#with the helmet removed she shatters it into a million pieces | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cd-head · 3 years

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Code Red

Prompts: “It burns” and “He’s going to be okay”

Characters: Xisuma, Etho, Stress, Ren, and False

Characters MENTIONED: Beef

Might be out of character but.... its a AU so shhhhh (/lh)

TW: Angst, burns, blood, horror, mild body horror (? not to sure if it counts but tagging just in case) gore, murder, guns, and swords

Space outlaws again! Sorry I love the AU a lot, go to @martuzzio !! they post really good art and made the AU!

Reblogs > Likes

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Everything was going right.

To right.

Something had to be wrong, Xisuma knew something had to be. Nothing could go this swimmly for them unless it was gathering or talking with each other.

Not a battle.

Not-

His thought was cut off when a loud pained scream rang out before a yell of ‘Code red’ rang out in a females voice. He barely spared a glance over to see False guarding Ethos curled up armor suited body that was trembling, his helmet gone and his face in his hands while noticeable blood was dripping onto the armor covered hands

Xisuma fought back the urge to run over to Etho, anger trickling into his system as he launched forward into battle. Sticking his sword right through a enemies chest and he charged forward into battle, fed by the need for revenge for his friend.

Meanwhile.....

Pale hands clutched at the burned skin as pain withered him in a terrible way. Hes felt pain before but never this tainting. Never this horrid, it felt like he had step foot in lava and there was no way out. This time, there were no hands coming to grab him, no hands to tug him away, no hands to pet his hair and comfort him, no person to open the spice cabinet to ask for something and then leave him alone.

There was just pure raw agony that shook him down to his core, a sob wormed its way out of his throat while the blood didnt seem to stop. He curled up tighter and forced his eyes open, he sobbed harder when the vision in his left eye was gone. Just black void, empty, and useless.

He tried to focus, his vision in his other eye was spotty and blurred. He couldnt see anything, he let out a small gasp as the pain in his body grew when he pressed down on his face by mistake, he whimpered.

False looked down at him for a bit, worry filling her eyes before she blew a loud whistle which caught the attention of a werewolf whos head snapped over. His helmet discarded in the ship as he rushed out without thinking. His brown hair waved beautifully in the strong winds of the planet while the familiar sound of the clinging of weapons and gunshots rang out around him.

His ears propped up more before he tilted his head and his gaze trailed down False before horror filled his eyes and the man ran over, his big eyes flooded with worry, he quickly holstered his weapon and placed his hand on the terrified and wounded mans side who tensed at the sudden touch before relaxing when he heard the familiar voice of Ren.

“Hey... I’m going to pick you up... that alright man?” The werewolf asked, though he knew it would come down to not mattering if Etho was alright with it or not, they had to get him out of there and treated before the wounds could get more dirty and raise the change of him getting more wounded on the battle field.

When the white hair man nodded, he heard the clink of metal before he was pulled up into the air, tensing on instinct while the sound of something being dragged across sand and a helmet rested peacefully pressed between him and Ren.

Ethos vision swam worst as the pain grew when Ren took off running, he knew blood was dripping onto his friend but he couldnt move. To panic filled from the pain and the lost of vision. His breathing was short and heavy, hyperventilating no doubt.

He gasped a bit in surprised when he felt the cool breeze of the wind and yet its horrid touch caused a unwanted whimper to escape him, that was all that was needed to trigger Ren to run faster. They had reached the ship but they came to a sudden stop when two men stood in the way.

Rens eyes flicked around, his ears pressed up against his hair as he takes a step back, his grip on his fading friend growing tighter and more protective. Etho was unaware of what was going on, the need to sleep overpowering most of his systems but he was to busy fighting it off to pay mind of the men moving closer to the man holding him.

The werewolf bared his teeth, gently pushing Ethos head closer, careful to not rub against the new wounds and hurt the man further, his tail swayed as he took a protective stance, his eyes seemly glowing but the men paid no mind as they stepped closer, one taking aim with their gun at Rens head and the other was holding a towel, their eyes glowing a bit with danger.

Not that the eye showing the danger and anger to know. He knew these men wanted something, and he knew that something just happened to be a someone. Someone who was part of Rens pack. One of Rens good friends.

Beef would slaughter him, the moment he was able to walk as he got shot in the leg a few missions ago, if he let Etho get captured. The two were close friends after all.

Ren felt his tail fluff up a bit and the swaying growing, he tugged his friend a bit closer still careful before a battle cry rang out and False charged at the one with the gun aimed, toppling all three of them over in one go. She used one of her pair of arms to choke out one of the men while she shot the other.

Ren gave her a grateful smile before his eyes flickered over the battle field but that was cut off by the scent of someone he didnt know. It mixed poorly with the smell of the terrible red sand and the werewolf was barely able to duck as a sword swung out where his head shouldve been. He quickly took off running and manged to jump over False with the womans help.

He skidded on the sand a bit, his shoes digging downward and he tried to not pay mind to the whimpers that were leaving his masked friend that normally showed no pay. Was normally so calm and collected, now withering in his friends arms out of pure white pain.

Ren quickly took off running again and charged right for the ship, slamming his hand onto the keypad and screamed. “LET ME IN!”

The door slowly opened but Ren quickly slid in, wrapping his body around Etho, his chest to the mans back and the door shut again. He scrambled to his feet and took off running, running right to the medbay where he prayed that Stress was instead of watching or in battle.

Lady luck must of been on his side because as he slammed into the doorframe of the medbay, Stress was rewrapping Beefs leg and she quickly looked over and forgot about what she was doing and ran over. Quickly dragging Ren to a bed where he laid Etho down.

Stress shooed him away and tugged the curtains around the bed so no one could see the mans face. She carefully took off Ethos mask that somehow had not gotten burned off and gasped at the gorely sight before her.

Ethos face was dripping blood right from his left eye, blood rolled from his mouth and a massive burn laid right over his left side, all the way to the young mans chest from what Stress could guess.

She made quick work of removing her friends chestplate, leaving him in his white button up shirt, as she was grabbing things from the cart not to far away, she felt a weak hand grasp onto her hand and she looked over. “i---it.... bur--burns........” A small weak raspy voice croaked out.

Stress’s heart just about shattered into a million pieces as she grabbed what she needed and brushed a hand over the mans white hair. “I know love.... but youre gonna be okay...” She promised. He needed to be okay-

No.

He had to be okay.

So while the eyes fluttered close when the bandaging was done. Stress carefully removed the rest of the mans gear, somehow not waking the white haired male as she placed the armor in a chest until Xisuma would come and collect it.

As Stress turned back to Ethos discomforted face even in his sleep, she swore to the gods and whatever else was above them.

To keep her friend safe.

To keep her brother safe, to keep him alive, to keep him okay, to keep him healthy.

For, that was all the young woman asked.

For her family to be okay.

As she turned dulled the light above Ethos head and fixed the curtains after tucking him in and walking over to Beef again. She gave him a calming smile at the scared and panicked look Beef gave her.

Stress placed a calm hand on the older mans shoulder. “Hes going to be okay.”

And Beef had no other choice but to believe her.

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dokoni-mo · 4 years

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Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 8)

(A/N: Taglist is still open. Asks are still open for anything. Good luck.)

WARNINGS: crying, cursing, otherwise none.

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name

Word Count: ~7200

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Three: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

Chapter Five: [x]

Chapter Five and a Half: [x]

Chapter Six: [x]

Chapter Seven: [x]

~~~

You felt like nothing but a ghost of yourself the rest of that day.

You didn’t know what to think or how to feel. All you felt as nothing. Absolute, suffocating, nothing.

After that old officer left, you weren’t able to finish your meal. Your appetite vanished the instant the officer broke the news to you. The awful, unimaginable news. You couldn’t do anything. All you could do was stare straight in front of you, your knees hugged tightly to your chest, and think.

You replayed the past weeks of your life over and over in your mind like a broken reel of film. You heard all the things he had ever said to you play back and echo in your head. Everything that had ever meant anything to you...

Is it not past active hours for your department, mechanic?

I will come here again periodically, and I expect a full report of progress for each of my visitations.

Your name, mechanic. I wish to know your name.

Tell me, Miss (F/N). Do you enjoy your job here?

(F/N)... there is no one I trust more to accompany me.

If you wish to simply call me ‘Vader’ when the two of us are alone…I will allow it.

Tell me, (F/N)... what was your home like?

Would you… may I have this dance?

Your brain couldn’t make any sense of it. What had you done wrong? Why in the galaxy would he do this? Your fingers twitched to find an answer to these questions as you continued to blankly stare forward into the void of wall before you.

Your trance-like state was quickly drawn to a halt by the sound of the door opening. Picking up your head to face the person who had entered, you were greeted with the familiar face of the nurse who was tending to your wounds. She gave you as friendly as a smile as she could muster in response to your seemingly lifeless face. Your eyes were dark, and your cheeks were stained with absolutely no color. Even though all of your vital signs said otherwise, it was as if someone had come in and ripped your heart, your very soul out of your body.

And, in almost every sense, someone had.

“Good evening Miss (L/N).” the nurse said softly, closing the door to your room behind her.

You did and said absolutely nothing in response. How could you? When you already felt like nothing.

Filling the awkward air with a cough, the nurse continued her speech.

“W-Well, it looks here that all of your readings are normal, and have been for some time! With that, I will allow you to be released. I’ll have someone bring in your normal clothes and you can return to your normal job in the morning.”

…

What did she say?

No…

You stiffened at the end of her last sentence. Your fingers gripping onto the bedsheets, your allowed your head to move back to where it faced the wall in front of you, your eyes following suit.

Your voice was barely a whisper as you spoke, barely audible.

“Liar.”

The poor nurse seemed to be caught off guard by this. Quickly searching her mind for any way of which she could be found lying, she found nothing. This told her that you must have been mistaken. Or, perhaps, she had misheard you. You were speaking rather quietly.

Curiosity taking over her, the nurse spoke again.

“P… Pardon?”

You clenched your fingers tighter onto the sheets at this, your knuckles turning white. Your body began to shake, primarily your shoulders and arms, as a million thoughts came into your head at once. They were so loud. So very loud. You wanted them to go away. You wanted everything and everyone to just go away. All you wanted was him. You wanted him to run in and scoop you into his big, strong arms and tell you that everything was okay. You wanted him to burst into the room right then and tell you that everything was just one big misunderstanding. You wanted him to lift you up right there and carry you someplace far, far away where you could spend the rest of your days together. You wanted him to tell you that he cared.

But, you now knew that would never happen.

All of your suspicions were true.

All you were to him…

Was a mechanic.

You didn’t even realize how much you were crying. It was like all the oceans of your home planet redirected their water flows into the back of your eyes. Your whole body felt hot and cold at the same time as your heart was breaking in two, shattering into a million pieces. You didn’t even notice the flood of hot, steamy tears that was pouring down your reddened cheeks. You didn’t care about how your nose was starting to run.

You couldn’t even form a response to the nurse, the lump in your throat far too big to allow any of your voice to through. Your face contorted into one of agony as you let a sob out of your throat, the sound oh so pitiful and shattering. Slowly, you covered your face with your hands as you leaned your head down to rest on your knees. Finally concealed from the outside world, you allowed a flurry of sobs to rack through your body, your shoulders and back shaking as the tears flowed and your breath became more and more ragged. Your lungs were on fire with the amount of force your cries ripped out of you. Your sides ached and groaned with each gasp of air you took in between sobs and whimpers.

You felt like you were shattering at the seams.

Everything you had grown to love.

Everything you had grown to care for.

Everything you had grown to hope for.

Was not violently and mercilessly ripped away from you.

And all you could do about it then was cry.

No wonder Lord Vader wanted to get rid of you.

You were worthless.

How could you have ever convinced yourself that he could maybe, just maybe, care for someone like you?

He wouldn’t. Not ever. And you saw that now.

But still, all you could do was sob into the vast void of black that filled your vision.

You didn’t care that the poor nurse was there to see all of your emotion. In fact, you largely forgot she was there to begin with. Despite only known you the tiniest amount, she could tell that this was very out of character for you. She could tell that whatever has happened to you hurt you in the deepest possible way.

And she was right.

Flashing you a look of sympathetic sadness, she left the room quietly and let you have your moment on your own terms, listening to your sobs all the while with a heavy heart.

She could even still hear them once she entered the hallway.

She told the rest of her co-workers not to disturb you for the rest of the evening, and prayed that whatever was troubling you would pass.

~~~

He had called off all the meetings he had scheduled for the night. He wished to be alone in his meditation chamber by himself.

Lord Vader had not felt this way in a long time. He felt… awful.

Granted, he did know that he as a sith lord was quite awful. He struck fear into the heart of many. He took countless people’s lives. He ordered his troops to do such as well. He was a galactic symbol of death and destruction. But this, he learned to deal with over the years. He learned to live with this truth.

No. Not a day went by where he felt awful for this.

Instead, he felt awful for what he had done to you.

Sitting down inside of his meditation chamber, he watched from behind his mask the walls close around him, entrapping him within the cold, lifeless, white walls.

Cold.

That was a feeling he was used to.

But not one he wanted to return.

Now unquestionably alone, Lord Vader allowed himself to remove his helmet and mask, allowing his burnt, scared face to show itself once more.

Holding the mask in his strong grasp, Lord Vader turned it so that the face was looking to his own.

Looking into the black, lifeless eyes of the thing, Lord Vader saw his reflection staring back at him. The two figures staring back at one another, Lord Vader’s mind became both blank and full at the same time.

From seemingly no where and everywhere at once, Lord Vader heard a voice ricochet off of the walls of his mind.

Your voice.

L-Lord Vader!

It’s… It’s (F/N), my Lord. (F/N) (L/N).

It’s… acceptable.

I can continue on with the day.

I believe that you asked the wrong person.

It’s… nice. The view, I mean.

You know… I only just got here, and I’m already ready to call it a night.

What was...What was your home like, my lord?

I’m sure that wherever they are now… They all still love you. Unconditionally.

Lord Vader had to close his eyes at the last echo that came into his mind. Sitting there a moment, motionless, the sith allowed that echo to cross over his mind over and over again, the grip upon his mask tightening and tightening.

How could you have said that to him?

How could you have allowed such sympathy for someone like him?

A pang of awful shooting through Lord Vader, he allowed his mask to drop to the floor as he rested his elbows upon his armor-clad knees, his scarred, damaged head cradled in his large, mechanical hands.

Deep down within his core, he felt his stomach tie itself into a knot, his damaged, scarred heart in pain.

He hadn’t felt like this in so, very long.

But he deserved it.

How dare he think that someone like him should ever be cared for by someone like you? How dare he think that he could ever be worthy of reciprocating those affections? How dare he taint such a beautiful, radiant creature such as yourself with the likes of him? How dare he be so selfish as to indulge in the feelings you allowed him to have? How dare he be so ignorant as to bring you into harms way?

How dare he ever try to love again?

Didn’t he see how it ended last time?

He was evil.

He was cruel.

He was ugly.

He was scarred.

He was damaged.

He was…

Everything that you weren’t.

Every time he reached out with the force, he could feel how melancholy you were. You were hurting and confused. He didn’t blame you at tall. It pained him to his very being that he couldn’t tell you his reasoning. He couldn’t bring himself to face you that night.

What a fucking coward.

No wonder everyone he ever cared for left him.

He wanted nothing more than to go to you. He wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his grasp, rocking you gently and smoothing your hair until your cries subsided. He wanted nothing more than to call off your restationing and tell you it was just some misunderstanding. He wanted nothing more than to pick you up and carry you someplace far, far away, where the two of you could live together and grow old, spending the rest of your days…

Far away, together.

But, as much as it hurt him, made him bleed and scream within his soul…

He couldn’t.

If he were to keep you by his side, he knew.

All he would ever bring you was pain…

Suffering…

Depression…

Heartbreak…

Hurt.

And, maker above, did he want the exact opposite for you.

All he wanted you to be was happy.

Joyous.

Bubbly.

Sound.

Secure.

Safe.

And warm. Just as you provided to him.

But…

You would never get any of that…

If you were to continue being with a monster such as himself.

Leaning back in his chair, Lord Vader had to close his eyes once more as he felt a lump form in the back of his throat.

He hoped…

That you would at least remember him…

When you were gone.

~~~

24 hours from now, you were to leave the Super Star Destroyer.

Forever.

Packing was, unlike before, one of the hardest things you ever had to do.

They had provided you with the same kind of backpack as they had given you before, only it seemed far more depressing than the previous one. The first backpack you were given promised to take you someplace far away, to a planet you had never been to before. With him. But this one only promised you to take you someplace far away from him. Far away to a familiar place that you didn’t want to return to. Never in a million years.

The hardest thing for you to pack away into the small backpack was your formal uniform. Kneeling on the cold, hard floor of your quarters, you held the jacket of the uniform within your grasp for a long while, staring at the fabric with a blank, expressionless face. Rubbing your thumbs against the fabric, your mind flooded with memories of the most recent night you wore that piece of clothing.

The night he asked you to dance.

The night you were held in his arms.

The night where you felt the safest you had ever been.

The night you knew you…

A lump formed in your throat again.

You tried to swallow it down, but to no avail.

Feeling tears welling up in your eyes again, you gripped onto the jacket tighter and tighter as your face contorted into one of pure hurt and agony with absolutely no filter . Preventing yourself from hearing you sob again, you pressed the jacket to your face, your body bending over as silent, painful cries came out from behind your throat, your shoulders tense and your lungs thick with tension.

Kneeling there, next to your bed, docked in the emptiness of space, your face pressed against that damned jacket, you were hit with a sudden realization. It came to you gradually, and you could see it coming from a mile away. Perhaps this was because you knew all along.

You knew why it pained you so bad to leave the Super Star Destroyer.

You knew why it hurt you to your very soul that he was done with you.

You knew why you didn’t want to leave.

You knew why you wanted to finish his TIE.

You knew why you felt so safe in his arms.

You knew why you cherished that dance so much.

…

You vowed to never admit it.

To anyone.

Ever.

~~~

24 hours from now, you would be gone.

Forever.

It was hard for him to concentrate on anything that afternoon.

Instead of dawdling around and trying to get things done, Lord Vader had decided that he would spend the day doing as he pleased. He was one of the only people in the entire Empire that had this luxury. However, no matter what he tried to do, his mind would always slip back to you. He wondered greatly what you were doing every moment that day.

He couldn’t bear to even try to hone in on your life force.

Wandering aimlessly around the Super Star Destroyer, Lord Vader would pause periodically to watch his troops as they worked. He would sense the nervousness coming off of them, but he found it difficult to care. Perhaps he was feeling merciful that day.

Watching the troops work struck something deep, deep down inside of Lord Vader. The movements and the conversations of every troop seemed just so… dull. And grey, lifeless even. They would mill around like droids, doing their jobs to a t with absolutely no flare, no passion.

…

That’s what made you different.

A startling revelation came over Lord Vader. Standing on the edge of the main bridge of his Star Destroyer, looking out to the stars, he felt his shoulders stiffen.

He knew why he thought of you at night.

He knew why he had come to see you every time he could

He knew why he felt the way he did when he made you laugh.

He knew why he asked you to dance.

He knew why he came to visit you in the medical bay.

But, for all the same reason…

He knew why he had to send you away.

…

But if he knew why…

Why did it hurt him so damn much?

~~~

Today was the day.

Today was the most awful, dreadful, hurtful day of your life.

You weren’t ready in the slightest.

Of course, you didn’t get to sleep in that morning. You had to wake up bright and early, and be out the door as quickly as possible with your stormtrooper escort. Waking up that morning, you couldn’t help but lie in your cot for a good, long while, staring up at the ceiling above you. Your mind was completely blank. You were speechless.

Even though you knew fully well that time would not stop just to make you happy, you were shocked that this day had actually come.

Eventually, you were able to roll yourself up into a sitting position on your cot, washing your face with invisible water. Sitting there a moment longer, you let your legs fall off the edge of the bed, your feet making contact with the cold, hard floor below you. Your lips pursed as you felt the cold of the ground seep through your nerves, making it way up to your heart.

This was the last time you would ever feel that cold again.

Taking a few steps over to the small table in your quarters, you stopped in front of it to shed off your sleep wear, your body shivering as your skin met the cold air of the room. Tossing your sleepwear on the cot, you gingery slid on your uniform, your face expressionless as you felt the material slide over your skin.

It was nothing compared to leather wrapped around robotic hands.

Sighing quietly to yourself, you pushed that thought to the back of your head. It was best if you forgot that feeling sooner rather than later.

Taking a few steps back over to your cot, you picked up your backpack off the floor, plopping it down upon the cot and opening it. Grabbing your sleepwear with a bit too much force, you stuffed the clothing into the bag, not caring at all if they would wrinkle.

With all of your belongings now packed, you closed the backpack and slung it over your shoulders, letting out another soft sigh. Picking your head up, you gazed around the small room you had called home, giving it one final look.

You felt so small standing there alone.

You felt like nothing compared to how he had filled the room.

…

You wished he was there in the room as you felt tears in your eyes.

You wished that he was there to hold you from behind as you hugged yourself tightly.

You weren’t even gone yet…

But you already missed him.

Before you could start crying again, you heard a strong, hard knock on your door. Whipping your head up, you quickly wiped the water from your eyes as you walked to the door, pressing the button on the side of the doorframe to open it.

Although you were greeted with the sight of a captain stormtrooper, you were certain that underneath the armor, it was the ferryman to hell.

“Morning, miss.” the trooper said, his voice distorted by the speaker in his helmet.

All you did in response was mouth the word morning to the trooper, forgetting you had to put air behind your words in order to actually say them.

“Are you ready?” the trooper asked.

You felt like bursting into tears. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs that you were in no way, shape, or form ready to go. You wanted to curl into a ball and sob for the rest of time. You wanted to slam the door shut on the poor trooper and hide in your room until they came to kill you.

You knew it would be less painful than leaving this place.

However, you didn’t do any of the above. Instead, you swallowed the forming lump in your throat, looking down as you gave the trooper a quick nod.

After a quick follow me from the trooper, you began to trail behind him, giving your quarters one last look over your shoulder as you did so. Your view being cut off by the doors closing, you turned your head back to face forward as you repositioned the backpack on your shoulder. This earned a quick glance from the trooper, but he said nothing. You figured he was not one for conversation, and you didn’t blame him in the slightest. You knew you had to look like a complete wreck, and you didn’t blame the trooper for not wanting to pry into your business.

Deep down, you thanked him for it. You knew if he were to ask, you wouldn’t be able to help yourself from completely breaking down.

Following the trooper along the many long, winding hallways, you noticed how no one stopped to look at you. You noticed how no one asked to see if you were okay or not. Not that you wanted them to, but you were hit with a sudden reality.

Life would be like this for the rest of your days.

Life would never be as colorful as it had been.

Life would never be as… good.

You shook your head to rattle out those thoughts.

You didn’t want to cry in front of everyone.

Eventually, the trooper led you into a partially empty hangar, one of the lesser used ones on the Super Star Destroyer. Stepping into the hangar, you were greeted with the sight of a few troopers, a couple of pilots, and one fired-up shuttle carrier.

You were so close to collapsing onto the floor and shattering into a billion pieces. The only thing that prevented you from doing so was one of the pilots coming up to you.

“Are you Miss (L/N)?” the pilot asked you.

You nodded your head in approval.

“Great. We’ll be leaving in about five minutes.” the pilot said simply and flatly before walking away.

Five minutes.

That was the only time left you had here.

That was as much time as you had to say goodbye to everything that you had hoped for.

That was as much time as you had to forget everything that had happened.

That was as much time as you had to act like none of the past weeks never happened.

…

How could you?

Those days had meant so much to you…

He meant so much to you…

And all you had now was five minutes to throw it all away.

You were so confused.

You were scared and cold.

You wanted to throw your backpack on the ground and run back to his hangar.

You wanted the doors to open for you to be greeted with the sight of him, his arms open to you.

You wanted to fling yourself into his grasp, and have you hold onto him an never let go again.

You wanted him to cradle you in his big, strong arms for the rest of time, until you were nothing but ash.

…

How could you do all that in five minutes?

You couldn’t.

So you decided not to.

“Miss (L/N),” you heard the pilot say, “We’re leaving now.”

Breaking out of your trace, you shifted your gaze up to look at the shuttle. Sure enough, it's doors were open, touching the floor and creating a ramp so that you could walk in.

There it was.

The final curtain.

Tears welling up in your eyes again, you began to walk forward.

A thought passed through your mind as you drew nearer to the ramp.

I’m sorry…

A few more steps. You were closer now.

I wasn’t good enough…

A few more steps. You were so close.

Lord Vader.

You were at the edge.

You picked up your boot to step onto the ramp, but you were cut off.

You were cut off by two very familiar sounds.

Heavy, quick boots hitting the floor…

And mechanical, rhythmic breath.

~~~

Today was the day.

The day you would be gone.

Lord Vader didn’t say or do anything that day, and everyone had noticed. No one dared to ask the reason why.

As soon as Lord Vader had exited his chambers that morning, he quickly made his way to the main bridge. He only stopped his pace once he met the edge of the bridge, just in front of the large windows surrounding the perimeter. Assuming no special stance, Lord Vader simply gazed out to the stars, giving no order to this troops to do anything. No one even dared to ask him what they should do.

He would never admit it, but Lord Vader was grateful for that.

Lord Vader was greatly troubled. All of the emotions he was facing since the day he reassigned you had not dissipated in the slightest. They were all still a part of him, plaguing his very being. Yet, he did nothing about them.

He knew that he must suffer with them every day, in order to punish himself for what he did to you.

A few hours from now, he would know that you would be safe for the rest of your life. He knew that you would be looked after, and you would be some place where he would never affect you again.

…

But still…

He was in pain.

Deep, seething, agonizing, pain, greater than all he had ever felt before.

He thought he was selfish for it.

How dare he try and gain pity after doing what he did to you.

How detestable.

But still, a tremor deep down in his life force whispered to him.

It told him the most wonderful, awful things.

It told him he was wrong.

He tried to ignore it at first, but as the hours without you passed, and as the hour to which you would leave drew nearer and nearer, it's voice only grew louder and louder.

Lord Vader ignored it the best he could.

Until he couldn’t anymore.

It was ten minutes until you would leave. The voice was now screaming at him. Lord Vader clenched his fist as he tried again and again to ignore it. Every time he tried, however, it seemed to only scream louder, to the point where it was almost ear-splittingly loud.

His willpower crumbled, and Lord Vader gave in.

Although he wasn’t consciously aware of what the voice wanted him to do, his body seemed to act on it's own without him having to pilot. Unclenching his fist, Lord Vader reached his mind out to the force surrounding him. Concentrating, he bended it to his will.

To focus on you.

Focusing harder, he was able to sense your feelings.

…

You were…

So terribly, awfully, sad.

…

No.

This isn’t what he wanted at all.

He didn’t want you to feel that way.

He didn’t want you to ever feel such pain.

But, you did.

He cursed himself.

He wanted to make you feel better. He wanted you to understand why. He wanted you to be happy.

But he didn’t know how to do it.

He was at a total loss.

Pointing his mask down to the ground, Lord Vader’s mind went blank as he came to a loss for words. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know how to make sense of it all.

After a long moment of silence, he was relieved to hear the little voice from before speak to him again.

It sounded so familiar, but he didn’t know from where he heard it before.

He knew it had to be a deep rooted memory within him.

Yet, he struggled to put a face to it.

But, whoever it was…

She knew exactly what was best.

And he heard her loud and clear.

Go to her, Ani.

Turning swiftly on his heel, Lord Vader made his way down the bridge for the first time in hours, his cape fluttering by the speed. Some officers glanced up at him and his sudden movements, but quickly returned to their work. At the end of the bridge, Lord Vader stopped before an old officer, a datapad in his hand.

The same one who broke you the news.

“Commander Vox.” the sith lord spoke flatly but hurriedly, “I wish to know the status of Miss (L/N)’s shuttle.”

The old man giving Lord Vader a quick look, he poked on his datapad a few times before answering.

“It says here that her shuttle is about eight minutes away from takeoff, my Lord.” the commander said.

“What hangar?” The sith asked quickly.

“Hangar 281, my Lord. My Lord, I-”

Without even letting the old man finish, Lord Vader had pushed past him, his pace feverishly fast as he walked. That hangar was a bit far away, and Lord Vader knew he had to hurry.

He must see you.

Many people tried to stop Lord Vader as he wound down all the hallways and corridors, but Lord Vader would simply ignore them and keep walking, his mask pointed straight ahead.

He must see you.

All other tasks could wait.

He had thought he was too late once he finally made it to the hangar. However, listening in a moment longer, he heard the dull whirr of the engines of the shuttle from within.

He wasn’t too late.

Lord Vader didn’t hesitate one moment. He walked in through the doors and into the hangar.

The sound of his boots colliding with the floor and the rhythm of his respirator filled the room upon his entrance.

~~~

“Get out.” you heard his voice rumble from across the room.

You couldn’t force yourself to turn around. It had to be a dream. A hallucination. There was no possible way that he was there. You knew if you turned around, all you would see was nothing.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to bear that pain.

So, you didn’t turn around.

“Wh-But, my Lord! We-” you heard a pilot try to say.

“OUT.” You heard his voice bellow, sending a shiver down your spine. Listening a moment longer, you heard the sound of his saber ignite. As you heard the purr of the crimson blade swinging in the air, you put your hands over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut. Greeted with the muffled sounds of boots running out of the hangar, you figured that you must be going insane.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t real.

You weren’t hearing the sound of his saber humming to a halt.

You didn’t hear the sound of it unigiting.

You didn’t…

You let your hands drop from over your ears.

Your shoulders now slouched and your head slightly hung, your backpack was able to slide off of your shoulders with ease. You allowed it to do so, and listened to the thud it made when it made contact with the ground.

What you did hear, was the sound of heavy footsteps drawing closer to you, and the sound of rhythmic, loud breath drawing nearer to you.

The lump in your throat grew as the sounds grew closer, and a weight formed itself in the bottom of your diaphragm. You could feel his energy behind you. Your fingers twitched in anticipation. Anticipation for you to jump into his arms...

This never came.

Instead, you closed your eyes, and took in a shallow, long breath.

You were the one to break the silence, still refusing to turn around and look at him.

“I have to go soon.” your voice wavered out. The lump in your throat made it hard for you to speak normally.

Lord Vader felt what was left of his heart crack at your words.

“I… know.” was all he was able to rumble out. He prayed that the voice from before would tell him what to say. It refused.

This was his mess to fix.

Your lips tightened into a thin line as the tears threatened to spill over again. Your fingers twitched themselves into a brief fist before uncurling. Taking in another deep breath, you hoped your voice didn’t sound as broken as you felt.

You still refused to turn around as you spoke.

“Then… w-why are you here..? You have… more important things to do.”

Silence. Only filled with his respirator. For a good long while.

He eventually mustered up the courage to say anything.

“I… Nothing is currently more important to me… than saying goodbye to you, (F/N).”

You could have sworn you felt your heart finally begin to shatter at that. His words were like a million knives right through your chest, and made your blood run cold. Blinking your eyes rapidly, you couldn’t stop the tear in your eye from slipping down your cheek. Couldn’t he tell that this was destroying you? How could he be so cruel…

You couldn’t take it anymore.

Your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“W-Why…” you began, taking a pause for your shoulders to tense and your fists to clench, “...do you have to make this… so much harder than it already is.”

Perhaps Lord Vader’s heart really was breaking again. The flash of pain that engulfed him made him believe that it was true.

Lord Vader took a step closer to your back, reaching out his hand so that he could touch your shoulder.

“(F/N), I-”

You whipped yourself around to face him at this, leaning your shoulder backwards so that his hand would miss. Tears were streaming down your face like waves, and your cheeks were red from their heat. Your bow was bent into a scowl, and your lips were curved into a frown. Lord Vader was beside himself.

This isn’t what he wanted at all.

“What?” you asked, a slight hiss in your voice, “What do you possibly have to say to me? You’re getting rid of me, Vader. What in the universe could make this any better?”

Lord Vader lifted his hand to try and touch you again, but quickly let it fall, convincing himself that he will never be able to do it again.

“(F/N), I…” he began, his mask dropping it's gaze from your face to the ground, “I want you to know that... I am doing this for you. To protect you.”

You stood there speechless for what seemed like an eternity. Your lips parting, you felt your flow of tears fade into a trickle.

You couldn’t believe at all what he had said to you.

“Pro… Protect me?” you asked, you voice barely above a whisper.

“...Yes.” he responded.

You stood without moving a single muscle for a good while. Repeating his words in your head, your face contorted once more as you tears started to flow rapidly again, making you bury your face in your hands.

Lord Vader didn’t expect that at all. Catching him in one of the rare moments he was off guard, the sith pointed his mask back to your face, now obscured by your hands.

This still wasn’t what he wanted.

“(F/N),” he spoke, quieter than you had ever heard before, “Please… don’t-”

“Don’t what?” you choked out, taking your hands off your face to wipe your eyes, “Do you really not see? I am safe here, Vader. I can never be as safe as I am here… w-with you. Literally no one can hurt me, so why… I don’t… I can’t…”

Your chain of broken thoughts was broken by his voice.

“No, (F/N). You are not safe here. You are in danger as long…” he paused, the pain in his diaphragm almost too much to bear, “As long as you are near me.”

You shot your glossy eyes up at him, your brow bending upwards as you sniffled.

“Wh-What are you talking about?”

“(F/N),” he continued, refusing to meet your gaze, “You know what happened on that planet. I never expected you to leave that filthy place in such a way. If I had known… I would have never taken you there. It was not my intention to have you return… injured.”

His shoulders tensed as he continued on, his tone slightly more fiery than before, “I realized upon our return how much danger I put you in. Being near me… (F/N), you could have died. I have the blood of many men on my hands (F/N), but if I were to also have yours, I… I would not be able to bear it.”

Your body seemed to go into auto-pilot at that. An indescribable emotion taking over you, you reached up your hand to Lord Vader, cupping your soft, small palm against the sharp edges of his mask. Sensing your touch, the dark lord picked up his gaze again, allowing it to fall upon your puffy, reddened eyes.

Did he die?

Did he die and somehow go to heaven?

He could have sworn he saw an angel before him.

“Vader…” you spoke softly, your tears drying for the time being, “Do you not realize..? If it weren’t for you… I would already be dead.”

The sith lord stared at you speechless as you formulated what to continue on with. He feared he would ruin this moment by saying a single word.

“When… When I first got my job here,” you eventually said, your hand still firmly on his mask, “I wasn’t sure I wanted to go on. Life was so… dull, compared to my life back home. I hated it. I hated every day I woke up to. I didn’t think there would ever be a light at the end of the tunnel… That was, until, I got a job. I got your job. I was so scared at first. Terrified, really. I was scared you would just make my life darker… But I was wrong. Vader, the only thing that you have ever brought me in this galaxy is joy. The happiest moments of my life have been… getting to know you. And… that’s all I ever want to do, for the rest of time. Believe me when I say that I… I care so deeply for you...”

You paused a moment as you breathed out a smile, another tear slipping down your cheek.

“Vader, I… I… I never, not ever, want to leave your side again.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. He only stared down at you as you looked up at him, a small smile on your features.

Maker above, you were the most gorgeous thing that Lord Vader had ever seen.

For a long time, the dark lord refused to believe it. He refused to believe that he could impact such a beautiful person like you in such a way. He was nothing compared to you. You and him were nothing alike.

But yet, in a fleeting moment of you…

He believed you.

Your eyes looked right into his soul, right into him. They looked right beyond the shell of his mask, right at him. If you had been looking elsewhere, Lord Vader would have not believed you. He would have thought you to be a liar. But in that moment, he could feel your gaze land right on his eyes…

Freshly devoid of any trace of yellow.

His softened, blue eyes.

In that moment he knew…

You did not care for his outer shell.

You did not yearn for that suit to hold you at night.

You did not want that suit to call you beautiful.

You cared for him.

His body moving without him commanding, he slowly but surely wrapped his strong arms around your tiny frame, pulling you as close as possible to him. As you stood upon your tip-toes and wrapped your arms around his armored neck, he snaked one arm across the length of your back and the other around your waist, his large hands bunching your clothes in his iron grip.

For the first time in what felt like years, you felt completely safe. You felt so, so happy. Letting the tears of joy slip down your face, your cries came out muffled as you pressed your head into the top of his shoulder, feeling him mimic the action on your own.

Waves of relief crashing over you, your legs suddenly felt extremely weak. The joints of your knees giving out, you slowly started to sink to the floor. Were it not for him following you down to the ground, you would have thought you were going to fall straight through it.

The rest of the galaxy seemed to slip away as the pair of you were knelt on the expanse of floor below you, clinging onto one another as if the other would drift away into nothing if one of you were to let go. In that moment, both of your minds were blank. You were speechless in every sense imaginable.

If the entire galaxy were to implode right then, neither of you would notice.

If the war were to end right there, neither of you would notice.

If the rebellion had defeated the empire right then, neither of you would notice.

The only thing that mattered in that moment…

Was you and him.

Eventually, Lord Vader lifted his head from your shoulder, causing you to do the same. Lifting his hands from off of your body, he rested them upon your cheeks, cradling your beautiful face in his hands like it was the most fragile thing in the universe. Using his gloved thumbs to wipe away your tears, he leaned forward and pressed the forehead of his mask to your own, making you breathe out another smile.

His version of a kiss, you took it.

You happily reciprocated, shifting up your hands to cradle his mask in your palms and closing your eyes.

He was the one to break the silence that had loomed in the air for a long, long while.

“(F/N).” Vader said.

“Yeah?” you responded.

It took him a moment to speak again.

“I…” he began, holding onto you a bit tighter.

What he said to you next made your heart skip several beats.

It made your whole body swell with joy.

It made every one of your fears dissolve into nothing.

It made the galaxy seem like such a better place.

You would never forget what he said.

“I… I love you.”

You breathed out another smile as you felt your heart beam with joy your eyes brighter than ever before. Closing your eyes, you leaned forward, pressing a soft, quick kiss to the triangle mouth of his mask.

“I love you too, Vader.”

His heart almost burst in ecstasy as he heard your words.

Surprising himself…

He believed you.

And vowed to himself that he would spend the rest of his life showing you just how much he adored you.

Holing you closer to his chest, he made another vow to you without speaking.

He vowed that one day...

perhaps very soon, perhaps very far...

He would take to you a place...

Where both you and him could live the rest of your days...

Far away...

together.

~~~

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#darth vader #darth vader x reader #fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfic

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fictional-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Sweetness

the mandalorian x reader

i had this idea that, when given the chance, my guy mando really enjoys going down on his girl. so! let’s all thirst for the hottie with a helmet on ;)

words: 2.6k

warnings: smut, female receiving oral, blindfold use, slight bondage, naked female, clothed male

—

The early morning light is splayed over her body, dots of golden light sprinkles her skin and the light grey sheets of the bed, the thick and heavy comforter pulled back and forgotten it hangs from the edge of the bed.

The Mandalorian takes in the sight, his bare hands curved around her thighs, thumbing the soft skin in smooth circles. Without the helmet contouring his vision, he sees everything so clearly, the intimate details of her, the way her reddened lips part in soft sounds, her wrists crossed and twisting in the soft bounds he’d looped around only moments before, her soft hair against the worn pillow, the arches of her back, pushing her chest upwards as her body is moving without thought, only chasing the closeness he so promised her.

She’s so warm in his inexperienced hands, he’d never imagined anything to be as good as the way she felt under him. He’s had her before, but every time it feels brand new, opening a vault of hidden opportunities, slick and ready at his wanting.

The light turns as the morning drags on, splashing lines of light seen through the chipped windows of The Mandalorian’s Ship. His hands chase the warm light, pulling and feeling down upwards until they reach her breasts, she jumps at the contact, smiling softly as his large hands engulfe the softness of her breast.

“Please,” she’s quiet, barley loud enough for him to hear. Her eyes are closed under the black silken fabric covering her eyes. Keeping the secret of who the Mandalorian really was. The identity unknown, all that runs through her veins in soul attraction to who he was as a person, not a Mandalorian, a Bounty Hunter, a killer... One who she trusted enough to have her in this way.

“Is this what you want?” He’s close to her ear, his warm breath tickiling her neck, his deep voice mixed with heavy breathing curling through the air, sending warm shocks of arsousl through her. She shudders, trangled up in the idea of him touching her just a little more. The Mandalorians large hand is still on her breast, his palm running down, fingertips sinking into the soft flesh. “Talk to me,” he’s kissing her neck, slowly and messily, basking in the taste of her, the sounds of her soft voice, the creaking of the bonds; he knows just how bad she wishes to touch him, to break from the bonds and feel him alive under her fingertips, to knot her hands in his thick hair, drag her nails in lines down the soldiers back, knives to a stone.

The ripping feeling of desperation is nearly killing her, he’s biting down on her shoulder and squeezing her chest and it’s all too much, she’s tugging on the restraints as her breathing speeds up; she’s sure he can hear her heart pounding. “Keep going,”

He catches her mouth in his own, their lips come together in bruising force of lips tongues and teeth clashing and he inhales deep through his nose as she nearly steals his breath away, her lips part and she licks into his own and he’s only able to stop himself from devouring her again and again. It’s all rotten candy and sickly sweet wine, she’s a whisper of what things in heaven should taste of. His hands never stop moving, mapping the plains of her body, an artists shaping the statue, he’s everywhere all at once, she chokes on a gasp as he tweaks one of her nipples before moving to taste her with his tongue. The warm wetness of his mouth over on her tit is pushing her closer to collapsing with heated arousal.

She figures she wouldn’t need the blindfold next time, her eyes are screwed shut and not going to open for a while as the shocks of pleasure leak through her system. She can feel his soft hair brushing her flesh, his teeth dragging and digging over her skin, the roughness of his face, his chapped lips, his calloused, battle worn hands; yet they hold her so gently. It’s a battle of fire and fire within her and in him as well. He’s worried he’s taking everything out on her, getting lost in her body to forget his life, the blood on his hands, shards of broken bones and echoes of screaming victims.

The Mandalorians helmet and gloves are off, those are the only parts of him bare to her, to match her exposed nakedness. The helmet is on its side on the floor, the visor staring at the two lovers, entrnagled within one another, sharing breath through bruising kisses and his hands moulding her skin to his touch.

“Mando...” she doesn’t know his name, know his past, she only knows sharp words and gunfire, the smell of blaster smoke and the feeling of fearing of her life. “Gods, you have to touch me.”

He drags himself from her breasts and moves to cup her jaw in his large hand, pull her face closer to his, meet her swollen lips to his own. Short and damp are the kisses, slicked together with the rush of the risk. His knee keeping him upright is sinking the mattress, the hard metal plates of his amour are alien to her bare skin, and send shivers up her arching spine when the metal glides over her skin. Before tying her up, he’d slowly helped her remove her clothes, catching her lips with his own in between quickening moments of rushed passion. His adoration of her only grew when he realized she trusted him in such a way, to have her blinded, at his own mercy, a victim like no other.

He’s lathering her skin with marks and sensing out her sweet spots by following her patheticly sweet sounds, the soft sighs, hushed whimpers and moans of his name. His hand moves to push her thigh down, giving him room to settled between them, and he sees she’s so, so, so wet. She’s hot and slick with arousal. Her body trembles as he rids some of his armour, freeing up his albilty to contort and lower himself to her centre, to begin what he so desperately wanted to do. He remembers tasting her on his tongue for the first time; under her careful instructions he had buried his head between her warm thighs, snug around his ears. His chin and lips were soaked in her dripping honey he had curled his mouth around her most sensitive spots, delved his warm tongue into the cleft of her cunt he dragged her up the hill to climax, all through her whines of estastic pleasure, soft orders and shrill moans.

He’s brought back to the moment when she speaks.

“I wanna feel you so bad,” she’s pleading, not caring to see him, but to break the man free of his chains and armour, to peel back his clothing and expose him fully to her wanting, to feel the contours of his muscles, hard and sinewy under his slicked skin, she wants to tear open what’s left of his humanity and use it for her pleasure and hers alone.

Before her, the Mandalorian never thought of sex, of holding one so close he could shatter them and piece them back together, to have one at total mercy, and for them to be desperate for it. He’s moving by pure instinct, and had been each time he’s taken her before that. She’s been there for him, an open body for him to burrow into, bask in the warmth of her, to taste her, tear her apart, lick up the sweetness of her and rebuild her, all in the darkness of her own willingness.

“You trust me?” His voice is rough and slurred with his growing disire to have her. She’s nodding frantically and the Mandalorian is watching her, chest heaving. She, to him, is something else entirely, the Mandalorian is not so sure if he should fear the way she makes him feel. He would burn cities for her, destroy battleships, take a million live in cold blood is she told him to. It doesn’t cause him fear nor resentment, but utter amazement that she alone has chosen him.

“Please,” she’s saying again, her voice dipped in something so sweet he feels a skip in the pattern of his heartbeat. The Mandalorian sighs against her, inhaling shakily he looks up at her, peering through his lashes. “I dont, I don’t wanna see, I can’t bear to not feel you.” Silence follows her voice, and she’s swallowing her fear that maybes she’s said too much, that he’ll stand up, leave her longing and pathetically desperate.

It’s the silence and the darkness that is around her, the uknown of the moment. She thinks that’s why she’s so aroused, so needful of something, anything, to make something come to light. The bed creaks and there’s a shifting above her, his scent follows him, of metallic rust and smoke, of blood and dirt. It’s everything to not break from the bonds and pull him close.

She’s sure now that was line was crossed. That was the deal, was it not? To be bonded and unseeing, he could finally touch her. No matter the circumstance, he’s breaking the rules of his religion, his history, his culture. The Way, all of that along with everything his commander had burned into his mind was forgotten the moment you offered him your body, your soul.

Then there’s a short, rough tug of the strings above her and her wrists are free, she gasps softly in disbelief and before she can move Mandalorian is shifting downwards and lifting her hips to his mouth. His own eyes close as his mouth is slanted against her wet slick and honeyed skin, the soft petals of her sex under his lips, she’s crying out and her thighs are closing around his head, hips lifting to grind out as much movement as she could gather. Finally he’s there, right at the place to begin to tug her crashing release closer, she’s panting, skin dotted with sweat as he goes down on her. She’s rushing to contain her breaths, and thinks for a moment that damn she’s taught him so well.

“Stay still,” his large hands press down hard into her hips, forcing her to still. He’s following the softer movements of her body, circling his tongue around her bud he’s drinking all she has to offer.

She’s trying, but with her freed hands she immediately drops them to his head, gripped in her splayed fingers she pushing him closer to her soaked cunt, whining as he’d pull away to suck a short mark into the softness of her thigh. Her hand knots in his hair, and he finds himself groaning roughly into her when she tugs on it, fire looms within him, and he’s so achingly hard and desperate to fuck her that the Mandalorian thinks he could come right then, her nails catch in his thick dark hair and pull as he sucks and licks her sweet cunt. She’s close, panting as her breath is picking up she’s so close.

She’s telling him how good he’s doing, how his hands feel digging into her waist, his unruly hair tangled in her hands only makes her want to come faster. She’s begging and repeating his name, the cunningly sweet nickname she’s called him this whole time she’s known him. “Mando! Gods, slow down, I’m close —”

The Mandalorians not a talker, he’s assertive and straight to the point, he says what he needs to and no more than that. But now he’s sure he would be unable to string together a coherent sentence to tell her just how sweet she tastes, just how warm she was against his lips, how her hands in his hair and hips arching into his hands makes him nearly explode. The Mandalorian is too far gone to stop, he’d rather an aching jaw than you feel unwanted and forgotten about. He thinks of her in the darkness of the blindfold, and realizes just how lucky he really is. She is open and exposed to him, and willingly so if he could only allow her to see, it would make the whole thing so much better.

“You’re so — mmh,” he’s caught up in focusing on her hot and swollen bud, he wants to say beautiful, he’s never said the words aloud but all he can think to say is how fucking sweet you are against his lips, melted candy and ripely tang he’s sure she’s the best thing he’s tasted. Sucking and smoothing over with his tongue shes seconds away from bursting under him. He reaches his right hand to grip one of hers and she’s nearly sobbing as the feeling of hot pressure spreads through her anatomy.

She grips his hand, fingers linked with his own and squeezing as if she’s pulling the trigger. Her thighs tremble and tighten, it’s a burning coil strung so tight and hot, he’s only done this so many times she’s wondering just how bad it is that she’s so attracted to the Mandalorian that he can pull her to coming within minutes of only using his touch. She’s blind to him but not unfeeling.

“You’re almost there,” he’s not stopping, the seeping, white hotness of his own arousal is nearly controlling every once of his movement, he’s hard as goddamn marble and only thinks of how soft and warm she is around him. He’s licking and circling her faster and faster, closing his lips around her softness, her sweeetness dripping from his chin he is pulling her closer and closer. Her backs arching, knees drawing up and nearly suffocating the Mandalorian, pressing him as close as she can. She’s absolutely soaked and it’s only getting tighter, the coils about to break and he’s takes one last suck, swipe of his tongue and movement of his head under her hands she falls apart under him.

She’s choking on moans as waves of climatic bliss are sent throughout her body as if it were lightning on a seastorm, the burning wildfire of orgasmic endings and painful spasms of her muscles contrapt her within herself. She’s hot all over and her thighs are shaking terribly. Her body is ruined and numb in the aftermath of such a surge of sudden pleasure. The Mandalorian utters soft moans as he relaxes further into the bed, into her; sinking past her shaking limbs he drinks as if he had never had such a thing. Her breasts rise and fall in line with her heavy breathing, lips still reddened she gnaws on the bottom one, her mind still slack with pleasure.

She lets go of his hand to cart her fingers through his hair, he’s pushing himself up and onto her, wary of his beskar armour digging into her sensitive skin.

“Are you alright?” His bare hand slides over her face, lines her jaw and trails over her cheekbone. His fingertips graze over the blindfold. Would it really hurt to pull off the mask? To reveal himself to one who has just exposed her most intimate self? She lazily turns her head to stare at him, he imagines her without the blindfold, soft starlike eyes, he would kiss you in the middle of your forehead, feel your lashes flutter against his skin.

“I’m more than alright, Mando,” she’s pulling him close to capture his lips with her own, soft and gentle, she tastes herself on him and smiles. “We should use the blindfold more often.”

—

thanks for reading!

feedback is much appreciated, this is my first ever star wars fic (smutty or otherwise) and i wanna know how i did and if you want to read more!

#the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian smut #sinful sundays #my writing #star wars #the mandolorian smut #send me requests #the mandalorian x reader

2K notes · View notes

dumbkiri · 4 years

Text

My Universe

Watch me as my world burns down

Parts: [1]

Summary: [Name] is born! Jason abandons his daughter as he sets out on an adventure only Dick knows about. Damian takes a liking to [Name] even though she is learning to like him back. Jason returns and wants [Name] back, but Damian won't let her go easily.

Pairing: Damian Wayne x HoH!Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Slight Angst! Slight Fluff!

WARNINGS: MENTIONS ABORTION, ABANDONMENT

Jason Todd felt pain. He has felt so much pain in his lifetime that it could kill him now. At one point it literally did. He was murdered by a psychopathic villain and felt pain each time that cold crowbar touched him.

It was when he was reborn that he continued to feel that dreaded feeling. He was replaced by a new Robin. He was forgotten. At least that was what he thought. Jason felt pain.

Although it slowly went away when he met a young woman. Her name was Aurora and she had beautiful [h.color] hair that shone in the moonlight. She had twinkling [e.color] eyes that challenged the stars. Her intelligence could rival Batman. Her heart pure like Alfred's care for the boys.

Jason knew that as he spent time with Aurora, he would love her. Love her as he loved books. She was something he held dear to his heart. He was going to fight for her and come back to her alive. She was his motivation.

"Hey, Jay," Aurora called from the baby's room, "do you prefer the gun in the cradle or not in the room at all?"

Jason pulled his helmet off and rested it on the kitchen counter. He grabbed an apple and took a bite from it, "Uh, why are you asking me that question? It's a weird question." He began walking toward the baby's room to see his girlfriend.

"I don't know if you tell me, maybe I will," That tone she used. It was different from the soft one she usually speaks with.

He stopped in his tracks and turned away from the opened door. No way in Hell was he going in there when his girlfriend used that tone. No, it was dangerous. And Jason knows dangerous.

"Come back here!" She roared and chucked the gun at his head to which he nearly dodged it. "Whoa, babe, calm down!" He raised his hands above his head to protect himself.

Aurora stepped out of the room with a sneer on her face, "Calm down? You put a gun in the baby's bed! How do you expect me to calm down?" She grabbed a pillow off one of the couches and threw it at Jason.

He caught it in his hands and smiled, "Hey, A, it was an accident. Remember last night when I was stumbling around with a gunshot wound to my shoulder and I came through the baby's room?"

"Yeah?" Aurora said still fuming. Her hand reaching for another pillow.

Jason held the pillow in his hands as a shield, "Well, I must have dropped it and totally forgot I left it in there."

Aurora stopped reaching for the pillow and instead placed it under her chin, "That explains the blood on the floor and the rocking chair."

"Why do we have a rocking chair again? That's a prop out of a horror movie. Haven't you seen Annabelle?"

Aurora threw the second pillow and it successfully hit Jason in the face, "Yeah I have, you forced me to watch it."

Jason chuckled and put the pillows that were thrown at him back on the couch. Then he wrapped his arms around Aurora mindful of the baby. "I didn't force it on you."

Aurora scoffed, "You basically set all the TVs and phones to only play that movie until I watched it with you. I don't know how you did it, but you did."

"I'm pretty smart, Aurora." Jason bragged and leaned in for a kiss.

She pulled away and walked back to the baby's room, "Yes, but it was Tim that helped you. Don't try lying to me, I'm psychic."

"Right," Jason rolled his eyes and followed after her, "I forgot about that."

Jason Todd felt heartache. His heart had broken before. Shattered into millions of pieces that it was impossible for him to fix. For his family to fix.

Aurora was different. She pieced his heart all together. Made sure that his glass heart would shine again. And it did.

He was happy with her. Bruce noticed it. The boys did and so did Alfred. They noticed how radiant and happy he was when Aurora was mentioned. Sometimes using her name calmed him down and sometimes it riled him up. It just depended on how her name was used.

His heart ached when the doctor addressed her. It was when they made a difficult decision together. As a family.

"Ms. Davis, I have terrible news for you," The doctor looked at Jason, "excuse me, for the both of you."

Aurora sat up in the hospital bed and Jason stood off his chair. "What? Is she not okay? She was healthy two weeks ago." Aurora tried to make sense of what the bad news the doctor was bringing.

The doctor shook his head and looked at his papers, "The baby is very healthy."

"Then what's wrong?" Jason pressed.

"It's your own health, Ms. Davis," The doctor looked sadly at the mother. He set his clipboard on the counter behind him. "I'm afraid that your life will be in danger when and, or after you give birth. I looked at your previous health issues and you have a history of heart problems. Giving birth is a strenuous feat and it could possibly kill you."

The couple didn't say a word. Too shocked to form a sentence. The doctor proceeded.

"You have two options, Ms. Davis and Mr. Todd. Either resume your regular activities and give birth risking your life, Ms. Davis, and possibly the child's."

"Or what?" Aurora asked breathlessly.

"Or you can have an abortion." The doctor finished with his hands intertwined in front of him.

"What?" Jason asked more than angry. "She either dies giving birth or we kill our own child? You can't do anything else for us?"

The doctor shook his head, "I'm sorry that's all we can do for you. I'll let you two discuss on what you want to do in private." The doctor left the room and closed the door behind him. Jason couldn't bear to look at Aurora. Not when he received such terrible news. Not until he felt her hand hold his trembling one.

"Hey," She whispered getting his attention. His blue eyes connected with her sparkling [e.color] ones.

"We both know what to do, right?" She asked her voice cracking and tears falling down her cheeks.

Jason wiped his eyes with his free hand, "I don't know what you're talking about, Aurora." His heart breaking once again. And she wasn't fixing it this time because her own heart was breaking.

She tugged on his hand, "Yes, you do. I know you do." Aurora saw his heart breaking right in front of her and she desperately wanted to hold it together. But how could she when she couldn't do the same for herself.

"Look at me, Jason," She demanded as her voice cracked.

He removed his hand from his eyes reluctantly and looked at her. She was smiling at him even when tears were falling down her cheeks. "We are having this baby," Aurora said confidently.

Jason shook his head, "You'll die and I can't lose you. I won't lose you because of this baby. I won't."

Aurora bit her lip, "I'm seven months pregnant. Do you know what they'll do to our angel, Jay? Do you?" She asked angrily. How could he consider abortion so easily? Was it because she would die?

"No and I don't want to know," Jason said pulling his hand away from her warm one. He was beginning to feel cold.

Aurora shifted in her spot, "What they will do to our baby is dismember it while she is inside me. I don't want to be on an operating table knowing that my little girl is being pulled out piece by piece and with her skull being crushed."

"And I don't want to know that while you are giving birth that your heart is failing you! I really don't Aurora!" Jason yelled his blue eyes boring into her very own soul. "You're the only person who really understands my pain. The only person who understands me."

Aurora cried, "And she'll learn how to understand you if you give her a chance. Give [Name] a chance to understand why I love you!"

Jason released his glare and stared at his girlfriend with pity, "You already have a name for her? When did you decide?"

"Just right now," Aurora said calmly, "she deserves a name if we are discussing whether she lives or dies."

"Okay," Jason tried to calm himself down. He walked to Aurora's bedside and brushed her hair. "[Name] is a beautiful name by the way. Where did you come up with that?" He was trying to forget what was going to happen to Aurora in two months.

Key word: Trying.

Jason felt alone. He felt alone once the love of his life closed her eyes on that bed. He felt sadness when Aurora didn't feel warm and when the monitor stopped beeping. He felt alone even when he held his newborn daughter. Aurora gave her life having this baby.

Turns out, [Name] was born deaf. His own daughter couldn't hear his voice. It was a good thing because she couldn't hear him cry over his dead girlfriend, over her dead mother as Dick took her out of the hospital room.

Jason cried and cried over Aurora. He yelled at her for leaving him alone. For agreeing that this was the best choice. That letting [Name] live was the best choice compared to her. He cried for himself because he had a child to take care of. He had to go home without his girlfriend and with a baby.

"Why won't she be quiet?" Damian complained to his brothers and father while dangling a stuffed lion above her. His green eyes glaring at the infant girl with annoyance.

Dick walked over to the baby in the carriage, "Have you tried giving the lion to her?"

Damian handed the stuffed animal to [Name] and she rudely threw it back at him. She was still crying. Their problem was not solved.

"Oh, [Name]," Dick cooed and poked her wet cheek, "you're not so pretty when you cry."

Damian pushed Dick away from the little girl, "That won't help, she can't hear you." Damian focused back on shushing [Name] up. Maybe if he brought Titus down in the cave, the dog will cheer her up.

"Why isn't Todd here? It's his daughter," Damian placed the stuffed lion next to the [e.color] eyed infant. "He's been gone ever since she was born which has been two weeks."

Dick cringed at the fact. He knew exactly where Jason was, but Jason specifically told him not to follow. That he would kill if him if he tried to stop him.

Timothy stopped typing away on his computer and sipped at his coffee. He wasn't going to butt in on Jason's life choices. But it was messed up that he left them to take care of [Name].

"Jason is going through a lot right now, Damian." Dick tried to defend the second Robin. Although it wasn't going smoothly. "He just lost his girlfriend and it's not easy-"

"He abandoned his only daughter," Damian sneered. He had enough with Jason's theatrics. [Name] needs her father. "Where is he Grayson?"

Dick sweatdropped at the deadly glare Damian was giving him. He pulled at his shirt in a nervous way, "Man it sure is getting hot, how about we go for a walk? [Name] needs some fresh air anyways."

Dick grabbed the bassinet and carefully put [Name] in it. When Dick held her [Name] had stopped crying, but when he put her in the bassinet she started again.

Damian quirked an eyebrow, "Hmm, I know what the problem is now."

Dick gave Damian a questioning look.

"Stupid Grayson, tt," Damian tutted and picked up [Name] cradling her in his arms. Her crying seized and instead she began cooing at the green eyed boy. "She wants to be held. Obviously we aren't the affectionate type, father being the worst at it," Damian took a verbal jab at the man working at the computer.

Bruce heard his words and was slightly wounded. No, he was totally wounded.

"But she craves some attention, some love," Damian was droning on and when he was Dick walked backwards toward Timothy keeping an eye on the boy.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Dick asked Tim with wide eyes.

Timothy nodded his head, "The demon spawn is actually holding a baby. Jason's baby to be exact and when he finds out, he's gonna flip."

[Name] Wayne felt happy. That's all she felt when she was around her family. They were caring and loving. They gave her candy even when she wasn't allowed to have any. They made silly faces at her and gave her warm hugs.

She couldn't hear them, but the faces they made at her helped her. She understood when she did something wrong because they frowned. She understood when she did something cool because they jumped up in excitement.

It was difficult for her to understand their language. All she needed was facial expressions for now.

"No, that's not how you say 'princess', Grayson. Are you paying attention at all?" Damian scowled as he watched Dick try to sign the one word he wanted to learn to call [Name].

[Name] sat in Damian's lap happily as she slapped her hands on his legs. The green eyed boy not minding, he was hit harder than before.

"Look Damian, we should take [Name] out for a walk. I think she might be getting bored of sitting in your lap." Dick said resting his hands by his side.

Damian looked offended, "Bored?" He picked up the two year old and asked her, "You don't get bored of me, do you [Name]?"

[Name] laughed and reached for his face. Her tiny fingers wiggling around and her feet kicking in the air. Her pink socks covering her toes that curled. He brought her closer to his face and let her hands rest on his cheeks.

He could have sworn he saw the universe through her eyes. The planets revolving around the bright sun. Her eyes twinkled like the stars. He didn't know what the feeling was in his chest, he knew it was foreign. He liked the feeling.

"Her answer is no," Damian confirmed with a smug look.

Dick chuckled, "She can't hear you, so how do you know?"

"She looks happy to me, doesn't she?" Damian countered.

"You got a point," Jason said standing above the two males. Dick jumped out of surprise and Damian literally jumped from his spot. The green eyed boy holding [Name] close to his body and away from her father.

"Why the hell are you here, Todd," Damian asked with venom laced in his tone. If he was allowed his sword around [Name], he would have cut Jason where he stood.

Jason rested his hands on his hips, "I'm here to see my daughter and take her home where she belongs."

Damian scoffed, "Where she belongs?" He held [Name] tighter in his arms, but not too much so he wouldn't hurt her. He knew his boundaries. "She doesn't belong to you Todd."

"Neither does she belong to you, demon spawn."

"You abandoned her and now you want to show up here and take her away? I won't let you."

Jason sighed and looked at Dick for help. The older male shrugged his shoulders walking to Damian to take [Name] away from him. Damian hesitated, but knew Dick wouldn't hand [Name] over so easily. After all they took care of her for two years.

Dick walked a good distance away from them.

Jason rolled his blue eyes and turned his body toward Dick. "I'm not doing this right now. I'm leaving with [Name] whether you like it or not." He took only a couple of steps to Dick and it didn't take long for Damian to stop him.

The green eyed boy swiped his foot under the unguarded male letting him fall onto his back. Then Damian pressed his foot on Jason's chest, "I won't repeat myself Todd. You won't take [Name] away."

Jason gripped onto Damian's foot. "Don't test me, Damian," The blue eyed male growled.

"Same goes for you, Todd," Damian pressed his foot harder onto Jason's chest. His green eyes sparkling in determination. His motivation fuelled by protecting [Name] and when he heard her giggle behind him. His heart leaped. It was a weird feeling.

Caught off guard, Damian was flipped onto his back by Jason. His back crashing down and almost knocking the air out of him. "You don't listen, demon spawn. One day it'll get you killed."

Damian didn't like people like Jason standing over him. It wasn't right. So he rolled backwards standing protectively in front of Dick and [Name]. His black hair tousled from the fall. "I'm not stupid enough to repeat history, Todd. I won't die like you."

His words struck a chord within Jason. "Dick, I want my daughter back."

"I said she doesn't belong to you," Damian clarified getting Jason's attention again. "She doesn't know who you are. You're a complete stranger to her."

Jason rubbed his face in annoyance, "Which is why I'm taking her back, [Name] needs to be with her father. This is adult business and you don't understand that-"

"Adult business? Since when have you started acting like an adult? The only person that kept you in line was Aurora, [Name]'s mother." Damian spat with hatred.

Jason's blue eyes changed from a sunny sky to a storm in an ocean, "Don't say her name. You have no right to judge me for what I've been through."

"Imagine what you put [Name] through!" Damian pointed at the two year old sniffling in Dick's arms, "She may not understand what's going on, but she can tell by our expressions that this isn't pretty!"

"Why do you care for her so much, huh? She isn't yours to begin with. She never was!"

"I've been at her side longer than you have which is more than you can say for yourself! You're unfit to be a father!"

Dick watched with careful eyes as his brothers argued amongst each other. [Name] kicked her legs and pushed against his arms wanting to be near the bickering males. Then Dick started feeling weird and [Name] was beginning to sparkle.

Then suddenly she started floating out of his arms. "Guys…" Dick drawled out trying to get their attention. But they weren't listening. Dick watched as [Name] grew. Literally grow right in front of him.

"I say we got about this a different way, pipsqueak," Jason grabbed Damian by the collar of his black shirt.

"Is that a challenge, Todd?" Damian questioned raising a fist up in the air.

As Damian was going to unleash his anger, he stopped once he felt a weight on his back and small arms wrap around his waist. He looked down and saw a girl with [h.color] hair holding onto him tightly. Her eyes closed and tears streaming down her pretty face.

Damian lowered his arm and called out to the little girl, "[Name]?"

......

Tags: @zalladane @buchanangaby @poisoned-pineapple

#damian and dick #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #batman imagine #batfam imagine #batman #dc universe #dc imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #my universe

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yougottalovekyloren · 4 years

Text

Across the Stars (Part 14)

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I hope you all are doing well and are staying healthy! This past week, I have been trying to decide what my new update schedule should be, and I think that I’m going to aim to update at least once a week.I’m thinking Fridays, but let me know what you all think! I only have three weeks left in my semester, and then I’m free... for two weeks and then I begin a few summer courses to get ahead. BUT.... those two weeks will have quite a few uploads! Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and I will try to have my new one part imagine up by the end of the week (no promises, though!)

-M <3

Y/N'S POV

My eyes fluttered opens lowly, sore and red with fatigue. I was still in Ben's arms, leaned against the wall. I glanced up at him. His head leaned back against it, his eyes closed and hair falling slightly over his eyes. I let out a small sigh and leaned against his chest, closing my eyes as I soaked in the rare moment of peace.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to last.

Only a few brief moments later, the door opened with a sharp woosh, and a familiar silver-plated figure stepped into the room. My hand instinctually grasped onto Ben’s arm.

"Get up, girl." Phasma snapped, her hand wrapping around my arm and yanking me from where I sat. A new hand grabbed the other, pulling me back towards its source.

"She's not going anywhere." Ben’s voice was deadly, clearly awake now. The normally emotionless Captain let out a small snort.

"Wake up, Ben. You are no longer my commander. Your words are empty. You are a prisoner of the First Order."

"Do not call me that." He hissed, not releasing his hold on me. She shook her head.

"I have to take her. She needs to be questioned."

"By who?"

"Garrik Turon, your new replacement. You may remember him from when you started training under Snoke." I could almost hear her amusement under her mask. I had no idea who that was, so I tried to believe that I had nothing to fear. But as soon as I saw Ben's face, my confidence shattered into a million pieces. As much as he tried to hide it, I could still see the fear glistening in his eyes. It quickly morphed into white hot rage.

"You can't take her to him."

"I can, and I will." Phasma grabbed me and pulled me up again. But as Ben rose to get me again, a dart of some sort shot out of Phasma's wrist and sunk into his neck.

"No!" I could only watch in horror as he dropped to the ground, his eyes open and body twitching.

"It only stunned him, you stupid girl." She growled, yanking me towards the door. "Let's go!"

"B-Ben." I cried, trying to pull away and go back to his side. A familiar click of a gun sounded only mere inches from my ear, making me freeze.

"I suggest that you walk out of the cell before your beloved watches your blood coat the floor." Phasma spat icily. "He is not here to save you now."

I looked down at him sadly, watching as the effects started to wear off slowly. I had to do this, for Ben's sake.

I walked slowly out of the room, terrified to go forward but not daring to go back. My bottom lip caught between my teeth as I held back tears, hearing the door shut quietly behind me. My life hung by a thread.

"Let's go." The gun pressed against the small of my back, and I felt myself stumble forward. We walked through several long corridors before we reached our destination. "Go inside. He's waiting."

Trying to hide my fear, I entered the room. A dark figure sat in a chair, a simple hood covering his face.

"So... this is the girl who turned Kylo Ren soft." His voice sent a shiver down my spine. He rose and removed his hood. My eyebrows rose a little in surprise. This man was only a handful of years older than myself, not too much younger than Ben. He had soft wavy brown hair and a scar that ran directly across his right across his right eye. If his lips weren't twisted in a nasty sneer, I would’ve considered him somewhat handsome.

"I didn't make him weak." I swallowed, before continuing to speak. "I-"

A brilliant flash of pain cut me off, and a startled cry of pain escaped my lips as my body dropped to the floor.

"I didn't ask you to speak." His voice was quiet, a slight twinge of amusement laced in with his calm demeanor, watching as I gasped for breath. My head was throbbing and something inside my chest was beginning to burn, like a growing fire. "Do you know who I am? You may speak now. “

"No." I managed to whimper.

"I'm Garrik Turon. But you can call me Lord Turon." He looked down at my darkly, disgust evident in his gaze. "I'm ten times stronger than your little boyfriend ever was, and will ever be. I do not give in when the first set of pretty Y/E/C eyes and long legs come along!"

I felt myself slowly begin to cry as I felt the fire continue to burn deeper in my chest, and the pounding in my head grow harder to bear. Who knew when it would be over? Or if I’d ever see Ben again?

---

Ben's POV

I slammed my fist into the wall for the fifth time since she was taken away. Blood began to soak through the dark fabric of my gloves, but I could not even begin to care in the slightest.

They had taken Y/N away.

They took her to him.

The thought only made me angrier than I already was, my jaw tensing as my fist clenched again.

I had known Garrik for years. He was just as bad as I was, if not worse. The friend I once knew knew nearly nothing of the Light. Snoke had made sure of that.

(FLASHBACK TEN YEARS)

"Do you have family?" I asked after a particularly grueling duel, sitting next to him on the bench inside the training center. He wasn’t much younger than I was, perhaps fourteen or fifteen.

"I do." His smile was bright, reaching his eyes.. "I'm hoping they'll be able to visit one day."

I winced slightly, the painful images of my mother and father racing through my mind. And of course... my uncle. But that didn’t matter anymore. The past was in the past.

"Maybe. But for now, we have to concentrate on training."

"Absolutely." Garrik looked at me. "Will you help me?”

"Sure. Why not? Let’s get going.”

(FLASHBACK END)

Not even a week later, Garrik received word that his family had been murdered. It did not take much sleuthing to know who had been behind the vicious attack. I expected nothing less from someone with that much hatred.

But after that moment in the training room, I never saw him smile again. I knew that whatever light, whatever inch of happiness was left inside him was gone.

The Dark Side was all he had left.

After that, he trained hard. Just as hard as me. When Snoke appointed me as Commander, everything changed between us. Whatever friendship we had was destroyed.

He became consumed by jealously, and I frankly didn't blame him at all. But after that, I kept my distance and he kept his. All that remained was a growing tension. I hadn't seen him in a year or two.

As I found myself lost in my thoughts, the door opened and my head snapped up. Phasma took a step into the room. "Where the hell is she?"

"She will be brought in in a few minutes." She hesitated,before continuing. "But first, Ren, I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." I shrugged absentmindedly, pulling off my gloves and examining the damage my fists had taken only moments earlier..

"There is everything to talk about!" Phasma hissed. "You betrayed us! You betrayed the First Order for a girl!"

"I know what I did." My gaze shifted to her once again, hard and cold. "And I have no regret for my actions."

She knelt in front of me.

"You came to us, remember? You felt the Calling and you left. You came to find a greater purpose, more potential."

"Shut up." I snapped. "You don't know anything."

"I do know something." She scoffed. "That girl will die, Ren. What then?"

"I won't let her die." I narrowed my eyes. "I will protect her, always."

“But it doesn’t seem that you can now, does it? Not even your love can save-”

I stretched my hand out, starting to choke her. "What would you know about love?”

"If you do not let me go in five seconds, you will never see Y/N again." Phasma choked out and I immediately released my hold on her. She slowly rose to her feet, and started walking to the door, pausing and looking back at me. “I loved you... more than you would ever know.”

I couldn’t comprehend which was more powerful, my disgust or my confusion. I gazed up at her, before speaking. “What of it now?”

Even through her mask, I could tell she was torn in two. I did not feel anything remotely close to what she felt for me, but surely her loyalty to me could be manipulated to be stronger than to those for the First Order.

Phasma’s helmet tipped upwards. “It sure doesn’t matter now, does it?”

The room fell silent.

"Bring in the prisoner."

The door opened once again, and two Stormtroopers entered the room. In between them, was Y/N.

She did not look well at all. Her eyes were wet with tears, rimmed red with exhaustion. Her hair was a mess, and I could see slight bruising around her arms. I immediately rose to my feet.

"What did he do to her?”

"Not my business nor my place to disclose anything related to the First Order’s interrogation procedures." Phasma’s voice hardened once more. "Ask him when you see him tomorrow."

Without another word, she stormed out of the room, the troopers not far behind. The door shut not long after their departure. Y/N stood silently in the middle of the room, shaking slightly.

"What did he do to you?" I whispered, walking slowly and cautiously to her side.

"He..." Her voice cracked and she paused, as if she was praying for her tears to disappear. "He hurt me. In ways that I have never been hurt before. My body felt like it was on fire." I looked at her, and I instantly knew that she was leaving something out of her story.

"What else?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me." I said firmly, taking her hand in mine. "I need to know."

"He touched my head." Y/N whispered, her voice weak as she spoke further. "And he put a vision inside." I squeezed her hand when she hesitated to continue.

"Please."

"You died." Y/N whimpered. "Over and over again. I was next to you, and couldn't do anything but watch as he killed you.”

"I'm not going to die." I pulled her closer to me. "Don't worry."

"I lost track of how many times he made me watch you die. It feels like it’s destined to happen." She softly, numbly.. "What if it’s what lays ahead of us?"

"No." I said firmly. "It won't. I'm not going to die and neither are you."

“It seems that are chances of surviving these days have been fairly small.”

"I'm seeing hint tomorrow. I will kill him myself, if or when it comes down to it.”

"You don't have your lightsaber."

"No." I shook my head. "But I know how to without it."

“How-”

"Don't dwell on it anymore, my stars." I kissed her forehead softly. "Come, close your eyes and rest. That is something that we both need more than anything now.”

----

#Kylo #kylo ren #kyloren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #kylo ren x you #kylorenxyou #kylo ren x y/n #bensolo #ben solo #ben solo x y/n #ben solo x you #ben x reader #ben solo imagine

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writeanapocalae · 5 years

Text

Inktober: Stabbed

Warnings for death, body horror, and eye horror

The sun was blearing hot, reflected off the sand and into his eyes. Even with his helmet, there wasn’t enough shade for him. He couldn’t wear sunglasses like the rest of them, it would mess with his lighting. He had to get the shots perfect. He was there for a job, not for art, but he could do nothing if it weren’t art as well.

He was following the troops, being waved along when he fell behind, too distracted with the need to take the perfect shot to keep up. Sergeant Besson was with him, almost grabbing him by the arm, when they heard it. It was a high pitched whistle, growing louder. Besson screamed, abandoning him to dash to the side. Stefano just stood there, camera at the ready, shot after shot of the sergeant as he ran from the bomb that was falling on them.

And then it hit, landing in the dust and the sand, bursting and shattering and tearing apart the body before him. It was a miasma of gore, ad eruption of entrails and bone. Agony tore through him like a flash of fire, a million pinpricks of white heat, his own body a target for all the asteroids in the night sky.

The sun was blearing hot. But the blood pouring down his face, his arm, everything closest to the sergeant, was cool. The throbbing pulse in his eye was nothing. In front of him, was the snapshot, the perfectly framed death of a man, and it was everything. In that moment, nothing mattered more than the fact that he had caught it all in silver nitrate.

They would say he was lucky to have survived the blast, that it only took what it had. He would say that he was lucky to have been born in that very moment.

The moon was a crescent, cool and watchful, the perfect audience, a slit pupil in the massive sky. There was a scream in the night, the song that came along with the most beautiful artistry. Nothing worked, nothing gave him so much life, as that quick flash of fear. He captured her, again and again, Maria, chasing her through her own estate. He caught her with film. He caught her with his blade, a curved thing, more flashy than necessary, but perfect for his purpose.

She tried to escape him, but he was no fool. He had photographed her many times in this place. He knew all of the exits. He knew how to lock all of the windows. They never thought to break them. It was as if, even with their terror, they wanted to be caught.

And so he caught her. A flash of the camera in the darkness, the glean of his knife. Another scream as he spun her, her black gown shining with beads and blood. The knife entered her chest and the chase was done. He caught her again and again, filling the camera with her face, with the way that her life slipped down her breast into the fabric, with the way she struggled to breath. It was not an easy death, but it was, in it’s way, art.

It was not perfect though, not in the slightest. He could not recapture the feeling of that moment in the desert. He would try again. He would try with another. He had an entire second life to keep trying, to try to line up the perfect shot.

There was no moon. There was no sun. There was no time. There was nothing but him and a handful of others, though they were hard to account for. The people of the small town were monsters or prey. A few took him by surprise, the woman in white and those wearing bulletproof vests in a space where the threats didn’t come from a gun, but they left him alone, for the most part. One of them even tried to save him. He had thought that humorous. He had also proved just how useless the vest was by shooting the man in the temple with his own gun, at point blank range of his camera.

This place, he could do so much here. He was stronger than he’d ever been before. He was inspired and what he wanted to create, he could, and what was more, his art took on a very much literal life of its own. Most importantly, he had a patron who adored him and could not wait to see his next piece. All he had to do was bring him the girl.

And she had inspired him. Her screams as she ran through the town, more frightened of him than the then budding monsters, reminded him of simpler times. He knew where she was all the while, of course, but he allowed her to lose him, to gain traction against him, so that he could take in more of that fear, build it in her heart.

She had almost escaped once, when he was overtaken by a sudden jolt of pain from the shrapnel still embedded in his eye. He had stumbled, released his grip on her, and she had sprinted towards the lumber yard.

There were no celestial bodies in this town, not anymore, so he devised to make one himself, a massive eye to replace the one in his head. He would be his own audience and the audience of any other artists that came to this place.

There was a light in the room, small but bright, and it blinded him. Even with his face buried in his hands, the smell of the leather gloves in his nose, he could not be rid of the brightness. It wasn’t just in the bulb but in his eye, the shrapnel digging painfully. It did so when the weather changed, or he was cold, or he stayed up too late, or he hadn’t had enough to drink, or any other manner of things. It shook him, the stabbing pain, hurting more now than it had in his making.

A hand was on his shoulder and he would have jumped in surprise if he hadn’t been in so much pain. He wanted it done with, it all over with. The weight was good, grounding, but with how often he hurt, not just his eye but all of his old scars, it sometimes wasn’t enough. A kiss on his bared cheek helped as well. But both were gone soon enough and a voice, deep and tired but compassionate came to him like a tuneless old song that he only knew from memory.

His hands were pulled away from his face and his gloves were gently removed. Kisses were placed on his knuckles and pills were placed on his palms. He knew that the pills would make him bleed but he was used to blood. It was why he wore so much red. He took the pills and the glass of water that was offered after. The light in the room was dimmer now, not from the original light but from a smaller lantern. Sebastian never went anywhere in the dark and Stefano had been surprised that he was most comfortable with a camp lantern.

His hands cradled Stefano’s face and more soft words were spoken. He wanted to hear them. He wanted to believe them. For the moment, all he could do was trust their sincere tone.

A new weight, a warm one, was draped around his shoulders. Sebastian was sitting on the bed with him, pulling the blanket close around him. His hair was brushed away from his eye and he wanted to pull away, he wanted to hide it. He was used to Sebastian, he was used to being seen, but with this, in this moment, when all his eye did was cause him pain, he didn’t want it seen. He wanted it gone. Perhaps, next time Sebastian and Lily left the house, he would take a knife from the pantry and pry it out.

Kisses were being pressed to his cheek though, to the skin around the wound, to the scars that littered his flesh. Sebastian knew them, all of them, and had never balked. The cold of his lips were refreshing and the tickle of his stubble was a lovely distraction. The pain would take a long time to settle but this was nice, a slight reprieve, and it was something that he could hold onto.

He wished he could capture it on silver nitrate as well.

#whumptober2019 #no. 8 #my writing #the evil within 2 #steseb #stefano valentini #sebastian castellanos #fanfiction

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goliath-de-senfina-sango · 5 years

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dash Baxter/Danny Fenton, Jack Fenton/Maddie Fenton Characters: Dash Baxter, Wesley Weston, OC - Character, Danny Fenton, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Ghost Writer (Danny Phantom), Andrew Riter Additional Tags: Soulmates, Reluctant Soulmates, countless headcanons, Not Phantom Planet Compliant, my canon now, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, will tag with progress, No Betas we die like fools Summary:

Casper High is a school that has several clubs, including the Occult Club, which Dash should've stayed very far away from no matter what Wes said. Now thanks to the conspiracy theorist, Phantom was pissed at him and the jock and hero were soulbound by a spell that Wes had fudged and Dash had mispronounced. How's he gonna make it up to his hero?

The soulmates fic that only my best bro really wanted out of me, which my brain was forced to provide.

Ao3 / Fanfiction.net

In hindsight, Dash should've stayed away from the occult club altogether. Sure, Wes had said they were gonna use some magick ritual they'd figured out to summon phantom, but people generally wanted to think they could do that and a club at school was the least likely to succeed. But Weston had been confident and Dash wasn't gonna pass on an opportunity to meet his hero without an attack happening.

So he'd gone along with it, even demanded to be the one to do it when they started. There was a chalk circle on the floor, candles, and one of em had a fuckin needle to prick themself with for it. Whatever, Dash wasn't unused to a little pain - he busted his knuckles on nerd's faces sometimes. So he got a drop on the circle, and he said the chant, and the candles turned green instead of reddish-yellow. But while the room went dark and cold and started looking like the night sky had come down to grab them, Dash may have fucked up a word in the book.

There he appeared, in a flash of light so bright Dash had to squint. Sky blue skin, a halo of white hair, freckles that glowed green and that ghost hunting hazmat suit of his. While Phantom was looking around like he was dizzy, Dash felt something. He Saw it, even, a line of bright silver that came out of his chest and turned toxic green before ending at the DP on Phantom's chest. Frowning, Dash looked over at the head of the club. "The fuck is this? A cord?"

"Oh no… oh no no no." The head nerd, a brunette with glasses and a mint green shirt, grabbed the book in Dash's hand and read what he'd said. Then his head whipped over to Wes and the basketballer backed up, his camera flashing the recording light. "You fucked up the summoning ritual!"

"Austin, I swear I was just-"

"This is a binding ritual, Wes, it binds the spirit to the target object - the circle, it looks like?"

"Pretty shitty binding," Phantom said, turning everyone's attention back to him. The blue-faced ghost was floating all around the room, soft green inner light casting weird shadows everywhere. "I'm nowhere near it. What is this thing between me and Dash though?"

"… Fuck." Wes quickly played back his recording on his camera to listen to what Dash had chanted. Dash could hear the moment he fumbled the words and Wes paled when he heard it. "That was the wrong subject word-"

"So you've bound Phantom's soul to Dash's soul now, is what I'm translating here. Cause that, wait lemme.” Austin grabbed the camera and replayed the video a few times while Dash dealt with a sea of complicated emotions. Confusion, shock, anger, resentment, anxiety. Those last three weren’t new per se but they felt… off. Not his. “Wes this is a permanent binding what the fuck?!”

“It wouldn’t’ve been permanent! We coulda scuffed the circle and the thing he’s bound to would be gone!”

Phantom reached down and grabbed the ginger by his shirt, lifting him two feet off the ground. His eyes were blue and gold and red, that dim green aura was now white and yellow and flaring up in arcs. “So lemme get this straight, Wesley. In your insane attempts to prove me as the still-living son of ghost hunters, you decided you'd bind me to a chalk circle. Which might bind me to the chalk itself, tearing me apart to keep myself connected to since you're a fucking hack."

"I-I-I hadn't uh thought of that, b-"

"And instead of that you let Dash, a jo- no THE Jock, read off the spell and so now you've bound me, irreversibly, to another person's soul. Did I get that right?"

Wes nodded the slightest bit, his entire frame shaking and Dash couldn't blame him. Dash was entirely up for pummeling Wes for fucking up his hairbrained scheme, but Phantom looked like he was about to rip Wes apart. He had fangs and his hair was turning into a cloud of fire that sucked all the heat out of the room instead of pushing it out into everything. Wes' shirt was frosting over and Austin and his band of merry freaks were shivering.

"When you get to the afterlife, Wes, I promise you a world of pain. And if you do something so fucking stupid and dangerous that it risks my safety and the safety of everyone else around you again, I'm tossing you to the police by your Fucking underwear!" Wes was dropped on his ass and Phantom growled, fading from sight. There was a Pop, all the pressure in the room shifting, and Dash rubbed his head with a groan.

"Wes you fucking idiot! Now Phantom is pissed at me and it's your fault!" Phantom may have decided not to give Wes what he had coming to him, Dash didn't have superpowers to worry about getting out of hand.

And so Dash had detention that day for wailing on a fellow school athlete.

“I swear I’m going to shatter his camera into a million tiny pieces and make him eat them,” Danny growled and struggled with not breaking his locker when he slammed it shut. The lights overhead buzzed louder and shone brighter from the energy pouring out of him, and Danny took several deep breaths. “Not only was what he wanted to do stupid and dangerous, now I’m fucking - what, Soulmates? With him?”

“Chill, Danny, I’m sure we can fix this.” Tucker pulled his sash from around his shirt and with a flick, it became a scepter once more. Holding out the golden rod over Danny, a look of concentration passed over the geek’s face while azure light bathed Danny’s body. The green thread leading off toward Dash was highlighted, though the silver threads leading to Tucker, Sam and Jazz were also visible and even the blue ones trailing off to his Mom and Dad. Tucker’s magick wrapped around his green thread and for a moment, Danny was sure that it’d be cut and all of this would be over and dealt with.

Tucker’s scepter was knocked out of his hand and clattered loudly on the tile floor of the school and the green thread shone brighter than before, seeming to have simply soaked up the magick. Danny’s growl was deep in his chest this time, and one of the lights blew a fuse. “That’s fucking ridiculous! He just read off the spell without even knowing what it did, why would that be stronger than the Pharoah’s command?”

“The language might not be from this world, Danny. We’ll have to ask Andrew if he knows how to undo it.” Sam patted Danny on his shoulder and he leaned onto her, embracing the calm of her aura. The bell rang and Danny pulled his hood over his head, pulling it shut over his face with the drawstrings. “C’ mon, let’s get you home and we can head over to see him right now.”

Danny grumbled as he was pulled along by Sam and Tucker outside to the parking lot, where all three of them pulled out their hoverboards. Danny mounted his star and nebulae covered creation and slipped on his helmet. The one he’d made for Tucker was gold and chrome-colored, a techno styled F on the bottom of it, while Sam’s was black with creeping vines appearing to weave all around it. It had been fun building these boards with Tucker and personalizing them since they made flying to school easier on them all. Magnetic boots locked in place, Danny slipped on the remote control glove and took off, followed closely by his friends into the even sky to the envious stares of their schoolmates.

The only ghosts that got in their way home were Skulker and the Box Ghost, and while Boxy was easy to take down with a few well-placed shots, Danny had to split off a Phantom copy while still in human form to take down Skulker, which sucked because he didn’t have the energy to make one as strong as he normally was in ghost form. With a kick to Skulker’s head that removed his helmet, and a swift click of the button on the Thermos, Skulker was dealt with and they headed to Fenton works.

Descending the stairs of the Fenton home to the basement lab and finding it empty was a blessing, mostly available due to Sam and her meddling in the business affairs of Fenton Works. Getting to the Ghost Writer’s library from there was a cakewalk, and soon they were knocking on his doors.

“Andy, I have a problem and I need your help fixing it!” Getting no reply for a moment, Danny took a deep superfluous breath and whined loudly against the door. “Aaandyyyyy!” The door opened inward fast enough that Danny hit the floor, and grumbled something rude about Vidya playing cruel pranks on him.

“Don’t pretend that Vidya doesn’t love you about as much as she does me, Danny, you’ll never get away with a lie that flimsy.” The baritone laughter of the Ghost Writer, otherwise known to a few as Andrew Riter, met Danny’s ears and a shark-toothed smile greeted Sam and Tucker. The librarian in grey and purple invited them deeper in to sit on couches and cushions scattered about the shelves of the library and cups of coffee and tea set themselves down on the table before them. “Alright, what trouble have you gotten yourselves into this time?”

“This time it wasn’t one of us, actually.” Sam nudged Danny with her boot and he slumped against Tucker, taking a long sip of his tea. “An idiot, Wes, tried to bind him to a circle during an event that the Occult Club was performing to summon Danny, but they let Dash Baxter read it and when Danny appeared, apparently Dash stuttered the wrong words and now he and Danny are bound by the soul. As far as we know.”

Andrew adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowed at Danny as a trio of books flew to him and Danny repeated the spell for Andrew to decipher. “Give me a couple of days to look this one up. Artificially created Soul Bonds like that typically break with the right spell and if both parties agree to sever the link.” Tucker groaned while Danny buried his face in his hands.

“I have to convince Dash to unlink himself with me? Wonderful. Fuck me, I guess.”

Tucker patted the ghost boy on his shoulder and Danny whined.

Ao3 / Fanfiction.net

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ryder-s-block · 5 years

Text

Jaig Eyes (Ch 5)

Chapter 5/?

Always Avaliable on Fanfic

Chapter Five: The Rescue

“Kida,” Senator Amidala spoke gently through Rex’s communicator. “Everything is fine here. I really don’t think-”

“No, she’s right,” Skywalker cut her off, his voice joining hers. “If Aurra Sing is targeting people that will get your personal protection away from you, she’s coming for you next.” I glanced at the captain, my lips pressing together nervously. “I’ll keep an eye on her here,” the jedi spoke to us again. “Rex, you and Kida do a sweep of the area. There must be somewhere she’s hiding.”

“Yes sir,” the captain responded immediately, tapping his wrist communicator to silence it. He looked sideways at me as I turned the speeder gently, the Senate building coming into view. “So where do you think she is?”

I didn’t respond, teasing my lip with my teeth as I scanned the skyline of the never-ending city. There were a thousand places someone could hide. A million nooks and crannies to crawl. Even more tunnels and broken panels to escape through. “I don’t get it,” I mused out loud, still ignoring Rex’s question. “Why get me away from the senator just to wait until I’m back again?”

“She knows we’re coming, too,” he added with a grunt. “She wants you to. Otherwise she would’ve just killed your friend.”

He wasn’t wrong. She was there somewhere...but she was waiting for me. To make me see my failure? Or was I a target too? I said nothing, struggling to stop my racing mind long enough to reach out with my feelings instead. I pushed past the calm and curious serenity of the captain’s mind and searched the force. I tried to find the signature I had come to recognize as Aurra over our jobs spent together. Cold. Calculated. Composed. But seething below the surface. Angry. Greedy. Manipulative.

“What should I be looking for?” Rex finally spoke, breaking me from my focus. I gave him a glance, shaking my head.

“I’m not even sure. There’s a thousand places she could be hiding.”

“Then what are we hoping to achieve? We should land and form a search pattern. Get teams out.”

I smiled gently, turning the speeder slightly to keep up the perimeter sweep. “I’m sure your general has that covered. We were told to check the perimeter, right?”

He looked forward again, his facial expression hidden from my peering eyes. Still, I could feel his anxiety, despite trying to hide it.

“I didn’t know clones got nervous,” I spoke with a light tone, trying to ease both our minds.

“Why do you say that?” he asked in return, his tension still high.

I chuckled. “I know your training regiment, remember? The Kaminoans worked to eradicate disobedience, fear… individuality.” I was prodding him, and he knew it.

“Yes, we were trained for that,” he answered vaguely. I could tell he was trying to tame his nerves.

I cast him a side smile, but he didn’t see me. “Yet…” I fished.

“What makes you think I’m nervous?” He was getting defensive, so I looked away, focusing on steering the speeder and searching for Aurra.

“I just don’t think any man is free of fear,” I said quietly.

He didn’t respond, but I could feel his mixture of emotions. He wasn’t sure how to react. There was gratitude, anxiety, a sense of duty, and an attachment to the senator. I was sure he inherited that from his general.

We circled for a while longer, my thoughts reluctantly receding from the captain and searching for Aurra again. My gaze turned to the Senate building again, searching for the wide window I knew would belong to the Senator of Naboo. My eyes lifted suddenly, my world slowing as I became hyper-aware of my breathing and heartbeat. The sound of a blaster shot echoed across the open air, my mind sensing the heat of the bolt.

I immediately pulled up on the joysticks, the captain falling forward violently as the speeder jerked upwards. He caught himself with his hands on the dashboard, cursing under his breath. He didn’t have a moment to say something as the bolt flew by us and struck a neon sign. It erupted in sparks, the flashing screen glitching out.

“Kriff!” he swore, both our heads whirling to watch another bolt flying towards us. I dragged on the joysticks, but couldn’t move fast enough. The bolt struck the underbelly of my speeder, the machine immediately lurching to the side. “What’d she hit?” the captain yelled, gripping the side as we lurched wildly.

“The rear thruster has taken severe damage, miss,” Apex responded immediately.

I grit my teeth, struggling to keep us airborne as the speeder began to spin. “Fix! Now!” The dashboard lit up as Apex worked to reroute power and stabilize the speeder again. In a moment, I regained more control, but we still dragged heavily to the side, the back left repulsor struggling to take on the load.

“I’ve done what I can,” Apex spoke. “But the engine will give out soon if you continue to fly.”

“Right,” I said through a clenched jaw, veering the speeder sideways as we turned the corner around the Senate building.

“We need to land,” Rex pushed, his head turned to look back where the shot had come from. “She could fire again.”

“She won’t,” I growled. “At least, not at us.” Rex immediately drew electrobinoculars, peering through them.

“Kriff,” he swore. “It’s Aurra.” He lifted his wrist communicator as I glanced back in the direction he was looking. “General, you need to vacate the Senator’s office. Now!”

I connected his thought, glancing back to where I could see the Naboo office windows, wide and inviting.

“A blaster shot can’t get through these,” I heard Skywalker’s padawan voice through the communicator.

“Sir, please,” the captain shot back. “She’s got a rocket-”

I glanced back again, my eyes catching the bright flash of a rocket leaving the launcher. “Too late!” I cried, veering the speeder sideways. “Hold on, Rex,” I commanded as he lurched, his electrobinoculars flying out of the cockpit. He gripped the side of the speeder, his mind racing. I knew he understood what we were doing. I let go, letting the force guide me as the speeder drifted into the path of the rocket, its underbelly blocking the Senate building. I released the joysticks, grabbing Rex’s wrist and dragging him forward and out of the speeder. We leapt, falling through open air for a moment, before the rocket collided with my speeder.

It exploded violently, its shockwave launching the clone and I forward. Debris flew past us as I felt the searing heat of the flames, the debris flying through Senator Amidala’s window. It shattered the glass, both Rex and I falling through as the flames followed us. I rolled as well as I could in my landing, tumbling to the wall.

I screwed my eyes shut against the pain and flaming debris, slowly lifting my head. “That bitch,” I cursed lightly as I pushed myself to my knees, my body complaining. “Broke into my club,” I grunted. “Stabbed my friend. Tricked me. Tried to sabotage my job. Tried to kill me. Blew up my speeder.” I found my feet, leaning heavily on the scorched wall. I stumbled to Rex, glancing up to see that the room was empty. The far door opened, revealing the senator behind guards and two ready jedi.

The captain grunted on the ground, causing me to kneel beside him. “Kriff,” he swore under his breath. I glanced down, seeing debris wedged under the break in his armor, stabbing into the flesh between his shoulder and chest. My fingers grazed around it, seeing it at a dangerous angle towards his heart.

“Take it easy, Captain,” I commanded as he tried to sit up. “You’re hurt.”

“The senator,” he fought weakly.

“Is safe,” Skywalker cut in as he entered the room, giving me a glare.

Rex nodded at him, before struggling to get in a breath. I removed his helmet for him, his golden eyes staring into mine. I nearly gasped from the intensity he projected through the force. A ferociousness I rarely felt alongside the serenity of his mind. “Aurra,” he said simply, clearly in pain.

I pressed my lips into a line before standing slowly, my mouth curving into a grim smile. I drew my two pistols on my side, the mechanism reacting to my touch easily. They opened and expanded, attaching together to make a rifle. “Don’t worry,” I said cockily as I attached a scope from my belt. “I’m killing her.”

“What?” I heard the senator cry from behind her guards. “She needs to stand trial!” I ignored her and walked to the shattered window, lifting my scope to my eye.

The force rippled and I sidestepped as she took another shot with her sniper. The bolt blasted past me and struck the ground. I took my own shot, but she moved, her figure receding from the balcony and entering the building. I let off another shot and watched it shatter through a window she passed, but failed to down her.

“Well, you get what you want, Senator,” I called behind me. “I didn’t kill her, but now you know what building she’s in.” I cast my glance to the jedi. “Better get your men moving.”

Skywalker immediately consulted his wrist comm, gesturing to his padawan. “Come on, Ahsoka.” The two left the room, medics entering to attend to Rex. I recognized the armor of one, walking over as I deconstructed my rifle and holstered the pieces.

“Kix,” I heard Rex say gently, grunting in pain as the medic examined him. “I’m fine.”

“That’s very heroic of you, Captain,” I teased gently. “But even I couldn’t play off a piece of metal sticking out of my chest.”

The medic -Kix- administered pain relievers to his commanding officer, gesturing to some soldiers to bring in a stretcher. He glanced at me. “I’m moving him to medbay.”

I almost responded earnestly, but my mind stopped me. I put on a gentle smirk and crossed my arms. “I’m not his keeper, soldier. You’re the medic. Do what’s right.”

I felt the confusion ripple off of Kix, but ignored it as he returned to his job and helped lift the captain to the stretcher. He was led from the room, my attention struggling to return to the senator.

“We should get you somewhere safe,” I voiced as I exited her wrecked office and approached.

“I agree,” she responded, glancing over my frame. “And I think it should be the medbay.” My eyebrows lifted, but she continued. “You’re covered in cuts and burns. You can’t protect me if you die from infection.”

“I really don’t think-”

“That’s an order from your employer,” she cut me off. I gaped, but conceded, allowing her to speak. “You can protect me by watching me as you get looked at by a medic. Got it?”

I eyed her for a few moments before finally smiling. “Yes ma’am,” I allowed, giving her a gentle bow of my head. She lifted her decorated arm, gesturing to follow the path Kix had taken with his new patient. I sighed, obliging and leading the way towards the medbay.

The entire building was on high alert, my senses jumping with the anxiety that flowed through everyone. Soldiers were swarming the area, each clad in painted armor. Their eyes glanced my way as I passed, prodding me to wonder if the clones gossiped more than they let on. They were vod...family. I’m sure word had gotten around about the bounty hunter who was trained by Jango. Maybe they were trying to catch sight of my Jaig eyes.

The medbay was empty aside from the captain and Kix. Rex looked pretty out of it as Kix worked on him, removing the shrapnel from his shoulder. Senator Amidala’s gentle hand guided me to sit on one of the beds, waiting patiently for the medic. As my pulse finally slowed and my adrenaline sapped me of my energy, I became aware of the smell. Fuel. Smoke. Metal. Burning hair. My mouth tasted metallic with the blood that slipped from my lip. My exposed skin stung with cuts- none too bad. Even the skin that was covered smarted with a burn on the back of my shoulder, the protective material melting to stick against the damaged skin.

A medical droid approached me and I let my mind drift as it began its work, slowly peeling away my protective layers. I guided my thoughts away from the horrible burning of the melted fabric detaching from my wounds, dwelling on the clones, surprisingly.

When Jango rescued me from the slavers, he took me to Kamino. The rain was pounding against the ship’s windows, the dark waters darting past as the bounty hunter navigated towards his base. My tiny frame, bruised and malnourished, cowered behind his seat in the cockpit, peering past his shoulder. I hadn’t seen rain like that in my life, feeling the winds pull at the powerful ship. In the distance, lights drew closer, revealing floating platforms that created a city above the raging waters.

I gripped the wall nervously as Jango turned his ship to land, the cockpit rotating with the ship’s movements. He barely looked at me as he stood and deftly exited the cockpit, the ramp descending onto the soaked platform. The bounty hunter looked back at me, his blue helmet under his arm. His black eyebrow lifted, his scarred face crinkling.

“Are you coming, ad’ika? Or are you staying on the ship tonight?” I didn’t move, watching him in fear. “It gets cold here at night.”

I swallowed thickly, slowly moving out from the cockpit and stepping down the ramp. I stopped at the bottom, my hand swiping out to feel the rain drench my skin. The man, now covered in water, gave me an amused smirk. He rolled his eyes before removing his cloak from around his shoulders, the raindrops making small dinging noises off his armor. I jumped as he neared, but his presence was calming...nothing like the Mandalorians I’d spent six months with. He shushed me gently before wrapping the cloak around my shoulders. His hands were firm, but gentle, guiding me out into the rain. I looked up at it, the water pouring over my hood and dripping into my face.

It was strangely freeing. For all I knew, I was walking into slavery again...but this single moment was as free as I’d been in years.

Jango nudged my shoulder gently, leading me across the platform, my feet splashing happily before the doors opened. I was struck with a blaring brightness, the walls and floor all white and clean. The bounty hunter led me with a hand on my shoulder as I struggled to see in the light change. I quickly lost my bearings, the hallways all identical and twisting, not to mention my eyes refusing to focus.

I kept my gaze down, my muscles tensing when I heard a voice. “Jango Fett.” The voice was soft and even, nearly automated. I was aware of a tense presence...something so calm and collected it was sure to be hiding something. My eyes lifted to see a lithe creature with stark white skin that looked as smooth as glass. She had a long neck covered with purple cloth, her rounded face bright against her massive black eyes and split nose.

“Taun We,” Jango responded immediately, slowing beside me. I felt some irritation ripple off of him, but pushed it away. He was Mandalorian. I knew how they felt about force sensitives.

The female--Taun We--cast her massive black eyes down at me. “What is this?”

Jango’s hand gripped my shoulder gently, holding down my flinch at his touch. “I saved her from slavery today. She’ll be staying with me for now.”

Some frustration rippled off of Taun We, but her expression didn’t change. “We have already permitted one child,” she started. “Another-”

“You haven’t given me this one. You’re losing nothing.” Jango’s voice was polite, but masked tension.

“Another mouth is another mouth.”

Jango’s hand squeezed my shoulder gently as his mind turned. “Boba needs a friend. One that doesn’t outgrow him in the matter of months.” His tone was final and the female creature recognized it.

“Very well,” she said. “How long will she be staying?”

The bounty hunter gently nudged me forward, walking around Taun We. “For as long as she needs,” he called back, leaving her behind. I glanced up at him, my eyes curious as they traced over his scarred face. He looked tired.

As we walked, we entered corridors with glass walls, looking down at hordes of men...men that looked exactly like Jango. My heart leapt in my throat as I stopped, pulling from my rescuer to peer through the windows. One looked up from where he ate in the massive mess hall, a scowl on his face, but his deep brown eyes reflected Jango perfectly.

“The Kaminoans are cloners,” Jango explained gently, coming up behind me to look down. The clone saw his source product, giving him a respectful nod before returning to his meal. “They chose me because of my skills.”

I don’t think he expected me to respond. I hadn’t spoken since he took me from Death Watch. “Who would need so many bounty hunters?”

He chuckled. “They’re not bounty hunters. They’re soldiers.” He could sense my confusion. “They’re going to be the army for the Grand Republic. Ordered by a jetii, of all people.”

My nose crinkled. “I thought Mandalorians hated the jedi.”

“We do. But money is money. And this job offered me something I couldn’t receive otherwise.”

I opened my mouth to ask, but was interrupted.

“Daddy?” The tiny voice made my head turn, Jango’s presence immediately blooming with joy...and love. A little boy, his legs stubby and body round with baby fat, stood at the end of the hall. His brown hair flopped over his forehead as his mouth opened in a happy squeal. “Daddy!” He raced down the hall on his awkward legs, making it only halfway before Jango met him and swept him up in a hug.

They coddled for a moment as the boy giggled before Jango turned back to me. I looked over the child before glancing back to the mess hall. There were younger boys there too, some looking strikingly like the boy before me.

“They gave you him?” I asked, not looking at the bounty hunter.

He turned to me, the child sitting in his arms easily. “This is my son, Boba.”

I swallowed. “A clone?”

Jango frowned slightly, but Boba didn’t seem to be paying any attention, squirming in his arms. The bounty hunter set him down, the child hurrying over to stand in front of me. “Yes. But with no growth accelerants, training, or obedience alterations. He’s a normal boy.”

“Obedience alterations?” I asked, looking down at the boy as he flexed his fingers at me, trying to get me to lean down.

“As I’m sure you can tell, I’m an independent man who questions authority. They can’t have that in an army.”

My heart clenched. They were basically slaves...these clones. Being created and bought to fight a war for someone more powerful than them. But then again, were all soldiers like that? Finally, I kneeled down, becoming more eye-level with the little boy.

“Hi Boba,” I offered. He wrung his pudgy fingers before breaking out in a smile. It was pure, his eyes crinkling. Surprisingly, I smiled back, letting him play with my hand curiously. He turned my arm, seeing the brand.

“What’s that?”

I pulled my hand away. “Just a scar,” I offered, seeing Jango step forward as if to stop his son. I looked between the two, feeling the genuine love. Maybe Jango was like the old Mandalorians I’d heard about. Where they valued a sanctity of marriage...respected a woman. I looked back to Boba, seeing his curious gaze. “My name’s Kida. It’s nice to meet you.”

I didn’t have to look up to feel Jango’s smile.

#fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #jaig eyes #rex x oc #captain rex

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fandomverseofanthony · 5 years

Text

The Last Goodbye

Song that goes with the scene, specific moments timestamped as you read

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XClvMMxBg1k

The red behemoth’s knees buckled, no longer able to support the weight of his body and heavy metallic armor. As Ludok crashed to the floor, a heavy sigh of relief escaped Ruin’s lips. The fight was finally over. It was the first time in recent memory that a conflict had taken so much out of him, but then again, he was used to fighting guys with fishbowls on their head, or animal-themed costumes, not intergalactic alien bounty hunters. Looking around, the damage to the streets and buildings around him were minimal, no casualties in sight. With the immediate threat resolved, his attention turned back to Clemency, moving as quickly as his body would allow, to check on her.

Thankfully, the Parker Industries prototype armor had done its job, keeping Clemency safe. The suit itself, however, looked as if it had seen better days, patches where green and white paint should be were scrapped off. Helping her back to her feet, Ruin pulled Clemency close, embracing her as if it was the very first time. Fate had kept them apart for far too long, but was exactly what brought them back together again.

Before Ludok’s siege, Ruin insisted that Clemency flee the area, but she refused to leave his side. If anything would have happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself. He couldn’t imagine a life without her, especially after all they both had been through. The mere thought of it had him on the verge of tears.

Clemency removed her helmet, brushing strands of wavy black hair from her face. She pressed herself against Ruin’s chest, the black symbiote skin warm to the touch, soothing even. She closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat, as it slowly reverted to a normal pace. A single finger slipped beneath her olive chin, gently raising her sight to match his, as the symbiote retreated from his head, revealing Aiden’s face. Not a word was uttered between the two, yet their gaze spoke volumes. Ruin leaned in, passionately pressing his lips against hers, surprising Clemency at first. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she combed her hands through his messy dirty-blonde hair, while returning the gesture, lost in the kiss.

CLICK

Ludok dropped what looked like a detonator, wincing as he managed to laugh at the two, barely able to muster up enough strength to keep his head up. “You really thought you were going to walk away from this the victor? This world is infected with your… your sickness! You symbiotes will continue to spread until your kind has consumed everything, only to move on to the next unsuspecting planet, and so on, and so on, until nothing remains but ash! It ends here! There are enough charges primed on my ship to cleanse this place, once and for a-“

Ruin’s fist connected square with Ludok’s jaw, knocking him out cold. The alien’s monologue was tiring, and a waste of now precious time. Aiden and the Ruin symbiote’s minds both raced in unison, frantically searching for a solution to such a dire situation. He looked back to Clemency with a weak smile.

(Song starts to play, from 0:00)

“No… No, I know that face. You’re planning on doing something very stupid… There has to be another way. There has t-“ Clemency pleaded, only to be cut off by another one of Aiden’s kisses. This time, however, she could feel the sadness behind it.

Pulling away, Aiden interjected, “We have to do this. It has to be us. You’re too important to your people, and us, well… Everyone still thinks we are a menace. At least we can do right by the world.” He squeezed Clemency as tight as he could, as he continued, “Besides, death cannot stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while. One way or another, we’ll be together again, Gabriela…”

Aiden released Clemency and hustled towards the ship, grabbing Ludok and dragging him along. She tried to follow, tried to stop him one last time, only to realize that her arms and legs were bound to the floor. During Aiden’s speech, he had the symbiote’s organic webbing attach to her while she was off-guard. She struggled with all of her might, but it did not yield. She watched as the door to the spaceship sealed behind him.

(Song gets to 0:46 at this point)

As the ship rose from the ground and roared towards the heavens, tears cascaded down Clemency’s cheeks. She desperately pleaded to whatever god may be listening to intervene, voice becoming increasingly shaky. She still felt guilty for their last fight over the fate of the Inhumans and the X-men. The last thing that she wanted was for her most recent memory, her final memory, of Aiden to be of the event that drove them apart in the first place.

Aiden tightly gripped the flight controls, thankful that the symbiote was familiar with the spaceship and how to fly it. His mind wandered into the past. Growing up with Gabriela and their friends, the feeling of falling in love with her, their first kiss, the adventures they’ve shared as heroes, and everything in between. All he could do was smile as the ship rocketed out of the Earth’s atmosphere, and deeper into space. He could only assume that he would reach a safe distance in time.

Aiden whispered to himself, “I love you, Ga-“

(Song is at 1:38, what happens next occurs exactly when the lyrics “hit” is said)

BOOM

Clemency felt her heart shatter into a million pieces, the sight of the shockwave enveloping the twilight was too much to bear. She violently struggled against the webbing, finally able to tear herself away from it, reaching towards the sky in vain. Sobbing uncontrollably, her pained screams echoed through the city.

At the same time Marcus, Mai, and Peter Parker’s attention were all drawn towards the sound of the explosion, from each corner of the city they were in, along with those around them. None of them were aware of the sacrifice their friend had just made, nor the anguish Clemency was experiencing. They had lost not one friend, but two, in that instant.

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fanficwriter013 · 6 years

Text

The Ties That Bind (Part 10 / 11)

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Summary: Clint makes it his mission to win you over. He succeeds, but you don’t believe in marriage. Can the two of you stay together without the promise of wedding bells in the future? What about when the two of you are forced to go undercover as a married couple?

Word Count: 2092

Warnings: Civil War spoilers, sarcasm, it gets real dark and real angsty.

Author’s Note: One more part y’all.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 /

Your phone made a squawking noise, and you answered it without looking at the screen. “Yeah, Steve. We’re already on it. No, you don’t. You didn’t have to ask, it’s alright.” You say, cutting Steve off several times. You finish mixing the chemicals in front of you and take off in the direction of the compound. There’s a loud explosion behind you.

“What was that?” Steve asks you, clearly worried. “My cue, I have to go.” You tell him quickly, shoving your phone into a pocket in your suit. You drop down into one of the secret tunnels into the compound and make your way to Pietro’s room. It takes you seconds to lockpick the door, and you turn the handle.

“Pietro, kiddo. I’m so sorry.” You say as you walk into his room. He picks his head up off the bed, looking at you for a moment before he is in front of you hugging you tightly.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N). You couldn’t have possibly predicted this when you left for a life of normalcy.” He says as you rub his back.

“Are you doing alright, otherwise?” You ask, and he gives you a subtle nod. “Then let’s go get your sister.” You tell him, and his answer is to pick you up and run you to the common living area. It’s not a feeling you're sure you could ever get used to.

The two of you make it into the room in time to see Clint slipping from Vision’s grasp and falling to the floor. You’re at his side in an instant, your hand on the small of his back as he looks up at Wanda, as she causes Vision to fall to his knees. She stands over top of him and then he’s falling through the floor and several of the floors below it.

“Hey, kiddo.” You say, giving Wanda a hug. Clint nods at Pietro. “Come on, we’ve got another stop to make.” He says.

You’d had to stop to pick up one Scott Lang, the actual embodiment of a puppy. He and Pietro sat and talked a thousand miles a minute, from the time you picked up the man. Clint had taken out his hearing aides after twenty minutes, and you wished that you could turn off your ears. But you were driving and that would have been a hazard.

Steve had asked you to meet him in an isolated parking garage, and you’d been sitting and waiting for a good twenty minutes before a teeny little beetle pulled up. To say that it was a bit like watching clowns spill out of a car at the circus would have been making it an understatement.

“So, that’s the beefcake boyfriend Steve was hung up on. No wonder why he wanted to find him.” You signed to Clint, and he chuckled. What you weren’t expecting was for the flesh and metal hands to start signing back to you.

“I prefer Bucky, thank you.” He signs finger spelling out Bucky. He holds out his flesh hand to you. You give him a sheepish smile and shook it.

“Sorry, should have known better. Been out of the game for a minute. Made me a little rusty.” You say, and Bucky shakes his head. Clint pulls open the door to the van, and Scott tumbles out still talking a mile a minute.

“What time zone is this?” He asks, giving you a look. You glance around for a moment. “I’d wager a bet that this is about the UTC time zone, so it’s GMT +1.” He looks from you around the people and pales as he sees Steve. He has an awkward fanboy moment, and you talk for a moment before an alarm goes off.

“Suit up,” Steve says, quickly going over a plan A and B for what’s about to happen. Basically outlining, that he’s going to draw out Tony and whoever else he roped into his side.

It started with Tony shooting the helicopter with an EMP of some kind. You’d been preparing for that inevitability, as the Iron Man suit swooped down with War Machine close behind him. Then the Black Panther jumped in over the helicopter. Stark’s team was just coming out of the woodwork, as Natasha joined in. For the moment, they were just trying to talk sense. But you could see the expression in Tony’s eyes from where you were waiting.

“Underoos,” Tony calls out, and there’s a red and blue blur that you hadn’t been expecting. From your intel, the Spiderkid was just that. A kid, a fifteen-year-old who had no business being here in the middle of this mess. Tony just kept getting more worked up, and if you ever got the chance to talk to him again. You were going to beat some sense into him. It seemed the only thing working on your side was the numbers.

Steve and Pietro went after the Black Panther, Cap throwing his shield. Pietro running past him and knocking him off balance. War Machine tried to take them over, and you lost track of them as you went to help Scott with Nat.

“Thought you were retired.” She says as she lands a kick to your ribs. You shrug as you sweep her feet out from under her. “We got tired of playing golf. You know how it is.” You say, as Pietro runs past and takes you with him.

You’ve all gathered back up to try and get to the quinjet when Vision makes his big entrance. Searing a literal line in the asphalt in front of the eight of you. It’s a general mess. There’s fighting everywhere, several times you lose track of Clint. Sometimes you wind up with him, fighting almost back to back. It’s clear that most of you will be caught, but you need to be able to get someone. Steve, and Bucky at the very least to take down this bigger threat.

Scott winds up reversing the tech on his suit and sizing up instead of down. You try your best to help out where needed, but you’re struggling. The fight is only getting worse, ramping up. Spiderling, Iron Man and War Machine are able to knock down Scott. Who knocks down, and out the Spiderkid. It’s looking better for your side, and the quinjet is taking off. But the fight isn’t over yet.

You’re forced to watch as Vision aims for Sam’s wings, and hits War Machine instead. He plummets, and you can hear through the comms the chaos going on. You quickly pull your phone, using it to tap into Tony’s helmet, just before War Machine hits the ground.

“Don’t touch him, Tony. I know you want to but listen to me. Don’t do it.” You plead, and Tony touches down seconds after him. “Remember what I went through. Don’t move him.” You say as Pietro runs you over to them. You hear Tony asking FRIDAY for his vitals, as Sam touches down with you. Tony is on his feet in an instant, aiming his repulsors as Sam, before turning them on you. Neither shot lands because of Pietro.

“Hey, the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask him, stomping over in front of him. “Did you forget that I shattered my L1 in Sokovia. These things happen in our line of work. It was an accident, and Sam tried to catch him, the same as you. Don’t take your fear out on us. Call Dr. Cho.” You say the last part to Vision, who’s now landed with the rest of your group.

You knew that you were in trouble, but you hadn’t been expecting to get the Ritz treatment of villains. They’d separated you from Clint and had taken his hearing aides so you couldn’t even talk to him. They had also made it abundantly clear that you were pretty much confined to your bed. When you had woken up in a straight jacket, with your legs tied down. You weren’t able to see much of anything except for the incredibly boring gray ceiling of your cell.

“You had a life outside of this Barton, with (Y/N). Why didn’t you think of that before you chose the wrong side?” Tony spits, and you let out a harsh laugh.

“Yeah, (Y/N) who they won’t let walk now. Threatened several times to take out the artificial L1 vertebra. Said it was government property, and criminals don’t get those kinda resources. You ever think about that Tony.” Clint hisses, saving you from having to do any talking yourself. They hadn’t removed it, but they certainly wanted to. You were the bottom of the barrel now, scum that didn’t deserve the multi-million dollar piece of equipment keeping your spine intact.

“Clint. It’s alright. He’s not worth it.” You say even though you know he can't hear you, as you hear footfalls making their way over to where you think your cell is positioned. “How’s Rhodey doing?” You ask, as there’s a buzzing noise, and then some scraping. The bed dips by one of your legs and Tony leans into your field of view.

“They’re moving him to Columbia Medical tomorrow.” He says before he leans down. “I’m going to try and talk them down from this. It seems a little over the top. Dr. Cho said that his injuries are more severe than your’s were.” He whispers into your ear.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I know what it feels like.” You tell him, and he moves his hands in a deliberate fashion. Showing you that he’s messing with their surveillance footage. Then he shows you a picture of a body in a bathtub.

“That’s the real doctor, and let me say this. I was wrong. Tell me where he is.” Tony says, and you shake your head, as you hear a snort.

“Go to Hell, Stark. That’s where you’ll find him.” Pietro growls, and Tony clicks around on his watch again. This time shutting down the surveillance altogether. He unhooks your feet, and you circle them. Trying not to show any emotions.

“Go as a friend, or not at all.” You say, bending your knees and sitting up, now that he’s unstrapped your jacket from the bed as well. “Go ahead Sam, tell him.” You say as you take some time to stretch our your limbs. You know that he’ll have to strap you back down before he leaves, and you need to savor this while it lasts.

“I’m really sorry about this. But you know, when the system kicks back in.” Tony says, and you nod lying back down as he straps you back in. Sam tells Tony where to find them, and that’s the end of the visit.

Nothing happens, you’re still in restraints that are overkill for the fact that you’re just a mere mortal. They still have to feed you and make you feel like you’re just a blob of a human being. You can feel that darkness from before start to creep back in, you start to sleep more. There’s nothing that you can do when you’re physically unable to move. The waking world, the gray ceiling, too harsh for you.

“It’s time to get up now. I’m getting you guys out of here.” It’s Steve’s voice, but he sounds different. Tired almost. There’s another beat before a clattering noise. Then you see Clint’s face over yours, as he works with a desperate need to get you out of your restraints. The second you’re free, you throw yourself into his arms. Burying your face in his neck.

“Come on guys, we gotta get out of here,” Steve says, as Clint helps you to your feet.

“Where are we going to go, Cap?” You ask, as you survey the twins, Scott, and Sam. “Because, I need to say something that’s going to sound stupid. And you’re not allowed to judge me because you speak fluent idiot. I need to go speak with Tony.” You both say and sign, although your signing is slower than it used to be. Because your hands aren’t used to moving anymore.

“T’Challa has granted us sanctuary on Wakanda. We’ll drop you outside the compound on the way there. Then circle back to get you at a rendezvous point. Play this smart, (Y/N).” Steve says, his voice in full Captain America mode.

“Don’t worry, Cap. If this goes the way I want it too, we won’t need Wakanda.” You tell him, and Steve gives you one of the Captain’s curt nods.

#marvel #avengers #fanfic #fanfiction #reader x clint barton #clint barton x reader #clint x reader #reader x clint #clint barton #hawkeye #reader x hawkeye #hawkeye x reader

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filmfanatic82 · 7 years

Text

The Long Game - Chapter 6: No One Else

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 6: No One Else

“Ow! C’mon, T. I already said I was sorry,” Zack’s voice echoes in the nearby distance, cutting through the silence of the Ely precinct parking lot.

Kim perks up at the sound, pulling herself up off of the ground and dusts off the back of her jeans. She spots Zack and Trini making their way out the front door of the precinct. Zack sports a few noticeable bruises and walks with a slight limp to his left leg. He’s not in the best of shape to say the least, but at least seems to be moving which is a plus.

“Tu idiota de mierda!” Trini slaps Zack in the arm with each and every word she fires off, unable to control her overwhelm sense of anger at him and the situation. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

“But I didn’t.” Zack flashes Trini a cheesy grin, which only infuriates her even further.

“Not the point. Illegal fight club, Zack. Do you know how insanely lucky you are? You’re ass could’ve been heading for lock up right now if it weren’t for…” Trini trails off as she struggles with how to even finish her sentence. Her eyes wander upwards, across the parking lot and lock in on Kim.

Zack suddenly stops walking as he picks up on Trini’s hesitation. His eyes follow her gaze and then--

“Holy fuckin’ fuckballs!” Zack blurts out as his jaw falls open in complete and utter shock.

“Hey,” Kim quietly responds with a subtle wave of her hand, but makes no attempt to move any closer. She knows better. There’s just no predicting what the lengthy, man-child’s reaction is going to be. And, unlike with Trini, Kim can’t guarantee that she’ll be able to restrain herself if Zack throws a punch or two.

Zack remains frozen in his tracks, unable to do much of anything except stare at Kim. He blinks a few times, still completely slacked jawed, as if not fully believing the sight before his eyes.

“Snap out of it,” Trini commands Zack, giving him a jab in the side.

“What the actual fuck?” Zack fires back with an unusual seriousness to his voice, finally breaking out of his trance. He searches Trini’s face for some sort of explanation, but comes up short. Trini’s stoic “I don’t do emotion” mask is firmly in place. “Trini?”

“Not now.”

“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?”

“Not now, Taylor.”

Trini starts to head towards Kim, but Zack grabs hold of her arm, spinning her around to come face to face with him. “Trinity Marie Gomez. What...the...fuck?”

“Zack, I can--”

“Shut up.” Zack snaps in Kim’s direction with a menacing growl.

“She’s the reason you’re standing out here.” Trini wrenches her arm out of Zack’s grip and then gives him a two-handed shove in the chest for good measure. “So calm the fuck down.”

Not even waiting for Zack’s response, Trini continues on down the front steps of the precinct and straight towards Kim. “What’s the plan now, Hart? We can’t all fit on that thing.”

Kim runs her hands through her hair, trying to shake off the underlying tension of the moment. “I already went ahead and ordered you two an uber. It should be here in ten. There’s a decent hotel roughly 20 minutes away from here. Figured you guys could use a hot shower and freshen up before we hit the road again. The reservation is under Hart.”

“What about you?”

“Need to run an errand first.”

“Kim…”

“I’ll be right behind you guys. Promise.” Kim says with a bit of a reassuring smile.

Trini gives a small nod in confirmation and then quickly glances back at Zack, who’s still stationed on the front steps of the precinct, staring down Kim with a harsh venomous hatred.

“So I’m taking it, he’s not a fan of mine?” Kim lets out a light, breathy laugh as she ever so slightly shifts from foot to foot.

Kim’s relationship with Zack had never been the closest of ones. Yes, at one point in time, they had been like family to one another. An irksome yet lovable brother who knew just how to push all of her buttons at the worst possible times. Someone who was supposed to love her unconditionally. No questions asked.

But then Kim went ahead and committed the one, unforgivable offense in the book of Zack… She shattered Trini’s heart into a million pieces.

“Do you bame him?”

Kim shakes her head no, unwilling to open her mouth in fear that if she does, she won’t be able to stop the apologetic truth from flowing out.

A momentary silence falls between the two of them, as they each chose to stare off into the night’s sky, then--

“I’ll deal with Zack,” Trini huffs out with a heavy exhale of breath. “Just be safe, okay?”

“I will.”

And, with that, Kim grabs her helmet out of the side saddle bag and mounts the bike, pausing the briefest of moments to simply watch as Trini walks back over towards Zack. Her hand unconsciously reaches up and touches the outline of the necklace buried beneath the confines of her t-shirt. “Promise.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Mierda!” Trini’s hips jut upwards in a primal desire for more friction, as her breath rapidly quickens. Her hands frantically gropes around, desperate for something -- anything -- to hold on to. She’s racing towards the edge at a breakneck speed. “Fóllame, Princessa. Fóllame.”

Trini’s words tap into something, deep down within Kimberly’s core, instantly sparking an almost uncontrollable fire. Flames shoot up, licking every inch of her skin as a surge of pure adrenalin rushes through her veins.

There a need… No. More like a hunger. An insatiable hunger that up until this very moment, Kimberly has never felt before. It claws its way upwards, infiltrating her thoughts until nothing else seems to exists. Kimberly needs to go harder. She needs to feel it all.

Kimberly plunges a third finger into Trini, as her lips wrap themselves around Trini’s clit. She momentarily forgets to breathe, as all of her senses are on complete and utter overdrive.

God, how she never wants to stop fucking Trini.

“Ay, Dio… Princessa--” Trini screams out as she plummets over the edge in a blaze of pure, undiluted ecstasy. Her body tenses under Kimberly, limbs uncontrollably spasming.

But Kimberly doesn’t let up. She can’t.

Kimberly continues worshiping every inch of Trini’s body, keeping up the ferocious intensity. She craves more. More of everything that Trini has to offer.

Trini’s body squirms beneath her in a fine mixture of pleasure mixed with pain as she quickly reaches another peak. Her hands grabs hold of the headboard behind her and instantaneously sounds of wood splintering fills the bedroom.

“Kimberly, I… I…”

“Just a little more, baby.” Kimberly moans into Trini as she feels herself begin to teeter on the edge as well. She increases her pace even more, to almost an animalistic level. It’s rough. Beyond rough. But she needs to feed the hunger.

And just when Kimberly feels like she has nothing more to give--

“Mierda!”

Trini grabs onto Kimberly, digging her nails into the flesh of her lower back, as they tumble over the edge together.

Kimberly tries to hold on, but it’s no use. Black dots pepper her vision… Followed by a flood of green. Emerald green.

“Princess?”

It’s gone.

Kimberly slowly removes her hands from Trini and then carefully makes her way up, curling herself into the tiny latina’s open arms. She plants a tender kiss on Trini’s cheek. “That was--”

“Fuckin’ intense,” Trini finishes her thought with a hint of a smirk. She gently pushes a stray, sweaty lock off of Kimberly’s forehead, letting her fingers dance along the contour of her face.

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t know--”

“Hey. Stop.” Trini pushes herself up a bit to come face to face with Kimberly. “You’ve got nuthin’ to apologize for, Princess. Absolutely, nuthin’, okay?”

Kim nods and can’t help but match Trini’s smile. She nuzzles her head even further into the crux of Trini’s neck and lets out a deep, content sigh of relief. “I love you.”

“Ditto, Princess.”

“No. I mean it like I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone else.”

“You sure about that? Forever’s a long time,” Trini playfully quips as she wraps her arms tighten around Kim’s body, almost as if to confirm that this moment is real.

“Without a doubt.”

“Careful. That’s almost starting to sound like a proposal.”

Kimberly lightly laughs to herself, then--

“Oh, you’ll know when I’m proposing, Gomez.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.” Kimberly pops the “p” for added effect and then, in a surprise move, rolls herself on top of Trini, pinning the smaller girl down to the bed. “Round two? Or are you too tired?”

Trini counters Kimberly’s move and flips them over, topping Kimberly in the process. A devilish smirk crawls across her lips as she leans in and gives Kimberly a teasing nip right on her pulse point. “Never.”

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

A few hours and a couple of well placed phone calls later, and Kim finds herself wandering down a hallway of the top floor of a random hotel towards the penthouse suite. She’s not sure the exact name of the place. From the intricate patterns on the carpet, Kim guesses that it might be a Starwood, but beyond that, no clue. Not like it even matters. Just another temporary stop along the way.

As Kim gets closer to the penthouse door, though, she slows down at the sound of Trini and Zack talking. Although slightly muffled from the wall, she can hear every word.

“Quit freaking out,” Trini huffs out with a level of familiar annoyance that she only saves for those closest to her. “It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? What are you smokin’? You just rolled up here with Kim like you two are bffs again or something. Don’t you remember what happened last time we saw her? She almost killed you, T.”

These words send a chill down Kim’s spine as flashes of unwanted past memories pop back into her mind. She takes a sobering deep breath and shuts her eyes for a moment, attempting to shake them away.

“Fuck, Zack. Of course I remember. I’ve still got the scars.”

“Than why the hell are you actin’ like everything’s all chill and shit? She’s evil.”

“She’s not evil, Zack.”

“You’re tellin’ me she’s magically cured?”

“No, but...”

“But what, T?”

An unsettling silence falls upon the hallway. Kim runs her hands through her hair and lets out a much needed sigh. She’s heard enough. At least for right now.

“Hey. It’s me,” Kim calls out as she knocks on the penthouse suite door.

There’s a brief sound of shuffling on the other side and then the door opens revealing a somewhat flustered looking Trini. A small but noticeable smile crawls across her lips at the sight of Kim.

“You came back,” Trini says as she lets Kim inside the suite, shutting the door behind her and locking every possible lock available.

“I said I would,” Kim responses, matching Trini’s smile. “You guys get a chance to clean up?”

“Yeah. Thanks. You really didn’t have to--”

“Where’d you go?” Zack interrupts Trini. He gets up from the nearby bed and makes his way over towards the two of them, strategically positioning himself slightly in front of Trini in a pseudo protective big brother move.

“Just had to take care of a few things.”

“Like?” Zack presses Kim with a skeptical stare.

“Like getting us new wheels.”

“You got rid of the motorcycle?” Trini asks with a hint of disappointment to her voice.

“Never. It’s stashed it away for the time being.”

“T, doesn’t your girlfriend drive a motorcycle? What was her name again? Laura? Lauren?” Zack pipes up, instantly snapping Trini’s attention away from Kim.

“Her name was Layla and we broke up over two years ago,” Trini responds through gritted teeth. She shoots Zack a death stare, knowing full well what he’s trying to do. “And yes, she drove a Harley.”

“Right. Layla. Cool chick. Too bad things didn’t work out with you two. What happened?”

But Trini doesn’t reply. She instead smacks Zack directing in the gut, causing the boy to instantly double over in pain.

“Ow… Hey. Remember, still recovering here.”

“Quit it.”

“What? Just askin’ a question, that’s all.” Zack straightens himself out a bit and glances over at Kim with a bit of a devilish smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

But Kim is too preoccupied with her own thoughts to even really notice the exchange.

Girlfriend. The singular word slices through her with a surgical like precision. Of course Trini had had a girlfriend. Or maybe even girlfriends. Why wouldn’t she? It has been eight years. It’s crazy to assume that Trini wouldn’t have attempted to move on by now.

Kim takes a moment to force back down the lump of emotions residing in her throat and then--

“We should get going. It’s a good five hours to Angel Grove,” Kim asks as she readjusts her leather jacket and fishes out a set of car keys from her jeans pocket. “You ready?”

Both Zack and Trini give a nod in response.

“Good. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

And with that, Kim takes off back out of the penthouse, not wanting to be in that room for single second longer.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Can I ask you a question?” Trini’s voice suddenly cuts through the silence of the car.

They’ve been driving for roughly over two hours, without a single word between the three of them. Granted, Zack had passed out in the backseat shortly after they pulled out of the hotel parking lot, but even still there’s been nothing but deafening silence.

It’s not like Kim hasn’t wanted to say something. God, there’s so much she wants to say… but she simply doesn’t know where to start. So instead, Kim’s just been focusing in on the endless stretch of road in front of them while trying to keep her complete and utter exhaustion at bay.

“You can ask me anything,” Kim quietly responds without missing a beat.

Although still looking at the road, Kim can feel Trini shift her body a bit in the passenger's seat, readjust herself to face Kim.

“Back at the police station. What was that? Mind control?”

“No. It’s more like ESP. Or at least what I think ESP would be like.”

“So you can read minds?”

“Sometimes. Yeah.”

Another silence falls between the two of them as Trini chews on her bottom lip, deep in thought. There’s a hesitation there. Kim doesn’t have to read her mind to sense it. A deep seeded fear of what truths the next question could bring.

“Have you ever--”

“No. Never with you or any of the others,” Kim replies cutting Trini off. She knows that she could dive into more details and try to explain how she didn’t even fully discover this strange skill until well after leaving Angel Grove, but it wouldn’t matter. It’s simply not the right time for an unwanted walk down memory lane. Maybe someday, once they’ve made it through what’s to come, but not today. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Trini quickly counters, seemingly a bit still distracted by Kim’s answers.

“Layla. She’s the one that taught you to ride?”

Once again silence. The kind that causes Kim’s skin to crawl with instant regret. She knows she shouldn’t have done that. It’s not her place anymore to know every last detail, let alone to freely ask. But her impulsive nature is just too hard to control. Especially when there are emotions in the mix.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have--”

“It’s okay,” Trini exhales with a deep breath of air. “Yeah. She was a die hard Harley enthusiast and pretty much strong armed me into learning.”

“Not a bad skill to have.”

“I can think of a few better ones, but I guess so.” Trini pauses for a brief moment, tucking a few loose strands of her hair behind her ears. “How about you? Pick up any random skills from your exes that I should know?”

“No.”

“No as in no skills or--”

“No exes,” Kim quietly replies in nothing more than a whisper.

“No one?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a one night stand?”

Kim shakes her head and then digs into the collar of her shirt and pulls out the sabertooth tiger necklace.

Trini’s eyes grow wide in stunned disbelief. She ever so carefully reaches over and lets her fingers ghost over the small, yellow pendant, almost too afraid to actually touch it. “I thought I… How?”

“Went back for it. Before I left. Needed something to remind me…” Kim trails off, unable to finish her sentence. She takes a moment to steady her herself and then--

“I meant what I said that day at the lake. Every single word of it. There’ll never be anyone else. At least not for me.”

As Kim finishes her last words, she feels Trini’s hand come to rest against her thigh, giving a small and gentle squeeze. It isn’t much, but it speaks volumes.

Yet another silence falls between Kim and Trini. But unlike the last two, this one is laced with a strange comfort, as if Kim’s revelation has somehow repaired an unspoken long lost connection. One that they both so desperately yearn for.

Kim redirects her attention once again back to the open road as a small smile stretches across her lips.

Maybe… Just maybe there’s hope for them after all.

#trimberly #trini #trini x kimberly #kimberly hart #zack taylor #power rangers #power ranger 2017 #ao3 #fanfic #power ranger movie

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jsmulligan · 6 years

Text

Epilogue

Like a lot of other people, I was disappointed with no Festival of the Lost this year. Didn’t think about posting anything about it before, though. The only thing Festival related I’ve written is the epilogue to “A Not So Simple Patrol”.

Needless to say, spoilers for that story if anyone was reading it over at fanfiction (and I’ll probably open an account at AO3 and start posting it over there as well).

Epilogue

So often the years seem go to by quickly, so much more-so lately than they did when I was younger. There was so much happening in the first half of this particular year that it passed in a blink, but then everything changed. I was changed. And everything slowed to a crawl. These last several months have been a grueling slog of rehabilitation and adaptation.

First, I lost my leg. I have mostly grown accustomed to the cybernetic prosthetic that was built for me, but I swear the thing is a fraction of a centimeter shorter than my original leg was. The doctors insist that it was built to specifications taken from scans Elgan had made of me, but I feel lopsided and it annoys me.

Second, Zillah left. I only met her during the craziness of earlier this year, but her absence now was noticeable. She had left with Lady Efrideet to somewhere on the outer reaches of the solar system. The Iron Banner had come and gone a couple times since then, but she had yet to return. She hasn't requested to have her possessions sent to her or have her room at the Tower reassigned, so I keep holding out hope. Another Iron Banner is scheduled to begin tomorrow. Something to look forward to, perhaps.

Third, there seems to be a reluctance to let me back out in the field. I was kept close while I adjusted to my new leg, but I have gotten to the point that I am confident enough in its function to get back to business. However, it seems that someone finds my presence around the Tower beneficial for new Guardians and I have fallen into a mentoring role with the freshly revived Titans. Honestly, I enjoy it, it's just another change to get used to. Also, whoever came up with the “Tower Dad” moniker needs to make themselves known so that they can get a swift and well-deserved punch in the face.

Regardless of how fast or slow they feel, the days tick by as they always have, bringing with them the usual customs and celebrations. This day, in particular, marks the beginning of the Festival of the Lost. The Festival is a City tradition that spread to the Tower, a time of remembering those that have passed on. It's a weird mix of somber and fun that always seems to somehow brighten spirits.

I rolled to the edge of the bed and reached down, picking up my leg and attaching it. I flexed it a couple times to get all the connections in place, then stood to my feet. After that, it was slipping on the undersuit and putting on my armor. Fitting for the day, Elgan has set out an old Pacorus armor set, armor that had been dedicated to lamenting the dead, bearing my customary green and gold paint job. It was outdated armor, wearing it now would mostly be ceremonial. Complimenting it was the Mark of the Lost. Dressed for the day, I picked up the wrapped item from my nightstand, tucked it in my belt, and scooped up a bag full of candy before stepping out into the hallway.

I might not have been in my usual gear, but the colors and wolf emblem emblazoned on the shoulder made me recognizable enough to other people that I received several warm greetings on my way topside. Once I reached the plaza, a scene of delightful chaos greeted me as Guardians and civilians alike dashed around the space wearing elaborate masks representing everything from a simple engram, to wild animals, to Oryx the Taken King himself. A Hunter dressed in a particularly ridiculous representation of everyone's favorite Cryptarch jumped from where he had been hiding.

“Feed me the blood of your enemies!” he roared. “A million deaths are not enough for Master Rahool! I demand a tribute of engrams!”

Before I could even being to attempt to respond, he sprinted away cackling and howling. This caught the attention of the real Rahool, who looked none too pleased at the impersonation. His clear annoyance made me grin inside my helmet.

I made it through the plaza without being the victim of any more pranks or scare tactics, though I was a witness to many masked characters jumping out at people passing by or Guardians in Traveler masks leaping off the Tower. Entering the hallway, I couldn't help but admire the decorations and lighting likely put up by Eva Levante. She usually considered herself to be a “master of ceremonies” for these types of events, encouraging participation and handing out gifts and treats. Sure enough, as I passed her work stations, I saw a sizable group gathered near her. I continued on, my destination just a bit further.

Opposite the Speaker's chamber was a large, circular door. This door remained closed much of the year, but rolled opened for the Festival. Inside was the Memorial to the Lost, an intricately carved chunk of black stone where the names of lost Guardians were carved. The walls or the room also bore decoration, holding relics from, or carved images of, legendary figures in the history of the City and the Tower that stood over it. I stepped up to the memorial, finding all the familiar names.

Donvan, the leader of my first fireteam. Sarai and Baruch, two other members of that old team. I searched for other Guardians I had served with as well, recalling faces and moments shared. Elgan appeared over my shoulder, quietly observing the ritual. Eventually, I reached for the object at my waist, the final thing I needed to do here today.

I carefully unwrapped the cloth from around the object, revealing a Hunter's knife. This particular knife had been held to my own throat at one point in the recent past. Elgan's shell clicked in a manner I recognized as confusion.

“Why do you have that?” he asked. “I assumed you had disposed of it.”

“No, I never had any intention of doing that. I had actually planned to return it to its owner blade first, but didn't have it when he made his unexpected return. I wasn't sure what to do with it after that, but then I knew there was only one choice”

I knelt down by the memorial then, spreading the cloth on the ground by the base. Holding the knife flat across my open palms, I set it down gently on the cloth.

“I don't understand,” the Ghost chimed in. “He tried to kill you. You did kill him. He was a danger to everyone around him. Why are you honoring him like this?”

“It's more in honor of who he was,” I replied. “When we figured out who had attacked me, I had you find all the information you could on him. There wasn't a lot, but it did give me some notion of who we were dealing with. I've been going over all of it again ever since that day on Venus, trying to understand, to make sense of what happened, and what I found was a very different Guardian than the one that tried to kill me.

“Something happened to him. I don't think it was being corrupted by the Darkness. Lakshmi hinted at something in the hospital room, about him being exposed to whatever that War Cult Device is too many times. I think whatever it was broke him mentally. He lost part of himself, and then exposing himself to SIVA the way he did pushed away anything that was left of Jaeger. In the end, he was a shattered shell of what he had been. He deserved better. We all do.”

I stared at the knife for several moments before rising back to my feet.

“Light go with you, Jaeger-10. Hopefully you've found a measure of peace.”

I turned then, leaving the dead behind. Having honored them, it was now time to celebrate the fact that I had yet to rejoin them. The City below beckoned, and I had a bag full of candy demanding to be distributed. Making my way to an express elevator, I rode down to ground level.

As expected, the Last City was alive with activity which would only increase as the day went on. Most decorations had already been been put up over the last few weeks, but there were still a few people hanging banners and lights or setting out candles. A group of children ran by in masks, laughing and attempting to scare the people they passed. It looked so much like the activity on the upper plaza that I wondered if it was just universal behavior or said something about the maturity of most Guardians.

I removed my helmet, tucking it under my arm and just watched the scene. Compared to the Golden Age, or whatever came before that, I'm sure this would be a sad display. Right now, in this place, this little bit of happiness and peace was enough. This right here is what Commander Zavala means when he talks about, “The Dream of the City.” It still wasn't the most comfortable setting for me, but maybe one day we would push back the forces of Darkness enough that the idea of living life this way wouldn't seem so foreign. For now, it was enough to be around it and maybe make their lives a little better.

Another group of children ran by me. This time, one of them stopped. A little girl with brown hair and eyes that matched. I recognized her instantly as the girl who had been in the pack of children following me and Scott-20 when we came looking for Zillah. I knelt and held out a hand. She smiled and darted over to me, slapping the extended hand as she had before. I took two pieces of candy out of the bag I was carrying and she eyed them greedily. I pretended to consider it for a moment, then closed my fingers around those two, placed the rest of the bag inside the old Pacorus helmet, and held it out to her.

“Take it,” I told her. “Share it with your friends. You'll need it to keep all the spooks away tonight. If the candy doesn't turn them away, just wear the helmet and that should do the trick.”

Her eyes grew wide and she grabbed the bag before offering a simple, “Thank you.”

She turned and fled after her friends, waving the bag over her head and shouting. Watching her go, I turned and headed in the opposite direction. With no real direction in mind, I wandered the streets a for a few minutes, taking in the sites. My stomach reminded me that I hadn't had anything to eat yet, so I stopped in a little diner for some eggs and bacon.

After eating, I spent a few more minutes in the City, then headed back topside with the two remaining candies in hand. The City might not be the life for me, but there was a small measure of “normal” that I could actually hold on to. I strode purposefully through the living quarters and found the door I was looking for. I knocked and Celeste answered. Behind her, I could see the smaller figure of Astrid, the mini-Titan that Cayde had suggested Celeste try to help mentor. I smiled and held up the two pieces of candy.

“Happy Festival of the Lost, you two.”

#Festival of the Lost #Destiny the game #A Not So Simple Patrol #Claney #Celeste #OCs

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kohimiruku · 7 years

Text

Kizuna: Genji Shimada X Reader

Soulmate AU where soulmates can feel each others’ pain.

Reader is female

TW (TRIGGER WARNING): Blood, slight gore, swearing

Ever since as a child, you felt the pain.

It started with some short, quick jabs to your sides and arms. Your parents would say that your soulmate is a fighter (that’s a good thing or a bad thing is up to you). It felt like the usual discipline from your parents but even that couldn’t yield to the pain your soulmate is receiving.

When you were learning at high school, the pain only grew so much worse.

It was utter torture. It was like your soulmate was trying to make your life a living hell. At some hours of the day you felt nothing, but at night, it was indescribable. Some points you even felt pain inside you, which utterly humiliated you.

So when you got back from school, kicking your shoes off, you ran at the wall next to you repeatedly.

“This is-” You panted, taking a step back. “what you-” a grunt came out as you hit the wall. “get-” you were already seeing stars. “for. Messing. With. My life. You-” and as you collided with the wall for the umpteenth time, you collapsed.

“You fuck boy.”

A broken wall and bruises that you regretted later, you were sure your soulmate got your warning.

And you were right about your warning.

During your college years, you felt minimal pain. Well, besides some of the not safe for work pain. But nonetheless, it seemed your soulmate had gotten the message.

Still, you wondered: why was your soulmate a fuckboy? How did they develop this lifestyle? Did they not care about the soulmate system, better yet, their soulmate? It was a low-blow to your self-esteem. Still, even if they lived that kind of lifestyle, you wanted to know more about them. Sure, the topic of them having too many sexual partners will be awkward, but still... You wanted to know why they’re like this.

“Yo, (Name)! Get your head in the game!” Mariah told you.

You brought your senses back to the volleyball match. Your school had the first two sets while the opposing team had one. It was your turn to serve.

As you spun the ball between your hands, words of encouragement were voiced by your teammates. Tossing the ball into the air, you ran forward and jumped, retracting your dominant arm to spike.

Nobody warned you about the indescribable pain that seared throughout your entire body.

You dropped down on the floor, your wails reaching out across the gymnasium. The press, the crowd, and your teammates’ worried cries faded out of existence.

You woke up in a hospital bed. The generic white blinding you instantly.

Hearing the heartbeat monitor, you sat upright, groaning at the pain.

Wait.

You felt no pain.

You breathed in and out patting your body for anything wrong until a hand stopped you. Your eyes landed on your coach, who’s eyes were glossy.

“Easy there, champ. I’m here.” She comforted you, hand placed at your back. Letting out some last breaths, you had to ask the million dollar question,

“What happened at the match?”

She smiled sheepishly. “We won despite what happened. The girls were all worried about you.” You sighed at that.

“But-” She said, voice stern. “when you were about to spike, your soulmate somehow got into some deep territory and...” She trailed off, taking a handheld mirror from the bedside table. “In the price of that...”

You gasped in horror. The once (color) hair that you had was a pure white.

“Wh-what...?”

“Marie-Antoinette Syndrome, the doctor called it. Said that when a person was subjected to too much stress, this happens.” She gestured to your hair.

You set the mirror down, still having the trouble to believe all of this. “Then how come I...”

“Can’t feel pain? They said it was a side-effect. Something about the nervous system or something.”

And just like your self-esteem, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You no longer felt pain. How could you sense your soulmate?

After a few, hard years, you’ve finally convinced yourself that you don’t need a soulmate.

Your teammates were disheartened by the fact that you were quitting volleyball. You said it wasn’t a problem (it wasn’t a problem when they won Olympic gold for it without you. Nope. Not one bit). Volleyball just didn’t have the rush you felt before the incident.

And the doctor was right; you literally can’t feel pain. No matter how much you slammed your body against the wall, you felt nothing. The bruises that you’ve gotten were just ink ready to be washed out.

And then there’s the problem with your hair. The color just made passersby think that you’re an old woman using nanotech to make yourself look young. The assumptions hurt, but what can you do? It was whatever that your soulmate did, or whatever did to your soulmate was the cause of your misfortune.

Right now, you didn’t care when the mugger bunched your collar in his fist. You’ve earned a cut on your upper lip and your left temple; both bleeding profusely. Not like they mattered anyway. You didn’t even realized they were there in the first place.

“This chick ain’t worth jack, bro. Let’s just get out of here.” His companion, interluded, tapping the one choking you.

“The only ones truly worthless are you two,” You croaked out. “picking on a helpless woman out in the street. What do you gain from this besides a slight hint of guilt?”

He choked on his breath, drawing his free arm back. “You bitch...!”

You didn’t even close your eyes. It’s not like it would matter anyway and that was the cold, hard truth.

“What do you gain from this, I wonder?” A metallic, male voice rang out. Before you could look, the sound of metal ringing and soon your captor was lying lifeless on the ground in his own blood. What appeared to be ninja stars were lodged inside his throat.

“Oh shit-” The other one didn’t respond as fast. Flashes of green and more metal ringing was all that it took for him to fall lifelessly down on the pavement.

The man... Omnic... that saved you sheathed a small sword behind him. He was decked in armor, though it didn’t cover the brown-ish spots you were seeing. Green lights were on his chest, shoulders, and his helmet. Another, much longer sword was strapped to his back as a tattered, dark cloth was lazily thrown on his shoulder. Suddenly, three small tubes on each of his shoulder pads popped up and released steam.

“Are you... one of Efi’s?” You said before you could think it over.

He turned to you, the green of his visor shined the dim alleyway. “If you are referring to the child-genius... no. I am not.”

“Ah...” You breathed out. “Well, thank you, ninja. Have a nice night.”

Before you could leave, the ninja called out to you. “Wait! Oba-san-I mean-ma’am, it isn’t safe for you to go out alone. Let me at least accompany you.”

Your eyebrows twitched. You turned to the ninja, pupils dilated and nose flaring. “I’m 30, you jackass.” You barked, the ninja flinching at your response. “I’m like this ‘cause of my soulmate being fucked over or some shit.” Your expression relaxed as you looked down. “Haven’t gotten my life straight ever since.” You muttered the last one under your breath.

You didn’t even hear his footfalls as he stood close to you, a metal hand being placed on your shoulder. “I’m deeply sorry. For what I said and about your soulmate.”

You gently removed his hand but made no move to release it. “Don’t be, ninja boy. Whatever fucked up my soulmate... I hope they recover.”

He also made no move to remove his hand, instead staring (or at least you thought) through his helmet. “It’s Genji.”

“Pardon?”

“My name. It’s Genji.” He finished, taking to your side. “Now, where is your home?”

“It’s not the fanciest of places, but it’s still home.” You said wistfully, removing your coat and placing it on the coat rack. Genji, as a guest, only walked where you walked, ever being a well-mannered person.

“It’s simple. It looks lovely, (Name).” He spoke next to you as you searched your kitchen cabinets for a medical kit.

You closed the bottom cabinets. “Go lean against that counter, I’ll just be here.”

You didn’t hear his footsteps but you hoped he complied. Once seeing the kit, you stretched as tall as you could, your fingers grazing the box.

“I can help with-”

“No no. I got this.” You mustered out. Just when you finally got it, gravity was a bitch to you as the kit landed on your head.

The sound of Genji wincing in pain was the only thing audible to your ears. You obviously didn’t felt it but the fact that Genji sounded he was in pain only made your insides lurch.

“(Name)...” Genji trailed off. Forgetting the kit, you walked towards Genji, said ninja backing off until the small of his back hit the counter behind him.

“What...” You sighed, breath fanning on his mask. “happened to you, Genji?”

A matter of minutes past. The both of you never uttered a single word. You waited with bated breath, eager to know how Genji became this.

Finally, he sighed, which sounded weird from his mechanical voice. “As long as you tell me what happened to you.”

And thus started the long, detailed explanation of his past: he was a fuck boy as you knew it. He belonged to a yakuza group in Japan by the Shimada name. His older brother and he used to be close, real close. Then some shitty stuff happened and his own brother tried to murder him for the clan. At least that’s what you understood.

“(Name), by no means did I meant for that to happen. If only I knew about you sooner, I wouldn’t have crossed swords with my-”

“Shut-” You cut him off, placing a finger on where his mouth should be. “-your mouth and let me tell my side. It wasn’t pretty, you know. I’ve endured all the pain you went through, even the times when we were teenagers.”

His shoulders steamed stronger this time.

“And to your information, I was in an important volleyball match where my team could make or break to the Nationals but nope!” You backed off, dramatically raising your arms in the air. “Somebody had to go and get themselves killed, leaving me in a coma for I don’t know how long, and leaving me with this hair and the loss of feeling pain!”

Your voice started out strong, but now it was already strained and cracked. Tears started rolling down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’ve lost everything, even my motivation to continue anything.”

Another wave of silence washed through the both of you. Genji raised his hand, but decided against it.

“(Name)...” He started. “I truly am sorry for what happened to you. If I could go back and fix everything, I would but-” He stopped, looking elsewhere but you. “-it seems you no longer desire my presence. I... will take my leave.”

And just like that, he made his way to the front door. He didn’t even spare you a second glance.

You stretched out your arm to grab his. “Wait.”

He turned back to you but he didn’t respond verbally.

“I... still need time to get over what you did. In the meantime though... I could help with what burden you’re carrying.” You said finally.

Genji finally turned his whole body to face you, his hand slowly sliding off but you grabbed it. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yeah, well you’re stuck with me for the rest of our stupid lives.” You replied back, smirking slightly. “Besides, having a cyborg ninja as a soulmate sounds pretty awesome.”

His free hand latched onto yours and his joined ones. “Then we have much to discuss, (Name).”

#overwatch #xreader #genji shimada x reader #genji shimada #genji #soulmate au #when will i ever move on from genji #the answer is never

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