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black-kitties · 1 year

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Chapter 4

Start reading from Chapter 1

There was a noticeable shift in Jaz’s surroundings that tipped her off that she was now entering Suicide Slums. The streets were lined with three to four story condos, each dedicating their first level to business fronts. The facades shifted from large window displays and neatly kept exteriors to metal bars protecting the door and windows. Old spay paint was left to weather on buildings and windows. The buildings were older in this part of the city, with crumbling brick and cracked stone veneers, mold and dirt caked to their exteriors. The foot traffic in the area changed too. People wore older clothes, huddled and rushed about trying to avoid bringing attention to themselves. Jaz realized she was being watched from window fronts of businesses, and by other pedestrians smoking outside. She pulled her hood up and picked up the pace.

They were burning daylight at this point and if she was going to be out of the area before nightfall, she’d need to find this vet clinic fast. She’d heard there was a church in Midtown right next to Suicide Slums that let transients like her sleep in the pews; she hoped she’d be able to make it there before ten pm when they closed their doors.

The vet was difficult to find, she ended up walking circles around it before finally realizing she had to enter the alley way between the two buildings. A left turn in the middle of the alley was all she’d missed. It opened into a cement courtyard with a building wrapped around it. To one side several parking stalls lined it and on the other were beat down trash bins. She would’ve completely missed it if it weren’t for google. Who chose to rent a business space in a place like this? One look at the door told her it had been busted in nights prior and hastily repaired. Hanging on it was a dirty looking ‘Open’ sign in red lettering. She looked to Hero, “Well. This is the place.” Uncertainty coloured her voice, but she didn’t let herself hesitate. The doorknob turned but she had to kick the door to unstick it from the jam. “Hello?”

The interior looked clean and well lit, as if walking into any normal vet office that was operating anywhere else in Metropolis. It didn’t feel like it matched the exterior at all. The door didn’t close behind her and she had to kick it again before it clicked. “We’re closed. Didn’t you see the sign?” The sudden male voice behind her caused Jaz to yelp and spin.

Standing in the door behind the reception desk was a tall man with long dar brown hair down to his shoulders. He filled the entire frame with the physic of a body builder, his eyes were yellow and the way they were leveled at Jaz made the hairs on the back of her neck raise, as if meeting with a wild animal. His white lab coat was open at the front and the sleeves stretched against the strain of him crossing his large arms. He was wearing a collared blue shirt underneath it and brown pants. Despite his attire something about him felt… Feral? It was like seeing a beast dressed in a doctor’s outfit.

“Uhh. Oh well, the sign out front says you’re open.” Jaz quickly regained her composure taking several steps towards the front desk.

She watched him eye up her dog before quickly returning his attention to her, “Your dog looks fine, come back tomorrow when we’re open again. Flip the sign on your way out.” He turned to leave the room-

“Wait!” He paused, turning back to her with an expressionless face. At least he wasn’t outright hostile, “I came all this way on foot ‘cus the dog is lost. I just need you to check his chip and contact his family.” When he didn’t speak she added, “Please. Everywhere else is closed.”

He sighed after a moment, running his hand through his hair. “I can’t help you today. Come back tomorrow and we can check his chip for you.” Jaz waivered for a moment, reluctant to have to make the trip into this neighborhood again. “Let me walk you to your car though, its getting late.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I can walk myself out. I’ll see you tomorrow, what time do you open?” She’d prefer not to reveal to him that she didn’t own a car.

“Ten.” He slipped back through the office allowing Jaz a momentary peek inside. She caught a glimpse of another man before the door closed.

The door was stuck fast again and the force of her kick flipped the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed’. Sighing, she distractedly scrolled through her phone trying to parse out a route to get to the church she’d heard about. A warning growl from Hero brought her attention back to her surroundings. He’d stepped in front of her between her and the figure who had turned the corner from the alley way. The figure was impossibly tall for a human, its features were obscured behind a comically large trench coat and wide brimmed hat.

And then it lunged. The hat of the stranger flew off him revealing its metal reptilian features. Hero leapt through the air intercepting the lizards path knocking it off balance, but not enough to stop it from reaching her. Jaz’s movements felt sluggish compared to the dog or the Dino but she managed to roll her way to the side dodging its first attempts at grabbing her. Instead it slammed its heavy hand into the back of Hero trying to get a grip on him. A scream ripped from Jaz’s mouth, and she dashed to help Hero. The metal tail of the Dino slammed into her side throwing her through the air. Her crash was softer than she’d been expecting, when she realized she’d been caught and plopped back on her two feet.

“Get inside.” The vet set her down behind him. Jaz’s side stung and it hurt to suck in air into her left lung. Stars were beginning to flash in her vision.

“He’s got Hero!” She yelled. The Dino was trying to drag Hero away while the dog bravely tore into its metal carapace. Her dash was blocked by his arm. His yellow eyes were now glowing in the dim light outside and his pupils had turned into slits. Fangs protruded over his lip and the tips of his ears had elongated with little furry tufts topping them.

“You’re a werewolf.” She breathed. He flinched clearly bothered by the description before lunging towards the Dino. Jaz stumbled backwards feeling the shock of each step reverberate through her head.

- - -

Claws erupted from the tips of Brin’s fingers and he leapt with unnatural speed through the air landing behind the Dino. He slashed into its back. It spun around whipping its tail at him but he bounced backwards just in time for it to slash harmlessly through the air. A growl ripped out of him as he surveyed the situation. The girl looked dazed but she hadn’t stepped back. Her hands were balled into fists as if she intended to fight. He’d have to keep an eye on her. The Dino had a tight grip on the dogs torso, though it didn’t appear injured yet judging by how much it struggled.

He took a step forward, it took a step back. Another surge of power rippled through his body as anger welled up inside him. These things had been attacking across the city and had attacked this place three nights in a row now. He should’ve insisted on walking her to her damn car, maybe then-

The Dino lunged at Brin with its free arm. He side stepped it and grabbed its arm instead digging his claws satisfyingly between the metal armour it wore. It’s tail slammed into his shoulder but he’d braced in time that it didn’t send him flying. He punched his free hand under its arm where there was a weak spot in its armoured plates shooting his nails like bullets into the metal torso. The Dino began convulsing and the dog wiggled free, dropping out of its arms.

“Hero!” The girl ran towards them.

“STAY BACK!” Brin roared but the Dino had seized that moment to lunge towards her a second time. Somehow the human seemed to read its intent and dropped herself into a slide grabbing onto her dog as the Dino leapt above her. Brin slammed into the back of the Dino. The force of its leap coupled with the force of Brin’s tackle sent it tumbling to the ground and Brin stabbed his hand into the armpit of the machine claws first grabbing a fist full of electronics before ripping the arm of it clean off. The creature let out a metallic screech as if in pain while its tail flailed wildly. The shriek sent a thrill through him. He stood on top of the creature, stomping his foot against its hip while he pulled on its tail. The metal strained and struggled but ultimately his strength won out and the tail was ripped from its body. He made quick work of its remaining limbs before remembering the girl. She wasn’t in the courtyard.

- - -

Jaz carried Hero through the alley way stumbling as she went. Her vision was blurring at the edges and any light she saw was burning into her skull. Still she had to get them to safety. The scene she saw was savage, a wolf like creature ripping into that Dino; and that scream. That scream put to rest any doubt she had that it wasn’t alive. That was pain, pure and simple. Hero was panting in her arms letting her carry him but he leapt out of them when she screamed. A heavy hand had grabbed her shoulder, spinning her on the spot while the werewolf called, “girl.” Instinctively Jaz punched him with her fist, wincing when his face didn’t even budge and her hand came away bleeding. “I will not harm you, I swear.” He lifted his hand from her shoulder hovering them both in front of him as if to show he meant no harm. That façade quickly crumbled when he caught her fist the moment she jerked away to run. Hero was at her side hackles up growling. “Please. Just let us treat you, you can barely walk, its clear you’re injured.” The force of his grip made her wince again.

“I’ll be fine,” She started but he cut her off.

“You’re clearly not.” He blew air out of his nose frustrated. “Look, you’re in no condition to drive and I can’t in good conscience let you go stumbling around like this. Not here. Just take some time to rest at the clinic first, I can drive you home after.” As much as she feared what she’d just seen, he was beginning to make some sense… And… She stumbled, leaning to the left. If it weren’t for him holding her fist she’d have fallen. Hero whimpered and looking down he’d lowered his hackles and seemed to indicate that they should follow.

“Alright. Just- Just for a little bit.” He nodded. He wrapped her arm over his far too tall shoulder and she expected he was going to support her as she hobbled towards the clinic only for the ground to be ripped away from her. “Put me down!”

“Ow, that was right in my ear.” He grimaced. The fangs on his face were smaller now, and the furry tufts on his ears were disappearing.

“I can walk just fine, put me down!”

“You walk slow.”

“You didn’t even give me the chance to.” She winced resting her head against his shoulder for a moment. Lights had just grown blindingly bright.

“You ran slow, now stop yelling and just wait until we get to the clinic.” He shot back annoyed. It was no more than a minute before they’d reached the clinic on his long legs. He didn’t set her down at the door though and instead carried her in princess style to the gasp of his colleague.

“Brin, is that the girl from earlier? Are you ok miss?” An older dark-skinned vet with greying white hair and a bushy salt and pepper walrus moustache followed them into the veterinarians office. “Here,” The sound of metal scraping against metal filled the room forcing Jaz to screw her eyes shut against the pain. She felt herself be set on a cool metal surface. “There we go. No, no, no, just relax,” He gently stopped her from sitting up. “This is my office. Not as comfortable as ones made for humans, but you’re in good hands here, I wasn’t always just a vet you know.” His smile was warm and kind. “Now just relax. I’m going to give you a check over, make sure nothings broken inside. Brin, where are you going?”

“Going to check on our friend outside. Left that one still alive.” She heard the click of the door but kept her eyes closed.

“Is the light bothering you?” She could hear the noises of the veterinarian searching through drawers and the light clattering noises as he placed things onto his metal tray.

“Yeah. Bright lights, noises. My head hurts.” She could tell the lights dimmed through her eyelids. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Did you hit your head out there? Where did those metal bastards hit you?” The sound of little nails against the ground eased Jaz’s worry that Hero wasn’t with her.

“Yes and no,” She made eye contact with the doctor, “It hit me here.” She indicated to her side, “And I hit my head three days ago, was just discharged from the hospital.”

“Ok, I’m going to touch you now, just to check on your body. Tell me when it hurts.” The man really did seem to have clinic experience, he was acting just like her family doctor back home. “Oh, gosh me. My names Jason by the way. Jason Niles. I’m the owner of this veterinary clinic.” He spoke while he poked and prodded her sides, testing her ribs, listening to her breath. Checking her head.

“Name’s Jaz. Jaz Heller.”

“Now tell me Jaz. Why, after waking up in the hospital, did you decide to come all the way here?”

“To get Hero’s chip checked.”

“In your condition you should’ve gone straight home and rested. The hospital did recommend bed rest, right?” He even had the same chiding tone typical of a doctor’s bedside manner.

“Figured I’d do that first before going home.”

“Right.” He chuckled in face of her stubbornness, “Well, nothing is broken or bleeding, save for your hand. I’ve bandaged that for you so why don’t you come upstairs and rest for a bit on the couch. When you’re feeling better, we’ll take you home, ok?” She simply nodded, allowing him to help her up and relying on him to help her navigate up the stairs.

“So is Brin…” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“Brin has been my assistant for many months now. He’s a decent fellow, got a temper on him, but he’s good at heart. He’s been protecting this side of Metropolis since he’s arrived.” He set Jaz down on a large well worn leather couch. The kind that you sunk into and could curl right up on. “You have no reason to fear him.”

She just nodded in response before resting her eyes for just a moment.

Chapter 5

#justice league #fanfiction #writing #fanfic writing #chapter 4 #worldheart #chapters

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

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You Made Them | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @mollyxoxox246

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Having children is hard to begin with. Having children with Shelby in their blood is even harder. (Y/N) shouldn't be surprised when her kids get out of hand, but it still takes them all on a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: smoking, language

Word Count: 2994

A/N: the kids definitely take the starring role in this one. Hope you enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR THOUGHTS & COMMENTS HELP ME WRITE!

When's Tommy coming home? That was the only thought in (Y/N)'s mind as she listened to her two kids scream while they played animatedly with the set of blocks, dolls, and animals in front of them. They had been rather wild today, and Tommy was the only one who was able to level them when they got like this.

(Y/N) only sighed as the two kids got up and started running around the room. George, who was now four, was currently chasing Charlotte, or Charlie as she was normally referred to as, who was just a few months away from turning three.

(Y/N) and Tommy were thrilled when they found out that she was expecting. They had been together for five years, and though they really had no plans of marrying - they practically saw themselves as wed to each other and didn't care for the legality that was attached to it - they were excited to be bringing a new life into the world.

George Alexander Shelby was named after (Y/N)'s father and grandfather. (Y/N) got the chance to name him after winning a coin flip, which was Tommy's suggestion. The little boy was just a few months over two when (Y/N) found out that she was expecting another child. This time, they agreed that Tommy would be able to pick the name. He was set on Charlie. Charlie Strong was the most prominent father-like figure in his life and he wanted to pay homage to that. Of course, Tommy never let the thought that the baby could be a girl cross his mind. So when she came screaming into the world and Polly announced the sex, Tommy's mind was spinning for new ideas. They had already talked previously, and agreed that they didn't want to have any more children. So this was his last shot to pass his 'uncle's' legacy on.

"What about Charlotte, love? You can still call her Charlie," (Y/N) suggested as she cradled the child close to her chest. She knew the dilemma he was having at the moment.

Tommy pursed his lips, thinking about it for a moment before he spoke, "Charlotte Elizabeth Shelby," he decided, making (Y/N) smile up at him. Elizabeth was his aunt Polly's birth name. It was perfect.

"I like it, Tommy," she agreed with him, smiling down at the sleeping girl then.

Now they were running like crazy people around the playroom that had been set up in Arrow House. (Y/N) wondered why they were so wild. It could have possibly been the moons, but it could have also been because their father had been away on a week's long business trip to London. The wheels always fell off a little when Tommy wasn't around.

"George, please don't hit your sister," (Y/N) scolded the boy, who clearly didn't hear her speak over the loud screaming of his sister. "George!" (Y/N) yelled a bit louder, finally getting his attention. "We don't hit girls," she told him, a frown on her face as the boy froze and dropped the toy he was holding. Pleased with her parenting, (Y/N) nodded her head and allowed for them to continue what they were playing before they had started running around.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)," (Y/N) heard from the doorway, making her turn to see one of the maids who worked for the family.

"Yes, Kathy?" she asked, standing from the rocking chair to go over to the younger woman.

"I have gotten word that Mr. Shelby will be returning later this evening. Do you want me to have dinner prepared for his arrival?"

(Y/N) had to think that over. Would Tommy want to eat upon returning home? Probably not. But she hoped that she'd at least be able to coax him into sitting with his family as they ate their dinner. So with that in mind, she nodded her head. "Yes, please make sure it is prepared for when he returns."

"Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N)," the maid nodded her head before she turned to leave the doorway.

Alone again, (Y/N) turned back to the playroom, only to find that it was empty. She furrowed her brows, not remembering any point where the two children could have slipped out. They were never quiet about anything and she would have heard them. Maybe they managed to while she was in thought. Her hands fell to her hips as she walked the corridor, listening for any sounds they might make. Then she heard giggles and footsteps on the hardwood floor. They were coming from behind the slightly ajared door to her right. The breath got caught in her throat when she realized what room it was: Tommy's office.

Hesitantly, she pushed back the door to see that her children were indeed in that room. Charlotte was running in circles around the low table that sat between the two couches, and George was perched on the chair behind Tommy's desk. He had a pen in his hand and looked to be scribbling on whatever papers were on his father's desk. This couldn't be good.

"I'm drawing a horsey, mummy!" he exclaimed gleefully once he noticed his mother's presence. He then held up the paper, which was indeed one of Tommy's important export papers, to show that he had covered the page with black lines he thought looked like a horse. (Y/N) would have smiled at his attempt had it not been done on her partner's paperwork. Now, her stomach was doing flips.

"You kids know better than to come into daddy's room when he isn't home!" she exclaimed, more out of worry than anger. How was she going to explain this to Tommy?

"I'm gonna draw another one!" George exclaimed, grabbing yet another paper from the stack off to his right. "Daddy's gonna love this!"

"Stop drawing on daddy's papers, George!" she exclaimed, a frown on her face. The boy ignored her request, which made her huff. She was about to march over to him and put an end to it, but the actions of her daughter were a cause for more concern. She was now alternating between running around the circular table and flinging the magazines off of it, all while giggling loudly. "Charlotte! Stop what you're doing this instant! You are making a mess and you are going to hurt yourself!" she exclaimed, her hands falling to her hips. "Stop!"

"Mummy, mummy, look..."

"Oi!" another voice cut off George's, making the room fall silent. (Y/N) hadn't even heard him come into the house. Now he was standing in the doorway of his office, his eyes wide as he took in the scene in front of him. Charlie was no longer giggling, but she was still making her way around the table. "Who do you two think you are, eh? Disobeying your mother and ignoring what she has to say," he wasn't yelling. He didn't need to. The tone of his voice alone commanded the children's attention. Tommy looked between the two wide-eyed children - his voice got the attention of Charlotte - with a scowl on his face. Then he saw the papers flung everywhere and the pen that was still gripped between George's fingers. "You both should know better than to come into my office, and you never should make a mess out of things that are not your toys..." he trailed off, his eyes honing in on his son, "George, I hope that pen has a cap on it."

As soon as he was addressed, the little boy had tears falling from his eyes, "I'm so sorry, daddy!" he exclaimed, knowing he'd done wrong but just now accepting the consequences of it.

"Go into your room, eh? Sit on the bed and wait for me," Tommy told him and George nodded, hanging his head as he walked out of the room. Charlotte, noticing that her playmate was leaving, dropped the magazine that she previously had the corner of in her mouth to follow her brother. Tommy then stepped into the office, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face as he assessed the damage done.

"You're home early," (Y/N) sheepishly commented. She felt terrible that this was what he came home to.

"Why the fuck was my office unlocked?" he questioned with anger in his voice. The anger wasn't directed at (Y/N), but she couldn't help but feel guilty.

"I don't know why. Maybe one of the maids forgot to lock it when they were in here cleaning," (Y/N) answered hesitantly, able to feel his tenseness as he stepped over to his desk. She held her breath as he looked over the papers that were now messily scattered.

"Fuck," he breathed, pinching the sides of his forehead as he tried to contain himself. This was not what he wanted to come home to after a week of stressful business meetings. "How did they get in here, (Y/N)?" he then questioned her, turning in her direction before he leaned back against the desk.

"We were in the playroom, but they must've slipped out when the maid came to ask me a question," she was honest with him. There was no point in lying. Tommy only nodded before he walked past her, exiting the room. "Where're you going, Tommy?" she asked, two steps behind him.

"To talk to them. They have to know that they can't be disrespecting my things, and that they have to listen to you," he stated, not slow with his stride. She hoped he wouldn't be too hard on them. "Then I'm gonna go to the fucking maids and find out which one left my office open. They'll be in charge of cleaning it." (Y/N) stayed in the hall as Tommy rounded the corner into George's room. She couldn't bear to be in there when he spoke to them. She didn't try to stop him either as he gave them a stern talking to. They needed to learn that there were rules in the house.

Everyone in the Shelby family was gathered around the betting shop. The adults were all sitting at the table, save for Tommy, who always chose to stand for these meetings. George and Charlotte were off to the side, occupying themselves with some toys that had been brought along. They accompanied (Y/N) and Tommy on their trip to Small Heath this weekend because (Y/N)'s parents requested that they bring them over to visit. They needed to get through this order of business first.

“Alright then, Arthur. Let us know what your idea is,” Tommy nodded towards his older brother, who had just announced that he had a thought about the future of the company.

“We shouldn’t get involved with the Russians, Tommy. We’re doing fine with what we’ve got going on now. There’s no need to push our luck any further,” he stated. Arthur was always the one who aired on the side of caution when it came to business matters.

Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “That...is a dumb idea, brother,” he told the man sitting across from him, bluntness in his words.

The older of the two didn’t even have the chance to respond, because before he could open his mouth, four year old George was chiming in from where he was sitting on the floor. “Yeah, that idea is fucking stupid, uncle Arthur,” he commented, not even lifting his eyes from the toy in his hands.

To make matters worse, Charlotte chimed in right after him, repeating two of the worse words that her brother had said: “fucking stupid!” The only difference was that she looked up at the table of adults, who were all now wearing shocked expressions. She just smiled at them innocently, not knowing the meaning behind the curse word she said.

Arthur had a frown on his face as he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t mad at the children for what they said. He was shocked that they’d said those words so freely. Instead, he was mad at his brother. “You gonna reign your kids in, Tom?” he questioned then, being the first of anyone to speak. They stared at each other a moment longer before Tommy broke the contest, looking at (Y/N), who was mortified that her kids had just said those words.

“George. You’re going to your room when we get finished here. No gigi and papa’s house anymore,” Tommy spoke sternly to the boy then, whose bottom lip was already quivering before his sentence was finished. His eyes then shifted to Charlotte, who was confused by why her brother was crying all of a sudden. “And little girls should never speak like that,” he raised his eyebrows at her. She understood his tone and the floodgates opened.

Within a matter of seconds, there were two crying children clambering their way over to their mother for comfort. She pushed her chair out and allowed them to fall into her chest, hugging the both of them in her arms as she tried to stop their crying. Tommy pursed his lips as he stared at his partner and kids for a moment before glancing around at the rest of his family, who were just sitting quietly and watching the whole thing happen. “Come with me. Bring them too,” he then told (Y/N), who tried her best to stand with the children still tucked under her arms. She was able to, following behind Tommy to the area of offices with the crying kids in tow. “We’ll be back in a minute,” he announced to his remaining family members, who were surely going to be having a chat about this once they were out of earshot. Tommy couldn’t care less about them. He just needed to reel his family back in.

“Could you calm them down?” Tommy questioned as he shut the door behind him. He let out a sigh as he fished his cigarette case out of his pocket and stuck one between his lips, hoping that the nicotine it held would help calm his nerves.

“What do you think I’m doing?” (Y/N) glared at him before going back to whispering soft, calming words to the kids in hopes to quell their crying.

“I can’t believe they just fucking did that,” he huffed, starting to pace slightly as he ran his hand through his hair.

“What do you expect, Tom? You made them,” (Y/N) commented, almost laughing at the irony of it all. He had just said the word that he reprimanded his children for saying.

“You made them too,” Tommy was quick to point out, pointing his finger in her direction.

She shook her head before speaking, “nope, this is the Shelby side through and through.” Tommy didn’t say anything in response. He knew it was true. Instead he let out a sigh and took one last drag from his cigarette before he stubbed it out in the ashtray on his desk. “You kids alright now?” (Y/N) asked the kids in her arms, who were only sniffling at this point. They both nodded their heads, and (Y/N)’s heart almost broke as she looked at their tear stained cheeks.

“Should we go back out?” Tommy asked, looking between (Y/N) and his children.

“I think so,” she nodded in response, standing up to place a hand on each child’s shoulder. Tommy led them out to the betting floor, letting (Y/N) stop by his side with the kids once they joined the rest of the family.

“Do you have something to say to uncle Arthur, son?” Tommy questioned George, who nodded and stepped out from under his mother’s grasp.

“I’m sorry for saying a mean word to you, uncle Arthur,” he apologized as he stepped over to the oldest Shelby sibling. Arthur smiled softly as he accepted the hug that the kid gave him.

“It’s alright, kiddo. Kids just can’t be using that language,” he told the boy, smiling wider when he pulled back to show that there were no hard feelings. “Awe, come here, love,” he then said to Charlotte, who was toddling close behind her little brother. She giggled as he scooped her up in his arms, hugging her tightly.

“Alright. Now that that’s sorted, can we get back to business, please?” Tommy questioned, letting a sigh escape his lips after the words came out. There were no verbal disagreements, so he went on with talking about the next order of business. Halfway through, George moved over to him and tugged on the tail of his coat. This made him stop mid-sentence and look down at his son.

“Did I do good, daddy?” George asked hopefully, really wanting approval from his father.

“Yes, George. You did,” Tommy nodded, his heart softening at the sight of the child’s smile. A smile formed on his face as he reached down to ruffle the kid’s hair, making giggles escape the young boy’s lips. He then saw Charlotte making grabby hands at him, her nonverbal way of letting him know she wanted to be held. “Oh, come here, Charlie,” he gave in, lifting her up into his arms and settling her on his hip as he continued on with what he was previously saying.

George didn’t let him get very far, as he had another pressing matter on his mind. “Can we still go to gigi and papa’s?” he asked his father, who looked down at him once more.

“Yes, I suppose we can,” Tommy nodded, giving in to the child’s request. A wide smile formed on George’s face as he leaned forward to hug Tommy’s legs before going back to his toys. Charlotte was still content on his hip, and that’s where she stayed for the remainder of the meeting, which thankfully finished up with no more interruptions.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #peakyxtommy #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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sirisuorionblack · 3 years

Text

Counting...

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary - (Y/N) had been waiting for four very painful hours for the return of her boyfriend and he did just for mere minutes but she was determined to get him back.

Warnings - So many tears that u could bathe in and fluff.

(Y/N) sat at the dining table, alone, a coffee that turned cold being left unattended, her foot tapping anxiously and she blankly stared at the mahogany wood though her thoughts ran wild.

It's been four hours, very long four hours since Sirius - her beloved boyfriend - was supposed to be back home by the time from a "mission" but he still hasn't returned just adding fuel to the blazing amount of worry she had been enduring these days. She was a strong woman, Sirius always told her that, he would add it with a chuckle just realising how lucky he was.

Rapid knocks pulled her away from her trance. She gulped, taking out her wand and arming herself as she tentatively walked the door.

Upon unlocking, the door swung open and Sirius - she just knew it was him - smashed his lips against hers, pushing the two of them inside, pinning her to the wall.

He kissed her as though there was no tomorrow, as though he was terrified of something beyond her knowledge. He kissed her hard. A deep intuition in her just rang those bells of alarm.

(Y/N) pulled away, cupping his face as he heaved deep breaths, his head ducked and his whole body shivering.

"Hey, hey, Sirius, look at me," she pressed, softly as she tried to get him to look at her for she would read him like an open book once she saw his eyes.

When she did see those grey orbs, a soft gasp tumbled from her lips. There was no such thing as a sparkle in his eyes anymore, it was hollow, empty and filled with tears.

"Sirius, what happened?" She asked, worried beyond any level. A sob racked his body, his hands clawing hers as he tightly held them.

"James," he muttered through his sobs.

"James? What happened to him!?" She asked her eyes widening with fear, "Sirius, what happened!?"

Sirius flinched and tried to regain his breath, "James and Lily - they - that rat - he killed them!"

He sank to his knees in front of her but she stood there watching him sob uncontrollably as she numbly tried to comprehend the situation vaguely.

Giving up her attempt she too, collapsed before him, collecting him in her arms as he held onto her as if she was his lifetime. Not a single tear strung her eyes rather she blankly stared ahead, holding Sirius tightly in her arms.

It would take her years to accept what had happened, she lost them, she lost her best friends, she lost her almost family but what actually made her feel something was how Sirius felt, he lost the one he called his brother right after he lost his own, the girl he saw growing accustomed to their shenanigans and keeping them on the line was simply gone. He wouldn't hear his laughter anymore, he would see her lovely emerald eyes anymore and all because of the person they considered their best friend.

Rage passed through her though it subsided the moment a beaming Harry's face crossed through her mind.

"Sirius, Harry!" She vaguely exclaimed.

Sirius' sobs intensified and she waited until he calmed down enough to speak.

"Hag-Hagrid took him and I-I did a foolish thing," Sirius said, not meeting her eyes as he felt his head spin.

Her eyes widened, filled with an excessive amount of worry, "Wha-?"

She didn't even get to finish the question before the door burst open, a group of Aurors stood at the door, their wands outstretched, glaring at the couple sitting on the ground in each other's much-needed embrace.

"Mr Black," the Auror in the middle, growled as he stepped in. (Y/N) and Sirius scrambled to their feet, (Y/N) before Sirius.

"Ms (L/N), move over, he is dangerous," A female Auror said softly, outstretching her hand and looking at her as though she was a child about to throw a tantrum.

"Dangerous?!" (Y/N) scoffed, "Absolute bullshit!"

"Ms (L/N), step aside," Another Auror commanded her.

Sirius slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it, searching for the warmth he was afraid he would be deprived of.

The two Aurors in the front whispered amongst themselves. Suddenly one of them harshly pulled (Y/N) back, dragging Sirius away from her.

"NO!" She yelled as she struggled against the restraints of the Auror holding her back by the arm.

Before her, Sirius struggled to remove his arm from the Auror wanting nothing more than to just rush into her arms and be in her comforting embrace though that seemed like a wild fantasy at that moment.

Finding (Y/N) too hard to be held back, the Auror muttered a spell under her breath. (Y/N) straightened, her eyes turning blurry. She balanced herself against the wall, shaking her head and blinking her eyes.

"Sirius," she muttered, slipping in and out of consciousness. She no longer was able to stand on her feet. And Sirius watched her, yelling her name over and over again until three Aurors bodily dragged Sirius.

"(Y/N)!" Sirius yelled as he tried to pry the Aurors' hands at the same time (Y/N) whispered, "Don't go, Sirius," watching as he struggled against them and then, blank.

"(Y/N)," she heard someone call her name, "(Y/N),"

"Moony!? Moony is it you?" She asked, trying to open her eyes.

"Yes, yes, it's me," Remus said, helping her sit up. When Remus had entered Sirius' home after he had received the news, tears staining his cheek, he found the door blast down, not a soul aware of what had happened and what he next saw disturbed him senseless. For a second he was scared into oblivion, for a second he doubted his best friend, for a second he pitied that traitor as he saw (Y/N) laying on the ground motionless.

Remus had rushed to her, racking his brain all the difficult charms and methods he had been taught to wake her up but in the state of panic, he forgot the simplest method of all - just shaking her to wake up.

(Y/N) sat on the floor, her back against the wall, her hand clasped tightly in Remus', she took deep breaths. They sat in silence as the two of them tried to contemplate what had happened.

"They dragged him, Remus, I don't know even why. They said he was dangerous; Sirius cant be dangerous, he isn't," she muttered, looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

Remus sighed as he sat on the floor, squeezing her hand comfortingly and took a deep breath for what he was about to say, "After he found out about...Peter, he left after him and Sirius seemed to have cornered him, and then the Aurors arrived when almost 12 muggles were killed, and they saw nothing of Peter except for his finger was found. Before they could arrest Sirius there itself he had apparated here,"

By the time Remus finished, (Y/N) had her head leaning against the wall, staring at the photo frame right before her. It was of Sirius and her, making goofy faces and smiling at the camera, it was a week after they graduated.

"Why would Peter do that?" She whispered as she finally looked into his eyes. Remus chuckled sadly, "You know him, very well honestly, he would want to be under those who were more powerful than him, so he joined," Remus gulped, "Voldemort,"

(Y/N)'s lips parted in disbelief, "He was the spy?"

Remus nodded.

"But how did he do it?"

He sighed, "He was the secret keeper, it seems,"

"What?"

"Yeah,"

(Y/N) slapped a hand against her mouth as tears ran free from her eyes. Remus wrapped his arms around her, allowing his best friend to weep into his arms and he too, unable to hold the tears, let them stream down his eyes.

The morning when Dumbledore came to the household where Remus and (Y/N) sat, silently grieving for their best friends, not a word uttered by them, to inform Sirius has been sentenced to Azkaban for life, (Y/N) didn't feel sadness rather rage, "What!? He's not been given a chance to prove his innocence! You can't throw just him like that into Azkaban forever!" She yelled.

Dumbledore spoke calmly, "Ms. (L/N), please calm down. It's been declared by the Ministry, we cannot do anything about it,"

She took a deep breath and looked at the man pointedly, "Well, professor, if that's it, I don't find a reason for your presence here anymore,"

Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed but he apparated without a word nonetheless.

"What have you gotten in your mind?" Remus asked with a smirk as he looked at her pulling her hair into a bun and taking a deep breath.

"I am gonna prove Sirius' innocence and get my godson back," she said, determinedly as she left to her room leaving Remus sitting on the couch smiling to himself. When you have a determined (Y/N) with you, that's an announcement for the hell that is about to break loose and it could be positive or negative.

"Coffee," Remus muttered, placing the flask on (Y/N)'s desk as he glanced over the papers and textbooks scattered on her desk, "What are these?"

(Y/N) sighed, placing her pen down and leaning back on her chair, tipping it as Sirius taught her, unconsciously and Remus didn't want to point it out to her, dampening the mood.

"It's so simple, honestly," She said, glancing at the papers and then at him, "I have to get Harry's custody, and if not me Sirius should, it's legally that way too. You can't just place a year old baby in a household of the worst sort of muggles, one that absolutely ignored the fact that she had a sister,"

She took a deep breath, "Now, to Sirius, you cannot arrest someone without any evidence, much less sentence them to prison with no trial permitted. If we just try to get him a trail then everything will fall back to normal,"

"As normal as it could be," Remus said carefully.

(Y/N) sighed and nodded, "As normal as it could be,"

"What are we gonna do next?" Remus asked.

"Find someone who could help us officially for this,"

"Can't we, I dunno, do it ourselves?"

"I...I don't know,"

"We will give it a shot?"

"Damn right you are,"

Finally after two exhausting days, (Y/N) stood before Barty Crouch, some would say glaring at him, the other a cold fixated stare. She stood briskly, head held high without the minimal amount of shame or fear in that massive room, filled with people.

"Ms (Y/N) (L/N), you are here requesting another trial for Mr Sirius Orion Black." Barty Crouch said, looking at her through his glasses.

She shook her head, "Demanding for a trial,"

Crouch's nose flared as he without any disagreement corrected his mistake, knowing far too well the capability of (Y/N).

"Now, the best Aurors have seen Mr Black on the spot laughing like a maniac as the street held 13 dead bodies, including his very own friend Mr Peter Pettigrew," Barty Crouch said.

"First of all, 13 dead bodies? When was Peter's body found?" (Y/N) asked, ignoring the whispers and mutters that grew thick in the council, her gaze fixated on the man before her.

"That's right. His body was never found," She said.

"So are you telling the Wizengamot that Mr Pettigrew just magically disappeared from the scene,"

"Oh please, this Wizengamot is for magic!" She stopped to look at the slightly embarrassed face of Crouch and smirked, just look at him in the end, "Besides, he could have apparated for all we know. But that's a matter for another day; all we have at our hands is a trial for a falsely imprisoned man,"

"Ms (L/N), I will be the one directing the Wizengamot today, so please," Crouch glared at her. Someone raised a hand amidst the crowd, Amelia Bones, "Mr Crouch, I think it's best if we allow her to explain her demand. We can vote," she said, looking at the council.

A little more than half of them raised their hands, "Ah, the motion is passed, Mr Crouch, we must let her speak,"

Barty Crouch's lips twitched, "Very well then, please proceed Ms (L/N),"

(Y/N) had a smirk rivalling Sirius himself's. She took a deep breath, this moment would determine her whole life, "I demand a trial for Sirius Black, with respect to the event that happened on the night of Halloween. I am quite blatantly ashamed that the most powerful ministry wouldn't grant a trial for an innocent man," there was a voice of disapproval.

(Y/N) ignored it and continued, "I find it extremely disturbing that someone just based on his last name could be sent to Azkaban for a crime he allegedly committed. Now, Siri-Mr Black's relation with...James Potter was well known, they were almost brothers and the question here is how was he supposed to betray someone so close to him,'

"It was also known by almost everyone here about how Mr Black was disowned for going against the absurd ideas of his mother at the young age of 16, would that very man commit a crime as such!? And it's quite easy to find the truth here at the Ministry of Magic, a simple Veritaserum would do the job and if that didn't work, a check of memories of muggles at the spot would have shown the truth. And just as you said you have the best Aurors, allow them to seem the truth!"

(Y/N) finished, taking a sip of the water beside her and the council looked rather convinced by her speech. Once again Amelia Bones stood, "A vote again, perhaps, Mr Crouch?" She asked.

The man in question looked absolutely bewildered by how wrong things have been going now that the spotlight to it had been given. He nodded.

"Great. Those in favour of granting Mr Black his fair trial upon the use of Veritaserum," she said and grinned as almost all the members in the council raised their hands.

(Y/N) beamed as Crouch announced, "Sirius Orion Black will be given his trial on the third of November, here at this very room with Veritaserum brewed by a highly talented Potions Master. Any objection? Very well then, Council dismissed,"

"Moony!" (Y/N) rushed into Remus' arms, tears stinging her eyes, "We did it, Moony! We did it!"

"You got the trial!?" Remus asked, grinning at her after she pulled away.

"Yes!" She chuckled happily.

"You did it!" Remus yelled as he pulled his best friend into a bone-crushing hug, wiping his own tears.

"When is it?" He asked, still beaming.

Her bottom lip quivered, "Third of November,"

Remus' shoulder slumped, Sirius had planned something that would have changed the two of their lives on that day, and it was part of the reason why he got arrested. Remus engulfed her in a warm hug.

"Don't worry, we know he is innocent," Remus reassured (Y/N), him moving to the stands while she stood in the front of the very room she struggled for a trial on November 3.

Minutes later, the Aurors escorted Sirius into the room, he looked glum and hollow. He looked as though he feared human touch anymore, as though all those bad memories within him surfaced. He looked fragile and in that moment (Y/N)'s heart shattered.

She wanted to just rush into his arms and never let him go, hold him close to her, whisper soothing terms into his ears, for only him to hear.

Sirius glanced around the room, his eyes falling on (Y/N), he felt in the precise second nothing but pride blooming through his chest, she was his brave girl, he wouldn't worry about her, he knew she would survive. If his world hadn't collapsed, he would have called her his fiancee.

"Mr Sirius Orion Black, after the request of Ms (L/N), you have been granted a chance to prove your innocence. You will be given two drops of the truth potion - Veritaserum, and then Ms Amelia Bones, will question you," Barty Crouch announced.

Sirius was then seated in the middle of the room, his eyes fixed on nothing but (Y/N) who smiled warmly at him and he felt as if there was nothing wrong, it's just another prank he got caught in, just another petty detention, just another pathetic duel with Slytherins, he felt a bloom of comfort spreading from his chest. He allowed a little smile, very minuscule to tug on the corner of his lips.

"You, Sirius Orion Black, son of Walburga and Orion Black?" Amelia Bones questioned the basics, testing the potion.

Sirius snorted, folding his arms before him and slumping on his chair, "Unfortunately,"

"You were a Gryffindor?"

He smirked, "Yes,"

"Well, Mr Black now let me know what happened on Halloween's night?"

Sirius took a sharp intake of breath and sat properly on the chair, "I went see Prongs first to tell about the ring and when I went there the roof of their house was absolutely collapsed and I was afraid what could have happened so I went in and," Sirius' voice broke and tears stung in his eyes just as it did to (Y/N), she never knew these.

"And I-I saw James laying on the floor, his eyes were open but....he wasn't- he wasn't moving and when I checked for his breath," Sirius took a deep breath, "There was nothing,"

Sirius retold what he had seen and done on that day, with pauses for breath and sips of water to calm himself down.

By the end, Amelia Bones was moved to tears so were the rest of the courtroom, especially (Y/N) who often wiped her eyes.

Bones turned to Barty Crouch, silently asking him for the final judgement.

He took a deep breath, "Very well then, at the end of this trial, based on accounts given by the Accused induced with Veritaserum, I, Bartemius Crouch, hereby declare, Sirius Orion Black innocent!"

Remus and (Y/N) patiently waited for Sirius to change out of his Azkaban clothes and into the one he was wearing that day.

"Love?" Sirius called, tentatively, about four feet away. Tears started to stream down (Y/N)'s eyes as she ran towards him.

She threw herself into his arms, burying her head into his shoulders and chanting his name. Sirius slowly started to rock her, finally, the warmth he had been deprived of seeped into his body, he felt safe and...home.

"Darling, I am here, don't worry, it's going to be OK," He consoled her. The turn of events was almost hilarious for (Y/N), it was supposed to be her saying those words.

She pulled away, cupping his cheeks. There were dark circles under his eyes, his eyes - Oh goodness - they were a dark shade of grey, bad memories and tears clouding them, and he looked pale.

She couldn't hold her to see him anymore so she smashed her lips against his, inviting him for a passionate embrace. Neither of them knew until then that this was what they wanted, to feel the other, a silent reassurance that everything is going to be alright.

Remus watched as the two of his...remaining best friends held each other in a much-needed embrace, he smiled warmly. The surprise that would await the two of them by the other.

"Come on," (Y/N) beckoned inside their, squeezing Sirius' hand and Remus in tow, "Stay here," she said and disappeared inside a room.

Sirius took out the velvet box buried inside his coat pocket and showed it to Remus, who clapped him on the back and nodded encouragingly.

When (Y/N) returned with a sleeping baby Harry in her arms, beaming, she didn't expect to see Sirius on his one knee, holding a velvet box open, a beautiful diamond ring shining inside.

The two of them gasped simultaneously as Remus watched with proud eyes, feeling like a mother watching her kids grow.

"I dunno what to say," Sirius said, "Everything I prepared flew out of my mind. But just one thing, I need you in my life, I need you for my sanity, I am absolutely nothing without you and you hold my world above, darling, if it wasn't for you it would have collapsed ages ago. Over everything else...I love you, so much that I can't even express it. I-will you, (Y/N) (L/N), marry me?"

(Y/N) nodded rapidly, unable to speak she rushed into his arms, still holding Harry carefully.

They pulled away after a moment and Sirius slipped the ring into her finger and took Harry in his arms, admiring how much he looked like his father.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he said, his arm encircling around her waist.

"I love you too," she muttered, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Remus," Sirius called, glancing behind for his best friend, "Group hug,"

Remus rushed to the three of them. Finally, they felt happy perhaps like tightly woven remainings of one big family.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader #remus lupin #remus john lupin #remus lupin x platonic!reader #james potter #harry potter #harry potter x reader #lily evans #amelia bones #marauders #marauders era #mwpp era

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aetherarf · 3 years

Note

When you get the chance... Can you write a ChiLumi story involving hurt/comfort by Lumine after Childe (Ajax) uses Foul Legacy Form and goes too far? Please include trauma of sort.

To make this easier: It’s storming and they are on DragonSpine (I REALLY love this area)

Have fun and Thank you!

I did my best to make it... angsty. Here you go!

@luciana-scarlet

[[ TW: Blood, Violence, Aggressive Behavior ]]

[[ Summary: Lumine wanted to go to Dragonspine, to complete tasks long since forgotten, letting Childe come along to help, only for everything to go wrong.

Word Count: 2'773 ]]

It was just a mission. Lumine had been going through her pack, and... she found a box. An odd box that she... didn't exactly understand. After spending an, admittedly, long time looking through scrambled notes

[ Aether was always better with notes, with keeping track of what was important... ]

She found out it had something to do with Dragonspine. She thought she was done with that gods [or, perhaps, Archons] forsaken place, the chill only just having escaped her bones after so many months...

"Ah, you want a coat?" Childe asked, and Lumine nodded, "Well, my only question is... for what? I'm not the best at fashion, but I know how to keep warm as well as any Snezhnayan. Actually, probably a lot better."

Lumine lifted her hand, and held up two fingers-

"Warmth, then," He had long since understood, "Does Paimon need one?"

Lumine hesitated for a moment, looking over at Paimon, who was bundled up...

Would she need to come?

Lumine shook her head, then shifted her hand to lightly pat on her chest, signifying only she needed one.

"Right. Paimon is going to stay in the Teapot, then?" He asked, looking over at her, and how pleased she seemed in this moment... and Lumine nodded. "Where are you intending on going, anyway?" He leaned forward a little, to be closer to eye level with her, "Anywhere I could come to?"

Lumine thought for a moment, then held her hands in front of her mouth, palms upwards and fingers forward, and curled her fingers up, wiggling them as she moved her hands forward, and blowing over her hands...

Dragon.

She crossed her arms at the wrist, fingers inwards except her index and middle, which curled inwards, she then used one hand to touch the back of her neck, and one hand gestured that she was holding something, and the other signalled that it was trailing down a string.

Spine.

"Dragonspine?" Childe asked, and she nodded, "I thought you hated Dragonspine."

She had reached over to the odd box and showed it to Childe, he lightly dusting it off as he examined the fine design...

"This has something to do with Dragonspine, and... let me guess, your adventurers pride won't let you leave it?"

She nodded, and he chuckled.

"Oh, I'll come with you, then. Can't let you freeze to death... Plus it'd be good conditioning for when you come to Snezhnaya with me." He nodded to himself, as though approving something, "Right, I have a coat, and if it keeps me warm in Snezhnaya, it'll keep me warm in Dragonspine... I think I know a place in Mondstadt that we could get you a custom, fluffy coat..."

He was already thinking about it, and Lumine could only smile. She'd get the best coat for the cold that money could possibly buy, and she didn't have to pay a single mora.

... ... ...

Bundled up tight, Serenitea Pot left at the camp (she never liked bringing it up the bitter mountain), and she had already began to climb the massive beast made of ice and stone, with Childe right beside her.

For some time, besides her stopping and warming her hands at any nearby fire or seelie, it was peaceful, the two taking a few brief moments to look over the ocean of snow resting over the rest of the mountain ...

Then Lumine began to shiver, and they went onward, likely to the next source of heat, or just out of the wind nipping at her nose and cheeks.

"We should come here more often," Childe hummed, as they stopped at a small, abandoned camp, equipped with the bare essentials...

But, when you came prepared, it was just a pleasant head start. Set up in a large, empty cave, there wasn't too much fear of asphyxiation, and it seemed mostly abandoned, other than a few animals.

Lumine was doing her best to start a spark with two stones, until there was a small, promising flame, setting a pot near it--

"Hmm..." Childe looked out the entrance to the cave, "There's a lot of Hilichurls nearby... I'd rather not get disturbed in the middle of a good time by them, you know?"

She was motionless for a second, then looked up at him, staring blankly for a long moment...

"Well?" He asked, a grin on his face, and she just sighed...

They probably have some reasonably fresh food stores there...

Her feelings on Hilichurls were awkward at best, but, at the end of the day, they were openly aggressive against humans, even whose who truly had no ill intentions and did everything in their power to leave them be, so she used that as an excuse to comfort herself.

Lumine nodded, and Childe cheered in excitement, jumping up, "Yeah! Come on, come on, let's do this!" He laughed excitedly to himself, grabbing her hand and hoisting her up to her feet, all but dragging her ahead as she struggled to keep herself from falling face first into the icy ground.

It didn't take long for them to get out of the cave, and... Lumine looked around, there truly wasn't much. She wanted to argue, to insist that the Hilichurls wouldn't bug them, but Childe turned and looked at her, a wild look in his eyes...

... He needs to vent energy.

Despite not really knowing where to go, and plenty of dragging Lumine around until she finally smacked his arm, a single warning before she'd leave him to freeze in the snow, and they found themselves to a camp... Lumine looked at the area, it seemed to try and house itself beside a sharp cliff, to hide from the bitter cold, but...

Avalanche.

She grabbed Childe's hand, tugging at it a little, and as he looked at her, she shook her head with a pouty frown. Sure, there were Hilichurls, but...

"Nah, I got this," he dismissed, not looking at her for a second longer, "You ready?" He asked, and his blades appeared in his hands, and the frost already began to freeze the tips, the blades...

She sighed, and with a single moment, her sword was in her hand. She looked at the guard, the eye-like structure that stared right back at her... Dread filled her gut, but that feeling seemed to become more and more prominent, nowadays...

"Now!" Childe shouted, with a wild laugh, and he had dashed ahead, the Hilichurl's ears popping up from their fluffy heads in their surprise at his volume, and then chanted out their own cries, running towards the both of them, and Lumine could only helplessly chase as Childe seemed content to destroy anything that moved--

And the battle was over quickly. Of course it was, Childe was thorough and quick, and his blades shattered within seconds as soon as he was done, but he was still looking around...

"Is that really it?" He asked, barely panting, "That wasn't anything... Just a dumb few... Hili... Churls..."

Lumine tilted her head to the side, looking up at him, and suddenly... the mild warmth from the sun disappeared, and a shadow loomed over her--

She was only able to turn around just enough to see a massive Mitachurl towering over her, and then with a brutal swing, she was hit right in the stomach, and thrown into the stone cliff face.

"Finally!" Childe snapped out, his blades returning, and he threw himself at the Mitachurl-

Lumine could barely even get herself off the ground as she helplessly looked at the scene before her-- Childe had not even gotten a single strike, his blades trying to hook into the chest of the beast, to rip open its flesh and to watch its innards fall out...

But the cold froze his blades, and they shattered like glass, and he fell to the ground, awkwardly mangled as he was too dazed to realize that he was not fighting, he was...

"Ajax!" Lumine shrieked, shrill enough that the Mitachurl had focused on her again, and with an unsteady grip upon the blade, the agony of its corruption crawling up her hand...

She could only purify herself, and the dread that hangs over her, and fills her lungs like smoke.

As it ran to her, she thrust her blade forward, piercing its face as its blood spewed onto her face, but what she didn't expect was ,just a bit above her own mark, a purple spear thrust out from it, just an inch from her face, the tip of it causing the lightest cut on the tip of her nose, holding her breath in pure terror, but the spear was ripped back out, and the Mitachurl weakly lifted its hand to the hole, before...

It all turned to dust, the bitter wind of Dragonspine whisking it away, and now... all that stood beyond it was the nightmare of Lumine's dreams.

"Oh," he said, spinning his spear of electro in one hand, the Foul Legacy's massive maw opened, but spoke without needing to move it at all, words coming from deeper within, "You know, I kind of like it when you look afraid." He said, idly, "Reminds me of when we met... the only worthwhile fight, beyond my masterrr..." He trailed on the end of the word, letting himself gently fall to the ground, walking closer, and closer, and when Lumine tried to jump out of the way-

The spear shot into the stone wall behind her, any movement in that direction would lead to electrocution...

And in the other direction, a spear of hydro. Touching it would, at best, freeze her hand, at worst, kill her flesh with cold and ice.

And before her, the Foul Legacy stood, staring down at her.

"Why can't you let me have my fun?" He asked, getting down on one knee, and Lumine lifted her hand, her hand hitting the stone wall, but she still held her blade, it twisted, pointing at the Foul Legacy with her iron grip...

He leaned closer, the massive maw widening more, enough that if he so desired, he could crush her head in a single snap, and roaring right into her face, she flinching, closing her eyes tight until he ceased...

And he panted.

"Tell me," he demanded, "Why can't you let me have my fun? Maybe," his head twitched, tilting back and forth rapidly, "Only you can entertain me..."

She knew this wasn't Ajax. She knew, deep down, it wasn't. Perhaps, perhaps the body was his, and he was the host, but as she looked into that single eye...

Holding onto her blade, she thrust it into that blue eye, stabbing it into the Foul Legacy's eye, getting it well over halfway in before it threw its head back in agony, thrashing around, "It-it burns! IT BURNS!" It shrieked out, and she only cursed herself, knowing the burning would fled to Childe's mind as well...

And as it held its own head, it bashed into the cliff, and above--

The rumbling.

The chaos.

And the encompassing darkness as snow had begun to fall,

Avalanche.

She could see, however, as though time slowed, there was a slight overhang, and...

She pressed herself to the cliff, and watched as the Foul Legacy be consumed by an oddly beautiful sheet of white and...

And it was over. She breathed heavily, seeing the mound of snow... A distant thought, she pondered if she should leave, but-

No matter her hatred of the Foul Legacy, that was Childe's body, Ajax's soul within that cursed form.

Not wanting to risk her Anemo to turn the snow to ice and to shred him to pieces, she fell to her knees- and dug.

Her hands- her gloves quickly became wet after digging, the heat of her own body, and she could feel her skin burning with the cold, digging longer and longer, tears falling, and freezing on her cheeks before they could fall to the ground, until--

The handle of her sword appeared, and the eye was fixed forward, before, it jerked to look at her, and the faux eyelids seemed to narrow, amused with the situation...

She let out an animalistic snarl, her hatred to the weapon leading to her grabbing the handle, grabbing it and throwing it off to the side- she knew she couldn't let its disease spread, but in this moment she did not care...

But it meant that he- Ajax, was just below, and a few more moments of digging had shown his face, and blissfully enough... there was no wound. It had not harmed him, thankfully.

She grabbed the sides of his head, and she put hers near his, her forehead and tip of her nose against his...

He was breathing.

She offered herself just a second, a second of knowing he was safe...

Before she continued to dig, and eventually, she had gotten him from the snow and the frost, carrying him back to the little camp they had, only stopping for a second to grab her sword, and a few other things she could quickly shove into her satchel.

... ... ...

Since she dragged him back, she had not left his side, never more than just a little bit aways, and she would keep looking back at him, bundled up, and tucked inside the sleeping bag...

Lumine sighed, and she returned to cooking. She didn't really care what was in there, some frozen vegetables [or, truly, should she say plants in general] she took from the Hilichurl camp, some meat, and a bunch of water [again, she should just say melted snow], so it'd be easier for Childe to just drink and then go back to sleep.

She hated Dragonspine, nothing ever good from this cursed mountain, having slaughtered its people once, and it wanted to slaughter any others who remained.

And right now, that meant her and Ajax.

Looking at the soup, she decided to throw some seasonings in there, just to, hopefully, make it more palatable. Childe wasn't picky, but... She never did like it when anyone would insult her, it was rare, but from time to time a foolish knight would say she ought to be at home, taking care of a man, and there was nothing more she hated than that...

But she did like taking care of one man, maybe just a bit... when he needed her. Not like he said she should do that, in fact, he acted more like a housewife than she did.

.. Miserably, she chuckled.

Childe weakly began to cough, and if she had ears of a dog, they'd be perking up, and she immediately rushed over, moving to her hands and feet to crawl a little closer, and Childe... weakly opened his eyes,

"Hey," cough, "Hey baby... How dead am I?" He asked, and she shook her head, shifting to sit on her knees, and looking over him, her hand resting over his heart... But he rested his hand atop hers, eyes closing, but he smiled in an almost... delirious way.

Childe inhaled... and exhaled.

"I know," he said, "You don't like it when I do it. If I'm honest, I don't like it either... feels like I'm cheating."

She shook her head, not happy at all with his only concern being 'fairness'... but he chuckled.

"I'm kidding... well, about the cheating thing." He inhaled, and exhaled, "I was just... I guess I was scared, but I scared you, too..." He sighed, his head lolling to the side.

Lumine closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed, "I don't want to come back to Dragonspine again."

Childe opened his eyes fully, propping himself on his elbows as he looked at her, "You," he swallowed thickly, "Didn't you have a... uah... Box? Box for Dragonspine?"

She just shook her head, and as Childe tried to sit up, she took the liberty of helping him, pulling him to her, and once he was sitting up, she took a second to hold him, likely excusing it to herself as 'just helping', and not that she wanted to hold him after horror of everything.

"I won't..." cough, "Press it... But I do want to know," Cough, cough, he sounded so miserably weak, "What are you cooking? Smells... good... or maybe I'm just really hungry."

As though on cue, his stomach grumbled, and Lumine could only smile helplessly... How... how silly. How ridiculous. She pressed a kiss to between his eyes--where she plunged her blade before, and got up to go get him some, noting to eat hers as quickly as possible, because knowing him, he'd probably inhale it in the fraction of a second if he had the chance.

#genshin impact #childe #lumine #chilumi #childe x lumine #luciana scarlet #request #bark writes #hurt and comfort #angst #angsty bark

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kaistarus · 3 years

Text

BitterSweet

Pairing: Itadori YuujiXReader

Words: 2.4K

Summary: How Yuuji makes his way into your life with brights smiles and shitty coffees

A/N: just in time for his b-day :3 i’ve loved this boi since before i even started jjk, so i’m glad I got to finally write for him lol

Masterlist

Bitter.

Bitter-with a hint of vanilla-was what you associated with Itadori Yuuji. His beaming smile at your first tutoring session forever connected with the pungent coffee he offered you.

You stared at the cup skeptically, “what is that?”

“Coffee?” Yuuji answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought every college student liked coffee.”

He wasn’t wrong, “but why did you get it?”

“Because you got up so early to help me,” Yuuji’s smile widened as he waved the drink around.

“Well I’m scheduled, so I would have been here whether you signed up or not.” You pointed out, glancing at the clock nearby that read too-early-in-the-morning and gestured for him to hand it over. He looked so pleased with himself that you were sure if he was a dog his tail would be going wild.

That was the only explanation you had for why you didn’t tell Yuuji it was the worst thing you’d ever tasted, hiding your full body cringes when he looked up after digging through his backpack.

“So, what are we doing first?” He asked excitedly, holding a creased notebook with uneven pages and a packed folder with papers hanging out. You stared at it wearily, but unfortunately he was far from the worst case scenario-a folder was huge compared to some you’d run into.

“I guess just give me your last exam and we’ll work from there.”

Yuuji chuckled awkwardly, fingering through the mass of papers in his folder before producing a packet marked heavily in red ink. You sighed at the single digit number at the top with a frowny face beside it.

Looked like you and Itadori Yuuji were going to be spending a lot of time together.

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

“You’re overthinking it, Yuuji.” You rubbed your temples having spent the last thirty minutes working through the same problem with no success. You were beginning to lose all hope.

“But it doesn’t make any sense,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “I’m supposed to figure out the probability of what movies were action movies, but how was she able to watch eighty movies in one week?”

“That isn’t the question.”

“It isn’t possible though!” He jabbed his eraser at the paper. “Did she sleep? I bet this Melissa chick fast forwarded or skipped.”

“Yuuji…”

“Can you go a full week without sleep? If she slept through some, are they part of the eighty?” He gripped his pink locks in frustration. “How do I know which she slept through? Is there a timeline?”

You deadpanned as he scanned the page stressfully like it was holding him hostage with its contents, “I don’t think they provide a timeline, no.”

“Sorry,” Yuuji sighed defeated, slouching forward to rest his chin on the library’s table. “I swear I’m trying.”

You leaned against your palm, eyes softening as he glared at the homework sheet under him. “Don’t apologize,” you slid the sheet from under his chin. “You’re my favorite session after all.”

“I am?” He perked up.

You rolled your eyes while circling a segment of the first word problem. “You can just make up wild backstories for each person. Melissa doesn’t have to sleep and can absorb movies abnormally fast or something.”

Yuuji blinked several times as his lips curved into a smile. “What about the guy who owns over four-hundred chickens?”

You forced down your own smile and shrugged, “he’s just lonely.”

Yuuji laughed, continuing down the page while spewing out ridiculous stories for the unfortunate names in the Stats problems. Your heart beat firm in your chest at how excited he was now while scanning the page. The ticking clock above you felt like a curse the closer it got to the end of your session.

You guessed you didn’t hate the mornings anymore if they were with him.

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

You tapped your pencil’s eraser impatiently on the booth's table. The smell of brewing dark roast drifting through the small cafe accompanied by the combined noises of workers preparing early risers beverages kept you from dozing off where you sat. Finally, after what felt like forever-probably a few minutes-Yuuji slid into the booth across from you and placed a mug in front of you.

“I can buy my own coffee, Yuuji.” You took the mug wearily, eyes darting around the near empty cafe you’d decided to meet at this week to ‘spice things up’ in his words. “People might get the wrong idea.”

“I didn’t think you cared about that stuff,” he said with a teasing smile that you returned with a half-assed glare. “It’s my payment for making me smarter.”

“I already get paid,” you pouted at the drink in your hands. “And you’re already smart. I just help you understand it.”

He didn’t respond and you glanced over, confused at his slack jaw expression.

“Oh,” he started shuffling through his backpack and you swore his cheeks were dusted pink. “Yeah, that-uh-makes sense.”

“Right,” you raised a brow at the weird response, but decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. There wasn’t enough time in the world to question every random thing Yuuji did.

“What’s on the schedule today boss?”

“Your exam’s tomorrow,” you said, pulling some sheets from your own backpack. “I printed your practice exam since I’m guessing you didn’t know it existed.”

“Hey,” he pouted. “I didn’t, but still...”

You snorted, sliding the packet across the table. “Just do the ones you can and I’ll help with the rest.”

He saluted you, unnecessarily scribbling his name across the top before getting to work-his tongue poking out adorably while his eyes scanned the words intensely. You felt your chest filling with an unfamiliar warmth as you watched him work and your hand drifted subconsciously toward the mug next to you.

You coughed, unprepared for the harsh flavor, only wiping the grimace off your face when Yuuji peered upward with an innocent head tilt. Your heart squeezed when you locked eyes too long with his dark hazel before a soft smile filtered onto his lips. You quickly dropped your stare, hoping that if you avoided looking at him you could avoid the weird feeling emotion rolling in your stomach as well.

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

You slouched up the library's stairwell, pushing through the second story’s double doors that led to your usual reserved tutoring table. The school really needed to push back your start time-seven in the morning was way too early for any college student to effectively teach or learn anything. The only person ridiculous enough to continuously sign-up for this time was-

You gripped your backpack straps as strong arms wrapped themselves around your midsection, picking you off the ground without warning. An unwanted frightened squeal left your lips before you recognized Yuuji’s laughter behind you and you relaxed as much as you could with him spinning you around in a library half-full of people.

“What are you doing?” You glared at him over your shoulder, cheeks warm from embarrassment at the scene he was causing.

“I got a C!”

You blinked several times before prying his arms off you, “are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he slid his backpack off, digging around before offering you a crumpled up packet with a seventy-four and a smiley written on top. You stared at it with a growing smile and without thinking too much you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yuuji, this is amazing!”

“I know,” he laughed, encircling your waist awkwardly given your backpack. “My roommate didn’t believe me. She’s doing my dishes for a week thanks to you.”

You weren’t sure you felt good about that after seeing his level of disorganization, but you smiled back anyway. “I’m so proud of you.”

Which was true. Your chest was swollen near bursting with pride for him and he’d only gotten a C. You told yourself it was because of your own skills as a tutor, but had you ever been this excited for someone?

“Hey, we should celebrate.” Yuuji stuffed the exam back into his bag. “Do you wanna-��

“Can you guys quiet down?” a guy with four crushed energy drink cans and food wrappers laying haphazardly around him asked. “I can’t focus and I just wanna go home, dude.”

“Sorry,” you whispered as warmth crept up your neck, turning Yuuji toward the exit as he stared at the guy in amazement. “We’ll leave you alone.”

“How long have you been here?” Yuuji asked in awe.

“Twenty-five… No, maybe eight...” The guy narrowed his eyes at the clock. “Time’s an illusion man.”

Yuuji nodded, impressed, shooting the guy a thumbs up as you pushed him toward the doors. Once in the stairwell you shot him a bright smile, “celebrate?”

He nodded excitedly. “We can get coffee!”

You turned away quickly to cover your panic, “or maybe anything else?”

Yuuji hummed, “I guess change can be nice.”

Your heart did a bizarre skip at the soft look in his eyes and you hurriedly started down the stairs without him. You spent more time that morning brushing off each reaction to Yuuji than enjoying your time with him. When everything was done you started thinking that you were having a hard time kidding even yourself.

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

You and Yuuji had been working in silence for the past twenty minutes-the longest he’d gone without needing help since he’d signed up for tutoring. It was a great sign that for some reason had your stomach knotting uncomfortably.

“You’re doing really good,” you complimented, admiring the delighted smile he gave you.

“Yeah, I used what you said about note taking for lecture.” He showed you his notes that were beyond chaotic, but apparently worked for him. “I actually understand what’s going on now.”

“That’s great,” you looked down at your Chem problems and attempted to keep your tone light. “You probably won’t need tutoring soon if this-.”

You heard his pencil snap and looked up to find him staring holes through his paper. He seemed tense as he pressed his pencil roughly against the notebook and you wondered what word problem would’ve caused that reaction.

“Are you stuck? Do you want me to-”

“I like you.”

You paused mid-reach for his textbook and locked eyes with him, his cheeks flaring up a dark pink. You opened and closed your mouth several times before mumbling out a weak, “what?”

“And I don’t want you to tutor me,” he looked frustrated with himself when you tilted your head at his contradictory statements. “I mean, I do, but not always. I just want to spend time with you and not talk about Stats because I hate Stats, but I really like you.”

That weird feeling was back. The one where your chest felt tight and your heart was beating too quickly and your stomach sort of felt like you might throw up, but all in a good way and that made everything weirder. It was a lot and not enough and that made you nervous.

“I don’t know, Yuuji.” You lied.

“That’s okay,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No pressure. I just sprung it on you, so I don’t blame you.”

You nodded, watching him dig around his bag for a second pencil while grumbling about organizing that you knew would never happen. Your heart ached in your chest as you watched him continue working casually, playing off whatever happened.

...but you weren’t sure you could do the same.

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

This was a terrible idea.

You swung your legs, perched atop a railing across from a building that Yuuji was currently taking his midterm. It didn’t matter how you got that information-accessing his schedule with the few perks your job gave you-all that mattered was you had five minutes to figure out what you were going to say to him.

This wouldn’t even be an issue if he hadn’t skipped tutoring a few days ago. You weren’t sure if he thought you hated him or if he was regretting confessing to you, but either way you needed to talk to him before your window closed.

If only any of the speeches you could think of weren’t absolutely humiliating. Three minutes now? That should be enough time for you to at least get the beginning-

“(Y/N)?”

Your head whipped to the side so fast you're sure you got whiplash, dumbfounded that Yuuji was standing there with his head cocked to the side.

“You finished early,” you said, face warming at his growing confusion. “Not that I would know that.”

“Right.” He gave you a once-over. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Uh,” your nose crinkled while searching for a reasonable excuse. You sighed when you came up empty. “You skipped tutoring.”

Yuuji’s eyebrow rose and he waved his hands around. “I accidentally slept through it.” Then you noticed the gears started turning in his head and you began shrinking in on yourself. “You came here because I skipped a lesson?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you were going to keep skipping,” you avoided his eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “It’s a bad habit.”

He knew you were full of shit. You could tell by the way he was forcing down a smirk when you stared at your feet. This would obviously be going so much better if you had those three minutes to prepare.

“Thanks for checking in,” he smiled, fishing around in his pocket and holding out his phone. “We should probably exchange numbers so you don’t have to go through all this trouble next time.”

You eyed the phone and rolled your eyes, “makes sense.”

He looked overjoyed when you took it from his hands. Your heart felt like it would pound out of your rib cage while he watched you create your contact, your fingers shaking slightly under the pressure.

“As an apology, I should probably take you to get food too.”

You paused, looking up at his hopeful gaze before nodding shyly. “That seems fair.”

The smile that overtook his face was probably the largest you’d ever seen and your heart nearly exploded when he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the building. You probably should have seen this coming the moment you began looking forward to your morning shifts with him. As he dragged you down the street you found yourself not caring where he took you-you knew you’d be happy as long as he was with you.

#itadori yuuji #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji fluff #yuji x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #itadori x y/n

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baeklooming-day · 3 years

Text

Carousel of daisies | Baekhyun

🪄 Summary: A ghost who’s prison has been a magical carousel loved by kids for long decades, a ghost who will be set free only if he meets his soulmate, his daisy.

🪄 Genre: Ghost!AU, Soulmate!AU, Magic!AU, fluff

🪄 Word Count: 6.8k

🪄 A/N: Thank you Baekhyun for inspiring me. I love you.

🪄 Listen to Amusement Park 🎠

Masterlist.

1904

Amusement parks were without a bigger question a beautiful and colorful place to be, full of bedazzling joy and kids’ laughter.

Some of them were the wandering type of an amusement park, appearing and disappearing again in a particular spot, just to offer their candies and lights to everyone in town to enjoy with their loved ones.

Some people liked to call these parks „the pop-up amusement parks”, and even though usually they would announce a similar visit to make all the parents in town aware in advance of the soon to be frolics of their kids in a complete awe of the many jolly attractions which they were always so eager to try for themselves, the so awaited and cherished amusement parks used to simply move in a week or even a few days later without even caring to leave a notice to let it be known that they would be soon taking all the fun away again, leaving it a mystery if they would come back, or if another wandering amusement park was about to visit in their place anytime soon.

Apparently a lot of families thought of it to appear to be an even greater issue for the amusement parks to disappear so suddenly and quickly as if under a magical spell than to visit in the first place, so with the passing of time lots of different complaints had been filled and submitted to the mayor’s office, demanding to simply do something about it, to find a good enough solution to prevent all the kids in town from throwing big tantrums as soon as they learned that the park left, and at the same time to give them something equally as merry and bright to enjoy themselves in their leisure time.

To gift all the kids something to give them joy whenever, everyday, something what would stay and never go away, something what would always be bound to just be there no matter what.

An own amusement park was unfortunately, but unquestionably out of the question. The reason was not because the town could not allow themselves an expense of a similar level, but because there wasn’t really anyone who was actually willing to dedicate their hours during the day to look after the place and all the possible guests and screaming kids.

A simple, traditional playground had been crossed out of the suggestions list as well, alone for the fact that there already was a plenty of new colorful playgrounds around the town, and an additional one would obviously not be the most desirable thing in place of the amusement parks which the kids loved so much.

So everyone continued thinking carefully, everyone was contemplating and asking themselves what thing could possibly be the best choice out of all ideas named previously. Or perhaps the most entertaining idea had not been listed just yet?

Some well founded features had been kept in mind throughout the whole process of weekly brainstorming between the citizens, and those were that the new entertainment for kids in town should be, before anything else, something very particular and timeless.

And just as they thought that there was not such thing when nobody seemed to be able to come up with a suitable idea, someone simply threw the totally random, yet immediately enthralling suggestion.

„Let’s build a carousel.”

Almost all pairs of eyes present by the discussion snapped into the direction of the owner of the voice at the same time.

„A carousel?” Asked someone at the other side of the long table where everyone else was sitting.

„Yes, indeed.” Answered the same smooth voice. „We have a lot of playgrounds around our town, and some of them do have carousels but these are not really what I have in mind.”

„Enlighten us.”

„Let’s make it a carousel worthy of those standing in the biggest amusement parks as of now. In that way, the kids would have a piece of an amusement park everyday, but it wouldn’t be that big of a struggle to keep it together than a whole park, you know what I wanna say?” The owner of the voice slowly leaned back in his seat, waiting for a response from his fellow citizens.

„Well...” Someone started. „I know what you mean. But is it even possible to pull this off? Those large carousels are almost an artwork themselves with how they look, in all these precise tiny details and colorings, let alone the mechanism inside them to make them move. Are you sure-”

„Yes.” Responded the smooth voice. „I want to do it. I need to do it.” A small pause. „For my son.”

„For your son?”

„Yes. For Baekhyun.”

„Awe, the little Baekhyun, always all over every carousel at playgrounds, right? Alright. I think your idea is good.” Said someone else, agreeing with the idea.

The young man smiled contentedly in his seat.

What wouldn’t a parent do for their own child in order to make them happy?

When the meeting ended, everyone who became enthralled with the idea rushed to prepare plans of realization of it almost right away.

The common excitement reached its peak, when many long months later after thoroughly planning and working on the project, it finally appeared, standing in the middle of the square in all its glory.

The carousel.

All the kids in town became immediately bewitched with the news, and as soon as they came to a view of the large, strikingly colorful and joyful merry-go-round displayed right before their big eyes, the cheering couldn’t find an end.

As good as every child fell in love with the newest attraction, but one particular little someone was markedly left in awe way more than all the other children.

A very little boy, with the softest locks of hair colored like pearls, was walking around the carousel with his little mouth agape, looking at it from every angle, kneeling on the ground in his lilac trousers to take a look at that joy from down below.

„Do you like it, Baekhyun?”

„Oh, yes!” The little boy exclaimed. „I love it, dad!” He quickly pulled himself up and approached his smiling father in jumping steps. „I loooooove it! I love it so much I wanna stay in that carousel forever!”

The young man let out a soft laugh. „Be careful what you wish for, my dear Baekhyun. It might really come true, sometimes differently than you originally wanted.”

Baekhyun looked up, with his brown eyes seemingly confused.

„But talking is not what we are here for today, is it?” The man said briefly, putting his hand on Baekhyun’s little head, gently caressing his pearly hair. „Do you want to make the honors of the first official ride on the carousel?” He asked, a wide smile making its way back on his lips as soon as he noticed the unduly frolic expression on his son’s face.

„Yes! Yes, I do want to!”

2004

The weather was outstandingly cold that afternoon, significantly much more colder than you were able to recall remembering the whole past week.

It was very, very early but awaited spring which has finally fallen on the quiet town, and if one was observant enough, tiny and green leaf blossoms which were just about to start blooming sometime soon, as if still too timid to break through their delicate shell and spread all over the branches of the trees soaking them in green, could be seen from a distance.

The afternoon, just like the whole day, has been cold, but as if to make up for the not so particularly pleasant temperature the sun was gently throwing its reassuring and comforting gold gleams and twinkles everywhere you could look, making a soothing, almost idyllic atmosphere at the square which merely appeared before your big curious eyes.

It was the first day when the sky was not all covered with weighing dark clouds, so you were continuously emanating with clear joy knowing that even if it took you the longest time ever, you had convinced your mom to take you to the square to play in the afternoon.

And now you were finally out there, letting out a sudden squeak of joy as soon as you came to a view of what you have been longing for ever since the first time as you heard your grandmother mentioning it at their home.

The beautiful, sparkling carousel full with colors, lights, and children’s happy giggles as it moved around spinning their world on that jolly merry-go-round ride.

“Mom!” You called out to your mom with as much volume as a four-year-old little girl could master, noticing how she was left far behind you because of how slowly she proceeded to walk. “Mom, mom, mommy! Look! Walk faster, mommy!” You continued to yell.

“Heavens, Y/N.” She exhaled, shivering a little as the cold breeze blew in her smooth face. “I am not used to these temperatures, not used at all.” She added under her breath, but not loud enough for you to hear.

You gave her a questioning look with your dazzly eyes. “Are you cold, mommy?” You asked, scooting a little closer to her and wrapping your small arms around her left leg.

“Yes honey, mommy is cold. Look-” She bent down to match your level, taking your little hands in hers. “Do you feel it? Cold as ice!” She said with a smile audible in her soft voice as she watched your eyes sparkling even more.

“But I am immune to coldness!” You exclaimed proudly.

“You are my little ice queen, yeah?” She soothed the wild silky locks on your small head, messy from the wind and from running. “But I feel like I will freeze if I stay like this any while longer.” She looked to the side, her eyes becoming instantly as big and sparkling as yours when she noticed a lovely coffee and tea house with people lining up to the entrance.

Your mom said something to you then, but as much as all your focus has usually always been on your mom, you did not hear a thing whilst your attention was brought somewhere else, your eyes being glued to something what seemed like only visible to you.

People were walking past him, not giving even one look, as if he was invisible for them, whilst in the background right behind him there was the colorful object of your awe, the carousel, spinning around with other laughing kids.

He looked as if he was frozen in a motion scene, just standing there calmly and holding a flower. He was wearing a sweater in a dark shade of teal, with two visible white stripes and blue and orange flowers at the front. His hair was of a color equivalent to a real pearl, his loose light locks looking as if they radiated some mysterious kind of gleam from within, just as if made of stardust.

The boy looked at you, blinking slowly, and you looked back, deciding to send him a candy smile as you felt some weird sort of warmth filling your young heart the longer your bright eyes stayed locked with his dark ones.

You were being pulled to the carousel and to the mystical boy with pearl colored hair, or at least that was how you felt when you suddenly let go of your mom’s hand, feeling a peculiar need to run in his direction.

But before you could do so, you felt your mom’s still very cold hand clasping around your own. “Y/N, did you hear what I just said? I said that I will go really, really quickly to buy a hot steaming coffee to warm myself up, alright? You will be a good little girl and will stay by the carousel until mommy comes back, will you?” She said. “You can already get on, I will be back before the ride ends, alright?”

You only nodded eagerly, earning a comforting smile from your mom as she dashed to the coffee place which was just two steps away from where you two were standing.

You quickly turned your little head to look at the boy again, but the moment your eyes landed where you saw him just seconds ago, you immediately noticed that he was gone, nowhere to be seen, as if disappeared in thin air. Nonetheless, you decided to walk up to the carousel, not wanting to believe that this mystical person wouldn’t appear before you in a minute again.

Baekhyun immediately felt this too, in the moment you came into his vision. He would lie if he claimed that he was not taken by a complete surprise as the unforeseen wave of peculiar warmth rushed to fill his ghostly heart. There was a time when he longed for this particular feeling to find him, there was a time when he would stay alert every minute of the day and look for you himself as much as the unbreakable bond which held him close to the carousel allowed him to.

It has been one hundred years since the carousel was built.

And it has already been eighty two years since he died.

Nobody would even ever suspect that the beloved and only son of the man who gave the town that marvelous, magical carousel, would leave at the young age of just twenty two, one windy day in 1922.

Baekhyun himself wasn’t too content to recall the events which took place in that memorable for his loved ones year. The mere thought which flashed through his mind the moment everything went dull, was his careless childish wish from when he was just four years old and went to see the newly acquired carousel with his father.

When he said that he wanted to stay in that carousel forever.

His wish has been granted to him, what he learned as he woke up in the carousel, being almost violently pulled back to it every time he tried to leave, as if some angry, invisible, formless force was clasping its claws around his limbs to send him flying back to the twinkling merry-go-round which became his mocking prison.

There was one way to break this unusual link and to set himself free.

In order to be able to perform that, he needed to meet his soulmate.

He didn’t know how he even knew that, but right after his awakening in the carousel, this thought was one of the first things which appeared between his returning memories of his life which he left behind way too soon for the looks of it.

Baekhyun was full of hope at the beginning, but as the following years flew by and his soulmate didn’t appear, he started to lose the last sprinkles of hope that he had left.

That was the reason why he was feeling so dazed and confused, so flabbergasted and refusing to believe what was occurring around him the moment you looked at him with your sparkling eyes and smiled at him warmly.

He knew it was you.

His soulmate.

The happiness was unfortunately soon replaced by a bittersweet feeling of disappointment as soon as he realized that standing there and smiling at him just a few steps away was a little girl, around four years old.

Even if you found him now, you were much too young to fulfill his floating dream of love and freedom, and he was perfectly aware of that.

He knew that he would have to wait for you even longer, until you became older and could love him properly.

But that didn’t necessarily mean that he couldn’t talk to you now already, did it?

Baekhyun swirled the little daisy flower in his fingers, taking a decisive step next to you, the little girl with sparkling eyes.

You made a jumping beeline to the colorful carousel, your mouth forming a little “o” at the view of shining figures of white horses which were spinning around happily.

You scrunched your little nose unamused, as you noticed all the horses being occupied, the ride not looking like it was about to end too soon as well.

“Why is everything taken?” You asked grumpily, throwing longing glimpses at the carousel.

“Do you want to ride on the merry-go-round too?” Asked an unfamiliar, velvet like voice coming from beside you.

Your little head instantly snapped to the direction of the sound, your eyes looking up to meet those of the owner of that melodic voice speaking to you.

“Oh!” You exclaimed. “Oh! You are the starry mister!” You said in awe, pointing your little finger at Baekhyun, examining his face.

He let out a soft chuckle, kneeling beside you to be on your eye level. “Starry?” He asked.

“Your hair looks like stars! So pretty!” You said, reaching out your small hand to sloppily caress his pearl locks in a childish manner.

Baekhyun felt another wave of warmth flowing through his foggy ghost heart, feeling a loving smile spreading on his lips. Seeing your natural childish curiosity and amazement, he was happy that he could witness it when you were still a little innocent child, yet to learn lots about life.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“My name is Y/N!” You replied joyfully. “And you?”

“Baekhyun.”

“So you are the magical Baekhyun.” You stated.

“Magical? Do you like magic?” Baekhyun asked.

“Yes, I do! And I like flowers too!” You answered.

“Flowers? Which flowers do you like?” He asked you another question, before looking at the white daisy which he has been holding in his hand all that time. “Do you like daisies, Y/N?

“I like daisies!” You replied. “And I like you, Baekhyun! You are nice and you have pretty hair!” You added, giving him a candy grin.

“Is that so?” Baekhyun couldn’t help it but mirror your genuine smile. “Will you be my daisy?” He asked, holding up the flower for you to see.

Your sparkling eyes fell on the little daisy immediately. “Yes, I will be your daisy!” You reached out your arm, squealing in joy when Baekhyun placed the small flower in your open hand.

“This is a promise, okay?” He said.

“Of course!” You nodded in agreement, even though you couldn’t understand it just yet.

The little magical moment was interrupted though, when suddenly the familiar voice of your mother filled the air, reaching your ears.

“Y/N! There you are!”

“Mommy, are you warm now?”

“Yes, I bought a coffee. Look!” Your mom happily held up a steaming cup of coffee, the steam visible as a faint white cloud in the chilly air. “Have you been standing here the whole time? Didn’t you want to get on the carousel?” She asked a little bewildered.

“I was talking to Baekhyun!” You said smiling.

If your mom looked bewildered before, now she must have looked totally puzzled. “Baekhyun? Who’s Baekhyun?” She asked.

“My new friend with hair that looks like stars!” You said, but then you knitted your eyebrows. “Mommy, he is standing right next to me!”

Your mom’s eyes looked at you, then at the air beside you, before she let out a deep breath and gently took your hand.

“They told me that having imaginary friends is normal at that age, yeah, they definitely told me that.” She mumbled to herself whilst sipping on her hot coffee, leading you away from the carousel.

You quickly turned around to have one last look at Baekhyun, still standing by the spinning carousel with his hands in his pockets, his eyes following your small figure. “Bye, Baekhyun! I will come back!” You yelled, waving him goodbye with your right hand.

“Y/N, stop it! There is none there! And let’s hurry, the wind is becoming worse, ugh!” Said your mom.

Baekhyun did not move, he stood like that as long as you were still visible in the distance.

He smiled.

Of course your mother could not see him. You were usually starting to lose the ability to see beyond living beings as you were becoming older, and little kids couldn’t tell the difference between a living person and a ghost.

Baekhyun put his hand on his head where your small fingers touched his hair, smiling softly.

“Until we meet again, my daisy.”

2021

“Woah!” Said your friend, Lorena, whilst whirling around and taking in the blooming sight of lovely cherry trees being planted everywhere you could lay your eyes. “You weren’t lying, Y/N, this town legitimately looks like out of a Disney film.” She added, stopping right next to you and your other friend, Lily.

“I told you multiple times.” You said with an elfin sneer.

“You did, but when was the last time you actually visited this place?” Asked Lorena. “When you were a toddler?”

You gave her a little judging look, only for the three of you to burst out in genuine laughter not even two seconds later.

You were nearing your 21st birthday with every following day, and because this year was of a particular meaning to you for many different reasons, you decided to spend it with your two closest friends in the charming small town where your grandparents lived, and recall the memories of when you were playing there as a little child one day in early spring.

But it was not the only reason why you were walking through the old climatic streets with buildings covered in green ivy just now.

As of lately, you have been having peculiar dreams.

You never linked any meaningful value to your dreams, merely because you just didn’t believe that there was anything extraordinary to that, a dream was after all just what your brain went through to “filter” itself at night, right?

But this time was quite different. You kept having weird blurry dreams where the only thing you could really make out of it was a colorful merry-go-round full of warm lights on the background of blurred delicate shades of gold and yellow. Sometimes it was the only object visible, but sometimes you could also see something else.

In the first dream in which you witnessed it, you couldn’t really tell what it was. The figure was standing before the spinning merry-go-round, looking as if painted with delicate, but messy brush strokes on a flawless canvas, forming a mix of dark and light colors. Knowing you, you just decided to completely ignore it, not thinking too much about it the next morning when you woke up. But as the days passed, you kept seeing that mysterious figure by the merry-go-round, with the difference that with every following dream it was becoming more clear.

More clear, but not clear enough to tell every little detail. All you could really tell was that it was clearly a person, just standing there, holding something in their hand, whilst their hair seemed to be glowing under the lights of the slowly spinning carousel behind them.

When these dreams have not left you alone for a whole month, you finally decided to visit the small town you knew from your early childhood, for it was the only place you knew which you could connect with the mystical merry-go-round you saw in your dreams every night as soon as you closed your eyes.

“Ey Lily, do you think there is a Starbucks somewhere?” Asked Lorena.

“I don’t know, but I saw a really pretty coffee place somewhere as we walked here.” Answered Lily, brushing her a little too long lilac dyed bangs away from her forehead. “It looked really old school, if you ask me. Oh, look, it’s there!” She pointed to a small building between the pink cherry trees, its walls seeming to be shimmering in a beautiful rose gold color.

“Oh my, it’s even cooler than Starbucks! Let’s go in there. Y/N?” Lorena turned around to look at you, but you couldn’t hear a word she just said.

Your sparkling eyes were glued to the one and only thing standing majestically in the middle of the square you knew so well from your memories and dreams.

The carousel.

It has not changed, it has not changed even a little from what you could tell, still being as colorful and merry as the last time when you saw it all those long years ago.

There were kids spinning around and laughing, other people just walking by, the scene awakening some kind of nostalgia inside you, knowing that this view was indeed very, very familiar to you, bringing back the events of the idyllic year 2004.

You were left there in awe, admiring the happy sight, when out of nowhere you felt a little wave of a warm feeling, as if comforting warmth flowing through your heart.

You felt your eyes widening a little, when in the moving crowd of other people you noticed a person, standing still and looking straight at you, with locks of very light, glistening hair.

Subconsciously, your feet took one, two steps ahead in the direction of that mystical person, feeling the peculiar need to just run to them.

But just as you took another step closer and wanted to look more closely who it was, the person disappeared, as if instantly brushed away with a magical spell.

You stopped, confused, looking around to see if there was anyone with such a light hair color, really resembling a pearl.

But there was none, no matter how carefully you looked.

“Y/N! Where are you going? Did you hear what we just said?” Asked Lorena, placing her hand on your shoulder, looking a little bewildered. “Left unattended you just start wandering off, just like when we were in school!” She paused, before talking again. “So listen, apparently there is a newly built game arcade just around the corner, how cool is that? And apparently, they have the old school Super Mario there! So Lily suggested that we go get a coffee at that pretty store there, and then we go to the arcade seeing that the night is falling already-” She took out her phone, checking the time. “Is it a good plan or is it a super good plan?” She asked joyously, looking at you.

But you were only half listening, your eyes still looking for the person with pearly hair between the people. “Y/N?” Lorena started again, her soft voice sounding a little concerned once she noticed your dazed expression. “What are you looking at?”

You brought your attention back to your friend, looking at her with two big question marks visible in your sparkling eyes. “I just saw someone. Someone familiar.” You replied, letting out an audible gasp when once again, before the merry-go-round, you saw him.

Now you could see clearly what the mystifying person looked like.

It was a boy. More or less around your own age. He was wearing a dark teal sweater with a floral pattern on it, and his hair was resembling a shining pearl. The soft looking locks of light hair were sliding gently on his forehead as he ever so lightly tilted his head to the left, his mystical eyes not leaving yours for even a split second.

“He’s standing right there, by the merry-go-round.” You said quietly, pointing your finger to the said direction.

Lily and Lorena both followed the direction where you pointed, but soon ended up giving each other, and yourself, puzzling looks.

“Um, Y/N, boo, there is none standing by the merry-go-round.” Said Lily. “Everyone is walking, besides the kids playing there are also going home already.”

You looked at Lily in disbelief. “But Lily, he IS there, the boy with-” You paused, feeling the already familiar warmth spilling on your heart the moment the boy smiled at you. “The boy with hair like pearls.” You said, just a little above a whisper.

“I really don’t see anyone like that, Y/N.” Said Lorena, now gently taking your hand and pulling you away from the carousel. “Let’s go and have a drink, okay?”

You nodded faintly, letting your friends take you away to the coffee place mentioned earlier.

There was no way that none else beside you could see the boy with pearly hair, whilst he was clearly just standing there in one point, not moving even an inch and instead just his eyes being fixated on one point in front of him.

On you.

He had this undeniably peculiar aura to him, he didn’t seem like just any regular person you could meet around on a daily basis, not even addressing the obvious until now fact, that everybody else genuinely seemed to not be able to see him standing there.

You watched the sky through the large glass window inside the lovely coffee place, as it became always darker and darker as the night was falling above the town.

You were holding your half empty, but still steaming, dark mocha in your small hands, contemplating whether your eyes started playing tricks on you or if you indeed saw what you saw just moments ago.

“So, girls.” Started Lorena, as soon as she finished her own cup of coffee, wiping away the cream from her nude lip. “Seriously, let’s go to that game arcade. It has been so long since we all played something old school like that.”

“I told you, my ideas are always the best.” Said Lily. “Y/N?”

You were just about to give your friend an answer, when briefly you caught a glimpse of a pearly head outside by the merry-go-round.

You flinched immediately, taking the last sip of your mocha and quickly standing up from the table. “Listen, you two can go ahead to the arcade, I really need to check something first. I will join you there later, okay?” You said, not even waiting for your friends’ reply and running out of the building.

“I’m a little worried about our Y/N, to be honest.” Said Lorena. “She literally looked as if she saw a ghost.” She added.

“Me too, if I’m being honest.” Said Lily. “But something tells me it isn’t anything bad. Let’s just go to the arcade and wait for Y/N like she told us to do. If she doesn’t show up within twenty minutes we will call her or just come back here.” She added, finishing her own drink.

By the time your friends left the coffee place and directed themselves to the game arcade, you were already circling the still illuminated, but completely quiet by now, merry-go-round. You were more than totally sure that you saw him standing just here again, but by the time you got out of the store and reached the middle of the square, he was nowhere to be seen.

You sighed in disbelief, running your fingers through your long silky locks.

The otherwise full of beans big square, was now completely quiet and empty under the dark blue night sky, all covered in twinkling stars creating a real magical atmosphere.

The majestic carousel, the object of your complete acclaim when you were just four years old, was still wholly illuminated and bright presenting itself before your eyes.

“Why is everything so quiet.” You said quietly to yourself.

“Last time everything was way too crowded, wasn’t it?” Said a velvet like voice, right next to you.

You flinched, startled a little by the sudden unfamiliar voice.

Or was it really unfamiliar?

Your head instantly snapped to the direction of the sound, making your jaw drop in awe, disbelief, and total surprise all at the same time.

Right before your eyes, there was the mystical boy with shining pearly hair and chocolate brown eyes which looked at you in a longing way.

“You are-” You started, still flabbergasted. “You are the boy with hair like pearls.”

“Pearls?” Asked the boy. “But I clearly remember you used to call it hair like stars.” He said softly.

Your eyes widened a little. “What? Wait.” You paused. “Do I know you?” You asked.

“You might know my name but you do not remember the owner.” He replied.

What on earth?

You were left a little, and by a little you wanted to say a lot, dazed and confused by his words, so as silly as it might have sounded you decided to change the subject by asking him a random question. “Um-” You started. “I saw the number 1922 engraved in the carousel, was it the year it was built?” You asked, looking at him with your sparkling eyes.

Her eyes are still as sparkling as I remember.

“No.” The boy replied, his voice smoother than anything else you have ever heard. “It was built in 1904.” He added.

“Woah.” You said in a genuine amazement. “Respect to those who take care of it, it looks as if it was newly built. But why is there 1922 then? Shouldn’t it be 1904 if it was the year it was built?” You asked, tracing the fine lines of detailed colorful engravings on the carousel.

“Do you know the story of this carousel?” The boy asked.

You looked at him, shaking your head, a sign for him to continue speaking.

“One of the noblemen of this town built this carousel for his only child in 1904.” He started. “1922 was the year when his son passed away.” He said in a quiet tone.

A little frown fell on your scarlet lips. “How old was he?” You asked.

“Twenty two.”

“Just one year older than me.” You muttered to yourself. “What a waste. He had his whole life ahead of him. What was his name?” You said.

“His name was Baekhyun.” The boy replied softly.

You paused for a brief moment, frozen.

Baekhyun?

You were sure you have already heard this name somewhere.

When you didn’t reply, the boy continued talking. “This carousel was of a great meaning to him.” He said. “And during spring time, he liked to collect daisies on the hill over there when he was little.” He added, looking at you warmly.

“Daisies?” You asked, feeling as if some old, forgotten memories were coming back to you the moment he said the name of these little flowers.

“Yes, daisies.” He said, a small smile falling on his soft lips. “Do you like daisies?”

“Um, yes, I do like daisies.” You replied slowly, not knowing what was the peculiar feeling which has flown over you just now.

The boy took a decisive step closer to you, soon you felt his cold hand very gently taking yours, not breaking eye contact. “Will you be my daisy?”

And then you felt it, everything coming back as if in a flash. The cold early spring day in 2004, you with your silky locks disheveled by the wind, the beautiful carousel, and the ghostly, mystical boy holding a single daisy, invisible to all the people around, but to you.

And then you also remembered it.

You remembered it when that boy with hair like pearls told you his name.

His name was Baekhyun.

“But, but-” You started, looking at him with big eyes. “No, this is impossible. You look-” You paused, breathing in and out. “You look just the same as then.” You were still feeling the cold coming from his soft hand, you gently squeezed it as if to prove to yourself that it was not a dream. “Could you really be the same Baekhyun who I have met here all those years back?” You asked in disbelief, your sparkling eyes twinkling in the moonlight as you looked at the mystical boy before you. “Could you be the same son of the nobleman who built this carousel? The same Baekhyun who died in 1922?” You asked in a quieter tone, not believing the sight before your eyes. “Is this really not a dream?”

She remembers.

“I have waited seventeen years for you to find me again, my daisy.” Baekhyun’s chocolate eyes were now just as sparkling as yours, little happy twinkles dancing in them as he reached his other hand to very gently cup your cheek, bringing your face closer to his.

You just looked at him in awe, the familiar feeling of warmth filling your heart spilling all over you again as he tenderly placed his lips on yours.

The moment your lips touched, you immediately noticed that his equally cold hands and lips started becoming warm, living, losing the ghostly cold they held before.

Without even being aware of this, your own free hand circled around Baekhyun’s neck, letting him kiss you in the sweetest way possible and letting yourself kiss him back.

The moment his lips left yours, you suddenly heard a loud sound similar to that of a breaking glass somewhere near the carousel.

With your arm still around him, you watched as Baekhyun’s eyes fell on the carousel, or more like on the ground next to it. You looked at the ground flabbergasted yourself, when laying there, completely broken, were immense chains made of the thickest glass.

The wave of warmth flew over you one more time when Baekhyun turned his head to look at you again, a light scarlet shade starting to color his once milky and bloodless cheeks.

Your fingers lingered a brief while before gently placing themselves on his cheek, the previous cold being completely gone, instead you felt the warmth coming from within his skin.

Just as if he was wholly alive again.

He appeared to become aware of this too, when he placed his own hand over your small one, feeling his lightly flushed cheek. “Am I-” He started in disbelief, his chocolate eyes widening. “Am I alive?”

You yourself were left in a complete awe even more than before, being able to do just as much as to look him in those brown eyes and nod eagerly, repeatedly.

It was crazy, the whole day in this small town full of magic, and you were more than sure that the most people would never believe it or simply give you stupid looks.

You were more than sure that none would be in the position to actually understand the unusual events which took place by the old merry-go-round, but you wouldn’t be too surprised, because you couldn’t really understand them yourself.

All you knew was the warmth which filled your heart always more and more, the longer your sparkling eyes stayed locked with Baekhyun’s brown ones, and the longer you stayed locked in his warm embrace.

Your eyes traveled over every little detail of his handsome face, until your fingers gently brushed away his pearly bangs which fell on his eyes.

He was perfect.

“So” You started softly. “I will be happy to be your daisy.” You said.

And you could swear, that this particular smile which appeared on his lips was the most enthralling thing in the whole universe.

“You will?” He asked, smile audible in his velvet like voice.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

You stood there, softly smiling at each other, living in the moment of a magical marvel.

All you could see in that beautiful while was all the life which was coming back to Baekhyun’s eyes, the eyes which were lifeless and foggy just moments ago.

What you failed to see were your two best friends, Lorena and Lily, standing just some feet away, observing the lovely scene in awe.

“Do you see that, Lily?” Asked Lorena. “I would suggest you and me both make an appointment by the eye doctor, that boy with hair like pearls or whatever is REAL. Y/N really saw him there, but we did not?” She said, rubbing her eyes as if to make sure that she was seeing right. “And damn, he is handsome. Holy freak, they are both beautiful. My eyes start to hurt from all this beauty.”

Lily let out a genuine laugh. “You know what, Lori, let’s just go. Something tells me that those two have a lot of stuff to catch up on.” She said, taking Lorena’s hand to gently pull her away.

“Buuuut-” Said Lorena. “I really wanna know who he is.”

“An old friend?” Said Lily, whilst leading the still talking Lorena away.

Meanwhile, you and Baekhyun were still standing in the same position next to the colorful merry-go-round.

“You know, I actually never got to get on the merry-go-round.” You said.

“Well then-” Said Baekhyun, throwing a quick look at all the empty white horses reflecting the magical lights of the carousel before looking back at you. “Do you want to go on a merry-go-round ride with me?” He asked, a little pending audible in his velvet voice.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” You replied.

If you thought that looking at the carousel alone was a magical sight, then you surely felt as if you were in another magical dimension whilst you were spinning around on one of those snow white horses with Baekhyun right next to you.

The moment was even more magical, when a very soft and pretty melody reached your ears, sounding as if it was coming from inside of the spinning carousel.

Merry-go, merry-go, merry-go-round...

Beautiful you on the merry-go-round.

The lights of the merry-go-round have indeed always been beautiful and bedazzling, but right in that moment, that warm night, nothing could be more brighter than the twinkles in your sparkling eyes, and Baekhyun’s chocolate brown ones as you spun around for the tenth time.

It was perfect.

Author’s End Note: Thank you for reading! Don’t forget to REBLOG if you liked it and leave me your opinions! It helps to improve lots! I know that the ending might not be what everyone likes, but it seemed right to me to end the story in that and not another way. I really hope you enjoyed this, and seeing that this is the first story in 2021, I wish you all the luck and wonders in this year, and I genuinely hope it will be full of magic!!

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minijenn · 3 years

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KH Writing Comm #1

Because I couldn’t think of a better title hhhh. Anyway my first and only writing comm for this round is done, for @rosie-drawss, who wanted a potential AUish situation for while Sora is on the run in Keys, where the dumbass gets his claws stuck in a tree and who should happen upon him but Riku! With that, you’d think this would be a funny drabble, but you know me, everything I touch turns to angst/hurt/comfort. Anyway with that outta the way, enjoy!

***

His latest attempt at hunting has, unsurprisingly, gone horribly wrong. Desperate for any potential food he could get his hands on, he decided to chase after a passing squirrel, eventually tailing it to a tall oak tree in the middle of the woods. Taking a swing at it had been his main mistake; for in trying to strike the escaping creature, the only thing he did manage to get were his claws squarely stuck in the side of the tree instead. And that’s exactly where they’ve stubbornly decided to stay.

Sora lets out another frustrated groan, putting all of his waning strength into tearing his claws out of the bark they’re embedded into, all the way down to his knuckles. The claws have already proven themselves to be nothing more than a nuisance, but this takes that annoyance to an all new level.

“Well at least this can’t get any worse...” he mutters dryly to himself. Only for things to, of course, end up getting worse all the same.

“Sora…?”

He gasps, spinning around as much as he’s able to. His hand remains wedged into the tree, despite his initial, panicked effort to pry it free. When that doesn’t work, he finds he’s still hopelessly stuck, standing just a few short feet away… from Riku.

For what feels like years, neither of them speak. Rike’s eyes are wide as he stares straight at Sora, who makes another frantic, useless attempt at loosening himself from the tree. His rising dread skyrockets, however, when he sees Riku take his first step across the clearing toward him.

“S-stay back!” he warns, his voice tight and terrified. Riku ignores that warning, however. Because after months of painful, prolonged separation, he can barely stand even the short distance remaining between them now. Even if it's a distance that Sora seems dead set on maintaining. “I-I’m serious, Riku! Don’t come any closer!”

Riku finally stops his approach at this, his eyes narrowing as he tries to get a better view of his best friend in the low light of the forest. “Why not?” The question comes out cold, unreadable, and quiet. And it shakes Sora to his very core.

“Because…” he sighs tiredly, glancing away in shame. “I… I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You don’t want to…” Riku trails off in disbelief. His hands clench into firsts at his sides as he thinks about how much Sora already has hurt him. As he thinks about all of the pain and worry his lies and his deceit and his very disappearance alone has caused him since this disaster began. He nearly calls him out for it too, nearly scolds him harshly for his dishonestly, nearly lets him have it with every ounce of authority he has as his leader.

But then, he takes another look at Sora. And he sees exactly what his time alone on the run has done to him. His clothes are tattered and torn, he’s missing a shoe, and his now mostly white hair is an untamed mess, to say the least. He’s also thinner, noticeably thinner as his jacket seems to limply hang off his clearly starving body, his visible skin covered in dirt and marred with unhealed, untreated cuts and scars. His largely golden eyes are wide and wild, filled with fear so raw and unshakable Riku can barely stand the sight of it. And as he takes in that fearful stare, that’s when he finally starts to realize--

That right now, what Sora needs is a friend far more than leader.

“I just… thought you might need a hand,” Riku finally says, a weak bout of humor that’s all but lost on Sora given his current predicament. He continues struggling to pull his claws free, a sharp hiss of pain escaping him as he bends his trapped fingers the wrong way. But he can’t stop, he can’t let Riku reach him, he can’t go back, not now, not ever.

“Sora,” Riku begins, now only a few feet away. He slowly reaches a hand out, one that Sora swiftly shoves away as he lets out another frightened hiss.

“G-go away!” he cries, tears already brimming in his eyes. “Just leave me alone! I wish you’d all just stop pretending like you want to help me, because I know you don’t!”

Riku stills at this, completely taken aback by what he’s hearing. By the vicious lies the Organization has no doubt led him to believe, whatever they might have said to him to make him think his friends hate him instead of wanting him as they all so desperately do. Even so, he decides to venture the obvious question all the same. “What makes you think that?”

Sora’s still resisting against the tree as he chokes out a weak, miserable sob. “You’re better off without me. You all are. I mean, w-why would you ever want a failure like me back…?”

Riku can’t bear it any longer. He takes Sora’s free hand, and though he freezes up in fear, he doesn’t immediately pull it away. Not when he meets the steady sincerity reflecting in Riku’s calming teal eyes. “We--I want you back, Sora.” His voice is barely above a whisper as it fuels Sora with something he hasn’t felt in such a long time: hope. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else… I always have, and, no matter what happens to you... I always will…”

“R-Riku…” Sora mutters brokenly, tears streaking down his cheeks. He finds his body easing up when Riku softly slides his other hand over his own, the hand that’s still stuck in the side of the tree.

Riku calmly quiets him when he slips out another feeble sob, his grip on his hand secure, yet gentle. “Let’s get you out of there, ok?” he offers with a small, encouraging smile. And after weeks of struggling to trust anyone, even himself, Sora finally decides to trust Riku again, just as he always used to trust him before.

He’s surprised at how quickly and easily Riku does it. While he couldn’t get his claws to so much as budge before, Riku guides his hand back in just the right way that they slide right out of the tree’s surface without so much as an ounce of pain to speak of. As soon as he’s freed, Riku takes a half a step away from him, probably expecting him to run or try to escape. Yet to his credit, that’s not at all what Sora does. Instead, he collapses to his knees, his head bowed as he begs his best friend for forgiveness he knows he doesn’t deserve in the slightest. Not after everything he’s done.

“I-I’m sorry,” he whimpers shamefully, his tear-soaked face buried in his hands. “I’m so, so sorry… I should have just told you, right from the start, I should have let you help me like you said you wanted to, I should have-”

“What you should have done doesn’t matter anymore,” Riku assures him. He places his hands against his arms, guiding him back up to stand, though he maintains a loose, loving hold on him all the same. “All that matters now is what I’m going to do. And what I’m going to do is find a way to save you from this, no matter what it takes. I won’t let them or anyone else take you away from me. Not now, or ever again. I promise.”

Part of Sora, the part that’s been languishing in the lies and fear the Organization has so deeply planted inside his heart, struggles to believe that promise, struggles to comprehend the idea that he can ever be safe, that he can ever be free again. But another, stronger part of him knows that if there’s anyone worth believing, if there’s anyone worth trusting with every fiber of his weakened, aching heart, if there’s anyone capable of putting the broken pieces of that heart back together again… it’s Riku.

“Ok,” is all he says as he lightly leans against his best friend for support. As he gives him his unspoken, yet solemn permission to follow through on his promise, to let him be the one to fix all everything that’s broken about him. Riku smiles, lacing their fingers together and not even minding Sora’s claws in the slightest as he does. Really, he can’t bring himself to mind much at all right now; not when he’s finally found the lost piece of his own heart he’s been so sorely missing.

“Come on, Sora,” he says softly as he begins to lead him back to the ship he came in. As they both take their first steps toward the future they both want to have with each other, a future they’re both willing to fight against even Xehanort himself to find. Just as long as they’re finding their way to it together this time. “Let’s go home.”

Commissions are CLOSED

#jen writes #commissions #writing comm #keys to the kingdom #kingdom hearts #sora #riku #soriku #kh fanfic #drabble prompt #disney #square enix

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gothhisoka · 3 years

Text

𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖞

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 18- 𝔞 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Ships: Chrollo x Reader, Leorio x Kurapika, Hisoka x Illumi

Genre: romance, dark academia, royalcore, university AU

Word count: 3k

Background: This is from my (gothhisoka) fanfic on Wattpad and AO3 called Hunter University. It is Chrollo x OC, but I decided to change it around for Tumblr. Both Chrollo and y/n are hiding things from each other but are both feeling the same attraction. A masquerade ball is held at your university. You don’t know if he even wants to dance with you, but apparently he does. He wants to do even more than that.

Tags: Fluff, first kiss, sfw

The masquerade hall was astounding. The high stone walls were adorned with scarlet silk banners. Golden fabric streamers hung from every banister of the second-level balconies. As in the entrance, symbols of cherubs and mythical creatures were splashed across the ceiling in a dizzying array. The light was dim, for all the chandeliers were set low in the traditional style of Venetian masquerades. Candelabras were scattered on every table and upon every wall.

Symphonic music was emanating from the open stage in the front of the room. A live orchestra was playing a gentle concerto as the students poured in. It was only 7:10, so not many were on the floor. The true dancing would start in another couple of minutes.

It was a scene out of a fairytale. The hundreds of breathtakingly dressed students only added to the general fervor of it all.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Chrollo said as he looked towards you. It was unclear whether he was talking about the room or how you looked tonight. Your bright eyes shone out underneath a bronze mask, which was catching the candlelight within its shiny material.

Still entranced, you were led by Chrollo to the table they had reserved. The troupe followed behind, engrossed in their conversation while you both remained in your own little world. He put his hand on the small of your back, simply aching to touch you once again. The feeling was mutual.

On the table, there were glasses already set up accompanied by a lavish bouquet of flowers. Uvogin pulled out a couple of bottles of champagne he clearly swiped from the restaurant. Everyone dropped off their bags at the table.

It appeared as if not all of the troupe members would be dancing. Franklin was already seated with his arms crossed. You looked at him questioningly, after which he said, "I have to guard the stuff." It was clear by his tone that he actually meant "I don't like to dance."

You smiled placidly and nodded in understanding. He was an unusual sort of guy. She was beginning to like him already. In fact, the whole Phantom Troupe was becoming gradually more likable as the night progressed.

You looked for Kurapika to bid him one last warning before he got whisked away by Leorio. By the time she spotted him, it was already too late.

You watched as Kurapika scratched at the back of his head, suddenly unaware of what to do with his arms. He was apparently awestruck by his dance partner's appearance.

The two made their shy greetings. Kurapika reached for his hand as any chivalrous partner would do.

Soon a waltz commenced, floating around the room. A subtle violin and cello duet beckoned people out onto the floor.

You watched as Kurapika led Leorio out, their suit jackets glimmering synchronously as the lights passed. They took position still near their group's table, but far enough to have room to dance.

The wide floor soon filled with numerous other couples. Hisoka led Illumi out alongside Uvogin and Nobunaga. Hisoka and Illumi were practically professional dancers from the very start, moving to an elaborate step that drew the attention of all the students. People nearly cleared the floor to make room for them. This annoyed Illumi to no end, while Hisoka displayed a wild grin. They twirled, dipped, and did intricate step sequences, unquestionably rehearsed to perfection.

The rest were not as remarkably polished. Still, they appeared to be equally enjoying themselves.

Leorio and Kurapika laughed as one of them accidentally stepped upon the other toes or missed a movement. While they lacked coordination, they surely didn't lack chemistry. This was a good sign.

You could see their mouths moving but the music drowned out their voices. Kurapika attempted to guide Leorio in the basic box step, turning him once in a while.

Most ignored the cameramen or simply didn't notice them lurking in hidden spots. You had some otherworldly feeling that sensed them under the shadows in the balconies.

"Are you done watching?" Chrollo asked, holding his hand out to you just as Kurapika had done with Leorio.

You hadn't realized you were still staring out towards the masked partners on the floor. The ball was entirely overwhelming; the sound, the rapid movements, and the room itself were causing your head to spin.

Nonetheless, you snapped out of it and processed what Chrollo had just said. You just got offered a dance. A dance with him.

You knew his indicative gestures were leading somewhere. That somewhere was here, into his arms.

In front of hundreds of students, not to mention journalists itching to get a photo of the boy who was so famous. Not to mention his dance partner, who was no more than a low-level hunter wannabe.

Now's not the time to get nervous. This is what you wanted. Isn't it?

You stared down at his hand as if to ask "for me?"

You peered up to see the most gentle face slowly becoming riddled with doubt.

"This is what you want, isn't it?"

Is it?

Now that you are actually here, in the position that used to be visible only in your imagination, you feel immense pressure.

In these weeks past, you didn't even question what you were getting herself into. To be fair, you weren’t sure what this night would be, exactly. Would you be met with a closed-off boy whose coldness warded you away or the courteous man who would rather teach you nen lessons than see you fail?

Is it even safe to get this close?

Chrollo's personality had shifted in the span of the night. It became full of genuine interest rather than his usual impassive curiosity. He, as a person, was becoming all the more real.

Real was dangerous.

This stream of consciousness only took a second. It took one look into Chrollo's eyes to know what your answer would be.

"This is what I want."

It was the first step. No, rather it was your first leap off a skyscraper.

You were falling. Hard.

His grip was delicate, holding your hand as if it was made of glass. Chrollo felt strange, being so unsure. He was normally an expert at figuring out people– what they felt and why they acted the way they did.

You, on the other hand, were a labyrinth. He had always been so hesitant for this reason. Chrollo needed to be able to figure out a person in order to get close to them. With you, there was something buried deeper than you let on. It was virtually impossible to uncover. You put up almost as good of a front as Chrollo.

Or perhaps it was Chrollo's own mind that was muddied at the thought of you. His intentions versus yours, his morals versus yours. It all began to matter very much. What would he think in the end, after he got out of your what he so desired?

Nevermind that now. For Chrollo was feeling a mutual enthusiasm that you were plainly exhibiting. He led you out to the floor.

The Phantom Troupe watched with apprehension. They weren't used to their boss being so amiable. He couldn't be swayed by a simple person, and yet here he was.

"Can you dance?" Chrollo turned to you, putting an arm upon your shoulder. You already almost melted under the single touch.

You had reached the middle of the floor, far from the troupe. Was he that confident in his own dancing? The center could be viewed from all sides and balconies. You were sure to stand out.

"Not well," you said candidly.

Chrollo began a light step, swaying from side to side. This newfound tenderness was surprising. He was treating you as if you were a queen. And you couldn't get enough of it.

Wanting to grasp for more of this certain side of him, you said, "I can do more than this."

"As you wish," Chrollo said with a gracious smile.

He immediately followed a more complicated step, falling in line with the other couples on the floor. You pretended to ignore their whispers.

Just as you thought. He is an incredible dancer.

Every time you struggled to keep up he would adjust his pace. You worked like hands on a clock, moving as if set to one another's rhythm. The music now was a quicker allegro beat.

Your attire fanned out as you turned: your right hand in his, your arm on his shoulder.

Now it was the students' turn to stare at Chrollo and you. It was unclear if it was because they recognized the boy under the mask, or they were observing the electrifying chemistry.

You couldn't help but beam as you sailed across the floor. Chrollo did not break eye contact and you did your best to do the same.

A feeling overcame you as you continued to hold his hand in yours. It couldn't be described as fireworks or sparks, as often depicted by the romance novels she's read. It was more of an awakening.

Despite the weather turning cold, you felt as if it was spring. A revival. Things were blossoming, the rain washed away the grey of winter.

He was your spring.

It was odd. For Chrollo could be explained more effectively as ominous and intimidating, unlike a bright spring day. He should've been cold stone walls, closed doors, secret passageways.

But no, he was warmth itself.

If only you would turn away for a second you would notice a coldness settle that hadn't been there before.

The way he looked tonight in his dazzling suit and mask, the way he said all those uncharacteristically gracious words: these were the things you would have etched in your memory for a very, very long time. Now, without Chrollo it would feel as if something were missing.

You would not realize this yet, as you were still in a state of pure elation. It was only the beginning.

But this was the connection you felt. Having it defined opened up a world of possibilities.

Who would've known, it all came into fruition at a masquerade ball.

━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━

After a couple more songs, you left the floor. Sweat prickled at your brow. You were left panting after a rapid final dance.

Several students couldn't help but clap. You hadn't even done a thing. You were sure it was Chrollo's dancing that gained all the attention.

"You're better than I expected," you said.

Chrollo brushed back his hair which had fallen in his face with all the movement. "I would say the same to you, y/n." He smiled, sizing your up.

You didn't dispute his return of the compliment. He was right.

At the group table, Kurapika and Leorio were sitting drinking glass after glass of the bootlegged champagne. It would've been inappropriate to bring alcohol to such a prestigious event if many other tables weren't doing the same. Apparently, the students here did know how to have a good time.

Chrollo went to talk to Franklin as you sat next to Leorio and Kurapika.

"You both were amazing!" Leorio exclaimed as you approached.

You grinned, "Where have you two been?"

"We were on the floor too, didn't you see us?"

You tried to laugh it off, "No... I was a little distracted."

To be fair, you didn't notice the cameras, the students, or the other dancers either.

"Sooo are you two going back out?" Leorio asked, leaning on his hand. His words slurred slightly.

You looked over your shoulder at Chrollo. He looked serious as he talked to Franklin. "I'm not sure. Are you two?"

"Yes, we plan on trying the group dance. Just like we practiced," Kurapika said, giving you a knowing look.

The synchronized dance was the signature of the ball. All those who learned it were allowed to participate. It was the last dance, so they would still be sitting for a while. The time was now around 9:00 and the hall would be closed by 12:00 a.m.

Before they could converse any further, Chrollo gently put a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have something to show you, y/n."

He held his hand out again. This time you took it with no hesitation.

"Ok," you leaped up, flattening out your dress.

You were all too willing to go wherever Chrollo pleased. There wasn't even a point where she needed to remind herself who this man was. His charm had influenced you too far already. There was no going back.

Kurapika gave you a warning look. You threw him back a smile. This did nothing to reassure him.

Chrollo interlaced his fingers slowly with yours, hesitating as you crossed under the balconies. You could've dissolved right then and there. It only further confirmed his gentlemanly attitude and respect towards you.

You couldn't even look at him. You felt your face growing hotter by the second. Thank god for a mask and several layers of foundation.

To your surprise, you were led far from the dance floor. You ended up at a small door in a quiet corner of the ballroom. The spot was underneath the alcoves and not a soul was in sight. Moonlight poured in from the tiny stained-glass windows.

"It's through here," Chrollo said, his voice barely audible over the orchestral music.

"Do I get to know where you're taking me?" You stopped in your tracks. You were thinking of what Kurapika would say. Even though you would follow him at the drop of a coin, you weren’t that stupid. He is a man, before all else.

Something flashed in Chrollo's eyes. Was he hurt by your sudden distrust?

"I'll show you. I promise you'll like it," Chrollo replied, creaking open the door.

There was nothing at first, only darkness. But stepping through the door bestowed an even more enchanting sight than the ballroom.

You gasped, "I didn't realize there was a courtyard out here."

Chrollo looked at you as if he were seeing you the first time tonight again. The profile of your face was highlighted by the moonlight. your jawline was your only feature that stood out, the rest of your was soft under the haze of darkness. The surrounding blue contrasted against your fading red lipstick. your hair had grown significantly more disheveled but it still looked utterly smooth. If Chrollo was bolder he would've run his hand through it and took you by your waist and done things he surely would regret for initiating too soon... he wanted to savor the moment when it inevitably came.

He smiled, despite himself. Neither of you noticed the cold, still warmed from dancing only moments ago. Chrollo watched as your eyes soaked in the scene before you.

It seemed as if the bushes and trees saved their last breaths for this space alone. Fall leaves hung over a gravel path. Ivy snaked up the surrounding structures, all encapsulating the tiny yard. A small table sat in the center of the path upon which a lantern was placed. He had come prepared.

The whole night: he had anticipated it all. He had realized your love, and, at this moment, you realized his. What he had yet to figure out was the depth of those feelings or where they came from. Or, most importantly, what was tucked underneath those feelings. That was what tonight was for.

The orchestra still echoed faintly through the ancient walls.

"Shall we dance? I never did like dancing in front of a crowd,"

You redirected your eyes to an equally beautiful scene. You were still in reverence. It was obvious now that he had planned it all.

Your heart swelled like an ocean wave, but all you could manage to get out was, "Are we supposed to be here?"

Chrollo looked at you dangerously, "To remind you, I'm not supposed to be anywhere."

Before you could say another word, Chrollo stepped forward and lifted both his and your own mask off of your faces.

"There."

Chrollo's undivided visage was in view now. The curve of his nose and tops of his cheekbones caught the light of the moon. His downcast eyelashes were full, framing his silver eyes.

As for Chrollos view, he simply needed to see your whole face to be sure that what you felt was really true. When he saw the arching of your lips and widened eyes, he knew it was.

He grasped your hand in preparation to waltz, deliberately intertwining his hand with yours.

Timed perfectly, the music slowed. It was a couples' number. Inevitably, this had also somehow been planned by Chrollo.

This dancing was quite different than before. It was full of significance.

The song picked up with a violin. Chrollo pulled you close, your bodies almost touching. Your heat radiated off of one another. You felt almost giddy with attraction. What you wanted to do to him was far past your confidence, but you wanted it all the same.

His eyes didn't leave yours. A slight smile persisted on his lips. He hadn't enjoyed himself so much in years. And the last time he felt something like this, it wasn't nearly as genuine.

You swayed from side to side with only the moonlight and distant concerto guiding your steps. You made a move to rest your head on his shoulder. It was so that you could not look into his eyes as you spoke your next words. You snaked your arms behind his neck while he placed his around your hips. It felt good to be so close. You felt secure in his arms.

You really hoped this was going where she thought it was. But you needed to be certain.

"I want to know if this is true," you whispered, breaking the tranquil silence. Your breath was hot against his neck. It drove him absolutely mad.

Unknowingly, you had echoed back the words Chrollo had been retracing in his head throughout the night. Is this true?

He feigned ignorance of the meaning behind your statement. "What's true?" Chrollo whispered back.

"Is all this premeditation for something else? Another scheme?"

Chrollo suddenly turned serious, "I will never do that to you again. This is for real."

You pulled back to look into his eyes, "But what is this?"

Your face was lined with apprehension. After all that happened tonight, it still wasn't clear. Chrollo needed to change that.

He looked down at you, attempting to convey what you meant to him in his eyes. They overflowed with tenderness, admiration, and worship, even.

You hadn't realized that he had these emotions in him. Now you understood. It was all because they were reserved for you.

His movement was swift. He lowered his face to yours, soaking in your divine scent. You didn't anticipate what was about to happen until his lips delicately brushed against your own, asking for an invitation. He clearly didn't need one, for your body responded immediately. Your hand trailed up to the side of his face. Chollo pulled your hips towards him. Your eyes fluttered shut.

And you kissed.

It was intoxicating.

The taste of him nearly silenced your thoughts. It was a tang of wine and sweetness. You tried to let the feeling seep into your bones, agonizing over its ephemeral nature.

Your surroundings dissolved into the inky night. You focused on how soft his mouth felt, how his hands upon your hips made you want to yield to all he could offer, and, in turn, all you could ever desire.

Seconds later, you unwillingly pulled apart. Your whole body tingled, edging for more. Both of your heartbeats were fluttering a rapid cadence. Remaining there for a moment– foreheads touching, breath tickling one another lips– you savored each other's presence.

Your kiss was unlike anything either of you had experienced before. It was born out of lust but resulted in something deeper. Floating to the surface was an unbound attraction sparked by one mouth on another.

You both were left smiling with flushed cheeks. Goosebumps prickled on your arms.

"I hope that made it clear," Chrollo said pulling away at last.

The warmth disappeared and you were left in a state of longing. You could still feel the touch of his lips upon yours, a ghost of his sensitive movements.

You smiled lightly at him, "It did."

Chrollo held out an arm for you. "We best be getting back now."

You were frozen in place, coming to your senses. Holy shit.

The enormity of what that kiss meant came crashing down upon you. What would this mean moving forward? Everything had seemed so temporary with Chrollo, coming in and out of your life as he did in the past month. Was this temporary as well?

There was no time to dwell upon the future of their relationship. Although the promise of privacy in the courtyard tempted you to stay, there was still one more number to dance.

━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━

#hunter x hunter #hunterxhunter fanfic #adult trio headcanons #chrollo headcanons #chrollo #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x reader #kurapika #chrollo fanfic #hisoillu #hxh #hxh chrollo #hxh fanfic #hxh scenarios

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years

Text

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Five - Will You Still Follow?

Ao3 in the comments

Scott plays with his skirt as he watches Pixl drag Jimmy out the hall, meeting up with Lizzie and Joel in the courtyard. Something must have come up in one of their empires, because worry seems to spread throughout the group, even though Jimmy seems outraged.

Soon after they take off, Joey and Shubble leave the ball as well, and the civilian guests follow suit. Whatever’s happening, it’s not something on the original itinerary. Pearl leaves the party, and Scott presses his wings close to him, walking away from the edge of the balcony as Pearl flies overhead.

Something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong.

Scott carefully walks down the stairs, avoiding walking on the amethyst that lines the floor. Scott hides behind a corner as Fwip slams the door shut, locking it from the inside. Fwip’s dark capelet flows behind him, and Scott holds his breath as Sausage cackles.

“Let’s let the real party begin!” Fwip says, taking a glass of wine from Sausage. “A toast, to Lady Katherine of House Blossom, for allowing my siblings and I to use this amazing ballroom for our meeting!”

Oh no, Scott thinks, his heart in his throat. He knew that Sausage, Fwip and Gem were triplets, their kingdoms divided evenly between the three of them by their parents, but the trio were dangerous when mixed. Sausage openly supports Xornoth, and though Gem and Fwip both originally studied the corruption in order to contain it, Scott’s been having his doubts.

Fwip was already corrupted, his mind could easily be swayed to Xornoth’s side, and Gem would do anything for her brothers.

Gem and Katherine both laugh, though Scott notices how Katherine seems slightly uncomfortable by something in Fwip’s stance. And Scott notices it, the wild look in Fwip’s eyes that match Sausage’s, the way his brown eyes look almost red in the purple lantern light.

“What’s on the agenda tonight, Fwip?” Gem asks, her voice light. Scott notices footsteps, though if they’re from Gem or Katherine he can’t tell.

“Sausage actually says that he has interesting information about a certain scaled neighbour of his.” There’s a dark undertone in Fwip’s voice, and Scott has to stop himself from taking a step back.

This is wrong. This is so utterly wrong.

“Oh, do you mean Jimmy?” Katherine asks. “Is he doing alright?”

“Yeah, Jimmy’s fine.” Sausage snarls. “More than fine, in fact.”

“What do you mean?” Gem asks, and something in her voice lets Scott know that Jimmy is decidedly not fine.

“Well, he’s Xornoth’s enemy.” Sausage grumbles.

“We all are.” Katherine says, and Scott winces slightly. Katherine certainly has a way to read the room.

“No, he’s Aeor’s champion.”

Scott’s eyes widen, barely able to catch himself before he gasps. He needs to keep his face calm, himself calm. He can’t let them know that he’s here. Fwip laughs, and Gem snorts slightly. Katherine giggles from across the room, and after a moment of thought Scott also has to stifle a laugh.

Jimmy, Aeor’s champion? That’s absurd.

“No, hear me out!” Sausage protests. “Think about it, Jimmy’s always there, always ready to oppose us - to oppose our power, from Xornoth or the deepslate! He’s constantly trying to fight us and he’s strongly against Xornoth.”

“That is true.” Fwip admits, and Scott’s heart sinks. “Maybe we should try and get him to see this from our side.”

“I’m sorry, do you three support the demon?” Katherine says, and Scott shivers. Katherine’s scary when she’s mad, and he doesn’t want to be on her bad side.

Though this is a positive outcome!

“Uh-”

“Out!” Katherine snaps. “Out, get out! No demon talk in here, and certainly no threatening one of the people who built this hall!”

The door opens and slams as the trio race out of the hall, Katherine’s breathing shaky at best. Scott carefully extracts himself from his hiding spot, walking into the open. Overgrown flowers dot cracks in the flooring that certainly weren’t there when the party started.

“Are you alright?” Scott asks, and Katherine shrieks.

“Oh! Scott, I thought you had left.” Katherine laughs breathlessly. “Yes, I’m fine. I just need a rest.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, but Scott nods nonetheless.

“The ball was lovely.” Scott says. “I really enjoyed dancing, thank you for the invitation.”

“I wish you and Jimmy could have danced for longer.” Katherine sighs. “You know, he didn’t tell me you two were together. We built this hall for a whole week and he didn’t mention it!”

“We’re not together.” Scott mumbles, blushing.

“I’m sorry?” Katherine says. “What do you mean you’re ‘not together’. You’re a fairytale couple!”

“I’m trying to court him now, but if I ask him to court he won’t accept!” Scott says. “I don’t think he likes me, not even as a friend.”

“Scott, I am giving you this as advice from one ruler to another.” Katherine says, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Go home and go to sleep. Then get your eyes checked because you’re clearly blind for ignoring the way he was looking for you all night.”

“I’m not-” Katherine sends him a look that levels him with embarrassment. “Okay, I’ll go to bed.”

“Sleep well Scott!” Katherine calls as Scott walks into the courtyard.

Wind pushes through Scott’s hair as he takes off, his white wings spreading out and catching the wind. He lets the wind push him towards his kingdom, closing his eyes as he sores over mountains and trees.

----

Scott laughs as he spins his husband around the meadow. The glow of the world barrier casts light in their hair as they barely avoid dancing themselves into their lake. There’s no war, no threats, no Dogwarts, no red desert here. There’s just him and his husband, dancing the night away.

His husband’s yellow eyes meet his green ones, and he places his head on the man’s shoulders.

There’s nothing that can hurt them, their wall freshly built and their base lit up. No mobs, no people will harm them. They’re safe.

And as the moon rises higher into the sky, they hold each other close.

“Oh fair and flighty love,” His husband sings. “My aerolite above. The only dove I see.”

Scott giggles as his husband pulls him into a gentle sway.

“Oh could you love me more, if by the sun and moon I swore, that I would never flee?”

“Well I still taste you on my lips.” Scott sings. “Lovely bitter water. The terrible fire of old regret is honey on my tongue.”

“And I know I shouldn’t love you.”

“I know I shouldn’t love you.”

“But I do.” They sing together, hands holding onto each other. There’s a reverence in the air, one that Scott doesn’t dare break.

Their hollow is silent, not a cricket or an owl breaking the noise.

And then his husband kisses him.

#in my dreams (will you remember me?)#imd(wyrm)#empires smp fic

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heart-of-gold-outlaw · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home | Chapter Seven: Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

Wattpad

Ao3

Summary: The Reader and Arthur head into Valentine; Reader has a sobering realization.

Thankfully, Hosea doesn't mention anything about your encounter with Micah to anyone else. The last thing you need is to cause trouble within the gang. It seems like they have enough of that already. In the short time you've been running with them, you've realized that there's a constant threat looming over, well, everyone. It goes beyond getting captured by the law. These people are running for their lives, lives that society has deemed aren't worth living.

You might be crazy, but you empathize. How many times has society deemed your life unlivable in your modern day?

You help out with some of the camp chores for a while. The hay bales are too heavy, and you almost drop the feed sacks on Uncle as he's trying to take a nap, so you settle for hauling water to top off the wash basins. It's simple work, but it keeps you occupied. Really, that's all you need.

As you're pouring the last of the water out, you find your mind drifting. It's strange, to say the least, how quickly you've adjusted to life in the past. You find yourself thinking back to something your friend once told you, about how if you were dropped in a foreign country, you would learn enough to get around within a month. It's not the same thing; time travel definitely isn't the same as speaking a foreign language. But they're similar, at least.

"You still got water in the bucket, ya know."

A shriek escapes you, quick and sharp, and you throw the bucket up in the air. Water sloshes all over your head. Whirling around, you see Arthur standing just a few short feet away. He's watching you, and you can tell he doesn't know whether to apologize or laugh. He shoves his hands into his pockets and whistles.

"Why're you always so jumpy?" He asks as he finds the bucket and picks it up.

Years' worth of anxiety issues, you think, but say: "It's a talent."

Arthur snorts and sets the bucket aside. "Some talent."

Your face burns, but you try to act as nonchalant as possible. There's no doubt that he sees right through you, but you keep it up anyways.

"Did you need something?" You question innocently. You're looking anywhere but his eyes.

"Was thinking of heading into Valentine." Arthur smiles a little and puts his hands back in his pockets. "Was wondering if you'd want to join me."

For a second, your brain stops. Arthur... inviting you to Valentine. Arthur. Valentine. Arthur and Valentine. Valentine and Arthur. It's enough to make your head spin, even though it shouldn't. And then knowledge hits you, unmistakable and strong:

You've got one hell of a crush.

"Sure," you say, desperately hoping you sound casual. You try to lean against a nearby table, misjudge the distance, and almost topple over. "Valentine sounds great."

Arthur grins and shakes his head a little. There's something in his eyes, something you can't quite place, and your cheeks burn again.

"Go ahead and ask Charles if you can borrow Taima again," he says, reaching out and righting you as you try to regain your balance. "I'll meet you outside of camp."

His hand is warm against your shoulder and lingers just a little longer than normal. Arthur smiles at you again, then leaves with a low chuckle. You watch him go, just barely managing not to sink to the ground.

Yep. You're screwed.

You find Charles sitting at one of the tables. He's whittling something, and the closer you get, the more you realize it's a beautiful deer. He looks up at you as you approach. Smiling warmly, he sets his knife aside and shifts so he looks more open to a conversation. You feel your heart swell. It's not every day someone would be so considerate. Charles, you've decided, is one of the nicest people in the gang.

"Hey there, Y/N," he greets once you're close enough. His tone is gentle. "Hope you're adjusting to us alright."

You nod. "I guess so. There's not really a guide on this sort of thing."

"You're right about that." Charles laughs a little and leans back against the table. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just wondering if I could borrow Taima for a bit," you say. "Arthur wants to head into Valentine, and I don't think he wants to deal with my stupid ass falling off the back of Florence."

Charles looks thoughtful for a moment, then glances toward where Arthur is carrying his saddle. You follow his gaze. You can't help but smile when you see Arthur gently stroking his horse's mane. It's amazing, really, how hands so rough and calloused can be so careful.

By the time you turn back to Charles, he's watching you with a knowing glint in his eyes. For the millionth time that day, your face turns red.

"He likes you, you know," he eventually says. "We all do."

For a moment, you can only stand there. You don't like the way your eyes suddenly sting, don't want to contradict anything, tell Charles that people in your time don't really care for you by default. But judging by the sudden look of understanding on his face, something tells you he already knows.

"It takes some getting used to," he murmurs. "I know what it's like."

You blink away your tears and nod. "Thank you."

Charles smiles at you, then motions with his hand toward the horses. "Of course you can borrow Taima. Have fun in Valentine."

The "with Arthur" lingers in the air, even though he doesn't say it. You blush again, turn away, and start heading to where Arthur's already done saddling Florence.

Taima is an absolute beauty. Arthur is adjusting the stirrups by the time you walk over, making sure everything's fit for an easy ride. When he's done, he gives you a leg-up into the saddle. You're a little unsteady, still more than slightly unsure, but it's getting better every day. Arthur gives you a nod of approval. You grin at him and grip the reins the way he's showed you in the past.

"Feelin' more comfortable?" He asks as he effortlessly swings into his own saddle.

You try your best not to stare. No matter how many times he does it, how Arthur Morgan handles horseback will never cease to amaze you.

"Ye-ah," you eventually manage, shaking yourself out of your reverie. "Guess it just takes some practice."

He sets a steady trot toward Valentine. Taima keeps up with Florence well, gait smooth and sure. Briefly, you wonder if Dutch (or anyone for that matter) will let you get a horse of your own. Not that you mind Taima, but borrowing her every now and then has to be a hassle for Charles. The last thing you want is to be a burden.

"What're you thinking about?"

Arthur's voice once again brings you back to reality, and before you can stop yourself, you say: "Just wondering if I were to fall from the camp's cliff, would it be enough to kill me?"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know you should've come up with something better. Arthur glances at you, that sideways glance you've come to realize he only gives when he's trying to process something. You give him a tight-lipped smile. It's too late to back down now. Might as well stick to your guns.

After a while, Arthur shakes his head and sighs. You can tell he's trying to figure out what to say... not that there's really much he can say to that.

"You know," he eventually murmurs, "Hosea told me about that kind of talk from you."

"Traitor," you mutter.

Arthur sighs again, exasperated. "Does everybody want to die in the future?"

"Uh..." You think about Global Warming, the plummeting economy, and sky-high rent prices with a low minimum wage. "No?"

You don't sound convincing, even to yourself. Arthur rolls his eyes.

"Glad to see things stay the same," he mutters.

Taima wanders a little closer to Florence, close enough that your leg brushes against Arthur's. He's warm. And strong. And... Actually? You need to stop.

"If it makes you feel any better," you say as a distraction, "I'm just pretty vocal about the whole 'death' thing. Most people keep it to themselves."

Arthur considers this for a moment, eyeing you with that same level look that makes you wonder if you should've just kept your mouth shut.

"That's worse," he tells you. "You do know that's worse, right?"

You shrug. "Easy come, easy go."

He shakes his head again with another eyeroll. "Just don't go an' die on me, ya hear?"

"...No promises."

The Valentine Saloon doesn't look like much, but with the sudden chill in the air as the sun dips beneath the horizon, it's warm and inviting to you.

Arthur guides you toward the hitching post, then helps you out of the saddle. You long for the day you can hop down without any assistance. Not that you mind him doing it, but still. You want to be able to fend for yourself should the need arise.

He shows you how to properly hitch Taima, then hitches Florence, murmuring a quick "you're alright, boy" into his ear before gently steering you toward the saloon. You try not to think about the weight of his hand on your shoulder. Honestly, you try not to think about a lot of the things that rush through your mind. Acting ridiculous is one thing; acting ridiculously thirsty is another entirely.

Arthur pushes the doors open to the saloon just like a classic spaghetti western cowboy. You follow him a little blindly. The room is noisy, filled with the chatter of a decent-sized crowd. Eyeing people warily, you stick close to Arthur as he makes his way to the bar. You're suddenly reminded of something that bothers you in your own time: drunken morons.

"Whiskey," Arthur tells the bartender. "And..." He looks at you expectantly.

"Uh," you stammer for a second. You've never really been a drinker, and a lot of the options you would have in the future either don't exist or are a complete rarity in the wild west. "Beer?"

Much to your relief, the bartender nods, produces a couple glasses, and pours you and Arthur your drinks. Arthur tips his in thanks, then downs the whiskey in one go. You sniff at your glass. It smells like... well, it smells like piss, but you don't want to look like a square in front of everyone. So you chug it.

Somehow, you manage not to make a face, even though the beer leaves an awful aftertaste. It feels warm in your chest, though, and while it's not a great feeling, it's not terrible, either. You look over at Arthur and grin. It's likely you won't be able to hold your liquor. You make a mental note not to go beyond your limit.

"So," you say as you signal for the bartender to fill your glass again. This one, you're going to sip... or so you tell yourself. "Why the need to get out of camp?"

Arthur also motions for another round. "Just don't like feelin' cooped up," he admits, "and there's somethin' I've been meaning to run by you."

You watch him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

"Got a lead from an old friend about one of our boys." Arthur swirls his whiskey. "Name's Sean. We thought he was dead, but looks like some bounty hunters got ahold of him."

"Okay..." You're not sure what this has to do with you.

"Dutch is plannin' on having a few of us see if we can grab him before... well, you know." Arthur takes a deep breath. "Was wondering if you wanted to come along."

For a moment, your brain doesn't register what he's saying. Bounty hunters, rescue mission, that part, you get. But... the way he's acting... so nervous, so unsure... It almost feels like--

Nah. You shut the thought down before you can finish it. No sense in getting your hopes up.

"Sure," you say, realizing he's waiting for an answer. "Sounds like a good time."

You want to kick yourself for that one. Yeah, it makes you sound more confident than you feel, but rescuing someone from certain death definitely doesn't call for a casual tone.

Luckily, Arthur either doesn't notice, or doesn't care, and he smiles at you. You smile back, then lift your drink toward him. He raises his in response, and the two of you drink until there's nothing left.

So much for sipping it, you think as your face starts to feel a little warm and numb. Oh well.

The next few hours pass by quickly. You stop after three drinks, and so does Arthur. Apparently, you're both on the same page, i.e. not getting wasted (and, consequently, hungover the next morning). The saloon gets a little more crowded as the night progresses, and you have to bite down hard on your growing discomfort. You don't want to ruin this. And besides: Arthur seems to be having a good time. You can put up with everything for a little while longer.

It's another hour before you feel like you're going to explode. Thankfully, Arthur doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you're going to step outside for some air, just gives you a nod with "be careful" undertones. You can't help but smile at him. How a rough and tough outlaw can be so caring... it never ceases to amaze you.

Outside, the air is crisp and clean and does wonders for your anxiety. You breathe it in like you'll never have it again. It's also dark, so you stick by the lights of the saloon. Instinct doesn't change, even when you travel through time, apparently. For a moment, you're struck with wonder at how things can be so different, but so much the same, too, in the future. People are still fundamentally people. They're all alive as well.

It's that last thought that suddenly sobers you. These people... they're all dead in your time. Dead and... well, dead and mostly forgotten. All anybody in the future will have are photographs. They won't know what these people sound like. They won't know how they laugh, how warm they are, how lovely it is when they smile. In the future, people just won't know. It'll all be lost to time.

You try not to think about what that means for Arthur and others.

You try not to think about what that means for you.

A/N: Existential crisis? For MY Reader? It’s more likely than you think!

Accompanying Music: Hamilton | Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x modern!reader #modern!reader #fic #my fic #rdr2 fic #welcome home

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va-3 · 3 years

Text

Part I

Second Half of my OC’s Information (the photo limit screwed me over)

The 1930s through the 1970s in Taika’s past is still a work in progress as well as the art soooo...probably a part three in the future?

Taika and Raspberry move to California the fall of 1986, although Raspberry finds a more permenant residence in Los Angeles while Taika finds herself on a more wandering path.

In the February of 1987 Taika wandered upon the town of Santa Carla, a town given credit for being home to those who wanted to disappear.

[side note: the jacket and jeans would be colored if only my damn markers hadn’t died]

Taika, a delinquent at heart as always, fit in like a puzzle piece. The punk-graffiti day life appealed to her like any adventure, and the smell of vampires lured her further into the town. She “cleared” a house (the act of killing the owners of a house and taking it for herself) as well as the garage. Taika acquired a 1987 Yamaha Virago via a rich douchebag she easily stole from and offed.

When the nightlife glowed at the boardwalk, it was apparent to the Santa Carla vampires that something was off, although they could not place it.

Taika did not make contact with the vampires for a while, seeming to distance herself just enough to make them curious about the uneasiness on the boardwalk since her arrival. Every now and then a body would turn up, a person snatched into an alleyway and partially eaten. It wasn’t until David met eyes with Taika across the boardwalk that it was clear to the Santa Carla vampires that there was another predator on their territory.

Taika’s aggressiveness and competitiveness are what pull the boys in first, that along with her scent, so much more intoxicating than any other human. A sort of playful rivalry grows between the calta and the vampires—who could last longer making trouble on the boardwalk without getting kicked off by Big Ed, who could score the biggest bonfire of surf nazis, and so on.

In the end it was Marko and Paul who put an end to the rivalry. Dwayne hadn’t thought he’d be able to really approach Taika and David was too prideful to do so. So the chaotic blonde duo took it upon themselves to invite her back to their cave as an act of trust as well as cease fire. David, no matter his pride, was quick to share about the fallen hotel made theirs. She was quick to catch on to the fact that they had been vampires much longer than they appeared. Dwayne brought it to her attention that she clearly knew what they were while they handn’t a single idea what she was.

With that question being asked, she explains what she is, and from there, their trusting relationship grows. The first time they hunt together is remotely terrifying to the vampires, considering she is a monster made for hunting them as well as other supernatural creatures.

The relationship between the boys and Taika blooms into something deeper, though it isn’t apparent to any of them at all at first. It was just small things they realized they loved about her, and her them. They fall in love with her odd little quirks, like how she always has change on her because it’s “shiny and distracting”, or how she’ll braid tiny braids into her hair and sometimes to boys’ hair, or how she makes beautifully delicate carvings out of the bones of their victims, or buys(steals) stuff for the cave while they all sleep, or organizes whatever she can anytime she comes the to cave, and really really likes coconut shrimp.

She steals the boy’s clothing whenever she leaves the cave during the day after a night of events, not that any of them complain. Marko’s crop tops are always her go to, while she wears Paul’s jewelry out and sometimes jeans that Dwayne doesn’t wear anymore. Sometimes Taika and David switch earrings, only because David is hesitant to give her any of his current clothing,. When he finds that he is more possesive of her than he’d openly admit, he gives her extra shirts of his to keep. Taika loves how the vampires smells mask her own; not only is it comforting, but it protects her from any lurking sevren(a post for another time).

Taika only needing three hours of sleep allows her to have a day life of her own, one that tends to breed chaos. Sometimes she’ll go surfing, something she’s become quite adept at, and show up the surf nazis on their own territory. Taika is the only member of the “biker gang” that the surfers ever see during the day, so they let out a lot of their aggression on her because they’re truly too cowardly to face the boys and her head on. The biggest mistake the surfers ever made was the day they decided it’d be humorous to steal her bike in broad daylight. She’d parked her bike(albeit illegally) on the boardwalk when she got to the beach, and when she returned later that day her bike was gone. Needless to say the surfers had invoked the wrath of someothing stronger than them on supernatural levels.

The boys knew something was up the instant they walked into the caves main area to find Taika waiting patiently at the exit. The only tthing she said was she needed a ride, one David gave happily. When the vampires had parked their bikes and Taika had muttered some words of reassurance to fill in her silence, she made a beeline for the carousel, following the ocean-spray smell of the asshole who’d taken her bike. He was standing in line with an arm draped over a girl who couldn’t have looked more trashy, his friends jostling one another as the line moved along. The four vampires followed behind the taller predator, their curiosity evident as they formed a half-crescent around her when she stopped. Taika was quick to clamp her arm onto the girl under the surfer and yank her out of the way, sending her flying onto her butt. Taika was mad, like, really mad. She hooked her hand into the collar of the surfers shirt, ignoring his protest when she yanked him to her.

“Where is it,” she hissed, putting forth minimal effort to keep herself from biting his face off in public. Marko watched in excitement, his thumb between his teeth as his eyes found the surfer’s. This guy was screwed. He raised his hands in surrender and feigned innocence, “Hey, I don’t know what your deal is lady, but I don’t know nothin about anything.”

His friends snickered behind Taika, clearly enjoying how angry they had made her. She narrowed her wild purple eyes, running her tongue over her teeth.

“Where’s my goddamn bike,” she demanded, her voice like ice down his spine. The vampires watched on, looking about occasionally to make sure Big Ed wouldn’t poke his nose where it didn’t belong. His friends burst into laughter again, shoving one another giddily. Taika had half the mind to throw the surfer in her hands at them like a bowling ball at pin, but she repressed her urges.

“You can make this easy or you can make it hard. Give my my bike and I won’t have to kill you.” He pressed his hands to the sides of his face and made a noise imitating a ghost. She stilled, silently in thought for a moment before she scoffed and let go of his shirt.

“Fine. I’ll find it myself. Boys,” she turned sharply on her heel and marched towards her vampires, hooking her hand into Dwayne’s in a way that was supposed to be gentle, but she was too mad. Paul slipped his hand into her back pocket and matched her pace.

“Yeah, run to your queers.”

The boys would swear on their lives that they’d never seen her spin around and tackle someone as fast as she tackled that surfer. He was in the ground in seconds, and Taika was planting hit after hit, taking the few blows he managed to land on her ribs like they were nothing. The surfers friends sprang into action, attacking the boys as well as trying to pry Taika from the much bigger surfer. The surfer’s face was bleeding all over, and he was fighting to stay awake. Taika wanted blood. Her bike’s absence was a small inconvenience that ensured a meal later that night, but the insult to her boys was a direct blow at her. They could trash talk her straight to her face, insult her, whatever made them feel powerful, but no one, no one, says anything about her boys. At last, she was whacked across the face by the baton belonging to Big Ed. The blow stunned her if anything, although she fell to the side and off of the offending surfer. Paul and Marko were quick to her side, helping her to her feet while also readying to catch her if she tried lunge out at the bleeding prick on the ground. “Off the boardwalk. All of you! Now!”

David was beaming with pride as Taika walked to him and Dwayne, wiping the surfers’ blood from her lip. The surfers backed from the bikers as they walked forwards, parting away from them to avoid Taika who walked in front, acting as an active threat to anyone who dared to even think about opposing them. When the five were clear of the crowd, Paul looped his arms around Taika and pulled her in for a smacking kiss. “That was awesome babe. Like, so fucking awesome.”

She burst into laughter, dropping her head onto his chest.

“Hell yeah it was,” added Marko, yanking her to him and spinning her like they were dancing. “I’m like two-hundred percent sure that guy pissed himself!”

Marko and Paul exchanged a highly energetic high-five, feeling the energy of the fight reigniting itself. Dwayne silently pulled her into him and kissed her forehead.

“Good to know you care, kitten,”at David’s words she beamed. Dwayne released her, and she bounced towards David, latching onto the lapels of his jacket. “I hope you know that I would do anything for you,” her sultry accent sent a delighted chill down his back. “All of you,” she sang, letting go of David’s jacket and spinning into Paul and Marko’s arms giggling like a school girl. From within the blond vampire sandwich, she raised her hand in the air to make a point. “Now, let’s go find my bike!”

The car belonging to the surfer who’d stolen Taika’s bike was found strung up in a junkyard the next day. The sight had been stupendous apparently, and ended up on the news. The owner of the car and his friends had a been absolutely delicious. After he’d returned Taika’s bike of course.

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dramatical-gatsbytalia · 3 years

Text

A Messy Love Through the Ages - A SidLink AOC fic (Chapter One)

Well. Turns out you have to be invited to AO3. So I guess this is going up on Tumblr until I get my invitation. What a way to come out of fanfiction writer retirement.

Bit of warning; I have yet to play Age of Calamity yet. I traded in two of my unwanted games and had just enough to get a copy of the game, but it sits on my shelf waiting. Calling to me.

However, this RP was done with someone who has played Age of Calamity in all of its entirety; @wilclhero and I have our second RP that I’ve decided to flesh out because there are few AOC SidLink fics out there. So thank you @wilclhero for your permission and so many great ideas when developing this with me. :)

And I also sat through the 2-ish hours of cutscenes strung together on YouTube to make a film. So like…it’s fanfiction. No one is expecting 100% accuracy. And since this game throws out any time things that make sense in regards to the timeline in Breath of the Wild, I can do it too. Because Jeremy Bearimy said I could.

Chapter 1

It had been a long and treacherous battle. Mipha had been holding off Ganon’s Water Blight for as long as she could, but she had exhausted most of her powers. And as the monstrous beast loomed overhead she had thought for a moment this was the end.

But she would live to see another day. For out of nowhere a trident shot catapulted through the air, destroying what she had been expecting as the final blow that would end her life. And as she looked up at the Zora in front of her she gasped. His deep red scales that matched her own, that charisma in his grin, only a twinkle in his youth, fully realized from the shy boy she had known in this timeline. That voice calling out towards the scourge. “I will not let you take her again!”

“Sidon?”

And just in time too. Joining her side was the courageous hero, Champion Link of the Hylians. And just like that, the tides turned, and Ganon’s Blight was defeated. From the jaws of defeat, they emerged victorious.

But Link’s footsteps were heavy as he, Mipha, and Prince Sidon emerged from Vah Ruta. His mind was still spinning, utterly exhausted from the hours of nonstop battle leading up to this moment. Things had moved so quickly he barely had time to reflect; the Calamity was here, King Rhoam of Hyrule was dead, and he had only barely managed to drag his screaming daughter, Princess Zelda, from Calamity Ganon’s clutches.

It had been King Rhoam’s command. But he didn’t feel any less a coward as he pulled her away to safety instead of aiding him. Sure, he was Zelda’s personal knight, but this was the ruler of his Kingdom. What hero was he to leave the king for dead? And after all of their preparations, things seemed so hopeless. All of the other Champions were still trapped inside their assigned Divine Beasts.

All of their hard work, those sleepless nights, hours training and hardening themselves for battle…all for nothing. In that moment, even the Hero felt doubtful.

Hyrule was going to fall. And it would be all his fault.

His gaze ended up locked on the tall figure in front of him. This wasn’t the little prince he knew. The Sidon he, only knee-high to a grasshopper, was always so shy and so quiet. Where had this prince come from?

And why had he saved them—saved Link? No one had ever saved the Hero before. He was always the one doing the rescuing. He was supposed to risk his life for royalty, not the other way around.

What was this feeling?

As he trailed behind the siblings he slouched. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life he had felt so tired and hopeless. But there was still so much to do. Three more Divine Beasts. The Yiga Clan. Ganon.

“I…I can’t keep going…” he whispered, though apparently loud enough, as the siblings stopped in their tracks to face him. He was going to die, he knew it. He couldn’t protect everyone, and Ganon was going to win because of it.

Mipha approached Link, searching for the calming words that could pull Link from the depths of his hopelessness. Something to give him home. But she was still searching, mind still reeling from the recent events, pulling herself from despair and her resignation that she was going to die.

It was Sidon who spoke first and broke the silence. Sidon approached them both, crouched down to their level—when had the two of them gotten so small? He towered over the two of them. He took Link’s hands in his, a sun-kissed tan swallowed in a sea of red scales. Had things always been this small?

Sidon didn’t know the reason for what he said next. He remembered looking up to Link, literally and figuratively, but it hadn’t ever gone past gazing up to his elders and seeing greatness. And perhaps the tiniest boyhood crush. But he wouldn’t let the other know that. In that moment there was something else…he couldn’t put his fin on it.

He squeezed Link’s hands ever so slightly, the other looking him straight on before he spoke. “You can do it. I believe in you.”

Mipha nodded in encouragement. “That’s right. You can do it. I know it seems like all hope is lost, but we must believe. We survived this. Who isn’t to say we’ll survive even more?”

Link looked wide-eyed to Sidon and Mipha. He was already so spent; what if the other Champions were already dead? But…but he knew that he had to try. He had people believing in him.

With a nod, they set off. One down. Three more to go.

---

It was hours before they were able to meet up again. But by the Goddess, that small amount of hope had been enough to get them all through. Everyone had now regrouped, and now with three additional party members from the future by their sides, they were triumphant in each and every battle against Ganon’s Blights.

But their most recent battle against the Thunder Blight had done a number on Link. It had been so fast, and seemed to land several blows on him despite the blond constantly adjusting his strategy to keep up with the blasted thing. And now, run ragged from exerting his energy in multiple battles, he needed Mipha’s help badly to recover.

Even with her healing powers being pushed to the limit that day, the Princess of the Zora still had room for her favourite Hylian. His skin practically sewed itself up again with her help, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious despite Mipha having done this countless times before. He had always hated being the centre of attention, that feeling of constantly being watched.

What didn’t help was that it was the eyes of not one, not two, but three members of royalty keeping a close watch on his healing process. With his role keeping watch over Zelda and Mipha doing the healing, he hadn’t thought that her brother would be getting a front row seat to his broken and bruised body stitching itself back together again. For some reason, his gaze felt the most intimidating.

When their eyes met he looked away. The prince had saved him, and it was impossible to wipe that from his mind. If it hadn’t been for that first battle, for the prince quite literally dropping in from nowhere, and his words of encouragement, he would not have made it through the day.

Link was just a lowly knight. Why did they all care so much? Especially Sidon.

As the last of his wounds were treated he ended up looking over again, their eyes meeting once more. Once again, he quickly looked away, willing away the redness that threatened to spread across his cheeks. Goddess, what was wrong with him?

Sidon couldn’t see it, but he could feel something there as well. He had always been enamoured by the other as a child. He was tall (or at least back then he was), brave and…handsome? Yes, that was it. He couldn’t place that feeling in his youth, and had been unable to pursue any feelings he had as a hatchling. After this was all over perhaps he could--

“There,” Mipha said as she was all finished. Link went to get his tunic, letting it fall back over his torso before going to pick up his sword. Even in the safety of their small, fortified camp, he could never let his guard down.

And it was then it hit Sidon. Yes, of course. Mipha was alive. His sister was alive! Those feelings he had had needed to be pushed aside; she had never been able to pursue her own happy ending in his timeline. It seemed a shame, but it felt like the right thing to do. He wouldn’t get in the way of his sister’s affections for Link. He would see to it that she had her chance.

“Are you alright? Feeling better?”

Link nodded despite feeling like shit. While fantastic at fixing wounds, her healing powers could do nothing when it came to the exhaustion washing over him like a tidal wave. He tried to hide it, but it was obvious in the way he wobbled. Sidon, not wanting to interrupt but noticing the uneven sway in his step, put his hand to his back to even out his footing.

When Link looked to him in thanks he knew in that moment suppressing any burgeoning feelings was going to be a difficult task indeed. His balance restored, Sidon removed his hand, offering a charismatic smile to those in the tent with him. “You’ve all done well today, I knew we could do it!”

Ah, but it seemed perhaps he was just a bit too energetic for the mood in the room. It was late. Any leftover troops were gathered outside making quick meals to regain their strength. Perhaps it was time to eat and sleep. No doubt it would be a busy day tomorrow.

“It’s imperative we all rest. I’ll take my leave, I hope you all get an opportunity to get a good night’s rest.”

Mipha nodded and stood up. “Yes, I think that’s the best option.” Zelda only nodded in agreement, the weight of the day now resting heavily on her shoulders and rendering her silent.

But Link shook his head in protest. Not so much because he didn’t want to sleep; his body begged him for rest. But he had a job to do. How could he sleep with all that had happened today, with all that could still happen that evening? What happened if he wasn’t there, alert and ready to defend what was left of their small army.

Sidon seemed a bit shocked by Link’s answer, so he shook his head resolutely once again.

“…right…then I wish you all a lovely evening and a safe watch over us all tonight.”

With that, Mipha and Sidon exited the Zelda’s tent, Link following shortly after to keep guard outside. It wasn’t until they walked closer towards their own tents that Sidon really let his opinions be known.

“Does Champion Link really need permission to sleep at a time like this? Dear sister, this is ludicrous! We can’t just let that poor man stay up, it’s clear as day how exhausted he is!”

Mipha let out a small laugh, though it was mainly at her brother’s reaction rather than Link remaining awake. “I’m serious!” he continued. Didn’t you see the way he shook when he stood up and walked? Surely we won’t be able to put a dent in the Calamity if he’s in a similar state!”

She shook her head. “I was laughing at the way you’re so adamantly coming to his defense. It’s good to see that you’re still the hatchling I remember. Always kicking a fuss when he couldn’t get his way.” She meant no offense to her brother, and was quick to put his shock at her words to rest. “But you’ve grown…and it’s nice that your stubbornness for someone else’s sake rather than your own.”

She gave a heavy sigh though as she changed the topic. “I wish it were so easy to tell him to get some rest, believe me, I’ve tried. But it’s complicated. He takes his job as Zelda’s personal knight almost too seriously…”

Sidon huffed in response, crossing his arms, and then quickly uncrossing them as he saw his sister already laughing once more. Though as he passed a small faction of Hylian guards left over from King Rhoam’s army the wheels in his head began to turn. As he turned from his sister she looked on as he approached them, all smiles as he propositioned them for the chance that, as he would phrase it, could make or break their career as a knight and a hero.

“Gentlemen! I hope you are in high spirits after today’s grueling yet victorious fight! Say, are any of you lot on night watch? I was hoping we might have a moment to talk.”

---

As Link stood outside the tent, soon taking a sitting position as his legs were too tired to continue standing, he was quickly met with a problem. While there was nothing going on around him that put them all in any heightened state of alertness, that meant his mind had nothing to occupy itself. And with nothing to stimulate his mind, he quickly found himself succumbing to sleep.

He tightened his grip on his sword to try and force himself to stay awake, but as he rolled his head to stretch his shoulders he felt his eyes becoming heavy. And then shaking his head awake only worked in the beginning. Frustrated, he finally rested his chin against his chest. Perhaps if he let himself relax, just a small bit, it would be enough to keep him going.

It wasn’t long until he dozed off, lucky that his sword didn’t go clattering onto the ground.

Nearby, Sidon was leading the guard brave enough to volunteer his services towards Princess Zelda’s tent. “I don’t know if this will work, your highness. Master Link is very particular and doesn’t appreciate others meddling in how he keeps watch over the princess.”

Sidon waved that concern away. “Oh no, no, no, don’t think of it as meddling! Think of it as…” he paused for a moment, he needed to really sell this, “training! Yes, her personal knight is the Hero of Hyrule after all, perhaps you could learn some useful tips from him! Consider this akin to an apprenticeship!”

As they got closer he raised his hand to wave to Link, fully committed to convincing the other that he ought to really show this eager guard the ropes of what it took to be a true hero. Though upon closer inspection, and thankfully before his boisterous voice said anything to disturb him, he noticed Link had fallen asleep. Aha. He knew the other had been tired.

“Hmm…” he said, pausing for one moment to think. It occurred to him moments later what he could do. "Wait right here," Sidon said, and quickly retreated to his tent, where he took one of the blankets that had been given to him to use off the mattress. It wasn’t in the best shape and was far too small for himself, but was the perfect size to cover Link’s small frame and provide him some form of warmth while he got some much-needed rest.

He made haste in going back towards Zelda's tent where the Hero sat sleeping and the other guard stood waiting nervously. When he returned he carefully draped it over Link’s body, careful as he got closer so he didn’t wake him.

Much better. He stood up and pat the other guard on the back. “You can put your best foot forward to stay on guard. Wake him in case anything happens, but I have the utmost faith you will rise to the occasion.”

Giving the guard a thumbs up and whispering his thanks, Sidon moved to return to his own tent.

TBC

Do I know the order of events in the game? No. Do I care? Maybe a little. But this game doesn’t care about continuity, so why should I?

This is my first time writing fanfiction in…uh…ten years? Okay well not my first time in ten years. My first time in ten years was a few weeks ago for the SidLink gift exchange. That said, it’s my first multi-chapter fic in ten years.

I’ll do my best to keep updates…somewhat regular. If I can crank out 2-3 chapters a month that would be awesome. But I’m busy as hell 80% of the time. And the 15% I’m not busy I tend to spend on a nap. Constitution Day is coming up though so I’ll have some free time at the end of April and beginning of May.

Fingers crossed. I desperately want to get into writing again. That gift exchange fic was a good kick in the pants and I hope it lasts.

Thanks. And see you.

#sidlink #sidon x link #aoc link #aoc sidon #aoc mipha #botw sidon #botw fanfic #botw aoc #probably gonna be slow burn #i don't know #this is based on an rp #and i decided to sit my ass down to write it #this is only the first few entries in the rp and I managed to flesh it out to over 2k words #umm i guess theyll bone in the earlier chapters so maybe not a slow burn #but there gonna be angst folks #buckle up buttercup

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years

Text

Little Bird: Chapter 39 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 38 here. Part 40 here.

Summary: The WHO probably doesn't recommend you do any of these things while pregnant.

Words: 9900

Warnings: tw: graphic depictions of big time violence, both physical AND sexual, DUBIOUS consent, voyeurism

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Hello, welcome back to my horror show! Hahaha.

Thank you very much for your patience in me waiting to get this chapter out. As you can tell, it is a beast. I genuinely hope you enjoyed it as apology for the long wait.

Cannot thank everyone's kindness and thoughtfulness enough. Your comments always, always brighten my day. I love y'all with my whole heart.

“So the plan is to flank them.”

“We’ll flank them here--Kuruk, Ap’lek, and you will take the east side. Cardo, Trudgen, and myself will take the west.”

“Where do we pull over, then? We won’t be able to get the Buzzard that close.”

The Night Buzzard was split into three sections--the front third was dedicated to food and supplies storage and an imitation of livable seating, the second third designated entirely for weaponry. The rear of the bus consisted of four stony, stripped bunks, beds in function only.

The Knights Templar--save for one, who was driving--had spent the past hour out of the six-hour journey at the front. They crowded over a map, debating their strategy while you watched, perched on the tiny couch across from them. Your Commander loomed beside you, silent, the knife of his gaze occasionally slipping over you, so sharp it slit you through his mask. He had hardly spoken a word since you’d boarded; the quick, piercing glances were the only evidence you had that he remembered you were there--a feat while stuck in close proximity on an armored bus.

“A five-hundred foot perimeter is typical.”

“Five-hundred feet gives them too much opportunity. The Buzzard has jammers.”

“Jammers don’t mask the sound of the engine, ‘Shar.”

“All right then, Vic, but the more space we give them, the greater chance they have of escape.”

Kylo Ren turned to them. “The primary objective is to destroy the subversives. Flank the encampment, salvage what documentation you can, kill any that cross your path.” He paused. “Leave Pryde to me.”

His voice was cold, even through the modulation. You sulked into the corner of the couch, anxiety knitting in your chest. To be near your Commander brought you a sense of peace, but the unanswered question of your future--your child’s future--left you lurching. You longed for a moment, two moments alone with him, an opportunity to search his eyes and find liberty in his response. Perhaps in a hormonal, pregnant haze, you’d imagined it like a prophecy: his large hands, curling around yours, his lip trembling with fear, his silence a concession. And you’d imagined the words swirling into your ears, granting you everything you’d grown to need.

I’m choosing you, he’d breathe.We’re free.

But staring at him now, hidden under a helmet, armored, toting a rifle and pistol, you weren’t sure where the man in your prophecy might be. You weren’t sure if that particular man had ever existed at all.

The bus shuddered, striking into rough terrain; beyond the tinted windows, you could make out a field blanched under the quarter-moon, wild maize exploding through the grasses.

“We’re about half a mile out,” called the driver--Kuruk, you thought.

At this, Kylo opened a cabinet and grabbed two devices--they beeped and hissed when he turned them on, and he fiddled with them both in a sort of calibration before crouching to be level with you. He pushed one into your hands, stowing the other one on his hip.

“This frequency is full-duplex. We will hear each other at all times. If someone unfamiliar to you even glances at the Night Buzzard, you will call for me.” He pinched your chin between leather fingers, angling your eyes into the void of his mask. “Do you understand?”

Your cheeks burned. You swallowed. “Yes, Commander.”

He huffed--static in the mask--and patted your cheek. “Good girl.”

As you blushed, he stood and crossed to the Knights. They steeped themselves in hushed discussion until the driver signaled their arrival. With a rumble, the Buzzard slowed, coasting to a stop behind a smattering of trees, and through the darkness, you could spy a collection of distant glowing lights, cold and artificial. One of the Knights murmured something about cutting a generator, and Kylo nodded. A brief, mustered agreement, and the doors opened, the soldiers filing out, leaving their leader behind. He turned to you a final time.

“The exterior is bulletproof. The door will lock.” His presence was heavy. You wished you could touch him. “At even a glance.”

“I know.” You gazed at the transceiver, its power light blinking like a heartbeat. “I will.”

Kylo held you under his stare for a lingering second before stomping down the steps and exiting the Buzzard. With everyone now gone, the air seemed stale. Empty. Sighing, you rose to your feet, dragging yourself to the driver’s seat and plopping into it, cradling the radio in your lap. The only noise filtering through the speaker was muffled static.

Though you could only see from several hundred feet away, the camp seemed unassuming, composed of a couple dozen military vehicles and a bunch of pitched tents that appeared half-packed away. They’d said the encampment was moving tonight--the Buzzard’s dash read 10:42 PM. Bodies bustled under the lights, Angels in black uniforms and armed with rifles carting indiscernible armfuls to store them on trucks. You scanned the fields, searching for your Commander, but found nothing. Kylo Ren and his men had disintegrated into the dark.

It started with a flicker--the camp’s lights fluttered like a flame--and a black veil swallowed the outer ring of the perimeter. The men in your sight seemed confused, not concerned, spinning to examine the issue, creeping forward. And then one dropped with a crack, the items in his arms tumbling free, his body folding into itself as it hit the ground. With firecracker panic, the camp erupted, soldiers revealing their rifles and whirling in sloppy formation, only to watch other comrades smack the dirt, shot dead in random, bloody heaps.

A coordinated effort was abandoned, and the Angels scattered, rifled roaches under dying halogen lights. But their attempts to hide were futile--the second they found shelter, another layer of lighting winked out, and they scuttled to the center, shooting volleys of gunfire in no particular direction. It was only then you caught them--the Knights, cutting through the camp like raven razors, collapsing tents and impaling bodies as they passed. A pair was back to back, twirling as one clotheslined two Angels and the other emptied a clip into an approaching squad. A third covered those two, winding around them and unleashing a full automatic round into the camp.

Then a sharp bang, white fire--you winced--the men in the camp stiffening in temporary paralysis. In their stupor, the other three Knights descended, sharks consuming a helpless meal, rending their prey into paper shreds. One Knight slit a man’s face from ear to ear, a crest of blood in the dirt, and twisted his knife into the back of his mouth. The man screamed into the sky, so loud you heard it from the Buzzard, and then through the transceiver, followed by echoes of furious voices demanding order in new, terrible chaos.

The horror picked up the pace of your heart--this was different than the times you’d watched Kylo. Their savagery was almost sadistic; a thought confirmed when two Knights paused their spree to watch an Angel wriggle like a split worm, kicking him as his blood clumped mud under his chest. You swallowed, tearing your eyes away as another section of lights died, plunging the entire camp into darkness. Shouting choruses of strained voices ripped through the radio, the only sign of activity the sparks of muzzle fire and shifting shadows under the moon.

Staccato pops pierced the speaker, and you jumped, focus darting between the device and the absolute nothing you could see beyond the bus. And then a voice, familiar--the man you remembered as Pryde.

“Took you long enough, Ren.” Another round of gunshots. “Three weeks to pin us down?”

Two shots, louder, closer. “Easier to find rats when they have nowhere to hide.”

“You’re willing to bet on that.” A single pop.

“Betting implies faith in the outcome.” A pause. “I don’t have faith. I have knowledge.”

A cacophony of shots staticked the speaker, and you clapped your hands over your mouth, silencing your squeals. You glanced out the window, still seeing nothing but the twinkles of the Knights’ massacre. Like dust, the exchange settled, someone panting over the channel. From the clarity of breath, it didn’t sound like Kylo.

“Impossible,” said Pryde. “There are cells that you can’t possibly--won’t possibly ever know about.”

“You’re willing to bet on that.”

Something crossed through a shaft of starlight, moving toward the Buzzard. You blinked, inching toward the dashboard. It was difficult to see in the darkness.

“You pushed Gilead too far.”

“I’m improving it.”

“Your improvements are borderline treason.”

“You’re heading a coup.”

Explosions of noise through the radio, a growling scrape--your throat tightened. The shadow was definitely human. It was definitely coming closer. Running.

You grabbed the transceiver, holding it to your mouth. “Um. Commander?”

The only response was static, a party of bullets through the speaker. Fear stabbed your chest, your pulse in your ears.

“It will never be treason to restore Gilead to God’s word.” Another crackle. “I’m righting your mistakes.” More gunfire. “This isn’t a coup, it’s retribution.”

“Commander,” you said, a little louder. “Sir.”

“You’ll need the support of the Council.”

It was an Angel. He was rushing the Buzzard with something, some sort of bag in his hand. It looked, maybe, wiry. It looked, in your mind, like a bomb.

Your heart careened--why wasn’t he listening, why wasn’t he answering--and you fumbled the radio, sending it tumbling onto the floor of the bus and under your feet. The light stopped blinking.

“Fuck.” You tried to kick it toward you, managing only to knock it under the seat. “Fuck! Kylo! Kylo!”

Of course, there was no response.

“You think you have the support of the Council? You’re no Snoke. You never will be.”

You scrambled to the floor, knees scratching metal. Reached for the transceiver.

“I killed Snoke.” A clatter of metal--you snagged the device and flung it toward you. “This is my destiny.”

Turning it on, you screeched, “Kylo please there’s someone running with a bag please help!”

The sound of a gunshot. An inhuman snarl. And the radio went dead.

“Kylo?” you said. “Commander? Sir?”

A shriek of fire erupted in the camp, spewing dirt and smoke into the air, and you screamed, shouting nonsense into the transceiver, as if this would summon him to your side. The explosion guttered in seconds, flames trickling to death, fog fading. There was no sign of the Knights. Or your Commander.

Your heart thudded. Something could’ve happened to him. He could be dead. But there was no time to process or consider it. You were alone in the Buzzard. With the Angel only coming closer. One hundred possibilities reeled through your mind--he could be escaping, defecting, taking this chance to denounce his chains--yet the only one you could consider was the one that involved him blowing you and the bus to whichever afterlife actually existed. Running wasn’t an option, if he did blow up the bus, with you being in the middle of nowhere and with no places to hide. There was only one other choice. Before anything and everything else, you needed to survive.

Steeling your jaw, you scrambled toward the second third of the bus, threw open the weaponry cabinets and stared at the assembly of rifles, shotguns, pistols, and other deathbringers. There was no leisure to figure out how to use a new type of gun--you barely knew how to use one. You snatched a pistol, testing its weight in your palm before fussing to find the safety. Your fingers found the magazine release instead--it popped out, revealing a full clip, and you silently thanked whatever divine being allowed that to happen, because there was no way you would’ve checked to see if the stupid thing had bullets. The safety was already disengaged. Swallowing, you wiped your palms on your robe and tramped to the exit, chin quaking while you flipped the lock and opened the door.

The summer air stuffed your lungs, and you wheezed through it, stumbling into the dirt. Holding your breath, you sidled up to the Buzzard, spying the Angel sprinting through the grass. Your hands shook, stomach churned. There was no way you’d nail this shot. Unfortunately, you had to try.

Teeth gnashing, you tugged back the slide and raised your arms, elbows locked, fixing the sight of the pistol on the shifting shade. To account for delay, you led the barrel in front of his path, following him for one second, and two. You pulled the trigger.

Rattled by force, the bullet went wide, whizzing into space, and you gulped, watching as the Angel paused, searching for its origin. You hunted for oxygen, but the air was thick, ears shrill with terror. Adrenaline drunk, you threw your arms forward, aiming again. Fuck it. He still wasn’t moving. This time, you wouldn’t miss.

Lip curling, you fired, wrists flung back, and the Angel yelped, dropping a knee. You had only seconds to celebrate before he turned straight toward you, and your blood froze. He struggled to his feet, hand moving at his waist--you panted, unable to stop the rapid vibration wracking your joints as you tried to aim again. In a zombie shuffle, he leveled his own pistol and sent off a shot, pinging the steel next to your head.

“Fuck!”

You clung to the side of the Buzzard, heaving now, clenching the gun in your hands. You wanted to get it together. He still had that bag in his arms, and now he knew you were here. You needed to get it together. With his injury, he was holding his gun one-handed--the recoil recovery would be your chance. Every pulse of your heart clouded your sight--you drew in a slow, deep inhale through your nose, ignoring the flighty feather of thought in the back of your mind:

Where the hell was your Commander?

Shaking it off, you adjusted your grasp and spun the corner, moving to aim--another shot glanced off the bus, and you shrieked, falling to your knees. Growling, fight-or-flight flaring, you tracked the Angel, determined to win, and pulled the trigger.

And nothing happened.

“What the fuck,” you said, and smacked the gun, like this would help. You tried to shoot again, but nothing. “What the fuck!”

Your failure was the Angel’s opportunity--you glanced up, his arm already raised.

Pop.

Wincing, you waited for the pain. But none came. You blinked, peering into the grasses, and spotted the Angel, crumpled to the ground.

Commander Kylo Ren broke through the night, a cyclone through the fields--relief flooded you, fleeing your lungs--he was alive. He was here. And he was charging you like a tank.

“Kylo,” you breathed, and clambered to your feet, pulling your lips in over your teeth. But he didn’t respond. Your fight-or-flight stalled in his approach.

Palms wet, your grip slipped and the gun smacked the dirt, shooting a round into the grass. You flinched, neck hot, made to grab it, but before you could reach, a gloved hand gnarled your hair and whipped you back, hauling you onto the Buzzard.

You yipped in pain. “Kylo!” Tugging at his fingers, you tried to pry free as he yanked you up the steps, but he tightened his grip, wrenching you forward and tossing you onto the couch. “Will you--”

His mask snapped with static--he seized your face, pinching your cheeks. “You seem to have a penchant for bullets,” he said. “If you’re so interested, I’ll put another one in you myself.”

You glared at him, pushing him off. “Are you kidding?” you said. “I thought he had a bomb!”

Kylo grabbed your face again. “He was carrying documents. And your solution was to begin a shooting match.”

“Who cares?” you spat. “You’re the one who didn’t respond to the radio!”

He growled. “You may care little for your own life, but you are--”

In the distance, tires squealed, a vehicle spinning into the field--his head snapped toward the front, and he pushed you free, striding to the driver’s seat.

Without a word, he revved the engine and threw it into gear, slamming on the gas and peeling through the grass, speeding in the other vehicle’s direction. You jolted with the terrain, seeking purchase on the couch, but he jerked the shift into low gear, motor wailing as he plowed through the plains. Thrown forward, you grappled with the table across from you, peering through the windshield, watching Kylo barrel into the night.

You knew that he was in pursuit of Pryde. But your conversation didn’t feel finished. In the back of your mind, alarms blared: evidence, evidence of your inevitable fate. The man in your prophecy was a stranger. The one in your reality hadn’t come when you’d called him. He seemed reluctant to choose you at all.

The Buzzard roared, its acceleration impressive for its size, chasing the speeding sedan, catching its rear in its headlights. Focused, Kylo shoved the gearshift forward, and the engine howled, flinging you back to the couch with a yelp.

“Stop moving.”

You frowned. “It’s not like there are seatbelts back here.”

The sedan cut to the left, zooming toward a highway, and Kylo growled. “Get up here.”

Gripping the sides of the aisle, you pulled yourself toward the driver’s seat, and when you met the back of the chair, Kylo reached around, wound an arm around your waist, and dragged you on his lap. You squeaked--before you could adjust, he hit the brakes and jerked the wheel; the Buzzard whined, teetering in protest, and Kylo tugged you to his frame, shifting under you to keep you both from hitting the floor.

Your face burned--despite your frustration with him, he was large and warm underneath you, his chest steady at your back. Swallowing, you grabbed his thighs, hoping to steady yourself, and if he noticed, he didn’t care, letting you cling while he focused on the hunt. The sedan bumbled across pavement, sliced through the highway, back into the fields--Kylo smashed the gas, and the Buzzard flew over the asphalt with a smack, bouncing you on his lap, sending heat to your cheeks. The distance from his prey was negligible, now; the car was some type of black Volkswagen, the license plate glinting in the glare of headlights.

Kylo stiffened and lowered the window, buffeting you with gusts of syrupy air, and grabbed your hands, tacking them to the wheel. “Steer.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait--”

He brandished his pistol and stretched out--you jostled over his thighs--lining up a shot as you bore down on the car. Gritting your teeth, you kept the Buzzard straight as it rumbled over the dirt, and he tensed, firing two shots, blowing out his target’s rear tires. The Volkswagen whirled, a tornado in the grass spiraling toward you, set to collide with your front-end; you thought to do nothing else but swerve and spin the wheel. The sharp curve pitched the bus off of its side, and you cursed, the both of you thrown toward the steps.

A strong arm barred your waist, catching you and wresting you back, and a leather hand encompassed yours--Kylo slammed the brakes, righting the tires as the bus screeched to a stop feet away from the car, rocking you both into the driver’s side, his hold buffering you from injury. You panted, face and flesh hot, head airy; in the grass, Pryde scrambled from the Volkwagen into blinding light, a crimson streak through his scalp. He ducked, took cover behind his car and drew his pistol, lodging two shots in the windshield. You yelped--there was no chance to speak before Kylo pushed you off, his own pistol in hand as he shouldered his way through the bus door and into the glow of the Buzzard’s headlamps.

Pop, pop--the fire stalled your Commander’s advance, and he shielded himself with the bus’s body. Emblazoned with righteous furor, Pryde shot again, burying a bullet in the frame.

“You’re an idiot, Ren. You’ll do this forever. I won’t be the last.” From your height, you could see Pryde fussing with something. He must not have known you were there. “As long as you go against God’s plan, you’ll never win.”

Then he tossed whatever was in his hand, covering his eyes--a stabbing flash eclipsed your sight, its detonation drowning your ears, and you gasped, seething, curling at the waist. When the noise died, you groaned, rubbing the artifacts from your vision, peering into the field. In the seconds you’d been stymied, Pryde had disappeared. Your Commander shot into the car--nothing--and crept through the grass, head on a swivel.

Spits of gunfire from the driver’s side of the Buzzard, and Kylo juked back, landing them on opposite sides of the bus in a stand-off. You chewed your lip. Pryde definitely didn’t know you were there. And there was still a cache of guns in the cabinets. Turning, you snuck through the aisle--but when you reached the storage, a hail of bullets crackled from the Buzzard’s rear. Despite being inside, you bowed, heart in your stomach, pulse pounding with fear. You needed to keep going.

Swallowing, you threw open the door to the cache, plucking another pistol from its hook. You remembered your near-follies earlier: magazine, check. Safety, check. Slide pulled back, check. More sweat on your palms. Cursing to yourself, you wiped them on your robes again, shuffling to the front--and then another blast, another searing light. You hissed, knees buckling, gunshots echoing through your ringing ears. A grunt escaped you, your jaw tense, and you shook off the pain, forcing yourself to look through the windshield. Your eyes adjusted, unfuzzing, just in time to see Enric Pryde raise his gun and shoot your Commander twice in the chest.

It happened in split seconds. Kylo staggered, impact hampered by his bulletproof vest, his gun falling into the grass; you trapped a scream, your muscles burst with adrenaline. Bungling the pistol in your grip, you scaled the driver’s seat, blood soaring, brain baffled--you were doing this again you were seriously doing this again--and leaned out the window. Pryde approached, raised his weapon, training it on Kylo, and in that instant, your mind cleared, annoyance and worry and terror swallowed with rage, all of it coalescing into a single, solitary thought:

That’s my child’s father, asshole.

You steadied your arms, pulled the trigger--your ears trilled, elbows bowed--and Pryde howled, knee slamming the dirt. Pinching your lips together, you fought the urge to tremble, preparing to shoot again, but Kylo had already recovered. He lunged, tackling Pryde to ground, the other man’s pistol sailing into the air and disappearing into the dark.

Pryde twisted underneath your Commander’s weight, trying and failing to throw him off. “God doesn’t make exceptions, Ren!” Kylo clocked him in the jaw, and he choked, sputtered. “Gilead will never accept you making a whore your--”

Kylo’s fist clobbered his face, striking him over and over and over, blood spewing from his mouth, his nose, over his chin. You couldn’t sit down, something strange tingling your neck under the knowledge that the mention of you made him snap: a sick glimmer of affection, of hope. A disgusting delusion that, perhaps, he really could choose you. Bone cracked, Pryde’s cheek collapsed, and Kylo stopped, heaving, arm reeled back.

The older man wheezed, skull pulverized to a mess of meat. “Go ahead and kill me, Ren. But there’s no such thing as destiny. The longer you try to fight God’s design, the greater you’ll lose.”

“Interesting theory. But God doesn’t design Gilead.” Kylo glanced at you, still bent out of the Buzzard. Your heart fluttered--without him having to say it, you knew what he was asking. With an underhand, you lobbed him the gun, and he snatched it from the air, jammed it against Pryde’s broken chin. “I do.”

Pryde gagged, red drool dribbling from his lips. “You’re the devil.”

“Yes.” Kylo’s voice was mechanized malevolence. “I am.”

Pop. Blood spattered his visor, Pryde’s head lolled in the grass. At the same time you exhaled, slumping into the driver’s seat, your Commander’s shoulders bunched, then fell. He hung there, hovering over his victim. Silent, he stared for a moment before he rose, pistol in hold, and crossed to the bus.

You should have felt relief as the door opened and he stepped onto the Buzzard--his enemies vanquished, a victorious soldier, your body the spoils--but when he towered over you, your ribcage constricted with dread. Pryde’s words looped through your mind.

You’ll do this forever. I won’t be the last. The longer you try to fight... the greater you’ll lose.

They nagged you, clawed at the wrinkles of your brain. Because despite their origin, you knew--despite not wanting to know--that they were very, unfortunately, true. And if you knew that, then part of Kylo had to know that, too. Part of him had to know how shallow this victory was.

He flicked a switch on the dashboard, and picked up a wired transmitter, spinning a knob until static fizzed from the Buzzard’s radio. “Target eliminated,” he said, and reported a pair of coordinates. “Your status.”

Another voice came through the speaker--one of the Knights. “Documentation obtained. Encampment neutralized. En route shortly.”

Without a word, he flicked the switch and replaced the transmitter.

“Um. So.” Shifting in the seat, you gazed at him, seeking his eyes through the visor. “Will this ever stop?”

A tired hm was all he offered.

You sighed, pulling the robe closed over your chest. “I mean, will you always be fighting just so we can be together?”

He stood, solid, staring. Or not staring. It was too difficult to tell. Either way, he said nothing.

“I know that’s what you want.” You shrugged. It was easier to look at him when you didn’t know if he was looking back. “For us to be together. But this isn’t going to work.”

His head tilted a single millimeter. “Work.” It was more of a question than a statement.

“If this is what it’s going to be, then it won’t work.” The words hung, heavy in the air, and you paused, waiting for his response. You received none. So you continued. “There’s another way, though.” Leveling him with your gaze, you held your breath. “We can just leave.”

Kylo snorted, turning into the aisle. “We don’t need to leave.”

“We do.” You shook your head. “He’s right, Kylo.” You crossed your arms. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. You have to realize that you can’t make this perfect. It’s broken.”

“Of course it is.” He returned the pistol to the weapons rack. “It’s broken because I’m not finished.”

You frowned. “Well, it really doesn’t matter what you do,” you replied, “if it involves Gilead at all, then I don’t want it.”

He spun on his heel. “You don’t want it?” he asked, voice rising. “Is this not enough?”

Raising a brow, you caught a laugh in your chest. “Of course it’s not enough! How could it be? I told you--I’ll always want more.”

“More? More than what?” Kylo stalked through the aisle, heel-ball-toe. “Haven’t I kept you safe?” He was a black condor, cornering you in the driver’s seat. “Fucked you well?”

Heat seared your face. “It was because of you that I was in danger anyway!” Shaking your head again, you allowed your chest to puff out in indignance. “None of it is enough when you’re free, and I’m not.”

“No,” he said, “you were in danger because of imperfection. People assigned to the wrong roles. People failing to fulfill the roles they were meant to fill.” He edged closer. “Freedom is inconsequential under perfect design.”

“Your design is bullshit, your roles are bullshit!” You jumped to your feet, bumping his breast, and his shoulders tensed--but you ignored it, and pushed past him into the aisle. “As long as you try to force things on people, they’ll never be happy.” Flustered, you gestured toward him. “Hell, you’re not even happy! I know you aren’t!”

The prophecy seemed distant and comical, now. But the inevitability of this reality was almost too painful to admit--the fact that despite your pregnancy, he was still unwilling to forgo his stance. The facts were that you would never be with Kylo Ren, he would never know his child, you would never be allowed to have him, and he would never understand your needs.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of nevers welled in your throat, flooded your eyes, nevers that never should have been, and nevers that never would be. Never whispering his name, never waking up in his arms, never seeing him cradle his child, and never falling asleep next to him in a future where he was your home and your family, a future where you would feel his lips on yours, naked in your shared bed, feeling safe, feeling secure, feeling loved.

Your throat was tight. “I’m… I’m pregnant, Kylo. I don’t want to raise my child in a world where it can’t know choice. I don’t want to fulfill whatever you believe my role is!” Scanning him, you stiffened your jaw, and his fists tightened, his leather gloves squelched. “I want to be with you. I do. But it can’t be like this.” Steel sharpened your tone. “As long as you have Gilead, you’ll never have me.”

You pivoted, stepping toward the back of the bus--but a leather-bound hand grasped your neck and whipped you back, curled you against his chest, a metal muzzle at your face. Frowning, you squirmed, and he halted you with ease, subsuming you in his strength.

“That’s where you’re mistaken.” The sound coming from the mask was not one you recognized. “I already have you.” His free hand skated down your stomach. “I’ve already won.”

“Get off of me, Kylo.” You moved again, but he shook you in his hold.

“You said it yourself,” he replied. “You wanted this. You wanted my child.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Your skin tingled from his proximity, from the electric silk in his voice. “You have my body. That doesn’t mean you have my mind.”

“So you say. Yet you pulled a gun on Pryde. You helped me end his life.” He huffed, a human rumble in his throat. “Who would do that other than someone who wanted what I wanted, too?”

You tried to shake your head, stuck in his grasp. “I don’t want what you want.” Something flickered low in your abdomen. “I don’t want to fulfill a role.”

Kylo shifted, his hand sliding from your neck into your hair, coiling around it. “You already are fulfilling your role.” Every word forced you to resist the urge to whimper. “You want to be mine. And you want it so badly that you’re willing to forsake everything to have it.”

Shame streaked through you, hotter than hell itself, and you cried out, shoving him back, only for him to grapple you and flatten you along the pantry chest first, smothering you, stoking horrified heat under your flesh. He wrenched your arm behind your back with ease, his boots framing your feet, his hips pinning your backside.

“Don’t deny it,” he said. “You know I’m right.”

“No.” Most of you was sure he wasn’t right. But the tiny twinkle that shivered at the thought of forever being his, no matter the cost, agreed. Your chin trembled. “You’re wrong.”

Another rumble, deep in his chest. “Am I?” His pelvis pressed against you. “You’re willing to deceive Johana. Manipulate the Resistance.” One hand wagged your scalp, the other holding your hip as you wiggled under him. “You’re willing to watch others die. You’re even willing to kill.”

“Stop.” You panted, hating the rush of excitement to your thighs, hating that his words were making sense. “That’s not--that’s not how it is.”

“But this is how it works.” A slow exhale left him. “Neither of us have ever had choices. You realize that, now. This is who we’re meant to be.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” Kylo’s fingers dug into your hip. “You’re meant to be mine. And I’m meant to own you, to own all of this.” He inhaled, the noise hollow in his helmet. “You’re never escaping me.” His weight compressed you along the cabinet, shortened your breath. “And I’m never letting you leave.”

Terror exploded into wrath. It couldn’t be true. “No!” You writhed underneath him, but he weighed on you like a boulder. “Fuck! Get off of me!”

A low, quiet noise of amusement knocked in his throat. “Poor thing. You want to avoid it. But this is what you want.”

“No, it’s not!”

“It is.” He nuzzled his helmet against your head. “You’re as much me as you ever were. The only difference…” He hummed, hand at your hip massaging the flesh. “I admit who I am.”

Desire thickened your throat, your heart crumpled in despair. How dare he, how dare he make you believe he cared for you--then reveal it was a ploy to land you exactly where he’d wanted. And nothing he said had been wrong. Despite your best intentions, your earnest efforts, there was still no one’s life you cared to save--outside of your own--other than his. You tried to steady your lungs, ignoring the rising urge to have him even closer.

“I know who you are,” you said. “I know you’re better than this.”

“You do?” Kylo Ren snickered. “You’re mistaken, angel. Didn’t you hear what he said?” His muzzle, cold carbon, met your ear. “I’m the devil.”

A surge of lust swirled in your belly, and you screamed, thrashing, trying to throw him off. He ceded an inch, and you shouldered him back, only for him to wrap his hand around your throat and spin you, back smacking the cabinet. One arm framed your head, the other driving into your chest, and you swallowed against him. Scowling, you stared into the empty facade of his mask.

Even in his assuredness, you would never tell him how deep you’d fallen--it was the final thing he couldn’t take. After all, every other line you’d meant to draw had long been washed by the waves of your selfish hunger. Hunger that, even in this moment, barked with greed.

His mask tilted, dipping over your figure--your robe was askew, revealing half of your breast, your stomach peeking through the gap--and his grip on your neck tightened, fuzzing your pulse. Your knees weakened, even as you hoped to raze him to the floor with your eyes. Kylo huffed with restrained excitement.

“Mm. You’re trembling.” His thumb stroked your wild heartbeat. “You’re hot.”

“Fuck you,” you said. “You’re disgusting.”

“Perhaps I am.” The hand above your head slipped under your robe, leather skimming your skin. “But we both know how you love to revel in filth.”

Air caught in your chest--this bastard--you rolled your tongue in your mouth, jaw tense, and you sucked in a breath, spitting a fat glob straight onto his mask.

Kylo hissed, lifting you by the neck until your feet dangled, slamming your skull into the cabinet. You grunted, digging the heels of your palms into his shoulders, kicking his stomach--but he was a mountain, immune to your timid storm. His sheer size neutralized your effort, and he leaned close, flattening you along the pantry, paralyzing your limbs.

“If you know what’s good for you,” he purred, deadly soft in the mask, “you’ll clean that up.”

Hunger wasn’t barking, now. It was howling. And you wanted to stoke its appetite.

“You’re right,” you replied. “How rude of me.”

Smirking, you gathered another wad of spit at the top of your palate--and after a long, obvious scrape of your throat, you hocked it at his eyes.

Hurled through the air, you crashed into the aisle, feeling footsteps quake the floor. You spun onto your ass, scurrying backwards on your palms, Kylo chasing you in long, livid strides. You heaved, heart pounding, crawling until your back connected with a metal frame. One of the beds. Before you could think to dodge, he ripped you up by your hair and onto your knees, slapping you hard across the face.

“Nasty little bitch.” His grip curled at your scalp, his other hand groping his now-obvious arousal. “You must have forgotten what your mouth is for.”

You sneered. “I’m fairly certain it’s for cursing you.”

White pain whacked your cheek, and he shook you back to reality, your vision swimming. He’d undone his belt, and pulled free his angry, erect cock. “Drop your jaw, little bird,” he murmured. “Before I break it off.”

When you hesitated, Kylo drove his thumb into your mouth and hooked it behind your teeth, tugging it down to receive his length. You stared at him, contempt simmering in your eyes, exhilaration careening through your blood. Of course you were infuriated with him, but this only seemed to incense your passion, rather than dampen it--perhaps, in that way, you were like him, too. As his cock slipped over your tongue, you let loose a soft moan, and he released you, allowing you to seal your lips around his thick, heavy shaft.

Both hands shot into your hair, holding you still while he rocked into your mouth, and you hummed, gazing into his visor, wondering what he looked like behind the mask. Your tongue pressed to the underside of his dick, earning a growl from his chest, and he jerked your neck back, sliding in deeper.

“Use your hands,” he said. “Unless you want me to fuck your throat.”

You rolled your eyes--but encircled the base anyway, struggling to fully wrap around his girth. Groaning, your lids fluttered while you drooled onto him, slicking your saliva down his length, bobbing your head while you struggled to keep your attention trained on his face. His cock filled your mouth, the tip poking your soft palate, and you sucked, revealing in his sharp intake of air as you tightened your grip. Even if you never did this again, having him in your mouth was a feeling you’d take to your grave--the hot silk skin at your lips, the pulsing on your tongue, the sore stretch to your jaw--all of it made you throb, made you ache for more.

“Mm, that’s right.” He adjusted his grasp, urging you back and forth on his cock, making you gag. “Much better than hearing you speak.”

Narrowing your lids, you pulled your lips back, letting your teeth catch on his shaft--Kylo grunted and jerked out of you, backhanding you in the jaw. You wailed, your sight spun with pain, but your cunt was soaked, dripping and clenching with your escalating need.

“Fuck y--” you began, before he yanked your head back and shoved his dick down your throat.

You retched, choked, vision flooding with tears, but with him handling your hair like reins, he trapped you there, your mouth a helpless hole for him to fuck. He snapped his hips, his dick bulging in your neck, his breath labored with the pace of his thrusts. Sweat spilled down your back, and you retched again as his cock twitched on your tongue, cranked your jaw wide, plunged in and out of your throat.

“You pretend to fight.” The words were husky under modulation. “But you love it. You’re a slut for my cock.”

Under the noise of your groaned assent, you heard it: beyond the perimeter of the Buzzard, an unmuffled motor, advancing fast. The Knights had arrived. A thrill lit up your spine; perhaps it was the anger with your Commander--a spiteful need to make him jealous--or the fact you were more aroused than you’d been in weeks, but the thought of being caught by them, just like this, flashed fire at your neck and between your legs. You whimpered with anticipation.

But if Kylo had noticed, he didn’t seem to care--he clutched your head, reveling in the wet warmth of your throat as you swallowed around him. Voices echoed in the stark night air outside of the bus, growing closer, and you imagined them seeing you as they walked in fresh from battle: a moaning, wanton whore on her knees, sucking their leader’s cock.

It was too much--your fingers dipped between your legs, and you teased your clit, sobbing in pleasure. Your Commander growled and pulled out, tucking himself away, and you sputtered, both hands bracing the floor while you gulped down oxygen.

“Dirty fucking slut.” He crouched, elbows on his knees, and grabbed your face. “You want them to watch me fuck you.” His thumb traced your swollen lower lip. “Don’t you?”

The doors to the bus opened. And your smirk drew up in a sneer.

“If you think you can handle other men looking at your property.”

Kylo Ren seized you by your hair again. “I can do more than handle it.” Standing, he hoisted you to your feet. “I’ll order it.” He tossed you into the aisle with such force that you stumbled, knees scraping the floor.

The Knights ascended the steps, stopping mid-board. Humiliation scorched your nerves, you strangled a moan at the thought of how you must appear--robe splayed open to reveal your underwear, your face moist, hair mussed--and how obvious it would be to them what you’d just been doing. You swallowed your desire as the half that had climbed onto the bus now stood in silence observing you, a broken-wing bird, at the mercy of her ravenous Commander.

“Get on. Sit down.” Kylo’s voice was eerily calm behind you--the Knights filed in, stuffing themselves together around the tiny table and couch. “This is your entertainment, tonight.” His boots resonated with his approach. “If there’s even an inch of movement toward her, I will bleed you dry on the Buzzard and leave your body for worms.”

They nodded, but did not reply.

“Now.” He wove his fingers through your hair again, and you winced, scalp tender. But he whirled you around anyway, shoving your nose into his crotch. His cock strained against his pants. “Where were we?”

You bit your lip, sliding your hands up his strong thighs. “I don’t remember, Commander.” What you were doing was incredibly devious, and certifiably insane. But the thought of embarrassing him in front of his men was a small salve on your fury. And the temptation of the consequences had your body demanding more. “It must not have been very... impressive.”

Kylo snarled and slammed your back to the weapon cabinet, grinding his covered cock into your face. “What was that?” he said. “Answer carefully.”

Heartbeat in your ears, you mouthed at the fabric of his pants, gazing at him. “I said,” you replied, nuzzling the bulge with your cheek, “that it must not have been very--” you dragged your tongue along the length, “--impressive.”

“Hm.” His hand drifted from your head to your throat. “That’s what I thought.” He clamped down, knocking your skull on the cabinet and compressing your artery, and you wheezed, pressing your thighs together. “Strip.”

You stared into his mask, blood beating at your temples--you wanted to speak, but found no words.

“Hurry,” he said, “before you pass out.” The pressure increased. “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Now woozy, the back of your brain dared you to let him do it, but you figured passing out wouldn’t be smart to do while pregnant (getting slapped, thrown, and choked, however, apparently fine). You shuffled your robe down your shoulders, vision blurring while you unlatched the hooks on your bra and shimmied it onto the floor. The last articles were your boots and underwear, which required you to wriggle in his hold, the movement eating the edges of your sight--and then they were gone, and he released you, waiting as you collapsed, naked, against the storage.

The Knights’ heads were aimed toward you--and to your surprise, at least two were already rubbing themselves through their pants. Your cunt pulsed.

“Now.” A gloved hand slid into your hair again, leather tugging at the strands, while his other hand wrestled free his hard cock, the tip gleaming with pre-cum. “Where were we?”

He rammed into your mouth, and you shuddered, ignoring the urge to vomit, your delighted moans hiccuped by the vigor of his strokes. Drool doused your chin, coated your lips, and your bleary focus wandered to his soldiers, one of whom had leaned back, his chest rising, another palming himself faster. They were watching you, watching you get throat-fucked by the man who owned you, watching as you bloomed a film of sweat, watching as you loved it, your pleading, wretched face begging to be abused.

“See how badly they want you,” he muttered. “But you’re mine. It’s all--fuck--all for me…”

Another reminder--Kylo Ren was going to keep you, he did not want to let you go, and would never, ever see you as you saw him--but you ignored it, choosing to suffocate yourself in desire instead, to stave off this stupid fucking reality where you were a stupid fucking slave in stupid fucking love with her stupid fucking Commander.

Eager to dust away the cobwebs of your misery, your hand snuck between your legs, ghosting over your folds to tease your clit, and you groaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Kylo snickered.

“Look at you,” he said. “Such a whore for me. Willing to--to make yourself cum in front of a group of masked men.” He jammed his dick deep, pressing your nose to his pubic bone, and you flailed, choking on him. “Is that what you want, slut? For everyone to know what you look like when you cum?”

You tried to nod, or to agree in any way--because yes, fuck yes, you wanted his men to watch you cum for him, to have them envy you and him and have them stroke their cocks and spill their seed while they dreamed of fucking your pussy and--

Perhaps pregnancy hormones were more powerful than you’d initially thought.

Kylo slipped out of you again, and you gasped, panting, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead, smearing the spit from your mouth. It had already dribbled onto your tits. Every part of your body felt swollen, and every part of your body wanted release. A leather finger tilted your chin toward his visor.

“Then we’ll make you cum.”

He laid you out on the aisle and spread your legs, and you craned your neck back, meeting a wall of the Knights, seated in a half-circle, all focused on you. You licked your lips, hoping to entice them--and then two gloved fingers pried open your folds, and before you could brace, they drove in, filling your pussy. Crying out, you shivered, clenching around him, hips gyrating to seek more of his touch.

Kylo’s breath quickened, his thumb circled your stiff clit, pleasure sweeping over you, and you twisted your neck, wanting a better view of the front of the bus. One of the Knights was guiding two digits up and down his shaft, another working himself free, the rest now prepping themselves, waiting to touch their cocks. The sight shuddered you, made you writhe, made your core throb and your flesh burn.

“Desperate whore.” He swirled your nub faster--you throttled a moan. “See what I do to you.” His fingers curled and twisted inside of you, petting your walls. “You’re ready to cum for faces you’ve never even seen.”

“Jesus.” Three of the Knights were stroking themselves, now, one of them fully fisting his shaft, pumping it in rhythm with Kylo’s hand. Heat blazed your thighs, forcing you toward ecstasy. “Fuck. Commander…”

Kylo grunted, a needy noise in his throat. “There we go,” he said. “Who else can make you cum like this?” He snapped his wrist, a third gloved finger pushing inside of you, his thumb tracing your clit, and you whined, back arching, air cycling faster in your lungs. “Tell me you want to stay.” You heard a soft shuffle beyond your waist--you knew he was jerking off. “Tell me, and I’ll let you cum.”

Flames flicked your neck, ire popping your bubble of bliss. Did he think he was winning? You swiveled to meet his vacant gaze. “I can cum whenever I want.”

Switching motions, he scissored you wide, drawing zig-zags on your throbbing clit. “Don’t test me.”

You snarled and rolled, his hand pulling out when you staggered to your feet. It didn’t matter, in that moment, that you were naked and he had the capability to pulverize you under his heel--you wanted to piss him off, wanted him to feel even a fraction of the frustration that you felt, wanted him to destroy you as desperately as you wanted to destroy him.

Kylo stood, his arm shooting toward you, and you slapped him away, spitting at him again--he snagged your wrist and thwacked your cheek, and you howled, daggering your knee into his thigh. A feral noise tore through the mask; he clasped the back of your neck, lifting and smashing you into the weapons cabinet, massive chest pinning you there.

“Get off!” You pounded your fist into the helmet, pain echoing to your elbow. “Fuck!”

He grunted, collected your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head, the other shoving two fingers into your mouth until he reached the back of your tongue. “Be good,” he said, “or I’ll do whatever I need to do to make you.”

You leered at him, steeled your jaw, and bit down on his hand.

Before you could breathe, that hand crushed your throat, and he knocked your thighs apart with his knee, impaling your cunt on his cock. He drove into the hilt with a growl, and you sobbed in pleasure-pain against his grip, a sharp sting, your pussy stretching for his thick, hard length. Kylo pumped into you, ruthless, primal, his chest swelling with rapid air, as if he was possessed, every thrust pushing shaky noise from your lungs.

“That’s right.” His hips collided with yours, thumb toying with your pulse, his voice ragged with desire. “Now you’ll behave, won’t you?”

Whimpering, you gasped, the unsteady bloodflow buzzing your lips and cheeks. He flattened your wrists to the cabinet, grinding your joints to the aluminum, his weight compressing your ribcage, his strength holding you still. The drag of his dick inside of you was enough to make you wail, but the ferocity, the animalistic savagery in his thrusts had your cunt throbbing, spasming, ready to cum without him touching your clit. In seconds, he’d tamed you, drenched you in sweat, submerged you in ecstasy, dangling you at the edge of submitting to his authority.

Kylo eased off your neck. “Look at them.”

Straining, trembling, you did--and met six men, all huffing, all enraptured. Two had stood, hunched as they stroked their cocks, others leaned back, fucking into their fists, another one trailing his palm up and down his shaft. You ruptured with lust and groaned in satisfaction, throwing your legs around Kylo’s waist, taking the brunt of his fast, vicious thrusts.

“Fuck, yes.” He brutalized your cunt, hammering into it. “They want you. They want what I have.” Like a spark, you felt it--his gaze meeting yours from behind the mask. "They envy me. Am I not enough?”

You wheezed, drawing in quickened air. “N-no,” you said. “And you--you alone n-never will be.”

His fingers bit your flesh--he lifted you from the wall, supporting your ass and cradling your skull before he crushed you onto the aisle, sliding his cock deep into your wet cunt. Kylo hissed in pleasure as you sheathed him to the base, gliding out and driving in, skin smacking while he tugged you into his heaving, rabid frame.

“Fucking whore,” he muttered, burying the muzzle of his mask in your neck. “Why do you want to leave?” The words were pins through his teeth. “Why do you always want to leave?”

You wanted to respond, but the pace of his hips stole your breath, your words, your jaw dropped with pathetic whines. All you could do was let him fuck you into the floor, body bouncing with his force, elated to exist as a loyal, greedy hole.

“I’m going to destroy you,” he growled. “I’m going to split this pussy wide, and I’m going to pump you full of cum.” He groaned, shivering from his own words. “And when I’m done, my men will cover you in it, bathe you in it--fuck--like the filthy, vile slut you are.” The hand at your head grasped your hair, scraped your scalp, the other slipping between your legs, expertly rubbing the engorged bundle of nerves. “Now beg to cum.”

“God!” You squirmed in delight, orgasm swelling inside of you, begging to gush out over your flesh. But you wanted, needed just a little, tiny bit more. “Fuck you!”

Kylo leaned up, bolted one hand to your waist, while the other reeled back and cracked you like lightning across the face--your mind went black, your eyes went white, and inside of your mouth, your teeth went red.

“Beg for it!” He pummeled your pussy, stroking your clit, jerking you into each snap of his hips. “Fucking beg!”

“Christ!” At the edge of your sight, you could see the Knights, their cocks pink and throbbing, all ready to cum, all ready to shower you with it. “Please, please Commander, please make me cum!”

His hand shifted, a gloved seam skated your nub--you shattered, back lifting from the aisle, limbs trembling as euphoria burst into your blood. The pain, the violence, the passion, all of it needled into your climax, stretching it through your skin, crumbling into powerful aftershocks as Kylo pounded you through it. Then his hips stuttered, a low, bellowing sound escaping his mask; he thrust once, twice, three times, cock twitching at your core as he came, spilling his seed inside.

Through his panting breath, he pulled out, barked an order. “Cum on her face. Paint her like a whore deserves.”

Still floating to reality, your gaze strayed from the floor, only to be met with six men tromping to encircle you, jerking their dicks with feverish focus. You blinked, whined, biting your lip--and they broke, cursing and choking in bliss as they splattered your face with load after load of cum. Hot, sticky streams roped over your forehead, your nose, your mouth, a particularly hard shot splashing down your neck and across your tits. They gasped as their climaxes left them, cocks bobbing with the tail-ends of pleasure, viscous drops dripping onto your skin.

With the final adornment of seed, they collected themselves, muttering under their masks--likely for their own benefit, rather than yours--as they tucked themselves away and meandered back to the front. In the death throes of your exhibition, you were quaking, overcome with a sudden, desperate need to sleep. Your mind plummeted into a hole, exhaustion overcoming you, actual, real-life ramifications trickling into your consciousness.

Your scalp throbbed, your face burned, you ached at every exposed joint. You swallowed--your mouth had bled, too, a bit. Making to move, you winced, finding it too difficult, resigning yourself to curl up on the Buzzard’s floor. To any observer--and perhaps, in a way, even to you--Kylo Ren had just beaten and fucked the shit out of you. And yet you couldn’t imagine, in just this single moment, being any more sated or satisfied.

Large leather hands lifting you up tore you from your reverie, and you grunted out a sigh, adjusting as your Commander gathered you in his arms. The latent pain in your heart rejected this--you didn’t want his faux-affection, didn’t want him to pretend he cared. Not when you knew he refused to let you go.

Yet you could barely summon the energy to move yourself, and the drying globs of cum were wearing out their novelty. So you relaxed, plopping your head onto his shoulder.

Kylo carried you to one of the beds and sat, supporting you on his lap, shifting until his back was along the wall and your legs splayed over the mattress. He grabbed a towel that was folded over the bunk divider and wiped you clean, guiding the thin cloth over your semen-stained face. The movements were slow, tentative, swiping away the drool, sweat and cum, pausing when he passed a tender point of tissue. His breath was steady and even, the mask offering you nothing but an empty, vacant, stare.

Kylo Ren’s eyes had been the only way you had been able to know, or begin to guess, what was rolling through his mind. Now they were shielded, a barrier cleaving your connection in half. And denied his eyes, you were blinded, blinded from hope and joy and the open door to shared escape, left with a mockery of the man you knew.

You were going to fight the tears--there would be no crying now, not tonight or in future nights, for someone who did not want to see you free. But his strength was soothing, his hands a comfort, his presence more intoxicating than any other substance you’d known. He maddened you, pitted you, shimmered in your mind like a faraway star; he was your monster and your warrior, the eye of his own typhoon.

Every thread of your being was sewn irrevocably into his skin. And you when you shredded them clean, the both of you would bleed, pouring from patterned holes until you drowned in the pools of your own foolish dream.

Once he was finished, he sighed, that knife-stare slitting through you a final time before he rolled you off of his lap, leaving the bed while he guided you onto the mattress. You laid there, gazing at him in the dim bus light, one thousand heartbeats in your flesh. Kylo stepped away to grab your robe, and then returned, draping it over your tired frame before stopping to stare again. You wished he would hold you. You knew that he couldn’t.

“You’re not keeping me,” you whispered, “or our child.” You met his invisible eyes, unafraid. “I’m going to find a way to leave.”

Kylo tilted his head and crouched low, tucking away a lock of hair that had stuck to your forehead. He studied you, cupped your cheek in his palm, thumb caressing the bone, before releasing you, rising to his feet.

“We’ll see, little bird.” His voice was quiet, wickedly certain. “We’ll see.”

As he returned to the front, your lids fluttered shut, the night sweeping you into its embrace. Your cheek tingled, glittering with the ghost of his affection, your mouth fighting the smile that was sneaking onto your face.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #fanfiction problems #handmaid au #tw: violence #tw: dubious consent

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