#cries and sobs on the ground... i miss my wife tails. i miss her a lot. ill be back

[mysimsyuri]

i think nintendo should give me early access. because im so cool and awesome and gay

[hamsterboos]

Met Him Last Night

I literally speed wrote this in an hour so I'm sorry if this is a mess lmaooo but hopefully this will be continued, we'll see :D If anyone wants to be tagged in upcoming updates to this, please let me know! Just be warned, this first chapter does have (not very specific) details of a panic attack!

Title is from Demi Lovato's Met Him Last Night

Word Count: 2181 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 17 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Bodyguard AU

~~~~~

Aelin was just about ready to murder someone, and that someone would most definitely be her cousin.

“Aelin, I’m serious, you need protection.”

She growled as she slammed her palms down on the dining table, loudly, as she stood up. “And I’m serious when I say that I need sleep. This stupid bodyguard business can wait two days for me to hibernate.”

Aedion also stood up, mirroring her stance as he leaned in closer to her. “Your life is in literal danger, Aelin. I hope you understand what that means.”

“It was one instance!” she insisted, pushing herself away from the table and moving to the kitchen to put her empty dinner plate into the sink. She was so exhausted from all the travel she’d done in the last few days that all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep — dishes be damned.

“One instance of the guy mailing you pictures of you from the hotel and on the sidewalk,” he responded, moving beside her. He was following her on purpose to make sure she couldn’t escape him, and Aelin was pissed off that he knew her so well to do that. “He’s been sending you those weird as hell letters for years.”

“It’s not exactly a trade secret which hotels I stay in when I’m going on book tours, Aedion. You know that.”

“If you stopped posting Instagram pictures with the hotel in the background, then it would be more of a secret considering that you are a public figure now. Besides, it’s only going to get worse now that Crescent City season 1 press shoots start soon. Your face will be more famous than just in the book world, Aelin. People will see articles of the author behind the next biggest fantasy show on television. Things are already bad, and we shouldn’t let it get past that.”

“Okay, fine, but why can’t we talk about this later? My body clock thinks it’s the middle of the freaking night, and I haven’t slept in fifteen hours. Please get out of my face so I can sleep.”

“Aelin, if you don’t take this seriously, I’m going to do it for you.”

“Oh dear cousin, owner of a security company, please do. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with it, especially now that I’m going to be much busier.”

“You’re so annoying,” he grumbled as he stalked towards the door.

“Love you too!” she called after him, finally, finally, heading towards her bedroom. Fleetfoot trotted after her happily, and Aelin snorted as her dog’s wet snout kept bumping into her bare calves. The dog was way too excited to see her after two long months away from home with Aelin travelling all over the world for the release of her latest book. It wasn’t like she could deny the fact that she had missed her dear, sweet dog so much as well, so when Aelin flopped down onto her soft bed for the first time in months, she let Fleetfoot join her.

Fleetfoot circled the same spot three times before curling up against Aelin, her tail slowly thumping against the mattress as Aelin got comfortable as well. The feeling of warmth from her dog and the happiness from being in her own bed after so long had Aelin falling asleep faster than she normally did, and she was just about entirely asleep when she barely heard the click of her front door opening.

Figuring it was Aedion, she just tried to drown out the sound, not having the willpower nor the strength to move. He could let himself out after taking whatever he had probably forgotten at her place, and Aelin would be happily dozing for the next several hours.

Until a crash broke the haze Aelin was in, and her eyes shot open. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked at Fleetfoot who was staring at the closed door with alarm as well.

Aelin was confused. Aedion was careful to not drop ceramic or glass objects within the house, knowing how much her mother would always be on the two of them growing up to be careful with such things, and it didn’t help that she was still half asleep. Nothing made sense to her.

Slowly getting out of bed, she winced as she stood up entirely, her feet aching after days of standing in heels. Aelin walked over to the bedroom door and creaked it open, and she scanned the immediate vicinity for Aedion, trying to see if he was anywhere near the living room or corridor. When she didn’t see him, she creeped out of her room, trying to be quiet but the sluggishness had already taken over body as she stumbled into the wall a few times. Fleetfoot was at her tail, but Aelin forced her to stay before turning the corner into the living room. If there was glass on the ground, she didn’t want it getting in her dog’s paws.

Once Aelin turned the corner, she immediately stopped, finding the scene in front of her unwelcome and incredibly jarring.

There was a man standing in her room, one that didn’t have the same blond hair she did, and the broken object was a picture frame, the shards of glass littered about on the ground as he gripped a photo of her and Fleetfoot.

Aelin swallowed slowly, the saliva getting stuck in her throat as her mouth went dry, as she realized that a man had broken into her home.

As quietly as she could, she placed a hand over her mouth, trying not to breathe too loudly as she quickly made her way back into her bedroom, herding Fleetfoot with her, and she locked the door to the bedroom. Wildly glancing around, she took the chair from her vanity and jammed it under the door knob so the door wouldn’t open.

“What do I do,” she whispered, scared of her mind as she sat down on her bed. She was shaking, that much was sure as Fleetfoot tried to lick her hands and face in an attempt to calm her down. How was Aelin supposed to calm down when there was someone in her house?

Realizing that Aedion must’ve not gotten far, she lunged for her phone on the bed and dialed Aedion’s number.

“Weren’t you supposed to be asleep?” was his greeting, but all she could get out at first was a shuddering gasp.

“Aedion,” she whispered.

“Aelin? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice immediately alert.

“There’s someone in my apartment.”

“What?!”

“Hurry, please,” she cried, trying to muffle her voice to make it seem that she wasn’t at home. She didn’t know if the man had known that she was in the apartment, but she didn’t want him to find out.

“Aelin, listen to me, you’ll be fine. I’m almost there. Are you still in your room?”

“I, uh, I’m in my bedroom with Fleetfoot. I went out when there was a crash, and then ran back to my room,” she managed to get out. “I locked the door and jammed a chair underneath.”

“Go into the bathroom and lock that door too,” he urged, and she got up to move to the bathroom. “If he manages to get your room door unlocked, then at least you have some more time. I’m almost there, but you need to call 911, too.”

“Aedion, I can’t—” Aelin gasped out, leaning against the bathroom counter after locking the door behind her and her dog. Her breaths were coming in faster, and there wasn’t anything she could do to control the way her eyesight was beginning to blur. “I can’t let him know I’m in here.”

“He won’t find out,” he urged.

“But Aedion,” she cried, “the plates in the sink. He’ll see them, and he’ll know I was home. He’ll know I’m here.” The pounding in her chest had gotten louder than what Aedion was saying, and all she could do was sob into her hands. She wasn’t safe anymore outside, but now she wasn’t safe in her own room.

“Aelin! Aelin, it’s okay, I’m here.”

The next thing Aelin heard were shouts and yells before it got all quiet. She clambered up to her feet, throwing the door to the bathroom open before trying to get the chair back out, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck, and her limbs weren’t cooperating. There wasn’t anything she could do, and she tugged at the chair with a cry.

“Come on,” she cried, tugging at it more before it finally came free, clattering to the ground. Unlocking the door, she took a few unsteady steps before Aedion came into view, the man lying on the ground unconscious. Aelin lost all control of her body, and she fell into Aedion’s arm as he ran for her, and that was the last thing she saw before blackness encompassed her.

~~~

When Aelin awoke several hours later, it was to the commotion coming from downstairs. At first, she blinked a few times, trying to readjust to where she was because it wasn’t the drab hotel room view she’d gotten accustomed to, and once her brain was awake enough to process that she was in Aedion and Lysandra’s spare bedroom, she got out of bed and padded over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair. If she was going to show her face after a major panic attack that caused her to faint for a few minutes, she should at least look decent.

Fleetfoot was, thankfully, also with her in the room, and Aelin sat on the ground for a few minutes just to hug her dog before getting up and going to the living room.

As soon as she made her entrance, everyone went silent, the only sound was Fleetfoot’s paws as she went straight for Lysandra to nose at her for treats.

“Okay,” Aelin swallowed. “I get it. I need a bodyguard, but at least that guy was arrested,” she continued, hopefully. Aedion beckoned her to sit next to him, and it was then that she realized that besides her cousin and his wife, Elide was also there and a man that she’d never met before. He was striking, to say the least. Silver hair with a sharp jawline and beautifully green eyes. His short-sleeved shirt also showed off swirls of tattoo creeping up his bicep, and Aelin had to say that she was intrigued by who this man was.

“Look,” her cousin started, directing her attention back to him. His face showed concern, and she was suddenly worried that this entire ordeal might not be over. “That man wasn’t the same one who stalked you. He was just a burglar trying to score after noticing that no one had been going in or out of the apartment for a while. It just helped that the security guard downstairs is of no use, so he broke in.”

Aelin was having a hard time processing all this information being thrown at her. “So you’re telling me that it was just...unlucky?”

“I have been telling you to move,” he unhelpfully added, and she let him know exactly that.

“Anyway, we’ve come up with a solution,” Elide butt in. “Aelin, meet Rowan Whitethorn. He works in Aedion’s company. He was working for a different client for a few years, but they switched companies, so he’s now free to protect you.”

“Hey,” she greeted without any of her previous enthusiasm.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Galanthynius,” Rowan responded, and she noticed the slight accent to his words.

“Doranelle?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I will be protecting you from now on, uh, in a close manner.”

Aelin slightly jerked in her spot at his shy demeanor over his words, and the way he said it caught her attention.

“What do you mean?” No one answered her at first, peaking her anxiety again. “Aedion?” she asked, looking to him for an explanation.

“Since it’s also not safe for you to be at home alone, we’re going to have Rowan pretend to be your boyfriend.”

~~~

Aelin stepped out of the car, hand placed in Rowan’s as he led her into the paparazzi filled lot that led to the building where the final press shoots and poster shoots would be taking place for her show. It was still absolutely insane that someone she had written was actually going to be a TV show for the whole world to see, but another absolutely insane thing was the fact that she was pressed up against Rowan’s hard body, trying to pretend to be absolutely in love with him.

“Who is this man?” she heard one of the journalists ask, and she wanted to say that she didn’t exactly know either considering she had just met him last night, but this was the perfect opportunity for the world to know that she had a boyfriend.

Technically.

Smiling, she pulled Rowan to a stop as she turned to the vague direction from where she heard the voice. “This is my boyfriend.”

[alice-angel12x]

💔Naga!Bakugou x reader

"Y/n has committed a horrible crime. She was found guilty of eloping with a monster," our elder's voice boomed over the crowd.

Y/n was my best friend, and my long-time Crush. I stood in front of the crowd looking at the body that was y/n. When the village found out that she was in love with a Naga, they killed her and now they placed her body here and covered her body with a white cloth, for all too see.

I looked around the crowd to see so many familiar faces. Her parents, her mother was crying oceans. While her father had nothing but disgust in his eyes. Some of her friends we're discussing what they thought. Some believe that she was tricked or manipulated into loving this creature. While on the other side they thought she was nothing but a w****.

I knew none of those things were true. I would know, I'm the one who told the others about her little secret. And now that was my greatest regret.

It all started 5 years ago, when y/n and I we're taking traded Goods back to our village. We were playing on the bridge between the cliffs. It was as nice game of I Spy. I wish I was paying more attention that day, because one of the wooden planks snapped and she fell right through.

In normal situations, she would have fallen to her death. But she was saved by that creature, the Naga.

 He had spiky ash blond hair with red piercing eyes, and had a long red and orange tail like a snake. He jumped for her and saved her from falling to her death. As I got closer I could see it in her eyes. Not only was she thankful he saved her life, but that was when she fell in love with him. And something deep within me told me, this was not the first time the Naga met or saw y/n.

From that day on, she started spending more and more time in the forest than in the village. And she was an herbalist so most people overlooked it. But I knew where she was really going. I followed her one day into the forest, she did not pick plants and any herbs. She went to a cave, his cave.

 No matter how hard she tried to hide all those hickeys on her neck. I knew they were there, but luckily no one else did. As the days went on I could feel my jealousy grow deep within me. Some days I would be in the forest and I see them together. Eventually I learned his name was Bakugou. But I'd see them together,

y/n in Bakugou's embrace. Her lower half of her body wrapped in bakugou's coils. I'd see him kiss all over her neck. I wanted to be the one to give her those kisses.

I can't hold my jealousy and any longer on that day. The day when bakugou showed up one day, near the edge of the forest, and in his hands was a small Palm sized hunk of sapphire. And he proposed to y/n, and took her from me. That day I told the elders and The Village. They were so Furious that they ambushed her when she came back from the forest. She had the most beautiful flower crown I've ever seen on her head that day. That day I'll regret the most, seen the girl of my dreams being murdered by the very people she healed.

 " This wenches body will be burned at sunrise tomorrow, may she be forever damned in hell!" The elder spat.

 The crowd dismissed as they went back to their daily routine. I went to the shack where her body was being placed for now. But when I got there, I saw him, Bakugou.

  He was coming out of the shake with Y/n's body in his hands. He was trying to steal her from me again. Before I could even say anything or even scream, he slithered off into the forest with her. I grabbed my bow and arrow and I chased after him.

 I followed him into the forest, and led me to a cave. Sneaking inside I travel deeper into the cave toy saw a large opening, and there he was, bakugou. In his arms a beautifully dress y/n, still lifeless in his arms.

 "Y/n... Y/n wake up please," Bakugou begged as he brought her to a odd structure.

 Looking at it I was able to tell it was some sort of wedding setup. Bakugou was getting ready to marry y/n, but this all happened. As he continued talking I didn't know what to feel I felt sad and awful. Although on the other hand I felt nothing but anger and jealousy at his words.

 "Y/n please... I love you. I love you with all my heart," he sobbed as he tighed his hug on her.

His red and orange coils slowly tightening around her as well. Suddenly he started saying something , or humming in his native tounge.

As I listened I accidentally knocked something over alerting him. Bakugou quickly looked over in my direction. At first there was a look of shock and fear on his face, which quickly turns to anger, hatred and recognition.

"YOU!" He shouted at me.

"You're that bastard who couldn't keep his mouth shut! Why must you humans take everything from me! My family, my friends, my home, and know my wife," he said, seething in anger.

 " I'll kill you, I should have killed you a long time ago!" He shouted as he lunged at me with full force.

I quickly is my bow as a way to block him. He pushed against my bow pinning me against the wall. He opened his mouth wide, revealing his long serpent like fangs. As he tried to reach over and chomp down on my neck.

I quickly grabbed a sharp Rock and sliced his face just missing his eyes. He quickly released me while he was in pain. While he wS distracted I quickly grabbed y/n's body and ran out of the cave. As I ran to the forest with all my might I could hear him hissing, and him crying out.

"GIVE HER BACK!! SHE'S MINE!! COME BACK HERE YOU BASTARD!" Bakugou called out into the forest.

I quickly hide behind a nearby tree, with Y/n in my arms.  Once I caught my breath, I started to run. Only to trip on a root and drop y/n watching her tumble down the hill. I tried to get up, that's what I heard him behind me. Before I could do anything, bakugou's coils wrapped around my neck. He lift me off the ground Till we were eye to eye.

"If y/n hadn't stopped me, I would have killed you that day on the bridge," Bakugou hiss.

  I could feel his coil tighten around my neck. No matter how much I clawed at his serpent tail, it only tightened more. The edge of my vision started to darken, as my breath became more and more shallow.

 As I looked bakugou on the eyes, I could see that his eyes looked at something past me. I knew it was y/n, as he immediately dropped me and slithered his way over to her. Once I was able to gather my breath. I quickly grabbed an arrow and ready to my bow, as I ain't where his heart. I took one last deep breath and fired my Arrow.

 It's shot through the air pierced bakugou's heart. He cried out in pain as he tumbled down the rest of the Hill. He pulled himself over to y/n's lifeless corpse and pulled her into an embrace. His coils wrapping around y/n's lower half.

  When I finally got down there I could see a smile on bakugou's face, as he looked at y/n one last time, before his eyes closed forever.

What all was said and done, I found no joy in this. What's my jealousy cleared I couldn't see any monster. All I saw was another being who was alone and fell in love with someone. All I felt was sadness and guilt. As I stood there I heard something in the Wind.

   "Bakugou~," it was y/n's voice.

I looked around and saw something near the edge of the forest. It was a bright silhouette of y/n. But she was not alone, she was with three other nagas. Two of them looked like bakugou's parents, while the third was a naga with spiky red hair and a red tail to match.

 "Over here Bakugou," the red naga called out.

As I stared at them, Bakugou's silhouette rushed passed me and to

y/n. They happily embraced and y/n pulled Bakugou into a passonite kiss.

 "I thought I lost you forever," Bakugou said in a breathless voice.

 "You never lost me. Know we are all together," Y/n replied.

 Put a smile they all disappeared into the forest never to be seen again. I wish bakugou and y/n Eternal happiness.

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Want Us Part 3

Fandom: SVU / One Chicago

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing: Carisi x Reader

Warning/s: kidnapping, guns/shooting

Word Count: 2,602

Summary:  When a child abduction case crosses state lines in New York, Intelligence flies out to meet the Special Victims Unit and track down the missing boy. With the clock ticking, both units decide to mix up partners in order to combine their knowledge of the case with knowledge of New York City, pairing Intelligence’s newest member Y/N with Detective Carisi. After a successful stakeout the pair finds themselves on the tail of the suspect, determined to bring him to justice and bring the boy back home.

Tags: @the-baby-bookworm​ // @inlovewith3​ //

Action came sooner than you were expecting, both you and Carisi silently agreeing that the gun shots that sounded from inside the building constituted absolutely necessary as burst from the car, gun out your holster in seconds as you peered around the fence.

A man was running out of the building, Ronny you assumed by the child he was forcefully dragging along under his left arm. Even in the available light, it was clear both were unharmed, the metalic glint of an object in Ronny’s right hand causing you to make the fair assumption that he’d fired the shots you heard.

There was no way to sneak up on him, but soon you lost all need to as he paused by the car he’d arrived in, hesitating before frantically looking around and taking off down the road and into the night.

“We can’t lose him,” you said forcefully, both of you making your way quickly to the entrance of the bar just as another car rolled up. Halstead and Rollins jumping out.

“We’ve got Ronny and Logan, there are at least two men inside, potentially injured,” Carisi told the others, you and Halstead sharing a nod as you followed Carisi down the street, hearing the others disappear into the building followed shortly by a request for two ambulances to their location over the radio.

You followed just behind Carisi, hands gripping your gun as you made your way down the street, footsteps echoing in the silent night. Ronny had heard, glancing back at you before picking up his pace, but if your footsteps could be heard down the road, Logan’s cries and shouts were unmissable. He disappeared around a corner and you lowered your gun slightly in one hand, sprinting with Carisi, the sound of Logan’s despair all the motivation you needed to not slow down for a second.

Not only had this man abducted his own child, he’d just shot two men in front of him. You didn’t understand how anyone could do that, and you never wanted to.

As you reached the corner Carisi signaled for you to hold back, checking the coast was clear before you took off running again, Ronny still on the move. He was getting slower though, you realised, and you weren’t surprised given the uncooperative child under his arm.

He peeled off down and ally as you continued to give chase, seemingly trying to lose you both with his various twists and turns. It wouldn’t work though, you had him now and he wasn’t getting away.

Stopping again to check the coast it was your turn to peer around the edge of a wall, your head barely going an inch before you jumped back, brick breaking off where your head had just been.

“Dead end,” Carisi whispered to you, apparently knowing where you were. Ronny was trapped, which may have been worse you realised with a sinking feeling. He was already a desperate man, and desperate men often thought they had nothing left to lose.

“Ronny!” You called down the ally, your voice bouncing off the stones as Logan’s sobs quietened. “Ronny there’s nowhere else to go, just put the gun down and let us take you in, it’s over, no one else has to get hurt.” You tried to sound demanding but it came out as more of a plea.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said back, though it sounded like he was talking more to himself than you, “he’s my son, mine! He should be with me, it’s what I deserve-”

Your blood was boiling, knowing full well that all that man deserved was a jail cell. Still, you could tell he was unravelling, and that wasn’t good for anyone, least of all Logan. With a ‘trust me’ look to Carisi you holstered your gun, taking a breath as you stepped out into the opening of the ally, in full view of Ronny and his gun.

Carisi’s eyes went wide in protest and he reached out to pull you back but you shook your head at him. Looking down to Ronny and Logan, you were staring down the barrel of a gun, hands raised as Ronny stood frozen, not expecting you to be so stupid probably. You got that a lot.

“Hey Ronny, hey Logan, my name’s Y/N, I’m a detective with the Chicago police department,” you told them, keeping your hands where he could see them at all times. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Carisi with his finger on the trigger, ready to jump in if this got out of hand.

“Don’t come any closer!” Ronny waved the gun in his hand at you.

“I won’t,” you told him, “okay, I just want to talk okay? See if we can figure this out huh, so how about you tell me what happened?” Make him think you understand him, sympathise with him, make him think your on his side and let his guard down, de-escalate the situation.

“He’s my son, but she wouldn’t let me have him, wouldn’t even let me see him when I was inside, and when I got out... a restraining order?! What gave her the right? No... no no no, so I took him, I took what was mine and I came here, O’Connell promised- he promised!” Ronny ranted as you tried to keep your features neutral as images of the beat down he’d done to his ex wife flashed through your head.

“He lied to you, broke that promise,” you prodded, trying to sound indignant on his behalf so he’d open up more.

“Yes! Said there was too much publicity, he wouldn’t risk getting us out the country, I mean the selfishness- I did what I had to do,” He told you, gun lowering slightly as he poured out some of his frustration.

You inched yourself forward a step, then another, noticing Carisi practically stop breathing from where he stood, completely alert and ready to step in.

“And he shouldn’t have done that, okay, I get it, you’re the victim here alright, so why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about that huh,” you tried, “it’s clear you love your son okay? Look at him Ronny, look at how scared he is.”

Ronny glanced down at his boy as you took the chance to take another couple of small steps. He was shaking and pale, snot and tears covering his face as his bottom lip shook uncontrollably.

“No!” Ronny snapped, gun back up at you as Logan shrunk back in fear, “you’re scaring him, this is all you!”

You level your breathing and straightened up, “I’m not the one holding a gun Ronny,” you said with a scary calm, watching the realisation dawn on Ronny as he looked from the gun in hand, to his son, who was staring at the weapon with trepidation.

“I...” he floundered. Was he a monster? Yes, but every monster had a weakness.

“Give me the gun Ronny,” you told him as he glanced from it to you, not really registering how much closer to him you had been in the beginning.

“You’ll take me back to jail, I can’t go back to jail,” he muttered, but the gun looked suddenly very heavy in his outstretched hand as he weighed the decision in his mind.

You were very close to him now, so close that what happened next was too quick for Carisi to react to. Logan took that moment to bolt, his father’s grip on him slacking enough for him to break free as he ran past you to try and get away. You didn’t blame him for a second, if you were his age you would have done the same thing, you’d even been anticipating it.

So when Ronny’s focus snapped back, rage filling his eyes again as he now viewed you as someone else trying to keep him from his son, grip tightening back on his gun again with a new found purpose as he began to take aim, you were ready.

Carisi barely had time to step out from around the corner, gun raised but unable to take a clear shot as a small boy collided with him, hiding behind his legs as his father let out a cry of anger.

Ronny was fast, but you were faster, catching his wrist and twisting it around so you ended up behind him, his arm behind his back as you aimed a kick to the back of one of his knees, knocking him to the ground. Ronny tried to twist but you was it coming, shoving him forward so he lost balance and sprawled onto his front on the floor. You kicked the gun across the floor and out of his reach, planting your knee on his back as he struggled, grappling with his wrists as you cuffed him.

“Ronny Parker, you’re under arrest for kidnapping and attempted murder,” you told him, looking up and grinning at a relieved Carisi just as the glorious sound of sirens could be heard approaching from down the street.

Carisi put a comforting hand on Logan’s head as he continued to hug the man’s knees, shaking his head at your actions as you hauled the protesting Ronny to his feet.

Logan looked away as his father was brought past him, struggling to get away from you as you held him fast.

“That was... reckless,” Carisi commented, earning a smug wink from you as you passed Ronny off to a couple of uniforms that had arrived on the scene, the rest of Intelligence and SVU in tow.

“It’s her middle name,” you heard Antonio say, turning to see him approaching with Voight and Benson, who carefully coaxed Logan away from Carisi’s legs.

“Well Logan’s safe and Ronny’s going back to jail for a long time, good job guys,” Benson congratulated you both.

“Honestly Cap? All her,” Carisi told her, gesturing with his head in your direction as Antonio clapped you on the back. You put your hands in your pockets, accepting the praise as you tried to cover up the fact that your hands were shaking.

“Good job detective, you ever consider a change of scenery you let me know,” Benson told you.

“You trying to poach my detectives?” Voight asked and Benson chuckled, saying something to a uniform before Logan was escorted back to a vehicle. He seemed a little reluctant, but at the mention of his mom he couldn’t have moved quicker if he’d tried.

You smiled as you watched Logan wander off, back to his family and his home. You wanted to go with him, but you knew you’d have a lot of paperwork to do before the night was actually over, and it was already past 3 am.

“Hey,” Carisi appeared beside you as he removed his vest, “want a ride back to the station?”

You took a breath of the not so cool night air, sweaty from the heat and the chase, in desperate need of some food and a shower, then sleep. But you weren’t finished just yet, so you gave an appreciative nod to Carisi and let Voight know that you were going to make your statement and write up your report.

He let you go and soon you were making your way down the street with Carisi, back to your car near the bar, which was currently swarming with police and forensics. Carisi greeted a few of them in passing and before you knew it you were driving back to the district.

“Your gut was right afterall,” Carisi noted. You’d found Logan, he was safe, and Ronny wasn’t going to ever be able to hurt him again. It had been a long night, but you’d done good, so you allowed yourself a moment of satisfaction.

“Hell of a night, but yeah I guess so,” you replied, staring off out of the window as the buildings and lights passed by. New York was something else, and you wished you’d gotten a chance to see more of it under better circumstances, and during the day, but it had certainly been memorable.

Your hands weren’t shaking quite so much anymore, but jumping in front of a man with a loaded gun had certainly rattled you more than you’d let on. It had been reckless, more so than usual, but your need to protect Logan and get Ronny behind bars had overridden that bit of sense. It had paid off this time, but you really did have to be more careful, or so Antonio kept telling you.

You turned back from the window when you noticed Carisi throw you a couple of glances as he drove. “You know, there’s a pizza place not too far from here, they’re not gourmet, but they are open this time of night.”

Before you could answer, your stomach growled, earning a laugh from Carisi as he changed course, discussing the best toppings as he did.

Soon, you were both back at his desk at the district, a couple of others had came and went, offering pats on the back for a job well done, but you and Carisi found yourself talking even further into the night until both the paperwork and pizza were done, feeling very satisfied.

“I’ll be the first to admit this isn’t the truest representation of the best New York pizza,” Carisi laughed, throwing on his jacket as you both got up to leave.

It was going on half 4 in the morning, and any food and drink you had after dark hit differently, especially after a long case on a nearly empty stomach. “You won’t hear me complaining,” you replied.

God, you needed a shower, you thought as you put your jacket over your arm, knowing that it would just feel way too uncomfortable and hot to put it on. Voight had booked you all into some cheap motels for the night, but the picture Vanessa had sent you earlier on was making you dread the experience. Carisi had visibly cringed when he’d seen it.

“I know I should probably head to sleep when I get home, but I’m still a little too wired,” Carisi said as you made your way towards the exit.

“I know what you mean,” you told him, eyes and mind still wide awake after the events of the night.

“What, not looking forward to getting back to your five star accommodation?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“God don’t remind me,” you complained, earning a laugh at your expense, “but it’s either that or sleep on the street... though the street might actually be more appealing.”

A odd kind of silence filled the elevator then, neither of you seeming to know what to say next before the doors dinged open and you wandered out back into the night, or well, more like very early morning.

“You could... stay somewhere else?” Carisi offered, half awkwardly half suggestively. Was he, suggesting what you thought he was?

Your heart skipped a beat, taking in Carisi as he stood before you, a look on his face that definitely told you he was unsure of whether he should have said that or not. You were still wired, and you’d had half a mind to do a quick workout back at the motel to let off some more steam to try and take a grimey shower and sleep, but that was before you now had another option...

“Lead the way,” you answered, smiling as he did too, your night in New York continuing to surprise you in the best possible ways...

[izzielizzie]

Footnotes in the Story of Your Life

Nancy Drew never wanted to move from everything she knew in New York to an unwelcoming town in Maine, and she secretly refuses to enjoy her upcoming final year of high school, but that might not even happen when she and four Horseshoe Bay natives - Bess Marvin the socialite, Ace the stoic son of a single mother, George Fan the town foster child/screw up, and Ned Nickerson HBPD’s favorite ex-con - are accused of attempted murder. Nancy’s startled - when she said she wanted something interesting to happen she didn’t mean this - but soon she starts to notice that not everything is as it seems here (AU).

Title from “Tolerate It” by Taylor Swift

Nancy’s mother finds her sitting on her bed on the first day of summer with a framed photograph in her hands. Kate Drew softens at the sight of her daughter, her usually perfect posture long forgotten as she wilts into the bed.

“Nance,” she says quietly, and Nancy instantly looks up, her face crumpling. Kate crosses the bare room to sit next to her only daughter, wrapping a secure arm around her shoulder. “Moving must be hard, huh?” For the past month, the family of three had been packing up their New York home in River Heights, loading things into trucks as their friends came by with endless casseroles and ceramic dishes they didn’t know what to do with. Nancy, as social as her mother before her, had drawn into herself more and more as she made her goodbyes. 

“Liven up Nance,” Carson, Kate’s husband and Nancy’s father had said not too long ago as they ate the tuna casserole Helen Coring - Nancy’s best friend - had brought earlier that day as they put the contents of Nancy’s room into a U Haul truck. “We’re moving to River Heights Drive. Not that much of a change, right?”

Nancy had spent the rest of the night glaring at her father, resenting his audacity, and Kate had taken over with the reassurances. 

“Yeah. I just hate the idea that I’m missing senior year.”

“Well, you’re not missing it per say. You’re still going to school here.”

Nancy looks at the picture of her, Helen, and another friend named Burt at the junior prom, their arms around each other. Nancy sighs. She considers launching into a tirade about how New York and Maine are very different places and no she is missing school, the important parts at least, but she knows that this move is hard on her mother too, so she refrains. “I guess so,” she says, reluctantly putting the picture on the stand she had placed next to her bed. 

Kate kisses the top of Nancy’s head. “Good. Now why don’t you explore and I’ll see what casserole I can heat up.”

“Ugh Mom,” Nancy says, already grinning as she pulls her blue raincoat from one of the boxes on the floor in front of her.

 Nancy’s wanderings lead her to a small seafood restaurant with a great view of the Atlantic. Nancy’s not used to being this close to large bodies of water, and it’s making her a little nauseous. Her father, a native of Boston, assures her that she’ll get over the salt air smell, but Nancy’s not so sure. 

She looks up at the claw shaped sign, creaking eerily on its pole. The Bayside Claw Nancy reads. What a fitting name. And a fitting sign. Nancy’s about to turn and keep walking, since she’s not a big seafood person, but she sees a handful of well dressed men enter the restaurant. Nancy’s spent enough time in New York City to know when a well dressed person is just fashion conscious, or when they’re rich and up to something. These men are definitely the latter. Nancy pauses for a few moments to make sure that the men have had the time to settle, since she locked eyes with a young man with sandy blond hair and the beginnings of a goatee, and she doesn’t want him to think she’s following him.

Nancy is an unnecessarily paranoid person. 

She pushes through the doors of the restaurant and is nearly mowed over by a person the moment she steps into the dining area. “Whoah, I’m sorry,” she says, stepping back in time to see a woman with long black hair and an oversized cardigan stagger backwards, clearly discombobulated by well… everything. 

“Ugh, Victoria,” A girl about Nancy’s age in a green uniform grumbles. She catches sight of Nancy. “Sorry about that ma’am,” the waitress says, reaching down to haul the woman (presumably Victoria) off the ground. The waitress pushes Victoria out of the door that’s still held open by Nancy. “Go be drunk somewhere else!” The waitress - whose name tag reads George - turns to Nancy. “Can I help you?” 

Nancy freezes, not quite sure why to say she’s here now that she’s been spotted by this rather vocal waitress when she’s saved by another waitress, this time in yellow. 

“George, Mr. Hudson wants us to give his wife food,” the waitress says in a posh British accent. She’s holding a wobbly plate of fish and salad in one hand. 

George turns from Nancy to the new waitress, annoyance crossing her face. “Well what do you want me to do? Roll it onto a cart for her? Go bring it outside!”

“Mr. Hudson left his wife outside?” Nancy asks, without thinking. 

“Yeah, that fellow over there,” the waitress in yellow points to the sandy haired man Nancy had tailed into here. 

“And that fellow is both incredibly rich and able to give us a boost and my foster dad so maybe you should shut up and give Tiffany her food,” George snaps. Both Bess and Nancy flush. 

“Sorry,” Bess mumbles, stepping away and around Nancy to slip through the front door. Nancy’s a little jostled when Bess passes her, and she spins a little, turning towards the kitchen. She catches sight of a young man in a colorful Hawaiian shirt ringing the bell to signify an order. They lock eyes - ice blue on sky - and Nancy feels a wave of déjà vu pass over her, but she shakes it off. She turns back to George, who’s still looking at her, waiting for Nancy to say something. 

Finally, Nancy makes up her mind. If she’s going to be stuck in this tiny town she might as well do something to occupy her time. “Are you hiring?”

George looks her over. “Are you new here?”

Oh. So it’s that kind of tiny town. “Yes, my family just moved here.”

George nods. “Right. Well, we could always use a new waitress. We had one leave for college and Bess isn’t the brightest so…” George trails off, cocking her head. “Do you hear that?”

Both Nancy and George tilt their heads towards the front door of the restaurant, where they can hear muffled shouting. Both girls look at each other for a moment before Nancy spins and pushes the door open. George is hot on her heels, and after a few moments, a third pair of feet joins them. Nancy turns to see shaggy blond hair under a black cap and knows that it’s the boy from behind the counter.

Nancy stops suddenly when she sees Bess standing over a body, shock on her face. “Omph,” Nancy says as both George and the other guy come barreling into her. She stumbles, and George catches her around the waist. Nancy opens her mouth to ask the very obvious question hanging in the air- 

“Bess? What happened?” a decidedly male voice asks, taking the words straight from Nancy’s mouth. She looks up to see a tall boy with cocoa skin exiting a blue truck parked a foot behind Bess, the body, and the sleek car looming over the person Nancy can only assume is Mrs. Hudson. 

A strangled cry escapes George, and she rushes forward, dropping to her knees next to the woman. “Help her!” George says, looking up at the four of them as she lifts Mrs. Hudson’s head to rest on her knees. She cradles it in her hands like an injured bird. 

“What happened?” the Hawaiian shirt boy repeats. Bess is sobbing now. 

“I turned to go back to the restaurant and all of a sudden she cried out and fell! I don’t know!” 

Nancy, still not quite sure what in the world is happening, crouches next to George and Mrs. Hudson. She lifts one of Mrs. Hudson’s hands, feeling her wrist for a pulse. 

“She’s not dead,” she says as sirens come wailing towards them.

Fifteen minutes later, Nancy, Bess, George, and the two boys are sitting in the hospital waiting room with Mr. Hudson, George leaning against Mr. Hudson’s shoulder.

“The Hudsons have been her foster parents for the longest out of any of her homes,” Bess says, leaning over to whisper in Nancy’s ear. Nancy smiles at her. “I remember what it’s like being new. I only moved in with my aunt here in Horseshoe Bay last month. I used to live in London. I’m Bess by the way.”

“Nancy,” Nancy says.

“Welcome. Where did you live before?”

“New York.”

“City?”

“State.”

“Oh that’s nice. I love the city, did you go often?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Nancy says as the waiting room doors swing open. She’s startled to see a man in a uniform striding towards their little group. He’s probably in his thirty or forties, and he’s got a no nonsense look on his face. 

“Are you the people found at the scene of the crime?” he asks in lieu of greeting. 

“Woah, woah, crime?” Mr. Hudson asks, standing up, startling George, who had been dozing on his shoulder. 

The officer turns to Mr. Hudson solemnly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “There was poison found in your wife’s system, Mr. Hudson, which means that someone had attempted to kill her.”

Everyone turns to Bess, except Mr. Hudson and the officers. 

Mr. Hudson stares at the officer for a moment before sinking into his seat, a look of genuine fear on his face. “Who would want to kill Tif?”

“Not me I swear!” Bess cries, latching on to Nancy’s arm. Nancy gently pries her fingers off her arm.

The officer shakes his head, ignoring the distraught waitress. “I’m not sure sir, but it’s our job to figure it out. Why is why I need to speak to these five.”

They all look at Mr. Hudson: Nancy, George, Bess, and the two boys whose names Nancy still doesn’t know. But Mr. Hudson’s face is ashen, like he’s going into shock. The officer motions at the young people. “Come along.”

The five of them look at each other uncertainly before standing and following the officer into the hall. Nancy catches sight of his badge: Chief E. O. McGinnis. 

Now, Nancy, being the daughter of a lawyer, should know her rights, and the right to remain silent is the biggest one, especially since she’s a minor, but she’s too confused and terrified to think straight. 

She’s being investigated for attempted murder. Attempted murder. God her mother’s going to kill her. 

The unlikely five line up against the wall. Chief McGinnis paces in front of them. “Alright. I’m looking at an ex-con,” he pauses in front of the guy from the truck. “The town screw up,” (this time he’s in front of George). “A city girl,” he’s in front of Bess now, who looks rather guilty in Nancy’s opinion. He moves to the fancy shirt guy standing next to Nancy. “An HBPD legacy and Nancy Drew.”

Except, that’s not what he says.

He pauses in front of Nancy, and tilts his head at her. “Who are you again?”

Nancy stares at him as the weird feeling of déjà vu hits her again. No. That’s not right. He knows who she is. 

But she doesn’t know who he is. 

Nancy feels her hands start to shake. Everything here is wrong. She should be sitting at the police station. She should know what’s happening. But she doesn’t because she’s being accused of attempted murder. 

But it shouldn’t be attempted. Nancy slides down the wall, her hands pulling at her skin where she can feel the ghost of a locket. 

My mother’s gonna kill me she thinks. But no, her mom’s dead. And Ryan isn’t George’s foster dad. He’s her dad.

This isn’t right.

This isn’t ri-

“Okay just give her space.” 

When Nancy comes to, she’s looking up into the face of the boy who had been working at the Bayside Claw. Nancy’s laying on the ground, her head against the cold tile. The boy gently slips an arm under her shoulders, helping her to sit up.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

Nancy doesn’t know the answer to that. He can tell, so he tries a different question. “What’s your name?”

“Nancy Drew,” she croaks. He smiles.

“Hi Nancy Drew. My name is Ace Hardy.”

“Hi,” Nancy mumbles back.

“And that’s Nick,” Ace says, pointing to the boy from the truck who’s hovering on the outskirts of the circle of people around her. “I hear you’ve met the girls.”

Nancy nods and Ace gently slips his other arm under her knees, lifting her up in his arms like she weighs nothing. He walks her towards the waiting room, talking as he goes. “That, Nancy, was a panic attack. Have those often?”

Nancy leans her pounding head against his muscular shoulder. “No.”

“Well, first time for everything. Got anyone we can call?”

“My dad,” she mumbles. Ace nods to Bess, who rushes forward with her phone out. Nancy recites her father’s number, and Bess puts it to her ear.

“Hello? Hi, yes, this is Bess Marvin. I’m calling about your daughter. She’s in the hospital, she had a panic attack.” Bess is quiet for a moment. “Nancy Drew, yes.” After a moment, Bess rattles off directions and hangs up. 

Ace puts Nancy down on a chair next to Mr. Hudson. Nancy looks at him sideways. She’s about to say something to him when suddenly - as if her brain has been reset or something - she forgets what she was going to say.

“Want some water Nancy?” Ace asks. Nancy smiles at the unfamiliar boy. 

“Yes, please,” she says. He stands and heads to the water cooler, Bess taking his spot. “What did the officer mean by Ace is a legacy?”

“Oh, that,” Bess says sadly. “Ace’s father was a Captain on the police force. He was in a chase once when Ace was a child. His car got hit, and he didn’t make it.”

“That’s so sad,” Nancy says. 

“I know,” Bess agrees. “His mother is all he has. She’s a librarian, but she doesn’t make a lot of money. They just get by with her salary and the pension from the state. That’s why Ace turned down MIT. To work at The Claw.”

“That must be so hard,” Nancy says. She can’t imagine giving up her dream of going to Columbia. 

“It is,” Bess agrees as the doors to the waiting room are pushed open. Nancy sees her father and mother being trailed by an annoyed McGinnis.

“You can’t just take a suspect home! She has to be fingerprinted! She has to give her statement!”

Carson turns on McGinnis. “Excuse me, but my daughter is a minor and she’s had a panic attack.”

“We’re taking her,” Kate adds. She spots Nancy and rushes to her, crouching to put her hands on either side of her daughter’s face. “Nancy, baby, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Okay, we’re taking you home, don’t worry, Mom’s here.”

It’s a simple statement, and normally Nancy would complain that it makes her sound like a child, but it relaxes her nonetheless. She slumps into her mom, letting the exhaustion and confusion sink over her. 

Kate runs her fingers through her red hair as Carson argues with McGinnis, who finally relents. 

“Fine, fine, you all can go if Drew is going. But I expect you back at the station at eight am sharp.”

Nancy is pulled to her feet by her mother, and before she moves, she puts a hand on Mr. Hudson’s shoulder. “Your wife will get better sir,” she says. Mr. Hudson puts his hand over hers. 

“Thanks.”

Nancy waves goodbye to everyone else before following her parents. As she falls asleep in the back seat of her dad’s car, all she can think is that something about this entire night is off. 

[catracorner962]

Beautiful Children Ch3

It's been five years since Horde Prime was defeated. Two years since Catra and Adora got married. Magic has been brought to Etheria, but all is not well. On a mission to destroy the last of The Brotherhood of Prime Catra finds an orphan magicat among the ruin. Now she and Adora must decide if they are ready for another adventure all together. Adora is ecstatic, Catra...less so. Through their decision, both must revisit childhood memories, some more pleasant than others.

*Warning: Violence, themes of childhood abuse and trauma.*

Like my writing? Consider buying me a Ko-fi! 

“Will you shut up Kyle?”

Catra crouched with him in the training arena, trying to listen for any oncoming bots.

“I...I can’t! W..what if they...h...h..hear us!? And Hordak is watching us...what if I mess up?”

“They aren’t going to hear us with you blubbering now shut it!

I’m never going to make Force Captain if Kyle costs me this drill. Why the hell did I have to get stuck with him?

Kyle opened his mouth to let loose another shrill cry. Catra’s claws unsheathed, gripping her staff tight.

“A bot!”

Catra turned to see Lonnie and Rogelio dodged a blast from their bot. She instantly darted her gaze from them to where Adora perched up in the rafters with her partner.

“It’s going to get us!” Kyle lamented through his runny nose.

“Kyle I swear to Hordak if you don’t shut up…”

Catra grit her teeth, tail lashing. Hordak’s red glare emanated from the screen above, surveying all around them. The final round of training examinations.

Catra watched Lonnie vault over their bot, attempting a swing at the bot. It moved away just in time, her aim missing. Rogelio landed a scraping blow against the bot’s other side, it directed its gaze towards him firing another laser.

“The bot is going to come, it’s going to get us!”

“Kyle....” Catra hissed a warning. The fur on her tail and her entire length of unmanageable hair already static. The bots scrapped metal against metal firing off lazers.  Catra’s eyes scanned the metal rafters above, trying to detect where it would come from. Hordak grumbled something, exact words lost to the melee of Adora, Lonnie and Rogelio fighting their bots.

“Catra I caaaan’t!”

Kyle wailed in terror.

A flash of light, Catra hissed, leaping away from the lazer as it fired. Creating a smokey ring of melting metal where she’d been crouched seconds before. Kyle curled in on himself, staff discarded. He trembled, arms shaking folded over his head.

Catra spared a glance up where Hordak surveyed from his sanctum on the large screen. Gaze inexplicable but honed with criticism.

She jumped down from the iron beams, claws out. Tearing into the bot with fury. It rolled to the left, Catra leapt down, landing on the ground.  

“We’re dead!” Kyle sobbed, whole body trembling.

“Kyle shut the fuck up! You can forfeit but I’m not!”

Catra grabbed his arm, wrenching him out of the striking range of another blast.

She slammed him against the floor.

“Shut up right now. Or I’ll shut you up myself!”

I’m not losing because Kyle can’t get his shit together. I’m not fucking up in front of Hordak and Shadow Weaver just because I got stuck with him.

She shivered at the thought of what Shadow Weaver would do to her if she did fail.

“Catraa…”

She lashed out, claws striking against Kyle’s face in a single blow. He shrieked, hands going to cover his eye.. Lines of red marred him from his left brow to his right cheek. Blood perked and  quickly ran freely down his jawline to his neck. Warm thick blood dribbled down her claws.

Shit...shit...shit…

“Fuck, Kyle…”

Catra sucked a breath in, eyes darting wildly from her partner’s face up to the screen where Hordak loomed. Face unchanged.

“Kyle shit I...shouldn’t.”

“Aah!”

Catra screeched, hot pain flaring across her side. She tumbled, grunting, facing the bot, staff drawn looking at her advisory. She panted for breath, sweat beading on her face.

It fired again, this time she was ready. Claws still stained with Kyle’s blood Catra latched onto the metal of the bot and finished what she’d started. Striking persistent blows, clinging to it even as it rolled and weaved across the arena.

“Argh!”

Catra plunged her staff into the bot’s optics. It stuttered, shifted, it's whirring, buzzing, dying out. The bot collapsed. Catra grinned with pride, chest thrust out. She hoped down easily, facing Hordak on the screen and saluted.

That must’ve been record time! That’ll show them!

Hordak only stared at her, gaze unreadable. The screen turned black, the lights of the arena flicking on once more.

“Adora! Did you see me? I really got that one good! Shadow Weaver?”

Catra looked around, Adora finally coming over to her but, her face was drawn. Eyes hard.

“Catra….what did you do to him?”

“That bot didn’t stand a chance I….”

“Not the bot!” Adora screamed, pointing. “Kyle! You hurt Kyle! Catra you could’ve taken his eye out!”

Catra looked over her shoulder slowly to where Kyle lay, still concealing his face. Blood now ran down from his arms staining the floor. Rogelio and Lonnie crouched over him.

“I….I’m sorry I got angry,” she fumbled, looking pleading at Adra’s unflinching eyes. “I should’ve hurt him...It...it was wrong.”

“Don’t say sorry to me,” Adora cut her off, brushing past her to their fallen teammate. Catra stood awkwardly, mouth agape. Watching as medics came to take Kyle away.

“Catra,”

She straightened, ears pricking.

Shadow Weaver loomed over her.

“Ye...yes Shadow Weaver?”

“Come. Now.”

Catra swallowed, searching for Adora across the arena, She knew what was coming. What was going to happen.

Please Adora just look up please, can’t you see where she’s taking me. Shit...Kyle, Kyle I’ll never scratch you again.

Shadow Weaver’s icy grip dug into her shoulder, yanking her towards the Black Garnet Chamber.  

Kyle’s cries of pain echoed in Catra’s head. It hurt worse than Shadow Weaver’s magic.

---

Maybe she’ll just let it go.

Catra watched the tops of the trees become more detailed as they descended towards Etheria.

That’s Adora. She burns hard and fast. We’ll land, get things organized and find someone else to take care of it. She’ll be over it by next moon.

Catra retained wistful hope even as she glanced towards Adora presently in her SheRa form, only this time there was a sword on one hip and a baby on the other. The magikit’s large blue eyes gazed wondrously at the surroundings. People pressed together for a glimpse out the window, the sunlight streaming in, blue sky, the shimmering gold that surrounded the warrior woman whenever she retained this form. Catra shook her head, tail twitching.

This will just be one more thing on the list of harebrained schemes I’ve had to talk Adora out of.  

Catra adjusted her weight, the movement of the large ship swaying, dipping lower.

“Alright folks,” Bow’s voice came through the com’s system, “we’ll be landing in Brightmoon shortly, find something to hold on to.”

“Pshh,” Catra rolled her eyes, scoffing but reached out towards SheRa, winding lithe arm’s around her wife’s solid arm, clutching at it tightly.

Adora glanced at her, a little blush forming under her glowing blue eyes. Despite her irritation, Catra’s stomach fluttered. She braced for the landing. Whole ship touched down with a rough jarring thud. People screamed, several of them falling to the floor. Catra’s tail thrashed for balance.

“Eeehhh,” the baby’s little mouth opened in a large gaping frown. Nervous little arms flailing.

“Shhhh, quiet,” Catra hissed.

“It’s okay,” Adora soothed, kissing the crown of it’s head. The smart comment forming on Catra’s tongue stopped, watching Glimmer teleport before the main doors. The bewildered villagers watched her in apt attention, gathering whatever little belongings they had managed to grab.

“Welcome to Brightmoon!” She announced with pride. As if on cue the large door lifted, revealing bright sunlight and a wave of perfumed air. Catra bit back a grin, careful to not seem too happy. The feeling of being on solid ground sending a relief through her body.

“Welcome home Finn,” Adora whispered to the infant, beaming.

Finn?! She named it? Shit.

“Adora,” Catra grumbled, relinquishing her hold on Adora’s arm. Her wife cocked her head, ever confused.

“What?”

“You named…..?”

“Can you two help me?” Glimmer appeared before them, arms full of bags.

“Give them here Sparkles,” Catra grabbed two full sacks from under Glimmer’s arms, eager for any excuse to separate herself from the magikit. It stared at her uncomfortably, eyes boring into her back as she walked away.

Catra made herself busy. It was better than stewing in anger. She heaved a single basket into one of the wagons to be brought to the palace.

“Excuse me….oh,” the villager’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Catra tried to keep her voice growling.

“You’re her,” the woman murmured in shock, eyes roving over Catra’s form with shock.

Shit, her belly squirmed with tension.  Shit shit shit. Okay. Speech time. Yes I am former Force Captain Catra. No I am no longer with the Horde. I’ve been in the alliance for years now and SheRa’s wife damnit.

The villager woman let loose a string of unimaginably unkind words in her native language. Turning on her heel and grabbing the sack Catra had lifted in her arms.

“Do you need...help?” Catra asked lamely, all bluster sucked from her the moment the woman let loose her fury. She shook her head vehemently.

“Not from you, Horde Cunt. You disgust me. The Brotherhood of Prime would never have come to us had your army not let him into Despondos. You think Etheria was the only planet you destroyed? Ha. Fuck you.”

She spat at Catra, the runny lob missing her boot by an inch.

“Fuck you!”

Catra watched the woman struggle with her sack, teetering up the palace steps. Shuffling to the entrance.

She heaved a breath, there was no point in arguing.

It’s not like she’s wrong anyway.

Catra quickly ran a hand down her tail, smoothing the defensive pricks of hair.

“Wildcat!”

Before she could prepare herself, strong arms lifted her off the ground. Catra stiffened for a moment, then allowed herself to ease into the large woman’s hug.

“Good to see you too Scorp,” she managed through the suffocating hold. It was good to see her. Sweet Scorpia, who had always been there for her. Even when she shouldn’t have. Five years after the war, after everything her relationship to Scorpia remained one of the harder aspects of her “journey of atonement,” or whatever the hell Perfuma called it.

It had taken a long time, it would continue to take a long time, but with so much uncertainty in the face of this new child, Scorpia’s presence was much welcome.

“Hey…uh Scorpia, could you?”

“Right! Right, putting you down now, sorry!” Catra managed a smile as the princess let her down on solid ground.

“How was the mission! Did you fight any clones? You’re okay right? You didn’t get hurt? Are you…”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Catra muttered, patting one large claw.  “It’s good to be home.”

“It sure is! For you I mean, I wasn’t there. But oh Perfuma has everything set up for our new arrivals, I hope they like it here! I’ve been helping her get ready. We should have these people settled in no time. You  must be exhausted! Do you want some tea? And how’s Adora? Did she turn into Shera?”

“Catra!”

She sighed, looking around through the throngs of people and excited noise. Suddenly very tired and very ready for whatever tea Scorpia had to offer.

Adora approached no longer as SheRa. The baby still in her arms.

“Can you hold them for me? I have to get the last of the goods from the ship and help Mermista.”

“I don’t think…”

Scorpia gasped, eyes bulging.

“Is that…..?”

Catra shot her a “ we will talk about it later please please just don’t say anything right now,” glare she hoped wasn’t too severe.

A small weight fell into her arms and Catra looked down at the gurgling baby.

“Adora I can’t…” but Adora took off, back to the ship in a flutter of movement.

She stared at the baby, quirking a brow at the passive little face.

“What do you want?”

It’s tail flicked but it only sucked at its own fist, blue eyes focused in on Catra.

“Is that a baby? It’s so cute it looks just like you!” Scorpia could only contain herself so long.

“Yeah it is okay, I found it, let’s just,” Catra looked around the crowd of people now finally thinning out.  She took Scorpia’s claw with her free hand. “Let’s just get away from here.” Catra led them to one of the back doors farther from the sound of people and princesses.

“Is it a magicat like you? But it has Adora’s hair! And her eyes!” Scorpia reached out a pincer to the baby’s clenched fist.

“You said you found it? Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays? Are you sure you and Adora didn’t….”

“I think I’d know if we did!” Catra’s ears flattened to the back of her head. She looked down at the baby again.

It really is so small. If...If I’d just left it there it would’ve….I’m not that heartless. I just….

The little fingers grazed Cata’s own. A spark of warmth blooming in her chest.  She shoved it down quickly. Removing her finger from it’s hold.

“Are you going to keep it?” Scorpia gushed, reaching out once more to the baby. It blinked up at her even as it’s little hand felt experimentally at her pincer.

Catra held the baby out away from her, towards Scorpia, lest that feeling return.

“No we’re not keeping it. We just....we’re gonna figure it out.”

“I know you will Wildcat.”

It was silly, but Catra bit her lip, her stomach flip flopping. She didn’t deserve to hear those words, not from Scorpia. But as Perfuma explained,  denying such friendship and words from Scorpia would deny her her own agency and Catra never wanted to do that ever again. She settled on a smile and a nod.

“Alright I don’t know how much longer I can take this, I need to find Adora. I’ll catch you later Scorp”  

Before Scorpia could retort she bounded off. Tucking the baby under her chin.

It smells fresh…delicate...but also like Adora...and the ship. It smells like magic...and...milk. Did Adora give it milk? Where did she get it? Stop squirming so much. Shhh.

Worthless little wretch

Horde Cunt….you brought Horde Prime to Despondos.

I flipped the switch, opened the portal. Scarred Adora’s back. Took over the Horde.

Hurt people

Killed people

I can’t...

The memories of which sent her mind wandering back to dark places.

Catra strode through the palace doors, holding the baby under her chin. It’s smell lingering in her nose. It’s soft skin brushing against her. It’s warmth radiating. She breathed in the scent, letting it wash over her for one scant moment. Her eyes slipping closed. She held the magikit to her tighter, tilting her head against one soft felt ear.

“Shhhh, you’re fine.”

Catra followed the voices of the princesses into the castle, through the pastel halls. The walls shimmering and reflective.

Don’t look, don’t look. She told herself, the corner of her eye catching the image of herself and the magikit.

Don’t look.

“Catra! There you are,” Adora stepped out from one of the large double doors into the hall. Her face visibly melted, taking in the scene of Catra holding the magikit to her chest.

“What?” She demanded, ears flicking.

“Nothing you….you look….” she watched her wife try to find her words. Which would’ve been cute if it wasn’t hinged on the little bundle in her arms.

“Here, just take it,” Catra held the baby out to Adora who accepted it gladly. Cooing and patting it. Catra folded her arms back over her chest, rubbing down the goosebumps on her skin.

“Glimmer agreed to give us all the rest of the day off now that most people have been sent to the kingdoms where they’ll be living.”

“Great,” Catra answered monotone.

“I thought we could take Finn on a walk!”

Here it goes,  Catra squared herself, reluctantly ready for an argument.

“So you did name it.”

“Do you like it? It  just kinda came to me. I was holding them and I thought it was a nice name.”

“Adora….can we not have this conversation in the hallway?”

Catra turned quickly, tail flicking making a B-line towards their quarters.

---

“Catra,”

She tightened her fist, back turned to Adora. In their large room, the waterfall fell casting soft sounds of splashing through the room. Balcony windows open, the first moon slowly began to drift up over the horizon.

“Catra? What’s up?”

Adora held Finn in one arm, it had evidently fallen asleep again from the walk between the council room and their own chambers. Catra held her breath, then released it, making sure her claws were kept sheathed.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

Adora’s attention remained on Finn, rocking it slowly before settling it down on their bed. She kissed it’s head and swept a strand of blonde hair behind it’s ear.

She does look lovely. Like a devoted mother. Typically. Adora’s great at everything. Why should this be any different.

Catra bit her lip, hair pricking, how frustratingly quick that old resentment bubbled up. Her tail lashed, claws pricking against her arms.

Catra dragged a hand over her face in exasperation, trying to suck in a deep breath.

“About what? Umm, I don’t know, adopting a child?”

Adora stood up from where she’d bent over the magikit, as if snapped out of a trance.

"Since when do I have to run every decision by you?"

Catra balked,

"Uhh I don't know since we got married?"

“We can do this Catra! It will be great!” Adora opened her arms to Catra, her eyes shimmering in the growing dark of their room. Part of Catra just wanted to fold into those arms and be held.

“You don’t know that,” Catra snapped, planting her hands on her hips.

Adora’s face crumpled into a frown, crossing her arms.

“I want this Catra, why can’t you understand that! I finally...I worked so hard to allow myself to want anything and...I want this. I want to do it right this time.”

Catra glanced at the magikit, somehow still asleep despite their raised voices. Her ears pricked forward, stepping dangerously close to Adora, her voice an infuriated whisper.

“You think this is some sort of do over?!”

“What...what do you mean?” Adora demanded.

“Don’t be an idiot Adora I know how your mind works!” Catra erupted.

“You think you failed when we were kids to protect me, that I got corrupted and you see this baby as a chance to get it right.”

Her claws cut into her palms, searching in Adora’s bright blue eyes, currently narrowed into an ambivalent glare.

“That’s not true!” Adora flung her arms wide, doing her best to control her voice.

“Tell me you don’t feel responsible then,” Catra challenged folding her arms. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you no longer feel guilty for what was done to us.”

“Alright fine! I do okay? I do feel like I failed you!” Her voice cracked, tears ebbing into her eyes. I don't want this kid to turn out jaded and bitter. I don’t want them to turn out like you!”

The words were out before Adora could stop them. Fueled by ears of repression built up from self-loathing and some strange pity she still harbored for the Catra of the past. Whether a crying infant, a beaten child, or a  stubborn angry young woman, refusing to leave the Horde and spiraling into self destruction.

Catra flinched, her ears drooping but her eyes blazed with fury. Quick to cover the hurt. Adora held her breath, flesh riddled with goosebumps. The silence between them heavy and heated.

“Ehhh,” Adora turned towards the magikit on the bed, it’s small face drawn in anxiety, ears against its head. Catra remained frozen where she stood, watching Adora switch from blistering anger to gentile tenderness in an instant.

Unfucking believable.

“Like...me?” Catra finally seethed once she was able to make coherent sentences again.

“I just meant,”

“Oh I know exactly what you meant!” Catra hissed. Her rage firing through Adora’s chest, claws now out she pointed an accusatory finger at Adora’s chest.

“No you don’t Catra. You don’t know nearly as much as you think.” Adora let out a shaky breath, all fight gone from her in an instant. She shoved Catra’s finger away with dismissive exhaustion. She looked at Catra with finality, words measured and even.

“I want to raise this child with you. I want to have a future, a family with you. A happy one. I want to do it over, you’re right.  I thought that’s what you wanted too. I don’t want Finn to hurt like you...like you and I did.” She swallowed, tears pricking at her eyes.

Catra swallowed, throat dry. Her body rigid with indignation.

“I’m not selfish for wanting that. It’s not about you. It’s about Finn, about a chance to have a family. If that’s not what you want…”

Adora stiffened, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Then I don’t know what to tell you.” Catra tracked her movements as her wife  strode across the room, throwing the double doors open and taking off down the hall. Leaving her alone with the magikit.

Catra gulped, finally able to draw air. Adora’s words stinging in her chest. She flexed her claws, retracting them.

You’re not enough. She wants more. No, it’s not that she’s...she’s...it’s not that. It’s NOT.

She rubbed her own eyes, roughly pressing the tears back.

“AARGH!” Catra slashed at the wall deep furrowed claw marks scratching through the light paint. Her hand vibrated with the impact. She drove it again and again into the sturdy wall. Shoving the anger and the loathing from her chest out through her claws. Until fury gave way fatigue.

Catra  crossed over to the bed where the baby slept, soothed by Adora. Her own body spent of any anger. In its sleep, the infant’s eyes moved back and forth as if dreaming. Catra sat down beside it. Reaching out for a moment, before pulling back holding her hand to her own chest.  Finn slumbered on, oblivious to the turmoil around them. Catra adjusted the sheet around the magikit, making sure it was snug and warm. She scoffed,

Must be nice. Just you wait, the world is a lot meaner than you know.

[melancholicumsomnia]

[FIC] A Little Miracle In The Volume Part 4

A/N: Here’s Part 4 of my fic contribution to PEDRO PASCAL APPRECIATION WEEK 2021! The #ppaw2021 theme of Day 4 is Favorite pics/videos from Pedro’s IG or Twitter. I love any pic of Pedro with Oscar Isaac, but I love these two the most (the first one coming from Pedro’s IG).

Again many thanks to @pedrohub​ for PPAW and to @pedrocentric​ for patiently hearing this frustrated writer’s complaints about the plotting and writing process. 

PREVIOUS PARTS

Part 1

Part 2 

Part 3

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A Little Miracle In The Volume

By

Rory

Part Four

Oscar was having a strange dream as he slept in his bed in Brooklyn. It had started out quite beautifully in fact – there he was, walking in a field of sunflowers, with the sun shining down on his head. Suddenly, he heard a loud buzzing noise, coming from a short distance away from him. His eyes grew wide as a dark cloud rose from those blossoms. To his even greater horror, that cloud began to head his way.

Bees!  

“WHOA!” Oscar cried out as he turned tail and ran for his life. 

But the bee swarm was relentless, following him down the hill and into the woods. In his fear of getting stung, Oscar would whirl back often to see how far the swarm was. The bees were, however, slowly but surely closing the gap between them. It was when he turned to look back again that he failed to see the thick root of an oak jutting out from the leaves-covered ground ahead of him. With a surprised “Woof!” Oscar tripped on the root and fell face first on the ground. 

As he turned onto his back, he raised his left arm to protect his face and closed his eyes. “No! Don’t! Please!” But the painful sting he dreaded never came. 

Instead, he felt something small alight on his arm. As Oscar looked at the thing, his jaw dropped in shock.

The bee on his arm had Pedro’s tearful face! As he trained his eyes on the swarm hovering above him, he saw that all of the bees had his best friend’s face!

“Help meee!” The bee made a high-pitched wail. The swarm followed suit, again, with that plaintive cry of “HELP MEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Oscar sat up from his bed with a gasp, wiping the sweat from his face. He glanced at his wife Elvira beside him, but thankfully, he had not woken her up. 

Now that he was fully awake, Oscar’s heart started to race again when he realized that he could still hear that buzzing sound inside the room. Peering through the darkness, he traced the sound to be coming from the floor on his side of the bed. Sure enough, it was his phone that was vibrating non-stop. He must have knocked it over the night stand while thrashing from his nightmare. Not wanting to wake up his wife, Oscar picked up the phone, went outside the bedroom, and tiptoed down to the kitchen. 

As he switched on the light, Oscar pressed “Answer” on his phone, without peeking at the screen to find out who was calling him, and spoke a single “Yeah?” 

The hairs on Oscar’s arms stood on end when his mysterious caller moaned, “GRUMMPPPYYYY!”

“What the f—” All of a sudden, Oscar remembered his dream and he knew who he was talking to. “Baby Chicken, is that you?” A bit pissed off, he added, “Do you know what time it is?”

“I’m sorrryyyy!” Pedro whined back on the other end. “But…but…”

Hearing how distraught his friend was, Oscar was seized by fear and apprehension. “Hey, hey! It’s okay. Did something happen on set? Heaven forbid…did they…did they fire you?”

“No, no! I’ve actually finished a few scenes already.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

A brief pause. Then, there was a choked sob and Pedro wailed, “Werner Herzog is picking on me!”

Both of Oscar’s eyebrows rose at that revelation. From his own personal experience, he knew that a lot of things can happen on a film set, but he never expected that to happen to his friend, who was noted in the industry as one of the friendliest and kindest actors. On the other hand, Werner Herzog was notorious for his eccentric behavior. He couldn’t fathom how his cheerful and so desperately eager-to-please friend could’ve gotten on the bad side of an infamous director like Herzog.

“Now, calm down, Baby Chicken,” Oscar tried to comfort Pedro, as he sat down on a stool. “Tell me what’s been happening.”

For twenty minutes, Oscar listened carefully as Pedro told him about the events of the past few days – about Herzog’s overprotectiveness of the puppet and his determination to keep it away from Pedro. It sounded like lunatic behavior. Then again, this was Werner Herzog they were talking about. Hollywood has gotten used to the director’s eccentricities.

But not poor Pedro.

“Werner has already finished filming his last episode,” Pedro was bringing his narrative to its conclusion. “But he refused to leave the set. He said that he wanted to watch us film Episode 8 in the backlot. Because there were going to be explosions and flamethrowers, he wanted to make sure that the baby would be safe. His wife Lena has been calling the production offices, asking when he was going home. But Werner won’t leave.”

“I have to give credit to the man,” Oscar remarked with a cluck of his tongue. “He certainly is committed to this delusion of his.”

“What’ll I do? I’m having difficulty concentrating with him lurking around like an evil shadow. I constantly feel like I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. And…and…” The quiet admission came. “…I want to spend more time with Grogu.”

So, you fell in love with the puppet too, huh! It must be that cute if you like him this much, Oscar mused to himself. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, he admitted, “Having never met or worked with Werner Herzog before, I’m not sure what advice I could give you. The way I see it, you need to man up to this guy. I mean, you’re the lead actor, for chrissake, and he’s just a guest star! You need to be with that puppet more if you want to develop a convincing on-screen bond with it.”

“My point exactly! But I’m terrified of him. His mood swings scare me.”

“Well, he is an old man. Maybe he misses his kids and grandkids. Hey, I know! Why don’t you give him a nice big cake as a peace offering? Because of their age, a lot of Seniors can no longer eat the foods they loved when they were younger.”

Pedro let out a snort. “Why should I give Werner a cake? He’s the one who’s been terrorizing me!”

“Then I think you have no choice but to man up to him. Maybe not a direct confrontation. Maybe show him something which he can’t do.”

“Well, I can’t think of anything. This is THE Werner Herzog we’re talking about here. He’s done a lot of things in lifetime. Hell, he even ate a shoe on a bet!”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. With your charms, you’ll have Herzog eating out of your hand.”

“I doubt it,” Pedro said dubiously. There was an exhalation on the other end. “I wish you were here to give me a hug, man, coz I really need it.”

“Well, consider yourself virtually hugged and here’s a smooch for good measure.” Oscar then made a loud “Mwah!” on the phone. 

“Thanks, Oscar. And I’m sorry to have woken you up. I…I just needed to hear your voice right now.”

“It’s okay. Just keep in touch, alright? Keep me updated on what’s been happening on set and with Herzog.”

“I will. Bye, Grumpy Eagle!”

“Bye and take care, Baby Chicken!”

There was a soft click as the call ended. 

“Honey?” A sleepy voice spoke behind him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Oscar apologized to his wife Elvira. She was standing at the kitchen doorway, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Elvira wandered over to her husband, who wrapped his arms around her waist and settled her down on his lap. “Was that Pedro on the phone? Is he okay?”

“He’s having some problems with Werner Herzog.”

“THE Werner Herzog? I’ve heard he is quite a character.”

“Judging from what Pedro told me right now, he is certainly that!”

Briefly, Oscar gave his wife a rundown of what’s been happening to his best friend.

Elvira clucked her tongue in dismay and shook her head. “What a silly old man! With Pedro fretting and carrying on about the baby like this, doesn’t Herzog see that Pedro is already acting like a real father?”

Hearing that comment, Oscar could only stare at his wife in amazement at her astuteness.

“I guess Herzog hasn’t noticed it or refuses to see it,” Oscar agreed with her. “Then again, I don’t think Pedro has realized that he has become a Dad to that Child either.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[let-love-run-red]

Vengeance

Hey I have a request if you're willing to write it. How about one where reader is married to Kylo and they have a kid, and reader is angry at Rey for what happened to Kylo and decides to hunt her down for revenge?

-I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind Anon, but this was my take on this, hope you enjoy!

Contains TROS spoilers

General tag list: @keithseabrook27​, @scarlettsoldier​, @simonsbluee​

Empress (y/n) Ren. The unseen second head of the First Order. Now Supreme Leader Mistress Ren, mother to Prince Lucdall Ren. You and his father had often called him Lucky, because that's what he was. He'd been born into the most powerful family. He was a gorgeous baby, and grew into a gorgeous child, with his father’s thick dark hair and strong nose. He had your attitude and your grace. He was already a strong force user and had been training with his father for the day he was to take over the First Order.

Until she came along. 

Rey "Skywalker." You growled every time you heard that name uttered. As you walked through the marketplaces of the planets that had renewed hope. You gripped Lucdall's hand tightly, tugging him along behind you. He was scared, he was confused. His father was gone, he didn't understand death. He was only four years old, he didn't understand why his father wasn't going to come back, he didn't understand why the two of you had to exchange your sleek black clothing for the dusty rags of peasants and slink about the planets in search of hidden First Order bases to regain your following.

There were few things he did understand. He understood that you, his loving mother, cried herself to sleep every night. He understood he must stay quiet, keep his head down, not let anybody see his face. He had made that mistake on Coruscant, somebody had seen his face as they walked through an alley and tried to harm him. Luckily for him, you were a talented warrior that had managed to grab Kylo's recovered lightsaber as you escaped the burning First Order ship with your son.

He also understood the name Rey Skywalker, or Rey Palpatine as you called her, was one to be hated. He saw the way your jaw jumped when somebody said her name, the way your hand itched towards the lightsaber on your hip. If the way you tracked her across the galaxy wasn't enough of an indication the way the rest of the galaxy flew banners with her name etched on them was. Lucdall wasn’t a fan of her either.

As you piloted the small ship you'd stolen off Jakku you listened to Lucky play with a few small toys you'd purchased at one of the marketplaces. They were simple, nothing compared to the various things his father had brought him when he was alive, but they were enough to keep a four-year-old entertained.

Especially a four-year-old with the force you thought as one of the toys hovered around your head. It was a stuffed Nerf. You smiled and brushed it away from your face.

"Lucky, mommy has to fly. Please keep the toys with you?" You asked. You heard a quiet "ok mommy" as the nerf floated back to where Lucky was playing. You heard a sniffle and risked a glance behind you to see Lucky in the middle of the few toys with tears in his eyes. You turned the ship on autopilot before standing from your seat and walking towards your son. He looked so much like Kylo, it hurt you sometimes.

"Lucky, what's wrong?" Lucky stood form his place on the floor and held his arms out to you. You picked him up off the ground and held him against you. He wrapped his arms around your neck and buried his small face in your neck as his small body shook with sobs. You rubbed his back and smoothed his hair down. You sat on the small bed in the cramped ship, trying to hold back your own tears.

Lucdall finally pulled away, wiping his nose and eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. He looked at you, his bottom lip quivering. You felt a pang of sadness looking at your son. The shirt was too large for him, and you could tell it itched by the way he kept fidgeting. He was barefoot, he'd long outgrown his boots. He was growing so quickly; you knew in your heart he was going to be at least as tall as his father. You hadn't been able to find new shoes that you could afford, so you'd wrapped his feet in cloth in an attempt to at least provide some barrier between them and the ground.

"I miss daddy." He said. Those words were enough to re-light the fire that fueled the anger in your heart against the last Jedi. You pursed your lips and used the edge of your sleeve to wipe Lucky's tears from his eyes. You pulled him back into your chest and brushed over his hair once again. It was nearly as long as Kylo's was, and still soft.

"When will he find us?" Lucky asked quietly. You took a deep shaky breath, and let it out slowly.

You had to tell him.

"Lucky, baby." You said softly. He pulled away and looked at you expectantly. He had the eyes of Kylo Ren. There was no doubt he was the Supreme Leader's child, no doubt he was the heir to the throne of the broken remains of the First Order.

"Daddy's not," You paused as you looked at him. How were you supposed to tell a child his father, the man he loved and looked up to, the man who was supposed to protect him and teach him how to protect himself, wasn't going to find him.

"Daddy's not going to find us baby." You said. Lucky's eyebrows furrowed tightly.

"What do you mean? Daddy always finds us." He said. You could hear the familiar buzz in your ears that happened whenever Kylo went on a rampage or Lucky threw a fit. The sound of the force in your son becoming angry.

"Daddy can't find us. Daddy's not coming back." You said. He didn't know death; you didn't know how to explain it.

"Daddy always comes back." Lucky said, more seriously now. The buzz was growing louder, you didn't know if you could handle a force tantrum right now. Kylo was always the one to calm him when he had a force tantrum. But Kylo wasn't here anymore, you were.

"Lucdall Ren listen to me." You said sternly. Your sudden change in demeanor shocked him out of the beginning of his tantrum, but only slightly.

"Daddy is not coming back. Some very bad people hurt daddy, very badly." You said. The buzzing in your ears subsided slightly and you let out a breath.

"Daddy can get better, can't he?" Lucky asked as his bottom lip started quivering again.

"Not this time baby. They hurt him too bad." You said. Lucky took a breath again, before leaning against your chest. You rubbed his back again and pressed your lips to the top of his head. His hair was covered in grease and sand. You glanced out the front window to see the planet Tatooine floating before you.

"I want to hurt them." You heard Lucky mumble. You pulled him back. His eyes had taken on an angry gleam, one you had seen in his father many times.

"I want to hurt the people who hurt daddy." He said. You heard a crackle in your ears and watched the toys on the floor begin to vibrate.

"No Lucky." You said, resting your palm against his cheek and pressing your forehead to his own. You waited for him to do what he'd done since he was a baby, open his mind to you and allow you to take away his anger. You were his mother, and you were hellbent on making sure your baby never hurt. Finally, Lucky gave in, revealing the anger and sadness that had been brewing in his mind since the downfall of the First Order. Since the two of you had woken one morning with Kylo missing and the First Order in shreds after the emperor’s fleet had been destroyed. You held it with you as Lucky fell asleep in your arms. It always took his energy to release his emotions, he would sleep for now. Long enough for you to finish what you had come here for.

You landed the ship on Tatooine as close to the old home of Luke Skywalker as you could without alerting the Scavenger. The nobody. You stood from your seat, dropping the rags that draped over you like a shawl and leaving only the tightly wrapped fabric secured by one of Kylo's old belts. His lightsaber attached to your hip, along with the daggers you'd stolen and bought as backups. You walked to where Lucky lay on the scratchy mattress, bent down, and placed a soft kiss on his temple.

"Sleep my prince, I'll return soon." You exited the ship, closing the hatch and approaching the settlement. She was force sensitive; you knew she could sense you as you approached. You had enough knowledge of the force to know that she could sense you. You watched as she appeared from the settlement, squinting into the sun. Her lightsaber on her own hip. You walked with purpose, the tails of your knee-length outfit whipping behind you as you did. 

She was the reason he was dead. The reason your son had to be raised without a father. The reason he was sleeping on a flat mattress on a junk ship rather than in his quarters on a star destroyer. She was the one that broke Kylo Ren, the one who killed Ben Solo, the one who destroyed your family. A smile broke her face as you approached.

"Hello, it’s been so long since I've had visitors. I'm Rey Skywalker, you are?" She said as you continued your approach. Her eyes flicked to the belt around your midsection, face falling as she recognized the lightsaber you drew and ignited.

"Allow me to introduce myself." You growled as you swung it at her. She ignited her own, blocking your rapid hits as you pushed her back further.

"I am (y/n) Ren, wife of Kylo Ren and Supreme Leader of the First Order." You said through gritted teeth. You pushed against her blade and lifted one leg, kicking her stomach and pushing her onto her back in the sand.

"Wife? I didn't think Ben was married." She said. There was that name, Ben. No. He was Kylo. You stood over her and raised Kylo's saber to drive it into her chest. She threw you off her with the force and you cursed as you landed and rolled to your feet, turning to face her and block her swing as your (h/c) hair whipped around your face. You used your other hand to grab one of the daggers on your other hip, preparing to throw it into her stomach when she used the force to throw the daggers from their place and bury them in the sand.

"He turned to the light on his own, he was good." She said. You growled and pushed back with Kylo's saber, catching her blade on the cross guard and pushing the tip into the ground. You kicked her in the head as she bent with her blade to avoid losing it and she stumbled backwards before lashing out with the force. She pinned your arms to your side as you thrashed against her hold.

"He was the strongest man in the galaxy, you ripped him away from me." You hissed. You could feel a crackling in your ears, and assumed it was from being pinned with the force. Rey stood form the ground, taking deep breaths.

"You're not force sensitive." She said breathlessly. You continued to struggle against her hold.

"(y/n), I don't want to kill you. Please, just go." Rey said. You could feel the force loosening its hold on you.

"I will not." You said as you broke free and charged her again. Rey lifted her saber to block your wild swings as you cried out in rage, stumbling when she pinned your red blade to the ground and threw an ill-timed kick to your back. You rolled over the lightsaber blades, landing down on one knee as Rey knocked the saber from your hand with the force.

"(y/n) I'm going to give you one last chance to run." Rey said. You lunged at her, dodging the saber blade and tackling her to the ground, knocking her own blade from her hand as you wrapped your arms around her midsection. She let out a groan as she connected with the ground.

"You ripped apart my family!" You yelled, pinning her to the ground with your knees on her hands and throwing hit after his to her face. She tried throwing you off, only for you to punch her harder.

"You are the reason we're alone!" You cried. Rey took a breath before throwing you off and rolling to her feet, spitting blood from her mouth.

"We?" She asked, using the force to summon her saber. You took a few deep breaths, scrabbling frantically for Kylo's saber. You couldn't lose it; you could not be unarmed.

"The First Order must die." She growled, wiping blood from her face and raising her saber.

"And it will die with you." She raised her saber, only to freeze with a gasp before dropping the saber.

"Mommy!" You heard Lucdall's voice. You turned to see him holding his fist towards the two of you, his hair flared around his head and his eyes a disturbing shade of yellow.

"Lucdall!" You cried, running towards him. He released his grip on Rey who fell to the ground clutching her throat and gasping.

"It's not possible," She breathed, looking to Lucdall in fear.

"He is, he can't be a force user." You scooped up your son in your arms, looking around frantically for Kylo's saber as you clutched Lucdall close. He wriggled in your grip as Rey stood and rubbed her throat. She retrieved the saber before approaching the two of you. You curled yourself around Lucky, holding him close while growling at Rey.

"If you come any closer, I'll kill you." You seethed. She looked on in pity, raising her saber to strike. You lowered your head and held Lucdall as he squirmed, before you heard two blades clashing. You looked up to see a glowing blue light holding Kylo's saber.

"Ben?" Rey asked. You looked up to see the shape of Kylo, as a force ghost, holding his own saber.

"You dare raise your hand to my wife?" He growled angrily. You looked on in disbelief as he pushed against Rey's saber harder.

"Dream of harming my child?" He shouted, swinging his blade and catching hers against the cross guard to twist it from her grip, he caught it in his other hand and flicked it on. 

"To use my family name against one of my own blood!" He cried, swinging the sabers towards her. She ducked and rolled away from him, scrambling in the sand for something. She continued backing away from Kylo. He was all grace, light on his feet and dancing through the sand as she slipped on her own clothes.

"Ben you were good!" Rey cried, digging in the sand once again as he approached her.

"A moment of weakness." Kylo growled, raising his own saber when Rey finally produced a bundle of cloth, ripping it open to reveal Luke and Leia's sabers. She ignited them both, standing to face Kylo. You watched the two face off, still holding Lucdall close. He had been trying to struggle out of your grasp since the moment Kylo appeared, recognizing his father’s voice.

"I want to see Daddy!" Lucky finally cried, causing Kylo to turn and face the two of you. Rey swiped at his midsection with the saber, having no effect on the ghost. Kylo turned to face her with anger in his eyes. He finally raised both sabers he held, kicking Rey down into the sand.

"You can't touch me." He said, crossing the sabers across her throat. She breathed out heavily as Kylo pulled the blades together, finally ending the Palpatine line forever. He let out a huff, dropping the scavengers saber next to her lifeless form, sheathing his own saber and turning to you and Lucdall.

As he approached, Lucdall suddenly grew shy, burying his face within your robes. Kylo knelt in the sand in front of you, watching quietly from a short distance. You stroked Lucdall’s back, feeling tears in your eyes as you looked upon the face of the man you loved. You smoothed your hand over Lucdall’s hair and gently pulled him away from your body, turning him to face Kylo.

"Hello little one." Kylo said softly to Lucdall. Lucdall glanced up to Kylo's smiling face before looking back to where Kylo sat in the sand, nothing being displaced by the ghost. 

"Daddy?" He asked, scooting forward slightly. Kylo grinned wider and nodded, sitting cross-legged in the sand. Lucdall stood from your lap, moving towards Kylo and reaching out a hand to touch his face. Lucdall hesitated before his hand connected with Kylo's face, and Kylo gently reached his hand to take his son's own. Lucdall looked down to see his hand through his father’s semi-transparent one.

"You've grown so big." Kylo said to Lucdall, voice wavering. Lucdall stepped closer to Kylo once more, leaning experimentally against his chest. Kylo wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close. You shuffled forward, running your hand over Kylo's bicep to feel fabric. You pulled back in surprise.

"How?" You asked. Force ghosts were not supposed to be able to touch things or interact with the world around them. Kylo opened one arm, pulling you against him and whispering in your ear.

"I don't have much time; I used the dark side to finish it. I won't be here much longer I just had to, I had to see you. To feel you, to hold him." He said, gripping the back of your outfit and burying his face in your neck as you brushed your fingers through his hair. You felt Kylo shaking and looked down to see him crying. Lucdall was crying as well, crying and clinging to his father's robes the way he would when he was young.

"Lucky," Kylo said softly when he pulled away from you. Lucdall looked up to meet his father’s eyes. Kylo lowered his forehead to press it against Lucdall's own before speaking. "my brave son. You are destined for greatness. Never forget your father loves you." He said, before releasing Lucdall from his grasp and guiding him towards you. He reached out to rest his hand against your cheek.

"And you, my beautiful beloved (y/n)," He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, "I will always protect you." Kylo said, before standing to his feet. He offered you his saber and you took it, reattaching it to your belt. You watched as Kylo turned his back to you walking into where the sun was setting before fading away with the dust. You felt tears slip from your eyes as you held Lucdall tighter.

"Come Lucky, it's time to go home." 

[nekumiko]

An Unrequited Love for the Books

Fandom: Akame ga Kill

Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Rated: T

Warnings: Major Character Death, Violence

Chapter: 1/?

Word count: 2128

In between the tall bookshelves, the sound of air being sliced echoes, before several thuds swiftly follow.

Booted feet confidently walk towards the interrupter of the sweet silence, stopping in front of a green-haired man whose ridiculously long coat is pinned to the ground by two of the many fatally-sharp tools he’d barely missed.

He looks up to find a bespectacled brunette in a frilly cream-colored dress and white apron staring him down, her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Ah!” he exclaims, pointing to her. “I told you to hide once someone sets the trap off!”

She giggles. “Mm-hmm, you sure did.” The girl then treads through the maze of slicers, choppers, and dicers stuck on the cement floor. “But I know what your footsteps sound like.” She reaches the free space between two knives dangerously close to the boy’s feet. She looks up and pokes his chest. “So I didn’t have to.”

“Aww, Layla-chan, that makes me blush.” His gaze on her finger raises to lock eyes with her.

As if the weight of the moment washes over her right then, Layla’s smile turns watery. “Lubba!” she whines before tackling him in a hug – eliciting a pained groan from the boy – and buries her face on his shoulder.

A soft smile overtakes Lubbock’s expression. He smooths her hair down and wraps his arms around her. “Yeah, I came back safe.”

Suddenly, Layla grips the collar of his coat tight and looks up at him. “Is that right?”

The coat slides off his shoulders. Lubbock’s eyes trail the girl’s small, warm hands snaking up his arms and then in his sleeves to reach his biceps, shoulders, underarms. Her hands then lift from his progressively-warm skin for a short moment before diving under his shirt to move up and down, left and right his torso.

He could only gulp. This body check is nothing new, but damn it, he could never get used to it.

After what seemed like hours, Layla steps back and dusts off her hands. “Okay. You’re clean.”

You try hard to keep a straight face every time, but I know… Lubbock smirks. “How can you be sure? You didn’t check the lower ha-“

“Oh, would you look at the time!” Layla spins on her heel and quickly steps over the knives to make her escape. He makes that comeback every time, and she never fails to blush at it. “It’s time for you to actually do some work around here!”

He snickers, bending down to remove the knives pinning his beloved coat. “Did she forget I’m technically her boss?”

“I can’t take a boss who gets caught in his own traps seriously,” she replies, her voice traveling among the bookshelves.

Lubbock whines childishly. “Could you at least help me out, though?”

“You’re on your own. I can’t see your strings, so I might set off the one holding that hatchet up there.”

Lubbock looks up at the deadly weapon remaining suspended right above him and laughs nervously. “So that’s what’s missing in here.”

“To think that you’d get killed not because of a mission, but because of your own traps.” A now-calm Layla pops back out of a nearby bookshelf, dramatically leaning on it and placing a hand on her forehead. “Oh, the tragedy!”

“Okay, cutie.” Lubbock chuckles as he drops the last of the knives in the pile beside him. He stands up and holds out his coat to her. “May I?”

Layla exchanges it with the neatly-folded apron she’d brought.

“How about you just help me reinstall these instead?”

“And let you stand under the ladder and look up my skirt?” Layla scoffs. “No, thanks.”

“It’s fair trade.” Lubbock grins suggestively as he ties his apron.

“What are you talking about? The only one who’d benefit from that is you again.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything when you check me.”

“Of course I do. I could feel your scrawny body.”

“Wha-? I may slack off in training, but I’m fairly muscular!” With one smooth movement, he closes their distance and gently captures her chin. “Proof? You can’t get your hands off me.”

She raises her arms to push him away, but that would mean touching his chest or shoulders. She quirks up an eyebrow upon seeing him smirk. “Lubba,” Layla says, dropping her hands back down to her sides and merely tilting her head away to break out of his hold. “Customers would be coming in soon. Do we really want them to see all these incriminating evidence of our ties to people whom society sees as dangerous?”

Lubbock laughs and fondly pokes her cheek. “Okay. I get it, boss.”

Since then, the whirring of strings from Cross Tail is the only one that resounds through the book shop. When Lubbock finally looks up at the girl, he finds her already sitting beside him on the cold floor, which he assumes is a subconscious decision.

The various ways the teenage boy could use his Imperial Arm never ceases to amaze Layla, so she takes every chance she could get to watch him tinker with it.

But behind her awed expression, Lubbock could discern hints of longing. So instead of jokingly chiding her for not returning to her post, he instead says, “Let’s go home together tonight.”

Layla startles at his voice. But as his words register, she instantly brightens up. “Okay!”

Now, Night Raid’s base lies 10 kilometers from the capital. Being a non-fighter, and therefore having lower stamina than the others, Layla dreads having to walk that far, especially after a long day of work. Until, of course, the oh-so-kind Lubbock would offer to carry her on piggyback the rest of the way. That’s what she delights in.

At the entrance, a young man carrying a Danger Beast he’d hunted stops to take a second look at them, his eyes growing as wide as dinner plates by the minute.

Confused, Lubbock raises a hand in a cautious wave. “Yo, Tatsumi.”

Tatsumi warily points to the girl still hanging off the green-haired guy’s back.

“Ah, Layla-chan, we’re here,” Lubbock softly says, thinking the girl is already asleep. But his lips almost brush her cheek when he turns to look at her.

A wide-awake Layla had been staring at Tatsumi since she’d spotted him from a distance, and so focused was she on the boy that Lubbock had to crouch down so her feet would touch the ground. Her gaze still fixed on Tatsumi, she bounds over to him and bows in greeting. “Hello, Tatsumi! I’m Layla!” She smiles and turns to the green-haired man stopping to stand beside her. “Lubba’s wife.”

Tatsumi looks at them back and forth before falling on his knees. “Master Lubba!” he cries, holding a thumbs-up. “Good job!”

Lubbock gives him a smug grin and wraps an arm around Layla’s shoulders. “We’ve been going strong for two years now, might I add.”

Suddenly, Tatsumi shoots up and points an accusing finger at Lubbock. “But why do you still try to peek on Neesan and talk perversely about girls?”

Layla gasps. “What? Do you mean… he still does that?”

“W-w-w-what are you saying, Tatsumi?” Lubbock’s voice rises in panic.

“Lubba, I…” Layla’s voice breaks. Then she covers her face and starts sobbing.

Lubbock stands behind the girl to rub her shoulders, laughing nervously. “Layla-chan, you don’t seriously believe this guy, right?” He glares at Tatsumi as he continues, “You trust me, your lifetime companion, more than a boy you just met, don’t you?”

Tatsumi splutters. “I… I didn’t mean to… I-“

“Don’t worry, Tatsumi.” A girl with flowing jet-black hair suddenly appears, with a Danger Beast even larger than Tatsumi’s catch on her back. “That’s just their cover in the Capital.”

Layla raises her face, no signs of crying in her expression at all. “Aww, Akame-chan, you’re no fun.”

Lubbock laughs. “Right? You’re really so gullible, Tatsumi.”

With a roar, Tatsumi rushes forward, barely missing Layla’s face, to grab Lubbock by the collar. The (fortunately) dead Danger Beast he’d caught lies forgotten on the ground. “You really get on my nerves sometimes!”

“Not my fault you’re so naïve!”

The front door opens to reveal a well-endowed blonde. “Oi,” she shouts, “what’s with all the noi- oh! Layla!”

“Neesan!” Layla runs towards her, arms outstretched.

The older woman squeals and meets her halfway. “I missed you so much!”

“Leone,” Akame says, “you’ve been together the other day.”

“But that was for only a short while! Lubba keeps her to himself a lot, but doesn’t even take care of her!” Leone then ruffles Layla’s hair, ruining her half-ponytail.

Layla looks up. “That’s not entirely tr—“

“It must have been lonely, huh?” Leone cuts Layla off by pressing the younger girl’s face deeper into her chest.

Tatsumi and Lubbock stop arguing to watch.

“So jealous…” Lubbock mutters.

Tatsumi does not say anything, but a blush tinges his cheeks.

Lubbock then turns to him to take hold of his collar too. “Oh, of course you’re not jealous because Neesan actually enjoys suffocating you with those boobs!”

Layla finally manages to break away from Leone and looks at the boys. “Shouldn’t we break them up?”

Leone shrugs. “Nah, let them be.” She then tugs Layla into the base. “Hurry and come inside instead! Boss arrived yesterday, so you should greet her next!”

The Boss. Layla purses her lips as she begins to get dragged along the hallways. So that explains why Lubbock had to stay an extra day in the base.

Leone suddenly slows down and matches her pace. “Hey,” she speaks softly now, “we all didn’t expect her to return yesterday. I’m sure Lubba didn’t mean to leave you alone for a while longer. You know how things work.”

“Huh? Oh no!” Layla laughs. “Come on, that doesn’t bother me at all! The longer I stay in the Capital, the more information I could gather, right? It’s just perfect that Boss is here. I could be useful right away.”

Leone nudges her shoulder. “You know you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything, Neesan.”

Information is essential in this line of work. And this is where Layla comes in handy. Despite choosing not to be an assassin herself – and because Lubbock is strongly opposed to the idea – she works as an informant for Night Raid. Being able to stay in the capital for longer periods of time allows her to collect updates and secrets the group could use. Though it feels nice to be useful, Layla’s information would also mean more dangerous missions for everyone. For Lubbock.

Sometimes, though, even if she doesn’t bring home information enough to formulate a mission, Najenda herself would get requests from the Revolutionary Army, and those are always considered urgent.

“Layla,” Lubbock softly calls, his reflection appearing behind the brunette standing in front of the window.

Layla stops biting her thumbnail and turns around in an instant. “Lubba.” She pouts.

“You know I can’t have you traveling alone to the Capital. Take a day off from work today.”

“And you know I am not worried about that.”

Lubbock smiles and opens his arms to invite her in, and she obliges. A promise to come back home is never uttered, because no one ever knows how a mission would turn out. Instead, he always says, “I’ll try my best.” And then he kisses the top of her head.

Layla looks up to smile back, and with her usual reply of, “Please,” she’d kiss his cheek.

As Lubbock follows Bulat, Sheele, and Mine out of the base, Layla watches them until she can’t see them anymore. When she turns around, she spies brown hair peeking out of a wall.

She giggles. “Come on out, Tatsumi.”

Tatsumi steps away from his hiding spot and laughs nervously.

Layla raises an eyebrow. “So?”

“Huh?”

“You want to ask something, don’t you?”

“Ah, well… you kind of confused me just now. Are you and Lubba actually…?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Layla waves her hands in front of her. “We’re just… um, really close friends.”

Tatsumi blinks. “I guess relationships in the Capital are really complicated.”

Oh, right. He’s not from the city. “Well, to put things simply, he basically saved my life. It just formed some sort of special attachment between us, but not in that way, okay?”

Tatsumi only frowns in thought.

“Besides…” she mutters, trailing off.

“Besides…?” Tatsumi prompts.

Layla startles, not expecting him to still be listening. “Nothing! You should go back in now, or else Akame-chan would actually kill you this time!”

At this, Tatsumi throws her a panicked thanks and rushes away.

Layla sighs and slides down the wall. “Besides, he’s already so deep in love with someone else.”

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

MJS Aftermath - The Return

This follows on from MJS Aftermath - Six Feet

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

<3 B

A knock at the door.

Knocks on the door are usually fairly innocuous.

And this one was punctuated by the excited barks of two puppy greyhounds named Kaga and Ishigami.

“Oh, come on you guys,” Miho complained, following the excited loping bounce of her dogs. “There is no need to bark at absolutely everything that approaches the house.”

Apparently, the puppies disagreed, and continued to bark as if a world full of murderers were congregated on the other side of the door.

“For fuck’s sake, Kaga,” she huffed, dancing to dodge the poochies underfoot. “Get out of the way!”

She was so preoccupied by not dropping the baby cradled against her chest, that she didn’t bother to check the intercom before pulling the door open.

He looked tired and his clothing was wrinkled, but upon first glance, Seiji Goto seemed to be in one piece.

For all of about two seconds before he was bowled over by both dogs, who had grown since their daddy had gone away.

As he fended off frantic tongues, whipping tails and excited butt wiggles, Miho remained standing just inside the doorway, staring at her husband as she bit down on her lower lip. Since their last and fleeting moments in the park months ago, she had not seen or heard from him, and now suddenly there he was without warning.

There were many things she wanted to say to him, to express the depth of her longing to have him back, the difficulty of maintaining the ruse when his own mother and father thought he was dead. But now, and he tucked a dog under each arm, and smiling got back to his feet, she couldn’t manage a single word.

“Ahh, I didn’t think I was gone that long,” were his first words, inclining his head toward the infant she held, but it totally didn’t compute.

“Huh?” she blinked finally.

“The baby?” he clarified, placing the dogs back down and moving closer to her.

“Oh uh, it’s not ours,” she declared, as if he actually thought it was, then managed to summon some emotion to the surface. “Ours is inside.”

“Wait, what?” Goto blurted, looking up and down her body.

“Not inside me, inside, inside,” she chortled, stepping aside to give him room to pass by.

Definitely confused, Goto grabbed his bag, and with it slung over his shoulder.

It was only as she passed where Jazz had put Mika’s baby bag down on the loungeroom couch, that Miho realised her company wasn’t expecting…

“Seiji?” Jazz gawped, frozen in the open glass doors that led to the small backyard, a squirmy little shiba inu puppy struggling to get out of her grip.

“Oh um… yeaaaah,” Miho stalled, trying to figure out the best way to handle the fact she’d not been able to tell even Jazz about Goto’s undercover investigation. “And before you ask, he’s not a zombie.”

“I… can honestly say I was not going to ask that,” Jazz managed.

“Why don’t you go put your bag in the bedroom,” Miho suggested, awkwardly. “Grab a shower?”

“Good idea,” he nodded, looking a little sympathetically between the two women before disappearing.

“Soooo, I have to tell you some things, since, obviously I can now and I couldn’t before even though I wanted to - gah you have no idea how much I wanted to - But Ishigami said it could jeopardise everything and put Seiji at greater risk and so - it was so hard to keep this from you!”

Wringing her hands, the guilt was written all over her face.

Slowly, watching the bedroom door like she expected Ghosto to come floating back out rattling chains or something, Jazz moved into the loungeroom and sat on the couch, the puppy continuing his battle.

Following suit, Miho then continued to blurt out the circumstances of Goto’s death without going into any police details, and how she had come to discover the truth about just how deep his undercover operation had gone. There was a lot of apologising, begging even, but once Jazz overcame the shock of seeing a friend return from the dead, she was quick to assure Miho there were no hard feelings.

“Tell me though,” she grunted, wincing a little as the puppy bit her finger. “Do all your husbands rise from the grave?”

“Umm,” Miho murmured.

“I mean, are you keeping other secrets? Like you’re a necromancer or some kind of voodoo priestess?”

“No other secrets, I promise,” Miho laughed, clearly relieved, glancing to the bedroom door for the hundredth time, gnawing the inside of her cheek.

“This must have been really hard on you,” Jazz frowned, finally putting the puppy on the floor, where he promptly prepared to pounce Kaga who was curled up on the rug. “Keeping this to yourself, pretending.”

“It was,” Miho agreed. “But not as tough as actually putting him in the ground.”

Again she paid the bedroom door some attention, and Jazz got to her feet and reached down to take her daughter.

“Okay, well, I imagine you’ve got some - ahem - catching up to do,” Jazz smirked, lightly bumping Miho’s foot with her own. “So I’ll get going, but I expect there to be some kind of resurrection party in the not too distant future.”

“No doubt,” Miho grinned, and followed Jazz to the front door, handing her the baby bag at the last minute.

“And I’m going to want all the juicy reunion details,” Jazz added, widening Miho’s smile.

But as soon as Jazz was gone, and the door was closed, Miho’s cheeks fell and an all too familiar anxiety began to twist in her stomach.

She was nearly oblivious to Ishigami who walked in slow step with her, didn’t notice the way he looked up at her with concern as she tentatively headed toward the bedroom. There was no soft hiss of water, and it cut slashes of doubt that she’d just imagined everything, that when she reached the bedroom, her husband would not be there.

Swallowing, she crossed the threshold, expecting emptiness like all the other times she’d come home in the last few months - but there was a man standing in front of the wardrobe with his back to her in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, his hair still damp.

All those words again stuck in her throat, and her eyes burned unlike any other time she had cried before.

It was a gasping sob that made him stop feretting around for a shirt and turn to see his wife overwhelmed - her shoulders slumped from exhaustion, face a mural of relief and joy and a resurgence of all the pain she’d felt in his absence.

“My love,” he said, the resonating warmth in his voice chipped away the very last of Miho’s armour.

When she fell against his chest, he locked his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

“I missed you so much,” he exhaled, then filled his lungs with her. “And I’m so sorry I put you through this.”

Usually articulate and unreserved in expressing herself, Miho still could not verbally reply.

“I love you,” he declared honestly, sliding his hands up her back and taking her head between them. “I love you.”

The only way she could manage a response, was to fiercely claim his lips - desperately parched in the desert, finally finding life-living water.

And in that kiss they conversed in a way only soulmates could, in reaffirmation of all the promises they’d shared and all that would be shared in the future.

What began in tenderness, however, became far more visceral when Miho pulled Goto to the bed and dragged him down on top of her. She knew every contour of his body by memory, but her fingertips searched anew, discovering each muscle, each blemish and scar with invigorated  relish.

Eagerly, Goto pulled at her clothing - even the thinnest of barriers between them was too much when the distance between them had stretched so far for so long.

Then he let out a sharp yelp and rolled to the side to look down.

Ishigami and Kaga had entered the room at some point and silently flopped onto their beds, but the little shiba inu was snapping at Goto’s ankles and making a big show of how tough she was.

“And who exactly is this?” he laughed, swooping on the furious fluff and dropping it on the bed next to Miho.

“Our baby,” Miho answered, scooching up to her pillow and relaxing, all urgency lost to the euphoria of having more than dogs on her bed. “Her name is Mochi.”

“I was going to guess Soma,” Goto nodded, lying on his side and offering the puppy his hand to sniff. “Ishigami and Kaga weren’t enough?”

“It was Kurosawa,” Miho sighed, watching blissfully as Puchi pounced on Goto’s hand and began to gnaw on his thumb. “He thought, or, thinks you’re dead so - he wanted to cheer me up.”

“I should have known,” Goto chuckled. “He’s the only person I know whose go-to present is puppies.”

“So, he knows now, right?” Miho probed, her eyes fixed on Goto’s face, the soft expression he made as he played with the pup. “And the others?”

“Not yet,” he answered, rolling Mochi onto her back and scritching up and down her belly - much to the jealousy of Ishigami and Kaga who leapt up to join the rest of the family. “I debriefed with Captain Ishigami out of the office then got clearance to come straight home. He understood.”

“Or maybe feared Liana would be angry if he kept you from me any longer,” Miho offered, snuggling Kaga up against her, while Ishigami sat against Goto’s legs. “Other than Ishigami and Namba, she’s the only other person who knew.”

For several minutes, the only sounds were Mochi’s irresistibly cute growls as she fought her battle with the hand monster.

“Captain Ishigami will brief my colleagues tomorrow morning, then I’ll head to the Academy.”

“What about your family?” Miho asked quietly, flicking one of Kaga’s ears back and forth.

“I was hoping my wife would help me face them,” he smiled hopefully. “They’ll receive an official letter, then I thought we could invite them here for a short stay before…”

If he said, ‘before I go back to work’, Miho knew she was going to cry again.

“... before you and I go somewhere,” he finished, moving closer to Miho though there were three dogs sandwiched between, one of them now trying to stick her tongue in his nostrils. “I have a considerable amount of vacation time owing, and I just want to bask in your presence for every minute of every day and night until you’re sick of me.”

“So never? You have that much vacation time?” Miho posed, rolling off the bed to stand, and continuing to undress.

“I guess I could retire,” he mused, watching her drop each item of clothing onto the floor, even though she was not making a particular show of it. “You could be the breadwinner, and I’ll stay at home , cook, clean and raise our furbabies.”

Miho laughed, finally tossing her panties at him and coiling her hair up into a bun.

“You’ve improved since I’ve met you, Seijo Goto, but you’re a far better cop than you are a cook.”

“And where do you think you’re going dressed like that?” he frowned seriously when she moved toward the entrance to the ensuite.

“I like to masturbate before going to bed,” she announced airily. “In the shower after a long day, imagining myself pinned to the cold tiles with you pressing into me.”

“Imagine no longer,” he grinned, pushing all poochies aside to follow her into the bathroom.

[thatcrazysonicchick]

Come back to Me, a FanFiction by That Crazy Sonic  Chick

~ Act III  ~

Amy, 19

Tails, 16

Knuckles, 23

“Three chili dogs, please.” Tails said, sliding the cashier a ten dollar bill. The cat behind the counter handed him his receipt and they made their way to a booth nearby to wait.

“How do you think it looks right now?” Knuckles asked, sliding in, making room for Amy.

“It looks good,” Tails said, taking a seat across from Amy. “You can tell people keep up with it.”

“For now. Just wait. A few years down the road, it’ll be ready to come down.” Knuckles said, with a hint of annoyance. Amy set her purse in front of her, propping her elbows on the table.

“That’s not gonna happen. If people aren’t going to do their job as land keepers, we’ll do it ourselves.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Tails said. “That’ll never happen. It’s Sonic’s memorial we’re talking about here.”

“So, what’s going on for Cream’s birthday?” Knuckles asked, changing the subject.

“Vanilla’s throwing her a surprise party.” Amy answered, digging her phone out of her purse.

“Keyword, surprise, Knuckles.” Tails said, giving him a warning look. “So don’t blow it. Or else we’re not even going to tell you about the next surprise party we plan.” Amy laughed.

“I have no idea what to get her, though.” Amy said, checking her phone for any updates from Rouge, to check in with her and Nikki. “She’s usually pretty easy to shop for, but I want to get her something special this year.”

“It’s not easy shopping for someone who’s birthday is so close to Christmas.” Tails said, looking over at the counter. “What did you get her last year?”

“Sonic and I got her some shoes that Vanilla had trouble finding. I asked Vanilla for suggestions, but Cream doesn’t even know what she wants for Christmas, let alone her birthday.”

“She’s changed a lot in the last few years. You’d think she’d be ecstatic over a tea set or flower pot.” Knuckles said.

“Vanilla said she hasn’t been the same since… well, last year. She’s still cheery and sweet, but it isn’t as, well-”

“Often?” Amy finished. Tails nodded. “Cream gets emotional once in a while. She only lets herself show it after she’s not around us.”

“Well,” Knuckles said, leaning back in his seat. “It’s nowhere near the same with Sonic not here anymore.”

“I know how she feels.” Amy said. “ We all do. That’s why we need to be there for her, and show her we’re all here for her, and each other. That’s why Vanilla thinks throwing a surprise party will lighten her mood up.”

“Order number 21!” Tails looked up at the counter.

“That’s us.” Tails said, sliding out of the bench. The three got up to claim their lunch.

“Here you go, Tails, Knuckles, Amy.” The three looked at the owl handing them their food. She didn’t look familiar and they were in the area all the time. The heroes were surprised to be acknowledged by a stranger. The woman noticed, and immediately apologized. “Oh, Heavens, I’m sorry. I just recognized you three. Sorry if I seemed disrespec-”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Tails reassured. “We were just caught off guard. Have a good day!” He said with a smile, and the friends began to walk towards the exit.

“Did she look familiar?” Amy asked. Tails shook his head, and Knuckles shrugged.

“Maybe she just has one of those faces.” Knuckles said, reaching for the door. Amy looked once more over her shoulder, but then shrugged it off and began to walk to the park.

~    ~    ~

The sound of snow crunching under their feet filled the silence as a bench came into view. The three approached the bronze statue, faced the front, and took a seat.

“There he is.” Tails announced, reaching in the bag and distributing the chili dogs. Each took one in their hands and began to unwrap. They sat there, enjoying their lunch, and the sight of Sonic smiling, giving his trademark thumbs up. Seeing his constructed figure, it wasn’t the same as seeing Sonic himself, but it did bring a hint of joy and comfort to anyone who saw it. Amy sighed, and Knuckles leaned back against the bench, resting his arm over the back, behind Amy.

“Looks pretty good to me,” Tails said. “Glad to see people are staying on top of maintenance.”

“He still looks handsome…” Amy thought out loud. The two boys outside of her chuckled and her free hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, jeez. Did I say that out loud?” The two laughed some more, and she blushed, but didn’t hide it as she giggled with them.

“It’s okay, Amy.” Knuckles said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hearing it a few more times.”

“More like a couple hundred-thousand.” Tails added. “Chaos knows his ego had no limit.” The three laughed at the honest fact. Silence fell again. Then Amy spoke up.

“What would you say to him?” The two turned their heads towards her, questioning her statement.

“Huh?” Knuckles asked, a mouthful of chili and cheese in his mouth.

“If he could hear you, right now. What would you say?” The two thought about it.

“I’d tell him we miss him. A lot.” Tails said. “And that we think about him everyday.”

“And that the chili dogs aren’t the same anymore,” Knuckles joked, raising his half eaten chili dog. “Y’know, to make him feel better.” He looked at his food, then back at the memorial. “Unless he’s up there, eating one as we speak.”

“How about you?” Tails asked, resting his elbows on his legs, leaning forward with his wrists crossed. Amy thought about this, then looked up at her late husband’s statue figure.

“I’d tell him I love and miss him, of course.” She answered, then paused. “And I’d tell him about his daughter. How she has his eyes, and his personality. She has his stubborn, sassy attitude. But she also has his courage and confidence. She’s already starting to stand up on her own. Won’t be long before she’s walking..” Tails’ eyes went wide. He swallowed the last bite, and spoke, spitting a drop of chili out.

“For real? She’s only what, six months old?”

“Eight.” She corrected. “She’ll be nine months on Saturday.” Tails shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s Sonic’s kid. Gotta grow fast.” The three laughed. Knuckles commented. “...Do you think she’ll have his speed?”

“Part of me really wants her to, but another part of me is hoping she won’t be doing anything too dangerous.” Amy said, a serious look on her face. “I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“Well, she’s got a fifty percent chance of inheriting Sonic’s speed.” Tails informed. “And don’t worry, Amy. This is Sonic’s child. She’s gonna be reckless, but she’s also going to be brave, and capable of taking care of herself.”

“Yeah. And for the record,” Knuckles said, wrapping Amy in a one armed hug. “She didn’t get her confidence from just Sonic.” He pointed to her heart. “There’s half of you in there too.”

“I know, but… ugh, she’s just so much like him! Everytime I look at her, I see him. I just wish he knew what she was like, what we’re like. I just wish I could tell him!” She ranted. Silence struck once more. All three looked at the ground, their minds flooding with thoughts. Knuckles looked up, then at Amy.

“So tell him.” Amy looked at the red echidna with wet eyes.

“What?”

“Talk to Sonic. Tell him about his daughter, about you. Everything you want him to know.”

“Why? He can’t even hear us.” Amy pouted. “It’s a statue.”

“You never know, Amy.” Tails chimed in. “Ask yourself this… What would Sonic want you to do?” This hit home for Amy. She thought about it, and with hesitance, she made her decision.

“Okay… uh… Hi, Sonic. I miss you. We all do… and… uh…” She thought some more. “Nikki is, uh…” she groaned and threw her hands in front of her. “I’m literally talking to a statue.” Knuckles slapped his hand on his knee taking a deep breath, leaning forward and squeezing Amy in another one armed hug.

“What your wife is trying to say, Sonic, is that we’re all good down here. Yeah, things are tough, but so is your family. Your daughter is beautiful, and you would be so damn proud of your girls. Because me, Tails, and the rest of us sure as hell are. We miss you man, things aren’t the same here without you, but we’re taking care of each other, like one big family. I’d assume you’d be proud of us, Sonic. And we’re proud of you. You died being a hero, and I like to think we’re carrying your name with us.” Knuckles paused, seeming caught up in the moment. He looked over as Tails cleared his throat, before adding on,

“... Sonic… you’re my best friend. You always were, and you always will be. I… I miss you, and… none of this feels real. This wasn’t supposed to happen! You-” He cut himself off, trying to hold back tears. “I… I…”

“Tails…?” Amy asked softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. The teenage fox balled his fist and lowered his head, clenching his jaw. He let a low rumble come out of his throat, and gave up on keeping it all in.

“I can’t do this!” He cried. He hunched over, holding the back of his head with his hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Instinctively, Amy wrapped her arms around him, letting her own tears run.

Knuckles looked over to his mourning friends, his own heart heavy with sorrow. He stood up, brought himself in front of the bench, and knelt down before his friends with open arms. The three came together, holding each other, crying over their lost friend. They stayed that way for a while until Knuckles pulled away, with red, wet eyes and grim expression. Amy slightly sat up, dabbing her eyes with her sleeve as Tails leaned on her shoulder, half asleep. She held out the keys to her car for Knuckles who simply nodded, taking them and going to retrieve their transportation. The two sat there, holding each other. Tails sniffed softly, looking up at her with heavy eyes.

“Thanks, Amy,” he spoke softly. “I really needed that.” She looked down at her little brother-in-law with a warm and sweet smile.

“I think we all did. Even Knuckles. And I think we both can agree he needed it more than he’ll admit.” Tails chuckled, and sunk into her arms even more, Amy resting her head on his, rubbing her thumb over his shoulder. She gave him one last firm but comforting hug before they rose up from their seat and walked to the car, looking back at the memorial behind them, and drove off.

As soon as the car was out of sight, a not-so-familiar face appeared from behind a nearby tree. She held a hand to her pendant, looking off into where the car was last seen. She approached the statue and looked down at the plaque mounted onto the base. It read:

Sonic the Hedgehog

June 21, 1991 - December 12th, 2011

“Fastest Thing Alive”

Beloved Friend, Brother, Son, Husband, Father, and Hero of Mobius

May his legacy be carried on, and may he Rest in Peace.

The world forever be in his debt.

She smiled, looking up at the lost hero’s face.

“It’s time.” Her amulet glowed, it’s aura shining brighter than the freshly fallen snow. And in an instant, she was engulfed by the light and vanished, leaving not a single disturbed snowflake.

[inviouswriting]

Heat

For @finalfantasyxivwritings​ ‘s wonderous tails. 

My prompting for this story is Alpha/Omega going into heat.

Kiya x Aymeric. The story takes place in their honeymoon pilgrimage, and Kiya ends up in her first heat cycle.

Alpha/Omega going into heat.

 Kiya feels it when she wakes up, she is nestled into Aymeric’s arms, they had spent the previous night together, but when she woke up she ached. She was aware that once she became sexually active it was a matter of time before a heat cycle would begin. She just didn’t expect it to hit her while in the middle of their honeymoon excursion.

They have been traveling through Limsa Lominsa, greeting Merylweb before they would travel towards Bronze Lake. They had spent the night at the inn, after a night of drinks in the Drowning Wench, Kiya had never seen Aymeric look so free than enjoying the merriment with dance and pulling her along. They retreated to their room for privacy.

Kiya tugs Aymeric’s hands off her, he reaches for her to pull her back into his arms. He does that when he is too comfortable. Kiya smiles and gives him her pillow to cuddle into for now. He looks so inviting for her, but she must take care of her body. Slipping to the washroom attached.

Kiya sighs as her thighs ache, her whole body feels on fire, and part of her wants to climb on top of Aymeric. Kiya sighs as she starts the water for a bath, her hands go to her thighs and squeezes. She bites back a pained moan, as her fingers work their way to touch herself. She sits down on the side of the bathtub and keeps her back to the door.

The heat she feels is intense, she flattens her ears to her head and grimaces as her fingers bury themselves into her body, frowning that they don’t reach as deep as Aymeric’s. She was letting him sleep, she finally lets out sighed moans moving to kneel and press her front to the cold floor. Finding it relieving her heated flesh even a little bit.

Aymeric had been awake for a while and missed seeing his wife’s face when he opened his eyes. She was off to him, and he figured out why when he hears the water, but the sighs he can hear, his hearing a bit more acute. He hears her pleasured sighs, and moans. He almost feels a little disheartened that she didn’t wake him.

Aymeric opens the door to the bathroom quietly and sees his beloved on her knees trying to relieve herself. He sees her face, eyes closed and tail twitching in a different manner with her touching herself. He watches as she sinks her fingers in and moves from the door to aid her. He presses a hand to the center of her back and follows her spine down to her tail. He gently tugs it ignoring the jolt she makes.

“Aymeric! I… I hope I didn’t wake you.” Kiya feels flustered that he sees her in such a state, serene blue eyes regard her as he flips her onto her back, he also reaches into the bath to stop the water from overflowing.

“I wish you did wake me though. Seems you are having fun by yourself.” Aymeric traces her fingers where they’re buried in her, he tugs her hand to remove them and replaces them with his own. His eyes widen at feeling how hot she is, he looks at her in question.

“Kiya? Are you?” He asks, he knows that there is a heat cycle, he just never knew when she would have them.

“In heat… yes…” Aymeric’s eyes soften more, and he buries his fingers inside sinking two in. She is very hot on his fingers, and he hears her sigh his name.

“Kiya, let me know these things so I can help you. I am your husband now.” He reminds her as his fingers pump gently, earning her moans louder, hearing a hint of pain to them, he feels her walls twitch around his fingers. He wonders if she is in pain with her cycles.

“I know, I thought I could ebb it out while you slept.” Kiya is met with one of his stares, heated but reverent.

“My love, if you are aching, wake me so I can attend to you. Now, can you tell me how I can help you?” Aymeric is already parting her legs to fit between them, seeing her play with herself, made him want her.

“Just love me till I can’t walk.” Kiya feels hot when Aymeric guides himself into her at her words. She lifts her hips and bites her bottom lip when she feels him stretching her. Her hands going to his hands to hold them as she feels him settle himself deep. Aymeric lets a sigh escape him, not realizing how hot she is inside, he knows these cycles can yield children, the idea excites him that the possibility of her having his. How would they turn out, would they show their mix, or be more like their dominant parent elezen or miqo’te.

Aymeric pulls his hips back only to push back in deep and slow. He locks gazes with her, and smiles seeing her face lit in pleasure. He eases into a rhythm with her, pulling his hips back then rolling them back to hers. He draws sighs from her and moans, their hands locked together, fingers laced as he presses her hands next to her head. Kiya holds his stare and feels the reaction of his slow and teasing pace.

Aymeric leans down and claims her lips in a full kiss, he picks up the movements and starts to thrust hard into her. Kiya cries underneath him in pained heated moans. Aymeric almost wonders if he is hurting her, till he hears a high pleasured moan, and feels nails in his back. A groan comes from him, and understands the pained moans is from the heat.

Kiya arches up underneath him as she does; he thrusts just right, and the head of his penis hits her cervix making her shake in his arms and cry out in pleasure louder. Aymeric looks at her face and angles himself to repeat that, earning her shuddering underneath him in bliss.

Aymeric places his hands on her hips and angles them enough to keep hitting that spot inside her, each thrust against her womb makes her shudder and shiver in pleasure till her legs do nothing but shake. She is close, and she can feel Aymeric work her into a frenzy. Kiya writhes under him, her hands find his arms and hold onto them as a gush of fluid comes from her. Her orgasm is hard and messy. She feels Aymeric follow with a few more thrusts and she feels hot warmth spilled inside her.

Arms wind around her and pulls her close to Aymeric’s body, he works with her body to bury himself deeper. He grinds against her still feeling her hot, trying to draw her into another round, he feels her legs wrap more at his waist. Kiya is far from done, and he is only getting started.

If she is in heat, then he will do everything to bring her down from it. He works with her and lifts her into him, Aymeric hears every sound that escapes her, that needy sigh that emits. He places another full kiss to distract her as he works his thrusts to make her feel good. Hands toying with breasts, or one going down to find the nub and rub it with his movements.

Kiya feels him go harder again, Aymeric feels her around him, and sees the effect of him working on her. Her eyes glazed over in bliss. Her arms winding around his neck as she pants in pleasure. She is turned on now and happy in their lovemaking compared to that semi pained expression he saw.

“Does it hurt?” Aymeric nuzzles her face with his, and feels her kiss his cheek.

“It aches more than hurts. It only hurts if I ignore it. It’s like…  a woman’s monthly but for me it is different. This is my first official cycle that could… yield children.” She blushes bashful at the last part of her words. Aymeric smiles down at her and claims her lips before he speaks.

“Then I will do my part to take care of you in these moments. If you need me I will tend to you.” Aymeric lifts her hips into harder thrusts he makes. Kiya starts to cry out underneath him in such a way, he wonders if others will hear her voice through the walls. Aymeric lifts her into his lap and moves her hips with his, grinding hers with his on every few thrusts.

Kiya feels absolute bliss with the new position, and the ache she feels is still there. Aymeric centers his thrusts to be as deep as he can get. Kiya watches his face lit up in his own pleasure, ice blue eyes locking with hers, half lidded. His mouth parted in his own pants and his skin glossy in sweat with hers. He is a vision to behold just as she is to him. Milky white skin damp, black hair with blue ends sticking to her, and heated emerald green eyes locked with his, mouth parted in cries.

Aymeric reaches a hand down behind her and tugs her tail, gentle but firm. A spot he had found during their experimenting. Kiya grounds her hips to his and cries out louder, her voice rising in pitch as he presses on every hot spot he knows. Lips finding her left ear and tugs it with his teeth. His thrusts hard enough to bounce her just right finding that one spot inside that makes her see stars. Hand teasing her clit and the other pulling her tail even stroking it at the base where skin meets fur.

The next orgasm she has is more powerful than her earlier, Kiya’s voice louder than he has heard her in a while as her body seizes up. He feels tight heat around him and another gush against his lap, powering his own to push deep and fill her full. Both of them in pleased moans, Aymeric lifting her head to kiss her deeply.

Kiya returns the kiss, and feels her body shaking from her orgasm, her legs shudder, and hands shivering from aftershocks. Her sighed sobs in between the kiss. Aymeric smiles into the kiss knowing he has pleased her well.

“Was I good to you my love?” He murmurs into an ear, Kiya nods and rests her head against his chest panting. She wriggles against him, and looks up at him with a stare he knows. She’s uncomfortable, and he kisses her again then lifts her to pull out. One of his hands goes down to rub around her folds not to please her but to massage where she had been stretched by him.

“Always amazing Aymeric. I think that made me feel a bit better. But I should let you know, I will be feeling it again later..” She informs him, knowing she’ll need him most of the day.

“Should we postpone our traveling for a day then? Make use of here for another night? I can spend my time to make sure you are well cared for.” As he speaks to her, his fingers tease along her folds now. Just enough for her to feel them and him to get a blush out of her.

“I think that would be wise. I don’t feel inclined to wear clothes today.” She tells him.

“I don’t think I am either. Now… shall we use this water before it gets cold?” He lifts her up with him to step into the lukewarm water of the bath she drew. Kiya nods and fits into his arms. She feels that sensation of him pushing fingers into her as she sits in his lap.

“Again?” He asks, already helping her hover her hips over his. She nods, and feels him push her hips down on his. Kiya sighs into his shoulder this round being more loving, more gentle. Aymeric places kisses on her shoulder till he reaches her light blue painted lips and kisses her deep.

He loves her in a bath he can take his time, use the water to his advantage, and make it romantic. Each kiss he gives her is a small peck, enough to make her seek his kisses. The slow movements with him guiding her down onto him. She loves it when he is tender with her. Kiya parts from the kiss and he trails his tongue from her lips down her neck.

Kiya feels him hold her hips down on his and grind her against him. The motion makes her head spin, she feels so loved by him. Aymeric kisses his way up the side of her face till his lips are next to an ear.

“Feeling good?” He can see her face lit with love more than pleasure, he lavishes her in this kind of attention, and she can never get enough when he is like this. Kiya nods and looks away from the intensity of his icy gaze. Aymeric turns her head back to his.

“Look at me.” Kiya does, and as she locks eyes, he moves his hips against hers. She makes an embarrassing moan almost like a mewl, and watches as his eyes lower a bit. Kiya buries her face from the sound she made, and Aymeric chuckles. He is tugging her hands away from her face.

“You sound so cute. Let me see you. Let me hear you.” Aymeric holds her stare when she returns her eyes to his. A warm smile is given to her, a loving look in his eyes as he places his hands back into the water to guide her with his movements again. She wants to look away from his intense eyes, even as she lets another mewled moan escape.

He is loving her instead of just helping her through a cycle. Her own hands go down to be over the top of his. Kiya brings his hands to her hips and has her squeeze while she rolls her hips to meet his gentle thrusts. The shorter paced ones make her feel better. Not the punishing hard ones he used earlier to break the fog of her heat. Aymeric slips his hands out of hers to ghost them up her back and hold her to him. Kiya loops her arms around him and rests her head against his shoulder.

Kiya is still sensitive from the earlier orgasms to where she reaches another without much warning. A breathed sigh and moan in his ear. He feels her tight for a few moments and he buries deep till his seed leaves him and into her.

They are careful to not make a mess of the bath, the softer movements to prevent splashing. Aymeric holds her and rubs her back with his hands. Kiya breathes hard against his neck. She sighs when he pulls from her and helps arrange her to fit in his arms. Her back to his chest, legs propped up with his knees and head under his chin as he rests it on her head. Arms wound around her. Now he is content, and Kiya feels at ease.

“Better?” He asks.

“Much.” She answers.

“Full glad am I.” Aymeric feels at ease knowing he took care of her. Now he just wants to feel her against him.

Kiya smiles and lifts a hand out of the water. She notes she is still shaking a bit, Aymeric grabs her hand and laces his fingers with hers on her outstretched hand. He brings her hand to his face where he litters kisses over her fingers.

His last kiss ends on her wedding band.

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Kong: Skull Island- Rescued

Pairing: Reg Slivko x Irene Brown

James Conrad x Irene Brown (brother-sister relationship)

Jack Chapman x Irene Brown (brother-sister relationship)

Summary: They make it to the ploat, and now they have to make it to the exfil location

Warnings: cursing, screaming, wounds, etc

Word Count: 2392

“Come on!” James called as he ran to the ploat, pulling me with him.

San was steering, and she brought the ploat closer to us.

“Come on, hurry!” She beckoned.

“Slivko first!” James shouted, pointing.

Jack jumped up to help Reg up, then Hank was on. Jack helped Reg lean against the frame before giving me his hand. I hoisted myself up, groaning. I felt dizzy again. Reles and Mills climbed on after me, and I looked to James expectantly. The machine gun stopped and Houston shouted. My eyes went wide, meeting James’s.

“Marlow, a little help here!” Houston called.

“I got it, she’s temperamental, watch out!” Hank pushed him out of the way, taking over.

The Skull Crawler got closer as Kong pulled himself up slowly. James was still in the water, eyes trained on the scene before us.

“Jay!” I cried, feeling my bones ache.

Another explosion went off, and I looked over to see the Skull Crawler with a flare in its eye. My smile lasted for a split second, wiped away as the Skull Crawler looked to where Mason stood. Hank got the gun working again, and everyone but me was shooting at the Skull Crawler. I watched with tears in my eyes as James turned and ran the other way.

“Irene, don’t!” Reg shouted over the gunfire.

I sniffled as I loaded my bow and shot rather aimlessly at the Skull Crawler. It turned its head and then its direction entirely. I followed its line of sight.

“James!” I let out a scream, then a sob.

Jack grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me to him, trying to calm me down. Everything within me itched to follow my brother out there. The Skull Crawler went down, taking a propeller to the back. Kong was on his feet again. The Skull Crawler screeched as Kong wrapped the chain around its neck, choking it. It broke free but Kong grabbed it by the tail, body slamming it into a mountainside.

We watched breathlessly as Mason fell down its side. James sprinted to her, screaming her name. She landed in water, but she didn’t come back up. The tears strolled down my cheeks again. Kong turned, eyes almost human with concern. The Skull Crawler lunged at him, grabbing him by the neck with its teeth. He slammed it off and they continued their fight. I cried as James was out of my sight and Kong sliced the Skull Crawler’s throat open with the propeller.

I watched as he moved to where Mason had fallen, carefully dipping his hand in the water and coming back up with Mason in his palm. She wasn’t moving. He let out a chuff. He went back down, and I saw the Skull Crawler on his arm.

“What the hell?” Reg shouted and I felt my heart drop for the third time in the last minute.

I moved to him, pushing my head into his chest and wishing the world would stop. He winced but wrapped an arm around me, breathing heavily. His chest rumbled as he cursed loudly, gasping. I looked over to see Kong’s hand (including Mason) now halfway down the Skull Crawler’s throat. My own throat went dry. Kong tugged back, but it was no use. He finally grabbed the Skull Crawler by the neck and pulled his other hand back, tongue and internal organs following. He slowly turned and opened his palm on the ground, easing her off of his hand. James popped back into sight as he reached her, shaking her and picking her up so she could cough up water. They held each other as Kong looked at them before walking away.

Reg’s pained grunt brought me back to reality and he sunk the floor of the ploat, gritting his teeth. I dropped next to him, ignoring the pain that shot through my arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“It burns.” He mumbled, hands going for the blood-soaked bandana.

“You shouldn’t take it off.” I grabbed at his wrists.

He met my worried gaze before shutting his eyes and pushing his head into my chest and sighing.

“We have to get him out of here, now.” I spoke to Hank, who was the only one without tears in his eyes.

He nodded. “Let’s go.”

                                                            ***

James was steering the ploat toward the exfil location. San and Mason rewrapped Reg’s leg with Jack’s other sleeve while I held his hands, his head rested back against my chest. We stayed like that, stretched out as the ploat moved. Hank was off to our side, looking at the picture of his wife.

We were silent, some of us crying while others stared blankly. I tried to block my mind off as I felt Reg’s back move with his breathing. Over the last five or six days I had almost died at least three times. I had gotten separated from my brothers at least twice. I had seen people I thought were dead, alive. I had seen people get eaten. I had watched a man get his arm torn off. I had thought about things from my childhood that I had buried inside. I had put my crossbow up to my brother’s face.

I heard a few clicks as Mason fiddled with her camera. I looked over to see James moving his head side to side softly. I saw Jack writing something in his notepad. Hank was still looking at the picture of his wife. Reg breathed deeply in front of me, closing his eyes as he settled back against my chest.

Over the last five or six days, I had also expanded what I considered family. I had met a woman to lead me the way I had needed since I was born. I had been reunited with the boy turned man who I had trusted with my life and my little brother’s life. I had met two guys a few years older than me who showed me what being brave actually was. I had used my crossbow flawlessly. I fell in what felt like love with a boy. I had combed my fingers through soft brown hair more times than I could count.

“Irene?” Reg’s voice was scratchy.

I brushed his hair back with my free hand. “What is it?”

“Cole gave you something, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. I think it was a picture.” My voice trembled as I remembered what Cole had told me.

I was afraid to look, afraid the picture would be related to it, afraid to face my fears. Reg picked up on this, because he squeezed my hand and craned his neck back to look at me.

“Are you okay, doll?”

I let my head fall back against the frame of the ploat as I sighed.

“I’ll be fine.”

The sky was clear now, sun shining as it would at the beach. I grunted as my arm throbbed momentarily. Houston had an arm around San, reassuring her with whispers in her ear. Reles and Mills had sat on top of the ploat, both quiet. Mason was trying to fix her camera, which had been slightly smashed and fully submerged.

“This place will change.” James spoke up, breaking the calm silence that had settled over all of us. “Word will get out. It always does.” He looked to Mason.

“Well, it’s not coming from us.” Mason sent a small smile back.

My brother smiled back before eyeing me, sadness back on his face. I half smiled, wanting him to cheer up but at the same time understanding what was going on in his mind. We had almost died. He had almost died. I had almost died. We had promised each other to never leave after Stephen went missing. We had almost broken that promise, both of us had.

I shifted to pull the picture from my pocket. Pain moved through my arm like a storm, but my desire to know the truth was greater than it. I slung my bad arm around Reg’s chest, moving the picture to my good hand. I shook it open, resting my chin on his shoulder. I felt my heart thump, tears welling in my eyes.

Stephen, sitting with a few other kids that looked just as adopted as him, in front of a Christmas tree. He was looking at Cole, but even sitting, he was taller than the army man. Stephen was smiling, happy. The kids around him looked happy. They all looked happy. Better yet, my baby brother was alive.

“We’ll meet again. Don’t know how, don’t know when…” Hank sang softly.

Mason took a picture, smiling sadly. I looked back to the piece of paper in my hands and shuddered. I dropped my head against Reg’s shoulder, burying my face into his neck. He only grabbed me the best he could and shushed me, head leaning against mine. I heard Mason’s camera click again.

“What do you think, kids?” I heard Jack’s gentle voice come from beside me.

I brought my head back up, sniffing and wiping at my dirty face. Reg kept his hands on me and Jack smiled softly.

“This way to Key West?” Mills asked as he and Reles made their way down from the top of the ploat.

Reles laughed happily, and soon the four surviving soldiers had grins on their faces as they sat around us.

“As soon as Slivko gets better, I think we’re good to go.”

I tuned them out and watched James make his way to the front of the ploat with Mason. They hugged again, swaying slightly. We settled back into silence as the ploat came into an opening in the river. The exfil. The sound of helicopters came over our ears and I had never been more relieved.

“We have to find a way to signal to them that they’ll have to bring one down. Slivko can’t climb with his leg like that.” Mills spoke out.

There was a thudding noise and it took us all a few seconds to realize it was coming from behind us. We turned to see Kong hitting his chest, taking a moment, then roaring. Mason’s camera clicked, and I felt Reg’s grip on me tighten.

“We still have a few flares left.” James noted.

He walked over to us, practically ignoring Reg as he grabbed my face and squished my cheeks. “You ready to go home, Bitsy?”

“Bitsy?” Reg repeated, incredulously.

“Shut up or you’re dead to me.” I squinted at him.

He turned his head against me, hair tickling my skin. He looked me in the eye before faking an awful laugh. I pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning back to my brother.

“Hey, what day is it today?” James asked, nodding at Reles to fire off the flare.

Reg jumped before checking his watch. I laughed, only to receive a head thumped against my collarbone.

“It’s the fifteenth.”

James’s eyes widened and he grinned at me, squishing my face again. “Well look at that. You’ve officially made it to eighteen.”

“You’re eighteen now? Man, I don’t know if I can handle a relationship with an older woman.” Reg sighed, but I could practically see the teasing smile on his face.

I patted James���s face with a smile. “You didn’t let me die before turning into an adult. Thanks.”

He kissed my forehead before standing and going to steer the ploat to the shore, where one of the helicopters had landed. I sighed happily before ducking my head into the crook of Reg’s neck and kissing his skin.

“Wait!” Mills broke my little cloud of heaven.

“What?” Reg grumbled back, also upset.

“How are you two gonna explain the holes in you?” He pointed.

“Anaconda.” I shrugged.

“I thought they didn’t bite.” Reg spoke to me over his shoulder, confused.

“They’ve been known to bite if they can’t get a good grip on their prey at first, actually.” San stepped in, also shrugging.

“Well, I think it’s believable.” Jack shrugged too.

James sighed loudly. “It’ll have to do because we have to go.”

I looked at the riverbank next to us to see two helicopters on the ground. Jack let out a holler, and Mills and Reles helped Reg stand. I folded Cole’s picture up and shoved it in my pocket. I looked up to see James’s hand in my face. I smiled as I took it, pushing myself to my feet. He pulled me into a hug as we watched everyone left get off the ploat.

The boys helped Reg into the helicopter before getting into the one with San and Houston. Mason climbed in across from Reg, and Hank took a spot next to her. Jack was half in and half out, hand on a rail as he looked at us, head tilted. He hopped back out and beckoned to us.

“Come on, I don’t wanna stay on this island forever.” I mumbled, breaking the hug and pulling him by the arm.

“Don’t strain your arm, Ire!” He scolded.

I rolled my eyes as my feet hit the ground and I practically ran to the helicopter, letting go of James and pushing myself into Jack’s open arms. He squeezed before lifting me up and dropping me into the helicopter. It took a moment for the dizzy feeling to go away, and then I sat myself next to Reg. He hooked his arm through mine and sighed as I dropped my head on his shoulder. I felt James settle in next to me and watched through half closed eyes as Jack across from me, next to Hank. He bumped his foot against mine. I smiled before letting out a breath.

“Alright guys. Let’s get out of here.” He raised his eyebrows before patting one of the pilots on the shoulder.

The rotors started to swish and the machine rumbled to life. Reg winced, moving his leg. I looked up at him, still against his shoulder.

“You okay?”

He met my eyes and nodded softly. “I’ll be fine.”

I didn’t take my gaze off him as he smiled and leaned down, lips meeting mine. Mason’s camera clicked, but it blended into the shouts of disgust from my brothers and another unheard comment from Hank. I pulled back and put my head back against his shoulder, closing my eyes. I felt like I could breathe now.

Previous: Wounds and Shrieks

Next: Surgeries and Cover Stories

[saxonspud]

Kidnapped - Chapter 10

Dutch held you, gently caressing your naked skin, until you drifted off to sleep. He wanted to do so much more, but he didn’t. After the trauma you had experienced, he needed to be sure that you fully trusted him. Besides, he could still see how tender your leg was. You didn't think he’d noticed you wincing, even with the slightest movement, but he did. He also knew at some point Hosea would need to check the wound. You were so innocent and naive, you would likely be terrified all over again, unless you trusted him completely.

Once Dutch was sure you were sleeping, he gently laid you back on the bed, covering you with a blanket. He quietly left the room. He needed to talk to Susan about finding you some clothes. He had no intention of allowing you to wear the clothes that Bronte had bought for you.

Dutch stepped out of the house and headed towards Susan’s tent. He just needed to get you some temporary clothes. Once this was all over, he would take you, and buy you the best clothes that money could buy. Not like the ones that Bronte had bought you, but classy. Then everyone would leave this godforsaken swamp. Travel west, or abroad, Europe, or maybe the carribean.

Dutch was snapped out of his daydream by a scream.

He looked towards the main entrance to see a horse walking in.

Dutch looked and looked again, “what the fuck!” he hissed.

“O’Driscolls!” Bill screamed, “take cover!”

You woke suddenly to the sound of screams and gunshots. You froze, pulling the blanket up to your neck. What was going on? You couldn’t even get out of the bed to look. You daren’t try and stand, let alone walk.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you saw the door opening. That was short lived, when a stranger walked in the door. His straggly grey hair hung down to his shoulder, his face was covered by a grey stubble.

“W...who are you?” you stuttered.

He chuckled, “who I am don’t matter princess, all you need to know is I’m taking you home!”

You stared in horror, “No! Help!” you screamed.

“’fraid that ain’t gonna happen, seems like ol’ Dutch is too busy with my boys to worry about you,” he chuckled, “your lucky princess, if I wasn’t bein’ paid, I’d fuck you just to spite him!”

You carried on screaming as he walked towards you. Without another word his fist collided with your jaw. There were no stars, everything just went black.

The firefight was over not long after it started. The O’Driscolls turned tail and ran. Dutch quickly survey the area, there were no casualties, except for poor Kieran, who’s decapitated body had arrived on the back of the horse. As soon as the shooting had started, the horse bolted, leaving Kieran on the ground.

“Javier, Micah, go bury the poor kid somewhere, I need to check on Emmeline,” Dutch sighed.

Dutch rushed back to the house, he hoped you hadn’t been too frightened. He was thankful you couldn’t walk, the last thing he wanted was for you to run into the shooting.

As Dutch rushed into the bedroom, panic welled within him, seeing the room empty.

He rushed over to the bed, and was horrified to find spots of blood on the bed, the blanket was missing.

“Fucking Colm!” he growled.

Dutch ran out onto the balcony.

“Charles!” he screamed, “get up here now!”

Charles came running into the sitting room, closely followed by Arthur.

“She’s gone, they’ve taken her,” Dutch growled, “I need you to find her, like last time.”

Charles nodded, and quickly headed into the bedroom, then back out into the sitting room then down the stairs.

Dutch stared at Arthur, “it was a distraction, Kieran, the O’Driscolls. This has gotta be Colm!”

Arthur frowned, “Why? Why would he do that? How would he know we even had her?”

Dutch dragged his fingers through his hair, “I don’t know son, but I have to get her back!”

The first thing you noticed when you woke was pain, and the taste of blood. You opened your eyes, but you couldn’t see anything. The man who had hit you, had also now tied you up and gagged you.

You were moving, albeit slowly and you could could hear the noise of water. You must be on a boat.

You didn't struggle or try to cry out. You knew from when Dutch kidnapped you, that it would only result in more pain or discomfort. You must have done something, because your new kidnapper realised you were awake.

“So have you decided to behave yourself, princess.” he chuckled.

You gently nodded your head.

He laughed again, but didn't say anything else.

Before long the boat came to a sudden halt with a thud.

You heard voices in the distance. Then you were being carried.

You tried to make out what they were saying, but you couldn’t understand most of it. Probably because it was drowned out by the noise of your captors boots on gravel. All you could hear was a crunch, crunch, crunch.

The crunch soon changed to a click, and the atmosphere felt warmer. You must be inside.

Then you weren’t being carried, as you felt yourself falling.

The landing wasn't soft. Your body hit something cold and hard, and you cried out.

“Careful you idiot, he doesn't want her damaged!”

Your captor chuckled, “bit late for that, now where's my money, we had a deal.”

“Mr Colm O’Driscoll!” You recognised the voice, but you couldn't quite place it.

“Mr Bronte, how about you pay up, then I’ll be on my way,” Colm O’ Driscoll hissed.

You felt a hand touch your face, you flinched and tried to move away.

“You’ve damaged my goods, Mr O’Driscoll,” Angelo Bronte growled.

Colm O’Driscoll rolled his eyes, “your goods wouldn’t shut the fuck up!”

“Take her upstairs, Mario,” Bronte commanded, “whilst I deal with Mr O’Driscoll.”

You felt yourself being lifted again, gently this time, as you were carried away from the noise. You realised now who the man was. He was a friend of your fathers, the man was always visiting. Bringing you the clothes which Dutch hated so much.

The man called Mario gently placed you on the bed, he removed the blindfold and the gag. You blinked, trying to adjust to the light. It was at this point you realised that the blanket you had been wrapped in was gone. You rolled onto your stomach, trying to shield yourself from the stranger, who was staring at you.

“bellissima!” He purred.

You watched as he walked over to a dresser. He pulled out a nightdress, identical to the one that you had been wearing the night you had been taken by Dutch.

He laid it on the bed, and pulled out a knife, slicing through the ropes that bound your hands.

“Here, principessa. Put this on,” he commanded.

You quickly grabbed the nightdress and put it on. You were slightly surprised that it was a perfect fit.

He quickly grabbed your wrists and retied them behind your back.

“Sorry Tesoro, but I have my orders,” he whispered.

You watched as he walked out the door.

As soon as he was gone, you pulled at the bindings on your wrist, only managing to chafe your wrists on the rough rope. You let out a sob, and buried your face in the pillow.

Why you, why did so many people want you. The realisation suddenly came to you. You were nothing more than goods. You were exactly as Mr Bronte had described you.

Charles and Arthur returned to Shady Belle. Arthur had gone with Charles as he tracked your departure from the old plantation house. Dutch had been right, the raid on the house had been a distraction. They couldnt guarantee it was Colm that had taken you, but Charles had confirmed that it was a man, who he had tracked.  The trail had stopped at a jetty close to the old Braithwaite house. He could only assume that where ever they had taken you, had been by boat.

Dutch nodded thoughtfully, his calmness belying the internal worry that was raging inside him.

“Thank you Charles. Arthur, get John, Lenny and Bill. I need to call in a favour, and we have a call to make!”

The door to the bedroom where you were currently being kept, swung open with a clatter, making you jump.

You turned your head to look. It wasn’t the man called Mario, It was Angelo Bronte. He glared at you angrily.

“Have you any idea how much trouble you’ve caused!” he hissed.

You stared at him speechlessly, which seemed to make him angrier.

He sat on the edge of the bed, uncomfortably close.

“What where you doing in Dutch Van Der Linde’s bed, naked?” He growled.

You stared at him, what was it to him? Why did he need to know?

“W..why am I here?” You whispered, questioningly.

Bronte sneered, then laughed mirthlessly. “Why? Because I own you, Emmeline!”

He grabbed your cheeks and squeezed them hard.

“So tell me, has he corrupted my you? Have you become his whore?” he growled.

Tears began to pool in your eyes, your hear beat wildly in your chest.

“You stupid Bitch!” he growled, as his hand made contact with your face, slapping it hard.

He stood up, “you better to pray to god that Cornwall still wants you for his wife!” he hissed, as he stormed out of the room.

Tears started to flow down your cheeks, as you started to sob. What was going to happen to you now.

[catbowserauthor]

When Everything Else Falls Away--A DBZ AU Story

Another AU related to the Buu Saga. When Goku can't feel his son's ki after the first encounter with Buu, his heart breaks.

So, I had so much fun doing an AU of Gohan greeting his father at the WMAT that I just had to do a few more AUs from the Buu saga. So, here we go. An AU of when Goku awakes after his fight with Vegeta and realizes he can’t feel his son’s ki anymore. DBZ copyrighted to Akira Toriyama and Toei Animation; no infringement intended.

***

Waking up from being knocked out always hurt, Goku had learned over the years. It didn’t matter if you were alive or dead, Super Saiyan or normal state. Being hit so hard that you blacked out always had repercussions. As reality slowly wavered back into being, Goku blinked his eyes open on an empty field.

               Not surprising. Vegeta was never one to hang around for long. He did his damage and then left. Ruffling his brow into a scoff at the sleazy move Vegeta had pulled—the empty senzu bag to his side was proof of that---Goku stood, dusting himself off as best he could.

               There would be time to deal with Vegeta later, though it might have to be given over to one of the others given his time limit, but as he scanned the landscape, his senses immediately picked up on one specific ki.

               “I can still sense Buu…”

               Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised him. It really didn’t,  if he was going to be completely honest. It was one of those situations where if he’d not felt the ki, it would have been more of an anomaly. Buu’s power was really something else altogether. If he’d been able to stay on Earth, maybe he would have been excited but no…not with that kind of power.

               “I can’t sense Vegeta.”

               Goku closed his eyes, focused. He knew all too well that Vegeta could suppress his power if he were so inclined but no one could entirely erase their power. He could feel it if the Saiyan Prince was nearby. So, he relaxed, cleared his mind, focused.

               Nothing.

               Had Vegeta tried to take Buu out? It didn’t seem possible but Goku wasn’t a fool. Vegeta may have let Babidi manipulate him because he was so caught up in his own pride but there was good in that stubborn Saiyan. If he thought there was no other way, then he wouldn’t have hesitated.

               More than that though, Goku felt his skin go clammy at what else he didn’t feel.

               “…I can’t feel Gohan either.”

               No. No, no, no, no, no. That was impossible. Utterly impossible. His son was just fine. Worn out maybe, winded and probably more than a little agitated at all this chaos sucking up his father’s day on earth but he was fine.

               Goku closed his eyes again and reached out with his ki.

               He’s fine.

               Spread as far as you can, he coached himself. Who knows where Gohan went. He’s a smart kid. If Vegeta couldn’t take out Buu then he would have regrouped, gathered the others, tried to create a plan of some sort.

Yes, yes, that was his smart Gohan.

               Nothing.

               “No.” Goku spoke it aloud this time and despite his body all but screaming at him, muscles insisting on rest, he pulled more power from the depth of his bones. It wasn’t much but it was enough to slip his hair back into gold and his eyes to turquoise. He could feel it flickering; the state wasn’t stable right now, not with as battered as he was.

               He reached out with his Super Saiyan ki, urging it beyond the abilities he had in his normal state. Searching ,seeking, digging under other kis, pushing others away, seeking until it pushed beyond the edges of the planet itself.

               All to come back empty.

               Weakness took him and not in a way he was used to. This wasn’t the weariness from the end of a battle, though he certainly had that in spades. This wasn’t the sluggishness of lack of food or little sleep. It wasn’t even the sickly nausea that came from losing too much blood. He’d felt all those and he knew what they felt like.

               This was deeper.

               He had a body but he didn’t really have a heartbeat or lungs or anything like that. Not while he was dead. The halo deemed all that stuff unnecessary.

               Yet, now, realizing his son’s ki was gone -- by all that mattered that could only mean one thing—the pain that suddenly rippled through him came from the soul itself. He felt his nonexistent lungs grow cold and stiff. They refused to pull in air and he sank back to his knees, trying to find purchase in the air. Trying to fill his body with breath that he didn’t even NEED but it was beyond his reach and he was suffocating.

               His absent heart felt like fire, pounding in his chest. His ribs that were no longer there shuddered under the pressure and it was like a fist being pushed through flesh and squeezing around his center most point until it popped and bled. Over and over, no reprieve.

               “My Gohan…”

               He didn’t recognize his own voice. It was his but not his. Robbed of its usual timbre and shaking with unshed tears. His hands trembled, dug new canals in the loose dirt and rocks underneath him. It burned when it came out of his throat.

               Everything burnt.

               His Gohan.

               His son…his first son…the boy he had taken from ChiChi with trembling arms after he came into the world. He had not believed it at first and still sometimes had a hard time comprehending that he had helped create such a thing.

               The infant he used to pace with while ChiChi tried to get some sleep and found out that stroking his tail was a fairly effective sleep aid. The boy would yawn with that toothless grin and curl that tail around Goku’s wrist. Sometimes, Goku would let him chew and gum on his finger.

               The little boy that used to crawl into bed with him and wedge himself between husband and wife, claiming the monsters of his dreams would never come into his parents’ room. He would nuzzle against Goku’s neck and his hair would always tickle and even though he was far too old for it, Goku would occasionally give the toddler his old pacifier. ChiChi would give him a scoff in the morning and make a remark about how it would make his teeth crooked but she’d always smile and leave him be aside from her verbal threats.

               The battered child that had still managed to smile at him, as broken as their battle against Vegeta had made them. The way he’d refused to leave Goku’s side and said over and over ‘are you going to be okay, Daddy? We’ll fix you up, Daddy, we will!’

               The boy that had sobbed and cried into his pillow when he thought Goku couldn’t hear, pleading for Piccolo, for Tien, for Yamcha, for Tien to forgive him. The same boy finally calmed when Goku said the hell with his restraints and pulled him onto his chest and yes, yes, Gohan was still allowed to suck his thumb!

               The child that had stood taller than his five years should have allowed against a monster that made grown warriors tremble. Goku had smelled the fear on him but all Gohan had said was that they had to stop Freeza and he wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing. Even when Goku raised his voice at him to leave—the first time the Saiyan ever remembered having to do so—it took him two more times before the boy finally went.  He never remembered being so frustrated at someone being brave as he was that day.

               The boy that had grinned and clung to him so tightly when he finally made his way home from Yardrat. Amid all the talk with Trunks, it was a stark reminder of how long he had been gone—since when could his son reach his waist? Surely he had only been a little past his knee when they last parted ways.  Yet that night, Gohan with cheeks aflame had asked if he was too big for Goku to hold in their chair like they used to those days before Raditz came. Maybe he was too old or too big but Goku didn’t care and held him there long after the boy fell asleep.

               The boy that would bring him in a tray laden with burnt toast and jelly that was more whole berry than jam but sheepishly ask if it was okay. Goku had an iron clad stomach and he would gladly swallow piece after piece of toast that nearly chipped his teeth if it would make that child smile---which he did, bright as a star.

               The boy that grinned and jumped for joy when they managed to snag a free day to go fishing. He’d run ahead of Goku, proclaiming he’d gotten “so good” at fishing and to just watch how many fish he could capture. Goku, despite being much faster than his son, would always let him win, always let him find the ‘biggest’ fish.

               Hours…hours of training preparing for the Androids. Gohan would sometimes wake up in tears because his muscles ached so badly but he just took it. He let his father tend those pains and always announced he was ready to go again and please, please could they go longer this time because he could take it, he knew he could. So many days he went home carrying a limp and exhausted boy in his arms.

               The Time Chamber…easily one of the best years of his life. A whole year where it was just him and Gohan. Training yes, but also laughing, playing, talking. Goku remembered many nights where Gohan curled up next to him, asking for them to talk and eventually admitting he wanted a story from his father, lingering on his every word as it soothed away his unspoken fears.

               Then there had been Cell. That battle…as much as Goku had remained calm on the outside, calling his son to fight had made his gut clench. His son could fight, Goku knew he could but still seeing it, feeling his son’s fear and pain. That was not something he ever wanted to experience again. Gohan had been so brave, so strong and choosing not to run back to him after Cell was defeated was the hardest thing Goku had ever done. When Gohan, his little voice seeming to be so much smaller had declared ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t still need you’ Goku had nearly caved right then. That was why he made his goodbye so short.

               Goku didn’t know how long he sat there, just staring at the ground and memory after memory cut through his mind. Each memory, each thought of Gohan made his whole spirit ache. Gohan had grown into such a strong young man, Goku hated that he had missed it. And now, Buu, on this one day when things were supposed to be a simple time, a time to catch up with his family, on this day, Buu had taken Gohan from him.

               He took him from me.

               It was an odd feeling. The weakness was suddenly gone and in its place was a form of power that Goku had only gotten a glimpse of one other time.

               When Krillin had died against Freeza and he slipped into Super Saiyan for the first time.

               This was _like_ that but stronger.

               Deeper.

               More dangerous.

               Was this what hate felt like? Was this what Vegeta felt like before he softened up? Was this what Vegeta was after? Why would you purposely go after this feeling? It felt like poison. Toxic, ever present poison that flooded the body, invaded the mind and made the heart feel cold.

               Goku slammed his fists in to the ground, caving it out from underneath him and seemingly making the whole earth shake. It felt, just for a moment that he was Super Saiyan, Super Saiyan 2 and Super Saiyan 3 all at once and yet not at all. It fluctuated so rapidly that Goku had no idea WHAT his ki was doing and at the moment, he didn’t care.

               He screamed.

               Not like before. Not like when he powered up or was punched or any other reason. All those could be rounded up in a word of definition. Pain. Disappointment. Sadness. Anger. This scream, this cry was none of those and yet all of them.

               The animals nearby scattered like ants amid a wave of water.

               Goku’s throat cut and bled and hurt and burned.

               It was a hideous sound. A hideous, ugly, horrible sound. One that sounded like it belonged in a horror story, not out of the mouth of a mortal. It was a roar, it was a sob, it was a curse and everything that flowed between all those.

               Goku collapsed, laying against the ground, trembling, shaking. His mind seemed to finally simmer and focused and he felt Krillin and Piccolo at the Lookout. He climbed to his feet, barely able to manage it. It was hard to keep their kis in his mind, hard to focus on them when all he was doing, still, was trying to find the one ki that he needed to feel that wasn’t there.

               “Gohan…I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

               It took more energy than it should have to call on Krillin and Piccolo’s ki and to instant transmit. Even when he took in the Lookout, he felt…distant. Like, he was watching and experiencing everything through a mist. When Krillin rushed him, he stood and took it but it felt too…it was too much to do much beyond that. He was surprised Krillin and Piccolo had felt his ki as wear y as it was.

               “Is Gohan here?” was all he said.

               It was a long shot he knew. It was foolish he knew. Even as weak as injuries made ki, he had learned to detect them. He would have felt Gohan. He would have felt him instantly. He would have known. He would have known.

               Krillin’s face fell and he shook his head slowly, from side to side.

               Piccolo maintaining himself as he always did, was blunt. “Vegeta and Gohan are both dead. Majin Buu saw to that.”

               Goku fell to his knees. He knew it and yet hearing it….his son and the word died or dead should never be in the same sentence nor anywhere near the same sentence. He should have been here, rushing to greet his father with a hug.

               He should have been smiling.

               He should have…

               Goku didn’t even really register when Dende approached and started to tending his wounds. He recognized when the pain lessened from his bruises and cuts and gashes but it did nothing for the inner pain. The inner pain, if anything, magnified. All he could think of was Gohan. How he’d been, how he’d looked, how he’d smiled and how he had so many plans for himself. Maybe, at the very back of his mind, he thought about the Dragonballs, but right now, he was too consumed in his emotions to think much on it.

               He couldn’t think much on anything. Just his Gohan.

               And Majin Buu.

               The Majin Buu that had taken his son away.

               It was so brief that you would have missed it if you have a half-blink. Goku’s dark eyes went turquoise then aqua, then yellow, then a slight silver shade and for a moment, less than a moment, the color about his eyes went blood red.

               It faded so suddenly that only Krillin saw it.

               He didn’t need to think much on it though.

               Goku was looking out over the Lookout, eyes fixated in the distance where Majin Buu’s ki still rose and rocketed. He said nothing but he didn’t need to say anything. Krillin knew his friend and Krillin knew the danger in that look.

               You took my son from me and I’ll have your skin for it.

[tales-in-paper-and-ink]

INKTOBER TALES - DAY TWO

(Illustration prompt: Vagabond, bonus story prompt: Divided)

Pepper woke to the sound of an unfamiliar voice, rough and husky, mingling with their parents’ familiar squeaks, spilling indistinctly into the burrow with the early morning sunshine. They tumbled out of bed and scurried to the door to see their mother and father chatting amiably with a huge grey rat. Her posture was casual and comfortable, leaning back just a little on her thick, ropy tail and dangling a rucksack at a jaunty angle over her shoulder, and she was in the middle of a throaty laugh that showed off her sharp, yellow front teeth. Russet and his wife, Maple, were laughing too, but their smiles were a little more reserved, and Maple kept fidgeting absently with her front paws and glancing about. When her wandering gaze came to rest on Pepper in the doorway of the burrow, her smile widened and warmed a little, and she called out, “You can come on out, Pepper, dear! I’m sure you’d like to meet our visitor.”

Pepper scampered over to their mother’s side and gazed up at the cheerful, scruffy face of the rat. The rat looked back down at them, her shiny black eyes like beads of onyx, and Pepper thought that she looked much, much larger up close somehow. “Good morning, little crumb!” she said, leaning down to Pepper’s level and putting her rough paws on her knees. Pepper noticed that she was wearing simple matching bracelets on each wrist - a single smooth stone tied around with coarse twine. “My name is Bailey, what do they call you?”

Up this close, Pepper could smell the unmistakable scent that permeated the air around Bailey. There was a faint undertone of unwashed musk, but it was mostly covered up by hints of pine sap and cut grass and rich soil, and Pepper thought they could smell something like berries and sour honey on the rat’s breath when she spoke. To Pepper, the smell spoke of travel and freedom and open air, and the effect was altogether enchanting. They grinned and stood up tall and held out their paw. “I’m Pepper!” they declared. “And I’m going to be a wanderer like you when I grow up!”

Bailey shook Pepper’s paw with a delighted chuckle. “So you are!” she said. “And a fine one, too, with that kind of spirit.”

Russet’s brow furrowed - only for a moment, but Pepper saw it - then he said, “Bailey, you mentioned you were only passing through the orchard when you stopped to chat with us, I would hate to slow you down on your travels if you have some place you need to be.”

“Oh, no, your little Pepper here has it right,” Bailey replied. “I’m a bit of a vagabond, no destination or schedule, just wandering. I gather food when I’m hungry, find shelter when I’m tired, and the rest of the time I just walk where I walk and see what I see.”

Pepper’s eyes widened and their tiny jaw dropped open. “That sounds just wonderful,” they whispered in awe.

“It sounds stressful and dangerous to me,” Russet said, “but we all live our own lives, I suppose.”

“Oh, there are risks, of course,” Bailey shrugged. “I find it just adds to the adventure of it all. Though once in a while it can be nice to stop and catch my breath.”

“Oh you should, you should!” Pepper cried out. “You can catch all the breath you’d ever need here with us!”

Bailey glanced at Russet’s thin smile and Maple’s twiddling fingers and shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to impose myself on your family, little crumb,” she said. “I can spend the day around here, find my own food and a place to sleep and be on my way at sundown.”

“Oh Bailey, I won’t hear of it,” Maple interjected. “Really, you’re welcome to stay as our guest for as long as you’d like.”

Russet nodded. “Maple and I may be a little shy around strangers, but please don’t take that for inhospitality. While you’re in our orchard you can eat and rest with our family any time”

“And besides, Pepper’s taken a real liking to you,” Maple added meekly. “I’ve been a mother long enough to know who I can trust around my babies and, well... I’d be happy to have you in my home.”

Bailey set down her rucksack and swept up Maple in a big, joyful hug. The little mouse squeaked and blushed a little as the rat hoisted her off the ground for a moment. “You’re a kind soul, miss Maple,” Bailey said, then she set the flustered mouse down and patted Russet on the shoulder. “And you too, sir. I’m awfully grateful.”

By now, the sounds of conversation had woken several of Pepper’s siblings, and Bailey was soon swept up in a swarm of curious voices and whirlwind introductions. During the days that Bailey stayed in the orchard, the clingy curiosity of the younger mice faded slowly, and they returned one by one to their regular routines, but Pepper stuck closer to Bailey than the fur on her back. They ate when she ate, slept when she slept, and hung on her every word.

Bailey reveled in her little companion’s adoring presence, and she showed Pepper all sorts of things she’d learned in her travels. She explained the difference between poison oak and poison ivy, taught them to make a backpack from a hollowed-out acorn and some ivy, and showed them how to find the best shelter in any kind of terrain.

And as they spent the days together, gathering plants and hollowing out acorns and taking breaks to eat berries in the tall grass beneath the trees, Bailey told Pepper stories. Stories about places they had only seen from high in their favorite tree but that Bailey had seen with her own eyes, stories about things that Pepper had only imagined, and things that she had never even heard of. Bailey told them stories about trees with long, thin needles instead of broad leaves, about streams so big and deep you could hardly see the bottom or the other side, about strange and unlikely creatures, some fearsome and some friendly and most so bizarre Pepper could hardly believe Bailey was telling the truth. But Pepper did believe, they believed every word that Bailey said, and with every detail in every story their heart set itself more firmly than ever before on adventure.

“When Bailey leaves,” Pepper announced loudly one morning at supper, “I’m going to go with her, and I’ll see the world!”

Silence fell over the family so quickly and thoroughly that the sound of Pepper cheerfully biting into a sunflower seed may as well have been a thunderclap. Russet cleared his throat and glanced at Maple, who was just staring wide-eyed at her child, her usually-fidgeting hands stock-still. “I know how much Bailey’s stories mean to you, Pepper,” Russet said carefully. “But she’s been traveling all her life. She knows her way out there. You’re still just a young mouse, you’re safest here at home, with your family.”

“But you said yourself that Bailey knows her way,” Pepper protested. “I would be safe with her! Wouldn’t I, Bailey?”

Bailey looked into Pepper’s tiny, hopeful eyes and felt something in her heart splinter. “I’m sorry, Pepper,” she said, looking away before she could see the little mouse’s face fall. “But your dad is right. You’ve got a good home here, and I wouldn’t feel right taking you away from it. I’m used to walking alone, I can’t guarantee you’d be safe with me, and that’s just not a risk I can take.”

Pepper tried to find words to express their feelings of disbelief and betrayal, but when they opened their mouth to plead their case, all they could manage to produce was a muffled sob and a stream of hot tears. Maple bundled them off to bed with soothing, whispered reassurances, but nothing she said could break through Pepper’s shell of disappointment. Eventually she had to tend to the other children, leaving Pepper to marinate in their sadness alone.

Pepper slept fitfully that day when they managed to sleep at all, and as they lay in bed staring at the packed earth ceiling of the burrow their sorrow metamorphized into something colder and harder and heavier. It settled deep in their chest, filled their limbs with a restless energy and their mind with scattered thoughts, and before the sun had even begun to go down all the pieces seemed to snap together at once, and Pepper shot out of bed, scooped up their acorn-shell backpack, and stumbled out into the late afternoon air.

The first thing they saw was a large, familiar shape walking slowly away from the burrow with a rucksack over its shoulder. Pepper strapped on their backback and hurried to catch up, and as soon as they were close enough they squeaked, “Bailey!”

Bailey flinched at the sound, but she stopped and turned to face her pursuer. “You were just going to leave without saying goodbye?” Pepper asked, their voice thick with accusation.

“I’m sorry, little crumb,” Bailey sighed. “I thought it would be easier like this. I didn’t wanna see you cry again.”

Pepper scowled. “Well I’m not gonna cry again,” they declared, tiny arms crossed. “I’m gonna come with you, just like I said.”

Bailey smiled a little at that, but her eyes glistened with the promise of tears. “You know, I was a kid like you once,” she said. “I had a family and a home before I started wandering.”

Pepper quirked an eyebrow. “What were they like?”

There was a brief silence as Bailey looked away and tried to gather herself. “They meant well,” she said at last. “So does yours. I can’t stop you from doing what you’re going to do, little crumb, but I can tell you this: I wish I hadn’t been in such a hurry to cut myself loose when I was your age. The future is a fickle thing, and sometimes when you leave a place you don’t get to come back.”

Pepper thought about this for a moment. “Will you come back here, at least?” they asked quietly.

Bailey ruffled their ears. “I can try my best, but I can’t promise,” she said. She paused with her paw on Pepper’s head, lost in thought, then she nodded in answer to a question only she knew and slipped the bracelet from her right wrist. “Here, little crumb, wear this,” she said. “As long as you’ve got yours and I’ve got mine, we’ll have something to connect us, and I’ll do my best to find my way back to you, alright?”

Pepper ran their paws over the cold, smooth stone and the rough twine and managed a tearful smile. They slipped it over their paw and threw their arms around Bailey’s waist, and Bailey hugged them back, fighting back tears of her own. After they separated, she patted the little mouse on the head one more time and said, “Now go on back to bed, Pepper. And tell your mom and dad I said thank you, for everything.”

Pepper watched Bailey leave, and the cold, heavy feeling in their chest sank into their stomach and seemed to catch fire. They walked back to the door to the burrow and looked inside, but they couldn’t bring their feet to carry them across the threshhold. Bailey’s words swirled in their mind, her stories of adventure and her warnings of regret, and they mixed with Pepper’s own worries and wishes and wondering, until the little mouse felt that if they stayed in the little orchard for one more moment they might burst. Without another instant of hesitation, Pepper took off running, not to follow Bailey, but in a direction all their own, away from the apple trees and the quiet burrow and toward something, anything, else.