#training in a time of peace (haunted by your rageful self)

[toasterdrake]

if i have one blorbo true to the meaning of the word (middle-aged angry pathetic sexyman) it is ezio auditore

yeah his bracer would be more effective on his sword arm considering the buckler is already protecting his arm... but that was his outfit model and i wanted to draw it and and and uh symbolism

[lostinforestbound]

What's that? More Dark!Rolan on the horizon?? Here we are! (As always, this is based of @slumpsnail's art and is also my main inspiration!) This is a prequel to my first Dark!Rolan post!

Death of a Master

CW: Physical Abuse, Intrusive Thoughts (Gore, Eye trauma, Killing), Acting upon Intrusive Thought

His eyes are wide and teary as his chest heaves, trying to catch breaths that don’t quite come. It hurts to breathe, the strike from Lorroakan’s staff almost breaking his ribs. His master is careful, coldly calculating each strike to make sure nothing will break but make it hurt all the same, to make him writhe on the floor.

If Cal and Lia were still alive and able to witness this, what would they say? What would his mother say? That he’s pathetic, letting himself be treated like an unwanted dog? No, they were always kinder than that, even when he didn't deserve it.

He’s too scared to cry out for help. He's too prideful. It would only lead to another strike either way.

Usually he can grit through the sessions, grind his teeth and say nothing. His motivation is fueled by stubbornness, spite, and rage. But gods, Lorroakan might kill him this time, especially if he casts detect thoughts again.

He’s been having dreams of killing him in different ways. Drowning, tearing out his organs, setting him ablaze, choking him; his imagination knows no bounds. Last night, his dream self gouged his eyes out, digging his claws into the sockets until he stopped screaming. These wayward, unwanted thoughts were haunting him as he walked, nipping at the edges of his mind when he least suspected it. He’s becoming terrified of himself, and he has no one to confide in. When did he become so comfortable with the thought of killing someone?

When he wakes, he always hopes that Lorroakan died in his sleep. Maybe then he would have peace. When his mentor uses a Command Spell on him to make him kneel, he hopes the animated armor who stands guard strikes him through the heart.

The weave crackles, and he recognizes the detect thoughts spell trying to reach to the deepest parts of his mind. Like a fool, he mentally blocks it out with a grimace.

That was the worst mistake he’s made thus far.

“You dare resist me?” Lorroakan spits as Rolan shakily gets to his knees, wanting to run.

“Master, forgive me-“ He gasps, but is cut off with a harsh hit to the jaw by the metal staff, sending him back down to the ground. As always, nothing is broken, but hells, it hurts.

Blood spittles out from his mouth and into the floor, knowing better than trying to stand. If Lorroakan sees him trying to get back up, he’ll hit him again. Part of him hoped that someone would walk in and interrupt, giving him a small break to regroup himself.

No one will help him. When has anybody ever?

He’s going to die here. Pathetic and alone with no one that will miss him when he’s gone. Another failed apprentice, another nameless wizard. What has he done so wrong in a past life that resulted in being tortured in this one? Why wouldn’t the gods listen to him when he prayed for his siblings safety, so long ago? What have Cal and Lia ever done that they deserved to be turned into shadows?

So many questions are left unanswered, and he’s nothing but a shaking mess. Usually he shook from anger, though in the face of death, fear clasped around his throat, threatening to choke him.

“All you ever ask for is forgiveness. Maybe if you done right by me for once in your useless life, you would not have to ask for it, Tiefling.” Lorroakan sneers, hovering over him.

“Forgive me, Master.” He repeats, voice rasping.

The staff drags across the ground as he circles him. “There you are again! Forgive me this, forgive me that…you disgust me, do you know that? I don’t know why I decided to take you on as my apprentice.”

His tongue is useless as he tries to come up with a reason that he’s good enough. His spells are incredible, he knows that deep in his heart, but he needs training to perfect them. He hasn’t learned a damn thing yet because of these punishments.

The realization hits him like a falling boulder, making his ears ring. Lorroakan is never going to teach him anything. He’s only here to be a plaything. Someone he can beat to make himself feel superior, more powerful.

He’s been a fool, and he barely hears the “let’s try this again” from his teacher.

He cries out when the weave forcibly enters his mind, a splitting headache tearing through him that renders him speechless again. His master is not even trying to hide that he’s searching for something to leech onto. A cold chill rushes through him as he pins down a thought, heart nearly stopping.

There it was, a nightmare he could not hide as it was still fresh in his mind. Lorroakan, dead on the ground with his throat torn open.

Rolan is paralyzed, and he does not see the brief fear that flashes across Lorroakan’s face when he sees the image of his torn apart self.

“How dare you.”

He frantically crawls back, breathing harsh with his panic. “Master, I’m sorry-“

“How DARE you think of me in this way?! Ungrateful, pitiful bastard, you have learned nothing!”

The staff is being raised once more, and the weave unintentionally crackles around Rolan’s hands. “Master-!”

“I have wasted my time with you. I will think twice before gaining an apprentice again."

Lorroakan swings his staff, a grin on his face. He has every intent to kill him here with the way he aims for Rolan's temple. Without thinking, Rolan raises both his shaking hands to block it with a shield, but his manipulation of the weave senses his true intent. Electricity hums around his hands and-

Die.

There's a loud crack, and he hears the staff drop after a moment. Something wet coat parts of his face and hands. When the pain never comes, he slowly opens his eyes.

Blood. It coats his body and the floor. It's everywhere.

He steadies himself back to sitting on his feet, and there was his master, a gaping hole in his chest and choking on air.

Finally, Rolan’s body has stopped trembling.

(Next Part)

[vaelastormreaver]

All About Your Tav/Durge and Their Romantic Interest

I've been tagged! 🤣 Took me a few days, but I think I'm (semi) satisfied with what I wrote up for each question.

Only if you guys want to, of course, I nominate: @kyokazune, @thoughts-of-bear, and @lanafofana

~ Your Tav/Durge's Name and Their Partner ~

🧡 Vaela Stormreaver and Halsin Silverbough 💚 

~ Tell Us About Your Character - Anything at All! ~ 

Tiefling Barbarian Turned Folk Hero

Digital Photography by @aristenfromwarsaw

Vaela was born into a harsh, nomadic clan that revered Baphomet, the Horned King. From a young age, she was marked by the Demon Lord, who viewed her as a special vessel for his dark desires. His attention manifested as immense strength and a fierce fury that set her apart from her peers. In haunting dreams, Baphomet showered her with gifts, whispered secrets of warfare, and expressed a twisted affection that both enthralled and terrified her. This relationship was less about love and more about control; Baphomet sought to mold her into his loyal soldier and lover, a powerful weapon in his arsenal.

Her berserker rage first erupted during a brutal training session, where she witnessed her closest friend succumb to a savage beating. In that moment of despair and fury, her emotions spiraled out of control, leading her to unleash her wrath on the aggressor. The violent retribution she exacted left onlookers awestruck and fearful, cementing her reputation as the clan’s most powerful warrior—a living testament to Baphomet’s might. The clan leaders, recognizing her potential, wielded her as an instrument of terror, using her strength to lead devastating raids that instilled dread in their enemies.

As time passed and, despite the gifts Baphomet offered, Vaela never felt true loyalty to the Demon Lord. Instead, she was gripped by fear of his retribution—the consequences of denying his every whim loomed large in her mind. As she grew in strength, so too did the emotional manipulation that came with being his chosen. The weight of his expectations pressed heavily on her, creating a cycle of guilt and anxiety that drove her deeper into violence and chaos.

Yet beneath the surface, Vaela grappled with the implications of her bond with Baphomet. His twisted affection and grooming created an internal struggle between the dark power he bestowed and her own moral compass. The emotional turmoil mounted as she witnessed the impact of her clan's actions, particularly during a catastrophic raid on an innocent village aimed at securing resources. The horror of that day shattered her spirit, forcing her to confront the violence she had been complicit in.

It took immense strength for Vaela to fight against Baphomet's influence and ultimately escape her clan. Fortunately (or unfortunately?), a mind flayer tadpole that had been implanted in her nullified Baphomet's ability to speak to her through dreams, granting her the precious time she needed to devise her escape. This unexpected reprieve allowed her to reflect on her past, gather her resolve, and break free from the suffocating grip of the Horned King.

Now, Vaela's journey is one of redemption and self-liberation. She wrestles daily with her tempestuous emotions, striving to reclaim her identity from Baphomet’s shadow. Though she still possesses the formidable strength he granted her, she is determined to control her rage and ensure it doesn’t harm those she cherishes. Her path is fraught with challenges, but she seeks to sever the ties that bind her to the Horned King, yearning to find peace and forge a new life free from his distorted love.

~ What Do They Enjoy Doing Together? ~

Digital photography by @aristenfromwarsaw

Communing with nature. 

For Halsin — a druid — it’s a given. He was raised in nature, taught to cherish and care for it, so his love of the natural world comes easy and it brings him the utmost joy. 

For Vaela, nature — specifically a heavily wooded forest — simply means peace and quiet. It’s where she can calm the chaos of her mind, breathe in the fresh air, admire the beautiful wildlife, and forget the outside world.

It’s a simple pleasure, but one that, since childhood, had always brought her happiness. There’s very little in nature that Vaela doesn’t enjoy — from the tiny, wild mushrooms that grow in the ground, the tell-tale tracks of passing deer, to the bright green patterns of moss on the trunks of trees… how lucky she is to have found a partner that shares her interests. 

~ What's Something Your Character's Partner Loves About Them? ~

Digital photography by @aristenfromwarsaw

Halsin admires Vaela’s bravery and sense of justice. Though she’d likely argue against the “brave” part, he knows courage and true compassion when he sees it. He saw it the moment she stepped in to help him in the goblin dungeons and continued to witness it as he traveled with her to stop the Absolute. 

Everywhere they went, Vaela never turned away from those who asked for her aid (much to some of their companion’s annoyance). How refreshing, he thought, that someone (who was infected with a mind flayer’s tadpole and hunted by a Demon Lord, no less) would offer a hand in help and not ask for a reward in return…

Even if he would later come to find that guilt and regret from past misdeeds was what fueled her, he admired her nonetheless. After all, it’s easy to be cold, to shrink in to oneself after experiencing trauma, and backslide into bad habits. Facing your demons, standing up for those in need, and being kind? That takes courage.

~ Their Life After Baldur's Gate? ~

Digital photography by @aristenfromwarsaw

Vaela knew immediately after Halsin had professed his love for her that they would be walking the same path. 

After the Absolute had been defeated and they had found a way for her to be free of Baphomet, Vaela only remained in the city a short while to help with the aftermath. She wouldn’t stay for any celebration parades or receive any accolades that would dub her “the Savior of Baldur’s Gate”…her past still made her feel undeserving of such attention. Instead, she led any and all willing refugees to the now cured Shadow Cursed Lands to help Halsin build the safe haven they had both always dreamed of. 

And so months passed and the lovers began to see their labors come to fruition. The once ravaged lands now flourished and the peaceful community burgeoned beyond their wildest imagination. In this commune that Vaela helped rebuild, she could live the life she wanted: be with the man she loved so dearly and continue to help those in need. For Halsin, he could share his skills as a leader (but more so from the sidelines) and simultaneously fulfill his “dream of better”. 

Neither Vaela nor Halsin could have anticipated their lives to be so idyllic, but they cherished it nonetheless. In fact, a few years after, they’d have two beautiful children of their own — twins — Frankincense (Franky, for short) and Hyperion (also known as Rion).

~ Something Your Tav/Durge Loves About Their Partner? ~

Digital photography by @aristenfromwarsaw

Ask Vaela this directly and she’d tell you: “What isn’t there to love..?” But if you’re wanting one thing, it would be — without a shadow of a doubt — his kindness. 

Vaela knew Halsin was special the very day she met him. She saw in him someone she could trust implicitly, someone who had values, someone who had a deeply caring heart, and, even more surprisingly, someone who was in a position of power but was never one to exploit it. For these attributes alone, Vaela knew she had a strong ally on her side and, as a result, would also stop at nothing to keep him safe.

In the early days of their journey, Vaela took in whatever wisdom Halsin would impart in the hopes of bettering herself and finding some measure of peace in the sea of regret she battled with each day. As he offered his advice and lent a patient and non-judgmental ear to her whenever she needed it most, Vaela felt herself growing more and more fond of Halsin. 

Never had she encountered someone who felt so strongly in doing what was right nor someone who was so forgiving. To Vaela, Halsin was what she wanted to see from the world —someone she aspired to be. 

How funny then, that even with the time they had spent together traveling, sitting by the campfire, heads bent low in deep conversation by their tents, that Vaela would be caught off guard by his profession of love on that fateful moonlit night just outside of Baldur’s Gate. 

She had never taken the time to stop and realize the depth of her feelings for the druid. To be honest, she was always slow on the uptake on such things… But when he had pulled her aside to tell her that she had “cleared the fog” of his centuries long battle with guilt and obsession with putting an end to the Shadow Curse, every feeling she had for Halsin aligned and she realized that what she first thought to be friendly admiration was, in fact, deep love. 

~ Something that your character and their partner both hate (about anything) ~

Injustices. Full stop. 

Both Halsin and Vaela are deeply empathetic and, regardless of how many years they’ve lived, the atrocities of the world never ceases to baffle (and sadden) them.

[paintedscales]

MINDFULLNESS– Do they live in the moment? What keeps them present?

SELF-EFFICACY– Does the end justify the means? How to they approach their goals? Do they blame others for their own faults or admit them?

RESILIENCE– How do they handle loss or failure? What helps them stay resilient and bounce back from loss or failure?

Some for you! <3

Hihi, Pinxli! Thank you so much for the ask and all of the different options from that original post! \ o w o / Tackling this while I'm taking a short mental break from doing art. :'D Much appreciated for the distraction for sure!

Positive Psychology OC Ask Meme

MINDFULLNESS– Do they live in the moment? What keeps them present?

Nomin sure does do her best to! Though she's definitely more stuck in the past than she is looking ahead or in the present. I truly feel like the events of Endwalker, where these great things and securing safety happens, not to mention getting that much needed closure, really helps her get out of that mental cycle. Or at least, it certainly helps her pick herself up better to walk forward with her head held high.

When Nomin finally has all that sense of peace, she can finally kind of live for herself more than anyone else. She has it when she's on the island by herself, away from everyone. It helps her keep her mind and vision clear when she's creating a life for herself with Estinien as a part of it. She especially starts living more in the moment once the twins are born, and then when Hami is born.

SELF-EFFICACY– Does the end justify the means? How to they approach their goals? Do they blame others for their own faults or admit them?

I would say yes for Nomin, that the ends justifies the means -- especially when it comes to any pureblood Jhungid that is in her way at the time (and even if she ever runs into them again in the future). She doesn't care about the actions of individual Jhungid, they're all the same to her. Even in one of my writings that I had, her obsession with how much she hates them leads to introspective musings like this:

Khojin was actually relatively pleasant to speak with when she was not training with her spear. She left more of a positive impression on Nomin, though not enough to dispel her hatred of those in command within the orda. Khojin was a younger member who had taken the place of one of their parents that had been trusted by Harghasun prior when she came of age. Nomin sometimes wondered if they could have been friends were things different.

Nomin has a habit of blaming herself a lot for things that aren't her fault, and then lashing out when things crop up that remind her of her trauma.

As for approaching their goals. I've mentioned a lot how Esenaij haunts Nomin's narrative, and he does this until Endwalker. Like, he's always there, guiding some of her actions. His words always repeat in her head in certain scenarios.

Run.

You're too impatient; curb it.

You can't rely solely on mimicking my actions when it comes to fighting for yourself or for others. You have to take yourself into account when using your weapon.

So a lot of this tends to influence Nomin's approach to things unless she has been enraged. In which case, a lot of that goes out the window. She'll face her rage head on, she'll become impatient, and she'll forget sometimes to take herself into account when fighting. Because she's blind. Simple as that. Blinded by her own rage.

RESILIENCE– How do they handle loss or failure? What helps them stay resilient and bounce back from loss or failure?

Depends on how far Nomin fell and also if / how it affects the people around her.

Nomin's not easily consoled by words some of the time -- it's kind of a thing she took from the Qestir. "Words are air." Like, if she feels like people around her are in danger because of her, it brings her right back to how she felt when she left the Sagahl behind the first time after freeing them and herself from the Jhungid. In such cases, she needs to start believing that she is enough and pick herself back up on her own time.

Sometimes this means turning her back on those she cares about in order to collect herself. Some belief that if she's out of the picture for however long, it means that the people she cares about will be the safer for it.

People stubbornly staying in Nomin's life has made this...hard. Haha. It's hard for her to feel like people want to stay in her life because of these ideas and views she has about herself that are all just internalized. Impostor syndrome. She doesn't feel like she deserves it, she has a hard time believing a lot of it is genuine for a time. Even if her Echo doesn't really indicate false intent in regards to those people.

But people staying in Nomin's life has also made it to where she can pick herself back up and do it not just for her, but for them as well. Especially once she starts accepting that they do care about her and want to see her succeed and be happy.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Readers: We want Red Xiao x Reader x Green Xiao content PLEASE

Exiled: Well yes but actually no

+

Intermittent

Pairing -> Red/Green Xiao x Reader

Word Count -> 2088

Themes -> Okay, get this: Fluff, Angst, Suggestive scene (but not too bad). It's a trifecta.

Series -> #SojournerSpecials (masterlist)

Credit: @m370N4 for Header

Warnings -> Spoilers, violence, oh gawd there's so many violence

Your lover is going through a phase.

Perhaps you should have expected this much after the things that he's gone through, and the things that he is going through. The Archon War does not pick its victims. Saints and sinners, weak and strong, participants and bystanders; they all have one thing in common, they all can die any day now as the war rages on.

The thought of impending doom puts your heart into great unease as your arms tighten, lips softly pecking the red diamond on the Yaksha's forehead as he sighs in what you hope was relief.

The adepti are strong and aid in this war under the stead of Rex Lapis, but on the forefront of greater danger leads the Yakshas. The fateful battle between Osial and the Geo Archon ended not too long ago to put an end against the Lord's destructive ministrations, but Gods do not die, only slumber; his hatred in great intensities brought forth demonic plague that now haunts the blood bathed lands of Liyue. With his indispensable power and contractual obligation, Xiao became one of the five known Yakshas devoted to conquering those evil.

You were no beast in the battlefield but alongside Cloud Retainer and Ganyu you hold well in ensuring the well-being of mankind, but you only wish there was anything you can do to help the true warriors of the Harbour.

"How are you feeling?" You ran your hands through his chopped hair as his body leans against you, still tense. Xiao produces a strangled groan upon the question, a sound you still have yet to grow accustomed to.

It was a side effect even the glorified Archon did not expect. Yet it was too late to back down from the duties, to turn away from the chaos.

"Still standing, nothing I cannot handle," leaning away from your hold, his honey eyes then sets upon yours in gentle reassurance. Exposed fingers softly brushing against your cheekbone reminiscent of a flutter, so light it sends your heart into a faster pace. "And on your end? I have heard of the mortals establishing a new type of governance, how is it faring?"

Xiao hooks his fingers under your chin in full attention, and the pairing with his tantalizing smile sent your mind melting. "It's going-," your cleared your throat of the strangled pitch you produced and tried again, "Going great! Ganyu made it her duty to oversee it as the secretary."

"That is a fine arrangement." He hums inquisitively but you both know his attention was on somewhere else, what with the way his sharp orbs kept flickering to gaze on your lips. And with how his face was slowly, surely drawing near.

"Indeed, indeed." Breathed you as you closed your eyes, ready to capture his lips for a longing kiss, his other hand rests on your lower back to guide you to his lap—

When the shutter doors slammed open, the interruption causing you to yelp as Xiao embarrassingly hides your head to his exposed chest. That did NOT lessen the warmth of your cheeks.

"Conqueror of Demons! I- I'm sorry to interrupt-"

"Pervases, go on."

"The Yaksha of flames-" A rumbling roar of a scream had all three of you shoot your heads up in alert. And within seconds you had scrambled to your feet, rushing out of the shrine to investigate the commotion. The atmosphere had you choking from the scent of arson, black smoke erupting from the burning grass and natural flora around the area.

But in the middle of the ruins had you almost dispelling the contents of your stomach, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth at the the sight. Besides you Xiao dashes past in a vain attempt to quell the flames— the lick of fire that burned the Pyro Yaksha whole, who screams in both agony and anguish over the deep unknown, skin and clothes turning black and charred.

Xiao's swings barely made a dent to the wall of fire that prevents anyone from coming close to the Yaksha. "Please, leave me alone! Let me go! Stop it!" There was an illusionary sense to her words as she screams at the empty void in front and within her, piercing and aching. You called for her name, shouted, in hopes that she may snap out of it.

Dried up tears came upon her ruby gaze as it flickers over to yours. She heard you. Her lips quivered into those of familiarity and she opens her mouth- only to scream her loudest, one last painful cry, as her body drops as a smoking corpse.

Charred and pure black. Twitching and steaming, but not alive.

You didn't realize you were crying until you felt the comfort of Xiao's hand wiping at your cheek, his red fingerless gloves catching the dampness as you released your sobs.

You didn't notice the gradual decrease of red in his clothing until you looked at him one day without feeling a pang on your chest. When you looked at him with only curiousity upon him calling your name, he offered a smile as he cups your cheek; it didn't feel like the same traumatic time when the Yaksha died, your cheek leaning on his cerulean palm.

It wasn't red. Maybe that's what drove away your thoughts.

"It looks good on you," you mumbled as you watched his now black and green hair sway from the breeze.

"Thank you."

The clouds of Jueyun Karst brings peace to all that gazes on it. That may be the reason why it was Menogias' favorite place to sit by upon finishing her duties for the day, and at times she invites you over when you are done with your own; 'your presence soothes me, it's unfair that Xiao gets to keep you to himself, even if he is your lover!' you giggle at the verbatim the Hydro Yaksha always spouts everytime she drags you away from the other, with a cute yet teasing pout on her pristine face.

Those moments always has you laughing guiltily as you wave to Xiao, who only dons a gentle smile at you two's dynamic.

But she was beautiful and elegant despite her slaughtering hands, with a mind vivid and witty.

And so you find peace next to her, as both of your hands weave cloth into apparels to calm your minds. She had always been an avid fan of stitching and knitting even her own clothes, the only reason you knew how to weave the needle was because of her incessant teachings. Right now she knits a sleeve of beautiful patterns while you took on the duty to make a wooly scarf. Jueyun Karst is cold.

"How are you faring, dear? I have heard you and Xiao-" your hands paused at the implications, "-were witness to the passing of the Yaksha Indarias. Changes are glaring among that of the Conqueror of Demons, but you are a special case who is not under the influence of the karmic binds."

Her cold blue gaze seem to pierce your soul unintentionally and you couldn't bring yourself to look upon them.

You gulped and ceased on finishing the blanket to look at her own work. It was pretty. Tiring and fearful, not just for yourself, but for her too. And especially Xiao.

She holds you close in a soft embrace as you poured your honest confessions; it felt unfair for them to suffer like this, driven to self-destruction or to eternal agony. Menogias strokes your hair affectionately as she reassures your worries.

After all, they knew their oath would come to this.

And they still honored their duties to protect Liyue, for both the mortals and the realm of the Adepti.

"H-How about you?" You sniffled, looking up at her now gentle gaze. "Have you been feeling well? I don't want you to be destroyed by your own mind too."

The Yaksha's gracious smile parts after a pause to finally reply, when a glint from the side suddenly interrupted your peace-

azure pupils dilated upon recognition;

your body flies back upon her powerful push;

blood spurs from her right thigh as a jagged pillar of rock pierces through;

your back and hitting the cliff's compact ground as your vision swims.

No, no, no, no, you recognize that glow even if it was similar to another. Your body whimpers as you struggle to get up, rolling to your side to see the inevitable— the floating silhouette of the Geo Yaksha raises his arm where an orb glows over it, a single eye glows from his shadow...

The last you saw was the flash of neons and black before the world was engulfed by a blinding light.

The next thing you know you were desperately trying not to puke as you cradled the mawled and still bleeding corpse of Menogias, weakly patting her cheeks as your desperate attempts to wake her- to convince yourself that she was still alive. That the spears of stones impaled through numerous part of her body was nonexistent.

Behind you Xiao flicks his head to the side as his mask disperses. His jade spear dripping with blood as her gentle eyes hardened as it squeezes out the tears.

"(Y/N)," your wails turned into whimpers and hiccups, loose arms wrapping around your waist as Xiao pulls you away from the bloody mess. You didn't have the spirit to protest, your eyes still trained on the deceased Yaksha's face as you wept in your lover's arms.

A familiar censer that wasn't there before hangs by his waist.

And when the pain didn't make you weep anymore, a beautifully woven sleeve of blue and clouds adorn his left arm. Those who live after a millenia would not be aware of a reminiscent and deep scar hidden beneath it.

"I was not aware you were out of your domain," the moment he landed, a firm hand grasps your waist to keep you steady on the balcony's railings. Where you're currently perched on, precariously.

You were still unused to the purple cloth that flows behind him. But it matches the wind that comes with him, and the beautiful clashes of colors that makes up who he is now. He was not reminiscent of the red gentleness that he was 2000 years ago, but a teal shadow that lingers at the edges of your vision as a blur.

"I wanted to thank you for purging the malignant monsters that haunted my domain by the cavern," your gaze falls away from the moon as you swing your legs up and over, turning to face the Inn and him yet still remaining seated on the railing.

His eyes were hostile, not at all indicative of the lightness it had long ago. Chest covered in white, and the many memorabilias that dangle with him. Xiao's hands rests on the railing by your side as your fingertip traces the Vajra hanging by his neck, chunky to pointy; Pervases, the name leaves your lips in a whisper.

A guttural growl leaves him in intensity that had you reeling yet still worried for him. Behind his lidded eyes were pure hurt from the fear you conveyed, but he shook his head at all the thoughts that invades. Xiao lets loose a tired yet mocking laugh, "I just remembered something unpleasant."

Before he can turn back to gaze at your ethereal form, you've thrown your arms around his head to pull him against your chest. Your grip and uneven heartbeat alerted him of your will to not cry at his misfortune; such sympathy is wasted on him, yet he wraps his arms around you close in a gentleness that once again reflects his deepest trait.

"...your blessings, not your flaws."

At the sound of your familiar lyrics, as if with a mind of its own, the tension on his shoulders drop immediately into your warmth.

"You've got it all, you lost your mind in the sound;

There's so much more, you can reclaim your crown;

You're in control, rid of the monsters inside your head;

Put all your faults to bed."

Urged the strokes of your hand on his head, the voices quiet into almost nothingness. The Conqueror of Demons smiles again.

"You can be king again."

To the realm of the Adepti and those who knows even the slightest of him, it was nothing to debate about when it is claimed that you were the real reason that the golden-winged king, the Conqueror of Demons— that Xiao still exists today.

If you recognize the song 🤝 big sad

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan @creation-magician @hanniejji @gojos-baby @just-some-stars @volleybloop @kookieyachi @xiaophilia @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @scarletroseneko

[phantom-curve]

Congrats on the follower milestone!! You deserve it!! 💜 I am going to request Juke + hiraeth (a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past)!

thank you!💕 also every time you send in a slightly angsty prompt my brain just goes: coney island juke Coney Island Juke CONEY ISLAND JUKE so here is Luke's POV from the first chapter of did I shatter you?

hiraeth - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

Luke had forgotten how cold it could be during December in New York City. The wind blowing in from the blackened ocean along the boardwalk sent icy tentacles crawling beneath his old plaid jacket, the winter air sneaking into all of the empty spaces living in his soul to freeze him from the inside out. He shivered slightly, adjusting the beanie on his head until it was pulled farther down over his ears. It felt like a fitting punishment to be here, alone, slowly trudging his way along the weathered planks of Coney Island as if he was doing penance for the last time he had been here. As if his suffering would ever make up for the things he had said and done, the way he had let Julie walk away without a second glance, taking most of his heart and soul with her when she disappeared.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he had come here. He hadn’t seen Julie in almost a year. The hollow spot in his chest where his heart used to live ached at the thought of her. Being here, beneath the stormy night sky with the neon lights of the carnival muted by the snow that was beginning to fall, felt like a desperate attempt to claw his way back inside a home that no longer existed. A painful reminder of the better times they had once shared. The family they had built together, the love that had flowed easier than breath itself, the best days of his life, all tied back into Coney Island and New York City. The tabloids had thought their love story originated in LA, but he knew that it had always been this place that birthed the beginning of what was supposed to have been their forever. He hunched his shoulders, protecting himself from the wind as much as he was attempting to soothe the raging sea of sadness that always threatened to drown him when he thought about Julie.

Reggie and Alex hadn’t been awake to talk him out of buying the one-way ticket cross country at three o’clock that morning. He had fallen asleep only to be awoken after a distressing dream involving Julie and more heartbreak than his unconscious mind was able to handle, and something had compelled him to book the first ticket he could find from LAX to JFK. His skin had been itchy the entire five-and-a-half-hour fight, his feet tapping out a restless rhythm and his journal a mess of scribbled pages where he somehow managed to write too many words that said nothing at all. His legs had taken him on a path through the terminal, leading him onto the AirTrain and then the train headed for Far Rockaway before he transferred to the Q and finally staggered off at the Coney Island stop, confused as to how he had gotten there, yet not surprised to find that this was the place he had been drawn to. None of his trip had been controlled by rational thought, pure gut instinct driving every decision he had made so far. He hadn’t even brought the right kind of clothes with him, as evidenced by the fact that he was freezing his ass off, snow slowly beginning to seep in through his tattered Vans to soak his socks.

The quiet of the night seemed to haunt him. Echoes of memories waited around every corner: Julie’s laugh, Julie’s voice, the sight of her curls glowing beneath neon lights, eyes shining with nothing but pure love for him. She had offered him the best home, one made out of her adoration and devotion, devoid of judgement or pain, the most vulnerable spot she could find within her heart to carve out a space for him to live. He had found a kind of peace there that felt holy and endless, as if Julie alone could patch up every broken piece of his heart, heal him and complete him and make him whole once more. And then he had destroyed the entire thing bit by bit until all it took was one final blow to demolish it beyond repair.

He still remembered the yawning abyss of loss that had opened within his soul when he got the call from Andi that Julie had ditched their contract and gone solo. The way his heart had eaten itself alive when he had seen those paparazzi pictures of her with Nick’s arms around her waist, his lips pressed against the top of her head, taking Luke’s rightful spot at her side. The keen sense of homelessness when Alex and Reggie had returned from a visit to their old house with all of Luke’s things in neatly packaged boxes, Julie’s clear, looping handwriting labeling each and every one. It felt like he had lost a piece of himself when he lost her. He was a boat without a port to return to, cursed to an eternity of being lost at sea.

Luke turned his head away from the boardwalk around him, focusing on his feet as they kicked up clumps of the freshly fallen snow with each step. As if looking away would keep the visions from crowding his head, ghosts of him and Julie so young and so happy, taunting him with the inevitability of their eventual downfall. What he wouldn’t give to turn back the clock, go back to his younger self and explain that Bobby meant nothing while Julie meant everything. Losing sight of that was his greatest regret. There was nothing he wanted more than to see her one last time. Have one last chance to atone for all of his mistakes, throw himself to the ground and beg for her forgiveness. Promise her a new beginning, one where he would never again allow his demons to poison him against her. But wishes were for kids whose dreams hadn’t yet been crushed. Luke had been given the greatest gift in the universe, and he then he had allowed himself to let it slip through his fingers, falling to shatter like glass against hardwood floor.

And then, like a phantom come to life, he heard her voice. Not the pale imitation that his mind liked to taunt him with, but her actual real-life voice, the sweetest melody he could imagine.

“Luke?”

[bookloveravenue]

ACOTAR series (book 4): A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

Nesta Archeron has always been prickly-proud, swift to anger, and slow to forgive. And ever since being forced into the Cauldron and becoming High Fae against her will, she's struggled to find a place for herself within the strange, deadly world she inhabits. Worse, she can't seem to move past the horrors of the war with Hybern and all she lost in it.

The one person who ignites her temper more than any other is Cassian, the battle-scarred warrior whose position in Rhysand and Feyre's Night Court keeps him constantly in Nesta's orbit. But her temper isn't the only thing Cassian ignites. The fire between them is undeniable, and only burns hotter as they are forced into close quarters with each other.

Meanwhile, the treacherous human queens who returned to the Continent during the last war have forged a dangerous new alliance, threatening the fragile peace that has settled over the realms. And the key to halting them might very well rely on Cassian and Nesta facing their haunting pasts.

Against the sweeping backdrop of a world seared by war and plagued with uncertainty, Nesta and Cassian battle monsters from within and without as they search for acceptance-and healing-in each other's arms.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31050237-a-court-of-silver-flames

********

February 18, 2021

My Review: 5/5 Stars

Brilliant. Utterly brilliant. Amazing. Wow. Seriously. I could not put this book down and for so many amazing reasons. Nesta's journey was incredible. It was rough and raw and real and healing and just so many different things. Cassian's journey. The introduction of brilliant new characters and the the weaving of other plots that drew you in. There wasn't a moment in this book that didn't hook you in. I didn't think anything could top my love of Feyre and Rhysand's stories but this may have been my favorite of the series so far. It was that good. We know Nesta through the eyes of Feyre. Her anger and coldness and overall nastiness had us always pausing and wondering if there was anything to like about her. And at times, we all hated her. But, then we would get a real piece of her that would make us pause and realize there is more to Nesta than she always appears. Her front is a mask. And during ACOWAR we saw a more likable and fearsome Nesta, but then the war tore it all down. And ACOFAS showed us what happens when we descend to our lowest. A Court of Silver Flames is Nesta's healing journey. Simple as that. From the first page to the very last. We see her anger and rage and her emptiness and sorrow. How she pushes and pushes because her self-loathing and the nightmares and scars from the war have her believe that being alone is the best solution for everyone she has ever cared about. But her family isn't ready to give up on her. Cassian isn't ready to give up on her. And so it's a fight to spark her back to life. To help her help herself find a reason to live and heal. It was a beautiful story. And Nesta is such a powerful character. Being in her head and finally getting to see who she truly is was absolutely amazing. She became a favorite character.

So this story begins and follows Nesta as her family teams up to snap her out of her destructive behavior. She will be training with Cassian and working at the library with the priestesses. And for Nesta, it takes time for those two things to bring out the real her and spark her journey. There were so many great threads to this story too. On top of Nesta's healing journey, we are introduced to two characters who become Nesta's friends and sisters, Gwyn and Emerie. These two have their own horrible pasts and stories. And it binds them together. As friends and warriors. Our Valkyries. And then there is the threat of war from one of used to be mortal queens. That sparks a whole other thread which forces Nesta to face her power that she has tried so hard to push down. Then there are some amazing surprises in the Inner Circle. Which I refuse to spoil! This book had so much to offer.

And then of course there is the romance between Nesta and Cassian. It was everything Sarah J. Maas promised and more. For all those who wanted these two together, you get your wish and then some. Their relationship is complicated but the friendship they find with one another is great. And then it's really the finding their way back to one another after stumbling through the horrors of war. I couldn't get enough of these two from their banter to their amazing chemistry. The rawness when they dropped their masks and allowed themselves to be vulnerable was just so moving.

Great, great book. And like always with this series, I can't wait for more because there are so many things still left to explore. This series could be huge with the amount of threads and ideas woven in. I don't know who's book is next, but either way, I cannot wait.

[ladyanput]

Seeing Red Ch.6

Warning: There’s a bit of gore in this chapter, as well as mentions of sexual abuse and suicide. 

Eva awoke to the smell of something floral. She opened her eyes and caught sight of Jason setting a tray on his coffee table, a delicate tea set and a small plate of biscuits on it. When he caught sight of her, he gave her a smile and made his way to her, giving her a small kiss on the forehead. 

“I take it you slept well..” He murmured against her skin, grinning as he felt her arms wrap around his neck. His hands slid to her naked waist, pulling her body close as he began to pepper her neck with soft kisses. When he pulled back, he took in the sight of Eva, of her sleep messed hair, the traces of sleepiness in her eyes, and how amazing she looked in his bed. “I thought you’d like some tea this morning.”

“Mmm, is that what I’m smelling?” Eva purred softly as she slid out of the bed, picking up a discarded shirt of Jason’s off of the floor and tugged it on. She let Jason guide her over to his sofa, where he handed her a cup of the fragrant floral tea. “Well, Jason, I must say, you have amazing tastes.” 

Jason smiled at her in return, silently thankful for Alfred for his help in the tea selection. 

“I am going to be heading down to the training room this morning. Me and the others agree that since Cat Boy managed to kick our asses, we needed to maybe try some different types of training.” 

“Keep in mind, he was using that weird magic.” Eva pointed out, risking a glance over at where Trixx was resting, on a soft pillow on Jason’s dresser. “I probably would have been killed without Trixx there to help me. He’s a little cutie.”

“More cute than me?” Jason wriggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to grin in return.

“I’d say so.” At his stunned expression, she burst out into laughter, her shoulders shaking and her head thrown back. “I’d say you’re more rugged than cute, Jay.” 

“Well, I guess that’s an improvement. But since you’ve wounded my fragile ego, I say your punishment is that you’ve got to come work out with us down in the training center.” He took a sip of his own tea, making a slight grimace when he tasted it. He was really an Earl Grey kind of guy, but he’d be willing to deal with this stuff at least for the day. 

“Fine. But it’s a pity, I was hoping to go over the whole ‘Miraculous drama’ with Trixx, since I’m basically in the dark about the entire thing.” At Jason’s look, she gave a slight shake of her head. “I’m not asking Marinette, she’s in no way, shape, or form ready for that kind of stuff. I’ll wait until she’s.. Processed all that’s happened.”

The two were then silent for a long time, sipping tea and nibbling on the biscuits, enjoying the sight of the sun rising through the large bedroom windows, casting the room in a warm colour. Trixx sat up and stretched with a soft yawn, lazily flying over to his Chosen and taking his seat on her shoulder.

“Good morning, Trixx, how’d you sleep?” She nuzzled the little fox, who returned the gesture quite eagerly. “You’re looking quite well rested.” 

“I haven’t slept like that in a long time. I guess having such an amazing kit has its perks.” Trixx eagerly took the biscuit that Eva offered and took a big bite out of it.

"So, training today, hm? Anything else on the menu?" Eva took another sip of her tea, feeling the warmth of it spread through her body. She almost didn't want that moment to end, her and Jason sitting in his room, the peace and quiet while they enjoy the moment.

To Jason, there was something so unbelievably domestic about it. A spot of calm in the raging storm that was his life. And seated across from him was a woman he found himself wanting to have that moment with more often.

"I heard Bruce mentioning something about going down to the police station, seeing Agreste. I dunno, maybe let Marinette confront her fears." Jason shrugged.

".. Is that wise? Like, I'm not questioning your guys' judgement or anything, but that bastard only yesterday kidnapped her, basically almost killed her, shouldn't we give her some time and space away from him?" 

"He's going back to France soon, to be prosecuted there. From what I'd gathered from the friends I have at the police station, that teacher of theirs is trying to say it was all a big misunderstanding."

That brought a snort of Eva.

"That's a bunch of fucking bullshit, but no, of course Caline is going to try to get everything swept under the rug. And Adrien's fancy, rich lawyers are no doubt gonna work double time to get all charges dropped." Eva grumbled.

Jason merely sat back and watched as Eva grumbled to herself. He found it rather adorable how her brows drew together and how she was practically snarling. But what really caught his attention was the fire in her eyes. Eyes that always drew him in with how expressive they were, like some open book. He knew a hundred things about Eva, yet nothing at all.

"But I shouldn't stress over it. They're not worth it, and I'm sure that the universe is going to deliver a great dose of karma." She let out a huff, and drained her cup of her tea.

Jason merely smiled and finished off his own tea. It was going to be an interesting day.

…

A morning of being tossed around like a rag doll in the training room, an afternoon of having heart to hearts with Marinette, and Eva found herself here.

Lady Vixen knelt on the ledge of the roof she had managed to scramble to, her breathing coming out in short, fast bursts as she ran, ran as far and fast as she could. 

She had crossed a line, she had gone and manhandled Adrien, because that little bastard had reminded her so much of David, of a past she had practically fled Canada to get away from. A past she had tried so hard to hide. 

Vixen, practically blind to the world, buried her face in her hands and began to sob, unaware of the orange mist that began to swirl around her. 

The ringing of a school reached her ears. Her head snapped up to see a familiar, yet distant scene in front of her; her high school’s main lobby, the rush of student bodies, the laughter, the shoutings, the energy of the youth that was sure that they all had such bright futures in front of them.. And there she was, at the age of sixteen. Eva Bourbon pushing her way through the crowds, engrossed in her own thoughts of papers and other schoolwork that she barely noticed the guy in front of her. 

They had collided, she had dropped her books, he had dropped his cell phone. They had stumbled over apologies and had scurried to pick up their dropped items. They had made clumsy introductions, Eva to the tall, blond, handsome David with the darkest eyes she had ever seen. 

“No, don’t.. Fuck, get away from him..” Vixen croaked out as she watched her younger self, her more foolish self, flirt with David, watched as they exchanged numbers, and continued on their ways to their classes.

And her life began to rush by; David asking her out, their first date at a nice restaurant and then them going and watching an event at the town’s main park, David and Eva agreeing to go steady, David’s many lavish gifts, since the guy was rich and came from an important family that had far too much influence in the town. Vixen watched tearfully the first time Eva had slept with David; in the back seat of his fancy car, the young seventeen year old girl looking so nervous, wanting to back out and maybe try this another time, and David begging, smooth talking, wearing her down until young Eva finally gave in. She watched as Eva went home that night and cried herself to sleep, but told herself that it was fine, afterall, she and David were soulmates, she was supposed to give her virginity to her soulmate.

The two got married just out of high school, moving into a nice large house with a white picket fence, paid for by David’s father. She watched as David’s father was arrested for fraud, amongst other things, and David lost his source of money. As Eva struggled with university and far too many jobs to count, as well as keeping a nice home. As David threw a fit as the two of them moved into a smaller house, because they just didn’t have the money, as he wasted money on drugs, alcohol, reminding Eva of a monster. 

And every time she went to leave him, he threatened suicide, that he couldn’t live without her, that if he died it would be all her fault and everyone would hate her for it, so she stayed, scared for him, for her. Because, foolishly enough, she still loved David, she thought he was her soulmate.

“No, just fucking leave him..” Vixen buried her face in her hands once more, as she witnessed a scene, one of many, of David forcing himself on Eva. “Fucking go.. Fuck, leave, please.. Soulmates don’t exist, that’s fucking fairytales, it’s bullshit, grow up, grow up, grow up..”

And the day that Eva was finally fed up with David, finally let the scales fall from her eyes, and she packed her bags, shoving them into the trunk of her car. And just as she was about to get into her car, Eva heard her name. 

Vixen and Eva both turned their heads, watching as David pulled out a handgun, Eva having never seen it before in her life, and as he inserted the barrel into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. His blood and brains splattered on the white house wall.

It was a scene that still haunted Eva to this day, a scene she saw everytime she closed her eyes, everytime she went to sleep she dreamed of that. And years later, she saw clearly that he had just done that to hurt her. David had been a pathetic excuse of a man, he’d had no skills aside from spending his daddy’s money, he never would have gotten anywhere without her. 

…

Eva stepped through the front door of Wayne Manor. Everyone was standing in the front hall, watching her. She could see the questions in their eyes, see them noticing her red rimmed eyes, her rosy nose, her trembling lips. She even noticed Marinette taking a step towards her, reaching out a hand. But Jason was the one who made his way to her, and she threw herself into his arms, into a pair of arms she knew deep down would never aim to hurt her.

And a few minutes later, she was curled up in his bed, in his embrace, telling her story while he remained quiet and simply listened. Once she was done, he let out a heavy sigh. 

“If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him. Fuck, Eva.. I had no idea.” He murmured as he ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it away from her tearstained face. 

“Oh, you never looked into my background? Never found out I was a widow?” Eva let out a teary laugh, but it ran hollow, false. 

“I wanted to, you know, respect your privacy. I only did a background check for any arrests or if you were connected to anything suspicious.” He admitted. When Eva sat up to look at him, he cupped her face in her hands. “I guess we both have pretty fucked up pasts. I was killed by the Joker.”

“Yeah, really funny, Jason.” She went to roll her eyes, but the look on her face made her stop. “Wait.. No, fuck, Jay, are you serious?” 

And that was the night that the two of them bore the deepest parts of themselves to each other. And Eva made several appointments for Jason to see a therapist, as well as herself.

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @chocolate1721 @emo-elaine13 @mochinek0 @drarryismylife101 @toodaloo-kangaroo @moonlightstar64 @imtryingsstuff @shamefullove

[the-slasher-files]

DIFFERENT PREADTORS - chapter six

INCLUDES ANDREI KULOKOVA x XAVIERA LAH-MO

After the storm there is a calm, then a storm again, the a calm, that is just life with Andrei. This is a fun, wholesome chapter for the most part, just two people becoming closer before their separation... The end is coming and I am going to cry lol. I hope you guys are genuinely loving this story because I know I am. Make sure to read part one, two, three, four, and five.

Go read @horrorslashergirl​ oc Xaviera’s perspective linked HERE

MASTERLIST 

Andrei’s eyes were clear again, he had no coating of lust or blood desire or sick intentions, the wolf was at bay for tonight and he could relax again. Focusing his attention on the beautiful woman in front of him, he knew he should return her caring favor after what she had been through from him and the man from the truck.

“It feels so good.” she whispered, opening her eyes to meet his now calm blues.

“Good baby girl.” Andrei replied, looking over her bruises with a trained eye. Stripping of his bloody coat and black long sleeve, he groaned at the warm steam hitting his tense muscles, then put his still bloody hand in the warm water turning it slightly pink. He moved his hand scooping water and gently washing off Xaviera’s skin from any of her blood or the man’s blood that Andrei was caked in.

“You’re so beautiful” he commented running his hands along her now permanently marked skin. She was his. Forever.

“Thank you for saving me.” she whispered, leaning into his gentle touch, shivering when he touched the bitemarks. 

Running his fingers along the cut on her temple his rage burned quietly, the only time he had ever protected someone so strongly was with his sister, Amaria, but even then it was different. A rage he had never felt. Andrei would never let anyone touch her as long as he was around.

Grabbing the wash cloth he dapped her temple making sure all old blood was removed and no infection could start. It was a deep primal urge to help, protect and an unfamiliar feeling, to love her. Xaviera accepted him for the man and the beast, caring for him and letting herself submit, which was probably a tough feet for the feisty little kitten.

Leaning in he kissed her softly and slowly, he didn’t want to devour her for once, he just wanted a soft intimacy for the first time in his life. Pulling away he rested his forehead on hers “you’re mine… no one will ever hurt you when I’m around.”

Xaviera’s lips pulled into a genuine smile, for the first time in years feeling connected with a human being, although he could easily rip someone’s throat out like a wolf if he so desired.

“I know… And I am very grateful for it….” she whispered against his lips, enjoying the intimacy that was so high on a spiritual level. “I love you…” Xaviera spoke, her eyes widening at her own confession.

Andrei’s heart stopped at her words. No one had ever told him that before other than his mother but she had been gone for a long, long time. His breathing stopped and he found himself shocked for the first time in his life, then denial kicked it. No one could love him. He was a dangerous beast. Unlovable. She probably had a concussion, but he didn’t want her to feel embarrassed or hurt so Andrei just kissed her again rougher and leaving her breathless. His soul knew the truth and it spoke for its self in the kiss and the way his fingers moved along her skin. He loved her too but he could never say it.

Pulling away he stood up, removing the plug from the bath and grabbing both of her hands, pulling her up on wobbly legs he dried her with a fluffy towel, scooping her up again and placing her in bed.

“You need to rest kitten… I will grab you some water”

Going back into the bathroom he ran the cold water, splashing it on his face, cleaning the blood and trying to wake himself up from this. It must’ve been a dream. No one could love him. No one.

“Fuck” he whispered, slamming his fist on the counter. He knew he loved her too but it was too painful to admit it, plus he was leaving in a day anyway.

Inhaling deeply he filled her glass and walked into the bedroom again. “Here.. you had a long day” Andrei spoke gruffly, trying to hide any soft emotions from her.

Removing his boots and cargo pants something slipped from the pocket. It was his wolf tooth necklace. Andrei never wore it but he always kept it on him, his sister said it was for good luck and it would protect him. Leaning down he grabbed it and made his way over to his side of the bed, pulling Xaviera close to him instinctively.

“I- I want you to have this…” he showed her the necklace, running a thick thumb along it in comfort “they said it was for protection and good luck” placing it in her small hands he continued “.. I’m already the luckiest man and you need protection more than I do.. so.. here.” His cockiness couldn’t help but come through, it was just Andrei.

“Thank you, Wolfy.” she whispered, her hands cupping his cheeks and pressing her lips softly against his, her thumbs stroking his skin.

Her words lit him up in beastly ways and human ways. The first woman that could do both flawlessly. “Anytime baby girl.” He grinned taking in the sick memory of ripping the man’s spine out and leaving the body alone in the snow.

Her hands felt so right on him and his scars. The wolf was turning into her lap dog as he kissed her back strongly, pushing his tounge through her soft lips “Thank you for everything.” she murmured into the kiss, only for him to pull away.  

“Your such a sap.” He laughed trying to lighten the mood as he ways did.

Xaviera rolled her blue eyes at his words, a pink tint to her cheeks from his teasing.

“Ohhh bite me…Will you?” she sassed, looking into his eyes with playfulness.

He managed to unlock a feline-like playful side on her and he was the only one who will see this part of her. She pressed her lips on the tip of his nose, then gave him a cheeky smile.

“Don’t temp me again little one” He smiled but pressed his thumb gently on her permanent bite mark just to remind her that he would in fact do it again.

Softly his eyes changed looking at the black eye that was forming on her skin, running his thick thumb along it. Andrei wanted to apologize for someone even laying a hand on her but he stopped and just kissed he lips again. “You must rest.”

Xaviera huffed but rested her head on the pillow, yawning and moving closer to his hard body.  “Mhmm… I really need it… You kind of sucked the energy out of me.” she whispered, resting her forehead on Andrei’s chest.  

He gave a slightly laugh as he held her close, once again his hand found its way to her grizzly scars and rubbed them gently. Andrei knew he was a lot especially with his rough side sometimes, but she seemed to love it all and that he was grateful for.

“Goodnight Xaviera” Andrei whispered into her white hair, again she name was so sweet on his dangerous tounge. Closing his eyes and stroking her hair, he was at peace again, a miracle that it was the second night in a row.

Xaviera closed her eyes and basked into his gentle touches. “Goodnight, Andrei.” she whispered in a soft sleepy voice, His name on her lips was addicting, a foreign drug he needed time and time again. Xaviera rested one hand on his chest, where his heart was, just feeling his heartbeat as she fell asleep. Such a beautiful animalistic way of comfort, she appreciated him just for his beating heart and it made him grateful, Andrei closed his eyes allowing himself to relax.

“Mine…” she murmured in her sleep.

Opening his icy blue eyes he looked down, she was fast asleep within his arms. Andrei grinned at this, such a cute little primal thing he held carefully. Shifting himself a little he closed his eyes again “I lov-” the words caught in his throat like a knife and he just sighed. Maybe another time. Sleep consumed the beast once more, no haunting thoughts or feeling woke him up. He was at peace.

A night of tranquility.

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

The morning sun peaked through the pine trees and into the bedroom, the birds sang and trees swayed in the light breeze. Andrei opened his eyes softly, turning his head quickly to make sure Xaviera was still next to him, her skin glowed beautiful in the morning light and she clutched the wolf tooth necklace between her fingers.

A small smile crept on his lips and he watched her soft breathes, he didn’t want to leave her, she was perfect. Groaning he rolled over, getting up to grab some hot tea, a pleasant pleasure he loved to indulge in. One last look over the cottage he went upstairs, quietly placing her mug on her nightstand and making his way back into bed. Xaviera’s words from last still ringing in his head over and over he gently traced with his fingers then his lips over her bruises. His bruises.

She woke up with a small little yawn and stretch, meeting his gaze with her sleepy one. “Morning, Wolfy.” Xaviera murmured hugging her pillow to her body.

“Mornin��.” his voice was still rough and harsh from just waking up.

“Slept well?” she asked, looking up at him curiously, then moving to take the cup of tea from her nightstand, taking a sip and humming at the taste.

“Best sleep I’ve had in while” taking a sip himself his large free hand moved to her thigh “how about you myshka?”

She hummed at his question, taking another sip of tea. “I slept like a baby… Never felt so fresh.” she answered, setting her mug on the nightstand, then looked at the wolf tooth in her hand. “Will you?” she asked him, pulling her hair up for him, exposing her neck, covered in bite marks, for him to put the necklace on. 

Eyeing up her neck he grinned taking the necklace in hand, not in a million years would he think that the wolf would be caught dead clasping a silly necklace on a girl’s neck, but his heart filled with pride at her dawning his affection.

“Thank you… Now I have two necklaces. Both from you.” she spoke, motioning to her collar of bitemarks, one much bigger than the rest.

As he clasped the necklace Andrei kissed her neck as he closed it whispering against her bruises “y’know… I don't have to leave for the next day or so.. maybe we can have some fun together.”

“Mmmm…. Well, me neither. My job here is done and I don’t have anywhere pressing to be… What do you have in mind?” she asked, one of her small hands stroking his knuckles.

“Well… little one, I have some ideas.” the wolf growled, pulling her head back into a kiss as his hands went down her torso and teasingly getting closer to her heat. Xaviera kissed back, her tongue running over his, then she pulled away only for her teeth to gently tug on his bottom lip then sucking it innocently, finishing with a small kiss.

“Mind telling me? This kitten is very curious.” she cheekily whispered, her blue eyes shining mischievously.

She was starting to play with him as much as he did to her, but Andrei was much more experienced with toying. Dipping his fingers down in between her folds rubbing and circling, “breakfast” he smiled again her neck bringing his fingers up and tasting them, silently laughing at his own teasing and her reaction. Andrei got up, putting on his cargo pants leaving himself shirtless and walking down stairs.

“That’s just cruel!” she yelled after him, as he made it down the stairs. Andrei laughed, something that was rare for him but in the last 2 days he had been doing it often. She was feisty and he loved it. 

Looking in the fridge he pulled out some eggs and bacon and a pan he started to cook, his icy blues went to look at Xaviera when she was groaning and stretching. Something fueling him inside again. “Stiff baby girl?”

“A little bit. It’s been some full days… And I haven’t done any yoga in two weeks.” she replied. She sat down on her front, arching her back, getting into the cobra position, sighing as she felt her back pop, closing her eyes as the tension left her body little by little. Next, she supported herself on her forearms, letting the rest of her body go forward, doing an upward-facing two-foot staff pose.

“It helps relax and relieve a lot of tension.” she explained, bringing her feet closer until they were inches from her hands, her body forming an O form.

Andrei’s eyes went wide at her position, he couldn’t stop himself from turning completely around towards her, abandoning the cooking.

“That… that helps you relax?” He just started, his head running with sexual thoughts and shock “It looks like it fucking hurts..” he started to stalk towards he vulnerable position, admiring the way her body curved strong and delicately, running a finger along the curve of her body “I don't think I’ve stretched probably since I wa-” Andrei wanted to continue but smelt the burning bacon “Shit” he turned and ran back to the stove “motherfucker”

She couldn’t help but laugh at this, getting into the lotus position.

“Doesn’t hurt at all when you’ve done it for years… Felines are very flexible, Wolfy.” she answered his question with a wink, feeling herself be more confident, also very amused.

Turning off the stove and throwing out the breakfast gone to waste. His brow raised at the idea of so much flexibility being under his hands, he swallowed harshly controlling himself. “Well little kitty if you keep that up, you’re not going be able to even walk tomorrow.” He winked back then checked the fridge again, slamming it closed. “Welp, want some cereal?” He asked smirking.

She raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on her face. “How about you let me do the cooking. I don’t wanna see your hair on fire.” she said, ruffling his faux hawk hair. “How does pancakes sound? Or…. you want something specific?” she asked him.

Andrei pulled away slightly as she ruffled his light brown hair and looked down at her tugging at her hip he pulled her close and raised his brow “how about a feisty little American girl served on a plate?” He grinned licking one of his canines

Xaviera couldn’t help the laugh escaping her; a genuine one, amused by the Russian’s sexual humor. “You are such a horny dog.” she said with an amused smile. “Alright, so pancakes it is then…” she replied, starting to prepare the new breakfast.

Andrei moved his hands up in the air in a surrendered way, stepping back, only to smack her ass as she turned around and he walked around the kitchen island, putting space between them. The white-haired woman squeaked, almost dropping the batter for pancakes on the floor. She glared over her shoulder at him but decided to leave it at that if they actually wanted to eat something.

Xaviera started to cook, remembering how she missed her grandmother’s cooking. She learned to cook from her. After half an hour, she set the plates of pancakes on the table.

“Would you like any topping with them?” she asked the Russian.

“Let’s see” Getting up, Andrei went to the fridge finding some butter and strawberry jam, Xaviera just looked up at him and the ingredients in hand “let me show you something” moving to pancakes he took a knife cutting in down the middle “American pancakes are always too thick” he scoffed then took the thin pancake slicing it halfway down the middle and spreading the butter and jam on “this is Belini.. Russian traditional pancakes.. they are much thinner” he continued to show her as he folded it in half then half again “.. and now you can eat it with your hand” he grinned taking a bite

Xaviera had listened intently and did the same with her pancakes as Andrei did. “Like this?” she asked.

Andrei watched her carefully as she held the knife following his instructions, but she made a scary little flick upwards with the knife that made his eye focus hard “..Just- wait.” Coming beside her he skillfully grabbed the knife cutting the pancake for her “you were doing fine, just you’re not skilled with knives, I don't want you hurting yourself” Andrei grinned and let her finish. “Perfect myshka… now grab some vodka and you’re a true Russian” he joked take a bite of his food, memories coming back to him of his childhood

At that joke, she couldn’t help but chuckle. He was the only one who could make her laugh so easily.

“I think I had vodka one time… In college? I am not much of a drinker, to be honest… Maybe on certain occasions?” she told him with a shy smile.

Nodding he stared “Its not a liquor for everyone, its a strong one but it helps me relax when I’m home… shuts off my brain for a while.” Andrei told her then remembered some of his stupid drunken moments with his buddies but now it was just mostly him drinking alone just forcing his brain to turn off his active mind.

“I’m not very good at holding my alcohol… Plus I hate my drunken self… So yes. I stay sober.” she replied.

“What are you, an angry little drunk?” he asked with a soft laugh, taking another bite of his food.

Xaviera bites her lower lip, her face blushing furiously “I wish…” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

Andrei stopped and squinted his eyes a little in thought “ok… let’s see” he got up and started to walk towards her, circling her like a predator ready to rip her throat out “so not an angry drunk and I don't think you’re a sad one just by what you’ve shown me so far… so maybe…” he was right behind her now, a towering figure “maybe with all your years of sexual frustration and that little blush i seemed to pull” Andrei leaned in, down to her neck for the kill “.. maybe you’re an overly sexual drunk” he smirked teasing his lips on her neck. 

She moaned lowly in her throat.

“W-What makes you….. S-So sure of it?” she asked, voice shuttering. The wolf moved his hands slowly to her thighs, moving upwards and underneath her shirt. 

“well baby girl.. ” He kissed her watching her come undone so easily at his touch “all those years of not getting any cant be good to hold in..” Andrei crept his large hands up, roaming her body as if it were new to him “and by the fact you took me like such a good little girl without any complaints,” he growled lowly next to her ear while one hand tweaked her nipple, pulling a soft mewl from her and he grinned wickedly “well.. that just tells me everything” Removing his hands quickly he walked back over to his chair watching her flustered appearance with sharp eyes “see.. look at ya”

She looked at him with a flustered red face, dumbfounded at what just happened. “You’re the most infuriating man I ever meet!” she snapped, Andrei broke into a full on laugh, something that was a rare sight, he hadn’t smiled and laughed this much in the last few days than any other time in his life. 

“I’ve heard that one before” sipping his tea he watched her turn away “.. you’re so cute when you’re flustered” getting up he made his way over to the fire place, putting some logs in and starting it up and also lighting his cigarette with the flames, and bringing himself to sit on the couch watching the snow start to gently fall. Turning his head to the woman still in the kitchen, washing the dishes, he spoke again “come here kitten”

Wiping her wet hands off, she walked over to him. “What’s the matter?” she asked with curiosity.

He just sat, watching the sway for her hips and swallowing his pride at the question “nothing… just want you” Andrei spoke motioning to his lap while taking a long drag of his cigarette. She was breaking him.

Slowly, she walked over until she was in front of him, standing there awkwardly for a few seconds, then she reluctantly put each of her knees on each side of him, getting onto his lap and looking at his naked broad chest.

She was so cute when she was unsure, so innocent and he was out to destroy her innocence one touch at a time. Hooking two fingers under you chin Andrei made her look up at him. Taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke in her face, something he thought was like affection. Capturing her in a kiss his one hand went down to support her hip while the other put the cigarette out in the ash tray and moved to her white soft hair, deepening the kiss. Andrei had never wanted someone so badly in his life, needed her for just affection, a foreign concept

Xaviera shivered as he touched her, he always managed to make her putty in his arms. She melted into the kiss, kissing back slowly, running her tongue over his bottom lip, while her hands played with his faux hawk, loving the feeling, like the fur of a wolf. “I love your hair.” she whispered against his lips.

Pulling away slightly he leaned his head back a little exposing the underside of his jaw casually and cocked a brow. It was a comment he had never received before. “You.. you like my hair?” He questioned ready to laugh, to him hair was just hair, it was nothing special.

Xaviera runs her fingers through his hair, humming at his question.  “Mhmm.. It’s wild like you…but also has a certain softness if you pay close attention.” she whispered as she leaves butterfly kisses down his throat, so gentle like he was made of glass.

Andrei’s eyes went icy and his smirk faded at the word “softness”. The wolf is not soft. Andrei is not soft. Sure he liked to care for some people here and there but soft is not a word he likes. His neck and jaw tensed and he knew she could feel it. With a swift motion his hand clamped around her jaw making her look up at his cold eyes in a warning. “And be reminded that I am wild myshka..” Andrei moves his face in close snarling “and I can take whatever I want from you, when I want it.” He growled and moved to her neck, hold her jaw upwards as he licked her bruises skillfully

Xaviera’s eyes widened at his words. She couldn’t help but mewl at his words, her eyes closing as he licked her bruised neck. “I-I’m sorry….” she whimpered.

“Good little girl” he growls, pulling away. Running his hands softly through her hair, pulling a few strands away. She was right. He was soft with her. Kissing her lips he moves along her jaw and towards her ear “I like yours too.” He smiles nibbling on her ear lobe. It made her sigh in pleasure, her hands running down his chest.

“A-Andrei….” she breathed out, feeling so vulnerable she tensed in the wolfs large arms. Andrei stopped for a moment, feeling her tense a little under his touch. His jokes were supposed to be funny not make her stiffen up, but he knew this was going to be a hard end for both of them. 

Instinctively he held her close for a moment then spoke. “I have an idea… what about a game?”

“A game? What kind of game?” she asked, a little confused.

“Well the other night when I was looking around the cottage they have some games on the shelf..” he kissed her forehead then lifted her off him as Andrei stood himself and walked towards the shelf “I figured everyone knows Jenga and in army I played it a lot when we were sitting around…” 

“I know the game.” her eyes lit up as she told him, getting comfortable on the couch.

Grabbing it down he placed it on the table “got any interesting bets?” He raised his scarred brow.

“Suuuuuure. What bet are you thinking about?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sitting on the armchair across from the couch eyeing up Xaviera like a feast “So.. you know me, I love a challenge so how about strip Jenga?” He gave his wolfish grin “and I’m shirtless and you’re pantsless so this can be fun”

The white-haired woman blushed at his proposition, “Seems fair I am on.” she told him, flashing a cheeky smile, making him chuckle.

Andrei gives a soft chuckle “alright… you know the rules… claim your block and if you pull it out without the tower falling you’re safe but if you can’t pull out the one you wanted then you lose something alright kitten?” Setting up the blocks he flashes his eyes glimmering with competition “ladies first”

“What a gentleman.” she mused, her eyes looking over the tower, inspecting it like a snake inspects a mouse, calculating in her head all the possibilities, until she settled for one in the middle of the tower, her tiny fingers clasping it and slowly pulling the block out.

“Your turn, Wolfy.” she says with amusement.

“If you didn’t know I’m a bit of a risk taker” he speaks with confidence eyeing up the bottom row like a jackass, pulling away the bottom left block and placing it at the top “be careful myshka”

Xaviera’s eyes were on him, the corner of her lip pulled up.

“I figured that one out from the first day I meet you, Wolfy.” she whispered, her gaze moving to the tower, choosing a piece from the top, being careful, her eyes switching from it to the bottom of the tower, making sure it wasn’t off-balance. She sighed as she managed to get this one too.

“You said something?” she asked with a little smug smile, trying to stop herself from giggling.

“Don’t be so smug yet darling… we are not done” his eyes are alive with the thrill of the game, losing himself a little he pulls the right block from the bottom row, hitching his breath as the tower swayed but it stood tall, he was safe. “Wanna give up?”

Xaviera bites her bottom lip. “Not one bit.” she said, her eyes scanning the tower, from left to the right, wondering what her next move should be. She chose one in the middle again, her teeth clamping on her bottom lip with every inch that she pulled out, the tower swaying a little. “Come on.” she whispered, managing to get the last inch out, a big smile on her face. “Don’t underestimate little ol’ me.” she said in an innocent voice, seeing him twitch in anticipation, eyes dark and competitive.

He needed to think of something else.. distraction.

“Alright, I see you…. ok I'm going for the 3rd row middle block” he claims knowing he wouldn't be able to pull it off. Andrei pulls and wiggles but its strong he can’t do it with out the tower falling “son of bitch… guess I have to remove something” He stands undoing his belt and pants leaving him just in his boxer briefs, dog tags and socks. “You’re turn baby girl” Andrei smirks catching her looking over him

Her eyes drift back to his face and she huffed, knowing she was blushing. “Aaaaalright, smart guy.” she mused, trying one from the upper row only not managing to get it out. She groaned.

“Fine…. One goes off from me too.” she said, getting her shirt off, not wearing a bra, her breasts were on display, the wolf tooth he gave her hanging between her breasts.

Fuck, she knew his weaknesses, she knew what the wolf wanted. He pulled his head down quickly not wanting to get too much of an eye full before losing himself. “Ugh ok…” he breathed slowly “here we go” he prayed on his skilled fingers to help him through Andrei went for the second top row pulling out the right block, watching the tower swayed a little, but he was safe, for now

Xaviera went for a middle top one, but it got stuck and when she tried to force it, she noticed the tower swaying, so she stopped. Her eyes moved up to him and she huffed. The last piece goes off. Her hands pulled on the waistband of her panties, his icy eyes followed all her movements, her teasingly slow pace was driving him mad, then throwing them in his face, it was over. 

The wolf growled throwing them back at her “Who knew you were such a dirty player” Andrei snarled, “but I’m still going to win” he said hopefully but he started to feel the burning desire in his core. He had to get this over quickly, Andrei never had the best self control.

His fingers twitching now he breathed slowly he went for the same exact block as Xaviera had just went for and he managed to pull it out slowly and carefully, holding his breath “FUCK yes!” Andrei yelled, losing himself in the game “what are you gonna do now baby girl?” making Xaviera chuckle at his enthusiasm.

She examined the tower, going for a top one, a little to the left, trying to balance the tower a little. She took her time, slowly pulling it out and she sighed, relieved. Looking up at him, she gave an innocent smile. “Your turn, all-mighty.” she said with a wink, her playful side coming out more and more.

His cockiness was getting the better of him and in a desperate stupid move Andrei pulled from the second row on the right a little too fast and his breath hitched as the tower wobbled and ended up tumbling down to the table “motherfucker!!” He yelled kicking the coffee table to have it loudly scrap against the hard wood.

“Looks like I am the big champion.” she said with a chuckle.

Andrei scoffed “of what? A stupid game?” He stood up putting his pants on and walking over to the kitchen, looking for some alcohol. He hated to lose anything, but also maybe it was his anger that they would part ways tomorrow bubbling up inside him.

Xaviera rolled her eyes at his childish attitude, getting herself dressed as well. “You cannot always win. Sometimes you lose.” she replied back, crossing her arms over her chest, only for Andrei to flip her off.

Turning around Andrei continues looking through the cupboards, finding a bottle of Himalayan whisky reserve. Not an alcohol he had tried before, cracking it open he takes a sip from the bottle with a hiss at the burn.

“Ugh, fuck… this is terrible.” But he pours himself a glass desperately trying to stop his active mind from the thoughts of leaving her tomorrow, but plays it cool and just walks to the couch swirling the unfamiliar liquid in the glass.

Xaviera raised an eyebrow at him, shaking her head as he started to drink. “Drinking your defeat down?” she asked. 

Andrei harshly glared at her, the fur beginning to rise and claws sharpening, but he didn’t want to, it was his defense mechanism to be cold, the wolf kept him alive this long “You know you got a pretty smart mouth on ya.. if you don't stop I'm going end up putting it work” he spat. 

“Uhhhh…. I’m scared.” she said, and that’s all that was needed for the Russian to lose his patience. He sat his glass of alcohol on the table in front of the couch, then in a flash, his hand fisted her long snow-white hair, her knees meeting the hardwood floor, looking up at the wolf with wide eyes, in front of him between his legs.

“W-What are you doing?” the prey gasped as his free hand started to unbuckle the belt of his cargo pants, the sound of the zipper being tugged down followed. Flashing her a dark wicked smile with teeth bared the wolf pulled out his hard length. 

“Since you wanna act like a fucking brat, I’m gonna treat you like one.” he answered, hand wrapping around the veiny length, he tugged her head closer, as the preys hands were pushing against his muscular thighs. “None of that! Now…. Pucker up for Daddy.” the wolf growled, making her legs trembled as she meets his hard gaze, knowing there was no way out of this.

Gulping down, she puckered her lips, slowly inching closer until her lips meet the rosy tip, her eyes looking up at him all innocently from under her eyelashes. “Open up.” he ordered, but she kept her mouth shut, only to receive a slap to the cheek with his cock, making her blush furiously.

“Open up now, myshka…. Or I am gonna fuck your throat.” he warned her with harsh words, and prey did as she was told, opening her mouth, her tongue poking out and giving the tip a shy lick, only for him to growl again, making her squeak slightly. “Don’t fucking tease me.”

Gulping down, she wrapped her lips around the tip and going down, starting to suck, working her hot mouth more on the tip, while her other small hand was put around the base moving up and down.

“Aren’t you a fast learner, kitten?” he asked, chuckling as he pushed her further down his length, making her throat tense. Her tongue swirled around the tip, her free hand moving to grasp his balls gently, massaging them, making sure she pleased him, not creating discomfort. “My, my…. Myshka, you’re a natural.” the wolf praised, the tip of his fingers massaging her scalp.

The tip of her tongue moved over the little slit, pushing against it, making the wolf loudly growl in pleasure. Her eyes widen when both his hand’s fist into her white mane, in one quick move, pushing his whole length into her mouth and down her throat. Her hands quickly grasped his thighs, fingernails digging into his cargo pants as tears formed at the corner of her eyes, falling down her rosy cheeks. So beautiful.

“Now, that’s a good girl.” he growled, her throat constricting around his cock only for him to yank her off his cock, a string of saliva connecting his length and mouth. “Anything smart ya have to say, kitten?” he asked harshly, predatory eyes eating her alive.

Her swollen lips trembled, not able to even form a word. Not giving her any more time, he pushed back into her mouth and she tried to relax as much as possible, as he thrusts into her sweet little mouth. “That’s how you look the best…. with my cock down your throat, baby girl.” he growled, thrusting harshly inside her mouth, drool running down her chin.

“Here comes the prize, little slut.” he snarled, cumming inside her mouth, making her choke at the salty taste. the wolf pulled out quickly, making her squeak as he finished the rest on her face, rubbing the tip of his cock against her cum covered lips. A sick animalistic urge to see her covered in what she made him do. “Now, that’s a pretty face.” he commented, running his hand through her hair. The wolf had made yet another claim on the sweet prey, imprinting on her forever.

Xaviera gasped and swallowed harshly at what ever cum was on her tongue, as Andrei stroked her long locks, coming back to himself, he got up to the kitchen, grabbing a washcloth and dapping it warm water before coming back to his spot. 

“So beautiful, myshka.” he whispered, his hand stroking her cheek as he pressed a kiss to her forehead “Round two on Jenga?” Andrei asked with a smirk, his eyes glimmering with mischief. If he lost again maybe she would give it to him once more, he gave a soft smile as she nodded and giggled.

Their last day together was spent playing a few more rounds of jenga, laughing and learning more about each other, not just as predators but as people that got fucked over by the world. Their souls connecting even though Andrei stomped the table in two at the last round of the game. She accepting him and him accepting her as she came. The two ate dinner in silence, just enjoying each others company, drinking tea and exchanging stolen glances. 

Andrei had never felt more at home tonight than any other time in his life, Xaviera sitting on his lap with her back pressed against his naked chest, in front of the roaring fireplace, just breathing, touching, and being grateful for one another. Nothing else mattered in the world when she was around. The wolf felt free, but at the same time never so chained down in his life. He wanted, he needed to be around her, she was a soul that needed protection from the sick world, like an endangered species, Xaviera needed to be safe in his arms, no where else. 

She leaned her head back against the Andrei’s chest, feeling his chest move up and down with each breath, he looked down at her, studying her beautiful features in case they would never cross paths again. They just savored the quietness and peacefulness that like home. Different predators with lives people tried to steal were safe together tonight.

Andrei’s mind raced, not with terrible memories or haunting screams but just thoughts of her, the beautiful dangerous creature he held. As she fell asleep Andrei didn’t want to miss a thing, every scrunch of her nose to every little twitch. He was grateful for her and he didn’t want to let go, he knew no one else would accept him they way she did, and in his dangerous life Andrei learned to hold these special moments close and not waste them because there was always the potential that his time would be up tomorrow. 

Don’t let her go... Be grateful... Don’t let her go 

[aceademic]

Chapter 2 & 2.5 of Band on The Run

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

Chapter 2

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

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

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

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

“Yeah,” Mom whispered. “And when he does we’ll take the car out to the fields and sing Brandy at the top of our damn --”

“Geddup!”

I jolted upward and blinked, realizing it was just a dream and I was not at home, but in fact, in a spaceship. My heart sunk to the very depths of my inner ocean of self-pity as I pulled on my jacket.

“Give me a minute!” I answered. I heard rustling and saw Peter climbing out of the small bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Clean yourself up and meet me outside, okay?”

Peter nodded sleepily and I left the room, closing the door behind me. And there was standing Kraglin. He was wearing the exact same thing as yesterday and he look as fresh and awake as morning dew.

“Mornin’,” he said awkwardly.

“What’s going to be our orders?” I asked him, jumping straight to the point.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’ll have to find out yourself when we get to the hull.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his second-in-command or whatever?” I asked dubiously.

“Just cause I’m his first mate don’t mean that he tells me everything,” he answered. “He’s a very private person.”

“I’m ready.”

Peter must have slithered his way to my side, because the door was now ajar, and Peter’s hair was slightly less mussy than it was before. I ruffled his hair anyways.

  I stared in amazement as we entered the hull. The walls had veins that pulsed an eerie, vivid red and the walls were a dark, shadowy grey. Chairs, consoles and neon green screens surrounded me. In the chairs were all different types of aliens talking in headsets and taping the consoles, speaking to each other in a language had never heard before. Alien technology scattered the room, and my gaze set upon the crowd of crew members standing by a window with a breathtaking view of the peace of space. They seemed to be staring, whispering and pointing at me and Peter, as if they had never seen a human before. Some frowned, some seemed curious, and some made me want to punch them repeatedly in the face – or faces, because apparently some aliens have two heads.

Kraglin led me to the back where everyone was, and kindly guided us to the back corner where we would get less weird looks. After a few more of the crew hurried in, I noticed Yondu, sitting on a big, comfy captain’s chair, staring down at us all.

“Everyone, meet your new crewmates, Avery and Peter Quill!” Yondu shouted, holding an arm out in our direction. Everyone turned to look at us. So much for being discreet.

“I thought we were giving them over --” a man started, but Yondu shushed him, very loudly might I add.

“I don’t want another word out of your mouth Horuz, or I’ll scrub it clean in the canteen,” Yondu hissed. Some of the men snickered and the other went immediately silent, looking absolutely furious. “If you don’t like how I run things around here, you can get your skinny ass up and leave, you hear?”

It seemed that either no one heard, or no one wanted to leave.

“Good.” A pause. “Gef, Yorker, I want you in the training room. You’re getting to fat for my liking. Retch, Halfnut, Scrotch, I want you on canteen duty. Oblo, Narblik, Huhtar and Tullk, I want you on hallway duty on deck 10 . . .”

The list continued, and as he called out names, people left the room to go to their assigned stations until it was just me, Peter and Kraglin.

“Kraglin, I want you to show them littles around the ship and when you’re done, I want them to go to Rof’in in the training room. He’ll know what to do.”

Kraglin nodded and led us out of the hull. “All right, let’s start with the tour. There are 10 decks in total. Right now, we’re on deck one, all the way at the bottom.”

He started show us around the first deck. We passed the brig, which was where I was kept when I was unconscious, and we went into the hold, muster station, and a small saloon. I made a mental note of what each room was and its purpose. We continually went up, going through the quarterdecks (two whole decks just for where the cabins are), the training room, the turret (which I have to admit was pretty cool), medbay, the promenade deck, the canteen, multiple saloons, the galley, the escape hatches and small bays holding random equipment and such. One oddly contained a whole assortment of mini figurines (most of which were broken).

As we made our way back to the hull, Peter’s stomach grumbled. Kraglin and I both looked at him. I had forgotten I was hungry. I had forgotten that we needed food. For the glorious bliss that was 1 hour, I had forgotten that I was kidnaped and that my head hurt and that my mother was dead and pretended that my good friend Kraglin was showing me around a spaceship. The fierce rage of fire that roared inside me returned along with a loud grumble of my stomach.

“We can stop by the canteen on our way back to the training room,” Kraglin offered. We both nodded hungrily, and I wondered what aliens ate. Probably not grilled cheese.

When we entered the canteen, it was mostly empty except for the people who were working there, cleaning dishes and mopping the floor. No one looked up. There were refrigerators nailed into the wall, full of silver packets and water bottles.

“We don’ get fresh food often, so we eat these,” Kraglin told us, opening a refrigerator door and pulling out 2 packets, turning them over to read something on the back. “Today’s Flicodian tentacles. Should have a similar taste to – what’s that meat thing you eat?”

“Chicken?” Peter asked. Kraglin shook his head.

“No, no, it started with a T.”

“Turkey?” I asked. Kraglin nodded. He walked over to some built in cabinets and pulled out two bowls, opening the packet and squeezing out what looked freeze-dried octopus tentacles. He went over to a nearby tap, and filled the bowls up, sticking them in what looked like some sort of microwave. When the timer beeped after a minute, he pulled the two bowls out, releasing a hearty aroma that did indeed smell a lot like turkey, and Peter and I found ourselves sitting at the long tables in the room, scarfing down the tentacles as if they were our last meal. Kraglin watched in amusement. I put down my fork.

“What?” I asked. He jumped in surprise, and suddenly the wall became very interesting.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. I shrugged, and continued to shove food down my throat, ad sat back happily when the last remnants of food were gone, and the bowl was empty. Back then, I didn’t notice the pink tint that haunted his cheeks.

  Chapter 2.5

Nebula kicked the punching bag. She kicked it again. Her father had given her another mission. And she wasn’t sure she would be able to complete it this time. At least she had Gamora to help. She kicked the bag again. Gamora wasn’t going to help. She would ruin her chances of ever completing it to keep up her status as most-favorable child. The star, his little-one. Nebula started to punch it repeatedly and finished it off with a roundhouse kick. It flew off its chain, and Nebula huffed, grabbing a bottle of water from the corner. She ignored the green alien with blue hair leaning against the doorway.

Nebula didn’t like the hair. This was the 5th time Gamora had attempted dying it and now it was a dark, ocean blue. It didn’t suit her.

“I know your upset with me,” Gamora said. She entered the room, her arms folded across her chest. Nebula gave another little huff, but other than that she screwed the bottle cap onto her bottle without a glance and went to pick up the punching bag.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Gamora said, her voice tense. Nebula turned to look at her with furious eyes.

“There is always a choice,” Nebula hissed. A ray of sunlight hit Nebula, and the silver prosthesis on her head glistened, causing Gamora to look away. “You had a choice not to fight me. To stand up to our fath – to him.”

She corrected herself. It was still hard for her to call him her father, the man who had slaughtered her family, her brother, her entire home planet. He who called her weak and worthless and forced her into impossible missions that almost always caused her to have to team up with Gamora, that back-stabbing wench of a sister. He who ripped out her eye for simply not besting her sister in a fight.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Gamora mumbled, grabbing her arm subconsciously. Nebula broke eye contact, grabbing the punching bag and attaching a new clip onto it, attaching it back to the screw in the ceiling.

“Did you need anything else, sis?” Nebula added a sneer on the last word, making Gamora’s stomach wretch horribly, her brows furrow and her heart twist.

“No.”

It was a lie.

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

The Forgotten - Part One

So this is a self indulgent story with my OC Aurora and the guys. I’ve been thinking about this story for about a year now and I figured it was time to get it out. This angsty bullshit is S.A.I.N.W inspired. And yes it will have smut. 

Feel free it put yourself in the place of Aurora

As she awoke from a restless slumber Aurora felt them shift around her, Raphael was behind her, a large arm draped protectively over her hip while her head rested on Leonardo’s lower plastron. Mikey had finagled himself between her legs, six fingers locked around her thigh in a vice grip and Donnie, the genius had somehow gotten under Leo’s legs with his face pressed into her naked midriff.

 No matter how much she wanted to move the thought of disturbing their peaceful slumber seemed wrong. The bed was a mess, the aftermath of their coupling the night before prominent and the scent of their activities still heavy in the air. Not to mention the wonderful dull ache at her core.

Aurora was content and the happiest she had ever been, it didn’t matter what happened around them as long as she had them everything would be alright. Being with all four of them was constant rollercoaster of ecstasy and adventure mixed with their own brand of chaos, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Being with four brothers willing to be intimate with one woman at the same time was extraordinary, mind blowing to say the least. Somehow, she managed to take them all in the same sitting, sometimes twice with their inhuman stamina. She had never known the possibilities of a sex life with four massive mutant turtles but usually by the end of their escapades she was exhausted, smiling like an idiot and filled with their seed. There was nothing better.

 When fingers began to wind through her hair combing through her blonde locks Aurora smiled contently knowing Leonardo had woken.

 “How are you feeling?” the terrapin whispered, his voice still hoarse from sleep, or perhaps from their exuberant romp from the night before?

 She shifted a bit getting some annoyed mumbles from the other brothers. “I’m good, a bit sore but that is to be expected when you take four mutant turtles in one night.”

 The terrapin chuckled giving her locks a gentle tug, “It’s your fault coming out the shower naked in front of four males with very high sex drives.”

 “Is there another way to come out of the shower I’m not privy too?”

 “There is no other way I want you to come out of that shower, that is unless your impaled on my cock.” His large green hand lifted from her hair and traveled down her cheek before a thick digit demanded entrance to her mouth. Aurora pressed her lips together tightly refusing the terrapin making him growl his displeasure. He pressed again and her lips parted taking the finger into the warmth of her mouth. Leo rumbled and rolled his hips as her tongue ran over the green invader sucking it further into her mouth.

 “Fearless, you’re gonna kill her.” Raphael mumbled softly pulling Aurora closer to his chest. “I thought I’d never say this but no morning sex today.  We nearly tore her in two last night.”

 “I’m not made of glass Raph.”

 “In that case.” Raph grunted playfully moving quickly to roll Aurora towards him and capture her mouth in a heated kiss. They ignored Leo’s protest and deepened the gesture moaning into each other’s mouths. Their lips parted and tongues collided while Raph’s hand moved down her midriff searching for her warmth but found Donnie’s head instead.

 “Hey, what’s the big….oh….hey……ok, ok I’m up for another game of hide the zucchini.” The genius reached down palming his morning wood stroking himself to full mass. “Don’t let Mikey hog her this time.”

 As Leo cupped a breast rolling the dark flesh of her nipple between his fingers Mikey began to stir, “Aurora.” He called gently pulling at her leg.

 Raph refused to give up his prey and pushed away Donnie’s head returning to his previous quest for Aurora’s cunt.

 Aurora’s thighs pressed into Mikey’s skull as Raph’s fingers slipped through her folds already soaked with her arousal sinking down to the first knuckle with ease.

 “Aurora.” Mikey called again but more urgently with a hint of something she wasn’t used to hearing from the naturally happy turtle.

 Breaking the kiss much to Raphael’s aggravation Aurora looked down at the youngest brother. “Yes Mike…”

 Everything came to a screeching halt, the atmosphere shifted in the room quickly and unexpectedly. There was Mikey dressed in tactical black armor with a long blade pressed to her inner thigh.

 “Mikey!” Aurora yelped trying to pull away from the blade but found herself pinned down by Raph and Leo’s hands unable to gain any distance. “What are you……” the words died on her lips as she looked up the eldest brothers finding them dressed in the same black garb. Gone were the soft looks and kiss bruised lips and replaced with malice and rage sending Aurora into full blown panic.

 Aurora yanked at their hands, “Donnie!?”  She looked to the tall turtle for help but to her horror the genius was gone. “Donatello!”

 “Aurora!” Leo yelled at her with his blue eyes wide and angry. His strong hands gipped her shoulder squeezing until she screamed from the bone crunching pressure.

 With a shout Aurora lurched from her bed and was met with a concerned April holding her back from racing from her sheets.

 Aurora’s chest heaved in the dim lighting of her room, her heart hammering against her chest and fresh tears stinging her eyes. Her hands frantically searched around the large bed finding only cold sheets, empty of their bodies reminding her of the cold reality she had to face every time she woke.

 “You were dreaming of them again weren’t you?” April’s friendly voice reminded her she wasn’t completely alone. It was a small consolation in the grand scheme of things, but Aurora was grateful for her.

 “Was it that obvious?”

 April’s hand left Aurora’s shoulders and sat on the edge of the bed, “You were saying their names.”

 Aurora’s hand ran over her face wiping away the stray tears and huffed out her frustration. When their eyes met again April nodded seeing the kunoichi wasn’t in any mood to talk about it.

 “Casey just got back; said he has something to show us.”

 “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll meet you in the war room.”

 “Take a cold shower Aurora, it’s hot out there.”

 Soon the room was empty leaving Aurora with her thoughts and a very big and very cold bed. With a heavy sigh Aurora laid back down, they haunted her almost every day, but the past few days had gotten to the point of torture.  

 Five years, three months and thirteen days of hell. In her mind it had seemed longer than that, but it had been that long since a man that went by the name Bishop had taken over New York. From there his reign spread like wildfire until the western seaboard was painted in blue and black.

 Anyone that had been captured by Bishop’s regime resurfaced loyal to the megalomaniac a few days later but with no memory of their previous life and with an innate ability to fight. It was a mystery, even to Don.

 Thankfully with the four mutant ninja turtles on the side of the resistance they stood a chance, they were the beacon of hope everyone needed. Leonardo quickly took up charge of the ground zero faction while Donnie took up the science and tech portion of the resistance. Raphael and Michelangelo followed their leader wherever he went his two right hand men followed by Casey making sure he didn’t get left out. Aurora found herself in surveillance and intel extraction while April ran the secret compound under Leonardo’s carful watch.

 In the chaos of Bishops surge of domination, the unthinkable happened, Donatello disappeared from the face of the earth. One day the genius had been in his lab trying to figure out how Bishop was converting his victims in such a short time and a few hours later when Mikey had gone to check on him the genius was gone. No trace, no note, no sign of a struggle, just ….gone. Left them all without closure. Did he abandon them, did something terrible happen? All of their conclusions seemed atrocious to think about. All they knew was the genius was gone leaving giant hole in their family. It had left the resistance without their chief scientist and engineer and Aurora and his three brothers heartbroken.  

 That day they lost Donatello wasn’t the end of Aurora and the resistances loss, as the war began to shift in Bishop’s favor their cause was rattled to the very core with another blow. Two years, ten months and two days to be exact…..but who was counting right? It had been nearly three years since that fateful day Bishop sprung his trap. Taking the remaining three brothers from the resistance, taking them from her. That day was burned in Aurora’s memory like a hot knife slicing through her every day she woke without them.

 It had been bad intel filtered through the enemies ranks to a one of their scouts, it was a testament to Bishops strategic genius. It was supposed to be a snatch and grab of a shipment of guns and ammo they so desperately needed for their cause. But as turtle luck would have it, a trap was waiting for them; a well thought out trap that left Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo captured struggling for freedom inside an electric charged lined box and Aurora along with the rest of their team fighting for their lives.  

 Aurora didn’t remember screaming as they were stolen away in that turbulent storm but Casey and several of her men remembered. It haunted the men for days afterwards making most of them to avoid the frantic kunoichi.

 It took four consecutive days of no food or sleep and hysterical unsuccessful searching for the turtles for April and Casey to finally force Aurora to bed with a well-placed sedative in her tea. It proved just how exhausted Aurora was to not notice the drug in her tea. She was trained to sense foreign substances in her food but when April set the warm cup in her hands Aurora drank the tea without thought.

 She slept for two days straight afterwards and woke with new determination and a fiery anger. But it fizzled after two longs years of searching, reconnaissance and research. They were no closer to finding the location of the turtles then they were when they were first taken. It was becoming hopeless and the hope the turtles instilled had faded from the rebellion.

 It wasn’t until they hit the two-and-a-half-year mark when Aurora, Casey and a handful of their men were staking out a truck loaded with some unknown tech when their world came crashing down around them.

 Aurora entered into her private bathroom that was meant for her and four giant behemoths and turned on the shower. The racks that held their towels were empty. The towels long ago lost their scents so they were packed away in little hope of their owners returning. Leaning into the lukewarm spray Aurora ran her fingers over the long scar on her abdomen remembering that horrid day. The day they found the three missing brothers and the agony of losing them all over again.

 It had been a cold fall night in late October and the intel they had gotten showed a manifest of unknown tech that required a special unit to make sure it made it to its destination. It had to be important so they had to intercept it, it might be the edge they needed to help them finally turn the tables.

 There were four large SUV’s in the convoy, two in front and two tailing the large semi with no markings. Aurora and Casey followed closely on the roof tops watching the semi make its way towards its destination. After traveling to a mostly abandoned part of town they ordered the strike and the team converged on the convoy. Their team took to the vehicles while Aurora and her hockey fanatic friend took the cab of the semi.

 Casey jumped on the door smashing through the glass of the driver’s door knocking the driver in the face and gripped the wheel. “License and registration!” the masked man yelled with glee punch drunk on smashing some skulls. It had been a while since they had some action, just like Raphael Casey thrived off violence. It got their blood pumping and the thrill made for a rather enthusiastic night of fucking. April and Aurora’s sore bodies the next day were evidence to their prowess.

 Aurora landed on top of the cab watching her friend have his fun ready to assist when a loud shuttering bang shook the metal she was perched on.

 “This party is invitation only blondie, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

 That voice, that fucking voice, her blood slowed in her veins while her body started to shake uncontrollably, “Raphael?” The hockey player and mission forgotten Aurora turned around to the ominous hulking frame of the brute, her brute. He was dressed head to toe in black combat armor, but his red mask remained, a cruel jab from Bishop no doubt. On his hands were fingerless gloves gripped tightly around his twin sai and that signature smirk played on his beautiful scared lips. It was still apparent the brute still worked out…a lot, she had no idea he could become more defined. In the moonlight the ridges of his muscles seemed to stick out more. Fuck he looked good.

 Her body moved on its own at the familiar sight of the red banded turtle. She allowed a choking sob break free as her arms came out reaching for the mutant. Unfortunately, the first contact from Raphael in three years was Aurora’s arm getting grabbed and roughly turned around rammed up against the front of the trailer with the business end of his sai in her spine.

 His weight pressed into her body and his scent filled her senses dulling her response time. “Listen here bitch, I don’t know how you know my name but there is no touching the fucking turtle.” His deep voice had venom to it as he dug the tip into her back gaining a pained cry from his captive.

 “Yeah not without buying him a drink first.” Another familiar voice came from above taking another painful squeeze of her heart.

 “Mikey!” Aurora screamed looking up to the vibrate baby blues of the youngest brother. “It’s me…oww fuck..it’s Aurora!”

 “Sorry lady you’re easy on the eyes in all but I got no clue who you are? All I know is you’re some place you’re not supposed to be, and we have a problem with that.” The end of Mikey’s chuck came down tapping at the top of her head. “But if you ask real nice, I’m sure I can convince Raphael here not to rip your arms off.”

 As if on cue the brute tugged back on her arms painfully. “Not likely. It’s been a grip since I’ve had some action.”

 The semi shuttered as the gears ground to a rolling stop, Casey must have gotten the driver out or subdued. She hoped the man had brought an extra pair of underwear because he was about to shit himself.  The door opened and her unsuspecting friend began to climb up to where she was, “Aurora, what are you doin…holy fucking shit! RAPHAEL! MIKEY!”

 Aurora pushed back into Raphael to give herself some room to move, “They don’t know us. They’re with him, be careful I haven’t seen Le…” as the color drained from Casey’s face and the cold steal of his katana pressed against her throat Aurora knew they had found the leader, or he had found them.

 “We don’t deal in mercy,” Leo’s cold voice came from next to her, she hadn’t even heard him get on the truck. “Especially with thieves. Secure her Raphael, Mikey get Friday the 13th there.”

 Casey yelped out his alarm and jumped back just as the smallest of the brothers tore after him.

 “I love when they run.”

 Raphael secured her arms more pulling her away from the semi so Leo could get a better look at their prisoner.  

 Aurora’s heart was going crazy as she looked upon his handsome face. He had the same dark clothes, but his protective armor was blue differing from Raph and Mikey’s black. His long sleeves had been pulled up to his elbows showing off his tattoo Mikey had given him so many years ago. Just like Raphael he had kept to a strict workout routine. Every part of him looked thicker, dense and mouthwatering. The scowl on his face on the other hand made the leader look dangerous, something Leo wasn’t supposed to look, not to her anyways.

 “She knew my name and Mikey’s.”

 “Is that so? We have never crossed paths; how do you know my brother’s names?” Leo stepped closer adjusting the long blade of his katana so it rested on her carotid artery.

 “I know you��re name too Leonardo.”

 His mouthed opened to speak but an explosion rocked the trailer knocking both terrapins off balance. Aurora took the opportunity and lifted her knees and kicked the blue banded turtle in the plastron sending her and Raphael back and off the truck.

 Raphael’s shell took the brunt of the impact as they connected with the worn-out asphalt and with the momentum of their fall they rolled. In the commotion Raphael’s grip loosened allowing her to escape and roll free from his arms. As she pulled her katana free and readied herself bullets began to rain down.  

 “Casey!”

 “Over here with our little ball of sunshine! If I’m not mistaken, I think he’s gotten better!”

 Aurora looked to the front of the parked semi and saw Casey struggling against Michelangelo.

 “I could use a little help!”

 “She’s a little preoccupied at the moment.”  She heard Raph growl to her friend as Leo joined him.

 Aurora retreated with each step they took towards her. They looked like to jungle cats stalking their prey, every step smooth and calculated. No matter the situation it was breath taking to witness even if she was at the receiving end of their wrath. Both of the alpha males had that look in their eyes as they stalked forward, hungry and determined. Usually that look sent heat to her core but today it only instilled fear because they were here to make her scream in another way today.

 “Come one Leo, Raph, how do you not know who I am?” her hands adjust the hilts in her palms and lowered her stance. “I need you to remember me, you love me.”

 This made both the terrapins bark with laughter.

 “Love you? Fuck lady I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s under that outfit of yours, but I don’t love ya.” Raphael howled in jest coming closer. “I could love parts of ya.”

 Leo’s smile faded quickly and advanced on Aurora lifting his katana to his shoulder, “A trick no doubt, she must be part of the resistance we need to take her for questioning. Capture do not kill, are we clear?”

 “Yeah yeah fearless, crystal clear. She needs ta be breathin’.”

 Then it began, both attacking with the speed she knew all too well. The only advantage to this fight was they didn’t remember Aurora had trained with them; hell, she had even taught them moves in their years together.

 Per usual Raphael advanced first sai out searching for the soft meat of her torso. He was predictable always straight forward so she knew what he was going to do next. Aurora dropped to one knee spinning from the jab just in time to block the twin blades belonging to Leonardo. Keeping the pressure on his blades the kunoichi turned her hips and kicked the brute in the chest plates sending him back on his shell with an angry grunt. She returned her attention to the main threat and pushed back against him. The metal sang and sparked from the force of their combined strength and the stoic frown plastered on Leo’s lips twisted up into a delighted leer.  

 “You have skills.”

 “You have no idea.” Lunging up her skull connected with his and she pushed. Startled by her quick move the terrapin gave to her strength and his blades went up losing one in the process.

 Dropping to her knees she spun kicking his feet out from under him and Leo went down hard. He responded in kind using his shell to his advantage spinning to return the favor. Jumping to his feet Leo took up his lost blade and advanced on Aurora who was already at her feet.

 By now Raphael had recovered and was just behind her and didn’t wait for an invitation. He lunged forward wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Aurora sheathed her weapons and used his momentum against him. Turning her body she gripped the thick forearms and bent forward pulling the terrapin up and over her shoulders.  The move caught the brute off guard and unwittingly followed through nearly hitting his older brother who side stepped the hurtling green mass.

 “Impressive, you just lifted 400 pounds over your shoulders. Only Michelangelo and I can manage that. Who taught you how to do that?” Leonardo lowered to a ready stance and cocked his head.

 “You did.”

 “Impossible.”

 “Is it now, do you want another demonstration?”

 Leo nodded, “Indeed I do.” He shot for her but this time Aurora grabbed a wrist and kicked forward, the bottom of her foot colliding with his knee. It gave out and she pulled him to her and flipped him over her knee and onto his shell.

Wasting no time Aurora straddled his waist and with the flick of her wrist a katana came free pressing the blade to the thick column of his neck, “Your down fall was underestimating me. I know more about you then you do of me.”

 The massive terrapin relaxed under her weight keeping his hands at his side. “Perhaps, but you have done the same. You tell stories about us knowing each other, even talking about love which means you won’t do anything to hard us. My brothers and I on the other hand have no knowledge of the fact which means we won’t extend the same courtesy.”

 Before she knew it the cold sheet of his kunai sliced through the soft tissue of her midriff spilling warm blood across his lower stomach.  And the man who had told her he would never harm her pushed her onto her back wrapping his hands around her throat. He shifted his weight which sufficiently pinned her under him unable to free her body .

 As her oxygen was cut off she could hear Raphael behind him, “I thought you wanted this one alive?”

 “This one is dangerous, it’s best to rid ourselves or her. Hopefully Mikey kept that human male alive.”

 She could maneuver around him and match his skill set but when it came to brute strength Leo had her beat 10/1. There was no way she was going to pry his hands from her throat. Her nails dug into the green scales of his wrists hoping to get a few inches to get air but only managed to gurgle a whimper. She could feel the warmth of her blood slipping down her sides and pooling under her body, Leonardo was going to kill her.

 His blue eyes bore down on her watching the life leave her body but it brought him no pleasure. Something inside him screamed for her release but Bishop wouldn’t be pleased with that outcome. She was the enemy and any high ranking resistance members were to be illuminated.

 Pressing down on her wind pipe Leo leaned down taking a pull of her scent. He froze and took a few deep breaths against her shoulder. It was familiar, her scent warmed his insides, and it was a strange feeling.

 “AURORA!”

 Her vision began to fade as her brain began to shut down, her throat was on fire and her body began to seize. Then her chest began to hurt like it was caving in on itself, this was death, it hurt. At least she got to see them one last time.

 Suddenly a barrage of bullets came their way ricocheting off Leo and Raph’s shells. Back up had arrived and swarmed the space. Leo’s hands released Aurora’s throat as Casey came hurtling towards him knocking Leo from her body.

 The next thing Aurora knew she was in the infirmary back at headquarters waist wrapped in bandages and unable to speak due to the swelling in her throat. April had told her that the truck was lost and Leo, Raph and Mikey had gotten away. The mission was a bust but at least they knew they were still in New York. That was something.

 That was six months ago and they had yet to run into the brothers again.

 With the water running cold Aurora finished up her shower and got dressed in a black leggings and a soft grey tank top. When she reached the war room she found it filled with April, Casey and a handful of their most trusted men and woman.

 “Welcome back ya goon.” Aurora wrapped her arms around her friend’s shoulders kissing his cheek. “Took longer then you planned. She’s been driving me up the wall with her mother henning.”

 April’s hands went to her hips scowling at the kunoichi. “Hey!”

 “Better you than me!”

 “No it’s not… so what did you find out?”

 Casey hoisted a bag up on the large table centered in the middle of the large room with a thud. His fingers hesitated on the zipper and smiled wickedly, “We know how he’s controlling them.”

 @imthegreenfairy88​ @ravn-87

Here it is on AO3

[feminist-propaganda]

The Star Wars Saga Is A Meditation On Single Motherhood

It recently dawned on me that the entire story line of the Star Wars saga is built on the lives, loves and tribulations of 3 generations of single mothers. There are monsters to slay and aliens to find and planets to explore, yes, but if you think about the powerful message in the movies, you’ll come to realize it was mostly a reflection on the status of single mothers, the outcomes of their offspring, and the conflict that lives forever in their descendants.

Each trilogy, once reframed, becomes the story of one woman, who finds herself in a situation that is as old as time. She is with child, but the person who planted the seed in her is not by her side.

Shmi Skywalker or The Good Single Mother

In the Phantom Menace, Jedi Knight Qui Gon Jin meets Anakin Skywalker, a slave boy with a talent for repairing machines. The Jedi knight is impressed with the child’s abilities. He’s knowledgeable, intuitive, and most importantly he’s also kind and thoughtful. When a sand storm threatens the group of travelers, Anakin takes them to his own home and offers them shelter. 

We meet Shmi Skywalker, who in many ways is the archetype of the good single mother. She is not just quiet. She has completely erased herself. She has no personality, apart from being Anakin’s caretaker. She expresses no needs, no desires, no dreams. She simply loves Anakin, and when she sees an opportunity for him to leave the desert planet ruled by the Huts, she doesn’t stand in his way. 

In a now famous scene, Qui Gon asks her about the child’s origins and Shmi famously responds “There was no father”. The line continues: “I carried him. I gave birth. I raised him. I can’t explain what happened”.

The immaculate conception myth refers to the idea in Christianity that Mary, much like Shmi, was impregnated by some magical force, a holy spirit. Both are parabols: images we use to discuss painful topics. Single motherhood has probably always been a part of the human experience. Jared Diamond explains in “Why Is Sex Fun?” that in terms of evolution, it is more rewarding for human males to be “super spreaders “ rather than “good fathers “ . The “good father” gene does not pass down to future generations, because in effect, not sticking around to raise the child is a better strategy for a human man to pass on his genes to the next generation. Not convinced? Just count how many women have been impregnated by a rapper like Future (8 last time I checked). If you’re not into hip-hop, you can think of the offspring of the Mongol Genghis Khan

The purpose of the parabol is to provide an image, to extract ourselves from the technicalities of onr person’s story and to instead talk about all single mothers at once. Indeed, single mothers come in all shapes and sizes. Some are widowed, some are abandoned, others are lied to, and some run away from abusive environments.

Shmi raises her son the best she can, and her love for him is unconditional. She doesn’t bat an eye when he is freed while she is to continue her life as a slave. She doesn’t even seem to mind when Anakin leaves the planet and never returns to free her, even after he marries into some serious money. 

But the story of Star Wars tells us that Shmi’s relationship to Anakin, because it was so fusional, because it was all that he had, led to his undoing. In Episode 2, when he senses she is in danger, he jeopardizes his mission to protect Padme to go rescue her. When he eventually finds her, he is so upset about her ultimate death that he commits mass murder, targeting the Tuskan riders of the sea of Dunes.

When Yoda first lays eyes on Anakin, he senses Anakin’s pain, he is just a child whose been ripped away from the only human that’s ever cared for him deeply. The turmoil inside the boy is palpable, and Yoda advises against training him. 

Padme Amidala or The Bad Single Mother

Anakin develops feelings for Padme, and in Episode 2 the pair decide to secretly get married in the lake district of Padme’s home planet Naboo. Their relationship is very intense. Both share a strong sense of civic duty: Padme was elected queen of the Naboo when she was just 14 &  Anakin is a keeper of the peace. They care deeply about issues such as how the galaxy must be governed, how much action needs to be taken versus when diplomacy must be prioritized. 

Their strong sense of service has made them lonely young people. They’re far away from their families, surrounded by advisors, servants and droids - not friends. 

They jump into their relationship with an eagerness that suggests it is their original caretakers they crave for.

Padme becomes pregnant while the Clone Wars are raging, and immediately Anakin begins to experience trouble with his sleeping. He imagines Padme is dying in childbirth, and the visions haunt him during the day. His fear that she will die ultimately leads to his decision to join the Dark side of the force. Senator Palpatine has manipulated him into believing that Sith Lords have discovered the power to prevent death itself. 

Just like his mother before him, we need to look at Anakin’s story in terms of symbolism. It isn’t really about his specific experience with fatherhood : it’s about the universal conflict that men feel towards their own offspring. Even the way it is announced to him, in the Senate chambers, barely hidden from the rest of the Coruscant elite, implies some sort of entrapment. The columns around them seem to be like a cage that is closing in on his life. He is in the middle of the Wars - he should be celebrating his victory over General Grivious, but instead he is stuck with his wife and he has to absorb her anxiety & reassure her. 

Anakin makes a weird, forced smile and says : “This is a happy moment.” But neither Padme nor the audience believe him. Nothing about him feels happy, he isn’t relaxed: he is tense.

At the end of Episode 3, Anakin attempts to kill Padme when she condemns the mass murders he’s committed against the younglings in the Jedi temple. Hr uses for the first time his “strangling” trick, which becomes his signature move in the original trilogy. 

Palpatine makes Anakin believe that he’s killed Padme, but the truth is somewhat more nuanced. She dies of heartbreak shortly after giving birth to twins. For anyone who thought this was corny, it’s actually been proven by the scientific community that heartbreak reduces your life expectation (it diminishes the size of the telomeres in your body cells, which is the molecule that helps replicate your DNA). 

As Lisa Feldman Barret wrote in How Emotions Are Made: 

Emotional harm can shorten your life. Inside your body, you have little packets of genetic material that sit on the ends of your chromosomes like protective caps. They’re called telomeres. All living things have telomeres—humans, fruit flies, amoebas, even the plants in your garden. Every time one of your cells divides, its telomeres get a little shorter (although they can be repaired by an enzyme called telomerase). So generally their size slowly decreases, and at some point, when they are too short, you die. This is normal aging. But guess what else causes your telomeres to get smaller? Stress does. Children who experience early adversity have shorter telomeres. In other words, emotional harm can do more serious damage, last longer, and cause more future harm than breaking a bone

More severe cases involve patients actually dying of a broken heart, the myocardia just collapses under the weight of the sadness the human feels.

The original trilogy should be re-viewed with all of this new information we have. In the 80s, when Empire Strikes Back came out, the “I am your father” line became instantly iconic. But the plot twist was more like an “Oh My gosh!” moment rather than a profound reflection on fatherhood. The audience sympathized with Luke not because his father had been absent and negligent, but because his father’s job was to serve a fachist leader. It was the actions of Darth Vader as a political servant that were questioned, not his refusal to nurture a smaller being. 

Padme is the opposite of Shmi. She is the archetype of the “bad” single mother. The bad single mother is the single mother who can’t deal with the situation and checks out of it. She collapses under the weight that she feels on her shoulders. She can't get over the heartbreak, she can’t find the will to live. 

Society tends to punish the Padme’s just as much as it praises the Shmis. Television programs like “Teen Mom” are set up to shame the young deviants into adopting the correct behavior. The purpose of the show is to judge these young women into becoming self-sacrificing mothers.

Leia Organa - The Non-single Single Mother

Leia Organa is Anakin Skywalker’s daughter. She is raised by an adoptive frailly on Alderaan after she’s separated at birth from her brother Luke. Much like her mother, she becomes a dedicated public servant, a trusted leader and a beloved public figure. 

She is raised by a wealthy family in the central galactic systems. The Organas teach her the ways of the elite political class. As an adult she serves the cause of the Rebels, and when she meets Han Solo in Episode 4, the mediocre smuggler fascinates her. 

In the now famous scene from Hoth in Episode 5, Leia declares her love for Han Solo right as he’s about to be frozen in carbonite. The ultimate bad boy responds his chilling, because realistic  “I know”.

Han is nothing compared to Leia. He drives a broken down ship, doesn’t have any morals or even a simple code of conduct, much less a cause that he’s dedicated his life to. He has nothing to offer her, and is definitely not in her league. But still, in Episode 6, the pair become an official item.

The last Trilogy was an opportunity to explore Leia’s experience with motherhood. By now we know that Leia’s grandmother was a “Good single mother”, she completely sacrificed herself to protect her son & more importantly she never questioned her status of sole caretaker (remember the “there was no father“ line). We also know that Leia’s mother was a public servant, and a passionate woman who allowed herself to fall deeply in love with a sensitive young man with a non existing support system. Leia’s mother was the “bad” single mother: driven only by her career (Queen of the Naboo, later a Senator of the Old Republic) she did not step up to the task when her destiny revealed itself to her.

Leia seems to share her mother’s taste in reckless young men with a lot of attitude and no emotional security to offer. It’s the excitement she craves, not the tranquility.

Her fate will be the same as her foremothers. She has a child with Han, but when she sends him away to be trained by Luke, she loses them both.

Their dialogue in Episode 7 goes like this: 

Han Solo : Listen to me, will you? I know every time you... Every time you look at me you're reminded of him.

Leia : You think I want to forget him? I want him back.

Han Solo : There's nothing more we could have done. There's too much Vader in him.

Leia : That's why I wanted him to train with Luke. I just never should have sent him away. That's when I lost him. That's when I lost you both.

The last trilogy develops Leia’s character in a way that allows her to be something else than just a single mother. She loses her husband, she even loses her son to the dark side: but she never loses herself. Leia doesn’t allow her condition to define her. She becomes a leader of the Resistance even if it means going after her son’s New order. 

In Episode 9, Leia even destroys her son to protect Rey - the symbolism is that she’s overcome her role as a mother, she’s rejected the notion that she must sacrifice everything for her son even if it goes against her own self interest (like Shmi). She also rejects the idea that her partner abandoning her is the end of her. It isn’t. Unlike her mother, she finds the will to live, and to lead the next generation of freedom fighters and peace keepers.

The saga ends on a hopeful note for all of us single mothers out there. It comes with a message for us : we don’t need to choose between the austere Shmi and the weak Padme. We can instead decide that this “single mom” problem is kind of like beauty : it lies in the eyes of the beholder.

Single moms don’t need to think of themselves as failures, they don’t need to live in modest conditions, they don’t need to beg society's forgiveness for merely existing. They don’t need to be ashamed. 

Single moms don’t need to erase their brains and their lives, and sink into an ocean of denial either. They don't need to be obsessed with their careers or caught up in romantic entanglements that are only going to exhaust them.

Single moms can just decide that they’re women, with beautiful, inspiring personalities and kind, loving hearts. Mothers are first and foremost, the leaders of the young, the protectors of the realm and the makers of the future. It’s not that it doesn’t matter that they’re alone. It’s that they don’t have to be alone at all.

[your-daily-dose-of-fandoms]

Hiii can you make an obanai x reader scenario wherein, obanai is always cold to s/o and s/o is always trying hard to be with him but he always pushes s/o away and always hurts her feelings until s/o got injured very bad he thought she's going to die. With a happy ending please :( i really love angst!! Thank you in advance!! 💖💖💖💖

Oh god my first angst request. Um, I love angst, so I'm really sorry if the beginning is liiittle bit too angsty. I hope you enjoy!

Obanai x Reader

"You're beautiful"

You had fallen in love. Hard. It was seen from the way you talked about him to the other pillars, it was noticed from the fact how he was in every dream of yours, and it was perceived from the longing gaze you would look after him with. He was every thought and dream of yours, and even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to let go of him. Deep down, you knew you would never be enough, you knew you were not pretty or smart enough. You were always lacking of something, even if you had everything. But you still tried. Because that's the thing about crushes, you're 99.9% sure that you'd get rejected, but that 0.1% keeps you going.

"Hey, Obanai!" You gained back your confidence and walked towards the snake pillar while waving your hand furiously. He turned to look at you with his almond-shaped, heterochomatic eyes, that made your heart pound heavily on your chest, as if trying to reach for your beloved one. You were so head over heels, that everyday, it became harded and harder to breath, as all you longed for was his arms around you. As you made it to him, his snake reached out for you, and you gave it a pat, trying to relax.

"What?" He spat back, and you could feel the self confidence you had had just moments ago, drain away into nothing. He was always like that, of course he was, but you wanted to believe that you could make him have a change of heart.

"Oh, um..", You started, looking away from his heterochromic eyes feeling almost impossible to you, as your heart kept beating rapidly against your chest, wanting to confess to him right here and now, shout out your feelings loud and clear to hung on the tense atmosphere. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his foot on the ground unpatiently.

"There is a festival kept in the town tonight and um, I was wondering if you possibly could come with me and um yeah- Only if you want of course, I'm not gonna force you or anything and um- Oh God, I'm rambling, I'm so sor-", Your nervous rambling was interrupted by irritated Obanai, as he was looking behind you at something.

"Oh please, could you just shut up with that stupid rambling of yours", He remarked, and you could feel your heart sink into your chest at his sharp words that cut up your last bits of self confidence like just whet knife. You bit your lower lip, a habit of yours you had adapted, as you took in a sharp inhale. Before you could say anything, Mitsuri walked up from behind you, and put her hand on your shoulder whilst smiling happily.

"Did you guys hear? All the pillars are going to visit the festival kept in the town tonight! Isn't that great!" She told with with a giggle, a blush covering her face as she observed Obanai. You smiled at her apologitecally.

"Actually", You sighed, giving a quick glance at Obanai as well, before turning your eyes to look at the love pillar in front of you.

"I think I'm gonna pass.. I'm not feeling so good, so i was thinking about going to sleep early", You explained, while bowing slightly as an apologetic gesture. Mitsuri pouted, but nodded neverthelssness.

"Aw, Okay", She told, while dismissing your bow with a wave of her hand, as she gave you a quick hug.

"Get better soon! And remember to drink lots of water!" She said, and you smiled at her tiny but enthuastic tone of voice. You then nodded at Obanai and turned around, walking away from the man, pieces of broken heart leaving a trail of agony behind you, telling a story no one would read. You did not dare to turn around and hear his response.

*

You were laying on your bed, sighing away your pain, as you stared at the wooden ceiling with absent mind. In reality, your mind was running, racing against your heart, in a competition where neither would win, as you tried to collect the scattered pieces of your confidence into one once again. You felt like you had no energy to do or be anything, as all you wanted to do was to lay there from dusk 'til dawn, waiting for time to pass and your heart to heal.

To you, it felt unbelievable that a man with just few harsh words was able to destroy your whole confidence complitely. You felt so vulnerable and weak. It felt so unreal, but the aching pain of love and rejection was reminding you of the reality. It felt like there was a heavy rock on your chest, and if you didn't fight back, it would forbid you from breathing. And for a while, you thought it didn't sound so bad.

When you had been on the bottom, the slave of drugs after the massacre of your family, nothing more than just trash, he had seen you as human. Or that's how it felt like. He saved you from demon, when you had already given up on your life.

And then he told you about The Demon Slayer Corps.

After that, he vanished, but his words never leaving your mind haunted you for countless of days, unless you decided to take up on action, and find the man he had told you about. You found him, and then you trained. Against yourself, time and the demons. You climbed all the way to the top, just to see him again, but when you did, he didn't even remember you. You were yet just another pillar to him, with no certain worth or value.

You tried to be nicer to him, get noticed by him, and even a single hi he said to you, made you beam like the sun. But it all had been in vain, as you now laid on your bed with a broken mind, heart and soul.

He was the only man you've ever loved, and your heart had sure made a shitty choice. You knew you had to give up on him at some point, but you were too scared to, you weren't sure if there would be anything left of you if you did.

You sat up on your bed, as you gazed at the neatly folded kimono on your night table next to your bed. You sighed yet once again, as you stood up, grabbing the kimono with you, gazing at the door of your room with hollow eyes.

Getting drunk sounded really tempting right now.

*

You were making your way down to the town, deciding that sulking in your room would do nothing good to you.

You had let your demon slayer outfit, along with your nichirin blade in your room, as you now wore a (f/c) kimono, the material of the fabric falling ever so smoothly over your fragike form. Your hair was falling down on your shoulders, glimmering in the moonlight, as you made your way through the path that led to the town.

The dusk had fallen over Japan hours ago, embracing its mountains and forest in dark, the clear night sky now upon it. The stars were shining brightly, covering the dark sky, bringing the otherwise empty space an unique look, that had pleased many eyes in the course of life. You inhaled the calm night air, that felt so peaceful compared to your raging emotions that felt so out of place, replacing it with the twirling emotions mixed with sadness, grieving, despair, and anger inside you, creating an empty void.

You could already see the town form in front of you, the music and laugh hovering in the air, as the flames of fire could be seen, licking the endless space above it. You sighed, only to hear someone walking from behind you. They stepped on a branch, the wooden stick cracking under them, as you quickly turned around with wide eyes. What you saw before was a man, no, a demon, in front of you, with wide grin on its face, as it had its pointer on its lips, as if telling you to be quiet. You gasped and then you fell unconcious.

*

Obanai walked out of the town, with a shake of his head. He was never been the one for parties, but yet he still had attended not to upset Mitsuri. When the moment had come, he had snuck away from the festival, into the calming night, almost opposite of his nerves. He took a deep breath, feeling the night around him, as he rubbed his temples, ready to go up on his tree and watch the stars when he'd get to his estate. However, what he did not expect, was the sudden change of atmosphere.

The night was quiet, almost too quiet, as he could feel shivers go down his spine. The atmosphere had changed from calm and peaceful, to tense, like if he took one more step, it would snap. He slowly drew out his sword, and kept on walking.

Others would call him paranoid, but he knew a demon when he sensed one. His gut was always right.

He slowly kept up his pace, looking around him, as he then heard the disgusting sound of a jaw, biting on human flesh. He knew that sound, and at the moment he heard it, he looked up on the tree, where the sound was coming from.

He froze.

He saw you, getting devoured by a demon. It had bitten on your leg, taking a small bite, as if tasting if it had picked out a good victim. As if, almost playing with the person he had made his food, a sick grin on its face. It had scratched the corners of your face with patterns that were otherwise pretty, but ugly in the matter, framing your face. Blood was flowing out of them, as it was looking at you with its hungry eyes, but as if taking a last look of its masterpiece. Obanai's breath hitched, breaking his total concentration breathing for the first time in years.

And at that moment, you woke up, and let out the most blood curdling scream of anguish from the top of your lungs, the most painful scream he had ever heard. He felt like time had stopped for him, as he let out a war cry, lunging towards the demon, as it had been taken back by surprise, its eyes widing as he saw a man striking at it, his katana ready to cut its head off.

It dodged, and Obanai hissed under his breath, letting out a string of curse words. You were panicking, trying to calm down your fast breaths and concentrate on breathing to stop the bleeding. You managed to do that, when your eyes that were wildly looking around you as if prey searching for its predator, landed on Obanai. You managed to calm your nerves, the calmer and logical took side of you taking over, adrenaline rushing over your body. Then you noticed the demon he was fighting against. You gasped.

"Iguro!! Look out! I think its blood demon art is to emit some kind of gas that makes you fall asleep!" You shouted out, and Obanai's focus faltered, as he heard you calling him by his given name. It wasn't enough for him to lose, as he just nodded at your advice, and changed from breathing through his nose and mouth, to only his mouth instead, the cloth over his mouth filtering the air. You sighed in relief as the snake pillar gave the demon the one last finishing blow, the demon falling on the ground, headless.

Obanai sprinted to you, as you felt the adrealine leaving your body, now pain taking over it, as you could feel yourself slipping off from top of the branch. Obanai was quick to catch you, as he put you on the ground gently, making you lay down while he was checking your injuries.

You watched his face as he observed your body, that was now falling limp. His eyes stopped at your right leg, taking a deep inhale.

"Is it that bad?" You asked, looking at his expression with a small smile. Finally he was showing off some other emotions than just anger and nothing. He was worried of you. He was never worried of anyone. But he was worried of you. And that made your heart skip a beat. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"You.. You just need to stay concious. You can do that, right? I'll carry you to the headquarters, where they can treat you", He explained all while unwrapping the bandage on his face.

"What are you-", You asked, and he looked at you with sad eyes.

"You need this more than me now", He said, his face now fully unbandaged, as you gasped when you saw his mouth. There was a wound, leading from the corners of his mouth to his ears, making it look more snake like. You gently lifted your hand to his face, brushing your fingers gently over the wound, while he was putting the bandages around your leg furiously.

He turned to look at you with tense look as you touched his face.

"Don't waste your ener-", He started, and the longer you gazed into his eyes, the more you could see how hurt he was. He was broken, in pieces, inside his eyes, was a hurting soul, reminding you of your own.

"You're beautiful", You whispered, and he flinched at your weak words, that had so strong intent behind them. He sighed and put your hand down, placing his arms under you.

"This is going to hurt", He told, and picked you up from the ground with a quick movement, as you let out a surprised yell of pain. You could feel him flinch at it under you, and your heart sunk. This was the most emotion he had showed in a while, and you were sorry that it was in a situation like this.

"Iguro..", You whispered out, as you could feel his muscles getting tense under you, as he was sprinting towards the HQ. His heart was pounding against his chest, but his breathing stayed calm and his face emotioneless, as he was staring ahead, a goal in his mind, you in his arms. If you were to die now, you were happy that it would be in his arms.

"I love you..", You whispered into the calm night, as the only sounds that were heard was his breathing and a pair of feet pounding against the gravel road. But you were pretty sure he could hear your heart pounding, as he grabbed on you tighter, holding you against his chest, as your vision started to get blurry.

"I'm so.. sorry.. that I couldn't stay awake.."

*

You woke up, as the rays of the sun kissed your (s/c) skin. Your furrowed your eyebrows, as you could feel aching pain in your leg, as it was throbbing, making your whole body feel dizzy. You could feel a weight on your side, as you carefully opened your eyes, squinting, trying to see from between your eyelids.

You gasped.

There he was, sleeping peacefully on a stool next to your bed, his head resting on his arms. You smiled and raised your hand, to run your fingers through his hair. He flinched under your gentle touch, as he slowly opened his eyes, you only now noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

He stared at you for a moment, trying to register what was happening. There was new bandages covering his face as he jolted up from his position and wrapped his arms around your body. You laughed happily, as you hugged him back, parting away a little from him after a while to caress his bandages. He hadn't yet said a word, as he was observing you with his pretty eyes, as you were smiling widely.

"Is it true?" He asked, and you let out a confused 'huh?', focusing your eyes in his again.

"What you said when I was carrying you", He told.

"Is is true?" He repeated himself, as he suddenly stood up, letting your hand caressing his cheek fall limp to your side. You bashfully looked away, a blush dusting your cheeks, as you did not dare to look at him into his eyes.

"Yes..", you confessed, as you felt like there was no reason to hide it anymore. You could hear him inhale, as you closed your eyes, waiting for a harsh rejection. Instead of that, you felt your hand getting lifted up, and pressed against his face. You turned to look at him with widened eyes, as you saw your hand resting on his cheek, as he leant his head on it softly.

"Good, because I think I'm rather fond of you too"

[dragoonaway]

Word Count: 1593

Synop: I wanted to kill my WoL off but then I was like nah nvm this is cool so here we are. When I played it out in my head it looked a lot better lmao.

It had been a decade, and she had not died yet.

Eorzea seemed to be okay, in this limbo of primal summoning and peace. There was no imminent war on the horizon, nor were they fighting for sovereignty anymore. Occasionally she would be called upon for an emergency when one of the beast tribes attempted to summon their gods in hopes they would listen to their cries for...whatever. She never bothered to really learn the reasons, they all sound the same after a while. The Scions had disbanded after a time, each going their separate ways and continuing on with whatever their work required. She was someone who was happy to fade into the stone of Ishgard, feeling at home in the snow and mountains. 

Though she was their champion and pioneering light to end the Dragonsong War, they treated her as someone who just wanted to be left alone. That was all she asked for anyway. Her days were filled with training the next league of dragoons and their dravanian mounts, other times she was away for a while with Estinien, finding the last of those affected by his song of vengeance and trying to distinguish the last of that flame. They had not gone through with a ceremony of bonding, they were fine with just the common knowledge that it was them against the world. The last two Azure Dragoons, and the very first Crimson Dragoons. 

Instead of death, she had become sanctified. The warrior who brought peace and unity to a kingdom so strife with division and war. The people knew peace now, knew how it meant to be a nation, and it had been that way for nearly a decade. 

The intelligence was interesting to be briefed on, though. Once again she was called upon, not to get rid of a primal however, but to protect her home. She didn’t call the Scions and requested for them to not bother, usually she had these things all handled. It’s not like they really helped her at all when it came to slaying primals, how would a small insurgence be any different? 

Oh, but it was so different. 

So, so different. 

She found herself restricted by invisible forces, so far greater than that of a god. Most of Ishgard’s army lay dead on the Steps of Faith, dragoons and dragons alike speared with their own lances. A force field stood glittering, separating her from Aymeric and Estinien, who watched with horror as the Warrior of Light was brought to her knees by power never encountered before. Maybe this would be her demise, then. Her blood was roaring in her ears, the steady beat of her heart picking up as she felt fear, truly, for the first time. 

This would be the end.

Estinien was yelling beyond the wall, his voice barely reaching her ears. Her opponent said naught, facing her with his faceless apparition, holding her life in chains. She wished she could reach Estinien, reach him and tell him to let her go. Self-sacrifice was a thing of the past, but they came for her. The fighting had stopped as soon as they got their sightless grip on her. For all that she loved, she was willing to go. Maybe it was time. She felt like it wasn’t, but the taxing title of Warrior of Light had an expiration date that might have been sooner rather than later. 

She watched her lance rise in the air, twirling delicately. The rush of her blood was louder in her ears this time and she could not feel the blessing of Hydaelyn anymore. There were cracks exploding in the air as all those attempted to break through whatever force field began to yield to the force of the Crimson Dragoon. 

But it was too late. 

The lance pierced the air, through her body, breaking her ribs with its force. Her breath was forced out of her, blood making its way up from her stomach, flowing at the corners of her mouth. She accepted her fate in those quick seconds, just as the force field shattered through Estinien’s sheer force of will. 

But in a moment of cruelty, this being sent her body off the Steps and into the Sea of Clouds, tumbling with her own lance piercing through. The last thing she heard before slipping into the cold hands of death was the great roar of Nidhogg as Estinien called upon the wyrm’s power.

Death, however, for the Warrior of Light, wasn’t all that simple.

No, she had been blessed, but not by Hydaelyn. 

“Hello, warrior of warriors.” The draconic words floated into her subconscious, and she found herself among the stars, resting among a seal of draconic magic. Ratatoskr’s celestial form stared into her, the blue fire of her making cradling the warrior in its painless flame.

“Ratatoskr.” She breathed, confused and yet thankful she wasn’t dead just yet. Or maybe she was, and this was some weird allusion to an afterlife for the dragoon that was blessed by Hraesvelgr. 

“I heard mine brother’s cry at thy death. The knight that is thine mate knows naught except pain, akin to Nidhogg. He rages but cannot exact vengeance for thy demise with mine brood-mate’s power threatening to erupt. I fear the Dragonsong will be sung again, but mayhap all of Eorzea rather than thine kingdom alone.”

A scene in her mind’s eye. The storm of fire racing down the Steps of Faith, burning corpses to ashes and lighting stone to burn. Estinien was barely visible among the power, but he was there. On the brink of losing control, and yet at the same time composed with hurt burning in his eyes. She could see the slight glimmer of wetness on his cheeks and her heart broke. Though her and Estinien were not ones for words of love and affirmation, just subtle shows of their feelings in action and partnership, it was beyond all that was ethereal her love for him. They did not discuss it, but in whatever mystical way the Eye worked and the power of the Azure Dragoon fated them together and forged a bond much deeper than that of every day. It has been that way for ten years, and she’d be damned to let it go now.

“I would give thou mine blessing, if for one condition.”

The great beast was certainly terrifying, but she felt a certain kinship with this great wyrm, dead or alive. “Anything.” She whispered into the void, her voice harsh with emotion. 

“Let me consume thou as Nidhogg consumed thy mate, and for one last time, let us defeat your opponent. Then I will restore thine soul and yet again thou shalt see another dawn.”

At this point, she’d give all her aether away just to kiss that Elezen one last time.

In a sudden rush of life and power far greater than she has ever known, she came crashing down onto the steps beside Estinien. Her corporeal body was nowhere to be seen, just this apparition hemmed in an azure flame. She was not in control here, though. Looking to Estinien, she saw the reflection of Nidhogg mirror Ratatoskr’s shade, and she glimpsed a play of emotion on the dragoon’s face that she had never seen before. He knew what was happening, though, and the subtle bob of his throat told her enough. It was time to swallow hurt, in order to triumph for another day. 

The lance of aether she wielded in this form raised, with Estinien mimicking, and together they summoned the shades of the great wyrms to the Steps. No greater power existed beyond this moment right here, as the strength of eternity barreled its way towards the slaughterers. In a great burst of dragonfire, swirling between red and blue in a show of mystical prowess, her slayer ceased to exist. The cloak it wore lay empty on the stone, the being or whatever it was banished into a realm that would bar it from ever entering again.

And then it was over, the shades disappearing into the mist and her with it.

“Thank you, warrior of warriors.”

Estinien, as strong as he was, could not stand any longer. He sunk to his knees, lance skittering across the stone. He had no voice anymore, nothing left to scream, nothing left to yell. He had destroyed her murderer with the warrior at his side, yet she did not stay. He thought he knew the pain of death when his family was taken from him in such a violent way, and he carried that every day, but this was fresh. He could no longer feel her soul tugging on him, letting him know that she existed in the world. His equal, his partner, a piece of his life force.

All taken away.

“She lives yet, dragoon.” A haunting, familiar rumble that spoke sweet nothings that held no truth.

But then she was there, surrounded in a ring of fire. Her armor untouched, her lance at her side, unconscious on the ground and yet whole once again.

Remaining composed was on the forefront of his mind as he gathered her body in his arms, watching life rattle through her as she took a frail breath. Aymeric had reached him by now but understood that perhaps silence is better than trying to get in his way to make sure the Warrior of Light was still alive. The lord of Ishgard gathered the great relic lances and followed in Estinien’s stead, bringing her home.

[tsunmercenary]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸

The ticking of the clock was deafening in this silence. Gloved fingers tapped endlessly at the steel of her sleeves along with the rhythm of the clock’s ticking. Her feet shifted periodically to rest atop the other as they found no refuge from the cold floor beneath. Her toes curled and eyes wandered around the waiting room, anxious for the upcoming interview. The Hoshidan noble faced down the likes of bandits, enemy soldiers, and the likes of her father’s hideous abomination of a form, yet a simple interview seemingly intimidated her. Perhaps she should’ve allowed her older brother to accompany her like he asked, yet Corrin was adamant in proving she was adult enough to go alone.  It wasn’t that she lacked the maturity, yet, she lacked the social skills to uphold her confidence in front of an audience. What if she answered a question wrong? What if they’re overly strict? 

“Corrin?” The voice of the interviewer called out, the sound snapping her out of whatever inner dilemma she was griping with. Quick to not keep them waiting, she stood to her feet, brushing her royal blue cape backwards, before walking to greet them. Corrin’s gloved hand extended out to meet the interviewer’s, who met her’s halfway. 

“Right this way, please.” 

The interviewer seemed polite enough, which eased most of her fears, though the anxious anticipation of what questions would be asked of her still remained in full. After being led down the hall, Corrin entered the office of the interviewer. The male gestured her to sit across from his desk, which she obliged. Lifting the ends of her cape to tuck them back, she took her seat, a soft breath exhaling from her lips. 

Slipping glasses upon his face and a pen in one hand, the other holding the clipboard, the interviewer cleared his throat, looking to the princess. Surely he could tell how nervous she was, considering her slightly stiff posture. He simply offered a soft chuckle before showing a reassuring smile across his lips, his voice coming out relaxed, “Just breathe. I’m only going to ask you a few questions. Just be truthful, don’t overthink, and let it flow. Alright?” 

“Yes, I can do that. Apologies for being so stiff, I’ve never done an interview before.” She offered up her own laugh, which shook a bit as it came out. 

“Not a problem at all. Interview anxiousness is more common than you think.” 

Those words offered up a bit more relief to the princess, allowing her to finally settle into her chair. As they loosened, her muscles lightly ached due to being tensed for so long. 

“What has led you to where you are today?” 

Her hands came together, fingers interlocking with one another as she pondered the first question presented. “Right, my past is a bit..complicated I should say. As a young girl, I was raised within my native kingdom, Hoshido. Hoshido is a beautiful land, filled with blossom trees, bright green grass as far as the sea, and a breeze that always felt so warm across my face, no matter the season. There, I was raised by a beautiful woman, who’s voice could lull any rampaging dragon to sleep.. and a man who’s sword held just as much weight as his wisdom and kindness. At least, that is what I was told.” 

She smiled just a bit, the happier memories flooding her mind with warmth until it began to lower and fade into that of darkness. “The neighboring kingdom of Nohr often held conflict against Hoshido, so much so that war seemed inevitable. That was, until my father agreed on a peace treaty with King Garson himself. He set out with myself to meet him at the border. Being an innocent child, naive to the criticalness of the situation, I held my father’s hand, just like I did time and time again. Who knew it’d be the last.. Neither of us could’ve predicted what was to come next.” 

Crimson Irises lowered to the table as vague memories began to come rushing back like a raging tidal wave. The sounds of arrows piercing flesh and the screams of her father echoed out as if he stood mere meters away from her chair. What was once happy, warm-felt memories, now cooled into dark and cold nightmares, which swallowed them up within shadows. It was as if her thoughts manifested into a dark entity, gripping onto her wrist with malicious intensity. Corrin could hear the cries of her younger self, being dragged away from her father’s dying corpse by a monster shrouded in darkness. Slightly, yellow stained teeth and predatory eyes stared down at her. It took another few, agonizing moments to finally snap from her thoughts, shaking her hand free of what she now realized to be her own grasp. Her hand seemingly tightened with anxiety and fear from reliving that moment. So much so that they shook upon release. 

The interviewer was about to voice his concern, yet she shook her head in dismissal. 

“Sorry.. it’s quite the harsh memory.. scary even. After I was taken, I was raised in Nohr for about ten years. The land of Nohr was vastly and terrifyingly different from what I was used to. Dead trees that seemed like ragged, wilted hands rising from the dirt to grasp whatever was in sight. It was always cloudy, and dark, with a bit of rain. I spent just about all of my time there within a tower, training to become a knight to show my worth to the king.. to my “father.” Looking back, I believe I was nothing more than a trophy, flaunted as a slap in the face to Hoshido.” 

Her eyes wandered up towards the male, widening upon seeing his expression. He looked intently, as if interested. His eyes didn’t seem dull from boredom, but alert. Though, she worried she was taking too long to finish.

She shook her head once more, brushing a strand of silver hair back and behind her ear, “I’m going on far too long, I should wrap up. Uhm, sorry sorry, it’s really long-“

“No no! There’s no rush, lady Corrin, please continue. Take your time.” The interviewer reassured. 

Corrin took a breath to recompose herself, “Despite being so miserable in Nohr, I had my own family there. Siblings that cared for me, served as the somewhat parental figures that I lacked. War broke out between the two kingdoms and when it came down to choosing sides, I went back to my homeland, to fight along side my true siblings.” 

There was a moment of silence between the two as her face contorted a bit, trying ever so desperately to hold in her emotions. Despite her best efforts, however, she couldn’t help but become overwhelmed by grief. When she finally did speak, her voice was higher pitched and slightly strained. 

“It broke my heart to break away from siblings that truly loved me in Nohr and I loved them as well..” A tear gently fell down her cheek, leaving a trail as it traveled downward to finally fall from her face. “I’ve physically been with them longer than anyone. I’ve played with them, cried with them, they were damn near my family as well but I couldn’t just stand by and allow Nohr to mercilessly attack and destroy a kingdom that only wanted peace! Leaving them was the hardest decision of my life. And to see the look of heartbreak, betrayal, and eventually anger upon their faces have truly haunted me ever since.” 

The interviewer kindly offered some tissue, which the princess gratefully took in hand, wiping her tears. When she felt she could continue again, she continued,

“ After what felt like an eternity of war, I’m here now after it finally reached its end. It was my brother’s idea in sending me here to sort of recover and cope from the horrors of war without having to be constantly reminded of the blood I’ve shed myself. Some time away from the kingdom would be good for my mental and I can agree. I believe I should lend my strength and support to Fodlan. Perhaps through my deeds, I can heal.”

The interviewer nodded, writing down notes before moving to the next question.  

“What are your strengths and weaknesses?” 

“Ah, my strengths are definitely my sword fighting skills. I was trained ever since I was about ten years old, after arriving in Nohr. I’m rather efficient with that and I tend to use my draconic form to aid in battle as well. Though, my most notable strength has to be my motivation in uniting everyone. Keeping all safe and together. I’ve seen what war brings and the last thing I want is for it or needless violence to erupt again. Unfortunately, it serves as a double edged sword.. my pacifist ways have endangered lives before and I’ve had to gripe with that. I’ve been told that I’m over-trusting at times. Although it’s gotten better and I’ve developed into that of a more defensive fighter upon the confrontation of any threat, I’m not the one you should consider sending first into battle if it’s for.. preemptive measures.” 

 “Alright,” the interviewer breathed, his pen lowering down to the last question, tapping it with the tip. 

“If a story were to be written about your life, what role would you play?” 

This question stomped her, her eyes lowering to the table. She pondered for a minute or two, eyes shifting from the table, down to her hands, which were once again, enclosed within one another. Finally, with a deep breath, she looked to the interviewer before speaking, “None. If there were to be a story written about me, I’d opt to not be apart of it or even attend.” 

This took the interviewer by surprise. He would imagine if someone weren’t to participate in a performance of their life, at least they would attend.

 “You wouldn’t attend at all?” 

She merely shook her head, her smile returning as she laughed, a bit embarrassed that she bewildered the interview in such a way. 

“I mean, I’d be flattered, don’t get me wrong. But I wouldn’t want to attend. I’ve made so many mistakes, made turns where if I took another route, others would still be alive. Reliving such events wouldn’t bode well with me, honestly. I’m not someone who should be honored in anyway, shape, or form. I can’t change the path I’ve taken, but I can at least strive to look forward with optimism and work to make life better.. for everyone. But, I’d happily attend another’s, especially if they asked.”

The interviewer wrote his last notes down before standing to his feet, quickly followed by Corrin. He extended a hand out with a smile, Corrin meeting his half-way and shaking it. 

“I believe we’re done. I’ll contact you on your application process, lady Corrin. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”

“It was a pleasure to speak with you, and I thank you for your consideration. I truly am honored to have such an opportunity.”  

@theofficersacademy

[risingsouls]

Conversations: 3

[Part 3 of what should def just be called my self-indulgent and soon to be shippier bs. The shippy isn’t REALLY there yet but the chemicals are reacting, as they say.]

“I have another question.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Vegeta eyed Nabooru from across the campfire, usual frown twitching a touch lower. The flames danced in her gold eyes. Had it not been for the dinosaur steak roasting over the fire, the offered view of the flame’s glow illuminating her against the early night sky might have been pleasant. “Well, go on. I’ve indulged you every other time, why should now be any different?”

The Gerudo reached out to turn her dinner for an even roast. Considering their last encounter, how the train of conversation intensified to a point that felt as though the slightest movement would trigger violence, she almost didn’t expect him to let her follow through. A whole week passed before he returned to the wasteland for a spar and, while she tried not to dwell on it, to accept that she pushed too far and overstayed her welcome, or, harder to swallow he didn’t consider her a worthy sparring partner any more, it had bothered her more than she cared to admit aloud or to herself. When she hit the low point of considering finding him herself or showing up at his place of residence--a tidbit of information she picked up at the tournament if she couldn’t sense him--she threw herself into her own training. A good long span of survival training without the use of her ki helped clear her head and consider ways to move forward with her growth on her own once more.

“This one might be personal.” She snorted at the raised eyebrow he gave her and amended, “In a different way. Like about your body sort of personal.”

“What?” His expression morphed into a scowl. Heat soared into his cheeks and he glanced away to keep her from noticing it. “What the hell would you need to ask about my body?!”

It took a second too long for her to realize why her words caused such an indignant reaction in the prince. “W-wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m not--!” she sputtered, trying to regain ground. “Ugh, I’ll just ask. You and Nappa are both Saiyans, but he has a tail and you don’t. Did you have a tail at some point, too?”

Vegeta felt the blush flee from his face and his heart rate slowly returning to normal, but her inquiry did nothing to quell his sour expression. He turned it back on her. “Of course I had a tail. All Saiyans are born with them.”

Had. Considering the tidbits of his past she knew, she feared the worst. Frieza was obviously a racist bastard that feared his kind. Had he taken it? If so, why hadn’t he lobbed Nappa’s off? A warning? Another sort of message? Nabooru pulled the steak from the fire and extended it to him. A peace offering, a silent apology. A way to cool him off and keep talking if only for her own curiosity. “What happened to it, then? Or is yours special and invisible?”

Snatching the proffered meat, sharp canines tore into it. He ignored the burns to his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he chewed. “Got cut off,” he rumbled around the bite before taking another.

Nabooru failed to stop her eyelids from lowering and the corners of her lips dipping downward in an unamused frown. Rolling her eyes, she popped up to her feet and strode over to the carcass a few meters away from their camp. “Should I ask you how or why?” She considered summoning a ki sword but instead pulled one of her dual blades from her hip, if only to strike back by annoying him as he was her. When he found her earlier that afternoon training with her trusty blades--the weight welcome in her hands, the technique of wielding them so embedded in her muscle memory she lost no time delving into her old routines and toying with new ones--he had made it plain he didn’t care for such weapons. She brought it down in a swift arc, slicing another steak from the beast’s tail. Noting that he was halfway through the one in his hands, she hacked off another for insurance. “Or would I be wasting my breath?”

Though the rage from that particular day had long since dulled to a weak summer thunderstorm when given half a thought, Vegeta avoided considering it. A successful endeavor so long as his mind cooperated and no one reminded him of it. The day his life was upended and flipped upside down, never to return to a proper orientation even after all these years. His whole understanding of himself, his place in the universe, his strength and prowess as a warrior...all of it ripped to shreds and uncertain. Sometimes, it all still felt like an extended nightmare and he would wake up in his pod on some new planet to conquer with Nappa and Raditz at his side. Such moments were fewer and further between these days, but he once more found himself on precarious footing with no clear goal for himself. No clear desires. A murky identity despite his best efforts to conceal just how lost he felt through declarations of his princely status to a dead race.

Their last conversation had reminded him of it and, as he tended to do when he needed to feel like he was accomplishing something and forget the world around him, he trained day and night until exhaustion forced him to rest. Then he awoke a fee meager hours later and did it again. He lost at least a week this time, if the last message Nabooru sent and he replied to and her off-handed comment earlier was any indication.

"A fat man cut it off," he began between bites of meat. He swallowed, watching her prepare the next steak on the spit. "Never saw him again after. Best for him because I'd have killed him if I did."

An empty threat, likely. He had promised the others there that day the same fate but failed to enact any of them. A waste of energy, he told himself. But deep down, he simply knew it was a death wish when he still tailed Kakarot in power. And though back then he wished and sometimes still considered if he would have been better off sharing the same fate as his people, obliterated to space dust to forever float among the cosmos and join them in Hell, his fire to reclaim his honor and place as the most powerful Saiyan kept him alive.

Nabooru knew her follow up question was predictable, but if he found it annoying, he could easily amend it by filling in the proper details without prompt. "A random fat man just cut off your tail?" she asked, tone devoid of humor despite the image parading through her mind. "Seems rather random."

"It wasn't." Her steely gaze pinned him to the spot, full lips thinned and an eyebrow lifted. A chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he could imagine--almost feel--the missing appendage in question flicking in idle arcs of amusement. He finished the last bit of meat slow, relishing the taste and her mounting frustration over the game he played. "Our tails are what allow us to transform into the mighty Oozaru. He cut it off to return me to my normal form.”

“Another transformation? Like your Super Saiyan thing?”

“No, not exactly. During full moons, Saiyans transform into giant apes capable of leveling planets. Hence why our talents were in demand for someone like Frieza and his family.” He wiped his mouth with his arm. “Plenty of us could do it without the transformation, but using the Oozaru form was typically faster and more difficult for enemies to strike down.”

Nabooru whistled low, fascinated by the idea. She leaned forward and twisted the meat to the other side. “Mm, so then cutting off your tail was actually strategic of this mystery fat man?”

“You give him more credit than he deserves,” the Saiyan huffed. “Kakarot and his friends got lucky the first time I touched down on this damn planet. The clown was dead to rights, and had those idiots not shown up to our battle…” He trailed off, unsure of how that would change his fate and certain she could fill in the blanks herself. Where would he be now had he destroyed Kakarot and his friends that day? Still serving Frieza? Ruler of his own empire like his father promised him? Dead?

She opened her mouth to respond, pointing out that technically Goku hadn’t defeated him that day exactly by that detailing, but reconsidered. Another sore spot that, if she understood right, sparked his rivalry with the other Saiyan. His need to surpass him and defeat him in battle. She could understand that; she wouldn’t care for such an outcome either, and would crave a proper rematch. She suspected the blow to his pride ran deeper than just the need for a rematch, however. Like her, his warrior status was intrinsically tied to his identity, and the loss to Goku had shaken that, the reverberations of which he still obviously battled with.

“Why is it that I’m the one always answering questions, anyway?” Nabooru glanced up from the flames at her company. His muscular arms were folded over his broad chest, and he watched her with narrowed eyes. She blinked, and when he didn’t amend his inquiry, she replied, “Because you’ve never really asked me anything?” She lifted a shoulder. “I never talked much about myself because I figured you weren’t interested. I didn’t think you would like such a breach our quasi-master-student relationship or really care to listen.”

“And all of your questions didn’t do that already?” He sneered when all she offered was another shrug in response. He had no one to blame but himself on that front. If he really took offense to her interrogations, he could have ignored her. But the ease of conversing with her lulled him into blathering on about his past. And, if he wanted to know more about her in turn, a possibility he tried to deny due to its futility, he had no reason to doubt she would answer in kind. Her being a warrior as passionate as he was about improving herself had piqued his curiosity at her tournament, and her final words that all but ended their tense conversation a week before haunted him, further prodding the desire to uncover her past. His reasonably cynical mind deemed it pointless, an effort to form an unnecessary bond, and, until outwardly admitting it moments ago, he had conveyed such a mindset to her successfully by not partaking in asking her his own questions. But a part of him he could not pin down--simple curiosity? Loneliness? Hope of finding someone who could even remotely relate to him in more than basic ways and that didn’t annoy him too much?--begged him to ask similar questions to those she asked him and learn more. With his outburst, he had little choice but to follow through.

Another huff blown out through his nose. “Fine. You said you didn’t get to kill your Frieza. Who was your Frieza?”

Nabooru hid her surprise in his follow through by casting her gaze to the steak and turning it slowly. Habit and buried bitterness made her want to question his sincerity in asking: did he really want to know, or was he just trying to get back at her for all of her inquiries? She didn’t usually share her experience with anyone, and most were too caught up in themselves or completely unaware that she and her people hailed from a different planet and would never think to ask such questions. She kept most at arm’s length outside of the Gerudo to not only shield her emotions but to, perhaps, better cope with the past and the loose ends she left behind. It’s success felt questionable most days. 

“He was the King of Hyrule,” she said, deciding at length that Vegeta wasn’t the type to bring something up if he wasn’t genuinely curious. “Well, really the monarchy of Hyrule. Perhaps the whole country in its own way.” Gold eyes flicked up to him, assessing. “It’s...a long story. It would take a bit to help you underst--”

“Try me.” A challenge issued out of both his undeniable interest in her tale and annoyance that she tried to deflect his question when he answered all of hers (nevermind that it took some coaxing on her part). “You and I seem to have little more than time, so get to explaining. Not so fun being on the other side, is it?”

She chewed her lip and pulled the meat from the fire. She turned it over, once, twice, then handed it over to Vegeta instead. “Well...as I’m sure you guessed, the king and his people were not very fond of mine. Decades of friction from how we fought the longest and hardest in the Civil War, and likely could have won if our supplies and numbers had held up. In the end, we surrendered and joined the other nations in signing a treaty of unity, but the spoils were tactically skewed against us. It offered a semblance of peace, ensured our sovereignty as long as we played by their rules. It did not, however, help us secure better lives for ourselves in expanding outside of the desert for farmland nor did it open up the trade that had been restricted. Though they blocked every request, despite our people dying from the war draining our supplies and a desert not being the most hospitable home, we did our best to find ways to survive while trying to play their games of diplomacy and peace. It was hard not to see it as an orchestrated, slow strangling and punishment for our near success in the war.”

Nabooru paused, the next portion of her story lodging a lump in her throat and igniting a furious flame in her belly. She still struggled to talk about certain bits, the memories painful and the feelings of shame stilling her tongue. Perhaps another time she would illuminate Ganondorf’s role and her betrayal in more detail. For now, she could work around it for the most part.

“Our king...he lost patience with them and staged a coup on his own. He was captured before he could get too far and...imprisoned, likely to be executed. It only fueled the hatred Hyrule had for us, as well as their fear because they assumed we would pick up where he left off.” She stabbed the spit through the remaining stake with unnecessary ferocity. “Whole groups, including people of the court called for our complete eradication. It was considered radical at first, niche groups popping up here and there, but it quickly gained traction, and the king nor his lackeys ever denounced it all, despite the peace treaty and our insistence to uphold it. I had taken over as leader and tried everything I could to convince them, to stave off the growing violence and once more try to save my people and give them a sustainable life. To play their game like they wanted. It did no good. I was laughed out of every meeting.

“Back home, we were split. We were all angry, desperate, and many called for war, even though we could never win with hardly the supplies to sustain ourselves in peacetime and being horribly outnumbered by the rest of Hyrule. Others suggested we take our chances with the desert before they storm our gates.” She swallowed, staring into the fire, reminded of the torches they bore and how it glinted off their steel as they swarmed their home. “We didn’t get the chance to make the decision. Soldiers and civilians alike stormed the fortress en masse. We fought as long as we could, but we had to make the decision to flee into the desert. Only those that made it here survived.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Tears of mourning, of shame as a warrior who was forced to flee rather than face her attackers and die a warrior’s death or come out victorious with the King’s head on a pike. No matter how reasonable, no matter how she had helped save at least some of her people and helped them flourish in another home, it felt cowardly. Unfinished business never set well with her, but, at the same time, she wasn’t entirely sure that, given the chance, she would go through with making the dreams of storming Hyrule and leveling it with her newfound power a reality any more. The fleeting satisfaction it would bring didn’t feel worth it.

Somewhere during her story, her fingers had woven into her ponytail to glide through the crimson tresses. She snatched her hand out of them as if they had burned her and burrowed both hands into the space between her crisscrossed legs. “While I took down plenty of those who attacked us, I didn’t get to kill the king or his court or anyone else who wished me and my people dead. That’s why I said what I did. I understand that yearning for...well, I don't know what to call it. Justice? Revenge? Closure?”

Vegeta had slowed the pace of his eating as she spoke, nibbling on the hunk of meat rather than tearing chunks from it. Many of her people were killed out of fear of their might and potential--as warriors and in what they might do--and they were forced to flee because of it. He could easily see why his own history resonated with her, the parallels uncanny. And she was their leader for a time, a fact he could have guessed at considering the others still seemed to turn to her for guidance, likely out of habit, and the way she carried herself among them. They both understood the pain of failure, of helplessness to change anything due to lacking power or sway to do so. She at least didn't grow to resent the survivors of her kind, or shove them away because they were weaker or deemed useless. She had the chance to learn to be a proper leader. His only guidance in that department was Frieza. 

He grit his teeth; he hated when he realized just how similar to that bastard he had been. How many of his habits and practices he picked up unintentionally just to survive.

“All three, I suppose,” he mumbled at last, choosing to stare at the meat in his hands than make eye contact. “Maybe someone else got vengeance for you and your race.”

His words didn’t make her feel better, but she suspected they weren’t meant to. “Mm, somehow I doubt it. People like that always live longer than they deserve to.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and turned her steak. “You still wish it was you, then?”

Vegeta popped the last bite in his mouth and chewed it slowly. He didn’t miss the bitter hope in her tone. Her gaze finding his despite his best efforts to avoid it. For what, though? Someone to understand? For someone who was anything but “normal” to validate the hollowness of a vendetta not claimed? 

“It should have been me. But the universe thought Kakarot had a better stake to the claim than me.” He didn’t mention his own son cutting Frieza to pieces like he was nothing and, to add salt to the wound, did it as a Syper Saiyan as well. “But...yes. I suppose I do. Not so vehemently as after the fact, but I will still say he was mine to kill after all the shit he put me through. After all he took from me.”

Nabooru remained silent for a while, offering only a nod of agreement in answer, the crackle of the fire and the howl of a coyote in the distance the only sounds. Though the ache remained, they had both figured out how to manage. Perhaps not in the healthiest of ways but maybe they could help each other with that. The thought surprised her; did she really expect this sparring arrangement and conversing like this to be long term with no real indication that it would continue even the next day? Once more she had to contend with her potential want for his company, not just anyone’s. A confusing revelation, since the last decade or more of her life had been spent consciously avoiding creating such bonds and pretending she didn’t want them outside of the few Gerudo she had already established them with. 

"Hey."

The Saiyan returned his attention from a lizard scaling a nearby rock to the woman with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

Nabooru bit her lip, a smile tugging her lips. "Want to spar? The night is young."

He stared at her, confusion still present on his features. "What about your food? You need to eat or you won't have the energy to make it worth my time."

"What are you my mother or just scared?" She rose to her feet and smoothed out her pants, kicking sand onto the fire. "If you really want to play that game, you obviously need to get more sleep. I could see the bags under your eyes from a mile away." 

"Scared of what? You maybe landing a decent hit?" He scoffed and rose to his feet. He didn't care to be nagged about his extra erratic sleeping patterns of late, and the prospect of a spar sounded more enticing than delving into their bloody pasts and regrets for much longer. 

She stepped toward him and rested her hands on her hips. "So, are you going to fight me or what?"

He smirked, feet leaving the sand. "If you're so eager to get beaten,, then let's go. We're burning moonlight."