#Claw marks may or may not be on the wrong spot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trippinsorrows · 11 days ago

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looking through your eyes + twenty four

authors note: this one gets pretty heavy. the next two chapters will also be heavy at points. please heed to cw/tw's.

cw/tw: fluff, angst, brief discussion of childhood sexual assault and child abuse, scene of violence against women

*this author does not condone nor support intimate partner/domestic violence.*

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Roman…” His name leaving her mouth is the perfect combination of breathy and whiny. “We–re gonna be late.”

For the first time in what feels like an hour, Roman lifts his head from her neck. She hates how noticeable the absence of his mouth is. “You really think I care about that?”

No. She knows he doesn’t care. But, she also dislikes being the reason for them being late. Because she's certain he has plans afterwards, and it doesn’t sit well with her knowing that she could play any type of role in any inconvenience he may encounter.

Her eyes shut as he brings his mouth back to her neck, sucking the spot that he’s clearly realized she has the most visceral response to. Toes curling, clawing at his shoulders and arms, it’s hard to tell who’s enjoying this more. Him or her.

Still, she manages to protest. “But, I—I care.”

Big hands traveling her body, she sighs quietly when he cups the swell of her breast giving her a gentle squeeze that has her thighs unintentionally gripping his waist. “You should have thought about that before you put this damn outfit on….”

Said outfit isn��t anything crazy, nothing fancy, just a cropped, sleeveless hoodie and dark yoga pants. However, it's the stretchy material that clings to clearly every part of her that he seemingly finds irresistible. Namely her ass and chest. Still, it's the typical type of outfit she would wear to train, which is exactly where they should be headed to right now. Though it seems her husband has another much more carnal destination in mind.

Blush growing, she tries again. “Roman, I—I’m serious.” His tongue circling across her inflamed skin as she groans against him. “You’re gonna l–leave another mark.”

“Good.” His response doesn’t entirely surprise her. Neither does the explanation. “You’re mine, and everyone needs to fucking know that shit.”

Mine

There’s something about that, something about his delivery, so strong and borderline aggressive that makes her insides melt a tad. Makes her smile grow. A good bit, she’s certain, stemming from the fact that it still blows her mind sometimes that a man like Roman Reigns could want her. Does want her. Even with all her….baggage.

He wants her.

Loves her.

For some reason, this makes it a bit easier to slide into that space of comfort and indifference he has regarding time and obligation. Makes her arch her chest into him as he stays true and firm to his determination in leaving her with his mark.

Though she’s not sure just what about this current situation makes her decide to bring this up now, it’s something she knows she really shouldn't push off anymore.

“R–Ro?”

He makes a sound against her. “Yes?”

“I—I need a favor.”

He sighs against her, lifting his head from her neck to match her nervous gaze. “Solana, doing things for you is never a favor.” He brings his hand to her chin, thumb caressing her skin. “It’s my job as your husband.”

His response, thus far, chips away some of the anxiety. Some. “But, this—this is kinda big.”

Eyes narrowing slightly, he asks, “how big?”

It feels kind of silly, Solana briefly dropping her gaze to his black shirt that’s stretched against his broad chest. “I—I need money.”

Roman just looks at her for a second, a huge smile breaking out on his face. “You need money?”

She nods. Slowly. “It’s—it’s a lot of money though.”

“I think we have different definitions of what a lot is, but go on.”

He’s probably not wrong, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the proposed amount of money probably needed is substantial compared to the average loan. Solana sits up fully, forcing Roman to also stand upright. He tugs her to the edge, her hands on his chest. “It’s…..it’s for Dr. Stratus.”

At that, she’s clearly lost him. “You need money for your psychiatrist?”

“Not—not like that.” Solana closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tries to gather her thoughts. “The girls were telling me they overheard that Dr. Stratus couldn’t secure an investor to keep the facility going and may have to shut down.”

He remains confused. “Okay…..”

“Roman, I don’t want that to happen.” She closes her eyes, thinking back to some of the information Gail has provided her as well as readings from her book. “Did you—did you know that 1 out of every 6 American women has either been raped or survived of an attempted rape?” Closing her eyes, she murmurs, “I was one of the ones.” Taking another breath, she notices his expression is darker. “But there are a lot more ones out there, Roman, and they need help just like I did. Dr. Stratus has a really great thing going, and I don’t—I don’t want to see it go away. I want—”

“Okay.”

She frowns. “Okay?”

“I’ll do it.”

Her stomach flutters. “Really?” She’s not sure what she was expecting, but for some reason, him so easily agreeing seems almost too good to be true.

Roman shrugs, pushing back some of her hair. “It’s important to you, and it clearly is, so I’ll do it.” That’s it. Nothing else. Just acquiescence.

“But, you don’t even know how much—”

“Doesn’t matter. You want it. I’ll make it happen.”

It’s overwhelming, really. Solana didn’t really think he would be upset with her request. She figured he’d want or need to think about it, which makes sense given it’s probably going to be in the six, maybe even seven figure range. But, that’s not the case. Instead, he’s just agreed without a second thought simply because she wants it.

Because it’s important to her.

Eyes watering, she throws her arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you.” It’s such a simple thing to say for such a big task. But, she also means it from the deepest part of her. For a man who doesn’t seem to think he’s a good person, she thinks the world of him.

The same way she’s certain their child will.

“While we’re on it, there’s something I need to talk to you about, too.”

And just like that, her smile is wiped, Solana pulling back and looking up. "Oh—okay.”

Something tells her she’s not going to like what she’s about to hear.

Roman’s intense eyes are focused on her, his index finger tracing along her jaw. “I have to go out of town next week.”

Yeah……definitely not something she wanted or expected to hear.

“Oh.” It’s all she knows how to say initially. Finally, more words arrive. A necessary question asked. “Where are you going?”

He hesitates. “Italy.”

Her eyes widen. That definitely isn’t what she expected him to say. Domestic travel was the guess, international never even being something that crossed her mind. “Italy?”

He nods, explaining on the edge of a heavy sigh. “I have some…..business to take care of with the Cosa Nostra.”

Solana is quiet, sitting on his words, partially hoping he’ll say more. Granted, it’s not a necessity as she’s able to piece the puzzle together herself. “That’s why your cousins were here that night…..isn’t it?” His silence is all the answer she needs. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No.” Though his answer is immediate, there’s something about it that was too instantaneous. Like he blurted it out without even thinking about it. “Just…..something I need to handle.”

It’s a bit manipulative. She knows this, but it’s hard for her to have something like this sprung on her and not ask any follow up questions. “Can….can I come with you?”

Again, his response is something she already guessed before even fixing her mouth to ask. Another heavy sigh as he gently cups her cheek. “Not this time.”

“Because it’s dangerous.” And there’s the manipulation component. Solana has realized that will always be the dealbreaker for Roman when it comes to her. Safety. So, him saying no makes her concerned not for her wellbeing.

But for his.

Anxiety growing, she asks, “are the twins going with you? You can’t go alone.”

“I won’t be alone.” That helps her feel a little better. Just a little. “But, they’re not coming. I need them here. Handling shit.” It’s hard for Solana to wonder if any part of what went down between Roman and Jey has impacted this decision for them to remain here while he travels abroad.

Still, that’s another thought for another day. She has a much bigger issue at hand.

“So who—”

“Solana.” Roman’s voice silences the next set of anxiety riddled questions scheduled to leave her mouth. He lowers his volume, his tone softer than anything anyone outside of her would ever hear. “I’ll be fine.”

For some reason, that only cranks her anxiety up from a 6 to a solid 8. And it’s without much thought, she finds herself asking, “do you have to go?”

He truly looks apologetic. A visible thing that also matches the verbal. “I’ve been pushing it off. I can’t push it off anymore.”

She swallows, emotion thick and bubbling. “Because of me?”

“Because of a lot of things, Sol.” And to her surprise, there’s some semblance of emotion present in his voice as well. “The—the story with that side of my family is…..complicated.” As it seems are most things when it comes to his family. Either side, apparently. “Trust me, going there is the last thing I want, but it needs to be done.”

Solana hates this. For a lot of reasons. The biggest one, however, is because she just knows there’s something he’s not telling her. A key part he’s omitting, probably for fear of worrying her. Never mind the fact that she’s already an anxious mess thinking about him being so far away without at least the twins there to have his back. She’d bet this Dwayne and Matteo person will be present, but she doesn’t know them. Doesn’t trust them. Doesn’t trust them to have her husband’s back.

Not like Jimmy and Jey.

Even with the altercation between Roman and the latter, she still believes in her heart of hearts they’d look out for each other.

Like brothers.

“How long will you be gone?” Because trying to convince him to stay or even allow her to accompany him is the equivalent of beating a dead horse.

More hesitation. “A week. Maybe two.”

The duration truly could be worse, and it makes sense such a long trip wouldn’t warrant a short turnover, but that doesn’t make the idea of him being gone for that period of time any easier to stomach.

When she says nothing, he brings his other hand to her hair, pushing a section behind her ear. “Nia will stay with you until I return.”

And the surprises just keep coming. “Nia?” She knows the list of people Roman would ask to do such a thing is pretty limited, nonexistent maybe, but Nia is the last of the last she’d have considered. “She—why would she agree to that?”

Nia’s behavior around and toward Solana has shifted moderately since their first meeting so many months ago. She’s still not the nicest, per se, but Solana has learned a large part of that is nothing personal. It’s just Nia. So, while she’s not against it, she does, however, not understand it.

“I told you before, people do what I want them to do because no one wants to deal with the alternative. Nia is no different.” Forced. He’s forced her to do this. That’s all Solana took from that, the frown on her face deepening it. “She’ll really just be here to administer your meds and make sure you get to therapy.”

And she figured as such, figured that would be the basis as to why he would ensure another person is present in his absence. Still, Solana can’t stop herself from trying to broach an option she’s almost certain he won’t want to hear.

“Ro, I don’t—I can take care of that mys—”

“No.” It’s so firm and final. Even his gaze has shifted into something almost hardened. “That’s not an option.”

She figured it wasn’t. She also wonders, however, if it ever will. It has to, at some point. Solana wants to also ask why it can’t be Bayley again, or even Naomi, but it’s most likely to earn her the same type of shutdown.

If not worse.

Roman steps back, guiding her off the bathroom counter. Standing back on her own two feet, Solana is taken back for a second by the almost instant lightheaded feeling that comes over her. Or less lightheaded and more…..exhaustion.

“You alright?”

She looks up, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I’m—I’m good.” That’s debatable, because Solana is all of a sudden feeling exhausted from literally doing nothing but making out with her husband.

Roman, as expected, looks unconvinced. “You sure?” He goes into his spiel that she’s heard at least three times now. “You know you don’t have to jump right back into things. I still think you should take more time off—”

“No.” Her hand shifts to her stomach, Solana grateful this doesn’t seem to trigger something for him. “I—I want to fall back into my routines.” Even more, and most important, if she truly is pregnant, Solana doesn’t want to waste any time left she has to do so before being too far along to train.

But, he can’t have that explanation. Not yet.

And now she has to figure out just when said explanation can occur, because how does she tell her husband they’re expecting days before he’s set to go out of town for possibly two weeks?

Damn.

————

“You’re late.” It’s the first thing to come out of a smirking Bayley’s mouth as Solana walks in with Roman into the training area. ‘But, the outfit is cute.”

Solana smiles at that, a bit of a laugh leaving her considering Roman nearly had a heart attack at her outfit when she stepped out the bathroom. Hence why they’re late. Among…..other reasons.

“I’m sorry. We got caught up with something.”

“Mmmhmm,” Naomi sounds with that knowing look. “I’m sure you did.”

Solana looks away, wanting and needing to hide her blush as Roman asks in an annoyed voice, “where is he?”

“Here.” The four of them redirect their attention to the sound of Jimmy and the other two men he’s with: Jey and Carmelo.

Naturally, Solana goes to observe the indirect interaction between Jey and Roman, searching for any sigh of contempt. It’s definitely there. She can see it in the way Roman’s shoulders tense and how Jey looks away, Solana noticing the faded bruises on his face as well as the bandage over a still healing cut.

Swallowing, Solana moves over to them. “Hey.”

Jimmy pulls her into a side hug without needing initiation, but it’s not missed upon her how Jey seems to hesitate to hug her, the tension in his body as well as the way he almost awkward way he clears his throat and looks away.

She tries not to make too much of it, but it’s hard not to.

Carmelo steps forward, giving a nod. “Ma’am.”

That makes her smile return. “I told you before, you can just call me Solana.”

“Ma’am is fine,” Roman’s deep voice cuts through, Solana not needing to turn around, hearing his heavy footsteps behind her. “You’re late.”

Carmelo swallows. “I’m sorry—”

“I don’t care,” Roman is instantly dismissive, focusing his attention on his wife as he goes into an unnecessary introduction. “Solana, this is—”

“I know,” she cuts him off with a gentle smile, explaining, “I met him at the party.”

At that, Romans’ thick eyebrows cave inward. “What?”

“He was there, Big Dog.”

‘“I–I was there, sir.”

Roman scowls, completely ignoring his cousin and the other irrelevant man. “He was?” He looks over at his wife, asking, “you invited him too?”

Solana nods. “I asked the twins to invite whoever it was you found to help me train, because I wanted to meet him beforehand,” she explains, turning to Carmelo again, “thank you again for—agreeing to help me.”

Carmelo opens his mouth, unsure just how to express that he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. Or one at all.

“He was there the whole time,” Naomi shares from where she stretches on one of the mats, Jimmy focused on her ass as she bends over.

“You were too busy trying not to kill and cuss everybody out,” Bayley walks over, earning a hardened look from Roman that she pays no mind to. “Alright, so Solana is obviously a small human being, but she’s fast and hell and can maneuver quickly. That makes her hard to catch. Those are her strengths. She’s also pretty damn good with a knife.” Solana is a bit unsure how to feel about that part. “But, she’s only ever trained with women, hence why you’re here, Melo.”

“She also wants to learn how to do the spear.”

Roman’s statement earns a round of surprised expressions from everyone except Carmelo.

He looks terrified. “The—the spear?” He gestures with a crooked, slightly trembling index finger. “From—from you?”

“Who the fuck else?” Is Roman’s objectively rude reply, Solana having to stop herself from placing her hand on his forearm. He could try to be a little nicer.

“You supposed to get a spear from him?” A new voice sounds, Solana not recognizing the man with a deep complexion, multiple piercings and an….interesting hairstyle. He shakes his head. “You gon die!”

Solana’s mouth drops as Bayley and Naomi laugh aloud. Jimmy is the one to ask, “R Truth, where did you even come from?”

He scowls, pointing downward. “Boss man said meet him here.”

“I said at the office, Truth. Not the Warehouse.” Jey finally speaks, Solana realizing it’s the first time he’s done so. He sounds annoyed, and she’s not sure if it’s just because of the scene unfolding before them. Or something that he’s clearly still not over.

“Yo? Forreal?” Jey runs his hand over his face. “That’s—that’s my bad.” He looks to Roman, nodding. “Tribal Chief.” He looks at Solana, again nodding, “Mrs. Tribal Chief.” He then gestures to the rest of the group. “Ya’ll be safe now.” Pointing to Carmelo, he adds, “‘cept’ for you, you already dead.”

Solana has so many questions, even as this strange man walks away, Jey muttering something incoherent before he seems to follow after this R-Truth person.

Once those two men are gone, Carmelo nervously clears his throat. “Tribal Chief, if I can, who better to train her than y—”

“Shut up,” Roman says it so lazily. It’s as he crosses his massive arms over each other that Solana has to briefly look away, finding herself growing….distracted. He’s so damn muscular. “She’s comfortable with me. That won’t help her learn.”

Roman easily transitions into providing basic information about the spear, best ways to time it, stances, ways to land it and whatnot. She’s following, as best she can, at least. Because this exhaustion she’s experiencing is making it ten times harder to be present in the moment, and that’s made evident by the gap in her focus when one moment Roman is explaining, and the next he’s rushing towards Carmelo.

Solana gasps as Roman spears the other man with a ferocity and intensity that seems almost animal-like.

Eyes wide, hands over her mouth, Solana has to wince at a pain she didn’t even experience. But, one didn’t have to be on the receiving end of that to know it had to hurt like hell.

Roman stands up so unbothered and nonchalant, readjusting his almost always perfect bun.

“Gotta give him his props. No one does a spear quite like Roman,” Bayley chuckles, arms crossed as Solana continues to stare in shock.

Jimmy casually walks by and peers over an unmoved Carmelo. “Ayo, Uce, I think he dead.” The faintest sound of pained whining fills the air, prompting Jimmy to correct himself. “Never mind. He alive.”

“Barely,” Naomi mumbles.

“He shouldn’t be so weak,” is Roman’s pompous defense as he redirects his attention to a still startled Solana. “Make sense?”

There’s a brief delay in between the time she nods slowly and speaks. “But, I—I don’t think I can do that.”

A small smile falls on Roman’s face as he explains, “it’s not going to be the exact same, Solana. I’m significantly bigger than you. Plus, spearing a man is different than spearing a woman.”

“What if I need to spear a man?”

His expression hardens as he affirms, “he’d have to get through me first to fucking touch you.”

Solana doesn’t say anything after that. Just waits for Carmelo to recover as they transition to the one-on-one portion. Solana is rolling her shoulders, trying to get in as much stretching as she can to hopefully loosen up her body more and shed away the almost fatigue she’s feeling.

It’s unfamiliar and inconvenient as hell considering what she’s about to do.

She’s in earshot range too when Roman grabs Melo’s arm and warns in the chilliest tone, “leave one fucking mark on her, and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”

A heavy sigh leaves her body. She understands Roman’s protectiveness, but truthfully, Carmelo is doing them a favor. He doesn’t have to be here.

Then again….maybe he does.

She doesn’t put it beyond her husband to threaten people on her behalf.

Not in the slightest.

And on one hand, she’s partially grateful for the obvious care and mindfulness Carmelo is utilizing as he trains with her, it’s definitely helpful from her trauma standpoint. Helps for them to not be as physical as she typically is with Bayley and Naomi.

However, it's painfully obvious that Carmelo is doing his damn hardest to minimize any and all physical contact between the two of them. A part of her appreciates it, but a larger part of her finds it a bit annoying. It’s sparring. Not interpretive dancing.

Solana manages to swipe Carmelo off his feet, growing a bit frustrated when he intentionally takes longer to get up. “This doesn't help me,” she sighs, hands on her hips as she takes a second to steal a much needed breath. “Roman, can you please tell him—”

She’s cut off by being swiped by her ankles, tumbling forward to the floor. Carmelo is suddenly over her, flipping her onto her back, Solana not hesitating to move her knee between his stupidly open legs. He groans from the impact, and she takes that opportunity to bar her forearm across his neck, switching them so that he’s on his back with her hovering over him.

However, anything more is cut short by that small interaction alone knocking the wind out of her.

Climbing off him, she moves onto her hands and knees, eyes shut and head dropped. Neither from feeling triggered or even being in pain, just exhaustion.

She’s so damn drained.

In what feels like seconds, Roman is at her side, hand on her back. “Solana, what’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, answering quickly, “I’m just—tired.” More than what’s normal for her. Training is usually draining, but considering they haven’t even been at it that long, she’s confused as to why she’s getting so winded. Lifting her head, she offers a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“No.” Roman dismisses it with the quickness, directing to the others. “We’re done for the day.”

“Roman, I’m fine. I’m just—probably out of shape.” Maybe, but this feels beyond that. She’s just so fatigued. He helps her to her feet, Solana trying to bargain, “at least let me finish with Bayley?”

He’s not hearing it. “No. You clearly need to ease back into things.” She frowns. I thought I was. “Head to the showers.”

“Roman—”

“He’s right, Solana,” Naomi suddenly sounds, walking over with Bayley. “You’re clearly tired and just need to ease back into and relearn some things. That’s okay. We can do this another day. When you’re at 100.”

“Or maybe she can just continue to train with ya’ll—”

And in perfect synchronized dismissiveness, Roman, Bayley, and Naomi all shut Carmelo down with a simple, “shut up.”

It cracks a smile on Solana’s face. The fact that the majority of them are in agreement is enough to make her realize that they’re probably right in that she should try another day. Maybe even easing back into it. Not necessarily the part about relearning. She remembers everything. Recall is not the problem. This fatigue is, but a part of her is starting to think she knows what it might be.

Just why she’s so fatigued.

And in true Jimmy fashion, he blurts out with the ill timed question, “aye, Soso, what’s for dinner today?”

————

“So why exactly are you fighting again?”

It’s not the first time she’s asked this question. No, it’s been posed at least three different times prior to this occurrence. Just different wording. A different question that’s garnered the same kind of answer every single time.

A part of her recognizes this, but a part of her also doesn’t care.

Solana has always been under the impression, and has essentially been told by several people, Roman included, that he doesn’t really fight in the ring anymore. That he doesn’t need to. That he doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and those words came from him directly.

So, she was and still is, confused when he told her of a match he was competing in. The theme of the fight night being Bad Blood not helping much. At all.

Still, there was no way in hell she would miss attending. Even if her presence wasn’t something that’s technically mandatory. She wants to support him. She’s just nervous about the notion of him being in the ring again, recalling the last time she witnessed such a thing. It was brutal and bloody, and while he came out with the win, relatively unscathed, it still makes her nervous. Because there’s always a chance something can go wrong.

Because she always worries about him, and she’s pretty sure she always will. So long as he is who he is.

Roman, however, couldn’t give two shits about this fight with Drew. Tonight is more of a political move than anything, Roman needing a very public and brutal display of his prowess to remind everyone why he sits at the Head of the Table. It’s truly just an added bonus that he gets to kick the shit out of Drew in the process.

Or worse.

Roman is more focused, borderline distracted, by Solana. The sexy red dress she has on leaves little to the imagination with the low neckline, tight fit, and short length that stops about mid-thigh, rolling even higher as she’s propped on the bathroom counter. Her hair is pinned up, and her makeup is on the lighter, almost undetectable, side. His preference. She’s stunning with and without it, but there’s something he enjoys most seeing her in her natural state.

She just looks good as hell, and if not for the importance of this evening, he’d say fuck this damn match and Drew and spend the rest of the evening with her. A much more desirable and preferable option, truly. But, duty and obligation before anything.

Even his fine ass wife.

Roman waits until he’s slid the black hoodie over his head, smirking a bit at the slight disappointment that appears on Solana’s face at him no longer being shirtless. He decides to slide through that crevice of brief deflection.

“You know the same way you look at me is the same way I look at and think about you.” He’s walking toward her, big hands carefully spreading her thighs so he can step in between her legs. This close, he’s granted a perfect view of her equally perfect breast. “All the damn time.”

He’s unsurprised when her cheeks redden nor when she says anything. “A challenge was issued, and I need to send a message.” That’s a much simpler way of explaining the full scope of just what tonight is, but he also doesn’t want to bombard her with information she doesn’t necessarily need to know.

She licks her lips, and he hates how sexual such an innocent act looks, especially when he knows that’s not her intent. “What—what kind of message?”

A potentially brutal, bloody message, but painting that picture for her beforehand might create some unnecessary anxiety. “A message that won’t need to be repeated.”

That seems to register for her as she asks, “Are—are you nervous?”

That actually makes Roman laugh. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt that emotion. It’s been years. Many decades. Moving his hands to her waist, he tugs her closer to him. “I don’t get nervous, Solana.”

“Ever?”

“Naw.”

She’s still looking at him with that same level of trepidation, maybe even a bit more heightened actually. “But….but you’re still careful, right?” It seems like an otherwise silly question with an obvious answer, but Roman can see where she’s coming from. The fear that fuels it. “Like….like you pay attention and stuff?”

“Of course,” his answer is gentle and patient. Two things reserved strictly and solely for her. “Solana, I’ve been fighting my whole life. I know what I’m doing.”

Her eyes widen, and he just knows he’s in for an unnecessary apology. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean—”

“Baby.” Yup. Just as he predicted. Bringing his hand to the back of her neck, Roman extends that tenderness, explaining, “I know what you meant. You’re worried, and you shouldn’t be. I’ve got this. Alright?”

She nods a little, and he’s relieved to see some of her apprehension has melted away. With the hand still on her hip, he gives her a light squeeze. “Come on.” Roman stays close as she carefully slides off the counter, her heels giving her a bit of a height boost, but not enough to make a substantial difference. He still towers over her.

And it’s in looking down at her from this angle, and the quick glance of her ass in this dress through the bathroom mirror, he makes a face. “Then again….” Roman slides his hand from the back of her neck, down until he’s palming and squeezing her ass. “Maybe this will be a bit of a distraction.”

“Roman!” She yelps, and he groans at the feel of her. She’s so damn fine and thick in all the right areas that it doesn’t even make sense.

He moves to take her hand, kissing it before guiding her out of the bathroom. “Come on. Before your fine ass makes us late.”

She giggles, holding onto his arm while he hits the light switch. “I didn’t even do anything.”

Roman says nothing, because if only she fucking knew.

If only.

————

Solana was half expecting to be separated from Roman once they reached the warehouse, him needing time to prepare for the fight and whatnot. And while the latter part was true, the first wasn’t. She’s thoroughly surprised when he instead guides her to the back with him to his sizable, impressive locker room.

Roman directs Solana to make herself comfortable, which is almost impossible to do.

It’s hard because she can’t stop thinking about the fact that her husband is going to be in the ring with that man who looked like he would have killed Roman right there on the spot, if he could. The same expression she’s certain he’ll have tonight when it’s just the two of them.

A part of her is starting to wish she would have sat this one out. Stayed home tonight. Her hand falls to her stomach. That irksome, borderline nauseous feeling has been with her all day. On and off the past week, really. Since trying to return to training earlier in the week. She’s certain a chunk of it has been nerves, but the rest of it, maybe most of it, she’s almost certain, is early onset pregnancy symptoms.

Just thinking about the fact that a baby, her baby, their baby is growing inside of her belly warms her entire soul. Temporarily distracts her from worrying about Roman. To wondering. Wondering which of his features their child will inherit. Will he or she have his dark, raven, wavy hair? His smoldering brown, almost hazel like eyes? Will the baby take after her brunette locks? Her nose?

In all honesty, she only wants a healthy child. That’s the most important thing, but it’s also hard for her to not lean more on the side of wanting the baby to be a boy. She knows how important producing an heir is. For the Bloodline. For Roman. Especially with how he’s gone above and beyond to keep pressure off them, off her regarding their lack of an heir.

It’s the least she can do for him. He deserves it.

And she’d love more than anything to give it to him.

Roman stepping back into the vicinity briefly pulls her from her thoughts.

“You alright?”

Naturally, her hand falls from her stomach as she manages a small smile and nod. “Yeah.” She takes in his appearance, noticing his hair is wet and drenched, water droplets rolling down that nearly perfect body she’s grown to love pressed against hers. Not even just for sex. Just in general. Roman’s touch is calming to her.

Climbing down off the table where she sits, she moves over to him. “Are you?”

He chuckles, hand to her hip. “Always.”

She has to believe that.

Solana goes to kiss him when the Wise Man walks back in, forcing her to settle for a hand to his cheek. “Be careful.”

He clearly hears the presence of someone else and only nods, his eyes conveying the unspoken ‘I love you.’ She just offers him a warm smile before she retracts her hand and moves to leave the room, only providing her husband’s chief advisor a quiet ‘hello.’

Security escorts her up to the same VIP seating area as the last couple of times she’s attended events like this at the Warehouse. And as usual, Bayley and Naomi are already sitting and waiting for her.

“Had to give your man that good luck quickie right before, huh?”

Bayley’s comment makes Solana blush and aware of the hickey on her neck she didn't even bother trying to hide. Or the one near her breast.

“She didn’t deny it either,” Naomi snickers, playfully shoving Solana.

Instead of acknowledging their innuendos, she utilizes an actual productive use of time. “I was thinking.”

“Listening,” Bayley responds, the two ladies keenly focused on the new topic.

“Roman has to go out of town next week for……business.” She tries to not think too much about that. It’ll only spike her worry.

“Who’s going to stay with you?” Naomi asks, gesturing to the two of them. “He didn’t ask us.”

Solana swallows. That's definitely something she wants to work on with him. The fact that he still blames them for what happened. “Nia.”

“Nia?”

To be fair, Solana had a bit of the same reaction when Roman first told her his cousin would be staying with her. She’s certain it was…..an interesting discussion, to say the least.

Solana shrugs. “She’s not that bad.” And it’s true. Solana has received much worse from people, in terms of treatment. “And it’s really just….to give me my medicine and stuff.” Because Roman seemed vehemently against and shut it down so fast when she even approached the idea of being able to handle it on her own. Not that….not that she can blame him, per se. “But, I was thinking. What if we went to Isla Mujeres for the weekend? Like that girls trip we were talking about.”

“You talk to Roman about it?”

Solana shakes her head, explaining. “Nia would be with us, so I’m sure he’d be fine.” Because she is. Now, if Nia doesn’t come along, then that’s another story. Though something tells her that once she tells Roman she wants to do this, he’ll find a way to make Nia go along with the plan.

“I think it could be fun,” Naomi shares, rubbing her hands together. “From the pictures you showed us, the beach looks beautiful.”

“It is,” Solana smiles. “I want to invite Cam, Mickie, and Melina too.”

“So do it,” Bayley encourages. “It’s your girls trip. You decide on the guest list. Melina has always been cool. I didn’t know she…..struggled the way she does, but I’ve always liked her.” Solana is appreciative of Bayley’s handling of Melina’s mental health struggles. “And Cam and Mickie seem cool too.”

“They are,” Solana agrees. They really helped her time spent in the hospital and the treatment facility go a lot easier than it could have been.

As per usual, conversation flows naturally between the ladies only to minimize once the night begins, all three paying attention to the various matches, mostly the ones that pertain to the Bloodline.

So, really, Jimmy and Jey’s tag team match against two men that Solana doesn’t recognize, which, of course, the twins come out with the win for. And Roman’s match, the last of the night, because no one comes after the Tribal Chief.

The complete shift in energy when Roman enters the space is truly something to behold. His power and dominance is felt in every square inch of the building. Undeniable excellence and power penetrating almost. She can’t take her eyes off him, his face stoic, determined, focused.

She can see why he doesn’t get nervous. He seems so in his element in this space. Even as Drew comes out with that same level of determination, an almost hatred splayed across his face as he looks over at Roman with ardent vitriol.

Her husband, however, is unbothered.

As he is with most things in life.

Still, the fact that Drew is about what and what with Roman in regards to build and size has her anxiety festering. She knows and has seen for herself how flawless Roman is in the ring. That doesn’t mean she can’t worry though. Can’t wait for this to all just be over with so they can go home.

So she can start figuring out just how she wants to tell him about the pregnancy.

But, that’s a then thing, and this is very much here and now.

The sound of the bell fills the Warehouse as the boisterous crowd continues to erupt, excited to see their Tribal Chief in action.

If only she could relate.

For the most part, the match starts off as expected, Roman being in the lead, staying one or several steps ahead of Drew, expertly dodging or countering hits. Solana is practically on the edge of her seat, chewing on her bottom lip, watching every single piece of the fight. From Roman’s steps to Drew’s lunges to the way both men who seem too large for life go at it like two titans.

Of course, despite looking like one, Roman is no God. He’s still a man, a man who takes several hits from Drew, one making Solana wince. However, she learned from the night of WarGames, Roman hates being hit. It only pisses him off more than he naturally is at any given point.

And that’s proven in the increased brutality of Roman’s hits, Drew being the first to have blood spilled as Roman smashes his head in the steel staircase.

It’s a quick shift though that she somehow misses, because Drew suddenly has Roman in a painful looking headlock. One he seems to take too long to get out of, for her comfort.

Solana moves to the absolute edge of her seat, panic starting to set in the longer Roman’s airway is restricted. And then she sees the way Drew’s mouth moves, the snarl and subsequent smirk as he says something to Roman. Roman’s briefly stunned eyes flickering to hers, but it’s so short, too short to process. Because just as quickly as he was looking at her, he’s managed his way out of the headlock, sending the other man to the ground. Roman wastes no time jumping on top of him, gaining and taking full advantage of the upper hand, raining blow on top of blow on Drew with a pace and aggression that seems almost inhuman.

The light blue of the mat is suddenly splashed and splayed with blood. Drew’s. Roman’s chest and fist also stained, Solana wincing a bit as even from a distance she sees the way Drew's face has become almost disfigured by blood, bruising, and swelling.

He’s clearly lost consciousness, but that doesn’t stop Roman.

No, instead a deep frown falls on her face as she watches Roman move outside of the ring and lift up the metal staircase that he brings back into the ring with him. She turns her head right before the impact between the steps and the unconscious man.

Unalive man, because there’s no way Drew is still breathing. Not with the severity of the beating.

Bayley and Naomi are clearly also taken back by witnessing a live murder but clearly do their best not to make it a thing for her sake. She’s appreciative, but it still doesn’t delete her confusion towards Roman’s behavior.

Overkill. Barbaric. Sadistic, almost.

And with all of that, the confliction she’s experiencing, Solana can only think of one thing, what the hell happened in that ring to bring about that kind of rage in her husband?

————

Roman doesn’t say much to her.

It’s not surprising. She’s not quite sure what there is to say. Him viciously beating a man to death isn’t, at the core of it, something that needs explaining.

That doesn’t stop her from trying to almost dance around the subject. Asks him if he’s feeling alright, if he wants her to fix him anything, and things of the sort. It doesn’t do much. His responses are minimal, a few words to each statement, at best.

It bothers her to know something is bothering him, that he won’t talk to her, but also, Solana can admit she’s not sure how to talk with him about this.

She’d certainly do her best though, if he was actually willing to open up to her.

She doesn’t force it though, just welcomes his arms around her as they lay in bed, eventually falling asleep together.

However, Dulce does what Dulce does best and wakes up in the middle of the night, politely reminding her parents of her small bladder. Regardless of her sleep intrusion, Solana is grateful to be able to escort their puppy out of the room without disturbing her husband’s much needed and deserved sleep.

But, it’s as Dulce seems to take her sweet time finding the perfect spot to relieve herself that Solana frowns. Lifting her hand to her breast, she’s taken back by the tenderness of the touch. New and out of the norm.

Another……symptom?

Even with the night’s unexpected events, as much as she’s trying to not allow herself to get too excited at the possibility of being pregnant, it’s hard not to. Especially with the strange onset of symptoms she’s been experiencing all week. Some seen before or during her cycle, but some new and unfamiliar. And a quick google search confirmed they in fact could be early pregnancy symptoms.

But still, Solana has gained enough self-introspection to know that a negative test would be…..difficult for her to process. Something she doesn’t really even want to think about, hence why she’s not allowing herself to fully acknowledge that she’s probably pregnant.

Because the alternative would be…..not the desired outcome.

It’s as she observes the backyard, seeing the reflection of the lights above the pool that a random thought crosses her mind. A question, rather. Would they have to cover up the pool when the baby starts crawling? What other changes around the house would have to be implemented for safety reasons? Most definitely, they’d have to stock up on those baby proof outlet covers. And maybe even block off the staircase.

Something tells her any child of her husband would be mobile. On the run. A small smile settles on her face, her hand falling to her belly as she once again mentally puts together what their child will look like. Him. Her. Both of them.

Both would be her preference. Roman would be a close second.

Dulce’s short legs carry her back into the house, her wagging tale eliciting a smile and small laugh. “Good job—”

“Where the hell were you?”

Solana jumps and gasps. Outside of his sudden presence in the living room startling her, Roman's tone and volume indicate a level of irritation that doesn’t quite compute. Doesn’t make sense. Where else would she have been?

Confused, she answers, “Dulce had to use the bathroom...”

This didn’t seem to be the answer he neither wanted nor needed. His expression is sharp. “So you went out there alone?”

This brings a frown to her face, a contrast to her almost jovial disposition not even minutes prior. Solana points out in a calm voice, “Roman, I–I always go alone.”

“Not anymore.” She can’t protest, because he adds. “Wake me up, and if I’m not here, let her use the damn crate.”

“But—”

“You heard what I said!”

His voice bounces off the walls and echoes through the hall, but it’s Solana’s jump away from him that seems to trigger something for Roman. His expression immediately softens. “Shit, I’m sorry, I–I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

She says nothing for a good minute before quickly deciding that beating around the bush isn’t the way to go in this situation.

She needs to be direct.

“Ro….what happened tonight?”

She’d briefly played around with the idea of bringing it up to him or letting it lie. Obviously, the latter is not the best route to go. “You….you were off. You lost control, and that’s….that’s not like you.”

In the ring is when she’s noticed he’s most controlled, never allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment and actions because he recognizes the detriment it would cause. Yes, he’s violent and brutal, but it’s still controlled. Not tonight. …tonight she saw that impulsive, emotion driven man she’d heard whispers about over the years. Tonight, she saw him take a man’s life, and not in a controlled methodical way, but in a moment of pure rage and spontaneity.

She’d never tell him this, never allow it to leave her mouth, but for a split second, it scared her. Solana wasn’t naive enough to truly think that his kindness or love toward her made him any less of a cold-blooded killer. And she knows, without a shadow of a doubt that he would never hurt her or direct his anger towards her.

But.

But, the look in his eyes tonight…it was as if he had no soul.

And that….that is what scared her.

His gaze darts to the corner of the room, an intentional act to avoid her own, she’s sure. “He pissed me off.”

“Ro….people piss you off all the time, and you don’t beat them to death like you did him.” It’s such a strange experience, speaking with him so casually. Solana can still recall the tightness in her chest every time she was in the vicinity of this man, the fear she struggled to manage when even looking at him, often keeping her gaze downward. And now, she’s pushing him on what is obviously a lie. Or a deep state of denial. “He—he said something to you.” That’s when he finally sets his eyes on her. “I–I saw it.”

“Does it matter now?”

“Yes—yes, it does, because you just snapped at me for taking our dog out to use the bathroom, something I’ve done for months now.” It’s not until saying that aloud that a thought crosses her mind. “Was—was it about me? Did—did he say something about me?” And when he says nothing, doesn’t deny it or push back or even snap at her again that she realizes that’s exactly what it was.

And it confuses the mess out of her.

What could have been said to cause him to react so violently? Even more, how could it have been any different from the shit talking they all do in the ring?

“I don’t—I don’t understand.” Her eyes follow him as he moves toward the living room, sitting on the edge of the sofa. Tentatively and without much thought, her legs carry her toward him, but she stops just shy of being at arms length. Noticing this, Roman motions her closer with his index finger. And as soon as she’s close enough, he tugs her onto his lap. Seeing the conflict in his eyes, she moves her hand to his bicep. “Baby, please talk to me…..”

Like many, if not any, interaction with her comforting urge, Roman finds it difficult to deny her. He struggles to push back those words that have secretly haunted him even hours after he put a permanent end to McIntyre.

“You really think you can keep her safe?” His cruel taunt, wicked smile revealing the blood building in his mouth, coating his teeth. “She’ll die just like rest of your fucking fam—”

“Ro…”

And it's her soft voice that pulls him from the memory as he shares with her what was said. “He said I couldn’t keep you safe, that you’d die like the rest of my family.” She gasps. Whatever was said had to have been bad and most likely somehow about her. She just didn’t know it would be that.

Shaking her head, she pushes his hair back. “He was just…he was just trying to get in your head.” And I think it worked. Solana would never verbalize as such to Roman, but it’s a thought she can’t dismiss. She’s never seen him this bothered. “Nothing—nothing’s going to happen to me, Ro.”

“I told you before that I don’t—I don’t feel things like you. That I don’t—feel anything.” She remembers it vividly. That conversation between them that was during the early days of their love story. Something that feels so long ago now. “I was wrong. I’ve—I’ve always felt anger, but now I’m feeling other things too, and I don’t know how—” He stops himself, clearly changing directions. “I’m sorry I did that in front of you—”

“It’s fine, Ro. I—” Because despite that brief second of ear, her first and foremost concern is him. It’s always him. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

He’s quiet for a moment, sharing in an almost unsure voice. “I count your pills every day before I go to bed.” She’s still, unmoving, unsure how to process such a thing. Because she knows why, exactly why he does that. And it nearly breaks her heart in fucking half. “Losing you is the only thing in this fucking world that scares me.” Voice shifting into something desperate and almost vulnerable, he says with all the conviction. “Because, I can’t lose you, Sol.” His gaze is on her, burning with determination. And need. “I won’t.”

“And you won’t.” Her hands move to his face, beard bristling against the skin on her palms. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” She places an almost tentative, chaste kiss to his temple, noticing how his eyes close after. As if he’s more at peace. “Roman, I am with you until my dying breath, and that won’t be happening anytime soon. Not for you. Not for me.”

And not for their child growing inside of her.

“Why don’t—why don’t we go see Fetu this weekend?” It’s technically early Saturday morning already, and Solana returns to work Monday, but even just a day or two spent with his aunt could probably make a difference for her husband who she sees needs to get away. “Or even if you just go—I can stay—”

“No.” His voice is still low, but it’s not as weighed down. She’s grateful for at least that. “She’d be pissed if I showed up without you.” The hint of humor in his voice makes her heart swell.

“We’ll go.” It’s not necessarily a suggestion anymore. It’s a plan. “You’ll clear your head, and everything will be better, okay?” He looks at her, nodding quietly. Solana makes a mental note to make sure to pack one or two pregnancy tests, because what better way to break the news to him than being able to tell Fetu right after? Together.

It seems like a perfect plan to her.

Noticing Dulce has already left and went back upstairs, Solana suggests the same to her husband. “Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

It’s then that Solana realizes his hand on her hip is moving in slow, soothing circles. She can’t tell if it’s for his comfort or hers. Placing her hand over his, she gives a gentle tug, moving off his lap but never allowing her hand to leave his.

His movements are slow initially, but he stands up and allows her to guide them up the stairs and back into their bedroom. Solana easily resumes their earlier sleeping position, grateful and thankful when he kisses her temple and murmurs, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The exact moment when she falls asleep, or even when he does, is unknown. But what is known is when she’s woken up to the sound of grunts and muttered protests.

“I’ve gotta….save…them.”

Solana blinks and rubs at her eyes. “Ro?”

Sitting up, she sees him twisting and turning, an almost distressed look on his handsome face. Her heart drops. A nightmare. He’s having a nightmare.

Naturally, Solana moves her hand to his shoulder, shaking him a bit. “Roman, wake up.” She might as well have done nothing, because he’s continuing to stir, mumbling in Samoan. Voice so low that even if she did speak the language, she wouldn’t hear him.

Without thinking twice about it, Solana climbs on top of him, straddling him as she continues her efforts to awaken him. “Roman, baby, please wake up.” It’s both familiar and unfamiliar. She knows this struggle very well. Has lived through it almost her entire life, but she’s never been on this end. Been on the side of watching someone go through it.

Least of all, Roman.

And she hates it. Hates it with everything in her because she knows how heavy and devastating it is to be sucked into reliving trauma. That’s why she ups the ante, raising her voice and essentially hitting him on his shoulders.

“Roman! Wake u—”

“No!”

It all happens so fast. Almost too fast for Solana to truly process what’s occurring in the moment. It’s only afterwards that she can recount it, can recall what just happened, can process that at the same time she went to try to save him from himself, Roman shot awake with an instinctive swing, a natural, almost protective thing that results in Solana shoved to the edge of the bed, mouth open, holding onto her face.

It’s an instant stinging sensation, a dull, throbbing pain that she hasn’t felt in some time and never anticipated feeling as a result of her own husband.

A husband who is now awake and also aware of what just happened. His widened eyes and open mouth are on her as Solana winces a bit and flexes her jaw, trying to gather herself. He’s up. That’s the only thing that matters.

“Oh my God.” She’s not sure she’s ever heard Roman sound so horrified. “Solana—”

Her name is enough to pull her back to him, Solana climbing on his lap, shaking her head as she cups his face. “It’s okay. I’m—I’m okay—”

“I hit you….”

Even him saying it aloud seems and feels wrong to Solana. “No, baby—you were having a nightmare. It wasn’t like that—”

“I hit you, Solana.” He’s not even looking at her, looking down, perplexed, disturbed with himself, clearly trying to sit on this unfathomable thing.

“Roman, I’m fine. Really.” Her face is throbbing, and she’s certain she’ll have a bruise come morning, but it’s nothing compared to what she’s received in the past. From the actual hitting she used to be on the receiving end of. From her dad and brother. “Ro, I did the same thing to you, remember? I—I ripped out your stitches.” It’s something she felt horrified at herself for in the moment. Probably close to what he’s feeling even though she’d rather he not because he’s done nothing wrong. “Baby—”

Shaking his head, Roman lowers her hands from his face. “I’m sorry.” She goes to reassure him that he’s fine, that she’s fine, but Roman is fast, easily moving the blankets off him, forcing her to the side, off him.

“Roman, no—” She scrambles off the bed as he goes for the door of their bedroom, effectively planting herself in front of it. “No, you’re not leaving.”

He closes his eyes, his voice almost desperate. “Solana, please.”

“No!” Raising her voice wasn’t an intentional thing, just a result of her own emotions brewing in this moment. She’s not even thinking about herself, about the pain in her face. She’s just thinking about the man in front of her who looks disgusted with himself. “Roman, I am fine.”

Because she is.

Because even with all of her trauma, having been hurt so deeply and badly by men, Roman unintentionally striking her didn’t fill her with an ounce of fear. Didn’t make her want to put as much distance between them as possible. Didn’t have any effect on how she sees and feels about him.

She could only focus on him and how distressing his nightmare must have been to result in such a response.

“I hurt you….” It’s the way his voice almost wavers with the word ‘hurt’ along with his fraught countenance that has her chest tightening. She’s never seen him look so upset, and the fact that it’s solely directed toward himself is gut-wrenching.

“No,” her voice catches in the back of throat, eyes watering. She reaches up and cups his face. “Baby, listen to me. You could never hurt me.”

Something flashes in his eyes, something akin to anger as he asks in a tight voice, “But, I did." She shakes her head, ready to stand here all night trying to convince him that he’s not in the wrong when he takes it a step further. “How is it any different from your dad and brother?”

It’s an active effort to not back away from him, to not drop her hands and for no reason other than putrid disgust. Disgust that he could even fix his mouth to say such a thing. To put himself into that category.

Solana swallows, specifically choosing each and every word that leaves her mouth. “Roman…I was raped. Violently. For—for hours. I couldn’t—I couldn’t walk afterwards.” She hates talking about this, hates reliving the horrors just from recounting, but she’ll do just about anything to wipe away that gutted, guilty look on her husband’s face. “Wes—Wes was the reason I first started cutting myself, because—” She closes her eyes, having never said these words aloud to anyone. “Because he made me do it. He said it was my—my punishment for getting our mother killed. And eventually….eventually I started to believe him, so I just started doing it to myself, because I thought it was what I deserved.” Another deep, shaky exhale. “My own father tried to kill me.” Roman’s expression slips into something in the vein of surprised. Confused even. Horrified, mostly. “I tried to run away once, and he put me in the hospital for two weeks and told me that if I ever tried to leave again that he’d— he’d make sure to finish the job.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, and truth be told, she’s not sure she wants him to. She just wants him to listen, really listen and allow her words to penetrate his thick layer of undeserved guilt. “You are the first man in my life to never hurt me the way I’ve been hurt, so don’t you ever fucking say again that you hurt me or put yourself in the same category as those bastards. You are nothing like them.” Because she’d rather walk barefoot on burning coal for the rest of her life than for him to ever even think he’s in the same group as them. “So, please, please just—”

Solana feels it rising, traveling up her body at the most impromptu time. “Shit,” she curses, slapping her hand over her mouth as she dashes to the bathroom, hitting the light, barely making it to the toilet that, thankfully, is already open and ready for her to deposit what feels like everything she ate that day into the commode.

It’s such a miserable, uncomfortable experience, more or less dry heaving over the toilet in the middle of the night.

Just added to the list of unfortunate things that have happened. A heavy wave of exhaustion washes over her as she lays her head down on her arm that’s stretched across the toilet seat. She feels like shit, and it has nothing to do with what just happened.

If only she could tell her husband that.

Because Roman is suddenly behind her, hand on the small of her back, asking if she’s alright. Glancing over at him, she shakes her head, mustering up a quiet excuse of it probably being something she ate.

He doesn’t look convinced, and Solana knows it’s because he’s somehow connecting this to what just happened. She’d give anything to be able to wipe that belief from his mind, to tell him it’s just morning sickness, a common pregnancy symptom.

Because with all of the dots connecting, there’s no doubt in Solana’s mind. Any test would just be a formality. She knows her body.

She knows that she’s pregnant.

But, something tells her that telling Roman this will only make things worse. Make him feel even more guiltier than what he’s already experiencing. Would kill him to know he ‘hit’ her while she’s carrying his child.

This isn’t the way she wants to tell him, either. Not like this. No, it needs to be…..special. After all he’s done and probably had to put up with in order to explain them not producing a child after almost eight months of marriage. She can’t announce it like this.

He deserves better.

The wave passes as Solana stands up and flushes the toilet, moving over to the sink to brush her teeth, praying that’s the extent of it. For now, at least. Roman is watching and observing her closely the whole time.

Mouth clean and stripped, somewhat, of that bitter aftertaste, she takes his hand and guides him back to their bedroom. Gratitude fills her when he doesn’t protest the way she practically climbs on top of him, her body resting on his, an intentional position to prevent him from trying to leave out without her noticing.

“Stay with me….” It’s the only thing that leaves her mouth, a soft but firm delivery. It’s the only thing she wants and needs in this moment, for his arms to remain around her, holding her, the same way she’s holding him.

The way she'll always hold onto him.

————

It’s purely a stroke of luck that allows Roman to wake up at the call of his biological clock and find that Solana is no longer atop him but sleeping on her side, back toward him, deeply immersed in much deserved slumber.

But, it's not even a minute later that a heaviness overtakes him as he’s quickly reminded of what happened. Of what he did. What he did to her.

Roman doesn’t hesitate to carefully climb out of bed and move to Solana’s side, hitting the switch on the lamp for a clear presentation. Something he wasn’t ready for. Not in the slightest.

“Jesus Christ….”

Dread fills him all over again with the illumination of the lamp on Solana’s nightstand. Gives him a full, unobstructed view of the left side of her face. A not even fully formed, nasty looking bruise marring her features.

Roman knew that he had to hit her hard, that she had to be downplaying the impact, but the big ass, dark bruise can’t hide the hideous truth. The extent is ugly and evident. It’s a fucking miracle he didn’t fracture or break something. Because he absolutely could have. Not that that makes a huge difference, because regardless of the severity, he hit her.

He fucking hit her.

It feels undeserving, the way he reaches his hand to gently caress her marred face. His stomach clenches as he mutters the three words that could never change, lessen or take back what he’s done.

“I’m so sorry….” Because he is. Because Roman’s list of regrets in life is minimal. Less than the average person, of this, he’s sure. But this, what happened last night is easily at the top of that list. He doesn’t hesitate to turn the switch off, not wanting to have to see the consequences of his horrific actions, even if he should.

Even if he should have to face it. Should have to be faced with the one thing he swore he would never do.

Because that’s exactly what he’s done.

He doesn’t bother waking her up for her medication. Just leaves it in a small, ramekin-like bowl for her to take whenever she wakes up. With the night she had, he hopes she sleeps for a couple more hours.

And he’s grateful for the time he has to himself, to workout, to shower, to think, to act. Even if it’s all a bit of a blur.

Years. It’s been years since he’s experienced that type of rage. Since he’s blacked out like that. Because that’s exactly what happened. Roman remembers Drew’s ominous threat, recalls the beginning of the beating, but most after that is blotchy. Blurred. And the last time he felt that way….was the night he killed Rhodes' family.

Not that he regretted it then or now. Even Drew. No, what he regrets and doesn’t know how to process is that he lost that control in front of his wife. That he lost it with his wife, resulting in her battered face.

Despite the horrors of trauma she’s experienced at the hands of men in her life and the fact that what happened was unintentional, it doesn’t negate what he did. It was wrong, and she didn’t deserve it.

She doesn’t deserve to put up with any of the shit he’s dealing with right now.

What happened with Jey was something he hated having to do in front of her, but this….this is entirely different.

A line was completely crossed.

And it can’t happen again.

Much later that morning, closer to noon than anything is when Roman finds her in the kitchen changed out of her pajamas and into short shorts and a shirt. Normally, he’d be focused on how good she looks and how much he appreciates seeing her confidence grow to where she doesn’t try to hide her body. But, it’s hard with the dark bruising on her face.

She’s clearly in the middle of fixing something but walks over to him, warm smile on her face as she places her hand on his chest. “There you are.” She leans up and kisses him, sharing, “I was wondering when you’d come out. I’m fixing us lunch right quick before we get on the road.”

She turns back towards the counter right as he says her name. “Solana—”

“Do you want anything in particular?”

“Solana.”

“I can make—”

“Solana.” He says it a third and final time, seeing the way she pauses. Deflection. It’s intentional. She can clearly tell something is wrong. With a slow turn to look at him again, it takes everything in him to not look away. The fucking bruise. “I’m leaving tonight.”

Her small smile immediately drops into a deep scowl. “Wh—what?” He briefly redirects his gaze, focusing on the laces of his sneakers instead of the disappointment he knows he’s about to lay on her. “You want—you want to get on the road tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and forces himself to bite the bullet. There’s no need in stretching this out. “No, Solana, I’m—I’m flying out to Italy tonight.”

Nothing could have prepared him for the gutted look on her face. She’s clearly confused, smartly pointing out, “but—but you said you weren’t leaving until next week.”

His jaw clenches as he answers so calmly. “Plans changed.”

Her gaze is intense, her eyes never leaving his. “The plans changed or you changed them?” He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to. She already knows the answer. Solana swallows, eyes watering as she walks over to him. “Please don’t do this. Roman, what happened wasn’t your fault. I’m fine.”

“Solana, you are not fine. Have you seen your face?” It’s not intended to be harsh, and the coarseness in his tone is truly directed to no one but himself. “I know my strength. You know my strength. It’s a fucking miracle it’s not worse than what it already is. If I had hit you hard enough and at the right angle—”

“But, you didn’t.” She knows exactly what he’s getting at, and she refuses to allow him to travel down that dark 'what if' road. “Ro, I know you’re upset with yourself, but please don’t do this. You don’t need to leave. I don’t want you to leave.”

And deep down, he doesn’t want to leave. Would love to stay here and just go see his aunt with his wife, but that won’t solve anything. It’s putting an old band-aid on an open, deep wound. He needs to separate himself so that he can turn his feelings completely off. Disconnect and detach.

Or sort through in a way that is violent and unacceptable here. Especially around Solana.

And that’s exactly what being in Italy, being around those people, could do for him.

Roman tries to explain as such to his wife without going into too much detail.

“You’re right. I do need to get away. But, going by Fetu isn’t going to help this.” It’s not going to help, because he doesn’t have an abundance of confusion he needs to sort through. He has anger, aggression, rage. All unlocked by fucking McIntyre that he needs to do away with, and being around his aunt, cousin, and even wife won’t do it. “We can go when I get back—”

She closes her eyes. “Roman—”

“Solana.” He’ll be honest, he expected her to not be happy with his decision, but her level of emotionality seems on the higher end of normal. She seems more emotional than usual. “I love you.” And he always will. “But, what happened last night can’t happen again.”

He won’t let it happen again.

“What if—what if I leave?” She suggests, Roman frowning at the almost desperation in her tone. “I can go stay with Naomi or Bayley for a couple days. Give—give you space.”

“Solana—”

“Hell, even Nia, if that would make you feel better.”

“Sol—”

“Just please.” Her voice cracks as she grabs onto his shirt, begging almost, “please don’t leave me.” She buries herself into his chest, Roman holding her, wanting to assure her that he’s not leaving her. He’s leaving the situation to get a clear mind, to figure out what he needs to do.

Because he wasn’t lying when he said there’s nothing in this world that scares him more than losing her. Than something happening to her.

He just could have never anticipated that he could ever be a direct reason for something happening to her.

That something bad—or worse—could happen to her at his hands.

Because he swore he’d always protect her.

And he always will.

Even if that danger is himself.

Even if it means doing what neither of them may want but is ultimately what’s best for her.

Even if it breaks the heart that will always belong to her.

Whether they’re together or not.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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anisespice · 1 year ago

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“ hate your boyfriend ” || tokyo rev. pt. 2

one

synopsis: " you can pick me or your little boy. "

pairing: college!toman x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, sexual themes, MDI. toxic!toman, cheater!reader (pumpkin eater!!), enabling behavior, mild violence, vague descriptions of sex (cause i’m lazy), vulgar language, corny marvel joke, dirty-talk, moral compass is a roulette wheel in this one lol and i think that’s it :P

notes: did a little continuation of the first one before doing more characters lol i’m happy you guys liked the concept, lemme know who you’d like to see next :))) i don’t hate this one, but i don’t love it either (except maybe mikey’s) buuuut hope yall enjoy! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05

A week had passed since the whole kick-back fiasco, and MIKEY had gone awol. Aki was over the moon about it, for obvious reasons; as far as he was concerned, he scared him off. Besides, the less you hung around the delinquent, the better for both of you.

“That guy’s just a nuisance, babe. Good riddance.”

Little did he know, this was a regular occurrence. Mikey always did this—Disappeared for days on end, only to pop right back up like he never left. Whether it be due to gang related issues, or because he felt like it, this frustrating habit was one of the reasons you invited him that night, despite knowing he’d pick a fight with Aki. You had missed him…in more ways than one. You knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to you.

And in the wee hours of the night, not far after said boyfriend left your place, you received a lone message from the former blonde himself.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:03pm “ omw. ”

Short, but effective. His timing was impeccable, how he always managed to text the second you were alone was beyond you, but it made your heart race all the same. It was wrong, you knew that, Aki deserved better than someone who snuck around. You didn’t mean for it to get this far, but that was a guilt you’d deal with later. Mikey was your drug of choice, and tonight you craved another fix.

to : bad influence ♡ 11:07pm “ okay. but just for a little while. ”

Even if you tried to play coy, to salvage whatever weak moral you had left, it didn’t matter—The only one you were fooling tonight was Aki.

from : bad influence ♡ 11:08pm “ mhm. sure, angel. ”

It was a wonder how you didn’t draw blood with how harshly you clawed at his shoulders, fighting between wanting him closer or wanting to push him away. Mikey didn’t mind, though. On the contrary, he encouraged you to leave marks. As tempted as he was to leave his own, he figured beating up your insides would suffice.

Knowing you’ll struggle to walk tomorrow was all the reward he needed.

“God—fuuck,” he slurred, after a particularly hard thrust made you arch off the bed, forcing him to sink deeper. He gazed down at you with an all too pleased grin as you begged him for more. How could he deny you when you sounded so desperate? “Taking me so well, angel…always so good f’me…”

“J-Jiro..! Ahplease!” You sobbed, your knees practically knocking upside your temples as he increased momentum. Mikey snickered, angling his hips to continue ramming the spot that made your eyes cross, moans reaching octaves you didn’t even know you could hit.

“Mm, been feening for this dick, huh? Yeah? Maybe we should call up that smug bastard, let ‘em see how such good friends we are, right [______]? Bet he was real proud thinkin’ he got me to fuck off…but we both know who you really belong to. Don’t we?”

He wasn’t sorry. That’s the short end of it.

The moment Takeru decided to act all big and bad, breaking stuff in a place where he paid no bills, it was in DRAKEN’s right to set him straight; mama may not have raised him, but he still ain’t no bitch.

It took some coaxing on your end, but you were able to reel Draken back from turning your boyfriend inside out. But, after he forced him to pick up every broken piece of the lamp, he told Takeru to choose a number between one and ten.

“…Why?” Was his response. Draken raised a brow.

“That’s how many shards I’m gonna shove up your nose.”

“Ken!”

The look on the shorter male’s face was worth it, earning a threatening smirk from the mechanic as he slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Ahh, y’look like you were about to shit yourself, man! Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

For a moment, there’s relief in your boyfriend’s eyes. It was short-lived, of course. Especially once Draken’s grip tightened around his shoulder. “But I will. Don’t ever let me catch you pop off on [_____] like that again. Would hate for you to have to pick yourself up off the floor next time. You feel me?”

With a gulp, he gave a shaky nod; now he really looked like he shat himself. “Y-Yes…”

“Hah? Yes, what?”

“Y-Yes, Draken, sir?”

He rewarded the poor sucker’s obedience with a couple taps to the cheek just to spite him before sending him on his way. It was met with little protest, Takeru scurrying out of the room with lamp pieces still in his palms, not even sparing you a passing glance.

“Text you later?” You called at his retreating form. When all you got was the sound of your front door slamming shut in response, you swiftly turned on your heel to aim a dejected frown at your other houseguest. Draken sardonically pouted back at you, reaching over to pinch your cheek until you swatted his hand away. “Why’d you do that, you totally freaked him out!”

He wasn’t sorry. Draken shrugged. “Good.”

Merely rolling your eyes, you headed for the small broom and dustpan in your closet to gather what little pieces Takeru left behind–Might as well busy yourself to delay addressing the elephant still in the room. Unfortunately, said elephant wasn’t about to let that happen. Before you could even think of sweeping anything, Draken gently grabbed your elbow, those same eyes that stared death into your boyfriend’s soul now filled with something else as they appraised you, melting through whatever cold exterior you tried to aim at him.

He leaned down closer, sporting a slanted grin that sent signals straight down to your core. Sometimes, you despised how easily he made your insides flutter by just existing.

“How much longer y’gonna entertain that fucking loser, huh? He wouldn’t know the first thing about handling someone like you.”

You hummed, fighting the giddy tremble in your body at the challenging air that surrounded you both. With the inkling of boldness you had, you took the bait. “What, like you would?”

He wasn’t sorry; you’d be though.

The way Draken split you in half would make Lucifer himself bite the pillow. Hovering over his gigantic frame, chest bare with your hands perched on each pec, he manhandled you to take every unforgiving inch of his dick, having you feeling downright discombobulated as your hips struggled to keep momentum.

Forget about seeing stars, at some point, you were certain you saw into the quantum realm; say hi to Ant-Man for me.

“K-Kenny...I can’t...t’s too much!”

He cooed up at you, though there wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his tone. If anything, Draken enjoyed himself thoroughly, tongue-in-cheek as he watched you fall apart in his lap, just like he knew you would. With the way you tightened up around him like a vice, as if your own body was against the thought of him stopping, the former blonde chuckled breathlessly.

“Use the safe word then, doll.”

You glared down at him, to the best of your ability. With him practically jabbing you in the lung, it was more than difficult to say the rebuttal as smartly as you wanted to. “Y-you think…you’re so-oh! So f-funny…”

He did. Absolutely he did. By making your boyfriend’s name the safe word, nothing would soften his dick quicker. Plus, he knew you didn’t need it; just like you didn’t need Takeru.

“What? It’d be the only way you’d ever scream it anyways.”

“Welcome back.”

You paused mid-step upon entering your apartment, not expecting the ravenette to still be there. With a deep exhale, you paid him no mind as you kicked off your shoes, irritated after a tiresome process of checking your boyfriend into the hospital.

To say BAJI did a number on him would be an understatement…Man’s fucked him up. Sure, maybe Makoto could’ve watched his tone when talking to someone with such a short fuse, but Baji could’ve at least exercised a little restraint.

…Oh, who were you kidding? It’s Baji.

“What, ya not talkin’ to me?” Barely sparing him a glance, you set your bag on the coffee table before heading for the bedroom for a much-needed shower. Baji didn’t take kindly to being ignored. He huffed, standing to meet you halfway as he trailed behind you. Even when you attempted to close the door in his face, he shouldered his way in anyway; it was gonna take more than that to deter him.

“Quit being mad…said I was sorry, damn.”

“No you didn’t,” you replied, incredulously. You really tried it with the silent treatment, but knowing him, it was only a matter of seconds before he'd get you talking again. Taking off the sweats you threw on in haste earlier, you continued. “You said, and I quote, ‘Talk shit, get hit,’ then fell asleep on the couch while I had to haul Makoto to the emergency room!”

Baji shuffled his feet, “…Well, I meant to say it. Jus' forgot.”

You scoffed, walking into your bathroom. "What are you even still doing here? Don't you have someone else's day to shit on?”

“Y’kicking me out now?” He teased, raising a brow. What he didn't expect was for you to start throwing your toiletries at him. Although his reflexes saved him for the most part, Baji still got hit a few times as he attempted to dodge between a shampoo bottle and mouthwash. "Whoa! Hey-!"

“Maybe I should! Do you have any idea how hard it was to get him in and out of my car with all that dead weight, let alone into the building? Not to mention, his emergency contacts were his uppity-ass parents, so after they chewed me out, I had to lie and say he saved me from getting mugged.”

“...They buy it?”

You tilted your head, exasperated. "Wow. And here I thought the next thing out of your mouth would be that apology you 'forgot' to say earlier…[Sigh] Whatever. You just better hope when Makoto wakes up he doesn't remember anything, or else we're both in deep shit."

“Tsk. The fuck’s he gonna do?”

“He could literally sue us.” You deadpanned.

“He’s a pussy, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try me again. And if he gives you any shit for it, you let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, you mean like how you did today? Pass.”

He groaned, “I said sorry!”

“No you didn’t! And still haven’t!”

At the moment, it felt like the conversation would just continue in circles. With Baji stubbornly claiming he was in the right, and you combating his warped logic with colorful language and more stuff thrown at him, it's a wonder how things ended up here–With your face pressed against the cold shower wall as he gave you his fucking apology.

Over, and over, and over again.

While one hand wrapped around the column of your throat, fingers shoved knuckle-deep into your mouth to pacify the excessive whines tumbling out, the other made use of gripping the meat of your thigh, giving you no chance of running from the punishing thwap of his hips ramming against your wet ass-cheeks. The water cascading over your bodies had long turned cold as Baji chased after orgasm number five, his muscles ached from the strain, but he'd be damned to stop until he was certain all was forgiven.

Even if it meant missing every single one of Makoto's phone calls.

“God, I am so, so sorry, Takashi. Can’t believe he just…I-I’ve never seen him act like that before. Does it hurt?”

MITSUYA, despite the sting in his split lip, gave you an easy grin. “Nah, y’know I’ve been through worse. Fucker hits like one of my younger sisters.”

You had brought him back to your place to ice the bruise forming on his jaw, still frazzled over what occurred in the last half hour. Back at the restaurant, everything seemed fine when you excused yourself to the bathroom, having a blast knowing that your two favorite people were actually getting along. Unbeknownst to you, there was a storm brewing in Hajime. And the second you were out of sight, he used this opportunity to set a record straight with Mitsuya.

Evidently, he allowed his fists to do the talking.

You groaned, rubbing down your face in distress. “We’ll probably never get to set foot in that restaurant again...’m so embarrassed.”

“Hey,” he softly reprimanded, “Don’t sweat it, t’s not your fault-”

“I’m the one who begged you to let him come with us in the first place. I mean, I know you two butt heads from time to time, but I didn’t think it’d ever turn that serious. Please, Taka, just tell me what happened.”

Mitsuya shook his head, about to lower the ice pack until you shot him a pointed look. With a small exhale through his nose, he kept it on his jaw while he spoke. “I told you, he was probably pissed he couldn’t get a free meal outta me-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Haji wouldn’t explode like that over a fucking chicken sandwich.” You huffed, frustrated at his evasive behavior. He was holding back information on purpose, you were certain. Ever since the fitting, he'd been acting weird all evening. And that fight only solidified your suspicions. “Just tell me what started it!”

"Doesn’t matter."

"Taka-"

"Let it go, [______]." He laid back on your couch and made himself comfortable, even so much as turning on your tv to fill over the dead conversation. Mitsuya trained his eyes on the lit-up screen, still icing his jaw as he subtly avoided eye contact.

You could just scream.

Childishly, you snatched the remote from his hand and switched it back off. The lavender haired threw his head back in defeat, the hand holding the ice pack slowly coming down as Mitsuya eyed you from his peripheral; so stubborn.

“Be honest. It was about me again, wasn’t it?” His silence spoke volumes. “So it was then. Ugh, okay listen, I get that you’re both really protective of me, I do, but that doesn’t excuse-”

“I’m in love with you.”

You choked. Though, only on your words.

With that now hanging up in the air, you gaped like a damn goldfish, the remote slipping out your grasp and clambering to the floor with a clack. Mitsuya exhaled; no turning back now. “You…huh?”

“Yep. Have been for a while, actually.” He placed his arms behind the couch, wry smirk on his face. “Planned to tell you over dinner tonight, but that backfired fast, no thanks to that walking steroid you call a boyfriend.”

“Y-…You’re messing with me. Right?” The designer offered a humorless laugh, gesturing to his split lip and bruised jaw.

“Didn’t get hit for saying what a great pal you were, [______].”

Now it was your turn to be silent. A lump began to form in your throat, overwhelmed with the newfound information, borderline confession.

“So then…what did you say to Haji to make him so angry?”

For a split second, you saw a glint within his pools of amethyst as they slowly rendered to a deep violet. Staring at you from beneath his pretty lashes, Mitsuya resembled that of a starved animal on the verge of cornering its prey, causing a sudden warmth to envelop you as you squirmed under his heady gaze.

Sitting up a little, he merely beckoned you to his empty lap. You blinked widely at him, sputtering as you tried to protest the idea. But, what he said next played into your curiosity.

“C’mere, and I’ll show you.”

You blinked at him, uncertain; he made no move to rush you. If you were against the idea, you were more than welcome to decline and tell him to shove it. However, when you eventually crawled into the awaiting throne, settling all your weight on top of him to the point he couldn’t keep from groaning shamelessly, Mitsuya was fucking elated.

You gripped his shirt at the shoulders, sporting that signature pout you’d do whenever you wanted something from him—The designer was more than ready to give it to you. All you had to do was say so.

“Hajime’s gonna kill you if he finds out, though. Don’t want you getting hurt again because of me…”

Mitsuya chuckled, hands slowly rubbing up your thighs until they settled on your hips. “Don’t worry about it, sweet thing. He may have gotten two hits on me today, but all I need is one tomorrow.”

#🍁wasabi #COME GET YOUR FOOD #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #tokyorev smut #tr smut #tokyorev scenarios #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey #baji #mitsuya #draken

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hazbinshusk · 4 months ago

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kiss prompt 33 for Husk? 🥹

i LITERALLY love the way you write 🫶🏻

prompt #33: a kiss to a scar, mark or injury. I may have projected a little on this one, so be warned of body image issues with a plus-sized reader. Hopefully that doesn't ruin the request for you. Let me know if you want a different prompt written for you instead :)

Husk’s lips are soft and yielding against yours even as he leans into you, his knee bumping against yours as you sit side by side on the edge of his bed. He breathes the lightest of groans into the kiss, his paw slipping down from where it cups your cheek to skim over your shoulder and down along your arm. His fingers intertwine with your as his tongue slides into your mouth, and you whimper, your other hand curling around one of his suspenders.

Husk peppers kisses over cheek and jaw, mouth moving slowly but eagerly to the side of your neck. You giggle despite the nerves shuddering through you as you feel him bump his cheek against the column of your throat, the sound breaking off into a gasp as he grazes his teeth over the same spot.

“Christ, if that ain’t the prettiest thing I ever heard…” he mutters, bringing his mouth back to yours. You wrap your arms around his neck as Husk deepens the kiss, pressing you gently back until you turn and your back meets the mattress. He pulls back to meet your eye, his paw ghosting over your hip. “This okay?”

You nod, tugging him back down into another kiss. He smiles into it, his body moving over yours. He’s careful not to put his weight on you, to give you the space to push him away if it becomes too much, but you’re urging him closer still, excitement burning through the middle of you as you part your legs on either side of his hips. He growls softly as your hand comes up to smooth through the fur behind his ear.

“Husk…” you whine needily as you feel his lips dust over your chin and down along the line of your throat to tease along your collarbone. “Fuck…”

His hands are on your hips, and he squeezes the flesh there wantonly. You feel your face flush, and you tense under his touch. Husk pulls back immediately, concern furrowing his brow. “What’s wrong? We can stop if you want.”

You shake your head quickly, pressing your lips together. “I’m fine.”

“Baby…” Husk begins, but he groans as you push your hips up into his and grind, urging his attention back to his own excitement. His head falls forward, bumping his forehead against your chest. “Shit…”

“Don’t stop,” you plead quietly. “Please…”

Husk smiles softly as he nods and kisses you again, and you close your eyes, willing yourself to forget your insecurities and just enjoy the way he feels on top of you. Your breathing grows unsteady as Husk kneels over you, trailing his lips over your chest as he unbuttons your shirt.

“Fuck…” he murmurs as he takes you in, smoothing his hands down over your sides. His eyes are aglow in the dark, taking in every inch of you beneath him. He braces himself over you again, brushing his lips against yours before pressing his forehead to yours. He breathes his next words, eyes closed. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous…”

You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

Husk hesitates, pushing himself back to meet your eye. “Do what?”

You swallow, a lump forming in your throat despite your bid to stay calm and detached. You meet his eye for a moment but he looks so genuinely confused, and you turn your head, focusing instead on the bedside table. “You don’t… you don’t have to say things like that.” you explain, attempting to keep your voice steady. Still, your exhale comes shakily, your eyes unfocused. “I know… I know what I look like, H-Husk. You don’t have to—”

“Hey, hey…” Husk interrupts you gently, and you feel your bottom lip tremble as he cups your cheek, turning your head so you’re facing him again. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m—”

“You…” he states plainly, wiping a claw carefully over your cheek. There’s a small curve to his lips, as though he’s almost… amused by your reticence to believe him. He leans down to press a kiss there too, before moving down along your body slowly. “…Are the most…” he kisses your neck. “…beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen…”

“You don’t—”

“I’m not lyin’ to you, baby,” he promises in a honeyed voice, smoothing his hand down over your waist. “Look at you…” he brings both hands up to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently. His mouth teases over the soft flesh, your breath catching despite yourself. “Soft, squeezable fuckin’ tits…” he bites into the flesh gently, sliding his tongue over the same spot. It makes you whimper, and he smiles against your skin. “So fuckin’ soft…”

He moves lower, trailing his claws over your stomach. You flush, biting your lip as he traces along the stretchmarks you were so self-conscious of. Instead of pulling away, he hums against your flesh as he traces each one with his lips. You realize then that there was no hiding them – his feline eyes caught everything despite the low light surrounding you.

“Every…” he kisses the flesh covering your ribs. “…goddamn…” the other side. “…sinful inch of you…”

Heat floods your face and between your legs as Husk clutches your hips gently, resting his nose just above the hemline of your pants. He inhales, kisses the flesh, and continues his ministrations to each mark you’d spent hours obsessing over in the mirror.

“Is gorgeous…” he mutters, his tone almost reverent. He moves up to kiss you again, brushing his lips over yours almost chastely for a moment before capturing you in a deep, heady kiss that makes you moan. “But we don’t need to do this if you’re uncomfortable. ‘m more than happy jus’ bein’ here with you. Or I can spend the night makin’ sure you understand jus’ how much this body of yours turns me on.”

Husk’s lips touch your nose, then your forehead.

“’s up to you.”

You press your lips together against the warring emotions inside you, reaching up to slide your fingers tentatively through the fur of his cheek. Husk’s eyes close for a moment, a purr rising in his throat as he leans into the touch. His eyes reopen and the purring continues as he blinks golden eyes slowly at you.

“No pressure, sweetness.”

A thousand answers could have tumbled from your tongue just then, but you couldn’t find a way to trust any of them, so instead, you slide the hand on his cheek up to the back of his head and pull him into another, deeper kiss.

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

#aluss #husk #husk fic #husk fanfic #my fic #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin husk x reader #husk x reader #husk posting #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk

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sparrowrye · 9 months ago

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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 20

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 20: dark desires

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you want Husker?" I knew he was crossing when he first stepped out of the house. I sat just beyond the tree line with my back against a large oak. I had heard the door close, the sway of grass as he walked, his steps, his breathing, and felt his red magic about half way across the field.

I had barely slept last night. I woke up before dawn and made my way to my new sitting spot. I could hear the crash of the waves at the bottom of the cliff and the whirl of the wind across the field. The peaceful serenity was nice. The calm, external environment was helping me figure out how to feel internally. Until Husker showed up at dawn.

"I wanted to check on you." He stepped out from behind the tree.

"I'm fine. Never better. Why do you ask?" I had my legs pulled up and my arms dangling over them. I kept my one hand covering the bruised one.

"I thought maybe you would be happy that the curse is finally gone. But...you obviously don't feel that way."

"I shouldn't..." I pressed my lips into my shoulder to keep myself from spilling. I wasn't sure why I didn't want to talk about it with Husker. I had told him plenty before but this time I was hesitant.

"I'm usually good at guessing what's wrong," he tried, "but this time I'm a little lost. Did something else happen? Was there a memory?"

"No, he...I didn't..." I wrapped my arms around my legs and leaned my cheek into them. I was still holding my human form but I could sense everything as if I was in my Demon form.

My hands shifted so the bruise shone a little. Husker pointed and asked, "May I?" So I let him brush his claws across my injured hand, the muscle and skin popping and fixing itself. I turned my head the other way and gritted my teeth from the pain.

When he was done, I withdrew my hand to my chest and stared off into the forest. Husker was quiet. He sat in silence with me for a long time. I could hear his breathing and his presence sat on the outside of my shields.

I let out a huge sigh, Husker's ear twitching in my direction. I turned my head so he was partially in my view. "I don't...I should've known that he wanted something more with me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...I thought he just wanted to teach me how to defend myself against a Demon. That way he didn't have to ever think about keeping me safe again, but...I...he..." I struggled to find the words. I didn't want to tell Husker about the Sanctuary in case it somehow got back to Alastor. "When we touch I can feel both of our magic combining. He wants to keep me because it gives him more power. Which means...I can't do anything without him. I can't have a life anymore."

Husker was quiet. I could feel his presence fully around my shields as if to comfort me in some way. He physically sat adjacent to me against the same tree. I could hear his tail thumping and even feel it vibrating through the ground.

"Well, you know," he leaned over so his shoulder touched mine, "he's gonna teach you everything he knows. And you've obviously got your own kind of power and experience. Sooo...." he tilted his head, drawing out his words. He was waiting for me to finish but I obviously wasn't getting it. "So you may one day be better than him."

I actually laughed. It was short and high pitched. I stood up and spun on my heels, planting my hands on my hips. "This is the Radio Demon we're talking about. He's been around for thousands of years. He's had all that time to practice and master who knows how much magic. I've barely lived a second in comparison to him."

"True," he agreed, "but even he has his weaknesses. He's teaching you all the tricks which means you'll know how he thinks. It's just a matter of time."

"That's what I'm upset about." I paced around in a circle. I let my Demon side show and dug my foot claws into the soft earth. "In order to be even close to his level, I would have to train with him for hundreds of years. I don't even know how long I live for."

"Demons don't really have a timeline but most of us live longer than the average Human."

"I don't want to be stuck with him!" I yelled. My tail whipped behind me as my pacing increased. I went up to a tree and raked my claws down its bark. "I deserve to pick the life I want to live. He gets to decide what life he wants because he's got the power, but I deserve to decide."

"He's not really..." Husker clicked his claws together. "He's more...you won't get through to him unless you've got some kind of power. And...you may have to suck it up and train with him until you've reached that point. You've seen how he reacts when your shadow shows up."

I glanced down as my shadow morphed into the woman. I had yet to come up with a name, though I was heavily leaning towards Alcine. It seemed like a nice, elegant name for a woman who's shadow looked like that. She nodded her head at me on the grass.

I let out a strangled sigh. "I just...I have my own plans."

"I know." He pushed himself to his feet and stood in front of me. "I know exactly how you're feeling. So I want to do what I can to help you get there."

"What about you?"

He shrugged. "One step at a time. Maybe you'll even be able to convince him to let me go. But let's take this one day at a time."

I rubbed my clawed fingers together. "Okay."

****

"Are you finally ready, darling?" Alastor stood on the scorched symbol at the cliff, his eyes and teeth glowing brightly in the dim moonlight. His hands rested on top of each other on his red cane. I hid my Demon side as I walked up. My feet felt like they had glue on the bottom of them, making each step harder than the last.

"Where are we going?" It was the third time I had asked.

"Out. I think you've been stuck in this dusty house for too long." He uncurled a claw from his cane and held it out, his smile widening.

"You and I both know kindness isn't your thing." I looked up through furrowed eyebrows and an angry scowl. Anger was easier to manage than fear.

He hummed a short laugh. "You pain me. I'm not all bad." He inched his hand towards me more.

I sighed. "Yes you are," and took his hand. Our combined power rushed through my veins and took my breath away. I had to take a moment to recover while Alastor soaked in the feeling. He pulled me closer and teleported away. I nearly grabbed his arm when the ground disappeared. I was slowly getting used to the feeling of teleporting.

When we touched solid ground, I looked around at the dark landscape. We were on a roof but there were several huge buildings surrounding us. Not all the floors were lit up and most of them didn't even have windows or walls. I inched to the edge and saw a lively scene beneath me. The major streets were covered in yellow, electrical lights and people had to push themselves through the heavy crowd.

This was one of those Old World cities. Since the Great Collapse, many major cities had fallen to nothing but ruins, leaving mother nature to handle them how she wanted. I had been in a ring of sorts in one of these cities. When an old ring had been discovered, everyone had to go find a new one. On the way, Striker and I had spent a night in one of these big cities. He heard of a fighting league, a legal 'ring' fight with willing participants. He had participated in a fight himself then offered me up to their champion. The fight lasted under two minutes.

I knew he would probably still be in one of the legal towns, but that didn't stop me from scanning the crowd in search of Striker's sharp face. "What are we doing here?"

"There's someone I want to see if you recognize," Alastor answered nonchalantly. He stood just a hair behind me, his presence snaking around my shields. He didn't push through, which surprised me, but the fact that he was actively surrounding me didn't make me feel any better. I tried asking who I was supposed to be looking for but he didn't respond. He fell silent and just stared at me. I hated when he did that.

For awhile I simply watched. We were hidden on a roof that towered just above where the electricity stopped running. There was no one on the floors of the buildings around us and the shadows kept us well hidden from any curious eyes.

After awhile, I sat down with my legs crossed and continued to watch. I was actually enjoying it. I stretched out my magic sense and felt everyone who came within distance. I could sense their emotions and feel who had Full magic and who had Slight. There were a few Demons hiding themselves in a human appearance, their magic's color shaping their outline. I imagined myself walking in the crowd with them all, brushing shoulders and going about a normal life. When I 'touched' them, it felt like I was sucking some of their energy straight from their body.

A cold shiver ran through my body. I casted a glare at Alastor as his presence finally penetrated my shields. I tried wrapping my mind in a black cloak as if to keep him from reading my thoughts. I didn't know if he could actually read thoughts but I wasn't eager to find out. I turned back to the crowd to look for someone I would recognize. If he was trying to get in my head, that must mean he saw the person and wanted to see my reaction.

It took me a few moments before my eyes locked on a man. I didn't immediately recognize him but I couldn't look away. He had a sturdy build, an ugly frown, and scraggly hair. My heart quickened and my hands started to sweat. What was wrong with me? Why was I freaking out? What was it about this man? No memories surfaced as I tried to remember.

He walked down one of the small streets and I followed, scrambling to my feet and jumping to the neighboring rooftop. I watched him from my high perch as he strolled halfway down the less-lit street. He leaned against the old building and pulled out a smoke. He was wearing a long sleeve which seemed odd for such a warm night. He put his hands in his pockets and just looked left and right. I knelt down and continued to watch him. What was he doing? Who was he waiting for?

Eventually, a second man walked down the street and shook hands with him. I leaned lower and casted a light wind to carry their conversation up to me.

"That's thirty credits for the boy and forty for the girl," the newcomer said. He pulled out metal squares, called credits, to count them and drop them in the man's hand.

"What do you want next?" the big man counted the credits himself before stuffing them into his pocket.

"They're looking for two boys, around nine years old give or take."

"No girls?"

"No. They supposedly have too many now and not enough fighters. They need the boys for the fights."

"Nine is awfully old." The big man blew out a puff of smoke. "They can't disappear as easy as younger kids."

"Which is why you're getting fifty credits for each."

The big man coughed and took the smoke from his mouth. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. "Fifty? That sounds like they want a delivery."

"They do. They want them delivered to Swansbury. You can handle that, can't you?"

"Yeah, of course."

The newcomer held out his hand and the big man rolled up one of his sleeves. I leaned further over the edge to see what was all over his arms. The newcomer took the man's smoke and pressed it the hot end into his bicep. The man let out a grunt but didn't react in any other way. The newcomer returned the smoke after the big man had rolled his sleeve back down. The marks on his skin were all burn marks. Why did they do that?

"Your next contact will wear a gray top," the newcomer informed. He swiftly left the small street and disappeared into the crowd. The big man waited in the street, still smoking his cigarette. I watched him closely, trying to put together his face. I knew him. But from where?

Something pulled me backwards and I found myself in my mindscape. I pushed myself to my elbows and found myself in a memory. Not just any memory, the memory. The man trapped my hands against the cold cage floor and everything came running back. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed the fear in my stomach. I was suddenly standing and tripped backwards into my shields. I shook my head and pulled myself back to reality. I opened my eyes to an empty alley.

I jumped to my feet and rang along the edge of the roof for him. I found him down another small street, walking into another small building. This one had electricity shining through some of the shaded windows. The man appeared on the third level and collapsed on an old rickety bed. This was the man that had assaulted me.

My Demon side slipped out and I dug my claws into the concrete of the rooftop I sat on. So many emotions came flooding through me as I stared at him. He was a ring hunter. He was the people who stole children and sold them to the ring fights. I had so much energy buzzing through my body I didn't know what to do with. I wanted to bring the building down and watch him suffocate from the crushing rubble.

"You can do it."

My ear twitched as Alastor's lips brushed against it. My hands were shaking the harder I pushed them into the concrete. My heart couldn't slow down.

"You have the power, now."

My vision started to blacken around the corners. I was zeroing in on his helpless, clueless body on the bed. He was going to sleep peacefully and would wake up the next day to ruin another child's life.

"You can put a stop to him."

My breathing grew shallow. My hands were sweaty and my tail whipped back and forth on the roof. My wings pressed into the floor on either side of me to give them something to do. I wanted to jump off this roof and crash into his room. I wanted to wrap my claws around his throat.

"It would take a flick of your wrist."

Alastor's hand was gripping my shoulder as he leaned further over the other one. He was kneeling beside me? Behind me? There was so much energy bouncing between us that I couldn't tell where he was in contact with me aside from his claws in my shoulder.

"End his life to save so many." He gently grabbed my wrist and pried it off the edge of the roof. He lifted it up so my sharp, black claws curled around the man's figure. "Restrict his airflow." His throat closed and his eyes shot open. He clutched at his neck and rolled of the bed. He banged his chest as if to dislodge an object from his throat. "Watch him writhe as you did."

The man's flailing slowed until he finally laid still on the floor. The outline of his body grew red until everything about his was glowing red. It was his soul. I quickly cut off my magic. A second later the man gasped for air and the outline disappeared.

Alastor was everywhere. I abruptly withdrew and broke away from him. "I'm better than that," I clutched my hands to my chest, "I stopped the killing when I left the ring. I'm not going back to that. I'm not a Demon."

"Oh darling," he stalked over to me, "you are a Demon." He leaned down so his face was level with mine, arms folded behind his back. "It's how you managed to survive for so long in those fights. It's in your nature."

A door slammed shut, drawing both our attention back to the street. The man had run out of the building and was making his way to the crowded street. A huge, dark figure appeared at the end of the street and snarled at the man. He casted fire at the illusion and went the other way. Alastor chuckled and looked at me sideways. He grabbed my forehead, covering my eyes, and I felt my body drop.

A second later I was gliding over the lower buildings on the outskirts of the city. The man was still running, casting glances over his shoulder for his pursuer. Various black figures scared the man from certain streets, herding him further away from the crowded street. I jumped from building to level and back again. I could taste the fear of the man. It was sweet and electrifying. I wanted more.

The man tripped and scrambled behind a pile of crates. I jumped down on the other end of the alley where the man wasn't looking. The streetlight behind me blinked. The man's head swiveled in my direction. The light turned on and my shadow--no, Alastor's shadow--stretched down the concrete.

"Good day sir!" Alastor's chipper voice came from my lips. I wasn't actually here. I was seeing through Alastor's eyes. He stalked slowly and precisely towards his prey. The man tried casting fire but his veins bulged and he cried out in pain. He curled into a bawl, sobbing and begging for his life. Alastor leaned down so his face was inches from the man's and said, "You've gotten in my way."

His claws latched around the man's throat. Half a second later, the man's life faded from his eyes. He slumped into the ground and Alastor straightened up. He snapped his fingers to call the dark figures to surround the body. He effortlessly lifted himself to the rooftop and made his way back. I could see my own body laying on the ground as he knelt beside it. He covered his eyes and my own flew open, my body lurching forward.

"What are you do--"

He caught my chin in his claws and held our faces close. "You are a Demon by nature. Your power will grow until you can no longer handle it, unless you learn how to properly exercise it. That is what I'm doing." He shoved my face away and stood.

"What did you do to him?" I pushed myself to my feet.

"You'll know by tomorrow when I make my broadcast."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Thank you all for your patience, kind words, and understanding! I hope this chapter makes up for yesterday. How power hungry do you think we'll get? Can we fight the urge? How persuasive will Alastor be?

#alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open #hazbin hotel husk

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star-centric · 10 months ago

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Okay I have a mean request :)) So hear me out: something happens to MC (maybe they get attacked by another demon or smth idk) and it ends up causing Belphie to start getting nightmares about lesson 16 of the original game. Now, normally, if he has bad dreams, he'd go to MC for comfort, but he doesn't exactly want to make MC comfort him for him having hurt them, so he tries to keep it to himself. How it ends is up to you.

Got in the mood to write and I love this idea!! Reader is gender neutral!!

CW: mention of violence/injuries (but nothing gory/graphic), spoilers for lesson 16 in the first game

It’s rare for Belphie to not get any sleep. Borderline impossible even.

But yet he finds himself standing outside your door, late into the night. He’s sure that everyone else is sleep- he can’t even hear Lucifer’s cursed record echoing in the halls.

Belphie wants to open the door, but as his hand inches towards the handle, he pulls it back to his side. He wants to open it, crawl by your side to have your own heartbeat lull him to sleep like he’s so used too. But he can’t do it. He wants to see you so bad, but he forces himself not to.

He doesn’t know how he’ll react to seeing those marks on your skin.

Despite it happening weeks ago, your injuries remain fresh in his mind. The bandages that his brothers had to wrap you made his heart drop, and the claw marks that were left around your neck made him want to hurl. It was hard for all of them to see you hurt, but Belphie especially couldn’t handle seeing you like this.

Because it reminded him too much of what he did to you.

Sometimes he can still see your lifeless body when he closes his eyes. He still gets nightmares to this very day over it, his own malicious laugh haunting him.

His throat tightens at the thought of it, but he forced himself to swallow away his tears, his dread- how can he cry when he’s the one who killed you? When he was the monster? He doesn’t have a right to he feels, so he just bottles up his guilt and hatred for himself. Like he’s doing now, except he’s barely holding on.

Belphie is on the brink of falling apart when he takes a step back, repeating that he doesn’t deserve your comfort, your touch, anything from you- but his breath catches when the door cracks open. He’s frozen as you stand there, rubbing your eyes and yawning. You become a little startled when you become aware of him, voice still filled with sleep.

“Belphie? What’s wrong?”

The collar on your shirt droops a little, and he can see some of the claw marks on your neck peeking out underneath it.

Anything that Belphie had planned to say immediately dies on his tongue.

He feels your fingers gently grasp his cheek. He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until your thumb wipes away a tear, eyes full of concern and brows furrowed in worry.

How can you still look at him after what he did to you? How can you still show him love?

He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t deserve you and he knows it.

Belphie can’t stop the tears rolling down his face no matter how hard he tries. He finds himself on his knees, trying to control his sobs but failing. He wants to apologize, beg for forgiveness, but all of his words are spilling out jumbled together. All of his bottled up emotions rise to the top, unable to be contained anymore. He’s pathetic he thinks, but all he can do is wail as you slump down to the floor, taking him in your arms.

It only makes him sob more when he feels your warmth, your arms bringing him in closer.

Time becomes a blur for Belphie, and he finds himself in his usual spot by you in your bed. He wants to feel embarrassed, ashamed of acting so childish- but he just sinks into your side as your fingers lightly comb his hair. He hears your heartbeat in his ears, lulling him into a much needed slumber. He also hears your gentle tone- even if he can’t make out the words, it brings him a sense of peace that he’s been missing for far too long.

He may never forgive himself for both what he did and failing to protect you- but he will find a way to atone for his actions, from now until the end of time.

Belphie finds it easier to sleep for the first time in a while.

#messages.txts #obeyme.txts #writings.txts #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #belphie x reader #belphegor x you #obey me swd

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hitomisuzuya · 2 years ago

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Tighnari x fem!reader. Comfort Smut. Accidental use of an aphrodisiac. Abandonment issues mentioned. Some footnotes at the end.

a/n: Did you all think I was going to choose Scara? Nope 😋 I choose Tighnari. I have quite a few people who encourage to write for myself. So here I am. I hope you all enjoy as well. Please know every word I type is making me feel better. I hope it makes anyone reading this feel better to if they are down. I used one of my beloved @kichikichiko 's suggestions.

You'd been acting very peculiar for about a week now. Tighnari was worried. He eventually started making notes of your distant behavior in an attempt to puzzle out what was wrong. He could smell that something was going on.

*You looked tired as you sat with him in his hut, drawing a picture of creature called a dinosaur from a novel that was dog eared and thoroughly read multiple times.

Tighnari grabbed a bottle of something and offered it to you. "Here..this should help relax you to sleep since you haven't slept for days," he said quietly, setting the bottle down in front of you.

You smiled at him in appreciation, sipping it as you drew. No response however. Tighnari's ears drooped a little. He wished you would tell him what was wrong.

*He sat with you, murmuring quiet compliments about your drawing of the dinosaur. Your favorite was the one with the long talon claw on it's on the middle toes. He'd listened many times when you gushed about the Velociraptors from the novel.

Tighnari's ears pricked when you dropped your pencil suddenly. Your cheeks were getting flushed and he could hear your heart beat speeding up. He could feel some changing in himself as well.

When his eyes darted to the empty bottle on the table, they suddenly widened. "Oh no!" He exclaimed.

Tighnari had made a very VERY rare mistake. He really should've labelled the bottle properly. It was something he was developing for the mating season for fennec foxes. When the female drank it from a water source, the males would be able to smell it.

And now he'd accidentally given it to you instead of a very mild sedative.

He quickly put his hands on your cheeks, making you look at him. "'Nari, please.." you said, panting quietly.

And then it clicked. Your eyes may have been filled with lust, but there was something else there. Buried behind it was a hint of sadness. "Are you serious?" He said, nuzzling your forehead, "why would ever think I would abandon you? You are my mate."

"'Nari.." Was all you could manage to say. His kisses were deep and open mouthed as Tighnari let himself get swept by his lust for you.

Clothes were removed hastily and before you knew it, you were laying on your back beneath Tighnari. "I would never leave you," he whispered, peppering your neck and chest with love bites that would bruise the next morning. He didn't want it any other way. If marking you like this would reassure you, then he would do it all night.

The way you were moaning while he sucked and bit your skin was starting to make him feel frenzied and feral. Rubbing your clit, he plunged two fingers inside of your cunt, shivering when he felt how wet you were. "I'm sorry, my love, I have to prepare you quickly. You smell so good.."

You grasped in pleasure when his fingers found your sweet spot. You spread your legs, locking them in place around his hips. "Please, just fuck me now, 'Nari. I can't stand it anymore.." you pleaded.

You felt dizzy with lust, the aphrodisiac had made you so sensitive. You tugged on his ears, making him whimper, turning his head slightly into your hand, nuzzling it. His ears had always been sensitive, especially so when he was intimate with you.

"Archons, I'm so lucky to have you," Tighnari said, thrusting his cock inside of you. "You aren't even mad that messed up tonight."

"I love you, Tighnari," you moaned, feeling your orgasm building like a furious storm in your core.

Tighnari's cum spilled into you, making his cock squelch in and out of your pussy. Your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades, making his pace speed up. He was determined to help you reach your climax.

"I hope you don't mind, but it's going to take awhile for the aphrodisiac to wear off," Tighnari said between his own pants and moans, feeling your walls begin to clench around his cock. "We going to have to have multiple rounds." His kiss on your lips was gentle.

"Shut up and make me cum again, ',Nari," you said playfully.

Tighnari chuckled. He really loves you a lot.

*I'm referring to Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. I'm a die hard Jurassic Park/Jurassic World fan. The Velociraptors are very favorite 🥰 Thank you for reading. I feel much better, but my responses to asks may be sporadic and slow tonight. Bear with me, please.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #tighnari #tignari smut #fem! reader #comfort smut #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x y/n

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captain-mj · 2 years ago

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More monster handler Soap please 🥺👉👈

I won’t stop gnawing on your leg until I see some tufts petting…

Realized I accidentally had updated this in a while and uh... my bad guys. This one is kinda short but I wanted to get something for it out

Soap felt great. He had helped Ghost come down successfully and while his clothes may have been sacrificed, that was just what had to happen.

Ghost had told him to leave when he could walk, but Ghost was also fast asleep and laying on top of him. Soap wasn't entire sure how this happened, Ghost had been sitting next to him, pliant and relaxed and then he simply slumped into him. He was considering this part of the success.

Ghost's tufts were out and right there. His head laid on his chest so it was perfect petting height. He had already stroked his wings... And Ghost was asleep. No harm in gently touching right?

Soap stroked one of them. They were odd. A mix of feather and hair. It didn't seem to have any flesh underneath so Ghost barely seemed to notice it. He ran his hands through his hair and Ghost started to purr gently. It may have seemed like snoring to anyone else, but he had been utterly silent and Soap could feel the tiny rumbles in his chest.

Soap thought about it for just a second before slowly, slowly, pulling the edges of his mask up. Not to see his face, but to see the scarring on his neck. Claw marks across his entire throat, like he had been panicking. They were deeply embedded scars and Soap hated to think that Ghost had ever been so distraught he clawed himself in such a way. He could tell Ghost didn't take good care of them. They were rough and tight on his skin. Maybe with a little convincing, Soap could put lotion over them. He was sure he could find a cream that would help. They must get itchy...

Without thinking, Soap scratched over them gently, like he first scratched Ghost's wings and Ghost, with no warning, bit him. It was through the bunched up cloth so it didn't really hurt, more just caught him off guard.

"Rather rude to take advantage of me while I'm sleeping."

Soap made an offended noise. "Not taking advantage of! Just wanted to look."

"At me."

"...At you." He sighed and admitted it. Ghost started to pull away and Soap instinctively grabbed him and pulled him back down. His body felt incredibly firm against Soap's own and he could feel the tension in him starting to build back up. Soap started to pet his hair. "How did you sleep?"

He felt the fight draining out of Ghost. "Well." His eyes closed again and his tufts stood up a bit straighter.

Soap reached down and scratched the spot on his wings, feeling Ghost fall apart in his hands. Ghost shivered and purred for a moment before shoving at Soap's hands.

"No."

"I won't do it again, but why? You clearly like it?" Soap went back to petting his hair and tufts instead.

"Hard to think. Makes my thoughts all cloudy." Ghost explained and nuzzled his hand. His eyes were slightly glazed over and Soap wondered where he was right now. Was he simply thinking? Or was his brain simply blank?

Soap decided to just ask. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was unconscious during the majority of my change. Sometimes I wonder what all was done when I couldn't defend myself."

Soap blanched. That wasn't what he had been expecting. "What got you on that train of thought?"

"Alex doesn't get jitters. He gets drops. Sometimes I wonder if my reaction to missions is caused by something Roba did."

Soap continued to pet his hair, letting him talk.

"I woke up like this. I felt a needle in my neck and woke up tied down and wrong. I hurt myself trying to escape." Ghost's hand pressed Soap's on the claw marks again. "Sometimes, I wonder if he did more to me. I would never know."

Soap felt sick. He was well aware that the army was not completely honest in the beginning, but the people who chose to do it were at least partially informed and later, once it became more understood, all subjects were briefed on everything before being able to agree. The thought of going to sleep and then waking up fundamentally changed in ways that seemed impossible... He scratched at Ghost's scalp, feeling him purr more.

Soap reached over and turned off the lamp, sinking the room into darkness. Ghost relaxed more, blinking slowly. His eyes had a slight glow like a cats and Soap felt his breath catch.

"Planning on staying the night?"

"If you'd be okay with it." Soap whispered to him, holding him closer.

Ghost pulled off and laid next to him. "probably a good idea. It's late and it may look bad. Walk of shame and all." He curled up, wings moving to cover him.

Soap looked at the giant lump, feeling the loss of the weight on his chest the same way he'd feel a bullet in his shoulder. He reached over and set his hand on him. Ghost tensed before relaxing, though he didn't press into it.

Soap slept well.

~~~~

Taglist: @nalawayward @joltom @azure-winter-crow @korym @cod-hyperfixation @revenge-of-the-bucket-demon

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alcoris-shiz · 8 months ago

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The Apple Falls Far From The Tree

A/N: So this is a series I'm writing, not sure if I'll release more parts because it was a coping series for me. The rundown on why you may not want to read later parts is because there is Non-Con/R@p3 for the storyline. But I'll make it skippable, you can just skip chapter 2 and won't have to read any of it.

｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ~ Master List~ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Chapter 1: His Dear Doe

Overall Description: (Mentions of R@p3) As the child of Lucifer, heir to the throne of Hell, and badass with a badass boyfriend, people normally know not to mess with you. But Adam has other plans, he has a friend in Hell (Didn’t think he was capable of that? Me neither, but this guy helped him- if you’re wondering, it was Striker). He decides he’s gonna make his mark. During the fight you get caught and used, left there but he doesn’t want you dead. He brags about what he did to your boyfriend on the roof convincing you he was dead. He goes back to fighting bragging about what he had done to you, causing Lucifer and Charlie to go feral. Getting stabbed by Niffty doesn’t stop the fact that he left his mark when you fell pregnant. Lucifer gives you a million chances to abort the baby, but you have a chance that it is Alastor’s. When you have twins they come out looking like complete opposites. But raising them in the hotel is what you think will ensure that they are safe.

Chapter Description: The night before the big extermination, you and Alastor have a nice evening together.

~ SMUT (❤️ ω ❤️) ~

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Y/N POV

I sat against the balcony, glancing next to me to my partner. He glanced back at me and his smile softened. “My Deerling, what’s got you all tight?” he asked softly scooting closer to me. I sighed, stupid deer always could read me best. I leaned over as he put up his finger, “Tis Tis, Mon Cheri- Don’t you think I could get an answer before you try to seduce me?” He whispered before scooting back. I giggled and smiled at him softly, “It’s nothing my love, I’m just worried about tomorrow. My sister has worked so hard for this, she has to win, I have to make sure of it.”

I heard static before my partner hummed, “Well how about we focus on tonight? I’ll court you, then when we can perhaps… make an occasion out of the celebration tomorrow?” I giggled and nodded, looking up at him. I felt as his hand grabbed my waist and yanked me tight against his hip. “Well, what do you say we get out of here while the night is still young, my doe.” I looked up at him and blushed. “Do you mean… actual like… sex?” I whispered the last word. I saw his smile widen and his eyes go dark. “Who said anything about that my Dear! Unless that’s what you want?” I paused and looked down at our friends and my sister talking to each other, distracted.

“We’ve never… I always assumed you weren’t into that.” He grunted and looked at me with an irked smile. “My doe, if I didn’t know any better, that sounds like you thought I wouldn’t bed you.” I felt his claws dig into my waist and I whimpered.

“I just had made the wrong assumptions my love. I would love nothing more than that.” I swear his smile widened. “Well, great! Then first, as talked about over the last year, I would love to give you a gift, but it is downstairs!” he said happily as he picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles gently. He led me downstairs and he brought me over to where our friends and family stood. My father had even joined us tonight at the request of Charlie.

Charlie spotted us and jumped up excitedly getting strange looks from the other company. I looked at her and laughed as she handed something to Alastor who bowed and thanked her. “What are you two up to? Should I be worried?” I asked as I faced Charlie, she shook her head and pointed behind me. I turned and saw Alastor on one knee, holding a box with a ring inside. I covered my mouth, shocked. “My dear doe, would you do me the honor of marrying me?” he asked softly looking at me with a soft smile. “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you, I don’t know how I could say no,” I said as he slipped the ring on my finger and kissed my knuckles slowly and up my arm as he stood.

“What? My baby is getting married?!” I heard my dad shout. I turned around to see none other than the big boss of hell himself, I smiled and nodded hugging him. He picked me up and spun me as everyone else came and congratulated us. I giggled as I felt a familiar hand grasp my waist. I leaned into it as I was pulled against Alastors chest. “My dear, I think it’s time just the two of us go celebrate our engagement,” he whispered into my ear, breathing slowly down my neck. I shuddered as he spun me towards him and handed me a glass of champagne. “Mmm anything for you my love,” I whispered.

(AFAB written Smut)

I groaned as I felt my back slam on the bed. I looked up at Alastor as he undressed himself slowly. I smiled at him and raised my arms above my head, his smile went dark as he slipped off his underwear finally.

“My Darling Doe, be a doll and spread your legs for me.” I did as told and spread myself open for him, I reach down and spread open my pussy for him to see. I watched his face seemingly go out of character as he seemed to short-circuit like Vox. I giggled and spread my legs farther.

“Come on, please Dear Future Husband, why wait and make me take this torture? I’m ready for you,” I beckoned him with my finger and I watched as he slowly got his senses back and crawled on the bed towards me. I gasped as I felt his claw circle my pussy, slowly pushing a digit inside of me. I moaned wantonly and pushed my hips up into his hand. He leaned down and our lips met, kissing passionately I smiled into the kiss.

Finger after finger made work into my pussy as I groaned softly each time, him slowly working me open. He smiled and pulled out while I whimpered, giving him a kicked puppy look. “Oh Darling Dear, please, I’ll be making work of you soon.” I whimpered again as he made his work between my legs, spreading me open like a flimsy doll. He slipped his cock into my pussy and slowly pushed in.

“Oh Dear, you feel so tight around me… such a good little toy I have.” He groaned as he rutted into me repeatedly. I pushed against his cock and he rutted into me, this caused him to let out a loud moan. I felt him shove into me again, I let out a scream and reached up grabbing onto his antlers. I felt him stop and look at me, his face now dark and scary. But I had a feeling, he wasn’t going to hurt me. “Oh my little doe, don’t you know better than to mess with me in such a manner by now?” he said smirking before grabbing my hips and slamming himself into me again and again with no stop insight. I was flipped onto my stomach as he raised my ass and shoved his cock back into my pussy. “Now my dear doe,” I grunted out still going at an inhumane pace, turning my cervix into mush. “I’m going to breed you, my pretty little thing. I’m going to breed you so everyone knows who you belong to. I will make sure that you are marked so well, you’ll look so pretty with all my markings all over you my little doe,” I whimpered and nodded my head. “Yes sir, I’m all yours Alastor, please knock me up,” I whimpered as he fucked me harder. “Oh my doe, of course, I’ll knock you up. All pretty with MY baby,” he growled into my ear. I nodded as he reached down and rubbed my clit quickly, just enough to vibrate lowly. I moaned out quietly. “Tsk my dearest, I said I wanted to hear you screaming my name tonight and I believe that is what I will be getting.”

He slowly pulled out until only the tip rested inside me and paused, “What’s my name dearest?” Alastor asked, voice low and quiet next to my ear. I felt as he slowly reached his hand up to my hair and yanked. “Al-ASTOR- Ah fuck! Alastor Sir!” I screamed, he gave a low chuckle and pulled my head to look over my shoulder at him. “Good job baby, would you like to face me while I finish in you?” I whimpered thinking about him filling me. “Wanna face you Alastor Sir,” I whimpered while he smiled. “Good little doe, you gonna cum soon?” he asked softly and rubbed my face. “Don’t know sir,” he chuckled and let out another tsk. “Would you, want me to try my hand at… getting you off?” I gave a quizzical look but nodded slowly. I felt him slip out and groaned. “Shush now Y/N,” he whispered and laid me on my back. I felt his lips meet mine, kissing softly he nuzzled me softly. “Alastor, wh- Ahhh,” he had made his way down, leaning down to suck on my clit. I gasped and writhed under him. I felt myself going to buck into his mouth but he quickly placed his hands on my hips and held them down. “Dear little doe, let me make you remember this as the best night of your life,” he chuckled. “Yessss Alastor~” his tongue prodded before fucking me roughly with it. He sucked and licked until I felt myself getting close, “Alastor- if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum!” I screamed. He fucked me roughly and I felt my stomach coil. “Cum my little doe,” I screamed his name and felt myself release all over his face. “My my darling doe, making such a mess,” he said chuckling as he licked his lips. He sat up and rammed his cock into me with no warning. I groaned and whimpered as he fucked me roughly, slamming his dick in me. “Beg for me to release in you little doe, I wanna hear you,” he grunted smiling sharply at me. I whimpered and began to beg, “Fuck me, cum in me. Fill me with your baby, fill me, and mark me as yours. I’m yours Alastor, all yours.”

“Oh- fuck” I heard loud static before whimpering, my release shocking both myself and him. I came gripping his cock with my pussy while he groaned. “My little doe, you’re... So tight-” He moaned loudly and came in me, filling me load after load. I whimpered as he collapsed down, softly kissing my neck and shoulder. Leaving a few nibbles that I was sure would show up later on as bruises.

“Thank you Alastor, that was the best night of my life so far,” I whispered nuzzling him. I felt his mouth turn and a smile rise more. “There will be much for my little doe in the future, that is of course a promise.” I smiled as sat up, his cock slipping out. I went to complain but was met with his lips against mine. “Now hush, aftercare is the most important part of lovemaking.” Alastor said with a chuckle. I watched him leave and return quickly, “I have a bath running my dearest if you’d allow me to show you the way,” I giggled as he lifted me bridal style. “Afterwards, a massage and the finest cuddles for you my dear doe.” he said brightly.

“Al?” I asked softly as he carried me to the bathroom. “Hm?” he hummed. “Thank you, for everything. Being my everything. I love you.” I whispered.

“No, my dear, thank you for allowing me to call you my doe. For letting me care, thank you Y/N. I love you very much as well.” He whispered and placed me in the bathtub gently. Warm water engulfed me and was topped off by him slipping behind me. I leaned against him as he wrapped his arms around me. Both of us sighing contently together, we chuckled in response. Just enjoying the moment

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Word Count: 1,849 A/N: Last warning, chapter 2 contains material that will make people uncomfortable, it'll be obvious what happened in the 3rd part so if I do upload it understand you can skip it if you wanna keep reading. Much love darling~ 🩷

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alsator x reader #non binary reader #afab reader #smut #reader #extermination day #still new here #please go easy on me #say it with me #ace people can have sex #no seriously we can we just don't tend to lol

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aerkame · 1 year ago

Note

I’m curious what the others finfolk forms look like, what kinda tails and colors do they have, markers, etc. I’m so excited for the au!

I am not feeling well enough to really draw so I will just give descriptions instead! I'll be sure to draw everyone at some point though, but if you want me to ping (or just message) you or anyone else just private message me or let me know in replies.

__________________________________________________________

For all neighbors minus Home:

Each and every neighbor will grow claws, teeth, increased height, increased strength, and webbed hands when fully transformed. As for clothes, they're designed to change with their form.

Wally Darling

Wally may still be the shortest of the neighbors, but he's still quite tall when compared to normal puppets (most finmen are huge regardless). When he comes off as a normal-looking puppet, he wears a blue glass colored (blue glass is a color, it is my favorite color-) clothing, or sometimes loose-fitting beach clothes if he feels like relaxing. He often keeps a red shell pendant around his neck area and a black single earring on his right ear.

When Wally is a finman however, his yellow felt turns to scales that range from yellows, purples, teals, and different shades of blue. His ears become thick and finned, each end going up into a small S-shaped curl. Underneath the clothing, his body is covered in soft red swirling and spiraling markings, something you can he on his cheeks. Unlike the finwomen, finmen don't turn into mermaids/mermen, so he does not have a tail at all and he instead grows various fins on his body, all very colorful. Oh, and don't forget the fangs and claws...those are pretty sharp.

Barnaby

Barnaby is one of the taller finmen, but not the tallest. You can usually find him wearing shorts, sandals, shell necklaces, and a sunhat. It's just so darn hot sometimes so don't expect to see him in a shirt really. If anything he'll probably be under a shady area or relaxing in some cool water.

While he does already have teeth and claws, they are pretty dull until he transforms, having his teeth become more shark-like and claws much sharper than anyone else's. However, Barnaby is the only one here who does not grow scales at all. Instead that blue felt skin will turn into something far more smoother and paler in color almost becoming grey but not quite grey. The spots all over his body stay of course, but they become darker and more larger, creating marbled patterns. Not only is Barnaby the only one without scales, but he is the only one to grow a tail and keep his legs. The once small fluffy tail turns into a strong shark-like one, being capable of causing someone a concussion or head trauma if he really swung hard enough with it.

Sometimes everyone suspects he isn't a finman, but even if Barnaby wasn't, everyone would still love the big guy.

Howdy

Being a fisherman has its perks. One being that it tends to be a good workout, another being that you can get all kinds of stuff from the ocean. That being said, Howdy is a giant when compared to the others. In his normal form, the fisherman has medium long blue hair that's often slicked back or just braided all under his hat. You'd think that running a shop and being a fisherman would leave little time for this man to tidy up his clothes but you'd be wrong. Everything remains completely clean no matter the weather, it's almost scary. Even the shell pendant he wears on his apron is constantly shining.

Obviously having double the legs and arms leaves him with double the amount of claws to tear someone up with. As a finman, Howdy's height becomes outright terrifying to anyone he meets. Forget the scary claws and fangs, his height alone is enough to scare the fear of God into anyone.

The colors of Howdy's scales match himself much like it does with Wally and the others. Green scales fade from blues to teals and tiger-like stripes decorate his body, leaving oval spirals on his cheeks.

Eddie

Probably the friendliest captain out there with the coat to match! Often times Eddie will be wearing his white captain's coat and hat, having a shell pendant pinned to the black suit he wears under. He always stays tidy, keeping his red hair slicked back under his hat.

As a finman, Eddie will also grow in size. This is when his usual friendly appearance turns more scary to some. Being large and having a giant captain's coat squaring your shoulders can look intimidating. Along that, Eddie's hair tends to get more rougher and slightly wavy, so he lets it down every once in a while.

Frank

Frank is the only one that wasn't a finman before moving in on the island, having been a normal puppet before. He still prefers to remain as his normal puppet self on most days unless it's rainy or stormy. Usually he is wearing vests, casual clothes, and colors that are muted in color, preferring to keep the shell pendant he has on a butterfly bow, keeping the bow as a reminder of his old life.

In the rare times that he decides to be more fin-like, the only things about Frank that change is that he grows teal, purple, and grey scales, square-ish finned ears, squared swirls, and fangs.

Julie

Being a finwoman (or mermaid) has it's perks.

Julie will on most days wear light colored fluffy dresses with thick high sandals, a large sunhat, and a shell necklace to match. If not a dress, then she'd be happy to wear anything good for the beach so she can go ahead and jump in the water at any time.

As a mermaid, Julie transforms her legs into a long and strong tail, being just as strong as finmen (no really, you do NOT want to get hit with her tail). Her scales often reflect the dresses she usually wears, which are deep shades of coral reds, pinks, oranges, and yellows. The fins at the end of her tail are wide and flowing, sometimes she'll even wrap herself up in them for fun.

The ears differ slightly from the others as they appear more softer and fluffy with light pink swirls and sparkles dusting her face.

Sally

Sally is sometimes nicknamed Sally Scarlet for several reasons. One reason being the clothing she wears. Everything is always extravagant or just screams passion, having everything in shades of red and black.

Sally is the only one who is almost always in her mermaid form. No really, she even has a part of her house with an indoor pool that leads to the ocean because she just doesn't feel like getting out of the water yet. Her tail is much longer than Julie's but more slim and much sharper, some scales being so sharp they can be flung or used as throwing knives. The weapon tail is made up of blood red scales with speckled black and gold scales scattered on her body.

She often wears a golden crown around her already existing crown (she's a star so duh) and dark makeup to compliment her scales. Of course, she painted her claws black to match. Dramatic...

Poppy

Poppy is probably the most colorful out of the neighbors, having literally every color in the rainbow on her. You can usually find her outside gardening with Julie, wearing nothing (because she has feathers) or just wearing a light colored shawl with a matching sunhat. She often carries her shell or clips it to a shawl.

However, Poppy is a little bit different like Barnaby when it comes to her original form, but no one questions it really. Like the other mermaids, Poppy will form a tail consisting of the rainbow, but the rest of her body becomes much larger and longer, resembling something closer to a serpent. The feathers soon turn into long spikes and sharp scales that could easily cut through steel. Her wings become giant fins and her beak grows a sharp curved end. She doesn't transform ever much like Frank due to her scaring herself and others sometimes.

Home

It is known that Home has a physical body, but no one other than Wally has talked to him. The only time anyone ever gets a glimpse of Home is when a shell is being given to a neighbor. Large clawed and black scaly hands reach out from the dark whirlpool to take the shell and imbued his magic into it before it's given back.

Sorry for any spelling errors, I'm a bit tired right now.

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minniesmutt · 8 months ago

Note

Out here on my hybrid!skz agenda but mythical beast instead of their skzoos with a tad bit of Magical being!Reader (this go so freaking long)

Acient Dragon!Chan, his hoard are his handpicked weird little family including you. Very possessive if someone outside of his family were to even so much as look at you wrong, their existence will shortly cease to be. Marking what is his, sent marking (golden shower time or filling your cunt to the brim with his cum), leaving actual marks (scratches, bites, hickeys, handprints), making you wear his clothing is a big one, they may be slightly tatterd from his claws or mildly singed from his fire though.

White Tiger!Lee Know (the white tiger was seen as a guardian in some older asain cultures) ofc a feline. Seemingly cold and standoff-ish but is really just watching his pride and ensuring their safety. He is most definitely an absolute cuddle bug behind closed doors. Kneeding your thighs, stomach, arms, hands, but most importantly your ass and tits, just the most perfect spot to lay a hand and dig his claws in

NachtKrapp!Changbin (Night Raven) a guardian for the good kids who can't sleep and a nightmare for the troublesome kids who won't listen to their parents. The NachtKrapp is known to sing soothing melodies for those who wish to sleep and will take and punish those who refuse to sleep. But for you he'll always sing you the sweetest melodies and wrap you in his wings where you'll be nice and warm away from nightmares and all that may haunt you. Better yet he even will let you play with the softest down feathers at the base of his sensitive wing but you'll have to deal with the half chub he's sporting because of that.

Nuggle!Hyunjin once just a water spirit that looked after the beauty in his rivers and lochs but when one little farm boy got too curious as to who was pulling pranks on his family livestock, he found Hyunjin mesmerized by the herd drinking from his rivers. But ever the Channie to the rescue giving the lively jokester spirit a different body of water to look after and let beauty flourish in and around. But once he met you the flora began to match the shade of your eyes and hair, waters full of your favorite little sea creatures that will follow you along the water's edge because Hyunjin tells them day after day that you are the most beautiful being he's ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Jersey Devil!Han nothing but pure chaos and rambunctious energy, just bouncing off the walls, pulling pranks alongside Nuggle!Hyunjin, extremely agile and a never ending stamina. Refractory period, nonexistent, he can go blow for blow. He accidentally broke your favorite possession, make him blow loads for hours on end until he is sobbing apologies and promising to be more careful around your things. But the second he finds out that that item was already already repaired by Channie seconds after he broke it he'll be getting his payback on you for how many loads you made him waste.

Feline Shifter Familiar!Felix He is the only one that you knew before you were welcomed into Channie's little lovely family. Felix was your childhood best friend and your first for many things. He helped you find out your true nature and you showed him what a good familiar he was even if he was still learning the little things about making his appearance look normal in either form. Once he learned he could keep certain feline attributes in his human form he asked if he could eat you out with his rough cat tongue. And it took a few moments for him to find the perfect middle ground between human tongue and cat tongue so that he didn't hurt you but once he did you were crawling back for head from him because he had your legs shaking in seconds with that tongue.

Hellhound!Seungmin really lived up to his name because boy did he make you life hell occasionally. A hellhound in rut and a pretty lover near by, you bet he kept you all to himself the moment his pre-rut made itself known. He will have all the time he could ever want to bend you, fold you, hold you, breed your needy holes, and talk all about how stunning you'd be carrying his pups, he will stuff you full of his come till the sheer volume is pushing him out if your cunt.

Last we have the maknae on top

Kitsune!Jeongin a mischievous spirit that lil do anything you ask of him be it mundane task or a treterous journey for a single ingredient you need for whatever concoction you are working on now. BUT when you ask him to use you like a chair so can hold onto him while he plays his games or works. He grabs your wrist to move your hand that was drawing mindless patterns on his abs, right into his pants and tells you if you can make him come before is match is over he'll let you do anything to him .

🍄 <3

something about hellhound!seungmin tickled my brain just a bit to good. idk why, but it did

#☾━━━━ [𝐊��𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒]#☾━━━━ [ 🍄 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄]

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justrambles · 1 year ago

Text

(Beauty and the beast steddie)

No.7 — Time

Mike is interested in Eddie's guitar. Eddie catches him sneaking glances at his Sweetheart, and decides to ask.

"You play?" he asks, gesturing towards the guitar.

"Do you?" Mike reflexively talks back, but realizes it's a pointless question and just shakes his head.

"I don't know how to play. I never learned. I wanted to, though."

The kid seems a bit sad and Eddie hates seeing him like that, so he decides there's no harm in offering.

"I could teach you if you want?"

And obviously it's a wrong move, because suddenly Mike tenses up and spits out,

"Yeah, as if I could pick strings with these hooves. It's not gonna work. Nothing ever works here. Thanks, Eddie, but no thanks."

"Whoa man- Mike, calm down. You can still learn, you know. There's no 'one' way to learn playing. I could show you the chords first and then you'll be able to practice it yourself later."

"Yeah, except there's not going to be a later."

Mike's still pissed, but he's gotten calmer. He now just seems a little annoyed at himself as he grumbles. It's a crisis averted and Eddie is relieved, as he secretly tries to come up with other ways to get Mike into playing guitar. It's just a hunch, but he thinks learning to play's gonna be good for Mike.

But then, (because he's got the worst timing ever) Dustin bursts in and shouts,

"Eddie! I need your help, quick!"

***

It's really remarkable, Eddie has to admit.

He stands before a wall in the boys' room, filled with jagged tally marks. Dustin looks proud of the abstract artwork, Mike's gotten tense again, and Lucas just seems tired of it all.

"Well, Dustin, it looks great. Didn't know you had a thing for art." Eddie has no idea what it means.

"What? No, this is not just some art, dude. This is my calendar. You know, I've been counting the days since we got cursed—"

"You mean Max has been counting," Lucas chips in and Dustin rolls his eyes.

"Yes, Lucas, Max has been marking since she has the most fitting claw for the task. But it's my idea, so I've been counting."

Ah, Max. Eddie knows who Max is now. Turns out the panther he met wasn't Steve. Turns out she wasn't even a panther, after all. He's embarrassed himself in front of the puma thinking that she was Steve, and he'd really like to not think about it now. So he asks,

"And about the calendar...?"

This stops Dustin from bantering with Lucas, and he turns to Eddie to give an explanation.

"Yeah, so, I've been counting the days with Max's help. And although I probably missed some dates on the days when we pissed Max off and she didn't want to help and I had to count in my head, I'm pretty sure I've got it close enough, so I wanted to crosscheck."

Eddie is now fully amused. Dustin put a lot of effort into this, he can tell. So he nods, indicating him to go on.

"So... is this May 17th, 1985?"

And wow, he's really close considering everything, so Eddie tries to answer but is cut off by Mike's voice.

"What does it even matter?"

"Huh?" comes Dustin's confused voice.

"What's the point of counting? It does nothing."

Now Dustin seems a bit tense too, and Eddie hopes this doesn't end bad. It seems unlikely.

"Well, Mike-, we need to know when we are in the time. We need to be prepared for when we get back—"

"Yeah, you keep saying 'when we get back' but we won't! That's the thing! We're not getting back, there's no 'later', we're stuck here, stuck in this body because of the stupid curse, while everything goes on without us!"

With that Mike stomps out, and Eddie can't do anything but stare into the now empty spot. Dustin doesn't look so well either, he mutters out a little "fuck," and walks out, too. Eddie hears Lucas sigh.

"So when is it?" Lucas asks a bit after, "Is it May-whatever-Dustin-said?"

"Uh, close enough. June 23rd, 1986. Should-, should we go after them?"

"No, they'll get over it. Usually they're not the ones fighting — it's either Max and Mike or Steve and Robin — but I guess Dustin has too much hope."

And the way he says it makes it feel like Lucas doesn't have much hope either. Eddie wonders what happened all those years before.

"Does he?"

Lucas glances up at his question.

"Do you think Dustin has too much hope, too?"

"Well, we've been like this for almost three decades and the curse is still not close to breaking, is it?"

The curse.

"Why do you think that you can't break the curse? What is it exactly?"

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #beauty and the beast au #intense kids #i think mike would be bit defensive (like the beginning of s4?) bc a lot happened #dustin would be trying to hold on to things he can control #lucas would have been tense too but he's trying to stay calm for his friends and little sister #eddie is just worried

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braveclementine · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 3

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (However they are very few so those under the age of 18 can still read a majority of this book. However please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

Present

💙💙💙💙

𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 a start. What had woken me up? And then, I felt the burning pain against my chest, quickly sat up, lifted the heart shaped necklace off from around my neck, and tossed it across the room. It made a dull clunking noise as it hit the wall, falling to the floor. I slipped out of bed and crossed the room.

I quickly rushed to the bathroom and pulled the ice cold knob out in the bathtub. The water pooled in the bottom of the tub while I undressed and then I climbed in, facedown, resting on my elbows so that the ice cold water would heal the burning mark on my chest.

Perhaps the bath was a mistake- my entire body was freezing except for the spot where my locket had burned me. Though, slowly but surely, my body started to adjust.

As I lay there, I thought about what this meant. The last time the locket had burned my chest was when Voldemort had possessed Professor Quirrell in my first year at Hogwarts. . . nearly three years ago.

I remembered my dream of course, every word of it. Voldemort suspected that I was Harry's sister. Of course, he would be right, but no one was supposed to know. I felt a shiver go through me, but it could've been the ice cold water.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, "Elizabeth?" Dad's voiced sounded sleepy, but concerned.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" I asked. In my panic, I had forgotten to check what time it was. It could've been two in the morning for all I knew.

"Yes, but it's okay. Are you okay?" Dad asked, less asleep, still concerned.

"Yeah, I'll tell you about it when I get out, okay? Or you can go back to sleep." I offered.

"I'll make breakfast." There was a pause and then he said, "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks." I whispered. I wasn't even sure if he heard me.

I heard his soft footsteps on the stairs. I laid there for a few more minutes, letting the cold water splatter against my chest under the faucet and trickled down into the drain. My back was starting to pain. . . perhaps my period was starting again. Trang had been right- periods were a terrible, awful, painful time.

It wasn't just myself I needed to be worried about. It was Harry too. And there was someone called Bertha Jorkins. Maybe I could prevent her death if the dream was a scene in the future. I had to get my hands on a newspaper.

I got out of the tub, wrapping a towel around me and trudging to my bedroom. I saw that Carter had landed on my windowsill, a present in his claws.

I fed him an owl treat for the delivery and he swooped off out the window. Sadie clucked her beak. I gave her a treat too.

I put the present aside, not opening it yet and got dressed. I turned on the light and checked where the locket had been lying against my chest. There was a large red mark but the heart had not seared on my chest. The red mark didn't even look like a heart, just a reddish-pink blotch.

It was strange. When Harry's scar burned, it was internal. When my chest burned- and I was sure it was caused by the locket- it was external. Why? How?

I picked the locket up off the floor and touched it gingerly. There was nothing wrong with it now. In fact, it was positively cool.

I put it down on the side table and pulled on my shoes and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. Then, grabbing Trang's present, I headed into dads' bedroom. I went over to where he kept the latest newspapers and flicked through them. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. There was nothing in the news.

Crumpets had already been made and there was syrup and honey and sugar on the table. Dad had circles under his eyes and I finally checked the time.

Oh, only 7:00, that wasn't bad at least.

I sat down at the table, pushing Trang's present up with the other ones, and yawned.

"So," Dad prompted, pushing a crumpet on my plate, "What happened this morning?"

I explained what had happened as I filled my crumpet with syrup. Dad listened patiently, his brow furrowing when I got to the part about Voldemort asking about me, and Peter's intuition about whether or not I was Harry's sister. I mentioned the crib.

"So he doesn't know. . ." Dad said, looking thoughtfully down at his own plate. There was a half buttered crumpet there. "That's something. . ."

"Dad." I hesitated and then said, "I was thinking that maybe. . . maybe we could go to Godric's Hollow today."

Somehow, the dream felt different. I didn't think it was a vision, I think it had happened as I dreamed it.

Dad looked up at me, his eyes thoughtful. "Yes, I thought you might say that. What do you think we could do? It's not as though we can get rid of the crib or change it's color. The damage there is done. Voldemort knows a baby girl lived in the house at one point."

I hesitated again and then, got up from my seat, and headed into the kitchen to get parchment and a quill. I sat back down at the table and, writing in my best calligraphy, wrote the following sentence:

In loving memory of Isabelle Lily Potter 07/31/1980- 04/16/1981

I showed it to dad. He took the piece of parchment in his hand and looked at it. Surprise went over his face, "This is your plan? You're going to fake your death?" I blushed and went to defend it when he said in a different voice, "It's actually brilliant."

"I was going to paste it in the drawer. I don't know if Peter looked through the drawers or not, but if there was something the drawer, maybe it could be put over it so that it looked as though it was hidden. . . I don't know if Voldemort will go back and look or not."

"We should go now." Dad said, standing up.

I got up, clutching the parchment, and said, "How are we going to get there?"

Dad thought about it for a moment and then said, "We'll apparate. Grab my arm."

I looked at him in shock, "We're apparating out of the house."

Dad nodded, his face determined. I realized he was a lot more worried about me than I had thought. I remembered back to last year, saving Sirius, when Sirius had mentioned what might happen if Voldemort got ahold of a person who could see the future. "Now." He said, sticking his arm out to his side.

I grabbed his arm and immediately, there was a swirl and my feet left the ground and then touched back down and I nearly threw up. I was dizzy too. Dad helped steady me and then we started up the street.

I didn't have my wand but dad did and I clutched the piece of paper in my hand as we walked down the street. It was early- no one else was up and I was able to look around at the buildings in detail.

I lived here once. I thought, looking at the old fashioned buildings with thatched brick roofs and wooden doors and fences with gardens in the backyards. I could've been neighbors with any of these people. . . could've been friends with any of these people. It was a weird feeling.

Dad led me down the street. Apparently, he'd been here before. We stopped in front of a dilapidated house and my breath caught in my throat. I'd lived here.

I put my hand on the iron gate and pushed it open and stepped inside. Nothing happened.

"Let's hurry." Dad said, putting a hand on the small of my back. "In case someone from the Ministry heard alarms or something. I have no idea if alarms were put on the house. Probably not or else there'd have been something in paper from Peter being in here, but nevertheless. . ."

We hurried and I led as though I knew exactly where I was going. We stepped through the door and we closed it behind ourselves. I picked my way over wooden beams and then made it to the basement door and opened it up.

I turned on the light and walked down the stairs as though in a trance and against the back wall was a pink and white crib. There was only one drawer and it was closed. It was also locked. Dad unlocked it and I pulled it open. There was a small, pink blanket in it and on the blanket was a stitched letter E.

I picked up the blanket with shaking hands. It wouldn't be able to stay here, the E was a dead giveaway. Dad performed a sticking charm on the back of the parchment and stuck it down on the drawer bottom. Looking around, I found another blanket with no marks or letters and after folding it up, put it in the drawer. Dad changed the green color to pink in case Peter had already opened the drawer and had only simply seen that it was pink. With another wave of his wand, he created a stitch I on there. For Isabelle.

Then, we closed the door again and dad locked it with his wand. I looked around the basement. There was cat food in another corner, moldy and rotten. A carton of books on a small, round table. I ran my hands over those. They were muggle books- probably Mums. I recognized Escape to Witch Mountain by Alexander Key. There were kid books in another carton. Mum had probably read those to Harry and I.

Tears collected in my eyes and I brushed them away. Dad put an arm around my shoulder, leading me back up the stairs. I'd come back for these things one day. Today just wasn't that day.

💙💙💙💙

𝕭𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊, 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌 watched me open my presents. I hadn't told her where I'd gone and done today and she didn't ask. Something about my demeanor kept her from asking.

Fred had sent yet another charm for the bracelet he had given me in my first year. I wore it occasionally. Hermione had sent me four books and a package of Chocolate frogs. Trang was fascinated with the frogs and I let her open the boxes. She was horrified at the thought of eating the frog until I ate one. "They aren't real frogs." I said amused. "Its just a charm put on the chocolate." She finally ate one and declared it delicious. I let her keep the cards. I had multiple copies of all of them anyways.

Harry hadn't sent me anything because, as I knew, he didn't have access to anything. So I didn't really feel bad. I'd sent him a cake I'd baked the night before, along with a letter and the book on Hippogriffs.

Grandfather had sent earrings which I was surprised about. They had paste sapphires in them. I wondered if they had possibly been grandma's but I didn't ask dad. He'd forgotten that I didn't have pierced ears and couldn't wear them. But I treasured them regardless.

Hagrid had sent treacle fudge which Trang also wanted to try, but I told her it was best to let it heat by the fire before eating since it could be as hard as a brick sometimes.

Dad had gotten me The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Skeleton Crew, and Ender's Game. I'd been asking for Skeleton Crew forever (I only ever asked for books). Dad didn't like Stephen King books ever since he'd opened IT in curiosity. Unfortunately, he'd opened to the page about Beverly and Tom and was disgusted about how rated R the book was. He'd burned it and said I wasn't allowed to read it ever again.

Trang got me a second copy. It was hidden under my bed.

Trang had gotten me books which included Pet Semetary, Cycle of the Werewolf, Speaker for the Dead, and Nightmares in the Sky. Three of them were Stephen King books and I showed Cycle of the Werewolf to dad, giggling.

Dad eyed it shrewdly and said in a light voice, "If it's written by Stephen King, I'm sure it's quite in depth."

I laughed harder, though Trang didn't get the joke.

"Did you know they made a Pet Semetary picture?" Trang asked, "We should go see it after you read the book."

"Sure." I said.

Ron's present had a letter attached to it.

Elizabeth- DAD GOT THE TICKETS- just like you said. We have enough that you won't have to buy any which I'm sure you'll be glad about. Dad says it might be a bit of a squeeze, but it ought to be good. Hermione's arriving sometime this afternoon so you better hurry over. We're getting Harry at five o'clock this Friday! Also, Percy's started working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Perhaps you'd find it interesting- I don't know. But if you don't want to talk about it don't say the word "abroad". See you soon - Ron

I showed the letter to Trang, "What d'you reckon? You want to come?"

"Of course!" Trang said with bright eyes. "This Friday is only in three days though. . . I wonder if mum and dad will let me come. . ."

"When does your plane leave?" I asked, folding up the letter and reaching for the last present.

"Two in the afternoon on August 27 ." She said, picking up the letter.

"I think I can get Mr. Weasley to drive you. . ." I stopped. Mr. Weasley no longer had a car. "Perhaps side along apparition? Anyways, we'll get you to the airport, don't worry." I said.

"Let's go ask mum and dad, ight?" Trang asked, getting up from the table.

"Give me a second." I said, opening the box that Sirius had sent me. Inside was a key. I slid it out onto my hand and looked at it. Along the side were the rune letters: Hagalaz, Othala, Uruz, Sowilo, and Ehwaz.

Trang peered at the letters. She'd been studying Ancient Runes ever since she laid hands on the textbook at the book shop. "House." She read. We exchanged a look.

"Can I see?" Dad asked in a strangled voice.

I handed him the key and he examined it. "Did he give you a letter?"

I peered in the small box and shook my head. "No. I'll put it upstairs in my drawer so I don't lose it."

Dad gave it back and I raced up the stairs. I wrote a letter to Ron telling him we'd be there at his house today, and then put the key in the drawer. The letter went off with Sadie after I told her to get it to him as fast as possible, and then stay there because I'd be coming there soon.

I went back down the stairs and went with Trang back to her house. I slipped up the stairs while she went into the kitchen to talk to her mum and dad. I packed up her broom and the books she wanted in my bag.

I told Carter to go to my house and take his cage with him. With his cage securely in his talons, I watched him fly down to my house. I put the bag on my shoulder. What a bizarre sight.

Trang had already packed her suitcase, some nights before in case we got this letter, and I pulled it down the stairs and set it down by the door.

". . . this family will get you to the airport on time?" Trang's mother seemed very relieved.

"Yes." Trang said, trying to keep calm though she was very excited.

"And you'll be staying with them for at least two weeks?" her dad asked cautiously, "Are there any boys in this house?"

"Only one." Trang said. I winced. I'd forgotten to tell her about Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Percy, and Harry. They were a lot more than one boy. "Elizabeth's friend Ron. But his sister Ginny, Elizabeth's friend Hermione, Elizabeth, and I are all going to be sleeping in the same room together.

"Oh!" Trang's dad sounded happy as well, "Well then, that's quite alright with me if it's alright with your mother."

"It's alright with me too." Her mother said, "You know how your father and I have been worried about how to get you to the airport on time. This is a gift in disguise."

"Thank you mum! Thank you dad!" Trang said.

"When do you leave?" Trang's mother asked.

"Tonight." Trang said. "I didn't know I was going until Elizabeth asked me. They thought she was going to be going later."

"Well. . ." Her mom hesitated and I held my breath. "It's quite a short notice, but since it works out so well, you should probably go and pack."

Trang squealed, kissed her parents, and shot out of room, and dashed upstairs. I snuck out the door with her suitcase and the bag of books and her broom. I dumped them near the fireplace in my own house, and then dashed up stairs to collect my own things and pack.

Carter was waiting, already in his cage and I closed the lid gently and brought his cage and Sadie's empty cage down and put them next to the fireplace as well. I packed my trunk with only my robes and textbooks I used yearly. The others I left since I didn't have room for them. I also packed my dog-eared worn book IT. I made sure I had artpads and an art kit I'd gotten for my eighth birthday.

I grabbed my own broom and brought it downstairs. I had everything. I had my dragon ring from my dad, my silver locket (on the outside of my clothes in case it tried to burn me again), and other jewelry from my friends and family.

Trang came through the door with her school bag and school supplies. I managed to fit a majority of her things either in her trunk or in the enlarged bag. We didn't leave right away, I wanted to give Sadie a chance to deliver the letter first.

We ate dinner with dad who didn't seem upset at all about staying home. "It'll be a full moon anyways." Dad said, shrugging his shoulders, "Besides, I'd hate to be in those crowds." He gave a fake shudder and we laughed.

Dad gave me a hug when we were about to leave and said, "Write a lot, okay?"

"I will, don't worry." I said. "Also, I dug out your best suit for the interview you have soon." I added with a wink. He didn't look the least bit surprised that I knew.

He kissed my cheek. "Thanks Sweetheart."

"Anything for you dad." I said, kissing his cheek and giving him one last hug. I stacked my trunk and Trang's suitcase in the fireplace, putting the bag across my shoulder, and grabbing my broom. That left the two cages and school bag for Trang. I grabbed a bit of floo powder.

"The place we're going Trang, is called The Burrow." I said.

"The Burrow." She repeated as though we were in English class.

I giggled. Then, I stepped into the fireplace and threw down the powder and shouted, "The Burrow!" And I whooshed through the fireplace and fell out at the Weasley's house. I quickly pulled the trunk and bags and stuff out of the fireplace.

"Fred? Ron? Hermione?" I called out, a bit nervous. We had just intruded, of course.

Trang shot through a moment later, Carter hooting indignantly. "Where are they?" She whispered to me nervously

"Oh! Elizabeth dear!" Mrs. Weasley said, coming in through the back door, nearly making me jump. "We only just got Sadie's letter. And who is this sweet girl?"

"This is Trang." I said, introducing her to Mrs. Weasley. "She's my Muggle friend but she knows all about the Wizarding World. She couldn't wait to see a Quidditch game."

"Arthur will be thrilled to meet her." Mrs. Weasley said with a gentle smile. "I'll take your things up to the girls room, shall I?"

"Oh, don't worry." I said quickly. "We can do it."

"Nonsense." Mrs. Weasley said, taking the luggage, "Go on outside."

Trang and I headed on outside where Sadie was hooting on a branch. Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and two other boys were standing out in the garden. Crookshanks rushed by, running after a gnome.

Trang looked at the gnome in fascination, "What is that?"

"A gnome." I said simply.

Mr. Weasley turned at our voices and said, "Elizabeth! How lovely to see you! And who's this?"

"This is my friend Trang." I said. "And Trang, this is Mr. Weasley, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Charlie, and Bill."

Charlie looked at me and said, "How'd you know our names if we've never met."

Fred laughed and clapped a hand on Charlie's shoulder, "She can see the future Charlie."

Charlie rolled his eyes and said, "Really now."

"No, he's dead serious." I said brightly. "I have visions and I can see the future. But it's not because of my visions that I knew who you were- well, mostly anyways. You just have blisters on your hands, which means that you work with dragons, so you must be Charlie. Which then means that Bill is Bill because he's not Charlie."

Fred and George roared with laughter at Charlie's stumped face. Bill, smiling, stepped forward and shook my hand.

Mr. Weasley ignored us and said kindly to Trang, "So do you go to Hogwarts too?"

Trang looked at me nervously and I said, "Oh, no, she doesn't. She's a Muggle." I didn't say this loudly, really only loud enough for Mr. Weasley to hear, but everyone else seemed to hear anyways. "But she's known about the magical world since she was seven. She also flys and plays a little Quidditch."

The others looked impressed and Fred said- almost in a daring way-, "Let's go fly now."

"Okay!" Trang said excitedly, and perhaps a bit nervously.

"We'll go get our brooms." I said and we hurried inside, Hermione and Ginny accompanying us.

Trang and I grabbed our brooms and we headed back downstairs. "Don't worry." I said to Trang "We won't be using real Quidditch balls."

This cheered her up greatly.

"Are you going to fly with us, Ginny?" I asked.

Ginny opened her mouth to answer when Hermione interrupted her.

"Elizabeth, can I talk to you for a second." Hermione said in a nervous voice. I knew that voice. It was the one she used on Harry and Ron either before or after they did something stupid.

"Sure." I said. "Ginny, you can take my broom and use it till I get out." I handed her the Nimbus and she took it and went down the stairs with Trang who was shouldering her firebolt.

I followed Hermione into a separate room and she said in a low voice, "Is it really a good idea for a Muggle with no connections to the magical world to be here?"

I frowned, "First off, I am her connection to the magical world- I'm her best friend. Secondly, she's known about the magical world since she was seven and she's never told a soul. I didn't tell her either so I never broke the Stature of Secrecy. She saw dad transform one night on a camping trip."

Hermione's mouth dropped in horror, "She's not a werewolf, is she?"

I got a bit defensive, "Dad's never bitten anyone!"

"Sorry, right." Hermione said quickly. "Well if you trust her than I guess it's alright."

I breathed out a sigh of relief. I'd have hated to have turned Trang back home. Though, to be completely honest, just because Hermione didn't think it was a great idea was no reason for me to turn Trang away anyways. I didn't hear Mr. or Mrs. Weasley complaining. In fact, they were rather delighted with Trang's presence and they'd only known her for a few minutes.

Hermione and I went downstairs where the others were already flying, including Trang.

Ginny flew down and handed my broom off to me and I joined the others in the air.

💙💙💙💙

𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖆𝖙 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 to Mr. Weasley at dinner every night. He bombarded her with questions about the Muggle world and she answered them graciously and bombarded him with questions about the Wizarding world. Sometimes, the rest of us talked over them and sometimes, we just listened with amazement at the conversations they were having. Apparently Mr. Weasley found the functions of rubber ducks fascinating.

I'd already talked to Mr. Weasley on the side, who said he'd be delighted to take Trang to the airport. I said she was okay with side-along apparation and the matter was settled. I had a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Weasley couldn't wait to see the Muggle planes. He'd been just slightly to enthusiastic about bringing her to the airport.

Much to everyone's surprise, Trang got along quite well with Percy, who was willing to tell her everything about his work and she listened with rapt attention to the smallest details, grilling him with questions.

Harry was supposed to be coming Friday, which was today at 5 o'clock, but Mr. Weasley was having trouble with the fireplaces connecting. I explained to Trang that Muggle fireplaces were not normally connected with the magical floo network which stopped wizards who got lost in the floo system from entering through a Muggle grate on accident.

While Mr. Weasley fixed the problem, Fred asked me what was going to happen.

"Yeesh." I said with an eye-roll, "You make it sound like the trips going to be so. . . exciting." And then I grinned evilly and said, "You'll drop your Ton-tongue toffee's and pick all of 'em up except one which Dudley will grab and eat."

"Lovely." Fred and George said together and I rolled my eyes again. I couldn't wait to see Harry.

"Would you like a Ton-tongue Toffee Trang?" George asked with a grin.

"Er-" Trang quickly looked at me and I glared at George.

"Absolutely not." I warned him. "I'll hex you." The others around us roared with laughter. Hermione remained amused.

"How's it coming dad?" Ron asked, just as eager as I was to see Harry. Hermione and Ginny left the room. Trang had out another book reading and I had out IT, much to Ron's annoyance.

"I'll have it up in a few minutes." Mr. Weasley said, testing the powder out. Ron glanced at my book again. He rolled his eyes.

"What?" I asked exasperated.

"How many times have you read that book?" Ron asked.

"About seventy-two times, why?" I asked. I didn't really know the real number but it just rolled off the tongue.

"I don't know. Don't normal people read a book once or twice and then never read it again?" Ron asked. "Is that the only thing you read?"

I sighed in pretend exasperation and said, "Am I normal Ron?"

Ron grinned, "No, I suppose not."

Charlie and Bill came into the room and sat down on either side of me. Fred shot them both a furtive glance. I barely looked up from my book and Trang didn't notice their presence. She was watching a Quidditch match through a book. She said it was like a portable TV that showed small clips.

"It's up." Mr. Weasley said. "Let's go."

Ron, Fred, and George were all going with Mr. Weasley.

"See ya when you get back." I said, winking at Fred. He grinned. Mr. Weasley went back and then Fred and then George and then Ron.

Trang looked up then, "Did they go?"

Bill, Charlie, and I all laughed. "Yeah Trang." I said with a smile, "Is the book good?"

Trang blushed, pushing her glasses up on her nose. Sometimes I wondered why she didn't get better fitting glasses. "I wanted to watch."

"It's alright, they'll be back very soon." I said, returning my attention to the book. "It won't take that long."

Indeed, five minutes later, Fred came back through the fire and waited. A few moments later, George came back with Harry's trunk. Trang was now paying rapt attention as though there might be a test on this later.

Ron came back a few seconds later.

I grinned. "Harry'll take a bit longer to get back." I said.

Fred and George grinned and explained to Bill and Charlie what they had done. Both of them grinned.

A few minutes later, Harry came spinning out of the fireplace. He nearly fell on his face and Fred helped him up and said, "Did he eat it?"

"Yeah." Harry said, straightening up. "What was it?" He looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh.

"Ton-Tongue Toffee." Fred said in a brisk voice. "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer. . ."

The rest of us burst into laughter, even Trang. Harry looked at us and I grinned. I got up and gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. "Good to see you Harry." I said.

"You too Elizabeth." he said with a grin.

"How're you doing, Harry?" Charlie asked, holding out a hand which Harry shook.

Bill shook Harry's hand too.

Harry peered curiously at Trang then who was beet red which was a hard feat considering her dark skin.

"Oh, Harry, this is my best friend Trang. She gave you the camera for your birthday." I said. "Trang this is Harry."

They shook hands as well.

"You don't go to Hogwarts, do you?" Harry asked curiously.

Trang shook her head, cheeks redder. "I go to school in America. I'm a Muggle."

The others laughed as she used the word to describe herself. "But she's known about the magical world since she was seven so it's alright." I assured Harry.

Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air behind George's shoulder. He looked extremely angry, angrier than I had ever seen him before. Trang looked nervous next to me.

"That wasn't funny, Fred!" Mr. Weasley said. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything." Fred said innocently, grinning. "I just dropped it. . . It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to."

"You dropped it on purpose!" Mr. Weasley roared in anger. Trang retreated back to the table and opened up her Quidditch book. Bill looked quite amused by this as I sat on the arm of his chair, Ron having taken my seat. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet-"

"How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly.

"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!" Mr. Weasley said.

Harry, Trang, the Weasleys, and I all roared with laughter.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted again. "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons-"

"We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle." Fred interrupted indignantly.

"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git, right Harry?" George said.

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley." Harry said earnestly, trying to get the twins out of trouble.

"Actually Fred-" I interrupted. "I was wondering if I could have some of those to give Draco Malfoy."

George, Ron, Fred, and Harry all laughed. But Mr. Weasley wasn't done. "That's not the point! You wait until I tell your mother-"

"Tell me what?" Mrs. Weasley's voice came in through the kitchen. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion. "Oh, hello, Harry, dear." Mrs. Weasley said kindly, spotting Harry. "Tell me what, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley hesitated and I quickly jumped up and said, "It was just a laugh that we were talking about."

Everyone looked at me in amazement. Hermione and Ginny came in behind Mrs. Weasley. They both grinned at Harry and I assumed that Harry had smiled back because Ginny turned red as well.

"A laugh?" Mrs. Weasley asked uncertainly, "That's not what I thought I heard, Arthur sounded angry."

"Well you see, when they were at the Dursleys, the Dursleys er- got a bit rowdy when the fireplace was blown up cause it was boarded up and Mr. Dursley was throwing stone ornaments at Mr. Weasley's head. He's just a bit upset about that. Perhaps a story is more accurate than a joke. We were laughing, he wasn't."

"Oh." Mrs. Weasley said and then turned to the stove, "Well if that's all it was, then you can fill me in later Arthur, I'm going out to feed the chickens. I thought perhaps it had something to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"I'll be out to help in a second." Mr. Weasley said.

She left the kitchen and the other Weasleys, Hermione, Harry, and Trang all stared at me. "What?" I asked.

"Wow, Elizabeth." Fred said. "That was. . ."

I blushed. "Well it's my fault for telling you what was going to happen. And besides, that is technically what happened, just some of the parts were omitted so that your father and mother didn't have a fight. But don't expect me to cover for you guys again, k? Now, Ron, let's go show Harry where he's staying." I looked at him meaningfully and Ron got up from my spot and I rose where I was still sitting on the arm of Bill's chair. "Coming Trang, Hermione, Ginny?"

"Sure." They all said and the six of us left the room. I heard Mr. Weasley say, "Just because she covered you doesn't mean that your out of trouble with me, understand boys?"

"Fast thinking." Ron said chuckling.

"I don't like lying, though the event did happen, Harry could've backed me up." I said uncomfortably as we walked up the rickety staircase. "I just didn't want the twins in trouble."

"And you like Fred." Ginny said with a grin and I blushed.

"What's Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked confused. We all laughed except for Hermione.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room. Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that. . ." Ron said.

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things." Ginny explained. "We thought they just liked the noise." I giggled.

"It's fascinating." Trang said eagerly. "Creating things that don't already exist."

"Only, most of the stuff- well, all of it, really- was a bit dangerous." Ron said in a more subdued tone. "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms. . . She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected."

I snorted, "Don't know why she expected them to get so many O.W.L.s."

"And then there was this big row." Ginny said. "because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop."

"They told Trang she could help out because she knows so much about business." I said with a grin. Trang blushed.

"Not me." She said. "Just stuff I've picked up from dad."

Yeah, maybe dad couldn't get a job at wherever Trang's dad worked. He hated businesses. Not businesses themselves, just working for them. He got headaches. He preferred teaching.

Just then a door on the second floor opened, an annoyed face wearing horn-rimmed glasses poked out.

"Hi Percy." Harry said.

"Oh hello, Harry." Percy said, "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know- I've got a report to finish for the office- and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs."

"We're not thundering. We're walking." Ron said irritably. "Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."

Trang giggled.

"What are you working on?" Harry asked in interest.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation." Percy's voice was smug. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too think- leakages had been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year-"

"That'll change the world, that report will. Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks." Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"It's interesting." Trang said with a frown. Percy looked smug again.

"Yeah, yeah." Ron said, stomping up the stairs. Percy slammed his door shut.

We followed up and when we got upstairs into Ron's bedroom, I flopped down on Fred's bed. Pigwidgeon was hooting hooting loudly in his cage.

"Shut up, Pig. Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room." Ron said. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work."

"Er- why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron, confused.

I laughed.

"Because he's being stupid. It's proper name is Pigwidgeon." Ginny said.

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all." Ron said sarcastically. To Harry he said, "Ginny named him. She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that."

I snorted, knowing Ron all to well.

"Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Out in the garden, I expect. He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before." Hermione said, sitting down on a bed as well. I noticed Trang kept looking at Harry and then away. Ginny had competition.

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" Harry asked sitting down on the same bed as I was.

"Enjoying it?" Ron asked in a dark voice as though it was against the law to like working. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch. . . as I was saying to Mr. Crouch. . . Mr. Crouch is of the opinion. . . Mr. Crouch was telling me. . . They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

Trang laughed and then asked, "But surely it's not a bad thing to like your boss?"

Ron scoffed, "When it's an obsession it is."

"Have you had a good summer?" Hermione interrupted. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot. They save my life, those cakes." Harry said fervently.

"And have you heard from-" Ron started and then cut off.

I quickly said, "Twice, huge tropical birds."

"Nice to know." Hermione said.

"What?" Ginny asked, confused.

I patted her on the shoulder, "Don't worry, I'll tell you after the end of this school year." and I winked at her. "Alright!" I said cheerfully to the others, "Let's go downstairs and help your mum with dinner, shall we?" And I led the way out of the room, Ginny muttering darkly about murder behind me.

⬅️➡️

#Braveclementineworks #BraveclementineNovels #Novel #ElizabethKane #ElizabethKaneseries #ElizabethKaneandtheGobletofFire #Goblet of Fire #The Burrow #Weasley Family #Weasely Twins #Bill Weasley #Harry Potter sister #TrangNyguen #RemusLupin #Elizabeth Potter #Harry Potter #HermioneGranger #Quidditch

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hanwenzhou · 2 years ago

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Fic Appreciation Time!

Dearly beloved Han Ying fans, today I would like to present you with some of my favorite Han Ying fics -- with a catch. This blog obviously has a hanwenzhou focus, ergo the url, but the rare and beautiful species of Ying'er deserves to be appreciated on its own too.

So today I bring you non-hanwenzhou fics, in which Han Ying plays a central or at least important role. Some will contain different Han Ying ships (though, well, I did not entirely manage to avoid Han Ying/Zhou Zishu, but you'll see why!). Some contain awesome platonic dynamics. Without further ado:

Qi Ding Gui by @chi-chi-chimera, now also with podfic

Main pairing: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu

Summary: After placing the first of seven nails into his body, Zhou Zishu's plan is unfortunatly discovered by Prince Jin. Running from suffocating captivity, there is nowhere else in the world to hide but the notorious Ghost Valley. Memories of Siji Manor and much of his past washed away by Meng Po soup, Zhou Zishu cheerfully carves out a new place for himself and draws the attention of the vicious Valley Master while he does it.

Second Choice Isn't Second Best, part of the same series, of course also by @chi-chi-chimera

Main pairing: Han Ying/OMC

Zhou Zishu probably doesn't realise how big an impact his arrival in Ghost Valley had on the people around him. For some, it's the difference between a living death and a new life. You can't blame them for falling a bit in love. Pity he already has a soulmate.

Companion piece to Qi Ding Gui from a certain xiao-Yu's point of view. You probably do need to read Qi Ding Gui, the previous series fic, to understand what's going on here.

Spare Me by staringatstars

Main pairing: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu

Summary: Wen Kexing knows Zhou Zishu. He is not known, in turn, but that has never stopped him before.

Spring Festival: A Time for New Beginnings by @luckydragon10

Main pairing: Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu

Summary: It’s during the Spring Festival that Xingming picks the wrong pocket. He’s fifteen, and he thinks he knows a good mark from a bad one. He spots the old man in the crowded market — he’s big but slow, walking with a careful gait that suggests a hidden limp. However, when Xingming liberates the man’s purse and ducks into an alleyway, the man is already there waiting for him.

Tell Me That The Night Is Long by @aiyexayen

Main pairing: Han Ying/Liu Qianqiao/Zhou Zishu

Summary: Qianqiao waits for what promises to be an intense evening, and takes a moment to reflect on her reflection.

Sweaters and Slippers verse containing 2 fics by Petis Pois

Main pairing: Shen Shen/Han Ying

Kitten Has Claws by @bladedweaponsandswishycoats

Main pairing: pre-Han Ying/Zhou Zishu (but it is more HY-centric! I didn't cheat to get this on here because I love it, what are you talking about!)

Summary: In which Han Ying may be a little meow meow, but he is also *absolutely* a murder kitten.

In Tianchuang, the missions that require seducing and then murdering a target are assigned only to members with the most advanced skills; Zhou Shouling himself takes many of them. Han Ying has recently past his senior exams, and so qualifies to take on such missions. This is his first.

Please check out the individual tags and warnings of each fic before reading. And if you enjoyed one of them, show the author some love! Or if I'm missing one that you already know and love, drop off your own suggestions in a reblog. Spread the appreciation around 💖

#han ying #han ying/oc #han ying/shen shen #han ying/liu qianqiao/zhou zishu #rec list #han ying rare pairs #ao3 fic

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ursamajorstory · 1 year ago

Text

Deal's a deal

[The Beginning] - [Part 4] - [Part 6]

Word count: 2893

Ursa was escorted to the captain’s quarters of the ship. It was certainly more spacious than the rest of the cabins he’s seen throughout the ship, properly decorated with star maps and shelves of alien trinkets. Ursa could almost picture it closer to that of a ship captain at sea rather than that of space. Perhaps that was simply the reality of this new age. As he entered, he saw Captain Vaughn sitting at a desk, his eyes glued to a translucent screen till they shifted over to stare at Ursa. That piercing gaze slowly softened, his tense jaw slowly curling into a smile.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to worry something was truly holding you up,” Captain Vaughn slowly stood from his seat, walking across his quarters to approach Ursa. “Is that what you were wearing before?”

Ursa swallowed thickly as he became aware of how the Captain spoke to him before. He was anxious to impress Captain Vaughn more than anything. “It’s a, uh… It’s a space suit fitted for my species. My helmet is letting me breathe better. Sorry to surprise you with it.” Ursa was beginning to feel unflattering in the space suit rather than proud to represent humans. The suit was frumpy and heavy, too thick to give himself any sort of figure he could impress the Captain with.

“Well, every species needs their accommodations, huh?” Vaughn nodded as he approached Ursa, tapping his claw on the top of his helmet with a short chuckle, “So be it, then. Come with me, I wish to show you something.”

Ursa followed Vaughn across the captain’s quarters, unsure what the Captain had in store for him. Captain Vaughn pressed his hand to a button on the wall, revealing the back wall were simply shutters to a large window. Ursa couldn’t help his gasp as he looked out into the depths of space. He realized it was his first time truly seeing space.

And it was beautiful.

Stars glimmered like diamonds as the voids of space were gradients of deep blues, purples, and black. He could spot they were within range of a planet that reminded Ursa of a marble from Earth. Varying colors that shifted in winding landscapes on the surface. Ursa wished he could pick up this “marble” and roll it between his fingers.

“Wow…” Ursa mumbled, stepping closer to the window, glancing around as much as he could to take it all in.

“Indeed. I, too, was just as amazed on my first voyage. It’s quite the sight to see, yes?” Vaughn placed a hand on Ursa’s shoulder. “And with my help, I want you to see this sight as much as possible.”

Ursa glanced up at Vaughn, curious of what he meant by this.

“You see, I know you’re in a tight situation. Your plans you may have had for your life are now uprooted and drastically shifted. We were able to compare starmaps, able to get a vague sense of where you were attempting to go. The planet you named ‘Spes’... I do not think it is wise for you to go. We have marked that planet as condemned in the past. It is covered in a toxic poison and no species in the federation will be able to take you there,” Vaughn spoke with a small sigh and a shake of his head.

Ursa frowned, feeling his gut drop. Poison? He didn’t know how to feel, hugging himself as he thought about it. It’s been thousands of years. Maybe it really did collapse on itself since the humans were hopeful to go to it. After all, Earth had gone through its own multiple phases of trouble throughout history. There were once dinosaurs, an ice age, and eventually Mors. It wouldn’t shock Ursa if Spes had a similar fate of beginning, turbulence, hope, and then destruction. But man, it was still a gut punch of horror. There were going to be ships from Earth landing on Spes in another few thousand years if he predicted things right and they were going to step foot onto a dangerous planet that would not save humanity anymore.

“Are you… Are you sure? What if you have the wrong planet? I… We placed all of our hope on that planet. That's why it’s named that! Spes literally is the name of a goddess from my planet about hope. It can’t… really be all for nothing, right?” Ursa couldn’t help but doubt this, hoping against all hope that Spes was safe.

“I’m sorry, Ursa, but we think it’s a planet from a system we can’t travel towards anymore due to a star bursting out there. It’s far too dangerous now and the planet is, like I said, covered in poisons that no species is safe near,” Vaughn explained this with a small sigh, “I know how hard this might be to hear. But you must never travel to Spes.”

Ursa felt the energy drained from his body. It felt like this all wasn’t real suddenly. He must truly still be asleep in ice. This must be a nightmare of some kind.

He glanced at Vaughn, grateful that the shading of his helmet hid his expression, silence simply sitting between them now. Ursa trailed his vision across Vaughn’s alien features, as if trying to break the illusion of this dream. He must still be asleep to have this sort of news delivered to him. In a few moments, he’s going to wake up, he had to keep his hope. He had to truly believe in the Goddess Spes at this moment.

He needed to see Spes for himself.

But how? No one was going to be willing to take him there, apparently. Just like Lars said, he had no identification, no permits, no ship to his name, not even money that is valuable to the alien species. He was just a dumb kid who was lost to time and space now. He really had nothing as he had to step up to take care of himself now.

“Ursa, if I may…” Vaughn tapped his helmet once more, bringing him back to reality. “I wish to help you. Your situation is very dire and I… I think I quite pity your situation and I am sympathetic to your problem.”

“Gee, thanks…” Ursa didn’t know how to feel other than a pain in his gut.

“Come, let's sit and talk for a moment,” Vaughn led him to what looked like a rounded sofa, the two of them able to sit next to each other. Vaughn was a large alien, taking up most of the space as he also sat with his legs spread to accommodate the way they bent in reverse compared to Ursa. Their knees were touching and Ursa didn’t know if he should move himself even further into a corner of the couch. Honestly, he just felt totally out of whatever mood he felt before. Though, he pulled back a little as Vaughn reached his hand out for Ursa. With how little room there was, he couldn’t really move back much as Vaughn took his helmet off his head.

“There we go, now we can have a real discussion,” Vaughn smiled as he looked more directly at Ursa.

Ursa diverted his gaze, looking away as he craved to have the safety of the helmet to hide his emotions. He could hear his dad’s voice in his head urging him to be a man and face Vaughn, but it just made him feel more like a dumb kid all on his own. “Yeah, I guess so…”

“Ursa, you’ve been frozen in time and came from a very primitive planet that had no communication with the federation all this time. You don’t have a single unit to your name. Let me help you. Let me take care of you,” Vaughn urged with a hand on his shoulder, “The situation is bad, yes, but think of that feeling you just had a minute ago of seeing space.” Vaughn cupped his chin, turning it to look towards the window once more.

Right. Space. It was a wonderful feeling when he saw it before. “You’d… help me out?” Ursa glanced at him now, “What do you mean by that?”

“I will offer you work on my ship. And on my ship, you can be by my side traveling through space. We will go on many different routes and be able to visit all sorts of planets. Wouldn’t that be nice? You’ll be able to see how big the universe truly is. I will pay you for your work so you can buy the treasures of these worlds we journey to. This will be the start of getting you back on your feet,” Vaughn smiled wider now, urging him with a fist to his shoulder. “Won’t it be exciting to travel and explore? That’s what your species was doing already, yes? Traveling space to seek new opportunities?”

Ursa thought about it all. It seemed simple enough and certainly the exact thing he needed. It’s not like he had other choices, really. Besides, maybe it would actually be some fun to be part of the crew and work. “Thank you, that sounds like a really great idea. I’d really appreciate it, Captain Vaughn.”

"Of course, Ursa. Now, tell me, what was the job you were performing among your species? What do you specialize in?" Vaughn questioned him with a hum.

Ursa clammed up a little, thinking about how most everyone in the universe reacts when he tells them he’s just custodial. He wanted to be embarrassed now that he wanted to impress Vaughn. “I’m… I’m a custodial member. I’m really great with my hands and doing more hands-on work. So for my homeworld, I took the really essential position of a custodial member. I’d make sure there’s no debris and waste was disposed of correctly so it couldn’t cause future problems.” The problem was he hasn’t actually gotten a chance to do the full job, just the training and classes for how to emulate it on Spes. He was still just barely 18 when he was frozen in ice.

“Custodial? Is that so?” Vaughn’s tone waned a bit, the sign Ursa was really not hoping to see.

“Yeah! In my homeworld, uhm… they were essential. You couldn’t run a ship without custodial. If it weren’t for custodials, you’d have trash everywhere and people could catch diseases. It’s really important because of that.” Ursa slightly inflated the situation, but he felt that that was harmless.

“Ah, yes, of course. Tell me, how much was your average custodial member paid in your homeworld, then?” Vaughn waved off the concern on his face.

Ursa thought about it, recalling how much he was paid back then. “Uhm, about $6 and 75 cents an hour. I’m not sure what that translates for you guys, though.”

“Well, even then, it surely doesn’t sound like quite a lot. You’re such an essential member of your crew, you should be paid far more for your worth. Our currencies might differ a bit, but I think you’ll find it far more preferable if I give you a decent pay by our standards. Don’t tell the others, but I think out of concern for ensuring you’re able to get on your feet again, I want to write you a better contract. Why be paid in single digits, you know? I’m going to offer you a hefty 100 units per trouge,” Vaughn gave him a warm smile, rubbing his shoulder with his hand.

Ursa’s brows raised in shock. Going from $6.75 to 100? He’s got to hope trouge was just their way of calling it an hour, the translator didn’t give him a normal word for him to work with. He didn’t know how much the translation of currency was, but he had to assume it was still quite a lot given how Vaughn described it. “That’s…really nice of you, Captain Vaughn. I really appreciate this, thank you.”

“Of course, of course. Let’s just keep it to ourselves for now, though. I think some of the others would be quite upset to know how much you’re being paid. But the thing is, they’ve had their entire lives to build up their own savings. You’re like a freshly hatched sprout with not a unit to his name yet is going to be expected to be able to provide for yourself soon. Let me do this for you, Ursa.” Vaughn cupped Ursa’s face, looking directly at him now.

“Thank you, really,” Ursa felt his chest tighten and swell with reassurance. His life was in tatters, but he could rely on Vaughn. He didn’t know what the hell Lars’s problem was with Vaughn. In a way, he really felt he could rely and trust Vaughn.

“Now, let’s get you a proper contract signed like all of my crew members,” Vaughn patted Ursa’s leg before pushing himself up. He moved to his desk, typing directly on the monitor in a way that was still a bit of a surprise to Ursa. “Now, all of my crew members are on contract for an entire rotation and they will have it renewed every new rotation unless they choose to disembark at the next landing platform we arrive at between shipments. I deliver cargo across the system, and you’ll have plenty of places to disembark at.”

Ursa nodded, figuring a rotation was basically a year. After all, the name itself sounded like what he’d describe a year to be. “Ok, yeah, that makes sense.”

“Can I sign you down for a 2 rotation contract? It will allow you to have plenty of time to build your units up and 2 years is plenty of time for you to settle yourself in the federation. During that time period, due to the fact I am indeed paying you quite high, I will ask for you to work a bit longer than some of the rest of the crew,” Vaughn explained with a gesture of his hand, “That makes sense, yes?”

Ursa nodded, understanding that point of view. If he’s getting paid extra, he guessed it was only fair that he worked for it. “Yeah, absolutely. That makes total sense. And in 2 years, maybe I’ll even know how to speak the same language as you guys,” Ursa chuckled a little.

Vaughn chuckled and shook his head, “I would not waste your time learning our language. It is better to preserve your own so long as you have your translator device. It’ll be fine.”

“Now, usually my workers will work about 45 trouges per troyin. With you being paid a hefty amount more, can I ask for you to work about 60 trouges per troyin? It’s not too much more, just mostly covering some of the trouges when the crew is sleeping, as well. Is this alright?” Vaughn explained, though his tone seemed more searching as his eyes stayed on Ursa.

Ursa nodded, not completely understanding but hoping he was following along. It was work, and he would earn his extra pay. His dad would want that from him. Granted, a part of him was really worried as he was more of a slacker in school, but maybe this was the kick his parents always wanted from him. He really hoped he could keep up, he really couldn’t turn this chance down. If he turned it down, then he really had nothing.

“Yeah, I think that works alright,” Ursa tried to keep his confidence up, trying to not let Vaughn know he was getting nervous about making him proud.

“Great, come sign this contract, then,” Vaughn gestured for Ursa, “You can give it a once over read before you sign, if it helps.”

Ursa stood, walking over to the monitor to look at the contract as it scrolled down. It was all written in the alien language he couldn’t understand for the life of him. All he understood was that it was a bit long. “Sure, uh… where…how do I sign?”

“Oh, press the green button at the bottom of this and it’ll scan your face to save it in our system,” Vaughn explained this with a simple gesture to a button at the bottom of the screen.

Ursa tried to hold back the cringe he held. More of this demand to have his direct personal identification rather than just him signing it. He didn’t like it much at all. But, he wasn’t in any position to talk about his concern as he pressed the button he was told to. The scanner danced a light straight down his face and he held back from scrunching his face in discomfort.

“Great! It’s official, then,” Vaughn stood from his desk, walking around to shake Ursa’s hand, “I’m so relieved you are staying aboard my ship. I hope you and I can get to know each other much better now.”

Ursa smiled in return, shaking his hand. “Yeah, I really don’t know what I’d do without your help, Captain Vaughn.” A deal was a deal. Ursa was going to take this chance to set himself up. He’s going to save his money for a ship and he was going to see Spes for himself. He’s going to figure this out. He needed to believe in Spes more than ever now.

#writing #scifi #science fiction #scifi writing #original content #original writing

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