#even if they were worried about him lashing out again they had the whole village there in case something happened. he should've been

[rustedleopard]

So you guys remember how after Hinawa was announced as dead, Flint was immediately tossed into jail after he (very understandably) lashes out in his grief. And then by the time he breaks out of jail (not released by a fellow Tazmillian, breaks out with a nail file), the service is already over and she's buried six feet under the dirt with no proper goodbye from her husband or even a glimpse at her or anything???

That was fucked up

#mother 3 #sorry but the Tazmillians there did a massive massive blunder. like seriously wtf??? #flint didn't even get to see her. the last memory he has of her is from however many days before when she went to visit her father #they should've let him see her one last time! that was stupidly unfair. no matter what your opinion on flint is you should at least be #able to acknowledge that that was completely messed up #even if they were worried about him lashing out again they had the whole village there in case something happened. he should've been #allowed to see her. even if she was so horribly mangled from the drago that people felt it would be best to spare him the sight #that's not their decision to make. that's his WIFE. canonically acknowledged as the love of his life. he should've been allowed to see her #and make the decision to look for himself. #i know i know these people aren't used to dealing with grief etc etc but ignorance is an explanation not an excuse #playing that part in the beginning of the game the first time immediately made me go 'oh. i don't like these people' #(yes i know retrospect changes your interpretation of this section but still)

[futureplayboibunnie]

a little geto oneshot just to get back into the swing of writing again <3

cult leader! geto. pillowtalk. fuckbuddies to…parents? geto getting horny over you being domestic and taking care of the twins lol. a lil angsty and fluffy x

Suguru's mind was wandering as he stared out into the horizon on the balcony, he was feeling troubled in a way that didn't alarm him but irks him. He was quietly brooding as he watched the sky darken alongside his mood. Geto had just finished fucking you, hard. His cigarette was burning out on his fingertips, he chucked it away when he felt the graininess of your fingertips smooth against his bare back, you swiped your hand against his forearm and sighed as you stood next to him, feeling the breeze flow over you.

He felt different from the Geto that you once met, the one you found about to curse an entire village to death. You made it your mission to find these young kids with powers they didn't have control over and take them under your wing, the twins that you tracked from their cursed residuals, and lo and behold, Geto was there. Circumstantial events ended up in you becoming his concubine, his little secret, but then again, you did care for the kids that you protected. It reminded him of the whole point of Jujutsu High

“Let me guess, you want the world to disappear.” He said lowly with a soft smirk, glancing at you in his button-up shirt and nothing else, the way he liked you.

You pursed your lips. “You can stay. Mimiko and Nanako too. Miguel and the others can maybe visit on the weekends, I guess.” You answered plainly, but with a hint of warmth in your voice that was enough to make your lips curl into a soft smile. Suguru chuckled, his eyes creasing slightly when he clocked your breathing. He knew something was weighing on your mind and before he could even ask, your lips twisted as you sighed. "I betrayed a lot of people over the years Geto. I told myself I was doing it to protect people.. you know, kids like the girls, hated and abused by people who don't understand them. I killed sorcerers that followed the girl's cursed residuals to keep them safe.” Your words were dampened by concern and worry.

“I was ruthless.” You tisked, reminding yourself of the brutal violence your protection provided, Geto admired that most about you. He liked it, he didn't expect anything less from you.

“You're a curse user. You did what you had to do.” He replied flatly. His expectations of you were always high, it took someone with steel in their spine to be a curse user and you had exactly that. You let out a soft breath as you spoke hesitantly.

“Truth is, I'd do it again. I told myself a thousand times that it would be for kids like Mimiko and Nanako, for them to grow up with some kind of control over their cursed energy. But maybe I did it for selfish reasons too.” Your voice was soft as you admitted your inner workings. “When I'm not killing, all I can think about is you.” Your eyes met his, nervous as the words just fell from your lips, the little flutter of your lashes caused his heart to stir, and a wave of possessiveness washed over him. Geto intertwines his hand with yours and kisses your skin.

“I won't let anything happen to you. I'll protect you.” He stated confidently and not a single part of you doubted that. He watched you sigh as you averted your gaze, your teeth caught onto your lip. Geto knew you were still hiding something.

“I should be happy right now.” You murmured. Your mind was on the girls, they'd been in Suguru's compound for months and they'd barely left it, you knew it was to keep them safe but you noticed how uninterested and unhappy they were as the days went by. They were only 8, they needed to have fun like other kids would.

“What is it ?” He holds onto your hand tighter as he glares at you intently.

“The girls are cooped up, miserable and bored. They deserve to have some freedom. We can't hide them away forever.” You breathed out, your eyebrows knitted in anticipation as you awaited Geto's response. For some reason, at this moment, he couldn't find it within himself to disagree with you. Not when you were being so...domestic. His chest tightened at the thought for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. You anticipated a long, awkward silence but that wasn't the case.

"Take them out..” He said almost instantly, that made you turn your head and look at him with surprise.

Geto didn't like taking his girls outside, Mimiko and Nanako were sensitive kids and he didn't want to jeopardize their safety for such trivial things, he needed to keep them safe in an environment that he created. But he had noticed a change in the girls, they were unhappy. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...you taking them to the park...letting them have fun like normal kids. He wouldn't trust anyone else other than you with his girls. You were a little shocked to say the least

“If Gojo finds you...” You muttered.

“You can't keep doing this forever. You wanted to save them for a reason, let them live like children for once.”

-

Suguru kept thinking about it as he saw you leave to go play with the girls. He had to admit, he fucking loved seeing you like this, so caring and nurturing. It caused his stomach to do backflips, the idea of you taking care of his girls, like you were a doting mother. Geto loved the idea of fucking you full of his kids, as his concubine it should have been your job to carry an heir for him in the first place, but no...he wanted you all to himself first.

“Are the girls asleep?” He fixed you both a drink.

“With their muddy shoes on.” You gave him a tired half smile as you threw your coat down. You hadn’t see the girls this happy, especially by something as simple as playing in the park.

“Who else do I know that does that?” Geto glanced over at you with a smirk obviously referring to you, his chuckle was wam and so sexy. He passed you your glass and you clinked it against his, he took a swig and stared hard at you, but there was a certain tightness to him that made you question if something was weighing on his mind or not.

"You okay?'

“I was reminded of something, the way you talked about the girls. Satoru...asked me if I longed for something more, if I had any other desires if I wasn't a Jujutsu sorcerer, well, curse user now.” His voice sounded stained and unsure. “I do recall yearning for something more and I thought that my plan to create a non-sorcerer world would help me reach it. But now I feel like I've lost that feeling beyond the blood and the chaos-“ Geto was irked and a part of him was left unfulfilled for reasons he couldn’t control.

"Hey.” You grab his face with your palm, stroking away the little tufts of hair angling his face. “You're acting as if you don't have a reason for your motives. You can still have more.” Geto's eyes burned into yours, like whatever you said could affirm him or break him right now. “You've been through hell and I know you.. You can't let the bad things you did in your past define you. I know you're good. You are good.”

Geto knew that he was once good, but after all the things he's done, there's no way he could atone for it. Geto was not a good man, nor was he holy. But for you to say that he deserved to believe he was, was the closest thing to godliness he had ever felt, even being the worst curse user with the power of heaven and hell incarnate.

“No, you're good.” He said quickly as he glanced away. It felt like averting his gaze away from you made him feel like more of a man, not bendy and breakable within your hold. He sighed after a long sile moment. “What I said earlier, about you being a curse user,” He breathed out hesitantly. “You're not a curse user, you don't have a curse user's heart. There's just...too much good in you.” Geto's hand went to your face and palmed it perfectly, he caressed your hair and let his hand slip down to your jaw, and his thumb cradled your chin. “It's why I love you.” His eyes narrowed down to your lips, pulling it down with the pad of his thumb. He loved the sound of you breathing, the way your body moved, the way you knew exactly what you wanted.

Your lashes fluttered as you gave him a lazy smile, one filled with relief at the words he just uttered, but your heart was racing. You were getting shy on him now, it was cute. “I love you too.” Your voice was just above a whisper, sweet nothing's whirling around your head turned into a reality. Get pulled you into his chest and he gave you a chaste kiss on your temple, and then you leaned into his lips, his mouth was like sustenance. His mouth became greedier and hungrier, he wanted to claim what was his. Hell, maybe he wanted to watch you swell with his kid. Every king needs an heir.

#geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto smut #geto fluff #geto angst #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk suguru #suguru geto #geto x y/n

[comradekatara]

reply to this post from @silverknight338 that i wanted to respond to more thoroughly:

To go into sokka’s retreat, it’s because he tried to mold himself into the man/warrior of the village. He didn’t have any mentor there, so he based it on myths and idealizations, putting up a front in order to project safety, even if it’s not much of a disguise. I doubt the older women of the south believed he could save them, but they were still grateful he would try, and would never tell him it wasn’t helpful because it was a way for him to redirect his mourning. He can push the mourning back if he has enough to do, and worry about, and protect. He was just a scared kid, but he tried. And now he’s still on this incredibly exhausting journey, there’s barely any time to truly process what’s going on past the bare minimum let alone old memories and scars. Katara throwing it in his face that he doesn’t love Kya the way she did, because he maybe never showed his mourning, never openly spoke or wielded it the way she did, because if he did, it wasn’t how the warrior he wanted, needed to be, acted. So maybe even in that episode, he still pushes aside that old grief, that he wasn’t smart enough to see around the fire nation’s goal, wasn’t fast enough to get there in time, but he knows on a deeper level how seeking revenge won’t help him. It’s been a really long time since i’ve watched the series in whole, but i think he blames himself. For katara’s anger, i think it’s because she doesn’t busy herself the way sokka did. She reflects and has seen the cause and effect of her father’s absence. Because her father left, her brother became annoying, uptight, and could barely see past his nose (sokka grew up to try to take responsibility, but to katara this is her brother playing, he can’t fill that role). Because of the fire nation, her father left to fight. Because of the fire nation, her mother died. She emotionally connects with people, and empathizes with them, she’s been through a lot, losing her parents in one way or another to the fire nation, and seeing the devastating effects it has on everyone. She has a strong sense of morals, and add in the emotional aspect, that’s a dam waiting to burst. Whereas sokka has a more detached take on it, he empathizes with people, but he has a “mine first” mentality that katara doesn’t. Because we the viewers have seen Katara be the empathetic and caring one, it is quite the contrast to see her lash out, especially with loved ones. because she is so empathetic, she typically calls people out, but this word whipping, it hurts and it is true, is rare as she usually tries to understand. this is such an old deep hurt, something she has had time to stew about. This isnt the first time she’s thought this.

right. what's important to understand is that sokka was told that "being a man is knowing where [he's] needed the most, and that's protecting [his] sister." he also knows his mother died to protect her. he knows she's special in a way no one else is. he knows that the raids will never truly end as long as the fire nation has power, as they have had for a century. to sokka, being a man isn't just fighting for a cause, it's dying for one. in his mind, he was all but told in explicit terms that it is his destiny to lay down his life to protect katara. and the only person who would ever try to dispel that notion is katara herself, but being her protector also means being unable to confide in her (that's not what men do, plus she's his little sister, he doesn't want to upset her in a real way, only in a teasing older brother way) so he's just... distant. distant where it counts, at least. i think if he actually ever spilled forth the contents, the truly hideous depths of his psyche to his sister she would never accuse him of being heartless or arrogant or delusional again. but he never will. he will take those feelings to the grave. perhaps when they're much, much older, or if she gets him really drunk. but even then, i doubt it. i don't think he's self-aware enough to know what exactly he would even say if it came down to it.

i do think there is a part of him that blames himself for what happened that day, because he just always blames himself. although i think he's smart enough to realize that no matter what, he couldn't have killed yon rha, or have gotten to hakoda in time, i think he probably feels like if he had gone to his house instead of trying to fight, he could've done what kya did instead. which is obviously crazy, because kya would not have let him, but he also thinks that it's his fault that yue became the moon, so like. he's not exactly rational when it comes to his guilt complex. but he also doesn't want revenge. sokka is always thinking big picture, not to mention that his mother died at the hands of the fire nation, but she didn't die for him. so to him, kya's killer is just a faceless cog in the imperialist machine. he never saw yon rha's face, looked into his eyes, like katara did. his mother's death wasn't personal the way it is for katara. and he knows that, so he doesn't say anything. yes, she was his mother too, but he didn't grieve her like katara did. he's probably never wondered what yon rha was like the way katara has, he only knows that the flag of the raiders was sea ravens because he has an incredible memory (which makes it even more tragic that he can't remember kya's face, a deliberate act of repression to cope that he now seemingly regrets), it's not like he ever contemplated revenge. clearly katara has. i definitely think she's had fantasies of avenging her mother's death in a heroic fashion long before zuko offered her the opportunity. which is why the banality of the moment when she stares into yon rha's eyes once more and sees his humanity and the futility of what she is about to do is so important. she was always too caught up in trying to be a hero that she neglected her personhood. sokka also neglected his personhood, but in a far less valorizing way. "the boiling rock" and "the southern raiders" is about both of them accepting nuance and humanity into their perceptions of themselves and their respective roles, but in different ways to suit their different needs. but i digress.

i think the fact that katara considers what sokka is doing "playing soldier" to be super interesting. when you hear that line in the pilot, you assume that she's right because she's the narrator and the hero and she's special and immediately likable, so of course she's right about sokka, who so far has only complained and been a dick. but he isn't playing. by the next episode we begin to see that. to him this is a matter of life or death. he was told by his father, by his mother's sacrifice, by his family and his village that it is his duty to protect katara by whatever means necessary. so he's preparing for that day and is trying to use his extremely limited resources to be strong enough to protect her and their village or die trying. i think katara considers it playing because she's in total denial of sokka's worldview. like she just doesn't accept that sokka is okay with sacrificing himself, so to her he's like this because of ego and not because everyone in the village and their father is somehow fine with the idea that he is just a sacrificial lamb in her honor. like that must be so horrifying for her to consider that she just refuses to think about it. it's way easier to rationalize sokka's behavior as annoying useless sexist brother who can't even wash his own socks. don't interrogate why he's depressed and paranoid and hopeless if he's obnoxious. focus on the little things, the small antagonisms and petty arguments, and you don't have to think about how concerning your relationship is! i love when katara says "from now on, you're on your own!" because it's such a ridiculous thing to say. katara, honey, he would follow you to the ends of the earth. (and he does.)

katara's righteous anger thrums through her at the very core of who she is. her inability to tolerate even the slightest injustice (both real and perceived) is why she is so compassionate and kind and helpful but also so quick to snap. sokka doesn't have that. he's also kind and helpful and brave, of course, but he doesn't have this optimistic view of the world where he sees the best in the people and has a beautiful vision for what the world can be. his worldview is very bleak, very cynical. i wouldn't necessarily call it a "mine first" mentality so much as he just tries to approach every situation logically. and in episodes such as "the painted lady," it's not that he doesn't care about jang hui, it's not that he thinks the pollution and oppression and poverty is fine, but he's focused on defeating the firelord, and to him, once that happens, they can work on helping all the people who have been oppressed by the fire nation, not just one village. katara sees someone in need directly in front of her and immediately goes to help them, whereas sokka considers the bigger picture and how to best improve lives overall. it can seem like a callous approach to someone like katara, but they do have the same end goal, which is to help others. (and if she thinks he's callous, he thinks she's myopic. and they're both kind of right, to an extent, but they also both want the same thing, and are both extremely brilliant, so there's also that.) and of course his "logical" priorities also fly out the window when it comes to katara. like he does want to be practical but he cares about katara and his loved ones more. in moments when he is truly challenged it's clear that he feels and loves far more deeply than he lets on.

katara does lash out quite often, not only at sokka but also at toph, zuko, even aang once (although she immediately apologizes, which is unique to aang. she does not apologize to anyone else when she yells at them, not even to toph after mocking her blindness on like the second day of knowing her!) but in "the southern raiders" it's clear that her feelings, coming from a place of grief and rage and buried guilt, are even more volatile than usual (and she's already quite an emotionally volatile person). i think what she says to aang, that she knew he wouldn't understand, comes off very tone deaf because he obviously can empathize with her grief and guilt and rage, but because she's always placed him on a pedestal, she can't imagine him having these dark and messy emotions that she is contending with. even though he does, and she should know that better than anyone considering that she is his primary confidante and best friend, but i think she's too caught up in her own rage to realize in the moment that other people know her pain and yet can choose to react differently. she and zuko process things very similarly and they're really enabling each other in this episode, but their grief also comes from a place of guilt because their mothers sacrificed themselves for them, and they feel like they need to honor their memories and no one else understands that burden. but of course, aang and sokka do understand, aang is plagued by guilt for "abandoning" his people, and sokka feels guilt over... everything basically. but katara and zuko lash out because they're saying things they don't want to hear, and yeah, they've had a lot of time to stew in those feelings.

sokka doesn't resent hakoda at all, because he is simply too insecure for that, but katara feels like hakoda abandoned her, and that's a really complicated well of deep resentment that adds another really fascinating layer to her character (in terms of recontextualization, it really reframes why katara was so willing to let sokka go see their father while she stayed behind in ba sing se. katara is very compassionate and helpful and empathetic, but she is not selfless). katara also feels like sokka abandoned her, at least emotionally. like obviously sokka is physically present for her at all times, but he does not communicate with her, he isn't actually honest about his feelings with her. katara craves people with whom she can have honest discussions about their emotions, and sokka just can't do that. it runs counter to his entire modus operandi of repression and masking his true feelings and being the brother katara needs but not the brother she wants. and she resents him for that. she implies he acts heartless in "the painted lady" because he is admittedly quite callous upon witnessing suffering (although he obviously can empathize with the jang hui villagers in the same way katara can, they grew up in the same tiny, decimated village; his dismissiveness is a combination of "logical detachment" and being nervous about staying on schedule for the upcoming invasion). and i understand where katara is coming from, because if he was my older brother, his condescension would also get on my nerves and i would also point out every single one of his flaws, however minor, to "knock him down a peg" (of course, his ego/self esteem is already underground, he's not condescending because he thinks he's better than anyone, so her tactic is ultimately futile lmfao). but she hears him open up to toph, confide something about his true feelings regarding katara and their mother that he's never actually told katara. the fact that he won't communicate with her must be infuriating. and then again, she's also right. they do see kya differently. and they both know it.

this conflict between them – the mother gap, if you will – is not one that i think could ever be fully resolved, unless somehow sokka learned how to be truly honest and vulnerable with katara, and katara learned how to apologize to sokka. but those are things neither of them will ever actually do, in all likelihood. so they will continue to be codependent as fuck, two halves of the same whole, while simultaneously letting this rift exist between them, perpetually unbridged due to a fundamental lack of communication. but at the end of the day, it doesn't really matter. their love for each other transcends their unspoken gaps in understanding.

#considered putting this under a readmore but fuck it #katara&sokka #katara #sokka #not tagging anyone else Its All About THEM Babeyyy #analysis #silverknight338 #hey did u know. that they are so important. and their relationship makes me insane. did u know that. did u

[come-down-that-tree]

Prologue Previous

Come down that tree! (An aftermare story)

Chapter 8: Hindi ka pangit mahal kong kaibigan!

Something was tingling his nose. Nightmare groaned before cracking open an eye-socket and falling nose to nose with his twin's face, far too close to his. He somehow looked really smug and was holding a blade of grass, he probably used that to bother his nose and that's what woke him up.

"What…"

Dream instantly shushed him, smile going wide and body almost vibrating from barely contained energy. What was happening? The dark twin tried to remember the last time he was greeted from sleep in such a strange way. His fuzzy mind summoned some distant memory about a "really cute squirrel who somehow fell asleep on his lap and that should not be awakened" and he glanced to his lap. There was resting the snoozing head of their “guest”. Gears turned slowly inside his mind and due to an inability to properly compute any information so early in the morning, Nightmare just huffed and looked back at his brother as if everything was normal.

“You think you can get us something good for breakfast ‘m kinda hungry?”

Dream just nodded and went his merry way to the village but he still saw the shine in the goldenish eyes. That little-

He will let this slide because the other guardian finally looked happy again and maybe also because he was beyond exhausted. Maybe. He didn’t even remember falling asleep last night.

Now about his lap’s situation… Should he move him?

He didn’t move him.

What would be the point? All he risked was to wake the other up. When he was probably just as tired as him. What if he somehow woke up half panicked again? Would he be able to be left unharmed this time? There was no cute animal on his lap.

A menacing ticking bomb at best.

The future exploding engine stirred a bit and Nightmare tensed.

Do not move.

May the train of panic go back to its station without his passenger.

“I GOT DONUTS!”

Nightmare silently cursed his twin and surveyed the result of the shout with a wary eye. The sleeper uncurved from his asleep posture and gazed upon the surroundings.

Geno didn’t even seem to react upon realizing his position and just sat up against the tree, all while rubbing away the tiredness of his face.

Dream sat in front of them and started to share the various pastries stored in a basket he brought back from down the hill without a care in the world.

They ate together, ignoring for a blissful moment all the turmoil from the last days. Nightmare cut half of his sugary treat to nimble on it, pondering over his feelings over the whole situation. He could see on one side his brother eating far too quickly as usual -he was going to choke anytime soon now- and on the other side Geno treated the food as if it was something incredibly precious… Was he eating enough? Spirit guardians didn’t need that much food to go on. Honestly, a sunny day was almost as filling as a big meal and they only ate sometimes as a treat.

The monsters in his books seemed to eat at least once a day, unless they were on some sort of adventure. He eyed up and down their guest. Hard to say when a skeleton was malnourished. But his bones’ dull color and… “melted” eye socket didn’t offer him the image of a healthy individual…

A part of him refused to even worry about the one who scared and endangered him so much recently. How dared he call him soulless… It hurted. A lot. It wasn’t the first time he had been accused of such a thing and he would have lashed out -or fled- if not for the sad sight he had had before him. Geno had all but crashed down, unresponsive to the outer world. Memories of weeping down in a dark alley after a literal breakdown had made him do what he’d wish someone had done to him then. Get him back to reality, maybe a bit harshly, and ensure he calmed down fully before anything. His anger had dimmed along the ordeal.

It had disappeared completely when the other went back on his words.

Still, he was still waiting for a genuine apology. But confronting the other about that didn’t sit well with him. He will wait. He was sure now. Geno was strange, not mean.

A shiver on his neck made his head turn around. He caught Dream staring at him with a frown, some donut crumbs lingering around his mouth. His brother almost instantly smiled at him brightly as if the frown had been nothing more than a hallucination upon noticing him watching. Uh? Was something worrying him? Maybe a conversation will be needed later… He didn’t like the face he saw and liked even less what it could mean.

Later.

When he’ll no longer be so exhausted from all this touchy feelings stuff. Urg.

He’ll ignore it for today, just today.

Ignorance was bliss and he sure was yearning for some…

It was not as blissful as he'd hoped. Not for him. They stayed in an awkward silence for days!!!

Dream seemed to spend an awful long time in the village. Geno kept silent and Nightmare didn't know what to say.

Awkward. Silence.

The time suddenly felt so long. He was used to silence but not that kind. A heavy one. He tried his best to distract himself with books. Why couldn't he focus properly on the stories? He already read that line three times and that was one of his favorite books he specially went to pick up at the library -he also finally apologized for the wet book, thankfully the old librarian was one of the few to not dislike too much so his precious book's supply hadn't been cut off- in the vain hope it could distract him.

But no. He kept thinking about the other resting in the grass not far.

It was the 4th time he read that sentence.

"What are you readin' ?"

Geno was all of the sudden right next to him, glancing at the words he was trying to understand. The surprise made Nightmare let go of the book that hit the grass with a flap. The monster calmly picked it up and handed it to him. The guardian took it with much more precaution than needed and secured it against his chest before even thinking about answering.

“It’s “La nuit des enfants rois” by Bernard Lenteric…”

“Oh? I don’t know that one, what’s it about?”

He turned fully towards Geno and cocked his head on the side, wondering if the other genuinely wanted to hear about the book’s plot or was just… What?

“Come on, don’t be shelf-ish! Share with the class!”

“If you insist… Wait a second.”

The realization of the attempt at a book pun made him wheeze. It was bad! Truly! But he did not expect it and now he just. Couldn’t. Stop. Laughing! They ended up talking for a while about this book, then other books, then weird scientific experiments about waffles… Geno tried to pun his way through the whole conversation, talking faster and louder with each one succeeding in making the guardian react.

It had been… fun.

He glanced at Geno who was trying to tell a story with the more fish puns possible in it. The monster was grinning brightly. He sure was prettier with a smile on.

Geno suddenly dropped the smile and looked at him with a strange shine in his eyes.

"I'm no pretty."

Oh. Oh! He said it aloud. Warmth went up his face as shame flooded his system. Whyyyy!?

His bashful act disappeared as soon as he registered how serious Geno seemed. He stared at the other for a second before saying out loud and clear:

"You're not ugly either."

"No. I am."

"Why are you being so stubborn about it? Can't accept a little compliment, can you?"

At this point, Nightmare was just irked by the discussion and stopped thinking altogether about what he was sputtering about. He would think later about how utterly silly the argument was and maybe swallow a bit in shame once alone. But now what was important was winning the argument.

"Sure, you aren't a beauty princess but going as far as calling yourself ugly is stupid. Why are you doing that?"

“Hypocrite!” was shouting his mind but he pushed the thought away. Now was not the time for that.

Geno sighed and shaked his head. Was the fool going to argue such a dumb fact?

Nightmare squeaked as he watched the monster slowly lift his shirt. Nope. Automatically his hands flew to his eye sockets. Ah! He can’t see anything now. Not good if the need to run arised…

“What are you doing?”

…

No answer, nothing. Should he try a peek?

His fingers moved slightly to allow himself to see.

His hands dropped.

In front of him, Geno was looking away, a hand holding his shirt up, revealing a sight the negative guardian wasn’t prepared to see. Ever. He tentatively itched closer, not daring to turn his eyes away.

“Does it hurt?”

A shiver runned through the most damaged ribs Nightmare has ever seen.

“No. Not anymore.”, breathed Geno.

The bones looked like something all but gnawed on it right after stabbing it all over. What was strange was the absence of cracks. Almost as if, the missing bits had not been torn away but just decided to stop existing. What could cause such “wounds”?

“How did you…?”

“I rather not talk about it.”

And with these words, the fabric flopped down, cutting short the fragile conversation. They fall back into silence.

But with the thoughts raging through his mind, Nightmare didn’t feel really “quiet”.

He didn’t know what to say so he said nothing and went to sit a bit further against a tree, cracking open his book. Not once did he cross Geno’s eyes during the process.

It was the 5th time he read this sentence.

End of chapter 8!

Go to chapter 9?

------------------------------------------------------------

@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont @zu-is-here

Dreamtale, Dream and Nightmare belong to @/jokublog

Geno to @/loverofpiggies

#chapter 8 #aftermare #come down that tree! #Hindi ka pangit mahal kong kaibigan! #I wonder if some of you guys look up the translation of the titles X) #by ''you guys'' I mean the 4 (sometimes 5) persons reading my story XD #I'm not very fond of this chapter #kinda hate it #just a bit #but I hope dear readers that you'll enjoy it! #the twins really need to talk at one point #but nothing like fleeing from a difficult conversation uh? #both sides #here a lil' thing I wanted to write more about but didn't #about the food thingie (a headcanon of mine for this story) #Night' rarely asks Dream to go search for food unless it's to celebrate something #when he is in a very good mood or when he wants some confort #(or to distract his twin) #which one is it here? :)

[asamandra]

Whumptober 2022 - Day 20

Enough is enough - Prisoner trade

“Shut up,” the men hissed and hit Yusuf on the back of his head. He ducked his head… or he tried to… and glared at them through his lashes. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he said and this earned him a hit on his head again. His hands were tied behind his back and he sat on a horse. Another rope around his waist tied him to the saddle. 

HIs capturers had stopped the horses outside of the village and waited. 

“You asked me how long we have to wait,” the man who held the reins of the horse Yusuf sat on snarled. 

“Oh, I’m sorry for being curious,” Yusuf grinned and the man slapped him on the back of his head again. 

“They are coming,” the other one said and sat up straighter in his saddle. Yusuf could see four horses and on one of them sat a man, tied up as well and with something that looked like a sack over his head. He knew the man. He was the village headman and a brutal bastard as well. He and his henchmen used to take passing travelers prisoner to sell them as slaves. 

Unfortunately they had managed to capture him, Yusuf, but if there’s one thing he could count on then it was his family. 

“We are here,” Andromache called the moment they were within calling distance. The other woman, Quynh, pulled the bag off of the man’s head and Yusuf’s capturers could see their headman, a little disheveled but alive and well. 

The man who held the horse he sat on moved his legs and both horses started to walk. Andromache, who held the reins of the horse with the village headman, did the same and they both approached each other. He could see the bows in Quynh’s and Nicolò’s hands. 

They stopped in about a horse’s length distance and Andromache nodded at the man, then let go of the reins of the headman’s horse and it started to walk. The guy who held his horse did the same and Yusuf rode to Andromache. 

“Sorry, boss,” he said the moment he was close enough for her to hear him but she just shook her head, took the reins and led him back to Nicolò and Quynh. 

“Don’t worry, Yusuf,” she grinned. She pulled out a knife, reached over and cut the ropes that held him. “It wasn’t planned but not unwelcome. We could… question him a bit and he told us everything we need. Now we cannot only stop him and his henchmen, no, we also have the names of his business partners as well. We can take out the whole business,” she said. 

“So, it was a good thing I got myself captured?” Yusuf raised a brow.

“Not exactly a good thing,” Andromache sighed. “Nicolò wanted to march into the village and kill everyone but we could convince him to do it our way. And I promised him that he can kill as many of them as he wants to the moment we have you back.” 

“Oh,” Yusuf said. “I thought we could have an evening together first.” 

“I’m pretty sure you can convince him to wait a day or two,” Andromache grinned and waggled her brows. And Yusuf sighed theatrically.

#whumptober2022 #no.20 #prisoner trade #the old guard #fic #andromache the scythian #yusuf al-kaysani

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

Higurashi Month 2022, Day 15: Shadows

Keiichi's heart was a solid knot of pain in his chest as he trudged down the dirt road, feeling sticky and dirty with the dried mud and grime crusting the edges of his clothes, the back of his neck damp with sweat. The way Mion had shrunk back when he'd refused yet again to join the club after school today, the soft hurt in Rena's eyes…

Damnit, damnit, damnit!

He angrily kicked a rock, the metal bat he'd chosen to defend himself dragging behind in the dirt. He hated rejecting his friends like this, hated needing to carry this damn weapon in his off-hand, worried that someone was going to attack him. But what else could he do!? The whole village was clearly hiding something from him, and all his friends were in on it. He couldn't shake off that bone-chilling feeling as Rena's slitted pupils had peered into his soul and her cheerful leer had distorted her kind face into a mask, the terror that even now made his hands shake.

If he didn't want to die, he couldn't afford to trust them. He couldn't afford to get "transferred" like Satoshi-kun.

His sneakers ground angrily against the dirt, and Keiichi's shoulders tensed as he heard a scrape of gravel behind him. Was Rena back, even though he had warned her away?

"Now what do you want!?" he snarled as fear pierced his heart, turning around to confront her –and beheld an empty road, with the dirt track unraveling into the distant summer heat-haze.

Despite the sticky, sultry warmth that made cicadas chatter in the air, a chill slid down Keiichi's spine to coil in his stomach. There was definitely no one there, this part of the road was verged with meter-high stone walls to keep the field around him level.

"Was I…imagining things?" he asked himself, shaking off the unease. I felt like someone was there. But I guess I'm just being paranoid…?

He kept a sharper eye out, nonetheless, as he continued trudging home. Every nerve was on alert, ever sense pushed to its keenest edge, and Keiichi relaxed a little as he pushed open the door to his house, confident that his vigilance had been rewarded. No one had followed him home, so he and his parents could…

"Mom and dad are out?" Keiichi blinked, looking at the empty shoes rack as the door swung shut at his back. He shrugged to himself, moving to toe off his sneakers, and froze as there was the distinctive, unmistakable sound of a footstep behind him.

Footsteps again…something is definitely here.

Keiichi grip tightened slightly on the bar he still held in his left hand.

Th-that's ridiculous. I was so careful not to be followed. No one should have been able to get near me.

His eyes fell nervously to the polished linoleum beneath his feet, the step up into the regular hallway out of the landing well he was in. There was an overhead behind him, right above the door, and it flicked on automatically for about five minutes when the door was opened. It was dim, but it still threw his shadow onto that step and the floor in front of him, a vague outline of head and shoulders and body.

There aren't any shadows here but mine. There's no way anyone's here. Keiichi thought, trying to reason this out.

He swallowed.

…there's no way anyone's here…so why do I feel like someone's watching me? Just "what" is behind me? If I turn around now, I might find out.

Sweat poured down his face as Keiichi tried to stiffen his legs and straighten his spine against the fear that was looming like another presence entirely over his shoulder.

But if no one's behind me…will I be able to accept that?

"Wh-who's there…?" Keiichi whispered, his heart hammering like a sickness in his throat.

There was a soft breath behind his shoulder as Keiichi's body turned to ice.

The sound of inhaling…! He thought as the shaking overtook him. Something is there. Something inexplicable is after me!

A desperate cry tore itself from his throat as Keiichi whirled, lashing out blindly with his bat. The impact of it hitting something jarred from the bones of his hands all the way up to his shoulders, and before Keiichi could really even process that he'd just hit the shelf for the family's shoes he was swinging the bat again, hitting blindly twice more, like the panic-stricken smacking of spiders that he couldn't see. It was a more apt comparison than he realized, since when Keiichi finally got himself under control again, breathing heavily, there was nothing there at all, nothing but dents in the wall and a smashed shoe rack on the ground.

There's…nothing here.

The front door was as solidly closed as it had ever been, and Keiichi made sure that nothing would come through as he hastily stepped forward and locked it –double-locked it, clicking the door lock shut and adding the chain as well. He dropped his bat and turned, fleeing blindly up the stairs until he reached his room, where he dropped his satchel and turned his back to the sliding door.

What was that just now? Keiichi thought, wiping his chin clear of sweat. There was no one near me. But I'm sure there was something behind me. I heard footsteps and breathing.

They're not here, but they are here…that's impossible!

~*~

"Ngh! Uwaaah!" Shion cried, sinking down to the base of the telephone pole. "Satoshi-kuuuun!"

'I'm sorry, Shion.'

The voice was frailer than a whisper, but it was there as Shion brought her head up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Why are you apologizing, Satoshi-kun…? She thought, and her face crumpled up as she buried it in her knees. I'm the one who should apologize…I said I would wait for you forever. I believed that my feelings would never be shaken…but before I knew it…I had left myself wide open.

The Satoshi-kun inside me…is gradually slipping through the cracks all over my body. Seeping through…and leaking out. You keep disappearing from inside me…

Satoshi-kun's face was grave.

'Are you suffering…because I'm with you…?'

Wh-why would I!? You're precious to me, Satoshi-kun! Don't say that I'm suffering because of you!

'I was always with you, Shion. But if I stay with you forever…in the end, my existence will hurt you.’

"You're lying!" Shion cried aloud. "It's not true, it's not true, it's not true! Then where are you?! You're not with me at all!"

'Which would you prefer, Shion?' he asked. 'If my being with you will cheer you up even a little, then I'll stay by your side forever. But if my being with you makes you suffer, even a little…then I'll go away somewhere, without a second thought.'

"Don't talk like that…" Shion sobbed, rubbing at her overflowing eyes. "I want you with me…I want you with me…I want you to be with me forever, Satoshi-kun!"

'Okay…' he murmured, but then his fragile voice started to grow even more dim. 'I'll stay with you…Shion…always…'

"Satoshi-kun!" she cried desperately, lunging forward, only to narrowly miss clipping her arm on a white van as it barreled pass, giving an angry honk towards the girl on the side of the road. Wind rushed past her, before settling into the quiet, ever-present drone of the cicadas. Shion's shoulders slumped.

I should hurry back to Okinomiya… She thought, managing to stagger to her feet, her eyes red and raw and her knees shaky, her legs feeling like lead. You're with me, right? You're still with me even now, right…? Satoshi-kun?

She took several steps forward, then hesitated, coming to a halt.

Shuff.

Shion jumped, turning around. One extra footstep…!

The grassy road was empty behind her, but Shion's jaw was still tight.

I'm not the only one here. I sense someone…

She clenched her fist against her heart.

There's no doubt about it. Someone's here…

She gulped, then spoke.

"Who…who's there?"

No one said anything, no one spoke, but a fresh, clear wind swept over the grass, blowing bits of detritus part her and filling her heart with a dear, familiar presence as Shion's tension turned to incredulous joy.

Satoshi-kun!? She thought as her eyes lit up, spinning around to watch the bits of grass and leaves cascade down the road. She chased after them, laughing. You're here! You're here with me! I can't see you…but you were always with me, weren't you!? Satoshi-kun…!

After that, my strange shared life with Satoshi-kin began. I'll never get tired of my days with him. I mean, he's so playful. He always matches his footsteps with mine, but if I stop suddenly, he panics and walks one extra step. It's just so adorable. It pulls at my heartstrings~

Shion went to the festival because she knew Satoshi-kun would like seeing her enjoying herself with the others, but she went into the forbidden shrine for her own reasons. If Takano-san was right and it was humans that were behind the curse, then it was Shion's obligation, Shion's duty, to hunt them down like the mad dogs they were. There might be clues in the Saiguden, hints that she could use to unravel the mystery.

A thump in the darkness beyond Takano-san's lantern made her jump, whirling around. Did Takano-san drop her scrapbook or something…?

No, she was still talking with Kei-chan, scrapbook in hand.

Thump-thump!

Shion turned again, about to give Takano-san a sharp warning for trying to mess around with her, but neither of them had so much as changed position. Takano-san's expression was excited but calm, eager to share her ghoulish knowledge with Kei-chan but not at all grinning and giggling in the way she did when she was messing with someone.

It wasn't Takano-san!?

Shion turned back to the shadowy room, trying to listen. Listen…

Thump-thump-thump!

The noise was close to the floorboards, repetitive and steady.

It sounds like stomping…footsteps?

Shion moved a worried pace forward, sudden realization striking her. Is that you, Satoshi-kun!?

What had she been thinking –if Satoshi-kun had been demoned away, then of course he would hate this dark and scary place! Shion had brought him here, to a place filled with the trappings of Oyashiro-sama, and he must be so upset.

Are you angry, Satoshi-kun?!

The stomping continued unabated as a thin chill wound down Shion's throat to curl in her gullet.

Thump-thump-thump!

She swallowed nervously, her mouth parting in a tentative, ginger half-smile.

Hey…you are…Satoshi-kun, right?

Utter silence fell, as sudden as plunging into an icy abyss, and an oppressive dread swooped down to envelop Shion in a choking shroud as blood drained from her face.

You're…not Satoshi-kun?!

"Ah…ah…!" she gasped, staggering back with an ashen face, fleeing to the comparative safety of Takano-san and Kei-chan. She clung onto him, and he turned around with a yelp of surprise.

"What's wrong, Shion?" Kei-chan asked when he recovered, looking at her with an exasperated smile. "Don't tell me you're scared?"

"Ah-ha-ha, isn't it standard in haunted houses for a girl to cling to a boy?" Shion managed to laugh, attempting an approximation of her usual cattiness. "You know you like it."

Thump! Thump!

Shion's fingers dug in to Kei-chan's sleeve as the distant stomping sound resumed again, growing louder by the second.

"Now that I've told you all that, you understand, right?" Takano-san asked, her lips curling in a gleeful smile. "These oddly shaped devices are tools for killing people!"

Shion jolted and gasped as the thumping seemed to grow even louder, banging on the floorboards almost directly behind her.

"Shion, are you okay?" Kei-chan asked, looking at her with an amused grin.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

"Yes, I'm fine." Shion managed over the noise. "Anyways, you look pale, Kei-chan?"

Why? Don't they hear it? she thought, seeing his careless expression, and then squeezed her eyes shut as the thumping continued. Don't let it bother you! If you don't think about it, you won't hear it! That's right! Ignore it! Ignore it…

"So…you're doing research to see if those customs are still around today, right, Takano-san?" Shion asked, leaning in, and Takano giggled as she flipped the page.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"In Hinamizawa village, formerly known as Onigafuchi village…"

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"In fact, around the end of the Meiji era, a body was found brutally murdered…"

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"Such brutal inhumanity-"

The stomping sounds were so loud now, thudding like a mallet against her ears, and Shion stared in terror at Takano-san as she continued speaking and Kei-chan listened raptly –but to the entirely wrong thing.

Hey, are you sure you can't hear this!? Shion thought frantically as the loud thudding sound wove in between Takano's words, frequently drowning them out. Hey!?

Hey…!

AN: I originally intended to do everyone's experiences with The Footsteps™, but I'm writing these mostly during breaks at my host school during my spring internship (so no manga access) and these were the only two characters I could directly remember. Keiichi stop being a POV hog and let the others experience the long slow slide into paranoia, please and thank you.

#Higurashi Month #Higurashi Month 2022 #Higurashi no Naku Koro ni #Higurashi When They Cry #When They Cry

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Sensei (Jiraiya x reader) SMUT

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Jiraiya x Reader

Word Count: 2580

Warnings: Masturbation (female), cum, oral (male receiving), dirty sex, sensei kink?, praise kink

A/N: I'm not even sorry

Starting your ninja training older than everyone else meant you always felt like you were behind. While all the other students became chunin in their mid-teens, you were 18 before you even took the exam.

That being said, you were older than most of your sensei's previous students.

It didn't used to bother you as much as it did now. Sure, you were sad before that you felt as if you were falling behind the other students. However, now you were worried for another reason. You were worried that Jiraiya saw you as a kid.

He was used to having young students, and he saw them in many ways as his children. You assumed he had the same kind of relationship with you, despite your age. This was fine at first, but the more time you spent with your sensei the more you wanted him to see you differently.

For your part, you had begun seeing him differently already. You took notice of his broad chest, his strong arms. He was trying to teach you a new justu, showing you better form.

Jiraiya was pressed against your back, his arms around your own so he could move your hands to the correct position. His hot breath fanned against your neck, making a chill run up your spine. To him it was no more than teaching a student, but for you it was the moment you began to see him as more than your teacher. Feeling his strong chest pressed up against you ignited a fire inside of you, one that still had not dimmed.

After that day, everything about the way you saw your sensei changed. Previously you hadn't cared much for the way the "Pervy Sage" chased women. You only cared about it in relation to your training, annoyed when you were unable to find your sensei. Now you found yourself jealous when he slunk off to bars or brothels alone, feeling as if he had chosen the option of being with other women over being with you.

You knew these women meant nothing to him, and many didn't even reciprocate his advances. Even so, there was already another woman that actually did mean something to him: Tsunade.

There was no way you could compete with her. She was another of the legendary Sannin, having trained with Jiraiya when they were young. Not only was she admirable for her strength, but she had also spent many years forming a bond with Jiraiya that you felt you could never attain. You knew how he felt about her, and despite the feelings being unrequited it hurt you more deeply than you would ever want to admit to him.

-

Tonight was nothing special. Another night, another village you would spend the night alone in. Jiraiya was already off for the night, no doubt to "gather intel" for his newest Icha Icha book.

You sighed, laying back on your bed in the room you had rented for the night. Your heart ached a little as you looked to the other bed in the room, one that would most likely stay empty tonight as Jiraiya found a bed elsewhere.

Giving up on feeling sorry for yourself, you looked around the room for something to do. You didn't feel like training, having already gone at it all day. You'd already eaten too, crossing that option off your mental list as well. It was times like this that you wish you had a hobby to bring on the road with you.

Glancing back over at Jiraiya's empty bed, something caught your eye. It was his newest publication, another of the Icha Icha series. You had to admit, something about the series had always intrigued you. Before you had always been too shy to pick up a copy, worried about what others might think of you. It's not like you had to worry about Jiraiya coming back tonight when he would be so busy.

You snatched the copy off his bed, flipping it open. The first few pages weren't bad, simply two characters going about their day together. However, it was only a couple more pages in when the characters made it back home and shut the door behind them.

It was filthy.

You had known the kind of content in these books, and had known the type of man that Jiraiya was. He wasn't one to tiptoe around a dirty word, but you had no idea just how dirty he could be in his writing. You read on.

He reached his hands up her blouse, taking a delicate, hardening nipple in each hand. A cry of his name escaped her hips as he began to gently rub circles around them, smirking at her reaction.

As you read the words on the page, you could feel yourself becoming more and more aroused as each word went by. You could almost feel Jiraiya's hands on your body, copying the movements of the characters.

You felt a flash of heat through your body, down towards your womanhood. Without feeling them you already knew your panties would be soaked. Knowing it was Jiraiya who had wrote this was making your mind run wild, imagining he were doing all of these things to you.

You continued reading, moving the book to your non-dominate hand so the other could crawl up your shirt. You grabbed your boob in your own hand, reading on. You flicked a finger across one of your nipples, relishing in the feeling of how hard it already was. You stifled a gasp at the touch, feeling dirty. The situation was giving you a rush, and it was turning you on more than you had been in a long time.

You couldn't stop reading, as if you were possessed. All you could do was read page after page, the actions escalating.

She undid his pants, puling them down to let his hard cock spring free. All she wanted was to take it into her mouth, and she did. Swirling her tongue around the sensitive tip she tasted his precum, only urging her to continue.

You pictured the scene in your head, imagining what it would be like to take Jiraiya into your mouth that way. Imagining it only made you more turned on, thinking about looking up at him through your lashes as he bucked his hips towards you, fucking your mouth.

He lined himself up at her entrance, holding back from slamming into her wetness. He slid his cock along her folds, teasing her until she begged for it to be inside of her.

You moved your own hand down into your panties, soaked just as you had expected. Your body lit up as you reached for your clit, rubbing small circles around the sensitive bud. A soft moan came from your throat, only making you wish Jiraiya were the one to ease it out of you.

You moved your fingers further downward, rubbing along the outside of your pussy. Lost in the moment, you didn't even hear the door creak open.

-

It had been a long night for Jiraiya, and a lonely one at that. Any girl he tried to flirt with denied his advances, and he hadn't even gotten any intel on the mission out of it. He decided to call it a night, walking back to the room he had rented for the two of you.

He expected you to already be asleep, as you usually were on the nights he returned. However, as he reached the door he heard more than snoring coming from the room. At first, he thought he had remembered the room number incorrectly.

For a moment, Jiraiya stood outside. Was there a man in there with you? He decided to peek inside, wanting to see if he needed to go and get his own room for the night.

Opening the door, his eyes went straight to you. He felt his eyes widen so large he was afraid they would pop out of his head. You were laying on your bed in only your panties, and from the sounds in the room he could tell they were already soaked through. Your breasts were on full display, making him wonder why he didn't look at them more often. In fact, he began to wonder why he didn't look at you as a whole more often. He was no stranger to finding younger, though of-age, women attractive, but something about being your mentor had made him block you off in his mind.

Now, as his eyes darted from your breasts to your pussy in an attempt to take it all in, he was mad at himself for not letting himself be attracted to you sooner.

Then he noticed your other hand. In it was a copy of his latest novel, and based on how many pages were left you had just gotten to the good part.

His dick had already begun to press on his pants from the sight of you, but now he knew what had made you feel this way.

It was him.

"Glad to see you enjoy my writing," he said cockily.

-

"Glad to see you enjoy my writing," you heard . Your hand froze in place as your eyes flashed to the doorway. To your horror you saw Jiraiya standing there. How much had he seen?

You shrieked, grabbing the blanket at your feet so you could pull it over your exposed body.

"Easy, it's not like I haven't already seen it now." He teased.

"What are you doing back tonight?" You barked, trying to hide your embarrassment with anger.

"I just wish I'd waited a little longer to come back, maybe you would have already had your panties off."

You knew these were the words of a pervy old man, but you couldn't help the way you felt as you heard them come from Jiraiya. Finally having the courage to look at him, you noticed how dark his eyes had gotten. Looking down, it was hard not to notice the tent forming in his pants.

You had thought you were already as turned on as you could have been, but seeing the way he looked at you was on another level entirely. You had always wanted him to look at you this way, wanted him to desire you.

You let the blanket fall, exposing yourself to him again. You tried not to show your excitement at the way you could see his smile grow as his eyes darted back to your chest.

"How about you take them off for me, sensei?"

You thought you had given the older man a heart attack. He froze, something you figured uncommon for a man so experienced as Jiraiya. He only faltered for a moment, quickly regaining his thoughts and making quick strides over towards you.

He did as you asked, tearing your panties from your body and rubbing his calloused fingers against your pussy. You moaned at the contact, rolling your hips towards Jiraiya.

"You like that?" He asked, "do you like it when your sensei touches you like this?"

You could barely respond, merely nodding as he elicited another moan from you. He leaned towards you, capturing your lips in his own. In the same moment you reached towards him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

"Fuck Jiraiya," you moaned as he began kissing down your neck towards your breasts. Jiraiya smirked at your reaction, knowing what he was doing to you. He pulled away just long enough to undress his torso, coming back to lick a circle around your nipple. One of your hands roamed his chest, running your fingers over the scar you found so sexy. The other buried itself deep in his thick, white hair, trying to pull him closer to you.

He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on your tit as he lazily rolled his tongue around the bud. You continued to moan, urging him on.

For his part in the matter, Jiraiya hadn't felt this young in a long time. Sure, he'd had a run-in or two at a brothel, but nothing like this. Something about this felt more real to him. He knew all of the noises you made for him were genuine, and all he wanted to do was make them get louder.

You felt yourself reaching closer to orgasm as Jiraiya pulled away, taking off his pants. You raised your eyebrows as he exposed himself, met with more than you had expected. For a moment you were worried it wouldn't fit.

"Get on your knees for your sensei."

You did as you were told, getting on your knees so that you could take him eagerly into your mouth. You thought back to the earlier pages in the book, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock.

"Fuck Y/n," he groaned, trying to push more of himself into your mouth. "Your mouth feels so fucking good baby."

You moaned around his cock at the words of praise, sending delicious vibrations through his body.

Looking up at Jiraiya, everything was even better than you had imagines. His hand was in your hair, pulling you further onto his dick.

"That's right baby, get this dick nice and wet so I can fuck you."

You did just that, excited when he pulled out of you mouth. He pulled you up off the floor as if you weighed nothing, pushing you back on the bed.

"Do you want this baby?" Asked Jiraiya, lining himself up.

"Yes sensei," you moaned, teasing him and trying to push your hips closer to his. "Please fuck me Jiraiya."

At your words he pushed himself into you, going slowly enough to let you adjust to his size. When you were ready you started rocking your hips against his, begging him to move.

He began thrusting in and out of you, his thighs slapping against yours in a way that made your pussy throb.

"Jiraiya," you moaned, already feeling close to orgasm after being so close earlier in the night. You could tell he was feeling the same, the tightness of your wet pussy driving him crazy.

Jiraiya looked down at you, watching your tits bounce as he fucked you in a way he had never imagined. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth parted as he thrust into you, only adding to his ego as well as his own pleasure.

"You're gonna make me cum looking like that," he grunted. All you could do was moan in response, holding eye contact with him long enough to feel his thrust falter a little.

The tension was building up in the pit of your stomach until Jiraiya shifted, hitting your g-spot as he thrust. You couldn't hold on any longer, walls contracting around his cock as you screamed his name. He didn't last long after that, your pussy clenching around him pushing him over the edge. He pulled out, spilling over your stomach as he finished jerking himself off.

As he finished, he leaned down to press a kiss to your tired lips. Something about the action felt almost domestic, and you couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach.

"I'm glad I brought this with me," joked Jiraiya, motioning to the book that lie forgotten on the floor.

"Me too," you teased. He smiled back at you with sleepy, satisfied eyes. This would be far from the last time, you were sure. And you couldn't wait for the next one.

-

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MASTERLIST

#jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x reader smut #naruto x reader #legendary sannin #toad sage x reader #pervy sage x reader #pervy sage x reader smut #jiraiya smut #naruto smut #naruto shippuden x reader

[yandere-sins]

"Stop fucking looking at me like that!"

Referencing this post I made, I thought why not :’D

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Rummaging through the big chest, Enderman supplied it with the new items he gathered. Meat, vegetables, a potion for the worst case. Buckets of water and milk, everything you needed to have as a human. It should be enough to last at least for the upcoming weak, but you had been complaining about it rotting and molding since you couldn’t eat it fast enough or preserve it. You were also craving fruits. Biting his lip, he thought hard about how to accommodate your wishes better when he suddenly heard the growling of a zombie nearby, making him come to an immediate stop.

If he was quiet enough, the zombie shouldn’t be able to make you out inside this little, sparely filled room he created. No one said it would be easy to accumulate enough obsidian to build this hut. Still, it was the only way to keep you safe, even if it took him forever. All these monsters and treacherous villagers outside were after you, and even if he was able to keep them at bay for a long time, what if one day he couldn’t be around to keep you from harm? Perhaps it wasn’t a very pretty domicile, but it was safe. The only light source was one window, but he built it high enough so no zombie, skeleton, or creeper would be able to look through it. He collected a bed for you, chests, and books from the village, but that was all there was to keep you busy.

Enderman listened intently, waiting for the footsteps and grunts to disappear before he could let out a sigh of relief. Even with all the precautions he made, one could never be too safe. Even if he wasn’t worried about himself, if it was for you, he’d do everything to keep you far away from the dangerous mobs roaming the world. Continuing to pack your chest with edibles, he didn’t notice you slowly waking up, rising behind him. Enderman made a point out of coming at night rather than day to avoid the one thing that made him uncomfortable. While he would have loved interacting with you, the human custom of keeping eye contact was something he could never bear to endure. Not even for you.

Even now, your eyes drilling into his back, he began to shake anxiously, hoping you’d recognize him and go back to sleep.

But you didn’t.

You never did.

“It’s late,” he chuckled nervously, slowly closing the lid of the chest before standing up. He had to raise the ceiling quite a bit after realizing he couldn’t fit the space after he built it. Even if he could teleport in and out at his leisure, with his size, it would have been hard to stay with you in an emergency had he kept it at his first draft. But he learned that humans quite liked high ceilings, and secretly he hoped that meant you liked him too, considering his size.

“You should be sleeping. I brought new food, so you can rest assured.”

Was he just talking to overcome the awkwardness? You’ve been nearly killing him with this silent treating of yours, only ever looking at the back of his head. It was unfathomable why you’d treat him with such disrespect. He had voiced his discomfort more than once, but you insisted that you hated his treatment of you, and as such, he’d have to endure the same. But how could you? All of this was only ever in your best interest. Out there, you’d have done the same to keep safe - build a home and gathered food - so why did you hate it when he did it? Wasn’t he good to you? Didn’t he try his best to fulfill all your wishes? Was it too much to ask for that you were safe under his care?

“Please stop,” he whispered with clenched teeth, the shaking of his body getting stronger. “What more do I need to do to make you stop looking at me like that?”

“Let me go,” you finally spoke up, the sound of your voice almost as beautiful as he remembered it--no, even better! A quiet gasp escaped him after finally receiving a word from you, and he turned around for the first time in forever to face you.

A big mistake.

Your eyes met as Enderman suddenly felt overcome with a wave of emotions. He wished it had been only positive ones, but there was no way he could escape his instincts. Doubling over in pain, he grunted, trying to keep himself under control, but to no avail. Even in his state, he could clearly perceive the shuffling of blankets as you got up, noticing the state he was in. Though he wanted to believe you cared for him, it was clear you were merely concerned about what to do if something happened to him. But that would be enough. Even if you just liked him for his use, it would be enough to satisfy him. As long as he could keep you safe, you could use him as much as he wanted.

The obsidian made no sound as he gripped you by the wrists, slamming you into the wall. Your body, on the other hand, made an absolutely horrifying crack, so much so, Enderman feared the worst already. But one look at your eyes showed them clear as day, still very much able to perceive him. Perhaps adrenaline soothed your pain momentarily.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that! I told you so many times to fucking stop! When will you listen?!”

His yell filled the whole space around you two. If he hadn’t been seething with anger, he’d have instantly regretted raising his voice. No less because it could have attracted unwanted visitors. Enderman had never lashed out at you before, never done anything that would put you into the opposite of what he wanted - danger. But here he was, eyes falling to your mouth as your breath hitched, unable to form a word. All you did - finally! - was looking down and away from him before pinching your eyelids close tightly.

Immediately, he felt much calmer, now that you weren’t drilling holes into him anymore. Regaining his senses, he let go of you, letting you plummet back onto the bed he held you above. Whether or not you were in pain wasn’t something either of you seemed to notice. Instead, you were quick to hug yourself, fearful tears rolling from the closed corners of your eyes despite no sobs escaping you. You had no weapons to defend yourself, and a punch didn’t do as much as one of his did to you. It must have been a big shock for you to see the other side of Enderman, one you had a hard time comprehending.

Placing his hand on your shoulder, you flinched noticeably before finally breaking down into crying, collapsing forward onto the mattress. Enderman stood there lost for words or actions to console you, wanting to say something, apologize even! It didn’t matter who’s fault it was, he never wanted to see you hurt or crying! That’s why he did all of this after all!

Instead, he remembered the peculiar thing he found in one of the villages. It was a banner, something he thought you might enjoy hanging up in your tiny home, but when he reached for it now, he had a different idea of what to do with it. Ripping off the bottom wasn’t easy even for him, especially since he allowed no tools or scissors in this safe space. But once he had it, he returned to your side, kneeling next to your bed and lifting your head gently. You tried to turn your face away, but he had a tight grip on you, nudging you to face him. Good as you were, you kept your eyes closed still.

Even if he couldn’t be sure how to do it, he loosely tied the cloth around your head, covering your eyes with it. “W-What…?” you stuttered meekly, feeling the fabric on your skin, and Enderman hushed you gently. “This will do. You won’t be able to look at me this way. You’ll never need to be afraid anymore; this will keep you safe, I promise.”

Whether his assurance went through to you, he couldn’t decide, unable to read your expression as you bit your lip. Your body began to shake again, and it felt almost like his whenever you made him uncomfortable and anxious. Enderman knew this feeling all too well, but you wouldn’t need to bear it alone. He could if he had to, but he wouldn’t let you go through these complicated feelings alone.

Easily, with inhuman strength, he picked you up, sitting down where you had been just seconds ago, and lifted you into his lap. Finally, his big body and long arms were good for something, even if he hadn’t expected it would be comforting you. If it was for him, you two could have continued the relationship you had. Enderman would have simply stayed by your side while you slept, brushing the hair out of your face and pulling up the blanket over you to make sure you had a good rest. You didn’t need to recognize his efforts, and you could even scream at him if you’d prefer that, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He knew you were safe and well-taken care of, and he’d never forget you needed him. That was enough.

But now that he held you in his arms, he wasn’t sure if it was enough for him anymore.

Now that this awful habit of looking at him had been prevented, nothing was stopping him from being close to you. Now he could touch you, hold you, comfort you tenderly! All without fearing what might happen. “It’s going to be alright now,” he hushed you sweetly. “I’m so sorry I lashed out, I will do everything to make it up to you! I’ll bring new books and flowers to decorate with soon, everything will be okay. You can always rely on me; I’ll keep you company from now on, trust me!”

He meant it. Even if he didn’t understand most of the complicated feelings you had, you must have felt relieved as you started to cry even more. And so was he. He was relieved too. Who knew being with you so close, holding you, and swaying back and forth with you felt so wonderful. The only other time he held you, felt your warmth and heartbeat, had been when he teleported you inside of this room. Enderman had always believed that to be the height of all emotions, but he now realized there was so much more! So many more opportunities and feelings to explore. But you had time, right? He wouldn’t be greedy; he’d take his time to explore them all with you and enjoy them thoroughly.

After all, you were safest with him.

And he was the happiest with you.

#Enderman #Endermen #enderman minecraft #yandere enderman #yandere!enderman #minecraft #yandere minecraft #yandere!minecraft #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Oh shit, I never told you that Merlin isn’t my actual name??

Igraine reveals… one hell of a secret, and not the one you’re thinking of:

Part 2   Part 3   Part 4(final part)(coming soon)

TW: Uther being a Jackass I guess?

Arthur knows about his dumbass servant’s magic. He wasn’t best pleased, in fact, he was furious when he first found out; how is supposed to protect his servant-turned-best-friend-except-that’s-super-secret-even-from-himself if he’s off doing stupid shit like Sorcery in Camelot?!

He was a lot more sympathetic when Merlin explained that he’d been born with it, and that his destiny was, literally, tied to Arthur’s. That, mixed with the fact that Arthur tended to get himself into a LOT of trouble, without even realising it most of the time, means Merlin has no choice but to be doing stupid shit like Sorcery in Camelot.

Merlin is currently giving Arthur the silent treatment, not that Arthur seems to notice. The two of them were waiting for Morgause to finish whatever it is she was doing to, apparently, allow Arthur to speak to his mother.

She doesn’t take long, and though Merlin keeps his distrustful gaze on her the whole time, he still can’t quite tell what it is Morgause has done. She looks to them with a blank expression, though her focus is mainly on Arthur as she gestures him forward:

“It’s ready, Prince Arthur. Close your eyes, both of you.”

Arthur frowns briefly but does as told. Merlin raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms, and staring Morgause down; she rolls her eyes and huffs quietly when she realises that he isn’t going to take his eyes off her, but gives in, turning away and performing some sort of simple looking (though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it isn’t simple) ritual.

The Witch lets out a deep breath and steps back, and Merlin’s hard stare is finally drawn away from her when a shower of golden sparks materialises in a cloud in front of The Prince.

Arthur opens his eyes to see Igraine standing there, practically glowing, looking every bit the glorious Queen she once was. She gives him a soft smile, and Arthur can only stare, his mouth moving of it’s own accord:

“Mother?”

Merlin stares on in suspicion as Igraine’s smile grows:

“My son.”

She pulls him forward into a tight hug, and though Arthur had started off forcing himself to be wary, he falls into the hug easily, struggling to hold his tears in. They pull back after far too short of a time, and though Merlin was still distrustful, he wishes she had held Arthur just a little longer.

Merlin’s heart breaks as Arthur goes on to apologise for being born, but his feelings quickly turn to anger as Igraine explains the truth, how his people were being hunted, burned, vilified, all because Uther was too much of a hypocrite to admit his mistakes or listen to reason; but he couldn’t lash out now, this time was for Arthur, not him.

Igraine’s face falls even further, and she grips Arthur’s shoulders tightly:

“But we do not have time to talk of this, I can feel the other side pulling me back, I must be quick. Arthur, my son, you have a brother, and you must find him.”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he tenses in place; this had better not be some twisted trick on Morgause’s part to destroy Arthur, because he would destroy her in return if it was. And he would do it in a far messier way. Arthur just looks shocked:

“A brother? How?!”

Igraine smiles mournfully:

“A twin. He was so small when he was born, I thought he wouldn’t make it, but though I can’t see his face, I know he lives, I can feel it. He had hair dark as the night sky, a complete contrast to your golden wisps-”

She lifts a soft, gentle hand, and runs it through Arthur’s hair with a smile:

“-but his eyes, oh his eyes were just as golden as your hair, before they faded to the colour of the sky.”

Arthur gasped but Merlin tensed even further, certain that this must be some sort of trick:

“He was magic?”

Igraine smiles again and nods:

“It’s not common, but not completely unheard of for people to be born magic. Your brother was, and it was beautiful.-”

He smile falls into something more angry, though she’s clearly trying to hide it:

“-Your father... did something. I do not know what; by the time my soul was restful enough to be able to look back upon the world, it was too late, he was gone somewhere I could not see. I know he still lives, your father was too much of a coward to admit his mistakes, but too much of a hypocrite to keep to his convictions and destroy the child, which I can be grateful for. I feared he had been sent far away, but you must find him, restore his heritage.”

Arthur nods vigorously, his eyes wide and desperate, and Merlin finds himself desperate to believe that this spirit is true and genuine:

“What else can you tell me about him? Do you know where he is? What he looks like now?”

Igraine’s face falls into a soft smile again, though she shakes her head mournfully:

“He is powerful, extremely so. I worried he was dead until I suddenly felt him; he appeared in Camelot, around three and a half years ago. His power is vast, I can sense it stretching for miles and miles, though I can not pinpoint the epicentre; he is somewhere within the Kingdom, you must find him.”

Merlin frowns in confusion, stepping forward to interrupt, though he desperately doesn’t want to:

“Did you name him? Your son?”

Igraine looks to him suddenly, as if she weren’t aware they had company, but quickly turns almost her full attention to Merlin with a soft smile:

“You. You looked after my boy, thank you. Thank you for all that you have done. And yes-”

She looks back to Arthur:

“-I named him, though I whispered it with my last breaths, Uther would certainly not have used it, and I do not know if Gaius heard me.”

Arthur responds quietly, his cracking voice heavy with too many emotions to name:

“What is it? What’s my... my brother’s name?”

“Myrddin.”

Merlin takes in a quiet gasp, and Arthur, always with at least one half of his brain focused on his manservant, turns to him:

“You know that name?! Merlin, do you know someone in Camelot with that name?”

Merlin just stares at Igraine, his eyes wide and his hands shaking:

“How... how do you think he got out of Camelot? How would Uther have sent him away?”

Igraine’s face is confused, but mostly curious as she takes a step towards him, still with one hand on Arthur’s shoulder:

“Gaius and Balinor possibly, perhaps Nimueh, though I imagine she fled rather quickly. They were Uther’s closest friends before the purge, and they all practised magic, they would have been... sympathetic, tried to help the child. Why? Are Arthur’s questions relevant? Do you know my son??”

Merlin’s eyes flickered between the two of them, but when Arthur says his name again, his voice nothing short of desperate, his gaze fixes on The Prince:

“Arthur, I... I never told you, because I didn’t think it was... relevant, but... Merlin isn’t my real name.”

Arthur recoils, shocked, and utters a dumbfounded “What?!”. Merlin gulps, and looks to Igraine briefly before resuming his fearful, and slightly confused, stare on Arthur:

“When I was young, my magic was still strong, but I had no control over it. I would subconsciously summon animals to my side constantly. Mostly small things, but the occasional stag or bear would wander through the village to find me. But... but what came most often where the birds; the village is essentially in the middle of a forest, and... and there were thousands of merlins. So I got that as a nickname, Merlin, and it just stuck.”

Arthur just shakes his head, caught off guard but mostly just annoyed:

“You heard my mother, Merlin, we don’t have much time, what is this-”

Merlin interrupts him:

“Just listen!! My real name.... it’s Myrddin.-”

Igraine takes in a quiet gasp, mumbling more to herself than anyone else “Gaius heard me.” but Arthur just stares. Merlin holds his gaze, but after a few moments, he looks back to Igraine:

“-My mother... she... she wouldn’t lie to me, nor would Gaius... this... it’s a mistake. It’s... it’s a common name, right?!”

Igraine responds in a hushed tone, though Arthur barely moves, still staring at Merlin as though he had gained a new head:

“Show me some magic, my boy.”

Merlin stutters and shakes his head, laughing incredulously before he notices her pleading face and looks to Arthur, almost for permission. The Prince gulps before nodding, just once, and Merlin lets out a deep breath. He holds his hand out in front of him, palm up, and without even needing to mutter a spell, a single flower grows; a Camelot-red Tulip, it’s petals dipped in gold.

When his eyes fade back to blue, he looks up to see the others’ reactions: Arthur is smiling softly, always eager to see Merlin’s magic, as if he had forgotten the situation at hand, but Igraine... oh, Igraine was staring at him with such wonder, tears slipping down her pale cheeks.

Merlin drops the flower without a second though and shakes his head minutely, but Igraine just nods, allowing the hand on Arthur’s shoulder to slip down to his hand so she could tug him forward, towards Merlin:

“Myrddin, my boy, my son. You came home all on your own.”

Merlin just shakes his head again and steps back:

“No. No this... this isn’t real, this is a trick, or... or something. How do we prove it? How do we know you’re not lying or some trap laid by Morgause?!”

Igraine sighs, but nods, understanding:

“Ask Gaius and your... your mother, and thank her for me, for raising you with so much love. The doorway is closing, I can feel it.-”

Her gaze moves lovingly between then two of them, and when she steps forward once more, she takes Merlin’s hand before he can move away, pulling the two of them into a tight hug:

“-I am so endlessly proud of you both, and I love you, always.”

She fades from the air, and within seconds Arthur’s arms are falling in on themselves, nothing under them to hold their weight and forceful pressure.

The Prince’s head whips towards Morgause, who until that point had been completely forgotten about:

“Bring her back!”

Her stare is fixed on a frozen Merlin, though she slowly looks to Arthur when he takes an intimidating step towards her and goes to open his mouth again:

“I can’t. The doorway closes of it’s own accord, I can’t bring her back again. But that was... unexpected. I apologise, you shouldn’t have had to find out like that.”

Arthur shakes his head angrily at her denial, but quickly refocuses and looks to Merlin, who still hasn’t moved an inch. He puts a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly until the other man looks at him; Arthur isn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but Merlin’s eyes to be filling with tears definitely wasn’t it:

“I... this can’t be real. My mother, Gaius, Kilgharrah, they all would’ve known. Why wouldn’t they tell me?”

Arthur pulls him into a hug, silently vowing to stop Merlin’s suffering as soon as he’s possibly able, that they would discover the truth no matter what. Merlin’s arms just hang limply at his sides, though he does push his face into Arthur’s neck as The prince responds:

“I... I don’t know, Merlin. Maybe they thought it would get in the way of that destiny of yours, maybe they were waiting for my... for The King to pass.-”

He pulls back, but keeps his hands on Merlin’s shoulders:

“-Lets just... get back to Camelot, and we can figure it out. We can go downstairs to talk to Kilgharrah.”

Merlin shakes his head, stepping back and wiping his sleeve over his eyes roughly before walking purposefully towards the horses:

“No, he’s the least likely to be honest, we’ll talk to Gaius. Though if any of this is true... I’m having some bloody harsh words with my... with Hunith.”

Arthur flinches slightly at the anger in Merlin’s voice, but after a quick glance to a slowly retreating Morgause, he follows him to the horses and they start the fast paced journey back to Camelot. The only words exchanged, around an hour in, were Merlin’s quiet, humourless:

“Gwaine’s never going to believe this.”

And Arthur’s responding snort of derisive amusement.

~

They manage to stay out of sight when they arrive back in the city, which is good really. Arthur’s lowly simmering rage had been reaching taller and taller heights with every pound of the horses’ hooves against the hard ground. But before he confronts his father, they need confirmation, in the form of Gaius.

They stalk quietly through the castle, using servant corridors and hidden passages to avoid being seen, but all bets are off when they reach the Physician’s chambers.

Gaius looks up with a quiet gasp when the two men burst in, locking the door behind them. Arthur’s blank stare and Merlin’s barely concealed anger force his shock and relief to morph into confusion:

“Merlin, Prince Arthur, where on Earth have you been? The King has been panicking, sending out patrol after patrol to search for you.”

Arthur’s face remains blank, and when Gaius looks to him for an answer he just moves his gaze to Merlin, allowing him to determine the pace of this much needed conversation. Merlin’s dark gaze is now fixed on the floor, though his jaw and hands are tightly clenched, and his breathing is shaky in his anger. His voice comes out lethally quiet, and Arthur can tell that it’s only a matter of time before he explodes:

“Gaius, what’s my name?”

Gaius just looks slightly taken aback, like he hasn’t quite grasped Merlin’s meaning despite its plainness:

“My boy, whatever are you-”

He’s interrupted when Merlin looks up at him sharply, his eyes blazing and his face turning slightly red:

“It’s a simple question Gaius: What’s. My. Name?-”

Gaius’ eyes flicker to Arthur in confusion, but Merlin breaks from his near frozen stature, moving with a speed that Arthur had never seen in him before to slam his hand on the table:

“No, don’t look at him, look at me. What’s my name, Gaius?!”

Gaius nods, his eyes sad as he gulps before answering quietly:

“Myrddin, but you already knew that.”

Merlin takes a deep breath and nods, his fingers tapping rhythmically, though a tad aggressively, against the table. Arthur goes to step forward to put a calming hand on his shoulder but Merlin shoots him a withering look and he stays back. Merlin’s hard stare returns to the resigned physician:

“And my parents?”

Gaius gulps again but straightens his posture, putting up a confused façade, though it’s easy to see through:

“Hunith is your-”

Merlin slams his hand on the table again, much harder this time, and a voice in the back of Arthur’s head—the one at the forefront was spitting obscenities and planning rather gruesome ways to murder his father—makes a note to check his hand later, a hit like that had likely broken something, though Merlin was clearly too furious and confused and upset to notice:

“DON’T LIE TO ME!”

Gaius is taken aback at Merlin’s bitter yell, but he softens again at the tears on his ward’s cheeks; he collapses into a chair on the other side of the table, rubbing his eyes tiredly before looking up at the distraught man:

“Uther and Igraine Pendragon. You are a year older than your mo- than Hunith led you to believe, and you are Arthur’s twin brother.-”

Arthur turns away angrily, vocalising the curses that had been playing on a loop in his mind, and Merlin nods, pushing his injured hand into the table without even realising:

“-I am so sorry, my-”

Merlin shakes his head and holds a hand up to stop him but doesn’t say anything, not pulling away this time when Arthur steps into place beside him and puts a hand on his shoulder, waving the other one aggressively at the elderly physician:

“You had no right, no right to keep this from us. I grew up being taught to hate magic, miserable and alone, and Merlin grew up hating himself, just as miserable and alone, if not more so. You had no right to take us away from each other.-”

Gaius goes to respond, but Arthur stops his excuses before they even make it past his throat:

“-No. There is no excusing this, you and my father took my brother from me, and there will be no forgiving that. I’ve known about Merlin’s magic and our entwined destinies for over a year, you’ve had every opportunity to tell us, but you didn’t. That’s not even mentioning the nature of my... our mother’s death. You are a coward, and in your cowardice you have been cruel; I will not stand for it. Where is my- where is The King?”

Gaius nods slowly, standing on almost wobbling legs before gesturing to the door:

“The King is with Sir Leon trying to figure out where to look next, they’re in the council chamber. You are right, and I am sor-”

Arthur cuts him off with a sharp gesture and a dark look, taking Merlin’s uninjured wrist and pulling him towards the door. The servant (Prince?) follows easily, unable to meet Gaius’ gaze and allowing Arthur to drag him briskly through the corridors towards the council chamber.

By the time they reach the chamber, Merlin has broken out of his stupor, wiped his tears, and pulled his wrist from Arthur’s grip, instead walking alongside him and using just as much force when they both push the doors open and stride in.

Uther and Leon both look up rapidly, startled at the sudden intrusion, but whilst Leon looks relieved and sends the two of them a small smile, Uther looks angry:

“Arthur. Where have you been? I have had search parties out looking for you. Arthur?”

Arthur doesn’t answer for a few moments, but a glance at Merlin by his side gives him the confidence boost he needs and he straightens his back, draws his sword, and stares The King right in the eyes:

“I know what you did to my mother, and I know what you... what you took from me.”

Uther stands tall, glancing to Leon briefly as he announces:

“Leave us. No one is to enter.”

Leon looks between the three other men, but doesn’t make it to his second step towards the door before Arthur has his sword pointed at his chest, though The Prince’s gaze stays on his father. Leon knows it’s less of a genuine threat and more of a way of emphasising his words, but that doesn’t stop him from taking a slight, wary step back:

“No, Sir Leon, you will stay.”

Leon glances nervously to the red-faced King, but doesn’t move. Uther looks furious at Arthur’s denial of his orders, but The Prince pays him no mind, finally turning to look at Leon with a slightly softer look in his eyes:

“Sir Leon, do you bear witness?”

Leon frowns slightly, looking between Arthur, Uther, and Merlin once again, frown deepening as he spies the unshed tears in Merlin’s eyes and the purple bruise forming over one of his hands. He finally looks back to Arthur, moving to stand to attention with one hand held over his heart and the other resting on the hilt of his sword:

“My Lord Prince Arthur Pendragon, I, Sir Leon, bear witness.”

Uther just splutters angrily, but Leon pointedly keeps his gaze on Arthur until The Prince nods at him and is the first to look away. Merlin had stayed silent the entire time, but visibly relaxes when Leon swears to stay, and that just makes the knight even more curious; this seems to be just as much about Merlin as it did Arthur’s parents.

The Prince moves his gaze—and his sword—to be pointed at The King once more, and he takes a deep breath before forcing the words from his mouth:

“You used magic, against my mother’s will, so that you could conceive. Is this true?”

Uther huffs angrily, gaze dashing to the other two men before it settles on Arthur again:

“This is preposterous, Morgause has lied to you.”

Leon is practically holding his breath at the side of the room; he can clearly tell that Arthur is moments away from striking his own father down, but does he interfere? Does he let it happen? And he still has no clue what’s bothering Merlin so much, other than the obvious pain in his hand.

Arthur takes slow steps towards Uther, inching the blade closer and closer to his throat:

“You are the one that’s lying. You started a genocide because you insisted on blaming magic for your own mistakes, and that’s not even the worst thing you did.-”

Arthur lets out an incredulous laugh, and Uther takes a step back as Leon tenses and Merlin stays blank:

“-I had a brother, a twin born with magic. You were too much of a coward to admit your mistakes but too much of a hypocrite to stick to your convictions, so you sent him away instead of killing him.-”

Uther goes pale, taking another stumbled step back as Leon’s eyes go wide, his gaze jumping to Merlin with a sudden, dreaded clarity.

(Perhaps Leon had picked up on Merlin’s magic a few months ago, and perhaps he had come to the conclusion that the younger man was the best protector Arthur could have.)

“-Do you even know his name? Mother said you would likely refuse to use it, but do you even know what it is?!”

Uther quickly regains his anger, his fury snapping into place as he gestures threateningly and thunders:

“It was an abomination! A creature of magic that destroyed your mother and almost tainted you! I should have slaughtered it where it lay-”

Merlin takes in a sudden breath at his words and Leon clenches his jaw; itching to comfort the younger man, but knowing that he wouldn’t exactly be welcomed right now. He’s meant to be here as an impartial third party.

Arthur throws his gauntlet down before Uther can finish his aggressive assertion, and Merlin gulps, moving properly for the first time since he’d entered the room. He grabs Arthur’s arm and pulls him back slightly:

“Arthur you can’t, he’s your... he’s The King.”

Arthur glances to him:

“I don’t care, he took you from me, he had no right.-”

He looks back to Uther, who is now staring at Merlin with a shocked venom. No one notices the way Leon quietly draws his sword; impartial his arse, he’d protect Arthur and Merlin to his dying breath:

“-You are the abomination, and you will pay for your crimes. Perhaps you should’ve sent Myrddin, that’s his name by the way, further afield, perhaps I’d have been more inclined to keep you alive until I found him. Pick it up.”

Uther’s gaze doesn’t move from Merlin as his face grows redder and redder. He doesn’t look down to the gauntlet, nor does he look at Arthur, nor does he notice Leon creeping closer:

“You. You foul, hellish, beast!”

Without another second’s of hesitation, he lunges forward and draws his sword all in one move. Arthur reacts too slowly, not expecting The King to attack Merlin instead of him, and Uther pushes him out of the way, swinging the sword down harshly toward Merlin’s chest before Arthur can block him. Merlin is too shocked and angry and scared and upset to even think of using his magic, so just stumbles back helplessly, falling and landing harshly on his already broken hand, yelping slightly.

Before anyone can even blink, Leon is there, stood over Merlin with blazing eyes and his sword raised. He parries the King easily, and by the time Uther has processed one of his own knights turning against him, Merlin has scrambled back, injured arm held to his chest, and Arthur has moved to stand at Leon’s side, sword raised.

Uther can only stare in furious bewilderment, but it doesn’t take him long to concede that he has been outmatched. He calls for the guards, though once they’ve spilled into the room, six in total, they stutter to a confused stop when they see The Prince and The First Knight seemingly defending a servant (a well-loved, well-known servant), from The King.

Arthur, without looking away from Uther, speaks harshly, his voice controlled and forceful and, frankly, Kingly:

“Arrest The King and escort him to his rooms. Remove all weapons and bar the windows and doors, I want him under constant guard.”

Uther screeches angrily, both at Arthur’s words and the fact that the guards make no moves to detain The Prince and the knight, like he clearly wants. Before he can actually say anything, Arthur speaks again, his voice even louder than before, first to the guards:

“NOW!-”

And then back to Uther:

“-You will either be arrested for your crimes, both against our family name and humanity as a whole, or I will kill you where you stand.”

Uther tries his best to stare Arthur down, but there really is no competing with the fire in his eyes, and it only takes one short nod from Leon for the guards to step forward and confiscate The King’s sword before they pull his arms around his back and push him towards the door. He digs his heels in and begins screeching again, though they can only make out the odd word, it’s mostly just “BETRAYAL!” and “SORCERY!” and “HOW DARE YOU!”. Arthur pulls Merlin to his feet gently, frowning at his purple wrist and knuckles before sighing and rolling his eyes, nodding to Uther and muttering, just loud enough for Merlin and Leon to hear:

“I don’t suppose you could do something about that, could you?”

Merlin looks shocked, but huffs out a gentle laugh when Arthur just raises his eyebrow in question. He looks to Uther just as the guards struggle to open the door, muttering a quiet spell under his breath, his eyes flashing golden. Leon takes in a slow breath at the obvious display of sorcery; he’d been constantly on edge since he discovered Merlin’s talent, desperately fearful that someone would find out. Thankfully, the guards are entirely focused on the task at hand.

Uther quickly goes quiet, his head drooping, and Arthur grimaces as the guards struggle to hold his sudden dead weight. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing aloud when they turn to him with questioning looks; he just nods and gestures regally for them to keep going.

Soon, the room is quiet again, only the three men remaining. Leon looks between them apprehensively but Arthur just takes a fortifying breath before focusing his attention on Merlin’s arm, holding it gently in front of him and frowning worriedly:

“I’m guessing you haven’t gotten any better at healing magic since the arrow incident?”

Merlin scoffs and rolls his eyes:

“That wasn’t my fault, you’re the one that yanked it out of my shoulder and left the damn head in. And for your information, yes actually, I’ve been practicing. But I really think we have more important things to deal with at the moment, like the fact that the council is going to freak out when they find out you had The King arrested.”

Arthur shakes his head, giving Merlin a firm look:

“Merls, I just found out that you’re my twin brother, you are the important thing right now. Heal your hand, I don’t care how long it takes. Leon will take care of the council until we get there.”

He looks pointedly to Leon, and the knight nods, clearing his throat with a confused frown as he replies:

“What... uh... what would you like me to tell them, My Lord? Before your arrival? And where would you like them?”

Arthur smiles, grateful that Leon knows to take cues from him, knows what to focus on, knows that he is being trusted:

“Take them to the Throne Room. Tell them that Uther has been forcibly removed from the throne, that I have discovered the existence of my magical twin brother, whom I intend to have announced as Crown Prince within the week, and that I plan to legalise magic.”

Merlin, already pale and shaky, flinches, starting up with a “But I don’t want-” but Arthur cuts him off with a harsh, though fond glare, looking back to Leon to see the knight’s face shocked and pale. He purses his lips, before humming thoughtfully and speaking again:

“Actually... that probably wouldn’t be for the best. Just inform them that it’s an emergency, reassure them we haven’t started a war or anything, and tell them I’ll be arriving shortly.”

Leon visibly relaxes and nods, giving Merlin a soft smile and ruffling his hair quickly before striding from the room. Merlin huffs at the affection, but Arthur can tell he’s secretly pleased and copies Leon’s fond smile. Merlin looks to him confusedly:

“Why will the council have to wait? It’ll only take a few moments to heal myself.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, nodding at Merlin’s hand pointedly and crossing his arms as if he were expecting failure. Merlin just rolls his eyes before looking down to his injury and muttering a few words, grimacing as his knuckles realign, and the bruise recedes. It doesn’t disappear completely, but the bones and deeper muscle tears have obviously repaired themselves, and Merlin looks very proud of himself as he looks back to Arthur:

“That’s the best I can be bothered to manage-”

Arthur huffs disapprovingly but knows he isn’t going to get any better than that:

“-so why are the council waiting?”

Arthur sighs, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and leading him to the door:

“Well, you look one stiff breeze away from keeling over, and I imagine you’ll want to speak to Gwaine?”

Merlin looks to him suspiciously, but allows Arthur to lead him through the castle towards where Gwaine was almost certainly pacing worriedly in his rooms:

“I thought you didn’t approve of Gwaine?”

Arthur grins wolfishly:

“Oh, I don’t, especially now that I know that you’re a Prince, and my brother, but it’s my duty as the oldest to threaten him more than I already have.”

Merlin stops suddenly in the corridor and pulls Arthur back:

“Hang on a minute you prat, first off, when have you ever threatened Gwaine? And second, who said you’re the oldest?”

Arthur’s smile just grows and he grabs Merlin’s uninjured wrist to start pulling him down the corridor again:

“Literally the day I found out he was attempting to court you, which was about a month before you figured it out by the way,-”

Merlin grumbles, but doesn’t argue:

“-and I’m the oldest because I said so, and mother said naming you was... was one of the last things she did, so you obviously came out second, idiot.”

Merlin rolls his eyes yet again, but doesn’t say anything as they come to a stop outside of Gwaine’s room. He takes a deep breath, and Arthur moves his hand up to his shoulder again, giving him a small smile and a supportive nod. 

The Warlock knocks on the door, and Gwaine opens immediately. The knight relaxes significantly when he sees that it’s the two of them back from God knows where, though he tenses again as his eyes run over them; he takes note of Merlin’s red eyes, injured wrist, and generally shaky demeanour. He also quickly catches on to the protective way Arthur is standing behind him, and the way The Prince’s loose hand shakes slightly with left over adrenaline.

Despite himself, Merlin relaxes and smiles when he sees Gwaine; with everything that had been going on he hadn’t really had a chance to think about how much he missed him, about how much he needed his support.

Gwaine pulls them into the room quickly, shutting the door behind him and turning around to see Merlin looking at him sheepishly, and Arthur staring at him with a predatory smile:

“What happened? Where have you been? Is everything ok?!”

~

End of Part 1!!

Hope y’all enjoyed this!! I probably could’ve fitted more in, but I figured this was a good point to stop. Part 2 and 3 are out (link @ top), part 4 won’t be too long!!

Drop comments and things lads, I love y’all!!

#merwaine #bbc merlin #platonic merthur #merlin and arthur are brothers #merlin and arthur are twins #twin au #igraine #igraine pendragon #uther #uther is a dick #uthers a+ parenting #uther pendragon #king uther #prince arthur #leon #sir leon #protective leon #gwaine #sir gwaine #arwen? #arthur/elyan? #part 1 #gaius #gaius fucks up #hunith #balinor #kilgharrah #the sins of the father #ygraine #ygraine pendragon

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Unlikely friends: Imagine being Toph’s cousin and befriending Azula, much to the gang’s horror and confusion as it starts to become something more...

Note: The is loosely based on the comic the search which takes place after the tv show ended

Part two here

part three here

Your pov

You’d never been exposed to Azula much. Of course you knew who she was, everyone in the four nations did, but you’d never met her face to face. You only joined the gang after Zuko was firelord and so the first time you met her was when Zuko recruited her to help find his mother.

You were at the royal palace when Zuko revealed his sister would be coming on the trip with the rest of you. The others all gasped as a girl appeared beside Zuko but you just blinked confused. The girl in front of you was your age, average to small height and honestly just looked tired and worn down. You’d heard Azula had been locked up for a year due to her mental health difficulties and you couldn’t understand how the others didn’t see this all over her.

Zuko noticed you staring at Azula and realised you’d never met before. “Ow you don’t know each other....y/n this is Azula, Azula this is y/n Toph’s cousin”. “Hmmm a Beifong so not a peasant but earth kingdom scum is still earth kingdom scum” Azula replied glancing over you. “Azula!” Zuko snapped but you just shrugged “it’s fine, nice to meet you Azula”. Azula blinked at you confused at the notion any one of her brother’s friends would ever be pleased to see her. She stared at you before moving past you. “Sorry she’s....like that” Zuko commented and you smiled “no need to apologise, i’m sure after everything she’s been through this is hard for her, tracking your mother down...I bet she’s very nervous to be seeing her again, that’s probably why she’s lashing out”. Zuko frowned “I guess, I hadn’t thought of it that way...”.

Throughout the trip you had more patience with Azula than the others because you empathised with her. Yes, she was rude and snarky but you could tell she was only doing that to get a reaction out of the people she knew hated her. You’d grown up with difficult people who liked to annoy an reaction out of you (your cousin was Toph freaking Beifong) and so you knew they usually did it when they didn’t feel welcome or good about themselves. So you never responded to Azula’s quips about you or retaliated in any way and slowly she stopped. Soon you noticed you were the only one in the group who Azula didn’t rush to attack. She largely acted like you weren’t there but you took that as a good sign. If it was just the two of you she seemed more relaxed, less guarded and you were glad you had that effect on her. You wanted her to know not everyone hated her and apparently she did. 

Obviously however Azula couldn’t just be alone with you the whole trip. She was surrounded by the gang who rightfully mistrusted and intensely disliked her. It was a stressful environment and you saw its growing mark on Azula each day...

You usually took the main night watch as you didn’t need as much sleep as the others and you’d noticed while everyone else slept soundly Azula would often jerk and mutter in her sleep endlessly. One night it was particularly bad. Azula curled up into herself and her mutterings sounded more like whimpers. You tried to ignore it and just focus on your book but after a while you couldn’t. So you approached her slowly and realised she must be having a particularly bad nightmare. Azula” you called trying to wake her up. When the girl didn’t respond you walked closer and knelt down beside her “Azula?” you called shaking her slightly. Azula jolted awake suddenly, sitting up so fast she almost headbutted you. She flinched away from you, fire at her fingertips before she blinked “ow it’s just you, what were you doing leaning over me?”. “You were having a nightmare I was trying to wake you” you replied and Azula glared “impossible nightmares are for weak people and children”. You laughed “no they’re not! Everyone gets nightmares, it’s not something you can control and it certainly doesn’t mean you’re weak”. Azula huffed sitting up and pulled her legs into her chest “well either way I wasn’t having one okay?”. You nodded your head raising your hands in surrender “fine”. Silence settled and you looked at her “well i’m going to go sit back by the fire, you can join me if you want. It’d be nice to have some company”. Azula huffed “no thank you” she said sarcastically and you shrugged “suit yourself but the invite is there”.

You sat down by the fire and returned to your book. You heard Azula shuffling around and after a few minutes saw her stand up and head towards you. You pretended not to notice as Azula got closer and only looked up when she reached the campfire. “Since you rudely woke me up and I can’t get back to sleep I’ve decided to sit here, there’s no point just laying on the floor”. You nodded your head “that makes sense” and smiled slightly. Azula looked down embarrassed but seemed grateful you didn’t push it. You sat in comfortable silence, only talking fleetingly and it was calm and neutral. Azula looked the most relaxed and normal you’d ever seen her and sure enough she soon fell back to sleep. You smiled and grabbed a blanket laying it over her. She may be difficult but difficult people were that way because they were hurting. You could sense that in Azula and didn’t want to cause her any more harm. You thought Azula could sense your intentions to her were different than the other’s and that’s why she behaved differently with you. Every time you interacted you saw more of Azula, the healthy happier Azula, but all the walls went back up as soon as the others were around. It upset you Azula didn’t feel comfortable with the others but at least feeling comfortable with one person was a start.

3 days later

You were finally only one day away from reaching the village Zuko’s mom was in and you all sat around discussing what to do next. Well apart from Azula, she was always made to stand away when you discussed plans, nobody forced her to but she felt unwelcomed so would usually go sulk out of earshot. It was decided you’d make the journey the next morning rather than arriving in the middle of the night. You nodded along with the plans before standing up and heading off in Azula’s direction “okay i’ll go let her know”. “Let who know?” Katara asked and you paused “Azula, she doesn’t know the plan”. “So?” Zuko asked and you hesitated “well shouldn’t we tell her....i mean she’s a part of the group now, she deserves to know what we’re dragging her into”. Aang nodded, Toph and Sokka shrugged but Katara and Zuko didn’t look convinced. “Fine i guess” Zuko shrugged and you nodded, going to get Azula from her stance by the woods. The gang all watching on confused. 

The next day

You reached Ursa’s village the next day and found her home easily. She was thrilled to see her children again and the town threw a large party to celebrate the return of Ursa’s son the fire lord. You all attended and the whole gang looked so happy to finally be off the road and in a house, Zuko especially was in high spirits. He was beaming, a grin spread from ear to ear and you smiled to see he hadn’t left his mother’s side since he’d found her again. You saw Zuko’s family, his mom, new little sister Kiyi and stepdad all sat together and paused....they looked like a perfect happy family but someone was missing. You glanced around and saw Azula was outside, as far away from the happy occasion as she could get and was staring intensely at the surrounding scenery. You made your way outside and Azula jumped. “Only me” you said holding up a hand and Azula lowered her hands but her shoulders were still tensed “what do you want?”. “Nothing” you shrugged “just wanted to see if you were okay”. “Of course i’m okay” Azula snapped and you frowned. Over the period you’d spent travelling you’d seen Azula improve, she was less jumpy and agitated but the second you’d reached her mother’s town she was right back at square one. Her mother had been the reason for her initial mental breakdown and you were worried something like this could set her over the edge again. You knew Azula wasn’t one for small talk but wanted her to feel less alone so started talking to her. “You know I haven’t seen my family in 5 years?”. Azula didn’t attack you so you carried on. “They sent me to go live with Toph’s parents when I was 12 and I haven’t seen them since. To be honest it wasn’t a big move I was at Toph’s all the time but still to make it permanent... My father...he worked a lot so I never saw him even when I was home but as for my other family. My mom and I never saw eye to eye on anything, she hated all my decisions and honestly I think she was glad when I left...it gave her more time to focus on my brothers. Her favourites, she’s always preferred my brothers to me just because they’ll carry on the name or whatever”. You trailed off and Azula raised an eyebrow “are you actually trying to bond with me over mommy issues?”. You paused and rushed to explain you weren’t trying anything when you saw Azula had a slight smirk on her face and so you smiled. “Why not?” you asked “my point is, my parents were never there for me and I turned out fine! They only have as much power over you as you let them. Azula tutted “you should save the philosophy for Aang y/n”. You smiled “I probably should but all i’m saying is you’re not a product of what they’ve done to you unless you let yourself be, unless you hold onto that anger. I’ve forgiven my mother and father for how they treated me”. Azula spun on you and you jumped to see how angry she suddenly looked. “You expect me to believe after all she did to you, you forgave her? How stupid do you think I am?”. “I have” you said confused “I hold no anger towards my mother anymore”. “Well you should” Azula commented “she doesn’t deserve anything less”. You shrugged “maybe so but that anger was causing me way more harm than it was her”. Azula didn’t respond and you frowned. “I haven’t forgotten what she...what all my family did to me and I haven’t let them off for it, I set boundaries and refuse to let them treat me that way anymore...but I also don’t fixate over what happened, it happened, it was in the past and that’s where it should stay...that’s where I make it stay, I won’t let it take up any more of my time”. Silence settled and as time stretched on you stopped expecting a reply. That was fine with you, you just hoped any part of what you’d said had made Azula feel a little better. “I’m cold so i’m going to head back inside, you could come with me? I hate entering parties alone” you tried to joke but Azula didn’t glance at you. You shrugged and started back inside when Azula sighed and appeared beside you “come on then, if I must hold your hand with everything”. You grinned as you realised this was Azula’s way of saying she’d come back to the party with you. “But we’re getting food” Azula told you “i’m starving, that food Sokka hands out is awful”. You grinned as you walked in together “blubbered seal jerky, it is awful but it does sustain you”, Azula wrinkled her nose in disgust and you laughed. “I never figured you a picky eater”. “I’m not” Azula said defiantly “but i refuse to eat any animal’s blubber” she commented piling a plate with food. Not wanting to make her eat alone you copied her and filled a plate too. You found a table near the outskirts of the party and sat down together. Azula tucked into her food and you were surprised at her appetite though you knew you shouldn’t be. The girl was a machine of muscle and strength, of course she ate a lot. Still you watched impressed as Azula cleared her plate "you were hungry" you grinned and Azula smirked "why do you never believe me?". "I don’t know maybe your whole history with manipulation?". Azula’s smirk vanished and you worried you’d gone too far when she laughed. It was odd seeing her face contort into a laugh and her shoulders shake but a good weird. You liked seeing it and felt very proud you’d made the fearsome and dreadful Azula laugh. So proud you didn’t even notice that your and Azula’s table was getting attention.

Ursa’s POV

Ursa’s head shot up as she heard a vaguely familiar but sorely missed sound and her eyes landed on Azula almost instantly. Azula was laughing! She was smiling at a friend and appeared happy. Joy filled Ursa’s heart and she felt her eyes tear up to see her daughter happy. "Mother?" Zuko asked and she jumped. "Are you okay?" Zuko asked and she nodded "it’s just your sister...". "What has she done now?" Zuko snapped and Ursa shook her head "nothing! I just, i know i showed favourites and i always regretted leaving you both, i worried it would impact you both beyond repair especially Azula but then i saw her smiling...". Zuko followed his mothers gaze not believing her until he saw Azula beside you. His mother was right, Azula was actually smiling...well her form of a smile which was more of an upturned lip but still for Azula that was insane. "Who is her friend?" Ursa asked "she seems lovely". "Y/n" Zuko said confused "i didn’t even know they were friends" he was ashamed to admit. Ursa noticed and patted his back "i know things can’t have been easy and i’m sorry for my part in that but things can only get better now, for all of us" she said glancing back to Azula and Zuko nodded "apparently so".

Your POV

After the party was finished you were heading to your shared room with Toph when Katara appeared "y/n can we talk?". You shrugged and motioned for her to follow you into the room. She did and once inside you turned to her expectantly. "What are you doing are you insane!" she burst. You blinked "come again?". "Since when are you friends with Azula! Why would you want to be? What is wrong with you?". You took in the comments and breathed "erm...i guess we’ve become friends over the journey, i have spent the most time with her, i didn’t try to become friends with her i just talked to her and treated her like a human and it kind of just happened. As for what’s wrong with me....how long have you got?". Toph laughed and Katara glared "y/n this isn’t funny, don’t you remember all she’s done!". You rolled your eyes "ow yeah all water under the bridge...of course i haven’t forgotten what she's done but i have seen enough of her to know she’s just as broken as Zuko, she’s human Katara and she deserves the decency of being treated like one". Katara tutted "i don’t remember seeing an inch of humanity in her". "Well i’m sure if you start really looking at her you'll find it" you said sharply "now I’m going to bed so goodnight" and you turned away from the water bender letting her know this conversation was over.

Mai’s POV After Ursa had been found everyone returned to the fire nation to celebrate. Zuko was the happiest Mai had ever seen him but he wasn’t the only one who returned from the journey oddly happy. Thanks to her help Azula hadn’t been locked back up upon her return and she was freely roaming the palace. Old habits die hard and Mai found herself watching the girl who’d tormented her through her childhood and was surprised by what she saw. Azula had made a friend and one that actually seemed to genuinely like her judging by your smile. "So...Azula and y/n seem to get on" Mai commented and Zuko nodded amazed that this friendship had formed and that Azula was here at the party at all. He figured knowing their mother would be here she’d have run and hidden but here she was. "They seem quite close" Mai carried on "are they...is it more than a friendship?". Zuko paused "what?". Ty lee nodded "i was thinking the same thing, notice how Azula hardly looks away from her?". Mai nodded and Zuko frowned, clearly lost in the conversation. "I don’t know...i don’t think so" he babbled. Mai rolled her eyes at how clueless Zuko was "well is y/n or has y/n ever dated anyone to your knowledge". "No..." Zuko frowned. "They’re so dating" Ty lee grinned and Zuko frowned "are you sure? I mean my sister...date anyone?". Mai shook her head "you know she is a human being right Zuko? And an attractive one at that, i wouldn’t be surprised if she and y/n kindled something it's actually rather...sweet".

 Azula’s POV

Azula had only agreed to come to this party because you were going to be here and also because she’d been assured her mother wouldn’t try anything with her. Still Azula had been apprehensive to attend and the second you left her side her suspicions were confirmed. She was ambushed.  "Sooooo" Azula heard and turned to see an old friend? Ex friend? She still wasn’t sure but either way there was Ty lee grinning her. "Ty lee" she nodded at her curtly. "It’s good to see you" Ty lee smiled "i noticed you and y/n seem close". Azula raised an eyebrow, Ty lee was never good at being subtle and clearly meant something more with those words. "If you’re worried she’s beating you in the rankings of friendship you needn’t worry, you dropped right out of there the minute you betrayed me". Ty lee paused and Azula smirked "your face, you always were too easy to fool". Ty lee laughed nervously, Azula knew how to joke now?  "But seriously what’s up with you and y/n? Is it friends....is it more?". Azula paused "more?". "Well you guys just seemed very close" Ty lee shrugged "almost couple-y". Azula paused, this was a new perspective for her, she hadn’t even thought about her friendship with you or that it could be something more....now the idea was there she realised it wasn’t such a bad one.  She liked you, she thought you were nice to be around and funny. Not to mention you were beautiful and athletic. Azula thought it over while Ty lee almost burst. "So?" Ty lee finally asked and Azula paused. She didn’t want Ty lee to go around telling people before she even knew what she wanted so she shook her head "me and y/n are just friends". Ty lee looked disappointed "ow...well i’m still glad you’ve got such a good friend, you look a lot happier than i’ve ever seen you" Ty lee smiled and Azula realised she was. Even here at the palace where she had so many bad memories it wasn’t as bad anymore. Azula suspected a lot of that was because of you and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. How hadn’t she worked this out sooner? 

A few days later

All good things had to come to an end. With the mission a success the avatar and all his friends were leaving the fire nation soon and Azula knew you were planning on leaving too. You were going to help the little earth bender with her school. Azula knew Toph was the person you cared most about in the world so of course you’d want to go with her but part of her wished you wouldn’t. She wished you had nothing to pull you away from her.

She’d heard from Zuko you were leaving soon and so she debated back and forth if she should come see you to say goodbye or just let you go. As the time trickled away and the day of your departure arrived she decided to just swallow her pride and come and find you. She found you in your room in the palace doing some very late packing. You had apparently just finished as she found you lining up your luggage for the trip. “Azula” you said happily spotting her and she couldn’t help but smile “hi y/n”. “Hello” you smiled “how are you?”. “I’m good, and you?”. “Great” you smiled “we’re all set to leave soon! I can’t wait to get home”. Azula nodded “I can imagine” and stared at the floor. “Is everything okay?” you asked and Azula tensed. “Everything’s fine I just wanted to say goodbye”  Azula shrugged meeting your eye and smiling slightly. She thought she’d been pretty convincing but apparently not.

Your POV

"Azula what’s wrong? I can tell somethings bothering you" you said frowning and came to stand closer to her. You could tell she was nervous, something you’d rarely seen on the firebender’s face. "I...i was just wondering when you were coming to the fire nation again?". You paused "well i’m not sure honestly, i guess whenever the gang comes again, why have you got a big festival coming up or something?". Azula shook her head "no we don’t...". She sounded disappointed and an idea formed in your head, did Azula not want you to go? "The gang might be too busy to just swing by but that doesn’t mean i can’t" you said testing the water and saw Azula’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush slightly. "I think that would be nice" she said looking down and you smiled softly. Azula wanted you around! "Yeah?" you asked and Azula nodded "i guess i’ve become...accustomed to your presence" she said.

You almost laughed that this was what Azula thought was an honest compliment. No, Azula could do better than that so you prompted her.

"Accustomed to my presence?" you asked raising an eyebrow and Azula searched for words before sighing. "I like being around you" she shrugged going red "so you coming back to the fire nation wouldn’t be a bad thing i guess". You grinned "you’d cope with that idea?". Azula nodded her head still blushing "i would". You laughed and couldn’t stop smiling at Azula’s blush. "Well in that case i’d be more than happy to have regular visits, not to mention you can come visit me and Toph at her school anytime you want". "I can?" Azula asked and you nodded "of course! You think i’d leave you all alone with these firebenders and no escape route". Azula smiled at you, a genuine happy smile and nodded her head "that’s...thank you, i’m sure i’ll be taking you up on that offer frequently". "As much as you want" you said taking her hand "i mean it Azula, even if it’s just for a few hours or a night, you’re always welcome with me". Azula stared at you and wondered again how she hadn’t realised she liked you before. It was so obvious to her now, she only hoped it wasn’t so obvious to you but judging by the fact she had a permanent blush this whole time she wasn’t too sure about that. Azula nodded "thank you y/n" and you smiled "no problem". You carried on looking at her before blushing at your close proximity and stepped away. "So i best be going but expect many letters". Azula chucked and you shrugged "what? I’m not kidding? I love writing letters, you will receive many from me, once a day if you’re lucky". Azula smiled "i promise to reply to every single one" and you grinned "you better". You started towards the door and stopped to look back at her. "I’ve really enjoyed our time together and I just wanted you to know...i think you’re pretty amazing”. Azula blushed "thank you....you’re also very good". You chuckled at her awkward reply and smiled "all i meant was, don’t let anyone tell you you’re not good enough, from where i’m standing...that’s not the case at all, in any way". Azula’s face turned an even deeper shade of red and you smiled. "Anyway i’ll go now, bye Azula". "Bye y/n" she managed and with a last smile you were gone. Azula immediately felt a pang of loneliness but then thought of what you’d do. She took a few deep breaths and repeated what you’d told her. She was good enough, she was more than good enough, she didn’t need to be insecure or cruel. She opened her eyes, let out a sigh and turned to her daily tasks. She'd see you again soon enough and only 13 hours until your promised daily letter, Azula could wait that long.

____

I absolutely love this idea of Azula finding someone she can be open and vulnerable with and might make this into a 3 part series??

#azula #azula imagine #azula x reader #team avatar #atla #avatar imagine #atla imagine #atla azula #avatar azula #princess azula #zuko #aang #katara #toph #sokka #toph beifong #huan beifong #firelord zuko #atla the search #ursa #atla zuko #atla toph #atla katara #mai #ty lee #fire nation #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last air bender imagine

[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part IX

Word Count: 3,087 Warnings: PTSD. Children. Fluff. Angst. Emotions. Dialogue heavy bullshit. Author's Note: Welp... this is it, y'all. I posted the first chapter of this on March 4, 2021, and it's coming to a close today on April 5, 2021, and I'm... a goddamn mess. I'm not ready to let these characters go, both the TF boys and my own character in Leah. I really appreciate all your kindness and encouragement throughout writing this, my whole heart belongs to you. Thank you, I hope you love this as much as I love you.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

Her room is painted like a sunrise. He remembers the first time he went up there, like it was the first breath he ever took. All rising pinks and melting blues.

He wanted her to feel that freedom from the beginning.

Leah’s hands climb his back, a kiss pressed to the hot skin between his shoulder blades as he dips to pluck his peaceful little girl out of slumber.

“Baby, let her sleep.”

But he’s shaking his head, careful with hers in his hand, “she can sleep later, I need her with me now.”

“Hmm,” she hums, turning him to guide him back to their bedroom, “keep that enthusiasm.”  

Their shuffle is quiet, Luna’s big eyes slipping back to sleep nestled into her fathers shoulder.

He’s been home for over half a year and as he crawls back into bed, baby and wife clinging to him, part of him still can’t believe it. That after everything he told her, she let him stay. That, like tonight, she’s soothed the new nightmares like the old. That he celebrated Christmas with them, Luna’s first.

That he watched her lift herself up and take her first steps. That after all he had done, those first steps were towards him.

That he helped blow out the candles that he helped light, on the cake he helped make for the little girl who has her daddy’s eyes. His dimple. His smile.

One hand splayed across each of their backs, he’s talking to Leah but directing it at Luna when her bright brown eyes open again to find his.

“Hi, baby,” he whispers, Leah’s soft hand falling on his under her small back, “I’m sorry that mama and papa woke you up.”

She reaches a tiny hand up to his face and he melts into the small touch of her, his heart swelling at the unbelievable luck he has in chances granted again and again when a little, “papa,” tumbles forward in the softly lit room.

He feels Leah jump and his eyes snap to hers before they both fall back to Luna, just over one year.

“She just sa—“

“Say it again, baby,” Leah coos, tears spilling over Frankie’s eyes.

She doesn’t understand but as she grabs for him, the small voice repeats, “papa,” and he didn’t know his heart could feel so full despite all the compounding moments of fullness she’s brought to him. That they both have.

He bites his lip while looking into Leah’s glassy eyes and knows that her heart is just as swollen in this moment and all the others.

“The next one’s first word will be mama,” his hand finds the small swell of her lower belly, “I promise.” —————

She presses a coffee cup into his hand before taking a seat across from him on the living room floor, baby toys and blankets strewn across the space between them.

“What happened?”  

He takes a deep breath, finding the words he spoke out loud to his team in Lorea’s mansion, “A serious fuck up.”

“I figured that much, Francisco, but what happened?”

So he tells her and she lets him.

He tells her about the seventeen grand of Santi’s own money. How he promised himself no live fire and let himself and his desperation to give her and Luna and himself the best lead him into shattering his soul again. Ripping it up as life drained from the eyes of his fellow human beings and how he didn’t even have the protection of a flag on his shoulder to ease a semblance of that pain. How even if they were bad guys, they weren’t his bad guys to worry about.

He tells her about the helicopter crash, the result of his own greed for the money and for a lack of conflict led to more loss and conflict. How he doesn’t know if he’s the one who fired first on that village but he knows he fired, an automatic weapon slung across his shoulders as easily as the diaper bag he carries through the grocery store for her.

He tells her about the crumbling mountainside, how all he saw at the bottom looking down was himself never coming home to his girls. How that’s when something within him finally snapped, when he and Will silently decided to take the reigns from Tom and Santi’s hands.

He tells her about the fire, burning hundreds of thousands of dollars to keep warm in the freezing air that wrapped around the Andes. About the gunfire that followed them through the rocks in the morning sun.

About standing over Tom’s dead body, the relief and guilt crashing inside him like a warm front meeting a cold one. How he thinks he’ll feel those both every day that he wakes because, unlike the survivor’s guilt easing through you on active duty at the knowledge that this just happens sometimes, this time was different.

He tells her that, after all of that, he threw millions of dollars down a snowy ravine in the middle of Peru where no one would ever see it again, not even his girls who needed it so much because he realized it wouldn’t be fucking worth it for them to have it if it meant not coming home.

He tells her how he almost shot that kid in the jungle. How he would’ve shot every kid standing between him and the boat to get home to his own.

He tells her that he thinks, at the end of it all, Santiago and his plan ended up doing more damage to that country than not.

She listens intently, focused wholly on him. Her face never breaks but he can see the cogs turning behind her eyes, trying to take it all in. Trying to understand.

“I understand if you want me to leave, if you never want to see me again,” he reaches out for her hand, a shiver of shock running through his spine when she doesn’t pull away from him.

Blinking as the words catch up with her, her head shakes, “I just got you back, Francisco, you promised me you wouldn’t leave again so why the fuck do you think I want you to go now?”

“Because what I did is unforgiv—“

“It’s not, there are terrible men in this world who do worse everyday,” he sees the slight sheen of tears coat her lashes, “and you helped stop one of them.”

“There will be others to take his place,” he says around a sip of his drink, his coffee gone cold in the spaces between all his words.

Her hand gives a squeeze to the one it holds, “there will always be others to take his place.”

His breathing evens out, anchored in his chest by a warmth he doesn’t deserve, “there's something else you need to know.”

He tells her about the five million dollars they were able to make it to the boat with, “we signed it all over to Molly and the girls. Will and Benny and I, we decided to do so while Santi was sleeping. We figured, ya know, at least we were coming home. It wasn’t really money we were losing since it was never ours to begin with, Tom’s family lost everything and they didn’t even know it.”

The tears do come now, streams running down his face, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how close you came to losing everything and not even knowing it too.”

His stunted words around the hiccups in his throat draw Luna’s attention, her babbles reaching out to him the way she tried to soothe Leah’s over the weeks prior. Their attention is on her now, eyes wide as she lifts herself with the couch for leverage.

She toddles one step towards his still shaking body before tumbling forward, his hands dropping the now empty coffee cup and Leah’s hand to catch her.

He pulls her small body close, hiding his face in the crook of her neck to inhale the scent of baby lotion. As she giggles in his ear, he looks up to Leah’s soft face, “the boys and I still took three hundred thousand.” —————

“You're fucking insane,” Deana doesn’t quite whisper into Leah’s ear, “a whole ass baby with another one barely even a year old, have you heard of a condom?”

“How many mimosas did you have already, D?”

Kristyn struggles with her key in the door, a large bag in hand, “judging by the slight slur, I’m going with about three so far.”

“Fuck off, K,” she points, turning back to Leah, “I'm just saying that if that big goofy idiot husband of yours goes on another of his boy’s trips, I will kill him this time.”

Her fingers are still quoting around the air as the threat falls around them, Frankie’s attention at the other end of the room grabbed away from the pureed carrots of Luna’s lunch.

“Well,” Kristyn interjects, holding the bag forward, “that’s why I come bearing the gift of one Benjamin Miller, he couldn’t be here because of a boy’s trip.”

“What do you mean?”

Leah looks back at Frankie, his eyes now turned to the conversation. She sees the pain and confusion there, he didn’t know.

Kristyn follows Leah’s gaze before looking back at the older sister in front of her, “he promised me this was his last one and he’s sorry it had to take place during your baby shower but,“ she holds the bag out again, “he says you’ll like this one.”

“It's not a shower,” Leah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kristyn interjects, “a sprinkle. Whatever.”

“It’s not even that since, ya know,” she looks down at the tiny bundle in her arms, “he's already here.”

“A birthday present then,” she beams, “Benny says he’ll set it up when he gets home.”

Frankie’s laughter finds them now, choking around the baby food he’s trying to convince his stubborn daughter of—she’s not and she’s learned how to voice that disgust with all thanks given to her Uncle Benny.

“Baby, it’s another military surveillance camera.”

Kristyn laughs, “yeah, our whole house is strung up with them at this point but they come in handy to watch the neighbors since I’m nosy.”

“When did they leave?” His voice is small, a slight worry behind it.

Kristyn lets out a breath, “about four hours ago, he made me promise not to tell you until he was gone.”

He just nods his head, a silent clock beginning to tick in his brain. —————

It’s been two weeks since he heard from Ben or Will.

The boys have been here day in and day out since they came home last year, always were before that and even more so now that all they truly had was each other and the families they were making with and around each other.

Benny ran through Kristyn’s apartment complex screaming her name so loud as he started to bang on her door that he was met with a baseball bat. Now that idiot was going to be his brother because the sight she was met with was one of Benjamin Miller on his knees with a ring in his hands.

They gave them space with the baby’s arrival, small and short visits until Leah felt ready to have them all over again. He spoke to them that morning as he shaved the night’s stubble away, they talked like they were coming by and how they couldn’t get enough of their new nephew. How they were getting him the best present.

Frankie runs his forefinger and thumb along his mustache now, the compromise of facial hair he settled on. He didn’t want his full and sparse beard but he also felt lighter at the way Leah laughed into him with every brush of his lips.

He’s pacing the living room, bouncing the baby as Leah and Luna nap upstairs. There's only silence and the soft gurgling of a newborn when the quiet knock comes.

Already close to the entryway, he closes the distance and whispers a silent prayer to himself. A prayer that this isn’t bad news. That this is Will or Benny, not using their keys out of courtesy to the newness of little life inside his home.

He opens the door and is met with the tired eyes of Santiago Garcia.

“Hey, Frank,” he says. All bravado of his being seeped from him and replaced with, what sounds like, apology.

He adjusts his son in his hold, ushering the shorter man in so the warmth of the house doesn’t keep seeping out, “I thought you were in Australia.”

“Yeah, well,” he turns to face Frankie again as the door closes, “I make some really shit decisions sometimes.”

Frankie scoffs, half a laugh hidden in the sound. He’s not wrong but he’s not exactly right either.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He’s walked through to the kitchen, the shorter man falling in pace beside him, “we’re a dry household right now with the baby and my therapy bu—“

“Nah, Fis-Frank,” he stutters, “just came to talk to you. And Leah. She around?”

“She’s resting but I can pass along a message if I like it.”

Santi reaches into the leather folder he always carries around and produces a booklet, the one from the lawyer in St. John’s.

But different, a different cover and date, a different name stamped across the front.

“The boys sent me to give you this alone, said we needed to talk about a few more things than just this. Said I needed to apologize to you and to your wife, that I owed you that for so much but especially roping you into that shit last year.”

“Water under the bridge,” Frankie replies softly, changing direction to move through to the living room, “I gave up on an apology a long time ago and Leah never expected one, but nobody’s mad at you.”

Frankie carries the bassinet into sight from the kitchen before walking back, “what is this, Pope?”

“It’s your cut, we went back.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re stupid and greedy and we fucked ourselves up getting it in the first place so we figured we’d go back and we figured we fucking owed you.”

Frankie squints at the shorter man, searching his eyes for the hint of a joke he’s not laughing at. There is none. His cold brown stare is dead serious.

“This is my apology to you, Fran—“

“Frankie,” Leah’s voice filters into the room, he can hear her sleepy shuffle as she pads across the carpet now, “did you feed Santiago while I was asleep or should I?”

“I fed him, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

He looks back at the man who helped shape his life, tears welling in his eyes, and hears Leah talking about ordering Chinese for dinner as she crosses the threshold but he doesn’t hear her. He can’t hear anything over the squeeze around his midsection, Santi’s quiet strength taking all of his air and senses.

He lets go as quickly as he grabbed him, Leah’s presence heavy in the room now and he crosses the room to gather her in his arms, a kiss pressed to each cheek and then her hair. He’s careful not to hug as hard as he had Frankie, conscious of her still healing body.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between them, “for everything I’ve done and everything I wasn’t around for.”

She’s trying to catch her breath, trying not to cry herself, “it's oka—“

“I should’ve been here for you guys.”

Her small hand comes up to pat the curls, a little more gray than a year ago, “you are now.”

He pulls away from her, a hitch in his voice as he says, “can I hold him?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “but you gotta wash your face and hands, no tears or snot on my baby.”

He mumbles to himself about how that makes sense as he moves to the sink, fumbling over the soap in the holder as he shakes with nerves.

She makes her way across the kitchen, wrapping her still sleepy being around that of her wide awake husband. The low lying winter sun is filtering through the windows, bathing everything in soft, warm light.

She sees the golden cover of the booklet on the counter and taps it, “what's this?”

Daylight Family Trust is stamped across in big bold words.

“That was the boy’s trip,” he whispers, “that’s our cut.”

He watches her as she slowly reaches for the document, the one that explains how this all works and looks between the men.

“How much?”

Santi rips a paper towel from the roll, “about thirty-five million.”

Frankie holds her as her knees start to give out but she’s still looking at Santi, she’s still looking for the joke he never made.

“Daylight's your call sign, you know,” he says cooly, “all the wives get one too, did he ever tell you?”

She shakes her head, looking at her husband now and thinking of all the times that very word fell from his lips.

“On our last real deployment,” Pope continues, “he was flying as the sun was setting and the sky was pure gold over the desert—“

Frankie’s eyes never leave hers, arms tight around her now.

“—he said it reminded him of the way the gold flakes in your eyes reflect the sunlight back at him, he called you Daylight until he got home and shed the callsigns altogether.”

“Frankie?”

He presses his lips into her forehead, his hand a heavy weight on her lower back that says, I’m right here.

“Your daughter has the same golden flakes in her eyes, like you, Daylight.”

Frankie runs his thumb along the swell of her cheek, "all I wanted to do last year was get home to you both, all I wanted was to make it right and see that reflection of light back at me through you both again.”

He leans down to softly press his lips to hers before nuzzling his nose into her hair, “our son has them too, the same gold in his eyes, it was the first thing I said to Ben when I walked out of the delivery room.”

"It was the first thing they said to me," Santiago says, "when they got off the plane." 

“Like me?” Her voice is soft, the heaviness of sleep still clinging to her limbs.

“Mmhmm,” Frankie hums, “like Daylight.”

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#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #francisco morales fanfiction #francisco catfish morales #i believe in francisco morales supremacy #santiago garcia #santiago pope garcia #santiago 'pope' garcia #william 'ironhead' miller #william miller #will miller #benny miller #benjamin miller #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #ofc #oc #original character #original female character #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Failed

Thorns & Jasmine

In which Caldyn has a great plan to escape... in theory. It doesn’t end well.

Warnings: Captivity, escape attempt, broken bones mention, stabby stabby, uh, I mean, knives I guess, perhaps some slight fantasy racism, blood (it’s still not real blood)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Caldyn was lying on his back, trying to keep his breaths calm. The ground was soft, but his torn back was on fire, pulsing with pain every time he shifted, every time he winced, every time he breathed. He had spent the night on his side, which had been bearable, but now he was waiting. Listening. His eyes were closed and he had to fight the urge to let them flutter open, for just one moment. What if they were already here, what if he hadn’t heard their steps, what if they were waiting, what if...

Digging his fingers into the moss, he tried to distract himself. He had to get out, no matter what. He had to at least try. His plan was weak, and stupid, and desperate, but it was the only plan he had managed to come up with. He would wait. Wait for Craig to come back, or whoever else would turn up next to hurt him.

He waited.

And waited.

Caldyn didn’t know how much time passed. He didn’t dare to open his eyes, he didn’t dare to move, he didn’t dare to think about what would happen if his attempt failed. He tried to remember his mentor’s lessons, his warm, calm voice, citing ways to remember the stars, to remember the names of the human lands, telling their stories and legends. Now he wished he had paid more attention, trying to recall the constellations of the night sky.

A few times he thought he heard steps, but either he had imagined them, or they didn’t come close. Caldyn tried to recall another story, but he couldn’t hold on to his thoughts. His mind wandered back to Breannan and a tear ran down his temple as he wondered if his mentor would notice that he was gone. It had been too long since the last time he had visited him, and even before that, his visits had grown further and further apart. Perhaps Breannan wouldn’t even miss him.

If Gawyn was truly lost, who else would even notice? He didn’t have that many friends, just lots of acquaintances, most of them healers like him. The kind you couldn’t speak to for a month or two and then pick up seamlessly where you left off. Unless someone in the village he and Gawyn lived in would be in dire need of a healer, it was unlikely that anyone would notice he was gone. And just as unlikely that anyone would figure out what had happened to him, would come to rescue him. He had to get out himself.

Again he heard steps, but this time, they came closer. It seemed to be one pair of feet only. The realization quickened his breaths and he tried to calm down, to breathe slowly, to relax. They stopped, then the familiar rustling of the branches of his cage moving sounded. Caldyn forced himself not to react.

“Time to wake up!”

He recognized Craig’s voice and couldn’t suppress a small wince. He hoped the Ceodh hadn’t noticed. It didn’t seem like he had.

“I’ll wake you up, don’t worry.”

A moment of silence followed, then Caldyn heard the whizzing of the whip. There wasn’t enough time for his fear to take over. The lash came down on his chest, leaving a burning trail, and Caldyn jolted up. His back hurt, his legs were agony, but that didn’t matter, he put the pain into his scream as he grabbed the whip, wrapped it around his left arm and pulled, hard. Craig was too startled to react, to let go of the whip, and stumbled towards him. Caldyn pulled again and his right hand sprung forwards, grabbing Craig’s wrist. He dragged him down, pushing him to the side, towards the edge of the cage. Again Craig was wearing armor, Caldyn’s fingers could only feel leather, but armor couldn’t cover his whole body. His head was free, as were his feet and parts of his back. Caldyn couldn’t just kill him, though, if he wanted to get out of here, he needed to heal himself.

Instead of draining his life force right away, he reached for Craig’s head, smashing it against the bars of his cage. It made his stomach turn, seeing the bark at the Ceodh’s cheek rip on the thorns, feeling golden sap stick to his fingers as he smashed Craig’s head against the bars, again and again. He didn’t stop. It was Craig or him.

When the light in Craig’s yellow eyes started to fade, Caldyn slowed down. He pressed him against the bars, resting his hand on Craig’s cheek, and started to pull. It felt wrong, so horribly wrong, life force not freely shared but ripped apart, unwilling to leave the body it belonged to. It moved over to him sluggishly, almost willfully resisting his efforts. This time he soaked it up and it felt even worse. It didn’t matter. It was Craig or him.

He didn’t know how much time he’d have, how much energy he could take, how long he’d have to heal himself. He needed to heal his legs, then he could run. He had to hurry, had to drain enough energy, had to kill Craig and start.

He hadn’t heard the steps, he didn’t see the kick coming. Something hit his head, turning his vision black. Then he was grabbed, dragged off Craig and thrown to the ground. The impact drove the air out of his lungs and his broken knee twisting swept all thoughts out of his mind. Through the fog in his head he felt his wrists being bound to the cage again, then pain exploded in his hip. He screamed, tried to curl up, to get away, but a hand grabbed his broken thigh, making his vision fade again, just as it had started to return. It held him in place as new pain spread across his side, burning and tearing him apart. He could barely pull enough air into his lungs to scream.

Craig’s voice reached his ears as if from far away.

“You.”

Another stab, splintering his bark along his side.

“Will.”

Another one, sinking in deep, so deep Caldyn wasn’t sure if it hadn’t pierced his lung. He couldn’t breathe.

“Regret.”

This one was lower, setting his insides ablaze. As the dagger was pulled out, Caldyn’s head started to spin, blotches of white breaking through the darkness before his eyes.

“This.”

With the last word, the blade was pushed so deep into his shoulder, the hilt bruised his bark. He screamed, burning inside and out, the panic taking over his mind, drowning out every other thought.

He would die.

Craig would kill him.

  “Stop!”

This one word cut through the air, making Craig freeze and Caldyn sob. He couldn’t sense the terror Firethorn’s voice usually caused, caught in his own pain.

“I said stop. Step back.”

Craig obeyed and got up, moving away. Caldyn couldn’t even feel relief. He was shaking, frozen to the core. He didn’t know how bad his injuries were, he just knew they were bad. Perhaps bad enough to kill him. A weak sob escaped his lips at the thought. He didn’t want to die.

“That was stupid. Very, very stupid. You can’t run. You can’t escape. The only way for you to get out of this is to join us.”

Caldyn could barely hear her words, but their meaning tore into his soul. He was cold. So cold. It was wrong, he never felt cold, and in a way, that was even more terrifying than the pain.

“Think about it. All this pain could end. All you have to do is allow the Scourge into your soul.”

Someone stepped closer, freeing his hands. They fell to the ground, fingers almost numb, wrists raw and bleeding. He hadn’t even realized how hard he had struggled against his ties. He didn’t try to move.

“Let it fill you with power, unleash your full potential. Let it give you the strength to heal you. Let it take away the weakness, the morals, the conscience.”

She paused, perhaps waiting for a reply. Caldyn didn’t bother. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. But the thought of making the pain stop was enough to make him cry, pressing the side of his face against his arm.

“What is it that this world thinks it can offer us? Sit on a tree, grateful for whatever scraps it throws us, while the other races make fun of us? We are not born weak. We can be stronger, faster, we can endure so much more, where they break. While they still learn to walk, we already master magic. We should show them how powerful we are, make them respect us, fear us.”

“You... are wrong.” Caldyn’s words were pressed, ending in a pained groan and a gasp for breath.

“Perhaps.”

He started to tremble even more at the coldness of her voice. He expected a hit, a kick, anything, but it didn’t come.

“But you... you are pathetic. Clinging to the light. Hoping. Dying. I know you are. I’ve seen so many of you die. I can see the moment their body breaks before their mind does. It’s a shame, really, he shouldn’t have done that. I really wanted you. You’re intriguing.”

Caldyn closed his eyes, more afraid of the coldness in his limbs than her voice. His breaths came too quickly, but they couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs.

“Perhaps I was wrong. There is another way out of this for you. I’m sure you can heal yourself. Just enough to not bleed out tonight.” She paused. “Or you don’t,” she then continued, her tone treacherously sweet. “Don’t heal yourself. I’m getting tired of this, and you can be sure that I don’t want you enough to waste one of my healers’ energy on you.”

Caldyn’s hitched breaths turned into despaired sobs. He didn’t want to die.

“Think about it. That’s my offer. Die tonight. Join us. Or suffer, until you wish you had done either.”

She walked away, they all walked away, their steps growing more distant, the bars of his cage moving back. He didn’t lift his head, even though he couldn’t be sure they all had left. This once, he didn’t have the strength left to worry about it. If they hurt him any more, they’d take this decision away from him.

He didn’t want to die.

He sobbed at the thought, finally pulling his arms closer, curling up. The pain in his side made him shudder and gasp. Was she right? Did he have the strength? How could she have been so sure of it, when he himself wasn’t. He had been able to draw a bit of energy, perhaps it was enough to save him.

But if he did, they’d come back. They’d torture him more. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take before they’d break him. They wanted him to give his soul to the Scourge, and he couldn’t do it, and they wouldn’t stop hurting him. How long before his body gave up again, before he lost his mind?

He didn’t want to die.

What if there would be a way for him to escape after all? What if someone had noticed he was missing, would come looking for him, free him? He wanted to go home, to taste fresh water again, to see the sun again, to hear his mentor’s voice again. She was right. He was pathetic, to still have hope.

Another tear ran down his face as he closed his eyes, forcefully calming his breaths, ignoring the panic, the feeling that he was suffocating. Focusing on the energy deep within himself was hard. It hurt so much. There was so little. He was so cold. There was enough. He wept as he concentrated on the deepest cuts, using the stolen energy to heal them.

Tagging: @dont-touch-my-soup​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @frenchfries893​ (please let me know if this wasn’t what you meant)

#Thorns and Jasmine #captivity tw #stabbing tw #escape attempt #whump #fantasy whump #non-human whumpee #Sorry but you're not getting out of here #Nice try tho #broken bones mention #I'ma post this now before I shift another word around 7 times #my writing

[wonderfilworld]

Move Together - S.B.

Sirius Black x Reader where Sirius didn’t die in OOTP and it’s before the battle of Hogwarts. 

word count: 1.2k

Warnings/contains: angst, talks of war, talk of death, one or two swear words I think, kissing, fluffy-ish ending? If I missed anything let me know!! 

Masterlist 

The war had been going on for almost a year now. The Order was on edge, constantly anxious about Harry Potter and how close You-Know-Who was to finding him. There wasn’t much you could do except wait; wait for war, wait for news of death, wait for the end of this shitty cycle of death and destruction. 

You were standing outside, looking up at the night sky. The stars and the moon shone brightly, like a taunting, deceptive symbol that things were okay. It was strange, you thought, how someone could be looking at the exact same moon and stars, and their lives weren’t falling apart. You wished, selfishly, that you could have been born oblivious to the world of magic - growing up in a muggle village with muggle friends attending muggle school. But, instead, you were thrust into this world of wizards and magic. It would have been great, being a witch, if you hadn’t been at war most of your life. 

“What’s on that beautiful mind of yours?”

You smiled softly, not turning to the voice coming from behind you. “Thinking about you,” you lied, wrapping your arms around yourself. There was a nice breeze, and you closed your eyes, keeping your chin up to the sky. 

Arms wrapped around your body, and your boyfriend set his chin upon your shoulder. “Liar,” he said, always knowing when you were. Sirius moved your hair away from your neck and planted a few chaste kisses there. “What are you really thinking about?” 

You sighed, not wanting to turn around and face him because in all honesty, you’ve had this discussion before. You worried for your lover’s godson; you worried for your own family and how you all were going to make it out of this alive. “Same old,” you said quietly, knowing he would understand. 

Sirius let out a long breath against your neck and you shivered, the cool breeze along with your boyfriend in such close proximity erupting chill bumps along your whole body. “What did I say about worrying about things we can’t control, hm?” He lifted his head then, grabbing your waist and turning you around. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, knowing what you would see there. You know he worries as well, and you hate it. After everything Sirius Black had been through in his life, you try to always be the one with a positive outlook on things, and with the way you had been feeling lately you felt extremely guilty. You instead stared at his chin, and the stubble that resided there. 

He was so handsome, long black hair and piercing gray eyes. You met at Hogwarts, and while you didn’t have the best first impressions of each other, it didn’t take long for Sirius to become your whole world. And you thought you loved him then, but childhood crushes were nothing compared to the all consuming fire of love and desire that surged through you when you thought of this man, when you saw this man, when you touched this man. Nothing compared and you knew nothing ever would.

You loved him so much, it felt like you would explode. That your heart weighed ten thousand pounds whenever you looked at him for too long and realized that he chose you. You could burst into tears if you thought too much about how much he loved you.You were so lucky and he was so special and amazing and beautiful and you loved this life with him. You wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even when he was gone for twelve years and you didn’t think he would ever come back. There was no one but Sirius Black for you. 

You realized you never answered his question, so you gathered all the courage you could find and looked into his eyes. “Sorry,” you mumbled, not wanting to disappoint him, although unbeknownst to you, in his eyes, you could never. You cast your eyes back down to his mouth this time, edges of his lips turning up in a smile. You smiled back involuntarily, you really just couldn’t help it. “Won’t happen again,” you say louder, your small closed-lip smile turning now into a full-mouthed grin. 

Sirius mirrored your smile before opening his mouth to speak, “better not, pet.” He smirked and pulled you flush against his chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck before leaning on the tips of your toes to give him a kiss, hoping he could feel the unyielding love that you carried for him deep in your bones. His arms grew impossibly tighter around you keeping you standing because you surely would have fallen if he hadn’t. You could sense, somehow, that he was showing you the same fire-burning love he felt through this kiss. 

The two of you stood there - how long, you’re not sure - kissing and whispering words of your love until you were dizzy and the both of you were grinning and giggling like kids. Your hands were in his hair and his were under your shirt laying flat on your back. Eyes still closed, noses still rubbing together affectionately, you opened your mouth to speak again. 

“I love you,” you breathed out, planning to say things that you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to again. This war was nasty, and there was no guarantee that any of you would make it out alive. You didn’t want to be a casualty of this war, but you wanted to tell Sirius - no, you needed to tell Sirius, how thankful you were for this little life you had with him. “I love you so much, and I need you to always remember -”

“Don’t,” he said, voice deep and unwavering, “you’ll always be around to say it, love.” You opened your eyes, noticing that his were still closed. You pulled back slightly, not wanting to upset him but needing him to understand. You brought your hands to fist at the front of his shirt as you took a deep breath. “You don’t know that, Sirius. Anything could happen, and I can’t risk not telling you every day how much you mean to me, that I appreciate you, and that this life with you is more than I could have ever asked for.” You were rambling, speaking fast and tears pricked at your lower lash line, and you silently cursed yourself for being so emotional. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he brought one of his hands to cup your cheek, and ran his thumb across the bone there, ready to catch the tears threatening to fall. You rolled back on the balls of your feet, looking back up towards the sky in hopes of drying your eyes. You were frustrated, truthfully, at your inability to formulate the right words to let this man know the feelings that ran deep through you. 

His other hand traveled to rest on the other side of your face and tugged, bringing your gaze back to his. You almost lost your ability to breathe, the intense look in his eyes squeezing your lungs. “I love you,” he started, whispering this tiny affirmation to you directly, “more than anything in this world. Don’t worry about tomorrow, love. Be here with me right now.” 

You nodded, not being able to find the words to say. He brought his lips back to yours and you went back to stand on the tips of your toes as you returned your hands to his hair. The pair of you stayed there longer, noses and fingertips turning red from the late night - or is it morning?- breeze. You knew Sirius was right, you knew you may not have tomorrow, but you sure as hell had right now, and you didn’t want to waste a single moment.

#sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #marauders #remus lupin #Harry Potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #hogwarts #battle of hogwarts #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n

[acourtofsnakes]

Tracinya - Rogue, Chapter 23 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader

Summary: Nothing will stop you from rescuing Din. Anyone who stands in your way is merely an obstacle to be removed. But will you be merciful... or listen to that dark call? 

Warnings: Injury detail, blood, guns(of the space variety), knives, fighting, swearing, death, watch me make things up about the Force again. 

Word Count: 13k+ (I got carried away?)

AN: Well. This ended up a lot longer than I expected it to be. I got rather carried away it seems  ((oh well)) Also, I have checked this ((twice)) but its over 13k words and there is going to be something I missed. 

Introduction

1: Solus | 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl ^ | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur ^ | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi | 8: Haran | 9. E’tad | 10: Tome * | 11: Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din * | 12: Mar’eyce**^ | 13: Kov’nyn | 14: Ne’tra ^ | 15: Or’dinii | 16: Dar | 17: Haalur | 18: Mesh’la** | 19: Talyc ^^ | 20: Jorhaa'ir ^^ | 21: Hibirar | 22: Jetii’kad | 23: Tracinya | 

Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f) Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​ @kenoobiwan @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @mamacitapascal @heyitsjaybird @amyk-37 @greatcircle79

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal

Mando’a Translation: Tracinya - Flame

There was no part of his body that wasn’t screaming in pain. 

His right leg was broken, possibly in two places, and his left ankle was fractured. 

He had taken the fall on his right side, meaning the impact had dislocated his shoulder and shattered his collarbone, resulted in searing agony whenever he moved his head. 

Not only that, but every breath felt like glass and fire, a pain he was familiar enough with to know he also had at least three broken ribs. 

Of course, there were bruises – his entire body was probably littered with purple and black smudges – and cuts. 

Din didn’t remember hitting the floor. Only remembered saying goodbye and then… nothing. He supposed he should be grateful, because from the state his body was in, the feeling of impact would have been horrendous, his body crushed under the very armour that was made to keep him safe. 

He’d been convinced that was it, the lights were turned off and the Maker would come to greet him. 

And yet, after an indeterminable amount of darkness… there was suddenly light. 

Harsh, blinding light and hands moving over his body, checking for injury and – 

They were going to remove his armour. 

The thought and realisation sent shockwaves of terror through him, and despite the agony that had threatened to suck him under, survival instinct kicked in and he lashed out. Taking down anyone who came near him, the medics, the guards, Troopers – anyone who threatened to touch his armour. He was like a caged animal, defending his last dying breath even as his head spun and his knees gave way. 

He fought for consciousness, long enough to see a pair of immaculate boots walk in, the edge of a long, ebony cloak embroidered with gold.

Through the roaring in his head, he heard a silken voice ordering everyone to stand down, that if anyone removed the amour, they would be removed of their head. 

And then he had been sucked back into a fitful abyss 

Din wasn’t sure how long ago that had been.

The room – cell – they had put him in contained no windows, no clocks, nothing to give him indication to what time it was. Only a few artificial lights placed on each wall – which he was grateful for, because the dim lighting was a minimal balm to his pulsating head. 

Only a thin cot for him to sleep on, pushed into the corner of the room and a tiny area in the corner where he could relieve himself. The ceiling rose far above him, giving the impression of being at the bottom of a very small, very dark pit. 

There was no regular pattern to when they pushed a tray of food and water through a tiny hatch in the door either, so he couldn’t even use that. 

Not that he could have concentrated anyway, with the agony waging war on his body. 

He’d had countless injuries before and danced the line of death so many times he was surprised he kept getting away with it. 

And yet this… this was bad. 

His vision kept fading in and out, blurriness making his sight hazy before it cleared again, but not without leaving fuzzy auras that floated in his peripheral. 

Concussion too then… a bad one. 

He just prayed there was no permanent damage. 

He could still talk, though his voice was hoarse and ragged when he whispered to himself the names of his loved ones – he could still remember them, thankfully.  

The ability to move remained intact – though heavily compromised. He could only manage tiny movements, embarrassingly slow as he tried not to move his neck or shoulder… or head… or back. 

An escape probably wasn’t going to be possible for a while. 

Din sighed, laying in an awkward position on his cot, one that gave the least pain. 

Again, his thoughts returned to his haven. 

You. 

You were going to kill him when he got out. 

Either for being a hypocrite, or for the worry he was causing you. 

The worry, no… the heart-wrenching terror he had heard in your voice mere moments before he fell. That cruel fear of the consequences as you laid into him, tried to keep that anger contained but he knew you too well. Knew that this would be tearing you to pieces.

He had felt the exact same way when you were taken – when she died. 

You were a rather dysfunctional pair, weren’t you. 

That thought had him chuckling – and then groaning as the small movement sent shockwaves from his broken ribs. 

Maker, he was battered. 

He didn’t even know how it had all gone so wrong. 

One minute he was flitting through the sky, dodging blaster fire and the next there was a loud pop and smoke began billowing from his back, from the jet pack. 

A very carefully aimed shot, with precision and intent – not to blow him up by shooting at the fuel lines… but perfectly lined up to knock out the thrusters and sent him tumbling to Earth. 

There was only one person he knew that could make a shot like that. 

Someone he should have foreseen, if he was honest with himself. 

Looking back, the townspeople letting slip the information about the base… that had clearly been a trap. 

A false trail to lead them right to the doorstep of the very people trying to chase them down. 

Din hadn’t just led himself to his death… but his friends too. He had no idea where they were, if they’d escaped – if they were even alive. 

He was disgusted with himself, the way he had so easily and thoughtlessly allowed his friends to be brought to such danger. He should have just gone in alone but… he hadn’t been thinking straight. 

When he’d heard that there was a whole base dedicated to finding his sweetheart… a whole legion of Stormtroopers trained, and no doubt given weapons specifically made to defend and attack Force users, he’d lost it. 

How could he walk away knowing all of that? Knowing they were going to come after you?

He couldn’t. He didn’t.

And now look where he was. 

Movement outside his door suddenly broke him from his reverie, a shadow moving past the gap in the food hatch. 

Something beeped outside the cell, multiple locks sliding and scraping through the door and then it was pushed open. 

Din blinked against the sudden harsh light flooding his cell, his helmet damaged so his visor didn’t adjust to the brightness the way it should have done. 

As his eyes cleared, he saw a figure lean and tall, wearing a long cloak – with golden embroidery. 

Oh, joy.

Anger sizzled through his reluctant body as Haran prowled into his cell, filling the small room with that unearthly presence. The shadows of the room seemed to cling to him, perhaps recognising that their master had arrived. 

Din grunted, ignoring the screaming agony that flooded his senses as he dragged his body to sit up, leaning heavily against where the two walls joined near his bed. If this was his end, he didn’t want to be laying down. 

If it was a friendly little chat… well, he could at least give himself a better position to punch the bastard in that overly pretty face. 

Haran stopped in the centre of the room, lifting gloved hands to his hood and he pushed it back.

He looked the same as always. 

Sharp cheekbones accentuated his face, which was neither old nor young – timeless, for no one knew how long this man had truly been alive.

Amber eyes that dominated his appearance, simmering like molten gold and only highlighting the fact that he wasn’t quite human. 

 The twin scars across his mouth and eye did nothing to mar the beauty of him – and Din supposed that was all part of the act. A beautiful face, a silken voice and a laugh that could bring entire villages to their knees to worship this fallen dark prince.

Before he slaughtered them all. 

Din hated him. 

Those golden eyes simmered with amusement as he beheld Din, as if knowing the thoughts going through the Mandalorian’s head… which he probably did. 

He cocked his head, a smile lifting his full lips, “Well, fancy seeing you so soon, Lori.” 

Din growled, his hands tightening into fists and he wished his blazing glaze would melt through his beskar helmet and sear straight into those lion’s eyes. 

That damn lovers laugh rippled through the tiny room, setting Din’s teeth on edge, “Oh, Mando, no need to be so defensive. You had to know what would happen when you decided to infiltrate a base dedicated to hunting your little Jedi.” 

“You won’t find her.” Din spat the words, wishing his body wasn’t so battered, wishing his had his strength so he could tear this creature apart. 

Haran’s smile widened, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, his scar tugging ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth – a predators grin, “That’s not entirely true, considering I found her so easily last time. But I won’t need to find her.” He examined his cloak, brushing a speck of invisible dust from it. 

Dread coiled in Din’s gut, “She doesn’t know where I am. She won’t be able to find me, so you can’t lure her here like a piece of bait. She’s smarter than that.” With every word, he had the sinking feeling that he was saying exactly what the King of Shadows and Death expected him to. 

“You see, I would believe you, if not for one tiny little detail.” Now Haran inspected his gloves, tugging the buckles that tightened them around his wrists, a picture of cool, arrogant confidence. 

It was an effort for Din to keep his voice steady, “And what is that?” 

Please no, please…

Haran looked up at him again, a dark curl falling over his forehead, “I hacked into your comms system, right as you hit the deck. You really should get some better tech, Mando.” He clasped his hands behind his back, “I sent a distress signal to your pretty Jedi, telling her your exact coordinates and even how to get in.” 

Din simply made a noise of horror, knowing that nothing in the world would stop you from finding him. You were stubborn, headstrong and determined… all combined with a fierce desire to save the ones you loved. 

He just prayed Ahsoka would make you see sense. You would be smart about this… right?

Haran shrugged lightly, “I don’t think even Tano will be able to hold her back.” 

Sick bastard, reading his thoughts. 

“I guess we’ll see who’s right soon enough, won’t we?” With that, he turned, walking back to the door, where he knocked twice. 

The beep and locks sounded again, and Haran looked over his shoulder at Din, who was still struck dumb with dread, “Why, I bet she’s already on her way right now.” He laughed low, and then he was gone with a sweep of his cloak.

~~~

~~

You were beside yourself with panic and terror in the first few hours after the call cut off. 

Your scream had woken Ahsoka and the kids, who made it to your tree in time to see you half fall from the branches, stumbling around looking for something, anything to help. 

You could barely hear Ahsoka calling your name, until she grabbed you, forcing you to look at her and calm down. You’d told her what happened, before yanking out her grasp and running to the camp. 

Nothing was computing in your brain, nothing except a primal instinct to go and save Din right now. 

Again, you hadn’t heard her calling your name, mumbling over and over that you needed to go, you needed to get out of here, Din needed you. 

Except there was just one problem…

“Slow down. How are we going to get off of the planet? We don’t have a ship…” Ahsoka spoke calmly, but firmly. She was watching you tear through the camp, emotions a wreck and noting you were moments away from a panic attack. 

You had turned to her, clutching your belongings in your arms, your breathing coming in sharp pants, “Then - then we’ll just… Um...” Casting your eyes about helplessly, you had felt your throat close up, your heart race and your palms start sweating. 

A sob had been about to break from your lips but then – you both heard it. 

The tell-tale sound of a twig breaking, of hushed voices. 

The pair of you whipped your heads in unison, toward the sound and your panic attack vanished, being replaced with the cool ice of battle. The things in your arms had been placed on the floor and then Ahsoka’s voice had been in your head, “You go left, I’ll go right. We’ll meet in the middle.” 

You nodded, reaching for your blade but then Ahsoka had held out a hand to stop you, instead… holding out one of her sabers. 

Oh.

Yes, you’d trained with it but… now she was letting you use it for real, in actual combat? 

Lifting your eyes to hers, she had seen what you were thinking and simply smiled encouragingly. 

That said enough, so you curled your fingers around it and then the pair of you had separated, footsteps lighter than air as you both forged a protective Force field around the kids. 

Moving through the trees, marking the intruders... it had all soothed you, soothed the ache and terror in your chest for the time being. 

Your power let you know they were close, and you hovered in the darkness for a moment, watching the two cloaked figures and sensing Ahsoka opposite you. Something flowed through the air, like a confirmation and you activated the lightsaber, springing from your hiding space with a burst of glowing late. 

“Wait!!! Wait, it’s us!!!” The two cloaked figures turned around, dropping their hoods so their faces would be revealed in the glow from both your sabers. 

Cara, and another man you didn’t recognise – bald, with a numerous harness and straps that no doubt held weapons under his cloak. 

You made a nose, lowering the saber, “Cara?! I thought… I thought you were with Lori – what are you doing here?” Despite the situation, the anonymous nickname for him came out instantly – protecting his identify even here. 

Cara looked from you to Tano, who was still standing in a somewhat defensive position with her saber held out. “We were… We’d split up to take down more of the Troopers. Mando took to the sky to draw fire so we could sweep through them. When we saw him get taken down, we had a choice. Either get captured ourselves, or go and get help.” 

You blinked, a frown forming on your face, “Hang on, let me get this right.” Something stirred in your chest, something smouldering, “You saw Din get taken down, saw him fall from the sky, into the clutches of Stormtroopers who are no doubt reporting to Moff Gideon… and you ran away?” The last two words come out in an incredulous tone, your face showing confusion as you looked between Cara and the other man. 

He raised his hands, shaking his head, “Hey, I wouldn’t go as far as to call it running away. We didn’t know he’d contacted you; we didn’t know how anyone would find us. If we got captured too, there was no way we could get out. Only Boba and Fennec knew where we were, they wouldn’t have been enough.”

Ahsoka raised her eyebrows, stepping closer – never lowering her lightsaber, “So, he’s there alone? Or wherever else they’ve taken him?” 

The man blinked as he looked at her, “Do you mind lowering that thing, lady? I don’t see how we’re the enemies here.”

You snarled at him, mimicking Ahsoka in the closer advance, “I’m not calling you enemies, I’m stunned that you just abandoned him there!!”

Cara held out a hand, trying to diffuse the situation, “Mayfeld, shut up.” She looked at you, “Look, Mando isn’t incapable of taking care of himself. He’s been in situations like this before, he’ll be fine.” 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, your head spinning, “He’ll be fine?! He could be anywhere, Cara! Who knows where they’ve dragged him, what they’re doing to him! I’m not doubting for a second that he’s been captured before – but not by an army of Troopers, alone, after falling hundreds of feet from the fucking sky! How about I push you out of the open air in a metal tomb and you tell me if you’re up to fighting your way out of an Imperial army.” 

Mayfeld squared up to you, tensions running high, “You know, you might want to be a little more understanding. I’m sure if the situation was reversed, Mando would have - ”

Suddenly, you had pulled free your knife and it was held to his throat, “If you dare say he would have done the same, I’ll cut your throat.” You didn’t care that these were Din’s friends. Didn’t care that they were obviously here to help. 

You were furious, feeling helpless and well… you had never been the greatest at controlling your temper.  

Ahsoka disabled her lightsaber, running forward and gently pushing you all apart. You felt a phantom brush over your skin and realised she had weaved threads of the Force between everyone, “Hey, hey, let’s all just take a moment to breathe, okay? We’re all worried and wound up… Yelling at each other isn’t going to solve anything.” 

Mayfeld muttered something you didn’t hear, though you did hear the thump as Cara elbowed him in the ribs. “Enough.” 

You powered down the saber and dropped your head into your hands. 

The world had flipped on its head, completely and utterly shifted and turned into something unrecognisable. Maybe this wasn’t really happening, maybe you were having some kind of fever dream. 

You sighed long and deep, rubbing at your eyes before looking at Mayfeld and Cara, “I’m sorry, for what I said. You did the right thing… We wouldn’t know anything if you hadn’t come back.” You shifted your gaze solely to Mayfeld now, “And I’m sorry for holding a knife to your throat.” 

To your surprise, he just chuckled, shaking his head, “Don’t worry. I’ve had worse from your Mandalorian, this was nothing.” He held out a hand, “Migs Mayfeld.” 

You found yourself smiling back, sliding your hand into his and shaking it as you told him your name. 

Cara looked around, “As much as I’m glad we’re not threatening to kill each other anymore, does anyone want to tell me how we’re going to find Mando?”

As if by coincidence, the comms device on your wrist started to emit a high-pitched beep. 

All four of you jumped, then looked at the device which had begun to flash red. 

You held it up between you all, and the screen lit up, displaying a string of co-ordinates with that same persistent beep. 

It dawned on you instantly, “It’s a distress signal. Lori sent us the co-ordinates of where he is.” 

Cara was eyeing it thoughtfully, “Do we want to ask why that suddenly came up, just as I asked where he was? And what if he isn’t there by the time we get there?” 

You were already moving back toward the camp to gather your things, “I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s a trap, or if he’s a whole parsec over. It’s the best thing we have, so we’re using it. Get your things.”

~

That had been a couple of nights ago. You were now travelling on Boba Fett’s ship, a tight squeeze but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered apart from finding Din. 

Boba Fett was an interesting man. He was a clone of the infamous Jango Fett, the Mandalorian of whom you���d grown up hearing about. His armour was older, less sleek than Din’s but still as ruggedly beautiful and had belonged to Jango himself. He was shadowed by another woman, Fennec Shand – an assassin of whom you’d also heard of on your ‘travels’. 

He was a straightforward, direct man, greeting you and praising you on the stories he had heard – then asking how everything was going to go ahead. Straight to business. 

Two hours later, a plan had already been created.

The distress signal coordinates you had given Boba would take you to the general area you needed to be. Then, once you located the Cruiser, Boba would get you as close as he could, slipping into a disused landing bay. 

He would remain with the ship and kids, waiting to get out – and to lead a distraction if it came to it. 

The rest of you would infiltrate the Cruiser, splitting up to cover more ground and find Din – Cara and Fennec in one pair, you, Mayfeld and Ahsoka in the other. 

You sat a little way away from the others – as far as you could in the ship, letting the sound of their planning wash over you. They were determined the best way to get in and out without being seen, whether it was best to go in all guns blazing – literally – or try and be as discreet as possible with minimal causalities. 

You were glad you had excused yourself… because that dark assassin within you was stirring, sensing the oncoming fight – readying a thirst for blood. 

Sure, some of the Troopers may have had no choice… but they certainly hadn’t done anything to change their fate. They still chosen to continue following Gideon and Haran – for you knew now it was him that shot down Din, but you had kept that nugget of information to yourself, only telling Ahsoka. 

The others didn’t need the added stress of knowing a terrifying legend had truly come to life. 

If they wanted to try and preserve life – fine. You certainly didn’t have to agree with them. You didn’t answer rot anyone but yourself. 

And you supposed that mindset should worry you, making you concerned that you were slipping back to that cold killer but… you didn’t care. If you had to become her to save Din and get everyone out safely… so be it. You would deal with the consequences later. 

Ahsoka crossed your field of vision, and then came to sit down opposite you, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out next to yours. She said nothing, merely watching you with an unreadable expression for a few moments. 

You sighed, “If you’ve come to tell me not to go where my thoughts are leading me-“

She shook her head, cutting you off gently, “I’m not going to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. I’m just going to ask you… Are you prepared for the consequences of what you do, either way? If you choose to go down the path of tearing down anyone in your way… How will you feel afterward?” 

How would you feel afterward?

“I don’t know how I would feel… I know what it’s like to be pushed into a life but… There’s always a choice at some point. However small…” You looked up at her, truly valuing her opinions and advice – she was already a trusted friend, one you could speak your mind to. 

Of course, you had Din. But to have something sperate from him… it felt good. Healthy. You both had your separate friendships away from each other… for moments like this perhaps. 

“I can’t think of anything but saving him. And it’s easy to sit here and ask myself what I’ll do, before we’re even there… but when I’m in there, when I’m walking through that Cruiser to find him...” You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know what I’ll do. And I might not have the time to make that decision when I’m there.”

Ahsoka nodded slowly, listening to what you have to say, “Then whatever happens… We’ll deal with it afterward. Whatever you choose to do... I believe you are strong enough to take it. And if not… then we’ll deal with that too.” 

Gratitude warmed the cold feeling in your chest, spreading through you and you looked at her with new appreciation, “Thank you…” Those two words were heartfelt, all the emotion and thankfulness pumped into there. “For this, helping me… and for everything you’ve done.”

She inclined her head slightly, bumping her foot against your thigh, “You needn’t thank me… It’s been an honour, to help you and train you. After everything that’s happened in my life, the mistrust I had for those I once believed in… I never thought I could get over that hole. But you’ve shown me that it’s not all the way I believed. Things are changing… I’m learning that now. So… thank you.” 

You were about to answer, but Boba’s deep, gravelly voice came from the cockpit, “Time to gear up guys. We’re about to hit the same co-ordinates from the distress signal.” 

~~~~

~~

“Sir?” 

Moff Gideon walked over to the young man who had just called for him, seating in front of a holo-screen like the others dotted about the room, “Yes? What is it?” 

The man brought up a radar screen, a pulsing red dot just coming into the edge of it, “They’re getting closer. They followed the Hunter’s trap.” 

Gideon smiled slowly, watching that little red dot slowly creep closer to the centre of the radar, toward his Cruiser, “Excellent. Tell the troops to be ready. Just because we want them here, doesn’t mean we’ll make this easy for them.”

~~~

~~

Boba Fett’s ship glided through the atmosphere, all of you peering out of the windows for any sign, any hint as to where Din might be. 

You’d been in the general location for about twenty-five minutes, travelling right to the edge of each grid square on Fett’s radar. 

“I think… we might have missed him.” Cara spoke the words that you had all been reluctant to acknowledge, her voice quiet. 

You shook your head fiercely, moving to the other side of the ship, “No. You’re wrong. He’s here. I know he is. I just… know.”  

Grogu cooed from behind you, his ears floppy like they had been since you lost contact with Din.

You turned to look at him, heart breaking at the utter sadness in his glossy eyes, “Oh, Gu… I know.” You scooped him up, cradling the little body to your chest and you pressed a kiss between his ears, “We’ll find him… I promise you; we’ll find him.” You pressed your face to his little head, whispering, “Even if we have to do it on our own.” 

His little arms reached up to your shoulders, and you took a few moments just to hug him, giving him comfort but also receiving it in return. 

You felt his hands tugging at your collar and wondered if he was trying to reach for your hair… but then he grasped something and pulled – your necklace. 

The mythosaur necklace that Din had given you. 

You looked down at him, watching as he cradled the symbol in his tiny little hands, gurgling at it but for once, you weren’t sure what he was saying. It itched at you, like you could almost understand him. 

It turns out, Ahsoka did. She gasped a little, looking at Grogu suddenly and blinking in surprise, “Oh, you’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t even think of that…” She looked at you with wide eyes, “You can find him.”

You blinked at her, raising an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” You felt Grogu’s eyes on you too, and he tugged gently at the mythosaur charm, “The necklace?”

Ahsoka nodded, “Kind of… You have such a strong connection with him, such intense care for each other that if you use your power… you might be able to sense him, where he is.” She walked closer, “It’s hard to explain… it’s an old Jedi trick. They used to use it to track others or find people in hiding. It’s difficult to do, and not all Jedi could do it but… You know him. Better than any of us.” She took Grogu from you gently, “Close your eyes and focus your mind the way we practiced.”

You nodded, not questioning it. There was no time. 

You shut your eyes, following the breathing exercises she had taught you and dropping everything away from your mind. The ship, the murmuring of the others – the panic. 

All of it fell away until you felt the power flowing through your blood, felt it brush up against every living thing in your vicinity. 

Ahsoka’s voice slipped through your mind, “Now, think of him. The memories, the way he makes you feel, the happiness you feel with him. Think about what makes him your Mandalorian.”

Your power flowed through you, out of you, wrapping around the ship and you were already deep in your mind by the time it started shifting the direction you were facing. 

What makes him your Mandalorian…

You let that question move through you, thinking of his touch, his voice… the way he softened the harsh edges of your mind and eased your chest.

The way you had truly come alive after meeting him, how you saw the galaxy as you had before – something beautiful and wild and begging to be explored. 

You breathed in and out slowly, musing on the way you felt you had also brought light to Din’s life. Not just from the way he told you... but the way he seemed to have mellowed even more since first knowing you. 

He laughed more, let himself go a little… His moments of uptight, rigid restraint had melted into something far softer and… goofier. 

Ahsoka’s gentle praise whispered through the thoughts and memories, encouraging you. For however long, you didn’t know. 

And then you felt it. 

Your power brushed over something… someone. 

Din. 

His essence, his soul, burning like a bright star in your longest night. A sense of comfort, fierce loyalty and determination, all encased in a glittering shell of honour. 

Your eyes snapped up, the ship slowing to a stop and then – there it was. 

Moff Gideon’s cruiser. 

And speeding toward you… about thirty Stormtroopers, ready to attack. 

Mayfeld grinned from behind you as Duru leapt from the control panel, “Time to make an entrance.” 

~~~

~~

When Din got out of here, he was going to tear Haran into little pieces. 

Well.

He would help you tear him into little pieces. 

You had probably more rights than anyone to do so, but he had some things that the cocky shit needed to pay for. 

Hey, maybe you could tag team. 

Din kept thinking of creative ways to take Haran apart, to see if he was as strong inside as the power he oozed on the outside. It would be a fascinating project. 

Maybe when you cut him open, he would be a hollow shell, or maybe there would be some kind of malevolent demon inside him. 

He supposed these thoughts were rather twisted and dark, and that Haran had undoubtedly been through some awful things in his life… but so had you, and you were worlds apart from each other. 

Besides, it was all he could do. Think of Haran’s death and try to avoid thinking of the alternative thing that was screaming at him like a siren. 

That you may very well be on your way to rescuing him. 

Din could tell himself for hours that you wouldn’t heed it, that you’d know it was a trap but… it just wasn’t you. 

You were one of the smartest people he knew, but if anyone you loved was in danger, caution tended to get thrown out the window. 

Sometimes, you were both more alike than you realised. 

Din sighed, curling his fingers into fists and then releasing them again. A few hours ago – or maybe days? – he’d lost feeling in his arm. He couldn’t pop the dislocated shoulder back into place without removing his armour, so it was stuck there, swollen and pressing against the beskar. It had started with pins and needles, and then a cold feeling like ice in his veins. 

It made him feel unsteady, lopsided – though that may have been the broken right leg and twisted left ankle. 

Not only that, but every movement of his head made his stomach roil dangerously, and his breathing seemed to be coming laboured… more like sharp pants rather than deep breaths. 

You were never going to let him live this down. 

He huffed again, but the faintest smile rose to his lips as he imagined you both somewhere safe. 

You’d wait long enough for Din to be suitably healed before tearing into him… and no doubt it would creep up for months afterwards. He could almost hear the cocky tone as you bickered about something and you’d whip that out, “Oh, well, I suppose I could always go an attack an Imp base and get shot of the sky. Stars above, can you imagine doing that? What fun.” 

The thought made him chuckle, just a bit even though it irritated his ribs again. 

Of course, that soft sound seemed like a siren call and seconds later, the door to his cell swung open and the King of Shadows and Death appeared – more like King of Arrogance and a limited wardrobe. 

Didn’t he have anything else to wear besides that cloak?

Or was Din just jealous? His own cape was a bit tattered, and he’d always envied the way you wore your own hooded cloak, blending into the darkness and sweeping around corners like some kind of phantom. 

Maker, his concussion must be getting worse. 

Pushing that thought from his spiralling mind, Din tilted his head back to look up at Haran, “Are you lonely? Is that why you keep coming to see me?” He tilted his head, ignoring the feeling like boulders crashing against the inside of his skull and the bits of light dancing across his vision, “Or are you looking for a bit of nightly entertainment? Because I have to say, I’m hardly in the shape to do so.” 

His tongue felt so heavy his mouth. 

Haran rolled those unsettling eyes as the door closed behind him and he walked over, leaning against the wall opposite, “Yes, Mando. My days are just so meaningless without your shiny head to light the way.” He put a gloved hand to his chest, gasping, “Why, if we weren’t on an Imperial Cruiser, I might just drop to one knee and beg for your hand in marriage, right now.” 

Prick. 

Din turned his head away, breathing shallow as his stomach flipped again, “What do you want? If you hadn’t noticed, I’m a rather busy man.”

Haran chose to ignore him, snapping his fingers together and pulling a face like he just remembered something, “Oh, wait. I can’t marry you, can I?” He looked up at Mando, golden eyes burning through the side of his helmet, “Because you already have plans to do that to someone else, don’t you? 

Din willed himself not to rise to the challenge, not to take the bait. He instead tried counting his breaths, focusing on anything but Haran’s silken words. 

They flowed like water around the small cell, almost irresistible, “Does she know? Does your little princess know that you’ve been carrying that ring around for months now?” He crossed one ankle over the other, “I have to admit, it is a stunner. How much did you have to save for a rock like that?” 

Anger hissed through him, but Din closed his eyes. 

Many jobs. He had saved the credits from… more jobs than he could remember. 

He would bring home most of the credits but would siphon off just a little from the top to add it to the tiny stash he had going. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get a ring with a huge stone like others he’d seen but… he had a feeling that you would love it regardless – at least he hoped. The ring had sat nestled in an inner pocket of his tight underlayer of clothing for a while now, and he could still feel it’s hard press into his skin. Thankfully it hadn’t been crushed in the fall. 

It was new to him. Not just the fact he had reached this point in his life, but the fact he was looking for an engagement ring. 

Mandalorian’s traditionally gave weapons instead but… you weren’t a Mandalorian. And the pair of you… this was different. And he wanted to do it right. 

You had taken on board so much of his traditions and rules… he wanted to do this for you. Do something in a way that you would be familiar with. 

Of course, there was one other major thing that was different – 

“Have you even revealed your face? How do you know she’ll want to marry you? I mean, she loves you now but… What if you take off your helmet and she can’t stand you?” Haran examined his gloves, his words low and almost childlike but that was the point. 

Din gritted his teeth, keeping his body loose – as much as it could be with the pain – “Seriously, are you here for a reason?”

Boom!

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the entire ship. 

It echoed down the hall, but Din could calculate it was far away, deep in the belly of the cruiser so most likely a cargo hold. 

Red lights began flashing outside of his cell, the sound of many thumping footsteps racing past. 

No… no-

Haran’s eyes unfocused and a cold, dark power brushed against Din. Even through the armour, he could feel it. The way it leeched the warmth from him, swallowed what little light was in the room. It had a pull to it, like the silken caress of his voice given life. 

Din shuddered, but Haran hadn’t noticed, instead feeling for something… someone…

His pupils dilated, black swallowing the gold and then he grinned, a cruel, delighted grin and his eyes came back into focus. He stood up, laughing, “Oh, Mando. I’m afraid your luck has run out. Your precious princess has just made her entrance.”

Bile rose up in Din’s throat and he shook his head, “No, you’re lying.” 

Din knew he wasn’t. Knew it because he felt you. Every cell in his body was crying out to leave the room, to be reunited with you. Hell, he could almost smell your achingly familiar scent. 

Haran advanced on him, crouching down and he took off his gloves, revealing a pair of slender hands – absolutely mauled with twisted, marbled scars. 

Din couldn’t stop staring at them, at the evidence of some awful injury – fire, by the looks of it, “What are you doing?” He couldn’t move away, the pain too great and the room spinning. Horror flooded his senses – horror and relief. 

He felt sick at the relief, because the last thing he wanted was you near any of these people, but at the same time… you were coming to rescue him. 

He wasn’t going to die in here – 

That power brushed against him again, slipping through the cracks in his armour and seeking out the injuries as Haran said softly, “The game is beginning.” 

~~~

~~

So, your idea to enter the ship discreetly… maybe hadn’t gone entirely to plan. 

In all honesty though, it wasn’t your fault that you’d been attacked. 

And it wasn’t your fault that the only evasive maneuverer that they wouldn’t be expecting was to lead them on a wild goose chase around the ship and then…. Crash into the cargo hold. 

Okay, so Boba had been going for a gentle landing, but the situation had required some fast thinking and strategy and so… there you were. 

Maybe it hadn’t been what you’d decided upon but… you had to admit, the explosion provided excellent cover for your teams to slip in. 

Amongst the chaos, you weaved around the edges of the cargo ship and you were through into a service passageway, watching Cara and Fennec disappear down a hallway opposite. 

~

The cruiser was like a maze. 

You had no idea how long you had been navigating the halls, but you knew it was long enough. 

Already, you had encountered a few Troopers, but they were silenced before they could raise the alarm – and stuffed into nearby rooms so they would be delayed when they awoke. 

Mayfeld kept pace easily with you and Ahsoka, as you sent out waves of power to sweep the area, “They most likely have him in the cells. But if they know we’re coming… They would have moved him. 

Somewhere more central, where we have no choice but to be in the open and vulnerable to attack. So, we should head toward the front of the ship, maybe.” He kept his voice hushed and his blaster aimed. 

Ahsoka peered over her shoulder at him, raising her eyebrows, “Tell me again where you came from?” She had her other saber in her hand, held in her trademark grip as she moved like a shadow. 

Mayfeld chuckled low, “Impressed?” 

Seriously?

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, looking ahead again, “Please, don’t flatter yourself.” She shook her head, pausing and raising a hand for you all to stop too. 

You pushed your power around the corner as well, combining with hers and you felt it. 

A cluster of Stormtroopers gathered near a service room. They were standing between you and the next hallway and would need to be removed. 

Focusing, you did a rough tally, “Nine of them. All armed.” You worked it through in your mind. You could take them – but there was still enough time for them to raise the alarm. Especially if they were near service rooms, they’d be able to signal to others and you would soon be ambushed. 

Even without power, Mayfeld appeared to have done the same, “We need to draw them away, get them somewhere quiet.” He looked back the way you came, then to the right where there was a dead end. 

Ahsoka sighed, shaking her head, “How? Any noise will alert the others. We need to - ” She broke off, having just seen what you were doing. “Where are you going?” 

You had moved away from the safety of the wall, drawing the hood of your cloak up over your face. “You and Mayfeld get ahead, see if you can find a map or something in one of those rooms.” 

Something dark thrummed in your blood, your palms itching with an intense need to… to make someone hurt. 

Mayfeld rose an eyebrow, facing you as he kept his back against the wall, “Are you crazy? They want you as much as you want Mando! You can’t just walk out there like a party gift.” 

A party gift that’ll explode in their faces. 

Stars above, the very thought almost made you laugh with an unnaturally shadowed delight. 

You indeed chuckled, rolling your eyes, “Exactly. What Stormtrooper grunt would pass up the opportunity to deliver Moff Gideon the very thing he’s doing all of this for? They’ll take me straight to him or throw me somewhere to wait. Either way, it gets them away from you.” 

Ahsoka was watching you, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She didn’t agree with this anymore than Mayfield, but she too knew there was no other way. “Okay.” She ignored Mayfeld’s noise of protest, “Be careful. Try not to draw too much attention if you can help it. We’ll find anything we can and if you’re not back out here, then circle back to find you.” She was still watching you with that strange look – like she could sense something off. 

You gave her a playful salute before pulling out another knife from your boot, rolling your shoulders and strutting around the corner. 

Instantly, the group of Troopers turned around, guns raising as they beheld your cloaked appearance, and the shining lightsaber in your hand, “Hey! Stand down!” 

You dropped the hood, grinning wickedly as you purred, “Hello, boys.” 

~

You moved like a flame, tearing through the group of Stormtroopers and spreading your embers of death, ready to turn into a blaze. 

The whir of the lightsaber was the conductor of your dance, providing a beat as your separated limb from limb. The deadly energy whipped through the air, severing one of the Troopers hands from his wrist and he went down screaming, clutching at the stub at the end of his arm which was smouldering. You didn’t hesitate, whirling and flinging a sharp, deadly knife from your hand. 

There was a muffled, wet noise impact as it lodged itself in his throat, buried in the gap between the chest plates and helmet. 

You didn’t know if Ahsoka and Mayfield were close, if they’d found a map – you didn’t care. 

These men, these followers were standing between you and Din. Maybe they had been forced into it, but as you had said before. They made the choice to stay. 

A yell sounded from behind you and a sharp blow to the middle of your back had you stumbling, the air knocked from your lungs. 

You sucked in a sharp breath but before you could turn, the back of a blaster smashed your skull and you tumbled to the floor, fighting through the wave of nausea and the stars in your vision. The lightsaber was flung from your grip, skittering across the floor. 

A somewhat altered voice hissed against your ears, a knee pressing to your spine, “You think you can waltz in here and take us all down? I don’t care what the boss says.” The muzzle of his blaster now jammed against the back of your skull, forcing your forehead to press against the icy, metallic floor and you bit your lip with the impact, “You are vermin. A monster. People like you shouldn’t exist.” 

The dark creature within you snarled, and you spread your fingers of your free hand, the other caught up underneath you, “Didn’t your boss tell you?” 

You heard him cock his head, “Tell me, what?” He dug his blaster in harder, right against the base of your skull. 

A wicked grin spread your lips, causing them to split further but quite frankly, you didn’t care. The pain only aided in the focus, the hot blood nothing as it ran down your chin, “Watch the hands.” You lifted it from the floor, wrapping the Force around his throat and you gave him only a second to realise what was happening, before curling your hand into a fist and crushing his windpipe. 

He choked, hands flying up to his throat but then he was instantly gone, slumping forward over you in a heavy tangle of limbs. 

You groaned, shifting his body off of you, “Get off of me.” You muttered it uselessly, scrambling up and you scooped up the lightsaber, before turning to survey the hallway. 

Footsteps resounded from both ends of the hallway, and you lowered into a battle stance, adrenaline still humming through your veins and numbing everything else, everything but the fight and the goal – Din.  Along with the cool ice of battle… something heavy and alluring whispered to you, as black as night and hungry for more death. 

White armour burst into your left peripheral and you whirled toward it, flinging a hand forward and then back. 

The Stormtrooper was dragged off his feet, again trapped with the invisible pressure around his throat as he ground to a halt, legs swinging forward with the remaining force of him flying at you. 

He snarled, scrambling at his throat, “You can’t do this. You won’t beat him, no matter what you believe.” 

You rolled your eyes, letting your head fall back with a groan, “When they make you, do they implant some kind of need for all the dramatic bullshit? Honestly, whoever the first one of you was, he must have been an incredible bore.” 

The Trooper thrashed about uselessly, his weapon falling to the floor and you sensed the glare through the black visor, “At least we have hearts. And maybe we’re all the same, but we’re more human than you are.” 

Monster. 

Ah, back to this, yet again. 

Always back to this. 

Your smile was angelic, your appearance anything but. 

Long cloak hanging from your shoulders, battle suit fitted and black as coal. Your boots were stained red, the blood looking like ink on the dark leather. 

As for your face, you sported a wicked bruise to your cheekbone, a long cut across your forehead and with the blood dripping down your chin, the wild fury in your eyes… You probably looked every bit the monster they said you were. 

And you couldn’t care. 

“You think I haven’t heard this one before? How I have no humanity, no soul… I’m an abomination that shouldn’t deserve to live, blah blah blah.” You shook your head, something deadly and shadowed twisting through your blood, humming in dark delight at what you were doing, the devastation you were feeding it. 

There was a name for it. 

You knew what it was, the siren call to step over the line that you were only too pleased to answer. 

You’d deal with that later.

The Stormtrooper choked as you tightened the hold on him, obviously about to speak but then his head jerked, focusing over your shoulder. 

The other footsteps – a pair. One heavy, one light and nimble. 

Mayfeld, and Ahsoka. 

You didn’t bother turning around as you heard them skid to a stop, Mayfeld sucking in a breath at the sight around you. 

The fallen bodies of the Troopers, broken about and still smouldering, the blood coating the walls and the floor, the edge of your cloak trailing in it. The stench of death and the smell of molten plastic. 

Mayfeld whistled low, “Fucking hell…” 

You ignored them, focused on your prey, tightening that leash bit by bit. 

It was like the very air around you was alive, more frantic than normal. Your power flared, tasting the death in the atmosphere, slipping through the ship like a poison and marking where each target was. Every single obstacle between you and your love. 

You could feel their living souls, see them in your mind like glowing stars in the sky. You knew that if you went for them, you could close your eyes and still take them down as quickly and skilfully as if your eyes were open. 

Is this how Haran was so good at killing? So skilled at finding people? 

Without the distraction of sight and sound, you needn’t worry about the expressions on people’s faces, the noises they made as they died. 

With your eyes shut, using this glittering map in your mind… they were merely lights to snuff out. 

“If you follow this path… No one will be able to help you. You will have to make the choice whether to stay on it, or to fight your way out.” Ahsoka’s voice was a soft breeze in the night of your mind, softly lit in the same white as her sabers, of which one you held in your hand. 

A symbol of strength… which you had used to destroy lives. 

Your eyes opened slowly, gazing up at the Stormtrooper ahead of you. 

A choice. 

Seconds ticked by, seconds you knew were slipping away on the clock of Din’s life as you made up your mind. 

The Trooper fell to the bloody floor and your voice was demanding, no room for argument, “Take us to your little master. I except he’ll be waiting.”

~~~

~~

Booted footsteps rang out on the cold metal hallways. 

The King of Shadows and Death could move like a whisper on the wind, as if the air itself parted around him and kept him silent. 

But this time, he wanted to be heard. 

He wanted the Mandalorian to know that his hope had been in vain. 

He merely looked at the guards standing either side of the door and they nodded, one scanning the chip that would trigger the heavy locks in the door. 

It swung open and Haran crossed the threshold, gazing down at the broken Mandalorian, slumped on his cot. He grinned, cocking his head, “Time’s up, Mando. Your saviour has come to rescue you from the enemy walls. Looks like you don’t know her as well as you thought.” 

The Mandalorian growled, dried blood like rust on his beskar, “If you think you’ll walk out of this unharmed, you obviously don’t know her like you think you do.” 

The last time Haran came to see him, he had healed his injuries just enough that Mando wasn’t permanently dancing the line between being awake and being unconscious. He did nothing to remove the pain, or the severity of them, but he had prevented infection. He’d also healed his legs to the point where he could walk – barely. 

What good was a knight who fell before the Queen could finish the game? 

Haran walked over to him, hauling him to his feet. The Mandalorian was the same height as him, so he gauged he was looking right into Mando’s eyes when he whispered, “I think I know her a lot better than you think. I can tell you that she would not have come here peacefully. And she would not have let go the people that stood in her path.” 

Mando shook his head, trying to pull away from him but he was unsteady on his feet, the blood rushing from his head, “No. You’re wrong. She won’t listen to that call, to the... Dark Side or whatever it is. She’s walked that line before, and she’ll make the right decision again.” 

Haran chuckled low, half dragging the beskar-clad knight out of the door, “Oh, I don’t doubt that she’ll make the right decision. But whether or not it’s right depends on which side you’re standing on.” 

The Mandalorian groaned, hating that he couldn’t pull away from Haran, hated the weakness of his body, the unsteady, lurching footsteps of his still fractured legs and the armour that weighed down on his broken bones. “Why are you doing this? Why are you so obsessed with corrupting her? You’ve been living your sick little life for… however long it is now. Surely there’s some other person to terrorize?” 

Haran scoffed, rolling his amber eyes, “You really need to get it through that thick skull of yours – I’m not corrupting her. I’m merely bringing back someone she’s tried to bury.” He looked over at Mando, raising his eyebrows, “Has she told you? About the time she had no code of honour, of mercy?”

The man beside him snarled, his leg giving way for a moment as agony rippled up his hip, his bones screaming, “What the fuck are you talking about now?” 

It was easy to hold him up, despite the weight of his beskar and they walked down the imposing hallways, three Stormtroopers flanking them – whether it was to stop Mando trying something, or stop Haran having his fun, he didn’t know. Or care. 

“There was a time, little hunter, where your precious princess slaughtered anyone who dared stand in her way. She was broken, hungry for vengeance and only to eager to have her fill.”

Mando was quiet for a moment, the heavy scuff-drag of his boots the only sound to be heard – one he probably hated as he moved nearly as silently as Haran did. 

Something like triumph flickered over Haran’s face at his silence, “You truly didn’t know? Oh dear… There’s a lot she hasn’t told you, Lori. Things I’ve seen in her head that I doubt even she remembers she did.” He guided them around toward the corner, to where it would all come to a head. 

And to where his power was tugging him, whispering to him of the state the next hallway had been left in. 

The Mandalorian pushed away from him, summoning some kind of inner reserve of strength. He stopped, the guards pausing behind him and shifting their weapons as a warning. He looked at Haran, the harsh lighting bouncing off his beskar, revealing nothing of the man beneath and Haran wondered if he had revealed his face yet. 

“You seem to think telling me these things will bother me or make me look at her differently. Whatever she’s done, whatever terrible things she’s committed… it doesn’t change the fact that I love her.” He stepped forward, ignoring the guards as they moved too, “I’ll tell you something, Shadow man. There is a light that burns within her, a fire that could rival the very stars up there.” He pointed to the ceiling, “And no ounce of darkness, be it her own past or your own twisted powers, will ever snuff it out.” 

He moved that finger to jab Haran’s chest. “You tried to dump her at the bottom of a lake, and she came out burning brighter than before. So carry on, tell me all these horror stories to try and scare me away.” He shrugged, the rough baritone of his voice steady, ringing with loyalty and truth – and threat, “All you’re doing is making me love her even more.” 

Golden eyes flicked between the visor, assessing. Plotting. 

Then Haran smiled, a sinister, deadly smile as he inclined his head, “I don’t doubt for a second everything you said is true.” He brought his hands together behind his back, resuming the walk and he used his power to push the Mandalorian along. “I believe that you’re willing to throw down the gauntlet to protect her honour every single time someone threatens it. But I wonder… All you’ve heard is stories.” 

He walked around the corner and stopped yet again, his dark power dragging Mando to his side. “What will you do when faced with the truth first-hand?” 

The hallway was carnage. 

A bloody battlefield. 

Multiple bodies littered the stark floors, bright red blood sprayed all along the walls – even the ceiling. The once white armour of the Troopers was stained with the stuff, their bodies bent at unnatural angles, as if a strong power had taken hold of their limbs and yanked them in all the wrong directions until bones shattered and muscles tore. 

The Mandalorian looked upon the scene, the blood coating the tips of his boots. 

A dismembered hand lay just a few feet away and the severed wrist, the tendons hanging out of it... all singed. As if cleaved from the body by something white-hot and burning. 

A lightsaber. 

Which would explain why the hard shell-like armour of the fallen Troopers were marked with black holes and marks, the stench of melting plastic mingling with the reek of burnt bodies and blood. 

This was the work of someone with deadly skill, usually so precise… pushed to the edge, to this. 

Oh, it wasn’t mindless, not by any means. 

It was clearly thought out… maybe even savoured. 

Haran breathed in the smell like he was standing in a field of flowers, “Well. I have to say, I’m impressed. This looks like something I’d leave behind.” He walked through the mess of shredded bodies, a phantom wind lifting the edge of his cloak so it didn’t drag in the blood, “These poor soldiers never had the chance.” He crouched down, pushing the helmet of one Trooper – resulting in the head rolling a few inches away from his body. 

He looked at the Mandalorian, raising an eyebrow as the fluorescent lighting brought out his scars, “Still singing her praises?” 

The Mandalorian was silent, hands clenched at his sides but then he moved, not away from the scene, but toward it. 

Through it. 

Through the blood and flesh until he was standing right in front of Haran, feet splashing to a stop in the scarlet river, “Always.”

~~~

~~

Moff Gideon was waiting for you as you were escorted into a large, open chamber.

He stood there, hands clasped behind his back, with a young girl at his side – presumably his second in command.  There was a sick expression of glee on his face, dark eyes glittering with what he presumed was triumph. 

Next to him, stood Haran, clad in black as always, with that embroidered cloak holding – 

Din. 

Oh, the sight of your Mandalorian threatened to bring you to your knees as you were stopped a few metres away. 

You couldn’t see his body – obviously – but you knew simply from the way he held himself, that he was terrible injured. 

He seemed to be bearing his weight to one side, slumped over even as he stood, and you could hear is laboured breathing from here. 

Oh Din, what happened to you…

You had to admit, a small part of you wondered if there would be anything left of him when you arrived. Not from the possibility of torture, but simply from that terrible fall. 

The thought of tumbling all that way down to the ground, encased in a rock-solid metal shell… You couldn’t even fathom it. 

And yet, there Din was, still alive after something that should have killed him. 

Clearly, the Maker had plans for him. 

Gideon cleared his throat, watching the Trooper grunt retreat to the edge of the room, “Well, well. After all my time spent hunting you… Here you are.” He cocked his head, “I thought you’d be taller.” 

You rolled your eyes, sighing, “Oh stars above, please tell me this isn’t another villain speech. I hate those.” 

Haran’s lips twitched perhaps remembering this exact same conversation from his bunker. 

You flickered your eyes to him, before looking back at Moff Gideon, who was looking at you with… a rather bored expression already. 

“I was told you were insolent and arrogant, and I can see my sources were correct. They were also correct about how to summon you here.” 

He looked over at Haran, “Though it took many years for someone’s ideas to actually bear fruit. Well done.” 

Haran bristled slightly, as if taking praise from a mere human man irritated him. 

You supposed it did. 

Gideon was nothing compared to Haran, power or not.  

“Well, I would hate to disappoint you, of course.” You shot him a sweet smile, venom in your eyes, “If you wouldn’t mind, do you think you could tell me what it is you want before I take my Mandalorian here and leave this dump.” You held up your comms watch, “I have a party in Coruscant I’m due to be at and it won’t look very good if I’m late.” 

You thought you may have heard muffled chuckles from the line of Stormtroopers assembled behind him, but you paid it no heed. 

Gideon bared his teeth at you, eyes blazing, and he brought a hand in front of him to point at Din, “Do you not realise, we have your precious bounty hunter captive? Do you not realise who is holding him?” 

You looked over at Haran, shrugging lightly, “A guy who has interesting taste in fashion?” 

Did Gideon not know about the bunker or the lake? Had Haran neglected to tell him you’d met before?

Haran revealed nothing in his expression, but there was something in his eyes… something ancient… some of betrayal? Of lies? 

Moff Gideon snarled at you, “Insolent creature. You are here because we allowed you to be. In fact, the only reason that happened, is because of the failures of the people I sent after you. Had they done their job, you would have been broken long ago. That disgusting affliction of yours burnt out of you.” 

Heat licked down your spine, and the atmosphere in the room shifted as the three Force wielders within it straightened at is words, the ugly discrimination in his words. 

Dangerous game to play, Gideon. 

You kept your breathing even, feeling the shadows prowl beneath your skin, teeth and claws still dripping with blood from the hallways, wanting more, “Have you ever wondered why you’re stuck here, chasing down women and babies?” You took a step forward, anger and pride for yourself, for Ahsoka, every Force Sensitive person both dead and alive making your voice carry strong over the empty air – even pride for Haran, in some way.  

Gideon rose an eyebrow, “Do tell.” 

“You’re stuck in the past. You believe that people like us,” You motioned to yourself, “You believe we are abominations. Freaks of nature. The Force is nature. It’s the very thing that binds us all together. There is no fear in it, no monstrosity. I don’t know why it’s so hard for you people to understand.” 

The Officer sighed, shaking his head and moving a step closer as well, “Oh, I understand that. I wasn’t referring to the others in this room. I was referring to you. You, my dear, have been sick and twisted from the very moment you were born.” 

Din pulled against Haran’s grip, growling in anger, “I’d advise you to stop speaking.” 

Haran yanked him hard, “Stay quiet.” He spat the words at Din, but you didn’t fail to notice the murderous look he shot Gideon over Din’s head, his golden eyes livid. 

A shaking had taken over your hands, so you clenched them tighter around your weapons, years of abuse playing in your mind. 

But you pushed back against it, for you were stronger now. Stronger because of it, not in spite of it. 

Gideon continued, looking upon you in disgust but there was a sick fascination here too, “You have been marked for death long before you showed your powers. You think it was coincidence that the hunter was stalking you in your miserable little village? She was there on orders.” He looked over you, “A child responsible for the deaths of her parents. You might as well have pushed the blade in your mothers flesh yourself.” 

A roaring took over your head, filling your ears with the sounds of screaming, the stench of blood and the way the light sapped from your life as your parents died. 

But… the world was different now. 

It was bright again. 

Because of Din, your friends… That’s why you were here. 

You glared at Gideon, wanting so desperately to tear out his throat with your power, your hands, or even your teeth – but now wasn’t the time. You shook your head, “You don’t win this time, Gideon. I’m afraid your sad little life will be ruled by chasing me for just a little longer.” With that, you flung your hands wide, making your power explode through the room with a battering impact. 

You felt another wave at the same time as yours, fuelling it – Ahsoka’s. 

You only just managed to keep it free from Din, though Haran had thrown up a hand milliseconds before you, as if sensing what you were going to do – and evidently creating a shield. 

Gideon and the Troopers weren’t quite so lucky. 

The Force flung him through the air, causing his head to smash harshly against a metal beam and he crumpled to the ground, limp. 

Haran spun to look at him, and it occurred to you – he should have protected him too. He was working for Gideon. Or… at least pretending to be. 

Who was really calling the shots here?

No time for that now. 

You used Haran’s distraction to throw yourself at him, activating the lightsaber and unleashing yourself on him with a strangled cry of rage. 

He startled, just a few seconds too late and he pushed Din at you in an attempt to slow you down. 

Perfect. 

Just as you planned. 

You were never really going to engage in battle with him, had never intended to attack him. 

But you knew he would use Din as a shield, thinking you were too blidned in your rage – but you proved him wrong. 

Din careened into you, stumbling against your body and you both nearly tumbled to the floor, but then Cara was there, helping you support his body as he wrapped an arm around you, “You came…” His voice was hoarse, weak with pain and exhaustion. 

The relief and love in his voice nearly brought you to the ground, “Of course I came for you, Din. I will always come for you.” You gave him a watery smile, walking toward the others, keeping one eye behind you as Haran watched. 

Why wasn’t he moving… Why wasn’t he attacking?

“I saw what you did.” Haran’s silken voice called out from behind you, making you pause in your retreat. “I know you feel it. The call to the Dark Side. And I know that you answered it.” 

That would be why. 

You slowed to a stop, forcing Din and Cara to slow too. “How do you know I answered it?” You looked straight ahead, still not turning around. 

Haran sounded as though he took a step forward, “I felt it. I felt it when you allowed the Dark to show you how to get here. You saw the lives as glowing lights, a map to saving your Mandalorian. And the mess you left in that hallway…” He trailed off meaningfully, “You needn’t fear it, darling. It’s not evil. It’s merely… a different perspective.” His voice had melted into the same one that had coaxed you into swallowing the poison, into stepping off the edge. 

Here you were, yet again. Only you weren’t standing on the precipice of a raging torrent… You were standing on the edge of the Dark Side. 

And his words had instantly awoken it, set it pining for a life to be unleashed, untamed. 

Slowly, you turned around, cringing when Din’s broken feet tumbled over each other too, so you slowly let go “A different perspective…?” You cocked your head, voice starting to sound unsure as his seductive baritone filtered through your mind, weaving around it. 

He smiled, that gorgeous, disarming smile that instantly made you lock focus on him, “Yes. Others may tell you that the dark side is evil… But it isn’t. It’s simply using that power in a different way. Using it to get the things that you deserve.”

You swallowed, feet hanging over that metaphorical edge, “You – You promise? I can’t go back to that place. I can’t be a… monster again.” Your voice trembled over the word; eyes locked on his amber ones. 

Din shook his head fiercely from your left, fighting against Cara’s hold as she pulled him away, but he was too weak, “No. Sweetheart, no. Stop listening to him, please… He’s lying to you. You don’t need this. You don’t need that darkness, princess. You’re so good, so strong… please don’t do this.” 

And then you made a decision. 

You ignored Din.

And walked toward Haran. 

Stepping off of that edge. 

Haran extended a gloved hand to you, “That’s it, darling. That’s it… Coming here doesn’t make you a monster, it just means you are claiming your birth right. This is where you belong.” 

As you reached his presence, a feeling wrapped over you, muffling Din’s voice, the sounds of the others around you. You slid your hand through his, gasping a little as you felt your shadowy beast respond to his own, felt them twine around each other, greet each other. 

“I don’t…” Uncertainty still clouded your expression, and you lingered a little, worrying you were making a fatal mistake. 

He saw this, gently drawing you closer and into the circle of his arms, “No one will die. Your Mandalorian, your friends… We will help them leave safely and then… Then we can begin.” He guided your head to his neck. 

Din’s voice, though muffled, was desperate, clawing at you, “No! Cyar'ika, you can’t. Please, I’m begging you. You don’t need to go to him, you don’t need to do this. I love you. I love you for who you are, for every single thing. I’m not afraid of you, of any single part of you.” He sobbed. 

Din sobbed, reaching for you, “Please don’t leave me alone.” 

You were glad your head was pressed to Haran’s neck, because the backs of your eyes burned, shame and guilt threatening to choke you. 

You had to do this. 

You had to do it now before you shattered completely.

You were quiet, and then just… went pliant in his arms. You raised your own to his back, winding around his lean frame and lifted your face from Haran’s neck, nuzzling your nose along his neck, “I believe you.”  

“NO!!” Din fell to his knees beside Cara, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sweetheart, please don’t do this. Please-” The way his voice broke tore through your heart, and you nearly backed out right then and there. 

But you didn’t because Din… He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why you had to do this… 

Haran’s arms tightened around you, one coming up to cradle the back of your head, “Good girl. I always knew you would see the light.” A deliberate, ironic choice of words form the King of Shadows and Death.

Din’s sobs speared though you, each devasted noise threatening the tears building in your own throat. 

Raising on tiptoe slightly, you ran a hand down his back, the other splaying wide, ready. 

You brushed your lips along the smooth line of his skin, breathing in the smell of wind and midnight, “There’s just… There’s one little thing…” 

Haran nodded, his cheek resting against your hair, “Anything. Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

His words muffled the soft sound of an object flying into your hand as you let out a breath against the shell of his ear, whispering, “I will never be your Queen.” 

The sound of a lightsaber activating, not through air… but through flesh. 

Haran’s choke of surprise – and agony. 

You held his sagging body to yours, snarling, “That’s for the lake, you twisted asshole.” You stepped back, letting him fall to his knees, yanking free the lightsaber and savouring the gritted howl of agony as you tore back through more flesh and tendon. 

Those amber eyes of his blazed like molten gold, deadly and furious, “You don’t know the mistake you’re making. You’re throwing away your life with these fools.” 

You bared your teeth at him, raising the saber threateningly to his throat, letting it make the faintest contact, “Come after me again, and I will end you. I don’t care if you’re hundreds of yours old, or the King of Death or whatever else you call yourself. I’m not afraid of you. And I will destroy you before you can do the same to anyone else.” 

With that, you quickly turned, bolting toward your family and friends, “Now!!” 

Ahsoka flung her hands wide at the same time as you, creating a wide bubble of Force energy that blew through the space. 

Every Stormtrooper in the area was knocked flat on their back, instantly out like lights as you threw your arm around Din’s shoulders, trying to get him up as he stared at you. 

“What… I don’t…” His voice was bewildered, dazed with pain and he was heavy in your arms. 

You whimpered just slightly, desperation and anxiety creeping forward, the edge of battle slowly fading, “I’ll explain everything later, we have to go now, Lori. Please.” 

Mayfeld was suddenly there, supporting his other side and then you were all running for the cargo hold, leaving the destruction behind you. 

Even as you ran, Cara and Fennec scouting ahead, Ahsoka behind you aiding with the energy bubble and Mayfeld helping you carry Din… You couldn’t quite figure out how you had pulled this off. 

You’d done it. 

~~~

~~

Haran watched her leave, supporting the Mandalorian and hurrying away with her friends, her power combined with Tano’s to create an impenetrable shield around them all. 

Well… He would have gotten through with half a thought – perhaps a whole one – but any of the other fools in this place wouldn’t stand a chance. 

Many footsteps rushed into the room and then he felt hands on him, pushing away his own, trying to get to his wound. 

He looked down, saw a medic with their pack open by his side, flitting and fiddling. 

“Leave it.” His silken voice was hard ice, enough of a bite there to inform the medic what would happen if they didn’t leave. 

Despite the medics healing instincts, they knew the tone well, and moments later the kit was packed up and Haran was already turning away from the retreating figure. 

Strong. 

She had grown stronger far quicker than even he had expected. He knew it was within her, but he had thought the trauma ran deeper, its claws embedded into her very soul and creating a barrier every time she would try to tap into the power. 

Tano must have taught her how to master her fear, or how to get past it.

Useful, it saved him a job… but also irritating. If she was already harnessing that trauma, it would mean he could no longer use that aspect. 

Haran walked the path she had taken, out to the cargo load, the harsh wind roaring across the space as the tech’s struggled to gain control of the ship again, to remove whatever bug the girl and her friends had slipped in. 

No matter. It didn’t upturn his plans… just meant he had to work with a new angle. 

And fortunately, he had one, courtesy of the would-be Queen herself.

Haran had come across the bodies in the hallway on his way in here, saw the way they were dumped on the ground with their limbs at unnatural angles, their armour shattered from the inside out. 

And if the still smoking scorch marks all over their bodies weren’t indication enough, a sweep of his power had revealed massive internal devastation. 

Haran stood with a gloved hand pressed to the bleeding wound as he watched the steadily shrinking shape of a ship. A mere thought had the hole stitching back together as he extended his fingers out slowly. 

No one on the clean side of the Force would wreak havoc like that of the hallway, regardless of their love having been kidnapped and beaten. 

And that meant simply one thing. And one thing only.

She was being called to the Dark Side. 

And she’d heeded that call. 

Maybe only temporary, but the Dark Side was like Haran himself. Once you let it in, once you got that first taste… it never truly left. She could deny it all she wanted, trick him with it, think it was merely a reaction from the stress of saving the Mandalorian, but it had already rooted within her. 

He could feel it. 

Haran tipped his head back and laughed, his ebony curls dancing across his forehead as the wind tugged and pushed at his tall, lean frame. A lone pillar of darkness, hovering at the edge of the world. 

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#well this was a journey #the mandalorian x reader #edited because I realised I spelt Mayfeld wrong #the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal

[aria-i-adagio]

Fourth Try’s Not the Charm

for @autumnofanders Day 3: Kinloch

Wordcount: ~2100 Rating: T

CW: templar abuse, imprisonment, hurt/comfort

Anders didn’t plan his fourth escape from Kinloch Hold. It was a crime of opportunity. About two months after his Harrowing, some of the senior enchanters talked the Greagoir into letting them take the recently harrowed mages outside to teach them some spells that could be used with water - in the water. Supposedly, they could be trusted now. Allowed a bit more leeway.

He wasn't planning on doing anything except enjoying the sun, but once he's mastered a spell that creates an artificial current - intended to propel a boat - well, it only made sense to see if the same spell would work for a human body.

Yes.

And by the grace of Andraste or some other power, no one notices when he takes as deep of a breath as he can manage, ducks under the water, and reemerges a good fifty yards closer to shore.

Anders hides out on an overgrown bank for the rest of the day, then steals some clothes from a line and a handful or two of carrots from the ground in the little village beside the docks, and then he's gone.

It takes them one month and five days to find him in Amaranthine.

Anders is already pretty beat up when they get him back to the Tower. Greagoir is infuriated - angrier than Anders has ever seen him - and orders a public whipping to get his point across. Thirty lashes. Anders tells himself that he’ll live through that... he thinks. After about ten or so, his mind just sort of drops out, floats away, to nowhere in particular. Just somewhere very, very far away. He’s not really conscious again until someone tosses a bucket of salted water across his back, then two knights are hauling him down the steps and dumping him face-first onto a thin mattress.

The next time he’s aware of anything there’s a woman arguing with the guards outside the door.

“Sorry, ma'am, but the Knight-Commander wants him to be an example.”

“He won't make a very good example if he's dead, will he?” A very stern, determined woman. Wynne. Just what he needs. A warm, maternal tongue lashing. “Let me through. I won't do anything other than drive out infection.”

“Let her pass. Drop the dampening wards for her as well.”

The door creaks open. Anders can’t tell if the light in the cell increases. His face is too well hidden in his arms. Wynne touches his bicep and shakes him until he groans and turns his head to the side. “Hi, Mom.”

“You are the damnedest fool I’ve ever met.” Wynne tweaks his ear. “Don't you realize how much trouble you create for the rest of us? How worried some of us were about you?”

“I'm not the problem. If they didn’t -”

She sighs. “I’ve heard all of this from you before. You’re old enough to know better.”

Heat radiates from her hands as they hover over Anders’ back. It’s not a full healing spell, but it will keep the open welts from getting infected. And possibly calm the fever that Anders can tell is running dangerously high. Might get an interesting dream or two out of it to pass the time.

“That’s all I’m allowed to do.” Wynne gathers his hair at the base of his neck and brushes the back of her hand over his temple and cheek. “They're leaving you down here for two months and ten days, Anders.”

“Ah, I'll get caught up on my sleep.”

“Don’t jest. I suggest using the time to pray for some wisdom.” She pats his cheek and stands up. “You're smarter than this. You have a lot to offer if you would just learn to accept reality.”

***

Light. Even the limited light of Kinloch Hold’s entry hall is more than Anders can hand;e after two months and change in the dark. An unsympathetic Templar shoves him toward the door that leads into the library. They’re done taking him apart. If any of the other mages want to bother putting him back together, he’s their problem now.

Karl grabs him almost as soon he staggers into the library and shakes him by the shoulders. “You moron.” Then he leans close and kisses him. “You fucking idiot.”

Anders winces at the contact. A kick in the side is about as much human interaction as he’s experienced in the past... however long. In the dark, time collapses and expands in unpredictable ways.

Dark. His vision goes dark around the edges, and his knees give up.

Karl catches him and pulls Anders’ arm across his shoulder, holding him up. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Anders hadn’t had the time to fully explore the quarters where the mages who had survived the Harrowing but who weren’t yet enchanters slept. The baths off to the side are about the same as the ones in the apprentices’ dorm though. Cast iron tubs with chips in the enamel and a few folding screens to approximate privacy. Hand pumps for water. A drain in the floor for the same.

They’re on the second tub of water, and Anders is beginning to worry about just what Karl used as a bribe to get this much water and time. “I’m going to have to cut these out.” Karl has been trying for what seems like hours now to work loose the mats in Anders’ hair. Or maybe they’ve only been here a few minutes; Anders isn’t sure.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles.

“Maker, baby...” Karl pushes lightly on the back of his head. Anders lets his chin fall forward onto his chest. The sound of metal scraping together grates against his ears as Karl begins snipping clumps out of his hair. Karl is careful, working slowly and pushing his fingers along Anders’ scalp to keep from cutting the skin by mistake. It’ll grow back. Just like skin does.

He rests his elbows on the edge of the tub and lets his fingers dangle in the water. It’s warm, he knows, but he can’t really feel it, any more than he could really feel the rough fabric of a washcloth scrubbing across his skin.

“What are you humming?” Karl is still trimming, maybe trying to even out the length.

“Am I humming?” Anders started singing to himself maybe a week, maybe two, after he was left alone. Then it turned to humming. He doesn’t even think about it now.

Karl leans around him, scoops up a double handful of water, and rinses out his hair. “There we go.” He presses his cheek against Anders, beard prickling against freshly shaven skin. “Let’s get you dried off and dressed. Do you want to try to walk a bit? The garden is still nice.”

Anders can’t find the energy to respond or even to raise his hand and investigate the feeling of short hair. Karl decides for him, guiding him to the kitchens and begging a bowl of soup and a thick chunk of bread from one of the Tranquil cooks. He sits across from Anders, watching as he eats. Anders doesn’t finish the food, his stomach starts to feel tight and painful before he’s even halfway through. He stares at the surface of the thin soup and stirs it absently.

“Can’t eat more? They’ve starved you too.” Karl reaches across the table and touches his face, frowning when Anders reflexively pulls away. “I’ve never seen your cheeks so hollow.”

“Shoulda left the beard then.”

Karl almost smiles. “Let’s try to stretch your legs a bit then.”

Even though the autumn day is overcast, the garden is almost too bright. Anders has to pull up the hood of his robe to shade his eyes before he can bear it, and he isn't able to walk far before he has to sit down on one of the stone benches. So much for running.

The walled garden is busy with mages trying to catch a bit of sun before winter sets in, but everyone except Karl gives him a wide berth. Anders has no complaints, he can barely manage to not cry with delight from hearing other human voices - or to panic because he’s no longer accustomed to hearing the sounds of people interacting with each other and going about their business.

How much he can stand to be touched comes and goes, but after the first several times Anders flinched away, Karl waits for him to initiate anything, not even daring to hold his hand. It’s probably safer for Karl if that remains the case. Anders just creates trouble for anyone who cares about him.

“You should go. They’ll be watching anyone with me.”

“Fuck that. Besides, I’m already marked.”

“I’m sorry, Karl.” Anders slumps against his shoulder, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to not start crying. Maybe it’s just the light causing his eyes to water.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

“Can we go back inside? I’m tired.” He hadn’t expected to be tired after spending so much time sleeping.

“Yes. If that’s what you want.”

***

Anders’ bed is just as he left it. No one had taken the opportunity to steal a desirable lower bunk tucked into the corner. A sign of respect? Or just Karl zealously guarding it? Who knows?

Anders crawls in and lays down gingerly on the mattress. His back is finally whole as of an hour or two ago when Karl peeled the filthy shirt off him, squeaked in dismay, and healed the one or two remaining welts that had been stubbornly refusing to close up. But Anders has gotten accustomed to moving with care to avoid reopening them. It’ll be some time before he’ll be able to bring himself to move carelessly, freely again.

Anders curls on his side and lays his head down on the large pillow, wrapping his arms around the much smaller one his mother gave him. The threads of the artful needlework are beginning to fade, much like the memory of her face.

Karl shakes out a blanket, drapes it over him, and starts to pull the curtains around the bed.

“No.” All the muscles in Anders’ body tighten, and his right calf spasms painfully. “Stop.”

Karl freezes. His eyes widen then soften with something between pity and pain of his own. Anders reaches out to him. “Will you stay with me? Please. Please don’t leave me alone. And not in the dark.”

Karl sits on the edge of the bed and strokes Anders’ hair. The short length transfers more of the sensation to his scalp, and Anders chokes back the sob that the gentle contact elicits.

“Do you want me to lay down with you?”

Anders nods. His throat is too tight to speak. Karl crawls into bed next to him and pulls the curtains around it partially closed, leaving at least some light streaming in. He folds one arm under his head and continues stroking Anders' hair and cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” Karl whispers.

Three, nearly four months, counting the time Anders was on the run and if in fact, Greagoir had only left him locked up for the time he first named and hadn’t conveniently forgotten about him for a few days or weeks more than promised.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the problem. It’s this miserable place.”

“Keep talking.” Anders hasn't heard voices that weren't gruff commands in so long. “Please. Anything. Tell me what happened while I was...” His voice trails off.

“Hmm... Amaury finished his thesis. He’s got two apprentices now. One accidentally set a tree in the garden on fire last week. He let the Templars scramble for a minute or two before extinguishing it.”

Anders smiles, even if he can't quite find the strength to laugh.

“Speaking of Templars, two were caught at it in a stairwell the other day, and dear Knight-Captain Maude is furious because she'd been tupping one of them, but she can't say anything of course, because you know Greagoir frowns on cross rank relationships. So that's been a bit fun to watch.”

“Ah, so much honor and self-restraint from our selfless protectors.”

“As always. Let’s see... The Formari were asked to up their production of goods. I guess the Chantry didn’t get enough donations this year, or some Revered Mother wants new drapery for her halls. Pity that increased speed increases mistakes. Exponentially, of course.”

“Of course.” The Tranquil within the Formari might not care about being asked to do more, but the enchanters would find subtle ways to indicate their displeasure.

“Enchanter Ines managed to arrange another research trip, so every mage with any training in botany or herbalism is jockeying for a position. Have you ever seen what happens when a growth spell is cast on a fly trap?”

“Please tell me the overgrown carnivorous plant caught a Templar.” Anders manages a chuckle. “I should ask to go. Ines loves me. Maybe I could take a vow of silence."

"Now, now -” Karl kisses the tip of his nose. “Don't make promises you can’t keep.”

#autumnofanders #dragon age fanfiction #anders #karl thekla

[evashearta]

denial.

it was a sunny day. 

the lush green specked with flowers seemed to show all life in its youth, so fragile and young yet so full of energy. 

the birds were filling the air with buzzes and chirps, all so busy with finding a mate. 

as is usual, hitler took his berghof companions out on a picnic in the woods, he quite liked such outings, along with his valet linge. this time he allowed eva, his lover to come along... he knew that she ruled the berghof as he wanted to rule the world someday. he had given her power, where he left her caged. some kind of illusory status to a flittery bird like her. his toy. his forgetting. his sweet craving in the night...

“ah, the sunshine is so pure, the clouds are clear, it seems nature itself is celebrating my birthday. ah, those days,... what a beginning i had, in that little village on the meeting lines of austria and germany. it was destiny that shined upon me the day i was born, this very same stroke of sun that lit my eyes and led me to this fate. ah, in those days where i was but a poor little boy, when i was nothing but a grain of dust, inconsequential. even then the rage, the calling came forth to me and....

hitler rambled on, the rest, too scared to intervene. eva knew how much reassurance he needed, that he was no grain of dust, that he was a big shot, a world changer a rule breaker, a fate. 

eva knew how frail he was. 

his body.. was losing that same robust desire that once animated it, his thoughts more and more repetitive, predictable, flat, imitating of his own self image. 

as time passed, linge eventually brought up the good weather, goebbels had come a bit late with his children and the secretaries were fawning over them. 

eva was smiling too but, she felt an insatiable hunger inside her. 

she had been losing appetite for life all in all. deprived, small, confined. the only thing that satisfied her heart was when he would pull her tight to his body, even if it was just to...

“eva do you want a drink?”

“why of course, mein fuhrer. a glass of mineral water please.”

“here, have this bit of sandwhich, mein tschapperl. you havent-”

“its fine, adi. im not hungry now”

he looked at her, worried. what did this man want from her? why did he care so much about her health, her image according to his virtues, forbidding her a girls love of cigarettes and dancing? she knew well what his dr morell was giving him. 

“oh, why. i have to excuse myself, but i have just remembered that i have a little meeting with my friend herta. thank you, sorry i must leave you so abruptly.”

“i will escort you.”

puzzled, eva accepted adolf’s request. he seemed more and more paranoid as of late, enemies, enemies everywhere, he said. the whole berghof area was now fenced and highly protected, which was quite good as no more pilgrims would come so near. but, she was worried about him too. she loved him, deeply so. but he hurt her, puzzled her, used her.. no, its his way of loving isnt it? there is good in him, there must be something-

he pulled her hand towards him a bit stronger, massaging it almost. it sent goosebumps all over her body. she started to move her hand towards his arms, hoping for an embrace, a kiss maybe.. she was so desperate for intimacy, attention. all those cameras.. she needed to see those eyes as they are again. 

brusquely he pushed her off but she grabbed his sleeve, trying to hold his hand- she couldn’t help herself.

“please-”

he shot her an icy, cold gaze. there was resentment in those eyes, waiting to lash out. 

“how dare you think you mean anything to me!! i the greatest man of germany and you nothing. driven by your own primitive impure desires you are nothing to the might of my willpower, nothing to my destiny as the savior of germany! i must remain pure, like rienzi, i must remain like the purest ray of light upon this earth, coming from above! and you? you are nothing but filthy vermin trying to pull me down, make me human, twist my soul in anguish and bewitch me you despicable-”

he raised his arm and eva welled into tears. he saw his ascetic fantasy of himself suddenly come into question, and the guilt whipped him into rage, the sheer pain of being human, of showing her being human, was too much for a man living a dream. 

“adolf please dont-”

too late. it wasnt so much the burning clasp of his hand that hurt her, as much as his sphynx-like contradiction in the heart of his personality that made him switch like that, forget all that he ever was- to her. what he showed her, what that man would do under the cover of the night, how gentle, soft, caring a mask he could put on. but she liked to believe it was all true. 

eva was left there, alone, deserted, to cry in the woods. 

what had she done wrong? 

why did he keep her here?

#choccy #eva braun #reichblr #history fanfiction #eva braun fanfiction #ww2 fanfiction