#and I survived!! Finished!! Even if two days got delayed I got through!

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 31 - Spoopy

Happy LATE Halloween!

[ reminder that this blog follows a 'rf2 Kyle is rf1 Lynette's son' headcanon♥ ]

[randomshyperson]

Lacy - Werewolf!Reader x Wanda Maximoff - Kinktober #07

Summary: This Halloween, Wanda receives a surprise visit from her favorite werewolf. The problem is that it's very difficult to keep a crush hidden during mating season.

Warnings: (+18), mutual pining, semi-public, very vague allusions to omega verse, beefy!reader, power!bottom wanda, a bit rough but they are actually sweet to each other, some praising and dirty talk. | Words: 3.144k

A/N-> First, I know nothing about werewolves. It was never my thing growing up (I’m a witch type of person I suppose) but I know about omegaverse stuff and since it’s wolf-based I tried some references from that lore. Also, I was totally thinking about Wednesday's show (and Wenclair ship tbh) when writing the school but you all be free to image whatever you wish. Also, the name is from Olivia Rodrigo’s song, ‘cause it’s such a friends-to-lovers/mutual pining coded lyrics. Good reading folks! 

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The mating season was always the most tiring part of the year.

Even as a child, her days were marked by hard work and running errands - her mother was always very busy with orders, and somehow, the twins were obliged to finish the tasks in record time, so as not to delay the calendars and keep Natalya busy when her customers needed her.

As the largest and most respected apothecary in the country, Natalya Maximoff was also one of the biggest dealers in magical items - and this also included natural suppressants. Her customers wrote to her from all over the world, many famous packs like the Romanoffs or the Howletts only bought her products, and the witch was always very busy at this time of year.

So when their mother told them that she would leave the Maximoff Magical Articles Boutique in their care for two whole days, while she delivered packages around the world, none of them were surprised, as this had been done dozens of times before.

Wanda's indignation stemmed from the fact that her twin brother, as soon as there were no more magical remnants of the portal his mother had conjured to travel through, put on a jacket and told her he was leaving.

"But you can't leave me alone!" Wanda hurried away from the counter. Pietro chuckled, adjusting his hat on his silver hair. Since he had turned 18 last month, he had grown a good few centimeters, and even with her best serious expression, Wanda, who hadn't grown much since she was 15, no longer succeeded in frightening him. That, and well, like his father, Pietro had a bastard heritage of lycanthropy, and with his new skills, he had also gained extreme confidence.

"What, you gonna tell me you're scared of some little wolves?" He sneered, his fangs protruding from his smile. Wanda huffed angrily, her cheeks slightly red. "Don't be silly, Wanda. You're a witch. Nobody's is crazy enough to mess with you."

He tries to pat her on the shoulder, but Wanda pushes a finger against his chest. "I'm not afraid of any wolves, you selfish idiot! Mom says the store is our responsibility. And you're sneaking off to do who knows what! I don't want to spend all night looking after this place on my own. Apart from the season, it's Halloween, and kids go apeshit and-"

"Jesus, Wanda, I'll make it up to you!" He cuts in, already pulling away and ignoring the other girl's protests. "I've got to go, I'm taking Crystal to the movies, then we'll settle up!

"Pietro!" But the call was ignored and the store door was slammed in her face.

Wanda huffed to herself. She could survive a Halloween night, but her brother would owe her a lot if he didn't want to be snitched on. She returned to the counter, texting him another dozen curses before texting to her mother that everything was under control.

And lucky for her, that's how the evening actually went. 

Most of the few customers who showed up were locals, a few sorcerers in need of ingredients, and even a traveling vampire who needed to replenish some reserves for a long trip. Some children also asked for candy, and tired of getting up so often, Wanda decided to leave the jars outside.

It was almost at the end of her shift, when she was ready to close the shop, that a delicious smell wafted into the room. Wanda, who was distracted by the holiday lessons that the institute where she studied always offered when there were short vacations or not, was snapped out of her concentration by the fascinating smell. She looked up just as a figure stumbled into the store, covered by a school uniform hood.

She didn't need you to remove the cap to recognize you, and yet, when your face became visible, Wanda felt her heart unlearn how to beat properly. 

"Good evening?" You looked between the shelves, approaching the cashier, only to hesitate as soon as you saw Wanda. "Oh, h-hi. Uh, is Madame Maximoff around?"

You looked uneasy, adjusting your hair and fiddling with your fingers. Your flushed face must have been due to the walk from the Institute to the store. 

Wanda shook her head as she replied: "She had some orders to place. How can I help you?"

The color of your face deepened, and you couldn't look her in the eye for more than two seconds. "Hmm, I kind of need... suppressants." And it was the turn of Wanda's face to heat up. You continued talking anxiously. "I thought I still had some, but my reservation ran out, and since I'm in the dorm, I wouldn't want to... well, would you have any left? I know it's very short notice but I really need it."

Wanda nodded quickly, equally at a loss for words. You see, if you were any other of her werewolf colleagues, the situation might even be comical. She wasn't like Pietro and didn't make friends very easily, but she shared the same taunting nature. One horny wolf in the store and Wanda would have jokes for the rest of the year. But it was you, her longtime secret crush, emanating a very pleasant scent and in need of something so intimate that Wanda could barely control her own thoughts about what other ways she could help you if there were no other suppressors in the store.

"My mom usually sells everything before the season starts, but I can look in the warehouse to see if we have any leftovers. I'll be right back." She says, smiling softly at your anxious figure.

Wanda has never seen you in heat before; the mating seasons for new wolves begin at the end of puberty, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, and the vast majority of her werewolf classmates at the Institute return to their packs at this time of year, already matched with their partners in the traditions of the lycanthrope. Wanda only knows about the rituals from her father's family, because each clan, from the Vampires to the witches, is very private about it all. Witches like her mother, who specialize in all kinds of products, are the exceptions.

Wanda tries the storeroom next to the counter, but after a few boxes, she snorts in frustration. Her mother really did sell everything, and she almost reprimanded you for not planning properly. For older, mismatched wolves, being without suppressors could be really dangerous. For you, a new werewolf, it would only be quite painful. It was easier for her to feel sorry. 

And while she tried the last few shelves at the back of the storeroom, you grew even more restless outside. Wanda had no idea how intoxicating the essence of a witch, especially a witch one cared about, was. If you hadn't been so desperate, you would have given up going into the store as soon as you could smell her from around the corner, but then again, your brain wasn't working very rationally right now.

And there was also a scarf on the counter, Wanda's most characteristic item since she had received it as a gift so many years ago. Many of the times you've noticed her, she's worn the item around her neck and it made sense that her scent was so strong in the room, even though she was upstairs.

Your limbs moved by instinct, you didn't have to think much, just let yourself be guided by the urge to exhale that distinctive smell more deeply. 

Your face was pressed against the scarf when Wanda reappeared, and her confused giggle made you jump away mortified.

"Are you all right there?" She ventured, receiving a very quick and embarrassed nod. Wanda chuckled again in amazement, and without caring much about your current condition, she approached. "I looked upstairs, but my mother sold everything, sorry. There's something else you might like to try, maybe a calming potion so you can sleep while... well, this happens to you."

You quickly agree, still embarrassed at being caught. Wanda doesn't mind, if anything, she always found it very entertaining how different you were from the other werewolves she knew; loud and confident to the point of being idiotic. Pietro was a prime example. And if it wasn't for your distinctive stature, she could easily have assumed from your shy and careful personality that you were just an ordinary human, perhaps a mermaid from the way you seemed to bewitch Wanda's attention all to yourself.

"I'm sorry." You mutter suddenly, while she is searching for a sleeping potion on the shelf under the counter. Wanda turns her face up in confusion, but you're looking away. "From the scarf, I know it's... weird. But my body seems to be acting on its own. Just forget about it when we get back to school, okay? I'll be normal when it's over."

"Don't worry, I don't mind." She assured meekly, before finally finding some bottles that could help you and taking them back to the counter. She bit her lip at the way you were panting, and the way your trembling fingers pulled some notes and coins out of your pocket. "You can take these two vials today, and this one in the morning if you're still..."

"Horny'?" You joke, and take Wanda by surprise, but she manages to return the short laugh. Your hands push out the money and she turns away to pack the vials into a small bag. "So, one now and two tomorrow."

Wanda quickly denies it. "No, darling, two now and one tomorrow. Are you... are you sure you're all right? You're sweating-"

"Just give me a minute." You interrupt her with a gasp, the sudden wave of heat catching you completely off guard. The room starts to spin, and for a whole moment, all you can feel is your own arousal and the way you want to touch the witch in front of you. Your body gives way, and your hands force down on the counter, disastrously strong enough for the wood to crack. Wanda jumps in fright, worried, but you grunt quietly. "Shit, I'm really sorry-"

She hurries around the counter, and her soft hands make you jump away. "Hey, it's okay, I just want to help you stand up."

But you gasp in despair, wrenching your body away from her. "Don't touch me, Wanda, for God's sake." You grunt, and if you hadn't sounded so affected, Wanda would have taken offense. Instead, she stands ready to catch you if you lose your balance again, and that's exactly what happens. This time, your weight falls forward, and Wanda's body serves as a barrage. 

Your wolfish weight is almost too much for her, and it doesn't help that your face is buried against her collarbone, and your arms embrace her clumsily. "Hm, so soft." She hears you sigh, as she struggles to drag you over to the reading area of the store's bookshelves, where there's a sofa to put you on. When you fall into the cushions, you look up with dreamy eyes and an easy smile playing on your lips. Wanda gasps softly from exhaustion. 

"Wait here a moment, okay? You feel like you're burning up with a fever. I'll get you some water." She explains, but it doesn't seem like you're listening very much, disconcerting her with the way you're looking at you so discourteously, your pupils dilating. Wanda adjusts a strand of hair, self-conscious under your gaze. "I'll be right back."

She practically runs out of there, and alone, realizing her own hands are trembling as she remembers the sensation of having your body against hers. She shakes her head to push the thought away, you were clearly in a vulnerable moment right now, and Wanda doesn't think she'll survive the shame of being rejected once the heat wears off.

When Wanda returns with the water, she almost drops the glass on the floor. You haven't moved, but you've changed position, limp against the sofa, evidently rubbing yourself down the item as you whimper. 

"Oh, detka, let me help you." Wanda abandons the glass on a shelf, and rushes to your side, kneeling beside the sofa. You gasp in embarrassment, trying to escape her gaze, but Wanda's hands grab your warm face. "Let's go upstairs. I'll make it better." She whispers the invitation, but the thought alone is enough for you to grunt in affection and pull her face towards you. 

It's a hungry kiss, and the position doesn't help. Wanda has to grab your shoulders to keep from falling to the floor and ends up breaking into a giggle when a moment later it's you who's throwing yourself at her, desperately kissing her as if she's going to disappear. 

The lightness disappears quickly. She feels very hot and bothered, especially when your tongue slips into hers as if you already knew exactly how to kiss her, and your hands touch her entire body with determination. Her plea for you to slow down turns into a moan when your knee pushes between her legs.

It's almost primitive the way you seem willing to have her right there on the floor, angrily trying to pull her clothes off while your moans mingle. Wanda's face burns and she struggles to match the kiss, losing that battle all too easily when your palms begin to stimulate her nipples. 

She can feel the wetness begin to bother her through the fabric of her panties, and perhaps, you can smell it too, because you grow more impatient, and begin to murmur disconnected compliments into her skin, your hands reaching down to unzip her pants. Wanda chokes between moans, practically whimpering when your fingers find her so ready. 

You enter her, all at once, without a second thought. You suck on her tongue as she squeezes your fingerprints and soaks your hand. It's dirty and rough, and Wanda couldn't hold back even if she tried. Yet the store door opens, and she has to bite down hard on your shoulder to muffle her own noises.

Whoever the customer is, asking if there's anyone there or if the store is open, Wanda makes sure they don't see her. Her eyes are scarlet, and it's never been harder to do a concealment spell than it is now, with your fingers thrusting inside her as if the world around you hardly mattered. Finally, the customer leaves and her magic plays its part in locking the door before Wanda digs her nails into your back and comes against your fingers.

It's not enough - Nothing seems to be. You continue your movements inside her until Wanda is spasming again, begging for a pause. Your hungry mouth finds its way into her most intimate place then, just to tear more pleasure out of her. She loses count of how many times she comes, on your fingers and tongue, until the whole store smells of sex.

Fuck, she has to move you before Pietro comes back.

It's only when you let her breathe, retreating like a wounded wolf, that Wanda notices the puddle of moisture on your pants. You came at the mere act of watching and touching her. 

"Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" She coos gently, propping herself up on one elbow now that you're lying on your back, one arm over your face. Your clothes are as torn as theirs, but there are many more marks on her body than on yours. 

You sniffle quietly, and Wanda looks at you with concern. "Why didn't you stop me?" you ask upset, and Wanda stares in shock for a moment. Then, swallowing dryly, she works up the courage:

"You didn't want this?"

But your reaction is to laugh incredulously. "Of course, I wanted it, Wanda! But I'm talking about you. Why didn't you stop me? You're a witch, you could have knocked me down, look at you! You're all purple, and I... God, I can't believe I... hurt you." 

She climbs into your lap before you can despair, ignoring your soft protest and grabbing your crying face. "I haven't stopped you because I've wanted you to since we met." She assures you determinedly, caressing your cheeks. "I'm in love with you, you idiot."

Sniffling softly, you raise hopeful eyes. "Really?"

Wanda smiles, her weight against your chest. "Really." She assures you. "And don't worry about the marks, I... like it rough."

You groan in embarrassment, looking away and amusing her. There's a moment's pause, and then finally: "I like you too."

Wanda bites back a smile. "I got that impression, you know? When you were all whiny on me." 

Your laugh is sincere and shy, and Wanda kisses you as your hands grip her thighs. But before she can deepen it the way she'd like, you break again.

"Thanks for helping with the heat... but I'll take you on a date after this. I promise."

She pulls on your bottom lip with a provocative bite. "I'll charge." She assures you in a naughty whisper, and you sigh contentedly as she presses your hips together. Smooth movements, and you're already seeing stars again. 

Your breathing becomes shorter, and Wanda traces her fingers along your jaw, while her other hand moves down. "I bet you're all warm and tight."

You sigh, closing your eyes and nodding in agreement. Wanda kisses you leisurely, also taking time to slide her fingers into your pants and assess the effects of everything so far. She's not surprised by the immense wetness, but the sensation of sinking into you is overwhelming. She can feel ready for another when she starts to stimulate you and watches you squirm beneath her.

"So good... don't stop..." You moan helplessly, and the grip on her thighs is almost strong enough to hurt. Wanda makes a mental note of how to make you lose control of your strength, before curling her fingers inside you and being rewarded with the sweetest sounds in the world. "W-Wanda!"

She decides she likes it very, very much when you whimper her name like that. She continues her motions a few more times until you come hard on her fingers. Wanda thrusts a few times, before removing them and bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean while you try to catch a breath. 

Your murmurs are labored, and Wanda kisses your cheek a few times. "Come on upstairs, sweet baby, I'll take care of you." She tries to get up, but your hands steady her on your lap.

It's almost ridiculous how easily you lift the two of you, and Wanda has to hold onto your shoulders, chuckling softly at your uncertain stumbles on the way upstairs. 

She'll have time to look after the store when you fall asleep. Right now, she's more focused on kissing you again.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (31) - Little Fighter

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count 3.9k

-Shine again, little fighter and don’t let 'em end the things you do-

Tara sat alone in your bed, reading a book at three in the morning. Another business trip made you take a trip to Europe this time, ten days ago in fact. You only started accepting these longer trips after Zack and Susan turned twelve. Now that they were fourteen it was easier for them to take the separation. It still happened rarely, once every four to five months, when it was absolutely necessary. She glanced at her phone, seeing a message from you and the notification of movement from the cameras around the house and she smiled. Just as she read the message, she heard the footsteps in the hall and grinned.

The doors opened slowly, gently so you wouldn’t wake her up as you stepped in, still wearing your suit and with the suitcase in your hand. “Hey,” you smiled when you realized she was awake and Tara got up, meeting you in the middle of your bedroom. You lowered the suitcase and lifted her up, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Tara ran her fingers through your hair, missing the feeling of being in your arms as you lifted her up, moaning slightly as she nibbled on your lower lip. “I missed you so much,” you whispered, kissing her once more, desperate, just as in need of her touch as she was of yours.

“I missed you too,” Tara said as you slowly lowered her back down, though you kept hugging her.

“Sorry about the delay,” you took several deep breaths, basking in her presence.

Tara hummed. Ten days truly was too much. “You can’t control the planes, Baby,” she teased you, even if it made you come back home at three in the morning instead of seven hours earlier.

You nuzzled against her neck and then reluctantly pulled back. “Well, how about we make the twins go to bed now?” you smirked and Tara facepalmed. They were entering a bit of a rebellious phase, nothing too drastic yet, but she could see the hints of what was to come.

“Lights are still on?” she asked and you nodded. Well, at least it was Friday night, but it would be a pain in the ass to wake them up in the morning.

Hand in hand you went over to Zack’s room and knocked, barely stifling a laugh when you heard panicked attempts to cover up the fact that the kids were, in fact, not in their beds. The moment lights got turned off you waited for five seconds and opened the doors. Zack was pretending to sleep in his bed, sprawled on it like he just jumped in, his blanket underneath him and pillow far from the head. Susan was curled up on his sofa, at least she had the time to toss a blanket over herself.

You faked a cough and that changed everything as the kids turned to look at you and jumped up. “Mom! You’re back!” they ran into your arms and though it was a bit of a struggle, you managed to lift both of them up. But even if it was a struggle, it truly spoke of your determination to stay strong and in great shape, since you managed to lift roughly 250 pounds.

You kissed their cheeks and lowered them back down. Fourteen and they were still your babies, even if they were now taller than Tara, well, Susan was only an inch taller and Zack was about two and a half inches taller than Tara. Regardless, your babies and Tara felt like her heart was melting each time she watched the three of you together. “Night owls, hm?” you grinned teasingly.

“Sorry,” Zack and Susan chuckled sheepishly.

“We’ll get up early! We promise! We just want to finish the movie!” Susan pointed at the TV and Zack turned it back on, showing they were about halfway through the movie.

“Hm?” you saw trailers for the movie they were watching, the second part of the newest Spider-Man trilogy, The Spectacular Spider-Man 2: Kraven’s Return. “Is it any good?” you asked, Tara skipped out on doing a review on it, superhero movies weren’t exactly her thing. She watched them with you and the twins, but mostly because Zack liked them, and Susan found the action interesting. She could skip out on this one, since they were already half-way through it.

Zack shrugged. “The first was better.”

“Action is good though!” Susan commented, she was really getting into animation, so she liked looking at action scenes to get a better sense of how bodies moved.

You looked at Tara and shrugged, the grins on the twins’ faces grew larger as they knew exactly what that meant.

Tara sighed and smiled at them. “You’ll be up by nine and help us make pancakes,” she decided, they would just sneak back in and continue watching anyway.

“Thanks, mom!” they both went and hugged her, nearly toppling her over, but Tara just laughed. Being a bit too easy on them was worth the happiness on their faces.

They jumped back onto the sofa and you and Tara gave them good night kisses and left them to watch their movie.

For a moment Tara thought back to when the two of you were around their age and you’d sleep over. You sometimes did the same thing, watching movies into the late hours of the night, only neither of you had parents to tell you not to, or do anything really.

“I’ll just go take a quick shower,” you gave her a quick peck as you went back to your room, and you grabbed some clean comfortable clothes.

Tara nodded, though she grabbed your hand and pulled you back into another quick kiss, smiling when she you pulled her in so her body pressed against yours. “Or maybe you’d like to join me?” you offered, and she grinned, very much in favor of that idea.

Safe to say, the pancakes weren’t made at nine in the morning. More like several hours later as all four of you slept in.

~X~

The next weekend you were in your basement gym, just cleaning the equipment. Zack and Susan were playing with two kids from their class, Alphonse and Emma. Good kids, you’ve known them since they started actively hanging out with Zack and Susan.

A timid knock on the side of the garage doors made you look to the side. It was Alphonse, a rather timid, though already fairly tall for his age, blond boy, a couple of months younger than your kids. “Hey, Alphonse, come on in,” you ushered him in, and he quickly nodded, keeping his gaze down as he came inside, hands pressed together and his posture as timid as usual. You heard from Tara he was like that with her as well.

“I, uh, Susan told me to tell you to, I mean to ask you if you could come and take a look at my bicycle tire?” he asked and you nodded, setting aside the rug and walking over to a cabinet where you kept you tools, including the ones necessary to fix a flat tire. It was kinda funny how many skills you picked up since Zack and Susan were born, fixing things around the house, toys and everything else they played with included, were just one of the skills gained over the years.

“Of course,” you still didn’t decide if the kid was just awkward or if there was something else going on, and Zack and Susan weren’t saying anything.

“Thanks Mrs. L/N,” he gave you a tiny smile and followed you outside. Zack wasn’t with the girls, he was probably inside helping Tara with the snacks. Emma was a brunette, about as tall as Zack, she wore glasses, and was definitely more confident than Alphonse, she kinda reminded you of Mindy at times.

“You did it!” she exclaimed and you glanced back to see Alphonse blushing.

“Al did what?” you heard Zack asking as he and Tara came outside with cold lemonade and two bowls of snacks.

“Asked mom for help,” Susan shrugged, and you noticed she looked a bit apologetically at her twin.

“Dude,” Zack scoffed at Susan before turning to the side. “Leave him alone, Emma,” he sat down on the grass next to Alphonse and handed him a glass and filled it up.

You and Tara exchanged glances. “Something we should know kids?” you asked as you took the tire off, it was completely flat, and if you were honest the bicycle wasn’t looking like it was in the safest condition. It looked like hitting the brakes a bit harder, or even taking a sharper turn might lead to an accident.

“Nothing, mom,” Zack sounded a bit harsher than you or Tara were used from him and you raised an eyebrow, especially when Alphonse flinched while looking at you and Tara, as if expecting some kind of reaction.

Your eyes softened at that. It was somewhat of a familiar image.

“We’re here to talk if you need to,” Tara picked up on it as well.

“Speaking of needs. Alphonse, do you mind if I fix your bicycle a bit more? You might fall if you’re not careful,” you said and from the way he bit his lips you figured he knew the bicycle wasn’t in the best condition.

“There’s no need, ma’am,” he still refused.

“Al,” Zack tried to be subtle about it as he shoved him slightly. Well, as subtle as a fourteen-year-old could be. “Can we fix it, mom?” he turned to you, hopeful and you nodded, sitting down and getting to work, tightening the loose bits and changing both tires.

“Want a lemonade?” Tara leaned over you as you worked.

“If you’ll help me drink it,” you grinned tilting your head toward your dirty hands.

Tara rolled her eyes at that and poured you a glass. “Here you go,” she crouched down next to you and brought the glass to your lips.

“Thanks, Love,” you began drinking, enjoying the perfect lemonade Tara made, just cold and sweet enough.

“Tara, could I stay an hour longer, my parents just texted me saying they might be late to pick me up,” Emma requested, distracting Tara as she tilted the glass.

“Of course, Emma, stay as long as you want,” she said, but then her left hand cramped all of a sudden and the last quarter of the glass hit you faster than you could react, dripping down your chin and neck. “Shit!” she quickly wiped the lemonade off your face, but you just kissed the tip of her finger.

“Language,” you teased her and wiped your hands on your shirt before taking hold of her left hand and warming it up while handing the glass over to Susan. “You okay?” you asked her softly.

“Yeah, just the weather,” it was getting a bit chilly. “Thanks, Baby,” Tara smiled and placed her right hand on top of your own. “Guess we both need to wash our hands now,” she giggled and you just shrugged.

“Is it that scar? Can I ask how you got it?” Emma asked causing you to frown.

“No, you can’t,” fifteen years since the last time you faced Ghostface and it was still a sore topic. It would forever be like that, hell, you still didn’t sit Zack and Susan down to tell them exactly what happened.

~X~

Later that night you knocked on Zack’s door. “Come in!” he exclaimed and you went inside, finding him over his physics book, reading about things that were slowly but surely getting too complicated for you. You tried to keep up, both you and Tara did, you showed interest in Zack and Susan’s passions, be it science or art, but despite your efforts they were soaking in knowledge at the pace you just couldn’t follow with all the other things you needed to do.

“Having fun?” you sat down on the sofa close to him and looked around the room. Your son was a bit of a nerd. Over the past few years, he focused more on studying and most of his physical activity came from playing, unlike years back when he would train by your side. His room was filled with books, physics, math, and science fiction. He had some comics, mostly focused on heroes that relied on tech, rather than usual superpowers.

“Yeah!” he grinned just like you did, he looked like someone actually went and combined your and Tara’s DNA. Picking up on habits and your body language while looking almost exactly like Tara when she was his age, only taller, not by much though. As far as appearance went, Susan looked even more like Tara, especially when she let her bangs fall over her forehead. “Oh, yeah,” he hopped to his feet and rushed for his phone. He opened a bookstore page and showed you what looked like a new physics book that came with an experiment kit. “Can we get this? I’ll have enough with this month’s allowance,” he had this hopeful look in his eyes.

“We’ll get it, no allowance money needed,” you ruffled his hair a bit. “Allowance money is for you to be able to have fun, save up all you want, but if it’s for your education or something you’re passionate about, that’s on us as your parents,” you told him, and he hugged you tightly.

“It’s a bit pricey,” he pointed out, and well, it was a bit overpriced, but at the end of the day you didn’t need to worry about it.

“Just don’t blow the house up with that mighty experiment kit,” you joked, and he laughed.

“Thanks mom!” Zack exclaimed.

“Now, I kinda came here for a reason,” you said as he sat down next to you and crossed his legs on the sofa.

The grin on his face faded a bit. “About Al, right?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Zack, if something is going on at his home, or at school and his parents don’t know, it’s better to act now, than to wait for things to escalate,” you told him softly. “You are all still kids, okay? You don’t need to carry all the burdens now.”

Zack nodded. “Al is… well, you noticed he is really timid around you or mom, right?” you nodded, letting him continue. “His parents, let’s just say they aren’t you and mom. They argue a lot, and some guy is bullying him, but he won’t tell me any details, it’s not at school, it’s in his neighborhood,” he explained leaning closer to you a lot like Tara would when she needed comfort.

“Well, bully aside, since we don’t know much, we can’t be direct with his parents,” you told him as you pulled him into a one-armed hug.

“Why?” he immediately pulled away, the defiant look flaring in his eyes.

 “I know from experience. You know Tara’s mother used to drink, right?” they weren’t completely oblivious to your and Tara’s past, they knew both you and Tara had bad childhoods, just not all the details.

Zack nodded, now looking a bit puzzled.

“Well, I tried to confront her about it, let’s just say it took a lot of expensive apologizing and even then, I couldn’t go and see Tara for a month,” that was downright the most expensive bottle of any alcohol you ever bought, and only then did that damn woman let you back into her house. And it was summer vacation, and she grounded Tara, and after she threatened to call the police on you if she saw you anywhere near the house Tara absolutely refused to even consider letting you sneak in. “Some parents are tricky to deal with unless you want to involve authorities, and even then, with the way the system works things might end up worse for Alphonse.”

“What can we do then?” Zack asked and leaned back into your side.

“For starters invite them over for dinner. I don’t know a lot of people that would say no to a free meal. Maybe we can figure what the issues are and find a solution then,” you leaned your head back.

“How can I help him?” Zack whispered almost too quietly for you to hear him.

“You stand by his side. Like me and Tara did for one another, no one can expect more from either of you. You’ll have Tara and me to help you along the way,” you assured him.

Zack remained silent, contemplating whether he should say something, and you just waited patiently for your son to come to a conclusion. “There is one more thing, Al saw you practicing martial arts a few times. He is actually interested in learning, but he is afraid to ask you,” he eventually told you.

“And you don’t think he’ll accept if I just invite him to train with me?” you asked, making Zack nod. “And if you asked him to keep you company? Tell him you’d like to learn the basics, and then you can quit when he grows more comfortable around me,” you suggested and watched as Zack’s face lit up.

“Mom you are brilliant!” he jumped to his feet, phone in hand and you watched as he called Alphonse, the grin on his face lighting the entire room up.

You stepped outside, giving him thumbs up as he waited for Alphonse to pick up.

~X~

While you were talking to Zack, Tara was washing the dishes after dinner. She glanced at her left hand, at the scar covered in soap. She could just load everything in the dishwasher, but with age she found chores to be relaxing. Not that she needed relaxing, you made sure of that. But sometimes it was nice to just stay busy.

As she hummed the lyrics of the newest song she liked, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, light, so Susan. Yours were heavier after years of not having to worry about someone coming after you and Zack had a bit more bounce to his steps than Susan.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Tara turned to her daughter as the girl came up to her and just hugged her. “Feeling cuddly?” Tara wiped her hands clean and turned around to hug Susan.

“Yeah, a bit,” Susan had that habit, she would just randomly come up to you, Zack or Tara and pretty much demand a hug. Tara loved it, you loved it, and Zack at least liked it, though Tara was sure he loved it as well. They grew up watching you and Tara be very affectionate with one another, as well as with them, so she wasn’t surprised both of your children ended up preferring touch over other love languages. “Mom?”

“Yes?” Tara could feel the tension in Susan’s shoulders, and it worried her.

“Zack is hiding something, I can feel it,” Susan told her, and Tara resisted the urge to sigh.

“Don’t worry about it, your mom and I will handle it,” she pulled back, caressing Susan’s right cheek gently. “Okay? You just keep doing what you’re doing,” Susan nodded at that, the tension slowly fading away as Tara rubbed circles in her back.

Tara noticed it before. And she was worried, as she naturally should be, but you reassured her. Both of your children knew they could turn to either of you at any time. Sure, Zack was more likely to turn to you and Susan was more likely to turn to Tara, but it wasn’t like Zack didn’t turn to Tara as well, or that Susan didn’t turn to you. So, you believed in them, you believed they would eventually talk to you, and sooner rather than later. They’d either talk to you first, or you’d figure out the issue on your own. And Tara was sure you figured out what was bothering Zack after what happened today. Tara was fairly certain it was about Alphonse, and you came to the same conclusion, so she just hoped you’d be able to get Zack to open up.

“Let me help you,” Susan grinned a bit, relieved that things would turn out fine. And before Tara could protest, she took a cloth and began wiping the washed dishes.

“Okay, okay, did you draw anything interesting today?” Tara asked as she went back to washing dishes.

Susan nodded enthusiastically. “I designed this large castle ruins!” she raised her hands, as if to show how big the ruins were. “I’m going to animate a dragon landing on top of them,” she spoke excitedly, and Tara felt her pride soaring. Her children found their passions, they were happy, they were growing so fast.

~X~

You came down the stairs to Tara and Susan singing and dancing in front of the sink. Tara pretended like the glass was a microphone and Susan twirled the rug above her head while. With a mischievous smirk you sent a message to Zack and began filming the two ladies. A few minutes later Tara and Susan were still in their own world and Zack silently came down and had to stifle a laugh as Susan began pointing from left to right and then swiped two fingers in front of her eyes. All the while, Tara shuffled her shoulders lowering the tone of her singing only to then take a deep breath and sing a few octaves higher than she usually spoke.

And that’s when Zack lost it, clutching at his stomach as he laughed wholeheartedly and you had the front row seats to Tara and Susan realizing you and Zack were there and freezing, the tips of their ears turning bright red.

Tara faked a cough as you went over to her and hugged her from behind. “Sing, my Love,” you kissed the side of her head and then turned to Susan. You patted her on the shoulder and shrugged, no harm done, it was just you and Zack. “Frankly, you were both adorable,” you told them.

“Let’s dance!” Zack exclaimed, turning the music on and doing even sillier moves than Susan and Tara did with a large grin on his face.

Susan shook her head. “Whatever, dork,” she joined him.

You looked at Tara and smiled, offering her a reassuring nod. Things would be fine, they wouldn’t be easy, but they would be fine. And she nodded, relief filling her eyes. You’d tell her everything later tonight, when you go to bed, for now the two of you turned around so your backs weren’t turned to Zack and Susan and just swayed to the music, watching your children having fun. She reached up, the tips of her fingers tracing along your jawline before sliding up to the back of your head and pulling you down for a kiss. Her soft lips drove you mad, and you pulled her a bit closer and closed your eyes.

The laughter, the love between the four of you, it felt like nothing could ever put even the tiniest dent on it all.

You thought dealing with bad parents would be the worst problem you would have to deal with. You had no idea that slowly but surely the pieces were falling into place and that a few years from now you’d have to face the same old nightmare, this time coming after your children.

History repeating itself wasn’t supposed to be so literal.

A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back to this story.🤣🤣 Damn, I felt so happy writing this. Anyway, I am in need of some names, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to tell me. 😁😁

Taglist: @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers (you didn't quite request to be on taglist, but I figured since you singlehandedly made me consider continuing Lost, I figured why not 🤣🤣 I can remove you if you want me to)

[brummiereader]

No Son Of Mine (One Shot)

Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?

Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff

Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!

"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.

" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.

" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.

" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.

" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.

" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.

" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.

" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.

"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.

"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.

"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.

" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.

" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.

" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.

" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.

" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.

"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.

" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.

" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.

" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"

It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.

" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.

" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."

" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.

" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.

" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.

" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.

" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.

" He'll be no son of mine"

Six years later...

" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.

" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.

" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.

" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.

" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.

" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.

" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"

" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"

" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.

" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.

" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.

" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.

" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.

"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.

" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?

" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?

"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.

" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.

"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for the worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.

" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.

Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.

" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?

" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.

" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?

" You said boys..."

" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.

" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.

" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you, right? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.

" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.

" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."

[dooralight]

The demons have passed, and the king is naked(Erase everything you've known about me until today)

It's been two days, three hours and 27 minutes since damian went missing.

It's been an hour since Jason found him.

Usually, Jason didn't care much about the brat; he could take care of himself, after all. Like Jason, Damian was trained by the league, and knew 102 ways to kill a man thrice his size but he hates killing, and felt the need to remind the elder of that at least once a week. Plus, Jason had very few reasons to care for his so-called 'family', as dick insists to call their weird, creepy, sad bat-cult. And damian was definitely not one of them.

While the two were technically brothers, the role of robin was the only thing they had in common. Jason was raised in poverty, barely surviving the cold nights of gotham, and was forced to steal and run. Jason had nothing but a mother who wrapped her bony body around him at cold nights until she didn't. Damian, on the other hand, lived a life of luxury. The league's prince, the al ghul's pride and joy. Damian was raised in a cult full of murderers, barely surviving the brutal training he was forced to endure, forced to either kill or be killed. And Sometimes he was killed. damian had everything except for sympathy. And for those differences, Jason couldn't ever connect with the kid. That, and because damian was an absolute displeasure to be around.

So when he got a frantic call from Dick, claiming damian went missing, Jason honestly didn't care all that much. ''maybe the demon spawn doesn't want to be found.'' He told the oldest of Bruce's child soldiers children, not even removing his eyes from the gun barrel he was cleaning. "what?'' dick's disdisbelieving voice uttered from the other side of the call. "how can you say that?" Jason rolled his eyes and got up to get cleaner rug from the kitchen. ''you heard me. Kid's does that all the time. Disappears for a while, then comes back from the pits of hell just to torment us.''

"don't talk about your brother like that.'' Dick scolded, and gosh, he sounded like such a mom. ''besides, he never disappeared like that before. he always leaves a note or something.'' 'he always lets me know' was left unsaid. Honestly, gross. ''I don't know what to tell you, dickie. Maybe the kid felt like he was too old to let his wannabe daddy sigh his permission slip-'' a beep announced that the call has ended before he got the chance to finish his sentence. 

He found damian by accident.

Stephanie informed him of a case that cannot tolerate delays. ''a bunch of magic users are trying to summon a demon in the forest near gotham.'' She told him, a deep frown settled on her chin. She looked unusually troubled. "do we know why?'' he asked. That was too vague, even for brown. Batgirl only seemed to grow more upset by his question. "from the intel Constantine gave me, they're trying to create a new world from 'the ruins' of this one.'' She tried to mimick the man's British accent, but it ended up sounding more like Alfred. "and why exactly do you need me? I may be friends with an amazon, but I don't know all that much about magic, kid.''

Stephanie straightened her posture from being bent over the bat-computer and started heading towards the bat-mobile with her fists clenched at her sides. ''I need your…brute force. Either knock some sense into them,'' batgirl's too-calm voice echoed through the cave, ''or knock them out.''

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

And that's how he found damian, standing behind a large, relatively flat boulder in the middle of a forest, surrounded by various animals, holding his katana in a threatening pose. ''your footsteps were too heavy, and I could hear the sound of Autumn leaves crunching under your feet from a mile ago. Were you not aware you're in a forest, Todd?" the little brat criticized distastefully, though he drew the weapon away and lowered himself into the ground. Jason scoffed. "yeah, whatever. Mind telling me what am I seeing?"

because the view in front of him probably got into the list of 'top 10 weirdest things red hood has seen this month', which meant something. In front of him, damian, in his 4'5 glory, was sitting calmly, drinking tea from one of alfred's favorite sets of cups, and he wasn't the only one; batman's blood son was surrounded by a raccoon, two deers, titus & Alfred the cat, and a fricking bear, all of them having their own cups. ''why do you care?" damian spat. Titus let out a growl. The dirty looking racoon stuffed his face into his cup of tea. ''I don't want to take the blame when B and dickie finds out their little baby got torn apart by a bear.'' Jason returned with the same amount of venom.

He regretted separating from Stephanie. She's one of the only people on the planet who has mastered the ability to deal with damian's attitude. ''I am not a baby. And besides, American black bears are the friendliest breed of bears." Damian scowled for a brief moment, then let a small smirk crawl into his features. "though, I wouldn't expect you to know that."

''you little—oh, whatever. Good luck with your bear.'' Jason turned to leave, then remembered the reason he came in the first place. "by the way, have you seen any magic users around here?'' Damian paused from petting one of the deers. "magic users?" Jason nodded. "yeah. Batgirl reported seeing them yesterday. You didn't happen to see anything?" Damian stared at him. "brown was keeping me company yesterday. There is no way she noticed something that I didn't." Jason's brain short-circuited.

"She was with you? yesterday?" And she didn't tell Bruce anything? Well, he could actually understand that. But why didn't she at least tell dick? Damian scoffed. "Are you deaf as well as foolish?" Jason's fingers twitched around his tranquiller, his vision filling with a too-familiar-green.

'Knock sense into them, or knock them out'. So, Steph led Jason to the little punk on purpose. She couldn't possibly expect him to talk damian into coming back, could she? She was smart enough to know he was the less suitable bat for the job. Did she expect him to get him home forcefully? Hm. He supposed could do her a favor. He might even enjoy it.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He asked and sat himself between damian and the bear , making himself a barrier between the two. "Why do you care?" The tiny satan demanded yet again. There was a certain spark in his eyes jason could tell he was trying, and failing, to hide. Jason shrugged. "Just curious." And he wasn't lying; Damian has run away before to fight villains, mercenaries, and sometimes even heroes behind their backs. But this? Going missing without telling anybody just to... hang with a bunch of animals? Jason didn't get it.

At his answer, the spark in damian's green eyes died. "Go away, Todd." He sneered with hunched shoulders. "Listen here Junior-"

"Go away!" Damian suddenly lashed out, standing with his fists clenched in front of his body, preparing for a fight. "You weren't invited here! You're ruining everything!" Jason remained sitting, though his hand tightened around his belt. He's missing something. Damian was going through some crisis for a reason he didn't know, and Stephanie, damn her, was nowhere to be found.

"Just tell me what's happening, damian." He said cooly.

Damian eyes, damian's sparkless, tired eyes locked with his. For a reason jason didn't know, the younger listened. "Will you leave if I told you?" He whispered defeatedly. "Sure," Jason decided to entertain him, but his hand didn't leave his tranq'.

Damian looked down with an unusual shyness, his foot shuffling against the forest's ground, before he looked up.

"They're my new brothers and sisters." He stated with renewed confidence, and smiled a little when the bear let an unholy screech.

"Your- what?" Jason expected a lot of things, but certainly not that. Definitely not that. Damian didn't seem how understand how strange the situation was. He repeated, like it was obvious. Like it was normal.

"They're my new family."

'But they're a bunch of brainless animals' Jason thought. Out loud, though, he chose to ask: "why do you need another family?"

Damian's long, thick lashes hid his eyes as he tilted his head down, locking eyes with titus as if silently asking for advice. "I… do not belong in father's family. I never did, and i never will. I understood it, and it's only a matter until they- until you realize that too." damian informed blankly.

What? Damian 'the batman's only blood son' Wayne thought Jason, the failed robin, fitted in the family more than him? Jason bit back a shocked laugh. "Kid, they're looking for you right now. They're worried sick-"

"They're afraid. Afraid I'll go on a killing spree now that I have no supervision." he dismissed bitterly, then his head snapped up with a glare. "I wouldn't. Tell them I wouldn't."

'Like they'll believe me'

"...Why did you come here of all places?" Jason asked and tensed when the bear roared loudly. "Do you want a refill, Stephanie?" the boy completely ignored Jason's question and got up with a teapot, circled the boulder to get to the bear- to "Stephanie", apparently- and gracefully poured the warm liquid into his cup. The bear roared again, and this time damian took it as Stephanie being happy and returned to his seat.

Only after he settled down he bothered to answer Jason's question. "…All people know to do is to judge. they decide for you whether you're good enough, kind enough, or if your cruel enough, skilled enough, brutal enough- " the moment he started, damian couldn't seem to know how to stop, "and do you know why that's the problem, Todd? let me spill light on the ugly truth; You will never be good enough for them. For any of them. Because they're people. and all people know is to judge. It doesn't matter how much you will train, or how much blood will you spill -yours or others- or how many people will you've maimed, or how many people you saved- you will keep running and running and running, until your legs give out and you won't be able to breath and you will still. Never. Be. At. They're. Pace."

Damian's scarred fingers- why were they so scarred? - patted alfred's fur distractedly, his eyes burning holes into Jason. "Because they are saints. And you, Todd, are not." And as true as it was, Jason got the feeling damian wasn't talking about him.

"Damian-" Jason's voice cracked as he stared back at His brother. At his kid brother. Because damian was just a little kid. How could Jason, who called himself Gotham's children protector, not protect his little brother from the pain he knew all to well? How could he- how could they all not notice the kid in their house was suffering? How could they let him think his worth was only judged by his actions as robin?

"Animals don't judge, todd. They're just... animals."

'Because it was'

"Damian," jason spoke. The other failed robin peeked curiously at him. "can… can they be my brothers and sisters too? I kinda need a family too." He hoped damian would understand what was he really saying. 'Let me into your new family. Let me into your heart. Give me another chance to be a brother to you. Let me save you from becoming me.' Because as much as damian needed him to, Jason couldn't get himself to say all of that out loud. In some ways, he guessed he wasn't all that different from their old man.

Damian eyes narrowed, then widened almost comically. His fingers fidgeted and his breath hitched.

"Only...uh, only if they say it's ok." Damian stuttered and leaned to put his ear near one of the deers' mouth. Jason held his breath as the deer licked damian's cheek, and watched damian scrunch his nose and wipe it discreetly.

"they allow it.'' damian announced boredly, but jason didn't miss the return of that spark to his shining eyes. "but don't you dare tell any of the others about it."

jason, despite himself, chuckled. "not even tim?"

damian's nosetrills flared. "especially not drake."

mabye they weren't so different after all.

"I'm back!" A cheery voice called from the behind the trees. Oh, so now stephanie bothered to find them.  

"I see the stealth training I gave you finally started to get into your head." damian told her.

"oh, please. if anyone trained me, it was cass." steph rolled her eyes and set a plastic bag on the surface of the boulder. "here, i brought more supplies to your little tea party."

"it is not a tea party! what do you think of me? a mere child?" 

"yes." steph and jason responded at the same time, and locked eyes as damian scoffed, offended.

"knock some sense into them, huh?" jason lifted his brows. stephanie smirked.

"or knock them out. i gave you two options.'' she shrugged innocetly.

"why me?" jason asked her.

"why you what? what are you two talking about?" damian demanded. steph looked them both over, then sighed.

"we... the three of us, 'the dead robins'," the failure robins, jason translated easily. "need to stick together. have each others backs, y'know?"

"i agree." surpisingly enough, damian was the one who said it. "we will never be a match for dick grayson, or cassandra cain. it wouldn't do any of us any good to stand alone in their shadows."

wow. the kid was full of surprises, wasn't he? "I don't know, kid. i think you're on the way to get there." jason then procceded to wrestle his baby brother into a mendatory head ruffle, to which damian tried to bite his way out of. 

"okay, enough with the emotional talk. damian, you're going back to the manor today. we'll figure out a lie about where you've been later." damian tried to protest, but was distracted by knuckles dugging harshly into his skull. "now, how is stephanie the deer?" she cood.

"the deers' names are gilbert and mr. alexander." damian deadpanned, finally free from his ridiculous big brother.

"wait, what? then who's stephanie?" she questioned. jason tilted his head towards the bear, who was napping now. he will have to ask damian later how did he manage to tame a wild bear, but for now he'll just lean back and enjoy the show while alfred the cat cuddled close to him.

"you named a bear after me?!' the former spoiler shouted, outraged.

"it seemed fitting, fatgirl." 

"why, you little--"

[cialovesklopp]

𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 | k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — where a talented singer climbs back to the top of the music industry while also managing her newly couple life that is going very strong

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 8.1k 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — hrs & hrs [muni long]

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — the revenge era can officially begin and amara can be sure to count on kylian. i apologize for the delay, i had a very busy week and words weren’t wording. also thank you to my lovely angel @lorarri for giving me all this inspiriation and also thank you to @aechii

taglist: @lorarri @locedes @aechii

masterlist

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani thank u, next officially out — very happy that i got to work with this gorgeous queen on my first song after the hiatus @arianagrande we did good 💋

view all 167.423 comments

arianagrande we were fab 💋

liyah.clark that song is so GENUIS, on repeat the entire day, you two slayeddd

honeymoon_avenue why did this song make me rethink my sexuality

amara.e.imani1 it certainly proved that amara imani and ariana grande are two gorgeous women

stanamara_imani bi-panic immediately

graceywood all those late phone calles def paid off, the song is amazing, already breaking records

username MY NEW FAVORITE SONG

username it def gave Evan a taste of his own medicine

username FR, Amara and Ariana really roasted him

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani “look at you, boy i invented you” — in my head OUT NOW, the second of many coming

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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

she was truly back. days, weeks, months had gone into this, had prepared her for this day and yet it felt even more special than she had ever anticipated. she had put everything into it, her time, her energy, her motivation— amara doesn’t think she would have survived if it had failed. the photo dump she had posted had announced her return but it were the publifications of thank u, next and in my head that had truly officialised her return to the music industry, — her comeback to the top.

especially thank u, next was one of her faves. the passive agressive but easy message towards her ex had truly given her the closure she needed before sue could continue. the finishing to their story that had taken so many ups and downs. their relationship had been a short high, a period of her life but one, that was over now — the message she tried to transfer through the song. she was genuinely thankful for evan, for showing her what love should NOT be like and for paving the way for kylian. who knows how long she would have stayed in that toxic environment if he hadn’t cheated on her?

was it smart to publicly shame evan and give misogynistic music critics the confirmation that she was just a copy of the likes of taylor swift and beyoncé? maybe not. but was she still proud she had done it? hell yeah.

deep down, she knew that the reason she had written the song was to shut up every newsletter and gossip magazine that claimed she was still crying over him, that their relationship was the only thing she was worth. she had matured a lot over the time, had let her feelings out and written them down before she had gotten the idea. why should she act like the mature woman who had to find five ways to euphemism the way he treated her when it should be him, who could just act mature the moment she would release the song? accept the fact that he hadn’t been the nicest to her and claim the criticism?

it were officially two days that had passed since she had released “thank u, next” and to be honest, amara was still buzzing. people could try to hide it but the song was genuis. everything that had been poured into it was a success. and she could never be thankful enough to ariana grande for accepting to be featured on the song. she remembered grace’s struggle to find a co-singer for her song, knowing that amara’s reputation had not been the best. and yet, she had one afternoon received ariana’s call, asking if she still needed a person and that she would be happy to feature on it. even though she had been shocked at the sudden call, a part of her suspected that kylian somehow had wriggled his way in. especially because the next day, she had gotten a long call from grace, telling her to keep kylian and all of sudden, she found kylian’s name in ariana’s followern (but she would never admit that she was stalking him sometimes).

in my head though was a complete different story. in all her career she had never doubted a song like this, never gotten anxious over it. perhaps, all the bad memories that were connected with every verse she wrote, brought it all back up again. or she still feared the failure she would maybe receive because everyone still held her for a bitch after evan’s interview. either way, the process of “in my head” was not one she would like to recreate.

but kylian had been there for her. every line that had brought her down, he had been there (whether live or onscreen) to cheer her up, to remind her that those times were over and she would never have to endure things like that again. maybe, he couldn’t promise her that she would never experience pain again but he had made the promise to himself that she would never ever find herself in the position, capable of writing a song like in my head. he had listened to her when she complained why it felt so hard for her to write, why she couldn’t find the words to describe what had happened. amara’s goal had been for in my head to be last song she would ever write about Evan again. the final page of the evan chapter before she would finally (and specifically for the press) move on from him.

she’d probably never admit it but all the shade thrown at evan felt good. two different people and yet the same intentions. he went on tv to throw her under the bus, she wrote songs about him, giving people the own right to analyse how much of an asshole he actually was. especially because there so many different interpretations of it but all had one common point — evan henderson was an asshole.

the good thing though was that, now that she finished with evan, she could finally focus on kylian. show him truly how much she loved him. he was her only thought now.

even when she celebrated her success, her thoughts were still on kylian. the air was filled with excitement as they celebrated the immense success of amara’s latest songs. both had claimed the charts rapidly, breaking records by being listened to over a billion times already. it brought a smile to her face, illuminating and radiant at the fact that she found her passion for music again, the sparkle that had been lit again.

it wasn’t exactly the tidiest space, with all the note sheets and song papers thrown around but they still found some space to put a bottle of wine to celebrate. she served herself another glass, still feeling the euphoria of her success and what better way to celebrate it, than with alcohol?

“so now you’re drinking without me?” someone whispered in her ear, making amara jump up out of shock as she hadn’t even seen anyone enter the place, except herself, grace and hudson. she hadn’t even gotten time to think about who it was when her eyes were suddenly covered by a pair of big hands but she recognized immediately who it was. only one person had that smell. “guess who it is?”

“let me guess, neymar?”

he chuckled mischievously, his breath warm against her ear. “essaie encore.” — try again

she pretended to think for a moment, biting her lip to add to her expression. “oh my god, it’s erling haaland. i feel so honored.”

the light nudge he gave her, made a laugh escape from her lips as she continued to play with kylian’s nerves. “last try,” the french striker warned.

“fine, fine, i know it’s you ky,” she replied, removing his hands from her eyes and turning around as she looked into his eyes.

he grinned at her, clutching his chest dramatically. “nice to know you didn’t forget me,” he replied, grinning widely at her. he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “congratulations for the two songs. i’ve been playing them on repeat.”

“merci beaucoup,” she exclaimed, deepening their hug as she hid in his neck. “i can’t believe you’re here.” she mumbled under her breath, inhaling the so-familiar scent of his.

“i was invited as special guest,” he pointed at grace, who sent a sly look towards the couple before turning away again and continuing her conversation with hudson. “apparently i lift certain people’s motivation.”

she glanced at grace who sent her a smirk in return. how she had managed to get kylian’s number and even get him here was beyond her imagination but she was glad to have him here. to introduce him to her world.

“if you tell anyone i agreed to this, i’ll deny it.” she threatened jokingly, grinning at him.

he waved dismissively. “don’t worry, your reputation’s save with me.”

“you know, this is as much my celebration party as it’s yours. i don’t know how you did it but thank u, next wouldn’t have existed without you.” she thanked him, wanting to pass him a glass of wine but remembering at the same time that he couldn’t drink mid-season. “je te remercie tellement pour ça. pour sauver ma carrière. i owe you, whatever you want.” — i am so thankful to you for this, for saving my career

their hands sneakily intertwined, making sure to not be seen by grace or hudson. they didn’t want for the others to know about them so soon, preferring to enjoy their honeymoon phase for bit longer. “well, there’s something i wanted to ask you.”

“i’m all ear,” the singer retorted, looking at him expectantly.

he cleared his throat, letting go of amara’s hand to draw circles on it with his thumb while leaning closer. “you think you’re ready to make your first appearance as my nr. 1 die-hard fan with your presence at my game on saturday?” he asked her, his voice soft and tender with a sarcastic undertone. “parce que j’aimerais bien que tu sois là samedi.” — because i would love it if you were there saturday.

he was expecting a rejection, already having prepared for it. but he hadn’t really measured the way her comeback would change her. amara was done with hiding from the public and bad press. she had long enough play their game, where they could silence her with one bad article. and she was excited to see kylian play live.

“i’ll be there don’t worry,” she replied nonchalantly, accepting his request. “but you’ll have to score. i’m not leaving my couch for just anybody.”

he arched an eyebrow, skeptic expression on his face visible. “so now i’m just anybody?” he asked her incredulously. “wow, i see how it is.”

she rolled her eyes at his antics but wasn’t able to hide the way she enjoyed his dramatic act. “kylian!” she exclaimed, lightly nudging him.

“ça va, j’ai compris,” he held his hand up in surrender. “donc, combien des buts veux-tu, ma belle?” — okay, i understood. so, how many goals do you want, beautiful?

“two,” she stated firmly after thinking for some time. “i want a double.”

he laughed. “two goals it is.” he repeated, brushing some, hair out of her face. truthfully there wasn’t any hair in her face but he loved the feeling of touching her. there was a sense of longing for her, to be near her and feel her close to him. to touch her every time. “and what will i get if i do?”

she shrugged, her face implying everything. “how many kisses do you want?”

he pretended to think for a moment, even putting a hand on his chin before replying, “for a lifetime.”

“a lifetime?”

he nodded. “a lifetime.” he repeated proudly, “nous deux c’est pour l’éternité.” — we two are forever

“so you thought this far already?”

“all i know is that i’ll never let you go. and if you do, then i must have done something stupid.”

a new sense of comfort spread through her body listening to him. butterflies were an understatement for what she was feeling in her stomach. the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little world as they stared into each other’s eyes with their hearts beating in unison.

their kind of love, so innocent and untypical — it was based on more than just love. because sometimes even love was not enough. what actually strengthened their bond was the blind trust they held for each other, she had let herself fall from the clip she was grasping on with her entire strength and he had caught her. made sure she landed safely before taking her own way again. and he had come to terms with the possibility of maybe not playing an as big role in her life as she was playing in his. (luckily that had turned out different) — he was somehow willing to do everything for her.

but just as they see about to lose themselves completely in their souls, grace interrupted them, nudging the couple slightly. “as cute as this is between you, we still need to record some songs,” she said, directing the last part of her sentence to amara before pointing at kylian. “and you, i didn’t bring you here to distract my workers from working.”

“worker? you’re my manager.” amara retorted amusingly, grin quickly disappearing when grace sent her a cold glance. “i’m coming.”

“can i listen to it?�� kylian asked, throwing his question in the middle of their conversation.

she shook her head, the mischievous twinkle practically sparking. “i’ll let you hear it soon. it’s a surprise.” she replied, assuring him as her voice brimmed with sincerity.

he nodded, though he couldn’t completely hide his disappointment. they exchanged a quick, longing glance before reluctantly parting, painfully aware that their obligations called them back to reality. “i’ll wait for you here,” he told her softly, instantly summoning a smile on her lips. that smile intensified when he took amara’s face in his hands (a gesture she had gotten used to) and planted a soft yet passionate peck on her lips — right in front of an unsuspecting grace.

any sense of seriousness and productivity left her body as she watched her best friend kiss the french striker, jaw nearly dropping in disbelief. but she was doing a great job at hiding it and acting as if whatever just happened in front of her was normal.

when everyone had gone back to work, grace seized her chance during a small lunchtime break. hudson had engaged into a very lively conversation with the french striker, not being able to contain his football-love anymore, bombarding kylian with question. this gave grace the possibility to drag amara away and do her own questioning relating to what had just happened between her and her beau.

without any forewarning, grace dragged amara to the back of the studio, her mind racing as she tried to piece the puzzle of the revelation in front of her together.

“what the hell did i just see?” she exclaimed excitedly. “a peck — a real relationship peck! when did this happen?”

her face was covered with a sheepish smile as she shrugged. “we’re dating now. we moved forward and things happened and now we’re dating.”

“that’s all you’ve got to say? we had thousands of phone calls and not even once did you mention this.” grace retorted loudly, staring incredulous at her best friend.

“honestly, it's a relatively new relationship, and i didn't want to make a big deal out of it. enjoy the small bliss.”

“wait till liyah hears that.” she furiously took out her phone, dialing liyah’s number and calling the latter by facetime. amara groaned, already seeing the kind of embarrassment she would get from liyah, especially because from the trio, she was the most livid when it came to exciting news.

to amara’s small dismay, liyah instantly took the call. “gracey, surprised you’re calling.” she greeted the pr-manager, loud noises in the back indicating that liyah must have been at the grand prix that was taking place on sunday.

grace grinned as they saw liyah all dressed in red-attire, probably to support her boyfriend. “liyah! thank god you took the call! i have news!”

“spill the tea!” liyah replied excitedly, matching grace’s enthusiasm.

“amara and kylian are dating. like fully dating! she’s off the market.”

liyah’s eyes widened at the new revelation, immediately turning to amara, who hid her face behind her hands. “what do you mean, they’re dating? you and kylian made a step forward? that final step we were all waiting for?”

before amara could reply, grace had already cut in. “and she probably wouldn’t have told us if i hadn’t invited kylian for today. this little bitch,” she pointed at amara, “would have probably waited a week before telling us that she and kylian even talked about making the next step.”

“how could you amara? i spent five days in paris with you and not even once did you mention that something happened!” liyah scolded her, voice getting louder to overcome the noises from the garage. “now spill everything. and i mean everything. every little detail.”

slightly panicking, she sighed. “well, he was over. he had planned on coming directly after they had come back to paris from their away match but i convinced him to come later because my mom was over—“

“mama imani was over?”

“she visited to check up on me and all that stuff,” amara explained, shrugging dismissively. “anyway, we talked about us and then there was a kiss…,” she confessed sheepishly, shyly turning away as her friends’ smiles got wider. “and then we decided to move forward. especially because the line of friendship was crossed a long time ago. oh… and the flowers he got me that day because they reminded him of him also were a factor that played into my decision.”

grace and amara covered their ears when liyah let out a loud scream, managing to even drown out the noises around her. “omg! how could you keep this from us? wait till i’m over again.”

“how long have you been in this new phase? i gotta know how long you’ve kept this up from us.” grace inquired, scrutinizing amara closely.

again, amara thanked the gods that she couldn’t blush. “well, it’s been two weeks now and like i said, we’re just looking where all this is leading to.”

“and now the real details?” liyah demanded, “did you only kiss or did more happen?” she asked, her tone becoming slightly suggestive.

“well, if you’re so curious. no we haven’t had sex yet. but we made out. a lot.” she admitted, hiding her face as liyah let out a scream.

“omg, this just made my day.”

grace smirked. “he’s also the reason why thank u, next exists. he’s the one who got in contact with ariana grande.”

another scream pierced through the phone, this time louder as liyah failed to contain her happiness.

“mon coeur, tu vas bien?” they suddenly heard in the background, and liyah turned to face the person calling after her. “i heard you screaming on the phone, even carlos was worried for a moment and andrea sent me to check on you.”

they watched liyah laugh, before peck the man’s lips, who they assumed was charles softly. “don’t worry babe. just excited because of some news i just got. wait, i just remembered that you haven’t even met the two most important persons in my life.” holding up a finger to indicate that he had to wait for a minute, she grabbed her phone, putting it in front of them, making charles appear on the screen. “meet my soul sisters, grace and amara, who is finally off the market.”

amara buried her face in her head out of embarrassment, listening to liyah introduce them. “she’s also the third person in our secret marriage with lewis.”

“third person?” she questioned, forgetting all embarrassment and arching an eyebrow. “now i’m offended.

charles laughed as they started to bicker around, his dimples reminding amara of kylian’s. “it’s very nice to meet you. she talks a lot about you. sometimes i feel like you’re dating her and not me.”

liyah rolled her eyes. “as if that isn’t the same with you and pierre.” she turned back to face her friends. “it’s literally me, my boyfriend and my boyfriend’s boyfriend.”

“if this is because pierre tagged along on our date once, i already apologized.” he groaned, turning his attention back to amara. “i’m a big fan of your music. especially your new song, ‘thank u, next’. a fave of mine.”

“thank you so much. i am also a big fan of your driving, especially your victory in austria. but i still prefer lewis.” she added jokingly.

he grinned too, taking no offense to her remark. “fair enough. athough now i can brag to the others that i met you. especially lando and carlos. they’re die-hard fans.”

“greet them for me. make their day.” amara’s smile radiated through the phone, her happiness clear on her face. “also do we need to do the threatening-thing, where we tell him how we can kill him in fifty-seven different ways or should we just skip it and talk about what dating you includes? because i actually like you, charles.”

the couple laughed, charles sneakily putting an arm around his girlfriend to bring her closer. liyah waved dismissively. “girls, don’t worry. you forget i’m the baddest bitch out of the three of us so i’ll know what to do if he ever steps out of lane. and honestly, after having been in a relationship with james, it’s not really hard to top that.”

still, they mustered him, scrutinizing him very closely though they were satisfied by him. just the way he held and looked at liyah was enough to prove that he really loved her.

it also didn’t hurt, that charles was happily ready to accept all of the conditions, amara and grace laid down for him.

he accepted the monthly girls’ nights and didn’t mind the three am calls between the girls as they all were sometimes in different timezones.

neither was he against weekly date nights, no matter whether it was a night in or night out and accepted quickly the rule to never leave the other on read.

grace and amara would lie if they said that they didn’t have fun, analysing charles and having him agree to every of their rule. and the ferrari driver would probably never admit, but he liked seeing her have such good and caring friends. even though he had already forgotten half the things he had agreed to.

listening to them, liyah suddenly understood what her friends were doing. they were making sure she finally got to have the perfect relationship with charles that she had been wishing for during her time with james. the dating nights, no fighting because she spent too much time with her friends, no jealousy crises — they were making sure she was finally living the bliss, she was supposed to live during a relationship.

hanging up once they had finished with their conversation, the two women walked back to the men again, who had longly finished their conversation and had taken on to talk about god and the world as they waited for the girls to finish their conversation.

“so, did you talk to your biggest fan?” amara asked kylian, leaning her head on his shoulder as hudson arranged everything so they could continue recording.

“fallais me dire qu’il était fan de manchester city.” kylian let out, grumbling a bit. “i am still a bit sore over that defeat.” — you should have told me he was manchester city fan

she grinned. “he’s a football fan. i thought that would be all you cared about.”

he rolled his eyes, smile still not leaving his lips. he sat down on the black revolving chair, taking a few spins. this time it was amara’s turn to roll her eyes. especially because she wasn’t finished and this was her place.

“kylian, you’re sitting in my chair,” she complained, groaning slightly. “please sit somewhere else.”

“mais celui-ci est plus confortable,” he replied, spinning around again to purposely miss the pout amara gave him. — but this one is more comfortable

“please,” she begged him again. “there are hundred different chairs here, just take one of these.”

“how about you take one of those,” he retorted before continuing to spin around, annoying amara even more. she let out an ‘uf’, groaning as she turned to make her way to the other chairs. “or you could just sit down on my lap.” he proposed slyly, smirking at her just as she was about to grab a chair.

she arched an eyebrow, weighing her options in her head. crossing her arms, amara sighed as she rolled her eyes and gave in, sitting down on kylian’s lap.

her body grew a bit tense, uncomfortable as she had never sat in someone’s lap before and somehow he sensed it. his arms wrapped sneakily around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest.

amara turned, smiling at him as kylian buried his head into her neck, his warm breath sending tingles down her body. his hands drew soft circles into her skin, tracing her body and every of her small defaults. the ones he had grown to love for her.

the new-found pair was so lost in each other, their flowing conversation distracting them from their surroundings thag they failed to notice the pr-manager take out her phone and capture this moment of love. smiling to herself, grace put her phone back after uploading the picture of the two to her story.

“after everything that happened,” hudson remarked, appearing next to grace as they watched the couple laugh together, only god knowing what they could talk about, “she definitely deserves this. someone who will love her the way he does.”

even though she had already been many times in his apartment, this time it felt different. perhaps because this time she wouldn’t be entering it as amara imani, the singer who had just had the worst year of her life. instead she was going into this apartment as amara, the girl dating him now. there wouldn’t be reasons anymore as to why she was there, she didn’t need any reasons anymore to be there.

the living room was tastefully decorated, lots of pictures showcasing his victories and achievements. she remembered her first time over, when she had been over here and the picture of their win from the lighe 1 had taken all her attention. the picture that had made her feel attired to kylian, with that certain twinkle in his eyes. while her eyes travelled around the room, he had quickly gone to his room, wanting to change into more comfortable clothes before spending the evening with her.

as she perused the shelves, her fingers wandering over the different book shelves, she noticed his music collection consisting of a long tower of cds piled up. needless to say, she was impresssed by his huge music collection and the way it varied from classical to contemporary. now it made sense why he had known so many old school and 80s hits . but what especially caught her eye was the dusty jazz cd, hidden away between a cd of whitney houston’s best hits and a 2000 party hits cd that instantly caught her interest. like they always said, curiosity killed the cat and amara couldn’t resist the temptation to play it.

confusion was clear on kylian’s face when he entered the living room, soft jazz tunes sounding out of the speakers. he arched an eyebrow as he joined her, placing himself next to her.

“do i even want to know why jazz is playing at the moment?” he questioned, amused that he was already so used to amara’s impulsive thoughts and ideas.

“nope,” she replied, shaking her head while a grin appeared on her lips. “but you need to dance with me. mayhe i’ll tell you then.” she replied mischievously, putting her hands around his neck.

he sighed but complied nonetheless and placed his hands on her hips before sliding them upwards for them to rest on her waist. “i have no idea how to dance to jazz,” he admitted, feelings heat in his cheeks even though there was no blush.

“me neither honestly.” she confessed, but shrugged happily. “but i don’t care. let’s just give it a try.”

the pair tried to keep with the slow rythm of the music but both realized quickly that jazz was not their music. they swayed and spun around, trying to dance the steps they had seen in music but the more they tried, the more awkward it became as they never managed to stay in the beat.

as kylian extended his arm and spun her around, amara tripped over his foot trying to match the rythm, resulting in both falling to the ground and landing softly on the carpet. one look was all they shared before they began to laugh. “we suck at this, don’t we?” kylian grinned, a sparkle in his eyes.

“yeah,” amara giggled, sitting up. “we should stop before someone mistakes us for actual dancers.”

the two let the jazz music play in the background, still fond of the memories with them failing to dance. while kylian got comfortable on the couch, taking over the whole sofa by extending his feet, amara preferred to stay on the fluffy carpet, songbook in her hands along with a pen.

“so… why were you so keen on dancing to jazz? i’m not judging but why, of all music genres did you take jazz?”

“i listened to the two of us and i just wanted to truly feel the song.” she replied sheepishly. “but as we all saw, it’s not really ours. i think we’re made to listen to it.”

he laughed at her but at the same time couldn’t stop himself from falling even more in love with her. she was truly the sunshine he had imagined her to be, the happy bubble she had once been. evan had only put a small black cloud on her head but once she had finally gained her self-trust and confidence back, the black cloud also disappeared and her sun shined through

“well, would you be so kind as to put on some serious music now?”

“only if i get to choose,” she commented, her face brightening up at kylian’s short nod. she quickly crawled to the music box, connecting her phone before she took back her place, getting truly comfortable now.

after their comical attempt at dancing jazz, they were ready to try out something new, listen to their own music. amara realized that music had become their own proper love language. while other couples communicated through affection, touch or soft words, their language was music. a language no one but them spoke.

she was used to express her feelings via verses and music but they had never spoken to someone. but with him, suddenly every song had an answer, a reply to it. they felt closer to each other when they listened to music and shared their feelings through soft melodies. a perfect duett.

as she scribbled through her notebook, going over the two songs that were next to record, kylian propped himself on one elbow to get a better view of her, watching her work. before her, he used to think songs were easy, they were just a few words that had to rhyme but after meeting her he had finally seen the process that went into it — was finally able to measure the worth of their work.

the first tunes of “style” filled the room, taylor swift’s song immediately lighting her face up with joy. she hadn’t even noticed that she had continued to sing along while working on her own lyrics — that much she loved the song. she wanted to ask kylian to sing along with her, dance with her to it but a certain sense of comfort prevented her from doing so. they were comfortable, at home in this position. she wouldn’t want to destroy it and kylian could always have another dance party with her.

the latter watched her intently, totally mesmerized and enchanted by her singing and her voice. each second that passed, he fell more in love with her, with the way she was just so natural. her talent and her passion were just two things of a long list that kylian loved about her. another thing was the way she was able to take another artist’s song and add her own note to it, her own touch. just the sight of her, fully in her element and singing to the song, fueled the fire in kylian’s heart that burned for her. somehow even the smallest moments like that deepened their connection.

amara would only know later how lucky she had gotten with kylian. someone who loved her because she was so passionate and talented and not just for her looks and reputation. he admired her creativity, her dedication and the way she always wanted to give her fans the 100% of herself that she deserved. she was the only one able to make him feel things he didn’t even know he could feel. he would follow her everywhere around if she asked him — kylian was completely enamored with her and probably loved her more than she did him.

even though she was deeply focused on her writing, she could still feel his gaze on her. the affection he gave her still made goosebumps spread through her entire body but here, she found comfort in it with him playing with some of her loose curls. it helped her concentrate. she turned, sending him a warm smile before turning around and setting her eyes on the paper in front of her again. it felt nice to have someone like kylian support her.

the song had longly ended and she had drowned out her surroundings to better focus on her work. it came easy to her with kylian’s support and encouragement along with the endearing smile he sent her. his gaze was comforting, calming.

“did i tell you about my coming collaboration with…” she broke the silence, trailing off. “i get to do a song with beyoncé.” she exclaimed happily.

“what?” his eyes widened in surprised before his perplexed expression turned into a happy one.

“yes. you know how she was my mentor and brought me into this business and now i actually get to do a song with her. that’s why i need this,” she pointed at the lyrics, “to be perfect. especially because she will be going over it and add her own lyrics for her part.”

“that’s incredible,” he gushed excitingly. “and believe me, your work is phenomenal. just what i got to see today was enough for me to know that you’re the most talented one.”

“well, i’m no beyoncé.” she mumbled shyly. “i just want this to work.”

“and it will mara. i’ll gladly call her if she doesn’t like it.” he advised, proudly smiling at her.

amara rolled her eyes. “get off your high horse. tu crois que tu es qui par rapport a beyoncé pour l’appeler?“ — who do you think you are in relation to beyoncé?

she laughed at his offended expression and continued to work on her song. she was immediately immersed in her songwriting again, adamant on making sure to give her idol her 100%. there was no way she’d disappoint the queen b.

while she wrote and erased words, kylian couldn’t help but be completely captivated by her focused expression. and to him in that moment, she was the most beautiful person ever. he had always thought that she was the most beautiful when she was laughing but he had seen another side of her — her passionate one. where she gave everything to make sure her words were perfect and made sense. and it made her even prettier than she already was.

he couldn’t even stop himself from taking out his phone and discreetly starting to take pictures of her without her noticing. he wasn’t very often a fan of taking pictures when the two were together but here, he knew he had to preserve this memory, this state of her.

after a few moments she started to sense something though. kylian was abnormally silent and calm for his usual state. she turned around, making kylian jump up at her sudden movement and a playful smirk build on her lips.

“you’re taking pictures of me again, aren’t you?” she asked, putting her book on the floor.

he chuckled, unable to hide his smile and pulled out her phone again to show her the endless pictures he had taken off her. before she realized, he started to take pictures of her again, making her groan.

“ky, please stop this.” she demanded, self-conscious taking over.

“never. i’ve never seen you so focused before, i had to capture this moment.” he just replied, laughing gently as he took another one.

“ky. at least delete it if i look bad in any of them.” she insisted, half-jokingly.

he shook his head, still amused by her slight discomfort. “ma belle, trust me, you look good in every lightening to me.” he replied sincerely, looking at her with so much love her heart filled with warmth

“why are you even taking them?” she questioned the french striker, putting down her book for final. she knew she wouldn’t get anymore work done today.

he shrugged nonchalantly. “i needed a new wallpaper. and why not take the person i like most.”

“fine,” she bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling but it was useless — a huge smile plastered on her face, reaching from one ear to the other as she let him take pictures of him for the rest of the night with small fights sometimes escalating as they thought over the phone. and still, she wouldn’t trade this evening for anything.

with an oversized shirt she had borrowed from kylian (which he knew he would never get back), amara found herself in the bathroom next to kylian as they brushed their teeth. she hadn’t really planned on staying over for the night but time had other plans, passing so quickly neither of the two had realized how late it had gotten. before they knew it, it was already too late for amara to go home (or more like, Kylian didn’t trust her to be alone at this hour in paris).

standing in front of the mirror, the two brushed their teeth, amused grins displayed on their face as they stared at each other through the glass. after spitting out the remainder of the toothpaste that stuck in her mouth, she washed her toothbrush and reached for her toiletries bag.

wanting to give her more place as he knew what she was about to do, the french international player placed his brush back into the small cup and took a few steps back to sit down on the border of the bathtub. he watched with amazement and an innocent kind of love and endearment as she gracefully washed her face before starting to apply various creams to it. with the soft bathroom light reflecting in his eyes, he smiled at her as his eyes glanced over her natural state. it felt like home.

amara glanced back at him through the mirror as she caught him staring at her, probably daydreaming with the way his eyes were locked on her. smiling, she turned to him, face creme still on her fingers. “do you want me to give you a skincare routine too? just asking with the way you’re staring at me. believe me, i’d be doing you a favor.”

he looked at her confusingly, chuckling as he shook his head. “don’t worry about me, i’m fine as i am.”

she walked towards him, squinting her eyes to scrutinize his skin. “your skin looks horrible,” she stated shockingly. “how come i’ve never noticed with how often we made out?”

kylian laughed at the way she seemed so upset, smirking as he responded, “guess that means im doing my job right.”

she rolled her eyes at her retort, exhaling loudly. “non, mais kylian sérieusement. i don’t want to kiss your face if it’s all scratchy and full of dead skin you probably didn’t really wash off.” — no but seriously kylian

he let out a small groan, realizing what that probably meant. “i take good care of my skin, don’t worry.” he replied but he hadn’t reckoned with amara’s persistence.

with a mischievous glint apparent in her eyes, she grabbed one of her moisturizing creams and moved slowly towards him. “i am so sorry but you left me no other choice.”

every step that she took towards him, he took one back, trying to get away from his as she neared him with an evil grin. “amara, really, it’s not necessary.” but she didn’t give up, ready to put some cream on his skin.

in the span of a second, he took off, trying to hide from her as she began to pursue him. the pair found themselves in a playful fight, both laughing as she tried to dab a bit of her moisturizing cream onto his cheeks.

he was successful in dodging every of her attempts but he hadn’t expected her to be so determined on it as she did not show any signs of abandonment or giving up.

“you’d make me so happy if you took good care of your skin.” she pouted, hoping to make him crack which worked. looking at her one last time, kylian finally gave in. but while amara thought it was because she finally wore him down, he had other reasons. and the biggest one was seeing her smile grow wider because she thought she had won. he’d do everything to see her smile.

“but don’t put on too much,” kylian instructed, “and just the cream. no serums or whatever you have in that bag.”

her face lit up with delight, nodding quickly as she made him sit down on the border of the bathtub again and gently applied the white cream to his cheeks. without even noticing, he closed his eyes as a sense of tenderness and softness washed over him. he’d never admit it but it felt good as she brushed her fingers softly over his face.

“and finished,” amara cheered, closing the cream, “now your skin is happy and smells amazing.” she leaned in, placing a soft peck on his cheek, her lips lingering for a little longer on his face.

he pulled her down next to him, his arm wrapping around her figure immediately. she laid her head down on his shoulder, playing loosely with the strings of his hoodie. “ready for bed now and some cuddles?”

“lead the way.” she replied quietly, intertwining their hands.

they exited the bathroom, heading directly for the bedroom to lay down. Kylian had been unsure whether amara wanted to sleep in the guest room or with him but his worries quickly vanished when they reached his bedroom and she laid down on the bed, hitting the free place next to her to signal for him to join her.

his cheeks were probably already hurting from all the smiling today and yet he couldn’t get himself to stop. laying next to her felt like a dream, the ones that felt so real that one often wondered whether it was really a dream. the soft scent of cherry and vanilla crawled up his nose as he buried his head in her neck, his arm pulling her closer to his chest.

it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep or at least enter the dazed state of sleep. nights that amara had spent, staring at the ceiling hoping to fall asleep seemed like a distant memory now that she had kylian. the sense of belonging he spread made it easy for her to fall asleep — because now she could let herself fall freely without worrying. except the butterflies in her stomach, she didn’t really feel anything that made her want to worry. and sleeping belonged to that.

“kylian, are you still awake,” she asked into the silence, hoping that kylian wasn’t asleep already, she nudged him lightly, happy when she felt him turn towards her. “tu te rappelles quand je t’avais promis une chanson?” — remember when i promised you a song?

“hm…,” he replied sleepily, “yes, that by the way i’m still waiting for.”

she stared up at him, waiting till his eyes were fully open and focused on her. taking a deep breath, she snuggled closer into his chest. “well, i wrote you an entire album.”

𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢

liked by selenagomez, dualipa and 26.732.195 others

amara.imani mon amour, je t’aime — the album, COMING SOON

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[mako-neexu]

please do give a summary!! and thank you 🥺❤️

i got busy with dream striker asdsjkfh but heres the summary:

basically 80% of the Servants take their leave and return to their home countries- or at least where they're located considering the earth is bleached. And Santa Martha picks Nemo to be 2023 santa this time so he's named Nemo Porter. After taking on the role of santa, Nemo insists on guda and mash to stay and fully relax in the border then after nemo leaves BB helps guda and mash secretly assist santa nemo by making sure his route is safe wherever he goes.

over the week, we get to learn that nemo took on being santa because he wants to give someone a gift. you see how even king hassan himself warned nemo about it then later on merlin stops nemo for a while because of just how risky the operation is and tells them that its practically near-worthless given what they're going to do, then BB with guda and mash not to ask nemo about what hes planning.

nemo's objective all along is to gift guda their chaldean uniform- the very Master from years ago who collapsed right after a battle simulation as soon as they came to Chaldea. its really sweet...

it was a highly risky voyage considering time travel itself is near impossibility and could absolutely destroy Nemo's saint graph into nothing should he even breathe wrong during the Zero Sail or during his time at 2015 chaldea. so "no changing the past" is something that was absolutely integral to the time travel. even telling past-ritsuka about how special the uniform is would cause everything to fall apart. (this is also why the event is named like this btw 7 days of preparation and delivering presents and 8 years of traveling back far into the past)

after going through against the harsh upcurrent (and even seeing guda's nightmares especially Garden of Lostwill), nemo and the crew eventually safely travel back to the past, with nemo wearing meuniere as a disguise. there, he sees cerejeira, some old staff... and finally Romani Ar- "Man in a Lab Coat".... which the Man almost instantly realize its not "Meuniere" beneath but maintains friendliness regardless. they have a chat- a small chat of world fighting for survival to which the Man in a Lab Coat expresses his opnion that there is no right and wrong in a battle for survival. that the victor only gets to have the right to see what happens next.

then the conversation finishes and "Meuniere" asks the Doctor for two pairs of white gloves. to which santa nemo gives to the present guda and mash as his christmas present for both of them, after having delivered past-guda's uniform for them to use later on.

ok cut now for lore stuff

basically the most striking detail albeit small, changes everything.

"Announcer" - Prologue of the Fuyuki singularity

"CHALDEAS" - Christmas 2023 event

this basically means that it wasnt an accident that Fujimaru Ritsuka became Humanity's Last Master that day. it means that CHALDEAS itself literally planned for fujimaru to pass out in the simulation to delay their arrival from the bombing, setting the battle simulator to "Senior" or highly difficult on their first day.

CHALDEAS. CHALDEAS itself chose ritsuka that day. it could probably be because no one was highly as compatible with servants as much as Fujimaru Ritsuka themself. and considering its true purpose is to fulfill marisbury's grand order, it must have chosen them for that reason? theres not much info on chaldeas that i remember but if you consider this, then that changes everything from the start.

[meraki24601]

I’m once again coming back for an ask! 🥰 if you’d like the idea would you write more smt abt Poor Hero x Rich Villain? (Whump hurt/comfort).

Maybe a mistreated Poor Hero who has to steal since their company is not doing them justice and are punished for it and Villain is all there for them to find why Hero is out stealthy stealing from grocery stores while limping? Maybe Hero does it again, even tho they know the consequences (It could be for their own food or better for someone else or maybe their companion animal that they can’t let it starve).

Adapt it the way you want 🫶🏻 If it sounds boring don’t worry abt it~~~ always a fan of your writings 🫶🏻✨

Welcome back, Friend! Sorry for the delay, I already had a few other things lined up for Whumptober, but I thought your prompt fit well for day 22! Prompt: “Watch out!”

(Also this is actually my second go at this. I felt like this version fit your prompt better, but I'll probably post the other version later!)

Thief

-----------*-***-*-----------

Villain glared at the security camera footage. They had watched the hooded figure steal from their store over and over again. Something about them was so familiar. The way they held themselves was drenched in shame, but the determined set of their shoulders struck Villain in a way that held them captive to the screen. 

Beyond the familiarity of the thief, Villain was shocked at the skill with which they stole from the decently guarded store. Villain had opened three stores in town, and the one the thief had chosen was the oldest and least protected. They had taken advantage of every blind spot. There were only about ten seconds of footage of the person. They walked into an aisle and left the store with arms full of water, crackers, canned food, and a blanket.

The obvious answer was a homeless person trying to survive. That’s what the stolen items suggested. Yet, they had moved so efficiently and skillfully. It seemed almost as if they knew where the cameras were. Their face stayed hidden the entire time.

A phone call startled Villain from their thoughts. The manager assisting Villain with the footage answered, their eyes widening in shock. “The thief is back.” Villain was out the door before the manager had finished talking.

They found the Thief sneaking out of the pet aisle, arms wrapped tightly around a sleeping bag and a gallon of water. Villain watched as they moved through the store, taking notes of where they dodged out of sight of the cameras. Much to Villain��s surprise, the thief moved through the store quickly despite the limp that seemed even worse. Once again struck by the familiarity of the figure in front of them, Villain followed the figure out of the store and grabbed their arm before they could run as they had before. 

“You chose the wrong store.” Villain tightened their grip on the thief’s arm and dragged them around the side of the building. The hooded figure dropped the supplies in their arms to tear at Villain’s hand. The small gasps and whimpers seeping from the hood as their bad leg gave out made Villain flinch. They had heard that sound before. They knew who it was they held. 

“So the hero has become the thief.” Villain gripped the hood covering Hero’s face and ripped it back so hard it started to tear off the jacket. “This is where you’ve been for the past two months? Do you know what would happen if word got out you were stealing?”

“Let me go.” Hero’s voice was broken. Their words were strong, but they sounded so defeated. Villain had never seen them so low.

“You claim to be so righteous. Teaching people to fight despite the challenges. People look up to you. I look up to you. You fight against me and my team, but when all is said and done, you’re just like the rest of us.” Villain slammed Hero against the wall of the building. Their hand held them in place at the base of Hero’s throat. “How can you live with yourself? You’ve killed people for doing what you’ve just done. Twice! You’re lower than I could have ever imagined. Pathetic.”

“Let me go.” A tear fell onto Villain’s hand.

“Look at you. You can’t even walk right, can you? I thought you were different. I thought you were the one who would save everyone. Maybe even me.” Villain’s lip curled as they pressed harder.

“I said, get your hands off me!” This time, Hero pushed Villain back. “You don’t get to touch me. Not after what you’ve done to me. Not anymore.”

“What I’ve done? You just tried to rob me!” 

“I didn’t know this was your store, okay?”

“That’s not the point, Hero. That’s not what I want to know.”

“That’s all you need to know!” Hero’s chest heaved as they yelled loud enough to make Villain’s ears ring. “I didn’t know this was your store, or I wouldn’t have come here. Now, get out of my way.”

Fire bubbled in Villain’s belly. No one talked to them like that. Especially not Hero. They weren’t the kind of person to talk to anyone with such spite. Especially after all they had been through together. It was one of the parts of them that had grabbed Villain’s attention from the very beginning. Something was very wrong. “You will not steal from me or anyone else again.”

Hero laughed. It was a short, incredulous laugh tinged with pain as they limped back a couple steps toward the end of the alley, spreading their arms wide, “Yes, Master. I only live to follow your orders. What are you going to do about it? Call the cops? I’m a hero. I can do whatever I want.” Hero kept walking, their eyes glued on Villain.

Villain was livid. As Hero stumbled over a piece of trash littering the sidewalk, they couldn’t help but think of the person they knew before. The one who pulled their punches because they knew Villain was trying to change. The one who held Villain as they listened to Villain sob about the things Supervillain had done to them. The lover who had kissed their scars so carefully on those lonely nights when they had nothing but each other to make it worth living to tomorrow.

They couldn’t see that person anymore. As Villain looked into Hero’s eyes, all they could see was anger and fear. 

Fear. That… didn’t seem right. Even in their fiercest battles, when Hero was bloody and beaten, Villain had never seen Hero look at them with fear. As Hero continued blindly back out of the alley and into the road, their attention was locked on Villain. That was when Villain knew something was truly wrong. Hero didn’t notice anything else around them. Not even the car speeding toward them. 

“Watch out!” Villain cried, grabbing the front of Hero’s shirt and yanking them into their arms and out of danger. 

For a moment, Hero watched the car that didn’t even slow down drive off into the distance. With no warning, Hero collapsed into a sobbing heap in Villain’s arms. Through the tears, they begged, “I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. Don’t hurt me. Let me go, please, I can’t take any more.”

Scooping Hero into their arms, Villain slipped back into the alley. The sudden change in Hero was not a good sign. “Hush now, Hero. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” Villain was concerned about how little effort it took to carry Hero. And, now they were close enough to see, Hero’s hair was greasy, and their clothes were covered in specks of dirt and old dried blood. It confirmed everything they had suspected before. “You’re homeless, aren’t you?”

“They framed me.” Voice barely above a whisper, Hero buried their face in Villain’s neck. “Hero Agency set me up. They black-listed me at every apartment building, hiring job, and homeless shelter. I didn’t even know homeless shelters could deny people.”

Villain was horrified, “Your sister. What happened to your sister?”

“She’s on the streets with me. I finally got our Aunt to agree to take her in if I can get her there, but she won’t have me. No one will.” 

Setting Hero down on a wooden crate, Villain knelt at Hero’s feet. “Where is she now? Is she safe?”

“For now. Please, I’ve been gone far longer than I should have. Don’t turn me in. Let me go back to her. At least until I can get her to our Aunt’s.”

“You were limping before, and there’s blood on your clothes. Can I see your injuries?” 

“There’s no point.”

“Of course there is. I want to help you.”

“No one can help me. No one wants a worthless Hero. If I only learned one thing over the past two months, it's that.”

Villain rose on their knees and cupped Hero’s face in their hands. Slowly and clearly, making sure Hero’s eyes were on them, Villain sighed, “I want you, Hero. I will always want you.”

Hero jerked to their feet. They swayed as they limped a few steps away, leaning heavily against the wall. “Your lies are beautiful, but a lie is still a lie.” 

It was clear Hero was on the edge of running, so Villain stayed where they were. “It’s not a lie, Hero. I want you. Even when no one else will have you. I want to take care of you and your sister. Please, come sit down. Let me be your home, your safe place. Your lover and friend and protector.”

Hero didn’t make it back to the crate before their leg gave out again, but they came back. Villain caught their Hero and held them tight, unconcerned about the tears staining their shirt. As Hero tilted their head up to meet Villain in a hopeful kiss, Villain knew that everything would be alright.

Version 2

[jagsdoodloos]

Continued - A legends end.

Avatar Korra; Daughter of the southern water tribe and the Avatar. Born after the sudden passing of Aang, the last air bender, she became the new master of the four elements of earth, water, fire, and air. In her youth, Korra made her debut to the wider public, arriving in Republic City - Capital city of the United Republic. In short time, she proved her metal, confronting a series of great crisis and turmoil that befell Republic City's populous and the rest of the world. From the masked terror of Amon, to the treachery of Unalaq and the world ending Vaatu, Zaheer of the Red Lotus, and Kuvira's great coup - Korra rose to face threat after threat and triumphed.

Avatar Korra's courageous deeds, through her formative years, cemented her legacy in the annals of history. And in the years after, she would go on to face other trials, encounter many dangers and have high adventures. Yet even faced with impossible odds and the truly strange, she overcame these challenges, but never alone. Korra, with the help of dear friends, faithful companions, and the love of a good woman, would live a long rich life. A life that leaves a message of perseverance and hope in the face of doubt and darkness. And there would be no greater example of this lesson than perhaps Korra's most perilous ordeal of all! No other threat, not sense the battle with Vaatu, would push Korra's mind body and spirit to their limits. . . when Sozin's Comet returned.

The Legend of Korra is a tale that, to this day, enthralls generations of scholars and common folk alike, not the least of which is just how it came to an end. Avatar Korra lived to the ripe old age - of 110. Yes. Historians only knew of her passing until nearly 15 years later, when the next Avatar was found. You see in her final years, Korra vanished, seemingly without a trace. She told no one of her destination, not even her surviving friends and family, but not before tying up loose ends and finishing all her affairs thoroughly. Everyone has their own theory and suspicions as to her ultimate fate, but close friends and those within her inner circle suspected the real reason. Perhaps Korra, sensing her time drawing near, embarked on her final journey. A personal journey to make herself whole again. Her last journey and the final chapter to her legend. . . . A chapter yet to be told.

To be continued.

That was a long one! Sorry for the delay, but I had to have some Korra art to help flush out this pitch. I want to expand Korra's story like any fan and I want to see more official stuff. But until Nick or Paramount decide to do more with her and the franchise, like the fandom, we'll have to settle with some good old fanfiction. But it doesn't have to be this way. We're willing to give this studio money and time if it only just greenlights a new season or a tv movie or SOMETHING! I want more Korra.

As for what comes after LOK, well I like to think this concept idea could make for a new series for everyone. If at least one or two people. And I've got more on the way so stay tuned. Or if you can't wait, you can visit my Instagram - I got some vignettes up complete with art drops to go with them. So feel free to have a read.

And if you like my art style, again you can DM me here or there for art commissions work, so lets dish. And again, more to come.

[inkwardspots]

Having just read Chapter 73 of spy x family, I wonder if the hijacking of the school bus will be the things that pulls Twilight into thinking "Oh. Maybe it's not just a mission."

See, despite all his time shared with Anya and Yor, cultivating fondness and sharing happy memories and 'ootings', he's never really had full-on panic. The closest thing I can remember that comes close to it is that small bit where he yells at Anya briefly for running away with Bond to stop the student-led assasination.

The thing is, when he finishes his undercover mission and The Handler informs him that "Operation Strix is in danger. Damian Desmond and Anya are being held hostages, with at least one bomb on board." will the first thing Loid - or Twilight, seeing as it become harder for even himself to distinguish the two - think be:

"Oh no, Operation Strix." or "Oh no, my daughter."

He's always taken his missions solo, what happens to his mission if the key component doesn't survive? What happens to his mission if she becomes traumatised by the situation and doesn't perform well to gain the seven more stella's needed?

Those are all very plausible though for the intelligence agent Twilight to have. He's established a persona with Donovan Desmond and Henderson at least already knows him familiarly, so if Anya is gone he'll have to wait the rest of the academic year and disappear from Yor's life to reappear in another disguise with another child and another wife, delaying the execution of Operation Strix.

Twilight is an intelligence agent, trained to hide all emotions if the situation requires it. But Loid? Loid is a "feelings doctor" as Anya puts it. Loid knows what goes through a person's mind, he knows what problems might be present and how to help the patient solve them. Loid is a family man; he's a supportive father, a caring husband, a responsible dog-walker. He dressed himself up in a combination of silly, touristy clothes because his daughter criticised him for not being fun enough and got torn down by the same girl for being uncool and "a drag".

The point is, Loid - and even Twilight, as these two masks seem to blur together - cares so much for his daughter. How will he deal with the fact that his mission is in danger? How will he deal with the fact that his daughter - his chaotic, gremlin-child daughter - his Anya, is in danger?

Will he wonder about all the time wasted while he was undercover? Will he wonder if Yor knows? For the first time, when Yor realises (probably for Yuri), will they have to face this crisis as a married couple?

It's a fake family, but, it means the world to them. Twilight, in divulging information about his mother, describes Yor as "strong" like her. Will Yor have to be strong now and stand beside Loid (and Twilight) as his operation and daughter are in danger? She can't go in and murder all of them like she would prefer to. And Twilight can't infiltrate the SSS in case it raises suspicion that Loid Forger, whose child is on that bus, doesn't truly care - but, that's only if all the parents are informed.

It's not likely that Twilight will panic and be seized by a desperate need to hold his daughter close and near after the fiasco. If anything, it'll only reaffirm his belief that he needs to be a spy with no personal attachment for his personal mission of making sure no children cry. But Loid?

Loid, who is a family man, who (most probably) picks outfits for his daughter and wife, who walks the dog and buys pastries for his family as well. Loid, who misses dinner most days but still makes sure that his daughter and wife are fed when he isn't there?

How will Loid, who would rather spend time with his family than go on these missions, react to his daughter being in mortal danger and having to face their first true parental panic and crisis with his wife?

How?

[electrikworm]

The Batch have a terrible day

On a job for Cid, the Batch have another run in with Zygerrian slavers. They end up getting captured again and this time, they're not lucky enough to get out unscathed.

--

Content warning: Blood, torture, electrocution, whipping, broken bones

This fic has been finished but unedited for two weeks now, and I'm tired of it's un-posted existence haunting me. I edited it as best possible but no promises.

I feel like this fic's a bit more of an acquired taste, but I had fun writing it.

Nevertheless, Enjoy :)

Read on Ao3

Wrecker shifts impatiently from foot to foot as Hunter knocks on the door again.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Wrecker asks, turning to Tech. Tech glares.

“Yes I am sure this is the right place. These are the coordinates Cid gave us.” he says, looking at his datapads screen, likely double checking they're in the correct location.

“Maybe she gave us the wrong coordinates?” Omega asks.

“That would be a new low, even for her.” Echo says as he knocks on the door himself.

They've been standing out here for a good ten minutes, and everyone's feeling a little on edge. Wrecker sighs. They're supposed to get some unspecified cargo from someone they know nothing about except that they're based in this building and transport it to a buyer who's also unknown to them. It's bad enough that there are so many unknown variables in this mission, the delay is making Wrecker really nervous.

The fact that it's midday, and Tatooine's twin suns are burning down on them isn't helping. Wrecker pushes his helmet up to wipe off the sweat running down his face. “I hate this.” he complains, meaning both the heat and having to linger on Tatooine. Cid's bar isn't exactly the nicest part of town, but this dust ball is entire different kind of shady.

Hunter nods, running his hand across the heavy door slowly, deliberately. “There's a possibility the seller got attacked.” He says. Wrecker can't say he disagrees. Now that it's been pointed out, the thing Hunter's inspecting does look a lot like a scorch mark caused by a blaster shot. “Seems like no one's home. Tech, can you get this door open?”

With a nod, Tech crouches near the door, eyes fixated entirely on the datapad he's holding too close to his face.

“We just need the cargo to get paid.” Hunter continues. “We'll search the place, see if anything's left.”

“Can't hurt to check.” Wrecker says. They haven't been earning well lately, surviving off of the most basic of rations. Of course Wrecker is glad they have anything to eat, but these aren't the same rations they got under the Republic. They're just as tasteless and boring, but the ones the Republic supplied them with were tailored to the clones higher need for calories. They're all in need of a good meal.

With a hiss, the door slides open. They are faced with a silent and dimly lit corridor. The air inside is almost freezing compared to the heat of the suns outside. A shiver shakes Wreckers body as they step inside.

They quickly come across another closed door and a corridor leading off to the right. Tech tries to get this one open too, but something stops him.

“Something must have damaged it.” Tech sighs, clearly annoyed. But their brother is nothing if not resourceful, and he comes up with two ways to solve their issue.

There's a ventilation shaft he points out that could lead to the other side of the door, albeit too small for anyone but Omega to fit through. There could also be another door if they followed the corridor to the right. Hunter orders Wrecker and Echo to look for another door, whilst he Tech and Omega see what they can do with the stuck one.

“Keep us updated if you find anything.” Hunter says as Wrecker and Echo set off. As they turn around, Wrecker can just about see Hunter lifting Omega up to get her to the vent.

The atmosphere is tense, every noise Wrecker and Echo make seeming too loud. They still know nothing of the seller, or what happened to them, if something even did.

After a few minutes of nothing but walking, Hunter contacts them. “Keep an eye out, I think I heard movement.”

Before either he or Echo can respond, there's a loud noise from the rest of the squads direction, echoing down the corridor. The familiar sound of blaster fire follows, and Echo immediately sprints in its direction. Wrecker tries to do the same, but something hits his arm, snaking its way around it.

Wrecker doesn't need to see who's at the other end of the electro-whip to know they're dealing with Zygerrians. The electricity flowing through the wire wrapped around his arm is intense enough to make him lose his grip on his blaster rifle. It's not enough to keep Wrecker from closing the gap between himself and his attacker and slamming his head into the Zygerrians face with a loud crack. He is immediately replaced by more.

Echo's turned back to assist Wrecker, firing shots at the attackers, but the corridor is narrow, and every time Wrecker takes a swing at the Zygerrians, Echo is forced to stop shooting. There's barely any room to dodge, so when one of the Zygerrians fires an electric net at Wrecker, it finds its target easily.

Wreckers muscles seize as the current courses through his body, yelling against the pain as he struggles with the weight of the net. It doesn't take him out fully, but that barely helps Wreckers situation. He's fallen to his knees, and the Zygerians are too close. Wrecker swings at them, but his aim is off and he hits weakly, limbs still wracked with spasms from the electrocution. Echo gets hit by a shot from an energy bow, and as he's trying to right himself, an electro-whip wraps its self around his neck.

Both of them are restrained with ease and lead into the very room they were trying to get into, weapons aimed at them and the threat of further electrocution used to make them walk.

Hunter and Tech are already in the large room, made to feel cramped by the dim lighting and low ceiling. Thankfully, Omega is nowhere to be seen. Wrecker doesn't let himself entertain the idea that that might mean she's already dead. There are a few crates strewn about the room, possibly the cargo they're here for. Not that that mattes when there's also at least fifteen Zygerrians gathered here.

Hunter and Tech already had their helmets and weapons removed, and the same is done to Wrecker and Echo before they are shoved to the ground next to their brothers. Wrecker drops to his knees with a hiss. This close, Wrecker can see that Tech's bleeding from a cut somewhere in his hairline.

“Omega?” Echo says just quiet enough for the four of them to hear.

“Safe, for now.” Hunter hisses back. Wrecker's about to ask about an escape plan when a surge of electricity courses through his body, leaving him gasping against the pain. By the look on his brothers faces, they were electrocuted too.

“You are not allowed to talk.” a Zygerrian states. The squad of clones complies for now. They're outnumbered, unarmed and bound. Wrecker hates to admit it, but their chances of escape seem pretty slim right now. They'll have to bide their time for an opportunity for escape to arise. Out of earshot, the Zygerrians are having a discussion.

“Where's the child?” the Zygerrian who seems to be in charge says, interrupting Wreckers train of thought. Kriff, did they spot her before Tech and Hunter were captured? The Zygerrian laughs. “Oh yes, we know about you. Some of us were there on Ord Mantel, when you ruined the beginning of something great.”

Wrecker resists the urge to groan. Of course their luck would lead them to a run-in with the same group of slavers twice.

“Rest assured, we will find the girl sooner rather than later.” The leader continues with a smile Wrecker would love to wipe off his face. “And we won't make the same mistake again. You'll be separated.” That certainly complicates things. “You wanted first pick, yes?” The leader says as he turns to one of his men. The Zygerrian he addressed nods before heading towards the group of kneeling clones, lips pulled into a snarl.

“Remember me?” he sneers. Only when the Zygerrian's kicked him in the stomach, does Wrecker realize he's the one being spoken to. “You broke my nose on Ord Mantel.” The Zygerrian adds with a threatening hiss. Now that it's been pointed out, his nose does look crooked. Wrecker genuinely can't say that he remembers this Zygerrian specifically, but he won't mention that. Doing so wouldn't improve the situation.

The Zygerrian with the crooked nose motions for two others to follow him after he orders Wrecker to get up and start walking. Legs still unsteady from previous electrocution, Wrecker does as ordered, knowing full well he won't be the only one he'd be hurting if he disobeyed now. Wrecker doesn't know much about Zigerrians, but one of the two that follow looks young. The other one sticks out due to being larger and stronger built than most of the Zygerrians in the room. Wrecker will have to watch out for him.

Wrecker's lead out of the central area and through a door to the side. The room inside is small and just as dimly lit. There are no windows, and if there once was furniture, it's been removed now.

“Kneel, skug.” The crooked nosed Zygerrian orders. Begrudgingly, Wrecker does as he's told. Apparently he moves too slow, as he's electrocuted again, making him fall to his knees a lot harder than intended. Wrecker glares at the slavers. The one with a grudge against Wrecker looks amused as he hands the control to Wrecker's shock collar to the younger Zygerrian, motioning him to use it. The rookie hesitates for a moment. His inexperience may end up aiding Wrecker's escape if he uses it to his advantage.

This time the electricity hits him, Wrecker bites himself. Blood pools in his mouth from the wound on the inside of his cheek. Before Wrecker can regain his bearings, the Zygerrian who's nose he apparently broke grabs Wrecker's face. He tips Wrecker's head from side to side, inspecting him closely, humming ever so often to express his opinion. It takes every ounce of resolve in Wrecker's body not to slam his head into the Zygerrian's smug face.

“That won't make you any more valuable.” he says as he traces the scar on Wreckers face. His sharp nails are uncomfortably close to Wrecker's cybernetic eye as the Zygerrian studies it with a disapproving sigh. “Damaged goods, but strong.” he continues, wrapping his other hand around Wreckers bicep. Wrecker wants to twist out of the Zygerrian's grip so badly. Instead, he makes an angered noise, halfway to a growl. “The attitude we will have to fix.” the Zygerrian says, sounding amused.

Wrecker spits a mouth full of blood in the Zygerrians face before he can properly consider the action. A harsh kick to the stomach from the large Zygerrian serves as immediate retribution. Wrecker can't help the groan that leaves his lips.

The Zygerrian he spat at is wiping the blood off his face with disgust. “Vile creature. If that's how you want to do things, I'll happily oblige.” He hisses, then snaps his fingers in the large Zygerrians direction. “Get the armor off his chest and back. He is in need of some retribution for what he did to my nose anyway.”

The large Zygerrian places his foot on Wrecker's lower back, pressing him forward uncomfortably as his armor is removed. Every bit of armor that is roughly pulled off is thrown across the room. Wrecker can't help the thought that if things go the Zygerrians way, this'll likely be the last he sees of it. The young Zygerrian is watching the scene unfold intently.

Once his back and chest are free, the Zygerrian with a grudge draws a blade and disappears behind Wrecker. The clone braces for pain, but all the Zygerrian does is split the shirt he's been wearing under his armor plating down the middle of his back. Though it's hardly important at the moment, Wrecker is a little annoyed at the ruined item of clothing.

“Up and hands against the wall.” the large Zygerrian says, drawing the electro-whip at his hip. Wrecker really doesn't like where this is going. He hesitates.

“Do as you're told slave, or we'll get one of your friends, beat them instead. Maybe the little girl's turned up by now.” The crooked nosed Zygerrian sneers. The thought alone of being the reason one of his vode is being hurt turns Wreckers stomach. Undoubtedly, terrible things are being done to them right now. Wrecker refuses to add to that. He just hopes Omega hasn't been caught.

Wrecker stands and moves to the wall, placing his cuffed hands against the cool stone. He feels uncomfortably exposed.

“Above your head, skug.” the large Zygerrian hisses. Wrecker presses his palms to the wall higher up.

“No one is going to buy you for your looks, we can afford leaving marks.” the crooked nosed Zygerrian says, tone betraying the smirk on his face, as he pushes Wrecker's shirt aside to fully expose his back.

The first lash of the whip lands without a warning. Wrecker doesn't want to give them the satisfaction of screaming, but the shock of the electricity leaves him very little choice in the matter. Once the contact ceases, so does the electrocution, but that hardly means Wrecker is afforded a break. Where the electo-whip's wire hit him, it's left a mark that stings like fire. Instinctively, Wrecker tries to move away from the awful sensation. He's quickly reprimanded and ordered to hold still.

Wrecker readjusts his position with clenched teeth. If it weren't for the collar, defeating the three Zygerrians whilst unarmed would be challenging but manageable. At best, he'd be able to take down one of them before he's electrocuted, which will be shortly followed by one of his siblings suffering the consequences of his actions. He's got no option but to play by their rules, and hope by the time an opportunity for escape arises, he still has the energy to do so.

The whipping only get worse from there. The strikes start to overlap and Wrecker soon learns that the implement is tipped with something sharp that digs into his skin every time it makes contact. Wrecker doesn't know how many times he's been hit, can't keep count with how closely the lashes follow each other.

The one that brings Wrecker to his knees hits his his back in a brutal downwards swing, sharp tip cutting into the muscle of his shoulder, whip leaving a mark diagonally all the way to his hip. His vision goes dark for a moment, next he knows, he's on the floor, forehead rested against the cold wall. Sweat and tears run down his face as he gasps for air in short, laboured pants.

It takes all of half a second for the crooked nosed Zygerrian to grind his boot into Wreckers back. He grits his teeth against the feeling of the rough sole being dragged along his torn skin, the weight of the Zygerrian pressing his face into the wall.

“I'm sure you are aware of what will happen if you do not get up right now.” The Zygerrian shows no desire to take his foot off Wrecker's back any time soon.

Leaning heavily on the wall, Wrecker pushes against the Zygerrian weighing him down. His legs tremble as he stands, but he gains a little satisfaction from making the Zygerrian take a hasty step backwards as to not fall over.

The tiny bit of glee he feels is soon quashed as the Zygerrian recovers from almost tripping and starts running his hand along Wreckers back. He flinches at the touch, hates himself for allowing his discomfort to show. Wrecker wants nothing more than to shove the Zygerrian off, it'd be so easy to take him out. He's standing so close, perfectly in Wrecker's range. Once again, Wrecker can't do a kriffing thing.

The Zygerrian laughs. “You are a lot more obedient than I expected. Almost like you were made for this.” He digs his nails into the split skin and blisters the electro-whip left on Wrecker's back. The large clone fails to suppress a wince. “I might keep you.”

The thought of having to answer to that man for any longer than he's had to up to now disgusts Wrecker. Wrecker huffs and risks turning his head to glare at the Zygerrian, regrets it as he sees the horrible little grin spreading on the feline's face.

“Don't worry, it wouldn't always be like this. I take good care of my possessions.” The tone he uses makes an involuntary shiver run down Wrecker's spine. “But you do have to pay for what you've done to me.” Stroking his hand along Wreckers back a final time, the Zygerrian steps to the side and snaps his fingers. The whip strikes him again, and Wrecker really isn't sure how much more of this he can take.

They get three more strikes in by the time the door slides open. Wrecker tilts his head to observe the situation. An out of breath Zygerrian is standing at the door, ears flicking nervously.

“We have a problem. One of the slaves is lose.” Wrecker fights the urge to laugh. He has a feeling Omega played a hand in that.

“How?” The Zygerrian with the crooked nose exclaims, then waves off the newest Zygerrians attempt to answer. “It doesn't matter.” He turns back to Wrecker. ”Get him secured. And you, shock him if he so much as breathes wrong.” He says to the large Zygerrian and the rookie respectively, then draws his blaster and leaves the room.

Wrecker's just been handed the perfect opportunity to escape, and he isn't about to waste it. The large Zygerrian approaches Wrecker far too casually, making the clone wonder if he's being underestimated, or if the Zygerrian is just stupid. He presses his blaster to Wrecker's neck. Wrecker doesn't wait to hear what ever order he's about to spit.

Wrecker's spun round and knocked the Zygerrian to the ground before he can even pull the trigger of his weapon. The rookie's slow. By the time he activates the collar, the large Zygerrian's knocked out, possibly+ dead.

The pain from the shock is intense, Wrecker can smell the burns on his neck even as he's screaming. When it stops, Wrecker overplays how out of it he is. He waits on his knees, head resting on the sand covered floor.

“Stay down, skug!” The rookie can't hide the way his voice wavers. It only takes Wrecker a split second to sit up, break his cuffs over his thigh plate and get his fingers under his collar. When the collar is triggered again, Wrecker's still trying to get it off, his fingers cramping and burning under the electricity. The rookie however acted too late once again, as moment later, the collar breaks.

A panicked scream is all the new slaver gets out before he is thrown across the room.

Wrecker shakes his hands to lessen the sting as he staggers to his strewn about pieces of armor. Grimacing, Wrecker pulls the cut under-shirt back into place. The blood running down his back soaks into his gloves. It takes an awful amount of focus not to scream as he fixes his armor back in place, feeling a lot like he's being whipped once more.

Moving with his armor back on doesn't feel any better Wrecker notes as he hurries to join his vode in battle. He grabs the large Zygerrian's blaster on his way out. There's no one directly outside of the door, but Wrecker can hear the commotion of battle close by.

When he rounds a corner, he is almost hit by some kind of electro-staff. Wrecker's ready to defend himself, but pauses.

“Tech?” Wrecker's surprised at how hoarse he sounds.

“Wrecker.” his brother sighs, lowering the staff. He looks rough.

“Where are your goggles?” Tech's still bleeding from the cut on his head, more blood coming from a split lip, and has additional bad bruising littering his face, but his goggles are absent. The collar is still around his neck, and he's standing hunched.

“One of the slavers saw fit to step on them.” Tech says, eyes unfocused and distant thanks to his bad sight. “Right after he stepped on my hand.”

Wrecker's eyes flick down to Tech's still cuffed hands. The one not clasped around the staff has a noticeable tremor to it. There's nothing Wrecker can do for any of Tech's problems right now, they'll need Echo to get the cuffs and collar off.

“Stick close, ori'vod.” Wrecker says as he moves to put a careful hand on Tech's shoulder, giving him enough time to dodge He doesn't. Hand on his brother's shoulder, Wrecker continues walking.

The building they're in isn't big, Wrecker and Tech only run into two Zygerrians more until they're back in the room they were first dragged to. Wrecker breaths a sigh of relief when he spots the rest of their squad.

Echo doesn't look good either, the shot he took to the shoulder making his hand unsteady as he shoots, seemingly barely able to lift it, and when he moves, he does so with a heavy limp. Hunter looks the worst. He's barely upright by the looks of it. Omega is thankfully unharmed.

Wrecker opens fire on the Zygerrians, taking care to keep Tech near. Even without his goggles, Tech effectively fends off attackers behind Wrecker. The fight is practically over when a voice now familiar to Wrecker makes him and his brothers freeze.

“Drop your weapons, or I kill the child.” the crooked nosed Zygerrian announces. He has his hand wrapped around he back of her neck, his blaster held against the side of her head. The Zygerrians nails dig into her skin as Omega violently struggles against his grip.

“Let her go.” Wrecker snarls.

“Why would I do that?” laughs the Zygerrian. “Do not think she will be exempt from the same treatment you got, slave. The longer you wait, the worse things will get for her.” Grinning at Wrecker, he slams the back of his blaster into the side of Omega's face, knocking her to the ground, face twisted in pain. Bringing his boot down hard on her back, he pins Omega to the floor. Instinctively, they all lurch forwards, but a shot fired dangerously close to Omega's head lets them stop in their tracks.

There are two other Zygerrians still up, though they look worse for wear. They matter little with Omega's life on the line.

“Drop your weapons.” The Zygerrian repeats. Wrecker considers offering himself up in exchange for Omega, but doubts this is the kind of man to let anyone go. It's all Wrecker can think of that doesn't endanger Omega further. “You too, big guy.”

Wrecker goes to put his blaster down, just as the Zygerrian gestures at him using his own weapon. For a split second, it's not aimed at Omega. That's all it takes for Wrecker to shoot him in the chest.

Echo's immediately at Omega's side as Wrecker and Tech take the last two Zygerrians out, after which they also check on their sister. Echo's carefully inspecting the cuts on her neck, while Omega presses her hand to the bruise forming on her cheek, wincing as she does.

“You okay there, kid?” Wrecker asks, running a hand over her head. He hopes there's no blood left on his gloves.

She nods, smiling surprisingly wide for someone who's just had their life threatened. “It's fine.” Wrecker can't say he agrees, fear still fresh in his system.

“What now?” Wrecker asks, changing the topic from the fact Omega could have just died.

“We try and locate the client and finish the job.” Hunter forces out, voice strained. He's sat down on one of the crates, holding his face in his hands. Wrecker grimaces in sympathy. The electrical burns around his brothers neck are extensive. They all know what electricity does to his enhanced senses. Hunter's no doubt feeling extremely overwhelmed on top of being in a world of pain.

Convincing Hunter to stay seated and letting them do the searching is difficult. Echo ends up staying with him, no one comfortable with leaving Hunter alone in his state. They tried to get Omega to stay too, but she adamantly refuses to do so.

Once Tech is release from his bindings, and they reclaim their own weapons and helmets, the three of them scout the building for any sign of the person they were supposed to meet. Wrecker keeps a close eye on his siblings throughout.

At some point, after they've checked the first two rooms, Tech gets Wrecker's attention by motioning him to lean closer. Doing so sends a wave of agony up Wrecker's spine, though he doesn't let on.

“How bad are Hunter's burns?” Tech asks.

“They don't look good. He doesn't look good.” Wrecker sighs. “We need to get him on the Marauder and laying down soon as possible.”

Tech hums affirmatively. “Quite. What about Omega?”

“The scratches aren't too deep, but they could get infected.”

“Anything about Echo I might have missed?” Tech asks. Wrecker shakes his head. If there was anything else, he's missed it too. “What about you?”

“I'm good to go.” Wrecker laughs. “Quit worrying.” Tech's eyes narrow in suspicion, but he doesn't say anything more.

Omega sprinting out of a room they hadn't been in yet draws their attention back to their surroundings. Her eyes are blown wide.

“What's the matter, ad'ika?” Tech asks, leaning forwards and squinting almost comically.

“I think I found the client...”

The room looks like a living space, almost cozy thanks to the patterned carpet covering the harsh floor, and close arrangement of the furniture. In the centre of it, someone lays sprawled on the ground. An elderly Twi'lek woman, orange skin worn with age, scars dotting her body and blaster laying in her limp hand telling the tale of the kind of life she led. The circular wound in her forehead, blood long since clotted, but having had enough time to soak into the carpet, immediately tells them how that tale ended.

“I do believe your assumption is correct Omega.” Tech says, crouching down next to the corpse. Omega holds he energy-bow close as she watches him. Wrecker decides to usher Omega out of the room with the dead stranger by placing a hand on her shoulder. They wait outside for Tech to rejoin them before heading the short way back to their brothers.

“The client is dead.” Tech announces as soon as Echo and Hunter are in sight. Echo sighs heavily.

“Do we just take the cargo and bring it to the buyer?” Wrecker asks.

“But we don't even know what we need to transport!” Omega says. Wrecker groans. That's going to be an issue.

“We will have to check the crates present in this building and narrow it down to those most likely to be something worth trading.” Tech says. “We will have to bring the Marauder closer.”

Wrecker makes a noise of frustration, remembering where they'd landed it. “Why'd we have to leave the ship so far away?” He knows the answer, they left the ship somewhere not so easily accessible to try and prevent theft. Tech repeats this to him again either way.

“I will be back with the ship shortly.” Tech says, already walking off.

“Forget it, ori'vod.” Wrecker jogs up to Tech, cutting him off. “Not with that hand. I'm flying.”

“You most definitively are not!” Tech sounds offended. “You don't fly the Marauder nearly enough, you are completely out of practice.”

Wrecker huffs. “If not me, then who? Your hand's broken, Echo got shot and Hunter looks like he's 'bout to throw up.”

Tech looks like he's about to argue further, but is interrupted by Echo. “I have to agree with Wrecker.” Hunter makes something adjacent to an affirmative noise, though it is heavily laced with discomfort.

“Fine.” Tech sighs. “But I'm coming with you.”

Wrecker's almost forgotten how hot it was outside. The heat hits him like a tank when they step into the sun. He'd know, he's been hit by a tank before. The way to the Marauder isn't that long, 15 minutes, 25 being slowed down by tech's lack of vision and their injuries. It is however extremely unpleasant. The heat is near unbearable, he's starting to get a headache and his back feels like it's on fire, every step dragging his backplate across his lacerated skin.

Ten minutes into their walk, Omega comms them. “Please hurry, Echo started bleeding and Hunter's been sick twice already.” She sounds terrified.

“We'll be back before you know it, Omega” Wrecker responds, hoping to sound comforting. He picks up the pace he walks at.

The incline they have to climb in the last stretch to the ship almost takes Wrecker out. He's drenched in sweat and dizzy from pain once the ship is in sight. The Havoc Marauder's interior is pleasantly cool, having been left in the shade of a rock formation. Whilst Tech looks for his spare goggles, Wrecker takes a moment to lean on the wall and just breath, closing his eyes as he does so.

“Are you quite alright?” Tech asks. He's found the spare goggles, is adjusting the way they sit on his face, disturbed by the bad bruising. This pair looks nearly identical, only the strap being a slightly different shade of colour.

“Could ask you the same.” Wrecker retorts. Tech's breathing pretty heavily himself, and the way he moves has a shakiness to it. Tech shakes his head and motions for Wrecker to follow him to the cockpit.

Tech hovers near Wrecker as he starts up the ship. He only sighs as Tech reminds him of things he already knows, not having the energy to argue. Operating the Marauder's controls aggravates the dull sting of the burns his hands suffered. Wrecker welcomes it, the discomfort serving as a slight distraction from his back. The ship shudders as it lifts off, prompting Tech to tell Wrecker to watch it.

“And now you're moving at snails pace.” Tech says with a sigh.

“I'm just trying to be careful.” Wrecker grumbles. The fact that Tech most likely perceives the speed Wrecker uses as slow because Tech flies like he wants to cause an accident, Wrecker keeps to himself. Landing the Marauder is a little unsteady as well and Wrecker gets reprimanded once more.

Just as Wrecker's about to stand up again, not wanting the exhaustion taking hold of his body to win, Tech clicks his tongue. “What did you do to your under-shirt?”

Tech brushes his hand along the edge of the cut shirt, pushing it to the side. He does so carefully. In truth, it barely changes anything about the pain Wrecker's experiencing. But for some reason, the touch makes his skin crawl and his heart rate pick up. He almost jumps out of the chair he gets up so fast, quickly turning his back away from his brother.

Tech's frowning, eyes widened slightly. “Did they whip you Wrecker?” His voice is collected, but tinged by a mix of worry and anger.

“That's a problem for later.��� Wrecker says, walking away from his brother as fast as he trusts himself to. He hears Tech calling after him, choses to pretend not to. “Stay with the ship, we don't want it to get stolen.”

Wrecker's rather proud of how close he managed to land the ship to the base. He won't have to carry the crates too far this way. Wrecker keeps up the pace he's moving at all the way to his vode, not wanting to leave them alone any longer than he has to.

Echo's sat down too by the time Wrecker's arrived. True to Omega's word, he's bleeding through bandages clearly hastily, but neatly, wrapped round his shoulder. Hunter is hunched over heavily, barely conscious by the looks of it. Omega was stood between them looking nervous until she spots Wrecker and runs up to him.

Wrecker crouches down, deciding he can spare at least that much energy for her sake. “Can you get Echo onboard, whilst I get Hunter?” Omega nods with determination. Amusement crosses Echo's face as he follows closely behind Omega.

Wrecker clenches his teeth as he gets up, crouching down a second time in front of Hunter. He pushes his helmet up. “Sarge?” Wrecker speaks softly, not wanting to worsen his brother's headache. Hunter groans and his unfocused eyes flick up to meet Wreckers. “Come on, lets get you on the Marauder.” He knows an offer to be carried will be refused.

With a nod, Hunter starts to stand, needing Wrecker to pull him up most of the way. Wrecker tries to touch Hunter as little as possible, only to steady him if he stumbles. Hunter doesn't need more sensation messing with his brain. For a moment, Wrecker considers putting his brother's helmet back on him to lessen the intensity of the sun. The fact that Hunter might throw up again makes him carry it for him instead. There are few places worse to be sick than in your own helmet.

His caution was warranted, as not two steps out of the building, Hunter bends over and starts expelling mouthfuls of watery spit between coughing.

“Just a bit further, ori'vod.” Wrecker tries to encourage his brother. Once they get to the last few meters separating them from the Marauder, Hunter's legs give out on him. Wrecker makes the decision to pick him up weather Hunter likes it or not, apologizing profusely the entire way. Hunter doesn't look as offended as Wrecker expected him to when he's set down inside the Havoc Marauder.

“I'll load the ship.” announces Wrecker, walking off again. Tech follows him. “You should stay, get that hand looked at.” Wrecker says, boots sinking into the sand slightly as he turns to look at his brother standing at the top of the steps leading out of the ship.

“The pain I am experiencing is mild at worst.” Tech says, clearly lying. “I will help you.”

Wrecker scoffs. “With one hand?”

“I will help you determine what is worth taking.” Wrecker wants to protest, but knows any argument he brings, Tech will throw right back at him and his own less than ideal condition.

“Fine.”

Sorting through the variety of crates and boxes takes longer than Wrecker likes. A lot of it has no value. How their seller had three crates of out of date rations, a food source known for it's extremely long shelf-life, Wrecker does not know. What's more irritating is that a large quantity of the stuff they find could potentially be what the buyer wants.

That means countless trips back and forth from the Marauder. The overhead cargo hold is entirely full of boxes when their done, as well as there being barely any room left to move freely in the Marauder with all the excess crates stacked on the floor.

Wrecker feels exhausted as he walks to the ship the last time. Tech keeps glancing over at him, has been doing so constantly. Wrecker's glad his helmet hides his expression. Between the adrenalin and the now badly aggravated burns on his hands acting as a distraction, the pain of his back has faded to the background of Wrecker's mind. It'll come crashing back down on him as soon as he lets his body rest.

Wrecker's glad to find their vode on the ship already patched up, no doubt due to Omega's help. Hunter's laying on the lowest sleeping rack, wet towel covering his forehead and eyes, neck bandaged. They learnt young that Hunter needs a thicker layer of bacta separating injuries from what is used to cover them. The fabric against his skin is unbearable if not done correctly. Wrecker doesn't doubt Omega's skills, but is still reassured by how calm Hunter seems.

Echo's sitting in one of the console chairs, not looking his best, but not actively bleeding any more either. A blanket is draped around his shoulders, hopefully countering the cold of blood loss that's no doubt layered on top of Echo's usual low temperatures.

Omega's situated on one of the crates, injuries tended to same as the others. The ugly bruise on her cheek has really set in by now, and Wrecker can't help but feel responsible. She's got her arms crossed in front of her chest and sighs exasperatedly ever so often.

“Something wrong, 'mega?” Wrecker asks, not entirely sure if he should be amused by her antics, or if there's a genuine issue.

“They insisted I get taken care of first, even though they're hurt much worse.” She glares at Hunter and Echo as she speaks.

Wrecker laughs. “Downside of being the smallest.” He states, running his hand over her head before making his way to the cockpit.

Together with Tech, Wrecker gets the Marauder into hyperspace without any problems. According to Tech, they should still be able to make the arranged meeting time with the buyer. A few hours in hyperspace to calm down and collect themselves will do them all some good.

Wrecker doesn't get far before Tech starts waving the med scanner at him. “Your 'problem for later' is now a problem for the present. Sit down and let me see your back.”

“What's wrong with Wrecker's back?” Omega asks before Wrecker can argue with Tech. Wrecker hates the fact that he's worrying Omega.

“He got whipped.” Tech says with annoyance in his voice.

That gets Echo to abruptly sit up more. “What?” Hunter tries to do something similar, but is forced to give up half way and lay down again with a shaky groan. Wrecker was trying to avoid a fuss being made, but of course nothing ever goes the way he wants it to.

“It's fine.” Wrecker hisses, pushing the med scanner away. “Tech's injures are worse. He hit his head and could have internal bleeding.” Tech glares at him, almost making Wrecker want to back down.

“Fine.” Tech huffs, sitting down in the chair next to Echo. “Despite your size, I will have to be the bigger person once again.” Wrecker almost sighs in relief.

Wrecker desperately wants to be useful in the first-aid done on Tech, but the way his hands shake make his help pointless, just making Tech glare at him again at the clear demonstration of how not fine Wrecker is. The work falls to Omega. Wrecker's thankful for her medical knowledge, hates the fact she's forced to use it.

Tech's hand has multiple fractures, and, like Echo, he's broken ribs. Omega looks shocked at the amount Tech's broken, so Wrecker feels justified in pushing for his brother to be looked at first. He hasn't got any life threatening internal bleeding, though his head wound needs stitches. That's something Omega can do. The sterile gloves she wears as she works are too big for her, making her hands look even smaller. Wrecker wishes he could take over.

All eyes are on Wrecker once Tech's patched up. Unease settles in his stomach at the though of medical treatment, Wrecker can't pinpoint why it's this bad. Wrecker pulls a crate in front of where Tech and Echo sit, settling on it so that Tech and Omega have easy access to his back.

Wrecker fully intends to hold still and be as uncomplicated as possible, but when Tech's hand brushes against his skin, he's standing with his back turned to them faster then he can register how he got there. Fear grips him like it did the first time. He knows it's just Tech, Wrecker shouldn't be reacting like this. He wrings his hands.

“Wrecker.” Tech's tone sounds like he's about to tell Wrecker off. Before he can, his expression softens. Omega and Echo are both looking at him too, clear concern bleeding into their expressions. Wrecker would rather they'd just get mad at him for being difficult, that'd make it easier not to feel so guilty.

“We will move at your pace and I will announce anything I do, but please, sit back down kih'vod.” Tech continues. Wrecker nods and does as he's told, heart hammering against his ribcage. “Omega is using the med scanner.”

The verdict isn't anything Wrecker didn't expect, though Omega doesn't sound pleased by it.

Wrecker's breath catches when Tech states he'll be given something against the pain first. It's starting to really hurt again now that his body is starting to feel the days exertion, and the adrenalin is dropping off, but the thought of the needle involved in getting painkillers makes Wrecker want to skip that step.

Wrecker doesn't get to complain, Echo gently encouraging him to accept the pain relief before he can. Echo has a similar distrust to medical equipment, though for better reasons than Wrecker. Wrecker takes his advice. He's causing his vode enough trouble as is. Even with Tech narrating his work, Wrecker is still surprised by the sharp sting of the hypo at his neck.

Tech can work well enough one handedly, but anything that requires more limbs is done by Omega. Removing his armor is a combined effort. Wrecker taps his fingers against his thigh plates, trying to distract from the hands touching him.

If Wrecker couldn't feel it, Omega's soft gasp would have been enough to know his back has been exposed.

“Kark...” Omega mumbles, almost making Wrecker laugh.

“Omega.” Hunter mumbles, failing at making his tone sound like a warning. Omega catches what he means.

“If you could see Wrecker's back, you'd swear too.”

“I feel inclined to agree with Omega.” Tech says. Hunter tries to sit up again, but doesn't manage.

“I second that.” Echo says with a sympathetic hiss. “You'll need stitches for some of those.”

Before that can happen, Tech starts cleaning out the lacerations, warning Wrecker every time he's going to run the wet cloth along his back. He's clearly being careful. Wrecker can still barely manage to breath through the pain, the sand clinging to his blood harsh against his raw skin. He hates the fact that he can't stop himself from flinching, hates the fact his vode feel the need to apologize or console him when he does even more.

Omega helps Wrecker with his burnt hands as Tech washes grit out of Wrecker's wounds. Like Tech, she explains everything she does thoroughly. When she pulls off his gloves, every time she shifts his hands or touches them. Wrecker should be strong enough to tell them they don't need to bother putting in the extra effort, but knows he wouldn't be able to bare the situation if they didn't.

His hands shake as Omega's smaller ones inspect them. The burns are hardly worth mentioning, barely any real damage done. Seeing one of his vode in front of him is grounding, so Wrecker is grateful either way, even if the clinical smell of bacta does little to calm his nerves.

When Omega moves to attend his neck, Wrecker is forced to look up. He sees none of his siblings like this, nothing that ties him to this particular moment. Just the generic overhead lamp that could really be anywhere. And for a short, selfish moment, Wrecker is relived Omega's the one to have to do this. Her hands are smaller then the Zygerrian's, than the Kaminoan's, than any of Tipoca City's medical staff. Omega's hands are instantly recognizable as hers.

The thought shouldn't have crossed Wrecker's mind. Omega's a child, she shouldn't be forced to help out with their issues. Especially not when she's injured.

Tech can't do stitches with one hand, so Omega is saddled with that as well. His three conscious vode discuss which gashes are worth trying to stitch. Apparently, there's a significant amount of lashes that have overlapped so badly, attempting to join the torn skin would be a waste of time.

As Wrecker's receiving stitches, Tech sits where his little brother can see him. Wrecker's grateful for his company, even if Tech should be resting, not sitting on a box to keep his brother calm. Tech speaks softly, mainly encouragement, but also of arbitrary things. It's obvious that Tech is aware of every face Wrecker pulls, every hiss, flinch or whimper. He makes sure to speak more comforting words in those moments.

Tech rarely touches Wrecker, only to still his hands if Wrecker is jostling the bandages too much. Wrecker, usually starved for physical contact, appreciates this. More hands on him would only make him more anxious.

It doesn't take long for involuntary tears to form in Wrecker's eyes again, burnt edges of the lacerations having to be pressed together before the skin can be sewn. The blood doesn't make Omega's job any easier, frequently making her lose her grip. She apologizes so profusely when she does. Wrecker wishes she didn't feel like she has to, even if it is nice of her to care enough to do so.

“How can anyone want to hurt someone like this?” Omega asks at some point. Wrecker doesn't have a good answer for her, but is suddenly very glad Omega didn't have to watch the injuries being inflicted upon him.

“It is common among Zygerrians to see other species as inferior.” Tech answers. “It's remarkably easy to inflict serious harm on someone if you believe them to be lesser, or that they deserve it.” The conversation doesn't go further than that. Wrecker isn't sure he could handle any more discussion of heavy topics.

Once Omega is done, Tech runs a wet cloth along Wrecker's back a second time, ridding his skin of drying blood. Wrecker is helped out of what is left of his under-shirt, bacta is generously spread across his damaged skin, then bandaged. They opt for Wrecker just to wear the poncho he'd use to not stick out among civilians, everyone agreeing that getting anything tighter on him would only hurt.

Wrecker spends most of the hyperspace journey in silence, trying to stop himself feeling so on edge, and trying to fix his cut under-shirt. He's soon forced to to leave the latter for later, hands still far too unsteady.

When they arrive, Wrecker has to fight the bone deep exhaustion making him want to stay seated so he can land the ship.

The meeting with the buyer is a lot more irritating and drawn out than any of them had hoped. It got off to a bad start when the buyer, a middle-aged Theelin woman with silvery skin, started laughing loudly upon watching Tech, Echo and Wrecker descend from the Marauder.

“You look kriffing awful!” she just about manages to get out, barely able to get a hold of her amusement.

It's only downhill form there. She takes ages to say what she wants to buy, a set of blasters long since outdated and no longer suited for combat. Wrecker doesn't care enough to ask why she'd want something like that. It then takes her even longer to explain what the blasters she wants look like. Wrecker ends up having to carry a lot of crates in and out of the Marauder for absolutely no reason. He's got a suspicion she is just giving such cryptic descriptions because she finds it funny.

She hands the credits over without a problem. Wrecker's prepared to be thankful for even just that small mercy.

Back on Ord Mantell, Tech and Wrecker are the ones to talk to Cid. Hunter shouldn't get up and Omega wants to keep an eye on him. Echo stayed to keep an eye on both of them.

Cid raises an eyebrow when she sees them, but at least she doesn't laugh.

“Alright, tell me, what did you do with the rest of your little bunch?” She asks, crossing her arms. “Why are you dressed like that and hobbling about like you threw your back out? And what did you do to your face, goggles?” There's a hint of bemusement in her otherwise unimpressed tone.

“The seller you sent us to meet had a problem with Zygerrians.” Tech says.

Cid scoffs. “You lot are unlucky. Did you get the job done?”

“'Course we did!” Wrecker exclaims, making Tech shake his head in annoyance.

“It does need to be mentioned that the seller is dead.” Tech adds.

“And why'd you go and do that?” Cid asks with a sigh.

“We didn't! The Zygerrians did that too.” Wrecker says.

They explain the situation to Cid, the additional cargo they've acquired, and the state the squad is in. Cid ends up paying them ten percent more than their usual thirty, for medical supplies and because they'll be making her more money with crates of decently valuable goods. Wrecker's quite please with the extra percentage, though Tech isn't impressed.

Back at the Marauder, Hunter's still laying on the lowest sleeping rack, seemingly asleep. Echo and Omega are now in the one above him, the small clone snoring quietly, face buried in Echo's chest. Echo greets them with a nod, eyes half lidded.

Wrecker likes the idea of sleep, but there's no way he's getting on the third rack, nor will sleeping in one of the chairs do his back any good. Instead, he pushes some of the crates aside and spread one of their blankets out on the floor.

“You're sleeping on the floor.” Tech says. He doesn't sound pleased.

“Where else? S'not that much worse than the rack.” Wrecker says, continuing making his bed on the floor. “Oh, uh. If you wanna sleep on the top rack, I can lift you up. You know, 'cause of your hand.”

Tech shakes his head. “No thank you.” Wrecker thinks he's going to move to sleep on one of the chairs, but Tech pauses, watching his brother. “If you believe physical contact would no longer have a negative affect on you, I wouldn't mind sharing the floor.” Tech says this like there isn't plenty of space on the floor for him to sleep further away from Wrecker if he wanted to.

Wrecker nods. He thinks he'd like that, now the medical situation is far behind them. Soon they're both laying down, Wrecker curled up against Tech's chest not unlike Omega, mindful of each other's injuries. It doesn't take long for Tech to fall asleep. In the comfortable warmth, and with Tech's rhythmic snoring, it's a lot easier for Wrecker to push the pain to the back of his mind and follow his brother soon after.

[fzzr]

Fall 2023 Anime Wrap-up

Original post:

New Stuff:

16bit Sensation: Another Layer - What happens when galge meets the One Rule of Time Travel? A wacky trip through the history of the mechanics and the passion of bringing lewd ladies to your monitor. Good all around. 8/10

Boukensha ni Naritai to Miyako ni Deteitta Musume ga S-Rank ni Natteta (My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer) - I don't usually go for the daddy-daughter anime, but this turned out to avoid most of the saccharine heartstring-tugging of the type by combining it with the overpowered protagonist fantasy subgenre. Quality was fine overall. 7/10

Boushoku no Berserk (Berserk of Gluttony) - As I expected, this turned out to be pretty low-quality trash. I kept with it in the hopes it would double down, but in the end it sorta just petered out. Credit for not also being a harem anime I guess. 6/10

Kimi no Koto ga Daidaidaidaidaisuki na 100-nin no Kanojo (The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Love You) - Now this is a harem anime that commits to the bit. Every character is pushed to the extreme, from the perfectest boyfriend to the tsunderest tsundere to the kuuest kuudere. You actually believe that this collection of weirdos would be all in for the maximalist harem suggested by the title. I don't think we'll get the two digits of seasons suggested by the number in the title divided by the five girls in the OP, but I'll probably watch as many more as they make. 8/10

Potion-danomi de Ikinobimasu! (I Shall Survive Using Potions!) - I added this one after the season started. I must confess, I'm impressed with the creativity demonstrated with how the OP isekai power is used, and with the willingness to continuously upset the status quo. I'm being generous by giving it an 8/10, but I think it makes it there.

Tearmoon Teikoku Monogatari: Dantoudai kara Hajimaru, Hime no Tensei Gyakuten Story (Tearmoon Empire) - The only thing of note here was its willingness to toss the initial framing device of the main character's foreknowledge due to having been returned to her past. The rest was a show where everyone misunderstands the ill intentions of protagonist as enlightened, like a very meh Eminence in Shadow. I'd probably watch more if they made it. 7/10.

Toaru Ossan no VRMMO Katsudouki (A Playthrough of a Certain Dude's VRMMO Life) - This was never especially good, but I held out due to the relative novelty of a VRMMO anime without artificially elevated stakes. The problem is that while being a VRMMO anime was necessary for the background plot, 80% of what happened in this show could have been done without the VRMMO setting. It turned out to compare quite unfavorably with Shangri-La from this season on nearly every measure. Still, I finished it. 6/10

Watashi no Oshi wa Akuyaku Reijou. (I'm in Love with the Villainess) - This fell off after a quite promising start. The quality drop, out of nowhere incest (why?), and forced conflict in the back half held it back. A painful 7/10.

Zom 100: Zombie ni Naru made ni Shitai 100 no Koto (Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead) - Finally returning after multiple days, this wrapped up just in time for the end of the year. Even aside from the delay, it didn't keep up the momentum from the start. A respectable 8/10, though I wish it could have been a bit more.

Sequels

Dead Mount Death Play Part 2 - It's getting hard to keep track of the nearly a dozen different factions and the amount they know or misunderstand about the plot, but the concept, drama, and characters remain gripping. 8/10

Dr. Stone: New World Part 2 - After a concerning first half, it came together as a return to form for the series by getting back to the underdogs scrappily making things of the first season. 8/10

Kage no Jitsuryokusha ni Naritakute! 2nd Season (The Eminence in Shadow Season 2) - Another commanding performance as trash of the season. The comic tension between the emotional investment of everyone but Cid and his un-self-aware detachment has only increased and the polish more than held up. 9/10.

Spy x Family Season 2 - After a slow start it got it back together for a pretty strong season. I'm pleased with the amount of Yor, though I still wish she would be more integrated into the main plot. 8/10

Uma Musume: Pretty Derby Season 3 - Perhaps the strongest season since the first. And hey, it's more weird sports anime, no one should complain! 8/10

Ongoing:

Kusuriya no Hitorigoto (The Apothecary Diaries) - Like all the best mysteries, no problem is truly solved until you know not just the who and how but the true underlying why. The (deliberately generic) Imperial China setting is a nice twist and the medical focus of the mysteries lets it stand out. Hopefully it keeps it up!

Sousou no Frieren (Frieren: Beyond Journey's End) - This somehow got 28(!) episodes, so it's ongoing. Still, it holds show of the season status pretty much uncontested.

Undead Unluck - David Production is really flexing their Jojo's-enhanced muscles with this banger of an action comedy with a sincere (and slightly raunchy) heart. I'm looking forward to where it goes from here.

Shangri-La Frontier: Kusoge Hunter, Kamige ni Idoman to su (Shangri-La Frontier: Crappy Game Hunter Challenges God-Tier Game) - The game may not be as god-tier as the title claims but I'd sure play the hell out of it if it existed. I really enjoy the main character's speedrunner mentality, and it does a good job of presenting MMO player archetypes (power gamer, griefer, etc.) without letting those positions subsume the actual players. Blog post about this and the other VRMMO anime below coming sometime.

Dropped:

Hametsu no Oukoku (The Kingdoms of Ruin) - I should have just let myself bounce off the first episode. Using violence against women for shock value to justify the main character doing 9/11 personally, by hand, making sure to include some violence against women in that too, plus some more later? Yeah, don't watch this. Dropped at episode 2. No rating.

Bullbuster - It was boring on purpose and ugly by budget. Dropped at episode 2. No rating.

Hoshikuzu Telepath (Stardust Telepath) - This ended up dragging too much. I knew it was going to be slow but... yeah. You might say it failed to launch a-hyuk. Dropped at episode 3. No rating.

Konyaku Haki sareta Reijou wo Hirotta Ore ga, Ikenai Koto wo Oshiekomu (I'm Giving the Disgraced Noble Lady I Rescued a Crash Course in Naughtiness) - It turned out to be a light shenanigans show without enough humor to keep me interested. Dropped at episode 5. Generously 6/10.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 5

Summary: A very special dinner brings a very special moment for the Darkling and his wife.

Warnings: angst, sexual innuendoes, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four  

=================================

She felt caught in the riptide, finding it hard to stay upright. As the daughter of a general, Y/N had seen so many evils, so much hurt, yet she never buckled under pressure.

Staring at the empty spot beside her, she laid there while battling shadows in her head. So filled with rage, she wondered who she’s becoming as a part of her longed to feel his touch. Perhaps he was right, she’s a foolish girl who is trying to win a game where the rules are nonexistent.

Having stayed awake most of the previous night, she didn’t expect trouble sleeping. With a heavy sigh, she abandoned the bed they shared – it felt too intimate to remain there now. They’ve only ever kissed and it was never planned nor did it happen in the very bed she felt is so incredibly vast, so lonely and cold when he didn’t stay there with her.

Pacing the room as she saw his shadow do the night before, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he had trouble sleeping alone too. It was less than a full week since they married and she already cursed the smallest part of her that seemed to care for him.

Men are easy to love. A woman’s heart was made to care and love those near her. Mistaking love and trust is what a woman should never do. Love and trust are separate entities, one is given, the other must be earned.

Remembering her mother’s words eased her self-loathing. If she dared to love the Darkling, it wasn’t entirely under her control. Trusting him was different. She wasn’t as naïve as to allow the echoes of her heart dictate what her mind long acknowledged – he isn’t trustworthy.

And as the stars rise in the sky, she paced the room tirelessly. Arguing with herself, she paid no mind to the night sky she loved so much. If she had, Y/N might have realized a man with dark skies for eyes had trouble looking away from her shadow.

Exhausted, Y/N rose with the dawn. She had barely scraped up a few hours of decent sleep, tormented by his words even in dreams.

“Enter”, she yawned as Genya readily walked inside. The maids rushed to the bed, willing to change the bed sheets they couldn’t last time as Y/N had sent them away.

“Stop!” She exclaims as they reach Kirigan’s side of the bed, a slightly panicked look on her face relaying uncontrollable desires she had no chance of understanding.

Frowning, Genya licked her lips. While Y/N wasn’t sure what caused her outburst, she believed to know the root. “Leave us. You will be asked to change the sheets when Y/N desires it.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N turned away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, Genya mussed. “We have a dinner to prepare you for.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N managed a smile, briefly looking to Genya. “I’ll be alone which gives me a perfect chance to find new allies.”

Blinking fast, Genya’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure who could ally with us in the Palace. Everyone’s charmed by our General. If you’d just work with him, they would all be with you too.”

“He works for the emperor.” Y/N reminded her.

Running her hands through her hair, Y/N didn’t know if she could ever trust him enough to tell him the truth. Her plans, her fight, it’s her life’s work. She came into that palace with intention of burning it down. The emperor must die and anyone else who’d fuel the flames of war must perish along with him. The war had claimed her mother’s life, of thousands of humans and Grisha alike, Y/N aimed to end it. And to end it, she had to destroy those who started it, those who refused to implement equality between species, as Kirigan called them. Humans and Grisha must be seen equally worthy, they must ally or they will be exterminated like vermin by surrounding enemies.

She grieved for her mother every day, even now as a decade had passed. Grief is really just love one cannot give to the other. It’s all the unspent love, gathering in the corners of her eyes, the lump in her throat and inside the hollowed heart that’s trying to beat in her chest. If her sorrow was but snow that could melt with coming spring, she’d shake it off her shoulder and be done with it. It doesn’t just disappear or heal with time, she could not just let it go and forgive. Y/N survived the loss of her mother by making a vow, one she was closer to fulfilling.

“Should I prepare your usual kefta?” Genya asked, holding the blue one over her forearm.

Shaking her head, Y/N turned to her with a smile. If she wants to succeeded, she must use all weapons at hand. Being the General’s wife is one of the weapons at her disposal.

“I was thinking about a different color for tonight.”

“How different are we talking?”

Smirking, Y/N’s eyes flickered to Kirigan’s kefta. “Black.”

“No one wears black but Kirigan”, Genya reminds her.

“Until he married. I believe I’m allowed to wear his color.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Genya sighed heavily. “Alright. As long as you allow me to make a few modifications.”

Anticipating the dinner, Y/N felt like a goddess in the kefta Genya had crafted for her. It fit her perfectly, adjusted just above the waist as it properly accentuated her curves. The closed collar wrapped around her neck, fallen stars creating a golden woven blaze as a necklace, while moondust adorned the long, skin tight lacey sleeves. The bottom acted as a floor length dress with a long slit revealing skin up to middle of her thigh.

Entering the room with her head held high and Genya on her hand, Y/N felt even more confident about the eclipsed sun stitched across her heart. It was bound to attract attention if the rest of her makeshift kefta inspired dress didn’t.  

The moment she took a step inside, everybody’s head turned. The chatter died down, replaced by astonished gasps of pure awestruck admiration.

“I believe you’ve created a masterpiece”, Y/N whispers to Genya whose smile widens.

“You are what makes it so spectacular”, Genya winks.

“Don’t be modest. We both know it’s not in your nature.”

Giggling, Genya nods, “You’re right. I’m brilliant and this”, she steps aside to give her a once over again, “You are proof.”

Pursing her lips, Y/N felt her cheeks darken. Her plan was to draw attention so any potential ally she speaks to would be more inclined to accept her request, but she didn’t expect for everyone to stop and stare.

Tugging her by the arm, Genya pulled her closer. “You’ll never guess who is here”, she spoke in a hushed tone, looking to the left as the rest of the guests began speaking again and the music played softly in the background.

Following her line of view, Y/N’s heart came to a near stop as her eyes locked on his.

“Wasn’t he supposed to leave last night?” Genya whispers, but Y/N could hardly speak.

Breath caught in her throat, Y/N stared back at Kirigan who seemed to be just as breathless. She looked like a dream, a golden bird that carried all the happiness of the world on its wings.

“He didn’t”, Y/N looked away, knitting her eyebrows. “Why didn’t he”, she tried to finish her initial thought, but she couldn’t. If she spoke of the sudden ache that settled after the initial shock of his presence dispersed, she’d hate herself more. She’s weak if her feelings are hurt by a single night spent alone in a bed. She was certain now. She is foolish.

“You won’t be able to network tonight”, Genya’s frown made Y/N chuckle.

“You’ve been frowning so often since we met.”

Shrugging, Genya leaned in discreetly. “I can afford a few worry lines. I’ll just erase them later.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N smiled brightly. She would not allow Kirigan to dampen her mood. He can stay on his side of the room and she won’t spare him a single glance.

“I’ll test the waters”, Genya promised, “If I find anyone that we can work with, we can test their loyalty later.”

Glancing over Y/N’s shoulder, Genya’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

Frowning lightly, Y/N glanced at what has her so perplexed only to huff in frustration.

“Black suits you”, the Darkling compliments her. Holding out a hand for her to take, he glances at his open palm before raising his brow. He’s challenging her.

Looking around, she realizes everyone’s waiting for her reaction. As he told her once before, they may not be a love match, but their arrangement must seem successful to the unsuspecting eye.

“Dance with me and pretend they don’t exist”, his voice softened and she couldn’t believe this is the same man who so cruelly baited her, branding her as foolish earlier. How can he act as if nothing happened when she was still reeling from it? Not that he’d know, she always put care in every move she made around him.

She placed her hand on the palm of his, holding her breath as she chained her gaze to the abyss in his. There’s no going back, she thinks, nearly shuddering as he places his free hand on her hip.

“I thought you were gone by now”, she mussed. Choosing to take control of the conversation, she kept her neck straight as it secured a proper distance between their faces.

“We had a slight delay”, he said, “I’ll be gone tonight.”

Humming, she swallowed thickly. Avoiding looking at others, she remained in a staring match with her husband.

“How did you sleep?” The Darkling smirked, watching her eyes narrow at him.

“Quite well. Did you enjoy sharing your bed with someone else?” While her voice seemed cold and unattached, her words were anything but.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy there?” Pursing his lips, he nearly laughed as she stepped on his foot. “I’ll take that as yes.”

“I’m merely concerned how it would look if word of you sleeping elsewhere got out. I prefer my pride and honor untouched and if you choose to find a lover, I should assume you’ll be discreet.”

Licking his lips, the great general didn’t laugh at her or sneer. There was no angry squinting or vile words. For once, he had a serious expression on his face that had nothing to do with the army or their arguments.

“I’m not the kind who would seek a lover while married. Even if the marriage is a mere arrangement.”

Scoffing, she clenched her jaw as he pulled her waist closer to him. 

“How many lovers have you taken?”

He raised a brow, “That’s a horrible question.”

“Because you lost count?” She narrows her eyes, the lips he found himself so fascinated with formed a thin, red line.

He doesn’t respond, so she tried again, “Why have you not married before?”

Now he looked amused, “That’s even worse!”

Shrugging, she smirks, “Well, ask me a question then! If all mine are so awful, let me hear yours.”

“Do you think I’m a very good liar or a very unlovable being?” Slowly pulling her body flush against his, Darkling looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone and I’ve manipulated everyone who has fallen in love with me. So?” Inhaling sharply, he watched a disarray of emotions cross her face as he asked again, “Liar or unlovable?”

“A liar. Because you are lying, not just to me but yourself.” Her breathing is shallow, strained even. “You have a heart, General, but you’re cowering like a scared little boy instead of just facing the facts.”

“And what are those?” His voice is darker as are his intentions.

If they were alone, she was certain he’d be kissing her lips now. For some reason, it seemed he enjoyed their arguments. He liked it when she fought him almost like he didn’t know any other form of affection.

“That you care. You care and you hate yourself for it.” Stopping their dance, she managed a faint smile. “But don’t worry, I’m not spending my time waiting for you to accept it.”

Brushing his fingers across the left side of her face, he cocked his head ever so slightly, “Is it possible you’ve got this all wrong? From where I stand, you’re the one who cares – perhaps a bit too much? Let me remind you, this marriage is a sham. You are my wife, but I do not love you, I do not care for you and if you were killed right in this very spot, I would avenge you but solely for the arrangement to remain unsullied.”

Nodding, more to herself than him, she took a step back from him. For the first time ever, she drew back. “For once, we’re on the same page of the same book.”

The music stops. Looking to the man clinking his glass, Y/N’s lips part. She didn’t even realize it, but too often she entirely forgoes breathing in Kirigan’s presence.

Taking a deep breath, she nearly laughs. Kirigan…General…The Darkling. She even called him husband, yet she never even heard his first name. How odd is it to marry a man whose first name is a mystery to you, she thought.

“If you’ll excuse me”, she nods curtly without sparing him a glance. 

Her seat at the dinner table was beside Genya, while Kirigan was placed all the way on the other side of the room. She smirked, satisfied she’ll have some peace during her meal. She never quite liked the table formation in a wide U form before, but she blessed the ones who created it on this evening.

Studying him from afar, she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him. It wasn’t some cosmic connection that she hoped she’d share with her husband, rather wishful thinking. Longing for him is out of the question. He may be the most handsome man she had ever seen, but it’s not at all something she’d thank the saints for. If he were less appealing, she’d at least be free of torment his looks bring. The devil is real and he’s not a goat like man as humans believed. There are no horns, no tails – he’s beautiful, a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless.

“You’re staring at him again”, Genya speaks in a hushed tone, her smile audible.

“I’m not”, Y/N replies, “I simply looked over in a direction and he happened to be seated there.”

“Then why was that look on your face?” Genya raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Y/N asks, incredulous. “What look?”

“You have a certain way of looking at him”, she informs. Letting out an tired huff, Genya explains, “You look at him and it’s like you’re staring at the night sky littered with stars.”

“So?”

Genya looks down before whispering, “You love night skies littered with stars.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N stared at her food for the rest of the evening. One bite after another and her plate was quickly emptied. Her stomach felt like it would burst, but she didn’t care. Most people claim they can’t eat under stress, but she was the opposite – her appetite only grew.

“He’s standing up”, Genya informed her and despite wishing she remained impassive, Y/N’s eyes shot up to where he was sitting.

With a lump at the back of her throat, she watched him as he headed to the door. A part of her hoped he’d be decent enough to bid his farewell, to acknowledge her at least. That part of her needed to be destroyed, she decided. It’s the part of her that would ruin her mission and for what? If she truly wanted to, she could have him on his back and under her. If she wanted him, he’d be hers – at least his body would. The principle she held onto was more important and so, she swallowed thickly and looked to her empty plate in order to stop her weakness from showing.

As she looked away, the Darkling looked back at her from across the room. He felt a strange tightness in his heart and once he saw she didn’t follow him with her gaze, his heart dropped. Furrowing his eyebrows, he kept his gaze on her for a while longer – her beauty was unmatched by anything he had ever seen. White looked good on her, every color did – but black fabric hugging her curves could bring a dead man back to life.

With a heavy heart and frown etched on his face, the Darkling turned his back and left the room, the Palace, the strangest, most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on.

He carried her in his thoughts ever since. It aggravates him how quickly she’s gotten under his skin. Most of the month before their marriage was finalized was spent in petty comments about their armies or their distaste for one another. She was insufferable, maddening and entirely different from what he expected.

And yet, even then, the Darkling hoped she’d lose her patience and either leave or tell him she loves him. If she left, he’d be free of her and the shackles of an undesirable marriage, but if she told him she loves him, perhaps he’d believe her. If he knew there was ever a possibility of her loving him, he’d dare assume he might be deserving of love – because she may have dubbed him a liar, but he believes himself to be unlovable too. He never saw the point in allowing himself to feel a thing for her when it would be futile, wasted emotions on a woman sworn to hate him.

Once he was done chasing a rumor of a stag up north, the Darkling had to accept it too was a futile. Going after a legendary animal wasted so much of his time that he couldn’t even believe how foolish he’s become too. The stag must not be real after all.

Approaching Little Palace, he felt almost eager to run up to their shared chambers and see her. Even if she’d likely have a few choice words for him, he hoped he could make her blood boil just to hear her speak. He’d never admit it, but he missed someone he could converse with without dying of boredom.

“General”, Genya rushed to Kirigan who nearly growled at the distraction. However, Genya seemed distraught, panicked enough to draw his attention.

“Yes?”

Swallowing thickly, she wiped a stray tear slipping down her cheek. “It’s Y/N.”

His heart stops at the sound of her shaky voice, his jaw clenching before speaking. “What happened? Is she alright?”

“She went for a ride this morning and she hasn’t been seen since.”

Darkling’s gaze hardens as he grips Genya’s arms and shakes her lightly. “What do you mean?!”

“We sent riders after lunch, because I was worried she missed two meals already”, gasping for air, Genya’s tears made tracks, “The snow covered her tracks.”

She left me, he thought. She deemed me unlovable, unworthy. She left.

“They managed to find her mare”, Genya continues through tears, “It was decapitated and left in the woods.”

“Woods?” He frowns, wondering why she’d stray from the meadow and then he realized. He’s the one she rode into the woods with. She must have thought the woods were safe. They were at the time, only because he was with her and he’d never let any harm come to her.

“There were signs of struggle, but the snow is making it hard for us to track them.”

Releasing a visibly shaken Genya, he grunts. Biting his lower lip, he paced before her as his hand ran through his hair. She never saw him so worried, so mad before. He looked like a man walking a fine line – a line between madness and sanity.

“Call everyone”, he orders, “We must find her.”

Exhaling in relief, Genya smiled as Ivan emerged, having heard everything.

“Why would we do that?”

A pause ensues as the Darkling takes a step toward Ivan. “I haven’t made a promise in so long”, he spoke but in truth, it’s been hundreds of years since he made anyone a promise. “I promised her I’d protect her.” His voice was ragged, but controlled. “So I’m making a new promise right here, if they harm a single hair on her head, I will end them all. I will do it with a smile on face and I will bathe in their blood!”

They took her from him and he had every intention of ripping the world apart with his bare hands and for once, the thought of how far he’d go for that insolent woman didn’t frighten him. He barely knows her, he certainly doesn’t love her, but Saints help those who touched his wife.

=============================

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Part 6

[thevindicativevordan]

A Plague's Tale: Requiem Review

Finished this up over the weekend and I greatly enjoyed it, enough that I felt like writing a post about it. SPOILERS BELOW.

Gameplay-wise I love the addition of the crossbow, made it a lot easier to cross difficult sections. I do think it was a missed opportunity to not offer multiple endings based on how you played, especially given the way Requiem teases a sequel (more on that below). Hugo was clearly shown to be taking lessons from Amicia, and I think the ending would have been stronger if the way Hugo acted was shaped by how bloodthirsty Amicia became. If you went through killing as many people as possible, then I think the ending we got would have been perfectly fitting. If on the other hand you used stealth and restraint the way Lucas urged, then I think a more happier ending would have been a suitable reward. La Cuna itself was gorgeous, I haven't had that much fun exploring since Toussaint in Witcher 3: Blood & Wine. The music was amazing, I loved how beautiful and sad the main menu theme was, hell that whole menu hits hard when you realize what it's actually showing you.

It's almost funny how committed Requiem is to undoing the relatively happy ending of Innocence. Despite the loss of their father, their home, and two of their orphan friends who gave their lives to stop Vitalis, Amicia and Hugo ended the previous game relatively well off. They reunited with their mother and made a new friend in Lucas, it was even implied that maybe the Macula was dormant for good after Hugo passed the last threshold, and was able to control the rats via the power of love. Requiem takes a hammer to all of that. Beatrice? Dead. Hugo? Dead. There's no cure for the Macula and Amicia's attempts to find one only made things worse, but as seen with the story of Basil the Order would have done no better. Poor Hugo was fated to end up in Marseille and unleash the plague rats, all they did was delay the inevitable. Only Sophia of all people comes out relatively ok in the end, abandoning smuggling for legal work that will let her live longer.

When it comes to the ending itself I'm mixed on it. Hugo dying was no real surprise, after he destroyed the Red City I figured either he or Amicia was biting it at the end. Once he unleashed the rats on La Cuna I knew he was a goner. Too many innocents died because of Hugo for him to simply retire happily to the mountains with his mother and sister. Amicia herself was also very selfish, willing to overlook the suffering Hugo was unleashing because she couldn't bear to let him go after all that she had lost already, and how they bonded. It's somewhat understandable given how young both of the De Runes are, but there were a few times where I questioned if the writers realized how unlikeable the two DeRunes came off. All the same, I did empathize with her when she went to her brother's grave to mourn one last time before heading out to try to find the next Carrier and Protector, to help them the way Aelia helped her and Hugo.

Ironically she may have gotten her wish given the post credit tease. Aelia and Basil predated Amicia and Hugo by almost 1000 years or so if I recall, the only help Aelia could give was leaving some items behind for the next Protector to find. Judging by the sound of a heart monitor, and maybe high heels, it looks like the next A Plague's Tale game will be jumping to present day (are they really going to say the Macula caused Covid?). Poor Amicia lost her entire family and her quest to find the next Carrier and Protector is doomed to failure, because they won't be born until centuries later. All she can do for them is what Aelia did for her: leave some items/records for the next duo to find. Given that her story appears over I reiterate that it was a shame we didn't get multiple endings based on your playstyle. Hugo dying as an inevitability could have been balanced out with Beatrice and Arnaud possibly surviving based on your actions for example, because man the ending for Requiem is almost the inverse of Innocence. Innocence was mostly sweet with a few bitter aspects whereas Requiem is mostly bitter with a few sweet aspects. Amicia has Sophia for company, and I guess Lucas if he ever returns, but otherwise she's a total failure. Fails to save her father, her mother, her brother, fails to find the next Carrier and Protector, her story is a full blown tragedy.

Perhaps Asobo will try and give her a brighter ending if we learn her ultimate fate in the next game. Maybe she'll be instrumental in helping the next duo succeed where she failed because of some action she took during her travels after Hugo's death. I wager that she and Lucas will get together and have kids, and it wouldn't surprise me if the next protagonists are descendants of hers. Given how important family was to Amicia, that's likely as happy an ending as she could possibly get.

[hxseok-honee]

sundress || part 18

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 18] || make you feel better

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [and if you were my little girl // i’d do whatever i could do] daddy issues x the neighbourhood

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_____________________________

Saturday, 23 October, 10:13pm

“Are you feeling any better?” Y/n blinks and looks over at Yoongi while she’s dropping empty McDonald’s containers in her garbage bin. He’s standing by the window, pushing it open and fanning himself, cheeks red. It’s starting to get rather chilly outside these days, and the castle’s finally turned on its heating systems to keep the students from freezing to death as winter nears.

The problem -- for most Slytherins, in fact -- is that Yoongi’s so used to the dungeons always being cold that it takes him some time to adjust to the heated rooms above ground in the winter. Y/n’s bedroom feels normal to her, but to him it’s a damn sauna, a sentiment emphasized by the fact that he’s stripping out of his hoodie as he makes his way to her wardrobe to look for thinner pajama bottoms than the ones he’d shown up in. When he finds what he’s looking for, he’s ducking into her bathroom, calling out to her through the door.

“Answer me, nerd.” Y/n hums, having forgotten that he’d even asked her something because she’s so busy trying to decide how to survive the night with that chill coming in through the window.

“I’m okay -- Yoongi, how are you expecting me to sleep with that window open? We’ll both catch a cold.” Pulling the door open, Yoongi tosses his other pants over her desk chair and points at his hoodie, abandoned on her bed.

“Should still be warm.” He doesn’t say anything more about it, heading over to where his laptop sits on her mattress, their movie paused. “You’re only feeling okay?” He’s very nonchalant about the whole thing, but he keeps bringing it up, so Y/n knows he wants to have this conversation.

“Yeah, I��m just -- I dunno, stressed. Tired. Overwhelmed. Did I mention stressed?” Breathing out a laugh through his nose, Yoongi checks that the battery on his laptop’s still fine while Y/n reaches for his hoodie. Sliding it over her head, she finds that he wasn’t wrong -- it is still warm. It also smells like him, and she breathes in the scent easily, already mourning the moment that the material will start to smell like her instead.

She’s so busy pressing the sleeves to her nose and humming with satisfaction at the smell that she doesn’t notice Yoongi’s watching her from where he sits on the edge of her bed. When she finally looks up and meets his eyes, she sees that he’s got a fond look on his face, smiling up at her while she gets distracted by the comfort of wearing his clothes.

“Having fun?” If this were any other day, she might be embarrassed that she’s been caught sniffing his hoodie. But she’s feeling warm and a little delirious both from the food and the exhaustion of such a long day, so she’s just nodding, pressing the sleeves to her face again. Yoongi’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Okay, well -- we can finish the movie or just go to bed? If you’re tired?” Y/n shakes her head, still feeling too wound up from the day to even fathom going to sleep right now.

“Let’s finish the movie — I’ll probably fall asleep at some point.” He nods, scooting back on the mattress until he can lean against the headboard and get under the blanket, beckoning her over with a pat of his hand on the space between his legs.

“Come on — I’ll keep you warm.” Unable to deny the excitement she feels at the thought of being held while she drifts off to sleep, Y/n crawls over to Yoongi, settling with her back against his chest. She sighs contently when he wraps his arms around her, hitting the spacebar on his laptop with his foot to resume the movie before bending his knees and caging her in. She feels safe here.

They watch the movie in silence for a few minutes, Yoongi holding Y/n’s hands in his and playing with her fingers to try and soothe her with small movements. It seems to work, because she’s curling into him even more after a moment. Pressing a kiss to her temple, Yoongi whispers to her.

“Is there anything I can do?” Y/n shuts her eyes with a smile, filled with adoration. Ever since what had happened on Thursday, when she’d expressed her insecurities, Yoongi had been more attentive than usual. Keeping an eye on her and spending more time attached to her physically, he’d been very affectionate the last couple of days. She’s not even sure he’s noticed. “Y/n?” She cracks her eyes open, letting out a noise of confusion. Yoongi smiles softly, repeating himself.

“Let me help you… please?” Humming quietly, she finds it hard to concentrate, feeling herself getting lost in his warmth — he’s solid against her, strong and secure. With his heartbeat against her back, his breathing in sync with hers… it’s comforting. She knows he’ll take care of her if she asks.

“There’s… one thing… that might be nice.” He squeezes her, letting her know he’s listening. Their hands are intertwined in her lap, but she’s extracting her right hand from the pile and placing it gently on the back of his. Guiding him slowly, she sets his hand at the base of her throat, feeling him inhale sharply behind her when he gets the message.

“I thought you said you didn’t wanna talk to Rough Yoongi anytime soon.” He says it jokingly, but she hears the genuine question within.

“It doesn’t have to be rough…” Blinking quickly, he starts putting the pieces together in his head, realizing what she wants. But his silence is a little too long, worrying her, and she’s turning just enough that she can see him out of the corner of her eye.

“We don’t have to… is it because it’s Saturday?” If he’s honest, he’d completely forgotten about the fact that this would technically break one of their rules, but he’s pretty sure he’d broken a rule at that Gryffindor party not long ago. Besides, she needs his help.

“I don’t care about that… I just wanna make you feel better.”

She’s already whining, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. Moving his hand, he wraps his fingers around her throat, pausing to meet her eyes before he does anything else.

“But I need you to do one thing for me.”

“Anything.”

He purses his lips, incredibly fond of her in this moment — usually, it takes a while to break her, but she’s already given in. She’s already relinquishing control, leaving everything up to him. It’s adorable, but he’s still cautious, not wanting to go too far -- not tonight.

“You have to tell me how you’re feeling when I ask. Sound fair?”

She nods quickly, breathing out a confirmation as she leans her head back on his shoulder and shuts her eyes.

“Mm… sounds fair…”

Keeping his gaze on the side of her face, he runs his thumb and two of his fingers along the sides of her neck, feeling her shiver against him. Satisfied, he presses the rest of fingers down, palm warm against the base of her throat.

When he squeezes tight, her body reacts automatically, a shaky breath leaving her while she clings to him. Her hands ball up the material of his pants when she grabs at his thighs, and Yoongi’s shocked to see how responsive she is.

“Are you that wound up, babygirl?” She whines quietly, and he squeezes once in warning. She hadn’t answered him. “Let’s try that again, hm?”

“I’m sorry…” He watches her frown as she apologizes, her eyes cracking open to glance nervously up at him. “Are you upset with me?” Removing his hand from her throat, Yoongi brushes his thumb over her cheek, shaking his head.

“Not upset… Just want you to answer my questions so I know you’re okay.” She nods, unintentionally pouting at him while she finally responds to his question.

“I’m still just… really tense, I guess…” Dragging his fingers back down the column of her throat, Yoongi squeezes suddenly — it’s not harsh or shocking, only firm, his hand steady against her. It pulls a sigh out of her, and her eyelids are fluttering closed as she drops her head back against his shoulder again.

“Feel good?” She smiles hazily, a whispered ‘yes… thank you’ leaving her, and Yoongi can’t help but smile at how honest she is. Pressing tighter, he doesn’t say a word about the shaky moan that slips out, only wrapping his free arm around her waist and holding her closer to his chest.

“Don’t worry about anything, okay? I’ll take care of you, babygirl.” Her whine is loud, and he sees now that that’s what she needs from him -- to help her forget. To give her a break… Yoongi plans on making that happen for her.

“Trust me?” She echoes back immediately, the ‘trust you’ breathy and distracted, like she’s not totally paying attention. But she’d remembered to answer, so Yoongi knows she’s still with him.

“Want me to fix it?” She whines out a confirmation, nodding slowly. This one’s delayed, prompting Yoongi to check in on her.

“How are you feeling?” A pause, and then—

“Good… feel good… better…” Yoongi flexes his fingers, pressing down for longer this time to reward her for being honest with him. When he finally eases up, she’s gasping for breath, and he can feel her heart racing through her back — or maybe that’s his heart. He’s not sure. They’ve done this before, but not like this, so he’s getting a little nervous that what he’s doing won’t be enough to help her. But he has to be steady for her, so he’s pushing forward, hoping he can do it right.

Pressing his mouth to the shell of her ear, he’s mumbling softly to her -- it’s permission, permission to forget everything and give him control. And, even though he’s unsure of himself, it turns out to be exactly what she needs.

“Just let it all go, babygirl… Don’t think about anything but me.” He squeezes for emphasis while he says it, only releasing her when he feels her exhale deeply, going lax against him. Running his fingers gently over all the places he’d pressed too hard, wondering if he’d accidentally left bruises, he whispers to her, checking in.

“Better?” When she doesn’t respond after a moment, his heart is dropping, and he’s glancing down at her quickly, fingers going to her chin so he can turn her head toward him.

“Y/n?” She doesn’t make any move to acknowledge him, only nuzzling her face into his neck slightly. Yoongi furrows a brow, blinking through the pounding in his ears because he needs to figure out what to do. Had he gone too far?

“Baby? Hey…” Taking her face in his hand, he shakes her gently, trying to get something -- anything -- out of her. She must be able to hear the slight edge in his voice, because she’s finally responding. Just a hum, but it’s enough to have him sighing in relief. “There you are…”

“…’m sorry…” Breathing out a laugh, Yoongi works at slowing his heart rate while he responds.

“You’re not in trouble… just wanna know how you’re doing.” Y/n shifts in his arms, turning in his lap until she’s curled up to his chest, her mind fuzzy. She only nods, and Yoongi knows that’s all he’s getting out of her. But he’s gonna need more than that.

“Feel better?” She nods again, stronger this time.

“Better… much better…” He’s glad, because he’s not sure he’d be able to keep going with this tonight, still a little on edge. But as he looks down at her, he can see that she’s completely at ease, all of the tension in her shoulders and face gone now. His chest swells, proud of himself for being able to help her after all.

And then a breeze is drifting in through the open window, and she’s shivering against him. He looks over at it, relaxing his hold on her as he considers getting up to shut it.

“Want me to close the window?” Immediately, she’s latching onto the front of his shirt, holding him back. Her eyes open then, expression laced with panic. His own eyes go wide, too, not having expected her to come out of her headspace that fast.

“No-- Don’t go…” Yoongi breathes out a laugh of disbelief.

“I wasn’t gonna leave, baby…” But he doesn’t push it, only readjusting his arms around her, pulling her close again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Sliding his leg out from under the comforter, he closes his laptop with his foot, their movie completely abandoned.

Deciding he’d honestly rather risk breaking the device than letting Y/n go for even the few seconds it would take him to move it to her bedside table, he nudges the computer toward the edge of the bed, aiming for the spot where he’d left his bag earlier and pushing it off. He winces when it crashes to the hardwood floor instead. He’ll just buy a new one.

Turning to look at Y/n, he shuffles around on the mattress until they’re tucked comfortably under the blanket, Y/n’s face hidden in his chest.

“Doing okay?” He feels her nod, and then she’s lifting her head to look at him -- her eyes seem clearer now, he notes.

“I’m good now… sorry for not answering you earlier…” With a smile, he scoots down until they’re eye level with each other. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her as close as possible.

“It’s okay… I was just worried…” Y/n looks him over, seeing the lingering anxiety in his eyes. He must have tried really hard for her.

“I’m sorry, I was just… a little out of it, I guess. It felt nice, so I didn’t want to come out of it.” Yoongi nods, finally understanding what had been happening to her.

“Good… I didn’t know if it was a good thing or not that you just weren’t registering anything anymore…” He pauses, biting at his lip nervously. “It… was good, right? I did okay?”

Y/n just stares at him for a moment, wondering how he could possibly not be sure of himself after having just seen her fall apart. After having just made her fall apart. Smiling fondly, she leans in, pressing her mouth to his. It’s soft, their lips barely touching, but it’s enough to have him exhaling deeply, releasing the stress he’d been feeling.

When she pulls back, she’s smiling softly at him, but then her mind is flashing back to what she’d been worried about earlier, the feeling creeping up on her again. She eyes him guiltily, only voicing her concern when he lifts a brow at her.

“Is it okay… that I asked us to break a rule? I won’t do it again…” She’s unprepared for the wide smile Yoongi shoots her, his gums peeking through. He finds it incredibly cute how vulnerable she is, pouty and nervous.

“I really don’t care, Y/n. I just wanted to make you feel better… as long as you’re okay, nothing else matters.” She pouts again, this one more because she’s not sure how to respond, her face warming from how gently he’s looking at her, gaze full of endearment. Deciding finally to just curl up to him and hide her face in his neck again, she lies there for a moment, listening to his breathing. It’s just as comforting even now, when she’s free of the things that had been worrying her. He’s just as solid against her -- just as safe.

“Can we still finish the movie?” Yoongi snickers when she mumbles the question into the crook of his neck, shaking his head.

“Yeah… my laptop’s definitely broken, babe.”

[johnkrrasinski]

𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

Chapter 4: hell was the journey but it brought me heaven (final)

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,943

Summary: blessed with telepathic abilities since birth, you were captured by HYDRA and turned into one of their weapons to kill. after the blip, you were pardoned by the government and you were obliged to check up with dr. raynor everyday which you had no clue would lead you to the one soul you’d been waiting for.

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+) dirty talk, oral (female receiving), fingering, shower sex, happy ending.

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @ohmickeyhenry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for trusting me with your story. i sincerely hope you like it.

You sat on the front porch as your fingers flipped through the page of the romance novel you had your nose in. It was a beautiful day, the weather wasn’t too hot or too cold, perfect to spend hours escaping into a story outside. Alpine purred on the chair where Bucky would sit if he was here but he wasn’t because he was on an overseas mission with Sam and though you offered to come with him, Tony said that it would be best if you sat this one out. You didn’t take it personally, however, it was hard to be separated from him for nearly a month.

Bucky said he’d be coming home soon and though the mission kept delaying them to come home, Bucky called and texted you every day to let you know that he was alright and how far on completing the mission had they gone. You were glad that Sam and Bucky had each other while you weren’t around to take care of him because you knew that Sam was the only person who could ground him other than you.

You and Bucky had been together for nearly five months now, after your recovery in Wakanda and adjusting to the new life of being superheroes, you both decided that you wanted to settle in a more remote place. All of the Avengers had their own places outside of the compound so you thought, why don’t you get yours? You talked about getting your own place in Brooklyn but eventually, you came to a decision where somewhere in the country would be better for both of your mental beings, while also still residing in the New York area so that you’d be ready in case there are emergency missions.

Since moving to the countryside, you had felt much more at peace and you had learned more about yourself than before. You were in the middle of the process of moving in when Bucky was needed by Tony to take care of an international matter with Sam, so Tony helped call in some people to help you with your stuff.

The place you had with Bucky was lovely, it wasn’t anything big or swanky, it was simply a rural rustic home that blends woods and stones as the foundation. It had a large loft where you placed your bed, and the roof had upper windows which shed lights into the entire room. It was even more stunning at night where you could see the stars and the moon that illuminated the dark space. From the veranda, you could enjoy the beautiful view of greenery and the lake surrounding you. It was heaven, but most importantly, it was your and Bucky’s little heaven.

You’d often feel lonely living in the cabin, so you decided to adopt a cat while Bucky was away. You didn’t tell him because you wanted it to be a surprise. You named her Alpine. You’d always wanted to have a pet and now that you had your own place, you could have one without worrying it would bother anyone.

You talked to Bucky this morning and he estimated that he’d be coming home in two days, which means he’d be home by his birthday. You couldn’t think of a more perfect gift than this adorable, blue-eyed cat. It was as if she got them from her dad whom she had yet to meet. You also wanted to make his birthday and celebrate his coming home more special so you put down the book and went to the grocery store in town that afternoon to shop for the ingredients to bake a cake.

You had learned a lot of new things after you moved here, and baking was quickly becoming your hobby, so you were excited to utilize that new skill to surprise the love of your life. You spent the next day in the kitchen so once Bucky walked through the front door, the cake would be ready to be served. You were giddy thinking about the look on his face and how proud you would feel to make him happy with something you made of your own.

You were lying on your couch with Alpine by your feet, reading the book that you didn’t get to finish yesterday when you heard your phone notifying you a text had been received.

I’m outside, babydoll.

You instantly got up from your couch and put your book on the table. Your first thought this morning was Bucky would back to your arms this afternoon and you were ecstatic. You had missed him terribly and you wanted to curl up in his embrace and never let him go. He was your anchor and you were his rock, you both needed each other to get through the days. How you managed to survive so long without him was beyond you.

You chose a nice outfit, nothing fancy just a simple sundress that you feel your best in, put on some makeup and did your hair. Though you didn’t have a clue on makeup products, let alone apply them all over your face, you did spend a handful of times watching Youtube for guidance. You knew you didn't have to put all that effort to keep Bucky in love with you but you wanted to do something nice for him. For the first time in forever, you were a free woman who was allowed to make her own choices, you were going to revel in exploring them.

You opened the door and there he was, as handsome as the devil, as gentle as an angel. Everything about him captivated you yet, he soothed every nervous system in your body too. He was grinning at you like he had just won a prize and you couldn’t help but throw yourself at him as soon as the door was fully opened. “Bucky!”

He hugged you back, holding you so tightly to his chest and he kissed you as a lover would until you needed air. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he swept the hair that was falling on your face, slightly hiding your beauty.

You smiled at his flattery, “I got a surprise for you…”

“A surprise?” He looked genuinely perplexed. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s your birthday, silly. And to celebrate you coming home, of course, because I missed you so badly.”

“Sweetheart, you don't need to get me anything, you’re all the blessing I need in my life.”

“And you are mine, but you deserve more. So, close your eyes.” You ordered him like you were an excited 10 years old ready to show off her science project to her parents. He did as he was told and you took his hand and led him to the kitchen where his cake was sitting perfectly. “Don’t open your eyes until I tell you!”

He chuckled, “okay.”

Bucky trusted you wholeheartedly so he didn’t worry he’d walk into a wall or slam his hips to the kitchen counter as he was being led down to where his cake was. “Okay, now open your eyes.” He did so and he saw you standing behind the tiny dining table, near the kitchen chanting Ta-Da! Presenting a chocolate birthday cake, in the shape of a heart in front of you.

You lit up the candles that were in the shape of 106 and you brought the cake closer to him, “happy birthday, my love.”

Bucky was grinning from ear to ear, he couldn’t contain the happiness swelling in his heart. While he was on his bike, driving from the compound to his cabin-like home, all he expected was a warm shower and being tangled between the sheets with you. Since he was turned into The Winter Soldier, he no longer cared about birthdays or his age. Time felt blurry and all that mattered was his purpose in his life which is to make amends to the wrongs he committed during his winter soldier days and the few people that he cared about.

But now you were in his life, you were going to make sure his birthdays are special and that every second you both spent together was precious. “I got another surprise for you…” You walked to the couch to carry Alpine and when Bucky saw her, his eyes lit up.

“You got us a cat?!” You handed her to Bucky gently like a newborn baby and Bucky cradled her to his chest, looking like an affectionate father.

“I did. I felt lonely while you were away so I thought I’d get a pet now that we’ve got our own place and I saw her at the shelter when I went to town and she looked so adorable, I just had to take her home, Buck,” you watched Bucky lovingly stroke the cat’s ear.

“I never had a pet before…”

“I know, and neither had I so I thought, the three of us would make a wonderful family.”

“Thank you, doll. This is… This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for.”

“You’re welcome, love. By the way, her name’s Alpine.”

Bucky nodded, “suits her.”

“Now, as delicious as that cake looks, I really need to take a shower, would you mind joining me?” Bucky held out his hand for you.

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do,” Bucky took your hand and carried you in bridal style to your bathroom, which had rustic walls like the rest of the house and dark brown sink vanity with a mirror at the centre above.

Bucky put you down and you both began stripping out of your clothes. You helped Bucky with his once yours were on the hanger because you wanted to feel him, really feel him now. Once only his boxer remained, you slid the shower glass door and you pulled him, giggling like teenagers trying to sneak out in the middle of the night as he struggled to take off his boxer with the way you were pulling him.

You turned on the shower, just warm enough to soothe your nerves and help Bucky relax. Bucky cupped your face and you both began making out, the stream of water made it difficult to keep your eyes open but you always got so lost in his kisses that you could never keep your eyes open even if you wanted to. It felt like heaven to feel those lips again after a month of his absence.

Bucky lifted you and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He slammed you to the bathroom glass as he dominated your mouth, his tongue tangled with yours as his vibranium arm leaned against the glass. Bucky trailed kissed to the column of your neck and you threw your head back, giving him easier access. He bit the skin, marking you as his.

The water kept flowing down and you both forgot what you were there for in the first place. “Oh, missed you so fucking much, doll.”

“I missed you too,” you said as you panted.

“Those nude pictures you sent weren’t helping either. Each time I see you naked, it went straight to my cock. It was torture not to have you right away.” Bucky put you down and kissed your body, down to your stomach until he reached the part where you needed him most. Bucky lifted your right leg onto his shoulder and kissed the inside of your thigh as he left a love bite with his teeth there too.

You didn’t mind, you were his as much as he was yours and you loved it when he got a little rough or possessive, though you knew Bucky would never hurt you and if he did, you wouldn’t hesitate in telling him. But you loved to walk around with his marks on you, you wore them proudly.

Bucky dipped his head to your core, tasting your arousal like a famished man. He had been deprived of your taste for a month, he wasn’t going to hold back. He could spend hours in between your legs if you let him and he’d never get tired of it. Bucky licked a stripe of your slit, making you throw your head back again and moan.

He grabbed your arse to keep you standing, with the way he was devouring you, your thighs began to shake, and you would’ve crumbled to the floor if he wasn’t holding you. You tugged his hair, keeping his face close to your cunt. You couldn’t help but grind yourself onto his face and you could feel him smirking.

The way his stubble grazed your delicate skin was tantalizing, you’d tried to close your legs a few times around his head but he always held them back. You could feel your muscles tightening, but before you could burst, Bucky put your leg to the floor and he stood up, kissing you again and you could taste your arousal all over his tongue. It was erotic yet intimate at the same time.

Bucky grabbed your hips and spun you around, you could feel his stiff member nudging you from behind as you both fought for dominance with your tongues. Bucky took a fistful of your hair and lifted your head back, once again trailing open-mouthed kisses to your throat. His fingers made their way down to your clit, rubbing it in circles furiously as if you weren’t soaked enough already from the way his tongue ingurgitated you.

You whimpered at his touch, the way he always knew how to light up every cell in your body with his touch was a wonder. It was as if your body had given itself completely to him and it was going to comply with whatever his touch tells you to do. Like the way you willingly bared your soul to him, you didn’t fight it at all, let the love and passion you had for each other consume you.

“You’re dripping all over my hand, doll.”

“I need you to fuck me now, please.” You were losing your mind with the way he was stimulating you, you needed to have him inside you now.

“Anything for you, baby.”

Bucky used your wetness to lubricate his member, making it easier for him to slide in. You leaned against the glass with your hands against it as he gripped your hip with his flesh hand and your shoulder with his vibranium one. Bucky pushed himself until he was fully sheathed and he groaned, “oh fuck, I ain’t gonna last long. Missed this tight cunt so much.”

Bucky gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size, and once you told him to move, he began with slow paces. You threw your head back and leaned against his shoulder as he kept thrusting in and out of you at a faster speed. Bucky moved his vibranium arm to your hip and wrapped his flesh hand around your jaw, directing it to his face so he could kiss you deeply.

The sounds of your skin slapping were salacious. Bucky felt you clenched around him and the coil in your stomach tightened. His fingers that were gripping your waist once again furiously rubbed your clit, igniting the fire in your muscles. Your cries grew louder as his rhythm began to falter, and the dam in you broke, your squirts streamed down your thighs, clouding your brain with pleasure.

Bucky started to get messy as he chased his own orgasm. He followed you to the place of euphoria, releasing himself deep inside you, panting your walls with hot white gush. Bucky leaned his forehead against the glass as he breathed heavily with his heart thumping against his chest. His weight on your back was comforting so you stayed there for a while until you both began to come down from your highs.

Bucky pulled out of you and his orgasm ran down your thighs, following yours. You turned around to face him and kiss him again. “That was fucking amazing,” Bucky said as he cleaned you up.

“I should be the one doing that, I wasn’t the one who just came home from a one month mission,” you retorted as you watched him going down to scrub your thighs where your juices were sticking on your skin.

“Well, now that I’m here, let me take care of my girl, will ya?”

You only chuckled and eventually, you both helped rinsed each other off. Once the shower was done, Bucky dried you with a towel and carried you to your bed, which he had yet to sleep on since it got here.

Life was a funny thing. Sometimes it dragged you down to hell, making you question if you had ever committed such a heinous crime in your previous life that cost you such misery in your present. But then, slowly but surely, the journey that you had to endure, led you to your fate, for better or for worse.

You couldn’t change where you had been and what you had done, but you could choose how you were going to redeem yourself and how you were going to spend the remaining years of your life now. You didn’t know much about your future as an Avenger. Hell, you were barely an Avenger, to begin with, but eventually, when you were ready, you knew there’d be nothing too big to overcome because you had Bucky by your side to walk through the storm with.

You didn’t have the privilege to believe in mystical things such as lucky stars but you were going to thank whatever was out there for the invisible string that tied you to Bucky.

tags; @ohmickeyhenry @suitofvibraniumarmor @themaddies-obx @themaddies-obx @beminetokeep @bluemoon-icecream @bluemoon-icecream-blog @harprs @thefridgeismybestie @abitofeverythingg @wolfonthemoonwatchestvshows @julimelodi @bookscoffeandotherstuff @tanyaherondale @artisancowbells @ferxaniti @intothesoul @hallecarey1 @buckybarnesplumwhore @thefallenbibliophilequote @andiyholly @emizla @capxwinter @jevans2 @alwaysreadingimagineschick @swtltlmrvlgrl @extremelyblackandwhite