#by the time i return i fear everyone on my dash with be gone/forget me akdshjkhd

[deartouya]

watching epic and i do believe the queen and her like royal fairy guard are the ideal dynamic.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry IV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase, unwanted touching, mild violence.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You’re forgiven but only by the sins of another.

Note: Yesterday went pretty good! I have a longer day today but I will likely have my Second Anniversary Writing Challenge up on or before Thursday for all of you guys! I can’t wait and for now, I got number 4 done.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Another servant brought Lord Barnes’ first meal. You watched from the corner, huddled under the wool blanket. He had her place a bowl of porridge before you but there was no generosity in the gesture. He only sustained you for his own means. You gulped from the rim and the oats piled in your stomach heavily.

He didn’t say a word to you as he ate. He strapped on his arm and grunted as he tightened each strap. You helped him dress after he shot you a dark look and he stopped you as you made to take a step back. You were still naked and prone to his will.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said, “you understand? It doesn’t have to-- you frustrate me and it makes me cruel. You should do without me asking.”

“My lord,” you watched his hand grip your wrist tighter. He yanked you closer.

“You are not responsible for my meals anymore or tidying. Any woman with a speck of wit can do that. You…” he turned and thrust you towards the bed, “see to this, see to me, that I am happy and I will make you happy.”

You stared at the mattress. Your lips parted and you were sure you uttered “yes, my lord,” but it felt more like a cough.

He huffed and nudged you closer to the bed, “sleep, I am certain the floor allowed for little of that. Upon my return, you might seek my forgiveness… and perhaps to begin in your new duties.”

You turned and sat on the edge. He looked down at you and pulled his gloves on. He scrunched his lips and tilted his head as he thought, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

“And you will not look at me like that,” he said as he strode away and grabbed his cape from the atop the chest where he’d laid it out, “I am not a monster.”

He was gone and you were lost. You knew there was a guard outside that door, you knew the castle was crawling with them. You had nowhere to go and nothing to do but what he said. So you buried your head and tried to forget all that, if only for a moment.

🏰

You woke to pain. You lived the last day in pain but a spark in your thigh awoke you. You groaned and pushed the pillow away and looked down at the hand that crawled along the welts on your legs. As the palm brushed over the curve of your ass, your eyes found his face and you squeaked.

It hurt to move but you rolled away and sat up, hugging the pillow as you faced Lord Rogers. His blue eyes glimmered as he smiled at you.

“What-- my lord, where is Lord Barnes?” you gasped.

“He is withheld in the stables,” Rogers pulled his knees up on the bed and crawled over to grab your ankle, “I did seek to ask after you and your condition. His rage does make him cruel.”

“Don’t,” you pushed on his hand as it tugged on your leg, “he will not be happy if you proceed, my lord.”

“Don’t? You are bold for a servant,” he took your other ankle and yanked you hard so you fell onto your back. You dropped the pillow and swatted at him as he tried to wrench your legs apart, “he owes me, he cannot be mad at me claiming my debt--”

“No,” you wriggled and twisted around onto your stomach, your legs tangled strangely as you grasped the edge of the bed. You slipped one leg free and kicked out, your toes jabbed his chest harshly and he released your other ankle. You tumbled onto the floor and cried out as you jarred your wrist.

You heard him coming around the bed and you got to your feet unsteadily, holding the square end table for support. You were so stunned after the rude awakening you could hardly think. It felt like a nightmare, like you were still asleep and trapped in your fears.

You grabbed the heavy brass candlestick and swung out at Rogers as he came near. He dodged and chuckled darkly.

“Ay,” he bent his arm to deflect your second strike, “you don’t want to do that, sweetness.”

“Please, no,” you begged, “Lord Barnes, he said-- he would hurt me more--”

“He doesn’t need to know,” Rogers smirked and you lashed out at him again and caught his forearm. He backed up and held where you’d struck, “My word, you are a little bitch.”

“Stop, don’t come closer,” you stumbled against the wall and pressed your back to it as you sidled away, “please.”

“I just want a little taste,” he hummed, “Barnes won’t know--”

You hit him again and he swore as he gripped his shoulder. You clung to the candlestick and dashed for the door. You unlatched it and ripped it open, only to stagger back at the figure waiting for you on the other side. Lord Barnes stood with his hand still in position to grab the long handle and his brows drew together in displeasure.

“And where--” he began as he entered and his voice died as he sighted the other lord holding his shoulder, only a few inches behind you as he haled mid-chase, “Steve,” Barnes said evenly and eyed him then the candlestick in your hand. He reached down and freed it from your hold, “go,” he nudged your shoulder and pointed you to the corner.

You cowered as you passed Lord Rogers and did as Barnes bid. You stood in the corner and shivered as he gestured for the other lord to follow him into the corridor. The door closed violently behind them and you pressed yourself to the chilled stones.

“Now I know why my guard has strayed,” Barnes' voice carried through the wood, “did I not promise you a reward in due time?”

“I was only playing with her,” Rogers argued.

“She should have knocked you in the head with this,” Barnes hissed, “I should break my promise now, truly it would be your dissolution on the matter for your impatience.”

“She needs a good slap, she is far to brazen,” Steve sneered, “she struck me, twice.”

“Good,” Barnes said, “she knew better than you.”

There was silence and then a long sigh.

“Go, I haven’t the energy for this and our travels on the morrow,” Barnes huffed.

“Buck,” Rogers said softly.

“If it does not happen again, I will let it be,” Barnes muttered, “I am tired.”

The door opened and footsteps faded down the corridor. Barnes entered and tossed the candlestick so it clattered to the floor. You flinched and watched as he struggled to unclasp his cape with one hand. You saw the line between his brows as he grew frustrated. You went to him meekly and hesitantly reached for the buckle. He dropped his arm and let you free the cape.

He nodded and you slung it from the silver hook mounted upon the side of the great wooden wardrobe. You sensed him watching you and turned back to face him. You folded your hand, uncertain, and swayed slightly.

“He should not have done that,” Barnes, said, “you were right to fend him off.”

“My lord,” you replied diligently.

He let out another long breath and walked around the bed. He sat at the foot and watched you dwindle beneath the heat of his gaze. “Understand that you belong to me, first and foremost. You are mine. You do not raise your hand or your voice to me and you do only as I bid.”

“Yes, my lord,” you said.

He lowered his hand and undid his belt. He let it fall loose and unbuttoned the front of his dark vest. “Help me. I’ve already sent for hot water.”

You helped him as you did before. The layers stripped away around the weight of his metal arm. He was not shy of his nudity but he kept you from removing his arm, he did that himself and kept his scars in the shadows as best he could. He fell back, his legs bent over the bed and sniffed.

“Cover yourself in a nightshirt and let the servants in to draw the bath,” he ordered.

You pulled on one of his nightshirts and when the knock came you did as he bid. Servants carried in a large metal tub and a procession of steaming pots filled it with hot water. When it was full, you closed the door and resumed your place in the corner.

Barnes rose and went to the tub. He lowered himself into the water and his blue eyes lingered on you. His broad shoulders pressed against the beaten metal and his single arm stretched around the rim.

“Come here,” he said.

You went to him and stopped beside the tub. His eyes slipped to the nightshirt and his lips curved slightly.

“Take that off, get in,” he nodded to the tub.

You bit down and lifted the hem of the shirt. You put it aside and neared the tub again. You gripped the rim and stepped over the side. Barnes sat up slightly as you drew your second foot in and he directed you with one arm. You turned your back to him as he urged you down against him until your back was against his firm torso.

He purred and his hand fell to your stomach. He traced a trail up to your breasts and fondled them one at a time. You felt a twitch against you and he pushed his hand back down. His fingers crept up and down your body as he explored your flesh with little hums.

“Were you afraid?” he asked, “when Rogers appeared?”

You watched his hand and resisted the want to push him away. Despite the steaming water, you felt cold and distant, almost as if your body wasn’t bound to your mind.

“Yes,” you said, “yes, my lord. He woke me and I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did the right thing,” his lips brushed the top of your head, “you kept yourself for me.”

You held your breath. You hadn’t truly been thinking about him, about what he desired, you were only terrified and desperate, like that night he’d tried to have you. You trembled and let out the air as it began to burn your lungs. Your skin buzzed as it all sank in; you were naked, more so he was naked too, and you were laying there against him.

“My lord,” you eked out as his hand slipped lower and rested over your most intimate part.

He stayed like that for a time. You felt his heartbeat against you as he basked in the warmth of the water and your body. His hand would move back up and he’d hug you to him but then it would hover again along your vee and sometimes his fingers would caress your thigh.

“Are you truly sorry?”

“My lord?” you blinked as your daze was cracked.

“Are you sorry that you ran from me?”

You heard how brittle his voice was and felt the tension in his body. You touched his hand as it rested on your stomach.

“I am truly sorry, my lord,” you almost believed yourself, “I am only a foolish girl and my ignorance did scare me, not-- not you, my lord.”

He nuzzled your head and slid his hand away and twined his fingers between your. You felt his member prodding you from beneath and that scared you. You felt every bit of him against you; his raw strength and his pulsing desire. You closed your eyes and braced for what came next.

“We must begin for the capital tomorrow,” he said and your lashes fluttered in surprise, “that means we must rest. You may sleep in the bed beside me,” he squeezed your hand and moved it over chest, “would you like that?”

You thought of the cold stone and the ache in your bones, the way even now your bottom and legs seared from the welt across them. You pictured the long trek to the royal castle and the onslaught of autumn. It all fell over you like a suffocating shroud.

“Yes, my lord, I would like that,” you said.

He was quiet for a little longer as he held you against him. He groaned and shifted beneath you, “I only did what I had to,” he turned your hand over and traced the lines of your palm with his thumb, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You swallowed through your spite as your fear urged you to caution, “I know, my lord,” another painful lie lodged in your throat, “I… wronged you and I am sorry for it.”

[shelbazoidz]

Lady Dimitrescu x Reader, Teacher AU (WIP)

 because I have no self control or shame apparently

Your pen works over the previous day's homework as the clock ticks on the wall. Periodically you'll look up and see Cassandra with her brow furrowed as she erases something. She asked for the first ten minutes to work on the math problems on her own before you helped her. That hadn't been your initial plan but the twelve year old made a convincing argument so you let her work. Although it didn't look like it was going too well. Since there were five more minutes left you still respected her wishes.

"This is stupid!" The sudden outburst nearly makes you jump as you look up from your papers.

"What's wrong Cassandra?" You ask, moving from around your desk.

"Bela and Dani get to go do fun things after school and I'm stuck here because I'm too dumb to do math." Cassandra sits back in her chair glaring down at the worksheet as if it's taunting her. There are frustrated tears brimming in her eyes.

You squat down next to the desk. Her pencil is gripped so tightly you think it might break. You slowly take it from her hand and gently put it down.

"Cassandra, look at me." You say softly but firm enough that she eventually looks up at you with watery eyes.

"You are not dumb. Everyone struggles with something and that's perfectly normal. Okay?"

"Okay." She replies, still sounding sad.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You offer and she brightens a little.

"Yes."

"I struggled with math all the way until college." Your admission has her giving you a suspicious expression.

"You did? But you're a math teacher?" She says a little confused, still looking as if she didn't believe you.

"It's true." You laugh lightly at the questioning gaze. "I finally fell in love with it my first year of college and knew I wanted to teach by my second."

"I don't get people that like math." She looks back to the paper on the desk.

"How about we work through this first problem together?" You test and she chews on her lip before nodding.

"Alright." There's a smile that returns to her face as you start going over the problem.

The rest of your time together goes smoothly and Cassandra is actually able to do the rest on her own by the time you go through the first few together.

"Cass!!" A voice calls and you both look up seeing Daniela come bounding into the room with Bela trailing behind her. "Time to go. Mother is picking us up today." Her words make Cassandra beam. You stand from your seat as she quickly packs all of her things. Once she swings her book bag over her shoulder you grab the keys to your room and motion to the door.

"Come on girls, I'll walk you out." You go down the hallways with the chattering girls in tow, holding open the main door as they file past you. There's a car waiting out front. A woman is leaning against it and your mouth goes dry at the sight of her.

Your mind hadn't even registered that you'd be meeting Lady Dimitrescu right now. The other teachers had mentioned her a few times, always sounding a little fearful. You thought it was ridiculous you had to add 'Lady' to her name, but they urged you that it was a necessity. Now that you're looking at her you couldn't imagine calling her anything else.

She slides the sunglasses off her face and makes eye contact with you. All thoughts leave your mind when that enchanting gaze is on you. Her face is partially shadowed by the hat on her head and you swear it looks like her eyes were glowing for a moment but as soon as you blink it's gone.

"Mother!" Bela shouts, the three girls dash towards her. Lady Dimitrescu smiles fondly at them as they crash into her.

"Hello girls. How was your day?" She greets and is immediately bombarded with three voices talking at once. "Alright alright, I can only listen to one story at a time. We can chat on the way home." She says kissing each of them on the cheek before the girls gleefully pile into the back of the car.

Her eyes look to you again and she comes over. It strikes you how insanely tall she is. She has to be the tallest woman...no person you've ever met. You actually have to tilt your head up to meet her eyes when she's in front of you. It takes all of you to not outright stare at the perfectly tailored white pants suit she's wearing.

"Thank you for walking them out." She says with a smile.

"It wasn't a problem." You reply, surprised at how flustered you are. By the smirk on her lips you know she notices but she doesn't comment on it. Instead her eyes scan over your own attire and you shift a little under that piercing gaze. Something flashes in her eyes but it's gone so quickly you can't figure out what it was.

"Are you new? I don't believe we've met." She meets your eyes again.

"I started a few weeks ago." It's taking all your brain power to remember how to speak.

"You did now?" The velvety smooth tone of her voice has your mind going places it really shouldn't be right now. "What is your name?" She asks.

"Ms...Ms…" You practically forget your own last name when the scent of her floral perfume fills your nose. Eventually the name tumbles out of you. She repeats it, the sound makes your heart flutter a bit.

"Ah, so that's you. It's lovely to finally meet you. I'm Lady Dimitrescu. My girls have spoken fondly of you." She holds out her hand and you pray yours isn't sweating as you take it.

"I'm glad. They're wonderful to have in class." You reply trying to keep your voice steady.

"That's good to hear." She looks down at her watch and frowns slightly as if annoyed to have to leave. "Well I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

"Me too." You reply almost too quickly, mentally kicking yourself. She smirks at you again before placing her sunglasses back on. Wordlessly she walks back around the car and elegantly slides into the front seat.

You didn't know it was possible to be elegant doing something so simple.

She gives you another nod, the girls waving happily at you from the backseat. You smile and wave back as they pull off.

"Holy shit." You finally let out a breath.

Any more interactions with Lady Dimitrescu might actually kill you.

(This is actually out now if y’all are interested)

[istanleyff7]

TOTP, Episode Aerith, Scene 1-4

Final Fantasy VII Remake: Traces of Two Pasts Episode 2- Aerith Scenes 1 - 4

A Light Novel by Kazushige Nojima Translated by Stanley (@istanleyff7 on twitter)

Scene 1

Aerith Gainsborough was on Shinra Ferry No. 8, and like her friends, she was wearing a Shinra's military uniform. It was her first time on the sea, as well as on a ship. The ferry connecting Junon and Costa De Sol was unexpectedly lavish. Enticed by curiosity, she looked around the ferry. However, the wealthy passengers were not welcoming towards troopers. Driven away by the cold stares, she arrived at the bottom ferry's cargo hold. The goods and luggage were all over the place. Someone was already there.

"Hey, I heard this on the deck a while ago..."

It was Tifa Lockhart, clad in Shinra's equipment. One won't expect it based on her tender smile, but she's an excellent martial artist. She is a reliable companion, equipped with her unstoppable punches, diverse kicks and jumping power. It hasn't been long since they met. However, Aerith believed that the bonds that were fostered by overcoming critical situations were genuine.

"When you feel that you're becoming seasick, it seems that it's good to chat as a distraction."

"I see. Tifa, are you feeling sick?"

"Nahhh, I'm good."

"Me, too."

The conversation ended there. Soon after, Aerith noticed that Tifa wanted to speak. She's reserved at times.

"You wanna talk? Let's talk."

"I'd like to hear about you this time."

"Me?"

"I'm a good listener. You see, I am always doing so at the bar."

She straightened her posture and pretended to polish a glass.

"Hello, it's your first time here, isn't it. Where are you from?"

"Wow."

Aerith was in admiration.

"Do you live around here?"

"Nope. I live in the slums of Sector 5."

"I see. Sector 5 seems pretty lively too. Were you born there too?"

"Well...." Aerith hesitates to say. "It's probably hard to explain."

Tifa immediately sensed it. She had already spoken about her being an Ancient and about her being the last surviving one.

"Sorry, I've gone too far."

"Oh, not at all." Aerith denies it immediately.

"I was just a little taken back. There isn't anyone who says that they want to hear it, nor is there anyone I thought of telling. Well, you wanna hear it? You wanna hear it?"

"If it's alright with you."

"I'm good! I'm good!"

Scene 2

Ifalna, Aerith's mother, was the final pure-blooded descendant of the Ancients as both of her parents were Ancients. She was under the protection of Shinra. To collaborate with the various studies concerning the Ancients, she lived on the upper floors of the Shinra building for a long time. Except for having the freedom to go outside, she had a room that provided almost everything. Aerith lived with her mother, but she couldn't remember the day when she first entered that room. Her first memory was in that room too. As everyone around was adults, the only person she could call a friend was Ronnie, the son of Ifalna's caretaker, Mariel, who brought him along. He was two years older than her.

It was the year 1992. Aerith was seven years old. Her head was suddenly flooded with images. She saw not only landscapes and people that she had never seen before, but also the figures of animals and monsters too. Aerith's Ancient powers were awakened. The inexperienced Aerith could not only control these images, but she also could not ignore them. She painted on papers, painted on the walls and showed it to anyone who wanted to see them. She thought that by doing so, these mysterious "visions" would disappear.

Scene 3

"I understand now that up till then, I was a hostage, and to protect me, my mother had no choice but to obey Hojo. But because Hojo also knew that I inherited the powers of the Ancients, he was overjoyed. Because he discovered a successor, he started doing terrible things to my mother, which he hadn't done until then. And just like that, my mother's health began to break down..."

Scene 4

Because of Hojo and his fellow staff, Ifalna's “working” hours increased. She was made to work for Hojo's studies every day from morning till evening. She was weak every day, and she could not walk on her own. There were also times when Hojo's staff pushed her back into the room in a wheelchair. At that time, Fuzz Hicks appeared and was dressed in a lab coat. Out of all the staff that Aerith knew, Fuzz had the largest physique. His eyes, nose and mouth were huge too. He was a very trustworthy figure who easily carried Ifalna with his massive arms. 

When Fuzz came over, Ifalna begged him for medicine. She had a sad, sweet voice. Aerith did not say anything, but she did not like her mother whenever she made that kind of voice. She wanted her to be cured soon if she was ill.

“Fuzz, please…”

Aerith was almost sure that Fuzz knew it. He turned his back against the surveillance camera. He left a small bottle of medicine and a syringe, reminding her to keep it a secret from the other staff, and then he left. Ifalna used it on herself. Aerith could not see her mother sticking the needle in her arm, usually hiding in the sofa's shadow. 

Aerith has little memory of the calendar dates of events regarding her childhood. It was one night when she was seven years old. She snuggled under her mother's bed as usual. It was a habit she had since she knew she was being monitored. She covered herself entirely with a blanket.

"Aerith. Want to go on an adventure?" Ifalna whispered from the other side of the blanket.

“What will we be doing?” She had a longing and a fear towards the outside world.

"I miss it."

Aerith did not understand what her mother was feeling. However, she sensed that tears were mixed in with her voice. 

Aerith did not want to see her mother's face and got out from her blanket. Ifalna covered her face with her arm. The sleeves of her loose sleepwear were turned inside out. She had plenty of painful injection marks.

"If we head out, will you be okay, Mummy? You’re not going to take any more injections?"

“Yes. I think that will be so.”

"Well, let's go. But, I wonder if we can do it. The cameras are watching."

"Fuzz will help us out."

"Why will Fuzz help us out?"

There was a brief pause.

"Because he's a good person"

↞↠

Ifalna was taken out of the room as usual and returned in the evening. Fuzz was pushing the wheelchair.

"Yo Aerith," said Fuzz with his deep voice.

"The preparations are in order. I have prepared a secret house in the Sector 3 slums. You will also have a room. It's small, but we'll be leaving here."

He only told her that, and he left the room.

The emergency bell rang in the morning. Hurried by Ifalna, Aerith changed her clothes. It was clothes she had never seen before.

"Fuzz prepared these for us," Ifalna informed as she also wore her new clothes.

"Let's go."

"We will be seen."

"Don’t think like that."

Ifalna opened the door.

"It can't be. The lock is open. Why?"

The mother did not reply, took a deep breath and dashed out to the corridor. There was not a single person there. The bell signalling a crisis rang into their ears. 

"Experimental monsters are on the loose. Staff from the Science Department evacuate to a safe location," the public announcement monotonously announced.

"That's rough."

Aerith was frightened. However, Ifalna ascertained the direction and walked. She was hobbling. Her condition was good only when she opened the door. Aerith took her hand and kept up with her.

They turned at the first corner of the corridor. No staff were seen, and there were also no signs of wandering monsters. Ifalna rushed over to a wagon carrying cleaning tools; a large metal box attached with tiny wheels, with a long brush and mop, stuck into it. She slid her hand on the side of the wagon, and a part slid open. It was empty. There were supposed to be various cleaning agents and tools in there. The shelves and dividers were also removed. 

"We will be hiding in here. I'll head in first."

Ifalna bent her body and slipped into the box.

"Come, Aerith."

Invited by her voice, Aerith went inside. Ifalna pulled her knees towards herself to make space for her daughter. The petite Aerith quickly got in.

"We are going to be here for some time, so find yourself a comfortable position."

"Okay. This position is good."

"Got it."

After Ifalna closed the door, the wagon became pitch black. The public announcement remained unchanged and announced the experimental monsters’ escape. Before long, there was an indication that someone was nearby. The wagon vibrated lightly.

"It's me."

"I'm leaving it to you, Fuzz."

"We'll get going."

The wagon started to run.

"No matter what happens, do not make any noise."

"I'll be making a turn."

"It's an elevator. We will be transferring elevators several times."

From time to time, Fuzz could be heard. While in the elevator, Aerith became nauseous.

"Mummy, I don't feel good."

"It will be over soon."

When the free-falling feeling with the wagon was over, it started running again. As Fuzz mentioned, he will be transferring elevators several times.

"We're in a parking lot."

A different and unpleasant odour, unlike before, crept into the wagon.

"I'll be stopping soon. There'll be a truck, so hurry up and hop onto its cargo bed. I'll assist the both of you."

There was likely a change in the ground surface. A rattling sound came out from the wagon as it ran. The wagon soon stopped, and the door came open.

"Well then, hurry on."

Aerith was pulled out by the large hand that went into the wagon. He held Aerith up and placed her on the cargo bed as though she was an object.

"Move inside," Fuzz said as he also lightly placed Ifalna on the cargo bed.

"There are a few wooden crates. The innermost one is empty, so hide in it. Don't forget to close the lid. My cousin will be driving the truck. After arriving at the train station, the crate will be loaded onto the freight carrier. The cargo will eventually arrive at the Sector 4 slums station, so wait for me there."

"In the box?" Ifalna asked.

"Nope. I think you both will end up waiting for me somewhere at the station. I have a friend there, so follow her instructions. I've written the details in this letter," Fuzz said as he folded the paper and passed it to Ifalna.

"Where are you going, Fuzz?" Aerith asked.

"I'm heading back up to pretend to search for the both of you. If I get caught, it's going to cost me more than my neck."

The car horn sounded, and feelings of anxiety rushed in.

"Well, later then. There is food and water in the crate."

"How long do we have to wait for you to come?"

"At worst, till the last train," Fuzz said as he kissed the back of Ifalna's hand. Aerith was surprised and looked at Fuzz and her mother one after another.

"Fuzz, thank you."

The truck moved off before Ifalna could finish her words.

↞↠

The mother and daughter crawled on all fours on the swaying cargo bed and moved to the back. There were five wooden crates, one size larger than the cleaning tool wagon. After Ifalna found the empty box, she opened the lid and placed Aerith inside.

"Smelly..."

After leaving the room, they smelled various odours, but this was unbearable.

"Endure endure. We'll get used to it soon," Ifalna uttered as she also entered the crate. 

Aerith did not overlook the frown on Ifalna's face.

"You think it stinks too, Mummy!"

Ifalna stuck out her tongue, and after gazing at each other, they laughed.

Aerith noticed the paper bag at the bottom of the crate. There was also a portable torchlight, a pouch of dried fruits and nuts, a hard bread and a water bottle when she looked inside it. There was a thin envelope, so she peeked inside and found that there was money in it.

"I have to close the lid."

After struggling to close the lid, the crate went pitch black.

"Next, uh ... let's read the letter."

In the dark, there was a dry sound of Ifalna unfolding the paper.

"Aerith, may you shine at this for me?"

"Okay."

She had difficulty operating it, but Aerith found the switch and turned on the torchlight. In the cutout of the darkness, her mother's pale face was there, and sweat was oozing out from her forehead.

"Mummy, are you alright?"

"I'll be reading it, so remember this too, Aerith."

It seems that she does not intend to reply to her question.

"Okay."

“The plate on which the Shinra Building is built and the slums are connected by rail. This crate will be carried into the freight train as it is. After the train runs for a while, the inside of the crate will glow red, and it will be glowing several times. But you don't have to worry about it, and do not mind it."

“What does this mean?”

"Fuzz... He thinks I don't know anything, and he is right about that."

"I'm scared."

"He wrote not to worry, let's believe him."

"Okay..."

"After a while, you will realise that the railroad tracks will be running on ground level rather than at a descent. You will soon hear the train stoppage announcement. Once you hear it, get out of the box. Next, stand by the doorway at the width of the carriage. The last stop is the Sector 4 Slums Station. The door will open when you arrive. Give the money in the envelope to the person who opened the door. It's a reward. Rest assured that she is a friend of mine, and follow her instructions and wait until I pick you both up..."

Ifalna violently coughed before she could read it to the end. It was a long-lasting cough. She turned her head away and covered her mouth with her arm.

"The light... turn it off..." Ifalna said so and violently coughed again.

↞↠

The truck eventually came to a stop. The truck bed shook, along with the rattling sound of the cargo hitting each other. They sensed people in the vicinity. The unloading began. The handling work was rough, and the crate was even thrown down to its' side.The mother and child endured through the shaking and pain in the crate. Ifalna embraced Aerith in her arms and held her daughter's leaking voice with her palm. 

"We got to press on."

Silence came. They were relieved in that brief moment, then the loading operation on the freight train started.

"This is going to the Sector 4 Slums."

After hearing the muffled voice of a man, the box started to move. Again, the crate was handled recklessly. They used their hands, feet, and back to anchor their bodies down and clenched their teeth.

Shortly after that, the loading came to an end. There was a heavy, loud sound as the freight car door closed. After the train started running, it began to make a periodically repeating rattling noise. Eventually, the rhythmic sound becomes pleasant. Aerith dozed off and was half asleep. She woke up suddenly and looked at her mother's face. Ifalna's profile, dimly lit by the torch that was left on, was as beautiful as usual. In her line of sight, she noticed Ifalna smiling. Aerith was relieved, and she closed her eyes again. She finally slept.

In her dream, Aerith was painting.

When she woke up, Ifalna was coughing violently again.

"Are you alright, Mummy?"

"Yup... Give me a moment," 

Her voice got hoarse. Soon after adjusting her breathing —

"It looks like the descent stopped some time ago. The red lights are over too, so perhaps we'll be arriving soon?

"Ehhhh!? I wanted to see the red lights!"

"You said you were scared of it."

Ifalna laughed.

"I want to see it even if I'm scared."

At that moment, the inside of the crate was tainted red. The two were surprised and looked at each other.

"It turned red!"

"Yup! It turned red."

"I wasn't scared at all."

"Hey, Aerith. Let's eat something. We don't know when we'll be able to eat next."

Ifalna tore up the bread in the bag into pieces, handed it to Aerith, and ripped open the pouch of dried fruits.

"I wonder if this is like a picnic."

Aerith stuck the bread on her cheek.

"What's a picnic?" Ifalna asked. 

After Aerith swallowed the bread —

"I heard from Ronnie. People would take along food, head out, walk a lot and eat. It seems that they don't eat anything sometimes. But Ronnie has never been to one before."

"Hmm. I really don't know, but walking seems to be fun."

Under the dim light shone from the portable torchlight placed on the floor, Ifalna offered her the remaining bread.

"Aren't you eating, Mummy?"

"I've already eaten. I ate it while you were sleeping with your mouth open."

She thought it was a lie. However, Aerith inflated her cheeks and showed her anger.

The train slowed down, and Ifalna coughed violently again.  She shook her shoulders violently to hold down the cough.

"I'm really okay."

"Alright."

Aerith felt even more worried as she was reminded again that her mother was ok.

"Next station,... Four Slums. Sector Fo... lums," a muffled voice could be heard. It's the train stoppage announcement.

"Let's get out of the crate, shall we?"

They flipped the lid up. Ifalna comes out first and pulls Aerith up. Although the train was slowing down, the train carriage was rattling and shaking. 

"This is fun!"

Aerith planted both her feet down to keep her balance. Ifalna held on to the crate to support herself.

“Aerith”

“Yup.”

“Never forget that feeling, okay?”

“Which feeling?”

“The feeling that you’ll enjoy anything.”

“Hmmm, I understand.”

“Hey hey, Aerith, look at this.” Ifalna pointed to the label on the crate which they were in.

"What's written on it?"

"From Shinra Company to Shinra Company. To be stored at Sector 4 Station. Dangerous goods. It is strictly prohibited to open it en-route..."

"We are dangerous goods?"

"That's rude."

Ifalna laughed, and the train slowed down again to a stop. Aerith lost her balance and clung to her mother as she almost fell over. 

"Stay silent for a moment, Aerith. Leave this to me."

She looked up at her mother to see what she meant. She wasn't smiling anymore.

It was a young woman who opened the door. She had a pouty face and wore loose-fitting overalls. Her whole body was covered in dirt.

"Are you a friend of Fuzz?" Ifalna asked.

She nodded her head.

"Here you go. It's the reward."

Ifalna held out the envelope.

"I told him I didn't need it..."

“But…”

In the end, the lady snatched the envelope and pushed it into her back pocket.

"Get off. Quickly."

The carriage floor was well above the ground, a height that anyone would need help with. However, the lady was keeping watch of the surrounding people.

"Okay. I'll head down first."

Ifalna disappeared from Aerith's line of sight as she had jumped off. A painful moan could be heard.

"Mummy!"

"Hurry up," the lady's sharp voice pierced through their ears.

Ifalna apologised as she stood up, looking back at Aerith and reached out to her with both hands. Aerith was worried whether the woman in dirty clothing would get angry again, so she hurriedly jumped on her mother's body.That force caused Ifalna to stumble. She almost fell over while holding onto Aerith but managed to get her balance after taking a few steps.

"It's already chaotic at the top. Hide in the container yard until Fuzz picks you up," The woman pointed to a place stacked up with a lot of containers. 

"When the sun sets, consignees will enter and exit the yard, so don't be discovered. That would be a pain."

"How much longer until the sun goes down?" Ifalna asked.

"In about four hours."

The woman tried to leave, but Ifalna called out to stop her and asked, "Which direction is Sector 3 in?"

The woman pointed out the direction with her chin, and as though she was escaping from them, she headed back to work.

"Mummy, let's hide quickly?"

"Yup. Let's do so."

The woman looked back once she reached the end of the train carriage and pointed towards the container yard. She was probably telling them to head over quickly.

"Aerith."

Ifalna held out her hand.

"From here on out, it's a real adventure. Let's go."

Ifalna held Aerith's hand.

"Mummy, why is your hand hot?"

"It's because I'm excited."

Ifalna laughed, and they started walking towards the rear of the carriage they had just got off. The carriage they were riding on was at the end. When they went around the carriage and crossed over the rail, they could see the station building. The woman from earlier disappeared into the station building. They saw some others in uniforms that looked like railway workers.

"Mummy, where are we going!?"

Aerith was extremely worried. However, her mother did not say a word. Instead, she held her hand firmly and started walking. They headed towards the wire mesh fence that was directly in front of them. There were a lot of people coming and going on the road over there.

"Mum!?"

"Let's climb over this fence."

"Ehhhh?"

The fence was about two metres tall.

"I can't."

"But we have to. Otherwise the adventure will be over."

In the end, they clung to the fence.

"Well, let's have fun!" Ifalna uttered.

Passers-by across the wired fence saw them, but nobody stopped walking.

"First, grab a high spot on the wired fence with both hands, and then put the toes of your left foot into the wired fence."

"Ohhh."

Aerith was confused, but she managed to be in the same position as her mother.

“Next, apply some strength to your hands and put your right toe into the fence.”

“Okay.”

"Once you can do that, move your right hand to grab the fence higher up. Then, also move your left hand to grab at the same height."

"Ah, I got it! Next will be my legs."

Aerith felt that she understood how to climb the wired fence.

"Mummy, look!"

While making a rattling noise, she climbed the fence in a blink of an eye.

"Nicely done, Aerith. Now from there, climb over."

"Hey! Get down from there!" came a piercing, angry voice.

Aerith saw a station employee running over.

"Mummy!"

Ifalna saw the station employee.

"Aerith, quickly get going!"

"You too, Mummy!"

Ifalna started climbing the wired fence. She was frustratingly slow.

"Hey!"

The station employee was getting close. The scene gathered the eyes of passers-by. At that moment...

"Hey! Hurry up!"

They looked over. A tall adult male was reaching out his hand. Aerith was confused. He was probably an acquaintance of her mother, but that should not be the case.

"Hey! Let's go!"

Before Aerith knew it, Ifalna got up to the same height and got over the fence. The station staff extended his hand out, but he barely could not reach her. Finally, Ifalna got over to the other side, reached out and grabbed the chest area of Aerith's clothes and pulled firmly. Aerith could not help but lose her balance and almost fell headfirst outwards of the fence. However, a pair of solid hands supported Aerith.

"You alright?" the man asked Ifalna while lowering Aerith to the ground. 

However, Ifalna was coughing harshly and could not answer.

"Riding without a ticket is a serious crime!"

The station employee also started to climb the fence.

"It’s a serious crime which too many people commit, and you can't catch those culprits."

"Thank... you," Ifalna finally answered.

"You're welcome."

The man then struck the fingers of the station employee, who was grabbing the wired fence, with his fist. The station staff screamed away from the wired fence.

"Shinra bastard, damn y'all!"

After hailing abuse at the station employee, the man walked away as if nothing had happened. The station employee was panting heavily and glared at the man.

"Which direction is Sector 3 in?" Ifalna abruptly asked the station employee.

Not only the station employee but Aerith was also surprised at this.

"Who would teach you!" the station employee's angry voice froze Aerith's legs.

"Very well. Pardon us for our rudeness." Ifalna calmly apologised to the station employee 

She then took Aerith's hand and left the station. When they looked back, the station employee was glaring at them. However, he was soon hidden in the flow of passers-by.

"Ahhh, that was heart-wrenching."

Ifalna coughed. When Aerith looked up, she saw the radiant face of her mother.

↞↠

There was no sign of anyone chasing them. The mother and daughter were moving away from the Sector Four Slums Station. Looking up, they could see the underside of the steel city. They were overwhelmed by the orderly combination of the steel-framed plate. Many people lived on it, there was the Shinra Building, and they were way high up on it. The scale was too large for Aerith to picture it well.

"Aerith, if you just look up, you'll fall."

"Okay."

Indeed,  none of the surrounding commuters were looking up. It's a natural sight for slum dwellers. From time to time, Aerith could hear mysterious noises. She could also hear angry voices. And as expected, nobody cares.

"Mummy, who was the person that helped us at the station?"

"I think he's someone who hates Shinra. It seems that there are many of these kinds of people in the slums."

"How do you know about the slum, Mummy?"

"I asked a lot of people. For a day like this."

"Even on how to climb a wired fence?"

"Yup. If Professor Hojo weren't around, everyone would talk to me a lot."

"Actually, everyone is a nice person."

"I wonder. Everyone sympathised and cared for me, but no one helped me out. The truly good people are those that not only say that they'll help but also act on it."

"I wonder what Fuzz is doing."

Aerith waited for a while, but her mother didn't answer.

"Hey, Aerith, I want to rest for a bit. Shall we go over there?"

Ifalna pointed towards a small plaza in front of them. They saw several benches.

↞↠ You’re on page 24/142 of Aerith’s segment of the Light Novel.  Next Scenes: Scenes 5-9 Back to Content Page (click/tap here)

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[in-my-feels-probably]

INEFFABLE - Kaz Brekker

Chapter Two

If you would like to read this on Wattpad, it’s on there as well, my @ is in_my_feels_probably and there’s a few visuals and better descriptions and stuff on there. otherwise, enjoy, let me know what you think, and you can check out my masterlist for updates and more. don’t forget to read the prologue, it’s important to the story!

INEFFABLE – Kaz Brekker

ineffable (adj.) too great to be expressed in words, utterly indescribable; too sacred to speak of. 

Chapter Two

An hour later, and the Crows were headed to Dreesen’s estate, a Heartrender in tow. If Pekka Rollins wasn’t already pissed off, he would be now, considering they took the only Heartrender available for the night. She was rather nice, well dressed and polite, not something often seen in the Barrel, but it was clear she was beginning to grind down Kaz’s patience.

“I really appreciate the new business, but you’ve only paid for an hour of my time, and I have to be back at the Orchid.”

“The Orchid isn’t safe tonight. Your life’s in danger with this job. Make yourself scarce for a few days afterwards.” Kaz continued walking, the Heartrender growing increasingly anxious.

“Mr. Brekker, really? Are you threatening me? Even if I’m nice, my boss will call the stadwatch on you.”

“It’s not me you’re in danger with, it’s Pekka Rollins.” Kaz had turned around and stopped to speak, nearing the gate to the estate.

“My boss would call the stadwatch on him as well.”

Elham laughed at that. “You really think if Rollins got to your boss that he’s still alive? Your boss is already dead, how naive can you be? I suggest you start paying attention, nobody’s going to be around to save you when the Barrel comes to swallow you up.”

They continued towards the gate, when a man yelled across the courtyard. “Who are you lot?”

Kaz stopped behind the gate. “We’re here to see Dreesen.”

“You’re not with Pekka’s crew.”

Elham pulled the counterfeit coin from the gambling tables earlier that night out of her pocket, tossing it to the guard. Kaz let the tiniest smirk set on his face, before speaking again. “And you’re not in Pekka’s pocket anymore if you don’t owe him.”

He gave Elham a slight nod, and they continued through the gate to the estate’s front entrance. Jesper sped up to catch up with Elham. “Hey, where did you get that coin?” She smirked, only to have it fall from her face, when the guard yelled across the courtyard once more.

“Hey! One of these has a hole in it!”

Shit. Elham put her hand on the back of Jesper’s jacket, pushing him along quicker, picking up her pace, nodding for the rest of the crew to follow. “Go! Go, go, go.”

“Saints, Elham!” Jesper let out a laugh, making a dash for the entrance.

“Just get inside!”

---

They were led through the house by a guard, all the way to Dreesen’s office. The guard opened the door, and Kaz stepped in first, Elham finding her spot next to him. Dreesen looked up from his desk and sighed. “One look and I can tell. Criminals. I’m not meeting anyone till midnight.”

Elham smirked at that. Criminals? Isn’t everyone in the Barrel a criminal? And is it that easy to tell?

Kaz seemed to hold in his usual look of annoyance. “We heard you needed a Heartrender.”

Dreesen stood from his desk, contemplating. “Hmm. Alright, she stays. The rest of you, out.”

The Heartrender smiled and started walking forward, only for Kaz’s cane to swiftly come up and block her from walking any further. Elham wondered if they had any idea who they were talking to. Kaz Brekker seems to always get what he wants, and this wasn’t going to be any different.

“She stays. And we have an exclusive on the job.”

“Mr. Brekker, no businessman worth his salt hires his first applicant.”

Elham was growing impatient. Barrel men. Not good men. She had had enough of Dreesen’s company, and she spoke up. “Mr. Dreesen, we understand your predicament. What would I possibly know about conducting a business? It goes right over my head. Of course, I would have to report you to the guild for kidnapping a prisoner. Seems a little bit like criminal business to me. And we would know, right? Doesn’t really seem like an ethical thing you did, does it?”

Her voice was laced with sarcasm, feigning innocence and naivety. She played with the hilt of her sword that was wrapped around her waist, acting as a belt. One of Dreesen’s guards pulled back his coat to reveal a pistol on his hip. She glanced back at Jesper, who smirked at her, revealing his pistols. She casually unsheathed her sword, flicking her wrist to extend it.

“So, Mr. Dreesen. How about that prisoner? I’m sure the guild would love to hear about it.” She said casually, wiping the end of her blade with her shirt, before wrapping it back around her waist and into place.

Dreesen seethed. “You wouldn't.”

Kaz spoke up this time. “It’s like you said. No businessman worth his salt bargains for what he can take.”

Dreesen hopped up from his desk, moving to stand directly in front of Kaz, staring him down. He glanced down at Elham, who’s gaze was piercing, almost as if she was challenging him. He let out a sigh. “Saint’s, Brekker. Chain up your attack dog before she gets herself in an unwanted position.”

Kaz’s jaw clenched at the threat, Elham suddenly standing rigid and alert. “My attack dog? You must be mistaken. That’s my Valkyrie. She doesn’t take very kindly to threats either.”

Dreesen’s eyes momentarily flashed with fear at the mention of the Valkyrie, a few guards even took a step back. The room was tense, and Elham’s hand had returned to the hilt of her sword.

The Heartrender broke the moment of silence, raising her hand. “Excuse me? I have to be back at the Orchid in an hour.”

Inej eyed the Heartrender, before turning her gaze to the staring match going on in front of her. Dreesen finally caved. “Alright, come on.”

Kaz let out a breath, eyeing Elham. She knew she was going to get a lecture for that little show she put on. Dreesen led them down to the basement of the estate, where the prisoner was tied to a chair, a bag over his head.

Kaz looked unimpressed. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, so you don’t know everything after all? This...is Alexei Stepanov.��� He took the bag off the prisoner's head, revealing a young man, covered in cuts and bruises, hair and clothes disheveled. “Two weeks ago, young Alexei here, crossed through the Fold on foot. Alone.”

The Crows glanced around at each other. Inej stepped forward. “How?”

“They’re keeping it quiet, but allegedly, he was one of a few witnesses to...an event.”

Alexei was now eyeing the crows. “Water.” He croaked out. Inej glared at Dreesen, and moved to the pitcher on the table, pouring a glass, taking it over to Alexei and helping him drink.

“What kind of event?”

“I know an expedition was swarmed by volcra. Should’ve been a total loss. But something happened. Some device detonated. Obliterated the volcra, lit up the dark like a forest fire. I know it wasn’t a fire or else no one would have survived. This was some invention no one had seen before. He knows, but he doesn't seem to be able to articulate his account of events. Some form of traumatic lapse. So…”

Dreesen had gone and stood by the Heartrender, gesturing towards Alexei. Inej stepped out of the way as she approached Alexei, kneeling beside him and taking a hold of his wrist.

“You’re safe now.” She began lowering his pulse. “Now you can just speak, and I will just listen.”

Alexei’s hesitation was gone as he stared intently at the Heartrender. “All right.”

“Tell me what happened in the Fold. What saved you?”

“You won’t believe me, but...it was a Sun Summoner.”

Inej inhaled, gasping. Elham moved closer to her. She had never believed in Saints, never having a reason to. But a Sun Summoner, even she could have some belief in. She had to. With the Fold looming, and Baghra’s warnings to her about the General, she had to believe in something that would give her hope.

Dreesen put his glass down, kneeling in front of Alexei. “Who was it?”

“If I tell you, you’ll set me free?”

Elham’s heart broke for him. She knew any promise to freedom was a hollow one, that Alexei was a liability, they’d never let him go. She took a deep breath, swallowing her rage, before listening back in on the conversation.

“Her name is...Alina Starkov.”

“Good boy.” Dreesen stood up, walking back to one of his guards. “Show me the manifest.” He glanced over the papers handed to him. “Ah, perfect.”

“You’ll set me free now?” Alexei asked, still being comforted by the Heartrender.

“Thank you, of course.” Dreesen pulled a pistol from his waist, turning around, and lodging a bullet right in Alexei’s skull. The Heartrender screamed, jumping back, and Alexei’s body tipped back in the chair, falling to the ground. Blood seeped onto the floor.

Elham seethed, gripping Inej’s hand. Dreesen walked to stand over Alexei’s body, then turned to the Crows.

“Hmm. We are now the only people west of the Fold with this information. My ship sails for West Ravka at dawn. If you can prove that you have a way through the Fold and back, I’ll put you on that ship with an advance. If you don’t, I’m giving this job to Pekka Rollins.”

Kaz inhaled at the name. “Give me a day. I’ll have a plan.”

“You have until sunrise, then your ship will have sailed, Mr. Brekker. The prize is one million kruge. Now bring me Alina Starkov.” Dreesen headed back up the stairs, leaving the Crows standing there. They turned, facing Alexei’s body.

Elham turned, facing Kaz, getting his attention. “Well. Looks like we have quite the job to do. I vote we get out of this house before I walk up those stairs and lodge my sword in Dreesen’s back, and we get no kruge at all.”

Jesper let out a chuckle at that, turning to head up the stairs. “Ah, I love when the Valkyrie comes out. She scares the absolute hell out of me, but still, very entertaining.”

---

A/N - here's chapter two, i'm excited to get further into this story and make it more interesting than just setting out the beginning plot. i have a lot planned, and i'm very excited. thank you so much for the support, and feel free to comment or message with anything!

[yugirl]

Day 18: “This Wasn’t in the Rule Book.”

Crossovers, coffee shops, and canon divergence collide today in the wonderful world of AU! Go nuts.

((Magical girl au? Magical girl au! @pridewhatpride my love?? This is for you!))

~~~~~~~~~

I gritted my teeth and looked up with fear and dread. It was no use… the Light of Destruction was so strong and so powerful.

Jaden was struggling to get up; Bastion was struggling to breathe; Jesse couldn’t move.

But… I couldn’t let it end like this…

“Yellow… Green… Black…” I whispered. My spirit partners appeared and looked in concern.

“What are you gonna do, boss…?!” Yellow squeaked.

“I’m going to keep fighting with everything I have… but I understand if you three don’t… if you want to run… now’s your chance….”

Jaden seemed to see what I was doing and summoned Winged Kuriboh.

“Chazz is right… just because we’re going to keep fighting doesn’t mean you guys have to… so if you want to get out of here, then go….”

Bastion grunted, “there’s no need for you to put yourself at risk if you don’t want to Pikeru… go….”

Jesse looked at the Crystal Beasts. “I’m with them… you’ve all been by my side from start to finish, but I want you to be safe….”

“YOU'RE INSANE!!” Yellow squawked.

“Huh?”

“Sure, I may be a scaredy-cat, but I’m not backing down when we’re this close to the finish line!!”

Green nodded in agreement. “Yeah!! If you’re gonna keep fighting, boss, then we are too!!”

“That’s right!! Brothers stick together!!” Black added.

I couldn’t help but smile “thanks, you guys….”

Winged Kuriboh seemed to mewl in protest as well, nuzzling against Jaden and assuring he was staying.

“Thanks, Pal…” Jaden smiled.

“Yeah! If you losers even think you’re fighting without us, think again!” Pikeru said smugly.

“Thanks, Pikeru…” Bastion chuckled and patted her head.

“Your friends are right, Jesse….” Topaz Tiger nodded.

“we’ve all come so far together, and as you said, we’ve been here from start to end. But it’s not the end yet….” Amythest Cat added.

Jesse teared up and nodded. “Thank you!!”

I used my lighting spear to help myself stand up before turning to help the others up one at a time…

“If this really is the end… I just want you to know…I… I love you guys….” I muttered.

Jaden teared up and nodded. “I love you too!”

Bastion wrapped an arm around Jaden to comfort him. “I love you all as well….”

Jesse teared up too and pulled us all into a hug. “I love you all too!! Thank you so much for staying with me and helping me complete my mission!!”

We hugged each other for the longest time, our hearts burning… no, they weren’t burning; they were glowing.

“What is this!?” I gasped

“Could this be… a new power?” Jesse wondered.

Suddenly four rainbow coloured crystals appeared, a star, a gem, a heart and a diamond.

“This isn’t anything like the rainbow dragon….” Bastion whispered

“That’s because it’s not!” Jaden explained, “I can feel it… this is our power!!”

I looked to my friends… the three boys I met on this journey, and the spirit partners who stuck with us. This indeed was the final battle.

“Everyone… LET’S GO!!”

“Right!!”

The rainbow crystals resonated with each of us. The power was overwhelming.

All of us ascended into the sky,

“SUMMON RAINBOW DUEL SPIRIT FUSION!!”

Thanks to the rainbow crystals, we transformed one last time into new, more powerful forms. It was time.

The light of destruction couldn’t believe that we were still fighting. It thought it had destroyed us once and for all.

“No matter what happens, we’ll always keep fighting to protect those we love!!” Jesse declared

“We want to live and pursue the future!!” Jaden added

“Destruction may always exist, but creation and life are needed to maintain balance!” Bastion stated

“And that’s why we can’t bow down to the likes of you!!” I pointed my spear at him. “We will defeat you once and for all!!”

Jaden charged in first, his new gauntlets glowing with power.

The light of destruction fired a laser towards us in response, but Jaden was having none of it.

“レインボー　コスミククラシ!!”

“RAINBOW COSMIC CRUSH!!”

He punched through it, blasting the light in different directions, leaving earth and us unharmed.

The light was baffled. It couldn’t comprehend this power.

“My turn!!”

Bastion flew towards the light and readied his throwing knives.

“レインボータイダルブラスト!!”

“RAINBOW TIDAL BLAST!!”

The knives surged through space, pinning the light to the spot and rendering it helpless as the power of the elements coursed through it. It had nowhere to run now.

Jesse went next, readying his sword. He was ready to avenge everyone and everything the light had ever hurt.

“レインボークリスタルストリーム!!”

“RAINBOW CRYSTAL STREAM!!”

The rainbow light burst from his sword and started to break the light up. It tried to escape, but it had me to deal with.

“THIS IS FOR EVERYONE YOU’VE MANIPULATED AND HURT!!”

I raised my spear high into the air, Channeling my lightning powers.

“レインボーデルタサンダー!!”

“RAINBOW DELTA THUNDER!!”

The light screamed in pain and agony. It wasn’t done. It conjured up his power for one final attack, but we knew it was on its last legs.

“EVERYONE WITH ME!!”

We gathered together, and with the power of our bond, our weapons fused together, creating a brand new weapon—the Miracle Rainbow Spear.

“Impossible!!” The light snapped, “don’t you know if you use all your power, the worlds will be separated!?”

“Even so… I have a sworn duty to protect both this world and the spirit world…” Jesse reflected “, my friends have shown me the true importance of being the crystal protector, and I will always treasure that… I will never forget that even if we are separated!!”

“People come and go… that’s an unfortunate part of life… but I will not cry when it’s over….” Bastion felt a grin grow on his face, “I will smile because I’ll remember every precious memory we’ve given each other!!”

“No matter what comes between us, we will always be together no matter where we are in one world or another….” Jaden added, holding back tears. “OUR FOUR HEARTS WILL ALWAYS BEAT AS ONE!!”

“It’s funny… when this journey began, I didn’t want anything to do with these guys… but now I don’t want this adventure to end….” I smiled “but I know they’re right!! No matter what happens, we’ll always be together!! I’ll never forget any of this and the friendships we made!!”

Our hearts beat as one as the spear resonated with us. It was time to end this.

“ミラクルレインボーレフラクション!!”

“MIRACLE RAINBOW REFRACTION!!”

The bright colour exploded from the spear charging towards the light, eliminating the white completely

“Stop it!! It’s too bright!! Stop it!!”

I screamed as I thrust the spear forward, charging with one last burst of energy.

“IMPOSSIBLE…. I AM THE LIGHT I AM ALL POWERFUUUUUL” piece by piece it was disintegrated

It was over…he was gone…

The four of us floated through space, relieved it was all over.

“Y’all… thank you so much for your help… I can’t believe it’s all over….” Jesse sighed

“Yeah…” I smiled. “I’m glad we were able to save everyone….”

“Now humans and duel spirits and live in peace….” Jaden nodded

“Indeed, a happy ending all round”, Bastion chuckled.

Suddenly Jesse and the duel spirits started glowing.

“Huh!? Jesse, what’s happening!?”

“It’s time, guys… I’m going back to the spirit world….”

“N-now!? But I thought we had more time!! I thought we’d at least spend more time together!!” Bastion gasped

“Sorry, y’all… I don’t make the rules, my missions over, and now it’s time to go home….”

“You can’t go, Jesse!! There’s still so much I wanted to do!!”

“Jesse, please!! We love you!!”

“I love y’all too!! But remember what we said… we’ll always be together… no matter what… we’ll see each other again… I know it!!”

Winged Kuriboh flew over to Jaden, who eagerly hugged him. “I’ll miss you too, Winged-Kuriboh!”

“I’m gonna miss you!!” Pikeru sobbed

“I’ll miss you too, Pikeru….” Bastion sighed and patted her head “don’t forget me, alright?”

“I don’t think I could ever forget a loser like you….” Pikeru giggled before flying in to hug him.

“BOOOOOOSS!!”

I pulled the Ojamas into a tight hug. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was going to miss them a lot.

“We love you, boss!!”

“I… I love you guys too… take care now, alright…?”

I slowly let go, and the Duel Spirits flew back to Jesse, all returning to their world while we returned to ours…

I don’t remember much after that… the months sort of flew by, and I graduated high school. Bastion left to work with Professor Eisenstein, Jaden disappeared after graduation… That was the last I saw of th-

“That can’t be the end!!”

“Huh?” I looked down to my oldest daughter “what do you mean, Aurora?”

“That can’t be how it ends!!” Aurora protested, “did you really get separated forever!?”

“That’s so sad!!” Rosalie, my second daughter, nodded.

“Uh-huh!” My son Damien agreed.

“Well, I said we got separated. I never said forever….” I mumbled

“S-so, did you get to see each other again?” Rosalie asked.

“I don’t know….” I pulled my kids onto my lap and hugged them “do you want us to see each other again?”

“I do, I do!”

I chuckled and hugged them all close. “Maybe we’ll see each other again….”

I heard the door open and the sound of tired shuffling.

“Oh, let’s see who’s home!!”

Aurora jumped up first and dashed out the door, seeing the three exhausted adults.

“DADDY! PAPA! MOM!”

“Hey, Aurora!” Jesse grinned and picked her up, giving her the biggest hug.

Rosalie ran over to Bastion and hugged him tightly. She was always a papa’s girl.

Damien and I chuckled and walked over to Jaden, both greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.

“How was work?”

“Oh, you know the usual!” Jaden smirked.

I walked over to Jesse and wrapped my arms around him, planting a firm kiss on his lips.

“Mmm, that’s nice! What was that for?” Jesse grinned

“I just missed you a lot today….” I smiled.

Well, it seemed to work. The kids wanted us to meet up again. And we did.

[inkyhorror]

The Royal Guard

Chapter 2

“Like I said, no need to be tense. Relax, I’m not here to hurt you.” He seems relaxed enough. Though you suppose it is easy to relax around someone when you know for a fact you are leagues stronger than them. You on the other hand, find yourself at the mercy of one of the most powerful entities in the universe. Even so you make an effort to release the tension in your body. It would be unwise to offend the Demon King even if accidentally. You clear your throat and speak in a much stronger voice.

“Then why are you here?”

The long awaited second installment of the collaborative fanfiction project I am working on with the wonderfully talented @asmosmainhoe. Please let us know what you think of it!

First     Previous     Masterlist

“You’re... Lord Diavolos father?” The world seems to spin as the realization hits you all at once. Of course, that is who he reminds you of. The resemblance is uncanny. Everything from the curve of his jaw to the warm golden color of his eyes. Even the delicate grace with which he brings the mug to his lips reminds you of Diavolo. In your momentary shock you forget about the vase in your hands until it starts to slip from your grip. You manage to catch it just before it hits the ground. With a sigh of relief you gently place it on the table next to you. The Demon King chuckles and your attention is once more drawn to him. You lock eyes with him for just a moment but it is enough to make you feel uncomfortable. You look away, finding it difficult to make eye contact when he is watching you so intently.

“There is really no need to be so tense.” The Demon King takes another sip of his tea and sets the mug down on the table. He takes a moment to admire the design on the side of it, an elegant and colorful lion dashing across the ceramic surface.

“Why are you here?” You manage to ask. Your voice is much quieter than you would have liked, every shred of courage lost while under his gaze. The Demon king frowns and quirks an eyebrow. “I mean,” you stammer, “to what do I owe this visit?” Your body tenses as you wait for his reaction. To your surprise he lets out a hearty chuckle.

“Like I said, no need to be tense. Relax, I’m not here to hurt you.” He seems relaxed enough. Though you suppose it is easy to relax around someone when you know for a fact you are leagues stronger than them. You on the other hand, find yourself at the mercy of one of the most powerful entities in the universe. Even so you make an effort to release the tension in your body. It would be unwise to offend the Demon King even if accidentally. You clear your throat and speak in a much stronger voice.

“Then why are you here?”

“To talk. Please, drink your tea. I made it special for you and that is not something I do very often.” He gestures to the mug in front of you. It is the one that Barbatos had gotten for you as a gift back in the Devildom, the one shaped like a cute little sheep painted in pastel tones. You pick it up and take a tentative sip. It tastes normal. Delicious even. Probably not poisoned. Not that you would know what poison tastes like anyways. Throwing caution to the wind you take a few big gulps.

“Thank you. It’s really good.” You hold the cup in both hands, allowing the warmth seep into your palms.

“Mmm. Tea from the human world can be quite delicious. Personally, I prefer Devildom tea. What do you think?”

“About the tea?”

“About the Devildom.” The Demon King leans forward. “What do you think of it?” It feels like his eyes are boring into your very soul. All things considered it is actually a very real probability. You were never really sure how Diavolo was able to tell when someone was lying. Maybe it was small changes in their heartbeat or temperature, like how they do in TV dramas. Maybe he could see it in their very soul. Either way if that ability is hereditary, if the Demon King could also see through lies, then it would be useless to say anything but the truth. Actually, it might even be detrimental to your safety to be deemed untrustworthy.

“I... I really like it there.” You stare into your mug, unable to maintain eye contact. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t really sure at first. I mean, I was basically kidnapped when they brought me there for the exchange program. But after a while I really grew to like it there. It’s like a second home to me. I feel like everyone I met there is family.” You feel your face heat up. It was all true of course. Saying it out loud however made you feel rather embarrassed. This must be how Mammon feels every time he tries to talk about his feelings. How awful.

“And Diavolo?” The question is not unexpected but it still causes your heart to leap.

“That seems like a loaded question coming from you.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Out of the corner of your eye you see the Demon King shrug his shoulders.

“Well, that depends on your answer now doesn’t it?” He has a point. Not that it makes you feel any better. This whole conversation makes you uncomfortable but this question in particular puts you on edge. Nothing about this situation seems right. This man breaks into your home and demands that you entertain his questions. Rather strange questions at that. Why does he care so much about your relationship with the Devildom? With the demons? Still, despite your apprehension you thought it best to play along for just a little longer. Hopefully if you cooperate you might be able to learn something about his intentions.

“I owe Diavolo a lot. He was the one who brought me into the Devildom. It’s because of him that I got to meet everyone.” Your answer is curt but you hope it will suffice.

“Is that all?” The Demon King leans back into his seat. He crosses one leg over and settles in, clearly expecting more. Damn. It looks like you are going to have to give a little more if you want anything in return. You sigh and take a moment to organize your thoughts before speaking. 

“No. Diavolo is...” You swirl your mug, absentmindedly watching the tea sediment swirl and disperse back into the liquid. “He is one of my dearest friends. We became really close during my time in the exchange program. I trust him. Like I said before, he’s like family to me.” Silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity while you wait for the Demon King to respond. Finally he nods his head almost imperceptibly.

“Good. That’s good. You know I was worried about the kind of people my son kept in his company while I was away. He’s a kind soul. Much too kind for a demon I think. But it is reassuring to know he is a good judge of character at least.”  He seems to be telling the truth, much to your surprise. The stories Diavolo had told you about his father painted the picture of a man that did not care much about his son. Yet the look of relief on his face suggests otherwise. “I have one last question for you.” You huff loudly. Another one? This interrogation has gone on long enough. Anger flares in your stomach and gives you the courage to speak up in protest.

“Hang on, what about me? I have a couple questions of my own you know! Aren’t you supposed to be-” He raises a hand to cut you off.

“Ah ah ah! Just one more. Then I will give you all of the answers you want. I promise.” You grumble but settle down. He takes your silence as permission to continue. “What would you do if Diavolo was in danger?” Your heart skips. Danger? What does he mean by that? Is this a threat? Is that what this whole visit is about? The thought that Diavolo might be in danger sends a jolt of fear through you that sends you jumping out of your chair with enough force that it almost topples to the floor.

“What? What do you mean danger? Is something going on? Is Diavolo in trouble?” Your voice is high and frantic. The Demon King simply stares, his expression giving nothing away. Answer his question and he will answer yours. “Anything, If Diavolo was in trouble I would do anything to keep him safe. I know I’m not strong, not even by human standards, much less compared to demons. But I know some magic! I’m not entirely useless in a fight.” Your whole body shakes a little as you speak. With every word you see the smile on the Demon King's face widen.

“Excellent. In that case I would like to ask for your help saving my son's life.”

[kaimaciel]

So, there was a mermaid AU discussion in my dash yesterday and someone suggested Port would be a... crab.

Because of that, I was stuck with this idea in my head all day and now I must write it to exorcise my underwater demons!

Look what you made me do?

It all started because of a battle.

Once upon a time, there was a young captain of the fleet. The captain loved the ocean, he loved sailing with his men and friends. He was returning home, his cargo filled with riches and presents for his little brother back home.

Suddenly, an enemy fleet appeared. The canons were brought and the battle started.

Under the fighting ships, there was a beautiful but secret underwater city, ruled by a powerful mermaid Queen. The Queen saw lights of the canons, the burning ships and, with horror, saw one of the ships sink and drop into her city, into her people, killing several of them with the debris.

The Queen was furious, grieving. She glared at the ships above her.

"Humans are evil! They're monsters and killers," she yelled. "I want them gone!"

With the power of the seas by her side, the Queen swept the oceans, capsizing the ships and crushing them away from her precious city.

When there was once the sound of explosions and screams of fear, there was suddenly silence. The ships were destroyed, the sailors dead. All except for the captain, who managed to hold on to a piece of wood and stared at the wreckage of his fleet and his dead friends in horror.

The Queen noticed the survivor. She grabbed him and brought him to her city using a magical spell so he could breathe, before tossing him in her dungeon. The captain yelled at the Queen, he called her a murderer, and she, in turn, called him evil and a killer, staining her lovely sea with his human presence.

As time went by, the captain made a plan. He seduced the Queen and she took him to her royal chambers. After she fell asleep, the captain took this chance to finally flee. But the Queen woke up, in fury for her foolishness and the captain's trickery, she used her magic to turn him into an ugly, little crab.

"You shall be a crab until the day your treacherous heart stops beating!" she said.

The captain, now a crab, fled the mermaid city, neither he nor the Queen aware that that night she had conceived their child.

The crab searched and searched for anyone to break his curse, he searched all the seven seas, all the beaches, caves, and grottos, he asked every sea creature, but no one knew how to help him regain his human form.

Months went by, then years. The crab began to forget things. He forgot his name, his face, where and what his home was, his friends' names, his little brother's name, and how he looked like...

Finally, he reached a place in the darkest place in the ocean, which was ruled by a creature made of water, storms, rocks, and seaweed. His name was Adamastor. Some people called him a monster, a Titan, a sea god, but not even he knew the answer. Adamastor only knew about rage, heartbreak, and loneliness, and he was as powerful as he was miserable.

The crab went the mighty Adamastor, he begged with his little voice.

"Please break my curse, mighty one. Please turn me back into a human so I can see my family again."

The Adamastor took pity on the little crab, he admired his boldness to have come to him when everyone else fled and ask for his help. Unfortunately, not even he was powerful enough to break the curse.

The little crab lost all hope and cried. He would never go home, he would never see his brother again.

The Adamastor looked after the crab, build him a nice cave where he could rest and eat. The monster never had company before and he enjoyed talking to the crab.

The crab knew he did not have much time left, his body ached and weakened. By then, 15 years had passed.

One day, a blond man washed up at the beach where the crab now resided. The crab pinched the man who woke up startled. He was called Arthur and he was a captain of a fleet and, to the crab's surprise, the man understood what he was saying.

The two talked for a long time and the crab told Arthur his story. Arthur didn't know how to break the curse, but he offered to take the crab with him on his ship, allowing him to sail once more. The crab said goodbye to Adamastor, thanking him for all his kindness, and the monster bade him farewell, wishing happiness in his final months.

The crab went with captain Arthur, they sailed the seas together, the crab telling the man the routes he had learned to be the safest. He stood by Arthur's side as he studied his maps, planned his voyage, repaired sails, and boards, talked until the late hours of the night as they gazed at the moon and the stars. For the first time in many years, the crab was happy. He glanced at Arthur's face and he wished he had human hands to touch him, feet to dance with him, lips to kiss him.

But his time was up. One day, the crab collapsed and he was never able to get up again. Arthur tried everything to help him, feed him the best foods, submerged him in the finest waters, but it was no use. The crab was dying, he had accepted it.

He just wished he could have seen his brother again. He wished he remembered his name and what he looked like.

"Arthur, can you take me to the beach, please? I want to see the sunset," the crab asked.

Stifling tears, Arthur complied. He held the frail crab in his hands, as they watched the red sun disappear into the ocean.

"Thank you, Arthur," the crab said feebly. "I'm... glad... I wasn't alone in the end."

By the time the sun vanished on the horizon, the little crab went still and his heart stopped beating.

Arthur held the body of his friend against his chest and wailed. He was crying so hard that he did not notice the monstrous form of Adamastor taking shape before him.

"Take him to the water," the Titan said, shocking Arthur.

Arthur obeyed, and lowered the crab's body into the ocean's cold waters. Suddenly, the water began to shine a bright blue and, in Arthur's arms, a young man appeared where the crab once stood. His hair white as snow, a long, blue fishtail shining with a silvery light.

"The Queen said he would remain a crab until his heart beat. The curse is no more, this man is now under the protection of my house."

And with a wave of his giant hand, the man in Arthur's arms changed once more, his shoulder-length hair became dark brown and his fishtail morphed into two legs. He opened his green eyes and stared at the blond captain, memories of his human life finally returning to him.

Afonso grabbed Arthur and kissed him. After a moment of shock and hesitation, Arthur smiled and kissed him too as they hugged in the sea.

From that day forward, Afonso became a captain once more. He went to see his little brother, who had grown into a man by the time they reunited. They now appeared around the same age as Afonso had not aged a day since his curse.

The Adamastor's blessing gave him the power to control the rise of waves, control the storms, the winds, and the water itself. Every time he entered the ocean, he changed into a white-haired, bright blue-eyed merman and he protected his ships and his beloved from all the adversities sailors faced in the high seas.

Afonso vowed he would protect his new fleet, his new friends, and his family. No one would perish under his watch.

He grabbed his spear as he sailed with his fleet, his glowing blue eyes a warning to every mermaid and merman who would dare to hurt them.

A day would come he met the Mermaid Queen again, but this time, he would not be running away.

[prettywordsyouleft]

To Be Continued - Part 6

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_> 

In this chapter, the jealousy flare up is strong lol. 

Word count: 2307

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The warning bells you had been hoping to ring sounded around your home a second time, and you stepped down from the tips of your toes that you hadn’t realised you were standing upon and ducked under Brian’s arm, escaping the almost kiss to see who was here.

You guessed it was your mother, knowing her impromptu visits often occurred at night. Or Lily was back from visiting her family and wanted to check in on you as she usually did. However, nothing prepared you for who was standing there.

“Su-Sungjin.”

“My other rival has arrived,” you heard Brian mumble under his breath as he stopped beside you.

The police officer looked at you and then Brian, suddenly growing reserved. He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, Y/N. I should have called ahead of visiting you. I just was worried about you and wanted to check if you were okay. It seems like you are.”

“She is,” Brian confirmed, and you glanced at him hopelessly before shunting him in the stomach and opening your door further.

“Please, come inside.”

“Oh, I don’t wish to intrude when you have a guest here already,” Sungjin mentioned, though he stepped over the threshold far too easily, eying Brian carefully before smiling down at you. “Did you find out about the stalker?”

“Stalker is a bit of a far-fetched term, don’t you think, Constable?” Brian answered before you could, and you noticed the hint of annoyance in his eyes.

You knew that Brian, when protective of someone, wasn’t afraid to use his hands if necessary. Jumping in front of him with a light laugh, you then smiled up at Sungjin to try and break their staring war.

Thankfully, it worked. “Have you had dinner at all, Sungjin? I was just about to order in something and can add on another serving for you?”

“I’m sure the busy police officer doesn’t have time to stay for dinner.”

“Interesting that we don’t even know each other and you’re answering for me,” Sungjin rebutted, glowering at the man behind you. “I’m guessing Y/N told you about me?”

“It’s a long story,” you mentioned, wondering just how many more times you’d have to use that line when it came to Brian’s existence. “Dinner?”

“Would love to,” Sungjin agreed.

It was awkward as you waited for the delivery to arrive, glancing between the two men glaring at one another and then at the door hoping for salvation. Whilst you were excited to see Sungjin again, you hadn’t really thought this through.

After all, before he turned up on your doorstep, you were fully committed to kissing the man who firmly placed himself at your side. Then again, you had already day-dreamed about kissing Sungjin multiple times before Brian had even stepped out of your computer.

Your heart and mind were a mess, as was this dinner suggestion. You were relieved when the pizza turned up, diving towards the front door with your purse in hand. Paying the driver a tip, you then returned with the meal, placing it down on the table and spreading it out. “Let’s eat!”

“So, let’s hear about this long story,” Sungjin asked midway through your second piece of pizza, in which you choked upon. Both men thrust their drink towards you, and you looked at their offerings before meekly reaching for your own.

“The story,” Brian repeated, and Sungjin glanced at him curiously. “I guess you want to know who I am.”

“He’s my cousin’s friend!” you blurted out, and Brian gaped at you instantly. “Brian is just staying here because his flat is infested with bugs. You don’t do bugs, right, Brian?”

“Cousin’s friend. Bugs. Uh-huh.” Looking over at Sungjin’s surprised expression, Brian sighed heavily. “That’s me. Brian, the cousin’s friend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that,” Sungjin mentioned, a small relieved smile crossing his lips. “Hopefully it gets fixed soon.”

“Actually, I think it’s going to take a really long time. I might just end up moving in here permanently,” Brian commented with a strained smile, and you clamped your eyes shut with frustration before trying to smile politely at Sungjin.

The police officer smiled warmly back at you and began to eat again.

Thankfully, he didn’t stay too long, happy enough to see you were okay and when you confirmed you hadn’t heard from your strange intruder since Brian had arrived, it placated him enough to head for your front door.

“Dinner was lovely,” he mentioned, and you laughed.

“It was an awkward disaster.”

Sungjin nodded, chuckling softly. “Next time, I’ll take you out somewhere, if you like.”

“Re-really?”

“Only if you’re free too.”

“She’s going to be reallyyyy busy writing the next story in her trilogy, right, Miss Writer?” Brian added into the conversation, and your mood dampened again with his arrival at your side. Slinging an arm over your shoulder for effect – which worked – Brian smiled all too happily. “So busy that I wonder if she’ll even have time to eat. You know, when she’s stuck up in her worlds, she often forgets to even feed herself. Lucky I’m here, right?”

“I’ll call you!” you managed to tell Sungjin with a wave, before shutting the front door and spinning around to face the remaining man. “Wow! I never expected you to be like this!”

“Surely, you did! I mean, you created me!” Brian exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “And now I’m your cousin’s friend too?! You’re so good with stories, Miss Writer. Do you know what is real life and what isn’t?”

“You’re impossible when you’re jealous.”

“And you invited your hero in here when you had no need to! What are you going to do? Have a moment with him in the kitchen too? Tell him how he’s the only cop for you?!”

“Your bitterness is unfair!” you warned, stalking over to the table to clean up the takeout containers. Brian joined you, stacking the plates and cups you had used and took them over to the sink. You worked in harmony in clearing up the mess before you realised what you had both done. Stopping to watch as Brian vigorously scrubbed at a cup, you reached over for his hand and ceased his actions altogether.

“I panicked.”

“About what exactly? That the man you’ve been pining over since you met him just recently was on your doorstep or the guy you created in your stories was about to kiss you for the first time?”

So it was about to happen. Gulping back your emotions from his admission of the fact, you nodded. “Of both.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Y/N? You can’t play us both.”

“I wasn’t playing-”

“I guess that hero of yours makes me the villain for turning up, huh?” he muttered before rinsing off the cup and placing it to the side of the sink, turning on his heel for your guest bedroom and shut the door with a bang.

The following morning, you were the first one up. Binks met you in the living room, winding himself around your legs and mewling for his breakfast. Smiling, you picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to the kitchen. Settling him down by his food mat, you then picked up his bowl and filled it with fresh food before placing it back in front of him. You watched as he ate happily, relaxing into the simple nature of your usual routine.

Without Sungjin or Brian, life sure had been just that – simple.

Yet, you knew you wanted to fill the loneliness in your heart also. It had taken you some time to fall asleep last night, staring at the screen of your laptop at the words To Be Continued over and over. Wondering why Brian kept changing it to that instead of The End had plagued your thoughts all night long.

You had been hoping to meet him in the kitchen for breakfast and discuss it with him but you had gotten up before him. Waiting for over twenty minutes, and making as much noise as you could without being too rude, you finally walked down to the room and rapped your knuckles over the door. “Brian, can I come in?”

No answer.

Knocking a little louder this time, you repeated your question to receive, once more, silence in return. Unlatching the door, you stepped inside to find it empty of his presence.

It all hit you then like a tonne of bricks, and you went through your house from room to room in a blind panic, wondering where he had gone. Finding yourself in your office, you opened the lid to your laptop and hurried to turn it on, waiting to sign in to your account before dashing into your files for your latest story. Opening it, you bounced on the spot as your fears got heightened.

What if Brian had gone back into his world without even saying goodbye?!

You had definitely turned off the device last night before bed, but could he have turned it on and headed back into Captivated? Would he even remember you if he had?

After all the thoughts of insanity you had endured with his sudden arrival in your life, you were now equally despairing his departure. You hadn’t even kissed him yet! Let alone shared a day with him doing all the things you wanted to do. How could he just leave you like this –

“Y/N?”

Spinning around to find Brian behind you in exercise clothes and sweating from a morning run, you let go of your laptop and lurched towards him, wrapping your arms firmly around his waist. Whilst he immediately held your distraught body, he chuckled a little also. “I just went for a run. I don’t care what you say about me, even guys like me stink when we sweat.”

“You’re still here!”

“Of course, I am. Where did you think I was?” Brian asked, and when your sniffling turned to sobs, Brian attempted to pull you away from his body but you gripped on tighter. “You thought I had gone back into the story?”

“What else was I meant to think when you weren’t here, and there was no note?! Especially after last night-”

“That’s why I went for a run, to clear my head,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave you a note. I thought you would sleep in like usual.”

“I’m sorry too,” you replied, shaking your head, your tears spreading around the room and landing upon him in the process. “I shouldn’t be like this over you. I mean, I feel like I’ve known you forever yet you’ve only been here a couple of days and you’re right, I should be more clear with Sungjin, but I didn’t know what to do and-”

Your sentence was caught against his mouth, swift as it pressed upon yours, did it leave. Brian, evidently surprised at his attempt to stop your fevered rambling, cleared his throat before staring down at you for your reaction.

It only took you a second to think about it before you stretched up and coveted his mouth with yours. Unlike his quick peck, you moved in with the intention of savouring this one. Slowly, your mouths pressed together, tasting one another. He was slightly salty, due to the way his skin has perspired from his run and yet you didn’t care, pressing into his body further the longer your lips were attached to his. Your mind swirled with desire, and your heart thumped erratically as a result.

You were kissing Brian Kang.

When writing kissing scenes with him and Charli, albeit there had only been three so far, you had struggled. Just how would Brian Kang be as a kisser? No matter how much you had imagined his style or the way he would caress Charli, this moment in time was unlike anything you had penned. This was an entirely new feeling.

There was a hunger driving his lips now, his hands firmly taking purchase of your hips, drawing you in closer, making you his as much as you had made him yours. The taste to him changed, heating up with how his tongue dipped behind your teeth to greet yours, as if this exchange was something you two had done before. Kissing Brian was new, and yet it felt as if you had been doing it all your life. You were certain you could continue to keep kissing him as well, had you no need for air. However, you pulled away then, gasping in deep breaths, your mind and eyes blown from the experience.

Brian appeared just as dishevelled.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t apologise for kissing me,” Brian murmured, running his thumb over your now swollen lips. He smiled giddily before looking back at you with bright eyes. “Don’t ever apologise for it.”

“You’re sure?”

“That was some kiss,” he told you, cupping your cheek within his hand. Leaning in closer again, you felt your breath heighten, moistening your lips for him to take them hostage again. However, he merely kissed your cheek before letting you go entirely. “I’m going to have to watch myself around you, Miss Writer. Our story’s only just begun, and we’re already kissing one another. You’re more dangerous than I thought you’d be for my heart.”

“Why did I create you to say lines like that?!” you groaned as Brian slipped away from you and headed down the hallway towards your bathroom. Sticking your head around the corner to watch his departure, Brian stopped outside the door and glanced back at you, biting his lip before shaking his head and stepped into the bathroom to shower from his run.

Leaning against the threshold for support, you held your heart again.

It was beating in tune for him now.

_________________

Part 7

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[jessiewritesthings]

Saudade - Epilogue

Prince Zuko x Reader

Here she is!! Saudade is my baby and i’m so happy and so grateful for everyone that has taken the time to read this, i love you all! thank you thank you thank you x

Part I - Part II - Part III

168 AG

Izumi smiled softly, flipping through the pages of the family album. Black and white photos dotted the pages, documenting the life you had shared with Zuko for more than seventy years. Images of you and Zuko at the helm of numerous Fire Lily Festivals, visiting Fire Nation Citizens, meeting with delegates from all over the Four Nations. The images Izumi liked the most were the ones with all your friends in them – as a child she had thought it was just the coolest thing that her parents were best friends with the Avatar.

She also particularly loved the photos you would take on your vacations to Ember Island – loved how proudly you held yourself, scar and all. Most people would take to hiding away, a scar so bad as yours was enough reason to, Izumi had figured. She knew her father struggled with it every day – no matter how many times you tried to comfort him, he always saw it as a sign of his weakness, a reminder of the cruelty that Azula and Ozai, and the rest of his predecessors had put the world through.

Your life with Zuko hadn’t always been easy, though it had definitely been worth it. Numerous assassination attempts on the both of you had plagued your first few years together, and the backlash from Zuko’s advisors as he proposed and promptly married you, crowning you his Fire Lady, hadn’t gone down particularly easy. Nonetheless, you were stronger together, and in time the Fire Nation grew to love you, just as they did Zuko.

Izumi sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek as she closed the album, placing it on the corner table before joining her father on the balcony.

“Izumi, my dear,” Zuko murmured, reaching for her hand as she placed it on his shoulder.

Izumi stood silently with her father, watching as their guest’s ships began to depart. If she squinted, she could see Katara with Tenzin and Pema, waving as Pema wrangled with Jinora and Ikki, young Meelo clinging to his father. Raising his hand to wave in return, Zuko thought about how desperately he wanted Aang, or his Uncle Iroh around – someone that could help him come to terms with the most devastating blow he’d been dealt yet.

It had been two weeks now, since Zuko had woken to find you cold, yet soft and peaceful in his arms. Your arms had still been pressed across his chest, the same groove you always found yourselves sleeping in, legs pushed together like you were two halves of a whole – which, in a way, you were. Zuko had swallowed down his fear, and his cry for help, as he looked at you, softly brushing your white hair from your face, his fingers delicately running the beads along the strands.

“Oh, my sweet y/n,” he had whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his tears starting to fall over your face. He stayed there with you, unable and unwilling to move, as if he stayed still forever you might open your eyes and greet him. His eyes didn’t move from your form when his attendant, Mira, entered the room, a tray of hot breakfast and steaming tea in her arms.

The tray was quickly placed on the side table as Mira rushed to the bedside, gasping in shock.

“Lord Zuko,” she started, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Mira, please.” He let go of you now, gently removing himself from your bed, as if trying not to rouse you.

Mira came to his side, placing an arm on Lord Zuko’s shoulder before he smiled softly at her and pulled her into a hug. Zuko continued to cry, comforted by Mira. You had been loved and admired by all of the palace staff, and many of them had requested to follow you and Zuko when you had moved to Ember Island following Zuko’s abdication as Fire Lord.

“The Lady y/n will be remembered fiercely, Lord Zuko. The Fire Nation’s most delicate flower.”

Zuko smiled, fondly remembering the first time he had introduced you to his dragon, Druk. Zuko had the utmost confidence in the dragon, and you had been positively terrified – not because he was a giant fire-breathing dragon – you’d proven yourself more than capable of handling fire by now – but he was just so big. Nonetheless, you had mounted Druk, and shrieked in surprise as Zuko leapt off the dragon, watching as you soared into the sky, your wild hair flowing as you clutched onto Druk’s scales. Zuko was positively enamoured – he’d already spent a lifetime loving you, but seeing you ride Druk with such tenacity and grit had sent him straight into the past, flying through all your history until you were both back in the Crystal Catacombs in Ba Sing Se. Zuko was enchanted by you, and he knew he would be until his heart stopped beating.

You were beaming as Druk had landed, your hair windswept and your blue robes loose, exhilarated. Leaping off the dragon, you ran to Zuko’s arms, flinging yourself to him as your arms found their natural home, your lips pressing to his scar.

“Zuko, that was incredible,” you’d exclaimed, astounded.

“Mmm, it certainly was.” Zuko smiled – watching you ride Druk was better than being in the reigns himself.

“My Dragon Queen,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses against your neck, the spot he knew you loved the most.

_____

Zuko sat with his daughter until the sun had entirely disappeared, and then they sat together for longer, watching the night as the stars began to dapple across the sky, the moon incandescent in its beauty as it graced the sky. They sat silently, hands clasped together, tucked into a patchwork quilt you had made for Izumi’s birth – a delicate, stunning piece of work that seamlessly incorporated both sides of you and Zuko, magical swirls of red and blue speckled with gems and beads.

Izumi twirled the blue beads adorning the quilt through her fingers, recalling the countless nights that she would rouse you both from sleep, claiming to be plagued by nightmares. You never complained, always opening your arms to pull her in, letting her nestle in-between you and Zuko where she would sleep freely. Sometimes, before sleep took her, Izumi would feel your fingers drifting through her hair, and she would fall asleep in such a tranquil, safe space.

Eventually Izumi heard stories about her grandfather Ozai – horrifying stories of what he’d done to the world, his nation, his family. She’d never asked her father about his scar – in-fact it never occurred to her as a child that it deviated from malicious intent, because her mother had one too. In Izumi’s young mind, she used to imagine that the two of you being scarred was just the spirits way of making sure you found each other, as if your scars acted as magnets that would bring you together wherever you were.

“I was so lucky to have her love me, Izumi,” Zuko hummed, voice raspy. “I always knew I would love her, after we first met. Your mother, she was magic. Ethereal. It has been the greatest honour of my life to love her, and that love brought me the greatest gift: you.”

Izumi smiled fondly at her father, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

“She was lucky to have your love, too.”

Lord Zuko turned to his daughter, a soft smile gracing his face. She was an excellent Fire Lord, and he recalled the time Ursa had told him that a Fire Lord producing a nonbending child was a disgrace in Ozai’s eyes. Of course, Ozai was wrong. Izumi was not a bender, but Zuko constantly found himself in awe of his daughter’s calm demeanour, and when he abdicated his throne, he had never been prouder of Izumi as she was crowned Fire Lord.

Izumi’s birth had not been easy for you – she was a stubborn babe, and you’d been in labour for hours – days actually, as you later found out. Katara was assisting you, and Aang had taken Zuko away to keep him distracted – it was awfully improper for a husband to be present at a birth of course. Naturally, that didn’t deter you, and you constantly pleaded with Katara and your handmaiden to please, please, please get Zuko. As Zuko and Aang returned to the palace, Fire Lord Zuko was informed that your child still had not been delivered. Anxiety consumed him, and to the horror of his advisors he’d dashed to your chambers, grasping your hand and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you finally delivered a healthy, beautiful, precious baby girl.

Zuko was enamoured with Izumi immediately, and would often be found after a particularly highly-strung meeting with his advisors sitting on the balcony in Izumi’s nursery, holding his soft, sweet girl in his arms. Before Izumi was born, Zuko had confided in you that he wasn’t sure about his ability to be a father – he wanted to be a good father so much that it overwhelmed him, and he wasn’t able to comprehend it. He’d blurted it out in the middle of a game of Pai Sho, neither of you knowing that you were in-fact already carrying the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation. You’d reached your arm across the board, hand gently caressing Zuko as you gave him a reassuring smile.

“You will be magnificent, my love. Any children we have will grow to see their father the same way I do – brave, intelligent, loving and kind.”

Zuko took your hands, pressing them to his lips as he watched you, shadows from the flames flickering across your face.

“Have I told you that I’m madly in love with you?” he replied, a cheeky grin forming. Forgetting the game of Pai Sho, you crept over to his side, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Not nearly enough,” you answered, your lips pressing together as Zuko put his hands in your hair, pulling his fingers through.

“I’m madly in love with you, y/n. Every minute of every day.”

175 AG

Lord Zuko stirred softly in his sleep, out on the balcony as usual – you had spent most of your time here curled up together, after all. He was smiling softly, thinking of you as he always did. It had been an interesting few years without you, but nothing could fill the void that was left inside Zuko after you left. He would often wake from a restless sleep, desperately clutching the sheets as if you were there, only to be disappointed every time. He played many games of Pai Sho with Mira, and she would sit with him each evening, enjoying a cup of tea on the balcony as they kept each other company. Most often, Zuko would sit on the loveseat in the balcony, your favourite blanket draped across him for comfort instead of warmth. He’d sit there with his tea, usually forgetting it as he would drift into a deep sleep, visited by you and your memories together.

“Come, Zuko. Let’s go down to the beach,” you urged.

The sun was setting on Ember Island, and you were due to return to the palace tomorrow, Fire Lord duties to be resumed. Iroh had graciously stepped in in place of Zuko to allow the pair of you to have on ‘official’ honeymoon, something you were both incredibly grateful for.

Slipping your hand into his, you’d made your way down to the beach, both barefoot and revelling in the soothing nature of the sand. You’d let go of him now, running through the waves as they crashed on the shore. Zuko couldn’t do much more than stare at you – your hair shined in the fading sun, the red hues making you look delicious and warm. Your gown wrapped around your waist, unravelled slowly, revealing your scar. Zuko grimaced, a flash of pain echoing on his face. Seeing this, you ran to his side, placing your hands in his.

“I just…,” he started, swallowing. “I just wish I could take it away, for you.”

“Don’t, my love. It is as much a part of me as yours is you. I am proud to have this scar. Proud of what it represents for us, for all that we’ve been through. I don’t want you to feel this way every time you look at me.”  

Zuko smiled softly, pressing his lips to your forehead.  

“I look at you, and I am alive.”

Zuko placed his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck.

“Dance with me,” you whispered. Zuko blushed – forever the one with two left feet – and the two of you danced, softly, delicately, holding each other as if all the love in the world had been given to only you both in that moment. Water rushed over your feet as you moved across the sand. A laugh escaped you as Zuko caught his foot on yours, accidentally tripping you up as you both fell into the sand, water lapping at your feet. Sighing, you ran your fingers through his hair as you rested on top of him.

“I think I loved you the moment I saw you. Even if I didn’t know it then,” you’d whispered, gazing into his eyes. Zuko had raised his head slightly, watching you carefully, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “We will be remembered, Zuko. For the right reasons.”

Pulling himself off the sand, Zuko lent back, allowing you to shuffle into his arms. You sat silently together, watching as the stars began to dot across the night sky, peaceful and content like neither of you had ever felt before.

Zuko woke slowly, the first rays of the new day dawning. You stood before him, hazy and radiant and celestial in your beauty, before reaching one hand out to him.

“Come, Zuko. There’s still so much more to see.”

Zuko’s eyes closed, a long, deep breath escaping for one final time. He was in his dreams now – dreaming his dreams with you.

_____

“Lord Zuko,” Mira called, unsurprised to find the elderly Lord had once again slept on his balcony.

Mira approached him, a gasp of shock leaving her as she realised just how peaceful he looked. In his hands he held a small, silver hair clip, adorned with white and blue gems and beads.

Ah. Together again.

_____

oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak

eridanuswave

coldlilheart

thirstyforsometea

lammello

whalerus

astroninaaa

lil-lex1

zukosvice

darkskin-buttercup

yiyibetch

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XIII

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), Steve being a dink, attempted sexual assault, emotions.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself caught between the machinations of men.

Note: Updates might not stay consistent but doing my best. If I can finish this series, I want to focus after on continuing the original stuff I have going.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

The day wore on, Barnes taking the brunt of it as his temper was poked and prodded by his fellow lords. You could see his impatience bulging in his forehead as he approached and his lips drew into a tight line. The winner was declared and the audience streamed down the stands to ready for another night of feasting. The duke did not seem as eager.

“I would away for a short time,” he said stiffly as you stood, “they require final fittings for my saddle and as much as I’d rather stay at your side, they mean well. I cannot slip from my steed during competition or anything worse.”

“You will be long, my lord?” you asked out of courtesy more than concern. You found if you said what he expected, it pleased him enough to deter his displeasure.

“Not very, Lord Rogers will see you to the feast and I will meet you there,” he explained, “be wary in my absence.”

“I will,” you promised as he took your hand.

“Sweeting,” he doted and let go of you reluctantly, “take care.” He looked over your head and his face hardened again, “Stark, let’s be quick.”

You turned as he went and found yourself faced with Lord Rogers. His delight at the unusual pairing troubled you. He offered his arm as the other women trailed out with their escorts and you reticently slipped your hand into the crook of his elbow. He walked slowly, deliberately back from the rest.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?” he asked.

“The games were very entertaining,” you said brusquely, “and you, my lord?”

“Oh, I enjoyed the sights,” he hummed and you felt him looking at you. You swallowed as he led you across the castle grounds, the distance between you and the rest of the party growing, “that colour is complementary on you… and the cut.”

"Thank you, my lord," you responded as you approached the steps of the castle.

He was quiet as you ascended and as you entered, the rest of the nobles had dispersed. He waited until you were at the winding stair well before he spoke again. "Do you not think I look dashing?"

You peered over at him, unsure of how to answer in a way that would neither encourage or offend him. "That coat is finely made," you said.

He chuckled to himself as he kept on but as you followed the curl of the steps, he spun you so that your feet slid down several stairs and you slammed against the wall. He was quick to keep you from falling entirely as his hands went to your waist. He was close as he leered at you and his mouth slanted.

"You are careless, girl, and you would fall and hurt yourself were I not here," he taunted, "you might break something…" he ran his knuckles along your cheek softly, "like your pretty little face."

"My lord," you pushed against his chest, "we will be late for the feast--"

"I did keep you from a terrible accident and you wouldn't even offer me your gratitude for such a deed," his expression darkened. He pressed closer and lowered his voice, "I recall how your mouth made me quake and yet I do wonder if your cunt should feel the same or perhaps it would be even better."

"Get off," you beat on his overcoat, "I would report your intimidations to Lord Barnes and he would be most unhappy."

"And what shall he do? If it was he believed a whore like you?" Rogers snickered, "I can be quick."

He pulled at your skirts as you squirmed, your tenuous stance on the stairs only made him seem even stronger than he was. His hand snaked along the top of your stockings and you yelped as you grabbed his wrist in shock.

"Stop! Please--"

"Lord Rogers," the lilted voice frightened you and shame heated your cheeks as Rogers retracted his hand. He grasped your arm and cleared his throat, "lady, you should be more careful on these stairs."

"Perilous, are they not?" Baron Zemo's brows rose coyly.

"Very," Rogers answered curtly, "we were only progressing on to the feast."

"Ah yes, the games did awaken my appetite," Zemo remarked, "you do seem ravenous, my lord."

Rogers sneered and his throat bobbed, "Baron, you should be mindful not to overstay your welcome here, the kingdom does not forget the war so swiftly."

"Oh, let us not play at machismo, you have shown no courtesy to this gentlewoman," he bowed to you and smirked, "my lady, my name is Helmut Zemo and I hope you forgive me my oversight. A pity I hadn't the chance to introduce myself at our first encounter."

You returned your name but said nothing else as Rogers presence and avid attention worried you. You had no concern that Barnes would be suspicious of you and his lascivious friend but Zemo was a sore spot you dared not touch.

"And since we all seem to be headed to the same end, it would not be unexpected for us to continue on as one," he said, "my lady," he offered his hand, "as your companion did warn, you would not want to fall."

You glanced at Rogers who wore a scowl. He stepped aside and you nervously accepted Zemo's hand. You did not expect it and it was just as surprising to realise it but he was your saviour. You turned as he drew you along as Rogers led the way, his shoulders straight and squared. The frustration of being caught roiled around him and thickened the air as he said nothing.

"I understand you are closely acquainted with Duke Barnes. You likely know of our… past but I assure you what I did was only in the heat of battle. I am a man of fine discipline and not the same brute I am with blade in hand," he said.

"You would be best to be brief and be away shortly," Rogers warned, "Barnes does not bide you nor will he bide you close to her."

You reached the corridor and Zemo released you kindly. "Forgive me, I am ignorant of many of your people's practices but does Lord Barnes thus tolerate your intimate proximity to this lady? I did understand her to be his."

"He would tolerate me better than you," Rogers growled as he turned to bear down on the foreign noble, "and if he should hear any word from you he would be a fool to believe it."

"Perhaps," Zemo grinned and shrugged, "you think I fear this man but let me remind you I am the one who did take his arm. If anything, I believe it is I in his nightmares and not the reverse," he taunted, "my lady, I hope you do enjoy the feast and find yourself well at the end of the night."

"Thank you, my lord," you said, "you as well."

He left you and shot a final glance at Rogers who huffed in turn. When the Baron was gone, Rogers shook his head and gripped his hips. He bit his lower lip and sighed. "Come on then, the feast awaits."

🏰

You sat next to Barnes but he felt miles away. Even when his hand found yours or lingered on your skirts. You couldn't be disturbed by his antics as you stared across the hall at nothing in particular. You were tired. So tired. Around every corner was another villain ready to pounce.

You ate and drank but said little more than you needed to. You still felt Steve's hand tugging at your gown, his body against yours, the suffocating entrapment. And you heard Zemo's voice and saw the twinkle in his eyes, the curve of his thin lips. Then there was Barnes, incessant and insistent, who could be provoked in just a breath.

"What is the matter?" He asked, again. He'd asked several times.

"Nothing, it has only been a tiring day," you recited the lie.

"No, it is not that," he prodded as he clung to your hand, "you… seem grey."

"Nothing, I am very well. The food is plenty and I am privileged to have all that I do. By your hand, my lord."

"You lie to me but I cannot be angry for I worry more," he fidgeted with your hand, "please, tell so that I might be at peace."

"As I have said, I am exhausted," you uttered and pushed your fingers between his, "I promise, my lord."

"Shall we depart for the evening? I am due early for the joust," he kept his voice low, "and truly there is none but you who keep me here."

You looked at him. You were worn by him and the sight of him made your insides curdle. You felt this way because of him, all had transpired because of him… or because of you. Because you dared deny him. Because you could not give a noble what they demanded. Was that not your duty? Perhaps, you were wrong. Or you were going mad.

"I wouldn't not refuse," you said.

He nodded and looked around. He stood subtly, much of the hall engaged on the boards before the band. He drew you along the dais and down the steps to the floor. As he made along the east wall, he stopped suddenly at the impact of another body. You winced as Peter righted himself after his clumsy collision.

"Pardon me, Lord Barnes, I did not mean to… Ned! Get back here with--" he was caught by the older lord before he could dash away.

"What are you? A viscount's son, I hear," Barnes snarled, "hardly a title at all."

"I am the viscount," Peter wiggled free of his grasp, "my father's title is my own since his death. I manage my lands and see to my taxes. As much a lord as you, sir."

"You are brazen for your bearing," Barnes spat, "and childish for your age."

"Sir, I did apologize for my indiscretion but I will not be abused by you," he glanced at you and swallowed, "I am not one of your puppets." You flinched and saw the remorse in his eyes. He shook his head, "what I mean is… my lord, I do not know why you hold me in such disregard. We met as competitors and you took it as more. I was kind to this woman and again you took it as a slight. I have given you no reason to be spiteful and if I am just a viscount you needn't be so offended by my being."

Barnes lifted his chin and let out a long breath. He gritted his teeth and pushed back a strand of hair as he stepped closer to Peter and glared down at him, "you sound a sorer loser than I. I told you what this woman is but you persist--"

"I have not pursued her nor have I seen her since last I did you," Peter argued as he held his posture, "I suspect however this is less about my want and more of hers. Whether we get along or not it hardly affects her feelings for you and I have seen little reason why she should hold any warmth for someone as cold as you."

Barnes' nose flared and his hand balled to a fist. He was trembling like a kettle ready to boil over.

"You best watch your tongue and your gull, viscount," Barnes growled, "if you cherish those who remain to you." Lord Barnes turned and searched the crowd and smirked as his eyes followed the elder couple amid the sea, "your aunt and uncle? They seem happy…"

"My lord, you do incite me," Peter snipped.

"As you do incite me," Barnes barked, "so you keep away from what is mine and I will keep away from that which is yours."

"I always thought a duke would have better manners but I suppose that you make yourself plain and your meaning is noted, my lord," Peter spoke evenly, "be away with her then. She is of no concern of mine. She never was."

Barnes shouldered past the younger noble and pulled you along with him. As you passed Peter, you looked at him grimly, cut to the bone by his dismissal. He kept his eyes averted and stony. You turned to follow the duke and caught stride with him as you forced down your dismay.

You were stupid, so stupid. What did you think? You hardly knew Peter. He had only humoured you, out of propriety, out of decency. But now he knew you were nothing and were owed neither. 

How could you mean anything to anyone? Even this man who dragged you away saw you as nothing more than another of his possessions.

[hailbop1701]

Welcome back to Prompt Wednesday everyone! We have prompt #42 chosen by @fandoms-and-sunshine!

Fandom: Almost Human

Type: John Kennex X Reader

Whiskey Business

Word Count: 2,424

Okay so this was supposed to be crack-ish but it ended being pure angst. 👀😅 I hope ya'll like it and please don't mind the typos I have no beta for these! Please note the reader is a paramedic in this and I don't know what they do day in and out. So if I got things wrong or it sounds a little off I'm sorry! I also wanted to say thank you to those who are Paramedics/EMS and firefighters. You guys do so much and I feel you should be recognized more often!

-H❤🖖

The day had been long and exhausting both emotionally and physically. Huffing out a frustrated breath still pent up on adrenaline and anger you took another big swig of whiskey. The bottle was half gone and you gave up on using a glass a while ago. Lifting the bottle you took another swig hoping to wash out the nasty taste that day’s events left you with. 

Your day started out like any other. It was rather dull until a call came in for a bad car accident downtown. You and your partner took the call and made it record time, 

“Traffic laws don’t apply to us,” your partner Jinnie tried to convince you as she hopped over the median strip. The rig jangled and bucked but was otherwise unharmed, you couldn’t help but laugh at her insanity and roll your eyes. 

“Marcus is going to kill you one of these days!” you chuckled thinking about your boss who wore a permanent scowl. Jinnie smirked and winked like she knew a funny joke and couldn’t wait to tell you the punch line, “Marcus and I have an understanding!” she giggled. You wrinkled your nose and shook your head, “Nasty Jin, just no,” 

She cackled as she made a sharp left turn; outside the rig, horns blared and honked, curses were thrown at you from afternoon commuters out hunting for a quick lunch. “Hey don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Jinnie said wickedly. You let out a pained groan and made a dramatic gagging sound, 

“Never gonna go there Jin, Marcus reminds me of my uncle Artie, who by the way is one pill away from the nuthouse, “ you said bracing your hands against the dash as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the call. The intersection held four smoking damaged beyond repair cars. One of which was overturned with blood coloring the windshield. Jinnie threw open her door tossing a “Call for backup” over her shoulder. 

Picking up the radio you made the call ordering more ambulancs and for police to hurry their collective asses up. Looking up you saw Jinnie climbing into the overturned car with her kit. Cursing you saw the crowd getting bigger and pushing their way closer to the scene. Tossing your radio to the side you kicked open your door the rest of the way-

The doorbell rang bringing you back to your dingy apartment. Safe, alive, and curled up on the couch clutching onto a now almost empty bottle like it was a lifeline. The doorbell rang again repeatedly like the person in the hall was trying to play chopsticks with the ringer; hissing in annoyance you set the whiskey bottle down noisily on the glass coffee table and stumbled toward the door. Blinking away the cotton and shaking the blurriness away you reached your front door without too much incident. Staring at the doorknob intently for a few seconds you waited until there were at least three of them, only then you decided to guess which one was the real one. 

Swinging the door open you blinked and glared at the moronic soul who dared disturb your grief-induced drinking binge. There stood John Kennex holding two large bags in his hands; you knew John easily enough. The two of you would run across each other often at scenes, whether they were accidents or not so much. You were actually one of the ones who kept John alive on the way to the hospital after the raid. That had been a bad day, just as bad as this one was. He contacted you again sometime after he woke up from his coma, the two of you have been hanging out and getting closer ever since. 

John pressed his lips into a thin line the both of you silent and appraising each other, 

“Are you sober?” 

you scoffed at the dumbass question, with a roll of your eyes you responded like any other time he’s asked you something dumb. You gave him the most smart-ass reply your whiskey drenched brain could come up with at that moment.

“I’m moderately functional,” 

John breathed out a heavy sigh catching the strong whiff of alcohol and depression coming from you. “I’ll take that as a no,” he muttered pushing his way into your apartment, you scowled at his back as he disappeared into your kitchen. 

“Please come right in,” you slurred dramatically bowing, gesturing for your imaginary friends in the hallway to join you. Slamming the door shut you carefully work your way to where John was rummaging around in your cupboards, you mumbled obscenities under your breath and made your way back to the living room where your bottle sat waiting for you. 

It was gone, “John what the actual fuck!” you whined stomping your taco slipper-clad foot down angrily. John shot you a grimace from the kitchen as he pulled down plates and grabbed forks, “You don’t need anymore, besides there was like a sip left so I drank it,” 

“Dick move Kennex,” you growled flopping down on the couch. The offending man gave you a sad smile, he walked in holding two plates piled high with Chinese food and balanced two bottles of soda under his arms. Pitying the poor struggling man you took the sodas from him so he could set down the plates. Sighing John flopped into the couch next to giving you a cheeky smile, 

“You brought me food,” you mumbled looking at the takeout confused. John hummed cracking open your soda and forcing it into your hands so you get something else in you other than cheap whiskey. Taking an automatic swig of the sugary beverage you winced at the change of pace. 

“Why?” 

Your question threw him off guard a little; fork half-way to his mouth with noodles hanging off of it he looked at you like he was choosing his words carefully. John set his plate down and turned to face you, “Because you’re my friend (Y/N) and you’ve lost somebody. You shouldn’t have to be alone and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be drinking with a concussion,” he said adding the last part offhandedly.  

Your ears still rang and the pounding in your head -now that he’s reminded you- hurt like hell. But that’s not what made you flinch; what you’ve spent hours working to forget was flooding all back. 

The smell of gas unmistakable, your eyes searched the ground and around the other cars as you worked to stabilize a teen girl in an old Prius at the front of the pack. “Is everything okay?” the girl moaned out watching your darkening face, her own expression melting into one of panic. Turning back to her you give her a shaky reassuring smile, 

“Yeah, I just need you to hold still for me, okay?” The girl returned the shaky smile, her lips trembling, tears streamed down her face. You shushed her gently as you put a neck brace on her, “What’s your name sweetheart?” 

“Gwen, my-my name is Gwen,” she croaked, sniffing trying to put on a brave face. You gave her another smile trying to keep the apprehension from your voice. The smell of gas was getting stronger by the second. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Gwen, my name is (Y/N),” 

“I can’t move my legs,” Gwen whimpered struggling, you immediately stopped her. 

“Gwen I’m gonna need you to hold still for me hun,” 

The girl whimpered again in both fear and pain, “I just want to go home,” she cried tears flowing again. You nodded, “I know sweetheart, I know. We’ll get you out soon,” you promised and internally winced. Never make promises. 

Looking over your shoulder you saw Jinnie loading up your rig’s gurney. She looked at you and gestured to your surroundings in question. The lack of other ambulances and police were getting tiresome. You shook your head and gave a shrug; Jinnie huffed and talked into the comm that was on her vest. 

“(Y/N) I can smell gas, is that bad? That’s bad, right?” Gwen sobbed struggling against the steering wheel again. Her legs were pinned and you were going to need the fire department to get her out. Feeling helpless you tapped your comm. 

“Jin, where’s the FD? We’re going to need sand ASAP,” you kept your voice even and without the panic you were feeling. Gwen started breathing hard; the beginnings of an anxiety attack. 

“Gwen I need you to breathe, I can’t have you passing out on me now,” your voice seemed to soothe the girl so you kept going. Taking her hand you talked about anything and everything until her breathing was under control again. The sound of screeching tires and sirens pulled you from a story about your older brother, some firecrackers, and a little too much hooch. You heard Jinnie in the background berating anyone who would stop and listen to her, 

“Where in hell have you been?” her voice carried over the chaos. Looking in the side mirror you saw your best friend and partner shouting at another paramedic, who was shrinking back from the small woman. A firefighter was jogging up to you holding his helmet in place, 

“What do you need?” he asked breathlessly, giving you a flirty smile. Any other time you would have been flattered but right now you were just pissed off. “Sand and her legs are pinned,” 

At your tone of voice, the firefighter shrunk back a little and cleared his throat nervously. Hastily he spoke a few orders into his comm. Peering into the car the man muttered to Gwen that he was going to get her out of there by supper time. ‘Should have been earlier than that,’ you thought sourly. 

“(Y/N) I need your help over here!” Jinnie called waving a hand wildly. Biting your lip you tuned back to Gwen, “I’ll be right back okay Gwen? I’m going to be right over there,” you pointed in the direction of a group of ambulances. Gwen sniffed and nodded watching the firefighter work on pulling the driver’s side door open. 

You were a good twenty feet away when you heard a startled scream. Whipping around you saw Gwen’s car on fire; the firefighter struggled and fought with the car door trying to desperately get it open. 

“(Y/N)!” the girl screamed and before you knew it the fire spread to the cab. Gwen screamed in terror and pain as the fire engulfed the vehicle. You surged forward without thinking to try and help but a pair of arms stopped you from doing any further. Screaming out the girl’s name you elbowed the person who had a hold of you. Before you could run forward you were pushed back by an explosion. 

Landing on your back you looked up at the cloudless blue sky in a daze, someone was calling your name repeatedly but they seemed too far away to understand. 

“-(Y/N), I need you to calm down for me, okay?” 

The touch and sound of John pulled you back gasping. His hand held yours to his chest over his heart, it fluttered but beat steadily under your touch, his breathing even. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged softly as your own breathing slowed to match his. He rattled on about this, that, and the other thing. Your mind started to function almost normally again as he talked about how Dorian kept tuning into Korean radio. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks making him stop mid-sentence, scooting closer to you he slowly wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened in his for the briefest moment before breaking down. 

It was quite sometime later when you finally sat up and rubbed away any traces of tears and snot. “I’m sorry,” you whispered embarrassedly, eyeing the wet patch on his shirt. John waved it away his eyes searching your for any sign of panic or distress, 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured gruffly, grabbing your discarded soda from the coffee table. You frowned at the offering, ‘When did I put that down?’ you questioned taking the beverage. Uncapping the soda you took a decent swig, the bubbles cleared your head a bit more. John stood and grabbed both of your still full plates and headed to the kitchen. You watched as he put them in the microwave one at a time. His gaze would flit to you every few seconds or so just to make sure you were still okay. 

Getting up you wandered over to him, pulling your sweatshirt tighter around yourself you give him a sad grateful smile. “Thank you,” you had said it so softly that he almost didn’t catch it. 

John pushed off the counter wrapping you into another hug, this one you fully returned. You both swayed to the hum of the microwave the smell of Chinese drifting through the air. John rested his chin on the crown of your head humming softly. “Tiny Dancer,” by Elton John you guessed by the tune. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how out of tune he was. “Don’t ruin the song, John,”  you murmured into his neck. His chest vibrated as he laughed, his fingers gently carding through your hair. “I’m not that bad,” he defends half-heartedly. You shook your head and pulled back just a little to raise an eyebrow. Upon seeing your expression John huffed and nodded, 

“I’m that bad,” he agreed. 

The microwave beeped signaling that the food was finally heated up and ready to eat. But neither of you wanted to pull away. Grumbling you glared at the offending machine mentally willing your food to float across the kitchen to where you were standing. When nothing happened you cursed at it instead, 

“Damn, the struggle is fucking real,” you sighed stepping away from John to retrieve your food. Picking up his plate John followed you back into the living room, he grabbed the remote for your TV and flicked it on to an old classic movie. The Jurassic Park theme echoing throughout the room made you smile in nostalgia. 

Sitting down you easily molded yourself into John’s side and for the rest of the night that’s where you stayed. You knew everything was going to be alright, even if your heart still ached for Gwen and the firefighter who you never knew. You accepted that you were going to be upset for a long time because of what happened but you were at least not going to be alone. 

   

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[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 38 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 37 here. Part 39 here.

Summary: Dangerops! Will it hurt baby top of his head???

Words: 5300

Warnings:  I googled it and it's possible leave me alone

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Watch me as I slowly descend into madnesssss come with me to helllll!

Hi, thanks everyone for your kind words last week, it means a lot. I feel very lucky and grateful to have support and love. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you are still enjoying the story. We only have a few left to go! I'm very excited to pull everything together, I hope I do it in a satisfying way.

I love y'all very much. There will likely be no chapter for the next week or two. Please forgive me, but I promise I won't be gone long. Stay safe. <3

Seconds ticked by. Despite the rapid beat of your pulse, you didn’t move.

You were petrified, stone in your bed, as your brain attempted to birth the words on your tongue, the words you knew you’d have to say, the words that would change your life forever. To say them to Johana, an invested second-party, was one thing. To say them to the father of your child, your Commander, your owner, your lover--that was something else, entirely. And if you had known he would have returned the day you’d told her, you would have waited. But it was too late for that, now.

Sighing, you stared at your belly. It was too late for a lot of things.

The familiar, powerful stride of Kylo Ren resonated through the hardwood, each step gripping the chambers of your heart, binding tighter as he drew closer. Your mouth was a tundra, frozen and dry, your throat knotted with one thousand thick fears. Another step, and another--your fingers dug into the sheets--another step, and one more--you focused on the ceiling, hoping he wouldn’t see you quaking from the threshold.

The door opened, and there stood your Commander, his broad shoulders flooding the frame, dressed entirely in black--a fitted, tactical jacket, a matching outfit that covered up to his neck, his leather gloves, and knee-high boots. His hair was mussed, wild with sweat, framing his face in a raven storm, and when he gazed at you, sparks of excitement snapped within his eyes. You went to swallow those thousand fears, and they lodged in your larynx, halting any sounds that could have hoped to form. He was a meal you’d been starved of for weeks--you wanted him to fill you, stuff you until hunger was only a memory.

“You’re here,” he said plainly, as if he hadn’t expected to find his slave in the home he owned.

You nodded. Despite it all, his presence let you breathe for the first time in days. None of the words you wanted to say seemed right. “You’re back.”

“A short detour,” he replied. “The Knights and I are headed to finish what we started.”

Blushing, you bit your lip to hide the smile that began to form. You couldn’t remember ever aching to be in someone’s arms. “You wanted to see me.”

His focus traveled over your body, shoulders falling. “You’re safe.” The knot in his throat bobbed, and he met your eyes again. “I’ll be departing shortly.”

“Oh.” You needed to tell him. He needed to know from you before anyone else that you were pregnant. With his child. Chin quivering, you steadied your breath. “I’m… I…” As you stared into him, you met a void. It stole every ember of courage you had. So you told another truth instead. “I really… I really missed you.”

Kylo blinked, head tilting. A muscle in his jaw tensed, and his focus drifted to the floor, shoulders crowding as he drew in air through his nose. He glanced at you, lips parting--and he wet them. “Yes.” Something flashed over his gaze. “Come.”

A distant tingle at the back of your neck. He turned into the hall, and you followed.

Trailing behind him, you cursed yourself. Two words--there were only two words that you needed to say, yet it seemed impossible to get them into the world, the mere notion nauseating. Kylo’s position had the capability to decimate you and your dreams for this child--to think of growing, nurturing, and bearing it for him to raise with another woman was horrifying. And perhaps even more horrifying was the possibility that he’d reject that future with just as much vehemence as you.

On its surface, it seemed ideal--an actualization of what you desperately wanted. But between you and your Commander, a baby became an ultimatum, a jagged iron ball in your chest. He would have to choose between you and Gilead, choose to free you or possess you, and in turn force your own hand with the Resistance. You did not want him to make you make that decision--you wanted this unborn child to one day know its father. And you wanted that knowledge to be more than a photograph in a textbook. More than seeing his name headlined in the news.

Through the halls and up the stairs, not a soul stirred. Johana had departed before he’d even arrived. It was difficult not to watch him move; even in his stride he was commanding, seemingly dictating to the air how much oxygen it could hold. And if that truly wasbwhat he was doing, it was working--your lungs grew hungrier with every step. His boots creaked the floorboards, naming your fear in rhythm, and when you reached the entrance to his room, you followed him in.  

The door shut behind you, and Kylo moved past you, shrugging off his coat and stowing it on a hook. He turned, drinking you in, need pouring into his eyes.

“Your dress,” he said. “I don’t want you in it.”

Heat rushed your thighs. “There was nothing else for me to wear.”

He sniffed. “I know,” he said. “But now you’re with me.” A slight shift in his feet, his gaze raking over you. “Take it off.”

A shiver skittered up your spine, and you looked to your right, a dark oak cheval mirror framing your reflection. You imagined your stomach big and wide in front of you, red dress billowing with your burgeoning belly. Who knew how long he might be gone after this? Perhaps this would be the last time he’d see your body as he’d known it, before it morphed to a mother’s image. A shallow, self-conscious part of you bit its nails, forgetting the question of your future entirely, more concerned about how he’d perceive your changing figure. You shook the anxiety away--you could do it. You could tell him.

Kylo stepped closer. “Don’t make me wait.”

Your mouth dried, brain screeching to speak, to let it go, to just say it, say the words--

Another step. “You said you missed me.”

--just say the fucking words just tell him--

He stepped again, closer still. “Show me.”

--just fucking tell him that--

“Little bird--”

“I’m pregnant!”

Kylo stopped, paralyzed in place. You searched his expression, seeking anything that could be confused for comfort, finding nothing in the vacancy of his face--he only stared, a statue, not even bothering to breathe. Heart thumping in your ears, you shrugged, gesturing to yourself in resignation.

“I am,” you said. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence lingered, a suffocating unknown. Kylo’s jaw clenched--yet he still said nothing, still refused to move, still denied you the relief of his response. Holding a sigh, you folded your arms over your chest, meeting his unyielding eyes.

“Well.” You shrugged again. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

He blinked, and his fists furled, gaze roaming your body in something you could have sworn was divination. Air fled him. He swallowed.

“What, um…” You chewed your cheek. You wanted to explode. “What do you think?”

A long pause. He continued to scrutinize you. “I think…” He approached, peeling off his gloves, a malicious delight darkening his face. “You’re finally mine.”

You choked. His meant so many things, a word in purgatory, its intention tugged taut between the ether of heaven and hell. And it was true: you were his, wanted to be his in nearly every aspect of your existence except for the most meaningful and precious part, a part you hadn’t surrendered, your only source of sanity within the typhoon of your mutual obsession. He didn’t have your mind, yet, had not broken your will. A tiny, shrinking hope believed he no longer wanted to--but that same hope knew that at any moment, it could be dashed.

“But what’s…” Your lips trembled. “What’s going to happen, then?”

Kylo crowded you, stalked behind you to tower over you; he pinched your cheeks in his long fingers, forcing you to meet his glittering eyes in the mirror. You shuddered, stepping back to feel more of his solid figure. His enormity dizzied you, weakened your knees--against this howitzer of a human, you were a red and white shell, prepared especially for him to use up and spit out.

“Mm.” He reached down, still gripping your chin, and gathered your dress in his fist, exposing your calves, your knees, your thighs, until he’d revealed your underwear. Lingering for a moment, he hiked the whole skirt to your waist. “Hold it.”

Without hesitation, you obeyed.

“What’s going to happen.” A warm, smooth hand coasted over the curve of your hip, across the expanse of your naked thigh. “Your hips will get wider.” He squeezed the flesh, kneading it in his palm. “Thicker.” The word was molasses on his tongue. Leaning closer, he pressed his mouth to your throat--you whimpered, cunt clenching. He slipped between your legs for only a moment, choosing instead to graze your abdomen.

In anticipation, you lifted your skirt to your ribs. This hadn’t been what you’d meant. But

Kylo Ren’s power crackled from him like crimson lightning, a dragon strength that had been unchained now for weeks. It intoxicated you, fuzzied your brain with a creeping desire so terrible you wished for a muzzle. Unfortunately, you were without one. And it was consuming you.

“Your belly will grow with my child.” He caressed your stomach, reveling as it tensed under his touch. His gaze never wavered from yours, drilling you in your reflection as he rubbed you. “So round and swollen.” Soft lips skimmed your pulse, mouthing the quickening beat of your heart--a sharp, rough movement, and your dress was gone, the effort tossing your bonnet aside with it.

Yes, any discussion you might have been willing to have was certainly tabled, now. Eighteen days without his touch had left you raw, and your skin sparkled with it, a craving chorus in your cells. In this moment, fuck what being his meant--you wanted it. You’d be pregnant for 8 more months, anyway. For now, you’d drown in the delicious, vulgar words leaving your Commander’s mouth.

“And your breasts.” He snatched your jaw again, humming into your ear while he squeezed one in his big hand, thumb brushing your stiffening nipple, pleasure echoing in your pussy. His stare was ravenous, flaying you with hungry claws. “They’ll be full and tight and heavy…”

Breath hitching, engulfed in a deluge of lust, you wriggled against him, reaching to dig into his legs. Kylo stilled you, tugging you to his lips, rolling and pressing your tit. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you groaned, catching the mirror from the corner of your vision--in your black bear’s embrace, you were his half-shucked supper, begging in silence to be devoured.

Kylo nipped your lower lip, pinching tighter to your chin, and you whined, jerking his pelvis into you, tongue fighting with his own. His kiss was hot, needy, selfish, his mouth working yours while he rocked his arousal along your backside. A strong hand pushed and kneaded your breast, twisting and pulling the bud; you gasped in pleasure, broke the kiss--and felt something wet seep over your skin.

The sensation nearly strangled you, and you stumbled back to his chest, meeting his gaze in the mirror, your eyes wide with shock. Beneath his lower lid, a muscle fluttered. He crushed your tit, earning another tingle in your nerves, another unmistakable damp blot in your bra. You squirmed in his hold, face hot with humiliation, chin quaking as the realization washed over you both.

Growling, Kylo tore the garment from your shoulders, popping the hooks at your back apart, and following that, he yanked your underwear to your ankles, tossing them with your boots before wrapping you back in his arms. He nuzzled into your neck as he watched you in the mirror, basking in the sight of your naked flesh before pinning you across the waist with his forearm, free hand cupping your tit, rolling and kneading it again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening; at only 6 or 7 weeks along, you knew enough to know it was rare that you’d be producing at all. But what was more unbelievable was how deeply it excited Kylo--his eyes dark, his grip possessive--and in turn, how deeply it excited you. His thick fingers tweaked your tender nipple, his breath catching as thin, white fluid trickled from the tip and over his knuckles--you writhed, tides of heat crashing over your skin.

“Stop.” He bit your neck in warning, licking his lips and squeezing more warm milk from your breast, mesmerized by the little forming creeks. The sight was tantalizingly lewd, inspiring fire between your thighs, making your cunt ache for friction. He sneered. “You like this, hm?”

Goosebumps covered half of your body by now. Why lie? “Yes,” you admitted, cheeks burning.

“Filthy thing.” He trapped you in his gaze, the hand at your breast skimming over your stomach, dipping into your slit, teasing your clit, sending ripples of bliss through your thighs. “Getting wet from me playing with your tits like this.” He stroked the now stiff, swollen bud, clear drops beading. “Is this how the mother of my child should behave?”

You shuddered. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t apologize, little whore.” Kylo snickered, collecting a thumbful, and shoved it into your mouth. “Do your job and suck.”

Groaning, you sealed your lips and swirled your tongue around his digit, lids fluttering with the taste of sour-sweet fluid, blood swimming with perverted exhilaration. He continued to stare into you, now working your other breast, his pelvis still rocking, his chest heaving at your back. You bucked against him, a famished animal, grateful for the iron of his erection along your ass as your clit twitched--you weren’t sure how much longer you could go without attending to it. Purring, Kylo removed his thumb from your mouth and wet his hand in the milk that had spilled over your stomach, painting you with it before pushing his own fingers between his teeth and suckling them clean. A moan escaped him, and you echoed him, the sheer deviancy wringing you of sanity, and with that same hand, he seized your chin and pulled you into a rough, desperate kiss.

As he kissed you, he sank to his knees, taking you with him--he had you bound, groping at your sore breast, your mouth stuck to his, your hands still holding his hips. He growled, bit your lip again before smothering the column of your throat with kisses, pulling away to see more milk drip through his digits and over your belly. You shivered, and his back crested with desire; he released your breast, still holding your neck as he unbuckled his belt and freed his cock.

The heavy, thick length slid between your spread thighs, slicking itself on your throbbing cunt--you gasped, melting into him, dragging your folds along his shaft, fighting to keep your eyes on his in the mirror. Kylo sneered again, cranking your throat to the side and snatching a breast before biting the meat of your shoulder, cock pulsing when you whinged in delighted pain.

“Stroke me, slut,” he muttered at your skin. “Make me feel good.”

Your core ached, and with a trembling hand, you gripped him, watching his gaze darken as you glided your comparably small fist up and down his dick, clenching when it twitched in your palm.

He hummed in approval. “Good girl...”

Kylo continued to nip and suck at your shoulder while you jerked him, stare unfaltering, still massaging milk from your tit, soaking his fingers in fluid. His cock was so smooth, so hard, you wanted, needed it inside of you--you chewed your lip, trying to wiggle yourself flush with his frame. Grunting, he crushed you in his hold, and you squeaked in assent; when he resumed nibbling your throat, you passed your thumb over the head of his dick, coating the shaft with precum, stroking him faster.

“That’s right.” He was thrusting into your hand, teeth cutting welts across your neck. “Look at you. Dirty little bitch.” Smirking, he dropped your breast, licking your milk from his fingers before shoving them in your mouth, forcing a moan. “It’s been almost three weeks.” He reached the back of your tongue, and you gagged. “Do you think my cock will still fit in that little pussy?” Kylo left a long, lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw, spearing you with his gaze. “Is it going to hurt when I fuck you open?”

You swallowed and nodded, clenching around the very obvious nothing inside of you, tightening your grip on his hot, throbbing length.

“Good.” He bit your jawline, now. “It should hurt.” A sharp jerk into you, and you groaned onto his fingers, drool streaming down your chin. “Your cunt should only stretch for me.”

Lust clouded your brain; any thought outside of the demand for Kylo Ren’s dick ramming deep into your pussy had long dissipated into the air. This was salacious, disgusting, thrilling, your body completely in his service, about to be filled with both his child and his cock. Freedom be damned--in this moment, you were a vessel, and you clamored for him to vindicate you, to make your purpose whole.

Swiveling your neck, he kissed you, murmuring against your lips. “You want me?”

You nodded again, whimpering around his hand.

He pulled out of your mouth and dropped your breast, leaning back onto his heels. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Your cunt pulsed with anticipation. Nodding, you eased back, heat at your cheeks as you glimpsed yourself in the mirror attempting to situate yourself over his length. Kylo was stoic, observing you with only a hint of amusement in his eyes, and you took his shaft in your fingers, leading it toward your wet, aching core. Catching his gaze in the mirror, you lowered yourself onto it, seething as it split you inch by inch.

Kylo’s jaw tensed, and he sucked in air through his teeth, fists at his sides while he watched your tight pussy swallow his dick. You fought for air and winced while you eased to the hilt, his girth stretching you, stuffing you with a sting. Panting, you shifted your legs, feeling it full and warm inside your cunt, driving into the pit of your belly. You cinched around him, and he hissed in pleasure, stifling the urge to buck into you.

Locking with his eyes, you rolled your hips with slow, controlled movements, sliding up and down his cock, bracing your thighs. He pulsed at your entrance, spurring you on, letting him bask in the drag of your walls along his swollen length. In his reflection, Kylo’s cheeks were pink, his lips parted, his chest rising with steadied breath--he was hypnotized by the view of your cunt riding his dick.

“Good girl.” His voice was heavy with desire, and his hands moved to caress your thighs--not in assistance, but in admiration. “That’s it. I know how greedy your pussy is.” He squeezed you, gliding up your sides.

Quaking with hunger, you crept toward your clit, glancing it with a feather-touch--you clamped around him, beaten with bliss. But Kylo batted you away, humming in admonishment.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” He clucked his tongue, and you whined, rocking faster on top of him. “There we go.” Groping your sides, he caught a moan in his throat. “You have me inside of you. A part of me I gave you.” He shifted your legs wider. “You belong to me, now. This cunt.” Calloused fingers skimmed your clit, flicking it, and you squealed, slamming onto him, his dick twitching in delight. “These tits.” His free hand kneaded them, coaxing drops of milk onto his palm. “Even this nasty little mouth is mine.” Kylo snagged your chin, crushing your lips with his.

His tongue wrestled with yours while you undulated your hips, leaning into him until you were seated on his lap, pace quickening. Drawing in air through his nose, he traced circles around your clit, and you wailed into him, the stimulation tightening your pussy, soaking your walls. You bounced on him, kissing him in heated fervor, your bodies rocking in time as you chased his soft lips.

Kylo broke away, heaving, and whipped your head toward the mirror. His eyes were wild ebony, his hips canting with yours--and you could see it, see the root of his throbbing cock as it drove into you, see the slick coat of your juices along his shaft, see him rubbing your stiff nub. The obscenity of it shook you, and you gasped, climax building between your thighs.

“Little slut,” he purred. “You love watching yourself get fucked.” Faster friction on your clit, pleasure rushing you, and you groaned, unable to tear your gaze from the sight of him sinking over and over into your pussy. ”You’re going to cum for me, hm? I can feel it.” A jolt of his hips, shoving the breath from your lungs, and he swirled your nub, panting into your ear. “Cum on it, bitch,” he muttered. “Show me how you cum on my cock.”  

Rapture ripped through you, and you quailed, attention glued to your pussy, watching it throb and clench and squeeze his shaft with every wave of ecstasy--and Kylo saw too, grunting behind you as you rode the rest of your orgasm, dick twitching with an urgent need to pour his seed inside of you.

“Fuck.”

He tossed you to your hands and knees, ignoring your wobble for stability in the aftershocks of your climax. Your head spun--you’d barely said a word since he’d started fucking you out of pure bewilderment. Between your tits leaking milk, the performance in the mirror, and the pure passion that had enthralled your Commander, speech had become useless. All you needed was his touch, his voice, his presence, and all you needed from them was their promise of oblivion.

You looked to the mirror--behind you, Kylo Ren was starved, his mouth dropped in anticipation while he lined up his cock with your dripping core. Strong hand burying bruises to your hip, he snarled and slammed deep; you sobbed in bliss, locking your elbows, and he grappled your hips, holding you tight and pounding your cunt.

The power of his thrusts stole your breath, quaked your bones, your cries of pleasure hiccuped by the rapid strokes of his hips. Kylo growled, his eyes trained on your ass, skin smacking skin with loud slaps--you were captivated, flames flickering in your belly, stoked by the sheer eroticism of watching him fuck your pussy. A hard, vicious plunge--you shrieked, and you could see him smirk to himself, his hair tumbling onto his face as he plowed you again and again, piercing your cervix, relishing in his domination of your body.

He met your gaze, huffing in satisfaction. “It’s going to get worse,” he said. “You’ll be desperate for my cock.” A shift, and he yanked your ass into the air, pumping faster, intensity shaking your frame. “You’ll be begging for it the second you wake up.” He wound your hair in his fist, popping your neck back to hunch over you. “I’ll have to tie you to my bed.”

“Kylo...”

“You wanted this,” he said, “you wanted to have something inside of you that’s mine.”

“Yes,” you said, because despite your fears, it was your deepest, most shameful wish come true, “yes, I wanted this, wanted it with you--”

“Fuck!” Scowling, he spat a fat glob onto the mirror right in front of your face. “Lick it up.”

You whimpered, the sound stuttered from the violent pace of his cock. “Kylo--”

He spanked you, and you cried out, his other hand jerking your scalp. “Lick it up if you want to cum again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your tongue to the glass, groaning with embarrassment and gathering his spit on your tongue. His dick was hollowing you out, rending you wide--you could hardly focus on the motion of your mouth as you cleaned his saliva from the mirror and swallowed it. Wincing, you collapsed into your folded forearms, shuddering with every painful thrust.

Kylo pulled out, and you almost howled in protest, but he was quick, flipping you to your back and angling the mirror to reflect your sweating, fucked-out face. He grabbed your legs and spread them, strangling a moan as he hooked your hips and drove back in. Keeping his pace, he wrecked your cunt, grip threatening to crack your pelvis, face contorted in a focused fury, black locks now strewn over his forehead and sticking to his reddened cheeks. His primal gaze ravaged you, wandering your body before stopping at your jiggling chest.

“Look at that,” he growled through his teeth. “How your tits bounce.” He wet his lips. “How full they’re going to be for me.” Inching forward, he hiked your ankles onto his shoulders. “Play with them.”

You grabbed your breasts, the flesh soft and pliant in your palm, and kneaded them, biting your lip, wanting to drive him over the edge. It worked, you thought; he bent closer, a voracious brute, pummelling your pussy, pushing deeper than you considered possible, wracking you numb. And as he did, your display squeezed fluid from your nipples, inches from his mouth--he groaned, loud, shameless, and latched onto your tit.

His lids shut in utter elation as he sucked you, liquid leaking from his lips, and he fucked you fast, chasing his orgasm, moaning into your chest. You wove a hand through his hair, scraping his scalp, the other still working your breast, lost in the sensation of Kylo suckling it. Somehow, in the wildfire of absolute depravity within his bedroom, he remembered what you’d earned--fingers fell to your clit, teasing and stroking it, and you choked.

It descended upon you--the promise of oblivion--as you found one breath, another breath, and then found yourself in the mirror, skin gleaming, expression wrought with pleasure, shaking with the pistoning of Kylo’s hips. And Kylo--frizzed waves spilled over your throat, his head burrowed in your breast while he nipped, sucked, sated himself on your tits. There you both were, a diamond fragment of unacknowledged utopia; a deceptive mirage, fated to fade in a sudden cold splash.

But you were in utopia, right now--and you disintegrated inside it, crying your Commander’s name, spasming as euphoria eroded your mind. You convulsed, climax pulled like buried thread from your skin, slitting you open and bleeding you of bliss. Kylo hummed into your breast, and then shoved back, pulling from your still-pulsing pussy, panting and fucking his fist.

“Fuck,” he said, straddling your waist. “Fu--fuck!”

Jets of hot, white cum splattered across your tits, arcing over the supple swells, decorating you in debauchery. He heaved, stroking his cock as it dribbled his release, lungs pulling in long, slow breaths, the both of you descending. You gazed up at him, ribs rattling as you floated in air, and Kylo smirked, two fingers scooping up his seed and your milk--he wrapped his lips around them, cleaning them with his tongue. When he was finished, he took that same hand, pried your jaw open, and spit the mixture into your mouth.

Writhing, you gagged, but he snapped your teeth together, lip twitching cruelly.

“Swallow it,” he said. “Swallow it all.”

The concoction was thick and slimy and bitter--your eyes watered when you gulped it down, feeling it slither down your throat.

Kylo was fascinated. “Mm. Prove it.”

You stuck your empty tongue over your teeth, humiliation singing your skin.

He grunted in praise. “Good,” he said, patting your cheek. “Good girl.”

A silent moment passed, and a sigh escaped him. He rose to his feet, crossing to the bathroom, leaving you splayed over the hardwood, smothered in sweat and semen. Beyond the threshold, you heard running water, squeaking of knobs--and then Kylo returned, pieced back to modesty, a black towel in his hand. You pulled your lips in over your teeth, snuffing the flicker of affection in your ribcage.

Face blank, he wiped you off, tending to you as if you were a window or tabletop, and not the mother of his child, not the woman he’d cuddled and caressed and kissed. Once finished, he met your eyes, blinked, and stood, tossing the towel into the clothes basket.  

In the hall, the thumping of heavy boots--your heart raced, and you glanced at your Commander, who seemed unconcerned. A fist or mallet or something else hefty hammered the door, shaking it in its frame.

“Intel that Pryde’s camp is moving tonight.” It was a Knight. “We need to leave now, sir.”

Kylo huffed. “Fine.” The boots exited the hall, and he looked to you. “Get dressed. You’re coming.”

You blinked, sitting up on your elbows. “What?” you asked. “Why?”

His jaw stiffened. “Your condition.” He looked to the floor and found his gloves, tugging them on. “Your safety is only guaranteed in my presence.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t decide if you were overjoyed or terrified. You gestured toward your dress. “Should I…”

“No.” He moved toward the door and grabbed his jacket. “Find a robe. Be ready when I return.”

He slipped into the hall, and you sighed, shaking your head. There was still a conversation you had yet to have, one that you now dreaded even more than before. The return of your sanity post-fuck brought with it the return of your doubts, the return of your fears. Standing, you pulled on your underwear, shoving your tender tits back into your bra.

You knew Kylo had once sought to own you in totality, and you also knew now he saw you as human, that he had rejected your personal enslavement. But it hadn’t freed you from his desire to cage you within his world, to keep you in compulsory companionship, or to convince you of his philosophy. He still saw himself--and you--entangled in the talons of destiny, manacled to misery, an inevitable, fatal conclusion. What he believed your destiny, your role to truly be, you didn’t know--but you assumed he wanted to shackle you to it, whether you agreed or not.

The robe you’d worn after Johana had stitched you still hung on the bathroom door. You draped it over you and tied it tight, the hem kissing the floor even after you put on your boots. Gazing into the mirror, you saw a woman adorned with all of the trappings of domesticity, but denied its security, refused its warmth. No matter the intimacy you craved from your Commander, you could not exist as a family in the boundaries of Gilead. His child could not be born into its father’s hopeless home.

Kylo Ren would admit the existence of choice, he would cede it to you. Or you would take it, and abandon him to his despair.

The door opened. In the threshold loomed a black reaper, a spectre of nightmares, a masked monster. Your Commander, suited with his helmet, strapped with a rifle, stared you down from behind his visor.

“Come.” The distortion of his voice iced your chest. “We’re leaving.”

He turned, deserting you in his room. Panic deafened you, screamed in your ears, but despite it all, you followed. You didn’t know where you’d be going. But you suspected that once you arrived, there’d be no turning back.

[princessjungeun]

Behind The Mask: Yeji x Reader

This wasn’t requested by anyone but the trailer just- i have many ideas

Cw: Murder, blood, talk of drugs

Your head in your hands, you nervously paced around your bedroom. Never in your life have you messed up a job you were given, especially after you realized everyone who fucked up like you just did coincidentally went missing two hours later.

“Y/N calm down, you’re going to be fine. You’ve worked here since we were twelve. Never once have you messed up...so they can’t take it that bad right?” Your “brother” Felix tried to reassure you that you were going to be fine but in actuality he was just as worried as you were.

The worst part was that the job was simple, get the package, shoot the delivery kid, come home. However, you somehow managed to not only forget to get the package, you also didn’t shoot the delivery kid.

The empty warehouse downtown was like your second home honestly. You spent more time here rather than the actual house. Most of your jobs were assigned here as well.

Walking in you immediately saw familiar faces, some smoked, others drank, some talked, the occasional hookup happening in the corner.

“Hey babe.” A man walked up to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, unwrapping his arm from you, “fuck off Kai...still not interested.” He smiled, running his thumb underneath your chin “your loss, you know where to find me when you change your mind pretty girl.”

Shuddering and letting out a light gag, you brushed off your shoulders, trying to rid yourself of his presence.

Finding the delivery point you waited around in a dark corner, mask on, hold up, gloves comfortably placed on your hands. From where you were you could see Felix in the back parking lot, leaning against his car cooly.

Keeping lookout was definitely a job Felix preferred instead of the actual dirty work. You watched your phone for his signal before making a move. Once he gave it you casually walked out to collect that package from the delivery kid.

Seeing your phone light up you read the message Felix send, indicating that the exchange was about to take place.

You waited for the other person to arrive, making sure your handgun was loaded, and the lock was off. In the low lit room you saw someone walk in, adorned in black jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, you could tell they were new at this. Hair flowing down their back their skin was the only thing light enough to see in the dim light.

“H-hello?” A somewhat deep voice, but feminine voice echoed throughout the room. You felt your heart sinking when you recognized the voice.

Heejin, your ex girlfriend.

Knowing Heejin won’t recognize your presence, you stepped forwards and asked “do you have what I need?” She nodded, pulling a thread at her sweater paws. Slipping out the small envelope she held you what you needed in her hands. You reached out for it and she drew her hand back, “give me what I need first.”

Without hesitation you pulled out your hand gun, pointing it at her. A look of fear washed over her face, her knees starting to shake beneath her. She held her hands up “please...please don’t. Whatever I’ll just go please!” Your finger slid over the trigger before hearing a weak cry slip past her lips “please...” The sound was all too familiar to you, as this was the same way you saw her, scared and confused when you broke up with her two years ago.

Seeing your hand freeze and start to tremble, she took this as a moment to dash out of sight. Springing as fast as her small legs could carry her, she ran away from you, the package you needed in hand. Chasing after her was pointless, she was already long gone.

You put your handgun away, and walked back to the car where Felix was waiting for you. Seeing that your hands were empty his face went pale. He himself had never not completed a job, however he knew some boys who did. They never returned to the house afterwards.

The drive home was silent, your hands trembled as you had to call your boss and tell them you hadn’t completed your job. Your stomach dropped when they ended the conversation with “I’ll see you at home.”

Felix and you took the longest way possible back to the house. He even went so far under the speed limit he almost got pulled over for it. But you both knew it was just best to stop stalling and rip off the bandage.

The second you got into the house Felix did his best to calm you down. But shortly after went to his boyfriend’s room, knowing that he was safe because he was only the driver.

You heard a loud knock at the door, heart pounding in your chest you opened it slowly. A tall thin boy with feline type features stood over you.

“Are you Y/N?”

You nodded and he grabbed your arm pulling you to the car. Shoving you in the backseat he simply said “you’re the one that has the boss all worked up huh?”

Swallowing thickly you responded “I-Yeah...I messed up.”

He looked at you in the rear view mirror, his eyes lingering for a second on your lips. Smirking slightly he responded “you’ll be fine...Yeji’ll like you.”

All you could think was “Who the hell is Yeji”

The drive felt like an eternity and by the time you reached the destination you didn’t know where you were at all.

The boy grabbed your arm and yanked you out of the car, putting an arm behind your back. Pushing you to walk, he left you from behind into the building. All the lights were off as he shoved you into a chair.

The cold metal against the back of your bare thighs you shifted uncomfortably. Your old gym shorts riding up as you moved in place. The boy tied your arms down at your sides with a rope.

The lights turned on and you heard was a voice, a female voice to be exact.

“So you’re the one who pussied out on a job?” Her tone was dull, emotionless, but that made it all the more terrifying.

“I asked you a question.” A thick silence fell over you two while she waited for an answer.

You responded “y-yes maam...”

She asked “why didn’t you finish the job?”

You replied “...it was my ex- i had to shoot my ex but i couldn’t.”

Her voice echoed through the room “hmmm...you loved her or something? Still emotionally attached to her? Do you still love her?”

Nervously you stuttered out “yeah- i mean just a little...I just didn’t expect to see her...I’m kind of scared...”

She chuckled lightly, “relax princess...i’m not gonna hurt you.”

As she spoke those few words you felt hands slide down your arms, her nails slightly scratching you.

Her lips by your ears she stated “well everyone makes mistakes pretty girl. I want you to pay in due time. Luckily i’m in a good mood. I’ll let you redeem yourself. Understand?”

You shook your head “not- um...not really no?”

She caressed the side of your face “you’re gonna be my bitch...untie her Hyunjin.”

Her voice was still blunt, no specific tone you could identify. However it still sent chills down your spine. The boy released your hands from the chair, forcing you to stand.

Pulling you along she spoke “Let’s go princess.”

Opening the passenger door she let you in first, as she walked around the front you got a good glimpse of her side profile.

She was beautiful, maybe even more. Her nose was sharp and pointed. Her jawline not extremely defined but it still added to her beauty.

Swinging open the door she got in, you watched as she slid one leg in after another. Noticing she had stilettos you wondered if she could drive with them on. But your thoughts were answered when she stepped on the gas, making you sink back into the seat.

Feeling a warm hand creep onto your thigh, you looked over at the girl. Her eyes glued to the road as she drove you both to who knows where. The cat shaped eyes slowly narrowed as she smirked, sliding her hand further up your exposed leg.

When you reached your destination you definitely didn’t know where you were. The gigantic mansion in front of you was something you’d only ever imagined in movies.

“Never seen a mansion before baby?” The girl asked, her hand holding onto yours. You shook your head no following her inside.

•

•

•

Laying in her gigantic California king bed, you faced her as she asked you a few questions. “So how’d a pretty little thing like you end up working for me hmm?” She brushed her finger underneath your chin gently.

Fumbling with your fingers underneath the covers you responded “I got kicked out when I was twelve...this woman told me she knew someone who could help me. I met some guy named Rain...he took me to this house. He told me I could live there if I did jobs here and there. I had nowhere to go so I agreed.”

Her features softened more than you’d seen that day. Eyes wandering everywhere but her face you picked at the skin on your thumb nervously.

Feeling a hand gently over yours, she asked “you have a question. What is it?”

Still looking down you responded “Well you’re so young...how- how am I working for you. How are we all working for you?”

Yeji simply stated “my dad ran this business. But I wanted it...so I killed him.”

Your eyes shot up to meet hers, she didn’t show any signs of remourse or regret from her actions. This slightly concerned you, how she could just talk so casually about something so horrible. However those worries disappeared when you felt her hand slipping behind your neck she pulled you just millimeters from her lips.

Her warm breath ghosted your lips “I always get what I want.”

She pressed her lips gently against yours, thumb grazing the back of your head.

As taken aback by her actions as you were, you didn’t stop her. This felt good...although you were terrified of this girl, you were still drawn to her.

•

•

•

Months passed and you were still Yeji’s....whatever she wanted to call you at this point. Sometimes it was “my girl” other times it was “just a friend”. However, the second you two got privacy you were the only thing that mattered to her.

Your coworkers so to speak we’re surprised at the two of you. Everyone who’s met Yeji is either a friend of her dad’s, or dead.

Since being “with” you, she was different to those around her. When she spoke it didn’t feel threatening. She smiled on very rare occasions, which never happened before.

Without a doubt at this point you loved her, and you could tell she felt something too.

•

•

•

“Baby....” She curled into your side, nuzzling her head into your neck. Holding her small frame flush against you, you hummed “mmmm?”

Yeji pulled away slightly, leaning up and kissing your lips gently. Looking into your eyes she told you “I love you princess.”

You smiled before kissing her again, this time more passionately.

She pushed you back down into the bed, slowly sliding over you finding her way on top. You slid a hand slowly along the small of her back and up, stopping at her waist.

Her hand found yours, interlocking your fingers as she pressed down more into the bed. A soft moan escaped your lips as she slipped her tongue into your mouth.

The two of you stayed like this for a while until you were both out of breath and tired.

After laying on your chest for a while, Yeji decided she wanted to sleep so she walked off into her large closet.

Talking to you from behind the door she asked “how did I get so lucky to meet you?”

You responded with a slight laugh “I should have fucked up a job sooner I guess.”

She asked “what was it you did again?”

Once again you replied “I couldn’t do it...it was my ex but I still loved her. I couldn’t kill someone I loved.”

Yeji walked from her closet, only in a long t shirt that stopped above her knees. “Love stopped you from doing it?”

Before you could respond she moved her hand from behind her back, “but it won’t stop me.”

Three shots fired hitting you straight in the head, killing you instantly. Your lifeless body bled out as she placed her pistol in her bedside drawer.

Stepping closer to you, her eyes narrowed, running her thumb along the top of your hand.

“I told you I wanted you to pay...And I always get what I want Princess.”

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 5

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 9.1k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, swearing, mentions of sexual abuse/manipulation, mentions of non-consensual sex - (these are both mentioned very briefly in the chapter and do not center around any of our main characters, but please be cautious if this is a sensitive topic for you!)

*meme voice* ah shit, here we go again.

thank you everyone for your patience regarding this update!! <3 I appreciate you for waiting patiently and for all your love in the meantime! I hope you enjoy ^^

-------

"Please, will you take this vacation?"

You stare at Namjoon, at the desperation written on his face as he begs you to accept his offer, and a war wages within your heart.

On the one hand, you have no good reason to believe him, not after you’d heard him and his members discussing you behind your back like they did. The key could be a fake, his little theory could be a ruse to let your guard down so you won’t put up a fight when he finally sends you packing.

On the other hand, you’ve never had reason to doubt Namjoon up until an hour ago. He seems to have always looked out for you, always appreciated your work. This could be a genuine plea for your cooperation in a bigger picture, like he claims.

But the shadow of doubt still covers you. The sound of him and his boys squabbling so carelessly, taking a vote on your future. You can’t let that memory go so easily.

“Never trust your client. They will only betray you in the end.” The words of Madame run through your mind again, as if confirming your fears.

You want to believe Namjoon. But you need to protect yourself before anything else.

You slowly break away from his grasp, taking the key and tucking it into a pocket on your belt. “Kim Namjoon...” you say, your eyes cast downwards.

He seems more relaxed now that you’ve taken his peace offering, and he tilts his head to the side, listening intently. “Yes?”

Your brain claws desperately at a strategy, at anything you could use as leverage. But all you have are words. What can you say? What protection do you have left? You’re putting yourself at his mercy.

“During my time in this house... I have learned many things about you and your members. Things I don’t think you want the public to find out about.”  Lies. He knows it. You know it. The only secrets you know are their kinks, which aren’t exactly damning to their characters. Even if you did have dirt on them, who would listen to you? 

You continue, though your voice sounds uncertain, even to your own ears. “If you’re lying to me about any of this, then I swear...  I’ll do what I have to, and... ensure that you pay for your mistake.” You try to imbue strength and determination into your words, but your heart isn’t in it, and you’re sure he can tell. You can’t even meet his eyes. You have no fight left in you. You’re like a frightened animal that’s been backed into a corner.

Fuck. You’re just so tired of this, of everything. You’ve been through too much recently with not even a moment to catch your breath, and you’re just… exhausted. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve done your best, you’ve gone down swinging. But you can’t do it anymore, it’s all too much...

You feel numb as Namjoon wraps you into his arms. When did he come over to your side of the table? You don’t remember, you can’t think clearly.

“It’s okay.” Namjoon’s breath is warm against your cheek. “You can rest now.”

Can he read your mind? You must look so pathetic, your body shaking as he holds you tightly, like you might float away.

But right now, you don’t care. He’s seen you at your worst already. You choke on a quiet sob and your fingers twitch, longing to reach up and hold him, to reciprocate...

“Alright, has everything been sorted?” Yeji’s arrival carries away those ideas, and Namjoon pulls away from you with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

“I believe it has,” he says, and he stands up to greet her as the two of them start to wrap up the details of your agreement. Their words turn to buzzing as the rest of the meeting passes by in a blur. You're too dazed to pay attention, too numb to feel anything but a vague sense of resignation as papers are signed, handshakes are given, and your fate is placed in his hands.

Before you know it, you’re back up in your room again. Whatever farewell that Namjoon had probably wished you as you shut the door had fallen on deaf ears. You can’t process anything more right now.

-------

The first few hours of your sentence pass by in silence, tears slowly trickling down your face as you lay on your bed. Your brain slowly works through its state of catastrophe. Dimly, you worry that you might never pick up all the pieces. Some have blown away in the recent whirlwind of disaster, some are stained, irreparable, all of them worn from being taped and glued back together, over and over again.

You feel broken.

Is this what they wanted? To break you?

You roll over onto your other side, uselessly wiping the tears from your face as fresh ones spring to your eyes to replace them.

You know, somewhere inside yourself, that you can’t just sit here and throw a pity party all week. But damn it, it’s been a while.

You just need a little time. Soon, you’ll be back on your feet, you tell yourself. You’ll bounce back, just like always. You’ve never failed before.

But what if you do? What if you fail yourself, fail the boys? Fail your family, yet again? You want to curl up and never move for the rest of your life. The craggy void of failure at your feet has you nearly paralyzed, afraid to misstep. Afraid to get that last strike and finally be sent home.

You groan. You’re so exhausted and frustrated of picking yourself apart like this. There's no point in agonizing over what ifs.

You’re here. You’ve arrived at rock bottom. Now the question is where to go?

It feels eerily calm as you sit up in bed and survey your surroundings. No noise pierces the utter stillness of your bedroom apart from your own breathing. It’s stifling.

By now, it has to have been at least a full day since you came upstairs, right? You feel like you’ve been laying on this bed for ages. You grab your ComGear to check the time, and whimper in despair.

It’s only noon. About two hours since the meeting.

After another brief bout of agony at this revelation, you take a second look at the screen and are surprised to see over a hundred notifications. You expect it to be due to the group chat, but a fair amount of them are actually from your clients. You don’t bother to open each conversation, but merely look over their previews - the most recent messages they sent you.

[   Kim Seokjin   ]: please try to get some rest, alright? [  Jung Hoseok  ]: I’m sorry… truly. please enjoy your time off. [     Park Jimin    ]: just let me know! ^^; [  Kim Namjoon  ]: Promise. [    Min Yoongi    ]: you know where to find me [  Kim Taehyung ]: enjoy your vacation, jagiya~ ♡ [ Jeon Jungkook ]: are you coming down for lunch?

All of them messaged you, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. It hurts to see them pretend like everything’s fine and see if that makes it better somehow. It looks like most of them didn’t even try to apologize for what they did to you. Maybe you really aren’t that important to them after all.

Could they see through your attempts to befriend them all this time? Did all of their kindness to you mean nothing? Is that how they treat all of their employees?

You feel tears threatening again, and you wish you had a friend to talk to about all this.

Then it occurs to you that maybe… you do.

You flick over to the group chat, where you see that the other PhysComs are now talking about some webtoon and sending memes to each other. You tap on Sascha’s profile again. The same page greets you, the same blank profile picture and call button as before.

Yeji had said that the chat was real. If that's true, then the people in it must be who they claim they are, right? You do trust Yeji’s word, but you need to find out for yourself. You’ll never be able to fully accept this undercover group chat as a reliable resource until you know for sure.

Hey, if you’re suspended anyway, what’s the harm right? What are they going to do, fire you?

You bark out a sob of a laugh, and your finger hits the button before you can stop yourself. Yes, this might be a bad idea, and yes, you shouldn’t risk putting yourself out there on the hope that it’ll connect you to a friend, but you need to know the truth. You’ll feel better if you know that there’s still someone in this world that truly understands you.

It rings. And rings.

As the ominous buzzing stretches on through the silence, your worry starts to return. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. If the chat room is somehow compromised, you might have just given yourself away, someone high up in the industry could be tracking your location at this very moment from your cell signal or something, or maybe-

“Hello?” Sascha’s voice rings clear as a bell through the phone, and you almost start crying right then and there with relief.

“Sascha?” You can barely utter her name as all your memories of training together hit you like a sucker punch in your already fragile state.

“Oh! Hey, sweetie! How’s it going?” she replies in her chipper way, a smile in her tone.

“... It’s really you,” you whisper, pressing your fist to your pursed lips to keep your emotions at bay. “Sasch.”

“Of course it’s me, silly goose.” Her laugh is bright and airy, just like you remember it. “Who else would it be?”

You wait a beat, scouring your mind for a test to prove your paranoia wrong, just in case. “What… what did I give to you on our last day together?” You ask imperatively, waiting with bated breath for her answer.

It was not something either of you would easily forget, though most people probably would. It’s also the best test you can think of, as anyone else would assume such an important day would go hand in hand with a meaningful keepsake or an important gift.

“A sandwich,” she laughs. “Pastrami and mustard on rye. You shared it with me to celebrate reaching our target weight that month. Though you never let me pay you back. I would have preferred ham, you know.”

Your shoulders visibly relax. It’s Sascha, all right. Compliments and complaints in the same breath. It’s as if hearing her voice, hearing the confirmation that it’s really her, turns on a faucet inside you that had long since dried up.

“Sascha… so much has happened.”

You didn’t fully realize how lonely and isolated you’ve been until this very moment, now that you have some true company. Your story comes spilling out, every sordid detail, and Sascha listens attentively to what you have to say, just like she used to during your training days.

“So, now I’m in my room, and… I don’t even know how I’m going to get through today, let alone a whole week,” you confess, hugging your stuffed rabbit to your chest.

“Let me get this straight.” A while into the call, you’d switched to video chat, and Sascha appears to be doing some yoga stretches while catching up with you. “You have seven men in that house, all of whom you’re supposed to pleasure sexually, and they’re giving you a paid break from pleasuring them?”

You nod. “Awful, isn’t it?”

Sascha’s face twists. “You know, I think you may be viewing this all wrong.”

Your brows furrow. “Excuse me?”

“Hear me out for a second,” she continues, now angling her warrior pose so she’s facing her camera. “When was the last time you had a real break?” She quirks an eyebrow, dipping out of frame to switch poses, her blonde hair spilling over one shoulder in a loose braid. “One where you didn’t even think about work?”

You stare blankly at the camera. You’ve had no such days. You’re always looking to improve yourself to maintain your high marks. “Um…”

Sascha laughs and flashes you a fond smile. “You were the same way in training. You know how many days a week I work?”

You feel shame start to curl in your gut. “How many?”

“Three,” she replies. “And the reason why is because we have like six Primary PCs here at the dorm.” She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face. “There are thirteen boys to satisfy at any given moment, so we each only tackle two to three at a time, and our coverage is considered thin! Most groups have at least one Primary per client.” She reaches down to touch her toes, her ass shimmying in the air, and you snort. “And that’s not even counting our Secondaries! We're practically a fucking harem over here!”

You sigh, chewing on your lip crankily. “What’s your point?”

She pokes her head up to shoot you an equally cranky glare. “Remind me, how many boys do you tackle?”

“Seven,” you mumble. You know what she’s getting at, but it’s something you don’t want to admit, even to yourself. Maybe… objectively… you do need a break, even if you don’t want one. Maybe you’ve been overworking yourself, biting off - or in this case, perhaps swallowing - more than you can chew.

“Right! That’s half the amount of our clients. Doing the math, you should have at least three Primaries there, but it’s just you.” You see Sascha’s leg rise up behind her in some sort of bizarre stretch, and her voice sounds strained with the effort of holding the pose. “I’m not saying you can’t handle it, babes. I’m just saying that... you do a lot for them. Maybe this will be good for you.”

Hearing someone put it so rationally makes you feel like maybe you’ve been overreacting. Namjoon did tell Yeji he wants to keep you, but it all still seems... off, somehow.

“What about the whole vote thing? And Namjoon’s deal?” You bring up your last few defenses at her argument, your hand resting subconsciously on the pocket of your belt containing the key to his studio.

“Oh no, that’s all highly suspicious.” Sascha blows a lock of hair out of her face as she comes back up and lifts her arms over her head. “But what’s happened has already happened. So I think you should make the best of it, and take this time to rejuvenate yourself. Just keep an eye out, and if those bastards try anything, you send them to me.”

You laugh. “Rejuvenate? How am I supposed to do that?” You roll your eyes at her playfully. “Yoga?”

Sascha props a hand on her hip. “Don’t joke. Yoga is a very valid form of rejuvenation.”

You giggle at her stoicism and she cracks a smile too before continuing. “But seriously, honey! It breaks my heart that you’ve been working so hard, you don’t even remember how to have fun. Come on, what did you do in your training days to relax?”

You think back and try to remember. Most of your memories from training are a blur of hard work, endless studying and practice. You’re about to confess that you really have no idea, when a single memory breaks to the surface, and like a dam, it releases a flood of other times you’d taken breaks. Sneaking out to get snacks, late night adventures, stargazing on the rooftop, all of the rare little pockets of time that you could call your own, and they all had one connecting factor.

“Music,” you breathe, feeling like you just stepped out of a time warp. “Listening to music, really, really loudly.”

Sascha laughs, a proud smile adorning her dimpled cheeks. “I think you know how to kick off your vacation, then.”

You find yourself grinning, too. “Thanks, Sasch.” You feel like maybe you should stay on the line a bit longer. You two really have some catching up to do, even though once you’d started talking, it had felt like no time had passed since you’d last seen her.

But Sascha makes your decision for you, blowing you a kiss. “There are tons of music streaming apps. Go crazy. And call me if you need anything, okay?”

The simple act of her being supportive of your wellbeing has you feeling overwhelmed all over again, but this time, it’s not from emotional distress. “Thanks, Sascha. Same to you.”

You’re about to end the call when you hear a door open on Sascha’s end of the line. She looks off camera and a smile pops up on her face. “Antione, come over here!” She yells, running off screen and returning a moment later, dragging a boy behind her, who seems to be grumbling in protest of her manhandling. “Antione, say hi! This is Antione from the group chat.”

The guy seems more than a little ticked off at Sascha, but when he catches sight of you on the screen, his mouth falls open.

“Oh… hello.” He flashes a smile, and his icy blue eyes are now filled with wonderment. “You’re the Primary for BTS?”

“Hi,” You wave a little awkwardly. “Yup, that’s me.” You can’t help noticing how strikingly similar he and Sascha look. With those crystal eyes and buttery blonde hair, you could mistake them for twins, the only difference being Antione’s thinly framed glasses next to Sascha’s 20/20 vision. But you suppose he wouldn’t really need glasses to have sex, they’d surely get knocked around or broken if he left them on. He probably wears contacts for work.

In fact, his similar appearance to his coworker can’t be a coincidence, especially if they’re both Primaries for their clients, and it leads you to believe that perhaps all of their Primaries bear a resemblance to each other, so that any combination of fuck dolls could be considered a set. From this, you suspect that their clients may be into incestuous role play, or perhaps they like the idea of fucking someone’s “sibling”.

Not concrete evidence, but it’s not a far reach. You’ve seen plenty of stranger kinks.

You’ll have to ask Sascha about it on your next call with her, as you’re sure she’ll ask you more about what things your clients usually request of you. With one girl among seven men, she might presume that they enjoy gangbanging you.

She wouldn’t be wrong, of course.

Kink talk was a common pastime among your peers during your training. You all had been trained to analyze a person, what makes them tick, and how it’s related to their psyche. It had always fascinated you from an academic standpoint, even though some of your fellow trainees would prefer hearing about the dirtiest cases, regardless of the psychological factors that went into it.

“Is all going well? You feeling any better about all this?” Antione’s kind voice tears you out of your thoughts, and you give him a brief, grateful smile.

“I’m getting there,” you reply. “Thank you for all your help. It’s been… a lot to take in, and I’m glad that you recognized that, and helped me ease into it.”

“Not a problem. I’ve been in that position before, and it takes some adjusting, for sure,” he replies.

“That’s what she said.” Sascha snickers. “Alright, stop flirting, you two!” She shoves Antione offscreen, and the boy yelps at once again being pushed around. “Call me if you need me, babes! Have fun! Bye!”

Sascha reaches over and ends the call, and you’re once more on your own. But you don’t feel as isolated as before.

As long as you have your ComGear, you’ll never be alone again.

The thought makes you feel warm inside, though you scold yourself for being so sentimental. You need to recharge, or how did Sascha put it? Rejuvenate.

It doesn’t take long for you to find a decent music streaming app, though it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the buzzing as your clients keep messaging you. You realize that the notifications might interrupt your music once it starts playing, so you reluctantly open all their chat threads, only to mute them.

There. Now it won’t buzz anymore. They shouldn’t care if you left them on read. They want you to rest, right? You huff derisively and start searching the vast music library, trying to recall what you used to listen to back in the day to pump yourself up.

It dawns on you while you browse that you haven’t listened to any music for the past six months, apart from whatever the boys are rehearsing at any given time. The sound always reaches you whenever they practice, even if they’re rooms away. Though their songs aren’t too bad, they’re still not something you had chosen to listen to.

You hadn’t taken any time to be yourself, since you were so busy trying to be what they want from you.

You feel a vague sort of sadness when you think about it like that, imagining it happening to someone else, but you’re too subjective of the situation to really feel sad for yourself. You hadn’t take time for yourself, however you still climbed the ranks, earned their favor, became their only Primary. You’d achieved your goals.

But at what cost, asks a little voice in your head. What did you lose to win your dream job?

And are you even happy with it? Or is it just the satisfaction that you crave? The satisfaction that you would feel after achieving any other goal? The satisfaction of a job well done?

You shake your head. Whoa there. Too deep.

This is the most mental airspace you’ve had in forever, and it’s starting to show.

You don’t waste any more time trying to remember your old favorites, and instead tap on a “Hot 100 Hits” playlist. It’ll be interesting to see what people are listening to now. Maybe you’ll find some new favorites.

Sure enough, the first song that comes on is a pop rock tune, with a catchy beat and heavy drums. It makes you bob your head and you feel a surge of instant regret at not making more time for music. You’d forgotten how it can take you somewhere else, clear your mind and help you forget all your worries in a way that sex never can.

You’re a bit jarred when the lyrics kick in, though. They don’t rhyme at all, and they seem a little… stilted, like a robot is trying to sing. Damn, is this what kids are listening to these days? You knew that those singing hologram voice programs used to be a thing, but this seems almost unintentional.

You check the screen and sure enough, it’s a Korean title staring back up at you.

Your auditory auto-translation chip is changing the song into verbatim English.

You start to laugh. The unintended consequence strikes you as ridiculous. It seems that reminders of your job are everywhere.

With a sigh of exasperation, you head into the settings of your ComGear and access the language screen. You turn off the auditory auto-translation, and the song reverts back to the original lyrics, which are much easier on the ears.

Now that that’s taken care of, you turn the music on full blast and stand up.

Alright. Music, check. Now... how to leisure?

You look around and assess your room. It’s relatively tidy, and cleaning it won’t take more than ten minutes. You could work out, you have plenty of equipment. But that’s what you usually do on your days off. Improve yourself for work the next day.

What would Sascha say? Maybe… guilty pleasures? You put your mind to coming up with the most self-indulgent thing you can imagine.

Of course, you immediately think of chocolate.

But you’re not really hungry. To be honest, your stomach is still a little knotted up from the meeting.

Maybe not that kind of self-indulgence. You’ll just feel guilty afterwards. Maybe… maybe something pointless. Something that’s fun just for the sake of being fun.

You whirl around and take a long look at your bed as the music sweeps into the chorus.

Fuck, why not? Who’s going to stop you?

You climb onto the mattress and start jumping. You feel pretty silly at first, but the longer you jump, the lighter your worries feel. It’s as if you’re leaving them in the air with every bounce. The music blasts from your night table and you get a little bolder with your jumps, really putting power into them.

You’re lucky you have high ceilings, as you go higher and higher, you could swear you’re flying. You start to laugh, throwing some twirls into your leaps, and as the music blares, you sing along, off-key and with nonsensical phonetic lyrics.

Your cheeks hurt by the end of the song, and you’re out of breath, giggles falling from your lips as you finally jump down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

When was the last time you jumped on the bed like this? Must have been when you were young, with your sister.

You feel the same dull ache you always feel when you think of her, though you normally make it a point not to do so. The memory must have slipped past your defenses while you were enjoying yourself.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t hear the insistent pounding at your door, the music and thick walls muffling the sound. You had mistaken the noise for part of the lyrics, as they sounded like gibberish to you. But finally you noticed the person trying to get your attention, and you hurry over to the door as they continue to speak in tongues.

“Neo geogi an-e issni? Yah, mun-eul yeol-eola.”

You pull open the door and are met with the unreadable face of Min Yoongi.

“Gwaenchanh-a? Jeonhwaleul an bad-eusyeossneyo.” He continues to drawl in gibberish, and you merely stare at him, immensely confused.

It clicks for you a moment later, and you hold up a finger to him. “Um, hana… uh, shit, one sec.”

He gives you an equally confused look, and you hasten back to your ComGear to turn the auto-translate back on as well as pause the music. “There, that should do it.” You turn around to see him peering curiously at you.

“You were speaking English,” he says it halfway between a question and a statement. He must be used to hearing you speaking auto-translated Korean, just like you’re used to hearing his words in English.

“Yeah... I forgot to turn my translator back on.” You explain halfheartedly, your shields already locking back into their familiar place. It was a nice, if brief, moment of total freedom, just jumping around to music, but the carefree bubble has popped, and you're once more faced with reality.

Yoongi's eyebrow raises at the mention of the technology, but he merely shrugs a shoulder.

A few awkward moments of silence pass before you realize that he isn't going to explain himself on his own. Something about that, about the expectation for you to move things along, has your hackles raised in irritation.

Just like always, he's expecting you to do all the work.

"Did you need something?" You try to stay professional, even now, but you can't keep the edge out of your voice. All traces of your previous enjoyment have shriveled up and vanished in the face of the man who told your other clients that you were something replaceable.

He prods his cheek with his tongue, his face mask shifting from where it rests below his lips. "You weren't answering your phone," he says by way of an answer.

You stare at him, already growing weary of this interaction. Does he expect you to be as accessible as you were before? You don't plan on contacting any of them if you can help it, at least, not for right now.

Wait, did Namjoon tell them what happened? He must have. But if he didn't, then maybe that's why Yoongi is here. There’s no point in having any more misunderstandings; you have to make the situation clear.

"I'm suspended." Your voice grows quiet, and you look off into the hallway, shame coloring your cheeks. You know you shouldn't be, but you still feel a sting from vocalising your current demotion.

Yoongi gives a hum of affirmation, confirming that he already knew, as his eyes roam over your body. "Forbidden fruit..."

You tense, your body reacting involuntarily to his offhand comment as heat rushes to your core. Your most primal senses want him to give into the temptation and pin you against the wall... No, snap out of it. You’re still mad at him, no matter how attractive he may be.

But thankfully the moment of tension passes just as quickly, and his gaze returns to your face. "It’s a shame I already ate, unlike some people.” A flicker of humor in his eyes. “Here."

He hands you a paper bag, with a takeout logo on the front. You can't do anything but stare at it. It seems that your processors are still down for maintenance.

“You didn’t have breakfast.” Yoongi finally says, after it becomes clear you aren’t saying anything. “You’ve been up here since the meeting.”

It finally dawns on you, though the logical conclusion seems hard to believe. “You were… concerned about me?”

He tugs the face mask up over his mouth, concealing most of his expression. “Jungkook,” he corrects you with a slight cough. “He sent me up here. Poor kid was worried sick about you.”

You hesitate to take the food, even though your stomach is curling with hunger. Is this an attempted peace offering? Does he think this will make things better?

Before you can question his motives, he sighs and shoves the bag towards you. “Take it. You still have to eat, you know.”

You’re tired of fighting, and take the path of least resistance by accepting the bag. “Thanks,” you say, half-hoping that this will be the end of it and he’ll just leave. But the other half still holds the whimsical notion that he actually cared enough to check up on you.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shrugs again, looking off to the side.

You'd only ever known Min Yoongi as a salacious dom, stuffing you full and showering you in filthy praises. It feels surreal to be standing here now, holding a normal conversation.

After another moment, it becomes clear that his business here isn’t finished, and quite frankly, you’re getting impatient. “Is there anything else?”

At this, he seems to remember his reason for coming. “Ah, yeah. Can I come in?”

Into your room? You blink in dismay, the answer should be obvious to him. “No.”

You think you can see his mouth lift into a smile beneath the mask. “Good. That’s the spirit.” He gives a slight nod, as if appraising your disobedience.

You aren’t sure if this is normal behavior for him, as you’ve barely spoken to him out of character. You know probing him about it will only drag out this interaction, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “What… what are you talking about?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m just glad to see that you have some backbone. You’re usually so willing to follow orders.”

You bristle at this. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. It would have looked like a challenge if it had been more deliberate, but the way Yoongi carries himself is effortlessly casual and careless. "He gave you his key, right?"

It takes you a moment to discern that he’s talking about Namjoon. You nod once, and he scoffs.

"I knew he would. Poetic bastard." Yoongi sighs, then fixes his gaze to you once more. “That means I have to share my studio with him until all this is fixed.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance.

You aren’t sure how to reply, or if he’s even looking for one. If he wants an apology from you, he’s out of luck. Namjoon’s questionable decisions are not your fault.

But he doesn’t wait for any words from you, and instead turns around to go back downstairs. “Anyway, enjoy your break.”

“Wait.” You aren’t sure why you stop him. Maybe because he doesn’t seem like the type to bullshit you. “Min Yoongi.”

He pauses and looks over his shoulder at the sound of his name, an indiscernible expression in his eyes.

Your resolve turns to steel, using the last ounce of your strength to try and get some answers. “Tell me what’s going on. Why is he doing this?”

Yoongi glances up to the ceiling as though thinking of what to say.

His next words do not inspire confidence.

“I have no fucking idea.”

Your shoulders slump down a fraction. You aren’t sure you believe him, but it’s too much effort to hope for anything beyond his word. You can’t handle any more disappointment right now.

Yoongi scratches the side of his temple and gives a weary sigh. “If I could look inside his mind, then maybe I’d have a clue...” He stares at you intently, and his gaze trails down over your body again. You resist the urge to cover yourself, though now you realize you don’t have to resist. Your body doesn’t belong to him right now, and it won’t for the next several days.

Your arms cross themselves protectively over your chest, testing the waters of your newfound independence. “My eyes are up here, byeongsin.”

His eyes widen a fraction at your cheek. He tugs the face mask down below his chin again, a bewildered smile twitching onto his face, no doubt surprised to hear you cursing him out in Korean. “Who taught you that?”

“Taehyung.” You smirk, proud of yourself for catching him off guard for once. You remember when Tae had told you how surreal it sounded to hear you swearing in his language.

“Doesn’t it sound the same?” You ask him, confusion furrowing your brow. “The translator…”

Taehyung shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear and practically bouncing from excitement. “It sounds different! Like… like you have an accent,” he giggles. “Say it again.”

“Shibal.” You repeat the word hesitantly, the syllables feeling strange on your tongue. Mouth shapes for Korean are so different compared to English.

Taehyung bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching his sides as he rolls onto his back. You whack him with a couch cushion. “That’s not fair! You already know all the English profanities.”

Tae’s eyes dance with laughter as he sits back up. “All thanks to Namjoon-hyung. Shit, bastard, damn it to hell, and of course...” He sticks out his tongue, running it over his lips. “Fuck you.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach from the look he’s giving you. You snort and whack him with the pillow again. “Yup, you got all the highlights.”

His hand slides over your thigh. You meet his gaze, that flutter returning as you see the lust swirling like smoke in his pupils. “Jagiya...” His hand grazes farther up your thigh. “I want to fuck you.”

Things had obviously escalated after that, and you might have gotten lost in the memories if Yoongi hadn’t let out a low chuckle, bringing you back to the moment. “Wow. What else did he teach you?”

You grin, about to let loose a string of foul language, but he holds up a hand before you can, waving off whatever you’re about to say. “Nah, forget it. Leave it a surprise.”

“I’m full of them, you know.” You can’t help feeling a little proud.

“I know.” He stares at you for another moment before turning and heading downstairs. “Make sure to eat,” he calls over his shoulder, and soon enough his footsteps fade away.

A warm feeling fills your chest in his absence, and you can’t quite explain why. His last words prove that he must care about you a little, even if he doesn’t try to show it. The Yoongi you just spoke with feels like a completely different person than the one you overheard in the kitchen. Different even than the one at dinner, who suggested Seokjin should use another slut in your absence.

The memory taints the feeling of warmth, and you sigh. Why are things so fucking complicated?

You head back into your room and devour the takeout with less grace than would be expected for a seductress such as yourself, and mindlessly scroll through your ComGear, which is now more of a standard cellphone, exploring all the newly accessible features.

You’ve missed a lot of news, both locally and globally. Celebrity gossip. Politics. Entertainment.

Wait, whoa. What?

New Witness “B” Comes Forward About Sexual Manipulation in the K-Pop Industry

Sorry, what?

You click the article, your mind reeling with morbid fascination. Why would there still be any “manipulation” now that groups are given PhysComs? Why would they need any other sexual outlet, when they’re given vessels that are willing to serve?

  Our witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, has independently corroborated with Witness A’s story. “B” has told us that, like “A”, they weren’t given a choice when it came to filming private sessions with their clients.

  “[Group] told me that it was my job. That it was what I was there for. But they filmed me without my consent. They posted the videos online and made money from it. It’s not right. I got out, but there are still others like me who need help. It shouldn’t matter that sex work is against the law. What these people are doing, taking advantage of us… it should be just as illegal. We need a voice, too.”

  You may recall that Witness A’s shocking story from earlier this month sparked rumors about illegal sexual companions being provided to entertainment companies, a practice which up until now had been considered hearsay.

  However, with this new testimony, it seems that “A” may have had some truth to their story. We tried to contact [Group]’s agency, but they were unavailable for comment.

Holy shit… you had no idea any of this was happening. Thinking on it, it stands to reason that not every PhysCom is treated equally, given the vast multitude of people who have access to them. But where are these PhysComs’ handlers? Why aren’t their networks helping them?

You find polarizing comments beneath the article, most angry that the companies would allow the sex work to take place, very few praising B’s decision to speak out, and some disbelieving that PhysComs even exist. There are also a few very lengthy comments that catch your eye, demonizing the witnesses and making threats towards other companies, should the commenter’s “oppas” be caught in this scandal, too.

You feel uneasy as you click away from the article. The rest of the takeout is put away in your mini fridge, your appetite gone as you try to make sense of things.

That article gives you the feeling that something is happening, not just here in this house, but in the world. Like floating pieces of a magnetic puzzle, you know they’ll all come together somehow, eventually, but you still can’t see the big picture.

You send the article to the group chat, and they confirm that they’ve seen it.

[ PCsv02_svt  ]: scary, right? TT-TT [ PCsv02_svt  ]: I don’t know what I’d do if I were them, poor thing [ PCsv03_twc ]: they should’ve gone to the police [ PCsv04_blp  ]: why did they wait until now to come forward? [ PCsv03_twc ]: if my clients ever treated me badly I would have done something [ PCsv09_$px ]: it’s not always that simple [ PCsv01_svt  ]: yes consider the repercussions… [ PCsv01_svt  ]: an illegal sex worker reporting nonconsensual sex? [ PCsv01_svt  ]: that’s like a robber reporting another robbery

You mull over this as you let them debate the topic. You imagine what it must be like to be in that position, taken advantage of by your clients… you shiver at the cold injustice of it.

There is a certain degree of trust that's employed in any kind of sex work. You're still offering intimacy in some form, which can't be fully given without trust. It must be utterly horrific to see that trust broken and be unable to stop it.

You want to help these people somehow, but right now you need to help yourself. One sea of turmoil at a time.

You click out of the chat and switch to each conversation with your clients, copy and pasting the same message to each of them.

Please don't contact me for the rest of the day. I need time alone.

Since you're suspended, you figure they can't punish you for making yourself unavailable. Though it pains you to think of them relying on the other PhysComs at their disposal. Seokjin already has. You forcibly push away the thoughts every time they bounce against your mind.

With the boys out of the way, you assess your options. You need more information about what the hell is happening, and the most likely place you'll find it is obvious. What did Yoongi say? If he could look inside Namjoon's mind… then he'd have an idea.

You happen to have the key to his mind right in your belt.

-------

It's surprisingly difficult to sneak out of the house without alerting anyone. You left your door locked and music blaring. Between that and the text you sent, you thought leaving from your window would be a piece of cake.

You neglected to account for the height.

Your room is on the third story, too far to jump without damaging yourself. Thankfully, you've seen enough movies to have the idea of fashioning a rope out of extra bed sheets. Unfortunately, bed sheets are not the best rope material. Too slippery.

You mull over what to do for a few moments, and you laugh out loud when you realize that the solution is absurdly simple. Hello? You have literal ropes in among your sex toys. Even better, they're designed not to give the user rope burn, while still knotting like a dream.

It doesn't take long to shimmy down from your window to ground level, and you stash the end of the rope behind some bushes, planning to use it later to return to your forbidden tower.

Disguised in a hoodie, you feel like a spy in an action movie, or a runaway princess, and the thought makes you giggle as you make your way towards the nearest subway station.

It's been too long since you've ventured out of the house. You had nearly forgotten how invigorating the bustle of the city could be. You feel like you’re breathing fresh air for the first time in ages, though the pollution in the distant sky would say otherwise.

It only takes a quick search on your jailbroken ComGear to find the address of the building where Namjoon's studio is located. BigHit Entertainment.

You'll have to be careful not to encounter the others. They probably frequent their record label, and the last thing you need is to bump into one of them. You would have no explanation for yourself as to why you're here. You'd rather avoid the questions.

Unfortunately, it proves harder than you’d think to get into the building. A fingerprint ID scanner meets you just inside the auxiliary door.

Fuck. It’s too much to hope that they have your prints in their database, right? You place your thumb over the scanner, and it buzzes, the sensor light turning red. No go.

Well shit, what are you supposed to do now? You’ve come all this way, and you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Namjoon’s stupid key.

Wait, why the hell did he give you the key if he knew you couldn’t get into the building? Bastard. You groan and kick at the base of the door. You try your prints again, but none of your fingers grant you access, the scanner buzzing mockingly with each failed attempt.

You’re about to give up when you hear a voice behind you. “Here, let me.”

You swivel around and see Jeon Jungkook place his thumb on the scanner, a to-go cup in his hand and a duffle bag on his shoulder. The light turns green and the door whooshes aside to let him in. The lift in his brows tells you he recognizes you through your flimsy disguise, but he merely gestures for you to go ahead. You sheepishly walk through, knowing better than to question this stroke of good fortune.

Or bad fortune, as it turns out.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook asks quietly, once you two are inside the sleek lobby. "You said you wanted to be left alone."

"I did," you confirm huffily, still embarrassed about your struggle to get inside the building. "I do."

"Then... why are you here?" He takes a look around the lobby, where a handful of people are milling about. “It’s not really a good place for being alone.”

You chew your lip. This is the most Jungkook has ever spoken to you. You consider coming up with a story, but it occurs to you that you don't actually know where Namjoon's studio is located inside the building. You’ll need a guide.

"Namjoon said I could use his studio," you explain, deciding to include as few details as possible about your reasons for being here.

"For what?" His brow furrows.

Why all the questions? You’ve always thought of Jungkook as timid, more the type to stay out of the way if someone is up to something, rather than grilling them. But for all you know, maybe he gets assertive in the workplace. It doesn’t matter. You have bigger concerns right now. "To release my first single, obviously,” you snark, crossing your arms. "Look, I’m here for research, okay? You can either help me, or stay out of my way."

His eyes widen. He's never heard you speak to him as yourself, let alone this brazenly. But to your surprise, he nods. “Okay. What can I do to help?”

Well, damn. You didn’t think he would actually agree. It could be that he wants to report what you do to the other boys, acting like a spy. But you’re only here because Namjoon gave you that key. He can’t fault you for using the collateral that he gave you, right?

Fuck it, you’re tired of second guessing. Now is the time for action. Fuck the consequences.

“Where’s Namjoon’s studio?” You ask him, an edge in your voice. “Show me.”

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment, and then nods. He looks wary, almost nervous, and you have to wonder why. Even with your confidant demands, he still has the power in this situation, as always. You’re a nobody who couldn’t even get in the door without his help, and he actually works here. He could have you thrown out, if he wanted.

The thought sends a bolt of worry right to your chest, and you decide to do everything you can to not remind him of that fact.

After a strangely tense elevator ride, Jungkook silently leads you down several corridors until you come across a frosted glass door.

“Here,” he says, gesturing towards the door.

“This is it?” You ask to confirm, and he nods.

You take a deep breath and retrieve the key from your belt. His eyes widen as you slot the key into the lock, and with a gentle twist, the handle turns.

“Where-” Jungkook’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and you turn around to shush him.

“It was a gift,” you explain icily. “Now, if you’re going to help me, then stay right here and make sure no one comes in, got it?”

His lips purse in suspicion and his eyes narrow, but he nods. “Fine.”

Satisfied, you turn back to the door, and it’s only then that you notice the keypad beneath the lock. Clearly the silver key Namjoon gave you isn’t the only way into his studio, as he had previously implied. Some collateral.

More and more doubts fill your thoughts, but you have no energy left to hesitate as you carefully pull the door open and slip inside their leader’s forbidden sanctuary.

-------

It’s much smaller than you thought. Really, only the size of your walk-in closet.

The silence in the room is palpable, the only noise stemming from the gentle purr of electronics. Your gaze gets stuck on all the collectibles he has on display, all around the room, in glass cases and on shelves. Mickey Mouse bodies, with skulls and crossbones for heads. Everything is black, white, and shades of gray.

They make up the only distraction in the room, but they’re everywhere.

You then notice the only clear surface, or relatively clear, as his desk, opposite the door. A grand computer screen sits front and center, with various equipment stacked around it, and a piano keyboard on a tray beneath the glass desktop.

You hasten across the carpeting, and gingerly pull out his desk chair, plush leather with a high back, ergonomically designed.

It feels like a siren will go off at any moment. You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re intruding.

But you need answers. He gave you the key.

You shake off your sense of foreboding and sit down, swiveling yourself into place. A quick shake of the mouse wakes up his computer.

Fuck.

You need a password. Of course. Nothing in your life can be simple.

After a few moments of muttering and seething in frustration, you try to calm down. Okay, so maybe this won’t be an in and out procedure, maybe this will take a little more thought.

Okay, think, think… what would he use for his password?

“It’s ‘monimoni0613’.”

The voice scares you shitless, and you swivel around to see Jungkook poking his head in the door. He gives you a half smile. “And that’s in Korean. You want help?”

You clutch your chest. “Fuck, don’t scare me like that!” You snap at him, though he doesn’t seem particularly intimidated. How does Namjoon even work with his back to the door like this? You’d be constantly looking over your shoulder. Is he really that trusting of people?

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your answer and comes inside, letting the door fall gently shut behind him. “It’s after his dog,” he says, leaning over you to access the keyboard and quickly type in the password. He smells like shampoo.

Your heart picks up the pace as he hovers over you, his eyes trained on the screen. He’s only inches away from you, his necklace dangles in front of your face in a way that you should not find tantalizing.

“His dog’s name is Moni?” You ask, trying to tell your heart to kindly get a grip. You’re on a mission, no time for horniness.

“Well, ah… yeah. Let’s go with that.” Jungkook makes a slight noise of triumph as the computer unlocks, Namjoon's desktop wallpaper greeting you - yet another skull-headed Mickey.

"Wait, how do you know his password?" You can't help but ask. After the ordeal you went through just to get to his inner sanctum, this feels too easy.

"He lets me use his computer sometimes, for gaming, and stuff…" the boy trails off, looking elsewhere as though embarrassed.

"Okay…" You stare at him. "Thanks for helping."

"You're welcome."

There's an awkward silence.

"Go wait outside." You say.

"Yup." He ducks back out of the room, leaving you to your investigating once more.

You exhale once you're alone again. Okay, where to start? You scan his desktop, but the icons are surprisingly neat. A few programs, a few shortcuts, a few folders, all of which prove fruitless.

The folders contain music program files of what appear to be songs still in the works. Although interesting, not really what you're looking for.

Jesus, how could he trust you with all this? You could leak these to the public. You could sell them, and never have to worry about job security again...

He must be fucking desperate to put his entire career in your hands.

Just like your career currently rests in his own.

You shake off the idea of selling the insider information. Although tempting, right now all you really want is answers as to why the fuck he's doing any of this in the first place. Why did he suspend you? Why did things stop? You had a spotless record up until last night, so… what changed?

You check his recent files next, and happen to find exactly what you're looking for.

Theory - draft for proposal

Seems like a solid lead.

You click the link, and a word document opens up. Unfortunately in Korean.

Of course. Of course he would write in his native language, and of course, it’s only your ComGear that translates messages from the boys, you don’t have bionic vision. There are a few random English words scattered here and there, but not nearly enough to make heads or tails of what the document is about. You could use an online translator, but you need a full understanding of this material, there’s no room for error here.

Should you ask Jungkook? No, you should not. He seems innocent enough, but your sense of self-preservation now overrides any trust you might have once given him. You bite back a groan of frustration and instead mutter a few choice expletives through a heavy, weary sigh.

Then you get an idea.

If your ComGear is what usually does your translating, why not just send this there?

You fumble to highlight the document, then copy it and head over to Namjoon’s email. Yikes. Lots and lots of unread. Well, you can’t blame him with his hectic schedule. You skip over a couple of emails at the top that appear to be from law firms, and instead click to compose a new message.

Fuck, this will leave a trail, won’t it? If he checks his sent emails, he’ll see that you saw… whatever this turns out to be.

It doesn’t matter. He gave you access to this room. He knew the potential consequences.

You paste the body of the document, type in your email address and hit send. Not moments later, there’s a chime on your ComGear, and sure enough, an email has arrived. You don’t get much correspondence these days, apart from your network. Well, your old network. Now your phone constantly has notifications from the chatroom. It feels strangely comforting.

Without another moment’s hesitation, you tap the email and anxiously wait for it to load, praying that the automatic translation feature doesn’t fail you now.

Soon, the English text appears, and your worries are put to rest within the first line.

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs.

[petri808]

Underneath the Same Starry Sky

My piece for the @fairytailcharityfanzine 💜 we can now share it, please enjoy!

Nalu Reflective piece that takes place during the one year hiatus, focusing on Natsu’s feeling during his training, and Lucy.

Every single muscle in Natsu’s body ached worse than being electrocuted by one of Laxus’ lightning bolts.  His joints screamed like a banshee if he even thought about moving an inch for the rest of the night and he prayed that come morning’s light he could get up to do it all again.  The training routine he’d carved out for himself was ten times harder than anything he’d ever attempted before, but it’s a necessary evil and one that numbed his mind to the reasons behind its mission.  Tartaros was a wake-up call.  A proverbial slap to the ego that brought the mighty Fairytail guild to its knees.  Sure, they won the battle, but at a substantial cost.

He couldn’t afford to lose like that again.  Not when there were so many things at stake.

But tonight, there’s nothing more he can do except lie on his bedroll staring up at the sky.  If someone attacked him now in such a vulnerable state, they might win.  He doubted it.  Even the locals steered clear of the mountain he’d chosen.  Too afraid of the rumors of a crazy fire wielding man who could shake the very bedrock beneath their feet.  No, tonight it’s just him, Happy, and that sky.  A beautiful expanse of darkened heavens with no clouds to dampen its effects.

Ugh!  Nights like this were the hardest.  Each time he opened his eyes and gazed upon those twinkling stars his partner would drift into his mind and throw it back into chaos.  Lucy…. The golden queen who reigns over the celestial world, adored by her spirits, loved by her friends, and treasured by his truly.  

Everything he did was to protect the ones he loved.  And above all, her.

Just thinking about the attractive blonde sent a strange flutter through his core.  Natsu wasn’t immune to the desires created in any hot-blooded male when seeing such an attractive female.  But she’s different, special, not something treated like arm-candy or tied down by anyone unless of her own choosing.  Besides, he didn’t feel worthy of her attention.  Not yet.  Maybe one day, but not until he could truly safeguard her future, even from his own demons.  Besides, there’s still much to do.  It’s only his second month and already the drain on his mind, body, and soul pushed him to his limits.  But Natsu’s no quitter.  Once he set his heart on something, he would move all of Earthland to see it through.  Things would get easier over time as his body adapts to the training, so until then, no pain, no gain, and a blonde waiting at the end of this goal.

‘I really wish you were here Igneel…. Too many questions I never got the answer to….  Even new ones on things I don’t quite know what to do with.’  Natsu lets out an audible exhale.  ‘I miss you….  It’s like a huge part of me’s gone and I know I’ll never get it back.  Will that empty feeling ever go away?’  His eyes close for a moment as he remembers the pain of watching the fight between Igneel and Acnologia.  He’d held out so much hope that Igneel would win, only to have that faith dashed against the rocks like a ship, wrecking along the shore.  It was at that point, when Natsu felt like the small child again, alone and lost in the forest before Makarov had found and taken him to Fairytail.  He’d promised Igneel to keep growing, to keep looking towards the future, and he will.  He will get stronger!  But such pain and sense of initial loss from his childhood had never fully gone away, just sidetracked once he’d met Lucy.  

Again, with Lucy.  That day in Hargeon was the last time Natsu’d gone off on his own in search of Igneel.  Was that meaningful?  It had to be.  How else could one person, who he’d just met, unconsciously change his course in life if it didn’t have some major significance?  What would Igneel have said about her?  ‘Who am I kidding, he would love Lucy!  I bet he would tease me about her if he were here….  I know she would have liked him too….’  She would never be a replacement for his adoptive dragon father, but… ‘Lucy fills some void.’  A concept he couldn’t deny any longer.  

This training mission was the longest they’d been apart since, well, the day they met.  It’s a little weird, Natsu would admit, and he missed her along with all of his friends.  He wondered what they’re up to.  Are they rebuilding the guild hall right now?  Probably to be even bigger or better than before.  ‘Yeah…. It’s gonna be so nice to see it again!’  He should have stayed to help them rebuild, but this is more important.  ‘So, we don’t lose the next time!’  Did Gray miss their fighting, because he kind of did.  He loved to rile that ice queen up!  ‘I’m sure they’re all doing fine.’

But to take the power left to him by Igneel, he needed to strengthen his reserves and that took time.  He really didn’t understand how long he would be away for.  It could be months or even years; hopefully not the latter.  Mastering this new secret art is his primary focus and he couldn’t go back until he’d attained it.  It was his hidden weapon against his brother and it just needed to be perfect.  

Long blistering days had turned into weeks.  Laborious weeks dragged into months and as each one passed the physical pain had morphed into an emotional toll.  Now five months into his training, Natsu sometimes lost track of time itself, and it was only with Happy’s help that he knew how long he’d been at this.  The cheerleading Exceed made sure they had food or other provisions because the slayer would forget.  Even his hair was now past his shoulder blades, but he tied it back when it got in his way.  

Though it wasn’t all that bad, he’d made a lot of progress and was sure that it wouldn’t be too much longer till he could return home.  So, after another long day and a meal of roasted wild bird, Natsu submerges himself up to his neck in a nearby hot pond.  It was one of the few reasons he’d chosen this semi-isolated location.  The broiling waters were a bit too hot for any normal humans, but for a fire dragon slayer, something perfectly suited to soothe away his aches, and maybe some of his anguish.  Lately a few of Zeref’s parting words, “to kill or let live,” were toying with his mind.  “The one to reach me will be you or END…”  He still didn’t fully understand it.  Igneel also told him not to look at the END book.  But why not?  Who is this END person?!  “And what the hell did Zeref mean by passing to me, an even greater despair?!”  Regardless of not understanding, the message was clear.  Trouble was coming.

The steaming waters were making him sleepy, but he wasn’t ready to let it take him yet.  He just need to hash out these thoughts so he could move on because if he couldn’t, then he wouldn’t be able to focus on his training.  To concentrate the residual power, he needed a clear mind.  A long exhale escapes and Natsu closes his eyes.  Killing wasn’t the Fairytail way, so that wasn’t something Natsu even wanted to consider.  There had to be another solution, but it was difficult to figure out what that could be since he didn’t even know who or what this enemy was.  From the scant information they’d given him, END was the most powerful demon Zeref had ever created, one that not even Igneel could defeat.  That meant END could be his most formidable opponent to date, aside from maybe Acnologia.  

Acnologia…  all the hairs along his arm tingle.  The evil dragon born of a by-gone slayer era, is another problem that needed solving.  How were they supposed to defeat a dragon that other dragons were afraid of?  He remembered the quaking fear that all the slayers and dragons felt when Acnologia showed up.  Everyone’s panic and trembling emotions were palpable.  That vile creature had disappeared once more, but he’ll no doubt, show up at the worst time.  “Argh!”  Another beautiful part of being in the middle of nowhere, Natsu could scream all he wanted to.  He relaxes his eyelids, letting the feeling of the steam envelop his senses.  

Words unspoken passed between them as he hung his head whilst the tears flowed, and snot dripped.  Lucy held on tight, her arms wrapped around his middle, her face buried in the crook of his back like she’d done the night they’d defeated future Rogue.  Despite his promises to Igneel, Natsu’s heart had shattered and needed to fit back together like a jigsaw puzzle.  He was thankful that Lucy didn’t prod, just allowed him to feel, to process, like she just knew he would come out of this.  Her silent support meant so much to him, and she didn’t even know it.  

“Can we just go home?” he whispers under his breath.  “I’m tired.”

Lucy nods and moves to let go, but Natsu places his hand on her arm.  “To your apartment, just for tonight?  I’d… rather not be alone right now.”

“Sure, Natsu.”  

It was one of the rare occasions that Lucy didn’t kick him out of bed.  Maybe she was too tired.  After a shower, Natsu crawls under the covers.  Her calming scent of strawberry cream providing him some satisfaction, a reassurance that he wasn’t alone, and reminded him he still had a lot to live for.  And as his eyes close, the vision of her sleeping form, so peaceful, sends him off into a dreamless, yet fitful slumber.  

When light filtered through his closed lids the following morning, Natsu opens them to a fully awakened mind despite the pitiful amount of sleep he’d gained.  Through the night, Lucy had latched onto his side, keeping him pinned to his back.  She sighs, mumbling at his minute movements, before licking her lips and drifting away again clutched to his arm.  He exhales, turning to his side to gaze upon her better.  ‘Lucy…’ Natsu sweeps away some tendrils that had fallen over her eyes.  ‘How am I to protect her when I couldn’t even save my father?  How can I protect any of my friends from the dangers coming call?’  It wasn’t a matter of if he could, but a must.  He places a kiss upon her slightly furrowed brow.  ‘I promise you Lucy.  I swear on Igneel I will protect you at any cost!’      

Even though he’d decided that morning to leave on a training quest, he just couldn’t tell her, not in person knowing the pain it might stir back up for both of them.  All he could hope for a week later when he clutched the letter in his hand, that she would understand.  “Wait for me,” he whispers as he places the letter on her coffee table…    

Natsu opens his eyes.  Ugh, why was he dreaming about that now?  He twists his body in the steaming waters to rest his head on his arms on the edge.  How long had he fallen asleep for?  Couldn’t have been long since the position of the moon had only shifted slightly.  Maybe he was feeling a little guilty for leaving that letter the way he had.  It was a copout.  ‘Yeah…’ he sighs, ‘she deserved better from me, but I just couldn’t face her.’  Too late now to do anything about it.

It was almost over; he runs his hand over the new tattoo on his arm, reminiscing about the last 8 months.  All the power condensed in his body thrummed like a child excited to play with their new toy.  But it would have to wait and lay dormant for now.  Until the time was right, behind the symbols it shall remain.  This whole journey was one of self-recovery, through down-right struggles of the heart and mind.  So, unleashing the full power of the Fire Dragon King too early would be a waste of all that he’d fought to attain.  And that was okay, for through this self-discovery Natsu had become a lot stronger.  The control over his element was down to pinpoint accuracy, and whether as a stream of fire or as a conflagration, it was all by his manipulation.  He was giddy about showing this off and according to Happy, the perfect opportunity was coming up in just two months.  All the more reason for him to buckle down and finish his training.          

Lucy had hoped some of her friends would attend the games, even just to watch but no one did.  It was sad to think, ‘I’ve been looking this entire year…’ she breaks down against the wall filled with all the information she’d dug up on her ex-guildmates.  She knew where some were, while others…  Sigh, ‘Still nothing on Natsu.’  There’d been wild rumors that could be him.  Nothing concrete and they were always stories passed along from a friend of a friend.  But it was enough to comfort her sometimes, to know they were still under the same starry skies.  Ugh!  Lucy missed them all so much.  “Well, no point in crying about it tonight,” she laments to Plue.  Tomorrow was the finals, and she needed her sleep.  Lucy steals away to her bed and lets happier dreams bring her solace.            

Ten grueling months has passed by, but they’d made it!  The sun had yet to rise, but the pair arrived just in time to see the last day of the Grand Magic Games tournament.  Natsu turns his nose to the wind, scenting from atop a hill overlooking the large city of Crocus. “Happy, I think Lucy is here!”  

“But, why would she be here?” the Exceed queries.  “Could she be here for the games?”

“Probably.  We should look for her as soon as we can!”

“I thought you’re gonna challenge the winners?”

“Oh right,” Natsu smirks, “Imma go kick their asses and you look for her.”

“Aye sir!!”  

Morning’s light came and Lucy already knew it wouldn’t be very exciting.  The games only stirred up more pain from the loss of her friends and Fairytail, so it took a lot of self-motivation just to care.  Sure, there were exciting moments during the tournament but nothing like the year they won.  All the big guilds, their friends, no one took part this year saying it wasn’t worth it without Fairytail to compete against.  Lucy couldn’t blame them.  She takes one last longing glance at her wall and heads out the door.

‘Such a farce…’ Lucy stood there in the press box bored out of her mind.  Sure, Jason was excited after she’d pointed out Scarmiglione’s plan not only to win but to rake it in with the brokers.  Odds of 100 to 1 would pay out handsomely for anyone that bet on their win.  To her it was cheating and a blight on the games.  But no one had even noticed what they were doing.  Sad.  Then again, with none of the more powerful guilds in attendance, she guessed there wasn’t anyone around who could sense their true power levels except for her.  Surprise, surprise, she rolls eyes.  The crowds all jump to their feet when Scarmiglione’s last opponent falls, but Lucy is just happy it’s over.

But what’s this?  A rumbling murmur filters through the crowds.  She and Jason look over and see a heavily cloaked man walking into the arena.  Who is that?  What is this?!  So much power!  The hairs on her neck stand on edge.  “Evacuate the arena….” She cries out, but…  “Eh!”  The power and heat radiating off of the figure is burning her top off!  “Kiyah!”  Her arms frantically wrap around her bust, forgetting all about the danger.  As the smoke clears enough to see, she sees the culprit.  Her eyes widen.  “Natsu?!!!”

Screams of his name bounce around her.  Everyone is excited to see the slayer!

“Long time no see, Lucy!!!”

She turns around to see the flying Exceed.  “Happy?!!  What are you doing here?”

The other participants rush out to challenge Natsu but when his power and heat spikes even higher, they turn tail and run, screaming monster.  How hot does his power get?!  This was a lot stronger than she remembered him to be!  

The Exceed chuckles, “Natsu always tends to overdo things.”

But by then Lucy had stopped paying attention to the chaos going on around her.  The stadium was melting, members of Scarmiglione were out cold on the arena floor.  And all she could do was stare at the man she’d been wanting to see for so long.  It was really him and not a figment of her imagination!  A deluge of emotions floods her mind so quickly that there is no processing any of it.  Happiness, sadness, anger, nothing.  It was simply, in shock.  

With the rest of the challengers running in fear, Natsu finally realizes something.  He looks up and they lock eyes for a moment.  So fired up from his entrance, he’d almost forgotten she was here.  

“Yo!” his grin so wide it covers from ear to ear.  “Been a while, huh?  Lucy!”

Same old Natsu, she sighs, what had she expected?  With a crinkle of her eyes and a softening of her expression.  “How’ve you been?”