#oc: [6 Swirling Storms]

[stargazer0001]

alright new iterator oc time!!! little snek fren :3

a bit of info under the cut

alright! SSS is an experimental iterator, it was made by some younger ancients who decided to try their hand at making an iterator (of course they went through proper training but this was sort of a test run for them). And this was the result. They have many exposed wires, a single arm, no eyes, and a large, snake like mouth. It sees through its overseers. It is also in what is basically chronic pain. It almost always needed upkeep because of failures in its systems so now that its ancients are gone, its just getting worse and worse. Its puppet is also in a bad condition, using its long cloak to hide most of its body because of how ashamed it is of itself. There are missing pieces, broken off chunks, and blood stains all over its body. It just keeps it head, neck, hand, and some parts of its legs clean to try and make sure that nobody notices. On a different note, its special interest is music. It could probably just spend cycles listening to music and researching its backgrounds. The music helps dull the pain of its existence (kinda sad, but thats its perspective on it)

[glamdringwlv]

Unchain my heart: Part 6. Thunderstruck.

Unchain my heart series. Logan Howlett x oc!fmale Summary: Mia Green has grown up in a lab, subjected to numerous experiments due to her status as a mutant. When she manages to escape, Charles Xavier takes her in at his mansion, giving her a new life and helping her regain her memories. However, the arrival of a new resident at the mansion threatens to destabilize everything she believed.

Warnings: Violence, foul language, a mix of various canons, X-Men movies, X-Men animated series, X-men comics.

Mia sat in silence at the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the sheets as her mind struggled to impose order on the chaos swirling inside her. Some days, the noise in her head felt overwhelming, like a storm of thoughts she couldn't silence. But it wasn't the noise that scared her most. No, what truly terrified her was the silence—the loneliness that crept in more often, as if, despite being surrounded by people, she was utterly alone.

Memories of the past few weeks flooded her mind. Waking up amidst shattered ice, frozen and terrified, completely out of control. The beast within her had emerged once again. And even though Logan had been there to pull her from the water, what happened afterward left her with an unshakeable sense that something was deeply wrong, something broken inside her. Since then, she had distanced herself from everyone, believing that perhaps isolation would keep her safe; if she could just hold it together, everything would be fine.

But it wasn't fine. Fear consumed her—not just for what she could do to others, but for what she was doing to herself. That monster inside her wouldn't leave; it lingered, waiting for a crack in her control. It was a constant battle to stay whole, to resist the wild power that grew stronger and more demanding each day.

Then, almost instinctively, her thoughts drifted to Logan. To that night when she had woken in his arms, feeling for a fleeting moment something beyond the chaos. There was something about him that calmed her, while simultaneously stirring something primal within her. A warmth that made her want to curl up closer, to bask in his presence. The beast within her purred at the mere thought of him, deepening her confusion. He had tried to reach out since that night, but every time he did, Mia built higher walls—barriers she felt were necessary but didn’t want to maintain. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down, not when she didn’t even understand what was happening in her own mind.

Logan was a threat to the control she so desperately craved, a temptation she feared would consume her entirely if she allowed it. Yet every time she thought of him, that inner monster stirred—not with violence, but with a curious blend of calm and desire, as if acknowledging his presence granted her a temporary reprieve from the internal war she fought.

If Logan was a challenge, Scott was an open wound. She had loved Scott for so long that sometimes she couldn’t remember what it felt like to not love him. Her love for him had been a constant, a certainty in a world filled with doubts. But lately… lately, everything she felt for him had become tainted. The trust she once had in him had crumbled, little by little. His inability to understand her turmoil, his blind obedience to Charles, his tendency to control everything without seeing what she truly needed—these things gnawed at the love she had felt, replacing it with doubts, resentment, and a deepening sadness with each passing day.

She knew she wasn’t being fair to Scott. He was trying to reach her, wanting to understand her. She could feel him—his constant presence lingering at her door, waiting for her to let him in, for the moment she was ready to talk. But each time she sensed him there, Mia curled further inward, unable to open up, unable to share what was really happening. And even though she knew she was hurting Scott, she couldn’t find a way to reconnect, to trust him again as she once had.

Some nights, Scott stood outside her door for hours, and though her mind screamed at her to simply lift her hand and open it, to let him in, she couldn’t. Fear paralyzed her. Fear of what he would see in her, fear that he might not be able to bear the truth of what was happening inside her head, inside her heart. Fear that once he saw her, he would realize that the person he loved was no longer there.

Mia shut her eyes, battling the whirlwind of emotions within her. It was a mix of loneliness, fear, and despair that left her drained. She couldn’t continue like this, avoiding everyone, building walls so high that she couldn’t see over them. But at the same time, she didn’t know how to stop it. Some days, she didn’t even recognize herself.

Yet something compelled her to break free from her isolation. One morning, while returning from class, she passed by the command room and overheard the team discussing details of a new mission. They were talking about an operation that even involved Logan, the newcomer they still didn’t fully trust.

She froze when it hit her. They weren’t going to include her. Mia knew why; she understood Charles was worried about her lack of control, the constant fear she had acknowledged. But that didn’t lessen the pain. In that moment, a torrent of emotions surged in her chest: loneliness, fear, and a growing sense of injustice. The best version of herself, the only one she still recognized, was found in the missions. But now, they had taken that from her too.

She considered throwing a fit, storming into Charles’ office like the time she had confronted Logan in the danger room. That dark part of her roared with pride, pulling her in that direction. She would let the professor know just how furious she was, how wrong he was to think of her as a ticking time bomb ready to explode…

She stopped short, just a few steps from her destination, and that inner turmoil stirred anxiously. No, that was exactly what she shouldn’t do. That was why they hadn’t included her—her lack of control. She took a few deep breaths, counting backward and chaining that angry thought back down inside her. She had to handle this right, carefully.

Turning on her heels, she returned to her room and carefully pulled out her suit. She examined it slowly. It was strange that even her outfit didn’t remind her of the new version of herself. She ran her fingertips over the material, praying it wouldn’t short out if she decided to use her new mutation.

With determined steps, she made her way to the hangar, refusing to stop when silence suddenly fell over the room. The conversation among the mutants faded to a hushed whisper as they saw her appear. She felt the weight of their gazes, but she pressed on. She brushed past Scott, ready to board the jet, but a hand clamped around her wrist, stopping her. She suppressed the urge to electrify the air around her to shake off the restriction that contact brought. Softening her gaze, she turned to face Scott’s visor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice tight, clearly annoyed.

Mia shrugged, feigning indifference, placing her hand over his. The contact didn’t send the tingling she expected; instead, she felt nothing but his warmth.

“To the mission. This is my jet, and I’m the only one flying it.”

She yanked her wrist away. Scott frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line. For weeks, he had tried to talk to her, but Mia had ignored him. Now, she suddenly appeared as if nothing was wrong, ready to board the jet without consulting anyone. The silence that hung between them only intensified the tension.

“Mia, you don’t even know the mission details.”

Without looking at him, she kept walking, her mind already set on her goal. No one was going to stop her. Not today.

“Oh, really?” she shot back, sarcasm lacing her words as she continued forward. “What are you waiting for? Spill the details, boss.”

That nickname. Mia had given it to tease him, using it only when they were in good mood. This time, it was laced with irony, and it struck him in the chest. Scott clenched his jaw, visibly upset. It was clear he didn’t want to argue in front of others, but her words had cut deep.

From a corner, Logan watched the scene in silence. His instinct told him not to intervene, though he felt a mix of relief and concern at seeing her. After so many failed attempts to connect with her, to understand what was going on, she was finally here. And though he wouldn’t say it aloud, something within him stirred at the sight of her showing that strength. The memory of holding her broken in his arms still haunted him.

Mia climbed aboard the jet, settling into the pilot’s seat, adjusting the controls with the ease of someone born to be there. She completely ignored Scott's persistent gaze, knowing he wouldn’t give up trying to talk her down. As she focused on the controls, she sensed someone else approaching.

“Mia, maybe Scott has a point. You can’t just dive into a mission without knowing the details. You haven’t even been to the briefings.” Jean’s voice came from beside her as she settled into the co-pilot seat.

A knot formed in her throat, and she swallowed it down. She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and turned to her friend.

“Hey, who says I don’t know them?”

Her mask nearly shattered at that assertion. She was on the verge of conceding and agreeing with her teammates, but a flicker of Logan’s thoughts broke through the noise. Maybe he was searching for her. No, that was impossible. She wasn’t even sure anyone could do that; it had to be a feeling that intensified as he stepped onto the vehicle. When she caught his gaze, it softened for a moment, and she decided to take a chance. She opened her mind, colliding with the swirl of thoughts and emotions that drew her in like a moth to a flame. She extended her consciousness and brushed against his in a subtle movement.

Can I? She asked silently, almost timidly. Instead of resisting like before, Logan’s mind seemed to yield to her touch, granting the permission she sought. She dove deep into it, and the mutant drew a sharp breath as he felt that familiar presence wash over him. Mia didn’t want to pry, so she patiently waited for him to share what he chose.

Logan wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but he brought to the forefront everything they had discussed in the command room, and a wave of gratitude flooded him. He wanted to reach out and grip the walls of the jet to steady himself, but that would betray him. He dug his heels into the floor and waited for her to finish exploring the information.

An unspoken question lingered in his mind, a trace of doubt. Why are you helping me? At first, he didn’t know, but his thoughts drifted back to the days he spent outside her door, hand poised to knock yet never doing so. He had wanted to connect for so long, and now the opportunity was right there. Mia sensed that flicker of emotion, and for a moment, she nearly withdrew from the comforting space that felt like home. Logan felt her presence more strongly now, and his chest swelled with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify. But those weren’t his feelings—they belonged to the woman who moved through his mind as if she were part of it.

When the connection broke, their eyes met briefly. Logan stood in his corner of the ship, watching silently. No words were exchanged.

“Mia, this is for your own good. You haven’t been yourself lately…” Scott began.

“I have everything I need, Scott,” she replied coldly, not bothering to elaborate.

“What the hell…?” he started to say, but his gaze shifted to Logan, who was watching her with renewed intensity. Feeling Cyclops’ stare, he held it and shrugged with a hint of a smile.

“Leave her be, Summers. Looks like we’ve got a pilot.”

Without wasting another moment, Mia powered up the engines. The deep roar of the jet filled the hangar, and the control panel lights began to flicker on. She was ready for takeoff.

“Buckle up, everyone. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.” She couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. She felt in control at last.

The flight was swift, and before they could brace themselves mentally, the landscape beneath the jet began to change. They were heading toward a base created by a group of unstable mutants fleeing their pursuers. The team had been sent to intercept them before the government or Magneto could reach them.

As the jet approached the landing zone, Scott broke the silence. “We’ll split up to cover more ground. Jean and Ororo, you go south. Logan and I will take the front. Mia, stay in the jet until we’ve secured the area.”

“Are we partners now, Summers?” Logan scoffed.

“Seriously?” Mia replied with a sarcastic tone, barely glancing away from the controls, her irritation evident. “You’re leaving me out?”

Scott didn’t hide his frustration. “We need someone in the jet in case things go south. Besides, someone has to monitor everything from here.”

Mia pressed her lips together, feeling anger simmering in her chest. For weeks, she had been trying to control her powers, that dark side pulsing within her, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Now, with Scott treating her like a rookie, her rage grew faster than she could contain.

“I’m not a child, Scott. I don’t need you to protect me.” She shot him a look loaded with frustration. “I’m here to help, just like you.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, okay?”

She opened her mouth to argue, ready to unleash a torrent of retorts, but instead, she smiled broadly. “Sure thing, boss. Whatever you say.”

The jet fell into a tense silence once everyone else left. Mia sat in the cockpit, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the controls, trying not to let the irritation bubbling inside her take over. Scott had relegated her to a mere spectator, as if she couldn’t handle a mission. A part of her knew he had a point, given her recent struggles with control, but another part—the stronger, more frustrated side—refused to accept that.

“Staying in the jet? Ridiculous,” she thought, grinding her teeth. “I could be helping, not just sitting here doing nothing.”

She huffed, running her hands through her hair as she watched the radar tracking her teammates moving across the map. For the first few minutes, everything seemed normal. Jean, Ororo, Scott, and Logan were making steady progress. After a while, two points—Scott’s and Logan’s—went still. She waited and tried to reach out to them, but there was no response.

Mia frowned, typing away at the jet’s console, trying to gather more information. Jean and Ororo continued on, but something felt off with the other two. Her suspicion sharpened. Scott and Logan were still, not moving an inch.

“This isn’t right…” she muttered to herself, her frown deepening.

Before long, concern took hold. She wasn’t going to wait any longer. Her fingers danced over the controls, adjusting the navigation system to track her teammates' signal. If something had happened, she wasn’t about to sit idly by.

Wandering through the forest, she stumbled upon a scene that left her stunned. The two mutants were seated under a tree, chained to it, each facing a different direction. Both looked unconscious.

Who the hell could do something like this?

“What do we have here? Come to see me, gorgeous?”

Mia closed her eyes, wishing it wasn’t real. When she turned, she faced one of her worst nightmares—not because he was a great foe.

“Juggernaut!” she feigned a wide grin as if genuinely pleased to see him. “What a coincidence, is this your hiking route too?”

“Always so funny, doll. It was your sense of humor that drew me in at first. Then, of course, your ass,” he replied.

“Stop, you’re going to make me blush. What about you? New haircut?” Mia gestured to the helmet covering his massive head, likely blocking her from entering his mind.

“Like it? I designed it just for you. No more mind games.”

Mia smiled again. “It looks great.”

“And what? Here to save your little friends, Mia? I still don’t get what you see in that one-eyed loser. With me, you’d have a real mutant on your side.”

“I have a soft spot for lost causes, darling.”

Just then, Scott began to regain consciousness, followed by Logan. Both tried to sit up, still dazed. Juggernaut sneered at them before turning back to Mia.

“You might want to reconsider Magneto’s offer. We could be on the same team.”

“Magneto wants me at his side?” Mia let the irony drip from her words. “How flattering. But tell me, Juggernaut, what fun would it be if we didn’t meet like this?”

Mia sensed her teammates shaking off their grogginess and decided to distract the mutant while they got free.

“I’m just saying, all that saving humanity stuff can wear anyone out. We’d be unstoppable.”

“And we’d end up with some freakishly confusing kids.”

For a moment, Juggernaut’s mind drifted to the possibility Mia suggested, and she realized she didn’t need her powers to bewilder him.

Logan and Scott had freed themselves from their chains and now stood defensively, flanking her.

“Can you tell me how you got caught by this idiot?” she asked through clenched teeth, keeping her eyes on the mutant, who now regarded them as if he wanted to charge them all at once.

“He’s a damn animal. I scratched him with my claws, and Cyclops here didn’t have time to use his visor before he got knocked out cold.”

“I was trying to keep him away from the other mutants,” Scott shot back.

“I couldn’t care less about that. This guy’s a moron, and we need to take him down.”

“Any ideas, bub?”

Mía’s mind raced as she searched for a solution. That’s when a dormant part of her began to stir, tugging at the chains she had placed to hold it back. If only she could harness her electricity the way she did when she lost control… Talking directly to that inner self felt almost insane.

“f I set you free, will you promise not to wreck everything in your path?

Silence followed, interrupted only by a subtle nudge from deep within.

If you lose control and things go wrong, more people will get hurt. Scott…

The beast inside her seemed to yawn lazily, as if that fact didn’t faze it at all.

Logan…

She felt a surge of tension at the thought of him, and that part of her twisted restlessly. Taking it as a yes, she summoned forth her darker side. The air crackled with electricity, an imperceptible hum coursing through her. Logan looked at her with curiosity, recognizing a spark in her eyes—the same one he had seen the night she fell into the lake, and again when she kissed him in her room.

“If you think you stand a chance against me, you clearly don’t know me yet, sweetheart.”

Mía grinned widely, sending a shiver down Scott’s spine.

“Tell me, big guy, how does that pretty helmet of yours hold up against a little electricity?”

He didn’t respond; he was puzzled by the girl’s words. But when he caught her smile, he couldn’t help but grin back.

“Kitty,” she whispered, using that nickname she knew irked him. “Do you trust me?”

For a brief moment, Logan hesitated, caught off guard by both the nickname and the situation. But then he nodded. His instincts told him that even if he didn’t fully grasp Mia’s plan, he needed to play along.

Scott watched the exchange, bewildered, unable to decipher what was happening between them. The implicit trust Logan showed toward Mia unsettled him deeply.

She stepped closer to Logan, her gaze locked onto him for a moment before swinging back to Juggernaut, whose arrogant grin remained firmly in place.

“Let me see those claws,” she commanded Logan, offering no further explanation.

Juggernaut laughed, brimming with his usual overconfidence.

“Do you really think those toothpicks are going to do anything to me? You won’t even scratch me with that.”

“Now”

Logan wasted no time. With a low growl, he lunged at Juggernaut, who, believing his helmet and strength were impenetrable, didn’t even flinch. What he didn’t realize was that Mía was waiting for this moment.

As Logan’s claws sank into Juggernaut, Mía unleashed just a fraction of her inner beast, enough to envelop Logan’s claws in a controlled electric surge, carefully preventing any current from hitting his own body. The air around them buzzed as the energy surged into Juggernaut’s frame. It sought an exit, but Mía directed it through his body and into his head, concentrating it there. The helmet acted like a bunker, trapping the electricity in the mutant's brain until he collapsed to the ground, convulsing violently from the shock coursing through his system.

Logan straightened up quickly, claws still extended, looking at Mía with disbelief.

“You had that under control, right?” he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

Mía, with a mischievous grin still plastered on her face, shot him a nonchalant look.

“The truth… I wasn’t sure. I was trying something new.”

Logan stared at her, unsure whether to be angry or amused. He rubbed his face, clearly relieved that the plan had worked but still surprised by how Mía had handled everything.

Scott, watching from a distance, stepped forward, still unsure how to react. He knew Mía had saved the day, but the way she did it—and her evident connection with Logan—gnawed at him.

“You were trying something new?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Do you even realize what you just did, Mía? You could have… lost control.”

She met his gaze without an immediate reply, her eyes still shimmering with the residual electricity she had released. She sensed Scott’s anger wasn’t just about how she defeated Juggernaut; it was laced with concern and a profound sense of helplessness. But at that moment, she felt a wave of satisfaction for having harnessed the very power that had tormented her in recent days.

“I had it under control,” she shrugged. “For the first time in weeks, I managed the situation.”

Logan, still observing from his spot, felt happiness radiating from her, and for a moment, he didn’t want anything to diminish that feeling.

“Chill out, Summers,” Logan said, stepping between them, his tone deep and calm yet tinged with mockery. “The girl did good. Juggernaut’s out, right? Isn’t that what we wanted?”

Scott turned to Logan, his gaze icy, almost disdainful.

“This isn’t a game, Logan,” he retorted. “It’s not about who takes down whom. You don’t understand what’s at stake here.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly irritated by the implication.

“And you do?” he shot back, stepping closer, the tension between them palpable.

Mía watched in silence, her eyes darting between the two. The atmosphere crackled with tension, and while her instincts urged her to intervene, a part of her wanted to see how far the confrontation would go.

“Enough, both of you,” she finally interjected, stepping forward with a firm tone. “I’m not some damn ball for you to fight over.”

Logan and Scott stopped, both looking at her, surprised by the strength of her words.

“Scott, I get that you’re worried, but I don’t need you hovering over me at every turn. And Logan…” She turned to him, her expression softening slightly, but still firm. “You don’t have to defend me. I can take care of myself.”

Logan gritted his teeth but nodded, crossing his arms in resignation. Scott, looking confused, seemed unsure how to handle the situation. Finally, he broke the silence.

“It’s not just about the fight, Mía,” he said, his tone quieter, almost defeated. “It’s about you. You haven’t been the same for weeks. I don’t know how to reach you. I don’t even know if you want me to try.”

“This isn’t the time or place for this conversation, Scott. You know that.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken feelings and decisions yet to be made. Logan watched them both, feeling the weight of the moment, but unsure how to intervene.

Finally, Mía turned away from Scott and headed for the jet.

“Let’s go,” she said, her voice resolute. “We need to move.”

Both men followed her in silence. When they reached the jet, Storm and Jean were already there, ushering in a visibly shaken group of mutants. The tension in the air was palpable, and Mía sensed it was charged not just with the electricity she controlled, but with the latent fear of those they had come to help.

Jean frowned slightly as she noticed Mía approaching with Scott and Logan. She didn’t say anything, but her expression was enough to tell Mía something was off. Storm, meanwhile, seemed more focused on maintaining calm among the new mutants, her gaze fixed on the sky as if trying to control something beyond their immediate surroundings.

“We had a hard time convincing them to board,” Jean finally broke the silence. “They think we’re here to trap them, not help.”

Mía nodded slowly, her mind already shifting into operational mode. Scott boarded the jet first, beginning to prepare for takeoff, while Logan helped the mutants, who still cast wary glances at everyone around them.

“Any sign of Magneto?” Mía asked, approaching Storm, who was watching her with a scrutinizing look.

“Not yet, but Jean has detected something… strange. Energies we can’t fully identify.” Storm’s tone was serious, though her gaze softened slightly. “We should move quickly. I don’t want to risk staying here longer than necessary.”

Mía agreed. With each passing second, she felt a mounting pressure in her chest, as if something was about to break free, both outside and within her. The electricity she had unleashed against Juggernaut kept her alert, like a wild power inside her waiting for another opportunity to erupt.

One by one, the mutants boarded, some still trembling, others casting wary glances, but all clearly exhausted from fear and uncertainty. Once everyone was on board, Mía headed for the cockpit. She knew Scott was upset and that Logan was monitoring her every move, but there was no time to deal with that now.

“How soon can we get out of here?” Jean asked, approaching the cockpit with her arms crossed. She had been mentally calming the new mutants throughout the journey, and Mía could see the weariness etched on her face.

“We’re ready,” Mía replied, firing up the engines. “We just need to take off.”

“Do it,” Scott commanded from his seat.

Without another word, Mía initiated the jet's launch. The roar of the engines filled the air as the craft began to lift off the ground. As they flew, she could feel Scott’s and Logan’s gazes on her, but she chose to ignore them, focusing on what lay ahead.

[inkmonster21]

A Cowboy’s Love

Yellowstone Ryan x OC!Dutton

Part 6

Series Masterlist

This is Part 7

Warnings: SMUT

🤠

Hattie Dutton's memories of her mother, Evelyn, were hazy at best. She had numerous photographs, but the tangible memories she craved eluded her. Evelyn had passed away when Hattie was just three years old, leaving behind only photographs and fading recollections. Today marked the anniversary of Evelyn's departure, a day that reminded Hattie of the void left by her mother's absence.

Although Hattie was deeply affected by her mother's absence, Beth's heartache ran even deeper. She bore the brunt of the emotional pain, her grief more pronounced in the face of their shared loss. Hattie's own pain was significant, but Beth's sorrow was particularly profound, adding an extra layer of emotional complexity to the already heavy circumstance.

The depth of Beth's pain pushed her to make impulsive and irrational choices. Her grief, fueled by the anniversary's weight, led her to open a bottle of champagne and sit naked in the horse trough, seeking solace and escape from the emotional turmoil that gripped her. The unconventional and reckless act highlighted the depths of her emotional struggle.

Hattie, alarmed and concerned, rushed out of the house, clutching a towel in her hands. She pleaded with Beth, her voice filled with worry and desperation, begging her to get out of the horse trough. The urgency in Hattie's voice mirrored the deep concern she felt for her sister's well-being, knowing that Beth's actions were a cry for help and a coping mechanism for her overwhelming grief.

Beth, her voice tinged with bitterness and frustration, retorted, "You don't even remember, Hattie. And even if you do, you don't even care." Her words carried a sting of accusation and resentment, reflecting the complex emotions that swirled within her. Hattie's lack of memory only added to Beth's sense of isolation and grief, intensifying her pain and amplifying her feelings of abandonment. The emotional chasm between them in that moment seemed insurmountable.

Hattie, her voice steady and firm, hurled the towel to the ground before calmly voicing her concern, "You're drunk, Beth." Her words were not intended to provoke further conflict but to cut through her sister's emotional haze and bring her back to reality. Hattie's directness and firmness reflected her desire to help Beth through the storm of grief and pain that had driven her to such drastic actions.

Hattie's eyes widened in surprise as she opened the door, only to find the Montana Governor, Lynelle, on the other side. It hadn't crossed Hattie's mind that her father had invited the governor for a nightcap. The unexpected encounter added an extra layer of tension to an already emotionally charged situation.

Lynelle greeted Hattie warmly, her smile genuine despite the awkwardness of the situation, "Good morning, Hattie." Her demeanor was friendly yet professional, her composure unwavering as she addressed the youngest Dutton.

Hattie mustered a smile and a nod as she watched the governor leave. Meanwhile, Beth's gaze followed Lynelle's every move, her eyes filled with a mixture of resentment and bitterness as she watched her walk towards her car.

Hattie prepared a cup of coffee in the kitchen, joined by Jamie, who stood next to the window. Jamie was visibly shocked as he witnessed Beth's antics outside. Turning to Hattie, he asked, "What the hell is she doing?"

Hattie responded with a roll of her eyes, "I have no goddamn idea." Jamie then quipped, "You never do.”

Hattie couldn't contain her frustration any longer. She glared at Jamie, her voice filled with annoyance, "You know what?" Her anger boiled over, and she slammed her coffee on the table, striding determinedly towards the door. "Fuck you, Jamie!" Her words echoed through the air, mirroring the depth of her annoyance and resentment towards him.

Jamie turned to face Hattie with a perplexed expression, his tone slightly sarcastic. "I’m sorry," he said, a hint of mockery in his voice, "don’t you have some little Instagram live to do in the barn?" His words were meant to provoke a response, to push Hattie’s buttons further, adding fuel to the already tense situation between them.

Hattie's response was laced with venom and anger. "At least I’m doing something," she retorted, her voice filled with bitterness. The disdain in her tone was palpable, emphasizing the stark contrast in their perspectives and their inability to see eye to eye in this moment of confrontation.

Jamie's gaze held a mix of frustration and disappointment as he shot back, "I'm the goddamn state attorney! What the hell are you?" His words dripped with condescension and a sense of superiority, as if he were questioning Hattie's worth and accomplishments in comparison to his own.

Ryan, on horseback, rode closer, his anger growing as he overheard the argument. His patience ran thin as he witnessed Jamie's harsh words directed at Hattie, fueling his mounting irritation. The sight of Hattie in the midst of the confrontation only heightened his protective instincts, pushing him closer to the boiling point.

Ryan's firm voice cut through the tension as he approached the scene. He turned to Hattie, his concern palpable as he asked, "Hey, Hattie, you okay?" His eyes scanned her expression, searching for any sign of distress or discomfort in the face of the unfolding confrontation.

Hattie wiped away a tear, her voice quavering as she responded, "Yeah." With a heavy sigh, she turned and walked back into the house, seeking refuge from the emotional turmoil that engulfed her. Ryen's glare fixed on Jamie, his expression carrying a mixture of anger and protectiveness, before he rode off into the distance, leaving Jamie standing there, caught in the aftermath of the tense exchange.

Rip appeared on the scene, with Jamie walking away after a brief exchange. However, Beth remained stubbornly in the horse trough, unwilling to leave despite Rip's efforts to convince her otherwise. It was a day of collective struggle and pain, with Rip's attempt to help Beth further underscoring the emotional toll the day had taken on everyone involved.

Hattie wandered around the ranch, her eyes fixated on the sight of Ryan emerging from the barn, holding the halter of a young buck. She paused for a moment, witnessing him tending to the animal with ease and comfort.

Ryan looked up, his eyes meeting hers. His lips curved into a small smile as he acknowledged her presence. "Hattie," he repeated her name, his voice carrying a hint of warmth and familiarity in the midst of the tumultuous day.

Hattie walked closer, her own small smile mirroring Ryan's. "Thanks for backing me up there. Jamie's an ass," she said, her words filled with a mix of gratitude and frustration. The mention of Jamie's name stirred up a renewed sense of anger and annoyance within her, the memory of the argument still fresh in her mind.

Ryan nodded, understanding her sentiment. "No problem." He replied, his voice calm and measured. "Didn’t like the way he was talking to you." His words carried a hint of protectiveness, his concern for her evident in the way he spoke about the situation.

Hattie closed the distance between them, sidling up to Ryan and nestling herself in the comfort of his arms. She sought solace and comfort in his embrace, finding a temporary respite from the emotional turmoil that had plagued her.

Hattie's voice was soft and filled with a poignant mixture of nostalgia and longing as she confessed, "I know I don't remember her, but I still miss her, you know? None of them understand." Her words carried a hint of sadness and a longing for a connection to the mother she never really knew, a longing that seemed to go unfulfilled amongst her family, who couldn't fully grasp the depth of her sentiment.

Ryan tightened his embrace, holding Hattie close to his chest, his voice filled with genuine empathy and understanding. "I'm sorry, Hattie," he repeated, his words offering a sincere apology for the pain and confusion she felt. It was a simple phrase, yet it carried a weight that conveyed his heartfelt sympathy for the unique pain she was experiencing.

Hattie leaned into Ryan's embrace, her head resting against his chest. The rise and fall of his breathing provided a soothing rhythm, offering a sense of comfort and security. For a few moments, they stood there in silence, surrounded by the sounds of the ranch and the weight of their shared sentiments.

“Ryan! Get that buck out here!” Ryan, hearing Rip's call from the horse corals, sighed and detached himself from Hattie's embrace. He leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her head, promising her, "Tonight, I'm all yours, darlin" before turning to walk away. Hattie nodded, her eyes following him as he walked towards the waiting buck, a mix of anticipation and expectation on her face.

Hattie leaned against the fence, her gaze fixed on the hands practicing their roping skills. She observed their expert coordination and the rhythmic motion of the ropes soaring through the air, landing precisely on the calves. The horses thundered across the corral, their hooves kicking up clouds of dirt as they obediently obeyed the commands of the wranglers.

Ryan's eyes briefly flickered towards the spot where Hattie was standing. With a playful smirk, he shouted over to her, "Nothing for good luck?" His words were laced with a subtle hint of challenge and invitation, as if he were daring her to come over and offer him a small token of support.

You shake your head, “you’re insane to ask me that question with my father walking around.” Ryan chuckled, a sly grin spreading across his face at Hattie's response. He cast a knowing glance around the corral, as if acknowledging the risk of her father overhearing their banter. "You're right," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. "I'm just taking my chances, darling."

Beth made her way over to where Hattie was standing, leaning against the fence next to her. There was a hint of sobriety in her demeanor, a stark contrast to her earlier intoxicated stint in the trough.

Hattie's attention shifted to Beth as she felt a gentle nudge from her elbow. A flicker of curiosity crossed Hattie's face as she turned to her sister, bracing herself for whatever Beth was about to say.

Beth's voice waivered as she spoke, her words sincere and laced with remorse. "I want to say I'm sorry." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing, her voice filled with vulnerability, "You do remember her, and I know you miss her. It's just..." Hattie, seeing the pain in Beth's eyes, interjected and interrupted her gently, "It's okay, Beth. I know it's different for you." The sisters shared a moment of understanding and empathy, the complexities of their emotions woven into the simple exchange.

Hattie's gentle tease caused a small smile to tug at the corners of Beth's lips, softening the tension between the sisters. Hattie asked, a hint of jest in her voice, "How hard was it to apologize?" Beth let out a soft chuckle, acknowledging the challenge of expressing her remorse, yet gladdened by the easy banter that returned between them. Beth let out a sigh, her voice filled with a mixture of resignation and frustration. "Fuckin' hard," she admitted, a hint of vulnerability coloring her words as she lit a cigarette.

John Dutton made his way over to his two daughters, his presence commanding attention and respect. John's voice was firm yet composed as he addressed his daughters, cutting through the momentary silence. "Can I speak to you both?" His request hung in the air like a heavyweight, his somber tone indicating the seriousness of what he wanted to discuss.

Hattie and Beth followed their father, John Dutton, as he led them away from the ranch hands, all three of them now leaning on the fence, overlooking the vast expanse of the Yellowstone property. The beauty of the land spread out before them, the rolling hills and rugged landscape bearing witness to the history and struggles of the Dutton family.

Beth's voice interrupted the moment, a hint of anger and resignation in her tone as she directed her question at John. "I want to ask you something first. Of all days, why choose today for her to be here?" Her words echoed the weight of her emotions, her frustration at the timing of the unexpected guest hanging in the air between them. John's expression remained stoic as he considered his response, his gaze drifting from Beth to the landscape before him before returning to his daughter.

John's reply was firm yet tinged with a hint of vulnerability, his words carrying the weight of his own emotions. "Because, Beth," he repeated, his gaze fixed on the horizon, "of all days, this is the one I want to forget." There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air as the three of them stood there, the beauty of the ranch scenery starkly contrasted with the storminess of their emotions.

She nods with contentment, “What’d you want to ask us?” John took a deep breath, the storm of emotions in his eyes momentarily stilled as he shifted his focus to Hattie and Beth. His voice was steady as he began, "There’s two empty seats in the assembly. You two will pick the out weakest." He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing, the importance of the conversation evident in the weight of his words. Several cars begins rolling into the property.

Beth's response was firm, her distaste for Jamie's political pursuits evident in her words. "Jamie’s the politician." Her expression conveyed her annoyance, the fact that Jamie was the one dabbling in politics adding a bitter edge to her statement.

John nodded, a hint of a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I know, honey," he replied, using an affectionate nickname for Beth. "That's why it’s got to be you two. My destruction duo." His words acknowledged the unique dynamic between his daughters, recognizing their ability to cause chaos and bring down those who stood against them.

Hattie took a deep breath, steeling herself as she approached the assembly members exiting their vehicles. She plastered a respectful and award-winning smile on her face, extending her hand for handshakes and offering warm greetings. "Welcome, gentlemen," she said, her voice dripping with politeness, concealing the storm of emotions beneath.

Hattie's eyes briefly darted towards her watch as she received a text message from Ryan. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she read his words, "Don’t ditch me for some rich state man." The thought of Ryan's presence waiting for her outside the assembly room brought a flicker of anticipation and excitement. She quickly downed her drink, replying, "Be out soon." The promise of a much-needed escape from the stiffness of the assembly gathering was a refreshing thought, a chance to be herself with Ryan.

Hattie rose from her seat at the table, her smile warm but firm as she addressed the group of men. "Well, gentlemen, it has been such a pleasure," she began, her voice carrying a cordial tone, "but I have a dinner arrangement." She gestured towards Beth, addressing her with warmth and a hint of irony. "I’ll leave you with my better and wiser half," she added, alluding to Beth's sharp wit and fierce nature. With a final smile, Hattie made her way out of the room, the weight of the assembly gathering lifted from her shoulders.

As Hattie stepped out onto the back porch, she caught sight of Jamie lurking in the shadows, a half-empty glass in his hand. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she addressed him, her voice laced with a hint of mockery. "What were you again, Jamie?" Her words carried a touch of sardonic humor as she teased him about his role in the assembly gathering.

Jamie took a step closer to Hattie, his voice laced with a hint of defensiveness as he responded to her initial remark. "I’ll tell you what I'm not," he said, his words a challenge. Hattie remained standing on the last step of the porch, unflinching as Jamie approached, the gap between them slowly closing.

"Well, that list is long," Hattie replied, her voice playful yet sardonic. "A cowboy? A good man? A decent leader? Shall I go on, Jamie?"

Jamie's words hit their mark, and Hattie froze, her confidence faltering in an instant. He had unwittingly touched a nerve, bringing up her own dark secret. His words hung in the air between them, the weight of their meaning crashing down on Hattie as he spoke. "I’m not a murderer," he repeated stubbornly. Hattie's face paled momentarily, a flicker of guilt and shame passing through her before she regained her composure, masking her emotions behind a veneer of indifference.

Hattie's emotions boiled over, and she shoved Jamie, her frustration and anger bursting forth like a violent eruption. "Shut the hell up!" She shouted, her voice filled with a mixture of fury and pain.

Jamie's smirk was chilling, and Hattie's heart sank as he taunted her with the knowledge he held. "I have the report," he repeated, his voice laced with a touch of arrogance. "I have everything," he continued, his words loaded with the threat of the damning information he possessed. "I’ll could release it all tomorrow." Hattie's face paled as she realized the extent of the power Jamie held over her, a power that could bring her world crumbling down in an instant.

Jamie's smug confidence wavered slightly at Hattie's words, his smirk faltering momentarily as he considered her point. "You're not going to do a thing," Hattie stated firmly, her voice laced with unwavering determination. "That would ruin us." She emphasized the word us, reminding Jamie that the fallout would not only affect her, but the entire Dutton family as well.

Jamie continue, “Don’t think I will? Maybe I’ll just call Vince’s parents myself and tell them exactly where their son is!” Hattie's frustration and anger reached its boiling point, and in a swift and defiant motion, she swung her arm and hit Jamie across the face. The impact echoed in the air, the sound of her hand meeting his flesh a testament to her fury. Jamie stumbled backwards, caught off guard by the unexpected strike.

Jamie's forward motion was abruptly halted as Ryan stepped between the two. With a firm hold on Jamie's shoulders, Ryan's voice rang out in a protective tone, demanding answers. "What the hell are you doing?" Ryan's gaze shifted between Jamie and Hattie, his expression a mix of confusion and anger.

Jamie's words were filled with resentment and bitterness as he pushed away from Ryan, shaking off Ryan's restraining hold. "Getting saved again," Jamie sneered, his tone laced with sarcasm. "How fitting for you." His remark hinted at a deeper issue, a festering jealousy and perceived imbalance in the sibling dynamics.

Hattie stood there, watching as Jamie stalked away, her anger and frustration still simmering just below the surface. Her teeth clenched and her body tensed, she struggled to maintain her composure as she processed the confrontation that had just unfolded.

Ryan's strong arms enveloped Hattie, pulling her close as he asked, "You alright?" His voice was gentle yet firm, filled with concern and worry. Hattie leaned into his embrace, her head resting against his chest as she tried to steady her racing heart and tumultuous emotions.

Hattie's reply was soft, her voice tinged with the faintest hint of vulnerability as she responded, "Better now." The protective circle of Ryan's arms made her feel secure and comforted, the turmoil within her slowly began to subside as she drew strength from his presence.

“Good because it’s your turn to pick. What’s your grand idea tonight?” Hattie chuckled softly, a hint of humor seeping into her voice as she responded to Ryan's question. "My grand idea?" she echoed, her tone playful and suggestive. "Well, I was thinking maybe we could do something wild and extravagant, like stealing a horse and riding off into the sunset like in those romance novels." She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she teased him.

Ryan's lips curled into a grin, enjoying Hattie's playful banter. "Oh, That sounds thrilling." He paused for a moment, considering her proposition. "And where would we be riding off to, after we steal this horse?" he teased, playing along with her joke.

Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued to play along with the fantastical scenario she had created. "Well, we'd have to go somewhere far away, where nobody can find us." She leaned in closer to him, a coy smile on her lips. "Maybe a remote cabin in the middle of Texas, where we could spend our days exploring the landscape and our nights exploring each other."

Ryan smirked, “Well we could do that right here.” Hattie's breath caught in her throat as Ryan's words sank in, her heart fluttering at the implication behind his sultry tone. "Right here?" she repeated, a hint of surprise and excitement in her voice. She tilted her head back, a coy smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of desire and anticipation.

Ryan nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he made his proposal. "Well," he began, a hint of suggestion in his voice, "about thirty minutes from here. Pasture 3 is free. No patrols on that end tonight. You want to lay on your back and look at the stars?" His words hung in the air, the invitation clear, and the offer of a private and intimate moment under the vast sky was alluring. "Sounds perfect,"she replied, her voice laced with anticipation.

They strolled hand in hand through the tall grass, the evening breeze caressing their skin. The sky transformed into a canvas of vibrant hues, painting the clouds with shades of orange and pink.

As they reached a secluded spot near the edge of the pasture, where a large oak tree stood guard, Ryan spread out a blanket, its red and white checkered pattern a stark contrast to the lush green surroundings.

Ryan spoke, his voice is soft, "Used to come here as when I was low man, Dreamin' of bein' an amazing cowboy, dreaming of you. Never thought I'd end up here, with you actually by my side."

Hattie's cheeks flushed, and she leaned in, her lips brushing his gently. "You’re still a shit cowboy, but at least you got one thing going for you."

Their kiss deepened, tongues entwining in a dance as old as time. Ryan's hands roamed over Hattie's body, his rough palms igniting a fire wherever they touched. He unbuttoned her dress, revealing a lace camisole that barely contained her ample bosom. His fingers traced the lace, teasing the edges, making Hattie's breath catch in her throat.

"You're so damn beautiful, Hattie," he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. "Been wantin' to do this all day."

With those words, he cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, now hard and straining against the lace. Hattie arched her back, encouraging his touch, her hands tugging at his shirt, eager to feel his skin.

"Oh, Ryan," Hattie moaned, her fingers tracing the contours of his torso, relishing the feel of his warm skin.

He lowered her onto the blanket, his body hovering over hers, their eyes locked in an unspoken promise of pleasure. Ryan's hands traveled down her body, sliding beneath the camisole, his fingers exploring the soft skin of her stomach, before dipping lower, into the moist heat between her thighs.

Hattie's hips bucked at his touch, her body already aching for release. "Please, Ryan," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. "I need you."

Ryan smiled, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Oh, I'll give you what you need, darlin'. And more."

With that, he unbuckled his belt, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his jeans. Hattie's eyes widened at the sight of his thick, erect cock, straining against his boxers. She reached out, her hand wrapping around his length, stroking him gently, eliciting a low groan from Ryan's throat.

"Feels so damn good, Hattie," he growled, his hips thrusting slightly with each stroke of her hand. "But I wanna feel that sweet pussy of yours around me."

He positioned himself between her thighs, his cock nudging at her entrance, already glistening with her desire. With one smooth thrust, he filled her, their bodies becoming one. Hattie gasped, her back arching off the blanket, as Ryan's cock stretched her, filling her in a way that only he could.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Ryan panted, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. "So damn tight and wet."

Hattie's hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him on. "Harder, Ryan," she pleaded. "Take me harder."

Ryan obliged, his thrusts becoming more powerful, each one hitting her sweet spot, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. The blanket rustled beneath them, the sound of their passionate moans and the slapping of skin on skin filling the air.

As Ryan's pace quickened, Hattie's body began to tremble, her orgasm building like a storm on the horizon. "I'm close, Ryan," she cried out, her voice laced with desperation.

"Let it go, darlin'," he encouraged, his voice rough with his own mounting desire. "Cum for me, Hattie."

His words were all it took. Hattie's body exploded in a cascade of pleasure, her inner walls clenching around Ryan's cock, milking him as her orgasm ripped through her. Ryan grunted, his own release building, his thrusts becoming erratic as he fought to hold on.

"Fuck, Hattie," he groaned, his body tensing. "I'm gonna cum, darlin'."

With one final, powerful thrust, Ryan emptied himself into her, his hot seed filling her depths. They clung to each other, their bodies slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in unison.

As their breathing slowed, Ryan rolled onto his side, pulling Hattie close, her head resting on his chest, their limbs entangled. They lay there, content in the aftermath of their passionate encounter, watching the stars begin to twinkle in the darkening sky.

"This is where I wanna be," Ryan whispered, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Hattie's bare arm. "Right here, with you, under the Montana sky."

Hattie smiled, her heart full, and kissed his chest gently. "Me too, Ryan. Just us and the stars."

[ikeprinces-stuff]

[𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞]

A/N: Leon x Romarin getting their own fanfic series Yay!! Clap clap! Applause applause!! Hope yall have fun and... Uhh.. pls don't hate me cuz I love cliffhangers 😅

Pairing: Leon Dompteur x Romarin ?????? (OC)

Warning: Frequent mention of blood, attempted assassination, violence against the main character, If anyone doesn't like this type of tags, please turn your back on the fanfic in peace.

Words: 4k... That's... Too much, pls bear with me...

Previous chaps: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

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In a distant province, nestled beneath the heavy cloak of night, stood the estate of a noble family, its opulence now shrouded in sorrow. The shadows danced upon the walls, enshrining the agonies of those who dwelled within, save for one solitary figure who remained unaffected by the somber air. He sat in the depths of a dimly lit room, a space that had become both his refuge and his prison, where the echoes of injustice, tyranny, and unyielding power reverberated endlessly. Clad in dark garments that mirrored his desolation, he was almost indistinguishable from the chair upon which he sat; a monument to the grief and chaos that enveloped the estate.

Outside, the mournful sounds of wails and whispered condolences filled the air, but he remained unmoved, a statue of quiet defiance amid the tempest of sorrow. Just then, the door creaked open, revealing a woman resembling a shrewd old maid, her own black attire reflecting the weight of the evening's gloom.

“How are things?” he asked in a tone as cold as the night itself.

“The carriage is ready, and the household is consumed with preparations for the burial rites, Your Grace,” she replied, her expression resolute yet respectful.

He nodded, finally rising from his chair, his gaze piercing as it met hers. His ocean-like eyes held a storm simmering beneath the surface. "If anyone asks about me, you know what to say."

With unwavering confidence, the maid nodded back. “Yes, Your Grace. I will ensure that your absence goes unnoticed.”

In that moment, a silent pact was formed between them, a bond forged through the trials of the estate’s turmoil, and as he turned to step into the encroaching darkness outside, he felt a flicker of determination amidst the prevailing shadows.

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"I heard they were taken out in cold blood," one guy murmured, leaning closer. "Not a single one made it out alive." The other shot back, "Where’d you get that info?"

"My fiancée works as a maid for some noble family, and you know how it is—places like this are practically gossip central."

"Wait, so the one behind it is still a mystery?"

"Yep," he replied, glancing around. "Word on the street is that it wasn’t a lone wolf but a whole crew."

The chatter among the townsfolk grew louder, everyone throwing hushed comments back and forth, but off to the side, three men seemed unfazed by all the rumors swirling around. They exchanged glances, their expressions dark and tense.

"You think that..." the short, stocky guy began, but a muscular dude cut him off.

"Screw waiting for orders. We’ll take care of this ourselves."

The tall guy hesitated, furrowing his brow. "And if things go south?"

"Come on, it's just one weak woman," the muscular guy scoffed, his buddies nodding along. "We’ve got this. Tonight." With that, their little chat wrapped up, and they split, ready to put their plan into action.

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Meanwhile, within the grand halls of the palace, a palpable tension hung in the air. “It’s just as we feared,” Jin stated, his brows knit in concern as he glanced out the window. “The townsfolk are gathering in droves at the square, like ants swarming around sugar.”

Leon leaned in closer, his voice hushed. “When did you first notice the rumours spreading?”

Licht eyed the town through the window. “About a week ago. Though the incident itself happened far earlier than that.”

Yves, whose usual calm demeanour was noticeably ruffled, shifted uneasily. “We’ve worked tirelessly to keep this under wraps. The townspeople believe it’s just a story. What will happen when they realise this has been brewing for so long?” He shuddered at the thought.

The grim tale of the Marcel family's demise echoed ominously. One by one, one of the prominent noble families in Rhodolite had fallen to the blades of unknown assassins.

The Domestic faction had hoped to maintain a veil of silence to prevent panic from gripping the town, particularly over the unsettling idea of assassins lurking in the shadows.

Leon’s voice cut through the tension as he ordered, “Find out how the rumours began. We must keep a lid on this until we can make a formal announcement that’s more reliable.”

Jin chimed in, his voice urgent, “I heard that Chevalier's faction are also investigating.”

Leon nodded gravely. “Given the Marcel family's recent contacts, it’s likely because the were linked to the anti-monarchy faction.”

The mention of the anti-monarchy faction drew shocked gazes from the others. Leon pressed on, “Clavis managed to compile a trove of information about them—their connections, their enemies. It seems there’s more to this than we initially thought.”

Yves furrowed his brow, “So, they may have provoked the faction’s wrath, leading to their assassinations?”

“Possibly,” Leon replied, his tone measured. “But without solid evidence, we can’t jump to conclusions. For now, we must either deem this an accident or keep it under wraps entirely.” Each prince nodded, the weight of grim business settling heavily on their shoulders.

But just as they were about to turn back to their tasks, Yves broke the momentary silence. “By the way, where’s Vernard? I haven’t seen him around today.”

“Oh, Vern?” Jin smirked with a touch of mischief. “He’s off on one of his… unique patrols. He sent me the rumours and told me to report back to you.”

“You ran into him in town?” Licht asked, a little amused.

“He was supposed to brief us himself,” Yves grumbled, crossing his arms defiantly.

Jin shrugged, “You know how Vern is.”

But Yves cut him off, frustration clouding his voice, “No, I don’t know! What could be so vital that he’s skipping out on a meeting like this?”

Licht jumped in, “Maybe he finished his duties early. I mean, he wouldn’t just sit here, staring at the walls, would he?”

Yves sighed, conceding the point. “Yeah, you have a point, but still...”

Leon, who had remained quiet thus far, interjected. “Vernard's on a mission, that’s all you need to know.”

The princes exchanged glances, waiting for something more, but Leon merely smiled enigmatically before turning back to his work.

“Admit it, you’re saying that just to sidestep the issue. Even you don’t know where he is or what he’s doing!” Yves narrowed his eyes, challenging Leon.

Leon continued to smile playfully, “You’ll have to ask him when he returns.”

“Good luck getting him to open up,” Yves groaned.

“Exactly,” Licht added, matching Yves’s sarcasm with his own.

The conversation shifted back to the pressing matters at hand, but undercurrents of concern about chaos brewing beyond the palace walls lingered in the air—unspoken but palpable in the minds of the princes.

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“I told you, Sariel,” Clavis declared, a hint of pride lacing his voice. He leaned over Sariel's desk, his fingers dancing across the meticulously arranged papers with an almost reverent touch. “I'm not just a walking disaster. You have to admit that I’ve proven to be more than that, haven’t I?”

Sariel’s gaze drifted from the parchment to Clavis, his expression thoughtful as he began straightening the documents for their upcoming work. A playful smile curled his lips. “I’m curious to know how you managed to gather such precise information, Prince Clavis. I think I’ll investigate that myself.”

“Now, now, Sariel,” Clavis wagged a finger playfully, “let’s not dwell on that. What’s the point of figuring out the ‘how’ if it all leads to helping our dear king?” His smile was bright, yet there was something elusive about it that Sariel knew not to read too deeply.

“You have a point,” Sariel replied, his demeanour shifting slightly as he met Clavis’s gaze. “King Leon will undoubtedly appreciate your remarkable efforts. I promise I’ll inform him of your latest findings.”

With that, Clavis took his leave, the door clicking softly behind him. Sariel stood, a slip of paper in one hand as he pored over its contents. Suddenly, something out of the corner of his vibrant violet eyes caught his attention outside the window. His heart quickened, and he called out to one of the nearby servants.

“Please inform His Majesty King Leon and His Highness Prince Chevalier right away,” he commanded, his tone shifting to one of urgency. He cast another glance outside, his eyes narrowing. “It seems we have some visitors.”

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“Your Majesty, a Duke requests your presence,” a servant announced, stepping into the Domestic Faction office with a hint of urgency.

Leon furrowed his brow, glancing around at the other faction members. Most were busy with their own duties, Jin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the unexpected visitor.

“There’s no meeting scheduled today,” Leon replied, dismissing the notion at first.

Yves chimed in, “He can certainly wait until the King’s business is done.”

The servant hesitated, shifting nervously. “My lord, the Duke insists that it’s urgent, something he described as ‘a matter of life or death.’”

The room fell silent as the words hung in the air. Leon got intrigued by the implication, a flicker of curiosity igniting within him. Could this Duke’s urgent message relate to the trials they were currently facing?

Feeling the weight of the moment, Leon rose from his chair, his decision made. “Jin…” he called to his older brother, who looked at him with understanding.

Jin nodded, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. “Don’t worry, chief. I’ll handle this. I just wish Vern was here to share the load.” With a lighthearted laugh, he motioned for Leon to go.

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Hours had passed since Vernard finished his patrol, and as he hurried through the palace corridors, his mind was still racing with thoughts of duty and responsibility. Suddenly, he crossed paths with a stranger. At first, Vernard assumed the figure was just another minister. But a sense of realisation tugged at him—he knew everyone who belonged to the palace, from the humble servants to the high-ranking officials, and this man wasn't someone he recognized.

Intrigued yet wary, Vernard was tempted to probe further, but he quickly dismissed the thought and continued on his path. Still, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that the unfamiliar man was watching him intently, their gazes locking for an awkward moment.

“Um… Excuse me… but…” the man hesitated, a friendly glimmer in his eyes as he scrutinized Vernard’s face, clearly searching for the right words.

Without missing a beat, Vernard replied coolly, “King Leon is busy. If you have something to discuss with him, you can share it with me, and I’ll relay the message.” His tone was sharp, revealing he had no time for idle chatter.

The stranger quickly backpedaled. “No… I just met His Majesty and wrapped up my business with him,” he insisted, attempting to appear amicable. But then his gaze fell upon the lynx crest embroidered on Vernard’s tie—the emblem of the noble beasts. The man’s expression shifted as he moved his eyes between the crest and Vernard, suspicion creeping in.

Vernard felt a spike of unease and the man picked up on it. “Oh, I… I apologise for my odd behaviour… I thought you were—” He trailed off, suddenly noticing someone approaching, and without another word, he excused himself and hurried away.

“Eccentric…” Vernard muttered under his breath, watching the stranger disappear down the corridor. Just as he shook off the encounter, another familiar figure emerged—Chevalier.

Chevalier paused in front of Vernard for a moment, a knowing look on his face. “You’ve met our guest, haven’t you?”

“Guest?” Vernard echoed, confusion knitting his brow. But Chevalier offered no reply. He turned slightly, speaking over his shoulder. “Ask Black; he has all the details. Although, I doubt you’ll be keen on anything that involves nobility.”

“Those loathsome nobles don’t concern me,” Vernard snapped, his voice laced with determination. “As long as they pose no threat to Leon or anyone close to him, I couldn’t care less.”

Without acknowledging Vernard’s resolve, Chevalier continued on his way, leaving the snow-white prince in a swirl of uncertainty. He had to see Leon, and fast—before it was too late.

🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀🌹🥀

The chill of the night nipped at Romarin's skin as she finally escaped the pub, her violin case strapped to her back like a faithful companion. "What a freakin' rip-off," she muttered, pulling her cloak tighter. "That pub owner promised an hour, not all night! I'm such a sucker for a few lousy coins."

The cobblestone streets were deserted, the air thick with silence. But Romarin couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, a prickle of unease crawling up her spine.

Something ain't right…

Her heart quickening. She could hear footsteps behind her, but the familiar feeling of being stalked sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't just any footsteps, it was them. The crow's raspy caw from a nearby rooftop felt like a damn alarm bell.

Without a second glance back, she ducked into a narrow alley, hoping to lose her tail. But her escape plan went south real quick. Two figures blocked her path, their smirks as sharp as daggers.

"Well, well, well, look what the night coughed up," the shorter but heavily built one sneered. "A little songbird in the shadows, eh?" His taller, lanky partner chuckled, a sound like dry leaves crunching underfoot.

"Are you lost, sweetheart?" the shorter one asked, his voice dripping with a sickly sweetness.

"And what are you guys, a couple of withered weeds blocking others’ way?" Romarin retorted, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and apprehension. "Can't a lady walk without some creeps bothering her?"

The two moved closer, their shadows stretching long and menacing. "Spunky, I like that," the shorter one said, his tone ambiguous. "Don't worry, this won't take long." He gestured to himself and his companion. "I'm Arrin, and this is my brother, Forren."

"Lovely... to meet you," Romarin replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, because she seriously did not feel the love.

Finally showing yourselves, she thought, her gaze hardening. These were the guys who'd been tailing her everywhere—the town square, the pubs, the restaurants. She'd seen their faces so many times, they were starting to feel like a recurring nightmare. They were like a pair of shadows, always lurking, always watching.

And one of them was the reason she’d made that daring move with Leon all those months ago…

"What, you think you're gonna relieve me of my valuables? Why don't we hash this out like civilized folks?" Romarin quipped, but Forren just chuckled. "We ain't here for a score, dollface. Just a little chinwag."

She didn't buy his smooth talk for a second. Every step they took closer, she took a step back, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Before she could make a run for it, her escape route was cut off. A third guy, a real tubby man, materialized out of nowhere.

"You've arrived, Gale," Arrin said, a knowing smirk on his face. Romarin's heart hammered in her chest. She was boxed in. Gale started sauntering towards her, his face a mask of cold fury. "Like he said, we want to chat, and I'm sure you're well aware of the topic."

"You know about the whispers around town, right? The ones about the Marcel family, huh?" Arrin asked, his voice dripping with menace. Romarin felt like her breath caught in her throat.

That name... It dredged up the horrifying memory of playing her violin for them, the nobles, all smiles and polite nods. Then, the scene flashed before her eyes like a bad dream: their lifeless bodies, daggers and swords slick with their blood, held by figures shrouded in black. She'd been hiding behind a door, a terrified witness to the carnage. And too late, she'd realized one of the bastards had spotted her. She'd barely escaped with her life, a terrified bird fleeing a slaughterhouse.

"Seems like the subject hits close to home," Gale said, closing the distance between them until there was no space left.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Romarin lied, fighting to keep her voice steady. She was a tightrope walker, balancing on a thread of composure over an abyss of terror.

"Don't play coy with us, birdie. You were there," Arrin snapped, his patience thinning. "You were the only one who saw it all go down." His brother finished the sentence, and a chilling realization washed over her. She was the sole survivor, the silent witness, and these three were here to silence her… permanently. They were going to off her.

Romarin remained silent, her jade eyes darting between the three goons, searching for a sliver of hope, a way to wriggle free. Her gaze landed on her violin case, a spark of an idea igniting in her mind. She snatched the strap, flung the case open, and sent it flying, a chaotic distraction. She bolted, but one of the bastards grabbed her arm, yanking her back against the cold, unforgiving wall.

Trapped, she met the leering faces of her captors. Gale, that hulking brute, grabbed her cheeks, his grip like a vise. "Stubborn little bird, aren't ya?" he sneered.

Romarin thrashed, trying to break free, but the three of them closed in, forming a suffocating wall around her. "Sorry, dollface, orders are orders," Arrin chuckled, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Part of our professional policy. No details necessary... Sound familiar?" He mimicked her sarcastic tone, a sickening twist of the knife. "I'm itching to hear you scream, but you don't seem to be that type, are ya? Doesn't matter though. Even if you were to howl at the moon, no one's coming to your rescue." Forren, the slithery one, leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear, whispering threats that sent shivers down her spine.

"We've got some time to play with her before we off her, what do you guys think?" Gale asked, his hand still a vice around her face. The other two cackled, their laughter echoing the depravity of their intentions. Romarin knew what they had planned – a slow, torturous end. She fought desperately against their overwhelming bulk, her small frame a futile weapon against their might.

Spotting the tiniest of openings as Gale shifted his grip, Romarin seized her chance. She sank her teeth into his hand, biting down hard. A roar of pain erupted from Gale, and she scrambled away, desperately trying to escape their grasp. But they were too quick, too strong. Arrin snaked an arm around her neck, his grip tightening with each struggle. "Causing trouble even in your last moments, huh?!" he rasped, his voice laced with fury. His grip tightened further, cutting off her air supply. Romarin gasped for breath, her vision blurring, black spots dancing before her eyes. She was fading, her limbs going numb. "Get rid of her, quick!" Gale bellowed, his voice raw with impatience. Her fight was over. She felt the life drain from her body, a whisper of "no" echoing in the back of her mind before darkness swallowed her whole.

"ARGH!!--" "GAAAHH–" Screams of agony ripped through the alley, jolting Arrin out of his little task. His goons were strangely silent, and that was never a good sign. "What the hell's goin' on, you twerps?" he spun around, only to get clocked in the face with a hefty chunk of wood. His grip on Romarin's neck loosened, and the poor girl gasped for air, coughing like a chain smoker after a marathon. "Romarin!!"

Someone called her but her hearing was fuzzy, slowly, things started to come back into focus. She felt someone near her and, instinctively, recoiled. "Romarin…" A voice, worried, concerned. A voice she recognized. Panting, she waited for her vision to clear. When it did, her breath steadied. "You alright?" Leon knelt beside her, his stunning amber eyes filled with worry – a look she'd never seen before.

"Leon…" she croaked, her throat raw. Her breath evened out, but she felt the sting of tears welling up. Without even thinking, she wrapped her arms around the man who had come to her rescue. "Leon!" she cried. "You don't even know how stoked I am to see you!"

Leon felt her arms tighten around his neck, her body trembling with sobs, tears soaking his shoulder. He, in turn, hugged her tight, trying to soothe the fear that radiated off her. "Shhh… Don't sweat it, I'm here now." Simple words, but exactly what she needed to hear.

But their little moment was cut short. Arrin and his partners were on their feet, nursing their wounds. Leon sensed the shift and spun around, placing himself between Romarin and the threat. His amber eyes blazed with protectiveness.

"You again?" Arrin growled, his jaw clenched in pain. "Why'd ya gotta butt in where you don't belong?" Leon scoffed. "Three goons ganging up on a defenseless woman in a dark alley, and you call yourselves men?"

Forren sneered, "None ya business, pretty boy. Our business is with the dame, not you. If ya don't wanna end up looking like a busted tomato, you best scram."

Leon didn't budge. He stood firm, a lion guarding his territory, determined to protect Romarin.

The brothers wasted no time, lunging at Leon, fists flying. Romarin stepped back, pressing herself against the wall, watching the brawl unfold. It was a lopsided fight, but Leon was holding his own, even gaining the upper hand. Romarin felt like she was seeing him anew – like this was the first time she really saw him. Her heart fluttered, skipping a beat, watching him fight like a lion against a pack of hyenas. But that flutter quickly turned into a tremor. Something wasn't right…

There were three of them, weren't there?

While Leon was busy dispatching Arrin and Forren, Gale, the sneaky snake, crept up from behind, moonlight glinting off something in his hand. "Leon, watch out!" Romarin yelled, but he was too focused on the fight. Gale let out a bloodcurdling shriek and lunged, dagger aimed at Leon's back.

"Haaaah!!!" That was the last sound Gale heard before the side of his head met Romarin's violin with a sickening thud. A crash, and the dagger clattered to the ground. Leon turned, having dealt with Arrin and Forren, to find Romarin with her back to him, Gale out cold, and pieces of her violin scattered around her feet...

"R-Romarin…?" Leon's voice was laced with disbelief. She turned, and he managed a proud smile. "You're not one to underestimate, not that I ever doubted it." It was a playful jab, but Romarin didn't respond, making Leon's smile falter. She took two shaky steps towards him before collapsing.

"Romarin!" Leon scooped her up into his arms. Her skin was cold, and a shiver ran down his spine. He saw the dagger, stained a horrifying red. Then, he looked at Romarin and noticed the dark stain spreading across her black dress. There was no doubt: it was blood. Her blood.

"You saved me…" he whispered, looking at her pale face. The whole scene played out in a split second in his mind: Gale about to stab him, Romarin lunging forward, hitting Gale with her violin, taking the blow meant for him. "You did it again…" she rasped, feeling Leon's hand on her cold cheek. "Showing up just... when I’m in a bind." Then, she groaned.

"Why did you do this?" Leon asked, adjusting her in his arms to ease her pain. "Why'd you risk yourself? Why were you so reckless?" He stopped when he saw her weak smile. "My body… just moved on its own. And I didn't wanna… owe you… anything…"

Her voice faded, her awareness slipping away. She saw Leon trying to keep her awake, but she couldn't fight it. Her eyelids grew heavy, and the last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was Leon's terrified face.

These new expressions on his face… why was she seeing them as she breathed her last? She couldn't find the answer…

And the darkness finally swallowed her whole…

𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝>>>>>

@reborn-elven-spirit

[decaf-mother]

"Lucien"

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MDNI

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A story about the son of Simon Riley.

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Part 2

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Important: Lucien is an oc I recently created, inspired by @sprout-fics take on how Simon would respond to Y/N being pregnant.

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Warnings: Angst, Death, Abandonment, Trauma

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Simon was pleasantly surprised when his son actually agreed to meet up with him, to give him a chance to talk.

Mend old wounds- to try.

18 years.

He's only sent birthday cards and presents for 18 whole years, constantly considering talking to his son but then thinking about his work, about who he was as a person.

His trauma. His past.

How could he possibly be a good influence on a growing child's life?

Now that child has grown up and Simon missed it, a swirling mixture of regret and heartache in his soul. He tried to convince himself it was for the better but he often doubted that decision. Often wondered 'What if I had stayed?'.

-

Lucien clutched onto his mother tightly, thick drops rolling down his cheeks as he cried. The 6 year old little boy quivering within his mother's gentle hold.

"Momma... Does daddy not want me?"

The poor little boy couldn't grasp why his father couldn't be there in person for his party, why he wasn't ever around. His delicate heart shattered and his mom left to do her best to glue the pieces back together.

"No, sweetie... Your daddy just is going through a lot, okay? But he loves us both very very much. We both love you Luci and don't you ever forget that."

-

Lucien tugged on his denim jacket and slipped on his boots, breathing out harshly and trying to hold it together.

He wanted to give his dad a chance.

But how could he ever make up for all that time- how could he possibly explain? How could he ever take the pain away?

Groaning he ran his fingers back through his tousled brown hair, jaw clenching he trudged on down into the direction of the diner.

••

Simon's attention was instantly caught as his son walked through the doors, the first thing he noticed was how similar their eyes were.

Lucien's deep unrelenting hazel gaze locked onto Simon- his father's eyes for sure.

In one quick motion the chair in front of Simon was pulled out, the feet scratching harshly against the diner floor and Luci plopped down into it.

"Go ahead. Talk."

Tone of voice cold and direct- Simon cleared his throat and began his attempt to explain to Lucien best he could. Though it wasn't exactly an easy subject to tackle.

Though after his genuine attempt at explaining he noticed that Lucien hadn't responded at all, gaze still drilling into Simon.

Luci wanted so bad to just forgive his father- but all those years of pain and anger just wouldn't let him, like a festered wound and torn stitches in his heart. All Simon's words sounded like were excuses to him at this point, eighteen years for all this to build up.

A whole eighteen years dealing with everything on his own.

Simon kept eye contact as he could see the pain in those hazel eyes, however there was also a darkness looming- an unyielding storm.

Hatred.

"You left us."

"I know-"

"No. No you fucking don't."

Fists clenching until knuckles turned white, a burning sensation in the back of his eyes tears threatening to form. That broken little boy still inside him.

"She had no one. She raised me by herself. You were never there, you don't know the hell we went through. You don't know."

Simon sat in silence listening closely, knowing he needed to let this out.

"You don't fucking get it!!! You didn't even show up for her funeral!"

That word struck something within Simon, a wave of disbelief washing over him and more pain crawling into his heart.

She's dead...?

A joyless chuckle escaped Lucien as he stood up abruptly, chair nearly falling over and other people looking at them now but he frankly didn't care.

"That's right- you didn't even know she died, did you? Too busy off god knows where leaving your kid and the woman who fucking loved you behind to fend for themselves."

His tears felt like acid burning at the edges of his eyes as he tried not to cry, turning and storming out of the diner and heading back home. He didn't even notice whether or not Simon tried to call out for him.

He just needed to go home. Now.

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{Lucien is my baby I love him sm he needs a hug so fucking bad. Also yes this is gonna be a series.}

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{@sofasoap }

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{More Content}

[hinataoc]

Kingdom Hearts OC Week Day 6 - Alphabet Prompt - Fairy

We’re nearing the end of @khoc-week​ and I’ve had such a lovely time this year. One more day to go!

But for today, it’s Fairy Hinata!

This is Hinata’s Christmas Town design, She became the Sugar Plum Fairy from the Christmas ballet, Nutcracker. When she arrives in Christmas Town, she struggles to control her wings. They arrive there fresh out of escaping the nightmares and Hinata is working through a lot of anxieties from it. 

I had the idea that the magic in Christmas Town works similarly to that of Neverland. Rather than being an elemental power, it instead revolves around your emotions. At first, Hinata’s wings make her thrash around and fly without even meaning to. She has no control over them due to all of her pain and uncertainty. But as she works things out, she realizes it’s connected to her heart. 

"I'm not sure if your flight works the same way mine does, but from what I've learned, it's a special kind of magic. Rather than being an outside element you can draw on, it's rooted inside your heart." Hinata placed her hand along her chest and closed her eyes. "If you focus, you can feel it there, faintly. It's like an echoing beat of your heart."

It takes her a bit to figure this out on her own. She has a bit of help from a couple of baby reindeer she’s told she has to train how to fly by Santa’s grumpy head elf Hermey. 

Below the cut, I’ll post the scene from Chapter 26 of Forgotten Traveler. First though, I’ll reshare the reference of Hinata’s Christmas Town design that @amyhayanora​ and I co-designed. 

Scene from Forgotten Traveler Chapter 26

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Whistling wind swirled around Hinata, making her flight up the mountain more difficult than it already needed to be. She squinted her eyes against the ridgid snowfall. The golden glow from the reindeer cabin lighted her way, beckoning her through the storm. She wanted to grumble to herself about how she got herself into this situation and even more unsavory things about Hermey in particular, but the prospect of getting a mouthful of ice kept it confined to her thoughts.

Her wings buzzed against her back, their movement only creating more of a breeze for the snow to get caught up in. Still, the chill of the cold wasn't hitting her as harshly as she expected it would. It was even more surprising given the lack of layers the magic drive dressed her in. Candycane swirl leggings and a short puffy dress didn't exactly spell out warmth, but somehow they did the trick to keep Hinata from being bitten by the frost.

The reindeer cabin began to take shape up ahead, though difficult to make out through the blizzard. It was built into the mountainside, much larger than it seemed from the ground. Hinata tried to make out its details, but decided to instead focus on the glow to light her way. She pushed forward, determined to get out of the snow. As she neared the mountain she noticed snowflakes landing on what appeared to be nothing but air. She tilted her head and slowed to a stop, noticing more and more snowflakes landing on an invisible dome right in front of her.

Reaching out her hand she tentatively touched the snowflakes and a shimmer of iridescent light rippled across the dome. With an excited flutter to her wings, Hinata flew forward. For a single moment a wet sensation covered her body. She gasped, blinking wildly before realizing there wasn't a speck of snow falling in front of her.

With a grin, she spun around and gently waved her hand through the dome barrier. The iridescent light sparkled around her fingers. "Magic, of course." She brought back her hand and rubbed her fingertips together. "I should have known."

Without the howling wind, Hinata could hear the crackling of a fire and the clop of reindeer hooves not far behind her. A spark of excitement ignited inside of her and she turned around, finally able to see the cabin in its entirety. Thick logs and panels made up its exterior, creating several buildings, each connected and decorated to the nines with garland and candy canes. In the center of it all appeared to be the landing platform. It jutted out with polished wood, reflecting the light of the fireplace further in.

Hinata made her way towards it, struggling to lower onto the platform itself once she arrived. A few of the elves inside paused their chores, watching amused as Hinata kicked her feet in an attempt to reach the floor.

"Calm down, calm down," Hinata muttered under her breath, coaxing herself to relax.

Her wings gradually slowed and she stumbled onto the platform. Clearing her throat, she stood up straight and smoothed out her dress, flashing a smile to all the staring elves. They chuckled before getting back to work.

Walking further in, Hinata went towards the fireplace. Handmade stockings hung from the mantle, each one embroidered with a different reindeer name that Hinata recognized from carols—except for two smaller stockings on the end that read Holly and Jolly.

"Even the reindeer get presents." She ran her thumb over the embroidery, smiling to herself.

"Sweet Jiminy Christmas!" A woman's heavily accented voice spoke up behind her. "Hermey told me we'd be gettin some help around here. Coulda told me it would be the Sugar Plum Fairy herself!"

Hinata looked over her shoulder, taking a moment to remember to glance down to see an elf beaming up at her. The elf seemed older than any of the other elves Hinata had seen, with a knitted shawl wrapped around her shoulders and gray hair done up in a bun with a pair of candy canes. Hinata's smile grew at the sight of her and she turned around completely before kneeling to be eye level with her.

Before Hinata could say anything, the elf patted Hinata's hand. "We are just so happy to have ya dear. Look atcha, done up like the princess ya are in the play."

"Thank you," Hinata quickly cut in before the woman continued. "But actually, you should know I'm not the fairy from the play. I look like her, but I'm not actually her. I don't want anyone to feel like they have to treat me differently because they think I'm the performer."

The woman blinked a few times. "Well that don't make a lick of sense."

Hinata stifled a laugh. "Fair." She mulled it over for a moment, before saying, "Well I suppose we'll just say, don't feel like you need to give me any special treatment?"

She pointed towards Hinata. "That I do understand. What should I tell everyone to call ya?"

"Hinata is fine. And you are?"

"Josie, or Granny Jo accordin' to the youngins around here that think they're funny." She shook her head and whispered, "They're not."

"Josie it is," Hinata replied with a laugh.

Josie chuckled and sent her a wink before turning around. "Well then, follow me Hinata. I'll show ya to Holly and Jolly."

Hinata found out rather quickly that taking normal steps would put her ahead of Josie, so she considerably slowed her pace and took the time to instead look around. Elves scurried past them, much faster than Hinata's guide, with stacks of hay and buckets of oats balancing precariously in their arms. Entering the adjacent building to the landing zone, Hinata finally got to see the reindeer for herself. They were thinner than she expected them to be—with twig-like legs and narrow heads—but still just as cute as she imagined. Each one had its own spacious stable, decorated with carrots done up with ribbons. Then in front of each door hung a hand painted sign with their name in calligraphy.

Past the stables they entered a cylindrical room. A staircase spiraled up along the walls, leading to ledges Hinata had to crane her neck to see. Cushions and piles of hay covered the floor, making it difficult to walk, and as Hinata went further in, she realized the walls were padded too.

"This here is where you'll be trainin the little guys," Josie said.

Hinata nodded. "This seems like the perfect place for it."

"Sure is." Josie sighed with a smile, then clapped. "Welp, I'll be seein ya. Got things to do."

"Oh"—Hinata glanced over her shoulder—"who is the elf I should be waiting for?"

"What elf?" Josie asked.

Hinata chuckled nervously. "The one that I will be helping train Holly and Jolly?"

Josie stared back at her as if something strange had crawled onto Hinata's face. A silence stretched and Hinata kept waiting for a reply, hoping Josie's old age gave her a momentary lapse in memory.

"It's just me…?" Hinata finally asked.

Josie crossed her arms. "See anyone else 'round here that can fly?"

Hinata sucked in her lips and blew them out with a pop. "I think there might have been a slight miscommunication somewhere—I'm happy to help, but I am not qualified, in any way, to handle this by myself. I don't know what Hermey told you—"

"He told me you'd try to get out of it," Josie interrupted with a cackle of a laugh. "Oh that old coot is usually a pain in my rump, but when he's right it's a hoot."

"I promise I am not trying to get out of it," Hinata quickly addressed. "All I'm saying is that I just learned to fly half an hour ago."

"You made it here!"

"Barely!"

Josie tapped her foot impatiently, a similar habit Hinata attributed to Hermey, but perhaps, she realized, should be more appropriately attributed to elves in general. "Why did ya fly all the way up here if ya weren't plannin on helpin?"

"Once again, I am happy to help," Hinata explained. "I just don't think I should be expected to train alone. Unless you for some reason expect your new upcoming reindeer to fly uncontrollably. Because that's what you will be getting with me in charge."

With a roll of her eyes, Josie waved her off and turned to walk away. "You're sellin yourself short, sweetheart."

"I'm really not!" Hinata called as a pair of wooden doors shut behind Josie.

The scrape of the doors against the floor grated against her ears. She winced from the sound, then found herself completely alone. Blowing out a breath, she backed up several steps until she was in the center of the room.

"Not the worst place to be left, I guess," she mumbled. "Should I just leave?" She craned her neck to see the higher platforms. "One of those has to have a way out…"

A way out…

The halls of Kamino flashed through her mind and with a sharp breath, Hinata wound her arms around herself. She shivered, swallowing thickly. Suddenly, even the vaulted ceiling seemed much too confining.

Hinata's feet lifted off the ground. Her entire body careened side to side, smashing into the wall. She gripped the extra fabric of the cushioned wall and steadied herself, only then realizing how loud her heart pounded in her ears along with her wings batting erratically behind her.

"Get a hold of yourself," she scolded under her breath, a lump choking her throat.

Even with the chiding, her wings continued, lifting her higher against her control. Then the doors scraped against the floor and a pair of fluffy reindeer trotted excitedly into the training arena. They were considerably smaller than the fully grown reindeer Hinata had seen earlier. Their coats were still fuzzy and their eyes large and innocent. They hopped around, their bleats bouncing off the walls as they searched for something, or someone. Hinata's grip on the wall lessened considerably. Her shoulders relaxed and her wings slowed.

"I'm up here," she called down to them, realizing her entire body was beginning to lower as her wings subsided. Kneeling to their level once she reached the ground, she giggled as both the reindeer immediately jumped into her lap. They were so soft, she thought. "Holly and Jolly, I take it?"

With a bleat, they both puffed out their chests, proudly showcasing the shimmering name tags fastened around their necks. Holly was just a bit smaller than Jolly, Hinata noted, and noticeably fluffier; while Jolly had a darker shade of fur.

"Well I don't have a fancy name tag," she said, "but I'm Hinata. I'm going to try my best to help you both learn how to fly."

They hopped out of her lap and sat like a dog would awaiting a treat. Hinata looked between them with an amused and curious smile as she stood back up. She brushed off the loose straw stuck to her dress and surveyed the room. The pinstriped stair railing caught her eye and she turned back towards her students.

"Alright, so, maybe let's start with seeing where both of you are at." She clapped her hands together in front of her, attempting to seem like she knew what she was doing. "Show me how far up the staircase you can fly and we'll go from there."

She watched their reactions, unsure how much they could understand. Jolly seemed to get enough of a jist as he stood up and shook his body, sending straw in every direction, much to Holly's dismay. Wiggling his tail, he readied himself before leaping forward. Hinata backed up, expecting a flight, but instead Jolly flopped straight to the ground.

"Ah," she realized. "So we're really new to this." Kneeling back down, she helped Jolly up then folded her hands in her lap. "Which is ok. I'm new to it, too. Maybe we can figure it out together."

Holly whined in such a way that it seemed like asking a question. Hinata looked at her and stifled a laugh at her tilted head.

"Yeah, I'm not a very experienced flier or teacher, for that matter," Hinata confessed with a lopsided smile and a shrug. "But I'm here and you two need help, so, let's figure it out."

Holly and Jolly awaited her instruction, or maybe they didn't have a clue what Hinata was babbling about and were entranced by the strange tall fairy talking to them. Both seemed equally likely in Hinata's mind, but she continued regardless.

"I'm not sure if your flight works the same way mine does, but from what I've learned, it's a special kind of magic. Rather than being an outside element you can draw on, it's rooted inside your heart." She placed her hand along her chest and closed her eyes. "If you focus, you can feel it there, faintly. It's like an echoing beat of your heart."

She peeked an eye open and was pleasantly surprised to see both of their eyes shut.

"Can you feel it?" she asked, grinning when both of them opened their eyes and nodded enthusiastically. "That's great! That's the magic that will help you fly. It's tricky to control, it's something I'm still working on myself, but that's the root of it."

She moved her legs from under her so she could sit completely and leaned forward, knowing now they could fully understand her. "Ok, so, the tricky part is that your emotions can interfere with it depending on how intense or sudden they are. That's something that will probably get better with practice and understanding. Intense emotions send you flying like crazy, calming down slows things—well, down. But to start, just focus on that beating magic and reach out to it. See what happens."

Holly and Jolly looked at each other, then shut their eyes. Hinata waited in nervous anticipation, drumming her fingers against her leg. Her wings batted against her back, but not frantic enough to lift her off the ground. A warm glow emanated from Jolly's coat. His fur fluffed as if air was being blown up from underneath him. Then his body raised off the ground, his legs hanging limply beneath him, until he opened his eyes and realized where he was. He cheered, kicking his hooves and prancing through the air.

Hinata gasped. "Yes!" she cheered along with him, flying up beside him without even having to try. Her wings glowed brilliantly behind her, along with her tattoo against her cheek. She hardly noticed between the sheer joy elating her heart and the sight of the tiny reindeer dancing around the room. "That's it, Jolly!"

A crash beneath them cut through Hinata's excitement. Looking towards the sound, she spotted Holly just a few inches off the ground, flailing her legs wildly, kicking straw and cushions across the room. Hinata swooped down and grasped Holly's sides, steadying her. Holly bleated with frustration, her entire body drooping.

"Hey, it's alright." Hinata cradled Holly in the nook in her arm. "You should have seen me the first time I realized I had wings—which admittedly was not that long ago.."

Holly whined, her body trying to rise higher, but Hinata held her in place. She could sense the magic emanating off of Holly's body. It felt different from Jolly's, which was warm and infectious with joy. Instead, Hinata sensed it was nearly identical to hers—uncontrollable like a whirlwind. Letting out a breath, Hinata lowered both of them to the ground, noting how much easier it was than before but she wasn't sure why.

Sitting quietly beside Holly, Hinata watched Jolly continue to fly above them. He kicked off the walls, twirling and dancing while continuing to cheer. The sound bounced off the walls and though it made Hinata smile, she couldn't help but notice how Holly only seemed to retreat further into herself from it.

"You've been having a hard time, haven't you?" Hinata asked softly. Holly let out a heavy breath and Hinata gently scratched the fur behind her ears. "I'm sorry."

Hinata wasn't sure what to say next. There were plenty of platitudes she could express, encouragement and promises that things would work out. But every time she thought of one, it wisped away with not being genuine enough. Though she was sure Holly's inner turmoil wasn't nearly as life altering as her own, even telling her she'd figure it out seemed wrong to say.

"You can't… let it control you," Hinata said finally. "That doubt and frustration. Even if it seems like nothing is working the way you want it to. The best thing to do is to keep moving forward. Find the silver linings that make it all worth it and focus on that." She looked up at Jolly and chuckled. "You know, I think that's exactly why Jolly figured it out so fast. His optimism overpowered any doubts he might have had." Holly peeked up as Hinata continued, "I noticed it myself when I got excited to see him flying. Before it was difficult to control my wings, but in that moment it happened without a second thought." Hinata grinned and lifted Holly up to be at eye level. "That's what we're missing—joy!"

Holly blinked several times, tilting her head side to side. With a giggle, Hinata placed Holly back on the ground and knelt in front of her.

"I know that everything seems overwhelming right now, but think of the happiest thought. Think about why you're doing all of this, why you want to fly and who you're doing it for. Think about the presents and Christmas and all of the things that make you forget the rest of the world is even happening."

Before Hinata even finished talking a warmth emanated off of Holly's body. Her fur fluffed up just like Jolly's had earlier. Hinata could nearly cry, her hands clasped together in front of her mouth as she watched Holly lift off the ground. Holly fluttered her eyes open, looking around frantically before she lit up and twirled through the air.

"You're doing it, Holly!" Hinata called out, jumping up and down.

Jolly immediately noticed Holly up there with him and flew over to celebrate. Hinata watched from below, a grin clear across her face. Her wings fluttered behind her back, glowing softly and allowing her to hover. Looking over her shoulder at them, she hummed with an understanding appreciation, then flew up to join the reindeer. The happiness in her heart resonated around her. She could feel its warmth, the exhilarating life it rushed into her movements. Her wings were an extension of her, not something she needed to fight to control. She spun and flipped with a whoop, laughing at her childish antics, but continued as Holly and Jolly followed suit.

They went higher and higher, reaching the ledges that seemed so daunting and far away before. It wasn't long until they neared the rafters at the ceiling and where the spiral staircase reached its end.

"We did it!" Hinata cheered, grasping the rafter as Holly and Jolly arrived seconds later.

"Ya sure did!" Josie yelled, startling the three of them.

Hinata looked over to see a room the spiral staircase led to. There she saw Josie, along with all the stable elves and grown up reindeer awaiting them. Decorated tables of cake and presents stood in the center of them all, along with a banner that read, 'Congratulations Holly and Jolly!', across it.

The two young reindeer looked between each other with the biggest smiles Hinata ever imagined a reindeer could have. They flew over and Hinata followed. She landed behind them, smiling graciously as the elves thanked and congratulated her while a plate of cake was placed into her hands.

"What did I say?" Josie asked, nudging Hinata's leg with her elbow. "You were sellin yourself short."

Hinata smiled, watching Holly and Jolly show off their new flying tricks to the other reindeer. "I guess I was."

[aliypop]

That's Alright for Such a Night

(Rewrite Chapter 4)

Word Count: 3,132

Writers Note: So far I'm enjoying rewriting this

Warning: mostly fluff / Historic Language and Values

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Plot: During the Louisiana Hayride two breakout stars meet in a rush only to learn they've dealt their cards in the hands of fate.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Arkansas, 1955

"You need to take your advice." Elvis looked at her, " I mean, Cece, You're so confident in yourself," he brushed his hand against hers, "But sometimes you're not." he shrugged as she pouted.

"That's not true!" Cecelia grumbled,

Elvis sighed as he looked into her eyes; it was like he could see right through her, and she hated it. Cecelia tried hard to hide her emotions, but she wore them clearly on her sleeves, and he knew it because he did too, the beautiful storm in her mind was swirling and whirling around through her eyes, and he could see it. Elvis wanted to do everything he could to take the hurt and worry away, but how, he wondered without damping her shine.

"On stage, you're so sure of yourself and so confident it almost comes off as cocky." Watching as she got silent, he worried that he might have offended her. 

"

I'm not cocky," Cecelia nearly snapped at him. 

"Not saying you were." Elvis said, "I'm just saying that you don't have to prove yourself to anyone." 

"I'm not trying to." Cecelia turned away from him, and Elvis let out another deep sigh, 

Cecelia was stubborn, but so was he, he wasn't going to give up on her, 

 "You don't have to impress me, not your group, not even your fans, not your mama, and not the damn magazine you're hiding under your comic book."

"I-"

"I can see the tears, Cece." Elvis stood up. Elvis placed his hand on her cheek and rubbed circles on it. Cecelia was fantastic and more than what any paper could say about her.  

"So Val."

"Yeah, Pres."

"Tell me what's wrong."

Cecelia took a deep sigh as she then looked up at Elvis; his eyes were as comforting as his touch that she almost leaned into, "When I flip those pages and those hateful things they say about me, like how I'm a sellout, or how I'm abandoning the Negro ways, it tears my heart out." tears running down her face, his thumb catching them and wiping them away. 

"I wish I could go up there and sing and be fearless like you." She coughed from her sobbing, "And not have to worry about things like that!"

"You think I'm fearless; I get stage fright when they say to the stage, Elvis Presley." he took a deep breath, "And don't get me started on the papers and what they say about me." He laughed, and all her grey clouds turned to sunlight. 

"You have stage fright?"

"Badly."

"What do you do when it gets bad," Cecelia asked as he took her by the hand, his eyes catching a piano in the lobby; the piano was home to him; Elvis could get lost for hours tickling the ivories. 

"I get lost in my music," Elvis smiled.

"Any song in particular?"

"Not really." he shrugged,

" What about when the press gets touchy and tough to handle?"

"I get lost in my music even more." patting a seat next to him, Cecelia sat down and laid her head on his shoulder; Elvis then began to play a song she had heard too many times growin up but still loved it so much. 

"Why don't you swing down, sweet chariot, stop, and let me ride." Cecelia sang out, giggling; there was nothing more freeing than the gospel, and that was something Elvis could agree to,

 "Rock me, lord, rock me, lord, calm and easy. I've got a home on the other side." The two then kept singing, and as the minutes turned into hours, Cecelia was on top of the piano, pretending to serenade him, much like she had seen in the movies, 

" Dream a little dream of me." Cecelia sang as Elvis stared at her in awe. This was the side of her he enjoyed, the free spirit, the sweetheart who was shy yet bold, the girl who could sing in a cabaret, and steal every heart but only want one, 

"HEY WHAT'S ALL THAT RUCKUS!"

"RUN!"Cecelia and Elvis ran through the lobby with their belongings in hand as he raced her toward his room. 

"HEY YOU!"

Cecelia pushed open the door as she pulled Elvis in, both of their laughter intoxicating each other, 

"You okay?" Cecelia asked as the two kept laughing, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, what about you?" he laughed, sitting on the bed. 

Cecelia tried to look everywhere else in the room except at him

 His legs spread open, and the slight sheen of sweat, Elvis was giving her a fire. Cecelia knew he could satisfy it. It was just up to her to reach out and taste it if she wanted to, and she wanted to. 

"Cece.?"

Her mind wandered to what this forbidden fruit tasted like did he truly want her or-

"Cecelia!"

"Huh!" she jumped, falling into his lap. Elvis laughed as he held her.

"Sorry, Cece." he chuckled, "You were starin' into space." he then leaned in closer, "What were you thinking about?"

"Me? Thinking about something?" Her face flushed as their eyes met again, "I, uh, should get to bed," 

"There's one right here."

"Pres, what are you implying!"

"You can sleep here if you'd like." his charming smile made her heart skip a beat, 

"I can sleep over there an-"

"No, you sleep in the bed, I'll sleep over there on the couch." Cecelia smiled,

"You sure," he watched Cecelia as she grabbed a blanket and tried to make do with the feel of the couch, 

"I'm completely comfy." she lied through her teeth as she tossed and turned.

 Elvis was slowly falling asleep until he heard a thud. 

"Cece, the hell was that!"

"Just gettin comfy." she lied as he looked down on the floor, her scarf nearly coming off her head. 

"Well...I'm sure the carpets are comfy." he sighed, "But not as much as a bed is..." Cecelia grumbled as she pulled the cover on top of her,

"Cece, why don'tcha just lay here and quit being stubborn."

"I'm not stubborn!" her voice muffled,

"Mhmm..." he nodded, "More stubborn than a jackass."

"You talk to your mama with that mouth, Presley!" she acted shocked,

"I do, an you're switchin' subjects, Valmos!" he leaned in, "So tell me why..."

Cecelia took a deep breath, "Cause I've never really been that close to a guy." she sighed, 

Cecelia knew Elvis would see her as just a friend, especially with all his escapades she'd either heard of or damn near witnessed or worse, Snuck off with Midge's car to get his dates all douched out.

"So you never?"

"No... No, I've messed around a bit," she laughed, "I mean, who hasn't, but slept next to a man, well uh. I've never really had any guy around me long enough to do that-" she stopped herself from rambling, 

"Well, I won't bite unless I have to." he joked, extending his arm out,

 Cecelia reached over for it,

 "Is this okay?" she asked, her arm over his waist,

"Y-Yeah Th-that's alright." he blushed, holding her close as she began to yawn, 

"Elvis..."

"Hmm..."

"Whys the sun up..."

"Shit..." the two both laughing. Cecelia cuddled in close to Elvis, her head on his chest. She liked the way he felt next to her, and he liked how she smelled of roses. "Cece?" Elvis asked as she softly sighed,

"Yeah, El,"

"N-Nothing doll." 

 Mississippi September 8th, 1955

"Daphne, Rosa," Midge shouted as the two young women appeared from the dressing room. Midge was holding in her laughter as two young girls were trying their hardest not to cuss out whoever had them dressed as,

"Aw, look if it isn't Howdy Doody!"

"What in the hillbilly hell is this," Rosa grumbled, she hated the way her dress fit, and the white fringe with the black jean material was driving her up a wall,

"This feels like a joke," Daphne sighed, looking at her aunt. Midge thought her outfit was cute, and she had a matching little hat with her scarf around her neck, 

"Just smile and play. Hey, where's Cece?" 

"Damnit, it's in my eye again, Scotty!" Elvis grumbled. Trying to do his makeup. It was something he was still getting the hang of, 

"Maybe try not getting it into your eyes?" 

"Geez, thanks." Elvis groaned, "Bill, what color goes with black?"

"Have you tried Topaz? Cosmopolitan says it's a good color for blue eyes, " Cecelia said from the doorway, "Need help, Pres?" 

"God does he," Bill said,

"We'll meet you on the stage." Scotty and Bill left Cecelia and Elvis alone, 

"Here, you sit down, and I'll make your face up." Elivs sat as he looked up at Cecelia, who took a seat in his lap. Elvis had turned red, but he tried to stay still. Her body was perfect, but so was her soft features. He could see how she was fixing to make him even more handsome. 

"Okay, so the first thing you want to remember to do is your lashes." she said, "At least I start with mine first," putting the mascara on him as it began to bring even more life to his features,

"Yeah I know that." he sassed as Cecelia looked down at him, 

"Clearly not. You were trying to use it to line your eyes..."

"You uh saw that?"

"Mhmm." She giggled a little, putting the eyeliner pencil under his eye,

"You'll poke my eye with that thing." 

"Eh, you'll be fine, just look up." Elvis looked up, and he hadn't fully realized that Cecelia was in her petticoat and whatever else girls wore under their dresses, "Eyes are up here, Pres." she said as she reached for her eyeshadow. It was a nice color, not too light and not too dark, perfect enough for the lights to focus on his eyes, 

"Wasn't looking mama," Elvis winked as she playfully hit him,

"Elvis! You've messed up the shadow!" she huffed, "Now I have to smudge the other side." Cecelia took her finger and smudged it a bit. A gasp left her lips, and Elvis laughed. 

"My eyes are up here," he leaned in, his lips nearly brushing hers. Cecelia could feel his breath on the top of her lip, and Cecelia wanted to give in, 

"I know, they're really pretty-"

"HEY!" Scotty shouted,

the two broke apart as she shook her head. It was like she was hypnotized by Elvis Presley.

"I, uh, I-I..."

"Yeah, me too..." 

"Cecelia's going to be late." Midge said, walking out towards Rosa, and Daphane was Cecelia, dressed in red Gangham, "I mean, it's kinda cute." Cecelia smiled, shining off her cowboy boots. 

"Of course, your North Carolinian ass would say that." Rosa rolled her eyes. Rosa was mad that Cecelia could pull anything you gave her off. 

"Howdy, ladies." a slight laugh coming from backstage

"Johnny Cash," Rosa swooned as Midge groaned, watching her tip her hat to him,  

"I thought she hated the outfit," Midge mumbled to herself,

"That's the fourth laugh." Daphne groaned, "We look ridiculous..."  

"It's still kinda cute-"

"Well, if it ain't Howdy Doody and the gang." Elvis joked, walking by.

"Did Hank's team send other choices?" Cecelia stormed off. 

"Come on, you three sound checks in a minute."

"See, it's ugly, ain't it." Rosa cackled.

"We'd like to bring a special group to perform this last song with us." Elvis smiled. Cecelia could see he was shaking like a leaf up there. He'd told about how this venue was either lively or dead, and God she'd hope they were lively.

 "Cecelia and The Garnets," Elvis announced, trying to hold in his laughter from their outfits from earlier, Rosa walked by wearing a red Gingham dress and a red bow in her hair as she waved to the crowd, Scotty nearly drooling.

 Daphne soon followed, wearing an all-black skirt with a blouse covered in fringe. Cecelia was walking in with a fiddle in hand with a gingham print wiggle dress and matching shoes, Cheryl had decided to damn near wrap Cecelia in the dress, with the way it clung to her. 

Oh, if her mother could see her, she'd been a bit frowned up at her daughter. 

"Our newest hit is a Hank Williams song, and I hope you folks enjoy it." 

 Cecelia focused on Elvis as she remembered what he told her. Cecelia had nothing to prove. All she had to do was get lost in the music, get lost with him, nobody else but him. Dancing next to Elvis, she caught him winking at her, Cecelia had then winked back at him as giggled.

This was a performance she'd cherish.

Florida August 1956

"Make way for Cecelia Valmos and the Garnets," Midge shouted, walking the girls down. Things had been successful for Cecelia, her first musical movie had been released. She had several new hit singles and was the talk of every town she'd toured. Cecelia was making a name for herself, and it was thanks to her manager who was her mother, but there was still a void in her chest, while she was no longer touring with Elvis and the Blue Moon Boys, she had been trying to keep in touch as best as she could with letters and trying to sneak out to rehearsals to see him and miss him every time. 

              "Can we have your autograph!" 

                                         "Can we get a picture!"

Cecelia nodded as she took pictures with her group and the fans. Looking toward the stage. Cecelia saw a familiar silhouette, but she shook her head. She just missed a friend, a friend whom she wanted to tell that it felt horrible every time she'd see him with another girl who wasn't her, or how badly she wanted to be his.

Wearing her now iconic pencil dress, she walked towards the dressing room as she heard the screams of fun from the carnival. Cecelia hadn't been to one in so long. Well not since she had dated that one actor, or was it a singer? Either way, she'd perform her new original hits for her fans and hopefully enjoy the carnival alone with no one to talk to. 

"Cil, where are you going!" Daphne asked as they had finished their set, 

"Clearing my head." Cecelia sighed, Rosa knew what that meant. Cecelia was overwhelmed or overthinking, 

"Well, be back before Mrs. Valmos finds out!" she sighed, seeing they were gone, 

Walking toward the carnival, Cecelia had felt lonelier than she ever did.

 Seeing the couples and getting stopped for autographs was the life she wanted, but she wanted to be held. She wanted what everyone else had wanted, love,

"Is that Mr. Presley alone, by himself?" Rosa smirked,

"Where!" Cecelia turned to look in his direction.

"Right there by the hall of mirrors," Rosa smiled as her eyes then found Scotty as she joined him.

Cecelia slowly walked towards the building where he was, her shoulders chilly from the off-shoulder dress she was wearing,

"Is this wall taken?" 

"U-Uh, no." Elvis responded, "It's a public wall,"

"You come here often?"

"First time here, really?" he huffed, hoping the person talking to him would secretly leave him alone. "You."

"Yeah, it is, pres?" Pres? There was only one person who called him that! As Elvis turned around, he saw Cecelia picking her up off the ground like he was Captain Marvel Jr. 

"Cece!"

"El!" she gasped, holding onto him, he was holding her tightly as he peppered kisses all over her face, 

"You look amazing, Cece!" he put her back down on the ground as she blushed, 

"So do you."

"Would you wanna catch up?"

"I'd love to." Brushing his hand against hers, Cecelia took hold of it. Elvis smiled at her, her head on her shoulder as the two continued to walk together,

"So RCA, huh..." Cecelia looked at him, "That's big time compared to Sun Records, not that I didn't enjoy that era." Elvis bit some of her funnel cake as he then laughed,

Yeah, my manager figured it'd be a good idea."

"This is the same one who's been telling you to change into a family-friendly Elvis?"

Elvis scratched the back of his head, Cecelia chuckled a little,

 "Yeah," he sighed,

"Well, I personally like the real Elvis." she mentioned as she blushed, "The frantic movements and the hips," she bit her lip, "Drives me wild."

"I-It does?"

"Yeah, but at least they don't call you Lady Elvis."

"Lady, what?" he burst into laughter.

"Ha ha chalk it up, big guy." She rolled her eyes, pushing him away from her.

"It suits you, Lady Presley." He chuckled, "Speaking of which, are you seeing anyone?" his heart was pounding at his own question, 

"No, I'm not actually seeing anyone." Cecelia responded, "Are you?" she asked, seeing him turn red in the face, his cheekbones ever so tempting, 

"Actually, for once, I'm not Cece..." He said, carrying the bear, he had won her on his back.

"Would you like to see someone..."

"If that someones you, yes," Elvis smirked, holding her close to him, 

"You askin me to be your girl Pres?"

"Yeah, I am," he got down on one knee, "Cecelia Shanel Valmos, will you be my girl?" Cecelia blushed hard as she nodded,

"Yes, I will," picking her up, he began to carry her to a ride,

"You ever been on a Ferris wheel," he asked,

"Pres, you know how I feel about heights like that..."

"You scared?" He leaned his face closer toward hers,

"Yes." she gulped. Elvis could hear Cecelia mumbling, but he had to end the night with something fun, something memorable. 

"Cece it ain't that bad it just rocks a little and-"

"It goes to the top, and it stays there..." she grumbled, "Elvis, you will not get me on that damned-"

"You two are next." 

"Thing." Cecelia closed her eyes as she felt the ride move. Cecelia was scared with the way she was clinging onto Elvis, though he liked how close she was to him, "It's okay, doll, I gotcha." 

"Do you."

"Always will, just look at me." 

Cecelia looked into his eyes as she felt that burning yearning feeling for him. He could feel it too. As he felt himself lean in closer toward her, he was greeted by a pair of soft plump lips on top of his own, his hands holding her close. 

"Elvis..." her voice rasped out,

"Yes, doll..."

"Kiss me again..." he did so as the carriage of the ride came to a complete stop they could hear their bandmates cheering for them,

"You know somethin,"

"What's that doll..."

"I've been wantin to kiss you since the day we met,"

"You wanna know something, mama?"

"What's that."

"Me too."

Taglist: If you wanna be tagged let me know!

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[pandoradoesotherstuff]

4 Times Night Almost Told Moon he Loved her and The One Time he Did.

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

A/N: The God of Charm got his turn, so of course, the God of Night had to be next! Although Charm's was more fluffy, I still like Night's one too. 6 who doesn't love some OC fun?

Enjoy!❤️

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

Night is slumped in his chair, looking surprisingly dishevelled for once in his life, waving his hands around haphazardly as he told Moon a ridiculous story from long long ago. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to him, giggling at his words and leaning against his legs to stop herself from falling sideways. He knew he should probably stop drinking and go to bed, but her company was so enjoyable, her tinkling laugh infectious. Night couldn’t pull himself away even if he wanted to. They had been playing a dangerous game tonight, flirting and talking all evening, exchanging heated glances across the room. He was married, this wasn’t right but the feeling in his chest wouldn’t leave. The warmth of unexpressed feelings, the guilt, the anger, the alcohol. It was all swirling in his system, making a dangerous situation even worse. 

“And that was even before the racoon and the unicyclist got involved!”

Night burst out laughing, almost sliding off his seat onto the floor, wine slopping out his glass messily. It was the dumbest joke he’d ever heard but damn if it didn’t crack him up the way she told it. 

“If you keep telling jokes like that, Moon, I’ll leave. Whether I lo-”

There was a pause as Night caught himself before he said too much. The room felt like it was spinning, he could see Moon watching him from the corner of his eye, he needed to get out of there. He stands up quickly, grabbing the arm of the chair to stop himself from falling over. 

“It’s getting late. I uh, I gotta go”. 

Moon watches in silence as Night staggers through the now almost vacant meeting room.

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

The room is filled with quiet gasps and groans as the two beings lie almost completely intertwined on the black chaise lounge. Their legs dangle over the edge, hands roaming under clothing and through each other's hair, lips working desperately together. Moon whimpers as Night’s sharp teeth find her neck. He chuckles darkly against her skin in response. 

“Who knew you could make such a noise? I love it, I love y-”

They freeze when the door knocks suddenly, the sound of the handle jiggling causing them both to scramble to their feet, trying to make themselves as presentable as they could as quickly as they could.

“You should uh, you should leave out the other door. That’ll be Sun, you know, my wife”. 

Moon slips silently away without another word. 

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

Moon was sitting at a table in the corner a little too cozily with Charm, their heads close together as she giggled and laughed, smiled a little too flirtatiously. Night wanted to storm over there and drag her away, it was irrational and stupid and reckless and the only thought that was going through his head. Then Charm leans in and whispers something in her ear, she giggles again, hand coming up to cover her mouth as a blush settles on her cheeks. The chair screeches as Night stands up abruptly. 

“Darling?” Sun asks, alarmed. 

“I just remembered something important I have to do, I’ll be back soon, dear”. He storms away without a backwards glance, making a beeline for Moon. She doesn’t look round as he stops dead next to them, clearing his throat loudly. 

“Charm, I have to talk to Moon. Leave. Now”. 

Charm holds his hands up and leaves without a word. Moon and Night were playing their usual game, and he wanted nothing to do with it. 

Moon sighs deeply, swirling her drink around but doesn’t look up at him. 

“What can I help you with, Night?” She asks, sounding unusually stiff and formal. 

“What can you help me with?!” The words came out louder than he meant too, quickly lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “You know damn well why I came over here. Sitting there all cozy with Charm. Charm! What the hell are you playing at?” He’s furious, trying hard to keep his rage and vitriol to himself. 

“You’re not my boyfriend Night”. Moon replies coldly, mirroring words he’d said to her himself earlier. “You don’t have any right to tell me what to do”. 

“That isn’t fair Moon, you know that isn’t fair. I lo-...” He cuts himself off with a sigh, this was quickly getting out of hand. His words could only make things worse right now. Never mind that he knew Sun would be watching closely from across the room. 

Night sighs deeply, pushing his glasses up as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“You’re right Moon, do what you want. I don’t own you”. 

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

It had been a stupid throwaway comment at best, about how Night thought Moon should dress more opulently. More like someone of her “status”. It wasn’t that she dressed badly, just a little too casually for his taste. Night should have known she’d make him eat his words. 

Art nudges Night as Moon walks in. 

“Your friend is here”, they tease. He gives her a warning look before turning around to greet the goddess that had finally arrived. His words catch in his throat, the breath almost leaving his body as Moon smiles innocently. 

“What?” She was wearing a midnight blue gown, adorned with moons and stars that twinkle and shone like the real thing, silver bracelets entwined and snaked up her forearms, constellations painted delicately on her eyelids. Her silver hair curled and waved around her face perfectly, clipped at the back with a realistic looking half moon clip. There’s a pause as Night just stares, Art smirking at her friend from next to him before nudging him in the ribs again. He chokes a little before finally speaking. 

“Wow, you look…beyond beautiful. I’m so glad you came, I love y-it. I. Love. It. So nice to see you but I really must check on everyone else. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later, I-I’m sure”.

Art moves to stand next to her, looping their arm in Moon’s as they watch Night quickly weave his way through the crowd to almost hide behind another god. 

“I think you broke him”. Art comments with amusement. 

“Good”.

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

Night paces back and forward behind the desk in his office, hands clasped behind his back, teeth clenched in anger. He couldn’t even look at her right now, he felt hurt and betrayed. She was supposed to be on his side about this, she was supposed to agree with him. Moon sits slumped down in the armchair in the corner, arms folded over her chest as she stares at the ceiling fan, waiting on him to finally say something. 

“How could you do this to me?” He finally asks after what felt like a millenia. “After everything…everything we’ve ever been through, everything we’ve ever felt, just when I need you most. I even pleaded with you to vote to free Phobos. But what do you do instead? You bale on me and say nothing. I can’t…I can’t even look at you right now!” Night throws himself down heavily in his chair, elbows now resting on his knees, face in his hands. Moon bristles, sitting up in her own chair to give him a dark look that he couldn’t even see. 

“I did what I thought was best, okay?! I don’t know if Phobos should be free or not, and I sure don’t know why you’re acting like what I think is important to you. We all know I’m nothing to you. A play thing at best”. She bites her lip, fighting back the tears and the upset that threatened to overwhelm her. There’s a beat of silence as Night looks up quickly, eyes wide with shock and his own hurt. Did Moon really not know…

“Nothing? You think you’re nothing to me?! Then you know even less than I thought! I love you Moon and it eats me up inside every day that I can’t do anything about it. I’m married and that’s that. You know this. I know this, Hell, all the other gods probably know this too. So next time you want to come out with something stupid like that, just remember what I said”. Night doesn’t look at her as he stands up. With a few quick strides he’s standing next to the door, quickly unlocking and opening it. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do preparing for Phobos to be released. No thanks to you”. 

“Night I-”

“-Leave”.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Damage Gets Done - SAS: Rogue Heroes x OC - Chapter 3

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |-| Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Summary: Tensions arise between Diana and her father as the SAS prepares to depart on their first mission into the desert

Relationships: L Detachment x Platonic!OC, eventual Reg Seekings x OC

Warnings: Language, smoking

Word Count: 3.1k

Tags: @20th-centu-fairy-girl

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The wind swirled and whistled in Diana's ears, drowning out the constant humming of the plane's engine as it slipped further and further away into the night sky above. She could scarcely breathe, every inhale punctuated by the pain of sand scraping against the flesh that lined her throat as the storm raged all around her, grains colliding with the glass of her goggles so hard she feared they would break.

Her hands held the straps of her parachute tightly, a silent prayer going out then suddenly fulfilled as the thin sheet of fabric caught the wind, inflating in a great canopy above her, the rapid descent suddenly slowing. She couldn't see anything - the dark clouds of sand blinding her to anything but a sea of deep blue that seemed to envelop her on all sides, the night sky indistinguishable from the desert floor below as it inevitably inched closer and closer by the second, her legs gone slack in the hopes her knees would not shatter on impact.

Somewhere to her right, Diana heard a howl of agony rise, the terrible sound gone as soon as it came, siphoned by the wind that encircled her. She opened her mouth to call out in the hopes that they could find each other, but the sand choked her, drying her mouth and clumping in her throat. Before she even had time to cough, the ground was coming up to meet her.

And then everything went dark.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The air inside the tent was tense as the survivors of the last three months of training stood quietly, waiting to be called up, waiting to board their plane as the sand storm outside battered the canvas, a high-pitched whistling piercing the silence. A few of them had taken to distracting themselves from the anxiety by tossing a handful of pebbles one by one at a row of empty beer bottles Kershaw had lined up against one side of the tent, sighing and tutting as they missed, the stones hitting the fabric with a soft thump.

Cooper's tongue was drawn between his teeth, eyes narrowed with concentration as he took his shot, the bright green glass shattering as he hit his target to a scattering of half-hearted cheers. The waiting was perhaps more torturous than the training itself had been - lingering here with nowhere to go and nothing to do, uniformed head to toe in their overalls and helmets, heavy packs piled high in one corner to save their shoulders the strain of wearing them for who knew how long.

A table had been set up by the tent's opening, atop which a field telephone began to ring. The sound drew a dozen expectant gazes, anxious for any news that would signal they might be able to leave soon. Diana did her best to ignore it, lining up her next shot with care, ready to toss her last pebble.

Pat Riley was the one to pick up, most of their more senior officers seemingly vanished, off somewhere to haggle with their would-be pilots. "Fayed," He called across the crowd. "It's your old man."

A few titters of disappointment could be heard around the room, and she let out a groan as she missed her shot, Dave letting out a chuckle at her frustration. "Tell him I'm busy, will you?" She asked, retrieving a few of her stones and dusting the sand off of them against her trousers.

"You're not busy," Pat pointed out, and she huffed irritably.

"Well just lie?"

"... He's a general, Di. I'm not risking my ass so you can do... whatever that is."

Throwing her hands up in frustration, Diana crossed the tent, taking the receiver from Pat's hand and discarding her helmet so that she could hold it to her ear. "This is a field telephone, I told you not to call me on it," She stated, sparing no time to greet her father. Over the quiet buzz of the tent, her conversation was clearly audible, and upon noticing a few men stare as a result of her frigid tone, Diana made the switch to her native tongue. "What do you want?"

"I'm a general, I can do as I please. Besides, the line was free, I'm not interrupting," Hannigan's voice came, somewhat muffled as a result of the terrible weather. He replied in English, as his spoken Arabic had never been good, and he had devoted little effort to remedying this.

"We're waiting for the planes, this better be important."

"I'm just making sure you're ready. Talk me through the jump - how to stick the landing - then go through how to clean and load your rifle for me," Her father prompted, talking as if he were one of the many tutors Diana had gone through as a girl.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Dad, I've been training for months, I don't need you to brief me."

"I'm just making sure you're ready, you-"

"Do you trust me? Do you trust that I actually know what I'm doing, or are you worried that if I fuck up it's you that'll come out looking bad?" Diana's jaw was set tightly, and she had begun to draw the eyes of the men closest to her. Although none of them understood a word she said, her hurried speech and aggravated tone were enough to set them on edge, brows furrowed with concern.

She heard her father sigh over the phone, his voice softening. When she had answered, he had spoken with all the authority of his rank, but now he sounded like a father, not a general. "I wanted to hear your voice before you go," He admitted.

Letting out a breath, she allowed her body to relax, leaning against the table. "Yeah, I get it. Listen, Dad... If this goes bad - if something happens before the next time I can see you, I-"

"Don't worry about that now, Diana. Just think about the next task at hand, nothing else is important."

"Ok, but I'm just saying - the task at hand is going to be dangerous, and if I don't make it back-"

"You will." Hannigan declared. His determination, his belief, his stubborn refusal to let her utter the words, were driving Diana to frustration, unable to say what she felt was needed, unable to part with him on her own terms. Perhaps it was fatherly affection - a man unable to cope with even the possibility of his daughter not returning to him - but there was arrogance there too. Such strong belief in his own teachings that he believed her incapable of failure, forbidding her from even entertaining such a possibility.

"Alright, whatever," Diana huffed, reverting back to English as she prepared for an unsatisfactory goodbye, the receiver already hovering further away from her face. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Goodbye, Diana," Her father's voice came, and she wasted no time waiting to see if the man had anything else to say before hanging up the line, replacing the receiver with a rough clatter.

Reg had watched the encounter from nearby, a frown drawing creases across his forehead as Diana returned to the others, muttering angrily under her breath and only half paying attention as she put her helmet back on, the strap below her chin twisted and loose as she did it back up, distracted by her own vexation. If she jumped like that, it would be a disaster. He stared for a moment, waiting for her to notice, but Kershaw had begun chattering in an attempt to lighten the mood, pulling her attention away.

He needed to fix it, but something stilled his hand. The room around them was so busy, and his acts of kindness came so rarely, that it would almost inevitably draw attention. If someone made a comment, would he be able to quell his anger? Reg knew he had a problem - albeit a problem that L Detachment valued - but he sometimes found himself treading on eggshells, wary of anything that could drive him to anger, even if, to an outsider, it would appear he remained just as rough as ever. Get the fuck over yourself, he scolded, and reached out to fix the problem.

The moment Diana felt his finger brush against her skin her talking ceased, gaze snapping towards him, confusion evident in her expression. Her brow knitted, a small crease appearing across the bridge of her nose, and her eyes were so bright - so deep and so warm, even now - that Reg almost stepped away, so taken aback he was by her. He had seen her every day for months now, but with her face so close, every freckle and feature clear to the eye, it almost seemed as if he were seeing her for the first time.

"Yer strap's all fucked," He uttered, looking away to focus on the leather band as he fixed it, untwisting the fabric and re-buckling it tight, his knuckle skimming the soft skin beneath her chin. "Jump with it like that you'll smash yer fucking skull."

"Shit, thanks," She said, tucking a stray curl back under the brim of her helmet.

"Yeah, no problem," Reg shrugged it off, looking swiftly away before the blood could make it to his cheeks, sunburn hiding the hint of a flush. Diana's gaze lingered on him for a moment as he turned his back to her, reaching up to tug the strap as tight as it could go. He had been right, and she felt foolish at having made a mistake so potentially catastrophic.

However, the brief moment of shame was swiftly dispelled when she spied Paddy, lingering by the tent's entrance, seize a pistol from the table, and duck out into the sandstorm outside. Letting out a huff, Diana shouldered her way through the crowd, tugging her goggles down to shield her eyes as she followed after him, yelling against the blustering wind.

"Paddy put the gun down," She drawled, requiring no explanation. The man was frequently impatient and always volatile, and it was clear all their time spent waiting around had become too much.

"If they make me wait another hour in that fucking tent, I swear I'm putting a bullet between their eyes," He declared, storming over to where Stirling and Lewes were already negotiating their imminent take-off with a team of disgruntled pilots.

"Oh yes?" Diana challenged, falling into step with the Irishman. "And then what - you're planning on flying us, are you?"

"Nowt but an ambitious truck, could do it in my sleep," The man yelled, the pair only just able to hear each other over the storm that encircled them.

She nodded along sarcastically, mocking his self-confidence. "Oh, wow, yes, you're so smart, how did I never think of that - Shut the fuck up!" Diana cried, pausing to spit as the wind blew a clump of sand into her mouth. They continued to bicker as they reached the other two men, and Paddy cut straight through them, coming face-to-face with one of the pilots. As he yelled, flecks of saliva landed against the other man's cheeks.

"Do you postmen have a problem with a wee bit of wind?!" He hollered, and came halfway to raising the pistol above his head before Diana grabbed his wrist, the pair glaring at each other as he failed to shake her off, her grip far stronger than he had anticipated.

"Will you fuck off?!" He yelped, attempting to tear her hand away, but upon realising this would be unsuccessful, Paddy jabbed at her shoulder, giving Diana a rough shove.

"Oh, you bitch!" She replied, striking out herself. Diana had intended to return the hit to the shoulder, but the weather was proving detrimental to her vision, and Paddy moved at just the wrong time, her hand colliding with his face with an audible smack. He looked at her with a mixture of shock and feral rage, the loaded pistol hanging between them like a time bomb, ready to go off at the next unpredictable movement. She was certain he was about to tackle her, before Jock's voice split the air.

"Will the pair of you stop scrapping like fucking children?" He snapped, and Diana released her grip on Paddy's wrist, the Irishman taking a firm step back, the pair of them pausing for a moment, standing like scolded schoolboys.

"... We have to go tonight," She called after a moment, her tone mellowed as she implored the stubborn pilot. "If we don't go, we're letting those Nazi fucks walk all over us - they'll take my home, and then they'll come for yours, I fucking guarantee it. If Tobruk falls-"

"Tobruk will not fucking fall!" Paddy interrupted.

"Aye, see, that's the spirit. They're fucking parasites and we're the cure - if we don't get in there and destroy those planes, whatever shitstorm rains down on us next is on you, am I clear?"

The pilot nodded timidly, clinging to his hat as the wind attempted to tear it away from him. "But the wind is thirty knots, half this is considered unsafe-"

"War. Is. Fucking. Unsafe!" Mayne roared, and Diana had to yank him away by the shoulder to prevent another outbreak of violence among their little group.

"Would you like to explain to General Auchinleck why his advance was unable to continue?" Stirling prodded. "Or perhaps General Hannigan? He was just on the phone with his daughter here, I'm sure we can get him back. I'm sure he'd love to hear why you're keeping her from completing her mission, eh?" He turned to Diana, brow raised as he waited for her to back him up.

"He'll be pissed," She confirmed, nodding. "Certainly got enough sway to make the rest of this war look pretty grim for you, dear."

There was no certainty that these threats would work - that they would make the pilot see their side of things rather than simply rile him further - but after a moment of thought he ceded with an uncertain nod, the idea of taking off clearly still frightening him. "Get your men boarded."

With a grin, Diana turned back towards the tent, Stirling close behind. "That went well," He admitted. "Good job."

"Arguing's one of my greatest talents," She smiled. "Apparently I make people feel insecure."

"I can see that."

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In spite of their conflict, Diana was assigned to Paddy's group for the jump, her back pressed up against the cold metal of the plane's cabin wall. The wind was proving just as difficult as the pilot had said it was, the group tossed side to side in the storm, murmurs of discomfort rising among them. A loud crack rang out just above her head, as if something hard had slammed into the side of them, and she reached out to tighten her seat belt, releasing a nervous huff.

"Hey," Dave spoke up, his elbow lightly nudging her from his seat on her left. When she looked over, he raised a single cigarette, balanced between his fingers. "Fancy one last go before we die?"

She nodded, sighing. "God, yeah."

With a grin, Kershaw paused to rummage through his pack before retrieving a lighter, the flame bursting to life in his palm as he held it to the last cigarette he had. Taking a moment to raise it to his lips, he let out a long puff of smoke before holding it out to her. Diana accepted gratefully, the familiar warmth filling her chest as she felt her heartbeat begin to relax, letting the nerves ooze out of her body.

"Y'know, I've never been on a plane before," She admitted, releasing the smoke in a great cloud.

"Oh yeah? They're not usually like this."

Diana chuckled as another tremor shook them. "I'd guessed as much."

All at once, the wind outside seemed to change direction, the plane lurching one way then the other, the men letting out a united cry of distress. From his place on her right, Eoin reached over and gently took the cigarette from her, taking a long drag of smoke before returning it as Paddy let out a chuckle at his friend's unease.

"You alright there, Eoin?" She asked, their fingertips brushing against each other as she took the cigarette from him, briefly inhaling the smoke herself before passing it back on to Dave.

"Aye, all's well," The man nodded, patting her knee with a smile. Diana liked Eoin - she liked him a lot. He was infinitely gentler than any of the other men here, aside from perhaps Jim, and always seemed to have the right words to offer when things got tough. She was glad he was here with her, glad they would be doing this mission together. Nothing felt quite so dangerous when Eoin McGonigal was there.

A few shouts from the cockpit roused Paddy's attention, and in a moment he was calling for them to stand up, to ready themselves to jump. Diana released her seatbelt, rising to her feet as she clipped her parachute to the metal bar that ran along the ceiling. Kershaw at her rear, McGonigal in front, they spared a brief moment to ensure all was sound and ready, Diana tugging on Eoin's parachute to ensure it was secure as Dave playfully rapped his knuckles on her helmet to ensure Reg had done a sufficient job of securing it. Sparing her friend one last smile over her shoulder, they began to step forward, one by one breaking free into the terrible weather outside, each figure disappearing into the darkness as if they had never been there at all.

McGonigal stepped up to the door and briefly reached behind him, finding Diana's fingers and giving them a squeeze. "See you down there!" He yelled against the wind before taking the last step, the ground disappearing beneath his feet. She watched as his parachute unfurled - a blanket of white piercing the deep blue sky - before he began to drift down and out of sight, vanishing through the clouds of sand being constantly thrown up at them.

"Alright, duck. Best of luck," She heard Kershaw call behind her, a reassuring hand patting her shoulder as Diana poked her head out of the door, her toes teetering over the edge as she stared down into the void below. With one last, deep breath, she stepped forward, her heartbeat catching in her throat as she felt everything fall away, her body beginning to plummet towards the sandy floor below as her parachute billowed outwards above her head.

But Eoin McGonigal would not be there when she landed.

[honey-milk-depresso]

Xing (Genshin OC)

Just makin’ a quick bio-

“It’s about time you go away, pal.”

Name: Xing 

Gender: Male

Age: 47 (Yeah, he’s old-)

Birthday: 14 November

Originated from: Fontaine (previously), but was born in Liyue first before moving to Fontaine

Currently living in: Liyue (yeah he went back after so long- sort of-)

Eye color: Yellow (didn’t show lmao-)

Hair color: Silver (again didn’t show-)

Relatives: 

Lyric (biological cryo user niece, who’s also an autistic genius, used to be from Fontaine) 

Thelonious (adopted geo user son who was abandoned in Mondstadt) 

Mana (adopted electro user daughter who’s wild as heck and abandoned outside of Inazuma)

Ana (adopted hydro user daughter who was abandoned in Liyue. The youngest and most precious obviously-)

Unnamed twin sister (Mother of Lyric) (deceased)

Occupation: Entrepreneur, CEO of Liyue’s Casino Slumps (it’s hidden though but classy-), Businessman

Affiliation: Jin Chi Casino, The Fatui (in good terms)

Vision: Electro

Weapon: Catalyst

Constellation: Kong Que

Status in-game: Not playable

=============================================================

Personality: The old man himself is quite secretive of his own past, an enigmatic man from Fontaine who travelled to Liyue to reside there. Although he has successfully run a legal casino, much to some of the members of the Qixing’s disappointment, he has never done anything crude and unjust before... sort of. 

At least, nothing to do with money, he still plays fairly in the market. For years, people have respected and fear him, for his wealth, power and how intimidating he imposes to the public, a seemingly cynical businessman. 

On the contrary, Xing is actually a soft hearted person. Though he doesn’t show it to most people to keep up his public image, Xing cares for his children, biological or adopted, he sees them all as his family, sometimes though, he covers it up.

Despite his extreme wealth, Xing is surprisingly modest, and also a vegetarian. He seems to like the dish of Hand torn cabbage (Shou si yuan bai cai; a dish where you tear the cabbage and fry with some seasoning. I like it lolol-) in particular.

Xing is an intelligent old man, and recalls a lot of things and picks up on even the smallest details, showing that he’s very attentive. Straightforward and blunt, he’s very a very honest person and will not hesitate to say out loud what’s in his mind when he wants to. A little sarcastic though, especially with some of his humor, even dry humor-

Xing despite being a cold and harsh person at first sight, respects the traveler and trusts them. He also likes collecting things like gemstones and somehow envelope designs from around Teyvat. 

=============================================================

What other characters think of Xing

Zhongli: He has mix feelings towards him. While he does not like the fact he’s running a casino in Liyue, he respects his care towards the children he has adopted, and respects he still abide to the laws of Liyue. All in all, he’s okay with him.

Ningguang: Same reason with Zhongli, but she also likes the tea and conversations he makes. He has quite the humor.

Ganyu: A little skeptical towards him, but very much respects he has a heart for his children and that he hasn’t done something troubling with the Qixing, except maybe his casino, but nothing illegal.

Keqing: Pretty much hates him for running a casino. She is relieved that Xing has never carried out illegal business in Liyue, she feels he’s ruining the image and “creed” Liyue upholds.

Xiao: He doesn’t really care much, but he respects him for caring for his own children.

Yanfei: She finds his business skeptical, but still respects that he abides to the rules of Liyue, so he’s fine in Yanfei’s books.

Childe: He’s alright with him. He just thinks Xing’s a cool, hip old man. He’s good in his books, especially how he cares for his children. He respects that.

Scaramouche: The fatui respects him, and he shall too. He’s never really interacted with Xing too much, but he likes the conversations he brings up and respects his intelligence and straightforward attitude, though sometimes if it’s to insult him it’s irritating.

Signora: Respects Xing. His humor is quite funny, and he is very knowledgeable and straightforward with no funny business whatsoever. She respects that.

Lyric: His biological niece. While she doesn’t like him occasionally smoking sometimes, she is very fond of Uncle Xing, and know he’s a good person at heart.

Mana: She loves him as a father figure. She looks up to him, sometimes trying to learn how to be a catalyst herself, seen while combining her scythe polearm with catalyst based moved as inspiration from Xing. She thinks he’s awesome.

Thelonious: Nious, like Mana, also looks up to his uncle. While he doesn’t really like he’s running a casino, something Xing has been trying his best to hide, he thinks his uncle sharing his vast knowledge, and sharing stories of Teyvat is something he really enjoys.

Ana: Ana is the precious jewel of Xing, well, everyone is but Ana’s the youngest. She feels most safe with Xing, and he loves it when he shows her all the gemstones he collects and Xing telling stories to her and Nious.

=============================================================

**Even if he’s unplayable, you can use him temporarily during the events of any of his children’s Story Quests.

Normal Attack: Gold Lightning

Performs up to 6 Electro Attacks, dealing Electro DMG (Normal Attack)

Consumes a certain amount of stamina to deal Electro DMG after a short casting time (Charge Attack)

Gathering Electro energy, Xing uses electro powers to plunge towards the ground, decimating all enemies in his way. His attack can trigger other objects as well, such as rocks (geo) and water (hydro), dealing with AoE Electro DMG with either/both Geo DMG or/and Hydro DMG depending on the field. (Plunge Attack; Old man can’t plunge himself like he used to :,)) )

Elemental Skill: Feathers from the Storm

Creates a mist from three peacock feathers swirling around him from his command in an AoE, dealing with AoE Electro DMG. Every four seconds, within 20 seconds, 1) Deals with Electro DMG with opponents, 2) Regenerates HP of character within the field, 3) Dealt as a shield with DMG Absorption.

Press: Fires off 5 Feathers.

Hold: Fires off 10 feathers, plus the ones used for Regenerating, but shield remains, gaining a 75% DMG Absorption Bonus.

Elemental Burst: Bolt of the Peacock

Summons a peacock illusion made with Electro Energy, before it fires away its feathers turning into lightning bolts, launching surrounding opponents.

A big peacock feather would continue emitting lightning towards opponents with Electro DMG for so long as it persists.

[fanfiction-funtime]

Self insert oc: Alexander Vodka

AKA: Eis Cay'zar

Author of fate

A writer from Schneznaya who was driven from his home for his anti-Tsaritsa paper.

_____________________

Physical description:

A chubby fellow in a 1950's style noir trenchcoat and hat, some would even say he looks like he jumped right out of a noir comic book and into reality. He has brown hair and green eyes, a cowboy mustache, and a pointed beard like some kind of comic book supervillain genius.

He often acts confidently and even a bit egotistical when in places he's recognized and famous in, however in newer places he often seems distant and shys away from almost all contact.

Noone knows where his vision is, but they know he has one because of the cold aura that surrounds him.

At night he'll often trade his outfit for one more reminiscent of demons or vampires.

_____________________

Abilities:

Weapon type: Catalyst

Basic attack-truth: uses his catalyst to shoot a short burst of up to 3 ice shards, can attack in fast succession.

"Truth hurts, especially in bursts"

Charged attack-Bifrost: Alexander quickly makes an ice clone behind the enemy and fires 6 shots, this can increase to 3 clones if charged enough(times: 1 for 1 second, 2 for 2 seconds, and 3 for 2.5 seconds)

"I hate crowds, best company has always been myself"

Elemental ability-ice wall: creates an aura of sheer cold around himself that will damage enemies the more they stay in it, and apply the normal sheer cold to them. Does not affect party.

"My therapist said I put up walls because of trauma, but I couldn't hear them through the wall I had just built"

Elemental burst-a story to be told: Alexander takes out his book and opens to a random page, then randomly summons ice sculptures of one of 8 beings:

"Aster": this summon looks like the flatwoods monster, it surrounds the party in a swirl of ice blades that deal 2X damage as the character for 10 seconds.

"Who needs brawn, when you got brain"

"Ultimate foe": a demonic, pointy being of shadow. Will independently deal 25000 damage to three random foes.

"Meet my penultimate friend"

"Beethoven": a sculpture reminiscent of a ww1 zombie general, calls down a barrage of ice bombs that deal 5000 damage to enemies hit for 7 seconds.

"Good scifi doesn't predict, it prevents"

"Sorrows Joy": an angelic, faceless, robot like humanoid that spawns 25 angel shaped traps that freeze enemies around the character.

"With any luck, you're the only real one I've made"

"Death rider and the magic prince": two statues, one of a mummy like Schneznayan mystic of ancient barbarian times and the other an elven cavalry knight from the myths of mondstadt. The knight gives the party a 45% boost to speed and attack while moving, and the Schneznayan gives +10% damage bonus to elemental skills and +55% damage bonus to Catalyst.

"Feel the wrath of honor long passed"

"Zero point and Lion queen": a knightly man of spiked armor and a golden ottoman warrior woman whose golden chain completely obscures her head. Your enemies become inflicted with pyro and you are surrounded by thorn bushes that deal continuous damage of 1000 for 10 seconds.

"Walk down the way on a moonlit day"

The traveler: a child in a red straight jacket, his binds become undone after 4 seconds at which point all enemies take 10,000 X Alexander's level of damage.

"I uh,wont have to pay any copyrights will I?"

"Giota": a child in pyjamas who looks ready to sleep, this summon is very rare. It fully restores all party members and gives a 200% boost to both defense and damage of your characters.

"This fella's been with me since I was a kid"

"If it is a soldier's duty to escape the confines of a prison, is it not every person's duty to escape reality if even for a moment? A wise man said that, pray that I may one day be like him."

Passive-part the wasteland: Alexander is immune to sheer elements, and Grant's 50% resistance when in the party to all members.

_____________________

Story

Abandoning a dream

As a kid, Alexander was always put down when he said he wanted to write fiction, "there's no money in it" they all said.

He couldn't get into any art schools without support so he focused his mind elsewhere, a place he could hopefully use his writing to do just as much good: the first newspaper in Schneznaya.

Horrible truth

He didn't start as a trouble maker, but the more he sought out the truth the more he couldn't stand back and watch. He published numerous papers about the Tsarista's wrongdoings and the crimes of the fatui, how they would harass merchants in other nations, the unfair taxes many shipping businesses had to keep quiet about, all the way up to the war crimes the Tsarista had done in direct contradiction to her own laws.

Sadly, not many believed him even with evidence, but some got his message.

Those who fight

One day Alexander was approached by a man who claimed to have formed a resistance against the fatui. Alexander had inspired many people to disrupt the organization, and have even begun working with those outside Schneznaya.

With their help he didn't just publish some crimes, he published them all, he even got information that turned the general public against the fatui even if just a little.

In a way h had achieved his dream of helping others with his writing, even if it wasn't how he wanted.

Stop the presses

When the Tsarista started her big move of taking gnosis, she brought the hammer down on dissent like a boulder on a ten year old's wrist. One day a squad of thirty fatui stormed Alexander's home and business to silence him, and while they shut down his business they couldn't catch him.

Alexander fled into the wastelands of ice and snow and wasn't seen for several weeks.

Deus ex Vodka

One day Alexander showed up in Inazuma, a nation that had been oppressed for some time now and had recently reached it's height, yet no resistance had formed.

That was until Alexander came along.

Alexander published numerous books, spreading them throughout Inazuma. All of them spoke of freedom, of bravery, of rising up to achieve your ambitions.

And with those stories he inspired countless to take up arms, and in turn inspired countless to join the resistance.

And with mere fiction he had brought about hope,

And with mere fiction he shall do it again, in every form, and in every nation.

Vision: cold hearted

While wondering the waste Alexander fell down and looked to the skies.

He did not ask celestia why, he did not grieve or blame that he did not do more, instead Alexander did something he hadn't done in a long time:

He imagined.

And after he imagined he took out his notebook and wrote. In the freezing cold for seventeen days he wrote stories of hope and freedom.

For seventeen days the cold did not so much as cause him to flinch as he wrote tales of bravery.

For seventeen days Alexander Vodka lived how he wanted to live.

And at the end, he lied down to die.

Then a light shown, and when he opened his eyes to look he saw that the storm parted around him, and in his hand was an ice blue gem.

But Alexander was too paranoid from years of abuse from his peers as a child to wear it loosely, and far to extra to just get a lock. So instead Alexander shouted to celestia "if I shall have this Vision for my art, then it shall not kill me no matter what I do!"

He then shoved the vision into his heart and fell down.

Before he could bleed out however, a woman appeared.

"Hey Tsari, how ya doin." Alexander said as blood poured out his mouth.

"You dramatic fool," the Tsarista sighed as she put a hand on his chest, "you have my element, do you know how bad it'll look for me if you die by shoving your vision into your heart?"

"Why do you care? We hate eachother, in case you forgot."

The archon sighed, "you're just rebelling against what you see as unjust, just as I am. To be honest I feel a sort of rivalry with you, so it'd be a shame if you just died. Also," she painfully shoved the vision all the way in, painfully, "if your going to die it better be because of me, got it?"

Then Alexander sat up, and the god was gone. Along with the hole in his chest.

"Rival of a god eh?" He sat up, putting his gat back on his head, "I like the sound of that."

_____________________

How is this an insert?

Well his story can't be the exact same as mine, so I took my life and goals and made predictions, then fictionalized those predictions and expanded.

His appearance is pretty close to how I'll likely look based on my current appearance, and his dramatic attitude is exactly how I wanna act.

Him being shy in new places with strangers is me exactly as I am now really, however I do believe I'd act confidently if I were famous so he does as well.

Him being Catalyst is because I'm not athletic at all, and I figured a dps Catalyst would be cool. His main ability and resistance/immunity to sheer cold is based on how I wrap up in warm blankets when it's cold, and his ultimate is made up of characters I've made.

_____________________

Tagging: @genshin-obsessed, @golden-wingseos, @storytravelled, and @love-psxlm

[insilenceandbloodysong]

In silence | A Texas Chainsaw Massacre | Thomas Hewitt x FemSiren!OC | Enemies to Friends to Lovers | Chapter 6: Calm

~~

Dinner was quieter that night than it had ever been before. Normally, Hoyt was loud. Talking, cackling, or leering over whatever poor woman he'd decided to spare and abuse. Oh, but not tonight. For the first time in recent memory, Tommy's brother had been cowed into an uncomfortable silence. He was staring at the plate, an ice pack to his head, not saying a word. It was blissful.

"Tommy," Momma Mae looked up from her empty plate and fixed him with one of her stares. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "How long has that... girl... been livin' in our pond?"

He shrugged.

"Tommy..."

"Not a gator." He grunted again, ignoring the pain that always came with opening his mouth.

"Since the storm then. That was almost two weeks ago. And did you know that she... wasn't like us?"

He knew she was talking about the tail. He nodded, resisting the urge to touch the arm she'd bitten. Hell, his chest felt like it was on fire ever since their spat earlier. Definitely had broken a rib or two.

"Can I assume she was the one who been sneaking around and takin food from the fridge?"

Another nod and Luda Mae sighed, "Then it wasn't Hoyt sneaking food then."

"I fuckin' told you, Momma."

"You hush, boy. After what she did to you today, you ain't got room to be bitchin'."

That shut Hoyt up. Sure that he wasn't going to interrupt her again, Luda Mae began to clean up, "I think we should set some ground rules then. First, ain't no one gonna go out and bother that... woman. She's taken up residence in that pond, and as far as I'm aware she wasn't botherin' no one except for taking some food."

"What, so we gon' let some cunt outsider trespass on our land?" Hoyt snapped, "She ain't even a part of this family!"

"You want her gone then you go out and drag her out yourself!" Snapped Luda Mae, "I'll just watch from the window this time instead of dragging your sorry hide inside when she tosses you around like a toy!"

"I'll just get Tommy-"

"Tommy isn't gonna be doin' a goddamn thing!" Momma Mae was seething now. Tommy wanted to shrink down into his chair, "Lookin' at the way he's walkin' and the bandage on his arm it already looks like she got him good. Don't look at me like that Thomas Hewitt, I saw you tryin' to hide it from me."

Luda Mae gathered the last of the dishes and looked over the table, "Now we gon' treat that woman like any other gator. She's ornery, mean, and ain't afraid to defend herself if you push her. We don't bother her and she ain't gon' bother us. Do I make myself clear?"

The silence extended across the table, "I said, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hoyt muttered, earning a snicker from Monty. Tommy nodded his head, hands folded in his lap. Sure that she had the obedience of the Hewitt clan Momma Mae disappeared into the kitchen with the dishes.

Another uncomfortable silence filled the space of her departure. Unwilling to sit and be useless, Tommy quietly excused himself to disappear into the basement. The smell of blood was stale in the air, just fainter than the smell of death. Pools of crimson mixed with the water that usually settled on the floor.

He considered the mess a moment or two before finding the hose he kept nearby. Sprays of water cleared the worst of the blood and he watched it swirl down the drain. As he worked he pondered.

He didn't like the idea of the woman being in the pond any more than Hoyt did. He'd never admit it out loud, but his brother was right. She wasn't family. She was an intruder and a mean one at that.

But Momma Mae had put her foot down, and as tiny as she was she had a way of wrangling them all into line. Tommy never liked the idea of incurring Momma's wrath anyway. So as much as he didn't like it the strange woman had just become their new neighbor.

~~

There was naught but blissful silence for the next several days. No one had come from the nest to bother her despite her initial misgivings. And the only time she ever really saw the humans were when they went about their daily lives. She could not stop herself from curiously watching once she was sure she'd be left alone.

She saw more and more of the older male than before. For the most part, she caught him staring out from his nest towards her pond, chewing on something in his mouth. She wondered if he was planning to get revenge on her. She almost looked forward to the idea. If he didn't learn his lesson the first time she'd certainly teach him again and again as needed.

But he never approached, so she patiently bide her time.

The other human she saw was the matriarch. She spent most of the time with menial chores around the nest. Cleaning and the like, and hanging their strange fabrics out to dry. She liked watching the matriarch work, because out of the pack she at least had done nothing to antagonize her.

Though, there were times she caught the gaze of the matriarch. Her gaze gave away nothing of what she could have possibly been thinking, no fear nor disgust. A cool look as if she was simply taking her in. She tolerated these looks before disappearing under the water.

Then, of course, there was the big human. He kept to himself mostly now that neither one of them was trying to kill each other. From one end of the property to another he was on some quest for the matriarch. Cleaning, repairing or making himself useful.

And not once did he cast a glance her way.

Finally...

Some peace and quiet.

~~

Support me on Kofi!

[noire-pandora]

I got tagged by @kunstpause @roguelioness @wizardofozymandias @juliafied   @laurelsofhighever     @enigmalea @in-arlathan @nug-juggler thank you for the tag!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

1.Stay 

The soft sound of charcoal scraping on the paper lulled Solas into a deep state of concentration, the monotonous music of the movement relaxing him as his mind diligently absorbed the knowledge hidden in the pages of Lady Gihni's book.

2. Midnight Rendezvous

Before joining the Inquisition, midnight rarely found Solas wide awake, staring at the ceiling of his room, thoughts racing through his mind and refusing to bend down to his will.

3.Blush

Heavy, dark clouds gathered above Val Royeaux, threatening to release the cold rain over the streets, to flood every nook and cranny.

4. Candle Light

At night, silence fell over Skyhold, the darkness’ arrival encouraging its residents to retreat in their private, warm quarters for a well-deserved sleep.

5 .You drive me crazy

A pungent smell of healing potions and bitter tinctures shrouded the barely lit room

6. A tender caress.

The sky above her head stretched in a line of pale blue, a few fluffy clouds drifting aimlessly on its surface.

7. Wildflowers

Elluin shivered, goosebumps blooming on her skin as the chilly air of the morning found a way to sneak under her leather armour and kissed her skin

8.The art of courting (this is my favourite thing I wrote.)

The milky mist rose from the damp, mossy ground in swirls.

9.The colours of the sky (first time i wrote about an OC that isn’t mine and first time I gifted a fic.)

Lora Lavellan frowned from her place on the couch as muffled shouts reverberated from the hallway and interrupted her reading.

10.Elegant

Lady Sennova's Inn's halls, the most expensive inn in Val Royeaux, were almost empty as every patron departed towards Halamshiral to join the Queen's masquerade.

11.A haven in the storm (I really like this one too)

The wind shrieked its mighty cry in the darkness of the night as it spread the snow and threatened to seize any creature unlucky enough to be outside.

12. The soulmate's kiss

The stars shone brightly above Skyhold; the battlements were quiet, no soldiers in sight.

13.Beloved (first colab with an artist. They drew an amazing piece for this)

As night fell over Skyhold and people retreated to their quarters, the Inquisitor could finally enjoy a few hours of respite.

14.A gentle touch of love

Elluin bled intensity, back resting against some rocks.

15.Kiss the Apostate! (an awesome artist gifted me a drawing after this fic and I’m still amazed they did!)

Darkness hovered over Skyhold.

16. The tavern of redemption (my first fic ever, yay!)

The rain poured down, with no signs of stopping.

17. I also have the entire StoriesofThedas collection (15 short stories) but I’m going to just post a line from the last update, Date 

Elluin idly basked in the sun, the rays kissing the rash of freckles covering her cheeks, her tired muscles relaxing under the welcoming warmth.

Tagging:

@elveny @another-rogue-trevelyan @dalish-rogue @wardenari  @a-shakespearean-in-paris @hollyand-writes @kemvee @midnightprelude @queen-kass-the-writer  @oxygenforthewicked  @dreadfutures @musetta3 @johaeryslavellan @fandomn00blr  @blarrghe @solas-disapproves @dragonswithjetpacks @jentrevellan

@hezjena2023 @pinkfadespirit @pedlimwen

[echo-three-one]

A Forgotten Memory

An Alex x OC fic

This is Chapter 6 (is everyone still counting)

Link to the beginning here

Prev (V - Alex)

Next (VII - Alex)

Reviews and comments appreciated as I would like to grow as a writer

Content Warning ⚠️ below chapter title as to avoid spoilers (if anybody cares about being spoiled)

VI - Samantha

CONTENT WARNING : Kidnapping, Mind Control and Being bound and gagged.

Her back leaned against the cold stone wall sending a jolt of shivers across her body. She wriggled around, trying to move but despite not being bound ang gagged, she couldn't talk.

She found herself in an empty room, an interrogation table with a swinging lightbulb at the center ominously matching its swing with the thunping of her heart. No one was pushing it but instead of swinging slowly like it should be, it went faster and faster along with her heart.

She blinked. Maxine sat across the chair behind the interrogation table. Eyes and mouth covered, her expression almost lifeless. She tried to call out her name but no voice came out. She blinked again. Two shady men with heavy thumping boots marched toward her. Their steps matching along with the heartbeat and the swing of the lightbulb.

She closed her eyes permanently praying this will all be over soon. Afraid that when she opened her eyes another set of horrors would appear.

"You're safe here." a faint male voice echoed against the room, lighting up the whole area. She peeked slowly as the room was now well lit, she saw the abductors run away from the light, bringing Maxine with them. She tried to scream out her name one last time but she was slowly being guided by what seemed to be polica authorities back to safety.

"We'll get her back soon. Don't worry." She remembered Alex telling her that before she slept. She couldn't trust a normal person to say that to her so she starts to doubt the credibility of this man.

~

Samantha took a deep breath as she slowly came back to her senses. It smelled quite odd which made her whiff again. It's way too far from Maxine's shampoo or cologne, it almost smelled...

Manly.

That's when she remembered. Her eyes quickly opened to the view of a bare chest followed by a very well carved set of abs and her thighs just below it. Her heart raced once again as she slowly tilted her head up to look at the man whom she was leaning to.

It was Alex. He looked peacefully asleep, his arms bent behind his bed showing off the colored tattoes covering his biceps. A soft snore escapes his mouth as her head starts to feel the rising and falling of his chest.

She can't believe the circumstances she found herself in, shaking her head in disagreement, slowly moving away from him in an attempt to not wake him up. 'Really Samantha. You didn't even let him wear anything?!' she said to herself in shame as she slowly steps out of his apartment. Mentally apologizing for stealing his shirt and sweatpants.

She couldn't handle it anymore. She has to find Maxine. She quietly closed his door and descended to the streets of her city, making her way back to her apartment. Her thoughts were clouded with circumstances surrounding her dream, Maxine, the abductors, the voice that lit the whole room. She convinced herself it wasn't Alex, it could probably be someone else... someone she's been trying to forget but she can't. But then again, those words would fit Alex at all. Maybe because he was beside her whole night. Maybe she heard him from way outside her dream.

Her cheeks suddenly turned red as she once again remembered how she clung on to Alex. If she did that for the whole evening, then she possibly couldn't see him ever again. It was too embarrassing for her to cross paths with him again. She knew full well that what they had going on was not gonna be what she wants to happen. She could feel him having no actual interest in her, he was just being friendly because she believes he's trying to pry information from her. She's convinced that Alex is somehow involved in Maxine's loss.

Shaking her head and clearing her mind from all thoughts regarding that man she won't name anymore, she slowly ascended the wooden steps of her apartment, hoping for Maxine's safety.

She swung the door open, peeking at their room seeing Maxine plopped on the sofa.

"Maxine!" she shrieked in excitement as she grabbed her and hugged her tight.

"Hey Sam, why the tight hug?" She asked, patting her back and escaping from her warm embrace. Tears fell from Samantha's eyes as Maxine pushes her and tried to ask her about her weird behavior.

"What's wrong with you? I just went out last night. Oh and by the way I met a pecuiliar guy at the bar last night. He says he knows you.

Samantha's head pinged and she looked at her with raised eyebrows. Could it be...

"Does he go by Alex? You know, brown hair, blue eyes and a whole lotta tattoos on his arms?" Maxine's eyes widened at the accuracy of Samantha's description.

"So you met? Since when? I was still about to set you up today!" She got up, looking shocked.

"That was last Friday night! You went missing just last night!" Samantha corrected.

"I swear I'm right. That's what my mind could recall." Maxine trailed off to the kitchen as they make breakfast.

Samantha wanted to go back to Alex. She had a feeling he would know what to do. But because of last nights embarrassing act of stupidity, she'd best be letting this mishap slide.

~

Samantha noted that at certain times of day, Maxine would just stare out the window, and everytime she calls her out, Maxine wouldn't respond. As if she couldn't hear her even at close proximity. At this point, she began to extremely worry and texted Alex about her friend's situation not minding meeting him again. She thought that she shouldn't let personal things interfere at this kind of danger.

But she was all too late. She didn't expect that she was dazed for a reason. She wished she never left Alex's apartment. She wished she kept on hugging him for just a little more while.

Her eyes were open but she couldn't see a thing, her mouth was open but she couldn't say a word. She was bound and gagged, but this time it's for real. She didn't show any sign of struggle as the foreign people pushed her, babbling using their language it almost felt they were bickering.

And then she found herself in a laboratory of some sort, wincing as the harsh lamp light flashed across her. An old man donning a lab coat covered the light.

"We finally got you, Samantha Coleman. Smile at the camera so I can send this to your father dearest." The old man spoke, each word irritated her. A tear fell from her eyes as she remembered how her father tried to promise her that his work wouldn't interfere her. She knew it isn't his fault entirely but somehow fate tangled her up to thid point. She isn't gonna survive this.

"I want something that you have. You may not know it, but I know you saw it." He cackled injecting her with some sort of anaesthetic. She knows this because as soon as 30 seconds she already felt sleepy and her mind began to black out.

***

Samantha found herself by the pier, just beside Charlie, her boyfriend's families' yacht. They're out for their annual family summer outing and she can't join as she has to look after her mother who's at the hospital.

"Babe, I'll send you pictures once I get a signal. I promise. I'll also pray for your mom while we're there..." Connor smiled at her, the strong seaside gust blew his collar, as she held her sun hat tight.

"Thanks honey, you take care there, okay?" Samantha's words started to echo in the background as the horizon quickly shifted from day to night.

Maxine sat beside her as uncontrollable tears flowed out of her eyes. It has been a full day since she last heard from Connor and word was his whole family hasn't returned yet.

"Do we need these?" a muffled voice was echoing from the sky. Samantha just sat there, unbothered by the strange noises in the sky, her tears start to fall on her real body.

"It's still a failed project. It's supposed to look for memories but this is the one she's recalling."

"So how do we know if she'll show us her memories of the code?!" a loud slam translated as thunder in her dream.

"I don't know Boss Nero, maybe we could influence her to think of the code."

"Listen, Princess. Think of your childhood memories. Think of what you saw when you accidentally looked on your Daddy's drawer."

Samantha winced as her memory swirled back to her childhood. She heard excited laughter from the sky as she found herself in her room, as a kid. The radio from her dream immediately interrupted her as news flash about a missing yacht, cruise ship and cargo ships that sailed on that fateful day when Connor had his family vacation. Hundreds of people were either dead or missing and the main cause that was officially declared was a storm and big waves. Many speculate about possible pirate invasions but their wreckage wasn't found.

She found herself back at the pier. The sky started yelling curse words angrily toward her. Then another loud sound manifested as thunder.

"Boss Nero, we're being compromised! Multiple armed forces are out for us.

"Gah! Of course they're catching up to us! Quick evacuate and do not engage whenever possible. Let's save our numbers for later."

"What about her?"

"She's still induced. She's just going to be a pain to carry. Leave her be. If they successfully retrieve her they won't be after us." Nero commanded as they left the scene.

Samantha on the other hand, was trapped in her own personal memory realm, flashing about the moments where she felt utter sadness when she found out that her boyfriend was gone forever.

[moos-cow]

TWST OC WEEK Day 6: Farewell

OC: Dorothy Linwalt

The NRC Graduation was as special, if not even more special than the opening ceremonies. Aside from the students, family and special guests were invited to witness the closing of the students' NRC life.

The formal rites were held in the same room where the students had their opening ceremonies. The candidates donned their finest ceremonial robes, while the undergrads who volunteered to be ushers and usherettes watched from the sides as their seniors went up on stage. The dorm leaders, regardless of year, were required to attend to recognize their outstanding members.

Formal and peaceful is what it usually was. Following the ceremonies, there was a special banquet prepared for everyone at the dining hall.

Lively chatter filled the hall. Parents, professors, and guardians chatted with one another as the students met up with their friends once again after being away for months due to their internship. Although they did come back for the cultural festival held every February, most of them still used this time to finish their research and papers.

"Have you told them yet, little one? We will be leaving tonight." Lilia reminded the young Linwalt who was then caught up in watching her parents chat away with the Schoenheits. Business as usual I guess.

She shook her head to the fae; she was waiting for the right time to tell them, but she didn't really know when the right time was, or even how to tell them.

"Ah, Dorothy! Look how much you've grown!" a jolly lady called out from her side, one she fondly remembered as one of the elders who took great care of her too. "Congratulations! My, my! Cater never mentioned anything about what an achiever you are!"

"Mrs Diamond! It's been too long! Congratulations as well!" she beamed the mother a smile and pressed her cheeks against hers in a friendly, familial kiss.

"Time flies by fast, don't you think? Ah, one day you and little Cay were just playing out in the garden, then the next thing we knew, you're both going your own ways!"

Dorothy nodded to Mrs Diamond’s musings; she'd been watching her son take numerous photos and groupies with every group he could get his hands on.

"Do you have any plans yet? Cay mentioned that he'd be taking some months off first."

"I haven't really given it much thought..." she cooed, even if she knew exactly where she had to go after graduation. Explaining things to her would be too troublesome for both parties anyway.

"Acceptable. This is a drastic shift for you all anyway. But, I know you'll be able to find it soon. As your father says, there's nothing-"

"There's nothing a Linwalt can't do, yes." Dorothy chuckled, finishing Mrs Diamond's statement with her. She bid her farewells as soon as she saw her parents part from the Schoenheits.

Her father approached her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, kissed her forehead and tugged her hood lower on her face. "Ah well isn't it our little butterscotch! Congratulations again, my dear." Before she could even muster a reply, her mother chimed in to call them both. The lady had the headmaster in tow.

There she was, the overly enthusiastic mother who had the chance to speak with the famed school's headmaster. To be honest, this would be pretty new to them, given that both Mr and Mrs Linwalt graduated from RSA.

The headmaster sounded a bit panicked from his usual, but he's still as gracious as he boasts. He congratulated them, and even boasted about the young Linwalt's exemplary performances. Thankfully, he never mentioned the terrible incidents she got caught up in during her stay— overblots and all. He did understand the outlook of RSA graduates towards these issues.

"Ah, Ms Linwalt, I've heard from Mr Vanrogue that you'll be working with the Draconias from--" She made a sudden face at the headmaster, pleading for him to shut up; but his words left his lips sooner than she had hoped.

Both her parents gave her questioning looks.

"I'm sorry, she'll be what now?" Mrs Linwalt called out to the headmaster, fingers splayed above her chest in sudden shock.

Dorothy let out a heavy, heavy sigh. She excused the headmaster, and he left with a curt bow to the family, along with the big oops painted across his masked face.

"I'll be working at the Valley of Thorns. That's what the headmaster meant." she briefly stated as a matter of factly to her parents.

Her father frowned, "What do you mean you'll work there? I thought we talked this over? The printing press, remember? Isn't that why you had your internship-"

"I had my internship back home so I could spend more time with you." her voice slightly raised above the idle murmur of the crowd, but she quickly softened it to a respectful tone, "But eventually I still need to leave for the Valley of Thorns."

"Need? What do you think you are? Someone they can just order around?" her mother's voice began to raise, both in tone and in volume— a sign that she was getting mad.

Some heads began to turn their way, but she just decided to turn the other way to avoid suspicion. She opened and then closed her mouth, eyes darting around with hopes that she'd find the proper words on the faces of people. "I... No, but..."

"Mr Linwalt and Mrs Linwalt, I assume. A pleasant afternoon to you both, some refreshments for the lovely family?" a familiar sing-song voice called out from over her shoulder. Azul had been managing the banquet just until then when he eyed someone getting into trouble with her parents, and with the slight raise in her mother's voice, he had to chime in to keep the mood light.

They both got the ombre blue shimmering drinks, a sip from both and some silence later, their heads started to cool down.

"Mom, Dad... You see, it's not a job I applied for, but it is one that falls burden to my family. As the only child, it is one I am obliged to take." she slowly spoke, swirling the watered down drink in her hand. "I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner, but-"

"Your family? But aren't we your family? Isn't it just right that you stay here, with us? Howard, please." her mother tried to call her out again, even with the brash attempt to ask for her husband's support.

But it was like a pin had popped her patience balloon all over again. "Sevens! Have you already forgotten what I am? What you did to me?" pinching her nose bridge with her index and thumb, she stilled, and tried to compose herself again before further reasoning out. "Yes, you are my family. But I... I'm a fae, mother, and as much as I would want to, I can't stay and leave my responsibilities behind. Apparently, a path has been set there for me even before I was born. It just so happened that I was taken away before I knew it."

Her mother brought her hand to her lips and just walked away. Shocked was the least of her reactions. Of course she'll lose it. One of her prized exotics will be leaving her lot, Dorothy thought. But her father stayed, disappointment painted across his face but still willing to listen and understand.

"Forgive her. She's... Just in shock." Dorothy nodded in silence, tears pricking her eyes. She wasn't expecting things to turn out as bad as they did. "When will you need to leave then?"

"Tonight."

Her father pulled her into a tight hug, one she really needed right then. Honestly, it broke her heart to leave them like that. There was still so much to say, but so little time; but she was left with no choice.

She cried in his arms, apologizing vaguely as her dark makeup stained his crisp shirt and coat.

He rubbed comfortable circles across her back, "Shhh, we'll see each other again soon, right? No need for tears, butterscotch." She nodded, even though she didn't know when ‘soon’ will be.

When her cries calmed down, he took his hanky and wiped off the stray tears and smudged make up off her face. "You'll do great, dear. I just know it. You know why?" He cupped her face with both his hands and placed a light kiss on her head, "— Because there's nothing a Linwalt can't do."

This cliche statement he always bragged about finally made her smile, even for just a bit. "I'll miss you so so much, dad."

From the end of the room, she could see the Diasomnia seniors exiting the hall already, save for Malleus, Nadia, and Lilia waiting for her by the threshold.

Before she left, she looked for her mother. Though she looked everywhere her tired eyes could reach, she couldn't find her in the hall. Luckily, she found Azul refilling the glasses by the banquet table.

Eyes swollen and make up ruined, Azul almost threw hands at the first sight of her, "Oya, my dear, what happened to you?!"

She brushed a stray tear from her cheek and just shook her head to the junior, "Have you seen my mother? Slightly taller than me, of medium built, she's wearing a red-"

"Calm down, I know what she looks like. Hm, I saw her leave the hall earlier, perhaps she's out at the main road. All the other passageways around campus are closed."

With a quick hold to his hand in thanks, she stormed off to the college's main road, Zooming past Malleus, Nadia, and Lilia on the way out, "I'll be right back!"

Azul was right. She was there, standing in front of the statue of the Witch of Thorns, casually wiping her nose with every sniffle. "Mom?" she softly called out, slightly panting from running down and out of the building.

The sun almost set over the horizon. Ruby and amber painted the stone pathways of her, then, alma mater

"You know, I never really wanted you to study here. Your father and I were overjoyed when we received your acceptance letter and invitation from RSA..." Her mother spoke, still facing the statue, as if the elegant witch were actually listening to every word she said. "But it looks like fate has its own mysterious way of being known."

Dorothy sauntered over to her mother, hesitantly touched her hand and held it firmly.

"Mom," Dorothy softly called out with a little tug on the hand she held. When her mother finally turned to face her, she held out her free hand open, palm up, allowing some magic to flow— white mist crystalizing at the center of her palm, creating an intricate snowflake pendant necklace. Her mother watched in awe, seeing her daughter cast such magic with ease.

"For you, so that I'll always be with you wherever I go." Dorothy held out the necklace to her mother, a little smile gracing her soft features. Her mother took the necklace and studied the magical piece of work closely with her bare eyes.

"I really can't convince you to stay?"

"I'm afraid not, mother."

"Stay for dinner, then."

Dorothy shook her head at her mother's final attempt and request, "We'll be leaving tonight."

The older Linwalt turned her head to stare back at the statue of the Witch of Thorns, leaving her daughter's hand empty and cold once again. "Faes— wouldn't you agree that they're fascinating creatures?"

"As are humans, mother."

A short pause came from her mother before she finally spoke up again, letting out a sigh in her wake, "Is it too late for you to accept my sincerest of apologies? For everything?"

She fondled with the hems of her robe; uneasiness building up in her at the fear of being too direct with her mother. "I... I don't know. That...thing, it took so, so much away from me. But, in turn, it has gifted me some things that can't ever be replaced."

The faint sounds of chatter echoed from within the building, guests and students began to take their leave. Dorothy's phone chimed as well— a text perhaps, they might be looking for her.

"I understand," her mother sheepishly nodded. She'd always been a proud, eccentric woman; much like a certain hunter from Pomefiore, she found beauty in some of the oddest things.

"I just have one request..." her mother turned to face her, tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she cupped the precious necklace in both hands, "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

She was relieved to finally have a blessing of sorts and threw herself, hugging her mother tightly out of the blue as if they were to never see and touch one another again. "I won't, mom. Never in a million years. I swear to the Seven."

A quick ring came from her phone, but before she could answer it, a young man clad in black and green called out from behind both the mother and daughter, causing them to break their little moment to turn towards him. "Doty senp- ah-"

"Silver,"

Quick to realize the moment he broke, the junior slightly bowed to both mother and daughter, "My apologies, Mrs Linwalt, senpai, but, the old- uh, Lilia sent me to escort you back to the dorm."

Her mother gave her a little nudge towards the student. Dorothy looked at her, only to see a little smile grace her thin wine stained lips. "Go on butterscotch. We'll see you soon."

She mouthed bye to her mother before sauntering off to Silver's side. Silver knew of his senior's predicament, so he gave her space, allowing their walk back to be quiet, save for the videos from Cater's messages she was watching on her phone.

‘Hi hi, Dots! It's your favorite among your favorite Diamonds, Cay-kun~! …’

‘Enough of that Cay! Doty!!!! Our baby Cay mentioned that you won't be coming back anytime soon! We'll miss doting on our adopted little sister…’

‘Fufufu. Well, I'm glad you got to figure things out already, dear. I'm sure your parents are very proud of you already…’

They arrived at the front doors of Diasomnia with one of the sophomores waiting just outside for their arrival. The students gathered at the main room, eagerly listening to the speech of their new dorm leader. Formal, as usual. Uptight, and not an ounce of humor to his words.

She stood beside Lilia at the side of the room with the other seniors. The veteran fae looked at her with his face closing in on purpose to get her to look at him; and she did. "How was the talk, child?"

"Okay, I guess." she answered curtly, not willing to expound any further on the topic. Silver shook his head to Lilia in earnest, prompting him to not press any further questions; he did know how curious his old man could get.

A short pause from both, then she tapped Lilia's shoulder before turning away, "I should go and pack up."

Bags packed and room kept, just like when she first arrived at the dorm. A short knock to the door broke her from her musings on the many memories from her stay at the college. "Come in!"

She was expecting one of her assigned guards to be the one to call her down, but the too low tone told her otherwise. "Are you ready, dearest?"

She nodded, turning to the fae at the threshold of her room. Then, with a short wave of her hand, her bags gently lifted off from the bed and easily hovered over to her side.

"Wait," Malleus abruptly called before both of them were surrounded with the swirling lights of green fireflies. In a moment's time, their robes changed to black and gold embellished clothes. Sleek, elegant, and regal.

She cocked her head slightly to the side in obvious question, earning her a brief explanation from the man pouting before her, "It is... tradition."

"It's a nice touch." she chuckled as she fixed the little golden tie accessory he wore.

His lips curved up to a smile the moment hers did. Truly, she emanated the strength of her mother and the optimism of her father— both, human and fae alike.

Malleus extended his hand to her, one she'd be willing to take again and again, no matter what the circumstances were. "Shall we?"

As expected, she took it without a sliver of regret, "Let's go home."

[gypsydanger01]

THE STORM - Part four

Fandom: The Boys (Amazon prime tv series)

Pairing: Black Noir x Reader

A/N: Hey guys, so this is part four! I’ve planned the whole series out, and it’ll be around twenty to twenty five parts long! It’ll be quite the ride!

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Boys, only my OC characters and certain pieces of au plot.

Comments, reviews, constructive criticism, and other requests are always more than welcome!

                 Posting new chapters every Wednesday and Friday!

            Dangerous games

The frazzled woman swung her cupboard open and reached for the wine glasses she had neatly tucked away for good occasions. Now, this was no celebration, but she was in desperate need of a glass of wine. Anything to calm her nerves, really.

She looked over at the big shadow in her living room. He stood straight as a rod, and she wondered what it would take for that composure to crack and show the nightmare beneath. His eyes traced the photos hanging across the wall. Most were taken while traveling, small memories and pieces of her framed and cherished. They always reminded her of the cities and rolling landscapes she’d seen. All the places she’d been, and what she’d learned from each one.

She cleared her throat. “You can sit,” she motioned towards the couch. He looked towards her, always contemplating her words before finally sitting down on the dark blue cushioning. 

She moved over and sat on the plush chair a few feet away from him. The young woman thought it was an adequate distance, one that was cautious and would allow her a few seconds to get up and out of the room. It was still hard for her to wrap her head around it: Black Noir was in her house.

He watched her cross one leg over the other and pour the wine.

He wouldn’t take his glass, and she raised one eyebrow.

“Do you not like wine?”

He nodded his head. When she looked over at him, she could feel him peer into her soul, a gaze intense and maybe insane. Like a black skull charred by an explosion, his head piece was frightening and intriguing at the same time. She wondered about the man beneath and how many different methods he could use to finish her.

“This won’t do, give me a second,” she told him as she slipped out of her chair. She tried to ignore the shivers running down her spine as she turned her back to him and briefly left the room. She returned with a small black notebook and a pen.

“There. Do you want me to get you anything else?”

He simply watched her, sitting stiff on the couch, his big hands resting on his thighs. Finally, he moved his gaze to the notebook she’d left on the coffee table in front of him. She reminded him of a scared rabbit, her heart thumping fast, her eye watchful of his every move. And yet, she wasn’t succumbing to her fear. If he were a regular person, he wouldn’t notice her state of alert, or the uneasy look in her eyes. His thoughts went back to the small dagger she had pulled from her dress. Who needed to be so prepared for danger they’d hide a knife in their evening dress? Was she in trouble? Was someone hurting her? That couldn’t be the case with him watching over her nearly every minute of every day.

He chose to answer concisely. Mask

Her eyes skimmed the page, and she nodded, her cheeks turning a slight shade of crimson. Still, it would have been lost on a regular person. She would seem perfectly composed and at ease in front of anyone but him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that through,” she explained

He nodded.

Cautious, she questioned, “Do you ever take it off in public?”

He tilted his head at her. Did she want him to? No

“Only at your place in the Tower?”

Yes

“That must be lonely,” she drew out. The woman focused on the liquid in her glass, letting it swirl from side to side. She lifted her eyes only when she heard a slight scribble on paper. 

Yes

He sat back and stared at the paper lying in front of him, the heavy confession he’d left on its surface.

She looked at him in a slightly new light. Even though she stayed alert, she was beginning to paint a new picture of the dark form in her living room. Under all the black clothing, armor and tactical gear, he’s still a man, isn’t he? Was he here out of loneliness? Was he seeking companionship? If he trusted her, her job would become much easier.

She sighed, and the small action had him lift his eyes to hers, trying to discern her feelings towards him. He could sit still anywhere for hours; he’d had plenty of practice. But under her gaze, he felt restless, he felt out in the open. He had learned to thrive in the shadows, in hiding, and now he was exposed.

“You’ve been following me and leaving me these gifts, yes?” she questioned off.

He simply nodded.

She took a sip of her drink and placed it on the coffee table. Folding her arms over her chest she leaned back into the chair.

“Why?”

Black Noir sat still, calculating. How could he have her understand? The attachment he’d developed towards her wasn’t easy to grasp or communicate. And he wouldn’t speak. Her body language superficially communicated ease, but he knew better. He could almost see the thoughts run through her head. She’d leaned back into the couch on purpose. It was a strategy that let him think she’d let her guard down. Now, he wasn’t sure if she was just trying to derail him and keep up a façade of strength, or if it was meant to get him to open up to her. Either way, he didn’t question it.

Slowly, he wrote it out as simply as he could. You are like life, and under it, Light

She let her eyes skim the words multiple times before looking up. Oh, how wrong he was. She was a bomb waiting to explode, destruction looming on the horizon. She was not life, but more akin to death.

He waited for it to sink in. He wanted to just say it all, explain it away. But he waited, locked in his cage of silence.

The young woman was beyond bewildered. Did he actually like her? Why would he go through all of this, when he could easily torture the information out of her? It sounded childish to think, even more to voice out loud, but maybe he really was a secret admirer.

She went straight to the point. “So, you know everything about me?”

He tilted his head to the side, a gesture she was quickly becoming accustomed to.

Almost

She buried her face in her hands and rubbed her temples. She glanced up when she caught him adding a few words. 

I want to know you

They were five simple words, and yet she felt they were charged with something more, a deeper meaning. She found herself thinking of all the ways he could kill her less and less.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as she processed it all.

Finally, she spoke. “Okay... okay, okay.”

She ran her fingers through her curls. What the fuck is going on, she thought over and over.

“All right, that’s fine, we can get to know each other,” she spoke tentatively. "Just give me some time to process this."

He gazed at her, straightening his form and nodding in understanding.

“Hmm, are you free to come over tomorrow? Eight o’clock?”

When he affirmed with his usual nod, she picked their glasses up and took them into the kitchen. Concealed by a separating wall, she swiftly drained his untouched glass as well.

“So, what’s your name?”

She returned to the living room with a series of planned out questions, only to find it empty. The large man had vanished.

“Are you here?” When she was met with silence, she let herself walk forward and slump across the couch. 

Only the notebook on the table served as proof of their encounter. She reached for it and realized he’d added a smiley face before leaving. Pressing the heel of her hands into her eye sockets, she wondered how this would turn out. Would this work, or was she running down a dark and dangerous path? 

She swiftly went and locked her doors. The pristine, tiny gift box Black Noir had left for her was still sitting on the front door counter. Grabbing it as well as the oriental lilies he’d collected for her, she retired to her bedroom.

A storm had since brewed outside, thunder cracking off in the distance. And she too felt electric, blood rushing through her veins.

She stayed awake all night.

.

In the meanwhile, the man she was thinking about was crouched on her roof, listening to her now steady heartbeat. He always stayed until she fell asleep. Once her breathing had deepened and evened out, he usually took his leave.

He could hardly concentrate on anything other than the young woman who’d taken a chance on him. His thoughts were clouded, and his blood was rushing. Jaw closed tight, he was consumed by their plans for the following night. He hadn’t wanted to leave when he did, but he knew it was for the best. 

Being showered in her attention had been intoxicating, like a shot of heroin.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to reign in the turmoil building inside. Under the torrent rain, he felt the clash of thunder and bursts of lightening rattle inside his chest. He felt unbreakable.

She was a secret, a mystery he’d slowly unravel. She was so much more than what he knew about her, and this intrigued him. The way she’d reacted was a flag, a signal telling him that there was something else to the pure energy he’d found himself associating her with.

Energy flowed through his body, and he knew he needed to channel it and defuse it. He needed a target, a mission, anything to focus his mind. He raked through the night’s events, and immediately found what he was looking for. The man who hurt her and stopped her from going to the Broadway show. 

He conjured up a clear image of his face and his whole body bristled with uncontrollable anger. Jason, he mused. Yes, Jason would do

That night, Black Noir would spend the hours hunting.

 PART 5 PART 6

Giulia