#GON TWIRLING KI AROUND

[killuaisaprincess]

🍭🦷

“Gon! Can you buy me this!”

He makes sure to look back at Alluka, and Alluka rolls her eyes.

Gon stares at the huge rainbow-colored lollipop, somehow feeling the pain radiating to his teeth.

“Big Brother, aren’t you a bit old for that?”

Alluka comments snidely, and Killua gasps and puffs out his cheeks.

“G-Gon…? Do you think I’m too old for it?”

Killua looks up at him with big blue eyes, and Gon shifts his balance, holding Killua with one arm and letting one hand free.

“Of course not, princess. But didn’t you complain about your tooth hurting the other day?”

[kissitbttr]

RANDOMMM SCENARIO BUT… famous athlete(soccer player) comes up to Wife and flirts with her (???) while her and miggy are at a club or something. 🫨

ooo this gon be a one jealous miggy🤤🤤

-

miguel is fucking furious,

he and his wife had planned to have a date night. a nice drink at a cocktail bar would do the two of them good. in which he refused at first. he offered a dinner and gentle walks with ice cream but it seems that his wife managed to make him agree with her instead . thanks to her gorgeous puppy dog eyes and seduction, he actually complied. under one condition, that she has to stay by his side the entire night.

‘aw baby, you know i wouldn’t stray too far away from you. I wouldn’t like to dance alone anyway’

that’s not why miguel wanted her to leave his side for more than five minutes,

if she did, then miguel has to look at some twenty something year old mother fucker trying to hit on her like this exact moment,

it’s because he knows how gorgeous his wife is. her presence alone could make people’s head turns and men to fall to their knees. let alone if she opens her mouth and speak, they could easily be entranced and fall in love,

how would he know, you ask? because that’s what she did to him the first time he met her,

he brings his glass of whiskey to his lips, taking a slow sips as his eyes settled on another brunette man trying to entertain his wife by the bar,

five minutes. miguel fucking left for five minutes to go to the bathroom and some pubescent fucker already is trying his ways to woo her,

it’s not like she’s actually interested with the guy. he could sense the boredom radiating from her, and he doesn’t even have to stand close to her,

it makes him laugh.

her ears perk at the sound of a familiar sound that she loves, turning around and flashes a smile before reaching a hand to his waist making him mirror her expression,

“miguel, darling. this is christian. christian king. he’s a—“

“number 07. football league. nice to meet you” on the contrary, miguel’s tone doesn’t sound inviting at all, in which she’s quick to notice but doesn’t say anything,

the guy however, is appalled. eyes wide at the size of the man before him who looks like he could snap his neck in half.

miguel’s impossibly large physique has never failed to intimidate people. how could it not? he’s one of the strongest spider-man for crying out loud! not to mention the amount of hours he put in during the workouts. especially when he’s in during the bulking season to put on more muscles,

lord have mercy whomever tries to cross him or disrespect his wife

“oh.. I didn’t know she came with someone” the guy gulps nervously but try to at least smile. “miguel o’hara? a friend of bruce wayne’s right?”

he scoffs, “hardly” he twirls the glass softly in his hand as the other snakes around her waist, showing him that she’s taken. “acquaintance is more suited”

christian lets out a hum, nodding along as he awkwardly tries to avert his gaze. miguel’s wife however is enjoying this weird interaction, her eyes flickers between them before smirking,

“christian here just asked me out on a date. to go watch him play”

hearing that makes christian choke, while miguel raises his one eyebrow at the bold question the man had the nerve to ask,

“that so?” miguel heaves a small humorless laugh, sounding pissed. he watches christian struggle to put some words as he shakes his head,

“t-that was before i knew she came with someone, i swear! sorry i mean no disrespect” he puts his hands up in defense, feeling scared that her words will affect his life. because the way miguel is staring him down hard,

there’s 99% chance that christian would walk out of here with broken arms,

“saw you kept touching her too, compá. you interested in my wife?” miguel steps in closer while she remains quiet, biting back a smile,

“no! oh my god, no! of course not i was—“

“how old are you?”

“21”

“shit” miguel chuckles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “look, you got to find one your age, kid. she’s taken. beat it”

christian nods fast, grabbing his drink off the table and mutter a soft sorry before scrambling off and away from the two,

his wife has her legs crossed, exposing the soft and delicate thighs between the slits of her dress while eyeing her husband who refuses to leave his gaze off the poor guy,

she smirks widely, elbow on the counter before chuckling causing miguel to look at his woman. which then his brows dip into a frown,

“you were enjoying that”

“i did” she confirms, moving to graze his cheek and down to the collar of his shirt. “you handled that better than i did”

“you complaining, cariño?”

“kind of. I should’ve prompted a fight”

“jesus, you’re crazy”

she leans closer, breath ghosting over his mouth as he looks down at her, mind going fuzzy. “you love it.”

“ay. si lo tengo, bonita” he sighs dreamily, planting a quick kiss on her ruby lips. “i still don’t like how they keep trying to take my woman away from me. first, it was at the cake test for our wedding and now that fucking kid—jesus is really testing me”

“what? you know i’m hot. some people just can’t help themselves” she shrugs innocently, giving him her best doe gaze while sipping on her cocktail,

with a groan, he pulls her in. “you’re pushing it, querida” eyes jumping between her eyes and mouth. “but you’re not wrong”

her lips stretch into a smile, pressing a finger on his chin to keep his eyes locked in his,

“you’re my husband. and i’m your wife. we’re tied, baby. you are stuck with me”

the nickname and the reminder puts him at ease for a bit, softly unclenching his jaw, head nodding at the thought of his wife being his forever,

his beautiful, beautiful wife,

“i mean, unless you want us to—“

“don’t even think about it” he grunts, giving her butt a spank with a glare. the gesture makes her giggle,

“you’re fucking mine”

[caashmoneynae]

OVER.

DEVANTÉ SWING x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Kierra and DeVanté have a toxic relationship, and no matter how much Kierra tries to leave, she falls back into his arms. ✨

❦

𝗞𝗜𝗘𝗥𝗥𝗔 laid in bed as her phone heavily buzzed on her bedside table, biting down on her lip and gripping the comforter covering her body to resist the temptation of answering her phone. it was around 3 A.M. and once she had finally drifted off to sleep, her phone jolted her awake. she knew it was no one other than DeVanté, and she tried her hardest not to fall into his arms for the millionth time.

Kierra and DeVanté's history wasn't too much. he was just too toxic for her liking. he didn't cheat, no. he was just... too unhealed to be in a relationship due to the arguments, accusations, and gaslighting.

Kierra did just fine without him though, and she managed to get back onto her feet. however... that didn't stop DeVanté from popping back up into her life. 2 months after they broke up, he texted one of the most infamous lines in relationship history: "i miss you."

Kierra held her ground and refused to feed into his antics, but not for very long. how did she fold? after DeVanté had called her phone for the fourth time, Kierra picked up the phone to tell him to leave her alone, but what he said next left her stuck due to the tone of voice he used.

"you tellin' me you don't miss me, baby? hm?" in the most seductive way he could possibly speak. how was Kierra not supposed to fold from the sound of his low voice? and in that tone... the tone that could make any woman drop to her knees... she stood no chance against him.

after that phone call, Kierra became brainwashed, and she fell right back into his arms. because of this slip-up, Kierra was now trapped in a cycle: she'd say she was done with him, then she'd get brainwashed, become weak in the knees, and end up in his bed, and the cycle repeated itself. her friends would label them as fuck buddies because of this, but she couldn't help but fall into his arms due to how good his sex was. it left her attached... FEENIN', if you will.

she had to fight between her brain and her vagina every time he reached out to her. it was like he was her POISON, and she couldn't get enough of it. this caused her mind to replay the same question: should she stand her ground or listen to her hormones?

let's find out.

snatching up her phone, Kierra repositioned herself in her bed as she picked up DeVanté's sixth call, gently gnawing on her bottom lip before she parted her lips to speak.

"...hello?"

"i was startin' to think you wasn't gon' pick up, beautiful." his honey vocals poured in Kierra's eardrum, and she could sense a smile on his face as she bit her lip to suppress her rising hormones.

"what do you want, DeVanté?" Kierra muttered, twirling one of her black box braids around her finger, as DeVanté let out a soft chuckle.

"i wanna come see you, pretty girl. is that a'ight with'chu?" DeVanté asked, causing Kierra to freeze up at the question.

her lips sat ajar as she internally fought with herself to figure out what to say. it would be nice to have him over... but she knew she'd regret it in the morning. his sex could satisfy her... but she'd regret it in the morning. she missed the feeling of his lips on hers... but. she'd. regret it. in. the morning.

"...i don't know about that, De."

"look... i know it's late, but i miss you, Ki'. and i know you miss me too. so, let's close the distance between us and let me come see you, baby." DeVanté bargained, causing Kierra to bite down on her lip while she pushed her thighs together to reduce the throbbing.

she could hear a bit of vulnerability in his voice, but she knew it was all a lie. it was one of the manipulative tactics he did. it was his way to guilt-trip you, or better yet, to get you to embrace him with open arms.

and that's exactly what Kierra did.

"...fine. hurry up before i change my mind."

—

the front door was opened and quickly shut, and Kierra knew it wasn't anybody but DeVanté. she didn't question how on earth he got a key to her house because she knew it was the key she gave him when they were together. she didn't think he still had it, but he did, and it wasn't very shocking that he did.

not only did he have a key to her house, but she also has one to his as well.

his shoes gently hit the stairs with each step he took, which added sound to the quiet house. despite the quietness, Kierra was wide awake, and DeVanté knew this. because of their phone call 10 minutes ago, he knew she wasn't asleep that fast. she wasn't one who could fall asleep very quickly, and that was one of the details DeVanté remembered about her.

DeVanté arrived at her doorway and two lovers locked eyes, the moonlight shining through Kierra's curtains and adding some light into the room while the two stared holes into one another silently. DeVanté's body adorned a jacket, a white tank top, a pair of jeans, and beige Timberlands while Kierra was dressed in a 'Jodeci' shirt and a pair of underwear with a bonnet on her head.

his hazel eyes beamed at her underneath the majestic lighting of the moon and he soon removed himself from the doorway, walking towards the bed that Kierra sat on. no words were spoken between the two, yet the sexual tension was extremely high, and they knew a way to fix it.

sitting next to her, Kierra sat Indian-style to give the light-skinned male some room to get close to her and their eyes never left each other's as DeVanté held his hand out, signaling for her to rest her face there. he did this a lot, for many different reasons though. sometimes he wanted to admire her, and at other times he wanted to kiss her.

this time, it was a mixture of the two.

DeVanté stared at her as his eyes traveled all over her face, starting at her pretty brown eyes and ending at her two-toned plump lips. his thumb gently caressed the side of her face as he lightly nudged her closer, her face coming closer to his while his other hand removed her bonnet and placed it on her bedside table.

Kierra's braids cascaded down her back as her clitoris began beating as fast as her heart, her eyes staring the handsome man in his face and waiting for him to make a move... any move. her breathing changed from steady to heavy and her lips gently parted from her sudden breathing change as DeVanté glanced down at her lips before looking into her eyes, a small smirk crossing his face once he realized she was growing needy under his touch.

"do it. i know you want to." on cue with his mutter, Kierra cupped his face in her hand and attached their lips, sparks flowing inside the kiss as his hand moved down from her face to her neck. a low moan fell from Kierra's lips once his hand applied pressure to her neck and DeVanté lightly smirked as he kicked off his boots and pulled the blankets back from Kierra's body, opening her legs and crawling between them while he laid her down on the queen mattress.

Kierra's hands gripped the collar of his jacket and she pulled it down his shoulders as DeVanté shimmed his arms out of the leather material and Kierra tossed it to the floor before her fingers clutched his tank top, tugging at it and signaling for him to remove it.

DeVanté wasted no time ripping the tank top in half and tossing it onto the floor as he flipped the two over, leaving him on his back and Kierra on top of him. Kierra rested her hands on his tattooed chest as DeVanté's hands slid down from her back to her ass, gripping both of her cheeks in both his hands and earning a feeble whimper from Kierra.

"i want you on my face. now."

—

"D-DeVanté! oh, my gosh, just like that!" Kierra moaned loudly, clutching her headboard in both hands, as DeVanté sloppily feasted on her wet sex, some of her juices dripping down his chin while he tightly gripped her hips.

her moans and whimpers blared out in the quiet room as DeVanté slurped up her sweet nectar like no tomorrow, his hands occasionally slipping down to her ass and giving it a squeeze or a slap.

"Deeeeeee, f-fuck." Kierra whined, her hips gently bucking on his face, as DeVanté's nails lightly dug into her hips and she moaned at the pleasurable pain it gave off, resting her head on her headboard while her body temperature started to rise.

❝ EVERY TIME WE LINK UP, IT'S ONLY US THERE. WE'RE THINKING, WILL WE GET THERE? IS IT WRONG? IS IT RIGHT? ❞

"aahhhh..." DeVanté's tongue slithered back and forth against her clitoris repeatedly and his wet muscle gently flicked the pulsing nub as Kierra let out a loud cry, her back arching and her vision faltering while her eyes rolled back.

"D-DeVanté! oh, my— yes! yes! ugh, G-God, yes!" Kierra cried, tears pricking at her eyes, as DeVanté smacked and gripped her ass, earning a whimper from the woman while he grinded her vulva against his mouth.

"you taste so good, my love." DeVanté muttered against her, tracing her clit in circles with his thumb, as Kierra's hips jolted at the contact and her brows furrowed, her jaw dropping agape once she felt DeVanté's tongue inside her folds.

❝ YOU KNOW THAT I MISS YOU, BUT I BE GETTING MIXED SIGNALS. WHY YOU SLOW DOWN? DON'T STOP THIS GREEN LIGHT. ❞

Kierra's body began to seize up and DeVanté noticed this, looking up at her while he smirked against her other set of lips. he watched her face scrunch up in pleasure as her lips sat open with no sound exiting them. tears now streamed down her rosy face and her grip on the headboard tightened as her eyes screwed shut and she gritted her teeth before a loud moan fell from her lips, her stomach caving in while the muscles in it convulsed.

"i- i'm cumming! i'm c-cumming! i'm— o-oh, my g-gosh— DeVanté!" Kierra shouted, electricity shooting through her body, as her movements halted and her honey flowed down on DeVanté's lips, his tongue sticking out of his mouth while he caught her rainfall.

"there you go, pretty girl. gimme all that sweet shit." DeVanté cooed, running his tongue over his lips before biting down on his bottom lip, as he continued to gently rub her swollen bud in circles and Kierra sighed, her body coming down from its high while she relaxed against DeVanté's face.

❝ NOW YOU CALLING ME SPECIAL, WHEN YOU KNOW I CAN'T HAVE YOU. ❞

noticing her now relaxed demeanor, DeVanté lifted her from his face as he laid her near the end of the bed on her stomach, soft pants falling from her lips while beads of sweat clouded around her hairline. laying her head on the pulled-back sheets, Kierra lazily looked back at DeVanté and watched him strip from his pants, biting down on her lip once his v-line was exposed to her. feeling eyes bore into him, DeVanté looked up from his actions and his eyes locked with hers, causing a smirk to spread across his face, as he removed his boxers from his lower half and tossed them on the floor with the rest of his clothes, his length hardened and standing tall while his veins lightly throbbed and his pink tip gently leaked with pre-ejaculation.

"arch that shit, mama," an arch quickly found its way to the woman's back, and this made the man chuckle while he came up behind her, "good girrrl."

Kierra felt a hand on her hip and a tip rubbing against her folds, making her whimper while she slightly wiggled her hips, "please..."

❝ WHEN I'M ON TO THE NEXT ONE, OH, NOW YOU WAN' GET AGGRESSIVE? ❞

"please what, sweet thing?" DeVanté smirked, biting down his lip at the woman, as he tapped his dick on Kierra's clitoris and she gasped softly while her hip lightly jolted at the impact.

"please put it in." Kierra whimpered softly, earning a small smile from her lover, as DeVanté placed his length at the woman's entrance and gradually slipped inside, a small groan coming from his lips once her walls contracted around him.

Kierra's jaw dropped and her eyes rolled as her brows furrowed and her arch deepened, the feeling of DeVanté's phallus stretching her out overwhelming her while she gently gripped the sheets. his strokes started slow to get the woman used to his big size, but they began to slowly speed up to a steady pace as DeVanté wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled her head back, his hand sliding from her hair to her neck while he pulled her up to his chest. slurred moans and whimpers fell from a dazed Kierra's parted lips as DeVanté bit his lip at her before moaning her name, his other hand caressing her left breast while his fingertips gently tugged at her nipple.

❝ OOH, FUCK DO YOU MEAN? YOU KEEP ON MAKING ME LEAVE. NIGHTMARES TURNED INTO A DREAM. ❞

"f-fuck... you look so pretty wit' that slutted-out look on yo' face. mmh, and you feel so good around me. you're so damn good, baby." DeVanté moaned out, squeezing the sides of her neck, as he began grinding his hips against her ass and Kierra let out a squeal, her hand lightly latching around DeVanté's wrist while her vision turned blurry.

"...D-De... mmh... s-so good..." Kierra softly slurred, completely in a daze, as DeVanté softly chuckled at her senselessness and planted kisses on the side of her face and neck, gently biting down on different parts of her neck and marking his territory.

Kierra's eyes fluttered and she let out small whimpers every time DeVanté's canines dug into her neck as her arm wrapped around his neck and she pulled him closer, her English slowly started to deteriorate the longer he was fucking her. she could hardly think straight, and hearing her thoughts was out of the question. it was like she was under hypnosis. the more he thrusted, the more her body craved for him to do it again. it was a continuous cycle, and that's exactly why she couldn't leave him alone.

because of how good he made her body feel.

❝ IF YOU'RE SO TOXIC TO ME, WHAT AM I FEENING? ❞

"mmm, you get so nasty for me, baby. this pussy get so wet fa' me and you lose all yo' control. such a pretty lil' slut, hm?" DeVanté whispered in her ear, teasing her, as he smirked and gently kissed her earlobe, "you hear what i'm sayin', baby?"

"DeVanté! oh, God, yes!" Kierra moaned loudly, her body beginning to jolt in his arms, as her eyes rolled back and DeVanté let out a soft chuckle, her grip tightening on his wrist while she tossed her head back against his broad shoulder.

"stop callin' for God, baby, he can't help you now."

❝ 'CAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS OVER. GOT ME THINKING MY FEELINGS OVER. YOU KEEP DOIN' IT OVER AND OVER. YOU KEEP CALLING ME BACK. ❞

suddenly, DeVanté pinned Kierra on the mattress and held her down by the middle of her back, his thrusts taking a small intermission and slowing down while he leaned down to her ear.

"don't call out for him. call out for me. tell me how good i'm makin' you feel, beautiful. talk to me and let me know sum'." raising from his leaned down position, DeVanté's strokes gained momentum and his hips snapped into Kierra's at a quick pace, making her go speechless while her hands tightly gripped the sheets underneath her. her eyes rolled back and she began to spit out gibberish as her lips sat agape, his phallus sliding so deep that it may have even grazed her soul.

the bed rocked back and forth due to DeVanté's monster strokes and the headboard began slamming against the cream-colored room, which may or may not leave a mark, as drool slipped from Kierra's lips and she began to lose feeling in her legs, the gushiness of her pussy airing out into the room while the atmosphere began to smell like sex.

❝ I'M JUST TRYNA GET CLOSURE, BUT YOU'RE PULLING ME CLOSER AND CLOSER. PHONE RINGING, LIKE, OVER AND OVER. 'CAUSE YOU KEEP CALLING ME BACK. ❞

"you'resodeep, sodeep, sofucking— ugh! s-s-so d-dee- D-DeVanté!" Kierra stuttered out in a moan, tears falling down her face for a second time, as a rough smack was placed on her as and she squealed loudly, her asscheek stinging while his handprint formed on the fragile skin.

"how deep am i, suga'? hm? where you feelin' me at? you feelin' me in all them good spots, mama?" DeVanté cooed, slapping her ass for a second time, as Kierra cried out loudly and her body tingled underneath his touch while she lost the feeling in her lips.

Kierra tried her best to form words, but to no avail, as she sobbed loudly, her body being pushed into overstimulation while her grip tightened on the sheets. her knuckles nearly turned white due to her tight grip and around 2-3 of her acrylics popped off and hit the floor, making her grateful that her nails weren't freshly done or she would be in pain. she sniffled through her moans and whimpers and she cried out DeVanté's name for the millionth time tonight as the bed fastly rocked beneath her, another one of her nails popping off and hitting the floor while DeVanté gripped her asscheek and rubbed the area he previously hit.

❝ LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA. ❞

"aww, baby, what'chu cryin' for?" DeVanté cooed with a smirk, looking down at her teary-eyed face, as Kierra looked back at him before her body convulsed, making her cry out.

"b-becauseitfeelsogood!" Kierra's words came out as jumbled, but DeVanté understood her loud and clear, as he softly chuckled and sneakily slid deeper, causing his phallus to slam right into her g-spot.

this. this is why Kierra was so stuck. the way DeVanté fucked her made her indecisive on if she wanted to go through with cutting him off or not. she knew it was good for her mentally, but physically, she knew it wouldn't do any good for her. he might've been toxic and he might not be stable enough for a relationship, but when he fucked you, you'd be dumb enough to stick around and listen to every word he said, and that was the cycle Kierra was stuck in. and she didn't know how she'd escape it. he might not be good for her mentally, but physically, he was the right man for the job, and Kierra settled for it.

she'd answer every single call he made, just as long as she got a taste of his POISON.

❝ WHY YOU KEEP CALLING ME... BACK? ❞

[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion (Darth Maul x Reader) Pt. 1: Wild and a Quest

I had this idea and I thought it was fucking interesting and I wanted to write it

This will be in multiple parts as I made this first installment hecka long. Maul will soon be more heavily featured but for now, I just had to establish some stuff. 

Story summary: Reader reunites with Maul for the first time in twelve years and...the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, slow start

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

Current read, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

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

The roar of the ship as it took off was deafening despite you being housed in the cockpit. Instinctively, you reached up to cover your ears and closed your eyes as gravity shifted. You couldn’t wait to be in the vacuum of space; at least then gravity wouldn’t even exist. A gentle pat on your forearm was enough to make you open your eyes and look to the side. To your right was Wild, an eleven-year-old zabrak-human hybrid, the last piece of evidence you had of your life before all this. He was the symbol of your union with him. Wild was your son. 

The carmine-colored, half-dathomirian, barely-tattooed boy was looking up at you with sympathetic saffron eyes, he knew of your deep-rooted hatred for liftoff. Gently, you smiled at the boy to ease his worry and offered a soft pat on his head, careful to avoid the tiny horns protruding from his skull. Wild didn’t return it and instead opted to grab your hand off of his head to hold it in his own before focusing on the viewport. You deflated at that as your heart suddenly ached. 

Wild was so much like his father that it hurt you sometimes, not only in looks though (although he was practically his carbon copy) but in personality; proud, serious, and protective with a cunning unrivaled by anyone else on the outside but a soft-spoken, gentle, curious and sometimes anxious boy inside. It was hard to remember that he was eleven sometimes-not the adult he pretended to be and not your little baby boy that used to cling to your leg all day. You just wanted him to be a little boy who was free to dream, explore, and play as he pleased but it seemed the force would not grant you your one wish. Instead, it took his father away from you before he had even got the chance to know of the remarkable gift he’d given you. You did suppose that Wild’s predisposed traits that bound him so tightly to the father he’d never known were a blessing in disguise. It had always served as reassurance that if anything ever happened to take you away from Wild, he’d be fine on his own.

...His own. It was a thought you never liked to dwell on. Wild was born at a delicate time in your life. You were 21 when you learned you were pregnant with the baby of a sith-lord and the news had been...startling to say the least. It had occurred to you one day while you were preparing to face the Trials that your cycle had been off. Deeming it odd enough to warrant a visit to the medbay, you sought out one of the healers. You’d instantly wished that you had chosen a droid instead as it was soon revealed that you were two months pregnant. You had to feign ignorance about knowing of a father at all. It had worked for a time as the issue was immediately brought before the council who were all in various states of shock. The worst reaction, you remembered, was that of your master. But, the council did not kick you out like you were certain they would have had they known of the baby’s heritage. Instead, the council believed your lie-that there was no father. Of course, they believed it. You were Ki-Adi-Mundi’s apprentice, chosen specifically by him due to your, as he phrased it, “natural and strong alignment with the light side”. You were a model padawan who would never even think of breaking the code, let alone to this extent. Your training was put on hold for the time being as the council awaited the birth of your baby, some Jedi even began to wonder if the child would be the prophesied ‘chosen one’ (though Qui-Gon, most notably, believed otherwise). It was then that you knew that your time with the Jedi was up. You formulated a plan. Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, were being sent on a mission to Naboo to protect the queen. 

You begged your master to let you go with them as you had been cooped up in the temple for a whole month after the pregnancy announcement. Your master obliged, certain that no harm would come to you on the mission, and you were swift to join the grey Jedi and his stuck-up padawan. Your plan from there was to land on Naboo’s surface and disappear for a bit to get the Jedi off your back and to get in contact with him again. But, of course, that all went downhill and...you had seen your love be cut down by your fellow padawan. He wasn’t supposed to be there to your knowledge and now he was dead and you were still carrying his baby. Obi-Wan was swift to pick up on your anguish and even swifter to alert the council of your lies and treachery against the Order. You were ejected from the order and locked away in the temple prison to await the birth of your baby whereupon the Jedi would tear him away from you indefinitely. It would have been a fate worse than death for you. That is, had you not escaped and faked your death to get the Jedi off your back. 

Wild came soon after, being borne to a disgraced and presumed dead mother and a most definitely dead sith-lord father. Yet, you had done your very best to love him in every possible way as he had no other family besides you. 

It seemed that this was something your son was acutely aware of too as the young boy was fiercely protective of you just as you were protective of him. Case in point: the only other person in the room that could pose a threat-Wild’s own uncle, Saváge Opress. 

The seven-foot walking mountain of a zabrak had found you and your son on Tatooine whilst during one of your rare visits to the desert world. Your first meeting wasn’t pleasant. 

“You, woman, what is your name?” The low bass voice sounding from behind you would have been enough to make you run if not for the fact that your son was still in the store you had just left. Slowly, you moved your hand to one of your sabers concealed within the confines of your cloak before turning around. 

“Give me your name, dathomirian,” You spat at the goldenrod zabrak despite the fact he towered over you and could probably crush your skull with one hand, “and maybe I will give you mine.” 

He snarled, clearly displeased with the response but relented. “My name is Savage Opress.” 

You analyzed him for a moment, eyes raking up and down his form. He was big and strong and going by the saber hilt hooked on his belt, trained in the force. Was he a Jedi? Was he a sith? Had he been sent here to kill you? He was in for a surprise if he had. “Why are you speaking to me, Opress?” 

“You told me you would give me your name.” Savage growled, large hand landing on his saber. 

“No, I said that maybe I would.” You removed your lightsaber from your belt but ensured you kept it hidden from view. 

“I don’t have time for your games, woman.” 

“That makes two of us, good day, sir.” You hissed and turned to walk away, intent on looping around and meeting up with Wild to get off this miserable planet. However, that wouldn’t happen right now as your ears soon met with the distinctive sound of a lightsaber igniting. With an agitated sigh, you whipped out your own weapon and spun around just in time to meet your attacker; green blade clashing with red. Sith. Most likely his master’s new apprentice.

Savage was strong, physically, but you could feel that he was weaker in the force than you. That would be your only hope; let the force guide you while he relies on his own physical prowess. You met the male zabrak strike for strike, each one threatening to knock you off your feet with the force Savage fought with. The fight was grueling and you could feel the rustiness in each spin and block-you only ever used your lightsaber when training your son-and as it went on, one thought became abundantly clear; you weren’t going to win like this. You had to figure out a way to make the mountain stand still. Thinking on your feet, you fell back before taking a running start at Savage. You feinted to the right and used the wall to boost yourself over the behemoth of a man, twirling as you went until you landed behind him and shot a well-aimed kick to the back of one of his knees. The move was meant to bring Savage down to your level so you could cut his head off but when the blow landed, nothing happened. Startled, you froze which would prove fatal. 

Savage spun around and grabbed your ankle in one hand before roughly swinging you into the wall. The air was driven from your lungs as you felt your back connect with the sandstone of the building behind you. Savage released you, allowing you to crumple to the ground as you fought to breathe. You were granted little reprieve though as soon Savage was stooping down and roughly lifting you by your neck in one fist. Your feet kicked lamely at your attacker in your struggle for survival as your nails clawed at the back of Savage’s hand. 

“I’ll ask one more time, what is your name?” Savage growled low in his throat and tightened his grip. 

“Will you let me live?” You coughed out, looking Savage dead in the eyes which briefly reminded you of your son’s. Your son. You had to stay alive for him. 

“Maybe, if you are who I am looking for.” 

It seemed that that was as good a chance as any.

“Y/n, my name’s Y/n.” Savage’s necklace suddenly glowed an eerie blue and you were prompted to ask your next question. “Wha-What do you want with me?” 

“I’m looking for someone-my brother. I was told that you knew him, jedi.” 

Electing to ignore the incorrect title, you continued to talk. Maybe, if you lowered his guard, you could still make it out of this alive. “I know a lot of people but not a lot of them are zabraks.” Savage’s eye ridge quirked up in questioning. “But...if it’s who I think you’re looking for-he’s dead. Killed by Obi-Wan on Naboo twelve years ago.” 

“That’s what I was told too-but I have cause to believe he is still alive and I was told that you would be the one to help me find him.” 

No...impossible. “You’re....you’re a liar!” You screamed at the zabrak. “I watched him die! He’s dead-he won’t come back-he can’t come back no matter how much I-” 

“Mom?!”  A familiar pre-pubescent yet soft voice cut you off. Immediately your attention, as well as Savage’s, were on Wild who stood at the mouth of the alley with saffron eyes that blazed like molten lava. He had never looked more like his father than in that moment.

Savage looked at you, confusion and something else (regret maybe?) all over his goldenrod face. “Mo-?”

“Wild, run!” You cut Savage off and gathered enough strength to curl in on yourself and strike Savage in the face with both feet. The zabrak released you at once and you fell to the ground unceremoniously before summoning your lightsaber to you. Not wasting time, you ignited it and dove at Savage, ready to make him pay for his filthy lies. Savage was quick, though, and managed to block your blow with his own sword. However, what neither of you expected was for a second contender to join the match in the form of Savage’s nephew and your son wielding your old blue lightsaber. “Wild, I told you to run!”

“You also told me to never run from a fight!” The little boy shot back, pressing down with all the strength he had. Stubbornness. That was another trait inherited from his father and enhanced by your own strong will. With a roar, Savage launched both of you back, sending you to the ground and your son flying. You watched as his little body collided with the same wall you had been smacked against minutes ago and nearly lost it. Channeling all your anger, you reared on Savage and pushed him back with the strongest force push you could muster before immediately running over to your son. He had sat up and was clutching at the back of his head where you noticed a small cut. You were going to kill Savage; brother-in-law or not. 

“Wild, when I tell you to ‘run’, think of it as a tactical retreat. And for the record, I told you to know when to run from a fight.” You reprimanded quickly as you picked your son up and ushered him behind you. The two of you began to back away as Savage struggled to his feet. The two of you were almost to the entrance of the alley when the zabrak got a hold of his senses. 

“Y/n, wait, please.” Savage began, sheathing his lightsaber and holding out a hand to you in surrender. His yellow eyes flickered between your son and yourself, guilt prominent in his features. You found yourself pausing. “I know you do not believe me-”

“No, I don’t and frankly, you have given me no reason to. If...if Maul was alive, I would have found him.” You spat in anger at the arrogance of this zabrak. Did he think that you hadn’t searched? Did he think that you hadn’t cared for him? Did he not see the disproof standing behind you? 

“But you did not have the magicks of Mother Talzin.” Savage’s voice was soft now as he tapped the talisman around his neck. 

You were struck silent at that. He was of course correct-you hadn’t had the aid of his people. With a heavy sigh, you rose out of your defensive position and sheathed your lightsaber, much to the surprise of the two males. “Wild.” Your voice was soft, caring, and you could feel your progeny’s confusion as if it was your own. “Take everything to the ship. I’ll be there in a minute.” Wild hesitated for a moment and you expected to get some attitude later but for now, he just softly handed your second lightsaber to you and stalked off after sending a final glare at Savage. 

“Alright, you have my attention, Savage. What do you need?” You asked in a steely voice. 

“Everything you knew about my brother.” 

From there, the three of you had begun your search. Savage had explained his story and you had explained yours (he was almost overjoyed to know that he had a nephew). However, you both agreed that, for now, you wouldn’t tell Wild who Maul actually was in relation to him. This meant that Wild didn’t know that Savage was his uncle which led to the current distrust you were witnessing now. You hated not telling Wild but you didn’t want to give him hope that his father was alive to then rip it away from him when Savage’s wild goose chase proved to be just that. Now, you were riding in a cargo ship on your way to the trash planet, Lotho Minor.

You had landed a few minutes ago after Savage took control of the ship and were now faced with a dilemma. Did you go with Savage or stay in the ship with your son?

“Wild,” Savage’s booming voice called the young boy’s attention to him, however resentfully, “Stay with the ship. Your mother and I will explore.” 

“No.” Wild snapped immediately with a glare as his hand tightened around your own till his sharp nails started to dig into your skin. You sighed softly and turned to your son. 

“Wild, I’ll be fine. Savage won’t hurt me. Protect the ship, sweetheart, we’ll be right back.” You placed a soothing hand on the side of his face. His little red face grew more grave. He didn’t trust Savage, plain and simple. You wrinkled your nose at him before placing a peck on his forehead and pulling him into a smothering hug. “You worry too much, little man.” The boy protested at the display and loosely pushed you away but you had done your job as Wild seemed much more on board with the idea. “We’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone else on board, got it?” 

Wild sighed with an eye roll. “Yes, mother.” His tone was annoyed but, having raised the boy, you knew he was only exaggerating his feelings. You placed yet another peck on your son’s forehead and gently pinched his carmine cheek before striding over to Savage who had watched the whole interaction. Neither of you spoke until you were outside. 

“You’re good with him.” Savage piped up suddenly, his low bass a welcomed contrast to the wind whipping through the heaps of garbage. 

You were taken aback. For all the times Wild had been brought up in conversation with the older zabrak, your skill in parenting was never mentioned let alone complimented. “I should hope that I would be,” you began, uncertain where you were going with this, “I am his mother.” 

Savage made a funny noise in the back of his throat that prompted you to look up at him. “I-I just meant that…you’re...different than the nightsisters. They...they didn’t care if they had a boy.” Ah, the nightsisters. The infamous clan of witches that had bought and traded your unofficial husband long ago and continued to do with Savage. You prompted Savage to elaborate as you two began to walk. “They cared if they had a girl as she would stay with their clan but...if it was a boy, he was sent to us to be subjected to the same fate as so many men before us.” Savage’s eyes were clouded in thought as he relieved what was probably some awful memory. “It’s strange to see a boy be cared for is all.” 

“Dathomir sounds...awful. I can’t imagine what you went through, Savage.” You dared to lay a hand on his forearm, making the zabrak halt in his tracks. “But...but if Maul isn’t...but if Maul isn’t here to be found, you could have a place with us.” You smiled gently. “You are family, Savage. I see it and I’m sure Wild will see it as well.” 

Savage’s other hand came up to rest on the hand on his arm. There was a genuine smile on his face, for once. “Thank you, Y/n.” With a dip of your head, you resumed your walk. “Y/n?” Only to be stopped by the questioning lilt in Savage’s voice. “I never asked, how did you and Maul ever meet?” 

A wistful smile dared to dash across your face as your mind’s eye immediately conjured up the image of the stunning ruby red zabrak you’d come to love so dearly. “That, my dear brother, is quite the story...”

....………………………………

Next ->

[killuaisaprincess]

Aishiteru

Gon’s hands are strong, meaty, and large, have the power to destroy a thousand men with no problem, but he wants to use them to love and protect.

Killua’s hands are thin and tiny and dainty, but also have the power to destroy a thousand men with ease. But Killua is kind and selfless, and Gon wants to protect that, protect him.

He’d destroy hundreds, thousands if he could keep Killua happy and stop him from ever having to have blood repainted on his hands.

So Killua could finally live a happy, everyday life.

Killua got mad and yelled at him one day. He didn’t get why Gon was such an idiot staying in this tiny apartment with a typical job helping with laborious jobs and moving stuff. It was easy for Gon.

Killua worked at a flower shop, and the tender way he cares for the flowers warms Gon’s heart, seeing Killua’s soft smile... Although he initially took the job because of Alluka… it was obvious. He loved it.

Killua still has nightmares.

Gon doesn’t need a lot to know. He can feel the slight push into his chest, and his body wakes up like he has been lit on fire. His heart had been.

Killua is gone before his groggy body can catch up with his mind. Sitting at the edge of the bed, his small frame slumped and his shoulders shaking, Gon’s shirt hanging off and revealing his pale moonlight skin.

“…Go back to sleep… ‘m fine…”

Killua’s not an idiot; he knows Gon’s hearing is better than an average human's; all his senses are. Gon can pick up on the hitch and labored breath no matter how quiet and drawn in.

“Killu-“

“Go back to bed, idiot!”

Killua jumps off the bed ever graceful even if he stomps his foot; it doesn’t make a sound, his hands bunched up at his sides.

“You don’t get it!”

“I’m not-“

It hurts his heart so much to hear Killua’s voice waver; he wants to just scoop him up in his arms and take away all the pain.

“I don’t deserve to be happy! Not like you or Alluka! You’re good people! I- I-...’m not... I don’t deserve to be happy!”

Gon has to bite his tongue until the taste of metal runs into his mouth to not say anything, dig his heels into the bed, and bury his palms into the plush until he rips cotton out.

“A-And! There’s no way you can be happy living a plain boring normal life! That’s not Gon-like at all! You-You idiot! You’re too free-spirited!”

He is.

He won’t deny it. Not when he gets off the bed, letting his bare feet hot the ground, humming.

“I am.”

But there’s something more important to him than that. Something that…

Killua doesn’t move, even if he tenses up when Gon gets close, only then taking one step back, Gon wrapping an arm around his thin waist.

“Let me go, idiot!”

“Seeing you happy makes me the happiest I’ve ever felt. I don’t need anything else.”

Killua stiffens under his grip, burying those oh-so-small fingers into his shirt, making Gon’s heart rise and ache simultaneously; Killua closes into him, small and vulnerable. He’s like a tiny kitten that needs to be protected.

“You deserve to be happy. I promise.”

He promises with his whole heart, easily lifting Killua up and walking back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

“‘Kay?”

He knows Killua doesn’t-won’t believe him, but it’s small steps like Killua letting himself bury himself into Gon’s chest and seek any small bit of comfort…

“You’re an idiot! And wrong…”

But he relaxes just slightly. 

XxX

Killua’s smile lights up the whole room, the whole world. The stars, the sun, the galaxy smiles when he does. He doesn’t have to do anything to stand out. Even when he’s just wearing a simple long white sundress with white sandals, he is the star. His cute catlike grin as he looks into another shop window… well... Gon doesn’t mind spending all his Jenny.

Some other men can try, but only he gets to pay for Killua’s stuff.

Only him.

Gon’s heart is no longer a thing in his chest. It’s skyward bound.

“Gon!”

People stare. How can they not? Not with an angel come to earth standing right there.

He doesn’t feel jealous, only a sense of pride and cockiness; none of them get Killua. His smile. His cute laugh. The way his small pinkie will loop shyly through ones own.

Killua is shy, but once in a while…

He drops his bags on the ground, running toward Gon. He jumps, and Gon catches him with ease, twirling him around, as Killua wraps his arms around Gon’s neck, giggling.

He slowly lowers Killua to the ground, and Killua lets his arms drop, instead lopping his arms through Gon’s and hugging his back, pressing his face into Gon’s chest.

“Mmm? What’s this?”

Gon drawls teasingly, leaning down and drawing Killua closer so that he can smell the fresh citrus of his hair.

“I thought you wouldn’t miss me!”

Killua shifts, purposely clocking the top of his head with Gon’s chin.

He had to help someone move for his job, and while it had only been two days. It felt like forever.

Ow.

He looks down at Killua, whose cheeks are puffed out like an adorable hamster, arms folded across his chest.

“Stupid! STUPIIIDDDD! …’course, I did…”

His chest is stabbed from the guilt and the cute, and he reaches out to take Killua’s hand, who slowly uncrosses his arms, looking up.

“I’m sorry, kit kat, I didn’t mean it.”

Gon takes his fingers, slowly intertwining his, dipping down, and Killua looks to the side, cheeks red as the sunset, standing on his tiptoes, to join, pressing his lips to Gons for a short moment.

He hops back down, tentatively bunching his fingers up into his sundress, lifting it up, and dropping it.

Gon waits patiently.

He’s always met with that small bundle of fluff that he always catches as Killua grabs the front of his jacket.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

He holds Killua as tight as he can, dropping his head and shoulders, muttering into his hair, and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Stupid.”

It’s an insult on the surface, but it’s quiet, with no bite, only a sense of relief in Killua’s voice that makes Gon smile softly.

He’s lucky. No one gets this but him.

[killuaisaprincess]

Princess

“Gon… Gon… Gon…”

He starts to whimper, and Gon’s breath catches in his throat as he wraps his arms around Killua’s impossibly small frame. He shouldn’t feel happy about this, dang it! But Killua has made so much progress in opening up. It’s so cute when Killua grabs his sleeve and shyly pouts and asks for something, or when he will quickly hold onto Gon’s bicep when they are watching a movie and just look so dang cute…

“Shhh… shh… it’s okay, my love.”

[killuaisaprincess]

Hime

It’s STILL 7/7 SOMEWHERE, AKA WHERE I AM! 😤😤😤 HAPPY B-DAY TO KI I LOVE HIM 😤😤😤

The rush of adrenaline is never the same. The beating and pounding of his heart, it vibrates underneath the ground beneath his feet too, and every rushed step hurts. Splintering pain as thorns dig into his soles and rocks turn that porcelain red.

The shouting that rings echoes with each step. But he doesn’t stop, he pushes through the pain, and he won't stop, not even when he reaches the clearing stumbling through trees and bushes. His knees give out, and he’s stuck in the field of soft willowy grass, tears stuck to his cheeks and glistening like the stars.

He gets back up, bunching his fingers in the expensive silk of his garments, the rippling layers of skirts like water, even though it stings and everything hurts…

He runs again, not scared. Gon would catch him. It’s not logical; he would be laughed at for assuming such a thing.

But it’s not an assumption!

Killua knows, like something aching deep in his heart, as he runs down that hill.

“Gon!”

He half falls and half jumps right into Gon’s arms.

“Princess!”

Every second spent is warmth and safety all wrapped up in joy, Gon’s hands firm and strong around his waist, the world spinning as he’s twirled around, his heart pitter-patters, and he feels dizzy, love can make him feel so overwhelmingly sick, but he feels such elation... it's worth it.

Gon slows down, gently placing Killua’s feet on the ground, but Killua doesn’t want to move his hands from Gon’s neck; he doesn’t want- he’s afraid…

But he lets go reluctantly.

“Princes-“

Killua places his index finger up to Gon’s lips, a pout forming across his delicate features.

“Stupid! I told you not to call me that! …’s ‘mbarrassing…” 

B-But it does kinda make him happy… 

Gon gently takes his hand, and Killua feels his whole being go warm, from the tips of his ears to his fingers, tingling.

“I know, but you can’t me them; you look as pretty as a princess.”

That warm, pricking feeling runs right down his spine and makes his hair stand on edge as he smacks Gon in the chest with his free hand.

“S-shut up!”

Gon only looks at him gently, grinning.

“But Killua, I call you that because you're my princess. You’re all mine.”

Mine.

Stupid. How selfish.

Saying he’s all yours. Like that…

No… stop… you just make it harder…

Killua can’t…

He’s selfish too.

Unbearably so.

“Killua?”

Killua shouldn’t flinch, but he can’t help it when Gon’s fingers brush gently against his cheek and then sweep some of his curly locks behind his ear.

“Did they hurt you again?”

There’s something terrifying about Gon’s soft, whispered tone and the grave, almost dark glint in his eye.

Of course, they did. They always do. The slap still burns deep against his skin, even though time has run its course, but it’s still burned into his soul, and it still hurts. Everything hurts. Gon pulls him in and hugs him tight, into the cocoon of his embrace, and Killua blinks back tears, pressing his nose into Gon’s dirty shirt.

“I hate them. I hate it there.”

He doesn’t.

He wants to be selfish. He doesn’t care!

He just wants…

To be with Gon.

“Your highness!”

“Your highness!”

The screams get louder, and he feels that cold grasp back on him, trying to tear him away and submerge him into those depths.

He doesn’t want to go…

Slowly pushing away from Gon, tears blurring his vision. He can’t make out Gon’s face; he doesn’t want to. It’ll make going that much harder.

His voice wavers, and he speaks softly like he’s about to break.

He is about to break.

“I made a wish to the stars today… s-since it’s my birthday… to see you one last time…”

He wants more. But this moment would have to be enough.

He probably looks ugly. Sobbing like this, it’s the floodgates of his bleeding heart.

“Killua? Killua!?”

Just once more, can Gon pick him up and hold him in that embrace?

His vision blurs, and the stars imprison him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“That will be all for today.”

Everything is cold. Stone. Like a prison.

The colors of his heavy draped white dress, the walls, even the king's lips touching his fingers. It’s all cold. Everything is cold, the shimmer of icy blue against his eyelids, the only color... is the bright red of his lips.

Killua hates looking at himself in the mirror.

Everyone would talk about him. Nothing is as beautiful as him. But…

He grabs a long strand of his hair, scoffing, tugging on it.

He hates his hair long.

He hates all of this.

What’s the point…?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Your majesty, we have to go.”

He isn’t going. He doesn’t care. He stares blankly, as cold as the wall, ignoring the pleas, not even flinching when red stains his cheeks; it’s the same color painted on his lips. The screams of agony fall to deaf ears. He’s waited seventeen years for the stars to grant his wish. What’s the point…?

When he dies… can he become a star…? If he were to fall, would Gon catch him…?

“Princess…”

A dream…?

It doesn’t feel real. His shoulders feel so heavy, and his eyelids droop.

He lifts the heavy fabric up, standing up slowly; his hair falls over his shoulder, brushing against his bare skin, falling and flowing down his back.

A dream…

The blood stains the porcelain of the whole castle.

It’s not…

Gon’s hair doesn’t go to his shoulders like that… it’s not that wild and messy. And Gon doesn’t have a stubble like that. And Gon doesn’t have scars running up and down his arms….

Those golden eyes, those aren’t Gon’s. THEY AREN’T!

It’s too cruel.

No. There’s no way. Gon would want a broken porcelain doll-like him.

It’s not! Why would they wait so long! To- to!

His legs feel shaky, and his throat and chest feel so tight. Anger pushes against him like a tidal wave, sorrow pushing him down further. It’s too overwhelming.

Was the universe really so awful as to make him wait… this long.

“IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT!”

He doesn’t know who he’s yelling it too. Himself. Gon… or the stars.

He wants to say so much more; this pressure against his chest makes him choke, tears picking against his eyes and flooding over.

I love you. Why? How?

So many things he wants to say.

His throat burns, his eyes burn, his stomach keeps twisting and turning, and black edges into his vision; everything is so heavy, and bile rises in his throat.

His legs give out, his eyes rolling into the back of his head; the blank grey ceiling adorned with fancy lettering is the last thing he catches a glimpse of, but he swears he sees the night sky glittering through it.

If this is real… would Gon catch him…? Want to…?

Why wouldn’t Gon hate him now…? He’s tainted…

“Killua!”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“Ki-“

“Killua…”

Everything hurts. His chest still burns, and the awful taste of acid lingers in his mouth. Oh...

He almost takes joy in realizing he ruined his makeup and dress, the stench of throw-up in the air.

“Hnnn… nnn..."

This is a cruel joke, even for the universe. It’s not. It can’t be Gon…

It smells like Gon… even through the copper of blood. Those eyes… are too much like Gons…

“Did they hurt you…?”

Gon’s fingers brush against his cheek all too softly, his voice all too sweet, as he brushes a lock of hair behind his ear. And Killua breaks in that moment.

A sob breaks clean from his throat, more a wail than anything.

He feels so weak, lifting his arm up, and letting his fingers leave a ghost of a touch against Gon’s cheek.

He has scars there too…

“A-are you an idiot…? Asking about me…?”

Selfish! Idiot!

“These?”

Gon takes Killua’s hand before it can fall into his lap, smiling as if nothing wrong.

“They don’t hurt.”

You haven’t changed at all…

But it makes Killua’s heart ache so much, he feels like he’ll die.

Gon is right here. Gon is right here. And he’s in Gon’s arms. But Gon is hurt…

Why does the universe want to hurt them…? It feels like it’ll tear them apart again.

It’s too much to bear. He buries his face into Gon’s chest, his frame shaking.

Just this moment…

Isn’t enough.

“Shh… shhh… it’s alright.”

But it’s not alright, stupid, Gon!

The universe hates them together so much… you’re hurt…

“They don’t hurt. Nothing hurt as much as not having my princess.”

Yours? How selfish.

But that’s just an empty and false thought.

He wants to be...

“You’re an idiot! I-I…”

He tugs away, looking up at Gon with glassy eyes.

“I’ll fight the stars for us, Killua.”

He shakes his head over and over, inhaling a shaky breath.

“It’s been seventeen years…”

He laughs though it's hollow and empty, those tears slipping past, Gon wiping them away so fast and yet gentle.

“It’s my birthday… you know…”

Gon always made him feel so warm.

All the way from the ends of his toes to the tips of his ears, crimson like the floor washed up in blood.

“…hold me…?”

Shy… timid… holding years' worth of everything.

Gon leans down, kissing the top of his forehead, tugging his lithe figure closer.

“Forever.”