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simpingcorner · 2 years ago

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Daughter of the Shadows Ch. 4

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: mild violence (mention of stabbing, mention of physical fighting), blood, mention of alcohol, mention of gambling,near death experience, mention of Kaz’s past, Kaz Brekker (I know it shouldn’t be a warning, but Kaz’s ability of dealing with his feelings is a warning to me),not proofread, let me know if I forgot something.

Author's Note: Fourth chapter to my Grishaverse fanfic. I really hope I’ve done Leigh’s Kaz justice, so tell me if it’s out of character or anything. Also tell me if you want to be added to the taglist. A reminder this is insipred by my SoC DR so it’ll follow both the books and the show plotlines, there will be changes to the canon characters and their storylines, it’s also a Kaz Brekker x OC. | English isn’t my first language so please bear with me and tell me if there’s something wrong. I hope you like it.

all rights to leigh bardugo, i only owny liith and her backstory (other ocs will be introduced later)

Read other parts here: ch. 1 - ch. 2 - ch. 3 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6

CHAPTER 4

KAZ

The legends and myths whispered around the Barrel about Kaz Brekker were enough to keep everyone he’d meet on their toes, or so that’s what they’d all think. So many stories had been spread about his past, his family and where he’d come from, yet, only a small number of people knew that everything that was whispered in the streets of the city was wrong.

Myths, that’s what it all was, just myths, legends, stories. Every violent act was cautious, studied, every plan came with enough back plans to cover all the letters of the alphabet, twice.

The stale, humid autumn air filled the office, the light from the street lamps reflected off the glass creating dancing figures on the dark walls, the window was ajar a sign that the boy was waiting for news to arrive, he had sent the girl to gather information on Jellen Radmakker before the moon greeted them, he knew that the council's 'business' dinners usually lasted well into the night, which meant that the information would arrive just before dawn, he had other things to worry about, he couldn't waste time worrying about her.

A knock on the door distracted him from the papers and documents he'd spent hours studying, "Boss." Specht's voice surprised him, "What have you found out?" he asked motioning him to close the door behind him, "They've targeted a new shipment coming in at the end of the month, six grisha. They don't know the location or the exact day they'll arrive but they have an exclusive to buy them before anyone else does." Kaz sat behind his desk, hands clasped on his cane, his gaze fixed on the window. "OK." He simply said not shifting his gaze from the window, the older man knew not to expect a thank you, a good job, Kaz had never thanked or complimented anyone and yet Specht knew he had done a good job, he knew he was important in Kaz Brekker's gang and he didn't care to spend the rest of his life without a thank you or a good job, as long as he received his money he would accept whatever Kaz told him to.

The closed door of his office muffled the noises of the Club below him, he could vaguely hear the screams and cackles of the pigeons too drunk to realise how much they were losing, the blue eyed man wiped his hands before closing his shirt and putting on his gloves, gloves that were now a second skin to him, created especially for him, they had grown with him, they stood by him in all his jobs, every moment of his life had been lived by him as much as by his gloves. He knew he shouldn't compare his gloves to the girl's, but part of him knew he didn't deserve them, not when the girl had learned to live without hers.

He closed the door behind him, hiding the key in the pocket of his trousers, his injured leg hurting more than usual, reminding him of the past, reminding him of things he would like to forget.

The place was full, the line of customers waiting to get in was longer than usual, he noticed Big Bolliger at the door busy arguing with some waiting customers, Joe was busy pouring yet another drink for one of the players, satin clad women and girls were sitting on the laps of men old enough to be their fathers or rich enough to afford lovers in every corner of the city, just the thought of wanting to touch multiple people for sheer pleasure made Kaz's stomach turn, reminding him of how much experience he was losing, he shook his head, trying to banish the thought and concentrate on his Club, on his work, on what was really important, his Dregs, his employees were focused on their work, some were intent on shuffling their cards, ready to cheat yet another hand, others were moving like eels between tables bringing drinks to customers, his gaze studied the whole place, a part of him knew something was wrong when he noticed Jesper's absence, the Zemeni should have been guarding the door but the place was too quiet.

"Jesper." He just said to Anika as he approached the bar, the boy's authoritative voice made the girl wince, the raven-haired girl's lips were twitching, her eyes used to travel to the boss's face were fixed on the bar behind him, "I don't know." she said before returning her focus to the drink in front of her, "Anika. " the girl's eyes tried not to look at the boss, to fixate on anything else, she had to tell him what was going on, but she didn't know if she was more scared of Kaz or Lilith and as much as she disliked the girl the fear she felt was stronger than the hatred and contempt; it was when she noticed Specht appearing in the doorway that her face betrayed her, Kaz's gaze shifted in the direction the girl was looking, Specht followed by a blonde girl dressed in red were running towards the stairs, it was not uncommon for one of the boys to bring a tourist or someone they met on the job into their room but Kaz knew that this girl was not there for Specht.

He tried to forget the pain in his leg as he followed the pair up the stairs, they passed the first floor confirming Kaz's theory, the blonde wasn't there for Specht, the blonde already knew where to go, skipping the last step of the third flight of stairs she headed to the left, ignoring all the doors, aiming for the last white door in the hallway.

"How is she?" She asked, opening the door and rushing in, "She keeps losing and regaining consciousness." Inej's voice sounded like a mirage, the neat, clean, white blankets of Lilith's bed were untidy beneath her body.

Kaz stood in the doorway, hands clenched on his cane, the metal began to cut through the leather of his gloves and the skin beneath them. In any other building in the world it would have been mistaken for an omen of death.

He forced himself to look at Lilith as Jesper helped the blonde tighten the bandages on Lilith's side.

Kaz shuddered as in his mind the image of Jordie appeared more vivid than ever, the feeling of his brother's cold, swollen skin against his own was drowning him. He was drowning in Jordie, in Lilith dying on the bed in front of him.

The blonde muttered to herself as she worked, one hand on Lilith's wrist and the other tight on the bandages on her side. Kaz watched her carefully and could see her counting Lilith's heartbeat as she tried to stop the bleeding.

That was why, when the blonde interrupted her mumbling and looked at Lilith, her eyes slowly widening, Kaz felt his own heart tremble and almost stop.

The blonde let go of Lilith's wrist, dropping her hand to the floor. She put her hands together, the first two fingers overlapping each other, before lowering them onto Lilith's chest. It was as if Kaz could feel Lilith's heart slowing instead of speeding up. He watched the blonde repeat the movements, determination, panic and fear visible on her face as her eyes began to glaze over.

Kaz swallowed and felt the ocean sweep over him again. He saw Lilith staring at him, dead and lifeless just like Jordie.

Her bright brown eyes were empty, dull.

Inej was praying, clutching Lilith's wolf-bone daggers. Jesper was motionless, for the first time since he had met Kaz, his red eyes were fixed on the body of his best friend. Kaz saw the hope diminish in the blonde's eyes.

The blonde sobbed, repeating the movements again, she brought her hands to the brunette's chest, much more forcefully than she should have. She held them there, begging and pleading with the brunette's organs not to give up. To fight.

Second by second she felt the brunette's pulse start up again. The heartbreaker kept her hands still on Lilith's chest, terrified that if she took them away her pulse might stop again. Second by second the colour began to return to Lilith's face, allowing the blonde to sigh relieved and lower her tired head.

Inej released a sob, thanking and praying to her saints.

"Bandage her wound." Said the blonde to Jesper, noticing the boy's sly smile return to his face, the Zemeni took a bandage from one of the drawers behind them and knelt at Lilith's side pulling up her bloody shirt and gently resting the bandage on the wound, Kaz's eyes watched the scene, he hated everything that was happening in front of him, not just the wound, not just what that wound would stop Lilith from doing, he felt helpless, he knew he had to help her, he hated seeing Jesper do something he had promised her he would do.

"Lils, you shouldn't sleep on the job." Jesper's voice was broken, a mixture of happiness and concern. "Look who's talking." Kaz's eyes snapped to the girl, he had forced everyone back to work except for Inej and Jesper who had stood their ground and would not leave the room until Lilith woke up, and Milana, the heartbreaker who had sat at the foot of the bed and not moved for hours waiting for Lilith to wake up.

"Saints, Lils don't ever do that again." Said Inej hugging the younger one's neck, "I didn't want to be stabbed." replied the brunette returning the hug, "I did my best, please don't do anything too dangerous, even if it doesn't hurt. I know it will be difficult but please I don't want to see you in that condition again." "I'll try, I'm not promising anything." The two exchanged a knowing look, which did not go unnoticed by the other three Crows, before Milana got up and left the room, leaving the four Crows behind the closed door. "Do you know each other?" Jesper asked breaking the silence, "When you do our job you have to have connections." Answered Lilith leaning her back against the wall, the sun was rising illuminating the room, "I'm fine." assured the girl after a few minutes of silence, "If I find out you did this just to not feed my crows I swear on the Saints I will never forgive you." Inej said before following Jesper out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"I feel your disappointment on me." Said Lilith turning to look at Kaz, the boy was leaning against the dresser, his cane in front of him, his gloves resting on the wood to his right, "You didn't report after dinner." "Sorry next time I tell those perverts to let me report before attacking me." The sarcasm in the girl's voice would have carried serious consequences if it had come out of anyone else's mouth. "Is that all you're here for? To tell me I should have waited until I died to report?"

No. I’m here for the promise I made you long ago.

"No, I needed to know when you would be able to return to work." Kaz's face was serious, impassive, Lilith's was pale, a veil of disappointment so thin as to go unnoticed by the inexperienced eye, but Kaz was not inexperienced.

Tag list: @awkwardbean4337 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

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cobalt-knave · 3 years ago

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Mechanisms Fanfic Recs Part 2!

I was delighted to see people actually using my last rec list, and I have read a Lot of mechs fic since then, so let’s go.

No particular theme, but we’ve got several Gunpowder Tim & Drumbot Brian fics here among others!

Five Times the Mechanisms took care of Gunpowder Tim, and One Time he protected them by TheHoardingPuffin

One part character study to two parts found family. Featuring: moon war feels, hurt/comfort, and very protective mechanisms.

Indistinguishable From Magic by Garecc, Gunpowderdtim (Garecc)

An incredibly interesting and well-written fic focusing on Brian of Brian’s past, eldrich powers, prophecy, and an old friendship between a now-metal man and a certain doctor.

One left behind by NammiKisulora

Have you ever wondered what the diary of Marius Von Raum looks like? Have you ever imagined him writing in it while lying in bed, kicking his legs in the air?

Have you ever wanted Brian’s-in-the-sun angst?

Well, boy of boy have you come to the right place! All that and more in this fic!

On Account Of The Jonny Doll by NammiKisulora

If you’re a whump fan who likes the Mechanisms, you’ve probably wondered how exactly do you hurt an immortal being who seems to like pain a little more than is traditional? The answer of course lies in being rather... creative.

In this horrifying tale, we learn what happens when Jonny d’Ville is executed by skinning.

It also features an excellently-characterized Marius as the pov character!

The Edges of What We Might Be by HicSuntDracones

In another world, another life, perhaps the Lucky Sevens’ rising star hired a tailor. Perhaps that rising star was one Ashes O’Reilly and that ttailor named Jonny.

A Pocket Full of Posies by Claribelle

IT’S A CROSSOVER WITH WOODEN OVERCOATS AND ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DELIGHTFUL GO READ IT

It is well with my soul by yallbitter

Hasn’t Brian earned a little revenge?

Vital Maintenance by Triss_Hawkeye

Gunpowder Tim is cleaning his guns when Brian needs the titular “vital maintenance”. But that doesn’t cover the SHEER amount of EMOTIONS that this fic will make you feel. It’s beautiful and well-thought-out, and GO READ IT.

o, pallas athena! by pidgewings (violentlypan)

Emotions! Come get your emotions here!

Gunpowder was never Tim's first name. It was never even his nickname. Gunpowder was Bertie's nickname.

I Have Broken More and More by fromthedesert

Brian needs repairs. Tim is there to help him.

it has only just begun by LadyDragonKiller

Raphaella backstory! Once, she was known as Icarus.

The Walls Begin To Tear by Stargazer_lilies

An absolutely excellent opening fic in a series that saves -- if you can call being marked by an eldrich god “saving” -- Lyfrassir Edda. They encounter eventually, a floating piece of space junk... Nastya Rasputina is back.

Nastya and Lyfrassir are wonderful together, a great [platonic] relationship. I love them so much.

This series goes on to cross over with The Magnus Archives, if that is your thing as well.

The Mechanized Archives ch. 5 “The Shadow Of the Moon” by CloudDreamer

It is so easy to forget just how horrifying the Mechanisms and their actions truly are. This chapter is an external POV of someone who’s life ended when the moon was gone and had to live with that consequence.

This chapter influenced how I think and talk and analyze the Mechanisms. It’s very good and very dark.

The Magnus Archives statement format.

#fic rec #the mechanisms #the mechs #mechs fic #wooden overcoats #the magnus archives #tma #note to self: this covers pages 1-3 out of 7 of my mechs bookmarks

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besotted-eros · 4 years ago

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Ch. 3 (previous here)

Eren x Reader (WoC)

18+

Summary: The ocean sends you a man stuck to a piece of driftwood, and he knows you in a way you don’t know yourself.

Content: oh god that’s a lot of smut, jealous and possessive Eren, deep throating, dirty talk, oral (both receiving), soft morning sex and then angry sex after, dom!Eren, lots of soft fluff, Eren’s walls coming down, picking flowers and swimming in water, mentions of racism, anxiety/paranoia scene, mentions of pregnancy

Song + Poem for this chapter: x x

You awoke to breath.

It was soft on the back of your neck, sending the hair shifting with its warm graze. There was a weight over your stomach, an arm slung as casually as your jacket on the back of a chair. As if he had always rested there. As if the curve of your waist had been molded to suit his sleeping form.

Eren was silent. It seemed that nothing haunted him right now, that he slept truly and wholly. You matched your breath to his, letting yourself fall into his rhythm. Carefully, inch by inch, you turned onto your back. Then your side. You were facing him now, faces inches apart. You were surprised he hadn't woken but glad. You took the chance to drink the sight of him as the early morning sun stroked through his hair.

It was unfair. That someone could be so beautiful and so haunted. You wanted to hide in the shadow of his long lashes, to press flowers against the hollows of his cheeks. You traced the air along his jaw, following the sharp angle, making a path over the delicate bow of his upper lip. Those lips. You had kissed those lips. They had kissed you. Your fingers ran over the knifepoint of his chin, down the tendons of his neck. You hesitated over his chest. The warmth radiated off of him like the sun.

Did that make you the moon? Lucky to reflect even a part of him?

But before you could dwell his eyes were open. There was no early morning bleariness, no moment to collect the pieces of himself that had wandered off dreaming. He was simply awake, and looking back at you.

He studied your face, jade gaze dancing across your features. He seemed as though he was committing you to memory.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed, his voice husky with sleep. You felt your heart stumble over a beat. He blinked, mouth twitching slightly. He seemed to have surprised himself.

"I was thinking the same about you." you admitted, allowing yourself to lean in further. The tip of your nose brushed against his. It was the most intimate thing you had done, even more so than having him inside you. This was the touch of lovers.

There was something soft in his eyes as they gazed into yours, swimming in the morning's golden rays. It weighed unfamiliarly on him. You could tell tenderness wasn't something he had given often. But he was full of it, when his stoic mask would slip like now. You curled your arms around him, holding onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself into the crook of his neck. He stiffened for a moment before running both hands over your back and gripping you to him.

"Is this more comfortable than the floor?" You asked against his skin, and he pressed a closed mouth to the top of your head.

"Nah." You pulled back to stare at him, and there was a light twinkle in his eye, despite his serious expression.

"In that case, feel free to spend tonight back there." You muttered, planting a dulcet kiss on his jaw.

"You wouldn't be able to get me out of this bed if you tried." He responded, and you tried not to shiver noticeably. "It's nice not having a sore back."

"Now I'm the sore one." You yawned, stretching out the tightness in your legs. Your body felt new now that he gazed upon it. His fingers began tracing the evidence of your connection last night. The flowering bruises on your thighs, the ponds of hickies across your throat and chest.

"Did I hurt you?" He murmured, palm moving to cup your cheek. There was real worry in his eyes. "Was I too rough, too much?"

You shook your head adamantly as you pressed into his touch. "Nothing I didn't ask for." His thumb stroked across your cheek, and you could tell he didn't believe you fully.

"You'll tell me if I get to be." It was a demand, albeit a soft one. You nodded and he kissed your forehead once more. "Good girl. I just..." He moved to press his forehead against yours, eyes closed. There was a moment of mourning in his face, but it was gone soon. But his voice sounded small. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You could never." You tried to assure him but his mouth twisted grimly. "Eren, I mean it." He started at the sound of his name, eyes springing open to stare as he pushed against you.

"It's so strange to hear you actually say it." He murmured before kissing you. So you said it again. Softer, whispered against the chapped skin of his lips. Once more, into his open mouth, letting him feel how you called him. Your bodies shifted together, moving closer, closer still. He rolled, pulling you to straddle him with a muted grunt. Your hair fell about him, shrouding him from the world. "Feels like it's been a lifetime since I've heard it." He whispered.

You regarded him curiously, running the pads of your fingers over the shape of his forehead. "Who are you hiding from?"

He caught your hand, threading his fingers into the empty space between yours. "Does it matter now that I'm found?" You smirked at his coy words, pressing a wordless kiss to his jaw.

"It seems the closer I get to you the less I know." You murmured, your lips dragging down his skin. His head tilted back, and he offered you his throat. It was sweet, seeing such a guarded man so vulnerable. You kissed his reward into him, finding where his heart beat was most obvious and darkening the skin. You knew less about everything but his body it seemed. But you were so eager to learn.

You could already feel him under you, stiffening as your lips trailed his collarbone. How many times have you dreamt of this path? The one along his shoulders, down the dip and to his chest. And now you could explore it freely.

His hand did much the same, at first gripping your hips. But soon they moved, wandering across each curve and valley, across every fold and raise of skin. They stroked upwards, coming to rest underneath your breasts. He lifted them, and you hummed with pleasure when a calloused thumb graced across your nipple. You steadied yourself, holding onto his shoulders as your eyes opened and once again drowned in him. His thumb continued to circle, to press gently into you as his free hand moved down to cup your ass. His touch was gentle, but firm. You fell into it, letting him guide you up and down his length, your folds dragging across his shaft and wetting him with your desire.

His lips were slightly parted, eyes wide to take every last bit of you in. When you smiled at him, as delicate as the dust motes that danced in the rays, he throbbed. That was enough for you.

Raising yourself on your knees, and reaching down carefully you grasped him. He was thick, thick enough that it made you wonder how you had taken him before. But as you pressed his head against your entrance, you knew you would do it time and time again.

He held your hips as you lowered yourself onto him, a low whine rising from your throat. He stretched you, even as still as he was. You trembled slightly at the feeling, but Eren kept you steady. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb stroking across your lips.

"So good at taking me, pretty thing." He murmured, pulling at your bottom lip slightly. You kissed his thumb as you bottomed out onto him. Every inch was now sheathed inside the tight sleeve of your pussy. You were full, spilling over with the sensation of him. You breathed slowly, and he seemed to capture it, fingers still soft on your face.

And then you moved. Slowly, your movements novice and unrefined. But your want from him guided you, braced your knees against the bed and your hands on his chest. Your hips gyrated, bumping your clit into him and making your plush walls clench. He seemed to purr with content, eyes closing as you slid yourself up, to the very tip of his shaft, and then back down with sensual pace.

There was no rush here. No hurry. No world existed beyond the one you made together with your bodies. You wanted it to last forever, to be caught in the tender bliss of his face until the universe imploded.

He dragged languidly against your velvet, making your toes curl as you angled yourself. A soft moan escaped your lips and he bucked his hips in response, making your nails dig gently into his chest.

"'s so good, look at you. Like a fucking goddess." He groaned as you straightened, rolling your hips so he would slide at a more urgent pace. You flushed at the compliment, hands holding your breasts as you worked yourself undone over him. A large finger came to rest over your clit, making your hips start with pleasure. He traced small circles around it, watching your face as it contorted, euphoria making your lips push forward and eyes roll back. "Beautiful. Cum for me."

You fell forward as you did, burying your face beside his as waves of pleasure made your hips move erratically, your walls pulsating on him and drawing him to his own orgasm. He moaned openly in your ear, making you gasp and grab at him, urging him forth with kisses and whimpers.

He held you through the subsiding waves, muscular arms tight around your torso as you shifted your legs back, allowing yourself to lay upon him fully.

"Wow." He murmured, shifting your hair with his nose so he could plant a kiss on your ear. You giggled moving to press your face into his neck.

"Yeah, wow." You repeated. Your body was even more sore, but the pleasure you shared was something you could never pass up a chance to enjoy. The evidence of it dripped between your legs, sticky upon your skin. You let it remain for a few moments as you soaked his heat up, finding spots on his chest you hadn't touched yet. But then it became uncomfortable, and you pulled away murmuring about a bath.

To your surprise he followed you, padding silently into the bathroom and watching as you filled the bathtub. You could see his intention plainly on his mouth, the way he bit his lower lip as he gazed from the warm water and back to you. You sat naked on the rim of the claw footed porcelain giant, legs crossed as the water poured behind you.

"Something about you and water feels right." Eren said, leaning against the door frame. His eyes were heavy lidded, and you could feel his gaze like a physical thing. "Sometimes you make the thing that almost killed me seem beautiful."

You laughed at that, giving him a coy smile as you eased back into the now filled tub, submerging yourself to your chest as you turned off the tap. "Maybe I should teach you how to swim."

He slid in behind you, sending the water bouncing ripples over your body. His legs slid down beside yours as he pulled you back into him. Your back rested comfortably against his chest, arms encircling your waist. The water was the perfect temperature, cooling his burning skin and warming your normally Boreal core. The water enveloped you almost as well as he did, flexing his arms slightly as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. One hand moved to stroke along your arm, crossing your shoulder to brush hair off of it.

You felt his muscular legs under the water, hands pushing against the strong flesh of his thighs. He was lean, built light and lithe like a runner.

"I wouldn't be good at it."

"Hmm?" You pulled yourself back to reality, having been lost in the way the water lifted the pale brown down on his thighs. "Good at what?"

"Swimming." His voice was muffled, seemingly unwilling to part his mouth from your skin. You reached up to stroke the side of his head, running your fingers through his chestnut hair.

"Your doctor father never try to teach you?" You asked.

"Not in the sea. We lived too far inland." His voice was pallid, with nostalgia? He never spoke of home so freely. "I never even knew of the sea till I was 7? 8? Who knows." That made you pause. You knew internment was inland, but to go that long without even hearing of the sea? You wanted to press further, to inquire what had failed him. His parents or his education. But something held you back from unravelling his tightly wound tale.

"I lived inland too. For a while. After mother died, father found a practice in a city a few hours north of the Capital." You didn't know what made the words spill from you. You were well within your right to keep secrets as he did.

But you wanted to share with him. You wanted to show him these pieces that made your mosaic.

"It was hard there, not many people appreciated us. So we came here." A flash of an angry glare, the sound of your front window breaking, a stethoscope being broken in half. The water rippled as you shifted, the discomfort of memory moving your body. But he held you firm, fingering a lock of your hair before stroking a thumb across your skin.

"Because of this?" He asked, smoothing a flat hand across your chest. He motioned towards the brown of your skin before kissing your shoulder.

"Yeah. They're not too kind to foreigners in most places. Didn't matter how Marleyan I really am." It felt whiney to complain, seeing as he was an Eldian. His armband was burning a hole through the shelf it rested on. But Eren simply kissed your shoulder once more. "I'm sure you're familiar with that."

"Yeah, a little bit." His tone was unreadable. But you pressed forward.

"It's wrong. It's unforgivable, how they treat you." His grip tightened on you and you held onto his arms, squeezing slightly. "No one should pay for the sins of their forefathers. Your people deserve freedom." You thought you heard a gasp but it may have been the water. He had leaned forward and now was clutching you.

"What would you do, if your people were chained?" He whispered hoarsely in your ear. There was an urgency in his voice. His legs pressed into yours, every muscle now taunt.

You took a moment to compose yourself, thrown off by his intensity. What would you do, if it was your people subjugated like his? Your father had warned you to stay quiet, head down, hands gracious as they were stepped upon. One of his parting warnings was to be malleable, to turn the other cheek. But the thought of that, of letting the people who sought to demean you get away easy... It made your heart cold and your hands fire.

"I would fight. In whatever way I could." You regretted the words when they left your mouth. They felt idealist, and cruel. He was fighting for Marley, a conscripted soldier already on the last remnants of good will. But it was the truth. You had been complacent when you were younger, cowed by their vitriol and your father's hand. But you knew now that remaining on this island was for their sake as much as yours. Here they knew better than to comment.

But you felt him smile against your skin.

"It feels good to hear you say. It's what I'm doing y/n, it's the o-" the urgency in his voice was cut short by a polite rap upon your front door. You both froze, the water going unnaturally still.

No one ever came to call upon you.

Your heart raced as you pulled yourself from the bathtub, quickly grabbing a towel from its hook and furiously drying yourself off. Eren followed suit,fist clenching around the fabric. You didn't need to touch him to know his heart was racing.

"Stay in here, completely still." You hissed before slamming the door shut. His eyes were steely, jaw set and neck taunt.

You pulled a chemise on as another knock set your heart rattling. "Coming!" You called to the door.

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck." You swore to yourself as you yanked on a skirt and threw a shawl over yourself, attempting to cover the thin fabric of the chemise with no time to put on a blouse.

You threw open the door, red faced and hair in disarray. Your eyes jumped from the young man standing in front of you to over his shoulder, searching your front porch for a crowd with pitchforks and torches.

But it was no one but Odo, the son of the village's metalsmith. "I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" He asked, brown eyes wide with concern at your disheveled appearance.

"Oh, no I'm sorry. Just caught me in the bath." You said breathlessly, trying to unknit the knot of worry that had twisted your stomach. It was surreal to see someone darkening your doorstep. The decade you had lived here nothing had passed but you, Pekoe, and your father once upon a time. But Odo grinned cheerily, brown eyes crinkling as he tipped his ash coloured cap.

"I'm sorry to have caught you off guard. But I think we missed your last trip, and my aunt has been fiending for your tea." You blinked slowly before it hit you, making your mouth open and close dumbly. You had missed your last weekly trip. You never had before.

"I'm so sorry! You'll have to give Jessamine my apologies. I've been... Under the weather." You stumbled over your words, shy under the searchlight of his gaze. "I haven't had the chance to harvest yet, but I should have enough for another few drinks. And I can come by within the next few days." You chewed your bottom lip as you turned to look at your herb shelf. When you turned back he had stepped closer, large hand resting on the doorframe.

"May I come in and wait?" He asked, and you stepped back hesitantly, cringing away from his body and gesturing him in.

"Yes, of course. It'll only be a minute, please take a seat." You haphazardly pulled back a chair for him before whirling to your counter, grabbing for your herbs and an empty jar. You kept your eyes on everything but the door to the bathroom, which had cracked open ever so slightly.

"It took a lot to find you, the forest is so dense and dark here." Odo commented from his seat at the table. He had reclined back and his eyes traversed your home. You hoped they would gloss over the men's tunic thrown over the end of your bed. "It almost makes the rumours about you believable."

You cast him a quick smile over your shoulder, mind racing to the next ingredient and measurement. "Rumours?"

"They call you the witch y'know, all very mysterious and the like. Witch of the woods." He leaned forward, elbows planted on the wood as he grinned wolfishly. "But I think that's just the go to gossip for any pretty, reclusive woman. Mathis was worried I would be bewitched if I stepped into your house." You scoffed at that, imagining the young butcher's son wide eyed, warning his cousin of the danger that resided in your humble cabin.

"I'll have to cast a spell on him next I need sliced bacon in that case, maybe then he'll be able to cut it evenly." You muttered, eliciting a deep belly laugh from the man. It bounced off the walls, filling the room with sound that it had never heard before. It made you freeze for a second before doubling your speed.

"You're funny, oh witch of the forest." He guffawed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. You smiled courteously as you grabbed a small bowl.

"I uh, need some raspberry leaves from the garden." The bathroom door seemed to glow. You couldn't risk leaving Odo inside. "Will you accompany me? They're right by the edge, where the trail is." You took the jar, placing it in your basket as you fixed a friendly smile. Odo jumped up eagerly, rushing to open the door for you.

"Of course, of course!" He chirped, watching you walk through the door before stepping behind you. You could breathe easier once the door shut firmly behind him. But it caught in your throat once more when a strong arm looped through yours, sweeping you across the porch and down the steps. You glanced over your shoulder through the window, watching as the bathroom door slowly swung open.

"Have to say I'm happy to get out of that house. I kinda got the shivers in there, feel like I'm being watched." He beamed at you and you managed a soft laugh, avoiding his eyes.

"Well, uh... Is Mathis excited to become a big brother?" You inquired politely as you strolled up to the raspberry bushes. You began to sift through the emerald leaves, picking the most intact. You tried not to think of how they matched the eyes of the man who must have been watching you now, hidden in the shadows of the lace curtains.

"Extremely. And should be any day now. It's hard with the men gone, though." He ran a hand back through his strawberry blonde hair, cap twisted in the other. "I should have gone with."

You nodded solemnly as you uncapped the jar and added the leaves. "Big losses from the last battle, including that ship that sunk."

He scoffed as you offered him the jar, giving a nonchalant drop of his shoulder. "Was just Eldians on that though." The jar slipped from your fingers and he lunged to catch it, fingers curling around it moments from the ground. Oda gave an exuberant laugh, shaking it slightly. "Aunt Jess woulda killed me if I let that go." He straightened up, catching only the transition of your face into something apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, my hand slipped. I haven't been feeling the best." He did not know you well enough to catch hold of your tone, the airiness of it betraying an inferno underneath. You held your hand to your chest, nail digging into your palm discreetly.

"Oh, are you okay?" He asked, stepping closer. You moved back, foot crushing the jewel red berries behind you. Odo noticed and raised his hands. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry, my father always said I had the personal boundaries of a golden retriever." He smiled apologetically. "And you, you especially must not be used to being close to people. Don't you ever get lonely out here?"

You hugged yourself, pulling the shawl tighter around your skin. "No, I have a cat."

Another booming laugh as he redonned his cap. "Well, if you ever get bored of the cat, I would love to have you over for dinner." Your eyes widened at the invitation and his smile broadened much the same. "I'll take my leave, have a good afternoon Miss Witch." He glanced back at the cabin, pausing for a moment. You looked back as well, heart stopping when your eyes met emerald green. But it was only Pekoe, sitting carefully upon the windowsill and regarding you with judgement. "Looks like your companion misses you."

You watched him set down the path, following his figure until it was hidden, the sounds of his steps fading away to be replaced by the rustle of the leaves. You shifted your foot uncomfortably. You had stepped outside shoeless, no doubt affirming your witchy image. But now the bottom of your foot was covered in the fleshy pulp of raspberries, and reminded you of blood.

You gasped when you opened the door, Eren's frame imposing directly on the other side, the wood almost glancing off his elegant nose. He had a towel wrapped haphazardly around his waist, and you tried not to dwell at the sharp v of his hips, or how his wet hair clung to the side of his neck in a way you were jealous of.

"Who was he?" He demanded, voice dripping with ice.

"Odo, metalsmith's son. His aunt is the pregnant one, needed tea for her inflammation and back pain." You explained, unwrapping your shawl and placing it on the back of your chair. He stared openly at the thin top of the chemise, how your nipples still pressed through the fabric.

"Does he come often?"

"No, this is the first time anyone has visited me out here. Seems like since you stepped through my door everyone's been seeking me out." You smiled playfully, reaching up to cup his cheek. His eyes were dull, and he didn't lean into your touch.

"Do you greet every young man at your door like this then?" He asked, reaching forward to tug at one of the delicate straps. You brushed off his hand, rolling your eyes as you turned around.

"I guess so, I'm one for one now." You commented blithely, lighting the flame as you readied water for tea. You kept your face composed but your heart beat erratically.

"Y/n, turn back around." Came the low command. You shivered at the sound of his voice. He *was* jealous.

"Why?" You asked, measuring out the tea leaves and watching as they swirled in the water.

"So I can see your expression when I ask you why let another man flirt while my cum is still inside you."

You whirled around, barking a short laugh at the absurdity of his words. But his face had a deathly seriousness, and flickered with annoyance. He reached behind you to turn off the heat on the stove, making you swallow despite yourself.

"Are you jealous?" You asked incredulously, trying to keep the smile off of your face. Eren simply stepped closed, crowding you as his eyes flared into yours. "And either way, what do you think that bath was for?" Your jibe hit him wrong, and his mouth tightened.

"Am I not supposed to be jealous when I see my woman getting cozy with a stranger?" He asked, voice dangerously low as a single finger traced your neck. "Hanging off his arm, making him laugh loud enough to scare the birds off?"

"When did I become your woman?" You asked. You wanted it to come out insolent, but you were nothing but meek when his thumb met your lips, pushing past them to rest on your tongue. His long fingers curled around your chin, lifting it in a way that was almost patronizing. The malachite of his gaze bit you, and you struggled not to shirk.

"You always have been." He answered, and you felt his words make their home in your heart. It was true. You knew it. There was a reason the waves had carried him to you, and you alone.Your lips closed around his thumb prettily as you stared back at him, suckling on his first joint. He watched you closely, his face still stone.

"So you agree, that you're my woman?" Eren murmured, pulling you against him by your chin. You grabbed onto his wrist, eyes fluttering closed as you nodded.

"Show me then." He whispered into your ear, pressing down lightly upon your shoulder. You knelt in front of him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to this thumb as he pulled it away. There was a soft noise as his towel fell to the ground, pooling at his feet.

Eren was hard, visibly throbbing. The pretty veins on his cock were angry, his mushroom head leaking pre cum against his thigh. With a tentative finger you reached out, wiping it away. It was warm on your skin, and salty on your tongue when you licked it clean. He watched you intently, hand making slow movements through your hair, gathering it up at the nape of your neck.

You held his cock at its base, and could have sworn you felt his heart beat through it. "Is this how I'm supposed to show you?" You asked, voice muted, pressing the tip to your lips. You puckered slightly, planting butterfly kisses along the slit and making his hand clench against you.

"You can be such a brat, you know that?" He murmured, leaning back against the countertop as your lips parted, allowing him to slide into the warm wetness of your mouth. Your tongue traced along his shaft, hands moving to grip his thighs for support.

He fit as perfectly in your mouth as he did in your pussy.

You flattened your tongue against him as you dragged it up the underside of his cock, brows furrowed in concentration as he twitched and pulsed against you. You wanted more, more reaction. So you pressed him further and further into your throat, breathing heavily through your nose as he bottomed out. It left you both shivering, and Eren groaned, low and deep in his chest.

"'s feeling good..." He muttered through tight lips, jaw clenched and eyes glazed. He pulled at your hair slightly, guiding you back to the tip and then pushing you back to the bottom. He slid down your throat with ease as you stared up at his face, enraptured by his expressions. You had spent weeks with that stoic, unreadable face. And now it was contorted with pleasure, eyes betraying a softness so deep it felt like you could taste it.

You made him feel like that. You, with your supple lips and wandering tongue. You could make his fingers dig into your scalp, his hips thrust subconsciously, desperate for more of *you*. And all you wanted was to please him.

Your nails made half moons in his pale skin as you picked up your pace, your chin becoming slick with a mixture of his desire and your saliva.

"I need, I need more, wanna take you deeper." He grunted, his hands moving to hold the back of your head, eyes searching for permission. When you gave a soft whine of approval, he was ready, beginning to slowly bounce your mouth on his shaft as he thrust to meet it. He went deeper down your throat, his head bouncing against the back. And his speed increased, and increased. Your eyes welled with tears from the force of it, but you blinked them away quickly. You needed to keep locked onto his face, to see him. To see the pleasure he took from you. His hair swung as his head hung to look at you, leaned over now to thrust easier.

He was fucking your throat. All you could do was lick at him when you could, your tongue dancing uselessly as he rammed over and over again, the sloppy wet sounds of your mouth and his grunts filling the room. His heavy balls smacked against your chin, in a way that was almost humiliating. But you adored it, you loved it. You wanted to feel every part of him against you, to know that you were bringing every inch of him pleasure. You reached to cup them, massaging them carefully in your hand and his moans grew.

"Feel those? I'm gonna cum down your throat. Gonna cum down your throat, teach you a fucking lesson." He hissed, speeding up. You moaned against his length as he drilled into you, his pace becoming sloppier and more desperate.

"Look at me. Look at me." He groaned, using one hand to push back your hair and gently wipe the tears from your eyes with his thumb. "Don't ever let another man touch you while I still breathe, do you understand?" He punctuated his sentence with thrusts. "You're. Fucking. Mine. Finally found you, finally have, no one else can touch you while I'm here." The words were streaming from his mouth as his hips stuttered, a final moan heralding the heavy shots of cum being unloaded down your throat as he buried himself down one final time.

You drank him like ambrosia, gasping hoarsely when he slid out with a loud plop. You were both quiet for a moment, shivers running through your bodies. Then finally he knelt beside you in the small space between the cabinets.

He grabbed the discarded towel and gently wiped your face clean, hands soft upon you as he pulled you up and poured a glass of water. You leaned into him as you drank by his hand, as he guided you to the chair. In the end he was one who prepared tea, adding copious amounts of honey to soothe the bruises he was worried he inflicted in your throat. And your voice was hoarse till the next morning, when you woke with new marks of love he had set before bed.

He had been gentle because of your sore throat, but still. You tempted him. And you would never turn down the heaven he offered you.

"Need to go forage." You mumbled as you rolled out from the cage of his arms. He was up within a second, on your heels as you washed together and dressed, eyeing each other's bodies in the new sun like you had never seen them before.

You had a routine now, you realised. It was second nature, you expected to open your eyes over the basin and see him in the mirror. And to cut an extra slice of bread for him. He had pulled you to rise earlier, not wanting to waste a moment of his breath. And you had taught him the peace in domesticity, what a life without war would have been for him.

What a beautiful play it was. You could almost fool yourself into thinking this could have been your forever.

"What are we looking for?" Eren asked, adjusting the leather string of the tunic neck. You tore your eyes away from his skin and swept your arm in a wide arc.

"Everything. But mostly chamomile, echinacea, and nettle for the tincture. Also need to find that camphor tree. And it's Morrell season, so we should keep an eye out for those. Just for dinner." You listed, chewing on your lower lip as you thought them over. "Chamomile looks like-"

"I know. Tiny little white flowers with yellow centres. And echinaceas are pink and spiky." Eren interjected, shrugging at your raised eyebrow. "I told you, my father was a doctor. Acted like an apothecary too when needed."

You gave him a small smile, veering off of the path and into the dappled shade of the brush. He always sounded so sad talking about his father. "It's a lot of expectation, to grow up with a doctor for a father."

Eren's face composed itself into something guarded and stoic. The gate of his expression was closed. He knelt down suddenly, and you noticed the nettle patch he had found. "Yeah. Expectations. He plucked a green leafed stem and tossed it into your awaiting basket. You watched as his fingers adeptly flicked through the plants, pulling only the most intact and mature. His expression morphed into something more serene, lips parting slightly and brow unknitting himself. The sun's rays would peek through the foliage sporadically, illuminating the tones of gold in his umber hair.

He was made of everything precious wasn't he? Gold hidden in his hair, emerald brazen in his eye, the soft sapphire of bruises that shadowed his clavicle.

He looked up at you, a hand placed on a tree trunk and eyes glued to him. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just pretty."

"Pretty?" He repeated, and you marvelled at the rose quartz of his blush, however light. It seemed like even when the gate was closed, you could get through to him in small ways. You laughed as you whirled on your heel, beginning your own hunt.

By the time the sun was at its precipice in your sky, the basket had been stuffed full. Eren had made an excellent partner, his eyes refined and catching even the smallest grouping of flowers or leaves.

He had even scaled a tree, and much to your chagrin harvested sickly sweet honeycomb from a well perched hive. You scolded him when he had returned, but he had simply kissed you quiet, mouth sticky with the saccharine substance.

You sat on the riverbank now, feet dipped in the water as his head rested in your lap. You had pulled the ribbon from his hair, and it cascaded over your legs. You stroked it carefully, untangling the knots and watching how the water reflected a new shine onto it. His lips were tinged blue, from the blackberry bush you had stumbled across and subsequently raided for lunch. You traced the stains, trying not to be reminded of how blue his face was when you first saw him.

Lifetimes ago. That man you had pulled from the surf, cold and stiff. To think he laid so warmly in your lap now.

"I'm going to teach you how to swim." You announced, making him open an eye.

"Did you save me from drowning only to do it yourself?" He asked wearily, and you laughed as you stroked his cheek.

"What about when I'm not there to save you? Pray you never have another boat blown up, but who knows. Someday you may even want to swim for pleasure." His hand shot forth to grab yours now, pressing it to his face as he turned and kissed your palm. His brows furrowed, and you could see the pain in his expression for a moment.

You never spoke of the life that was fast approaching. Him, off to some needless war. You, sitting on the same lonely beach, watching as the tide ceaselessly rushed in. It made you feel hollow.

Eren's eyes opened, and saw the grief in yours. He kissed your hand once more before sitting up, tugging his shirt off in a smooth motion.

"Fine, come now."

You stripped eagerly into your undergarments, giving him a playful smirk when his eyes openly feasted. Then you were both in the water, the river calm and not coming further than your navel. He was flinching at the cold, muscles tight and jaw clenched.

"Alright, go under. Bob your head." You instructed, and he obliged begrudgingly. You smiled as he came up, hair soaked and mouth twisted. "There. Now you won't feel so cold."

"Are you sure about that?" He asked as you pulled yourself under, propelling yourself under the water till you were behind him. He stared at you angrily as you came up, green eyes wide. The sensual silk clung to you tantalizingly, allowing him to see the suggestion of your teak coloured nipples.

"You know, I think that idiot was wrong." He had grasped your waist and pulled you against him, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Wh- Odo?" You sputtered, blinking water from your eyes.

"You are a witch. Not just of the woods though. Of the water." He whispered, pressing a hot kiss to your lips. "Look at you. You wear it like a glamour." Another warm kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs.

"Funny." You murmured, twisting his hair into rings around your fingers. "I feel like you're the one who bewitched me." Your teeth captured his lower lip, tugging at it for a breath. "I feel like I've loved you for a lifetime" Love. It was the first time you had said it out loud, and you pulled back slightly, searching his face for a response to the word.

"I've loved you for many." He responded, saying it as simply as he would a greeting. Then he pulled you back, bringing your bodies crashing into the water.

You flailed for a moment before catching your footing, pulling yourself from the silence of the water with a gasp.

A laugh greeted your ears, making you start. For a moment you almost looked to the forest, worried that someone had stumbled upon you. But it rang from the man in front of you, and your heart softened when you realised.

Eren was laughing.

It was the sweetest sound you had ever heard, deep peels of laughter that danced with the ripples of the water. His eyes crinkled handsomely, mouth turned into a wide grin. "Sorry, I just... Had to. Got cold. And you look so cute when you're surprised."

You collected your jaw from the riverbed, your own mouth twisting into a rueful smile. "Maybe I should have drowned you." You shot, leaning back and kicking your feet towards him, sending a violent splash over his chest. He lunged towards you, grabbing your calves and yanking you through the water towards him.

You yelped with surprise as you splashed and grappled with him, giggles escaping your throat as you wrestled. He was gentle, but firm as he pushed and pulled you, wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you from behind as you playfully beat against his grasp.

He carried you onto the rocks, depositing you carefully before laying beside you. You laid there for almost an hour, letting the sun dry you as you exchanged soft kisses. They deepened, tongues exploring the remnants of the taste of blackberry. His hands wandered, as perceptive as his eyes. He knew where to touch you, where to run his fingers to make you come alive.

Eren took you there, pulling aside the soaked fabric of your panties and tugging down your bra until your breasts were exposed to the sun’s face. His mouth would alternate, a loose triangle between your lips and nipples. His breath was like the wind whistling through the leaves, his hips like the river crashing by you. Ceaseless, primal, as natural as it was wild.

You washed each other afterwards, bodies warm now with more than just the sun. The cold of the water could no longer touch you. Then he dressed you, and you tied his hair, and you found your way back home hand in hand.

"How long will you be gone?" He asked from the bed. His hand swayed, bouncing a string tied pinecone along the floor. Pekoe's marmalade paws shot out at random intervals, attempting to beat the life from the offensive seed.

You packed the last of your things, tucking away a salve for burns that wouldn't fit in the basket into your pocket. You cast a glance out of the window. It was already noon. You had waited for the herbs in your oven to dry thoroughly and it had cost you the morning.

"Probably not till after sunset. Why, are you afraid of being alone?" You teased, hoisting the heavy basket onto the crook of your arm. Eren shrugged a shoulder.

"'m not afraid. Just don't want to miss you for too long." He replied, looking at you from under his dark lashes. God, did he know how hard he made it?

The basket went back on the table as you took his face in your hands, pushing chestnut locks from his cheeks to plant your lips on the newly exposed skin. From behind you the clock ticked mockingly, reminding you of why it was so hard.

"Remember the path to the beach?" You asked and he nodded, his cheek pressed to yours. "Follow it down. Walk an hour west until the river cuts it. I usually cross a bridge there, but if you wait by the woods... I'll let you carry my groceries." He scoffed, nudging your chin with his knuckle so he could plant a kiss upon your lips.

"Too generous. I'll see you there." He grunted, pushing back a lock of hair before you pulled away. You turned at the doorway to smile at him once more. Pekoe had jumped atop his shoulders, and two pairs of emeralds regarded you now. Her tail curled around his neck.

"Keep driftwood company, okay kitty?" You commanded, and Eren smiled slightly. He had been doing that more often. Nothing as brazen as the laugh from before, but it fell like rays of sun peeking after a story.

"Thought you fell into the sea." Anka exclaimed as you pushed open the door to the bakery. You smiled sheepishly, unloading the jams you had collected for her, and removing the salve from your pocket.

"I was under the weather, I'm sorry for the wait." You apologised sincerely, bowing slightly at the waist while the old woman waved her hand flippantly.

"None of that, just glad to see you well. Rations holding up okay?" You nodded as she placed fresh bread into a bag, making your tastebuds shiver in anticipation. "Hope you didn't waste any on that blacksmith's boy." Her tone was teasing, and she grinned at the horror on your face. Did word work around so quickly?

"Oh, no. He was only there for a moment." She hmmed in response, arching a thin eyebrow. You sincerely didn't want anyone to catch the wrong idea. It was one thing to allow a foreign blooded woman like you to stay on the island. It was another to get close, to bed her or to wed, or to even pretend to. You know the stares that the children would garner, with their skin the colour of dried prairies and baby deer.

It was almost as bad as having your blood tainted by an Eldian.

Anka nodded firmly. "Friendly boy, that Odo."

You feigned a wince. "Almost too friendly." She laughed heartily, slipping an end of lemon pound cake into the bag.

You could feel the eyes heavy upon you as you made your rounds. The smiles seemed even more forced, hands jumping back at the meer brush of your skin while handing over a jar or package. You could see Elias' sneer when you turned the corner and decided to simply walk past the merchant with nothing more than a "how do you do" and a friendly smile. The only one who spared you any sort of genuinity was Jessamine, with her sallow cheeks and distended stomach.

"You are an angel, did you know that?" She gasped as she uncorked the balm you had made for her skin, inhaling the rosehip and mint. "I'm going to name this thing after you." Your laughter mixed amicably as Mathis glowered from the corner. You spared him a soft smile, and the boy snapped his head away. You tried not to be offended.

"Better keep them cooking for a bit longer, don't want the daddy to miss their arrival." You said, watching as she expertly freed a chicken's plucked body of its head. "Is there any word of when they'll return?" She sighed forlornly, shaking her head.

"No, but we'll get news when Paola brings rations around. Been a while since I've seen that old man." You nodded, mind racing. He would be coming soon, and leaving with your heart tucked away amongst barrels and burlap if you could convince him.

"You're not due for another, what, 6 weeks? You should be fine." You comforted her, and she nodded solemnly. But your eyes lingered on how her collarbones fought against the conscripts of her skin. You hoped she would be fine.

Your estimation had been right. You lugged your basket and an extra bag along the beach, watching the setting sun make the waves look like leaping fire, then like darkened bruises and mirrors. It was a foggy evening, and you took a moment to pull your cloak shut. In the silence of your pause you could hear something shift to your left, within the embrace of the thicket.

It could have been the multitude of animals that resided in the forest, but you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

Your father had always encouraged you to trust your instinct. You remember staring at his crows feet while he bent over, dark brown eyes still with seriousness. "If you feel it in your heart, it's because your body is sensing things you're being too stubborn to see yourself."

What had it seen?

Carefully you picked up your basket again, balancing the bag inside it now. It put more weight upon your left arm, but allowed the right to remain free. You walked forward again, casting your senses out.

You couldn't see anything, nor hear. But you knew. There was something stalking you through the woods, using the fog as a cover.

And you realised you were leading it, or them, straight to Eren.

You turned sharply on your heel, moving directly into the forest despite your fear. Eren would be waiting by the edge. You prayed he would be alert, ready to hide. You wove your way deeper and deeper, hoping your familiarity with the woods wouldn't fail you. You didn't want to be lost all night.

From behind you you could almost hear leaves shifting, sticks snapping. Your pace picked up, and you wove between trees erratically, pausing for a moment against an especially large one. Another twig snap. Closer this time. You held your breath for what felt like hours. When you finally moved you were stiff, joints cracking with illuse.

You resumed your pace, no longer able to feel the ominous presence.

But still, you ran. It had to have been at least an hour past when you were supposed to meet him. You hoped he had made his way home. You burst into the clearing of your house, stumbling over the garden and up the steps. The windows were darkened, and you dropped the supplies on the porch gracelessly. He was out there, in the darkened forest, probably worried or the person chasing you had found him and-

A pair of strong hands grabbed your upper arms as you turned, and you stifled a shriek. But it was only Eren, eyebrows knit with concern as he pulled you towards him. You threw yourself into his chest, almost knocking him off of the top step. "You're okay." You gasped, clutching him to you, assuring yourself he was real and whole.

"What happened?" He asked, pulling away to stroke your face. "I waited for you, but when you took longer I got worried. I came back because I thought you passed me, and I just went out again to look."

"I'm sorry i-" you felt dumb now. You hadn't truly seen anything. But the fear was like bile in your throat. "I thought someone was following me. I didn't want to lead them to you so I doubled back and went through the forest. If there was somebody, I think I lost them." Your voice trailed off and you shifted uncomfortably. "It may have just been my over act-"

"No. Trust your body. If you felt you were being followed, I believe you." His arm wrapped around your shoulders and he guided you inside as you exhaled, grateful for the validation.

"People were just... Weird today. It felt bad. I don't know why anybody would but..." Eren sat you in the armchair, removing your cloak and pushing the futon to prop your feet up upon. He listened carefully as you tried to formulate the aura you had felt, ladling a bowl of stew he had prepared while you were out.

"I think you're right. There's no reason for anybody to follow you. But that doesn't mean someone wouldn’t make one up." He was leaned against the arm, his own bowl clutched in one hand as he stirred the broth slowly, watching as his reflection warped and danced. "We'll be careful." He let the spoon clink against the side of the bowl, reaching out to smooth your hair back. You ate in silence, and you could feel him watch as you bounced your leg, unable to quell your feelings of illease.

"Tell me a poem." He instructed, taking the bowls away. He returned to sit on the stool, taking your feet in his lap. You stared down at him with shock as he began to slowly raise your skirt, pushing it further and further up your skin. Once it was bunched by your waist he took your hand, making you grasp the fabric securely.

"I..." You trailed off as he lifted your legs, placing one on each shoulder. It was impossible to see his expression, his back to the roaring fire and face in shadows. But when he kissed your ankle, you felt a smirk. "Which poem?"

He hummed thoughtfully as he lips traveled along your calf, fingers kneading the unkissed one before switching over. "Whichever one reminds you of me."

Your lower lip swelled between your teeth as you bit down, trying to keep the butterflies in your stomach from escaping. Your mind raced through what you could possibly have memorized that could do him, him with his firm fingers and gentle lips, justice. His lips were soft, cloyingly sweet as they made their way up, up, up your brown skin.

"Well, go on."

You swallowed as he dragged your hips to the edge of the seat, fingers lazily tracing shapeless scenes on the outsides of your thighs.

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets."

You began, voice breaking as he licked a languid stripe across your inner thigh. He tsk'd gently.

"Don't stop now, pretty girl. Keep going." He encouraged, mouth open against your sensitive skin.

"Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day

I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps."

He was mere centimetres from your heat, his tongue thin and volatile as it danced around the edge of your panties. He tapped the side of your hip, and you lifted obediently, allowing him to hook a finger through the waistband and peel them down. You felt his absence like a wound when he pulled away to toss them aside, and your legs threatened to close shut around him when he returned. Now nothing saved your pussy from his breath, cooling the warm liquid that dripped from it.

"Continue." Eren commanded.

"I hunger for your sleek laugh,

your hands the color of a savage harvest,"

Your toes curled involuntarily as he planted a firm, loving kiss to your lower lips. He pulled away slightly to show you how he licked your wetness from his mouth, tasting you. His eyes glinted, like a wolf that had smelled an easy hunt on the wind.

"Hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails," you choked out, and he dug them into your skin in response, dragging his fingers down, then once more back up. He made heat bloom on your skin, and you felt like the earth being tilled.

He kissed the outer folds, lips like butterflies; barely glancing on your needy skin. Your hands gripped your skirt tighter, pulling it up towards your chest.

"I want to eat your skin like a whole almond." You all but spat, voice hoarse. There was a low chuckle between your legs, and the ghost of a smirk against your skin before Eren devoured you. All pretense of softness disappeared as his tongue sunk between your folds, eagerly spearing into your wanting hole before dragging upwards to slide along your clit. Your voice caught, back arching as you pressed into his mouth. He gripped your thighs harder, pressing you back into the couch as his tongue flicked over, and over and over your now throbbing clit.

His lips closed around it, giving a slow, long suck that made your eyes roll back and a hand go to his hair, gripping the ochre strands as you gasped.

"You're not done. Keep going." He said, muffled by your pussy. His eyes opened for a moment, meeting your gaze with an intensity that stole the rest of your breath. You were doubled over now, holding onto him desperately. He groaned everytime your fingers tugged at him, sending delicious vibrations against your slick lips.

"I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,

the sovereign nose of your a-arrogant face,

I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,"

You had thrown your head back now, leaning back into the chair as you bucked your hips erratically, his tongue sliding fat and thick against you. A hand slipped down, fingers prodding your lips till they entered your hole. He curled them, finding the fleshy nub on your soft walls, the one that made you keen with pleasure. He halted, humming disappointedly. Your head shot up, eyes brimming with tears as the growing heat cooled rapidly.

"The poem isn't finished? Is it?"

You let out a broken sob, moving your hips closer to him. You were close, you were so close.

"and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,

hunting for you," You stammered out, and reinvigorated he resumed, fingers pumping as you tightened around him. He drank you like a man dying of thirst, the noises loud and lewd.

"F-for your hot heart..." Every muscle in your body was tight, the backs of your eyelids a kaleidoscope of paradise. "E-eren, gonna cum... Gonna cum...."

He growled with pleasure around your clit, his pace quickening. Strands of hair escaped your grasp, and he looked so beautiful, two fingers deep and chin sloppy with your mess. Your pleasure pooled under you, wetting the old chair.

You had a line left. A singular line. But before you could make it, his fingers danced against your sweet spot in the most tempting of ways while his tongue dragged at the most perfect angle.

And you came. His name burst from your lips, and your back arched so dramatically you could no longer feel the chair. Just him, holding your ass tenderly while he rode out your orgasm, letting your pussy pulsate on his fingers.

You fell back onto the chair, chest heaving as his face raised. He licked his lips slowly, wiping the excess on his sleeve.

"Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue." You finished, swiping your hair from your forehead. He moved up your body like a cloud bank, hands trailing up to catch your chin. He kissed you like a storm, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your legs still trembled as you fell asleep, having made your way to bed stumbling and giggling, drowsy with defeat. It was an unneeded stroke to Eren's ego.

He lay beside you, watching the moonlight highlight the bow of your lips and the apples of your cheek. The sea of your tresses melded with his, and for a few moments he played with the locks. He wound and unwound them, and imagined a life where you would never be more than a hair's breadth away

AN: Thanks so much for reading this chapter guys! It was very self indulgent. Tag list is open for anybody who would like to be added, there’s going to be approx four more chapters of this and if I’m being honest.... they’re all gonna hurt in different ways. Be prepared.

TAG LIST: @zimzalabim1110 @stargazing-dreamer-girl @reiboa @envey @christian-do @shellycooperrrr @naiomiwinchester @onwiings

#eren jaeger #aot #attack on titan #⚔️ — the titan warriors #eren yeager #eren x reader #snk eren #attack on titan fanfiction #eren jaeger smut #eren x y/n #shingeki no kyoujin eren #minors dni #attack on titan eren #eren smut #eren x you #eren yeager smut #snk #♛- text

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lilhawkeye3 · 4 years ago

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Find Your Way Back Home- Ch 3

Riyo Chuchi x Commander Wolffe, Riyo Chuchi x Commander Fox

Rating: T |||| Word Count: 1.9k |||| Set Post Order 66 |||| AO3 Link

previous • next

Riyo gripped the kitchen countertop tighter than anything in her whole life. The loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears threatened to drown out the pounding of her heart as she sought a tether point in her whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t do this.

How could she do this? The ghosts she’d left on Coruscant were now seeking shelter in her bedroom.

She’d looked at Wolffe laid out on her bed, and some sick part of her expected him to be Fox. She used to bandage her lover’s wounds on their bed in her old apartment. What had she done to deserve this cosmic taunt?

“Riyo?”

Riyo’s hands flew to her mouth to hold in her startled shriek at Ahsoka’s appearance just to her left. Her friend’s lips twisted into an apologetic smile, and she patiently waited for Riyo to come down from her sudden rush of adrenaline. Her rusty hand cupped Riyo’s elbow to help ground her.

“I’m so sorry,” Riyo murmured, blinking rapidly to hide her brimming tears before she met Ahsoka’s gaze.

The Togruta’s eyes were sad as she searched for the right words, despite them both knowing nothing would ease Riyo’s pain. “You see him.”

Riyo tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a gasp for air after so long underwater. “How can I not?” Her tears stubbornly refused to fall now, despite clamoring at the floodgates only moments ago. “I can’t… I can’t focus on this right now.”

“You can’t go back in there right now either,” Ahsoka calmly pointed out. “Wolffe needs to heal.”

And so grew her guilt. “I know.” She needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy. “I’ll get some more juvan ready so I can make a cold pack and show Rex what to do. You’ll both need to know how for when you go back.” She tried to ignore the predatory way Ahsoka’s eyes followed her around the kitchen as she gathered supplies.

“I find that talking helps sometimes,” Ahsoka quietly suggested, once Riyo stood back at the sink with her items gathered around.

“I’m not sure I remember how to do that after so long on my own,” Riyo muttered, grabbing a bundle of leaves from a jar more harshly than they deserved.

“No time better than the present.”

Riyo paused to stare calculatingly at her friend. She wasn’t lying about not knowing if she’d be able to speak of her nightmares after so long bottling it all in. “I propose a trade.”

One of Ahsoka’s painted brows rose in interest. “A trade.”

“I will tell you if you update me on your… situation.” She’d tiptoed around the circumstances of her guests’ arrival– and unlikely survival– for the past few days.

“Alright, deal.”

Riyo’s hands hovered uncertainly as she tries to steady her breathing before she begins. Where to even start? She’d tried so hard to forget that night six months ago. Now she had to relive it in full.

“I… I was home for the night.” Riyo doesn’t even recognize her voice with how vacant it sounds. “Everything was normal, even when I got a call from Co– Thire.” She didn’t want to relegate them to their titles. Those men– her friends– were worth much more than that. “He’d call sometimes if Fox was too busy to come home.”

Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out.

“There’s– there was a code phrase Fox had me agree to. Dusk is falling soon. If one of us used it in a communication, we knew it was from the other.” Her hands began to shake as she ground the juvan up. “Thire said it to me that night. He said I had to flee Coruscant while I still could, before I was marked as a traitor by the Chancellor. That Fox needed to know I was safe, because… because he didn’t think he was coming home.”

“Oh, Riyo…”

Riyo tried to laugh but she choked on her voice. “No, no it’s fine. Please don’t feel sorry for me, not after–”

Not after what you’ve lost. It hangs in the air like a shadow, chilling the two women to the bone.

She could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on her for a long moment before she conceded. “Alright. So you fled Coruscant?”

Riyo nodded. “Yes. I waited for him, but… then I gathered those I could and had a trusted pilot shuttle us off. It wasn’t just those from my office, though. There were several other members from Pantora’s allies that we also safely evacuated. It was beneficial in the long run, since the number of hyperspace jumps we needed to make ensured that we weren’t followed.”

“That was wise of you,” Ahsoka confirmed. “You most likely had been tailed. The Empire has been interrogating anyone they view even as having a potential to be rebellious.”

Riyo dipped her head in a gentle nod. “And I never was one of the Cha– Emperor’s greedy followers,” she added.

Her friend’s lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “No, you weren’t.”

“Anyways, I timed my resignation to autosend sometime during our flight, and I contacted Bail, who gave us directions to follow. That’s all there really is to tell,” Riyo sheepishly shrugged, relieved to be finished and able to turn her attention back to the juvan leaves she’d laid out. They needed to be diced and then ground with water into a paste that could be either frozen and saved, or wrapped in a damp cloth and held to the wound.

“So, my turn then?” Ahsoka asked, faux-cheer evident in her voice but appreciated.

Riyo nodded, thankful for something else to focus on. She beckoned her over though, waiting until the Togruta was looking over her shoulder. “Just make sure to watch how I do it, so you’ll be able to on your own. The leaves have to be separated carefully, or you’ll negate the medicinal qualities.”

Ahsoka observed quietly as Riyo worked, nodding along to each specific task that Riyo pointed out. It was quite simple, but an untrained eye would still mess it up. It was nice to have someone at her side. She’d been so used to being alone.

“We agreed on a trade?” Ahsoka prompted, once Riyo stepped aside and handed the knife over for her to try. “Would you still like to hear what we’ve seen?”

Riyo bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself afloat in the surge of stress that threatens to sweep her away. “Yes, please.”

Ahsoka nodded sharply, and then the knife made its first clean slice. “We were on our way back from Mandalore after apprehending Darth Maul– the Sith Zabrak,” she elaborated for Riyo’s sake. “And an order went out to all the clone troopers, everywhere in the galaxy: execute Order 66, to kill the Jedi.” Her fingers clenched around the knife handle to the point that Riyo thought it’d snap. “Somehow Rex… he fought it long enough to warn me to find a file about Fives, an ARC trooper that–”

Riyo could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of that name, one she’d long forgotten. “I remember. Fox… he shot him, to protect the Emperor.” It felt like lifetimes ago.

In a twisted sense, it was. It’d been during Fox’s lifetime, when he still came home to her every night.

Ahsoka hummed in agreement. “Right. Well, Fives had told Rex that the clones all had control chips in their heads, and that a damaged chip had caused another trooper to shoot a Jedi. No one believed him.” Her shoulders drooped. “I was able to capture Rex and take the chip out of his head, and he was back to normal. I… I let Maul out of his cell though as a distraction, and he damaged the ship so it crashed into a moon. We lost the whole battalion,” she finished in a whisper, head bowed.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” Riyo gasped. She wasn’t sure how a hug would be received, so she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were teary when she looked up. “Thank you, but please don’t be for me. I took a risk, and it was Rex’s brothers that paid the consequences.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad we found Wolffe. There have been other clones that escaped, but Wolffe was always one of his closest brothers.”

A small smile slipped onto her face unbidden. “I’m glad for the both of them as well. How did you find Com– Wolffe, though? You all barely made it here,” she pointed out.

The Togruta sighed. “You know Bail’s been coordinating a lot recently. We were sent out on a mission to try and contact a defector from the Empire. They’re a medic, and they’ve been treating several troopers sent to them for abnormal behavior. We arrived to get them out, and Wolffe was their latest patient, but they were being watched.” She stopped talking to peer at her work cautiously. “Is this correct?”

She stepped out of the way so Riyo could observe her work. “This is very good for anyone’s first try,” Riyo praised her. “Now we just need to grind it with some water to get a thick enough paste.”

Ahsoka waited for Riyo to set up the next step before continuing. “We had the freed men escort the medic onto our waiting ship, but we couldn’t take Wolffe back to base because of his chip. I followed their instructions to try and deactivate it, but we had to leave in a hurry. It took us a few days and several firefights before we lost them well enough to get here.”

“Had no idea you’d gotten that good with a blaster, either.”

Riyo bit back a shriek as Rex’s voice piped up from behind them. Good thing she’d been using the mortar and not a knife, otherwise she might’ve cut herself. At least he had the decency to send her an apologetic smile once she whirled around to face him.

“Gee thanks, Rex,” Ahsoka huffed, reaching out to playfully slap his chest. The two of them shared a grin, and Riyo decided to study the wooden floor beneath her feet until they snapped out of it. She wouldn’t dare disrupt their small moment of joy.

“I came out to let you know Wolffe is asleep again,” Rex finally explained his presence after he shook himself free of their little bubble. “We spoke some, but he tired quickly.”

That was good. He clearly was suffering from some form of head injury, so any amount of time Wolffe was able to be awake and coherent was a step in the right direction.

“Alright, that’s wonderful news. We should be able to apply this compress despite that.” Riyo picked up the bowl of ground javun and gestured at a clean cloth folded on the counter top. “Would you grab that and come with me? I’ll show you what to do, so you know how in the future.”

A quiet grief crept up her spine with each step she took back towards Wolffe’s room. He needed her help. She could pull herself together for him.

Riyo entered the room alone and took the seat beside Wolffe’s still form. Rex would be along in a minute.

Until then, she studied the still man’s face, finding and cataloguing each unique feature of him and hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt her like before.

#find your way back home #commander wolffe x riyo chuchi #riyo chuchi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #post order 66 #fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe #snowwolf

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jojo-fantasy-aus · 5 years ago

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Fantasy AU!

Josuke x F! Reader- CH 1.

First post, yay! This will be a longer series, so feel free to give me any criticism or suggestions!

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Being born into a peasant family was definitely not the greatest way to secure a happy life, but you made due with it. Your mother was a seamstress, father a carpenter, and you made it a point to learn everything you could from both of them. The more skills you had, the more likely you were to get a better job, and in turn, create a better life for you and your family.

And that was exactly what you did. You managed to get a job at the Royal Palace, a favor from some family friends, and quickly moved up the ranks. Everyone knew that it was because you were kind, and had made a good impression on the king, but you'd rather say that it was because of all the hard work you had done.

You had been the head lady-in-waiting for some time now, and had thought you'd seen everything. The Crown Princess, your beautiful best friend, tended to always get into some sort of trouble. You always made a point to try and prepare yourself for any incoming inconveniences, but today was... different.

"I just don't understand why Father makes me go to these things!" You hummed in response, currently focused on lacing up the powder pink dress she was to wear tonight. The beautiful fabrics elegantly draping just below her ankles, you regarded the dress with pride, it was one of your mother's designs. She was over the moon when Yukako asked for one to be made for the People's Gala.

The People's Gala was more of a festival than anything. An outdoor event, and favorite of everyone in the kingdom. The festival was a kindness the king gave the commoners every year to show his gratitude. It was a wonderful tool to keep the everyone in the kingdom happy.

"Well, there isn't another crown princess to attend for you, Yukako." She huffed, standing patiently still as you tightened her corset to a breathable squeeze. You checked her hem for any stains or rips once more, and stood once you were done, making sure she could move around just fine. Smiling a bit when you remembered something that was sure to lift her spirits.

"You know, rumor around the Palace is that the page boy you like will be attending. Koichi Hirose, was it?" Yukako's icy face lifted immediately, excitedly turning around to clutch your hands. She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly closed it. Brows furrowed, frowning. You already knew what she was thinking. A ball of sadness and empathy forming in the pit of your chest.

"I'm sure he wouldn't want to see me again. Not after what happened." You had almost forgotten. You sighed, the princess had... a bit of a manic episode a while back. Focusing on Koichi in an... unhealthy amount. Needless to say, he had become quite wary of her. But she still snuck glances at him when she attended the royal library during her studies. You had never been in love yourself, but you knew enough about it to know she had it bad.

"I'm sure he won't be too flighty Yukako. At least you will be able to see him once again?" You murmur half-heartedly, briskly making your way around the room to blow out rose-sented candles and put things you had used to get her ready back in place.

"I suppose..." you let out a pitiful chuckle, hoping that your friend would feel better once she was at the gala. It had become her favorite, but only because she always seemed to be able to speak to Koichi as he shadowed the head page during the king's speech. You didn’t actually know Koichi that well, so you hoped for the princess' sake that he had forgiving mannerisms.

You quickly brought the Princess' shoes out, and laced up your own boots as she put them on. Smoothing out your plain blue skirt as you stood, you held out an arm to escort the princess. Usually it was unseemly to see a woman escorting another, but Yukako refused to let anyone else escort her. The king only allowed it because you managed to keep her out of trouble. (It was also partly due to the fact that she was too infatuated with Koichi to have eyes for a woman.)

The walk down to the palace gates was unfortunately, and uncomfortably, long. Yukako was squirming in her corset the entire time, desperately trying to look ladylike while she did. You tapped her arm lightly, a simple reminder to keep her composure. Servants and cooks were running around the ground floor like crazy, frantically trying to get everything together. Weaving in and out if the fray was quite tiring, but eventually the two of you made it to the gates unscathed.

Vendor tents were proped up as far as the eye could see, sweet smells floating in the breeze to antagonize those who had not yet eaten. The guards let you through with a wave as you and Yukako prepared yourselves for the onslaught of people along the streets.

The tents were all decorated beautifully, flowers and suns and other symbols painted on the cloth roofing. The setting sun casting a beautiful golden hue on everything and everyone. Those who recognized the princess bowed and curtsied as you passed, and those who didn't just waved and gawked at her beautiful dress. Some simply said nothing, as her cold outside demeanor seemed a bit intimidating. You knew yourself that she could be a bit scary when she wanted to be, but right now she was in awe. Looking at all the vendors with a sparkle in her eye. It was good to see her be herself in public for once.

"Try not to get too enamored, Princess, your father wants us to meet him for his speech. Knowing him we'll be there all day." You mused, leading her through the crowd carefully, keeping away from alleys and sketchy figures. You knew you were probably being overly cautious, but for some reason you just felt the need to be careful. Nerves welling in your stomach telling you so. Having always had correct gut feelings, you search for something else to focus on to mask the concern, not wanting Yukako to lose her cool herself.

You thought about that for a moment, no, Yukako would never be thrown into a panic due to gut feelings. She'd be a bit more defensive maybe, but she'd never let weakness like that show.

Every once and a while you would pass a few royal guardsmen watching over the festival, you made a point to wave at them when you could to make sure they were watching you and the princess. This settling sense of anxiety was pointless, you knew, but you certainly would rather take precautions then suffer the consequences.

At last, you had finally made it to the gazebo. Elegant white and gold trim framed the marble pillars, ceiling slumped in a slender tent-shape. It had been freshly cleaned, but the doves still fluttered about in the rafters. The king was atop a temporary throne, speaking to his advisors. The knights at all four corners bowed as you two carefully ascended the steps.

"Yukako! Dear, just who I wanted to see!" The king cheered when he spotted her, calling out your name just after. The king was a rather large, jolly man. He wasn't quite handsome, not to the point of being ugly, but needless to say it was hard to believe that Yukako had come from, well, him. The king's crown sat grandly upon his head, dressed in fine fabrics and deep indigo colors he certainly looked the part for his title.

"I assume that there were no problems arriving?"

"No, your majesty." The words fell from your mouth robotically, more of a reflex than an answer at this point.

"Wonderful!" The king started to ramble on as he does, and your thoughts drifted to lunch, the chores awaiting you at home. You wanted to think about anything that could make the time possible pass faster. The king continued to drone on, always prone to these things. Yukako herself looked like she was about to fall asleep from boredom. Her arm slipped out of yours quite a bit ago, but you hadn't really noticed. Blankly staring at the king as he spoke about the splendid flower arrangements, and the farms that they came from.

"Yes your majesty, the hydrangeas are quite beautiful." He heartily laughed, sending a friendly wink your way.

"They always have been Yukako's favorite! Ever since she was a girl she- Yukako?" The king looked around with a confused look, you didn't understand why. The princess was right next to you-

But then again, she wasn't. She had disappeared from you side. You spun a around in a panic, searching through the wide, open, gazebo. She was nowhere to be found. You were right about the gut feeling yet again, weren't you. Panic built up from your stomach and pushed into your chest, overwhelming any other sense.

"Princess?" You try your best to push the words out of your throat, turning to the side exit. Your eyes desperately search through the crowd. The king was talking to you, words muffled, you had blocked everything out, just until you saw a flash of pink in the crowd.

"Hurry and find her!" And just like that, you took off in a sprint. Calling for her as you pushed through the crowd. Your heart was pounding in your ears. Didn't she know how dangerous this was? The least gaurded festival of them all and she decided to disappear like that? Was it even her own decision to run off, or was she taken. You didn't know, and you certainly couldn't rationize anything right now.

The methodical feeling of your boots hitting the ground and pushing you forward was what you focused on to keep you calm. Step, push. Step, push. Rinse and repeat until you had almost collected your witts. There!-A flash of her pink skirt around the corner. You had found her. Or, you did, before your foot skidded across the gravel, and you plummeted to the ground. You slammed against the gravel, hard.

"Whoah! Are you ok?" You pushed yourself off the ground as quickly as you could, but a pair of hands steadied you as you stood. They belonged to a taller man, blue eyes peering at you quizzically. He was a muscular build, probably a knight, you assumed. His hair was done up in such away that you would assume he was a royal, if it weren't his dirtied chain mail armor. You certainly had no time to gawk however. You tried to take off running once again, but he caught your arm.

"Let me go!"

"Just hold on a moment, would you? Why the rush? Are you being chased?" You didn’t have time for these questions! To no avail you tried to tug your arm away from him. And when you realized he wouldn't let you go you blurted out the only thing you could think of in that moment.

"The princess is missing, I'm trying to find her, so let- Go!" His eyes widened, grip loosening for a split second, just enough for you to slip away. Once again sprinting in the direction you saw her last, turning the corner. The guy who had let you go was calling for you, and somehow made it to your side almost impossibly quick.

The crowd started to become denser as the pathways winded farther away from the gazebo. Carts rumbling around the walkways and vendors passing out samples in the streets. Unwillingly you had started to slow, the man pulling ahead of you by just a bit.

It was hard to pay attention to the people around you while you searched for Yukako. Bumping into one person and then another as you squeezed through the crowds. Turning your head just a bit you saw that the man still had an eyes on you. Peering over his shoulder as he ran. He mouthed something to you that you couldn't quite understand.

You almost tripped again when he grabbed your hand, and yanked you into a makeshift alleyway.

"What the hell do you think your doing!?" You yanked your hand away from him, running back to the entrance and trying to peer over the dense amount of people. Nothing. You started to get angry. Yukako could be in danger and you had lost her trail thanks to him.

"I'm helping you find your princess." You wiped around in rage, a mouthful of words ready to fire. But once you looked past him, you saw that characteristically long hair, powder pink dress dirtied from her disappearance. A little man with silver hair, Koichi, defensively standing in front of her. You stood in shock, he did help you find her.

"Oh, Josuke! Its just you," Koichi dropped his defensive demeanor, and Yukako's eyes followed him, completely enamored. She hardly even notice your disheveled, panicked self next to the handsome stranger that Koichi apparently knew.

"Yeah, sorry for the interruption-" Your shock started to wear off a bit as they talked, relief and anger overwhelming your senses. Yukako was actually smiling as she watched Koichi talk though, at least she was happy.

That's what you wanted to think anyway. You were too overwhelmed with emotion to think if anything but the fact that she wasn't hurt, and she was certainly not dead. Both men looked at you quizzically as you passed them and wrapped Yukako in a hug.

"Yukako, what were you thinking?!" You had started to tear up, holding onto her tightly. You had forgotten about formalities just this once, thankful that your friend was ok. Once you let go of her she simply shrugged, pointing a sour look at you. Making eye contact and flicking her eyes to Koichi and back. Oh.

You eyed Koichi with suspicion, and he immediately stiffened up, starting to ramble.

"I'm sorry! I was just enjoying the festival and then I saw Yuka- her highness! And I thought she was lost so I-" Honestly it became harder to understand what he was saying the more he went on. The man from before, Josuke? Clapped a hand on Koichi's back, and he started to chill out a bit. Josuke looked up at you with a slight smile, and you almost blushed. He was quite handsome. You cleared your throat.

"I suppose I should thank you. I'm sorry for the rudeness." He laughed, and you knew you were blushing, you tried your best to suppress whatever spell he had you under, treating it as a simple, shallow emotion that you wanted to rid yourself of.

"Don't sweat it," He said curtly. "You had me thinking that she was in danger though, I'm a little pissed at that. But I don't mind." The crude words almost hung in the air, it was strange to hear people cursing so openly. You used to have the mouth of a sailor yourself, until the proper poise of the castle servants started to rub off on you too. Lord help the soul who curses in front of the king.

"I know that her highness can be a bit unmanageable sometimes." His eyes grew serious, looking dead at you like the Princess wasn't even there. You could feel Yukako prickle behind you. She was definitely pissed. your face had twisted in a foul way at his words as well, but you pushed out a sigh, pushing down the defensive words you wanted to say because you knew he was right.

Koichi started to complain at Josuke's attitude and you almost felt relieved when his serious gaze shifted away from your own. You turned back to Yukako with a sigh as the friends bicker. She still had her eyes squarely on Koichi.

"Yukako, what happened?" You whisper, lacing your hands together to resist popping your knuckles or fidgeting. Yukako folds her arms, dark gaze pointed at you once again. You probably would've been afraid if it weren't for the fact that you knew her well enough that she wasn't going to pose any threat as long as Koichi was around.

"I'm not going to apologize because I'm not sorry. The old man should've known how boring his speeches were anyway." She explains why she ran off, Koichi was in the crowd, he waved, mouthing something to her. She ran over to him on impulse, and he panicked, trying to get her somewhere where there were less people, and where there was less of a chance of her getting hurt.

She started to blush when she started to get to the end, you suppose that something more happened between her and Koichi that she was leaving out, but didn't press. Instead, you raise your eyebrows at Yukako with a slight smile. She playfully swats you away, fully flustered now.

Neither of you knew what to do when you heard the screaming.

It was everywhere, women, children, and men alike, the crowd outside the alley clearing out fast, people frantically running from something or someone. You slowly step forward to stand beside Josuke, Koichi backing away to make sure yukako was ok. You tried to peer over the crowd looking for what the commotion was all about.

You yelp as someone yanks you back, but you already knew who it was, recognizing the restrained tug. You snap your head up to spit out a retort at Josuke, but the words die in your throat, he was focused on something that you couldn't see. His eyes set in a terrifying manner, you couldn't tell if the fear stinging in your chest was because of him or the mass panic. His hand remained on your back, softly holding onto you.

"...Jo…Josuke…" Koichi's cough causes you to jump, heart pounding in your ears as you and Josuke whipped around. Both Yukako and Koichi were in a coughing fit, a mysterious gas filling the back of the alley. You didn't think it was even possible for any more panic to settle in your chest until you saw Yukako double over, falling to the ground in her fit. Koichi fell beside her as you ran to them. Josuke was calling for you to come back but you could only hear the blood rushing in your ears.

The moment you stepped into the mist it felt like you couldn't breath. The gas ripping coughs out of your chest, lighting your lungs on fire and leaving you to struggle to push out the smoke. Your eyesight became blurry as you saw figures step out of the thickest part of the mist.

"N...no…" You struggled out, watching as they picked the two of them up.The insignia on their backs burning into your memory. Your eyes began to get heavier and heavier, you started to slip into the abyss.

You didn't know how Josuke pulled you out of the mist. In fact, you didn't even realize you were out until you were in his arms as he ran. You tried to speak, but only a groan came out. It was hard to focus, hard to stay awake… Everything was hazy and hard to understand.

"Don't you fall asleep on me, ok?" Your chest felt wet and sticky, a pain in your chest starting to reveal itself. Were you bleeding? You couldn't think straight. What had happened? Where were Koichi and the Princess? You could hear arrows whiz past you and Josuke. He cursed under his breath, and you weakly held onto him as he made a sharp turn.

He suddenly stopped. Shit. Dead end. He held you a little tighter as his face shifted into something unreadable. You were beginning to wake up more, but the pain in your chest remained constant. Josuke suddenly set you down with an apology as he set you against a wall to keep your balance, hands grazing your waist as he pulled away. It was getting easier to focus, you pressed a hand to where the pain was centered on your chest, sticky blood coating your hand when you took it away.

You almost felt faint, the adrenaline starting to set in again. You frantically looked for Josuke again, scared that he had left you. You spotted him at the very end of the alley, flinching as the sound of metal on concrete echoed off the walls. Josuke was catching his breath after setting the sewer grate down, facing you slightly.

"We're going in there, aren't we." You murmured, the anxiety returning as shouting grew closer to the alley. Josuke let out a pained laugh as he quickly made his way back to you. Helping you hobble over to the open grate. He hopped in first and you sat down, feet dangling through the hole, when you managed to move in just the wrong angle. A stabbing pain shot through your chest and you sucked in breath, unable to move.

Thank God Josuke noticed, a worried look flashed across his face. He grabbed your arm with one hand and hooked the other under your knees, awkwardly maneuvering you through the open grate. You could tell he was trying to be gentle, but the pain only grew worse. Your face contorted in pain as he gently set you down on the concrete maintenance path, his arms remaining put. You glanced up just in time to see the grate slide shut on. it's. own.

"What the Fuck?" You whisper, earning a wide smile from Josuke. His face quickly changed when loud voices shouted overhead.

"I thought you said they went this way, dimwit!" Josuke pressed you to his chest protectively, ready to take off with you in his hands if he had too. You could feel how built he was through the chain mail, and realized he had supported your weight along with the armour the entire way he had carried you. The thought alone makes you blush. You needed to put out this crush, he was a stranger you just met.

"They did go this way! I swear!" A scoff and the sound of a slap echoed, you flinched a bit, keeping your eyes closed tight as you prayed for them to leave.

You and Josuke both started to calm down as the footsteps grew farther and farther away. Josuke's stiff posture relaxing, yourself letting out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

It was silent for a while after, you assumed Josuke was waiting a while longer to speak just in case the men returned. You almost missed the warmth of his body as he pulled away to look through the grate. Satisfied with whatever he had seen, he sat down next to you, completely relaxed. Confident in that the men were long gone, (Thanks to Josuke's reaction,) you gathered the strength to speak.

"Where are they?" Your voice cracked. Josuke avoided eye contact with you, leaning his head back on the cold stone behind the two of you. You could clearly see that he was ashamed, and worry started to boil over in your chest.

"I couldn't get to them." He was struggling with the words, and you just knew he was holding something back from you. Keeping some sort of detail to himself.

A rush of mixed emotions flooded through you. Did he just leave them behind? Why?! What did he even mean he "couldn't get to them"? You decide to keep your manners in check as you sit. He was obviously a close friend of Koichi, and out of everyone you knew it was clear to you that Koichi was too honest and respectable to remain close with someone unworthy of trusting. If Koichi trusted him, you decided that you probably should too.

Shifting uncomfortably where he was sitting, Josuke turned towards you and oh so gently moved your arms a bit so he could see the wound on your chest better. Chills ran rampant across your arms, and you hoped he wouldn't notice.

"I managed to drag you out of there with my stand. But when I hesitated to get us out of there they started to shoot." Your brows furrowed in confusion as he scooted closer. You shuddered as he pulled open the ripped part of your white blouse just enough to see the shallow wound. It stretched from the tip of your shoulder to just below your armpit, and damn did it hurt like hell when he exposed it to the open air.

"Stand?" Josuke shook his head, and you were in too much pain to demand an explanation. Josuke's hands remained on the edges of the ripped fabric, and even though you could see them it somehow felt like he was touching the wound.

"An arrow grazed you a little too close while I was standing there like a dunce, I want to apologize for that. I should've registered that we needed to escape before you were hurt." You suck in a ragged gasp as the pressure of the invisible touch increased just lightly, and suddenly the pain stopped. You look in awe as the wound starts to heal itself up completely.

"A knight and a Mage too?" You mused after the initial shock wore off. It wasn't uncommon for "magic" and healers to be heard of, but it was certainly a shock to actually meet one. You honestly had been a little skeptical until now, and it was still hard to believe.

"Something like that." Josuke smiles lightly, sitting back against the wall where he was before. You didn't talk much after that. He asked you if you remembered what the men looked like, and you tried your best to explain the symbols on their cloaks, but you were afraid that you weren't very good at it.

Josuke couldn't quite understand what you were describing, and you both ended up agreeing that you both needed to look for Koichi and Yukako. Josuke as the muscle and you for… information? Moral support?

You didn’t know, but with Yukako's life on the line you weren't going to take no for an answer even if he wanted to find them alone.

Your eyes started to grow heavy, but you didn't want to sleep. You felt too open, to vulnerable to sleep. Josuke was a complete stranger, and yet he had done more for you than anyone else had in ages. He had helped you, saved your life even, but doubt still trickled in through the back door of your mind. How long would it last?

You wouldn't follow down that rabbit hole anymore tonight, sleep taking over your body swiftly as you truly started to process everything that had just happened.

#jjba josuke #josuke x reader #josuke higashitaka #josuke 4 #jjba #jjba x reader #fantasy au #it takes two fic

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shimanamii · 4 years ago

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schnee week (schneek!) day 3: weiss multiship

hey, everyone! so in between other fics, i’ve been chipping away at that HoM sequel — aka Schneekos Fic™ — and i’m superrr pumped to actually finish CH. 1 eventually and post it for real lmao, but for now!! please enjoy a preview :’))) <3

~ ~

PEARL OF ATLAS (Heart of Menagerie sequel) [preview]

ch. 1, “Thief from Thieves”

There were other, more pressing concerns, of course, but Weiss realized, collapsing into her seat and staring out at the crowded platform, that it was her first time on a train.

In Atlas, she’d always had her father’s airships to whisk her away from place to place. Well, granted she had the permission. Now, though, all of it, the etiquette, the approval (more often a lack thereof), that glittering birdcage of rules—it all seemed so unforgivably stupid. Like there’d never been a point to any of it. So, yes, it was her first time on a train. Her first time in Argus. Most surprising of all, her first time running away, though not, however, her first time telling a somewhat easy lie to her father’s face to do it.

She curled her hand around the cold, smooth object nestled deep in her coat pocket. It was her first official heist, too. And it wasn’t exactly petty theft.

Pyrrha’s long ponytail swung into view, and then the hint of a smile, quick and reassuring. “You should try to get some sleep on the way there,” she said, her knee softly knocking Weiss’s as she settled in the seat across from her. “Mistral is pretty far.”

Pyrrha was only looking out for her. She seemed to have taken up a bad habit of doing that. But Weiss couldn’t imagine being able to shut her eyes for a moment, not with something so precious—so dangerous—clinging to the palm of her hand. Not with the blur of unfamiliar faces around her.

Weiss sank into the oversized coat, the collar rising to her ears. “I’m not tired,” she mumbled, though admittedly, after the sleepless couple of days she’d had in Argus, she was starting to feel those first few tugs on her eyelids.

To be honest, Weiss still wasn’t quite sure what to make of her impromptu Mistralian guide. Slash bodyguard. Slash, she supposed, accomplice. Though they did make somewhat of a conspicuous pair—Pyrrha the hometown hero, Weiss the runaway heiress of the Schnee Dust Company. News like that traveled faster than smugglers’ airships, after all.

She counted herself lucky Pyrrha hadn’t dragged her off to the Atlesian base in Argus the moment she’d spied the Schnee family symbol on the inside of what Weiss had thought was her least eye-catching coat. The one she had on now was Pyrrha’s, almost comically too big on her. At least it was warm. It smelled like her, a firewood smell. It only made Weiss drowsier.

She tallied it silently, watching her companion out of the corner of her eye. That was five favors, more or less. A few days’ room and board, supplies, protection, an escort all the way to Mistral. And an ally—if that could really be counted on. All for next to nothing, or so Pyrrha claimed, that it was only her “duty as a huntress.” (Whatever that meant.) Weiss could pay her what was owed, but anyone else, huntress or not, would’ve seized on the opportunity right away to ship her back to Atlas, back to her father, for twenty times the reward.

So…Weiss thought she could be forgiven for her cynicism because, well, that wasn’t how the world worked, was it? Favors didn’t come freely. Everything had a price, even kindness. Or maybe it was especially kindness. But it wasn’t like she had a lot of options.

Soon, the glittering ocean and the city of Argus slipped completely behind them, and the cabin went dark as the train cut through the mountainside. Pyrrha’s eyes slid to hers in the dimness, the expression in them quietly curious, like she’d sensed she was being studied the entire time. For some reason, it made Weiss uneasy, being watched in return, being looked at in the closeness of the dark. She turned back to the window. The next moment, the mountain fell away, too, and only Anima’s steely winter landscape was left, stretching out toward the distant gray fringe of trees. Not exactly Mantle’s bitter tundra, but something about the scene reminded Weiss of it.

“I haven’t been home in a long time,” Pyrrha murmured, her voice almost startling in the quiet. “It feels…a little strange going back.”

Weiss chewed her lip. She wasn’t interested, exactly, but she felt the question leave her before she realized it was: “Why haven’t you?”

Pyrrha smiled. It wasn’t the open warmth Weiss had come to expect but something guarded, a little unreadable. Maybe Weiss was just slightly interested in that. “It’s so lonely in a big city like Mistral, don’t you think?” She leaned her chin into her hand. “Surrounded by people. Argus is quieter.”

Lonely… Weiss squeezed her rucksack to her chest. “I think I know what you mean.”

She thought about the view from the airship window when she was leaving Atlas, the Solitas Sea at night. Churning and endless, something completely unfathomable. The waves had gleamed under the moon like the shine of teeth from shadows.

She remembered looking out at that ocean and, despite all her best efforts, thinking about her father, his icebox of an office, the way he would tap his fingertips against his desk whenever he was annoyed. He used to sigh and lean back in his chair to look at her, used to rub his face with his hand like something pained him. You should be careful where you throw your sympathy, Weiss, he’d say. You know, the world just beneath you is crueler than you can imagine. Waiting to tear you apart. You understand? Here, he would lean forward again, stroke his pale mustache, his listless, beady eyes fixing to her. Like wolves.

Even someone like that, Weiss figured, her eyes returning to Pyrrha just for a moment before they slipped closed. Even someone who smiled gently at you could bare fangs when the time came. Weiss couldn’t quite remember the dream she had when she drifted off, but she recalled this, at least: her own ragged voice, the strange, wet pressure of teeth, powerful jaws closing shut around her throat. And then there was just silence.

By the time Weiss stirred awake again, the view outside the window was dark with dusk. “Sleep well?” Pyrrha folded her book over her thumb. “The train’s made a stop in Ajisai.”

Weiss lifted her head. She could feel the red mark the glass had left on her cheek. Actually, she could feel Pyrrha politely holding in a remark over it, as well. People pressed around each other down the aisle, milled around on the platform below.

“I slept fine. I guess.” She took a mug of something warm from Pyrrha—coffee, she realized, once she brought it to her nose. She pressed her palms around it. “Thanks. Um, and you? Did you sleep?”

Pyrrha set her book aside in the empty seat. Weiss was faintly surprised by its cover for a moment—fairytales. She had a vague memory of her mother reading stories like that to her once or twice as a child. That was a long time ago, of course, but the one she still remembered well was The Girl in the Tower. Which, admittedly, seemed a bit uninspired to her now.

“Hm…a little.”

“Is that the truth?”

Pyrrha paused and then chuckled, a little self-consciously. “Well, all things considered,”—she nodded her head to Weiss’s coat pocket, then up at the rifle hidden in the overhead—“I thought it best if there was someone to keep an eye out.”

Weiss frowned, dragging her knees up to her chest. She curled her hand around the vial in her pocket again. It’d become a small force of habit (or was it a nervous tick?) at some point without her realizing it. “That wasn’t necessary. You need your rest, too.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry—”

“It’s not that I am,” she interrupted, drawing the heavy coat tighter around herself. “Worrying about you, I mean. You’re just no good to me exhausted.”

Pyrrha fell quiet, those shrewd eyes of hers, green as the jade you found all over Anima, softening for a reason Weiss couldn’t quite decipher. “Right,” she said. “I’ll try to get some hours in, then.”

Despite herself, Weiss squirmed slightly under that change in expression. “I can take care of myself just fine, you know.”

Well, in theory she could. Granted that fencing maneuvers were transferrable to, say, scrapes with Atlesian soldiers or Mistralian bounty hunters. Granted the gleaming rapier she’d stolen from her father’s study on her way out wasn’t just decoration, after all.

Pyrrha folded her arms, and for a moment, Weiss thought she’d make some remark, something doubtful—haven’t you lived your whole life being taken care of?

But then she nodded and murmured, “I can see that.”

#schnee week #schneek #rwby #schneekos #fic #pearl of atlas #PoA isn't as cool as HoM this is tragic 😭#day 3: weiss multiship #weiss schnee #pyrrha nikos #fic preview #snippet

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saiilorstars · 4 years ago

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Ch.4: The Mind Intruder

Chapter summary: The mind is a very tricky thing but Mamoru seems to have the right abilities to get in.

Fandom: Sailor Moon (Crystal) – – [Rewrite of season 2, AU-ish in that there’s new OCs and the fusion of plots from the manga, crystal and the og series]

Pairings: Eventual OFC x OMC, Usagi x Mamoru

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles

{If you’d like to be added to this OC’s taglist, let me know!}

// Story Masterlist //

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

"Miss Keena?"

"Hm?" Azula looked up to find her teacher, Miss Nano, standing impatiently in front of her desk.

Azula sheepishly hid her notes with an arm and watched as her teacher put down her last math exam. She nearly fell out of her seat when she saw the ugly red '30' at the top of the paper. "WHAT!?" she picked up the paper and nearly crushed it against her face from how close she looked at it.

Miss Nano went on to continue handing out the class exams back. Azula kept blinking as if the grade would go away in one of those. This had to be a mistake!

"Miss Nano, please!" she trailed after the tall blonde teacher around the classroom after school, begging for a second review of the exam. "I don't know what happened…" Well, actually she did know. She had been focusing on Sailor Hemera, Senka and the Shadow Crystal mystery…but Miss Nano didn't need to know about that. "I know I can do better!" Azula followed the teacher towards the door and quickly scurried outside first to block Miss Nano's way.

"Well you really should have," Miss Nano said like she really lamented having to grade the exam. She knew Azula to be a well studied student and couldn't understand what happened. "I expected better than this. I thought you understood the material-"

"-but I did!" Azula exclaimed, though she stuttered to give a reason on her poor work. "I-I just h-had a, um, a th-thing that I had to do that, um-" she gasped when the teacher returned to her classroom and shut the door. Azula blinked and stared down at her exam that really seemed to be burning her fingers the more she held it. "I don't get 30s!" she said just a tad loud for the passing students to hear.

"You got a 30? In Nano's class?"

This was truly the last thing she needed right now. She turned to Mamoru and violently pointed a finger at him, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't used to her usual behavior when she was upset."I don't need this right now from you!" she went up to the closed class door and continued to call for the teacher. "Miss Nano, please. The only way I'd get a 30 in my life is I was...dead!"

"Then I suppose you're the walking dead," Mamoru remarked smugly.

"Oh my God!" the red haired girl whirled around in his direction. "You're still here!?" Azula was very used to their old sibling-like relationship that the words and sarcasm just tumbled out of her mouth. It most certainly did not help that she was possibly at her worst moment right now.

"I was on my way out," Mamoru, surprisingly, remained calm and merely pointed at the doors at the end of the hallway. "But then I saw you shouting and I figured I'd like to see how this plays out. Heard Miss Nano can be difficult."

"You're not funny, and I'm not laughing," Azula stood with a straight face.

With such a straight face it would be impossible to feel anything. But then again not everyone was a reincarnated Earth prince.

"Usagi, c'mon, this is simple math!" Azula rubbed her face in frustration. The blonde in question had let her head fall to the table, over her math book to be precise. "Get up, c'mon!" Azula gently hit Usagi's foot with her own under the table.

Usagi slowly raised her head off the book. "Why do I need to know this again?" She was startled when Mamoru lowered himself beside her, having just entered the cafe. He put an affectionate hand on Usagi's back.

"So that business people like her-" he shot Azula a look, "-don't take advantage of you."

A sarcastic smile spread across Azula's face. They always joked Azula would end up taking over her family's business, except she didn't find it amusing. "You're not funny, and I'm not laughing."

Azula recognized that remembering face on Mamoru's face and was tempted to slip away before he came back to the present. Besides, Miss Nano would have to see her tomorrow anyways. But just as she turned away, he called out to her.

Crap! she thought with eyes shut before she turned back. "Yes?"

"Th-the blonde girl who was...who was with you the other day…?" Azula was sure that not even he knew what he wanted to say. It looked like he was still trying to process whatever he saw.

He probably means Usagi. She's the only blonde I know. And Azula severely doubted he meant Minako. Though that would make it easier...

"What was her name?" his question pulled her back to the present.

Azula cleared her throat and whispered the answer so low it almost seemed as if she didn't want to answer. "Usagi…"

"Have you ever tutored her at the Fruits Parlor Crown?" Mamoru seemed afraid to even ask the question.

"W-well, yeah…" Azula wasn't sure what the hell was going on but she knew he was starting to remember things. She had tutored Usagi on several occasions on her math in that cafe and many times Mamoru had come in to see how things were doing. Azula thought it was more to distract than to help. Usagi was all for distractions.

"Okay, I-I…" Mamoru rubbed his face, frustrated with himself. What the hell was he doing? Was he really asking a random girl about another random girl?

"Are you okay?" Azula felt the need to go check up on him. Whatever was happening to him she was sure wasn't meant to be happening. She walked up to him and reached to touch his arm. As soon as she did they both saw something.

"Here," Azula set a pink milkshake in front of Usagi and sat down right across from her. "It's exactly what Mamoru would order for you right?"

Usagi whimpered and buried her face in her hands. Azula sighed when she heard the small sniffles.

"If it's not right then I can ask Unazuki for something else, or…" but Azula trailed off knowing this wasn't the problem. She rubbed her forehead and stared at Usagi for a moment in silence before speaking up. "Look, Beryl might have taken Mamoru but he will come back, alright?"

"How do you know?" Usagi lowered her hands for a second, her sparkly blue eyes now red and glossy. "I couldn't save him…"

"Give yourself a break, Usagi, you just realized who you were in a previous life. You're not God. But you are a fighter and even though you spend half your days crying over something as petty as a broken cup, when the going gets tough...I have confidence you get tougher."

"You think I can be strong?" Usagi's lip quivered, doubt etched all over her face.

"Mamoru does," Azula said softly. "And though I like to purposely disagree with him just to annoy him, in this case he's actually right. You are a strong girl and I know you will get through this."

Azula gasped deeply and pulled her hand off Mamoru's arm, the latter quite stunned by what they saw.

"How did I…?" but he didn't get to finish the question because Azula began to back away, and fast.

"I-I have to g-go!"

"Wait!" Mamoru called in vain. Azula was gone in a flash and all he was left with were strange feelings and new images in his mind.

~ 0 ~

"No you don't understand - he was in my mind!" Azula flopped on a park bench. Luna and Artemis hopped the bench and each rested on one side of the girl. "I-I felt him actually in my mind! I didn't even know he could do that!"

"Well, Mamoru isn't a Sailor Scout but he was the guardian of Earth and thus given powers he might not have developed yet," Luna said, rather reasonably and calm too. It was nothing to how Azula was reacting.

"He's remembering," she said, truly destroyed just by the thought. "You two said they wouldn't remember anything."

"Minako and the girls remain the same…" Artemis said thoughtfully, "...but none of them have the psychometric abilities that Mamoru does. Rei does, in a sense, but she's another story-"

"Not helping, Artemis," Azula cut him off. "So you think because of Mamoru's powers he'll be more likely to remember?"

"He's connected to the Earth because of who he was in the past and so by extension he's connected to everyone on the planet. This memory wipe works best on humans, specifically…" Luna trailed off, leaving Azula to make her own conclusion.

"Sailor Scouts," Azula finished with a small sigh. "So, basically, because Mamoru was the prince of Earth back then he's more likely to figure things out. That's just...great," she gritted her teeth together.

Luna affectionately pawed at Azula's uniform coat. "Don't fret, Azula, please. You are taking this far too serious-"

"Luna you don't understand," Azula calmed somewhat. A despondence slowly took over her facial features. "Back when Sailor Moon and the Scouts were active my only job was to look at the perimeters, stay on the computers...I couldn't help them out there. When they went off to fight Beryl and Metaria I had to stay here and just...wait. My job was to literally wait and see if they would come back alive."

"That wasn't your fault. You would have put yourself in grave danger if you accompanied Sailor Moon and the others…"

"It doesn't make me feel any better," Azula said glumly. "I was useless to them. I thought - I thought that now since everyone lost their memories and Usagi wanted to be normal...that this could be my job now. I would make sure they were all normal and safe. It's stupid, I know, but...it was my job this time to protect them." Azula paused for a full minute, her sadness overflowing. "But now Mamoru is beginning to remember and...now there's a Sailor Hemera and a stupid shadow hellbent on getting a crystal no one knows about."

"Azula," Artemis hopped off the bench and turned to look up at the girl, "Luna and I can keep an eye on the girls and certainly on Mamoru, but you can start to live your normal life as well. You shouldn't burden yourself with problems that we can solve. You just live a normal life..."

Azula snorted at the idea. "Normal? I'm at the park talking to cats - yeah, that's normal."

"Azula-" Luna began but Azula had gotten overwhelmed and rushed away.

"I'm going to go check on Minako," Artemis said after a couple of seconds. "And maybe we should patrol the other girls tonight just to see if any of them are remembering anything too."

Luna acknowledged his idea but preferred to stay back a little while longer. It was crazy to think that even now things still hadn't gone back to normal. Usagi was living her life as she wanted but outside of her blissful bubble things were beginning to get worse again. This time there were no Sailor Scouts to defend the planet from the evil trying to find the Shadow Crystal. Sure there was a Sailor Hemera but they still didn't know who she was and what her intentions were. Luna didn't know whether to feel grateful that Mamoru was remembering little by little because then that would mean he would be able to help a little...or should she be further concerned because now a second person had managed to avoid the memory wipe - it was still a grand mystery how Azula did it first.

Luna thought about this as she hopped off the bench and started her way back to Usagi's home. Usagi had been questioning lately where her dear old cat kept wandering off to and Luna didn't want to jeopardize her close position with Usagi. It was simply a challenge having to act like a true Earth cat all the time. It was why she often found Azula to keep conversation and her personal mind stimulated besides Artemis.

As Luna went off, a tall girl with long, brown and straight hair walked up to the bench where Azula and Luna had been. Her dark brown eyes glimmered golden for a second. "So you know where the Prince is…?" a smirk tugged at her pink lips.

~0~

Azula shivered as cold wind drew into her room from the open window. She went over and closed it then turned back. There were various newspaper clippings on the grounds with her own notes attached to it. Sailor Hemera and Senka needed to be stopped at all costs. Azula felt like she didn't have the luxury to get emotional. She took a seat on the floor, in the middle of the papers, and began sifting through them to reread what she already knew.

One hour later, her step-sister Keiko opened the door. "Hey, Azula, dinner's read - woah," her green eyes landed over the mess of papers around Azula. "What are you doing?"

"Homework," Azula supplied the excuse quick as she reached for another clipping.

Keiko caught site of some of the headlines and made a small whistler. "About that weird cloud thing and the Scout? What class is this for?"

"Communication - uh, intro to communications," Azula glanced at her sister with a small smile. "Journalism might be fun."

"Though you always wanted to work in something related to space, or something...?" Keiko left the door open so Azula could follow her out. "Sorry, you talk a lot sometimes and I tune it out so-"

"-Dad?" Azula blinked at the sight of her father already sitting at the kitchen table. "What are you doing here?" he was usually tied up with the business that he was rarely home for family meals. Kaito Keena was a man of business, and since he owned the Game Center Crown which was very popular in the neighborhood...he had a lot to do.

"I live here, remember?" came the black haired man's answer. His sarcasm made her playfully roll her eyes. "I'm also the one who pays the rent, so..."

"Okay, okay, I get it," Azula took her usual seat at the other end of the table. "I just didn't hear you come in, that's all."

"You never hear anything when you get into your work," Keiko pointed out.

"Oh, a lot of homework tonight?" Kaito asked.

Before Azula could answer, Keiko cut in with what she'd seen. "She was looking into that creature and the mysterious Sailor Scout who've been making appearances around the city."

Kaito's eyebrows shot upwards, making Azula dread what he would say about it. "Really? Well, makes sense since you always talk about the galaxies and whatnot. You think they're aliens, then?"

"Um..." Azula cleared her throat and put both her hands on the table. "I mean, the Scout looks humanoid. But that shadow thing probably is."

"Oh, but you know what I learned today?" Keiko excitedly asked. "It's actually funny what they name themselves. Hemera is a Goddess of day and light while Senka means 'shadow'. Can you believe that?"

"No, I...I hadn't considered the etymology of the names," Azula blinked rapidly.

"I just wonder where these aliens come from," Keiko went on, "And I'd definitely would love to know what a Shadow Crystal was."

"Yeah, that would be nice," Kaito agreed. "It would certainly help get the two out of the city before anyone gets killed."

"I should have asked that cute little fortune teller at the shrine…" Keiko said wistfully.

Azula raised an eyebrow. "What fortune teller?"

"Oh from the local shrine," Keiko leaned away from the door. "What was her name? Hino Rei? I went in to ask whether or not I'd get the school secretary job I applied to a couple days ago."

Azula blinked. Rei. How could she forget about Rei and her mind abilities? Mamoru wasn't the only one with mind tricks - Rei could sense danger! Sure Rei's mind was cleared of anything Scout-wise but her ability had come way before she awoke as Sailor Mars.

It was a stretch, but Azula would take it.

#ocappreciation #fd: sailor moon #sailor moon #sailor moon crystal #sailor moon fics #sailor moon imagines #sailor moon crystal fics #oc: azula keena #fic: reign from the shadows

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gay-jesus-probably · 5 years ago

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What's up fam does anyone want to hear my new theories on Paranatural JUST KIDDING YOU'RE GETTING THEM ANYWAYS

Okay so first things first: of all the medium's we've met so far, I think that Isaac and Johnny are the only normal ones. And also maybe Walker? Cause during the flashback at the start of Chapter 7 he uses his mute powers with his bare hands, and doesn't seem to use a tool to fight. It'd explain why his flashback aesthetic is so aggressively 70's even though the flashback is set in the early 00's and his usual style is 'cowboy' - makes sense if his flashback look is a symptom of possession.

...That's not the point. Flashback Walker being a medium is completely unrelated to this.

Anyways.

When Possessed Max was threatening Doorman in ch 3, the Doorman immediately identified it as 'a broken god'. Given that the spirit mentions it "didn't end up with the sense of humor", the broken part is probably very literal. Then later on while talking with Nin, Doorman says that Max is "unaware that he carries one of the s-". While the last word is cut off, my guess is it's the start of a number, and refers to how many pieces the Broken God is in.

So that leaves us with three major questions: 1. What is the Broken God and why is it broken? 2. Where are the fragments? 3. What do they want?

Under the read more, because this is 3k words and I’m not an animal.

What is the Broken God, and why is it broken?

While it was whole, the Broken God was a terrifyingly powerful entity with apocalyptic levels of power. It might have been a spirit all along, or it could have started as something else entirely. If that's the case, then the act of breaking might have 'killed' it, turning the fragments into spirits. Whether it was originally a spirit or not, it couldn't be destroyed completely, but being shattered left the fragments weakened and gave the rest of the world a chance against it. It's possible that it hadn't done anything to warrant being attacked, and it was just shattered out of fear of what something that powerful might do, but I think it's more likely it was a very active threat that needed to be brought down.

So who broke it?

Ron Swanson; it burned his hand so he punched it

Bad jokes aside, I think something that powerful would push the Godzilla threshold enough to make a lot of groups put aside their differences to bring it down. Judging by what we've heard about them so far, I assume that early versions of the Cousinhood of Man and Paranatural Activity Consortium were involved. The two organizations might have actually been founded in response to the crisis, or were originally a single group that had a schism after. I don't think it was just them, but I do think the Cousinhood and Consortium were major players in the whole mess.

Which brings us to...

Where are the fragments?

I can't say for sure how many pieces it's in, but judging by the Doorman's comment, my guess is it's a number that starts with S. That's a lot of options, but I'm guessing six or seven, because any higher numbers that start with an S would just be ridiculous - six or seven is manageable, but double digits or higher is way too much to keep track of, the story would never be able to give all of them the focus they deserve.

So we've got six or seven fragments of a broken god. Where are they?

Fragment One: Possessing Max, which is the only thing currently confirmed by canon. This is a very recent development, as Max isn't showing any physical symptoms, was able to cross the barrier to enter Mayview, and his spectral abilities didn't kick in until his first day of school. Given that Johnny starts seeing shades roughly twelve hours after his possession, that implies that Max was possessed the day he moved into Mayview.

I think Max's fragment was stuck outside of Mayview, and looking to get in. It came across the Puckett's heading towards Mayview, and hitched a ride by possessing Max. This is backed up by the fact that Max began to awaken as a spectral before having noticeably interacted with anything supernatural - on his first night, Max could hear Hissin' Pete, saw PJ as a shade, and PJ was able to physically interact with him. If we compare that to the timeline of Johnny being possessed around midnight and seeing his first shade by lunchtime the next day, Max would have been possessed at some point in the late morning of the day he moved to Mayview.

Max's fragment is not Scrapdragon. I think that Max is a little like Mr. Spender, in that he's a medium whose also wielding a tool. Max's fragment is very chatty, revealing itself to the Doorman with no prompting, speaking in long, eloquent sentences, and even talks at Isaac about the concept of school buses and his own morality. On the other hand, Scrapdragon's communicated only in angry screeching so far. Also, Scrapdragon is obviously the source of Max's magnet powers, and he can only channel them through the baseball bat that Scrapdragon's possessing. I don't think Scrapdragon likes the fragment either - despite being a grudge, it seems fairly neutral towards Max, and only gets angry when he accidentally hits it. I don't know if Scrapdragon is trying to oppose the fragment the same way Lucifer fights the Shadow, but I don't think Scrapdragon wants to hurt Max, and it might end up helping him.

Fragment Two: Alright so now we're getting into speculative territory. I'm not numbering these by order of introduction btw, from here on out I'm looking at this via connections.

Boss Leader is possessed by a wight that the Consortium's been studying for a very long time, and is fairly non-hostile. Although it can't communicate clearly, it can express its emotions to BL, and she seems to have a lot of trust in it. Despite Boss Leader's shenanigans, it's been repeatedly shown that she takes the safety of spectral kids very seriously - if she thought there was any chance her wight would be dangerous, she never would have introduced it to two teenagers and a toddler, especially not just to explain the concept of a wight. This is also backed up by the wight's actions during that conversation - it's clearly paying attention, but it doesn't show any hostility, and the only thing it says is "PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED". Hell, it even seems to be a little disappointed that nobody reacts to the wight/white pun.

Despite this, I believe that Sandman is a fragment of the broken god. Not so much because of how it acts, but because of its connection to other possible pieces.

Fragment Three: Dr. Gwen Burger and her husband got stuck inside the prison of an unknown Wight. It was imprisoned by the Consortium before the current Boss Leader took power, it's lonely, dangerous, and really wants out. If it escapes, the results probably won't be pretty, time works differently in its prison, and its dream is connected to Gwen's. I think that Gwen might be its medium, given how warped her appearance is in the dream world, and that the wights prison relies on it being bound to a medium.

Gwen's wight is seemingly hostile, given that it attacks the group at the first opportunity, but what it wants is hard to say - its only line so far is "LOOK AT ME", and it may have been responsible for the demise of Gwen's husband. It also looks very similar to Sandman, implying a connection between them. Given that it's already been established that a Broken God is out there, it only makes sense for Sandman and Gwen's wight to be more fragments.

And more importantly, they're both very clearly connected to another powerful spirit.

Fragment Four: The Shadow, which has been possessing Richard Spender for at least thirteen years now. It's obviously powerful, given how much it scares Spender and Lucifer, and how being its medium has affected Spender's reputation. Given how he reacts to Forge saying he 'defeated the strongest spirit', that likely refers to Mr. Spender's past experience with the Shadow, and the circumstances that led to his possession.

Apart from its power, the main reason I think the Shadow is a fragment of the Broken God is because of its connections to Sandman and Gwen's wight. With Sandman, they look incredibly similar - the Shadow's face resembles a sun and is noticeably missing an eye, while Sandman's face resembles a crescent moon, and its only clear feature is a single eye. This suggests that Sandman and the Shadow are directly related to each other. As for Gwen's wight, it's connection to the Shadow is made clear by Rick's reaction to being attacked by it - while everyone else reacts, Rick freezes up and starts shaking in terror, either recognizing it as being similar to the Shadow, or having a flashback to his obviously traumatic possession. Probably both.

There's also the reactions of Sandman and Gwen's wight. When the group is attacked by Gwen's wight, the framing of the scene heavily implies that it's reaching out to grab Spender - Boss Leader and Walker are moving to defend the others, Gwen's almost completely hidden behind Walker, Mina's reflexively shielding Rick and Ed, Ed's hidden behind Walker and Mina... and Rick is perfectly centered at the back of the group. Furthermore, the way the wight attack contrasts to Rick's flashback heavily implies that it's reaching for him specifically. Meanwhile when the kids are introduced to Sandman, while it's kinda hard to track its line of sight, it seems like it might be staring at Rick the whole time. What the two wights say could also be interpreted as them speaking directly to Rick - Gwen's wight wants him to look at it, while Sandman begs him not be scared. If the two wights are fragments of the Broken God, they might be able to recognize that Rick is the medium of another one, and react accordingly. Gwen's wight wants him look at it, possibly realizing that he's frozen in terror and wanting to keep him that way so that he's an easy target. Sandman also realizes that Rick is traumatized and keeps its distance, asking Rick not to be afraid, as it doesn't want to hurt him. The point is, the Shadow, Sandman, and Gwen's wight are obviously connected to each other, and the most likely reason is all three are fragments of the Broken God.

I believe the Shadow was imprisoned at the bottom of Mayview Lake, though not by the Consortium. Thirteen years before Max came to Mayview, its prison was somehow broken by group that wanted to free the Broken God, though they were widely disorganized. Somehow a young Rick Spender wound up in the lake as the Shadow got free, and it pulled him under before possessing him. Given that Spender dying would free the Shadow, it's possible that the Shadow needed to possess a medium to escape its prison, and was trying to drown Rick right away to free itself. Lucifer intervened, pulling Rick out of the lake, and the two of them have been imprisoning the Shadow in Mr. Spender ever since.

Fragment Five: The Angel of Mayview.

Yeah, I know, she's definitely an enemy of Max's fragment and seemingly means well, but hear me out. When she speaks with Nin and Doorman, she pretty much immediately says she doesn't deserve to be called master. She also seems invested in Forge getting a second chance, not just to advance her goals, but also just for his own sake. These two details give me the impression that she's done some seriously bad things in the past, and is actively trying to make amends for it. Being part of the seemingly evil Broken God would qualify.

My other evidence is what Max's fragment says in Chapter 3. It specifically says that it "didn't end up with the sense of humor", implying that it's unable to find things funny. And right after that, the fragment and Doorman have this exchange: Doorman: Your return changes nothing, schemer. My master does not fear broken gods. Fragment: She should. Would if she could. The comedy your ignorance breeds is wasted on my ears.

This suggests that the Angel isn't scared because she can't be scared. Like she didn't get the ability to fear things, because another fragment has it. Max's fragment also suggests that it knows more about the Angel than Doorman does, and that considering her an enemy of the Broken God is ridiculous. All of this heavily implies that the Angel herself is another fragment.

Fragments Six and Seven: At this point I'm mostly out of obvious suspects. There's really only two major players unaccounted for, and while I do think both are fragments, I think they might both be fragments I've already discussed.

The great power that sleeps in Mayview is heavily implied to be a Big Deal. That being said, I think we've seen it already - who do we know that's a suspected medium for a fragment of the Broken God, and is permanently asleep? Yeah, I think the sleeping power is referring to Boss Leader. Her physical body is comatose, making her completely defenseless in the real world, and if Sandman is a fragment, Boss Leader is obviously very powerful. If Boss Leader's real body is in Mayview, then she's definitely the sleeping power.

Alternatively, it might be referring to the Shadow being imprisoned in Mayview Lake. Forge hasn't been in Mayview in a long time, so it makes sense that he wouldn't know the great power he's seeking was released over a decade ago. His attempt to command the pixelhounds also makes it clear that he's not above using evil methods to try and do what he thinks is right, so it'd make sense that he'd be willing to try and take control of it to help the Angel. It'd also explain why Mr. Spender starts laughing when he hears that, despite the fact that he's literally being tortured - Forge doesn't realize that the power he's looking for is right there. Mr. Spender also calls Forge misinformed right after that, suggesting that he knows what the sleeping power really is. Could be that he knows it's Boss Leader, but it could also mean he knows it's him. Either way, Forge is looking in the wrong place, and Mr. Spender knows it.

As for the other unexplained mystery, we have Penny Spender and her white spectral energy. That's a trait unique to wights and their mediums, which suggests that Penny is the medium of a wight. And given that all wights seen so far are probably fragments of the Broken God, it's likely that her wight is as well... but I think her wight is the Angel. We know fragments can speak through their mediums if they want, and the Angel hasn't made any personal appearances yet, only speaking over the phone. And the reactions of Nin and Doorman imply that's normal for her. Penny's obviously hiding that she's a spectral, so the Angel might be hiding that she has a medium to protect them both. As for why the Angel is possessing Penny, well Richard and Penny are obviously siblings, and Rick first got possessed when he was thirteen. If Penny doesn't know there's something horribly wrong with her brother, I'd be very surprised. I imagine we'll find out more about her, but whether or not Penny's possessed by the Angel, I think she's somewhat aware of her brothers situation and is trying to save him. Whatever her situation is, I'm looking forward to seeing more of Penny Spender, and I really hope she appears at some point in Chapter 7.

So now that we've got a rough idea of where the fragments are and why, that brings us to our final question.

What do they want?

I don't think they all have the same goals. Max's fragment saying it didn't end up with the sense of humor is an extremely informative sentence if you think about it - it means that the different fragments got different aspects of the Broken God's personality, and therefor will want different things.

The Angel and Sandman both seem to be non-hostile (for now at least), and the Angel is actively opposing other fragments. She also seems to be trying to make amends for the Broken God's actions, and feels deep shame over her past, leading me to believe that the Angel has the Broken God's remorse. The other pieces don't feel bad about what they've done because they can't. Likewise, I think Sandman might have inherited its fear, as it almost looks like it's trying to hide itself under blankets, and putting its medium's in a coma allows it to hide from the waking world.

Given their actions, I think the Angel and Sandman are against the Broken God's original goals, and are fairly benevolent. They do not want to become whole again.

Meanwhile, the Shadow, Gwen's wight, and Max's fragment all seem to be hostile. I believe Gwen's wight definitely wants to rejoin with other fragments, given that it seemingly tries to grab Rick. Max's fragment is harder to judge; it's definitely opposed to the Angel, but the Doorman's words imply that it's not really a powerhouse like the others. Max's fragment is the manipulator, the schemer - not the fighter. If it's the weakest of the bunch, it makes sense that it would want to become whole again. As for the Shadow, given that it's first move upon getting free is to attack Max and Isabel, it's definitely an active problem. The fact that it's indirectly described as 'the strongest spirit' implies that it got the most raw power out of all the fragments. I don't have any evidence that it wants to become whole again, but something about it gives me the feeling that it does. Here's hoping Mr. Spender realizes Max is possessed before either of their fragments makes a move. And no, I don’t think the Shadow realizes Max has another fragment yet; he’s still in the early stage of possession, so I think the only way for Max’s fragment to get caught is if it exposes itself. But Max’s fragment definitely knows where the Shadow is after chapter 4, so that’s bound to turn into a nightmare at some point.

Also on a probably unrelated note, the Shadow is a spirit of darkness that chooses to look like a sun, and if you look closely at Rick's memory getting possessed, you can see the Shadow had a massive slasher smile as it reached up to grab him. So uh... I think I know which fragment got the sense of humor.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, I look forward to being proved wrong about all of this. But I also kinda really hope I’m right. Either way, if anyone writes fanfic using my theories, I will love you forever.

#paranatural #rick spender #maxwell puckett #boss leader #gwen burger

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devondeal · 4 years ago

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Shadow of the Past

Ch. 1

What if Plo Koon hadn't made it in time to to save baby Ahsoka from the slaver? What if the slaver was an agent of Palpatine to collect force sensitive children for the nefarious purpose of being raised in the first inquisitor cult to prepare for the future imperial regime?

Barriss and Ahsoka are together post Order 66 working for the rebellion until something rips through the fabric of time preventing Plo Koon from ever bringing Ahsoka to the Jedi.

Barriss finds herself in a universe almost identical to her own post Order 66 but she has lost Ahsoka.

Everyone she talks to says they dont know who Ahsoka is and it's driving her mad. And for some reason, they have no memory of Barriss's bombing on the temple. Instead she is an early rebellion leader. And to top it all off, the rebellion isn't fighting. How can they when there's already a war?

Bail Organa, surprised at her lapse of memory informed Barriss that Maul was the leader of Mandalore and was fighting the Empire. In a Sith war, there's little the rebellion can do except help the survivors and distribute food and supplies to those on both sides suffering shortages from the war. Nothing makes sense. All Barriss wants to do is find Ahsoka and get out of this nightmare.

She searches for Ahsoka with little luck since her name isnt registered anywhere but little does she know, Ahsoka is tracking her for a very different reason...

Barriss lands on a moon when her latest lead dries up. She had found a Tano but it wasn't Ahsoka. Frustrated she hoped meditation would center herself.

In the darkness of the cave Barriss is meditating in, she senses a strange presence. Both familar and a stranger. She opens her eyes and sees the silhouette of Ahsoka

Barriss: Ahsoka?

Ahsoka: Who's Ahsoka? Another Jedi friend? Or perhaps just a rebel collaborater?

It sounds exactly like her but with a slow sinister drawl Ahsoka has never used. Barriss had a bad feeling about this but she stayed hopeful.

Barriss: Don't you recognize me?

Ahsoka: Recognize you? I've studied you. Your tactics, your lightsaber style, your force healing... your rebel activities. You've been my little project for a number years but I've never been able to find you... until now.

A double bladed red lightsaber ignites lighting Ahsoka's face confirming that it is indeed her. But her eyes were yellow.

Barriss: No. No this isn't real. It can't be.

Ahsoka was disappointed that her target appeared to have lost her mind. Barriss Offee, the famed rebel Jedi knight was to be her kill and she wanted it to be a noble kill. Ah well, guess she could always omit that part out of the report.

Ahsoka: Better defend yourself Jedi. I don't like killing helpless bugs. Takes away the sport.

Barriss: Ahsoka, I don't understand what's happening but I promised myself I would never lift my blade against you again.

Ahsoka: Again? You really have lost your mind! I must say I'm disappointed. Here I was, expecting the duel of a lifetime.

Barriss: Ahsoka...

Ahsoka: That is NOT my name! I am 4th sister. If you won't defend yourself, prepare to die Barriss Offee.

Ahsoka's attack is sloppy. Barriss easily evades her. The Ahsoka she knows would never have been so disorganized with an attack so straightforward. Ahsoka became so frustrated with the evasions that she turned on the spinning mode of the uniform inquisitor saber. Barriss would have rolled her eyes if her heart wasn't breaking.

How could this happen? Ahsoka had just proposed to her the night before. The next morning Ahsoka wasn't there. And now that she finds her, it's this... person she doesnt even know. Badly trained too. Almost like someone was afraid of her potential.

Barriss disarms Ahsoka with a simple force push destroying the saber against the cave wall.

Barriss: It seems inquisitors are the same no matter what insane reality I'm in.

Despite bad inquisitor training, Ahsoka's instincts were still sharp and Barriss didn't predict that Ahsoka would use the force to grab her own blue saber. Barriss jumped backward in time but got a lightly grazed on her side which would leave lightsaber burns on her skin. For a moment, Ahsoka, fierce with the heat of battle and a blue lightsaber looked so much more like herself... if she werent trying to kill her that is.

She had an idea though it pained her.

Barriss: Ahsoka, please. You know me, deep down, I have to believe that. And I know you. Whatever this nightmare is, we can fix this together.

Ahsoka: Stop calling me that!!!

Again Barriss evades her attack but this time, she has a syringe in her hand with enough seditive to knock her out for a good few hours. She only hoped this version of Ahsoka didnt have her fear of needles.

She yelped, then slashed the lightsaber carelessly and dropped like a rock.

Barriss began to shake. She knocked out Ahsoka. Even if she avoided using her lightsaber, it still felt horrible. She fell to knees and let whatever emotions needed to be let out. She couldn't let this Ahsoka see her like this. If she's going to get through to her, it would have to be through logic. In this place, Ahsoka had no idea who she was so emotions wouldn't work. She carried Ahsoka to her ship trying to ignore how thin she was. She needed to get them back to their own reality somehow.

#barrissoka #barrisoka #barriss offee #ahsoka tano

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tarithenurse · 4 years ago

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Nightingale - 32

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Fluff, pining, hopes, powerlessness, feels, sadness, plotting of various kind. A/N: As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag! HUUUGE thanks to all who are reblogging already <3

Ch. 32

For a moment, it’s possible to see the old man’s arm stretch out to hand over the cup reflected in the metal of a headband. Kakashi’s trying his best not to stare at the object on the low table while the Hokage pours tea and talks (at length) about the Flame of Konoha, what it means to protect the people living in the Village.

“She did well,” the Third smiles crookedly, “to the point that I wonder...?”

The jōnin wait a moment before prompting an end to the sentence, “...wonder...what?”

“You are skilled and, judging by your team’s progress, capable of guiding others to learn.” It’s not exactly an explanation, but this time it doesn’t take any nudging. “It may be part of why she chose you over everyone else to begin with when she needed to earn our trust...the result is visible but now very few know her as well as you do.”

Is it going to cost her the chance of becoming a shinobi of Konoha? Genins, like Team 7, spend time on simple missions not only to improve their skills but also to prove their worth in the eyes of comrades and civilians alike. Uguïsu hasn’t. In fact, this imitation of the chunin exams is the first opportunity for others to assess her abilities and personality – the few who really knew anything had been present at the trials, as Kakashi silently calls the hearing.

“I am inclined to allow her to earn the probationary rank of chunin on two conditions.” The old eyes hold no menace but unwavering determination as he studies the jōnin's features for any reactions. “She will assist Yamanaka and Morino at their discretion.”

The younger man nearly has to bite his tongue to ask calmly, “...and?”

“She will not partake in missions with you and Team 7 for the foreseeable future.”

It feels like a punch to the guts he’s seen coming a mile away without being able to avoid it. This is not my choice even if the decision hadn’t already been made. “She has already agreed to this...hasn’t she?”

“We have discussed various possibilities.”

...

Scattered clouds amble past the moon above when Kakashi leaves the Hokage.

One word had taken the other, adeptly navigated by the old man until the conversation flowed in the comfort of the past or danced among gossipy rumours and tall tales. Sarutobi senior had always been able to make his subordinates feel at ease, freely giving advice on various subjects without it sounding like a lecture.

And so...here we are. The young jōnin sighs, choosing to stick to the shadows as he walks, hands in pockets, without a clear goal. Tucked in behind the vest lies a headband, the metallic plate already warmed by the heat his body exudes. He could go to Uguïsu. Knock on her door and present her with the expected news...and most likely wake her up in the process, considering how deeply the woman had been sleeping last Kakashi saw her.

I could find Iruka. The teacher had invested a great deal of time and energy to assure the stray nightingale could feel comfortable while the academic voids were filled, so it only makes sense to let him know that the efforts have born fruit. Still, Kakashi’s feet keep on a different path.

Asuma, then? The bearded man is most likely not at home, but rather paying Kurenaï a visit. It would be a shame to impose.

The white-haired man is unsure what is holding him back until he enters the graveyard. The moonlight fleetingly makes the white stones glow in the night – row upon row of hauntingly identical slabs left as a constant reminder for generations to come of people long gone...and despite the similarities, one still stands out.

“Is it wrong of me?” he whispers, muffled by the mask, to Rin’s chiselled name, “I never quite understood what you felt...what you needed. Do I understand you now?”

They had been so young and Kakashi had only truly grown and matured after the loss of his teammates. But the grave is silent, giving no answers or signs if the girl would have been happy for him and there is nothing left to do but turn away and walk along the path to the one burial place that does stand out from the rest.

Tucked away in the furthest corner, the rough-hewn stone seems even darker than normal in the shadows of the tree. Kneeling down, Kakashi brushes away a few stray leaves that already have fallen as a precursor to the coming fall.

“You’d have liked her, wouldn’t you?” It might not be audible, but the taste of bitterness appears in the back of his throat. “Would you have invited her over? You always seemed...fond of those who didn’t quite conform.” Vivid memories of a young Gaï comes to mind, conjuring a smile. “Can you imagine? She’d spot all the exits and safe corners right away. If I -...” Kakashi hesitates, his eyes widening at a strange, new idea. “She wouldn’t feel as cramped there. If I showed her...I could show her and maybe she could...” Again, he falls silent as he struggles with whether to say it out loud. She could live there. Maybe...maybe we... “I’d have to clean first, father. No one's been in the house for years except for me when I stop by.” He rarely does: the place holds too many lonely thoughts. “I could clean it. The roof needs patching. And the garden! I’d have to tend to that, get rid of the weeds and then maybe I can ask Kurenaï what plants would be good...something easy, though, because I don’t want ‘Guïsu to feel obliged to keep the place. That’s not the point.”

Or maybe it’s too much? Kakashi promised not to pressure the shy woman and he’ll be damned if he breaks that oath no matter how rapidly his heart beats at the idea of maybe one day...some day...we’ll see.

Daydreams illuminated by soft, golden light are difficult to stow away, and the dark stone has warmed to his touch when he finally manages to return from the reverie.

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barrysjumpsuit · 5 years ago

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blindsided - barry’s sister x rafe cameron (ch. 3)

part one, part two, masterlist

word count: 3.5k

warnings: cannabis use, cocaine use, physical and verbal abuse, underage drinking, anxiety/depression, mentions of sex, the whole nine yards tbh

synposis: christy is a lifelong resident of the outer banks. after a series of hookups with rafe cameron, kook royalty, she’s smitten. what she doesn’t know is about what her boyfriend and brother are involved in behind her back

a/n: things are starting to get good... I’m super excited to write the rest of this! got some wild shit coming up. read this for SOFT RAFE. (side note, the necklace part is 100% a marie thing that i do and wear. i studied moon snail predation on clams so HMU if you wanna learn abt the ecology of the long island sound) (also in this house we stan naturdays)

----

Rafe had listened to Christy’s begging when she was saying she wanted to go to the Boneyard separately from Topper and Sarah. They slipped out before the others were done getting ready, but Christy still couldn’t bring herself to relax.

Her boyfriend was on edge too. They were silent as they drove south, Rafe eventually pulling off the road as they reached the trailer. Barry’s bike was gone from where it usually sat, and Christy was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

Rafe followed her into the trailer. It was weird seeing Rafe Cameron, so well put together, in her shithole of a home. He knew better to comment on the state of things, and he looked visibly uncomfortable.

“Come on and help me,” Christy said, grabbing his hand and leading him down the hall to her bedroom. She unlocked the door and pulled him inside before closing it. “You know how to pack cigarette joints?”

“Can’t be too hard,” he said. Christy pulled out a mason jar of bud from her last harvest, along with two paper plates she kept for this exact purpose.

“We’ll do all of them,” she said. “I have a couple already made.”

Christy sat down on the bed next to Rafe. Their knees touched, the jar between them. She busied herself grinding the nugs, picking out the stems while Rafe started emptying the cigarettes of their contents.

“You know,” Rafe said suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ve never smoked weed.”

“Really?” Christy asked. She was genuinely surprised. “Y’know, they say it’s the gateway drug, and…”

“Yeah, I went straight to the hard stuff,” Rafe said quietly. “It’s more of a… pogue thing.”

“What, so we’re stereotyping drugs now? I’ve seen you drink Natty Light. That’s as pogue as alcohol gets.”

“Naturdays!” Rafe protested.

“As if that makes it any different.” Christy grinned and tapped the grinder to the paper plate that sat in Rafe’s lap. “You want to try?”

Rafe nodded, and Christy looked up at him. There was something soft about him now, sitting in her bed in her shitty trailer. He hadn’t said anything about her living situation like he normally would. He hadn’t refused to help her.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Christy said quietly. He looked up at her, smiling softly. “We can wait until we’re there or until we leave. It’s up to you.”

“What will it feel like?” he asked.

“You really are clueless. We’ll wait until we’re away from the party, okay? This strain chills you the fuck out. It’s the only way I can sleep most nights.”

“Really?” he asked. “I didn’t know that. You always seem to fall asleep pretty easily.”

Christy bit her bottom lip before answering, focusing on twisting her grinder. “It’s because I feel comfortable with you.”

Rafe’s hand was suddenly cupping her cheek. He had moved the plate and his in-progress work to the bedspread and was leaning forward, perched on his knees. “Christy…” he murmured, his lips tantalizingly close to hers. “Really? You mean that?”

“Yes,” was all she could say. She could smell his breath, his deodorant, his cologne.

“You mean the world to me,” Rafe purred, moving his hand so it rested on the nape of her skull. “I love you so much. I’m glad we found each other.”

“Me too,” Christy whispered, and Rafe’s lips were on hers. They were gentle, patient, and tender. The kiss made her feel safe, reciprocating what she had just confessed to him.

Normally, Christy had a tough exterior. She was closed and blunt. People knew her for that, and even Barry commented on it. She didn’t know why Rafe of all people unlocked her as if he had a key, melting her heart and opening her up. It was true: she usually smoked herself to sleep every night. If she didn’t she would toss and turn into the early hours of the morning, and by then she would give up and go for a run or boat ride. Whenever she spent the night with Rafe, tucked into his bed and in his arms, her brain stopped worrying. It stopped running through endless scenarios, and she slept.

Rafe was the one to pull away. He smiled gently at her. Some of his hair fell over his eyes, so Christy reached up to tuck it back where it belonged. “I love you, Rafe Cameron.”

“I love you too, Christy,” he murmured back, kissing her once more on the forehead before sitting back down on the bed and picking up the paper plate again.

The two of them packed a cigarette carton full of joints in half an hour. Before they left, she pocketed her bowl, a couple baggies with nugs, and JJ’s five grams.

“This is a cute picture,” Rafe said as Christy stowed the last of the bud underneath her bed. They had used half of it prepping for the kegger. She looked up to the picture frame he was holding.

The photo was of her and Barry. They were younger – Christy was fifteen and Barry was nineteen – and on the boat. They were holding a fish, a huge striped bass they had hauled in on light tackle. A shadow was cast over a corner of the picture, and Christy’s heart twisted.

“You okay?” Rafe asked, and she just nodded. “What is it?”

“My mom took the picture,” Christy said quietly, taking the frame from him. “This was one of the last memories I have of her before she killed herself. Like a week later.”

“Oh baby…” Rafe put an arm around her, kissing the top of her head, and she leaned into him before putting the picture frame back on her dresser, face down.

“Let’s get out of here,” Christy suggested, and she gently pushed Rafe out of her bedroom. She turned and relocked the door before pocketing the keys and walking down the hall.

“Look who we have here! Rafe Cameron!”

Christy froze at Barry’s voice. Rafe’s hand tightened around hers, to a point where it was almost painful. Barry was sitting on the couch in front of the coffee table, and she could tell he just did a line.

“You just can’t stay away, can you, boy?” Barry said, standing and sauntering over to them. Christy tried to push Rafe behind her, but he refused to budge. “You fucking my sister again? We’re going to have words.”

“Barry, stop it!” Christy put her hands on Barry’s chest and shoved him, but he barely moved. “We’re together, okay? We were just stopping by to get some weed to sell.”

“You sure you don’t want anything else?” Barry asked, dangling a baggie of cocaine in front of Rafe’s face. Christy could tell he was bristling with anger and doing everything he could to restrain himself from swinging a fist. “Right here, Country Club. She’s got your name on it. I miss your business, you know.”

“Barry that’s enough!” Christy yelled, shoving herself between the two of them. “Rafe, let’s go.” She tugged on his hand, but Rafe remained rooted to the dirty carpet of the living room.

Rafe didn’t say anything. He and Barry stood, staring at each other, both of them seething with anger.

“I don’t want your fucking blow,” he finally said, turning, and storming from the trailer.

“You’ve got yourself a keeper there, Chris,” Barry said, swinging the baggie. “A real winner.”

“Fuck you, Barry!” Rafe yelled from the other side of the screen door.

“Go. Sell your weed and fuck your kook. Fuck your kook in his mansion, eat his food, sleep in his bed. And leave me here.”

Barry’s words followed her from the trailer. Rafe grabbed her and they hurried to the truck, getting in and peeling out of the yard.

Rafe was quiet, and Christy knew what that meant. He was pissed. Christy couldn’t help but press herself against the door, making herself small.

He didn’t pay much attention to her until a whimper made its way out of her mouth. She closed her eyes at the sound, knowing that Rafe looked over to her. “Oh, baby…” he said quietly. A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched.

Christy had seen Rafe angry before, plenty of times. He was the only person she had ever seen seriously take on her brother and make her fear for him.

“Just… leave me alone, Rafe,” she muttered.

“Christy, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Rafe, just be quiet, please.” She opened her eyes to look at him. He looked shocked, his mouth slightly open. Christy looked away before closing her eyes again.

She felt him pull the truck over to the side of the road. “Christy,” he said again, softer this time. “Hey. Come here.”

Rafe pulled up the center console and slid across the seat so that he could wrap his arms around her. Christy curled into him, trying to hold back tears but failing as Rafe’s fingertips started making lazy circles on her back.

She wasn’t sure what she was crying about. Barry’s words rattled her. The whole exchange did. She knew Barry’s words were true. Christy had left him when things got tough. But she knew she couldn’t totally blame herself. He wasn’t doing much to help his situation.

Rafe encountering Barry was something she didn’t want to happen. But it did, and it was bad, but not as bad as she thought it was. Maybe it was best for them to get their anger out before she was deeper in the relationship with Rafe, and before it was more of a secret. It was bound to happen at some point.

“I’m good,” she said, making a slight peace with her thoughts. Christy unburied her head from Rafe’s chest, rubbing makeup all over his face as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“You still want to go to that party?” Rafe asked, leaning his cheek on the top of her head.

“No,” she replied. “But I at least have to stop by. I’m selling someone some weed. It won’t take long.”

“Okay,” he said. Christy felt him press a tender kiss to the top of her head before sliding back over in the seat and pulling back onto the road.

The sun was about to set. As soon as Rafe parked near the Boneyard, Christy hopped out of his truck. She walked through the grasses and onto the beach, knowing exactly where JJ would be. He was manning the keg with John B, the hose in one hand, a beer in the other. Christy shoved through the crowd, consisting of mostly tourons, and slid up next to JJ.

“Follow me?” she asked, and he wordlessly handed the hose to John B.

“Hey, Christy, you okay?” JJ asked suddenly. Christy kept walking, but JJ continued. “You don’t look too good, dude.”

“Thanks for pointing that out,” she snapped at him. They were still too close to the crowd for her to feel comfortable doing a deal of anything larger than a couple blunts.

“I’m serious. Hey.” JJ reached out, grabbing her arm so that she faced him. “Is everything okay?”

She just sighed. “Want to smoke a joint with me?”

JJ was visibly confused, but he didn’t protest. They sat on a piece of driftwood, and Christy pulled out one of the cigarette joints she and Rafe had rolled earlier. She lit it, taking a few hits, before passing it to JJ. She waited a few minutes before speaking the first words.

“I don’t know what in the fuck I’m gonna do, JJ.”

She was surprised the words rolled out of her mouth like they did. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the walls crumbling in her brain, wanting to push her old life behind her.

“Care to elaborate?” JJ asked beside her.

“I’m dating Rafe Cameron,” she stated, knowing that JJ could put the pieces together.

“Oh,” he said, surprised, furrowing his brow. “I didn’t expect that.” Before Christy could say anything, JJ’s eyes stretched wide, and he looked at her. “Oh. Holy shit. Does your brother know?”

“We had our first encounter with him about an hour ago,” Christy replied, taking the joint back from JJ.

“I take it it didn’t go well?” he asked, and Christy shook her head.

“Nope,” she said, smoke coming out of her mouth. “Barry’s not having much business. Hasn’t been good ever since Rafe ghosted him. He won’t move his own product, he needs people to buy from him in bulk, which no one will do because Rafe told everyone he’s a crazy motherfucker. Right now it’s just a few close friends he has.”

“Agatha probably didn’t help, huh?” JJ asked, and Christy just shook her head. “If anyone can get through it, it’s you, Christy. You’re pogue through and through.”

“You don’t know me,” she said quietly, handing him the joint. Her eyelids were heavy and she pressed her palms into the smooth, soft surface of the driftwood.

“I know enough. Anyone to have been through as much shit as you can get away from that situation. It takes one to know one, Christy.”

She looked over at him. JJ was smiling softly, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Here’s your weed,” she said, pulling the baggie out of her pocket. “Same strain you’re smoking now. You can finish the joint, too.”

“Here’s your fifty,” JJ said, handing her two twenties and a ten. “Thanks for your business.”

“And for yours,” she said, standing. JJ laughed as she had to catch her balance.

“Hey Christy?” JJ called quietly as she turned to walk away.

“Yeah, JJ?”

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“You got it,” she said, turning away so JJ couldn’t see her smile. The two of them had always had a natural understanding of each other. It takes one to know one, as he said. It was true.

Christy trudged up the beach and back into Rafe’s waiting truck. “You good?” he asked, and Christy nodded.

“Let’s go get stoned.”

---

Christy woke up before Rafe did. He was rolled towards her, an arm draped around her waist with his mouth slightly open.

Rafe’s breath smelled of weed. She smiled to herself, remembering the events of the previous night. They had gone onto the Druthers, laying on the outside seats, and smoked. The strain Christy brought was her favorite indica. She usually smoked it before bed. It was the only thing that would shut her brain up.

“This is nice,” Rafe said after a few hits. His eyes were soft under his hooded lids. “I like it. I feel good.” They were laying next to each other, feeling the boat rock gently beneath them. She was laying on his chest while Rafe gently threaded his fingers through her hair, occasionally scratching her scalp.

Christy fell asleep like that. She only woke up once to Rafe carrying her down the dock; she murmured his name and tightened her grip as she felt him step onto the soft grass. He had to briefly put her down to open the door to the house, but he picked her up again and quietly ascended the stairs before pushing open his bedroom door and setting her down in his bed, sliding next to her and pulling the covers over them.

That’s where they were now. Rafe Cameron’s bed. His grey pillowcases smelled like him, like cedar and seawater. It was an odd combination, but she liked it.

Rafe had put her phone on the bed between them. The time read 5:32. Her shift started at 7, so Christy decided she could get away with a few more minutes of dozing. Her work apron was draped across a chair in Rafe’s room, and she could probably rewear the previous day’s clothes, which were piled on the floor next to it.

Christy’s stomach rolled at two missed calls from Barry. He wasn’t a texter. He was a caller. Christy was a talker, hating phone communication and opting to talk to people face to face. She willed herself to push the thought of what he had to say until she would go home after her shift that afternoon.

Rafe was still asleep by the time she left for work at 6:30. She kissed him gently before closing his bedroom door softly behind her and trying to leave the house undetected.

On her walk to work, she smoked a cigarette, willing the brief high to wash away the thought of Barry, which lingered in the back of her head. Instead, she focused on the sound of the laughing gulls on the shore, and the rhythmic lapping of the waves as they reached the beach. The crunch of her shoes on the gravel shoulder of the road, of the sound of cars driving by her, of the voices greeting her as she passed houses.

Work was busy with tourists, rebounding back to the island after the hurricane. The hotels had power again, and she talked to her guests about what they had been up to. She liked hearing their stories: what drew them to the OBX, where they came from, who they were. One young couple had just gotten engaged the day before. One table seated an older couple, travelling down the east coast from Connecticut looking for seashells, and asked her the best spots.

“At low tide, the west side of the island is the best,” she suggested, topping off their coffees and putting another handful of prepackaged creamer on the table next to their mugs. “The sound makes it shallower, so there’s lots of critters living there. More intense wave action on the east side will wash some up but they’re usually pretty banged up.”

“That’s a neat necklace,” the woman pointed out. Christy picked up the pendant, smiling. “Did you find that?”

“This? Oh, thanks. I love it. My mom found it.” She couldn’t help but smile at the couple, and at the memory. She pulled it off to hand to the woman. “It’s from a moon snail. The hole is a drill hole, see how regular it is on the edges? Moon snails are predatory, they’ll drill into whatever they can. Usually clams and other snails. Even other moon snails. Like this one here.” Christy pointed out the perfectly rounded hole.

“Did you find it here?” the man asked.

“Nah I’ve found some here though. They’re everywhere. I found this one at Edisto Island near Charleston. You guys should definitely check it out, it’s the best shelling beach I’ve ever been to.”

The couple tenderly looked at each other. “That’s where we got married,” the woman said. “Thirty five years ago. That’s one of our next stops.”

“It’s a special place, that’s for sure,” Christy said, smiling. Mr. Carrera’s voice sounded through the restaurant, calling out her name. “Is there anything else I can get you two?” she asked. The couple shook their heads, and she turned to make her way to the counter.

“I’ve got a big to go order just called in,” he said, scribbling on a notepad. “Can you and Kiara make sure everything makes it into the right containers for them, and then help load it up?”

“Sure thing, Mr. C,” she replied. They were at an odd time of the day – they were still serving breakfast, but had just opened up orders for their lunch menu. Since it was a Sunday, the place was packed with brunchers, and her section was full, keeping her mind occupied.

The shelling couple left her a hefty tip and a sweet note on the receipt. Maybe she would see them on her walk home at the beach she told them about.

“JJ told me about you and Rafe,” Kiara said as they were packing to-go containers into plastic bags as the orders were finished.

“You gonna warn me about him?” Christy asked flatly, almost disinterested. It sounded bitchy of her, but she knew Kiara cared about her.

“Just… be careful.” Kiara replied quietly. “If you ever need a buffer or place to crash away from them… let me know. Okay?”

Christy looked at Kiara, surprised. “Thanks, Kie,” she smiled. It was nice knowing there was someone looking out for her, even if they weren’t extremely close.

The rest of her shift went by quickly and effortlessly, but as she closed out and began walking him, she was smacked in the face with reality. Barry would be waiting for her, without a doubt. She also realized she hadn’t gotten any texts from Rafe. It was two in the afternoon. Surely he would be awake and wanting to talk to her, right?

Christy walked along the beach, her shoes shoved into her backpack. She saw their boat tied to their dock, the trailer just up the shore from it, and she started towards the trailer. Barry was laying on a couch outside. It was nasty – they usually just draped a tarp over it whenever it rained.

After mentally preparing herself for this interaction all day, she was surprised to see Barry grinning at her, calling out to her giddily.

Christy could tell he wasn’t high, but sober. His mood plus his mental state didn’t make sense

Something had happened.

----

fun stuff to come in the next few chapters! shit’s about to hit the fan ;)

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#outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #kiara carrera #john b #john b routledge #john booker routledge #pope heyward #drew starkey

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