#but let’s hear it for Stormy who had one (1) storm soothed by a rain dance

[flowesona]

The Midnight Channel [1/2]

Yandere ??? x reader

Inspired by Persona 4 (2008)

“Have you heard about the midnight channel?” (Y/N) dragged her attention away from the rain drumming on the window of her classroom to see her friend leaning over to talk to her. 

“What?”

“If you look at the TV at midnight on a rainy night, you’ll see your soulmate.” Jungkook rested his chin on his hand as he spoke wistfully.

“Come on. Don’t tell me you believe in that nonsense? Sounds like someone made it up when they were bored.” (Y/N) snorted, but ceased her laughter when he didn’t seem to waver. 

“You’re kidding me?” Now, their friend Taehyung, who’s been quietly eating his lunch and enjoying their company joined the conversation to take (Y/N)’s side.

It was ridiculous to say the least. Jungkook was a reasonably intelligent guy. There was no way he could think all that soulmate hokey-pokey was legitimate, right? 

“Well, I know a friend who tried it, and he said it worked. We should try it tonight!”

“Yeah, right.” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, his lunch now forgotten as he dragged his chair closer to (Y/N)’s to help defend her side of the argument.

“Who do you think you’ll see?” (Y/N) humoured, only for Jungkook to shake his head somberly.

“Not saying. But we have to try it, I trust Namjoon to tell the truth-”

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Her friend was cut off by a sudden voice. A young man was standing next to her desk, rocking on his heels. Lunch was coming to a close and people were starting to reenter the classroom and take their seats, yet this pupil was drawn to stand by her desk instead.

“Hey…” She felt guilty for not remembering his name, letting her voice trail away.

“I heard that you’re single. And I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me?” The boy had such a giddy smile on his face it unsettled her to no end. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you well enough.” (Y/N) tried to reject him as politely as she could, but he seemed adamant. 

“Just give me a chance? Please? I know I’m not the best looking guy around, what with that idol back in town, but I promise I will treat you like a superstar!” The raising of his voice was starting to draw attention to the duo, people even peeking in from the corridor to get a peek at the drama going down. 

(Y/N) felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Sure, this boy seemed nice enough, but there was something about his smile that was so forced it hurt to look at.

“Leave me alone, I said-”

“Mr Kang, I don’t believe this is your classroom. Get out.” Before the situation could escalate any further, the student was grabbed by the scruff of his collar and pushed towards the door without the chance to say another word. The onlookers dismissed themselves, their chatter filling the halls.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

If having to deal with one clueless boy was bad enough, (Y/N) found herself being plagued by another before the day was through. Whilst Jimin had an undeniably kind heart and his softly spoken words were often what she leant on when times were tough, she wasn’t in the mood for company.

“You’re sure that you don’t want to come to my place? You know my mom’s an amazing cook, and I rented that new movie just in time for-”

“I’d rather just go home, Jimin. It’s been a tough day. Maybe another time.” (Y/N) gave her friend a reassuring smile before leaving, droplets of rain making her shiver lightly and clutch her parka over her body just a bit tighter.

Even so Jimin trailed after her, hoping to change her mind by gently pushing his umbrella into her hands so she wouldn’t get as soaked as she first expected and whilst the heartfelt gesture was appreciated, she was exhausted and not ready to deal with another person snapping at her heels.

After two minutes she stopped to talk, turning briefly to address the student, whose gaze resembled that of a kicked puppy more than anything.

“Go home, Jimin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She plugged her earphones into her ears and let herself finally breathe as she heard his footsteps slowly fading, the light rain tapping against her umbrella in a soothing manner to 

Distract her from the embarrassing scene from earlier in the day. She became so caught up in her music she ended up colliding into someone’s chest. 

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spat at her. His blonde hair was becoming matted with rain and his clothes were barely protected by the heavy leather jacket as the downpour became heavier by the minute.

“I’m sorry. Here, do you need my umbrella?” 

The boy grimaced before reaching out to take it. Before he turned away, (Y/N) heard a quiet ‘thank you’ from under his breath as she took off in the opposite direction to get home before she became fully drenched.

Unbeknownst to her in her panic, the boy was staring after her, fingers clenched so tightly around the flimsy plastic handle that it was starting to hurt.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Rumours were quick to spread in the usually sleepy town. With its only claim to fame being the birthplace of a famous idol, people clung to whatever excitement they could find, and (Y/N) had already had several people texting her to ask about the dramatic event and offer words of comfort.

As she desperately tried to cheer herself up with a cup of cocoa and the warmth of her blanket, (Y/N) was still restless. She glanced over at the TV in her room, a big enough flat screen she’d weedled her mother into buying with her only child privileges. 

“If you look into your TV at midnight on a rainy night, you’ll see your soulmate.” 

She let out a chuckle at the thought. Yet, she couldn’t help glancing out the window to see the rain pelting down, nor checking her alarm clock to see it was three minutes to midnight.

There was no harm in giving it a try, right? After all, she could shove it in Jungkook’s face when she could conclusively say it was a stupid legend.

Suddenly, as she was caught up in her thoughts not even realising that she’d been staring into the screen in her daydream, the TV crackled to life. Through the heavy static she could see a figure. 

As shadowy as it was, she could somewhat make out Taehyun’s figure, seeing as his visage had all but plagued her for the day. (Y/N) shook her head, trying to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating but the image was gone as soon as she opened her eyes, leaving her kneeling in front of a blank TV screen.

Trying to erase the questions that plagued her mind (Y/N) crawled into bed, closing her eyes to rest for a while.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

(Y/N) felt completely disgraced the next day. She could hear people whispering all around her about what had happened yesterday, how she’d rejected someone in such a cold manner. The story had flown around the school overnight, much to her dismay.

“Taehyun hasn’t turned up at school today. Do you think he’s heartbroken?” (Y/N) overheard a couple of her classmates gossiping.

“Poor guy. He just wanted a chance but she’s humiliated him in front of everyone.” One of the other girls replied. (Y/N) stood up abruptly, letting her chair fall onto the floor with a loud clang.

The noise drew everyone’s attention to her, but she just walked out trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

“(Y/N)!” She heard someone calling her name but it was white noise.

It wasn’t until there was a hand on her shoulder to stop her in her place that she snapped out of her hysteria.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Through her slightly blurry vision she could make out Jimin, his face crumpled with concern.

“I-I-I’m fine!” She choked out.

“Is it that guy who was bothering you yesterday? We can just bunk off school today and you don’t have to see him. How does that sound? Let’s-”

“Leave me alone Jimin.” (Y/N) finally said with a heavy sigh. He was sweet, and she could tell he cared, but she just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“You don’t mean that, right?” Her friend was shocked at her abruptness, when she would normally find a much sweeter way to reject him.

(Y/N) didn’t reply, turning to walk away and her herself in the library only to have her hand snatched back.

“Whatever is wrong, you know you have me, right? If you want me to fight that Taehyun boy to the death I’ll do it to make you happy.” Jimin was almost pathetic in how he was pleading for her company. “Just let me help you.”

(Y/N) just slapped his hand away.

“Leave. Me. Alone.” She snapped, leaving the rejected boy to wallow in pity as she stormed off. Once again all eyes were on her, and regret was starting to build up, but she brushed it off in her pursuit of some serenity in the library.

The library, whilst still crammed full of students studying for their exams, provided some solice. The kind eyed library assistant had led her to a corner amongst the history books, and whilst he opened his mouth to say something - presumbaly to suggest a book, or offer her a drink - he closed it again upon seeing her stormy expression, and left her in peace.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Feeling more isolated and hated than before, (Y/N) spent the evening in bed with a book Jungkook had lent her, trying to immerse herself in the fictional world rather than facing the real one. However, the rain pattering against her window reminded her of last night. Was seeing Taehyun on there a trick of the eye? Was he really her soulmate? Or was there something more to it?

With her restless mind she was still awake as the clock crept towards midnight and, unable to quell her mind and knelt in front of her cold black television screen.

Once again, it flickered to life. But this time, rather than just showing a silhouette, there was something happening.

It was Taehyun, and he was crawling away from some other shadowy figure, obscured by the strong static.

“No… you’re not… I  love…” Through the muffled sound she could hear his voice, crying out as if he was witnessing a monstrosity. Her hand almost wanted to reach out to touch him, but she was frozen in place, only able to watch. She saw a flash of his face, terrified beyond all else, before the image cut out entirely.

She leant forward again, trying to see if it would come back, but the TV stayed black.  Switching it on only showed a late night horror movie, not the scene that she’d seen before. 

Was Jungkook’s friend right about the Midnight Channel showing your soulmate? Was she mistaken to reject the eager boy? And more importantly, what was happening to him? Was he in trouble?

Trying to erase the questions that plagued her mind (Y/N) crawled into bed, closing her eyes to rest for a while.

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

Maybe it was the caffeine from doubling the espresso in her usual coffee, but (Y/N) knew from the moment she stepped out the door that something was wrong.

The fog was so thick that (Y/N) could barely see ten metres in front of her. Still she persisted, hoping that by being early she could get an extra hour of studying in before someone would bother her. There was the occasional passerby - one of the school librarians hurrying past with a heavy book bag weighing down his back, a shopkeeper with their keys in hand to open up in time, and a leather-wearing stranger on a noisy motorbike. Even with these small reminders that civilization was alive and well amidst the weather, there was still an eerie atmosphere.

And (Y/N) was right to be afraid. The fog’s density was not enough to hide the secret waiting for (Y/N) as she turned the corner. When her eyes landed on the sight she staggered back, the urge to puke stronger rising up.

There was a corpse dangling from the telephone line.

Everything seemed to blur together, from her screaming for help to one of the passersby calling the authorities in the place of the shell shocked (Y/N), to someone finally pulling her away and covering her eyes.

Her mind was static as she felt someone comforting her, pressing her face to their hard chest. The regular heartbeat helped soothe her breathing, and the scent of cologne enveloped her sense to numb the pain. 

She didn’t question the comfort for a second, relishing the warmth and protection from the sight that was sure to haunt her for the rest of her life. The sight of her former admirer, a sweet innocent student, hanging from the telephone pole.

“You’re okay, (Y/N). Don’t look. You’re safe.”

───── ⋆⋅ ☂  ⋅⋆ ─────

“So you’re telling me prior to yesterday you had no contact with Mr Kang at all?” For what felt like the hundredth time that day, (Y/N) shook her head.

“Well, as soon as you sign your statement you’ll be free to leave. Take care.” The detective didn’t offer her any consolation as (Y/N) attempted a signature with her shaky hands.

She was so ready to collapse into her bed, but there was still something tugging at her.

“Do you know about the midnight channel?” She spoke up, her voice slightly hoarse.

“Is this related to the case at hand, Miss (L/N)?” The detective had a sour grimace, his forehead creased with the stress at hand, and (Y/N) felt slightly worried about poking the bear.

She shook off the feeling.

“I’m not sure. But thank you, I’ll go now.”

It couldn’t be just a coincidence. There was some connection, and (Y/N) wanted to seek the truth even if the police force could not.

Stepping outside, she felt a weight on her chest as heavy as the fog. Somewhere in the sleepy town was a murderer. They were perfectly blended in, you could see that much. Life was going on, people briefly discussing the murder under hushed breath before discussing the more conventional gossip aloud.

Even with some unknown guilt burdening her mind, (Y/N) could slip into life again as she found her friends waiting outside for her, Jungkook giving her a warm hug and Taehyung offering her a bottle of water seeing how wearing the morning had been. 

Even as she walked home with her friends, there was still something amiss in their sleepy town. And the trouble lay closer than she could possibly imagine.

Part 2/2 coming 11/09/20

[imnotwolverine]

The Monster’s Lair - Bloody Affairs

Vampire!Henry x Belle - multi-chapter

< Chap 1 | Chapter 2 - Bloody Affairs | Chap 3 >

Disclaimer: Dark adult fairytale - injury, man hunt, skin burns 

Author’s note: Before I write my long fics I usually gather a number of things to inspire me, including poems, movies, imagery and music. Music! I thought it’d be nice to share the playlist I made for this long fic as well. In case you, the reader, would like my tunes to enjoy while reading. Also, I’ll add specific songs per chapter, to kind of “set the mood”. I hope you sweethearts enjoy this chapter, and have a lovely Wednesday!

Also. Hello 500 followers! That’s like a small village!! HOLY DAMN! 

Word count: 2.374

Reading music: Teho Teardo & Blixa Bargeld - The Beast

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

A glow. 

Was the sun rising already? With a deep frown etched on his beautiful face the monster watched the glow grow in strength, setting alight the centre of the old town. Oh no, that was no sun, it was a fire! Fire! 

Opening the french doors out to the upper terrace, he stormed out into the equally stormy weather, his eyes widened as he peered into the distance, seeing what was amiss. 

It was with his sensitive, monster-like retina that he could pick up even the tiniest of detail in a mile wide radius, like a hawk in flight. And so he watched and listened, his ears pricking as he came to the bitter conclusion that it wasn’t just a simple fire. It was hell. 

From the blazing flames he could hear the screams, desperate panicked screams, that belonged to people who couldn’t seem to escape from the certain death that was awaiting them.

The monster panicked in turn, his eyes flitting over his attire. He was too visible like this, too easily recognisable. With the fire roaring he needed more than the shade of night to hide himself from the people’s curious eyes. If anything, he didn’t want them to know who he was, or what he was. And so, with great haste, he rushed inside, picking out a large cloak that flew out behind him like a bat’s wing, large, impending and cloud-like, the heavy fabric flapping in the angry wind that flowed with him down the pine tree covered hills.

It was an advantage of his disposition, that he had such strength and speed.

Far superior to all creatures and men around, he could move faster than a hundred horses combined and rip apart logs like they were sheets of the thinnest paper. And, in this situation, it was exactly what was needed, the flames lapping around the town’s houses and church with great hunger. The old wood structures were no match - or in fact a literal match - to the doom that was impending.

Arriving at the scene, hidden in the mask of darkness, he watched. Strange. There were barely any people, most rushing out to fetch help or water. It was clear as day that someone needed to help them, NOW. And so he did. 

With careful steps he moved out into the flickering light of the flames that cast an eerie orange glow over the town square, people so busy rushing that they did not notice him. The screams were so loud they were nearly painful in his sensitive ears, and yet he didn’t back away.

Pulling his cape further over his head, making sure he remained turned with the wind so his face wouldn’t show, he rushed to one of the houses where the most desperate of cries came from.

In the sea of flames he noticed that the door had been barricaded by a fallen down floor, making it impossible for the woman and children inside to flee. Restless wails and pained cries was all he heard as he stormed into the fire like it was nothing, his flesh not feeling pain like humans do, his clothes melting around his limbs like a second skin as the flames licked, willing him to surrender.

But there was no surrender for the beast.

With mighty strength, a growl thundering through his large chest, he pushed aside the blockade, his claw-like hands instinctively reaching for the family inside, their eyes squinting in the biting heat of the blaze.

‘COME.’ He boomed, his voice so loud that the people outside could swear they heard a thunder crack in the restless skies above. And, as the family wasn’t moving, frozen in fear as they looked straight into his face, he stepped further into the flames, practically dragging the three children and their shivering mother out by their neck hair, shocked little wails flying from their gasping mouths as they were now suddenly back outside. Almost entirely unharmed.

‘THE BEAST!’ A villager screamed, pointing at the dark figure that stood out in the flames, his clothes ablaze but his stature calm. More villagers joined, turning around from their busiment to fetch water, large eyes looking in shock as they saw that poor mother with three children, tugged along by the dark creature that had risen from the flames.

‘KILL HIM!’ The crowd roared atop the loud wicker of the crying fire, women and wind. And with that, the mother managed to free herself with a panicked tug from the monster’s grasp, heavy billowing tears over her cheeks as she reached back out for her children, the monster letting them go without a fight, his gleaming eyes looking back over the crowd and seeing pitchforks being gathered.

Had he not done good? Was this his penance, to forever be hated so? With a frustrated sigh he fled the scene, the flames that still licked his body dying as he rushed with great speed up the long path that led back to his domains. And as he ran, nearly flying with the wind in his face, arms shielding himself from being seen, the skies started to cry for him.

And how they cried.

At first the rainwater was but a light spray of slow and meager drops, but as he ran further and further from the village, the larger and more desperate the showers came down, drowning with it the last of the sounds of uproar that he had left behind him.

‘Please...Belle..’ A soft voice alarmed him that someone was near, feeble and beaten down in the ditch that was now quickly becoming muddy. The monster hesitated, his flight coming to a halt as he watched the crumpled down man that sat there. Belle’s father.

Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the angry mob coming into view. Afoot and on horse, ready to chase him down even if it would be the death of them - which it likely would be might the situation truly escalate as quickly as those flames now ate up the town square.  

ARGH! How could it be so, that despite his best efforts, he just couldn’t do good? With a desperation in his still beating heart he left the poor man behind, continuing his flight back to the safety of his monsterly lair, where he’d lick his wounds. Some hurting, others mere burned flesh and tender sinew.

--

‘Come Phelippe! No horsing around now.’ Belle grumbled, eyeing the stubborn horse who shook his head in disagreement, his manes flying majestically in the stormy wind, the dark of night swallowing the large fields around them.

‘No? No?! Come on! It’s about to rain!’ She exclaimed, raising her hands in defeat as the dark bay nickered. ‘Well, very well then! I’m off. You stay there!’ She started to walk away, her torch bleeding flames as the wind whipped harshly around her, her braided hair becoming damp as the first spray of water droplets leaked from the roaring skies.

It was then the horse finally gave in, hesitant hooves following her until she felt his warm nose press into her shoulder. ‘Oh! And now you are..-’ Her smile died on her lips as she saw an orange glow appear in the far distance, the glow bright and evil looking in the unblinking dark. The village. Gasping quietly, her feet falling back to join the large horse, she tangled her fingers into its mane, hoping it would sooth her sudden disquieted mind.

Wait..was that the town hall? Was papa alright?!

--

Stay home, Belle. Stay home.

Her father had been adamant on her not sneaking out tonight - especially with the beast on the loose. Belle had begrudgingly given her consent, taking the task upon her to watch over the horses as her father was out in the town hall. And so here she stood, her hands gripping large wads of hay as she moved over the thick brown coat of the mare, rubbing down sweat, mud and rain. She had used the horse to fetch the string of other horses that had been in the back of the field, the storm now quickly gaining strength. With the horses safe and sound inside the stables, she couldn’t help but wonder what her father was up to, her eyes looking at the open barn doors that rattled nervously in the fierce wind.

Outside she saw the rain as it poured, finally, small streams of water running down the path that linked the village to the mansion of the Les Comtes.

Perhaps he was helping with the fire or perhaps the town hall meeting ran late, she thought, warily watching the darkness outside. It wasn’t very much like her father to leave her out and alone so late at night. Never. From her very first memory, father was always closeby, ever protective, though also trying his best to give her what freedom she desired to bloom into the 20-year old woman she had now grown out to be.

Old. Ha! Yes, some town folk had started saying she was old now, and if not careful no man would want her hand in marriage. She’d become an old spinster, like Miss Guinee that lived at the other edge of town in the tiniest of cots, her cough so bad that people had set bets on when she’d pass on.

But alas. Miss Guinee was a tough cookie. And so was Belle. She was most definitely not going to settle for less than..

A figure passed by. Hurried, hidden in a long shredded to pieces cloak that swished wide and wing-like behind him. Papa? Oh, he and his poor eyesight were really going to bring him in some type of trouble someday. With hastened paces she rushed to the door opening, calling for the figure as he rushed further and further up the path.

In the half dark and rain she could see him turn, a pale face catching a glimpse of the lights inside the barn. It wasn’t her father. In fact she wasn’t sure who this was. A man. And then he disappeared. Quite literally disappeared. In the blink of an eye the silhouette of the man vanished into thin air, leaving Belle quite perplexed before her attention was pulled to an uproar down wind. An angry mob approaching.

Flickering torches, angry fists, raised pitchforks, the rain around them coming down heavy from the night’s sky, it was obvious that the townsfolk were on the hunt. First in line being the Old Master’s son Ismael.

‘Belle.’ He called, halting his grey steed besides the beauty who still stood there in the door opening, just outside of the rain. He offered her a self-confident smirk from the dark of his hood, the stable lights shining on his handsome, square jawed face.

‘Sir Le Comte.’ She said, not all impressed by his haughty behaviour, her doe-like eyes instead looking out at the madding crowd that was coming closer on foot.

‘Oh, Ismael to you, dear Belle.’ He smiled, before realising she was not watching him, but the townsfolk that were nearing. ‘Say Belle, please do not tell me you are left to fend for yourself! No lady should befall such a faith!’ He said with a false tone of care, making Belle sniffle in bemusement.

‘And you are here to save me with your ..mad crowd?’ She eyed the farmers, butchers and bakers that now joined the two of them, surrounding Ismael and his trusty steed. All huddled away in heavy wet cloaks, torches in hand. 

Belle clutched her shawl around her chest, shivering in the suddenly rather cold wind and splash of water that blew inside the barn opening. The people looked enraged.  

‘Tis in fact the beast, we have seen!’ One of the villagers roared.

‘The beast?’ Belle looked back at Ismael, confused, the man shrugging as if it left him unaffected, not in the least bit worried - ever the hero, huh?

‘Indeed. Have you seen any odd beings roam about the stables, by any chance? And where is your father anyw-?’  -  ‘You mean you have not seen my father?’ Belle interrupted, her eyes flicking back to study the faces that glimmered in the torch lights. Angry, bewildered people. Familiar faces. But none resembling her father.

Where was he?

‘Belle..oh Belle!’ Ismael exclaimed with an exasperated sigh, coming down from his horse and stretching out his hand to cup her cheek with his wet, gloved hand. ‘Now, please know that I will personally keep you safe, if must be. That old man..’ He huffed. ‘..is clearly quite inapt for the job.’

‘You have not seen father..’ Belle gasped, then ducked away from Ismael’s hand to walk into the crowd, into the rain, calling for Arthur, but failing midway as Ismael grasped her wrist just a bit too tightly, spinning her back around.

‘Say now Belle. You have not answered my question, darling dear.’

Belle frowned and looked back at Ismael, his hand digging painfully in her skin. ‘The beast? Oh no..I have seen no beast come through these parts.’ She said, hiding the knowledge of one strange man just passing by.

‘Hmm..then perhaps he has taken the east road!’ Ismael roared, letting Belle go from his iron grip, his hand now gesturing one of his man to stay behind. ‘And as for Belle. I shall return my sweet, and for you alone I shall skin and bleed that beast, make it a fine hide for beneath our feet!’ He stepped closer and brushed an unwanted thumb over her grimacing face before turning back towards the crowd. 

‘LET US HUNT!’ He cried, not noticing that Belle quietly continued to ask people for the whereabouts of her father.

None knew.

None until the crowd had left, except for one brusk looking man that quickly rushed inside the stable, to hide from the roaring storm. It was clear that he was not even thinking for one single moment to “protect” Belle as he had been instructed. 

Belle stepped back in the door opening, peering out in the dark until she noticed a sole figure appearing from the shadows. With slow heavy steps he came closer, the barn lights finally revealing him to be her father, his hand clutched over a bleeding wound on his temple.

‘PAPA!’ She cried in horror, rushing over to him, back in the on-going downpour. ‘Papa..what happened?’ She said in more of a hush tone, looking over her shoulder to see the townsfolk return to the main road, the mob taking a sharp turn to the east, their torches slowly fading back in the darkness, an angry glow of the fire at the townsquare still roaring in the background.

Belle sighed in quiet despair. It appeared that even the crying heavens couldn’t stop this bloody terror.

‘Come papa.’ She muttered, offering him her support. ‘Let us get you inside.’ Her eyes quickly traced back at the north road, to the exact spot where she had seen that strange man. And she couldn’t help but wonder.

Had that been..the beast?

--

Chap 3 >

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General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss​ @tumblnewby @magdelen69​ @thereisa8ella​ @mary-ann84​ @darkbooksarwin​ @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly​

Vampire!Henry Tagsquad: @elinesama​ @i-cant-remember-my-old-login

If you want to be added to or removed from my tag lists, shoot me a message!

[chipper9906]

The Best Laid Plans - Chapter 10: A Slice Of Life

LINK TO CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Kylo Ren/Rey, Ben Solo/Rey

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 7,578

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress

Chapter Preview: 

The air left Rey’s lungs in a big ‘whoosh’ as she slammed down into the dirt, her body trying to decide whether the dull ache in her spine or the boot that had just connected squarely with her stomach was what was causing her the most pain right now. She let her eyes shut with a pained groan, waiting for her brain to stop rattling around in her skull before she dared to open them.

“You’re fast,” Kylo’s voice came from somewhere above to her. She peeked an eye open to see him leaning over her, that smug look of authority plastered to his face. “-But you’re relying on that too much. Strengths are good, but you show too much of it to your enemy and they’ll find a way to turn it into your weakness.”

Rey weakly glared up at him through the pain, taking his leather-clad hand once he offered it to her. She groaned again, the stretch of being pulled up to her feet making the muscles in her abdomen twinge in protest. “Yeah? You know what else my weaknesses are? Being kicked in the stomach…”

Link To Fic

OR

Click Below To Keep Reading

Chapter 10: A Slice Of Life

The first time Kylo got to physically step foot on Ahch-To wasn’t the best impression of the island. Rey had pictured him walking off his ship to be greeted by glorious rays of sunlight as he took his first step onto the radiant emerald green grass of the island, staring out to the churning ocean atop the rocky terrain; taking in the absolute beauty of this island.

Instead, they breached the atmosphere of Ahch-To and found their ships immediately battered by torrential rain that fell so heavy, they could barely see five feet past their windshield. The torrential rain came with equally severe winds that made for a very rocky landing indeed, nearly throwing her off course when she had reduced the engine's power.

Kylo had trailed behind her in his own ship, not feeling very comfortable with leaving it behind on Jakku (and if Rey was being honest, she didn’t really fancy another trip to Jakku to drop him back off, and then having to fly back to the Resistance base after). She did briefly worry as she landed whether Kylo was going to be able to safely land too in these harsh conditions, but he proves to be a capable pilot as he comes to a near-perfect landing beside her, with only a few shakes and corrections as he comes down.

There wasn’t much time for taking in the sights of the Island. The rain hit hard against Rey’s skin as she stepped off the Falcon, watching Kylo step from his ship with a hand raised to his face as a shield against the pouring rain and ice-cold wind that whipped around him. Rey offered out a hand for him to take, which he took without questioning – not like they would be able to hear a word from each other in this howling wind anyway. Rey led the way as they ran towards shelter, continually having to wipe their eyes clear to have any chance of being able to actually see where they were going.

It took uncomfortably long for the rocky huts to come into sight, picking up their pace as soon as they laid eyes on them. There wasn’t a caretaker in sight, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Only they were crazy enough to be outside in such a storm. The two of them ducked through the blanket that acted as the door, letting out a sigh of relief as they escaped the rain. Kylo could still hear the rain pounding against the stones that made up their shelter, and he hoped they were built sturdy enough that this storm wouldn’t collapse it.

“This wasn’t quite the paradise I was expecting,” Kylo was the first to speak, eliciting a snort of laughter from Rey that surprised them both.

“Yeah, well, let’s just hope this rain doesn’t last the whole time we’re here,” Rey threw her soaked bag next to the ‘bed’ (by which she means a slab of rock that she has to pile blankets on to make it at least somewhat comfortable to sleep in). “We should probably get a fire going, or we’ll freeze.”

Kylo turned around to look to the pit in the center of the room Rey had gestured to - nothing much in there but a pile of burnt ashes from its last use. “We don’t seem to have much luck with storms, do we?”

Rey exhaled sharply from her nose in laughter, bending over to pick out a few logs she had stored in here before she left. “Perhaps the Universe is sending us a sign? It doesn’t seem to like when we’re close together.”

“I’m used to having obstacles thrown my way. I’ll believe the Universe doesn’t want us together when I get struck down by lightning.”

“Don’t speak too soon,” Rey threw over her shoulder as she stood. “With our luck, that’s exactly what will happen.”

Rey dropped the dry logs into the fire pit, bending back down again to spread the logs out until she was satisfied with how they were laid out. Kylo had taken a seat atop the bed, shaking his drenched hair loose of excess water.

“Really? You’re going to sit on the fresh blankets with soaking clothes?” Rey asked him in disbelief as she stood from the fire pit.

“There isn’t really anywhere else to sit,” Kylo pointed out, struggling to pull off his drenched gloves that were sticking to his skin. “And I’d rather not sit on those pots again. They were very uncomfortable.”

Rey rolled her eyes at him, her back to him as she rummaged through the shelf for the handy little flint and steel contraption Luke had gifted her which she used for starting fires. “You’ll be happy to know they were destroyed by another storm the night Luke caught me and you in my old hut. Turns out that fragile pottery doesn’t last exceptionally long in a storm when the shelter they were in has been blown apart.”

“You say that like it’s my fault,” Kylo noted her bitter tone. “I wasn’t the one who made your hut explode.”

“Well, you managed to upset Master Skywalker so much that just the sight of you made him lose control and tore my hut apart, so it’s kind of your fault.”

Kylo half-heartedly glared at Rey as she walked back over to the fire pit. “He didn’t like that we were getting close. I can only imagine what he thinks of us now…”

“I think he’d be glad,” Rey thought out loud.

Kylo raised an eyebrow in his surprise. “You do, do you?”

“He begged me not to go to you that night, but… something changed whilst I was gone. I don’t know what, but… he was a different man when he faced you on Crait.”

“Not different,” Kylo disagreed. “The man you met here, that wasn’t my uncle. He had become nothing more than an old man full of regrets. A shell of the legend he once was. When he projected himself onto Crait to face me?” Kylo paused briefly to chuckle humorlessly. “Now that was Luke Skywalker. He was back, if only for a short time.”

Rey held the flint and steel contraption over the wood, ready for a good few frustrating attempts of getting a spark out of this thing when an idea, or more specifically a memory, came to mind. She discarded the contraption to the side for a moment, unclipping her new saber from her belt and spinning the ignition wheel. The two of them squinted at the blinding golden light that filled the murky darkness of the hut, blinking rapidly to try and clear their vision. Kylo felt an odd sense of pride swell in his chest as Rey thrust her saber into the fire pit, knowing exactly where she had got the idea to do that from. Within seconds, the intense heat of the saber caused the logs to catch alight, a small plume of smoke within the pile quickly turning into a roaring fire within a few seconds.

“That’s much more efficient,” Rey said happily, stepping away from the fire to get away from the blistering heat. She collapsed down onto the bed next to Kylo, where they were a comfortable distance away from the fire that it bathed them in its soothing warmth.

“You’re sitting on the blankets with wet clothes,” Kylo said mockingly, shuffling closer until his shoulders were rubbing against hers.

“You’ve already ruined them,” Rey pointed out, leaning into his warmth. “Besides, I’m the one who started the fire while you sat and watched. I think I can decide whether to ruin my own blankets or not.”

“I’m not sure that argument works, but sure,”  Kylo said, playfully nudging her shoulder. He looked into the flickering flames of the fire, then let his eyes wander up towards the rocky ceiling of the hut. “This is a familiar sight, huh?”

“I’m almost expecting Master Skywalker to burst in here any minute,” Rey replied with a twinge of sadness. “And now, you’re actually here. Not just over the Force, but right next to me.”

 “Wasn’t it raining that night, too?” Kylo asked, turning his head to the side to face Rey. “I swear I can remember the sound of rain outside the hut…”

“Oh, it was definitely raining. I remember,” Rey backed up his claim. “I was already soaked from that awful cave. I got out and was immediately drenched by the rain. I had only just begun to warm up next to the fire with you when Master Skywalker blew the hut apart…”

The sky had already begun to darken when they were racing to the huts, and with the constant rainfall and stormy clouds outside, it both looked and very much felt like nightfall. Rey stifled a yawn behind her hand, the excitement of the past few days catching up to her.

“You’re tired,” Kylo’s words seemed poised as a question, but it was more of a fact than anything.

“I’m fine,” Rey waved him off, fighting back another yawn. “It’s still early.”

“You don’t have to pretend. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to get much more use out of today with this weather.”

“I suppose so… It just feels like a waste of the day.”

“Think of it this way – we can either stay awake now with nothing to do because of the storm, or we can cut our losses and head to bed, wake up early and, hopefully, will be greeted by good weather for the early start to the day.”

Rey supposed that Kylo’s suggestion did make the most sense… and she’d be lying if she said the idea of curling up under her blankets and falling into a deep slumber wasn’t an alluring thought…

“Alright, alright, you’ve won,” Rey gave in. “I’m too tired to argue, anyway…”

Even as Rey slipped under the blankets, shifting to get comfortable on the hard rock, it didn’t cross her mind the thought of where Kylo was going to sleep. She had just sort of assumed that, with the change of the relationship, they would be sharing the bed. Instead, she was left surprised as Kylo tucked her into the blankets, which in itself was an action more tending and caring than she ever expected from him. Then, he had planted a soft kiss on her forehead and, with a hushed and whispered farewell, Kylo had disappeared behind the curtain door and slipped out of the hut.

At first, Rey had worried over whether Kylo had decided to sleep on his own ship for the night, as it would have been incredibly dangerous and stupidly foolish to try and make it back to his ship alone, in the dark, in the middle of a storm. One wrong step on those slippery stone steps and Kylo would find himself tumbling down that sharp and jagged mountainside and into the churning, raging sea below. It didn’t matter how powerful Kylo believed he was – that was pretty much a guaranteed death sentence.

Her worries are for naught however, as past the curtain covered window high on the wall of the hut, she can see a faint flickering light emitting from one of the other huts. It seems that Kylo had claimed one of the huts for his own – Rey hoped it wasn’t Lukes, as she was sure that would be enough for Master Skywalker to return as a Force Ghost to chase Kylo out of his old home.

Rey couldn’t help but question why Kylo hadn’t stayed for the night. At the very least, they could have shared the same hut, couldn’t they? Though, she knew Kylo had that thing about sleeping alone, and she understood that – she still wasn’t entirely used to sleeping with company yet; and especially knowing what happened to Kylo with Luke… maybe it was just that. A new place, where his Uncle had lived for years. He was probably just feeling uneasy about it and felt more comfortable finding his own place to rest for the night. It wasn’t anything to do with her.

Right?

* * *

The sky above was littered with stars, twinkling lights that seemed to pulsate with energy. Rey wasn’t sure why, but she wasn’t questioning how she had seemingly teleported from her bed to the outcrop along the cliffside. Nor was she questioning the fact that it was quite clearly deep into the night, yet the sun still shone high in the sky, replacing the usual cold chill of the evening with a pleasant warmth that brushed across her skin.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Rey.”

Master Skywalker stood next to her, his long grey robes flowing elegantly behind him as the warm breeze blew past. His aged face looked much more refreshed than the last time she had seen him, less… tired. He hadn’t walked up to her, sat cross-legged on the rockface. He had just appeared there. And yet, for some reason, her mind found this completely normal.

“Not in the slightest,” Rey answered her old mentor, an overwhelming feeling of calmness washing over her.

“Sounds about right,” Luke retorted after a brief lull. “Well, he hasn’t gone to seek out the cave just yet. I suppose that’s a good sign.”

“He knows that I’d kick him off this planet if he did something like that. I don’t think he’d risk it.”

A small smile hitched at the corner of Luke’s lips. “And you think he’d go willingly?”

“I wouldn’t give him much of a choice otherwise.”

Luke chuckled deeply, still staring out to the horizon. “Good. Glad to know someone’s still protecting this old place. I just hope you bringing him here won’t be a mistake.”

“I don’t think it will be,” Rey answered honestly. “He’s changed, Master. He really has. Not much, but… He’s not the man I first met in those woods on Takodana.”

“Oh, I know,” Luke responded, and Rey raised an eyebrow at the oddly playful tone to his voice. “Quite the change… Though, I imagine it would have been much harder to be locking lips with you when he still had that mask on.”

Rey didn’t need to see herself to know her cheeks had turned a bright red, able to feel the warmth that comes with the rush of blood to her skin. She glanced over to her former master, who looked to be smothering a knowing smile. “You know about that?”

“I am in your head,” Luke pointed out. “I know all you know.”

That’s when it clicked, as she stared up at the shining sun amongst the dark backdrop of night. This was a dream. Nothing more than that. “Is there much point in me asking you for advice then? Surely I’m just… asking myself?”

“You could see it that way,”  Luke answered. “Or, you could see it as me appearing to you as the non-biased thoughts in your mind; visualizing them in a way that your… affection… for my nephew no longer clouds your judgment.”

Rey didn’t respond for a while, just looked out to the flickering sun reflecting along the oddly still waters of Ahch-To. Luke turned his head just slightly to glance over at her from the corner of his eye, speaking when he got no response. “Was there something you wanted advice for?”

“I’m not sure,” Rey said quietly, keeping her eyes trained forward.

“I think there is,” Luke countered. “And I think you don’t want to ask it because you already know the answer. And you don’t like that answer.”

“Yeah?” Rey said somewhat snarkily, proving Luke’s point. “And what is that?”

“That you know this plan of yours isn’t going to work.”

Rey took a deep breath in, slowly turning her head to face Luke. He had turned his head too, eyeing her cautiously. “You don’t know that. No one knows how this could end up.”

“Do you really think questions won’t be asked? Maybe the first time, the first fight, you might get away with it. But what happens in the next fight? You two clash, and… you both just walk away from each other? You’re going to keep doing that over and over again, until the end of the war? If it ever ends?”

“It’s just a temporary solution,” Rey brushed him off. “We’ll find another way.”

“Is that other way somehow getting Ben to turn back to the light?”

“You never know-,”

“And neither do you,” Luke interrupted softly. “You have a lot of faith in him. A lot more than others care to give. Rey, I’m not doing this to… to spite you. I want you to think carefully about your devotion to him.”

“What’s there to think about?”

“The worst possible situation. What are you going to do if this plan doesn’t work, Rey? What if, the Resistance win the war? Or, even if the First Order wins the war? Will you be able to kill him, if it comes to it?”

“Yes.” Lies.

Rey knew the silence after his answer meant that Luke knew she was lying. “Have you ever fallen in love, Rey?”

Rey’s breath caught in her throat, her heart thudding hard against her ribcage. “No.”

“Then you can’t answer that question truthfully,” Luke had stepped closer to her now, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “The bond you two have, it’s like no other I’ve ever seen. Not in my lifetime. And who knows, maybe things will go the way you want them to. But you have to ask yourself - is it worth the pain, the heartbreak, of falling for someone who you may have to kill?”

“I’m not giving up on him,” Rey said determinedly. “I’m not giving up on him, like so many others have. There’s good in him. I’ve seen that good. I’m better, with him. I’m not letting that go… I’m not letting him go.”

“And that’s your decision,” Luke said calmly. “And now you know how you truly feel about it. You’ll always have these doubts, Rey. It’s good to have those doubts, it means you’ll be more prepared for that worst-case scenario. There’s not much I can say to you, other than to be careful.”

“I will ” Rey promised him. “We will.”

Luke’s hand slid away from her shoulder, an unusually fond look on the older man's face. “And you keep hold of your faith in him, Rey. Someone has to.”

 * * *

The dawn of the new day brought with it clear skies painted with a gorgeous palette of reds, oranges, and yellows. Quite a far sight from the stormy gray clouds that encompassed the sky last night.

Rey stretched happily in the glow of the rising sun, pulling her arms behind her back until they gave a satisfying ‘pop’ and ‘crack'. She felt a small smile etch across her face at the sight of a family of porgs flying by, their tiny wings flapping hard to keep their chunky bodies in the air.

“Those things are incredibly annoying,” Kylo's voice came from somewhere off to Rey’s side, turning her head to see him leaning against the doorway of the hut with the curtain pushed over his shoulder. He pushed off from the wall once she caught sight of him, striding over to her side and joining her in watching the little bird-like creatures fly by.

“They were squeaking outside my window all night. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them, either.” Kylo continued, weakly glaring down at a particularly young porg that had landed by his feet, which had begun curiously sniffing around the new visitor of the island. “What even are these things?”

“Master Skywalker called them ‘Porgs’,” Rey answered, bending down and reaching out a hand to the brave porg that had started kicking at Kylo's boots. “They’re native to the island, perhaps even the entire planet. Harmless, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“A few of them snuck into the Falcon,” Rey told him with barely contained laughter. “Chewie will attest that it's much more difficult to pilot a ship when you’ve got a few of these guys walking around the console and screaming at you.”

“Hmph. I'll make sure to keep my shuttle sealed, then...” Kylo concluded, bending down to match Rey's stance, and then began to curiously study the creature. He placed a hand inside his robes, pulling out a small, silver foiled packet. Pulling it apart revealed a dry, crumbly and unappetizing biscuit of some sort that Rey assumed to be the First Orders equivalent of rations. Kylo crumbled the biscuit into minuscule pieces in his fist, and then offered out his hand to the Porg.

Predictably, the Porg immediately lost interest in Rey's hand for the one with food in it. Rey chuckled as the Porg happily shuffled over to Kylo's outstretched hand, barely giving the food a few cautionary sniffs before promptly shoving its face into the crumbs and chowing down.

“This feels weird,” Kylo informs her, the look of discomfort on his face reflecting his words.

“Let’s just hope they don’t have toxic saliva or something like that,” Rey said, receiving a half-amused, half ‘wait, you’re joking, right?’ look from Kylo.

The Porg made quick work of its impromptu snack, chirping happily up at Kylo once the last of the crumbs had been picked clean from his hand. Kylo cautiously pushes his hand toward the young creature, pausing when it squawked in surprise at the movement. When it didn’t move away, Kylo gently touched his fingers to the Porgs silky feathers. The Porg made the closest thing to a ‘purr' Rey thinks she's ever heard from them, smiling brightly when the Porg closes its eyes in apparent bliss and leaned further into Kylo’s touch.

“I think they like you,” Rey said.

“Apparently the secret to most creatures hearts is through food,” Kylo replied. “I think I’ve heard a similar saying to that, once.”

“Sounds familiar,” Rey agreed. The Porg seemed to have decided it was done with being petted, hopping away from Kylo's touch with another piercing squawk, flapping its wings up at them before taking off into the skies to join back with its flock.

“Does that mean it'll work on you too, then?” Kylo turned his head to ask her, still crouched down low to the ground.

“Hmmm...” Rey played along, tapping a finger under her chin as if in deep thought. “I suppose it depends on the food.”

“I'm afraid I don’t have much culinary experience,” Kylo stood up straight, offering a hand for her to stand. “Though I have some combat experience to share if you want it?”

Rey grinned up at him, clasping her hand in his and let herself be yanked up to her feet. “Now that seems more like it.”

 * * *

It wasn’t too long after that Kylo offered her his hand again. Though, not quite as nicely.

The air left Rey’s lungs in a big ‘whoosh’ as she slammed down into the dirt, her body trying to decide whether the dull ache in her spine or the boot that had just connected squarely with her stomach was what was causing her the most pain right now. She let her eyes shut with a pained groan, waiting for her brain to stop rattling around in her skull before she dared to open them.

“You’re fast,” Kylo’s voice came from somewhere above to her. She peeked an eye open to see him leaning over her, that smug look of authority plastered to his face. “-But you’re relying on that too much. Strengths are good, but you show too much of it to your enemy and they’ll find a way to turn it into your weakness.”

Rey weakly glared up at him through the pain, taking his leather-clad hand once he offered it to her. She groaned again, the stretch of being pulled up to her feet making the muscles in her abdomen twinge in protest. “Yeah? You know what else my weaknesses are? Being kicked in the stomach…”

“You gave me an opening. I took it. You expect others to go easy on you in combat?”

“Fine,” Rey wiped at the back of her sleeves, trying to get off some of the dried mud that was also likely caked across the back of her shirt. “What do you suggest I do otherwise?”

Kylo raised a hand to point at the extinguished saber in her hand. “See that weapon you’re holding? Use it.”

“I am using it!” Rey snapped, frustrated by his whimsical teachings. Seemed he had more in common with his Uncle than she thought…

“You’re using it as a weapon,” Kylo replied, like that helped in the slightest. Of course she was using it as a weapon, that’s what it was! “That saber is more than a weapon, so don’t treat it as such.”

Kylo flicked the ignition switch to his saber, the main blade bursting into life, followed by the side blades a few moments later. He held the saber loosely in his hands, pointed down towards the ground. “What’s in my hands right now? It’s not a saber. I’m not treating it as such. It’s as much a part of me as I am myself, as the Force is within me. It’s an extension of my body. It’s not just a weapon; it’s my shield, it is was what anchors me to the Force, it is me. And I shall treat it as such.”

Rey glanced down to her weapon, squeezing her fingers tight around its well-worn hilt. Her saber had once been her staff, the only weapon she had to defend herself for most of her life. She knew how to use it – as a staff. It wasn’t a staff anymore, though. She had to stop thinking it was.

Rey flicked the ignition wheel to the side, an eruption of golden light spilling from the saber. She brought it up in front of her, peering at Kylo over the searing light. She nodded her head once, signaling that she was ready. Kylo’s demeanor instantly changed, planting his feet and spinning his saber around in his hand to hold the blade diagonally across his body. But he didn’t move past that. He stood still, eyes focused on her like a hawk, the crackling of his saber mixed with the steady hum of her’s keeping the air alight with the sound of pure power.

She shouldn’t move first. She had learned that from him, actually. But the way Kylo was stood as still as a statue, staring her down like that… It was unnerving, and also kind of distracting…

Kylo finally moved, and Rey had to clench her muscles so tight to prevent herself from flinching. He took a single step to the side, slowly shifting his body to the right of her. Rey instinctively stepped to the left, moving in the opposite direction as to keep Kylo straight in front of her at all times. Kylo nodded appreciatively at her, and she knew she had done something right. Perhaps she should rely on her instincts more often. They have to be there for a reason, right?

Kylo may have relied mostly on his strength, but he could move fast when he wanted to. One second, he was crawling along at a snail's pace as he circled her, the next he was charging at her with booming strides, the red glow of his saber growing brighter and brighter in a split second. He swung at her with his saber, but instead of slashing along diagonally like Rey was expecting, he had suddenly swung his saber up behind him and forced it down with considerable force. Rey only had a second to switch her position, holding up her saber above her head just before Kylo’s saber would certainly slice her in half. Her forearms and shoulders jolted with the force of the hit, sliding away to Kylo’s side and flinging her saber down to deflect his saber away from her. They both turned at the same time, though Rey was quicker, swinging her saber horizontally. Kylo didn’t deflect the hit, instead ducking down just in time, the ends of a few strands of hair sizzling away as they connected with her saber.

This was… more intense than she was expecting. They weren’t actively trying to kill each other. At least, she wasn’t trying to kill him. But a few of these swings sure were cutting it close… Then again, it wasn’t like they would be able to ‘play it safe’ if… when they’re forced to fake fight in front of everyone else. It needs to look as realistic as possible if they want to make it work – and they can't do that without taking a few risks.

Kylo was back to his feet in a flash, pushing into her space with his lightsaber held close to his chest. Rey brought up her own saber, flinching away from the sparks that flew off from where they connected, the mix of yellow and red light almost blinding. Rey’s feet were planted to the ground, but it didn’t matter. Kylo had the weight on her, and the force of him pushing against her was immense. No matter how much she tried to push back against him, he wouldn’t budge in the slightest; she may as well have been trying to push against one of the stone huts. Inevitably, she had to step back to avoid falling straight back down on her back again. Then another step. Then another. And another. And then she was dangerously close to the cliffside, the crashing waves below seeming like a hungry creature snapping its jaws as it awaits its prey.

Rey couldn’t step back any further - unless she wanted to take her chances with the ocean and sharp rocks below. She only hesitated for a moment before stepping off to the side again, giving one last push to get Kylo’s saber out of her reach. As Kylo spun to face her, she kicked out a leg just as he had, hoping to connect somewhere on his body to give her an advantage. Instead, she found her foot frozen in the air, Kylo’s hand-held outstretched with a knowing smirk on his face. With a pull of the Force, Rey found herself tugged in his direction. As her foot came back down to the ground, she swung her free hand to try and disorient him – not many people expect a fistfight between two Force Users with their own sabers.

Except for Kylo, apparently.

He caught her attack once more, though with his hand this time, Her hand was engulfed in his, and Kylo twisted her arm painfully until she was spun around, her arm pinned to her back. Rey dropped her saber to the ground in a mixture of shock and pain, the saber extinguishing the second it had left her hand and landing in the mud with a soft ‘thud’.

“You’re too predictable…” Kylo leaned forward to speak softly in her ear, his breath tickling the back of her neck. “You speak too much of your actions with your body… One look and I can see your every move…”

Rey hoped to prove him wrong by surprising him with a backward kick. She was the one proven wrong however when her leg connected with the solid muscle of his thigh as he jutted out a knee to block her attack. In a flash, Kylo had forced his entire weight down onto her until her legs had given out, landing face-down in the mud with a pained grunt, her arm twitching uncomfortably from being held unnaturally for so long.

“Told you things would be different when I wasn’t injured.” The gloating tone in Kylo’s voice made the sting of losing all the more painful.

Rey jolted her body to try and push him off her, but Kylo didn’t move at all. “Get off me,” She growled up at him, and just like that, Kylo had sprung up to his feet and off her back. Rey winced as she brought her arm back around to her front, pushing herself up from the mud and onto her feet, ignoring the hand that Kylo had offered to her.

Kylo’s mouth thinned at the obvious agitation that rolled off of Rey like waves, dropping his hand away and watching her with worry as she once again had to wipe the mud off her clothing. “I don’t want to be so hard on you, Rey. I just want to make sure you’re ready.”

“By teaching me the way Snoke taught you?” Rey snapped back at him, the mention of his old mentor making Kylo tense up. “I think I’m starting to understand why you’re so pissy with the Galaxy now…”

“That’s not…” Kylo had begun to argue, but the argument died away the second he saw Rey rubbing at the arm he had pinned behind her, a clear look of distress flashing across her face as she prodded at her arm.

They could both feel the anger and frustration just… melt away. Kylo stepped closer to her, placing a hand on her arm with a touch so gentle, she almost didn’t feel it. It was hard to stay mad at him – not when she could already see from the look of his face how much he was tormenting himself over what he had done. She didn’t need to search inside his mind to know that.

“Are you okay?” Kylo rubbed a comforting hand down her arm, the soft touch almost soothing.

“I will be,” Rey answered truthfully. Injuries such as these would be gone after a good night’s rest, that she knew from experience. “Just need to take it easy for a bit.”

Rey sighed in her frustration, dropping her hand away from her sore arm with a shake of her head. “It’s... You know what, you’re right.”

That was the furthest from what Kylo was expecting for Rey to say, and he was sure the look on his face reflected that. “I... am?”

“You shouldn’t go easy on me. You can’t. If I’m expecting people to believe that I can single-handedly take on you, who has years more experience than I do, then... I need to get better. And that’s not going to happen if you treat me like I’m fragile.”

“But I can treat you like you’re not my enemy. It's... more difficult than I expected to get out of that mindset, especially during combat.”

“No, no it's best that you do.” Rey countered him. “You’re going to have to treat me like your enemy when we're out there, and I'll have to fight back like you are. The only way that’ll happen is if you show me here. At least then I'll be prepared for...”

“The real fake thing?”

Rey groans, turning around to scoop up her saber from the ground and curtly stuff it back into the satchel sat snugly by her waist. “Why does it have to be so complicated with us...”

Kylo attached his saber back to his belt after seeing Rey put away hers, a small sad frown etched on his face at the equally distressed frown on Rey's. “Because it's us. Sure, it'd be nice if it’s easy. But easy doesn’t always mean it's better. Easy would mean we would never have crossed paths. And if that’s the case, then I don’t want ‘easy’. Give me this. Give me us. And I'll find a way to make it work.”

Rey smiled warmly up at him, stepping towards him and burrowing her head into his chest. Her arms came up to wrap around his waist the same time his came up to rest across her back, snuggling into the warmth of his body, protected against the cold chill of the wind.

There was something about knowing how determined he was to keep their relationship alive that gave Rey pause. It was different. He was different. Master Skywalker, or, her mind - she still wasn’t entirely sure what that was – had been trying to convince her that this wouldn’t work out. But seeing him now… This wasn’t Kylo Ren, was it? That man would never have pressed his lips to hers as softly as he had on Jakku. That man would never have looked like a kicked puppy after hurting her – he probably would have gloated about getting a shot in on her. So yes, this certainly wasn’t the same man.

But was it Ben Solo?

Well, she supposed that was the question.

“Come on,” Rey pulled out of their embrace, keeping her hand clasped securely in his. “Better not waste the rest of the day, right?”

Kylo looked around curiously at the island at this, scanning for any semblance of a task they apparently were required to do. His eyes landed back on her, arching a brow in questioning. “What else is there for us to do?”

Rey rolled her eyes at him, tugging at his hand to try and lead him down the somewhat slippery path ahead of them. “Afraid it’s not like back on your ship where your soldiers come to your every beck and call.”

“…Which means…?”

“Which means… I’m guessing you want to eat at some point today?”

“I… assumed that was a given?”

Rey snorted, feeling a slight blossom of irritation curl in her gut. Seems that some people never know what it’s like to go hungry… “Well, you want to eat? We need to catch our meal.”

“…Catch?”

 * * *

 “Ah. This explains that fish incident…” Kylo stood with his leading foot as close to the edge of the cliff as he dared, peering over at the plunging drop below. “Isn’t there someplace more efficient and less hazardous to fish from?”

“This is the only place Luke showed me.” Rey shrugged her shoulders at him, grabbing hold of the ancient wooden spear/vaulting pole hybrid from the cliffside. “I assumed this was the only place this species of fish came to feed.”

“And… how exactly did my Uncle teach you how to fish?” Kylo’s eyes glanced from Rey to the spear she held in her hands, trying to formulate how the two will go together.

“A bit like this.” Rey planted the spear down hard into the sea, waiting to feel the hard ‘thunk’ of the spear hitting the sea-bed below. She gave it a few experimental twists to make sure it was secure and had no chance of slipping. Just as she prepared herself to run and vault, her feet moments away from launching her forward, Rey could see the lightbulb appear over Kylo’s head, and the realization of what she was about to do truly sunk into his mind.

“Rey,-“ He tried to voice his displeasure – but too late. Rey took a few large, booming strides before launching herself forward, leaning her weight down onto the pole, which groaned and splinted under the additional weight as she was propelled through the air.

“Rey!” Kylo could only watch with mouth agape, already picturing the ways she would drop down into the ocean, or the pole would give way, or she’d slam into the other side of the cliff-face – unable to slow herself down.

He only let himself relax marginally once Rey gracefully reached a ledge on the other side of the cliff, the smooth descent in speed no doubt due to the aid of the Force. Even from here, he could see her amused grin, clearly entertained by his worry over her. He could already tell this girl was going to be the death of him…

Rey pulled the ridiculously long pole out of the water, focusing down at the water churning below, her tongue barely peeking out of her mouth as she scanned the water with all of her concentration. In a flash, she brought the spear down hard, and could feel as the spear moved first through the light resistance of water, then felt as it pierced through the thick, hard scales of the poor, unsuspecting fish that would become tonight’s meal.

A few minutes later, and after another mini heart attack on Kylo’s part as she returned the way she had came, with the extra weight of the fish, they were headed back down the path towards the huts, the fish she had just caught hung over her shoulder.

They had only made it partway down the path when Kylo came to a standstill. Without much thought, he had pushed Rey behind him and yanked his saber from his belt. Although, he had restrained himself enough not to ignite the saber just yet, focused on whatever threat he had perceived down the path – which Rey could not see from behind him.

“Ben, what-,” Rey shoved him out of the side, which wasn’t an easy task in of itself – she had already seen from that awkward encounter just how much of him was muscle. Her eyes landed on a familiar gaggle of creatures down the path, chattering away with one another as they hauled bags of who knows what along with them.

“Ben, you can relax.” Rey placed a hand atop his saber, pushing it back down to his side. “They’re not a threat.”

“What are they?” Kylo asked, not yet willing to put his weapon away.

The caretakers of the island had spotted them now, also coming to a standstill at the sight of the two of them. Their chattering had become louder, more excitable – quite the change from the usual hostile mutterings she hears from them whenever she is in sight.

“They’re the caretakers of this island,” Rey told him, gesturing to the small beings ahead. “They help to maintain the island, make sure everything is in order. Tending to the animals, the crops, making sure the huts aren’t damaged. You know, stuff like that.”

This seemed to appease Kylo, who steadily began lowering his weapon back down to his side. Though, he had to fight the urge to draw his saber back out again when the so-called ‘caretakers’ dropped the heavy looking bags to the ground and hurried over to them as fast as their little legs could carry them. In only a few seconds, the caretakers had surrounded Kylo, who looked wide-eyed to Rey, not knowing what in the Force was happening.

“Uh…” Kylo said awkwardly as the caretakers crowded around him. They poked and prodded incessantly at his clothing, more of that exciting chittering coming from their lips as they conversed amongst one another.

“I think you’ve piqued their interest,” Rey tells him, voice straining as she fights back laughter.

“Should I be worried?”

Rey shrugged at him. “Suppose it depends on if they figure out who you are.”

That didn’t make Kylo feel any better.

“They don’t get many visitors,” Rey pointed out somewhat sadly. “Before Luke, it had been so many years before a Jedi had stepped foot on this island. Luke was all they had for a long while, then… then it was just me.”

“I’m not a Jedi, though.” Kylo pointed out. “They’re the caretakers of the island, right? Here to serve the Jedi that live here? That’s not me.”

“You’re as much as a Jedi as I am,” Rey argued, and quickly continued when Kylo had opened his mouth to argue back. “In fact, you have had years more training than I have. I wouldn’t be surprised if they can sense that within you; the power, the history… Or… maybe they know you’re of Skywalker descent…”

“Maybe…” Kylo agreed, his voice a soft whisper in the wind. He glanced around intriguingly at the caretakers, taking note of how they seemed to give Rey a wide berth as they moved around him. “They don’t seem to care much for you, though.”

“Ah, well…” Rey felt her face begin to flush red. “We didn’t have the best of introductions…”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning… I destroyed some property of theirs – by accident!”

Rey could tell that the small twitch just under his bottom lip meant that Kylo was struggling to keep a straight face – but he was doing a pretty damn good job of it. “Did you at least apologize?”

“I tried!” Rey insisted. “There’s kind of a language barrier here, you know! I’m fairly certain I’m somehow managing to insult them even more…”

The caretakers had finally begun to calm down, no longer tugging at the silky material of Kylo’s cape. A few of them had puttered away to go and recollect the bags they had dropped down the path, whilst the others had stood back and were watching Rey and Kylo as they spoke. Maybe they did understand more than what they had led Rey to believe…

“And you’re scolding me about politeness? You? Kylo Ren?”

“I’m only impolite to those I need to be.”

“Oh really?” Rey’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “So who are you polite to?”

“You.”

Rey clearly wasn’t buying it.

“In my defense, you make it very easy for me to make fun of you.”

“Uh-huh,” Rey’s tone made Kylo feel rather nervous. “And who else is deemed worthy of Kylo Ren’s politeness?”

“…My mother?”

Rey’s bark of laughter startled one of the retreating caretakers so much, the bag it had been carrying slipped from their hands and hurtled down the rocky cliffside into the ocean below.

Rey could already tell this grudge of theirs had now been extended…

[writingmask]

In the Rain (McHanzo Week 2017, Day 1)

Prompt: Day or Night

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1485

Summary: Hanzo seeks some quiet alone time. He finds company instead.

[AO3]

Watchpoint Gibraltar was a busy place. Illegal though the new Overwatch was, there was still plenty of activity within its walls. With agents rushing to and fro from training to missions and back, and even downtime being filled with something or other (usually preceded by “hey check this out” and immediately followed by a dressing down from the good Dr. Ziegler), peace and quiet was rare.

But Hanzo had figured out the one single moment when the base was as quiet as the dead. That moment occurred in the wee hours between night and morning when the rest of his fellow agents were asleep, or at least confining themselves to their rooms. Not being much of a sleeper himself, Hanzo relished the hour or two of solitude. His metallic feet clicked and echoed in the empty hallway as he made his way towards the kitchens for a cup of tea. Thunder sounded, distant and almost gentle through the thick concrete of the walls. A quick glance out a window towards the cliffside saw rain pattering against the glass and rocks.

Hanzo felt his shoulders relax; he enjoyed storms. The thunder soothed his soul, reminding him of the dragons beneath his skin. Were he not certain it’d trip some sort of alarm and disturb his coworkers, he’d allow his charges the freedom to dance in the sky. He felt them stirring beneath his skin in longing and had the sudden sense that it probably wasn’t his decision to make. The dragons would do as they would do; much like cats, dragons tended to think of orders as suggestions.

With a chuckle, he continued about his business and soon had his cup of tea. Steam plumed from the mug warming his hands, and feeling content, he took his prize to the porch of the garden patio overlooking the sea to watch the rain in peace. The dragons murmured quietly, and he calmed them. They could fly when he was safely outdoors. No one needed a repeat of last month’s antique lamp situation, he reminded them firmly. Begrudging agreement answered, though there was an image of his brother’s own dragon in the middle of that particular mess and a sense of great unfairness.

The sound of soft music filtered among the rain, interrupting Hanzo’s silent deliberation. He froze on the threshold of the patio, wondering who was up this early and whether or not he should turn around and find somewhere else. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his coworkers, but he treasured these quiet moments, and most of the other agents were bombastic at best.

“In the twilight, I see them… Blue eyes cryin’ in the rain… When we kissed goodbye and parted.... I knew we’d never meet again…”

He relaxed against the the doorframe at the sound of a rough voice over what he could now identify as a guitar. It figured McCree would be up on a night (morning?) like this. There was no need to flee for further solitude; McCree was one of the few people Hanzo didn’t mind sharing his eventide peace and quiet with. He sighed and made himself comfortable, content to listen. He hadn’t heard this particular song, though he caught the message of lost love easily enough. It was an oddly hopeful sounding thing considering its lyrics.

“Some day when we meet up yonder… We’ll stroll hand in hand again.... And if Hanzo doesn’t come out and sit by me instead of lurking in the door… I’ll be a sad, sad man…”

Hanzo jumped at the sudden switch before laughing and picking his way around the mess of chairs and potted plants towards McCree. “You are ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but that’s why you like me,” McCree retorted, beaming up at him and beckoning at the chair next to him. Hanzo took a seat with a smile and a shake of his head as McCree continued plucking his fingers across the strings of his guitar. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Rarely.” Hanzo turned his eyes to the sky, watching lightning flash above them. The sky looked so close, comfortingly filled with dark, roiling clouds. It obscured the moon and stars, but Hanzo had always found clear nights eerie and empty, a reminder of loneliness. Better to have the clouds as a backdrop for the world. “What about you?”

“Heard the thunder and figured I’d come take a look since I wasn’t doin’ much else,” came the easy reply. By now Hanzo knew the man well enough to hear what he didn’t say. A bad night, then. Or dreaming. He understood. It was something they had in common.

Hanzo settled back in the chair, letting rain and guitar fill the easy silence between them. McCree didn’t seem inclined to resume singing; a shame, though Hanzo had absolutely no intention of letting McCree know that. He felt the tension from the earlier day drain from him, and a small smile formed on his face as he sipped at his tea.

When his brother returned from the dead and extended an invitation to join an illicit group of “heroes,” a night like this was never included in his imaginings. All the same, he couldn’t help but feel thankful. After everything he’d been through, that he’d done, there was something… Cathartic about being able to sit next to a close friend and watch the rain.

He hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off until his left arm twitched with a definite sense of exaggerated patience. The guitar stopped suddenly, and Hanzo opened his eyes as twin lights solidified into the forms of his dragons sitting on his chest, both bearing a questioning, almost begging look on their translucent faces.

“Uh… Hanzo?” McCree’s voice was soft, as though he was afraid he’d scare them away. Hanzo supposed that was a fair reaction; his dragons weren’t quite as sociable as Genji’s. He glanced aside and saw a look of wonder cast in the blue glow of the dragons. Hanzo felt something soften deep inside as he committed that expression to memory. He wasn’t sure why, but it was important. He’d have to contemplate it later when his dragons weren’t imploring him for permission.

He sighed with a grin as he scratched their bearded chins. “Very well,” he answered their silent pleas. “Go ahead.”

A rush of joy echoed from them as they pushed away in a gust of wind that made McCree clasp his hat tight to his head, throwing themselves into the sky to chase each other and weave in and out among the clouds in intricate patterns that rivaled the lightning they danced around.

“Well now ain’t that a sight…” he heard McCree breathe. Hanzo turned, and saw the cowboy still clutching his hat and gaping at the dragons in awe. He watched him for a time, feeling inexplicable pleasure and the dawning delight on his friends face. “Do they do this often?”

“Not as often as they’d like,” Hanzo answered, resettling himself to keep an eye on the lights in the sky. “But it’s safe enough for now.” He saw McCree shake his head out of the corner of his eye, and the guitar sounded once more.

“Y’know,” McCree started contemplatively, “I don’t think you’ve ever told me their names. They do have names, right?”

Hanzo frowned. Had he truly been remiss in actually introducing his dragons? He supposed there were several excuses-- he’d been alone for a long time and the dragons were need-to-know basis, there wasn’t enough time between work, etc.-- but he also supposed none of those excuses mattered at the moment. “That is Inju,” he said, pointing, “And that is Denki.”

McCree went silent for a long moment, and Hanzo thought that was the end of the conversation until he spoke up again. “I know my Japanese is a bit rusty, but don’t those translate to ‘ribbon’ and ‘electric?’”

“I was five,” Hanzo said sharply as heat flooded his face. At the time, he’d thought they were very apt names. After all, they looked like sparking ribbons when he was a child. McCree snorted and stopped playing as he chuckled. Hanzo did his best to appear unamused. “It’s not funny, McCree.”

“No need to be embarrassed,” he chortled in reply, elbowing Hanzo. “It’s cute! I can just imagine lil’ you running around with your dragons!”

Hanzo’s blush spread as he elbowed McCree in turn. “Just play your guitar, cowboy,” he said with as much dignity as he could manage.

“As you wish,” McCree said with a snicker as he took up the instrument again. He let the matter drop as he turned his attention to his music, though Hanzo had the feeling he hadn’t heard the last of McCree’s amusement. No matter. He could handle a little teasing, if it came from McCree. Hanzo relaxed once more, letting his earlier contentment return as he and McCree watched the dragons dancing in the stormy night sky.

[ryujin-zanba]

chapter 3, sorry it’s late~ as always i’d like to shout out @imagine-some-fluffy-asks  (*´∀｀*）

tw; for panic attacks & very mild suggestion toward previous thoughts of suicide ((yikes this sounds like it cant possibly be happy right??)) the good news is,, actual appearance of reader finally!!  ( ＾▽＾)

ch 1, ch 2~

The feeling comes back to his feet when his heart starts to pound and his breath comes in short pants. Clearly his body knows he needs to get out of here right now before he makes a scene. People are already staring; he can feel their eyes on him, and so he finally acts and pockets his phone before darting out of the rental shop and doing what he does best: running. He runs as fast as he can, faster than he’s ever run in a game, and he keeps going and keeps going and keeps going until he is so out of breath that by the time he has to stop, he doesn’t know where he is. The streetlights are sparse here; it isn’t as well illuminated as the high streets, and even though it is dark there is usually a lot of traffic, but not in this place. ‘What neighbourhood is this?’ He wonders to himself, panting before he wipes the sweat off his brow and looks around keenly for a road sign or something. There’s a huge open expanse across the road. It’s hard to make out exactly, but judging by the fence that encircles it and the closely planted greenery, he’s near a park. He doesn’t think he’s ever been here before, but he recalls something that brings him comfort, and he’s already heading over there to find a bench, thinking about the picture you sent him with the owl. He sits heavily and hunches, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. Having practically run away from a breakdown, he’s feeling pretty exhausted, and also cold without a jacket and just his school shirt on. He rubs his arms anxiously, looking around in the bleakness for any sign of direction to home, but he really doesn’t know this place. He could be one street over from his own house, or he could be half the city away. With no sense of direction, he does the sensible thing and takes out his phone. His battery is low, but that isn’t the most imminent problem.

Rather than searching GPS maps, he finds himself opening the message from his ex… His eyes sting even before he begins to read it again and he knows perfectly well that the words won’t have changed, his partner won’t have thought twice or texted, ‘hi,’ telling him that it’s all a cruel joke but they still love him and want to be with him. That doesn’t stop him from wishing for it though. He runs his middle finger over his bottom lip thoughtfully as his index finger rests in the perfect divot under nose and his thumb frames his chin, and slowly his hand comes to cover his mouth as the lump in his throat starts to waver under the pressure of a sob that he desperately bites back. 

The relief of running away is so very short-lasting, and he’s crying again now, even after all that. Loneliness is hardly an unfamiliar feeling to Ebumi, but this is a kind of pain that has coupled itself with his most bitter emotions, and it is making them stronger than they’ve ever been before. 

He really could do with a cigarette right about now, he thinks. The pain is unbearable, even to the point where he wonders, for just a brief second, about something he is sure he’d talked himself out of years ago.

But who is he living for? Who would miss him? He has nothing. He is nothing, and he’s convinced he won’t find anyone to love him the way he loved his only partner. As if God himself is telling him just to do it, the heavens open and it begins to rain, soaking the poor lost boy in seconds. He’s grateful though. With the sound of the falling sky and no one around to hear him, he can cry his eyes out, where the tears will be invisible in the raindrops, and his broken, pleading voice will be drowned out by the clattering of heavy downpour on concrete. Maybe he’ll get washed away; swept up by a flood and swallowed by a storm drain, he hopes anyway. His phone is dead now, and he is so cold on this bench in the darkness and the wetness, but he simply doesn’t care, and he almost thinks he’s slipped out of consciousness when he hears it. “Ebucchi!” Someone calls out, louder than his harrowing thoughts and stronger than sound of the rain. “Jesus Chr— how long have you been out here?!” You exclaim. Your voice is coarse and almost chastising with panic as you reach him. You immediately take off your coat and wrap it around the listless boy, but it isn’t until you crouch in front of him and hold his arms firmly, gazing up at him with bright and brilliant eyes even in the darkness, that the blond actually sees you, and begins to cry harder as he throws his arms around you. “Come on sweetheart, we have to go inside right now,” you instruct, guiding him to his feet and keeping a strong arm around him as you march him back to your apartment across the street. The difference from cold, howling, stormy weather to the peaceful, dimly-lit ambiance in the safety of your house is almost overwhelming for Ebumi, and he stumbles a little on his way over the threshold. You catch him with ease, and hold him up. “How long were you just sitting there for?” You ask, your voice drenched in pity just as he is drenched in rainwater. You speak softly though, able to communicate sympathetically now that you’re out of immediate danger and in the solace of your living room. Ebumi can’t reply; he’s too tongue-tied trying to stop himself from crying in front of you and feeling like an idiot. It’s quieter here and compared to how he howled outside along with the wind, it’s hard to rein it in. “It’s okay,” you assure him, sitting him down on the couch and snatching two towels and a blanket out of the nearby basket of freshly dried laundry. They’re still faintly warm, and it’s nice for him when they replace the heaviness of your damp coat. “Sweetheart, we need to get you out of your wet clothes or you’ll get hypothermia. I’ll go and run you a bath while you warm up, okay?” You reason with him, slipping his open school shirt off his shoulders and attempting to lift the hem of his undershirt that is plastered to his body. “No!” He suddenly cries; his cold, trembling fingers desperately gripping your hands. “Don’t make me take it off— p— please don’t!” He wails, starting up into full hysterics again. “You can do that, angel. You can do it yourself,” you promise, rubbing up and down his arms to both soothe and warm him. “I won’t undress you, sweet pea, you can do that bit. But you need to take off these wet clothes or you’ll get sick.” The appeal of such cherishing, kindly worded insistences and terms of endearment seem to soften him a little, because he nods in understanding, but then he looks at you almost helplessly and shakes his head immediately after. “I can't— t— take— it— off,” he sobs, hiccupping between breaths as he struggles to even get the words out. “Why not sweetheart?” You sympathise, every ounce of patience and understanding that you can fathom swimming in your gaze. “It's— gro— it’s ugly! It’s t— too— they didn’t like it! They said it’s not— normal!” He begins to cry, stumbling over himself as he covers his face and breathes erratically, his hands running into his hair as he tugs at his dyed tresses and fails to keep the wretched, straining sounds of a sob inside. You frown at this, starting to get an idea of why Ebumi is suffering such a drastic attack.

He’d kept it quiet at first that he’d started dating someone, but he became far too proud of the situation not to celebrate, and soon word spread when he began boasting how lucky and how in love he was. Everyone was happy for him; seeing a wild card like Ebumi, who usually had terrible luck with getting anyone to consider him romantically, now in a serious relationship, was genuinely adorable and something you were all eager to support. That was until you met them. When his partner showed up to a rugby match, Ebumi had begged to be put on so that he could show off to them, but it was hard for anyone but him not to notice that their interests weren’t on how well he had played, or how many tries he had scored, but in the stoic captain who had little interest to give them. From there onward Ebumi started telling stories that he laughed at and regarded with good humour, but for those not blinded by love, it was clear that his partner was not a kind person, and their affection for the blond seemed to be motivated largely by gifts and persuasions. You have to remind yourself not to let your fingers dig in as you gently support his elbows, but thinking about how badly Ebumi must have been treated is absolutely heinous. You can’t let yourself get mad though, not now. This is a time where you should focus on making things better… you can tackle his ex later… metaphorically and, at this rate, literally.