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rosenclaws · 2 months ago

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Come back (erased part ii) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Logan doesn't remember you but he can sense you. He can tell you were someone important so when the team hatches a plan to find you he's the one leading the charge.

warnings: she/her pronouns, violence, killing, blood, reader gets hit/threatened, mental torture, injuries, logan goes feral, illusions.

wc: 3.5k

link to part 1

a/n: Part two is here!! Finally omfg im sorry this took so long. I hope this is a good part two i had a fun time writing the angst and stuff. It maybe ended a little darker than I meant but oh welll. We love some angst. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

The sound of the grandfather clock echoes in Logan's ears. The faint sound of students walking around the halls, playing outside. All drowned out by the clock. The heart necklace sits in his palm, his rough fingers tracing the shape over and over again.

When Logan had gotten back to the mansion he was bombarded with questions. All about a person he had never heard of. He grew angry and confused, wondering who they were talking about. It wasn't until he saw the look on all their faces that he realized something was wrong.

Memory wiped. He was fucking memory wiped again. Charles tried to explain it all but his brain went fuzzy. He tried to restore them but whatever you had done was too powerful. Only faint distant feelings. They tried to jog his memories with pictures but nothing worked. Whoever you were you were, you and him were close.

He's got a look on his face that he doesn't even recognize. One of pure adoration. The stories they tell, it was like hearing stories of someone else. He went through his room. He could smell this faint vanilla scent. The same one from the motel room. It was you. He was with you. But just who are you?

He turns the heart around in his hands. It’s faintly familiar. He closes his eyes and tries to wrack his brain for anything. Just something. There's a gaping hole in his chest, a sense of dread and something lost. A surge of anger takes over him as he shoves the necklace back in his pocket. He feels helpless and confused and he fucking hates it.

They're planning something in Chuck's office and they kicked him out. Why he doesn't know. They're planning a rescue for you and apparently he was the most important person to you so why wouldn't he be in there. Even if he doesn't remember. He should be in there. He stands up and barges through the doors, not caring anymore.

"Tell me what the hell is going on. Now." He stands with his arms crossed, a scowl on his face.

"Logan..." Jean starts but he brushes her off.

"I don't fucking care if I don't remember her just fucking tell me the mission." They team exchange looks and Logan resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's not a child. Whether he remembers you or not you were important to him and to the team. He needs to get you back.

"The mutant group, apparently she knew of them. She used to work with them years ago before any of us knew her." Charles explains and Logan listens. His hands tightening into a fist.

"We believe that she went after them for reasons we do not know. But what we do know is that they're dangerous. More dangerous than what she remembers." He can feel somethings off. The way the team shifts in their seats. The way Ororo won't even look him in the eyes.

"Logan, we think they have her." Scott says slowly.

"So we go find her."

"It's not that simple-"

"No it really fucking is that simple." Logan growls.

"You all talk about her like she's the heart of the fucking mansion so why am I the one who seems to care the most right now! I can't even remember her!" Logan slams his fist hard onto the table it almost breaks.

Why aren't they as worried as he is? Why don't they seem to care? Silence casts over the room but slowly everyone nods, agreeing with him.

"We leave in 15." He says with such severity that no one argues. Logan turns and leaves. Ready to come and find you.

The jet engine hum is the only sound inside. Everyone is quiet. Waiting. Normally Logan hates flying but right now he's too focused on getting you back. His eyes are closed as he tries to pull anything from his head. The faint sound of laughter, the feeling of warmth, the smell of vanilla. All of it was right there. Locked behind a door he couldn't get through. He feels someone sit in the seat next to him.

"What." He growls as he turns the necklace in his hand around and around.

"Are you okay?" It's storms voice. He sighs and opens his eyes.

"Just fine." She's quiet for a moment before she decides to talk.

"We're going to find her Logan." She says with a confidence he just doesn't have.

"You and her, I've never seen two people more meant for each other. She made you happy and you made her feel less alone." He wishes he remembered you.

He really does.

He can't think of all the moments he's been told about or the pictures that have been taken. He doesn't know what it was like to love you or to be loved by you anymore. It kills him. If he was happy, if you made him happy, then he's lost it all. Why would you take that away? From him and from you. Why couldn't you trust him with this?

Even though his memories are gone he can feel this sense of worry building in his chest. He needs you to be okay. He needs to protect you. Fuck he doesn't even remember you but that deep primal urge is still there.

"Five minutes out. Everyone brace for landing." Logan tucks the necklace into his suit, keeping it close to his heart as he unsheathes his claws and waits for landing. He will find you. There's no other option for him.

Your whole body ached. After leaving Logan you tracked down Mack and his gang but they had the one up on you. New, powerful mutants. They already knew you were coming the second you had the thought. They ambushed you. Attacked you and rendered you useless. They should have just killed you but Mack wanted to keep you. To lure your team out as a trap.

"They aren't coming." You hiss as he stands in front of you. He's crouching down and grinning.

"I don't know sweetheart, my sources tell me there's someone on the team who is quite fond of you." He brushes your cheek and you recoil in disgust.

"Get your fucking hands off me." He chuckles and one of his followers hit you hard in your leg.

"Feisty. Tell me, is that because of Logan? Did he rub off on you?" Your blood runs cold. If they do anything to him.

"Don't touch him." You lunge at Mack but you're restrained. to the ground. Mack presses his foot onto your throat and his smirk turns into something dark.

"You're funny. Tell you what." He puts more pressure on your neck and you start to see dots in your vision.

"When the Wolverine gets here we'll make him watch you die...and then kill him." Mack laughs and another hard blow to your head sends you into darkness.

You can only hope that Logan stays far, far away from this.

He can hear them. Fucking idiots not even trying to hide. They're bragging, laughing. Well they won’t be laughing for long. Logan’s claws gleam under the moonlight as he stalks like an animal.

The plan was to create a diversion while a rescue team goes in to get you. He wasn’t exactly know for his subtlety but no one wanted to argue him being the one to find you. It was a one man rescue team.

The sky rumbles and a loud explosion from far away leads the mutant group away. Logan springs into action. He takes out the few bodyguards around camp with ease.

He finds you alone and unguarded. A sense of relief washing over him as he bends down and scoops you up in his arms. Though he can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. That this was too easy.

“Logan?” Your voice is quiet, broken.

“Hey, we’re gonna get you out of here.” He gently holds you as he looks for a way out.

“No.” You say. Your voice stronger than before. Confusion washes over him as you push him away. The injuries on your body seemed to disappear as the world fades around him.

“You think I want you to save me? I ran away from you Logan. Couldn’t you get the fucking hint?” Your words spit like venom. You were not the person he thought you were.

“It was all a lie, a cover.” His claws come out, teeth baring as his anger grows. But then he catches a whiff of someone unfamiliar. He hears the faint calling of his name.

“Yeah?” He walks closer to you. A taunting look on your face. Without warning he swings his claws right next to your face.

“Tell him that it will take more than a weak illusion to fool me.” Logan whispers in your ear.

Slowly the world he thought was reality melts away. Your tied up, held by force by one of Mack’s followers. Had he given in and swung at you he would have killed you. That must have been their plan. He looks to the side to see a body with three claw marks on the ground.

“Well, you’re smarter than I thought. Well done Wolvie.” He hears a slow clap behind him.

”Fuck off bub,” Logan growls as he holds up his claws. Ready to pounce. He hears the rustling around him. He’s not alone, they’re hiding, waiting.

“It’s a shame really, we would have gotten along great.” Mack smirks as Logan grows angrier.

“Fat fucking chance.” Logan lunges at Mack but he’s tackled to the ground. Held down by some sort of force he can’t fight.

“You may be physically strong but let’s see how you do when someone fucks with your mind. Just like she did.” Logan struggles baring his teeth as he tries to fight out of whatever hold they have him under.

“Stop!” You cry out. Your voice is strained and tears are falling down your cheeks.

“Mack please, just leave him alone.” You fight out of the grip on you with all your strength. Falling to the ground roughly. Your hands are still tied behind your back as you struggle to get up.

“Please don’t hurt him.” Your desperate.

Mack stands up crouches over you. He grabs your face roughly, digging his nails into your face tightly. Logan growls when he sees you wince in pain.

“Aww so cute.” He taunts and throws you to the ground.

“The question is which one of you has the biggest hero complex hm? You left us because you thought we were wrong, evil. You wanted to play hero.”

“What we did was wrong Mack. We hurt innocent people for our own good.” Logan stares at you and you can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eyes.

You can’t bare to see that look of nothing. He doesn’t know who you are and its your fault. But this is for the best. You can get him out of here and he can walk away from you without the pain.

You feel a sharp pain as Mack slaps you hard. “We were surviving!” He yells.

“Why should we care about the world when they don’t care about us!” He takes out a pocket knife and you tense up.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Logan roars and Mack just grins.

With a snap of his fingers one of the other mutants starts to crush Logan. It was a subtle pressure at first but he could feel the discomfort. They were sinking him into the ground. They were going to bury him alive. You can see a flash of panic. He hates that suffocating feeling. So reminiscent of his nightmares.

“Mack please, we were family once.” You beg as you watch Logan struggle. You can’t let them do this to him.

“Stop please!” Mack grabs your face and makes you watch.

“We were but you picked a new family. Now you can watch him suffocate.” Your eyes meet with Logan’s and you start to cry. He’s afraid. Its your fault. This is all your fault.

“I’ll stay! I’ll stay and help you again just let him go!” You cry out. The weight is lifted off Logan and he scrambles to breathe.

“I promise. I won’t fight and I won’t run. Just please, leave him alone.” Mack thinks for a moment, its a tempting offer. Your powers are strong and he was never able to find anyone quite like you.

“No! Logan shouts, he can’t let you do this. Not for him.

“You got yourself a deal. But if you ever try anything. We’ll hunt him down and kill him. Then the rest of your little family.” Your eyes flash with fear and you nod.

Logan’s heart twists as he sees the broken look on your face. You’re condemning yourself to a torturous life for him. When you look at him he feels a horrible feeling. He longs for you. Your eyes are full of a love he’s missing from his life. You love him and he can’t even remember what it was like. Did you calm his nightmares? Keep his deepest secrets? Did you know all his faults and choose to love him anyways? He needs to know. They pick him up and force him onto his knees.

"Tell your team to stay away." Mack wraps his hand around your neck, his knife pressing against your skin, taunting Logan.

"Logan...I love you and I'm sorry." Your voice is raspy as you choke out the words. He needs to know. You smile painfully as Logan just looks at you.

"Go on, run away Wolvie." Mack snarls.

Even in pain your eyes are full of love just looking at him. He was your everything. You love him so much you're willing to sacrifice yourself, your happiness, all of it for him. How? This kind of love...he's never felt this before. He may not remember it all with you but fuck he wants to know what its like. He wants to learn what it was like to be loved by you. He can't let you go. Not when his future happiness is in your hands. The rage builds. He will not leave you. Doesn't matter how much blood will be shed tonight. He will save you.

With a loud roar Logan unsheathes his claws and with all his willpower throws off the weighted feeling. He's like an animal, snarling and growling as he drives his claws into your captors. There's no mercy in the way he takes each and everyone of them out. They try to stop him but when they realize their efforts are futile they start to run.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is cold, void of any emotion as he digs his claws deep into someone chest. Mack's confidence fades as he watches Logan's rampage. He grabs you and tries to run. Dragging you along the forest floor.

"Logan!" You shout and he instantly turns around.

On all fours he uses his claws to launch himself towards you. Chasing Mack down like prey. It's really a pity how fast he catches him. At another time he would have enjoyed playing with him, toying with his fear. All the pain he's caused, not just your pain but the innocent people he's ruined. He deserves to pay.

"Not so tough now huh?" Logan stabs him right through the heart.

When he's sure he's dead he stands up, blood soaking his claws. His head turns to you and you freeze. You know he won't hurt you but apart of you worries this is a trick. Another one of Mack's illusions just to fuck with you. Logan gently bends down and cuts you free.

"He's gone sweetheart." Tears start to fall down your cheeks as he scoops you up in his arms.

"I'm sorry I'm so sorry." You babble over and over as Logan holds you tight. You fit just like a puzzle piece into his arms. This feels right. This feels like home. The sound of footsteps sets him on edge but he calms down when he sees the familiar faces of his team.

"Where the hell were you guys?"

No one dared bother Logan. They let him take you back to the jet. He held you the whole time. Even when you fell asleep from utter exhaustion he kept you close. He was with you every step of the way. Bringing you to the lab, watching as they run tests and stick needles into your arm. On your recovery bed with the ugly white lights he sat until you woke up. Sometimes you stirred, whining and you sounded afraid.

He wonders what fucked up things Mack made you see. The bruises and scars on your body told only half the story. With each fearful sound he wishes he would have taken longer to kill that bastard. But he's gone now and you seem to calm down when he's with you. Sensing him through your sleep.

The necklace sits in his hand. After he got back he had to make sure it was still with him. It was bloodied now, and had some wear and tear from the past. So he busied himself fixing it up, cleaning it until it shined like new. He doesn't know when or why he bought it for you but clearly it was special. The two stones meant something. He knew they did.

When you finally came to he jumped into action. Calling hank to come check on you while he slipped away to get you water. There was a big fuss, people scolding you for leaving and crying from happiness that you were back. Apologizes poured out of your mouth as you faced your family. Logan hung back and watched you be embraced, be loved. Your powers seemed to settle after this. The fear of touching other people was gone as you hugged people without a second thought. He waited and waited until it was just the two of you.

"Hey there," You can barely look at him as he sits in the plastic chair next to your bed.

"Logan I..." You can't get the words out. How do you even begin to apologize.

You bury your face in your hands but Logan isn't having it. He had a lot of questions but they could wait. He takes your hands away from your face, cupping your chin to make you look at him. Your heart breaks a little when you look into those eyes. He still doesn't know you. Of course, his memories are still gone.

"Why did you come? You don't remember me." You ask him. He risked his life for you, he killed for you. The Logan you knew at the start wouldn't have done that for you. Maybe with the team but to risk all of it alone. Why?

"I don't have to remember you to see you were important to me sweetheart, though I would really like those memories back." Of course.

You never took them from him. If anything you locked them away. You couldn't bring yourself to truly erase yourself from his mind. With a gentle touch you release his memories like a tidal wave. They pour into his brain, flooding his senses as memory after memory flash into his mind. Ending with your final moments together in that motel room.

Your first kiss, you told him you loved him. You took that from him. He should be angry with you. You stole his memories just like they did before but when he opens his eyes there's no anger.

Only love.

He smashes his lips onto yours. Capturing you into a heated kiss. This is what he dreamed of. Getting to touch you like this, to show his love. He's rough with his motions. He should be gentler but he can't help himself. Years of desperation building up into this. He can finally hold you, finally claim you as his.

"Logan I'm so sorry." You cry. He shushes you with another kiss.

He doesn't care about that right now. You were afraid and though he wishes you came to him he's just glad to have you back. You scared the fuck out of him.

"I love you too sweetheart, you didn't give me the chance to say it but fuck I love you." You claw at his shirt to get him closer.

You need him to be as close as he can. He ignores the wires and climbs into the bed with you. Situating himself so that you're as close as you can get. Legs intertwined with each other. He takes the necklace and places it around your neck. Clasping it and smiling as it rests above your heart.

"I'll always fight for us sweetheart. I'll fight for you." Even if he doesn't remember you he knew deep down that there was something there. That you were important to him. No one could take that away from him.

You curl into his arms, finally feeling at peace for the first time. Not worried about your powers or about your past. You felt protected and loved. Logan lulls you back to rest promising to keep watch. He knows that what you suffered won't go away easily but he'll be there every step of the way.

Nothing will take you from him again. Not ever. He'll make sure of that.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett angst #wolverine x reader

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captainsophiestark · 7 months ago

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The Old Me Never Left

Kai Parker x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Requested by Anon! Hope you like it!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Summary: Kai's SO gets grabbed by some witches in an attempt to make him cooperate, but those witches forgot exactly who they were dealing with.

Word Count: 1,635

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Just a heads up, this has a little more description of violence and the reader in peril than my works usually do! Still very canon-typical for TVD though.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

My favorite song blasted through my headphones as I walked, the sun gently shining down and making the world around me the perfect temperature. A light breeze blew across my face and I'd just picked up my favorite drink from my favorite cafe. It should've been the perfect moment.

Instead of enjoying the day, however, I was busy glancing in the reflective windows of buildings I passed, trying to keep an eye on the two people behind me. They'd been behind me for a while now, including at the coffee shop I'd stopped at, and my mental warning meter had quickly clicked into the red.

Since I regularly involved myself with supernaturals, especially since I'd started dating one, I'd had to be more on guard than ever for someone coming after me for something to do with all that. Very much inconvenient and sometimes truly terrifying, but lucky for me, I had a secret weapon.

Kai Parker. My boyfriend, and a siphoner-witch who just happened to be one of the most powerful people around. No matter if the threat behind me was supernatural or just regular humans being a problem, I knew Kai could and would take care of it for me.

I sped up slilghtly, chucking my still half-full drink in the trash and pulling my phone out of my pocket. Despite myself, my heart started racing faster, especially as I noticed the people behind me getting noticeably closer the next time I checked in a window. I quickly dialed Kai's number and held the phone to my ear, speeding up even more when I heard running footsteps behind me.

"Hey, sweetheart," came Kai's voice as I started running. I could hear his smile through the phone. "What's up?"

"Kai, I need you to come find me," I said, my voice urgent, the words coming out between fast breaths. "I was on my way to the park. I'm like a block or two away, coming from our cafe, and these people are following me-"

I heard someone behind me shout a word I didn't know, and a moment later, a splitting pain tore through my head. I screamed and fell to the ground, but I knew making a scene wouldn't help; these people were clearly witches. The extra seconds I'd had to talk to Kai were likely only because they'd been busy casting spells to hide me from passerby when I went down.

Vaguely, as I hit the pavement and the world went dark around me, the pounding in my head echoing throughout my body, I thought I heard Kai's voice. He sounded panicked, and he kept repeating my name over and over. I wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him, to reassure him, to help him with whatever had him freaking out. But I couldn't make myself move, especially not through the pain.

Finally, everything else faded to black, the pain disappearing with the rest of the world as Kai's voice danced through my head for one last blissful moment. And then he was gone, too.

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

When I woke up, not everything came back to me right away. I wasn't totally sure where I was or how I'd gotten here, but I knew one thing: my body hurt.

Everything, top to bottom, ached or screamed at me in some way. And when the memories started coming back, of the witches and the panic in Kai's voice on the phone, my heart started clenching in my chest, too.

"Look who's awake."

A gruff voice drew my attention to a few figures in front of me. I couldn't totally make them out, my vision still a little blurry, but they clearly weren't friends.

"Who... are you?" I managed to groan. I tried to move, but found myself bound tightly to a chair. My head swam, a pain like a spike still focused into my forehead.

"We're friends of your boyfriend," said one in a tone that clearly meant the opposite. I groaned.

"What do you... want?"

"We want him to get in line," the one in the middle said. "The powerful heretic, wrongful leader of the Gemini Coven, finally has a weakness—you—so it's time for him to start playing nice."

I huffed a laugh which immediately turned into a painful cough. Still, I smiled and shook my head, even as it made the world spin beneath me.

"You're all fools. You can't control Kai, especially not like this."

"Oh, I think you're underestimating your importance to him significantly," said the one in the lead. I started to respond, but a familiar voice piped up from the back of the room before I could.

"Mm, I don't think this has anything to do with 'underestimating importance'. More like... one person in this room knows who I am, and everyone else forgot."

The men before me whirled around, giving me a clear line of sight to Kai as my vision finally started returning to normal. I swear at least half the adrenaline melted out of my body at the sight of him leaning casually against the doorframe of whatever room we were in. He looked completely casual and calm, until his eyes locked onto me. The teasing smile dropped from his face as he straightened, then faced the other witches again. The smile came back, but this time it had a much sharper edge to it.

"You know, it's funny," he said, voice like a steel blade. "People seem to think that just because I've chosen a peaceful life with someone I love, that I lost all my powers, or something. But I can tell you all right now: the Kai Parker of your nightmares didn't go anywhere."

The witches between Kai and I shifted nervously, removing his direct line to me and shifting backwards in my direction.

"You better be careful, Parker," said the one in the lead, all of the arrogance and confidence gone from his voice despite his attempt to posture. "You do what we say, or-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Kai raised a hand, magically yanking the witch forward and striking out with a knife in his other hand, stabbing the witch straight through the heart. The whole room froze in shock as Kai just held him there for a minute, surely siphoning the magic out of his body, before letting him fall to the floor limp and dead.

The minute his body hit the ground, the remaining witches sprang into action. Most of them tried to focus fire on Kai, but one dropped back towards me, moving to stand behind me and my chair. In the time it took him to cross the room, Kai made quick work of the rest of his friends, draining all of their power before finishing them off and dropping them with their fallen leader.

"Stop!" shouted the one behind me. "Don't make another move or I'll- ah!"

He screamed, and I heard a sound like him dropping to his knees. Before me, Kai had one hand extended, a thunderous look on his face. He scrunched his hand into a fist, and the man behind me fell silent, other than the sound of his body hitting the floor.

Just like that, the rage melted off Kai's face. He crossed the room to me in a second, dropping to his knees before me and gently running his hands over my forearms and thighs. A moment later, the bonds holding me fell away.

"Are you alright, baby?" he asked, eyes wide with concern as his hands ghosted over my body, simultaneousy checking for injury while reassuring him I was really here. "I'm so sorry they hurt you. I came as fast as I could."

I nodded shakily, rubbing at my wrists before running a hand down Kai's face. He leaned into the touch, his eyes instantly romaing my expression.

"I'm okay now," I said, voice still a little breathy. "I'm okay. I knew you'd come for me."

"I'll always come for you. Nothing in the world could keep me away. Nothing." I nodded, a smile making its way onto my face as Kai brushed a few tears from my cheek that I hadn't realized had fallen. "And now, none of them are ever going to hurt you again."

Kai's eyes darkened a little as he said it, so I brushed my thumb across his cheek and gave him a small smile. Just like that, the shadows vanished from his face again as his eyes focused on me. I leaned forward and Kai did the same, our lips meeting a moment later in a soft, sweet kiss. I felt the warm tingle of magic flowing across my skin, erasing all the last aches and pains, until Kai and I finally pulled apart.

A fluttering smile made its way onto Kai's face as his eyes scanned mine again. Finally, he sighed.

"You ready to go home, sweetheart?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am."

"Me too."

Kai shot me a wink as he scooped me into his arms, then carried me out of the room, stepping carefully over the bodies he'd left in his wake. He held me a little tighter to him as we left the room, and I buried my head in his chest. Kai and I had both changed a lot since we'd first met, but at the end of the day, we were still the same people. He would still do anything for me, and although it didn't come up as often, I would do anything for him. And no one, be they murderous witches or particularly rude people I happened to cross paths with in my daily life, stood at chance at bringing the two of us down.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

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chillinglyadventurous · 3 months ago

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I knew you’d find me

Ford takes care of a badly injured reader after Weirdmageddon.

Tags: blood, severe injuries, fluff

After everything, Ford found you. He found you lying outside the Shack, just as broken as the building was. He had scooped you up in his arms and carried you inside, fighting tears. You were covered in blood. There was a nasty gash across your forehead. No wonder you were unconscious.

He laid you gingerly in his room. You were alive. That was all that mattered. He knew he needed to get back to Stanley who didn’t remember who he or anyone else was, but he needed to clean you up first. He was as gentle as he could be as he mopped up the blood on your face. He was gentle as he removed your dirty clothes and changed you into something more comfortable. You’d need it when you woke up. Once you were sufficiently cleaned, he knew there wasn’t much else he could do for you.

After Stan was taken care of, his memory restored with Mabel’s scrapbook, he came to you again. Ford laid beside you, stroking your hair. He kissed your cheeks, hating himself for what he brought upon you. He may not have done this to you directly, but he was the cause. Ford was thankful, however, that you were alive.

His hand rested on your chest. He counted your heartbeat and breaths simultaneously. Traumatic brain injury was an understatement. You’d have a long road ahead of you. He knew it and he swore to your unconscious form that he would be with you every step of the way.

Ford stayed beside you for hours, the room silent except for your steady breathing. Each beat of your heart was a reminder that, no matter how broken things felt, there was still hope. He couldn’t stop running through the events that led to this moment, cursing himself for not being able to protect you. His mind whirled with possibilities—what could have happened differently, how he could have avoided putting you in harm’s way. None of it mattered now. You were here, and you were alive. He’d have to focus on that, even if the guilt weighed him down.

Eventually, he stood, brushing a hand through his silver hair. He needed to prepare for when you woke up if you woke up. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, but he pushed it aside. You would wake up. You had to. No, there was no if. There couldn’t be an if.

Over the next few days, Ford stayed by your side, except when he was checking on Stan. Stanley was himself again. He was still recovering from the memory gun, but Ford couldn’t quite focus on him. Not when you were still lying in his bed, unresponsive.

Stan came into the room a few times, casting worried glances in your direction. Despite the gruff front he put up, Ford knew Stan cared about you, too. “[Y/N]’s tough,” Stan muttered one afternoon, as if trying to convince both himself and Ford. “Just gotta give it time.” Ford nodded, but his chest ached with the fear of losing you. Every hour felt like a lifetime.

Finally, on the fifth day, there was a flicker of movement. It was subtle, just the faintest twitch of your hand, but Ford saw it. His breath caught in his throat. He leaned forward, his heart hammering in his chest. “[Y/N],” he whispered, barely daring to believe it. “Can you hear me?”

Your eyelids fluttered, and a small, pained groan escaped your lips. It was the most beautiful sound Ford had ever heard.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, tears of relief stinging his eyes. “You’re going to be okay. I’m right here.”

You winced in pain. Ford reached for your hand, his grip gentle but firm. “Don’t try to move too much. You’re hurt, but you’re going to be alright. I promise.”

Your lips parted as if you wanted to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. Ford immediately grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and helped you take a sip.

“Ford,” you croaked, your voice weak, but filled with relief. The sound of his name from your lips made his heart swell. He leaned down and kissed your forehead, careful to avoid the bandages.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

You managed a small smile, though it was strained with pain. “I knew you’d find me.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #ford pines #stanford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #chillinglyadventurousfics

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wilwheaton · 1 year ago

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When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

#tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw exploitation #child actor #still just a geek #lucio fulci #trauma survivor #speaking up for the child who was silenced by his abusers

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sukirichi · 4 months ago

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 018 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. angst, infidelity, defamation, forced incest (please read the chapter first before you come at me 😭), reader uses a gun, alcohol consumption, emotional manipulation, toxic characters and toxic relationships, iris pov (just for a short part), mentions of murder, car accidents

notes. YOOO can you guys believe we are so close to the ending!! thank you guys so much for being so sweet and supportive to dtd! even though ik most of the readers are away and busy with school now (as am i) i still hope you guys enjoy this update hehe. the next chapter drop should be around the regular dtd tuesdays <3

wc. 13k

series masterlist

[ EIGHTEEN ] no matter how easy things could be if I did, and no matter how guilty I still feel saying it. I wish I hated you.

In hindsight, the day began like any other day in the glorious kingdom of Inarizaki.

The early morning sun cast its golden glow over the streets that bustled with people, the shops opening with smiles and greetings to the familiar faces of loyal customers. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and brewed tea, the distant chime of church bells signalling the start of a new day.

But beneath this serene facade, a storm was threatening to blow – one that would shake the very foundations of the already fragile throne. Iris knew this, too – she could feel it, could extend her hand and have her fingertips brush against her inevitable end.

As the first rays of light filtered through the windows of homes and cafes, Iris watched as the kingdom’s most widely read newspapers hit the stands. The headline had been bold and dramatic, splashed across the front page in large, black letters enough to garner heads turning its way. Who Is The Real Iris Amari? it read, accompanied by a series of photographs that left little to the imagination.

The citizens of Inarizaki began their mind-numbing routine, unaware of the bombshell waiting for them in the morning news. It started slowly, with a few early risers picking up the newspaper and gasping in shock. Unsurprisingly, the scandal spread like wildfire.

The younger ones scrolled through their phones, stopping in their tracks as the news popped up on their screens. The article quickly went viral, shared across social media platforms in the speed of light. It seemed that everyone had something to say about the explosive revelation – Iris’ official portrait decorated on it all.

In a cafe Iris had once loved visiting when she was still a teenager, where morning coffee was usually a time spent with light-hearted chatter and gossip during a faraway era when she still had friends, the atmosphere grew tense and charged. She could’ve been one of them, she thinks, a group of young people huddled together, their voices hushed but urgent. “Did you see the news about Princess Iris?” a woman whispered to her companion, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Her mother involved in a murder? I can’t believe it?”

“Now that they mention it,” mumbled the man next to her, stroking his chin in thought. “It was rather odd that she got married to the Second Prince out of nowhere.”

All across the Kingdom, people gathered in small clusters – their faces a mix of shock, outrage, and disbelief. The photographs shown in the article were damning, capturing moments that painted a grim picture of Princess Iris’ past. One image showed her mother, Kate Amari, in a heated argument with the Late King. Another depicted Iris herself at a lavish party, her expression one of defiance and rebellion.

She’d remembered that party, could recall how the events went crystal clear. She’d been so young, barely nineteen and out of high school, when the impending doom of her fate grew ever near. A few years from now, she would’ve been forced into a marriage with a Prince whose affections she could never win. And what better way to accept her fate than make her mother outraged? So she’d partied, drunk herself to nearly the point of no return, and stumbled back home crying because she’d known. Her fate had been decided from her the moment the Late King slipped from her mother’s grasp, and into the arms of another woman.

She could have never escaped it.

She was nothing but a painful reminder of what her mother could’ve had. I could’ve been his concubine, her mother would cry herself to sleep, screaming those words over and over. Glass would shatter on the walls as she threw another empty bottle of wine over Iris’ head. He said he loved me! He said he would take us home and we would be together as a family!

Such dreams were shattered in the blink of an eye. No matter how much she wailed, and ran after the Late King, it never changed the fact that her mother was the daughter of a lowborn servant, and the Late King had always been majestic from the day he was born.

We were in love, she would tell Iris, brushing her hands through her dark locks – the same shade as the King’s. He’d always loved me, you see. Before the Crown forced him to marry her, you know? The Queen? The one who never smiles? He doesn’t love her, my dear, but he has us. You and me, his precious girls.

Iris thought his mother was delusional. She knew all about it, of course. She’d read her mother’s journals, the love letters the King had penned. She hadn’t been lying that he loved her, once.

The King, merely a Crown Prince at the time, aged sixteen when he first crossed the borders and paid an official visit to the humbler towns of Itachiyama where he met her mother. They’d been young, and foolishly in love. And her mother, illiterate and innocent, had captured the Prince’s heart. He thought her an ideal woman; unstained by ideals, untainted by the law. She knew only how to love him, and for once in his life, he’d felt more of a boy than he was a Prince. He’d made promises he couldn’t keep, promises of running away to the ends of the earth where they could be together.

Like a fool, Iris’ mother held onto his promise. She kept her loyalty even after he’d married the current Queen. She kept chasing after him even after the First Prince – a bastard child – was born. She’d loved him, through and through, until he returned to Itachiyama and made her believe he’d returned for her, only to stumble in the same sheets as Kiyoomi’s mother.

Her mother hadn’t been the same ever since.

She grew obsessed with revenge, throwing herself into a path where redemption couldn’t exist. She’d studied, made a name of herself, and flew to Inarizaki the moment the King had drunkenly put a child into her belly. Not that the King could remember – hence why he never accepted Iris as his own.

But she’d find herself amongst her true family. That was Kate Amari’s promise before the Queen betrayed her, and put her behind bars.

On the busy streets of the capital, pedestrians paused to check their phones, their reactions intense. Some stared in disbelief, while others shook their heads in disgust. A few young people, who had grown up admiring Princess Iris, felt a deep sense of betrayal. “I always thought she was different,” a teenager muttered to his friend. “But this... this is something else.”

The Palace was thrown into chaos as the news spread.

Inside the grand halls, staff members whispered amongst themselves, casting anxious glances towards the royal chambers. Courtiers and advisors rushed to convene emergency meetings, their faces pale and drawn. The Queen, upon hearing the news, simply sat down and pressed her lips into a thin line.

In the markets and town squares, debates broke out as people tried to make sense of the allegations. Some defended Princess Iris, arguing that the writer was anonymous, and the photographs could be doctored. “You can’t believe everything you read,” a shopkeeper insisted, waving his hand dismissively. “This could be a plot to discredit the royal family.”

The others were not so easily convinced. “Look at the evidence,” a customer countered, pointing to the newspaper. “The photographs, the timeline – it all fits. How can you ignore that?”

The debate raged on, with emotions running high on both sides. Some citizens called for Princess Iris to be stripped of her title and brought to justice, while others urged caution and a thorough investigation before jumping to conclusions. It was evident that the Kingdom stood on the brink of a social and political upheaval.

Even as the palace attempted to manage the fallout, the scandal showed no signs of abating.

News channels broadcasted special reports, experts weight in with their opinions, and social media buzzed with speculation and outrage. The Kingdom of Inarizaki had never seen such a scandal, and it seemed that everyone had been swept up in the maelstrom.

In the midst of the chaos, Princess Iris remained secluded within the palace walls, shielded from the public eye as she held a hand to her belly. But the damage was done. The question on everyone’s mind was how the royal family would recover from such a devastating blow – a question not even Iris had the answer to.

She knew one thing, and one thing, only.

She was a Princess, and she’d do anything to keep her place within the Palace walls.

Iris stood by the window of her – your – lavishly decorated room, staring out at the gardens she had once found solace in. The vibrant flowers, the meticulously trimmed hedges, the majestic fountains – all of it seemed like a distant memory now, a world that no longer belonged to her. Instead, a hollow numbness settled deep within her chest, a void where her hopes and dreams once resided.

When Iris first laid eyes on you on the day Rintaro picked you out in a crowded room, she’d thought you were harmless. Dull. Plain. You spoke only what needed to be said, and made no unnecessary movements. Stiff, and boring. She would’ve never thought, or seen it coming, that her damnation would come from the hands of a poor, lovesick girl who’d been lied to.

The heavy footsteps of the guards echoed in the corridor outside, growing louder with each passing second. She knew they were coming for her, to escort her out of the Palace for the last time.

The ornate mirror on the wall showed a reflection Iris could barely recognized – the same as her mother’s eyes had now lost their spark, a face that aged overnight from the weight of the scandal.

The door opened with a creak, and the guards stepped in. She felt their presence more than she saw it, their stern faces and impassive conveying the gravity of her situation. They waited silently, giving her a moment to gather herself, but there was nothing left to gather. Her spirit felt fragmented, her resolve shattered. Now, all she felt was anger hidden underneath a layer of numbness. Don’t look at me like that, she wanted to sneer, I am your Princess. I am the King’s only daughter!

She turned from the window, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were in a dream. Her heart was a heavy stone in her chest, each beat a reminder of the life she was leaving behind.

The corridor stretched out before her, each step echoing with a finality that was almost suffocating. The opulence of the palace, the tapestries, and gilded frames, all seemed to mock her now. She had once walked these halls with confidence and grace, but now, every step felt like a march towards her end. It was all hers – all could’ve been hers – if you never stepped in and took it all away from her.

As she descended the staircase, the memories of simpler times haunted her. The laughter, the never-ending banquets and stock of wine, the promises of a future that had been her birthright – they all seemed like a cruel illusion now. She could feel the eyes of the palace staff on her, their pity and curiosity cutting through the numbness like a knife. Still, she kept her head high, determined to maintain her dignity in these final moments.

The guards flanked her as she reached the main entrance. The heavy doors were already open, revealing the world beyond the palace walls. The bright sunlight was almost blinding. She paused at the threshold, taking one last look at the place that had been her home, her prison, and her battleground.

With a deep breath, she stepped out into the light. The doors closed behind her with a final, echoing thud, sealing her fate. The guards guided her towards the waiting vehicle, their hands gentle yet firm on her arms. She climbed inside, her movements robotic, her mind still struggling to process the enormity of what was happening.

As the carriage began to move, the palace slowly disappeared from view, replaced by the bustling streets of the city. She saw the faces of the citizens, some curious, some indifferent, and a few sympathetic. But none of it mattered anymore. Her life as Princess Iris was over, and what lay ahead was a life she never deserved.

The numbness returned, a merciful shield against the overwhelming reality. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes, letting the gentle sway of the carriage lull her into a state of detached calm. The future was uncertain, but for now, all she could do was endure.

Summoned by the royal advisors and members of the council, Iris made her way to the council chamber. As she approached the large, intricately carved doors, two guards pushed them open, revealing a room filled with stern faces and accusatory eyes.

The room was a stark contrast to the rest of the palace. It was dimly lit, with long shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. The heavy wooden table at the center was surrounded by the kingdom’s most powerful and influential figures, all of whom had been convened to address the scandal that had erupted overnight.

“Princess Iris,” one of the senior advisors began, his voice cold and devoid of empathy. "Do you understand the gravity of the situation? The article has not only tarnished your reputation but has also brought disgrace upon the entire royal family."

Iris stood before them, trying to maintain her composure. Her eyes met those of the advisors, seeking any hint of understanding or compassion, but finding none. She nodded, unable to trust her voice to remain steady. She’d already figured this would happen.

“We have no choice,” another advisor interjected. “The people demand accountability, and the council has decided that you must be stripped of your title. This is a necessary step to restore faith in the monarchy.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. Stripped of her title. The enormity of the situation began to sink in, and she felt a wave of humiliation wash over her.

“You can’t,” she croaked out, her throat growing dry. “I-I am married to the Second Prince, and my title is secured. You cannot separate us as divorce is illegal, and if you do so... that would be saying the Prince loses his title, too.”

The advisors shared a look with one another, processing the gravity of her words. “While what you say is indeed true, this is one of those occasions where we must make... necessary adjustments,” the senior advisor said, his glasses pushed up to his nose. “We have already taken measures to fact-check the article and–”

“And?”

The senior advisor glares at her for interrupting. The entire change in attitude was impalpable; now that she’d been scandalized, everyone suddenly lost respect for her. “–And we found that everything written in it was true, just as the photographs are real. We also found records confirming that your mother, Kate Amari, was imprisoned years ago for murder. The King’s murder.”

A bitter, sardonic laugh bubbled from her throat. “I do not deny that, but did anyone ever investigate why she killed him?” A round of gasps echoed through the room at the revelation. “I am willing to bet on my whole life that none of you know how important I am in the royal family, that if it weren’t for me, all of you would be losing your positions and jobs as we speak! It was I who kept all the secrets, the one and only reason you are all able to live your pathetic, worthless lives because none of you know anything! You don’t even know that the Queen you worship reverently is–”

The grand doors of the courtroom creaked open, and the air seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. All eyes turned towards the entrance as the Queen, clad in a dark, regal gown that seemed to absorb the light, stepped into the room. Her presence commanded an immediate, oppressive silence, freezing everyone in their places.

Her gaze, cold and calculating, swept across the assembly, landing on each individual with the weight of her authority. The air was thick with tension as courtiers and officials alike dared not to breathe too loudly, lest they draw her scrutiny. Iris felt her heart seize in her chest, her earlier numbness replaced by a paralyzing fear. The Queen’s entrance had turned the room into a tableau of silent dread, each person awaiting the inevitable judgment that her arrival heralded.

“That is enough,” her cold, heartless voice sweeps across the room. “The final decision has been made. You are no longer allowed to speak another word unless I, the Queen, permits it.”

“Traitor,” Iris sneered, baring her teeth and lunging at the Queen when the guards held her back. “You’re a traitor! This isn’t what we agreed upon!”

The Queen, unfazed, sighs. “Take her away from here.”

Before Iris could protest further, a pair of strong arms escorted her to the grand hall for the public ceremony. The grand hall, usually a place of celebration and state affairs, was now filled with a somber and judgmental crowd. Nobles, courtiers, and even some members of the public had gathered to witness the spectacle. The air was thick with anticipation and whispers.

The whispers grew louder with each step she took. She walked with her head held high, determined not to let them see her crumble.

The queen, stood at the front of the room. She held a scepter in her hand, a symbol of the authority that was about to be wielded against Iris. The ceremony was swift, almost mechanical in its execution.

“Princess Iris,” the queen began, her voice echoing through the hall. “You have brought dishonor to this family and to this kingdom. By the power vested in me, I hereby strip you of your title and all the privileges that come with it.”

With those words, the queen raised the scepter and tapped it on Iris’s shoulder. The symbolic gesture felt like a final, crushing blow. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, a mix of shock, satisfaction, and pity. Meanwhile, Iris stood, her eyes drawn to the ground as she fought back against the tears that threatened to fall.

She couldn’t believe it. The Queen had broken their agreement, turned back on her word like she did with her Mother. She’d promised her mother to place her within the royal family, then banished her overseas without another word. Now, she betrayed Iris too – arranging her marriage with Kiyoomi, her brother, and took it away from her.

The queen continued, her voice unwavering. “You are no longer Princess Iris of Inarizaki. You are hereby banished from the royal palace, and your marriage to Prince Kiyoomi is annulled.”

The crowd gasped, the severity of the punishment sinking in. Iris raised her head, unable to stop the tear slipping down her cheek. Quickly, she wiped it away. She had to remain strong, if only for the sake of her dignity, because what could she say now? That she was pregnant, and Kiyoomi had to continue with the announcement of ‘the happy news’? She couldn’t – she was stuck in a dead-end corner, and judging by the slight smile playing on the Queen’s lips, she’d already calculated this potential move.

She’d known Iris would never bring up the baby to save herself. Iris would never subject herself to an unwanted pregnancy, keeping up this pretend of sickening act of husband and wife with her brother any longer. If she did, the Crown would pressure her to have another child – one with Kiyoomi this time around, assuming that Rintaro would be disposed of soon enough.

Iris couldn’t go that far.

The Queen, as always, got what she wanted and won.

As the ceremony concluded, Iris turned and walked out of the grand hall. The heavy doors closed behind her with a resounding thud.

Her mind raced with thoughts of what to do next. Where would she go now? Her mother was gone, and she had no allies, made no friends. Maiko could’ve been someone to run to, but even the foolish kid had been too enamoured with you to ever have any loyalty for her. But she refused to let it end like this. She had to clear her mother’s name, to reveal the truth about the queen’s crimes.

She wasn’t going to let it end like this.

With her title stripped and her future uncertain, Iris vowed to fight back. She would uncover the secrets buried deep within the palace walls, expose the queen’s treachery, and reclaim her honor. As she walked away from the palace, the whispers of the crowd still echoing in her ears, Iris walked onwards with newfound resolve. She might have lost her title, but she had not lost her spirit. The battle for her mother’s honor and her own redemption had only just begun.

She would take back what was hers.

The palace was sent into a whirlwind of chaos after Iris’ deposition.

You and Kiyoomi stood in the hallway of Belleview Manor, observing the frenzy. Servants moved like automatons, their faces set in grim determination as they hauled the remnants of Iris’ belongings out of her quarters, tossing her clothes and personal items into hastily arranged piles.

You watched as delicate dresses were carelessly bundled, precious trinkets thrown aside, and keepsakes unceremoniously discarded. Your eyes fell upon a particularly cherished item – a framed photo of a younger Iris and what appeared to be her mother. Their faces were lit into smiles, Iris’ smaller hands held tightly within her mother’s. It struck a chord of guilt within you, and you stepped forward, halting a servant who was about to toss it aside.

“Leave it,” you mouth silently, taking the photograph from the bewildered servant’s hands. Clutching the frame, you held it tightly to your chest, looking up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes.

It’d been less than a week since the news spread of Iris’ abrupt leave. The Queen had stripped her off her title, and the entire Kingdom had been harsh in their glee over it. It was ruthless, needless to say, how easily they turned on Iris – who was once their Princess – the moment the article had been released. She went from being adored to being shunned to the point that even Itachiyama had closed its doors on her.

But wasn’t that what you wanted?

You’d been so desperate to keep Kiyoomi away from her grasp. Now, you’d succeeded. Iris had left, your room was now yours again, and any traces of the brunette finally disappeared.

And yet... why did none of it feel good? You weren’t proud, weren’t happy.

Outside, the commotion was no less intense. The air was thick with whispers and hurried conversations, the scent of scandal permeating every corner of the palace grounds. Meanwhile, Kiyoomi watched it all unfurl with a cold dispassion, as if he was merely an observer.

Your heart ached with a pang of pity as you glanced at him, but there was no time to dwell on it. In the span of forty eight hours, he’d lost his wife, and was pushed to being another pawn again. That part you hadn’t thought through – Kiyoomi may have been freed from Iris, but who was to stop the Queen from marrying him off to another woman? The political crisis between Itachiyama and Inarizaki was temporarily resolved the last time he’d went there, when you went there, but that had been months. And now, with the recent issue of Itachiyama being shamed for having such ‘lowborn people’ like Iris, none of it was getting better.

A small voice in your head urged you to find Iris, to offer some semblance of comfort or understanding. Gripping the photograph tighter, you make your way to your car, wondering where Iris might have gone after experiencing such a public humiliation.

Just as you were about to open the car door, a firm hand grabbed your arm. You turned to see Kiyoomi right behind you, his face etched with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to find Iris.”

“No,” his grip tightens with urgency, already slamming the car door shut behind you. “You shouldn’t go anywhere. It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What’s going on?”

“She’s not going to let this end,” he murmurs silently, pulling you into his chest as he looks around warily. He didn’t need to elaborate; the gravity of the moment was clear. The scandal, the disgrace, it was spreading like wildfire. There was no telling where it would end or what further damage might be done.

“Kiyoomi... Did I do the right thing?” you ask him, brow furrowing as your palms grew sweaty. “I-I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I know it would’ve gotten your marriage annulled with her, but... I don’t know what they’re going to do her, Omi. Will she be alright out there?”

Kiyoomi’s lips press into a thin line. “She will be, but I can’t guarantee things will stay the same,” he pauses, as if hesitating, then reaches to comb his hair back. “Listen. Iris is not going to take any of this lightly. There’s no telling what she will do next, but I can guarantee that none of us are safe here.”

You bite your lip, pondering it before you decided, “I still need to go.”

“Where will you go?” Kiyoomi lets go of your hand, not wanting to stop you, but not entirely willing to let you leave either. Instead, his shoulders sagged, his eyes pleading. “Just... Stay here with me. Or at least let me accompany you.”

You shook your head. You’d just freed Kiyoomi from the ties that bound him; if you dragged him with you again, then this would never end. This was something you had to solve for yourself, but if Iris couldn’t be found , then you had to start with him. “I need to find Rintaro. He still has a child with her, Omi. We don’t know how he’s handling the situation right now.”

Kiyoomi’s lips pressed into a thin line. Sighing through his nose, he seemed to have an internal debate before he closes his eyes. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s...” you insisted, “I think you should stay behind.”

Silence stretches between you both. For a moment, it looks like Kiyoomi wanted to say more, but chose not to. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt you – the way he closed off on himself, his walls put up so high you could barely look past it. But what could you do? And Kiyoomi, too, must’ve known this was a losing game. Forcing a smile on his face, he nods.

“Call me if you need anything.”

You smile at him gratefully, photograph still clutched to your chest before opening the car door. Then, you sped out of the driveway and called Rintaro, unsurprised that it went straight to voicemail. You tried asking the twins, even Kita, anyone who might’ve known where your husband was. But alas, none of them had the slightest clue. The last they saw of him was just before Iris was taken away by the guards, hovering behind her with an impassive look on his face.

He’d shortly disappeared after that. None of your texts and calls came through.

Jaw clenched, you turned on the location tracker you’d placed on his phone that time before you left for Itachiyama, mindlessly turning on the radio in case there’d been any reported sightings. You tuned in, letting the music fill the space in the air.

You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles stiff with tension. You’d been driving for what seemed like hours now, eyes scanning the roads and alleys, searching for any sign of Rintaro. Fatigue weighed heavily on you now that the sun had long set, your eyelids drooping and your body aching from being sat for so long. Still, the tracker on your phone remained stubbornly blank, offering no direction to head in.

Just as you decided to turn back, the car radio crackled to life. The unmistakable voice of Iris filled the vehicle. You immediately went still, your heart pounding in your chest. You quickly pulled over to the side of the road, your breath catching as you listened intently.

Greetings, citizens of Inarizaki. It is I, Iris Amari, your former Princess and representative of Itachiyama. As you all know, I have recently been stripped of my titles now that the history behind my mother’s sudden disappearance has been uncovered.

A short pause.

I confess that I am guilty of manipulating the Crown Prince out of my boredom. The truth is, I was in a loveless marriage with the Second Prince, and I was lonely in the Palace when my husband would leave me to entertain myself for weeks, sometimes months on end. A lonely woman could only endure so much, and the Crown Prince was always there – warm, welcoming, and as lovely as he’d been when we met during our school years. I couldn’t help but seek out his company, even when he’d already married the Yuzuru heiress. After all, I knew my marriage with the Second Prince was hopeless. He would never speak to me, much less look my way – an arrangement I was satisfied with as long as it meant I could remain being a Princess.

You leant back in your seat, gnawing at your lip as you hung on to every word she said.

Now, to answer the question everyone has been dying to know: how did a no-name foreigner like me marry into the Royal Family? The truth is simple. I am the King’s only daughter, and Her Majesty the Queen manipulated my desperate, lovesick, and heartbroken mother to do her bidding. They’d both been victims of the King, their hearts toyed with until they were fueled with anger.

Your grip on the steering wheel loosened. Glancing at Iris’ photograph on the passenger seat, you stared hard at her features – green eyes, loose and dark wavy hair, almost with the same pattern of Kiyoomi’s curls. Looking at her now, Iris had always looked so... familiar. And that thought – or realization – alone, had your mouth drying.

But if they were both the King’s children, and they were married... A gasp fell from your lips.

Was that why Kiyoomi refused to touch her? Why he’d looked at her, repulsed and paling like she was vermin? It hadn’t been because she was, but rather because she was his sister.

The Queen, having had enough of her husband’s affairs and mistreatments, ordered my mother to murder him under the promise she would welcome me into the Palace. My mother did as she was told, concerned only with securing her daughter’s future, but the Queen betrayed us. Shortly after the King died, the Queen banished my mother from Inarizaki and put her behind bars to ensure her silence.

As a last resort to somewhat keep her end of the deal, she then enrolled me in Inarizaki Private Royal Academy to learn about how to run the country as a future Princess. Years later, after I graduated, she arranged my marriage with Prince Kiyoomi, my half-brother.

Now this all begs the question regarding the recent cheating scandal of the Crown Prince: if I’d known all this time that I was the King’s daughter, did I not seduce my own blood and flesh?

You may think so, but the Queen keeps a plethora of lies to keep this Kingdom running – one of her secrets being that she never had a child with the Late King, and Crown Prince Rintaro is nothing but a fraud. He is not of royal flesh and blood. He is nothing but a boy picked up on the streets to become the Queen’s puppet.

When the announcement ended, the music previously playing stuttered before continuing to where it left off. You sat there, stunned in silence with your mind reacing.

The sound of your heartbeat filled your ears, loud enough that it pulsed with the vehicle’s hum. Suddenly, your phone flashed with a notification – the tracker had located Rintaro. Adrenaline surged through you, and you slammed your foot on the gas, the car lurching forward as you sped off.

Now that Rintaro’s secret was out, you needed to find him first before the police did.

You drove through the dimly lit streets, your surroundings growing increasingly desolate. The familiar cityscape gave way to the outskirts, a labyrinth of abandoned warehouses and crumbling buildings. Shadows loomed large, casting eerie shapes that seemed to dance in the periphery of your vision. Your anxiety grew with each passing mile, the unease settling like a heavy weight in your chest.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

The once smooth road turned rough and pitted, each bump jarring your already frazzled nerves. The neon glow of the city was long behind you, now replaced by the flickering, sporadic streetlights that only deepened the shadows.

After what felt like forever, you’d finally reached your destination – a decrepit building that looked to have been abandoned for years. The windows were boarded up, and graffiti marred its exterior. Despite its appearance, the low thump of music resonated through the walls, a steady, booming pulse that hinted at life within. You parked your car and stepped out, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar surroundings.

The building loomed over you, dark and foreboding. You balled your fists at your sides, trying to steady your frantically racing heart.

As you approached the entrance, you were greeted by a hulking figure. “You got a pass?”

You blinked your eyes up at the bouncer, standing guard. He was imposing, his large, hulking arms crossed over his chest. “Uh,” you licked your dry lips, vaguely realizing a little too late that you’re inappropriately dressed for this event – pearl necklace, diamond earrings, and a silk below-the-knee champagne coloured dress. “N-No, I don’t.”

“Then I’m sorry, Miss, you can’t enter. This is an invite-only party.”

You’re already fiddling with your purse. “How much?” you raised your brows, daring the bouncer to continue smirking when he noticed the seriousness on your face. “Name me your price.” He was quick to mention the numbers, and without sparing him another glance, you shoved a wad of cash – with extra – to his tattooed hands.

The bouncer’s smirk grew wider, satisfied as he pockets the bills. “Welcome to Ecstasy. Enjoy your stay. If you don’t have a mask yet, someone at the counter will give you one. At the right price.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him and through the doors. The music grew louder as you neared, its relentless beat matching the pounding of your heart. You squared your shoulders, prepared to face whatever lay behind the doors of this unsettling, hidden nightclub. What the hell was Rintaro doing here?

The deeper you entered the club, the louder the music got. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something else you couldn’t quite place. The interior was a chaotic blend of darkness and vibrant neon lights, flashing in sync with the pounding bass of the music – loud enough to give you a headache. The colors danced erratically, casting shifting shadows across the grinding bodies across the room.

Everywhere you looked, people were hidden behind masks, their identities obscured in a surreal modern-era masquerade.

The masks ranged from simple to elaborate, animal-themed, Venetian, some grotesque. Yours was a simple bunny-mask, its ears protruding at the sides and the nose wide enough to cover a fraction of your eyes. You understood now why Rintaro chose to be here – the anonymity gave the revelers a sense of freedom, their movements uninhibited and wild. Everyone danced with abandon, bodies pressed close together as they moved as one with the beat. In the corners, couples were locked in passionate embraces, their hands trailing in places it shouldn’t be – completely oblivious to the world around them.

Discomfort washed over you as you navigated through the crowd.

The noise was overwhelming, a constant assault on your senses. Your formal attire, elegant and out of place, drew curious and sometimes hungry stares from the masked partygoers. Your feeble attempt in donning the bunny mask did little to hide your unease.

You pushed through the crowd, determined to find Rintaro.

Men in masks turned to watch you, their gazes lingering too long for comfort. You quickened your pace, ignoring the murmurs and the eyes that followed your every move. The flashing lights made it hard to see clearly, but you couldn’t back out now. You’d already reached this far. There was no way you were going to leave this hellish place without your husband in tow.

Finally, you spotted a tuft of dark, unruly hair.

Rintaro sat slumped at the bar, nursing a drink as his head bobbed in time to the rhythm of the music. He looked weary and lost, a stark contrast to the frenzy around him. Relief washed over you as you made your way beside him, the chaotic energy of the club seemingly fading in the background. You reached out to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in hopes to draw him out of his stupor and back to you.

When he finally turned to you, you were met with his familiar hazel eyes – ones that bordered more on green than brown. He looked exhausted; dark circles visible even behind his wolf-shaped mask, the whiskers nearly comical as it draped on the sides. You grinned at him, relieved to have found him safe and sound. Throwing your arms around him – or more like attempted to – you found yourself gently shoved back, your lower back connecting with the stool behind you.

“Don’t touch me,” he sneers, his words slurred. “My wife won’t like it if she sees you.”

You frowned at him, rubbing at the sore spot at your back. “Don’t be stupid. We need to go home. Now.”

Rintaro throws his head back in laughter, gesturing to the bartender for another refill. Once his glass was full again, he took slow, deliberate sips – his face impassive and his eyes cold. “The night is too young. Why would I want to leave?” he murmurs more to himself than you, his gaze narrowing at your hunched figure beside him. He stares, hard, making you squirm beneath the mask. But Rintaro simply sniffs, pointing his drink in your direction. “You look awfully familiar.”

“That’s because I’m your wife. Now let’s go.”

“My wife, huh? Now I know you’re lying,” he shakes his head to himself, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he downs his drink in one go. “My wife would never look for me, and she’d never come to a place like this. She’s a little too good for everybody. A little too great for the likes of us. Even for someone like me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I recently just found out that I’m–” he closes the distance between you, close enough that his cologne and the stench of alcohol overwhelms you. Then, he cups his palm around his mouth as if to say a secret, his mouth dangerously close to your ear as his voice drops. “–Adopted. Or kidnapped, if we’re going to be precise. Fucked up, right? But you want to know what’s even more fucked up? It’s that I genuinely thought I was this great, praise-worthy Prince who deserved no one better but my wife. And I–” his chuckles grew louder, the humour in them absent, “–I ruined it. Ruined her life. Because she doesn’t even know that she married some stupid, lowborn gardener’s son.”

You frowned at his words. Crossing your arms against your chest, you spun on your stool and faced him directly, snatching the glass from his hand before he could ask for another refill. This time around, Rintaro doesn’t protest. Just slumps further against the bar’s counter.

“Don’t talk like that. I’m sure she doesn’t think of you any differently.”

“She already does. She can barely stand to be in the same room as me,” he sighs, his head buried in his arms before him. Sleepily, and drunk out of his mind, he gazes up at you under his lashes – the sadness deep and prominent within his eyes. “She could’ve married someone else if I never came into her world, you know? She could’ve married a Lord, or-or a Duke. Hell, she could have been a Princess from another Kingdom. She deserved all that and more. Instead she’s stuck with me and I–” his breaths stuttered, “–I’m no one.”

That was it. You’d had enough of his pity party. Did he really come all the way here just to feel bad about himself? Sliding the glass towards the bartender’s way, you grabbed Rintaro by the arm, heaving at his nearly dead weight. “Rin. Please. Let’s go home.”

“I have no home,” he whines, and it’s only now you notice the tears glistening in his eyes. “I don’t have a wife, I lost my girlfriend who’s pregnant with my child, and I – where would I go? There’s no place for me here.”

“You could go with me.”

“You’re not my wife. I don’t want to go anywhere without her.”

“Rintaro, I am your wife,” you repeat, shoving your left hand right in front of his face. He’s immediately entranced by the sight, and leans into the curve of your palm. “We wear the same rings, see? It’s me.”

The sigh he lets out is dreamy. “Yeah, I’m not sober enough for this. Now I’m seeing her too.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, you lead him back to the bar, and help him sit down without falling on his bottom. “Okay, how about this? I get you a few more drinks, and then I’ll take you back to your wife, alright? I heard the Princess was looking for you.”

Rintaro’s sniffles grow louder as he avoids your gaze. “Why would she? She’s happier now that she’s with Kiyoomi. He’s the better man, anyway, better than me in all aspects.”

The memory of Kiyoomi’s lips flashed through your mind. Faintly, you wondered if this was considered hurting Kiyoomi’s feelings – running after your husband, and tending to him when he was not in his right mind. Just the thought of Kiyoomi patiently waiting for you back at Belleview Manor broke your heart. Or maybe he paced back and forth, anxiously opening his phone every minute to check if you’d updated again – you hadn’t.

But you would return, that you knew. The past few days with him – no, everything had made your decision clear. Regardless of whatever happened next… if Rintaro would be taken away by the police, or if the Queen disposed of him first, you’d already made your mind.

You were going to choose Kiyoomi.

But tonight… tonight, Rintaro needed you. Cupping his face in your hands, you levelled his gaze with yours, putting on your warmest smile – just like how you always did whenever Rintaro ran to you, worried and burdened with his day’s work. Even if he couldn’t truly recognize you, at least your touch would – hopefully – be familiar enough. “She’s worried for you, and she sent me here to take you home. She said she wants to talk.”

“She still wants to talk to me?”

Your heart ached. You’d never heard Rintaro sound this… helpless before, and at the same time hopeful. “Of course, Rin. Always.”

“Fine,” he relents, “but you’re paying for my drinks.”

You discreetly signal to the bartender, sliding over a generous amount of cash to cover all the drinks he’d ‘ordered.’ Thankfully, he understands your silent plea, nodding and begins to serve him water instead. Rintaro, too lost in his own world, didn’t seem to notice the change as he continued to down glass after glass.

Once he had reached his limit, you gently took his arm, guiding him away from the bar and through the club. To say the journey back to your car was arduous was an understatement. Rintaro kept leaning heavily on you, his weight almost too much for you to bear. His stumbling steps made your own balance precarious, especially in your delicate kitten heels. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep you both upright as you navigated the crowded, uneven terrain outside the club.

The rocky pavement outside made the task a lot more challenging than it should be. Each step was a battle, your husband’s larger frame swaying with each faltering step. You glanced around, spotting one of his cars parked far away, but you ignored it and focused on bringing him to yours instead. You’d just have to take care of the traces he left later.

With great effort – and a lot of sweat – you finally managed to get him to your car. You opened the back door, easing him inside. Rintaro whined and resisted, but you persisted, swatting his hands away to get him settled.

You managed to manoeuvre him into the backseat, checking twice to ensure he was comfortable enough before closing the door. Before you could, Rintaro suddenly reached out to you, his fingers tugging at your sleeves. “Wait,” he pleads, his eyes huge and vulnerable.

“What?”

“Need to... need to look good,” he rambled on, stretching his long legs at the backseat and tugging at his own shirt. The material is already wrinkled beyond belief, the top buttons undone. He keeps fidgeting with it, grabbing your hands to help him fix it. Stunned, your hands hover awkwardly over his chest – unsure if buttoning it up for him would be enough to satisfy him. “Do I look good? Don’t wanna – don’t wanna look drunk. She’ll get mad. Don’t want my wife seeing me like this.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words. Sighing, you reached over and closed the top buttons, patting his chest down as if to say ‘there you go.’ “You look fine. Stop grumbling.”

Convinced enough, Rintaro stops fidgeting. You were about to close the car door once more when he suddenly pulled you next to him. You squealed, barely catching your balance as you fell beside him. In one, swift movement, Rintaro had laid down and rested his head on your lap, his long legs awkwardly curled beneath him. There, he sighs, his large hands fisting your dress as you sit still – unable to move.

“Just a few more hours, please? I want to sleep.”

You agree, finding it difficult to say no when Rintaro was so… clingy like this. It wasn’t like you could return to the Palace, anyway. Rintaro would most likely be a target of the Police, and the entire government now that everyone knows he was a fraud. He didn’t need to go back to that. You’d rather keep him here – in your lap, safe and sleepy and warm. Unable to help it, you run your hands through his hair, carding your fingers through the strands and raking your nails against his scalp. It causes him to purr like a cat, the sound entertaining before he buries himself closer to your stomach.

“...Nice.”

“What?”

“Said you smell nice. Smell like my wife.”

The morning sunlight filtered through the car windows, its warmth gently jostling you awake. You blinked blearily, momentarily disoriented as you realized you’d fallen asleep. As you tried to move, you noticed the weight on your lap.

Rintaro was asleep there, his face relaxed and peaceful. The harsh lines of stress and pain that usually marked his features were smoothed away as he slumbers, making him appear younger, almost innocent.

You stared at him for a little longer, captivated by the rare serenity in his expression. Your fingers began to move on their own accord, gently caressing his cheek. His skin was warm under your touch, and you marvelled at how different he looked now. In sleep, he seemed free from the burdens that weighed so heavily on him during his waking hours. But now? Your heart softened as you traced the line of his jaw, wishing you could freeze this moment in time – preserve this fleeting glimpse of the man you had once fallen madly in love with.

You hesitated in waking him up, choosing instead to let him rest a little longer.

Carefully, you reached for your purse, digging through it to find your phone. The screen lit up with several missed calls and a flurry of texts from your parents, their messages frantic and pleading for you to answer and tell them where you were. Amongst the many notifications, messages from Kiyoomi caught your eye. His last message read, “please… please tell me you’re safe.”

Your heart ached at his worry, but another message drew your attention. It was from Kuroo, his message short yet ominous: “Princess, I didn’t write this, but I think you should take a look.”

With shaky hands, you clicked on the link. As the article loaded, your anxiety surged – a cold dread settling in the pit of your stomach. You glanced down at Rintaro, still peacefully asleep, oblivious to the turmoil that awaited you both.

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐤𝐢: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲, 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

In a dramatic turn of events that has left the kingdom of Inarizaki reeling, the Queen has been seized by government officials following the revelation of her involvement in heinous crimes. The charges against Her Majesty are severe and include conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and fraud. This unprecedented upheaval marks a dark chapter in Inarizaki's royal history. The Queen stands accused of orchestrating the murder of her own husband, the late King, in a desperate bid to retain power. This shocking revelation came to light after a thorough investigation uncovered irrefutable evidence of her culpability. Additionally, it has been revealed that the Queen kidnapped an innocent baby, presenting him as the Crown Prince to solidify her control over the throne. This child, now known as Suna Rintaro, has been living under the false pretense of royal blood. The official charges against the Queen include: Conspiracy to Commit Murder, Kidnapping, Fraud, and High Treason. Government officials have acted swiftly, seizing Her Majesty and beginning the legal proceedings that will determine her fate. The palace is in turmoil as the full extent of her crimes comes to light. As the kingdom grapples with the Queen's treachery, another scandal has emerged, further destabilizing the royal family. Hours after former Princess Iris publicly revealed her true lineage, incriminating photos of Princess Suna, wife of Suna Rintaro, have surfaced. These photos, taken within the privacy of Belleview Manor, show Prince Kiyoomi and the Crown Prince's wife in a compromising and passionate embrace, confirming longstanding rumors of a cross-marriage affair. The scandal does not end there. Additional evidence has surfaced showing Princess Suna meeting with Kuroo Tetsuro, the notorious journalist responsible for exposing Iris and Rintaro’s affair. In these meetings, Princess Suna is seen paying Kuroo substantial sums of money, effectively funding his comfortable life abroad. It is now evident that Princess Suna orchestrated the recent articles that have shaken the kingdom, making her a clear threat and an enemy of the Crown. The public and government officials are now united in their stance: Princess Suna and Suna Rintaro must be stripped of their titles and exiled from Inarizaki. Their actions have sown discord and threatened the stability of the kingdom, and such betrayal cannot be tolerated. As Inarizaki faces this turbulent time, the hope for a restored and honest royal lineage is strong. The kingdom looks to the future, determined to heal and rebuild in the wake of these revelations. This story is still developing, and we will continue to provide updates as more information becomes available.

Panic surged through you as the article’s revelation settled in.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, each one more frantic than the last. You felt your chest tighten,, your heart pounding so hard as if it would burst. Desperation clawed at you, and you knew you had to get out of the car.

As gently as you could, you pushed Rintaro’s head off your lap, careful not to disrupt his sleep. He stirred slightly, but otherwise remained unconscious. You opened the door and stumbled out onto the pavement, your legs barely supporting you as you fell to your knees. The cold, hard ground bit into your skin, but the sensation was distant – the pain faint compared to the panic that was now beginning to consume you.

Your breaths were coming in ragged, uneven bursts now, your vision blurring with tears.

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to steady yourself as the world spun around you. You knew, without a doubt, that your own Kingdom had already turned against you.

With trembling fingers, you fumbled for your phone. You needed to hear his voice – the one person who could ground you, who could make you feel safe in the midst of all this mess. You found his contact and dialled, holding the phone to your ear with a grip so tight your knuckles turned white. Finally, the call connected, and you breathed out, letting the faint sound of Kiyoomi fumbling in the background like a lifeline.

“Kiyoomi?”

“Thank God you picked up. You weren’t answering any of my calls.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on each word, each comforting tone as you anchored yourself in the present. The world around you began to slow, your breathing gradually evening out. You took a deep, shaky breath, drawing strength from Kiyoomi’s presence, even if it was just through the phone.

“I-I don’t know what to do, Kiyoomi. What’s going on?”

Kiyoomi sighed from the other line. “It’s just as the news said. The Queen is being held by the government to answer for her crimes and you... you’re no longer allowed to return to the Palace. You’ve been deposed.”

“But that’s – that can’t happen. There should be a procedure, a legal procedure before they can strip me off my title!”

“I know, but with everything going on in the country right now, the officials have all decided to skip the formalities and proceed with making any unjust royal family member out of the Palace as soon as possible. You included,” more shuffling rings through the phone, and you hear a car door slamming shut. “But don’t worry, I’m heading out of the Palace right now. Tell me where you are. I’ll come find you.”

Nodding even if Kiyoomi couldn’t see it, you move to send him your location when your phone was suddenly ripped out from your hand. You watched, mouth agape, as Rintaro throws it to the ground and crushes it with the weight of his foot. You scrambled to stand up, fire raging in your veins as you looked at him – Rintaro was now awake, his hair still messed up from sleep, but his eyes were big and bright, like he’d been riding on a high.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I should be asking you that,” Rintaro glared at you, all the previous softness disappearing from his face. “Are you out of your mind? The news said we’re exiled. And you’re just giving our location to Kiyoomi like that?”

“That’s Kiyoomi! I trust him!”

“He’s a Prince, a member of the Royal Family – the same family you’re no longer a part of. I don’t care if you think you can trust him, there’s nothing he can do for you.”

“Oh, but you can do something about it?”

Rin flinched like he’d been slapped. Still, he kept his composure, his hands planted on his hips as he sighed and looked around you. You were nearly in the middle of nowhere – in the outskirts of the city, far from the inquisitive gaze of the Palace. It was almost hard to believe how so much had happened in such a short span of time, but Kiyoomi was right. Iris wouldn’t let it end there. If she was going to fall, she was going to take everyone down with her.

“I can’t help you, but you heard what they said. I’m exiled – I’m leaving this damned country.”

Your husband slammed the car door shut, and began to walk towards his car. “Rin,” you called out to him, taking two steps at a time to match his pace. “Rin, would you please just stop? Let’s talk!”

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

You stopped in your tracks, surprised when he’d turned your away. Rintaro’s face was flushed red, the vein on his neck prominent. “Why are you so angry? Oh, is it because your plans have been ruined and you can’t become King anymore, is that it? Because Iris is gone now, and you can’t have her?”

“Seriously? After all this time, you still can’t get over that?”

The laugh you let out is incredulous. “How can I? You kicked me out of our room a few days ago because you said you wanted to take care of her!”

Rintaro’s face hardens. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, thank you so much for telling me, because that totally changes everything,” you throw your hands up in the air, stomping to where he stood just to sneer at his face. “You really expect me to believe you stopped caring about her? The moment your girlfriend was kicked out of the Palace, what did you do? Oh, right. You went to some dingy, ‘exclusive’ anonymous nightclub and got drunk out of your mind. I think its crystal clear you needed a distraction from the pain of losing her.”

Rintaro scoffed, baring his teeth as he takes on your challenge and comes closer, your noses brushing. “What pain? I couldn’t care less that she’s gone. She never loved me anyway.”

“Then why drink yourself half to death last night? You could’ve been in real danger if I didn’t come looking for you.”

“You shouldn’t have, then.”

“A thank you would suffice.”

Rintaro’s face hardens. He takes more steps, forcing you to walk backwards until you were back to where you started – your back hitting the edge of your car. He looms over you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t decipher. “Why did you look for me, huh? My mistress is gone. She’s out of your hair, and you could’ve had everything you wanted. Why else bother looking for me when all I did was hurt you?”

He practically forces the confession out of you. “Because I was worried about you!”

In an instant, Rintaro’s heat disappears. He flings himself backward like you’d burned him, frowning as he stares you incredulously. Then, he lets out a laugh that sounded more like a pained choke. “You are many things, but I never thought you could be a liar.”

“Liar? What are you talking about?”

He meets your gaze, his eyes cold and daring. “You don’t care about me.”

“Yes, I do!”

“No, you don’t! You know the truth, Y/N. I’m not a Prince – never have been, and never will be. You couldn’t possibly care for a fraud. You know it, too. I’m a nobody, and you were always better than me.”

Rintaro’s words hung in the air, each one landing with a weight that nearly suffocated you. Was that how he thought of you the whole time? That you’d... hated him? Thought of him differently because he wasn’t the King’s son? The very notion left you appalled. The ground beneath you felt like it shifted, your heart clenching painfully at the broken expression he wore. Shame, guilt – it all swam in the dark pools of his eyes, mingling with sorrow as you stared at him.

How could he think that, after everything?

His voice carried defeat, almost as if he wanted you to hate him, as if he believed it would make things easier.

The realization itself twisted something deep inside you. You didn’t hate him – not even close. Maybe you hated what he did, the lies that he’d kept and the facade he’d put on, pretending that he’d loved you when he didn’t. But him not being the King’s son? What did that change? Stood before you was still Rintaro, not Suna, the man you’d adored and cursed from the moon and the back. The thought that he’d been carrying this belief, suffering under it, cut you more deeply than any betrayal. Somehow, this hurt more than finding out he had another.

The fact that this whole time, Rintaro truly believed you looked down on him for not being a Prince. How could he have been so wrong?

The breath was knocked out of you, your shoulders deflating as every muscle in your body softened. “You may not be a Prince, but you’re still my husband. I still care.”

You watched the change in his expression as the words left your lips.

His eyes widened in shock, the disbelief evident against the relief that slowly unfurled across his face. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest, his breath catching in his throat. But beneath that relief, confusion lingered, the doubts overshadowing your confession. It was as if he was trying to convince himself that you were wrong, that you should hate him, that your kindness was a mistake.

You could see it all – how Rintaro desperately wanted to believe you, yet he still clung to the pain of his insecurities like it was all he knew.

“If you care so much,” his voice broke as he spoke, “Then why did you kiss Kiyoomi?”

His question struck you like a blow to the chest. The words echoed in your mind, rendering you frozen in place. How could you answer that? How could you justify what you’d done? You could say you didn’t mean it, that you’d regretted it, but that would be a lie. You’d wanted to kiss Kiyoomi. It was a long overdue kiss, and until now, you still wanted to run back into his arms and have him tell you everything would be okay.

And that must show in your face – your blatant infatuation with the Second Prince. Rintaro’s face was a mixture of hurt and confusion as his gaze landed on your lips, probably picturing the way you’d kissed someone else. It made you feel small, like a child caught with their hand deep in a cookie jar. Your mind race, searching for an explanation, a way to make him understand, but all you could feel was the crushing sense of betrayal you’d inflicted on him – on both of you.

The truth was too messy, one that you couldn’t explain yourself. You cared for Rintaro, would do anything to protect him and save him from the mess he’d been tangled in. But you also loved Kiyoomi, loved tangling your hands in his curls, and laying your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. You would fight a far for your husband, but when that war was over?

You would run straight home to Kiyoomi.

Still, you wanted to reach out. To say something, anything, that would take away the pain in his eyes, but the words were lodged deep in your throat. All you could do was stare at him, realizing too late you had hurt him in a way that might never fully feal.

“So you love him,” he concluded, and when you didn’t refuse, Rintaro nodded to himself – letting the words sink in. One of his hands were planted on his hips, the other fisted on his lip with his brows furrowed. “Was it... was it after I kicked you off to Belleview Manor? Or has it... have you liked him for longer than that?”

Since Itachiyama, you wanted to say, almost apologetically, since the day you kept choosing her over me.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a distant rumble interrupted the silence, growing louder and more distinct with each passing second. You barely had time to process it before Rintaro moved, his hand suddenly gripping your arm with a firm urgency.

Rintaro pulled you down, hiding you both behind the car. You followed his lead, heart pounding in your chest as you pressed your face against his back, the creases of his shirt bundled in your palms. Crouched low, the cold pavement pressing against your knees, you watched as he cautiously peeked over the car’s hood, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The sound of engines grew louder, more ominous – like the sound of your end nearing. You dared to peek from above Rintaro’s shoulder until you could make out the distinct patterns of royal emblems on some of the vehicles, followed closely by the flashing lights of police cars.

Fear gripped at you. You could feel your heart pulsing all the way up to your tongue, your breaths coming faster as you glanced at your husband. Rintaro’s expression mirrored your panic, eyes wide and intense.

The vehicles were closing in, fast and steady, like predators hunting their prey. You both knew that your time was running out, that you were no longer Prince and Princess. Exiled. Dethroned. Hunted like the lowly criminals you both were.

Rintaro wasted no time. He yanked you up as gently as he could by your wrist, guiding you into the passenger’s seat before he slammed the door close, and hopped onto the driver’s side. His movements are frantic as he started up the car, letting the engine hum fill the vehicle. “Wear your seatbelt.”

“But Rin, you were just drunk last night–”

The engine roared to life as Rintaro slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. “I’m fine now, and I drive faster than you. You know that. Wear your seatbelt.”

The car lurched forward, tires screeching against the pavement. You felt your body press back into the seat as your heart pounded in time with the racing vehicle. The world outside blurred into a streak of colours as you shot down the road, the cool morning air rushing in through the partially open windows.

You could hear the shriek of sirens behind you, the vehicles in pursuit closing in fast.

Adrenaline surged through your veins, sharp and intoxicating, as your mind raced to keep up with the unfolding chaos. This was real. This was happening. You were no longer just royals entangled in a web of lies and deceit – you were fugitives now, running from a government that once hailed you as symbols of hope and power.

Rintaro’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he weaved through the narrow streets with a precision born of desperation. Each sharp turn sent her stomach lurching, the tires skidding dangerously close to the edges of the road. You cried out his name, and Rintaro hissed as he swerved back to safety. You could see the cityscape flashing by in jagged, disorienting bursts – the familiar landmarks rendered alien the further you flew away.

The vehicles behind you were relentless, engines howling as they sped after you with unyielding force. The sirens were deafening, mocking.

You glanced over at Rintaro, seeing the intense focus etched into his features, the slight tremor in his jaw as he pushed the car harder, faster, willing it to escape the grip of your pursuers.

The realization hit you like a physical blow – you were criminals now. Your life of luxury, of duty, and privilege, it was all over. Everything you had known, everything you had believed in, was crumbling away behind you, left in the dust of your panicked escape. There was no going back now, no return to the life you once had. You would have to leave everything behind – the Palace, the titles, your parents, Kiyoomi.

The car swerved violently as Rintaro took a sharp corner, the tires screeching as you fought for traction. The chase had spilled deeper into the outskirts of the city, where the streets were narrower, the buildings older and more decrepit. The vibrant pulse of the city was fading, giving way to a desolate stretch of road that seemed to go on forever, before it disappeared into the horizon like a thin thread of hope.

Beside you, Rintaro’s face was set in grim desperation, his eyes locked on the road ahead as the car surged forward, fuelled by the desperate need to escape. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding between you that this was your only chance.

And with that, you accepted your fate.

This was the path you had chosen – no, the path that been forced upon you. The chase continued, the world outside becoming a blur of speed and danger. You braced yourself for whatever lay ahead, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

“They’re getting close,” Rintaro said through gritted teeth. One glance at the rear view mirror confirmed your worst fears; they were closing in on you, and that meant the end was nearing. You knew without a doubt that as soon as the government laid their hands on you, everything was over. Rintaro would be exiled, or worse, executed for infiltrating the sacred walls of the Palace – even if it hadn’t been his fault. And you would lose everything, everyone, that you ever cared about. You couldn’t let that happen. “Fuck! I need something to get them off my tail!”

You moved without thinking.

Reaching for the gun secretly stashed in the glove compartment, you quickly rolled the windows down, the upper half of your body carefully sliding out as you unlatched the seatbelt. “Hey!” Rintaro shouted, “What are you doing? Get back! It’s not safe!”

“I’m still the General’s daughter. They won’t shoot,” eyes narrowed, you aimed at the nearest police car who’d been hot on your heels. There was only a few inches left before they could bump into you. “But I will.”

There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt.

The rush of the wind whipped through the car, pulling at your skin and stinging your eyes. Your finger hovered over the trigger, the world narrowing down to the police car’s tire, spinning so fast it seemed almost like a blur.

You fired.

The crack of the gunshot echoed in your years, the sound so loud it was deafening. You watched as the bullet hit its mark, the tire exploding in a burst of rubber and metal. The police car veered wildly, the driver losing control as the vehicle swerved violently across the road. Then, with a sickening lurch, it tumbled over, metal screeching against asphalt as it rolled, flipping end over end before it crashed into the guardrail. The screech of tires and the crash of metal filled the air as the cars behind it desperately slammed on their brakes, unable to avoid the wreckage. One by one, they collided, a chaotic pileup of twisted metal and broken glass until the entire road was blocked.

You slid back into your seat, your breathing ragged, your chest painfully tight.

Your hands were still shaking, the gun trembling in your grasp. Cold sweat dotted your skin, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you stared at wreckage left behind you. The pursuing cars had been held back, unable to continue the chase.

The road was clear.

Rintaro pressed down harder on the gas, sending the car forward with renewed speed. The roar of the engine filled the car, its sound fierce and almost primal. You could feel the velocity pulling you back into your seat, your body slamming onto the leather.

As the wreckage disappeared from view, the chaotic noise behind you fading into the distance, you let out a shaky breath. You glanced down at the gun in your hands, the metal still cool against your skin despite the heat of the moment. It had been necessary, but the reality of what you had done settling heavily. You exhaled, trying to calm the trembling in your hands.

Rintaro eyed you from his seat, his jaw clenched before he glanced back at the road. “Do you know what you just did?” You nodded, tears now brimming at your lash line. “You’ve just officially declared that we’re at war with the country. They’re never going to let us go.”

“I know,” you were crying now – the tears unstoppable as you pressed your palms against your eyes. “I know.”

Rintaro was quiet for a moment. So quiet you wondered if he was still there, and he was. The tension never left his face, and he never once slowed down in his speed. But he was calmer, in some ways, his face set into a determined frown. “We can’t go back. We can’t say goodbye to anyone anymore.”

You couldn’t say goodbye to Kiyoomi.

“Where are we going, Rin?”

“Far,” was all he says, and the road that stretched before you suddenly seemed endless. “Far, far away from here where they can’t hurt you.”

“You mean us.”

“Of course,” he stole a quick glance at you, surprising you when you saw how his face had softened. Almost as if he’d already accepted that the life he’d lived was never his, and he had nothing but the future ahead of himself. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise. But if you... if you tell me to turn back, I will. I’ll find a way to get you back to Kiyoomi–”

“No,” you interjected, and Rintaro’s eyes widened. “I... I’m staying with you.”

Rintaro’s eyes scanned your face, looking for the answers. “Are you absolutely certain? You don’t have to, you know. This country can still forgive you, they can love you still–”

“I’m staying with you.”

“Okay,” he nodded, his face unreadable under the faint morning light. “Okay. It’s you and me.”

The decision to leave wasn’t easy.

It clawed at you, gnawed at the very fabric of your being, but you knew – deep down, in the place where love was both cruel and kind – that you couldn’t stay. You wanted to fight, to clear your name and prove to the world that you were innocent, to stand in front of the kingdom with your head held high. You wanted to see your parents again, feel their arms around you, hear their voices assure you that everything would be okay.

But even as these thoughts plagued your mind, they were outweighed by something stronger, something inescapable.

You thought of him – Kiyoomi, the Prince you ended up falling for. The one who’d stolen your heart, not with grand gestures, but with quiet moments, gentle touches, and promises whispered in the dark. You still remembered the warmth of being in his arms, the way he looked at you with eyes that saw through your soul, the comfort you found in his presence, and the future you’d dared imagined together. You had given him his heart when it felt all was too late, and he had given you his the moment you laid your eyes on his. Each one of you were willing to sacrifice so much for the other – it just never occurred to you that you would sacrifice Kiyoomi now.

And it hurt.

It hurt more than you could have ever imagined. The thought of leaving Kiyoomi behind, of crushing the trust he’d given you, of severing the bond you had formed – was a pain so deep it nearly made you want to ask Rintaro to turn back. At least let me say goodbye. Let me look at him one last time. You wanted to stay with him, to choose him, to finally build the life with Kiyoomi that he’d promised, but you couldn’t. He didn’t even have the littlest idea that that had been your last conversation, the last time you’d hear each other’s voices.

Because there was another man – Rintaro, your husband. The one who, despite everything, still held a huge fraction of your heart.

He was the one who needed you now, and he didn’t have anyone else. You’d seen the despair in his eyes, the loneliness that consumed him, the way his eyes didn’t quite match what he said as it held the silent please for you to not abandon him, to not cast him aside like everyone had. You knew him well enough to understand that if you left, he would disappear – not just from the world, but from life itself.

Rintaro would slip away, fade into the shadows, and you would never find him again. You couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t lose him like that.

So you chose him.

You chose to run away with him, to leave behind everything you’d known, everyone you’d loved. It was a choice born out of duty, of loyalty, and of the twisted love that still tied you to him. It was the right choice, not that it made it any easier. The ache in your heart would remain and scar you forever, haunted by the knowledge you would never see Kiyoomi again, never hold him, never tell him how much he’d meant to you.

It was a loss you would carry with you for the rest of your life.

But you couldn’t do it any other way, couldn’t have gone a different path and not think of Rintaro still. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you’d left him alone, if you let him slip away into the darkness that beckoned him. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness, even if it meant leaving behind the one person who’d taught you to love again. You had to choose Rintaro, even if it came with the price of letting everything else go.

So you did.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and made the choice you knew would tear you apart. You ran away. And as the world blurred around you, as you fled into the unknown, hand-in-hand with your husband, you couldn’t stop thinking of the Prince you’d left behind – the man who would always hold your heart in his hands, even if you could never return to him.

“You and me, Rin.”

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou x reader #rintaro suna x reader #kiyoomi x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x you #kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #cw: incest #cw: gun #suna rintarou x fem! reader #suna rintaro angst #suna x reader angst

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thesilmarillionblog · 5 months ago

Text

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭: 𝟑

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: You and Soldier Boy want to create a family and move on from everything, even the Vought, but you also know that he has to face Homelander one last time to keep his vow to Butcher. However, nothing turns out as you had hoped.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, memory loss, Soldier Boy gets hurt, reader gets hurt, language, established relationship, everyone is liar, reader is manipulated, suspense

Word Count: 5206

A/N: English is not my first language.

He would make a great son if he didn't mean to be a great father.

That's what he thought when Homelander entered the locked room; his father was locked up. Leaning through the glass, he whispered, "All this time."

In other words, his father did not die. He should have known since, aside from Homelander, his father, Soldier Boy, was the most powerful Supe in the whole world. It seemed impossible for anyone to kill him, and no one could. There were some differences between Homelander and his father, but they differed from the other supes.

Homelander's eyes softened as he peered at his father, who lay peacefully unconscious in the box from the gas he had endured. They should rule the world together as father and son.

And Ryan.

Homelander inhaled deeply as he considered his son. It was undoubtedly another problem. Butcher was the reason behind it all. He was a fucking son-stealing piece of trash. When he had the chance, he should have slaughtered Butcher. There were a lot of opportunities lost. Now that he was most likely the one who killed Vicky, Homelander felt compelled to act because things were undoubtedly getting out of control.

Homelander opened the box without thinking, and the guardian stared at him in horror.

Ben quickly moved his arms to remove the handcuffs that were tying him to the bed after getting rid of the gas that was making him sleep like a fucking rat. He didn't waste any time opening his eyes and getting to his feet. This time, he knew he was somewhere else. God only knows how much time has passed since then.

Ben didn't care that the guardian ran out of the room. At last, he was free once more.

“Where the fuck am I?” Seeing Homelander in front of him, Ben asked.

“I-” Homelander tried to speak, but he was surprised that his father had not attacked him right away. He was ready for another fight, in fact. “Dad, I came here to save you. I had no idea you were still alive,” Homelander muttered, yearning for some praise from him.

Ben's eyes instantly opened as he thought about all that had transpired, and he blinked again. “Where the fuck is Butcher?” he asked, his mind instantly racing with images of you. Ben's final memory of you was of you hitting your head really hard because of Butcher. But before he blew up, he knew your heartbeats were still strong.

Homelander said, “I don't know. We are searching for him everywhere, but it seems the CIA is working hard, doing their best to hide him and his fucking team.”

Ben remained silent, considering everything and casting a suspicious glance at Homelander.

“Why the hell have you saved me now?” Ben asked, closely observing Homelander. After all, Ben attempted to murder Homelander, his biological son, as well as his grandchild. If Butcher only didn't interrupt him, he would do it.

“Of course it's because you're my biological father,” Homelander stated, his gaze softening. He needed Soldier Boy to tell him he was proud of him, even though he hated to admit it. Homelander accomplished many things, but his constant yearning for his family was something else. “It's obvious we couldn't make a good start.”

After helping his father retrieve his suit, Homelander led the way to Vought Tower. Ben remained silent the entire time, although he was suspicious about Homelander. His heart ached as he remembered his times with you as he gazed out the window at the entire city. This time, he would kill Homelander there with his one and only mistake. Taking control of the entire tower wouldn't be difficult.

Homelander became worried when he noticed his father was silent and deep in thought, so he continued, “We—I'll kill every one of them soon.”

Ben snapped, “No,” and turned to face him. “There is one of them inside the team you should never lay a hand on.”

Confused, Homelander asked, “Who?”

When Ben said your name to him, Homelander simply nodded. He had seen you no more than twice. Even so, you weren't that significant.

“But why?”

“Because,” Ben answered in a raised voice. “I have to locate her right away, together with Butcher and the other members of the team. I'm going to kill that son of a bitch, for real this time, by myself.”

“Okay,” Homelander muttered, glad that Soldier Boy had already determined. He didn't even have to make an effort. “But I need something as well.”

“What the fuck is it?” Ben asked in a severe tone. He was sick and tired of being begged for assistance only to have it turned against him.

“I and the vice president cleaned your name, so the public will not be hating on you anymore, and all we need is your support and using your power to convince people that our country is safe from now on.”

“And why the fuck would I do that?” Ben moved forward and inquired. He has had enough of dealing with business matters. “Why would I even believe that you're all fucking different than Butcher and you will not deceive me?”

Homelander was clearly startled by his father's lack of trust, and his mouth dropped wide. “I'm..your son and I saved you.” Homelander spoke as if it were the most ordinary thing ever.

Ben inhaled deeply, obviously uninterested in the situation at all, but he didn't want the CIA to play games with him any longer, and the arrangement wasn't worse than Butcher's offer. If not, he would be forced to murder a lot of people very soon.

“Fine, but keep in mind that even if you find her before me, nothing bad will happen to Y/N. If not, the deal is offer,” Ben stated at the end. “I suppose I'll just have to put up with this nasty shit and forget that I was beating my meat into a cup just for them to create another me; a total disappointment.”

Homelander felt the impact of Ben's remarks hit hard, but he decided to ignore them. It was enough of a start, and there were things to do. He would ultimately beat Butcher and the CIA with Soldier Boy's assistance and reclaim his son. With his family by his side, he was going to transform this nation into a paradise, just as it should be.

“Frenchie,” Butcher angrily called him. “Will you ever fucking get this thing ready?”

With a frustrated sigh, Frenchie, who was working on Kimiko's ripped and infected leg, turned Butcher and pleaded, “I'm working day and night; give me some rest.”

Kimiko, expressing her support for Frenchie, shot Butcher a glare.

“Well, we all will take a nice break when Homelander breaks this door with his daddy, Soldier Boy, and lasers our hairy asses one by one, won't we?”

You hurriedly added, “I'm sure he cares and takes this issue seriously as much as you do, Butcher,” attempting to support Frenchie, who was already under a lot of pressure.

With a muttered, “Fucks sake,” Butcher put his head in his hands.

You asked, “Are you okay?” Clearly, he was the most stressed person in the room.

With a feeble smile, he said, “Yeah, sure,” and walked across the lab to a chair.

You noticed that Frenchie and Kimiko were having a heated discussion when you glanced at them. While working, Frenchie was cautioning Kimiko to stay away from the virus.

You put your hand on Butcher's shoulder after noticing him deep in thought while he smoked. “Are you really okay?”

He answered, “Of course I am,” but his smile didn't reach his lips. “It's all going to end soon after all, once Frenchie gets this thing ready.”

You stated firmly, “He's talented and, most importantly, determined. With each other, we'll overcome this. You'll see.”

You cautiously inquired, “What exactly happened with Soldier Boy?” after he nodded to you.

Butcher turned to face you, his expression conveying annoyance. “Why are you asking this?”

“I thought that it would be best to be informed about changes while I was away. You know, just to catch up. I had long since believed he had already died. Really, I can't believe he's still alive. Everything is just too much.”

Butcher rubbed his eyes, smoked another cigarette, and said, “Alright. He had been held captive in Russia for decades, but the CIA decided to free him in exchange for defeating Homelander. It appeared that we were out of options for the time being. Clearly, the cunt is powerful.”

“And?”

“It came out that Homelander is his son, and after he eventually betrayed us, father and son have come together again. That's the story.”

You asked with disbelief, “Did he change his idea just because Homelander is his son?”

“Who knows?” However, Butcher remained silent, his gaze fixed on Frenchie.

“But, sweetie, some things are certain. He isn't a good man. He deserves to die, no matter what, because he is just as evil as Homelander. He killed innocent people in New York, then in Herogasm. Those were innocent people. Like Homelander and the other members of the Seven. He is a mentally ill, self-centered bad guy.”

You were surprised to see how serious he was, yet you still managed to respond, “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Y/N,” Butcher called you when he noticed you were confused. “Homelander and Soldier Boy must both die, no matter what. You are aware that it's for the best, right?”

You were taken aback by his questioning and sincerity as well, but you managed to mumble, “Of course I'm aware of that. Whenever I'm needed, I'll contribute what I can. I swear to you on that.”

“If you ever come across him, remember to never believe anything he says, okay? All he is is a dangerous cunt.”

Even though you were perplexed and didn't fully get what he was saying, you nevertheless nodded. "Butcher, I promised you. Since we are a team, I support your desire for Homelander to die. We all want that here. You will see that we will overcome this."

When Butcher realized you were trying your hardest to stand by him, he gave you another weak smile. He was aware that you would try to kill him there and never forgive him once you learned the truth. But he knew that this was a game he had to play.

Although it was cruel and unjust to you, Butcher really used your memory loss as a tool to his advantage because Homelander and Soldier Boy had to die, and if he needed to use you to accomplish this, he would use you without blinking an eye. After all, in wartime, nothing was fair.

Butcher did all within his power to mislead you: he erased your existence from the moment you met Soldier Boy, ensured that Kimiko and Frenchie would never discuss your abortion, and persuaded the team to speak with you as though it were their first time meeting.

He didn't plan for Soldier Boy to awaken once more, of course. The worst thing that might have happened did really happen. Butcher, though, had to keep his cool and play his game with you all. He was certain that you didn't feel any form of attachment toward him; therefore, it didn't matter if he told you everything that had transpired months prior.

But it would still be better if Soldier Boy was unable to find you.

Butcher rolled his eyes, sensing what was about to happen when Annie gave him a look as he watched you move away from him and hang around with Frenchie and Kimiko. Sometimes Annie was such a pain in the ass.

“Are you even aware of the seriousness of the issue, Butcher?” Annie asked in a sour tone.

“You're simply exaggerating. She is quite happy in that sense, even if she can't recall a single fucking thing. Everything's fine.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Annie exclaimed, “I fucking can't believe you. He's fucking going to kill all of us when he finds her and discovers your lies about him.”

Butcher remarked, “He won't find her,” annoyance evident in Annie's voice. “What do you believe will happen even if he does, which is not at all important? Will she recall him suddenly? No fucking way.”

“What happens if she does? She is going to hate each and every one of us, but above all, Soldier Boy will murder us. Butcher, he's fucking free. Are you blind?” Annie attempted to keep calm as she talked, but it was difficult to argue with Butcher without becoming outraged.

“Stop being a fucking coward; you're just exaggerating the issue, and what if she doesn't act like she does?”

“What do you mean?” Annie asked, perplexed.

“I spent hours considering this. We could definitely benefit if she fucking forgets everything. We will just make her believe that they have a background that is obviously unimportant and biased if he speaks with her, and she will choose to assist us in killing Homelander and him.”

“Oh my god, you're insane,” Annie muttered as she stroked her head. “Everything is being calculated, except for Y/N's emotions. It would be even worse if she were to suddenly remember that we would be using her to kill Soldier Boy. She cannot pretend to love him while she is completely clueless and confused.”

“You're absolutely mistaken, sweetie; she has no feelings for him. All they did was fuck, that's all. Even if she doesn't recall anything, that will put us in a strong position. Soldier Boy doesn't give a fuck about her. He's an awfully self-centered jerk.”

“I'm not sure, Butcher. In the previous few months, they were pretty close. He may have feelings for her, and if so, he must already be looking for her everywhere. I hate to admit this, but it's possible.”

“Annie, don't be a fool. Please stop making me laugh, will you? He is the type of man who will never, ever fall in love. Did you witness him brutally murdering Crimson Countess? You fuking did. He had declared that she was his true love. What happened then? Without batting an eye, he fucking slaughtered her. He had only known Y/N for a single year, but he had known Crimson for years. The cunt is not and will never be in love with her. It's a good thing she can't recall anything at all about him.”

Butcher's mention of the Crimson Countess issue gave Annie some relief. He killed his girlfriend as soon as he was released, proving that he was, in fact, an obsessed psychopath.

“So you're going to turn her into both a hunter and a prey at the same time? If Soldier Boy ever finds her, will you tell her the truth about everything that happened between her and him?” Annie asked while she saw you two laughing with Kimiko.

“She will know what she needs, nothing more.” Butcher's mind raced with ideas about your abortion and pregnancy. Though it was difficult, he was doing his best to push the bitter moment behind his memory. His only wish was that you would never know this. “You don't tell her anything about anything if she suspects something, alright?”

“I know, I know,” Annie muttered, becoming irritated at the situation's whole complexity. “But I'm not quite sure, Butcher. She has been kind to everyone for more than a year, but she is naive. I believe we are violating her trust.”

Butcher just responded, “No,” in a tone that seemed detached. “We're doing our best for her. She and Soldier Boy would never have a life together. Is that something you can think about? It's preferable to help her overcome this than to witness her breakdown due to a false sense of reality. She needs a real life. She's better off without him, or else she'll die the same fate as Crimson Countess. She holds no importance for him.”

“Yeah,” Annie murmured. “I guess you're right.”

There was nothing at all about you, even if Ben waited for hours to gather information about you, even if it was something else. You seemed to be missing.

“Will you fucking put in more effort?” He looked at the woman staring at the computer in front of her, attempting to find something with shaky hands, and he added angrily, “Why is this fucking company paying you for?”

“I apologize, sir,” she muttered. She appeared as though she would burst into tears in a second. “We're all trying our hardest to locate or find a thing about her, but nothing at all has been found. Not even one thing at all. She seems to be nonexistent.”

Ben completely lost patience after she finished speaking, and as he glared at her with hate and disgust, he grabbed one of the room's tables and threw it away, causing terrified witnesses to gasp in terror.

“Please, sir,” the woman pleaded, asking to speak again. “Just give me some more time.”

“I'll kill every one of you before I fire your useless fucking cunts. If you fucking don't find her, Butcher, or anyone else I told you to find, you're all fired. I swear to you that. Understood?”

Her hands were fisted in her skirt as she took a swallow and watched Soldier Boy depart the room before he broke down more computers in a fit of rage. “Yes, sir,” she responded in a shaking voice.

Ben turned to face his surroundings and peered out the window, looking in on the entire city, which was a flurry of lights and sounds. Since he was free, his supe hearing was much more sensitive, and he tried his hardest to concentrate on every sound in the area in an attempt to desperately detect a trace of you, but there was nothing.

Ben's heart hurt with grief and agony, recalling your last conversation the night before the catastrophe. It was getting unbearable how much he had missed you. He had no idea that one day he would be sitting in the Vought chair and you would disappear. God knows where you were.

Despite his assurances to you to avoid Vought and all associated matters, he ultimately resumed his business with Vought. He was left with no other option. He would play their games, though, if it meant protecting you and himself. Ben was merely unsure about your possible reaction to everything, though.

Ben was confident that you had already seen the media speech he gave earlier. When he found you, he would explain his actions, even if you were presumably disappointed to see him collaborating with Homelander and Vought. He didn't want a life without you. He just wanted to live a life with you, far from everything else, but he realized that as long as he remained as Soldier Boy—the world's toughest superhero—that wouldn't be possible.

Ben gave himself a sour smile as he thought back to your final day together. He had really missed your cheerful and lighthearted attitude toward him. However, even after he made it clear to the media that he would be in the Vought Tower, where were you, and why did you still refuse to approach him?

“Dad?” Ben scowled as Homelander muttered.

“For god's sake, stop fucking calling me that.” Ben remarked angrily, “You sound like a pathetic little child. Fuck, it's so fucking weird and makes me feel like a fossil.”

Homelander responded, “All right, fine,” while glaring at him with hurt pride. “You need to talk to some of the politicians who back us and build a little goodwill in order to start off well. Though the Vice President and I have made it abundantly clear that you will always have our backing and our support for you, too, certain voices still persist because of an incident that happened months ago in New York. Fixing the issue is better, and it would be even better if you went alone, you know. I am actually expected at the meeting, but I have things to do.”

“Christ, I fucking hate this already,” Ben murmured in an angry tone. It felt like decades ago when he was always in communication with the politicians. He was going to become sick. “And what the hell will you be doing?”

“It appears that a few executives and individuals with significant knowledge about the company are absent. I must locate them and take care of the situation.” Homelander sighed, as if there was just too much to get done. He was just thinking about A-Train's betrayal. He needed to locate him as quickly as possible.

“Okay, this is the best I could do so far. I think it's strong, but I'm not sure if it's strong enough to kill Homelander,” Frenchie remarked, showing the virus in a little tube in his hands as everyone stared at him nervously. “We have to give it a shot.”

With a dubious glance at Frenchie, Butcher seized the tube and examined the virus closely. “How much do you think it's strong?”

“I cannot say something without trying.”

With a furious sigh, Butcher began to consider his options. He understood that going forward, he would need to take extra caution. Everybody was proceeding carefully.

MM remarked, “We have to try this, Butcher,” and you remained silent, observing Butcher's expression.

At last, Butcher remarked, “Alright, ladies. As far as my knowledge, tonight Ninja Cunt and Octupus Fucker are hosting a party, and of course, politicians will be present. Soldier Boy and Homelander will not be there. This indicates that we are getting close to killing Homelander if we are able to eliminate Flying Narcoleptic Cunt. Then we will strengthen it so that it can kill Soldier Boy and Homelander too.”

“It seems like a suicide attempt to me,” MM remarked, but the way he looked was devoid of fear.

You remarked, “Where there are politicians, it means it will be well protected,” as you waited for Butcher to go into detail about his strategy.

“Damn, it's easy to go inside, sweetheart. Finishing the job is what matters most,” Butcher remarked, grinning and glancing between his fingers like a hunter does. “Their asses cannot get away from the CIA.”

“What do you think?” When Butcher saw everyone's bewildered expressions fixed on the virus-filled tube, he asked.

Annie sighed and added, “It's risky. Still, we must give this a try. We didn't have a lot of options left. Now, we just have one chance.”

Butcher smiled broadly at you all and put the tube in his pocket once you all nodded. “Then let's fucking kill some super-whores.”

You had to fight for nearly an hour until Butcher and the others agreed that you could do this assignment on your own since you needed to start somewhere. Even though you understood they were only worried for you, it was an important and dangerous decision from the very beginning. That was already known to you when Butcher accepted you into his team. It wasn't different at all from the first time you abducted Translucent; you knew the risks.

When you informed them that there would be neither Homelander nor Soldier Boy and that you were the finest shooter, they all at last consented to let you complete the job. It would be incredibly simple because you have never missed a shot before. But just in case something goes wrong—which you prayed it wouldn't—Kimiko will also be coming with you.

“Okay, now that you two listen to me. They're all going to show up, so your plan is to conceal and shoot Ninja Cunt when the opportunity presents itself. You only get one chance, and I have no doubt that you won't miss it. From here, all of us will be listening to you.” As you straightened your clothes and inhaled deeply, Butcher gave you a shoulder pat. “Are you still sure you want to do that?”

You quickly replied, “Of course,” and inserted the tube into your gun. “Kimiko will accompany me in any case. With her, I know I'm safe.”

Kimiko smiled broadly and gave you a thumbs up.

With Kimiko's assistance, you were able to ascend the house and reach a spot from where you could view the guests well. The third floor was the best place to avoid drawing attention to yourself. You also needed to know that you needed to keep your heart rate under control and be perfectly silent.

You spoke with Kimiko over the phone when you noticed that Black Noir and The Deep had joined the party and that politicians had shown up at the residence.

“We need to be quick.”

Kimiko gestured for you to point toward Black Noir's back, but before you could do so, you noticed Soldier Boy coming inside.

Your eyes grew wide, and you looked at Kimiko while covering your mouth to avoid making a sound. She was also afraid. You knew that you had to shoot Noir in order to see the virus's full force, even though Soldier Boy's entrance was unexpected. You weren't entirely sure about that, though, so you could even be able to shoot Soldier Boy.

You stayed as far away as you could and observed everyone conversing from the third floor while aiming for Noir. Your heart was beginning to race, and your hands were drenched in sweat. You prayed that no one would see you. You weren't built for this, maybe. Fuck.

Feeling uncertain about whether to shoot Noir or Soldier Boy, you continued to aim for Noir in accordance with the plan. It would have been a waste of time if it hadn't killed Soldier Boy.

You muttered, “Oh, god,” and then cursed yourself for speaking. At least everyone appeared to be quite busy, and there were much too many servants.

You sighed and put the gun into your jacket as Noir slipped out of sight. It was completely out of the blue for Soldier Boy to show up, yet you felt bad about ruining the mission. You turned to talk to Kimiko, but she was nowhere to be seen. Oh no.

What the hell was happening?

Ben gulped the moment he heard your small sound. Assuming he wasn't daydreaming or anything, he recognized your voice. He fucking knew it was you, even though he didn't know how. Perhaps you were looking for him and at last managed to get back to him.

Ben broke off his conversation with the dull politician and hurried to the third floor. The house had numerous rooms, but he concentrated on your heartbeat and breathing, which helped him find the correct door with ease. He was becoming overly excited about the possibility of you two getting back together.

His eyes instantly softened as he noticed you standing in front of the window, appearing perplexed. Ben closed the door behind him and came toward you without thinking, taking quick steps. He took you in his large, powerful arms and began to kiss you frantically.

“Fucking finally,” he whispered between his kisses. “It's so hard to find you, baby,” he said, taking you in his arms and swiftly setting you down on the table. It wasn't until he saw your face that he understood how much he had been missing you.

When Soldier Boy continued kissing you, you were so taken aback and terrified that you were unable to move to defend yourself. When he kept saying how much he missed you, you felt perplexed, and your head began to hurt so badly. But you didn't do anything to avoid upsetting him or anything.

Even if you didn't smell like anybody else, the last time he smelled your neck and hair, your scent was delicate and tender. But now, it was rather bitter and sad. Ben was confused, but he reasoned that it had to be because you had been apart for a while and were deeply missing one another. It was not a significant matter.

Fearing that he may harm you or something, you kissed him back. Then, as his hands were going to come into contact with your gun, you kissed him once more, even harder, pressing your hands on the armor on his chest. He moaned into your mouth, and you were close to crying because you had no idea what was going on, but all you could do was play his game, whatever it was. He had hands all over your body.

Ben pulled back, smiling as he looked at your swollen, red lips and kissed your forehead after hearing your heartbeat race. You didn't tell him that you missed him too, so his pride was a little damaged.

“It's been so long. Didn't you miss me?” Ben asked softly.

You had to get back to Butcher as quickly as you could. Why would Kimiko even abandon you alone in this place?

You nodded at Soldier Boy as your mind whirled with ideas. Perhaps Butcher could explain what was happening to you, but first you had to protect yourself from Soldier Boy.

Leaning his chin to meet your eyes, he said, “Hey, youre trembling, baby. You are safe with me here, so you don't need to be afraid.”

You said, “I don't know,” unsure of what to say. “I need to go,” you murmured, unsure of his reaction.

You freeze, seeing the darkness in his gaze.

“Where?” he asked harshly.

Ben felt confused and irritated to see you acting so distant and afraid of him. It was possible that anything occurred during his absence or that the reason you were acting this way was due to Vought and other ongoing issues.

As soon as you remembered what had transpired between him and Butcher, you closed your mouth and peered around the room. When you got the chance, you should have walked out of the house.

He imprisoned you on the table and said, “To Butcher and others?” in an annoyed tone, leaving you with nowhere to go. “No fucking way.”

You tried your luck again and whispered, “I don't want to stay here.”

Ben sighed and made an effort to ignore your stubbornness about going back to Butcher and the others while trying to contain his rage. He had hoped he was more important to you, but he knew you cared deeply about them.

“Baby,” Ben whispered, trying not to frighten you away while he gently touched your cheek and met your tearful eyes. “I know things didn't go as we hoped, but we can talk it out, don't you think?”

You tried to move free of his grip, but he didn't even move.

“I refuse to let you go. Not when you came to me like that,” he remarked. “You're coming with me.”

The mission failed, and you were in the hands of a monster.

Next Chapter

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rezwrites · 2 months ago

Note

Since we are in October… is there any chance you could write a Vampire!Agatha x reader? Agatha finding the most delicious blood of her entire long life (Reader’s blood) and getting excited/horny when she drinks Reader’s blood

love your writing

thank you sm!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, TW needles/blood/phlebotomy/venipuncture, blood kink, violence, allusion to kidnapping, non consensual thigh riding, unconsciousness

a/n: sry for going overboard with this, but vampire!hematologist!Agatha was so fun to write, I had to make a moodboard! <3

Waiting in the hematologists office you wring your fingers with nervousness, simultaneously regretting not bringing a light jacket to combat the chill of the air conditioner. You’ve heard nothing but good things about this doctor, hoping for some form of a miracle after cycling through many specialists only to come up empty-handed. It’s worth the out-of-city drive if you get some answers this time.

The nurse calls your name, taking you back to an examination room. As the nurse takes your temperature and vitals, you explain what’s been going on, going through routine questions. After jotting everything down, she orders a quick blood test to test your levels. Leaving to retrieve her equipment you lied down as she instructed.

Turning your head you refused to see what was happening as she tied the tourniquet around your upper arm, the strong sting of the alcohol wipe wafting through your nose. Wincing at the poke of the needle entering your vein, you exhale deeply. The nurse patches you up, gathering the vials. You thank the nurse after she lets you know the doctor will be in soon, leaving the room.

Anxiety rises up again as you await the results, trying your best to keep your breathing steady. Running your eyes over the walls, you read the various degrees and accolades framed. It blew your mind that this woman has fifteen years of school under her belt, being a doctor is definitely not for the faint of heart. A sudden rapping on the door brings you out of your thoughts.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Harkness.” She steps into the room, casting a soft, comforting smile. Her wavy, brunette hair tied in a bun, some loose stands falling over her white coat. Closing the door, she sat on her chair.

“Well, your blood pressure was a little lower than it should be. Lab results showed that you have a decreased amount of red blood cells causing Anemia. Now, if it’s a sudden loss of blood somewhere or an underlying illness, we don’t know yet. It honestly astounds me how those other doctors failed to see this for so long.”

“From time to time I’ll wake up with a sore neck or wrist. And my problems will arise after that.” You added. She looks at you intently, cerulean eyes full of concern. Turning to her computer she started typing everything you had said into her system.

“Mhm and when was the last time you woke up like that?” She questioned.

“A few days ago.”

“And you said you noticed all this happening after you gave blood at a blood drive a few months ago.” She asked.

“Yes,” you confirmed. Finally, some form of an answer and one step closer to a treatment plan. It all hit you at once, there was no way to stop the floodgates.

She turned away from her computer, closing your chart, “I’d like to keep you overnight to observe your condition.”

Her face turned in worry and the sight of your tears, “Oh dear, I understand it’s scary.” She grabbed some tissues off the counter offering them to you.

Taking them you shook your head, drying your eyes, “I’m more relieved to have more or less an answer.”

She pulls some documents from the drawer, explaining that’s it’s a consent to overnight admittance form, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a note for work if you need one, but it is imperative we get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.”

You nod, signing the paperwork before she put a patient wristband on you. Directing you to follow her she leads you deeper into the building, the atmosphere becoming more homey and welcoming, “This is where I keep my overnight patients, it’s more relaxed and calming than a hospital.”

Opening a wooden door there was a single bed with a television mounted on the wall. A small restroom in the corner and a medical cabinet next to the hallway door. She pulled a medical gown from the cabinet, instructing you to change, then lie down on the bed before exiting to give you privacy.

Re-entering the room she placed an IV bag on the counter moving towards the bed, “I’ll just hook you up to the monitor. I’ll also put you on an IV drip for the night as well, so you can get the vitamins you’ve been missing.” She clips the pulse oximeter to your finger, walking over to the cabinet against the wall grabbing everything she needs.

Once Agatha turned around with the needle in her hand, you turned your head away holding out your arm. Prepping and cleaning the crook of your arm, she warns you, “Small pinch.”

“Good girl.” Agatha praises slipping the cannula into your arm, securing it with tape connecting you to the cannula hanging the bag on the IV hook behind the bed, “here’s the remote for the television, press the call button if you need anything. I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Dr. Harkness checked on you multiple times throughout the afternoon, making sure you were comfortable and not in any pain. She took another blood sample telling you she just wanted to see if your red blood cell count has increased. You’re truly thankful for her thoroughness and thoughtfulness. The warmth of the evening sun seeping through the small window of your room was causing you to grow drowsy, despite your earnest to stay awake in case anything came up. Unable to keep your eyes open any longer you texted your family, updating them before dozing off.

A soft knock on the door pulls you back into consciousness. Turning on the lamp you called out allowing the person on the other side to come in. Dr. Harkness steps through the door apologizing for the intrusion so late. Her hair loose, coat gone; a different air around her.

“So, good news I know exactly what’s wrong with you.” Agatha starts explaining, striding to the end of the bed, hands in her pants pockets. You listen close to what she has to say.

“Bad news is I’m not exactly going to help you.” She states matter of factly. You blanched at her words, heartbeat quickening. Eyebrows pulled together as you sat up, pressing your back deeper into the pillows.

“I mean, of course, I want you to be as healthy as possible don’t get me wrong, but I found the perfect snack in you at that blood drive.” Fear gripping you as Agatha stepped closer to the bed, her sinister smile showing her fangs, “I settled for rationing twice a month on you, but now that you’re here, I’d be a fool to let you get away this time.”

The room was now energized with malevolence. This woman, monster, was the cause of your problems. Why you can’t get out and enjoy your life anymore because you’re so dizzy and tired to do anything. Balling your fist, fingernails digging into your palms; knuckles turning white, “And when the police come? People know I’m here, if I don’t come home they’ll-”

“Easy. You went out the back where no cameras are, it’s easier to get to the parking lot that way than circling the whole building again. What happened after that nobody would have a clue.” Agatha countered, her smile was sickening, your stomach flipping.

“Even if, small if by the way, you managed to escape and get help who would believe that the good Dr. Harkness, was a vampire.” She started laughing in disbelief.

You eyes shifted between her and the door. Throwing the blanket off you you attempt to jump out of the bed, but Agatha was on you in a second wrestling you back down to the bed. Managing to get an arm free you landed a solid punch to her jaw, the pulse oximeter flying off your finger. Paralyzed with terror when her smile grew, completely unfazed by your punch, her eyes maniacal., “It’s just us here, feel free to scream all you want.”

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Not a sound would come out. Pinning both your wrists in one hand, her other hand sliding off her slacks.

“I believe I got your neck last time,” her knees pushing up your gown as she shuffled up your body. Letting out a pleased sigh Agatha settled herself on your thigh.

Bringing one wrist to her mouth she didn’t waste any time sinking her fangs into you. The sharp, piercing pain elicited a cry from you, tears falling down your face. Agatha’s cold hand held your wrist tightly as she sucked roughly, hips rocking frantically.

“Absolutely divine.” Agatha growled out her ruby eyes holding yours as blood ran down your arm and her chin. She licks the blood running down your arm, her thighs tightening around yours. Tossing her head back as she shudders on top of you moan loudly, “Always so delicious.”

Your breaths grow shallow, everything is cold as you stare at the gray ceiling. A small whine escapes you, vision blurring as you teeter on the brink of consciousness.

“That’s it. Rest easy now.” Agatha voice is fading, “you’re going to need it.”

#I lowkey want to make this a series #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #Agatha harkness x femal reader #agatha harkness x you #Agatha harkness x y/n #tw: medical equipment #tw: blood #tw: needles #tw: medical

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httpiastri · 11 months ago

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snowy mountains & hot baths – op81

you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.

genre: very short smut 😶

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!

author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors do not interact!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.

"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.

he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.

goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.

taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.

"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.

the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.

"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.

"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.

"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."

your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.

"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."

oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.

you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.

oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.

"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.

but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."

he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.

he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.

your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.

"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.

the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.

"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."

you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.

his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.

his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."

his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"

his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.

"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."

"oscar!"

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dirtysvthoughts · 11 months ago

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𝙗𝙖𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! [1𝗄 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇]

synopsis: you and your boyfriend have been working nonstop. performances on his end and endless meetings on yours. when you both finally get a break, he proposes you two get away for a few days. little do the both of you know that this “baecation” will provide physical, emotional, and sexual healing.

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, boyfriend! chan, non-idol! chan (professional dancer! chan), vacation/baecation getaway, lots of teasing, lots of dirty talk, lingerie on reader, hotel room sex, balcony sex, pool sex, basically chan and reader are just horny lovebirds

notes: WOW BESTIES 1 FREAKING THOUSAND OF YOU HERE AT DIRTYSVTHOUGHTS!! 🥹 never did i ever think this account would grow this much, but you all made it possible! thanks for reading, liking, reblogging, sending in asks, and everything in between! i hope you enjoy this *slight* self-indulgent work! oh to be fucked by boyfriend chan in a dimly-lit hotel room with rose petals..

———

this work will be released in three parts (w/ an epilogue) !

pt. 1 - the destination

pt. 2 - the arrival

pt. 3 - the heated night & the morning after

———

if you want to be added to this work’s taglist, please fill out this google form here!

———

teaser (547 words) - thank you to @wooahaeproductions for beta reading!:

you can’t help but stare in (happy) shock as your eyes take in the sight before you, after chan removes his hands from your eyes. there were rose petals scattered across the floor and your bed and champagne chilled in an ice bucket. the dim lights created a sexy ambiance with the last bits of sunlight dimming over the horizon - the large, wide glass windows casting the most beautiful view that you would never forget.

chan stands behind you, rubbing your hips as he hold you by your waist, his smile forming against the shell of your ear as he kisses it, and laughing as he gently sways you side to side. your body is engulfed in his, the warm, familiar sensation of his embrace pleasantly taking over your body.

“chan, what’s all this?” you asked amazed, especially at how much he put into this setup.

“this,” he whispers kissing your temple, “is for you. you’ve been working so hard baby, and now it’s time for you to be rewarded.” you look into his eyes as he holds your jaw, fingers delicately adorning your face. there was something in the air uniting your both - was it love? sincerity? adoration? whatever it was, nothing else mattered in the world right now except you two.

“i love you so much, baby,” he kisses your nose softly. “i know this isn’t a lot, but-”

you silence him with a deep kiss and you turn your body forward so your hands could hold the nape of his neck. your tongues dance together in passion as chan pulls you even closer, bodies and the room temperature heating up with your intensity.

you pause and separate momentarily, ragged breaths filling the space. “chan.. this is more than enough,” you sigh lovingly. “we could’ve stayed at home and i would’ve been more than happy - just being with you is all i need.” you can feel your eyes starting well with tears but you try your best to hold them back.

“i love you so much, chan.”

this time, he starts another passionate kiss. he reaffirms his hands on your waist as he places open mouth kisses on your lips. he walks both you towards the bed and unties the robe you had on, revealing the sheer black rose-decorated lingerie set and garter on your body.

chan whistles as he takes in the sight of you, stunning as ever. “shit,” he whispers, “all dressed up for me like the pretty girl you are..”

you smile as you bring his hand for your waist to your chest, letting chan feel you up as your bite your lip and whimper, his soft hands causing your nipples to perk up. you’re close enough now that the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed. he gently lays you down and climbs on top of you as he kisses your neck. his long fingers toy with your panty line, the motions sending shivers down your spine.

“mmmm, my channie,” you moan out blissfully as his fingers begin to enter your dripping core. “more, please give me more,” you whine out as he continues to press his lips against your body, wetness continuing to gush from inside you as his lips move down your body.

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Note

Hi I’m new to this so I’ve no clue if this is how you request, but I was thinking Spencer fluff, in earlier seasons where he’s a little bit more awkward but has a little bit of confidence, based on that one episode where hotch says Reid was propositioned by all the prostitutes & you’re dating him but you’re not the jealous type, they know what they have with Spencer is good and knows he worships the ground they walk on, so isn’t worried or threatened by anyone so while he’s getting hit on being a blabbering mess they just giggle to themselves making little suggestive comments. Hope this makes sense🥰

A/N: That's one of my favourite scenes because it's so hilarious to see Hotch cracking jokes for some reason. That and "did you join a boy band?" Iconic, truly. ❤️ Thank you for requesting, I'll shut up now.

Warnings: none

You were aware that Spencer Reid was a catch. Perfectly aware. More than aware. Desperately aware.

He was, quite possibly, the most attractive bean pole of a man that had ever walked the earth. He was beautiful and he was loving and his smile lit up the room and you were quite honoured to be able to call him your boyfriend.

It was not lost on you that many other people - not just women - also desired him. Which led to some downright hilarious instances.

“It's not funny, Y/N.” He pouted, that adorable furrow in his brow coming back and finding it's perfect place on his face as you stared up at him. You knew the expression you were showing him was a little bit dreamy, head in both hands as you gazed admiringly up at him, but you simply didn't care what kind of company you were in.

“Spencer, you were propositioned by 11 prostitutes.”

“I'm sure they were just teasing, Y/N. I'm awkward, I stand out like a sore thumb, I'm not buff or hot, I'm-”

“A complete and total liar!” You stood, gasping and grasping non existent pearls, playing up your disbelief. He cracked a smile and you paused briefly to send up a prayer to God, thanking them for putting a real angel on Earth.

“Spencer, you may be a little bit nerdy, and you absolutely do not know when to shut up. Your hair may always looks like your mom did it for school picture day, and your fashion sense is questionable to out it kindly-”

“Is there a but? I need there to be a but or I'll cry myself to sleep.”

“But those things are incredibly endearing. And did I mention you're really hot? It's like you're all members of the Scooby Doo cast rolled into one body and somehow that really works for me.” To punctuate your words, you took a step closer, letting your hand play with his tie as you slowly encouraged him to take a small step towards you as well, until you weren't sure where the heat that warmed you was coming from.

It could've been rolling off of him, or you, or it could've been a fire burning between you, as you fixed his tie and ran a hand through his hair.

“I'm not joking with you, Spencer. I love watching everyone appreciate your beauty and your intellect. Frankly, it turns me on.”

“Okay. I'll remember that, thank you.”

“Turns on the prostitutes, too.”

“Y/N! They're just trying to make a living, if you'd have been out there canvassing they'd have tried it with you too.” You had to giggle a bit at his loom of exasperation, flas to see that it was tainted with an uncontrollable smile, a small lifting at the corners of his mouth that he couldn't combat.

“Spencer Reid, Hotch told me that one of the girls offered you $100 for a ride.”

“That's not exactly cheap or a discount, Y/N, the going rate for a working girl in the area is-”

“Spencer. She was offering you money.” His brows knitted again and then his eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh. Oh, she did look very disappointed now that I think about it.” You pressed your hand to your mouth to suppress the small pleasurable giggles from slipping out and composed yourself, before slipping your arms around his waist.

“So, Spence. How is it that you know the going rate of a working girl?” You lifted your eyebrow and watched him panic, ready to memorise every expression that ever passed across his angelic features.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #reiderslibrary #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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adifferentsortofstrength · 21 days ago

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The Chase

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Someone made a post a few days ago musing about Elain and Azriel being into primal play. I’ve had very little exposure to this particular kink, but the stuff I have seen was… enlightening. It just seemed like something Elriel would absolutely be in to, so I ran with it.

And now here we are.

Fair warning, I haven’t written much smut since my peak Wattpad days in high school, so I’m a little rusty. But I had tons of fun with this piece, and I hope you do too.

Pertinent tags below. ♡

∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴

Come, find me.

Those had been Elain’s parting words that night, whispered into his ear as she left their family in the manor sitting room. They had been sneaking around for months now, and as far as Azriel knew, no one was even suspicious. Being discreet was his specialty, and it turned out Elain was a quick study.

Half an hour after she departed, he excused himself, claiming he had paperwork to attend to. Instead of heading for his room, however, he bid his shadows to deposit him in Elain’s chambers, just one floor up.

But her room was empty.

A breeze caused the curtains to billow around the window, and Azriel strode over to peer out. He cast his gaze over the expansive garden, finding no sign of her. A quick sweep through the rest of the house yielded the same result.

Come, find me.

Azriel mulled over her words, as he stood now at the edge of the garden. He had checked it again, just to be sure he hadn’t missed her, and found only her robe draped across the back wall. It was still warm to the touch, leading him to believe she had recently left it there, but he couldn’t begin to understand why.

The sound of a branch snapping drew him from his reverie, and he whipped around to face the darkness of the forest that lay beyond the garden. Azriel’s head tilted to the side, assessing the inky blackness for any sign of movement. Right as he was about to turn back, something white and smooth flashed in a pool of moonlight, just past the tree line.

He leveraged himself over the low wall, and stalked forwards, one hand resting against Truth Teller, the blade sheathed at his waist. In a sudden flurry, something took off running, deeper into the woods. At first, he thought he had startled a deer; sending her sprinting towards the unknown dangers of the forest, away from the immediate threat of the predator approaching. That was, until he heard… laughter.

Elain’s lilting voice drifted out of the trees, “Come, find me!”

Closing in on the spot where she had been, the heady scent of her arousal hit him. When he found her nightdress discarded in the tall grass, something feral within him roused. Azriel inhaled deeply, dizzy with how quickly need had coiled at his core. He imagined her out there, running through the forest of the human lands, in nothing but her lacy little underthings.

He could almost see the moonlight illuminating her creamy skin, her unbound hair as wild as her eyes, feet bare as she fled between pines and oaks. Elain wanted him to chase her, to hunt her through the dark, and he was powerless to resist.

Azriel felt rational thought leave him then, replaced by the carnal beast that lurked under his skin. His senses honed in on everything that was Elain. The jasmine and honey scent that haunted him each day, it was like a beacon in the night. He took off after his prey, a lone wolf hunting in the woods.

⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰

Elain was consumed by her desire for Azriel. They had been at the manor, with the Band of Exiles, for far too long. She had borrowed some of Nesta’s books to take the edge off, but something she read in the most recent novel had stuck in her mind.

She had never attempted anything like this before. The urge to try had been stoking a deep, feral heat within her for days. To fantasize about being hunted was one thing, but to initiate this roleplay felt like a line she could never step back from. Elain was all too familiar with actually being prey, having needed to be rescued far too many times for her ego to withstand. Taking control of it like this, choosing to be hunted down, felt like a necessary part of healing from all that she had experienced.

Though she had considered discussing it with him first, it wasn’t the easiest thing to put into words and actually speak out loud. Her cheeks had burned every time she even thought about bringing it up with him, in the few moments they had been left alone here. Azriel knew her better than anyone, and she knew him too. Knew that he wouldn’t balk at the prospect of chasing her through the woods.

All she had to do was get him there.

Standing at the edge of the forest, waiting for Azriel to track her down, she had almost called it off and snuck back into her room. She was nervous that he wouldn’t figure it out, that she would be left out there, in the dark, and have to admit defeat. But she should have known better than to doubt his ability to find her.

When he lingered at the garden wall, where she had draped her robe, Elain dropped her nightgown around her ankles. Her skin was bare except for the white, lacy scraps of fabric that stretched across her breasts and between her thighs. As she stepped clear of her clothes, a dry branch snapped under her foot.

Elain held her breath as she watched Azriel’s head tilt to the side, as if searching the darkness for her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to see her in the shadows, she slipped quietly through a beam of moonlight that broke through the canopy. Her heartbeat accelerated as he lifted himself gracefully over the wall, and she felt her arousal dampen her thighs as he palmed Truth Teller, moving slowly in her direction.

An instinctive need to flee overwhelmed her, and she submitted to it, turning to sprint into the unknown depths of the forest. In one last lucid moment, she called out over her shoulder, “Come, find me!”

Elain wove through the trees, her feet nearly silent beneath her. Her breath came in pants, and her legs burned from the effort it took to maintain her speed, but knowing who hunted her gave her the strength to keep running. Azriel was an elite warrior, the Spymaster of the Night Court, and a powerful Shadowsinger. He would have little trouble chasing her down. It was only a matter of time before she would be caught, but she threw herself fully into the hunt, giving herself over to the role of prey that she had assumed.

A carnal fear took over, driving her deeper and deeper into the woods. She could hear him faintly, some distance behind her. He had no need for stealth, and his boots crashed through the overgrown vegetation, the sound slowly growing as he gained ground.

Hoping to throw him off her trail, Elain veered off to the left, into a dense thicket of willow branches. Leaves tore from the tree, snagging in her hair as she ran through it. Azriel growled from the other side, the noise startling a cry from her lips. Fearing the sound would draw him straight towards her, she pushed herself to move faster, gasping for air as she exerted herself.

The mounting anticipation sent a renewed flood of need through her, the lace covering her sex completely saturated, her thighs slick. Each stride created a delicious friction there and Elain could hardly contain a desperate moan that gathered in her chest. She chanced a look back, and that moan turned into a sharp yelp as she realized that Azriel had been silently keeping pace with her.

A wicked snarl tore from his throat in response, a wolfish grin spreading over his face. She cried out again, nearly losing her footing, and in a final effort to escape, lunged for an opening in the trees. She found herself running through a large meadow, tall grasses and wildflowers whipping past her legs, nettles stinging her bare skin. Elain nearly sobbed as she felt him closing in, her legs trembling with the effort it took to keep moving.

With a guttural growl, Azriel had lunged for her, catching her around the waist. Unable to contain the visceral sound that ripped from her lungs, she screamed as they tumbled across the clearing. He had absorbed the impact as they landed, and for a moment she had a fleeting hope of breaking free. She kicked and tried to wrench her arms from his grasp, but in one smooth movement she was pinned.

Elain writhed beneath him, her arms restrained in one of his large hands, stretched above her head. She cried out as his other hand gripped her face and turned her head to the side, cheek pressed into the grass, her neck bared. Azriel lowered his mouth to her, his hot breath ghosting over her skin, the only warning she had before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her shoulder.

The sharp pain sent her hurtling towards the precipice of her pleasure, her core tightening in response. A purely feral sound came from her chest, somewhere between a moan and a sob. She bucked her hips below him, his legs on either side of her, still holding her in place. Azriel replaced his teeth with his tongue, soothing over the hurt.

He shifted his weight, using one knee to press hers apart, and settled into the space between. The combined scents of their arousals filled the air around them, driving Elain to the edge of sanity as she continued to struggle against his grasp. Every other breath came out as a keening cry, tears slipping from her eyes as her need for him became overwhelming.

Elain watched, eyes wild, as he took the hand that had held her face and unsheathed his dagger. Azriel drug the flat of the blade up the soft inner skin of her thigh, the cold metal feeling so at odds with the heat radiating from her core. His eyes locked with hers, waiting for any sign of refusal, and finding none. He drug his gaze down her body, taking in the white lace and bare skin.

He growled low, a sound of approval, as he beheld the shining wetness between her legs. The tip of Truth Teller now slipped beneath the fabric that encircled her hip. Drawing it up, ever so slowly, the fine woven material giving way easily to the edge of the blade. She watched as her chest began to heave, each breath more ragged than the last.

One side of her bottoms fell away, and he repeated this move on the other side until he could tear them off completely, tucking them into a pocket in his leathers. She thought he would use the same method to remove the lace that covered her breasts, but he only replaced the dagger in its sheath.

Suddenly, he released the hold he had on her wrists, but she still found herself unable to move. Elain tilted her head back, only to find dark shadows twined around them now. She tore her eyes back to the male above her, a wicked grin spreading across his mouth. Azriel began to slowly undress himself, removing his jacket and shirt first. The sight of his bare chest drew a pathetic mewling sound from her, her arms once again struggling against the bonds, desperate to touch his skin.

He then worked on undoing the laces at the front of his leathers, drawing each one fully out before moving on to the next. She had never known true torture before, but in this moment felt as though she would give him anything he asked for, if only to relieve the immense pressure building up inside her. Elain was not one to resort to begging often, but she was not above it at this moment.

Drowning in desire, desperate for any contact to bring her to release, she tried to move her hips up, a feeble attempt to grind herself against his thigh, his hand, anything would be better than the painful emptiness that clawed within her. With no more than a glance down, Azriel sent shadows to restrain her hips, adding to the mounting frustration.

He stood then, finally, finally removing his leathers, now fully naked before her. Elain tried to choke out a plea, but words did not come to her. He kneeled again, lowering himself over her, his hard length coming to rest against her. She rocked up into him, as far as the restraints would allow, gasping at the friction as his cock dragged across her clit.

In one swift motion, he had aligned himself at her entrance and began to push into her. Her slick arousal coated him, the stretch bringing her back to the edge. Azriel released his shadows, her hands and hips now free to move, as he bottomed out within her.

Elain’s hands flew to his shoulders, digging her nails in, urging him on. Understanding her need, he set a punishing pace, driving her into the ground as he fucked her. She lost all awareness of anything but the pleasure coiling at her core. He wrapped one arm under her hips, tilting her up to give himself better access, hitting that sweet spot deep within her.

The world went black as she came, her head thrown back, the sounds leaving her mouth unintelligible and raw. As the first wave crested, another swept in, leaving her trembling and limp. Azriel was unrelenting, his hands now finding purchase in the soft flesh of her hips. She was completely at his mercy.

Without warning, he lifted her, sitting back on his heels and seating her in his lap. Elain managed to wrap her arms around his neck as he continued to thrust up into her. Needing to please him too, she let her fingers trace over his wings, down the ridged flesh, to the joint where they connected to his back. He snarled against her neck and bit down on her shoulder once more, layering the marks left there by his teeth before.

Azriel’s movements became jagged as she grazed her knuckles down the membrane, her pleasure building again as the sharp pain of his teeth mingled with the ecstasy of his cock filling her. She purred in his ear before her tongue flicked over the pulse point in his neck. Elain kissed the line of his throat, sucking and licking her way to the soft skin just below his jaw. Her hands were both at work, gently stroking up and down the crest of his wings.

Growling against her neck, he came, his hips surging up, release spilling inside of her. The feeling of it was enough to send her toppling over the edge one more time. Azriel wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest. They sat there, catching their breath, each trailing their fingers in soothing circles on the other's skin.

Elain couldn’t remember a time she felt happier, more sated, more at peace. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing to remain in this moment forever. He gently shifted them, laying on his back, his wings spread out beneath them, as she curled against his chest. His hands ran up and down her arms, her back, her legs and Azriel kissed the top of her head.

Language slowly returning to her, Elain tipped her head up and mumbled, “I knew you’d find me.”

Azriel shifted to look at her, amusement and affection shining in his eyes, “What the fuck was that, Elain?”

She smiled up at him, “That was fun.”

He just shook his head and relaxed back, seemingly content to lay there with her beneath the stars, where only the Mother might witness them.

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phan3145 · 4 months ago

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Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Implications, Possessive and aggressive behavior ) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: I will be going on a HIATUS for a few weeks. Work is switching over tech this week to new software I need to learn, and then next week is my one year anniversary with my husband. We are going to swim with dolphins at Discovery Cove in Florida! I’m excited, but I’ll be writing in my free time and banking chapters so everyone will have more regular Wednesday updates when I return. Until then, thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting up to this point. You all mean the world to me ❤️

Chapter 10: Bad Words, Bad Feelings

Noa

When she turned, the look in her eyes had him wanting to kneel on all fours in submission. Ridiculous. He was Master of Birds, he submitted to no one. Anaya did not have the same title as him, actively looking down and shuffling back a step. He would have teased him for it, for his submission to an Echo, if the next step she took did not have him questioning his own assurance. He fought his spine’s urge to bend, remaining upright by sheer will.

Her anger was somewhat confusing, but it became clearer as she demanded, “Is that what I am to you? A pest?”

Ah. That seemed to be the cause of her mood shift. He tried to explain the situation, hoping to calm her, “Humans are…considered pests…to my clan…they have never met…a good Echo…that could speak.”

Unfortunately, this did the opposite of what he had intended. She took another step towards him, hands balled into fists at her sides. He knew she was not foolish enough to try to fight him, let alone hit him, but the idea itself was amusing to think about. He recalled her nails digging into his shoulders a few days ago, that was probably the most pain she could inflict on him if she tried. Still, he had seen that look in her eyes once before. Only once, during a time in his life that seemed so long ago now. It was when Mae had killed Lightening, using her human weapon to save Soona. It was angry, it was resolute, and there was a trace of fear behind it all.

“If we’re such pests, and you had to convince your elders, then why even bring me?” She asked, shuffling in place as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted to take another step forward or go back.

“I had…no choice,” he admitted. “You…saved my life…you..spend time with…Master of Birds…but do not…show yourself…makes apes…uneasy.”

“No choice…” she muttered, looking away from him and back towards the village.

He could see many expressions dance across her face, her eyes distant as she seemed to be thinking on his words. Whether that was a good or bad thing, he could not say. He noticed the muscle along her jaw become more prominent, before her head snapped back to him like a cobra strike, eyes holding heat worse than fire. This time, he did flinch back. It was scary, how Echos could be calm and docile, then turn like a wild animal ready to defend its existence. He did not understand it.

Her voice raised, louder than he had heard it before, “No choice? There’s always a choice! There should always be a choice. What frustrates me the most about this, is you say you didn’t have one, but I know that’s not true! You’re the Master of Birds, no one…higher than me, remember? You expect me to believe you didn’t have a choice?”

He could not meet her eye, casting his gaze downwards. He had a choice. Of course he did…though it really did not feel like one. He had responsibilities now, he was no longer a youngling. He could not keep running off with his Sunset Brother and Sister to visit a strange Echo as if his life had no purpose. The clan demanded more of him, they needed a leader who was present. Anaya and Soona deserved better from their leader too, having to assist him on days they did not see you to make up for the days they did. They each would hunt and gather food equal to three apes, while he tended to eagles and prepared for Big Climbs of this season’s apes.

Though she also assisted with gathering, there was only so much an Echo and three horses could carry. It would be better if he could bring a larger party, but that meant not seeing his Echo, or worse, scaring her. That is what it came down to. He was choosing her comfort- choosing her, over his clan. If she could just meet them, maybe even be accepted as part of his clan, then he would not have to choose. There would be no choice.

The elders of course, were the cause of this. They learned of his meetings with an Echo, smelling her on him when he returned from their visit to the library. They ‘advised’ him to either chase her away, to avoid further distraction, or present her to them so that they may learn her scent and know her. She was not a threat of course, so that should be no problem. The real problem was, if her first exposure to apes of the clan after everything she had been through was the elders, then she would never come back. The elders were…elders. They would not treat her with the respect she deserved immediately, if at all. They still did not care for Humans. Mae certainly had not helped his cause either. He thought his mother, the younglings, and a few apes only a season or two younger than him might be enough to sway her opinion in a positive favor towards his clan.

She scoffed, his continued silence stretching too long for her liking. “I knew it. And when we first met you accused me of being a liar.”

“I did not…lie.” He growled, gaze jumping back to hers. He made sure his canines were not bared, anger creeping up on him now as he confessed, “The other option…was not a choice…I had to…think of my clan.”

“Of course! Oh, and since we’re on the subject of choice,” she was quick to add. “Were you going to give me a choice? You didn’t think it might be important to tell me that you were blindly leading me to your village of apes?”

Shame burned the pit of his stomach, knowing he was untrue when it came to this. She was right, and oh, how he hated it. Still, he could only argue, “Thought…it would be better…if I did not…if you could…only meet apes.”

“I have met apes, Noa.” She hissed, teeth bared now as she paced towards him, stopping with only a few inches separating them.

Any other time, he would enjoy being this close, her scent becoming this familiar yet ever changing thing that he had memorized countless versions of. It brought comfort to him, certain scents of hers calling forth memories he had shared with her in private. He did not understand how or why her scent was not constant, but he decided he did not dislike it. At present, her being this close, hissing and baring her teeth? Her scent was an unwelcome distraction, forcing him to fight the natural instinct to bare his own canines and force her to yield to him. He did not like this feeling of having to defend himself from her. It was not natural, as an ape or as her companion.

“You know I’ve met apes before. You also know what they took from me, and what that has done to me.” She continued, voice lowering. It was softer in volume, but harder in tone, like it was coming from the back of her throat. It sounded hurt. “You know this, because I told you. I told you because I trusted you. I have never trusted an ape like I trusted you. That’s because you were never like them, Noa. Never. Not once.”

He felt his own rising anger cool and mellow, hearing her praise him even while hurt by his actions. She wasn’t done though, “Today was different…you were different. Instead of setting yourself apart like you always do, instead of being the Noa I’ve come to know…you took the choice away from me. You decided for me because you believed that you knew better. This is why I live alone, no one gets to make decisions for me. Especially not an ape.”

“Trying to fix…” He began, but she cut him off.

“You don’t get to argue this!” She said, raising a finger to point at him, “Just because I trusted you, doesn’t mean you suddenly get to make decisions for me. You’re trying to fix something that’s not broken! The way I react, the way I am, it’s what keeps me alive! But why am I surprised? This is the way apes are. With enough power and time, you and your clan will become just like them.”

The words stung, and he gritted his teeth, lips pulled down as far as he could over them, “Not..true.”

“No?” She questioned, “How are you any different? You and your clan already see humans as pests, something lesser than you, to be chased away. Do you think that’s any different from how they saw me?”

A part of him recoiled on the inside, remembering similar words he had spoken to Raka regarding Echos. He did not know then, but he knew now, and that is not how he saw her. “You are not lesser…but you are…alone…you do not have to be…apes in clan would…welcome you.”

“You think so?” She challenged.

“Know…they would.” He replied, “Anaya…and Soona did.”

Her eyes cut then to Anaya, who was swaying on his feet, arms tucked into his chest, taking in everything happening around him. He looked as if he wanted to leave, but also would not tear himself away from their Echo while she was upset. He had become strangely loyal to her…though maybe he was not the only one. Her gaze returned to him, something underlying in her tone as she argued, “Not every ape is like Anaya and Soona.”

“Come and…see for yourself.” He tried, grasping for her. His palm connected with hers, and he had just started to curl his fingers around her wrist, when she swiftly ripped her hand away. She avoided his touch, a first for them, and took several steps back, completely out of his reach. He saw her overlap both arms across her chest, hiding her hands away from him within the crook of her elbows.

It was another sting, but he refused to chase after her. “You said…did not give you…a choice…I chose…because I know…you would have…chosen to run…like you always do.”

Her eyes went almost comically wide before narrowing, “Excuse me?”

“You are…afraid.” He continued, thinking he could potentially goad her into following him. “Ridiculous…dumb…Eagle Clan…would not harm you…yet Echo is…scared…so scared…always scared…of apes…jumbled.”

With every word her breathing increased, hands clenching and jaw tightening. Anaya, seeing the same thing he did, grunted, “Noa…stop.”

He raised his arms, keeping them wide as he challenged, “Prove…wrong.”

She stood there, unblinking as she stared him down. He thought she would march back up the hill, so strong willed and stubborn when she wanted to be. A few more silent moments passed before she finally decided to respond. He could not have predicted the next words out of her mouth.

“No.” She said, no anger or malice in her tone. It was flat, emotionless. That scared him.

His arms bent, lowering slowly as he parroted, confused, “No?”

Her steps were strong, purposeful, her shoulders back and head raised as she devoured the distance she had placed between them. Though her movements were not threatening by any means, he tried to keep some space between them, feeling his breath become heavy in his chest when a tree suddenly met his back. There was something about her now, this new stance, that made his own mind jumbled. He forced himself to focus as she spoke, “No. I do not have to prove anything to you, I owe you absolutely nothing. Not my time, not my attention, not my life, and certainly not my trust.”

His brows furrowed, “You…would rather run away…than trust my clan…trust that I…would not let anything…happen to you?”

Her words were scathing as she answered. “Let me explain this to you in a way your chimp brain can understand. I want nothing to do with your clan…or you, Master of Birds.”

“Echo does not…mean that.” Anaya interjected, finally stepping forward and somewhat in between the two of them. “Echo is…upset…Noa is wrong.”

He huffed at that, “Echo thinks…but it is true…she will always…be afraid…if she runs now.”

She pivoted around Anaya as he attempted to edge her away from him. “What are you trying to accomplish here? Do you think I’ll meet your clan and just forget what happened to me? Or are you naïve enough to think your clan will suddenly accept an Echo pest because you told them to? I’m not an ape!”

“As good as,” he countered.

She scoffed, “Is that meant to be a compliment or an insult?”

“Only human…would think being called ape…is an insult.” He snorted, realizing how this was the first time in a very long while he referred to her as a human and not an Echo. When he had actually begun to separate the two terms, he was not sure. “Having the mark…will be enough…for most to…accept you.”

Her hand rose to her crown, eyes narrowing in what he believed was confusion, “The mark is enough? Why? Because there is no other ape who currently has it?”

He puffed out air from his cheeks and rolled his eyes at that, “Echo is naïve…there has never been…anything other than ape…to wear the mark.”

“So, what?” She shrugged, “I’m the first Echo, that doesn’t change anything.”

“Changes everything!” He snarled, the fact she didn’t understand the importance of her situation frustrated him. “You are not only first Echo…but first outsider to wear it…only meant for apes…of the Eagle Clan...symbol of belonging...stronger than…my word as leader…cannot be undone…once honor has been granted…that is why…I did not want to give it…in the first place.”

There was silence, her body almost going slack, allowing Anaya to push her back a few steps with ease. She looked surprised, as if a tree limb had smacked her during a climb, one she did not see. He had seen that look many times before. Even Anaya, noticing her expression, simply let his hands rest on her arm. She was far enough away now not to be considered a challenge, his mind reeling before quickly righting itself. He knew better, with humans, they were more of a challenge when they were silent than when they spoke. He waited for another turn, for her to lash out when the shock wore off.

“That’s why Soona and Anaya…” she trailed off. “Why give it to me then? You didn’t want to, and it’s not as if I was aware of what it meant.”

Still, she did not understand! She was important to Anaya and Soona, and whether he liked it or not, she was important to him. She was not an ape and she was not part of his clan, but with her defense of them from the boar, she had earned it. There were witnesses, and Soona had called upon him as a worthy leader to bestow it. He had been unsure when both Soona and Anaya pushed for the honor to be bestowed. It was not as simple as it being against The Law, that would have made his argument easy, it had never been done before! He believed it impossible.

To make it possible, he had practically re-written The Law for her. His first true act as leader; not to present a new birth to the clan, or celebrate a completed bonding of ape and eagle, but to bestow the mark of Eagle Protector on an Echo! The elders passed must have felt great shame- it was completely against ape tradition. He was more ashamed that he was not more true when the time came. He tried, but when Anaya had asked him to vocalize the reason for his refusal, he could not. He was too afraid that to say she was not ape, would hurt her. Ridiculous. She was not, she said it herself just now.

It was his own jumbled spirit that lead to his decision to honor her. He had been terrified for her safety when she had taken his horse and engaged in battle with the boar. He felt helpless, Anaya and Soona too far away to coordinate with, and no trees for him to use to assist her if she needed it. He owed her his life already, but more than that, there was a fire inside of him that screamed out that she was his to protect, and he was hers. It had been a dull sound in the back of his mind since they met, which became louder the more time he spent with her. It had reached deafening heights when he saw her body hit the ground and then go still, blocking out everything else around him as he ran to her.

He had been so angry, and so relieved to see that she was mostly fine. He was more impressed by her display of capability, that he knew that to not honor her would be wrong. It had soothed that fire inside him, to see her wearing his mark, but that same screaming terror returned when he could not wake her later that night. The only thing he had been able to think about while she slept was what would have happened if she had been alone in the same situation. She was so smart, protecting and providing for herself, which was appealing, very admirable in an Echo alone. It was not suitable. She needed someone to take care of her, to provide for her, at least in times when she was sick or injured. She was more than worthy of a capable mate to live out her days with. Someone should take care of her.

“Noa!” She snapped, pulling him from his thoughts. He was no closer to understanding the right thing to say as she looked at him. Her eyes were full of hurt and betrayal, her body looking as if it was on the verge of collapse. “Answer me. Tell me why!”

“Sh-Shelter is not…home.” He began, carefully. He did not want to be at odds with her, and he did not want to hurt her. He needed her to understand, to know that what he did, he did with good intentions. “Echo would be…difficult to accept…apes do not trust…Echo for…good reason…but if Echo arrived…wearing mark of Eagle clan…mark of honor…then you would be welcomed as any other…clan member would.”

Her eyes narrowed, “You gave me the mark so they would know I’m trustworthy, that I’m not dangerous?”

“You are…dangerous.” He amended, “Mark…shows that…but to wear it…also shows that… you would…one day welcome…a place not only…amongst the three of us…but amongst the clan…a bond…belonging…a home.”

“I would never join your clan,” she spat quickly. She found her strength again, his careful wording seeming to cause that other turn he had been concerned about. She swatted Anaya’s hand away as he attempted to pull her back once more. “Stop touching me Anaya! What do you think I’m going to do to Noa?”

“Sorry,” Anaya grunted. “Not afraid…of what…you will do.”

Her brow raised at that turning from Anaya to him, “Really? Does that mean I should be afraid of what you will do, Noa?”

“Petty human,” he muttered, his instincts flaring once more at her obvious aggression.

“What was that?” She mocked, “I couldn’t hear you over your own pride!”

He was done holding back, she certainly was not. What good had it done him anyway? The more he tried to reason with her, the more she gnashed her teeth. Might as well be the brutish ape she was accusing him of being. He raised himself to his full height, pushing back from the tree and bridging the small distance Anaya had managed to put between them, baring his canines as he roared, “You are ungrateful…selfish…only care for yourself!”

She pushed her shoulders back, stepping forward to be toe to toe with him, not afraid to look him directly in the eye as she screamed back, “Ungrateful? Selfish? Are you sure that’s not you? I don’t care? You forget, I taught you how to read!”

She had him there, but something was wrong with his mind. He could not concede, he needed to win now. “Better off…thanks to apes…would not leave…your hole in the ground…without us!”

“Better off? Better off! I was just fine before you came into my life!” Her eyes were red, but there were no tears, not yet, and he had to wonder if Echo’s cried when they were angry too. “Can you say the same?”

“Yes!” He answered, without really thinking about it. “If Echo was not here…would make life…much easier!”

“If Echo was not here, you would be dead!” Her voice cracked as she screamed that final word.

There was silence for a few racing heartbeats. She seemed to be panting, and it was echoing in the forest around them. No, that was his own breaths. He was panting just as hard as she was, anger physically rolling off of them both. She would not bend, and he would not bend. He felt the fingers of his left hand twitch, something in him whispering that he should make her bend. His canines were pushed further into his gums then, he ground them in harshly, attempting to force that thought from his mind.

What she said was true, and that brought him pleasure as much as it brought him frustration. Those two emotions were mingling his thoughts together, and her scent-…it was different today. Past the bitter and sour smell of her anger, there was something else. It was the same smell as before. The one that made him want to get closer to her, made him lose the ability to speak, but this time it was…more. It was something he wanted to investigate, to understand. Where was it coming from? How much closer would he need to be to find it? She was practically on top of him now, and still he felt too…

Too close. He was too close.

He was breaking an unspoken promise right now, and if she were not so angry she would know that too. Angry…she was too angry. He was too jumbled to think clearly, and her scent was too enticing. He needed to get her away somehow. He would not touch her, fearing that would only make things worse between them. He could only speak a half truth now, hoping to push her away using his words like he had before.

“No longer…in danger,” he huffed. “Do not…need Echo…to be here…anymore.”

“Fine!” She growled, turning abruptly away from him, “Then I won’t be here! You don’t need anything from me, and I don’t need anything from you!”

“Noa…Echo please…stop.” Anaya pleaded, following alongside her, “Both are…untrue…bad words…from bad feelings…friends do not…mean it.”

She stopped, turning abruptly to Anaya, eyes searching for something in his features. Her brows furrowed and her face crumpled, “I wish I could believe that.”

Anaya visibly shrunk, releasing sorrowful hoots, looking helplessly between their Echo and him. He snorted through his nose, unwilling to back down. She was wrong. He was wrong too, but he believed he had more than earned her trust. She obviously did not trust either of them as much as she said she did. If she did, she would have agreed to go to the village. She turned then, eyeing him up and down before raising a shaking hand to her head.

Shaking? When did that start?

She removed his gift, hair sticking up in places as she gently pulled it away. She stared at it, thumb grazing over the eagle mark. He saw the sadness reflected in her gaze, before she tossed it at his feet. It landed in front of him with a dull thud, mocking him as a dirt cloud swirled up around it. He felt the anger and desire to win melt away from him, eyes seeking hers out as his jaw went slack. Something in his chest physically hurt now, feeling as if he was back in that burning tower, plummeting to the ground and unable to do anything to stop it.

“Echo…?” Anaya questioned, hesitating as he watched her. She turned to his Sunset brother, mournful smile obvious as she reached for his neck and brought her head forward to meet his. He heard her whisper something to Anaya, but could not tell what it was. As she pulled away, Anaya’s hand hovered over her arm, but he chose at the last second not to touch her. Anaya turned to him then, begging, “Noa…fix…please.”

He reached down to pick up the crown, straightening up and locking gazes with her once more. She was watching him, her anger seeming to have completely vanished. With his own mysteriously missing, all that was left now was regret and shame. He did not know what to say, how to stop this, or how to fix it. She visibly swallowed, tears clear in her eyes, “I don’t need it. I don’t belong to…your clan.”

He could not argue with her. Her words were true, but there was a strange ache in his chest that told him those were not the words she wished to say. Instead, he nodded. He thought he heard a high pitched noise, like a whimper from her, but it was so faint it could have been his imagination. He opened his mouth, but found words had deserted him again. They had fled to her, as she hummed, “It was nice while it lasted…goodbye, Noa.”

The words caused him to feel cold, an awful realization dawning on him. Did she mean forever? She turned and began to walk away. Was she leaving for good? He had to know! He called after her, first using the term Echo, but when she did not react, he called her name. Still, she did not stop.

He called her name again, “Stop…come back!”

He took several large steps to try to bridge the space between them, when she suddenly became a blur of movement. She had crouched to the ground, straightening up and spinning around at the same time, before he felt an intense pain in his jaw. His left hand came up to clutch his muzzle, hearing Anaya gasp and screech, jumping back a few paces.

He looked down, finding a stone at his feet. His movements were sluggish now, head turning up to see her arm raised, another matching stone resting in her palm. It was poised to be thrown. The surprise was so intense he could not find it within himself to react. She on the other hand, was still shaking, shifting from foot to foot, arm still raised. It shook too. Her breathing was shallow as she said, “I’m leaving. You can’t stop me, so don’t try to.”

He nodded again, huffing several times through his nose while backing away from her. Anaya shuffled over to stand next to him, looking just as shocked as he felt. Her shaking became less intense, but did not stop. She finally lowered her arm, eyes darting to the stone in her hand before shifting to the one on the ground. She looked distraught as she stared at it. Did she not know she had thrown it at him? Had she acted out of instinct?

One thing was for certain, she was leaving. She had dropped the rock in her hand and taken off in a full sprint before he could blink. She was soon out of their line of sight, and that seemed to finally shake Anaya out of his silence. He looked to Noa, confused and upset. He screeched, slamming his fists on the ground, before turning and racing back up the hill on all fours. He called out, much louder than he had heard him screech before, “Soona!…Soona!”

No matter how many seasons passed, he would be able to recognize that sound. By the way he was calling her name, by the tone of his voice, he knew that it would not lead to good things. He chased after Anaya, yelling, “Anaya…no…Anaya…stop!”

“Soona!” He screeched louder, creating even more distance between them as he ran. Anaya was still faster than him. He would never be able to catch him as he continued to call, “Soona…Soona…Echo gone!”

He was definitely in trouble.

…

Soona was screeching at him before he could even get a word in. Not for the first time, he cursed Anaya’s natural ability to run fast and speak faster when he wanted to.

“Why would you…say that…to her?” Soona asked, throwing an old piece of nesting at him.

He had brought them into the eagle tower, not wanting Anaya to panic half the village, or worse, alert the elders to her absence. Apes never needed privacy, but at the moment, he could not face any other after what he had done. He hung his head, whispering, “I do not…know…thought I could…convince her…she is usually…not like that.”

“Why was she?” Soona wondered, sitting down next to him, her own annoyance subdued. “I have…never seen her…angry…or upset.”

“Noa…knows.” Anaya accused, sitting away from him, crouched on the floor with his arms around his knees. The stance was a familiar one of mourning, and somehow this hit him harder than the Echo’s rock. Anaya refused to even look in his direction as he added, “Noa knows…about Echo…and apes…something not good.”

Soona turned her head, raising her brows, “Noa…?”

“Anaya…speaks true,” he said. Whether she returned or not, he decided that for the sake of understanding what went wrong, he would need to reveal her story. “We are not…the first apes…she has met.”

Soona was quiet next to him, but Anaya turned abruptly to face him. He still looked upset, but pushed himself to his feet, moving closer to Noa before asking, “Was…a pet?”

He was surprised by Anaya’s words, huffing, “How…do you know?”

“Guess,” Anaya said. “You are not…the only one…who speaks with her.”

He hesitated now, the statement catching him off guard. He knew that Anaya was close with her, but the moments he had shared with her, he wondered if she had shared similar moments with Anaya. When? When would they have had the opportunity? He recalled Anaya returning his arm band, not thinking anything of it when he mentioned finding their Echo by the water. He obviously did not know the whole story, but she must have trusted him with some of it, for Anaya to know the Echo’s meaning of that word.

Soona nudged him then, his original thoughts returning. “She told me…the night…after the boar attack…felt like a secret…so I did not speak of it after…she agreed that it was best…not to.”

“But you decided first,” Anaya grunted.

He felt his own brows furrow, “What…does that…matter?”

Anaya huffed, turning away, “Echo does not…like decisions being made…for her…yet you do…all the time.”

“I am…Master of Birds…need to decide things…sometimes.” He defended.

Soona shoved his shoulder, taking him off guard, “Still…dumb male…she is not…part of the clan…yet…you cannot…decide things for her…honor means…nothing.”

“Noa dumb,” Anaya agreed. “Echo…did not like…surprise…did not want to…be taken to village…Anaya said…so too.”

“I thought,” he defended. “If she did not…have time to…think about it…could see how…peaceful apes are…she would...be okay.”

“She met…apes before.” Soona asked, “That were not…peaceful…like…Proximus?”

He shuffled, arms folding around his own knees as he confessed, “I think…worse.”

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