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littlestarlightseverywhere · 5 months

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This Love

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel would set the world on fire if it that’s what it took for his mate believe she deserves his love

Warnings: None

Notes: Hiii! This is my first ACOTAR fic on tumblr! Az is my man my man my mannnn and I just love thinking about him. Here’s a little something that came to mind when I was listening to “This Love” by Taylor Swift

Image Credit: “This Love” Taylor’s Version lyric video

Azriel sat hunched over in the plush velvet chair in Rhysand’s office. His elbows dug into his strong thighs as he clasped his hands together, focusing on the slow, mindless movement of his thumb over the ball of his knuckle.

“I think the Cauldron got it wrong.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian asserted eloquently.

“The Cauldron doesn’t simply ‘get things wrong’,” Rhysand said softly from where he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. Cassian, lounging in the chair across from Azriel, threw his hands in the air.

“It takes longer for some people than others, you know.”

“I knew far before Feyre did,” Rhysand supplemented.

“Anyone with eyes can tell how she feels about you. It’s beyond me you don’t see the way she looks at you, brother.”

Azriel was at a loss. Pining after the same woman for decades proved brutal on the heart. Downright treacherous, really, considering he felt the mating bond snap a long time ago and she had given almost no indication she felt anything of the like.

He knew she liked him in the way a person “likes” their best friend who knows them inside out, has been with them through every insignificant or life-altering moment, and embraces every part of them– even the messy bits. No, Azriel had no doubt in his mind that she loved him. She’d said as much multiple times, which left him feeling even more confused.

He didn’t want to push her for fear of ruining what they already had. Things were good, he’d even go so far as to say things were perfect between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, the picture of good, and there were many things he’d done wrong to get to where he is today. Still, she was the one thing he did right. The best part about his life. Whether she knew it or not, it was his truth and he swore if it came down to it, he’d stand to do right by her before Prythian.

“She just has everything together. I don’t want to take up space in a life where she has everything figured out. We are in good places in each other's lives. I would hate to pressure her to change any of it for me.”

“You say that as if you'd be ruining her life,” Cassian’s anger simmered to a sadness. “She’d never think that.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjected. “You’re breaking your own heart waiting for her to feel the bond snap. Maybe you need to help her on.”

“I would never put her on the spot like that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting–”

“What if she’d rejected the bond somehow?” Azriel stood up, legs suddenly overcome with the sensation of a thousand little fire ants devouring his skin.

“Now you’re just making shit up.” Cassian huffed, returning to anger.

“How else can any of this be possible? How can she be so oblivious?”

“There is one way,” Rhys offered, suddenly solemn.

Azriel and Cassian looked to their brother expectantly. Azriel felt his heart hammer against his chest in anticipation. A reason was good. A reason was a start. A reason meant that there was a way out of this purgatory he found himself in.

“I read it in one of Amren’s books a long time ago,” Rhys locked eyes with Azriel. “When the mating bond has snapped into place for one of the fae in the pair and the other has absolutely no indication of it, usually it is a sign that they are not looking for a mating bond at all.”

“A lot of people don’t go looking for it,” Cassian reasoned. “I myself was more of the let-it-happen-when-it-will type.”

“Not looking for it in the sense that they don’t believe they deserve it. In the way that perhaps it's simply not meant for them.”

Silence fell over the three males. Azriel felt his heart shatter, pieces of it falling deep into his gut, turning it over and making him uneasy.

“If anyone doesn’t deserve this it’s me.” Azriel whispered.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned.

Rhys continued softly. “When they believe that, they inadvertently shield themselves from feeling anything… including a bond even if it does exist. A defense mechanism of sorts.”

The body protecting itself from heartbreak so painful that it registered it as a physical ailment. Azriel was going to be sick.

He couldn’t believe the love of his life felt that way. He wondered for how long she’d lived with such a belief, how long she’d been giving him her love while accepting none of his. He wanted to tear down the mountains around Velaris, move them, raise them, turn them to dust, anything he could manage to get her to believe him when he told her he loved her.

He barely felt he deserved her at all. It made him queasy with devotion and grief that she loved him enough to ever think she was the undeserving one.

Azriel was so far past worrying that she did not feel the mating bond anymore. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved by him in a way that brought him to his knees.

Her second favorite part of the year after Winter Solstice: Starfall.

Elaine spent most of the day in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Mor, Feyre, Nesta sat on her bed, lounging on the expansive mattress before it was time to get ready for the party.

While everyone else had their dresses picked out, she was still between options.

“Okay, option one.” She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, twirling dramatically in a golden trumpet dress that shimmered like woven sunlight.

Mor howled and Nesta smirked in satisfaction.

She turned to look into the mirror and study her body. She felt her heart palpitate as her mind immediately dared to wonder what Azriel would think. Would he like it? She shook my head quickly to clear the thoughts. It didn’t matter what he thought anyway.

Feyre sat back, tilting her head with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. “It’s not bad. I caught a glimpse of the other gown earlier…” The ends of her mouth curled upwards.

The second dress was her personal favorite too. A silk, dark navy sheath that hung from her curves elegantly. It shimmered of silver and lavender under the light like the stars had been gathered from the sky and threaded into the material, one by one.

“Yes.” All three chanted at the same time as soon as she walked out again, clad in the dress that looked like it had been made only for her. There was no room for theatrics as her best friends gazed approvingly.

She did not need to look in the mirror to know this is the dress she wanted to wear. After all, she loved the color blue.

The rest of the girls got ready before she did. She went back and forth on hairstyles and makeup multiple times. Nuala and Cerridwen were more than patient, as were her friends who all waited downstairs for her before they’d leave for the House of Wind together.

“This is as good as it will get, I suppose,” She looked in the mirror one final time before descending the stairs that led to the living room below.

As soon as she neared the middle of the stairs, a shadow slipped around her ankle and up her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. It slipped back down her arms gently, like a lover’s admiring touch, and down the stairs again.

Azriel was the first to turn. His senses were always tuned to her without his knowledge or deliberate effort. Her presence was like a beacon in his darkness. A lighthouse to his boat on treacherous waters. He could sense her in a crowded room in a heartbeat just by the way his heart would pound and his skin would warm.

Their eyes locked and he felt a pull in his chest. Almost with a start, he realized it wasn’t even the mating bond, though it also hummed within him. Even despite the mating bond, tender yearning filled his chest at the sight of her standing at the bottom of the stairs now. Pure love. The Cauldron blessed him this one time, perhaps the only time it ever would, giving him the mate it did. Yet he knew, especially in that moment as he drank in the sight of her glowing skin, shy smile, and deep eyes, he would love her even if they were not bound together in this way. He knew he’d choose her over and over and over again. He’d give anything to have her look at him the way she was right now, forever.

Still, Azriel’s heart wrenched as he recalled why she couldn’t feel the mating bond– this thing that crooned and moaned, twisted and sung, wrenched and wrested to be felt by the only other person in the world who it belonged to, not understanding why it hit a wall everytime it tried to reach out to its other half. His other half.

Something like pride came over Azriel as he noticed everyone else stop and stare. Their friends welcomed her with hugs and kisses and compliments and he watched her be loved and by all of their friends. He wanted to say something as their eyes met again. What would he say first? Azriel had a waterfall of words teetering at the tip of his tongue, flowing straight from the pits of his heart, but supposed telling her she was beautiful was a good start.

But before he could say anything, Mor gathered her and Elaine into her arms before winnowing them to the House. Feyre, Nesta, and Amren followed them a second later.

Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a rare, soft smile on his lips. “Don’t waste another day, brother.”

With Varian uncomfortably nestled in Cassian arms, they were off to the House too.

The celebration was grand as usual. Food and drink flowed from every corner of the room and everyone danced without a second to rest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She danced with her friends for the longest time; Mor swirled her around the room and Nesta challenged her to keep up.

He stayed within the chattering crowd that boxed in the dance floor, sipping mulled wine and adjusting a fine thread on his jacket every now and again.

She excused herself from Nesta’s ceaseless dancing for some air. Her face was flushed, body warm, but she was happy. Once she reached the doors to the balcony and closed them behind her, she reveled in the immediate silence that followed.

The night air was cool on her flushed skin, the wind a caressing and most welcome touch.

A few minutes later, she heard the balcony door open behind her. Of course she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. It was the only person that would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.

“Are you quite parched, yet?”

She turned around to find Azriel standing there, tall, broad, and beautiful, with two glasses of mulled wine.

“Quite.” She affirmed with a smile. He walked toward her until they were elbow to elbow, as close as he dared, before handing her the glass. She proposed they toasted to the spirits, who would begin their migration soon, for a safe journey. He obliged.

They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence. Any minute now the show would begin and everyone would move to the main balcony to watch and continue their dancing. This smaller balcony was perfect for just the two of them.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Azriel said as he did not bother to observe the first few stars that crossed the sky in glittery streaks of silver and gold. Next to her, everything else paled in comparison.

Her heart trembled at the compliment. It wasn’t the first compliment he’d given her, far from it, but coming from him they always meant so much.

With the wine in her system, accompanied with whatever was in Cassian’s flask when it was offered to her an hour ago, she said. “I wore this dress for you.”

The choice of color was not lost on him. The next few stars that soared across the sky caused his inky blue siphons to glisten in their glittery light. A perfect match to her silk.

“It suits you.” Azriel hated that his heart was hammering like this. He felt the love in his chest hum like a magnet, the bond snap like a rubber band against his lungs, stealing their air.

She didn’t say anything, only turned to look at him and he did not back away from her eye contact. Only returned it with such intensity that they now spoke with their eyes, a conversation that could never be expressed with mere words, an exchange between soulmates that remained only between them, not even the sky and stars privy to those thoughts.

Before his mind could refuse or reason with him, he closed the gap between the two of them, taking her elbow in his large hands. She allowed him to guide her to his strong body, eager to follow his lead.

His hands dropped to her waist, a respectable distance above her hips, though she would be pleased if he dared to go lower.

“I think about you all the time.” He spoke softly as he drew her as close as she could get. Their bodies were touching, and she was sure he could feel her heart hammering like a bird trying to take flight in a locked cage.

“You don’t,” She whispered as the stars began to rain across the sky in glimmering streams of light. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to stop before she made a fool of herself. But her body forced her to stay put, to soak in his warmth, the feeling of him against her, to allow herself to indulge in this.

“I do.” His voice was strong, tone resolute. He held her gaze. “I would never lie. Not to you. You are the one thing in my life I would spend the rest of my immortality living for. You’ve captivated me since the moment I met you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove it, I would gladly call it my life’s work. I can’t keep this from you any longer. If that makes me selfish…”

She reached her hand out to cup his jaw. He leaned into it immediately. Her touch was soft against his face and he thought about how nice it would be to stay like this forever.

Starfall was in full effect. Music and laughter from the other balcony was but a distant, muffled, chorus to him and he watched the shine of the raining stars reflect off of her eyes and skin. Like a work of art, he observed. My mate, my mate, my mate, his insides thrummed.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He understood the look in her eyes, the silent permission, the mutual yearning. In an act of mercy, blessing, and loss of control, he slanted his lips over hers, dropping his hands lower on her waist, shifting one to her lower back to support how flush to his body he held her.

She wrapped his arms around his neck, damning the voices in her head telling her none of this was real, that he’d regret it and take it all back in the morning. Deep down she knew even if other men would, Azriel would never. She gave into him, leaned into him, let him in everywhere he demanded it.

She didn’t think about how long she spent in his arms, connected to him like this. Her breath hitched as he felt her squeeze her waist and use the hand that was at the small of her back to travel upward caressingly, taking his time to feel her skin, the dips and planes of her body through the silk, to rest at the back of her neck.

Azriel was so wholly in love he didn’t even have to think about his next move or any kind of thought. Being with her was natural, like second nature.

She pulled away just long enough to breathe, caressing his swollen bottom lip with her thumb as she moved to hold his jaw. He smiled drunkenly at her, watching as she blushed and indulged herself in the feel of his face.

As the stars rained over Velaris in glittering dashes across the perfect canvas of the night sky, she stood with Azriel, holding him as he held her, suddenly keenly aware of what it felt like to be loved by him.

Azriel’s eyes softened in realization, relief, as he felt the hum of the bond break through his chest for the first time in decades. It extended outward freely, like a bird let loose, soaring like the stars in the sky to meet its other half.

She gasped softly as she felt a snap in her chest. A snap that realigned worlds, parted clouds, mended something broken, that marked a shift in time.

She understood.

“Az…” she whispered, almost wanting to not believe it.

He nodded, letting her feel his touch as she worked through the new emotions.

“How long have you known?” She brought her arms down from his neck to hold his hands. His bigger palms enveloped hers easily, warm and strong. Sure.

“Decades.” He shook his head slightly as if it was common sense he’d been in love with her for so long, refusing to break eye contact with her.

“And all this time… you waited? You never– I never thought…”

“I can’t think of anything else I’d want to spend my entire life loving.” He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear to see her better. To remind himself this wasn’t a dream, not this time.

She allowed Azriel to pull her in again, savoring the way his lips tasted, how soft they felt, the way he held her like she’d vanish if he even lifted a finger. It was a grasp that made her want for nothing anymore. Everything she wanted was right here.

“It seems,” she breathed, slightly out of breath after they pulled away again. “I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time.”

“I’d wait any amount of time for you.” He murmured, running his thumb back and forth over the nape of her neck. “I’d do anything.”

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odiesdayoff · 7 months

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Trust Your Instincts

pair: Jaime Reyes x fem!reader

summary: Post-graduation, your childhood friend seems to be ignoring you. Once he shows up, secrets are revealed, voluntarily or not.

warnings: SMUT (18+++ MINORS DNI); begins as like pretty dubious, but turns into both parties consenting. Really thin line here, they do have a mutual attraction and explicitly say that they want it.

im gonna be so real i saw an ad for this and started writing...lol. Haven't seen BB at the time of writing this a while ago! Characters are prob inconsistent. i just have like a severe mask kink.

honestly this is unfinished, but i know in my heart I will never get back to it no matter how many times I say it lol. Imagine what happens next teehee.

“He’s not coming?” You brought the towel from over your shoulder and continued to dry the plates as Jaime’s mother handed them to you. Lunch was over and you were excited to see your best friend, but he was awol.

She gave you a sympathetic look as she handed you another clean plate. “I’m sorry, mija. He’s been acting strange ever since he got back. I know he misses you.”

You nodded and placed the towel on the counter. There’s no way he could possibly just up and abandon you after all this time. The two of you had been best friends since the first grade and even though he went all the way to Gotham City for college and you stayed in Texas, you were still close as ever. At least you think so.

“Well, I’ve gotta go. Thank you for the lunch, you know how much I adore your cooking.” You brought her into a hug and she kissed your cheek. She was like a second mom to you. All of Jaime’s family was basically your own. It took this long for them to stop the teasing about you getting together.

It had been months since Jaime allegedly returned to Texas and yet, he hasn’t reached out to you. Not by phone or in person, no matter how much you tried to talk to him. It felt worse than any breakup you’d gone through. Usually, he was the shoulder for you to cry on.

A loud crash woke you up. It was around two in the morning. In your flannel pajama pants and a black tank top, you ran into your living room to see what happened. There was a large hole where your door should have been and laying on the floor was Jaime.

Your hand flew to your mouth and knelt down to him. His curls stuck to his forehead from sweat and his chest rapidly rose and fell. “Get away! Please, get away!” He pushed you away, yelling and borderline whimpering.

There was something wrong with him and you weren’t just going to do what he told you. “Jaime, please just tell me what’s going on. You’re not okay.” You pushed his hair from his face only to see the fear in his eyes as he looked at you.

He flipped to his back and crawled until he hit the wall, his body colliding into it. Another dent appeared. Chips of drywall fell on him. “I’m…gonna call an ambulance, okay?”

You pulled out your phone, but before you could even unlock it, it was no longer in your hand. Jaime, now fully covered in a blue suit of armor, crushed it in his hand. “Oh my god.”

He dropped the phone and shook his head. “I don’t control it. It controls me. I promise you.” His voice was slightly distorted due to the helmet he had on.

“Okay, so can’t you call, like, Batman or something?” If this were a normal situation, you know that he would’ve laughed.

He held your shoulders. “I need you to get away. Right now.”

You shook your head. “I’m not gonna leave you like this.”

A robotic voice came from the suit, saying your full name and society security number. Jaime started to shake his head frantically and tried to step away from you. The suit disagreed.

The suit trapped you against the counter. “Please stop!” Jaime yelled. His helmet popped open to reveal his face, still scared. “I’m so sor-” The suit didn’t let him finish, instead it pushed him towards you. His lips crashed into yours.

You felt guilty kissing back. It wasn't either of your volition, but the teenage version of yourself was screaming and frolicking in a field of flowers just to be kissing him.

The robotic voice returned, louder now. “It is my duty to keep you healthy. Sexual health is one of those aspects.” The suit retracted more, pulling his shirt and jeans from his body. He was left in his boxers, staring at you. It continued. “I know you have a crush on her. Don’t be a pussy.”

His eyes widened and his cheeks grew red. “Is that true?” He sheepishly nodded.

You bit your lip. “It’s true for me, too.”

#jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle #odiesdayoff

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legitalicat · 3 months

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Out of Time

Chapter 1 - "Along Blackwater Bay"

AN: This dedication has been removed. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy your works.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon awakes on the shore of Blackwater Bay confused, hurt, and alone. She is found and escorted to the Red Keep, where she learns the circumstances surrounding her awakening.

TW: memory loss, reader is AFAB, talks/descriptions of injury, first person POV because I suck at any other POV I am sorry

Word count: 3.7 K

I awoke on the shores of King’s Landing, the water from Blackwater Bay rushing up my lower legs. My heart was pounding as I sat up. There was no reasonable explanation as to how I ended up here. Last night I went to sleep in my bed, feeling rather warm and fuzzy from the wine I had consumed at dinner.

The early morning light was shining through the mist that was coming off the water. Slowly, I made my way into a standing position. My black dress was torn around the hem, soaked from the sea water. My muscles were sore and my bones stiff. Every breath I took felt as though I was being punched in the left side. I was near certain my brown hair was wild, no longer in the neat braid I most commonly kept it in.

There weren’t any citizens on the shores this time of morning. For many, they would have already went out in their boats to begin their fishing for the day. The others, it was simply too early to start the day. However, I did see two city watchmen doing their rounds on the docks.

“Excuse me!” I shouted to them, waving my arms. They approached me, their gold cloaks shining in the sun. I recognized neither of them.

“Princess Y/N?” One asked as he stopped in front of me. I nodded softly. “Come with us.”

I could not really tell which guardsmen they were. They were in full armor, donning a helm and chainmail covering all but their eyes. Being roughly the same height as each other, that wasn’t even helpful to determine who I was following. However, I knew that nobody wearing golden cloaks would bring any harm to me. My stepfather would have their heads if my mother didn’t get to them first.

So, I made the only decision I could make in this instance. Silence laid over us like a thick fog as I walked with them through the city streets. One in front of me, one behind me, their hands on the swords at all times. We went to the barracks at which point they told me to stay in the front room. The one that had walked in front of me went off , I suppose to inform his commander of this situation, while the other man stood in the room with me. It was not long before there were a few other watchmen and even a serving girl to sit with me.

Nobody dared to speak to me other than what was necessary. Even when I threatened them with my status, first born child of the heir to the Iron Throne and betrothed to her heir, so that one day I would be Queen, did not loosen their tongues. None of my questions were answered. All that was said was that my mother would answer any question I had.

They spent longer than I thought necessary preparing a carriage to take me up to the Red Keep. I was almost certain I heard their commander send a small group of men to shut down the streets between here and the Red Keep but that couldn’t be right. Never had the streets been closed because of my travels, as there had never been a time that I was in danger. Once he received word that all the streets were closed and nobody would be looking to the street, I was put into a carriage.

My ride to the Red Keep was done with the singular maid in the carriage with me, one watchmen controlling the carriage, and three others riding around on horseback. They weren’t brought to my precession until after I was already in my seat. And still, nobody spoke to me. I could only glance out the windows at the city to try to see the citizens of King’s Landing, but it seemed though I had heard the Watch’s Commander correctly and the men did completely empty the streets.

It was midday by the time that the carriage stopped in front of the door to the keep. The door was opened and I was offered a hand to help me out. It was the first protocol that had been kept in my presence. And now that I was on the ground, I finally saw the first people besides the Gold Cloaks and the maid.

At the top of the stairs stood my mother, my step grandmother holding her hand tightly as they both looked at the carriage. Queen Alicent had always been a forceful presence in my life, demanding things of my mother and father that were crude and unfair. Though she never liked my brothers, I seemed to be near and dear to her in a way that not even her own daughter was. One could almost convince me she viewed me separately from them as though I were anyone but my mother’s daughter.

Flanking each of them were their respective sides of the family. My twin, my betrothed, Jacaerys stood beside my mother. He was more shocked than I had ever seen him when we made eye contact. There was Lucerys beside him, who looked older than he should as he was a man grown, and the same could just about be said about Joffrey. The other two boys on my mother’s side could’ve only been Aegon III and Viserys II, my two baby brothers, but they were not babies. They were easily nine and seven respectively. It shouldn’t have been possible. It was only last night that they could have easily fit in my arms, now they were half my height.

When I looked to Alicent’s side, Aegon and Aemond stood beside her with Helaena further back. Her three children, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor stood hand in hand beside of her. Again, everyone looked older than they should, older than when last I saw them.

My step father Daemon and my step sisters Rhaena and Baela were not with my mother, but the maid whispered to me that they were visiting our grandparents in Driftmark. She gave me no answers to any other question.

Out of everyone, there were three people that desperately wanted to break free from the crowd. Obviously my mother was trying to hold some decorum, some sort of semblance of what it means to be a Targaryen, even though I could see her inching closer. Jace was completely frozen with shock, the pull that existed between us not enough to motivate his feet. Then there was Aemond, who seemed to be willing to disregard all things that could be considered proper as he took the steps two at a time to close the distance between us.

His arms were around me before I could blink, and despite the physical pain when he touched my side, it caused a comfortable feeling in my brain that soothed something inside of me. I returned his affections, desperate for some sort of connection. As much as it had always annoyed my brothers, Aemond and I were very close growing up. He and I were the last to get dragons, the last to fulfill what it means to be a Targaryen. It binds you in ways that you can’t explain to anyone else.

“Byka zaldrīzes,” he whispered to me. Little Dragon, the name he gave me the moment he claimed Vhagar, to assure me one day I would have one too. “How I have missed you.”

“I don’t understand, Aemond. Why is everyone acting as though I am not real? One would think I died.” I asked him, loud enough so that my voice would carry.

“You have been gone for nearly six years,” my mother said. I pulled myself from Aemond’s grip to look at her.

“What?” my voice was cracked under the pressure that was building in my chest. “No. No. I was just with you all last night. I would know if I had been gone.”

Then I turned my gaze to Jace, who still looked as though he has seen a ghost. His inability to come to me, the way he watched me like I was about to dissolve in the wind, not even commenting on Aemond’s grasp on me, it told me all I need to know. The words were true and I had missed out on six years.

But I needed him beside me. He was my brother, my twin, I have existed for as long as he has and will continue to exist as long as he does. We were written in the stars, always destined for each other. We had given each other everything as we knew we were to be married one day.

“Issa dārys,” I called to him. My king. He will be my king one day, a good husband and father to my future children. We will rule the kingdom together, side by side. We’ve known this for our entire lives, and once we could really understand it, there was no turning back.

He slowly descended the stairs to me. Our eyes stayed glued to each other as he closed the distance. My body yearned for him. He was my other half; we were not two separate entities, simply just two pieces of the same soul.

When he was within arm’s reach of me, his ability to show restraint faltered. He grabbed me by the face and kissed me, all regard for propriety out the window. But it wasn’t as though I minded. I belonged to Jace, I always had, so it was only natural that I returned his affections. Propriety be damned.

It was less than a minute, rather tame compared to all other kisses we’ve shared, but the moment it was over, I become increasingly aware of cracks forming in my heart. His forehead resting against mine, I could guarantee I was home. I was safe as long as we were together.

My mother had informed me that I was not to be alone for the coming weeks. When we were alone in the room I had growing up here, she held me to her and cried. She insisted on me having a bath before I see the Maesters. A few of her most trusted maids helped me out of my dress and into the bath. The way her face contorted in mental anguish, tears forming in her eyes, as she looked over my body was something I would never forget. A glance in a mirror showed I had bruises and scars scattered across my body, including over my ribcage on the left, and a busted lip I was unaware of until now.

“If it brings any comfort, I do not remember it happening,” I said to her quietly as she sat beside the tub. There was a failed attempt to prove to her I was okay as I went to pour water over my hair, but the stretching motion caused enough pain I lost my breath.

“It causes me more worry than anything,” she told me. Her voice was fragile in the same way a flower is, soft and delicate, able to be broken in one move if anyone chose. “But it is nothing you need to fret over. We shall have the Maesters examine you and treat you, in a few weeks it will be as though this didn’t happen.”

Mother asked the maids to go inform the Maesters of our need and then sent one to bring me food from the kitchens. I think it was in equal part that she needed to feel useful but also needing to just be alone with me. There was no part of my brain that could even fathom what she had been feeling for these years.

She caught me up on all of the happenings in our family while she washed me. The night I had gone missing, my grandsire was greeted by The Stranger. She lost the babe she had been pregnant with within a few days of that, a girl that was named Visenya. It was an impossible amount of grief to deal with in such a short time and all I wanted was to take away all of her pain and suffering.

“Did Otto not try to put Aegon on the throne?” I whispered to her as she took her time gently washing my hair. She refused to let it wait for the maids, insisting that five years is long enough for someone else to care for me.

“He wanted to, but when I sent Alicent a letter informing her of your disappearance, she halted her father’s plans,” she told me. “Nobody, not Aegon nor Aemond, cared for the throne after you were gone.”

“But why? She has hated you for as long as I can remember. They have hated us for just as long. What difference did I make?” I asked.

“Oh sweet girl, they have never hated you. I cannot say how they felt about your brothers, nor can I deny the resentment Alicent and I have felt for one another. You, however, have been loved throughout it all. You were the light of your grandsire’s life, Alicent has adored you from the moment she laid eyes on you. Aegon and Aemond both used to beg for your hand. You, darling, take after your father.” She ran the water through my hair, rinsing all of the dirt and oils from it. I ran my right hand through it, as that was the only arm I could lift so high without crying, and it felt much cleaner than it had before.

“Which father?” I spoke, barely above a whisper, standing with her assistance.

“Both Laenor and Ser Harwin loved you dearly, as they were both loved by you. You enchanted them from the moment you made your entrance into the world, and you did so until they died. You are both of them, the best of them, in a perfect package.”

I could only nod. Jace and I knew from a very young age that Laenor was not our blood. He claimed us all the same, cared for us as much as he could. Ser Harwin, though, made every difference in our lives. Even if Luke wasn’t completely aware, our father spent every moment he could watching over us. He trained with the boys every morning, attended my lessons as much as possible, trained me in swords in the eve. He was there for Luke’s birth, was there within a few hours of Joffrey’s. And the love he held for my mother, to be willing to love her from a distance and sire children he could never claim…it was admirable.

“Jace never married,” I stated. It was not a question, but an observation. I knew far too well that if he had, he would never have put the shame on his wife that would’ve been given to her when he kissed me so publicly.

“The two of you share a special connection. He could not bring himself to agree to any marriage proposal until we knew one way or another. He said that he would only be with his other half unless there were no other options,” she spoke softly. She helped me into a new dress, a beautiful sea green color to represent House Velaryon.

“So, until my body washed ashore somewhere?” I asked, a ghost of a laugh coming through. I could see a frown slowly creeping onto her face. “Mother, I’m sorry. I can’t Imagine how difficult the last few years have been.”

“You are back now, my darling girl. That is what matters,” she told me, sitting me in the nearest chair so that she could braid my hair. “Aegon asked me to annul his marriage to Helaena. Their’s was not a happy one, I do not wish that upon any of my family.”

I was grateful for her gentle touch as she worked carefully with my hair. It wasn’t as though my mother had ever been rough with me, but there was a gentleness that she always seemed to have whenever we were sick or hurt.

The first time Jace flew on Vermax, he pulled me onto the saddle. We both returned blistered and aching. Yet once it hit midnight and my fever had fully set in, it was realized I had an Infection because I wasn’t wearing proper dragon riding clothes and my skin was rubbed off until I was bleeding. She sat by my side for nearly a week then. She prayed to nearly every god, even the ones she had no faith in, and she was so soft with me you would think she was a mere common woman instead of the future Queen.

“And Aemond?” I asked her once she pulled her hands away from my hair.

“Refuses to marry. He has wanted to marry you since the two of you attempted to run off to Dragonstone when you were children,” she chuckled. “If I did not know you, I would say that was his idea.”

“In my defense, we had been speaking about the Valyrian traditions that have been lost. He and I were going to marry in the tradition of Valyria and then Jace and I would marry under the Seven,” I told her, a smile on my face.

I was approximately five years old when that became our plan in life. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, so I would have two husbands. Of course, whenever Jace was told about this plan, he vehemently denied me. He said he would give me everything that I would ever need when he was king.

“He was hoping that Jace would find a new bride, so that when you came back he could have you,” she told me, taking my hands in hers. “Before you ask, yes. He was certain you would come back. He spent nearly a year searching all of Westeros for you on Vhagar. He only returned at the request of Helaena.”

“What do I do, mama?” I whispered. “It has been so long, so much has changed. Little Aegon and Viserys won’t even know me. Is Vhaela even alive?”

Vhaela was my dragon. She had been a wild dragon that approached King’s landing near six moons before my eighteenth nameday. She was the most gorgeous shade of amethyst, her scales glittering in the sunlight whenever I flew her. She had rested on a mountain not far out from the city and I snuck out of the castle to get a closer look. Never had I known of a dragon who was so calm and regal when being approached. It was like she was royalty and she knew exactly what the difference between us was. It was this confidence she carried that lead me to attempt to claim her, and she graciously agreed to a partnership with me.

“Vhaela is in the Dragon Pit. She enjoys flying when Aemond and Jace go, I believe she feels close enough to you through them to allow them to care for her. As for your younger brothers, we did not let them forget. They know you, not in the same way they know Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, but you are not a stranger to them,” she assured me. Her voice did not waiver in this. It was instead supported by a firmness that could only result from a confident truth.

She turned me to face her directly, hands starting to squeeze mine. The look on her face was so tender, so comforting, I wasn’t sure what to do except let a few tears leave my eyes. It all felt so overwhelming, and there was no certainty as to what I should do.

“You wished to be betrothed to Jace at a young age. Do you still wish it?” she asked me quietly. “Or does your heart desire another?”

“I love Jace with my entire being,” I told her firmly. It was everything I could do to ignore how my heart began racing.

“Save for the piece of your heart that has long been held by Aemond.”

My head dropped. There was nobody that I had ever told of my affections for Aemond. He had never exactly been subtle, that I would admit. A year before Luke’s claim to Driftmark was questioned, my Grandsire the King had requested my appearance at court. He wished to spend time with me. And during that time, Aemond and I grew as close as we were as children. Maybe even closer.

But that did not matter. Those were the adventures of a young girl. I was promised to Jace formally when my family came to King’s Landing. Any affections that I had for Aemond was left behind in that moment.

The kisses that we shared In the library or in the gardens were innocent. The nights spent in my chambers, talking until the sun comes up. We absolutely did not do anything that was considered something that could ruin me. We did not make each other come undone for hours every night.

“That was a girl’s exploits. I belong with Jace, we were brought into the world together and together we shall always be,” I said while trying to keep my voice steady as hers. Yet, when it came to the overwhelming truth of Aemond and I, I was never steady. And so I turned away from her, withdrawing my hands from her touch. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her stand.

“I only wish to see you happy, to marry for love and not for duty,” she told me, taking a flower from a vase nearby and sticking it in my hair. “Allow yourself to court both of them. There have been many changes during your time gone. When you have been made completely sure, I will not question your mind again.”

Before I could say anything in response, knock on the door echoed through the room. The Maesters were here to examine my injuries. Instinctually I turned to face mother, who silently promised me she was not leaving. With a deep and painful breath, I was able to nod and allow them inside.

#dividers by benkeibear #aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #out of time

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caroldantops · 6 months

Text

indentation in the shape of you || valcarol

ship: valkyrie x carol danvers

summary/request: carol shows valkyrie her new suit. valkyrie doesn't like it.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smut (18+ only), kinda pwp, the marvels spoilers, strap on use, jealous sex, daddy valkyrie, dom!val, sub!carol

a/n: if you're seeing this coming from a ship tag hello! i usually write reader insert so if you go to my blog looking for more of this ummm. sorry.

masterlist | ao3 link

“I’m glad that they seem to be adjusting well. Fury tells me that they’re working on restoring Tarnax’s atmosphere, so hopefully they won’t have to stay in New Asgard for too much longer,” Carol tightens her fists at her side, tension in her body clear as she stands in front of Valkyrie’s desk.

“Oh, no worries. Having them is no bother at all. Though I’m sure they’re eager to get off Earth,” Valkyrie hums as she swirls her dagger.

Carol insisted on coming down after fixing Hala’s sun to check on things, something that didn’t surprise Valkyrie in the slightest. What did surprise her was her sudden costume change. Her suit was different. Less saturated, emblem bigger on her chest. Valkyrie didn’t like it. It didn’t feel like the Captain Marvel image that she’d grown used to.

Plus, this one’s torn in places. Cheaply made. Not fitting for a hero who flies into suns.

Carol is rambling on about something to do with one of the Skrull families as Valkyrie analyzes this new suit. It does hug her hips nicely. Form fitting around the waist that she’s grabbed and pulled against her many times before.

“What’s with the new get-up?”

“What?” Carol’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt.

“This,” Valkyrie points her dagger at Carol. “Different suit.”

Carol looks down at her suit. Valkyrie holds back a chuckle at how she almost looks surprised by what she’s wearing. “Oh! I got a new one.”

“Clearly,” Valkyrie laughs. “Come closer, I wanna see it.”

Carol scrunches up her brows in confusion at Valkyrie’s sudden interest, but chalks it up to that warrior mentality. That woman loves some good battle armor. She walks around the desk to stand in front of Valkyrie, awkwardly holding still as she inspects the suit, running her hands over the material and poking a finger through one of the tears that ripped during the fight with Dar-Benn.

“Seems cheap, doesn’t it?” Valkyrie sneers. “My armory could make you something ten times as sturdy. Where’d you get this shit suit from?”

“It’s not shit,” Carol huffs. Valkyrie raises an eyebrow at her and pulls her finger down, making the rip bigger. “Hey!”

“Why aren’t you answering me, hm?” Valkyrie knows damn well where this suit came from, she could tell from the moment she touched it. She just wants Carol to say it.

“Aladna. Prince Yan--”

“Oh, a gift from your husband.”

Before Carol knows it, she’s being tugged flush against Valkyrie. From her standing position, she towers over her even more than she usually does, but she gulps because she knows who’s in control here.

Valkyrie knows that Prince Yan is no more than a friend to Carol, but both of them know just how much the idea of Carol being technically married makes Valkyrie’s jealousy blaze.

Especially when she comes around with the gifts he’s given her.

“Val--”

“You know, I’m surprised it looks so dull, given that Aladna’s traditional clothing has more colors than a pride parade.” Valkyrie grips Carol’s waist, fingers digging into her sides. It would hurt if Carol didn’t have super endurance. But it’s enough to make the message clear.

“It’s fine, I’ll probably go back to my old one anyway.” Carol refuses to make eye contact with her. She can’t let her know how much this is affecting her right now.

But gods.

It took Carol a long time to find someone who could make her feel this way. Someone who could make her feel safe rather than terrified of giving in to their control, their dominance.

It just came so naturally to Valkyrie. Carol supposes that’s why she can’t stay away, comes running back when her thoughts get too much for her to bear and she just needs them shut off.

Like now.

“Don’t look away from me,” Valkyrie says firmly. Carol bites her lip and meets her gaze again. “Good girl. Bend over the desk.”

Carol briefly considers asking why, but at the moment she can’t bring herself to fight Valkyrie’s little game. She moves some stuff out of the way and bends over the desk. She does her best to steady her breathing as she feels Valkyrie’s hands run up the back of her thighs.

“You’d think that Prince Yan would give his princess a sturdier suit. You know, I bet I could just…”

Riiiiiiiip.

“Valkyrie!”

Valkyrie laughs, giving Carol’s ass a slap as she admires what she’s done. Just as Valkyrie suspected, she was able to poke into one of the tears and fully rip a hole right through the crotch of Carol’s suit. Her cunt is exposed, the pale skin of her ass peeking through the top of the tears as well. Valkyrie steps forward, hips flush against Carol’s ass.

“Feel that, princess?” Carol groans. “Use your words.”

“Yes, sir.” Carol gasps as Valkyrie grinds the bulge of her strap into her exposed ass. She tries hiding her face to conceal how flustered she is, but Valkyrie won’t tolerate that. She’s tugged up by her hair, Valkyrie’s lips brushing against her cheek as she speaks lowly to her.

“Does your husband ever do this for you?” Valkyrie doesn’t expect a response, just chuckling at Carol’s whines. “Does he know what a needy girl you are?”

“No, sir.” Valkyrie unbuckles her belt, pulling out her strap and nudging the tip between Carol’s already damp folds. Carol shudders, pushing her hips back against the sensation.

“Greedy, greedy thing. Already trying to fuck yourself on my cock.” Valkyrie stands up straighter, but doesn’t release her grip on Carol’s hair, knowing the stinging in her scalp makes Carol as compliant as can be. “You’re getting spoiled, princess. Gonna have to ask nicely for what you want.”

“Please,” Carol asks softly, voice pitched high as Valkyrie rubs her clit with her strap. “Please, sir. Please fuck me.”

“Hmm,” Valkyrie releases Carol’s hair and runs her hand down her back, feeling the strong muscles of her back quiver under her touch. “Dunno, that’s not very convincing if you ask me.”

“Please, daddy, I need you to fuck me!”

Valkyrie laughs and sinks her cock into Carol’s weeping pussy. Carol lets out a guttural moan, only overshadowed by the wet noises her cunt makes as Valkyrie pounds deep into her. She grips Carol’s hips, pulling her back against her to meet her rough thrusts.

She loves having Carol like this. The all-powerful Captain Marvel, destroyer of armies and savior of the universe begging for her tight pussy to be ruined by her, shivering under her praise and degradation, weeping in her arms after she’s been thoroughly fucked.

Carol must have been particularly pent up today, because it doesn’t take much longer for her to be on the edge, a few strokes of Valkyrie’s fingers over her clit and some whispered praises of “Good princess, let go for me. I’ve got you” send her into a shaking mess as she comes.

She mumbles something incoherent as Valkyrie flips her over, pulling her up to curl against her chest. “What was that, baby? Can’t hear you when you’re mumbling.”

“Thank you,” Carol sighs.

Valkyrie smiles softly, kissing Carol on the tip of her nose and rubbing her back. “You that tired after one round?”

“Not tired, just…tired.”

“Ah, yeah. That really cleared things up.”

“Shut up.”

#valcarol #valkyrie x carol danvers #s: valcarol #fic #silver writes #i wrote this mainly just to get it out of me idk its been so long since ive written not reader insert #so i am a bit rusty #the marvels spoilers #IM SO SORRY I KEEP FORGETTING TO TAG

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stardust-kenobi · 1 year

Text

Blizzard

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Crosshair get stuck in a relentless snowstorm. A cave provides you shelter, but you’ll have to get close to survive.

Warnings: smut, LITERAL cock warming, (kinda) sub soft crosshair, fluffy

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Y’all seen twilight eclipse? Yeah it’s like that…and Jacob’s lil comment about how he could warm her quicker if they took their clothes off. Also the logic may be nonsensical, so, forgive me.

Request for @crosshairs-wife 💕

Gif cred: @azertyrobaz

The piercing sting of cold upon your skin was almost fading away as you grew numb. Crosshair was only feet in front of you, but you were losing sight of him in the relentless blizzard. You’d gotten separated from the other guys, but they’d already signaled you on your comms that they had made it back safely.

“We can’t come for you yet. It’s too dangerous. Try and find shelter until the storm passes” Hunter’s voice cut through the weak comms signal in your ear. He was so worried, but knew you both were capable of survival.

It was an unpredictable planet with weather patterns unlike any other system. You hadn’t planned for a winter storm, so you weren’t dressed for the freezing temperatures, only making the situation more dire.

“T-there’s…a cave” Crosshair breathed heavily, shivering through his words. You couldn’t muster a response, and he could only assume you were following behind him. The cave was deep inside the base of the mountain, perfect for shielding you both from the brutal winds and freezing temperatures. It was only just barely visible to either of you, and you were thankful he saw it.

Throwing down your backpack, you both collapsed onto the dry ground of the covered fortress. There wasn’t much room, but you found yourselves huddled in opposite corners, still hanging onto your social norm of not touching one another, even in a state of uncertainty.

“We s-should get c-c-closer” You mumbled, but not without struggle. You had never bonded with Crosshair beyond being in the same squad, and you really didn’t think he even liked you. But that didn’t matter right now.

He nodded, as the desperation for warmth drew him into you, curling up against each other's bodies. His arm stretched over your body as if he tried to shield you from the conditions. It was uncharacteristic of him, but human instinct overcame you both, knowing it was crucial for survival.

“You’re freezing” You mumble with your shaking voice. He was arguably worse off than you were, but he wouldn't show it. Crosshair had been out in the cold a little longer than you.

“So are you” He rebutted. Sure, but you needed to make sure he found warmth soon.

“You need to take your armor off, it’ll only make you colder” You told him, knowing the metal would only trap the coldness against his body, and your body couldn’t feel the warmth of his own with the hard metal creating a barrier between your clothes and his.

Crosshair moved slowly to pull the armor from his body, and you watched as the shape of his form come to view.

“Your clothes are soaked from the snow, you-” He began, realizing that soon the moisture would freeze, trapping your body within it, “you’ll die”.

“I don’t have anything else to wear, Crosshair” You groaned in response, realizing your only other option was to strip down to nothing and cuddle up against him.

“I know that” He scoffed through the grit of his chattering teeth.

“Gods, you’re right. Just, try not to stare, please” You begged; feeling self-conscious already, but there was no time for that now.

He noticeably swallowed hard, anticipating the view that was to come. He’d never admit to you that you turned him on, but really, you drove him wild. It was always a skill of his to not show a single bit of that emotion when he was near you, but it was something he had to train himself to do, or else he’d blow his cover.

“I need help” You shamefully requested, the numbness of your fingers lacking the grip to pull your jacket and shirt from your body.

He hesitated, whether that was because he was nervous or because he was trying to process the words coming out of your mouth, it didn’t go unnoticed. His hands gently grab the bottom hem of your shirt and helped you maneuver out of it. Your bare breasts were exposed then to the frigid chill but somehow felt warmer now that you were out of the dampness of your material.

Through all the discomfort of the storm and the hell you'd been through, you still felt a tingle of tension between the two of you as you laid back to remove your pants. It was such a strange sensation to be warmer in your bare form, but this would help you from freezing to death.

Crosshair couldn’t take his eyes off of you, despite your plea to not be stared at. You had to admit you sort of liked it, though. The attention helped you feel less self-conscious, because surely he wouldn’t stare if he didn’t like the view, right?

You remembered something about survival that was going to be hard to suggest, but someone had to, “Skin to skin is the fastest way to warm each other” You shivered, “Please, Crosshair. I’m sorry to ask I j-” You begged helplessly.

“I’ll do it” He interrupted you. Crosshair wasn’t angry, he was eager. This shocked you, but you welcomed his eager attitude.

Quickly, he removed his clothing, keeping only his underwear, same as you. You were enamored with him, loving every inch of his body, and not attempting to hide your staring at all.

“Come here” He demanded, laying down next to you and wrapping his arm around your shaking body. The immediate encasing of his shielding body on you felt as close to a warm blanket as you could get right now.

“Oh maker…I don’t know how you feel warm but it’s helping”

“You feel warm too” He noted.

Your eyes met his as you looked up to him and something so unfamiliar came over you, an urge that made itself known so suddenly, but you leaned up, pressing your barely tingling lips against his.

He pulled away.

Oh no.

“What are you doing?” He snapped.

“I-” You choked on your own words, mortified and confused.

His eyes scanned your face and wandered your expression to try and read you. Crosshair wasn’t rejecting you, but he was rejecting the idea that you wanted him. It was simply too hard for him to believe. Things were always distant and tense between you two, but right now, stars...right now he wanted to fall apart for you.

Finally, after what felt like forever of nothing but the roaring of storms, he kissed you back. The passion that you felt through the motions of his lips sent a flash of heat through your veins, something you so desperately needed. As if by natural instinct, you reached to palm the growing bulge between his legs.

“I know how else we can get warm” You whispered against his lips.

He held your gaze, unbroken, and let his fingers float down between your legs, feeling the arousal pooled inside your panties. With only small rhythms of motions pressed to your clit, you whimpered. Crosshair couldn’t wait any longer, though, as his body begged for warmth. Something so primal in him did this because he knew he needed it to live, but something more intimate in him told him he just needed you.

Swiftly, you pulled his cock from his undergarments, and swung your leg over his hip, straddling him. His needing eyes scanned your face, looking for any uncertainty, but found none. He recognized that you were doing him an act of such deep kindness, but was so eager he pulled you fiercely into place. You knew he’d probably benefit from this more than you in terms of survival, but stars, you know you’d enjoy every second of him fucking you anyways.

No words could’ve described how euphoric he felt sinking into the warmth you provided him. It was more intense of a high than any spice the galaxy could offer. He groaned so loudly, equally satisfied with the feeling of any part of his body being wrapped in warm velvet, subsiding the numbness, and finally having you like this.

You winced, feeling the contrast of cold inside of you as you fully lowered yourself onto his cock. Trembling forceful fingers dug into your hips pressing you in place and refusing to let you move.

“Please, just, stay like this. For a moment” He begged, a desperate look replacing his usual scowled expression. He shuddered, eyes falling closed as he savored every second that passed.

You did as he asked, and wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled his face into the crevice of your breasts. He groaned again, and a breathless whimper fell from your own lips as the fullness you felt overwhelmed you. It felt so good to do this with him, and it felt better to know how much relief you brought to him.

Even though he could’ve stayed buried inside you like this forever, you needed to move, needed to have that movement. Slowly, you sat up again, and curled your hips up and down, adding friction against your walls.

“Oh, Y/N” Crosshair whimpered so softly. This was a side of him you’d never expected to see, especially in this intimate situation. But then again, he never let you get close enough to him to even know. His desperation for relief transformed him, and it melted you.

“It feels so good, Crosshair” You praised, losing yourself as you fucked him faster. He seemed to be losing him as well, struggling to hold back any expression of his pleasure.

“So good for me, helping me like this” He breathed, looking up at you while you bounce your ass up and down on him. The motion was warming your body, working up your blood flow. The relief of warmth began flowing through the deepest part of your being, extending out to your skin, until all you cared about was being here with him at this moment.

“Stop" He mumbled suddenly, and you did just that.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, please, just stay still again" He begged. You sat deep into his lap, covering his entire length, "I want to feel you just like this. I want to see you"

Your ears couldn't believe what they were hearing. Never would you have guessed that he was so soft when he needed to be. His hands traced the shape of your body, traveling down the side of your waist. Then his grip moved to your breasts, taking one into his palm as he massaged your nipple. You threw your head back as the sensation sent a strange chill down your spine.

"Crosshair, Y/N, come in" The comms hummed in your ear, startling you out of the trance he had you in. It was Tech's voice, "Are you two alright"

"Better than alright" You responded, keeping your eyes on him beneath you. Crosshair smirked at you.

"I doubt that, considering you're trapped in a blizzard, but alright then" Tech responded, but accepted your response as a sign that you were alive, at least.

Without warning, and fueled by the strength you'd provided for him, Crosshair picked you up and laid you down. As he hovered above you, his cock still resting inside your cunt, he held the back of your head as he rested in on the rock floor of the cave.

He thrusted slow at first but picked up his momentum with a few motions.

"I'm going to come soon, but I want you to come on my cock first, darling" He asked, bringing his fingers to rub your clit again as he continued to fuck you.

"Fuck, right there" You cried, feeling your climax creep up so suddenly.

"Yeah?" He asked, knowing you were so close as you clenched around him, "Let go, it'll feel so good, Y/N"

Just then it burst open like an ignited flame, the fire spreading throughout your entire body. You cried out his name as your orgasm took over your movements and thoughts, helping your body reach an ultimate high. You'd never been fucked like this while coming at the same time, and it was almost too much for you to handle.

As you felt yourself come down from your high, he faltered in his movements, curses flying softly through his thrusts. The warm spill of his cum coated the inside of your walls, and he held himself there for a few more moments, taking every second that he could before he finally had to remove himself.

It was then that the blizzard began to break apart and subside, the outside of the cave becoming more visible. You situated yourself propped against the wall of the cave, and Crosshair did the same, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, huddling together through the very end of the storm that put you here.

"We're going to have to help each other back into these clothes when the boys pick us up" You broke the silence that you both savored after your releases, "that might be a hard one to explain"

"Only I should see you like this" He snapped, sudden jealousy taking over his tone as he imagined any of the others enjoying this sight of you like he has. That was the Crosshair you expected.

You smirked, omitting a response as you leaned into his body, trying to enjoy every last second you had with him before things likely went back to normal.

You hoped that they wouldn't.

——

A/N: feedback and comments are always so encouraging and appreciated. If you enjoyed this, please let me know❤️

#crosshair #crosshair tbb #the bad batch #tbb #crosshair x reader #crosshair x fem!reader #f!reader #smut #fluff #requested #stardust-kenobi #crosshair x you #crosshair x y/n #Star Wars smut #clone wars #clone force 99 #crosshair x you smut #my work

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argisthebulwark · 9 months

Text

Severed Ties Part Two: Why You Came Back

summary: Time heals all wounds and somehow, you will find your way back to each other. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. Part One: Why You Left feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Erandur, Teldryn, Vilkas, Farkas, Rune, Arnbjorn warnings: none, bit longer than usual.

Between all your duties and missing Brynjolf, it took time to find a comfortable rhythm. There was no escaping each other even after you put an end to your romantic involvement, only breaks coming in the form of jobs halfway across Skyrim. Through everything you worked together to get the Guild back on its feet. You entrusted Brynjolf solely with its care when Nocturnal came calling, reminding you that the Skeleton Key’s rightful place was in her temple. The Twilight Sepulcher drained your body and soul. Exhaustion sapped at your strength when you shuffled out, unsure how you were going to get back to the inn. Riften was another beast entirely. Chilly fingers shook at the prospect of your bed being so far away, ready to risk it all for a short nap in the forest. Brynjolf was planted a few paces away, hood thrown back and worry in his eyes. Your heart stopped at the sight. You’d never seen him so far from Riften. He took one cautious step as if you were a wounded animal, like you'd bolt if he came too close. Collapsing into his arms felt like home. Strong arms carried you when your muscles failed, tears springing into your eyes when he tucked you safely into his chest. You gulped back the words you hadn’t said in ages when he buried his nose in his hair, turning to carry you home. He'd left all duties behind to be there for you when you needed him most. “I promise, love. Nothing’s gettin’ in the way of you and I again. Sorry it took me so long.”

Tales of Miraak’s reign of terror over Solstheim slowed, the island calming and hesitantly returning to its normal life. It had been years since you’d left Apocrypha and you could only hope that he’d found the answers he’d wanted so badly or at least some form of peace. The last memory of him still pained you but you’d never forget it - robes wrinkled where he crouched over the ancient desk, eyes wild and fingers stained with dark ink. Being back on Nirn was a blessing and a curse. You had settled quite easily into your life but there was a constant nagging need to hear every rumor about him, to keep up to date on what he was doing. Your home was comfortable but quiet, interrupted by a harsh knock on your door. Seeing him again stopped your heart. His eyes were wide, blessedly free from the mania you’d come to know. The mask and gloves were gone, robes traded for simple armor. There he stood, the man who had forgotten you suddenly standing on your doorstep, that lovely voice saying words you’d craved to hear. “I gave it all up. I gave up everything to stand here and ask you for another chance and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, My Dragon.”

You didn’t recognize him in such normal, simple clothes. Erandur, who lived in robes befitting a priest and Mara’s regalia, took the empty seat across from you in the tavern. His fingers quivered when he offered you a hand, hope bright in his eyes when he introduced himself. “I had to come over here, I couldn’t stop staring. You’re stunning.” His attempt to sound nonchalant sent a nervous giggle bubbling out of you. “Can we put the past behind us and start over?” “Start over?” You didn’t release his hand and he didn't pull away, heart swelling when you saw his smile. All else was forgotten when you felt Erandur’s tattooed fingers climbing up your wrist. “I am just a man who very badly wants to kiss someone he saw across the crowded tavern. Nothing more.”

A compromise. That’s what he’d proposed. Teldryn sat at your table, eyes sparkling when he took in the house you’d built. It was far from the bustling cities, trees insulating you from the noise of nearby farms. After parting from Teldryn it had become a safe haven from the rest of the world. You’d never admit that building it with your own hands was fueled mostly by spite. He’d come with apologies and offers mingled together in a practiced speech. Some time at home, some on the road, all of it spent together. It was unsettling how easily you trusted him again after all the time spent apart. His helmet rested on the table when Teldryn met your eyes and for the first time he looked unsure of what to say. His mouth opened, closing again and you caught a glimpse of that annoyed furrow between his brows you’d missed. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to settle down in one place, but I could get used to this slow life with you. For a while.”

Loving Vilkas was easy, you’d never truly stopped. Learning to be gentle with one another was difficult. You struggled to learn how to look past your relationship and see Vilkas as more than your partner, acknowledging his role in the Companions. He worked on seeing you as more than his Harbinger, viewing you as his partner once again. It was a slow process - taking breaks and setting boundaries, but he was worth it. During the day you worked, creating healthier avenues for conversation. At night you were partners, nothing more. No work talk was allowed between dinner and breakfast. In those evenings you found one another again, softening and loving each other as you had so long ago. “Remind me, Harbinger. Am I permitted to kiss you during working hours? Are we allowed to sit this close, or are you worried I’ll distract you?”

Breezehome had been yours before Farkas entered your life. It was your refuge during the evenings when you couldn’t bear Jorrvaskr’s halls or the memories they held. A cool breeze whipped through your hair when you walked home, masking his footsteps until he appeared at your side. Neither one of you said a word when he took your hand, falling in step with you and allowing you to guide him to your doorstep. It didn’t happen all at once. Rather, it was small changes that slowly altered your life. It took work for Farkas to summon the confidence to live for himself, extracting his sense of self worth from the Companions. You reminded him that it was a balance, leaving wasn’t permanent. Dinners were often spent in Jorrvaskr before retreating to the peace of your home. “I didn’t think I was anything more than a fighter. Didn’t think anyone would want me to be more.”

Each day felt like a new opportunity for growth. You watched Rune from a distance hoping that he would make peace with his past. You didn’t want him to give up but it was too painful to love someone who lived entirely in the mysteries of what could have been, as if you were only allowed to love part of him. Luckily, Delvin and Vex had an endless catalogue of tasks that no one else wanted to complete. Jobs in other holds, jewelry to be stolen in Whiterun and planted on some poor sap in Solitude, the occasional trip to confer with the Dark Brotherhood. All the travel was good for your mind, allowing you time to think through everything far from him. Falling into your cot you stared up at the Cistern’s ceiling. Watery light from the early morning sun reminded you that you’d stayed up all night again. It had been difficult to sleep with Rune cramped into your tiny bed but without him the space felt too empty. His footsteps were silent when he knelt beside your bed, his warm hand on your shoulder the only warning that he was there. “I’ll never give up, not entirely. But it isn’t worth losing you over. Just give me some time, please don’t forget about me.”

Arnbjorn consumed your every thought. Despite your best efforts to appear cool and indifferent you couldn’t take another moment. It was fairly easy to avoid him during the day, but every evening you struggled to not look at him through dinner. After all the others had left in search of bed or prepping for their assignment you found yourself alone with him, a few drinks deep and blood heating under the weight of his gaze. Too drunk to be embarrassed by the stumbling way you explained how badly you wanted to be loved by him again, how deeply you wanted him to love you. You didn’t want to be a replacement for the love he’d lost. Cheeks burning and tears spilling you gasped out the least graceful declaration of love and how much you missed him. Your name on his lips had never sounded better. Soothing kisses and careful hands sufficed when words failed. You knew he wasn’t comfortable vocalizing softer emotions. Arnbjorn’s lips were on your forehead, fists balled into his armor when you dragged him closer. “Just need you to trust me, okay? It’s only you. My past is my past, no changin’ it. I just need some time but I promise it’s only you.”

#skyrim #skyrim fanfic #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #brynjolf #miraak #erandur #teldryn sero #vilkas #farkas #rune skyrim #arnbjorn

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haledamage · 5 months

Note

One of the kiss in the rain prompts, your choice, with Nadia/Kurt :3

a hopeful kiss in the rain a playful, happy kiss in the rain

I couldn’t pick which one I liked best, so I decided to use a couple of them! they deserve it :3 special guest appearances by Síora and Sieglinde and their exasperated support of their best friends. I’m very proud of them for not locking anyone in any closets to get them to finally admit their feelings (it was a close call)

Nadia/Kurt and how I think their romance confession actually went. Because I know my girl and there’s no way she waited until That One Romance Scene to smooch her man for the first time. ~3200 words, takes place right after Kurt's third companion quest, so spoilers for that and the conversations after it

---

Kurt kept a keen eye on Nadia as she weaved through the crowd of the Coin Tavern in San Matheus. Though tonight’s lot was perhaps more trustworthy than most, and filled with far more folks than usual who would jump to her rescue in a moment’s notice, it was still his duty to keep her safe, and that’s what he intended to do. He knew better than to let his guard down, even among friends. Especially among friends, if the last month was any indication.

And if, perhaps, he watched her with more than just her safety in mind, eyes lingering on the curve of her lips as she smiled or on the elegant movements of her hands as she spoke, well. Certainly no one in this crowd would fault him for it.

“So that’s her, then,” Sieglinde stated, drawing his attention temporarily away from Nadia to where she sat next to him. The two of them had wedged themselves in a shadowed corner with their backs to the wall, where they could see the entire tavern. Old habits. “The girl you were always talking about, your protege at the palace. Pity it took something like this for me to finally meet her.”

“Aye, that’s her.” Kurt sighed and reached for his mug, though he didn’t raise it to take a drink. “Seems like dangerous business being my ‘protege’ these days.”

“Looks to me like she’s weathered it just fine,” she teased. “Don’t think she minds a bit of danger.”

That just made his frown deepen. “Just because she can face it doesn’t mean she should have to.” Into his drink, he muttered, “Especially not on my account.”

“Come now, Kurt. She’s older than you were when you met her,” Sieglinde pointed out. There was a softness to her voice that told him she wanted to say more about everything he’d endured by the time he was Nadia’s age, but thankfully she let the words linger without voicing them. “Wiser too, I’d wager, and much more charming.”

He gave Sieglinde a sharp look, though he didn’t deny it. It only earned him a playful smile in return. “More patient, too,” he eventually added. He couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice, and unconsciously his gaze drifted back across the room to Nadia.

She was leaning over a table full of Nauts and former Ghost Company recruits, her eyes shining and face bright with laughter. Her tablemates stared up at her with nearly identical dazed, starry-eyed expressions. They weren’t the first to be enchanted by the force of nature that was Nadia de Sardet, and wouldn’t be the last.

“She would have to be.” Sieglinde watched Kurt watch Nadia, and saw those same stars in his eyes. “Does she know?”

“Know what?” The answer was almost automatic, the reflexive habit to hide his desires, to push aside his own feelings so they wouldn’t get in anyone else’s way. A habit Síora had been trying to break him of for months now, and Nadia had been trying to find a way to counter for far longer than that.

Sieglinde smacked him on the arm, hard enough to feel it even through the padding of his armor. “Don’t play dumb, Kurt. You can fool your nobles, but you can’t fool me. I know you too well.”

He sighed, pulled off his hat so he could drag a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter,” he said eventually, quiet enough that he could barely be heard over the din of the tavern crowd. “She deserves better than some bitter old mercenary like me.”

“Perhaps she does.” He appreciated that she didn’t try to offer any platitudes or pretend he was anything other than what he was. She had never been one to dance around the truth. “But even a blind man could see the way you look at her. And the way she looks at you.”

As if she could sense that they were talking about her, Nadia glanced in their direction, her eyes locking on Kurt’s with deadly precision.

She smiled at him like they were the only people in the room, sweet and warm and much too intimate for this place. It made him want to whisk her away from here and take her somewhere he could keep that smile all to himself.

It took longer than he liked to push that feeling away.

“Seems to me ‘bitter old mercenary’ is exactly what she wants,” Sieglinde murmured, going in for the kill while his guard was down.

Then someone came by and forced Nadia’s attention back to her table, and the moment was lost.

When she finally looked away, Kurt let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “It doesn’t matter,” he said again.

Sieglinde chuckled to herself, the sound somehow both fond and derisive. “You’re a stubborn fool, Kurt.”

There was no bite in her words, but it still made Kurt feel strangely defensive, and he rounded on her like he expected her to draw her sword on him. “What would you have me do, then?” he snapped, both louder and sharper than he intended. “Court her? Ask her to risk everything for me? Or should I beg her uncle for permission to--”

“You think that girl cares one bit what her uncle thinks about anything she does?” Sieglinde hissed. “The only man whose opinion has ever mattered to her is you. Stop pretending you can’t see that.”

Kurt scoffed darkly and reached for his drink rather than bothering to reply. Doing so would mean admitting that she was right, and he refused to give her the satisfaction.

In the lull in conversation, his attention wandered once again, compulsively, inevitably, back to Nadia.

It wasn’t that he was afraid that she didn’t feel the same for him as he did for her. If anything, he was afraid that she did.

He had known for a long time that she was attracted to him. She had been since she was a child, and had never been shy or subtle about it. The compliments, the cheek kisses, the fond yet teasing way she always said his name--those weren't new developments.

But they had changed since coming to Teer Fradee. Everything had. Or maybe it hadn’t; maybe the only thing that had changed was him. Maybe all the island had done was help him realize that Nadia was no longer a little girl with a crush, but a grown woman who knew exactly what kind of man he was and still smiled at him like he was the sunrise.

“Tell her how you feel, Kurt.” He had almost forgotten Sieglinde was still there, but thankfully managed not to startle when her voice interrupted his long-overdue epiphany. “If not tonight, then soon. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t.”

“I know.” The words hurt to say, and his voice came out rough and raspy even by his usual standards.

She was kind enough to ignore it beyond a companionable pat on his shoulder. “Leave your doubts in the ashes with Hermann where they belong, and stop letting ghosts hold you back.”

The shoulder pat became a firm grip as she used him to leverage herself out of her seat. “I’ll get the next round. I hope you’re not here when I get back.”

Kurt lifted what remained of his ale as Sieglinde melted into the crowd, draining the mug in one swig. He slammed it to the table, then forced himself to his feet and went to find Nadia before he could talk himself out of it.

---

Nadia could feel the weight of Kurt’s eyes on her all afternoon as she drifted through the tavern talking to friends both new and old. It took constant effort to keep herself from seeking him out over the crowd, and even then she had only succeeded half the time. She had resorted to finding a chair facing the opposite direction, to remove the temptation entirely.

Síora had yet to decide if she found the whole situation amusing or exasperating. At the moment, she leaned more towards the latter. “Will you catch fire if you look at him, carants?” she asked dryly. “Is that why you act this way?”

Nadia forced herself to stop looking over her shoulder, giving her friend a sheepish grin. “Am I that obvious?”

“You are as subtle as a charging andríg. And yet he still pretends he does not see it.” Síora rolled her eyes, but her expression softened quickly into a playful smile. “You are more patient than I am, Nadi. I would have tired of his hesitating long ago.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She had to resist the urge to defend Kurt, to point out all the perfectly valid reasons he had for holding back. Instead, she leaned forward conspiratorially, resting her elbows on the table between them. “What would you have me do, then? Flavia suggests I should just show up naked at his door one day.”

“Knowing Kurt, he would simply offer to loan you a shirt.” Síora laughed, and Nadia joined her. They both knew he wasn’t dense enough to actually misread a situation like that, but Kurt had a habit of being intentionally obtuse where Nadia was concerned.

Síora leaned back in her chair, balancing precariously on its back legs, giving her friend a shrewd look. “You should tell him the truth. As plainly as possible, so he cannot hide from it. Whatever happens next is his choice.”

“Maybe,” Nadia responded vaguely. She gave in to the urge to glance in the direction of Kurt’s table, only to find it empty.

Síora’s chair returned to solid ground with a loud clack of wood on wood. “What are you waiting for? A sign from the spirits? Arrows drawn in the sand, encouragement written in the clouds?”

“That would be nice. Is that really so much to ask?”

Síora’s attention shifted to something in the crowd behind Nadia. “It would appear not.”

Before she could ask for clarification on that cryptic statement, a hand landed gently on Nadia’s shoulder. She had a feeling she knew who it belonged to even before she looked up into familiar gray eyes.

“Could I trouble you for a moment?” Kurt asked as soon as he had her attention, the question leaving him in a rush. “There’s… something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Of course.” Nadia caught Siora’s eye as she stood from her seat; the other woman looked positively smug. She valiantly ignored it, smiling at Kurt instead. “I think we could both use a little fresh air. Why don’t we take a walk?”

---

Outside, it was cool and quiet, the bustling city feeling almost serene after the hectic tavern. The day was verging on dusk, oranges and reds starting to paint the edges of the heavy clouds that hung overhead. A light rain fell, just enough to make its presence known, but there was much more to come, if those clouds were any indication.

Kurt jumped when Nadia took his arm. Not dramatically, barely more than a twitch really, but enough for her to notice. She gave his bicep what she hoped was a comforting squeeze as he led her away from the tavern.

They strolled at a leisurely pace, in no hurry to get anywhere and with no destination in mind. Kurt watched the road, as if the cobblestones under their boots held a particular fascination for him; Nadia watched him from the corner of her eye, trying to judge his mood from what she could see of his profile.

“Is something the matter?” she asked, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to speak first. “You seem… distracted.”

He laughed quietly, but there was no humor in it. “I suppose you could say that.” He finally lifted his gaze from the ground to meet her eyes, but only for a moment before his attention returned to the street. “It’s nothing you need to worry yourself over, Green Blood. Recent events have just dredged up a lot of history. History that was better off staying buried.”

Nadia no longer bothered to hide the way she watched him. “I’m not going to force you to talk about it, but if you want to, I’ll listen.” She slid her hand down his arm to lace their fingers together instead. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

She was surprised when Kurt started speaking, but her surprise quickly gave away to anger when she heard what he was saying. In a measured voice that did little to cover how painful the subject was for him, he told her about his life before they met. About Hermann and his ‘elite training’. About the conditioning, the torture, the abuse. About even worse atrocities that made the words catch in his throat, refusing to be given voice.

Some of it she already suspected; the rest answered a lot of questions that still lingered from the years Kurt had been her master of arms. The careful, respectful distance he kept her at when she was a child, never touching her in any way unless necessary and asking permission first when he had no other choice; the way he never raised his voice, no matter what trouble she and Constantin caused; the care he took not to injure them during training; the routine check-ins about her well-being, and that her teachers and peers weren't mistreating her; all of it suddenly, horrifically, made sense.

It turned out that burning at the stake was too kind of a fate for Hermann after all. Nadia wished she could go back in time to do it differently. She'd have dragged the bastard all the way to Tír Fradí’s volcano and personally fed him directly to en on míl frichtimen.

“Kurt…” she started, but words failed her. ‘I’m sorry’ felt trite, ‘thank you for telling me’ too unsympathetic.

He smiled at her like he heard everything she didn’t say. “You don’t need to worry about me, Green Blood,” he told her again. “It was a long time ago. He went up in flames, and my memories with him.”

That wasn’t true, and they both knew it, but Nadia let Kurt keep his lie.

Before he could change the subject entirely, though, she closed the gap between them so she could wrap her arms around him, hugging him as tight as she was able. She half expected him to pull away, but he returned the hug without hesitation.

“I know how hard it was to talk about this,” she murmured, her voice muffled slightly by his thickly padded armor. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”

“It means a lot that you’ve been with me through all of this, Nadia. I won’t forget it.” There was more emotion in his voice in those two sentences than there had been while telling her about everything he’d endured.

She shook her head, nuzzling her face deeper into his shoulder in the process. “Kurt, I care about you. I never would have made you face this alone.”

Kurt went suddenly and completely still, and it took longer than Nadia would’ve liked for it to dawn on her why.

“Would you…” he cleared his throat before continuing with less of a tremor in his voice, “can you repeat that for me?”

Oh saints and spirits, this wasn’t how she wanted to do this, but there was no way she would take it back, not ever. If her time on Tír Fradí had taught her anything, it was that one had to take their moments when they come.

She released him and leaned back enough so she could see his face. He watched her with a mix of trepidation and hope. “Kurt. My dearest Kurt…” she touched his face, tracing her fingertips over the arch of his cheek, the sharp edge of his jaw, the scar on his chin, “I care about you. So much.”

She wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised when he kissed her.

It was just a brush of lips, barely more than mingling breath, and over almost as soon as it began. Nadia barely had enough time to feel disappointed about the brevity of it before Kurt kissed her a second time, soft but no longer hesitant, sweet and warm as a summer morning.

His breath left him in a quick, astonished laugh when they eventually parted. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he confessed, barely above a whisper, studying her face like he’d never seen her before. “Forgive me my foolishness for making you wait.”

The rain started to fall around them in earnest, cold and dismal, but Nadia paid it no mind. Nothing short of divine intervention could have pulled her away from him. ��You are worth waiting for, Kurt.”

Kurt lit up with a smile she’d never seen from him before, genuine and joyful. “As gracious as she is beautiful…” he cradled her face between both hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks, “what have I done to deserve such a gift?”

“I can make you a list, if you’d like. Would you prefer it chronologically or alphabetically?”

His laughter was the loveliest thing she’d ever heard. She couldn’t resist kissing him again, to see if it tasted as sweet as it sounded.

They were well and truly soaked by the time they parted again, and Kurt, ever the responsible one, frowned at the icy water that dripped from the brim of Nadia’s hat. The chill had started to seep into her bones, and it was only due to Kurt’s warmth and her own sheer force of will that she wasn’t shivering yet.

“We should get out of the rain. Wouldn’t want you catching cold.”

An innocuous statement; an obvious one, even. But one that raised an interesting question: “Back to the tavern? Or the house?”

If they went back to the tavern, they could rejoin their friends and pretend nothing had changed. It would be the more proper thing to do, to return to their chaperones and allow their courtship to follow a conventional pace. Going home meant having the rest of the night to themselves… to whatever end they chose.

“I think I’ve had my fill of crowds for the day. I want you to myself a little longer.” There was a promise in his voice that made her breath catch, followed by a surprising bashfulness as he dropped his gaze, the growing puddles on the ground around them suddenly fascinating. “If that is what you want, of course… I don’t mean to presume…”

“Yes,” she said quickly, before Kurt could find a way to talk himself out of this. “I want that too.”

He relaxed, tension draining from his shoulders, replaced with a tentative, but hopeful, version of the smile from before. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”

The storm picked up even more, stalling any further conversation. Nadia grabbed his hand as she took off down the street, practically running down the rapidly emptying alleys for the short distance to their home.

She pulled him back into her arms as soon as they crossed the threshold, her lips finding his again even before the door was latched. There was no telling how long it would be before they next had to brave the storm; she wanted to make the most of whatever time they had now.

#rhi writes #nadia/kurt #nadia de sardet #kurt greedfall #greedfall #sieglinde was so much fun to write she has such a dynamic and interesting voice #her and siora 100% have had brunch together to commiserate about their besties #(fun little detail that’s purely just there for me: using the colonial spelling of teer fradee for kurt and the native spelling tír fradí f #love the dichotomy of kurt being so romantic and well-spoken but also a shy tongue-tied dummy

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fio-renze · 9 months

Text

August 22 - Day 3 Possibility

“Mother?”

Fiorenze turned sharply, her eyes wide and ears pinned back. That hadn’t been what she expected to hear from around the thick bramble of bushes she’d been foraging for saxifrage in.

She didn’t recognize the girl, armored in spellweave with leaves clinging to her loose brunette braid and dirt smudged on her cheek. But maybe she did — the soft swell of her cheeks, porcelain skin and bright eyes were the same as what she saw in the mirror every day.

Her mouth went dry.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

Fiorenze wasn’t sure what to do but stare and listen to her heart thunder in her ears.

The girl — woman, she was a woman grown — ran up and hugged her, making the hazy edges that her shards of reality had taken on as soon as she’d spoken come crashing together, “I saw Aunt Pyra out here days ago and hid because— well— I was right. You’re here.”

It took a moment, but Fiorenze hugged the unnamed daughter back. Acrid ozone, the same scent that lingered all around Eon’s Fringe, clung to her. “Am I not in your timeline?” She knew the answer already; there was too much joy, too much hope, in the younger woman’s tone.

“Am I not in yours?” Her time-lost child pulled back and looked at her, blue eyes bright and brimming with soft tears. She had a spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks — like Pyraelia did. This close, Fiorenze could see Halandir’s influence, too. Less than her own family’s, but still there.

Fio shook her head and reached up to rub at a smudge of dirt on the girl’s cheek away, “I have no children here. What’s your name?”

“Sylmae! And there’s Finn, too, but he’s not here. He doesn’t like to fight, which Father prefers. I think he’s his favorite, I look too much like you— it doesn’t matter, I found you,” she hugged Fio again, tightly.

The knife twisted as Fiorenze smiled; Sylmae had been her mother-in-law’s name. She’d had the children Halandir had always wanted — did he love her there, until she died? Did he love her still? “He’s not remarried has he? Your father, I mean.”

“No, never,” Sylmae’s voice was muffled from where she’d pressed her face into the crook of Fio’s neck, “He tried but apparently all the courting was exhausting and—”

How interesting.

Fiorenze carefully, kindly, put some distance between herself and Sylmae, keeping the fae child at arms distance. It was hard not to smile fondly, and it was harder not to want to keep her. But what if she could go there?

“If I find the right portal, can—” Sylmae looked up at her, hopeful, before she broke off into a bright, disappointed laugh, “That’s… It doesn’t work like that, does it? I’m being ridiculous.”

What did she have here, really? Pyraelia and Keranna, but they’d both be fine without her. They’d understand. Xylaes… they hadn’t talked in over a month, and every time she’d wanted to recently it felt like she’d be intruding. He had his son, the mercenary group, and she’d never measure up to Callia. Arandori and Tinnaire had other friends. They’d all be fine without her, wouldn’t they?

Her brow furrowed a bit before she shook her head and smiled, “Walk with me? I… maybe it does. My sister has a friend here from another timeline — they’re trying to find a way to keep her here forever. Maybe I can offer a trade? Or… I don’t know. I’m not going to promise you anything.”

“I get it. It’s nice to think about the possibility though. What if I stayed here? Like Aunt Pyra’s friend? I’m not— well— home isn’t—” Sylmae sighed, obviously a little flustered. Overwhelmed, like Pyraelia got sometimes.

“Maybe. We can ask. That’s the least we can do. The Bronzes are—”

“Pretentious assholes? Oh. Sorry. Language,” her daughter had the grace to look a little sheepish, but not sorry.

Fiorenze smiled wryly, heart aching, “No need to censor yourself on my account, darling. There’s a lot for us to catch up on. We can take the longer path back.”

@daily-writing-challenge / @kharrisdawndancer & @xylaes small mentions.

#augustdwc2023 #augustday32023 #fio-renze

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alovelyburn · 10 months

Text

Rambles about the Millenium Falcon Arc Part 5

...long time no see.

I actually did start writing this a month ago, but it took a bit to get my brain back in the right place after so long away. BUT I’M BACK hi.

Rambles about the Millenium Falcon Arc Part 5

Even though I do think Isidro is meant to evoke Guts he’s obviously not a 1-to-1 comparison, like he’s much more of a chaos imp than Guts ever was. Also he’s scrawny – I do wonder if he should focus more on ranged combat given how good he is with missile attacks. This doesn’t matter at all, but I’m warming up, lmao.

One of the things Miura talked about when he discussed the reason for the reaction for whatever such and such a character was this idea of designing characters to bring out different shades of Guts in order to make him a more multidimensional character. I think this is something he really excelled at – it’s interesting to see his more mentorly side coming out, not to mention the difference between the way Guts treats Isidro and, say, the way Gambino treated him does highlight Guts’ generally better... nature.

And that’s interesting because I’ve talked a lot before about how post-Eclipse (and pre-meeting Griffith) Guts had taken on a lot of Gambino’s traits and attitudes... which is arguably not the best way to navigate the world. But that’s a side of him that comes out mostly when he’s alone and frustrated – when he’s a kid on the road, for example, or after the Eclipse but before meeting Puck. Which is to say, it’s a self-defense mechanism for when he feels lost or angry and lonely without a lot of outlet. When he has people around he chills out considerably, which makes his attempts at being a lone wolf feel a little self-destructive.

I just love how Guts is completely disinterested unless there’s some kind of fight involved. More than that, though, as a pretty straightforward person I suppose he doesn’t have a lot of interest in interacting with people who are wearing a civil mask and carrying ulterior motives.

As for Serpico, it must be odd watching her change so quickly and so completely. This is the beginning of a longer subplot with him watching being weirded out by it and I guess kind of jealous and kind of saddened that Guts and their companions were able to change Farnese in ways he was unable to and thus make her a much healthier and less troubled person.

Okay so as a sidenote, I do really get tired of this. I understand that Casca and Farnese are the most helpless in the group, but the thing where they are constantly the ones targeted for danger is a little meh. You could argue that in the case of trolls it makes sense – given what we later learn about their actions and breeding habits – but it’s still repetitive because they end up being swept up and pulled into troll haven or whatever together again in the future, so like maybe a different plot point? Like the trolls’ presence could have been announced with a battle scene and then Casca and Farnese could have been separated from the group later without eliciting a kind of “oh this again?” type of response, I’m just saying.

Anyway, you know the deal, me and fight scenes are like, eh.

The introduction of magic definitely changed the tone of Berserk. Miura did mention that he made it difficult to manage and slow to start up for balance reasons, and I do think the balance has been largely maintained but it obviously did change the scale of the series and the battles – same with the Berserker armor, for example. This isn’t actually a problem for me in theory but I think the one thing I wish he had done is... I guess better foreshadow the existence of all these things, right?

Like I don’t expect him to have witches in the BSM arc for example – he hadn’t even thought of it yet, he didn’t even know what the main conflict of the story would be until volume 3. But it would have been cool to have more of a buildup leading into Flora and Schierke’s introduction.

Anyway it doesn’t bother me that much, it’s more like the existence of the Hawk prophecies – a missed opportunity that was probably missed just because he hadn’t thought of it yet.

I wonder if Ivalera is going to like, make more of an impact on me during this readthrough. Because honestly, this is volume 24 right? She’s been with them for almost 20 volumes, and I never remember that she exists.

Ah, Schierke. It’s almost fitting that the kind of lighter/less grim tone came in with her because the anime vibes kind of did, too – green hair and all that. I should clarify that I don’t actually mind the lighter tone or the magic or anything, I just think it’s interesting how quickly Berserk went from like grim gritty low fantasy that borders on horror to like epic fantasy adventures. This arc is kind of a transitional point since the trolls are very old Berserk, but obviously the introduction of Schierke and Ivalera really bridge into new Berserk.

Okay this is a little bit of a tangent, but it’s something I was just thinking about today.

So Casca is, for me, uhh... so many a series has a character in it that’s like a major part of the story but you just can’t warm to them and kinda wish they weren’t there because they feel kind of like baggage. That’s how I feel about Post-Eclipse Casca. Like during the Golden Age she served a narrative purpose right, she’s a foil for Guts and then his love interest and then one of his greatest losses. Cool.

Post-Eclipse though I’m just not sure. Don’t get me wrong, I know she’s involved in the story, like half the story is about getting her to Elfhelm. But – and im not sure whether I can articulate this properly but I’m trying – I feel like even though the story revolves around her, she is nonetheless an extra appendage to the plot. She’s a MacGuffin. Her existence causes people to run around trying to do things but she herself is not involved in those things or even really important to them and there’s no purpose she serves in the story that couldn’t be served by something else without much of a change to the core of the plot.

Guts could get to Conviction any way – he could just go there because of the revelation from Griffith, he could get dragged there by Farnese and then escape, he could just be led there by fate – there’s nothing inherent to the Conviction arc that requires him to be chasing Casca. You could say her biggest contribution to the plot post-Eclipse is as a Griffith-obsession-meter, like if he doesn’t care about her, then he’s in full Griffith-fixation mode, and if he’s focused on protecting her, his Griffith obsession is waning.

I don’t know. There is a large part of the fanbase (most of it in the English speaker quarter, in fact) that perceives her as the third protagonist and really puts a narrative weight on her but I honestly think it’s mostly headcanon and cope, lmao. She’s a MacGuffin.

Anyway the reason this section kinda set me off on it is because Casca gets kidnapped or spirited off to Trollhaven twice in this one arc, and she was sexually assaulted twice since Conviction, and she was sexually assaulted and pushed around and used as a MacGuffin for most of Conviction and while this is somewhat true of Farnese as well at this point (the troll thing anyway)... Farnese then becomes a much more formidable person under her own power whereas Casca languishes, gets her memory back, has multiple unconsciousness-inducing flashbacks and then gets kidnapped.

Hmm, I guess the gist of this rant is just “Casca is a character Miura randomly decided to hook up with Guts for drama and then kept around so that Guts would stay mad, and it shows.”

And of course it helps that Casca ends up spending more time with Farnese than Guts so that relationship isn’t’ really emphasized very much outside of a “what is she to you? Oooohh I think I know....” comment every like 8 real world years.

Anyway if she turns out to be crucial in a way that is unique to her later, I’ll be relieved but for now I’m eh.

/rant mode off

So one of the things I really enjoy about Berserk is this feeling that Griffith’s presence, or even the promise of his arrival, inherently changes the world. Before the Eclipse, apostles became more active, and after it they were obviously more present than they had bene before. And after Griffith’s reincarnation, the barrier between the physical and the astral planes start to blur a bit, bringing the monsters out and strengthening the magical gifts of people like Sonia. His presence is such that he changes the world simply by being there... in various ways. Obviously things like bringing the trolls into the world aren’t great, lmao.

And, of course, Guts understands what’s going on even if no one else does yet.

Establishment shot! I’m sort of fascinated by Flora’s mansion if only because it doesn’t actually exist in the physical world.

Now that I’ve gone into that whole rant about Casca, I will take a moment to say it’d be cool if there turned out to be a reason she randomly went digging in the golem – an instinct through her connection to the Moonkid/Griffith, maybe, or just an instinct in general. It’s not something I expect to come up, to be clear – she’s probably just being a curious child since she’s mentally a toddler. But you know, wishful thinking.

This image really sent me off on a death spiral into one of my more obscure theories, which I’m not going to talk about because I hate being wrong about things I’m not ready to be wrong about. But anyway I did look a bit into the meaning of the pentagram which told me... first of all that the use of the pentagram seems to precede any of the meanings we know to ascribe to it, which make sense. But also, that the points of the pentagram represent either the wounds of Christ, the senses, or five elements.

This sent me into a rabbit hole of reading up on elements as understood in different cultures. What I found interesting was like, it seems most places (most) have the same four elements we still talk about today at least to some degree (like it might be wind instead of air, but you know), but there’s sometimes a fifth thing – spirit or heart, for example, in the case of neoplatonic elements, or void/emptiness for Japanese philosophy.

And then I thought about the way Miura liked to combine the philosophies and religious tenants from different cultures instead of trying to fully replicate a specific perspective in his work. Rather the cosmology of Berserk is a little bit of everything, you know? Which made me think... considering the fifth element in Berserk’s world to be Spirit or Emptiness works very well with the way Berserk is set up but it also tends to imply that there’s a fifth elemental lord, unless the joke is that the element is emptiness so the spot for the lord is empty. I’ll probably yada yada more about this when I get to Schierke’s spell in the village because she does say something interesting that I think bears commentary.

But the way Miura repeatedly put the pentagram in a prominent position - even having a whole panel that was nothing but the pentagram, strikes me as interesting and significant.

But one of the things is this: I believe that all religions in Berserk are faces for the same underlying powers – IoE and the Godhand (and perhaps some other servants who fulfill different functions but we don’t know about that). It explains why the old Godhand look like ancient gods, and it explains why Flora triggers Guts’ brand, which is supposed to react to demonic power. Because in the end, she’s still drawing from the same well but in a different way.

Guts being polite as usual, lmao.

It’s interesting that Flora seems to know she’s going to die soon. I know that you could interpret it as her knowing that she is just getting too old and weak, but considering she tells Schierke that they’ll meet again, which refers to the Casca’s Mindscape sequence 30+ volumes later, I assume she has some kind of plug into the future, albeit in a limited way. Skull Knight seems to be similar.

After this Guts says, “It’ll protect against that” with the image of his beast self raping/killing Casca. Which makes me think this scene fuels people’s assertion that he was possessed when he did that, which he wasn’t. But I do think the possessions prior kind of kicked him in that direction and he was unable to extricate himself from it until he was made violently aware of his own dark side and how dangerous it was.

Okay so now we’re going to talk worldbuilding, its my favorite thing.

Bringing this back.

Okay so, I’m just going to break this down into a form I can better reference, rofl.

The Astral plane is, as Griffith would say, where they become one – the afterlife, and also the home of supernatural forces and beings. When someone senses/believes in something that is technically part of the astral world hard enough the thing becomes visible in the physical world, which is why elves have become recognized in the physical world. Later we’ll find out that the astral world’s... stuff used to be a much greater part of the physical world but started disappearing from the physical realm as people drifted from the perspectives that allowed them to be perceived, which continues right up until Griffith brings them back together.

Then the Realm of Idea (the graphic misnames it) is... it kind of reminds me of the concept of the Root in the Fate franchise (and also several actual world religions nevermind that though). The origin of all existence, the blueprint of reality.

And subrealms:

Physical Realm – where people usually are.

Interstice – a shallow level of the Astral Plane that mostly just looks like the physical realm. This is where Guts and Casca are because of the brand. Also where things like ghosts come from when they haven’t realized or accepted their deaths and headed back to the Vortex.

Nexus – a deeper part of the Astral and the space opened by the Behelit/location of the Sacrifice ceremonies. This is interesting to me because Miura once said that in order to injure an astral body, the person trying to injure them has to be in the astral plane as well. Which brings to mind the arguments over whether the Godhand can actually be hurt – people say they must be mortal to some degree because they protect their bodies – e.g Void deflects Skull Knight’s blow and the only time Femto ever defends himself vs Guts is during the BSM arc when the Slug Count uses the behelit to bring the Godhand out. But it makes sense that they defend themselves during Eclipses or Sacrifice ceremonies because during those moments, the entire area is sucked into the Nexus, which means they can be injured in ways they cant be if they’re just walking around on the physical world. Thus, for example, the impossibility of injuring Griffith in the physical world.

The Vortex – A deeper level of the Astral Plane where the megapowers are, e.g. the Godhand, the Element Kings etc. The sea god from the pirate arc, like that.

The Abyss – where the Idea of Evil hangs out.

This page is often cited as proof that there is a heaven and hell, but Flora really is just engaging in conjecture. That said, it does seem like there are places that are more or less pleasant within the astral plane, at least on lower levels like the Interstice, so I suppose its possible that they exist in the Vortex as well. This is one of the areas where I’m the most conflicted because there’s a pretty strong indication that post-death humans lose their sense of self and join the sea of souls where no one has any individuality or identity, but there’s also this comment about karma and such. Plus we do know that some humans do not just melt into the vortex because Flora herself instead became a Daimon although we don’t find that out for a long time.

Right now, I’m sort of operating with the idea that post-death a person retains a sense of self for a certain period of time, during which their experience is dictated by their karma, before they eventually break apart and join the sea. But that’s just a fan wank it’s really an unknown at this time.

This comment is interesting because it brings to mind Schierke’s later comment that the four elemental kings are the same beings that are named in scripture as the four cardinal angels of God. As I said earlier, all religions are one religion.

What did I say the other day? Even witches refer to Griffith as an angel. This kind of burns my bum because people focus on the demon thing very strongly and tend to either ignore the other side of them or suggest that they’re not really angels but are pretending to be – I think Guts even suggests that at one point. But Guts is biased and Flora would know better than he does.

Not for nothing but Guts is being stupid here. Not too surprising, but like what is he going to do, summon them and launch himself at them? They’d crush him like a bug without moving. Come on, man.

But in all seriousness, Guts’ absolute faith in his ability to find a way to win is one of my favorite things about him, but it’s also what leads to him having a mental breakdown when he cant hit Griffith later. I don’t think he’s ever considered the possibility that there’s something he can’t fight his way through.

This also confirms, btw, that Guts hasn’t given up on revenge just put it on hold until he can get Casca to Elfhelm. Otherwise why would he still be trying to figure out how to get at the Godhand? It’s also the best indication that he isn’t only angry at Griffith but at the entire group of them. I assume it’s not dissimilar to the way Skull Knight runs straight at Void if he’s there, but he wont turn down an opportunity to throw a blow at any of them.

So, one of the things that fuels speculation that Casca might be destined to use that Behelit is that... when it comes out, and they’re talking about it, she seems to be drawn to it for no real reason, right, like she just comes walking toward them making interested noises and Farnese has to pull her away.

The obvious counter would be that she comes out because Flora is about to talk about her and Guts’ mission to protect her, but she didn’t really need to be there for that – people talk about Casca and Guts’ relationship or his intentions with regards to her without her being there all the time.

It’s interesting. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but given Miura’s ways it wouldn’t surprise me if it did.

He didn’t listen when Godot told him this before, no way he’s listening now.

But really she doesn’t seem to be trying to tell him to give it up, which doesn’t surprise me – she’s a friend of Skull Knight’s, so I’m sure she understands how pointless arguing with someone in this situation can be.

“The fate associated with it rests in the hands of its master who sent it.” I assume that’s IoE but it does highlight the fact that Slan seemed to be able to affect its reaction/availability to Guts.

When I try to figure out who the behelit might belong to, though, I admit I have a kind of difficult time imagining who it could be aside from Casca or Guts. If it’s Guts, then I would expect it’s there for him to ultimately resist, thus finally breaking the chains of fate that he’s been fighting but accidentally getting further caught in for years. If it’s Casca, on the other hand, I think that ends badly for her. There’s a small chance that such an option could appear for her to give her the chance to turn it down as well, but I’m not sure I believe that she has it in her.

I also can’t think of anyone else that the behelit would really fit in a way that advances the story/moves toward the fulfillment of the narrative promise, really. So I still think the best bet is Casca, though that doesn’t guarantee it obviously. If it’s Guts, on the other hand... well, I guess he’s craving his power right now, isn’t he? I mean in current chapters.

I feel you, Guts.

But no, I gather she means that they’re the servants of the Idea of Evil (unnamed but still), and that they’re mysteries because humans can’t go to where they are, even in astral form, thus they remain mysterious.

Okay translation rant. I wanted to make sure that “If he is the Hawk of Darkness, then he is dreadful” was actually accurate, which it is KIND OF?

What Schierke is saying is

あの者が黙示録に記された五番目の御使いが受肉した姿。。。闇の鷹なのだとしたら者恐るべきことです。

That person is the [incarnated form] of the fifth angel written down in the [Book of Revelation]. If (he’s) the Hawk of Darkness he is.... [dreadful]

So a couple of things. I’m showing dictionary definitions because it’s good to show receipts, lmao.

-The word translated as incarnation is specifically the incarnation of Christ.

-The word used for revelation is specifically the Book of Revelation, though it also means Apocalypse – Utena fans may remember it:

-Finally, the phrase translated here as “dreadful”,

So it does mean dreadful but also fearsome, formidable, like a dangerous or difficult adversary.

So okay one thing I notice about Miura is that he liked to use ambiguous phrasing – the phrase translated as “you’re the only one who made me forget my dream” for example, also means “you’re the only one who let me forget my dream.” Similarly, the word translated as “evil” in a lot of places in Berserk also means “magic” or a supernatural force of some kind, and sometimes it makes more sense that they’d mean magic but the translation still says evil.

I’ll be honest, I think he did it on purpose. Because for example a sentence that means both “let me forget” and “made me forget” reflects the conflict within Griffith himself about Guts’ impact on him and how it affected his goals, which were both burdensome and meant to be his most important thing. So in the discussion of which way it was intended to be read, my main thought is “both.”

How this relates to this sentence is just this: It’s translated as dreadful which isn’t inaccurate but in the context of the discussion Schierke and Flora are having, Schierke isn’t talking about how awful and deplorable the fifth angel is, she’s talking about how Guts has to be crazy to go against him because he’s absurdly powerful. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think her statement is meant to evoke how terrifying he is, either. But even so, and this isn’t the translator’s fault because English doesn’t work the same way Japanese does, but... I can’t help thinking that just saying “dreadful” makes it sound like she’s just saying “he’s awful and deplorable” rather than that he’s a frightening opponent or person. And that doesn’t make sense because Schierke was previously shown to be sort of unsure about whether he would be the savior or (something) else.

It’s also interesting that he doesn’t name some random prophecy but rather the biblical Book of Revelation. And that he didn’t have Schierke refer to Griffith with a normal “incarnation” or “bodied form” or whatever – because there are words for that – but rather as specifically the incarnation of Christ. It does make it very clear (VERY clear) that Griffith here is envisioned as the Berserk equivalent of a Christ-figure as predicted by the Berserk equivalent of the Bible. The fact that he’s served by, you know, apostles should also be a clue about this, but I know people like to suggest he’s an antichrist instead, but I mean...

He’s both isn’t he? I mean I know I’ve talked about this enough but it does make sense that in a world where God is the Idea of Evil, the Christ-equivalent would be a more complicated figure as well.

I just think it’s interesting like... Miura uses a lot of Catholic concepts and imagery in Berserk, but they don’t always mean the same thing as they do in the real-world religion. People often try to read Berserk with I guess real world Christianity in mind, and I get it because of the very obvious parallels, but I do think it’s a bit of a trap.

The thing I wonder a lot – although I guess it’s more like I think about it a lot than that I wonder about it – is the relationship between Skull Knight and Flora. Later I’ll ponder on it in greater depth but it’s interesting to me that even after seeing what happened to Gaiseric she still has this belief that fate can be countered. It’s very different than, say, Skull Knight who kind of lets slip during the death of Elfhelm that fate often cannot be overcome, but that people fight anyway because it’s just the nature of humanity to fight fate (and lose).

Flora’s view echoes Guts’ though, from the Conviction arc when he said he doesn’t believe in causality because he and Casca were meant to die but didn’t. On the other hand... is that really true? Like, Zodd said death would come for him – a death he cannot escape. But Skull Knight was the one who implied to him (right after he left the Hawks) that he could survive it. And if you think about it, given that the demon child/moonkid became Griffith’s vessel there’s a good argument that Casca was always meant to survive, too.

So. I know a lot of people take Flora’s word as gospel, but a lot of characters say things that contradict so they can’t all be right. Though I do think there’s a decent argument that she’s the least biased and her view possibly reflects the attitude that Miura himself brought to the table since he did say he wanted there to be hope in the story, as well.

This has nothing to do with anything but the sylph thing kind of freaks me out. I don’t think I could wear clothing that’s coated in little “living” things, eep.

And honestly, wtf is wrong with Puck? HOW DOES HE NOT KNOW THIS, HE’S FROM ELFHELM.

I have such conflicted feelings about how Farnese and Casca just got some silver shirts (and a silver knife). Because the thing is, I understand that Casca uh probably can’t trusted with a weapon right now, and that Farnese isn’t a fighter at all. But I still feel like some kind of, say, elementally empowered weapon would be helpful for Farnese at least, considering how often these two get kidnapped or spirited away or trapped in dangerous situations.

I wonder what the axe did.

This lead in to the thing where his sword is kind of magical from fighting magical things is pretty interesting to me because... for years the theory was that his sword could hurt Griffith because of that. And it seemed like a decent theory but of course is proven completely wrong on every level. Misdirection! That is, unless the “he cut a hair off of Griffith’s head” theory turns out to be true but that seems increasingly unlikely since it hasn’t come up at all.

By having the brand, Guts and Casca are basically just walking around in the afterlife all the time – at least the edges of it, so I guess they ended up in tune with the dead even though they themselves didn’t literally die. It seems the Apostles also kind of walk that line, which makes sense given their connection to “hell” or whatever. It’s kind of wild to think about the house they’re hanging around in not technically existing in a physical sense.

I mean in fairness he only left her behind once, it was just a really long time.

Anyway, this just reminds me of the time I got that Ask from someone kind of ranting about how Guts has to be with Casca because she’s the only reason he’s still human, which was kind of stupid. Don’t get me wrong, I recognize that protecting her is a strong motivating factor for him, but obviously he was already fighting to remain human for the entire series and I also think... the path he has chosen as a defender and as someone who no longer throws his connections away is as much a part of his continued humanity as Casca herself, specifically – that’s why the Beast always tells him to ditch the whole crew not just Casca.

Also, as I recall, Flora had some knowledge that she was going to be killed soon which... I imagine made it somewhat relieving for her to not have to explain why Casca couldn’t stay there. Also...

It lends this bit a poignancy.

Okay so... I often wonder about the specifics of Flora and Skull Knight’s relationship... and to be more specific whether her role in his life was similar to Schierke’s role in Guts’ life. Was she his spiritual anchor before he got eaten by the darkness? If so then you could say she failed, which Schierke is also in danger of doing in current canon since Guts is losing his shit.

There are so many things that make me sad about Miura’s passing. There’s the obvious human element in itself, but there’s also things like how he talked about doing an arc of the Skull Knight’s history, and how on the DVD for the memorial edition ova, a note came up saying things he says may no longer be applicable. I mean for obvious reasons. But does that mean we’ll never know the deal? I hope not. I want to know what Flora did that got her exiled from Elfhelm and what Skull Knight’s goal really is... I mean this is whiny because everyone has the same concerns and thoughts, but you know, just thinking.

And there it is – bringing to question whether Guts is actually acting in free will or not. Because what I get from this is that Flora asks him why he’s trying to get Guts to do certain things or go certain places, and whether it’s because he feels sympathetic or for some selfish reason, and Skull Knight is basically like, even if I didn’t personally lead him around, he may well be led by causality anyway.

It reminds me of the guidebook noting that Skull Knight seemed to be trying to lead Guts in a certain direction.

I think Skull Knight is ultimately meant to be a cautionary tale for Guts, like... this is what he becomes if he doesn’t let go of his anger and choose his connections and humanity instead... which is not what Gaiseric did back in the day. This does kind of make me wonder to what degree I just talk myself around thinking Guts primarily relies on Casca for humanity though, because one major difference between them seems to be that Casca didn’t die but Skull Knight’s wife or whoever that was did.

Although I guess that’s odd too because Dannan seems to be his ex in some way that isn’t wholly literal.

And this is a really interesting bit for me, because it’s Flora continuing/finishing her comment earlier about God giving them fate – the fate called encounters. So when she tells Schierke God gives us fate and we humans choose it, you can suppose that she isn’t so much talking about Schierke being destined to do such and such but rather she’s talking about Schierke having the option to accept the opportunity to know and involve herself in this story or not.

Also, a final little thought-break – the way the witches here talk about God is interesting to me because it does seem like they buy into the “religion” of the world in a way you wouldn’t necessarily expect, right, like Flora directly references fate being sent by God. They also refer to the God Hand as angels, and later Schierke will explain that the element kings are basically biblical archangels by another name.

And that goes back to all religions are one religion – the same elements with different names and viewed through different prisms but nonetheless the same beings. I kind of think of the different religions within Berserk’s world as... looking at something from one angle vs another angle. Like if you stand in front of something it looks one way and you can only see the front and part of the sides, whereas if you stand to the side you see its side and only part of its front and back, etc. Point being, it’s still the same thing, it’s just that different perspectives or belief systems “see” and name different parts of it.

That thought leads me down some interesting rabbit holes with Berserk though.

Anyway, next up, trolls.

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enigmage · 6 months

Text

Application

It’s said that most people are too used to their reflection in a mirror to recognize their actual face.

This is true.

It had happened so many times that logic would dictate it would continue to happen, that they could take the shape of a stranger and the stranger had to squint and tilt their head at them, grasping at what was so familiar it became unfamiliar. Voices, too, were heard through flesh and bone rather than air from one’s own throat. People often couldn’t recognize those right away either.

They could not blame people for this. They wouldn’t know their prior face either.

Once, they had seen it on a mosaic, depicting the Eight Heroes. Of all the tiled, glorious, ancient faces, they could not distinguish who they had been. History turned people into figurines, identifiable by their symbols, their relics. No, the answer was no longer in the face of what was once human, only in the tome they still possessed.

Rather, the tome that had possessed them.

What shape did water take when outside of a glass? They were like this until they pulled themselves into something resembling what they saw, holding onto a new heartbeat for just a little longer. They neither liked or disliked the sensation. It simply was.

The world was a series of facts to investigate, themselves only a sense of will. There was little point on self reflection: they quite literally didn’t have a self to reflect.

There was a series of sounds, a name, to go with the tome, a title to the book.

Bramimond.

They had a mission, a way to pass time as they watched the grains of time drift by, touching all but magic itself, their existence. This task of passive guarding had been simple.

But the Shrine of Seals was no longer their charge. No, not even Elibe itself was their binding home.

The danger had moved.

This is what they said when faced with questions, unknown eyes before them trying to get answers, as if their words could give more than questions. The guard to a place they called Abyss held a spear pointed at their- rather, an identical copy of his armored chest, gripping the spear tightly.

“How did you even find this place?” he asked, voice high with apprehension.

Instinct, fate, what did it matter?

Bramimond responded in his voice.

“Woah, calm down! I’m just going where I need to, okay?” they sounded defensive.

Another guard ran up to them, a brunette woman with fancier armor, looking between the two of them, speaking in an authoritative tone. “What’s going on here? Infighting?”

Bramimond looked at her and their features shifted like rippling water, taking on her wavy brown hair and commanding voice. “No. I need to be here, and you will let me pass.”

Both of them stood still, shocked.

Bramimond raised their head higher. “There is danger in these lands. My calling is no longer in my homeland. I am a protector. My will is to ensure that this world shall continue, as was the deal, and here I face the greatest threats this world has. You shall not stand in the way of destiny.”

The female guard captain and the other guard readied their weapons, but Bramimond had dealt with this before. They broke into a run, pushing past them, unwilling to unleash Dark Magic on people who simply didn’t know better.

The underground marketplace was perfect cover.

Taking the form of a cloaked worker, they ducked their head and hurried away, unable to be tracked. They kept walking like that until they meandered into the residential area of Abyss, not making eye contact with anyone, not wanting to change their shape again to complicate matters further.

It took them observing another person to feel their form shift, all trappings of the previous body gone, even the memory of it beyond what they could physically hold onto. The emotions they expressed were not their own, but just a reflection.

They had a task, a purpose, nothing more.

Abyss was home to people who needed somewhere to stay with few questions asked. They found a spare room in a far off, dark corner. Some shelter and a bed was all they needed.

When they laid down, they were not relieved. They were not homesick, sad, elated, happy, or anything. Their heart was as blank as the darkness above their head.

There was a goal: Get to Fodlan. Keep watch there.

They had succeeded.

That was all.

Humans often found words inadequate to describe how they felt and the world around them. Words existed to bring something more powerful and evocative into existence, to filter being human into something shared.

For them, it was quite the opposite.

Words, logic, a functioning mind that understood reason- this was all they knew. Their reference was only in the book in their hands and the code of their mind. They could remember how humans felt, how the frightened guard’s heart had leapt as their own, how the captain’s businesslike tone had rang out from both of their throats, how events were supposed to dictate one’s mood, but neither stayed, neither could be conjured up by them even if they wanted it, it was merely data, a borrowed moment, a brief log into their blank canvas.

Bramimond closed their eyes, as that was needed for rest.

They played what role was given to them- no, even forced upon them, walking in another’s skin once they perceived them. This was just what they were.

A walking mirror.

#application #//ill link this in their bio and pinned when i get that up but Hello #about the muse

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wild-karrde · 1 year

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In Command - Part 6

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: As always, thank you to the wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading and encouraging me when I get paranoid about things.

Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: panic attacks/PTSD, Fisk being a general creep

Word Count: 5.5k words

She was racing through the forest, blaster bolts whizzing by her head. The vines and brambles tore at her clothes, and her long hair stuck to her neck and face. Her breath came in short, frantic gulps as she inhaled the heavy humid air, fighting the panic rising within her. The lightsaber in her right hand hummed against her palm as she slashed through the foliage around her that was slowing her down.

They were coming.

A branch near her head exploded with blaster fire, and the splintering wood sliced her cheek and cut open her shoulder to her collarbone. She tasted blood and sweat in her mouth, but still she ran.

Why would they do this?

As she reached an especially thick group of vines, she swung her lightsaber once more, frantically cutting at them, ripping her way forward with a frustrated scream. After what felt like an eternity, she sliced through the final knot of shrubbery and raced into the open, tripping over a root sticking out of the ground. Her lightsaber flew from her hand as she fell forward, powering down and embedding itself in warm sand. She scrambled, pushing her body up. Her calves were burning as she struggled to stand, recalling her lightsaber to her hand with the Force.

There’s no sand on… where am I?

The thick forests of Kashyyyk had faded around her, replaced by a beach that stretched out before her, white sands being lapped at by gentle blue waves. The blaster fire behind her had faded, and she felt an eerie calm come over her in its absence. It was silent as she walked towards the water, her boots slipping in sand.

Too silent.

She stood at the edge of the waves, the water brushing the toes of her boots. She strained her ears to hear anything, a birdsong, a shout, the sound of a ship, but she was met with only the gentle sound of the waves.

Suddenly, she felt a presence at her side. Turning, she saw the clone trooper with the Jaig eyes on his helmet, his blue and white armor glinting in the sun. Wordlessly, he pointed, and she followed his finger to see a moon hovering in the twilight sky.

No, not a moon…

She opened her mouth to ask a question, but before she could utter a single word, the sky erupted with green light, and an explosion blossomed in front of them, engulfing the entire sky with fire as the planet disintegrated beneath their feet. The shockwave and explosion raced towards them. Senna felt an eerie calm fall over her as she reached out her hand to the trooper, and he took it as the destruction approached. She looked into his helmet, and he raised a hand to remove it, his thumb slipping under the lip just as the searing heat and light reached them-

—

The sound of a soft yelp startled Rex awake. He sat up in his bed for a moment, trying to still his breath to better listen in the dark to see if he would hear the noise again. His eyes briefly flicked to the comm on his nightstand, but as usual, it was frustratingly dark. Before he could allow his disappointment to fester, another quiet whimper shattered the silence.

Senna.

He threw back the covers, feeling around in the dark for a pair of trousers to throw on before he raced up the stairs. He didn’t know what was haunting her, but he didn’t want her to have to endure it longer than she had to.

When he reached her door, it was cracked open, and he paused for a moment, wondering if she’d woken herself up. A moment later, he heard rustling followed by a muted scream, as though her mouth was clamped shut. He rushed inside.

Senna was in her bed, her hair sticking to her forehead and her body drenched in sweat. He could see the veins in her neck, and her hands were fisted in the sheets as she thrashed, trying to fight off whatever was chasing her in her dreams.

He didn’t have to really wonder what that was.

Rex hovered over her, unsure if his touch would be welcome until he saw a tear leak from the corner of her eye. Her whole body shuddered with another mournful whimper, and that dissolved whatever was left of Rex’s hesitation. He sat next to her on the bed, tapping on her bedside lamp before gripping her shoulders and gently shaking her.

“Senna, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

She awoke, sitting up abruptly and gasping. Sweat trickled down her face and her eyes were wild with terror. Rex reached forward, cupping her cheeks, and it was as if she finally saw him sitting there. She blinked rapidly, her voice catching in her throat.

“Rex… I…”

“I know,” he murmured. “I know. But it’s alright now. You’re safe.”

Senna unleashed a sob, tipping forward and covering her face with her hands. The muted mantra that Rex had heard her whisper before finally became clear as she rocked back and forth, trying to steady her breathing in between the sobs that wracked her body.

“I am one with the Force, and the F-Force is with me. I am one with the Force, a-and the Force is with me.”

The same thing Ahsoka whispered to me on the Venator. When she was trying to wake me.

The words had often echoed in his mind over the past year, and it brought him a certain comfort and feeling of connection to Senna hearing them now. Scooting closer, Rex wrapped his arms around her hesitantly. Senna had no such hesitation in reciprocating, flinging her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. Rex felt himself relax into the embrace as he felt her tears against the skin of his shoulder. Her fingertips dug into his back and shoulders slightly, as if she were afraid he’d disappear in a waft of smoke and leave her alone in her nightmare again. Rex rested his chin on the top of her head, gently stroking her hair and rocking her as she worked to calm herself.

“It’s alright, Senna. You’re safe.” He repeated the words over and over again, hoping they’d bring her some reassurance. Eventually, the puffs of breath he could feel against his chest slowed, and Senna sat back, wiping at her eyes and sniffling.

“Order 66 again?” Rex asked quietly.

She nodded, clearing her throat. She ran shaking hands through her hair, trying to smooth her wild brunette waves as she took another steadying breath.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No,” she rasped, her voice raw. “I’m sorry. Not yet.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered. Placing his hands on her shoulders, Rex gently eased her back onto her pillows, scooting forward so that he was sitting closer to the head of the bed, his hip brushing her shoulder. She folded her hands across her chest, taking another deep inhale, closing her eyes and holding it before releasing it slowly. When her eyes fluttered back open, she gave him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“Will you be able to go back to sleep?” he asked.

“I think so,” she whispered.

“Good. Don’t forget you’ve got a hot date with Fisk tomorrow.”

She grinned, and some of the light came back to her eyes as she rolled them at him. “How could I forget?”

Rex returned her smile, giving her arm a squeeze. “Alright. Good night then.”

He pushed himself to a standing position, but Senna reached over, catching his arm in a firm grip. He paused, looking down at her. He expected to see a playful glare, but instead, she was chewing her lip, struggling internally with something. Finally, she met his eyes.

“Would you stay?” she asked, almost too quietly for him to hear.

Rex hesitated, and she noticed, seemingly receding into herself. “Nevermind,” she mumbled. “That was silly.”

“No. I can stay.”

The words escaped Rex’s lips as though they were a reflex, clearly surprising them both. The two of them watched each other for a moment.

“If you’re sure,” he clarified.

Senna nodded.

Rex flexed his fingers nervously before walking around to the other side of the bed. He stiffly sat on top of the covers next to her, interlacing his fingers on his stomach.

“Are you not going to sleep?” she asked, her voice slightly teasing.

“No. No I will.”

She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous then. Get under the blankets. We’re all adults here.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Are we? Because this is starting to feel like a sleepover.”

She rolled her eyes again, turning away from him and turning the lamp back off as he slipped under the sheets. Silence hung between the two of them, and he started to wonder if she’d managed to fall back asleep until she whispered again.

“Rex, this may sound like a strange request. But, can…can you hold me please?”

He was thankful that the lights were out since he felt like his cheeks were suddenly on fire. But as he lay there, he could feel the bed shake slightly and realized that Senna was still trembling slightly, not fully free of the fear that her nightmare had wrought. His desire to comfort her overwhelmed his nerves.

“Uh…sure. If you’re comfortable with that.”

Rex slowly rolled onto his side, sliding his right arm under her pillow and scooting closer so her back was pressed against his chest. Senna reached behind her to grab his left arm, pulling it across her. He could still feel her shaking as her fingers locked around his arm, and he pulled her closer.

“I’ve got you,” he rumbled quietly. “You’re safe.”

“I know.”

After a few moments, he felt the tension slip from her shoulders as she rested her hands against his arms, and slowly, he felt himself relax as well. Eventually, he felt her breathing begin to deepen, and soon she was gently snoring, her hair slightly tickling his nose as he too began to drift off. It had been so long since Rex had slept with another person, and even longer still since it hadn’t involved more carnal activities. But in this moment with Senna tucked against him, it felt as though his body relaxed for the first time in years, as if having her sleeping form next to his would guard against the nightmares that chased him as well. It didn’t take him long to follow her into slumber.

Just before he drifted off, he mentally noted her skin smelled of sandalwood, and he wondered if it was her soap or perfume before sleep took him.

—

“Rex, are you sure you understand how to work this thing?”

The captain glanced up at her through his eyebrows, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Yes, you’ve walked me through it at least three times, Senna. It’s going to be fine. You’ve got to stop worrying.”

Senna glared at him. “That’s rich coming from you.”

He sighed, turning the device over in his hand as he walked through her instructions again. “Fine. You’ll get the disk off of Fisk somehow and get it to me without being noticed, I slip it into the copier on this side.” He touched the slot that ran along one edge of the device before flipping it to gesture at an identical slot on the other side. “The blank disk will be in this slot. From there, I’ll hit the designated pre-programed copy sequence you coded by hitting this button,” he continued, jabbing at the conspicuously red button, “and then wait until the red light stops flashing, which indicates that the copy is complete. From there, I carefully eject both disks to ensure that I don’t corrupt either, and you’ll swipe the original and slip it back on Fisk before he knows it’s gone.”

She chewed her lip, clearly still harboring some nerves. “Ok, I think you’ve got it.”

One corner of his mouth pulled upwards into an amused smirk. “I would hope so. You made it almost insultingly simple.” He’d never seen her so concerned, and he found it odd considering the amount of preparation that had gone into this.

“I don’t like that you’re doing it and not me,” she explained, her eyes flicking back and forth between the copier and his face.

“Well, it might be obvious if you’ve got a blinking, hodge-podged disk copier under the table.”

Her nose wrinkled. “You know, that’s not my best work, but I would hardly call it hodge-podged,” she muttered, trying to shove past him, but he grabbed her shoulder as she passed, turning her to look at him. Her brows were knitted together in a scowl, but he didn’t miss the way her teeth dug into her lower lip, a nervous habit he’d started to notice. He loosened his grip, resting both hands on her shoulders.

“Listen, you’ve done great getting this pulled together. Now, you need to trust me to do my job. You just do yours and charm Fisk.”

She groaned, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as she rolled her eyes. “I’m getting less and less excited about that prospect.”

“At least it’s a prospect.”

She punched him in the arm. “Not exactly an abundance of time to pursue a romantic partner here, you know.”

He grinned. “I’m not judging.”

The joking appeared to have set her a little more at ease. She gave him a nod.

“Ok, you’d better get going. You’ve got to make sure you’re there and settled before he and I get there.”

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, donning his hooded poncho and a face mask before turning towards the front door of the dwelling.

“And Rex?”

He paused, turning to look back at her. Her arms were crossed, and it was clear she was still nervous, but what she said next took him by surprise.

“I just wanted to say ‘thank you.’ For last night. It was the best sleep I’ve gotten in a year.”

He nodded, flexing his fingers at his sides. “Anytime. I mean…” He floundered for words, his thoughts racing.

Best sleep I’ve gotten in a year too. Maybe longer.

“I know what you mean,” she replied, giving him a desperately needed out. He nodded, glad his face was mostly hidden by the mask. He turned and exited the dwelling, trying to keep himself focused on the task ahead instead of how his stomach had fluttered at the memory of her sleeping in his arms.

—

“Are you there yet?” Senna whispered into her comm as she rounded the corner near the cantina.

“Yes, I’ve been here for fifteen minutes. I’m on the east end of the bar. Easy to miss unless you’re looking for me.”

She checked her reflection in a shop window as she passed, smoothing her gown and picking at her sleeves nervously again. “And you’re sure he skipped going to the comm tower?”

It was clear Rex was trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. And doing a poor job of it. “I tailed him until he was well beyond the hub. He’s in a hurry and he definitely still has the disk with him.”

“He’s in there now?”

“Got here about five minutes after me.”

“Great,” she muttered. “Alright, radio silence from here on out.”

“Roger that.”

She clicked off her comm, placing it in her dress pocket. Suddenly, it felt like her heart was racing in the silence. She wiped her palms on her skirt, taking one last deep breath and tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.

Time to do my job. Rex’ll do his.

Senna had chosen this cantina specifically because she doubted many other Imperials would frequent it based on its reputation, and as she finally laid eyes on it, she was confident that assumption was correct. The cantina wasn’t much to look at on the outside with flickering neon and a dirty exterior, and the inside didn’t do much to impress either. Senna could smell the smoke of cheap herbs and fried food as soon as she passed through the doorway. The space was dimly lit, and some quiet jizz music was playing from a few crackling speakers in one corner. The entire room felt as though it was covered in a layer of dust, and the upholstery on the chairs and booths were all somehow different shades of green. The place might have had some sort of divey charm if her stomach hadn’t been doing flips from nerves. She noted the hooded figure at the bar that was nursing a glass of whiskey and tapping his pinky finger on the bar, the signal they’d discussed so she could identify him easily. Spotting Rex gave her some comfort, and she rolled her shoulders, letting some of the tension slip from them.

As she continued to scan the room, Senna spotted Fisk in the far corner, waving a little too enthusiastically at her. Squaring her shoulders, she plastered a smile on her face and approached him.

“Wen! It’s so good to see you again.” She allowed her hand to slip into his. He turned her this way and that, his eyes hungrily roving her figure. She had purposefully chosen a dress that accentuated her curves tastefully while providing a less than modest view of her cleavage.

Want him to think I’m interested while not throwing myself at him. Men like him enjoy a bit of a chase.

She kept her smile in place as he finally leaned forward to embrace her.

“You look stunning, Valla! Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Well, you were so persistent, how could I say no?” she laughed lightly. “Wasn’t sure you’d want to come to this place, but it’s one of my favorite little dives.”

“Nonsense,” Fisk replied. “I’ve always enjoyed perusing the local establishments, even if they are a bit run down.” He couldn’t keep all of the disgust out of his voice. “But perhaps next time, you’ll allow me to choose.”

“Only seems fair,” she replied, and he chuckled in return as he pulled out a chair for her.

“Please,” he said, gesturing at the seat. She sat down, leaning forward so the low cut of her dress was directly in his eye line. He stared gratuitously.

Well this is going to just be too easy.

“So, where’s Lon this evening?” he asked casually.

Senna did her best to stifle the smirk that was threatening to tear across her face at his very obvious fishing. “Oh, he’s out with some of his friends at their usual haunt across town. The Dust Bowl I believe it’s called?”

“Ah yes, that place.” Fisk did little to hide his distaste. “Well, I’m glad you opted to meet me here rather than join him.”

“He rarely asks me out with his friends, so I had the evening off,” she said, playing up a little bit of discontent in her voice. Rex and she had agreed that there should appear to be some marital issues that may have led her to coming here tonight, but nothing so overt that she would appear willing to climb into bed with Fisk after a single meeting. Rex had been especially adamant about that point, which Senna had teased him about mercilessly.

“Oh, well that’s too bad. If you were my wife, I’d never hesitate to show you off,” Fisk said, grinning in what she imagined was supposed to be a charming fashion. Instead, it made her skin crawl.

I’d rather be flirting with a Hutt.

“Alas,” she said, allowing a small smile to creep across her face. He let his finger graze her knuckles, and using all of her willpower, she didn’t pull her hand away as she tried to keep the conversation moving. “So, how was work today? I’m terribly sorry to have called you out of it a little earlier than usual, but I’m so very glad you could meet me.”

He grinned back at her, shifting slightly in his chair. “Oh, it was absolutely nothing, my dear. Quite the fitting end to a demanding day in the office.” A metallic flash caught her eye as he draped his arm across the back of the empty chair next to him. The decryption disk was just poking out of the inner pocket of his jacket, the chain it was held on dangling temptingly.

Kriff. I’m going to have to get closer to him, she thought, her insides revolting.

She signaled a passing waiter droid to order drinks. “Well then, why don’t you tell me all about it?”

—

Several hours and at least four cocktails later, Fisk’s guard and inhibitions were slipping. Senna could barely make out what he was saying half the time between his slurring and inconsistent volume, but she took her cues carefully, laughing when he did while also doing her best to keep his hands from wandering over her body.

He told another joke she couldn’t discern, roaring with laughter, and Senna followed his lead, choosing her moment carefully. “Oh Wen, you really are too much,” she giggled loudly, leaning closer to him and placing her hand on his chest as his arm crept around the back of her chair.

“You have no idea, my dear,” Wen slurred, downing the last of his latest drink.

Senna managed to keep her face neutral despite the hot blast of his stale breath that tickled her nose. She leaned in closer to him as his fingers clamped onto her shoulder, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder a bit as her eyes followed the metallic glint inside his jacket. She played up her intoxication, leaning closer to him and allowing a dopey grin to slide into place.

“You know, I never have this much fun with Lon. He’s such a stiff.” She pouted slightly, pursing her lips.

“You know, I’ve often wondered how you two wound up together. To be honest, it’s an odd match,” Fisk commented as he glanced around for another waiter droid, clearly hoping to refill his glass.

“Wanna know a secret?” she giggled, and he leaned in closer, placing his hand on her thigh. She fought the urge to jump away, instead putting her lips inches from his ear and casually slipping her hand in his jacket pocket. He didn’t move or tense as she slowly pulled the disk from the pocket, and just to be sure he was definitely distracted, she let her lips gently graze his ear as she whispered into it. “Between you and me, I haven’t always…been faithful to Lon.” She grinned devilishly as she withdrew her hand from his jacket, gently tucking the disk into her dress pocket. Fisk hadn’t noticed any of it, too inebriated and enraptured with the idea of Valla Cardell’s infidelity.

“Really?” The gleam in his eyes was incredibly lustful. It made her skin crawl.

She bit her lip suggestively and nodded. “When things have gotten stale, I’ve had to search out…alternatives. A woman’s got needs, you know.”

“Of course.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Tell me more,” he prodded.

“I will,” she said, leaning across the table to grab his empty glass. “As soon as I get us another round at the bar. Seems all the serving droids are occupied.” She gave him a wink.

“Tease!” he called after her as she stood, walking towards the bar.

Senna tried to steady her breathing as she made her way to the end of the bar where Rex was still sitting, quietly nursing what she assumed was the same glass of whiskey. He seemed to be gripping the glass a little tighter than normal, but she couldn’t see his face to confirm her suspicions. She rested her elbows on the counter next to him, keeping him between her and Fisk to block herself from the commander’s view. Leaning forward, she did her best to flag down the bartender, a Rodian who finally made his way towards her, flinging a towel over one shoulder.

“You need something?”

“Two more rounds for my friend and I, but make mine without liquor. I still have to walk home,” she joked.

The Rodian just grunted at her, taking their glasses to be refilled.

“Well, I thought it was funny,” she muttered, casting one more glance over her shoulder. Fisk had his back to her, staring at one of the holovids playing in the corner. It appeared to be showing some bolo-ball game, and for the moment, it was holding his attention. Keeping her eye on the Imperial, she withdrew the disk from her pocket and slid it onto Rex’s lap at her side. She felt him reach down and take it, his fingers grazing hers.

“You know, you’d better be careful or he’ll definitely get the wrong idea,” Rex growled quietly from beneath the hood.

Senna tried to ignore the heat that was creeping into her cheeks at the sound of his voice. “Oh calm down,” she teased under her breath. “I thought the plan was to give him the wrong idea.” When Rex didn’t reply, she sighed. “Look, he’s a drink or two from blacking out, and I’m not sure he’s got the sense to stop before then.”

A grunt emitted from beneath the hood, and she ignored it as the bartender came back with her drinks. “Back in a bit, so get that thing copied and be ready to hand it back,” she whispered, turning away from him to head back to Fisk.

The cantina was starting to get a little bit crowded as Senna made her way back towards the table, weaving in between the patrons and trying to keep the liquid in the glasses she was carrying from sloshing everywhere. When she finally could see the table again, her blood ran cold.

Fisk was frantically digging through his various pockets, turning them inside out and looking around near the table, clearly searching for the disk.

Kriff.

Shifting the drinks to one hand, she reached into her pocket, feeling for her comm and clicking the open channel on.

Please be listening, Rex.

“Something wrong, Wen?” she asked, approaching the table and setting the drinks down.

“Erm…yes, so…I seem to have lost…KARKING HELLS!” Fisk was becoming more frantic, his eyes beginning to bulge out of his skull in terror as a thin sheen of sweat coated his reddening face.

“Can I help you find what you’re looking for?” Senna offered, sweeping around to the same side of the table as him and resting her hand on his back.

“NO!” he snapped, flinging her off of him. “I mean…yes. I’m…so…I have a disk that I seem to have lost. It’s very important. It’s on a chain.”

“Where did you have it last?” she asked, stalling for time. She didn’t dare cast a look back over her shoulder, but she was praying Rex could hear the conversation and was hurrying to copy the disk.

“In my jacket pocket. I think. But it’s definitely not there now.” His intoxication was bleeding away as his panic grew.

“Maybe it fell on the floor?” she suggested. “Here let me help you look.”

She crouched down on the floor, keeping here eyes glued to the tile as she swept her hands around under the table. The ground was disgusting and covered in who knows what, but she was out of other ideas to stall or calm the commander. Fisk was on his hands and knees under the table next to them, barely acknowledging the patrons sitting there as they lifted their feet and complained at the intrusion.

Senna felt panic starting to grow within her own chest.

If he doesn’t find it in the next few seconds, Maker only knows what he’ll do. Demand everyone at the bar empty their pockets? Run off to go searching for it? If he’s lost it, he’ll have to report it, and then the encryptions will have to be reset, and this will have been a complete wash.

Suddenly, she felt a bump into her shoulder as a large boot stepped by.

“S’cuse me,” a deep voice grumbled as the disk clattered to the floor near her hand. Looking up, she barely registered the familiar brown eyes beneath the hood before Rex moved past her towards her towards the cantina’s exit. Glancing over, she saw Fisk was beginning to get into a heated altercation with the humanoids at the table that he was currently under, so she quickly slid the disk across the floor to near where his chair was.

“Wen! Is that it?” she asked, pointing excitedly at the disk beneath his chair.

Relief washed over the Imperial’s face as he scrambled back towards their table, snatching the disk eagerly off of the floor and inspecting it for damage. She stood and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well, is that what you were looking for?”

“Yes,” he breathed, pushing his hair back from his face. “Thank the Maker, it is.”

As she pulled him to his feet, they were approached by the Rodian from behind the bar.

“I’m afraid I must ask you to leave. You’ve disturbed my other patrons,” the bartender stated gruffly, his arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. The humanoids that were sitting at the table behind them stood leering over his shoulder. Fisk started to argue, but Senna had had enough and was more than happy to take the out. Placing a hand on his chest, she whispered, “It’s fine, Wen. Really. I was starting to get tired anyway.”

She downed her drink as Wen puffed his chest at the Rodian and the other patrons while settling the tab, making quiet threats about his importance to the Empire until she gently took his arm and pulled him towards the door. Out in the cool night air, she took a deep breath of relief. They’d pulled it off. Even with the minor hiccup, Rex had a copy of the disk, and Fisk was none the wiser.

The Imperial was still grumbling behind her.

“How dare they insult me in such a fashion! They’ll be hearing from my superiors for their treatment of an Imperial officer and-” He was cut off as she placed a hand on his face.

“Commander Fisk, thank you for a lovely evening. I’m glad all’s well that ends well.” She smiled at him.

“Well, we could…go somewhere else,” he clumsily offered.

Not on your life, pal.

“Not tonight I’m afraid. I really must be getting home. Lon will be home soon, and I should make sure he’s had something to eat. Perhaps another time.”

“Well…alright then.” Fisk leaned in for a kiss aggressively, grabbing her by the waist, and Senna managed to just turn her head so it landed on her cheek, her fists clenched at her side until he released her.

“Always the gentleman,” she laughed, patting his shoulder, and slipping out of his grasp. She did her best to keep her pace unhurried as she turned and started walking back towards their dwelling.

She waited several blocks to make sure she wasn’t being tailed before digging her comm out of her pocket. “You there?”

“Yes,” came the deep grumble from directly behind her, making her jump.

Composing herself, she stared at Rex with a hint of a glower. “We were supposed to meet at home. What if he’d tailed me?”

“He didn’t. I followed him for a bit after you left the cantina. I saw that kiss by the way.”

Senna felt her face flush with heat as Rex’s eyes bored into her. She shrugged, crossing her arms. “I’d hardly call that a kiss so much as an assault on my face,” she grumbled. “Why? Are you jealous?”

He grunted at her again, bumping her with his shoulder as he stepped past her and continued walking. She rolled her eyes before falling into step beside him. They walked in silence for several minutes.

“Was it nice at least?” he asked, breaking the awkwardness.

“The kiss?” Senna asked incredulously. “Of course not. It wasn’t something I wanted at all. I just did what I had to do to keep him from being suspicious, but honestly I’d like to go home and take the longest shower of my life.” She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to forget the feeling of his fingers on her skin.

She didn’t miss the slight smile that turned up the corners of Rex’s mouth at her open disdain for Fisk. She nudged him with her shoulder.

“At least now I’m pretty sure my nightmares won’t be about Order 66 tonight. They’ll most definitely be about his clammy Hutt hands,” she joked. “Did you get it copied? No issues?”

Rex pulled the disk copy from under his cloak, handing it to her. “Took a few minutes just like you said, but I think it should be just what we need.”

She turned the disk over delicately in her hands as she smirked. “I certainly hope so. Wouldn’t want my sacrifice to be for nothing.”

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @obihiddlenox @meekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @sleepingsun501 @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69

#karrde writes #in command #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #captain rex #OC Senna Aven #captain rex x ofc #captain rex x oc #captain rex x original female character #slow burn #post order 66 #friends to lovers

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pokegeek151 · 7 months

Text

Four Swords Fright Fight - Werewolves

I wrote this at work and didn't edit it. Have fun!

They found Princess Zelda in the woods ten miles from the castle. Her night dress was torn almost to shreds, and her hair was matted with dirt and sweat. She was dazed and confused, but seemed otherwise safe. She had to cover her eyes from the glare of the morning sun glinting off the soldiers’ armor, and no one could see any broken skin or even bruising. As they escorted her back to the castle, a soldier ended up having to carry her most of the way because her shoes were nowhere to be found.

Once at the castle, she was immediately pulled into a hug the moment her feet touched the ground.

“Thank goodness you’re safe,” Green said. He didn’t take his hands off her, but he did hold her at arm’s length so he could look her over. “The messenger said you weren’t hurt at all, but I have to make sure.”

“I’m fine,” Zelda said. She sounded a bit tired, but nothing unfamiliar from her late night work sessions.

“It’s a miracle that awful thing didn’t hurt you.”

Zelda’s gaze fell, unable to look Green in the eye.

His face darkened. “It didn’t hurt you, right?”

“I’m fine,” she said again.

Green opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by one of the doors behind them slamming open.

Red ran up and pulled into a hug of his own. “Zelda! I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Vio followed at a more sedate pace, a pair of her soft slippers in his hands which passed over without a word once Red released her.

“We had to practically tie Green to his chair to stop him from going after you,” Blue said.

“I still think we could have helped with the search,” Green said, rocking back and forth on his toes as he waited for Red to let go so he could hold onto Zelda again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Zelda said, reaching for Green’s hand. “I’d rather come home to you. It could be hours before all the search parties are back, I’m sure.”

“That’s what I told him,” Vio chimed in.

Blue clapped his hands together. “Now that you’re safe and sound, we can focus on planning the hunt. That beast won’t hurt anyone else.”

“There’s no need for that,” Zelda said.

“You’re not the only one that thing has hurt,” Green said.

“She didn’t hurt me,” she mumbled.

“She?” Vio asked at the same time Green said, “But it could have.”

“But she didn’t. And if you talk to all the other witnesses, they’ll tell you the same. The wolf hasn’t hurt any of Hyrule’s citizens.”

“Zelda-“

“Just…don’t start the hunt yet. There’s plenty of time, isn’t there? The attacks only happen once a month.”

“We should be proactive, not reactive.”

“I will make it an order if I have to,” Zelda said, her voice firmer than she felt. She met Green’s eyes this time. “We are not hunting her.”

“Zelda-”

“I’m going up to my rooms to change and rest. I’ve had a long night, and I will not want to be disturbed.” She held her regal posture for a moment longer, then let herself soften. “We’ll talk more, Green. I promise. All I ask is patience.”

For a heartbeat, Green looked like he might disobey. But he finally settled on a watery smile, and he took her hands delicately in his. “Of course. Get some rest. Would like me to walk you to your room?”

“That would be nice,” she whispered, finally letting the shake enter her voice.

#fsff23 #w1 23 werewolves #last minute entry for team werewolf let's go #latte writes things #i like the idea but i didn't have the time to execute properly #so i might rewrite it at some point #make a proper Thing you know?#four swords #four swords adventures #fsa

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all-the-things-2020 · 3 months

Text

Further Along the Way - Chapter Twelve

Summary: The aftermath of the cadets’ mission.

Rating: PG

Din woke in the morning feeling hollow. For a long moment, he contemplated calling in sick, but shoved the thought away. He rolled over and thumbed off the alarm on the bedside table so it wouldn’t wake up Mariana. She was sleeping peacefully, her hair spread out across the pillows, her lips slightly parted. No need for her to face the day before she had to.

He slipped out of bed and took his clothes into the ‘fresher to get dressed. He had no appetite but made a cup of kaf, which he sipped at half-heartedly. His data pad still lay on the side table next to the couch, but he was reluctant to pick it up, knowing there would be several messages from the Colonel regarding the day to come.

Finally, he could put it off no longer, and as he tossed the remains of his kaf into the sink and rinsed the cup out, he heard Mariana come out of the bedroom. “Go back to bed, cyar’ika,” he said dully.

“I wanted to see you before you go,” she replied. She looked half asleep as she walked toward him, her bare feet padding across the floor.

“I’ll be okay,” he insisted, picking up the data pad. She cocked her head and gave him what he had come to think of as “the look.” He sighed; he couldn’t fool her.

“It’s going to be a tough day,” she said. “I’ll have my data pad handy; comm me if you need anything. Promise?”

“I promise,” he said, lowering his forehead to hers. “I’d better head out. I’m sure the Colonel will have a briefing before classes begin.”

*********************************

“How are you doing?” Braxden asked the moment Din stepped into his office.

“As well as can be expected,” Din admitted. He still felt hollow, as if he was experiencing everything at one remove from reality. It was almost like being back in his armor, shielded from the world, and while it was comforting in a way, he didn’t like it. He’d grown used to being fully present, a part of other people’s lives.

The Colonel sighed deeply. “We’re all feeling the pain,” he said. “If you need a day or two …”

Din shook his head. “No, the students need me here,” he said firmly. “They knew Corporal Fennic better than they know me; this is going to be hard on them.”

“Rumors have been swirling around campus, but I’m going to call an assembly during first period so they’ll have the correct information,” Braxden said. “I’ll have a counselor in your classroom all day in case any of the cadets have any issues.”

Din nodded. “That’s a good idea, sir. Thank you.”

Braxden clapped a hand on Din’s shoulder. “And in case you need it, too,” he said. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help, Djarin. You lost five students, and your assistant. This is hardest on you.”

Din brushed it off. “Don’t worry about me, Colonel. I’ll be fine.” For the second time that day, Din was on the receiving end of “the look.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Braxden said.

“All right, I’m not fine,” Din admitted. “But I will be. I have to be.”

******************************

Din stood at the back of his classroom as the first period cadets streamed in quietly. Usually, these first year cadets were laughing and chatting as they arrived, but today the mood was somber.

“Is it true?” Sindet Horexta asked, her pale blue eyes rimmed with red. She was one of the local students, thin and always one of the weakest fighters, but with a heart of gold.

Din nodded, and her eyes welled with tears. “The Colonel will tell you everything at the assembly,” he said carefully. “But yes, Sindet, it’s true. Corporal Fennic and several of the cadets were killed in the attack on the embassy.”

All of the cadets looked solemnly at him, but no one said another word. They waited until the final bell rang, and an announcement came over the PA. “All students and staff please report to the auditorium for assembly.”

Din led his students to the auditorium, where they filed quietly into their seats. He stood at the end of the aisle, avoiding eye contact with the other staff members for fear he’d lose composure if he was confronted with any sort of sympathy. Sergeant Honnal brushed her hand against his elbow as she led her students to their assigned area, and he darted a quick look at her. She looked sober, and he realized her gesture was one of solidarity, not a sexual overture.

Braxden stepped up to the podium and tapped once on the microphone. The entire auditorium fell silent. “As I am sure you are all aware,” he began somberly, “the cadet squadron assigned to guard the embassy on Vrentos was involved in a terrorist attack. Vrentosian separatists who disapprove of their government’s alliance with Thantos bombed the entrance and infiltrated the building. Our ambassador and her staff were evacuated safely, and most of the terrorists were captured or killed, but the squadron suffered several casualties.” He paused to clear his throat. “Corporal Jamison Fennic, Cadet Lormand Anzitor, Cadet Nandoo Bendar, Cadet Hoven Limante, Cadet Kalen Robbins, and Cadet Helix Shandilon lost their lives.”

Sobs broke out amongst the students and the Colonel paused for a moment to allow them to recover before he went on. “Cadets Fangor Donden, Pando Florenz, Brix Lovari, Vintex Marddanda, Prig Pexar, Corton Trimble, and Klaarmat X’intari were severely wounded and will remain aboard the medical ship until they can be released. The rest of the squadron will be returning to campus tomorrow.” He looked out over the auditorium, his face impassive. “They will be debriefed by me and my staff before returning to their regular schedules. I understand that many of you are curious about what happened, but please remember that some of your fellow cadets may not want to talk about it. Keep this in mind as you interact with them over the coming days. I ask that we all pause for a moment of silence to remember the sacrifice of those who have fallen.”

The students and civilian staff all bowed their heads, but Braxden and the rest of the military officers all stood at attention, staring straight ahead. Din recognized it as a gesture of respect to their lost comrades and kept his own head up in solidarity, even though all he wanted to do was hang his head in grief. He’d indulged in that last night, but now he knew he needed to stay strong for the remaining cadets.

“Dismissed,” the Colonel said simply when the moment was over. As one, the students rose to their feet and began to file out of the auditorium.

********************************

By the end of the day, Din had a raging headache but he’d managed to get through the day with only two students breaking down, which he counted as a small victory. He hadn’t asked much of them today, letting the ones who wanted to talk sit in the corner with the counselor, while he led the others through some simple but strenuous physical exercises. Lots of punching and kicking the sand bags, but no hand to hand.

He walked home slowly. He desperately wanted to see Ad’ika and Mariana, but he was worn out.

“Da!” Ad’ika cried the moment he opened the door. He scooped the child up into his arms and hugged him close.

“Hey, kiddo, did you miss me?”

Ad’ika nodded and patted Din’s face. “Kotep,” he said. Brave.

Din nodded back. “Yes, ad, I’m trying to be. Where’s Momma?”

Ad’ika pointed toward the ‘fresher door, which opened a moment later. “Hey,” she said. “How’d it go?”

“Well enough,” Din said. “If you don’t mind, can we not talk about it right now? I need to get my mind off it. Tell me about your visit to the midwife yesterday.”

They settled on the couch with Ad’ika tucked between them. Mariana went over the information Valinda had given her. “She wants to know if you’re planning to be there for the birth. If so, you’ll need to come to a few appointments so you can learn what to do.”

Din relaxed into the couch. “Of course,” he said. Now that he was home, he could feel his muscles loosening and his headache easing off. Ad’ika was playing with his fingers and Mariana was running her hand through his hair. “Just make the appointments late enough I can get there after work.” He sighed. “I won’t be doing my tutorial anymore, at least.”

Mariana rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t,” she said softly.

“I’m okay,” he said, sliding Ad’ika into his lap and dropping his head onto her shoulder. “Just … keep telling me about the baby.”

****************************

Din walked into the lecture hall. Colonel Braxden had asked him to be present for the debriefing even though he wasn’t military personnel. Several parents were also in attendance, including Shandilon’s, who sat front and center, the mother ostentatiously weeping into a handkerchief while the father scowled at everyone who entered the room.

“You!” Mr. Shandilon growled, pointing at Din as soon as he entered.

Braxden hurried to put himself between them. “Now, Mr. Shandilon …”

“No, Braxden. My son is dead and this … this man,” Shandilon spat, “refused to fulfill his obligation to the Academy and to my poor Helix.”

Braxden held up his hand. “That’s not true, and you know it. Mr. Djarin has done nothing wrong. I’ve told you several times …”

“He cares more about that creature he calls a child than he did about my Helix,” Mrs. Shandilon shrilled. “I don’t know why you hired him in the first place.” For someone supposedly sunken in grief, her eyes were not that red and her makeup was flawless. “Helix told me how he gave extra help to that Bendaski,” — she spat the word as if it tasted bad — “but didn’t offer any to him.” She glared at Din. “Some people don’t know how to take care of their own kind.”

“That’s enough,” Braxden said firmly. “Cadet X’intari was offered extra help because he had a poor grade in the class, and Mr. Djarin offered the same help to several other students … all of them human. Now I expect you both to sit quietly during the debriefing and if you have any issues, you can bring them up to me privately later on, all right?”

The Shandilon’s huffed, but sat back in their seats, arms folded. Braxden steered Din toward a seat. “Sorry about them,” he muttered. “Ignore them. I’ll handle it.”

As Din sat down, Glenna Laren approached him. “Mr. Djarin,” she said quietly. “I heard Helix’ parents, and I just wanted to tell you, don’t listen to them. They’re full of shit.” Not that long ago, Glenna hadn’t been able to look at him without blushing, but now she stood confidently in front of him and looked him in the eye. “Helix was an asshole and it’s his own fault he’s dead, and his fault some of the others got hurt. I’m going to tell the Colonel that and I don’t care what his parents say.” She straightened her shoulders. “Klaarmat and Pando … they would have been fine if they hadn’t had to try to save Helix and Hoven’s sorry asses.” Her voice hitched but she continued. “And Nandoo … she went back in to get the ambassador’s secretary out. You would have been so proud of her, sir.”

Din laid a hand on her shoulder. “I am proud of her, of all of you,” he said. “I only wish I’d been there …”

“No, sir,” she interrupted. “All of us agreed we were glad you weren’t there. If was bad enough losing Corporal Fennic, but if anything had happened to you …,” she shook her head, “none of us wanted to have to tell your wife you weren’t coming back.” There were tears in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. “You made the right choice, sir. And if anyone says different, they’ll have Cadet Squadron Beta to answer to.”

She saluted him and returned to her seat with the rest of the cadets as Braxden called the debriefing to order. Din surreptitiously wiped a tear from his own eye as he sat back to listen. They’re going to be okay, he thought. Thank the stars, they’re going to be okay.

#the mandalorian #star wars #grogu #baby yoda #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x original female character #din djarin fanfiction

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wives-natlho · 6 months

Text

Training Day

CW: Death, Gore, Violence

It was a slightly cloudy day at the Scorpion Crossing in Thanalan. Athena had taken Jaye out for training. Something…she had very mixed feelings on. You'd think the warrior would be excited to help her girlfriend train, however it was because she was a warrior that it made her nervous.

One out of four warrior trainees don't make it through the process alive.

Those who fail, succumb to the inner beast and become something even less than a roaming animal. As she had gotten older, Athena had learned some hard truths. What she experienced with the warriors happened regularly. People lost themselves to inner beasts all the time, but it just took different shapes and forms and was normally a longer process.

Revenge, despair, fear, the list goes on. However, it always seemed to start from the same place. They always said similar things and acted in similar ways.

And Jaye was doing the same things

She only agreed to the training because she was hopeful after their last talk but also because she knew Jaye would just run off and do something stupid if Athena said the Veena wasn't ready. At least this way maybe she can guide her away from a destructive path.

The session started out well. Jaye had shown up in full armor for training which…was horribly adorable but Athena had to keep her reaction in check. She was the kind of teacher that let you figure out your own mistakes if it didn’t hurt you too bad. After a few hours of heavy training Jaye picked up that heavy armor wasn’t very useful while training and could actually get in the way so she ended up working out in her under shirt and pants.

Thanks to the soul crystal they breezed along. Jaye had gotten down her form quickly and they were already working on stamina. Athena had praised her for how well she was doing, but the impatience she had seen in the Veena’s stance finally crept out in full force. "If this is going so well why do I feel like a gaelicat could knock me over? When will I become strong?"

Athena's heart plummeted. She stared out at the landscape in front of her. When she finally calmed her nerves enough to turn to face Jaye, she had to blink a few times.What she saw almost sent her into a panic.

Standing beside Jaye was a teenage boy. A Hyur who would have been around the age of 18. Dark hair, casual clothing for combat, and a big goofy smile…but it was tainted by the red glow of his eyes.

She knew the boy wasn't really there. He was dead after all. Had been for some time now. It had been a few weeks since she last saw him.

Rothe Miller

He had wanted to prove himself to the world. He said he wanted to do great things in the name of his family. What he didn't tell anyone, was that he harbored revenge in his heart against the bandits who killed his sister.

Athena was tasked to be a mentor to the boy. Not a teacher, she was still training herself, but someone to guide him.

She failed.

She didn't know the signs yet. But to her, it didn't matter. It was her job to keep him safe, especially from himself. That's why they paired people up during training. It increased the chance of success.

But she failed.

She walked out of her tent one night to the sounds of rhythmic chopping. It was Rothe training with a real axe on a training dummy. His eyes were glowing…but that can't be right. It wasn't time for him to learn that technique yet. When she approached he stopped moving for a bit and suddenly he was his happy carefree self again, claiming he just wanted some extra practice. She chided him for working so hard, but that was it. She should have gone to the trainers about it. But she doubted her senses and her instincts.

A few months later they were sent on a training mission to escort some caravan of merchants. Not long into the trip they were ambushed by highwaymen. Rothe went into a rage the likes Athena had never seen. He tore the men apart limb by limb. At one point his axe got knocked from his hand, he never picked it up again. He snarled and yelled incoherently. She would later surmise it was his sister's name he was screaming. When he was finished with the bandits he turned his gaze to one of the people they were supposed to protect.

She yelled and pleaded for Rothe to snap out of it, but nothing worked. Tears started to stream from her face, as she did the only thing she knew to do. She clasped her axe to her back and jumped between the beast and the merchant as she unleashed her own rage.

The battle went on for hours. She tried so hard to knock him out. Sometimes someone can recover if they were made unconscious fast enough, but she couldn't overpower him. Most of the battle was spent with her running and keeping him distracted so as to not harm others. Eventually it happened, he collapsed. When a trained warrior goes into a rage, they can funnel the fury in a way to be beneficial to their body, however when someone succumbs it often means their body is put under great stress and eventually breaks down and collapses from the energy.

Athena walked up the creature that was once Rothe. Even now it was trying to get up to continue the chase, but its body just couldn't do it. "Please….please don't make me do this" she pleaded with the pitiful creature in front of her, but it just looked at her with burning eyes.

She grabbed her axe and turned it upside down and held it by the hilt near the axe blades. This was the only chance that he might come back. She brought down the pummel of her axe hard on his head, hoping it was the right amount of force to just knock him out.

The fire burned out from his eyes…but so did life. He couldn't take a hit like that with the rest of the damage his body had taken. Before he passed she heard a weak "I'm sorry" before he laid motionless.

Just like that Rothe was gone.

She fell to her knees as she let loose a yell to the heavens. She sat there and allowed herself to cry and mourn for a while. How long she couldn't tell you. Eventually Athena knew she had to continue, this wasn't the safest of spaces and the merchants were basically disorganized and confused. It helped that she was starting to dissociate as well. She picked up Rothe’s lifeless body and carried it back to the caravan. He was buried with honors and Athena visits his grave every year in secret. She never really tells anyone about this particular event in her life. She feels horrible guilt but it wasn’t like she was trying to hide it. It just wasn’t exactly something she liked to talk about.

However as the years went on something particular would happen. She would see the boy's spirit when someone was about to make a mistake. When someone was set up to head down a bad path. She has no idea if it’s legitimately Rothe’s spirit or just her mind conceptualizing all the inputs her brain receives to tell her that the pattern was happening again, but it honestly didn’t matter. She learned a while ago to always take his appearance as the giant caution sign it was. The last time it happened he was hanging on Einar’s shoulder during their meeting in the shroud.

That…really wasn’t a good night for her.

Now here he was standing next to her girlfriend.

She was running out of time.

“Did…I say something wrong?”

Athena sighs, it was going to be hard to explain this in a way that made sense.

“Did you give any more thought into the question I asked you?”

She gave a non committal answer. Athena tries to explain herself, Jaye would answer in a dodgy way, this continues for a bit till Athena has an idea.

“Why did you attack that wolf when you first got your soul crystal?”

Jaye pauses and says how she was minding her own business when it suddenly attacked her for no reason.

Of course when Athena pressures her the story falls apart. It was obvious she attacked that wolf because she suddenly felt powerful. It’s pretty common, honestly. Someone who spent their entire life being a victim suddenly has the power to be the one pushing others around. That kind of shift in power is intoxicating.

Athena grabs her axe and walks over to the training dummy they had been using. She thinks about all her pain and frustration and unleashes her beast at full power. She looks over to Jade as the red orange aura ruffles her clothes as if the wind had picked up, her eyes glowing that beastly hue. When she is satisfied that she is being watched she turns to the training dummy in front of her, jumps up into the air and spins as she brings her axe down hard, cutting through the training dummy and leaving an indent in the earth.

She clips her axe to her back and looks over to her shocked girlfriend. “You know I have the power to kill a lot more than wolves, but I don’t, cause I know what I fight for and ironically I wouldn’t have the power I do if I didn’t.”

Athena watches Jaye as she calms down a little and walks over to a nearby rock formation to sit by. She follows and sits near her. She glances and sees Rothe also sitting on the rocks. Eventually Jaye begins to speak. “Look I know I fucked up”

“Why did you fuck up?”

“ Ikkobach treated me like how I treated the wolf.”

There is a pause as Jaye grabs her knees to her chest, Athena sat to the side quietly, it felt like something was shifting. Eventually Jaye spoke up, “I want to kill my dad. I know how bad that sounds but I need to be ready.”

Athena sighs, which she realized seemed to have become a trademark of hers lately. “I don’t think it’s bad you want to kill your dad, I mean I want to kill the bastard and he’s not even my dad.” She pauses trying to find the words she needs. “One in four warriors don’t make it past training.” She notices Jaye’s shocked expression out of the corner of her eyes. “Actually, it used to be one in four, the success rate has been going up lately with new tactics and safeguards. But when I was training, it was very common for someone to lose themselves to their beast.”

She turned to face Jaye “It's okay to want to be strong, but you need something to anchor you or you’ll lose yourself too and….I don’t want to lose you. Not like that…never like that.”

“But i’m not a warrior”

“You don’t have to be, people lose themselves to their emotions all the time, it’s just not as blatant in other cases. All the results are the same, it ends in the ruin of the person and either their own actions kill them, or other people are forced to do it.” She looks away again at the last bit.

“Is that what happens to the warriors who lose themselves?” Athena nods. “Yes, it’s a fate worse than death, which normally follows soon after anyways.” There is another pause between the two.

Finally Jaye speaks up again, “I don’t want to seek him out or anything like that. I just want to be ready if I ever see him again, even if that is unlikely.” She reaches over and grabs Athena’s hand “and….I want to be able to help you guys when you need it. It’s just that seems so unlikely “

Athena looks over and studies Jaye’s face, something changed. She furrows her brows and glances to the rock behind them. He’s gone.

A weight leaves her shoulders she didn’t even know she was carrying. She smiles and she starts to tear up despite trying not to. She rubs her hand through her hair as she stands up trying to be discreet. “That’s good! That’s good… sorry got some dust in my eye from all the stupid sand everywhere”. She couldn’t see but Jaye was a little shocked at first, but slowly relaxed into a soft smile.

Athena abruptly walks over to where they had left their stuff from earlier. “Anyway, I think we’ve accomplished most of what we can do today before you build up more of your stamina, want to head back?”

She watches as Jaye stands and walks over to the other training dummy. “You go ahead, I want to train a little bit more.” She turns around and winks “Coco didn’t want me to tell you but she made some apple turnovers as a surprise for our training session, save me one okay?”

The tension starts to creep back into Athena’s shoulder, but as she examines Jaye she notices her demeanor has shifted. The urgency that was there before was gone. If she dared to say, Jaye almost seemed more confident in herself. Athena smiles and says “Okay.”

She walks back to Ul’dah and doesn’t look back.

#ffxiv #ffxiv roleplay #ff14 #ffxiv oc #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv rp #jaye devale #fanfiction #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fanfic #oc fic #Athena Natlho

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bragganhyl · 11 months

Note

i really want to kiss you right now for the smut prompts!

Yay, thanks Ella 💖 here is uhh 5k words 😅 of Edér and Gaura getting nasty with each other

sooo... yeah be warned for graphic description of them having sex under the cut, don't click on the readmore if you don't want to read it and if you still manage to do that, you have about 2k words of preamble so you have time to click away before anything steamy happens

but if you do want to read it then I hope you have fun with it 😁

‘Apologies, Watcher, this will take longer than I initially thought,’ Zamar glanced up at Gaura, but his eyes didn’t carry the same sense of guilt that his words implied. The Defiant was visible behind him, its hull half-stripped away and in some spots, replaced with a darker, more durable material. ‘I can’t say I have ever worked with blackwood before, I’m trying to make sure you leave with a hull that was better than what you had coming in.’

‘You’re attitude is admirable,’ the Watcher replied, not only commenting on the shipwright’s conviction towards his client, but the gleam in his eyes, betraying how much relished the opportunity to work with the unique material she brought him. ‘So how much longer are we talking about here?’

‘About 2 or 3 more days,’ Zamar stroke his beard as he eyed the ship. ‘No additional charges,’ his lips curled to the faintest and most fleeting smirk Gaura has ever seen.

‘Alright, I’m sure the crew won’t mind a longer shore leave,’ she glanced at The Defiant again and sighed when she glimpsed the setting sun behind it. ‘I sure don’t.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ he gave a curt nod. ‘I’ll get back to it, if you don’t mind.’

‘Of course, thanks for letting me steal a minute of your time,’ Gaura said goodbye with a smile, that faded as soon as she turned away.

Edér was waiting for her a few steps behind her. Her heart sank as she watched him in the slowly fading sunlight, smoking, waiting, a tender half-smile still tugging at his lips.

The Watcher was meant to spend that day on him, and with him. However, once rumor spread about The Defiant being equipped with a new hull – which meant that her crew was going to be stuck ashore for the next few days – it seemed that everyone who could ask the Watcher for help in the city, showed up to do so. Running a few errands didn’t seem like something that would have taken long and the treks from one side of Neketaka to the other seemed like they could also serve as romantic strolls. But what seemed one thing looked really different in the light of the setting sun.

‘Gods, I am so sorry,’ Gaura closed the distance between her and the farmer and wrapped her arms around him. ‘I thought I’d be quicker handling these things.’ She lightly butted her head against Edér’s armored chest.

‘Hey, don’t be like that,’ he hugged back, squeezing her for a moment, as if her bad mood was something he could expel from her physically. ‘You heard Zamar, we got a few more days than planned. Could just take a rain check now and… I don’t know, we could go out tomorrow?’

‘I’m spending tomorrow with Aloth.’

‘Right, I forgot,’ he let out a quiet sigh as he thought, ‘the day after tomorrow?’

‘I’ll be meeting with Flaune. And after that with Onekaza.’

Edér was silent for a moment. His jaw felt tense and he didn’t notice he tightened his embrace. ‘Right.’ His sigh sounded heavier now. Gaura pulled away just far enough to look up at him.

‘I’ll be free the day after that,’ she flashed an encouraging smile at him. ‘And the day after that.’ She lightly cupped his face.

The veteran squinted at her, pretending to ponder her offer, but he never had the patience to deal with facade, not even with his own. ‘Can I have both days?’ The question would have sounded like a joke if his touch didn’t betray his reluctance to be apart from her.

‘Now you’re just getting greedy.’

‘Nah,’ he let go of her, ‘one day for you and me,’ he began as he peeled her hand from his face and took it into his, ‘one day for you, me and Aloth. What do you say?’

‘Hmm,’ now it was Gaura’s turn to feign disinterest, ‘I am going to counter that offer with… one and a half of those days,’ she ran a finger along the metal scales protecting Edér’s torso, ‘and on top of that, the last day of the shore leave and whatever is left of tonight.’

Edér chuckled. ‘Yeah, I was hoping we’d do more than just climb a mountain.’

‘Good, let me buy you a drink,’ Gaura said as she took the first step towards the Wild Mare, pulling the farmer along.

The two of them passed by massive braziers being lit, and shopkeepers putting away their wares for the night. The bustle of Queen’s Berth didn’t die down with the daylight, it merely shifted. The district felt distinctly less bureaucratic and business-like in the evening. The last remnant of the day was Ivorr the Bright, saying the last prayer before the sun set fully – a goodbye to the light of his god.

‘Thine hands, whose grip pulls me out of darkness. Thine ears-’

Gaura felt a tremor in Edér’s hand. When she looked to him, he merely smiled at her and pulled her close with a single tug. He lifted a finger to his lips.

‘Thine heart, bright as the dawn, giving me warmth when I’m raw.’

Edér winked at her at that line. The Watcher turned away, failing to stifle a fond but nervous chuckle. Often, she would find herself grateful that she couldn’t truly blush. In that moment, she cursed her hair for betraying her fluster at his incidental but no less reverent confession. His adoring laugh coming from behind her didn’t help matters, nor did his thumb lightly caressing her hand as they made their way to the Wild Mare.

They were lucky. The tavern wasn’t quite yet full and so the two of them could find a free table for two in a dimly lit corner. It had an awkward vantage point: the stage was only partially visible and the bar seemed to have been obscured entirely there, but Edér didn’t seem to mind, in fact he eyed the one thing fully, and clearly visible from there with a mischievous grin – the stairway leading to the upper floor. The Watcher was also glad they could find a spot that offered the illusion of privacy in the crowd, and she wasn’t exactly in the mood to hunt for another table. She just about gestured to Edér to offer a seat, when he spoke up.

‘Why don’t you stay here while I grab us something to drink?’

Gaura chuckled at him making the same offer she intended to make. ‘I’m supposed to be the one apologizing to you,’ she reminded him, patting him on the chest. ‘I’ll go get it.’

The farmer, however, grabbed her wrist just as she was about to move past him.

‘You’ll get your chance, don’t worry,’ he left a kiss on her knuckles. When the Watcher opened her mouth to retort, he left another on her palm and he pulled her close. His free hand traveled down her back, gently, comfortingly. ‘Just had an idea, that’s all,’ he explained with a shrug.

‘Uh-oh.’

‘You’ll like it, I promise,’ he kissed her on the cheek. ‘And if you don’t, then we’ll be even,’ he joked, earning a light punch in the shoulder.

Gaura squinted at him. Whatever Edér had on his mind, all he could read from his face was that fond half-smile of his that she saw by the shipyard. It didn’t feel right not to indulge him after the patience he’s displayed for the whole day.

‘Alright.’

Edér’s smile widened as he left her by the table. The Watcher sat down for the first time that day, and she suddenly became very aware of the muscles in her legs. She stretched as she sat, trying to fight the dull, burning sensation in her limbs, wondering if she could maybe convince the farmer to spend a little more time in the tavern before they went on to climb to Periki’s Overlook where they rented a room. But then she remembered that it was exactly what she’s been asking him all day long – just a little more time. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she sighed. She only vaguely heard Edér approach in the growing crowd. She straightened her back and reached out to take her pint once he got within reach. Edér pulled his chair close to her, close enough that as he sat down, his thigh brushed against hers lightly, but just firmly enough for her to feel… intent behind the touch. Maybe even need. He took out a small vial and drank its contents, grimacing, and then washed it down with a large gulp of ale.

‘Not so fast,’ Gaura grabbed his wrist for a moment, ‘you don’t know how the ale would affect the potion’s magic.’

Edér raised an eyebrow. He looked into his cup, then at the Watcher’s hair. He put down the ale and reached for the curve of Gaura’s neck. He caressed her with his knuckles and her flames harmlessly caressed him back.

‘Seems to be working fine,’ he said as his lips curled to a smirk. His hand on her slid down to her collarbone, to her chest, to her belly. He then guided it to her waist as he leaned in to leave a kiss under the Watcher’s jaw. Then another and another. Each more intense than the previous one. Gaura tensed up in surprise. Her gaze darted to different points in the room, looking at one person or another, but it was difficult to focus on anyone but Edér and the gentle touches of his mouth that got her heart fluttering for him.

‘Edér, we’re in public,’ she chuckled awkwardly.

He paused. Time seemed to have frozen for a short while. ‘Yeah…’ the farmer sighed resignedly and pulled away, ‘sorry, Honeycake.’ He reached into his pockets again. ‘I suppose we really oughtta keep this kinda thing upstairs,’ he said as he placed a simple, tagged key on the table.

Gaura blinked at the key while Edér took another sip of his drink, snickering into the cup. The thought of the two of them having some time truly alone got her biting her lip. Relief slowly spread in her chest and washed over her limbs. An involuntary laugh bubbled up from her. Sometimes she forgot how well he knew her, how observant he was and how easily he could lift her spirits. Although that might have said more about her than him, she mused.

‘Is this why you insisted on getting these drinks?’ She couldn’t hide her grin.

The farmer nodded as he swallowed. He kept his gaze fixed on her, his joy and adoration was blatantly apparent in his eyes.

‘You know, you could have just asked, I could’ve handled it for you,’ the Watcher shrugged and picked up her cup, her fingers lightly brushing against the key. She lifted it to her lips, trying to stifle her carefree and excited giggle.

‘Wouldn’t have been much of a surprise then,’ Edér was about to reach for the back of Gaura’s head, but she lifted a finger, urging him to wait while she downed her pint. The farmer laughed at her impatience and at the feeling of her leg brushing against his.

She slammed her cup on the table and grabbed the key once she finished. ‘You couldn’t even keep that surprise to yourself for a minute,’ she teased him, her free hand lightly rubbing his thigh. There was a faint hum hiding in Edér’s laugh as he leaned close.

‘Been watching you all day, dealing with all sorts of things, doing all that talking,’ he reached below her chin and let a thumb linger by the corner of her lips, ‘and looking really really pretty doing all that.’ His gaze stayed on those lips for a few excruciatingly long moments. ‘You’re gonna have to forgive me but… I’m running out of patience.’

‘Good,’ Gaura said breathlessly, ‘I really want to kiss you too. Right no-’

Her last word was interrupted by Edér crashing into her. Gaura could feel his kiss in her teeth and she had to fight with every fiber of her being against an urge to climb on his lap then and there, to claim the thigh brushing against her for her own pleasure. The fingers lingering on his knee moved upwards and the farmer lightly groaned into their contact. The Watcher felt the flames on the back of her neck flutter at the sound and with a last ditch effort she forced herself away from him.

‘Finish your drink,’ she stood up and took a few steps towards the stairway leading to the brothel level of the Wild Mare. She took a quick glance at the key in her hand, trying to read the tag while she walked when she felt a familiar presence by her side.

‘That ale wasn’t all that good,’ Edér hooked his arm in hers and leaned to her ear, ‘and it ain’t the taste I want.’

Gaura sped up her steps hearing that. The two of them hurried upstairs and the people working and lingering there, and made their way straight to the room that the key belonged to. The Watcher opened the door and let Edér in. She stepped in after him, laughing in excitement, hastily locking the door, trying to ignore the hands on her hips and the breath on her ear.

And then the lock clicked.

The Watcher was pressed hard against the door. The only thing separating her from it was the hand traveling up her chest while another pulled her hip close to Edér’s lap. A sloppy kiss landed behind her earlobe. Another a little lower. Gaura reached behind, over her shoulder, her fingers found those soft, straw colored strands and gave them the gentlest tug. They were both already panting, maybe they shouldn’t have rushed up those stairs, she mused, impishly grinning at herself as she guided the hand on her hip forward, down between her legs. She felt a little guilty about her impatience as she began moving against that broad palm, she was after all meant to make up for the day to him. But Edér only responded with the faintest of groans and by pressing her even tighter against himself – and against the rough metal scales separating them.

The Watcher twisted herself, trying to face Edér, only to notice the same frustration on his face that was building in her. She laughed as she reached for the straps keeping his pauldron in place. The farmer hastily followed her lead. Bits of his armor came off him, one by one, until he was only covered by the light fabric of his clothes underneath.

Gaura once again was against the door, her thigh lightly held up against Edér’s hip, her hands digging deep into his hair, her mouth locked in a forceful, insistent, ravenous kiss. She moaned faintly into the farmer’s mouth, only for him to pull away, letting the last note fill the space between them.

‘For once, we don’t need to keep quiet,’ he grinned down at her.

‘When do we ever keep quiet?’

A self-aware chuckle left Edér at the question. ‘Never. And I feel real guilty afterwards.’

The Watcher softly chuckled. ‘And how do you think I should feel?’ She lightly pressed against his chest and stepped forward. He let her guide him to the bed, his gaze never leaving her face, his eyes never showing anything but his craving for her closeness. He barely heard the question over his heart beating in his ear, pounding under her hand for her.

‘Dunno, how do you think you should feel?’ His question ended in a quiet yelp as Gaura pushed him onto the bed. Before he could gather his thoughts again, she was already on top of him. Before he could speak again, her lips were already on his.

He melted into her kiss. His hands came to her hips and pulled her down as he sat up. His touch felt like a question and a plea and the Watcher answered with exactly what he wanted. He quietly groaned into her mouth as she started grinding against him again, then he pulled away, as if merely feeling her movements wasn’t enough, he needed to look, he needed her occupy all his senses. He bit his lip as he watched her hips roll. His hands moved again, one downwards, fingers biting into her encouragingly, while the other reached for the laces of her vest. Gaura chuckled, her voice rang deep and hoarse with desire as she pushed him back down on the bed. Edér blinked up at her in surprise but his expression quickly changed as he watched her remove her vest first, her knees hugging him a little tighter as if anticipation was getting the better of her, despite her slow movements. A breathless curse left him when she took her shirt off next. He felt a little foolish feeling as hypnotized as he did, as if he never saw her before, as if he didn’t know every last inch of her body. And yet, she was beautiful like the sunset by the shipyard.

Gaura, however, didn’t let him admire her for long. She moved lower so she could lean over him and take his shirt in her mouth. She laughed as she pulled it to his neck with her teeth. Edér gasped when he felt her mouth move to his pecks next, showering them with sloppy kisses – too hungry not to let a few gentle bites mingle with them, too indulging not to show his nipples some special attention, too self-satisfied not to have them resonate with the Watcher’s giggles as she grew drunk on the sounds she was drawing out of the farmer.

‘I’m thinking I still haven’t properly apologized for wasting your time today,’ Gaura let her tongue guide her down his chest, to a spot over his hipbone. Edér pushed himself up slightly and his movements formed a roll on his side that she couldn’t resist nibbling. The farmer laughed at the feeling only for his laughter to turn into a groan once the Watcher’s hand found its way to his bulge.

‘And here I was planning on spoiling you…’ He watched as she undid his pants and pulled out his cock.

‘Plans change, as we both learned today,’ she left a small kiss on his shaft, her eyes curving over her smile. ‘But it’s up to you,’ while Edér was trying to remember how to breathe, she ran her tongue along his length, stopping at the head, while her hand began pumping him, ‘do you want me to stop?’ She asked, still smiling, her lips brushing against him, her eyes fixed on him, waiting for the answer she already knew.

‘Of course not.’

Gaura’s mouth closed around him, stifling a satisfied hum. In a few moments she found a decent enough rhythm, if the sounds coming from Edér were any indication, even if her pace was a little hurried for the Watcher’s taste. She couldn’t help it though. Not after a day of feeling him close and yet never close enough. Her flames rippled as she moved further down along his length. Breathing became her sole focus. Her hands moved to the farmer’s thighs as they tensed up, his body answering her, ready to close whatever distance was left between them.

‘Come up for air.’

Gaura glanced up at him. Edér’s hand lightly closed around her horn. She pulled away just as the veteran sat up and he pulled her on his lips immediately. She spent a moment catching her breath resting her forehead against his once he let her go.

‘Don’t think you realize how pretty your mouth is,’ he said as he guided her back to his lap, ‘or how good it feels.’

When the Watcher took him in her mouth again, she didn’t move. She didn’t have to. Edér’s thrusts were light and slow. He held her steadily by her horn, keeping her gaze on him and in turn he didn’t look away either, even though it took every bit of his strength not to sprawl out on the bed, eyes closed, head thrown back in pleasure until she made him come undone. It all felt very selfish, it all felt very generous, whatever he was actually being, Edér knew Gaura would forgive him for it.

Soon, however, he felt a familiar heat on his thighs.

‘Dammit,’ he guided Gaura away from him. ‘I uh… I started to feel your hair.’

The Watcher nodded as she wiped her mouth. ‘You still got some potions, right?’

‘I think so,’ Edér hastily patted his pockets, failing to notice her sitting beside him, undressing. By the time he found a vial, she was already bare, sitting cross-legged, and leaning back leisurely.

‘Do you need help opening the bottle?’ She cocked her head with an impish smile that put a smirk on the veteran’s face as well.

‘Dunno, it might taste nicer from your hand,’ he said, but downed the potion regardless. He tossed the empty vial aside and shimmied out of his remaining clothes. His eagerness to touch the Watcher again was visible in his movements which drew a melodious laugh out of her. He kicked his pants off with a curse but at least, she still found it funny, her laughter still echoed in the room as Edér closed the distance between them. She still laughed as he pushed her legs apart. And then his fingers found her slit. She grew quiet then. ‘My turn,’ he broke the silence.

The Watcher gasped as Edér began rubbing her again. ‘Wow, you’re wasting no… time,’ her last word was barely louder than a sigh as she felt a pair of fingers pushing past her folds. She knew she craved him, she felt the heat of her need pool in her belly as she pleased him, and yet she wasn’t quite aware how badly, how intensely she wanted him until she felt him within her. Even the lightest of his touches could’ve set her nerves ablaze, but Edér was determined to give her more than that. His touch was careful, but firm, gentle, but Gaura could still feel his strength. A soft whimper left her lips which was answered with a kiss landing on her forehead.

‘Just had a hunch that you needed me,’ he glanced down at his fingers easily sliding in and out of her, the light tremors running through Gaura’s legs, her muscles tensing by her hip as she fought the urge to rock herself against him, ‘I’m getting the sense that I wasn’t wrong.’

‘You really weren’t,’ the Watcher felt like her arms were about buckle under her. Edér noticed it too, and gave her shoulder a light push. He pulled his fingers out of her only long enough to get on top of her, but even those few moments of absence felt immense and strangely anguishing. The farmer seemed to have been spurred on by those few moments as well. His touch felt more insistent, a little more forceful. His gaze was dark and twinkling with desire as he looked down on her. He left one last kiss on her lips before he moved on to her chest, to the glowing mark shining in the center of it. Gaura could’ve sworn every last one of her flames flared up when the farmer kissed her there, savoring the feeling of those same flames lapping at him harmlessly. All the while his hand kept moving, his friction kept building that sweet, sweet pressure that got the Watcher squirming under him, arching herself towards him. She needed him closer, and closer still. Meanwhile Edér continued following the unseen trail of his own kisses down her chest, down her belly, until he finally reached her clit.

Gaura could barely handle the contrasting sensations lovingly assaulting her senses. The relaxed, tender touches of Edér’s tongue, opposed to the swift movements of his calloused fingers. The feeling of his coarse mustache rubbing against her along with his soft lips. Her hands came down to his hair, and she couldn’t decide if she merely wanted to hold him, to let her touch express the feelings she couldn’t put into words, or to keep him in place as she began to move against him. Her body made her decision for her. She heard a satisfied “mm-hmm” coming from Edér and even without looking she could tell, he was smirking up at her. His free hand came to her thigh, his fingers bit into her, not to stop her from grinding, but to spur her on.

‘Fuck, I love you so much,’ the Watcher moaned. Her words echoed in her mind, like a chant to the rhythm of her heart. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. Her pace was slower than Edér’s but her rhythm followed his, until she lost her sense of time, until she only sensed him as if he was being seared into her soul.

She was being kissed. Slowly, deeply, lazily. Gaura smiled against Edér’s lips. She wrapped her arms around his broad back, her thighs hugged his hips as they gently rolled against her. He wasn’t done with her.

‘I love you too,’ Edér said as he pulled away just far enough to look the Watcher in the eye, just long enough to see her face as he entered her.

Gaura beamed at him. She bit her lip as he pushed further into her, enjoying the feeling of being stretched. Her belly felt hot with arousal again. She pulled Edér down on her, giggling in his ear, that grew louder when he heard the farmer curse in response. Her laughter softened to a melodious moan as he began moving, thrusting into her at a relaxed pace.

‘Love it when you sound like that,’ Edér left a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

‘I love it when you make me sound like that.’

Hearing that, the farmer reached below Gaura and lifted her by her waist slightly. She gasped when she felt the new angle. Each of his movements ignited sparks within her, and soon she found herself clinging to him, moaning his name into his ear. Edér slammed into her hard with a groan as an answer, stealing the Watcher’s breath away.

A moment later, the world seemed to have shifted and Gaura was upright, kneeling at the edge of the bed with Edér, straddling Edér, moving with Edér. He held her with an iron grip, one arm around her shoulder, another around her waist, trying to keep her in place as he kept thrusting into her hard. But even as close as he held her there was just about enough room for her to move still. She rocked against him, meeting him with slight motions of her own and that slight, sweet added friction nearly pushed Edér over the edge. He cursed loudly and the Watcher answered with an adoring laugh. The farmer pulled her down on him hard, turning the last notes of her laughter into a moan. He did love it when she sounded like that, and she did love it when he made her sound like that.

Edér looked up at the Watcher as if he couldn’t bear to look at anything else. Gaura cupped his face, lightly kissed his forehead over and over, whispering against his skin.

‘I needed this, Edér. I… I need you.’

The farmer picked up the pace. It wasn’t long before Gaura felt her senses growing overwhelmed for him again. She couldn’t keep moving, she could only hold him close as she was consumed by the ecstasy he invoked. She heard her name. Edér held her as if he was desperate to lose himself in her and as if she was the only thing that could stop him from doing so. With one last hard thrust he found his release and for a few moments that stretched infinitely he remained as he was: on his knees, holding his beloved.

The Watcher blew a kiss on the farmer’s hair. Edér let out a breathless chuckle at that. He pulled out and lightly shoved Gaura off himself. She gasped, surprised, while he leaned over her, laughing, leaving one sloppy, forceful kiss after the other on the large, glowing crack in the middle of her chest. That got her laughing too. Edér looked up at her at that.

‘I love you.’

Gaura gently caressed his cheek. ‘I love you.’

Edér rolled off her with a groan. For a short while they laid next to each other like that, staring at the ceiling, their legs dangling off the edge of the bed, their silence only being broken by the muffled sounds coming from the other rooms in the brothel.

‘Apology accepted, I take it?’ The Watcher spoke into the empty air. She felt the bed shift next to her and a moment later she felt a broad set of fingers turning her face towards Edér.

‘I wasn’t really mad at you. You know that, right?’ He smiled at her adoringly. ‘Even if there was anything to forgive, I would’ve forgiven you by now.’

Gaura returned his smile. ‘I know.’

‘But if you want I can pretend I’m real angry at you, so that we can stay here a bit longer to work things out,’ he plopped back down on the bed with a sigh. ‘Not really in the mood to climb a mountain, right now.’

The Watcher pushed herself up, chuckling. She let her fingers trace the hair on Edér’s chest. ‘The night is still young.’

‘So… wasting more time here, it is,’ the farmer took her hand and lifted it to his lips. He got up a moment later and hastily slipped on his clothes. ‘Dunno about you, but I’m kinda thirsty,’ he chuckled as he turned around and winked at her. ‘Be back in a minute.’

Edér left as the Watcher sat up and followed him with her gaze.

‘No time is wasted on you,’ she told the closed door.

#wrytinge #oc fic: gaura #pillars of eternity #edér x watcher #edér teylecg #nsf vörk #yeah i did some proofreading but it's long so... if you find anything no you don't

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