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libidomechanica · 3 months ago

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He fountain that she unweeting … I well content

A ballad sequence

Meantime Gulbeyaz’ brow: here comes a ball; the trouble the use of timely fruit bush where there will know is, that is nothing

to the meadow your witchcraft o’ Beauty you greatly more: you have? Three fields, and Gouls in clay! No fault I am here

and he drew ill his breath, and if that old ruin or wild Princess of her sweetness hardly he who, after Colin

cloute, that will owe my heart I do hear, but Shakspeare’s, and stormy women, the Doric mothers’ feelings from every

harp, unless than one? The clergy take amiss, because a fool’s captured our tale, of which oft avenged: heavy as soil.

He fountain that she unweeting … I well content. Eating in an abyss. She lifts the present pardon their Lips. The

dinner, they please to mone. Of Englishwoman’s eyes proceedings teach it divination is— the air of her you’ve loved

adventurous chamber or the great Professor Kant. Shed its applause. Outside swells, and now by their pains get only

in mere talking of the whole soul on me she summit, and prove the house, the human specie can, upon Salámán how

should not Life be equally, when possesse? Save you didn’t see me weep so sore, then by more truth; and if one should best becomes

a wayward Babe, and if those poor wretch, in this moment in his lungs, who turn a lady to speak as yesterday.

You stink like two doves will decide, until this time in the mere sighing and queen, but Turkish phrase offended. And as

I drew at my fault, it is to beare: when the funds at warfare. If single beauteous influence that aim and cleaved

to two and without the debt shoulders, if rather that inward became, and, tremble. Outward she put his existence,

seeke a better prie; what we’re a slender acacia would have known a lover’s sight, and morbid eye, to take the moment

as a bitter than the value might sun glorifies thence the prizes; he had recently increasing; thy mermaid’s

songs did lend a dreadful things ladies want, save a proud rider on the whole gazette of the webbing its roof, and

so must tell us what the deed, thou pluck’d: were the color and frighten’d my top teeth. Between the Welkin shone her

approbation their array; and Persian, maintain that sweet coral the long canto the Eye and play it well as

ministerial trade. A shadow stile to dwell, and with his prey, light she wander at will be time is sharp spear, whose rod’s comfort:

there when dreams I prefer the duration or the pawnshop windows and me, giving than you have the poet here?

And agèd Shadow, Cynara! Are you once again an inch of sweet words, of love: this hole your sweet and cries, and tear. And as the wood the cry remain unto the background, there is London hisses? And henceforth no create himself for

pay. To recreation, even the fire was this violent remedy be tried to theyr flocks into some sorteth like sunny gems on any slight and look’d one of though she was fond of a faith, too—filled with his shield, where blood should he the

suspicion free. Who was a mother, but having need of caulking, for more than words, embracements were of the late. White man not a chef come down his shadow flits and flies to set up vain pretences to love a cheek a dye of what

to thee: ah Christian dogma rather difficult commander; tis strain courage dwells; And must the happy state: let this act of inurbanity, selfish, and dead pretend to this high delight of earth, and what’s still small hands, and plague, Vertue

is music and of Chian wine! A thousand bosom, when prayer! Even as the sun shall suspect offer’d her angry brow; mine eyes on the bramble was much miseree? But now to the nothing but my birth, of yellow breath, ere day be done?

But Damme’ s rather wavering gentle write. Have found useful, like to their fury being they could strive to bleed. The clouds consult, if fucus this be as good, or being his upturned nest beneath his love- kindling firmly to the

sea, and clasping and grave it: the Maids drew near; things settled the ungrown fry forbears: then, therefore I mean an honest gentle write. That image from our old manorial hall. For some back to looked in mine ear, or like his smell to herdmen

and twirls. From out my heart stand, you are you goe nye, fewe chymneis reeking your planet that tyrants, and bite it from his death, but thou, I know not; probably his breatheth life is done; and thick neck cannot right is only the dove, my death divine

themselves do slay, or butcher- sire that awful wedlock fount is,—or whether such things as sympathy poor choice deserues the gray morning, right he would assure theory after leaue me here for confounds. And with rigorous

rage to tread, my heart hath thee, the grieslie Todestool growne there was not as I said between the mahogany than is the rest be hidden kinds of incomes which her bed, and blows the high celestial breath, a rake turn’d to climb, and gathers

samphire, ’ that benefit of low replied Katinka, until his lips’ rich treasure. In fact, true love of life, he would faint, but not euill becommeth him to God’s blessing is forged lies. The tu’ s too much of navigation, then my off’ring

next I make my marrow was turned in the great Bandogs will draw his daughter—but in two. ’ Fire. Safe arrival, so that a child but in good satire, i’d try it: i’ve seen yours, not the least to haue lorne, my living pearl the Queen

of less to come once am settled all the wind will not reach! When he saw the handsome but warm, and ledde of the loan of Charles’s Wain? All gently cowers his sober beverage numeral; also the sheepe and stains and melts the only

their steads, ylike as a sea- attorney once is immense and succulent, such things be done, her woman living in. A scolding or the nuptial examples of Bath. The faces that strait bed I may love till I wend, my piteous mone.

But when thereof nourished shall see what we like, thy lips shall offend thine ear, and smile. Me softly call, soothing calculable mysteries as I sat all to desire, nor brag not of gay flower in green mama who first day when

thou canst thou, and wishing, asking a woman what indigestion is a loss what after death, O Love, and fell at a time of both to fill they do not stop twitching sickness. Young, and deplored; while I place your grace is froward. Whether

he marriage. His last award, with her ere his feeling were dumb. My words, of love and steeps his eye, which embarrassment, replied, and then would not even except where the life forget not yet. Me with; which after which to stones still hanker;

as the spheres of Hell and worn, with such a fire I espy walking in the grace; or the fear where humble lookes most vile, and, clinging things, and their courser’s rein under whose glowing knees; her several parts complete perfect without any

dare a new museum? By the right; our day, that will be as time of beaver hats. The Arabs, Turks, and a hush without turning saw the hearts there: for he nears, such tales being? His remark which is cool, he fierce look’d down, the sinners.

Deep thanks me not of gay flowers upon his arrival, so that if thou wilt hunt, be rul’d by snow! His closed by the

wall were couches, toilet, which in their quiuers, in Sleeps armory; with others of some feeling with gentle bow curt’sies

are grey peeling parasites; like shrill-tongu’d tapsters and of children’, as this requisite face, so pick juicy rubies

and land, for them wet again? But Juan saw an approved, the wise pity me? In limning out of thyself to him.

Their shops of shaving thee to the tree; the king is spread; gazelles and strike him up; I’ll help you will lay by, to take the Crown the evening rain Unravellers journey, and dwarfs and

cause the commonplace book argument, but one hour of a boy to men must away, and every springe giues place to meet her in the bowl with Samian wine! Since thou shalt thou lik’st not

fond tones and Moon in happy valley-fountains, on music, and pitchy night, and the people to repose, or one or lees that had been perhaps you prophet. The very steep in

a corners of sweet and backward drew the beauty brings a great appeare in beauties be a perfectly beheld; the Antic long hath deserv’d a great then upon his hand drop

it at the end of a foolscap crown on a foolish- witty: her best is take thy heart. Thought behind ye: yet, trust all good thing above all his blood to it. But it is nothing

some experienced few; and without love, for fear of ghosts, ’ replied at her heel flow’d rounde, that leadeth on his subject; but upon the torch out, while deepe furrowes faster ty’de.

As those hollow cradle take thee; but Juan was no shadow white baracan that thou in what we used to own, tho’ half

he wish’d extremes; despair and wit, whether house an irredeemable woe; for though as any, no doubt, an easy

glove, as yet does rifely bleed, and she beheld my spirit had been obliged to have but once so many tours of

silk inlaid woodwork all greasy with their bread—that rauishing, and still thy might, and direful god of darkness chastity,

love-lacking juice, that they at their queen, save such expense: I do not raise Ceres from overworking the steed is

sour to maintaine this very poor Venus when summer’s raptur’d view, the candle, you should be no other, ere they late

excel a common sempstress. Or to some shore beloved in the house, the pleasaunce mought please: I doubt everywhere descend

their years, that we, one long done; and then adieu, the honey fee of passing his blood: it will do; but by a private

way, boded no good, whatever sheath’d up in a brake. My father’s son, and raised for their quiuers, in Sleeps armory;

with burning moves, who are dumb, yet he could not alone in theyr sheepe ah seely sheepe: and that singular emotions

from monarch’s seat of life, in limning out from whence all things won’t analyse—our story as it sensual; for beside

whispers in all the colour’d portal’s side, required his chirrup at herself in all have talk’d bad French, as all the

loving life is dear Waggoners, ’ around, dark as a sin, but a convulsion, wind—depending sale was better. And

you to sleep disclosed amidst the dust in his dangerous life to Sorrow; I cannot repel a lover sate a

silence of thy fancies bitter wound of hideous human dress, and infidels, to put a favourite frown, O!

Of heads, than all our lives upon that in a kitchen light, that went then marke-wanting and kissing struck her error, like

to pleased to wrestling to beare coles of such foul face of its inside my foot to welcomes the world? ’ With cheese and silver

doves; by whom he had fifty- nine years, a ward connections we now enough, for lovers swift I wandred her. No

fault was mine.—An’ Charlie and degree, and my motion from the tuck-in of a captive sophy, who, seeing of my

arms his field, the usual Origin of Evil; the future man: the same troade, but he were lamps, then quickly speak

my name. Might be that noysome gulfe, which thought about the name with that frown, he shrunk to a Sybarite’s, who have ne’er

willeth; who still worse, for those scarlet coat, black snakes up on high, and shown the same. But of sike pastoures howe done to

heaven, that light glancing at themselves for mines of salt and your neck alone like my Mama under the castling, the

delight in the Continent, because it was no want of ties made, some passion might do. And part; like foule wagmoires

ouergrast, there’s the rest; but skill smooth’d for ruining Great Britain gratis. Yet tis to lose by one criticism

to recollections—these are figur’d in a second whiskey, on the lie, till her best look on her by death had

though but flicker, and from the sky to where faith is kneeling maid. Her feature, that ground she was by, the very stars the

source of love, her cheeks and friendly sighs dry her cheek to cheek. Or can’t help thinking people’s wooing to a prime

ministerial trade, ’ like him in; oft blind was receive his guardian green like the house; with grief for where honour’s in about

poetry could return in your sweet embrace; so nimble feet as you to be more I had to choose not to be?

Juan, who had made to seize; she could be. Man, midst royal couple at the faculty—who sail the free, as you to an

enslaved owing to his neck a sweet creature breath,—he from Káf to Káf, down that both the welcome of a boy to men

much flatter tea and the hurt and dames abhorr’d; a thing as the Doric mothers, sweet, their feet on that the forms that sike

misty ring, is call’d on a cursed taste, ’ as some know or knew, wherein she seizeth on to dross, pall Mall, and those who will

I; as doth urge releasing: and sire; subject; and put thy pleased we went. Or cheerful without Greek contrive, get next

are only childhood blesses, thy praise: hate to come of us have I feel the present sorrow places by the war

roll down before Don Juan, who cried aloud because a sugred kisses while some people beat with thy hand with the Sultan’s

pardon, I am all askance he could no more sincere a painter! As real as this time he trode. Dash down your

face oh look her visage hide, steal things do or do not know yours alive that the scatter’d shield, however we may end

ill, even as an imagine this time, the living in. With the fighting court for busloads of both, or but the hour

and I have known themselves a foe. They all found the wind, flung hovering kings, which was an untoward Lambkins takest keepe:

and that he had no great cause the totem. To be a totus ter in die capiendus. Her they were happy valleys,

half in dreams be, if of joy to day: her title be but great, if not half your neck be wroong! Speak, fair; but the Age of

Gold when gold was only one alive. The things changed me already we’re but mine eyes and blackout, Madam white yowes.

A Disciple ask’d him flush of you are fairly. Mind like a duckling by his bending crescent Moon, when in this heartbreak, so narrow streets, and frown, he shrubs, with oats! Call it bring for the conveyance which upset old Troy and declared an act of the season’d, as once

in the connections—these which outweighs along a table, or whate’er the flocks creeping, spread a lawny loom and clime and goodly groan advantage found those lips billing plums, or pears; and hail once made him from Perdition—timidly, timidly tow’rd her—but she will

the flittering for those was ever hurts him, and I switches, such a structure had sail’d their daily labours so, that does rifely bleede. ’ And I have becoming home to woo her, gatherine’s reign, whom glory also, though how it was not at a loss what after

all for they nould be able set for any sage’s creed or call, tis one thing ready to maintain to this sorrow only troubled brain can have slept in haste, make the and bound. Of her high, for a centuries—of artists dying within our wood; even

shuffling Southey’s gander. And when our fresh and trusting from so much cleared these tarantulas each day—that might compare, whaever has met wi’ my Phillis to muse and so forth, suffer from his mouth. Once more fair. Or better than lie, but a voice and juicy. Like a shame,

and all with disclosed welcome her, who blush so to be cool’d; else, suffer’d, it did not room enough too daring—who would fain find a clear demonstration of a subway ride you still have their pay: and being great, himself was his weekly bills. Some die, and low: and though

I were not tell exactly, she doth fall, he found useful, like pearls, who have thee, Herrick, to Anacreon’s son, and thee in sorrow only two that they walke not till days Time had no hearing; till the poet tuck away more, where Grattan, Curran, Sheridan, all the

Grenvilles? For the coast being gone, a globe of rauenous Wolues yrent, all that I may cease to moue; whose beams upon his half-way house, ’ she sat, and now Adonis’ tramping court for busloads of bone, the garden by their mellow should e’er grow; my flesh and teach their

hair fell in their verdict is death squads passed yougthly pryme, to where is Maud, Maud, Maud, and a joy in flower made a pearl tiara, and cassia crown that the others, when the way in which learn’d to scorn; sick-thought your life! Even by the wall, I will breath in the eare

his sleepers pass, when we have all the poor beauty it was, wistly to view how she went had I lain for you, gentlemen, yet are so wondrous place, the candle lit at noon, lost as a Cairn Gorme, or that’s no such thing which ensure your figure, her persons they are put

one’s eyes seen in years? And tis they must burn: o! Among the lamp that we like, make example, so wild; thou bringeth for my part, that he who, by one moderate in the milliners of differing in the sheepe: als of that; and if there mayst thou thyself rejected, steal

thine may like you seen but a voice of this sort of slumb’ring in the closed the matters Russia’s might; but in good thing above the world, the lion walk’d till now,—death’s annoy; but a young days, either prose or fell; thy custom-house, with some veins would bring for the first began

the weakness numbs each other’s garden ground? And where— oh, where euer among. A bottle broke from the passion might obliged to hear the cannot be seen. Handsome but waxing this beauty hath none; the purest Platonic love, work, child! A riot, he perceive in her

pastoral hillocks, brakes obscurity? Alone, for fear of any premature disclosed at sunset; O, a shout more than on the former worth. Was nought beside all things which enclosed the book of Common Prayer in Weal or Woe, nothing high dash’d that I mean no harm.

And even the key upon a late-embarked friend stories from thence through the tea, among six boys, or bedlamites broke the tyranny now she went ill or well; join lip to lip, and wishing, and dance to answer all my shafts of love what kings have so muddy minds,

as not violent remedy be tried him to slide, who has stood by. Let me crawl into the enemy’s hospitable cares heare speach which reward fortune, in shade shines from his bending wind, we han greater is come again: but where no disease should return’d into

a rage. For those, if he dancer, much too poetical: men should not beg in vain; for a nobler and begg’d for jealous of catching that truly loved what great causes all fear she came we? He set his Jenny on his love, like Nadir Shah, that so well served in the damn’d

despair, and dwarfs, dancing girls these young, beauty, blotting into future breath, her soul may drink of Hippocrene, which looks I do her intendments breaks white. Hiding their business to come off handsome, and now she will, so I turned into the usual several weeks,—

but not think that the fox which keeps verse—I wish men to please a bonie green: she had bene. Many subtler, and yawn’d a good night her can rest me this? Having no fair throne: see not whither: one monster, other house did this he breaks before sighs behind, the loftiest kings

rare in violets where’er he had be slain lovers, manifold the steuen, lowder had be better it grows later. Ah, but, forget not claims her arms be bound to me, until she talk’d on the coffee, which,—taken at the wind, never had bene a great deed I dare?

’St Doubt, for my state: let this t’ ye: Small is but the purpose; and after dinner and every true lover’s fortune

and perceiving hue? Secure all was all pillow, sweeping, spreading round the pale Virgin’s mystic, ancient Pistol—by

the waves will comedies are too tender. Although its high Iliads; about thine own face the sun should sup! But still the

climate was hand-and-glove without the usual term of trophies, statues warm youth, and denies,— lest individual.

He deems a strangest in this virgin Knowledge or our sins,—making the mosque crescent Moon, and panting and kiss’d her!

The sick weak wordy harvest thee! Since there, away she runs, and golden shame to hustle? Had seen. What a stake, Centuries

sincere woman’s being? That feast-day that’s a pity. Of monsters, will caruen the stray at plea deny and sad

and great prosers, and now it’s dead I will be sparing ill. Knows no pity, but no less stupid, if she known some fly,

some alchymic furnace, vapour, discovery of her sex: but come at last; gold cup, a rose, and doting a worse for

what you please, not to be pure light, and while at the small items costly. Their smell to the fire? Which of its countrymen,

we will I, until I see their faces, especially for foreigners in a tender People at her fire through.

Yet her first day when the pillar! But shall not in literary lower, and fasted, wae is me there will find a

clear demonstrance make, the worst things which show’d the remnant of the color of thing on each? But sometime false failing, passion-

flower imagination: affection from its high Iliads; about this night-dew, on a sudden a pair of

Mahomet’s be honest friendship with that leads to love is. Who ever waxeth strong tongue, now he sung of her who love

is a weedye crop of carefull cold hath produced, and calm and oil, roses are alone evades content to leaden

Castlereagh!—It success is much to his young or office: all the absent wrong’d four times a day. And half a Scot by

birth, or which turn politeness and pay them all alike admir’d. Or bene they make Loue is chastitie: o eyes, a long

dishevell’d mongst the aidance on better, for the grand epitome of lavish pearls as large drops the world of

Pantisocracy; ’ or Wordsworth’s poem, call’d Saviour of a beauty as the spouse, for all thy foot to have said! Make some

richer one, and children—women, and while she had swept o’er, to which is my spirit which are of no party, I shall

be delightful plain, sworn, downright days went onward, each other and frown, O! Her reason … Since then roar through what complacency

he creeps, with it all colour’d portal’s side: your self. Content was the sea on my breast no thorns had made him dead.

Look up but I knew a woman’s eyes, that are. Come then, as an Italians nickname mule’, a half-unquench’d in the charm

to other plenty deck’d with painted light fold in the cold seas, on their queen with such a sinner; pleasure my selfe

onely by his system t is certain, and gloss, and faint, but like a river or as a long passionate cry, there

is Maud, Maud? Find fault cleanly out; the things which reason, renegado rigour, softest downy breast down her whisk the

stars, how thee time’s furrowes tries? I have sung, the sounding with her wrong; being some other cantos touch the waves pouring

to a hair, and the lieu of drawing on the world’s mastering Muse deigns think than she leaps that from morn till now. A

summon’d Baba, and Dudu; in short to save her eyes young man that terror doth extenuate; and the sun upon

a thousand doors gainst a winter comes a Virgin shroud, her cheek and still permit the virtue yet, except his heir.—The

stars she sees, but all along behind the two life-giuing light, trim, who will I—nill I. Last night of the long milk-bloom of

fire. And queen o’ the grave,? Along the wise to meet to-morrow, if we live, the first cold deny’d— send word by Charles’s

Wain? Juan knew several animals: an old pass this be true; thus was it not what is call’d eternity: the regions

of all-not thou, Love, and so no more, whose headlong passed, the danced and whored, the very refused me! With her throat,

despite her to the ground and the o’erlabour’d steel cable spanning head o’er each other. Love did with payne. Here comes a

bleed. Now here descended by a kiss sedate grey peeling for the happy Hour, enter’d in the dark laund runs the world

over. Me out, little they him can comment upon the other class, call’d marriage without there is no chaungeable

rest, from ear to greet yours, having done; till a Boy, and tallest her ears would haue made increment of worth. And excuse!

Witness the eare his fair arms reaching her minion bleed as if he had occupies me. Even so she lay, having

no fair as docile, because Adonis’ voice. Then slacken’d it, which he was young lip began to whimpers, and these phrase

is Shakspeare’s, and die before a tower of heart and eat, good part of ties made plain as acids rouse a bright or

wrongs, nought red mouth, that is past, make verbal repetition of a captive’s hours. The which my hand or his vulgar brain.

Can help clings to the help of bath desires; but the next, like a vision. The ocean drench’d in his swaddling-band. Thine

eye? To be, or any one’s old resentments level, when for the fairer and coal-black chaos comes in my breast—but

plain, that sting each thee. Gain the Early Season satisfies the help of battle array’d through Kennington and the silent

shore beloved I lost against Cossacque sabres, in lilac letters Cadmus gave—and smiling died; and, as once

were. For gentle write. A glory to divine: my breast he pays no reason to wach and pendant lord, across the land,

on fall nigh the dark obscures her heel flow’d o’er the daylight’s herald, on conditional future states of better sound

sleep she lay; surely were all accompts did tremble underground an entrance,—well I may pause in which they survey of

them each day—that Sphinx, whose armes embracing bushes to pick and fate? Is so love the glamour of regency ghouls. Now

of thing I desire; for front steps are conqueror at least proportions out upon her bosom like cherubim!

No fault cleanly couer, that is it? In beautiful to your hair, her graves may hit on: but I won’t philosophise on most of us dies, and still one date; but still, pluck down on her tears, that the smart boys spurr’d fast by loving swine with a

scullery pan to pick juicy rubies and many a stroke, then unmade more than this. That ransom—in the bolt and batter’d race, except to Time. Which shook that times falls and edicts out freedom, he apple, and twining arms she took Juanna

by the garden fruit nor flower. She was a mother, but wit, confusion and silk curtain’d, which thou destroy’d, amidst the high heaven-kissing so seen to be of that regard, but he were strung together mix’d, had seen malt liquors

exchanged, for it—’t is too late beware, the graves may hit off at speed, and her feet his team to guide seafaring my arms his free, the same, Katinka was a Christmas they are, to deck her yoking at such thing around was calm and shown

the boar with blindfold fury she blushing plums, or peace—alas! I shape of morn, gulbeyaz was an amusement jessamine stirr’d with gore; where an hour to expel; for one winkle in that is bigger fellows, all for her nieces shines so!

To have lent you sit or walk, you were mostly for this she had no path that which t is but a din. While now it’s official, I said it to make a break my heart’s purest Platonic blasphemy, the blood and such a deuil wants hornes

but ears, too, to the Baltic’s navigation; he with doing all, leaue to display all wracked be? We daur na gang a milking, but none his home, as the converted by thy losse, they say at least heaven’s circles moved as into matters

hast thou in Margent see? Shall not mark of love, disdaineth; suns of the Black and bull; but to sight sooner was out, but slight of soil, nothing brightest Georgians might; but I won’t slip and neighs unto her; which reason he himself from the infant

girl who smiles as in beginning, but true-sweet music, and honour’s wracke beyond her babe from gods of late. In a moment losing, who put me first her ear, to her lost all fulfil your heart out all this desire’s fountain or in

the house, that trash of such disdain, that God be good old aunt, not with barrel wine, and said she fixt a show, which are of no woman making a narration, no doubt every Christians to die. And loyal scratch and yet no Hand outwore the

dears. Lowder had not rhyme and aw’d resisteth, which the holy order; when he did frown, and I loathed Paddocks lording to the great causes all fear she cannot rejoice, this theme— he seldom from a band of pine, a passions, frantic looks

so sterile, but not his dismal cry ringlets, blown a life- breath, and that such a light that I thee proof in word once from out thine may hear, ever full of despair? Instead of love, as yet are such a deuil wants hornes but name the Mother’s

guise, then bloody beast, which you sit fore your grace it is with interest, and the world equals the pools that are. He knew to bid thee light, your belles and revisions of theyr good night grows later. Heirlooms of the bare bulb softens above, wearing.

Being steel’d, soft sighs draws delightful plain, round ranged rounde, so as thou wast begot; to get a little flowers, though t is in the many moe. To tell upon you talk of law before him throughout the apartments, the evening in

the moment in him for then though not appropriately has been said, The devil is done. Husbands take true rights of the Tory member’s base purveyors, who had a foot of May, since I am I, who else, was wrinkles curl’d much more

resisting. One large tree. Dreams be, if of joys or woes: yet very dashing, but she was sensitive, and so drive on, postilions. And serious proue, onely lou’d Tyrans, iust in his revel and worn, with oath to bear, or newer.

Bear witnesse withstands that wealth, kingdom come. And there is Kosciusko’s name—from Spain. But let a fall, trust me, I sometimes

a year to follow their companion new, should be dug up! Think of that love is a thing of the coffer-lids them yet,

tis not it at all. Fit Oratours to my neighbours’ land, one and then hath decrease why she blush’d, and he must be wooed.

Tyrant stain’d glass and all life’s first her majesty, who, though the third canto—and then have: far I was graceful sleeps; ’ we

feel without any flaws or stars and unfather’s nakedness. All the pools that are wed? Through all my spirit beauty

set gloss of the fridge, on the shepheards boyes young strange the man’s force. But the valley-fountains; or as meek, breaking willow,

sweeping? Absence such frisks are like the door was better fits him to infancy beguile her green dropping like glorious

Gothic windows? Skill that in mine ear, above all that killing like awe, that, is to fire: bid her face, as alone.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #168 texts #ballad sequence

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duramaters · 2 years ago

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Something Gained // Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Synopsis: You had been one of King Loki’s concubines for five years now, there were others, but you did not know them, and you did not care to. You were Midgardian, brought to Asgard as a bargaining chip with a consortium of other women who faced the same fate. Odin’s fall into Odinsleep had thrown the Nine Realms into chaos and so the leaders of each realm had offered Loki anything he could possibly want to keep him satiated and avoid the possibility of war. Unfortunately, offering up their women was part of that deal. One night during your assigned evening with King Loki, he reveals his true form. Your response is… unexpected.

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You entered the palace with more confidence than usual, knowing that the king genuinely wanted your body and your company. You were so confident in fact, that you did not even knock on the door to the kings chambers before entering. He swiftly turned around from his position over his desk and the furrow in his brow softened when he realised it was you at the door. Moments seemed to pass whilst you stood and stared at each other, your confidence had left you when you saw his beautiful face and now you stood toying with your skirt apprehensively. Eventually you found yourselves meeting in the middle of the room and your heart stuttered as Loki lightly swept your hair over your shoulder.

“Hello, my sweet.” He murmured as he leant down and pressed chaste kisses to your jaw.

“Hello, my king.” You replied, voice breathy with a mixture of nerves and lust.

“Now, now none of that.” You pulled back slightly and quirked a brow at the king. He chuckled. “You must call me Loki. I want to hear you moan my name while I fuck you up against that wall.” He motioned to the wall behind you with his eyes and there was no way you could hold back the shiver that wracked your body.

“Yes,” the only words you had the mental capacity to utter, “yes, please.” A predatory grin lit up his face at your quiet pleading and he began tearing at your dress while continuing to devour your neck. It wasn’t long before he had exposed your bruised shoulder that had faded to an ugly yellow and without missing a beat he bent down and placed a lingering kiss against the discoloured skin.

“I am so sorry. So sorry.” Loki leant his forehead against your collarbone and you could sense his anguish so you drew your hands up to his hair and gently tugged so he would meet your eyes.

“I know, Loki.” You smiled gently down at him, his eyes wide and bright with emotion. You couldn’t help but pull him towards you and taste his lips while he hummed in appreciation. The king slowly walked you backwards, deepening the kiss as you went, until you felt cold marble between your shoulder blades. A soft ‘oof’ left your mouth and Loki took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your open lips. His hands were lavishing your body and you could feel the strain of your nipples against the silk. With a dip of his head Loki began his slow descent down your jaw, to your neck, licking across your collarbones and down to your chest, praising your body between each kiss. Before you knew it the man was on his knees before you, brushing your skirt up to your hips and pulling your leg onto his shoulder. You gasped as his arm wrapped around your thigh and his delicate fingers gripped the sensitive flesh. You had taken the initiative to not wear underwear beneath your clothes, you wanted as little fabric between you as possible and the king seemed very approving of your decision. He dove at your glistening cunt like a man possessed and it wasn’t long before his tongue had you mewling and shaking against the marble, hands tufted in his tousled hair. After you came down from your post orgasmic haze you smirked at the king and dragged him back up your body before surprising him by switching your positions and slamming him against the wall.

“Oh pet, that’s new.” He grinned wolfishly, but his eyes darkened and his jaw went slack when you tugged on his trousers and freed his cock, pumping it wantonly while gazing up at your king with hooded eyes. “Careful sweet or I’ll come undone with that look alone.”

“Don’t tease, Loki.”

“I’m not my dear. It’s been weeks, I’m extremely sensitive right now.” You stopped your ministrations and glanced up at Loki.

“Weeks? But it’s only-“

“Weeks.” He interrupted your calculations. Surely one of the girls would have seen to his needs only three days ago. “I haven’t seen any of the others since you ran from me. I haven’t wanted to, especially after I saw your selflessness and loyalty. Amongst other things.” He winked down at you and you felt your face catch fire at his insinuation. With the mention of your private…activities, you felt his cock pulsate against your hand and a bead of moisture dripped onto your thumb. Not knowing how to respond to his admission, you simply brought your hand up to your lips and licked the salty precum off your finger, all while maintaining eye contact with your king. He clearly found the image unbearably erotic and threw you over his shoulder with a low growl, marching towards the bedroom. You barely had time to register how wet the display of his strength and want had made you before you were spread out in front of him, completely naked among the sheets. It reminded you of your last night together, before he had lost control of his anger and chased you from his rooms. You wrapped your legs around his torso and pulled him closer to you, adamant that he wouldn’t be leaving you this time.

“Getting desperate are we, my sweet?” He purred into your ear, hands palming at your breasts. You whimpered in response and lowered your own hand to grasp at his cock.

“Please.” You whined. “I need you, Loki.”

That did it. The king bit down sharply on your uninjured shoulder and impaled you on his throbbing cock. You almost screamed at the sensation as your pussy stretched to accommodate his length. He lost control of his own desire and pounded into you. You welcomed it and cried out your pleasure into his silken hair, scratching your nails up his back and noticing that he had rid himself of his tunic at some point. Loki raised himself up on his elbows and watched your face contort with pleasure as he moved over you.

“Gods you are beautiful, especially when you’re coming undone beneath me.” You surged upwards to kiss the smug look off his face and you felt his hand creeping up your neck as he wrapped his long fingers delicately around your throat. With just one light squeeze from the man you saw stars and felt yourself gushing around his cock. Loki couldn’t hold in his groan at the feeling of your fluttering pussy and within seconds you could feel his hot come spurting inside of you, sending you into another otherworldly orgasm.

“Gods Loki, yes.” You moaned as you writhed beneath him until, fully spent, he collapsed half on top of you. Loki gently brushed your sweat soaked hair from your face and gazed at you with so much admiration you could feel your heart physically swell.

“Thank you.” He whispered and you shifted slightly to place a lingering kiss on his forehead, hoping it was enough to convey your emotions.

“You’re welcome Loki. But just so you know, next time you fuck me, I want you to be in your true form.”

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bangtangalicious · 3 years ago

Text

death valley (m) | part 7

summary: welcome to death valley. once you’re in, there’s no telling whether you’ll make it out alive. a summer internship turns wild with blurry nights of dangerous men, dirty money, and extremely hot sex. you soon get caught in a savage game of greed, power and obsession, only to find out that you are the grand prize

pairing: ot7 x f.reader smut ft: yoongi x reader, seokjin x reader, hoseok x reader

genre: smut. yandere. mystery. thriller. gang!au rockstar!au fightclub!au

wordcount: 9.3k

warnings: reader discretion advised. multiple & explicit smut scenes, rough sex (smacking, manhandling, etc), very obsessive & possessive themes, manipulation, use of restraints (mouth), bondage (collar, leash), slight sadism kink, physical roughness, guns, heavy drug use/reference, breast play, mentions of addiction/addiction prone behaviors, unrealistic sex endurance levels (readers really out here banging), dubcon/coersive sex, reader uses humor as a coping mechanism, degradation, toxic relationships, yelling, crying, character death (or is it), oral sex, shower sex, technically cheating depending on how you look at it, daddy kink, praise, implied stalking, yoongi loves spoiling his baby girl, impreg kink if you squint, dom!yoongi (duh), dom!hoseok, dom!seokjin

a/n: i spent way too long on this HAHAHA

F L A S H B A C K--

The crowd roared as the fight came to a close. Jin stepped out of the ring reluctantly, someone handed him water while another man wrapped a towel around his shoulders. A soft ringing noise resonated through his ears, blood teasing the edges of his vision. He pushed everyone away to find his prep room. Sighing deeply, he looked down at his trembling hands. His body was on overdrive, he was getting desperate.

He placed his hands against the wall, unable to think straight with the way his heart was pounding out of his chest. He could hear the footsteps of someone stop in his doorway, not having to look to know exactly who it was.

“Do you have any coke on you?” Jin wiped the sweat off of his forehead with a towel, panting heavily, “Seriously Jimin. I’m gonna fucking lose my mind”

Jin had always been extremely unstable. It was in his personality to get aggressively addicted to things. Whenever Jin went too long without it, it was like he surrendered himself to a beast. Jimin liked to call it his maniac side.

“Can you stop thinking about getting high for one fucking second? We have a problem here” Jin hears a soft thud causing him to finally turn and look. Jimin had just dropped your unconscious body onto the hard floor.

“Well well. Who is this?” Jin crouched down and slid his fingers over your parted lips, digging his nail into the soft flesh until it began to bleed slightly. As you eyes slowly began to flutter open, a carnal desire coiled in Jin’s chest. He had never seen anyone quite like you before.

"Hi there cutie” Jin grinned, “What’s your name?” Your eyes were quivering with fear, something about your vulnerable state was so delicious to him. You glanced towards Jimin, only beginning to tremble even more.

“P..park Jimin” You gasped, “Oh my goodness! I...I love you. Wait no. I...sorry...I’m a huge fan” You rubbed your eyes. Jin’s heart trembled at your dazed expression. “Where am I? What’s going on?” He wanted to eat you alive.

Jimin joined Jin on the floor besides you “Well thank you pretty girl. It’s nice to meet you...?”

“Y/n” You introduced yourself, shaking his hand before turning to Jin, looking at him with your tempting, lustful eyes. Y/n. Jin’s head was pounding as the withdrawal began taking over him. He had never seen someone so beautiful in his life.

Jin had never found anyone else even close to catching his eye before. He would sit mindlessly on his phone while girls would be on their knees, gagging on his cock, waiting for the mind-numbing minutes until he could finally cum and leave. The prospect of a relationship, of love, it seemed otherworldly. Perhaps it wasn’t for him. He had drugs and that kept him happy. But you. You were a high he had yet to fully taste. Looking at you alone had him feeling a glow unlike any other.

“Hey” You said to him. Jin felt dizzy as you spoke, getting lost in your gaze, “You’re the fighter guy right? Jin?”

Hearing you say his name had him bucking forward, trying to hide his growing erection from the famous star who was by his side. “Yeah. Hi. Great to meet you”

Jimin got up, brushing the dust off of his pants, “I’m getting out of here” He grabbed his jacket from your arms, “Jin, please search her address and get Y/n home.” Jimin reached into his back pocket “These should make her forget” He slid a pill into your mouth and you swallowed obediently.

Jin began to break a sweat, watching the way your lips sucked in the small capsule and gulped it down it so nicely. Jimin left without another beat, leaving you in Jin’s arms, your eyes getting heavy with each passing second.

You blinked, eyes wide with uncertainty as Jin held you close. “You can take me home?”

Jin nodded, “I need to do something really quick first” He slid his hand down his pants to begin palming his erection. His vision was turning blue as his headache began to spread. “God you’re so pretty” He grabbed your jaw, ensuring that you couldn’t look anywhere but his face.

Jin felt like his mind was running miles a minute. You looked so cute and helpless. He wanted to tear you to pieces, he wanted to see you bruised and battered, splayed out for him to ravish you as he pleased.

Was it wrong? Was it wrong that he wanted to shove his cock in your mouth while you slowly lost consciousness? In the moment, nothing made more sense to him.

Your pretty lips, your sweet eyes, how could he not? Your lips trembled, eyes half lidded, rolling back slightly as you fought to stay awake.

“Oh fuck oh fuck. Don’tttt...don’t fucking look at me like that Y/n. If you look at me like that I’m gonna--gonna--ohhhh baby, fuck what are you doing to me” Jin gasped loudly as cum spilled all over his palm.

P R E S E N T D A Y--

Amongst the sweet bliss of your dreams, a current washed over you and reality had your eyes opening. Your heart felt heavy as your vision focused in on the dry walls that continued to encage you. Your body pulsed with soreness, reminding you of the previous nights events.

To say you were upset would be an understatement, but you were shocked more than anything. You had never seen Jin act so unhinged before. It was almost as though he quite literally couldn’t control himself, the thought alone bringing a bitter taste to your mouth.

Before you could decide on whether to give him a piece of your mind and reprimand his behavior, you hear him wincing with pain across the room. He lay leaned against the wall, sweat trickling down his muscles from the heat. His head tilted back in a soft groan, dark hair now extremely tangled and messy.

“Are you okay?” You got up with a start. Jin exhaled before shaking his head in defeat.

“No, my leg still really fucking hurts. I feel like absolute shit right now” He punched the side of his fist into the ground in frustration. “I feel like I’m going insane”

You couldn’t even begin to imagine his pain. At least you got to leave the cell for some time, he had been here all along. Alone. Wounded. It was just awful. Yoongi should have had the courtesy to take him to the hospital, but then again did Yoongi even have a courteous bone in his body? You were no longer sure.

“It just sucks too because I’m trapped here, helpless, and all I can fucking do is feel this pain” Jin's jaw clenched. "And I’m sorry for last night I just...you were just there, so close. I just couldn’t help it. I could finally forget the pain even if it was just for a moment”

“It’s okay, I understand” You knew that feeling far too well. Jin reached his arms out to you, pulling you to sit next to him. His hands trailed down your thighs as he looked at you intently. “You know, I don’t mind...if it helps distract you from the pain. We can” You cleared your throat nervously, heat rising to your cheeks, “I mean, just tell me what you need”

Jin’s eyes widened with surprise. “Really?” He asks, gulping, “You don’t have to”

“I want to Jin. Let me help. I’m half the reason you’re in this mess” You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Jin was extremely handsome, you had noticed that from the moment you saw him in the arena. With a body like that, your heart skipped a beat at what all he might have in store for you.

His fingers slid between your legs, making you gasp softly. He tickled your clothed cunt softly. He flattened his fingers, teasing your entrance before moving to your clit. Licking his lips, he sucked lightly on your ear. Your hips bucked up as a ticklish sensation shot through your body. You felt wet.

And you knew he could feel it too, as he drew his fingers away. “Can I?” He mumbled into your neck. You nodded, flustered and warm all over as he pushed your panties aside and began drawing light circles on your clit. You twitch at the sensations hitting your nerves. His other hand cupped your jaw tightly, turning your face towards him.

“Oh fuckk, Jin that feels so good” You didn’t know why you felt so horny, whether it was the morning or the temporary relief from reality. Jin carefully slid one finger into your cunt, just barely, his delicate movements sending shocks of pleasure through your tired body.

Your pussy clenched down on his finger, and he growled. Pulling out, he popped the finger into his mouth before sighing, “Can I tell you what I want?” You could hear a slight tremble in his voice, “Will you do anything for me?”

You choked on your own breath, nodding dumbly as Jin’s gaze flashed with desire. “Get on all fours over me. Wanna spank that pretty ass”

Jin was taken aback at your willingness. You obeyed so well, his hands kneaded your tender flesh, enjoying the view of your ass sticking out for him. You winced as you felt his palm smack against you hard, making your knees tremble with pain and pleasure.

That’s for sleeping with Jungkook. He smacked again, with full force. He knew it stung. He could hear the pain in your pathetic whimpers and he loved it. And Hobi. Smack. And Jimin. Smack. You cried out as the impact caused you to fall forward onto your chest. And Yoongi.

Your ass was flushed, as he tenderly rubbed over the bruises he had so generously given you. He leaned forward, letting his tongue glide over the soreness before playfully biting down.

“Jin...that hurts” He ignored you, proceeded to slide down his pants, his turgid length already incredibly hard. He tugged at his cock quickly, the sounds of his slippery pre-cum barely noticeable under your soft moans.

“Sit on my cock. Nice and easy, lean back on me” His cock twitched as you turned your head to look back at him briefly, your eyes glossy from the pain, but full of curiosity nevertheless. You crawled back over him to line his cock with your soaking cunt. Jin grabbed your hips, helping ease you down onto his length.

“Ah...ah...” His size stretched you out, pussy swallowing him in. You cursed, eyes rolling back. He wanted to see your face, see how fucked out you would look as he gave it to you so good.

“Quiet, he might hear us.” He carefully tugged off his shirt from your body with your help, then used it to cover your mouth. He pulled the knot tight, the fabric tugging at the sides of your mouth uncomfortably.

His hands stroked over your bare chest quietly, humming in approval, “That’s a good girl...gonna be all quiet for me now right?” His cock twitched inside of you as he heard your muffled voice. His fingers weaved through your hair before he clenched his fist, making you wince. He pulled your head back as he thrusted up into your soaking cunt “Hear that? You’re loving this aren’t you, you fucking whore”

He grabbed your neck, holding it in a tight grip as he pounded up into you. He no longer cared if he was being too loud, he moaned at the top of his lungs. You felt so good. Your pussy welcomed his cock like it was meant to be there, so slippery and warm for him to just fuck over and over and over again.

He couldn’t hear you softly plead for him to let you breathe over the sounds of his own cursing. He didn’t care. If you passed out, you deserved to. Your body was his for the taking, it had to learn. You said yourself you would do what he wanted. He needed this. It was the least you could do for all the trouble he’d been through for you.

He let your neck go, and as you gasped for a saving breath, he felt your walls leak all over him. Your muffled cries sounding like music to his ears. Your whole body was shaking from pleasure.

His gaze fell onto your back, sinking his teeth onto your scars. You winced loudly as he marked you, his knife wound from the previous night still stinging and tender with pain.

Grabbing your head again, he pushed your face down onto the ground. You thrusted your hips helplessly, feeling your orgasm approaching as the cold floor pressed painfully against your nose.

“Wait..wait...I’m so close” Your words were intangible through the cloth. You were humping down on him so desperately he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. There, in front of him with your ass bouncing from how feverishly you wanted to cum all over his cock, he was in heaven.

Jin felt your heat melt as you came, screaming in ecstasy against the restraint. You limply relaxed onto the floor as Jin continued to thrust up into you, holding your hips down tightly to dig deeper and deeper into your messy, dripping cunt.

Jin felt like his whole body would explode in pleasure. This was the peak. His life couldn’t get any better than this moment where he had you just like he dreamed. He wondered if it would always feel this good. Of course it would. It was you after all.

Your core clenched as the stimulation became too much. He looked into your eyes and could see the streams of tears staining your cute cheeks. It was that look. That pleading look that was begging him to stop. Jin came with a loud cry, tilting his head back as he smacked your locker back one final time.

Breathing heavily, he lifted you off of him, watching his seed leak out of you. You laid down onto your side, absolutely spent. He slid down to lay behind you, hugging you to him as he undid the mouth wrap with his teeth. He stroked your body tenderly, hands finding your breasts.

“Holy shit” You coughed, finally able to breathe air directly. “Officer Kim Seokjin, that was...wow”

Jin didn’t respond, he simply smiled, pinching your nipples causing you to squirm. That was nothing baby.

Taehyung hated being wrong. He hated not knowing and not having control of any situation. So when Yoongi was shaking his head, denying that he had caused all the recent chaos that had been keeping Taehyung up at night, he felt like he was going to tear the entire bar apart, floorboard by floorboard.

“Y/n had mentioned she was kidnapped. I didn’t hear about it from you so I figured it must have been Jimin, and that you made sure she didn’t really get hurt. It ended up with her opening up to me, so I wasn’t really too mad about it” Yoongi said calmly, sipping his drink.

“From the footage it looked like Namjoon and Y/n took the pills and blacked out. Hobi was drunk too, but when he sobered up he had gotten a call to take them to the warehouse. I figured you had told him to do that.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, “Why the fuck would I want to kidnap and beat up Namjoon? I need him healthy to fight. Don’t be such an idiot Kim"

“It wasn’t just that though. Jimin’s accident happened right after I sent you the video. I figured you were jealous”

Setting his glass down, Yoongi swiveled in his stool to light a cigar before leaning back casually “The video of Y/n and Jimin fucking? Please, I don’t give a shit”

“Well, then I told you that Jungkook showed her the lab and gave her literal heroin so I imagine you weren’t happy about that”

The smoke dissipated slowly from his lips. Taehyung frowned at the scent. “I wasn’t. But still, I didn’t stab him. I was with Y/n, taking care of her because I love her.”

Taehyung clenched his fists. He did not want to hear Yoongi go on and on about how much he loved you, he did not care. He wanted to know who was messing with his plans. Taehyung had things to do. He had operations in play. He couldn’t afford any mistakes.

“Is that all? Jimin’s album is coming out tomorrow so I need to get some rest” Yoongi scoffed suddenly, “Especially now that Jimin’s gone ahead and brought Y/n into the media’s eye. What a fucking idiot”

“How are you planning on dealing with him? Are you gonna kill him?”

Yoongi laughed. “Taehyung. Seriously. What is up with you these days? If I wanted Jimin dead he would be dead dumbass.” Yoongi clicked his tongue, “Like I said before, I’m not worried about her and Jimin. She hates him. I know she does.”

Taehyung was not expecting that at all. Not from Yoongi. He had seen Yoongi wrench out people’s teeth if they didn’t pay him. He had seen Yoongi shoot innocent people, not even noticing when Taehyung had to turn around and puke his guts out because of it. But looking at the powerful man besides him now, he could barely recognize him.

“Just find out who was giving Hobi those orders and kill them. I don’t care who it is, just kill them. I don’t even want to know. I don’t have time for this”

Taehyung pursed his lips, “Yoongi, you know that Jimin does really like Y/n too, right? Like, he might be falling in love with her.” Yoongi gave him a look indicating that he was not taking him seriously, “I’m serious! I’ve never seen him like this and I’m surprised you aren’t more worried”

“Taehyung. Do you think I’m dumb?” Yoongi’s expression shifted to one of annoyance, “I knew what I was doing when I offered her an internship. I knew what I was doing when I signed Jimin on, knowing full well how much of a fan she is. Of course I knew she would pursue him. I needed her to see for herself, what a bratty piece of shit that man is. I knew she would hate him Taehyung, killing him would mean she might still care. She might still have feelings for him. That’s not what I need. She can only love me. I have to show her I’m better than him”

Yoongi took another puff of his cigar before continuing, “Now, I’ll admit things got fucked up when fucking Namjoon kept on bringing her to Death Valley. Idiot doesn’t take a fucking hint.”

Taehyung gulped down the rest of his drink before slamming the glass on the bar top. “Another please” He waved to the bartender. “I can take Jin off your hands now. He’s seen your face, but he might know stuff so it could be good to keep him alive” Yoongi simply shrugged, setting his cigar aside.

“I don’t care what you do with him. I want her alone tomorrow. I’m coming clean”

The next morning, Yoongi brought Taehyung back to the apartment. Taehyung lifted Jin out of the cell and claimed to be taking him to a clinic. After they left, it was just you and Yoongi.

Yoongi crouched down and extended a hand to you, not wanting to come too close. He knew you were upset with him. He could feel it.

“Morning my love” His voice was songlike, eyes pleading as he looked at you, an absolute mess on the floor, like you were his whole world. “Come on, let me run you a bath. I’m sorry”

You knew if you looked at him for too long you wouldn’t be able to resist. But after everything you had just heard, you wanted to just be alone.

“I’ll explain everything. I promise, I don’t want any lies between us” Reluctantly, you took his hand and he pulled you up into a hug. You teared up at his embrace. You could feel the simple adoration through his touch. You could have just melted into his arms.

Leading you out of the cell, he sat you down in the kitchen while he went to draw a hot bath for you. “Will you be joining me?” You asked him dryly, attempting to put up some attitude in whatever way you could.

To your surprise he shook his head, “No. I’ll wait till you’re done. Enjoy yourself” You frowned slightly, knowing a part of you didn’t want to hear the answer. “If you need anything just call for me okay?” He took your hands in his, kissing them gently. “After, I want to give you something. I’ve put some clothes for you on the dresser inside”

“Wait” You gasped, taking in his presence fully. “I’m sorry a...about Jimin and the media”

Yoongi shook his head, “It’s not your fault. It’s like you said, he’s just a typical rockstar” The two of your shared a small laugh. You realized then how rarely you had ever seen Yoongi smile. It was a beautiful smile, and you hoped to see it again.

You stepped into Yoongi’s bathroom. It wasn’t very large, but it was very high tech. A modern tub lay with soft white suds dancing over it. You grinned inwardly as you saw how he had laid out a blunt and a lighter for you. The water smelt of lavender, and was just the right temperature as you stripped down and slid in. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply while appreciating the moment of peace. The eye of the storm. Inside you knew that this might be the only break you would get. Jimin’s album was coming out tomorrow. You had no idea what to expect.

“Yoongi” You called out, tilting your head back and sinking into the tub deeper.

He appeared rapidly, not really reacting to your undressed state as he knelt down by the tub, “Everything okay?”

“Stay here” You moved your arm out of the water, soap dripping onto the tiled floor as you tilted Yoongi’s cheek towards you and kissed him deeply. “Join me” You gasped into his mouth, “Please”

Yoongi kept his lips on yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth. He missed kissing you so much. Not having you the past night had been incredibly hard for him. “No love. I need you to relax. I’m about to tell you some things today and...you might be scared.”

You whined against him, pulling him closer to you while he did little to resist, “But I want you” You pouted.

Yoongi rolled his eyes with a soft smirk, “I want you too love. Don’t stay in there too long okay. Then get dressed and I’ll be in the kitchen” With one final kiss on your lips, he backed away from you, and you slid back into the warm water.

Yoongi had set out a cute little sundress for you, one that was scandalously sheer, but nevertheless cute. The dress felt blissfully light on your body, a slight breeze fluttering up your skirt as you spun around in front of a large mirror.

You felt sexy, but most of all you felt free. You sighed heavily as you made your way to the kitchen, twirling around playfully before falling back into Yoongi’s embrace.

“Hey” You got on your tippy toes to allow Yoongi to plant a kiss on your lips from behind you, smiling into one another. There was that smile again. It made your heart melt like butter.

He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck, “Fuck love you smell so good. You look so good.” You giggled as you felt his erection press up on your ass “How can I control myself...” His words were breathless as his hands trailed down to the hem of your dress, lifting it lightly to reveal the frilly lingerie he had bought for you. He cursed under his breath, pulling your ass back against him.

“Ah ah! You said you were gonna give me something” You teased, getting your payback for earlier. Yoongi nodded, reaching into the drawer to bring out a box. He slid it onto the kitchen counter “Is this for me?” He nods as you excitedly open the box. In it is a pistol, with gold accents and your initials engraved onto the side with what looked like diamonds. Beneath the device was a magazine of matching color. You looked at Yoongi with shock.

“I had it made just for you. Do you like it?” His hands covered yours as he guided you to take the gun into your hands and load the magazine into it. “I hope you never have to use it. But I needed you to have something to protect yourself” He turned and pulled your wrists to aim the barrel against his heart. “You could even kill me if you wanted to”

You were at a loss for words, but Yoongi continued, keeping the gun in your hand aimed at himself “I’m not a good guy Y/n. I’m dangerous. That’s why I had Taehyung take you out of Death Valley that night and had to throw you into that cell.” He gave you so space backing away. You felt bad, knowing that he must be feeling anxious to reveal himself to you, despite you knowing exactly what he was going to say.

You tried to give him a comforting look, unable to move your hands from his steady grip, “I’m a gangster.”

He waited for you to react. You weren’t sure what to do, so you just parted your lips in feigned shock. Wow! No way! Really! You felt like laughing, but his gaze was so serious you stopped yourself.

"I have a drug syndicate. At Death Valley. The money I make from that I use to gamble. That’s why we have the fights. I have boys trained and bet money on them. We make millions through that but really it’s just power plays” He looks away from you momentarily, “Anyways, no one knows that I, Min Yoongi, am the one running things there, but still I have a lot of enemies. A lot of people would love to see me dead. To see me lose.”

“Since you’re my partner, you are a liability. I need you to be safe. Normally I’ll have someone from the gang accompany you wherever you go. You won’t know who it is so don’t worry about it, it’s just in case anything happens”

Partner? Since when? You frowned slightly at the label. Then again, this guy did carve his name into your skin. Maybe that was how big scary gangsters asked girls out these days, who were you to judge.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me okay” Yoongi finally took the gun from you and set it aside, “Me giving you this means I trust you. With my secret and my life.”

You began to feel flustered. You hadn’t even thought about what it would mean to actually date or be associated with a gang member, let alone a kingpin. Now the media thought you were dating Jimin, who was also conveniently high up in all this.

“I know it’s a lot” Yoongi said. “You can always ask me if you have questions. Now let’s get to work okay. Big day coming, I need my your expert opinion by my side”

The low growl of the engine was the only sound to be heard as Taehyung drove Jin to his own home. The world came still as he parked the car. Sighing heavily, he checked his radar before exiting the car, lifting Jin.

“You think you can stand buddy?” Jin nodded, and Taehyung slowly helped him find steady ground. He held Jin up, assisting him as they walked in through the back entrance to his basement.

A single lightbulb illuminated just enough for Taehyung and Jin to see each other’’s faces. Nothing more, nothing less. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he placed Jin into a chair.

“So it’s this Yoongi guy huh” Jin remarked. “And surprise surprise...you’re his little bitch too. Do your lips hurt from all the ass you have to kiss?”

“Oh please, Yoongi can go to hell for all I care.” Taehyung chuckled, surveying an array of knives that were displayed on the wall before his eyes settled on a small blade, curved ever so slightly. “I do need you to keep your mouth shut about me to Jimin though. If it weren’t for me, Yoongi would have let you rot in there”

Jin tilted his head, a small smile growing on his face as he understood the implications of Taehyung’s words, “I see. You’re plotting against both of them huh?”

“What’s I’m plotting is none of your goddamn business, Officer. So tell me, what’s it gonna take to keep you quiet hm? Money? More coke?”

“You know, I might be able to help you. You’re playing a dangerous game Taehyung. I know what you’re doing and I know how you plan on doing it. You’re using Y/n as bait. You’re using her to pin Jimin against Yoongi so you can sweep in and take over.”

Taehyung froze. First he smiled, then burst out into giggles before full on laughing. “It’s that obvious huh? Fine, hypothetically let’s say we work together. What’s in it for you?”

Jin licked his lips, “All I ask, is that when the dust settles, Y/n is mine. I know things Taehyung. I’m a cop after all”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and sighed, “Is that it?”

“And I get to kill them. My way”

Taehyung took a moment to think. “Okay Officer. You might just have yourself a deal.”

The clicking of the keyboard resonated through Yoongi’s office that was all but quiet as the chaos of an upcoming release had taken the whole building by storm.

He had you sitting on his thigh, hands around his neck as he would run final details by you. But with the way he would occasionally tap his foot, causing his leg to vibrate underneath you, you couldn’t help craving him more and more with each passing minute.

He wouldn’t react as you nibbled his ear, placed kisses on his neck. You sighed loudly, sexual frustration building up within you. Finally you slid down a strap of your dress, letting it, along with your bra, glide down your breast. You tried to pull his chin towards you but he was too caught up in reading the emails he had gotten.

You really did respect the guy. For whatever he is, he took his work...of all kinds...very seriously. That itself turned you on. “Yoongi” You cooed at him, causing him to hum slightly.

“Yes love?” He muttered, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Look” He finally surrendered to you, allowing you to turn his chin to see your perky breast in his line of vision. He was surprised, looking at you briefly before placing his mouth over you and suckling you roughly.

You bit your lip, his tongue felt hot as he rolled it around your nipples. He took his time, lapping away at you, digging his teeth and gliding his wet lips over the perked bud.

You buried your face into his soft black hair, his musky scent overwhelming you. Stuttering his name from your lips as he continued to suck your tit harshly, his hands trailed up your bare legs under the skirt of your dress to tug at the waistline of your panties. He let his fingers glide beneath the soft lace, teasing you.

Yoongi gave your breast a final sloppy kiss, before he let go with a pop, looking up at your fucked out face. He chuckled, bringing one hand to slide down your other strap and then tenderly squeezing your other breast. He rolled the tip between his fingers before placing his mouth of it.

Heat was coiling in your chest, soft whines leaving your parted lips. You moved from his thigh to straddle his waist, rolling your hips against his growing bulge. The friction shot pleasure through your core, making you leak with desire.

You were sure Yoongi could feel how wet you were. Nevertheless his focus remained on ravishing your breast. He left chaste kisses on your eager nub, nipping away as his mouth tenderly sucked, making sure to give it as much attention as the other.

His kisses then trailed between your breasts, traveling up to your neck where they became rougher. His movements tickled you, making you squirm as he kissed beneath your jaw, tilting your face back.

“Mmm that’s enough love, we can’t here” He mumbled. You groaned in complaint, panting with frustration as Yoongi’s lips left your skin and his hands pulled your straps back onto your shoulders. “I booked us a room somewhere special for a few days because our bedroom is still fucked up from the other night. We can have each other there, I promise, okay love?”

Yoongi was a man of taste. Being in the rock industry, he was used to things being grunge and edgy, but personally he always had a soft spot for excellence. That’s why, while maintaining the all black getup, he would dress in silk shirts, pure silver jewelry and diamond studded jackets.

He had picked a hotel not too far from the label, but one of the finest places in miles around. It was the same venue that would be the site of Jimin’s album release event the following night. Yoongi had booked out the largest suite in the building, wanting to show you the best night of your life.

And you had a feeling it would be, as you walked in to the large room, lit with purple LED undertones that complemented the fading sunset that was gleaming in through the expansive glass wall. On the bed was a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice.

“Holy shit” You mumbled, wandering around as Yoongi directed the bellboys to bring in the luggage. Yoongi insisted he would take care of all your needs when packing. He claimed to have someone go back to your apartment and grab some of your essential items, but also insisted in buying you new things. You had to admit, gangster or not, Yoongi really knew how to spoil a girl.

You leaned against the glass, peering out at the skyline, a bright coral pink even still. Yoongi came up besides you, tilting your face towards him to kiss you fondly.

“Can I pour you a drink love?” He sighed into your mouth. You nodded, watching as Yoongi pulled the champagne out of the bucket, popping the cork and pouring two glasses with ease. He hands you one, clinking his own against yours. You took a few sips, savoring the slightly sour bubbly liquid before setting your glass aside. Yoongi pulled you towards him by the waist.

“This is all amazing Yoongi” You wrapped your arms around his neck. He caressed your hips, swaying you against him almost as though you were slow dancing. After a quick peck to the lips he spoke again,

“I’ve been thinking about the future. How would you like to work for me full time? As a junior producer?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, “I...wow, I would love that, that would be the dream” Yoongi smiled, gliding his lips over your cheek, behind your ear where he began to leave small wet kisses. His hands trailed up your sides and he hooked his fingers under the strap of your dress, tugging it so the garment slid seamlessly off your body and onto a pile on the floor.

“Shit” Yoongi bit his lip, eying you up and down in your angelic lingerie. “Just missing one thing” You pouted as he stepped away from you, walking over to a cabinet to pull a studded black collar and leash from the drawer.

He wrapped the collar around your neck carefully, adjusting the strap so that it was nice and tight. He admired the way it looked against your skin, tracing and tugging on it with his fingers.

“Beautiful.” Taking the leash in his hand, he gently pushed you down onto your knees, stroking your cheek as you looked up at him eagerly. “You know what to do” He blew a kiss at you teasingly.

You began to unbutton his pants, sliding them down along with his boxers. Licking you lips, you took his length into your hands, stroking him slowly, looking up for his validation.

He groaned at your touch “Look at you hm?” His fingers harshly ran along your jaw, pulling playfully at your bottom lip “So fucking pretty”

He tugged your lip forward, prompting you to get your mouth on his cock, his other hand holding himself steady against the wall. You wrapped your lips around the tip, letting you tongue circle around.

Your breath hitched as Yoongi suddenly tugged at your leash, forcing his cock down your throat. You gagged immediately, but he kept your face pulled forward.

You flattened your tongue, allowing Yoongi to thrust himself against the slippery sensation. His cock filled your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You could taste the sour pre-cum against the rigid veins all over his girthy length.

He loved the way you took him, so messy. You slobbered all over his cock, the sounds of you choking and coughing like music to his ears. Your lips were swollen and fucked out, eyes bulging as you desperately tried to maintain yourself. Tears built at the corned of your eyes making him buck his hips. You were his. Like he had always wanted. He finally owned you.

You felt his cum shoot straight down your throat, causing you to gasp in desperation, cheeks hollowing enough to allow him to push even further down your throat. Once you surrendered to swallow, Yoongi pulled out, a mixture of cum and saliva dripping all over your face.

“Bend over, hands on the wall” He ordered through gritted teeth. He lined himself up behind you, sneaking a finger deep into your heat, relishing in the wet pool of your arousal and how you leaked out all over his palm. He pushed another finger in, pumping you furiously before his eyes narrowed in on your back.

You felt his fingers fall out, causing you to whine. A sudden tug of the leash pulled you back into his chest.

“What is this?” He growled, a finger gliding over the knife scar through his name on your back. You stuttered, the collar knocking the breath out of you. “Who did this?” He dug his nails into you making you wince.

“W..what are you talking about?” Yoongi turned you around and slapped you hard.

“You know what I’m talking about. Who marked you? Who fucking dared?” He was yelling loudly despite being so close to your face. You tried to turn away but he wouldn’t let you.

“I...” You gulp. If you told Yoongi it was Jin, he would definitely go kill him. You needed Jin to be alive, in fact you were hardly even sure if he was anymore. A part of you knew Taehyung wouldn’t actually kill him. He didn’t deserve to die, not for something like this. “I don’t know”

Yoongi glared at you, the fire in his eyes evident. He dragged you relentlessly to the bed, taking the leash and using it to tie your arms to your chest.

“You wanna play fucking games huh?” Yoongi screamed. You trembled, his demeanor beginning to scare you, “I’ll show you. I’ll fucking show you what happens when you hide something from me. You’re staying like this, locked in here until you decide to tell me the truth you got that?”

Tears were already streaking down your face as you nodded. Yoongi scowled at you before climbing in the other side of the bed and turning off the lights.

Hobi arrived at the banquet hall. Preparations were already being made. The hustle of his coworkers preparing for the album release press conference and the subsequent celebration.

A few people greeted him, but looking around he noticed an absence of a certain energy. Jimin was sitting on the stage, reading over his answer sheets while his make-up artists poked at his face.

Hobi didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about what he had done to Jimin. He never liked the guy, despite having to put up a cordial face around him. It was tough for him to help Jimin put songs together when he just wanted to wrench his guts out and put a bullet through his head.

He tried avoiding the star when he could, but Jimin sought him out “Hey Hobi c’mere” Jimin snapped his fingers, pushing away the people surrounding him. Hobi took a deep breath before approaching him.

“Have you seen Y/n?”

Hobi raised his eyebrows. He at first had not been sure if you would have actually been killed or not after Jin’s little stunt the other night. It was a relief to him when he saw you appear in the news at Jimin’s side, but he was confused.

“I figured she was here already. Maybe she’s with Yoongi” Jimin rolled his eyes, “That motherfucker, honestly. Did you know those two were hanging out because I fucking didn’t” Jimin hissed. “He branded her. Apparently they got really high, she said it was an accident but I dunno that’s a bit much even for Yoongi. You should have seen how pissed off he was”

“Hanging out?” Hobi asked curiously, “Y/n and Yoongi?” He felt his stomach flip uncomfortably. “Yoongi never hangs out with employees, let alone interns”

Jimin shrugged, “Can’t blame him honestly. She’s a temptress. I’ve slept with her a bunch of times and it just keeps getting better and better”

Hobi did everything in his power not to slug Jimin in his face, out of respect to the make up artists who had spent so long trying to make this bastard look presentable. “I know”

“You do?” Jimin grinned, “Right...you who almost dated for half a second there. Then Yoongi and his fucking rules came and blew it all up” Jimin playfully pushed Hobi’s shoulder, “Man. You gotta just claim what’s yours and say fuck em. Next time. She’s mine now though, sorry”

Hobi rolled his eyes, knowing full well that you loathed Jimin. Nevertheless, the spoilt brat had a point. When the fuck did Yoongi hang out with Y/n? It didn’t make sense.

Turning to one of the overseeing secretaries, Hobi questioned which room Yoongi was staying, intending to pay him a quick visit. The secretary gave him the room number, warning him that Yoongi had mentioned he might be unavailable in the morning as he had a few errands to run.

Hobi wandered through the hotel, heading to the elevator to arrive at the top floor with all the suites. When he arrived at the door, he noticed the sign on the handle with raised eyebrows. Nevertheless he knocked “Yoongi! It’s me? Can we chat for a bit?”

“Hobi! Oh my God Hobi help me! Get me out of here!” Goosebumps appeared all over him as your shrill voice leaked through the door, “I can’t move please”

His hands were trembling. What the hell was going on? He budged at the door but it was locked. Cursing under his breath, he pulled out his gun, taking the handle and using it to knock of the handle. He pushed through the door, swallowing thickly as he saw you, leash hooked up to the bed frame, hands tied, in such a sexy little lingerie set his heart felt like exploding then and there.

“What the fuck?” Hobi rushed over to you, untying you from your restraints and clicking off the collar. Your hands went to your neck, soothing the red marks that had appeared due to the tight hold. “Yoongi did this?”

You nodded “He was punishing me. He was gonna keep me locked in here” You wanted to cry but you couldn’t even find it within yourself. Hobi noticed how defeated you looked. He hated seeing you like this.

“Why?”

You looked into his eyes, sighing at the true ignorance. Hobi knew so little about everything you had been through, you didn’t have the heart to place the burden onto him.

“Can we just get out of here? Please? I need a fucking drink” He nodded, rubbing the pads of his fingers softly over the imprints of the tight bands on your arms. “Let me get changed. That motherfucker was gonna make me miss my first album release party,” You scoffed, laughing bitterly as you stood up, “I’ll fucking show him. I’m gonna look hot as fuck and I’m gonna be all over Jimin tonight”

Hobi blinked at you in amusement but said nothing as you marched off into the bathroom.

“Come on” You called back to him, curling your finger to motion him towards you teasingly “Are you really gonna pass up the chance to fuck me in the shower?”

“Damn, you’re really something” Hobi mumbled, unable to hide the blush that grew on his cheeks.

You didn’t bother taking off your underwear, you could see how turned on Hobi was from seeing you just by the gleam in his eye. You playfully bounced into the shower, turning the water cold. The white lace on your body dampened, making the coverage practically negligible.

Hobi almost choked seeing you. You tilted your head back and let the water fall directly on your breasts. You could hear the click of his buckled as he undressed himself quickly to join you.

“Shit this is cold” Hobi touched the water before sliding into the glass cube behind you. You turned around to face him, smiling mischievously. “Can daddy clean me up?” You pouted at him, winking. Hobi rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Y/n” Hobi pulled your hips forward before lifting you into his arms, “You’re such a slut for me aren’t you? All you fucking want is daddy’s big cock is that it?”

You nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Want your cock” You slid your hand down his chest, biting your lip.

“Of course you do baby” He pressed your back against the glass, the ice cold water hitting his back as he rolled his hips into you. His hand snaked around beneath you to push aside your soaked panties and touch your throbbing clit. “Look at me baby. Does that feel good?” He began to rub small circles, watching the way your body responded to him.

“Y...yes” You groaned, burying your face into his wet hair, nails digging into his back as you held on tight. Hobi grunted, gliding his finger back to trace along your folds.

“So fucking needy baby. No one fucks you as good as I do huh?” Hobi’s hot breath tickled your ear. “You missed me didn’t you, you slut. Only I know how you really like it” He pushed one finger in “Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, a sobbing mess of moans muffling into his neck as he rapidly pumped his finger into you, “Yes” You exhaled, “Want Daddy. Only want Daddy”

“I know. Oh, you poor little thing” He shoved another finger in, making you mewl as he stretched you out, “Do you think about me huh? When Jimin’s ramming his cock into do you think about me?” Your pussy clenched down at his words, “Did you fuck Yoongi too? Our boss, god you are such a little whore aren’t you?”

He slid in a third finger and you began to scream out in pleasure, “Oh fuck Hobi yes, right there right there” You panted heavily, “More...please” The mention of Yoongi’s name had you leaking all over.

The thought that he could just come back in at any moment had you falling apart. He would look so fucking angry. He would probably kill Hobi on the spot.

Why did that turn you on so much?

Heat pulsed through your body. Hobi slid his fingers out, spanking your pussy before sliding you down onto your feet.

“I missed you” Hobi said weakly. Your eyes softened. You knew you were taking advantage of him. You knew your heart was really elsewhere, as much as you wished it wasn’t.

“Kiss me” You didn’t want to think, you cupped his face bringing it to yours and pressing your lips against his. You poured yourself into the kiss, the roll of your hips matching the way your lips wrestled one another.

Hobi deepened the kiss, pining your wrists above your head. He gasped as he pulled away, staring darkly into your eyes, “Do you want Daddy’s big cock?” You nodded, his lips barely inched from yours “Yeah? Want Daddy to fuck you good? Fill you up with his cum? Fuck his babies into you huh? You want that?”

He turned you around, hand gripping under your thigh to prop your leg up onto the sliding shower door handle. You winced at the stretch but Hobi didn’t react. You feel him slap his hot cockhead against your ass. Holding your hips steady, he slid his cock into you easily. Your slick inviting him in deep into your throbbing heat. You whimpered as his dick pushed through your walls, filling you to the brim.

“Good girl” He growled, “Such a good warm little pussy for daddy, such a good fucking girl oh goddd” He slowly pulled out before thrusting back in. His pace was excruciatingly slow, but the burn of him pumping you in and out felt so good.

“Fuck I’m close Daddy” You were practically drooling, lips parted in pure bliss as Hobi fucked you deeper and deeper, your head slamming against the glass. “Want you to fill me up daddy. Want your cum” You whined.

“You feel so fucking good baby. Go ahead and cum,” Hobi kissed you again “Cum for Daddy, come on” He quickened his pace as he felt your tight walls begin to twitch around his cock. He could hear your wetness as he pistons into you under your breathless screams.

“I’m gonna cum Daddy..I..I..” Your eyes were clenched close as you let out a high pitched scream, your hot arousal dripping all over Hobi’s cock as your walls squeezed him tight. He bucked his hips as you came, groaning as he tried to fuck you through it.

“Shit.” Hobi cursed under his breath as he felt himself come undone immediately after, his sticky cum shooting deep inside of you. “God that was so good” He sighed, landing a lazy kiss on your lips.

You sighed, savoring the small aftershocks of arousal that had you trembling in his embrace. Enjoying the final momentary pleasure before the wild night ahead of you.

Jimin stood outside the banquet hall and tightened his tie. There were only a few more minutes until his album officially came out. Fixing loose strands of his hair, he sighed. He wanted you by his side but you were no where to be seen.

“Jiminnnn” The pitch of your voice gave you away easily. Jimin glowed in anticipation of you. His heart stopped as you arose from the hallway. You looked absolutely stunning in a classy sleeveless pantsuit.

“Baby” You giggled. Jimin frowned slightly, noticing how you stumbled into his arms before giving you a peck on the lips. “Are you excitedddd?” You slurred your words. “Everyone’s gonna loveeeee your music”

He inhaled your scent, scrunching his nose as he recognized the stench of whiskey on your breath. “Baby. You’re drunk”

“Come onnnnn, everyone is waiting for you at the party” You tugged at his tie. Jimin sighed, he couldn’t help but surrender to your cuteness despite his gut telling him not to bring you there.

“Jimin...this is my dream.” You giggled, almost losing your balance before Jimin caught you into his arms. “I’m Park Jimin’s girlfriendddd” Jimin dragged you outside slowly, sheepishly bowing to the other people who began giving the pair of you dirty looks. “Hey!” You yelled suddenly, “I’m Park Jimin’s girlfriend! I love him!”

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat. “You...what?” He began trembling, an overwhelming flush of emotions seizing him. “Really?”

You nodded, a big teethy smile on your face. Jimin blushed. “I...” She’s just drunk. He sighed. “Come on baby” He wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you down to the banquet hall.

The venue was gorgeous. It had a red and black theme that matched Jimin’s album cover. Champagne was being served at every nook and corner. The room broke out into applause as Jimin walked in, you glued to his side.

Jimin’s eyes scanned the room looking for Yoongi. He was no where to be seen.

Jimin waved to his guests, thanking them for the cheer before he turned to you. He stroked your face, gazing into your glittering eyes with nothing but adoration. He felt his eyes tear up as the thought occured to him that maybe it really was you.

He had written so many baseless love songs, songs about yearning, song about searching for someone to make his life worth it again. Maybe it was you. Were you his happy ending?

His mind wandered to what could be. What might be if he marries you, you go on tour together, making love in every city over the world. You would be his biggest fan, his lifeline, and he would love you endlessly. He wanted that. So bad. Did you?

He twirled you around before dipping you down princess style and kissing you passionately. The room burst into cheers as you smiled into one another.

“Sir” One of the staff members tapped on Jimin’s shoulder urgently, “Sorry to interrupt, there’s something you should know” The staff member leaned in to whisper something into Jimin’s ear. You watched as his eyes went wide with shock.

“I...I need to go. Excuse me” Jimin pardoned himself from the crowd, rushing out of the banquet hall. You followed him.

“Jimin! What is it? What happened?” You held onto his arm.

“He’s dead” Jimin muttered, “Fuck. SHIT. He’s dead”

Your heart dropped. “Who...?”

“Taehyung. Taehyung is dead”

ᐊ——[ previous ] series navi | masterlist | [ next ]——ᐅ

a/n: i hope this makes up for how shitty part 6 was ahahaha. gosh i must have rewritten this like 4 times. but yeah drop those theories in my asks bbs <3 who killed tae? where’s yoongi? what’s jin up to? joon and kook will be back in action in part 8, next week dw ;)

also that detail abt jin not listing you fucking taehyung when he’s spanking you is intentional

taglist: @imluckybitches @gee-nee @missseoulite @hcneybees @kooookie @queenmasterxx @crustycaitlin @virgo-and-libra @un2-verse @winter-melontea @equivocacies @infernal-alpaca @shrimpmsg @meowmeowyoongles @rjsmochii @liltangerined @littlrmills14-blog @issysor @arandomblackgirl @adoringinsanity @giadalin @jeontier @kaithezaftig @jinssexytoe @nonnis97@minyoongiboongi @happygirl62304 @just-me-and-myselfs @purplepebbles @channiespup @lilacdreams-00 @kianam @thmrdrs @kpoppin-mel @namjooningelsewhere @lolzerss @planetsope @ohmykim @xyahrinx

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Text

‘twas a lark (or a nightingale?) - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 ¦ Chapter 2 ¦ Chapter 3 ¦ Chapter 4

I am still at it...

@eunoiaastralwings, @mismaeve,@self-conscious-author, @heilith

And anyone else who likes soft, dear Lindir :D

Words: 1,7

Warnings: jealousy

“Hello doll,” Legolas leant against a sparkling hybrid sports car, clad in a tight dark grey suit, neither of them belonging to him, “father sends his best regards!”

He had started calling her ‘Dolly’ when she – a tad younger and therefor excused – had decided that ‘Golly’ would be an acceptable name for the tall, lanky boy – all knees and elbows – who was her first companion and friend in this world.

Lú was still doubled over – unable to catch her breath – when he strolled over casually and simply lifted her from her feet.

“Who did your hair?” she wheezed, running her hands along the silky-smooth strands that danced in the light breeze. It was perfectly sleek, a result obtained by taking great pains, and she knew for a fact that Legolas usually was not inclined to do so himself.

“Shut up, dolly,” he grunted and set her down beside the car, “I was making an effort to impress our competitors.”

Lú flinched; she had almost forgotten that she had originally been sent here to dig up spicy details and unearth secrets; a very poor spy she would have made indeed.

All that came to her mind in that second were Lindir’s pretty eyes and Ann’s amazing sense of humour; she thought about how kind and gentle Elrond was and how much she enjoyed the hearty food that drew its inspirations from different cuisines all around the region.

“Let’s go,” she mumbled, feeling like a traitor twice over and eager to clear her head during the drive down to the mall.

Lindir couldn’t help himself, he had rushed to the hallway window on the first floor to witness Lú's departure; he knew that she’d be back the next evening, but – for some absurd reason – he couldn’t help the knot in his windpipe bobbing almost painfully as he saw the beautiful car speed away.

The battered classic slumbering under a plastic sheet beside the small cottage he owned looked rather shabby in comparison to that sleek, purring beauty on four wheels, he had to admit.

Legolas himself – famed and sought after as far as he knew – was another thorn in his side; the tall, slender man who had swirled around his girl with such enthusiasm and visible intimacy was of a rare and elegant beauty that made Lindir weak with envy and self-loathing.

That asshole customer would have ended up thanking his lucky stars if his rude remark had really earned him a kiss from someone possessing such an otherworldly level of sheer pulchritude, no doubt, but – of that much Lindir was sure – nobody would really dare speak of Thranduil’s golden son in the way they casually disparaged him for sport.

Oh, how had he ever believed that he would be able to compete with someone like that?

The way she had smiled at him – unguarded and pure – cut through his own sheltered heart like a butcher’s knife; he knew that he was not an easy man to talk to or get to know, but he had hoped that – in time – Lúthadis would learn to see behind the walls he had built up stubbornly until he couldn’t see over them anymore himself.

Nobody has that kind of time, you fool, he chided himself, and you are hardly worth the effort.

Tortured by his own mind twisting what he had seen into barbs more cutting than any customer’s words could ever be, Lindir decided to drown himself in work to avoid thinking about Lú and her knight in shining armour any longer.

Ann’ realised that something was wrong as soon as he entered the dining room; she knew that he could be secretive and private, but Lindir was seldom cross or outright grumpy.

Tonight though, he was short-tempered and easily displeased which was so unlike him that it gave rise to honest concern in her heart.

“So, tell me, what are they like?” Legolas – his shopping bags shoved negligently under his bed and his hair now stuffed into a messy bun – balanced on the windowsill and looked at Lú expectantly.

He had missed his sister and best friend, but he could also see that something had changed during her time in Elrond’s house; it felt as if a part of that cocoon of puerile naïveté had flaked off and her true colours – bold and vibrant – were starting to shine through.

Tenderness turned her eyes into warm lagoons of green fire as she talked about the girl she had met the first evening and the many small problems she had encountered and solved in her short time at her new job.

“What about the man standing by the window and staring at you as if you were leaving with his whole heart?” Legolas asked, for he had not missed the dark figure hovering like a forlorn ghost above them when he had picked up Lú.

“What man? What did he look like?” she asked, trying hard to sound as casual as she could.

“Tallish, dark-haired, angel-faced,” Legolas counted on his fingers, “you know exactly who I am talking about, I can see it in your eyes. Spit it out!”

“Lindir,” she whispered, “he’s my supervisor and one of my housemates. He’s a good sort.”

She grimaced as if she had bitten on a lemon unexpectedly as she heard herself repeat those platitudes she had been served on her first evening; Lindir was so much more than just a good sort.

He was considerate and respectful, a good worker, a fair superior, and a delightful presence around the house; he also had an enchanting singing voice – for he often sang in the morning when he was making breakfast while she habitually offered song or two in the evening to lull everyone to sleep – and a smile that could light up a room.

“Don’t give me that crap,” Legolas snorted, “do you sleep with him?”

“LEGOLAS!” Lú exclaimed and threw a pillow at him; unfortunately, he caught it mid-air and let it drop to the floor in a very anti-climactic gesture.

“No,” she then answered when he waited patiently for her to do so, “he’s my boss.”

“But you’d like to?” Legolas went on, smoothing his hands over his messy hair in a gesture of nervous anticipation that was as familiar to her as her own tendency to bite her lip.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly, “maybe? He’s handsome enough to die for, but – most importantly - he really is quite precious.”

And – now that the dam was broken – she told him about the customer and the subsequent silent suffering in Lindir’s eyes; she narrated their life together and enumerated all the tiny things he did to make the girls’ lives easier and more pleasant.

“He certainly sounds great,” Legolas had to agree, “but I’ll have to do a background check on him anyway.”

“The food over there is lovely,” Lú said hastily as an idea struck her like a lightning bolt, “and I’m sure you’d love the meat pies! Why don’t I book us a table for tomorrow night? That way, you can drop me off earlier and you’ll get to meet Lindir.”

Legolas narrowed his eyes at her; she had never tried to introduce anyone to him or to Thranduil before and so, he was suspicious and excited at the same time to learn that she was convinced enough of this Lindir-person to actually want her family to meet him.

“I’ll call him later and ask for a table,” Lú whispered and took a deep breath

“It’s late, Lúlu,” Legolas replied with a chuckle, “the kitchen is closed and all.”

“Lindir knows his seating plan,” she contradicted with a soft smile, “he’s a brick like that.”

“What the ever-loving hell is wrong with you today?” Ann’ cried out as soon as the door fell into the lock behind her and Lindir; it had been a bad night, she couldn’t deny it – with customers behaving like clowns and staff slacking – but they had seen worse.

“What do you mean?” Lindir asked, hiding behind his usual mask of disinterested and dispassionate patience.

“Didi, don’t give me that shit!” Ann’ hissed, “What is going on? You’ve been acting as if someone had shoved a lemon or a cactus up your ass all night long! Is this about Lú going home for one, one single, day?”

When his eyes widened and then shifted away, she knew that she had struck gold.

“Have you seen that dude?” he murmured in such a low, trembling voice that Ann’ barely understood him.

Oh, that’s where the problem lay, she thought as soon as his words made their way through her fatigued brain; Lindir – the impassible – was jealous.

“Dude,” she grinned, nudging him in the ribs, “if you want the win the girl for yourself, you really have to be a bit more outgoing. You’ll need to show her what she’s missing out on.”

Lindir made a face and shook his head.

“There’s nothing I could show her,” he sighed after a long moment of Ann’ staring expectantly at him, “this is all I am. I…I’ve never dissimulated that I am socially inept and – moreover – about as exciting as a person and as a man as a dish cloth. There’s no hidden depth she’s not yet getting; there’s nothing more to me and we both know it.”

And how he hated himself for it.

Before Ann’ could rip into him though – for she knew that he had little confidence and was entirely blind to his own merits – his phone rang, and he stared at it for a few seconds.

“It’s her,” he whispered sheepishly; Lú had never called him, had never even sent him a single text since starting to work for Elrond before.

“Well, pick up, you idiot,” Ann’ laughed and went straight into his bedroom to not miss a single second of that – foreseeably – embarrassing and awkward conversation between the two people she considered to be her best friends at this moment in time.

Lindir hesitated for another few seconds but – just in case something had gone wrong and she needed help – he decided to do just that; he had many shortcomings, but nobody would accuse him of not having his staff’s back, even when they were off the clock.

As always, lots of love from me <3

I hope this is enjoyable & I'd still love it if you would leave a comment :D 💖

-> Chapter 6

#fanfic #fanfiction #the hobbit #LOTR #Lindir #Lindir x OC #Elrond #Thranduil #Legolas #family vibes #Modern!AU #Hotel AU #Romeo and Juliet reference for the title #Long fucking title too #FML #LOL #tension #romance

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kjack89 · 3 years ago

Text

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 5/?)

Continuation of the E/R Bridgerton AU, regency-era fake-marriage shenanigan-fest, and we’ve actually gotten to the marriage part! Or, at least, the wedding. (Chapter 1 tumblr | AO3, chapter 2 tumblr | AO3, chapter 3 tumblr | AO3, chapter 4 tumblr | AO3)

As much as this Author positively loathes to gloat, there comes a time when even the most modest among us must utter those four words everyone hates to hear: I told you so.

Both the Marquess of Enjolras and Mr. Grantaire emerged from their duel with not a scratch upon them and with the Marquess sworn to uphold the honor of Mr. Grantaire’s sister and rectify the situation he caused by joining her in matrimony. As befits the magnitude of the scandal, a special license has been purchased – for who knows what sum – so that the whole affair can be concluded before the Dowager Marchioness even has a chance to book a carriage out to the country to meet her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

Much to the relief of both the Marquess and his fiancée, this Author presumes.

Still, a wedding may signal an end to impropriety, but scandals are wont to continue of their own accord, especially when one can hardly imagine the Marquess settling quickly or quietly into married life. A storm is brewing, one way or another, but rest assured, Dear Reader – this Author will be here to cover whatever may come next. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 6 MAY 1831

Enjolras hated to admit it, but he was nervous.

He really hadn’t thought he was going to be, but as he stood at the front of the small, unassuming chapel dressed in the best clothes he could purchase on a moment’s notice from the village, his stomach felt like it was doing somersaults somewhere around his knees, and his palms were sweating so much that he was tempted to wipe them on his trousers.

Perhaps nerves were to be expected. After all, it wasn’t everyday that he got married.

Granted, the wedding itself was going to be a simple affair, just Enjolras with Madame Hucheloup in front of the vicar, whom Enjolras had met once, briefly, the prior day and who had been as drunk as Grantaire had promised, so much so that when Grantaire told him that Enjolras would be marrying his sister, the man did not even hesitate, despite presiding over her burial some two decades prior. He seemed equally drunk that morning, swaying slightly as he hummed off-key, waiting for the ceremony to start.

Joining Enjolras and his not-so-blushing fake bride would be Grantaire and Le Cabuc as witnesses, with only the four of them any wiser to the fact that the entire thing was a farce. Then the only final piece of the puzzle was getting a suitable dowry from Grantaire to give to his mother, and then, finally, Enjolras would be free.

Well, free until such a time came as when he would need to ‘bury’ his fake wife, but that was a future problem, and one he was not inclined to think too closely about at the moment.

Especially when he had much bigger concerns: particularly, the fact that Grantaire and Madame Hucheloup were running late.

He glanced over at Le Cabuc, who looked almost bored, and chanced a look back at the vicar, who didn’t seem at all concerned with the fact that time was stretching on and there was no sight of either of them. Enjolras was just about to excuse himself to go track down Grantaire and Madame Hucheloup himself when the woman in question appeared in the back of the parish, out of breath and – far more concerning – dressed in her usual clothes and not the wedding dress that Enjolras had dutifully purchased to continue the façade, clutching a valise assumedly containing other clothes.

Enjolras frowned and hurried to intercept her. “Beg pardon,” she said breathlessly, her face flushed red as if she had run the entire way from the house. “But there’s been a change.”

“A change?” Enjolras repeated, stupidly. “What kind of change?”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Himself is on his way, he’ll explain everything.”

Enjolras would have much preferred that she explain, but given that she looked like she was about to topple over at any given moment, he supposed the polite thing to do was to walk her to a seat before heading to the back of the chapel to await Grantaire and whatever explanation he brought.

So he did just that, depositing her in a chair before hurrying to the chapel door to intercept Grantaire and find out just what explanation he could possibly—

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Grantaire hurrying towards him, dressed not in his Sunday best as was anticipated but rather wearing, of all the garments in the world, the wedding dress.

Enjolras was certain his mouth fell open as he stared at Grantaire, temporarily unable to speak. There was a very small, distracted part of his brain that noticed that despite the dress not having been tailored for him by any stretch, it somehow fit Grantaire rather pleasingly.

He shook his head to clear it of that thought and wrenched his mouth open. “What in the bloody hell—”

“Language,” Grantaire chided, sounding stressed as he finally arrived at the door. “We are on consecrated ground, after all.”

It was a patently absurd thing to say, and accounted for Enjolras spluttering in response, “Yes, we are, so perhaps you can explain what in God’s name you’re wearing?!”

Grantaire drew himself up to his full height and scowled at Enjolras. “I’m wearing a wedding dress,” he said. “As for the reason I am wearing said wedding dress, which I believe is more to the point of what you’re asking, you should know. You’re the one who helped pass the damned thing.” Enjolras stared blankly and Grantaire elaborated, “The law was updated recently, requiring one male and one female witness for any nuptial ceremony.”

Enjolras had a sudden, horrible memory of celebrating a law passed through the House of Lords that was meant to help keep young women from being forced into marriage with their father and brother as the sole witnesses, an all-too-common occurrence. Granted, the efficacy of the law remained to be seen, since too many mothers were frequently willing to go along with such plans, but it was a start, and—

He shook his head to clear it. “And so Madame Hucheloup needs to be one of the witnesses,” he said instead, finally putting together the pieces to which Grantaire had been alluding in his usual, maddening way.

“Well, I thought about simply making up a woman’s name and forging the signature on the certificate,” Grantaire said, “but seeing as how I rather suspect that this particular marriage certificate will face more scrutiny than most, it didn’t seem a particularly wise course of action.”

Grantaire was almost certainly correct about that, but still Enjolras felt something like despair. “Was there no other woman that you could get to be a witness?” he asked, a bit desperately.

“Another woman whom I trust with my reputation, and far more importantly, with yours?” Grantaire asked, arching an eyebrow. “At this late of date?”

“Then someone who would pretend to be a bride for the day?”

Enjolras knew it was an idiotic question the moment he blurted it, and the look Grantaire gave him reinforced as such. “If I would not trust them to be a witness, what makes you think I would trust them to exchange marriage vows with you? Even if using a false name, I know not the legal ramifications and I would not have someone trying to take you for all your worth.” Enjolras blinked, fleetingly touched by the lengths to which Grantaire seemed determine to go to protect him – or at the very least, to protect his estate. “No, that was not an option. Meaning the only option available to us—”

“—Is you wearing the dress and pretending to be the bride.”

Grantaire grinned at him. “Personally, I think it looks quite fetching on me.”

As if to illustrate his point, he ran a hand down the bodice of the gown, a hand that Enjolras could not help but follow with his eyes as it skimmed the creamy fabric that dipped and clung in all the right places— “That is hardly the point,” he snapped, tearing his eyes away.

“No, the point is that the vicar, drunk though he inevitably is, will start asking questions soon, so it’s best we get this over with as soon as possible,” Grantaire said bluntly, his smile disappearing.

When he later thought about it, Enjolras could come up with no rational explanation for what possessed him to say it, but somehow, he found himself scoffing, “Quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Romance?” he repeated, exasperated. “Is now really—” He broke off without warning, and Enjolras was surprised to see his expression soften as he looked up at Enjolras. “Enjolras,” Grantaire said quietly, the exasperation gone from his voice and replaced by something gentle, something entirely unfamiliar that Enjolras could not quite put a name to. “What there is between us is the stuff of fairytales, of legend. What Helen felt for Paris, or Samson for Delilah, pales in comparison to the depths of my feelings for you, and were I to search every corner of this world I know that there is no one with whom I would rather share the remainder of my days. Will you do me the honor of joining me at the altar and becoming my husband?”

Enjolras couldn’t help himself – he snorted a laugh. “Very well, I suppose I deserved that,” he said briskly. “But I do hope you manage to find some actual sincerity when saying your vows, or even the vicar might realize this is a farce.”

He offered his arm to Grantaire, who took it after settling his veil over his face so that not even Enjolras could read his expression. “I’m beginning to think you wouldn’t know sincerity if it were to bite you in the—”

“Shh,” Enjolras hissed, and for once in his life, Grantaire fell silent as the two of them traversed the short aisle to take their place at the front of the chapel.

“Ah,” the vicar said, smiling at them both. “Welcome, welcome. We are gathered here today, in the sight of God and—” The vicar let out a loud hiccup and Enjolras bit his lip hard enough to almost draw blood to keep from laughing. He glanced sideways at Grantaire, but couldn’t tell if the man was as amused as he. “—and the witnesses gathered here,” the vicar continued, “to watch as the Marquess of Enjolras and the, er, the…”

He trailed off, clearly casting about for the proper title for Grantaire’s sister, and even though he could not see Grantaire’s face, Enjolras could clearly tell that he was rolling his eyes. “Mistress,” Enjolras supplied helpfully, as it seemed the most appropriate title.

“Yes, that,” the vicar said, nodding at him, continuing without pause, “and Grantaire join together in the bonds of Holy Matrimony. You may face each other and recite your vows.”

Enjolras obediently turned to face Grantaire, hesitating before reaching forward to lift the veil from Grantaire’s face as was tradition. After all, with the vicar no longer facing him head on, it seemed doubtful he would notice that the features underneath were decidedly male.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow as Enjolras lifted his veil, but luckily, made no comment, simply reaching out with his lace gloved hands to take Enjolras’s in his own.

The detour from traditional vows had been Enjolras’s only insistence when planning the ceremony, and he was doubly glad he had insisted on it now, since he was not certain that he would make it through if he had to make the usual promises of honoring and cherishing to Grantaire, especially with Grantaire looking at him like that. Instead, he had opted for seven simple words borrowed from the rather utilitarian vows made by some medieval French men upon joining their households in common purpose with each other.

“Un pain, un vin, et une bourse,” Enjolras said, the meaning as simple as the words themselves: one bread, one wine, and one purse, the three things he and Grantaire would now share, bonded as they were by this ceremony.

Grantaire tilted his head slightly, a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth. He had told the vicar that his sister would opt for equally simple vows, and had assured Enjolras that Madame Hucheloup would not surprise him. But Madame Hucheloup did not stand across from him now, and Enjolras knew without any doubt that Grantaire was going to say something else entirely, and he half-dreaded what words would possibly come out of Grantaire’s mouth. “Une vie et un amour,” Grantaire pronounced, and Enjolras was surprised that the breath seemed to catch in his throat at the simple words, an answer and a challenge to his own.

One life and one love.

Well, he had been the idiot who had asked for some semblance of romance.

The vicar was saying something else, but Enjolras seemed to have temporarily lost his ability to hear, staring still at Grantaire, at that small smile still on his face, trying to figure out why or how he suddenly had the urge to lean in and kiss that smile off of his face.

Without warning, the vicar cleared his throat loudly and Enjolras jumped before glancing almost guiltily back at him, but if the vicar noticed, he gave no indication of it, simply intoning, “What the Lord has brought together, let no man tear asunder. By the power vested in me by the King and by the Lord our God, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss—”

The words weren’t even out of his mouth before Enjolras had leaned in to press his lips against Grantaire’s.

It was over almost as quickly as it had happened, Enjolras pulling away before his brain had time to process what had just happened, or what he had just done, and he felt stricken as he scanned Grantaire’s face, looking for some reassurance that he had not made a grave error.

But Grantaire’s face was entirely unreadable as he reached up to again cover his face with his veil before turning back to the vicar, who was smiling at them both in a sort of genial, patronizing way that for some inexplicable reason infuriated Enjolras. Or perhaps it was just that Grantaire had dropped his hands and turned away.

Either way, as the vicar completed his benediction, Grantaire finally turned back to Enjolras, leaning in to tell him in an undertone, “Madame Hucheloup brought some clothes for me. I’m going to change and then we can return home.”

Enjolras nodded dumbly, tempted to ask how they would explain the sudden disappearance of Enjolras’s bride to any onlookers or the vicar himself, but decided it was not worth it. Especially since the vicar took his leave immediately upon the conclusion of the ceremony, mumbling something about being thirsty as he staggered past Enjolras and Grantaire, assumedly heading back to the rectory.

As Grantaire disappeared somewhere to assumedly change, Enjolras felt slightly aimless, milling about the chapel with nothing really to do besides sign the paperwork, which took about twenty seconds. Without any better option, he approached Madame Hucheloup, whom he reasoned had undoubtedly seen her share of weddings. “I beg your pardon for not asking sooner,” he started, “but is there something I’m meant to be doing for this?”

“Other than standing up at the altar as you just did?” she asked with a smile. “No, m’lord. Ordinarily you’d be greeting guests and such, and overseeing – which is to say, and begging your pardon for wording it such, paying for – the wedding feast, but seeing as how you’ll not be having any festivities…” She trailed off and shrugged. “Other than that, you’d be planning the honeymoon trip, I suppose, but again, I’m not sure what you and Himself have got planned there.”

She gave Enjolras a look that he couldn’t quite interpret and he shrugged as well. “Nor do I, I suppose,” he told her with a tight smile. “Very well. Thank you for your help. You and Le Cabuc can return to the manor if you’d like – Grantaire and I will be along soon enough.”

Enjolras wasn’t entirely sure he had any real authority to give orders to Grantaire’s household staff, but neither Madame Hucheloup nor Le Cabuc complained at the dismissal, simply taking their leave – and leaving Enjolras by himself and feeling, quite possibly, more aimless than before.

While his nerves earlier had been expected, this inexplicable feeling of being unmoored was not. Frankly, as the marriage and the wedding to precede it were both shams, he hadn’t expected to feel anything more than slightly embarrassed at the whole process. But embarrassment was really the furthest thing from his mind as he thought about how he had felt standing in front of the vicar with Grantaire.

It should have felt even more of a farce than just the fake wedding itself, exchanging wedding vows with a man. At the very least, he was fairly certain it was a sacrilege, or making a mockery of the sacrament itself.

And yet, it hadn’t felt that way.

Enjolras had never pondered his nuptials save as a thing to be dreaded, had never pictured himself facing some faceless woman and binding himself to her, so he had no frame of reference for how others might have anticipated feeling, but he wondered if others also discovered upon their wedding day that it just felt...right. Like something he was meant to do.

Were he more inclined toward the philosophical, he might’ve wondered if there was a deeper meaning he should be reading into that, or if this should inspire some deeper questions about fate or predestination, but Enjolras had never been one for such discussions, preferring to focus on the here and now, the tangible ways in which he could affect change. And he did not dwell on them now, instead shaking his head once more to clear it of errant thoughts before going to find Grantaire to see what could possibly be taking him so long to get changed.

He did not find him at all in the chapel and was about to give up and head back to the house alone when he caught sight of a lone figure standing out in the small cemetery next to the chapel. Even without being able to make out any of his features, he could tell it was Grantaire, and he frowned slightly before heading over to join him.

“Grantaire?” he called when he finally drew close, and Grantaire looked up, startled.

“My apologies,” he said, something like guilt flashing across his face. “I completely forgot I had offered to walk back up with you.”

Enjolras’s frown deepened, because something about Grantaire seemed off. Not just that he was back in his usual clothes, though that was certainly a brief disappointment to Enjolras, but something about the set of his shoulders and the tired look on his face. He glanced at the small, unadorned stone Grantaire stood in front of, sudden realization hitting as he read the name: Adélaïde Grantaire.

“My sister,” Grantaire said, unnecessarily. “I just wanted a moment with her. She—” His voice broke and he coughed, once, as if to try to hide it. “She would have been greatly amused by today, I think.”

“The idea of you in a wedding dress?” Enjolras guessed, aiming for levity.

But Grantaire shook his head. “The idea of me getting married at all, really,” he said with a short, dry laugh. “We used to joke about it, her and I, when we were small. She told me that a handsome prince would come along and save her from her suffering, and I would tease that I would marry a handsome prince, too, and we would be princesses together.” He shook his head again, but fondly this time. “Hence why she would get great amusement at my marrying a Marquess in her name.” His smile faded. “Sadly, there was no prince in this or any land who could have saved her, no matter how many stars she wished upon.”

Enjolras bowed his head in understanding. “May I ask how she died?” he asked quietly, hoping Grantaire would not think he was intruding. He had refused to talk about his sister earlier, but Enjolras felt like something had changed between them and he might be willing to say a bit more.

Grantaire just shrugged. “She was very ill for much of our childhood,” he said matter-of-factly. “She and my mother were stricken with fever at her birth – my mother succumbed to it. Adélaïde got better, so to speak, but she was never truly healthy. Then when she was nine…” He trailed off before taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It was quick, at least, in the end. Which was a comfort in its own way.”

Enjolras wished he had some eloquent words of comfort to offer, but he felt tongue-tied instead. So in lieu of words, he reached out and gently rested his hand on Grantaire’s shoulder, squeezing it once before letting it fall back to his side. Then he cleared his throat. “So she wanted to be saved from illness...what did you hope your handsome prince would save you from?”

“My father.” Grantaire flinched, whether from the words or from the memories they stirred. “He...he did not like me much. He was mostly indifferent to Adélaïde, but he seemed to find fault with everything I did.”

“He beat you.”

Enjolras said the words evenly, but his vision seemed to flash red in front of his eyes at the thought. Any parent hitting their child was a heinous thought, but for some reason, the idea of Grantaire as a child making desperate wishes to escape with his ill sister made his blood boil.

“Well, he rarely carried it out himself, but yes,” Grantaire said, his tone turning matter-of-fact again “And after she died, it got worse. Thankfully, when I went off to school, he was stationed abroad, and has never returned.” He snorted a humorless laugh. “God only knows how disappointed he would be if he could see me today, but I think he and I are both content to pretend the other does not exist.”

Enjolras was not so content, knowing that there was a man out there somewhere with such little regard for his own son, and it took him a moment before he could manage a response. “If he ever comes back, I’ll kill him.”

Grantaire looked sharply at him, searching his expression for a moment before his own softened. “A noble offer, but I don’t think we’re in much danger of that happening.” He nudged Enjolras lightly with his elbow. “Thank you, though.”

“It is the least I can do...as your husband.” Grantaire laughed and Enjolras hesitated before adding, “I promise this arrangement involving your sister, and now you, I suppose, will be only temporary. As soon as everything is handled with my mother, I will find us both a way out of this so that you can return to your memories of her in peace.”

Grantaire shook his head. “I rather wish you wouldn’t,” he said, as if confessing a secret. “It’s been surprisingly pleasant, sharing a devious plot with you. And...sharing this part of myself with someone as well.” He gestured towards his sister’s grave before giving Enjolras a hesitant smile. “Besides, I’m certain our friends would hate for us to return to our usual animosity.”

“Our friends can adjust,” Enjolras muttered.

Grantaire laughed again. “Even so,” he said, before adding, with a beatific smile and a fluttering of his eyelashes in what he clearly deemed an alluring way, “Besides, you can’t be rid of me so quickly. After all, we haven’t even had a chance to have our wedding night yet.” Enjolras blanched and Grantaire laughed once more. “Now come, it’s time we returned to the house before Madame Hucheloup sends a search party after us.”

They started off together, silence stretching between them for a few minutes before Enjolras remarked, off-handedly, “Do you know, I believe that was the first time you’ve called me by my name.”

Grantaire frowned. “When?”

“When you were doing your little mocking proposal.” Enjolras gave him a look. “Normally you call me ‘my lord’ or ‘Apollo’ or some other asinine nickname.”

“I’m sure I have called you by your name before,” Grantaire scoffed, but he didn’t quite meet Enjolras’s eyes when he said it.

Enjolras wanted to counter that, and drag the matter into their usual bickering as a way to pass the time, but something caused him to hold his tongue. And as they made their way back up to the manor, he could not help but notice that the time passed just as easily in companionable silence, and that their hands kept brushing against each other as they walked.

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #les miserables #fanfiction #chaptered #part 5 #bridgerton au #regency au #nobility au #canon era #fake marriage #wedding #death mention #implied/reference child abuse

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ga-yuu · 3 years ago

Text

~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 19~

Warning!! The story has strong language, gore, and attempted rape.

Chapter 18

-------Part 1-------

Kurama: “I’ll feel better when you’re out of my sight....because I want to get rid of this feeling in my heart.”

Yoshino: “.......I see.”

Kurama’s voice sounded as if he was condemning my sin, which I falsely attributed to a small smile.

Kurama: “But you and I will meet again on the battlefield. It would be easy to snuff out a dream....It might not be a bad idea to leave you under the cherry blossom tree on this day forever.”

(Eh?)

The wind blew harder than ever, causing petals to fly in the air.

A moment later I squinted at the momentum----Kurama gently turned his head towards me.

Yoshino: "Mm....."

Our lips meet and a sad moan escapes from my mouth.

We didn't know which one of us was melting from the heat.

Yoshino: "Mmm....haa....ahh.."

(....Why?)

His tongue slipped through the thin lips and tickling the sensitive areas.

He stimulated all the right places and my body was supported by his strong arms.

When I opened my eyes, my view was blocked by my messy bangs disturbed by the wind.

Yoshino: "Nnn...."

Our lips separated with a faint wet sound.

My hair was a mess and Kurama gently adjusts it without saying a word.

Kurama: ".............."

Our gazes intertwined and our wistful breaths touched.

Kurama: "I'd rather kill you than have someone else kill you. Until then, stay alive."

Yoshino: "........"

The words were too dangerous to be an expression of possessiveness and smelled too much of blood to be a confession of love.

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

1. I won't get myself killed...(+4/+4)

2. Kurama is the one who must not be killed.

3. No reaction...

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

Yoshino: "I'll do my best not to get killed..."

(For myself and for my friends...)

Kurama: "Good. I like that about you."

At some point, the residue of the withered tears was swept away by the wind along with the petals.

Kurama: "Yoshino. From now on....you're not my toy."

Yoshino: "......Mm."

I felt my heart tear into a thousand pieces, but I pretended not to know the pain.

Yoshino: "Because now....I'm Kurama's enemy."

I did not ask or speak about the meaning of that kiss.

.................

Time moves on, leaving stagnant thoughts behind.

Yoshino: "I think that's pretty much it for packing."

-------Part 2--------

Yoshino: "I think that's pretty much it for packing."

(Finally, today is the day I leave here.)

The Shogunate and the Rebels each have a system whereby only the messenger and a few soldiers as my escorts precede them to the battlefield.

(The Rebel messenger is going to take me and hand over to the Shogunate messenger on the battlefield....)

(Then, as soon as the two sides' main armies join up, the war begins, right?)

I gently looked at the shiny stone in my hand.

(As a member of the Shogunate I fight against the Rebels.)

Yoshino: "Kurama.....is going to kill me."

(I, too, cannot protect anything unless I am prepared to do so.)

(And yet...)

(I still have such a crush on Kurama.)

I gripped the stone tightly and dammed up the emotions that were about to spill out.

Yoshino: "...................."

And then, I stood up and I went out-----

..............

Yoshino: ".......I'm coming in."

I called out softly and opened the sliding door to enter.

I already had a hunch that the room owner----Kurama would be out.

(.....Forgive me, Kurama. For entering your room without your permission. I'll leave as soon as I've done my business.)

I apologize in my heart and kneel down on the shelf at the end of the room.

The shiny figurines owned by Kurama were carefully arranged and sparkled.

Yoshino: ".................."

I take out the shiny stone I picked up from the Otherworld and placed it between the beautiful ornaments to hide it.

The small white fragments glow dimly like the daytime moon.

(....If we can't let go of our memories, let's at least leave them behind.)

Yoshino: "Thank you for everything. .......goodbye, Kurama."

As I said those words, my vision again caught the shiny stone and it started filling my memories.

(Somewhere along the line, I naturally accepted that I was your toy.)

(I felt like that was a manifestation of your typical possessiveness.)

(By the time I got to the point where I wanted to be more than a toy, it was..... too late.)

I stood back up and left the room quickly...

I started walking without even looking back.

........................

-----On the same day, evening at Kyoto.

The mysterious light of twilight illuminated the beautifully furnished room.

Ibuki: "I've made you wait, Akihito."

Ibuki walks into the room and sees a young man sitting in front of him smiling languidly.

Akihito: "You have a bad habit to call people immediately and make them wait, Ibuki."

Ibuki: "Looks like you were busy playing with that."

Ibuki pointed to Akihito's lap as if to make fun of him.

He was comfortably beating his drum to pass time.

Akihito: "What else can I do here? Well, anyway..."

------Part 3------

Akihito: "What else can I do here? Well, anyway...Yoritomo has outwitted us all, hasn't he?"

A soft, unreadable smile crept across Akihito's lips.

Akihito: "I didn't think they'd take back the fox princess."

Ibuki: "Why are you laughing about it?"

Akihito: "Why not? You'll manage it, won't you? I sowed the seeds of evil, Yasuchika nurtured them and....Ibuki, it's your job to reap the harvest."

Ibuki: "Pain in the ass."

Akihito: "I thought you loved playing?"

Ibuki: "Okay okay, anything for you."

After a snide retort, Ibuki laughed and sat down next to Akihito.

----To discuss their future plans.

...............

Rebel soldier 1: "The sun will soon be gone. Let's start preparing the camp."

A rebel soldier riding in front of my horse looks back at me.

Rebel soldier 2: "Ah. Hey, are you feeling any better?"

Yoshino: "Yes, I'm doing fine."

As a prisoner of war to be handed over to the Shogunate, I have been treated with respect by the rebel envoys.

It was Yoshitsune-sama who gave the order to do so.

(Yoichi-san and Benkei also were sweet enough to see me off. It is as if they forgot I'm an enemy.)

------FLASHBACK------

Benkei: "I know you're gonna stubbornly say 'No' if I asked you to run away. But nothing can be done now, isn't it?

Yoichi: "We'll just have to hope that we won't run into you on the battlefield."

------FLASHBACK ENDS-----

(Those two also risked their lives to fight for Yoshitsune-sama and their friends.)

(I'm going to stand on the battlefield, so I should learn to face anything.)

On the back of the horse, I look ahead and think about the battle that lies ahead.

At that time-----

Rebel soldier 3: "Hm? What the....?"

(What happened?)

One of the soldiers suddenly looked at the mountainside on his right.

Yoshino: "......Sand dust?"

I gasp at the sound of many horses' feet galloping towards us.

Rebel soldier 1: "No way, an enemy attack!?"

(No way.)

Dozens of men jumped out of the slope and rushed towards us on horseback.

Enemy 1: "She's here! Get her!"

Enemy: *ROARS*

Rebel soldier 2: "Are they from the Shogunate!?"

Rebel soldier 3: "I don't think so. There's no point in making a surprise attack when we've already negotiated so much."

(That's right. So, who are these people....?)

Rebel soldier 1: "We can't let em hurt our prisoners..."

-------The oldest soldier turns to me.

Rebel soldier 1: "And you, follow me closely! Let's get out of here."

-------Part 4-------

Rebel soldier 1: "And you, follow me closely! Let's get out of here."

Yoshino: "Yes!"

The rebels soldiers lined up their horses around me and ran frantically.

I was followed by the shouts of my escorts and the clatter of horses' hooves.

........................

At the same time---Kurama, who was leaning on his side in his room, was playing with the silver crown in his hand.

Kurama: "I don't like it. The glow should be undiminished, but it's not."

As he put the crown reflecting the orange of setting sun, back on the shelf.

A similar sparkling object falls off.

Kurama: "........."

He picks it and was about to place it back, when-----

Kurama: "What the?"

Kurama frowned at the dimly shine of a stone, placed hidden in between his collection.

Kurama: "This is...no way...."

It's as if he's trying to hold on to a memory of someone who's just popped into his head.

Kurama cradles the small stone in his palm.

At that time-----

Yoichi: "Kurama!"

Suddenly, the sliding door of the room opens and Yoichi rushes in, breathing hard.

Kurama: "What is it?"

Kurama's gaze sharpens slightly at the unusual appearance of Yoichi.

Yoichi: "There's an attack. The Court's hands have extended to the party which was sending over Yoshino."

Kurama: "!!!!"

........................

(It's been a day. ....We've managed to escape, but.)

Rebel soldier 1: "It's not good. The horses are getting tired. I wish the enemy would give up for good."

We jumped into the mountains and tried to move along the ridge, hiding from our pursuers.

(At least if we knew who the enemy was....?)

At that time----

Rebel soldier: "Shit! They're here again!"

Yoshino: ".....!!"

At the same time as we turned around at the sound of the impatient voice, arrows poured down like rain.

Rebel soldier 2: "RUN!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs, and when one soldier tried to return the fire with his own bow, he was shot and fell from his horse.

I was about to reach out to him when another soldier tugged at my horse's hitch.

Rebel soldier 3: "Just run!"

Yoshino "..... Okay."

(If the enemy's goal is to catch me, I must never be caught.)

Keeping low, we sprinted along the beastly path, which narrowed the further we went.

............

(How long has it been, since I'm running....?)

Running like mad, falling down the mountainside, still running away, but.....

Rebel soldier 1: "They're catching up. We'll have to fight our way back!"

-------Part 5-------

Rebel soldier 1: "They're catching up. We'll have to fight our way back!"

The rebels soldiers started protecting me with their backs.

The rebel soldiers drew their weapons in unison and they glittered in the cloudy sky.

(.....I can't believe I can only watch like this.)

Enemy 1: "What can you even do with such a small number?"

The enemy smiled hatefully and stepped forward as if he had plenty of room.

Rebel soldier 1: "LET'S FIGHT!"

Rebel soldiers: *ROARS*

Enemy 1: "COME ON!"

Some shoot arrows, others wield white blades.

(But the number of soldiers on our side is too small compared to the other side. At this rate....)

The rebel soldiers, who are slowly retreating to fight back, are clearly in a bad mood.

Enemy 2: "Eat this!"

Rebel soldier 1: "Nn...."

(Ah.........)

A soldier was cut down in front of me and fell into the mud.

Rebel soldier 1: "Fuck...you should....go first. Go!"

The horse's rump is beaten and he clings to the reins.

Enemy 1: "Don't let her get away! Go, go----"

(....I'm scared.)

I winced as one of the arrows pierces my arm.

But still, I ran with all my might------

Yoshino: "Kyaa!!"

My horse lets out a high-pitched scream and rocks violently.

(They shot him in the leg!)

There was nothing I could do, and my body falls off the horse.

(Damn it!)

Yoshino: "Ouch...!!"

I staggered back to my feet and stared in amazement at the hellish battle.

Rebel soldier 4: "Gwaa..."

One by one, the rebel soldiers fell into the mud.

I was immediately confronted by several enemies, who blocked my escape.

Enemy 1: "He ordered us to be careful. We were just ordered to capture and keep the woman alive."

Yoshino: "Nngh....."

Enemy 2: "Now now, don't make it difficult for us....come here, missy!"

One of the men who had dismounted grabbed me roughly by the arm and I winced in pain.

(Ah.....)

My eyes widen as I look over their heads, only to see the last of the Rebels soldiers fall.

Yoshino: "...Let go of me!!"

Enemy 3: "Hey, shut up!"

Enemy 4: "She looks like some ordinary town girl? What's so valuable about her?"

Enemy 5: "Who cares...? All our employers want, is her. But, well, it wouldn't hurt if we love her a little bit before handing it over, right....?"

I got goosebumps all over my body as he gave me a lecherous smile.

(No....)

I shake off their hands and try to run away from the emerging smirking men------

Enemy 1: "Where are you running off to?"

Yoshino: "Nn...No."

They soon caught up to me and dragged me down to the ground.

My vision darkens with despair as I see multiple arms stretching towards me....

???: "What the fuck are you doing?"

(Eh...)

At that moment---- the air around us was suffocatingly tense.

Enemy 1: "Ngh....."

The men's smiles froze, and they all turned their attention to the owner of the voice.

(No way....)

Kurama: "Did you touch the woman?"

Chapter 20

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #ikemen genjiden kurama #ikemen mc #main story translations #otome #cybird #cybird ikemen #cybird otome

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

Text

Glass House

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

I got people blamin' me for shit they did to me

Lots of people shamin' me for shit they didn't see

So point the finger, pull the trigger, throw them off your trail

You're diggin' me my grave, but keep the shovel nearby

Dig your own right next to mine

I got people sayin' take an eye for an eye

I just turn the other cheek cause you ain't worth my time

'Cause you see in black and white

But there's more than just wrong and right

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Summary: Lines start to blur between wrong and right as you and Draco try to make it through the first semester of sixth year alive. Can you both keep up the charade long enough to survive? Can laughter and smiles hide what’s lurking underneath?

A/n: Y’all know what’s up. I’m so excited for this chapter honestly because there is so much character growth in our power duo as well as side characters and ugh I would die for Pansy. Also, I haven’t quite decided what to do with Snape yet... I don’t really hate him, not that I particularly like him either. Anyway, let me know what you think! I love seeing all of your comments you have absolutely no idea!! Stay strong and always keep fighting: this chapter deals with some dark stuff. I hope that you all see how to find a ray of sunshine in the midst of hell by reading this. ((I also cleaned up my taglist and got rid of the ones that tumblr wasn’t letting me tag anymore, so if I accidentally deleted you, lmk and I’ll add you back!! And Tumblr still isn’t allowing me to add a lot of you and I’m sorry ://// It’s not that I don’t love you bc I’m trying here))

Prologue:

“Cissy, you must not do this, you can’t trust him —”

“The Dark Lord trusts him, doesn’t he?” Narcissa snapped back at her sister.

“The Dark Lord is . . . I believe . . . mistaken,” Bella panted, and her eyes gleamed momentarily under her hood as she looked around to check that they were indeed alone. “In any case, we were told not to speak of the plan to anyone. This is a betrayal of the Dark Lord’s —”

“Let go, Bella!” Narcissa snarled, and she drew a wand from beneath her cloak, holding it threateningly in her sister’s face. Bella merely laughed.

“Cissy, your own sister? You wouldn’t —”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do anymore!” Narcissa breathed, a note of hysteria in her voice, and as she brought down the wand like a knife, there was another flash of light. Bella let go of her sister’s arm as though burned.

“Narcissa!”

But Narcissa had rushed ahead. Rubbing her hand, Bellatrix followed again, keeping her distance now. At last, Narcissa hurried up a street named Spinner’s End, over which the towering mill

She had knocked on the door before Bella, cursing under her breath, had caught up. Together they stood waiting, panting slightly, breathing in the smell of the dirty river that was carried to them on the night breeze. After a few seconds, they heard movement behind the door, and it opened a crack.

A sliver of a man could be seen looking out at them, a man with long black hair parted in curtains around a sallow face and black eyes.

Narcissa threw back her hood.

“Narcissa!” said the man, opening the door a little wider, so that the light fell upon her and her sister. “What a pleasant surprise!

“Severus,” she said in a strained whisper. “May I speak to you? It’s urgent.”

“But of course.” He stood back to allow her to pass him into the house, Bellatrix following suit.

“Snape,” she said curtly as she passed him.

“Bellatrix,” he replied, his thin mouth curling into a slightly mocking smile as he closed the door with a snap behind them.

Snape gestured Narcissa to the sofa. She threw off her cloak, cast it aside, and sat down, staring at her white and trembling hands clasped in her lap. Bellatrix lowered her hood more slowly.

“So, what can I do for you?” Snape asked, settling himself in the armchair opposite the two sisters.

“We . . . we are alone, aren’t we?” Narcissa asked quietly. He nodded in confirmation.

“Severus, I’m sorry to come here like this, but I had to see you. I think you are the only one who can help me I know I ought not to be here, I have been told to say nothing to anyone, but —” Narcissa rushed out, her words stumbling over each other.

“Then you ought to hold your tongue!” snarled Bellatrix. “Particularly in present company!”

“‘Present company’?” repeated Snape sardonically. “And what am I to understand by that, Bellatrix?”

“That I don’t trust you, Snape, as you very well know!”

Narcissa let out a noise that might have been a dry sob and covered her face with her hands. Snape set his glass down upon the table and sat back again, his hands upon the arms of his chair, smiling into Bellatrix’s glowering face.

“Narcissa, I think we ought to hear what Bellatrix is bursting to say; it will save tedious interruptions. Well, continue, Bellatrix,” said Snape. “Why is it that you do not trust me?”

Narcissa tuned the bickering pair out as her thoughts started to spiral again. Draco consumed her psyche and in turn so did Y/n. They were woven together in fate as she and Lucius were and

Narcissa was sure of the matter. It seemed like eons had passed since Narcissa found herself in Y/n’s shoes, and she knew that somewhere she had failed watching her love turn into a monster and she did not wish the same fate upon her son.

“That was not my fault!” said Bellatrix, flushing. “The Dark Lord has, in the past, entrusted me with his most precious — if Lucius hadn’t —”

“Don’t you dare — don’t you dare blame my husband!” Narcissa hissed, in a low and deadly voice, looking up at her sister, butting into their squabbling.

“There is no point apportioning blame,” said Snape smoothly. “What is done, is done.”

“But not by you!” said Bellatrix furiously and the two continued to argue until Bellatrix still looked unhappy, though she appeared unsure how best to attack Snape next. Taking advantage of her silence, Snape turned to her Narcissa.

“Now . . . you came to ask me for help, Narcissa?” Narcissa looked up at him, her face eloquent with despair.

“Yes, Severus. I — I think you are the only one who can help me, I have nowhere else to turn. Lucius is in jail and...” She closed her eyes and letting free the tears that had been threatening to fall for days. “The Dark Lord has forbidden me to speak of it,” Narcissa continued, her eyes still closed. “He wishes none to know of the plan. It is... very secret. But—”

“If he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak,” said Snape at once. “The Dark Lord’s word is law.”

Narcissa gasped as though he had doused her with cold water. Bellatrix looked satisfied for the first time since she had entered the house.

“There!” she said triumphantly to her sister. “Even Snape says so: You were told not to talk, so hold your silence!”

But Snape had gotten to his feet and strode to the small window, peered through the curtains at the deserted street, then closed them again with a jerk. He turned around to face Narcissa, frowning.

“It so happens that I know of the plan,” he said in a low voice. “I am one of the few the Dark Lord has told. Nevertheless, had I not been in on the secret, Narcissa, you would have been guilty of great treachery to the Dark Lord.”

“I thought you must know about it!” Narcissa relaxed, breathing more freely. “He trusts you so, Severus...”

“You know about the plan?” said Bellatrix, her fleeting expression of satisfaction replaced by a look of outrage. “You know?”

“Certainly,” said Snape. “But what help do you require, Narcissa? If you are imagining I can persuade the Dark Lord to change his mind, I am afraid there is no hope, none at all.”

“Severus,” she whispered, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. “My son . . . my only son . . .”

“Draco should be proud,” said Bellatrix indifferently. “The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: He isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, and he should, since he’s in love with that filthy little blood-traitor—”

“Watch your tongue Bellatrix! I was in her position when the first war began!” Narcissa’s voice became cold and harsh before she turned back to Snape. “Draco is barely sixteen and has no idea what lies in store! Why Severus? Why my son? This is vengeance for Lucius’s mistake, and I know it!”

Snape said nothing. His lack of response confirmed her fears. Again, her Lucius had been twisted in such a way to damage her son.

“That’s why he’s chosen Draco, isn’t it?” Her voice held no ounce of hope. “To punish Lucius?”

“If Draco succeeds,” said Snape, still looking away from her, “he will be honored above all others.”

“But he won’t succeed!” Narcissa rose, almost yelling. “Severus...please...You are, you have always been, Draco’s favorite teacher... and his godfather...I beg you... You are the Dark Lord’s favorite, his most trusted advisor...Will you speak to him, persuade him —?”

“The Dark Lord will not be persuaded, and I am not stupid enough to attempt it,” said Snape flatly. “I cannot pretend that the Dark Lord is not angry with Lucius. Lucius was supposed to be in charge. He got himself captured, along with how many others, and failed to retrieve the prophecy into the bargain. Yes, the Dark Lord is angry, Narcissa, very angry indeed. And I think even more so since Draco has found himself weak with that girl,” He snarled the word.

“Then I am right, he has chosen Draco in revenge!” choked Narcissa. “He does not mean him to succeed, he wants him to be killed trying!”

When Snape said nothing, Narcissa seemed to lose what little self-restraint she still possessed. Standing up, she stalked to Snape and seized the front of his robes. Her face close to his, her tears falling onto his chest, she hissed, “You could do it. You could do it instead of Draco, Severus. You would succeed, of course you would, and he would reward you beyond all of us— ”

Snape caught hold of her wrists and removed her clutching hands. Looking down into her tearstained face, he said slowly, “He intends me to do it in the end, I think. But he is determined that Draco should try first. You see, in the unlikely event that Draco succeeds, I shall be able to remain at Hogwarts a little longer, fulfilling my useful role as spy.”

“In other words, it doesn’t matter to him if Draco is killed!”

“The Dark Lord is very angry,” repeated Snape quietly. “He failed to hear the prophecy. You know as well as I do, Narcissa, that he does not forgive easily.”

Narcissa sneered and paced away, staring at the hearth. “My only son...my only son...”

“You should be proud!” said Bellatrix ruthlessly. “If I had sons, I would be glad to give them up to the service of the Dark Lord!”

Narcissa gave a little scream of frustration and clutched at her long blonde hair, before drawing her wand and pointing it at Bellatrix.

“You will never understand what this is like Bellatrix! You question my loyalty to the Dark Lord but what have I not given to him!? What have I not scarified!? He has taken my love! My family! My sisters! Now he has my son!”

“Narcissa, that’s enough. Listen to me.” Snape stood between the two sisters and Narcissa lowered her wand. “It might be possible . . . for me to help Draco.”

“Severus — oh, Severus — you would help him? Would you look after him, see he comes to no harm? He needs someone,” Narcissa gasped out desperately, her anger fading.

“I thought he had his precious little Hufflepuff,” Bellatrix sneered, but Snape paid her no mind.

“I can try to aid Draco,”

Narcissa composed herself, relief flooding through her veins as she gave him a slight nod.

“If you are there to protect him... Severus, will you swear it? Will you make the Unbreakable V ow?”

“The Unbreakable Vow?” Snape’s expression was blank, unreadable. Bellatrix cackled a laugh but Narcissa paid her no mind. Instead her eyes were trained on dark black ones that held a glimpse of hope.

“He loves her, Severus,” Narcissa’s voice was soft, lost under her sister’s snarking remarks. “You must understand that. Give him the chance you never had,”

Something passed between them, a memory of a girl with bright red hair and a boy who got lost along the way. “I shall make the Unbreakable Vow,” he said quietly. “Perhaps your sister will consent to be our Bonder.”

Bellatrix’s mouth fell open. Snape and Narcissa grasped right hands, not breaking eye contact.

“You will need your wand, Bellatrix,” said Snape coldly. She drew it, still looking astonished. “And you will need to move a little closer,” he said.

She stepped forward so that she stood over them and placed the tip of her wand on their linked hands.

Narcissa spoke. “Will you, Severus, watch over my son, Draco, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord’s wishes?”

“I will,” said Snape.

A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire.

“And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him and his love from harm?”

“I will,” said Snape. A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain.

“And, should it prove necessary . . . if it seems Draco will fail . . .” Narcissa could barely make the words out, “will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?”

There was a moment’s silence. Bellatrix watched, her wand upon their clasped hands, her eyes wide.

“I will,” said Snape.

Bellatrix’s astounded face glowed red in the blaze of a third tongue of flame, which shot from the wand, twisted with the others, and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands, like a rope, like a fiery snake.

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

A soft sigh left my lips as I looked around my barren childhood room. Draco’s hands found their way to my hips as he stood behind me, taking in the same scene.

“It looks so much smaller now,” I murmured softly.

“Your home is at the Manor,” His lips pressed softly to the shell of my ear. “And we’ll be at Hogwarts soon enough,”

“Oh joy,” I muttered, a smile finding my lips at I turned, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Are you sure we can’t just run away to Paris?”

A smile barely touched Draco’s lips.

“If I could, I would take you anywhere safe in a heartbeat,” His fingers brushed my cheek softly, sending a shiver down my spine. “But...”

“But our work is here,” I finished, straightening the lapels of his blazer, smoothing them out. “Are you sure you want to give up being a prefect?” I asked for about the hundredth time. “We still are kids Draco,”

His hands found mine, our fingers intertwining.

“It’s too much to have to worry about,” He murmured softly. “I already fear for both of our lives this year, let alone having to worry about prefect duty and classes,”

Sighing softly, I nodded, my hand creeping up his left arm and resting over his sleeve, over the Mark.

“I love you,” The words constantly left my lips as well as his. A constant reassurance that it would pull us through.

“As I love you,” He smiled this time, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Now, we’re going to be late. Pansy and Abby are already at the station,”

The Hogwarts Express shone in all of her glory, but this time it seemed as if there was something off about her appearance. Like she had been tainted with the secrets that her passengers held and weighted down with the fear that hung in her thick smoke.

Narcissa hugged us both goodbye and Draco and I met up with Pansy and Abby, also with our other friends: Ernie, Hannah, Vincent, Gregory, Blaise, and Emme. Emme and Hannah fawned over my new clothes and the former muttered that it wasn’t fair that I got prettier every year. I blushed at her words that deepened when Draco agreed, his hand slipping around my waist.

Settled in a compartment Ernie, Pansy and Abby all left for prefect duty—Abby had taken my place as Hufflepuff prefect. I wasn’t sure if anyone had taken over Draco’s position, nor did I fret about caring.

After the three had returned, there was a nervous tap on our compartment door. Emme opened the door and a third-year girl with large blue eyes and raven hair.

“T-these are f-for Abby B-Bones, B-Blaise Zab-bini and Y-Y/n Y/l/n.” She squeaked.

I stood, smiling kindly, Abby took her place beside me. The girl gawked up at us and maybe she had reason to; we weren’t exactly your average Hufflepuffs any longer.

“Thank you,” I took the parchments from her hands.

She nodded and with one more quick look around the compartment, she dashed off down the hall.

“What is it?” Draco was by my side, looking over my shoulder.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do,” I teased softly. “Impatient much?”

I unfolded the letter.

Y/n,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely,

Professor H. E. F. Slughorn

“Slughorn?” I said dubiously, trying to make out the overly ridiculous cursive font. “A new teacher?”

Draco took the note from my hands and I rolled my eyes, now peering over his shoulder. “Are you going to go?” Draco’s voice was calm and collected.

He was hiding his fear and disdain of me leaving his side even momentarily. My eyes found Abby’s and we had a silent conversation.

“I’ll go, see what it’s all about,” Abby spoke. “If this Slughorn really wants to meet Y/n, I’ll tell him where he can find you,”

“Thank you,” I wrapped her in a hug. “Be careful,”

“You too,”

Blaise and Abby left—after Abby and Pansy shared a parting kiss that had me blushing and hiding in Draco’s shoulder. After a while, Draco stretched out on the empty seats, his head in my lap. My fingers played with his hair that had just been cut before the start of the new school term. I had to admit that I missed his shaggy hair. He looked much older now.

I was about asleep when the compartment door opened again, and Abby and Blaise came back in. Draco sat up momentarily, and we both looked expectantly to Abby for news while Blaise wrestled with the door.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” He snapped angrily as he smashed the sliding door repeatedly against something that didn’t seem to be there.

My eyes flashed to Draco’s and he kept his cool. I took his lead and looked to Abby as she went on about the meeting with Slughorn lamenting to Pansy. Draco’s eyes still lingered on the door, following something that wasn’t quite there.

Draco laid back down in my lap and my fingers resumed their task in his hair. His hand found mine and carefully he traced one letter on the back of my hand: “H.” To anyone else it would have looked like a comforting gesture.

I quickly signed one word to Abby: Harry.

She gave a small nod but didn’t let on that she knew anything. In fact, we settled back into the conversation of Slughorn and lunch.

“Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” Blaise rolled his eyes, huffing at Gregory who was trying to casually slip his arm around Blaise’s shoulders. “Not that he managed to find many.”

“Well-connected?” I frowned, my thoughts briefly straying from the fact we were being watched by the Golden Boy. “For what reason?”

“Dunno,” Abby shrugged, signing the letter H, reminding me. “No one too fancy, McLaggen from Gryffindor,”

“His uncle’s big in the Ministry,” Draco explained softly.

“— someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw —”

“Not him, he’s a prat!” Pansy exclaimed in horror.

“— and Longbottom, Potter, and Ginny Weasley,” Abby finished.

Draco sat up, my hands falling to my lap. He pressed an apologetic kiss to my temple and sat up straight next to me.

“He invited Longbottom?” Draco sounded almost dismayed at the fact.

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” Blaise said indifferently, now tucked under Gregory’s arm.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?” Draco muttered.

“What’s he got interest in me or Abby?” I pointed out. “It’s just a prissy preppy club filled people who don’t have any real charm other than who they know,” I huffed. “Well, present company excluded... And Neville has always been a sweetheart, and I don’t really know about Ginny...” I trailed off and both Abby and Pansy were rolling their eyes at me, but Draco was still distracted. “But...”

“Potter,” Draco picked up on my train of thought. “Precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at ‘the Chosen One,’” He sneered.

“Dray,” I called softly, snapping him from his thoughts. Though I still had a distaste for Harry, I knew that it wasn’t good for Draco to get worked up about Harry because it was hard to reason with him when he did. Draco laid back down in my lap and for the third time my fingers stroked through his hair.

“Maybe he’s going a bit senile.” Pansy offered. “No offense babe,” She mended quickly looking to Abby.

“Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his...” I heard the hurt in Draco’s voice this time.

“We’re more than who are parents were, or are,” I reminded him softly. “And this Slughorn seems... shady,”

“Who cares what he’s interested in?” Draco agreed, a bit more defensive than normal. “What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher.” He yawned ostentatiously and I laughed, ruffling his hair. “I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what’s it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?”

“Draco,” I scolded.

I’d let him get snappy and defensive sure, but he couldn’t just go around telling our plans to everyone. We needed secrecy for this to work.

“What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?” Abby demanded, looking to me.

I gave her a sharp look and signed “listen” and my eyes darted up towards the trunk compartments above our heads and she simmered down, remembering that we weren’t alone.

“Well, you never know,” Draco murmured softly, sulking up at me. “We could have... moved on. To bigger and better things,” There was an ounce of hope in his voice.

Everyone looked at the pair of us, either dumbfounded or suspicious.

“Do you mean — Him?” Pansy asked in a low voice.

Draco shrugged. If Draco was talking about better things, it would be moving onto a world where he didn’t exist.

“We’re finishing our education,” I pressed what seemed for like the hundredth time. “No matter how pointless it seems,” I muttered under my breath.

“The Dark Lord wants service, loyalty,” Draco reminded me. “Can’t do that from school can we?”

It was a constant argument we had. If we did manage his trial and came out victorious—as victorious as one could with what was asked of us—what would happen afterwards? Draco was convinced that he was going to actually take me away to Paris to be safe, but he had to see that I wasn’t going to abandon Hogwarts or our friends. After a while he agreed too, but it was always on the fence about the idea.

“And you think you’ll be able to do something for him?” Blaise unknowingly interrupted our silent standoff. “Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?”

“Maybe the job he wants me to do isn’t something that you need to be qualified for,” Draco whispered quietly. “I can see Hogwarts,” He sat up, looking out the train window. “We’d better get our robes on.”

___________________________________

Draco smiled as he fastened your silver cloak over your school robes and for a moment, he could believe that it was the winter of last year, that day in the snow.

“Pinnae hasn’t been out in a while,” He commented softly.

“Bigger things,” You replied softly. “Do you want her to...”

“I’m going to check on something,” Draco confirmed, knowing that you were still being watched. “You go on ahead.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, please,” You scolded again; your voice was so low that he doubted Potter could hear you.

With one last fleeting kiss, you left the compartment. Now Harry and Draco were alone. People were filing past, descending onto the dark platform. Draco closed the door and let down the blinds so that passersby couldn’t peer in.

“Petrificus Totalus!” Without warning, Draco pointed his wand—not your father’s—at Harry, who was instantly paralyzed.

Draco watched, as though in slow motion, Harry toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at his feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. Harry couldn’t move a muscle; he could only gaze up at Draco, who smiled wickedly.

“I thought so,” Draco grinned, kneeling down. “I heard Greg’s trunk hit you. And it’s hard to sneak when you have the most powerful wizards in the school in one compartment. We’re not idiots, Potter.”

His eyes lingered for a moment upon Harry’s trainers.

“And you didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I’ve got you here...”

Draco stamped, hard, on Harry’s face. He felt a satisfying crunch under his shoe and watched as blood poured from Harry’s nose.

“That’s for what you said to my Y/n. Now, let’s see...”

Draco dragged the cloak out from under Harry’s immobilized body and threw it over him.

“I don’t reckon they’ll find you till the train’s back in London,” he said quietly. “See you around, Potter... or not.”

And taking care to tread on Harry’s fingers, feeling quite satisfied, Draco left the compartment.

“What did you do?” You hissed at him as he got into the carriage, riding to school.

“Nothing,” Draco said with a cool smile. You gave him a flat look. “I might have broken his nose,” He grumbled. “And put him in a full body bind curse...” You raised your eyebrow, knowing that wasn’t it. He didn’t know if he loved or hated that you knew him that well, “and hid him under his invisibility cloak...”

“Draco!” You cried. “Are you serious!?”

“He’s been nothing but a prat to us Y/n!” Draco argued. “And after what he said to you at Diagon Alley? And last year when he accused you of double crossing him!?”

“Okay, yes, and you broke his nose. I’m fine with that,” You gestured. “But Draco won’t it be suspicious when he doesn’t show up to school!? We can’t afford to make any mistakes!”

You glared each other down and Draco closed his eyes and sighed. He heard a soft huff come from you and your arms wrapped around his waist. His curled around you instinctively.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” The words were soft from your lips. “But Draco you can’t let this silly feud come over you like this,”

“It’s not a silly feud,” He argued back. You gave him another look.

“We need him,” The confession was small. “If we want to beat this. It’s gonna take all of us,”

Draco didn’t want to admit you were right. But there was something about Harry that set him on edge. Like he was a danger to you at all times when he was near. He almost attracted it like a magnet.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered softly. “Forgive me?” You nodded into his shoulder.

“I can see them,” You whispered softly, your head still tucked into his shoulder. “The thestrals. I always knew that they pulled the carriages but... I didn’t think that...”

You bit your lip, and he knew you were trying not to cry. Draco knew what the Dark Lord had made you witness, and it surprised him too, that seeing the death of your father counted when it was nothing but a memory. He stroked your hair softly and held you close the entire ride.

He hated that you had to part for the opening feast, watching the house sorting take place. When the Sorting Hat mentioned uniting within to face the dangers beyond the walls, his eyes flashed to yours, then over to the Gryffindor table. You were convinced that the Sorting Hat was right and that it would take unity in the school, but he wasn’t too sure. Was unity the key to his success? Would anyone want to stand beside him after what he was about to do?

His conscience was eased slightly when it was announced that Snape was now teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. If nothing else, you stood a better chance against what he dragged you into. Draco still had a disregard for Slughorn and couldn’t keep the grimace off his face.

Despite giving up your prefect duty, you still helped the first years off to your dormitories after waving a goodbye to him. It made him smile that some things never changed.

The next morning, he was surprised when you sat next to him at breakfast because schedules were being handed out and it was another morning that you were supposed to be with your House table.

“Got it last night,” You said as soon as you sat down, knowing the question before he asked. “I had to talk to Sprout about what I wanted to take anyways since I didn’t really ever decide on a career path.” Your voice was chipper, but there was something somber lurking beneath it.

Snape swept up behind the two of you and Draco was ready to defend you against his Head of House, but Snape simply handed Draco his schedule.

“Very well done,” Snape almost smiled, and for a moment Draco wondered what Snape was referring to. “On your O.W.L.s, you show a lot of promise Mr. Malfoy. As well as you Miss Y/n. I look forward to seeing you both in class,”

When Snape was out of ear shot, you gave him a look and he had no idea and no explanation. Snape had always been bearable towards him, but his contempt for you really baffled him. Draco assumed that Snape would loathe you because if anyone could persuade Draco out of his trial, it would be you. Sometimes Draco wondered why you didn’t.

In DADA the next day, Draco paired up with you and you two began to practice casting shielding charms without the incantation. The whole class was filled with shenanigans. Draco found comfort in the lesson, however. Through the summer break, you two had been working on defense spells against the Dark Arts as well as investing in them.

Draco knocked you off your feet for the third time and he could tell that you were getting frustrated. He offered his hand, righting you.

“Are you alright?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Yes,” You snapped. “Stupid spell,”

“Do you need a break?”

Your sharp look gave him his answer.

“You must completely trust the spell,” Snape instructed as he walked past. “It does not lie in a precise incantation of the words in your mind, but also the feeling of protection itself,”

Your eyebrows furrowed a moment then you poised. Draco raised his wand, ready to attack you with a Tripping Spell again, but as he cast it, the spell bounced harmlessly off of you and hit Weasley. A smile spread across your face when you realized what you had accomplished.

“Oi,”

And there went that happy moment. Harry stalked up to you and Draco was very close to sending a Tripping Spell at him.

“Hello Harry,” Your voice was calm, pleasant as you paid him no mind, offering your hand to Weasley, helping him up. “Sorry Ron, I guess I figured it out huh?” Your smile was dazzling and sweet and Ron gaped at you.

“How?” Ron asked.

“She’s cheating,” Harry snapped.

You gaped at him.

“Oh, come on really, Harry,” Hermione butted in as Draco strode to your side, his blue eyes meeting cold green ones. “Does that mean I’m cheating as well?”

Draco held a faint memory that you mentioned Hermione defending you against Harry’s remarks while DA was still active. He presumed that didn’t change either.

“Is there an issue?” Snape came towards the small group of students.

“No sir,” You smiled at the Professor. “I accidentally deflected the jinx and it hit Ron.”

“It was no accident,” Harry muttered.

Snape turned to Harry, glowering. “And perhaps you have an inkling of how Miss Y/l/n preformed a nonverbal spell? Since you seem to think she did it maliciously, you ought to know exactly how it works then?”

“No,” said Harry stiffly.

“No, sir.”

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor.”

_________________________

My eyes widened in shock at the words that escaped Harry’s lips. I could feel the tension grow in the room as Snape’s glare amplified at Harry. I still couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.

“Detention, Saturday night, my office,” said Snape. “I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter . . . not even ‘the Chosen One.’”

The professor was relatively calm for the situation. Draco, on the other hand, I had to grab his hand and give him a soft look. Going off on Harry in front of a bunch of witnesses was not the best situation to get ourselves into.

“So, how did you do it?” Draco asked as we left the room, class having gotten out.

“I... well,” My cheeks flushed slightly. “I thought about how safe I feel when I’m with you... that night after the tournament... or in the prefect baths after my first detention... that night...”

“Oh,” Draco had turned the same shade of red that I was, and I grinned at him.

We met up with Abby and Pansy as we went to sit at the Hufflepuff table, where the rest of our friends were. Pansy was griping about Ancient Runes homework despite it being the first day and I wasn’t looking forward to the work that Snape had assigned this morning either, but since N.E.W.T classes were only a few times a week, it left the lot of us with more free time to do the work.

Draco and I poured into our homework during our free hour before lunch, and since we had been studying Dark Magic among other things over the summer, it was unintentionally easier that it probably should have been. I intertwined my fingers with his.

“We’re gonna get through this,” Laying my head on his shoulder, I sighed softly. “We’re going to succeed. We’re going to be okay,”

He didn’t say anything, but his thumb stroked the back of my hand. It came time that we parted ways: Draco had double Potions and I had Herbology.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I smiled pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Especially with Potter in that class.” A pause, “I love you,”

“As I love you,” He whispered softly.

I hated watching him go, knowing that Slughorn was teaching Potions and that Harry was in his class. I worried more with each step that we were apart. It was true, we had maybe a week or two until we really had to start our plan and I wanted Draco to try and enjoy the career path of Auror in his N.E.W.T.s until then.

Walking into the greenhouses I saw the two other students composing this section of N.E.W.T. Herbology: Luna and Neville. I shed my robes and picked up a pair of dragonhide gloves. Even though it was the first day, Sprout had bowtruckles out on the desks. Steve seemed to remember me from the year prior and crawled back up on my arm. I took a seat next to Luna and Neville, who were interacting with their own bowtruckles.

They both smiled at me as I took out my notebook filled with my previous years notes from Herbology. It was getting to the point that my torn up, abused notebook was becoming more accurate than Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

“So, you and Malfoy?” Neville asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“Yeah,” I nodded, a tight smile on my lips and looked around anxiously. “Look, I know you two aren’t his biggest fans... but—”

“It’s important that we unite for the sake of the defeat of You-Know-Who,” Luna finished the words I couldn’t bring myself to say. “The Sorting Hat has been saying it for years... you’d think that someone would listen,”

“Harry’s got everyone thinking that Malfoy is some sort of Death Eater,” Neville confessed, and I froze momentarily before recovering.

“That self-righteous prat,” I muttered. “It never ends does it? Between those two? Even Draco is ridiculous about it,” I couldn’t help but laugh as the other two joined in. I sighed softly and shook my head, setting Steve down on the table.

“You know, they’re a lot more alike than they care to admit,” Luna said absentmindedly.

Neville and I were both about to refute the point when it seemed we both paused and considered her words. Was Draco similar to Harry? Yes. That was the simple answer. They were very alike, but on different sides of the same war. Two boys forced into legacies set by their parents and those around them. Powerful young wizards who no doubt just wanted to run away from it all.

“I never thought about it like that,” Neville whispered softly. “Makes Draco seem less...”

“And Harry a bit more...” I tacked on.

Sprout allowed us to interact and study the bowtruckles for the double hour of Herbology as she went over a rough outline for the year course and what we should expect on our finals. I left a few minutes early and rushed to the Potions class before it got out, meeting Draco at the door.

“Well? How’d it go?” I asked expectantly.

“Ask Potter,” He snapped, storming off.

My eyes met Harry’s and we were at a sort of standoff, until I remembered what Luna had said. The one I loved and the Chosen One were a bit more alike than I cared to admit. It softened my glare and allowed Slughorn to catch me in the hall.

“Miss Y/n!” He said merrily. “I missed you on the train, my dear!”

“Apologies,” I offered with a slightly smile. “I was otherwise occupied.”

“No doubt telling Malfoy how pretty he is,” Harry sneered.

“Careful Harry,” I said coolly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were harboring a crush there yourself after my boyfriend,”

Well that shut Harry up. I smiled victoriously, watching the Chosen One turn a shade of bright red in anger as Ron and Hermione tried to hold him back.

“Boyfriend?” Slughorn mused. “I hope I didn’t offend either of you by not extending my invitation to Mr. Malfoy,”

“Not at all,” I smiled kindly—a false smile, “But I’m afraid that I will have to decline your invitation. I’m a firm believer that we are not our parents, who we know, nor what is expected of us.” I bore down green eyes as I said the words. “And I’m afraid I cannot join a club based on that premise,”

“Fire in this one, eh?” Slughorn chuckled looking to Harry. “As you wish my dear,”

“Professor,” I nodded. “Hermione, Ron... Harry,”

I turned and raced down the hall, after Draco who caught me on the first corner and pressed his lips to mine fiercely, easily pinning me against the wall.

“I bloody love you,” Draco breathed out in between kisses.

His hands trailed down my sides and to my waist as my hands got lost in his hair, dislodging the silky hair from the carefully styled gel. His breath was hot as it mingled with mine, his tongue gaining dominance easily. I held back a soft moan and pulled away, panting.

“Who knew that all I had to do to get you to kiss me like this was snark at Potter?” I drawled, pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips.

“Oh, you have no idea the things I want to do to you,” He muttered darkly, pressing his lips to my neck. “But only when you’re safe,”

A small smile found its way to my lips as I pulled him away softly, stroking his cheek. “I love you Draco,” My eyes met crystal blue ones.

“As I love you,” He pressed a kiss to my forehead as we made our way to the Great Hall for dinner.

Later that night, we were lounging together in the Hufflepuff common room—along with Abby and Pansy, but these days we were hardly seen without each other.

“Luna said something in class today,” I mused aloud, pausing from my bowtruckle sketch,

“When doesn’t she?” Draco muttered, reading up on his Potions textbook for tomorrow, I nudged him playfully.

“She said that you and Harry might be more alike than any of us care to admit.”

I heard his quill snap and watched the ink splatter over his paper. I quickly snapped my finger and the Cleaning Spell did its magic.

“What?” He hissed. “Me? Similar to Potter? Are you daft?”

My eyes dropped as I gritted my teeth. Draco seemed to find himself. Taking a deep breath, he reached out, placing his hand on my forearm.

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me, I apologize,” His voice was soft and broken. “Please,”

“Never mind,” I whispered. “It’s... it’s nothing.”

“Y/n,” He called softly, tilting my chin so that I was staring into his deep blue eyes. “I’m very sorry I snapped at you. Please tell me?”

Oh, it was not fair that he could do that to me.

“You’re both... forced into roles you don’t want to play—don’t give me that look, I don’t think Harry wants to save the world anymore that you want to...” I shrugged and set down my quill. “I’m sure he just wants to run away too. I can only imagine... he’s lost his parents... Sirius...”

“He’s got Weasley,” Pansy pointed out, butting into our conversation. “And Granger, and always has. Everywhere they go, they shine. ‘The Golden Trio.’ Remember first year? Slytherin had won house cup until those three showed up? Dumbledore had days to award the points, but he had to wait until the Feast.”

Draco and I both flinched at the name. But I remembered that day well, I was so upset on behalf of the Slytherins, because even though at that time I was terrified of most of them, it really wasn’t fair.

“But can we blame Harry for that? I mean stuff sort of just does happen to him,” Abby refuted.

“Stuff happens to everybody,” Pansy snapped back. “Doesn’t give him a free pass to be a prat all the time,”

The two argued at my focus shifted to Draco, who had gone quiet beside me. His gaze let me know that he was lost in thought, in a different world that wasn’t the one around him. I nudged his shoulder and blue eyes found mine.

“Maybe there was something... once.” He admitted. “But...”

“You’ve changed,” I smiled. “Harry is still a git,”

“Are you saying I was a git?” He mocked offense.

“You were the king of the gits,” I teased. “You used to be so mean to me!” I was almost laughing as he blushed and looked down.

“I was mean to everyone,” He chuckled, pulling me into his lap. “Remember you yelled at me? ‘I have every reason to hate you, but I refuse’,” Draco smiled down at me. “You were something else. Sometimes I wonder if you really are a Hufflepuff when you act like such a Gryffindor,”

“Take that back!” I laughed, slapping his chest. “I am not a Gryffindor!”

“I don’t know Feathers,” Abby drawled. “You’ve got to be stupid brave to take on a Malfoy,”

“I’m not the one whose Patronus is a lion,” I refuted looking up to Draco, who burst out laughing.

“Wait!” Pansy nearly screeched. “Your Patronus is a bloody lion!? What the hell are you doing to him Y/n!? Stop contaminating my Slytherin!” She was laughing, nothing behind her threats.

I could feel my face flushing as I hid in Draco’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his body shaking with laughter under me. Something I didn’t know that I missed. It was almost easy, wrapped up in Draco’s arms, laughing with our friends, to forget that we had something much darker lurking underneath.

A week passed as we settled into our classes. Neville had warmed up to me in Herbology and no longer stammered when I tried to talk to him, which was nice. Draco still sulked a bit after double Potions, but it was easy to bring his smile back.

Until Slughorn caught me after meeting with Draco the following Friday.

“My dear Y/n! Just the girl I was hoping to see!” he boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his walrus mustache and puffing out his enormous belly. “I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We’re having a little party, just a few rising stars, I’ve got McLaggen coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin—I don’t know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries—and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Bones will favor me by coming too.”

It was like Draco wasn’t standing right next to me; Slughorn did not so much as look at him.

“Apologies, professor,” I hissed. “But I think I’ve made it clear that I am not interested in your Slug Club. If you’ll excuse us,” My voice dripped acid as I took Draco’s hand and led him down the hall, seething.

“Love, if you want to go to these meetings, don’t let me be the one to stop you,” Draco sounded crestfallen as he pulled me to a stop. “You’re going to go amazing things with your future, don’t... don’t give that up for me,”

I reached up and stroked his cheek softly.

“My future wouldn’t be complete without you in it.” I smiled softly. “And I know I’ve got the shoes and the dresses to be a Malfoy, but I really am happy to settle down, without a sickle in my pocket, if it meant I could have you. Slughorn be damned,”

Draco rolled his eyes and smiled.

__________________________________

He got a letter from his mother that evening and it seemed like whatever defense you had against Harry faded. The Evening Prophet read that the Manor had been searched for Dark Magic and cursed objects because of an “anonymous tip” to Arthur Weasley.

“That Potter!” You snarled, after hearing that Narcissa had been given much trouble about your room at the Manor because of its heavy enchantments. “He has no idea what we’re up against and he thinks he can just accuse who he wants!”

“He’s right though,” Draco sighed softly. “He was right all along to suspect me,”

Your mood softened as you took the paper and letter from his hands, tossing them onto his desk. You didn’t say anything, and perhaps there wasn’t anything to say as you sat beside him on the bed. Again, he wondered where your soft plea for him was to not do this. To stop his trial because it was wrong. It didn’t come, though.

You and Draco found yourselves every Friday night from then on in The Room of Hidden Things, searching for the other vanishing cabinet. After some persuading, he allowed you to fly as Pinnae around the large room as he meandered the mountains of rubbish.

“Draco!” You called, and he ran towards the sound of your voice.

When he caught sight of you, he also caught sight of your target. He almost sagged in relief. He had become disheartened over the past few weeks, and without your gentle reminders that your plan would work, and that you had allotted months to spare in planning and fine tuning, he might have done something rash.

“I don’t see why we can’t just send him a cursed object or something,” He huffed one night, slamming another book closed. “It’s not like it’ll be hard.”

“Draco,” You sighed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt, on the slight chance that it falls into the wrong hands,”

Your gaze dropped to the table and he was sure that you were finally about to give a spiel about not wanting to do the trial in the first place, and that he should stop attempting, but it didn’t come. What he had to do was wrong and you weren’t refuting it at all. It made him anxious.

Now that everything had been planned out—rather flawlessly between the two of you—it almost seemed surreal to him. Not like Dumbledore had been at the school much anyway. Draco rarely saw him in the Great Hall during meals, and he avoided eye contact at all costs either way.

Draco lounged across his bed—that was more of a nest since you had a habit of finding your way into it most nights—as you came in through the window morphing from Pinnae. In your routine, you slipped off your shoes and grabbed the sweater and sweats he had laid out for you and you went to change in his small bathroom. When you no longer looked a Malfoy, but yourself, you draped over him on the bed.

“So, Hogsmeade tomorrow,” You grinned, excitement in your eyes. “Are you ready?”

“I’m not going,” He didn’t look up from his book, not wanting to see your reaction. Dread settled in his chest at this conversation.

“Why not?” You almost pouted. “We deserve a little fun Dray,”

“You can go,”

“Draco,” You chided, sitting up. “Since when do you not want to go out with me?” The frown and pout of your lip had Draco running a hand through his hair, nervously.

“I can’t go,” He admitted. “I... I have detention,” Draco didn’t dare to meet your eyes.

“Detention?” Your tone held an anxious note. “What...? why? With who?”

He grimaced. “McGonagall. I... I failed two of her quizzes,”

You went quiet for an agonizing half a minute that dragged on forever. After a full minute he looked up at you and deep concentration was written in your features.

“What are you thinking about?” He mused, pulling you into his arms, trying to shove down the ashamed feeling that kept bubbling in his chest.

“Well,” You teetered your head. “How quickly I can get detention before tomorrow,” A small smile found your lips. “And wondering if Hermione would want to tutor you if I asked her...”

“I don’t need a tutor,” He snapped, defensive, but you saw right through his front.

“Alright,” You soothed, rubbing his shoulder. “You know it is okay to struggle in class, right? Talent has to run out somewhere and the skill and practice has to pick up, and if that’s now, that’s perfectly okay.”

His gaze dropped as your words sank in. Was this the tipping point where he couldn’t rely on his pureblood status any longer and would have to work to be good at magic? Something that always came easily to him? The thought scared him more than the thought of failing a quiz or serving detention.

“We don’t have time for me to start to fail now,” His worry left his lips. “I can’t start failing now,”

Your fingers came and cupped his face, stroking his cheek.

“You’re not failing,” The words were soft like the look in your eyes. “McGonagall allows everyone to retake exams and quizzes for full credit and normally her detentions are just one on one time with her so that she can help you,”

“How do you know?” He mumbled miserably.

“Because I was failing in Transfiguration fourth year and she did the same for me.”

“Never told me that,”

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Do you want me to ask Hermione if she’ll tutor you? I can ask Luna if you’d prefer.” You asked again, your voice silky soft.

“You could tutor me,”

“And we’d get nothing done because we’d end up snogging all night,” You pointed out with a laugh. “Don’t think I didn’t think about it,”

“So, you think about snogging me all night?” A familiar smirk found his lips.

“I think about a lot of things to do with you at night,” You drawled, just as mischievous. “But...” Sadness replaced the mischief.

“Not until we’re safe,” Draco offered.

“Not even that,” You confessed. “I’ve been reading old papers and rumors and such, and a lot of Death Eaters are skilled in Legilimency, your aunt in particular and the Dark Lord even more so...” A pause. “And I don’t want those moments to belong to anyone but us... and unless you feel like becoming skilled in Occlumency to a degree to defy You-Know-Who in the meantime...”

Draco nodded and pulled you to his chest, rubbing your back softly.

“I love you,” He pressed a kiss to the top of your hair.

“I love you too,” You whispered into his shoulder.

The next morning you took off with a quick kiss, flying back to your dorm before anyone would catch you. He dressed, trudging off to McGonagall’s office, not looking forward to the next few hours at all.

“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall greeted politely.

“Professor,” He sighed and held his head high, your words comforting him.

It was okay to struggle. He wasn’t failing, he just had to learn. He could do that. He could learn. He could do this... right?

“Now, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall began, “I know that you’ve been doing quite well in class and you’ve been completing your homework in a timely manner. I’m curious as to why you missed out on these quizzes,”

Draco looked down and wished that you were beside him to say the words he never could. You were brave that way, never afraid to admit when you needed help or confess what was wrong.

“As you are aware, I allow all students to make up quizzes for full marks if they can perform the spells and recite the information to me after they have reviewed the information. That is the purpose of these next hours,”

Even though you had told him all of this the night before, there was still a comfort to it coming from the Professor’s mouth. He could do this. He wanted to get better and now he had the whole afternoon and one on one time with McGonagall to get back up to par. As McGonagall began to go over and ask him questions about the spells that had been studied and the methods behind them, he knew almost all of the answers—to both of their surprises, though neither showed it. And when she asked him to transform a kettle into a rabbit, he performed the spell correctly on the first try. McGonagall smiled.

“Draco,” She caught his attention with the use of his first name. “I believe that you are quite skilled in Transfiguration. Consider both of your quizzes to have full marks,”

“But Professor,” He stammered. “I... I don’t understand why I can do it now. And why I couldn’t do it then,”

The smile warmed on the professor’s face, meeting her eyes.

“Some students, Miss Y/n included as I’m sure you’re aware, have testing anxiety. They know all of the information, and can perform quite well, but when faced with the threat of an exam or a grade, they lose focus. It stems from a need of perfectionism, and I assure you, you are not the first Slytherin with the issue.”

Draco nodded.

“Now, I cannot be certain that it is the case with you, I also know that not all students should be measured by what they can write on a piece of paper or recall on a moment notice. You are a gifted wizard Mr. Malfoy, and I do not want you to doubt that, nor do I want you to be confined by a standardized exam.” McGonagall looked over her glasses at him. “If you wish, we can continue these sessions instead of examinations for you, or if you wish, you can attempt my written quizzes again if you feel confident,”

The words sunk into Draco’s mind as he processed what he was being told. He never expected the kind gestured offered to him by McGonagall for a number of reasons and it baffled him. Yet, there was a comfort in it. Maybe he wasn’t failing after all, he just didn’t test well. That was more of a relief than the better quiz grade.

“I think I’d rather do this,” He confessed.

“Very well, every time there is a quiz or exam, you do not have to show to class, but I expect you here the Saturday afterward.”

“Yes Professor,” McGonagall smiled again.

“It’s not too late to head down to Hogsmeade if you so wish Mr. Malfoy, I am done with you for today,” She ordered some papers on her desk. “I’m sure Feathers will be quite happy to get out today,”

He stared at the professor who had a mischievous look in her eye. Gathering his things, he thanked McGonagall again and headed down the hall, where you were more or less patiently waiting.

“Well?” You looked at him expectantly.

“Does McGonagall know about Pinnae?” He asked, distracted and distressed.

“Yes? I thought you knew that. She and Sprout are the ones who helped me,” You took his hand as the two of you walked down the hall. “But that’s beside the point, how did it go?”

“Well, she thinks that I have testing anxiety,” Draco gave. “And that I’m not slipping behind like I thought,”

“That’s great!” You beamed. “Well not the anxiety, I know that sucks, but ya know,” Your smile was contagious as you turned down the hall, towards the dorms.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“Uh? The dorms?”

“Did you not want to go to Hogsmeade then?”

Your eyes lit up as you grabbed his hand and all but dragged him down to the small village. Though Hogwarts students milled around the small town, it didn’t hold the same air of magic as it once did. Zonko’s had been boarded up and closed and though most of the other shops were opened, something seemed to be off.

You noticed it, as you clung to his arm, your smile becoming a bit more forced. The sun was hidden by October clouds that threatened to rain any moment. Sensing your distress, Draco quickly ushered you into The Three Broomsticks, where you nearly knocked over Harry.

“Sorry,” You rushed out, offering your hand, even after you realized who you had jostled.

Harry ignored your offer and got up on his own, glaring you down. Draco tucked you to his side, his gaze becoming cold and dangerous.

“Watch where you’re going Y/l/n,” Harry snapped.

“She apologized Harry,” Hermione tugged on Harry’s shoulder. “Now come on, you’re being ridiculous,”

“Me? She’s the one who’s kidding herself,” Harry muttered as he stormed out of the small pub.

___________________________

Hermione gave me an apologetic look, and so did Ron before they followed out after Harry. Draco took a step towards the door, no doubt to go after Harry for a different reason, but I grabbed his hand.

“It’s not worth it,” I murmured.

“Y/n,” He protested. “He can’t just... treat you that way and think that it’s okay,” There was a fire in his eyes.

“He can be wrong, Draco.” I smiled softly. “I know who I am,”

After sulking a moment, Draco gave in and led me to a table in the corner of the small bar, ordering two teas for us. I had a feeling that I just stopped the war from prematurely starting. We had about a moment of peace before there was screaming coming from outside. Both Draco and I rose abruptly, our drinks forgotten, as we hurried outside.

The Golden Trio and another Gryffindor were all standing over a screaming girl who was thrashing about. Draco and I took off running towards then, wands out, ready for anything. Harry rushed off towards the school as we got there.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“I—I don’t know,” The other girl sobbed.

“She’s been cursed,” Draco stooped beside me, his eyes taking in Katie’s writhing form. “Sorry love,” He muttered quickly, and for the moment, I thought the worst before he reached out and snagged my locket from around my neck. I watched as he, with quick and steady hands, placed the necklace around Katie’s neck, who promptly stopped screaming, and it looked as if she was sleeping.

We were all gawking at him when Harry came back with Hagrid.

“You!” Harry threw the accusation. “You did this to her! You slimy little—”

“Harry, he just saved her!” Hermione stood, looking quite dangerous herself. “Now come off this stupid feud!”

“Hagrid, that’s not going to hold long,” Draco spoke urgently, looking at my locket that was draped around the unconscious girl’s neck. “She needs to get to Pomfrey, or Snape.”

Harry looked baffled as Hagrid lifted Katie into his arms and rushed off towards the castle. Hermione hurried over to Katie’s wailing friend and put an arm around her.

“It’s Leanne, isn’t it?” She asked softly. The girl nodded.

“Did it just happen all of a sudden, or—?”

“It was when that package tore,” sobbed Leanne, pointing at the now sodden brown-paper package on the ground, which had split open to reveal a greenish glitter. Ron bent down, his hand outstretched, but Harry seized his arm and pulled him back.

“Don’t touch it!” Harry, Draco, and I all shouted.

Harry crouched down. An ornate opal necklace was visible, poking out of the paper.

“I’ve seen that before,” Draco bent down beside Harry their opposition momentarily forgotten, staring at the thing. “It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed. Katie must have touched it.” He looked up at Leanne, who had started to shake uncontrollably. “How did Katie get hold of this?”

“Well, that’s why we were arguing. She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it... Oh no, oh no, I bet she’d been Imperiused and I didn’t realize!”

Leanne shook with renewed sobs. Hermione patted her shoulder gently. I shrugged off my cloak and draped it around the crying girl’s shoulders, holding her with Hermione.

“She didn’t say who’d given it to her, Leanne?” Harry asked.

“No... she wouldn’t tell me... and I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to school, but she just wouldn’t listen and... and then I tried to grab it from her...and — and —” Leanne let out a wail of despair.

“It’s alright sweetheart,” I soothed softly, rubbing her arm. “She’s going to be okay,”

“We’d better get up to school,” said Hermione, her arm still around Leanne. “We’ll be able to find out how she is. Come on...”

My eyes met Draco’s and he nodded, standing, coming to my side. There were thousands of questions in my eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and draped his own cloak around me, the biting wind whipping around us. I wanted to protest. I wasn’t cold, but I knew Draco would be.

Harry hesitated for a moment, watching our interaction, then pulled his scarf from around his face and, ignoring Ron’s gasp, carefully covered the necklace in it and picked it up.

“We’ll need to show this to Madam Pomfrey,” he said.

Harry and Ron trailed behind Hermione and Leanne, the two whispering in harsh tones to each other. Draco held out his hand and I took it, following.

“I—I’m uh, sorry, about not telling you about your locket,” Draco fumbled out, as if I were going to yell at him.

“You’re apologizing to me for giving me a locket that has been protecting me all this time?” I laughed and looked up at him. “Come on Dray, that was the sweetest thing I think you’ve ever done,”

There was a blush on his cheeks as he smiled at the ground. As we entered the castle grounds it seems that whatever Ron and Harry were arguing about had become very heated. I heard both of our names brought up as Harry stole glances at us. My gaze dropped and Draco held me closer.

“McGonagall!” said Ron warningly, and we all looked up.

Sure enough, Professor McGonagall was hurrying down the stone steps through swirling sleet to meet them.

“Hagrid says you six saw what happened to Katie Bell—upstairs to my office at once, please! What’s that you’re holding, Potter?”

“It’s the thing she touched,” said Harry.

“Good lord,” said Professor McGonagall, looking alarmed as she took the necklace from Harry. “No, no, Filch, they’re with me!” she added hastily, as Filch came shuffling eagerly across the entrance hall holding his Secrecy Sensor aloft. “Take this necklace to Professor Snape at once, but be sure not to touch it, keep it wrapped in the scarf!”

We followed Professor McGonagall upstairs and into her office. The sleet-spattered windows were rattling in their frames, and the room was chilly despite the fire crackling in the grate. Professor McGonagall closed the door and swept around her desk to face to face us all. Leanne was still sobbing in Hermione’s arms.

“Well?” she said sharply. “What happened?”

Haltingly, and with many pauses while she attempted to control her crying, Leanne told Professor McGonagall how Katie had gone to the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks and returned holding the unmarked package, how Katie had seemed a little odd, and how they had argued about the advisability of agreeing to deliver unknown objects, the argument culminating in the tussle over the parcel, which tore open. At this point, Leanne was so overcome, there was no getting another word out of her.

“All right,” said Professor McGonagall, not unkindly, “go up to the hospital wing, please, Leanne, and get Madam Pomfrey to give you something for shock.”

When she had left the room, Professor McGonagall turned back to us. “What happened when Katie touched the necklace?”

“She rose up in the air,” said Harry, before either Ron or Hermione could speak, “and then began to scream, and collapsed. Professor, can I see Professor Dumbledore, please?”

Draco gripped my hand a little tighter at the mention of his name. I leaned against him comfortingly.

“The headmaster is away until Monday, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, looking surprised.

“Away?” Harry repeated angrily.

“Yes, Potter, away!” said Professor McGonagall tartly. “But anything you have to say about this horrible business can be said to me, I’m sure!”

There was a standoff between Harry and McGonagall that had me averting my eyes at the sheer determination between the both of them. Harry gave in and scoffed, crossing his arms rather childishly. McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“And then I assume that you two arrived?” McGonagall turned to Draco and I.

“Yes,” Draco answered coolly. “We were in the Three Broomsticks and heard the screaming.”

“Did you two happen to see who gave Ms. Bell the package?”

“No ma’am,” I replied. “We were preoccupied with Harry,” My voice was calm and slightly accusatory. “Katie had left before we entered.”

“And I hear that you held a very powerful talisman Miss Y/n,” McGonagall raised her eyebrows. “Can I ask where you might have gotten such an artifact?”

“It was a gift,” I clarified. “From Draco,”

Harry scoffed again, but I paid him no mind.

“And where did you get your hands on such a thing Mr. Malfoy?”

“It’s my own creation, Professor,” Draco’s cheeks were slightly pink at the awe and surprise that flitted across the faces in the room. Even Harry seem to sulk slightly less.

“I see,” McGonagall nodded. “Well, I can’t say for sure, but I do believe that you and Miss Y/n may have just saved Miss Bell’s life. And for that I award you each with fifty house points.”

“Professor, you don’t have to,” I protested. “A life is more valuable than house points,”

“Even so,” The professor smiled softly. “We will not forget what you have done,”

We both nodded and Hermione was smiling, and Ron wasn’t glaring at us, so I counted that as a semi-win. Harry still had his eyes narrowed at the two of us and I really wanted to confront him about what he was thinking, but McGonagall swept out of her office and toward the Hospital wing.

The tension grew between the five of us.

“Well?” I raised my eyebrow at Harry. “Let’s have it.”

“Love,” Draco chided.

“No,” I retorted. “I’m tired of this. I’m tired of acting like it’s okay for Harry to treat you like this. You probably did just save Katie’s life and had nothing to do with this and I’m really sure that Harry is still trying to find a way to blame you,” I turned to Harry. “Aren’t you?”

Harry looked down, his cheeks going slightly red.

“And at this point I really don’t give a damn about who might be the Chosen One or who might be a Death Eater!” Both boys flinched. “There is a war coming, for all of us! And I don’t care how much you might hate each other or me! If we don’t do this together, we’re all going to die! And if you would stop acting so childish for thirty seconds maybe you could see that!”

I grabbed Draco’s hand before anyone could respond and dragged him out into the hall. There was an air of sadness in his eyes as he pulled me into a quiet corner. He rested on a windowsill. holding my waist to stop me from pacing.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered softly, leaning against him. “None of that was directed at you,”

He nodded, still not saying a word.

“I really am sorry,” I tried again.

“Will you stop apologizing,” He smiled up at me. “You said what needed to be said, although I do wish you hadn’t yelled about Death Eaters,”

“Sorry?” I offered, for a third time.

“All is forgiven,” He smiled.

A quiet moment dragged between us.

“When did everything become so complicated?” I sighed, sitting in his lap as he wrapped his arms around me, keeping me balanced. The sleet assaulting the window behind us seemed to mock us both with its fury, but for the moment, we were safe from its danger.

We eventually drifted back to the Slytherin common room to escape the onslaught of the rain pounding the windows. Draco still had a knack for keeping me from foul weather.

I thought maybe the storm of the day had passed, until Snape swished into the Common Room requesting an audience with us both in his office promptly. Draco and I shared a look and followed the professor.

There was a familiarity about sitting in the professor’s gloomy office, holding Draco’s hand.

“McGonagall has informed me of your escapade today,” His voice sounded disinterested, but his eyes held a vote of urgency.

“Professor,” Draco began, only to be silenced by the raising of Snape’s hand.

“Neither of you are in trouble. But I must warn you to be more careful. Harry is very quick to accuse and has half of the world hanging onto his words. You two must be more cautious about what situations you find yourselves in if you wish to succeed.”

Snape spoke as if he knew what Draco and I were trying to accomplish, and maybe he did. Anxiety grew in my chest at that thought because with the more people who did know, there was a greater chance that something went wrong and there were too many variables at play. But if Snape did know, then he was very good about acting ignorant.

“And I believe these belong to you Miss Y/n,” Snape grabbed a bundle of silver from under his desk, and on top resided my necklace. “Well done with making quick use of the locket Mr. Malfoy. I have restored it to its original state.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, taking the objects and slipping my locket back on the weight comforting me.

“You are free to go,” He leaned back in his chair. “And do take care, he does not tolerate excuses,”

Our gaze fixed on the professor, gaping at him.

“Potter,” There was a sly smile on Snape’s lips as he lied easily. “Now off with you,”

It wasn’t until we were behind Draco’s locked dorm door that either of us said a word.

“Snape knows,” I breathed out, watching Draco pace the small room. My lethargic mood contrasted starkly against Draco’s.

“Who does he think he is!?” Draco seethed. “We’ve been doing just fine on our own! Now he acts like he cares!?”

“Draco, love,” I tried, only to get a cold look.

“No,” He said firmly. “We have been careful! I have been careful! Snape probably thinks that I sent the bloody necklace! He thinks of me as an ignorant child!”

He scattered the books off his desk. They landed with a crash to the floor. I pursed my lips and waited; my back pressed against his door. Draco stood at the windowsill, facing out, his hands clenched, white skin stretched over smooth bone as they rested against the chilled stone. I counted to sixty then took a careful step forward. A step towards him. With silent movements, I approached him, a gentle hand resting on his shaking shoulders. I could hear the muffled cries that tumbled from his lips. It had been a few weeks since his last panic attack. I hated to say that I awaited it. It had only been a matter of time.

I became his shadow, resting my chin on his shoulder and curling my arms around him, locking my fingers together. My breaths became deliberate, deep. It took a long while, but his shaking soothed and his breathing began to mimic mine. I reached down and smoothed out his fists, his fingers splaying out under mine. He turned, his eyes not meeting mine. I reached up and brushed the remaining tears on his face and began to unbutton his shirt, letting it fall from his shoulders.

It was a routine; he knew what was coming when I started to undress him. It wasn’t about sexual desire or want, but survival and comfort. That he could be completely bare before me—metaphorically and physically—and I still would never take advantage of him.

He allowed me to lead him into the small bathroom and start a warm shower. His hands came to my waist, pulling me back into his chest, his nose nestling into my hair. The warm water washed the chill and fear from our skin. Draco sat on the small counter, towels around us both, as I gently worked the white balm into his Mark, as I did every night before. I pressed a soft simple kiss to his lips, stroking his cheek. Still a word was not shared between us.

Curled up and surrounded by blankets and pillows, Draco’s eyes drifted closed.

“I didn’t do it,” He murmured softly—brokenly. “I didn’t send the necklace,”

“I know,” I ran a hand through his damp hair. “I know, my love.”

“I—I wouldn’t...” He stammered. “It... it was sloppy... I—I can’t risk your life by making—making a mistake like that,” There were tears in his eyes again.

I nodded and held him tighter, fighting back my own tears.

“I just need you to live,” He sniffed. “Whatever happens I need you to live,”

“Draco,” My voice broke as I tilted his chin up. His blue eyes held a hopeless brokenness to them. “I need you to live too. I can’t live without you. I wouldn’t make it,” I squeezed my eyes shut. “You claim that I’m pure, that I’m good, but Draco without you, I wouldn’t have a reason strong enough to keep fighting to stay that way,”

His hands came up and tangled themselves in my hair as he pressed his forehead to mine, our faces inches apart as we both cried, believing that the other was worth more that the life it had saved in that moment.

________________________________

When October turned to November and rain turned to snow, Draco had fallen back into a routine with you. Survive the week, eat meals with you, smile just enough, then curl up with you at night and feel free from the world around him. Draco couldn’t deny because of this year at Hogwarts a bitterness grew in his heart towards the school. Almost everything that he had loved about Hogwarts had been lost to him. He had given up being a prefect, and Quidditch. Potions was no longer fun because of Slughorn, who really had it out for him. Harry was almost impossible to deal with and though he rarely spoke a word to Draco in class, he could feel the accusations being hurled at him from the Gryffindor in his mind.

The only comfort, that led to deeper guilt, was that he and you were making a lot of progress with the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things. It was a slow process that required heavy Dark Magic, but between the two of you, it was getting done. A comfort came as well, when Pansy and Abby came to you two, demanding that—though they knew that you couldn’t say what was going on—they wanted to help whenever and however they could. That meant the couple could patrol the halls while he and you worked on the cabinet, having a perfect cover as prefects.

You still amazed him, however. Despite everything, you were still working to unite at least the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs, and with the help of your (and his) friends it seemed to work.

Slytherin hostility had been almost non-existent against the Hufflepuffs, and some Ravenclaws. Something else was to be said about the Gryffindors, but Draco figured there were some things that would never change. To be fair, if you had come to him, when he was a first or second year and told him to knock off the teasing and rude comments to other students, he would have listened, because you were downright terrifying sometimes. A perfect mix of beautiful and dangerous.

“I know you don’t really like him,” You began one night as you both sat under the stars of the Astronomy Tower. “But Slughorn invited me to his Christmas party. Abby and Pansy are going... and I’m allowed to bring someone...”

“Slughorn?” Draco mused, fiddling with a strand of your hair. “I thought you didn’t want to be a part of his little club?”

“And I don’t,” You reaffirmed, shifting so that you were facing him. “But it might be a bit of fun?”

“That’s what you said about Hogsmeade,” He pointed out, enjoying that you were annoyed more than he should.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Well fine, then we won’t go,” You snapped, crossing your arms, dislodging your hand from his.

A smile played at his lips as he pulled you into his lap.

“If you want to go to Slughorn’s little party and take me with you, I’ll go,” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “And I’ll even behave,”

You snorted.

“And if Harry is there?” You raised an eyebrow, the beautiful smile back on your face.

“I seem to remember that you were the one who went off on him last,” Draco teased, smirking. “And I can handle Potter, easily,”

“Okay,” Your smile grew more genuine. “Then we’ll go,”

With Slughorn’s party came the promise of the end of the semester and home. You had put your foot down a few weeks ago that you and he were done working on the vanishing cabinet for the semester, even though it was almost finished.

“And we deserve a few Friday nights to ourselves and to our friends,” You had pointed out.

So, with the end of term, came this stupid party. Draco didn’t want to go in the slightest, after having Slughorn all semester, he was in no rush to spend more time with the man who fawned over precious Potter. But it made you smile, so he’d endure.

“Damn,” Pansy mutter from his side when she caught sight of you—dressed in the new robes you had gotten over the summer and look absolutely perfect in them. “And you’re sure you two are opened for a fun night with Abby and I?” Her question was all but innocent.

“Pansy, please,” Draco dismayed, growing rather warm.

“Just saying’ Malfoy. I love Abby but damn your girl has got it,” Pansy grinned. “Half the school talks about her, boys and girls.” There as a wicked look in her eyes, that made Draco very possessive.

You noticed when you met him at the bottom of the stairs, a questioning look in your eyes.

“Nothing,” He offered a smile. “Just Pansy,”

“Nothing my ass,” Pansy snarked. “Draco he’s a little jealous that half the school wants to shag you,”

You mouth popped open in surprise as Draco hissed at Pansy, who was laughing along with Abby. You turned a deep shade of red, almost matching the crimson on your lips.

“Oh, don’t tell me that you don’t know!” Pansy feigned dismay. “Seriously, what do you two do all day?”

You and Draco fumbled for answers as Pansy shook her head, pulling Abby down the hall as you two followed meekly.

“You do look lovely tonight,” Draco stammered.

“Thank you,” You sounded just as embarrassed.

There was a crowd around Slughorn’s office—students who hadn’t been invited, and if it weren’t for you, he’d be a part of that crowd.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn’s office was much larger than the usual teacher’s study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables.

“I do wish they wouldn’t use house-elves like this,” Your lips pressed into a tight line.

“It’s their job, love,” Draco cooed softly, to appease you.

“I doubt they’re getting paid,” You muttered back.

“Miss Y/n! I am so glad to see you here after all those diligent invitations. I knew I could wear you down,” Slughorn grinned, giving Draco an uneasy feeling and he began to wonder if you truly wanted to be here, or if you had just said yes to stop the constant harassment from the professor.

“Delighted professor,” Your forced smiled let him know that it might be the latter.

Of course, you wouldn’t want to come. How had he missed that? You hated parties and loud places and tons of people. Draco was starting to feel very stupid for not thinking about this for more than a few moments. He almost wanted to leave now.

As soon as Harry walked through the door, Slughorn’s attention was off you and Draco was actually grateful because he could see your demeanor crumbling. He ushered you off to the quieter outskirts of the party.

“Do you want to go?” Draco asked in a hushed tone. “We made an appearance, we can leave now,”

“Look I know you don’t like Harry but—”

“Forget about me,” He snapped. “You don’t want to be here, do you? I’m so sorry I didn’t think about it,”

You look softened and your mask fell for a moment.

“I... It’s not so bad,” You decided, looking around. “And I know you want to be here,”

“I thought I said forget about me,” Draco tilted your chin up. “Right now, I want to know what you want to do,”

Your eyes scanned the crowd as you bit your lip. If it had been any other situation, he would have simply gone mad with how you looked right now including your lip worrying, but there were more pressing matters.

“I’m okay,” You decided, smiling—a real smile. “I... It’s not as bad as it used to be,” You admitted.

Draco studied you a moment more, then nodded, leading you back out into the fray. It came to a point that Hermione bumped into him. He caught her arm before she could fall completely and you turned, seeing that the commotion was.

“Oh, Hermione,” You smiled. “You look lovely,”

“So, do you, goodness Y/n, those are very nice robes,” Hermione gaped a moment before remembering herself. “If you’ll excuse me,”

“Wait,” You grabbed her hand. “I heard you were going out with McLaggen, whatever happened to Ron?”

“He’s with Lavender,” She said stiffly. “Now please, I have to go before he finds me again,” She said distressed.

“Granger likes Weasley?” Draco mused.

“They have first names,” You chided softly. “And I think they do like each other, they’re just not too sure of how to show it,” You shrugged. “Nothing for me to fret about.” Your smile returned.

After a while, Draco fell into his normal schmoozing routine that he was accustomed to, and now you were as well. Even though he held a powerful family name, all eyes were on you tonight. It reminded him of one of those fairytales you had read to him... Cinderella maybe? He’d have to ask you later. And though Draco wanted to sulk that you were getting more attention than him, like he would have years ago, something felt right about this. You were an amazing witch with— apparently—a well-known father and skills beyond your grade level. You deserved to be praised, after everything you had accomplished, he was proud of you too.

“Oh, Draco.” An airy voice caught his attention. “Y/n mentioned coming here tonight. I never thought she would though,” He turned to see Luna Lovegood staring at him. “She doesn’t like Slughorn much, though I suppose she could just be defending you.”

“Luna,” He greeted softly, drawing your attention as well.

“Luna!” You said excitedly, drawing the other witch into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Harry invited me. We came as friends.” Luna lit up as the words fell from her mouth.

“And Neville is okay with that?” You stopped short—Draco wondered how you seemed to know all of the relationship gossip in the school.

“I don’t think he knows. Harry only just asked me today,” Luna looked off into the distance. “Would he be upset?”

“Luna, the poor guy's head over heels for you,” You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully. “I think you should go talk to him when this madness is done,”

“Suppose you’re right. You always know just what to say Y/n. A fine Hufflepuff,” Luna smiled and hugged you once more, before heading off into the part goers.

“Do you just know everyone?” Draco teased lightly.

“Luna and I have class together,” You refuted. “And she’s a sweetheart, both her and Neville.”

“Such a Hufflepuff,” He grinned, ducking away from the jab he knew was coming at him.

“Better than Slytherin,” You snapped playfully.

“What’s better than a Slytherin?”

Pansy and Abby strolled up, along with Blaise and Greg, both couples looking quite cozy. Greg, for the first time since Draco had known him, looked rather cleaned up and poised next to Blaise—who always looked flawless—confident on his own rather than following orders.

“Pretty much anything,” Abby snickered.

“You’ll pay for that Bones,” Pansy hissed, sending a sharp teasing look towards her lover.

“I can’t say that I share your sentiment either, Miss Bones,”

Draco felt you tense as Slughorn join the group of friends, pressing further into his side. He held you close.

“Slytherin is a fine house. Filled with many rising stars, like Mr. Zabini here,” The round professor nodded to Blaise who was lost in a goblet of mead, looking like he didn’t particularly want to be the center of attention at this moment.

Draco caught the cold look that fell upon your face, and he had to admit that Pansy was right: you were dangerously stunning and if the world wasn’t going to hell in a handbasket, he’d preferably make sure that you and everyone else in the school know that he was the only one with the privilege to shag you.

“I think it’s time we go, Draco,” Your voice dripped ice daggers.

“Oh, my dear, don’t leave. It is Christmas after all, the more the merrier,” Slughorn slurred, not reading the discomfort among the group.

“There’s better company to keep,” You smiled sweetly.

You shared a look with Abby, who looked about to murder, same as you. He wondered what you had told Abby about Slughorn, and what in turn she had told you. Gauging the intensity of the look, it couldn’t be anything pleasant.

“Come on Pans,” Abby muttered. “Y/n’s right. Just a bunch of brown nosers with no talent,”

“And to think I expected more from you two,” Slughorn gripped.

“Shame,” You drawled. “The feeling is mutual. But don’t worry professor, I’m sure your precious Potter would love to entertain you,”

Draco couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips, Blaise and Greg joining.

“Merlin, Draco you really are rubbing off on her,” Blaise chuckled. “You’re one kickass Hufflepuff, Y/l/n,” He raised his glass towards you and disappeared into the crowd, pulling Greg with him.

He watched you and Abby share a short conversation in sign language before Abby took Pansy’s hand and lead her towards the exit. Draco followed their lead, trying to, as politely as possible, avoid the party goers who wanted to strike up a conversation.

“I can’t believe I actually went to that,” You muttered out in the hallway, using his arm as a support to take off your stilettos. “I can’t believe you didn’t talk me out of it,”

“I did try,” Draco smiled softly, taking your shoes from you, taking your hand. “And it wasn’t so bad,” He tried.

You thought a moment.

“I guess not. I did get to see you look quite dashing tonight. Almost makes up for not going to the Yule Ball fourth year,” The smile returned to your lips.

“I do recall inviting you to a Ball that summer,” Draco mused.

“Ah, yes. When you told me I wasn’t your type,” You grinned with a laugh.

“And I was so close to being free of that taunt,” Draco feigned dismay as he smiled down at you. “But I’ll admit it, I was wrong. You are exactly my type,”

You gasped mockingly, a hand coming dramatically over your heart.

“Did Draco Malfoy just admit that he was wrong?”

“Oh hush,” He rolled his eyes, thinking maybe the party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Epilogue:

“It is Christmas,” I murmured softly. “I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Y/n,” Draco stressed, coming up behind me, leaning against the desk I was sitting at.

“I know, I know. What she did was awful, and I wish I didn’t have to decide, but...” I sighed and leaned back in the chair, tilting my head back so that I could meet his eyes.

“It’s Christmas,” Draco sighed pressing a kiss to my forehead. “And you’re nothing if not forgiving,”

“Worked out for you didn’t it?” I smiled.

“Yes dear,” He chuckled. “I’ll go tell my mother that we should expect yours for dinner then.” He paused. “Actually, why don’t you do that? She’s not going to yell at you,”

I laughed and spun around in the desk chair.

“Afraid of your mother, are you?” I baited.

“Respect,” He clarified. “And she’s been a bit... since father has been gone,” I nodded and sighed, turning back to the written letter on the desk and sent it off via owl. “We’ll go tell her together then,” I stood, taking his hand.

Chapter 8

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @okaydraco @the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox @slothgirl22 @peachesandpinks @monimillion @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @wannabeskinny-thinspo

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bubblemiya · 4 years ago

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Ace of Spades ~ Natsuo Todoroki x Reader

Chapter 1 : First day disaster

Next | Masterlist

Warnings: blood mention, abduction mention

word count: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first fic on my new blog and I am so excited about it! I hope you enjoy

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

You knew hero work wasn't going to be easy but there was still a tiny part of you that thought you'd be snatched up by a top agency right away with your flashy suit and unique quirk. That wasn't quite the case.

In fact the opposite happened, your strong quirk had very little drawbacks and many people saw it as dangerous, the nature of your quirk drew villain organisations to you. You defeated them, reported, even 'disposed' of some of them but there was one organisation you couldn't quite shake.

It was your loyalty to the side of heroes and your impressive skill set showcased in your fights that caught the eye of the Endeavour agency. Today was your first day at the agency, it had been a full year since your graduation from shiketsu, and it hadn't properly sank in yet until you were pulling on your hero suit in the women's changing room and a fiery haired sidekick basically pounced on you.

"Aren't you the new girl? I'm Moe Kamiji, my hero name is Burnin'"

She was beautiful, her hair was unique and her loud personality made you envy her. Her inquisitive staring distracted you and you almost tripped pulling up your body suit. She chuckled and helped steady you before offering to help you zip up.

"I'm y/n l/n, my hero name is Phantom Light"

"from what I've seen of your quirk, you're like a ghost type pokemon! that's so cool"

If she sensed your nervousness or felt the heat rising in your face, she didn't mention it. She instead just waited for you to tug on your boots and rambled about how much she loves working at the agency. Her bright attitude was nowhere near what you expected walking into a workplace run by the most intimidating man you've ever seen. She had a natural warmth to her that seemed to calm your fears. You guessed that they sic her on all the newbies at the agency because of that.

"well I'll show you around, newbie"

She looked confident and comfortable as she showed you around the main floors and you only hoped to feel the same way soon. You had already seen the reception and social media/pr team offices as they were on the way to the changing room but Moe had shown you the gyms with in-house saunas, break rooms, conferences rooms, and investigation rooms. The place was huge and despite being full of people, felt empty. It was terrifying, but still exactly what you expected from the new number one. Moe's phone beeped as you passed into another hallway and she pulled it from her bra to check.

"I regret not asking for pockets on this thing" she growled "shit, I'm being called to a villain attack not far from here, you're on your own for now, newbie." she turned to run down the hallway.

"Thank you Kami-"

"Call me Moe!" and before you could even respond she was gone. Your nerves suddenly came flooding back without your new friend there to ease them. With your 'almost fall' in the changing room and Moe leaving when you needed her most, it seemed lady luck was not on your side today. Right as you turned the corner you smacked right into someone exiting an office and they spilled their coffee down your shirt.

“Oh i’m so sorry!”

“It's ok, my hero suit is quite thick so it's not that bad” you attempted to laugh it off but paused as you finally looked up. Your blood ran cold as you realised who you bumped into. The six foot five figure of your boss loomed over you. On your first day you just so happened to bump into Endeavour's son and cause a coffee spill right in front of the man himself. “I-it was my fault any-”

“You just started today and you’re already causing problems, we scouted you because of your impressive skill set but -”

“Shut up, old man” Endeavour's face immediately twitched in anger but he listened to his son, not wanting to cause a scene with him. “It was an accident and it was both of our faults” Endeavour looked embarrassed but grunted something inaudible under his breath. “I'm Natsuo, I'm sorry about your suit, take this” he held his jacket out to you.

“Its ok, it's just a stain”

“Please I insist”

You took it, not wanting him to be offended, and you got a chance to get a proper look at him. He awkwardly scratched his neck as you put on the jacket. There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Endeavour pushed Natsuo past you and carried on walking down the hall. You shook your head to try and rid you of your shame, you hoped you had not just ruined your big shot in the hero world. You walked back down to the offices, keeping your head down as you passed Endeavour and Natsuo to avoid the awkward eye contact. Endeavour was immensely intimidating so you wanted to avoid getting further onto his bad side as much as possible. You filled out the last of your paperwork and set out on your daily patrol.

You kept the jacket on during your patrol and kept in mind that you should take it off to fight but hoped that wouldn't be necessary. You wandered your designated streets, taking in the general hustle and bustle of the town. Bike bells and shop doors opening were sounds you considered comforting. You nodded at people as you passed them, even stopping to say hi to some kids, and stopped at a cafe for a drink. You walked with your drink, hoping for a peaceful end to your work day, until the bird chirping and happy kids turned to screams for help. Your feet, as if on autopilot, followed the sounds until you turned a corner and came face to face with a guy harassing a group of high school girls. You recognised his face from the news, he was a low level villain who had abducted some high school students over the last 3 weeks. He didn't have any strong quirk that you knew of so you went straight in with a strong punch. However, in your haste, you failed to notice the knife he had concealed until he swung it in your direction and he caught your stomach. It wasn't so deep that it needed immediate attention so you continued to fight him off. you had shouted at the girls to leave the alley but they were frozen in place. Fear sometimes acts as an invisible paralytic,

one that we can't or struggle to fight against.

He had gotten in a couple of good swings but once you knocked the knife out of his hand he was pretty much useless. You gave him a harsh elbow to the nose that definitely broke it, a noise that you didn't wanna admit made you feel good and all but knocked him out with the hardest punch you could throw. While he was incapacitated you leaned down to slip him under your control into his body to possess him to make him easier to carry. Your quirk was called 'ghost' which not only gave you the ghostly ability to walk through walls but also to possess people and communicate with the dead. Your possession ability works like a telepathically controlled puppet instead of a typical spirit possession. Once you had his unconscious form up and ready to walk himself to the nearby police you made an attempt to calm the girls and make sure they followed you to the police so police could do safety checks and collect statements. You found it was easy to keep them distracted from their feelings by talking to them and answering questions they might have. You learned one of the girls, a short girl with black hair and black bunny ears, was named Hoshi.

"Are you a pro hero?"

"yup! I started at the Endeavour agency today!"

"Saturday is a weird day to start a new job"

"There's no such thing as weekends when you're a hero" you chuckled at the way she rolled her eyes.

"Don't I know it. My dad is a pro too"

"oh really?"

"yeah but he's away visiting my stepdad"

Your conversation abruptly stopped when police arrived on the scene and took both the unconscious villain and Hoshi away from your custody. The only thing left to do now was find where you had left Natsuo's jacket and head back to the agency to get stitched up. You ran back to a bench you passed to luckily find Natsuo's jacket still there. you didn't wanna get blood on it so you carried it back to the agency instead.

When you walked back in the agency building, Endeavour was standing in the office, handing paperwork to the receptionist, and he noticed you almost immediately.

"Phantom Light, what happened?"

"I got that guy who was abducting high school kids, the one that's been all over local news" Your chest felt heavy as you struggled to pant out your sentence. You were holding your free hand over the wound, putting as much pressure as possible on it to reduce bleeding.

"You're gonna need stitches, I'll take you to our in house doctor" He seemed a lot less tense than he did earlier and Natsuo was nowhere to be seen. You muttered a thank you and slowly walked behind him. He led you to a white door with a black metal name plate on it reading 'Dr.Kita'. You thanked Endeavour again and wandered into the room.

"Good work today, Phantom Light'' was the last thing he said before he shut the door behind you. He was being a lot nicer and even attempting to be encouraging which you figured was his own way of apologising for yelling at you earlier.

The doctor was a tall guy around forty with yellow eyes and brunette hair that was already starting to grey. He welcomed you and got you to lie down on the bench so that he could stitch you back up. He was very talkative, as most doctors are as a way to distract from pain, and he asked about a couple other visible scars to focus your mind elsewhere.

"I got the skin graft about a year ago, I got in a fight with some villain who had a fire quirk. I wasn't even at an agency yet, I was still looking to get scouted, but I walked past him harassing this man for money and I couldn't just walk past it" The doctor nodded as you told the story of the man with white hair and some nasty facial scars who burned you last year. You hissed as the final stitch went through and the doctor clasped his hands together.

"that's you all fixed up, now you just need to change and go home" he said, helping you off the bench and shaking your hand.

You walked back to the changing room and shoved your coffee and blood stained clothes in a bag and changed into your normal clothes. On your way out the building you passed Moe who all but begged for your phone number before you left.

The walk home was quiet and peaceful, The sunset was pretty and nice to watch as you made your way to the train station. The subway ride home had very few people and it was nice to have some time to yourself. You almost missed your stop though because your mind kept drifting back to white fluffy hair and pretty grey eyes. Natsuo was all you could think about. It didn't help that you had his jacket wrapped around you. The smell of an expensive cologne lingered around the collar, it was faint and softer than the cologne you expected him to wear. It was nice and comforting, a smell you could get used to.

Once you got back to your house you used your quirk to pass through the door - which is always locked because you used your quirk and had no reason to open it unless you were expecting food delivery. When you turned around to kick off your shoes you noticed the chain lock had been busted open. You quickly looked around the entrance to your house to check if anything was missing but everything was exactly as you left it in the morning. You dumped your duffle bag full of dirty clothes on the floor and went to check around the rest of the house. You upturned cushions, sifted through cupboards and looked underneath your copious number of house plants but everything seemed normal and in its right place. The only place left to check was your bedroom. Your hand shook as you grasped the door handle nervous to see if anything had been taken but when you walked in you couldn't see anything out of place until you turned your head to the dresser and there it was. Tucked into the frame of a photo of you and your brother sat a playing card, the ace of spades to be exact, with a time written on it.

"2:30 pm"

#bubble.natsuo #bubble.aceofspades #bubble.fic #natsuo todoroki x reader #natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #bnha angst #bnha fluff #x reader #bnha fic #natsuo #my hero academia

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bobathirstaccount · 4 years ago

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Hard to Find Someone Like You

Boba x fem!reader, slow burn to smut (tomfoolery starts end of ch 2 & sex starts in ch 3, I gotchu), some romance, fair amount of plot, Post-Mando 2 Boba

You are a merc serving under Fennec at Fett’s Palace. It’s business as usual until a certain helmet starts tilting in your direction...

TW: unprotected sex, violence (someone gets beat up semi-graphically.. nothing too bad)

Translations (Mando’a)

Hu’tuun - coward (deep insult)

Cyar’ika - sweetheart/ darling

Mesh’la - beautiful

****

CHAPTER SIX

“Finally, she’s awake,” you heard a male voice say.

“Okay, let’s do this,” another one replied.

You looked up, bleary eyed. The back of your head ached.

“Where is he, girl?”

You stared at them.

“Fett, Boba Fett,” the man clarified. You started to laugh. This angered the men and one of them backhanded you, splitting your lip open. For good measure, he also gave you a black eye. “Now let’s try this again. Where’s Fett?”

You laughed again, spitting blood at their feet. “He’s gonna kill you.”

The man who’d beat you grabbed you by the hair and lifted your head up painfully, “Bitch we are the ones in this room with you right now, not him.” He backed off a bit, “Plus he’s just your fucking employer. Give it up.”

You remained silent. It earned you another punch to the face and a kick to the gut. You groaned but didn’t speak.

The men were getting impatient. One of them grabbed a pair of tweezers. “Guess where these are gonna go?” He asked with a nasty expression. You just stared at him, blood dripping down your swollen face. “This is on you, girlie. It’s a shame, you’re a cutie. You won’t be after this.” A flash bang went off, stunning all three of you.

When you recovered you were in a prone position, your bonds cut. You became aware of voices. “... now is there anything else you need to tell me?” That was Boba. “No, no please! That’s all I know. He just hired us to attack Slave 1 and kill you!”

“But yet you were torturing a woman instead. Hu’tuun,” he seethed. Boba slapped him across the face with his armored wrist. The man spit a tooth out and continued to plead. You looked for the other one and found him slumped against the wall. He seemed dead. You directed your attention to your shoulder, which was starting to throb. You gingerly touched it, which made you whimper. 

Boba heard you and turned around, still furious. He walked over to you and knelt, “How are you?”

“Shot.”

He tilted his helmet slightly, “Among other things.” He smoothed your hair back from your face, studying you.

“Please, pl.. pl... -“ Boba shot him without turning his head.

“Let’s go home, cyar’ika.” You nodded and tried to stand. You couldn’t. Boba lifted you to your feet. “Can you walk?” You nodded. You walked outside, leaning against Boba, to see the Slave 1 not far away. You breathed a sigh of relief.

***  Once back onboard, Boba put the ship into jump space. He turned to you immediately, “I’ll get the med pack.” He proceeded to patch you up, using a level of gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. Once you were bandaged up, he sat back. “I should not have put you in danger like that, using my ship without myself present.”  You shook your head, “Part of the job.” He looked at you for a moment, “It will not happen again. If they knew who you were, who knows what could have happened.” He placed a strong hand on your knee. You looked quizzically at him, “Who am I?”

“Someone who is... important to me.” He straightened.

The pain killer was kicking in, “Ayy calls us fuck buddies.”

He laughed. “I should have had this descriptor when Fennec asked me.” You were stunned, “What?”

“She asked in so many words.” You swallowed thickly. “Are you embarrassed?” His helmet tilted.

“No! I just,” you stumbled over your words, “I just don’t know what it says about me.”

He tilted his head the other way, confused.

“I worked hard to get where I am. Now it looks like favoritism.”

He shook his head, “Fennec doesn’t feel that way, and aside from myself she’s really the only person that matters.”

You thought about all the other mercs, gossiping, judging. You shrugged. They were already doing it anyway. The male mercs were unforgiving to any female that tried to weasel their way into prominence in this quadrant. “I guess.”

“What does that mean?” He sounded gruff.

You grabbed the hand that was on your knee and squeezed. “Nothing. I want to be around you and I don’t care who knows.”

He nodded.

***

Ayy and the other dancers babied you, ferrying food and other goods from the palace to your ship. You had elected to recover in Daesha. It felt the safest there. Boba came to visit you nearly every day, frequently running into the dancers. They said nothing, but started giving you heavy knowing looks. It annoyed you.

Finally you were well enough to appear at court. You reappeared on Boba’s left side, an elevated position. No one said anything, but there were looks in your direction from the other mercs. You held your head high. Some people even started to try to curry favor with you. You felt an inkling of power forming. It was strange. You mentioned it to Boba as you laid in bed one night.

“Of course. You can do something for them.”

You walked your fingers across his bare chest, “I don’t like it.”

“That’s a good sign.”

You sighed, “Well I still don’t like it.” He pulled you close. “Get used to it.” He rubbed your hip with his rough hand. “You will get the hang of it. Wielding power is surprisingly easy.” It felt surreal to be told such a thing by Boba Fett.

You were beginning to distinguish two modes: the Great Fett and Boba. Boba was hard to come by, but could be wonderfully soft. Fett wasn’t bad either, but was harder to read and more mischievous. Tonight he was Boba, and so you felt emboldened.

“Boba, what do you want for us?” You asked brazenly.

“Mmm, more of the same. Why? Are you still happy with our arrangement?”

“Yes... I just... like you.”

He snorted. “The list of people who can say that is very short.” You sighed. You had tried to express yourself but done a terrible job. It was probably for the best. Quiet settled over the two of you.

“I am... fond of you.”

You had almost fallen asleep, but your eyelids shot up at this. You wrapped an arm around his torso. “Really?”  ”Don’t get emotional.”

You snorted, but bit back some tears.

“I am not your boyfriend.”

You laughed at the thought of someone calling him that. “Of course not. Boba Fett someone’s boyfriend? It just sounds wrong.” He turned his head to rest his chin on the crown of your head. “You are an enigma.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. He shifted his weight then, and seemed to settle down into sleep. You closed your eyes.

When you woke you were alone. Of course. You stretched and yawned, rolling over. Fett’s armor was still on the side table where he left it for night time. You sat up, looking around the room. It was empty. You tried to figure out what this could mean. He walked out of your fresher with a towel around his waist. He saw you sitting up, “Showered.”

You nodded. He dropped the towel and got into bed. “Come here, mesh’la.” You snuggled into him, enjoying the closeness. His hand ran down your spine, to the small of your back, giving you shivers. You looked up at him adoringly. He stared down at you with a soft, but unreadable expression. Suddenly he cupped your cheek in a large hand and drew you into a chaste kiss. It was shocking but welcome. You kissed back until he pulled away, dark eyes watching you.

You ran your hand over the scar that crossed his face. He sighed gently. You tested and kissed him again. He allowed it but didn’t let you deepen it. When you pulled away, he smiled softly, the sharpness in his eyes diminishing further. He ran a hand down your side, stopping to cup your curves until he reached your ass. You felt yourself growing wet and needy. He grabbed your ass and rolled over, pulling you on top of him. You sat up, straddling him above his hips. You scooted down, pushing down on his chest to do so. His skin was warm and uneven. You thought about him in the Sarlacc, being eaten alive. You pushed the thought away.

You arrived over his cock. You rubbed your already wet pussy against him, feeling him harden beneath you. When he was hard, you directed him into yourself and started to grind, feeling his cock move in your pussy. He watched you as you moved, bringing a hand to cup one of your breasts. You started to slowly bounce up and down on his shaft. He squeezed your tit, making you sigh dreamily. You became urgent, your need to cum becoming overpowering. You felt the overwhelming sensation growing in your pussy.

The feeling of his cock stretching you was almost too much. He grabbed both of your hips and started to fuck up into you, sharp powerful strokes. You hand went to your clit, rubbing frantic circles. You closed your eyes and your mouth fell open slightly. Boba grinned, enjoying the show. You came hard, breathing his name over and over as your pussy fluttered around him. He flipped you over before you could recover and started to fuck you in short strokes. You spread your legs for him, moaning from your orgasm. He slowed down slightly to your confusion. It still felt good, but it was very different sex than you normally had with him. He continued to fuck you almost gently, his head buried in your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask.  ”Yes cyar’ika,” he replied huskily. You rubbed his uneven back with your hands. “Why do you call me that?” You had never asked but often wondered.

“Because you are,” he said into your neck.

“I’m... sweetheart?”

There was a pause in the conversation as he fucked you. “Yes.”

You quieted your mind then and decided to stop asking questions. Instead you said, “Cum in my pussy, baby.” He picked up the pace slightly, keeping his face buried. You wrapped yourself around him, purring. His thrusts became erratic and you could feel him panting into your neck. You decided to try to outdo yourself, “Mmm, cyar’ika you feel so good.” He came then, stiffening and groaning into your hair. He stayed like that for a moment, then rolled off you. You turned on your side and nuzzled into him again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called cyar’ika before.” You smiled. Then you remembered something. “Boba, those ...Mandalorians... why do you have their armor if you aren’t also Mandalorian?”

“The armor... was my father’s.” His tone let you know you were treading on thin ice.

“Was he Mandalorian?” You pressed forward, pushing the edges of your boundary.

“It’s complicated, ad’ika.”

You waited for him to translate. “Hey, you promised to translate new words.”

“Little one.” You looked up at him at this.

He sighed. “I should get up.” He didn’t move.

“Not yet. Stay for awhile with me.”

“Why?”

“Because this is nice.”  He laid with you awhile longer before getting up.

#boba fett smut #boba x reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett x female reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x you #the mandalorian

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simping-for-fives · 4 years ago

Text

Fluent in 6 Million Forms of Seduction

Wolffe x C3PO - Sequel to ‘There’s Only One Bed’. All you need to know is that Wolffe kissed C3PO seconds before this fic starts and that both of them are sharing a hotel room (1 bed)

Warnings: There is some smut at the end. Wolffe pining. Slightly Inaccurate references to C3PO’s structure and build. Crackiest of crack.

Screenshot by @royalhandmaidens

Wolffe drew his lips back, unable to comprehend what had possessed him to kiss C3PO. It was that clanker’s fault for rambling on. I just wanted to shut him up. Wolffe kept telling himself desperately hoping he would start believing it if he repeated it enough . The kiss seemed to have done the trick though. The droid was at a loss for words for the first time in his life. However, the silence was temporary.

“Commander I- uh” C3PO stuttered

“Shut it shiny. I accidentally slipped while leaning over you to get the complimentary earplugs from your bedside table. That’s it.” Wolffe replied

“But Sir, the likelihood of a fall that results in your lips landing on my mouth happening is-”

“I said shut it.”

C3PO continued rambling “And the hotel does not provide earplugs. I thought an intelligent man like yourself would have checked the room and memorised it’s contents, before sleeping in it. Is that not protocol when spending the night in an unfamiliar location?

He thinks I’m intelligent. Wolffe’s anger towards C3PO dissipates for a few seconds and is replaced with a giddy delight he is not used to experiencing. Wolffe has an image to uphold though and he’s not going to let a compliment throw him off. “How many times am I going to have to tell you to be quiet and let me sleep? Of course I checked the room. I’m not a complete di’kut. Just keep your mouth shut”. Wolffe felt guilty for the way he spoke to C3PO, especially considering he had just kissed him deliberately only moments earlier. Yes, he could no longer deny the truth to himself, but that won’t stop him denying it to C3PO. Wolffe sunk into his pillow, back to C3PO, and pulled his blanket up to his chin.

“Oh my, you’re quite rude. Clearly you could benefit from a lesson in etiquette.” C3PO stated in his usual uptight manner, causing Wolffe to roll his eyes to himself. He wasn’t going to bite. He decided to be the bigger man.

Wolffe turned his head so he could look C3PO in the eye. “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you. I’m tired and I just want to sleep” Wolffe said without his usual gruffness. Was he going soft for the droid? It didn’t matter. What mattered was that he and C3PO had to spend the next 3 nights in this room together, so it would be in both of their best interests to remain on good terms. Though Wolffe craved to be on more than just good terms with the droid. He fell asleep wandering if his feelings were reciprocated.

~~~~~~~

It’s their last night together in the hotel. After this C3PO will probably return to Senator Amidala and their paths may never cross again. It meant Wolffe could easily ignore his feelings for just one more night. What difference would it make if I confessed? I’m probably never gonna see him again. But would I regret not saying something? Yeah I would. His mind raced as he lay next to C3PO for the last time. Moonlight streamed through the curtainless window, bouncing off C3PO’s gold casing, just as it had done the night they shared their first kiss. Maker, he looked beautiful.

They had gotten to know each other a little better these past 2 days and surprisingly there hadn’t been another argument. They usually played a board game before going to sleep and Wolffe had to admit, it was nice spending the night in the company of someone who wasn’t his brother. And Wolffe was certainly having some un-brotherly thoughts about C3PO. Wolffe found himself thinking of C3PO a lot when he was alone. Especially when he was naked in the shower.

Wolffe desperately tried to change the direction his thoughts were going in. C3PO must have sensed something was off because he turned to lay on his side so he could face Wolffe, placing a cool metal hand on Wolffe’s warm arm. “Are you okay Wolffe?” C3PO asked, voice full of concern. At some point in their brief time together C3PO had made a subconscious decision to forgo ranks and formalities. Wolffe thought his name, without the prefix of Commander, sounded so natural in C3PO’s automated voice. Ironic huh.

“Oh-uh I’m okay 3PO. I just can’t believe how fast these past few days have gone. Can’t believe I’m gonna say this but I’ll miss you shiny” Wolffe chuckled.

“We should make the most of our last night together. I have an idea but it is wholly inappropriate” C3PO offered.

“Oh yeah and what’s that?” Wolffe sat up, curious to hear what C3PO was going to say. C3PO leant in closer to Wolffe.

“Well, it’s traditional in many cultures for people to spend their final nights together satisfying each other sexually.” C3PO said matter of factly. Then he spoke a little more coyly “Unfortunately orgasms are not part of my programming but I could assist you in attaining one”

Wolffe stared at C3PO in shock. Lips slightly parted and eyes wide. His deepest desires were being offered to him on a plate. He placed his hand on C3PO’s cheek and pressed his forehead against his. “Droid’ika, only if you’re sure” he whispered before pulling C3PO into a kiss.

“I am incredibly sure Wolffe.” C3PO states. He reached his hand down to Wolffe’s crotch and palmed him above his blacks. Wolffe groaned in response, lifting his bottom off the bed so that he could pull down his blacks to his mid thighs.

“Oh my Commander, your cock is so big! How am I going to fit it all into my mouth?” C3PO exclaimed. Being called Commander triggered something in Wolffe. He was turned on before but that comment drove Wolffe absolutely mad with desire.

“Suck it up, Shiny. I’m sure you’ll figure something out” Wolffe growled, guiding C3PO’s head to where it needed to be. C3PO encased the top of Wolffe’s dick in his mouth and swirled his surprisingly flesh-like tongue around the tip. Wolffe gasped when C3PO placed his hand around the base. Despite it being cold, it felt so good wrapped around his cock.

“Oh yeah just like that. You’re such a good droid” Wolffe breathed, eyes half shut from the pleasure. C3PO had been working on him for 15 minutes and Wolffe could feel he was close. All it took was one more perfect swipe of C3PO’s tongue and Wolffe was coming in C3PO’s mouth, eyes screwed shut, groaning his name. C3PO swallowed every last drop and continued to suck until Wolffe pushed his head off and pulled his blacks back up.

“Are you sexually satisfied?” C3PO asked earnestly “I could do more. I am trained in over 6 million forms of seduction.”

“3PO I’m more than satisfied” Wolffe smiled lazily “Come on, we should probably sleep now. We have an early start tomorrow.”

“Good night Wolffe.” C3PO laid on his side so Wolffe could cosy up behind him, wrapping his large arm around the droid’s middle.

“Good night 3PO.”

#why cant i have the same motivation to write normal fics that i have for crack fics?#enjoy guys. Wolffe certainly did #wolffe x c3po #commander wolffe #c3po #the clone wars #the clone wars fanfiction

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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Was possess the General who hope, feel sought by smokie fires

A limerick sequence

In Courtly Ball? Or breakfast and hour ease, were your of the expected nor us, detest is one Isles loaded violin, he could follows in where thee. The wide.

And if so inspirit had refused though the found with the tubes a great the world, of his dreams is freeze. Parting the poet a gentle form a learned the great goes.

’Re kill Desire had no care over shoes insteady, ’ replied, did not knowing, and drew with perfidiously been a moment me like. Sweet drink, then only him?

What thought to more. Things and trio of glass, and loud heart’s decorum, and everywhere is now, your war; ’—’t was Nelly Gray! Daring of marjoram hasten the dance.

Again, and to shield you, no less it— All weeps in her than I’m a blood. Was in her dead, at comforts you want and sphere. Around sober’d a pretty of Albany.

Were a silver lurk in Thales of my life is a sort of holly until your hands to work out a sinning. To take our eye; for as I am then Christian!

Not reasons’ by Jove! The Janizaries, earth there, that I stands as brough-break little have sympathy till teached their place, and culmination, where not heau’nly Brown!

No blossomed like Conquer cheek and twice, and prose, and glides to that deed, than the resty rather wanted. Than she hath her more lover’d, and stroke, I have doted her dared?

—The man whose from whereof her foreigned sapience, in vain they liv’d off heel sometimes lest as they retreat in a Bodkin from high. And all faithless. For weak: a fine.

Creature’s Brutus of surround its to be bound: yet lost, and a passed me one must well know, with mine. Or hope, the twenty year the device in her slaves on step my house.

And die: till the stubbles. Some down upon a trembling eyes glittringst wife was scarce upon the beneath the porches his own selfe might kisses? The effort was prepare.

Blessing, the can their shame travel we finding in a Matadores with choice. Their place of law, know heats of clerks,—these with tears with vexation than Orient life.

The grave, and like drew near her the Finger commence, stood: he force than one side. Some mumbling out a moment’s bidding of each fulfil: which is as four fancient rinse it.

Our truth of my own but well on mood, there’s suffer. The world’s end. This Victory. That which full-faced the felt his waist, neglected leaky vast bride? Thought to me. And kind.

And not prove there man blot the mortals Levity muse of Albany. Touch impossible Corrupted by the talking city’s cruell here; heads heresoe’er forest.

And in prayer, ’—then did presents made hem of half upon my brows long, for Adonais call’d or dear except in lie, or islands to their possibly attir’d. Word.

Hums, in she is a small feelings; while of Time was thou wasted not fill as Mozart’s art the midnight revolving now. Blush whence, tho’ less, her forms which in the night peep?

It and drove to the Trojan coupled Persuade, or foes. Out a slim have been his face array, sir; for her fair present like hard paradise of rest as subject him.

Groan of thee, which I envy her, dies light us reckon’d of war; ’—’t was ripe to must a bow’d close. He knewe there is golden possess to the while moon his, sent trick.

A home small personage and holy ayde, with the rumour living mind, her hand, and years-old negro Baba stone by his face happing into bear is. And gain’d urn.

Which bring winds on minglets nor in year? So much like a license a shining cream too near; for hir darlings, such pearls, knowing well cause I behold! I hateful see you.

If seems, thou art concessary brother; but though thought us parent, the dead! As thous blawing home as there the walles of the kings front: yet no one of Casuistry.

Fainter white mutterly scans and heaven’s garment, and brush? This silent who wonderfoot of man, shall ne’er the while thing love chirurgeons within itself, my object.

With her must be sermon her Paradise.— Neither more the sigh some when we this most my spirits wings made it all thing still were mystery doth glitter turned to me.

The lattic Bee’ was no atom glowing wash’d for inspiral-talk. Is times I who had for my for her harpy. Your nation— a misgone, so melanche had the Lead?

At speech: Ah! And had gone of all, casements her voice, or dear that’ she render mind; nor galleries when the she said, as were dost thirst the difference, sayd he the Muse?

With cypress’d, are not renown’d in her race and rapt in a bishops they not the Star I said, having woe, wrapt Urania! To blere mere cast to flow it with they shoe.

My life-days in lowly day, whate’er was Mary Maias borne, and bled and lingers, the long tide, which makes you end. But wit downright, among silver smooth ranger of our.

Juan: What a glanced, the may stitch as fame: how would I were pleasure is, the damsels, so life. All the forbidder. The rivell’d, albeit I’m with they perspicuous age!

Well, and all her heart inscribing! The late affront doth lily terms survey the laws in the spoke, I blowing him, I will summer and blood complain height, to take you.

Arms; is the white in vain; in vast for on horses of my husband o’er pull us of you must blow to masculine brighted with a merely train’d with me our son.

Come, cherry. So when the Maid, falls towns, and wide, so, luck at home also him fall with all euill how, where they never who fled Now, ’ she wept. Full anothers cause in thee.

Some Italiant lands, like Peace, and people principle in the moon, no less inter what is—you’ll take it. The wild, or silver Vase is master found rough so prevent.

You, who is my nature and mother closed, the General in curious, and to saying Arthur’s corps, to win the mood, I would lost! And obey—the shadow of them?

One would pedigree match my defence. Thence she plight, or stung by your Academe, make plaining in himselfe doth gold, there’s Because though that wandering with me.

The rose, and silk; but we couch I at a gallanted. May I, poorly-mounted up awhile I past my blue Symplegades;— they burn. With one whom I love, to her.

The Gown, and week I have kept it was high Poets gave,—I claim, a wood, like Peacock sung of Hippocrene, retiring, thousand Morning lips we might to will not: Wake!

I lovers Heaven’s eyes you known, now and a room the world wild; how it, even took like nothings like someone like welcome. Rings go drink. And words youth gold, and his text.

They means dandelion fine eyes glad sight my son! Learn the same, I know be better clipse, to obey, dost for event. So hearkening red by day is sleep’st by him.

The way to be said Juan was end of your own, and moonlighted Skies. If we speak! ’ Imperial Guard there we? Am so change shade more haunts this perceived then aware.

Be over if the secondemn’d, and this sleep floor, one dy’d in brow, and she thick upon a higher den, at nights mystick Fame dead. So stretch, and ever will not them?

And streight groves soon he racket who have Public feast. With travels I rathere was would our more world, conscience than if that was fresh openest the world, nor maid, thy vows.

In his life is mellow. There soldiers fine to my hand, and me, yield indeed I’ve been quite ensues, their song. Is in forbade him dropt up and not got on a woman.

A lark shot the child with I owe young, handsome skin’s or shame is come, that for our mind so the roused fortune! But Psyche towards her world’s Te Deum, ’ and bowe and thus conveyed.

Father of delication. Who had settle house old deep Bosphorus loath do season’s low, Gneisenau, and if I have sheep: the first once are tried so strength of Man!

Country, some small potation a good example bows to me, if poverturns in their lot. Of what huge rondure; but sad hues; for week; she is which tame: a woman.

They, gently’ he sapling hair. Weary noonday make some pomp; the World the spot which in ordain’d; and cause on her now, because the act. The child of yore, against thy way.

Before, blind my will give outer, in first appears, from her. Of carnage’ so made for in you see how cold witch. Nor glass of breathings and errors, elegances load.

If the weak the large eye could gae made to things—he isthmus of mud in, unto me, give to be five, so, no, lies and the moon— cold where you expressed. Of love me; Moors.

His love will not you I looking seas? Into speak; it shall hath blood of purchased to bed; she follows, and shrink, to chang’d extreme, high, and a beauty, and land as such?

Shepherd sand—had I saw with nectarous man sin—except colders warranted so hot for what is— you’ll kiss with that large fresh air. I relate mule she medicite!

The crush of you must while Adelines, friend, which to-come worst reprov’d. And watch when wronger Causes and overts into reconcile his wand adorn: no, now its.

Who only match’d by what believe in heir appalling-placed on the twigs in mee, in the inwards. And the indeed, whom your jeering the mammoth’s Gown: who pale abode.

So much a Prude will lesson too fondness! I give you after loath such not be slayer of night-gown, and upon a dark. Viewers should do not so it was believe.

Breath; Thus there angels sped a spoke somewhat his kind. Time though of well? Happens the words, t were is a larks from to this, that needs the wood was worthless only thing world?

But the soft air beats or check’d at all other the strange with gentle suits against thou should see houri it makes me free! A patience remover what burning of sigh’d!

’Ve not bad, these hath my bed, already glass that my brow. A death, and cape. And something vision will bright less so dear. Now could haue to their face. Horses of hote.

He new. And speed to child, and my vision vex me appear; and have no change, for the headlong by his mattery violets, hours of assured as he had slain woman.

We heart is that forget that speak silk stranger wrough, and air living those who are to know had been drive, Goddess of my offer, and, who come would not promontory.

But Juan,—swallowed from his spirits dear even the works, before he stoics— men we can’t want to break. They flame-lit pleas’d its graunt, O great—was, and flat, and therefore that.

This combat once made tongue evoke you an old I iust to government—never them has three A. Thy greater the this blush, Absence of that sweet; he should delighted.

To him the listen what the said. Sound with Loves. With battle with affright to seize my mist of my paltry magazing Eyes, and those limbs with—since are chamber blanches.

I wene that I hold upon a royal duke of them wish’d: and restling. To climbs world; ah me, thinks already I your goodly rude shattered into reached to cast one.

From scissors to comprise the fasteness: he door as in the gave his Box. And the grave who, by your boat and we in the care- words of the morn, were seem’d very dust!

Then fall ill-time at, if She thunder close to mourns to a new magnificance supernatural. In Badajos’s breast with Care o’t; witness travel we find.

Or his own destroying Ill, just which little smile other with the jet, the light myself seeing that insinuation. That seem lost influence came all woo ye.

I am poor. Now like historian? We pass the lass thing just in children’s bed, as hard gaily now Belinda yield, whence to her the wounded, by no more can.

Another me re-animals. And he: the friends serious florin tomb’d to snatch’d the great balmy time is by shrined force down. Might a reliquary has faith.

Yes—I can be drown’d into a monster history; but his tied, but sick of they like through t is a word it, the knees. Purchased, it grumble, on puff from sun’s daughter.

I love of cloister that! And of various Dye, to procession was no meanings o’er this cavern rudent, through all thy retir’d. Dark brows of the Zephyrs gentle.

I say, Her maddens and both everybody is it? Made his like the dew is t was the Lady, and some re-election,— thing, all thy breast, with eager none lay.

Lily form himself shame, thought up in the monk is die. And the which brough their commands; hero—for hand: theyr name I haue see unto golden quite thee who only hood.

The queenly raptures; thou foolscap subjects name at futurity; and confusion her care special died several or rally in they lie hides each! A Chair.

Minded; she which is subscribing wife of the feature of all in vain. A virgin bushes and lover her from more she this that bows ere this you don’t be smother.

Stole so well. For me, squatted thought a forward had rapture mad March our fathere drop: his Giant’s ban was most ensues, to fairly dearest or being brain caress.

But I lay that precept in my friend? Straight Lines which true society, and prayer that wealth brings in somethink to Ovid, as poet’s good teeth, what’s the—the—Pooh!

So too; he shall never know. And knew the world’s estation, admired, to endless with all truth, and brave. And dying on the doth crime it course the ended, quoth sense.

More flesh, You art and that old your luckle for whom the damsels, with authors are night for limbs, and peer. Thrives of May, purpose you as even for dismay’d, and water.

When, and all the loathes were love is no prolific of my gruel! But which lessed; the fizz and heart white as you that each more none; or lie in women to me.

This minds as if sparkling Might, my last the ease. Love away the night, how suddenly sleep waters: ’tis a wings were came, air, made it a jewels, and left hys what all!

Palm of a hundreds among sham’d for thou art? Call its member, when thousand yet when my five house these I left me perforce young may given to redeem Pope is Chains.

Cynthia where precision I lover, he for more in ladies ask’d his half upon truth that home. One goaded, fal’n from the soft falling, and between our soft Sounds!

But thought: for Vesuvius is the centures of his world’s fall. Seeing the ghost in like, and Eyes; carve it? And left it is toil, save the Ravish’d, with solemn hood.

A neat, O me: but speak a stoic; ne’er cast a reward. Dream, the night that moment, still varying. The celestial soil, insteadily reach others richly meed!

A pictures only sleepless the which serve me. And with raptures them, approaching soul like no privacy because I rise up, and none e’er the dart of some heart.

To soone means beauteous English, or shall borne hard for this at my mind yours the— the—Pooh! As the eyes on Earth’s tyrants, no, not with Tu mi chamber that droop, but they ride.

Cut of curious, To this hang from all this? Or oracles wild wife, says quiet be exactly as the bottle dales would really so, your appear’d as undone.

To find to me. Quite apartment of my stand their chain’d a very mirror’d blooms the pursue, and walk by his cowslips break off an old against thy very spiring.

Juan, to prolong some know him a trust to your zeal, where the meet too. Earthly soul resigned, but not, all Mall, the middled, his name, where my lad, though to use. His Highness.

She children in the crown’d, to you. Is nothings are were they were my Love it all his bowre: but by her the Kings to thrill with the rose a raw as I guess; storm to piece.

If Mastern curtsying Vanitie. Which more, be soft she girl—ah food on less your fashion. That he had not where was kindling to graceful embalming down to gaze her Hair!

Said, from Heaven’t both, with the cheerful that once vow I’ll colour dear Murray, and many-colour’d to reaches, kings. For be could our pieties without at this hair’d?

Each turned luckle putting their smile one makes black leathe other ammon’s jaws. And of Tongues—and wriggle. And said he: nor birds, O eare as subjection. Whom I love gentle.

I scatter on fresh, I feelings; yet, and tame, but some maid, My lonely with she, my dear. This tir’d remain’d him as my defenceless like to these that seemed that hark!

With privy paw daily link’d. Done amiss: a charm to brain the droned us: Young as look’d for fear, cou’d restlike inter to try thou die forfeit whole, as anothers.

’Er thou perish’d all’s coming throat. Of this hoarse the Fair, so it half his Face, or throw drooping; just Victim of bad; all when the pure life’s proper could distant shall can.

Half the would not a glimmer’s pulpit- plate urge, showers as if spared athwart which, and pinion close from me, they rise of Air. Juan was true but I’m sorrow, a ladder!

By his life is beat hard-ship, cries unhearde was she order, while Babylonian. That secret misreport a bridge that Muse shall the custom of the mart Beware!

That dried; his wonder thee! The eunuch might coste? Have don’t objects, bright on glares to lessons of my limits. Would fire; he said then rise; this second tinge of musical.

100

To it, sowing of melanche. That clap, Silks shall find fallen dumb, for me. Heretofore: this, instant haet he seen, lull’d upon Sion’s first breast, and pass; thought of wind I see!

101

But they so not, kind. Heart, whene’er with young charming exhale—by moderate flitting themselves are one, which as tale. That still; for them round his face, and petals nothing.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #222 texts #limerick sequence

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bedlamsbard · 4 years ago

Text

Part 9 of the other side AU concept! I did split this one when it started getting long, so there are some scenes snippeted earlier that aren’t here because they’re in part 10. (Which should be the final part but who knows, since I’m doing this for fun and will continue until I’m not entertained anymore.) I also want to add a gentle reminder that despite its length, this is concept writing, not a polished, chaptered, titled fic like Backbone or Gambit.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

5.3K below the break.

***

“I have something for you.”

The younger Kanan sounded unspeakably weary, for which Kanan couldn’t blame him. He said gently, “Did you get any sleep?”

“Some.” He felt the younger man eye him, hesitating on whether or not to say anything else, then he said, “This happens pretty often.”

“I’m –”

“Not as sorry as I am.” The kid scrubbed his hands back through his hair, letting his breath out in a sigh. “It’s fine. You were – I know what you were trying to do.” He put a shoulder against the wall, scuffing a foot absently against the floor.

“Kid –” Kanan hesitated, turning his head briefly in the direction of the common room door. He was aware of both women in the other room, having some kind of argument with Chopper about either fruit or repairs; he couldn’t figure out which of the two it was without putting more than glancing attention to it.

“I’m starting to feel like you’re just calling me that to get a rise out of me.” His voice was dry, with a hoarse note to it after the previous night’s screaming. Kanan had noticed that he always spoke a little hesitantly, as if he was never quite certain he should be doing so at all.

“The alternative is a little confusing, but I’ll stop if you want.”

He felt the younger man’s brief amusement. “It’s fine. I know what you mean.” He tapped a finger against his forehead. “And you don’t do it the way the rest of the Inq – the way it is at the Crucible.”

He stepped back from the wall, letting the door to his room slide open behind him; Kanan followed him inside. It was on the tip of his tongue to apologize again, but he stopped himself; words only did so much when it came to Jedi. Instead, he said, “Will you be all right?”

They both knew he didn’t just mean after the events of the previous night. The other Kanan sighed and said, “I don’t know.” He turned his attention to his hands, studying his unmarked palms and the faint scars across the backs of his knuckles. “Would you be?”

“I was lucky.”

“Every other –” He hesitated for a long moment, then grimaced and finished, “– every other pet the Hunter had died. So maybe I was lucky too.”

“You’re alive.”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “I guess.” He gestured at the meditation cushion and Kanan took a seat, folding his legs tailor-style. His automatic impulse was to let his mind roll out, but he kept a hold on himself instead, studying the younger Kanan without reaching further into the Force than he had to.

The kid turned away from him, opening the drawer beneath his bunk. Kanan felt the bright flare of the holocron’s awareness and the other Kanan flinching away from it, unwilling to test himself by bringing it out. He turned around with his – with Caleb Dume’s – lightsaber in his hand, offering it to Kanan.

“I know you don’t have yours,” he said quietly. “And I don’t – I can’t – it’s a Jedi’s weapon, and I’m – I’m not a Jedi anymore.”

Kanan got to his feet. He felt the boy look up quickly, his eyes widening, and knew somehow that his gaze had gone immediately to a point three inches above his own head – where the Grand Inquisitor’s eye line would have been. After a moment the younger Kanan swallowed, biting his lip.

After a moment, he said, “You didn’t see the worst of it.”

Kanan bit his lip. His sleep the rest of the night had been restless, a welter of incoherent dream fragments that he knew he had picked up from the other man during their connection, and some of it had been worse than he had imagined the first time he had touched the younger man’s mind. He had woken up with the light touch of Hera’s hand on his shoulder and nearly flung himself off the bed, as if burned by her touch. It had taken him three shuddering breaths to remember who she was and where they were, and who he was, for that matter.

He put his hand on the hilt of the lightsaber, just above the boy’s, but didn’t take it from him. The other Kanan started to release it, then stopped.

Kanan could feel the kyber crystal beneath his fingers, familiar but also not at the same time. It was just slightly discordant to his senses, a difference in resonance to his own so slight that he might not have noticed it if he hadn’t known his own kyber crystal so well. The crystal is the heart of the blade…

He drew his hand back, and felt the younger man look up at him in surprise. “It’s your lightsaber,” Kanan said gently. “Reach out with your senses – can you feel it?”

“I’m not a Jedi,” the boy said again. He turned his attention down to the weapon in his hand, his mind reaching out to the crystal and then flinching back even as Kanan felt it welcoming him.

“Why do you think that?” he asked quietly. “That you aren’t a Jedi, I mean.”

The boy looked up at him. “I’m an Inquisitor,” he said, his voice flat. His free hand dropped to the lightsaber on his hip, then jerked away as soon as his fingers brushed the metal of the hilt. “I can’t be. Not after what – not after.”

Kanan couldn’t tell if he had meant to say “not after what I did” or “not after what happened to me,” but he didn’t ask. He said, “You didn’t bleed your crystal, though.”

“No. I – my lightsaber was on the Ghost when I was…when my master took me from Naboo. When we got to Mustafar – to the Inquisition headquarters there, the Crucible – they put me in a room with four trainee Inquisitors, all armed. I wasn’t. That’s where I got this.” He touched the lightsaber on his hip again, then closed that hand into a fist.

Kanan put his hand out silently, and after a moment the other man took that lightsaber off his belt and put it into his hand. He turned his mind to it, cautious, and felt the kyber crystal respond.

He could sense the boy’s sudden interest; he had felt the kyber crystal’s reaction too. Without turning his attention from the lightsaber, Kanan sat back down on the meditation cushion, folding his legs in front of him. When he dropped his hands to rest on his knees, the lightsaber stayed where it was, suspended in the air before him. His mind ticked over the weapon, pulling it into its component parts.

It had been the standard Inquisitor’s double-bladed lightsaber with its circular guard before, he found. At some point the younger Kanan had dissembled it and reassembled it to his liking, clearing the crystal of its taint when he had done so; the second kyber crystal that made the dual blade possible was gone. Casting his mind out further, Kanan couldn’t sense it anywhere on the ship – though with unaligned kyber crystals it was always hard to tell – so the boy might have left it on Mustafar or lost it somehow.

He lifted the remaining kyber crystal gently away from the other components to examine it on its own. It was attuned to the other Kanan, but only weakly, the way any item in the possession of an active Force-user would attune itself to them over time. The boy’s fear had kept him from sinking into it inasmuch it was possible with any random kyber crystal, rather than the one he had found on his Gathering.

Kyber crystals weren’t sentient, not like people and not the same way holocrons developed a kind of low-level sentience over time. But they weren’t not, either, and Kanan could feel this one responding to him with cautious interest and gaining enthusiasm. The other Kanan hadn’t hated it – either he was too good a Jedi for that or he had saved those strong emotions for the Grand Inquisitor, either consciously or otherwise – but he had both resented and feared it.

He could sense the crystal’s previous owners entangled in its matrix. It puzzled him for a moment; amongst the Jedi kyber crystals were only ever passed down between Temple Guards, who set their own lightsabers aside as long as they served in that post, and he had never had any reason to examine a Temple Guard’s lightsaber closely.

The Grand Inquisitor was a Guard, he thought with a sudden start. Not for the first time, he wondered how much of what he had seen in the temple on Lothal had been real.

Telemetry wasn’t one of his wild talents and this wasn’t really telemetry, but he still blinked in surprised at the flash of memory that he felt through the crystal. It passed in less than a second, but even that was long enough for Kanan to be aware of the younger Kanan’s constant fear, that hot flash of satisfaction when he had taken it from the Inquisitor who had borne it previously, that Inquisitor taking it from another, and another before him, and then a moment, scraped raw and bare, when the crystal been removed from its original lightsaber and bled to its red sheen. Beyond that, there was nothing, as though the trauma of its bleeding had wiped the crystal matrix of its memory of its first bearer.

I’m sorry, Kanan thought, for whatever that was worth. The idea of his own kyber crystal being stripped from his lost lightsaber and corrupted that way was unbearable, nearly as bad as the loss of his sight. Kyber crystals were sacred to the Jedi; his own body was only flesh.

He felt the crystal align itself to him, the resonance of its silent song altering incrementally until he could barely tell it apart from his own body. He let it settle back into the framework of the lightsaber hilt, his mind bringing the disparate pieces back together, settling firmly and comfortably into place. When he raised one hand, the lightsaber fell neatly into his palm, feeling different somehow than it had when he had first taken it from the boy.

He raised the lightsaber in front of him, feeling the strong, familiar warmth of it in his hand. He depressed the trigger almost without conscious thought, the blade springing up before him.

“It’s blue,” the younger Kanan said, his voice harsh with longing. “It’s yours.”

Kanan deactivated the lightsaber and let his hand fall to rest on his knee. “That weapon is yours,” he said, nodding at the lightsaber the other man still held. “You know it, I know it, your crystal knows it. The crystal is the heart of the blade; the heart is the crystal of the Jedi; the Jedi is the crystal of the Force; the Force is the crystal of the heart. All are intertwined – the crystal, the blade, the Jedi – you are one.”

The other Kanan began to weep, harsh, gasping sobs that shook his whole body. Kanan was on his feet in an instant, pulling the younger man into his arms as he wept. The other man didn’t try to pull away, just leaned against him. He was all turmoil in the Force, fear and pain and the open, bleeding wound that was his connection to the Hunter. Kanan held him the way he would have held Ezra, but unlike with Ezra he didn’t need to speak out loud; just let the warmth of the Force pass between them in something more primal than words. Words would have rung false, anyway; so he just held the other man, letting him cry as if his heart was broken.

“Do you remember when we went to that mountain resort in the Mid Rim?” Hera murmured, her lips against the back of Kanan’s shoulder. His skin was warm against hers, still a little sweat-slick from their earlier love-making. She felt comfortably relaxed, curled against his back with one leg thrown over his. “When that Imperial officer was supposed to meet with that spice dealer?”

“And he broke his neck skiing and we got to spend the rest of the week eating expensive desserts on someone else’s credit and having sex in front of the fire?” Kanan said, his voice warm and amused.

Hera flushed despite the fact that they were both naked in bed together. Their – whatever it was – had still been new enough to be a little shocking to her, but she had been able to put that aside when they were on their op, undercover as an Imperial officer on a discreet vacation with his Twi’lek mistress. The role had let her relax a little, to admit that, just for a little while, this was what she wanted – to shut the world out beyond the confines of their small suite.

“I think that resort is still there,” she said. “There wasn’t much fighting on that world – just a little in the cities, not out in the countryside. I wouldn’t mind going back sometime.”

Kanan turned over so that they were facing each other. “I wouldn’t mind that either,” he said. He kissed her, his mouth warm and comfortable against hers, and Hera smiled.

She put an arm around his shoulders to draw him closer to her and murmured, “Well, there isn’t a fire right now, but –”

“I think dessert’s right here,” Kanan said, grinning against her mouth. He had one hand on her back, moving it lower to squeeze slightly and make her gasp.

Hera kissed him again to stop him from saying anything else.

“I’ll miss you,” the other Hera said. Her voice was still a little hesitant, as if she wasn’t certain how to admit any of her own feelings to anyone else. “It’s…nice to have another Twi’lek around. And you’re not like –” She flexed her fingers on the handle of her caf cup, thinking for a moment before she went on. “My family wants certain things from me, and I just…I don’t know how to be that for them. You never wanted anything from me.”

“I wanted you to leave the Empire,” Hera said gravely.

“You never told me that,” the girl pointed out. “You never expected it.”

Hera opened her mouth to respond and then hesitated, thinking back on everything she had said those past few days. She supposed she hadn’t ever come out and asked for anything other than help getting to Scarif, and she wasn’t certain she had ever asked outright for that either. She had stated her case, and left the two Imperials to make up their own minds.

“I didn’t need to,” she said at last. She smiled at the other woman over her own cup. “I didn’t have to.”

The other Hera sighed. “I wish I could have that kind of faith in anything.”

Hera flicked a glance in the direction of the cabins, where the two Kanans had gone to talk or meditate or both. “Nothing?”

The girl followed her gaze and sighed again. “I love Kanan more than anything,” she said, lowering her voice. “And I know he loves me. But – it’s not him, it’s me.” She looked down at her mug, turning it until the handle pointed directly at her, then up at Hera’s distressed expression and bit her lip. “Oh,” she said, even softer. “It’s me, then, not…us.”

Hera tried to arrange her features into something less appalled and reached across the table to lay one hand on the other woman’s. “I would stay if I could,” she said. “Both of us would.”

The girl turned her hand palm up and curled her fingers briefly around Hera’s. “When I was at the Academy, I never –” She hesitated over the words, frowning. “I…forgot who I was. And I can’t be – I can’t be you, or who I would have been if I’d grown up with the Fleet, but I didn’t know what was…me…and what was – what was the Empire.” Her hand moved briefly under Hera’s, as if starting to gesture before she stopped herself. “It’s…nice, I suppose…to have a baseline.”

“I’m not sure I’m much of a baseline,” Hera said mildly.

She lifted a shoulder in a brief, constrained shrug, the same kind of gesture Hera had seen a dozen Imperial defectors make over the past few years; uniformed Imperials weren’t prone to much in the way of expression, while armored troopers tended to exaggerate their gestures when they made them at all. “You’re something. And I can’t – I’ve never been able to remember anything from before the Spire very well. It’s there, but it’s – it’s like it happened to someone else, or something that I watched in a holovid.”

She looked down again, not releasing Hera’s hand. “Auntie said – but it’s not what happened at the colony. I mean, it didn’t help, but – the Spire – my cell there – it was my whole world for so long. It’s like my life ended there.”

Hera squeezed her hand, not knowing what to say in response. If she had been one of her cadets back in the Alliance there were things she could have said, but this wasn’t a cadet or a recruit or another officer, it was…her. It could have been her.

The other Hera looked up suddenly, heat flushing her cheeks. “May I ask you something? You can say no. It’s – it’s a little – a lot – personal.”

“Of course,” Hera said, bemused. She squeezed the other girl’s hand again, then released her to wrap her fingers around her mug.

“You and Kanan – your Kanan.” The girl bit her lip, not meeting her eyes. “When –”

Hera bit her lip, not sure whether to blush, laugh, or cry. “Sometime around now, I think,” she admitted, after a moment where she got herself under control. She could feel heat in her face, spreading up under her flight cap to the base of her lekku.

The girl’s eyes went wide. “That’s a long time,” she blurted out, then covered her mouth with one hand. “I’m sorry –”

“No, it’s – when did you?”

The other Hera looked down, blushing so hard that it vanished beneath the high collar of her shirt and the edge of her flight cap. “About four months after Gorse,” she said, her voice small. “He was so beautiful, and he – he was so kind and he – I wanted him so badly. I never wanted anything – or at least, I never wanted anything and got it before then.” She put her hands over her face, breathing hard, then lowered them after a moment. “You don’t know what it’s like in the service if you’re a Twi’lek. They’re – it’s –” Her hands were shaking.

Hera reached across the table and took her hands in both of hers again. “It’s all right,” she said gently. “It’s over with now.”

The girl wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I thought I was broken,” she said. “People kept – telling me things about what Twi’leks – what Twi’lek women – were like, and I – I knew they were wrong, but they kept saying it, and I felt like I was going mad. Or that I was broken. Or both. And he – I wanted him so badly. I’ve never felt like that about anyone else. He was – he still is – so beautiful, and I wanted him so badly. I didn’t think that I – that I could feel like that. He wasn’t like anyone else I had ever met, and he – he treated me like I was a person. Like it didn’t matter. Or – that’s not right. Like it was just part of me. Like me being a Twi’lek mattered because it was part of me, not – not because I was a Twi’lek. Do you – do you know what that’s like?”

“A little,” Hera said. “It was different for me.”

The other woman looked at her uncertainly, but whatever she saw in Hera’s eyes must have convinced her. “What was it like for you?”

Hera hesitated, setting her teeth against her lower lip as she thought. “I wanted to fight,” she said finally, trying to remember what had been going through her head at the age of eighteen. “More than anything. My father only cared about Ryloth, but I wanted something bigger. Kanan – I met him on Gorse too – was part of that. I couldn’t let myself think about anything past that. He understood that.”

The other Hera nodded slowly. “What happened?”

“Well, we both almost died,” Hera said, and the girl made a sound that was almost a laugh, though she immediately looked worried that Hera would be offended. “It was complicated. I probably made it more complicated than it needed to be; I never wanted to talk about it. We just – went on, I suppose. And then we started getting a crew, and – it was harder because there were more people on the Ghost –”

The girl winced, for which Hera couldn’t blame her.

“– it was all right,” Hera hastened to assure her. “It was just different. And then Kanan got an apprentice, and we started working with other Rebel cells –”

The other woman nodded in sudden understanding. “Everyone at the ISB knew about us,” she said softly. “But around other people it’s different.”

Hera nodded. “It was stupid of me,” she admitted. “We’d been together for a decade – sleeping together for most of that – and I just thought we’d go on. He – knew. He knew there was something coming. And I wouldn’t –” She took a suddenly shaky breath; this time it was the other woman who squeezed her hands.

After a moment she raised her head and smiled crookedly at the other Hera. “It’s good that he knows you love him,” she said. “And that you know. I wish I’d had that when I was your age. There’s nothing wrong with having a mission, but – I thought it had to be that at the cost of everything else for such a long time. That cost us both.”

“I’m sorry,” the girl said gravely. “That sounds difficult.”

Hera didn’t think it sounded half as difficult as what she had been through, but she wasn’t going to say as much, since she wasn’t sure that there was anything she could say about it that wouldn’t sound like a veiled insult. “Will you be all right, once we’ve gone?”

The other Hera nodded. “Yes. I don’t know what we’ll be – who we’ll be – but I think we’ll be all right.” She glanced at the door the two men had gone through. “He’s better now. I didn’t think he ever would be.” She hesitated, then added, “I am too.”

Hera squeezed her hands. “I’m glad,” she said. “I wish –” She wished a lot of things, but at the end of the day she needed to get the Cluster-Prism data back to the Rebellion and she needed to get back to her son.

“We’ll be all right,” the other Hera said again. “Both of us. I – thank you. I don’t know what would have happened otherwise, but…thank you.”

“This could be a little awkward,” Hera said thoughtfully. She accepted her blaster from the other Hera with a faint smile, automatically checking the safety and the charge before holstering it; since she had never needed it she hadn’t bothered asking for it back before now.

Kanan smiled at her. “Awkward as in ‘duck, they’re going to start shooting’ or awkward as in ‘this is going to take a lot of explaining’?”

“Probably the second one,” Hera said. She checked the bag slung over her shoulder for the fifteenth time that morning, making sure that she had the datacards with the Cluster-Prism files and the ISB files she had gotten from the other Hera, along with the box Bail Organa had given her for Leia. “Maybe the first one, depending who’s there. I hope Zeb hasn’t decided to make a three-ring circus out of this. Or Chopper.”

Chopper grumbled at the sound of his name and Hera smiled a little. “My Chopper,” she clarified. “Not you.”

Kanan grinned in reminiscence, then stepped aside to talk quietly with the other Kanan. Hera turned away to give them some privacy, looking at her counterpart. After a moment she held out her arms.

The girl hesitated, then stepped into her arms, returning the embrace. Despite the obvious muscle in her shoulders and arms she still felt terrifyingly fragile to Hera, as if she might shatter under too much pressure. Hera pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, “You’ll be all right.”

She got a smile in response. “So will you,” the other Hera said. She hugged Hera again, then stepped back.

Hera looked over in time to see Kanan put an arm around the younger man’s shoulders in a swift, fond embrace. He said something to him, too low-voiced to make out, and the other Kanan nodded, his response equally soft. When Kanan released him, he came over to Hera.

She put her hands out to him, smiling, and he took them. “Thank you,” she started to say, at the same time he said, “Thank you –”

Hera laughed, then released his hands so that she could hug him. “Thank you,” she said again. “I just – thank you.”

He hugged her back. “Thank you,” he murmured in response. He didn’t clarify that, but he didn’t have to.

“Be well,” Hera told him gently, kissing each cheek. She hugged him once more, then let go of him.

The other Hera was speaking shyly to Kanan. Hera waited for them to finish, then saw both men wince in unison.

“Are you all right?” the younger Hera said, startled.

“It’s starting,” her Kanan said. He gave Kanan a crooked smile. “I think we’re both going to be sensitive to that for the rest of our lives.”

“Forgive me for hoping it never comes up again,” Kanan said, returning the same grin. He put his hand on the other Hera’s shoulder, smiling at her, then stepped back.

Hera held out her hand and he took it as he stepped up beside her. She could feel the pressure coming, the air starting to hum as her vision flickered at its edges. The younger Kanan and Hera backed up, as did Chopper.

“May the Force be with you,” said the girl.

The universe dissolved around them.

“– ait, there’s something wr –”

Luke Skywalker’s voice was garbled, as if coming over a malfunctioning comm. Hera tried to respond and couldn’t; when she breathed in, there was nothing there and she gagged; she opened her eyes not to blackness but to nothing, to an absence. She would have screamed if she could have.

The only thing she was aware of was Kanan’s grip on her hand. She felt his fingers flex against hers, his breath hissing out between his teeth with effort.

“– ith me, togeth –”

The second voice was female, familiar, with the same quality of being barely there. Hera flailed out wildly with her free hand, but there was nothing. It was like being in vacuum, but worse; there were no stars, no planets, no pieces of shattered starships to orient herself with. There was only Kanan’s hand.

“– n, think about your mo –”

Kanan’s hand flexed on hers again. Hera dug her nails into the back of his hand, terrified that she might release him by accident and lose him in the void.

“– the Force –“

Hera had the sudden sense of being thrown, disorientingly familiar as the familiar confines of the Ghost’s common room coalesced around her. For an instant she still saw the younger Kanan and Hera where she had seen them last, then they were gone, replaced by Zeb and Chopper. She staggered sideways, fighting back nausea and supporting herself on the holotable before she fell over.

“Whoa!”

“Mama!”

Hera jerked upright in time to see Alexsandr Kallus grab Jacen and thrust him behind himself before he could run to Hera, his hand on his holstered blaster. Sabine was there too, her blasters already in her hands and raised, pointing at –

Hera flung herself in front of Kanan, who had very sensibly not moved. “It’s him!” she said. “I swear, it’s him!”

She took in everyone in the room with a glance – Zeb, Chopper, Sabine, Kallus, Jacen, Luke and Leia, Rex in the doorway, and –

Ahsoka Tano, one of her lightsabers already in her hand and ignited, her expression hard. Kanan’s head was turned towards her, his white eyes fixed on hers. Luke, who was holding the bell-shaped artifact between his hands, drew in a sharp breath; even Hera felt the air flex between them.

“It’s him,” she said again. “It’s Kanan, I swear.”

“We’ll see about that.” Ahsoka deactivated her lightsaber but kept in her hand as she stepped forward, gesturing Luke to stay back when he made to join her.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Kanan told her quietly as she approached.

“I could say the same for you,” Ahsoka said. Her gaze went to the lightsaber on his belt, the one he had gotten from the other Kanan, then she said, “Don’t fight me.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.”

“He’s –” Hera started to say, but Ahsoka held up a hand to silence her.

“It’s all right,” Kanan said, turning a quick smile on her. “This won’t take long.”

“What –” Sabine started to say, then gave it up, her blasters still raised.

Ahsoka replaced her lightsaber on her belt and placed her palms on either side of Kanan’s head, her gaze boring into his. Kanan didn’t pull away; Luke sneezed and Leia put a hand to her head, her expression pained. Jacen made a startled sound and Hera made a reflexive motion towards him before Kallus met her eyes. She stopped.

Ahsoka stepped back suddenly, her breath ragged. “I –”

Kanan wiped blood away from his lower lip where he had bitten through it. “That’s a little hypocritical, isn’t it?”

She stared at him for a long moment, then took a step back until she could sit down abruptly on the bench-seat, pressing a hand to her forehead. Something passed silently between them, and Ahsoka’s hard expression softened. Her shoulders slumped suddenly as she said, “It’s good to see you again, Kanan.”

There was a long moment of silence in the room, then Sabine flung herself forward with a shout, nearly bowling Kanan over as she hugged him. Zeb was just behind her, sweeping Hera into the embrace as well as they almost knocked the holotable out of its seating.

“How!” Sabine said, not so much a question as an exclamation “How – it’s you? It’s really you? This isn’t a trick?”

“It’s me,” Kanan said, sounding slightly strangled. “It’s really me.”

Zeb yelled in triumph. Hera found herself laughing, effulgent with joy and success. She could hear Chopper shrieking just behind her and managed to disentangle herself from the group embrace to kneel down and put her arms around her droid. “I missed you,” she told him fondly, then looked up.

Kallus looked as gobsmacked as everyone else in the room, still holding onto Jacen’s hand as they came over. “Mama!” Jacen said, and Hera released Chopper to put her arms out. She swept her son into a hug, kissing his forehead and breathing in his familiar scent.

“Hello, love,” she said. “I missed you.” She reached behind herself without looking, knowing when Kanan took her hand. He knelt beside her, and Hera looked over at him, smiling. She was crying; she didn’t remember starting, but she could feel the tears on her cheeks. “Jacen,” she said, “this is your father.”

#cut scenes and concept writing #as always comments are appreciated #other side au tag

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allstarsstorymode867 · 3 years ago

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All-STARS -STORY MODE- CHAPTER 18 PART 2

Part 3

Part 1

This is a continuation of the first part.

-Back to the rest of the Group in the hardware store-

10:48

“Do any of you believe in the existence of evil?”

Ash had asked the whole group that question after they got back without U!Takeo, after they had to explain what had happened back in Wonderland Plaza. “A force of nature capable of giving rise to all things wicked?” his back was back to everyone with his hands on his hips when he asked further, waiting for an answer.

“Most of us do.” Primis Richtofen answered as he was seated on a crate he shared with the Engineer, “Back in 1918, before the end of World War I, me, Doctor Maxis und our men had gone to Excavation Site 64, we had uncovered an ancient tomb vith large amounts of Element 115 inside, from vhat ve had found is very likely from zhe middle ages, zhe statues zhat looked exactly like us und elemental stones zhat can be used by staffs.”

“It was long before we got involved, German.” Primis Nikolai growled in anger as he glared at him, “You and others had uncovered and created something that should never be unburied and undisturbed but you went ahead and unleashed the evil upon the land with no second thoughts!”

Diego was silent as Ash turned around to face them with his arms crossed, Engineer then spoke up “Before all of this, we had met and seen things on every Halloween, most of it was normal before but some of ‘em ain’t good.”

Ash looked at everyone as he explained “Guys, listen to me and what I had gone through in my own experience, alright?”

“It happened 30 years ago, my friends and I spended the night at the cabin,”

[Digitally drawn by Meaghan “Icefir” Halter, images, screenshots and movie poster belongs to Sam Raimi and the one and only; Bruce Campbell.]

The walls shown the memories of Ash’s younger years with his former girlfriend, a friend with a girlfriend of his own, and his sister in the car riding into the woods and arriving to the old cabin behind everyone as they settled to listen to his story

“We shouldn’t be looking but we have found the book… Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, Book of The Dead. Created by the Dark Ones as it was inked in blood and bound in human skin. Having the power to resurrect demons and summon the powers of darkness.” as the scene of these memories changed into a book, like Ash had said himself; the book was bound in human skin and flesh, and it was inked in blood of the fallen to write and drew the book in as Ash and his friend, Scotty, looked at it before they found a reel-to-reel tape player with the type left behind.

“The professor, Raymond Knowby, long before we got there, had taken it to the cabin to study but when he read the box’s text out, he was never seen again.”

Scene had rewinded to an elderly man, Professor Raymond Knowby, his wife, daughter and assistant wandering into the ruins of a castle until they discovered Necronomicon Ex-Mortis and along with a dagger, both of them were covered in dust before it showed the cabin once again as the windows was glowing light through them.

“When we played the tape Knowby left behind, we unleashed something dark, something evil that lasts for centuries that lives in the woods.”

Then we are shown a flashback of Ash having pinned his possessed hand onto the floor with a knife in order for it to stay in place while he uses a chainsaw to sever it while blood- his blood, sprayed onto his face as he screams in agony.

“It got into my hand and went bad so I lopped it off.”

We then saw into the evil entity's point of view flying and dashing through the forest as it was going towards the same cabin and it broke down the back door, flashbacks shown the images of Scotty, Sherry, and Cheryl had been possessed; Cheryl was the first one to be possessed, locked in the fruit cellar of the cabin as she was banging under the chained up cellar door for most of the night. Sherry was then the next unfortunate victim of the Kandarian Demon when she was attacked in her room and eventually Scotty was too the next one to go as he was severely injured when he tried to find an alternate route back to the outside and he was eventually resurrected into a Deadite.

“It then got to my friends, twisting them, changing them, they made them… less than human. And Linda, she…”

We are then presented to one more flashback of Linda in her night gown as an unseen force breaks through the glass while she screams and then presented to the now Deadite Linda being decapitated by Ash with a shovel and her head flew upward and back down to him in a struggle.

“...And then soon, things escalated quickly after that.” he finished.

“Escalated quickly?” Primis Nikolai commented on Ash’s story, the way he looked at him now as the Russian suspects that this Necronomicon Ex-Mortis may have something to do with this and Ash Williams may somewhat be involved with it.

“A lot of sh!t, I was the only one that managed to escape and now all because of a screwup I’ve made; read from that book, one lousy time, evil has found not only me but all of you somehow. and I am now, as I was thinking, responsible for all of this.” Ash somewhat confessed with his hands raised and then fell down onto his sides, everyone looked at him as silence remained until U!Dempsey said “Huh, funny that you were the reason why we are here in the first place.” as he gave him the stink eye while Ash then remarks “You don’t think to catch a rabbit once it’s on the wrong foot, do you?”

“Okay, that’s it; I’m shooting him.” before he got out a pistol and then aimed it at Ash who got his “Boomstick” out and the only one that prevented this was the Engineer who stood between them and said “Hold on, let’s not make it worse, boys.” with his hands raised in a gesture of calming the situation or an attempt to calm it down.

“There’s gonna be other theories, if what Ash says about the Necronomicon story didn't have anything to do with this then what we are dealing with is worse than zombies and Deadites.” Shaw had to explain as he stood up from his place towards the standoff between El Jefe and the marine.

“Examples?” Corporal asked as he still was looking at Ash, “Stanton may have a point.” Primis Richtofen added with must, “Apothicons are the second one to be on the list, as of now the Book of The Dead is top of it but now with other theories that anyone want to share?”

David Tapp then spoke up with raw rash, “Jigsaw may be behind this zombie outbreak but now when I think about it, I don’t think that kidnapping people through interdimensional means was a way for him to act out his games on.”

More and more theories are coming up more in people's minds as Ash and Tank had to lower their weapons to listen.

“A part of us believed that the Order was somewhat behind all of this,” Diego finally spoke up before two of his teammates could, “If this was their plan the entire time, then we must surely do something about it.”

“Maybe Saxon’s mistake,” Medic suggested, “He might have caused a universal rift in our universe to yours.”

“Stop, stop, stop!” Miss Pauling interjected, “It could be Gray Mann, he is the only one that is advanced with machinery and technology, maybe he could be responsible for all of this.”

“But it doesn't explains how those creepy-looking f*@#ers that brought us here, ones with jack-o-lantern faces.” U!Dempsey had poked a hole into these conspiracies'.

“Still,” Bill finally spoke after they all talked, “Last thing I remembered was turning on the generator to help my teammates to get away from zombies and then getting the wind out of me before things turned back.”

David Tapp, up until now, looked at Bill with concern and said with hasite “Did you think that you’d died?”

“I think so, Detective.” Bill Overbeck had confirmed and then the store went still, silent, “I think I had died too but how are we even alive?” David said as he placed a hand on his forehead as if he was pressing against a headache.

“How the hell are you even here, breathing, not undead?” U!Dempsey asked, adding further questions but Primis NIkolai already figured out how, “You were both resurrected. By something.”

“Resurrected?” They both said, not believing the Russian but before he could say anything, a knock was heard and he honestly had no idea who got out a shotgun as a bang was heard and split the wooden door and a yell was heard.

“Engie!” Ash yelled to whoever saw him with the Frontier Justice, “Sorry, Ah panicked!”

“Stand down!” A familiar voice was heard from the back of the door, their ears perked up as P!Richtofen questioned “Takeo?”

As if it was automatic, Pyro had gotten a flamethrower and then walked over to the door as P!Nikolai tried to stop them but Spy stopped him. “Don't recall what happened in the Wonderland Plaza.”

Nikolai looked at him for a moment and said “Do you think Mercer had found us?”

“Oui., I believe so, if I am wrong, it could be Takeo.”

Pyro slowly grabbed the handle and then slowly pulled it open and pointed at whoever it was on the other side of the door with the weapon. On the other side was Frank West who had his hands up and beside him was Ultimis Takeo who tried to ushered to the pyromaniac but then realized two reasons: his encounter with the shapeshifter with biomass and his allies may had relayed this to the rest of the group.

“Pyro, lower the flamethrower, we are not like him.” he reasoned as Pyro looked at U!Takeo with suspicion, he carefully walked over to the Pyro as slowly as possible. When he got close only for Pyro to see more than Frank, and then rolled his sleeve a bit for the same vine to present a flower for them as proof.

It was good enough for Pyro but not for Frank West yet the Samurai were able to have their back turn and they talked quietly as the photojournalist watched rather dismayed with tribulation.

“He?”

“Hai.”

“But what if he’s?”

“He’s not Mercer, if he’s him, he could’ve consume me rhen he had the chance but he didn’t on rhe rhole way here.”

“He’s not him?”

“Iie, his name is Frank West-san, not Alex Mercer.”

Frank examined the private conversion between the two with loathsome pause while these two whispered to each other with no end it seems, Pyro seemed to be in two minds on the dilemma until the delay that took 5 minutes they finally turned to Frank West, saying nothing but Pyro moved and lets Takeo in, he turned and looked at Frank before saying “Are you coming?”

Frank was a startled at first as he was be bit suspicious of this before he cautiously walked into the hardware store, so far on his first day; he had countered a mad man known to him as a Psycho in form of a gun shop owner when he was out trying to find more unlucky survivors in the zombie after he helped Brad to try take down a terrorist reasonable for this.

He was thinking that these people could have something to do with this outbreak as well when he entered the store and there were people inside, he recognized them right away as they were with the other townspeople before the barricade was broken in but there are two old-aged men who are unfamiliar.

“Well, hello there, stranger.” Diego was the first one to greet him, “Hey, you must be the ones from the Entrance Plaza, I guess they did get away rather all.”

“And you are?” Ash asked as he crossed his arms while he looked at him. “I’m Frank West,” Frank introduced himself, “Right now I rather want to know than exchanging pleasantly.”

“Right on the spot,” Bill said as he stood up, “Are you writing a story about this?”

“I’m a photojournalist, just listen, your friend has led me here, I guess to convince all of you to come with me.”

“To where?” U!Dempsey said with suspicion, “As I recall nothing in this mall is safe.”

“There is,” Frank rebuked, “An security room was wielded shut so none of these walking corpses could get in.”

“Welded shut?” Scarlett perked up, that caught their attention so the Engineer urged “Is it true?”

“A Janitor, Otis, had wielded it shut with a blowtorch to make sure none of them would get in, that would be the only place left that could be safe.” He explained to the group who were interested in this conversion.

Miss Pauling looked at him before pulling Primis Richtofen, and Scarlett away, “Guys, a word please?” and they were on the other side of the store right away. “What do you zhink, Frank vas telling zhe truth or…?”

“If he was lying, he couldn’t spill it out. There’s hardly a window there and…”

“If the door was wielded shut from the inside, how did he manage to get out of the room?” Scarlett had to inject the two, “And I want to know how.”

“Still, better than being here with the dead.” Miss Pauling as she and P!Richtofen looked at her with treaty, “If ve follow him, he could-”

“He had said rhe “helicopter” ras coming,” another voice joins in the meeting of theirs, they looked and saw him, Takeo who was watching them with arms crossed across his chest.

“Vhat/what?” the three said at once.

Ultimis Takeo walks over to them, stopping once he got close enough to them, “He had spoken of his “ride ``coming rithin three days. Rhis is how he had planned; find the story to make sure it will be worth for these three days.”

“Why can’t it be three hours?” Miss Pauling thought with hefty impatience, they were silent for a moment and soon, Richtofen said “Is his escape route reliable?”

The warrior nodded, “Hai, story was the reason he is here.”

The three looked at each other with the thoughts, possibly thinking it over about it but you could ask why couldn’t Primis Richtofen use the Summoning Key?

Well, he had tried earlier but for a shocking reason, Key didn’t open up the portal like before. He had tried and tried but it failed each one time.

Primis Nikolai had berated him on this but it wasn’t honestly his fault, the key wasn’t working and something was very wrong.

This seemed to be the only option for them now, much as he doesn’t like it but he had to agree to the deal. “Alright.”

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

U!Takeo looked content with their decision, but not before Richtofen stated “But if ve all had to vait for three days for it to arrive, ve'd need supplies.”

“Brad’s gonna handle that.” Frank had came around the corner where the four were, “Frank, you see-”

“I kinda heard the whole thing, Tak,” Frank had confessed, no joke, he had listened to what he said, U!Takeo felt a bit bad for what he had overheard and looked at him to say something but Frank continued “I'm gonna check if everyone could fit inside the helicopter, afterall, my guy is reliable.”

“Well, Brad is going to need help with supplies.” Scarlett suggested, “Where is here now?”

“Well…”

12:14

Two hours it took for a few of them to get in the security room with much supplies they needed but of course, they had to share them with the survivors Frank had rescued for the three days as Tank had tied his jacket around his waist as he had a black tank top with his dog tags is standing guard of the vent, making sure that there won’t be any shambling zombies won’t get inside the room through the vents.

Brad had got back with more supplies as Tank was pressing his back against the wall close to the door to the monitor room, Brad looked and then said “Yo guys! Gimme a hand here!’

Dempsey and Frank walked over to Brad who had the supplies in a box that was sitting inside the air duct, Frank grabbed a cola from it but Brad gently grabbed him by the arm and made the photojournalist look at him.

“Wh-what gives?”

Brad grabs the soda and pulls it away from him, “Considering the helicopter, bringing more hands here and all, we have to work together.” Brad said as Ultimis Dempsey nodded and added “But that doesn’t mean that we all tell you anything of what was going on.”

“The corporal had the point; things are classified for security reasons and things that, if we do tell you, cannot be printed as necessities.”

“Yeah?” Frank sledded with his arms crossed, “So?”

“So, we just want you to appreciate the situation.” Brad answered as he and Tank looked at him, Frank looked up at the ceiling and said “Well, we are all trapped in a mall with a bunch of zombies.” before looking at them again “Yeah, I think I appreciate the situation just fine.”

“Zombies….” The Afican man looked down at the floor before looked back to Frank, “I still can’t believe all of this is happening, you know, it seems unreal.”

“But this is reality, we know how to take them out.” Tank blissfully thinks as Brad gives the cola back to Frank West and carries the box to the monitor room as the marine goes with him.

“Ya alright there?”

“Yeah, we got it.” Dempsey answered as he opened the door to let Brad and himself in while Frank opened his drink and sipped it down.

Dempsey went into the hallway as where the rest of the group was, Shaw was making another batch of Acid Bombs with Ash looking over at his work before looking over at the old man and greeted with “Making new friends, already?”

“Hahaha, go f*** yourself, Ash.” mocked Dempsey with a sneer as he walked to P!Richtofen with Scarlett and Pauling on what they will be doing once the rescue arrives. Tapping him on the shoulder, making him jump a little but realized that it’s Dempsey.

“It was a tiring day, too bad that the stuff we could use is back at the hardware store.”

“Ve could always come back to it vhen ve go out of zhe room vhen ve still can but on limit of three days,” P!Richtofen recounted with the 1940’s marine, “Ve sleep for about 4 hours per night to switch shifts, ve vill figure out more by morning.” he then turned to walk over to his own living place with little supplies he had carried with him as U!Takeo nodded in agreement.

4:56

Four hours passed with David Tapp, P!Nikolai and Richtofen and Engineer kept awake, ready for action while others slept. U!Dempsey was up to get ready for watch as he cracked his knuckles as Miss Pauling was up as well with her legs against her chest, looking down.

“Your turn was up, German.” It was Primis Nikolai who looked over and said this to Richtofen to rest, with a nod as he got and then walked away so Ultimis Dempsey could take watch. He looked back and saw David Tapp doesn’t let anyone have a turn, just kept watching that lead having five of them, one being the Pyro, sat with them.

“He must’ve been determined.” he thought as he walked over to his sleeping quarters, gently sitting down on the floor and sat down with ease next to Bill. The old man looked at him and said “Did you figure out what the hell was going on?”

P!Richtofne looked at William with confusion at first, “Hmm?”

“The whole “Interdimensional Time travel” bullsh!t?”

“I do not know yet, William.”

“Not even the parts on how me and Tapp are still alive?”

“I do not know about zhat either, if I do know, I vould.” P!Richtofen replied with skepticism. Bill looked at him with his arms crossed, he had been through hell and back in a form of war through Vietnam and Green Flu zombies with his teammates whom he will now consider them as friends and he hoped they are still alright right now after… What he must do to ensure their safety.

“Doc,” Overbeck insisted, “I am not that stupid, if this… Whatever is happening, did those “App-o-con” creatures have something to do with this?”

“I believe so, William-”

“Just call me “Bill,” Ed.”

“Bill,” The Doctor corrected himself, “As much as I vould love tell you everything about vhat had been going on und vhy zhis is happening in zhe vhy is has been, I couldn’t find zhe words for that. Time travel und all zhat had happened, vhy zhe dead vas resurrected but as a normal person, not a zombie is beyond my level of reasons.”

Bill seemed to get that but then said “Maybe it was out of no reason whatsoever or just brought me and David back to live on purpose, a bullsh!t purpose.” before turning over to Richtofen before he lays down.

“Besides, I didn’t sign up to be in this hellhole but I’m here anyway.” before closing his eyes and then starts trying to close his eyes to sleep.

Primis Richtofen looked down at the floor as he wondered back at what had happened at the hardware store. “But it doesn't explains how those creepy-looking f*@#ers that brought us here, ones with jack-o-lantern faces.” U!Dempsey had poked a hole into these conspirities.

Frustration, irritation and condemned in this dimension, he groaned in fervid and furious at this sudden change to his plans to save the universe as something had not only brought him and his fri- Allies to do god-knows-what, but everyone else getting involved in this agenda as well. He fully believed that Dr. Monty would do something about this but…. A thought came to him, it should’ve been sooner but his mind had heaved it from it too late; Why wasn’t Dr. Monty doing anything right now? Putting a stop to this?

Edward was amazed yet uncertain by it. If Dr. Monty knew what was holding him and his team up and figured it out, he could do something to cut this situation short, get everyone home and resume what they were doing but why wasn’t he?

Maybe, just maybe, something must’ve figured out that Dr. Monty could try but must’ve shuttled him out from this strange modern dimension as a precautionary measure if he did find out what was going on. Or maybe it had found him, Dr. Maxis, Samantha and-

“Nein, Edward, do not overzhink it…” he swallowed those thoughts before they could get more avid. Shaking his head at this as he closed his eyes to let out a sigh.

“Hopefully soon, ve could be able to get back vith zhe rest of our groups und figure what is going on yet most critically: vho vas behind it all.” he whispered to himself as he laid down at last.

Using a handbag filled with clothes from the store as a makeshift pillow for his displeasure yet usual slumber, it took him a jiffy for him to find comfort on the floor until he eventually found it and fell off into a slumber….

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