#hope if he ever gets a redemption he gets a body change though. i don't mind it but also i'm not the biggest fan of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caesthetix · 4 years ago

Text

SAY A LITTLE PRAYER — Pt. 3 No God Made A Sin

↪Eren Yeager mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, heavy angst, homicide, description of violence, established relationship, spoiler for season 4

A small, bitter chuckle slipped from his lips.

He was relieved. Eren Yeager had never felt this relief over nineteen years of his life.

A few minutes had passed since the time you were supposed to be here. He won, he could alter the future by changing some of his actions. Yes, it made you get shot before as you left since he gave you a cold shoulder in the airship, but at least that means you were not going to be here.

He was certain your friends would be extra protective over you with the wound you had right now. A little more to the right and you would end up like Sasha. The reminder alone was enough to make him shudder. Yes, he could keep you from death as long as you were not here, and he cursed himself for not trying to do the same with Sasha.

But there was only so much that a man could change.

He didn't know what would happen if he altered the event too much. Right now, he was aiming for something bigger, a future where he did not have to do evil things such as crashing the whole world to the ground.

And if this worked, if you were really not going to be here, maybe he would be given a chance for redemption after all.

Maybe from this — by being blessed with seeing how the world would unfurl — he could change the future that was supposed to be so doomed.

Now, an hour has passed. He was sure you were not going to meet him tonight, hopefully never again if that was even possible. If that means his attitude would make you afraid of him from now on, that was the price he was willing to pay.

At least you survived, at least you were going to be alive somewhere up there with the rest of his comrades.

Soon, everything would be over. And you were going to be happy living with someone else. He could see how a certain ash-brown haired scout always gave you a gaze full of affection, and he wished, in a future that was stretched out of reach for him and far from his vision, you would live a happy life.

He wouldn't have to see you cry if somehow he was the one who would say the first goodbye. He wouldn't have to endure the pain of leaving someone behind, he knew how it felt when someone you loved was taken away from you, and he didn't want you to endure such pain.

Yet at the same time, he didn't know if he could bear the fact to be left behind by you.

Ever since he saw the emptiness inside your eyes when he kissed Historia's hand, he could never erase that particular memory out of his mind. You still talked to him, resting your head on his shoulder, running your fingers on his brown hair, planting small kisses on his forehead — oh how he wondered what would you do if only you knew.

There were times when he wanted to give in, to confess his sin every time you asked him to share his burden with you. Maybe you would leave, if you knew what would happen in the future, you were going to scramble away from him, look at him as if he were a monster, just like how a lot of people saw him.

But he was so fucking selfish.

Even if he knew what would happen if you stayed with him, he still longed for you. To see you pinching Mikasa's cheek affectionately, one that made the ravenette drilling hole in your head despite how she never refused the gesture anyway.

To hear you encouraging Sasha and Connie as they tried to pull a prank on the headquarters, that mostly resulted in the three of you getting scolded by Captain Levi. There were lots of memories that perhaps wouldn't happen if only he confessed his sin to you.

And up until now, he still asked himself if there was another way to get through this hell called earth.

Without some sacrifices, without losing you and his friends.

"I hate the fact you always end up in a prison somehow."

His emerald pupils widened for a second when he heard the familiar voice. Even his reflection looked at him with horror. No, no. You were not supposed to be here, he was not supposed to hear your voice that he craved so much.

"Love, are you running out of clean shirts? Should I fetch one for you?"

The sentences, he had heard it all before. Haunting him for so many years even when he laid next to you every night. Maybe he just needed to keep his mouth shut. If he didn't say anything, you would get bored and leave. "Goodness Eren, you could at least make your bed!"

"Shut up."

He couldn't, he couldn't hear it anymore. It was too much.

"Huh? What do you mean shut up?"

Why, why was there no fear in your intonation?

"I knew you were stupid, but not this stupid."

His gaze never left the mirror in front of him. He didn't dare to turn his head and find you there at the other side of the bars, he could not let the future he saw become a reality. "Leave. I don't want to see you right now."

"Hm, don't want to."

He was flabbergasted at your answer. You were supposed to be understanding, agree with whatever he said without questioning him even further. He expected you to turn around and never come back. But rather than hearing your footsteps echo through the wall, he heard the jangling of the key instead.

You were here. Not just standing outside like a dumb visitor, you were here inside the cell with him as if the man in this same room as you right now was not someone who just literally committed genocide to a whole town.

He heard a small hum coming from your lips and some rustles of sheets being made. You really made his bed — the cold, hard, uncomfortable mattress for a criminal, treating him like he was a kind man, maybe even a God with how much you had done in your life while singing his hymn.

For you to fight, you fight for Eren.

For you to kill, you kill for Eren.

For you to live, you live for Eren.

His breath was laboured right now, every step that you took felt like a reminder that at the end, he was the one who would be responsible for whatever was going to happen next. But then again, he couldn't find it, the reason. You have been here for a while and yet he could not find the reason why he did that in his vision.

Maybe he could change the future, after all, he could only count on high hopes at this moment, deciding to stay put in his place as he stared back to his own reflection. Then he felt warm, engulfing him completely as you stood right beside him. He could see you peering at his face from the corner of his eyes, beady orbs looked at him with the same kind of love.

"You still looked as handsome as ever, Eren. You don't need to look at the mirror with that flame in your eyes!" You joked, who in the right mind would tease a man who had thousands of blood on his hand? The answer, you. The one and only. "You look at it as if it is so ugly you despise it." But he despised it indeed, he despised the man who he saw in the mirror.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head at your antics. It was surprising how devoted you were to him, you were no one but a stranger at first. But the way you cared for him, he craved for it too, since you didn't make him feel suffocated, didn't make him feel weak. No. Instead, he felt how it feels to be loved purely by heart.

Eren did not save you from kidnappers like how he did to Mikasa, he did not save you from bullies like how he did to Armin either. But you somehow looked at him as if he was God, a purpose to live, without him needing to do anything at first.

You were not possessive, you just — loved him. Scolding him when he was too much of an ass, helping him get through the training for three years in the cadet corps, showing the same excitement like Armin did when the talk of the outside world was brought up. Even though you loved him, you didn't make him feel like he needed to run away.

Maybe that was why he sought your company, the reason why with time, he was head over heels for you too.

"Eren?"

You called out, one hand resting on his naked back. Your fingers that were calloused going up and down to soothe him, urging him to take a deep breath. Yes, you were here for him. He wouldn't have to do such a thing as what his vision told him to.

"Hey."

There it was, a simple greeting. You looked at him with awe, your eyes gleaming with excitement as he finally turned his face to take a proper look at you. You looked so radiant, even if you were just bathed with a yellow hue from the torch on the wall.

Through his eyes, you were so adorable. Yes, you sure were beautiful before, but when he gazed at you, when he gave you the attention that you craved for — it was as if you have been blessed by God.

Your smile met your eyes, those orbs suddenly glimmering with tears. It had been so long, to find his eyes fell upon your face. And he felt so bad that you needed to wait for years, for him to be brave enough facing you without being afraid of what could happen.

"I missed you so much, Eren."

You didn't wait for him to open up his arms as you jumped into him. It was like you knew that he wouldn't push you away, as if you could predict his movement after being given such a gesture from you.

His arms engulfed you in an instant, reciprocating the way you wrapped your hands giddily around his neck. It had been so long indeed, and he just wanted to cry at this moment. He buried his face at the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent that could make him feel so much better.

In your arms, it feels like he was home. Your existence was enough to make him feel like a child whose task was just going home before night and running an errand to buy groceries. Now he knew why he felt so empty for the last few years.

It was because he always pushed you away.

Because he neglected the home that he was supposed to come back to.

"I missed you so much too."

And just tonight, even if it was just a few minutes, he wanted to cherish how it felt to have you in his arms once again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈〄┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He never felt comfort like this for a long time. Snuggling close to your body, taking a deep breath as he memorized your scent — he wished he had more time with you than half an hour.

"Hm, how many minutes have passed?"

He asked groggily, emitting a chuckle from your lips at how cute he sounded just now.

"I think twenty? Twenty-five?"

"What? No. I am sure it was just five minutes."

You laughed at how he scrunched his forehead, lips turned into a scowl as he realised that the time was almost up. He was pouting, Eren Yeager was pouting like a kid who was scolded by his parents.

Absent-mindedly, you raised one of your hands to cup his cheek, thumb grazing softly on his skin. Eren was a gift that God bestowed upon you, or maybe he was a God himself with how gorgeous he was. He and his emerald eyes, mesmerized you as his gaze flickered to your orbs.

And then down to your lips.

His fingers slipped in between the strands of your hair as his gaze flew back to your eyes, never broke the eye contact that you two shared after that. He grasped your hair softly, just enough to secure your position, but not too harsh that it could hurt.

"Eren."

You whispered his name like a prayer as he started to lean in, closer and closer, wanting to erase the gap that separated you and him. He didn't need to ask, he knew from the way you parted your lips, you wanted him to do it.

Then who was he to ignore such a request from his lover?

You closed his eyes, only for him to follow after. At this moment, it was as if the time had stopped, and the only thing that you could hear was just the beating of his heart resonating through the room.

He could feel your breath fanning his lips, reminding him that this would be the first kiss that you two shared after months without physical contact. And truthfully, he couldn't wait to taste your lips anymore.

Grasping your hair a little bit tighter, he finally captured your lips.

He saw it, all of the kisses that you two have shared. Each moment played in his mind as if to show him what was true happiness felt like. From the first accidental kiss as he slumped on your figure at hand-on-hand combat, to the first real kiss that sealed a promise at the battle of Trost.

It was so beautiful, each moment that happened. There was this one kiss after his fight with the female titan in Stohess, another after the scout took him back from Reiner and Bertolt's grasp, it was not much, but all the kisses had been planted in his mind to be remembered forever.

Everything was replaying as if he saw a record of his life. Over and over again like a broken record. Your tears stained cheek when you kissed him at Reiss Chapel, him asking for comfort through your lips after reclaiming Shiganshina, the drunk kisses in Marley, the last peck that he gave before he departed alone —

"I am sorry." The ravenette cried, her cheek was filled with bruises and tears. "I am so sorry." Her blade was buried on someone's torso, deep enough to end their life, she just needed to move the edge from the body to finish it. But she stopped, she didn't have the courage to twist the edge, not yet.

Someone's cough, a small chuckle followed after as their breath started to get heavier for every second passed.

"It's alright, Mikasa." That voice was comforting, making the woman in front of them cried harder. "This was the path that I chose."

The sky was blue that day, rough wind blew their hair mercilessly, reminding them how they were far away from the ground right now. Ah, yes, they remembered now how everything leads up to this moment. They were here for some reason; to fight, to kill, and to keep on living.

But they did it all for him.

You did it all for him.

"Why?" She choked out as her hands trembled. "Why did you stay with him? Look at what he did, look at how many lives he had taken." So, she had realised that. "How could you stay for him, (Y/n)?!"

"Hm?" You hummed softly, realising that darkness slowly replacing the light in your vision. "What else, Mikasa?" Another chuckle, though halted with how you cough blood after that. "Because I love him."

Yes, as simple as that.

Your eyes fleeting pass her, watching how your old friends were fighting for their own life in the grasp of the ninth titan ancestors. They were here to kill, to stop your lover from finishing his mission. And there was nothing else that you could do.

You were already done for at this point, with how a single move could kill you in an instant, you knew that your time was up, there was nothing that you could change. Well, maybe except one.

"Let me go, Mikasa." You whispered as you looked at her once again. "Pull the blade, let me fall." It was as if you were trying to save her from the regret and pain that would ensue knowing she was the one who took your life away. "It's okay, I promise."

She was hesitating, her head whipped to the back since she could hear some heavy footsteps closing in. A titan or two was ready to attack her, and she needed to think fast at this point.

"Mikasa, look at me." She bit her lips, yet immediately looked down at you from the command. "I am already proud of myself for staying by his side. I will be gone as a loyal partner." You pushed yourself to grab the blade, reminding her of the situation. "But you still need to live, you have to find a way to keep on fighting."

You wanted to say more, but there was not enough time and energy. The titans were close, everyone was fighting so hard to sway them away from your black-haired friend. But they couldn't hold those monsters much longer, Mikasa needed to decide now.

Sucking a deep breath and ignoring the pain that filled your lungs, you screamed at her, snapping her for one last time.

"Mikasa! Pull away the blade! Now!"

And she did.

The next second you were falling, your body hitting the head of the colossal titan, from one titan to another, slowing you down from the inevitable death that would follow after. Your eyes never left the blue sky that spread in your vision, securing it as the last thing that you saw.

You couldn't feel anything as your body landed on the ground. Too numb, too broken to feel any pain even though in reality, your body was already disorientated, gigantic feet stomping at your limbs. But you didn't cry out for help.

You just accepted it, as red replaced the blue, as flesh replaced the fresh air in the sky.

A smile never left your tear-stained cheek. You didn't even realise that you cried. Yet one thing that you knew for sure, you didn't cry because of how it all turns out, you didn't cry because of the path that you chose, you didn't cry because you ended up dead under the titans that your lover activated.

But you cried because you have been wondering, if everything that you did was enough.

For him.

"Hey, Eren, have I been good enough for you?"

"Yes, you have." He couldn't breathe. "You have— You are good enough for me. You are even more than enough." It was too much to process, even more than that time he saw this moment unfurled in his vision.

Because back then, he didn't know what actually happened. He couldn't see the reason why he cried, he couldn't understand why he had his hand wrapped around your neck with one goal that he always hated.

To kill you.

But now his question was answered, now he knew why he in his vision decided to do such a thing to you.

"Love?" How could he face you now? "Oh, Eren, why are you crying?" You were so caring, thumb grazing on his cheek to erase all tears that never seemed to stop. "I promise I will give you lots of kisses later on too, okay?"

This made him snort, snapping him back to reality as he composed himself. He pulled away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed. So sudden he could even feel the pang in his heart for leaving such warmth. If he felt like this, he couldn't imagine how your heart ached from his gesture.

He contemplated, head hanging low as he stared at his two hands that were now trembling. You were going to die, slow and painful if he decided to keep you alive. Alone, disentangled, heavily wounded, and crushed by the sixty meters titan. He let out a bitter chuckle, knowing that whatever he did, you were going to die because of him.

"What can I do to make you leave me?"

It was so quiet, he couldn't even hear your breath after he threw the question. Eren waited for an answer, he wished you to say something, anything, he wanted to make sure that you were not going to follow him. He wanted you to be saved, for you not to feel such agonizing death.

But you just cleared your throat. He could hear you kicking the blanket that covered you before, muttering under your breath in frustration before jumping down the bed. Your action made him raise his eyebrows, wondering why you looked so angry, why you seemed disturbed with his question.

"(Y/n), answer—"

"Nothing!"

He was taken aback by your outburst. Now he was the one who could not see your expression with how you gave him your back instead. "Nothing, Eren. There's nothing that you could do." You walked to where you put your jacket, snatching it from the ground. "You could try anything, but I will stay. I will stay and side with you. Always."

He closed his eyes, searching for an answer inside his mind. From anyone that he knew, it must be you who had a painful death.

No, he couldn't let you die like that. You deserved a future, in a world where peace and freedom were finally within your reach, he wanted you to see that, go live through that, even though it was not with him. That was what he promised you after all, freedom.

"You hear me, Eren?" You exclaimed, slipping your jacket before turning your body to face him, gaze locked with his. "I am not going anywhere. Not even if you ask me to." Your voice softened by now. As if you didn't care that he looked at you with his cold, murderous eyes.

There was nothing that could make him change your mind, he should have known that. The way you spoke, the tone that you used, was enough to make him understand. That he couldn't ask you to leave, he couldn't threaten you to stay with the Survey Corps.

In the end, your death was something that couldn't be altered.

It was either later, or now.

You gasped, body slammed to the brick wall behind you. Your feet flailing around, pupils widened with shock as you choked out. Huffing for air, he gripped your neck tighter, not giving you a chance to get more. Not enough, tighter! You looked so helpless for a second, panic struck your mind as you thrashed around.

But then your eyes met with his, and just like that, you stopped.

He didn't know what you were thinking. You just stared at him. Lips parted, trying to say something even though your oxygen was limited by now. He could see the colour draining from your face, little by little. And yet you kept on trying, pushing the words from your lips.

"I will—"

Your voice cracked, yet your eyes still held his gaze. With the same comfort look that he always found, with no fear in your orbs like how so many people looked at him.

"Devote my heart—"

He ignored how your right hand went up to your chest, balled into a fist as you gave him a sincere smile. A smile that was full of pride. As if living and fighting for him was something that you were proud of.

"To you."

It was a salute. That was what you gave him. You have become a good soldier, he knew that. Fighting alongside him to kill the enemies, staying by his side when everyone was afraid of him, still looking at him with the same love and kindness despite all things that he had done.

Up until now.

Up until now as the colour in your eyes was gone.

You still looked at him, as if he was God.

He choked out, now the one who gasped for air as his vision blurred with tears. The realisation hit him, gnawing his soul as slow as possible so he could taste the grief even more. He wanted to scream out when Sasha died. But now, knowing you were the one who died and because of him on top of that —

He wanted to rip his heart into pieces.

"I am sorry." He sobbed, releasing his grip on your neck before pulling you to his embrace. "I am sorry, I am such a coward. I am sorry." He couldn't, he couldn't see you die fighting for him. He couldn't see you get trampled by those titans that were supposed to give you freedom.

So this was the answer. Yes, that was it. It would be better for you to see freedom in another world. In a world without titans, without death trying to catch up with you anywhere you go, without someone that would die in a few years as your lover and comrades.

A chuckle slipped from his lips as his fingers tangled on your damp hair, smoothing it out softly as he kissed the side of your face, bidding farewell to someone who he knew would always be with him. Even if the body couldn't follow him anymore.

Closing his eyes, he smiled, remembering the day he met you. As darkness stretched through the horizon, and a full moon was the only thing that lit the world. You were flying around with your manoeuvre gear, practising even though it was late at night.

He was amazed at how you could even hear him walk towards you. The way you whipped your head to face him, a smile of relief tugged on your lips as you realised it was just another cadet, the soft look inside your eyes and how it shone brighter with the moon reflected your glossy orbs.

This was the choice that he knew he would regret less. For you to die without fear, with your typical gentle gaze that could melt everyone on sight. For you to be free, to reach whatever paradise that you would see after you took your last breath.

He could only wish that someday he would be with you again.

Letting you go, he stood up without faltering. His emerald orbs that you always adored now would be forever dull. Like a dark leaf that fell from its tree; it couldn't gleam anymore. His lips shaped into a thin line, staring at your lifeless body one last time before turning his back on you.

This moment was a turning point. Now he knew that he couldn't change anything. He was tied to his vision, all the plans must be executed. And without you in this world, perhaps it would be so much easier for him to just look forward and finish his duty.

He didn't look back, dragging his feet to the sink before filling it with water. He fetched the hairband in his pocket, eyes never leaving the reflection that looked at him with red and tired eyes. Just a little bit longer. He washed his face, not bothering to wipe it with a cloth as he let the water drip down the sink.

Just a little bit longer and you could go find her again.

Eren Yeager has given you your freedom.

Now, he just needed to grant freedom to the rest of the world.

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Citizen; @queenofcurse

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x y/n #eren angst #eren yaegar #eren jaeger #attack on titan eren #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x y/n #aot #snk x reader #snk #eren imagines #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger imagines #eren yeager imagines

163 notes · View notes

quarra · 2 years ago

Note

LOLOLOL don't worry, I DO enjoy your Caskets and Cookies series!

My first and truest love in Tropes is WEREWOLVES, and while A/B/O is Not the Same, I find I enjoy a lot of "non traditional" type takes on it in the same kind of way that I enjoy werewolf stuff. This is very true of the Casket and Cookies stuff. Give me extremely ALLLLLL the "i don't really get why my body is doing this OH SHIT" sensory stuff. :3

Re: Dooku more generally, I really, really love sci fi that talks about "how do you go on after you went a little Evil? what does repentance look like?", as well as "what does forgiveness look like? How do you get to a point where you CAN forgive someone?". I feel a lot of those Vibes in your work in general, and in your Dooku stuff in specific. Don't even get me started on "THEIR FATAL FLAW WAS ALSO THEIR STRONGEST STRENGTH" stuff, which is a really easy theme to improvise on from the various Star Wars Canons Characterizations we have of Dooku.

anyway, (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

Oh WHEW. Lol, good, I'm glad that worked out.

A/b/o is definitely hit or miss with me. Once in a while it scratches an itch, especially when I play with with what's expected from those situations and see what shakes out. Knotting is hot! But wow sometimes the social meta built into the stories makes me sigh, lol. That just means i have to write it myself! :) Be the change and all that, you know?

The Caskets and Cookies series does that a lot and it tickles me to no end. It plays with expectations a little bit. As with all of my fics, I love the fine mix of crack, humor, and feels/angst. Crack treated seriously is the best genre.

I also agree with the redemption stuff. I love a certain type of villain and I *love* a good redemption arc. I love giving Dooku some options on what's going on with him and how, or even *if*, he can come back to the Light. I feel like he is one of the characters in Star Wars who could have made such a difference in the canon story line if only he'd stepped two spaces to the left, you know? Jango Fett is the same way; he's involved in so many galaxy shaking events. I've got a wip where I explore more of him, too. How does one try to come back from doing to many terrible things? (Sorry, its a later au of an au kinda thing, set *after* the currently partially-written next story arc of 212th guide, so it won't be posted until that stuff is done and posted, which means it likely will be a whiiiile before anyone sees it.... but let me tell you I am *so happy* about the stuff I have for Jango in that fic.)

I think in the end I just don't like Star Wars canon very much and I'd much rather change it to be less grim. Ultimately, Star Wars is a series about hope and good triumphing over evil, which is great!! ... it just seems like too often the evil has to destroy 99% of everything good first. I'd like to see how things could go if they aren't totally fucked. I like seeing people figure their shit out *before* a billion people die, though sometimes after very painful mishaps caused by poor choices or bad luck or both, and then see Good succeed.

Because, really, humans are like that. Everyone ever has done shit they regret. How do we move on from that? *Can* we move on from that? What does that look like?

Setting these themes in an extremely grand way (sometimes) makes them paradoxically feel more real. A real person might agonize over being thoughtlessly cruel to an acquantance (for example), or maybe regret a certain poorly thought out choice, even years after the event. The guilt, shame, and anger that builds up around the event can feel disperportionate to the offence. Same with suffering. A person may be in mental agony but have no way to externally justify that their pain is real, especially if they have no emotional support.

But a character in a story can do the worst things imaginable. They can suffer more than anyone could reasonably survive. And their pain, guilt, and anger are real (in the story, you know what i mean), their offences and injuries are very obviously awful and thus their guilt, shame, and pain are justified. From that place of authenticity, we can explore a story of redemption or recovery. How *does* that work, especially for the worst of the worst?

Such stories are catharitic to read and if done well can be satisfying on a very visceral level.

These are such exciting ideas to play with! More so if the basic story premise is wacky, because then I get the most amazing comments that are like, "why the fuck is this weird thing so great??"

This is why I fanfic, lol.

...

...... also, Christopher Lee as Dracula was hot and he has a phone sex voice and i am weak.

#asks answered #meta #stories are important!#this was probably more than i needed to say about this subject #i mean for real dracula is hot as fuck and christopher lee's phone sex voice makes me swoon #i could have just left it at that but noooo #lol ah well #its late and whoops i stayed up far too late to write this #sleep time is now

3 notes · View notes

katwritessometimes · 4 years ago

Text

Temptations

Reformed Hero!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x Villain! Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citru s Dome Server

Read the other entries HERE

Warnings: it's pwp, lil bit of choking, lil bit of degradation little bit of anal play. Reader calls him Daddy like twice. Filth all around

5kish words (shout out to the lovely @teddieh who beta read it for me UwU)

Read it on Ao3

It was like an itch, Touya knew he shouldn’t walk over, knew he should be staying away from you until reinforcements arrived. He knew that if he stepped foot into that room everything he’d been working for, his redemption, it would all go down the drain. But reinforcements wouldn’t be reaching their location for at least another hour and he really couldn’t help himself.

It's how Touya Todoroki, Bright Burn, reformed cremation hero, ends up standing in front of his bound target. You were just as beautiful as Touya remembered. Despite the muzzle snug tight against your face, and the quirk canceling collar clasped around your neck. Touya admired the ever-present ferocity behind your stare. Your eyes were trained on him the second he walked into the room he was keeping you captive in. Shifting against your restraints, a sly smile creeps its way onto your lips as Touya ventures closer into the room.

“Awe, finally worthy of your presence, am I?” Your voice is deceivingly soft and steady, a deceptive sweetness to it that you always used to your advantage. Thanks to your quirk, you can hear how his heart speeds up at the sound of your voice, despite his ever-present poker face. You can’t help but smile happy to know you still had this effect on him.

“Backup should be here soon. Have you reconsidered my offer?” Touya’s voice is just how you remember it deep and steady, but you refuse to admit to yourself that you’d missed him.

“No, not really. Unlike someone my loyalties don't teter.” Your voice is teasing, a smile hiding behind the muzzle tight on your face. Touya clenches and unclenches his jaw, he knew you would give him a hard time. Even so, he couldn't resist coming over and trying to convince you, beg you to come with him.

“If you come willingly they'll let you go through the reform program. Call you a vigilante instead of a villain, I'll sponsor you, please.” Touya hadn’t intended for his words to sound as pleading as they did, regardless all he got back from you was a snort and an eye roll.

“I have a villainous quirk, a wild monster remember? You used to love that about me. I looked up to you for so long, you know that?” Toya comes a little closer at the sudden softness behind your words, he approaches slowly coming to a stop in front of you, peering down at your bound form.

“You were proud of the way you looked, proud of your scars, proud of calling yourself a freak. It was inspiring, you made me proud of being called a freak with a villainous quirk. It was one of the things I admired most about you, ya know.” Touya doesn't know what to say, he tries to remind himself that you weren't on his side anymore, that emotional manipulation was your favorite pastime.

You let out a sigh, vulnerability clearly wasn’t getting you the desired response. You shift against your restraints and with another dramatic sigh. A small grin takes over your face. You decide to take on a different approach. “You used to take pride in your appearance too. What happened? Too much of a freak? Does daddy make you wear makeup?” You wanted to rile him up, wanted him to react, to explode in your face. Anything to indicate the hot-headed man you used to know was still in there somewhere.

“A healer, we found a healer who was able to create new cells for me and restore my skin” Touya’s voice is still calm and it infuriates you to no end.

“Right. Let the hero’s hide the truth like they always do. They didn't even tell the public that you’re a reformed villain, right? Daddy didn’t want to look bad in front of everyone, right? Erased Dabi from existence because it was easier for Endeavor's son to magically reappear than to admit he was a villain for ten odd years.” Your eyes scanned his face. When the ‘hero’ Bright Burn first found you, it took several minutes to process exactly who he was. Touya had quite literally smoked you out of your hiding spot, flaming red hair, a lack of any piercings, and most noticeably, perfect porcelain skin. You’d much preferred his charred skin and staples over this superficial perfection, though he was handsome either way.

Touya’s jaw stayed clenched, annoyed with the words coming out of your mouth, knowing that what you were saying was all true. He’d said the same things to himself many times before, but he was reformed. He loved his new hero life… It's what he tells himself anyway. Every day that goes by gets harder and harder for him to continue convincing himself that he’s happy as a hero. Touya thought he was ready to face you, he didn’t want any other hero coming after you, hoping that if he was the one who captured you, he might be able to sway you to the right side of justice. Touya’s attention snaps back to you when you let out a dramatic sigh, shifting against your restraints and focusing your attention on him.

“We’ve got time to kill don’t we? Why don't you let me go and we can have some fun while we wait huh?” You look up at him, mustering the best puppy dog eyes you can with a mischievous smile hiding behind the muzzle. Those words give you an immediately satisfying reaction, Touya’s body shifting making himself just a little bit taller, shoulders stiffening at your words.

“Do you remember what it was like being tangled together? My nails scratching down your back, the sweet pain of my teeth digging into your neck? The way your fingers felt wrapped tight around my pretty little neck?” You hear him attempt to cover what you know is clearly a moan with a cough. His eyes are not so inconspicuously racking down your body as he clears his throat. “Awe come on, or maybe just take this ugly muzzle off yeah? Let me wrap my mouth around that perfect cock of yours.” You can’t help the chuckle that leaves you, once a dirty pervert always a dirty pervert. No amount of ‘hero reform’ could ever change the deviance you knew hid just under the red-haired hero’s skin.

“Don't.” Touya’s voice comes out in a familiar snarl that always sends a chill down your spine, the brilliant turquoise in his eyes darkening significantly. All you need to do is push him just a little bit further.

“Awe come on we’ve got time to kill. I promise I'll be good for you. Aren’t I always so good for you, Touya?” His real name had always been his weakness, you knew you’d won when he brought a bright flaming hand close to your face. A delicious shiver runs down your spine, heat rising to your face in excitement.

“You’re bound and all you can do is sit there and beg me for my cock huh? Still a needy little slut, aren't you, sweetie?” A tingle shoots straight to your core at his words, sitting up just a little bit straighter as he brings his flaming hand to your face, his eyes dark. The heat from his flames laps oh so closely to your face. A familiar welcomed warmth. You know he won't hurt you. All he does is burn off the muzzle, ever the drama queen.

There's a flash of hesitation as he removes the mangled remains of the muzzle from your face. A bruise blooming on your jaw where he’d punched you during your initial fight. Touya’s lips form a tight frown as he brushes his thumb over it. Shaking his head, the darkness in his eyes subsides. “I was too rough.” Touya’s voice is soft as he caresses the damaged skin along your jaw but you flash him a smile, a soft hum escaping you as you lean into his touch.

“You’ve given me worse” You tease and in an instant his soft caress turns into a hard grip on your cheeks. He doesn’t make another move, however, the flash of who you used to know disappeared again leaving behind an emotionally vulnerable hero once more. “How about you get me out of these restraints, hmm, pretty boy?” Touya hates that those words make him feel the way they do. He knows he shouldn't, he knows backup could get there early. He decides he doesn't care at that moment, all he wants is to feel you pressed up against him. So that's exactly what he does.

Touya’s sudden movements surprise you for a second, thinking that maybe he truly had changed and would knock you out so he wouldn’t be tempted any further. To your pleasant surprise and amusement, he undoes the binds on your arms instead, removing the quirk canceling cuffs but keeping the collar on. Not that it matters much, even without your quirk you were still significantly agile and strong. You stand up from your previous kneeling position, stretching your arms up over your head. A happy little moan coming from you, your muscles relax after being bound in the same position for so long. You come out of the stretch and bring your arms down and around Touya’s neck, he hasn't moved since unbinding you.

“Did you miss me, handsome?” A wicked smile spreads across your face as you pull him in close, threading your hands into his hair as you press your body firmly against his. Touya hums as you tug on his hair lightly, the way you know he likes. You humm, grinding up against him. He stifled a moan, large hands coming up to still your hips as he leans in for a kiss. With a giggle, you give a sharp tug pulling his head back just as he’s about to reach your lips. You feel the bulge quickly growing pressed tight against his hero suit and a pathetic excuse for a growl leaves him as you tilt his head back, exposing his neck.

“Awe, look at how excited you got.” You coo, smiling widely as you lean into his neck, sharp teeth nipping at the delicate flesh as Touya tries to pry his head from your grip. You let out a soft tut, pulling sharply at his hair and biting down harshly at his collar bone. It earns you a very satisfying moan, the first real moan he's allowed to slip through. You part his legs with your knee gently pressing against his erection as you pull away from him. Touya’s face is flushed red, soft pants passing through his lips as he looks down at you with glazed-over eyes.

“I bet no one’s fucked you the way you like since you went all-mighty hero. Can’t have all the filthy little things you enjoy slip out into the public, now can we?” Getting him like this was thrilling, you rarely ever got the upper hand on him like this. You push him back towards a comfy looking chair, Touya stumbling back into it, your hand never leaving his hair. You wiggle yourself onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. The hard length of his cock pressing deliciously against you as you grind down against it, earning yourself a deep moan from Touya.

Touya refuses to let you get to him, yes he’s hard, and yes, god he’d missed the way your body felt against his. He does his best to remain level headed but his resolve was crumbling with every thrust of your hips against his, composure crumbling with every sharp insult, every rock of your hips against his. You let go of his hair with a dramatic sigh, rolling your head before looking at Touya with disappointment on your face, maybe he really had changed. One last wicked thought crosses through your mind as you pull away from him, getting off his lap to stand in front of him instead, leaning into him so that your noses touch.

“You really have gone soft, haven’t you? Hmmm, maybe I should go find Endeavor. I'm pretty sure your daddy could fuck me better than you can at this point. Give me exactly what I want, since you don’t seem to fit the bill anymore, Touya.” You say it in the most bored tone you can muster his composure cracking as you wiggle your nose against his in an eskimo kiss.

It’s like a switch flipped, his eyes darkening and suddenly his hand is gripping your face tightly, no longer mindful of the bruise blooming across it. Dabi presses his fingers harshly against your cheeks, pressing your face down until you're kneeling between his legs. His grip stings beautifully as he shoves your face against his thigh.

“You’ve always had such a smart fucking mouth, ya know that?” He moves his grip from your face to the back of your head, pressing your face against the prominent bulge in his pants. “You want me to wreck you princess? Fine , I'm sick of your teasing. You know the drill. I'm sure that empty little head of yours can still remember what I like, can't it?” Dabi coos mockingly, excitement pooling in your belly. You loved teasing him, getting him flustered and being in control a little bit. But you much preferred it when he took charge of things. Of course, you still enjoy making things difficult for him.

When he lets go of your hair, you pull your face away from in between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you trail your hands down your body slowly. You play with the hem of your shirt peeling it off painfully slow. Dabi snarls a sound that always goes straight to your core. “Too fucking slow, princess.” He shoves his foot in between your legs, harshly nudging them apart until your knees are spread before burning your shirt clean off. A surprised chirp slips from your lips, hot flames licking at your skin as the shirt dissolves in the flames, but the fire never burns you.

Dabi leans forward, ever warm fingers caressing your cheek gently before letting his fingers trail down your jaw. Gently tumbling down the side of your neck and over to your breasts, tweaking a nipple harshly between his fingers. Your breath hitches, chest pushing up against his touch as he moves to the other nipple, giving that one the same treatment. “You’ve always been so pretty like this, ya know that?” His eyes hold a softness that was only ever reserved for you, you preen under his gaze and attention sitting up just a little bit taller as he runs a hand through your hair.

“Now, let's put that annoying little mouth of yours to good use.” Dabi purrs, gripping your hair tight from the scalp and pressing your face into his lap. You let out a chuckle, happily letting him guide you, keeping you flush against his thigh. Dabi releases himself from his pants, a familiar Prince Albert piercing greeting you as well as your favorite, his Jacob's ladder piercing. You were pleasantly surprised that he still had them, but again, once a pervert always a pervert.

Dabi settles back into his chair, palming at himself with a steady grip still in your hair. “Go on princess. You know what to do.” With a smile on your face, you give the tip of his cock quick teasing peck before bringing your hand up to him, Thumbing at the bead of precum leaking from him before licking a strip up the underside of his shaft. Coming up, you take just the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head and sucking lightly at the sensitive skin there.

Dabi pushes at your head and you happily oblige, letting him guide you down, forcing all of him into your mouth. You humm, trying to relax as Dabi begins to rutt up into your mouth, keeping your head down flush against his pelvis, the hair decorating the base of his cock brushing against your nose. You cough a little as Dabi picks up speed, but he keeps a firm grasp on your hair. “Relax princess- fuck- just breathe through your nose darling. You know how.” You do your best to relax as Dabi continues to abuse your throat, bringing your hands up onto his thighs, digging your nails into his pants.

Dabi mutters a soft fuck, taking in a breath pulling you from his cock from your hair before letting go completely. He’s panting just as hard as you are and you smile looking up at him. Tears begin pooling in your eyes as drool dribbles down your lips and onto your chest. Dabi has the biggest smirk on his face, leaning over you, smudging the mix of saliva and precum from your lips to your cheek. He hums. “My messy little princess, did you miss choking on my cock?” You croak out a yes and Dabi chuckles leaning back into his chair again. “Up” he hums, you scramble to rise and Dabi pulls you in by your waist until you’re standing in between his legs.

“Are you ready for me princess? Let me see..” The soft coo of his voice has you flushing, hating and loving the way he always managed to get your riled up with just his words. You hear the distinct sound of clothes ripping and then you’re standing only in your panties in front of him. Dabi smirks, eyes taking in every inch of your body and brings one of his hands up to tweak at your nipples, the other tumbling at the softness of your belly then trailing down to where you wanted him most. His fingers brush against the damp material of your panties, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he presses against you.

“My my.. I've barely even touched you and you’re already soaked right through those pretty little panties. Filthy girl. Do you like it when I'm rough with you, princess?” The sound of Dabi ripping your panties sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers slide down your folds, teasing against your hole, barely pressing against you before pulling away to rub at your clit. You let out a whine, trying to press down against his fingers in an attempt to soothe some of the ache in your belly.

“Do you want my fingers in this slutty little pussy of yours darling?” You whine as Dabi pulls you onto his lap, spreading your legs wide with his own so that you're straddling him. His still hard cock rubbing against your exposed pussy as you settle against him whimpering. Dabi was still fully clothed and you lean forward to clutch at his shirt, hips humping desperately against his hard cock needing something to ease the heat pooling in your belly.

“No, don't want fingers, want you, need you.” You whimper, burying your head against his chest. He chuckles above you, pushing your hips away from him so that you can't rut against him. You snarl, teeth latching onto his neck in frustration. “Fuck me already.” You whine against his neck. Dabi laughs now, a deep happy sound, he smacks your ass and you jolt a little.

“Up. Turn around let me see that gorgeous ass of yours.” You huff, giving his neck another sharp nip before pulling away from him, pouting. Dabi chuckles, leaning in to kiss you soft and tender, hands coming up to cup your cheek. “On your knees. Ass up, princess.” He hums against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away completely. You happily oblige, peeling yourself from his lap, legs trembling in excitement as you do what you're told, wiggling your ass in his face before bending down in front of him.

You hear the creak of the chair as Dabi stands up and then his hands are on you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass before ghosting against your puckered hole. You chirp and Dabi chuckles, forcing you to spread your legs wider with his knee as he turns his attention to your dripping pussy.

“Look so delicious like this, princess. Absolutely soaked, just for me.” His mouth is on you then, hot warm tongue lapping up at the juices dripping from your core. Dabi chuckles against you as you cry out, dipping two fingers into the welcoming warmth of your doughy walls. His tongue following soon after, tracing your lips with his tongue before plunging the warm muscle in with his fingers. A loud moan passes through your lips as you press yourself against the floor, pushing your ass back desperately against Dabi. You want more, need more. Dabi brings a hand around your body to play with your clit and your mind goes blank, focusing only on the heat in your belly and the way his tongue feels dipping into your pussy.

“Come all over my mouth and I’ll fuck you silly. How does that sound, princess?” Dabi picks up the pace, relentlessly rubbing at your bundle of nerves. It crashes into you all at once, and you can't help cry out as your orgasm overtakes you. Panting like a bitch in heat, whimpering. Dabi doesn't let up as you cum around his tongue. He lets you ride your orgasm out as you press yourself against him. A happy buzz electrifying your body as you come down from your orgasm. The cool of the floor against your cheek helps to keep you grounded as Dabi pulls away from you, all you can manage is a whimper.

You don't get much of a chance to catch your breath, Dabi pushing into you all at once. The delicious stretch as his cock sheaths itself in your pussy, a stretch that only he’d ever been able to give you. You cry out overwhelmed as Dabi sets a merciless pace, the sound of his hips connecting flush against your ass filling the room. You can hear Dabi chuckle darkly behind you as he pressed a hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you further against the ground, your breasts brushing against the cold floor. Your breath hitches as you hear Dabi spit into his hand, followed by wet fingers gingerly circling around the puckered hole exposed to him. You choke out a moan as Dabi continues to fuck into you, one of his fingers dipping into your ass and you can't help but push back against him.

“Dirty girl, do you like it when I play with your ass like this? Pushing into me like the desperate little whore you are huh? Want me to fill up both your holes don’t you baby girl?” You’re a babbling mess beneath him, cheek digging uncomfortably against the cold floor. You loved the feel of Dabi’s body draped over yours, his weight keeping your upper half-pressed firmly against the ground. His other warm callus hand holding your hips up nice and high for him to hump into mindlessly, your juices running down your legs as his hips smack into yours. Dabi snarls against the side of your head, one of the hands holding your hips comes around to your neck as he pulls back on his haunches pulling your body up along with him.

“You feel so good around me princess. Did you miss me? Miss the way my cock stretches you? Pumps you nice and full?” You choke out a soft yes, leaning into him as best you can as he continues to rut into you wildly, the barbells of his jacob's ladder pressing deliciously against your sensitive walls. The heat pooling in your stomach is overwhelming and you can't help but trail your hand down your stomach until you reach the sweet little nub between your legs. Dabi growls behind you, his teeth clamping down around your shoulder. “Who the fuck said you could touch yourself hmm? Bold of you, don't you think doll?” He pulls out stilling completely with only the tip of his cock still buried snugly inside you, the smooth metal of his Prince Albert just barely giving you the stretch you desperately desire. A breathy laugh coming from him as you squirm.

“No, no, no—” You whine out, frustrated. “I’m sorry! Please don’t stop!” You cry out desperately, his fingers squeeze your neck just a little bit tighter as you try to push yourself down onto him. Soft whimpers and nonsense spilling from you as you try to bring your hips down onto him.

“Beg for me baby girl, tell me how badly you want my cock.” Dabi chuckles, moving both of his hands down to hold onto your hips stilling you. You let out a frustrated whine, desperately trying to sink back down onto his cock the tip of his prince albert piercing teasing at your entrance.

“Please—I need you to fill me up again!”

Dabi tuts, one hand trailing up your body until it reaches your face, stroking at your lips before sticking two of his fingers into your mouth, your warm saliva coating them as he presses down onto your tongue. “I dunno, you were quite the little brat earlier, bringing up my fucking father. Remind me who you belong to, go ahead. Beg the way I like little one.” You let out a frustrated huff, mind foggy still desperate to feel him in you again.

“Daddy please—please fill me with your cock! I'm so sorry about what I said earlier. I just want your cock, only yours Daddy, no one else’s!” You cry out as he pushes back into you, your doughy walls pulling him in greedily, his fingers now thurougly coated in your own spit come down to assault your clit as he bites into your neck again. Before you can think, the heat pooling in your belly overflows and you're crying, cumming around his cock as he pounds into you.

You’re a mess chest heaving nonsensical words tumbling from your lips, you don’t get much of a chance to register what is happening. One moment you’re on the floor whimpering as Touya’s warmth leaves you. The next, your back meets the cool hard texture of the wall and Touya is pressed up against your front. Warmth radiates from a still mostly clothed Touya as he hoists your legs around his waist pinning you up against the nearest wall. You roll your head back moaning weakly as he pushes into you again, the unique stretch of the piercings lining his cock overstimulating your already sensitive walls. Touya is more gentle this time, shifting his weight so he can bring a hand up to stroke your cheek. You’re a happy whimpering mess as Touya lazily fucks into you, tears streaming down your face but you missed him. Missed this overwhelming feeling only he could ever give you.

"You look so pretty fucked out like this, little one." Touya continues to hump into you lazily stroking your cheek as he fucks up into you. He kisses you gently forehead first, then your nose, right cheek, then left. You whimper leaning into his touch and puckering your lips for the kiss you really want. Touya chuckles before finally kissing you fully in the lips, a happy whimper leaving you as you get your kiss. Touya pulls away resting his forehead against yours, a new wave of emotions wash over you as brilliant blue eyes lock with yours. For a moment, everything is ok, there are no heroes, no villains, no wars being raged. Just two souls reconnecting after a long time.

"Missed you… Touya I missed you" You can't help the fresh tears pooling in your eyes. Throwing your arms around his neck, Touya chuckles as you bury your face into his neck.

"Fuck… I missed you too princess. It's ok, I'm here. Don't worry about that right now. Relax for me little one, do you think you can give Daddy one more orgasm?” you try to focus on his deep voice, take a breath and lean back allowing yourself to relax against the wall as Touya continues his gentle lazy strokes. Touya leans forward kissing at your throat, "Such a good girl for me. Go ahead, touch yourself for me, sweetheart. Rub that pretty little clit while Daddy fucks this sweet pussy of yours." he hums against your skin, picking up the pace.

You do as you’re told, eagerly reaching between your legs to diddle your clit while Touya begins fucking into you harder. Your other hand comes around to grip onto his arm as he bears your weight, nails digging into the taught muscle as heat pools in your stomach.

"That's it, sweetie. You're doing so good for me baby girl, feel so tight around my cock, fuck— Are you ready for me baby girl? That's it cum for me—” Your name leaves his lips in a soft whisper, it sends you over the edge with a choked cry, your orgasm washes over you leaving you trembling and whimpering as Touya fucks you through it.

“Ah—Touya..! It's too much—” You whimper, hands moving away from your clit pressing against his chest, nails digging into his shirt. Touya does not relent, however, pace erratic, hips pistoning against yours as he chases his own orgasm. He leans his head against your chest, spilling into you with a deep grunt, his breath ragged. The world stills, both of you breathing heavily against each other, Touya continuing to hold you for a few more breaths.

“Think you can get your footing, baby?” Touya pulls away from your chest, peppering your face in soft gentle kisses. You let out a soft yes and Touya helps settle you onto your own two feet, his warm hands finding perch on your bare hips to keep you steady. You look up at him, a feeling of vulnerability washing over you as you look up into familiar blue eyes, tears pooling, threatening to spill.

“Come home to me,” Touya mumbles, a calloused hand reaching up to your bruised face, gently swiping at your swollen lips. He leans down to kiss you, shy and hesitant, delaying what he knows will be rejection. Touya pulls away from you and your bottom lip comes out in a trembling pout.

“Promise me things will be okay..?” You whimper and Touya pulls you into a tight hug, choking back tears as he envelopes you in a warm embrace.

“Things will be okay.”

---------------------------------Epilogue---------------------------------------

In other news, pro hero Bright Burn and reformed hero (Y/H/N) welcome their firstborn child, a baby girl into the world today. The former vigilante turned pro hero Y/H/N came on the scene five years ago under the Todoroki hero agency as a sidekick for the eldest of Endeavor’s son, Bright Burn. The pair took the city by storm. Fans of the hero Bright Burn quickly fell in love with his new sidekick at the time, the fierce-looking but gentle Y/N, whose close combat quirk complements the long-range Bright Burns beautifully. From all of us at Tokyo News, we congratulate our favorite hero pair on their beautiful new child.

#dabi #dabi x you #dabi x reader #bnha touya #dabi is touya #dabi is a todoroki #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #mha dabi #touya todoroki #dabi todoroki #dabi touya #reader insert #touya x reader

944 notes · View notes

suganovakawa · 4 years ago

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 .

PAIRINGS : tooru oikawa x fem! reader , slight hajime iwaizumi x fem! reader

GENRE : angst , romance

WARNINGS : cursing , car accident , recovery from amnesia

SYNOPSIS : tooru doesn’t understand how special you are to him until he comes close to losing you forever . as he struggles to comes to grips with his feelings and balance it with his future , you still have to recover from your own injuries , but without your memories to assist you .

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐈𝐕 < [ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐕 ] > 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗𝐕𝐈

now, this is tooru’s business.

word count : 1.3k

saudade masterlist .

SAUDADE

( 𝐧 . ) a nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant , or that has been loved and then lost ; “ the love that remains ”

⠀the last people tooru expected to ever hear from again, besides you, were any of his third year teammates. maybe his underclassmen had it in them to forgive him eventually, but not issei and takahiro. they had all the right reason to not forgive him for his actions. they, just like hajime, had doted on you quite often during the season. while they weren't obsessive over it, they both visibly appreciated your presence.

⠀way more than he did at the time, anyway.

⠀he was almost scared as the two of them approached him during lunch. oikawa stopped showing up to the cafeteria and began enjoying his lunches in silence at the library, as many social outcasts choose to do. he didn't think that their motive for going to the library was to see him of all people, but his mind began to race as they began walking towards him at a surprisingly quick pace - their faces were anything but pleasant.

⠀"makki? mattsun?" tooru's body initiated his fight or flight instincts as both of them stood at his sides, making it impossible for him to just stand up and leave. "what are you doing here? i didn't do anything, did i?" he really hoped he didn't make another mistake. the last thing he wanted was to be remembered for nothing more than his shortcomings as a boyfriend.

⠀"no, not this time." mattsun replied in a hushed whisper, shaking his head. "but there's something going on that no one on the team likes. we don't know if you already know or not, but given your past with y/n, we figured you'd be interested."

⠀he hesitated at the mention of your name. of course he was interested in anything that had to do with you. what could possibly be going on with you that would be so important for him of all people to know about? the other two third years were uncharacteristically serious for their usual joking demeanors, but he was too nervous to say anything more.

⠀oikawa was additionally surprised to watch both them take a seat on both sides of him, leaning in closer to ensure only he was able to hear what they were saying. tooru leaned back slightly, his stomach running in circles with the suspicious activity going on. were they going to prank him? go through all this just to call him a loser? if so, he didn't want to be part of it. he had already messed up with you again, that was all the confirmation he needed that he was just a downright idiot. damn him and his stupid bad habits. if only he knew how to control his temper, this wouldn't have happened in the first place.

⠀"do you want the news just thrown in your face, or do you want us to discreetly tell you?" makki crossed his arms and leaned over the table, throwing the seijoh captain out of his deep thought. "doesn't really matter, bad news is bad news. we're probably going to ruin your day with this."

⠀really, what could be worse than this? "just tell me," was all he could muster.

⠀"iwaizumi and y/n are dating."

⠀what?

⠀tooru almost fell out of his seat as the blood rushed throughout his body like a tidal wave, both anger and astonishment crashing together furiously. he almost screamed but bit down on his tongue due to their current location. both makki and mattsun noticed the sudden shift in oikawa's behavior, and nodded their heads as if to agree with his reaction.

⠀"yahaba told me today. kindaichi apparently made small talk with iwaizumi, where the big news was revealed." mattsun continued without letting either brunet peer reply, "and frankly, it's very strange. all of it. but i'm pretty sure the only ones who have been suspicious of the relationship are us."

⠀oikawa was livid. whatever control he had over his temper, had been thrown long gone by now. his face glowed with an underlying red hue, his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists as he rest them on the table. he wasn't mad at you - he was mad at iwaizumi. hajime. he did something to manipulate you into a relationship. he did something to you to result in this outcome.

⠀and this was all oikawa’s fault.

⠀"this is bullshit," he seethed, shaking his head in an incredulous matter. "there's no way this was mutual. it can't be." curiously, he turned to the other two with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes narrowed in their direction. "why aren't you happy about their relationship? isn't this what all of you wanted ever since i..." hurt her? his voice got caught in his throat before he could finish.

⠀"don't get us wrong. you're still a complete asshole for how you treated y/n in the past. nothing will change that." it was like a hammer hit straight into oikawa's chest. "however... it's more complicated with iwaizumi. more complicated than what we would like it to be."

⠀realistically, it shouldn't be complicated at all. oikawa knew that. he was never the nicest to you, but he truly had no ill intentions when it came to your well being. now that he was stripped of whatever pride and dignity he had during the volleyball season, he realized that even though he had no ill intention, it still hurt you. that's what hurt tooru the most.

⠀"...complicated?"

⠀"i'm sure you've heard that iwaizumi has refused to tell y/n of her... past. and she doesn't remember anything either, which works to his advantage." makki began listing down points with his finger. "she asked us, she asked the team, she's asked iwaizumi way more times that i can count with both hands and toes. hell, i'm pretty sure she's asked you, too."

⠀you have, but tooru had his own reasons for hesitating.

⠀"she's been pretty stubborn about what she wants, and actually pretty pissed that no one refuses to tell her anything. then all of a sudden she comes back to seijoh with iwaizumi after a normal weekend, hand-in-hand and happy as can be." makki shook his head at the thought of it. "something doesn't add up. maybe it's not our business to butt in, but that's what's been going on."

⠀"what do you want me to do about it?" the lonely third year leaned back against his seat once more, more frustrated than anything. "i thought all of you didn't want me near y/n anymore. now you're telling me this, and for what?"

⠀"truth be told oikawa, this was just an impulse decision on both our parts." mattsun sighed and stood up, stretching his legs a bit. makki followed suit. "even though it's suspicious, it's really not our business. everyone else seems to be content with it, especially with what y/n's been going through. it's almost meant to be at this point."

⠀ouch, another strike to the heart. "but," the rose-haired peer interjected, "even though it's not our business, it most certainly is yours, isn't it? after all, you still haven't been able to officially break up with her yet, huh? and don't you have bad blood with iwaizumi now?" he shoved his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to the side.

⠀just how much did these two know? "no," oikawa mumbled quietly, "i haven't been able to."

⠀"anyways, the bell's gonna ring soon. you're in the loophole now, so you decide what to do with the information." mattsun walked up to tooru and grabbed him by the blazer, pulling the captain up to his feet before whispering quietly, "and if you have any sense of redemption left in you, it would probably be in your best interest to see what the hell is going on with hajime iwaizumi. maybe you'll get a sense of closure in the process."

⠀tooru could only nod in retaliation to this sudden confrontation, and mattsun gently let go of his blazer before giving him a quick nod. as quickly as the two of them arrived, they had already disappeared into the hallways by the time the bell rang.

⠀the frustration followed him like a raincloud for the rest of the day.

⠀y/n, what has hajime iwaizumi done to you?

a/n : i got nothin’ to say for ya today, so enjoy!

taglist ( closed ) — @ot127 @rena0921 @karlitabi-rrito @psychicpercyjacksonfan @crescentbitch @amelimiles @damnirina @pasta-warlord @blossomingbangtan @clinomanians @i-am-kinda-in-alot-of-fandoms @manq-fandoms @cirtruss @sugar-wara @haikoo @anime-simp @kairostatue @awkwardspontaneity @iwantapoptartqwq @aquariarose @softestdreamer @plantisnotplant @avylee @froppysgirl @that-animebitch @wisepandaslimeland @samanthaa-leanne @dumplingzumispam @0hakaashi @captain-janeway @afterglowkuroo @bellabelieveme @attixca @chickenrest @tycrackculture @ynjimenez @karaseijoh @lavieenblancetnoir @dabilove27 @cuddlesslut @crypto-s @keigosbitch @readeretal @shittykawaa @donghyuckster @adriloen @ella-solei @emiyummy @kukiisan @catyuyuyuu @sillykittt @dolan-mendes @kiritokunuwu @the-third-wall @yammers @todohawki

+ continued in the comments!

228 notes · View notes

we-have-bangtan · 4 years ago

Text

Random One-shot.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Theme: Angst, fluff, pain.

Warning: mentions of alcohol and swear words.

A/n: pls imagine long hair Jungkook from winter package 2021.

“I want an answer, goddammit!” Jungkook yelled in his drunk stupor. His eyes looking up to the sky from the large rock he was standing on, he wanted an answer, he was tired of this.

"WHY AM I NOT A PRINCESS???" He yelled again when someone yelled at him. "Jesus Christ, can you not shut up, dumbass' like you don't get to be princesses!" a female voice snapped

"GOD??" he asked, terrified, he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet God yet, he was still so young and dumb, a sinner who hadn't done a single act of redemption yet.

"No you idiot, look down here!" the voice said again, this time much closer, Jungkook looked down as instructed to see Yn looking up at him from the foot of the rock, "You!!!" he yelled, jumping off the rock in an attempt to look cool only to stumble and fall to the ground.

"Aish what a loser!" she playfully sneered as she reached out to help him up, "You didn't get hurt, did you?" she asked, taking his hand as pulling him along with her.

"Why did you come here?" he asked, stumbling after her to where ever she was taking him, he didn't care where she was taking him, he was just happy that she was with him. "Why? am I not supposed to be here?" she demanded watching in amusement as Jungkook tried to correct himself.

"Could you not be nicer to me? I'm going through a tough time here" he groaned, putting all his body weight on her as she dragged him to his car.

"You're facing the consequences of your actions Koo, you bought these tough times upon your self" she mumbles softly, resting him against the car door before patting his pants.

"Yah, Yn! you're hot and all but not my type, this is harassment!" he yelled, hiccuping between each word. "Shut up and stay still, I'm trying to find your keys" she huffed as she finally pulled his keys out of his back pocket.

She successfully shoved him into the passenger seat before heading to the other side, "Here have some water" she said, opening the bottle of water he always kept in his car. He obeyed quietly, his eyes growing wider as he put his lips to the mouth of the bottle, taking a few sips. Her cooing and praise motivating him to finish the whole bottle.

He rested his head on her shoulder as she rived up the engine, she didn't seem to mind the weight of his head, calmly changing gears as they went down Namsan mountain. "How did you get here?" he asked, already half asleep. "Yoongi gave me a ride" she answered as she pulled up on the main road which was quite crowded for 1:00 a.m.

"Why did you come to get me? I've been horrible to you" he asked feeling a pang in his chest remembering all that he had done to her, to sweet, sweet Ynnie who never saw wrong in anyone.

"You weren't horrible Gukkie, you were just hurt, you didn't hurt me or anything" she said, her eyes on the road, she refused to look at him as he spoke.

"Stop saying that, I put too much effort into hurting you for you to say that" he whined as un-shed tears pooled in his eyes, she laughed at his words, it was true.

He had gone out of his way to hurt her one too many times, and it had hurt like a gun shot right through her chest, but she was okay now, she was doing fine and had forgiven this brat a long time ago, but he didn't seem to be able to forgive himself for the pain he had caused her.

"Go to sleep Jungkook-ah, I'm here with you, just sleep, I'll wake you up once we get home." she mumbled softly, her words giving Jungkook the green light to fall asleep.

Jungkook felt like he was seeing God when he woke up, a blinding light in his eyes, but blinking a few times proved to him that that was not the case. It wasn't God, just his bedroom curtain being drawn away and the sun shining in.

He groaned as he realized where he was, 'was it all a dream?' he thought as he pulled himself off his bed, his head felt like it had been bombed with a M67 grenade, an unpleasant taste settling in his mouth from all the alcohol last night only to realize that he was in the same clothes he had been wearing yesterday.

He really wished last night hadn't been a dream, that Yn had actually come to get him from Namsan mountain. It had been their spot before they had stopped going there due to the amount of drunkards who went there to drink and left beer bottles everywhere.

He never would have thought he'd join that category but his actions last night made him ashamed of himself.

A shower was up next, the scalding water hitting his skin made him hiss, but he refused to wait till the water cooled down, his mind stopped thinking for a while as he showered.

The thoughts flooding back once he got back, pulling on a t-shirt as he went into the living room.

"So you're awake!" Namjoon yelled when he saw Jungkook emerge from his room. "My head is killing me!" Jungkook groaned as he headed to the fridge, "Yn left a note and something else for you, it's on the kitchen counter" Jin yelled from his place on the couch.

Yn's sticky note stuck to a lunchbox which laid on the counter, he wiped his hair with a towel as he grabbed a bottle of cold water, going to read the note,

Jungkookie,

Please drink moderately from now on, being an alcoholic is so not cool and don't drink in public, you'll get arrested.

I know you're going through a tough time so I made kookies for you, enjoy them to the fullest and please try to get the closure that you deserve. Don't coop yourself up in your room, you're starting to get too pale.

Please be careful, tell the boys I love them <3.

Yn.

'tell the boys I love them', Jungkook read the same line over and over again, did this mean she didn't love him anymore? was he no longer existent to her?

He didn't know what that line meant, but it made him sad, sad that he wasn't part of the 'boys' that she was referring to, nope, he was no long one of her 'boys', she was someone who he'd never be able to face again.

A pang went through his chest as reality settled in once again. He had no redemption from this, no one should forgive him for the things he had done to her, not even him.

"Did you see her when she left?" he asked as he picked up the lunchbox, seeing the perfectly made kookies inside, tears welled up in his eyes as he looked down at them, kookies were Yn's version of dasik, a traditional Korean cookie that she made often.

Nostalgia hit him like a truck as he picked up the fragile dessert, the smell of sesame seeds bringing back memories of the two of them in her parents' kitchen, him teasing her while she toiled away at the counter, grinding, kneading and pressing.

He didn't help because she always yelled at him for making a mess but oh, the things he'd do to get her to yell at him again, even if it was for just one more time.

"Yn made dasik????" Jimin said, peering at the delicacy, Jungkook quickly wiped away his tears, trying to seem strong, he didn't want his hyungs seeing him cry over sweets.

Jimin's words had caught the attention of everyone else, making them all whine, "How come he gets sweets and I get nothing!!" Jin huffed as he pulled his phone out to dial Yn's number, a number Jungkook didn't have anymore.

"Yah, Jungkookie, sharing is caring you know" Namjoon said as he got up from his place when Yoongi stopped him, he knew how much the cookies meant to Jungkook now that he and Yn were no longer the same that they used to be.

Jungkook quietly walked back to his room with the box and water bottle, plopping down on the floor so he could lean his back against the bed, he opened the box again.

He picked one delicate kookie up, she had named it after him when things had still been fine, no, not fine, when things had been wonderful. He never thought these cookies would mean so much to him.

The tears that he had controlled so carefully in the kitchen flowed free as the memories flooded his mind, every memory of Yn fitting like the beautiful stained glass windows of churches, he rushed to pull out his phone, scrolling through the bin in search of pictures of the two of them.

He didn't know why Yn's presence had affected him so much, but it had affected him in a way no break up could. It had been an year since he and Yn had gone off the deep end, cutting off contact with each other. Jungkook had gone the extra mile to delete all the pictures he had of Yn and to make her life as horrible as he could.

He couldn't blame it on his, now, ex-girlfriend Minjoon who had encouraged him to cut her out, all he could do was blame himself for it, he had no reason for being like that, no excuse to make himself feel better, he never thought Yn leaving his life would be more painful than Minjoon leaving.

Fuck, he had never though Yn would leave his life, if someone had told that to 19 year old Jungkook, he would have laughed in their face. But now, here he was, crying over Yn's kookies and her photos.

He had been a terrible friend and he'd never forgive himself for it, he had done unmentionable things that had ripped Yn from him despite her trying to hold on for so long.

His tears turned into sobs as he remembered all the times she had just taken his abuse without a word while the rest of the boys had yelled at him.

He was a fool for choosing Minjoon over her, when he had broken up with Minjoon the day before yesterday, he hadn't been sad that they had broken up, he was sad that he had let go of Yn, that he had lost hold of the one constant in his life.

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

Namjoon pressed his ear to the door, hoping to hear something, anything, that would indicate Jungkook was still alive in there. It had been 3 days since he had locked himself in, only coming out at the dead of night to grab more booze before going back inside.

He felt Jungkook deserved ever inch of pain he was going through for everything he had done to Yn, Namjoon pitied him, the kid was still young, supposed to be carefree and making merry, but here he was, drinking his life away.

While Namjoon definitely wouldn't mind leave Jungkook alone to get over it himself, he couldn't let the kid just die in there.

Jungkook jerked awake when a bucket of water was splashed on his face, his head and neck aching at the sudden movement, "What??" he thought as he looked around, empty bottles of alcohol scattered around his room.

He didn't think as he laid back down in the puddle of water, ready to go back to sleep when a sharp pain shot through his body, starting from his leg, he immediately jerked up again, his gaze on the chunky pair of shoes that had just caused him pain.

"I TOLD YOU TO DRINK MODERATELY" a voice yelled as his eyes traveled above the shoes till his eyes met Yn's dark ones, he didn't know what to do or say now that he was face to face with him.

"You need to get over Minjoon, she was a hoe for breaking your heart, but that doesn't mean you become an alcoholic, now go take a shower, you smell of garbage" she said, pulling Jungkook onto his feet. He swayed a little letting the words sink in.

"You think I'm this upset because of Minjoon?" he asked when his brain finally started working again, "Ummm... are you not?" she asked, seeming surprised at the revelation.

"No, I'm not" he said, stepping closer to her, quickly stopping when he saw her move away, "Go shower Jungkook, we'll talk once you've eaten something" she said softly, her concern for him evident in her tone.

He quietly left, heading to the bathroom, praying that she'd still be there by the time he came back. He washed his hair and body as quickly as possible, clumsily dropping the bottle of shampoo and bar of soap in the process.

He stepped out to a somewhat clean room, the puddle of water was gone, but the bottles remained the way they were before, he quickly gathered them up, using his foot to swing the door open as he head into the living room.

He saw Yn and Jimin chilling on the couch, giggling over something on Jimin's phone, oblivious to his presence. He loudly dropped the cans and bottles into the trash making the two of them turn towards him.

"All clean?" Yn asked, craning her neck so she could see him clearly. He nodded, he had freshened up although his hair was still wet. She beckoned him over to the couch, shoving Jimin out of his place next to her (it made him whine but he left eventually) .

A bowl of steaming hot ramyeon sat on the coffee table, the serving was enough for two people and Jungkook assumed it was both for him and Yn. She turned onto her side, facing him as he sat on the couch, he did the same, pulling his feet up and crossing them as she stared at him with a smile.

She picked up the bowl of ramyeon, handing it to him, "Eat." she demanded, giving him a pair of chopsticks as well. "Are you not eating?" he asked, digging his chopsticks in, "You haven't eaten in three days, Jungkook, you need to eat" she answered as he slurped the noodles, "this is good!!" he exclaimed.

Yn almost drooled at the noises he made while eating, her mouth watering at the thought of exactly how good that ramyeon was, "you want some?" Jungkook asked as he pulled up a piece of chicken from inside, hovering it within the reach of her mouth.

Yn gulped as she stared at the piece, no, no no, she should not, "go on, one bite" Jungkook tempted, his hand still infront of her mouth, "no? are you sure?" he teased, seeing right through her poker face.

Yn gave in when Jungkook made a huge show of pulling his chopsticks away, leaning forward and grabbing the piece of chicken with her mouth. "I'll go get you another pair of chopsticks" Jungkook aid as he got up, he felt better, maybe he and Yn would go back to how things were before.

He hopped back onto the couch, handing her the chopsticks. They passed the bowl back and forth, each of them taking a bite and passing it back. "Why did you come here anyway?" he asked as she slurped on the noodles.

"Why? should I not come?" she demanded as she passed the bowl back, he paused, looking up at her, "I just never thought you'd come back here after everything" he answered, taking a big bite before giving it back.

"want to order some jajangmeyoen? I don't think this ramen will be enough" he said, scrolling through his phone for the restaurant's phone number, Yn hummed in agreement as she passed the bowl back, "here order" he said, handing her his phone as he continued to eat.

"I came because Namjoon called me saying you drank yourself to death" she admitted as she dialed the number, ordering a variety of side dishes before hanging up.

"You were worried" he said, reframing the answer she gave, "I never stopped" she mumbled as she finished the last of the ramen in the bowl, the sauce getting on her upper lip as she drank the rest of the soup.

"Why did you care so much?" he mumbled as he pulled his long sleeve to wipe away the sauce o her face, like a parent tending to their messy child. "Because I love you" she huffed as she saw tears well up in Jungkook's eyes at her words.

She pulled him into her arms, holding him tight as he cried, 'poor Jungkook, he's been through so much' she thought as she hugged him tight, "I though you didn't love me anymore" he sobbed as he held on to her waist, refusing to let go.

"Aigoo, why did you think that, did I ever give you a reason to think that I don't love you anymore?" she coo'd, it was funny, how Jungkook was much bigger than she was in size, yet he tended to make himself as small as possible when she held him.

"But I hurt you so much, why would you still?" he sobbed, she held him tighter, letting him cry, "you were in love, I don't blame you, you didn't know any better" she assured, "That doesn't excuse everything I did" he mumbled.

It was true, it didn't excuse what he did but he was too precious for Yn to push away, he meant too much for her and she knew it wasn't totally Jungkook's fault that they had fallen apart in pieces.

She had put all her baggage on him, regardless of if he could carry it for her or not, it had been a key factor in driving him away. She had been too dependent on him, she basically revolved around him till they broke apart.

But Jungkook going away had made her better, more independent and more social. She stopped connecting comfort with Jungkook, he was not her comfort during those times, she had learnt to comfort herself, make herself happy.

During the time her and Jungkook had been fighting, her ego had flared up, she stopped trying with him, preferring to return the snarky attitude that he was giving her, his actions had hurt her pride but she was over it now, she had made peace with the past and with Jungkook's behavior.

She knew he was suffering and she hated seeing him like this, "don't cry, don't cry kook, it's okay, I'm fine, I'm over it" she mumbled as his sobs turned into silent tears.

She looked up to see Namjoon standing at the doorway, seeing awkward and uncomfortable. Yn gave him a small smile, he considered that as permission to sneak into his room quietly.

Jungkook's sobs turned into silent tears as he came to terms with reality, Yn was here with him again, she was the same, she didn't hate him, she still loved him the same. "Who the hell even told you that I don't love you anymore?" Yn demanded as she saw his tears subside, he just held on to her now, no more crying.

"You wrote 'tell the boys i love them' what else do you want me to think" he whined as buried his face in her neck, not wanting to see her eyes narrow at him, "yah, I didn’t write that note so you'd overthink and cry about it" she scolded as she squished his cheeks in her hand.

He pulled away, getting up to go drink some water, he just had the most satisfying cry of his life and he felt lighter, maybe it was the dehydration, he didn't know but he certainly felt lighter. His head was more clear than it had been in ages.

He was washing his face when the doorbell rang, "jajangmyeon!!" Yn exclaimed as she went to answer the door, taking the various boxes before grabbing his wallet, "where is your card?" She yelled as she dug through it. "Its on the desk in my room" he yelled back as he scrubbed the soap off.

He felt happy, hearing her shuffling around in the apartment after such a long time, it made him think that they could go back to how they were before. But for now, he was satisfied, happy, he'd take whatever she'd give him now. He had a lot of making up to do and he swore he'dtreat her better than he had. He'd make himself a better friend for her.

Even if they didn't become best friends right away, he swore he'd put in the effort and consideration to make himself deserving of her love again.

70 notes · View notes

nurseofren · 4 years ago

Text

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 27 (NSFW)

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Read Chapter twenty-six

Title: There is No Redemption

Words: 7.4K

Summary: Happy trail worship? Happy trail worship.

ST Rambles: Hello readers, I hope you enjoy this part. I am in my final semester for my ADN and cannot promise even monthly updates at this time. Please, please, please comment your thoughts because I don't want to produce content that is not enjoyable. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

[MASTERLIST] || BANNER / @elmidol

Stress enveloped your skull in throbbing pain, Karmen’s six-hour rundown stinging your senses and drawing you inward. Halfway through, you had already begun to feel the excess of information take its toll; Zag’s voice – unpleasant in small doses – grated into you, each word coming too fast and leaving too soon. Thankfully, no doubt to cover herself, she had left you with a thumb drive; it summarized everything she’d mentioned.

After the ordeal, when she left by the sharp click of her heels, you understood why it was recommended to arrive two days prior to the initial hearing: you were utterly and dreadfully exhausted. After unpacking – ensuring easy access to your favorite socks and keeping Snoke’s letter tucked into the back drawer of a desk – you had sat in bed for an hour trying to refresh with the thumb drive’s contents; you’d were determined to be prepared for tomorrow’s shift at Canto Bight’s recovery wing. If nothing else, you would not make a fool of yourself during your practice here. This you swore to yourself.

At some point you had drifted to sleep, waking to find your cheek stuck to the datapad that’d been propped up before you. The sunset woke you with a searing ray of light, screaming fuchsias and hazy purples warming your outstretched arm as they cast through open curtains. The breeze rolled off of the bay and tickled loose hair over your nape, a deep breath stretching your lungs awake before you unfurled from yourself.

The radar at your wrist indicated Kylo Ren was near but not in his quarters, probably not inside the building. It was a confusing feeling – the unsteadiness you felt when revisiting your earlier interaction, the vagueness of his words contradicted by the certainty in which they’d been delivered, but simultaneously this calm in your chest since you had left him. Although you had no idea what he’d gone on about, or what in time meant, his mere presence – the fact that he was near and would continue to be – allowed you these glimmers of peace.

Not since Starkiller. Not since Snoke. Not Mason and his baseless confidence, no matter how much you wished to latch onto it; not Talia, who had helped you back from your darkest moment. The only things that stilled you were the known proximity of your master, and the nature of the words he’d earlier spoken. You’d felt it that recent night on the Finalizer, how it lingered in your muscles just before you’d dozed off, how it seemed his presence had scared your nightmares away.

However ridiculous and backwards, Kylo Ren – the one whose pain is printed on your skin, who led a slaughter just strides away from you – had become a constant. It was never what you had expected, but when you thought of the trial now, what eased your nerves was nothing less than the raven-haired warrior whose face was slashed with midnight hues of pain.

Much like you, you’d come to realize, he had survived Starkiller, and the event changed him. Though you could not know for sure, you began to wonder if what had gone on had not only left him with the wounds that’d wet your skin, but perhaps ones that were deeper – ones that were not so visible. Something happened before that explosion, something more than whatever fight had earned him that scar.

You shook your head; this was too much to think on right now. With a throw draped over your back, you trudged through the room and out into the chill of your side-balcony. This sky held more beauty than any you’d ever seen; you watched the sun descend, spying a domed, octagonal pavilion at the far left of the side gardens. It dripped with violet-petaled ropes and emerald ivies, was supported by scalloped columns entwined with twinkling blooms welded from gold, the whole stage centered around a sunken fire pit.

Considering for a moment, you saw it would have a better view of the sunset, and you’d been cooped up since arriving. It was a quick decision, catching view of a spiral of stairs that led to the grounds, but only after noting the pair of doors a few paces left of your room’s. They were closed, and the inner curtains seemed to be shut, the room behind them dark. Empty.

No, Kylo Ren was not here, but – a thumb over your radar – he was not far. Somewhere off on his own business. Training, maybe. At least, that’s what you supposed kept you from traveling with him, the thought frustrating. Maybe – no, undoubtedly – he would never admit to it, never show it, but he was still recovering.

Ten days ago he was in a medically induced coma talking about someone named Ben and how he’s dead. Bacta works wonders, but it means nothing if a patient is noncompliant with post-operative restrictions, like swinging around a plasma sword for hours on end, or doing trial runs with the Force – which, although you knew little about, one could easily assume it put strain on the body.

Maybe you were wrong and your master was completely fine, maybe the Force aided in healing. No matter, you worried; for him, mostly, never forgetting how he appeared in that medbay, but also for yourself. It was clear that you cared for him – for fuck’s sake, when you thought you’d never see him again you wanted to tell him you loved him – and you knew his pursuits could very likely be the death of him. Stubborn as you might be to acknowledge it, so long as he was okay and not recklessly shredding through healed wounds, so long as he returned to you, you could rest somewhat soundly.

Hugging your blanket, tighter when the wind blew, you wandered down to the courtyard’s trim lawn, along the overflowing flowerbeds that brimmed with brilliant colors, until you met the few steps that led to the pavilion’s stage. Flames shocked you when you stepped onto the eight-sided base, your presence triggering a hidden system. The rectangular pit exploded into a rainbow of fire, thin veils of flames ascending elegantly into an ordered myriad. The pit was massive, consuming the base but for a few paces from each support.

Much like everything else, the pavilion was grand in size and decoration; the hearth’s hues danced along the draped flora, at least ten paces separating each gold-threaded pillar. Everything here was explicitly luxurious, so big and gorgeous. You wanted to settle into it, but it was temporary, and you would not know how fatal that fact was until it was too late.

Farther out, flames rippled over the bay; the sinking heat of the sun endeared your skin, the warmth at your back growing in distance as you gave in to the silent call of the scorching sky. First tracing the tip of one of the gold leaves woven to a pillar, admiring the detailed stems and ridges, you curled up against the column’s wide base. Head caressed by the smooth, cool stone, knees curled close to your chest, you were glamored by the water’s rhythmic sway, wondering if you would ever have the chance to feel it on your skin.

It took little effort to keep Karmen’s lecture from your thoughts, too lost to the burgundy of dusk that bloomed as the sun wilted toward the bay. A stillness surrounded you, and then you tuned into the chirping whispers of bugs that remained hidden with the fall of night. It did not bother you in the slightest, their distant songs a reminder of your life before the academy. A passing thought, fond amusement lazily humming in your chest – there are no crickets in space.

You remained folded against the pillar for some time, watching night creep over the city, more grateful for the heat on your back as warmth waned, the moon climbing higher with each lulling minute. The stone iced into your cheek. You went to leave, but your commlink buzzed at your waist, and you knew it would be wiser to keep this particular conversation outside.

Elbows to your knees, you ruffled a hand through your hair, closed your eyes, and answered Mason’s call. “How’s your day, McCarty?” There was no use in starting an argument if he had moved on from earlier.

“Probably better than yours, if I had to guess.” He sounded chipper. It was a relief.

“Well, what went on? Where’d you go? Who’d you see? What’d you eat?”

“I’ve really just been hanging out at the house since getting here. Caught a nap, which was nice. Soto sent me a transmission detailing updates on a few patients.”

He wasn’t hostile at all. Hopefully it meant he was done being weird. “I also got a nap. Which, agreed, is definitely nice. Especially after being kept in a room with Zag for six hours and trying to keep my head from exploding.”

“Six hours? With Zag? Are they trying to get you convicted of murder?”

You shared a laugh, scooting along the stone floor and peering up to the ceiling. It was tiled with mosaics, the fire’s vibrant colors reflecting off of it and shifting along the intricate designs. The view of the city was wider from this position, distant lights shimmering in windows that peered into whatever parties were undoubtedly happening.

“She isn’t that bad. It’s just her voice. And I barely have a handle on anything other than the fact that I have my first shift tomorrow, and then two days after that is the initial hearing. And I don’t even want to think about that to begin with, so…”

“Well,” he sighed your name, “I’ll be there. Bright and early, just like you. Wearing my second-best attire, saving the very best for the official trial, of course.”

“Jeez, that’s another thing, right? They fly us out here, put me up in some military-grade villa, but they give me nothing to wear, are aware that my residence just exploded on Starkiller, and then still say I can’t wear my uniform. I just find that a bit unfair. But that’s what I think, which we both know has not mattered since the very beginning of all this. I don’t even know why I expected anything different. I’ll just have to request transport to the shops or something. And then make credits appear out of thin air to pay for it.”

With notably increased enthusiasm Mason said, “Actually, I, uh, I was going through the house earlier and there’s actually a lot left over from my family’s recent trip. You’re free to come over and take some stuff back to your embassy if you want.”

“Alright, first – not my embassy, and if we’re calling it anything, I vote palace. Seriously—” you stared at a trellis that overflowed with wild blooms of every shade of red, the dead, fallen petals mocking you in the familiar way they pooled beneath. “—this place is too beautiful for any of the old businessmen who stay here. It’s actually ridiculous.”

“So it’s not homey, after all?”

A bellowing laugh came from the center of your chest, echoing up to the domed roof and into the growing dark. “No. No. Not homey. Not quaint. None of that. Just giant and spectacular.”

“Well, whatever it is, do you want to come over and grab some clothes?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah. That’s a lot better than spending credits I don’t have. Although maybe I’m worrying for nothing? Don’t they forgive your debt when you die, anyway?”

Mason did not laugh, did not even speak, and your amusement fell into alarm. An edge menaced along each pointed word when he spoke; “Maybe they’ll forgive your debt, but I won’t forgive you for dying.” He grunted in rejection. “You’re not dying, so I don’t know why we’re discussing this.”

Silence swallowed you both, and for a moment you could hear him trembling, hear the shakiness of his breath. A sharp exhale startled your hand from your ear. And then it was quiet again. He cleared his throat, and you noticed how thick it had become. Was he crying?

“Mason, you need to tell me what’s going on. And don’t say-,”

“Nothing is going on. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“Funny, because when you say that, when you tell me we’re fine when I didn’t ask, it makes me think the exact opposite.”

He sighed, but at this point there was a good chance it was more exasperation or fuming than anything else. “I’m not having this conversation when I can’t see you.”

“Well, I’ll just turn my transmission on and we can-,”

“No.” Clipped, barked. Final.

It concaved your chest. Mason had never spoken to you like this. Your teeth scraped at your bottom lip. “Should I be worried?”

He paused. “No,” as it gritted through his teeth, your name was contoured with wisps of ire. An ounce less of restraint and whatever he was holding back would crack this hardened, taut façade.

The worst came to mind. All you could manage was a terrified whisper, “Are you revoking your seat to testify? Is that what this is about? Am I about – fuck – am I about to- I can’t lose you. I can’t-,”

“I told you. I told you I will be there.” Frosted fury swept through his following pause. His flat tone was laced with quiet hurt when he next said, “Do you really think I could do that to you? Leave you in the dust like that?”

“No. I guess not.”

“You guess not,” he thought aloud, a long drag of breath crackling into your ear. “I’m glad that you’re settled in, and… good luck during your shift tomorrow. You don’t need it, I know, but nonetheless.”

He was dismissing you. You hated it. “I’m not hanging up until I know we’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” he said simply, too fast. Mason cleared his throat. “Request transport for the morning after your shift. You can shop around the closets and after, we can order lunch and… and we can talk. About things. Everything.”

It was apparent he would not give anything more away, but you knew from his flat tone that whatever it was, was detrimental to him. Or you. Or both.

“Yeah. I’ll put in the request after shift tomorrow.”

Another long, aching silence. You listened to his breath, trying and failing at ignoring the knives in it. The line remained silent, the hanging static a backdrop to the hidden, harmless creatures humming in the night.

“I love you, Mason,” you prompted, teeth catching your trembling lips, time choking you with every halved second that trudged along.

It killed you, every inhale adding to the weight in your chest, every empty, wordless moment he spent cutting into you with a silent blade.

Another second and you turned back to the heightening tide of the bay, the clear night sky dying it a deep navy. Even as you tried to focus on the waves that foamed along the distant shore, there was no sound louder than Mason’s nonresponse.

“Goodnight,” Mason said, small, far enough away that it splintered through your heart like ice wedged through rock.

“Good-,” the line went dead, the static dying, a night-kissed wave crashing in your periphery, “-night.”

The iridescent veils of hearth rippled before you now, turning away from the seemingly infinite expanse of water. Even so, you shivered, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the weather. Tucking your commlink into your waist pocket, loosing a long-kept breath, you stood from the stone and clasped your blanket over your shoulders. With a final glance, chin to your shoulder, you appreciated the beauty of your first night here.

Whatever awaited you tomorrow, the next day, and in the weeks to come? It would remain. For now, just this one moment alone, you could pretend that everything was okay. Just for a moment.

A soft touch brushed your shoulder, but when you turned to meet whoever it belonged to, you found there was no one around. But a light caught your eye, one that had not been there before. Maybe that interruption to the dark captured your attention, but not at all was it what kept your gaze above the gardens.

Through the clear night, a breeze danced through the flora, glittering scarlet petals into the shadows. Above those dwindling rubies, leaning over the balcony’s curve, was Kylo Ren. Behind him, the golden light of his quarters caressed his back, small fragments draping over the sharp, toned muscles of his shoulders. He was staring down to you, his gaze laving along your figure, eyes those of a predator aware their prey was no match for them. The ever-heightening moon was all that lit his front, but it was enough. No, so much more than enough. Entrancing. Captivating. Beguiling.

Light cascaded along the taut strength of Kylo’s abdomen, his broad, thick chest emanating with the smooth white of the dusk’s sun. Once more, like it always did, the scar skating through his features kept your attention. From a distance it was less intrusive, but its presence sank your heart like the sun had wandered into the sea.

A whip of night air pushed his hair back to tease his ears, his head slightly cocking to the side when you found his eyes again. There was no color to them, none that you could see so far away, but you felt their heat slink along your lips, then your neck, over your chest, and lower still. When they claimed yours once more, they were sculpted with steadfast steel, strong and slithering, ordering your compliance to the smoking promises beyond.

Without noticing, that chill from earlier had left you, and you gathered the blanket so it hung from your forearm. Kylo held you with his eyes, the fire’s warmth falling away when you stepped off the platform and wandered, in leisure, down the steps and into the plush lawn. A dew was readying to form on the grass beneath your bare feet, the coolness welcome under his blazing attention. One step, two, another, and a final; small, shuffling, like you were hypnotized – truthfully, you could have been, but there was none but your own intent in the steps that carried you closer to him.

Only when he straightened to his full height, standing away from the balcony’s edge, did you halt your advance. He paused there, watching you, so gracefully still you were unsure of his breathing. From his new position you could no longer see his hands, but – you could feel them. A pressure along your cheek, your heart stammering at how its span so completely matched his own, and then around your throat, dizzying when it teased your carotids. Breath shivered from your slack mouth, catching when that – his – ghosted touch skimmed down your sternum and pushed into your rib cage.

Kylo made no sound, but when the night’s quiet scattered around your faint, gasped moan – feeling the whispered hands smooth over your hips, around the front of your thighs – you saw his jaw flutter, darkness and moonlight tangling when he gave you one final glance. The phantom touch left, a feline smirk flickered along his lips, and when his brows descended and veiled those deep, deep eyes, Kylo turned and sauntered out of sight.

But you understood his message, the silent one that only his body spoke, and you knew that his leaving was not goodnight, but an invitation. One you fully intended on accepting.

The trees swayed above you, the beds of perfectly spaced flowers blowing with the gentle breeze and combining with the sea behind to fill your head with the salty, fresh aroma of a Canto Bight night. Each step you took along the patterned grass shimmered anticipation through your veins, heady, wanton thoughts brimming in your mind.

The cold stone that marked the ground level’s patio shocked through you, wet crimson petals that had pooled below the trellis now clinging to the soles of your feet. You did not have time, or at least were desperate to not waste any, to pluck them off, allowing them to travel with you as you led them up the curved staircase. As you climbed the steps, you stole a fleeting glimpse of the bay; from this height the city’s nightlife sheened along the shore, a few private ships zooming above the skyline and carrying their passengers to events unknown to you.

Events that you could not have cared less about, not when you arrived to the second-level balcony, not when you saw the swaying curtain beyond Kylo Ren’s open, waiting door. No, those events meant nil, exceedingly so when you found the beginnings of a trail leading into his room, the first crumb that of pooled, discarded athletic pants.

Instant, overwhelming chills clamored about your skull, the blanket draped over your arm joining the black bottoms when your limbs went wobbly. Through the wind-swept gossamer you spied the second addition – one long, impossibly large, black sock – and when you came closer, the cool of night waning as you met the threshold, your heart thrummed louder at the nearing shaft of light that fled the refresher’s entrance.

Heated tiles warmed your first steps into Kylo’s room, the coquettish curtain kissing the tip of your nose before the door at your back locked shut in near silence. You brushed past the veil of fabric and took in your surroundings, quite different from what they were earlier. The golden rays of morning had since been overridden by soft panes of night, only the moon reflecting onto the light tile, not a single star to join it. The bed’s canopy remained shut, its thin sheets cascading around the bed so there was ample space to walk within its soft confines. And from that canopy, from the circular track above, bloomed delicate, mild light; it melted midway down the canopy, fading to nothing before it breeched the polished ivory below.

Another step and you noticed the trail of scarlet, dew-drop-covered petals you were leaving in your wake. On the step up from the bed’s level lay a second sock, so you padded to it, and tuned into the sound of heavy, rushing water that became louder as you delved further into the dimly lit room. This level was dark save for the glow of the open refresher; you followed that light like a lost vessel in space, hands trembling as you passed through the sitting area with soundless strides. Finally, as you’d calculated at the earlier bareness of his chest, you found the piece of clothing that signaled your final destination lying at your feet.

Atop the refresher’s threshold lay a pair of black boxer-briefs – unfolded, just as they’d appear fresh off the heated, muscled body from which they’d come. A smile played at your lips, remembering how the pair he’d so generously provided you the morning after you’d first slept next to him had hugged your hips with subtle compression. Those, unfortunately, were undoubtedly obliterated with everything else that had exploded with Starkiller.

Kylo Ren was nowhere within view, but running water tucked behind a corner to your left, and when steam swirled around an inlet that bordered a sleek, unbroken wall of ash-grey tile, your lungs lit with need, with want, your thoughts only focused on the body and man that waited for you just beyond view, just out of reach. Suddenly you became aware of how overdressed you were, so you turned to your right and found a mirror that ruled its own wall and plucked open the top button of your uniform.

The fogged silver expanse provided a blurred, softened outline of your near-bare body, scalding goosebumps scraping up your neck at the thought of Kylo’s slicked, dripping body. Hands hooked behind your back, you loosed your bra and smoothed the straps down the sides of your arms. And then all that covered you were the lack-luster panties the Finalizer had provided all those months ago, but they soon joined the small pile at your feet, leaving you naked and anticipatory and adamant.

Plopping your watch onto your clothes, you squared your shoulders, fixed your posture, and approached the heat of the hidden shower. Its warm embrace evoked such a calm through you, first loosening your shoulders, then steadying your breath.

Beyond the smoke hued barrier was a chamber of luxury, the water cascading from above like it came from an invisible storm cloud; its volume suggested a harsh pressure, but, stepping beneath the jets that seemed to span the entire stall, your skin was graced with the pleasant fall of a spring shower. Looking up, blinking through the misted warmth, you found the navy night sky peering down at you through the clear glass ceiling.

All light but that of the moon left the stall, and when your attention shifted down, you saw him through the sheets of water that kept you apart. The air was thick with fog and mist and night, but he remained the most devastatingly gorgeous person you’d ever seen, ever known. You needed him to be closer, you needed to be closer to him. No matter if you’d been with him those few nights ago, and though you’d spoken just hours ago, there was a tautness that tightened as your steps brought you to him.

Arms at his sides, stance strong and confident, Kylo Ren was a stride away from you, and you stopped. Inky black hair dripped down his neck, and his mouth was set in a flat, unreadable line, but all you could think of was how it felt you were seeing him for the first time all over again. He was different now, body scarred and worn from the passing of time. You did not stare at the red and black that had only been there for such a short time now. You appreciated it.

Kylo observed you, and a measure after your gaze followed the ebony ribbon rested in his countenance, you lifted a hand to it. He tensed and you caught his eyes, giving him a small nod before the very tip of your fourth finger kissed the start of his scar. You watched him, vaguely aware of your hand slipping along the marked path through his brow and down his cheek. Breath pushed from him in eased waves, his eyes danced between yours, and when you reached the line of his jaw and tapped your finger to the raised, pinking skin there, you closed your eyes and leaned up on your toes so you could press an aching kiss to it.

That tenseness that’d clanged into him at your touch was instantly gone, the heated streams above not a match to the stifling relief that fogged from his nares. So near to him, a second hand pushing through wetted, onyx locks, you remembered how he’d stared up at you on the Command Shuttle, how unreadable his expression was when his new scars had still been fresh wounds.

Your touch found the tail end of his healing flesh, and you swallowed down a thick, betraying sob. “Why did you believe me?” you whispered, not looking up to him. “When I told you I hated you and I wanted to quit. When I said,” you winced, “when I called you a bastard and said I wished I could forget you. Why didn’t you fight it longer?”

Kylo was quiet for a moment, body still but not reluctant to the steady meandering of your fingers. Something haunted him when he said, “Irredeemable bastard, if you’ve forgotten.”

“No,” your throat bobbed, “I haven’t. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day. Any, any part of it.” Looking up at him, you smoothed your hand over the scar settled into his shoulder. “After that morning, after everything, why did you believe me?”

“You were saying goodbye,” he murmured, like he’d mulled over that day time and time again and never considered the possibility. “Before Takodana. You knew. He’d gotten to you by then.” A note of betrayal sharpened his tongue, a snarl lighting when he referred to Snoke.

The hand that wasn’t tracing circles along his scarred muscles now toyed with his ear, the tip of your index finger molding to the curved pinnae. “Kylo,” just a breath, nearly drowned by the water ricocheting at your feet, “answer me. Please.”

Smooth, low, he began, “Because who could-,” he swallowed, considering you before starting over, “Because I’ve never known anyone who didn’t hate me. And I’ve always been a bastard. So when you said those things, after that morning, after you’d ran through Starkiller to tell me and kept saying them…”

Memories fluttered behind his eyes, and as their burning brown centered glittered against the navy night, you lifted your hand so you could hold his face, hold it like a parent would caress their child’s tear-sodden cheek. Kylo blinked back to you and you comforted the purpled skin beneath his eye.

He did not want to voice the answers you sought, but you watched as, piece by piece, you dented one of those walls he’d erected in that time-stained interrogation room. Perhaps it was a hopeful thought, but you swore you felt him ease into your hand.

“I stopped fighting because only a fool counters the truth of his life.” Kylo’s throat bobbed, his deep, shadowed gaze swallowing you whole. He caught your hand and led it flat along his broad chest, and then to the panes of his abdomen, placing it over the bruised, raised flesh of the scar you’d yet to explore. “I believed you because there was no reason to doubt you.”

The showering heat from above shielded that which was blurring your vision. He believed you because he believed those things of himself. After seeing him wear so many masks, physical or phantom, you saw it in his eyes that he still thought those things and had for his entire life.

And then it made sense, and the realization dragged jagged, thorn-wrapped talons through your heart. You whispered through the water, wondering if you were speaking only for yourself when you said, “That’s why you didn’t look inside my head. You didn’t think it would show you anything different. You didn’t think I could ever feel differently.”

You ran your thumb along the uneven ridge of the scar forming over his side and tucked your other arm around his waist. With the force that kept moons anchored to their planets, you pulled him in and nestled into the notch of his breastbone.

Through your teeth, “You are not a bastard. Or irredeemable,” your fingers dipped to the center of the healing tissue, “I’ve learned that we make the choices we think are best, and if that’s true, if I believe it? What do either of us have to be redeemed for?”

Kylo said your name, clear as the night that loomed overhead, and a patient finger tipped your chin up. “Nothing. Because there is no redemption for those who do not want it.”

Intensity hardened his face, and once more you felt that sense of equality between him and you. Long fingers smoothed into your drenched hair, and you found a prompt in his brow. Sighing, lungs stuttering, you asked, “What, then, if not redemption?”

The hand that he’d set over yours shifted to your hip, thick fingers prodding at your flesh. Kylo’s touch left your chin and the pad of his thumb rolled over the faint scar that cut into your hairline, a twinge of pain lighting at the memory of its origin; it had healed days ago, but you would never forget the sound of it cracking open when Robbie knocked your skull against the durasteel door.

Kylo stopped musing when he heard you wince, his eyes meeting yours in a stark, unwavering gaze. He smoothed over the blight a final time and proceeded to skate his fingers along your jaw, his thumb coming to rest over your bottom lip. Similar to this morning, yet colder and with a quiet fury breathing beyond his eyes, he looked at you with solidarity.

Calm, sure, adamant, Kylo said, “Retribution.”

A moment to process was spent in his gaze, studying how unbreakable it was, swimming in the shadowed hazel that poured into you. Kylo’s eyes flicked to your lips, and before he could look away, you leaned up so you could reach his own. The swirled hair at his nape slithered through your fingers when you swept you hand from his abdomen and up his torso. Massive, enveloping hands trailed praise along your body until they were mirrored under your breasts.

Exploring his skin, your fingers took residence over the small of his back, digging red trails along the slick surface. You moaned into Kylo’s mouth when a capable hand claimed your supple chest and kneaded into you. He growled in response, a predatory sound that rippled through your nerves and tightened deep, deep in your belly. The pliant pads of his thumbs circled your nipples, the very tips of his nails flicking upward before he added his forefingers and pinched the sensitive peaks to his will.

Kylo mouthed the hinge of your jaw, the bridge of his nose slipping along the bone until you surrendered your neck to him. He hummed against your artery, sucking away the beaded moisture that’d collected for the past few minutes – or had it been hours? Time evaded you further when the schemes of his tongue at your throat delved deeper, revealed themselves further when he laved at your clavicle, shifting between kissing and biting and marking as he made his way to your breastbone.

His muscled back flexed as your fingers routed to his front, dipping low until you found the haze of soft, wet hair that grew from his pelvis. Kylo continued his endeavors and pulled you in by the curve of your back so he could bare your chest to him and run his nose under the base of your breast. His need for your body was evident in the way he bent you to his will, cradling your back so he could have you, but also permitting a sense of safety in the relentless strength that flowed from his forearms through to your marrow.

Near limp in his hold, you tread your fingers down his pelvis and savored the feel of that patch of hair, feeling his pulse beat beneath it, reveling how water collected and fled in such a slow, teasing manner. His chest was to yours, so you felt, rather than heard, the pleasure vibrate from him, deepening when you grazed the very foundations of his hardening shaft. He breathed into your skin, mouthing at your breast and sucking painful paths as he went. The heat of his mouth melded around your nipple, and he bit, and even when you winced and writhed with satisfied hurt, Kylo kept on; not until you were sure he’d drawn blood did his teeth – their unique ridges now throbbing into your breast – leave you, replaced by the salve of his plush, scorching lips. The body of his tongue was structured with adamant, laving over your pebbled peak until poems of pleasure groaned from the depths of your chest.

He leaned you back up and shifted his attention to the remaining half of your body, but you needed him just as much, and you wanted to litter his body with the same pleasure he’d given yours. So, snaking your hands to his jaw, you kissed the hinge opposite to his scar and pecked harder and longer, sucking at his skin like the blood that bruised would grant you eternal life. Falling to your knees in a steady, unrushed descent, you kissed every inch of his abdomen, every bump and ripple of skin that was present around the mending injury. With eyes peering up, hands cherishing the fronts of his thighs, you tongued the scarred tissue and watched him shutter with ecstasy, eyes half-lolling, mouth slackening for a second before he swallowed down whatever satisfaction would have left him.

You teethed at the soft, raised skin, watching him, content when a guiding hand pet down your slick hair. Shifting to his middle, you hummed from one hip bone to the next, feeling the tickle of hair that fled from his naval and dispersed in an even, thick layer of black atop his pubis. Hunger ravaged your throat and you nuzzled into the soft bed of obsidian hair. A kiss to it, then a nip, and then the tip of your nose swirled around the dark patch, his cock twitching at the side of your face.

Anchoring your eyes to his yet again, you dragged the flat of your tongue through the maintained, drenched hair and pushed both your hands along his inner thighs. The muscles beneath your touch sang, streamed just as fluidly as the droplets that were trickling down your spine. Pulling away from him, you faced his cock and observed how it bobbed with your eyes on it, watched it strain for friction when your hands teased both sides of his base, sifting through the dark curls beneath.

The moonlight painted his shaft with subtle, breathtaking contours – a shadow cast under the spongey ridge of his head, light glinting off the misted moisture that’d caught on his flushed shaft. Each prominent vein cast a winding whisper of darkness just a measure from the next. It hypnotized you, the way they overlapped and crossed at points, bulging out from his cock and shifting with each throbbing pulse of blood that clamored through him.

Curious fingers flitted along the heavy, hot column of flesh, tapping it and listening to the thickening breath from the man watching you through ravenous eyes. A smirk curved your mouth, and you peppered a light, whispered kiss to his slit, pushing his cockhead just so it met your teeth, and leading your lips away so the teasing burned through him. You pulled a hand away from his leg and sat back on your calves, taking a breast into it and kneading as he had before, plucking your nipple through each space between your fingers.

“A teasing little whore tonight,” he purred, voice thick.

You hummed, pleased you were getting to him. “I’m your little nurse, remember?” The tip of your tongue teased circles into his frenulum. “And you are my master. Isn’t that right? Master Ren?” Fuck, the title even got to you, cunt fluttering with the hope to be overflowing with him.

“Good girl, teasing whore, nasty slut? Little nurse? You have so many names now.”

“And all of them belong to you.”

You teased his tip and finally laved a flat tongue on the underside of his shaft, flicking it side to side and gripping into his structured, rippling thighs. Something animal, completely primal, roared in his throat, and sooner than you knew, Kylo Ren had joined you on your knees, the weight of his cock slicking down your middle and slapping up to your slit when inertia bounced through it.

A masterful tongue slipped into your mouth and licked your hard pallet, next dropping down and pushing against the side of your own tongue. A muffled moan – one that you were unsure was his or yours or both – clouded through the shower’s downfall. But then a throat-thick huff, aggressive and impatient, gnarled through the air and you were spun on your knees so your back was flush with his chest.

“Yes,” he rumbled, “they do all belong to me.” A possessive hand pushed you into him with might, taking residence in the valley of your breasts. “Your names, your body. Everything.” His hips canted, and the tip of his cock knocked against your clit, fire billowing in your belly, quicker and deeper now.

“Everything,” you echoed, finding his free hand and guiding it so it lay over the permanence etched into your thigh. “I’m- everything. It’s yours. I am yours.”

Unrelenting digits bruised more marks around the one he’d made prior, and when you felt his cock fall in line with your entrance, you thrust into him as he did the same, and you took all of him, at once, in one, fluid, aching motion. An unabashed cry echoed euphoria throughout the moonlit stall. Before you could fully recover from the first thrust, his hand – the free hand that didn’t remain under your own, clutched to your thigh – dipped into your folds and that blooming fire from earlier mushroomed at the graze of his thick digits against the buzzing nerves.

Thrust after thrust after thrust, fucking into you and filling you to the brim and then some each time, knocking the air from your lungs and burgeoning those sweet spots within with each paced, violent pass. All of that pressure combined with the winding circles and strokes he racked your clit with, you felt the breath of climax rise first in your chest, and then upward into your throat.

Kylo was panting by your ear, sucking the skin behind, clutching you to him so it became uncertain where his body ended and yours began. You hooked your arm above your head and clutched at his drenched tresses, flailing for a better grip and settling on clasping your hand onto the back of his neck.

“I feel you,” he groaned.

“Feel me,” you huffed.

“I know you.”

“know me.”

“You’re mine,” your name was laden with yearning claim, lilting from his tongue so it caressed your mind, body, and soul all in one fell swoop.

“Yours,” you heaved, “all, yours.”

You came. Simple. Body swimming in the schemes his fingers and cock and tongue and voice forced into you until it became too much. A few thrusts more and his pace faltered, cum spurting against your walls and dripping out of you as more and more left him. Full lips pressed fleeting, lulling praise into your nape, your shoulder, until he angled your head to his and branded his lips to yours.

Spent, emotionally and physically, you fell into him and enjoyed the image of his legs framing your own. But then your eyes lolled shut and you simply breathed, settling into this moment as best you could, and tried to memorize the tide of his chest slicking against your back.

Barely aware in the vague, misty stall, you only realized that Kylo had begun cleaning you when he guided you back to your feet to rinse you free of soap. Even then you just leaned into his chest and let the jets spray silken streams down your skin. And then you were wrapped in a heated towel and cradled in his arms, leaving the steamy refresher and coming into the gentle atmosphere within the golden gossamer canopy.

With less than a word, maybe a breath, the light from above waned to nothingness, and the room was black save for the glinting eyes that studied your own. The towel discarded to the floor, you now lay beneath the thick comforter and linen sheets of Kylo Ren’s bed. Both naked, you huddled together in the center of the expansive mattress, legs wrapped together in an impossible knot, each breathing in the other’s warmth.

Ease trickled into your muscles, and you shifted so your forehead could rest in the heat of his chest.

“What changed? From the other night?” you yawned. “What convinced you? About Snoke.”

He was tired, too, you knew, the hand tucking you into him tracing lazy, distracting circles into your back to keep him from sleep. “Perspective, really. Seeing things clearly for the first time in… Seeing things clearly.”

For now, fatigue caressing you, that was an answer you could accept. He’d given you more of his mind tonight than ever before, and you did not care to mar that fact with a half-wit interrogation. Perhaps you would listen to him this time, given how little you potentially had left, and do as he’d said this morning.

Trust me first.

It was sound advice, and not worth questioning on the eve of your first shift on Canto Bight. So you nuzzled into him and giggled when the tip of your nose nudged that black healing ribbon over his collar bone.

“I like your scars,” you hummed.

You could not be certain, sleep plunging you into its riptide, but just before it pulled you under, you swore you heard the fatigued rumble of Kylo Ren’s voice whisper, “I like yours too.”

#keeping your promise #st kyp #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren smut #angst #fluff #ao3 #wattpad

43 notes · View notes

ignitification · 4 years ago

Note

I honestly feel so bad for all the UA kids,like the amount of trauma they have,the scars Both physically and mentally.Like Mina and Kirishima literally saw the dead body of their Teacher.No kid should have to see that.like while I'm glad everyone else is alright, I'm scared for Tamaki,like I feel like he's either dead or incredibly wounded,the last time we saw him was he was defending himself along with Fat Gum,from falling Debris.like imagine if he died,Like I don't even wanna know Mirio and Nejire's reactions.

Hero society sucks ass,like the moment things get hard with actual villians,the heroes dip.like goes to show,all they care about is Fame and money and not actually saving lives.Stain was right.But That "I am not here"sign on all might angered me.Like That man saved multiple people and lives and used every bit of power and strength to stop Afo,and this is the thanks he gets?SMH

Also Deku is most definitely not gonna be the same.Like he's definitely gonna have a big personality change bigtime.

Also do you think,like NightEye,Gran Torino will slowly die?like he's a old man,who get his leg crushed like a soda can and Straight up smashed onto the ground, and with a hole punched through his chest,while he was bleeding out.like I feel like it's nearly time for him to pass on.

So Deku has Ofa, Blackwhip,Float,and Danger sense,and he still has three other quirks to unlock.

Do you think or want deku to loose his arms or do you think Eri will heal them,since after a couple months,she has the power?

Do you think we'll get like a couple month or a year TimeSkip soon?

I think that UA kids deserve a break - a very long and boring one, therapy and just basking in each others’ comfort for a while. No person ever should see a dead body unless they choose to.

As for Tamaki, I am pretty sure that he and FG are just MIA at the moment, because if they were not I think we would have seen FG’s pictures with the other dead heroes. Plus, both have incredibly useful quirks when it comes to situations like that, and I hope that Horikoshi will take the road of them being in a coma, if they are at the hospital at all. Otherwise it would not make sense for Horikoshi to not show them (but the same argument can be made for Denki, who is also absent from the last chapters). I do not particularly care for neither Nejire and Mirio (I just do not see any appeal in their characters), but I reckon that it would deal a very hard blow on them - and I do not want any kid dying (even though I do think it might be slightly unrealistic in the future, because at Jaku there were loads of heroes, but as some died and a lot retired, I think a lot of the burden will fall on the students who will choose to fight against AfO - a bit like what happened at Hogwarts between Voldemort and Harry).

I think that the ‘I am not here’ sign is not an insult to AM, in a way that citizens are blaming him because he retired - but it is more like the fact that now citizens cannot be feeling secure in their own houses anymore. This is a jab at still active heroes, at heroes who retired and in general to all of those who believed in the society and relied entirely on AM to feel safe. It perfectly describes how society is slowly falling down the rabbit’s hole - and there is no one to stop the fall. So it’s a praise at AM, who showed to be able to be relied on, and he was the Symbol of Peace for a reason (and the fact that his role remained vacant to a degree where the villains took the lead instead). It is not a ‘Why aren’t you here?’ message, but a ‘I wish you were here’.

Gran Torino is nowhere near dying, believe me. The man held out through Nana and Toshinori, he will definitely hold out at least until the last battle, or until AfO does not get defeated (or near that point in time, however). And since I think that might take a while, I would for now say that Gran Torino will outlive us all, like the genuine badass that he is.

Talking about defeating AfO, and the big trouble which is brewing in the meantime by AfO’s plans, as I said it will take time. But I am not sure whether this will be months or like around the lines of a year. The fact is this arc (Endeavour’s Redemption, Hospital Recovery and literally society taking a big blow which needs to be stabilised day by day) will be for a while. What I mean, is that we will not likely get a time skip before this arc ends (and it might take a while too, because we just started exploring Enji and Touya’s past, which I am sure will be further incriminated by Shouto, Rei, Natsuo and Fuyumi’s memories). After that however, I think it depends on Deku. We know that he is in a coma, currently stable but not showing signs of waking up. This could mean two things: Deku stays in coma during this arc (which means we are getting a time skip) or that Deku wakes up, and has terrible wounds and traumas (we means that the current arc will be longer, and we going to get or frames of his rehabilitation, or we are going to get a smaller time skip - as in a few weeks, or three months at best). I say this because, as the protagonist, and the one who will have a very important role in the climax of the story, it would be likely unrealistic for Horikoshi to leave him out: so it literally depends on how Hori will deal with Izuku’s situation. But I do believe that the second option is more plausible (as Deku will need time to train even further, to be able to withstand AfO’s power - and which also does not mean that the story will be in a stall. Far from that, we will likely get to see the Todoroki’s way more, Bakugo getting therapy and what not, maybe even Hisashi coming back (or the reveal of his identity) plus the whole Kurogiri real’s identity, Mr.Compress lineage and the truth of Machia). And finally, I do believe that Deku incurred in a major damage type of situation, but I hope that one of the quirks that he will discover during this arc have to do with damage absorption (similar to FG’s quirk) and that, since Izuku’s quirks are way more powerful than in their original time it might help him with the times to come. I am not sure however it will be about his arms , but more about his body as a whole (because the broken bones are one thing, but the fact that he strained himself so far, is concerning and will 100% bear its fruits in terms of mobility for Deku. To be honest, it would be interesting to see that Izuku lost partial functionality to one of his limbs, or that much like AfO he had to be rebuild in some parts).

This is my take on this things, but as being future assumptions I am just putting it out there. There are some of these things which I would not like to see, but oh well, the only thing we can do is to sit, wait and let it come.

19 notes · View notes

startledstars · 3 years ago

Note

Well when I sent the message I was thinking about Cain killing his brother, the gangr*pe in Judges, the girls who got their dad drunk and r*ped him, and the guy who r*ped his sister. You make good points though. I'm not familiar with Naruto but I like horror and I don't think they all glorify violence. In fact, in the media I like, the bad guys usually get punished in the end, showing that violence isn't worth it.

Hello again!

I’m pleasantly surprised at how well you know the Old Testament. Whatever opinions you have on the matter, there is some apparent effort to base them on research. This is a good thing. I encourage you look into the New Testament as well if you haven’t already.

Please note that along with the violence in both the Old and New testaments, there are promises of God’s love, mercy, and redemption. I haven’t found evidence of similar assurances in Hindu texts, Buddhism, the New Age, Islam, or even any of the ancient pagan religions (those who worshipped Zeus, Isis, etc.) There is some wisdom in these belief systems, but the love and security those gods offer comes no where close to what God and Jesus provides.

While you can find examples violence committed by God(s) and mortals in any religion, the God of the Bible offers unique promises.

Here are a few of my favorites from the Old Testament:

Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. (Deuteronomy 31:6)

The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee. (Jeremiah 31:3)

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. (Isaiah 40:31)

Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. (Psalm 91: 9-10)

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. (Psalm 23: 6)

People are complex, and God is infinitely more multi-dimensional. I hope you can approach the Word with this in mind; the violence does not negate the love, but God’s love is not mutually exclusive with His judgement.

Now, onto the issue of media that you mentioned. There is the “not all movies are bad” argument, and the “there is some good in even the worst things” mindset. As an avid consumer of such content the past, I can empathize.

Three points:

1. Even if not all movies glorify violence and sin, most of them do. Especially the popular ones. John Wick has you cheering for a violent murderer who takes revenge into his own hands. In reality, if you leave vengeance to God, you will be blessed in due time (I speak from experience.) Pirates of the Caribbean makes you admire a thief and liar. There’s a running joke about Jack Sparrow sleeping with… everyone and facing very few real consequences. Anyone who lives like that will contract and spread disease, then die. (The wages of sin is death, Romans 6:23.) Instead of laughing at this type of behavior, we should be disgusted by it. On top of that, the Pirates movies glorify and normalize alcoholism. Tony Stark glorifies alcoholism as well.

As for horror movies- they deserve their own post. Even those like the Conjuring series that appear to promote Christianity are flat out satanic. Consuming images of gore, demonic possession, and dismemberment is… it’s hard to defend. (I speak as someone who consumed almost every major horror thing that came out over the past few years. Outlast, the Evil Within, the Conjuring, Insidious, Haunting at Hill House/Bly Manor, Brand New Cherry Flavor, etc. It helped me understand evil, especially the spiritual kind, but it is not a profitable pass time. Everyone would be better off if they never consume a horror movie/ video game/show again. I haven’t been able to stomach these things since getting more serious about the Word, anyway.)

2. When you see violence or destructive behavior, you should fight, flee and/or stand up for truth and justice. Chronic consumption of Hollywood violence conditions you to sit and watch evil play out without doing anything about it.* There’s a reason this generation is more desensitized and demoralized than any other in human history.

(*edit: this is not my original observation. Brian Denlinger, King James Video Ministries on YouTube brought up this point, which helped convict me about the media I consume. He’s probably the only minister I can recommend in good conscience.)

It’s easy to see why the Word says, “The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.

But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!”

(Matthew 6: 22-23)

The evil we consume with our eyes affects our spiritual condition. Most media has a net negative impact on its viewers.

3. People make excuses for media that they would never make for the Bible. They hold God’s word to a standard of perfection (as they should) and look for any excuse to disregard it.

Those same people cling to to anime (which notoriously normalizes the sexualization of minors), movies (which are rife with misogyny, racism, and other dysfunction), video games, etc.

This is because they believe the Bible is oppressive (it is not. I have never felt more liberated in my life.) while their entertainment provides harmless joy and doesn’t hold them to any standard.

So I’ll leave you to consider one last thing: what is your motivation behind defending movies while being critical of the Bible? This is a rhetorical question, and I ask it with love and respect. Please bear in mind that I used to be on the opposite side of the issue. I once loved and defended the same things I can’t stomach today. Maybe you could also consider what would make someone change their mind so radically.

And once again, I encourage you to take your questions and doubts to Jesus. God bless you. Have a good night :)

#spiritual awakening #jesus #god #spirituality #truth #also saying this with love I enjoyed these questions #but I feel I’ve done everything I can in addressing these issues with you kind stranger #please feel free to dm me if there are other concerns #there are a few other asks I need to get to ASAP #I see your questions and thank you for your patience #I also really appreciate those who sent them #good night :)

3 notes · View notes

just-like-playing-tag · 4 years ago

Text

Isabella

Asked by Anonymous. Thank you very much for the ask!!!

Favorite thing about her: She's one of the greatest villains I've ever heard of! She fulfills her role as Emma's nemesis magnificently. I really like how she made her own choices, even if they were selfish ones. We cannot all be Emmas. It's in the human nature the instinct to survive, and I don't blame her for that. It makes it also kind of sweet how she wants to survive for Leslie too- kinda mirrors how, after believing he had died, Emma and Ray wanted to survive for Norman as well. Isabella is determined in being the one who survives in the end, and I think that makes her really cool.

Least favorite thing about her: Eh it has to be how she treated Ray. Now, hear me out:

you know there's this kid who knows that him and his siblings are being raised in a farm. He knows none of them will survive their 12th birthday. He has to see the siblings he obviously loved (because that's what kids do, they love their siblings, no matter how much Ray tried not to get attached) being shipped once every two months. He had to go through all of this, while acting like everything was fine.

And you think "oh yeah why don't we treat him like a fucking animal that's obviously the right thing to do". Just. Girl what's your problem??????? His life was a nightmare, why did you had to make it even worse??????? She called him "dog". She made him hate himself more then the already did. She made it so that he'd never forget that his byological mother hated him. Really,,,, why. Why didn't that boy deserved the "happy life" you promised to give every child you rised. Why did you chose to fuck him up more that he already was.

Even worse, the thing is,,,, I know the reason she did it. It's because she knew Ray was her son, and she didn't want to get attached in any way. It's because him himself was born out of the system that had tortured her in every way. Because that too was probably the manifestation of a deep self loathing for all she had done and she kept doing. But still- woman, you're an adult. And he was a freaking five years old. All you had to do is not to add more trauma.

Uhm also I didn't really like how her redemption arc was handled- but for completely different reasons than the rest of the fandom. What bothers me is how easily they forgave her. I think it's easy to understand her actions when, as the reader, you know plenty about her pov; but I don't think a bunch of kids would forgive her that soon. I don't think they would consider her mom their (but I'm getting to that later). Sometimes the fact that you were forced to do some horrible things doesn't change the fact that you've done them- at least to the eyes of your victims.

Especially Ray. I love him but I really don't think he wouldn't have forgiven her. He'd been upset and thorned of course, but I don't think he would cry over his mother's body– why would he, all of his life she had never been one to him.

Favorite line:

Ok maybe this:

I love this scene, it may be my favorite of hers? I already mentioned it in the past, but I really like how after having lost, she actually makes an effort to protect the children. Even though it's a small step, and even though it's too late, she finally does something to love them as she wanted to. It may be a stretch, but even if that's not how thiss scene is supposed to be read... I still find her resolution amazing. Look at her, so stern and unshakable, like she was made of stone. I love and admire people who take responsibilities into their hands, that's how I aim to be.

But I also really like this. Her tired face. Her admitting her defeat. I don't know, there's just something really beautiful in how this panel was composed.

And this is nice as well, isn't it? All of the above (and under) still stand, but I like how at some point she gave up, and genuinely wished the best for the children. "Lights" metaphors are extremely cliché, but that doesn't make the any less sweet.

brOTP: I really don't know where this came out from but I think in a modern AU Isabella and Yuugo would bond really well just. I don't know. Ruthless bitches with actually a soft heart squad.

Another squad I love:

OTP: Ok totally not in canon, but Isabella / Krone sounds so so nice, I really love them.

nOTP: Bah nothing really.

Random headcanon: Through all the years she has been a mama, she has never ever cried. She's really not one to shed tears.

She really likes reading. She has read all the books of the orphanage as well, even though it took her longer then Ray (she read most of them only after she became mama)

Unpopular opinion: Ok everyone is going to hate me for this but. She has never been a mother to the children. Never. She was kind and nurturing towards them, of course! But honestly it's my opinion that a mother would always chose death over hurting her children. And like, I don't blame her at all for not doing so?? It's totally fine if she chose her life over the ones of countless children; some people think about themselves first, and I respect them for that. The survival instinct instinct is part of all humans, and that's ok. But what I mean is, stop acting as she loved her children as much as a mother would, because she didn't? It's a big part of her character - and it's also part of what makes her an amazing villain. What she was aiming for has always been surviving herself - for Leslie and all that stuff. You can't take off such a big part of this from her. She was determined to do everything to do that, even the most ruthless, bottle of things. She hurt children- but not her children. Those children were never hers, because she never loved them as a mother would.

(I'm obviously talking about mother as a motherly figure, and not as mother by blod– I understand perfectly not all byological mothers would be willing to die for their children, but in that case I just don't consider them mothers to them.)

Song i associate with her: OK LOOK THERE'S THIS ONE LES MISÉRABLES SONG THAT IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT EVERY SINGLE WORD SOUNDS LIKE IT'S BEEN WRITTEN FOR ISABELLA PLEASE GIVE IT A LISTEN

I Dreamed a Dream (performed by Caissie Levy) - Les Misérables

(Yes she's talking about Leslie) (Yes it's "He slept a summer by my side" because that's how time flee for her and "He took my childhood in his stride" because her childhood died with him) (Yes I'm crying)

I dreamed a dream in time gone by

When hope was high

And life worth living

I dreamed that love would never die

I dreamed that God would be forgiving

[...]

But the tigers come at night,

With their voices soft as thunder,

As they tear your hope apart,

As they turn your dream to shame!

Also, Miss Honey's bridge in When I Grow Up - Matilda makes me think about a younger mama Isabella:

When I grow up

I will be brave enough to fight the creatures

That you have to fight beneath the bed

Each night to be a grown up

Favorite picture of her:

I like this... She makes it look like after decades of fake smiles, this is her first, true, heartfelt smile.

Sorry I'm very incisive tonight

And this!!!!!!!! The coldness, the power, the sheer determination!!!!!!!!!!!

Also love her unreadable face in this; she's so cool!!!!!!!!

Send me a character and I’ll list

#Thank you Anon for asking- and for your patience!#tpn isabella #tpn #the promised neverland #tpn manga spoilers #mine #My followers count after this: 📉#Oh well sorry I'm just really not one to keep my opinions for myself once prompted #It's ok to discuss this tho! I'm always open to new opinions / change my mind

28 notes · View notes

courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

Text

Hallow : ch XIII - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 8 / ?? - In which a true apology is given

*** ARCHIVE WARNINGS VERY MUCH APPLY FOR THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.

The Darkness was roiling mad, a furious mass of thorns that exploded in his rib cage and up through his spine. It ripped threw his head, his shoulders tightening as it dug in like a macabre torture device of old. He kept trying to explain, trying to make it understand his reasoning, but it only howled like a wolf outside the sheep pen -

YOU HAVE NO REASONING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU STUPID MAN!

She had to be well in order to fight long enough to survive for Nil; to not just hang herself while the Dagger melted silver down her clavicle.

DO YOU NOT REMEMBER OUR JOINING, OUR PACT? HOW TO ACT WITH FINESSE, TO BREAK SOMEONE WITHOUT EXERTING PRESSURE, OR HOW TO PUSH THEM OVER THE EDGE?

Calling for Alice and asking her to go to Emma's aid was a good thing strategically, and her actually appearing like some sort of fogged looking glass apparition he summoned was a blessing

YOU COULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY SIMPLE PLAN FOR YOU TO PUSH HER WHILE SHE WAS BREAKING!

The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame.

YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A BOY! AN IMBECILE!

It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing -

SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST HURT YOU.

He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death.

I WISH YOU WERE DEAD, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH.

They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come.

Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before.

Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure?

Killian shook his head in horror. Not that.

Oh yes, that. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time…

His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling.

"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief.

Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"

He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps?

“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"

"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled.

"Emma, I just need you to know -"

Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."

His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."

Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."

Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."

Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."

Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -"

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave.

"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.

"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."

"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."

"Farewell, Dark One."

He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma.

To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach.

Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness.

The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters.

He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth.

Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton.

Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma.

But they would never, never get through to Ursula -

Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian.

"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass.

"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -"

Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress.

"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"

Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze.

"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet.

What are you doing?!

Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally.

They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite -

The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing.

Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -"

"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken.

"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -"

Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.

Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention.

Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened.

Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean.

The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace -

"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."

Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning.

That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things.

Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually -

Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion.

"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it.

"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise.

"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships.

There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets.

A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck.

"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet.

"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."

Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning.

"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."

"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone.

"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."

Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."

They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory.

Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches.

The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies.

Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.

They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed.

The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle.

"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!"

More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily.

"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"

Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did.

"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed.

"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again.

Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away.

The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle -

"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her.

"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals.

"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."

"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - "

"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - "

"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand.

"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water.

"Fair enough." He whispered.

"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, truly apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather die than pick either of you."

"I am - "

"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."

Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.

Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by.

Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend.

Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease.

Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away.

"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path.

Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed.

"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation.

Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language.

The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin.

Tell him. Do it. End this.

Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left.

There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape.

No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS.

He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear.

She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and -

And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before -

“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.

Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton -

Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."

What!?

"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?"

Yes, say AGAIN? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END THIS.

The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain.

ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS END THIS, GIVE HER UP

"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily.

"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."

You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You must get the shard -

"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."

You will suffer for this.

"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian.

"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone.

Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse.

What are you doing, what ARE YOU DOING?

"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike.

There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea.

You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy.

"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."

You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for.

"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."

The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness.

He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time.

The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness.

But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face.

There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly.

He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.

They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze.

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -"

"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.”

"You still… Even if… If you had been hurt, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "Why would you, you absolute…"

Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - "

Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."

"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "

"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan."

"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan."

Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details.

"What happened to Nil's armada?"

"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"

"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."

"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'.

Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders.

Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum.

He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets.

"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle.

He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine."

He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're truly a terrible liar."

"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead."

"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly.

Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug.

"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily.

"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island.

Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?"

Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."

"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."

"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."

He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?"

Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals.

"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."

Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."

He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately.

Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck.

"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."

"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"

"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"

"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"

"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth.

"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful.

"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."

"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma.

Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours.

She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing.

"Emma? Are you alright?"

"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "

The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror.

Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair.

She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand.

"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light.

Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder.

Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice.

"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut.

A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back.

This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat.

"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade.

Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue.

Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat.

His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad.

Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees.

"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."

The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk.

"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps.

She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch.

Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."

Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"

Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?"

And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision -

Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change.

It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.

Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed.

Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with.

Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently.

Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home.

19 notes · View notes