#oh and by the way the ''open with emotions'' thing is gradual. That tag is for later

[blueraineshadows]

Chapter 14

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️F!MC 🔺️ Leander Prewett

Tensions are building as emotions run high. Leander’s life hangs in the balance, and choices must be made.

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Tags: NSFW / Violence / Blood / Torture / Angst / Trauma / Dark Magic

Chapter 14: Trust Must Work Both Ways

Leander 

The insistent throb of pain in his chest made every heartbeat feel like fire, the pain spreading outwards in a wave with each pulse. It echoed in his head, his thoughts cloudy and fractured as he tried to open his eyes. It was so quiet, and he could feel a chill in the air, the scent of dirt mingled with a freshness that made him think of deep woodlands and clear, blue skies. It didn’t make sense. The last thing he remembered was the narrow chalk tunnels, running through the dark, and a girl screaming.��

Each time the world tried to flicker back to him, the pain intensified, but he couldn’t move his arms to try and ease it. The ground was cold and damp beneath his clothes, and when he tried to open his eyes to see, the blurry dimness was nothing more than smudges before him, illuminated in pale gold. 

Was this how it would all end? He tried to remember what happened, but the throbbing pain made it hard to focus. As he tried to place events in order in his memories, flashes of images presented themselves, all of them bleeding into one another as he rasped in wheezy breaths. His lungs burned. A woman with cold blue eyes. Luella Rookwood. A stinging slap to his face, rough hands dragging him. Miss Montgomery weeping. Pain. Always the pain.

The kitchen in Shell Cottage drifted in and out of his thoughts. He breathed in slowly, carefully, fancied he could hear the waves crashing on the shore, catch a glimpse of silken black hair and crystal blue eyes. He could hear her, she was speaking softly, her fingers touching his cheek. He wanted to retreat into the vision, it was safe there, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. 

“Lee, please, look at me,” her voice whispered, but there was an urgency to it. It didn’t match the peacefulness of the cottage. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.” 

His lashes fluttered, and a groan escaped him as the pain smashed into his chest anew. His head rolled, but gentle hands caught it and held him steady. He tried to swallow, his lips moving, but a mere croak came out. “MC?” 

He could hear her soft sniffles as though she was crying, and he blinked quickly, forcing his eyelids to open. Wincing at the glow of a fire torch, a hazy vision of MC came into view. She leaned over him, her hands holding his head.

”Oh, thank the Gods,” she gasped, gentle fingers smoothing back his hair. 

Gradually, his surroundings came into focus, the peaked canvas roof of a tent, a dirt floor. When he made to lift a hand to touch MC, bound ropes stopped him and he grunted, panic adding pressure to the awful pain in his chest as he tried to move. 

“Hold still,” she urged, holding up a potion bottle. His eyes felt itchy and tight as he focused on the little glass phial. Wiggenweld. “Open your mouth. I’m going to tip it in.” 

Her hand held his jaw as he parted his lips, and she eased his head back. The potion hit his tongue, his whole mouth tingling at the liquid relief. He was so thirsty. 

“You’re going to be alright,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at something. He wished he could move his arms. Her touch on his cheek pushed back against the agony. She smiled. “This time, I’m going to save you.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed the potion, focusing on the feel of her fingers stroking against his face, and let the drowsy feeling of sleep claim him again. 

MC

Her hands shook as she carefully eased Leander’s head back against the thick, wooden tent post, his eyes fluttering closed again. He was deathly pale under his freckles, his lips almost white, and it made for a sharp contrast against the blood. His cheek was slashed, and blood had trickled down from a wound on his head, his usually neatly combed hair sticky and mussed. His drowsiness frightened her, he didn't seem to know where he was, but when he had spoken her name, the relief had been palpable. 

They didn’t have much time. Sebastian could only distract for so long. Leaving the potion to work on Leander, MC crawled around him to the blonde girl tied against the pole at his back. She appeared relatively unharmed, just a split lip, likely from a swift blow to silence her. MC shook her shoulder and she groaned, blinking slowly before fixing a piercing gaze on her. She frowned, and then her face morphed with recognition. 

“You’re MC,” she said, clearing her throat. She sat up straighter, scowling at her bonds. “Did you do this?” 

MC scoffed and shook her head, narrowing her gaze a little as she studied the girl. She must be the one Leander had told her about, the new Auror who took McKinnon’s place. Her hair was pale blonde, her face as pretty as a little doll. She looked every bit the delicate maiden, but there was a strength in those eyes that spoke of determination and strong will. There had to be something about her considering she had made it through the Auror training program. 

“Are you injured?” MC asked, her eyes scanning down the slim frame beneath the Auror robes. 

“No, no I don’t think so,” she replied. Her intense gaze studied MC warily. “You are MC, aren’t you? The prisoner that Auror Prewett meets with.” 

MC aimed her wand towards the ropes, her face carefully impassive. “That’s me,” she said. “And you are his new partner. Apologies, I don’t recall your name.” 

“Montgomery,” she said, eyeing MC’s wand with a touch of wariness. “What are you doing?”

“Hold still. I’m going to cut the ropes and then I need your help. Leander is badly hurt, and I need to get him out of here.” 

She stiffened, her eyes flaring. “First name terms? How cosy.” 

MC fixed her with a hard stare, hoping that this girl didn’t start the sarcastic games that McKinnon seemed to favour. “Do you want me to cut you free, or not? Honestly, I don’t care either way. I just want to get Leander out of here before your worst nightmare comes through that door. Trust me, you do not want to face the camp Executioner.” 

Montgomery swallowed hard, her eyes darting towards the tent flaps that led outside, shifting nervously under her ropes. MC took little satisfaction in the flare of fear that flitted across Montgomery’s gaze, her patience was on a taut leash, her attention drawn to how Leander was faring. Reaching out a hand, she felt his forehead. It was cool to the touch, no fever.

“How bad is he?” Montgomery had twisted her head, trying to get a look at Leander behind her. “He was hit by a blasting hex from Luella Rookwood. His head hit a crate as he fell back.” 

“Not as well as I would like,” MC muttered, fresh hatred bubbling up for Rookwood’s spawn. She grit her teeth as she imagined Leander being hit, grimacing as she cast a slicing charm and the ropes fell apart, freeing the young Auror. MC shuffled back as Montgomery pushed the severed ropes free and brushed dust from her robe, shifting up stiffly and then gasping when she spotted Leander slumped behind her. There was concern in her eyes, but she recovered swiftly, her training kicking in as she did a quick scan of the tent, her mouth set into a firm line. 

“What is this place?”

“You’re in Scotland,” MC replied, crawling back to Leander to check on him. “This is an Ashwinder camp about three miles east of Bainburgh. I wouldn’t bother memorising the location, they move regularly to avoid discovery.” 

“They took our wands when they captured us,” Montgomery said, shuffling closer. “Any chance your plan to get us out involves retrieving them?” 

MC gave Montgomery a curious glance. Considering her dire circumstances, this Auror had a steel spine, and she was clearly ready to do whatever it took to help, including looking to an ex-prisoner for answers. There were none of the sly games that McKinnon had favoured, at least for now.

“You are going to trust me, then?” MC asked, looking Montgomery right in the eyes. 

“If it’s good enough for Auror Prewett, then yes, I will trust you,” she nodded. “What do we need to do?” 

A grudging respect for this Auror filtered through to MC, but she would still be keeping a close eye on her. She nodded towards a wooden bench on the far side of the tent. “Your wands should be on that table over there,” she said, pulling out another potion from her pocket. “Grab them, and then we need to get Leander awake enough so we can Apparate. I’m hoping he will be strong enough to travel that way.” 

As Montgomery hurried to search for the wands, MC gently took hold of Leander’s face, stroking his uninjured cheek. “I need you to wake up again, Lee,” she said, rising tension making her constantly glance towards the tent entrance. “Someone could come and check on you at any moment.”

His eyes fluttered, blinking open a bit quicker this time, the first dose of potion doing its work. She gently clasped his jaw, using her thumb to pull down his lower lip. “Another potion, Lee,” she murmured, meeting his bleary gaze. He managed a stiff nod and opened his mouth. “That’s it. This will help. Where does it hurt?” 

He swallowed down the potion and tried to move, wincing with a sharp intake of breath. “Chest…bad,” he wheezed. “Head…”

Sucking back tears at seeing him look so weak, fear dragging ice fingers down her spine, she leaned closer to him. “I need you to stay awake for me,” she urged, stroking back his hair. “I need to get you out of here. Do you think you could manage me Apparating you? Is that safe?” 

He nodded. “Do it,” he rasped. 

Swiftly cutting his ropes, she grabbed his shoulders as he slumped. Montgomery crouched beside her, the found wands in her hand. She helped MC steady Leander, her eyes far too curious as she looked between MC and him. 

“I’m going to assume nobody else in camp knows you are in here,” she said shrewdly, her eyes darting towards the door. “You risk the whole operation if you are caught assisting us.”

MC fixed her with another cold look. “I’ve got someone being a distraction, but it gives us minutes at best. I suggest you hold on to me, now.”

Both girls froze as the tent flap was shoved open, MC immediately snatching her wand into her grip and moving to block Leander. She thought she might actually faint with relief when Sebastian stepped in, quickly pulling the flap closed behind him. He looked tense, his eyes scanning the scene quickly before he hurried forward.

“Time to go, now,” he snapped, taking her arm. He glanced down at Leander and grimaced. “Shit, he doesn’t look good.” 

Montgomery was gaping, her eyes wide in shock. “Gods, you’re…you’re Sallow,” she gulped. 

Sebastian turned his gaze to her, seeing her properly for the first time. His lips curved into a smirk. “Indeed I am. Pleasure to meet you, Miss,” he said smoothly. He held out a hand towards her. “I assume you’re coming with us.”

“Auror Montgomery,” she mumbled, sliding a hesitant hand into Sebastian’s grip.

MC rolled her eyes at the blush that stained Montgomery’s cheeks as she wrapped her arm firmly around Leander, and tugged at Sebastian with the other hand. “Seb,” she hissed. 

As soon as Montgomery’s hand was firmly within his, he gave MC a nod, and that violent tug pulled behind her navel. It was mere seconds, but she felt the heavy drag in her arms as she clutched Leander, feeling the weight of bearing two as they were ripped through time and space. 

Sebastian

The landing was neither elegant or gentle as they crashed into the soft bed of wild grass. He hadn’t taken them too far, only to the Scottish border, a small spot near an old ruin of a castle. It was fully dark, a chill wind whipping across the exposed landscape. MC was clinging on to Prewett as if her life depended on it. From the looks of him, it was his life hanging in the balance, the blue tinge around his mouth suggested chest wounds and his pallor was very poor.

“Where the blazes are we?” Montgomery leapt to her feet, wand in hand as she scanned the darkened moor around them. “I thought you were taking us to get help. St Mungo’s would have been the better option.”

“For you, perhaps,” Sebastian muttered, more concerned about his own immediate problems. He reached for MC, grasping her elbow and tugging. “Come on, we need to get back to the camp before anyone notices we are missing.”

The tight, furious look on MC’s face told him he had a fight on his hands. Her fingers were curled into Prewett’s bloodied robe, and her chin lifted in that stubborn way of hers. “I’m not leaving him until I know he is alright,” she said flatly. 

“When they realise that the Aurors got out, it won’t take a genius to figure out who helped them when they discover you gone, too,” he pointed out, his own stubbornness kicking in. The mood back at camp had been restless, the Ashwinders hyped up by the scrap in the tunnels. Having prisoners to torment had their teeth gnashing eagerly, and things would sour really fast once they discovered the empty tent. He tightened his hold on MC, eyes dark and firm. “We need to go. Now. Let him go.” 

The flicker in her eyes, just a flash of pain that was quickly masked, but it revealed the double meaning behind those words. As soon as she could release her hold on Prewett, Sebastian had every intention of Apparating them both back to his tent, but her hands remained fisted tight in his robes, her mouth a tight line. Letting him go was more than just the physicality of it. She had to leave him here, in the dark. Injured, and in the hands of a stranger. That crack in her shield had revealed the panic, and the pain of having to let go. 

“I can’t just leave him,” MC said, her voice wavering slightly. Even her lips trembled. “He needs help.” 

“What exactly is going on here? You seem to be rather over familiar with Auror Prewett. Is there something afoot here that I should be aware of?” 

MC turned her attention towards the suspicious blonde Auror, her eyes hardening. Sebastian looked to her, too, but kept hold of MC’s arm. Montgomery was watching them through narrowed eyes, her wand not aimed at them, but ready in her grip. 

“There is nothing you need to be aware of,” MC said, her tone laced with ice. “Is it really so shocking that I would help him?” 

The wind whipped at their hair and clothing, but the rattle of Prewett’s wheezing breaths could still be heard. He coughed, blood staining his pale lips. As much as Sebastian could throttle the bastard through his fear of losing MC, to see him in this state was a sobering moment. He remembered Prewett as the stammering kid who still hadn’t grown into his feet at school, opening his big mouth without thinking, always trying to keep up with his peers but somehow managing to fall short every time. 

Look at him now. His robes were of fine quality. He was a fully fledged Auror, living a good life, and he had managed to capture the soft part of MC, and that was no easy task. Her shields were high and thick, but she had let him in. He’d always figured he hated Prewett, but perhaps it was merely envy. The bloke had carved himself a path through his struggles, he had done well, and it merely highlighted the mess Sebastian had managed of his own life. His ambitions had led him into darkness, whereas Prewett had strived to be better. Did he deserve to die in a field for his efforts just so Sebastian could keep MC close?

Sebastian found himself kneeling in the damp grass, pressing a hand to Prewett’s head to check for fever, his thoughts already racing through the various healing spells he knew through long hours of research. He heard MC’s sharp intake of breath, her cool hand clutching his arm. Had she thought he would hurt Prewett? Perhaps finish him off? It made his guts twist in shame because perhaps he was more than capable of doing just that. 

“It’s alright, MC. There is no fever, but his breathing suggests dangerous chest injury,” he said, aiming his wand towards Prewett’s sternum. “If his ribs are broken, they could have punctured his lungs. I can check.”

“Will he die?” MC asked desperately, as the tip of Sebastian’s wand glowed white.

A quick glance at her face revealed her fear despite the darkness of the wild moor around them, the weak light from his spell casting ghostly shadows on her taut expression. If Prewett died, it would crush her. If helping this damned Gryffindor didn’t prove how far he would go for her, then nothing else would. 

He shook his head. “Not if we help him.”

“I can’t believe what I am seeing,” Montgomery gasped, her eyes wide as she watched on. “An Ashwinder helping an Auror!”

Sebastian ignored her, allowing the spell to show him the cracked and ruined mess of Prewett’s ribs which were definitely broken, the images flickering before his eyes in black and white like an ink drawing. The spell he had learned during a study session with Ominis, researching ways that might help his old friend ‘see’ things. They had been amused at the illusions of their friends in skeletal forms, casting the spell on unsuspecting students at Hogwarts. At the time he hadn’t anticipated the uses he would need it for later in life, and now, staring at the ruin of Prewett’s chest cavity, he felt his stomach churn at the pain it must be inflicting on him. 

“You believe the hype that surrounds us, it seems, Montgomery. Perhaps we are not the monsters you think we are,” MC countered, eyeing Sebastian's wand movement as she gently stroked Prewett’s hair back. “How bad is it?”

Sebastian grimaced, meeting her worried expression with a shake of his head. “He needs a Healer. Broken ribs, most likely internal bleeding. I can mend the bones. I reset an Ashwinder’s broken leg once. It mended up a treat. As for the bleeding, that's a bit more tricky.” 

“He needs to go to St Mungo’s,” Montgomery insisted. “All Aurors have a designated bed available due to the violent nature of our work. He would be seen immediately.” 

“Then let's go,” MC said, already holding Prewett against her. His head rolled, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids flickered as though he would wake, but he remained limp in her embrace. Time was running out. 

“No, we can't,” Sebastian said, grabbing her arm. “I'm wanted in London. You are supposed to be under cover, and with that article printed in the Prophet about you, there will be suspicion on both sides. Damage limitation, MC. Let Auror Montgomery take Prewett in. We need to return to camp and keep up appearances. You've done your part. You got him out.” 

“Listen to him…” Prewett rasped, the effort of speech making him cough. Blood gurgled in his throat, his face contorted with pain. MC clutched at him, her hand fluttering like a panicked bird near his face.

“Right, that’s it,” Montgomery said, dropping to the grass on her knees. Her wand was put away, her hands reaching for Prewett. Grim determination settled over her features and she gave MC a pointed look. “I’ve got him. I’ll take him to St Mungo’s.”

For a tense few seconds, Sebastian eyed both women, certain that MC might shove the Auror away and disappear with Prewett alone. He kept his grip tight on her sleeve just in case. If Rookwood so much as caught a sniff of her arriving at St Mungo’s with an Auror in her arms, it would be over. 

Something softened on Montgomery’s face, and she placed a careful hand on MC’s. “Clearly, you think highly of him,” she said gently. “Don’t worry. I will make sure he is cared for. Go back to the camp. It’s what he would tell you to do, isn’t it?” 

Slowly, reluctantly, MC nodded and withdrew her hands. Sebastian put his arm around her, trying not to notice the way she was staring at Prewett as though it would be the last time. 

“I should be taking you back to London in charmed chains, but I will let it go just this once. You have surprised me, Sallow,” Montgomery said, wrapping her arm around Prewett to support his head. Her eyes gleamed in the darkness, pale light from the slither of moon peeking between swiftly moving clouds highlighting the pale blonde of her hair. “The reason I have this position is because you took out my predecessor. You are the most wanted murderer in our books, and yet, here you are saving not just me, but an old rival, too. Perhaps I should be thanking you.” 

“I’m not doing this for you,” he said coldly, narrowing his eyes. At the edge of his vision, he saw MC look up at him. This was for her, just as he had promised. Anything for her, even if it meant saving Prewett’s skin. “Get him out of here.” 

“Don’t let him die, please,” MC begged. 

The vulnerability in those words cut Sebastian like cold blades. He could feel her trembling and he held her closer, noting the puzzled curiosity on Montgomery’s face as she nodded. In the blink of an eye, they vanished, the crack of the magic splitting through the blustery night. MC buried her face into his chest, the shield completely slipping from her as she sagged, a sob tearing from her throat. 

MC

It mattered not that Sebastian had draped another blanket over her as she lay in his bunk. Still she shivered. Huddled into the smallest shape she could manage on the camp bed, the blankets drawn up to her chin, MC fought the tiredness that tightened her eyes. The tears had subsided, and she had to believe that Montgomery was good on her word, that Leander was safe in St Mungo’s. Yet, if she allowed her eyes to close, all she could see was his deathly pale face, the blood on his lips, and the terrifying sound of each rattling breath that echoed from his crushed chest tortured her memory. 

Fear was a strange companion. She was definitely no stranger to it, spending many hours crouched in the dark of Azkaban and facing terrors no human should have to. Fear for yourself was something she could grasp and own, swallow down and challenge. Fear for another person ate at you like a ravenous beast, its hungry teeth devouring everything inside of you in uncontrollable tremors that left you hollow and fractured. An unfortunate side effect of becoming attached to another person, of loving them and caring about them, was to face the devastating fear of losing them.

If she had ever doubted her attachment to Leander, she no longer did. The thought of her world without him in it left her cold. Especially since it had been her word that had sent him into those tunnels in the first place. If he died, then she had sent him to his death. 

A hand touched her shoulder, Sebastian’s shadow casting over the bed as he blocked the glow from the lamp on the table. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

She could hear the worry in his voice, the plea for her to take down the wall she had slammed up around herself, but she merely shook her head and kept her face turned away. He had brought them back to the camp, immediately pouring her a fire whiskey that she had tried to push away, but he made her drink it promising it would warm her up. The drink had indeed burned all the way to her stomach, but the shivering had not stopped. 

Refusing any more of the horrid drink, she had let him tuck her into his bunk, murmuring reassurances that Leander would be okay. It still hadn’t fully sunk in how he had helped. Sebastian hated Leander, and she had given him good reason to want to hurt him, but he had done no such thing. She had shared Montgomery’s surprise, and needed to thank him for his kindness, but the words were stuck solid behind her fear. 

He had done it for her. I’ll do whatever it takes, MC. 

Her throat ached with fresh tears but she bit them back, swallowing down the softer parts of herself behind the safety of her thick walls. Not until she knew that Leander was alive and well would she allow herself to take a true, deep breath. 

Sebastian stroked her hair, the solid weight of him leaning against the side of the bunk a comfort despite the distance she had needed to put up. She felt the press of his lips at her temple and closed her eyes, a brief respite at the soft warmth, before the rustling of the tent doorway made her rigid once again. 

“Well, isn’t this cosy,” a soft, feminine voice drawled. 

If there was one thing you could say about her and Sebastian, it was how in tune they were when it came to that sense of threat. Sebastian was on his feet in one fluid motion, and she was upright, blankets thrown back and her feet hitting the floor just as fast. Once again, despite her superior power, Sebastian edged until he was slightly before her, ever the protector. 

Luella Rookwood stood in the entrance of the tent, her beautiful face decorated with smudges of dirt and splatters of blood. Her blonde curls were escaping from the pins that held it back, her mouth twisted in displeasure, her eyes spitting furious envy as she glared. 

“What do you want?” Sebastian asked carefully, his hand hovering at his wand holster.

Luella smirked, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. “Not your usual greeting for me, Sebastian,” she drawled, her gaze lingering over him. “Is that for her benefit?”

MC forgot her fear for a moment, hatred pure and cold solidifying in her gut. The way this bitch tried to claim Sebastian merely added to the utter thirst for revenge that thrummed thick and hot through her blood. Luella had hurt Leander. She was the reason he had looked like Death could come to claim him. MC didn’t even remember doing it, but her wand was already in her hand, her fingers clamped around the handle like a vice. 

“Get out,” MC hissed, barely hanging on to the threads of her control. 

Luella lifted an eyebrow in bored curiosity. “Are you threatening me, little prisoner?”

MC felt Sebastian’s touch against her lower back, a silent warning. “Nobody is threatening anyone,” he said softly, but MC heard the tell tale silky tone in his voice. It was the voice he used in the duelling pit, smooth and controlled, but behind it was a storm waiting to be unleashed. “Why are you here, Luella? It’s late.”

“And yet, Daddy’s little pet is here, tucked up all snug in your bed,” she said, moving closer, slow and deliberate like a prowling cat. “Does my father know you’re playing with his new toy?” 

“No more than he knew about us,” Sebastian said smoothly. 

The smirk that curved Luella’s mouth made MC’s blood curdle, her fingers adjusting around her wand. “What’s the matter little prisoner? You look a little tense. You did know that I used to share that bed once, hmm? Something tells me that I was merely keeping it warm, though. A convenient bit of fun until you crawled back out of Azkaban.” 

It was hard to tell if the reproachful look she gave Sebastian was genuine or not. Either way, MC felt rage blister up her spine, her limbs trembling for a completely different reason now. She felt Sebastian grip the back of her blouse, but it didn’t stop the surge of power that coursed through her veins. Her ancient magic truly did thrive on powerful emotions, and MC felt like she might actually implode from the spinning web of feelings assaulting her this evening. 

Luella’s eyes widened and she took a hesitant step back, her hand grasping for her wand. “Gods, look at her eyes,” she muttered, throwing Sebastian a bewildered glance. “What’s happening to her?” 

Sebastian’s lips twitched upwards, a look that bordered on the edge of pride lighting his eyes. “Isn’t she quite marvellous?” He said, his fingers caressing up and down her spine. “All that power, just waiting to be unleashed. It’s easy to see why your father is quite taken by her. A true rarity in the world.” 

Luella lifted her chin, her mouth settling into an entitled pout, her wand at the ready. “Father always did like his trinkets and toys, although he tires of them quickly, discarding them for something newer and prettier. Something you have in common with him, Sebastian.” 

Luella’s eyes glittered with challenge. Clearly, her ego suffered at his rejection. MC grit her teeth, sick of the fancy word play. Her magic seemed to crackle and fizz at her fingertips, the tremor visible in her wand hand as she aimed towards Luella’s stylish, black boots. The short, sharp blast of white hot magic erupted from the end of her wand, striking the floor of the tent right before Luella’s feet. The whole space lit up with the ancient magic glow, making all three of them wince. Luella yelped and jumped back, but not before the magic had scorched the lower parts of her trousers and ruined the fine leather of her boots. 

Her head jerked upwards, blonde curls bouncing as she fixed her enraged eyes on MC. “You dare to strike at me!” She hissed. 

Sebastian had his wand up and ready, his hand once again grasping the back of her shirt. MC had the growing suspicion that he clung on to her in fear that she might disappear. He seemed reluctant to leave her side, and kept a constant hand on her. Reigning in the surging power of her magic, MC sucked in a steadying breath, but kept her aim on Luella. 

“I’m going to make you squeal in pain, little prisoner,” Luella vowed, her eyes narrow slits of hate. “I’ll make you fear every mirror you come across knowing the horror your own reflection will provide once I’m through with you.” 

“Now, now, Luella, my sweet. Less of the dramatics, if you would. That is no way to speak to my guest,” Rookwood said smoothly, entering the tent behind his daughter with his usual air of confidence and flair. He smiled with all the icy charm of a venomous snake, his gaze sweeping around the tent whilst wrinkling his nose in disdain. “My word, Sallow. This tent is rather lacklustre. You ought to upgrade, dear boy. Put your wand work to good use other than for torture and death, and transfigure yourself some more luxurious furnishings.” 

Luella quietly seethed beside her father, her cheeks flushed and her fists clenched at her sides. “Look what she did to my boots,” she said, pointing down towards her feet, her words ground out through clenched teeth. 

Rookwood barely gave them a second glance before he shrugged. “Conjure yourself a new pair,” he suggested. 

“Are you joking?” Luella scoffed, her mouth tightening. “These boots came from Paris, the finest craftsmanship there is! There is no conjuring a pair such as these.” 

Rookwood sighed and pinched his thumb and forefinger at the bridge of his nose. “Then return to Paris for a new pair if it means that much to you. I care little,” he said, his voice thin on patience. He gave them all a withering look. “Now then, what’s all this petty squabbling about? I sent you over here to ask Sallow about the missing prisoners. Where are we on that matter, daughter dearest? May I remind you that my patience is already dangerously thin after this evening's series of events. Some good news would be most welcome now.” 

MC shuffled closer towards Sebastian and she could feel the tension in his grip on the back of her shirt. This is where they needed to play it calm and steady. MC gripped her wand with both hands and settled her features into the blank, cold stare she so favoured. 

“Your daughter barged in here and disturbed my rest,” she said, her voice cool and level. “After days hiking through the Highlands on the hunt for ancient magic deposits, I was feeling rather exhausted and retired early. I’m not sure I appreciate being awoken and threatened in such a manner.” 

Luella glared with outright hatred, her eyes wide at the sheer audacity. Sebastian dipped his head, no doubt fighting a smirk. 

“You were sleeping? So, you missed the drama concerning the Auror ambush?” Rookwood asked his questions, his cold, blue eyes assessing her carefully. 

MC tilted her chin upwards as she nodded to confirm. “Sebastian was just filling me in on tonight’s news when Luella charged in here. I’m not sure I appreciate such hostility. It’s also rather dangerous considering how charged my magic is after absorbing new deposits. It can be rather unstable and difficult to control. I’m afraid some magic unleashed itself and damaged Miss Rookwood’s footwear.” 

The lies rolled easily from MC’s tongue, spoken to appeal to Rookwood’s sheer greed over her magic as a means of distraction. It appeared to work, his eyes lighting up at the mention of her absorbing more power. “You were successful in your search, then?” 

“Indeed we were,” Sebastian said, his voice dripping with cool confidence. “And we think it should be easier to find more now. It appears the deposits could be linked to deep emotions, and we plan to continue the search. With your blessing, of course.” 

“Of course,” Rookwood said, dipping forward in a slight bow. “And you shall have it.” 

Luella folded her arms, her face screwed up in frustrated disgust. “This still doesn’t explain how my Aurors managed to escape from the prisoner tent,” she fumed. 

“That sounds rather close to an accusation, Luella,” Sebastian said, tilting his head. “Are you suggesting MC had something to do with their escape?” 

MC arranged her features into a grimace. “Why in Merlin’s name would I help any bloody Aurors? I’ve spent the last few years locked up behind bars because of those pricks, I can’t say liberating one of them is high on my list of priorities.” 

“Indeed,” Rookwood said, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his chin. “In this case there were two captured Aurors.” 

“One of them was a tall redhead by the name of Prewett,” Luella said, her face now sickeningly smug. “I remembered you mentioning this particular Auror before, Sebastian. Isn’t he the one who visited you in Azkaban, little prisoner? He escorted you out as well by all accounts. I thought a little reunion might have been particularly interesting. The fact he managed to get away whilst crippled by injuries is both puzzling and disappointing.” 

MC felt fear begin to trickle down her spine. This bitch knew too much about Leander already. “I remember him,” she said stiffly. “I can’t say I’m in a hurry to see him again, either.” 

How bitter the words tasted on her tongue when her entire being itched to travel to London and lay eyes on Leander. The need to see him alive and healed pressed with an urgency that made her want to fidget, but she held herself firm. 

“Not even to whisper secrets into his ear?” Rookwood leant forward, his gaze so piercing that MC fancied it felt like ice scraping along her bones. “The Daily Prophet deems you a public risk, and the Ministry claims they have it all under control. It’s a tricky situation. I have you here in the midst of my family where you can hear all sorts of wonderfully dark secrets, and now prisoners are disappearing, my lock ups are being raided. Tell me, sweet one, what you would think in my position?” 

MC refused to cower under his scrutiny. She had faced Dementors, she had stared into darkness that tried to clutch her within its grasp and chase all reason from her head. This was just a far reaching, greedy man and she was sick of all the game playing. She could handle this. She felt her spine stiffen, her face became hard and cold, her eyes glittering chips of stone to equal his. She had become one with her wall of defence, all that was soft and vulnerable so deeply hidden by this cold fury she presented that it could have been non-existent. 

“I suppose that all depends on what it is you truly want, Rookwood,” she said carefully, tilting her head as though pondering his question. “I mean, if it bothers you so much, I could always just leave. Without me, there is no power, the problem goes away. I shall continue to research and grow my understanding of what I am capable of regardless of your involvement. You have ambitions. I get that. It seems to me that you need me more than I need you, though. Choose what you wish to believe, but don’t play games with me, and don’t send your daughter into my private space so she can throw accusations and threats around. Next time, I won’t be so polite, and perhaps it will be more than a pair of scorched boots for her trouble.” 

Luella gaped, incredulous. “Are you hearing this, father? You see how she threatens me to our very faces?” 

Rookwood considered MC carefully, his eyes subtly narrowing as he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. When his gaze flicked towards Sebastian, a slight frown creased his brow. “You truly are a cold little thing, aren’t you? And yet, Sallow appears unaffected by you. He stands as if he would protect you, unflinching. What hold do you have over him, hmm? You killed his kin in cold blood, and yet he remains loyal to you.” 

MC shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, whilst her heart thudded with a frenzied rhythm beneath her ribs. “He has the same choice as you, Rookwood. He can stay, or he can leave. Either way, it makes no difference to me, or my magic. But, he has been with me since the beginning. He understands. He also knows that I could kill him at any moment, I could kill anyone. Ashwinder, Auror, or otherwise. I’ve been crossed by all of you and the only person I fully trust is myself.” 

It took everything she had to stop her hands from shaking, from breathing in rapid gasps, as she pondered the truth of that statement. 

“I’ve seen what she can do, Rookwood,” Sebastian said, following the thread she had begun to weave with his habitual confidence. “You’ve seen it, too. Mere glimpses perhaps, but you know as well as I that MC is dangerous. The Ministry knows it just as well, and I don’t doubt that they will have eyes on her. They would be fools not to. I also believe that MC hasn’t reached her full potential yet, there has to be more. Are you willing to suffocate that over a pair of missing Aurors that mean little to this cause? They were nothing more than toys for your Ashwinders to break, and yet you risked having them here in camp where they could lay eyes on MC. What if they did hear she was present? They now have that information to take back to the Auror Office. You risk them coming to claim her back under the ruse of arrest.” 

Rookwood threw a disgusted glare towards Luella, who flinched back in surprise. “The boy has a point,” he snarled. 

“You would take their side over your own daughter?” She cried, spluttering in disbelief. “Are you seriously going to believe all this graphorn shit they are speaking?”

MC could have hugged Sebastian right then for his clever manipulation of words. He had always been able to squirm his way out of trouble, deflecting attention by highlighting points that pressed upon a person’s weaknesses. He was dangerous when it came to these types of games, and she was fully aware of how she was equally liable to fall for it. His tenacity had always been a trait that she had admired, though. 

Rookwood’s mouth was a white line, his usual theatrical presence squashed under a temper that flickered cold fire in his gaze. “These two bring me news of success in the form of discovered deposits. You bring me chaos and two problems in the form of escaped prisoners who now have potential intelligence on us. You who should know better!” 

Luella’s cheeks flushed scarlet, her eyes darting towards MC, who couldn’t resist a cold, satisfied smirk in return. The indignation on her face was far too satisfying for words, so instead, MC reached out a hand and caught hold of Sebastian’s, linking their fingers in a bold statement of unity. That’s right, bitch. He is mine. 

“Sebastian and I intended to return to the search for more deposits at first light. Is that going to be a problem?” MC asked, her tone exceptionally calm and innocent. 

Rookwood turned his granite expression her way, his eyes scanning them both in a way that made her palms itch. “Do what you must. Absorb all deposits you come across,” he nodded. He turned and grasped Luella by the elbow. “As for you, daughter of mine. We have matters to discuss in private.” 

With a gentleman’s bow and a tip of his top hat, Rookwood exited the tent with a furious Luella in tow, the last look she threw back towards MC livid with a promise that this wasn’t over. 

MC stood completely still, her fingers gripping Sebastian’s hand as the sound of departing footsteps receded from the tent. The opening fell closed, flapping gently in the night breeze that came down off the surrounding high peaks. She could hear her own restrained breathing, the erratic pulse in her ears from the effort of maintaining such tight control. It had been too easy. Rookwood had rolled over without any push back at all, and it left her uneasy. 

Sebastian let out a long sigh as though he, too, felt the tension. He pushed his fingers through his mop of hair and brought their clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You are brilliant,” he said quietly. She lifted her gaze to him, the strength of her barriers wobbling. “Scary, but brilliant.” 

One look at those chocolate coloured eyes and the defences fell. She sagged, shaking from the adrenaline and stunned at her own audacity. Of course, he caught her. She was held against his chest as he wrapped strong arms around her, her own hands clutching at his jacket in an effort to ground herself. 

“I’ve got a really horrible feeling about this, Seb,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, remembering the flash of furious envy in Luella’s eyes when she noticed the deliberate way MC had held Sebastian’s hand. In trying to show a front of strength, she had allowed her own jealousy to get the better of her, and she had shown her hand in more ways than one. 

“You weren’t wrong, MC. You do hold all the power, and that is just what Rookwood wants,” Sebastian said, stroking soothing hands down her back. “It will be alright. You’ll see.” 

“We should just cut our losses and kill him now,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “We could do it easily. Kill him, take what we can, and run, before anyone else has to get hurt.” 

“If you think it’s easy to get access to his collections, think again. They are well hidden and guarded. Killing him now will cut us off to all the artefacts and knowledge he has stored, all the items that belonged to Isadora that he stole. I know how much you want those,” Sebastian said, cupping her face. “Not only that, what’s to stop the Ministry arresting you for his murder again? They can claim you are unstable, you broke the terms of your probation, and they could throw you back into Azkaban in order to keep you under control. I am not going to risk that happening again, MC.” 

“How many more people have to get hurt, or even die because of this cursed magic festering in my veins,” she hissed, clenching her hands in frustration as angry tears burned under her lids. “Why did it have to be me? Why did I have to be given this power? I don’t want it, Sebastian. I hate it!” 

“Hey, hey, easy now,” he soothed, making her look up at him, his thumbs easing across her cheeks. “Take a breath. You’ve got this, MC. Your power is a gift, and I don’t know anyone else who could handle it as beautifully as you do. You amaze me with your strength, your ability to keep that gorgeous head up despite everything that gets thrown at you.” 

She stared at him, her eyes softening slightly. “You and that smooth talking mouth of yours, Sallow,” she huffed. 

A smile flashed on his lips, but a shadow of concern drifted into his eyes just as quickly. “This defeatist talk. Is it because of Prewett and what happened this evening?” 

MC dipped her gaze to his neck, her fingers toying at the open collar of his black shirt as she swallowed past the ache in her throat. “He could have died. Seeing him like that…” She paused, horror clamping her in a vice. She closed her eyes and took a breath. “It was my fault. He wouldn’t have been in those tunnels if I hadn’t told him about them. You were right. It was me. I sent word to him, and now he is in St Mungo’s fighting for his life. All because of me.” 

A muscle ticked in Sebastian’s jaw. “How did you tell him?” 

Warmth crept across her cheeks, but she didn’t flinch or hide from him. “We have a secret method of communication. Please, don’t ask me to explain. The less you know about it, the better. Just in case this all goes to shit.” 

“You know trust needs to work both ways,” he said quietly, his eyes guarded. “You said you wanted to trust me, but I need to be able to trust you, too.” 

She nodded. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “Any other information you share with me, I will tell you if I intend to share it with Leander. Like you said, we are all on the same side here.” 

Sebastian held on to his wariness, but he was gentle as he held her chin and bent his head to hers. “It will be a cold day in hell before I trust an Auror, but I hear you. Thank you for telling me the truth.” 

His lips were warm and soft, and MC welcomed the feel of his kiss, drawing a little comfort from the intimacy. Each kiss, each caress of his hands eased the tightness in her tense muscles, added a seal to the spoken bond of trust they needed to enforce between them. Her blood fired with a different kind of magic that came from the unexplainable pull he had on her, their bodies seeming to have an understanding far beyond their comprehension. 

Once again, she found herself curled against him, his arms holding her close as they drowsed on the edge of sleep. His hands roamed up and down her back, shaping her hips and sliding contentedly along her thigh. The occasional soft brush of lips against her face, ear and neck sent shivers across her flesh. As intimate and as comforting this shared closeness felt, MC could not shake that uneasy niggle that something wasn’t quite right. 

The hour was very late when she whispered in his ear that she needed to excuse herself for a moment. He mumbled sleepily, a soft smile lingering on his lips after she pressed a long kiss there before slipping from the warmth of his bed. The air was cold, goosebumps prickling her skin as she pulled on her boots and selected a warm robe from her chest. Pausing at the tent entrance, she glanced back towards the bed, soaking in the image of Sebastian asleep, his hair tumbled against the pillow. 

“Please, trust me,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.” 

Quietly slipping out into the night, her breath fogged before her face as she hurried away from the tent, not wanting the snap of her Disapparating to wake him. The stars shone above her head, innocent observers to the dark and twisted lives that played out below. Under the cover of some nearby trees, MC felt a flutter of anticipation behind her ribs, bracing herself for the long distance she needed to propel herself across. Closing her eyes, she pictured the city of London, her focus centred on the aged cobbled street of Diagon Alley. 

In the shadow of the pitched tents in camp, a figure stood very still, eyes watching as the robed figure of MC left the tent and hurried into the trees. After the crack of her magic made her vanish, a slow grin spread across a knowing mouth, and the figure turned to go and make their report. 

Leander 

Arriving at St Mungo’s and being tended by Healers became a patchwork of hazy memories that came to Leander in jumbled flashes. The pain in his chest cancelled a lot of lucid moments out, the bitter taste of blood thick in his mouth. Words of reassurance had been spoken into his ear, the gentle hands of Auror Montgomery touching to his brow in hesitant comfort before the Healers had urged her to leave him to rest. In the silence of his designated hospital room, the tangled web of his memories rushed in, and his slowly healing chest began to quicken as he remembered MC being there, the tears on her cheeks. Perhaps most shocking of all, was Sallow. He had helped her. He had helped him. 

The healing potions and spells had been strong, knocking him out into a deep, restful sleep. His ribs had begun to knit together, the cracks and breaks becoming smooth bone as though they had never been ruined. His lungs repaired, making his breaths return to their gentle rhythm once more. His head had been cleaned, his hair neatly combed, the wound at the back soon to be a distant, painful memory. Even his hospital issued robe was free of any stain, a spotless, crisp white, edged in blue. The beauty of magic being able to erase all physical traces. The mental struggle was another matter entirely.

Waking from his sleep, Leander blinked slowly against the low light of a bedside lantern, the room still and quiet. There was a lingering ache in his chest, but he could breathe freely, rolling his head against the plush pillow and then stilling as he realised the warm pressure of a hand clasped with his. Glancing down, a swift breath left his lips in surprise at the sight of MC.

Seated in a hard hospital chair, her head was laying against his bed sheets, her dark hair pooled against the starched white, her hand wrapped around his as she slept. There were dark smudges under her closed eyes, but her features were relaxed, lips slightly parted. There was nobody else in the room, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been there, and if anyone had seen the familiar way she lay with him. It was a risk to be caught with her like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand from her grip. Instead, he kept still, watching her rest as he had done so many nights when she had stayed with him, his thumb gently stroking against her warm skin. 

He must have dozed off again, because the next thing he knew, he felt the press of a kiss to his forehead. Blinking his eyes open, he stared up into flawless, spring sky blue, a smile lingering on MC’s face as she stared down at him. 

“Ah, so you’ve decided to join the land of the living after all,” MC said softly, she gave his hand a squeeze, a shadow flickering in her gaze. “You scared me, Lee. Don’t you dare do that again, you hear? I forbid it.” 

Amusement twitched at his mouth. “And miss waking up to this beautiful smile? I shall have to think about it.” 

Her lips parted and she huffed a short laugh. “Leander Prewett, when did you become such a smooth talker?” 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he grinned. “It could be all the potions and medicine I’ve swallowed giving me superpowers.” 

“All the pretty nurses had better watch out, then,” she smiled, moving back to sit on the edge of the bed, although she kept hold of his hand. He could feel the warmth of it spreading up his arm, but reminded himself not to read too much into it. 

“You are taking a risk being here with me,” he said, his voice a little raspy still. “Especially after that ridiculous report in the Daily Prophet. If you are seen with me it could jeopardise you in the camp.” 

Her face darkened and she looked down at their joined hands. “It might be a bit late for that. I think I have fucked up anyway. I’ve got a bad feeling, Lee. Something just feels off, and I don’t like it.” 

“What do you mean? Tell me,” he urged, frowning slightly as he tried to sit up a bit more. She put her hand against his shoulder and pressed him back against the pillows with a firm look. 

“Just remember you are here to heal and rest,” she said, holding him there until he allowed himself to relax. Slipping her hand back into her lap, she glanced towards the door and leant closer to murmur quietly. ���Rookwood is rolling over too easily. I don’t like how he just accepts everything that I say with a smile. He fucked me over once before, there is no reason for him to not try it again. I know he already has an idea to drain the ancient magic from me, but I can’t get rid of this nagging that there is something else.” 

Leander’s frown deepened and he pushed back against the fog lingering at the edges of his memories, rubbing his face as he tried to remember his conversation with Andrew Larson before the raid on the tunnels. 

“I mentioned Merlin and Morgana to Andrew, and he did find a few documents about them, although there was only a very brief mention of ancient magic,” he said. He gave her a curious look. “He did say something about Rackham, though. He is one of the Keepers below Hogwarts, isn’t he?” 

MC nodded. “Yes, he was a vessel of ancient magic, too. It was his portrait that I spoke to the most about it during my time at Hogwarts. He gave me the impression that he led the other three, but despite the words of wisdom he offered me, I always felt as though he was holding back. All three of them did, to be honest.” 

“Andrew tells me that there is a lot more to be discovered when it comes to Rackham, that there are files in the Department of Mysteries about him and his visions. He was a Seer, and whatever he relayed to the Ministry is kept under strict lock and key. This isn't an unusual practice. Predictions about the future can be dangerous if in the wrong hands.” 

“What if the visions are about a particular person? Do they not have the right to view these predictions?” MC asked, her chin tilting upwards. “Do you think there are predictions about me in there?” 

“I honestly have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I suppose it is possible considering the ability you both share. I don't have access to the Department of Mysteries and neither does Andrew up to a point. We have spoken before about how secretive they are.” 

MC looked deep in thought, her teeth worrying at her lower lip for a moment as she stared blankly across the room. “Maybe it is time that I paid a visit to Professor Rackham again,” she said, her voice tinged with reluctance. She gave him a dark, resigned look. “It would mean returning to Hogwarts and the chamber beneath. I can’t say the idea is all that appealing, but if I explain the situation, perhaps I can get Rackham to talk.” 

“I can speak to the Head of the Auror Office and set things in motion with Headmaster Black,” Leander offered, that eager feeling washing through him at the thought of getting back to work. “I can go to Hogwarts with you, if you wish. You don’t have to go alone.” 

Her eyes seemed full of sadness as she looked at him, her other hand shifting to close over both of their clasped ones. “You really are too good for this world, Lee. Look at you offering to follow me into even more trouble when you’re lying here in this hospital bed. You don’t deserve such darkness, especially from me,” she said, blinking quickly as she dropped her gaze. 

“Hey, I didn’t take the role of an Auror expecting rainbows and unicorns, MC. Getting hurt is a risk, but it’s part of the territory. It’s why they reserve beds for us here. Don’t take the responsibility of this onto your own shoulders. I won’t let you,” he insisted. 

She gave a nod, but avoided his gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Do it. Set up a visit to Hogwarts, and as soon as possible. I don’t want to give Rookwood too much time with his plotting. Sebastian and I are going to keep away from the camp for a few days under the ruse of seeking out more deposits for me to absorb.” 

“A ruse?” He frowned. “What will you really be doing?” 

MC leaned even closer, her eyes darting towards the door again. “I want to revisit Isadora’s old haunts, maybe there was something I missed the first time around,” she whispered. “I also want to track down more information about my mother. If she truly still lives, I want to find her. Ominis is helping me with that. His aunt, my mother’s sister, left him her house in Norfolk, and he has given me permission to go there and read some old family journals that may help. Rookwood must not know about my connection to the Gaunts. I’d rather Marvolo Gaunt doesn’t find out, either.” 

“Okay. Just be careful,” he nodded, holding her hand a little bit tighter. His other hand drifted up to brush back strands of her hair, his fingertips grazing against the shell of her ear. “And stay in touch via the parchment. I cannot help but worry about you.” 

“Only if you do the same,” she said, meeting his gaze. 

He couldn’t stop the pleased smile curving his mouth. “You worry about me?” 

“That is not what I said, Prewett,” she said, sitting up primly, but warmth lingered in her eyes. 

Leander would have loved to say more, to tease more smiles to her mouth, but the door to his room opened. MC jolted and slid her hand from his, rising quickly to her feet as she turned to face the door. The loss of her warmth was regrettable, but he too had stiffened in the bed as Auror Montgomery entered, pausing in surprise to see MC standing there. Leander felt his cheeks and neck heat up, adjusting his bed sheet nervously. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Montgomery said, her own cheeks reddening. “I didn’t expect you to have visitors already at this hour.” 

Her gaze darted curiously between MC and himself, and he cleared his throat, his jumbled thoughts grasping for something to say, but MC seemed to have things under control. She stepped towards Montgomery. 

“I should be the one to apologise,” she said smoothly. “I took a risk coming here tonight, but I needed to make sure that Lea…erm, Auror Prewett was well. I thought a visit during the day would raise too many questions.” 

Montgomery arched a brow. “And your visit now doesn’t warrant a few curious questions?” 

MC stiffened. “Considering I saved your neck tonight, any questions you may think you have will surely be kept behind closed lips. Lives are at risk, Auror Montgomery, including your own now that the Ashwinders know your face.” 

Leander bit his lip as the two women stared each other down. He had become so accustomed to the rare warmth that MC allowed him to see, that to witness the colder, harder side of her still managed to make him shiver. Perhaps more surprising, was the way Montgomery kept her head up, and rather than cower under what was surely a hard glare in MC’s eyes, she merely nodded. 

“I must thank you for your assistance. You did indeed save our lives tonight, both you and Mr Sallow have my sincere thanks,” Montgomery said. “I did not expect it from Sallow. You will forgive my surprise that he leant a hand.” 

“All you have heard about Sebastian is what the Aurors want you to hear,” MC said. “I am fortunate to know him better than that. Things aren’t always what they appear to be, Montgomery. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to Scotland before I am missed.” 

When MC turned to him, Leander saw the hardened expression on her face, but for him, she allowed a softness to darken her eyes. “Rest up now, Prewett,” she said. “I will be in touch.” 

Leander nodded, his eyes doing the talking, and then she was gone, walking swiftly out of the door into the corridor beyond. Montgomery watched her go before closing the door softly, her gaze turning to him with burning curiosity. 

“Before you say anything, MC is right. The less you know about her, the safer you will be,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. 

Montgomery moved closer towards the bed, her hands smoothing the front of her skirts. “The last thing I would ever wish to do is cause you any trouble, Prewett,” she said carefully, but her eyes were still lit with that burning curiosity. “But, anyone who sees the two of you together can clearly see that there is something between you. You did not see what I did whilst you were badly hurt. This is much more than an Auror and his informant. That girl cares for you, and deeply. Only a fool would not see it.” 

“I have known her for a very long time,” he said, reaching up to fiddle with the front of the hospital gown. “We were friends as children, school friends. That was partly the reason Harrington assigned me to her case in the first place, thinking that our previous bond would be beneficial in coaxing her to cooperate.” 

Montgomery frowned slightly as she sat in the chair that MC had used, her back perfectly straight, hands clasped in her lap. “Well, I must say it seems to have worked wonderfully well. She seems rather taken with you. It is puzzling, though. From reading the case files, I thought that she was romantically involved with Sallow. He was awfully touchy with her. You could almost say possessive. I am still in shock how he helped us, he is not what I expected at all.” 

Leander closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over him. “What can I say? This is a complicated case.” 

Never had a statement been more appropriate. Montgomery eyed him, lifting a hand as though to place it on his forearm, and then thought better of it. She pulled a piece of parchment from her pocket instead and tucked it into his hand. 

“I can see you are tired, but the reason I came is to give you this,” she said, her eyes lighting up with that fire and spirit he had come to recognise. His fingers curled around the smooth parchment. “I swiped it from the office just now and came straight here. The other Aurors were more successful in the tunnels, they have seized many crates of valuable items that are being assessed as we speak. There was also a ledger full of names and dates, but this…this is a map of other locations situated around the British Isles. These could be more storage locations, or dens, perhaps.” 

Leander sat up straighter and opened the folded parchment, his tiredness forgotten. “This is huge, Montgomery. Why did you bring it to me? Surely Harrington and the others will be already planning to investigate these locations.” 

She smiled, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “They would if they knew about it. I happened to be having a poke around the books they had seized, and this fell out of one. When I saw it was a map, my curiosity got the better of me, and then I knew it would be of importance when I saw the symbol at the top.” 

She reached forward to point at the little swirling icon near the top, and it was only then that Leander noted the date in the top corner. He met Montgomery’s amber eyes, his own curiosity firing into life. “That is the symbol for ancient magic,” he whispered. “How did you know that?” 

Montgomery blushed furiously and twisted her hands in her lap. “Well, you see, I was a second year when MC came to Hogwarts. When the truth about her spread around the school, I was in awe of her, and the magic that she could wield. I have been reading anything that I could get my hands on about ancient magic, which to be honest is very little. She fascinates me. I couldn’t believe my luck when I landed a position on this case, and to be partnered with you of all Aurors. You have a connection to the woman herself!” 

Leander stared at Montgomery, his lips parted. “You…you make her seem like a…a goddess, or a super human entity,” he stuttered. 

“Well, isn’t she?” Montgomery shrugged. “She has power beyond anything the rest of us can understand, she defeated a goblin rebellion and fought against the most powerful dark wizard of our time, or at least so we thought. Now, she has come out of Azkaban seemingly unfazed, and walks amongst the most dangerous wizards in the country. To come face to face with her was extraordinary, especially when it became apparent that she was saving us.” 

Leander swallowed and leant back against his pillows. To him, she had always been MC, the girl he couldn’t stop staring at over the plants in Herbology. So caught up in how enamoured he was of her, he hadn’t given much thought to her having an elevated status in the eyes of others. He felt reasonably confident that he knew the girl behind the mystical powers, behind the articles written about her. The pedestal he had placed her upon varied significantly from the one Montgomery clearly cherished. 

He turned his gaze to Montgomery, remembering the time she had almost begged to accompany him on his meeting with MC, the sparkle of curiosity that constantly lingered in her gaze. A chill swept down his spine as he came to the realisation that others could see the same in MC, hero worshipping her in ways that meant they would follow wherever she led. With all that ancient magic at her fingertips, she could summon an army and cause mass destruction if she chose the dark path. 

For the first time he seriously considered how dangerous MC actually was, and how deeply he had involved himself in assisting her. He swallowed thickly again, his throat unbearably dry. 

“Did you still hold this fascination with her when she was imprisoned for murder?” He asked. 

Montgomery grimaced and shook her head. “I was devastated. She went from saving the world, to taking lives. It fuelled my motivation to become an Auror, though. As I progressed through my training, I came to wonder if perhaps things were not so black and white. Seeing your first dead body raises questions one would rather not face,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Tonight merely confirmed it for me. The way she is with you, saving you like that, and she even said it herself just now. Things are not always what they seem, there are shades of grey blended in the blacks and the whites of the world, and underneath all that power, is she not a human like the rest of us. I believe she is.” 

“What are you saying?” He asked carefully. 

She nodded down at the parchment map in his hands. “That map means something. I couldn’t fully understand it beyond recognising that ancient magic symbol. Some of the locations are familiar, of course, but I am certain this is far more valuable in the hands of MC than in the hands of the Auror Office.” 

“But, that’s withholding evidence, Montgomery,” he chided gently, the rule breaking chaffing a little despite his own little discretions. “Is that really how you want to start your career?” 

Her face settled into one of determination, her eyes lit with it. “I believe in seeking out the truth, and gaining justice for those who deserve it. You strike me as being of like mind, Auror Prewett, and I don’t believe for one moment that you believe MC to be the villain the world wants to paint her as. I would even go so far as to say that you would do anything for her, even break a few rules for her, rules such as not becoming emotionally involved with a suspect.” 

Her eyebrows lifted in a knowing smirk, and Leander felt a fierce flush heat his cheeks. 

“I want to help you,” she said firmly, her hands gripped tightly in her lap. “Taking the map was my first step into dangerous territory, I am fully aware of it, but I think this will be worth it. MC is one for the history books, and I want to be a part of it. Let me help you, Auror Prewett. Let me help her.” 

Leander was astounded, and he sat there staring at his new partner with fresh eyes. She was right about this being dangerous territory, and another person in the know merely added more risk, but it would be mighty lovely to have someone on his side in the office other than Andrew. Perhaps he should doubt her intentions, maybe this could be a trap to catch him out, but the way she stared at him, she appeared resolute and fully aware of what she was saying to him. He glanced down at the map, noting the locations, one of which was Hogwarts School. What did it mean? 

Montgomery was already in it up to her neck stealing this map, and she had seen too much already between him and MC. It was a cold thought, but if the circumstances required it, Montgomery could be silenced. It made him quiver in horror just to think of it, but he knew MC wouldn’t hesitate should this prove to be a trap, neither would Sallow. 

“You know the risks this would present, and not just to you, but those you are close to as well,” he said slowly, his gaze serious. 

She nodded. “Anything worth fighting for always comes with risk.��� 

“And you think MC is worth fighting for?” 

“I really hope so, Auror Prewett,” she said, her eyes shining with her hope. “The potential she has…the good she could do. Is that a yes? You’ll let me help you?” 

Leander sighed and smoothed his hand over the map before nodding. “Yes, you can help me,” he replied. Montgomery uttered an excited squeal and clapped her hands together. He bit back a smile. “You may as well start by dropping the formality. Call me Leander.” 

Her smile lit up her face. “And you may call me Ivy.” 

Sebastian 

Waking up to find MC missing had tightened the ball of lead that had settled in his stomach ever since Rookwood had left the tent. Both Luella and her father were dangerous people, and MC had boldly thrown down the gauntlet in front of them. He hadn’t argued when she had voiced her concerns that something felt off, but reassuring her seemed the best option. Inside, he was shitting a brick. 

Launching himself out of his bunk, he pulled on his boots, the panic like vicious claws as he double checked that his wand was in his holster. He had to find her.

Where had she gone? The fear that Rookwood had taken her hovered, but she could fight him off fairly well, and she wouldn’t have gone quietly, either. The other option presented a different kind of fear, the fear of what it meant for their relationship if she had run off to London to find Prewett. She said she had chosen him, that she would have to let the Auror go, but the way she had crumbled at the sight of Prewett bloodied up and dying fed into his flames of envy and fear. Not only did he fear losing her, but she could end up blowing the entire cover story if caught being soft for an Auror.

Throwing on his jacket and running a quick hand through his jumble of hair, he strode out of the tent, greeted with the cold air of pre-dawn. A strip of gold and pink lit the horizon, the nearby trees a dark shadow crouched at the base of the nearby peaks. His lungs burned as he breathed in the chill, his breath out fogging before his face as he glanced around camp. At this hour, it was quiet, the fires burning low. A distant bird gave an early call at the impending rise of the sun, the last few stars still clinging to the sky. 

He missed Rosier, a second pair of eyes would have been rather handy about now as he stalked through the camp, his gaze darting into every corner. His stomach rumbled in protest, but breakfast would have to wait. He needed to lay eyes on MC before anything else took priority. Footsteps sounded behind him, boots on packed dirt, and he turned, glancing over his shoulder. He paused as Luella gave him a sultry smirk, her hair neatly pinned back from her face now. 

“Morning, handsome,” she purred, stepping closer towards him. “You’re up early. What’s the matter? I’m surprised your little bed warmer didn’t keep you tucked up under your blankets. Or, maybe…just maybe, she isn’t there?” 

��Where is she?” His eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing against the cold, mountain air. 

Luella chuckled, one hand on her hip. “She is a piece of work, your little prisoner, isn’t she? So hard, so cold, so uptight. How is cuddling up to her better than what we had? I was never that cold with you, sweetie. We were all about fire and fun.” 

“Enough with the games, Luella,” he said, his voice flat and bored. His stomach twisted, waiting for the trap to spring. She was far too cocky not to know anything. “Clearly, you have a point to make, so make it. Where is MC?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged, her smile borderline devious. She twirled her wand playfully. “Although, if I were to put a few galleons on it, I would wager she is in the company of Aurors right now. I’m right, aren’t I? You think I'm a fool, Sebastian, and you know how I hate to be made a fool of, don’t you?” 

“I don’t think you’re a fool at all, Luella,” he said, keeping his face cool and calm. He even dared to smirk a little. “As for the Aurors, I couldn’t confirm or deny such a claim as I have no idea, either. If she is with them, then she has played me, too.” 

Her smile widened, her head tilting as she studied him. “Interesting. Well, I guess we shall find out.” 

He frowned. “Oh? How’s that?” 

“Father wishes to see you,” she said, her smile disappearing. “He has a little surprise for you.” 

Sebastian stilled, his smirk fading as he realised he was unlikely to enjoy this little surprise. Luella came closer, standing before him, her eyes glittering with something that made his spine freeze. She held out her hand to him. “Shall we?” 

He felt sick. Everything inside of him screamed to run in the opposite direction, but he couldn’t do that. There was too much at stake here. Feigning a confidence he didn’t feel, he smiled as he slipped his hand into Luella’s. She Disapparated instantly, dropping them into the centre of a freezing ruin, stone walls crumbling against a backdrop of wild Scottish landscape. 

“Ah, at last! Here he is,” Rookwood announced, holding out his arms in a gesture of welcome, his smile arrogant and cold. “Welcome, dear boy, welcome. We have been waiting for you.” 

A muffled cry came from the side and he turned his head, his stomach dropping so violently that he actually doubled over clutching at it. “No,” he gasped, the word a strangled sound that did nothing to convey the sheer horror and fear that seized him. 

Rookwood laughed, his gaze turned to a sky breaking with the dawn of a new day. Luella gripped Sebastian’s arm, her breath against his cheek mingling with the frigid cold breeze that swept through the ancient castle walls. “I warned you, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I warned you this would happen, but you went and fucked me around anyway. Nobody makes a fool out of me, Sebastian. Nobody.” 

The horror of this situation sunk wicked, cold claws into him, rendering him speechless, and all the while he could hear this screaming terror spiralling through his head. It was like he was 16 years old again, old bones at his feet, and everything he ever loved was about to be ripped from his grasp. 

MC 

Walking the clean corridors of St Mungo’s hospital, you could glean the sense of safety that came from good people doing all that they could to assist others. The atmosphere was one of warmth, protection, Healers and nurses moving about the building offering gentle smiles as they passed. If they knew who she was, she didn’t feel any sense of hostility despite the rumpled, dark nature of her clothing, or the untidy locks of her hair that fell loose about her shoulders. 

Exhaustion pulled at her, dragging her downwards towards a haze of fog, and she longed to just curl up and vanish into it. That persistent sense that something loomed clung to her, something dark and dangerous just waiting to jump out and destroy everything. Not even the relief of seeing Leander sitting up in bed could dispel it. MC hugged her arms around herself and walked slowly towards the hospital foyer where she could Apparate, finding herself filled with a longing to be held by someone who would tell her that everything would be alright. 

The story of her life. She had always held a deep and profound longing for that. 

Sebastian waited for her back at camp, no doubt still asleep, his smart mouth softly parted, his pretty hair wild against the pillow. He would hold her. He would hold her for as long and as hard as she wished. She just had to say the word. 

Not for the first time, she heard softened footfalls in the corridor behind her, glancing back to just catch the glimpse of a robe swirling out of sight around a corner. She hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. The corridor remained silent, the lamps glowing to provide a low light at this hour. Her sense of impending doom seemed to be making her paranoid, for she felt certain that this robed figure was following her. 

Continuing on her way, MC glanced out of a window, the sky beginning to lighten with the first promise of dawn. Quickening her steps, she felt eager to get back to Sebastian. They needed to gather their things and leave, setting out to revisit Isadora’s old hideaways. MC had the urge to walk where she had once trod, soak up the ambience of those old places in the hopes of bridging some connection. 

As she entered the foyer, soft footsteps made her turn again, and this time she caught sight of a slender figure in a dark grey robe, the hood raised to cast shadow over the face of whoever it was. They appeared to be female, slender hands tugging the hood lower as they dipped their head. 

MC frowned, her hands clenching. “Are you following me?” 

The robed girl paused, her back to MC, her head turning slightly as though they might meet her gaze. But, the sharp crack of magic filled the space instead, the robed figure becoming a twisted swirl of black as they Disapparated. 

MC flinched, swearing under her breath. That impending sense of doom seemed to sharpen, and her chest tightened. The urge to get to Sebastian swelled and she pictured the inside of his tent back at camp, focusing all of her magic into getting her there. She desperately needed to see his face.

Sebastian 

If he closed his eyes hard enough, the memory played out as clear as though he was right back there in the moment. He could feel the gentle dip and sway of the little boat, he could see the way the starlit sky reflected off the surface of the inky black waters of the lake. In the distance, Hogwarts stood proud and strong, the windows lit with the warm glow of welcome. His little freckled hand gripped the side of the boat, the other wrapped tightly around that of his twin. Inside, his stomach was a riot of nerves as he looked up at the huge castle. His heart squeezed at the memory of his mother’s embrace, her tear filled eyes as she bid him farewell. He wanted to make her proud. He would show her. He would prove that he could be as brilliantly clever as she was. 

Daunted at the prospect now as he faced where he would live for the foreseeable future, he maintained his brave face, squeezing Anne’s hand and pretending that it was she he was comforting and not the other way around. 

“Don’t worry, Sebby,” Anne whispered. “We have each other. Always.” 

When he opened his eyes, it was no longer night, and the sky bled with a crimson sunrise. A cold wind gusted against him, ruffling his hair as he choked and spat dirt from his lips. The pain crashed against him like a wave, warping his vision as he twitched and bit back his screams. Fighting it with everything he had, he thrashed on the ground in the centre of the ruin, blinking furiously until he could see her. All the time he could see her, it would be alright. 

Anne was on her knees, her mouth gagged and her hands bound at her back. Tears streamed down her sunken cheeks as she watched him. Powerless, weak, trapped. His twin, his other half, the stronger beat of his heart. Kneeling in the dirt with a wand aimed at her head. All the time he took the pain, that wand remained silent. 

“Crucio!” 

His back arched from the ground, the scream that left his throat left him raw, and tears bled from his eyes. How many times had he inflicted this pain on others? Too many to count. It was so very different to be on the other end of it, but he would take it, he would take everything they had to give to keep their attention off Anne. 

His skin felt like it was peeling back away from his flesh, his very bones screamed in agony, wildfire spreading and pulsing until he had no control over anything. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Rookwood called out, delight ringing in his tone as though this was some kind of party game. 

Sebastian could not stop shaking, his teeth chattering madly as his eyes rolled trying to focus. He could taste blood in his mouth. He had bitten his own tongue. 

A booted foot pressed against the side of his face, pulling an agonised sound from him at being touched. His skin protested savagely at the contact. 

“You know better than anyone how much I detest a traitor, Sallow,” Rookwood purred, bending down to look at him, lip curled in disgust. “Think of this as a little warning, if you would.” 

The boot lifted and Sebastian writhed, panting and spitting the blood from his mouth. He glared up at Rookwood with all the will he could muster. 

“My, my, you are a stubborn bastard,” Rookwood chuckled, stroking his chin. “Bring the twin.” 

Sebastian grunted in his effort to get up, falling back into the dirt as Anne was dragged across the ground towards him. She was weeping profusely, fighting her bonds as she was thrown down beside him. Sebastian reached for her with arms shaking so badly he thought he would miss, but his fingers grasped her shawl and he dragged her closer. She moaned, the muffled sound of his name coming from behind her gag. 

“Anne,” he managed to gasp, holding her to him. With no hands free to return his embrace, Anne pressed her head to his chest, nuzzling against him like a tiny kitten. 

“How touching,” Rookwood crooned. “Sibling love. The things we do for our loved ones, hmm? You can imagine my surprise when I sent for your sister to come and pay us a visit. I do love it when I come across an old acquaintance. It certainly shed some light over some things I have been pondering about.” 

He chuckled again and Anne twisted to glare up at him, practically growling with defiance. Rookwood bent to grasp her chin, his wicked grin so gleeful and cold. “Look at you, precious girl, still fighting against the gift I gave you all those years ago. You and your brother have remarkable spirit. Tough, little Scots, brave until the very end, I don’t doubt.” 

Anne ripped herself from his grip, falling back against the ground with a thump. Sebastian dragged her into him again, shuddering violently, but determined to hang on to her. 

“All we need now is my ancient magic wielder, and then the party will be complete,” Rookwood smirked, glancing around the ruin with smug arrogance. “It’s time for us all to have a little chat.” 

Dread coursed through Sebastian, his fingers like claws as he clutched a shivering Anne to his chest. They were waiting for MC. He was a quivering wreck on the ground, barely able to breathe let alone square up to anyone, and both of his girls were in danger. His worst nightmares had become twisted reality. 

He looked down at Anne, her big brown eyes looking back at him, eyes so like his own. All the bitterness and fury evaporated, and all he could see was the love he had for her, every time she had held his hand in comfort, every time he had ever returned the favour. He’d do anything for her. It was his job to protect her, and he’d gladly die doing it. 

“It’s…alright…” He managed to gasp, his shaking hand touching her hair. “I promise…it’s alright.” 

He fiercely wished that he could believe it. 

To be continued...

Taglist

@eternalremorse @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @evaslytherpuff @loving-him-was-red13 @sevprince-91 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[hugsandchaos]

Here’s a new idea of how Dash became a Halfa!

Basically, he was infected by ectoplasm. During a ghost hunt, which he tagged along for because he liked going into the forest and thought it’d be interesting even though they hadn’t found any yet, he gained an open wound in his side. The ghost that showed up fired a blast of ectoplasm at the wound and knocked him back.

It killed him, but only for a second, because just like Danny and Vlad, the ectoplasm fused with his DNA and spread quickly. When he woke up, he was a halfa now. The Fentons had very little idea of what was happening to him, so they monitored him closely.

That includes his mental state. Very slowly, but gradually, they noticed that he started loving dogs more and more. As if being half ghost gave him an obsession, and they were that obsession, however his human half allows him to still have some self control.

Oh, and he has a scar on his side from where the ectoplasm originally fused with his DNA. The A-listers were the first he told about this, and they were understandably worried about him. Dash is now pretty nervous about fighting anyone with sharp objects, because that’s what caused the injury in the first place. The ghost was able to manipulate metal and tore off a piece of the ghost van to shoot at them, and Dash practically jumped in front of Jack because he was down.

Don’t worry, he’s going to therapy. Knowing this, you can really understand how terrified and determined he is to fight other ghosts to make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.

Vlad’s story is like a mixture between Dash’s and Danny’s story. It was the portal that turned him into a halfa, technically. The portal blew up when Vlad was carrying ectoplasm samples and was standing a little too close to the portal. The blast sent him flying back, and the glass bottles cut into him when they broke.

Both the blast and the glass shards gave the ectoplasm the chance to seep into his bloodstream. By the time he was at the hospital, the process was complete.

After that, the trio sort of grew apart. It was both of their faults, in a way. Vlad’s new ghost half fueled his anger of what happened, and combined with the sudden change as a whole, he was very emotional and ended up lashing out more than he meant to.

Jack and Maddie isolated themselves from him, only contacting him to apologize for a long time before they stopped because Vlad wasnt responding for months. Their final message was something along the lines of “We’re still very sorry about what happened, and we’re sorry our messages irritate you. We’ll leave you alone.”

And now, both sides still feel guilty. Vlad is sorry for lashing out and being out of control, and he’s sorry for not contacting them again. He didn’t know how to apologize for everything after all these years and was a little scared of how they’d react. Jack and Maddie still feel bad about what happened, but Vlad had forgiven them and let go of his rage a couple years ago.

Yes, the portal was unstable since it was far from perfect, but despite the precautions took, no one knew for sure that would happen. It wasn’t their fault.

And yes, Jazz played therapist to help them say these things to each other and they hugged it out at the end.

Vlad has a couple scars from where the ectoplasm fused on his body. He doesn’t trust himself to hold anything made of glass. He’s working on it, but on bad days, his hands threaten to shake and he puts it back. Fireworks, or anything resembling explosions, make him anxious as well.

What do you guys think?

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 17 - To Watch The Dying of the Day

Summary: Say, isn't it strange? I am still me, and you are still you. In this place. Isn't it strange how people can change? From strangers to friends, friends into lovers. To strangers again.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters  Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: Oh gosh, it's been so long! A mixture of burnout and chaos will do that to a girl. But it's here, coming in at a strong 7k words. It's on the shorter side, especially since my previous chapters have been anywhere between 10-13k words. But this chapter is transitioning us back into the main story. So do with that information as you will, its going to be a bumpy ride....

TW: None really, just hella angst.

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw 

**please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!

StoryTags: Widowed, Original Character(s), High-Honor!Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Deserves Happiness, Chubby!Arthur Morgan, Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort,Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Child Loss, Infant Death, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Torture, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Aftermath of Torture, Caretaking, Injury Recovery, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Self-Hatred, Night Terrors, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Bathing/Washing, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, John?” Abigail’s voice echoed through the camp as the tent flaps were shoved open harshly by the young man, who only ignored her comment. He was making a beeline for the one person he needed to complete his team—the one person he knew would stand by his side to enact revenge on the men who nearly took his brother's life.

Kate was chopping celery and carrots for an afternoon stew when she heard the heavy footsteps of John approaching. His gaze was determined, each step fueled with a fiery purpose. She glanced up to see Abigail standing not far behind him, arms crossed in frustration, throwing her hands in the air as John continued to ignore her protests. Kate already knew what he was going to ask of her.

John had found Colm O’Driscoll’s hideout, and he was ready to take action.

Kate placed the knife down with a sigh. Since their return from Emerald Ranch, things had been relatively calm. At least as calm as life could get when you were running with a bunch of outlaws, hanging onto the threads of some "plan" by a man she barely trusted. When they arrived back from their trip, Sean and the boys had planned a small party for Arthur—a ‘Celebration of Life,’ the ambitious Irishman had called it. Though it was more likely just another excuse to drink beer, dance, and be rowdy.

They used the get-together as an opportunity to tell the others about their relationship. Kate drank and sang with the girls, talking with them into the late hours of the night about her time with Arthur. Their small circle was filled with ‘aww’s’ and teasing glances. Kate felt a weight lifted off her shoulders after telling them, like somehow their relationship was finally real now that the rest of the gang knew—at least the ones most important to her.

Arthur was gradually reintegrated into jobs and missions, starting with small fishing trips and eventually moving on to more lucrative endeavors like robbing stagecoaches. Kate protested at first, trying to convince him there were safer ways to make money, but she knew she couldn't take the thrill of the heist out of the outlaw so easily. Arthur found work where he could, especially when Dutch wasn’t ordering him around. All of Arthur’s worries about being replaced seemed to dissipate in the days after his return. Dutch, ever the charmer, appeared overjoyed that Arthur was making a steady recovery and happy that his son found some happiness in a woman. He couldn't resist leaving Arthur with a gentle reminder that their priority was, and still is, to make enough money to escape. Arthur assured him with a promise: he would see it done.

This morning, Dutch sent Arthur, Sean, and Micah into Rhodes to meet up with Bill. Sheriff Gray wanted to speak with them about some work, and Arthur felt mighty proud to be involved, given his month-long absence. After breakfast, Kate pulled him aside for a few quick good-luck and be-safe kisses. It had become a new habit of theirs, since alone-time was rarely granted. They always made sure to say goodbye when one was leaving for a job, sealed with a kiss and a hug.

Kate looked up at John from under the brim of her hat, wishing in that moment Arthur was there to set him straight. But she knew nothing was going to change the young outlaw’s mind.

“Kate,” John greeted with a nod, his tone indicating he was ready to say more.

Wiping her hands on her raggedy apron, she leaned against the cutting table. “Fine afternoon, ain’t it, John?” she said with a smile, squinting up at the sun.

John wasted no time. “We’re ridin’ out today, to Hanging Dog Ranch. You coming?”

“Is that so?” She sighed. “What for?” Kate’s voice carried a hint of feigned ignorance. She knew why, but she was still trying to find it in herself to say no.

Since their ride back from Emerald Ranch, Kate had wrestled with Arthur’s words. She knew revenge was foolish, but seeing the way it had changed him cut her so deep she feared she would carry that rage with her for a long time. It was the same rage she felt years ago when she lost everything. Back then, her anger often consumed her, but over time she learned how to control it, to use it to protect herself and others. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to keep her word to Arthur, but also to protect him.

“You know why, Kate,” John’s voice grew stern, pulling her from her thoughts. “Colm’s men are up there. This is our chance.”

Kate’s heart clenched. She wanted to protect Arthur, to ensure that what happened to him never happened to anyone again. But she also knew that succumbing to vengeance could destroy her just as easily as it could destroy their enemies.

“John,” she began, her voice wavering slightly, “I promised Arthur I wouldn’t get swept up in this mess.”

John’s expression softened a moment, but his resolve remained firm. “I get it, Kate. But we need you. If we don’t take this chance, we might not get another.”

Kate huffed and lowered her voice so only he could hear, “Does Dutch know about this? Doesn’t he have a plan to get back at Colm?” She tried to make him see reason in her questions.

John only shook his head. “To hell with his plans. The way I see it, Colm doesn’t see us as a threat anymore. He tried to lay a trap and set the law on us. Well, he fucked around and it's about time he found out.”

Kate rolled her eyes at John’s ambitious statement. “John, no. I can’t go through with this and you shouldn't either.” She planned to leave him with that, pulling the apron over her head and starting to walk away.

John grunted and followed behind her, his frustration growing more evident. “C’mon, Kate, quit pussyfootin’ around. We need you, and we’re losing daylight.”

Kate turned and saw behind him as the others began saddling their horses and loading their weapons. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw Sadie packing her saddlebags, and her heart began to race as Lenny waited proudly on the back of his stallion, ready to take off at a moment's notice. Charles was there too, making his way over to see what the hold-up was. She was surprised to see this was the group that would be leading the charge. But, after all, these were Arthur’s closest and most trusted comrades.

Consequently, they were also the people Kate cared for deeply and saw as her own family. They were all putting themselves in harm's way for the sake of revenge.

“What would Arthur say about this?” Kate said finally.

Charles had finally caught up to them and heard the last bit of the conversation. “Arthur would say revenge is a fool’s game,” he stated.

“Exactly, thank you Char-”

“But those are his words, not mine,” Charles interrupted.

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose as John continued his persuasion. “Arthur’s the goddamn fool. We need to strike back, now. What if they come after us again? What if this time Colm takes one of the girls, or you?”

Kate felt the weight of John’s words settling heavily on her shoulders. The thought of Colm’s men taking her or any of the other women gnawed at her heart. She couldn’t deny the logic in John’s argument, even if it went against Arthur’s wishes.

Looking past the two men, she saw Lenny waving to her as if simply asking, "What are you waiting for?" John must have told them she would be joining, as Sadie looked over in anticipation, already holding Lorena’s reins, ready to leave as soon as Kate gave the word.

“Charles,” she began, her voice deep with conviction, “you’ve got a level head. This is a bad idea. How could you go through with this?”

Her words came out with a bite, unintended, but they stung nonetheless. Charles had always been a beacon of reason, often the one she or Arthur leaned on in times of need.

Charles' response betrayed no hurt, only his own sense of determination. “These bastards deserve it. Arthur suffered enough.” 

Kate found herself seething at his words, anger bubbling up like black coffee neglected over a fire for too long. The gang knew Arthur better than she did, Kate understood that much. But nobody had watched him suffer like she had. Night after endless night, holding his broken body and cradling him as she willed with all her strength that the pain and tortuous nightmares would cease. Her thoughts drifted to the night of their shared intimacy, seeing how Colm had broken him in unimaginable ways.

Nobody understood the extent of his suffering, except for Kate.

“Sadie suffered by them too,” Charles added after a moment. 

“We’ve all suffered from the O’Driscolls!” John exclaimed with a defeated sigh. “Choose your battles, Kate. But we’re going to send a message to Colm, whether you come or not.”

The two men turned to walk away, their boots kicking up dust as they marched back to their horses, saddled and ready for battle. Moments later, a third pair of footsteps fell in time behind them.

Kate had made her choice.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The dry spell had lingered for well over a month, and the oppressive heat of Lemoyne had turned the air into a stifling, dusty haze. The town of Rhodes lay beneath a thick, barren cloud of yellow dust, each gust of wind sending particles stinging into Arthur’s throat and eyes, making them water. The winds whipped past him as he spurred Belle forward, urging her faster and faster. His grip on the reins was white-knuckled, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as he tried to steady his racing heart.

The Sheriff had caught on to their schemes, and set them up in Rhodes. Sean had paid the ultimate price with a bullet between the eyes. The image of Sean’s lifeless body was seared into Arthur’s mind, a haunting image he knew would never leave him. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the relentless memory that played over and over like a broken motion picture. Sean had been on the cusp of becoming a man, his 24th birthday just a few months away. Though Arthur gave him grief since the day he joined their gang, deep inside he saw the ambitious Irishman as his younger brother. 

The irony of the situation gnawed at Arthur’s consciousness. Sean had warned them it was a setup. He had sensed something was off from the moment they entered the sleepy town, but both Arthur and Micah had dismissed his concerns as mere paranoia. Now, anger swelled in Arthur's belly, especially toward Micah. As much as he despised the shady outlaw, Arthur couldn’t deny that he wouldn’t have made it out alive without his help. Micah recognized that Arthur’s injuries had hindered his abilities, though his accuracy remained as deadly as ever. Together, they had picked off nearly every lawman and trigger-happy drunk who stood in their way, barely escaping with Bill in tow. Arthur knew his disability had slowed him down, and he blamed himself for Sean’s loss. 

The escape was a blur of gunfire and chaos. Arthur's mind raced with the events of the ambush, replaying each moment as a jarring blend of fear and fury. Belle's hooves thundered against the ground, each stride a desperate attempt to outrun the mix of anger, guilt and shame that threatened to overwhelm him. The acrid taste of dust and blood lingered in his mouth, a reminder of the violence they had scarcely escaped.

As they galloped through the barren landscape, Arthur's thoughts turned to Kate. He knew she would be waiting for him back at camp, a small comfort amidst the chaos. But the moment of peace would be short lived, they would have to leave again, and soon. The law would catch up to them in a matter of days. 

The thought of facing Dutch made Arthur cringe inwardly. Dutch would undoubtedly demand a report of what happened, and Arthur knew it could go one of two ways: Dutch might dismiss the incident, as he had when Arthur previously warned about their increasing sloppiness and the Pinkertons closing in. Or he might tuck-tail and opt for retreat to a new hideout, favoring the path with the fewest casualties. Either way, Arthur was in for an earful back at camp. He silently hoped that someone would go back for Sean, praying he wouldn't be discarded in a mass grave. Every man deserved a proper burial, but for people like him and his gang, it was a luxury rarely granted. 

As Clemens Point came into view, a deep sense of unease settled over Arthur. The camp seemed unusually quiet, devoid of the usual bustle and chatter. An eerie silence had taken its place. He panicked for a moment, what if the law had found them while he was away?

Arthur barely had time to dismount before Abigail came running towards him, tears streaming down her face. Dutch was close behind her, his expression grim. A chill ran down Arthur's spine.

Abigail grabbed Arthur's arm, her voice trembling with panic. “Arthur, they took Jack! Someone took Jack!” she cried, her eyes wild with fear.

Dutch placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though his eyes were hard with determination. “We’ll get him back, Abigail. I promise you that,” he said firmly.

Arthur opened his mouth to explain what had happened in Rhodes, but the urgency of the situation left no room for words. His mind was whirling with this new information, trying to piece together what happened while he was away. There was a moment of silence, and Arthur’s heart skipped a beat as he realized Kate was also nowhere to be seen.

“Who took him?” Arthur said finally, his voice betrayed no hint of the unease he was feeling.

Hosea stepped forward, his expression was dire. “We believe the Braithwaites have taken Jack. They’ve been gunning for us ever since we crossed them,” he explained.

“Where is my son?” Abigail shouted. “If anything–oh God,” she choked on the words. “Where is my son Dutch!” 

“We will find him,” Dutch affirmed, clenching his jaw, eyes blazing with resolve. “We’ll make that Braithwaite bitch pay for this.” He surveyed the three men as Bill and Micah stood awkwardly nearby, unsure what to say. “What the hell happened to you three? Where’s Sean?”

Arthur took in Hosea’s words and then let out a breath as he shook his head. “They set us up, Dutch. Sheriff Gray killed Sean, nearly got Bill too. We shot up half the town trying to escape. If we’re not careful about this, we’ll surely be caught by the law.” They were in deep shit now, both families were gunning for them. They couldn't afford another casualty, let alone young Jack. The situation tore at his heart. 

Dutch’s eyes darkened, his mouth set in a tight line. Arthur recognized that look—it was the look of a man out of options. “We’re getting that boy back, Arthur, or so help me God—”

At that moment, the thunderous sound of hooves echoed down the path to their hideout. Arthur's hand hovered over his revolver, his mind still in fight-or-flight mode. As the riders emerged from the trees, he saw John leading the group, with Kate at the rear. A wave of relief washed over him; at least the law hadn't caught up to them yet. But as they drew closer, Arthur noticed Kate's clothing was stained with blood. His relief quickly turned to a mix of worry and dread.

As John dismounted, Abigail flung herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. “They took him, John! They took our boy!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation. John shot a confused look at Arthur, his own emotions swirling with shock and concern. He held onto Abigail, trying to process the chaos around him.

Dutch's voice cut through the commotion like a knife, demanding answers. “How nice of you to finally show up. Where have you lot been?”

“Taking care of business,” John replied dryly, his grip on Abigail tightening as he tried to make sense of the unfolding crisis. The air was thick with urgency and panic, even the winds seemed to hold their breath, anticipating the next move.

“What business?” Dutch spat, his agitation palpable as he glared at his returning crew members. The tension crackled like electricity in the air, setting everyone on edge.

Arthur's heart pounded in his chest, the rapid beat echoing the chaos of his thoughts. Sean's death, the ambush, Jack's disappearance, and the blood on Kate’s clothes all swirled in his mind. He moved with heavy, purposeful steps toward Kate, his focus narrowing to her alone. He tuned out the escalating argument between Dutch and John, his attention solely on the woman he loved.

“Kate,” he called, his voice rough from the dry air and his mounting anxiety.

She turned at the sound of her name, immediately reading the worry etched into Arthur’s face. Noticing her bloodied clothing, she quickly reassured him, “It’s not my blood.”

Relief flooded Arthur, and he pulled her into a tight hug, inhaling her familiar scent. The rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest provided a momentary solace amidst the turmoil.

“What’s going on?” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear as she pulled away slightly.

“Rhodes was a trap. They set the law on us, Sean’s dead,” Arthur briefly explained, his voice heavy with grief. Kate gasped softly, her eyes widening. “We just got back, and Jack’s missing. Hosea thinks it was the Braithwaites.”

Kate stood speechless, feeling the weight of the world crashing down around her. "Oh, Arthur, we have to—"

Arthur gripped her arms fiercely, his eyes burning with a mix of confusion and betrayal. Desperation etched into every line of his face. “Where were you, Kate?” he demanded, his voice laced with hurt and anger.

He hadn’t meant for the words to come out with such force, but his mind was a whirlwind of doubts and anxiety. Jack could be dead for all he knew. The thought of an innocent child being involved in this nightmare gnawed at his soul. Despite everything, Arthur blamed himself for Jack's disappearance. He cursed himself for not ensuring someone was watching over the boy when he left. Normally, there were plenty of people he and Abigail trusted with Jack, but those people had been gone nearly as long as he had. He desperately needed an explanation for her absence.

Kate pulled away from his grip but held his hands tightly, her gaze filled with guilt. Arthur’s heart began to sink, a cold dread settling in his stomach. “We were up at Hanging Dog Ranch,” she breathed. “Where Colm’s men were hiding.”

Arthur’s gaze hardened, a cold look crossing over his features. “I don’t s’ppose you were there to play hooky?” he spat, sarcasm dripping from his words. He felt the world spinning around him, losing Sean, losing Jack, and now, feeling a profound sense of betrayal from the woman he loved.

Kate shook her head quietly, her cheeks flushing pink with shame. “Arthur, I—”

Arthur’s grip on her hands tightened momentarily before he let go. “You promised me, Kate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You promised you wouldn’t get involved with Colm.”

Kate’s heart shattered at the pain in his eyes. “I know, and I am so sorry. But I thought—”

“You thought what?” Arthur interrupted, his voice rising with a mix of anger and fear. “You thought this would help? That getting yourself killed would make things better?”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears, her voice trembling slightly. “I just wanted to protect you and the others from those terrible people.”

“That is not your job, Kate!” Arthur shouted, and Kate flinched, taking a step back from him.

Arthur let out a breath, shaking his head, the betrayal cutting deep. “You just don’t get it, do you? You don’t understand what it does to me, seeing you put yourself in danger like that.”

“I see you put yourself in danger every day,” she answered meekly, her voice wavering with a mix of fear and frustration.

“Don’t make this about me,” he said sharply. “I trusted you to keep that promise.” The life he lived, the life she had joined, was a dangerous one. And Kate wouldn’t be the first woman he lost to such violence. Born from a promise that he broke, costing the life of his family. If he had lost her and Jack in the same night, he feared what he would unleash upon himself.

“I’m sorry Arthur,” Kate breathed deeply, tears finally spilling over and streaming down her cheeks. There was an old selfish ache deep in her soul, a desperate need to make them suffer for taking someone from her. Her fear of loss drove her every thought, every action, every breath. It had consumed her, nearly losing herself during Arthur’s recovery. Kate had never known anything but grief and loss. Holding on so tightly to her sliver of happiness that she was smothering it. Her selfish need cost her Arthur’s trust. 

“Kate,” his voice was softer now, laced with deep sorrow. Arthur shook his head, “I can’t go through this again.” His eyes softened, though the hurt remained. 

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She felt a dark sense of dread, knowing that despite her intentions she had broken his trust and his heart. 

The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon them, a suffocating silence settling in. Arthur’s eyes, filled with a mix of anger and hurt, searched hers. The pain of his words, the pain of her actions, it all mingled together in a storm of emotions that neither of them could escape. A deeper love that remained unspoken.

Before she could find the words to make things right, Dutch’s voice boomed across the camp. “We’re not waiting another damn minute! Mount up, we’re riding out to get Jack back now!”

Arthur turned away, his expression unreadable. “I’m glad that you’re home safe. I wish I could say the same for Jack,” he said, walking over to mount his mare once more. The other boys were saddling up, the tension in the air thick with anticipation.

Kate stood in stunned silence, tears streaming down her face. The fear of losing Arthur, the guilt of breaking her promise, and the terror of what lay ahead gnawed at her. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness as she watched Arthur ride off into the night, leaving her standing there with her heart in pieces.

As she watched the men race down the winding path out of Clemens Point, she noticed Abigail's trembling form. Abigail was using her apron to wipe the tears that stained her cheeks. Kate swallowed her sorrow, pushing down her own broken heart. This was about Jack and Abigail.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

“I bet this has something to do with why you got shot to hell in town.” John’s voice broke Arthur from his clouding thoughts. The trees raced past them in a blur, and Arthur hadn’t even realized his brother was riding right beside him.

Arthur’s mind was a whirlwind of anxiety and turmoil. The events of the day had left him feeling raw and exposed. The setup in Rhodes, Kate’s actions, and now Jack’s abduction—all of it weighed heavily on him. The feeling gnawing at his insides.

“I don’t want to think about that right now, John,” he answered, trying to push the memory of Sean's lifeless body out of his mind. “We have to focus on Jack.”

John’s voice rose with anger, a mirror of Arthur's own inner turmoil. “I swear, I’ll kill every single one of them.” The desperation in his voice was palpable, and Arthur could sense the fear behind his brother's bravado.

Dutch’s voice called from the front of the line, a forced calmness trying to steady the group. “Easy, John. Try to stay calm. We’ll make them pay for this.”

“What about the plan, Dutch? Isn’t this family sitting on gold?” Bill’s voice cut through the night, his ulterior concerns evident.

Hosea answered, his tone grim and weary. “I hate to break it to you, but there is no gold. I’ve turned every stone. If they ever had any, it's gone.”

“For Christ’s sake, Hosea, after everything? Another perfect plan fed to the dogs,” John retorted, his voice laced with bitter frustration. Arthur felt the same anger bubbling up inside him—another one of Dutch’s schemes that had led them into danger and kept them on the run from the law.

“We underestimated them,” said Hosea, his voice heavy with regret and concern.

“No, they underestimated us!” Dutch roared, his voice echoing through the trees. “Enough talk. There’s no point arguing how we got here. This is where we are. And we are going to kill every one of those inbred trash.”

Arthur’s grip tightened on the reins, his knuckles white with tension. The thought of what lay ahead mixed with a fierce determination to bring Jack back safely. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat of anxiety and resolve. As they rode on, the night closed in around them, a shroud of darkness and danger. The only sounds were the thunder of hooves and the heavy breathing of their mounts. Arthur’s mind was a storm of emotions, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him.

The ride to Braithwaite Manor was filled with a tense silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Arthur’s mind kept drifting back to Kate. They were close now, and there was no turning back. Jack’s life was at risk. The stakes were higher than ever, and the weight of their mission rested heavily on his heart. There was no room for distraction or hesitation.

Dutch’s voice broke through the silence, a final order before the storm. “Nobody makes a move until I say so. Follow my lead.”

The tension in the air was electric as they approached the manor, each man ready for the fight of their lives. As they dismounted, Arthur’s thoughts turned briefly to Kate once more. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate couldn’t sleep. The lamp was down to the midnight oil in the small green canvas tent that the Marstons called home. She had stayed with Abigail while the men were out in search of Jack. She couldn’t tell how long they had been gone; her weary mind drifted in and out of consciousness. She tried to stay alert for their arrival, or for anyone else who might try to abduct another member of their gang.

Abigail slept beside her, her cheeks tinted pink from tears. She clutched Jack's nightgown tightly to her chest, inhaling the scent of her child, her whole world. Kate understood that feeling. She looked down at her hands, the dim light flickering across her fingers. Old blood was dried into the cracks of her nails. Images flashed before her eyes of the violence that had defined her day. She had unleashed herself on Colm’s men, disregarding her promise. And consequently, she had neglected the safety of those left behind at camp.

An acidic queasiness settled in her belly. It had felt good to kill those men. By some miracle, or perhaps coincidence, she had found Arthur’s captors amongst the men hiding at the ranch. The two men had recognized her, though she had no idea how. They had never met before. But like most cocky men, they boasted about Arthur’s torture and the pain they would inflict upon her. Little did they know who she was.

Keeping them alive as the last two men standing, Kate gave them the same courtesy they had given Arthur. She made sure they would never use their arms again, and strung them up by their ankles. Finally, she sliced open their bellies, their blood draining like pigs for the slaughter. Her friends watched in cautious silence. And when she was done, she mounted Lorena, and together they left the ranch without so much as another word.

It was justice, Kate tried to convince herself. But no, it was a deep selfishness. One that an old friend had stoked like flames to a fire. Perhaps it was in her nature, to lose lives and take them. All of the people Kate was, and tried to be, were always a part of her. The mother, the nurturer, the defender, and the killer.

She regretted her actions, but selfishly, she would do it all again. The thrill of revenge had brought her a temporary sense of control, a fleeting moment where she felt powerful in a world that constantly threatened to strip her of everything she held dear. But as she sat in the tent, the reality of her choices weighed heavily on her. She wasn’t sure if she could ever reconcile the different parts of herself—the woman who longed for peace and the one who couldn’t escape the violence that had shaped her life.

Exhaustion finally overcame her. The flickering light of the lamp faded as she drifted into a restless sleep, haunted by the faces of the men she had killed and the fear of what might come next.

When Kate awoke the next morning, the first light of dawn seeped through the tent’s seams. She reached out instinctively, but the space beside her was empty. Abigail was gone. Panic gripped her heart as she sat up quickly, straining to hear the muffled voices outside the tent.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur stood at the back of the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around the small wooden table where Dutch sat, the tension palpable in the air. Dutch was deep in thought, the weight of leadership pressing heavily on his shoulders as the gang awaited his orders. Abigail stood silently next to John, her face a mask of fury and desperation. Her tears had dried, replaced by a seething anger at the men she had trusted to protect her family, now arguing over their next move.

The Braithwaites didn’t have Jack. They had passed him off to a man named Angelo Bronte. Arthur’s mind raced with strategies for their next step. Bronte was supposedly in Saint Denis, the heart of the new modern America, where law was heavily enforced, and policemen patrolled every corner. They needed to be cautious. Any misstep could end with them at the end of a rope, and that wouldn’t help Jack at all.

As Arthur idly rubbed his wounded arm, the pain a constant reminder of his recent ordeal, he replayed the events of the night over and over in his mind. They had stormed the Braithwaite manor, killing everyone who stood in their way. But they had been too late. Dutch had shot Catherine Braithwaite without hesitation and ordered the house to be burned to the ground. An entire empire, a long-standing family, wiped out in an instant. 

He was lost in his thoughts when a gentle touch on his arm brought him back to the present. Turning around, he found himself face to face with Kate. The memory of her actions, the betrayal he felt, and the look in her eyes were too much to bear. He quickly averted his gaze.

“Arthur,” she began quietly, her voice trembling with worry. “Where is Jack? Is he—”

Arthur shook his head, cutting her off. “They didn’t have him,” he said curtly.

“W-what did you find?” she stuttered, her voice edged with panic.

He knew he was being cruel by withholding details, but the turmoil inside him made it difficult to be gentle. With a sigh, he turned to face her again. “They handed him off to some Bronte fellow. Jack is somewhere in Saint Denis.”

“I don’t understand, why would they do this? What do we do now?” she asked, her voice rising in desperation.

Arthur gestured towards the group of men who were still arguing heatedly. “They’re working on it,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Feeling incredibly defeated, Arthur’s thoughts were a blend of frustration and sorrow. He had thought things were getting better. After nearly dying from sepsis, he had started to find comfort and joy in Kate’s presence. But now, everything seemed to be falling apart. Sean’s death had barely been processed, overshadowed by Jack’s disappearance. His recent fight with Kate had left a gaping hole in his heart, the urge to mend things with her gnawing at him. But there was no time for feelings right now.

The gang was on the brink of a precipice, and Arthur knew they needed to act quickly and decisively. As much as he wanted to fix things with Kate, Jack’s safety had to come first. Pushing down his own emotions, he focused on the task at hand, knowing that every moment they delayed could bring them closer to disaster.

“It’s gonna work out, John,” Hosea’s voice joined the commotion, his tone reassuring. “Jack will be fine. Just listen to Dutch.”

Dutch’s voice cut through the din, authoritative and calm. “I don’t expect you to understand this, but I need your trust. Your word, now more than ever. No more running off behind my back. I know you were trying to do the right thing—”

“If I don’t get that boy back safe, I’m—” John shot a glance at Abigail, who stood trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “She’ll kill us all.”

“Looking at this logically, that boy is fine. They only took him to scare us. Nobody takes a child to harm him,” Dutch continued, his words meant to be comforting but failing to ease the tension.

“It’s true, John,” Hosea chimed in, placing a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. “Arthur, what do you think?”

Arthur sighed, shaking his head slightly. They were all trying to be strong for John, but deep down, they were just as scared. They’d seen what this world could do to children. The cruelties of their life were too real, too close. There was no guarantee Jack was safe.

“The boy will be fine,” Arthur lied, trying to steady his voice. “But of course, Marston’s scared rotten. We killed all those people, stirred up all that trouble…for nothing.”

Dutch scoffed from his seat. “No. No, not for nothing. For living. We get that boy back, and we go. It’s about time we leave this place. Trust me.”

Suddenly, Lenny’s voice boomed from the camp entrance. “Dutch! We’ve got a problem!” He shouted, rifles raised and pointing at two strangers who walked into camp with their hands held high.

Arthur’s mouth went dry. It was the Pinkertons. Agent Ross and Agent Milton.

“Not a problem, visitors. We come with a solution,” Milton said coldly, his demeanor relaxed and confident. His gaze found Arthur’s. “Ah, Mr. Morgan. Nice to see you again.”

Instinctively, Arthur stepped in front of Kate, shielding her from whatever was about to unfold. The other gang members began to surround the two agents, their suspicion evident. Dutch betrayed no hint of surprise, remaining seated comfortably.

“To what do we owe the pleasure, Agent Moron?” Dutch said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but this is a civilized land now. We didn’t kill all them savages only to allow the likes of you to act like human dignity was not yet invented,” Milton explained, his disdain palpable. “This thing? It’s done,” he spat.

Dutch finally rose from his seat, confronting the agent. “This land was never civilized. It’s consumed with man’s love for greed.”

“And that lets you take what you please? Kill whom you please and hang the rest of us? Who made you the messiah to these lost souls you’ve led astray?” Milton retorted coldly.

“I’m nothing but a seeker, Mr. Milton,” Dutch replied.

“You’re nothing but a bunch of killers. But I came here to make a deal; you come with me and I’ll give the rest of you three days to run off and disappear. I’m giving you one last chance to live like decent human beings.” Milton’s voice rose, addressing everyone in the gang.

A bitter chuckle rose from Dutch’s throat. “Ain’t that a fine thing? You risked death by coming into a den of murderers and thieves to have me. And to give them the chance to live and love?”

Kate remained quiet behind Arthur, her hand ready to draw her pistol at a moment's notice. But she sensed that this man, this detective, was telling the truth. Why would he risk so much for one man unless he was out of options?

“I don’t want to kill all these people, Dutch. Just you,” Milton answered, his resolve unwavering.

Dutch raised his hands, a hint of mockery in his voice. “In that case, I’d be happy to join you, Agent Milton.” As he stepped closer to the detective, everyone simultaneously began to draw their pistols.

Kate watched the moment unfold with genuine concern and admiration. These people, Arthur’s gang, were willing to risk everything for one man. Their loyalty and dedication ran deeper than she could ever imagine.

It was Ms. Grimshaw who leveled her shotgun and gave the final orders. “I think it’s time our new friends leave.”

Agent Milton raised his hands once more as Lenny and Javier began to escort them out of camp. “You’re making a big mistake, all of you!”

“The only mistake is how you keep following us. Good day, sir,” Dutch said, turning away, suddenly unbothered.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. And when I return, all of you will die. Run away from this place, you fools!” Milton’s tone carried a desperate warning. As he turned to leave, his gaze locked with Kate’s for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, trying to piece together her familiar face, but Javier’s gun pushed him along.

“How dreadful,” Dutch chuckled as he returned to his seat.

Arthur approached Dutch quickly, his steps heavy with the weight of the situation. “What now?”

“We get out of here. Have the women start packing. I’m sending you and the others to look for a new hideout. We’re running out of time,” Dutch said quietly, his urgency clear.

As Arthur turned to carry out Dutch’s orders, his eyes met Kate’s once more. The pain and fear were mirrored in their gazes. There was no time for reconciliation now. They had a mission to complete, and the stakes had never been higher.

“Arthur, maybe we should consider—” Kate began her voice quiet, searching for the right words to address their precarious situation.

Arthur spun on his heel so fast it made her dizzy. “Don’t. Don’t you even suggest it. You don’t have a say in this anymore, Kate.” His rage towards the Pinkertons and his anxiety about the lives at stake spilled out in hot bursts towards the woman he loved, and he couldn't stop the fire from spreading.

“Excuse me?” she responded, her voice a mix of offense and hurt. “I only want what's best for the gang.”

“The best thing to do now is leave. Go help the women pack,” he ordered, turning away from her.

“When does it end, Arthur? This cat-and-mouse game you have with seemingly every lawman in this country. How many more people have to be killed for it to stop?” Kate’s voice wavered with her fading strength. It was all too much to handle; everything was changing so fast. And now an innocent child was involved. She didn’t know what to do.

Arthur’s voice roared back, “I don’t know! Make up your goddamn mind, Kate. You go back on your word and put a target on your back. And now you want to lecture me on my poor choices? If you’re tired of running, you can leave. I won’t stop you.”

He left her with those words, his steps heavy and final. The men took off without a moment's hesitation, Ms. Grimshaw dishing out orders to begin loading the wagons. Kate felt a bitter moment of déjà vu, back to the day at the Downes ranch. She had scolded him for his actions, as if she were one to reprimand him. Kate had glimpsed the kind of man he truly was that day—the hardened outlaw, the merciless killer. She knew there was a kind heart inside him, and she had fallen in love with that part of him. Convinced herself that she could persuade him to leave it all behind, to give up that title for something softer. Arthur wanted it too, but only now was she beginning to understand the giant inside him. The man who had never known peace, who spent every moment fighting for his life and the lives of his family.

Arthur was consumed by his loyalty, as Kate was consumed by her grief. The realization hit her hard, and she felt a deep, gnawing sorrow. She watched him mount his horse, his back tense with determination and anger. The bitter truth settled over her like a shroud��no matter how much they loved each other, the world they lived in was tearing them apart.

A/N: I hope this chapter was alright! To be honest I went back and forth over this conflict for a while, and I think that’s where the birth of my writers block began. I wasn’t intending for their fight to become so heated, but then i was like “you know what? Their situation is a crock of shit, it can’t all be sunshine and rainbows.”

(Also trying to squeeze this in while simultaneously returning to a major plot point of the game was really hard haha)

So yeah, i may have gotten a bit carried away. But fear not, my summary for this chapter was incredibly dramatic. They’re not breaking up! They just got to figure themselves out, and come to understand one another. I want to make it clear that Kate has just as many flaws as Arthur, and that she suffers in silence too. God these two really need each other 😭

I think this was my first time writing some serious angst that didn’t involve one of them nearly dying (lol). So let me know how I did! It’s been awhile since I updated this story, and sometimes things can get lost to the tricks of time. If you notice any inconsistencies or plot holes please don’t be shy to point them out to me! 🙏❤️

[hyunjinspark]

I'm going to go out on a [maybe slightly unpopular?] limb here and say, i think Hyunjin hasn't been unjust in pushing yn away and I think yn has been a little too into self loathing to see it. She seems to have this very strong belief that Hyunjin doesn't want her. But she was the one that told Hyunjin that Felix confessed his love to her and then he figured out that they kissed. She wouldn't explain why that kiss happened nor explain that she's actually in love with Hyunjin and has been since long before she even knew who he was (and I STILL want to know if he remembers her from that first time at Aera's grand opening). So as best as he can tell, another guy that has known her her whole life loves her and they kissed. His immediate reaction to that was basically going silent, and then the gradual distancing leading to complete cutting off, which feels like a deeply hurt Hyunjin thing to do. Pair that with how Chan and Kairi's relationship fell out around the same time, a relationship he seems to really respect and perhaps wants to emulate, I think it makes total sense that he shut down and closed off. Yn also hasn't exactly been reconciliatory to him (which I also think she is 100% justified in feeling, btw) but honestly, I don't think she can expect him to know that she is both completely in love him and was completely devastated by him cutting off contact when she has expressed neither of these things in words aloud, other than a few passive aggressive statements and being mad and not wanting to be around or speak to him. AND NOW she has kissed yet another man in front of him that Hyunjin also saw her hugging, like- girl, use your words and reflect yourself in your actions! I love yn, truly. I just really want her to see how her words and actions affect Hyunjin in the same way she has allowed his words and actions to affect her. When the tags for ch 17 included Hyunjin being mean [with emphasis], I was really worried what would happen between them. But then I feel like what I really saw was a lot of pain and confusion and coping mechanisms coming from him, like getting frustrated. He has admitted being insanely attracted to yn, but I think he is also obviously completely in love with her too. A lot of his actions feel very typical of a man realizing that for the first time, and not knowing how to handle it, not knowing if he's ready for it, if he can make it work in his relatively complicated life. So he's protecting himself and doing what he thinks protects her too, even if it it hurts them both, because that makes sense in his own dumb-man-in-love logic. Anyway, sorry for my long, rambling mess and for maybe making a bunch of wrong conclusions from your intent. But thank you so much for writing this insanely engaging fic! Best of luck heading back to uni <3

oh wow i actually love this, and the time you took into writing it. i have to agree with the intent you pointed out of both hyun and yn. yn definitely hasn’t been clear about the extent of her feelings for him, and even if it does feel obvious through their conversations neither of them have ever explicitly said that. honestly idk what to say because you’ve summed their actions and emotions up really well. i love that you went in depth to it and analysed it so objectively.

thank you for reading and for making me so excited about sharing this lovestory with you all. :)

[o0-iris-0o]

Luminous | Xiao x [F] Reader

Description: After months of isolation and endless work, your friend insists on taking you out for a night of music and escape. But a stranger at the bar has an offer that might take your life in an unexpected direction.

Warnings: Dark Themes | NSFW | 18+

Chapter: 9/29

V AO3 Tags Below V

Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Major Character Death | Dead Dove: Do Not Eat | Dark Fiction | Horror Themes | Depression | Anxiety | Angst | Emotional | Crying | Involuntary Medical Procedures | Blood | Needles | Injections | Vomiting | Captivity | Yandere Themes | Physical Altercations | Drugs | Drug Use | Alcohol | Intoxication | Gangs | Guns | Combat | Action | Romance | Enemies to Lovers | Cuddling and Snuggling | Fluff | Smut | Plot with Porn | Vaginal Fingering | Vaginal Sex | Oral Sex | Cunnilingus | Blow Jobs | Sex on Drugs | Bloodplay | Knifeplay | Hair Pulling | Rough Sex | Gentle Sex | Dom Xiao | Alatus (Genshin Impact) | Aftercare | Reader-Insert | Reader is Not Traveler | POV First person | Alternate Universe - Future | Diluc Cameo

< CH. 8 | CH. 10 >

Chapter 9

Wrapped in the warmth of my blanket, I lie sprawled across the plush couch, basking in the golden glow of sunlight streaming into the room. The brightness forces my eyes open with a squint, blinding me momentarily. I yawn, gradually sitting upright and rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. The only sound heard is the soft hum of the ventilation. 

My gaze drifts to the cityscape framed by the panoramic glass windows. The sun, poised to dip below the skyline, casts harsh beams in my direction. Shielding my eyes with an arm, I wonder, did I really manage to sleep the entire day? 

With a leisurely stretch, I rise from the couch and drag my feet to the bathroom to start what’s left of the day. After freshening up, the rumbling of my stomach guides me to the kitchen next, where I indulge myself in some snacks. 

Between bites of my breakfast, curiosity stirs within me. With nothing to occupy my time, I wander aimlessly around the suite, peeking behind closed doors, poking at decorative objects, and eventually circling back around to the wall of glass.

There’s absolutely nothing to do around here… If only I had my phone; I could at least keep myself entertained.

My focus shifts to the small, glistening waves across the pool’s surface, drawing me towards the terrace door. I reach for the metal handle, lean into it, and to my surprise, the door cracks open, astonishment crossing my face. Sticking my head out, I examine the obscured corners of the terrace, finding it empty. With limited options, I decide to step outside. 

Balmy air envelops me, warming my chilled skin as I make my way to one of the lounge chairs by the pool. Enjoying the last moments of sun seems like a good idea; it’ll give me a chance to get some fresh air. 

Settling onto the chair, I fix myself into a comfortable position. As my thoughts begin to wander, the reason for my prolonged sleep becomes clear—yesterday was a terrible day. How could I forget such an awful event? Honestly, I’m surprised I didn’t have any nightmares last night. Although, there’s a faint sense that my dream was more pleasant. Unfortunately, the details escape me.

My thoughts continue to drift, and worry creeps in as Yanfei’s image surfaces. The last memory I have of her is lying unconscious throughout the ride home, with a strange black mist emanating from her wounds. I’d never seen anything like it, and I’m not sure if anyone else in the car knew what was happening. 

A flood of questions fills my mind—where were we, why did we go there, who were those people, why are they important? I doubt I’ll get any straightforward answers; after all, it’s not like Xiao goes out of his way to explain things—

Then, my mind goes blank. The thought of Xiao triggering an involuntary reaction; my hand quickly snatches my shirt collar, pulling it over part of my face. 

Oh, god damnit... That wasn’t a dream at all, was it? What was he thinking? No, what was I thinking?! Leave it to me to complicate things further… At least he isn’t here right now; I have a bit more time to figure out what to say. 

"Sorry I was gone for so long. I was with Yanfei." A sudden voice shatters the silence, and I nearly jump out of my chair. 

Turning, I find Xiao stepping onto the terrace. Catching his unsettled expression, I quickly compose myself before he notices my startled demeanor. “How is she?” I ask without missing a beat.

He lets out a deep breath. “She’s not looking her best, but she’s alive. She’ll be under Ganyu’s care for the rest of the night.” 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that she’s still with us. I’m sure you and Ganyu are more than capable of helping her recover,” I say. But he only stares vacantly at the floor tiles, seemingly lost in thought. Did he even hear what I said? 

Silence descends, and I search frantically for something to say. Just as I’m about to speak, Xiao’s attention snaps back, and he starts to make his way over to me. Stopping a few paces away, he pulls something from his sweater pocket and extends his hand. “Do you want it?” he asks.

Staring at the object, my mind struggles to place it until the signs of wear and distinctive case jog my memory. It’s my phone. Skeptically, I reach out to take it, half-expecting him to retract the offer, but he hands it over, and its familiar weight falls into my grasp. 

“Don’t make me regret this. If I find out you’re causing trouble, know that I will discipline you,” he says, a stern glare in his eyes. 

Sulking my head, I avoid his gaze, mumbling, “Yeah, okay, I get it…” 

“Anyway… Come with me; there’s something I want to show you,” he adds, stepping aside, allowing me space to stand. 

With rising curiosity, I pop out of my seat and trail behind him into the suite, wondering what he could possibly want to show me. He leads me back to the lab, and I’m once again struck by how dark the room is. It hardly seems like a good space to work in. 

Following closely behind, I take careful steps as he guides me through the cluttered tables, making sure not to stumble or collide with anything that may be hazardous. 

Standing before one of the chaotic tables strewn with papers, strange equipment, and an assortment of containers, Xiao surveys the mess, then sighs before explaining. “The serum hasn’t had a significant impact on Yanfei’s condition, but it’s not entirely ineffective. We just need to administer frequent doses, and I’m confident she’ll eventually recover.”

His attention shifts to a certain container amidst the clutter, and he retrieves it before continuing. “I’m not entirely certain what this substance is—some abyssal… bullshit. It’s vital that we thoroughly clean Yanfei’s wounds. Neglecting to do so will result in the reformation of this substance over the affected area. Based on that, I suspect it has regenerative properties and interferes with the serum.” He holds the container up for me to see, showing a weird, inky, viscous substance inside.

“Clearly, something like this requires further investigation. However, I doubt there’s much information on it, if any.” Suddenly, the container crashes against the table, startling me with its loud clatter. “And Shenhe still refuses to speak with me… How absurd,” he mutters, frustration evident in his tone. With another sigh, he drops his face into his hand. “I seriously need a damn break.”

Tense stillness fills the room as Xiao remains motionless, attempting to regain his composure. I wait quietly for him to continue. Eventually, he lowers his hand, and his voice carries through the space. “While I was tending to Yanfei, I took the spare time to put this together.” Carefully, he slides a small glass tray from the table, holding it up for me to see. 

Resting on the surface are two tiny, square tabs inked with a distinctive color pattern, taking on the design of a swirl. Under the dimness of the lights, they seem to emit their own faint glow. “Take one with me,” Xiao requests bluntly, prompting my gaze to flick up from the tray, meeting him questioningly. 

“You really like to leave out the important details, don’t you? You haven’t even told me what these are,” I respond, eyeing him. 

He rolls his eyes. “It’s just a stronger dose of Lucid, with a little something extra. Far too potent for a regular person, but for us, it’ll be fine… Trust me, I’m actually trying to have a bit of fun with you.”

My eyes return to the small tray, hesitating. I dread the idea of something going wrong; I can never be too sure with these things. But if it's just Lucid, it should be fine, right? I guess it wouldn’t hurt, given the stress we’ve been under. “Fine… I’ll take it.”

Xiao smirks faintly, plucks one of the tabs off the tray, and holds it out in front of me. “Don’t swallow it. Just let it sit in your mouth, for now.”

Tentatively, I take it from him, placing it against my tongue. I’m not sure what I expected it to taste like, but it mostly just feels like a piece of paper. Taking his own, Xiao grabs his phone, displaying a timer for me to see. With a tinge of uncertainty, I remind myself that Xiao wouldn't intentionally hurt me—at least, I’m trying to convince myself of that.

As I’m lost in thought, Xiao steps closer, his hand grazing mine before his finger hooks beneath my chin, gently tilting my gaze to meet his. “Now, why don’t we head upstairs, relax a little in bed, and finally spend some time together, hm?” he suggests, his voice soft yet insistent. 

His request leaves me momentarily speechless, struggling to find a response as my mind quickly becomes overwhelmed by the heat flooding my cheeks. Without thinking, I shift away from his touch, lowering my head in embarrassment. 

“Oh come on,” Xiao pries, “Don’t get shy on me now—wasn’t it you who had your tongue down my—”

Instantly, my hands shoot up, covering his mouth. “Yeah, and if you remember, I was there! So, could you please stop describing it like that?” I blurt out, the words tumbling out. Nervously, I lower my hands, hoping he won’t make things worse for me. 

“Alright, fine. Just come with me,” he concedes, reclaiming my hand and tugging me behind him, leading me out of the lab. Once we step back into the living area, I’m taken aback by how quickly the sun has set, the suite now steeped in darkness. Even more unexpected is the rain pelting the windows. 

Suddenly, a bright flash lights up the room, sending an eerie unease washing over me as I stop in my tracks. The patter of rain is drowned out by the heavy rumble of thunder, causing the floor to tremble beneath my feet.  

In the dimness, I watch as Xiao brings his phone to his attention, tapping it before the lights flicker to life, albeit dimmer than usual. He glances in my direction then resumes his pull, guiding me along beside him. “Scared of a little thunder?”

“We’re just so high up in this building; it’s making me a little nervous, is all,” I clarify as we head toward the stairs.

“I wouldn’t expect an adeptus such as yourself to develop such irrational fears,” he remarks. 

Glaring in his direction, I counter, “Oh please… I’m sure even the ‘Great Adeptus Xiao’ has his own irrational fears,” which elicits a chuckle from him. 

“I’m only teasing you. Don’t get so upset.” Reaching the top of the staircase, we approach the center door along the balcony. 

“I’m not upset,” I protest, though his comment leaves me a bit annoyed.

Opening the door, Xiao gestures for me to enter first, so I step inside. Immediately, I’m struck by the room’s size; it’s nearly the same as Ganyu’s studio, yet it’s only a bedroom. Despite its size, it’s sparsely furnished—a bed occupies one side, positioned beside yet another expansive wall of windows. 

On the opposite side, a sleek dresser stands beside a cluster of cardboard boxes; aside from that, the space is bare. “Is this your room?” I ask, taking in the minimalist surroundings. 

“Yeah, but as you can probably tell, I don’t spend much time here. I mostly use it to store my clothes. You’re welcome to sleep here if you like; your stuff's already here anyway,” he says, gesturing to the boxes in the corner.

Intrigued, I walk over and lift the lid on one box to find my own clothes neatly folded and packed to the top. “You sure? You really wouldn’t mind?” I ask, turning to see Xiao seated on the bed, pulling his sweater over his head.

“Like I said, I hardly use this room. You can do whatever you want with it. But don’t feel obligated—I can arrange a separate room for you if you’d prefer,” he offers. 

If I get my own room, it’ll be one of the regular inn rooms, right? My gaze shifts briefly to the windows. Even with the rain, the cityscape view from up here is breathtaking; it never seems to get old. The thought of falling asleep every night in such luxury feels almost unreal. “In that case, I’d be happy to take you up on your offer.” 

Xiao gives me a small smile. “Then it’s all yours.”

As I reach to close the box, a chill runs up my back, causing me to shiver. “Is it cold in here… or is it some weird effect?” 

“Don’t worry; there shouldn’t be any adverse effects. You’re just cold,” Xiao reassures me, gesturing for me to join him. 

Accepting his invitation, I navigate around to the empty side of the bed. As I settle onto the soft mattress, Xiao’s hands soon find their way around my waist, pulling me snugly against him. 

Wrapped in his warmth, I can’t help but to lean into his embrace, grabbing hold of the blanket draped across the bed to pull it around me, seeking to soak up as much heat as possible. 

I must admit, I didn’t see this coming. The idea of Xiao showing any affection—especially toward me—seemed outlandish. Yet over the past few days, he’s only grown more affectionate. I’m not complaining; it’s just something I’ll need to get used to, especially with the lingering apprehension I’m trying to shake. 

As I drift in my thoughts, the rain’s rhythmic sound lulls me, my eyelids growing heavier by the moment. Eventually, I give in, letting them close. But before long, Xiao’s voice draws me back. “Some say unusual weather patterns suggest the presence of powerful elemental beings,” he muses, his gaze fixed beyond the windows. “The severity might even indicate the proximity.” 

Staring at the flashing lights within the clouds, Xiao’s words unsettle me. Just as he finishes, an unexpected crack of lightning splits the dark sky, causing me to jump.

“Ugh, would you quit trying to scare me?!” I complain, sinking beneath the sheets. 

Xiao chuckles. “Did I scare you? That wasn’t my intention; just an observation,” he clarifies, leaning forward to peer at me. “Look at you, you’re so frightened. It’s almost amusing,” he teases, mocking me with his gaze.

Annoyed, I glare back before hearing a muffled ring beneath the sheets. Xiao reaches under, retrieves his phone, then silences it, and I remember why he set the time in the first place.

Removing the tab from my mouth, I examine it, noticing the vibrant colors have faded, revealing the white color beneath. Xiao takes it from me, setting it on the nightstand while I take a look around the room. 

Nothing appears to have changed yet, so I guess it’ll still take some time. As I’m scanning over the space, I turn back to Xiao, who has his hand pressed to his face, and concern quickly overtakes me. “Are you alright?”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he says before pulling me back to him. “But you should probably put your head down.” He advises, guiding my head to rest against his chest. Taking his warning, I close my eyes. Soon, a familiar rising sensation rushes through me, sending my heart racing. 

My hands grow shaky, and my mind becomes cluttered with thoughts, none of which I can hold onto as dizziness overwhelms me, even with my eyes shut. Immersed in overstimulation, one feeling surfaces about the rest—anger. For a fleeting moment, I want nothing more than to yell at Xiao for not telling me this would happen, but the thought fades, replaced by my anticipation for this sensation to end.

Sinking into the overwhelming flood, I feel something graze my back. “Just keep your eyes closed. You’re going to be okay. You’re just feeling panicked,” Xiao consoles me, rubbing gentle circles against my back. “Just focus on me.”

Adjusting his posture, I feel his body shift, and urgently, I wrap my arms tightly around him, seeking comfort. For what feels like an eternity, I sit frozen in the same position, unmoved in a state of panic. Attempting to redirect my attention, I always find it elsewhere, focusing on the dread. However, each redirection becomes easier as I bring it back to the soft circles against my skin, and before long, I’ve already caught a sense of relief. 

Cautiously, I open my eyes, and to my pleasant surprise, I’m not overwhelmed by dizziness. Though my vision is heavily blurred, the lights and reflections in the room cast vibrant flares, but it’s manageable. Xiao’s hands rest on my shoulders, and he gently moves me back.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks, studying me closely.  

“I think I’m alright now,” I reply, though my attention is caught by the shifting patterns appearing in my vision. They vanish periodically before reappearing in a different array of shapes and colors, fascinating my senses.

“You’re very easily distracted, you know that?” Xiao remarks, guiding me back. 

“Well… why don’t you do something interesting for me then? Maybe I'll be distracted by that,” I respond, grabbing the first thought that comes to mind before it slips away.

With a teasing tone, he inches closer. “Hm, not so shy anymore, are we?” His hand trails down my waist. “How about we do something interesting together?” he adds. “In fact, I can keep you distracted all night, but I’m not entirely sure you’ll be able to handle that. Would you?” 

Hearing his words, my heart skips a beat. Nervously, I adjust my legs, restlessness seeping into me. “I—I can handle anything…” I stammer, briefly losing track of my sentence. 

“You sure?” he challenges, his free hand caressing my cheek with a soft touch. His thumb delicately traces my jawline as he drags his hand back, tangling it in my hair before a sharp pain forces a yelp from my throat. Tears form at the corners of my eyes as Xiao’s grip tightens on my hair, tugging me back. “I find that hard to believe—look at you; you can barely even handle an ounce of pain.”

Grabbing his arm, I try to pry his hand away, but his hold only tightens. I’m in no position to put up a fight in my current state. But still, I lean backward, attempting to use my legs to push him away, but my movements only disorient me. Before I know it, I crash back against the bed, Xiao pinning my arms and legs. With a free hand, he reaches behind himself, and my eyes widen when he produces a knife, pointing it directly at me. 

“Listen to me very closely, since I know you’re not entirely here right now. Don’t move.” His voice, a mix of command and intrigue, fills the room as he inspects the knife in his hand. “This blade is incredibly sharp. As much as you may get on my nerves sometimes, I definitely don’t want you ending up dead.” With the tip of the knife, he nudges the hem of my shirt aside. It grazes my skin, and light tremors fan outward from the blade's point.  

Summoning the strength to protest, I’m only able to shift slightly before Xiao jolts my wrists harshly. “Stop,” he scolds, his glare piercing into my dazed stare. “There’s an effect your body should be experiencing that I’m curious about.” 

Tracking his movements, I watch as he hovers the knife down my figure, he presses it to my exposed skin with precision. Applying just enough pressure, Xiao guides the blade along the curve of my abdomen. Its cutting edge splits my skin open with ease, and beneath the searing sting lies an odd mix of rushing stimulation and unsettling pleasure, a sensation I couldn’t have anticipated. When he retracts the blade, the pain softens, leaving cherry-red streaks to cascade across my waist.

Remaining fixed, Xiao watches as the dark fluid stains the fabric of the bedsheets. “The sight of blood… it disgusted me the first time I had to endure it. But if you spend enough time in the darkness, even such sickening things can become… comforting,” he remarks, detachment in his gaze. 

“So beautiful, the way it drips across your skin, especially when you act so… uncharacteristically.” His voice lingers in the air as he raises the knife once more, its stained, gleaming blade poised inches from my face. “However, I’m not doing this to punish you. We can learn to get along, right? Now, will you finally be a good girl for me? Stick your tongue out.” 

Through the fog that is my mind, a thought of defiance flickers briefly but quickly dies out. Without much contemplation, driven more by an aversion of finding out the consequences rather than coherent thought, I comply, reluctantly parting my lips. 

The blade descends, slicing through the numbness, and tears well up in my eyes. Then, there it is again—that strange sensation that makes this all somehow bearable. My tongue curls against the blade, my mouth closes, and the metallic taste of blood smears against my taste buds.

Releasing his hold on my wrists, Xiao sits back on top of me, muttering, “And just to even things out…” This time, he raises the knife to himself, and with one quick swipe, my eyes widen in horror as an alarming gush of blood spills from his mouth, pouring down and splattering across me. At first, disbelief clouds my mind, and I question whether I’m seeing some horrible hallucination, but the scarlet stream persists, staining everything in its path. 

“Xiao! What the hell?!” The shaky words tumble out as I scramble upright. The room spins in a muddled blur before my gaze steadies on the large red splotches blotting my midriff.

The knife in Xiao’s hand falls to the bed with a dull thud, and he closes the distance between us, looming just inches from my face. “Would you quit worrying so damn much?” he whispers, his tone carrying an almost mocking reassurance, before sealing his blood-stained lips against mine. 

Our kiss, far from tender, becomes an overbearing exploration as he slips his drenched tongue into my mouth. Pushed back against the bed, a sickening cocktail of fluids pools at the entrance of my throat, sparking a fleeting moment of panic before the substance finds its own escape, leaking through the corners of my mouth. I dismiss the wet discomfort that remains as Xiao’s hand slips against my body, stripping my lower half of my clothes.

His grip squeezes at my frame, the tips of his fingers drawing a path through the film of blood across my abdomen, trailing down the length of my body. It’s not long before his hand finds its way between my thighs, and with delicately traced circles, my loathing gradually turns into lust. 

Separating from our kiss, Xiao pulls back slightly, an obvious smirk tugging at his stained lips as he stares down at me. Suddenly, my breath catches in my throat, an involuntary reaction to his two sinking fingers. He hooks them inside, earning a choked moan from me that I silence with a hand over my mouth. But Xiao intervenes, snagging my wrist and snatching it away from my face. His motions from there are laced with a purposeful intensity—twisting and extending in such a way that forces the sounds out of me. 

Trying to escape the intensity, I push away, but the weight of Xiao’s upper body collapses against me, and I find myself trapped in his embrace as he buries his face into the crook of my neck. Soft tremors form in my legs, and every gasp for air is filled with the sharp scent of copper, until I’m barely conscious of my own fading awareness. It’s only when I hear Xiao beside my ear am I brought back, “Fuck… I’ve missed you so damn much…”

My eyes heavy, flutter open as he lifts himself away, but there’s hardly a second before I’m haphazardly tossed onto my side. My arms shake as I catch myself against the mattress, only to slip against the silky surface moments later as Xiao snags my thigh, dragging me back. With a firm grasp, my hips are tugged into the air, a hand now coiling around my neck from behind as his body presses down into my back. 

Fixing a hand beneath my jaw, my head is propped upright with a harsh nudge. In a single breath, his hips snap into mine, his length sinking in in one quick thrust that jolts me forward, but his solid grip manages to hold me in place. I squeeze my eyes shut upon the unpleasant entry. However, the pain subsides quickly with each following thrust, the wet slick building in the process. 

Steadily, my muscles relax, and soon I’m able to bend to his will, my back arching sharply as I lose sense of my legs in the numbness. The sheets ball within my fists, and my gasps for air are echoed by Xiao’s labored breathing beside my ear, growing heavier by the second. His cheek brushes against mine and his lips graze my neck, biting down into my skin. 

A shudder runs across my body and my eyes flicker open, catching hazy glimpses of our figures in the reflection as Xiao’s nimble grasp keeps my chin held upright. The windows act as if they’re mirrors under the dim lights, and with each reflected thrust into my hips, heat pools within me, and I begin to lose what little composure I have left. 

Chasing the high, I push back against his thrusts, eliciting Xiao to pick up his pace. His hold tightens along my throat, forcing his cock deeper with every plunge, and soon I find it difficult to suppress. Between the mirrored show and his rapid movements, my peak floods me quicker than I desired. My cries fill the room briefly, followed by my softer breaths for air. Xiao’s clasp around my neck loosens, and I slump against the bed, now drained. I hardly have a moment to enjoy the tranquility before something snatches my wrist, dragging me upright. 

Hoisted onto my knees, Xiao grabs the hem of my now blood-stained shirt. Tugging the fabric over my head, he quickly disposes of the shirt onto the floor. Then, redirecting his attention, he frames my cheeks between his index finger and thumb. “I think this pretty mouth of yours might be better fitted for something other than screaming at me.” 

My eyes narrow. “Seriously… you can’t even give me a minute…”

“I didn’t mean by complaining either,” he mutters, placing his hand on top of my head. “Be good for me, and maybe I’ll reward you for your cooperation.” 

Hearing his words, my glare transforms into a pout.

“Don’t give me that look,” he sighs, then falls back into the pile of pillows scattered along the headboard. “The faster you get this over with, the faster you’ll get your reward,” he says, grabbing hold of my hands and pulling me over his lap. “Come on…” 

My pout persists as warmth floods my cheeks. Sitting back on his lap, I look around, my eyes catching sight of the ruffled throw blanket hanging off the edge of the bed. Leaning back, I snatch it in my hand, flinging it around so it drapes across Xiao’s face. 

“Don’t look!” I demand, hesitantly grabbing hold of his already exposed length. I know there’s nothing stopping him from simply removing the blanket, but I hope he has the decency to look away, at the very least…

I try not to linger on the thought for too long before my lips descend, parting against his slick tip. With a flinch, I jolt back, feeling the sting that reminds me of the open wound adorning my tongue. However, Xiao’s hand catches the back of my head, and I’m shoved back down, his shaft filling every inch of my mouth.

My tongue throbs, and my watery eyes cut up to Xiao who, of course, is already glaring down at me. “I’m just doing you a favor. Now, hurry up,” he urges. 

Resentfully, I carry on, my lips gliding against his wet length as my dominant hand copies the motion. He really knows how to get on my nerves, doesn’t he? I can’t believe I’m doing this for him, how ridiculous…

Sooner than later, my saliva drips down, getting caught in my hand’s motion as I lay my tongue flat against him, the pain subsiding. His grip tugs at my hair, though more sensual than what I’m accustomed to, and I begin to think, maybe it isn’t so bad. 

His panting and soft noises gradually reach my ears from above, and I indulge in them. He rolls his hips, keeping pace with me, and I allow it, letting him savor his own high. It isn’t so bad, especially when I so clearly have control over him for once. Licking a hot stripe along his length, my tongue swirls against his tip before a sugary taste coats my senses. Strange as it may be, it’s far from unpleasant, and it smears against my fractured taste buds, briefly overtaking the lingering metallic flavor. 

Again, my mouth clasps against his girth, searching for more to wash away the other loathsome bodily tastes. At first, I only intended to put in minimal effort, but now, I catch myself drooling purposefully, sucking against his thickness, and working him as deep as I can. I do obtain what I’m searching for, the sweet taste intermittently washing over me, that is until the warm fluid spills into my mouth.

It gushes, and I try to retract, but Xiao’s hand shoves me down again. A complaint in the form of a muffled whine escapes me, as the substance floods my hollow cheeks. Some drips from my mouth, and the rest is forced down my throat as his grip refuses to let go. Pushing against his strength, he finally releases me, and I pop upright, gasping for breath. 

“You idiot…” I comment, rubbing the wetness from my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Oh please,” he replies, leaning inches from my face. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” 

“It’s not like I’m going to tell you either way...” 

Smiling at me, he says, “Hm, you don’t have to. You’re easy enough to read as it is.” 

Just as I open my mouth to respond, Xiao’s lips lock with mine. A firm grip grasps at my shoulder and I’m pushed over. His teeth sink into my lip as he follows, delicate kisses then trailing down to my neck, across my chest and down my stomach. Suddenly, his arms hook beneath knees and my gaze falls to Xiao as he ghosts his lips along my thigh. “As much as I’d like to give you your little present now, I’m still not quite done with you.” 

Punctuating his sentence, my back slips against the sheets, and he tugs me off the bed. The quick motion swirls my vision, and my head spins as he fixes me upright and onto my feet. I try to collect myself, yet as soon as he gets the opportunity, his hand presses against my back, pushing me forward where I stumble into the windows a short ways away. 

The cold surface is like ice against my heated skin, then my back as I’m flipped around, Xiao’s lips finding mine with haste. His hand grasps beneath the underside of my knee, heaving it up to his waist, allowing space for him to prod at my entrance before pushing his way in, and a single gasp breaks our kiss momentarily. With every desperate thrust, my hips begin to hit the glass behind, the frantic rhythm causing my arms to wind behind his neck, nails digging into his shoulders. 

Soon, I’m hardly able to catch my breath. I search for air, though each attempt is met with failure as Xiao’s lips continuously find their way back to mine, disallowing me a second to break away. 

He drags a hand from my waist, planting his arm against the glass as he yanks at my leg, slamming me into every thrust. Periodically, the floor beneath my single foot disappears, Xiao’s upper body pinning me to the window while muffled cries and moans fill the room.

His forceful approach works to his benefit—this time; each pump fueling the lustful burn as he rapidly slips in and out, showing no signs of letting up. Any semblance of pacing is lost as he frantically drives his cock as deep as it’ll go. It catches slick, slips against my tightening walls, then slams its way back in, over and over, and my mind draws to a blank. I simply cling to his body, offering no resistance, yet unable to contribute. I simply allow him to do as he pleases, use me to his pleasure, as the violent rocking shakes my delirious mind.

I don’t blame him, though. The sensation is unmatched; the fullness, the dripping wetness, the pulsating, every warm inch is intoxicating as the room spins by. Each passing second takes me closer to my second release as his hips stutter into mine. My muscles spasm, then contract, and he spills into me, his shaft throbbing against my walls and air finally pools within my lungs.

“Damn… you feel so good…” he sighs, slipping himself out, uncorking the gush of hot fluids that drips down my legs. Leaning against the glass, my mind has never felt clearer. I close my eyes briefly, still catching my breath, when Xiao shifts. My elevated leg remains fixed in the air, though it finds new support and my gaze snaps downward. 

“W-wait—” I start, but the sensitivity catches my words in my throat as the plush surface of his tongue parts me open once again. My back slips against the moist glass as he tugs me forward, my leg trembling under my weight, unable to support myself as I begin to worry if I’ll topple over. Squeezing my eyes shut, the overstimulation spikes as he laps at my entrance, adding to the wet slick already dripping. 

Each stroke deepens my sighs, and my fingers tangle within his soft locks of hair as I melt into him. I quiver and shake, as he takes me to a new edge I didn’t think I had. His tongue buries within before he licks a stripe across my slit, down to my clit, repeating the motion until even more warm slick runs down his chin. His tongue then skims away, and I collapse, skidding against the window as I fall to the floor. Xiao’s embrace softens my plummet and I stare at him, a clear daze still in my eyes while he wears his mischievous smile.

“You're done already, weren’t we supposed to go all night?” he asks in a hushed tone, “I thought you said you could handle anything…” 

“I can…” I pant. 

“Are you sure—” he questions, leaning into me. “I won’t ask again.” 

With a huff, I nod my head. 

~

Glistening golden rays seep through the tiny bathroom window as thick steam fills the air. Hot droplets of water patter against my bare skin, partially waking me up, though the heaviness still hangs over me. My thousand-yard stare fixes on the patterns still fading in and out of my vision as Xiao stands before me, wiping the bloodstains from my body. 

I flinch as he grazes the cut across my abdomen with the washcloth, pulling me back into the moment. I hear him say, “Don’t worry, the effects should wear off in about six hours or so. By the time you wake up, you’ll be back to normal.” 

“Noted,” I reply dully, mostly due to my lack of energy; I can’t even think about carrying on a conversation right now. 

The cloth continuously wipes at my skin, and I sigh softly, thinking about the soft bed waiting for me. Suddenly, I’m pulled between two arms, nearly slipping against the tub’s moist surface before I’m wrapped in a wet embrace. My skin sticks against Xiao’s, and my heart skips a beat. “W-what—Are you okay?” I ask quickly, my mind defaulting to assuming something’s wrong. 

His hold tightens around me before he pulls away. “Huh? I’m fine. What? I can’t hug you—even after everything?”

“Hu—oh… You know that’s not what I meant.” I snap softly, pouting.

“Yeah, yeah.” he responds, his arms falling away from me as he spins me around. “Now hurry up and rinse yourself off.” 

< CH. 8 | CH. 10 >

[my-favorite-aesthetics]

Chapters: 2/8 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Inko & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Inko & Midoriya Izuku, Tsukauchi Naomasa & Yagi Toshinori | All Might Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Midoriya Inko, Tsukauchi Naomasa Additional Tags: Dad Might, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, VERY BAD. In my defense this is my first time posting., All Might is a terrifying powerhouse and loves his son more than anything in the world, These two things come together in a sucky situation and cause a Problem, AHA THERE'S A TAG I NEED, Protective Yagi Toshinori | All Might, nobody dies don't worry, He didn't go That far, THIS IS MOSTLY FLUFF AND EMOTIONAL ANGST I SWEAR, Hurt Midoriya Izuku, One for All has noncanon capabilities, mostly a healing factor, Baby heals fast. Baby wakes up wanting chicken nuggets, Baby also worries about his dad, to a pretty good extent, y'know what?, Protective Midoriya Izuku, Tsukauchi Naomasa Is A Good Friend, Good Parent Midoriya Inko, I know I already said Dad Might but. SO MUCH DAD MIGHT, These two dorks are open with their emotions, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary:

A fic written with @the19thduckpotato on Tumblr (she also has it posted there on her blog!) From @the19thduckpotato: "This is a LONG fic. But a completed one. And one that has personal headcanons between @my-favorite-aesthetics and myself. (Also, I’m sure I fudged hospital stuffs). Have fun, enjoy the loving angst!"

"His heart thudded painfully, remembering

How he had knelt over the boy

Thud

How he watched his world crash down around him

Thud

How his fist formed quickly and tightly, nails biting deep into his palm.  The pain hadn’t deterred him, only spurred him

Thud

The brightness of the hospital took over once more and his throat constricted.  His hands now throbbing in unison with his heart, hands covered in more than just his blood, hands that had acted with a single purpose 

To release the fury and the hate 

To unleash pain until they were numb 

He closed his eyes, horrified. 

…"

[theredsuzuran]

Kᴏᴋᴜsʜɪʙᴏᴜ, ᴅᴏᴜᴍᴀ x ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [ NSFW ❣︎ ]

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵐᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ʸᵃʸ¡

Kokushibou~

Tags : non-con, dom-sub, hate sex, fingering, creampie, belly bulge.

"I believe you want to decapitate my head, no?"

The demon spoke calmly while teasing that swollen clit of yours on the other hand his long wide digits pumped in and out of your tight wet core vigorously. Ending up like this after dedicating your life to the crops is rather humiliating but instead of cowering with shame and disgust, you find yourself enjoying every thrust that penetrated deep inside the clenched hole of yours, prevailing a pure state of ecstacy.

"Speak of yourself filthy demon" you managed to speak between low grunts by resuming the lweds noises from escaping your soft trembling lips. A series of swift slaps landed onto your bare tits molding the flesh roughly in the process accompanied with pinches in the hypersensitive bud erected high due to its intensity. Your knees shuddering with each blow as kokushibo slaps harder simultaneously in your hip and breast without mercy.

How did you two end up like, this night was supposed to predict the future of humanity, either one of your demise, yet there you were being fucked by your sworn enemy. Hate was an understatement to define the feelings you store for him, lothe was the correct word. You loathed him for long as you can remember starting from the way he overpowers you to the way you whimper helplessly beneath his touch. All the insults he throws at you with his gaze locked directly over your frail quivering frame, caressing your forbidden places, fluids overflow shamelessly from your heated cunt.

Hovering on top of your small delicate body, the tall demon bends you aggressively against the tree stem. Fearing what might happen next, you tearfully pleaded but was it too late for he gropes your hips with such force rubbing his cock in between them.

"Weak" is all that come out from the silence, that one thing you never wanted to hear especially from him, it was unacceptable how he honorably stood as if he was mocking at your pathetic state while you lower you head down due to mind numbing pleasure, unable to put up with this degradation you decided to work on your impulses, applying all your remaining force you lifted your head only to be pressed down allowing him to hold a fistful of your hair roughly. 

"You think you can defeat an upper rank?" he yanked your hair roughly causing you to flinch with pain, and before you knew his member slide inside your drenched opening, you clinged onto his toned chest scratching his shoulders. He began pounding you with inhuman speed, his other hand spreading your leg wide as he mercilessly pumped his shaft upto your cervix creating concussions all over your body, belly bulging out due to his length. The forest filled with lwed moans, pants and grunts accompanied with sloppy noises of bare skin clapping against one another as the two of you continue to bang.

"Look at me" kokushibo ordered with his low voice, as an act of rebellion you refuse to listen to him gritting your teeth in protest. Suddenly he grabbed your face roughly to stare at you with his menacing eyes, your faces inches apart ready to mingle with burning passion but now would he let your lips connect? Demons are not capable of experiencing emotions anymore for they have abandoned their humanity long ago and before you stood one of the most ruthless, cruel demon of all time dominating your fragile little body like a play thing. Saliva drooling off your mouth while your tounge sticking out as he increases his pace gradually, upon witnessing the pathetic sight of yours, he chockes you earning moans of his name from your lips. There was nothing more you wanted than his cock. He shoots it warming up your walls while your juices coating his member reaching your respective orgasm, he releases you from his grip making you fall onto the ground, his hot seeds oozing out off your pussy. Just as you thought your miseries have ended and your life as well he pulled you up the ground earning a loud shriek in response, his usual calm face curving slightly into a sinister expression.

"I know exactly how to break you, (y/n)"

Douma~

Tags : mastrabation, degrading, oral sex, cock worship.

You have always loved the eccentric cult leader from afar which begun from exchanging a glance, you were just an insignificant maid like some other women in his prismatic pair of eyes but devoting your life and soul for his upmost affection became your priority. Everybody desires that whole heartedly you never consider yourself as an exception but you dared intoxicating your thoughts spending tedious nights imagining yourself indulged in sinful pleasure.

Just like any normal day, you were assigned to do chores around the cult including tending your master's room. His scent lingered as you prepared the cushions he would he sitting later "douma s-sama" your lips parted to chante his name, fingers automatically rubbing over the fabric of your heated spot forming inbetween shaking thighs, trembling, as all kind of dirty thoughts engulf your mind Sitting onto the bed you spread them, so blissfully unaware that the one watches intently.

"Look who we have here, (y/n)~ touching herself while calling her master's name" you jolted upwards in utter shock soon turning into shame.

"Don't mind me, continue what you were doing dove" the man beamed with excitement as his lustful gaze roamed upside down.

"I-" you hesitantly replied.

"I won't ask you twice, if you don't want me to force you, do what I say you useless slut" his tone changed in a matter of second the carefree smile he puts up usually is replaced to a completely unemotional one scaring you for you followed his orders fearfully by rubbing your clit infront of him avoiding eye contact. He locked his eyes directly on that dripping entrance. Your wildest fantasies have come to reality.

"Come here" which you immediately obliged to, he motioned to the tent forming in his pants. "Suck" you touched the length with your hand carefully unzipping the fabric, his scent filled your nostrils captivating you to take that inside your warm mouth and you did, swirling your tongue around it kissing and sucking it gradually making the demon groan in satisfaction. You bobbed your head slowly adjusting to his big size and start sucking it upside down when suddenly you were bend down with his nose poking at your wet core, hot breath tickling onto your pussy.

"I thought it would be rude of me to enjoy on my own" he explained his expression just the same as usual as if nothing like that happened before. He stretch his tongue out to have a good taste of your wet little slit. "Oh, did I allow you to stop now, dove?" Then he began assaulting that area vigorously with his long wide tongue making it hard for you to clinge onto his cock. You scream with pure ecstasy while he continue licking and teasing your vulva occasionally sucking on it, each time harder than before. You manage to suck his cock trying to match with his inhuman speed, then he suddenly pull out a string of saliva mixed with your fluids connecting his tongue.

"You really like it no? You have to beg for it if you do" a devilish smirk formed on his features. "I do" you replied trying to clasp the area he assaulted minutes before. "No, be specific, say you are horny little slut who wants to be touched" douma explained his smile never fading away. "Please.." tears forming your eyes, who knew he'd be so sadistic but you can't deny you loved every inch of it however he pocked onto your sensitive erected clit with his sharp nails just enough to not scratch it. "You won't? Too bad" he rubbed it slightly driving you crazy.

"I- want I-it"

"Mm? You want what dove?"

"I want you to touch me master for I am a horny little slut who needs your attention.. please master" you mwealed unable to take his teasing anymore, he bit your clit harshly making you squirm in pain, your walls tightened releasing all the pent up frustration you have stored over his face, you collapsed your eyes rolled back, tongue sticking out.

"That's it?" Douma pouted.

"But don't worry you have to yet make me cum, this day's gonna be so long (y/n)"

[mostly-marvel-musings]

hi can u write a bucky femxreader where they hate each other and have a really loud yelling and fighting session and then it turns into a heated passionate makeout sesh and it goes from there (enemies to lovers hate sex!!!!)

Sparring

A/N: Okay here we have some angry sex with Mr Barnes, let me know if I nailed it!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, angry sex.

Word count: 1.4+

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists are open folks! Send me an ask or DM to be included in any of these ;))

“Again!”

Your arch nemesis yelled as you landed on the rubber mat with a huff, back hurting from being repeatedly thrown around during the sparring session. It wasn’t your day apparently and you kept missing punches and ended up on the floor more than you should have. Your sparring partner was a trainee which added insult to injury and given that you were being judged and yelled at by James Buchanan Barnes was just another blow to your ego.

It was no secret that you two didn’t get along. Years ago when he was the Winter Soldier, you had been sent by Shield to track him down in Bucharest which had gone south very quickly. You had almost lost your life and if weren’t for Natasha coming to your rescue, you wouldn’t have been here to hate him. The permanent scar on your abdomen thanks to his metal arm and the fact he’d choked you until you’d passed out – the now invisible finger marks around your throat were enough to remind you of all the hatred you felt towards him even years after he’d joined the good side.

“Are you snoozing over there (Y/L/N)? We’re not done just yet, let’s try it again.” Bucky’s harsh voice snapped you out of it as your opponent helped you stand up. You glanced at the man who had a look of disapproval on his face.

Channeling your rage was easy, you managed to get a few good kicks in and knocked your partner Jake down a couple of times, eyes flitting towards Bucky to make sure he was looking at your progress, but he didn’t seem fazed. Rolling your eyes, you went over to grab water from your gym bag to take a breather when Bucky stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Taking a little break. Don’t I get five minutes?”

“You’ll get a break when I say you can.”

“Hey I think we’ve had enough, we can call it a day.” Your partner offered, trying to diffuse the tension that was building.

He dismissed Jake but asked you to get back on the mats with him instead, you knew this was coming. You went for the water anyway while Jake got his things and left sending a sympathetic look your way as you wiped some sweat off with a towel.

Bucky flexed his arms till you joined back, just a little show off that you didn’t care about before you prepared yourself, guards up. You had to ignore his critical look at your stance otherwise you were sure to have punched him in the face right there and then.

You were quick to attack first but it was almost as if he was expecting the move, he dodged it with minimum effort and held you in a headlock, the metal arm around your neck while the other held your head making it slightly difficult for you to breathe.

“That was sloppy.”

His voice was low and breathy against your ear while you made futile attempts to free yourself. He did you a favour and let go, only to land a kick against your sides which you thankfully blocked just in time.

The sparring session went on for a while with you taking blow after blow, blocking a mere handful but adding to Bucky’s annoyance and your own rage. A final move had you pinned underneath him, his face inches from your own, the dog tags he always wore clinking against each other as they fell out of his training shirt. Bucky’s eyes shamelessly roamed over your heaving chest as the sweat made your skin glisten, the strands of hair that escaped your ponytail and clung to your forehead, your eyes that bore into his, defeat hidden beneath the simmering fire.

“I thought you were one of the good ones (Y/N). You disappoint me.”

“It’s funny how I thought the exact same thing about you Barnes.” You seethed before you pushed him off, stood up and went towards the bench where your bag was.

“We’re not done h—”

“Yes we are! I think I’ve had enough humiliation to last me a decade from you today. I don’t care if what you say, I’m done.” You turned around heatedly as you yelled, your voice echoing in the empty gym, stopping Bucky in his tracks as he watched angry tears gather in your eyes.

“You let emotions get in the way (Y/L/N) that never makes for a good agent which I had my doubts if you were, now it’s pretty clear.”

“Oh I’m sorry not all of us were brainwashed to be cold-hearted assassins Barnes.”

That was a step too far, you knew it, he knew it, but you were practically fuming at this point and it just slipped out.  

Bucky took slow, deliberate steps towards you, making you back away until your back hit the wall, as he stopped right at the point where your chests were almost touching. His human arm slid along your sides before he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“I can be cold-hearted when it comes to others things too little girl.” He whispered dangerously, the grip tightening just a little, enough to elicit a whimper from your lips.

“Don’t call me a little g—”

Before you could finish, his mouth slanted over yours in a bruising kiss that took you by surprise at first but soon you found yourself kissing him back with equal if not greater fervour. Wedging his knee to push your legs apart, his hand left your throat to pull the straps of your sports bra down to expose your breasts. Bucky’s tongue mingled against yours in an assault while he kneaded your breasts before tracing a pattern down your neck to the valley between your breasts where he sucked possessively. A groan fell from your lips when he grazed his teeth over your pert nipples.

Your hands desperately grabbed his shirt before pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the back. He picked you up by the back of your knees before taking you over to a bench and carefully laying you on it, all while attacking your mouth with his ruthless kisses. Your eyes remained shut as you felt trapped in a heady mix of the need you felt for this man and the desire to have him in you right here in the compound gym and you were sure he felt the same as your leggings slid down your legs along with your panties to join the heap of clothes on the floor.

“You’re soaked baby girl… is that for me?”

Bucky’s fingers toyed with your glistening folds before sliding a finger inside as you gasped at the intrusion. Your eyes flew open just enough to watch him close his lips over your bundle of nerves while he added another finger, stroking your walls and stretching you out. Just as you were about to cum, Bucky pulled his fingers out causing you to whine out loud.

“Cold-hearted assassin was it?”

Previous anger came flooding back as you sat up only to push Bucky on the floor as he stared back at you, equal parts surprised and impressed. Undoing his pants in a hurry, you freed his erection and pumped his cock a few times, swiping your thumb across the tip to collect the precum. He watched you in awe as you worked him up, doing absolutely nothing to stop you as you straddled his hips before sinking down on his length.

“Oh fuck…”

“Where was all this aggression?” Bucky growled, grabbing your hair roughly to pull you down for a kiss as you began rolling your hips. Your eyes mapped every plain and dip of his chiselled torso all while your mind thought of ways to make him shut up.

Your nails scratched marks on his shoulders as you picked up the pace gradually, your sensitive nub brushing against his pubic bone every time but you wanted more. You drew tight circles with your own hand chasing your release before Bucky slapped it away only to replace it with his own deft fingers.

He began thrusting up faster, jaw clenched to suppress his moans, filling the room with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mewls as your walls fluttered around his cock deliciously, your orgasm consuming you whole, clouding your thoughts and triggering his release as his cock twitched before filling you with thick ropes of cum.

You collapsed against his sweat-lined chest and lay there for a bit, slowly floating back to the land of the living.

“Why do you hate me?” Bucky asked after you parted to put your clothes back on.

“Why do you?” You countered.

“You’re an obstinate incorrigible woman.”

“And you’re an arrogant piece of shit.”

The glares you gave each other melted away as smiles began appearing in place of them as you head out of the gym together, the after effects of your activities showing.

“You want to grab a bite to eat later?”

“No. I still don’t like you Barnes.”

[astromaki]

part 3 of second choice ; ceo!shoto todoroki x gn!reader (x ceo!katsuki bakugo) (1617 words)

part 1. part 2. (previous) part 4.

tw ; angst, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, degradation, divorce, mention of alcohol, bad language, slightly suggestive ?

EXTRA INFOS ;; all the characters are aged up obviously (they are 30 here), the point of view of this third part is from shoto todoroki !

confrontation. [7 : 16 pm]

a week has passed since he came home that night drunk. that he had begged momo to stay with him. that he had accidentally seen those divorce papers crumpled by your hands.

momo had seen them too that night, and yet she and shoto had not commented on them. good, he wasn't in the mood anyway.

it had become almost official, even the media had it on their front pages. "one of japan's richest couples on the verge of divorce?", "billionaire todoroki single again?" "y/n, will the heir.ess of their father's company return to being a lawyer?"

he would have liked to say that he cared what you thought about it. if you cried, screamed, were you hurt ? but that would be lying, you were the least of his worries.

and then, wasn't it what he wanted from the beginning ?

that you would end up hating him so much that you would leave him. that he could finally be free of the weight that you represented every day.

and yet his signature was still missing.

"you can't even love your partner properly, and now i hear through the media that a divorce is on the way ? you're pathetic son. i knew i should have married them to touya. " enji's heart-attack voice echoed terribly through the phone, which made shoto sigh. he was even pretty sure he could hear it from across town.

"calm down." shoto said in an annoyed tone. "your marriage isn't a success either, so keep your remarks to yourself. bye. "

"you idiot, don't you dare hanging up on me. i don't care if you can't satisfy your s/o, i don't care if they feel bad about this arranged marriage either. but y/n y/l/n comes from a very famous lawyer's family, so get a divorce and the amount of money you have to give will be huge. "

"i manage them, it will not be a problem. i have to go now. "

the young man finally returned to your room, looking exhausted, his tie loosened and ready to down a few glasses of whiskey.

however, he was surprised to see you. dressed in a beautiful versace dress/suit, you were glowing. well no, he meant that you looked... good.

though, it was the first time he took the time to look at you. to admire you.

the young man finally met your indifferent gaze through the mirror you were standing in front of. that gaze that was so joyful and sparkling at the beginning of your marriage, full of hope to transform this purely financial union into a love marriage.

but that look, devoid of emotion, almost made shoto, Japan's most ambitious ceo, doubt himself. almost.

"i'm surprised you're still using my card to splurge. how much is this one? $1000 ? $2000 ?"

he was tired, exhausted. nut the truth is he was in the mood to be a pain in the ass tonight.

"$ 8,330. plus the $800 pair. " you replied coldly.

your answer was like a slap in the face to your husband. not because of the price, he didn't give a fuck about this.

but this tone right there. it wasn't like you. you were normally so gentle, patient even with the worst of the crap he put you through. that naive kindness that made him want to vomit was completely gone. he didn't expect such a turn of events.

"so you decide to divorce me, but first you want to empty my bank account? you're exactly as I imagined." his look that used to reflect nothing but fatigue was now full of contempt for you.

you finally faced him. shit, he couldn't help but find you beautiful.

"here todoroki, let's talk about the divorce. " you began, quietly walking over to the cabinet and pulling out a stack of documents. "i've signed it, sign it, and i'll take it to my lawyers first thing in the morning.

he snatched them out of your hand and threw them across the room. you didn't even flinch, you even held his gaze. poker face.

a loud silence fell between you. a long silence, uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. heavy and light. sensible and meaningless.

"what's all this about ? who put you up to this ?"

a wry laugh escaped your lips. your new behavior puzzled shoto. he loved and hated what he had in front of him. a challenge.

"you think i need someone to make me realize that i deserve better than an asshole like you ? fuck, let me laugh. "

your hand went to retrieve a piece of paper from your purse. and it was slammed hard against his chest. bakugou’s business card.

he found your face inches from his, your warm breath gently caressing his cheeks. a scent of whiskey filled his nostrils. you were not sober.

"how many drinks are you on? " he asked quietly.

"so now do you care if i downed a whole bottle or not ? oh please shut up. because now that you mention it, your friend bakugou katsuki may have hired me. to be his company's business lawyer. isn't that funny? "

you turned your back on him, unaware of the state you'd put him in. but damn, it was like he'd just been slapped in the face. nausea took over his whole body, his legs became heavy and weak in few seconds only. and he knew damn well it wasn't fatigue.

so you were leaving him, but on top of that you were going to work for his number one competitor ?

he didn't know what hurt more, the knowledge that bakugo had won one of the most competent lawyers in the field or that you were leaving him for him ? was he jealous ? surely not, it was another feeling that repulsed him. he didn't even know.

"have you lost your tongue todoroki ?"

todoroki ? since when did you call him by his last name ? where are the darlings or my heart that used to annoy him so much ?

you finish getting ready, now wearing your long jacket. he had lost his tongue indeed, he didn't know what to say to you. what to do.

y/n y/l/n, you had succeeded in putting your husband to the wall.

but it was only for a moment. he quickly, too quickly, pulled himself together. his usual irritated expression returned.

"you don't see that he's using you to get ahead of me ? i thought you were smarter than that. "

he took a step forward, slowly but surely. like a predator approaching its prey.

"he doesn't care about you. just like no one has ever cared about you, not me, not him and not your bourgeois family. that's why they put you in a loveless marriage so easily. "

a mirthless laugh escaped from his lips.

"y/n, this bastard doesn't give a damn about you. "

you tried to move towards him, ready to slap him, but the alcohol made you capsize and stumble on your carpet. he arrived just in time to support you with his muscular arms. an annoyed sigh resounded in the large room when your sob reached his ears.

nevertheless, a petty smile stretched his lips. there you were again, the fragile and unassertive y/n finally in his arms.

that bakugo had managed to turn your brain inside out. yet shoto knew you better than anyone else. he knew you. better than you knew yourself. you were that puzzle he had managed to decipher long ago.

"that's not true. kacchan wouldn't do that...", you whisper.

"you know i'm right, sweetheart. you know i'm the only one who's honest with you. my love for you is all you need. "

his muscular hand gradually, peacefully, came to caress your back to take off the buttons of your dress. his lips came to meet yours, to draw you into a long, languid, unsentimental kiss. your lips asked for more, your whole soul asked for more of shoto. more of this man for whom your heart never stopped beating. even if his was vibrating for another woman.

you wanted to feel his lips making love to you sensually, sincerely.

you just wanted him to love you for one night. one fucking night.

shoto was ecstatic. he could already see himself opening a bottle of champagne with his father, to celebrate the divorce that would never happen. tonight, shoto had brought out his best acting skills. millions were at stake. he had brought out his best kiss. he had never touched you like that. so gently, so carefully.

he had never called you by any affectionate nickname.

he has done too much to keep you around.

and you were drunk, not stupid.

you finally stood up, moving away from him, reluctantly. nothing he said was true. from his love for you, to his accusations against katsuki.

awkwardly, you put your dress/suit back on properly.

"i have a meeting with my future employer mr. bakugou tonight. i'll be late. don't wait for me, i'll sleep at the hotel tonight, with your card. "

a red color came to his cheeks. anger ? sadness ? jealousy ?

he had never seen you so determined, so proud. and that attracted him. he was going to lose millions, no matter what. but it was you who was going to escape him. for that bastard bakugou katsuki.

the nice little y/n was no longer shoto todoroki's.

AHHH omg sorry sorry i told you i can't do a fluffy end!! >< (comments and reblogs are appreciated <3)

🔖 tag list ; @nveusii @angelofthorr @missmolliemoo @jazzylove @loki-an-idiot @deepestranchgoopdeputy @mhasimp666 @shotorozu @chscklvr @devilsbooksworld @marshmallow12345 (ones in bold cannot be tagged)

[fill-me-with-your-memes-daddy]

Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]

So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.

Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad

Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.

STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.

IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.

STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.

Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him

So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.

NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT

The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable

Those husky animation models suck lmao

Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!

God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it

Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that

But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????

Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden

This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh

Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)

THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much

Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)

Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens

On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending

Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other

YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).

Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last

Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!

Oh never mind slavery trollmarket

Bruh titanic camelot

I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things

NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH

STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER

THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN

WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?

Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person

For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues

Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy

Bruh I was grieving

PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference

Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?

NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS

Oh thank God he's okay

NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD

oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))

But I want to see him again

But I'm glad to see vex

Yay they're in arcadia!

But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((

Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)

Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them

Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus

DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE

Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.

BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.

Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.

Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???

And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole

And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!

THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!

BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????

Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭

Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora

HUZZAH

NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????

STAB THAT BITCH JIM

WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED

Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it

SEVEN KIDS?????????

T O B Y ????????????

W A I T NO

N O

IS HE ACTUALLY

OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE

NO THERE ISN'T

F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED

Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS

I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH

W A I T

HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????

HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????

WAIT IS HE

BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON

HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????

BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending

TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all

And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Adrift

So... time for more first draft novelization clips from Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch. As always, I want to thank all of you who like these clips I'm sharing here, especially this lovely game's equally lovely creators. It's all so motivating for me to keep going with this passion project.

I noticed that there’s been some call in the tags for some fanfiction of Cove comforting Jamie, so I think I shall oblige that desire... by starting off with the hurt part of the classic hurt/comfort equation. After all, comfort isn’t as satisfying without showing why it’s necessary, don’t you think? ;3

Don’t worry, the comfort half will be posted soon. It’s just showing the whole thing at once is wayyy bigger the usual slices of snippet offerings I toss up here. It’s a lot bigger than usual even when sliced in half like this.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy my take on the moment from Step 2 that started me writing this novelization in the first place - Family.

...

The air in the house felt stifling. It wasn’t an overly hot or humid day, but the air felt too thick. The lack of oxygen made it hard to think straight. Jamie needed to go outside. She needed to get her thoughts in order. She needed someone to talk to about this, someone who could help her sort her head out so she could figure out what she could do about all of this.

She needed Cove.

Jamie returned downstairs. She caught sight of  her mothers standing around at the kitchen counter while Lee sat awkwardly alone on the sofa, but her gaze slipped away from them quickly as she kept walking towards the door.

“I’m going out,” she said before worrying that the abrupt statement might give her family the wrong impression. “Just for a little while.” She threw her moms another carefully crafted smile, but still didn’t meet their eyes. “I’ll be back before it’s really late.”

Neither Noelani nor Pamela said anything, merely nodding at their daughter. They trusted Jamie to make the best call for what she needed right now. Jamie loved them for that.

“I love you,” Jamie said as she opened the door, but she didn’t give her parents a chance to respond in kind before closing the door behind her.

The walk to Cove’s house never felt so far. Jamie ached to see him. She needed to be with him. Right now. She was at a loss for what to do with her family, her thoughts adrift in a stormy sea. But if she was with Cove, somehow it would be alright. She was sure of it.

Jamie readied to knock even before she reached the front step, but a voice stilled her hand just above the door.

It was muffled, coming from inside the house, but she recognized the voice as belonging to Cliff. She couldn’t make out the exact words, but he sounded jovial, obviously having a good day. A moment later, a lighter, more tinkling voice answered with equally good cheer - Kyra.

Jamie took root on the doorstep of the Holden household. She wanted to see Cove. She needed to see Cove. Yet, in order to see him, that meant talking to his parents. His parents who only recently started being friendly to each other in front of him. She could just see them smiling at her if either one were to answer the door, oblivious to the turmoil in the Leimomi household, asking her about how she was doing and what was going on.

Why did that terrify her so much?

What if they noticed something was wrong? What if they asked her about it? She couldn’t tell them about what was going on with her sister. It was too personal. Yes, she liked Cliff and Kyra - they were great people, they were Cove’s parents, and their families were close - but this was a step too far.

Telling Cove that Elizabeth was heartbroken about losing the family she was born to was one thing, but Jamie couldn’t confide something so personal to anyone else.

Besides, things were already rocky at the Holden household. They were just starting to be alright again for Cove, despite the rough patches that hit this summer.

The worst of which being when Jamie herself opened her big fat mouth and told Cove about the twenty dollars.

Jamie dropped her hand, letting it hang limply at her side. She still ached to be with Cove, but she couldn’t, not until she could be sure she wasn’t simply tossing another emotional hand grenade in his lap just to make herself feel a little better.

Cove deserved better than that.

Jamie had barely dragged herself two steps away from the door when it opened behind her. She jumped at the sound of Kyra’s voice, no longer obstructed by the door.

“I’ll be right ba… Huh?” Kyra blinked, clearly surprised by Jamie’s presence on the way out to wherever it was she was going. She brightened immediately, however. “Oh, hi Jamie.” She smiled knowingly, not that the blue-haired girl could see it. “Are you here to see Cove?”

The words got stuck in Jamie’s throat as she panicked for a moment, scrambling for how to answer. All she had to do was say ‘yes’, but…

Jamie couldn’t handle the feeling of Kyra’s questioning gaze on her, piercing through her back. Kyra was expecting to see her usual smile and friendly demeanor, but she couldn’t be that right now. Her attempts at a smile felt too tight, too unconvincing, so she kept her face turned away from Cove’s mom, her eyes glued to the pavement as she forced herself to take another step away, then another.

It was hard for Jamie to sound normal when she finally forced words from her tight throat. “I… I’m just… walking.”

“Really?” Kyra asked, the disbelief in her voice clear as she watched Jamie walk away with a gradually increasing pace. “Okay then. I guess he’ll see you later?”

Jamie merely nodded as she forced herself to keep moving.

Time passed without meaning as Jamie focused on her feet as they led her forward. Where she was going, she had no idea. Her only plan had been to talk to Cove. Without that, without him, she felt as though she had been cast adrift in a stormy sea with no sign of land in sight.

Whenever a familiar resident of Sunset Bird gave Jamie a typical greeting as she passed them by, she pretended not to hear them, carefully avoiding looking in their direction. Their eyes lingered after her with silent questions she didn’t want to answer, she could feel them clinging to her skin even after she left the roads behind.

The eyes of tourists weren’t much better. There were so many of them when her feet crossed from grass to sand. Fortunately, the tourists didn’t care to talk to her, particularly to potentially ask her probing questions. They didn’t know her or suspect anything was going on with her. They would have no idea about what was troubling her or the turmoil happening with her family. They wouldn’t care to ask her about them. They were just there to have fun at the beach then leave. They were little different than noisy shadows she drifted past.

Except for their eyes. Jamie could feel their eyes following her too.

Jamie did her best to focus more on the sound of the waves crashing against the shore instead of the chatter of people enjoying the last few minutes of the sun’s rays, or the noise inside her head. Her thoughts came erratically, constantly interrupting each other and overlapping until it all garbled together into something like radio static.

Jamie kept walking.  It was all she could do.

What did Jamie think she was going to say to Elizabeth anyway? ‘Sorry, sis. My parents are dead too. Do you want a hug?’ It was absurd to think she could’ve talked to her sister sooner when she couldn’t even think straight now.

What if something awful had happened to Elizabeth to make her want to see her biological parents?

What if Elizabeth wanted to be with her biological parents instead of them?

And what of their moms? They must have felt miserable because of how Elizabeth lashed out at them. They didn’t deserve that. Neither did Elizabeth.

Everything was awful. The world was crashing down around Jamie, and she had no idea how to help anyone. She couldn’t even do something as simple as see Cove, which came as naturally to her as breathing. A day like Cove was a day without sunshine. She felt cold, an empty part of her inside aching for him more than anyone else.

But Jamie wasn’t the one who needed comfort right now. She was fine. Biological parents weren’t something important to her. They had never been important. What was important was her family. Elizabeth and their mothers were suffering. She had to fix this.

The question was how. How? How?!

When the tourists thinned out, and Jamie could finally raise her head without risking catching anyone’s eye, she turned her gaze to the water as her feet continued to propel her forward. She watched the waves rhythmically crash along the shore, the water stretching out along the wet sand, her feet occasionally caressed by foam as she kept walking until finally she was sure no one would see her anymore.

The only one she wanted to see right now was Cove.

The water wasn’t blue, but instead a striking shade of pink shifting slowly to orange. Jamie watched as the orange gradually transitioned to purple. There were few things as beautiful as watching the sunset over the water.

Would she have ever seen a sunset like this with her biological family?

Vaguely, Jamie recognized the area her feet carried her to - it was one of the sections of beach the tourists rarely ventured, a place the locals enjoyed. Certainly, it was one of the more out of the way spots, one mercifully empty of anyone but her. It was one she had been to before with Cove when other parts of the beach were crowded. It was someplace that would be perfect to have fun together, just swimming, surfing, playing volleyball, or…

Would she even like those things if she wasn’t a Leimomi?

Jamie finally stopped walking. She focused on thoughts of Cove, but even those filled her with regret. She wanted to see him so badly. Why didn’t she just see Cove when she had the chance? All it would have taken was just a single word to Kyra. She had managed some, so what was one more? All she had to do was say so and things would be better right now, she knew it. Why couldn’t she even handle something so easy?

Why could Jamie never say what she really wanted? Why was it just so hard to say that she wanted to be with Cove?

If her original parents hadn’t died, she never would have met him.

Or her moms. Or Elizabeth. Or Lee. Or everyone else.

They would be strangers. Everyone important in her life would all be strangers. They wouldn’t know her, couldn’t love her. They wouldn’t even know she ever existed.

And… it would be the same for her towards them. She wouldn’t be able to feel anything for them just like she didn’t feel anything for her dead birth par…

Jamie covered her mouth and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, feeling her stomach roil in rebellion despite how empty it was.

When Jamie got the urge to retch under control, she took a deep breath until her lungs ached before letting it out slowly and shakily. She tried to quiet the screaming static in her mind by focusing on the scenery around her.

It was a futile effort, but it was all she could do.

Jamie kicked off her sandals, abandoning them somewhere in the direction away from the shifting tide. She focused on the cool, wet sand beneath the soles of her feet, squishing between her toes. The water caressed her, washing the sand away and pulled her towards the sea. The feeling was intimately familiar, almost playful. It tempted her to swim. The idea of floating in the water, letting her worries drift away with the tide felt so appealing to her chaotic mind.

But the last thing her moms needed was to deal with her coming back in soaked clothes covered in sand on top of everything else.

Jamie breathed in deep, focusing on the scent of saltwater carried on the wind. The ocean was soothing, it always had been. The way the color changed with the time of day was endlessly fascinating. It had become blue again once the sun disappeared completely, but instead of the beautiful greenish blue of the day that always reminded her of Cove’s eyes, it was the deep rich blue of night. The surface of the water, far off in the distance where the waves tapered off to nothing, was a mirror reflecting the sky as it settled into its final hue for the day.

She had to get herself together if she was going to be of help to anybody.

At some point, Jamie found herself seated on the ground, close enough to feel the waves caress her feet, but just far enough away that she wouldn’t get her pants or skirt wet. She could brush the sand off later so she wouldn’t track it in the house.

Was Elizabeth still in her room crying and wishing for a life that had been stolen from her? A life without her or their moms?

Were their moms beside themselves with worry that their family was falling apart at the seams?

Why was Jamie just sitting here when her family was suffering? She should be back at home doing… something at least. They needed her help, damn it!

Did she even deserve to be here at all?

...

Cove was having a great day. Despite the rough start to the summer and the rough patches that happened on occasion since, it had been like a dream for him to have his family back together, even if temporarily.

Today, Cove and his dad had the opportunity to show his mom many of the things about Sunset Bird that made living there so enjoyable. There had been a couple awkward moments here and there, but they had been few and far between, giving the three of them a rare day filled with smiles, sunshine, and laughter. Fishing, shopping, tennis, and even some time at the beach had left the three of them in high spirits.

Now they were back home together were back home, hungry and eager for dinner, which his dad was only too happy to provide. The conversation the three of them had while eating was light, as the tension that hung in the air between them faded little by little as they spent more time together.

The only downside to having a fun day out with his parents was not being able to see Jamie. Cove resolved to remedy that after dinner.

“You know, I saw Jamie earlier,” Kyra said in an off-handed manner.

Cove clanked his silverware against the dish. The timing made his face warm a bit, but he paid rapt attention to his mom.

“It was right before dinner,” Kyra said. That meant it was only half an hour ago at most. “It’s funny, I thought she was coming to see you, Cove. She was right outside the front door, but I guess she was just taking a walk on this side of the street.”

“What?” Cove said, his eyebrows raising.

That was strange. Why didn’t Jamie ask him to join her if she stopped by the house?

Cove turned to Cliff. “Did you hear her knock, Dad?”

Cliff shook his head and threw his son a grin. “Nope, and trust me, I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Kyra gave Cove a knowing look, her smile taking a teasing bend to it. “Oh, I already asked Jamie if she wanted to come in,” she said before her smile faded a little. “But I guess she was really set on taking that walk. She said she’d see you later though.”

It shouldn’t have struck Cove as strange as it did, but he knew Jamie better than that. If she was just going on a walk and already at his house, there’s no way she wouldn’t have asked if he wanted to join her. If she was busy with an errand or something like that, then he would understand, but just a walk? It wasn’t as if she could’ve mistakenly believed that he wasn’t home if his mom thought she was stopping by to visit.

Something about this didn’t sit right with Cove, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he was just overthinking things. It made him that much more determined to stop by and see Jamie as soon as possible.

With his dinner finished in record time, Cove was quick to excuse himself to head next door. He pretended not to see the looks his parents gave him and outright ignored the comments they threw his way that held a teasing note to them.

It took a little longer than Cove liked before someone answered at the Leimomi house. Pamela stared at him after opening the front door, startled by the sight of him, but a moment later she managed a smile, though it was feeble and forced.

“Oh, hello, Cove,” she said. She sounded tired.

“Hi, Mrs. Leimomi,” Cove said with an awkward smile of his own.

“Sorry, but Jamie isn’t here right now,” Pamela said before Cove could even ask the usual question.

Jamie was still out on that walk? It was already after sunset.

“Did she say where she was going or when she’d be back?” Cove asked, with growing unease.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable. Pamela looked past Cove to the street for any sign of Jamie returning home, but there was no sign of her absent daughter. “No,” she said eventually, though she was still looking past him. “Sorry, we don’t know where she’s gone.” She sighed and shook her head. “Don’t feel like you have to sit around waiting for her. We don’t know when she’ll be back.”

That set Cove on edge. “What?!” he blurted out, his eyebrows shooting upwards. “Why?”

Pamela hesitated, reluctant to speak. She glanced back at the house towards the kitchen where Noelani was holding a mug of something hot and soothing. Their eyes met, and although her wife was too far away to hear the conversation, it wasn’t hard to figure out what it was about. She waited for Noelani to nod at her before looking back at Cove.

“Jamie… needed to get away for a while,” Pamela said, the words coming out slowly as she chose them with care. “She’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

Every word was like a lead weight that sunk into the pit of his stomach, and for a moment Cove could only stare at Pamela, scarcely breathing. The word ‘probably’ stood out in particular, prodding into him with its sharp edges.

Something happened to Jamie today, something bad.

Something bad enough for her to not want to see him, not just today, but maybe tomorrow too.

Cove was off like a shot. He didn’t even think to give the usual parting pleasantries to Pamela before he was running. He had to find Jamie.

The first place Cove went was poppy hill. It was the obvious choice. Jamie had been coming here practically every morning this summer to play her guitar, but there was no telltale sound of music on the wind. The hills were empty.

Next was the playground, but no one was there either. Cove practically would’ve welcomed seeing Jeremy there at this point, if only to ask if the crabby boy had seen Jamie at all that day.

Cove shot down going to the shopping district or any location deeper in the heart of Sunset Bird. If Jamie was trying to get away from everything so badly that she was avoiding even him, then she wasn’t going to want to be around people right now.

That left only one real place left to search. Cove took off sprinting along the beach as fast as his legs could carry him. There was a lot of ground to cover.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Charlie’s 5✩ Inspiration: Daytime Spiritualities [昼日疑魂] Date Translation (END 5: Heart-throb)

“Entrust me all your fears and astonishment alike; there’s no need to hold back.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Charlie’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *5✩ Inspirations have 5 Endings!! *CG Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Charlie’s tag will be #For Night, For Paradox

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

How should I reply to him…?

★ E5 NIGHT: Nope★

As an adult well-versed in the horror genre, I was immune to horror movies for the most part.

MC: Of course not. We can bet on it if you don’t believe me.

Charlie: Stakes?

It appears that I had aroused his competitive spirit, for he smiled at me with interest.

MC: How about we bet on… who gets scared out of their wits first?

Charlie: Are you certain? I’ve never once lost a bet.

It was a gamble where the outcome was uncertain. The loser would be the first to lose their composure from fear.

There’s no way I’d admit defeat all so easily in the face of a show-off like Charlie!

MC: Absolutely!

Charlie: Interesting. I accept your challenge.

Charlie: You’re going to be the one losing your pride if you get so terrified afterwards that you can’t move.

Charlie: But, before we commence this bet… Aren’t you forgetting a little something?

MC: What do you mean?

Charlie: Where did you go this morning?

MC: The hospital.

Charlie: Think again. Before the hospital?

MC: Before…? Oh, right! I went out to buy snacks.

I jumped up, running to the door and rummaging through the bag of groceries I’d left there.

MC: What do you want to drink?

Charlie: Beer, like you.

I secured two cans of beer from the contents of the bag… Wait, no! What did he just say? He wants to drink BEER!?

I thought he didn’t drink? I mean, last time…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

During my last day off, Charlie had called me in the middle of one of my drinking moods.

Charlie: You’re drinking your sorrows away at home?

MC: I’m not drowning my sorrows in alcohol. I just felt like I was in the mood to drink; there’s an emotional appeal to it.

MC: Don’t you do the same when you go to bars?

Charlie: ...I do go to the bar, but I don't drink.

MC: ...Oh?

The rumoured star of the night who bombed a ton of money in private clubs is actually a “good boy”?

MC: How's that possible? You're lying, aren't you?

Charlie: Is it that odd to not drink?

MC: ...Not really.

Charlie: It's even odder to think that going to a bar equals drinking.

Charlie: Let’s just put it this way. The only reason why I go to bars is to play.

Charlie: And administering alcohol to the body is the greatest thing one can do to sully the living and perfect human brain.

Charlie: Especially this sort of low-quality alcohol made with fermented malt. 100g of the sweetened water called beer and its low molecular weight generates 180 joules of heat with your body.

Charlie: Drinking beer? Might as well swallow active bombs instead. At least, it’ll be much faster that way.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

So… Just what was going on here? It was one of the principles he lived by. Yet, he was doing a whole 180?

MC: Aren’t you afraid that ingesting alcohol will be an insult to that sober brain of yours?

Charlie: Didn’t someone say that drinking appeals to the mood?

Charlie: I'm with my Fiancée right now. Do you think I should retain a high level of reason, or show a rare moment of dullness?

MC: Do I have a choice?

Charlie: Of course not.

Charlie: Don’t worry. I won’t use the excuse of being inebriated to pull anything funny.

MC: ...Look who’s talking here?

Charlie: I can’t stand those sort of people.

Charlie took the can of beer from me before sitting back down.

Never mind; I'll gladly drop the topic. How can an adult not drink at all? Although, I bet his abstinence is probably so that it doesn't affect his job.

Click! Click!

The crisp sound of cans being opened sounded.

Never thought that he'd open it for me.

MC: Thank you, Dr. Zha!

I naturally held an outstretched hand out, waiting for him to pass me the open can of beer.

However, Charlie didn't react.

Click, click, clack…

The continuous sounds of cans clacking came from him.

I curiously peered over, only to find Charlie staring awkwardly at the cans with his brows furrowed. They were still as intact as they came.

MC: Charlie, don't tell me that not only have you never drunk alcohol, but you also don't know how to open cans…?

Charlie: You're questioning a doctor's practical ability?

MC: Then, you...

Pop!

Charlie had cracked the can open.

He freezes, frantically shoving the beer into my open hand. Then, he shoved his hands into his pockets, putting up a professional act.

Charlie: I have the habit of trimming my nails for surgeries, so it's not convenient for me to be opening cans.

For a moment, I didn't quite know what to say as I looked at our nails. They were nearly equally long.

He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t even know how to open a can. So why does he suddenly feel whimsical enough to start drinking today?

I cracked open his can of beer for him. He carefully wiped the foam that bubbled forth the mouth of the can with a tissue.

Charlie: Just now...

He took a sip of beer and slightly furrowed his brow.

Charlie: It was a mere mistake of a perfect person.

Charlie: It will not happen again.

Saying so, the glint of pride returned to his eyes once more. And the can of beer was quietly pushed far, far away.

MC: Okay, let's get back to watching the movie.

The paused screen lit back into action, encasing the room in a chilling and terrifying atmosphere once more.

The plot gradually thickened and I got increasingly absorbed with the movie.

Everything around me started to fade as I zoned into the movie, Charlie included.

Charlie: *Coughs*

MC: ……

Charlie: (Y/n).

MC: ……

Charlie: Are you really not scared?

MC: Stop moving.

All I could do was to use a free hand to keep Charlie in place as he fidgeted in his seat.

Charlie: ……

In the movie, the prisoner that was on death row managed to successfully escape into a cramped and narrow underground passageway. As muddy water splashed everywhere, the horrible cries of the jailer sounded from the other end of the door to the secret passage.

I'd given my entire self over to the movie at this point, watching the prisoner's every step with peeled eyes. I'd totally missed the faintest of all finger snaps in the world that'd sounded by the sofa.

Squeak…

The door to the entrance opened.

MC: Is the prisoner about to get caught?

However, the movie never cut scenes to show the jailer coming through the door. Still, I was fairly certain that I'd heard the sound of the door opening. And if had also been very clear.

Just as I was about to turn around to ask Charlie about it, I witnessed a bone-chillingly horrible scene…

The door the prisoner had closed suddenly opens. Sinister winds were brewing outside.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

MC: ……

MC: It should be a sealed-off corridor outside. There shouldn’t be any wind…

The more I thought about it, the more terrified I got. All I could see was the epitome of horror in this movie unfolding before my very eyes!

I felt a chill run down my spine; one different from anything I'd ever felt before, its icy tendrils spreading across my body. An alarm sounds in my heart. I was hyper-aware, with all my nerves strung tautly. It was as if any minuscule change in the surroundings would be able to set my senses off.

BANG!

A loud sound rang out in the air as the secret passageway’s metal door was knocked down. The jailer’s savage smile was reflected upside down in the pool of water by the prisoner’s feet.

MC: AH!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I frantically covered my eyes, subconsciously backing away into the thing I was leaning against.

Crap! I had such a big reaction! He definitely noticed...

Alas, his low voice entered my ears.

Charlie: Scared now?

His warm and powerful arm snaked around me from behind, wrapping itself around me above the blanket.

My searching back hit his chest; and the moment it did, a small yearning for comfort started making itself known within my heart, growing ever more so… Just like a lost traveller who'd finally found the lone source of light deep inside the forest.

Charlie: Admitting defeat this quickly?

Charlie's warm breath brushes against the top of my head, making the shell of my ear burn. Just a little closer and my face would be able to access the crook of his neck.

MC: Am not.

I stubbornly refused to admit defeat, but my feeble voice, muffled by my hand, proved otherwise.

Charlie: If so, then why are you covering your eyes?

Charlie: You're the one who said we're going to be watching this together? Can't live up to your words now?

His chest rumbled slightly. There was undeniable mischievousness in his voice.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie: Last chance. I’ll count to three. Put your hand down, hm?

Charlie: Three.

MC: I’m not even closing my eyes! See!?

I vehemently glared at Charlie through the gaps of my fingers.

Charlie: Not counted. I don’t advocate such viewing methods.

Charlie: Two.

MC: ...What can you even do to me?

Charlie: You don’t want to admit defeat, but neither do you want to put your hand down. Is there ever a bet so kind in this world?

His bony left hand reached up to cover the back of my hand as he attempted to push my hand back down.

I struggled against him with all my might, but he was way too strong. Hence, I had no choice but to admit defeat in this losing battle.

MC: One. I lose!

Charlie lets up, dropping the strength he’d been putting behind his fingers and ruffling my hair.

Charlie: Why are your lips poised so high up? Mad?

Charlie: Losing to me is nothing to be ashamed about.

Charlie gathered up the blanket that pooled around my waist, inadvertently pulling me closer to him as he did.

I sulked and refused to reply to him. I can’t believe I still managed to get scared by a horror movie when I’m already a full-grown adult! Not only did I lose, but I also feel ridiculed by this!

Still, I didn't want to admit that Charlie's embrace certainly did provide me with a sense of comfort.

Charlie: There, there. Don't be scared. I'm here.

He gently pats the back of my hand, speaking softly in a manner one would comfort a child.

His warm chest pressed against my back as his steady heartbeat resonated alongside mine, beating in tandem.

MC: ……

In hindsight, I realized that I’d always felt at ease and that I could forget about all my troubles whenever I was with Charlie. Even though he never fails to render me speechless and makes me want to roll my eyes at him for the most part.

Maybe it’s because he’s always so frank about things with absolutely no intent to hide anything? I don’t know...

Leaning into Charlie’s embrace, my fear and panic slowly ebbed away.

However, the door still made me feel a little uneasy, and I often found myself looking at it with frazzled nerves.

Suddenly, I noticed something strange about the little tailor alarm clock by the door.

Its hour hand was pointed at 12. The small mechanical tailor that told the time had jumped out of the clock, bobbing as it frantically rolled its measuring tape back up. Yet… I did not hear any chimes from the clock itself.

MC: What's up with today?

MC: Please tell me it’s not an actual supernatural occurrence…

I was just about to ask Charlie about it when a far-fetched reasoning for this suddenly flashed through my mind.

And it ingrained itself in my brain upon appearance, growing ever stronger…

No sound, with only the motions… Why didn’t I think of this earlier?

MC: Charlie?

Charlie: Hm?

MC: Is there anything that can cancel out sound?

Charlie: Why do you ask?

He withdrew his hand and stuffed it back into his pocket. There was a sliver of wariness in his eyes.

MC: It just came to mind. Just answer me.

Charlie: Vacuum. Sound cannot travel without mediums, and there are no atoms or molecules in a vacuum.

MC: And isn’t that your talent?

Charlie: Y-Yes?

I was getting closer and closer to confirming my suspicions.

The door that had suddenly opened without a sound, and the soundless alarm clock. If there was a scientific reason to explain all of those, then it’d be…

Charlie had just created a vacuum inside the door. That way, the air difference in air pressure on the inside and the outside would be able to push the door open.

Pity; but the soundless alarm clock had given me enough hints to piece everything together.

MC: You purposely scared me so I'd admit defeat myself? Well done, Charlie.

The movie was currently showing the part where the jailer collided with the metal door.

Thud, thud, thud…

This sound was vaguely familiar. A sudden idea hits me.

I tugged on the corner of his clothes, purposely lowering my voice.

MC: Charlie, do you hear something?

MC: Thud, thud, thud. Like someone knocking on the door.

Charlie: Are you having auditory hallucinations now? That's coming from the movie.

He held my head with both hands, turning it left and right.

Charlie: You haven't gotten any water stuck in your ears either.

I directly put my finger to his lips and looked around warily.

MC: Not that. Listen carefully.

A distant but very real thud sounded above us.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie was so terrified that he'd started shaking as he looked up at the ceiling incredulously.

I took the chance to grab onto his arm, leaning sideways to get closer to him and whispered into his ear.

MC: Believe me now?

MC: Actually, I saw something by the door just now and…

Charlie: What! What’s by the door!?

He quickly shot up from the sofa, encasing me in the shadow cast by his tall and wide back.

The movie had been paused, stopping on the dark scene of the secret passageway. The door of my entryway was partially shrouded by the eerie lighting coming from the projector. The creepy atmosphere intensified.

Charlie silently stared into the darkness for a good ten seconds before letting out the breath he’d been holding.

Charlie: What can there be?

Charlie: If ghosts truly do exist in this world, then why would the world ever allow someone as perfect as me, someone, who goes against even the laws of nature, to exist?

The corners of his mouth were raised in their usual arc. Looks like he has already regained his spirits.

The only thing that betrayed the nervousness he felt deep down were his hands that had yet to crease trembling.

He placed both his hands into his pockets, putting on a calm facade as he surveyed the room…

He’s putting his hands into his pockets again? Does he like to do that whenever he feels nervous?

Charlie: Perhaps something fell upstairs. It’s just a coincidence…

He'd only just finished speaking when another thud sounded. This time, it was much more solid, the sound seemingly reverberating through the very air of my apartment.

All colour drained from Charlie's face. I hurriedly stood up.

MC: Do you hear that!?

Charlie: Yeah.

I hid behind Charlie, slowly putting my hand into his shirt pocket. I could feel the slight tremor of his shoulders through the thin fabric of his dress shirt.

Charlie: ...I certainly do hear something.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down more of his fear. He unwittingly attempted to put his hand back into his pocket… only for it to brush against my hand that had touched the cold beer earlier.

Charlie: AHHH! HELP ME!!

Charlie: SOMETHING’S HERE!

Charlie could no longer maintain his noble attitude. He jolted, frantically throwing his composed facade out of the window as he flung my hand away.

MC: It's me!

Charlie: You…

Charlie gripped onto my shoulder with one hand while the other went to his chest. His frantic breathing slowly eased back to a normal rhythm.

Maybe it’s about time I tell him about “that”?

MC: Actually…

MC: There was once a girl who'd been imprisoned here in this room. She died from starvation here. That's why you'll often hear the sound of the door being knocked in the middle of the night.

MC: I never thought that she'd make an appearance in the morning this time…

Charlie: You're joking, right!?

I shook my head with a pained smile.

I placed both hands on his shoulders as I reached higher. I cupped my hand and got close to his ear and purposefully lowered my voice.

MC: If everything was fine and well at my place, then why would I have to call you here to watch a movie with me?

MC: Don't tell me you're thinking of running…?

Thud!

A resounding thud suddenly rang out, shaking even the walls as it reverberated.

Charlie: AHHHH!!

Charlie lost all his composure, screaming shrilly as he dove for the loveseat. I lost my balance as my knees hit the loveseat.

Amidst the chaos, Charlie had wrapped his arms around my shoulders as we both tumbled into one of the corners of the loveseat.

Charlie's skin was flushed from all the adrenaline, his breaths coming out in short and ragged pants. He was akin to a laboratory mouse who had its amygdala stimulated, lying against my shoulder paralyzed in fright.

His shrill scream earlier still faintly resonated in the air, making my eardrums ring in protest. I could help but recall how confident of himself he looked back when he made the bet...

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie: You’re going to be the one losing your pride if you get so terrified afterwards that you can’t move.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

MC: Pft- Hahaha! This is way too good!

I couldn't keep up the act anymore. I leaned my forehead against his as I snickered like mad.

MC: Okay, okay. I'm just pulling your leg!

Charlie: ...What?

Charlie: You're joking? But, you— I— Just now…?

Charlie raised his head, looking absolutely appalled. Having just had a tumble, a tuft of hair stuck out from the top of his head.

I grabbed the tuft of hair that stood arrogantly upwards and pushed it back down with a vengeance, smoothing it out in my revenge.

MC: Yeah! Who told you to scare me with your vacuum earlier!

I could acutely feel how his face immediately heated up against my shoulder. Is it because he just found out that I was tricking him? Or is it because of something else?

MC: So, can you get off me now?

Charlie: I refuse.

He simply buried his head into the crook of my neck shamelessly, avoiding my gaze.

Charlie: You'll have to first explain to me just what is going on here.

Charlie’s arms were snugly wound around my body, seemingly threatening not to let go until he’d attained what he wanted.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Is this man truly the same Dr. Zha that was listed on the leaflet detailing the famed doctors of the Hospital...?

MC: The hungry ghost was just a story I made up to scare you

Charlie: Uh-huh.

Charlie: But, just now…

MC: That was just the heating pipes.

MC: The grandpa upstairs turns the heating on at noon every day.

MC: It's going to be summer soon, yet he still keeps it up. Always at 12 sharp. The man's way more on point than the afternoon news broadcast.

Charlie raised his head, his sweat-soaked hair brushing across my cheek. It was a little ticklish.

Charlie: That's it?

MC: Yup!

Charlie: Ahem.

He sat back up, lightly clearing his throat before composing himself. Gone was the embarrassment from having lost his composure.

MC: Phew… You finally let up, huh.

He reflexively smooths out his collar. Soon, he returned to his usual self that you were all so familiar with.

Charlie snaps to attention with his hands behind his back, purposely looking around the room in an off-handed manner.

Charlie: Actually, I could already tell that something was wrong with the structure of this housing apartment the moment I stepped into it.

Charlie: Alas, it was just as I expected. The pipings are so terribly loud.

Charlie turned to look at me, slightly lowering his head and peering down at me in approval.

Charlie: Also, your acting is really good.

MC: ?

Charlie: Actually… I wasn't scared at all.

MC: ??

MC: If so, then may I ask what’s the whole purpose behind the fear that you so kindly expressed earlier?

Charlie: I was merely playing along with you. It’s the greatest form of acknowledgement towards your acting skills.

Just who is playing along with whom, in this case? Is this even up for discussion?

Still, I think his red ears speak louder than words.

Charlie returns to his seat on the loveseat. His familiar warmth envelops me once more.

Charlie: You still lost today.

MC: How did this come back to that?

Charlie: You're the one who got scared out of your wits first. You still have a penalty to serve, so...

Charlie: Comfort me.

He turned his head to the side as he hugged me. His cheeks were a rarely seen shade of red. He was flushed from the neck to the tip of his ears.

Looking at how embarrassed he was, I couldn’t help but find it a little adorable.

The heat in his embrace didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, it made a reassuring sense of familiarity slowly spread through my heart, like a warm summertime breeze blowing from the side.

I boldly nestled deeper into his arms, basking in the soft dream-like moment.

MC: How rare for you to be so quiet.

MC: Man, if only your first instinct wasn't to pick fights...

Charlie: Please, Miss. It's not like you don't enjoy it either. It'll be over soon enough.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The movie ends before we know it after the dazed silence that lapsed.

The projector stopped screening once the movie came to a close. The screen blanked out along with my guilt, panic, and fear.

And I’d completely missed the ending of the movie.

MC: Charlie? Do you remember how the prisoner who was sentenced to death got away?

I thought that Charlie would respond immediately in that prideful tone of his, giving me a clear and concise answer. Hell, I was even prepared to withstand another round of his narcissism if that ever came to pass.

Yet, he sounded a little unsteady and unsure, almost as if he too, was thinking of an appropriate answer.

Charlie: ...How did the prisoner getaway? Simple. He defeated the jailer who imprisoned him. All horror movies end the same way.

MC: He defeated… the jailer?

MC: The jailer here is a figment of his imagination; it doesn’t exist.

MC: The prisoner’s trapped in his own dream.

To prove what I’d said, I quickly pulled up the homepage of the movie where the summary and all the reviews were written. I pointed it out to him.

MC: Look, it’s even written in the movie’s summary…

I raised my head to clarify with him, but Charlie chose to completely ignore me, turning his attention to the plush pillow on the sofa. His eyes were very shifty.

Suspicious. VERY suspicious…

MC: Charlie, you… you didn’t take this movie seriously at all, did you?

Charlie closed his eyes in a slight grimace, his eyebrows knitting…

That reaction…. I KNEW IT.

However, he quickly bounces back from that moment of frustration. His expression suddenly turned serious and exaggeratedly grim.

Charlie: (Y/n), life is but a fleeting one.

The hell is this man talking about!?

I didn’t quite know why, but the serious tone he was taking with me sounded vaguely threatening. I could only nod in accordance.

Charlie: I see that you agree as well.

Charlie: If one wishes to have a glorious life as glamorous as the sun in this fleeting period, then some trivialities will have to be forgone.

Charlie: Alas, that movie earlier was an unfortunate one to have been forgone by this perfect life of mine.

MC: ……

MC: I see. I never knew that there was such a poetic way of saying “I don’t remember”.

Charlie: Who says I don't remember?

Charlie: I remember as clear as the day how my Fiancée got so terrified that she burrowed right into my arms.

I helplessly sighed. Looks like it'll be a long time and a good long way before I'll ever manage to understand how that brain of his works.

MC: Then, does the matter of rating and evaluating this projector still exist in your precious time of existence, Dr. Zha?

Charlie: The projector? Average.

Charlie: It's hard for me to be evaluating a projector below $200,000.

Charlie: But, I can consider using it as a console for couples.

He raised an eyebrow, smiling.

MC: And just where are your thoughts running off to?

Charlie: I'm just giving my honest, unbiased opinion.

Charlie: I hope you can convey this precious review of mine to the brand makers. Consider it my good deed for the day.

MC: Alright, Mr. Charitable.

MC: Now, are you quite done with your charitable acts? I'm going to pack the projector up and send it back.

Charlie: Why?

MC: Because… I feel like I don't really need a home theatre.

Charlie stilled my hand with his own, moving to block the projector off from me.

Charlie: Wait. I’ll take it if you can’t find a use for it.

Charlie: Send it to my house next weekend.

MC: You sure about that?

Charlie: Of course, I naturally have the right to accept any common personal property that my Fiancée chooses to give up.

Charlie: Come to my house next week, and don't stand me up.

With that being said, he confidently walked out of the apartment.

The golden sports car parked by the road gave a tremendous roar as it sped up. It soon faded away, replaced by the ever-present bustle of the people on the streets  

Watching the silhouette of the car gradually disappear, the events of what had gone on within my apartment resurfaced to the forefront of my mind… Charlie was far more bizarre than any horror film I'd ever watched.

However, it’s as if his appearance was slowly lowering my impenetrable guard over my small piece of land.

Now, as for what will appear in the future… Will it be volcanos? Or channels? Who knows; we’ll just have to wait and see.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Paradox⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

[watevermelon]

Expectations | Shirabu Kenjirou x Reader

✧ Summary: Having attended Shiratorizawa Academy from junior high, you were familiar with most of the students in your year. They were average, nothing special — until a certain vbc setter, from god knows whatever small town junior high he crawled out of, changed up your world. -> Tag: maybe language cause it’s shirabu; fluff and jealousy + slight angst

---xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx---

Shirabu Kenjirō was a living, breathing pillar of salt. And it was rightly so. He was the friend, the shoulder to cry on, and the person that everyone viewed as reliable. This was not entirely a bad thing, since he was viewed as much more dependable than others. And this idea was not limited to volleyball. But being placed in that category separated him from the very people who put him there. The girls viewed him as, at most, a friend. He was the king and leader of the friend zone.

It was the end of his second-year and he would soon be taking over as captain of the boys’ volleyball team. He justified lack of love life on the fact that he had bigger things to focus on. And after their crushing defeat, Shirabu reasoned that Shiratorizawa needed a focused captain to lead them to victory.

But the road to triumph was… rather lonely.

Shirabu had his team with him one-hundred percent and silently appreciated them for their confidence and own unfailing determination (he won't admit out loud!) But it seemed like he was surrounded by couples. His kouhai, Goshiki Tsutomu, found comfort in another first-year that was a regular on the women's volleyball team. 

Couples were disgusting.

Of course, majority of the members of the male volleyball were single. Ushijima was a super volleyball idiot and his focus seemed to never stray from the sport. But even with his cinnamon roll personality, the female base of Shiratorizawa seemed to flock to him. He was undoubtedly very handsome and tall. His grades were well above average and his fan club was incredibly prominent. Ushijima had all the makings of a great man and was noticed as such by a large pool of the student body. The difference was that Ushijima was willingly single.

Shirabu, deep in the non-explored depths of his heart, wanted to be noticed like his Senpai. When playing volleyball, Shirabu strived to be the type of setter that went by unnoticed and drew out the strength of his ace. And he knew the consequences of such. But still. He was the main setter on a highly prominent team and his skills are not hard to notice.

Maybe it was his rough personality? Pft. He would never change that for a person, no matter how special.

Shirabu was above average height and had amazing grades in a prestigious powerhouse. What wasn’t there to like? His sense of style was trendy and he was complimented on his clothes more than once. He as not too preppy like Goshiki and not too wild like Tendou. Was it his looks? His bangs were unusual, but they weren't as bad as coconut-head/bowl/Goshiki. Since entering adolescence, he failed to ever break-out and was blessed with marvelous clear skin. On more than one occasion, he would stare at the mirror and truly wonder just why.

Why was no one interested?

Enter you.

You attended Shiratorizawa in both middle and high school. Coming from a wealthy family, there was nothing standing in your way. You were fairly popular and had seen the multiple personalities flit through your advanced classes. And in your first-year came Shirabu, an outsider to Shiratorizawa from a lower-class middle school. After being in the system for three-years, you knew almost everyone and seeing a new face was refreshing.

From the very start, you wanted to bet to know him more. But he was incredibly reclusive and mysterious to the general student body. Nobody could answer your questions. Well. Nobody except a certain Salami and volleyball idiot. You shared an advanced statistics class with the two third-year volleyball players in your first year and from them you were able to peer more and more into the life of Shirabu Kenjirō.

“Why do you want to know, (F/N)-chan?” Tendou instigated, “You have a crush on him?”

“Please, Salami calm down.” He raised his hands and gasped, “Come on. There isn’t a single person in this school who I don’t know and suddenly nobody knows anything about him?”

“He is smart and adaptable.” Ushijima chimed in.

“And a little shit, that’s for sure.” Tendou stated. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention back to the statistics teacher. Sure, you wanted to learn more. But this class was hella hard and you still needed good grades. Eventually, you were able to gradually acquire more information and Kenjirō. You learned that he was the only player from the boys’ volleyball team to not get into Shiratorizawa with a sports scholarship. Instead, he got in on his own accord through the arduous exams and good grades.

The more you discovered, the more you liked him.

Shirabu had a work ethic that you hadn't seen in a while. Being in this particular school-system for so long ruined your perception of it. You perceived most of your classmates to have a truly pretentious or judgmental personality, but showing to be as sweet as honey to your face. Of course they wanted to be your friend, who wouldn't with your last name?

He hadn't.

Shirabu was straight-forward with a tongue laced with salt. Sign you the fuck up!

He had no qualms about talking back to you and you looked forward to your daily banter with an odd smile. It was strange. You could get any nice, sweet boy in the whole school. But what was the point if they didn't mean it? Shirabu was honest - a trait that should never be given up, even if it offended others. You would rather have someone give you genuine advice - even if it was mostly mean - rather than an empty friendship.

You had majority of the same classes together for the second year in a row. And you were the only person who would had the immediate desire to sit next to Shirabu as a partner. You silently viewed him as a friend, but there was always this barrier that you could never get over for your friendship to deepen. His time was always dedicated to volleyball. And you did not play any sports anymore.

You watched the volleyball team's crushing defeat to Karasuno and the heartbreak it caused to so many people, Shirabu included. The women's team was resorted to tears and you could not even look at the men for too long. Reon and Semi were so sweet and you wished you could protect them for all the bad in the world. You had never seen Shirabu cry before.

Shirabu... He seemed to only display emotion around his team. And this made sense since those were the people that he was closest too. The rare occasion you had seen his smile was when you had watched a game. They had an overwhelming victory against Johzenji High and you spotted the small grin on Shirabu after he scored the winning point. Your heart could barely take it. You only wished that he showed that side more to you...

He was friendly, but distant enough for you to want more. Shirabu was not cold to you and his harsh chitchat did not hold any true malice behind his words. But he never opened up to you. You wanted to learn more about him personally and if you wanted to, you would have to pry and almost force him to speak. He would give curt answers and then be done with the conversation. But, on more than one occasion, you would spot him typing away on his phone. It was no secret that the boys’ and girls’ volleyball team were fairly close and had a groupchat shared amongst them. You silently wondered if he was texting a girl from the team.

That thought had you instantly deflated and made you wondering if you ever had a chance with Shirabu. You were not one to be easily defeated, but with every brief conversation and blank expression he gave you, you considered giving up altogether. This happened around Valentine’s Day of your first-year. Shirabu was abnormally delighted and even smiled in the classroom at someone’s joke. You figured that sure, it was the day of love and he probably had something lined up for himself and his significant other – that was why he was so happy. And it hurt your heart. He smiled, but it was never because of you.

From there forward, you tended to avoid him to evade the imminent heartache every time you saw him. This was hard since you literally sat next to each other in most classes, but something entirely doable. You would leave the classroom immediately after class, show up right before it started, and not initiate conversation. It was always you that had previously opened up discussion, so when you had stopped there was little to none at all.

Shirabu caught up to your change and silently questioned it. On multiple occasions, you would catch him observing you from the corner of your eye and you silently hoped he would not question you outloud. Within a week, he was ready to corner you.

You were at your locker right after class, ready to pack-up and head over to photography club. He was silently bounding towards you and when you closed the locker he was standing right-there before your eyes.

“Did I do something to offend you?” He asked the moment your locker closed.

“No…” You stated haphazardly, clutching your backpack.

“You’re never his quiet or shy.” He noted, “Did something else happen?”

“I have to get to photography club…” Shirabu put his arm on the locker and blocked your exit. He was tall and there was no way you could out-run him, you were trapped.

“Don’t lie. We know it starts in twenty-minutes. You might be on the executive board, but you have a lot of time.” He sighed out, locking to the ceiling and then back to you. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“… Am I your friend, Shirabu?”

“Of course.” He did not hesitate to answer. “And it’s Kenjirō.”

“What?”

“Call me by my first name.”

“Oh.” You paused and let the name roll of your tongue, “Then you should call me by my first name too, Kenjirō-kun.” His eyes widened at the added suffix and a rosy dust covered his cheeks.

“Was that it?” He asked, “Come on, (F/N). That’s an immature reason to ignore me.”

“How was I supposed to know?” You questioned, “It never seems like you actually want to talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you now.”

“Outside of this!” You were beyond frustrated, “Ugh I’m fine now go away.” You lightly pushed his arm, but he did not budge.

“As if that would convince me.”

“You are so annoying.” You commented, “You never initiated conversation. I thought I was just bothering you.”

His gaze on you softened and you could not break the eye-contact, “You’re an idiot.” He teased and then ruffled your hair. That was the first time he had ever done physical-contact with you and you almost exploded then and there.

“I’m an idiot?” You repeated before walking away mid-sentence, “I’m hoping you treat your girlfriend better.”

He paused and let us hand drop down to grab your elbow before you go away. “Girlfriend? Where did this come up?”

“I thought…” Shit, you let that thought slip out-loud, “The men and women volleyball teams are close. And I’ve only ever seen you hang-out outside of class with them and those girls. I just assume...”

“You assumed wrong.” He quickly cut-off, “Ugh. What am I going to do with you?” He asked as he grabbed you into a hug. You returned the affection and you knew that a blush must have stained your face! And what was that question?

Shirabu continued, “So was that the real problem? You were jealous of my supposed ‘girlfriend?’” He laughed at his question and you were going to die from his smile. God it was so rare and you wished he graced you with it more!

“No! Don’t get too ahead of yourself!” You yelled back, but it was muffled against his chest. He leaned back to see your face and teased you for your embarrassed expression.

“You’re an idiot.” He laughed again.

Since then, your friendship with Kenjirō was gradually improving. But it seemed that there was this silent barrier that you could not overcome. You could talk about your problems, but not about his. And since then, he had not initiated any physical contact. If you ever brushed hands or simply leaned against him, he should shift away and pretend it never happened! Did you really make any progress?

Finals were coming up and that was giving you one last chance to spend time with Shirabu before the end of the schoolyear. Sure, you could always ask your father and he had the power to put you two in the same class again next year - But! Did you want to waste your last year together pinning after him?

Your study group was comprised of yourself, Shirabu, Kawanishi, and two people from his class. Kawanishi was in Class 5, which was also advanced, but he was so damn lazy! You saw his potential and only wished that he tried harder and quit fucking around.

The three other members of the group were missing that night and the two of you were left alone to grovel over English. Your English was better than Shirabu’s but the opposite could be said about history. You paired each other well and aided the other's faults.

You commented on this once jokingly, saying, "You complete me!" He simply rolled his eyes and brushed it off before continuing to study.

Damn. This boy cannot take a hint.

You attempted to show the boy your advances. But it seemed Shirabu would shut you down at every try, almost like he knew what you were doing and was firmly against it. A part of you considered backing down. He had made his intentions clear for two straight-years, maybe you should not waste another year on someone who obviously does not want your attention?

That thought last for a second before you waved it off. There was no one else you were even remotely interested in. If he said no, that’s fine. But you were probably not going to peruse anyone else.

Both you and Shirabu were spacing out from over-reading the textbook and happened to make eye contact. "What's on your mind?" You asked.

"Things you cannot understand."

"You really think that low of me?"

"No. I'm going to be the captain of the volleyball team in a few weeks."

"Wow."

"There's no way your pampered ass would get it."

"You think about my ass?" You teased, but he pretended to ignore the question. You spent enough time with him to notice the minute narrowing of his eyes and the slight curve in the corner of his left lip.

Damn, this boy had you bad.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Kenjirō." You comforted, "You're very smart and reliable. I believe that your training won't betray you."

"Reliable..." He murmured. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"What do you mean?"

He scoffed at your question, "Exactly. You won't understand."

"Then explain it to me!" You exclaimed.

"Why should I?" He seemed just as inflamed.

"Because I care about you! You big, dumb, idiot!"

Shirabu paused before fully looking at you, surprise evident. "Well, everyone expects this idiot to be reliable and lead the team. But..."

"But...?"

"That's all that people expect from me. To be the smart one. To live to everyone's expectations and shoulder the border of living up to the name ''powerhouse.'" He was getting more agitated and louder with each word.

"Woah, calm down."

"I can't calm down! In a few weeks, I'll lose the ace that I've admired for years and majority of our regular team! How am I supposed to fill in their shoes when we're losing one of the top 3 spikers in the country?"

You had no shame in grabbing his chin and turning his full attention to you. "Listen here you idiot. Don't interrupt me! I said don't! I stopped sports, but I know this is something entirely inevitable. Your senpai's are moving onto the next phase of their lives, but it's not something you can stop or change. You have to accept the future and make the most out of it and I know you will. Shiratorizawa is not the only school with graduation. Your rivals and others will lose their precious third-years and its then will you be able to analyze them and attack. But you need to calm the fuck down."

Shirabu was hanging onto every word. Nodding at some parts and fully taking in what you were trying to convey. At the end of your speech, he pushed your hands away from his face with a slight rosy dust on his cheeks. No woman, outside of his mother, had ever done that to him before.

"You're a real pain, (F/N)." he started, "But thanks. I needed that."

"No problem, I just want you to know that I can be here for you." You extended your hand to cover his own on the desk.

His eyes latched onto your hand before he averted his gaze and attempted to pull his hand away. You kept a tight enough grip to keep it in place, but not enough to hurt. "Must you touch me so much?"

"You are such a tsundere, oh my god." You commented, "Of course, I had to like you."

He stilled and looked directly into your eyes, as if that would confirm your previous statement. "Are you really that surprised?" You asked. "You're really handsome and you have the type of personality that I find most attractive."

"Tsundere?" He joked.

"No. You're honest." You admitted, "You're not like the rest of them, who only see dollar signs when they see me. You've roasted my ass multiple times in class and I wouldn't have it any other way. You say the truth and don't sugar-coat your words for anyone."

"I like you." You simply stated. You watched the words seem to finally reach something in his mind and at this point he seemed to panic. He pulled his hand away and you did not hide your outward hurt. Shirabu made a lame excuse and quickly packed up his stuff to leave.

You never felt more sad and alone.

XXXXX

Shirabu was freaking the fuck out. He wanted someone to notice him and it had to be you??? You were beautiful and nearly perfect in every way. Your beauty went beyond the physical level and you were blessed with intelligence and an even greater family tree.

None of this mattered to him before. You were his friend and classmate and probably the one person in class who did not endlessly irritate him. How could you possibly have feelings for him? He didn't deserve you, not a bit. He had an endless list of faults, including his knowingly sarcastic personality, and you were the friendliest person in school! No way. You could be happier with literally anyone else.

He could not deny all your positive traits, even though he made an effort to ridicule you. You were an overall amazing person and he could not deny his latent crush on you. But he had squashed it since your friendship was mostly comprised of friendly banter. You could never have feelings for him, he previously thought. So he would rather treasure your friendship and watch you from the sideline.

However, Shirabu had to admit that it was a dick move of him just to leave you there after your confession. He was usually the type to speak his mind and your feelings must have blinded his brain. He set-out to clear the air and admit why.

In class the next day, you were nowhere to be found and refused to respond to calls and texts. Seeing you so affected, Shirabu could not help but feel like a huge ass. He owed you big-time, but he had to start somewhere: an apology. Shirabu had to clear the air and make it known that he appreciated your affections, even if he had to deny them. He was not above annoying you and did such continually.

Knocking on your dorm room, he showed up right at your front door.

Shirabu heard movement inside, but not closer to the door. He called your phone again and heard the ringtone go off from within, just for you to mute it. He knocked about eleven more times before you opened the door.

"What do you want?!" You asked as you swung the door open with full force.

"To clear the misunderstanding, (F/N)."

"God, you are so annoying. Did you know that?"

"You are too. Now hear me out, you crazy."

"Excuse me?!"

"Please." You sighed and moved aside for him to enter and he did such. He uncharacteristically took your hand and guided you to sit-down on your bed.

He paused, as if to fully think about his words, before sitting next to you. "You need someone who has time for you."

"What?"

"I'll be the captain soon and I do not want to disappoint anyone. I'll be busy and unable to be the proper boyfriend."

"Is that your only complaint to this relationship?"

"No."

"What else?"

"You deserve someone who can make you happy."

You gave a small laughed and asked, "Who says you don't already make me happy?"

He stared at your for a moment before asking, "What?"

"I don't want someone who you think will make me happier with kind words or bullshit. I want someone honest." You candidly admitted, "And we are friends already. I know you're dedicated to volleyball and I don't want that to change. I already know how you are and that’s why I like you more than anyone else. You alone can make me happy. For someone smart, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sputtered, unable to give a cohesive reply and for once you saw be great Shirabu struggle over his usually articulate words.

"Wait." You realized that he had multiple complaints about this relationship before you interrupted him. "Just be straight with me. Do you have feelings for me?"

It was at this moment that Shirabu had the clearest view of you. You were in the closest proximity than ever before, sharing a seat on your bed! He could gaze clearly into your eyes and sense the distress and vulnerability from your previous words. He stretched the silence and you took that as a rejection. He immediately rectified the situation by grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss at the top.

"I never thought you were interested in me." He admitted, "I thought I was deep in the friend zone. So I would have rather kept your friendship than risked ruining it."

"You're an idiot." You smiled grabbing his wrist to pull him closer. He obliged and allowed you to place a light kiss on his cheek.

"Now will you be my boyfriend or will I have to convince you?" You whispered in his ear to tease him and could literally see the shiver go down his back as he stiffened.

When you pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded and you silently wondered if his dominant attitude translated romantically.

You didn't have to wonder long since he returned the favor and went even further, nibbling your ear lightly before placing butterfly kisses around your neck. "Maybe you'll have to convince me."

You laughed before wrapping your arms around his neck, quickly taking command and enveloping his lips against your's. However, you did not have it for long and the setter was quick to flip the positions and hover over you. He gave one his rare smiles and you felt one breaking out across you'rs, stretching from ear to ear. Shirabu, who was in no rush, descended back down to your silky lips - noses bumping and hands fisting into each other's hair. His grip was firm, but not tight enough to hurt. You moaned, unintentionally, and he took that as an invitation to lick the entrance to your cavern. You parted your lips quickly, eager to feel his tongue against yours. The rest of the day went by ignored, the two of you enveloped in each other's affection with not a single care in the world.

[doodledrawsthings]

Oh The Humanity! AU  Masterpost

Hi! Making a masterpost for this AHiT AU so y’all have one place to just find all the important bits that I and other folks in the fandom have done for this AU! Everything will be under the read more

AU Premise: Snatcher steals a time piece from Hat Kid and Bow Kid to mess with them. He tries to use it during one of the Death Wish fights, but turns out the particular time piece he stole was faulty/ something was up with it/ he broke it in a weird way that really messed it up. Because of this, when he broke the piece, instead of rewinding time back a few minutes, it sent his form back about 300 years, returning him to human form, but with all his present memories. Now, he’s stuck as a human as and has to wait for the Time Traveling Alien Kids to fix the time piece and return him to normal, while also being forced to confront his past.

You can find most of this in the tag #oth!au. I will also be updating this as new stuff gets added or if I find that I’ve missed something. Let me know if there’s something I missed that you’d like me to add, cuz boy howdy i didnt realize how much is stuffed into this AU, and I dont remember what I’ve already said and what I’m saving for future stuff:

Significant Events in the Main Timeline story (these are kind of in order and kind of not. There’s more to be added, just not yet):

this au has a bunch of different endings thanks to the lovely ahit fandom’s contributions.

This all happens sometime after This comic. So, by the time OTH!AU happens, Moon and Snatcher are at least on“awkward acquaintance” terms with eachother and snatcher is trying to be nicer to him. He’s still got his moments of being rude and snappy tho, but thats just because he’s snatcher.

The first actual post i made In regards to this AU+ @positive-polygons​ comic interpretation of the beginning of the AU. He breaks a weird time piece he stole and he reverse ages back to being alive again. : Link Link1 Link2 Link3

Snatcher asks moonjumper to watch over Subcon while he’s stuck like this Link

Bow takes him to Nyakuza Metro to get new clothes. He trashes the Prince get-up as soon as possible. Link

Arctic Cruise Arc Link1 Link2 Link3 Link4

Some comics, they learn his name is luka at some point

Moonjumper is taking care of Subcon. They do things way differently than snatcher but they’re trying their best. 

Cooking Cat comes by to cook and help out. She’s very motherly to everyone. She’s taken Mu on as an apprentice, so she’s usually there with her whenever she drops by.

The birds are wrapping up a collab movie. The main cast are invited to the premier party, as Hat and Bow acted in the film. Snatcher gets to wear a nice suit and he has some interaction with the conductor and grooves. Link Link

at multiple points, MJ checks in with snatcher for status reports on how subcon is doing. This is usually where their bonding moments happen and they become less and less awkward with each interaction.

At some point around mid to late story, they find out that Subcon is starting to freeze over again. Snatcher was the only one who could melt the ice so this now gives them a time limit.

The Mirror incident Link Link  second fic by @greentrickster​

as snatcher gets along with the kids more, they remake his mailman hat so he can use badges and equip him with his own umbrella. Link Link

at some point snatcher realizes he doesn’t wanna go back to being a ghost.

Main-timeline ending is a Boss battle with Vanessa. Link

General Headcanons:

Almost everything you need to know about moonjumper and the prince and vanessa’s relationship Link

Snatcher and Vanessa have known eachother since they were kids. Their marriage was arranged, but they were good friends

OTH! Snatcher is aroace 

about snatcher’s feelings on defeating vanessa (*human!/final boss vanessa ending) Link1 Link2

This fic has a really good interpretation of the horizon that I’ve pretty much adopted, myself. Link

regarding snatcher’s expression of empathy and emotion both as a human and as a ghost Link1

Snatcher gradually takes on a fatherly role towards the girls. He is constantly trying to deny it as he comes to realize it but eventually accepts it. 

he’s actually pretty graceful with the umbrella  Link Link

Hat kid’s a good leader, but she can often be reckless and stubborn. Significantly more chaotic of the two space gremlins. She’s a lot like snatcher in a lot of ways, and because of that they are constantly butting heads but they get along better as Snatcher both gets used to being human and grows fonder of the two girls. She’s a bit closer to Snatcher, having been the most adamant about being his friend (initially out of spite but yknow) and they have a lot in common. 

People frequently mistake snatcher for being Hat Kid and Bow Kid’s visiting father. They usually comment on how much he looks like he could be HK’s biological dad. Both are in denial of this throughout the main timeline of this au. It’s a running gag. Link

snatcher is sometimes completely oblivious when he enters Dad Mode sometimes

Bow, on the other hand is generally a bit more shy and careful than hat kid is. She tends to take the passenger seat, taking on a more supportive role. She’s also way more polite. In this sense, she has more in common with moonjumper, and gets along with them quite well and she frequently goes to visit him the most often, on her own.

 Her and snatcher’s relationship kind of parallels snatcher’s relationship with MJ. Snatcher, having once been a big jerk to these kids, is now trying to teach bow to take more of a leading role and be more confident.

as this au takes place not long after the Clearing Incident comic, Snatcher and MJ’s relationship is a bit awkward in the beginning. Over the course of the AU their relationship would build up to be more brotherly.

the subconites like moonjumper but they miss their boss. MJ spoils them tho, which they appreciate and occasionally take advantage of Link Link

moonjumper learns to stand up for himself, snatcher learns to be more vulnerable

moonjumper is the badgeseller. Only hat, bow, and snatcher know this. 

snatcher very much enjoys feeling warm, its one of few saving graces he clings too in the stressful early part of the story.

snatcher doesnt like looking at himself in this AU. He’s very self-conscious about his “pathetic human body.” He doesn’t like being pitied and he doesnt like being seen as weak.

snatcher frequently has nightmares about his past.

after recieving the mailman hat, people start refering to him as The Mailman. Link

his voice frequently cracks a lot, especially in the beginning, since he keeps trying to use his Loud Ghost Voice, which can do a number on human vocal chords. Link

the kids bully him constantly Link Link Link

his arc is that he learns that it’s ok to be human and it’s ok to be vulnerable and to open up to people, and he learns to accept his past and who he used to be

the girls accidentally call him dad sometimes, which freaks him out at first, but he gets used to it eventually. Link

he adopts them, for sure, it just happens post- whatever ending.

beard. Link

Spin-off AUs, Alt Endings, and Fanfics, Oh My!:

That ending where habijob kills moonjumper  Moonjumper goes to fight Vanessa, alone. In one version they win, and in another, they lose, and snatcher has to return to ghost form to retrieve them from the horizon. by @habijob  Link Link Link 

From The Horizon fic by @greentrickster Link

@lindendragon‘s hypothetical endings where snatcher is captured by vanessa Link Link

@fedoraspooky‘s spinoff au where the timepiece takes him back even further and turns him into a kid Link Link

@positive-polygons‘s Vanessa Spinoff Link

@doodleimprovement‘s Royal ending Link

@erekiosuncreativeideas​‘s fanfic, Being Human, her version of the au’s story in chronological order starting from when he breaks the timepiece Link

@lemonadesoda​’s Fanfic series, And I Don’t Think You Hate This As Much As You Wish You Did, fills in and expands upon the ideas in  my comics for the AU Link

[mari-beau]

PARTNERS - A Rogue One Fanfiction

Written for Cassian Appreciation Week 2021 Day 4: Alliance Intelligence

(I know I missed Cassian Appreciation Week entirely with this one, but it got a little more out of hand than the quick scene tags and etc. Actually, tumblr posting etiquette question: At what point is a fanfic considered too long to post directly and should be hosted elsewhere and linked to? Or is inserting a ‘keep reading’ break enough?)

Title: Partners

Characters: Cassian Andor POV; Jyn Erso, Draven

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn

Words: 2633

Setting: Post-Rogue One, Canon-divergent (in that Cassian & Jyn live)

Summary: Cassian receives his first assignment for Alliance Intelligence after recovering from his Scarif injuries, but something is amiss with Jyn Erso. And something is gnawing at him as well...

Spoilers: Rogue One

Warnings: Our heroes have a little bit of PTSD/Separation Anxiety; Also it’s in a layered/nonlinear narrative format, which hopefully is clear/works.

“Where?” she asked. Was there a desperate edge to Jyn’s voice? Or did he just want there to be?

“You know I can’t tell you where.”

Cassian thought she would at least roll her eyes, if not spout sardonic criticism of Alliance Intelligence not even trusting their own people, not trusting those rebels who’d sacrificed everything for the Cause. But she surprisingly remained silent, pursing her lips and giving a little shake of her head.

“Are you allowed to tell me how long you’ll-” She swallowed, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “You’ll be gone?”

“I’m not sure.” Cassian wanted to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but he’d never seen her look so fragile, and he was afraid a single touch might shatter her.

“Okay.” Her response was clipped, even for her, and she just nodded her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’ll be back, Jyn,” he said. And maybe he’d never actually said it outright, but maybe she needed to hear it. “I’ll never leave you behind.”

Again, she only nodded her head, repeating “Okay.”

He gave into the urge, placed a hand on her biceps and stroked her arm through the layers of her thick thermal jumpsuit.

“Are you-” he tried to ask her whether she was feeling okay, but she shrugged his hand off and bolted, leaving him to watch her fleeing back as she disappeared down an icy corridor, blinking in surprise.

…

Earlier…

“Medical informs me you’re cleared for active duty, Captain Andor.” Draven managed to make it both a statement and a question. Of course he was the head of Intelligence, a spy to his very core, working in vagaries. Except when he issued orders. Those were always clear.

“Yes, sir.” Cassian tried to stand at full attention, but the stance honestly put a little too much pressure on his bad leg. If it was just the artificial hip, he’d probably be sprier than he’d been before. But the deep tissue damage was going to take awhile, if he ever did regain the full musculature in his leg, the tendons and ligaments would never be the same. The fractures in his vertebrae and ribs had thankfully knitted back up and neither bothered him too badly. Even with the unrelenting cold of Hoth.

“I have your next assignment.”

Cassian nodded, accepting the datapad with mission specifics. He gave it a cursory glance.

Deep cover.

“Is this a solo mission?” he asked, but pretended to continue to study the information rather than risk revealing his insecurities to his commanding officer. “Or am I going to need a team?”

Maybe just a partner?

“It has to be you,” Draven said. “And only you. They’re your connections. Well, one of your alias’ connections.”

The older man hesitated, not dismissing Cassian, not continuing with the briefing, just standing, waiting. Cassian mustered the best impassive face he could before meeting his commanding officer’s gaze.

“You’re still one of the best agents we have, Andor.”

Cassian nodded his head in silent acceptance of the reassurance.

“When do you need me to leave?” he asked.

“Whenever you’re comfortable enough with the mission brief. But the sooner, the better.” Draven was still studying him intently, with more scrutiny than Cassian had even faced as an undercover spy. “You know where to find me if you have any follow up questions.”

“Yes, sir,” Cassian said, recognizing his dismissal.

Something twisted deep in his chest as he walked away.

He needed to find Jyn and tell her he’d be leaving.

…

That Day on the Beach of Scarif…

“Look.”

It sounded like Jyn’s voice. Was there an afterlife, then? And could Cassian have somehow been lucky enough to be with her there?

No. No, that couldn’t be the case. There was too much pain. If he no longer had a body, then why did it hurt in the way physical flesh only could?

“Cassian!” Jyn’s voice was more urgent and she was squirming in his arms, her hands tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. “What is that?”

He forced his eyes open. It was bright. So bright. Why was she confused? It was Death.

No. No, it wasn’t?

He squinted, blinking his eyes as he looked off toward the ocean, well, where the ocean had been, where the wall of destruction had… stopped?

Jyn looked at him in wide-eyed amazement. “Is that a-”

“Shield,” Cassian gasped, in utter shock himself. “The Empire must have installed an emergency shield to protect the facility.”

“How long?” Jyn was breathing hard, already scrambling to her feet.

“Against that blastwave? Not long,” Cassian said. “Maybe it has dispersed some of the explosive force already but…”

“Come on.” Jyn was standing, leaning down to tug at his arms. He felt like he was ten times the weight he’d ever been on any planet.

“There’s not a lot of time,” he said, hoping she’d understand.

“Which is why you need to move your ass.” Jyn squatted in front of him instead, shoving her arms under his armpits and basically hugging him, she tried hauling him to his feet, but he was dead weight. He hissed with overwhelming pain that was practically blinding, his legs refusing to function. They collapsed back to the sand in a heap.

Jyn got back up, wincing and holding her injured shoulder before she renewed her attempts to get Cassian onto his feet.

It was a herculean effort for his weary body, but he managed to grab her arm.

“Listen to me, Jyn.” She locked eyes with him, and the desperation and pain he found there stabbed him in the chest, hurting worse than his aching ribs. “You have to go. You have to leave me behind. There’s got to be others still alive out there. Find them, get off Scarif. Leave me here. It’s okay. I want you to leave me. Do you understand?”

“No,” she said. There was a ferocious passion in the depths of her eyes, the green gone all steel grey. Any argument he could possibly make, any plea for her to save herself would not be tolerated.

“You listen to me, Cassian Andor.” Her hands captured his face. Her fierceness took away what little breath he had. “We live together. Or we die together.”

This time when she grabbed him, somehow her small body managed to haul him up, maybe she’d somehow given him some of her strength, some of her unrelenting determination, because his legs held... mostly.

…

Present

Cassian found Jyn hiding in a storage room, sitting on a crate with her hands on her knees, doubled over, breathing in big, sobbing gulps of air. He could only stand there and stare in complete shock. Not even on the beach that day had he ever seen Jyn Erso so… such an emotional mess. Angry. Passionate. Vulnerable. Yes. All those things he had seen in her eyes. But this sort of tangible, physical reaction? It was jarring to witness.

And he hesitated. Never hesitate. It could cost lives, the lives of others, your own.

Rushing to her side, he dropped to his knees beside her, the hard ice floor’s impact mitigated by his thick thermal pants.

“Jyn, what is it? What’s wrong? Should I find a medic?”

He placed a hand on her leg, tried to get her to look at him, but she turned away, her breathing still disturbingly uneven, like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

“N-no,” she choked out. “Just- Just give me a m-minute.”

“Okay,” he said. “But I’m right here. If you need anything, I’m here.”

A sob escaped her, and then she gasped, continuing to struggle to breath, hyperventilating. Cassian just remained there, kneeling beside her, a previously unfamiliar agony tearing at him, watching Jyn suffer whatever it was she was enduring and unable to help her. But he’d stay there, by her side, forever, if she needed him to.

Her breathing gradually grew placid until she was taking deep, regulated draughts of air. And then those determined breaths evened out as well until she was finally breathing normally. And still he waited.

Jyn swore, wiping at her face before she turned to him, and oh, force, her cheeks were raw-looking with tear tracks staining her skin. There were dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. As if she’d been awake, hunted, for a week. How did that happen in just half an hour or so?

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Cassian asked. He wanted to know, needed to know, so, “Maybe I can help.”

She nodded but her eyes were bright, welling up with tears. This was Jyn Erso. It took a lot to make the woman cry.

“What is responsible for this? Did someone hurt you?” Cassian could hear his own accent thickening but didn’t care, becoming too agitated to focus on proper Basic pronunciations.

Jyn shook her head but said, “No. Yes… I… fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“What is it, querida?” He took her hand and when she didn’t pull away, squeezed it, caressed her bare palm with his thumb, noting that her skin was getting cold and he should get her back closer to the core of the base where the temperature was more bearable. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

She nodded. And again, Cassian was struck by how vulnerable the woman was. She always had a deeply hurt portion of her soul, but she seemed incapable of letting it show, even to him. It wasn’t deluding himself, or an over-exaggeration. Cassian knew that her friendship with him was different than any other she’d had in her life. It was the same for him. They finally had someone they could trust wholeheartedly.

But he still held his breath, waiting for her to bestow that trust once again.

She looked down at her hands in his, then to his face, her weary eyes holding his gaze, searching for something.

“You haven’t realized it, yet, have you?” she asked. Cassian’s heart beat faster. Realized what? “Until your Intelligence briefing this morning, we hadn’t been more than an arm’s length apart since Scarif. And force, I’m having a fucking panic attack just at the thought of being separated from you. How ridiculous is that?”

Cassian’s mouth had gone dry. He swallowed and wet his lips before he could even contemplate speaking.

“It’s not ridiculous, Jyn.” Maybe he hadn’t realized why, but that uneasy feeling had been twisting his insides since he’d first left for his briefing. And now, now he couldn’t deny its cause.

Because Jyn was right. She’d basically dragged him bodily out of that massacre, off that cursed planet, held him as he drifted in and out of consciousness until he’d blacked out entirely, to wake up in the infirmary on Yavin 4 with Jyn sitting at his bedside, arms folded on the edge of his cot, supporting her head as she slept. And from there, she had been with him his entire recovery. She refused to leave the room when medical staff or droids checked on him, only turning her back to give him privacy. He hadn’t complained. He hadn’t objected. Even when she set up a bedroll in the corner of his quarters when he’d been released from the infirmary. Even when she wordlessly climbed into his bed to soothe his fitful, painful sleep, even when she helped him dress. And shower. And limp down the corridors to exercise his injured leg. And after he was basically as recovered as he was going to get, she stayed. Always by his side.

The memory that would always forever be seared into his existence slapped him in the face.

“We live together. Or we die together,” he whispered.

Jyn’s pupils dilated, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his.

“I meant it,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t think…”

Her hand reflexively clutched at the front of her thermal jumpsuit, seeking the only possession she cared about, the only thing she had left of her mother, her father, the only thing she had that was her own, special. But hadn’t she realized?

She had him.

Cassian took a risk, slid his fingertips over her cheek, which was soft and smooth and warm against his doubtless chilled fingers. But she didn’t flinch from his cool touch. Rather, she leaned into his palm as he cupped her face.

“I know,” he said. And he did know, could see the knowledge of it in her eyes, as well. He didn’t much believe in the Force, and despite the kyber crystal perpetually around Jyn’s neck, she had had a hard life, was a survivor, with a practicality that ran so deep it had taken him, a heartless assassin to make her believe in hope again.

Sometimes, though… Okay, often, he felt like that blastwave had swept them away, disintegrated them on the submolecular level. And then somehow they’d reformed. But their atoms had been mixed up, and he was as much composed of her stardust as his own, and she of his.

It was fanciful. And completely unlike Cassian. The Before Cassian. But now, it was absolutely the way he felt. It was foolish to deny it. And from the way Jyn was looking at him...

He leaned in, his nose brushing hers, his lips feathering over hers as he hesitated, waited for any signal from her, acceptance, invitation, or rejection.

It was an exquisite, agonizing eternity.

But then Jyn sucked in a sharp breath, one of her small yet strong hands grabbing the front of his coat, the other the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. She pulled him into her, her mouth crashing against, hard and hot, and needy. Aggressive and tender at the same time. An inextricable mess. It was how they were. It was who they were.

It was perfect.

…

A little bit later...

“You have concerns regarding the mission, Captain Andor?”

Cassian had managed to catch General Draven in the rare moment where the man was actually in his office, sitting at his desk, reviewing… who knew what… intelligence, battle plans… food reserves…

“I do, sir.”

Draven looked up. Cassian had never questioned an assignment before. He’d always been such a good little soldier-spy. Even though it had been costing him his very soul.

Still, even with the feeling of Jyn’s kisses freshly on his lips, the presence of her burned into his entire being, questioning orders made him nervous. Almost as nervous as allowing himself to have wants, a sense of self beyond what the Alliance had given him.

“Well, what is it, captain?”

“I need a partner.”

Draven frowned in thought. “If I recall… the assignment is best suited for a single operative.”

Cassian swallowed but looked his commanding officer straight in the eye. “Then I won’t be taking this assignment. Or any others for Alliance Intelligence. Not unless I can work with a partner.”

Draven stood, did a quick pace behind his desk before he fixed Cassian with a hard stare. “You would desert the Alliance over Jyn Erso?”

Cassian wet his lips. Revealing such personal, emotional aspects to himself was… entirely against his nature. Jyn did not count. She was simply an extension of himself.

“I would choose her.” Cassian held the man’s war-weary, hardened gaze that still somehow seemed to have an iota of softness about the edges. “I have chosen her.”

We live together. Or we die together.

“She’s my partner.”

Draven sighed, but inclined his head.

“I’ll update the rosters. Make whatever alterations to the mission outline you view fit.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t know if you should be thanking me, Andor,” Draven said, but an elusive smirk flitted across his face.

Cassian did not hide his smile as he left, to find Jyn, and to tell her she was the newest member of the Alliance Intelligence unit.

[daylighteclipsed]

Ok I haven't watched Naruto in years but your tags are pure gold

Honestly one of the biggest problems in Naruto is that the setting is SO FULL OF POTENTIAL! And the crafting of the story is popular for a reason, the Zabuza arc is so emotional and the whole "children being forced to wage war needs to stop" is such a central & repeated theme

BUT THEN it's slowly revealed that the third Hokage has completely betrayed the whole reason the village was formed! But he's still shown as the good guy? And that the wars just became bigger after the villages were formed and they STILL used child soldiers?!! After the whole "no burying younger siblings"!?! There was no international agreement between villages like "hey, the minimum age requirement for soldiers is at least 18"

Like. What

Tbh as a narrative choice I find it okay to keep repeating the same message many times to hammer in the point, which in this instance is "don't make children fight in wars" and all the things you said about generational differences and protecting kids from trauma. After all, it's not easy to build a good society and changes often are gradual, where the next generation has more resources to make better choices.

But my issue is that the problem(s) should be SOLVED at the end of the story, and that the future is better, that this generation finally managed to fix some big issues, like idk, the treatment of orphans in the society?

I don't know anything about Boruto, I don't know if the villages were ever like "oh yeah this whole trapping tailed beasts is dangerous & unethical af & btw there are actual adults making sure orphans aren't kidnapped" etc. because at some point I was just like "I don't enjoy this anymore" so I just read fix it -fics about Naruto nowadays

But from what I've understood of the ending, it... didn't really feel like the sacrifices of characters like Itachi, Haku & Neji were appreciated in the story.

Instead the ending was rushed to make way for Boruto and that's a bit... :/

Anon, that’s A LOT :////////// or more accurately 😤😤😤😤😤😤🤬🤬🤬

I think I’ve said this before, but I don’t even need to see that the future is better. I just need to see that the characters are working to make it better. I need to know that the process is underway because, yeah, realistically major changes take a long time to happen. Decades upon decades upon decades… So it’s fine if I don’t see the future. I’m fine with an open, hopeful ending, like a rainbow at the end of a rain storm, because it means the sun is coming out.

I don’t watch Boruto. But I know Team Taka works for Orochimaru again, I know Orochimaru still experiments on humans, I know Team 7 is miserable, I know their kids are child soldiers and the Kage structure is still in place, and the Shinobi system is still in place, and Naruto did NOTHING to help the Hidden Rain Village… And that is all I need to know. None of the major problems from the og series are solved or respected. But Naruto achieves his misguided childhood dream of becoming the general of a fascist military state. Yay.

The world of Naruto has so much potential. The characters, the setting… Land of Waves sets the bar so high. Because the world opens up. For a moment, there’s more than ninjas. There’s people who have never met ninjas, know nothing about them, and the hidden villages are actually hidden. For our child protagonists, there is suddenly something else. A whole different way of life. A whole different world that they’re not part of. To the “civilian” world, they hardly exist.

And a whole different attitude. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura were raised to think Shinobi are undeniably good. Shinobi are heroes, and all the harsh rules and training are normal. But then, the bridge builder is horrified by their way of life. Haku and Zabuza reveal a very ugly side to Shinobi. To become a Shinobi is to become a killer, to sacrifice your humanity for a dictator who doesn’t care about you as a person. You’re not a person. You’re a tool. You are useful, or you are nothing.

And if you’ll notice in that arc, none of Team 7’s Shinobi skills help them save the day. Following the Shinobi way only makes the situation worse, only results in Sasuke injured and Haku dead. One of the cardinal rules is to never show weakness, and Naruto saves the day by breaking that rule, by crying. For someone he doesn’t know and a world that doesn’t care and a way of life he now fears will cost his heart. Zabuza defeats Gato (who literally parallels the Kages) by rejecting the Shinobi way and embracing his humanity. His heart.

Team 7 doesn’t defeat Gato’s bandits. Not in battle. None of the kids shed blood. It’s not their willingness to fight and kill, but to stand up and defend, to die protecting, this town that inspires all the townies to defend themselves. The town runs the bandits out. All Team 7 does is give them hope.

Land of Waves also introduces the existence of widespread oppression through Haku’s character. Naruto thought that he was the only one suffering because of power he never asked for, but there are more people, entire clans, that have been oppressed and exterminated because of their Kekkei Genkai.

So the world opens up and a plot starts forming. Land of Waves says okay, here’s what this story is really about, and the arc concludes with Team 7 questioning the Shinobi way and Naruto especially realizing that “real” missions are not very fun. Naruto hasn’t given up wanting to be a ninja, but the rose-tinted glasses have faded. So shaken is he by this experience, he declares he will follow his own moral code unlike the ninjas of old. He will not lose his heart.

And then… then it’s like this entire arc never happened. The next episode opens with Naruto repeating his words from before Land of Waves, about wanting to go on a “real” mission. We’re ushered into the chunnin exams where suddenly lots of kids have unique abilities like Sasuke’s sharingan and Haku’s ice jutsu, and Kakashi’s emphasis on valuing teammates before the mission is no longer an unorthodox take. Neji and Gaara’s characters, at least, keep the themes of oppression and child abuse/trauma in mind. But it’s jarring how Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura do not question anything after everything they’ve seen.

They don’t think, hey, having to fight and kill our classmates to graduate to chunnin is pretty fucked up. Especially after learning that Zabuza had to do that to graduate to genin in his village. And, maybe our village isn’t so great either. Naruto, who heard the entirety of Haku’s story, who was horrified by Zabuza’s heartlessness, never thinks, why am I being encouraged to fight and kill these other kids? They’re kids, like I am. Like Haku was. Naruto, who is scared of becoming cold-hearted, never thinks, this feels wrong. I don’t like this. ??

Apparently not. I guess it wouldn’t be very shonen of the main character to decide fighting to prove your strength is kind of bad actually. But then, maybe there shouldn’t have been an arc before this highlighting how tragic battle is. Maybe they shouldn’t have had the main character say, “There are other ways of showing your strength than just by beating someone in battle.” Maybe they should’ve saved that for after the child gladiator fights.

Anyway, I didn’t even get to the generational trauma here, but this is all a long-winded way of saying I completely agree with you. I’d be more willing to forgive the shoddy writing throughout the series if the ending had the characters acknowledging and tackling any of the systemic or societal issues that led to their suffering and the hellish world they live in, but that doesn’t happen.