#i also want dew to run full force i to his chest and let out the scream he's been hokding back because aeon wouldn't stop asking

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Can't stop thinking about Dewther reunion moments both good and horny

[riahlynn101]

"What Awaits Him" (1).

Summary: (Spoilers for chapters 416-417 of the manga!!) It's in Izuku's nature to reach out no matter the cost. The fact that the person he wants so desperately to reach out to has caused so much death and destruction is irrelevant in Izuku's eyes.

Once again, spoilers for the most recent chapters of the manga! The first half is a retelling of chapter 417, so somethings might be out of order or dialogue might be wrong/missing. I also wrote this before the leaks for chapter 418 came out, so no spoilers for that.

Trigger warnings: if you're familiar with the manga/anime this won't be a surprise, but animal death (RIP Mon), blood, child death, and child neglect/abuse.

Chapter One:

--

The world trembles, Izuku’s body aches, and his chance of saving Shigaraki narrows to one good punch. 

He pulls his arm back. One for All consolidates into his arm down into his fist. The familiar energy thrums like electricity waiting to explode at just the right moment. His predecessors look on, some with a faint sense of horror brought on by flashbacks of their first death, or maybe even the deaths of their comrades. Others with that same unyielding, undying sense of determination that only comes from wanting this all to end. For the future to be better.

Izuku’s fist collides with Shigaraki’s chest, One for All bursts like a supernova. 

His body aches. His lungs burn. And his fist continues forward, like there’s nothing there to stop it. No body. No skin, or blood, or muscle, or bone. Nothing. 

For a second, he feels like he’s flying. Not at all like Nana’s quirk. Less of a weightless, free feeling, and more like he’s tumbling down a very large, very long staircase. 

The air whistles through his dust and blood coated hair, as Izuku is forced forward and more forward still. It doesn’t escape his notice how the darkness of nothingness turns back into something. An upper class-looking suburbia (if the nice house in front of him is anything to go by). 

And then, he lands. Gravity comes back full force. The something fills his vision, making it all he can see and feel. The air tastes less bitter now, and his body aches a little less. 

Izuku stares at the ground for a moment, uncomprehending. The dew coated grass coats his uniform slacks, and when he picks himself up, the knees are stained a dirty green. He steps off the grass and into what looks like a road. 

“Izuku!” Nana shouts. Her voice is enough to startle him out of his shock-induced trance. He looks over his shoulder.

Honk! Honk!

Just in time to see a truck barreling towards him. It’s only because of his training that he’s able to throw himself out of the way in time. 

“Sorry, Izuku,” Nana murmurs. She floats behind him. Her anxious energy is almost contagious. “Shigaraki rebuffed me when I tried to transfer. This is his vestige realm, which means you are able to interact with the world around you. So, you have to be careful.”

Izuku doesn’t have time to respond. He’s here against the will of Shigaraki, and every second he remains within his subconscious, is another second that can be used as ammo for Shigaraki’s hatred. He runs to the house in front of him, hand extended to ring the doorbell. 

This house must be the one Shigaraki lived in before something happened and All for One got to him. The one that he still hates so much that he wants to destroy it again and again even over a decade later. 

“What are you planning on doing?” A voice asks from behind him. Out of curiosity, he glances back. A shadowy version of himself greets him. Glowing white eyes glare at him. “Do you honestly think seeing the past will change anything?” The voice echoes, like it’s speaking in a large, empty room. But even still, Izuku instantly recognizes Shigaraki’s voice. 

“I don’t know,” he answers, clutching the straps of his backpack. “But I have to try! Letting this end without finding out wouldn’t sit right with me!”

“How about you die instead,” The shadowy figure says.

“Sorry for the intrusion.”

In between one blink of his eyes and the next, the shadowy figure disappears. Izuku sighs, turning back towards the house. Only to come face-to-face with Stain (of all people). He’s thrown to the ground, and two swords are held to his neck, digging into the flesh of his shoulder. “What do you want to do? What are you planning?” Fake-Stain asks. The manic gleam in his eyes is wild and child-like. He almost looks like-

Izuku pushes Stain off him, and surprisingly it works. The man stumbles back. His nose lengthens into a different person. One that he doesn’t recognize, so these must be people that Shigaraki knows then. 

This one has a long nose and a receding hairline. Izuku tries to brush past him, but he grabs at his arms. “Do you think you can change anything?”

Izuku doesn’t dignify that with a response. Mostly because he isn’t sure what the right one is. What if Shigaraki’s right and everything stays the same? 

No! He can’t think like that. 

He finally wrenches his wrist free of the person’s grasp. 

The man’s face morphs into one of the few people that Izuku can full-heartedly say he dislikes with a passion . Overhaul. 

“Stop! What are you planning?” 

Izuku evades his hands, not even stopping to look at the man. “I don’t know!” He shouts angrily. For a brief moment, all he can think about is what he did to Eri. That poor, sweet little girl that only recently learned how to smile again. 

Fake-overhaul must disappear too, because nothing else is said. 

“We need to destroy the source of Shigaraki’s misery,” Nana says. 

“Right!” Izuku throws the door open. His time is dwindling fast, so he hopes that Shigaraki’s vestige world versions of his family will forgive him for forgoing societal niceties. The door swings open to reveal an enlarged photo of what looks like Nana and her son. It’s held in two small hands. 

“Our grandma was a hero!” A small voice cheers. 

Another gasps, surprised but happy. 

He stumbles through the door, and right into the backyard of the Shimura residence. Nana floats behind him, ghostly and intangible as he’s always known her. 

The sight that greets them is nothing short of horrific. A man rears back, ready to hit a shadowy figure in the shape of a child. Nana suddenly becomes much more real, solid and heavy with an emotion that Izuku can’t place. 

The tiny figure cries out, and that’s all Izuku needs to push onwards. A barrier stops him from moving closer. He bangs on it with his fists, yelling with all his might. 

Someone needs my help. Is all Izuku can think, pushing and clawing at the barrier. 

A small dog barks at the man but it remains too small to do anything else. The shadowy figure (Shigaraki, Izuku realizes) braces for the incoming slap.

“That wasn’t your grandmother in the picture! That was a monster who abandoned her child!”

Behind him, Nana breaks down. He wants to comfort her, but the shadowy figure of a much younger Shigaraki has his full attention. Izuku presses his full weight against the barrier. Please, Shigaraki, he silently begs. Let me in. Let me save you. 

The man’s (Kotaro, if Izuku remembers correctly) hand starts to go forward, and they have no more time to waste. “Shimura! Now!”

Izuku uses all his borrowed strength to push against the barrier. While Nana pushes forward too. 

And it works. 

For a second, everything stops. 

The world narrows to the child in front of him and nothing else. Izuku dives forward, arms extended and ready to protect that child. His hand makes contact with the figure. Inky blackness melts away, revealing big gray eyes and wavy black hair. 

Izuku gasps, feeling the last of the familiar energy leave his body. Zapping somewhere far away that he cannot touch. The world shifts, and suddenly the scene changes again. 

“Y’know Mon, I just can’t take it!” 

Izuku's heart drops into the pit of his stomach. The tinier version of Shigaraki sniffles, hands clutching at the one living thing that actively wanted to comfort him in his time of need. The sight is normal, innocent even. It’s nice to see that someone sought to comfort him (even if it’s a dog). 

No, what worries Izuku is that the dog’s soft fur is quickly becoming gray and cracked, like old, broken cement. Its eyes glaze over, and its tongue - which pokes out of its mouth - also takes on the same gray, cracked look. 

Before he can even think to move, the dog (Mon, he corrects himself. It’s important to get names right. Everyone here was someone that Shigaraki loved) falls to bloody pieces. The child version of Shigaraki looks down, eyes filled with tears. A gasp of horror escapes him, and he scrambles away from the terrible sight. Chunks of bloodied fur and flesh stain the grass, his clothes, and hands. 

Izuku reaches out, ready to reassure Shigaraki that none of this is his fault. A girl - similar in looks to Nana and only slightly older than the trembling little boy off to Izuku’s left - walks over. She fidgets with her hands. 

“Tenko,” she says, voice sweet. “I’m sorry for lying earlier. When daddy found out-” Her eyes landed on what remains of their dog. She screams. Her summer dress puffing out a little from the motion of spinning around so fast. 

There is no time to think, though Izuku does mentally jot down Shigaraki’s birth name. Tenko claws at his sister, stumbling towards her. His big eyes begging for help. For care. For reassurance. The only sounds from his mouth are pained wheezes. 

Tiny hands grasp the back of the little girl’s (Tenko’s sister if context clues are anything to go on) dress. Instantly, just like Mon, decay starts to spread over her dress and everywhere else. 

“No!” Izuku shouts, breaking through his shock. But it’s too late, the little girl turns to dust. “Tenko!” He yells, trying to get the little boy’s attention. It’s not enough though. The memory continues to play uninterrupted. 

More family members wander out the sliding glass door, unaware of the sight awaiting them. A woman that shares a lot of Shigaraki’s characteristics among them (that must be his mom). 

Tenko’s sobbing now, nails digging into his skin. His lips seem to form the words ‘mommy’ before the woman, too, much like the other two, turns to dust. Her arms extend out, ready and willing to comfort her son even at the cost of her life. 

Izuku tries to wave the elderly couple away. “Leave! Hurry!” But they don’t seem to hear him. He waves his arms. “Go! Now! Get help!”

Tenko crawls over to them. One hand on his throat, clutching his windpipe, as if he can’t breathe. And the other reaches out for them. 

“Tenko?” The older woman asks, seconds before being reduced to dust. The man follows not long after, staring down at what remains of the older woman. 

Izuku hurries over. He starts to reach out. His fingers brush Tenko’s shirt collar. Just then, the man from earlier opens the sliding door.

His eyes take in the scene before him. In confusion or perhaps shock he steps closer.

Tenko finally manages to speak. “Dad- daddy! Help me!”

The man's eyes widened. “Tenko, what did you do!?” 

Tenko shakes his head. He gasps for air, but he removes his one hand from his neck in favor of reaching out for his father with both. 

“No, Tenko! Stay away!” 

But the crying, traumatized, little boy just wants to be held. So, he comes closer. Izuku moves to push the man out of the way. Maybe if he’s out of Tenko’s path of unintentional destruction, he’ll live. But the moment he tries to move closer, Izuku is knocked backwards. 

He lands on his butt, and when he looks down at his legs, Izuku is greeted with blue shorts and stubby, little legs. Shorts he hasn’t seen since….

The man, Nana’s son and Shigaraki’s father, falls to pieces as well. Tenko’s hands are pressed to his face. He’s smiling, but there’s no joy in that smile. Relief, maybe, but no joy. 

Once his father is gone, Tenko stumbles towards the house. Which, too, falls to his hands. Decay spreads across the lawn, and it takes Izuku a second too long to process what is happening. 

Izuku scrambles backwards. His back eventually hits something solid. A fence or a shed, he doesn’t know. His eyes are locked on the decay slowly but surely coming right for him. 

He shuts his eyes.

“So, I said that…” A woman’s voice says, passing him by. 

A breeze hits his face, but it’s not enough to offset the heat. Izuku opens his eyes. Instead of a backyard and a family home being reduced to rubble, he’s in the middle of a busy street. Everyone looks so much bigger than him. 

Tenko! I have to find Tenko!

Izuku turns. He has no idea where in the vestige world he is, but that won’t stop him from finding Tenko. 

He runs right into a figure about the same size as him, if not a little taller. “Tenko?” His voice is younger sounding, and only the immediate circumstances keep Izuku from freaking out. 

The boy looks at him, or more accurately, looks right through him . 

“I’m here to help you.”

Tenko opens and closes his mouth. “He-lp…?” He takes a tentative step forward. Hands, dirty with blood and grime, start to reach out for Izuku. A look of fear crosses the other boy’s face. He shakes his head, tucking his hands close to him. His lips form words but he says nothing. 

People continue to pass them by. Either not seeing them, or simply uncaring that there’s a young child that needs medical attention. 

Izuku holds a hand out. “It’s alright. I’m here to help you.”

“Nuh, uh,” Tenko finally manages to get out. “Huh…hur-t…”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” No one should have to worry about me . Especially now. Weak. Useless. Worthless. Deku . “Let’s get you off the street. I don’t know where we are, but maybe we could find a police station?”

Tenko shakes his head again, eyes wide, frightened. He mumbles to himself. 

“Please,” Izuku pleads. “We don’t even have to be close together. Just…” he breathes, “just let me help you.”

Tenko says nothing for a minute, but eventually he seems to come to some sort of an agreement with himself. He stumbles closer. 

But before Izuku can count it as a win, the scene changes again.

This time, he’s under a bridge. Piles of trash surround him. The warm air is made worse by the smell of rotting fish, urine, and stale beer. 

His eyes are instantly drawn to Tenko, who somehow looks even worse than the last memory. Blood still sticks to him like a second skin, but his skin has taken on a pale hue - despite Tenko being outside for (days? Weeks?) a long time. And the circles around his eyes have sunken in just a little. 

“Tenko!” Izuku shouts. “Tenko! I’m here!” He runs for the boy, arms extended. Decay be damned. There’s someone that needs reassurance. If he can’t spare parts of himself, then how can he call himself a hero?

Tenko stares blankly. Big eyes that were once gray but are now a blood red, are wide open, almost unseeing. 

Izuku doesn’t stop to think about the implications of this. There’s no time. Every second counts. He stops short in front of Tenko. 

Carefully, he kneels down. “Tenko…?” Tiny hands gently touch the other boy’s shoulders. The brief contact seems to rouse Tenko a little bit. 

“I-Izu-ku?” He winces from the force of saying something after so long. 

“Hey…hey, you don’t have to speak. I know it hurts.” Izuku reaches a hand out. “Let’s get you somewhere safe. I don’t know where we are…again….but if we can find a payphone then I can call an ambulance.” 

Tenko’s eyes are starting to fill with tears. A hand - tiny just like his own - reaches out. Their fingers brush-

Suddenly, Izuku’s world is turned horizontally. He cries out. “What? Put me down!” He yells, wriggling.

“Thank you, Shimura-kun,” a painfully familiar voice says. “But I’ll take over now.”

“All for One,” Izuku growls, trying and failing to claw at the man.

A pleased hum is all the answer that Izuku receives. The world starts to shift again, but between the something of Tenko’s vestige world and the nothingness of whatever awaits him, Izuku locks eyes with the one person he wanted to save above all else. But those eyes stare back, a burning fury like the pits of hell. 

“I’m sorry,” Izuku murmurs, eyes filling with tears.

Useless. 

Worthless. 

Deku.

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

[plush-rabbit]

A Ruined Otaku

Warnings: Dom, Degradation (light), Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: i wanna make Levi cry (also just one oro for him!! I forgot to add the second:(()

-

Leviathan is many things. The third born. The Avatar of Envy. An angel turned demon. A Grand Admiral. He can summon an old creature, scales embedded with everything lost to the sea and kill with a simple squeeze of his hand. He’s something old and powerful, a minimalist body to hold the power and horror that resides. Leviathan, is an old demon, scales and teeth, thirsty for blood and poisonous to the mind, and yet, with all the power and title that he carries, he still lays beneath you, legs spread and cock oozing with semen, a gag shoved in his mouth- a simple makeshift of your underwear that was stained with arousal- soaked with his own drool as tears form in his eyes like dew that forms under the bright moon of Devildom. His hands are clawed into the cheap fabric of the small bed- a futon, if he was to be more specific- the fabric ripped and stuffing fluffing out of the sheet. 

“You’re drooling,” you muse, the heels of your shoes clicking against the tile of his room. “You know how expensive those were, right?” He can only nod his head, feeling a thick sliver of drool slip down his chin. “Here I am, wasting money on you, getting all dolled up, and there you go. Drooling over my underwear like some fucking creep.” Your voice raises into a lilt at the end, a cruel smile stretching against your lips, your eyes narrowing as the fat of your cheeks push upwards. “Who’s going to get me a new outfit? Hm? Are you?” He remains silent, sniffling through the fabric, cock jerking, the spiraled head dotted with pearly white semen that drips down onto the bottom of his stomach, the scales that adorn him are coated in a slimy substance, glistening and heavy, lubricated due to his nature, aching and ready to be put to use. He can only nod his head at your question, he doesn’t do more than that, nodding until his purple hair is ruffled. You’re not stronger than him- you could never beat him in an actual fight, but he is at your mercy right now and with a slight work of spell, he can feel the pressure of your nails against his tight. “Answer me, Levi.” 

His words are muffled against the cloth. He’s heard you say his name plenty of times, but each and every time, it still stirs something within him. “Yes,” he says, the word muffled, a harsh “sh” sound at the end of the word and he wants you to pierce his skin; he’d give you his strength just to feel blood prick at his skin, to feel you have all the power and to put him at your mercy. He thinks with a bit more practice, you should be able to leave him bruises in the shape of your hands. He salivates at the thought of feeling an actual sensation coming from you and not from some type of toy.

His stomach aches, his erection almost painful, skin tingling and running over his body with pricks. He can’t seem to find his breath. He tries to peer at you, so desperate to call you by name and ask you to touch him just once more, to give pity to him. 

“And how are you going to do that? You waste every single grimm that you earn on figures and anything else you can get your hands on.” His legs are spread and he can feel your knee against the inside of his thigh. “So reckless and horrible. You’re a pathetic excuse for a demon.” His chest aches and his hands tighten around the sheets. “Worrying about standing in line, having me do all your dirty work just so you can jerk off to plastic.” He moans against the fabric when your hand wraps around his cock; you don’t cover him entirely but it’s more than enough for him to at least derive some pleasure. “Is that what gets you off? Fisting your cock over plastic, thinking about how the new waifu-” he can hear the distaste in your voice and he’s pleading in his mind for you to just hurry and jerk him off- “would bend over and ask you to fuck them.” Your laugh is harsh, piercing into his fragile self-esteem and he’s whining, a high-pitched and pathetic noise that makes you glower at him. “What do you think of when you jerk off over plastic?”

He refuses to answer. He’s a yucky otaku, something gross and perverted, a title given to him only because he had fallen along with his brothers. He is powerful but weak, cracking under pressure and having to beg for things. It’s already mortifying enough that you know of his perverted secret, humiliating, knowing that you’re using it against him in such a private and intimate moment. But he couldn’t help himself- he couldn’t ask you to help him, he was too nervous, shaking at the thought of telling you that he was aroused and none of the videos or hentai were doing it for him. It was his fault- he’s the one that bought the scantily clad figure, an ahegao expression printed onto it that was soon painted white.

The bed creaks, the metal groaning under the weight of both of you, the front of the bed knocking against the wall and his face burns. He knows that whatever happens will be echoed through the house, that he’ll be forced to endure even more teasing and having to go back to you and beg for you to take care of him. 

Your hands dance on his abdomen, fluttering hands that graze his sides and rest where a rib cage would be, curving over his breasts and the heel of your palm nudges against his pebbled nipples. He is still, breath hitched in his throat and eyes fluttering to a close. It’s the softest touch he’ll get from you right now, something so comforting that it sends the muscle in his chest beating harsh against the skin of his body. He wants something harsher, he wants to feel you grip on him and never let go, to be gasping for breath simply because you gave him what he wanted. He’d lie on the ground and bleed for you, choke against his own blood, grovel at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on if it meant that you would touch him in the way he wanted to be touched.

Your hands are curved against his chest, the pads of your fingertips pressed into him and he stares at amazement above you. His cock, a spiraled tip with bumps and ridges, the shaft is a soft curve is a heavy, dark color. It’s hard, the scales that etch onto him below the head are rigid and bumped, the arousal and state of mind that he is in makes him lose focus. He’s spilling, drenched in his own arousal. You sit bare on his thighs. He can smell your sex, aroused and leaking. He’d give up an entire season of anime if it meant he could see how pretty your cunt looked. 

“You’re a filthy, fucking whore, Levi.” With every inch that you sink onto his cock, he screams against your underwear. “A quick and easy fuck.” You’re so warm and soft, the puffiness of your walls enveloping in a sweet hug. “You should be lucky that even a human would want to touch you.” You spit the words out and his sobs against the cloth, jaw twitching and tear tearing through the fabric. Your hands grip at his face, turning him towards you and he looks at you with heavy eyes filled with tears. “Tell me your perverted fantasies, Leviathan.” The fabric spills from his mouth, dragging across his skin, leaving his lower half of the face in a thin layer of his own drool. You sneer at him and yank your hand away from his face, shaking it beside you as if to flick off any of his own secretion. 

Where could he even start? He’s breathless, shaking in his position, trembling bones as he raises his arms and covers his face with clammy hands. He can feel your gaze on him, his face burning and chest heaving with every intake of air, pressing his heels into his face. His body reacts, knees bending, trying to curl up in a ball, meeting your ack instead and he can hear the soft puff of air. 

He peeks between slender fingers, staring up at you and he can only lay and watch as you tilt your head. You raise your brows at him expectantly, and there’s a falling pit in his stomach. “I-” his voice cracks and his neck burns- “I think of you,” he says in a rushed voice. “I think of how good your mouth feels, how you always leave me pleased and completely drained.” He yelps when fingers twist at his nipple, the skin blooming in red and back arching, hands leaving his face to grasp at the bed. “I- I think of you- It’s always you. How you let such a poor excuse of a demon touch you.” His voice is steadily growing louder, choking through the words and staring up at you. “I’m gross and I’m touching you, a filthy, yucky otaku-” with each word his voice grows louder until it’s booming against the walls, the glass of his aquarium shaking, making the poor fish swim around anxiously- “who thinks of fucking you when I jerk off.” 

He’s pitiful. Messy, purple hair that sticks to his forehead with sweat, orange eyes tinted with blue shine under tears that have yet to be shed, few tear streaks wet at his face, falling down to the pillow under him, the dark gray pillowcase darkens under him. Your hand cradles his face and for the first time in the night, his chest feels light, he can breathe, staring at your parted lips and wanting to kiss them. He purses his lips and jerks his head towards your, eyes closing slowly- just one kiss, something so simple and innocent that he wants. 

He’s pulled back with a soft click of your tongue, your head shaking in a denial that you give him. “Tsk, tsk.” Your hand is still gentle and it’s intoxicating to have you touch him. His cock warms your insides, pulsing and aching, his entire control kept in check in order to not disobey and let himself ravage your weaker body. There’s a horrible thought in his head as you lay limp in his arms as he pushes inside your body, kissing at your wet lips and meeting the dazed look in your eyes. “Only good boys get to kiss me.” Your lips are so close to his and your free hand rests on the curve of his breast. “Are you a good boy, Levi?” The tip of your nose grazes at his and he’s never been so weak in his entire life, never so full of want and hunger to force himself to move so he can kiss your lips. 

“No,” he breathes out. His tongue peeks out, the soft, pink tip lapping at his lips. “I’m horrible.” He thinks he’d kill for just a simple kiss. “Make me a good boy, please.” He calls your name, he dares to utter the breath of his love in such a hopeless voice, wanting to reach above with curling hands. 

He gasps when your lips are pressed against his- slipping past, slick with something sour, tongue slipping past and entering his mouth. If it were any other day, he’d slip his tongue in your mouth and have you choke, but for now, he remains unable to, completely at your will. He’s certain now- he really would kill for just a simple kiss from you.

It’s shameful and he won’t live it down for the next odd years, but the kiss is enough to send him over the edge. He keeps his lips pressed to yours, bruising almost as he pushes himself against you, cock twitching and a soft rut of his hips as he spills his seed inside of you. It’s a thick, heavy flow, filling you and his hands are moving, flat against your back and curing against the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. His mouth opens and he whines, salivating as you let out a stifled moan. Filthy and wet, his slick sliding out of you, coating his cock with semen, the scales that line around him are lost under him. 

He’s delirious, humping you, his face dazed and eyes rolled to the back of his head, a heavy blush across his face as you let him do all the work. While endurance was never his strongest suit, he absolutely loses himself over you, his thrusts becoming sloppier- a lewd, wet shucking sound fills the room, your breasts bouncing and it’s humiliating at how riled he becomes. He pants like a bitch in heat, and he can hear just how pathetic he sounds, croaking and gasping for breath. 

You’re slick, your walls molded around him, the soft walls that envelop him in a warm hug, make him twitch. He’s whining, chest vibrating against yours, his stiff nipples pressed against your soft chest. Every pull of your body makes him murmur a slurred version of your name, mind hazy as he continues to rut inside of you, feeling the burning heat in his lower stomach return, aching and tightening, having him kick out his legs as his body starts to grow rigid and antsy. 

“Such a whore, Levi.” Your lips brush against the shell of his ear, lowering yourself on his cock, the base of it stretching your wet sex. The curve of his cock pushes against a spot, eliciting a strangled moan from you. You clench tighter around him, your plush walls squishing around him- silky and plush, against his cock. “Acting like you’ve never fucked a cunt before.” Your words low, lowering your head to kiss at his neck, wet spots that glisten against his skin.

“Not-” he’s interrupted by a moan, hands clawing against you, pressing you close to his flush body- “not as good as yours.” His hands release you and you immediately rise. Your smile is breathless and coy, chest rising and dropping as you stare down at him. Your eyes soften for just a moment, and his own hands come to pinch at his nipples, the soft tissue of his breast squished under his hands. He must look pitiful- a look akin to that of a hurt animal if your gaze on him is anything to go by. He knows how he must look. A flushed face tinted in a rosy red, eyes that shine with tears, lashes that catch the fallen drops and a tear-stained face, puffy, reddened lips that part with each gasp of air. He must look wretched. 

Your hand curves around his cheek and he leans into your touch. “How sweet-” your smile returns into a more stretched version, teeth hidden behind your lips- “my dear Leviathan.” He wonders if you can hear the way that his heart beats. His mouth parts and there’s a sick perversion where he wants you to spit on him, to treat him like the disgusting pervert that he truly is. “Are you close?” Your nails drag along his skin and he can only nod, eyes flickering to where your skin slaps against his. “You know that you’re only allowed to because of me, correct?” Your eyes glint with something that he cannot place. “No matter what anyone says,” your voice lowers and it’s erotic to him, something like a drug that he’s never taken and makes him all more weak to you, “you’re nothing more than a living toy.” He jerks inside of you and his stomach begins to ache. “A pretty, little demon that I get to fuck.” He so desperately wants to touch you. “You’re nothing more than a filthy, yucky otaku.” His nails pierce into the skin of his breasts, blood dotting along him. Your eyes dart to his chest before returning to his eyes, lowering until the tip of your nose brushes against his. “Don’t ruin yourself Levi, save that for me.” Your lips meet his and he does as he is told. 

His hands leave his chest and he pushes you onto him, spilling his seed into your cunt, feeling the way that your walls tighten and pulse, the heavy beating of your body and the heat that floods out. He’s moaning into you, muffled and drowning out your gasped version of his name that escapes your lips. 

His cock is wet as he lays beside you. He’s curled against your side, a softening cock that sticks against your thigh, body curved so his head rests on your chest. He lays above you, eyes wet as you pet his hair. “You had such a lovely look on you, Levi.” He can feel your lips kiss at the crown of his head. “It made you look so handsome.” He lets out a weak cry, nodding as tears slip past his closed eyes, nuzzling closer to your chest as your hand lowers to soothe against his back. You shush him gently as he begins to rut against your thigh.

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair 

Chapter 35: What Comes Next

Summary: The day after their reunion, Claire and Jamie begin to come to terms with what happened

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Read chp 35 on tumblr below the cut

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A/n: *Deep breath* Surprise! 🤗🤗 I’m back :))

More a/n: Hello.... it's me :) Remember these guys?

If you need a quick "previously on ATWF"... After discovering that Claire was cut off from her energy source on the human plane, Jamie sent her back through the stones and began to face life without her. Several weeks later, Claire miraculously appeared in his garden. By giving up her place among the fair folk, she had received an opal that connects her to the fair plane, allowing her to go back through the stones to the human realm and back to Jamie. And finally, there was the reunion and long awaited wedding night.

I've missed you all and I've missed writing these two precious bbs. Thank you so much for sticking around for these past two months!! Without further ado, let's begin with the intermediary chapters before arc III picks up!

Chapter 35: What Comes Next

***

Jamie Fraser’s wife was perfect. Laying beside him in bed, her features relaxed in sleep and bathed in the soft morning light, Jamie couldn’t take his eyes off of her. His gaze trailed down, taking in the softness of her bare skin covered only by the sheet. Skin like pearl. 

She was exquisite. The memories of the night before flooded his mind, and he couldn’t help but smile to himself. 

It took all his willpower not to reach out and touch her. Claire was a light sleeper, and his touch would certainly wake her. But after all she had been through, Jamie couldn’t possibly have disturbed her rest. He would simply wait and content himself with the image before him of his wife… his wife… safe in bed beside him. Perfect. Even the simple rhythm of her breaths was music to his ears.

The heartache of the last few weeks seemed so distant. As if he was invincible and nothing could touch him. That was all in the past, and nothing could shake his contentment at present. 

He would have happily stayed there and memorized every wrinkle and freckle and divot on her perfect face, but his bladder had other plans. Gingerly, Jamie slid himself out from under the sheet and off the bed before padding his way into the bathroom. He went about his business with the lazy contentment of someone who had all the time in the world. 

His heart felt so full. 

As he returned to the bedroom, he stretched out his arms, feeling his muscles ache with just the slightest amount of soreness. The gardening of the previous day felt like a lifetime ago. He sighed and let his eyelid close in a contented heavy blink. 

He had just rounded the corner into the bedroom when the serenity shattered around him like a balloon popping. 

The bed was entirely empty. 

His heart leapt to his throat and panic brought the blood rushing to his ears. 

Claire wouldn’t have left his bed. There was no way. She never rose before him, and especially after the separation, she would never have left without him. There was nothing for her to do in the house without him, no possible explanation....

His stomach lurched and bile rose in his throat. 

The grief that had felt so distant crashed down around his ears in an all too familiar wave. He found himself staring once again into the darkness, and it stole his breath. 

Staring at his bed, the sheets tangled only on one side and no imprint of Claire on the second pillow, the tears began. 

His head was shaking back and forth without conscious decision. 

Panic seemed to freeze his body and steal his mind. The only thought in his head was “gone. She’s gone.” 

He couldn’t survive being alone again. He’d barely survived sending her back, and to have lost her so soon after getting her back... he would simply lay down and die. 

His limbs wouldn’t move beyond the tremors that had started to travel through his muscles. He couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from the room, its emptiness heavy and apparent. The perfection of Claire’s light was gone, leaving the world in monotone greys and blacks once again. That brokenness in the pit of his stomach...

Alone. 

He whirled on his heel, his body suddenly bursting into action with the need to do something— anything to run from the debilitating chasm that lay in front of him— when he came face to face with a wide-eyed and startled Claire at the top of the steps. 

The air was punched out of him, and immediately he was in front of her and crushing her to his chest. He squeezed her to him with enough force that it was probably extremely uncomfortable for her, but he couldn’t seem to stop. His lungs were hitched in panicked breaths as his hand found the back of her head and he pushed it against his chest, holding her safe against him. 

She was there. Real and whole. In his arms. 

Claire was quite apparently startled. She had only just brought her hands up to hug him in return and was beginning to slide them up and down in back in confused reassurance. 

He buried his teary face in the top of her curls and let out a shaky exhale, trapping her even closer to him. 

“Jamie?” came her muffled voice from against his chest. 

He felt her body was tense with concern, and he had to force himself to calm the raging storm of emotion inside before he overwhelmed her. Her hands were flat on his back now, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was sensing his turmoil and worried out of her mind. 

“I came back to find you gone, and I…” 

“You thought you’d lost me again,” she whispered in understanding, sounding sympathetic without any judgement. 

They were both quiet for a second, and she melted against him, allowing him to hold her close. 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she breathed, “I just woke up and you weren’t there, so I went downstairs to look for you.” 

Jamie shook his head, his face brushing against her curls. “It wasna yer fault. I jes�� lost my mind for a minute,” he chuckled breathlessly. His fear betrayed him, causing his voice to tremor. 

Claire drew back, and his knee-jerk reaction was to tense in alarm. 

“Come here,” she said softly, taking his hand in hers. 

She led him back into the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed before joining him. Claire never once let go of his hand, and her thumb brushed across his knuckles as she looked into his eyes with a searching look. 

“You didn’t lose your mind,” she said, voice thick with understanding, “these last few weeks… they must have been torture for you.” 

She went quiet then, intentionally leaving space in the silence, and looked at him expectantly. 

“It was,” Jamie breathed in barely a whisper, dreading sending his mind back to that dark place. But he knew he needed to get it out, and she knew it too. “I... “ he couldn’t continue as his voice caught in his throat. He swallowed and tried to start again. “I was alive, but I wasna living. I didna want to go on.” 

She was trying to keep herself under control, but his words had sparked fear in her eyes. And rightly so. 

“I didna hurt myself...” Jamie tried to allay her worry, “but I wanted to. I wished I could end it all sometimes....” 

It was like he was standing in that darkness once again, facing down his loneliness with nothing more than the memory of her to keep him going. 

Her free hand moved to stroke up and down his bicep. Warm and comforting. He took a breath. 

“Losing you and continuin’ on… was the hardest thing I’d ever done…” Jamie said shakily, “and I dinna ken… when I came back to the room and ye werena there… it was like I was in that place all over again. I jes’...” 

“I understand,” she said gently. 

Her whisky eyes were soft and warm, inviting him into a place of safety. He felt himself crumble like some ancient wall, and his body slumped forward. 

She was ready for him, opening her arms and bringing him close. His face pressed against her chest and his arms came around her waist to hold on tightly. He felt her hands hold his head against her for a second before they began to card through his curls. 

He cried then, releasing the pent up emotion— the heartache of her loss, the fear of going through it again, and the overwhelming relief of her presence. He let it all out as his tears stained her dress. 

All the while, Claire was whispering to him and pressing intermittent kisses to the top of his head. 

“It’s alright,” she was breathing, “I’m here. We’re here. And I’m not going anywhere. Nothing could take me away from you now. Nothing.” 

He found himself squeezing her tighter as he relished her closeness. The scent of her— like roses under the morning dew— filled his senses. It soothed him in a way words never could because it was such a concrete reminder of the reality of her. 

Holding her close, he could dare to breathe. The wall he’d hastily rebuilt in those jarring few minutes where he had thought he’d lost her came down piece by piece. He listened to her heartbeat under his ear and focused on the feeling on her hands running through his hair with such gentleness. 

She was with him. She was safe. 

After a long while, when his tears dried in his eyes and the darkness had faded back into only memory where it had no power, he drew back. 

To his surprise, when he straightened up, he found Claire’s eyes to be red-rimmed and tears leaking down her cheeks. 

“Oh, mo nighean donn.” His heart broke into a million pieces, and this time, he was the one reaching out for her and pulling her against his embrace. 

“I’m alright,” she said, but her voice was choked, “I'm okay.” 

“You dinna have to be okay,” Jamie replied gently as he tightened his arms around her, “ye ken that?” 

She was quiet for a while, seeming like she wasn’t ready to argue with him but also didn’t agree. So, she would need a little prodding… 

“I wasna the only one who had tae face the world alone…” 

Claire shook her head where he had it pressed against him. “But I had something to hold on to, hope for going back. I was on a mission.” 

“That doesna mean ye werena sufferin’,” Jamie countered. 

He felt her resolve weakening. Her tears were wetting his shirt collar and her hands were clutching his sides, betraying the truth of her hardship that she was holding inside herself. 

“I was so scared,” she whispered after a long moment, “so scared that I wouldn’t be able to do it. That it would all be for nothing.” 

He let her speak, stroking his hand over her curls and trying to keep his breathing steady. 

“I thought sometimes… that I wouldn’t be strong enough. And that I would just lay down and never get up again and that would be better than spending another moment without you,” she finally said. 

“You did do it, mo ghraidh,” Jamie responded, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotion, “thank Christ, you did it and you made it back.” It was a wash of relief to say those words, and he hoped Claire felt the same. Or at least that she could feel his relief. 

She didn’t make a move, just quietly rested in his embrace. 

Jamie couldn’t help but speak aloud the guilt that was weighing down his heart. “Your people…” he whispered, his voice low and barely audible, “ye lost your place and your people too. That isna a small matter.” 

“No,” Claire whispered in agreement, and Jamie could feel her heartbreak in the tenseness of her body, “but I would make the same choice over and over again. I belong with you. I wanted to come back more than anything.” 

“Aye,” he had to stop himself as his tongue seem to tie itself together in his mouth, “I ken we’re meant to be together. And I’m so incredibly grateful that ye’re here. I jes’... I dinna want ye to ignore the pain jes’ because you believe it was the right decision.” 

She didn’t speak, but she nodded against his shoulder and her breath began to hitch in small sobs. 

“That’s it, lass,” he gently coaxed, “Let it out. It’s alright.” 

As she cried against him for all she’d lost— for good this time— Jamie allowed his own heart to break with hers. He wept for the pain she’d endured and the bravery she was showing. And he wept for himself too, and for those lost days of his life where he’d lived in despair. 

But in the midst of their weeping, there was a sense of comfort. Jamie no longer cried alone, but with the love of his life wrapped in his arms. 

Despite everything, they both had the promise that they would never be alone again. 

After a long while, after her crying had slowed, his wife looked up at him, drawing back enough to fix her eyes— still glistening with tears— on him. 

“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” she suddenly laughed, reaching up to wipe the moisture from Jamie's cheeks with both thumbs. 

“Aye.” 

He brought his own hands up to frame her face and went to work on clearing the tears tracks. 

And there they sat, clinging to each other as if they might slip away at any moment. But they were together. 

Alive, whole, safe, and together. 

Where the darkness had no place. 

***

A/n: I wanted to greet you guys with some gratuitous fluff after the heartwrenching end to the first arc, but I couldn’t move on before exploring the trauma of the separation. We walked with Jamie through an intense period of grief, and it wouldn’t be right to move on without more closure and dealing with the repercussions for them both. This is by no means the end of their coming to terms with what happened, but it is a promise that they’re moving forward together. So now… how does some fluff next chapter sound, eh?

As always, thank you so much for reading, and an extra thank you for your patience and for sticking around!

***

Next

[mandoalorian]

hiii could you do a drabble with Din?? I was thinking he doesn’t know you have anxiety yet and you’re having a panic attack and he doesn’t rlly know how to handle them?? I thought #16 would be perfect bc protector Din is like “I will fuck up whatever is making you feel like this” (surprise bucket head, it’s their own brain)

Melting Dew [Din Djarin x GN!Reader]

Prompt no.16 “Who hurt you?” — thank you for the request!

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attack, body dysmorphia, food mention, domestic!Din, Din and reader have pre-established relationship.

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2000>

Masterlist

Din wasn't meant to be back for at least two more hours. The farmers market was about a three mile walk away from where he'd parked the Razor Crest, and he'd taken Grogu with him this time, who was sure to preoccupy Din whilst you were unable to accompany him. You'd spent the past week beaming at the thought of returning to Naboo, and craving the delicious, juicy taste of their native sourberries. Last night, before you fell asleep in Din's arms, you excitedly told him how you were going to purchase enough sourberries to last the entirety of the upcoming bounty hunting season. Din jokingly rolled his eyes at your comment and pressed a chaste kiss into your forehead, always finding your love for the simpler things in life extremely endearing.

Din Djarin spent the majority of his life a lone warrior. But upon meeting you and rescuing Grogu, it seemed like that all changed— and quickly, too. Now he was providing for the little green bean he called 'son', and you, the most beautiful, interesting and equally important person he'd ever laid his eyes on. Your appearance was soft, delicate, and your features were doe-like. In a galaxy filled with hatred and war, you were the epitome of hope and innocence. How could he not love you? He admired your attitude and excitement for life, and he adored the way you cared for Grogu unconditionally, like he was your own child. You were unlike any other person he'd ever met before. You were as pure as melting dew.

So of course he was protective over you. You, Din and Grogu had scowered the most dangerous depths of the galaxy and you all had your fair share of abuse from Imps, crime syndicates and immoral scoundrels. But there were people out there who tried to hurt you. However, they could never even get close to drawing a knife to your neck. Din was always one step ahead. Messing with you was no game. He hadn't let a single one of them live.

You'd awoken early this morning, quietly slipping out of bed and padding over to your closet in search for an appropriate outfit for the day ahead. You picked out a white tunic and embroided belt, along with some brown boots; but strangely enough, none of it seemed to fit. This was your favourite outfit and you wore it on practically all your days off. You loved the flow of it, and the way it hugged all the curves and accents of your body. But today... something wasn't right. The stitched tunic was tight around your arms and boxy on your shoulders, and as you looked in the full length mirror, your heart sank in your chest. The boots made everything worse. The belt didn't hang on your body correctly. And hell, it wasn't even just the clothes. There was something wrong with your hair today too— and your skin had broken out— and the dark circles that graced your under eyes had become significantly more prominent. You felt completely and utterly disgusting. There was no other word to describe it.

You heard Grogu stir from the quarters and you knew it wouldn't be long until he and Din woke up. You felt so embarrassed. So ashamed. The Mandalorian was an esteemed bounty hunter, best in the Guild, and also your husband— but Kriff, if he seen you like this... he'd shove you off his ship and make the jump to hyperspace within seconds! Panic filled you and the palms of your hands became clammy. He couldn't see you like this. He couldn't.

Just as you anticipated, you heard Grogu's garbles, signifying that the child was now awake and ready for breakfast. Din groaned something incoherent and you glanced over to him as he shuffled amongst the blankets. Your mind was still racing. If he saw you like this, he would for sure leave you. You had to hide. But where?

You bolted to the other side of Din's quarters and into the Refresher, turning on the shower and discarding the clothes that had made you feel so monstrous on the floor. Din heard the screeching noise of the Refresher and thought it was strange you were showering so early. The water was always particularly cold on a morning, and you knew this. Nevertheless, he shrugged it off and headed over to grab some pots and pans. He was preparing bone broth for breakfast.

When you didn't join the duo, Din left a bowl of broth for you in the cockpit of his ship. After he finished washing the dishes, he knocked on the Refresher door. "Cyare, are you alright?" he called, his voice rife with concern.

"Y-yes, I'm okay." you lied through gritted teeth. You were sat on the cold tiled floor, a towel hugging your body as you shivered uncontrollably.

"I was going to leave now... for the farmer's market. The walk is quite far so I wanted to set off early. Are you still coming?" Din asked curiously, his gloved hand nervously tracing the details of the steel door.

"I think I'll skip today, but have fun with Grogu, and stay safe." You tried to sound as optimistic and normal as usual, but behind the closed door, a silent tear slipped down your cheek. There was a brief silence and you had considered maybe Din had already left. But then you heard his modulated voice again.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" He knew how much you'd looked forward to going to the farmers market. It was all you had been talking about for the past week. Sourberries.

"I'm fine!" you forced a smile, even though he couldn't see.

Din wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push you. If you said you were fine, so be it. He believed you. He had no reason not to trust you when you'd been nothing but honest to him since the very day you met him, all those moons ago.

Once you were sure he was gone, you pulled your pajamas back over your head, and climbed into bed. You felt safe, and free from any judgement. You were all alone. And that meant you could cry. So, you did. You sobbed for what felt like hours. You laid on your side and clutched the thin blanket tight to your chest, almost like you were hugging it for comfort. Your whimpers echoed against the interior of the Crest and this was the only time you had been thankful for Din and Grogu not being around.

Until you heard the entrance to the Crest shoot open, with that all too familiar whizzing noise. Dank Farrik— they were back early. They were back and you weren't even dressed. Your eyes were red and puffy, your hair was sticking up in places. You were, to put simply, a mess. But you felt like you were no less of a mess than what you were when you had worn the white tunic and embroided belt this morning whilst they were still asleep. You sunk under the covers of the bed and tried to hide from them. You prayed to the Maker that perhaps Grogu would help you out and use one of his magical force abilities to make you invisible. Then you'd never have to face the oncoming conversation with Din. The conversation that was inevitable.

"Cyar'ika?" Din asked, putting Grogu down on the floor and approaching you hesitantly. Thankfully, Grogu was more preoccupied with the little silver beskar ball he'd always play with. It came from one of the many levers on the Razor Crest. Din gently pulled away the blankets, revealing your tired glazed eyes and your tear stained cheeks. "Oh, my love. What... what happened?"

You didn't answer, feeling a swell of guilt erupt in your stomach. Din removed his helmet and placed it on the nightstand, and your heart jumped at the mere sight of your husband. His dark eyebrows were furrowed together in bewilderment and his honey colour eyes raked your body. "Who hurt you?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave. It was low and gravely; and you knew he was very serious. "Cyare... did something happen? Did someone-"

"No." you cut him off quickly.

No? Din's mind couldn't compute that answer. There was clearly something very wrong, and Din had to find out what exactly it was. Someone must've done something. You were fine yesterday. Had someone been on the ship while he and Grogu were out?

"Whoever or whatever it is— I can fix it. I will hunt them down cyare, you hear me? They won't know what hit them. I can-"

"Din stop," you pleaded with weak gasp, bringing your hands up to hide your face. You felt nothing but shame. "It's not... it's not like that. It's me."

Din's expression changed almost immediately. His face softened, his perfect plush lips parted slightly at your confession. He sat on the edge of the bed and took your hand. "What do you mean?" he quizzed quietly, although he had an inkling he already knew what you meant.

"I got up early this morning, excited to venture out to the farmers market with you and Grogu. Excited to go sourberry picking. But when I got dressed, it was like... something just hit me. I can't put it into words but I just felt so... so... ugly."

Once again, Din's brain simply could not compute your revelation. Ugly? You? How could you possibly feel that way. You shared the likeness of an angel. How could it be?

You swallowed and continued. "And then I got afraid. I got so scared that you'd see me the way I see me, and you wouldn't want to be with me anymore. That you'd run away from me and leave me behind." you shrugged helplessly. Now the tears were beginning to free fall.

"I could never, ever, think that of you, riduur. I love you so much. How could I possibly leave you? Without you, my life would end. It would be meaningless." Din revealed, his chocolate eyes glossy as he cupped your face with his large hand. His thumb traced the height of your cheekbone and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into his touch.

"Don't say things like that," you whispered, shaking your head. "You don't need me around... you already had everything under control before me."

"But nobody to make me smile. Nobody to make me laugh. Nobody to bring me joy... or show me the pleasure of how to love, and be loved in return." Din huffed, pressing his forehead against yours. "Next time you feel this way, please don't hide it from me. Whatever you're going through, we go through it together. Okay?"

You sniffed before finally nodding your head in affirmation. "Okay Din."

Din leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, the curve of his nose bumping into your cheek as he manouvered his body carefully over you. "So beautiful, and all mine." He purred lovingly before licking a stripe over your lower lip. You moaned wantonly and interwined your fingers in his curly brown locks of hair.

It was moments like this that you cherished forever. The sweet touches and soft murmers that made you void of all worry and insecurity; because in that moment, all that mattered was you and your riduur.

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[liamloveslarry]

The Boy Who Cried Wolf~

okay i’ve posted some snippets below and i’ve kept the general theme the story flows in so far, however it may not make sense as i’ve purposefully left some things out but i think u can get a general vibe from it hopefully, idk let me know what you think bc it’s been ages since i’ve picked this up and i would love to finish and post it soon!

tw for one use of derogatory language, violence, body horror/gore, swearing, experimentation, surgery & fictional medicines, mild nsfw, use of guns but at the beginning - these all sounds worse than they are, but it’s a werewolf fic so there had to be some element of ~horror.

The ground beneath Harry is hard and damp. 

He can feel the wetness soak through into his already sodden socks from where his shoes had come off in the brawl, and it reminds him of being young and spilling ice cubes on the floor, trying to hastily clean the water up with his foot and feeling the cold cling to his toes. 

He squeezes his fists together and bends his head between his knees, breathing deep. 

There’s a chill in the air and the frost nips at his nude body, causing goosebumps to flare in his skins wake so fast it stings as they burst through his flesh. 

His long hair acts as a barrier against the frigid air, but every time he rocks back, the metal bars stood tall behind him hiss against his skin and cause him to whimper and growl. 

He looks up and wraps his arms around his knees, shielding what little modesty he has left. 

He can see two guards standing either side of the cell, each holding firearms in their sturdy arms. Their fingers on the trigger ready to shoot if Harry so much as thought about doing something he shouldn’t. 

There’s another body to the right of him that looks in bad condition. He can smell it before he sees it. The person’s leg appears to be injured judging by the sluggish trail of blood that’s pumping into a puddle on the floor, and there are multiple cuts and grazes across their torso and face. 

Deep enough that Harry can see muscle and bone. Deep enough that Harry can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.

If he focuses enough, he can hear them breathing. 

Or maybe that’s just himself.

Harry’s feet scuffle on the floor as he tries to get a closer look, but it causes one of the guard’s head to twist towards him and narrow his eyes, gripping his gun even tighter as he opens his big, fat mouth.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He growls.

Harry whips his head up and looks him in the eye. He retracts his arm slowly from where he was reaching out to touch the person’s pulse point and places it on the floor.

The guards face is pinched and sweaty, as if he’d be afraid of Harry if there wasn’t a thick barrier of metal between them. He can hear the hitch in his breath when does so much as blink, confirming the theory further that he’s more afraid of Harry than Harry is of him.

“What am I doing here?” His voice his shot and gruff, a reminder of just two hours previous when he’d been snarling and shouting, trying to tear chunks of flesh from their bodies out of fear while they’d held him down and stunned him into submissive shock.

He doesn’t remember much after being shoved into the back of a truck and led to where he assumes, he is now, cooped up in a dingy cell with a half rotting body and two wankers as company.

The guard punches out a laugh, the tip of the gun clanging against the metal as his body jerks forward. It causes Harry to wince as the sharp sound penetrates his ear drums.

“For a dog I thought you’d be smarter. But it looks like you’re just another dumb bitch.”

Harry’s fingers catch against the grain of the floor as the tip of his claw protrudes and causes the concrete to shift and crumble beneath him. He can’t help the rumble in his chest while the thought to bare his teeth becomes more prominent each second the guard smirks and cocks his gun mockingly at Harry’s head. 

“Calm down puppy, it’s not even a full moon yet so I dunno why you’re gettin’ all hyped up.” 

Harry doesn’t feel himself move but he can see the guard’s eyes sweep across his form, right from the tips of his toes to his hairline as he clenches his gun tighter, which means he now must be standing. 

He knows better than to step forward, knowing he’ll probably get shot if he dares so much as inch his pinky out. 

He can feel his bones shift and his muscles twinge, and there’s a deep throbbing coming from his thigh which he only notices now. As he casts his eyes down, he can see it’s torn and open. There must be something slowing the healing as usually something like that would’ve closed up by now.

“Tell me why I’m here.”

The guard cocks his eyebrow.

“No.”

Harry’s hands clasp into fists and he takes a deep breath.

“Tell me why I’m here.”

He can see the guard smirking, albeit if he narrows his eyes slightly, he can still see his pulse jumping under his skin as if trying to scramble from his body. He shifts his hip slightly to take the weight off his injured leg, causing his cock to slap against his thigh.

The guard’s eyes drift down and this time it’s Harry’s turn to smirk.

“What’s the matter? Never seen one this big before?”

The guards face turns red and he splutters, his pig face scrunching up as if he’d sucked on a sour lemon and he scrambles to point his gun through the bars and at Harry.

“Shut the fuck up you fucking dog! I swear to god I’ll blow your fucking brains out you mutt, you utter cu- “

“That’s enough.”

They both whip their head towards the second guard as his hand inches out and places it on the other guard’s gun, pushing it down slowly.

“You!”, he says, eyes piercing into the other man and gritting his teeth, “need to shut your fucking gob and stop riling Lassie up; and you!”, he turns and sweeps his gaze over Harry’s form, boots coming to rest against the edge of the metal, “need to stop asking so many sodding questions and shut up.”

Harry blinks down at his wet socks and frowns.

“Can I at least have some clothes?”

The second guards gaze lingers on his abdomen.

“No,” he smirks, eyes trailing upwards and resting on Harry’s face, “I’m rather enjoying the view.”

Harry growls out “fucking pervert” and doesn’t think twice before moves his foot forward, which causes the first guard to panic and fire his gun. 

The bullet doesn’t pierce his skin, but it’s made of something hard and it smacks full force him in the chest, instantly knocking him backwards and winding him.

He can see both of the guards arguing and waving their arms at each other, but his hearing has gone woofy so he can’t understand what they’re saying. 

The room is starting to spin and the pain in his thigh and upper chest are getting worse, causing Harry to sway on the spot and collapse onto his knees.

The last thing he remembers is the sound of an alarm before his vision blurs and turns to black.

~

It was dark by the time he’d left the office, nodding and waving at the receptionist who was sat in the tiny booth on his way out. It had also been raining, which Harry realises now he probably should’ve driven in, but the morning had been so frosty and clear with dew drops settling on autumn leaves, that he couldn’t help but walk through the winding paths and bramble bushes to get to work. Even if it did take him thirty minutes.

He remembers pulling his hood up and walking down the road until he reached a narrow ginnel that acted as a bridge between the small town and his house.

It had been here he’d been attacked.

At first, he thought it was just somebody mugging him and he knew it wasn’t best placed to chomp his way out of it, it wouldn’t look too good if a local hooligan had been found with teeth marks imprinted onto his skin, so he’d done his best to ignore him, promptly shoving them off; only to realise there was two of them and one had what looked to be a gun.

Stunned, he’d tried to run but they’d pinned him down and cast a sickening blow to his stomach. It had caused Harry to go into sensory overload as he could smell the cheap cigarette smoke on their collars and their nasty breath wafting up his nostrils, causing him to heave and snarl. It was only a matter of time before his abilities kicked in and his claws and teeth had decided to make an appearance. He’d nicked of the men on his jaw and tried to bite his neck, but the other man held an electric rod against his ribs and shocked him.

~

She’s fair skinned and has light brown hair that’s held up in a ponytail. She doesn’t say much as she checks the stats on the monitor screen, but Harry does his best to smile whenever she looks over at him.

“Hey. What’s your name?”

She startles and nearly drops her clipboard, grasping it at the last second before it falls to the floor. She looks at him wide eyed and says nothing.

“I’m not going to do anything, I promise”. He grins and wiggles his fingers slightly in the straps. “Not like I can do anything, anyway.”

She stares at him for a beat longer and lowers her head.

“Mary.” She mumbles, fiddling with the pen and twisting it in her fingers.

Harry smiles again and tries to get her to look up.

“Mary. That’s a nice name. My name’s Harry, but I’m guessing you already know that.”

She blushes and looks away, busying herself with the buttons on the monitor and biting her bottom lip. 

She’s nervous, Harry can sense it. But if he wants to get out of here semi-unscathed, he needs to play nice with those who so far, haven’t been very nice to him. She seems kind enough anyway, judging by the fact that she wasn’t poking any fingers into his wounds or prodding at his teeth.

“I know you probably can’t say much, and I understand that; I really do, but.” He sighs and looks down. “Please can you tell me where I am?”

She continues to ignore him, taking out a needle and flicking the cap. She pumps it a few times and Harry watches as the liquid inside begins to bubble up.

She goes to inject the tip into his thigh but he catches her wrist just as she was about to press in, claws forming a shield around her delicate bone.

She looks up at him wide eyed, her breathing heavy and scared.

“Mary, please. Please tell me where I am. I won’t let go until you say something.” He can feel her small hand trembling but he isn’t going to give up without a fight.

Her fingers squeeze tighter around the needle and she tries to force the tip into his skin, but his hold is stronger and she lets out a gasp.

“Please stop, you’re hurting me.” 

“I’m sorry, I will, I promise. But not until after you tell me where I am.”

Her fingers seem to seize and stop, dropping the instrument onto the bed and her quiet, shaking voice splits the silence open like a knife cutting through paper.

~

He can smell the winter air and the frost settles in his bones, calming him instantly. He’s also very aware that he’s still in a gown and participating in a full moon event of his own. 

He’s about to step over the threshold when a hand tugs him back.

Harry turns around, and he sees Mary for the kid she is. Barely an adult and shivering in the cold.

Her nose has turned red already.

~

He lets out a ragged sob and pounds his fist against the floor. He tries to move his leg and bend his arms to press against the solid ground so he can at least heave himself up when he notices a beaming light coming towards him. He turns his head and sees through tears, rain and the dirt prickling his eyelids, the headlights of a car that’s heading his way.

The car eventually slows down to a stop in front of him, but he can’t see much through the business of the windscreen wipers and the headlights shining in his eyes. He must look a right state right now, and he’s shocked the car even stopped for him. 

If it was him, he would’ve kept on driving. 

There’s a click and the engine turns off. The lights stay on, albeit they’re dimmed a touch. 

The car door opens from the driver’s side and a man dressed in a parka and joggers hesitantly makes his way around the front of the car.

There’s silence for a few moments until the man opens his mouth.

~

Harry doesn’t know how long they drive for. He’s content to just let the sound of the quiet radio wash over him while he huddles into the blanket more, directing his toes underneath the heater. He appreciates that Louis probably has a multitude of questions he’s dying to ask, but instead he keeps his mouth shut, humming along to the radio every now and then.

They drive through the tiny town of Barnstable and the car jostles as they drive over cobbled streets and the sporadic pothole. The occasional light flickers from the shore to the right of them, but other than that the streets are as dark and as quiet as the night sky.

They tumble upwards towards a hill and Louis leads them through winding roads and sharp bends. On a particularly keen one, the car lingers to one side and Harry’s thigh moves with the turn, bashing slightly against the inside of the car door.

He winces and Louis catches it, sending a look of sympathy his way.

“Sorry, mate. Won’t be long now – another couple of minutes.” He nods down at Harry’s leg which has started to seep blood through the material. “We’ll get that patched up straight away, just try and keep some pressure on it for now.”

Harry takes a deep breath and nods, wrapping a part of the blanket around his fist and pressing it harder against the wound.

~

He grabs some shampoo from the holder that’s stuck to the wall and squirts a generous amount into his palm, rubbing his hands together and lathering it through the strands. He does the same with the shower gel and starts to wash his body as he thinks.

What he remembers from the night feels fragmented and broken, tail ends of memories flashing before they disappear. He sighs and dips his head backwards underneath the water and washes the shampoo out. 

Whatever they shot him with must’ve delayed or hindered his healing abilities as usually anything superficial or worse, only takes around an hour to heal. Granted he’s never been shot before, it should’ve only taken a little longer before it had fully closed up, instead it had gotten worse the longer the bullet had been trapped inside his leg, rooted underneath muscle and skin.

He looks down and feels as well as sees, his skin starting to knit back together. Bits of flesh fusing as one around the stitches like solder to an iron. He doesn’t know what he’ll say to Louis in terms of there no longer being a wound or a scar left in its wake, but he figures he probably doesn’t need to be semi-nude around him again, so he decides not to say anything.

He scrubs the last remnants of dirt from his body and turns to switch the shower off, taking his time to grab the towel left for him on the radiator and wrapping it around his waist. 

He pads over to the mirror and looks at his reflection.

His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his cheekbones look hallow. His long hair is dripping lukewarm water down his chest and onto the floor, but he can’t find the energy in him to do something about it.

~

He spins towards Harry, blue eyes tired and sleepy, with a soft smile etched onto his face. He lifts his arm to ruffle the back of his hair and his arm muscle expands slightly, filling out the sleeve of his hoodie. It makes Harry swallow, a quiet click due to his dry throat echoing through the room.

“You’ll be okay in here, right?” Louis asks. “You know where the bathroom is and there’s some spare toothbrushes in the drawer, feel free to get up when you want and have another shower and stu- oh!” Louis pauses and places his hand into his hoodie pocket, pulling a small box out. “There’s some paracetamol here in case you need them in the middle of the night for your leg – pretty sure there’s a spare glass in the bathroom too, just in case you didn’t wanna stick your head under the tap.” He places the box down onto the bedside table and throws a smile Harry’s way.

Harry won’t need them but he nods and smiles anyway, yawning out a thank you. He forgets momentarily that Louis is still in the room when he starts taking the hoodie off, and only remembers when a cough sounds out against the silence and he whips his head up.

~

Harry unclicks his seatbelt and goes to open the car door when Louis’ hand stops him. He turns back. 

Tired, green eyes meet concerned, blue ones.

“Just.” Louis pauses. “Just be careful out there, okay?” Harry stays silent while Louis’ fingers tighten around his arm. 

It doesn’t feel unsafe.

“When I found you, I thought you were dead. I haven’t asked you what happened because I assumed you’d tell me when you were ready. And you still don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He rushes to say, then pauses to stroke his thumb lightly over Harry’s arm, hair standing to attention and swaying under soft material and fingertips. “So just, be careful. Please.”

His eyes feel like they’re boring into Harry’s soul, each pupil filled with worry and pleading as if for Harry to promise him. Harry doesn’t know what to do, so he gently places his hand on top of Louis’ and smiles kindly.

“I promise. It was just a,” how does he word this “– a bad night. And hopefully it won’t happen again.” He figures he might have to verbalize what happened one day, but today is not that day. Where would he even start? ‘Thanks for saving my life and oh, by the way, I’m a werewolf?’

One headache is enough for now.

Louis looks at him for a second longer and breathes out, squeezing his arm one last time and dropping his hand back down, resting it on his thigh.

“I’ll call you.”

Harry nods and opens the car door, turning back one last time.

“Thank you, for everything.”

~

Making his way through to the living room, he flicks the light on and watches as dust bunnies flit about the air, as if to say welcome home. The machine to the right of him is flashing relentlessly, signifying there are messages waiting for him. He presses the voicemail button and listens as a robotic voice, followed by a woman’s, floats through the speaker.

Beep. Three new messages.

Beep. First Message.

“Hi, love. It’s only me. Just checking to make sure you’re alright? I know you said you had a busy week so wanted to catch up before the weekend.”

Beep. End of first message. 

Beep. Second message.

“Hi, Harry. Me again. Not sure if you got my first message and I know you’re probably having a minute to yourself after work, but just give me a call back when you get this.”

Beep. End of second message.

Beep. Third message.

“Harry, it’s me. It’s nearly 8 o’clock and I haven’t heard anything. I’m starting to worry, will you ring me back, please? I swear to god if something’s happe-yes! I’m ringing him again, he’s not answering, Har-”

Beep. End of third message.

No more messages.

~

If he listens carefully enough, he can hear the hedgehog’s tiny teeth tear through the slop, gurgling as he swallows. Small wheezes puff through his narrow nostrils when he pauses, the spikes on his back sparkling under the stars. Harry’s eyes adjust better than any humans could while his ears hone in on the sounds around him. Voles and mice race through the grass, snatching worms and bugs alike. Owls hoot in the distance while foxes rummage through bins, rubbish galore. He can even hear the moths fluttering their tiny wings as they quiver and vibrate through the dark.

The plate is nearly empty when he hears something snap. Even Bob pauses licking the ceramic to sniff the air; black, beady eyes darting right to left. He must think they’re in the clear when he starts moving again, nifty nose nudging through wet food. Harry continues to watch the garden when he hears another snap. 

This time it’s louder.

Claws replace fingernails and grip the step below him, twists of PVC twirling underneath sharp talons as they’re sliced from the ledge. 

Forgive him for he usually wouldn’t be this on edge, however getting oneself kidnapped and tortured has made even the scariest of monsters slightly fearful.

Though his eyesight is much like that of a hawk, he can’t see anything out of the ordinary. The bushes and leaves sway slowly in the breeze, every now and then a hoot echoes in the distance.

He stops breathing when he feels something brush against his ankle and his claws pierce the delicate skin of his palm; but he realises when he looks down that it’s just Bob nuzzling between his sock clad feet, trying to reach a meaty grub that’s getting away. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, counting to ten in his head. He shifts his feet so his three-legged friend can reach his dessert. He decides it’s enough for one night and reaches down to pick the plate up. He stands and casts his eyes around the garden one more time, settling on a tree branch that rests over the fence. He doesn’t know how long he stares at it until he feels the chill of the air whip against his face. Blinking out of his stupor, he shakes his head and lets out a small huff, breath casting white shapes into the cold air. 

“Bed,” he whispers, “just go to bed, Harry.”

~

It’s the middle of the night when he needs the toilet, bladder unrelenting as he shuffles sleepily out of the tent, torch in one hand as he makes his way over to a nearby tree. He’s resting his palm against the trunk when he hears a snap and a low moan coming from somewhere next to him. He tries to hurry his peeing as fast as he can, shaking himself off and guiding himself back into his shorts when something barges into him, slamming him down onto the forest floor.

His head knocks against the ground and he groans, mind going fuzzy. He can’t see for shit what’s on top of him but it’s dark and big and it’s groaning. Rumbling screams clutching at his bones. He tries to shake it off but it’s larger than Harry, at least seven foot and it drags him about like prey. He goes limp and cold, as if his mind is disconnected from his body. All he can remember is a white-hot flash of pain from where the thing had sunken its jaws into Harry’s side, teeth seizing around his rib cage and pulling, twisting, sinking. He remembers trying to scream but no sound escaped his lips. It was like he was watching from above. Watching as his body was tugged and heaved from left to right. Sharp claws scratched and hooked at his hip bones, making sure he couldn’t get away.

He could feel blood oozing out from where he’d been bitten and torn at, and the pain he felt was almost blinding. His fingers twitched at his side until they felt something smooth and hard. In a moment of sheer adrenaline, Harry had lifted what he assumed was a rock and slammed it down onto the thing’s head, once, twice, three times. Until its jaws had become loose and its teeth unclenched from around his bones. Blood spurted onto his face, lining his lips and staining his eyelashes. The thing went limp and sagged against Harry’s body, white eyes rolling back into its split skull as it shivered, seized and stopped.

He remembers pushing it off his body as best he could and trying to scramble away from it, bare feet and toes digging into the soft earth as he pushed himself backwards. He gulped when he hit the back of a tree and lay panting, hands shaking as they touched his side, feeling nothing but hollow bone and air. Looking down there was only red. Torn flesh and muscle protruding and dangling down as if no longer part of his body.

He remembers sobbing as he blinked through the tears and tried to get a good look at the figure lying dead in front of him. Holding both hands against where he’d been bitten and pulled apart like leftovers.

He remembers looking up at the sky above him, the moon big and bold as she stared back at him.

He remembers feeling like he was going to die.

~

A book is placed into Harry’s hands and he looks confused at the two men before Zayn just nods his head at the item, encouraging Harry to open it. 

“What is this?” He asks.

“Just read it.” Niall says, blinking at Harry.

It’s black and the corners are worn. It isn’t a big book either by any means, but it’s chunky and smells of old leather. Indented in gold on the front page are what look to be like nymphs and needles, wound tight around flesh as if both are becoming one. He turns to the first page and registers the thin, waxy paper.

~

Harry nods, doesn’t feel as though he can speak properly before stepping onto the train. His foot barely reaches the entry when his name is called behind him. He turns his head and sees Zayn walking up to him.

“I,” he coughs, looking around him a touch awkwardly, Niall turns away and bends down, pretending to busy himself with his shoelace. “Stay safe, yeah?” 

He pulls something out of his pocket and presses it into Harry’s hand. “Call us if you need us, anytime. I mean it.”

And with that he’s spinning around and walking up to Niall, clapping him on the back and nodding towards the exit. Harry tightens his fist around whatever Zayn had given him and ducks into the carriage, finding a seat near the far back and sitting down.

He rests his head against the cool glass and shuts his eyes.

Tries to keep his racing thoughts from becoming nightmares.

~

Page 37.

Sally.

ne.re.id. sea.nymph. mer.ma.id.

August 13th 1989. 15:07pm.

Found near the North coast of Portknockie in Scotland. Terrain is rocky and waves were at high speed. Out of plain sight to any passersby, however not so hidden she wouldn’t have been spotted by cliff dwellers. Water is salty meaning she has not swum from any freshwater rivers or lakes. Around 250cm in length, including the tail which has been jaggedly severed from fin upwards. The creature is unconscious but has a strong heartbeat. A mixture of morphine and hematide has been administered into the left arm of the creature and she remains stable. 

Despite her long frame, she has a petite torso and fine hair decorating her entire upper half. Subject has dark hair and green eyes. They seem to change to lilac under fluorescent lighting while her pupils dilate. She speaks in broken sentences, mostly garbled hums and high-pitched warbles.

Subject has webbed fingers and sharp nails. Subject also does not have a belly button nor any eyebrows.

Harry’s fingers freeze around the handle of his mug and he places it down onto the table shakily, taking another steady breath inwards. Outside the bin men are talking joyously as the disposal unit crunches in the distance while the neighbours next door are having yet another argument about who’s turn it is on the computer. But nothing registers, and Harry can only focus on the words standing stark against yellow stained paper below him.

~

September 7th 1989. 14:24pm.

Subject ‘Sally’ has been prepped for surgery. Subomunex was dispensed into the subject’s neck gills. We have found this to be most effective when operating on water-based creatures as it releases certain toxins and nutrients to ensure the subject can breathe without the need for H20.

Research into the common cold occurred almost one year ago, and we have found certain elements that make up a nereid’s larynx fight most, if not all symptoms of a ‘sore throat’. Today we shall create a medium incision into the subject’s neck muscle and remove the larynx, most commonly known as the voice box, from the subject’s throat. Delicate strands of tissue and muscle will be removed and sent to the Section B lab where it will be tested and if successful, dispensed into edible capsules and distributed among Pharmacies across the UK. 

A tiny proportion of the larynx’s genetic makeup will be extracted and re-created to ensure there is enough material for us to provide in the long term.

There’s a picture underneath the paragraph of what looks to be a theatre and Sally stretched out along a bed, four doctors are also in the photo, two standing either side of the creature and if Harry squints, he can see their smiles through their surgical masks.

~

“H-hello?”

There’s silence before the other person speaks.

“Uh…is this Harry?”

He doesn’t register the voice and his brows furrow in confusion, nose sniffling.

“Uh, yeah? Who’s this?”

“It’s um, Louis?” the voice replies, “I picked you up from the middle of the road, uh. About a week ago?”

God, has it really only been a week?

All of a sudden, his eyes widen in stark realisation and he clutches the phone tighter in the palm of his hand.

“Oh! God, I’m so sorry, hi. How are you?”

There’s a little huff of laughter and Harry imagines Louis’ eyes crinkling.

“Yeah, I’m alright, mate. Are you? You sound a little…off.”

Harry leans against the living room wall and rolls his head sideways, “uh,” he glances at the book, “just a sad film, proper got to me, had a little cry as you do.”

~

“I should probably leave.” Harry says, and carefully dislodges Cliff’s head from his leg, placing it down gently onto the couch cushion beneath him. He doesn’t even move, just wiggles his back slightly and twitches his paw from where it’s resting in mid-air.

“If this is about you dribbling on me, I really don’t care. I’ve had worse things on me.”

Harry’s blush darkens, and he mumbles out, “it’s not about the dribble thing, I just think I should go.”

He stands up and makes his way into the hallway, vaguely aware Louis is talking to him, but the words are muffled against the heavy sound of Harry’s beating heart. He grabs one of his shoes and slips it on his foot, patting down his chest and pockets, trying to search for his keys while shielding his face so Louis doesn’t see how red his cheeks have become.

“-think you should just stay the night.”

Harry’s in the middle of slipping on his other shoe, when he braces his arm against the wall to stop him from tripping up, and turns to face Louis who’s piercing Harry with his gaze, despite the warm flush that’s expanding across his face.

“What?”

“I said, I think you should just stay the night.”

“I-,”

“I don’t mean, um,” Louis huffs a laugh, a telltale pink blooming on his cheeks, “in my room, or anything. I meant the spare room again, if you want?” He places his hands into his jean pockets and rocks back a little on his feet, “it’s just really frosty outside, and dark, so I’d feel pretty shitty if I let you drive back now.”

“Lou-“

“Sorry if it sounds like I’m being pushy, I don’t mind, really! It’s just,” he sighs, lips pursing and fingers reaching out to scratch at the chipped paint on the wall, “I’d just hate for something to happen, y’know, like last time,” he murmurs quietly, a sad sort of smile sweeps across his lips and he looks down, shrugging his shoulders.

You’d think what happened that night fucked him up a little too.

Maybe it did.

After all, he was the one who made sure Harry was alright and pulled a bullet from his leg, right over where Harry casts his eyes into the kitchen.

~

He groans and lifts his body to sit upright, leaning down and massaging his leg with his hand. 

He drops his head forward and sighs, insides feeling like they were going to jump out of his skin any second and run off the excess energy without him. He stands up and stretches, fingers pointing upwards towards the ceiling while his back cracked along his spine. 

It felt like a shift, bones and muscles repositioning under flesh, like tectonic plates moving and slotting into the different crevices of his body. But it wasn’t time, and Harry had learned to control the urge quite early on after he’d found himself naked in the local park after a midnight stint, bleary eyes opening to find ducks quacking nervously in the pond and a jogger staring at him with his mouth hanging open; probably wondering what he was doing lying there nude at four in the morning. He wasn’t too far from home that he couldn’t sprint back in time that nobody else noticed him, covering his delicate parts with his hands as he ran through the streets in the milky morning light. 

His clothes had been torn to shreds and he doesn’t remember much, not a great deal of evidence either from the night before other than the dirt that had gathered underneath his fingernails and twigs in his hair. He also felt different somehow, as if his body finally relaxed into itself and took one huge breath out.

~

Louis slides the door fully open then and steps into the room, toes sinking into the plush carpet beneath him. He isn’t wearing anything other than his boxers and Harry’s very aware he’s in just the same. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Harry shakes his head, fingers spreading out along the bed and clutching at the tight bottom sheet, trying hard not to think about how Louis’ shut the door behind him, not fully, but just enough to bathe the majority of the room in moonlight and heavy whispers.

“Me neither.” Louis huffs, lips morphing into a small smile and feet shuffling forward. “Feel like my body’s just pent up, y’know? Usually I’m out like a light.”

“Same.” Harry replies. “My brain won’t switch off so I’ve just been,” don’t tell him you’ve been snooping, “counting sheep.”

“And the bang?” Louis laughs.

“Oh! Uh, I just got up for some water and tripped into the bedside table.”

Harry doesn’t think about how it’s becoming easier and easier to lie.

“Do you need anything for it?” Louis asks, coming closer as if trying to inspect Harry’s foot. His toes scrunch inward under the careful scrutiny, as if they don’t want Louis to see how unblemished they really are.

There’re only a few feet between them now and Harry can feel the sleepy heat radiating from Louis’s body, can count the chest hairs that sit between his pecs and can smell the fabric conditioner of his bed sheets caught up in the hairs on his arms.

“No, I think I’m good.” He swallows, throat clicking and fingertips twitching beside him as if they’re aching to reach out and feel just how soft Louis’ skin is underneath quivering patterns of swirly flesh.

“Okay.” Louis whispers, eyelids blinking slowly, heavy with heady want, tongue inching out to lick his dry lips.

[achliegh]

Golden

(Sorry if this Chapter is lack luster :/ )

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Ladies Love Country Boys

Bonfire Playlist: Spotify, Youtube

Watching Airplanes

Chapter 2:

Cowboy Sweet Ass sent you a Location

New Message from Cowboy Sweet Ass

See you there ;)

Finn was nervous, he wasn’t gonna lie, Logan and Him are leaving tomorrow for Gryff and this is the last night they can see Leo. Who, neither of them will admit this, has kindly wiggled his way into their brains for every minute of everyday. Sometimes to break a long silence between the two of them they will talk about Leo. How they were going to cope when they can’t see him again is unknown and something he didn’t want to think about.

They hadn’t actually seen Leo in the past five days, with their training schedule and Leo helping set up a charity arena for the thing they were supposed to meet him at tonight, it was just late night calls that were still kinda awkward at times. But always had them smiling as they fell asleep.

Walking up the dirt path, where the uber had dropped them off, Logan and Finn weren’t sure they were in the right place until they saw the huge crowd gathered around a tall metal fence with bleachers and an announcers corner that's up on a hydraulic lift, speakers set up so people can hear the quick talking of the men commenting on whatever was happening.

Horses and people on them were everywhere. This causes Logan a lot of stress, as someone who is terrified of horses… This is not ideal. Especially when one is trotting toward them at a scary fast speed.

Finn recognized Clayton immediately, trotting over at a leisurely pace on a cool looking horse he waves. He notices Logan hiding himself completely behind Finn’s back. Finn held his hand out for Logan to take and squeeze if everything got too much for him. Logan wasn’t good in big crowds.

“Well look who it is!” Clayton hops off his living vehicle and patting her neck. “Let me introduce you to my babe, This” He gestures towards the mare, “Is Leroy, she is a Blanket Appaloosa! Have you guys met Peanut yet? He’s chilling with Eloise, Leo’s mom, you better hope he likes you or else… yeah, or else.” Clay flashes them his slightly crooked but stupidly white smile as he absentmindedly pets Leroy’s neck.

Feeling a squeeze of his hand he looks back to see an absolutely terrified Logan, not knowing about his fear of horses Finn is just confused. So, he goes into a ‘ get Logan alone’ mind set.

“We will find you in a minute, we’re gonna explore!” Finn smiles back and Clayton nods as he swings his leg back over Leroy and clicks his tongue so she struts back towards the group of other yeehaws on their own horses, they all had numbers pinned to their backs which was weird but Finn guessed Leo would explain later. Claytons was CR243, and it looked like it was about to fall off. He notices how someone would go in real fast and then come out after a minute or two. The announcer talked too fast for him to catch.

Leading Logan to a more open area he turns to face him and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, what's wrong?”

“Ummmm, J'ai peur des chevaux….” Logan isn’t looking him in the eyes and has an embarrassed flush to his face. Finn, having no clue what he said, gently grabs his chin to make him look at him, Lo hasn’t run his finger through his hair yet so that means he isn’t nervous around Finn at least. Fixing Logan with a slightly irritated but still worried look, Logan sighs and tries to say something but instead what comes out is a terrified yelp as something takes his hat off his head and pulls some of his hair at the same time, then drops it at his feet.

Whipping around and jumping into Finn’s arms bridal style Logan shrieks as he is met with a blonde horse that almost looks smug. The little splotchy white stripes on its snoot may make it look kinda cute but Logan knows what can happen if you get on a horse's bad side. It happened to Sydney, he didn’t need it to happen to him too.

“Peanut!” A very tall and beautiful older woman walks over to them laughing a little, she has a hearing aid in her left ear and soft blue eyes bright with amusement stare them down. “Sorry Y’all, he likes to find new people to mess with.” She smiles and there is just something so familiar about those deep dimples and sharp cheekbones. She is wearing tight jeans with knee high army green cowboy boots, a white button up with a black cowboy hat contrasting the golden curls falling out from under it. She is wearing a sash with the words ‘Miss Louisiana 1971’ the wrinkles on her face didn’t make her look old and crinkly like people like to think, but more like a gracefully aging woman. She holds her hand out to Finn for him to shake, Logan is still in his arms so it is as much of an invitation to him as Finn. “I’m Eloise, this is my son’s horse.” She looks them up and down after shaking both their hands. “He would like you two.” She smiles one last time, giving them a giant wink and leads Peanut away from them back to the bullpens where they spot Leo sitting on the top of a fence talking to a couple of people.

Finn looks at Logan and sets him down.

“So.. horses?”

“Shut up”

“You go for a cowboy and are afraid of horses!” Finn is bent over laughing and clutching his stomach while Logan crosses his arms and looks around annoyed after he dusted off his hat and put it back on his head.

“What’s so funny?” they look over to see Leo in full get up. Smiling bright, showing off his chipped tooth. His hair was flattened by a black sturdy cowboy hat, his blue button up vibrant under his black vest. The vest had a couple of logos stitched into it for Absolut Vodka, Mt. Dew, and Ariat…. Leo was sponsored? He was also wearing some jeans that fit him just right around his booty that they could see through his assless black chaps that had iridescent tassels on them, with his black boots and belt to match. His silver buckle stood out with the light reflecting off it.

“Wow… you look great.” Logan just melts into Leo’s side when Leo wraps an arm around his shoulders. “But tell Finn to stop being a jerk.” Logan put on his best pout when looking up at the taller man, who looked at him with a look that made his heart feel like it was about to jump out of his chest. It didn’t alarm him though, it was nice to feel like this. But it can’t last forever.

“What's he doing that's so mean.” Leo turns his attention to Finn who is smiling at them like he's watching two kittens cuddle into each other. His eyes bright with happiness, his smiles wide.

“He’s making fun of me because I’m scared of horses.” Logan wraps his arms around Leo’s waist and squishes his cheek into his chest to look as cute as possible, so Leo will be on his side. Which… fails.

“You’re afraid of horses!” Leo hugs Logan as he starts laughing, smacking a kiss on the top of Logan’s annoyed forehead and squeezes him. “You’re so cute.” Suddenly they hear numbers coming over other speakers and Leo perks up. “Oh I’m up soon! I hope y’all are gonna stay and watch because I would love to take you to the bonfire tonight.” He pulls Finn into the embrace and gives them both a quick peck on the lips, smiling when they chase his lips. “There should be an open spot in the bleachers or, you could watch from Peanut.”

“Bleachers!” Logan gets out of Leo’s arms and starts pulling both the boys towards the crowd without horses. Leo helps them find a spot next to some girls who flirt with Leo but he has no fucking clue. He is just focused on getting Finn and Logan a good spot.

“Alright, my number is BR11710, so when you hear that you’ll know I’m up! I think Clay might come and find you, he had a good run earlier wrangling those troublemaking claves, so keep an eye out for him.” He smiles and climbs down the bleachers gracefully until the last small step where his spur gets caught and he has to yank it out of the cevous it got stuck in. Looking back up at Finn and Logan his cheeks were red as he shrugged and sauntered off towards the chutes.

“Hola losers!” Clayton plops down above with and slaps a hand on their shoulders. “Excited to see him ride? Or have you already? Actually I would know because we overshare way too much.” Smiling, Clayton is covered in dirt and his cowboy hat has been traded out for a ball cap and his button up taken off to be just a white tank top. A tall pale girl sat down with Clayton and was scrolling on her phone looking uninterested. Clayton sits up and wraps an arm around her waist. “Oh this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” She looks up and gives them an irritated wave before going back to her phone.

“Ride? What’s he doing?” Finn looks at him confused after sharing a look with Logan about the irritated girlfriend, then they hear the announcers call Leo's number.

“Alrighty ladies and gentlefolk! We have something special for y’all! One of our very own PBR riders is here to ride the roughest toughest bull of the day! Ole Forty Days!” The crowd cheers as a confused Finn and Logan look at Clayton who whoops and hollers for his bestie. Whistling with his thumb and forefinger in his mouth.

“Alright Jimmy lets get in some commentary before the ride starts, Leo Knut is a 19 year old Professional Bull Rider, his Mother is Eloise Knut also known as Miss Rodeo of 1970 and Miss Louisiana of 1971. His father was Wyatt Knut, Air Force Veteran who was also Leo’s biggest role model.”

“Was?” Logan whispers and gives a sad look to Finn who is busy watching Leo, he is on this tank of an animal, large, white, horns the size of his whole forearm. Leo was adjusting the way he is sitting and has an underside grip on the rope around the bull, wrapping it around his palm to make sure there isn’t a tether that can be stepped on and yank him off.

“Ole Forty Days is the only PBR bull here today, worth millions he is undefeated 32-0 in his career this year. Will Leo who is 30-2 this year be able to stay on those eight seconds.”

Leo hits the challenge button and the gate flies open, Ole Forte days is wild! Finn is automatically on his feet as he watches Leo with his hand up in the air, eyes hard from focusing and counting in his head. Forte turns a 45 degree buck and just about tosses Leo but his grip is so tight that he lasts those eight seconds. The announcers went crazy the entire time.

As he dismounts the still bucking bull his wrist gets caught in the rope he was holding earlier because of the way his glove is falling apart. The rodeo clowns distract the bull fast enough for Leo to get himself detached, falling on the ground. The bull tosses Leo onto the ground and just misses stomping on his ankles. Leo hops onto the fence, the adrenaline is pumping through his veins and his eyes are bright as he searches for the boys in the stand watching him with fear etched into their faces. When his eyes met Logan’s the fear turned into relief and Leo felt the adrenaline making his heart beat even faster.

After Forte is corralled back into the pen to have the rope around his hips removed Leo jumps off the fence and takes his hat off bowing to the crowd, and they love it, whistling and whoops are heard. He points to Finn, Logan and Clayton. Clayton is so excited and starts dragging the other two down the bleachers leaving Ashley behind. Leo doesn’t like her at all so it's fine. Leo turns around and walks towards sports medicine and lets them take a look at his wrist. As his adrenaline starts to fade away the tweak in his wrist starts to bother him as the medic wraps it up.

“You just ruined Forte’s career!” Clay hugs him from the side and picks him up all excited, his girlfriend who decided to join looks at them unapprovingly. Finn and Logan basically tackle Leo to the ground once Clay puts him down. One on each side of him, balanced.

“Are you insane! That could have killed you!” Finn is shaking a laughing Leo by his collar as Logan examines the way his wrist is wrapped.

“I know, I technically wrecked at the end but I still got my eight seconds!” He smiles and takes his hand from Logan, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin.

“You never told us you rode bulls! Leo, a little heads up would have been appreciated!” Logan whacks him on the back of the head after they stand up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” Leo puts an arm around them and kisses their temples. They had an idea. Where to do it was the question.

The rodeo ended not long after Leo’s ride, the charities the winners chose would be given a five thousand dollar check courtesy of the Knut’s. After Leo was done taking down the arena, a large pile of wood was set up with large equipment. Leo pulled a Clayton and took off his chaps, vest, button down, and hat off so he was wearing a white shirt and a ball cap.

Leo made up for scaring Finn and Logan by pulling them into the back seat of his truck. Leo sitting in the middle of the seat with Finn straddling one leg, hunched over and sucking on Leo’s neck. Logan straddled Leo’s other leg and kissed him with a ferocity that made them both groan. Leo rested his hands in Finn’s hair and on Logan’s hip. Pulling away Leo turns his head to face Finn, guiding him from his neck to lips. He feels Logan push his hand underneath his shirt and smirks into his kiss with Finn. Moving his hands to squeeze both of their asses, causing Logan’s breath to hitch and Finn to moan. He is about to suggest something spicy when a knock on the window alerts them that the party has started.

Why does Clay always have to stick to his word? Leo asked him to let them know when it was time to move his truck to have the tailgate facing the fire, and now was that time. Leo’s head thumps back onto the seat as he lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Well, I guess we have a party to attend… I’m gonna get so drunk.” He smiles and gives his boys one last kiss before he ushers them out of the truck so he can get out of the backseat to move it.

Finn wanders over to Clayton who has Ashley under his arm, she is tall and very skinny. Her long brown hair was in a French braid, she was wearing short shorts, boots and a crop top. He has a very sour look on her face as Finn walks over to them. Logan on the other hand, goes to take a piss in the porta potty. Something he is not fond of doing.

Leo moves his truck and gets out to put the tailgate down so people can sit on it, climbing into the bed of the truck he opens the cooler in the back and takes out two budlights, Leo doesn't really care for budlight but they need to be drunk.

“CLAYTON!” He shouts as the three walk over to the truck, chucking the beer at his friend; they both take out their keys, puncturing the cans and shotgunning the beers.

A few hours and a lot of drinks later Leo was singing to Finn, standing between his legs as Finn sat on the tailgate next to Logan who was filming.

“You can train 'em, You can try to teach 'em right from wrong. But it's still gonna turn 'em on!” Finn can’t help but laugh and wrap his arms around Leo’s necklaces he sang, every once in while facing Logan's phone and singing into the camera as he filmed. Taking a drink of his beer he smacks a sloppy kiss on Finn's cheek and skips away to Clayton to dance like idiots as Luke Bryan sang about shaking it for birds and bees.

The two drunken best friends wrap and arm around each other hips with their drinks in the other hand, putting left side to right side they swing back and forth to the beat as they scream out the music.

Later on Leo picks Logan up so his arms are around his neck and his legs are around his waist and spins around while humming to a song about wheels and Finn looks so smitten that clayton takes a picture to show him and laughs as he send it to Leo, who has managed to misplace his phone… for the millionth time.

Setting Logan down he wraps his arms around the shorter man's shoulders and rests his chin on top of his head as he bounces to the beat. Logan leans his forehead to rest on Leo’s chest and uses his hand that isn’t holding his water to loop his finger into one of Leo’s belt loops he wishes he could take a screenshot in his brain.

Hours passed, singing and horrible dancing, more drinking for Clay and Leo until it sounded like a good idea to see who could crush a folding table by jumping off Clayton’s truck. Finn managed to lead them away before they actually tried it by telling them’ Leo could def dance better than Clayton’. Which turned into the worst dance battle ever seen. Two drunk teenagers and country music make for terrible dancing but a lot of laughs. Eventually, the fire dies down, the drinks run out and the boys get tired. Finn wrangles Leo into the back seat of the truck after lifting the tailgate, moving to go to the drivers seat because Logan might be to short to drive and they are to dumb to figure out how to move the seats, Leo latches onto him and pulls him into the backseat with him.

“Hey! How do you expect me to drive back here!” Finn pokes Leo’s nose and Leo catches his finger in his mouth biting him. Finn squawks and pulls his finger away. Looking at Leo offended, laughing a little as Leo is looking at him with this tiny smirk. “That was rude.” Leo narrows his eyes playfully and flips them so Finn is laying on his back with Leo snuggling into his chest.

Logan gets in on the passenger side and looks up to see Finn in the back seat being snuggled by an oddly cat like Leo who is rubbing his face on Finn’s soft t shirt, when his eyes meet Logans he blushes so vibrantly pink and has the shyest smiles as he hides his face in Finn’s chest again. Logan looks at Finn who looks like he's dying from cuteness overload. Logan moves over to the driver's seat and sits all the way on the edge of the seat to be able to touch the petals. Logan doesn’t have a clue where Leo lives… but he does remember how to get back to the hotel.

Trying to get a clingy 6’3” cowboy into a hotel room while he is intoxicated is a lot easier than you would think. He was tired, stripping down the second they walk into the door he lands on the bed in his boxer briefs and spoons Logan and grips Finn’s arm as he falls asleep.

They all slept incredibly well that night, warm, close, and together.

The next morning was the morning The Lions leave to go back to Gryffindor. Leo was up before the other two, showered and dressed when he woke them up with peppering kisses all over their faces.

“Good morning, Honey Bees. Y’all need to get up and get ready to leave, you go home today.” Leo runs his hand through Finn’s hair as he greets them with a sad smile. He doesn’t want them to leave, but he knows that this isn’t some fairytale where two princes will give up their dreams to be with him. That’s not what he wants anyway. The other two finally get up, Finn goes to shower as Logan changes and packs his bag. Glancing at Leo every once in a while, like he wants to say something.

“Leo, what are you still doing here?” Logan drops his bag by the door and turns around to face the taller man, crossing his arms and giving Leo a cold look. Leo is a little taken back by this, Logan has never looked at him like that, and he wasn’t expecting it from how nice yesterday was.

“I was to see you two off… is that okay?” Leo starts to feel uncomfortable under the harsh eyes he found so pretty, he starts picking at the wrap around his wrist, breaking eye contact with Logan as a sinking feeling seeps into his chest. He never expected anything to actually come from this but he ached for it.

He knows where this is going.

“I don’t know what you think is going to happen after we leave, but we aren’t going to be fawning over you when we are busy with our own careers. You are just… a guy who we had a fling with. Finn and I aren’t even together so don’t expect anything.” Logan's voice stayed low in volume but echoed in Leo’s ears.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. I just wanted to see you guys leave, say goodbye, maybe…” Leo didn’t finish his sentence when he looked up at an annoyed and frustrated Logan. “What did I do?” He hears the bathroom door open and Finn walks into the room whistling in fresh clothes as he dries his hair with a towel.

“You don’t mean anything to us Leo'' Finn hears Logan and knows exactly what’s going on, Logan has done this to him many times. This is Logan’s way of cutting off something he wants in a way he knows won't bring the person back, even though he always feels horrible eventually. Finn has been a victim of Logan’s lashing out many times, and he hasn’t left, because he loves Logan. He really really likes Leo, he gives his heart a similar jolt that Logan does. From what they have discussed, Logan felt the same. Logan doesn’t allow himself the luxury of feeling like this though.

Leo looks absolutely shattered after Logan’s words sank in. He looks over to Finn who looks like he’s in his own head, then back to Logan. “I really really like you guys-”

“Stop being a fucking child Leo! This isn’t something we can continue after we leave, we would get torn to shreds by the league! Not everything is about you and we don’t want you! So just go back to your fucking farm and forget us.” Logan grabs his bag and walks out the door slamming it shut, going to be the first one on the bus that just pulled up to take the team to the airport.

Leo stares at where Logan was when red catches his eye, Finn stops and gives Leo a sad smile, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Finn then turns his back to Leo and follows Logan out the door. Leaving Leo alone in the hotel room… He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the hotel keycard, standing up he goes to leave it on the table of the room, he stops just before he sets the key down.

He takes the card and walks out of the room, Climbing into his truck that was horribly parked, he finds his phone on the floor of the passenger side. Picking up his phone, he calls up the only person he knows who would be willing to hang out even if he was sick from last night.

“Clay? Can you meet me somewhere?”

A half hour and some McDonald's hash browns later. Clayton and Leo were sitting on top of Leo’s truck hood watching the airplanes take off, sipping on soda they got with their food. They watched in a comfortable silence as planes brought people in and took people away.

Logan and Finn were on one of those.

[thewildomega]

Feral Red Dog ch. 1

 A/N: So I will say this again Trigger Warning. Also this Awesome Fan art of young Sakazuki is not mine, the artist to what I understand deleted their account so I hope they won’t mind me using their work. Anyways I hope ya’ll like it and if you could leave me some feedback it would make my day. 

Sitting on the cold, hard stone you winced at the ache of your backside and the burning pain of your wrists. Looking down at the cuffs binding your wrists together you noticed the red stain to your skin and tilting your head, you bit your lip at the sight of your now raw flesh, patches of flesh rubbed away by the rough metal. Sighing you pulled your knees up to your chest in an attempt to get more warmth to your near freezing body. The cave- like place those disgusting pirates deemed as a good hiding place was damp and cold, seeming to seem into your very bones. It had been days since you had seen the sun and even longer since you had eaten, you were pretty sure your body had given up asking for food at this point. You felt so weak, even if a chance to ever escape came you doubt you would be able to make it far in your state. Glancing up to the man currently posted as your watchdog you saw him sitting on the crate, his own eerie black eyes lifting from where he had been sharpening a blade to look at you. Dropping your head to your knees you let your heavy eyes slip close and took in a shallow breath, your broken ribs making it hard to get the air you needed.

Sleep almost had you under her spell when a loud boom filled the air and then the cave shook. Cannons. Snapping your eyes up you saw the man become alert as well, standing and holding his long blade in his hand while his other moved to his pistol on his hip. Men shouting and yelling echoed through the tunnels of the cave, one word making your blood turn to ice, "Marines!"

Scrambling to your feet you started towards the male, "Hey, hey come on you have to let me...Ahhh!" A hard smack to your left cheek sent you falling to the rocky floor, blood dripping from your lips. 

"Quiet girl!" He huffed. 

"JET, KEEP THE BITCH ALIVE! SHE'S WORTH A FORTUNE!" Another male voice rang from down the tunnel. 

Breathing heavily you could only listen as the marines began infuriating the cave. Gunshots and yelling bounced off the cave walls. The high pitch clash of swords and screams of those being injured or killed filled your ears. Your heart was soon to beat out of your chest like that of a cornered animal about to be slaughtered. Swallowing hard you felt your body begin to tremble as the heavy boots thumped on the cave floor. They were coming. Seeing the male that had been keeping watch of you yell out and charge forward you tensed. A blood curdling scream was heard before a body fell into your line of sight, a young man dressed in marine whites that were quickly turning red. The sound of a gun went off, a bullet ricocheting off the rock walls and more yelling. It was now or never. Either way you were most likely going to die, you wouldn't go down without a fight. Hurrying to the side you looked around the large bolder to see the man who had been watching you battling a marine. Snapping your eyes in the other direction you saw shadows of men on the walls. Licking your cracked lips you hear a gasp and looked to see 'Jet' cut the other man in the abdomen, the male falling backwards. Watching as the pirate lifted his gun, pulling back the hammer and aiming at the young male you saw a fallen sword laying by the dead male and acted quickly. Grabbing the blade you ran towards the male and shoved it through his shoulder blades as hard as you could. Watching him fall dead beside the injured marine you met the young beta's eyes for only a moment, shock filling his grey eyes before you took off down the tunnel. 

Skidding to a stop as more fighting broke out in front of you, you opted for running around them. Hearing what sounded like the captain of the pirates yell for someone to grab you, you kicked the man who went to grab you in the groin as you ran for the exit. A sharp pain in your thigh made you stumble, your leg falling out from under you and a broken cry leave your throat as you rolled to the ground and out of the cave entrance. Whimpering you grit your teeth and forced yourself to stand, your right leg now barely able to hold your weight. Seeing an open grass covered plain in the full moon's light you began limping as fast as you could for it. As the sound of the battle seemed to grow more distant you thought you may be in the clear before something was sending you falling towards the ground again and hard. Whimpering you let out a huff though your nose as you tried to push yourself up again. 

"Give it up, Pirate scum." 

Hearing the extremely deep male voice you pushed yourself up to your knees, the male's shadow falling over you as he came to stand in front of you.

Looking over the what he now knew to be female he watched as she struggled to get to her knees in the tall grass. Walking around to stand in front of her he looked down at her and noticed imminently the iron shackles around her wrists that were not marine grade. It was hard to tell in the moonlight but she looked like she had been through hell. As her tired eyes met his he scanned over her beaten face he quickly came to the assumption that she was not in fact one of those pirates but more likely a captive of theirs. Still though there was something wild in her eyes. Crouching down to get a closer look of her he was hit with a strong scent that made something primal in him purr with delight. he now knew why she was being held captive by them, this young woman was an omega. Reaching out to grip her jaw in his large hand dodged her attempted bite and dug his fingers into her skin a little as he tilted her face to each side, looking for any signs of pervious claim, seeing none he raised one brow. 

You knew him, oh God why did it have to be him? Vice Admiral Sakazuki. Fear, all you felt was fear and it was made worse by the overwhelming scent of his alpha hormones. How, how did it come to this? With you on your knees, wrists chained, with none other than the most feared vice admiral staring down at you with his hard, brown eyes, seeming to burn a hole straight to your soul. Holding the alpha’s stare you grit your teeth, "Well get on with it." you growled. If he was going to kill you you wished he would hurry it up. But to your surprise the male only let out a small huff of amusement before the corner of his lip lifted up, his next words changing the rest of your life.

"You'll do." he huffed. 

Furrowing your brows you felt your heart hammer in your ears. Watching him stand back to full height you wanted to ask what he meant but the world started spinning and other muffled voices were growing closer. Feeling very lightheaded you blinked your heavy eyes and saw him no longer focusing on you as he spoke to whoever else was there. Weakly you tried to move, pushing your body up to your wobbly legs but fell to the ground shortly after. Looking up at the stars as they twirled around the night sky you saw something dark block your view. Deep muffled voices sounded like thunder in your ears and then you were being lifted from the dew covered grass and an immense warmth was enveloping you. Trying to keep your heavy eyes open you parted your dry lips to speak when a deep voice cut through the darkness evading your mind. 

"Sleep omega." he told her and felt her small form fall limp in his arms. Carrying her back to his ship he made his way straight to the med bay and barked out for one of the doctors to come attend to her. Now in the light of he ship he saw she was small, frail even. Her dirty and matted hair looked to be a Crimson red and she was very malnourished, her torn and bloody clothing doing nothing to hide how skinny she was. Stepping back as the doctor went to work on her he crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Who is this woman Vice Admiral?" the doctor asked. 

"That is something I intend to find out. Treat her and keep me updated on her condition." he spoke deeply, leaving no room for discussion. 

"Yes sir." the woman said and heard the male's heavy footsteps grow faint as he left them alone. 

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

Hushed voices. Warmth. Pain. Groaning you felt your brow twitch and the extreme dryness of your throat. Attempting to swallow just to get some kind of moisture you flinched when something touched you. Feeling your head get lifted some and another pillow get moved behind your head you whimpered at the stiffness of your body. 

"Shhh, it's alright, you are safe. Here drink." 

Feeling something touch your lips you obeyed and swallowed greedily at the water the unknown woman was giving you. Once you had had your fill you turned your head slightly and felt her pull the glass away. Cracking your eyes open you instantly closed them again at the light that blinded you. Flutter your lashes open slowly you felt your eyes adjust and then blinked a few times before finally being able to look at the woman, the nurse as she was so obviously dressed. Casting a glance around the room you saw what looked to be a hospital room. White walls, white floors and white ceilings. It smelled clean as well. 

"You are in the hospital on Marine headquarters." she told the woman in a kind voice. 

Snapping your eyes back to the beta female you tensed at the information. You could only stare at the brown haired woman as she went about telling you how lucky you were to be alive and how Vice Admiral Sakazuki had been the one to 'save' you. 

Noticing the woman's breathing pick up she reached out to touch her and saw her instantly recoil. "You are okay miss, you are safe here, no one is going to hurt you." She told her. "Can you tell me your name?" she asked but the woman wouldn't answer. "Are you hurting at all? I can adjust your medication...."

"No." you spoke, your voice cracking a bit. No you didn't want her to put you back to sleep, you needed to find a way out of here. 

"Well you must be hungry. I will go get you some soup and inform the Vice admiral that you are awake."

"Time..." you croaked out, glancing to the window and seeing little to no light. 

"It's almost dawn. He is likely not up yet but he was very clear that he was to be told when you woke." she spoke, adjusting the woman's blankets. "You just relax and I will be back shortly." 

Watching the woman walk out of the room, closing the curtain behind her to give you privacy you looked down to your body and saw you wore nothing but a simple grey gown.  Lifting your arms you saw your wrists wrapped in bandages along with a small one over the cut that had been on your forearm. There was an IV line in the top of your hand. Following the line up to the stand you saw two bags, one most likely fluids and the other medicine of some sorts. Taking a deep breath you bit your lip as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, your muscles aching along with your side. Hooking a finger in the neck of your gown you saw your upper half wrapped in bandages as well. Pushing the blankets from your legs and lifting the gown up your thigh you saw a thick layer of gauze wrapped around your mid thigh, the gunshot. That would pose a problem in your escape. Turing to hang your legs over the bed you eased off the side and had to quickly catch yourself from falling to the floor. Panting you took a few minutes to adjust, pulling the IV out of your hand and tossing it to the bed. Stumbling to the curtain you peeked out and saw another bed on the other side, a sleeping man there. Noticing a neatly folded pile of clothes on the table you narrowed your eyes. 

After painstakingly pulling on the man's marine uniform you sun your hair around into a ball on the top of your head and tugged on the cap, tucking in any stray hairs. Walking to the opening the nurse had left through you peeked out and saw as another nurse, an older lady moved behind another curtain across the room. With a deep breath you started across the room and out to the hall, keeping your head down. Looking left then right you saw no one either way but could hear voices coming from the right so you chose left. Walking for some time you saw people coming towards you, two doctors by the looks of it. Panicking you grabbed the vase of flowers from the nurse's station counter and kept walking, holding the flowers over your face. 

"Morning officer." one of the doctors spoke. 

"Morning." you muttered, making your voice as deep as possible. Hurrying down the stairs you continued holding the vase until you got to to the main front desk and placed them down. Walking out of the hospital you started going down as many side streets as possible until before long you had no idea where you were and the sun was up in the sky. More people were out on the street now, marines and what you assumed were their families. Seeing a woman walking with two small children you swallowed hard and moved to her. "Excuse me miss..." When she turned to look at you you licked your lips, "I was wondering if you could help me out, I'm new here and well I'm a little lost. Could you tell me where the docks are?"

Smiling she tilted her head. "Of course, I was the same my first few months here. If you go down this main street you will see a sign that tells you to go right and you just follow that the whole way down to the docks." 

Nodding you gave her a small smile and thanks before following down the way she told you. Feeling your leg throb you bit the inside of your cheek and pushed on. If you were lucky you would be able to slip aboard a leaving ship and then play marine until you could slip away on the next island. Turning right like the woman said you were passing a storefront when something wrapped around your waist, a large hand coming up to cover your mouth before you could say a word. 

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

Walking down the halls of the hospital, people moved out of his way per usual. Getting to the wing she had been in for the last four days he saw a nurse carrying a tray of soup and other small things towards her room. The young woman looked up at him and grinned politely. "Good morning Vice Admiral, I was just about to bring her something to eat." 

"So she is awake then?" he asked, moving to help open the curtain for the nurse so she wouldn't spill the omega's food.

"Yes sir she..." 

Hearing the young woman stop short and seeing her face turn to one of shock he quickly looked to the bed to see it empty. "WHERE IS SHE?!" he roared. 

Shaking at the alpha's loud roar she felt some of the soup spill to her front and quickly looked up to his eyes, shaking her head. Opening and closing her mouth a few times she swallowed hard, "I.. I don't know sir, she... she was just here. I only went to tell someone to inform you and then walk down to the dining hall to get her something to eat. I don't understand how she..." 

Moving into the room he saw the IV line on the bed and her discarded gown on the floor. Narrowing his eyes he pulled back the curtain of the next room and saw a male laying in bed, his head wrapped in bandages. Looking to the table he saw the man's clothes gone. She had taken them, she was impersonating an officer. Growling he walked past the nurse and out to find the omega he planned to make his. 

Marching through the streets he snapped his eyes ot every officer he saw, scanning their face. She was injured so she shouldn't have been able to get far but truth be told she shouldn't have been able to even get out of the hospital. It had been almost a week since he had found her and since then she had been out cold. The doctor on his ship had told him she had been lucky to be alive. Along with a gunshot wound to her thigh that had caused her to loose much blood she had many broken ribs and the wounds on her wrists from the cuffs had already begun to get infected. She had been kept on antibiotics and pain medication to help her catch up on the rest her body obviously needed. With all of that he couldn't lie that he was impressed by her determination and will but that changed nothing, she would be his. 

Continuing to look for her for sometime he was beginning to get frustrated when he heard his name being called and turned to see a petty officer running towards him, the young boy stopping to salute him. 

"Vice Admiral Sakazuki, you are to report to Fleet Admiral Kong sir." the young boy said. 

Sighing he nodded his head and watched the boy make his leave. Giving one last look around he grit his teeth, he hoped she wouldn't find her way off the island before he got finished attending to Kong. He still kept a look out for her the whole way but to his disappointment she was no where to be found. Knocking on the Fleet Admiral's door he heard the male's deep voice and opened the door. What he saw made him freeze. Kong was sitting behind his desk, his large arms crossed and his face as serious as always. Occupying the long couch in front of the desk was none other than Vice Admiral Garp and Admiral Sengoku. Between the two large males, sitting with her arms crossed over her chest and a hard glare on her face was none other than the little omega he had been looking for. Meeting her eyes he saw a fire in them that was willing to battle with his magma. 

"Take a seat Sakazuki, we have much to discuss." Kong spoke and watched the male close the door. 

Walking over to sit in one of the two chairs on either side of the couch he looked again to the omega and saw her give him a heated glare before she turned her head and looked towards the window. 

"I will take it this is the 'surprise' you encountered while on your mission?" Kong asked. 

"Yes sir." he spoke. 

Humming he looked to the girl. "Would you like to tell us how you became a captive of pirates... Y/n?" he asked, noticing Sakazuki's brow twitch just the slightest amount. 

Remaining silent you continued looking out the window until you heard Sengoku speak from beside you. 

"Go on Y/n, tell the truth." 

Sighing stared out at the sea, "Got caught trying to sneak off their ship." you grumbled. 

"What the hell were you doing sneaking on a god damn pirate ship girl?! Didn't I tell ya to stay on that island and behave yourself?!" Garp yelled, smacking the girl in the back of the head. 

"Ow! I told you I didn't want to stay there! It was boring as all hell!"

"That was the point you little shit. We put you there because you would have been safe..."

"Safe my ass old man the slavers started coming around more and more. If I hadn't left when I did they would have found sold me to the dragons then and there!" 

"So you thought that you would do what y/n, hitch a ride with pirates to the next island and then go along your way? What then? What was your plan then?" Sengoku asked in that disapproving voice of his. 

"I don't know, just keep moving I guess." you shrugged, looking down to your lap. 

"Well look how well that turned out?" Garp scoffed. 

"You should be grateful Sakazuki found you when he did, if not then those pirates would have no doubt sold you to the highest bidder by now." Sengoku added. 

Continuing to ignore them you opted for looking out the window. "So what now, you all just drop me off at some island again?" you growled. 

"No." It had been the first time he had spoke through all of this and he saw as the omega....y/n's eyes snapped to him, a confused look on her face. 

"Sakazuki?" Kong asked. 

Looking over the omega he felt a strange pull towards her and blinked before directing his attention back towards the Fleet admiral and raising his chin. "I choose her, she will be my wife." he spoke in a deep voice. 

Shocked by his sudden claim you felt your mouth fall open a bit before an anger filled you and you let out a growl, "Go fuck yourself asshole!" you snarled. 

"Y/n! What have I told you about using that kind of language. Ladies do not.." Sengoku started but you cut him off. 

"I ain't no damn lady!" 

"Well that's for damn sure..." Garp grumbled

Listening as the three on the couch went on bickering Kong held the young vice Admiral's eyes for a moment, reading him. Taking a deep breath he looked back to the three and blinked. "Go wait outside with her. Sakazuki and I need a moment alone." 

Seeing Garp and Sengoku stand on either side of you and feeling them grab your arms you shook them off and stood on your own, stomping out of the room. 

Once they were left alone Kong leaned back in his chair and looked to Sakazuki. "You still have time you know, to choose a wife. Your promotion to an admiral has already been decided but it will not go into effect until the end of the year that gives you plenty of time to look around." 

"I do not need to look any further. I choose her." he said affirmably. 

Closing his eyes he thought on the matter. "You found her Sakazuki, by law the omega is yours to claim but I will warn you that she will not submit easily." 

"What is her story?" he asked. 

"We don't really know. When Rocks was defeated ten years ago Garp found her chained up at the bottom of on of his ships, she was just a child. She was badly beaten and half starved. She doesn't remember anything about her past other than the fact that Rocks had killed her entire village. From what we figured he took her as a pet or trophy of sorts. She hasn't ever opened up about her time on the ship and from the shape she was found in she may never. Once she was treated here for a time and her body healed she started to show signs of an omega and we made the decision to hide her away. I am sure you are aware of the Celestial Dragon's obsession with Omegas, most are taken from their families as soon as they show signs and sold to them. Given her past we knew she would never make it if subjected to that kind of treatment." 

"Do you know how old she is?" he asked. 

"No. We guess she was about eight or so when Garp found her and from what she could tell us Rocks took her when she was around five."  Kong told him. 

Grunting he saw Kong open his eyes and look to him. 

"You are certain, you know you will not be able to change your mind once you claim her?" The fleet admiral asked. 

"Yes sir." 

"Very well." he said with a sigh. 

Watching as Kong called for Garp and Sengoku to come back in he saw Garp currently holding onto Y/n's forearm as she hit and kick at him. 

"Let me go you geezer." you growled. 

"Geezer?! Keep on and I'll..." 

"That's enough." Kong spoke. Looking to the young woman he saw her giving him a hard glare. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly, "Y/n, you will marry Vice Admiral Sakazuki."

"Like hell I will!" You roared. 

"It is not up for discussion!" he yelled, stopping her and both other men from speaking again. 

Breathing heavily you looked to the Fleet Admiral and then to the large alpha male sitting in the arm chair with his arms crossed. When he stood and walked over to tower over you, you lifted your eyes to actually look him over. The hood of his white hoodie was still drawn, a cap still on his head and a deep scowl on his face. 

Looking down at the omega he rose his chin and smirked at the look she was giving him. This would be interesting.

@lawlerek​

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Caterwauling in the Rain

Summary: Marinette and Adrien share their very first kiss after their very first date. Chat is so overjoyed he’s ready to burst into song, albeit not all Parisians share the sentiment. Ladybug comes to investigate the complaints about a feline caterwauling in the spring rain. Luckily, it’s just her very wet boyfriend. A Miraculous Writer Zine​ story.

A/N: This is my piece for @mlwriterzine . I’m so happy I can finally share it! I feel honored to be among the chosen authors. I want to thank everyone, who made this zine possible, it was an amazing adventure! Make sure to read works in the zine collection, they're all a m a z i n g !

AO3

The whisper of wind in his ears, the tap of boots on the tin roofs, the pigeons nesting among the chimneys, cooing to the spring in his step. Chat Noir ran high over the streets, reveling in this late April evening, basking in the fading light of day. 

 Everything in his path was blooming recklessly, fueled by sunshine, turning the warmth of spring into an opulent palette of greens, whites, yellows, pinks, and every other color one could think of.

 It wouldn’t have been far from the truth if Chat claimed he floated on the breeze. It certainly felt like it. Butterflies, the good kind, not the evil purple ones that’d been giving them so much grief, fluttered happily in his stomach. His chest swelled with affection as if it tried to contain all the smells and scents at once.

 His heart was so full he was ready to burst into song any second now. And snugly pressed to his chest was none other than the bravest, prettiest, awesomest, and the most amazing girl he knew. The love of his life, sans the spots. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. His Lady. His girlfriend. His everything. 

Her hair tickled the exposed skin under his chin, but he was too focused on carrying his precious cargo to utter a chuckle. It was her who giggled happily instead. 

 “I really could have gotten home myself, silly Kitty,” she murmured to his sternum. Only his enhanced hearing allowed him to pick up the words over the rush of air and the buzz of traffic. 

 “A gentlecat always walks the lady home after a date,” he countered, allowing a little bit of flirt to seep into his voice.

 A date! he thought excitedly, his heart skipping a few beats. The very first real one, official and everything. Not that anyone paid attention to two goofy teens sharing an ice cream, walking down the banks of the Seine and doing all the carefree, silly things teens did. Bantering, picking flowers, playing tag just because. Holding hands, stealing glances, blushing. Basically half of Adrien’s bucket list went down on that date, more than he could ever hope for. It was still very fresh—the romantic side of their relationship, just like nature herself, coming to life with spring—yet he doubted the excitement of enjoying her company on both sides of their masks would ever ebb.

 Alas, their time had run out all too quickly. For unfathomable reasons their parents set a curfew and warned them not to break it. Yet Adrien refused to leave Marinette to return home by herself. He announced his arrival at the mansion, claiming he was exhausted after a busy day, and dashed off to his room. The door barely had time to close behind him when Chat Noir was already leaping through the window. He scooped Marinette into his arms and vaulted them high and away from the prying eyes of pedestrians. Just a little run and they were already on the little balcony of 12 Rue Gotlib.

 It wasn’t dusk yet, although darkness already settled over the city thanks to the rain clouds that flocked from the west, keeping the last rays of spring sun to themselves. A silver half-moon peeked tentatively over the rooftops, picking up the slack. 

 Unexpectedly the sight filled him with nostalgia. “Anything can happen at half-moon,” Chat recited absently. He didn’t remember where he’d heard the verse. 

 “Anything?” Marinette frowned in confusion. After all, they had just spent a delightful afternoon together. Why would his mood turn wistful so suddenly?

 He decided to play it off. He grinned cheekily. “Like maybe … a kiss?” 

 He was pushing his luck, he knew. They hadn’t reached that milestone yet, still tiptoeing around each other after the accidental reveal, still testing the waters, although neither of them was oblivious to the other’s feelings anymore. 

 To his astonishment Marinette fixed him with a coy smile and threw her hands around his neck. She climbed to her toes. “Maybe,” she whispered, her lips a hairbreadth away from his. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight. 

 Chat released a ragged breath against her mouth. He shuddered from head to toe as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His body screamed for her, longed for her presence. But he wouldn’t dare to make the first step. He always followed her lead. He had to be sure it was what she wanted, even if he knew it wasn’t in her nature to tease him like this. 

 And then Marinette was kissing him. Sweetly, tenderly, with just a hint of passion simmering underneath. The gentle caress shrunk his world to just her and this moment.

 He was sure he died, his heart flatlining out of sheer euphoria, his neurons fried from overjoy, his body coming apart at the seams. He floated to heaven and then her kisses brought him back to life. Back to the warmth of her embrace, to the flowery scent of her skin, and to soft kisses he knew he would never have enough of.

 All too soon she withdrew, leaving his lips tingling and cold. He stumbled, dizzy with love in his heart and springtime in his lungs. 

 She must have thought he was being dramatic, because she ruffled his already wild mane.

 “Goof,” she giggled. “Go home, before you catch a cold.”

 “A cold?” He knitted his brows. “Why would I catch a cold now?”

 “It’s raining, you dork.” Marinette bopped him on the nose and turned her hands up. A few plump droplets splashed on her palm.

 Huh? How long did that kiss take? He hadn’t noticed when the rain started. Either those clouds had been moving faster than he’d thought, or he might have been more distracted than usual. Lately he tended to get tunnel vision in Marinette’s company, tuning out everyone and everything while soaking in her presence. 

 From behind the deck chair Marinette produced a black umbrella. She pressed it into his claws. “This is no dew, Kitty. It’s going to pour heavily soon.”

 “Really?” He chuckled. She walked straight into this one. “I’m purring already, my Lady.” He grabbed her hand and put it to his chest. Then he released a rumble worthy of a thunderstorm.

 “Besides, where I stand, the sun is shining all over the place.” He dropped the cheesy line with a flourish.

 “See, you’re already delirious,” Marinette replied matter-of-factly. “Also, yes, I’m very proud of you for getting the ‘Singing in the Rain’ reference, you dorkasaurus,” she added, seeing his pout of indignation. “Now go, before you get wet for real.”

 “Didn’t you mean furrrrr real?” he started, but dropped it immediately when she set him with one of Ladybug’s finest glowers. “A kiss good night, purrrhaps?” he asked hopefully.

 Marinette grabbed him by the bell with such force, his hand slipped on the umbrella’s handle. She pressed her lips to his, but with more fire than sugar this time. 

 Snap! The black canopy sprang to its full size, startling them both.

 “Sorry! Sorry!” Chat exclaimed, but Marinette just shook her head, launching into a fit of laughter. It was impossible not to join her.

 “This umbrella is absolutely terrible,” she wheezed, clutching at her belly. “The ultimate killjoy.”

 “You mean this is …” He trailed off, finally giving the umbrella a thorough look. Sure enough, he soon found the loopy ‘Agreste’ carved into the handle. “Oh, wow,” he whispered reverently. Marinette had mentioned the significance of that first rain they’d experienced together.

 “Yup. And I want it back, mind you,” she added. 

 “This is an Agreste umbrella. You’d need to marry me for the name to check out, Princess.” Chat shot her with a toothy grin.

 “Did you just propose on the first date, Adrien?” She raised a brow. “You might want to save something for the second one.”

 “Ooops.” He feigned a horrified gasp. Incidentally, that absolutely had been on his bucket list. This was Marinette after all. “I’m gonna have to google some new ideas. But anyway, your answer would be …?”

 Marinette shook her head again and thrusted her hand into his face. “You’re impossible. Just go home already before we both catch a cold.”

 Right. He hadn’t noticed her shivering in the cold evening breeze, and the rain probably wasn’t helping. 

 “As you wish, m’Lady.” He bowed. “See you tomorrow?”

 “Tomorrow it is, my Prince,” she replied with a curtsy, raising the imaginary fabric of a long dress with her fingers. Then with one last playful wink, she disappeared through the skylight. 

 Chat sighed in contentment, drawing in the chilly, humid air. He didn’t feel even a little bit tired, more like ignited after the spectacular afternoon of romance, flirting, and banter. He leaped to the railing and elongated his baton so that it hit the pavement. Then, like a leather-clad Mary Poppins, he floated down, startling a few passersby. 

 “Du-dudu-du, du-du-dudu-dee-dudu,” he hummed under his breath, setting into a leisurely stroll. The rain picked up a heavier rhythm, just like Marinette predicted. 

 “Du-dudu-du, du-du-dudu-dee-dudu.” He continued letting his inner Gene Kelly come out and play. He always wanted to perform that song, ever since he’d watched the movie with his father ages ago. And what better place to do so than the Parisian streets, a classy background to the classic number?

 He already felt the tune bubbling in his throat. He couldn’t contain it any longer even if he tried. With a theatrical shrug he folded the umbrella and propped it against his shoulder. His lips stretched into a dreamy smile when he set off again. Then came the song.

 “I'm siiiingin' in the rain, just siiiiiingin' in the rain.” His voice carried over the street, earning him a few confused glances. He gave his audience a little wink. 

 “What a gloooorious feeling, I'm haaaaaappy again,” he claimed, jumping onto a lampost. “I'm laughing at clouds. So daaaark up above. The sun's in my heart ...” Chat’s smile turned into something more smitten as he gazed upon a certain balcony looming in the distance, “… and I'm reeeeeady for loooove.”

 “Let the stoooormy clouds chase everyone from the place.” He waved at a couple making their way through the rain, hiding under an already-soaked newspaper. They chuckled at his antics and clapped, rewarding his performance. 

 Encouraged, Chat turned his face to the sky while throwing his arms to the sides in a truly musical fashion. “Come on with the rain! I've a smile on my face!” 

 He resumed his walk, nonchalantly swinging the umbrella in large circles. “I walk down the lane, with a haaaaaaaappy refrain. Just singing, singing iiiiiiiin the rain.”

 Chat spotted a few phones aimed at him and chuckled inwardly. People always looked for a scoop. Alya was going to be so angry she missed this. He could almost hear her gritting her teeth. Let's give them a show, he thought as his feet carried out the routine, a mix of waltz and tap dancing. 

 “Daaaaaancing in the rain,” he howled. “La-daaaa-da-da-di-daaaaAAA. I'm happy again.” He grabbed the umbrella as if it were a ukulele and struck a chord, making an elated face, as if he were Luka’s more handsome twin. “I'm singin' and dancing in the rain.”

 More tap dancing followed. Chat finally found a way to release all the pent-up energy that had come from the afternoon spent with the love of his life. He tapped, he stepped, he pirouetted, for his joy and for the entertainment of a significant crowd that had gathered to witness his performance. The umbrella was his partner, his pendulum, his microphone and staff. Oh, how versatile a prop this was! Chat leaped like a very wet ballerina, jumped over the puddles or right into them, frolicking in a totally unfeline manner, splashing the water onto himself and all around. A reckless, unstoppable dancing and singing machine.

 Slosh! A wall of cold water washed over him, effectively ending the show. He wiped the liquid from his eyes only to see a very familiar red-clad figure holding a polka-dotted bucket, which must have been the source of his unexpected and involuntary shower. 

 Concern marred Ladybug’s face. She breathed heavily—she must have been running fast to get here. But why did she have to be such a … what had Marinette said? Ah, an ultimate killjoy.

 “Why did you go and do that?” he complained, frowning in accusation. Water dripped from his soaked hair right into his ears. Both pairs. 

 Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him. “The neighbors were complaining about some caterwauling felines and I decided to investigate in case there was an akuma,” she said. 

 Chat shook his head, trying to get rid of the ear leak. “Well, was there?”

 His partner raised a brow and smirked, taking in his drenched form.

 “Oh.” It suddenly dawned on Chat that maybe performing a musical number in a city regularly haunted by mind-controlling villains wasn’t the best of ideas. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, then shivered. “I’m cold,” he added.

 “Awww, poor kitty,” Ladybug cooed. She relaxed her shoulders, no longer alert. “I need to take you home.” She tangled her yo-yo around a chimney, grabbed him at the waist and in the next moment they were already soaring over the streets. 

 She stopped on a roof a block away from the mansion. Her timing was perfect, as usual.

 “AAAACHOOOOO!” Chat’s sneeze was so powerful Plagg flew out of the ring, taking the leather suit with him. The little kwami didn’t look happy in the least. 

 “Awww, shucks.” Adrien trembled. “Now it’s even colder.”

 “You don’t say,” Plagg grumbled. He was dripping wet. 

 Ladybug sighed in disbelief. She scooped the sprite into her hand and hid him in her pigtail. Then she proceeded to lift Adrien princess style and set off in the direction of his house. Unseen and undetected by the mansion’s security system, she slipped through the bathroom window and into the warmth of his room. 

 A true hero, the epitome of helpfulness, she grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped him tight. Then, with a towel she had taken from the bathroom, she gave Plagg the same treatment. 

 “I’m gonna leave you to change and go to sleep,” she finally declared. “No more clowning!” She pointed a finger at Adrien.

 He gave her an innocent blink. Alas, Ladybug seemed to be immune to his charm. Or maybe it was just late for her. After all he had caused her to leave the dry room and investigate an alleged akuma attack. He decided to step up his game.

 “Maybe a good-night kiss?” He fluttered his golden lashes hopefully. That always got a nice fluster out of Marinette. 

 “Haven’t you gotten like two already?” she frowned.

 “Nuh-uh, that was Chat. Adrien didn’t get any,” he complained. “Besides”—he fixed her with the delightful smile of a teenage heartthrob, his voice lowering to a murmur—“three is the charm, as Lady Luck should be perfectly aware.”

 Ladybug tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Well,” she drawled, stepping closer, “you do make a compelling argument …” Then she closed the space between them.

 Meowrrr, the cat in him uttered. Three was definitely the charm.

 - The End - 

[kylo-hen]

Super Bloom Part 3

A/N: Sorry for the wait on this one, but she’s up! I’m slowly realizing my star wars encyclopedic phase was a long time ago and knowledge is beginning to seep out of my brain lmao. Hope you enjoy the extreme self indulgence in this because I have no self control

Kylo Ren X Soulmate!Reader (intergalactic soulmate AU)

Summary: Kylo takes you aboard his ship in attempts to acclimate you but how can he show you his life without revealing his demons?

Warnings: Fluff, lots and lots of fluff. Maybe 2 sentences worth of angst if you read into it.

    The dinner was in a word, luxurious, a multitude of different foods some native to this planet others from far off planets in galaxies I had never heard of. There was casual conversation flowing between the elders and Kylo about trade agreements and protection orders. Kylo and I sat side by side at the table and I tried to listen and absorb as much information I could from the discussions.

    Kylo sat confidently, comfortably, next to me his gaze intimidating and relaxed as the men and women around us worked to appease our every need. Kylo’s lifestyle had no room for wanting, if the thought passes his mind it appeared before he even needs to voice it, I wondered how far the luxury extended from his power to mine.

    As the night waned until the moon was high in the atmosphere it’s light breaking through the branches of the grove behind the dining hall, the goblets we drank had run dry, stomachs full from the variety of courses served, and all conversation lulled into peace; Kylo stood. His new position called for the rest of the room to follow in his footsteps, and soon the whole room of dignitaries stood except for me. Kylo extended his hand out to mine, similar to the stance he had in the beginning of the evening. He pulled me gently to my feet, keeping me close to his side as he announced his departure for the night, reaching for his helmet and returning to the state I met him in. The elders surrounding the table bowed their heads in respect for the man at my side and the guards surrounding the room, the ones who had flanked the man the whole day, readied themselves for their new task.

    Kylo ushered me along, keeping a close eye on me even as we walked out of the temple in their secure formation then. The streets after dark housed new beauties for the festival. Large gatherings of people performing with sparks of fire, more loud boisterous music, and lanterns strung over the main stretch of road. Many people laughing, dancing, drunk and in love made whoops and hollers when they saw us passing through. No one dared get in the way of the important men and women the temple was honoring, but their intoxicated minds must celebrate us.

    Kylo seemed particularly tense on the way back, every interaction with the crowd left his senses tense and overloaded, his instincts not ready for the bold people lining the pavement. The shadow of darkness did not allow him any relief, the nature of the city allowing for many vulnerable places for people to strike.

    His tension only melted as we approached the edge of the city, where a large ship laid waiting for its leaders’ occupation. There were men in white armor and blasters stationed outside of the ship, as a walkway descended to the ground, creating an isle up to his world. More guards in white armor descended in two lines and I wondered where they were all coming from, or if they had been waiting all day for this.

   As Kylo led me aboard his ship I felt like I was transported into a different dimension altogether. I had never been anywhere but my small planet, I had barely left the city in all my life. The sleek and simple black and white design of this looked state of the art, unlike anything I have ever seen. There are a couple more people to greet us, him, when we boarded.

     “Supreme Leader!” one of the men addressed Kylo enthusiastically, “Your earlier message made it seem like you would not be returning tonight,” his tone laced with acidic uncertainty, “We weren’t expecting you so soon.”

    Kylo’s gaze hardened in an instant, “My movements do not concern you.” He spoke to the small man who fell back into his rank surrounded by the guards behind him. “Leave us, we’ll have no petty interruptions tonight officer.” With that Kylo made a dramatic turn away from the hoard welcoming us abord, and towards the hallway adjacent to us.

     I followed him quickly, not wanting to invade his space if he was upset but also not wanting to fall behind and be lost on his ship. After travelling down a corridor for some time he came to a stop at a barren doorway that opened without hesitation.

     His room was barren to say the least, it was gracious in dimension but lackluster in any personality. The sterile minimalism extended to all parts of his ship, I wondered if this ship was his home, somewhere he spent frequently and if it was there had been so sign of him before.

    Kylo removed his helmet as soon as the door was secured behind us both, his demeanor shifting to the relaxation under the sun this afternoon. He regarded me with a smile so soft and quick I almost missed it.  I had stepped into the threshold of the room but no further, not knowing how to fit into this part of his life yet. All of my comfort that I retained from this evening had slowly melted away, and it left behind the ebb and flow of the anxiety in my stomach. I stood as still as possible, only a dew steps into his room watching as he moved with definitive purpose, exactly the opposite of my floundering worry.

    He didn’t address me until he began to remove the intricate bindings of his outfit, starting with the secures on his wrist. He looked up and saw my tense fearful body awaiting his instruction with my eyes darting all places in his room before landing on him. He stopped his pursuit of comfort, changing direction to aide my own. The cogs turned in his head for a moment, true vulnerable uneasiness passed over his features as he tried to acclimate me to his world.

   “I had one of my knights bring your things, they should be in the closet,” He started with a practical steady tone, “You are welcome to explore.” He tried with less certainty, his façade falling further with every tactic.

    “Can you show me?” I asked, not recognizing my own voice as it came out of my mouth a foreign cadence that lilted like the music in the market after dark. That lilt must have washed over him like a warm breeze because the trepidation before melted away, a smile graced his features as he moved to show me the amenities aboard his quarters.  

   He spoke softly about the room, which switches controlled which light, stopping at a bare display of buttons that he explained called droids for various services at any time. He showed me the fresher, the small space itself completely foreign to anything I had ever seen. Kylo must have found delight in my ignorance because he refused to tell me how to work the dammed contraption, opting to let me figure it out myself. When I looked up at him in protest his eyes were shining down on mine, full of a joy and passion. There was a third emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on, it was dark, misty, but not intimidating.

    He paused before moving on to show me the rest of the amenities, his hands coming to wrap around me, the first physical contact we’ve had since stepping on the ship. They snaked their way around settling on my back once I was pressed to his front. He tilted his head down, wordlessly asking for a kiss. I obliged tenfold, pushing up to meet his lips with desperation. My hands finding purchase on his cheeks.

    This man lit a fire in my bones, not being able to touch him, to hold him in my arms for as long as I had felt like walking in the desert without water. Now, with his lips pressed against mine, his large sturdy hands keeping me secure, his breathe breathing me new life, his soul intertwined with my own, I was drowning. No, I was basking in his passion for me, his need. His touch, even juvenile, had me floating far from the rest of the world.

     When Kylo pulls back I feel the lack of his heat immediately. The unpleasant contrast from the pure joy before forced a whine from my mouth before I could stop it. My hands dropping to his chest as he moves away from our tight embrace. He didn’t try to hide his amusement with a deep reverberating chuckle sliding out his lips which curled up into a light hearted smirk. His hands moving from my back to my neck, tilting my head up to meet his intense gaze.

     “Don’t get greedy now sweet girl.” He commanded softly, his gloved thumb skimming along my cheek sweetly contrasting his words.

    “I hardly think wanting a kiss from my soulmate is greedy.” I countered teasingly, fluttering my eye lashes and pushing my bottom lip out at him. His body visibly reacting to me calling him my soulmate. His cheeks flushed red and he leaned in like he was going to kiss me once again.

    His lips ghosted mine slowly, his hands keeping my head locked in place not that I would dare move when he was this close, “Say it again.” He asked, a new layer of vulnerability in play with him.

   “You’re my soulmate Kylo.” I whispered against his lips before he gently pressed us together again. Once again there was purpose, there was meaning, light all through my bones because of him. The man that deserved no less than the galaxy, and had it all and more, pressed against me in a fresher because out souls were connected to one another. I was vastly out of my playing field with this man and something about it made me feel like I was going to learn to run before I learned to walk.

    I pulled away from him this time, he hesitated, trying to regain his self-control before moving forward. His grip on my face loosening up as my hands explored his torso softly, trying not to cross any of his boundaries. “You’re…” He looked so conflicted, so lost, unable to say every thought in his head. His mind so jumbled that even one sentence was too difficult. I didn’t push him to say anything at all, he just shook his head and retreated to stand before me.

    “I need to use the fresher before we sleep.” I mumbled, sorry to be changing the subject before he could express what he was thinking. But the smile on his face made my heart shine, he welcomed the diversion away from whatever plagued his mind before.

    “I’ll lay some things out for you in the closet.” He offered, and with a swift kiss to my forehead he left me to my own devices to get clean.

    The fresher had an endless stream of hot water, I don’t think I had ever experienced anything close to this luxury. His soap smelled dark and musky like him, laced with spices that I had only smelled at the market before. The stream of water resetting my mind for the night, giving me time to realize that as enthralling as Kylo was, we needed to talk before doing anything too risqué. The steam that fogged the mirrors had cleared my mind from the soft caresses Kylo bestowed on me earlier.

    He held his promise, leaving out the set of night clothes I had packed and a towel for me. I took the time to ready myself for bed before I emerged into the bedroom. Kylo sat in the bed that looked much smaller with the large man on top of it. He had a datapad and was looking intensely down at the object. He didn’t hear me come in until the doors automatically skimmed shut behind me.

    Kylo’s eyes raked up my form only outfitted in the thin nightgown I’ve worn all of my adult life. He swallowed thickly, discarding the datapad on a shelf next to the bed an welcomed me to sit next to him. I moved slowly, not wanting to do anything that was odd to him or something that maybe only my planet did. It’s becoming clearer that he had a very different lifestyle than I was used to.

   Nevertheless, he pulled back the covers and welcomed me in his normal-sized, yet somehow small, bed. The lights overhead dimmed, but did not shut off and he laid down. At first, we laid separately, an awkward tension hung in the air, keeping us repelled from one another not wanting to break the boundaries. I made the first move, scooting closer to the middle of the bed, which was more like his side due to his large stature, hoping he would do the same.

    “I’ve never been in a bed this comfortable.” I admitted shyly looking up at him as he propped himself up to look down at me. His hand skimmed my arm softly up and down as we spoke.

    “This is nothing compared to my bed in Coruscant,” He began softly his voice lulling me once more into a comfortable serenity, “It’s much larger too, far too large for just myself.” He tested experimentally waiting my reaction.

     “Do you share your bed often supreme leader?” I asked half-teasing, half-terrified of the possible answer. He was handsome, there was absolutely nothing stopping him from taking a thousand different women before me. He could have a wife back home, he could have a concubine, I had never considered the possibility before now. My veins turned to ice while I watched him answer.

     “No,” he ended my spiral with definitive assurance. “There has not been much time for romance admittedly.” His confession is whispered shamefully into the air of the bed between us.

    “Fate has a funny way of changing your plans.” I looked up at him only to find he was already watching me, his eyebrows furrowed but his expression was curious. He was trying to find something in my features but he was not coming up with an answer. “Do you believe in fate?” I asked, startling him out of his concentration.

    “I believe in the force.” He countered, swerving around my question. I cared little about that, realizing what he said. The ancient force myths were rarely spoken of on my planet, and even more rare was it not used as a cautionary tale. The limited knowledge available at the library was biased, and my father kept many of the ‘radical’ copies out of my hands.

     I shot up in the bed, no longer able to stay peacefully laying with him, onto my knees to continue the conversation. “You believe in the force too!” I all but shrieked out excitedly, thrilled about the new avenues of conversation we could research and debate together. “My father always told me they were just old myths! He never let me put any real stock into the stories, but I knew it! If the Supreme Leader of the Galaxy believes it, it must be true!” I rambled out quite loud and quite fast and once I had come to take a breath and look at Kylo he was laughing.

     “Sweet girl,” He chuckled out, adjusting his position to a more active one on the bed, and lifting my chin to meet his gaze, “I don’t want to shock you, but I thought it was common knowledge.” He began.

      “What? The force? It’s hardly common here, no one had time for my fanciful tales anymore.” I rebutted, slightly irritated at the thought of so many people dismissing me and I was right the whole time. The only reason they dismissed me is because I was just a little girl to them. I then realized that I was probably just some ignorant little girl in Kylo’s eyes too. He was the supreme leader of the galaxy and my home planet didn’t even think the force was real. How was I supposed to be Kylo’s equal when I don’t know anything about life outside my own planet?

    “Sweet girl,” He cooed out, bringing my attention back onto him, “You were up in the clouds for a moment,” he shifted forward bringing me closer to him, “I thought you knew, the force is very real, and I am trained to yield it with the Sith lords among me.” He spoke soft in volume but hard in resolution creating an odd tone. Yet the only thing I could think of was that my soulmate, the absolute reflection and completion of myself was a Sith Lord. All the years of reading the myths, of understanding bits and pieces of these Jedi and Sith masters battling to the end of time over freedom and peace and justice now I had one right in front of me. I wondered if he could hear any of my thoughts. That brought me abruptly from my shocked state.

    “Can you really read my mind?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. His worried, and dare I say conflicted position, dropped with the mindless question and he huffed before explaining.

    “I can choose to know whatever I want about you sweet girl.” He spoke mysteriously. My excitement barely quelled by his non answer which forced me back to sitting, hoping he would elaborate. “I can enter your mind without your permission, but its painful. However, when you’re preoccupied with feelings, you project messages through the force, and I can hear those.” He explained slowly, allowing me to absorb the information he fed me by hand.

    “What kind of things have I projected?” I asked plainly.

     “In the library, when you saw me for the first time, I could hear your thoughts.” He spoke slowly with every word a new possibility for my brain to process. “Your thoughts are so pure, so strong my sweet girl.” He finished with a compliment, urging me towards him. I took the opportunity to lay my head on my chest, he countered by tracing my left hand with his right.

    “I don’t know much,” I felt the need to explain myself, “All of my knowledge comes from the books in the library, and most of is too old, or incredibly one sided.” I scoffed at the stances taken in most of the stories about the history of the Force. “You know, you’ve seen much more than I have, more than I ever thought possible.” I mumbled into the chisels of his chest.

     “I’m glad you’ve not seen what I have seen.” His voice holding secrets from demons he had yet to exorcise from his head. “I can’t promise that I tell you everything now, nor can I promise that you’ll like what I have been in my past. I can’t-“ His voice was shaking, his eyes glossed over with the look of a thousand defeats passing through.

     “Will you love me?” I interrupted him, shaking him from the dark road he was heading down, “Will you love me? And be loyal to me? And be patient while I try to learn?” I countered with the love that I knew was imprinted in my soul and matching on his, I don’t need riches, or adventures, or galaxies bowing down at our feet. The universe gave me this man for a reason, and I wasn’t going to give up because of his past. “Will you try?”

    The last one seemed to get his attention, his striking gaze hazed with unshed tears matching my gaze of unwavering support, “Yes.” He answered simply. Agreeing to not be a different man, but to be himself and try something new.

     “That’s all I need from you.” I reassured him, laying back down on his chest, listening to his heart beat calm slowly from the anxious beats before. His breathing slowed immensely, leading me to believe he could be asleep, but the lights weren’t quite off, nor were his hands quite still.

     Just as I was drifting off to sleep, in the odd stage of awake and away his voice rumbled through his chest, had I not been using him as a pillow I’m certain I would have missed it. “Marry me?” it was soft, a timid ask from the man that lay beneath me.

    “Kylo?” I called out, mostly looking for clarification. It wasn’t odd that he wanted to get married to me, not at all. Most couples, after finding their soulmate, got married quickly, not wanting to part from one another. My sister married her soulmate within a week of meeting him, my parents within the month. It wasn’t odd for me, but from what I knew that was hardly the case outside of my world. I didn’t want him to ask for my sake, I wanted him to ask because he wants to marry me.

     “I promise I will try; I will be patient and teach you what you want to know, I will be loyal to you, I-“ he broke off, his voice faltering, but regaining it’s strength, “I will love you.” He stated, confident in his own feelings for the first time. His fingers stilled on my back, waiting for my response.

     “I will love you too Kylo.” I spoke softly, gripping my hand on his arm, bracing myself to look at him. He looked terrified, vulnerable, but he saw me and he looked happy.  “I will marry you.” And despite the long days ahead, and the seemingly endless amount of things I had left to learn about the world that lay before us at our feet, all I could think about is how quickly the man had taken every part of my heart and soul by storm.

    I am completely and irrevocably his and he is completely and irrevocably mine.

[thirsthourdemon]

The beast in the garden

Includes: Aone Takanobu

Genre: Nobility!Au, angst, smut

Warning: Nsfw

Note: Okay so I’ve had this idea for a while now and I just couldnt find what I wanted to do with it but now it’s hear so please enjoy 😔

“Oh nobu!” the young miss whimpers at the force of the man pushing into her wet sex. Panting and whimpering at every movement. The pleasure sinking into her and she grips onto his shoulders. Y/N had never anticipated such a scenario before she met the “beast”.

Once there was a young miss inside an isolated mansion in the woods owned by her her parents, the lord and lady of the land. She was a beautiful girl with a cold gaze but such a warm heart. Y/N was given almost everything she could ask for! Shoes, books, beautiful jewelry and wonderful entertainment...all that could be hers but the one thing she had craved for the most was so out of her grasps. Freedom.

She was given everything except the freedom do go outside. She was secluded and kept like a beautiful porcelain doll, too pretty to even play with. The lonesome lady wasnt even allowed to walk their entire garden because the north part of their garden had a “beast” as the servants would tell her. Fearing the beast she stayed with her gaurdians at all times and barely left the mansion at all.

“What flowers are these?” Y/N asks her tutor showing the beautiful image of flowers in her book. “Chrysanthemums, my young miss” he replied sparing her a glance and going back to look at the book he was reading himself. “They mean devoted love and loyalty it says” Y/N’s voice so sweet and filled with admiration of the flora. “I hope one day someone will give me these flowers instead of roses...”

“Beautiful, arent they? You have them in your garden as I remember”

The male informs, flipping another page in his book

“Huh...maybe I should go pick some later tonight” was all she had said before she stood up and excused herself from their reading session.

That late afternoon the young miss asks her gaurdian to bring her to the garden to pick chrysanthemums only to be told that they only grew at the north of their grounds. The home of the beast she remembered coming to the conclusion that it would be best not to try and go at all. The whole afternoon it bothered her to no end.

Learning more and more about the flower and finding how it could be made into tea and how sweet it would taste. The chrysanthemums deeply explained what type of love she wanted. The young miss had countless suitors but all of them brought her the same red stainedroses over and over again until the roses didnt feel so red anymore.

She wanted those flowers no matter what but the servants themselves were too scared to get some and not being one to force others she decided she must take matters into her own hands.

As the moon came into view that night she had retired early to her bed chambers and told the servants to not let anyone in no matter what for she was not feeling well. Waiting for the moon to reach it’s peak the young miss had already climbed out of her window and tip toed her way to the border to the garden up north.

At the highest peak she hurridly went in looking for the beautiful flowers only to realize that this garden was the most beautiful one of all. It felt as if the fae themselves lived here. The moonlight fully illuminating the garden before her. Well kept grass and full bloomed flowers sparkling by the reflection of the light on the dew drops.

Before her eyes was the most beautiful garden and the most dangerous one as well thinking to herself. With every step she took however she did not realize how late it had been. Forgetting her reason for going all together and walked around the garden as well. There was no sign of the beast at all...not until she felt movement from the otherside of the rose bush. Quickly backing away...”Oh lord I forgot the chrysanthemum!” The young woman exclaimed hurridly looking for them and as she was about to pick some that she found there was suddenly a feeling of a presence behind her.

Fearing her safety she ran back as fast as she could and even forgeting the cloth she wore around her shoulders. Running fast and not even sparing a glance behind her. Almost sobbing and fully terrified she couldn’t even climb up to her window again.

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Bubump bubump bubump she heard her heart beat almost out her chest. Foot steps along the grass.

Was this her demise?

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Why was she always so weak that she could not even fend for herself?

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Why did she have to spend her life locked up in such a dull household?!

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Why could she never stand up for herself?

Clomp. Clomp. Clomp.

Why did she have to experience death without experiencing what it meant to be alive?

The foot steps have stopped in front of her. Feeling the heavy beathing and warmth of the huff from the monster. This was it...looking up she was greeted by a tall man with albino like features being graced upon the cold light of the moon. Somehow it had taken her breath away but then again it would be her last breath.

He didnt say anything though he just presented her something. Her shawl. “T-tha..nk yo..uu? B-...Beas...t, sir” stuttering and shaking of fright while grabbing her shawl back. “Young miss-“ “I-I...I...Ughhh...I apologize! I didnt mean to steal from your garden, sir! I just wanted to get some chrysanthemum! I swear I wasnt going to destroy anything!” Y/N interrupted trying to save her skin not knowing the intention of the man.

“Beast? Takanobu Aone. Im not a beast, young miss” deep and warm was all there was to say about his voice. Hearing his voice felt like the feeling you get when one drinks warm tea in a fairly cold morning. Comforting and soothing. His features were strangely soft for a monster. His eyes seem to be squinted but his eyes were plastered with concern and confusion.

“I- but the servants said there was a beast at the northern grounds!” Her soft voice no longer trembling at the sight of him. Shrugging the man had gestured for her to wait as he emerged back into the garden. Confused the young miss was troubled about everything that she had just discovered.

There was no beast all along. The house was meant to keep her in and not keep the beast out.

The albino like man stepped into view once more however he did not returned empty handed. He returned with a small bouqet of familiar light coloured flora. Chrysanthemums.

“Th-thank you! I-I...I really...ehhh...ummm... appreciate them” a warm feeling arose to her chest when she got the small gift. Aone nodded and started walking back to his home. “Umm...Sir Aone- Let’s meet again! B-back at the...the...y-...your...your garden when the moon is at it’s highest peak again!” Y/N nervously suggested to him and all he did was walk back to pat her head as a confirmation before jogging back.

There wasnt a beast.

Soon enough the young miss would barely wake up by 8 am, her usual waking hours, and it had troubled her gaurdians asking her questions like why was she up so late or why she had trouble waking up but before they could interrogate her even further she would only excuse herself.

Night by night Y/N went back to meet the mysterious nobu figuring him out little by little like she was building a puzzle with a thousand pieces.

He was quiet but his small actions made up for it. Things like talking all night and conversing about ridiculous ideas were always one sided however staring into the nigth sky with her head on his lap or making small flower arrangements for the young miss...those were when he was the most charming in her eyes.

Eventually the two had become great friends and both felt a strong connection to one another more than anything. Aone Takanobu was a beautiful being. His gaze was cold but it also had tears glossing over them whenever he looked at her. His touch maybe rough and yet it would soft enough having her hand in his.

He didnt pay any attention to her status or the amount of wealth she possessed because for him at the end of the day he only saw her for who she was.

Likewise she had already built the puzzle of who nobu was and it turns out it was just as wonderful. Growing to like each other much more spending more time in the gardens just to escape a little while-

“YOUNG MISS! Get away from that monster!” Her tutor’s voice exclaims when he saw the lovely child snuggling up next to aone by the bushes. “You! You are to not lay a finger on her anymore! She is too fragile and too weak! Have you no mercy! What are you even doing tainting her with your disgusting commoner-“

“Quiet. You dont have any right to insult her” nobu growled looking at man with a calm expression on his face. “She is neither fragile nor weak” he stands up and takes your hand to help you up. “N-nobu I-“ with that he just shakes his shakes his head slowly side to side and leaves the young woman with her tutor.

That night the young lady was scolded and ultimately gaurded with a handmaiden to watch over her and having her window locked.

He did not expect her to be there that night and he was correct. That night and the night after that and the following nights that would follow but all he could do was wait by chrysanthemums until she would eventually show up.

Many sunsets have passed and the incident was forgotten as everything had come back to normal. That night however the beast could no longer be patient and wait for the young miss to come back so he took measures into his own hands.

“When will I see you again...nobu...” Y/N talked to the withered flowers in the vase shet set by her desk. For all the time she spent indoors again she could never forget his face or his warming presence whenever she snuggled up to his chest. Suddenly russtling from the tree by her window had interrupted her thoughs.

If she hadnt felt his presence in that moment she was sure she would have been screaming at the top of her lungs but Y/N already knew who was trying to get into her room just from hearing the sound of the movement. Opening her window and there he was. Tall, albino features, covered in leaves and holding a small collection of different coloured chrysanthemums.

“You know chrysanthemums actually mean loyalty and devoted love” the no longer lonesome lady giggled picking up some of the leaves by his clothes.

“I like you, nobu and I know it’s crazy because we only met a month ago and I dont know what to do or what to say but Im sure that I like you”

Waiting for a reply. Silence and anticipations.

Tension and a full display of worriedness crossed over her face. Only for all of that worry to disappear the moment their lips connected. It was a kiss filled with nothing but love and longing for each other.

Taking a break and having their foreheads leaning towards each other. The beast of a man took her in his arms and carried her off the ground. Staring into one another’s eyes. Speaking a million words in silence. Those “I love you”s that only eyes could say and those “I want you”s that can only be tasted within their liplocking. Slowly their want and passion had slowly translated into the way their skin had dragged against each other.

Sitting the tall man down on her bed as she carefully and ever so teasingly stripped her night gown down revealing her beautiful body. Her body covered in imperfections had made her the most perfect human being in his eyes. He couldnt keep his hands to himself as he stood up and touched her sides while kissing her forehead.

That mere moment of innocence was soon erased by a passionate kiss and as the moon had tried to reach its highest peak the two lovers only evolved into more skinship.

Kissing and nimbling on the soft skin of her neck while gently massaging circles into her inner thigh. With her underneath him he could only imagine what he could do. Her pretty tears reminding him of the dew drops at the garden and her small noises resembling those of the night’s music.

His wet and hot tongue had travelled to her untouched pot of dripping honey. Licking in one agonizingly long stripe upwards. “Agh...gods” she huffed trying not to lose herself completely to the pleasure. Once he had started licking her entrance the only sound she could have ever made was whimpers that she so badly tried to cover. With her legs trembling and her eyes half open she had felt him stopping to grab a bottle of oil by her mirrored desk. While the liquid had poured of to his hands he started to pump his incredibly large member. Soon lining his member to her entrance.

“N-nob...uu...it m...aghhh...might not...FIT!” Y/N gripped on his shoulder once he had entered. Carefully he tried to soothen her so she wouldnt be so nervous. “Mhhm” kissing her forehead and allowing her to adjust his large size.

At once the young miss gave the beast her signal he thrusted into her creating a certain rythm so that both of them could slowly ease into it. That was soon thrown out the window once they both paced faster makiing the sweet girl cry out in pleasure.

Wet kisses and hair sticking to the forehead. The sound of skin slapping against each other through the night and small whimpers of “N-no...bu...” had only prolonged

“Oh nobu!” the young miss whimpers at the force of the man pushing into her wet sex. Panting and whimpering at every movement. The pleasure sinking into her and she grips onto his shoulders. With every time his member had hit that sweet soongy spot inside of her it had built her up so much that once the wave of pleasure had washed over both of them at the same time they had both decided to lay in bed for a while.

The albino like beast stared into her eyes noticing that small request of freedom. “You know chrysanthemums actually mean loyalty and devoted love” He remembered your words and at once stood up. He took the chrysanthemums from the ground and swore to her “I will love you devotedly and loyaly”

“Then follow me wherever I may go”

That night as eventful as it was for the two...had only left the household in panic.

Once the sun has risen and the servant that had to wake up their miss up entered the room only to see the room completely tidy as if no one had used the night before. There was no young miss and there was no beast. Only an empty bed with a bouqet of chrysanthemums.

Taglist: @janellion @my-mass-hysteria @anianimol

[faangirl101]

Revolution pt3, spec ops guys x reader

PART 1      PART 2

Pairings: Alpha/tank x reader,Riot/reader

Warnings: pain, violence

Authors note: I was thinking about making a taglist! Write to me if you want to be on it!

The sun peeked inside the curtains, creeping across the walls like dew down a leaf a spring morning. I groaned when it finally reached my face, leaving a greenhouse warmth inside the blanket wrapped around my body. Finally well rested, more rested then id been in weeks, i sat up. With a hunched back supported against the headboard. Hesitant, i moved the white blanket off the rest of my body. I hissed for myself as i saw the clear evidence of green and blue smattered like paint across certain spots. I with care slid my fingers across it, remembering the feeling of rubber bullets drilling into my skin. i shook off the thought and let my hand travel up my thigh. There was other marks, red and shaped like a garlic clove. I smiled and tried to hold back the shiver. The nights more pleasant activities started playing over in my head. Hands against wet tile, his hands gripping my hips. Head leaned backwards, stars moving around my vision. How riot did not only give me the best orgasm in my life, but also cared for my wounds, handed me painkillers and let me sleep with a kiss on top of my forehead. The feel of lips burned on my head and i bit my lip at the thought of seeing him again. And tank.

My stomach immediately dropped at his name. His scolding was not a pleasant memory. I decided to not think about it more, not really longing for the weight of anxiety in the depth of my stomach. I threw my legs across the side of the bed, dangling my feet for a second before placing them on the ground. With some hestiance i got up, realizing that the pain had gotten better. Well not better, but easier to handle. I ignored my head begging me to go back to sleep as i started limping down the stairs. I was met with an inviting smell. Coffee.

The previous anxiety was long gone as i tried not to squeal in the happiness. I loved coffee. "Is it okay if i take a cup?", i asked as i took the final step into the kitchen.The man in front of me was not Riot. He had a pale complexion but there was a tint of something else then white. His hair was short, a brown newly woken up mess on top of his head. His figure was giant, stretching up next to the cupboard. There was only so many tall men in this house. Tank, i supposed, jumped at my voice. He looked in my directions, the earlier droopy sleepy eyes turned into green orbs of anger? He really hated me.

"Sorry", i mumbled, fiddleting nervously with the long black t-shirt riot had given me the day before "i didn't mean to startle you".

He made a motion i could really only place as rolling his eyes. "yeah take a cup, you're our guest after all", there was venom in his words, spit out against me making my heartburn. Burning in rage, i wasn't really known for my self control. "Hey", i pointed a finger at him like he had the previous day "i don't know why you hate me, i have not done anything to you". He looked shocked at my outburst before quickly collecting himself. "I don't hate you", he didn't even look at me "i just don't understand why you have to be here. The fact that you suck at protesting, is not our responsibility". His eyes turned away from me finally got to me. I grasped his wrist, hard, and pulled him so he was facing me. He looked down at our skin contact with an unplaceable emotion mirroying behind his light eyes. His skin was hot against me. For some reason he was so inhuman in my eyes i didn't expect body warmth. "I wanted to make a change!", i snapped, still not dropping his hand "okay! I felt useless just signing petitions and rolling my thumbs, i wanted to make a change". His face softened into a expression rather pleasant on his face. Now, with his full attention on me i actually had time to get a good look at him. He was handsome, freckles spread across his nose, full lips a straight line. His jaw was tensed as he watched me search him. "That's why me and Riot protest, we know what we're doing. That's why people like you stay at home", his words were hard but his voice was a different tone. Humorous. He dropped my hand and the sudden forced activity in my shoulder made me hiss in pain. He looked me up and down, eyes staying a bit longer on the bruises on my legs. He opened his full lips half way, something passing by his mouth. For a second i thought he was going to add something but instead he pursed his lips together and turned his back against me. That was the end of our short conversation i supposed. Like walking over glass i sneaked to one of the cupboards, lifting down a cup and moving back to the coffee machine.

Tank's presence in the room was intimidating me. I held my breath as if i was a kid playing hide and seek. My heart was pounding so hard that my body must think i was being chased. But i was still, in a kitchen with a mug tightly clutched to my chest. I gulped down the loud breath threatening to escape as i started pouring the coffee. I watched the coal pitch black liquid swapping up the side of the mug, mesmerized by something so simple. I tried no to shake too much when i put the can of coffee back, feeling tanks hot eyes on me. "What's your name?", the sudden question startled me to the very core. I was surprised i didn't drop the mug. "Y/n", i had my back against him. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how nervous i was. He hummed, either in a positive manner or mocking my name. It was hard to tell. "So.. you're going to go home and roll your thumbs and sign petitions now?", i got the sense that his statement was a subtle way of throwing me out. I pursed my lips, knowing deep down he was making fun of me. For not being able to protest.

Fuck him

"I'm going to protest", I sipped the coffee, enjoying the warm bitter taste on my tongue. I heard him sign "yeah, Riot guessed you would say that". I couldn't hold back the aggressive blush at the mention of Riot, glad that Tank couldn't see my face. I needed to see Riot again. I needed to touch him again. I suppressed the warmth rising in my chest with another hot gulp of the beverage in my hands.

)(

"Where's Riot?", i tried to sound nonchalant, as if my heart wasn't currently pounding violently. I could already see the protests in the distance as i pulled up the ski mask a bit so i could get a good breath. Tank was moving next to me, large as ever. I looked so ridiculously small, pathetic next to him that it made me angry. "He's on another protest, we move protests by following a schedule. We can't be seen together. Do you know what that means?", his question caught me off guard. I zipped up my thick hoodie enough to cover the last piece of visible skin. "Um", i didn't really even understand his question. "Hey", he snapped and grasped my chin to roughly turn my head to his direction. He had to lower down to talk down my face "Since Riot can't be here to babysit you, he left you to me. I'm going to actually make a change, and you sit still and quiet and don't make a sound, capish?". I lifted my head to strain against his grasp "doesn't that work towards the whole point of protesting. Stay quiet? You're not taking away my voice to fight the power i hope? Tank". I pushed his name past my lips as if it was a curse word. He stayed quiet for so long i started regretting my words, thinking of ways to save myself. He dropped his hand, wiping his helmet "watch it, baby". I knew deep down he was simply referring to the fact that he was babysitting me, but the nickname made a wave of heat creep over my body. I had to run to keep up with Tanks longs legs, ignoring the familiar feelings rising in my body. I did not have time for that.

Some time had passed. The police had put up a good defense even if the protester won over them in numbers. My number one priority? was first: protest for the rights of black lives. Second?, proving to Tank i could protest. In the beginning i had stayed pretty close to him but i had thickened the distance when i realized that his area was far too difficult for a riot beginner. Instead i had moved to the first aid hut placed in the center where new protesters was rushed by minutes. I didn't know much about rioting but knew one or another thing about taking care of wounds. So after an hour of pouring milk down tear gassed throats and stopping flowing blood from busted noses, i had forgotten all about Tank. Well, until he was limping over to the hut. One hand tightly grasped around his forearm. Despite all our previous painful words i rushed over to him.

"Shut up", he mumbled before i could even get a word out. Annoyed i pushed him down a bench with a huff. Then, with more care then he deserved, i slowly intertwined our hands in order to lift his hesitant hand from the wound. I tried to ignore the horrific sight of the left remains of a crushed glass bottle in the blood splattered wound. I didn't even notice i let our hands stay intertwined, maybe because the gloves hid his body warmth. But he noticed, his eyes stayed on our hands in his lap the entire time. Every time i pulled out a glass shart he hissed and tightened his grip on my hand. I couldn't hold back the two rapid heartbeats rising. Something about the closeness, yet the distance between me and Tank was..... interesting to say at least.

"There", i mumbled, softer then i had ever been to him. He didn't curse at me, or make an unpleasant noise. He stayed quiet as our fingers slowly fell apart. I wondered what face he was making underneath the mask. Was he angry? Upset? Happy?. In my mind, he was half smirking. But i had been wrong many many times before.

I turned my head when there was loud yelling behind us. A police officer was hovering over the medics i had worked side by side with today. "You have no right to be here", the pig spit, using his body frame to intimidate the smaller black women in front of him. His height didn't scare me, i mean i had spent the night over at two extremely large mens house. "Hey!", i didn't realize it was my own voice until i saw heads turning my directions. I could feel Tank fumbling out his hand to hold be back but i had already moved across the asphalt in long steps. "We're not protesting. We're helping people, that's not illegal. We're not blocking any roads.Sir", i knew everyone in the crowd could hear the venom behind my words. The cop looked stressed, he was sweating like a scorched pig. "Listen here, girl", he grunted "i suggest you take a step back". I fought the urge to smile, knowing it would infuriate him even more. I looked down at our shoes before lifting my head to meet his eyes, mostly for dramatic effect. "Or what?", i bit my lips hesitantly.

Well it was the last thing i had time to do before the hardback of the baton was flying down my side. I doubled over, groaning in pain. But i didn't have time to feel sorry for myself. I saw in the corner of my eye how the police lifted his baton once again. Before thinking it over i grasped the baton mid air, ignoring the burning sensation in my hand and muscle tissue. The police face fell, but my lifted. In the gods. With the force i didn't know i had, i pushed down his own hand to his face, the baton knocking him out cold. He slumped down in a pile beneath me. The hoards of people around me was yelling in harmonie, it was like gospel to my ears. Hand clapping, boots stomping. Tank was on my side in time for another pair of claps. But the tight grip on my arm was threatening. I gulped down the rising anxiety. I had just attacked a cop. Attackled a officer. Me, who cannot kill a bug. "Lets go", Tank growled and pulled me hard to his side.

[aceademic]

Chapter 2 & 2.5 of Band on The Run

Feel free to bash me intensely. Here is Chapter 2 and Chapter 2.5 (mini chapter) from the one and only liz! Enjoy!

Chapter 2

“You see that one?” Mom whispered in my ear, pointing to the far east.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“That’s where your Dad is,” she said. I turned to look at her. She had long and flowy dirty blond hair and the most intricate hazel eyes I had ever seen. There was a sort of glint in them, nostalgic and sad but also . . . wistful. The way she looked then, it made me almost believe what she was saying. Almost.

I gave a small pause. Unsure. “Is that so?” I asked eventually. Pops had told me that the doctors said that Mom developed selective amnesia because when my Dad ran off on her, it was too hard for her to deal with. So now she’s delusional with the idea that our father was a man from space that had to go back to his home planet. She never gave a reason why, her answer to that question was always, ‘He’s not gone forever. He’ll come back. He always does.’

“Yeah,” Mom whispered. “And when he does we’ll take the car out to the fields and sing Brandy at the top of our damn --”

“Geddup!”

I jolted upward and blinked, realizing it was just a dream and I was not at home, but in fact, in a spaceship. My heart sunk to the very depths of my inner ocean of self-pity as I pulled on my jacket.

“Give me a minute!” I answered. I heard rustling and saw Peter climbing out of the small bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Clean yourself up and meet me outside, okay?”

Peter nodded sleepily and I left the room, closing the door behind me. And there was standing Kraglin. He was wearing the exact same thing as yesterday and he look as fresh and awake as morning dew.

“Mornin’,” he said awkwardly.

“What’s going to be our orders?” I asked him, jumping straight to the point.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’ll have to find out yourself when we get to the hull.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his second-in-command or whatever?” I asked dubiously.

“Just cause I’m his first mate don’t mean that he tells me everything,” he answered. “He’s a very private person.”

“I’m ready.”

Peter must have slithered his way to my side, because the door was now ajar, and Peter’s hair was slightly less mussy than it was before. I ruffled his hair anyways.

  I stared in amazement as we entered the hull. The walls had veins that pulsed an eerie, vivid red and the walls were a dark, shadowy grey. Chairs, consoles and neon green screens surrounded me. In the chairs were all different types of aliens talking in headsets and taping the consoles, speaking to each other in a language had never heard before. Alien technology scattered the room, and my gaze set upon the crowd of crew members standing by a window with a breathtaking view of the peace of space. They seemed to be staring, whispering and pointing at me and Peter, as if they had never seen a human before. Some frowned, some seemed curious, and some made me want to punch them repeatedly in the face – or faces, because apparently some aliens have two heads.

Kraglin led me to the back where everyone was, and kindly guided us to the back corner where we would get less weird looks. After a few more of the crew hurried in, I noticed Yondu, sitting on a big, comfy captain’s chair, staring down at us all.

“Everyone, meet your new crewmates, Avery and Peter Quill!” Yondu shouted, holding an arm out in our direction. Everyone turned to look at us. So much for being discreet.

“I thought we were giving them over --” a man started, but Yondu shushed him, very loudly might I add.

“I don’t want another word out of your mouth Horuz, or I’ll scrub it clean in the canteen,” Yondu hissed. Some of the men snickered and the other went immediately silent, looking absolutely furious. “If you don’t like how I run things around here, you can get your skinny ass up and leave, you hear?”

It seemed that either no one heard, or no one wanted to leave.

“Good.” A pause. “Gef, Yorker, I want you in the training room. You’re getting to fat for my liking. Retch, Halfnut, Scrotch, I want you on canteen duty. Oblo, Narblik, Huhtar and Tullk, I want you on hallway duty on deck 10 . . .”

The list continued, and as he called out names, people left the room to go to their assigned stations until it was just me, Peter and Kraglin.

“Kraglin, I want you to show them littles around the ship and when you’re done, I want them to go to Rof’in in the training room. He’ll know what to do.”

Kraglin nodded and led us out of the hull. “All right, let’s start with the tour. There are 10 decks in total. Right now, we’re on deck one, all the way at the bottom.”

He started show us around the first deck. We passed the brig, which was where I was kept when I was unconscious, and we went into the hold, muster station, and a small saloon. I made a mental note of what each room was and its purpose. We continually went up, going through the quarterdecks (two whole decks just for where the cabins are), the training room, the turret (which I have to admit was pretty cool), medbay, the promenade deck, the canteen, multiple saloons, the galley, the escape hatches and small bays holding random equipment and such. One oddly contained a whole assortment of mini figurines (most of which were broken).

As we made our way back to the hull, Peter’s stomach grumbled. Kraglin and I both looked at him. I had forgotten I was hungry. I had forgotten that we needed food. For the glorious bliss that was 1 hour, I had forgotten that I was kidnaped and that my head hurt and that my mother was dead and pretended that my good friend Kraglin was showing me around a spaceship. The fierce rage of fire that roared inside me returned along with a loud grumble of my stomach.

“We can stop by the canteen on our way back to the training room,” Kraglin offered. We both nodded hungrily, and I wondered what aliens ate. Probably not grilled cheese.

When we entered the canteen, it was mostly empty except for the people who were working there, cleaning dishes and mopping the floor. No one looked up. There were refrigerators nailed into the wall, full of silver packets and water bottles.

“We don’ get fresh food often, so we eat these,” Kraglin told us, opening a refrigerator door and pulling out 2 packets, turning them over to read something on the back. “Today’s Flicodian tentacles. Should have a similar taste to – what’s that meat thing you eat?”

“Chicken?” Peter asked. Kraglin shook his head.

“No, no, it started with a T.”

“Turkey?” I asked. Kraglin nodded. He walked over to some built in cabinets and pulled out two bowls, opening the packet and squeezing out what looked freeze-dried octopus tentacles. He went over to a nearby tap, and filled the bowls up, sticking them in what looked like some sort of microwave. When the timer beeped after a minute, he pulled the two bowls out, releasing a hearty aroma that did indeed smell a lot like turkey, and Peter and I found ourselves sitting at the long tables in the room, scarfing down the tentacles as if they were our last meal. Kraglin watched in amusement. I put down my fork.

“What?” I asked. He jumped in surprise, and suddenly the wall became very interesting.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. I shrugged, and continued to shove food down my throat, ad sat back happily when the last remnants of food were gone, and the bowl was empty. Back then, I didn’t notice the pink tint that haunted his cheeks.

  Chapter 2.5

Nebula kicked the punching bag. She kicked it again. Her father had given her another mission. And she wasn’t sure she would be able to complete it this time. At least she had Gamora to help. She kicked the bag again. Gamora wasn’t going to help. She would ruin her chances of ever completing it to keep up her status as most-favorable child. The star, his little-one. Nebula started to punch it repeatedly and finished it off with a roundhouse kick. It flew off its chain, and Nebula huffed, grabbing a bottle of water from the corner. She ignored the green alien with blue hair leaning against the doorway.

Nebula didn’t like the hair. This was the 5th time Gamora had attempted dying it and now it was a dark, ocean blue. It didn’t suit her.

“I know your upset with me,” Gamora said. She entered the room, her arms folded across her chest. Nebula gave another little huff, but other than that she screwed the bottle cap onto her bottle without a glance and went to pick up the punching bag.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Gamora said, her voice tense. Nebula turned to look at her with furious eyes.

“There is always a choice,” Nebula hissed. A ray of sunlight hit Nebula, and the silver prosthesis on her head glistened, causing Gamora to look away. “You had a choice not to fight me. To stand up to our fath – to him.”

She corrected herself. It was still hard for her to call him her father, the man who had slaughtered her family, her brother, her entire home planet. He who called her weak and worthless and forced her into impossible missions that almost always caused her to have to team up with Gamora, that back-stabbing wench of a sister. He who ripped out her eye for simply not besting her sister in a fight.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Gamora mumbled, grabbing her arm subconsciously. Nebula broke eye contact, grabbing the punching bag and attaching a new clip onto it, attaching it back to the screw in the ceiling.

“Did you need anything else, sis?” Nebula added a sneer on the last word, making Gamora’s stomach wretch horribly, her brows furrow and her heart twist.

“No.”

It was a lie.

[orangepeelers]

it’s you

my boys go to the beach and are a little very slow on picking up hints

***

Remus awoke to a text from Sirius.

As he saw his name on the screen, excitement bloomed in his stomach and made his toes curl. He felt elated for a brief moment, before forcing himself to punch the feeling down into the recesses of his mind. He couldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He wouldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He’s just your friend, he reminded himself. 

His heart didn’t really get the memo.

Remus rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced over at Peter’s sleeping form. The four of them were staying at the Potters’ beach house, spending the hottest days of the summer eating ice cream on the boardwalk and swimming in the ocean. He hated that despite the fact that Sirius was in the room next door with James, a text from him could still have such an effect. 

He unlocked his phone to read the text, anxiety and excitement mingling in his chest. Hey Moons. I woke up a little early today. Proud of me?

Remus grinned and rolled his eyes. Sure I am Pads. Of the four of them, Remus was the only early riser, a fact which he never let them forget. He found Sirius’ gesture endearing, if a little strange. Waking up early was so out of character for him. 

His legs jiggled nervously as he awaited a response. He couldn’t help but wonder whether his waking up early was for a specific reason. Running through his head in an attempt to tamp down his overactive imagination was a constant stream of shutupshutupshutupshutupshut-

Wanna go for a run on the beach?

Remus’ fingers moved of their own accord. Sure. Breakfast at 3 Broomsticks after?

Of course!! See u in like 2 seconds. Love u Moons 

At the last three words, Remus’ heart did a little skip rope routine. He knew it was just Sirius being Sirius, but the words still found the nooks and crannies of his brain and filled him with warmth. They stoked the fire of false hope he had burning in his mind, like vodka on their weekly beach bonfires.

He got dressed quickly, overthinking between his choice of old t shirts before settling on one from some event his parents had organized. Taking care not to wake Peter, he crept to the door and stepped into the hall, easing it shut. Sirius was already in the living room, long hair tied up into a ponytail. Black strands framed his face, bouncing against his cheekbones as he turned to look at Remus.

He flashed the grin that Remus had pictured so many times while trying to fall asleep. “Moons! Ready for our run?”

Remus smiled back. “Shocked that you have this much energy this early.”

Sirius shrugged, still smiling. “I was just in a mood today. C’mon!”

The two walked out the door into the oppressive humidity of the east coast. The orderly streets full of pastel-colored beach houses were quiet in the early morning, the people inside still sleeping off the previous day of swimming and sunbathing. Sirius immediately stripped his shirt off, tucking it into his waistband.

“Fuck, it’s hot.”

Remus pretended to shake his head in disapproval, but his eyes were tracing the sloping lines of the other boy’s biceps, wondering how it would feel to wrap his hands around them. He swallowed the thought before also stripping his shirt. Sirius grinned cockily.

“And I thought you were judging me.”

Remus mock-bowed. “Why, never!” 

They started running, following the unpopulated streets to the beach. It wasn’t too far, and when they got there the sandy plains were mostly empty except for a few people walking. A bubble of laughter and conversation surrounded them, disrupting the early morning silence. They ran along the beach, listening to the waves lap against the shore as they sun came up. By the time they got to the Three Broomsticks, they were soaked in sweat and panting hard.

Sirius pushed his hair off of his forehead and mopped the sweat with his t shirt. “Hell, I’m never waking up early again.”

Remus laughed. “Hey, what about Belgian waffles?”

Sirius considered the waffles for a moment. “Hmm... You do make a very valid point. Maybe I’ll do it once more. As a treat for you, of course.”

They laughed before slipping their shirts on and going inside. The Three Broomsticks was Remus’ favorite restaurant on the boardwalk. The inside was quaint, with blue-checked tablecloths and pictures of patrons and vintage posters lining the walls. Natural light streamed in through the big windows facing the beach as a few other early customers ate and chatted. The brunch rush hadn’t started yet, so they were able to get a table close to the big windows.

Remus studied the boy sitting across from him. His eyes were gray and studious as he read the menu, with a hint of mischievous humor, like he might order blue eggs and burst into laughter before the waiter could say anything. Dark hair fell across his face before he pushed it back, still reading through the list of pancake varieties. 

Sirius glanced up before Remus could look away. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something in my teeth?”

Remus just smiled, hoping the flush of embarrassment would be written off as a result of their run. “Just wondering why you’re reading this more intently than anything else I’ve ever seen you look at.”

“Hey, I take my breakfast very seriously, Moons.” He pointed a finger at him, pretending to be stern. “And you should too. It’s an important part of the growing boy’s regimen.”

“Okay, okay.” Remus put his hands up in surrender. “But I know you’re just going to order what you always do.”

“I also like routine, Moons.” Sirius said, shaking his finger before returning to the menu.

A waiter walked over and introduced himself before taking their orders. 

Sirius pretended to think. “I think I’ll have... Chocolate chip Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.”

Remus shook his head at him. “I’ll have the same.” See, told you so, he mouthed. Sirius just rolled his eyes and smiled. 

The waiter took their menus and walked away. Sirius turned his full attention to Remus. “So, Rem. Lily tells me you have a little summer romance up your sleeve.”

Remus’ heart beat double-time. He’d confessed his crush to Lily, because he just had to tell somebody and he trusted her to keep her mouth shut. Technically, he supposed, she hadn’t told Sirius, but his legs bounced nervously like his deepest secret had been discovered.

Remus laughed awkwardly. “Well, I guess you could say that.”

Sirius cast an analytical look before sinking back into his chair. For a moment, Remus swore disappointment flickered across his face. Impossible, he reminded himself. Silence hung in the air thickly.

“Well, not quite a romance. More like useless pining.” He amended. He met Sirius’ gray eyes, and for once, they were unreadable as he studied him across the table. 

“Well, I think anyone would be lucky to have you.” Sirius said sincerely. “You should tell them. Who knows? They might feel the same, and you can have an actual summer romance.”

Remus smiled, a little sadly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He studied the tablecloth intently, a heavy layer of quiet laced with tension settling over them. They each pretended to be very interested in the cloth napkins.

Sirius cleared his throat, a little awkwardly, trying to break the tension. Thankfully, their waiter arrived with two plates stacked with thick waffles and glasses of fresh, bright orange juice. The arrival of food dispersed some of the binding silence and conversation flowed again as they dug into the hot, crispy-yet-soft waffles. 

They finished up their meal and paid the bill, setting out to walk back to the house. It was about nine, which was still relatively early in beach time. A few people were laying out towels and umbrellas on the beach. The sun was properly up, beating its hot rays down on the morning and dispersing the dew. Sea breeze carried the scent of salt as it ruffled their hair and scattered their laughter. 

As they got onto the more quiet streets, their conversation turned, once again, to talk of summer romances.

Why does he keep bringing this up? Remus thought. The last thing he needed was a reminder that the person he wanted most in the world was unattainable. The constant thought hung about his head like vines in a jungle, and he didn’t want to see those words personified as Sirius rambled on.

“I was really hoping this summer would finally be the one where I wasn’t afraid to speak my mind.” Sirius’ clear voice led Remus back to their conversation. 

A lump formed in Remus’ throat as he nodded. “Me too, honestly.”

They walked side-by-side, spilling out a little onto the lawns of the houses. Remus saw Sirius glance over, almost nervously, as he continued. “Yeah, I’ve sort of had this major crush on someone for a while. But I’ve never been able to tell them.”

Remus laughed, a little bitterly. How ironic that they were each in the same situation, yet Remus knew that Sirius could get anyone he wanted. He probably hadn’t told this mystery person because he wanted to see how long he could drag it out. Not that Sirius was cruel, but he couldn’t see any situation in which he simply couldn’t tell somebody he liked them. It just didn’t make sense. 

“Well, I think you should tell them.”

“Yeah?”

Remus swallowed thickly. What matters is that he’s happy, he reminded himself. All the useless pining in the world didn’t give him a right to impede Sirius’ happiness, or decide who he dated. “Well, if you’ve liked them for a while, then either they’ve figured it out or they’re too stupid to realize. Either way it would be a push in the right direction. And, you’re Sirius fucking Black.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Remus pushed him lightly and smiled. “You know what it means, you egoistic dolt. Like you told me, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Sirius smiled faintly, as if adding Remus’ words to a mental list. They continued walking until they were about a block from the Potters’. By now, Peter and James were probably being woken up by Mrs. Potter opening curtains and humming. Remus smiled to himself at the thought. He looked over at Sirius, who was deep in thought, brow furrowed. He wished he could see what the other boy was thinking.

All of a sudden, Sirius stopped. He grabbed Remus by the hand and pulled him so they were facing each other. Their chests were bare inches from each other, which Remus was hyper aware of as he looked down into his face. He was a few inches taller than Sirius, and being so close made that feel like a few feet. He could feel his soft breath as they looked into each other’s faces.

Sirius’ gaze was intense as he took a deep breath. He was still holding onto Remus’ hand and he gave it a subconscious squeeze, as if trying to gather confidence. They stood like that for several seconds until either of them remembered to talk.

“What-”

“Rem, I-”

They laughed a little breathlessly. Remus seriously thought that his heart would explode. All he wanted was to close the distance between them. But he restrained himself and settled for saying, “You first.”

Sirius hesitated a moment, before resolve hardened in his eyes. “It’s you.”

“What?”

“You’re the summer romance person. You’re the person I’ve liked for a while.”

Remus blinked. The words floated around his head before he was able to string them together. All he could do was stare back at Sirius, unable to believe what he was hearing. He felt like a fish gasping on a dry dock, unable to suck in air to form words. “I- um, I-”

Sirius stared back, expression alert as Remus floundered for words. Finally, he was able to peel the letters from his throat and force the sentence out. “It’s you too.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, as the realization of their words settled around them like snow. Slowly, Sirius placed his hands on Remus shoulders, the around his neck, fingers tracing the muscles there gently. His hands shook Remus out of his stupor and he pulled Sirius closer, hands on his waist.

Then Sirius kissed him.

The kiss was everything a kiss should be. Deep in his stomach, Remus felt the same excitement from earlier in the morning return a hundredfold. Sirius’ mouth was soft and sweet from the waffles. They were so close, bodies pressed together despite the summer heat. He felt like a body of stars, constellations blooming on his skin wherever Sirius touched him. Adrenaline raced through his body as Sirius pulled back to look at him.

He smiled, softer than Remus had seen him before, a smile just for him. “I’d say this is my summer.”

Remus smiled back, hands intertwining behind his waist. “I’d say so too.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Wedding (Part 2): The Bride of the Dragon Lord

Coughs. 

Enjoy. @rurifangirl by request

The lights dimmed over the entire venue and the music started to play the Pas de Deux of the White Swan. Soft white lights illuminate the stage and the image of a huge moon rising over Tokyo sweeps majestically over the bridge to the vigorous sound of a harp. There, standing on the bridge in this glorious celestial light, is a small, ordinary looking man with an umbrella. He seems to be waiting alone for someone.

Even though he doesn’t move or speak, there was something pathetically sad about his manner. His eyes are slightly downcast and his shoulders are lowered. The wind machines turn on and blow artificial cherry blossom petals and rustle his black ponytail. But he doesn’t move. He stands like a crane that has lost his mate.

This is the groom, Chime Gen.

From your vantage point, you can see his face more closely and your heart falls in dismay. His face is lighter than it should be and the way the stage light falls on it, he should sparkle with dew. But Chime doesn’t hold his head in the light. Instead, it is downcast, and the resulting shadow makes what should be a face vibrant with light, pale and hollow, like a corpse that has risen from the grave.

Chime has put on makeup, the make up he used when he was Ruri Kazama, perhaps in an attempt to imitate him. Despite your encouragement, he didn’t believe you felt anything for him. He was a smart man, and you just didn't know each other that well. He was also prideful in a way that was insecure. He couldn't bring himself to believe that you would love anything about him. You were here for the evil spirit, not the man whose body it inhabited.

This wasn’t right. If you couldn’t reach Chime, nothing would work. You whisper urgently. “Z… if you can hear me… please, send a message to Chu Zihang. When I reach the top of the bridge, set off the sprinkler.”

You straighten your back and raise up your head. As you walk out into the light, the crowd gasps. Your beauty is unparalleled as the light of the moon sparkles endlessly on your jewel-laden gown. Your face glows like the face of an angel. Your horns look more like a crown. 

Chime raises his eyes to you and stops, breathless and a little frightened that this is the woman he should swear his life to. You didn’t belong to him. He didn’t belong here!

You take slow careful steps toward him until you meet in the middle of the bridge and stop. You don’t say anything and the silence stretches on.

You glance to the side looking for Chu Zihang but you don’t see him. Gosh, Z, you have one simple request and you don’t even have the courtesy to…

A wave of heat blasts from above! You don’t see where Chu Zihang has hidden himself, but the sprinkler above your head lets loose a sudden shower that drenches you, your hair and your dress. The fabric clings to you and makes you feel weighted to the spot.

In the shower of the heavy downpour, Chime’s make up is washed away, revealing the clean pure face of an ordinary person.

Chime is shaking and trembling. He had wanted to wear this makeup to make himself look like the man you really loved. This sprinkler incident was an unparalleled disaster!

“I didn’t come here for him, Chime… I came here for you.” Your voice is projected to the entire crowd. This wasn’t scripted. This wasn’t the vows you were supposed to perform. You didn’t know much about love other than Caesar’s instructions. The Gen brother needed your support.

“Why…? I don’t understand.” The water was frigid and he shivered.

The audience stood in rapt attention. This was by far the strangest wedding ceremony they’d ever seen. A beautiful woman falling in love with an ordinary man was the stuff of dramas after all. The people in the audience were among those who saw the MC Love Contest where the hottest guys in the world sparred for the affection of one woman. And even though Ruri Kazama was declared the winner, he was not the one standing at the bridge.

Instead was this man who didn’t seem to understand why he was getting married to this woman. Was this really a real wedding? Were they supposed to be soaking wet? The water was starting to pool on the stage and run over, forming something like a river for the bridge to cross.

You remember how Chime spoke of Chisei in glowing terms despite his undeniable flaws. That’s why you were here. This whole setup was for this purpose. But Chime was so wrapped up in self-hatred and self-doubt that he’d forgotten the whole point! You close your eyes and sigh. “Because you value family more than anything else. You’ll give up everything. To you, all the power, all the riches, all the prestige, and every virtue are rubbish when compared to family. A relative is the closest person to you in this world! What is the world compared to the people closest to you? Isn’t that what a woman should look for in a man? Why shouldn’t I marry a man like that?”

Chime stood still, stunned speechless. He never thought that his love and devotion to his brother should be a good or attractive quality in himself. For this love, he’d fallen for the King General after all. People doubted he could ever reconcile with his brother. That cold eyed girl had told him it was a hopeless task. But you loved him for it?

You could see it rising in his eyes, the belief that maybe this wasn’t a dream, maybe it wasn’t all an illusion. The umbrella slipped from his hand and stumbled in a wild spinning arc to the floor. When the audience looked back up, you had embraced in a kiss. Someone whooped in surprised joy.

 His lips were soft and caressing. His whole body vibrated with fear. This was supposed to come later. The kiss was the cue to attack. But Chime could no longer wait and became bold out of desperation to seize something precious that could finally be called his. So he lingered, drawing the kiss out beyond propriety, enduring in it. When he broke the kiss, you both paused as though listening, but there was no woodblock. There was nothing for several seconds. You stare into each other’s eyes. Waiting. You mouth the words, “Trust me.”

No one in the audience moved or spoke as the solo violin and the harp carried you through it. And the stage lights went down.

The audience roar washed over you and the lights came back up. The sprinkler had shut off and the Takamagahara staff were cleaning up under the bridge. Both of you stand bewildered.  In that moment the spell was broken and you were back in the real world. The King was supposed to show up. He was supposed to sound the woodblock! Where was he?

How could he miss his cue?

You exchange brief glances. A man stood up in the audience and both of you recognized him. It’s Chisei! You follow his figure as he walks away from the wildly applauding audience and makes his way upstairs.

Chime turns and looks at you. “I have to go see my brother.” His smile is genuine, loving. He was like Ruri Kazama but different. Ruri was darkly romantic, attractive but in a dangerous way. Chime’s love was pure as wind-driven snow.

“Wait.” You catch his arm.

“I’m not going to wait. The King will be here at any time. I have to go now!”

Over the sound of the applause, the sound of sirens ripped through the night. A high decibel sound passed from station to station. Someone pulled the air-raid siren, and for ten seconds, the ear-splitting sirens echoed throughout the large city of Tokyo.  Air-raid sirens are the most serious of city alerts, and using them meant that it was too late to warn the public via television and radio, and that danger could strike in a heartbeat.

You both tense on the bridge looking around. Chime’s eyes were wide with terror. “It’s him. He’s here!”

The people partying on the dance floor were also startled by the sharp sound of the air defense sirens. Everyone's cell phones rang at the same moment, and the ringing converged into another terrifying siren call.

Chime was trembling, his chest rose and fell like a terrified animal. He whimpered and looked around. You catch his face and force him to look at you. “You’re safe. Stay with me.”

“No… No you can’t protect me!”

There was a loud sound coming from the east, booming as if it were thunder like no other. It was really the sound of the ocean. Shinjuku district is about ten kilometers away from the sea, how can you hear the sound of the ocean here?

People on the floor started screaming. “Tsunami! Tsunami!”

The ground was shaking as if a herd of thousands of elephants was running through the streets. The giant crystal chandelier on top of the dance floor was shaking violently like a pendulum. The women in their thin high heels were trembling and shaking together with the glass wine glasses on the table.

You and Chime cling to the dangerously swaying bridge. You couldn’t even stand up on it, much less walk! You reach out for Chime’s hand and you grab hold of him. 

The giant crystal chandelier fell in the middle of the dance floor. Broken crystal fragments splashed in all directions, cutting the skirt and body of the girl next to it.  The image of the great moon behind the bridge suddenly fractures as the wall behind you reveals a crack crawling up its height. Water smashes through like a sledgehammer and slams into the bridge knocking it from its supports. You scream and Chime howls as you suddenly plunge down to the lower stage and are swallowed in thousands of gallons of rushing water. 

Your dress is heavy and catches on the swirling debris. But the fabric and jewels provide some protection. All the power is out and you poke your head out of the water into a dark hall full of screaming. “Chime!” You call desperately looking left and right, but all you see are floating chairs and tables. “Chime!”

You duck your head under and feel around and a cold hand touches yours. You grab hold of it and yank upward with a mighty shout! Chime is barely conscious and spitting up water, but he was alive. You grab around his chest and support him under his arms. You try to get your bearings. Everywhere women and men are screaming and rushing to the exits. Where were Caesar and Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei? It didn’t matter. You had to get Chime to Chisei right away.

The corridor where Chisei disappeared is all the way across the dance floor from you. You step carefully in waist deep water that’s rapidly rising, working your way backwards and dragging the unconscious Chime.

Debris is still moving around in the powerful current. A person’s body floats by you. You don’t hesitate to strip it of its pistols and tuck them into your gown. You close your eyes, sobbing and gasping. The pain is now hitting you. You didn't escape the fall unhurt. You didn’t know what happened to your lower back but every movement was now agony. Chime’s head rolled against your chest.  Your bare foot struck something and pain like lightning shoots up your leg! Your cries wake him and his eyes spring open.

He looks up at you. Your face is a mask of pain but also fierce determination. His face was pale and weak. As you pass under one of the single lights that was still functioning, you can see the rising cloud of blood coming from his body. As a hybrid, you could withstand terrible injuries, but Chime didn’t have access to his dragon blood. This amount of bleeding could kill him!

“Shit!” There was no doctor! And you couldn’t find one now that the streets were a disaster! “Chime! Please! Hold on!” You beg him. 

This wasn’t happening! You expected the clapper! How in the world did the King General bring a tsunami! Just how did the man have this much power and timing? You had underestimated him. There was no need to scheme to arrive on cue when you could just destroy the whole of Tokyo on cue!

Somewhere in the distance, you hear the rapid rhythm of gunfire. The Devil Clan had arrived. The King would be right on its heels if he wasn’t here already.

“Chime. Listen. This seems bad and I’m not kidding but… I mean… It’s always this bad. But we’re not going to give up okay? We’re going to meet your brother. You’re going to live okay? You have so much to tell him!”

Chime floats listlessly while you struggle. “No...it’s over. It’s… actually better if I die here. Before the King takes me.”

“Hey! What did we say? So long as we don’t give up there’s hope! We’re almost to the stairs. Just stay with me. I hear helicopters. I think that’s probably a rescue. They’ll have first aid. So stay conscious.” 

You wallow through rising water that’s now up to your chest. The door that Chisei walked through is now in view, but your vision is starting to fade. You can see the black veins pulse on your bare arms as your dragonblood is rising to meet your body’s urge to survive. Chime is not the only one losing blood at a rapid rate.  You are too. If you pass out, you’ll drown. He’ll drown. 

When you said you would spend your life in hell with him, you did mean it. But literally? Now? You hoped that you would kill King General first. No way that guy gets to live and you don’t! You’re the Main Character! If you die, what more is there to tell! What sort of terrible story is this?

“Chime… say something.”

“Brother… I… I want to see my brother…” 

“Haha. Yes, we’re almost there. We’re almost there. Don’t worry sweetheart… or should I call you husband?” You couldn’t hide the pain in your voice. Your stomach turns in nausea. Your arms are starting to give out, but Chime could not stand up. “Sweetie. I’m going to need your help. I need your help.” You spit water that was splashing against your lips. The water was now up to your chin. “Stand up, I can’t… I can’t hold you any more.”

Amazingly, the stereo was still playing Swan Lake. Evidently the DJ had forgotten to turn the music off and had just run away. So while you struggled to survive, the royal sound of a symphony orchestra provided happy ballet dance music. It felt like a scene from the movie Titanic.

The sound was suddenly muffled and now there was only the sound of rushing water and gunfire and shouting and screaming. You thought that the water had just shorted it out, like it had everything else.

But then the dull sound of a metronome enveloped the dance floor, as if thousands of people were surrounding you, banging on that special kind of wooden clappers! The sound was coming from every speaker and it wasn’t all in the same rhythm. It was a constant dissonant clatter.

“CHIME!” CHIME!” He was shaking like someone epileptic. This was it. The moment of truth. You put your mouth close to his ear. “Hey… I love you… I love you, remember? Don’t give in to it!” 

But his eyes had already rolled back in his head. The muscles in your arms spasmed and you let him go under. You clap your hands over his ears. You’re almost to the stairs. To the corridor. But it wouldn’t matter, as soon as his head came up out of the water, the sound would come back to assault him and he’d switch again. You let him pop back up and he gasped. 

“MC! Oh, God! MC I don’t want it! I don’t want it!” He wailed. That brief time underwater in silence had provided enough respite for him to snap out of the influence of the sound. But then he stiffened again and you plunged him back under. There had to be a way to figure out where that sound was coming from. The PA system? That’s right. Whale made announcements from a system like that. But the sound booth was across the room where you were!

You feel Chime’s body tighten under the water like a curved bow stretched to the limit. A tremendous power was born in his dying body, but that power was simply beyond his control. He resisted you to breathe and came back up, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. His pupils changed between gold and black, as if two golden lights were flickering out in the darkness. 

“Chime… don’t go… Don’t!”

 A light faintly appeared in front of you to shine on the water. You turn.  It was the safety exit light flashing. You’d made it! You could go up the stairs! Chisei was right up there! You turn back to Chime who was still fighting. “Chime, I love you, don't go. Please keep fighting. Don’t give up!”

Meanwhile, the sound of the clapper just got louder.

The illuminated exit sign exploded into bright electric sparks and went out. A man was standing below the security exit, a tall man, close to two meters high.

In the man's hand, the curved metal blade pulsed with a hideous arc of light. It laughed, making a sound like a baby crying. Its entire mouth opened wide enough to swallow your head.

A deadpool! This dangerous predator saw clearly in the darkness and was waiting for you to deliver up your blood and flesh. As it turned out, Chime’s blood was no less delectable than Chisei’s. The monster’s yellow eyes lit up bright and it seemed to smile. It screamed as though it hit jackpot!

It wasn’t looking at you. It only wanted to devour Chime!

Cold pale hands reach around you and snatch the pistols from the bodice of your wedding gown. A powerful arm reaches around your waist. You’re suddenly lifted out of the water and soaring into the air! You stare up at Chime in wonder how this limp man near death gathered such strength. But then you realize in the next instant, that you’d lost.

Chime had leaped up from the water, pointed the pistol at the beast’s forehead and pulled the trigger. The force of the point blank shot knocked Deadpool back and knocked Chime back as well. The deadpool staggered into an electrical panel. Its back spikes pierced the metal panel and powerful electricity coursed through its body.  The hall was soon filled with the smell of fried fish and mercury.

Evidently, the person who had died and given you his pistol was a member of the Hydra Elites and had mercury rounds. Ruri lands back in the water, still carrying you in his arms and you cry out in pain. You could see the massive wound in Ruri’s hip that was causing the bleeding visibly close.

Chime’s eyes grew brighter and brighter. You had never seen such magnificent golden pupils, as if golden mandarins were blooming in the depths of those beautiful blacks.

He had reverted back to Kazama Ruri, the enchanting and seductive ghost who stood above all beings.

He turned his face down to you, his soaked and injured bride, and lifted you up and kissed you. His lips were burning hot and at the same time, his kiss was frigid, born more of possession than love. 

“Ruri… can you hear me?” You ask.

 "When I lose control, you won't be able to leave." He turned his head and stared unblinkingly at Deadpool's corpse.

Your voice is shaking. “Ha… didn’t I say to hell forever? I’m a woman of my word. But I’m afraid I’m going to sleep now…”

Ruri looked down at the blood flowing through his fingers, a mixture of red and black. He lifted you to his shoulder and you wrapped your arms around his neck.  There is a sudden cracking, like the snapping and popping of firewood. His bones were deforming inside his body! You can feel them moving like stones under your hand. Twin spines, like metal rods jut out from his chest and pierce you through to exit through your back! You scream in agony but you can’t escape.

HIs hand comes over your head to comfort you as you sob into his neck. “My blood will heal you and keep you stable for a while.” 

You can only cling to him helpless in pain. The heat from the bone spikes in your body was paralyzing. You can only gasp spasmodically.

“I actually wanted to go back to that town where I grew up.” He said. “But… When I got there, it was already a ruin. I have left my brother. And I will never return.”

The deadpool that was defeated suddenly got up again.  Jagged bone wings opened behind it, with purple electric light flowing from them. Water droplets passed through the pair of bone wings, carrying a large amount of static electricity, shining with a glittering shimmer.

 Before the Deadpool had time to attack, Ruri had already leaped up. The Deadpool lifted it’s metal scythe- like hand but Ruri Kazama was already kneeling on its shoulders. The weapon in his hand was a gun but every shot was a close-quarters attack, each one exposing himself completely to the enemy, and he was willing to take the biggest risk for the biggest kill. 

The first green flame flashed against the joints of the Deadpool's bone wings.  Mercury-containing shotgun shells corrode the bones at high speed. The second shot hits the deadpools shoulders, dark golden arm bones flying heavenward along with the metal blade. Ruri Kazama, you and Deadpool fell together. Ruri uses his knees to crush Deadpool's head into the water. He then leaned back to catch the falling metal blade in his free hand. The blade flashed and cut off the Deadpool's lumbar spine.

The remnants of the body are still struggling. Now Ruri used the gun against the deadpool's eyes, sending hundreds of small steel pellets soaked in mercury deep into the deadpool's skull. With a shake of the shotgun, a red cartridge dropped, greenish smoke rising from the shells.

Ruri Kazama stood there silently, watching as the water took the deadpool’s body away. He suddenly tilted his head to look up the stairs towards where Chisei was waiting. His pupils have no warmth left at all. You cough weakly but you’re not dying. Your wounds were healed. The bone spikes had created a closed system of blood exchange. Even though you were still technically going to turn into a deadpool on your own, Ruri’s blood was continually replacing yours. You can feel the pulse of his heart. You feel the strength in Ruri’s blood flooding your mind. Your muscles flex and your color returns.

Your black hair covers your face as you lean on his shoulder, completely bound. Blood is all over your white jeweled dress just as you imagined but this was far, far beyond your imagination.

Ruri strides confidently in through the hall, carrying you, his dragon bride.