#but i have a clearer view of what the next few chapters will be

[syrupyyyart]

Biggest folley of Motley and why it got so difficult for me to write was because I kept getting so caught up on trying to represent every aspect of their stories all at once anytime there were on screen, when really I need to remember that they are in fact Just Little Guys

[mushies-stories]

Akaza- I need you

Akaza X (F)Reader

Summary: Akaza was going to be gone for a few days and he just wanted to spend his time with you, in every way possible.

Warnings: SMUT! fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie. praise kink? Akaza sweet/dirty talk.

word count: 3199

Akaza leaned against the doorframe as you read, back against his chest and head leaning into the crook of his neck as you sat on the ground between his legs. You had a small candle to see the words and silently read to yourself as he looked from you to the night sky periodically. You told him just one more chapter, then you would give him your undivided attention. 

However if he wasn't mistaken you had just finished a chapter, going right past it onto the next page. It didn’t make him mad or really upset but he came to spend as much time with you tonight since he would be gone for at least a night or two and he Akaza wasn’t very fond of being away from you for too long. He hadn't told you so it wasn't your fault. His thoughts bounced around for a few minutes until his eyes scanned down your body. You only had a robe on and as you sat it had shifted enough to give him a teasing view of your breasts. Your hair was swept to one side and your neck was clear of any marks, Akaza didn't like that.

Leaning down Akaza inhaled your scent before softly kissing the side of your neck. “I'm sorry, I kept on reading, I got so engrossed and-” you attempted an apology as you closed the book, setting it beside you but Akaza cut you off by softly biting the soft skin below your ear. 

“I will be away.” he said between kisses and soft nips. “At least a night or two.” he said before sucking a spot he had just kissed, a small moan leaves you as your hand comes up to hold into the arm around your waist. He pulled away only to graze his teeth along the now tender spot like he was ready to bite into you. 

You wiggle in his hold that was slowly becoming more secure around you, not wanting to let you go. Your breathing was picking up and you felt your face becoming hot. “Akaza, why didn't you say that, I would have read it tomorrow.” you tried to pout but he continued his mission in marking your neck and you couldn't help the little gasps and whimpers that escaped when his fangs grazed along your flesh. 

Feeling satisfied for now with what he could manage at this angle he finally turned his brilliant golden eyes to you. “I was content for a while, just holding and being close to you.” he said in a gentle tone. “But if I'm around you too long, admiring you, then it makes me want more of you.” He confesses. 

His free hand came up to graze your cheek before traveling down to the color of your robe, he moved it apart enough so your breasts were fully exposed to him. Your head fell onto his shoulder when he started to grope and tease your nipples. You gasped when he pinched one and moaned when he did the same to the other. Akaza noticed how your thighs clenched and rubbed together. He smirked and slid the hand from your waist down to your thigh, slowly bunching up the fabric of your robe before pulling it aside, allowing him to see your pretty thighs and needy movements clearer.

Akaza continued to massage and grope your chest while his hand slid down to your thighs that parted just enough for his hand to slide through and reach your slick folds. “Sweet girl, already wet.” he cooed, sliding his middle finger to your tight hole,  just enough with the tip of his finger to make you whimper in anticipation for him to sink the digit into you and make you feel something other than his teasing. But he didn't, he continued to slide his finger to and from your needy hole to your clit.

Just when you were about to complain, tell him to stop teasing you, he pulled both hands away completely before taking hold of your thigh and pulling them apart then slings them over his own legs that surround you.  “Akaza!” you gasped as the cold night air hit your now fully exposed pussy. The collar on your robe fell off your shoulders, leaving your breasts in view as well.

He chuckled softly and brought his lips to your ear, biting your earlobe softly before whispering-”I want to see you cum, want to see your face while I make you cum over and over again.” his fingers were back to your pussy that was just getting wetter by his words. He already had a habit of making you cum more than once. But still, you weren't sure if you could keep up with his stamina if he really tried.“Can you do that for me, my good girl, cum as many times as I want?” he asked, middle finger slowly sinking into your core. 

Your eyes fluttered as you let out a shaky breath. “Yes Akaza, please.” you begged, needing him to do more, no longer able to handle how slow he was being. 

He hummed into your ear, pleased with your answer. His free hand held one on your thighs in place, slowly he started pumping his finger into you and you sighed softly with content at the much needed friction. He added another finger and pumped into you at a moderate pace, not slow but not fast enough to make you cum. 

It was like he had a sixth sense when it came to your mind and body. Everytime you wanted to complain he was just teasing you, that you needed more, he was doing just that. 

His fingers hit deeper and his pace picked up. You moan so close to Akaza’s ear that it sent a shiver down his spine. He loved your sweet sounds, every moan and whimper you made for him was intoxicating. He slowed down only to add a third finger and your hips jerked at the stretch. He let you adjust for a moment for he resumed to pump his thick fingers into you. It was starting to feel so good you couldn't keep still, back arching and hips jerking into his hand. 

Akaza's eyes watched as his fingers disappeared inside of your sweet hole. “Baby, sit still for me please.” He said, adding more pressure by pressing the palm of his hand down on your clit. The action did not help as the new pressure rubbed your clit with every thrust of his hand sending bolts of pleasure through you. 

You gasped and grabbed into both arms, hand laying on top of his forearms at an attempt at grounding yourself. Your hips don't listen as they jerk around in the demon's hand. 

“Oh little one, come here.” the hand on your thigh snaked up to wrap around your throat, not hard but his arm and hand bring you flush against his chest, head resting against the side of his neck so he can see as much of you as possible. “I need you to stay still for me, okay sweet girl okay?” his fingers curled into you as he pressed his palm into your mound, his other fingers flexed into your neck with light pressure. He continued to thrust and curl his thick fingers into your sweet spotYou gasped and squirmed but his arms and hands caging you kept you in place. 

It wasn’t long before the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out and your sweet breathy moans were filling the room. Your brain was growing foggy and you had a hard time forming a whole sentence. “Akaza~ Akaz-a feels good.” you gasped out when you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. 

His fingers never let up, he could feel the way your pussy was clenching around his fingers. “My sweet girl, pussy is fluttering. Do you need to cum?” Akaza whispers in your ear. When you didn't give him an answer he pressed his palm against your clit harder, grinding it into you as his fingers curled right into your sweet spot. The hand around your neck tightened again, enough for you to breathe and speak while keeping your head firmly between his neck and shoulder. 

You let out a needy whine. “Ye-yes Akaza please~” you managed to squeak out, his hand and fingers pushing you closer to the edge. 

He smiled softly to himself, pleased that you beg so easily for him to make you feel good. “Go on, cum on my fingers princess.” He encouraged you. Your juices were running down his fingers and all over his palm. His eyes flickered from your pussy and your face, lips parted and eyes half lidded as you. You were so close, just a few more intoxicating curls of his digits and you were gasping and gripping onto him for support as your legs began to shake. You pussy spasmed while Akaza maintained the pressure to your now throbbing clit. “That's it, you're so good for me my love.” he cooed as you slowly came down from your brief high. 

The hand around your neck came to rest around your middle, keeping you pressed against him. He removed his fingers and you let out soft groans at the loss of contact and the cool air hitting your heated core. 

You watched Akaza bring the hand that was just fucking into you to his lips, his tongue came out to lick up his palm and down his middle finger. He grounded and looked down at you with a sweet smile. “You taste delicious, sweet girl. I think I need more.” his head ducked down and licked your bottom lip. “Will you let me taste your pretty pussy?” his shattered eyes bore into your own, intense and he spoke so sweetly you felt yourself nodding and agreeing without a thought. 

With that he snatched your lips in a gentle kiss to only break away for a split second  while he readjusted you, bringing you to sit up facing him with your back to the night sky. He pulled back to admire you in the moonlight. Hair loose around you, robe disheveled and exposing your perfect body to him. 

You blushed under his gaze. “Akaza, what are you staring at?” 

With a sickening sweet smile Akaza brought a hand up to cradle your cheek in his palm. “You of course.” he leaned down and gave your other cheek a tener kiss, his other hand came to hold your side and urged you to lay back. You leaned back on your elbow as Akaza crawled over you, connecting your lips in another kiss, this one turning feverish as you laid back against the cool floor. Akaza’s soft lips found their way to the side of your neck, slowly trailing kissed down your bare chest. “Sweet girl, just perfect in the moonlight.” he complimented, gentle eyes looking up at you as you watch him continue to stream kisses down your breasts, he stopped at the tie still holding your robe around your middle and undid it with one hand, letting it fall completely open. 

You shivered as his kissing lowered to your navel and finally his arms came to wrap your legs over his shoulders, hands resting on the tops of your thighs to keep you in place as he nips you a few times on the inside of your thighs. You were completely ready for him, needing him to make you feel good again.

A hand came up to rest on the top of his pink hair as he dipped his chin down and flatten his tongue between your folds. His tongue swiping up and sucking your clit had you gasping for air, eyes fluttering as he continued to flick and suck your bud. “Akaza~” you moaned, Instantly getting lost in his touch. 

Akakza hummed and smiled to himself as he slid his tongue to your tight hole and slid inside, enjoying how you clenched around even his tongue. You gripped in his hair tightened as he continued to thrust his tongue into your pussy. A hand came down to rub circles onto your clit. 

He used his tongue to fuck your pussy, curling into and flickering along your slick walls as he abused your clit with his thumb. You were mumbling his name over and over like it was the only word you knew. Your legs shook around his head as he held you still, he could feel you pussy clenching. 

Your grip on his hair tightens as you feel your next orgasim rolling fast. With one last pathetic whimper of his name you were coming on his tongue. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched into Akaza’s face.

He groaned into your pussy as he lapped at you slick flowing for him. “So good my love, tastes so sweet, can't wait to fill you up.” he mumbles between soft licks. His last sentence caused you to let out a soft whine. Finally he lets you rest and catch your breath. He pulled back to kneel between your bent thighs, his cock was throbbing as he watched you lay all scrawled out and breathless. 

Once your head cleared you looked up at Akaza, amazed by his own beauty. You leaned up on one arm and brought the other to tug at the front of his pants. “Akaza, please.” you asked shyly. 

Without breaking eye contact Akaza pulled his pants down enough to let his cock spring out and hit his stomach. Your mouth began to water, wanting to taste him as you saw precum running down his cock. Akaza saw the look in your eyes but he knew he would lose it in a minute if he felt your soft lips around his aching cock now. “Lean back for me?” he asked, attempting to distract you from the goal that was growing in your eyes as you watched his cock twitch. 

You slowly looked up at him, a pout forming on your face. “But Akaza, you made me feel so good, can i just…” you trailed off, bringing your hand to take the base of his cock in your hand and stroke him gently. You loved how big he was, your hand could hardly fit around him. 

He choked out a soft groan at the contact. “Please my love.” he begged softly, looking at you with pleading eyes. “I want to feel you.”

Your heart fluttered. He made you dazed with one look and a simple plea. You nodded and let him climb over you as you laid back. His cock came to slide between your folds as he hovered above you, arms cageing you in on both sides of your head. 

A hand came to brush your hair back as the tip of his cock poked at your entrance. “Ready little one?” he asked, looking down at you with doting eyes. 

You shook your head and smiled. “Please Akaza, I want to feel you too.” you said, eyes half lidded with rosy cheeks as you looked back at him. 

Slowly he slid in with a breathy groan. “Always so tight, feels heavenly.” he managed to groan out as he pushed himself in slowly. You gasped and whimpered at the feeling, his cock always stretching you tell you feel like you couldn't take it. “That's it, almost there lovely, so good for me.” he praised, bottoming out in you. He let you catch your breath before he brought a hand down to circle your clit. 

You whined, the feeling of being so full and his finger abusing your sensitive nub had your head spinning. “Please move Akaza.” you whimpered out, needing him to finally fuck you. 

Akaza didn’t need any more prompting. He brought one hand down to bring a leg around his hips and he started with a slow pace, letting you get caught up with his massive size invading your body. He leaned down to capture your lips with his, kissing you slowly as his hips rocked into you. Your arms came to wrap around the back of his neck while you moaned into his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue in and explore. 

As his thrust got harder and the pace got faster he had to pull back, groaning at how tight you were squeezing him. “I can’t.” he panted, slamming into you. He was becoming just as pussy drunk as you were cock drunk. “Can't much longer…you feel so good my love.” 

You were a mess under him, holding onto him as his hips thrusted into you at a relentless speed. “Me t-too Akaza~” you moaned next to his ear. “Wanna cum Aka-za.”

You pussy was gushing with slick and precum, your bodies making lewd sounds into the quiet night. Akaza puts more pressure on your clit and his teeth graze the side of your neck. You cry out his name as your legs lock  around him, giving him little space as your pussy spasmed around his cock.

With his head buried in the crook of your neck he rutted his cock into you, feeling his own orgasim barraling at him. With a low moan he came hard and long, filling you so full you could only whimper as his cum leaked out and coated the base of his cock with both of your juices. “Such a good girl, taking all of my cum in your little pussy.” he cooed, watching your eyes flutter in an attempt to stay open. 

You were wrecked and your pussy was paulsing, slowly you let your legs fall from his hips and lean on the side of his body. Akaza leaned back to see the sight of his softening cock still buried in you, fluids leaking out around his girth. You both let out sounds of protest as he slid out, but his turned into groans of lust when he watched his own cum leak out of you in globs and make a mess with your slick on the floor beneath you. 

You shifted and sighed. It felt warm leaking down your ass and you loved it. “Akaza, you came so much this time.” you giggles, brain still hazy. 

He chuckled and lifted you into his lap. He sat cross legged and your own legs hung over his sides. You shuddered as he pulled you closer, arms wrapping around your back. You felt the mess of you both start to drip onto his cock that was now nuzzled between your folds. “I told you my love, I needed you.” he kissed your lips softly. 

You looked down at your bodies and the miss you both had made. “I'm going to need a good bath tonight.” you chuckled. 

Akiza's dick switched against your pussy. “You can have a bath, in the morning.” he said with a small smirk. “Tonight you're all mine and I'm not done making a mess of you.” he informed you, bringing his hands down to rest on your hips. He leaned in and caught your lips once again and you both quickly got lost in eachother. 

The bath could wait.

[firefirefruit]

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stupid Fucking Plan

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Raya holds her breath, her eyes flickering anxiously over the dark figure that looms behind the door. Zoro, who stumbles into a crouch, breathes warmly on her skin, his lips only a few millimetres away from the croon of her neck – and Raya can’t help but gasp in surprise to the sensation, her breath catching in her throat.

Aggressive knocks shudder against the wooden door, the floor vibrating with each knuckled thud; and any thought that was about to form in Raya’s mind dissipates with each trembling smack, worry lines creasing deeply into her forehead in its place.

“I know you’re in there,” Law snarls, his voice reverberating through the door and into the apparent darkness. “I swear, if you're making adjustments on Kikoku without my explicit permission, I'll rearrange your anatomy piece by piece."

Zoro scoffs, instantly parting his lips hurl out a retort, but before he does, Raya’s fingers immediately brush over his mouth in a tight clasp. With a warning in the glint of her eyes, she stares at Zoro as he almost teasingly tries close his lips in a slow, languid motion from beneath her skin.

They stare at each other, his hot breath kissing her cold fingers, the outline of his mouth forming into an invisible sculpture Raya can only dream of replicating in the dark corners of her workshop.

In an abrupt crescendo, another set of footsteps hasten toward the door, their hurried rhythm pounding against the wooden planks with an urgency that borders on desperation.

"Law," a voice pants out, the breath labored and nearly alarming in its intensity. Raya's eyes dart away from Zoro as she recognizes the voice, a surge of relief flooding through her. With a fierce effort to contain her emotions, she nudges Zoro aside from the porthole to gain a clearer view of what's happening outside, earning a grumble of protest from him in the process.

Nami takes a second to control herself before she pushes herself up from her knees. With a curious smile and a raised eyebrow, she takes in Law’s growling presence with ease. “My, my, Law - if we were boring you down there then you should’ve just said something.”

"No, Nami, you're not boring me," he snaps, his voice sharp and clipped. "I’m just trying to get my sword back. Raya’s had her for quite long enough."

Nami's attention flickers to the porthole, her eyes widening when they lock onto a shadowed Raya. For a second, her breath falters, her mouth slightly agape as she stares at the terrified swordsmith. In response, Raya gives a slow, careful shake to her head, mouthing out, “get him away!” to her.

Raya observes with keen interest as the gears of Nami's mind grind into motion, her astute instincts swiftly assessing the unfolding situation.

With a flick of her gaze, Nami pivots around to face Law, her body language a canvas of calculated nonchalance. With an exasperated sigh, she theatrically raises a hand to her face, her eyes wandering lazily to inspect her meticulously manicured nails. Each movement is deliberate, a carefully orchestrated display of indifference designed to mask the quicksilver calculations beneath the surface.

"Of course, Law," Nami replies smoothly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because we all know how much you love to micromanage."

Law's jaw clenches, his frustration evident even underneath the dim light of the moon. But before he can respond, Nami presses on, her voice taking on a note of distraction.

"But since I have you here," she says with a smirk, lifting her beer to her lips for a casual sip, "there's something I've been meaning to ask."

Law's brow arches slightly, his attention still fixed on the closed door as if he could bore a hole through it with his stare. "What is it?" he responds tersely, his tone edged with impatience, his hand poised as if ready to break through the barrier of the workshop's entrance.

Nami's gaze briefly shifts to Raya, a silent exchange passing between them before she presses on with her inquiry.

"I was just wondering," Nami begins, her voice dripping with faux innocence, "if you've had any success in tracking down that peculiar little coin you mentioned a while ago."

Law's expression shifts, a hint of suspicion creeping into his eyes as he turns to fully face Nami.

Nami innocently blinks, her fingers conspicuously toying with a small rounded object in front of her glass.

"What was it called again?" Nami muses. "Thrumble? Fumble? Timble?"

"It's a Triel," Law snaps, irritation evident in every line of his face. He crosses his arms and fixes his gaze on the glinting gold between Nami's fingers. "Is that the coin?"

Raya observes the exchange with bated breath, her muscles tensing as she awaits Nami's next move. Nami's fingers continue to toy with the small object in front of her, her gaze steady as she meets Law's stare head-on.

"Oh, I’m not sure," Nami says casually, her tone light but tinged with mischief, "I’m not a coin connoisseur, so I could be wrong."

A flicker of suspicion crosses Law's features, darkening his expression briefly before he quickly masks it with a neutral facade. "Then I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," he replies tersely, his tone clipped.

Nami's smile widens, her gaze briefly flickering to Raya before returning to Law. "Well, that's a shame," she says lightly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She stares dismissively at the golden coin in her fingers. “Might as well throw this in the sea, then.”

"No!" Law's outburst fills the room. Unable to contain himself any longer, he takes a step forward, his eyes fixed on the golden coin in Nami's hand. "Enough, Nami," he says, his voice low but firm. "Give me that."

Nami's smirk widens as she holds the coin just out of Law's reach, clearly enjoying the game she's playing. "Oh, so now you're interested?" she taunts, her tone teasing.

Law's jaw clenches, his patience wearing thin, like a frayed rope about to snap under tension. "Just let me see it," he demands, his voice a low growl as he reaches out to grab the curio from Nami's hand. But Nami, ever the elusive trickster, swiftly dances away, tapping a finger to her chin in mock contemplation. Her other hand extends over the ship's railing, the coin dangling tantalizingly close to the dark, churning waters below, as if mocking Law's futile attempts.

“You know... I think I saw some beautiful jewels back in your ship. It's a shame, really, for those to sink along with this odd little thing..." Nami's smirk widens mischievously, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Law's irritation bubbles to the surface, his frustration palpable in the air like a storm gathering on the horizon. "Fine," he grits out through clenched teeth, his voice a barely contained snarl. "Take the jewels. Just give me the Triel."

Nami's grin widens into a victorious smirk as she watches Law frown at her, her triumph echoing through the air like the triumphant cry of a victorious pirate queen. With a theatrical flourish, she grabs Law by the arm, her grip firm and unyielding.

"I’ll give it to you after you show me your beauties,” she sings triumphantly, her tone dripping with satisfaction, like a cat who's just caught the canary and is now relishing in its victory.

Without another word, Law turns on his heel and strides towards his broken ship, the weight of defeat heavy on his shoulders. Nami follows closely behind, her steps light and confident, relishing in her victory over the formidable captain.

“Well, I guess I won't be owing Nami any more favors,,” Raya mutters, breathing out in relief. “Looks like Law’s got that covered.”

Zoro, in response, takes a long, deliberate swig of his sake, the liquid burning a path down his throat. His gaze, once piercing and focused, now seems distant, disconnected from the world around him. With a silent, almost resigned sigh, he stumbles towards the stool, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy. Slumping heavily onto the seat, he slings an arm over its headrest, his posture reflecting a weariness that goes beyond mere physical exhaustion.

Zoro turns around to her, an eyebrow raised.

“What else do you needa do, then?” He impatiently grunts, his eyes clouding with indifference. He takes another long swig of his sake, as if attempting to drown out the taste of his own thoughts. “Would be great if I could go back and enjoy the rest of my night.”

Raya's stomach tightens at Zoro's sudden change in behavior. She swallows hard, attempting to quell the rising discomfort that threatens to overwhelm her. Is it surprise? Disappointment? Or perhaps... embarrassment? The thought causes her to bristle with indignation. Get yourself together, Raya.

She forces herself to focus on the task at hand, turning her attention back to the half-mended sword on the table.

"I just need to solder the pieces back together," she replies, her voice steady yet forced. "It's easy work."

Zoro grunts in acknowledgment, his gaze fixed on his sake as if it holds the secrets of the universe. His silence speaks volumes, a barrier between them that neither dares to breach.

The workshop is cloaked in an uneasy silence, broken only by the sizzle of molten metal meeting its counterpart. Raya's fingers move with practiced grace, the golden glow of her pointer finger illuminating the dim surroundings as she meticulously fuses the fractured pieces of Kikoku back together.

The silence in the workshop grows thicker with each passing moment, wrapping around Raya and Zoro like a heavy blanket. It's as if the air itself is charged with tension, crackling with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Raya can feel the weight of Zoro's gaze on her, but whenever she dares to steal a glance in his direction, he quickly averts his eyes, his expression guarded and inscrutable.

Just as the oppressive silence threatens to suffocate them both, Zoro's sudden movement breaks the spell. He rises from his stool with an abruptness that startles Raya, causing her to jump in her seat. With purposeful strides, he crosses the room and slams a drawing down in front of her.

As Raya examines the drawing, she realizes with a mixture of amusement and disbelief what Zoro has done. Instead of coloring the pirate ship in solid hues, he's filled the entire page with the word "swords" repeated over and over again, each one overlapping the next in a chaotic jumble.

Unable to contain herself, Raya bursts into laughter at the absurdity of it all. Zoro arches an eyebrow at her reaction, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Roronoa…" Raya manages between giggles, her laughter gradually subsiding as she meets his gaze. "You did not just turn a coloring page into a 'swords' manifesto."

“Hey, I coloured inside the lines,” Zoro retorts with a shrug, his smirk widening as he leans against the table. His eyes linger on the glow of Raya's hands as she meticulously mends the sword, a playful glint dancing in his gaze.

As Raya works, Zoro's gaze remains fixed on her, his eyes following the movement of her hands with a curious intensity. Eventually, he breaks the silence with a question that catches Raya off guard.

“Can I ask you something?” he murmurs softly.

With surprise, she looks up, her fingers pausing in the fast-paced momentum of her work. “Yeah?”

Zoro leans over the table as his fingers gently toy with his sake. “Do you ever... regret joining this crew?"

“Oh. I… don’t know,” she whispers. Her eyes remain on the sword in front of her, unwilling to look back at the swordsman. “Being here…it feels like home? In a sense, I guess? But… Every time I see you, it-it just flashes in my head...”

Zoro falls into a heavy silence, unsure of how to respond. His breath catches in his throat, a knot tightening in his chest with each passing moment.

Raya chews on her lips, fidgeting with her tools. “What about you? I know I haven’t… Don’t you sometimes wish I didn’t join the crew?”

Zoro's brow furrows as he considers Raya's question, his gaze flickering between her and the broken sword in front of them. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, the weight of her words sinking in.

"I won't lie, Tenguyama. I have," he admits, his voice low and measured. "Having you on board has... fucked things up. A lot. It’s been really shit. Like, really—”

“Okay, I think we get it,” Raya interjects, her glare meeting Zoro's with a fiery intensity. Yet, in the tension of the moment, a flicker of amusement passes between them, and before they know it, they're both chuckling softly.

“I get it,” Raya repeats, her voice softer, more earnest this time.

Zoro gazes at her for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, he averts his eyes and clears his throat. “But... still. No, I don't wish you hadn't joined the crew."

Raya's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You don't?"

Zoro shakes his head, his tone firm. "No. Despite everything, I think you belong here. You're strong.”

“I know I’m- “

“Yeah, I know you know that, too,” Zoro interrupts, folding his arms across his chest. He hesitates for a second before exhaling deeply. “And... I can’t lie. I might dislike you, but that’s also why I can respect you."

Raya dramatically sighs, as she feigns looking at her nails. “I’m not particularly fond of you, either, you know.”

Zoro offers a ghost of a smile, a rare moment of levity breaking through the tension between them.

"Well, at least we can agree on something," he mutters.

And then, as if summoned by the silence in the air, the workshop is assaulted once more by a furious pounding, the sound reverberating through the space like the thunderous roar of an approaching storm. Each thud sends vibrations coursing through the floorboards, rattling tools and trinkets alike, as if the very foundation of the room quakes with the force of Law's wrath.

Raya's head whips up with such force it threatens to dislodge from her neck. The urgency in Law's knocks jolts her from her reverie, sending a jolt of panic coursing through her veins.

Zoro's brow furrows as he turns to the door, surprise etched across his features. “He’s back already?”

“Raya, I swear to the Gods I will ‘room; myself into your workshop right now.”

The threat in Law's voice sends a shiver down Raya's spine, her heart rate pounding in her ears in response.

“Why hasn’t he done that yet, then?” Zoro mutters under his breath, his eyes narrowing in thought.

“That’s because I got Nami to slip in a few of my sea prism coins in his pockets,” Raya blurts out, her words tumbling out in a rush of desperation.

“Fuck,” she hisses. With trembling hands, she grabs the half-mended sword and frantically looks around for a hiding spot, her mind racing with panic. “Fuckfuck fuckfuckfuck fuck...”

The sound of Nami's voice echoes through the workshop, her urgent pleas mingling with Law's furious demands.

"Law, please," Nami begs, her voice strained with desperation. "You won’t want to see what’s happening in there."

Law's response is a series of loud thuds against the door, each one sending a jolt of fear through Raya's already frayed nerves.

"Raya!" Law's voice booms from the other side of the door, his tone sharp and commanding. "Open this door right now."

"Over there," Zoro instantly says, pointing to the floorboard. "It's our best shot."

Raya nods, relief washing over her as she silently tip toes to the corner and crouches to the floor. But before she can place Kikoku underneath the loosened planks, a sudden surge of power washes over the metal in her hands.

‘Revenge. Revengerevengerevenge Revenge. Revenge,’ It screams through Raya’s skull.

"What?" Raya mumbles in shock, her heart pounding in her chest.

She stares at the sword, her eyes widening as she feels the unmistakable thrum of Kikoku's presence reverberate through her veins. The sword seems to come alive in her hands, vibrating and rattling as if it possesses a will of its own.

And then, to Raya's astonishment, Kikoku begins to hover above her hands, defying gravity like some phantom apparition in the dim light of the workshop.

‘It is time. Itistime’

The sword aims its jagged end right in between her eyebrows, making Raya completely turn to stone.

And it slices.

SHING!

Kikoku doesn't rend skin or vein; it doesn't slice through flesh or muscle. Instead, its edge slices through the fabric of Raya's clothes like a sharp blade through silk, leaving behind a trail of torn fabric in its wake.

"What the bloody FUCK?" Raya's exclamation echoes through the workshop, a mixture of shock and disbelief coloring her tone. Her hair crackles with the static of her rising fury as she stares at Kikoku in sheer astonishment. “Are you being fucking serious right now, Kikoku?”

The shattered pieces of the sword seem to pulse with an otherworldly energy, vibrating with an intensity that sends shivers down her spine, as if they're responding to some unseen force, perhaps the very presence of Law outside the door.

With wide, disbelieving eyes, she lowers her gaze to her clothes, now rent in twain by the sword's inexplicable power. The fabric hangs in tatters around her body, leaving her skin exposed to the chill of the workshop air.

"What’s happening?" Zoro's voice hisses from a distance, carrying a sense of urgency that matches the pounding of Law's footsteps outside.

"I-I don't know," Raya stammers, her hands trembling as she tries to make sense of the inexplicable movement of Kikoku. "Kikoku... she moved on her own."

Zoro's eyes widen in alarm, his swords at the ready as he scans the workshop for any signs of imminent danger. "We need to hide," he commands urgently, his voice barely above a whisper yet filled with authority. "Now."

Raya shakes her head, her gaze unwavering as she meets Zoro's eyes. “I have a better plan. You won’t like it, Roronoa, but it’s our last chance.”

Zoro's jaw clenches, his expression tense with skepticism. "Do it."

Raya acts on instinct, slamming the loosened plank over the hissing Kikoku before hastily making her way to the safety of her work desk. She sits down abruptly, pulling Zoro towards her with a sense of urgency.

“This is so fucking stupid,” she whispers hastily, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, each beat echoing the urgency of their situation. “So fucking stupid it might actually work.”

Before Zoro can respond to her cryptic statement, she releases the fabric that clings to her body in limp strands, allowing it to slip over her bare shoulders like cascading silk, revealing her skin to the dim light of the workshop. The fabric unravels itself before her chest, revealing the subtle curves beneath.

Zoro stumbles backward, caught off guard by the sudden display, finding himself in between her legs with a mix of shock and bewilderment. His eyes widen, scanning the scene before him, unable to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

“What the fuck are you doing, Tenguyama?” Zoro immediately hisses, his voice laced with disbelief. He looks down to Raya, his gaze momentarily lingering on her exposed form before snapping away, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. In a futile attempt to regain his composure, he awkwardly snaps his head upwards to the ceiling, as if seeking refuge from the awkwardness that surrounds them.

As the fabric slides from her shoulders, a rush of cool air kisses her skin, prompting a soft gasp to escape her lips. Raya's gaze meets Zoro's, and in that vulnerable moment, she discerns a myriad of emotions flickering across his rugged features.

There's a flash of shock, evident in the widening of his eyes, mingled with a hint of mortification that colors his cheeks with a subtle flush. Confusion knits his brow, adding a layer of complexity to the scene unfolding between them.

Yet, beneath the surface, there's something primal, something untamed stirring within the depths of his gaze— hunger.

She watches as Zoro's gaze flickers, his jaw clenching, his muscles tensing, in a futile attempt to mask the hunger that simmers just beneath the surface.

As the door to the crow’s nest crashes down, the thunderous sound echoing through the chamber, a surge of adrenaline courses through Raya's veins. Without hesitation, she reaches for Zoro, her fingers finding purchase on his neck, pulling him close as if drawn by an invisible force.

In a heartbeat, her bare legs encircle his torso, their bodies now intimately intertwined in a dance of urgency and anticipation.

Zoro's suppressed grunt resonates through the air in response to Raya’s tug, a low rumble that reverberates through her bones. His muscles coil beneath his skin, tense and ready, as he leans in closer to Raya. Their eyes lock in a silent exchange, the space between them charged with anticipation, each heartbeat echoing loudly in their ears.

“Close your eyes,” Raya's voice is a breathy command, laden with urgency and a hint of desperation. “It has to be believable.”

Zoro closes his eyes immediately and presses his forehead against hers. His breaths against her cheeks feel softer than before as his fingers come up to angle her chin to his lips.

He pauses in that spot, soft, plush lips angled up towards lips, his fingers smoothening across the nape of her neck like a sculpture, two brown eyes desperately searching for his.

And there he is, the Surgeon of Death himself, striding purposefully into the workshop as if he owns the place.

But the moment his eyes land on the scene before him, his confident gait comes to an abrupt halt.

Zoro, ever the intimidating presence, looks up from Raya's gaze, his expression a mix of defiance and annoyance as he locks eyes with Law. His fingers remain firmly planted against Raya's jaw, a silent warning to the intruding captain.

"What’s your problem?" Zoro snarls, his tone dripping with disdain as he challenges Law's unexpected interruption.

Law, usually quick with a retort, finds himself at a loss for words. His eyes widen in embarrassment as he takes in the compromising position of his crewmates. He clears his throat awkwardly, his cheeks rushing with incredible heat.

"I-I’m..." he stammers, his voice cracking under the weight of his embarrassment. He gestures wildly with his hands, as if searching for an excuse to flee the scene. "I-"

Zoro raises an eyebrow incredulously, his eyes narrowing even further into menacing slits.

“This room’s occupied,” Zoro spits out. And with his darkening eyes locked on Law, Zoro slightly brushes his lips across the corner of Raya’s mouth, his other hand curving over her waist. “You should go.”

“Yes,” Law quickly shouts out, his face remaining as neutral as possible. “I’m going now. Goodbye.”

And he makes a hasty retreat, practically lunging his entire being outside of the crow’s nest. As the door slams shut behind him, the room is engulfed in a heavy silence, broken only by the faint sound of Law's hasty footsteps echoing down the hallway, leaving behind a lingering sense of awkwardness and disbelief.

And the enveloping silence, Raya still has her arms around Zoro’s neck.

Their breaths mingle with each other, chests heaving with the remnants of panic and surprise. And when Raya finally looks up to Zoro, her breath gets caught up in her throat - because when she sees him, she fails to recognise the man that’s laying in between her legs.

A man with not only softness in his gaze, but of dark hunger.

“Stupid fucking plan,” Zoro grumbles, breaking the silence with a rough exhale that ruffles Raya's hair, his words a harsh echo of their earlier sentiment. The scent of alcohol lingers on his breath, almost making Raya wanting to taste it on her own tongue.

Raya breathes out a sharp laugh, warmth reaching her cheeks. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Zoro falls silent, staring at the girl who has her arms and legs wrapped around him.

He can’t. He can’t do this, he says to himself.

He has to resist it. All of this. He can control himself, of course he can. He’s a fucking swordsman, for Christ’s sake. All he needs to do is pull away and unwrap her bare legs from his torso. All his fingers need to do is to curve over the softness of her thighs and press downwards.

He stares at the infuriating swordsmith entangled in their feigned embrace, his jaw clenching even tighter.

All he needs to do is to pull away and walk it all off.

Her lips. Her eyes. Her skin.

Maybe take a cold shower while he’s at it, too.

Her warmth. Her fire.

And he unravels.

He slams his lips against hers, hungrily moving in sync to her furious gasp. It's not a gentle, tender kiss, no; rather, it's fuelled by bitterness and fury, an eruption of pent-up frustration and overwhelming desire.

With each movement, their mouths clash together like steel against steel.

Zoro's grip on her tightens, his touch bordering on bruising as he seeks to overpower her with the intensity of his desire. His teeth graze against her lips like a warning, a growl rumbling deep in his throat.

Raya meets his aggression with defiance, her own lips pressing back with equal fervour, a silent challenge crossing through her movements. She refuses to yield, matching his every move with a ferocity that borders on reckless abandon, licking his lips with soft, teasing flicks that makes Zoro growl even louder. What a stupid fucking plan.

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter three.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 3.5K

Chapter Summary: Three months have passed since awakening from your coma. Erwin Smith has finally come to visit Trost to discuss your future in the Scout Regiment.

Warnings: Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Eventual Romance, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Flashbacks, Friends to Enemies to Lovers

( Read on AO3 )

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER THREE.

Three months come and go.

Pieces of what once was before — what you think your life might have been — come crawling towards your subconscious in abstract visions.

Day dreams, lucid dreams, nightmares — every time you hold an object in your hands that should feel foreign; every time you savor a food that was never new in the first place; every time you step outside to greet the morning sun, you can feel it in your mind’s eye:

A life just out of reach.

You insist on spending as much time outside of the medical wing as Doctor Rini will allow. At first the reluctant agreement from the older man rides on your willingness to use a wheelchair in case of an emergency dizzy spell. They come and go in waves for the first week, but after that initial wave, it never comes back. In no time you switch to an assistance cane, but it barely gets any use.

When you prove you can be steady on your feet then you’re cleared to stay outside for as long as you like.

You bask from morning light to sunset.

The sun glitters over the leaves of trees. It illuminates the stone walls of Trost. It warms the wooden benches you sit upon and cools them in its absence.

You never want to forget what the sun feels like again.

You refuse to.

Albeit abstract, two distinct memories have played like a broken record on repeat, chipped at the edges and worn from time. Over and over the record plays until blurry details become sharper. The feelings become images, the images become clearer, and soon?

Just like Captain Levi’s voice in your head, you hear them — the conversations, the laughter, the voices of people you once knew buried somewhere at the base of your neck, their significance filed away in your bones.

Memories of the Underground City are fleeting but, so far, remain the strongest.

For the first few weeks, you spend your time focused on that one feeling discovered in tandem with your conversation with Commander Erwin: damp. The feeling of cold, chillingly so; disembodied shouts of strangers and the ache of bruised knuckles disrupt your slumber.

Every time the yelling gets too loud, you wake.

Until he appears.

One night a boy — small and meek and faceless — materializes in a dream. He's the first tangible object to look at after a month of colors and sounds.

The little boy sits beside you on a wooden bench floating in a vat of darkness, head-bowed. His mangled dark hair cascades his face from view.

He never looks up.

At first you think it's a fluke, but then he shows up a second time. A third.

You’ve tried talking. You’ve tried shouting. 

You never hear your voice echo in this space.

From that point forward, the boy always shows in your dreams about the Underground.

Most of the time he sits without anything in his bruise-battered hands. Sometimes he’ll hold a potato, half gone and rotting. He doesn’t eat it.

But there is that one time: once where he held a loaf of stale bread in an outstretched hand, bridging the gap between you.

This time you’re standing, not sitting, on the bench.

“Can I… sit?” you ask as he leans in to take a timid bite of the bread. The boy pauses, face still obscured from view.

Contemplating.

He slowly nods as if that’s all the energy he has left, so you sit beside him. You cautiously take the loaf of bread from his hands to break it in half.

For what feels like hours you sit beside this strange quiet boy, happy not to be alone in this dream-like state. He continues to eat his portion, plucking pieces with slender, skeleton-like fingers. You can’t look away.

Until a shout scares the both of you out of your skin. A masculine voice rings out, singing a languageless drinking song at the bar eons away. You can only make out the fact that he’s tall.

“Is… that your dad?”

You’re not sure why you asked.

You’re not sure why you assumed.

The boy continues to pick apart what’s left of the little loaf.

You turn your chin to squint towards the drunk tirade, determined to make a new discovery of another solid body, until—

“Is that your mom?” the boy asks in a small croak.

You whip your attention back to him, but the boy no longer exists.

A grotesque woman has taken his place at your side, her face haunted with sullen sockets and thinned teeth.

You jolt in your cot, gasping for air as the darkness surrounding you thins from its thickness to the reality you’re left in: the private room Doctor Rini has moved you to adjacent to the medical wing, plain and cool and safe.

You never see that woman ever again.

The boy leaves for a little while, too, but not all of your dreams are so lonely.

Sometimes there’s laughter, too. Lots of it. Cheering and singing from blurry faces burrowed in a crowded room makes your days feel safe.

Albeit faceless, you note little things: someone fixes their glasses a little too much when they talk; the fiery mop of hair resting on your shoulder as you clean dirty dishes; the touch of a reassuring hand on your arm.

These melodic voices only call you by your last name — is that a cognitive coincidence? Did everyone used to only call you by your last name?

You can’t tell if the people you see are from the Underground or the Scouts, but in these daydreams you can recognize yourself, if only a little: the pride in your face, youthful and headstrong while staring into the mirror where an emerald green cloak encases your body. Ivory trousers. Never-ending swirls of brown leather straps.

The Scout Regiment emblem.

Although Doctor Rini refuses to unearth you your original uniform — he claims you're not ready, even if you could never wear the thing again after how battered the accident left it — your body itches for the tan jacket to cover your back.

(Like the wings of freedom belong there.)

By the second month, you start to run. In circles, up and down stairwells, wherever you’re allowed; Trost District is vast, and despite your limitations on where you’re sanctioned to go, you push and push and push—

You want to keep going.

Beyond Trost. 

Beyond Wall Rose.

Beyond the Walls.

(You start to wonder if, in another life, that was all you ever wanted.)

Your hands itch to do something — to hold the handle of a freshly-drawn sword, to tinker with the mechanics of ODM gear, to venture into the stables and grasp the reins of a horse.

Sitting idle and wondering when your memory will return is no longer a viable option. Not when doing, seeing, feeling, produces your best results.

Maybe nothing in this world makes complete sense. Maybe you’ve only built the corner of the puzzle’s outline in your mind’s eye. Maybe you’ll never fill in every gap ever again.

Still — you want to try.

By the third month, you ask Doctor Rini for the location of Commander Erwin Smith’s office. To your dismay, Erwin and his army are nowhere to be found. They’re off visiting what could be the potential pool of candidates of the 104th Cadet Corps.

The good doctor, however, was kind enough to send word to Erwin of your request to meet with him when he’s able.

It takes two agonizing weeks for the Scout Regiment to return to Trost.

“James!"

It’s Nurse Phillipa’s voice that greets you in the courtyard, a place where you’ve taken a liking to exerting yourself during the daytime. Here you’ve trained by yourself for weeks now — between running drills and trying to remember hand-to-hand combinations against malnourished trees, you think your practiced pitch to the Commander may have a leg to stand on.

(A pitch, really, that only an insane person would come up with.)

"He’s back," she adds, sweet and soft.

You stop dead in your tracks, out of breath and drenched with sweat.

“The Commander?”

Nurse Phillipa nods with a gentle smile. “You may wish to clean up before you visit him.”

Your wrapped hand pushes matted baby hairs from your face. “How much time do I have to meet him?”

“Well,” the older woman begins, “I’m not quite sure. Commander Erwin is a busy man—”

“I’ll go now,” you decide, hopping down from your makeshift training perch to walk towards the entrance of Trost headquarters.

“Go now?” she repeats, aghast. “But you aren’t decent!”

No, you’re not, by any stretch of the imagination — you’re dressed in a dirty, drenched tank top and a pair of borrowed trousers. Your boots are scuffed with dirt from the courtyard field and laced with little care.

You cannot find a reason to care.

“I can’t run the risk of missing him.”

“At least clean up a little before—”

“James.”

Your name on the edge of a deep, familiar voice causes you to freeze. Spine straight and shoulders square, you turn on a heel and lift your chin with immediate respect. A tall blonde man stands on the opposite end of the courtyard in a full-length, forest-green trench coat, both hands hidden in deep its pockets.

It takes every ounce of willpower not to smile.

“Commander, sir.”

“At ease.” Erwin Smith hums with approval, removing his left hand to raise and gesture towards you. “You look well.”

“Thank you. I feel well. Better than the last time we met.”

“I'm sure that feels like a lifetime ago.” He nods his chin towards Nurse Phillipa. “Good afternoon, Nurse Phillipa. I received Doctor Rini’s letter and came as soon as I was able."

"I only just notified her of your arrival," Nurse Phillipa tells him.

"Yes, she seems rather preoccupied.”

He means you. Your shoulders drop a fraction in height. “I was trying to make use of my time before your arrival. They said it would take two weeks for you to return to Trost.”

“Your time was meant to be spent resting,” Erwin reminds.

“And I did,” you reassure. “I rested. A lot. I was cleared by Doctor Rini to train. Movement felt better than sitting around doing nothing, sir.”

Erwin regards you with a sidelong glance as he turns on the heel of his boot.

“Do you mind taking a break, then, to converse with me in my office?”

“Now?” You’ve never unraveled your hand wraps so fast. “Sure. Yeah. I can meet with you now.”

“Good.”

You can feel the horrified gaze of Nurse Phillipa creeping up your sweat-slicked back, but you don’t give her a moment’s rest. Head bowed, you quickly follow Erwin as he steps towards the building and down an empty hallway. You wipe the sweat from your brow and pocket the hand wraps, mindful of the hair clinging to your face in a hasty brush before clasping your hands behind your back.

This, by no means, is how you saw this meeting going.

That being said, you can’t imagine the Commander of the Scout Regiment would be wholly sensitive to prim and proper attire when there are bigger fish to fry.

He keeps his back to you, wordless as he walks, and eventually settles his hand on one of two large oak doors. Erwin pushes wide, stepping into a sterile office space. You follow suit.

“Close the door, please.”

You oblige, detaching your hands to press the wooden door to a clicked close.

“You were training quite hard out there,” Erwin says, dropping into a leather chair behind a desk. He gestures briefly with a hand towards the smaller chair sitting opposite of him.

Quickly you cross the room to accept his offer. “I… wanted to be prepared for your return. Doctor Rini told me you were observing the 104th Cadet Corps?”

“I was.” Erwin’s elbows gently kiss the surface of the mahogany desk. “Our newest batch of recruits in the Southern Branch appear promising.”

“That’s good news.”

“Whether they join the Scouts is another subject entirely. Garnering numbers can be difficult.”

“I’m not surprised,” you tell him, shifting in your chair with an honesty you’re not quite sure you should offer. “From what I remember, everyone always used to think the Scouts were just the adrenaline junkies looking to get killed.”

Erwin’s brow quirks. “And what did you think?”

“About the Scouts?” He nods his chin once. “I’ll admit, I… don’t remember my time training in the cadet corps.”

“I imagine you wouldn’t,” he reasons, and you sit up taller, “seeing as you never trained with them.”

Your eyes round ever so slightly. “I didn’t?”

“James, may I ask how much of your memory has returned since we last spoke?” he asks instead, bypassing your question with his own.

Another mystery for another day, it seems.

Your tired hands settle in your lap. “Considering the window of three months, sir, I would say a lot has returned. Emotions, images, though candidly I will admit nothing substantial fits quite yet. I have a lot of pieces, but I just need that spark to put the framework together.”

It’s likely not the answer he wants to hear, but you can’t lie. Not when he knows you.

(When he knows so many people who may be able to corroborate your truths.)

“I see,” he says. “I must say your status within the Scout Regiment has been widely debated on our latest expedition.”

Your fingers toy and fidget over one another out of nerves. “My status, sir?”

He hums. “Whether or not you would be inclined to join, or if you would even want to after going through such a traumatic experience.”

“Commander Erwin, I—”

“I’m inclined to discuss honorable discharge.” 

Before you can seal off your emotions from the naked eye, your face falls. 

Honorable discharge means you’re stuck behind the Walls forever. Honorable discharge means you can live a quiet life, a full life, when yours almost got cut entirely too short.

Safe.

You may not remember much, but you know one thing: you don’t want safe.

Erwin’s chair squeaks when he shifts it just so, breaking you from your spiraling worry. “But… it appears my theory rings true.”

Wait.

“Your theory, sir?” you return in a small croak.

“I had a feeling you would dislike such a suggestion.”

Your eyes round.

A chance.

He’s giving you a chance to argue your final plea.

“Greatly,” you admit in a rushed breath, and he smirks. “Actually, Commander, I have had a lot of time to think about what it means to once have been a Scout and the life I used to lead and had a suggestion of my own, sir — if you’re willing to listen.”

Then he says the most wonderful thing in his deep, baritone voice.

“I’m all ears, James.”

Showtime: whether he appreciates your plan is neither here nor there, but the Scouts have so little to wager. Erwin cannot stand to lose.

(Just like you. Just like the rest of the Scouts.)

“Put me through training again.”

There is an indiscernible glint in the commander’s eye. 

“Again?” he clarifies.

“Yes.” You lean forward in your chair, gripping the arm rests. “You said I didn't go through traditional training? For whatever reason it was chosen to be that way, fine, but we have a chance to do it properly this time." You draw in a short inhale for your speech. "The memories that have come back to me revolve around only two things: where I grew up and where I ended up. I’ve been sitting on the sidelines with Doctor Rini and Nurse Phillipa who know next to nothing about me. The Scouts, however, do. We served together. I almost died for them. Theoretically, it would make the most sense to put me back through training like any other recovering soldier still fit for action. Start from scratch with the cadets, make it modified, whatever you see fit, but it could work.”

(It could give you your entire life back.)

It’s a hopeful, perhaps even a foolish crusade, but you want to try.

Once the silence settles Erwin hums, neither positive or negative, and leans back in his chair. 

“What if putting you through training only worsens your health?”

“Then you discharge me and I’ll figure it out from there,” you tell him, “but starting small sounds like the best place to start — sir.”

He sighs, soft and short, before standing. You quickly jump to your feet to follow, shoulders squared and chin tall.

“I’ll give you one thing, James: you have guts.” Erwin tilts his head. “Most soldiers would take the offer of an honorable discharge after going through something as traumatic as memory loss. I’m glad you remain the person I was proud to serve with.”

Warmth floods your system, but you forcefully swallow the smile threatening to project your pride at his statement. Proud to serve with; you were honorable.

(You were worth something.)

“May I ask you something?” he asks after a beat has passed.

You nod. “Anything, sir.”

Erwin looks you dead in the eye.

“Has Captain Levi come to visit you since our initial visit?”

Your blood, once thrumming with praise, runs cold.

Captain Levi — one of the alleged keys to your recovery — has never once stepped foot in this hospital. No letters, no mentions in passing, no walk-by’s from the open door of the wing. In the last three months, the only visitors to your bedside have been Doctor Rini, Nurse Phillipa, and Erwin Smith. 

Yet you remember him in detail to the point of scary accuracy, as if your mind won’t let him go.

“No, sir,” you answer, dropping your gaze to the desk.

“Hmm.” As if Erwin expected to hear the opposite. “We returned over two weeks ago from the expedition. I assumed he would have at least attempted once.”

“You were surveying the cadet training, sir.”

“I was,” Erwin confirms, “but he wasn’t.”

You ignore the droplet of sweat dragging down to the slope of your neck. “I don’t think he finds it beneficial to his busy schedule, Commander.”

This is a waste of time.

Levi’s voice still echoes like a ghost possessed to you.

“Well, I do have someone who is interested in seeing you,” Erwin states, leaving the captain to rot on an abandoned file in your mind. “Several, actually, have been asking.”

You perk at the good news, blinking up to the tall blond. “Several?”

“Your old squad. If you’re interested in meeting them, then we can look into starting from the basics. Once we find you a temporary cot and discuss your enlistment — in this case, we’ll use the advantage of the cadet training camp — then go from there.” 

Erwin pauses, sliding a manilla paper with a monochrome painting of a bright-eyed woman.

“For the time being, your handler will be Petra Rall. Petra was a close ally to you when you served with the Scouts and has already volunteered to be your guide should you return to the Survey Corps. We can rendezvous at the old scout headquarters so you can meet her and get your bearings, then cart you to train with some of our future potentials.”

You drag the file towards you with two fingertips, curious. Petra’s face feels… inviting. Happy. You smile at nothing in particular when you look at her.

(Is that a sign? Will it all flood back when you meet?)

“—I will be forward with you, James: this will not be easy,” Erwin continues. “Your aptitude tests for dexterity and ODM gear handling must be superb. You’re already ahead of where I would have liked you to be for combat training. Hand to hand, weapons, familiarizing yourself with new technology and titan-repellent devices. I’m going to need you to show to the Commandant that my bet on you is not in vain.”

This is really happening.

You beam proudly at the Commander, smiling widening with every passing beat.

“I won’t let you down, sir,” you promise with everything in you.

“I know,” is all Erwin replies. He blinks to the office door. “Pack any belongings or items approved by Doctor Rini to bring with us. We leave at sunrise tomorrow. You’ll ride with me.”

You could take another lap, perhaps several, around the courtyard.

“Sir. Yes, sir.” Your hand raises to salute him, but you falter before you can reach your chest. “I’ll get started right away with that and meet you in the morning.”

“Good.”

Erwin doesn’t dismiss you beyond that, so you leave his office composed long enough to round a corner. As soon as you're out of sight, you sprint down the hallway with a shining grin on your face.

Hope.

For the first time in three miserable months, all you focus on is this feeling of hope.

Author's Note: Erwin is such a babe. I promise Levi comes back in the next chapter -- and we get to meet some familiar Scout faces! I appreciate anyone who has liked, reblogged, or sent me a message about this story. I've enjoyed writing it so much, and I hope you enjoyed this update!

[soka-writes-things]

04. tragedy and betrayal

𝖊𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝖘𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬

❝ 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀? ❞

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 a senator decides her life needs a bit of spice so she embarks on an adventure. unwillingly, of course.

the bad batch x fem!oc

all seasons

in progress

All Rights Reserved to me

back - next

chapter four!

04. tragedy and betrayal

ONLY TWO DAYS had passed since Soka was forced into a jail cell and told that her trial would be coming soon. She trusted that Joqin had met with Senator Chuchi the morning after her arrest, but it still didn't quell the unease within her.

She paced around her cell, her skin a sickly pale pink to reflect her current state of mind. She was scared, of course. How couldn't she be when her life seemed to fall down the drain within just a day?

Before she could dive deeper into the rabbit hole of her mind, a guard appeared in front of the lasers of her cell. "Your trial." The guard told her, not bothering to clarify.

Soka's face and heart dropped. This is the moment where the senate would decide if she had truly committed treason, and since half of the senate didn't favour her political stance, she was sure they would say yes. 

The guard unlocked her cell and cuffed her as she followed him to the senate court, her body in a daze. She barely registered arriving to the senate and only regained awareness of her surroundings when they pushed her into a pod and brought her to the middle of the room.

Minutes passed from her arriving and the entire time was spent with her being stared at like an animal in a cage. Rampart finally arrived, his sickly smirk already on his face. 

"Senator Sokanara Tanobi." He said loudly, his voice booming throughout the room. "It seems.. you have committed treason." Hushed whispers and haughty smirks scattered across the senate and Soka stood numbingly still as she listened to it all.

A hologram rose next to Rampart and grew in size until it was big enough for everyone in the senate to see it. The hologram was of her talking to a group of blurry clones, her back to the holovideo. Her voice was faintly heard, and spiked in random intervals.

"Desertion... Empire... Join... Against... Senate..." were a few words of the many she spoke, but they were the ones that were heard clearer to the senate. Soka watched as the hologram of herself hugged a clone and exchanged codes with Rex, though his face was blurred and dim due to 79's lightings, thank the maker, and then her body turned into full view of the hologram and she left 79's while talking to Joqin about hacking imperial files. Soka's face burned in embarrassment as she watched the past version of herself, blissfully unaware of the person that had been stalking her. 

She knew that this hologram had been tampered to only pick up the pieces of information that would be used against her, but this was physical proof against her, something she did not have unless she brought the clones in to testify. Which she would never do as that would put them in danger. 

Rampart smirked as the holovideo ended and the hologram retreated into its projector. "You saw how she spoke to those clones, convincing them to join her in her treason against the Empire!" The whispers that had been hushed during the holovideo returned in full force. She heard some fighting for her, while others expressed their want for her to be executed.

Soka's eyes widened and she shrunk in her seat as she watched senators that she thought she knew turn their back on her. The only strong trust she had was in Senator Organa and Senator Chuchi, and she knew that would never be enough.

"We will cast a vote!" Rampart started to say, but Soka sat up quickly in her seat, a protest slipping past her lips before she could think. Rampart turned to her, head cocked in an arrogant manner. 

"Do you wish to speak to the senate and plead your case?" He asked, no heart in his tone.

Soka opened her mouth but nothing came out in her defense. Rampart nodded, "That is what I thought."

He turned back to the senate once more and Soka dwindled in her seat, her heart in her hands and she twisted it into an unrecognizable mess as Rampart opened the votes. 

Five minutes passed and the harsh whispers seemed to finally die down as the votes were finalized.

A hologram projected two colors, blue and red. The red side had more votes than the blue. 

The senate found Soka to be guilty.

...Guilty?

Soka's vision tunneled in on the numbers and her world seemed to be caving in on her. Her ears buzzed loudly and she clenched her jaw, crushing the scream that bubbled in the back of her throat.

She was guilty of a charge that she didn't even commit. 

She suppressed the urge to puke, her hands grasping at her chest and trying to pry it open so she could rip out her heart and stop the emotions that she was feeling.

Her life was over and it felt like she had barely started it.

Tear drops fell from her eyes as she stared blankly at the hologram.

How could it have come to this?

How did I... lose?

She turned her gaze to find Organa in the crowd of jeering Senators. He was already staring at her sadly. 

'I'm sorry," his eyes cried to her. He looked at her as though she were a piece of glass resting on a pedestal, and he was too far away to catch her as the cosmos trembled around them, intent on causing her to fall.

Truly, a tragedy.

Her eyes drifted to Chuchi, who looked about ready to leap from her pod and smash Rampart in the face. The fire in Chuchi's stare was the final straw. There was no coming back from this.

Soka breathed in deeply, strengthening her resolve, and with her heart shattering loudly in her chest, she turned away from the Senate for the final time.

She let herself be lead out from the building to where they were going to bring her back to the imperial jail. It seemed her sentence was predetermined, like they knew she would fail.

You betrayed the Senate and the Empire, they had told her, being in jail is the best sentence you could get. 

She didn't betray the Senate. She didn't betray anyone. 

But she knew from Rampart's smug smile, there was she could do nothing about it.

ᯓ★

okay please dont yell at me guys, i know this chapter is awfully short, but i wanted to have the "trial" be it's own chapter. and i know i was gone for a LONG time, but i swear i have a good excuse. 

exam season is TIRING so i had to have a break from may-june in order to study (i got good grades tho so yippee) and then summer break hit me like a ton of bricks and i just didn't have it in me to create, so i decided to use that as a mental break. now that school is back in, ive gotten some motivation to write again (instead of doing hw, classic) and wanted to begin to finish the first arc of soka's story. (which is her backstory if u havent guessed yet.)

in the upcoming chapters we might get to see more of rex 👈(ﾟヮﾟ👈) and finally the official start for the reason for creating this (THE BAD BATCHHHH ASKJKDJAKSJ) and i swEAR u guys will start to enjoy this story a lot more lolol.

anyways go get some water and catch a break if u havent already, and remember that u are loved <3

imma go pop some fidgets now, toodles (≧∇≦)ﾉ

(also i had just realized i had updated this on my other platforms but not tumblr LMAO SORRY)

taglist: @callsign-denmark, @goose-nest, @molethemollie

if you want to be tagged, just comment your username below and say "i want to be tagged"

[luimagines]

That Dragon Au Part 7

I had forgotten how slow going this story is. ^.^*

@cafecourage

Masterlist

First Chapter/ Previous chapter/ Next Chapter 

Content under the cut!

Chapter 7: Breakfast Time

Enno woke up and took a deep breath. They stretched and felt like they were actually well rested for a change. And then they noticed Warrior was not in the bed.

They instantly tensed up and looked around, not seeing him anywhere. They put down Wind gently and got out of bed looking to see if there was a note or something.

"Over here, Love." Warrior calls out to them softly. He was sitting at his desk. It no longer looks like chaos and he appeared to be working on something.

Enno nearly jumped out of their skin, "God- my heart." 

They put their hand on their chest to calm their heart. They headed over to him and gave him a kiss. 

Warrior smiles into the kiss and pulls back. "Sorry, I should have warned you that I tend to wake up early anyway."

"You don't stop, do you?" They sighed, holding their head on top of his. Enno grunted slightly and huff, keeping their voice quiet for the boy still sleeping in the bed. "I forgot to do something yesterday and couldn't do it while Wind was between us."

"What did you forget to do, Love?" Warrior asked softly, careful to still not wake up Wind.

Enno looked down and noticed that he was drawing something, something that looked awfully familiar now that they thought about it. Enno started playing with his hair, trying to do the same thing that they did yesterday while they were experimenting with the whole claiming thing that dragons do. 

"Nothing really, just something I should have done right away." They nuzzled their face in his hair before turning to his paper. "What-cha drawing? Me and Wind?"

Warrior was calming from their touch before he perked up and flopped over the desk. "I ummm.... yeah..."

He pulls back and shows them with a clearer view to the paper underneath his arms. He seemed to be drawing a fairly realistic charcoal picture of them and Wind asleep next to each other in the bed. "I finished the work that I had to leave behind... so I... started this."

Enno continued to put their scent on him. “You’re really good. Better at realism than I am. Can you put that with your horde when you're done? I want to keep it.” They slowly bring him back up from hiding it. “If you don’t, it's going to be my treasure now.”

They give him a kiss on the temple.

Warrior take a breath. "You can have it. I don't typically keep my drawings. And before you ask, it's a habit. My desk isn't usually that messy. I try to keep myself away from paper as much as I can....being a fire dragon and all."

“Thank you.” They give him a few more kisses. “Shall I wake up Wind? We have to tell him the plans today.” They whispered. “He is going to be so excited. You better win him that prize from the game.”

Warrior turns in his chair, watching them adoringly. "Do you want to use the bath first? I can wake Wind up and we can all have breakfast."

They still had their arms around him. “I would love one, but I don’t have anything to wear. And at this point I should just move my stuff into here.” They twirl their finger around his hair again. “But I would love to have a family breakfast.”

Warrior purrs, his eyes closing in content. He smirks a bit. "You can always just wear my clothes. You happen to look stunning in them."

Enno baps his head lightly. “Fine but remember your things are bigger on me.” They rolled their eyes as they made their way to the dresser. It took a few tries but at least they remembered where his horde was. 

“Ah.” They picked out a red tunic. They debated on the pants but the tunic was longer than the one they wore yesterday so it would be literally a dress on them. 

“I’m taking this one!” They closed the drawer, grabbing the headband they left on the top and went into the bath. They put it all on the counter in the bathroom after shutting the door.

Warrior leaned back his chair, crossing his legs with his ankle over his knee, watching them go.

After they closed the door he smirks fully and stands, making his way to the bed. He shakes Wind's shoulder. "Wake up pirate, we're going to go on an adventure today."

Wind hums and blearily opens his eyes. "Huh?"

"You're going to get that prize." Warrior winks. "Up. We don't have much long until Enno gets out of the bath."

Enno laid down, relaxing in the bath once it was filled. They were still sore and felt grimy. There was a faint feeling of pain on their back from yesterday. They start humming, taking their time for once.

Pain shoots up their spine when they tried to lift their arms up. “Ow ow ow ow ow, ok, that’s not happening.” They hissed as they felt a pulled muscle by their upper back. It was going to take them a longer time than they thought to actually bathe.

Warrior and Wind dash out of the room, heading to the guest room where their stuff was. They grab as much as Enno’s things as they can and run back. Not wanting to actually be suspicious, they simply place it on the bed.

Warrior stretches his arms over his head, a satisfying pop being heard from his shoulders. "Ok Wind. Your turn. You gotta get ready for today too. At least change your clothes."

Wind and Warrior go about their morning routines. Warrior managed to sneak some of Wind's stuff into the room as well while he was distracted.

He wasn't sure if he should also take a bath or wait until nightfall but he wants to wait for Enno.

Enno finished and got out slowly. Giving themselves a small pat down so as to not make their back worse. Putting on the new set of clothing, they made an attempt to dress down the hairband by braiding their hair here or there. They have trouble deciding if it looks good or not. They huffed when it didn’t work, but it was the best they could do.

Warrior is dressed casually when they finally get out. His smile widens and he lets out an appreciative whistle. "Beautiful. Absolutely stunning."

He chuckles, getting to his feet and adjusting the head band on their head. He untangled a bit of their hair and tucks it into some other parts where they would be tighter and fit better.

"Better?"

Enno looked in the mirror. Somehow he had made it look like the headband was actually a ribbon that had been intertwined with their hair. He dressed it down perfectly.

Enno blushed and looked away but then noticed their stuff on the bed. “Wait- when did you two… why?”

They turned back to Warrior, confused, before realizing why and turned red again. “You know now I have to unload things here.”

Warrior shrugs. "Fine by me."

"This way you don't have to go and get your things. They’re already here!" Wind cheers, sitting on the bed. "I got some of mine too so we have to figure out a place to put everything but it shouldn't be too hard."

Warrior waves him off. "If there's no space then I get another dresser or something."

Enno had to take a moment to take a breath. They couldn’t help but soften at the gesture. “You two are going to be the death of me I swear.” 

Enno gives both of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek / forehead separately. “I love you both so much but I thought we were going to have breakfast together?”

"Yes!" Wind cheers, vaulting off of the bed and toward the door. "Let's go eat!"

Warrior bows dramatically, offering his elbow. "Shall we?"

“Of course.” They take his arm and we follow Wind out. They felt a little self conscious about leaving the room because it's been a safe haven from Cia this whole time. But it wasn’t a good look if they simply went in and never came back out again. They took Wind in their other hand so he wouldn't go too far ahead.

Warrior hums as he purrs by their side. "Zelda is pretty good at keeping the dining hall scarce of arguments so we should be ok to go eat together. If it gets interrupted, we can get something while we're out on the town "

“That’s… good at least.” Enno thinks about it. They’re not inclined to agree but it’s better than nothing. 

“People are still staring.” They whisper as more maids pass. They seem surprised by their look. That or they are just staring at Warriors. They put their head on his shoulder trying to ignore the stares. “I guess I did turn into a dragon the other day.”

"True." Warrior swings their hand a bit, leaning his head against their own. "I also tend to get a few stares just by walking. Dragons are few and far in-between. There are only five who actually live in the capital, Zelda and myself included. So more or new dragons are quite the sight to see."

They hummed. "I think the stares for you are for another reason. The most eligible bachelor got hitched." 

Enno nudged him teasingly, having a sinking feeling this is something they weren’t going to let go anytime soon. At least they weren't so stressed about heading to eat. They were still worried about Cia but not as much to dampen their mood.

Warrior grins, adopting a little pep in his step. "Well I wouldn't say we're married yet but you bring up a good point."

Wind laughs from the other side. "You certainly fell into the part pretty quickly. Why not seal the deal already? You clearly like each other."

"Wind!" They instantly shoved their face into Warrior's shoulder to hide a blush. "I assume this isn't something you just do on a whim. It's like a proposal right? Slightly planned out? It's not like I would rather one way or another. It seems like it's going to happen anyway. Ahhhhhh..." 

Warrior chuckles, kissing the top of their head. "There is a process. It might be fast to human standards but dragons also don’t leave much room for second guessing. However, it's only been a few days."

Warrior reached over and flicked Wind's head. "There's no rush either. So let's try to take some things one at a time. Such as making sure we all have fun today."

“Only been a few days… From what I heard you’ve been trying to court me for a while now, Sir.” Enno started to purr as they walked into the dining hall. “Do you think we can’t get Hyrule to do a small check up? I’m still worried about the thing I mentioned yesterday.”

Warrior blushes as he kicks a bit of the carpeted floor. "I meant after the claim has been made...."  He laughs nervously. "I uhh... I just wanted your attention at first... like I said, I never thought I'd actually have a relationship."

He smiles and grips their hand a bit tighter. "Yeah, we can ask Hyrule to check it out before we leave..... Are you feeling any better by the way? Still sore?"

"Had some weird phantom pains on my back while in the bath. I know I don't have the condition I had in my world. I'm just worried if there is something else wrong with me instead." They lift up his hand kissing it.

"Yuck." Wind pretends to gag, running a bit ahead to the dining hall door.

Warrior nods and tries to think about what it might be. He pulls their hand up to kiss it as well. "I don't suppose that it's merely stretched from the sudden addition of wings. I know that young dragons itch and are sore when their wings begin growing for the first time. Not all dragons are born with them already in their form, you see. So while it's not commonplace, it's not rare either."

"Getting it looked at isn't a bad idea though." Warrior opens the door for the both of them since Wind didn't hold it open. "Just in case."

"Those are two different ailments. I want to make sure I don't have a magical version of not being able to create energy." Enno stated as they walked in. Wind had already plopped himself down with some of the others waiting for them.

"Concerning." Warrior notes. "I'm sure Hyrule can help it. But I think you would be better off actually looking into a professional opinion."

"Enno!" Wind calls out. "Sit by me!"

"About time the two of you showed up." Legend says, putting his cheek against his fist. "We were wondering when the honeymoon was going to end."

"Legend, be nice. Cia was going crazy. We know that Warrior is the number one target." Four punches his shoulder.

"Actually Legend the Honeymoon is after the wedding. We were just having an engagement celebration." Enno said, sitting next to Wind. They made a mental note to ask Warrior where exactly a professional is. "How have you guys been? I feel like it's been years."

Sky smiles. "We've been alright. We've mostly avoided the drama."

"Is Pinky ok?" Hyrule leans forward. "I heard what happened but they said I wasn't needed."

"Meaning they wouldn't let him in." Legend chimes in. "Heard through the grapevine that you both got hit too. You ok?"

“Well… turns out I’m now a dragon. But also the… uh… human? Part? Of the half form is how I looked back in my world. So that's fun.” They tried to be as casual as possible as some maids put our food down. “I still don’t know how you got hit, Captain.”

"Cia threw a fit and some magic. I did my job." Warrior explains simply.

Legend hisses in sympathy and empathetic pain. He goes to subconsciously scratch his shoulder. "Aimed at Enno?"

"Yup."

"I heard it hurt your wing." Hyrule mutters

"It did."

"It was pretty bad." Wind speaks up. "I don't think he's going to be able to fly for a while."

All the boys grimaced and stared in front of them. Clearly there's some significance there.

Enno looked at their faces and just whistled. Enno picks up their fork to start eating. “Aaaannnyyyway. What do you guys have planned today?”

Four perks up. “Oh! There was a blacksmith that was letting me use his shop yesterday. I was going to continue working on our weapons and armors before we leave. It’s been awhile since I got to fix everyone’s stuff.”

Legend smirks and gabs a thumb in Hyrules direction. "He's going to try and sneak into the medical bay and I'm going to watch."

"Legend please.... I just want to learn some more things before we go."

"I was just going to be in the library all day." Sky starts eating his food. "Do you have any plans?"

Enno grew more interested in their food suddenly as the realization hit them. “Well… We are going out into town.” They give Warriors a small nudge. “A ‘family’ day is what we are calling it.”

“There’s a game in the town square! Warrior is going to win it for me!” Wind cheers

"You bet I am." Warrior grins, nudging Enno’s foot from under the table. "It's just a bit of fun for today. I think we deserve it."

Time didn’t take too long to get to the dining hall. “Oh.” He wasn’t sure why he was surprised that other people were still around eating breakfast. 

Enno looked up and waved Time over. “You look better.”

“You seem different.” He shoots back. “I heard what happened. Glad to see everyone is ok.” Before the Old Man sits on the other side of Warrior, he chanced a glance at Wind. “Sorry if I scared you yesterday Sailor.”

"Is Pinky ok?" Wind asks instead.

"And has anyone seen Wild and the Rancher. " Legend adds on. "I haven't seen them since yesterday."

“She’s… Recovering. It’s going to take around a month or so to actually fully heal. Her back took the most damage. ” Time states trying to remember everything the nurses said. “Pup and Cub decided to go out early since we ordered some clothing for Pinky yesterday.”

“Are there visiting hours to the med bay?” Enno asked, “I should probably tell her that I’ve been turned.”

“Oh she already knows, she said to tell you that you ditched her, and left her alone in the human corner.” He said with a deadpan look, then looked at Warrior. “Captain, did Impa tell you about my offer? I was thinking about bringing some of it back or at least marking the location off so you guys can find it later.”

"I would assume that there are visiting hours but you should have no problem.." Time runs his hand through his hair as he continues. "They let me in pretty easily."

"Well, that's because you're her dragon. She's your human." Sky points a fork in Time's direction. "You get priority access."

Warrior cuts over that as he also addresses Time and his words. "I've heard of it. While I appreciate the offer, I'm not currently able to go and get it myself so as it stands, it's still fairly up for grabs unless someone goes and gets it."

"Don't forget we only have three more days here." Legend says in between bites. "Hyrule and I have been keeping track of how long we stay in one world before we move to another. Anything that needs to get done better should be finished as soon as possible."

Enno didn’t want to feel relieved that the group only had three more days but it flowed through their entire being. They tried not to make it visible though. “We should also have a game plan when we get Pinky on the road. If she is only fully healed in a month, I can only assume she can’t really do much.”

Time on the other hand understands Warrior’s words as he should go and get the treasure. He still has his magic pouch from his adventures he doesn’t really use as much. He should see how much exactly he can fit inside and bring back. “I only have a few more errands to run before I’m set to go. I intend to get it all done today so I can spend the rest of our time with Pinky.”

Legend and Sky grin to themselves at Times words but say nothing.

Wind is borderline vibrating in his seat. "I'm so excited! When can we go!?"

"Hold on Wind, we still have to finish eating." Warrior chuckles, playfully nudging Enno’s foot with his own once more. "Take care, Time. Don't take too long. You've got somebody who needs you."

Enno pokes back with their foot, unsure of what he is doing. They finished up their meal in relative peace, simply listening to the others talk at this point.

“I know. It won't take me that much time.” Time states with confidence. “You three be safe and have fun in the town.”

Warrior pokes back, his face not betraying anything. "We'll try our best. Don't get into any more trouble."

"Easier said than done." Hyrule laments. "We only have a few days left so we might as well get the best out of them. When are Wild and Twi coming back again?"

“If anything, I’m expecting it at this point.” Enno puts their utensils down and leans on Warriors. “I’m hopeful though.”

Time’s face softens a bit. He really wished that his day with Pinky was a bit better. He puts a thought in his head to have a redo day with you later in another era. “Soon, I was going to meet with them at the clothing shop.” He looked at the time, and stood up taking the apple on his plate with him. “Which I have to go to now.”

Warrior doesn't hesitate to wrap his arm around Enno’s shoulders, finishing his plate. "Don't destroy the shop."

Wind giggles and cleans his plate before borderline jumping out of his chair. "Ok ok, can we go now?"

Warrior looks at them lovingly. "Good to go?"

Time rolls his eyes on his way out. “I’ll try not to.” He says quicking his pace. Maybe he shouldn’t go to the treasure today. He would have to see when he gets to the shop and unload the clothing back at the castle. He was going straight to the shop. No detours.

“Mhm.” Enno was a little tired but it was fine to go out. They get up from their chair, waving goodbye to the others. “Have a good day guys.” 

Warrior hums and rubs their arm, waving to the others as well as he leads them away. "Are you feeling ok, sweetheart? Your magic is low."

They didn’t know how to explain it, “I feel low… Like how my other condition was like.” They whispered so Wind didn’t hear it. “Don’t worry too much. Let’s just have a good day out. You said you wanted to show me our home?”

Warrior nods and drops his arm to hold their hand. "Alright. But let me know if you feel any worse. There's a potion seller in the middle of the city, so we can simply go in and get one to help you replenish what's been lost."

"Can you two stop flirting?" Wind groans. "Come on! Let's go play!"

Feeling warm inside but also a bit woozy and shaky, Enno sighs and follows the boy. “I think it might be a good idea to still get something and we will, Wind. Show us the way.”

Warrior nods and squeezes their hand for a moment before he pulls them closer, wrapping his arm around their waist. Wind cheers and takes off running in the direction of the game from the day before. 

"I'll get a few then and see if that helps you feel better." Warrior pokes his nose against their head. "I'd hate to see you get sick so soon."

Enno doesn't reply back. They were already feeling sick. They were able to make it to the game stall though. They sat down nearby and gulped. They were feeling shaky and dizzy, besides they didn’t know how to play. “I think I’ll let you guys play.”

Warrior frowns. "Alright, Wind. How do we play?"

"You have to take the hammer and hit this button. It sends the puck upwards and the higher it goes, the better the prize. You get a huge one if you can ring the bell." Wind jumps in place.

Warrior takes one look at the toy and his stomach turns from the unease.

"I'll tell you what. Can you go down the street to a small shop that has flowers in the front? It should have yellow windows with green letters." Warrior passes Wind some rupees. "Go inside and order some magic potions, ok? And I'll ring the bell."

Enno started to feel tired as soon as they sat down. This was definitely low blood sugar, but it should be fine. They ate. Looking back up, they only saw Warriors playing the game. They got confused. Where did Wind go?

Warrior watches Wind run off before he grabs the biggest hammer and swings it onto the platform. He reaches 3/4s of the way and smiles.

He takes his prize and pays again. This time he actually puts his strength into it.

The bell rings.

[mooshorange]

It's time for the post long awaited by nobody, my little look into what Hyde actually is. This post ties rather nicely into my other one on Jekyll's reliability as a narrator in the book's final chapter so if that takes your fancy then you should be able to read it here (if I've inserted that link correctly). This post will be entirely comprehensible without looking at that at all, but it might be of some interest if you want to hear more about my thoughts on that.

Anyway, the question of what Hyde is sounds pretty simple at first, but a lot of people would give very different answers if asked. It's something that can really get quite complex in the way that a lot of seemingly simple things in the book can due to how much is left unsaid. If the story was entirely from Jekyll's point of view, it would be a lot clearer, but I honestly think the speculation and interpretations are part of the fun.

A very common interpretation of Hyde is that he is simply pure evil. I say 'a', but even this has its layers and will differ depending on who you ask. Hyde could be all the evil parts of Jekyll or he could be all the evil things in the world or something inbetween these two. He could even be some other form of evil. This is what Jekyll says he is so this one works more on the basis that he is relatively reliable in his statement of the case. This one usually works on the idea that they have become separate personalities, though interestingly, interpreting Jekyll as the pure good counterpart of this is less common. When Hyde is pure evil, Jekyll is frequently still morally grey and relatively unchanged. I just think that's kind of fascinating.

This next one is less common, but it links well to the pure evil interpretation so I'm putting it second. This one is Hyde as the parts of himself that Jekyll dislikes. I am, personally, a pretty big fan of this one. I just enjoy it. You may think it is the exact same as Hyde just being evil as those are the parts Jekyll dislikes about himself, but I view it as different. Evil is a very vague concept which will differ depending on who you ask. Morality is a complex subject with no clearly defined correct answers. This allows for those grey areas a little more. Hyde can include the parts of himself which Jekyll views as evil or simply dislikes for other reasons, but which may not all be considered bad by everyone. It means that Jekyll's statement is what he believes to be true, but may not actually represent the truth, which I find rather interesting. The complexity and the self-loathing of this one just really appeal to me.

One very, very common view of Hyde which I see quite often on here is that he's just Jekyll in a different body. This one sees Hyde as a mask more than a separate identity and means that Jekyll's explanation is largely false. Anonymity can make people do weird things, a fact internet users can understand well. Perhaps that's why I see it so often online. I also think a lot of fans of this one dislike Jekyll, which is understandable. I have more complex feelings about this one. Sometimes I like it, and other times I don't. It's rather hard to explain so I just won't, for the time being. This post is going to end up long enough as it is.

So, onto my next interpretation. I've seen a few people talk about Hyde as Jekyll, but affected by the drug in the way that people act different when taking real-world drugs. This one is very similar to the last in that everything Hyde does comes from Jekyll but isn't necessarily something he would do if he could fully control himself. Things like him losing his self-control, being overly aggressive, and gaining an increased dependence on the drug frequently come into this. This means that Hyde is technically Jekyll in a different body, but he isn't fully controlled by Jekyll-Jekyll, if that makes any sense at all. Different people will mix and match parts of this in different ways. I like elements of this one. I'm not overly big on drug analogies and things. It's just not for me. However, I do quite like the idea of Hyde being Jekyll with no impulse control. Everything coming from him, but only some of it being things he actually wants.

Since this post is getting quite long now, I'll make this my fifth and final example. This is a combination of a few of the things above, but I want to give it its own paragraph simply because I really quite like it. This is the idea that Hyde begins as just Jekyll allowing himself to indulge in the things he doesn't think he is allowed to like and slowly splits off and becomes his own person. In this interpretation, Hyde grows beyond what Jekyll wanted him to be and becomes evil rather than just cruel and shameful. I just really like this. The idea of Hyde starting out as some small indulgence from Jekyll then going out of control. The idea of Jekyll no longer wanting these things, but being unable to stop Hyde from going too far. That just gets me. This one can work with Jekyll being honest in his statement, but also leaves room for him to be lying in sections as well. It's the one I kind of went with in my head when reading the book (before I had been a Hyde=Jekyll kind of person, but reading it for myself changed my mind a little).

There are many, many more ways to think about what Hyde may or may not be. I could also go into much more depth on each of the ones I listed here. Perhaps I'll dedicate a post solely to one of them in future if the mood strikes me. There's no way for us to really know what Stevenson wanted us to think of Hyde as. Even if you assume Jekyll is a reliable narrator and take everything he says as truth, it still leaves room to interpret that in different ways. I don't think it really matters though. As I've said before in other posts, the way the reader can view the text to reflect their own ideas and experiences is what makes it so appealing, even after all these years. If you have any particular thoughts on Hyde's nature, please feel free to share them in the comments, tags, reblogs, or whatever. I'd love to hear them. I always like to see how different people can take the same words in such different directions.

[dreamdepot]

Dreams of the Kingdom - Chapter 12: Sage of Lightning

Previous < First > Next

The Lightning Temple does not go as planned as you find yourself guided into something more sinister. Will your dreams finally lead you to the truth? And will Link finally open up?

AO3 Wattpad or below!

With this chapter, three temples down and only one to go. We have a quick side quest next week, then time for Fire Temple!

This dream was much more relaxing as you felt a warm sea breeze brushing across your face. It was then you realized that you were a seagull in this dream, lazily spinning circles above a small but picturesque island. After the past few dreams with Ganondorf, this was more than a welcome change. Down below you could see this version of Link walking with a cute girl along a beach. You drifted lower to watch.

“You’d be surprised how much washes up on shore here,” the girl said, carrying a basket. She picked up a seashell. “Is this one of the shells you’re looking for?”

This Link shook his head, pulling out a different shell from his pack.

“Oh, I see, more of a spiral conch kind instead of a cowrie.”

You saw one a little further along the beach and swooped down to pick it up, hopping over to offer it to Link. The swordsman beamed, gently taking the shell from you.

“What a nice little guy!” The girl said. She smiled at you, and you decided to let her pet your head before taking flight again. “If I could have one wish… I’d wish to be a seagull. That way I could fly across the sea and sing for everyone…”

You flew off to a seaside village, picking a particularly comfy looking tree to rest in. The sea view and peaceful life here reminded you of something, though you couldn’t quite recall.

“Well, well, you’re a new one. You oughtn’t be here…” You turned to the sound of the voice, only to find an owl, watching sleepily in the nearby tree. Suddenly, you realized your dream body had transformed back into your normal Hylian form.

“Who said that?”

“Who indeed!” The Owl said, flapping its wings. “My goodness, it is rather rude to intrude on someone else’s dreams you know.”

“Intruding? You’re intruding on mine!”

The Owl blinked. “Perhaps so… it is odd, but I wonder what would cause two to dream about the same thing like this.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“It’s a dream, it really doesn’t have to make sense,” The Owl replied, preening its wings. “Her name is Marin by the way. Some people read it as Malin though. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Um… thanks?”

“You’re welcome. I do wonder though, what brings the Prince of Hyrule here to Koholint even if it is a dream?”

The surprise caught in your throat, but then you realized the pink polka-dotted egg at the top of the mountain certainly did make it seem obvious. “I’m not sure,” you finally said. “These dreams have been popping up more and more. To be honest, I’m starting to have trouble telling what’s real and what’s not.”

“Sometimes the line is a bit blurry, isn’t it?” The Owl seemed to chortle. “But a smart boy like you ought to figure it out in the end.”

“Yeah, but I don’t understand why I’m having these dreams in the first place.”

The Owl flopped over to a closer branch. “Don’t you know the old stories? Don’t you know why Hylians have long ears?”

The question was an odd one, but you remembered your mother’s stories. “They say it was to hear the whispers of the goddesses on the winds.”

“Exactly, whispers of the goddesses – Hyrule may have forgotten the goddesses, but the goddesses did not forget their children. You know that better than anyone, Champion of Din. Don’t you think these could perhaps be messages to help you?”

You rubbed your ear subconsciously. “Would be nice if it was a bit clearer.”

“Perhaps a long walk on the beach will help you to find clarity. You’d be surprised what the sea washes up.” The Owl blinked before plucking a stray feather. “What you should be asking is why the messages aren’t just coming from the goddesses.”

“What?”

“You’ve noticed the difference between the dreams, haven’t you? Think about it.” The world began to fade. “And think quickly, it be the nature of dreams to end.”

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

Honestly, being a seagull would’ve been pretty nice right now.

The gaping maw of the pyramid was not exactly a cozy sight as it led into darkness. Only two torches lit the entrance, leading into the cobweb and sand infested temple. Once again, your vision shifted, this time a brief flash of a golden pyramid in a world of darkness before snapping back.

“A once beautiful monument to the great warriors of the Gerudo…”

You were taken aback by how Ganondorf’s voice sounded almost wistful. He had been oddly quiet since you got to Gerudo Town – not that you were complaining. Regardless, you ignored him and ignited your torch, taking the first steps into the darkness.

“So, this is the Lightning Temple,” Riju said, casting the light of her torch over the wall. “They say the Makeela Clan helped to build it many generations ago. To see my ancestors’ legacy…”

“It’s a weird feeling, isn’t it?” You said, knowing it all too well. Riju nodded.

“Seems pretty quiet,” Link said, “especially compared to the others. You’d think the Gibdo would be crawling all over it.”

“Maybe because we fried most of them,” Riju said.

“We should be careful still,” you said. “An old pyramid like this could have traps, but more likely, the stones could be loo-AAHHHHH!” Suddenly the floor gave way, and you slipped down, down, down.

“[Y/n]! Are you okay?” Link called out.

You groaned and sat up. You must have fallen about thirty feet, and there was no good way to climb back up. “I’m fine! Just gonna feel it tomorrow…”

“Hang on, we’ll get a rope,” Riju called. “If we have one…”

“Wait a sec!” Thankfully your torch was still lit. You cast the light over the walls, finding a doorway leading to another hall. The torches lit themselves as if by magic. “There’s something down here. I’ll catch up with you.”

“Are you sure?” Link asked. “It’s not on the map.”

“I’ll be okay. It doesn’t seem like it’s very deep. I’ll teleport back up when I’m done.” You waved as they left for the rest of the temple while you continued onward. The light of your torch flickered on the walls, revealing a mix of Zonai and Gerudo art adorning the hall. The room led to a winding hallway that seemed to run the perimeter of the pyramid.

The air was stale and musty, and you pulled out your Sheikah mask to help with the dust. Even so, it felt as if death hung in the air. You recalled Zelda telling you stories of how pyramids were used to house the dead in distant lands. Perhaps the practice had made it to Hyrule as well, rather than only being used for temples. The strange corridors led much deeper than you expected. Your footsteps echoed down the empty stone halls. Even the Gibdos seemed to be ignoring this part of the temple. You hoped that was not an omen.

The room opened up for a moment, revealing a gold brazier that also lit itself. Here the wall carvings were a bit cruder, reminding you of the ones under the castle. As you stepped forward to examine them, you heard a pebble skitter down the hall. You spun around, brandishing your torch. At first, you saw nothing but dancing shadows.

Then, you saw a man standing at the end of the hallway. He wore an ornate but light costume, decently well-adjusted to the desert. He wore a green sarong and a clasped green shawl around his shoulders. Nothing stood out to you more than a large glowing yellow-green horn headdress that reminded you of Farosh, attached to his forehead. Long waves of white hair cascaded down onto his shoulders, and a white scarf covered his mouth and nose. You then realized you had seen him before, just from his eyes.

“Hey!” You called out. Before you could say any more, he dashed deeper into the pyramid. Your feet moved on their own as you followed, first at a walk but soon at a full run, dropping your torch.

The corridor opened up into a massive hall lined with statues. The farther down the hall, the more the walls narrowed in. Oddly, the statues were all upside down, carved to hang from the ceiling. Each was a Gerudo warrior holding their weapon pointing down – or up from their perspective – towards the bottom of the hall. Then, you realized what this was: the pyramid was actually two, with one inverted.

The stranger stopped at the floor’s edge, looking down to the bottom. “Hey!” You said, running to him. He held up his hand. He was staring at… something. You realized the base of the inverted pyramid was crisscrossed with cables and paper talismans that had seen better days.

At the bottom, bound and surrounded with runic circles was a massive claymore, built for a giant of a warrior. It was black as a stormy night, and while it didn’t hold the same toxic feeling of the gloom, there was something distinctly evil within the blade. A large crack ran up from one edge. Even if one were able to lift the gigantic sword, it wouldn’t be much use in a real battle.

“What is that doing here,” you muttered. You looked up to the stranger. He was hard to read with most of his face covered, but his red eyes were filled with fire. Suddenly, he bolted off again, running down the stairs to the bottom. “Wait a second! Maybe we shouldn’t mess with the obviously evil thing?”

You ran as quickly as you could down the spiral of corridors. Even with your military training, it was almost impossible to keep up with the stranger. It was as if he flew along the ground, fleet as the wind. Finally, he came to a stop at the edge of the bottom floor, leaving you to almost crash into him.

“It’s up to you now, Prince of Hyrule,” he said in a gruff voice that was closer to yours than you expected.

“Wait, are you… me?”

He ignored your question. “Your Trial of the Sword begins,” he said pointing to the weapon. “If you think you can stand against the Demon King, prove yourself.”

“I think I’ve proven I’m no fan of his for quite a while now,” you grumbled, looking to the hunk of metal.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be alone in this fight,” he said.

“What do you mean?” You turned back to him, but he had disappeared, leaving only a small bag behind. You opened it and frowned, only finding salt. You remembered how Impa always used salt to purify objects or to set spirits to rest. “Okay, not reassuring. And you’re really going to say I won’t be alone and then ditch me?”

You took a few steps into the bottom chamber. Having a myriad of statue swords pointing at you was a little unnerving, but not as much as the sword that seemed to emanate evil. The temperature in the room dropped suddenly, and you turned, expecting to see the spirit or perhaps a monster, but instead you saw a friend. “Sharpe!”

Sharpe waved at you, with a small smile. Instead of de-aging to how you remembered him, he only went far enough back to be about the same age as you. “What are you doing here?” He pointed at you and shrugged. “Fair point, but it wasn’t by choice, I fell down here.” Sharpe rolled his eyes, silently laughing. “Oh, come on, you’re the guy who kept tripping over his own feet anytime Zelda walked by.” He stuck out his tongue at you.

You turned your attention to the elephant – or rather sword – in the room. “The giant sword… In my dream, the Hero of Twilight mentioned a giant sword at the Arbiter’s Grounds. If I remember correctly, it was a sword possessed by a malevolent spirit. Maybe he just wants me to put it to rest?” Sharpe trembled beside you. “Oh c’mon, it’s fine. We can totally take this thing down. Question is, how do we wake it up?”

You took another step closer, despite Sharpe’s protests. Careful to avoid scuffing the rune circles or disturb the talismans, you crept up to the side of the weapon. “Oh wow, the poor thing… it must’ve been beautiful back in its heyday. There’s actually a pattern on it, like diamonds.”

Sharpe glared at you, hand resting on a spectral knife. “What? Its – ouch!” Your hand cramped as your Triforce began to glow. The feeling passed as quickly as it came, but that feeling quickly morphed into dread. The screech of metal on stone filled the room, as the sword began to shake.

You leaped back, drawing your weapon beside Sharpe. One by one the cords snapped, and the rune circles began to burn away. You tightened your grip on your weapon, which seemed to glow brighter as the demon sword rose.

Then, Tauro’s words echoed back to you. “Below the heart of Gerudo lies the ancient servant of the Demon King,” you muttered looking at the terrible sword. Tension clung to your body as you realized you were very wrong. “Wait, if it’s his sword…”

You watched carefully as the claymore began to tremble. Sharpe hid behind you as the sword shifted right in front of you. You quickly realized that this was not the dreaded monster, Death Sword. As the sword became more human-shaped, it became clear. “Oh Hylia…”

The spirit of the evil sword was less a demon and more a shambling monster, cracked skin revealing a hollow shell, empty eyes that lacked all of his former wit. His ebony body was tarnished with rust, and his once beautiful diamond crest was cracked and chipped. “You… how dare you…” He wheezed, his voice like a grinder. The glamorous form you’d heard of in stories was a far cry from his true decayed form now.

“Demon Lord Ghirahim,” you said.

“You… you left me to die… trapped for eons…” He snapped his fingers, drawing a black rapier. You barely blinked before he charged you. With a hair’s breath, you dodged him and he smashed into the wall.

A terrible thought crossed your mind. Mistress Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword, was well cared for by generations of heroes. But the defeated spirit of the Demon Sword had been left to decay, forgotten for generations. Ganondorf never used the same sword twice – after all, you held one of his former weapons yourself.

This was not going to be a duel to the death. Killing Ghirahim’s remnants was mercy.

The zombie-like Ghirahim shrieked, and terrible corpses began to rise from the ground. “ReDeads… Hylia dammit…” you groaned. “Sharpe, a little help?” He waved his hands at you, his usual protest of not being a fighter. “Okay yeah, but you’re the royal maestro! Any songs that might help?”

He started to wave again at you, but then stopped and snapped his fingers. He grabbed his ocarina and quickly started to play a high tune with a tremolo: the Song of the Sun. A bright, soothing light filled the tomb and the ReDeads hissed in pain as they began to decay. “Perfect!” you shouted, cleaving the corpses with your sword. Doing so left you open, and the decayed spirit charged again.

“You dare use that… inferior weapon to replace me!” Ghirahim screeched as your swords clashed.

“Replace you? What?”

“You replaced me!” He hissed.

You looked into his eyes, realizing instead of a beautiful pearlescent form, they were dark, clouded, and cracked. “Ghirahim, are you blind?”

“Why would you care?!” He growled, summoning flying knifes to attack you.

You quickly knocked them away, parrying his follow-up blow. “I’m not Ganondorf, or the Demon King, or Demise, or whoever your old master was. I only hold the Triforce of Power.”

For a moment, he stumbled. “Lies!” He said striking again.

“I’m not!” You said again. “I’m, uh, nobody really. But I am trying to stop the Demon King.”

Ghirahim’s strikes grew sloppier, but no less passionate. You waited for the perfect moment, and hit him with a flurry rush, driving your sword home as it pierced the crystal in his chest.

He froze, hilted on your sword, his own weapon falling from his hand with a clatter. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You might be evil, but to be abandoned like that… you must have been so lonely.”

“Left me… to rot… how… how could he!” Ghirahim hissed, tears of molten metal leaking from his eyes. His legs collapsed, beginning to rust.

“I’m sorry he hurt you too, just like so many others.”

“Hurts… it hurts…”

“It’s okay, you can rest now.” You knelt next to him. He reached out his hand and took yours as he grew still. His body grew ashen, before rusting on top of your blade and falling to dust. In your hand sat the fifth piece of the Triforce, pulsing with a calm light. You closed your hand over it and salted the dust that remained. “Rest in peace, spirit of the demon sword.”

You stood and stretched. “You always said you wanted to see what one of my trips was like, though I didn’t expect ever doing it like this,” you teased the still shivering Sharpe. You tried to hug Sharpe, forgetting for a moment he was a ghost. He gave you an awkward shrug as your hands passed through his chilling form. “Right, sorry.”

Slipping the Triforce piece into your pack, you then remembered his songs. “Since you’re here, can you please explain what the heck you meant by the Song of Time?”

Sharpe just gave you a cheeky grin, but the fire in his eyes told you he had some kind of plan. “I wish you could just tell me.” He sighed, sadly shaking his head. He mimicked grabbing you, then a person dying, before pointing back at you with a frown. “Oh… so if you tried grabbing me again like you did before it might…” He nodded. “Yikes okay, yeah. Charades it is then, unless you know a fortune teller?”

He shook his head. Then, with a smile, he tapped his nose. “Okay ready.” He opened his hand. “Five words.” He shook his head then opened his hand again before pointing to his ocarina. “Five… songs?” He nodded fervently. He held up one finger. “Part one, Song of Time.”

He brightened, then held up two fingers, playing a few notes. “Part two, Song of Healing.”

Sharpe was giddy then held up three fingers. This time, Sharpe played a mournful song that wasn’t familiar at all. “I don’t know that one.”

Sharpe frowned but also nodded, pointing to his ear. “Okay, I’ll listen carefully.” He played it again, a slow medley, that made your soul stir. Part of it reminded you of a funeral dirge. You sang it back to him and he flashed you a thumbs up before playing it again, your voice harmonizing with his ocarina. A low rumble filled the pyramid, as the statues sheathed their weapons and the floor of the pyramid rose, folding into the rest as the floors rose to the top. “Powerful song, whatever it is.”

A blue portal of light appeared. Sharpe smiled at you, giving you a little bow. “Wait, what about the other two?” Sharpe looked a bit sad, already fading away. “Alright then, I’ll see you again soon. Promise.” Sharpe nodded, fading away completely. As you stepped into the light, you felt your stomach flip as your body lifted into the air before you teleported away.

You reappeared atop the pyramid, thankfully next to Link and Riju. “You would not believe what was down there,” you said, holding up the piece of the Triforce.

“Sounds like some adventure,” Riju laughed. Link however seemed more stiff.

You gave him a hug. “Promise I was fine, I had some help. What about you guys?”

“See for yourself,” Riju said, revealing her secret stone on a golden earring. You then realized there were chunks of Gibdos everywhere. “I think they were a little mad we killed their queen. You missed all the fun, your majesty.”

“Maybe not all the fun,” you said. “How about we trade stories on the way back to Gerudo Town?”

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

There was something so serene about the full moon on the desert sands. That didn’t mean Gerudo Town was quiet, far from it in fact. While the damage from the Gibdos had yet to be repaired, the town was lit with paper lanterns and filled with music and food. Padda had prepared a banquet for the entire town with enough food to feed an army. It didn’t hurt that Furosa also kept the Noble Pursuits flowing like water.

You hummed to yourself as you loaded up a plate with food, balancing two Noble Pursuits with your other hand. “Where did you learn that?” Riju asked.

“Oh, my old friend, he… appeared as a ghost and taught it to me? I know it sounds crazy.”

“Not any crazier than anything else that we’ve seen,” Riju said, grabbing a few slices of hydromelon.

“So, you know it?”

“Yes, it’s an ancient song of our people, called the Requiem of Spirit. Maybe it’s fitting he played it for you as a ghost?”

“Maybe so,” you muttered. The Song of Time, the Song of Healing, and now the Requiem of Spirit. All three clearly had something to do with passing, both in a time and spirit sense, but it wasn’t clear what Sharpe meant by the songs. “Oh, have you seen Link?”

“He said he’d be waiting for you up top,” Riju said. “[Y/n], asking as a friend, is everything okay? Link seems to be… off.”

“That’s what I hope to find out. You don’t mind if we disappear for a bit?”

Riju snorted. “Everyone here is about five minutes away from being too drunk to remember their name. You’re going to be fine. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”

For half a second, Riju was replaced by Urbosa, though this vision was more welcome. “Thanks Riju.”

“Of course, now go take care of your swordsman.”

You climbed up to the elevated canals atop the buildings, carefully balancing the plate of food and the two drinks. You ran along the edge. While the party carried on below, it was surprisingly quiet up top. Link sat on the edge of the town wall, facing the sea of sand. “Hey, thought you’d be hungry.” You held the food out to him, but he didn’t move. “Link?”

He suddenly jolted in surprise. “Oh, sorry, I… didn’t hear you.”

You sat beside him and set the food down. “Ooo-kay… is everything alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” He didn’t respond, but that perhaps spoke louder than any words he could have said. There was some hidden pain in his eyes; it was heartbreaking to see. Link was always so good at hiding it all behind that mask of bravery he always wore. “Link, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Your knight looked out across the sands, avoiding your gaze. “I’m… scared, [Y/n].” Finally, a crack in the mask, though not exactly what you expected. “I’m so scared.”

“Of what?” You hated how weak your voice sounded as you tried to be strong for him.

“Of losing you.” Link looked down at the sand. “When we were at the castle, and you fell… I knew deep down you’d be okay, but seeing you fall into an abyss again? Seeing you almost die almost broke me. I can’t… I can’t handle that happening again. I would do anything if it meant I could make sure you’d be safe forever. I… don’t want to lose you.

“Here we are, always having to fix the messes of Hyrule – and I get it. It’s what we’re meant to do. But…” he sighed. “It feels like we never get a chance for just us. When was the last time you and I just got to relax? Don’t get me wrong, I love going on adventures and quests with you – I wouldn’t give it up for all of the treasure in the world! But… why can’t we just have a lazy weekend at home once in a while? Why can’t you and I just – I don’t know, go fishing or work in a garden or maybe watch the auroras? Instead, it’s always going to do something else. It’s always someone else who needs us.”

He paused, and you nodded, encouraging him to keep going. “I know, it sounds pathetic when I say it. It’s all part of you being a prince. You have responsibilities, you have to serve the people and lead our kingdom. I know and accept that; it’s the same as being your knight. But some days, I don’t want to share you.” He groaned, holding his head in his hands. “It’s terrible, it’s greedy, it’s selfish.”

“No, no, not at all,” you said, rubbing his back. “We should’ve talked after we met back up in Lookout before heading out. You’re absolutely not selfish wanting time for just us. Prince and knight or not, we’re supposed to look out for each other, and that absolutely includes time for us to just be together.”

You kept rubbing Link’s back. When he stayed quiet, you decided to continue. “Y’know, growing up, all of Mother’s fairy tales made it sound like being a Prince was supposed to be fun and glamorous. Hey, I acknowledge my privilege, sure, but I wouldn’t call anything in this life being exactly easy either. If I really had the choice, I’d want us to run away. Just run far away together to a little homestead all our own – far from responsibilities and giant monsters… but we can’t do that.” You sighed. “We really haven’t slowed down after the Calamity, have we?”

“No, not really.”

“Peace sure wasn’t peaceful,” you laughed weakly. “I guess it beats dealing with all this though.”

The two of you sat together quietly for a moment. You wrapped an arm around Link, pulling him into you. You let your finger trace little circles on his arm, and you could feel his breathing start to slow.

“Some knight I am… cracking like this.”

“That’s a load of crap,” you said. “You’re the best knight in the world. You destroyed the Calamity and saved my sister – and me multiple times!” You turned his face towards yours. “Link, just because you’re my knight doesn’t mean you have to be “on” all the time. I’m your partner, remember? You can talk to me any time when something’s bothering you.”

His gaze softened. “I know, I just… I feel like it’s getting harder to face these monsters and make sure you’re safe.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’m not made of glass. I’m going to be by your side no matter what.”

“But I’m your knight! I’m supposed to protect you!” His voice fell off and he stared at his scarred hands. “I… I don’t know if I can protect you from… him.”

There it is. To be honest, you had the same fear, just the other way around. Part of you thought about the dreams again, but, looking at Link, you knew tonight was not the time to talk about them. “Link, this is bigger than anything we’ve ever faced – perhaps more than anything our ancestors faced. The way we get through it is together.”

“I’ve already lost you once… twice… Even with you falling down today and exploring on your own, I was anxious the whole time. If I lost you again… I can’t go through that again, [Y/n], I can’t.”

You guided his face to yours as you pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. By the time you pulled away, you could see a tear rolling down his cheek. You brushed it away. “You won’t lose me. I’ve fought my way back from death itself, just like you did. I don’t think any force on this world or the next can keep you and I apart.”

“But…”

You shushed him, brushing his hair back. “I promise, no matter what happens, I’ll always make time for you. I think the people of Hyrule can understand if we need a break.”

Link smiled weakly, letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “We’re almost there. We just need to save the Gorons and then… take care of Ganondorf.”

“Right.” You held him close. “You don’t always have to be the courageous knight, my love. Let me be your courage tonight. How about a quiet night at the spa? Just you and me, no need for us at the celebration.”

“Not yet,” he said. “Let’s stay here, just a little longer.”

And so, you did. As the Gerudo set off their fireworks and the desert was filled with song, the Prince and his Knight sat in quiet harmony.

[kenren]

The Great Hunt ❄ Aokiji (Kuzan) x Female Reader ❄ Chapter 6 of 7

I cannot tell you now;     When the wind's drive and whirl     Blow me along no longer,     And the wind's a whisper at last— Maybe I'll tell you then—                         some other time.                                 The Great Hunt, Carl Sandburg                        

A story of departures and returns. And sex. Of course there's sex.

Previous

.・゜゜・Author notes: This chapter has some p*rn but somehow it doesn't feel super raunchy to me idk? Kuzan wears a bonnet because this is my house and I do what I want. Anyway, the last chapter/epilogue will be out later today. Obligatory tag for @thehanging-gardens. (＾• ω •＾)

.・゜゜・This chapter is NSFT; minors, please don't interact.

.・゜゜・Chapter word count: 2740.

.・゜゜・AO3 (See first chapter for tags.)                                                

                        .・゜゜・

The moment you entered your apartment, Kuzan crossed the room in a few inhumanly long strides and collapsed on your bed. You shot him a look and aggressively pulled his boots off, earning a groan.

“Kuzan, take your pants off.”

“Arara, give an old man a couple of minutes.”

“We’re not having sex now, slush-for-brains. Just get comfortable and put a bonnet on.”

“Bonnet?” You grinned and went into your closet, fishing out a turquoise satin bonnet. You dangled it in front of him, and he slowly plucked it from your grasp, running a hand through his hair as though recalling something. “I was looking for this before I left.”

“Oh, so you weren’t planning on leaving me anything to remember you by?” You snorted. “It was wedged partway under the pillow. I never even got to see you wear it, since you were gone before I woke up.”

“You kept it the whole time. Who’s the romantic now?” He lifted his head to let you gently slip the bonnet on around his curls, groaning as he let his head fall back onto the pillow. “...I’m never leaving you again.”

“Cute. I’ll have to switch out the pillowcases so you don’t have to keep it on while I ride you into the mattress.”

“If it’s cute, that shouldn’t be a problem.” You huffed and started tugging at his pants, jerking back when your fingers grazed something cold. With shaky hands, you continued pulling at the pant leg, swallowing hard when you realized what you were looking at. 

You looked up and met Kuzan’s questioning gaze, forcing a smile. “Don’t press this thing against me while we sleep.”

“If I get rid of it for now, do you think you can defend us if anyone breaks in?”

“I can’t even tell if that’s a serious question anymore. I don’t have any pants made for 10-foot-tall men, so I guess I’ll do my best.” Kuzan pulled you down next to him. He haphazardly broke the frozen prosthetic as close to his skin as he could manage and lobbed it off the side of the bed, earning an indignant shriek.

“It’s gonna melt into my carpet!”

“Well I’m not hopping on one foot to pick it up, so you go dispose of it yourself.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Hope you don’t have to pee in the middle of the night.”

“Damn you, woman.” You went to stand to pick it up, but he pulled you tighter against him.

“Kuzan!”

“Stay here. I’ll buy you a new carpet.”

“It’s not gonna make that much of a mess….” You shivered as you felt the remnants of the ice on his leg melt away, and you turned to look at him. From this close you could get a clearer view of the dark circles lining his eyes. Your gaze wandered to the edge of a scar on his neck, the pink tissue contrasting almost elegantly against his dark skin, like a tide rolling in. You found yourself wanting to see more, and with a perfect excuse to do so. “Hey, take your coat off too.”

“Brat.” Kuzan shrugged, letting you awkwardly slip his coat from his shoulders, leaving him in a thin white t-shirt. Your eye traced the edges of the scar where it disappeared into the neckline and where it reemerged from the sleeve. It seemed to stretch down the length of his torso, but you fought back your curiosity in favor of letting him relax.

His eyes remained closed, but you smiled at him nonetheless. “I’ll have to thank Akainu; he somehow made you even more handsome.”

“I love a woman who can appreciate a good scar.”

“I love you too.” He didn’t answer, but your smile widened as you felt his grip on you tighten. “Sleep well.”

.・゜゜・

Kuzan slept for 18 hours straight.

He eventually released you from his bruising embrace. You cooked for him, and the food went cold, so you cooked again, and it went cold again.

You found yourself studying his face with mild concern.

His temperature and breathing had remained steady overnight, but once you escaped his grasp, his sleep seemed to become slightly more fitful. He let out puffs of icy breath, and you could swear that the temperature of the room itself had dropped.

You had half a mind to slip back into bed next to him, but the bed was a bit small for his huge frame, and you weren’t sure whether or not you should wake him up. You settled for sitting next to him to caress him comfortingly…which turned out to be a mistake. He startled awake and nearly froze your arm.

“...Sorry. You seemed to be having a nightmare. You’re safe.”

Kuzan blinked, ripped off his sweat-soaked bonnet, and fell back onto the mattress. “How long have I been out?” he rasped.

“18 hours and…29 minutes. You can go back to sleep, though; your body probably needs it.”

“Water…”

Rolling your eyes, you fetched him a gallon of water. He took a few gulps and stared at you.

Then he threw the gallon off to the side, froze it in mid-air before it spilled, and pulled you down to the bed, earning an undignified squeal.

“Arara, you woke me up. You owe me now.”

“You’re in my bed, brat!”

“You’re the brat. Claiming to love me, but you can’t sit still and protect me from my demons….”

“Are you haunted by the memories of the Blackbeard Pirates’ B.O.?”

He pulled you into his lap and kissed you. “It was nothing compared to your morning breath.”

“Hey, I’ve been up for hours already! You’re probably smelling your damn self!”

“I was a Blackbeard Pirate, after all.”

“I could tell from a mile away.”

Mouthing desperately at your neck, Kuzan attempted to shove his fingers in your mouth. Your eyes widened and you managed to bite down before they made contact with your tongue. You grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand away from your face with an indignant glare. “Did you even wash your hands after we got back last night?!”

“Finger yourself then, woman. I was just trying to multitask and shut you up.”

You giggled as you felt his hardened length pressing up into your leg. “I still have this effect on you, huh?” Kuzan eyed you lazily, then frowned and pushed you off. “Where are you going?”

“To wash my hands, since you’re so bad at following instructions. The Navy should have gotten rid of you sooner.” From across the room, your eyes lingered on his long fingers as he carefully soaped them up and rinsed them off. “Arara, I can sense your desperation from here. Maybe I should take you up on that offer of going back to sleep.”

“Don’t you like me desperate?”

“I’m making my new career out of leaving you unsatisfied.”

You smirked and threw your legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t think you’re qualified for that.”

“Just you wait.” Kuzan approached and stood between your legs. His dick had started to soften, but he didn’t seem too pressed, instead taking the moment to gaze down at you. To an outsider, he may have looked bored, but you had known him long enough to sense the intense fondness in his expressionlessness, and it made you blush. “Your bed is too damn short.”

“We’ll get a new one.”

“No. It smells like you.” He reached up and caressed your cheek, face still blank.

“Kuzan, lie down.” 

And he did so, wordlessly, with a small groan, relishing the respite from his lingering sleepiness and sore muscles. You climbed onto him with an impish grin and slipped a hand down the front of your panties.

“Arara, now you listen? You made me get up for nothing?”

“No…I want your hands.” You took his hand and guided him to run his fingers along the length of your slit through your panties. The lack of friction had him hardening against you again in seconds and sitting up straight in the bed. 

“Take these off and sit in my lap, back to me.”

You pouted. “Don’t freeze me this time.”

“Of course not. You still have to ride me, after all; this is just what’s left of my mercy.” He pushed your legs apart, and you reveled in the familiar way he delved his fingers into the flesh right next to your outer labia, causing slick to pour out of you. He spread you open with one hand, looking down at you with a small harrumph. “I doubt I can make you come like this right now, anyway. You’re too wet and sloppy. No friction whatsoever.”

You tilted your head back to glare at him. “You’re mean.”

“It doesn’t even matter that you didn’t let another man touch you. Two minutes in close proximity to me and you’re dripping and loose. Embarrassing.” He shoved two fingers in without warning.

You flushed, his words hitting you with a pang of self-consciousness. “Is it too much? I can, uh, towel off…”

Kuzan lifted his opposite hand and pulled your chin up to make you look at him. “It’s perfect. You are perfect, for me.” He released your face and gently patted your head. “I’m over 9 feet tall. If you liked me any less, we’d be in big trouble.” Taking solace in his words, you relaxed against him, trembling and twitching as he crooked his finger inside of you.

“...Okay.”

“Plus… I’m impatient. And notoriously lazy.” He collapsed backward onto the mattress. “It’s your turn.”

“C-can I turn around?”

“As much as I love your ass…I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your legs cramped slightly as you struggled to straddle him, earning a chuckle. He brought his two large hands to your hips, rubbing soothing circles as he watched your efforts with a soft smile on his face. “You can try kneeling on my hips if you wa—”

“I got this!”

“We can fool around with different positions, you know. I am…not unaware of our size difference.”

“Oh believe me, I know you’re not, pervert.”

He smirked. “Pervert I may be…my point stands.”

“We’ll fool around later. I’m riding you like this if it’s the last thing I do.” You lined the head of his cock up with your entrance, shivering at the foreign feeling of him pressed against you. Suddenly hyperaware of the fact that this is only your second time together, you pulled back and ground your wetness against him, earning a sharp inhale. For all his teasing, he was right—you were soaked. The veins lining his length and the subtle ridges of his frenulum slipped against your clit, but you were both so slicked up by this point that the feeling was almost muted.

You lined your bodies up once again and closed your eyes as you pressed down onto him. You were so turned on that your mind was nearly entirely blank. Kuzan’s mouth hung open in pleasure, but he managed to cast you an amused glance before glancing back down to where his thick length was spearing you open, equally aroused by the sight of your body trying to take him.

“...You’re doing a great job.” The bluntness of his comment took you off guard. You snorted on instinct, but it turned to a genuine laugh. You nuzzled him fondly and pushed down several inches at once, once again intent on making him lose his composure. His hands flew to your hips and squeezed almost painfully. “I should be quiet. I forgot that you’re damn crazy.”

You bobbed your hips up and down, clenching desperately when you realized he wasn’t letting you sink down lower than where his hands had stopped you initially.

“Kuzaaaan.” As you whined, your hips collided with his hands once again—but this time he grabbed you and pulled you down further. The shock sent you reeling. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt yourself pulsing around him, hissing and batting his hand away as he tried to reach for your clit.

Eventually, you fell limp against his chest, struggling to catch your breath. When you lifted your head to offer a bashful grin, the lust in his dilated pupils drove the air from your lungs once again.

“Arara. You know…I read somewhere that less than 20% of women can come from penetration alone.”

“The rest must not have tried your cock.”

“A new experience for you, then?”

You shot him another playful glare, still bracing yourself on his chest. “I’m not doing that to your ego, but nice try.” His gaze softened, and he caressed your back with one hand, gently brushing your hair from your face with the other. 

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I…I love you too. You can start moving again in a minute or two, I promise.”

“No rush. We have all the time in the world. And seeing you like this…I doubt I’m getting any softer.”

“Really? You are an old man, after all…”

He snorted. “You think your words are enough to insult me when you just came from my cock alone?” You stuck your tongue out and tried to bounce on him again, but the suddenness of the movement made you both jolt. “Relax. Take your time.”

You leaned forward to meet him in a languid kiss. The movement of his soft lips against your own had you shivering and twitching, and Kuzan pulled back with a nearly inaudible groan. Slowly, you started riding him again. The aftermath of your orgasm made for an even tighter fit—you felt every inch of his length as it dragged against your walls, and his usually-steady hands trembled against the flesh of your hips.

“Kuzan, kiss me again,” you pleaded. He leaned in to meet you once more. and, as though bound by an unspoken understanding, you both focused simply on sharing breath. He alternated puffs of warm and ice-cold air until you noticed, at which point he laughed and finally brushed his lips against yours. When you pulled back to breathe against each other's lips once more, you finally slammed your hips down, taking him to the hilt.

…And he came immediately.

“…”

“Did you just…” He cut off your sentence with another kiss, pulling back with a shameless smirk.

“Couldn’t let it feel one-sided.”

“...I appreciate it.” You tried to pull off of him, but he pushed you back down. The exaggerated squelching sound made you cringe.

“Back to sleep.”

“I’m gonna get a UTI!”

“UTI? Is that like a commendation?” You made a face and squirmed in his grasp. “Arara. Fine, just give me a few minutes like this.” Rolling your eyes, you surrendered yourself to him, pressing your cheek to his torso, enjoying the soft rise and fall of his diaphragm and the warmth of one of his hands still pressed to your back.

“Do you think life will be boring? Now that we’re both out of the Marines and you’re out of…whatever the hell else you were doing?”

He snorted again, tugging playfully at your hair. “Great timing.” After a moment, Kuzan opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. “Boring might be a welcome change for me. But I know a woman like you wouldn’t be able to bear it, so…no. I don’t think life will be boring.” He rolled onto his side, and you fell off his lap with a small huff. “I’ve stolen enough from enough people, if you want to call them that, that we won’t have to go back to work, as long as we budget properly.”

You just stared at him. “And here I thought we were done with the dirty talk.”

“We’ll hit some of the cheaper islands, and a few of the more luxurious ones. You can explore new cities and go hiking, or whatever it is that brats like you do, and I’ll take a nap on the shore and await your return.”

“Well if you’re paying, I guess I can’t complain.”

“Arara, money is all it takes to stop your whining? What a superficial woman. I would have paid up years ago.”

You grinned at him. “I’ll accept your insults as long as I get to pick our first destination.”

When you met Kuzan’s eyes, their warmth nearly swallowed you whole.

“You know I’d go anywhere with you.”

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

jikookers say there was something obviously going on between vmin but refuse to acknowledge the change in jikook it's laughable💀 they have no room to talk! jimin has given the same energy to both jungkook and taehyung this chapter 2 but swear up and down vmin had beef and jikook are as strong as ever

I've been saying!!!!!!!

No, but I literally said the same thing a few months ago. It was because I saw this clip:

And when this happened jikookers were already saying that there was something wrong with vmin, but a year goes by of Jimin and Jungkook not giving each other the time of the day (in public, at least) and then the next time they see them hugging is #gaypride. But when it's vmin they have no qualms about saying there's something wrong between them. Even if in-between things like these happen:

I'm not vmin's biggest fan, and I also think they seriously drifted away for a while. But I can also see the double standards.

Jikookers said for all of 2022 and 2023 that something was off between vmin, even though they still had moments like those. But if you said something was off between jikook they'd write essays and bring up all the links to the time they looked at each other once in a run episode or how they hugged in that awards show. It's literally all the same.

Trust me, they can pick up on social clues as well as anyone else. They just lie to themselves and don't want to accept it when they see it on jikook because of how hellbent they are on proving they're dating. If they stepped away from that mindset, they'd be able to see in jikook something very, very similar to what they see in vmin. It was the same when some people could see the cracks in taekook but their shippers were so stubborn and refused to see them. Even though everyone else was seeing it.

As Taylor says in one of her most heartbreaking songs ever:

"Honey, when I'm above the trees I see this for what it is"

You really do have a clearer view of things when you just take some distance.

[coffeebanana]

hi Kayla, with so many WIPs, I was wondering if you have an outlining process, or what parts of a story do you establish in advance? or do you just get a premise, run with it, and hope for the best? what's your process? 👀

*sobs in too many WIPs*

ahaha just kidding i'm FIIIIIIIIINE!!! Lol. So, yeah, I typically have an outline for anything longer than a oneshot--and often even for oneshots if it's anything more than a single scene. for longer fics, i used to sort of only outline the beginning third or half before i started writing--i'd have a vague idea of how i wanted it to end and/or of some other scenes i wanted to include, but wouldn't fill in all the details until i'd written a few chapters. lately though i've been completely outlining projects before i start writing. i guess i just find myself wanting a clearer picture of where i'm heading? or maybe i'm procrastinating the actual writing part, who knows! usually as i move through the fic i'll expand on the outline for the next 1-3 chapters i'm working on, since in writing i'll have learned new things i need to work in/emphasize/change/etc... expanding is more of like...a beat by beat view of the scene i guess? and often it involves reordering things from the initial outline.

tbh, i think my outlines are incomprehensible to anybody but me. like...some of it's dialogue, some of it's vibes, and some of it's things that need to happen or emotions to consider--and usually that's all smushed together in a paragraph. but i pretty much always remember what i meant when i go back to it later, so i guess the chaotic system is working 😂 for funsies, here's an example from my post-s5 ladrien WIP:

thanks for the ask, mia!! 💜

[bb-editing]

ROXANA (Chapter 11)

“You smell like blood.”

After leaving Jeremy and Charlotte, I headed straight for the dungeon. Cassis, who had been studying me closely since my arrival, quietly commented about my appearance. I was humiliated. Just as he’d said, my hands and clothes were covered in dried blood from the encounter with Charlotte in the hall. I looked up at Cassis, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Nothing happened. Besides, it’s not like you care.”

Cassis frowned slightly at my words, but how could I be honest with him? If I said that I’d gotten so drenched in blood by fighting with my siblings, would Cassis become more guarded? Worse still, the blood wasn’t mine. If I knew it would be like this, I would have changed before coming here. 

I let my brain chew on the thought, before opening my mouth. “I won’t be able to come for a while.” Cassis looked silently at my figure. Despite his faint vision, he could see the shape of a small girl reflected in clearer view than yesterday. 

“I won’t be gone too long… Maybe just a few days.”

‘Maybe this “Roxana” is injured somewhere,’ Cassis thought, despite knowing that he wasn’t in a position to be worrying about another person’s wellbeing besides his own. But the dank smell of blood emanating from the girl facing him still made him nervous. He hated how helpless he felt in every situation without his sight; it was horribly inconvenient.

“So until I see you again, be well. Though I am slightly worried, since there’s no one available to help you if you need it.” As per usual, her voice was calm, soft, and contemplative.

Cassis thought about how nice it would be to see her face the next time they met.

* * *

Two days later, I was informed that Charlotte had overcome the prison guard and forced herself into the dungeon. Worse yet, she had attacked Cassis and wounded him. “Hmm.” I pondered the situation unconsciously while leisurely sipping poison tea from Emily. How predictable. 

On the day of our “dinner,” Charlotte picked a fight with me over ownership of Cassis, though she was eventually defeated. I couldn’t stand that Cassis had suffered under my ownership, but had to stay still even if she angered me. Plus,  Jeremy would have beaten her up.

I should have guessed what was going to happen from the look on Jeremy’s face at the dinner table. He even tried to hurry me away first so that he’d be the only one with Charlotte. Unfortunately, Charlotte wasn’t willing to leave the issue alone, and threw a fit.

When the three of us brought up the topics of Cassis’ ownership to our father, he simply told us to leave it alone for a while. So despite her overwhelming rage, Charlotte had no choice but to hold off on executing Cassis’ murder lest she be disposed. She was so angry that she lost her appetite, and barely touched her food the entire time.

My father’s order was a big blow to her, and it was clear she had desperately wanted to ruin the first toy I’d wanted. Despite this, Cassis’ injuries were milder than expected. After all, all his limbs were still intact. Is Charlotte weaker than I thought? I even brought sutures.

“Additionally, it was reported that Miss Charlotte accidentally broke the prisoner’s restraints and was about to be attacked herself. It seems like she’ll be punished for that.” 

“What?” The hand holding my teacup went limp. The breaking of restraints? How unexpected. A hemp restraint, known for its top-class durability, if nothing else, was broken?

“This is getting interesting.” Impossible. It was obvious that Cassis had used a trick or fishy method of some kind. Granted, Charlotte is easily provoked and hysterical, it was impossible for her to “accidentally” break a hemp restraint. What if Cassis deliberately used Charlotte?

Of course, that may be overestimating him on my part, but he is the Pedelian heir- he even has the nickname ‘Silver Knight.’ I set the teacup down wordlessly. It seemed that I would have to visit Cassis one more time.

* * *

“Sister, did you hear about Charlotte?”

“Yes… I heard about the dungeon incident.”

That evening, Jeremy stopped by my room. He was a little dense and clingy, retelling Charlotte’s punishment in a small, ignorant voice. She had been imprisoned for twenty days in the punishment chamber. Father was clearly very upset with Charlotte’s direct breach of conduct, while I, on the other hand, found it difficult to be anything other than satisfied with such an outcome.

“So I guess the toy is ruined now. Should I stop going?” Jeremy’s voice grew even quieter, staring at me with his deep blue eyes. I thought about how fortunate it was that he barely resembled Lanche, save for the black hair. If his appearance had looked even a sliver more like Father’s, I would have hated him.

“I’m sure the toy isn’t that damaged, but what can we do?” I said in a slow voice, patting Jeremy’s head gently. With a more devilish smile, he said, “Sister, should I stop Charlotte from going down to the dungeon?” Ah. It must have been Jeremy who encouraged Charlotte to visit Cassis in the first place. It seemed like he was doing all my work for me. It was entertaining, especially considering that I knew the truth about the whole situation.

“Just let it go. If the toy’s life is doomed, Father will take care of it himself. He won’t tolerate being disobeyed twice.” And of course, since Charlotte was locked in the punishment chamber for a while, she won’t be able to get near Cassis, even if she wanted to.

“Jeremy, you’re not going to touch my toy as Charlotte did, are you?” I whispered. “You’re the only brother I trust.”

At that moment, he stopped and looked up briefly. Then he laughed softly. “Of course. I would never do what you don’t want me to.”

* * *

“Charlotte is such an idiot.” Jeremy exited Roxana’s room and into the hall, annoyed.

Of course, an Agriche being attacked after breaking a prisoner’s restraint was unforgiveable. “He’ll just be killed or tortured.” Jeremy’s eyes shone dark and cold. He wanted to kill that Cassis Pedelian, but couldn’t touch Roxana’s toys, even indirectly. 

“You're the only brother I trust.” Roxana’s words rang in his head- it was impossible to betray her trust. Damn it. But why do I feel so happy and proud? He scratched his head in confusion and headed for his room.

[banannabethchase]

Life is a little easier, somehow, with Jon around. It's weirder, it's pinker, but it's better. Until other people are involved.

~

For reference, Mox's hair is neon pink circa his CZW days. The ponytail and the pink screamed High School AU Mox.

~

This is his first time getting enough sleep his first few weeks of school, probably since sixth grade. Without soccer practice and Baller Club nonsense in the afternoons, he’s able to relax with Jon and get homework done without having to constantly perform or get distracted by Kenny. Nobody is dragging him away from his bed to do unexpected drills in the middle of the night or throwing parties where he’s the only one wishing there was alcohol. Where he pours a bottle of beer or two into a water bottle and drinks it before the night starts, just to survive it.

It's just him, and Jon, and sometimes Eddie, getting homework done in the library or at somebody’s kitchen table. Eddie’s parents are never around, Jon’s flit in and out between jobs, but Adam’s mom has told him she likes “those two boys” and Adam feels. Well, he feels safe.

“Just read it out loud to me,” Adam whines. He’s upside down on the couch, feet up on the wall like his mom hates. “The words get fuzzy after too long.”

“You’re the worst,” Jon says from the floor. He’s sitting at the coffee table, cross legged on the floor. “Your mother has asked you a million times not to do that, and I’ve only been over here four times.”

“Please?” Adam asks. He does his best to turn on the puppy eye pout, but it’s difficult from this angle.

Jon groans. “God, you’re lucky you’re pretty.” He reads aloud from the text, and they work together to answer the questions. The first in class essay is next week, and Adam is determined to get it all right. Adam shifts, rolling back to the floor in a graceless flop, so he can grab his journal and get going. Jon watches him with mild interest as he scribbles across the page. “You got dyslexia, right?”

Adam pauses. “No. What? No.”

Jon scoots closer to him, peering over Adam’s shoulder in a way that is a little too close for Adam to be breathing steady about it. “Your handwriting’s, like, inconsistent in a consistent way. And you slant in a weird way, like that.” He points to the word ‘economical’ which, okay, Adam only knows is economical because he’s the one who wrote it. But bad handwritings normal, right?

“It’s just like Eddie does it,” Jon muses. “Here, wait.” He holds up his hands like two thumbs up. “Which one is a b and which is a d?”

“Both of those are hands and I’ve got the d right here,” Adam says, not quite getting the joke but knowing when to ‘yes and’ when  the moment calls for it.

Jon shakes his head. “Keep it in your pants, Cowboy, stay focused.” He thinks for a moment, leaving Adam intrigued. “Okay, let me try something.” He grabs Adam’s computer and pulls something up. Within a few moments of Jon typing like a madman, the whole screen changes, and the words seem…clearer.

He grabs the computer from Jon, and finds it easier than ever to read the paragraph on the page. “How’d you do that?”

“It’s a font that helps people read when they have issues with it,” Jon says. “A couple years back, Eddie was in my freshman English class when he was a junior, he was having a bunch of issues. I basically bullied him into asking for help and, lo and behold, he’s dyslexic.” Jon shrugs.

“I can’t be dyslexic,” Adam says, feeling his world rock just a little bit. “I’m in AP classes.”

“Dyslexia doesn’t mean, like, you can’t be smart,” Jon says. “It just means that the way your brain processes things visually doesn’t always match the words in front of you. Some people theorize it’s three dimensional thinking forced to view the word in two dimensions, and that’s why reading’s so hard.”

Adam just blinks at him, suddenly very aware that his pants are too tight. “How do you know all that?”

Jon shrugs. “I told you. Cocaine and the library.”

“I thought that was a joke.”

Jon shakes his head. “Not at all. I got an A in Jefferson’s history class because I got stupid high and read every primary source on African colonization, just to spite the asshole.”

Adam fidgets. He doesn’t want Jon to stop talking, and he’s not sure why. “Really.”

Jon grins. “Did I tell you about the time I learned all about medieval –“

He stops talking, because Adam has always been so, so weak for nerds and Jon Moxley, somehow, is a big fucking nerd. Adam gets lost in it, the way they get a little too bold, the way their hands travel with a little more confidence. Adam finds himself swinging legs over to straddle Jon’s hips.

“I want,” Adam breathes, shivering as Jon’s mouth moves down his neck, “I want…”

“Yeah?” Jon asks, hands brushing them of Adam’s shirt, skirting along Adam’s skin, burning along the way. “What do you want, Cowboy?”

Adam doesn’t have the words for it, but the answer is yes and everything and all of you.

That’s when the car door slams.

Flailing, Adam practically launches off of Jon’s lap, loses his balance, and falls backwards into the table, his head landing with a sickening crack.

“Oh, jeez,” he hears from Jon. “Adam, are you okay?”

Adam blinks and sits up. The world is spinning a little, but he can see Jon, and he smiles. “I’m fine. And you’re fine. Because you’re pretty.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Oh, god, he’s dying.” He adjusts his pants, which makes Adam giggle a little deliriously, then walks to the door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Page, um, Adam hit his head kind of hard, and I think he has a concussion.”

“My brain is fine!” Adam yells, but he sits up and throws up on the floor, so he might be wrong.

“Addy?” It’s his mom’s voice. “Oh, baby, not again.”

“I heard the door close and I jumped,” Adam mumbles. “Not in the same spot as third grade.”

“That’s when he hit his head trying to do a backflip off a slide,” Adam’s dad explains. It takes Adam a second to realize he’s speaking to Jon, because he was so focused on watching his mom get towels from the linen closet and spread it all over what used to be his dinner. “Smacked the top of his head on the underside because he didn’t jump out far enough.” His voice pauses. “Adam, how’d you get on the floor?”

“Kissin’ Jonny,” he mumbles, feeling more dazed than he should. Then he processes what he just said. He opens his eyes and clears them a little bit to see Jon standing there, trying to look less terrified than he clearly feels. “Um,” Jon says, glancing down at Adam. “Mr. Page, I, uh. I swear I did not cause that.”

“He was just being – being – ow.” Adam has to stop talking, because he thinks if he stops talking than the bells in his head will stop slamming. “Oh, kinda like the first one.”

“Jon, bud, will you help me haul this dumbass I call my kid up on the couch?” His dad says. Adam feels arms at his armpits and under his legs.

“Thanks,” Adam mumbles, stomach roiling again. “Oh, god, this is just like third grade.”

“Anything I can do?” Jon asks. His eyes keep darting between Adam and Adam’s dad, looking panicked still.

“He didn’t cause it,” Adam groans, and nothing is funny at all anymore. Not even a little bit. “I got startled and fell backwards.”

“You’ve got a helluva knot in the back of your head,” Adam’s dad says, eyeing it. “Bleeding like a bitch, but that’s head wounds for ya.”

“I’ve got the ice,” says his mother.

The next few hours are blurry, but Jon’s voice is there at the beginning.

“I’ve got to get home,” he says, pressing a kiss to Adam’s forehead. “But you’re the biggest idiot on the planet and I’m glad I get to put my tongue in your mouth.”

“Romantic,” Adam mutters, half asleep. “Kiss me for real?” Adam opens his eyes to see Jon rolling his eyes.

“Fuckin’ fine, you little whiner,” he says, but he kisses Adam like he means it, and that’s worth the pain.

He goes to the doctor a little while after that, his father babbling on about the logistics of solar vs. other methods energy for god knows what reason, and the doctor diagnoses him with -

“Concussion,” Dr. Wimblay says. “Just like the one all those years back, actually. Same spot, too.”

His dad sighs. “I wish I could say that’s unexpected, but our boy here’s never been careful with himself.”

Adam doesn’t want to think about how real that is.

~

He’s stuck at home, doing nothing in a dark room, for Saturday and Sunday, but the doctor allows him to return to school on Monday as long as he wears sunglasses and doesn’t look too much into the light, along with some other specifics his mother had emailed to his teachers.

“And no technology,” his mother says, like he hasn’t heard this a hundred times. “Even if they try to insist, no technology. You have a note.”

“A note on my phone, which may be a bit difficult to get if I’m not allowed to touch technology.”

There’s footsteps, then the light goes off, and his mom lifts up his sunglasses. “No sass, Mr. Concussion.”

He’s able to handle the ride to school, with only a bit of discomfort, but he’s glad he was able to call John and Anna and have them guide him from his mother’s car.

“We could walk you right into traffic,” Anna says, cheerily. “Let you crash into a wall. Push you down the stairs.”

“We would never do that,” John says firmly, his hands tight around Adam’s shoulder and waist.

“We could,” Anna singsongs. “It would be so easy.”

“You’re absolutely terrifying, you know that?” Adam mutters, and he’s glad for the ability to see basic outlines of things around him, because he can’t exactly guarantee Anna isn’t slowly poisoning everyone on campus and doesn’t want to trigger her murder response to a more immediate method.

Anna hums happily. “I do. And I love it.”

They get to AP Human Geography, where Jon is waiting. He thinks. It’s the general, vague, shape of Jon.

“Hey, Mr. Brain Injury, how ya doing?”

“Oh, shut up,” Adam grumbles, but he reaches out and pulls Jon to him for a quick, graceless kiss.

Somebody pulls on the sleeve of his shirt. “You’re aware you just kissed Jon Moxley, right?”

“Yes, John.”

“I thought you said I’m the only John you’d be willing to kiss.” Adam can hear the pout in John’s voice, and also the actual laugh from Jon.

“That was an actual conversation?!” Anna asks. “Oh, you’re on your own, blind cowboy. I’ve got shit to do.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Adam says, patting John on what he thinks is his shoulder, “his name doesn’t have an H, so it’s technically a different name.”

“Acceptable,” John says. He pats Adam on the butt, because John, and Adam feels him walk away.

An arm is thrown around his shoulders. “Your friends are weird.”

“My friends are either weird or bitchy.” He considers it. “Or both, if it’s Anna.”

“Or Matt,” Jon says, but it’s under his breath. “Let’s get you in here,” Jon says, shaking him a bit as they go through the door. “I’ll keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t get your ass flattened by a deadly chair or something.”

Adam berates him for that until Mr. Pham comes over.

“So I got your mother’s email,” he says by way of a greeting. “And, apparently, it’s real.”

Adam nods. “I’d show you the medical note on my end, but I’m not supposed to use technology.”

Mr. Pham tilts his head. “So, the typed essay? The chapter review today?”

“Oh, uh,” says Adam, “I’m not supposed to be looking at lights. Doctor says no because of my brain.”

Jon snort laughs next to him, and pats his arm. Adam rather blindly waves around and slaps Jon in the chest. “Shut up.”

Mr. Pham raises an eyebrow (Adam thinks) and looks between the two of them. “Fine. If you are concussed, I believe you, but you need to get this essay prep done somehow.”

“I can handwrite it,” Adam offers.

“And the reading?” Pham asks. “We don’t have any paper copies or audiotexts of the textbook.”

“That’s ableist,” Jon grumbles.

“Putting a pin in that for now, because you’re right, but we need to figure out the plan for right now.” Mr. Pham eyes the two of them.

Jon’s shoulder moves against Adam’s. “I’ll read it for him.”

Mr. Pham sighs. “Well, I wish I had a reason to tell you no. As long as the two of you get the practice essay and the reading completed, I’m fine with that.” He taps on Adam’s desk. “You. No more concussions this year. We have too much work to get done.”

Adam nods, and tries to look up at Mr. Pham, but the sunglasses make it almost impossible. “Yes, definitely, we can make that happen.”

Technically, it does happen. Adam’s messy handwriting gets even worse than it usually is, and the summary he writes is barely legible even by himself, but it gets done.

“I want to be nice to you,” Pham says when Adam hands him the paper. “But this is around what I get from my four year old on birthday cards.”

Adam smiles apologetically. “I couldn’t really see.”

“Alright,” Pham says, with a sigh. “Talk to me.” Adam decides he might be his favorite teacher ever, because Pham gives him the chance to explain his thought process out loud instead of just failing him on the spot. “I wanted to be nice, but that handwriting was bad enough that I think my brain was dying,” Pham sighs.

Adam rattles off what he and Jon determined to be the most important details of the chapter and its impacts on the greater global stage, and Pham nods, round blob through the sunglasses.

“Jon, I assume you’ll be writing your review, not just taking credit for Adam’s work?” Pham asks.

Jon gives him a piece of paper. “Done.”

Pham exhales. “Damn it. I was hoping to get out of grading two responses. Fine.” He takes it, then claps Adam on the shoulder. “Good work, kid. Please never make me read handwriting that bad outside of my own home again.”

~

Jon walks Adam to his next class, which is almost cute, but the Dark Order takes over from there. At lunch, Eddie makes no fewer than seven jokes about Adam’s concussion, but Adam decides it’s a friendly tease as opposed to actual malice. Based on what he’s seen of Eddie in the past, mockery is kind of his love language. That and punching.

“Seriously, man, Moxie told me all about it. It’s adorable. It’s fuckin’ embarrassing, but it’s adorable.” Eddie claps him on the shoulder, and Adam chokes on the school mac and cheese.

“I’m beginning to regret sitting at this table,” Adam grumbles. He misses the garlic bread when he reaches for it the first time. Figures.

“No, you’re not,” Jon says, and he leans close enough that Adam can see his big grin. “After school me and Eddie’ll drive you home. Sound good?”

Adam nods, doing his best to eat like a normal person. “Just don’t let me get lost.”

~

After Chemistry class, Alex finds John and they insist on going out of their way to walk Adam to French class. Nyla greets him at the door, which seems nice, until she makes fun of him for his sunglasses for three straight minutes.

“Hey, at least you’re not stuck in the barns today,” she says, patting him on the arm. “Imagine how much cow shit you’d step in.”

Adam snorts. “Fair.” The double block is longer than Adam likes, with a headache slowly creeping in that starts pounding halfway through, and begins to scream when the bell goes off.

“You good?” Nyla asks. He can’t see her face, but she sounds less mocking than usual. It’s weird. He must really look rough. “You need me to call somebody?”

Adam shakes his head, immediately regretting it. The bells are screaming again, this time internally. “Actually, yeah.” He fumbles in his pocket, unlocks his phone by muscle memory.

“Ooh, 1234, clever password,” Nyla says as she takes it from him. “Anyway, who do I text?”

“Jon Moxley,” Adam says.

Nyla makes a little impressed sound. “Look at you, rolling with the bad boys.”

“I’m not – they’re – ” Adam splutters, unsure of how to proceed. “They’re not bad.”

“It was a compliment,” Nyla clarifies. “You need a little rough around the edges.” She puts on a weird voice and sings, “Country boy, I love you.”

“Please never do that again,” Adam says.

Nyla sighs. “Not the first time you’ve heard that, huh?”

“No, first time,” he says. “Still annoying.”

“Well, I just texted your boy toy. He’ll be here soon.” She’s quiet. “Wait. I forgot you can’t see. I just winked. And I specifically texted Jon, ‘Hey baby boy I’m all done in French but I can’t leave without help from my big, strong, hunk of man.’ And then I sent about forty peach and eggplant emojis.”

“I may need to reconsider our friendship,” Adam says, snatching his phone back from Nyla.

“I doubt it,” Nyla says. “I bring a little spice to the lives of mayonnaise American cowboys.”

 Adam is saved soon after by Jon swinging by. “Hey, Ny,” he says. “I assume you’re the one who texted me from Adam’s phone.”

“I told you he wouldn’t think it was me,” Adam says.

“Worth a shot.” Nyla grabs Adam’s arm and squeezes it a little. “I smiled at you, but you couldn’t see it, so that’s my attempt at communicating.”

“O – kay?” Adam says.

She flounces off, and Adam is left in the capable – he thinks – arms of Jon, who brings him to the parking lot. “Eddie’s mom was off of work today, so he was able to bring the car. You got lucky.”

“Oh, because that’s the way I want to get lucky,” Adam says, grinning. Mox grabs his waist, pulling him around, making him stumble a little. Adam likes it.

“You wait until your brain gets better and maybe you will.” Mox presses a kiss behind Adam’s ear, and Adam is expecting this to get good, when Mox freezes. “Aw, shit.”

“Page!” shouts an unfortunately familiar voice. “What the fuck are you doing with those glasses? Hungover again?”

Adam wants to crawl inside of himself. “Leave me alone, Matt.”

“Oh, abandoning your friends, again?” Matt asks. He’s a shaded form in front of Adam through the sunglasses, but he’s able to see the absolute fury on Matt’s face. “Nice.”

“You all wouldn’t talk to me all summer,” Adam says. “Sorry for not throwing myself to my knees and begging you to like me.” He would have, though. If he’d known it would work, he would have.

Matt scoffs, twirling around the sidewalk like it’s his own personal stage. “Right. Because Adam Page would never put himself on the line for the team, right?” His stare is venom, and Adam’s headache has increased tenfold.

“You got a problem, Jackson?” Jon asks. “Because Adam here has a concussion, but I’d be happy to second for him if your pretty boy ass wants to go.” He swaggers up to Matt, who, Adam is pleased to see, takes a step back.

“I’m fine,” Matt snaps. “Just keep an eye out, Adam, because you never know when you’re guard dog won’t be around.”

He turns and flips his hair over his shoulder, which feels excessive, but Adam still can’t move.

“Fuckin’ prick,” Jon grumbles. “What the hell did you ever do to him to get that treatment?”

Adam mumbles the response, as quietly as possible.

“Come again?”

“I was drunk for our championship game, missed a pass, got the other team a corner kick, and lost the game,” Adam repeats. He says it as fast as he can, desperate not to let the shame well up in him again.

Jon lets out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of information real fast, Cowboy.”

“Yeah,” Adam says, “can we move on? Which is Eddie’s car?”

“The one he’s leaning against,” Jon says, pointing. After following his finger, Adam sees the form of Eddie fidgeting.

“Mox!” Eddie yells. “Get your Cowboy over here. I wanna go home.”

The conversation fades to Eddie’s math class, and Adam lets himself close his eyes until he gets home, desperate to sleep.

When he gets home, he waves to his parents and uses a headache as an excuse to be quiet. He sneaks a beer from the fridge and chugs it in the shower. It must be the concussion, because it works, and he’s out when his head hits the pillow.

~

Mini Playlist: Promise - Eve 6 Haven't Had Enough - Marianas Trench Afterglow - All Time Low Good to You - Marianas Trench

Bonus, because I'm a dick: Don't Lose Your Heart - Six the Musical Soundtrack

[pred1059]

Runaway Wind Chapter Sixteen

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“Looks like your ship is back in one piece.” Leon pointed out to the horizon as Cid’s ship came into view.

Cid glanced out the window, spotting his gummi ship. “Yeah, well at least they made it back here with it.” Placing his wrench away, he picked up his toolkit and began to head to the stairs. “Now to see what the damage is.”

By the time the two made it to their impromptu launch bay, Aerith had beaten them there. Though their recent guest was nowhere in sight. “How’d it go?” Aerith asked with a smile, though the cheer dimmed as she saw Ventus and Naminé walk out of the ship, still concerned. “I’m guessing not that good.”

Ventus shook his head and sighed, “We kicked her out of the fort, but in the end she got away.”

Yuffie shrugged as she exited the ship. “Wasn’t a total bust, we got a summoning stone out of the deal.”

“A summoning stone you say?” An elderly voice was heard though the hanger, “Well let’s see if I haven’t picked up anything while Cinderella's Godmother was around.”

Ventus blinked as a familiar old man came into view, “Merlin?”

The bearded wizard in blue blinked as he recognized the boy, “Ventus! What a surprise to see you!” After a moment Merlin raised an eyebrow in surprise, “And in such good shape too.”

“Well,” Ventus scratched the back of his head as he searched for the words, “Long story short, I was hurt pretty bad, and Aqua used a spell on me so time stopped for me till I got better.”

Leon crossed his arms, looking Ventus over after hearing of his dire injury, “As long as you’re fine now. So Maleficent’s still looking for that X-Blade?”

Naminé was confused for a moment as Ventus was at the unfamiliar word, before she connected the dots, “Wait, don’t you mean χ-Blade?”

Aerith chuckled and explained, “We’re using X-Blade for now so it’s easier to tell it apart from a normal keyblade if we’re talking about it. Otherwise we’ll go nuts trying to keep it straight.” Realizing the topic, Ventus glanced down to the ground ashamed, “Actually, she didn’t really know it even existed until I mentioned it.”

Leon shook his head, disappointed, “So, could have gone better then.”

Naminé stepped forward, “We also ran into the Organization.” 

That got everyone’s attention, Cid spoke up as he set down his tools, “I heard from Yuffie yammering on. Some kinda cult that decided to imprison you for fun?”

“Not exactly. There’s something you need to know about them.” Naminé fidgeted as she tried to gather her courage. “And me.”  She looked to Ventus, who had managed to regain some of his composure. He nodded ready to give her as much of his support as he could. So with a shaky breath, she explained.

Ventus stood besides Naminé watching the room as she gave her explanation. Part of him still dreaded having to tell everyone else at Hollow Bastion the truth. But he also knew that they couldn’t go on hiding secrets. Not after his forgotten past destroyed everything he loved. 

But while Yuffie seemed satisfied enough with Naminé’s story, watching the room’s reaction to the explanation was disconcerting. 

Cid’s rapid examination of the ship ground to a halt as he listened, “You’re a Nobody?”

 Leon’s eyes became a bit colder looking at Naminé. “And she has power over Sora’s memories?”

While Aerith’s and Merlins’ reactions were not so obviously hostile, they still looked at her with uncertainty. Aerith crossed her arms, “It’s still hard to believe.” 

Merlin fiddled with his moustache in contemplation before nodding, “Before we go on any further, I think it might be best if I take a look.” 

Ventus looked at Merlin pull out a wand from his briefcase warily, “What do you mean a look?”

“I’ve done a few furtive attempts at looking into some of the heart’s mysteries. Nothing serious mind you but enough to get a clearer idea and learn a few tricks.” He tapped the wand on the ship’s wing. Prompting a shout from Cid, one that was soon drowned out by his incantation.

“Animos Luminos, Salama See!”

And in a flash of light from the wand, the faint shape of a heart of light appeared from within everyone’s chest. 

Except for Naminé, who had only a faint glow of light appear from her.  

Merlin nodded, “Well...there’s certainly something there. Not sure if it can be called a heart.

Naminé began to fidget “It’s probably just my will? I’m sorry, I don’t know much about hearts. It’s just what I’ve been told.” She sighed looking down at the ground, “In truth, I’m less than other Nobodies. I’m just some animated will that was created when the original body managed to recover from losing their heart.

“Really?” Merlin raised an eyebrow, before shaking his head, “Well, your body seems stable enough. The protection woven into your clothes should help keep it stable in the unlikely event you fall into something dangerous, like pure darkness.”

“So it’s real enough, right?” Naminé murmured, placing a hand to her chest, “When I was being held by the Organization, they kept saying that we don’t really exist. Especially something like me.” 

Ventus put a hand to his chest as he responded to her words, “You’re more than a something. You’re definitely someone I’m glad I met.”

With a smile, Merlin nodded at the declaration, “It may not be a life as we have known it, but it’s life nonetheless.” 

Naminé processed this for a moment, but then gave a small nod and uneasy smile. “It’s still strange hearing things like this, but thank you.”

Leon sighed as he placed his hands on his hips, “That’s good and all, but there’s a bigger problem than her being a Nobody.”

Aerith nodded, still not at ease, “Your power over Sora’s memories. And ours.”

“Oh come on! Sora’s not here.” Yuffie stepped up next to Naminé, “That means we’re fine from any sort of memory shenanigans, right?”

“Now the thing I don’t get is why you have Sora’s memories in particular.” Cid shook his head, “How are you connected to him?”

Naminé took a breath, gathered her courage as she began to explain, “The truth is that I’m the Nobody of someone very important to him. She’s a very dear fri-”

“It’s Kairi isn’t it?”

Aerith’s conclusion caught everyone off guard for a moment. But at Naminé’s sheepish nod, the majority of the group descended into repetitions of ‘Ah’, and ‘Of Course’.

Ventus was one exception, looking at everyone speaking with confusion “Who’s Kairi?”

“A...close friend of Sora’s.” Naminé muttered out, before she continued, “This power. I don’t know why I have it.” Naminé’s cards materialized in her hands. “The only way I’ve been able to put it to any kind of good is with Ven’s help in learning combat techniques to help fight.”

Leon closed his eyes as he heard the explanation. “So what about the plan the Organization wanted to use to control Sora? Changing memories?”

“I don’t want to change them!” Naminé blurted out, shaking her head. “Tearing apart a person’s mind like that. Especially someone who’s fought to save everyone. It’s just wrong!” 

A moment of silence followed the outburst before Aerith spoke. “Naminé, I think the fact that you feel so strongly about this says a lot about your character.”

“I...feel?” Naminé’s eyes widened as she took in the observation. Eventually she shook her head, “It’s not a feeling. But whatever this is that’s guiding me, I know it’s true.”

Ventus was initially downcast by Naminé’s rejection of feelings. But with her answer, he gave her a determined look with clenched fists held close to his chest, “Then hold onto it. There can’t be anything wrong with helping people.”

“Still, there’s an interesting point I think you’ve overlooked.” Merlin spoke up and got their attention. “You mentioned learning some techniques from Ventus initially to build your cards. Would he happen to know Sora?”

Ven held a hand to his chest. “I do. I owe him a lot.” He looked to the setting sun in the sky, “If it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

Cid began leaning on the ship. “This wouldn’t happen to be a long story would it?” He pointed to his watch. “Just saying that you might want to get some dinner and a good night’s rest before we dive into that story.”

“Yeah, I think I need some rest first. “ Ventus nodded and began to head to their small base in the castle. Thoughts were running through his mind. He had a lot weighing on him ever since Xehanort and Vanitas revealed the truth. And he was still wary of telling everything. But seeing Naminé’s courage in telling the truth…

If she could do it, so could he.

But right now he needed food. If he didn’t eat he’d be starving the whole night.

“Hey, if you don’t eat it’s gonna melt.”Axel prodded Roxas as he stared at the ice cream in his hand.

 Roxas’ hold on the sea salt ice cream was limp as he shook his head, muttering. “Not that hungry today.” Erxart finished a bit of his chocolate ice cream next to him, and spoke up, “Something on your mind?” 

Roxas’ face soon grew sullen, “Today’s mission. I saw a boy there with a keyblade. He had my face.”

Axel chewed on his popsicle, “Oh right, Ventus. Guess seeing that would throw you for a loop.

“It’s just...Why?” Roxas stammered. “Why is there someone else with my face?! I’ve been here for so long, and now I find out that there’s someone already out there who looks like me!?” His voice rising to a peak, Roxas finally took a huge bite of the popsicle 

“Hey, you might not want to eat that too fast.” 

“Whaefur Ashel!” Roxas said through a mouthful of ice cream. After a few chews of the frozen treat, he resumed his thoughts. “I’ve been trying to understand who I am here, and why I’m in the Organization. But if I’m just a...a Nobody knock off Ventus then-!”  In an effort to avoid completing the thought, Roxas tried to eat another bite of ice cream. But finally the brain freeze caught up with him, and with a yelp his ranting was cooled down. Leaving Roxas back in his morose muttering, “Do I mean anything?”

Axel began, “Well, honestly-”

“You mean something to me,” Before being interrupted by Erxart, “I don’t know anyone else who’s worked harder to be a part of the organization. Not to mention, you’re a friend I like to spend time with.”

“Is that so?” Axel said skeptically, “Now are you sure it isn’t just because we get ice cream together?”

“Well I certainly don’t want to spend time with Xemnas, even though he’s the first person I met in the Organization.”

“I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t know that right?” Roxas said with a somewhat amused smile. Then nodded, “Thanks Erxart, I think I needed to hear that.”

Erxart chuckled before taking another bite, “Just don’t tell him and I think we’ll call it even.”

“Hey, as long as it helps you back on your feet,” Axel shrugged. “Now, what did you think about the others with him?”

Roxas nodded at the reminder, “That’s right. There were two girls with him. I didn’t know one of them, but the blonde one with the cards. I could’ve sworn I had seen her before.”

“Like in a dream?” Erxart supplied, trying to follow the logic.

Axel sighed at the suggestion,“You know Nobodies don’t have dreams. We just have memories that can get jumbled together.”

“Maybe. I just...” Erxart sighed and took a bite of his chocolate ice cream, “Nevermind.” 

Axel smiled and gave the man a light shove, “Oh come on. We hear Roxas’ problems out but not yours?” 

Erxart looked out to the horizon, “Sometimes when I sleep, I see a woman about my age. And I know she’s important to me somehow. I just can’t remember why.”

“Your girlfriend in your past life?” Axel chuckled ruefully, “Well, it’s all behind you now. Now that we’re Nobodies, we can’t go back to that.”

Roxas at Axel in confusion, “But, we’re trying to get back our hearts, right?” He rested his chin in his free hand, “Wouldn’t we want to hold on to things that remind us of what it’s like to feel?”

“Xemnas says things like that are illusions, distractions our memories try to make so we don’t go nuts. Personally, I think it’s not a problem as long as the job gets done.” Axel took the final bite from his popsicle, “Like this for instance. No harm in having ice cream after a mission. Just don’t go chasing off after your dream girlfriend and you’ll be fine.”

Erxart nodded, taking a bite from his popsicle, “It’s alright. I’ll know her if I see her.” 

Perhaps tonight would be one such night.

Dinner was a simple stew, but it was a vast improvement over the gruel given to Naminé in Castle Oblivion. The food might not have been as well made is the ones in Traverse town, but they were to her satisfying nonetheless.

But through the meal and after it, her mind swam with thoughts of the words she had heard. Words that she still heard as she looked up to the stars on the castle balcony.

Of the words of Marluxia and Larxene long ago.

“Those phantoms you pursue are illusions of your mind. Your dreams are a falsehood you cling to”

“We Nobodies are nothing. You? You’re less than nothing. Just a freak.”

“It matters not how you ‘feel’ about this plan or your powers. As long as Sora is brought under our control, you will serve our purposes.”

“Here, a little doll for our doll! Just so you always remember what you are, little witch.”

And the words of her friends right now.

“You’re more than a something. You’re definitely someone I’m glad I met.”

 “It may not be a life as we have known it, but it’s life nonetheless.” 

 “Naminé, I think the fact that you feel so strongly about this says a lot about your character.”

 “Then hold onto it. There can’t be anything wrong with helping people.”

Those two views struggling within her. A Nobody with a transitory existence, or a beloved friend. Was it even possible? For her simply to be? Even if there was some suspicion from a few of them, she might be able to bear it. 

But still, the suspicion lingered for good reason. If she could warp their memories, what else could she change? And even if Merlin’s magic had found some existence within herself, it couldn’t be a heart.

“Naminé?” A familiar voice from the balcony door.

She looked behind her, “Ven? Aren’t you going to bed?”

He shook his head “I’ve just got a few things on my mind.”

“About Maleficent and X-Blade?” She knew the aftermath of Larxene’s revelation had shook him.

 He sighed and looked to the stars, “Well, that’s part of it. There’s a lot of things in my past I’ve been thinking about lately.” Ventus glanced at Naminé, “What about you?”

She looked back up the stars. “I’m just…” the silence hung for a moment before she found the word. “Torn. All my life in Castle Oblivion, I’ve been told that I was nothing. Hollow.”

“You’re not!” Ventus stepped forward as he rebutted, “You’ve been willing to put your life on the line to help me, and everyone at Hollow Bastion!”

“And that’s just it.” She murmured. “Meeting you and everyone else here. That was the first time someone was willing to give me a chance.” Naminé’s eyes then became downcast. “But belief isn’t going to change what I am. A Nobody.”

Silence filled the air, and immediately the gnawing feeling inside her returned. Ventus was trying his best to help, but was she even worth it? How could someone have any kind of friendship with a nobody like her? Ventus was wide eyed at her words. A dreadful moment hung in the air as she still wondered. Was she wrong? Was he still willing to stand beside her after knowing the truth in excruciating detail?

But after a moment, he began to slowly reach for her hand, “Well, you’re somebody to me. And I think you’re pretty great.” His fingers brushed against hers for a moment.

 “Pretty great?”

...

And the moment after, her hand clung to his, and Naminé let out a shuddering breath. “Thanks.” She may not be somebody physically. But someone thought she had worth. Worth that wasn’t based on false memories or lies. Worth that had been found by being together. And that was more than she had dreamed of when she was imprisoned. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

Ventus nodded, giving a firmer grasp on her hand, “Of course. I wouldn’t want to give up on a friend. Nobody should have to live being told they’re worthless for not being a certain way.” But with those words, a far off look came over his face. “It’s...awful…” 

It was strange, that face. One of the few things Naminé had in Castle Oblivion was a crystal ball. And more than a few times, when the loneliness and pain threatened to overtake her, she made a certain face. 

One that Ventus bore an uncanny resemblance to. “Are you okay?”

Naminé’s words interrupted his rumination, “I just…” Ventus swallowed a lump in his throat. “A long time ago, I went through something similar. Being held prisoner and told...I was only useful a certain way.”

So Ventus, he had felt that pain? That loneliness? “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed. “Maybe not tonight. But still, thanks. And if you ever want to talk more, I’ll listen. I know this stuff can really hurt and...change people.” 

Naminé raised an eyebrow at the hesitation. “Change?”

Ventus nodded, “It was...someone else I knew. He was trapped by the same person. He became...twisted.” Regret began to creep across his face. “It was so long ago, but now I wonder if things might have been different. If he had help.”

A tightening on his hand got Ventus’ attention, and he looked at Naminé “Whenever you want to talk about it. Tomorrow, in a week, whenever. I’ll listen.”

Slowly, he began to smile again. “Thanks.”

How many seconds were in eternity? How much time had truly passed?

At the moment, seeing Mickey again overshadowed the horror. But now that she had a reprieve from the danger. Aqua finally felt the weight of the time that had passed crushing her spirit. 

Ten years in a few days. It had to have been days, right? Or was it hours? Or did her perception of time even matter?

Aqua took a moment to sit on the amorphous rock. Trying to catch her breath. Trying to sort out everything that had happened. Terra was still in Xehanort’s grasp, still under his control. And Ven? Did the spell she cast still work? Did he manage to wake up?

Did they still blame her for letting them down?

The only solace she had was that Terra still saw her, knew her. That somehow, she was still his light in the darkness.

Was that still true? After so much time in this world that sought her weaknesses, however carefully hidden?

Of course, that wasn’t all. People were still out there, still fighting. Their sacrifices hadn’t been for nothing.

But if everything was fine after ten years, did the worlds even need another keyblade master? Especially one as lacking as her?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it again. A glimmer of light. A familiar face. Wandering into a cave of darkness. 

“Terra?” She got up, and then she ran. If he was still here, still wandering, especially if Xehanort had him in his grasp. Then she couldn’t leave him!  Turning the corner, she finally caught up to him. “Terra? Is that…”

She skidded to a halt as she saw the figure that had begun to turn around. As she saw his face, Aqua relaxed as it no longer held the white hair and yellow eyes of Xehanort. Nor did it hold that endless contempt. But the expression was lost, uncertain as Terra looked at her, and more to the point, he was wearing a black robe with a hood that covered his whole body.

And then his next words chilled the battered remains of her heart. 

“Who are you?”

[notachicken68]

Years had passed. Maybe too long. Anakin had been whisked away to another universe because his stupid dumb ass played with magic Merlin warned him not to touch. Now he was showing up on Marty's doorstep. Deep down he knew it was a long shot. He wouldn't blame McFly for punching him square in the face. Hopefully, Nuallian contacted after he reappeared in his cabin in attire unlike his own. Knocking nervously at the door, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

The night before, Marty had switched off his morning alarm, eager to sleep in later. For the past few weeks, the happy couple had made it a routine to switch between who held early breakfast duties, and given the fact that Marty cooked that morning, the following would be Anakin’s turn. After finding a comfortable position within each other’s arms, Marty said one last drowsy “I love you,” before embracing the sandman.

The night passed by peacefully and uneventfully, and he had only barely registered his boyfriend exiting the bed hours later, mumbling incoherent nonsense before flipping to his opposite side, returning to sleep.

Never in a million years would he have believed that that was to be the last time he saw Anakin Skywalker.

During those first few weeks, he barely slept, searching everywhere he could for his missing lover, retracing their steps. . . Trying to recall any sort of hint the taller man could’ve given upon his location. . . save for the half empty coffee mug upon their kitchen counter, it was as if the mercenary had disappeared off the face of the earth.

The pain was excruciating, but unlike falling down that same rabbit hole he did when the Doc vanished, Marty did what he believed Anakin would have wanted him to do, in the event of his passing: he accepted it, and moved on.

Well, “moved on” would be a poor choice of words, as Skywalker never truly left his heart. . He simply used his memory to guide him to his next chapter of life. He put his everything into the music he had been working on, and after two years of hustling cross-country, he had accepted the… oddest of gigs:

Marty now permanently lived in the outskirts of Las Vegas, after accepting the almost prestigious gig of being lead guitarist in the band for various residencies located along the strip. While not exactly the rockstardom he had once envisioned for himself. . . it felt damned-near close to it. He had the opportunity to meet countless celebrities, perform with the greatest. . .

. . . In the present moment he was trying his hand at the Michael Jackson tribute show, and he felt electrified when it was up to him to play tribute to Eddie Van Halen with “Beat It.” Literally, the prop department had the insane idea to put a flamethrower at the end of his guitar.

As it was nearing closer and closer to Halloween, for each show of October the members of the band would dress up in silly costumes, and while at his townhouse Marty, his makeup artist, and the band were giggling up a storm as the shortest man tested out the iconic werewolf mask from Thriller.

Before long a knock was heard at the door, and the room became hushed - barely contained giggles - as they urged the man in the not-so-scary mask to retrieve the pizza they ordered twenty minutes ago.

Marty put his palm upon the doorknob, inhaling a deep gulp of air, all but ready to growl and roar as the door was opened. . .

. . . But, instead, the werewolf froze; no sound being heard, except for that air rushing out of his lungs.

It wasn’t. . . could it be . . .?

The shorter man ripped the mask from his head, dropping it behind him so he could get a clearer view of the ghost before him.

“An-Anakin?” A tiny voice quivered, as if spoken any louder he would disappear into the night air.

@knightsdestiny

[slightecho]

I can ask, what's the best way to stay focused on a chapter story and not give up on it? I want to finish mine and make it good and have people rave to me about it, but it's just so hard when admittedly I'm having trouble with where I should take the story and plus I don't really have any beta readers or friends to give their opinions or possibly even help me.

This is a really good question! One that I struggle with too a lot of the time, and a big struggle I’m having right now with the current chapter!

Like you, I actually don’t have any beta readers! I don’t even show my girlfriend much ahead of time 😅 So it’s just me and myself trying to figure it out when I’m stuck.

My first piece of advice is to walk away. Not forever! But sometimes you reach a point where you’ve hit a wall and no amount of pushing that wall is gonna topple it over. But if you walk away for a few hours, do something else like play a game or eat a snack or do other work, you’ll come back from a different angle with refreshed eyes, and you might find there’s a doorway you couldn’t see before bc you were too busy trying to push the wall down! Focus isn’t something you can force! And if you’re not vibing with something and can’t stay focused on it, then it’s okay to walk away and take a break! Sometimes it’s better off if you do!

My next suggestion is to ask yourself questions about what you’re writing. Basic ones. Like the kind of silly things your English teacher would have asked you about assigned books in class. “Why include this part? Why is it important? What purpose does showing this serve the story I’m trying to tell?” The answers don’t have to be deep or analytical. Sometimes my answer is just “because it shows this character is this trait” or “it moves the plot forward” I personally tend to prioritize Character over Plot bc i know as a reader, I come back to things for the characters I love. (And at the end of the day, as cheesy at it is, I think this classic advice is best interpreted literally: “write for yourself” as if you were the reader) A really good example of this is the current chapter I’m working on! (Skip the next paragraph if you don’t wanna read about my specific example/don’t want minor spoilers for the next chapter of Ashes)

I lost the plot BIG TIME on this chapter and realized after about 6k(!!! 😩) that the vibes were off and I wasn’t showing anything I wanted to show without rushing it and i had to stop, walk away, listen to the music that was the correct “vibe” I was trying to capture, and come back the next day and ask myself where I went wrong. Without spoiling anything, it turns out I went wrong by focusing too much on the wrong characters: This chapter I’m writing is about the Blights and about Hunter. So why had I spent 6k in Raine and Vee’s point of view?! Because i thought it made the plot clearer to the reader?? I don’t write with plot as my Number 1 Priority, i write for Character! That’s what I like! So my solution was to go back to Character first: ditch Raine and Vee’s POV. Sure, it meant getting rid of a scene I really liked, but again… did that one scene really serve the plot or any major characters arc? No. So it sadly had to go. What served the purpose of the chapter better was a new opening scene with the Blights, to show the family dynamic i wanted to show with them, and then rearranging and editing the Hunter pieces from his POV, instead of Raines (bc why tf did I write it in Raine’s?! The reader already knows what Raine’s probably thinking in this scene! It was literally in the last chapter!)

Sometimes bringing it back to the basics is the best way to give yourself the answer you’re looking for. Focus can’t always be forced and it’s infinitely healthier to walk away. I promise, your writing will still be there after you’ve had a lil snack, hydrated and gotten your mind on something else for a bit 🥰 And if that still doesn’t help, you know the story you want to tell best! Write for yourself as if you were the reader. Maybe all the plot isn’t there yet, but that’s okay: you still know your characters and what you want to show the reader about them!

Hope this helps, and feel free to reach out if you have anymore questions! I love talking about the process with others 🖤