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beautifulblhell · 3 years

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Something Better To Do

Mafia! Suna x F! Reader

A/N: So this is for @nkogneatho‘s FMFM collab! Thank you for letting me participate and I’m so sorry for the late posting!! My procrastinating ass couldn’t do it in June and when July came life hit me like truck-kun 😭 Typed this with one brain cell as the heat has melted my rest and not proofread, so if there’s any mistakes please let me know!! (Or just pretend you didn’t see it T_T) Not super proud of this, but lately my creativity has been 📉

Tags: smut, fluff, mafia! Suna but nothing dark, all characters are 18+, protection (be responsible) smut is at the bottom part if you are only interested in the smut lol

WC: 3177

The day had started off so well. Your parents had to leave for an abrupt business meeting abroad and left at the crack of dawn. Usually you would meet up with Suna whenever your parents were away, but he has been away for ‘work’ for the past few weeks.

You knew it was for something important for the Inarizaki gang, and Atsumu had been tasked to go on this trip. But he had an argument with Osamu a few days prior, and with the latter refusing to cook for him, Atsumu gave himself food poisoning when he tried to cook for himself.

So Kita had told Suna to attend instead.

Your finger hovered above the messaging app, wondering if you should text him. The last message he had sent was from a week ago. With a sigh, you decided not to disturb him and closed your phone.

Still, this was the longest you had been without seeing Suna.

As if your daydreams blended into reality, you heard the familiar purr of a motorcycle. At first you thought you were dreaming. However, when you looked down from your bedroom window, you saw Suna coming to a stop below your window, the morning sunlight reflecting off his motorcycle. He lifted off his helmet, and those yellow eyes raised up to meet yours, his lips curved up lazily when he caught sight of you.

He was already standing at your doorway when you opened the front door and flew into his arms.

“Rin!” You cried happily.

His name has hardly left your lips when his mouth descended upon yours. He cupped your face and pulled you towards him, your lips repeatedly met together, making up for lost time. It was only when you felt Suna’s lip against yours did you realise how much you missed him. Your head was spinning when you finally pulled apart. The comforting scent of the cologne he wore and a hint of cigarette enveloped you.

It’s been too long, you thought, looking up at his face.

One of his thumb wiped across your glistening lips.

“Somebody missed me,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming back?”

“Thought I would surprise you.”

“Well, you certainly did.” That’s when you realised.

“How did you know my parents weren’t home?” You asked in surprise. Suna never came to your house unless your parents weren’t home, and you usually told him beforehand.

The image of your parents’ initial shock was still fresh in your mind when you broke the news about you and Suna being together, which morphed into disapproval then anger when you said you won’t break it off with him when they told you.

“But he’s part of Inarizaki, the yakuza!” Your mother had said in horror. She would have been less shocked if you told her Suna smuggled pandas for a living.

It would be easier if you moved out of your house, but Suna knew how much your parents meant to you even if they didn’t approve of your relationship, so you would meet up in town whenever both of you were both free or when your parents were away.

“Hmm,” Suna only hummed as his arms encircled your waist and he nuzzled your hair, but you caught a faint glint in those narrow eyes of his.

With a sigh, Suna relaxed his whole body, and you stumbled at the sudden weight you had to bear.

“R-Rin, you are heavy!”

He leaned into your ears and whispered, “You didn’t say that last time I had you under me.”

“Rin!”

He sniggered seeing your red face, and stood back upright.

“Get dressed. I don’t want that nosy neighbour of yours to notice that I’m here and tell your parents once they are back.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, pulling your arms back unwillingly.

Sensing your reluctance to let him go, Suna’s lips brushed against your forehead.

“You’ll see.”

“Are we going to your place?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around his waist behind him on the motorcycle.

“Is that what you want?” Suna flashed you a teasing smirk.

You felt heat build up on your cheeks, and you buried your face behind his back.

“I don’t mean that! Just thought we could watch a movie or do something relaxing since you just came back.”

Suna did look a bit tired. And the smell of cigarettes has been stronger than usual. It was a habit of his, he tended to smoke more when he was irritated or stressed.

“If you continue to be so cute I’ll really take you to my place right now.”

“Nope, take me where you wanted to.”

“Later then,” You could hear the laughter in his words.

Then, with a twist of his wrist, the throttle thrusted the machine forward.

It was always exhilarating sitting on the back of Suna’s motorcycle. He drove fast yet with precision. Instead of driving, the term flying would be more accurate to describe what you were feeling. The familiar scenery of the city blew past as Suna expertly maneuvered between the traffic without slowing down. It was only when he started slowing down did you realize where you were going.

It was a few months ago when you made a passing remark of wanting to go to the aquarium when they finished building the underwater tunnel.

It was one of the things you love about Suna. Sometimes you would make a casual remark about a certain place that you were interested in going to, but Suna would always remember and take you there whenever he had the chance.

As you arrived closer, you noticed the long queue extending from the entrance. It didn’t come as a surprise seeing it was the opening weekend, but you were worried about how long you had to wait.

Instead, Suna simply sped past them and came to a stop at the back staff entrance.

A man in a suit and name badge stood next to a door that said ‘STAFF ONLY’. He had an anxious look on his face, which only deepened when he saw Suna.

“Ah, S-Suna-san, I’ve been waiting for your arrival.” He smiled, sweat running down his face. “I’m the manager, very pleased to make your acquaintance.” He bowed deeply, to which Suna only replied with a curt nod after he got off the motorcycle.

“This way, please.” He gestured towards the back of the entrance.

You turned towards Suna as you walked behind the manager.

“He looks so scared of you. What did you do, hold his whole family ransom?” You whispered, your eyebrows raised.

“No, I told him that I would let Atsumu cook for him for a week if he doesn’t let us into the aquarium.”

You choked back a laugh, trying to hide it since the manager turned around to hold the door open for you.

You had just stepped into the aquarium when Suna’s phone rang.

Suna took out his phone. With one look at the name displayed on the phone screen the decline button silenced the noise. Yet within half a second his phone rang again.

“Just ignore it,” Suna muttered, and turned his phone on silent.

As if knowing the calls will be ignored, your phone chimed.

Sender: Atsumu

‘TELL HIM TO PICK UP THE PHONE!!’

Then

‘I KNOW HE IS WITH YOU’

“Shouldn’t you pick up the phone, in case it’s something important?”

With a look of resignation on his face, Suna picked up his phone. Even with the phone next to his ears, you could hear Atsumu’s excited voice on the other end.

Suna’s eyes flickered to you, and from the look of his face, you knew your date was going to end before it even started.

“Fine, but I’m bringing her with me.”

After he hung up his phone, Suna turned to you with a look of exasperation.

“Atsumu. He said it was an emergency.”

“Oh,” you could feel your heart sinking.

“I told him that you are coming with me, so afterwards we can head back here.”

“Can I?” Your eyes lit up. Suna had taken you with him to a few informal gatherings before

“Doubt it’s anything of importance, seeing who was calling,” Suna muttered.

He glanced at the manager. “We’ll be back later.”

“Ah, that’s absolutely fine, sir,” the man bowed, and you can’t help but feel he was relieved to see the back of Suna.

By the time both of you arrived at the private VIP room in one of Inarizaki's nightclubs, all of the top members have already assembled on the sofa in the middle of the room.

Atsumu had greeted you both enthusiastically when you first entered.

And unfortunately for both of you, his enthusiasm didn’t abate one bit. An hour and a half later, you were still sitting at the back of the room, with the prospect of listening to Atsumu’s voice for the rest of the day hanging gloomingly in front of you.

You looked up at your boyfriend on the sofa, the only one sitting facing you. Thin wisps of smoke rose from the cigarette dangling between his lips. He made a non-committal ‘mmh’ whenever Atsumu’s words seemed to be directed at him, but from the look on his face you knew he was hardly listening.

By now, even Osamu was heaving a sigh at Atsumu.

“Samu, what are ya sighin’ for?!”

“Just wonderin’ how that single brain cell of yours could work for so long without overheatin’.”

“Hah?! At least I got one unlike yer-”

“Osamu.” Kita’s quiet voice was enough to bring an end to the twins bickering in an instant. He nodded at Atsumu to continue, and no one dared to say anything seeing that Kita wanted Atsumu to speak.

You stared in boredom at the sudoku puzzle on your screen, wondering if you threw your phone at Atsumu’s head it would solve the puzzle. You finally get to see Suna yet the precious time you had together was ticking away, wasted here.

That’s when the idea entered your head.

You raised your arm slightly, trying to catch Suna’s attention. He glanced at you questionly.

With a teasing smile on your face, you placed a finger on your lips. Then, you ran your finger down, until you came to a stop at the button of your blouse.

Slowly, you opened it.

Suna’s eyes widened and he froze. It was rare to catch him off guard, and you suppressed a giggle. Holding his gaze, the next button fell open. His eyes darkened instantly as he realised what you were doing.

In the dim light of the room, a sharp light has entered Suna’s eyes. He leaned back, his eyes narrow, as if daring you to see how far you could go.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. If any of the men turned slightly, they would be able to see you. But seeing the burning lust swirling in Suna’s eyes, the way his sharp gaze raked down your body, as if stripping you even more bare, it was more than enough to heat you up and fuel you on.

Biting onto the collar of your blouse, you lifted your bra up.

If only you knew what you were doing to Suna. It took everything he could not just to take you there and then.

Every muscle in his body was tense. He took his cigarette and mouthed the word ‘bathroom’.

With a small smile on your face, you left the room.

The moment he walked into the bathroom, his mouth crushed against yours. One of his hands held the back of your head, and his other arm slammed on the partition of the toilet stall near your head, trapping you with nowhere to go. His hips were pushed against yours, and you could feel the hard bulge throbbing against you. The kiss was hard, furious. The taste of cigarette entered your mouth when his tongue slipped inside, exploring your mouth, twisting around yours. By the time he let you up, both of you were gasping, the sound echoed in the empty bathroom.

“What do you think you were doing?” His voice was low.

“Just thought I would give you something better to do,” you grinned at him. You looped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

With the partition supporting your back, Suna lifted one of your legs until it rested at the crook of his elbow. His other hand reached down between your skirt and slipped inside your wet folds. The feeling of his long finger sinking inside you so suddenly made you gasp and you tightened around them. His eyes thinned as he felt your wetness coating his hand.

“So wet. Did it excite you that much to flash yourself in front of other men? Do you want to see you like this?” His voice took on that dangerous low tone as he hissed out those words.

You shuddered, temporarily lost in the feeling of his finger reaching so deep within you. It was a good thing you already took your panties off before he arrived, because it would have been torn into shreds otherwise.

“Only you,” you whispered once you got your breath back.

Hearing that, Suna added another finger. He was stretching you hard, finger curling inside you, reaching depths where you couldn’t on nights when he wasn’t by your side.

You pushed yourself against his fingers when his movements turned languid. Suna watched you lazily as you fucked yourself on his fingers, but the heavy desires clouding his eyes betrayed his expression.

“Rin,” you whined. Because you wanted him to fill you up.

His only response was easing his fingers out of you. You whimpered, clenching around nothing.

The sound of a belt being unbuckled never sounded so glorious to your ears. You looked down. Suna’s cock stood erect, precum leaking at the tip. Just seeing the sight of it made you yearn for him.

“Hurry,” you begged.

He ripped the small foil packet with his teeth.

“Don’t think your family is gonna be even more pleased with me if you get pregnant, but is that what you want? Maybe I should just fill you up.” The sound of his low voice made the coil in your abdomen tighten. His fingers traced along your stomach. There have been so many times when he imagined just filling you up, stuffing you full of his seeds until it dribbled out, marking you as his.

But not today.

He hooked his arms underneath your knees and lifted you up easily. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders and your legs settled around his hips. You lifted your hips up. Suna stroked his cock along your slit, teasing your entrance.

Then in a single stroke, his whole length sank into you. A strangled gasp left your lips.

“S-So big,” you choked out those words.

The stretch burned. His fingers earlier did not prepare you enough for the thick girth that forced its way into your walls, and you struggled to accommodate his huge length that was splitting you open.

Suna cursed under his breath. He rested his forehead against the crook of your neck. The feeling of your wrapped so tightly and deliciously around him made him shudder. He gritted his teeth to suppress the overwhelming urge just to fuck you and ruin you right here.

“Been wanting to do this since I saw you this morning,” Suna groaned.

His mouth ran down your neck, his hot tongue leaving a blazing trail in its wake until he reached your breasts. He sucked on your skin, leaving marks all over. Then, his hot mouth captured your nipple. He rolled it with his tongue, his teeth occasionally grazing it, earning a whimper from you.

Once you got accustomed to his length, you rolled your hips a few times, and seeing the pleasure was greater than the pain, you tried to lift up your body and move on your own seeing he wasn’t moving, but Suna grabbed your hips firmly. “Move,” you begged, close to tears. Suna simply rolled his hips, thrusting shallow thrusts that didn’t satisfy you.

A part of him knew you only wanted his attention, yet another part of him was angry that the other men almost got to see you. A sight that belonged to his eyes only.

“What do you want?” His voice was hoarse. Because he wanted you as much as you wanted him. All those nights he spent alone thinking of you, and here you were finally in his arms.

You looked at him straight in his eyes. “Fuck me, Suna Rintaro.”

The words snapped his last restraint.

Suna pulled all the way out, then slammed your hips back down, hitting the deepest part of you.

You would have screamed if it wasn’t for the fact that all the air was knocked out of your lungs by his sudden movement. Every nerve in your body was on fire. Your fingers digging into his biceps, leaving crescent marks.

The question of how you were going to walk briefly flitted through your mind, but by his next trust, your mind was empty because he had just hit that sweet spot of yours.

‘S-slow down!’

Contrary to your words, your hole was eagerly sucking him back in every time he moved, slick dripping down onto the floor.

His hips snapped to yours repeatedly as he fucked you relentlessly.

It took all you had just to hold yourself up. The pace he set was brutal. Lewd squelching sound and your moans reverberated in the enclosed space. The waves of pleasure crashing through your body threatened to drown you as Suna hit that particular spot that sent your nerves ablaze again and again.

Suna watched the way your eyes glaze over from the pleasure he gave you. The way you looked so perfect taking him all in.

You knew you weren’t going to last long.

“I-I’m coming, Rin,” you managed to say those words in between your moans.

“Then come,” his own voice was strained as he was nearing his own edge, his thrusts losing their rhythm.

It was the sight of you coming undone that led Suna over the edge. The way you arch your back, your walls spasmed around him, clenching so perfectly around him. And the way his name tumbled out of your lips as you came. Suna gripped your hips and with a few particular heavy thrusts, he came with a shudder.

For a few moments neither of you said anything. You were trembling from the high that you’ve just descended from, your heart racing in a furious double time.

Suna’s lips gently brushed against your forehead.

“You okay?” He murmured.

You nodded weakly. “Give me a minute.”

Suna nodded, his lips left light kisses across your collarbones.

Except…

“Wait, Rin, what are your hands doing?!”

Suna looked up at you with a smirk. “Time for round two.”

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | 2021.07.21

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spilled Pearls Extra 2

- ao3 -

“Jingyi?” Lan Qiren repeated, looking down at the child tucked into his arms. “A good name.”

“Isn’t it?” Lan Yueheng said, beaming. “A-Xin thought of it!”

“You don’t say,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “Just the way your wife named all the last six?”

Lan Yueheng grinned bashfully. “She’s better at it!”

Lan Qiren shook his head, amused, and tried to offer the child back to his father.

“No, no, you should hold him longer. Babies are calming, and you’ve been having bad dreams recently, right?”

“Babies are not calming,” Lan Qiren said. There was a limit to how many times someone could play the same joke on him, and yes, he was mentally glaring at Wen Ruohan, Lao Nie, and Cangse Sanren as well while he thought that. “You’ve had six already, you should know that. Can we at least agree that this is the last one?”

Lan Yueheng and Zhang Xin had put off having children to help Lan Qiren raise Lan Xichen and then Lan Wangji, once he’d come around, no matter how much Lan Qiren had argued with them to the contrary. They’d laughed him off, saying it was nothing, but he’d been terribly afraid that they’d miss the window for it and end up childless, with no one to sweep their graves on Qingming except his nephews, and that in the end they’d blame him for it.

Naturally, despite his fears, it turned out in the end that they hadn’t had any trouble at all. Their first had been born when Lan Wangji had been three and Lan Xichen six, and they’d had six more after that, one after another like a bunch of maniacs – a girl, two boys, another girl, and then the twins a few years later, at the very end, just when everyone had thought they were already done. Lan Wangji had already been nearly fifteen, then.

Of course, the whole bit about ‘just when everyone had thought they were already done’ being about the twins was rather outdated: that was before the arrival of little Jingyi.

Nearly ten years after all the rest, even the twins; a belated and extremely unexpected child, as if Zhang Xin and Lan Yueheng and the heavens had all conspired to make fun of Lan Qiren for his previous worries. Zhang Xin had already been in her forties, yet she’d gotten through the entire process with a smile and no apparent discomfort, puttering around in her garden and managing her storehouses and scolding her children without any disruption. Not even the pain of labor would bring her down, even if she did have a tendency to mangle Lan Qiren’s hand and shout his ears to deafness in the process.

Lan Qiren’s ears and hand, because he’d helped oversee the births of his nephews – Han Kexin had resolutely refused the aid of any competent doctor, male or female, mockingly reminding him that she was supposed to be in seclusion, so he’d learned up on the basics himself while retaining the option to call in a proper doctor if something went wrong – and since he’d managed it well enough, naturally Zhang Xin wanted the same, impertinent brat that she was. And of course, she wasn’t going to hurt her husband’s precious hands in the process, never mind that he’d been the one to cause it in the first place.

At least they’d all been more or less easy births.

Little Lan Jingyi had been the easiest of the whole lot. Zhang Xin had barely made herself comfortable before he was coming, and before Lan Qiren had even really accepted that he was coming, he was already here.

Look at the rush to get going, as if he’s afraid to miss out on all the fun if he’s not here! Zhang Xin had laughed. He’s going to want to be part of part of everything!

“Last one, I swear!” Lan Yueheng promised cheerfully. “Anyway, we needed one around that age – that way he can be friends with Wangji’s boy! You know, the one he’s raising with Wei Wuxian, the one who used to be Wen sect.”

Lan Qiren snorted. As if he didn’t know the one in question. Wen Ruohan had been altogether too pleased to offer up some of his own blood to join the Lan sect when it turned out that Wei Wuxian had gotten attached to the orphan child of Wen Ruohan’s kinsman – eager as he ever was, really, to entangle himself irrevocably into Lan Qiren’s life, as if he still thought there was a chance, however remote, that Lan Qiren would find some reason to reject him or cut him out of his life once again. And never mind that it’d been years and years since anything like that had even come closer to happening!

“Yueheng-xiong,” he said patiently. “Mathematics are one of your favorite subjects, so I know you know that that means that your son will be friends with my grandnephew.”

Lan Yueheng scratched his nose. “Not your grandnephew yet,” he said, grinning; he didn’t look even remotely ashamed of it. “Wei Wuxian’s the one that adopted him, and Wangji’s not married him yet!”

“He’s working on it.”

Wen Ruohan’s “help” – in the sense of agreeing to let the Lan sect adopt little A-Yuan and not allowing Wei Wuxian to do it on his own – was probably doing more to impede it than anything else.

Lan Yueheng sniggered. “Should I offer to help?”

“Most certainly not. Save your fireworks and flares for the actual marriage.” Lan Qiren rubbed his forehead. “Cangse Sanren is being deliberately obnoxious about negotiations over it, I swear.”

“Cangse Sanren is always obnoxious, Qiren-xiong,” Lan Yueheng reminded him. “Always – and it’s only gotten worse since she had her doom stolen away by Lao Nie.”

“Don’t remind me,” Lan Qiren grumbled. He didn’t even want to know how the two of them had managed to swap fates, or what the consequences of it would be in the end. For some reason, Wen Ruohan seemed oddly insistent about blaming Lao Nie’s second wife, despite her having been perfectly nice as far as Lan Qiren could tell, if somewhat strangely obsessed with food. Possibly he was just annoyed that poor Wen Zhulio had saved Cangse Sanren’s life a dozen times over so far and yet Lao Nie was getting the credit.

At any rate, neither of them had died so far, which was all to the good.

“I’m getting to the point that I think looking for her master and asking her for permission might be the easier course,” he added irritably. “The boys want to get married! What’s the point of tormenting them over the details?”

“Please don’t go out looking for an immortal mountain, Qiren-xiong,” Lan Yueheng said, laughing, and finally condescended to pluck little Lan Jingyi out of his arms. “I’m going to put him to bed. You should rest, too. No more work today! And only good dreams!”

Lan Qiren shook his head and watched him walk away.

For a moment, the image was replaced with another, a remnant from the terrible dream he had been having the past few nights, the one that still lingered: Lan Yueheng, still laughing but walking with a limp, his right foot gone from beneath the knee – the one he’d lost when the Cloud Recesses had burned, and because of the mess that had ensued it hadn’t been treated for far too long, becoming infected; every year thereafter he had gotten sick from a recurrent and worsening illness, driving Lan Qiren and Zhang Xin both crazy with worry.

Lan Qiren’s chest hurt just thinking about it, his own injuries aching, the remnants of the vicious wounds from the terrible beating Wen Xu had ordered with his eyes curved in a mean smile as he watched them try to break Lan Qiren’s meridians out of sheer spite; one day, in that horrible future foretold by the dream, Zhang Xin would worry too much and fail to pay attention, walking on something she shouldn’t and poisoning her blood, and when she went Lan Yueheng would follow her away, the two of them going side-by-side into the next world as they had gone through this one, leaving Lan Qiren to raise their youngest child the rest of the way himself. No matter how tired he was, he wouldn’t put that burden on their other children, all of them abruptly orphaned, the final belated victims of the desperate war against the Wen sect to stop their tyrannical conquest…

Lan Qiren shook his head abruptly, clearing it.

What am I thinking, he wondered. There’s no war against the Wen sect – if da-ge ever got something like a war of conquest into his head, I’d scold him until my face turned blue. Anyway, even if he did do something like that, A-Xu would never dream of ordering someone to beat me! Didn’t I half-raise him and his little brother both, taught them swordsmanship and music and ethics even as Wen Ruohan taught Xichen and Wangji arrays and talismans and how to understand people?

Anyway, A-Xu’s a sweet boy, underneath his superficial arrogance; he knows better than to put on a face like that in front of me…nor is there anything wrong with Lan Yueheng’s foot, or Zhang Xin’s blood, for that matter. Lan Jingyi’s going to grow up in a large family, loud and screeching and thoroughly inappropriate, and unlike my dream his parents will be at the head of the table to oversee the whole thing.

It was just a bad dream.

Lan Qiren shook his head once again.

Maybe Lan Yueheng was right, he reflect. He ought to get some rest – and not just today. After all, he was already half-retired, with Lan Xichen taking over more and more of the tasks of sect leader and excelling in them; Lan Qiren already spent one month out of every three out of the Cloud Recesses, whether wandering around the cultivation world playing his music or visiting with friends and acquaintances, pretending all the while to ignore the Wen sect and Lan sect and Nie sect guards being too busy socializing with each other to remember that they were supposed to be hidden guards.

He could go again now, even. Wen Ruohan had said something about Lao Nie visiting the Nightless City, the grin on his face leaving little question as to how he planned to spend the time with him; by now they should have worn each other out and were probably capable of something resembling human speech.

Yes, he should go visit them, he thought, and realized once again that he was happy – truly happy, not just content. He would go visit them, and complain about the prospect of yet another of Lan Yueheng’s brood running rampage through his classrooms for however long it took to educate them.

It seemed like each one was louder than the next, but at least little Lan Jingyi, whether in a rush or otherwise, and even in conjunction with Wei Wuxian’s little A-Yuan or Jin Zixuan’s little A-Ling, couldn’t possibly be more disruptive than the twins.

That was simply impossible.

Right?

#mdzs #lan qiren #lan jingyi #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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link4eva · 3 years

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Kiro’s Seeking Date Translation [CN]

Hey, everyone! Just a couple of things before you begin reading. I don’t actually know any Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate. A HUGE shout-out to @keliosyfan and @cheesy09 for helping me with edits and revising. Thank you!!! 💛

Here’s a link to the date video uploaded by @keliosyfan that you can follow along with.

Also, here’s a link to the call that comes before the date.

*TW: I feel like I should note that this date has mentions of human trafficking.*

This translation contains spoilers for a date that has not yet been released to the ENG server. If you wish to not be spoiled, please don’t look below the cut.

Hope you enjoy~ 💛

*Spoilers for future content below!*

[First Part]

??: What are you doing kidnapping her, idiot?!

??: She has been with Helios for so many years, she must be his most important woman.

??: With this woman, we can make him write off his debts and also crush his spirit as a gift to those foreigners.

In the dimness, two male voices drifted into my ears.

My hands were tied behind me, and the rope bore through the cloth on my body. The rough and wet touch made me very uncomfortable.

??: If he really cared about this woman, would he always keep her by his side? Tell everyone that she is his weakness?

??: This woman is a target he bought four years ago to get rid of trash and see who in the city found him unpleasant!

Although I was very certain that these people were telling the truth, after hearing those words, my heart still couldn’t help but ache.

??: This is the end of the matter. This woman can’t stay.

??: Sooner or later, that beast Helios will know what you have done. He would never let us get away with it. *Changed some wording*

??: This person has just been taken away, and Helios won’t be so fast.

The icy sound of a knife unsheathing made me clench my teeth. My whole body shook.

The hemp rope had been cut with the blade hidden in my sleeve, and I waited for the opportunity as it gradually approached.

Even though I closed my eyes, I could always see that person’s face and a pair of indifferent blue eyes.

If I died, would he be sad?

??: Hope... is the most precious thing in this world.

??: Do you want to go with me?

I can’t die yet.

But just before I acted, someone ended up being faster than me.

With a “shink”, it seemed that a sharp weapon pierced the glass and embedded itself into the wooden board. The sudden noise made my heart constrict.

??: Don’t open your eyes.

After an extremely cold and commanding voice sounded, there were shrill screams. In the continuous plethora of sounds, there was the harsh sound of bones being twisted.

I closed my eyes and curled up tightly, worried that this was just a dream.

Until I was hugged in a strong and warm embrace, with the fragrance of smokey tobacco wrapping around me.

I opened my eyes blankly and caught sight of the silver hair that was eye-catching and dazzling in the gloomy thatched house.

Those blue eyes, which were normally calm, were now mixed with a little anger.

MC: ...Am I dreaming?

Helios: Do you often dream of me?

The man gave me a look, held me, and walked out the door. It seemed to be the warehouse of a wine shop.

(Cut to outside)

Suddenly his figure stopped, and I lowered my eyes to find that a man was holding onto his trousers tightly.

??: Mr. Helios, boss, please forgive us this time. We will soon have a big deal, and then we will be accommodated….

Helios: Is the restaurant I run like an orphanage?

Helios: Repaying debts is justified.

He turned a deaf ear to the man’s pleading and the whispers from the bystanders. He moved his long legs, and the man fell to the ground.

At the same time, a group of people began to move in and out of the store.

MC: Should I first….

Helios: Don’t move.

His voice sounded impatient. I blinked and didn’t speak anymore.

After the fight was over, Helios raised the corner of his mouth and gave a slight retort to the kneeling man.

Helios: Mr. Cao, you’re welcome to visit Spring Moon Pavillion next time.

??: You foreign devil, don’t lie! Go to hell!

The curse echoed behind us, and the sound of a solid, steady heartbeat fell upon my ears.

Here, people called him many things-- Mr. Helios, the boss, foreign devil.

No one knew his origins. There was a rumour that seemed to say he was of mixed race.

Most of the restaurants, diners and pawn shops in the city were under his name, and there were many other shady places.

Countless people ate his meals, and countless people enjoyed his turf. They were his business partners, his subordinates, and his debtors.

He was the unspoken ruler of this city.

Everyone here respected him and feared him.

MC: Are you hurt?

I felt the person stepping forward seem to pause, but it was only momentarily.

Helios: No.

I leaned into that somewhat cold embrace, and in my sorrow, it seemed to overlap with the heavy snow from four years ago.

[Second Part]

(Flashback)

I stretched my arms strenuously, trying to grab the flying photograph.

The man behind me tightened the chain on the back of my neck, leaving only the muddy photo in my blurred vision, which ended up crushed with shoe prints on the ground.

Like unforeseen freedom, it broke free, but also decayed. Like my freedom, slowly slipping away with each step.

The world was covered with a film and the insults behind me were drowned out, and only cold white noise remained.

Suddenly, a pair of delicate leather shoes stopped next to the photo, and someone picked it up in the next second.

I blinked slowly, and found an eye-catching and sharp silver light under the extremely gloomy sky.

It was like the first speck of snow that one would find stunning in the late winter, burning straight into people’s eyes, beautiful and cold.

The boy looked around the same age as me, and a pair of azure blue eyes met my own.

The biting cold caused my reaction to delay and another pair of distant and similar pupils appeared before my eyes.

But they were warmer and brighter.

??: Snap out of it!

When my consciousness was pulled back to reality by the pain, I heard screams that did not belong to me. The force that restrained me suddenly disappeared, and I fell directly to the ground.

I reluctantly raised my eyes and found that the silver-haired boy had come over at some point, twisting the man’s wrist with one hand. His gaze shifted from the photo in his hand to me.

??: Did you stay in the orphanage in the east of the city as a child?

I looked at him dumbfoundedly and lost my voice for a moment.

??: Answer me.

MC: [flustered] ….Ye-yes! I stayed there for a year.

The boy’s eyes seemed to light up for a moment because of my answer, and then became alienated in the blink of an eye.

He threw the man aside, lowered his eyes and wiped off the mud from the photo with his white sleeves, then squatted down and handed it to me.

??: I’ll only ask once.

??: Come with me?

I stared at him in a daze, and the roaring from the outside world came to an abrupt end. Only the voice of the boy in front of me and my own heartbeat could be heard.

MC: Ok.

As soon as I spoke, the boy threw a few silver bills at the man.

The heavy snow fell silently, and I was taken into his arms, like a fragmented snowflake.

The blood, water and frost all mixed together, and I heard his voice in the dizziness.

??: Starting today, you are mine.

??: My name is Helios.

??: But I don’t like this name, so don’t call me that.

MC: My name is MC….Then um….what should I call you?

His attitude left me a little perplexed.

Helios: If you have something to say, I will acknowledge it.

Helios: Is that photo important?

In the heavy snow on the quiet road, I lifted my head laboriously, trying to muster a smile.

MC: [smiling affectionately] Very important. He was my best friend in the orphanage and a big star in the city.

MC: Everyone loved to hear him sing. He never cared about who his audience was; he shined nonetheless.

MC: It’s just… He went abroad six months ago, so he must be an even better person now.

The boy’s footsteps froze for a moment as if his feet were bound in ice and snow.

Helios: He’s just an actor.

Helios: A useless profession.

MC: But….it was his smile that gave me strength.

Without him, I would not have been able to hold on till the day I met you.

(End of flashback)

I opened my eyes and turned my head to see Helios sitting on the sofa, casually reading the newspaper. As usual, he should be in the restaurant at this time.

Looking at his profile, the dream I had just now made me a little confused.

It turned out that I had stayed by his side for so long.

He took me back to the small restaurant, healed my injuries and taught me all kinds of things.

Literacy, singing, dancing, medical skills, business….

He was the most ruthless and sharp blade. I had witnessed how he, with his own power, had expanded this small restaurant to its current size in just a few years.

Helios: Get up and eat if you’re awake.

The sudden words interrupted my thoughts. Helios didn’t look up as he slowly took a sip of tea from his teacup. Seeing him frown, I immediately got up from the bed.

The food had been arranged on the wooden table, the temperature just right; neither too hot nor too cold--

Obviously, the people who prepared this had carefully taken time into consideration.

I looked at the man sitting aside from the sidelines and saw the teacup he put aside. I was a little puzzled.

MC: Is that pot of tea not brewed?

Helios: It’s poisoned.

Helios: Tastes terrible.

I almost choked on the spring rolls in my mouth and sighed inwardly at his calm demeanour.

I went up to the cabinet, skillfully took out the bottle of medicine and poured out a pill. I walked up to him and handed it over.

Helios: I won’t die.

After hearing the expected answer, I picked up the pill and brought it to his mouth.

He didn’t open his mouth but stared at me coldly.

MC: You don’t need to stare at me. I’m not afraid of you.

With that said, I continued to pry open his mouth with the pill.

Probably moved by my fearlessness, his mouth finally opened slowly and swallowed the pill.

I smiled with satisfaction and when I turned around to continue enjoying my spring rolls, a pair of cool palms swept over my waist.

The incense stick burned quietly, and a small sigh and familiar body temperature covered me closely from behind.

Helios: Don’t you blame me for using you as bait?

He closed his eyes. His long eyelashes were covered with sunlight and his brows were furrowed.

MC: You taught me that there is no meaningless business in this world.

MC: You bought me. My life is yours.

Helios: That’s the spirit.

The person behind slowly opened his eyes, his pupils full of jest and scrutiny.

MC: Today I just wanted to go to the temple to ask for a peace charm like in previous years.

MC: I was going to go there by myself, but I didn’t want to cause you trouble.

He probably didn’t believe me. Even so, I explained it word by word.

A cool finger stroked my neck and entangled a few strands of my hair.

Helios: How many years have you been with me?

His sudden question had me stunned for a moment.

MC: ….Three years and two hundred and seventy-five days.

Helios: It’s three years and two hundred and seventy-six days.*

*This is a little Easter egg that @keliosyfan spotted. “When Helios asked MC how long she has been with him, she says "3 years, 275 days" but he corrects her saying "3 years, 276 days". If you put the numbers together you get 3276 which in CN numeric slang means "love Qiluo(Kiro) for life" or "生爱棋洛"So in a way, he wants MC to say "I love Kiro for life"(3276/生爱棋洛). 🥺😭🤧”

Although his voice was faint, it was conclusive.

I thought about it and didn’t argue with him. For me, there was no difference between one more day and one less day.

Helios: Want to leave?

MC: ….?

He laughed suddenly, but only slightly mocking this time.

Helios: I can teach you enough to live a better life.

After that, he stood up. The sudden drop in temperature made me feel a little cold in this midsummer weather.

Helios: Since you want to leave, I won’t stop you.

Helios: But leave before the seventh day of July.

[Third Part]

Helios left after saying this, leaving me alone in the room in a daze.

Compared to his sudden expulsion, I was more concerned about another thing.

The seventh day of July.

What was going to happen on that day?

The annexed restaurants, and suppressed merchants….I know what Helios has been doing for several years.

Would my existence cause him any trouble?

I looked at my bare wrists and couldn’t help laughing at myself.

Maybe I was locked in place by a pair of invisible shackles.

I pursed my lips and walked to the closet to take out the bag hidden in its depths. Perhaps it was just my illusion, but it seemed to have been turned over by someone.

(Outside of room)

Outside the dark room, late at night, I tiptoed over with my bag. There were faint sounds of firm punching and kicking coming from inside the room.

Helios stayed alone here every night, not letting anyone come close.

But this was my hidden secret, and I could secretly monopolize Helios at this moment.

As usual, I opened the window a crack.

In the room, Helios was half-naked, and the small old silver locket hung with silver bells, reflecting sharp lines of bright silver light in the cold moonlight.

His movements were swift and fierce, harder than usual as if he was venting out something.

His wet hair was weighed down, and sweat dripped slowly from his lower jaw and down his strong and undulating chest.

He stood at the junction of light and shadow, with most of his face hidden in the darkness.

The sound of cicadas in midsummer made people feel a little restless, and the silver locket on his chest heaved slightly as he panted hard.

Helios stood there and didn’t move. I don’t know what he was waiting for. *The music from the first Valentine’s Day event starts playing so it’s getting steamy 😏*

In the next second, those blue eyes passed through the window and were firmly locked on me.

MC: ….!

I instantly withdrew my head and squatted down.

Helios: ….Come in.

Helios: I’ll only say it once. *Don’t need to tell me twice!! 😩😩 *

Hearing the slightly stiff tone, I stood up, lowered my head, and pushed the door open. I only took a single step in and then stopped.

Helios: I don’t see you this compliant on weekdays.

MC: ….You knew?! Then why did you never let me go before….

Helios: For my own pleasure.

I suddenly raised my head and found that he had positioned himself right in front of me. His scorching body temperature seemed to be able to cross the distance between us and set me on fire.

MC: I-I didn’t come here today to take a peek, I just….

He lowered his eyes and his gaze flicked across the bag I was holding behind me. His smile melted into a bit of a smirk.

Helios: If you’re saying goodbye, you don’t...

MC: I want you to teach me some martial arts.

I held my breath and did not miss the momentary surprise that flashed through his eyes.

MC: What you taught me isn’t enough.

Helios looked at me condescendingly, his eyes dim. A breeze flitted past my ear as his hand smacked against the door frame behind me.

Helios: Not enough?

In this tense atmosphere, I tried my best not to avoid his gaze.

MC: You taught me a lot, but….it felt like things had become even serious today.

MC: So I…. I still need you.

Before I finished speaking, Helios suddenly grabbed my left wrist from the outside and at the same time stretched out his leg to hook behind me.

When I lost my balance, his left hand instantly reached out to support my waist, and his right hand came out from under my arm and clasped my wrist from the front again.

When I came back to my senses, I found that I had been directly pinned to the floor, and the bag in my hands had been tossed aside.

The entire movement was executed clean and smooth, and there was only the faint sound of the silver bell on the old silver locket swaying in the silent air.

Helios: There are many people who need me in this city.

Helios: I can teach you. Want to learn?

He lowered his head slightly, and the old silver locket grazed my chest, which made me take in a sharp inhale. My entire heart and lungs seemed to be occupied by his breath.

I tried to lift up my wrists and lower limbs, but it wasn’t enough to shake off the person above me.

MC: In this bag is the money that I have saved over the past few years. The money you bought me for back then, plus four years’ worth of interest, will be given to you.

Helios: I’m not short on cash.

MC: If you accept the money, I won’t owe you anything, but I will still help you.

I tremblingly stroked the old silver locket on his chest. It carried his body temperature and made my fingertips hot.

It coincided with the seventh day of the seventh month of the first year we met. For the first time, I heard someone cursing him and wanting him to die.

I had cried and went to the temple to ask for a peace charm and an old silver locket. When I got home, I gave them to him together.

I knew that many people in this city hated him, but I wanted him to be safe.

He had just smiled sarcastically at the time, and I threw it away when he turned around. Who knew that I’d see it dangling on his chest here that night.

The silver bells chimed, just like my unstoppable heartbeat.

MC: You still wear this old silver locket.

Helios: I forgot to remove it.

His hot breath fanned my face, entangling with my own breath in the scorching air.

My fingers followed the silver chain of the old silver locket and stroked his chest. I could clearly feel his taut muscles under my fingertips.

MC: There are many orphans like me in the restaurant.

MC: Those merchants who were suppressed by you could always open new shops.

MC: Underground, the losers will always be the bureaucrats who usually bully others and gain funds out of ill will.

MC: I don’t know why you want to be a bad person in the eyes of the city, but what I see is different from others.

Helios: Ridiculous.

MC: This is what you taught me.

Looking at my smile, he snorted coldly, but the moonlight sneaking in illuminated the faint smile in his eyes.

Helios: You just said it wrong.

He glanced at my bag and lowered his body even further.

Helios: Don’t owe me anything?

Helios: The three years and two hundred and seventy-six days with me were enough for you to repay me?

MC: [confused] You didn’t even see how much there is inside….

Helios: I’ve seen it.

He pulled slightly hard, making me stand up instantly.

Helios: You owe me too much.

Helios: I’ll ask you to settle the tab later.

Helios: However, you do need to learn some self-defence skills.

Unlike his usual touch, his fingertips caressed my eyes, ears, nose and neck.

Helios: People have many weaknesses.

Helios: Eyes, ears, throat, heart…. *The way he said this sent shivers down my spine 😳🥵*

As he whispered, his fingertips kept moving downwards, making me nervously hold onto that hand.

Helios: [more sexy whispering] What’s the matter? Don’t you want to learn?

Helios: I gave you the chance to leave.

Helios: But you refused.

[Fourth Part]

Helios implemented his teaching method, “diligently” teaching from the most basic style, which made me extremely embarrassed.

MC: [flustered] ….Can you put on some clothes next time? *MC, no!! What are you even asking?! You enjoy it and you know it! 🥵

Helios: I can wear what I like.

Seeing the obvious teasing in his eyes, I ran away completely.

Finally, I asked him about what would happen on the seventh day of July, and his expression became a little solemn under the clear moonlight.

Gradually, I became even more sure that this was related to what he had done for so many years.

(Cut to store)

In the early morning of the seventh day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar, a few foreigners in suits and arrogant expressions came to the store.

These people seemed to be a little unkind, and my heart felt uneasy.

Waiter: Miss MC, a guest of the boss, made a reservation at Spring Moon Pavillion.

MC: Let me take care of it.

With a smile, I went to the foreigners and led them to the booth. I didn’t expect that Helios would already be waiting there.

The moment he saw me, his brows lightly furrowed and he tilted his head slightly.

“Leave.”

I blinked and instantly understood what he meant. After the foreigners walked into the booth, they positioned themselves again at the door.

MC: Boss, your guests are here.

After that, I took a step back and then ridicule suddenly rang out.

??: Leaving already?

Unexpectedly, a foreigner walked over, grabbed my wrist and dragged me directly into the booth.

??: Helios, you must have misunderstood.

??: What is the meaning of a group of men when talking about business?

The foreigner smiled sarcastically. I restrained the urge to shoot and looked at Helios cautiously.

In the next second, an invisible cold front flew past my face, grazing the wrist of the foreigner and leaving behind a small, bloody wound.

No one knew when he fired the shot, and Helios was still leaning on the sofa, lazily looking at the wailing foreigner. He made no effort to hide his coldness and murderous intent.

Helios: Next time, it’ll be your head.

Helios: Come here.

I stood cautiously behind Helios, and saw a man in a white suit standing up with a feigned smile.

Foreigner: Just kidding. Don’t get upset, Helios.

Helios: Is that what you learned by spying on me every day?

My heart sank and I tried my best to calm my nerves.

Have these people been spying on him?

Foreigner: Don’t say that, we just need to confirm whether you are worthy of our cooperation.

Foreigner: After all, with this kind of business, ordinary people are not eligible to participate.

Foreigner: But….we also have to look at the sincerity of the boss.

His eyes moved from Helios to me with an arrogant smile.

Foreigner: I heard that you have a well-trained girl who is clever and easy to use. I wonder if you are willing to share?

I was shocked and couldn’t move. I waited quietly for Helios’ answer.

Helios: I can.

The cicadas kept humming noisily, and for an instant, I seemed to be back to that moment from four years ago, when there was only haziness left in this world.

But I just blinked and walked respectfully from the back of the sofa to the foreigners.

It sounded like a serious matter. Maybe he wanted me to be an undercover agent for these foreigners?

Or maybe he just changed his mind again and didn’t need me anymore.

My vision became a little blurred.

Helios: Did you really think I would say that?

Helios’ arms encircled me from behind. His familiar breath came over me, and his voice was filled with pure mockery.

Foreigner: Helios, what do you mean?

Helios: Your nonsense... will anyone still want it?

The foreigner was stunned as if he didn’t expect him to say that. But in the next second, his expression became fierce again.

Foreigner: So it was you who brought those people…!

In the horrified eyes of those foreigners, Helios’ smile became even more ruthless.

Helios: I’ve been tired of looking at the faces of you idiots for a long time now.

Helios: I asked you to come today to settle the account.

At Helios’ signal, I slowly withdrew from the booth.

(Cut to lobby)

I didn’t know what would happen to them next, but maybe something would briefly end today.

I returned to the lobby and asked for the guestbook from the front desk. I wanted to distract myself but there was one face that was stuck in my mind.

Helios won’t get hurt, right?

Helios: ….MC.

Did I trouble him again just now?

Helios: MC.

An impatient sigh sounded in my ears and I felt my figure tilt, and in the next moment, I was trapped in someone’s arms.

Helios: Didn’t you hear me calling you?

MC: Helios….!

Helios: I should’ve said that only you can’t call me by that name.

In this lighted corner, the ambiguous gazes of the other guests in the lobby wandered over to us.

MC: Did you just call me? Wait… Has your matter been resolved?

MC: And let me go first. Th-there are other guests here.

Helios: This is my restaurant.

His fingertips rested on the guestbook, and a faint chilly scent emanated from him.

Helios: Did you really think I would give you to those people just now?

MC: ….

He narrowed his eyes, his voice carrying with it some faint, dangerous warning.

MC: …. I didn’t.

Helios: You’re a terrible liar.

Helios: Why did you walk over?

MC: Because I believe in you. I know you have your reasons.

I couldn’t help holding onto his drooping lapels. At this moment, Helios seemed to reveal all those sharp edges and corners of his heart.

There were only some unfamiliar ones left, which belonged to the insecurities of youth.

Helios: Ridiculous.

As he said this, he pulled me up and walked into the depths of the lobby.

MC: ….Sorry.

Helios: I’m talking about myself.

I looked up in surprise and saw his slightly ironic expression.

Helios: They have a large munitions factory behind them.

His voice was indifferent, but what he said was like a time bomb, going off in my brain.

MC: Munitions factory?!

Helios: Those foreigners have been smuggling arms into the city.

Helios: I couldn’t find the buyers and sellers, but there was always a steady stream of arms that kept coming into the city.

Hearing this, I felt cold sweat ooze from my back.

I knew what the meaning was behind all of this.

I remembered the unfinished words under the hideous faces of those foreigners just now.

Helios had found those people now.

MC: Why…. are you telling me this?

Helios: Because I want to.

In the midst of my wildly racing heartbeat, his words were sure and firm, as if something seemed to be coming to light.

MC: The merchants and bureaucrats that you suppressed were all related to this, right?

Helios’ silence secretly confirmed my suspicions, and my heart couldn’t help but race.

He always carried all the dangers by himself; walking alone in silence.

Why not ask other people for help?

Just as I was about to ask, I immediately thought of the answer.

With the continuous delivery of arms, both buyers and sellers were in the dark, and easy actions against them would only be a surprise.

Did he destroy those arms?

Helios: Strength and weapons are necessary.

Helios: Those who really need it will use them to protect important things.

He said this matter of factly with determined eyes as if understanding what I was thinking in my heart.

We walked through the corridor of the hotel and came to the street from the side door.

The dusk was heavy, the red lanterns softly brightening the sights of the entire street, and it was full of liveliness.

The girls blushed as they cuddled up with their partners under the lights and the crescent silver moon.

Such a quiet night made my nose itch.

MC: If those goods were sold to the original sellers.

MC: What would tonight have been like?

I turned my face to look at Helios by my side. The warm yellow lights shone on the side of his stern face. He didn’t say a word, probably accepting something reluctantly.

MC: What you said about this world… What do you think it will look like in the future?

Helios: There is only brief peace at the moment.

Helios: But suffering will bloom into a flower. (Sidenote: what he means to say is "no pain, no gain." It's one of Kiro's character themes :>)

He raised his head slightly, and the cold moonlight reflected in his blue eyes, like the sea under the moon.

Silent and immense, as if it could contain everything.

Seeing him like this reminded me of those distant eyes.

In a ghostly manner, I took out the crumpled old photo from my purse and held it beside his face.

Helios: Why do you carry this person’s picture with you everywhere?

MC: [smiling affectionately] Because he is special to me.

Helios: And yet you still follow me?

MC: This is different.

Looking at his teasing smile, I snorted at him and looked at the boy in the photo with a warm smile.

MC: You said that when technology advances in the future, this photo will definitely become the colour in my memory.

Under the blue sky, the blond boy was like a passionate golden sun under the eyes of the crowd.

He smiled and seemed to be able to become a source of invincible courage.

He could gather endless amounts of enthusiasm as long as he stood there.

His voice turned into notes and tunes, dancing along with the wind, driving some of the darkness away.

In this devastated generation, he was like a burning flame.

Kiro: I’m Kiro.

Kiro: Thank you for listening to my song.

Helios looked at the yellowed black and white photo, looking a bit dazed for a while, and a little lonely.

Helios: No one in this city remembers him anymore.

MC: I still remember.

MC: Even if the whole world doesn’t, I will remember him.

In those turbulent years, I had always remembered the embers left behind by that meteor.

Once, there was a young man named Kiro who helped me through countless dark and dull times with a smile.

Until the day I met Helios. I gained the strength to live again from this person.

MC: I think you are very similar.

MC: Although your methods are different, you are both using your own strength to illuminate and empower others.

Helios’ pupils contracted unconsciously, and became deeper with my words.

The slowly rising paper lanterns glowed with a gentle light, quietly surrounding us, like a tender embrace.

Helios: You haven’t asked for this year’s peace charm.

Hearing what he said, I suddenly remembered that because of the previous kidnapping, I couldn’t find a peace charm.

MC: Seeing your attitude before, I thought that there was something that was making you anxious, so I kept following you.

Helios: What attitude?

MC: You said I should leave before the seventh day of July. I asked you about it later, but you didn’t say anything. Wasn’t it about that serious matter?

Hearing my question, Helios froze for a moment and then turned his face to the side, his earlobes slowly turning red.

MC: Was that not what it meant?

Helios: ….

He pursed his mouth and the lights shone behind him like a splendid landscape painting.

Helios: Because “weakness” really does become a weakness.

MC: Huh?

Helios: You are the only person here who wants me to be safe and live a long life.

Helios: I was reluctant to wait until the Qixi Festival this year.

Helios: Although, I don’t understand why you would want to wish for peace during the Qixi Festival.

My heart was beating fast, and seeing Helios’ face turned to the side, I found his eyes to be brighter than the stars.

MC: [blushing] Because, because I just happened to run into you at that time. *Changed some wording*

MC: And if it’s the New Year, the wishes would all pile up on top of each other, and God won’t be able to hear them.

MC: During the Qixi Festival, maybe God is used to hearing the wishes for marriage, so he can hear my request for peace without needing it to unheard.

Helios: Then today, in addition to asking for peace, you can also wish for marriage.

Helios smiled slightly with some clarity and sincerity.

MC: ….In that case, a name is needed.

MC: But you never let me call you by this name.

I held my breath nervously and saw his face slowly leaning towards me. I didn’t mind the attention around me, and his breath slowly entangled with mine.

Helios: Let me see.

His protracted tone was a bit tempting and bewitching as if it had lost a thick shell; more naked and intimate than usual, and finally landed on my lips.

Helios: Ki-Ro.

Helios: Please use that name.

End

You can find the call that comes after this date here!

#mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mr love #mr love game #mr love queens choice #mr love dream date #mldd #mr love kiro #mldd kiro #mlqc kiro #周棋洛 #date translation #LOVED THIS DATE!!#a whole symphony of Kiro flavours #I especially liked the unexpected spice

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

I was feeling angsty. Read at your own risk, there is very little comfort in this and a whole shit ton of hurt. Probably a bunch of emotional triggers, so seriously be careful guys.

—*—*—*—*—*

Liquid pain ran down her arm like poison, the slash in it burning hot and spreading it’s agony like an invisible waterfall inside her flesh. But she did not grip her bicep where the wound had been inflicted, her gaze blank as she forced herself to hide her turmoil behind glass eyes. Her brother’s snarling face was only inches in front of her own, his katana moving from her arm to her throat.

“Useless! To think we share any blood relation is humiliating!” He growled at her. She did not move, did not emote. Her blades fans, the weapon she was loved most, lay half-opened on the ground beside her. Abandoned. But she knew Damian’s sword would not kill her. Blood family was a bond that was not to be severed by murder unless ordered by Ra’s or justified by the murdered family member in question betraying the League. She had done nothing to betray the Shadows, and Ra’s would not waste time and energy, or the breath it would require, to order her death. Just as he would not waste the precious waters of the Pit to bring her back again. She would not die today, and she knew it.

Sure enough, it was only a few more insults in various languages before Damian Al-Ghul stepped back and scowled down at the blood on his blade. Her blood. “If you don’t even have the stomach for real combat, you do not belong here,” he spat.

“That is where we agree, Grandson,” Ra’s sharp voice echoed through the room, his beady eyes never once bothering to glance at his granddaughter. “Maria, you are hereby stripped of the name Al-Ghul. Banishment from the League is the only mercy you shall be granted for your dishonor on our blood. Be useful and use whatever is left of your mistake of a life to stay out of the League’s way. Shall I, Damian, or your mother ever see your face again, your burial will follow shortly after. Am I understood?”

“Yes Gr— yes, Ra’s Al-Ghul.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Maria Al-Ghul was seven years old when she was disowned and sent away from the League of Shadows without so much as a penny to her name. She was only allowed to take the change of clothes she carried, and one small backpack’s worth of items. Her mother— Talia— had watched vigilantly as she packed those items, assuring that Maria did not take anything of worth.

The girl traveled by foot, too small to get away with driving a vehicle. Unless she could manage to steal a motorbike— she knew how to adjust the seats and pedals on most models to accommodate her size. But she was far too far away from civilization for that.

She knew that most of the League expected her to die in the jungles that surrounded the temple. After all, there were ninjas scattered throughout it with strict orders to kill anyone who was not one of them. And Maria now fit that description.

But if there was one thing Maria knew better than anything else, it was how to hide. How to hide feelings, intentions, involuntary movements, or her whole body in almost any setting. She covered herself in mud, matted her hair with dirt and took off her shoes. Barefoot was always quieter, and her feet would be more sensitive to any change in terrain. She would have to move more slowly and be on the lookout for traps, ground litter that could harm her, or dangerous wildlife, but she would be much harder to track.

It took her a month, but she made it to her first Tibetan city alive and decently healthy. She begged for food for a day before snatching a child’s outfit off of some hanging laundry lines and stealing the first decent vehicle she found. It was an old moped, but it beat walking and was already built small. She made it work.

That was how she spent the majority of the next year. She traveled from town to town, stealing what she needed until she could earn money normally. She used that money to buy herself a fake identity, even if she had to use the skills she had hoped to never need again in order to afford it.

Marinette Shiwang was born when she was already eight years old.

It was only a year after her new identity was created when she bumped into a woman in a street market. That was nothing new, those places could get crowded. But when Marinette looked up and saw valuable bracelets and necklaces of gold and jade, she knew she needed at least one. The money she would get for it would have her living comfortably for a short while. So Marinette’s theft-experienced fingers darted out and unclasped one bracelet in a fluid movement. It took less than a second. She barely had the piece of jewelry in her hand before she started to take off, hoping to lose herself in the crowd.

But a small hand clamped around her shoulder, a sturdy thumb pressing against a very vulnerable spot right at the back of Marinette’s neck, at the base of her skull. A clear threat from somebody with experience.

The sweet voice that followed didn’t match the gesture at all.

“Oh, I need that back dear. It was a gift from my husband, you understand.”

Marinette did. She cared about survival more. The small girl twisted, knocking the hand away from her before it could do damage and darting down a side street. The woman followed. It took three hours, but Marinette decided she had finally lost her pursuer before slumping down in the tiny, closet-sized bedroom of her cheap apartment. Her eyes closed for only a second before the window opened, and the smell of newly-baked sesame buns filtered through.

It was the woman and a much taller, much more masculine man. He was practically a giant, reminding Marinette of a certain member of the League that she used to know. They were both smiling.

“My wife figured you would be more open to an exchange than just giving up the bracelet for free,” the man’s voice was deep and inviting. “You can eat as many buns as your stomach can handle, if you give it back.”

Marinette accepted. Mostly because of her fear for people who could track her to her home so easily, when she had been certain she had not been followed. The League has tuned her senses well, there was no way the couple had been close enough to see her when she made it to her apartment. Yet they were still there somehow. Then, it also had to do with the promise of food, and the heavenly smell of the food itself. And then, lastly, Marinette was tired. She didn’t like stealing, it was just a necessity. She would not hurt these people over a mere bracelet that she wished she didn’t have to take in the first place.

Useless, she thought. So much of a bleeding heart that she just gave up what could have paid for two months rent. Too soft to even protect herself. The Al-Ghuls has been right. She was a waste of space and time.

Marinette was ten years old when she became a Dupain-Cheng. Somehow, that strange, dangerous couple had become her new family. Not even she knew how. But she was grateful— they took her back to Paris with them and she didn’t have to worry about rent, or food, or money anymore.

She vowed, that day that she received her spacious attic bedroom, that she would repay them. She would make herself useful, for the first time in her life. She would stay out of their way, be the perfect most unobtrusive daughter ever. She would help in the bakery, keep a smile on her face so that they never doubted that they were doing a good job. So that they never wasted time worrying about her. She smiled, and laughed, and became successful for them. Competent and reliable even though her memories would sink into her dreams every day and make it near impossible to drag herself out of bed in the mornings.

And then, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng was thirteen, she was given a pair of magical earrings and a tiny fairy-god. And Tikki was thorough, at least. Diligent in her explanation. Marinette listened to every word, dread seeping in as she doubted her ability to carry out such an important task. Save a city? Defeat someone much more experienced and magically powerful than her?

Useless little Maria could never. Slightly less useless Marinette could never.

She was only ever meant to play a support role. Stay on the background and make everyone else shine, without ever succeeding in anything worth noting. That was who she was.

But then Tikki gave her the Warning. The catch that came with the Ladybug abilities, and Marinette felt the long-rusted determination in her begin to fire up again. Maybe she could be Ladybug. Maybe she could be useful, at least this once. At least for just this one scenario. She could fight and win the war against Hawkmoth, and that achievement alone could make her happy. Let her die knowing she did something worthwhile.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian Wayne was seventeen when he and his family found out about the Paris Situation, and immediately went over to offer help. Damian Wayne was seventeen when he watched Ladybug stumble at the sight of him, and immediately run away. But the two of them were twins, and though twin telepathy might be a myth they always did have a certain instinct when it came to one another.

Damian Wayne was Seventeen when he said, aloud on the top of a random Parisian building and surrounded by his family—

“My sister is Ladybug.”

Damian didn’t wait for their reactions, having entirely forgotten about the existence of his father and brothers, before taking off after his spotted sibling.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I knew you were alive.”

In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best words for him to say when Maria clearly thought he was still an assassin.

Damian watched as Marinette spun to face him, her face so much more expressive than he remembered. He could actually see the resignation in the slump in her shoulders, he could feel the fear in her bluebell eyes. The eyes she was lucky enough to get from their father while he was cursed with their mother’s green irises. He used to envy that about her, especially after joining the BatClan. But now he only felt comfort when he looked into her eyes. Comfort that she was different than him, and always had been. In the best of ways.

He watched as his sister was enveloped by a bright flash of pink light, detransforming right in front of him. And without the mask, it was impossible to ignore the relation between them. She had their father’s eyes and nose where he had their mother’s, but other than that they were almost carbon copies of one another. Her blue-black hair was pulled back into twin braids though, something he noted distantly as oddly fitting. They suited her, he thought.

But all those thoughts instantly turned to dust as she dropped to her knees in front of him, head bowed in complete submission.

“Tom and Sabine are innocent,” she told him. “They adopted me out of nothing but goodwill, and they have been nothing but good to me. I never told them a single word about my origin, I swear it on our blood. They think I am just an orphan that was abandoned in Hong Kong—“

“Maria—“

“—so please, don’t harm them. I’m begging you. And there is no need for you to waste energy killing me. You are welcome to stay in Paris as long as no harm comes to Tom and Sabine, but just wait and watch. I know who Hawkmoth is, and our final plan is almost ready. I’ll have him taken down by next week. Just— wait until then, please. My death will take care of itself afterwards, but Paris deserves to be free, and killing me now will set this entire war against Hawkmoth back by at least a year. And I also need that time to pick my successor—“

“Maria! I am not here to kill you!” Damian had to yell to get her to stop babbling and begging. She froze, but didn’t dare to sit up or even raise her head. So Damian took the initiative and sat down on the ground with her, though he kept his distance so that he didn’t scare her too badly. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction, it had been ten years since they had seen one another and their parting hadn’t exactly been pleasant.

But he had changed a lot since then, matured a lot.

“I am completely disconnected from the League,” he admitted. Of the blurry memories he had of her, he did remember that being blunt was the best way to handle information with her. Beating around the bush had always done nothing but make her exceptionally nervous and jittery. Sure enough, his admission was enough to make her look up at him with disbelieving eyes. He risked a small grin. “I didn’t come in my old uniform, did I?” He gestured to himself in the bright Robin colors. Sure enough, Marinette’s rapid blinking proved his theory that she hadn’t even registered his clothing at all to be true. She had run as soon as she recognized his face.

But Marinette did not speak. She sat up a little, still eyeing him cautiously. But her silence helped him finally realize where they were— where she had led him.

The sounds of traffic and other big city noises were all muted, as if muffled by several layers of cloth. Shadows fell over them abundantly, and they were surrounded by dilapidated concrete walls.

She had brought him to an abandoned area far from any activity, where a body would take ages to find. She had then disarmed herself of her only weapon, her magic suit, and had gotten on the ground in total submission.

She had purposely given him the perfect setting to kill her, where there would be no witnesses and plenty of time before her body would be found for him to escape. That realization hit Damian square the chest, leaving him breathless for a moment.

“I am not here to kill anybody,” he reiterated, his voice noticeably much gentler than before. “Not you, not you adoptive parents, nobody. I left the league when I was eleven. Mother—“ he took a breath, but Maria deserved to know. “— she cloned me. Her clone killed me. He no longer exists, but that is of no consequence. She killed me, she and Grandfather disowned me when I made it clear I was not returning. Father— our father,” he was insistent as he leaned forward, not continuing until she met his gaze. “You remember who our father is, right? Bruce Wayne? Mother had dropped me off to be raised with him when I was ten, but of course it was all just one of her plots. It was her miscalculation though, because I ended up growing close to them. To Father and his adopted children. You would get along with Gra— with Dick, the best I think. Although T— Jason would also be a prime contender as your favorite brother, I think. He shares your love of motor bikes, if that hasn’t changed?” She just stared at him, clearly confused and experiencing a lot of feelings at once. He stayed silent for a moment to allow her to sort through them a little.

“I’m Robin now,” he made his voice quieter, but still easy for her to hear. “I’m a member of the Bats. I’m sure they would all welcome you, if you chose to meet them. Though be warned, they can be quite in—“

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette’s voice was barely above a whisper, Damian almost didn’t hear her. But he did, and fell silent. He watched as his sister licked her lips and tried to find the right words to say. “If what you say is true… you have a perfectly good family. Brothers, Father, a comfortable life. Why follow me then? Why offer me… any of that?”

Damian frowned. He didn’t remember Maria being so gloomy, but then again she had been raised to never show her emotions. Maybe, after years away from the temple like him, her true feelings were just easier for him to see now. Closer to the surface.

“I want to get to know you— to get to know my sister, again,” he told her. “Don’t tell them, but Father and the others have taught me to appreciate family. The way I treated you when we were children was not right, and though it was heavily influenced by Mother and Grandfather, I want to make up for it nonetheless. Maybe we can get to know the new us, together?”

Marinette’s eyes went wide with disbelief, but then she clenched her jaw and shook her head.

“We can’t.”

“... right, I understand if you do not forgive me. I didn’t even consider—“

“It isn’t that,” Marinette was quick to correct him. “When I said that my death will handle itself, I mean it, Damian. The Ladybug… the earrings that give me my powers, come with a price,” she absently ran her fingertips over the unassuming black studs in her ears. “If a Ladybug uses the miraculous for more than three years, the powers of Creation will demand to be balanced. Already, the Miraculous is powering itself on nothing but my life force now. Once I defeat Hawkmoth, there will be no need for Ladybug anymore. The moment I take the earrings off, they will cease keeping me alive.”

Damian’s face fell. No— no, that wasn’t right. He was finally able to find her, finally able to apologize and try to fix his past mistakes. This couldn’t be how the reunion went. This couldn’t—

“Not even the Lazarus Pits can bring me back from a Miraculous death,” Marinette went on. “So you and your family should go. You don’t need to be here when I—“ Marinette paused, gasping. “Damian, why are you crying?! Stop that!” Her voice became desperate, Marinette crawling over to him as quickly as she could and wiping away his tears as if they were something terrifying. Damian wasn’t sobbing or making any noise, it was just a silent stream of tears running down both cheeks as he stared at her wordlessly.

“I…” he finally managed to choke out. “I wanted to make up for everything. I wanted for us to be twins again, together.”

Marinette paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I know a magic user who can erase your memories of me,” she offered. “But you don’t have to feel guilty for anything. You never said anything that wasn’t true.”

Damian’s green eyes widened. He had said nothing but cruel things to her, that last year they spent together as children. Did she really believe all of that? Did he and their childhood really affect her self worth this severely and irreversibly?

“Maria—“

“My name is Marinette, actually,” she corrected him with a small smile. “I’m not Maria Al-Ghul anymore. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is actually useful, Damian. I can actually do things right— I’m doing something right right now. Beating Hawkmoth will be the first worthwhile thing I’ve ever done, don’t you see? Once it’s all over, I will have brought honor back to our blood. I’ll have proved to you that I really am your twin, that I wasn’t a mistake. That I was born for a reason,” Marinette’s eyes got dreamy even as Damian just felt like he was impaled again, this time by a spike of ice rather than a sword. “And I’ll be able to die before I ruin it. It’s a perfect scenario.”

“A perfect scenario implies that nothing important is going to be lost,” Damian breathed. Marinette just blinked.

“Yeah, I know. That’s the plan. Defeat Hawkmoth, save Paris, and nobody dies.”

“But you’re going to die!” He growled. Marinette leaned back, bewildered by his violent reaction.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I actually matter. Nobody needs me. Tom and Sabine might be hurt for a while, but they will recover just fine. And it’s not like I have friends or any—“

“Stop worrying about other people, damnit!” Damian surged forward, grabbing her shoulders hard enough to bruise and shaking her a little. “Even back then! Even when we were seven, you threw down your blades because you were more worried about hurting me than you were about how Grandfather would react, even though you knew he would be tempted to kill you for what he thought was cowardice! You never put yourself first, and it’s finally starting to piss me off!”

“Damian—“

“No, listen to me!” He shook her again, his tear stained cheeks only making his glare all the more potent as he stared right into her eyes. “You are alive, and your life matters! You were never worthless or useless, you just didn’t fit what our abusive situation wanted of you. They wanted a cold hearted killer, a tool they could use, and you were always too warm hearted and clever to fit either of those goals. But I did, I was the killer they were looking for and the pawn they wanted. If anything, that makes you better than I ever was! I was too young and naive to see it back then, but I’m trying to make up for it now. You are my sister, whether you go by Maria or Marinette, Al-Ghul or Wayne or Dupain-Cheng, I don’t give a damn! And so help me, even if I have to surgically attach those earrings to your skin, I am not letting you die before you gain at least a modicum of respect for yourself. Do you understand me?”

A wet sniffle met his ears, and he pulled Marinette in for a hug. She returned it weakly, sniveling and sobbing into his cape.

“D-d-Damian?”

“Yes, Shaqiqa?”

Another sniffle.

“I-is it really o-okay for me to stay with you?”

“Of course.”

“I-is… is it really oka-ay for… for me to live?”

Damian’s arms tightened around her. “Always. Always, always.”

Marinette buried her face into his shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“Th-then… I wanna try.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Not sorry. Ha 😎

#mlb x dc #maribat #platonic daminette #bio!dad au #Bio!Dad Bruce Wayne #sibling Daminette #angst #heavy angst #hurt no comfort #or very little comfort anyway #ml x dc #platonic brucinette #twin AU

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captainsolare · 3 years

Text

can I have “when the day met the night” by panic! at the disco with Hawks (or any character you feel inspired to do I’m not fussy). Thanks!

A/N: I made this one its own separate post because the inspiration fairy really took over and made this so very long. I hope you enjoy Cindy!!

Tags: There's some angst in here but it gets better I promise!! I'm sorry Hawks fans feel free to scream in my inbox or the replies, this is kind of a slow burn I guess? I desperately needed to give context to shape the story

Word Count: 4,394 (I"M SO SORRY)

“When the Day Met the Night” by Panic! at the Disco + Hawks

The summer wind whipped Hawks’ hair as he flew over the city, he was grateful the day had been mostly quiet, but he was getting weary from a long day of getting cats out of trees and the like. Maybe I should land somewhere, take a break. He mused, spotting a rooftop garden on an apartment building.

He landed and there was a small gasp, his keen eyes looked for the source of the noise and landed on you, in a lawn chair covered in the iced tea you had spilled on yourself from the shock of his sudden appearance.

“H-hawks?” You asked, face a sheet of surprise.

He smiled, “In the flesh!”

The golden rays of the sunset lit your face and he took notice of how beautiful you looked for the first time.

Once the initial shock of your favorite hero landing in front of you faded, you became acutely aware of the ice in your lap. Grimacing uncomfortably, you stood, wiping the ice and tea off your legs as best you could.

“Sorry about the tea.” Hawks said, wings hunching closer to his body.

You smiled, a chuckle rumbling in your chest. “It’s no biggie, my apartment is just downstairs so I can go change in a bit.”

“Oh okay.”

An awkward silence hovered between you, Hawks’ feathers twitched uncomfortably and you were frozen in place, save for you rocking on your heels. It was clear that Hawks hadn’t landed here for any hero business, perhaps he just needed a break? Either way, you definitely didn’t want to miss this chance; how often did someone’s favorite hero land on their roof?

“Say,” You said after a while, “Would you want some tea? I can run and change then come back up with some.”

Hawks swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling very dry. “That would be great actually.”

You smiled, “Great, be back in a flash!”

As soon as you made it to your apartment, panic set in, what should you wear? You simultaneously felt like screaming and jumping up and down, but you knew you were wasting precious time.

Hawks was tempted to leave, he hadn’t exactly planned on resting here for long, and now a civilian was bringing him iced tea? Was getting a drink from a civilian the best idea? It could be poison after all, but he was very thirsty, and you didn’t seem the type to go around assassinating heroes.

His first impression of you was basic, you were beautiful and kind, that was for certain, but it seemed you were just an awestruck fan.

The door opened and you bounded back out onto the roof, fresh clothes and two glasses of iced tea in your hand.

He took the glass from your outstretched hand gratefully and sat in the chair opposite the one you had been in when he had first arrived.

“So,” You asked, after a sip of tea, “What brings you here?”

He decided to take a sip, it was just tea, he couldn’t find anything wrong with it. Normal tea made by a normal person.

“Just a slow day, tired of flying around.”

You seemed to find his comment amusing, the corners of your mouth upturned as you took another sip from your glass. “Do heroes ever have a slow day?”

He chuckled, “You’d be surprised. I don’t mind it though, gives me time to do as I please.”

The more you talked with Hawks, the more you realized how normal he was. Aside from the giant wings, and his top five hero status, he seemed to be a normal guy. It was intriguing, to say the least, you hadn’t known what you were expecting if you were to ever have a conversation with him, but it certainly wasn’t over a glass of iced tea.

The sun sank lower over the horizon and Hawks stood, wings billowing out around him.

“Thanks for the tea, it was delicious.”

“Of course, feel free to stop by anytime and I can make you more.”

Hawks smiled at you, but you noticed it was tinged with sadness. Actually, the whole time you had been talking, it seemed as if there was something there, haunting him just below the surface.

As he took off into the dying light from the sun, his heart twinged; for some reason, it hurt to leave.

He faded into a speck into the sky and you picked up his glass with your own, heading back to your apartment.

“Would it be gross if I didn’t wash this ever again?” You asked no one in particular.

Yes, yes it definitely would be. You laughed to yourself, setting the glasses in the sink.

Days passed and still no Hawks, of course, you hadn’t been expecting him to show up again, but there was still a pang in your heart as the sun set day after day.

You sat cross-legged in the lawn chair, notepad on your lap and pen in hand, tapping your knee thoughtfully as you tried to think of where you were going to take the current story you were working on.

A gust of wind hit and you scrambled to keep hold of your notepad.

“Whatcha working on?”

It was like electricity, you looked up when the familiarity of the voice set in and saw Hawks standing there. Breathing hard and setting your notepad on the table beside you, you sighed.

“Hawks! You’ve gotta stop--”

“Dropping in like this? Yeah, I’ve been told it freaks people out. Can’t help it though, I get a kick out of people’s reactions.” He chuckled, and you melted into a smile.

Your heart was strangely warmed by the fact he finished your sentence.

“Want some tea?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

As soon as he was left alone, Hawks was extremely tempted to read what you’d been writing on your notepad. In your previous conversation, you’d mentioned you were a freelance writer, but you’d never told him what exactly it was you worked on, and despite appearances, he was an extremely nosey person.

“Want to read it?”

It was his turn to nearly jump out of his skin as you returned, carrying a tray with two glasses and a pitcher.

You set the tray down between you and handed him the notepad. “There you go, can’t promise you’ll enjoy it though.”

You poured his tea and set it near him. It sat untouched as he read, but you didn’t mind, it was more entertaining to watch his face as he read your most recent manuscript.

The story started out simple enough, it was in second person, and the reader was getting ready to go to an exclusive party, primarily attended by heroes. Hawks’ eyes widened almost comically as he reached the part in the story where Edgeshot made a particularly salacious comment towards the reader and you couldn’t contain your laughter.

Hawks set the manuscript back on the table once he was finished. His face was a mixture of amusement and confusion as he turned to you for the first time since he picked it up.

“What exactly did I just read?” He asked slowly, blinking several times in confusion.

Laughing, you took the manuscript from the table and set it under your chair. “It’s a point of view story. Basically, the reader is inserted into the world of heroes, and this one involves Edgeshot.”

“I see. And people pay you for this?”

“You’d be surprised, it’s actually quite a lucrative business.”

Hawks’ wings puffed slightly, “How lucrative?”

You shrugged, “It pays the bills, plus a little more.”

Hawks took a sip of his tea as he pondered more questions to ask. Suddenly he sat up straighter, leaning towards you, elbows on his knees.

It seemed there was a burning question on his mind, so you gestured for him to speak.

He bit his lip, unsure of how to ask his question without seeming self-centered.

“Have you ever… written a story about me?”

You laughed and his cheeks flamed red, wings puffing out behind him in embarrassment.

“Yes, yes I have, several in fact,” you paused to chuckle some more. Taking a deep breath you continued, “You can’t read them though! They’re far too embarrassing now that I’ve actually met you.”

To your surprise, Hawks deflated into a pout, even his wings shrunk, you almost wanted to laugh, in that moment he looked like a puppy with giant wings.

“Don’t worry, maybe I’ll let you take a peek someday.”

In that instant he reinflated, wings puffing back up to a happy medium and his smile returning.

You talked until the stars began to shine in the sky.

He hesitated before he left, “Would it be okay if I came back tomorrow?”

“I’d like that Hawks.”

“Keigo, call me Keigo.”

You inhaled, this was quite a show of respect from the hero, “Okay, goodnight Keigo.”

He came back the next day, and the next day, and the day after that. And on the days he was unable to tear himself away from his hero work for long enough to visit you, his sidekicks noticed he was visibly bothered by something.

“What’s up with Hawks today?” “I don’t know, he’s been like this a lot recently.” “Maybe he’s in love?” “Who knows?”

On the seventh day in a row of not being able to see you, Hawks had had enough. “I’m taking the day off!” He exclaimed, hands slamming on his desk, “Don’t you dare follow me.”

His sidekicks were visibly confused but decided it would be best to not push the issue. “Okay, see you later Hawks.”

Keigo showed up on your rooftop once more, and you greeted him with a smile.

“Hello Keigo, how have you been?”

“Good, well sort of, I’ve missed you this past week.”

You chuckled, you found yourself doing that a lot in the man’s presence. “I missed you too.”

His wings puffed, “Well I should hope so, I would have been wounded if you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes and went to go get the tea. “I’ll be back.”

Keigo was restless in his seat until you returned, if there was anything he had realized in the week away from you, it was that he couldn’t stand to be away from you for another second. He sucked in a breath at the realization, was he? Was the playboy heartthrob Keigo Takami really in love with someone?

He chuckled to himself, though he had gained the reputation of a playboy, he’d never gone on a date with anyone. He’d never let himself be vulnerable like that before, could he… could he maybe be that vulnerable with you? It was true that he had missed you, but did that mean he was in love? Or was it more like the way you miss a friend you haven’t seen in a while?

The area was foggy to him, he hadn’t had many friends or any lovers, so he didn’t have much to compare it to.

You returned to find Keigo staring into the distance with a smile on his face.

“Did something good happen?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, I think so.”

The time passed as it usually did, you chatted and drank your iced tea together, scooting closer together until your knees were touching. As the stars began to appear, you braced yourself for him leaving but instead, he was giving you that familiar look, the look he gave when he had a burning question but he was unsure of how to ask it.

“What’s up? You can tell me what’s on your mind you know.”

Keigo swallowed, “Do you trust me?”

Without missing a beat you nodded, “With my life.”

“Would you like to go on a flight with me?”

His wings were puffed slightly behind him, you could tell he was nervous about asking you this. He had never taken anyone flying outside the context of saving them or out of convenience, so this was a big step in terms of his vulnerability.

To his delight, your eyes shone, “Really?! You’d take me?”

He smiled, “Yes.”

It was beautiful, the way excitement lit up your face, you resembled the sun in that moment.

“Alright, stand in front of me, back to me.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands were becoming sweaty, would that be a problem? Would he be able to feel the way your heart was pounding? There was no time to think too hard about it because his arms were wrapping around you.

“Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

He took off and you shut your eyes tight, too scared to open them at first.

“You can open your eyes, you know.”

Slowly you opened them and gasped, it was beautiful up here; you were further above the city lights than you usually were up on your roof.

The wind felt nice in your hair as you raced along, Keigo could probably feel your heartbeat, but you were too elated to care. The sky was freeing, it was an amazing feeling, and somehow you knew you’d miss a part of your soul when your feet touched the ground again.

“Is this how you get to feel all the time?”

Keigo laughed, you could feel it rumbling through your back.

“Pretty great isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

You wished you could stay forever like that, floating in the sky, wind in your face, warm arms around you, holding you close.

Oh. Oh was that what this was? Were you in love? Or did you just want to spend more time with a pro hero, your favorite pro hero?

Either way, once he left for the night you’d have much to think about.

You landed lightly back on your roof, and Keigo caught you when your legs began to wobble.

“The first time back on the ground is always a little rough, sorry.”

You smiled, “No worries. I’m glad you’re here to show me the ropes.”

Keigo was glad you couldn’t see the massive blush on his face.

You turned to face him once you felt stable enough to stand and you both swallowed uncomfortably as you looked into each other’s eyes.

A stray piece of hair had fallen into Keigo’s face and you gently reached up to tuck it behind his ear.

You both pulled away quickly, looking at anywhere but each other.

“Goodnight Y/N.” “Goodnight Keigo.”

There was the rustling of feathers as he took off, and you gathered up the glasses and pitcher from earlier in the evening.

The ceiling was infinitely more interesting that night than sleeping as your mind raced with thoughts. How would you know you were in love? How would you know if he loved you back? You didn’t want to believe all the rumors that he was a playboy, but what if they were true? If so, was your time together just a fling? You desperately hoped not, you’d grown quite fond of Keigo as of late, and missed him when he was gone. What were all these nights awake missing him, if not love?

Enji Todoroki awoke to the sound of someone pounding on his front door. Bleary-eyed he opened the door to find Hawks standing there. He grew instantly more awake, “Hawks? Is there an emergency?”

“Not really, but seeing you in your pajamas is quite amusing.”

The door was almost slid shut in his face but Hawks caught it with a hand. “Wait! There is something actually, not an emergency per se but I do have a question I’d like to ask.”

The door started sliding with more force.

“Please! You’re the only one I can turn to about this.”

The door stopped, then slid open fully.

“Fine, come inside.”

Enji put on more comfortable clothes and joined Keigo in the living room.

“So what is this about?”

Keigo explained the situation, and Enji’s expression grew more and more annoyed the more he spoke.

“So you want to know if you’re in love? I’m not exactly the best person to ask about this.”

Keigo sighed, “I know, but you’re the only one I felt I could ask.”

“Well, how do you feel when you’re with this person?”

Keigo’s wings puffed out excitedly, “I feel great! I really like talking with Y/N and they seem interested in me as a person rather than just a hero.”

“And how do you feel when you’re away from Y/N?”

Keigo’s wings visibly deflated and the corners of Enji’s mouth twitched up slightly.

“That’s all the answer I need. I’d say you’re in love.”

Enji stood and started escorting Hawks to the door.

“Bring them flowers or something next time you see them.”

Hawks turned to him with a beaming smile, “Thank you so much!”

“Yes yes. Now get out of my house, and if you ever come back here at this hour without an actual emergency, I’ll roast you alive.”

The door shut with a slam but Keigo was too elated to care. He had got the confirmation he needed, he was in love. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

The next day Hawks labored over what he could give you; did you like jewelry? Would flowers be too cheesy? He wasn’t the best at baking cookies but maybe he should try? He wandered the jewelry store forever, wings cumbersome in the small space.

Finally, he settled on a necklace with a simple sun pendant and tucked it into a box in his pocket.

When he landed on your rooftop he seemed more nervous than usual.

“Is something wrong Keigo?”

“No not at all, in fact, something good happened.”

“Oh?” You were curious now, what could have happened to make him so happy?

He gave you that signature wink and cheesy smile, “I get to spend the evening with you after all.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes, Keigo was certainly a flirt when he wanted to be.

The evening passed much like the others, but Keigo’s demeanor was different than usual.

“Hey,” he said, as the stars began to appear in the sky, “I kind of… got you something.”

You blinked, “You did?”

He nodded with a bashful look you hadn’t seen on him before.

“Could you turn around and close your eyes?”

You turned, wondering what you could possibly be receiving from the winged hero.

You felt a pair of arms circle around you and something was laid around your neck, a necklace you realized. Keigo’s gloved hands fumbled with the clasp and he cursed.

“Hold on, sorry could you hold this?”

You held the necklace in place as he took his gloves off and clasped it around your neck.

You took the sign to open your eyes and looked down at the charm around your neck, it was a beautiful sun pendant, simple yet so elegant, and definitely something you could see Keigo picking out.

“Oh my, it’s beautiful but what is it for?”

Keigo drew in a long breath as if he was gearing up for something.

“I was going to ask if I could be your boyfriend?”

You choked in surprise, “Boyfriend? What brought this on?”

Keigo’s brows furrowed, the look on his face a mixture of hurt and surprise.

“What do you mean what brought this on? I-- I thought…” He trailed off, he hadn’t expected this outcome at all.

“I thought this was a fling, us hanging out! I didn’t know--” The word just had been omitted from your statement, but it still hung in the air between you.

He cut you off, his wings puffing out behind him, “A fling? Is that all you thought this was?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You stuttered and he chuckled darkly,

“Don’t be, at least now I get to see who you really are.”

The words stung almost as much as him flying away, leaving you on the roof, fingers clutching the necklace that hung around your neck.

Keigo didn’t show up for days after that, and you regretted every second of it. How could you have been so stupid? Of course, this was more than just a fling, you were quite literally flying head over heels for him.

Hawks’ sidekicks could tell something was bothering him. His wings seemed less perky than they had been, and he hadn’t left early or taken any work off at all, and it was obvious he had been crying. He rested his elbows on his desk, tissues scattered across the floor. His last interaction with you played over and over in his head, he was hurt that you appeared to believe the rumors about him, that he was just a playboy incapable of commitment. And maybe that was true, the commitment part at least; but that was only because he had never been vulnerable and not been hurt because of it.

The outcome had not been what he was expecting at all, but the more he thought about it, the more he wished he had waited to spring such a thing on you. Maybe he had rushed into this, he hadn’t really stopped to consider your feelings about the situation, he’d just assumed. The last comment he made echoed in his mind and made him cringe, could he really face you after saying such a thing? He wanted to, to tell you how sorry he was, to tell you that if you couldn’t love him now, the way he was, he would wait for you. He’d wait because you were worth waiting for, and he couldn’t see himself loving anyone else after he had fallen for you.

Taking a deep breath you walked out into the rooftop garden and taped the note you’d written onto the table where you always sat with Keigo. You wouldn’t stay to see if he read it, or if he even showed up, instead, you’d go back to your apartment, wrap yourself in a blanket and watch crappy romance movies for the rest of the night.

Keigo landed on the roof, flowers in hand, heart sinking when you were nowhere to be found. A piece of paper blowing in the wind caught his eye and his heart leapt when he saw it was a note from you to him. He’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

Dear Keigo,

If I’m even still allowed to call you that. I wanted to apologize for the other night. You caught me off guard. Can we talk? I’d like that a lot. Feel free to knock on my door, I’ll be waiting.”

The note made him smile as he realized you never told him your apartment number. “Silly Y/N.”

He flew down to the bottom floor tucking the note into his pocket. He awkwardly made his way into the building and over to the reception desk.

The receptionist looked at him with a mixture of shock and awe as he stood in front of him. “Uh, hi. Could you tell me which apartment is Y/N L/N’s?”

The receptionist scrambled to flip through the address book. “Are you the boyfriend?” Keigo smiled, a sad pang going through his chest “Just a friend. At least I think so. Anyway, not important. Thank you.”

Once he knew which apartment was yours, he rode the elevator up to the 25th floor. He stopped outside apartment B, unsure of whether he should do this. He knocked one time and there was the sound of running footsteps toward the door. You flung it open, revealing a surprised Keigo standing there.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You said sheepishly, inviting him inside.

Keigo smiled softly, “Well, it took me a bit. You didn’t write down which apartment was yours.”

Recognition dawned on your face and you closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Oops.”

Keigo held out the flowers and you took them gently, setting them on the kitchen counter. The awkward silence set in almost immediately.

“Can we talk?” You said at the same time.

“You go ahead.” “No, you.”

“Let’s take turns.” “Okay.”

Keigo cleared his throat, “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

You shifted awkwardly in place, “I do too.”

“I’m sorry for springing the boyfriend question on you so soon. I should have asked your opinion or waited longer.”

“I’m sorry for what I said, it was a knee-jerk reaction from my surprise. I guess I never thought that you’d be interested in me that way.”

Keigo swallowed thickly, the words he wanted to say sticking in his throat. You smiled, he often got that look on his face when he wanted to say something.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know. I just want to make sure what I want to say comes out right.”

Keigo paused, taking a deep breath, “I want to tell you that it’s okay. It’s okay if you don’t love me back. I know I’m not perfect, and I suck at commitment, but not for the reasons you think. And I want you to know that I’ll wait for you.” Tears began to well in both of your eyes as he spoke, “I’ll wait for you, even if the day you love me back never comes because you’re worth waiting for. I would sooner die than fall in love with anyone else.”

He reached up with a gloved hand to wipe his eyes and was shocked to feel you grab his hand.

“Ask me again.”

He blinked, fixing you with a watery gaze. “What?” His voice sounded croaky through his tears.

“I said ask me again, to be my boyfriend.”

He blinked again slower this time, “Okay, Y/N, will you take me, Keigo, to be your boyfriend?”

You smiled through your own tears and squeezed his hand. “Yes, yes the answer will always be yes.” You laughed as he pulled you into a soft hug.

“Did you really have to word it like a marriage proposal though?”

Keigo chuckled, you could feel it in your chest as you pressed against him. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

You laughed and wiped each other’s tears away.

You pulled away after a long moment, hands still intertwined.

“Would you like some iced tea?”

“I would like some very much.”

This evening was spent much like all the others, except this time you showed him how to make the tea, and you sat on your couch instead of rooftop lawn chairs.

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bnha x reader #hawks fluff #hawks angst #aurora borealis #dwarf planet #dwarf planet music

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zinzinina · 3 years

Text

Unforming

Pairing - Bodhi Rook x F!Reader Rating - Explicit 18+ Word Count - 2.8k A/N - Just an extremely short, super mopey and indulgent oneshot feat. Bodhi Rook who, honestly, is the most underappreciated man in Star Wars and that’s the hill I’m prepared to die on. Not tagging anybody because I am v. aware this one is... uh, kinda niche and probs not for everyone. x

CW: Smut, angst, descriptions of anxiety.

Smoke curls slowly over both your heads as you watch him sketch, fingers quick, black staining the creases at each joint and in a thin semicircle under his nails. Your uniforms are crumpled together in an undignified tangle on the floor, turned inside out, the underside of the embroidered Imperial sigils visible.

You draw in another deep pull, the marcan herb lightening your head and hazing the glowpanels above until the tiny cabin feels shrouded. Bodhi’s hair is messy, long pieces loosened from the knot at the back of his head and hanging into his face as he works. There’s still a faint line of indentation around his temples from his welding goggles; now looped over the edge of a shelf near the door. He distractedly flicks a black strand from his eyes, leaving a thin smudge of ink high on his cheekbone. He’d been so excited to show you the acquisition, demanding you feel the texture against your lips, adamant that fingertips alone would only miss the subtlety in the grain.

“It’s paper. Actual paper, not that reconstituted adesote shit.”

“It’s beautiful. Oh, Maker, it even smells good. Where did you…?”

“I had another big win. A tipoff from Celfos, he knows a guy.”

You’d had to bite your tongue. Betting on the odupiendo races has cost him more than it’s returned over the months you’ve known him, but he already knows how you feel about it. And tonight is precious. You don’t want to poison the time you have with an argument.

Now, watching him, you’re filled with melancholy. The sheet is draped low around his lean hips, revealing the fine dark lines of his tattoos marked out like shadows on his ribs. He leans back against the wall, head curved down. He has the loveliest eyelashes, you think. The kind any girl would kill for. His gaze darts up and he catches you watching him, a self-conscious smile lifting one side of his lips.

“Do you want to sit up here? I’ll show you what I’m working on.”

Moving carefully so you don’t jostle him, you shift until you're pressed against his side. He reaches two inky fingers to snag what’s left of the smoking herb from your lips, pinching it between his teeth as you look on. The sketch is only rough, but you can already see the curves and valleys and deeper dusked lines of a walled city overlooking rolling hills. Something in the shape of the hills looks soft, and as you watch him outline the strange wind-lifted drag of a rise, you realise they’re dunes of sand.

“Is that Jedha City?”

He nods absently, hand curled into a loose fist as he points out a particular building with his smallest finger, other hand returning your cigarro to your lips.

“That’s the square—there, the marketplace. They’d hold school here if it wasn’t too cold outside. This whole section was just temples. See the lines from the balcony? My mum would hang her washing there.”

His quarters are small and cluttered with sketches on every surface; most on yellow, crinkled archival plastic sheets or panels ripped out of insulation. You remember the day he’d suffered a crazed lapse of self control and pocketed several canisters of luxurious Quarren ink from an officer’s shipping chest. And like every one of his small acts of defiance, he’d spent the following week in a state of paranoid terror, waiting for a squad of troopers to kick his door down with an interrogator droid, edgy and defensive.

You turn your head to the side, resting your cheek against his chest and feeling the vibrations of his heart, so often quickened and alert, now slow and steady.

His hand stills, and he drags his gaze from the drawing to you, blinking several times as he emerges from the depths of memory.

“How much is left?” you murmur, tilting your chin toward the landscape in his hands.

He shakes his head, easing his arm from between your bodies to rest on the other side of your waist, tucking you close.

“Some. I don’t get to see much when I’m picking up the shipments. Don’t want to, to be honest.”

You consider this, stretching down to stub the butt in your hand out on the sleeve of your coveralls.

“Are you fucking kidding?” he startles, arm reached out to stop you.

“Are burns not regulation anymore?” you grin, teasing him. “It’s fine. They have thousands of these things in storage. I’ll just grab a new one. You’re too careful.”

“Ha. You’re not careful enough,” enunciating the second syllable, teeth cutting the “uff” into his lip.

You roll your eyes, carefully lifting the stylus and paper from his fingers, laying them beside the bed. “What are they going to do, send me back to reconditioning? Again? I’ll leave. I’ll go to Gorse, find a job with the mining guild. I get along just fine with Ugnaughts anyway.”

His answer is laced with sarcasm. “Oh, yeah. I forgot we had that option, just free to go whenever we feel like it.”

It’s just a little bit too tender to joke about, considering your current positions.

“There’s more than one type of freedom,” you remind him, and you watch the muscles in his temples flex as he clenches his narrow jaw, eyes dropping back down to his hands.

You slip out from under the sheets, sliding off the side of the bed and padding over to the scratched little plastoid table beside the fresher door. Taking a tepid sip of water from the carafe there, you can feel his gaze on your legs as you stand in your underwear. It’d become habitual when you came to Bodhi’s cabin after work to both strip out of your hot, oil-stained uniforms and crawl under the covers together, not necessarily doing anything right away. Just getting comfortable, shedding your filthy Imperial skins, breathing each other in. Wholly unobserved by anyone but each other, it feels like you cease to exist for the rest of the galaxy.

He’s looking at you now with that face, the one that first made you unable to walk away from him, his eyes impossibly huge and soft, shadowed by the long, straight edge of his nose, and you just about melt. You take a steadying breath.

“I have to tell you something.”

Some line of tensity in your voice makes his curled hand twitch where it rests on his knee, and you’re already regretting what you have to do.

“They’re moving me. Tomorrow. They’re starting to shift the whole division in stages, junior engineers first. Half of us are getting send to Eadu, the others… They want us onsite for the start of the array testing. It’s getting close. Maybe another standard year at the most. Word is, the higher-ups are getting impatient. They’re already over budget.”

He’s looking at you like he’s waiting for the punchline, full brows slightly raised, lips parted as he blinks.

“But—but you were due for leave. They’d already approved it.”

You hate yourself for the lie, even as you work to form it. “I… I tried so hard to get out of it. But… you know. I’m just not important enough to get to make any decisions.”

The quiet chime of the facility’s cycle change is distantly audible as you fold your arms, a hand pressed to your own neck.

He finally manages to speak, still that protective edge of acerbic bitterness in his tone, the one you recognise from whenever he’s trying not to appear nervous.

“You’re more important than me. A droid could do my job.”

“No. You’re a better pilot than any fucking droid. The only reason you’re hauling cargo instead of dying out there in a TIE is because you can think for yourself. That’s not an attribute they look for in their coffin jockeys.”

He hasn’t moved a muscle, quick dark eyes still scanning your face. You creep closer, raised up on your knees tentatively, facing him on the bed. There’s a tight little twist to his lips, and his gaze darts away, considering his own hands, unfreezing and touching his blackened fingers one by one to his thumbs. The gesture is one you’ve seen before, when he’s had a bad shift; the time purrgils nearly wiped out his entire shipment outside of the Hydian jump point, or whenever his smart mouth got him into trouble, poorly-stifled comments attracting disciplinary visits from a site overseer. Whenever the anxious tics became too much, his restless hands needed to be busy. Drawing, working, smoking, anything. Now, you lay your own smaller fingers over his.

“Look at me.”

He does, and you nearly wish you hadn’t asked. You’re betraying him. You’re leaving him here, alone, surrounded by these people, when he was just starting to get it under control.

His eyes are brimming, wild as his gaze darts between your eyes. “What am I gonna do, if you’re not here…? If I can’t calm down, if I can’t get a hold of it.”

You hold his face hard between your hands, your fingers careful as you whisper to him.

“You can. You’re so fucking brave, Bo. A trillion times braver than me. I know you are. And… they probably won’t let any comms out of the construction zone. But you won’t be alone. Find Galen, he’s the head of my department. Talk to him when I’m gone. He’s… not like the rest of them. He’s a good person. He’ll help you. I promise.”

You draw yourself up, pressing your lips to his, feeling the scruff of his pointed chin against your skin. He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing slowly, matching your rhythm as you break your contact and hold still. You run your fingers up the back of his neck, feeling the velvet of the close-shorn underside of his hair. Trying to guide him with each of your own inhalations, your sadness settles low as a stone.

It takes a long time before his eyes open again, and in them, that resolve.

Bodhi always called himself a coward, resentful and ashamed of his body’s disobedience, when his own breathing would choke him with its intensity, chest seized with clawing wrongness in the most mundane of settings. He’d cover it with irritability, the kind that people misinterpreted, but which you'd recognised as self-preserving. Something he could never see, would never recognise about himself; his ability to somehow figure out what the right thing was, despite his fear, made him the toughest person you knew. It’s the only thing you can cling to now: the hope that one day he’ll work out why you needed to do this.

“Once it’s finished, you can transfer back out,” he tells you, and it pierces deep. You can’t tell him. He isn’t ready to know. Not yet.

“Sure,” you respond, all you can think to say, and his hands are on your lower back, drawing you closer.

He curls his fingers, stroking the clean back of his first knuckle gently along the line of your jaw, following the curve of your neck down to your shoulder. You shiver at the lightness of the touch, barely a breeze on the fine down of your cheek.

You let yourself settle down into a kneel, straddling his thighs as you sit on your own feet. Your hands are light on his prominent collarbones, tracing the dark lines underneath the skin. Watching you, he raises his chin, catching your lips with his own.

There’s an uncharacteristic intensity in his kiss, and as he drags your bottom lip into his mouth you hum, curving over him, pressing yourself down onto his lap.

You let your fingers drift over the lean, rangy expanse of his body, knowing even with your eyes shut where each river of ink lies to follow. Memorised already, the hair dusted below his navel, the flat planes of his abdomen. He exhales into your lips, the herby bitterness of lingering marcan passing between you as you roll yourself down, feeling him hardening as he arches his neck up, deepening his hold on your lips.

You thread the fingers of your right hand through his, clasping yourselves together as you flex your thigh muscles to raise and lower yourself, slow and intentional. Ink forgotten, he drags his calloused, elegant fingers up your side, searching, marking your skin.

You pull back, breaking the kiss only long enough to free your legs, your lips swollen. He helps you drag your underwear off in a graceless fumble, throwing aside the standard-issue base sheets, already amess with black smudges.

He drags his face from yours and, bending, presses his lips to the gap between your breasts, hands cupping your ribcage, thumbs rough on your nipples. You brace yourself on his shoulders, the fine dip of each muscle shadowed shallowly under your hands as you ease his cock from the waistband of his pants, trying not to be too rough with your dry, demanding fingers. He rolls up into your hold, unconcerned and encouraging as he leans up, trying to ease you backwards.

Too restless to wait, you stretch up and dip a finger inside yourself, spreading your arousal over the head of his cock before you position yourself over him.

A knee on either side of his waist, you take him inside slowly, your lack of preparation necessitating a pause, and your thighs tauten from the effort of your control. Breaths hitching in tandem, you let your head roll down, savouring the ache in your rending.

You bottom out and shudder, clutching at every part of him you can reach, scratching accidentally at his cheek, a line across the gold of his skin reddening. You try and fail to control your own pace as lift and sink back onto him heavily, the sharpness of your movement making his grip on your waist tighten.

A twitch in your thighs betrays how messily conflicted you are; vacillating between wanting to sanctify every moment of this and needing to move. He recognises your frustration and brushes his ink-blackened thumb from the edge of your lip to your cheek, holding you still, shifting his other hand under your thigh and encouraging your movements to slow. He catches your gaze and holds it, soft eyes creasing at the edges, the faintest sheen on his brow as he traces the edge of your jaw. Lips quirked sadly, he breathes against you, shaking his head.

“We’ve got time.”

It’s enough to make you weaken. Knowing, as he doesn’t, that it just isn’t true. Seated with him inside you, you pause, peppering kisses on the dark arches under each eye. His exhaustion is made sharp by the fine structure of his face, the ash beneath the warmth of his skin. It’s been far too long that you’ve both been away from any source of natural light.

Trying to fall into some semblance of coordination, he meets each arch of your hips, liquid-bright eyes fluttering closed as he tips his head against the wall, the tied knot of his hair pressed back. And there it is, pieces slotting together as you let your body take over from your scattered, grief-spiked thoughts.

Rolling against him in perfect rhythm, waves meeting and withdrawing from the shore of each breath.

Your fingers hold tight to the back of his neck as you kiss him hard, clumsy as your teeth hit his, trying to imprint a copy of yourself here so you can stay with him long after tonight. His tongue slides messy against yours as he lifts your thighs, dragging his fingerprints into the flesh and angling up into you.

Your eyes fly open, your gasp stuttered into his mouth as he meets each of your urgent thrusts, his brow creased, circling higher together.

A hard warm twinge claws up the insides of your thighs and it feels so good, but you don’t want to let go. You aren’t ready yet, despite the desperation to grind down deeper. You want this to stretch on, and on, like you could delay everything else just by denying yourself this release. But as you shudder around him you realise it’s already too late, your body rebelling as he encourages you. Helpless, your fingers find your clit, wrenching yourself higher as you ride his cock.

I’m sorry, you think with all your might, watching the fine veins of his closed eyelids as he gasps, both your bodies beginning to seize. Forgive me, chests pressed so close it’s impossible to tell whose heartbeat is being led by whose.

Your climax ropes down his own, and as your cunt pulses around him, gathering him deep, you feel his answering release rip through him. Your kiss devolves into an artless, parted-mouthed press of wet breaths.

Muffled, there’s the sound of an announcement from the command deck, the voice tinny through the layers of wall and pinned art. It’s still and close in the dim space. You stay in the same position long after he softens inside you, slowly pressing your lips to his neck, his eyebrow, his ears; anywhere you can reach.

Two dark shapes fitted together, edges bleeding away until you’re indistinguishable from the rest of the shadows in the little room.

#bodhi rook #sw smut #sw fanfic #bodhi rook x reader #softboi bodhi #absolutely nobody asked for this #i just have a lot of feelings

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illyaana · 3 years

Text

Squiggles - Oikawa Tooru

Thanks to @pocky-writes for this collab! It was so fun to do~ Check out all the other writers involved in the collab here ヾ(•ω•`)o

Tags: Oikawa's POV, Angst, Minor Fluff, Cursing, Kissing, SFW, Manga Spoiler (Oikawa and Iwaizumi's future jobs)

Synopsis: You entered Oikawa's life - and it hasn't been the same ever since. (If I give anymore, it'll be spoilers TwT) (I also named Oikawa's sis Miho-)

Word Count: 4334

⋯⋯ ⫍ SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Liked my writing? Do you want a drabble specifically made for you about your love life with a character of your choosing? Check out my 50 followers event over here!

All stories are basically a squiggly line - it has ups and downs with multiple loops in random spots. Some parts might be thicker or shorter than others, but all points of the story make up a giant, huge squiggly line that either brings you joy or sadness. I wanted my story to be as thick and long as possible - to outshine all the other squiggles the world has to offer. It was going to be the best squiggle ever until you came along and made it loopier and uneven.

I remember the first day you came into our class so vividly.

I had rushed to the school to copy Iwa-chan’s homework. The Kitagawa Daiichi blazer I wore was soaked in sweat thanks to me running a few blocks in several minutes. Of course, Iwa was in the classroom, waiting for school to start. He had rolled up his sleeves and was reading the literature component assigned to us - the very book I never touched ever since volleyball practices began.

“You are of a different breed, Oikawa,” Iwa-chan mumbled as he passed his book to me, “This is the last time you’re doing this.”

No, it isn’t.

“Yes, sir.”

I pulled out my book and began to move at top speed, hoping I would finish before class began.

That’s when you opened the door, breaking my concentration.

You were glowing. The school blazer seemed so big on you - as if someone with a bigger physique gave it to you - but you look so precious in it. You had a jump in your step, a wide smile plastered on your face. Your hair looked so soft even from a mile away. You seemed so at peace with everything - even when you entered a new school.

You carried yourself with such confidence it scared me.

I loved being the confident one, the hot one, the cheerful one - yet you stole those roles from me the second you walked into the school campus.

I didn’t know what I felt; was it inferiority or was it just pure admiration? Maybe a combination of both?

All of this… It was so new to me.

I was always surrounded by those who were eager for my approval - to be part of my posse and be connected to me in some way, but I just wanted to be around you. It was the first time I ever took an interest in anyone excluding my volleyball team.

It’s weird, isn’t it? The feeling of warmth rushing through your skin, but your throat just feels tight - it doesn’t want you to say anything you would regret, so it tries to hold you back. Your palms sweat and become clammy, goosebumps rise on your skin - it is so freeing yet restricting.

I wanted to come and welcome you to the school - maybe take you around the school grounds, show off a bit at the gym, find out who you are as a person - if I got lucky, even get your phone number.

“ ‘kawa, are they new? I feel like I’ve never seen them before…” Iwaizumi asked, pulling on my rolled-up sleeve.

Of course, this had to happen, didn’t it?

Iwaizumi tried to cover his red face with his arms, but he was failing miserably. His forehead began to sweat, a trail of water dripping down his chin. His chocolate eyes glowed just like your skin - so much so you could see the hazel flecks within them. His whole arm was covered in raised goosebumps, just like mine.

He was attracted to you.

“I think they are,” I replied, hiding my feelings with a smile, “Why Iwa-chan? Oh my god Iwa, you’re blushing!”

Iwaizumi threw a book to my face, earning a groan from me.

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” he says, blushing in a deeper red, “...but yeah, I think I do.”

“Well, if you want them to swoon for you just like how almost all the girls of the school do for me, I can help you. Just with the daily fee of milk bread during recess, I can turn your single ass into a full-fledged bachelor!” I say, trying to lighten up the mood.

“I'll buy you milk bread for lunch, either way,” he mumbled.

“See? It’s basically free, isn’t it? The best part of it all; it comes with a free gift! A box of milk every day so that you can grow taller-” Book number two found its place on my forehead once again.

“You’re such an idiot,” he says midst chuckling, “Thanks for the offer, Tooru. I think I’ll do this by myself, though.”

“Ok, then! Just so you know, the offer is always on the table,” I smirk, teasing the shorter male even more, “Don’t forget the milk.”

“I am never buying you anything ever again.”

Classes went on as usual, but I couldn’t focus at all.

I kept on staring at you from my seat - enjoying every single thing you did. I saw how you’d raise your shoulders in frustration when you couldn’t understand a question, how you’d bite the end of your pencil when you were focusing on the class, how you’d play with your fingers when you were stressed - I was taking mental notes without even realizing it. I loved all the small little huffs you’d make when you’re agitated. Judging by how you were speeding through most of the questions, you seemed to be a smart student.

I kept on playing small scenarios that I would do to get your attention.

Maybe I’d ask you a question and act like I couldn’t understand the whole topic so that you could tutor me, or I should just ask you about your opinions on the essay topic we discussed in class, or I could tease you about that small thing you did in front of the classroom when the teacher wasn’t looking.

But I would never do that to Iwaizumi.

My mind replayed that small scene of him blushing just at the mere glance of you. If he could, he would’ve already gushed about you to me - tell me all the things I already knew just by looking at you. He’d go on and on about how you squinched your nose when you drank that hot drink a bit too early and burnt your tongue.

His squiggle was already slowly moving around you, making a loop fitted for you and you alone - and I will happily watch from the sidelines when you two finally become a thing.

“Welcome back, Tooru!” My sister said from the kitchen, “Give me a minute, I’m helping mom prepare lunch.”

I placed my bag in front of my room and headed to the kitchen.

“Don’t make poison, please!” I tease her, enjoying the annoyed expression on her face.

“Tooru!” Mom sighed, “We’re inviting our new neighbors for dinner today. Go shower and get ready.”

I stuck my tongue out at my sister, earning an anger-filled hum from my mother. I ran to my room and soon headed to the shower to get ready.

Slinging the white towel on my shoulder, I head back to the kitchen area and set the table for the meal.

“Where are they from again?” Miho asked Mom.

“They’re apparently from Tokyo. The father passed away recently, so the mother had to bring the rest of the family to Miyagi to reduce the financial burden. Sad, isn’t it?” she replied.

“We should help them here and there,” Miho started, “We don’t need to give them money, but maybe help them get used to the city?”

I nodded, but I wasn’t present in the conversation ever since Mom mentioned Tokyo.

“Do they have a kid my age?” I ask, hoping that I’m wrong.

“I think there’s one that just transferred to your school?”

Please, don’t be who I think it is.

The doorbell rang, shaking me out of my thoughts.

I slowly headed to the door, gripping the doorknob tightly as I slowly opened the door.

I was right.

“Hello, Oikawa-san! It’s me, Y/N, from your class,” you said, a smile on your face.

“I just wanted to thank you and your family for your generous offer, but we can’t join you for dinner today,” you started, “Mom has to go get some things settled before she can come for dinner. Sorry, again…”

“What about you? Have you eaten anything yet?” My mom asked as she walked towards the door, “If you want, you can eat dinner here and bring some back for your mom.”

“Really?!” Your lips widened, “Thank you so much, aunty!”

You sat right beside me, just like Iwa-chan does when he comes over. I loved seeing you talk so comfortably with my family. I could see my mom’s adoration towards you when you talked about your life back in Tokyo. Your eyes lit up when you talked about your family - even if you were talking about your father.

You didn’t know it yet, but your presence makes my squiggle a little lighter.

“What school are you going to, Y/N?” Mom asked.

“I’m going to Kitagawa Daiichi like Oikawa-san. I am in his class, actually... “ you trail off.

“Do you want me to walk you to school? I don’t mind doing it, but Iwaizumi would be joining us too. Are you okay with that?” I ask, gripping the ends of my shirt.

For the first time in my life, I hated the fact I had to be beside Iwaizumi.

“Thanks, Oikawa-san. It means a lot,” you smiled.

I regret asking you that question.

I had to see Iwaizumi try to flirt with you.

I had to see how you’d occasionally lean your head on my shoulder when we walked to school until Iwaizumi met up with us in the middle of our walk to school.

I had to see Iwaizumi carry your bag - something I wanted to do.

I had to see Iwaizumi make small jokes to you - something I wanted to do.

I had to see you enjoy Iwaizumi’s presence - something I wanted you to only feel for me.

I had to let it happen in front of me, didn’t I?

Books and movies never compare to the real thing; to see the person you love gush over someone you love like a sibling.

But you were closest to me, not Iwa-chan.

You came to me when you had problems, not Iwa-chan.

You stayed over at my place to relax, not Iwa-chan’s.

You watched movies with me, played games with me, told secrets to me - not Iwa-chan.

Your squiggle intertwined with mine more than Iwa-chan’s.

“Tooru,” you said as you played with the rogue strands of my hair as your head laid on my lap, “Do you want to go out on a trip?”

“What? Why?”

“We’re graduating, but we never had a trip together. It’s weird, isn’t it?” You say, slowly getting up.

I pushed your head back on my lap, earning a muffled squeal from you.

“It isn’t, to be honest,” I say, “...but I do like the idea.”

“So, we’re doing it?” you say as you wiggle your feet in excitement.

“Yeap. I’ll ask Iwa-chan if he wants to join,” I say as I grab my phone.

“I was kind of hoping that it would be just the two of us? I haven’t been able to talk to you without anyone intervening for a long time, and there’s a lot I wanna talk about.”

You looked at me, hoping for some reaction, but I couldn’t say anything.

If I was not friends with Iwaizumi, I would’ve said yes almost immediately.

I know I love you - ever since I saw you, I have.

But Iwaizumi deserves someone amazing like you.

I don’t.

“Tell me, then! I don’t think Mom’s coming home anytime soon and Miho is working right now, so there isn’t anyone who’d disturb us now,” I say through gritted teeth.

I felt your disappointment when you sighed and moved to lie down on my bed.

“I guess I’ll tell you another day.”

I felt your squiggle moving away from me - moving on without mine.

Soon, our one-week trip to Tokyo began.

Thanks to months and months of pestering, our parents let us go by ourselves to the city you grew up in.

I could see everything in your eyes, thanks to your stories about this place. The small, quaint shops, the smell of freshly made Taiyaki at the side of the road, the small kids running on the pavement while being chased by angry parents - all of it.

“Oikawa!” you patted my shoulder, “That’s the bakery I talked about last time. You know, the one with amazing cheese tarts? Oh, that’s where my dad gave me my first cup of coffee!”

Iwaizumi chuckled as he focused on the road, admiring your love for the city.

“Why are you laughing, pine cone hair?” You tease Iwaizumi, trying to get more reactions from him.

“Nothing! You sound cute, that’s all,” he said as he focused on the road.

“Oh, really~?” You move closer to Iwaizumi and whisper something in his ear, making him blush instantly.

There it is.

That icky feeling I hate.

Why did it come now? I was with Y/N and Iwaizumi - the people I care about the most.

Go away.

Get out.

I don’t need you.

“Well, I’ll just chaperone Oikawa then, Hajime. Have fun all by yourself in a huge city you don’t know well,” you say, teasing him even more.

Hajime.

They said Hajime - not Iwaizumi.

“Geez, get a room, you two.”

“Sad I’m taking your husband away, Tooru?”

“The fuck, Y/N!” Both Iwa-chan and I scream.

You laugh as you lean back into the backseat.

“What? You both are an old couple,” you begin, “Oikawa is the flamboyant one and Iwaizumi is the man that’s only gay for Oikawa and actually thinks before doing something.”

“Did everyone think I’m gay for Oikawa?” Iwa says under his breath.

“Yeap,” you reply, “Many girls were sad, to be honest. I kept on telling them you’re straight, but they didn’t listen,” you shrug.

“And me?” I ask.

“You were labelled as the hot pansexual, lucky you,” you reply with an eye roll.

“Why did no one tell me…” Iwaizumi said to himself, worried.

“Honey~,” I began teasing the ‘pinecone’.

“Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa.”

“ ‘Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa’ - why don’t you give an actual nice nickname for the brunette over here,” you ask him, playing with the stressed driver.

“No.”

“Do it or I’m calling you pinecone for the rest of your life.”

“No.”

“Do it or I’ll tell them-” I say before getting cut off by Iwaizumi himself.

“Prettykawa.”

“Holy shit, Y/N,” I wiped my fake tears, “He called me pretty! Darling~”

“Oh my god, Oikawa,” you say, laughing as I hug Iwaizumi’s arm.

Our squiggles were intertwined and in a good way - that’s all that mattered.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi looked at me with a serious face, “I think I am going to confess to them tonight.”

Wait, you are?

Please don’t.

Don’t take them away from me.

I need them.

Iwaizumi, please don’t.

“Finally! It’s about time you made your move - I think they like you too, so you have a shot.”

It’s true - I see how they stare at you.

Their eyes are filled with admiration, lips fixed in a soft smile, their hands grazing your cheek - they love you as much as you love them, Iwaizumi.

“Thanks for supporting me, Tooru. It really means a lot to me,” he says as he hugged me, “Thanks for being my best friend.”

I haven’t been a good friend, Iwa.

I fell for the same person.

I want to steal them from you so badly, but I can’t bring myself to hate you.

I want to hate you so bad, but I can’t.

This feeling… I hate it.

“Thanks for being mine, too.” I smiled, but the smile never reached my eyes.

You’re taking them away from me, Iwaizumi.

You could’ve gotten anyone else, but you took them away from me.

I don’t want to feel this - this hatred growing within, yet here I am, cursing you in my head the minute I see you.

“Go! Why are you wasting time?” I say, pushing you towards the door.

I saw the smile you gave me as you ran to her room.

You are such an amazing person, Iwa-chan.

You can care for someone who deeply hates you.

I saw how they were basically draped around you for the next few days. They looked so happy just to be beside you.

Each day, their eyes spoke stories of love for you, Iwa. They used to come over to my place and gush about you every day, like a ritual.

You’re so fucking lucky, Iwaizumi. This isn’t fair.

They’d go on and on about your physique, your personality and the small things you’d do.

Congratulations, they finally paid attention to the things you did for them. I’m happy for you, Iwa.

I am happy for the two of you, truly.

They are truly happy.

I could’ve never done that - never.

I just wish I wasn’t walking towards the gym that day.

I saw your first kiss under that tree - the tree the three of us used to spend under while waiting for practice to start.

I saw how their hands gripped on the back of your head, pressing themselves on you. I saw how you gripped their hips oh so tightly as you showed them your passion towards them. I saw how breathless they looked the minute your lips left theirs. I saw how they grazed your chin whilst staring into your eyes in admiration.

I pictured how it would’ve been if I was in your position.

I would’ve held them tighter, pressed my forehead against theirs so that our noses would brush against each other. They’d play with the ends of my hair, going on and on about how soft each lock was like they usually do. They’d eye my lips as I stared at their soft and supple lips. I’d press the tip of my thumb on their bottom lip, enjoying the view of their parted lips made just for me and me alone. Slowly, I would kiss their cheeks, hoping for some cute reaction from them. From their cheeks, I would drag my lips to their chin, placing soft kisses here and there.

I would then press my lips against theirs, enjoying the soft noises escaping their lips.

But I never will - you’re theirs as they’re yours.

Of all places, why did you have to choose there?

I can’t come back here without thinking about that kiss now.

That icky feeling…

It’s back.

Go away.

Get out of me.

I am happy.

“Damn, Iwaizumi,” Matsun said as he approached the gym, “Y/N’s really in love with them, huh?”

“Shut it, Matsun,” Maki said, looking at me.

Of course, he’d notice.

I am in love with his friend's girlfriend, after all.

“What? He’s telling the truth; they’re so in love with each other they can’t even see that three people saw their first kiss!” I shouted, earning a growl from the black-haired male hugging Y/N.

“Out of all the times, Shittykawa…”

“You better run, he looks feral!” You shouted, laughing.

“You sure he wasn’t feral ever since he initiated that kiss? I saw that hand wandering, Iwaizumi~!” Matsukawa shouted as he ran to the gym.

“Iwaizumi isn’t innocent anymore. You aren’t part of the gang anymore man, stay back,” Hanamaki said, wiping a fake tear whilst gripping his sides, “You’ve grown up too quick, Iwa-senpai.”

“You okay, ‘kawa?” Maki said as he turned to me, rubbing my back.

“I am fine, Maki. Go ahead - go to the gym, I’ll come in a minute,” I gave him a nod as I walked to the toilet.

That day was the first day I cried over someone in school, and hopefully the last.

“Tooru… Tohru…” You mumbled.

“Yes, my name is similar to the main character’s. What about it?” I sigh.

“We should get you a cat. Who knows, you might kiss it and it’ll become a girl?” Iwa chirped.

“That’s a cat version of Princess and the Frog,” I say, annoyed.

“Stupid,” you hit Iwa’s thigh, “Get with the program.”

Iwa groaned as he rubbed his leg, “That was really painful, dumbass.”

“Tohru, he called me dumbass,” you whined.

“I am not Tohru - it’s Tooru.”

“Brown hair, all of the people around them falling in love with them, high pitched voice… that’s you,” Iwa joked.

“Major flaw in your theory - I am not a girl.”

“Alternate universe Tohru then,” you said, enjoying the banter.

“Tohru plays with animals, I play with a volleyball team.”

“How do you know she isn’t in a volleyball team? It was never specified she isn’t part of a volleyball team.”

“It’s never specified that she is part of a volleyball team,” I say, clearly annoyed by this conversation.

“I’m getting you a cat - a ginger one,” Iwa said, grabbing his phone from the side table.

“Don’t get me a cat!”

“Get him a cat, love. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll love it,” you said, leaning against Iwaizumi’s chest to see his phone screen.

“Holy shit,” you said, holding back a laugh, “He’s actually looking-”

“Iwaizumi Hajime!” I scream, making both Iwaizumi and you laugh loudly.

“I was looking at a cat meme, stupid.”

I sign out of frustration and look back at the TV screen, avoiding the mischievous couple.

I eyed the way they were sitting on the couch.

You were seated in between Iwaizumi’s legs, their back pressed against his front. Their hands played with Iwaizumi’s left hand, fiddling with his fingers as they stared at the screen in front of them. Iwaizumi wasn’t looking at the screen though - he was staring at his lover who was fully immersed in the scene unfolding in front of them. His right hand grazed their right hand, enjoying the feeling of them comfortable in his arms.

You looked happy, and that’s all that mattered.

The last episode soon finished and you looked to the ceiling, stretching your neck.

“So sad it’s over,” you said, smiling.

“At least it had a good ending. I don’t think I need to remind you how heartbroken you were when we watching Banana Fish’s-”

“Don’t remind me - I’ll cry here and now.”

You got off the couch and walked towards the kitchen to get a drink.

“So,” you plopped on the couch, leaning against Iwa, “What’s the final plan, Mr Tohru?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your life after high school, of course! What’s the plan? I know Hajime is planning to be a trainer, but you never told me what your plan is.”

Hajime.

Again with the Hajime.

Just use Iwaizumi, for fuck’s sake.

“...Tooru?”

I snap out of my thoughts. “Oh.”

“You’ve been out of it recently. You’re okay, right?” You say as you walk to sit beside me.

I chuckle, looking at your concerned face.

“I’m good - just stressed about life, that’s all. I am not so sure as to what’s the next step, but it’s going pro.”

You hug me from the side, placing your head on my shoulder.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you, now? Aren’t you scared that you might make Hajime jealous?” I tease.

“I don’t know - I just feel I need to do this, like a feeling that you might do something rash.”

I felt tears wet the side of my shirt.

My eyes darted to the sight of you, sobbing, gripping on my shirt.

“Don’t you dare forget me, okay?” You say through sniffles, “I sure as hell won’t forget you.”

I cup your face in my hands, wiping off the trailing tears.

“I won’t.”

You made a huge loop on my squiggle, Y/N - I don’t I can ever forget you.

TO: Y/N (2:30 a.m.)

It’s been so many years, Y/N.

You’ve blossomed into the amazing person I knew you’d be.

I saw Iwa-chan recently - after all, he’s training the Japan team.

I actually made it into a team - the Argentinian Volleyball team.

I kept on doubting myself, but you kept on reminding me of how good of a setter I was back in high school.

I know you’re busy being the big person in your industry - congrats on all the awards again, I keep forgetting to contact you.

If you’re down, maybe we can call? I miss your voice.

I sent the message, hoping you’d reply as fast as you used to when we were in high school.

I looked from the hotel window, trying to imagine how the scenery is back home in Miyagi.

The roaring fields, the birds flying in the sky as we walked down that small pathway, that traffic light you’d draw on while waiting for the cars to pass - I remembered it all.

I remembered it all just because you were part of it.

Funny, isn’t it? After so many years, I still think of you.

Not as my friend’s lover, but mine.

I shouldn’t have invited Iwaizumi to that trip.

I should’ve just kept you all to myself - protect you from the world.

I should’ve just kept Iwaizumi out of your life - not let him in at any point.

I should’ve just told him how I feel about you.

I tried so hard to get over you, Y/N.

I met so many other people, hoping they could fill up the hole you left when you left me for him. I had so many sour relationships just because I was comparing them to the rhetorical you that I dated. If the world had given me a second chance, I would be standing beside you - I would work to provide for you the best the world had to offer.

But in the end, your squiggle was meant to grow without mine. I had to accept it and move on, as much as it hurts.

Covid 19: Angst train :)

All reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 31

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: we’re going back to y/n’s 18th. so sorry for the 2 day delay. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N felt dizzy whenever she was surrounded by too many people, it almost felt unsafe, as if people could hurt her better if she was surrounded by others. After all, it was a sea of people with extensive knowledge in hurting someone or making them disappear without ever being known and despite living in that environment, she had a paranoid unconscious fear of being in the middle of so many people belonging to the mob, specially higher up members.

She had managed to find herself a spot in the thousand of chairs speckled around the room, watching from afar as Gwen dazzled everyone in her new Ted Baker baby pink dress meanwhile Y/N was dressed in her high school dress uniform, not really having many dresses in her wardrobe that would suit the event or that would suit her. She continued with her nose stuck in her favourite book, her brain filtering out the loud partying sounds and focusing only on the sharp words of her pages. She would’ve continued this way had it not been for a strong coughing that came close to her. Y/N lowered her book to find the source landing on a man dressed like dandy, probably in his mid 60s, holding himself up on a dark walking stick and coughing onto a monogrammed handkerchief.

- Would you like to sit? - Y/N called out for his attention, immediately getting up from the chair.

- Please, darling, don’t bother. - he replied in an accent Y/N could maybe pin point to France or maybe Belgium. Nevertheless, she moved the chair closer to where he was, a small smile on her lips. - Are you sure you don’t want to sit?

- I have good legs, I can stand. - Y/N leaned against the wall, hand gesturing towards the chair.

- What’s your name? - he questioned as he took a seat on the cushioned chair, too tired to argue with the girl telling him to sit down. She was probably right, he probably should.

- Y/N.

- Michael. I’m Genevieve’s grandfather. Mother’s side.

- I’m Genevieve’s handmaid ... Or at least in training, Daniel says my true test will come up when we go to university.

- I’m assuming you got into Cambridge too then. - he admitted and Y/N nodded, very proud of her perfect scores and the letter that had come with the mail just a few days ago. - What are you taking?

- English Literature.

- My daughter used to love to read. Would devour a whole library if she could. French, English, German, Greek ... languages didn’t really stop her.

- It must be hard for you. - his eyes seemed to focus on her eyes hidden by some mascara she had put on for the ceremony but still couldn’t completely hide the sheer beauty they seemed to hold. - Are you alright?

- Yes, you just have some very familiar eyes. It’s uncanny.

- I just got told that today. - she played with her hair, a shy smile on her berry painted lips. - They’re not very remarkable really.

- They’re remarkable enough.

To say she had spent the rest of whatever was left of the morning in the bathroom either throwing up or urinating and whenever she wasn’t in the bathroom seemingly detoxing from whatever she had consumed last night which hadn’t sat well with her, she was exhausted, sleeping in her bed and swearing to herself never to eat anything from this hotel ever again.

She swore she didn’t remember seeing anyone this sick ever since Dan’s girlfriend became pregnant. Pregnant. That thought hit her like a freight train and as quickly as she had laid down to rest, she bolted from her bed and into her suitcase, reaching for her necessaire which showed her a full pack of pads. She was certain she had gotten the pack right after her last period which she was sure had been in November. She bite on her nails, getting up, eyes glued to the pack wishing that once she blinked it would be half empty.

Shivering, she rushed over to her door, opening it to see if Elias was around and luckily he was. She was probably overreacting, she convinced herself, yet it was better to be safe than sorry.

- Are you alright, miss? - he questioned, noticing her uncharacteristic unresting look which seemed to haunt all her features.

- We need to go to a pharmacy. - she almost whispered the last word, afraid someone would connect the dots despite the pharmacy having several other things which would cater towards her. - The furthest pharmacy you know. Outside the Upper East Side.

- That wouldn’t be safe, miss.

- Please.

The bodyguard could do little to nothing to convince the young woman to stay within the city. Instead of fighting with her, both of them just got inside the car and started to drive as far away from the watchful gaze of the Upper East. Her mind was going over her biology lessons. Nausea could be related to anything such as food poisoning, flu, migraines and so on. It was probably just food poisoning or maybe a very very bad case of PMS. Nevertheless she couldn’t help but panic as she saw the safe environment of the Upper East disappear. Y/N didn’t want anyone to even dream of her buying a pregnancy test and as she reached the furthest pharmacy a car could take her to, she rushed like a bullet to the pregnancy aisle pulling one of every single brand into her shopping trolley. After a few minutes, she had at least 10 in her trolley and after avoiding several dirty looks from the people standing with her in line and the employee serving her, the handmaid returned to the car, clutching to the paper bag like a precious gem.

Once she was back in her hotel suite, she dropped the bag on her bathroom floor, going through several and several tests, placing them away from her gaze as she convinced herself that this could be almost everything other than pregnancy. She wasn’t pregnant, she couldn’t be pregnant, she tried to convince herself once more as she looked at the first pregnancy test. Two lines. Well, it could be a faulty test. Another one, two lines and the same pattern applied to all of those following the one/two line system. The other ones all showed the word pregnant and as she read the last one, she could feel whatever resolve and structure she had within her slowly erode.

Pregnant. She was pregnant. Either that or more than twenty tests were giving her false positives which she found it to be not plausible. She slide down her bathroom wall, legs folded as she stared at the wall in front of her. She was pregnant from a soon to be married man. Mr. Williams words rang in her mind, mistress. She was the mistress pregnant with the bastard. At that thought, tears started to cloud her eyes and like a scared child, she hide her face in the middle of her thighs, hoping everything would go away, hoping all her mistakes and lack of judgments were nothing but a really, really bad dream.

- Angel? - she could hear his voice followed by knocking on her door. She cleaned her eyes with the back of her hand, grabbing every single stick and stuffing them in one of the bathroom doors. Elias had probably heard her crying and warned Sebastian about it. - Angel? Y/N? Open the door, please.

- I’m going. - Y/N turned on the tap, slapping her face with cold water hoping she would look less like a mess and more presentable. Raising her face to stare into the mirror, she told herself to calm down, she told herself to forget about the tests which were hiding in one of the bathroom drawers. She was fine, she was gonna be fine and as she convinced herself once more that she was fine, another knock took her off her mind.

With a strong will, Y/N gripped the knob of her bathroom, opening the door very slowly. Sebastian was standing behind it, dressed as poshly as he normally did however a bit more relaxed with the jacket being off and his dress shirt first buttons unbuttoned. A tense look seemed to dissipate as she held the door close to her collarbone, not having it fully opened.

- Are you still sick? - his hand raised to rest against her warm cheek, caressing it with her thumb. - Elias said he heard you crying. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?

- I hate hospitals. - she lied, wishing nothing more than to go to the place which would confirm what she already knew. There was a great deal of worry and care in his baby blues, and she found herself avoiding them, afraid she would blurt out she was pregnant. - I’m fine, Sebastian, I really am.

- Okay, angel then look into my eyes and tell me you’re okay. - he picked her chin, softly pulling it up so her eyes looked into his. Even with that, she still managed to dodge his gaze. - Angel, what’s wrong?

- Nothing’s wrong, I’m just ... I’m just stressed. - she smiled tightly, hands moving from his shoulders to his elbows, letting out a breathe that seemed to have been held within her for ages. However, it came out shaky, one that made her want to return to her self wallowing state yet before she could, he had already wrapped his arms around her figure, holding her as if he was his whole entire universe which, in some way, she was. - You really needn’t worry. I’m sure you have other more important things to deal with.

- Wedding preparations will never be more important than you. - he kissed the crown of her head, getting lost in the scent of roses and lilies of her perfume. - Come on, lovely, whatever it is, it can be solved.

- No, I don’t think it can. - she mumbled against his crisp white cotton shirt, wondering if she closed her eyes tightly enough, things would seem to exist and she would wake up from the hell she had started to live in just a few minutes ago.

- Angel ... - he cupped her face. - It’s gonna be okay.

- It’s not. - she could feel her eyes water as her mind rushed through all they could do which was nothing. She was now just another pregnant mistress, the other woman. - It’s really not.

- Listen to me, angel. - he tried to remain calm but his resolve was quickly faltering as he stared at the tear tracks on her bountiful cheeks, so far from her soft and luminous smile. - We’re gonna be okay. Y/N, I ...

- Y/N! - Y/N took a step back, her head turning to the door where Gwen was standing, her gaze more on her phone than the two of them. With a sigh of relief, the handmaid let a small yes slip her lips. - Bridesmaids dress try out, come on. You’re late.

- I’m really sick today, Gwen. Can’t we just postpone it? - Y/N still was unsure if her stomach could hold anything and being forced inside a dress sounded more like modern torture than every other thing she had her do.

- You’re on your feet, clearly not sick enough besides we need to get it done today.

- Gwen, don’t be cruel. - Sebastian added.

- Shouldn’t you be trying your tux? - she fired back, almost like the whole conversation was a script only her had memorised and could now easily manipulate. - Or do you intend to look like a mess on my wedding day.

- Our wedding day. - he corrected which greatly upset Gwen. - I’m sure a few days delay won’t ruin it.

- She’s my handmaid, not yours. - Gwen gave him a sarcastic tight smile, shooting Y/N a look which made her immediately walk to her side. - Your tux better not be loose.

Y/N followed Gwen, head looking down but not before sharing an apologetic look with Sebastian. Instinctively, Y/N placed her hand in on her stomach as the two women walked into Gwen’s bedroom which seemed to have turned into an atelier with several women taking measurements and dressing other women in periwinkle dresses.

An older woman grabbed Y/N, shoving her the same periwinkle dress in her arms, ordering her to try it on. However, as Y/N pulled the zipper past her waist she found it didn’t completely zipped up. Oh no. She tried to bring both parts of the dress together so it would zip up but nothing. Her dress fit everywhere but her bust which was bigger than before.

- What’s wrong? - Gwen noticed Y/N struggling to pull the zipper up. - God, Y/N, I told you not to gain weight.

- It’s just my chest ... probably PMSing. - she lied, of course it wasn’t because she was PMSing. She wished she were, that would mean she had one less problem on her. - It’ll be fine in a week.

- It better be or you’re not attending.

Joke or no joke, she’d rather not attend it.

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inkla-kirisame · 4 years

Text

If someone was flirting with you

Context: you and your partner were having a couple time but they go for something, when they turned around, they saw a womanizer flirting with you, they also had a little revenge against them

Warnings: revenge (mostly nuclear, supernova and black hole) and language

Side note: I wanted to add Lisa, the Gunnhildr sisters, Am-, I mean, Fischl, but I didn’t have any idea of how to make them, I also wanted to add Beidou, I guess there will be a second part. Also, it not a Yandere headcanon, just jealousy and warth

Diluc

Oh, the irony....

He might have fire vision but he can and will treat that person so coldly that it could bring Snezhnaya to a second (or third) age of ice

Even Kaeya is scared of this, and knows very well not to flirt with his brother’s partner or else he would be dead

“Hold my grape juice”

He goes for something he saved for this time

The poor guy literally when to hell that day

Turns out, Diluc himself served him his strongest wine with a little surprise (read as: laxatives, some poison for rats and who knows what)

The cost of this was that (Y/N) didn’t talk to him for a long period

Extra: the guy might lost some value things that night and things that didn’t belong to him were there, he also got a visit from the Knights of favonius... by an anonymous report

Razor

Between the persons you don’t want to piss, is him, he might look sweet but with his family (or pack) he goes ballistic, with his partner is worse

When he saw someone flitting with... oh boy, he was seeing CRISMON

The next thing you know is that Razor is punching this guy in his face, not caring if he is going to kill that guy

You managed to turn him away from him, he immediately went from berserk wolf mode to worried puppy mode

You thanked him but also scolded him from that

The wolfs always haunted him when being in the forest

Venti

He was mad but managed to control himself

“(Y/N), dear, I’m so happy to see you” he said trying to hold his anger... but he was boiling inside

“A bard? Is this your fucking boyfriend?” The guy maniacally laughed “he looks like a girl!!!” Venti was about to shut him up but you were faster than him

Long story short: you broke his nose and went home with Venti

He might be the god of freedom, but this wasn’t free from his warth

The next day, his whole house ended up in the ocean and all his money ended up with the fatui as “a gift to the Tsaritsa, from B.”

The guy was loaded with moras and hated the fatui like most people, he only knew that his money and jewelry ended with them because he saw them talking about the mysterious donator

“Oh, my, did you find it out so quickly? My bad”

He turned around and saw the Anemo Archon, Barbatos, before him, but now that he looked close to him... he was that bard with the girl/boy he tried to bang

Yep, you fuck up, buddy

Every time he saw you or Venti, he would tremble and see you like the Stormterror was going to eat him

He might not be someone who enjoys the misfortune of others, but damn, Venti enjoyed every time he saw that guy trembling, knowing that he learned his lesson

Xiao

NEVER flirt with the girl of a guy that lived so many years and still look young because he is a deity (or semi), that is known to kill thing that can destroy a whole city, that lost almost all of his friends and/or family and that his girlfriend is so precious to him

But some people... aren’t that smart...

He saw you and this guy who was eating almond tofu, YOUR HOMEMADE ALMOND TOFU, but that wasn’t the worst, he was trying to kiss you and flirt with you IN FRONT OF HIS FACE

There was one thing he was happy about this and it was that you defended yourself and tried to push him away, telling him that you have a partner and you were happy with him, it prove to him that you were so loyal to him despite being ausent, he was going to repaid it to you later

He appeared behind you and put one around your shoulder and said “get away from my partner, now”

He obviously made his life miserable, lost his home, money, family and other things, the guy almost sore that a man with a demon mask always saw him and that he was smiling

Weeks later, you both encountered the guy pleading for money

Xiao asked you to go with Xiangling to talk and when he get there they could eat in the restaurant

He only did this because he wanted to tease this guy and he did... by greeting him and when he asked him what he wanted he simply said

“Oh, nothing... just simply see how your life when down thanks to me” the cherry on the top was that he put his mask on and disappear in the air

He told everyone that you were the partner of a demon that was going to kill everyone but one believed him because he was a liar and cheater

Ningguang

Oh, boy, why people does try to flirt with the partner of more powerful people

This moron, whom I presume has a very low IQ, decided to try to bang you.... THE FREAKING PARTNER OF THE NINGGUANG, THE LIUYE QIXING WITH THE TITLE OF TIANQUAN, THE OWNER OF THE JADE CHAMBER AND ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE ON TEYVAT...

You get the idea

This dude really wished dead....

She was going to surprise you and instead she find this moron in the spot

Like Xiao, grateful that you are loyal to her despite not spending to much time together

But, oh boy, she was fuming...

She obviously use her power to make a nuclear revenge that would affect his life FOREVER

And she was watching this from first row but never seen

He lost everything and crawling to her in hopes to get an opportunity

When he entered towards her office, she was properly making out with you just to make him realize he really mess up

He was now in a boat to another nation in hopes of having a new life

But her warth will NEVER leave him. Period

Kaeya

Diluc literally saw him fuming and simply said “I’m going to keep away the good glasses”

Kaeya simply waited for an opportunity and then... throw a bottle of wine to a person... Kaeya was behind this guy but managed to not be seen

After this other guy began to fight this Romeo, Kaeya took you by the wrist and bring you outside, but, oh boi, he hasn’t finished

He went to see this guy’s files, and guess... he was in red numbers.... and he had only one chance before going to prison

He has a shit eating grin in his face, he was going to enjoy this

The next morning he went to Diluc’s winery

Everything was a mess, thankfully, the wines and most of the glasses managed to be safe

He informed Diluc that he can press charges against him and he will go to jail...

The red haired man thought of it, that man was already in his black list so yeah, he accepted but wanted to be in first row while doing this

They enjoyed him being escorted (by force) to jail

He reminded everyone that you were his partner and if they thought that they could flirt with you, they will be dead meat

Ironically, he is the one flirting with others (with the excuse to get some information)

Still, no homemade wine for Kaeya for a good while

Zhongli

He is a true poem

He’s mad, but also heartbroken

That’s until he heard you trying to get this weirdo away from you

He’s now is angry

He punched the guy in his face and pulled you away from him

But he wasn’t finished

He probably will do some research in the shadows...

And destroy this person’s life from there

IF Zhongli turns out being Rex Lapis... this guy will definitely will be better dead that alive

He might go chat with old friends to get some ideas on how to get his revenge

All the Adepti think it was irrespect towards him (despite being in a disguise) and offered him very good ideas

He disguised himself as a young woman and seduced him (he felt nasty doing this but he will teach him a lesson) and just coincidentally, this guy’s spouse arrived

He was kicked out of his house and his children hated him

Next was him destroying his career

He made everything posible to make his job impossible

The guy was fired and his ex place of work warned everyone about him, there’s no way he was gonna be in a job again... and if he did, he will just make his stay a hell

But oh no, he wasn’t finished, this was merely the beginning

After many attempts to destroy his life this guy arrived at his door, pleading for help

He said he was going to think about it until you arrived

You were astonished to see them and so do they but the guy’s face is a mix of fear and anger, while yours clearly showed fear

He shout at him, telling Zhongli that he is in danger, that because he was trying to have talk with her and she didn’t wanted, she cursed him and public humiliated him

“Public humiliated?” “That’s right! I told everyone but that snake made herself the victim when I tried to confronted her”

Oh boy, he did just and more wood to the fire

He told you to go to your room and he’ll be with you in a minute

“I’m afraid you confused the situation... my dear (Y/N) wasn’t the one who did that to you... she can’t even hurt a fly” (but you were an traveler and you definitely could defeat many things) “in fact... I know the one who did that to you” “and who is it?”

“Myself” he didn’t care if he blew up his cover, he was doing this for you, and also he didn’t have nothing to loose, he had a bad reputation and nobody in their right mind would believe him

The guy told everyone that Zhongli was Rex Lapis but nobody believed him, he was the mad of Liyue and when trying to prove himself, he ended up killed by a Ruin Hunter

Childe

God... he is pissed... VERY PISSED

He punched the guy in his mouth, you could sore that some of his teeth when flying away

He doesn’t care if he has troubles with the locals or the fatui... or worse... Signiora....

He won’t allow ANYONE to do that

And guys, word of advice

Never flirt with one of Eleven Harbinger Fatui’s partner

Childe got into a fight with the guy

Childe won but not without bruises

The guy in the other hand... didn’t have so much luck...

He probably needed a plastic surgery

When you and Childe returned home (not with the Fatui), you immediately treated his wounds

Childe’s subordinates weren’t happy about this

This guy was in their black list now

From what they knew the guy ended up dead in the forest

Childe give them a great dinner at your house, you were the one who cook most of the dishes but Childe helped you

The best meal they had and a reminder of why they let you be Childe’s partner

Sucrose

Sucrose, our sweet and shy Sucrose... is crying

She thinks you are cheating her with this man/girl

You immediately hug her and telling her that she was flirting with you

This person still tries to bang you but you get upset and you immediately go away with her

Her suspicious of cheating are out of line after Amber told her what happened

She DID flirt with you but you refused, stating that you already have a girlfriend who you love

They weren’t happy with that response

And the rest you already know it

Oh, boi.... if you thought Rosy (my nickname for Sucrose) was a saint... she wasn’t going to let this one go...

Other tip for you, never piss an alchemist...

She managed to give her mercury

Not in person but she somehow managed to do that

Every alchemist in Monstrad was investigated but later on it was decided that this person decided to end they life

If you ask, Rosy had an alibi and many people could tell she was telling the truth, besides, she wouldn’t hurt a fly

Unless that fly becomes more than just a pebble in her shoes

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flightofaqrow · 3 years

Text

arrested

qrow + Robyn ( @boundariestcbreak )

Robyn didn’t want to ask what had happened, but how would she know why they were in the back of an airship in bolas otherwise? She could tell that something bad had happened, from the look on Qrow’s face and the bloody pin that she knew belonged to Clover clutched in his hands.

“You still with me, 5′o clock?” She asked softly.

warmth on qrow’s shoulders pulls him from his own mind. Robyn. he should focus on her. the one who has a pulse.

tears float in his eyes and words burn his tongue.

“yeah. …more or less,” a flat, dry voice answers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Not to mention she was pretty sure she had a concussion, but she’d worry about that later.

“You still with me, 5′o clock?” She asked softly.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

like many times that night, qrow had a choice to make. he could have scuttled to grab Harbinger before the authorities came, but instead he went for the pin. now they have her - his precious blade, soaked in innocent blood for the first time in years, for the first time since her enhancement at beacon which washed away all traces of what he had spilled as a bandit.

he’s still not sure why a shiny memento felt more important at the time, but he doesn’t regret it. better to hold this than his flask, to run his thumbs over dirty metal to remember why he’s still fighting, than the cap to poison for forgetting.

warmth on his shoulders pulls him from his own mind. Robyn. he should focus on her. the one who has a pulse.

tears float in his eyes and words burn his tongue.

“yeah. …more or less,” a flat, dry voice answers. “how you feeling? took a pretty hard hit back there.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn looks steadily back at him, ignoring how doing so makes her head hurt as she waves his concern off to the best of her ability. Never has she been more thankful for her ability to keep a poker face than she is right now. Thankfully, she’s the one with the lie detecting semblance and not him, because it would be significantly harder to keep how she’s really feeling from him if that was the case.

“It was a little bump on the head. I’ve dealt with worse.” She says. This isn’t necessarily true, especially if she does in fact have a concussion, but he doesn’t need to know that. He’s clearly going through a lot as it is, she has no desire to make everything he’s dealing with worse.

She does care about those around her, and Qrow hasn’t given her much reason not to be that way with him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“yeah, well, nothin’s too little when dealin’ with your head,” qrow grumbles. he doesn’t need a lie detector to know simple facts. Robyn seems to be able to look at him with focus in her eyes, and hasn’t fallen over or lost her dinner since rousing from unconsciousness, so those were good enough signs not the push the issue.

trying to think logically with his own head helps push out the flood from his heart.

“ugh,” he grunts at nothing in particular. there’s a whole list in his head of places he’d rather be right now than heading to atlas. but when his current endgame resides there, perhaps he can make use of the trip. his thumb strokes the pin in his hand yet again. “can’t believe we’re gonna be stuck in a damn interrogation while everyone’s fightin’ for their lives out there.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn gives a ‘fair enough’ nod. He’s certainly not wrong about that, after all. Head injuries are dangerous because of the fact that the brain is housed in there. Which is also why it bleeds so much if you get a head wound. Thankfully, though, as far as she’s aware, she’s not bleeding. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a concussion. Thankfully, though, Qrow doesn’t seem inclined to press the subject at all, and she’d be lying if she said she isn’t grateful for that fact.

She blinks at him as he grunts. When he speaks, she supposes that his grunt makes sense. “Neither can I.” She agrees. “My Huntresses will look after everyone, Qrow, don’t worry.” She says, and she means it, because she knows them nearly as well as she knows herself. “Even with me not around to call the shots.”

They’d all do anything for the people of Mantle, herself included.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

she should be getting her injuries checked out before much else, anyway, but these might be extenuating circumstances. there are things he can do something about, and things he can’t, and neither getting Robyn to talk if she doesn’t want to nor treating someone’s brain is part of his skillset. not his current objective.

his shoulders sink even further. relying on other people isn’t something he’s great at, but it’s the best they’ve got for now. and the Huntresses weren’t rookie pushovers when he met them last. he’ll have to trust her word.

“that’s a little reassurin’ at least. but there’s still only so many of ‘em.”

not that two more people could handle the whole of the city, but two more huntsfolk could at least save how many more lives? they’ve already lost… so much…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn nods. She knows that she should probably be offended that he thinks the knowledge that her huntresses are down there protecting people right at this moment is only ‘a little’ reassuring, but she can’t blame him. After all, he doesn’t know them like she does. She removes her hand from his shoulder, worried that keeping her hand on his shoulder for too long might make him uncomfortable.

“They’ll do everything they can.” Hopefully they could get all of this cleared up soon, and go back to help.

The only problem with that was, Robyn still wasn’t entirely sure what had even happened in general. She’d gotten knocked unconscious and when she woke up, Clover was dead, Qrow was in restraints and she was being put into them as well.

“Anything I should know, going into the ‘interrogation’?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

qrow can hear the protectiveness in her voice. but this had nothing to do with skill or faith and everything to do with numbers. even still, he placates with a return nod to settle the discussion, “i know they will. they’re good huntresses.”

the feel of her hand had actually faded to the point he hadn’t even thought about it until it was gone. he’s not sure what that says about either his own state or how comforting it had really been. but it’s fine.

his brows furrow at her question, any solemnity left changing to stern seriousness. hands close around the clover pin once more, obscuring it from thought and view. he really doesn’t want to relive and recount painful steps just yet, when he’s still processing himself, still trying to wring truth from nightmare.

“no,” he insists. it would do no good right now, no matter how much he wants to tell her and how bad she wants to know. not to mention, they’re likely listening to every word they say right now, somehow.

“you were unconscious the rest of the fight. an unreliable witness. use that to get outta here as soon as possible. an’ on top of that, i got enough ridin’ against me on this one. definitely don’t need anyone accusin’ me of just fillin’ the blanks for you and biasing any testimony.” it would give them grounds to throw anything helpful to him right out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn smiles a little at his words, and nods. “That they are.” She agrees without hesitation. He has no idea how loyal they truly are. But then, why would he when he’s never interacted with them beyond possibly a few cursory exchanges in passing, if even that.

She wishes she could say his insistence to not tell her makes her feel better about the situation. Besides, it might be safer for them not to discuss what has happened, anyway.

He’s right, though-she was unconscious for the fight once the ship hit the ground, and she isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Fair enough.” She says softly. “Qrow, I’m not going to leave you. You know that right? Even if, when, I get cleared, I’ll stick around. You deserve to have someone in your corner.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he doesn’t.

he deserves nothing but exactly what’s coming to him. for what he did. what he didn’t do. all the should’ve’s and could’ve’s that exist in time and possibilities long gone, and their absence rends his head and heart open anew. he’s cursed to always be divided from the ones he loves.

he appreciates Robyn’s olive branch of friendship, even without knowing the whole story. she tells him everything he wants to hear when he needs to hear it most, but the truth is it just sits like more guilt in his gut, twists the dagger deeper; the truth is it doesn’t matter. her words choke him with the weight of promises that will only sink both of them, send them crashing right back into the ground from another metaphorical plane, and he doesn’t want to see even more blood on the snow. qrow has other plans, a personal mission to take on alone.

“don’t say that,” he shakes his head with a snarl, still volatile emotions getting one up on him again, “you need to get back to mantle, Robyn.”

and he needs to get to james.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn blinks in surprise when he snarls at her. “And I will. But we’re in the same boat right now and I’m not going to leave you here to deal with things on your own if I can do something to help.” They were bold words, she knew this, especially since she wasn’t even sure if she could do anything to help him. And it certainly seems like he doesn’t want her help. Really, she should just cut her losses now and move on.

She should, but she already knows she isn’t going to.

If he actually wants her to leave, to go back to Mantle right now, he’s going to have to make her, and that’s not something she thinks he’ll do.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little while longer 5′o clock.” She tries to keep her voice light, but she can feel a knot of nerves in her stomach like a fist.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he still no longer looks at her, still doesn’t ease up or relax. qrow finds no solace in her insistence, no matter how much he wants to. fists clench tighter, feet press restlessly into the ground. the people of mantle might buy all those sappy platitudes, but qrow doesn’t.

he’s dealt with things on his own for several years leading up to this. he can handle himself. he doesn’t want or need help; it never turns out well. and Robyn doesn’t even know him to have any idea of what attempts at these stupid oaths to stand by him mean. she has other sworn duties to attend to, other people who need her, she shouldn’t be adding him to that pile right now.

her sentiment overrides logic; honestly, he’d expected better, while simultaneously expecting nothing less - a kind heart and charisma her driving nature.

but he’s shoved back against pushier people than her, kept them at arm’s length in his life, and fight back he will when the time comes.

“we might be stuck here yet, but with me isn’t where you belong,” he sighs, harder, “don’t you get that?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Yes, Robyn did understand that. But she wasn’t sure that she could leave him here by himself once she got cleared-because after getting knocked out, she hadn’t been a part of the fight so they couldn’t punish her for that, right? Or maybe that was wishful thinking, given the fact that she knew General Ironwood already likely didn’t think very highly of her. Sure, they had helped in evacuating Mantle, but considering he was just going to abandon the rest of Mantle, and maybe even the rest of Atlas too, she wasn’t exactly happy with him.

But there had to be a reason he’d gone to such an extreme so quickly, and that was what she was curious about.

“Yes, I do understand that, Qrow.” She told him. “And I also understand that I don’t want you to be alone, so you’re just going to have to deal with me sticking around.” It occurred to her after she’d spoken that she’d called him ‘Qrow’ and not ‘5′O Clock Shadow’.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

stuck. the both of them are stuck in this situation and everything sucks. Robyn stuck here when she could be defending mantle. qrow stuck here with her, when he needs to get far away. Clover stuck forever in the land of the not-living wherever his body has gotten carried away to by now. While Tyrian the only bastard deserving of being locked up runs free.

all thanks to ironwood.

head weighing like a boulder atop his fists with bloody pin still clutched inside, qrow squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think.

no room to feel right now, not the pain of the past few hours, not the warmth of Robyn and her caring heart beside him. but she’s right, at least for now, he must deal with it.

he has no argument left. no passion left. no information or advice on next steps left to offer. just emptiness and the goal of retribution he fills it with.

and for now, right now, anyway. he sits tight. too tight, wrapped up in himself and the barbed wire minefield that forever chokes him and his choices.

so fine. fine. though qrow refuses to speak it, he allows himself just this moment

to be glad he’s not alone.

#* she can keep a man honest = boundariestcbreak ** robyn *#* we got work to do = ic *#* you've earned it = vol 7 *#* how do you think legends and fairy tales get started? = thread archive *#me; after vol 7: qrow's gonna be even more closed off; crwby; during vol 8; actually he's gonna spill his guts #can't get 'em all #meanwhile aura mentioning concussions was on point for those cut scenes

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boneswriteswords · 4 years

Text

Alien Boyfriend: Duxob

I wrote this over a year ago and it was on my wattpad so I decided to move it over here too. Its my first crack at an alien and a space story. Let me know what you think and if I should continue this world building.

I reread it and I’m not a fan but I never like any of my work so eh. Its unbeta’d because we die like men here.

Length: ~7900

Male Alien x Female Reader

~~~~~~

The sun that rose in the west was at its peak as you pretended to rummage through your backpack. It was the kind of hot that evaporated the sweat from your body before it even had a chance to drip and you could feel the skin at the back of your neck boiling. Stealing the large tub of sun cream you in preparation for your days on this hell-site of a planet was honestly one of the smartest things you had ever done in your life.

A few feet away, Duxob leaned against your bikes, tinted band hiding half his reptilian face as he scanned the area - particularly the cargo wagon by the gateway- under the guise of adjusting something on one of the handle bars.

It was a believable enough scene. Your bikes looked like they were on their last legs, barely functional and ill-maintained, what with all the scratches and chipped paint, the dangling wires and exposed gear shifts. The tires were covered in duct tape. The seats were tattered and stained. The metals looked rusted and dangerous.

No one needed to know that they only looked that way though.

No one needed to know that you designed them to look like heaps of junk. Aside from the things that you needed to fix on them the next time you hit a decent port city, they ran smoother and faster than anything on this side of the galaxy. But, for the purposes of keeping your head down and not getting robbed, life was easier when they didn't look appealing.

Across the clearing, you could hear the men attaching the empty wagon to the jump ship, checking over the mechanics one last time. They're yelling something The driver of the jump ship revs the gears in quick bursts, filling the silent port with noise, and you know that you only have a few minutes before they leave.

You adjust your band down over the bridge of your nose, turning up the the tint so your eyes weren't visible. If anyone was watching, you didn't want them to have any more identifiers than necessary. It was bad enough that your roots were showing, revealing your natural hair color to the world.

Glancing up at Duxob, you nod. His scales shift colors -green to blue to purple- in silent agreement, running his hand over his pants and mounting his bike. There was no need for words when you've been working together as long as you have. There is no doubt between you and it makes picking out the best targets easier than breathing.

Like the driver. You would have approached him. He was an old Culxan, wrinkles deep in his wide face and expression set in a way that shows he has never known much other than struggle and hard labor in his long life, but he was soft around the edges. He likely had a family or at the very least, he wished he had one. You'd be able to play into that if you had the time, chipping away at him with curious glances and innocent but intrusive questions until he broke rules about stowaways and border jumping.

But time was the one thing you didn't have at the moment.

Which was why Duxob was taking the lead while you kept watch, one hand on your gun and the other on your bike handle. There were no visible security measures - the region you were in was way too poor to afford drones and bots and all the other high tech shit that smothers the galaxies - but that didn't mean much. This was an outlaw station - used more for transporting produce and drugs than intel and technology - and that meant anyone could have some sort of weapon on them at any time.

Which meant that they all did.

It also meant that you both needed to be extra careful. What you were doing was still illegal - Duxob could be arrested the moment he set foot by the gates - but there was a lawlessness about the way they dealt with criminals. There were no questions. There were no arrests. There were no calling the authorities.

You didn't just have to watch for guard passes through the jump, you had to watch for anyone who looked at your partner for longer than 10 seconds.

It made you anxious but you knew Duxob could handle himself. He was Alzeanian after all - one of the most deadly species to exist on this side of the cosmos - and while they were rare and were hardly ever seen off their own planet, everyone knew what they were capable of.

It was an advantage you had utilized many times since you met him.

Still, you also never looked away from him as he approached the cargo wagon. Between the whirring of refueling pods and the grinding of the lines, the whole area is drowned in a sea of noise that made it damn near impossible for you to pick up what Duxob was saying. He was off his bike and if you hadn't redesigned it yourself, you would have thought it was turned off.

'Not safe yet,' you thought, watching as he adjusts his gait into a saunter as he approaches the driver. His wide smile is all sharp teeth but his flat nostrils are closed into slits as he scented the wagon. After a moment, the slits flared open again and He stretched, his lean body on display as his dirty shirt rode up.

You tried not to stare but it was difficult when your job was literally to watch his scales to see if they shifted or not.

Duxob's toothy smile morphed into an easy grin as he reached down into his pocket and pulled out a small bag, slipping it into the driver's pointed claw in a pseudo-handshake. He flashed green and you knew you were safe for the moment.

Relieved, you hitched your backpack over your shoulders as Duxob drove back over. "We good?"

"Yeah. One bag of units and four ounces of dust," he husks, removing his own backpack from where it was hooked onto his bike, "Pretty cheap but then again, the wagon is empty, they're jumping through a moon shift, and its heading to the Triquaz region so anything more than that would have been bullshit and he knows it."

"Ew."

You hated the Triquaz region. Hated it. On your list of choices for destinations, it wouldn't even make it to the top 500 but the reality was that you didn't have a choice at the moment. They needed to get off this planet and find a port where they could stock up on their dangerously low supplies. You were human, which limited the amount of things you could consume in the galaxy apparently, and finding stations that imported Earth produce and the like took a bit of research to find.

"I know but at least the temperature doesn't fluctuate so suddenly or so dramatically."

"This is true," you sighed, adjusting your grip on your handle bars as you walked alongside the bulky alien, kicking up dust as you did so "Do you know which planet we're going to?"

"No but I do know we will be confined inside the back for a good five days before we get there."

"Well fuck," you groaned, "Do we have enough to get us through til then?"

His lips quirked up and you couldn't help be annoyed at it. You had real concerns damnit! You knew how much you had in your bag but that was it. You didn't touch your partner's bag unless it was a severe medical emergency, like the time you got bit by a Qon and needed a poison pack or when Duxob accidentally burned off an entire forearm's worth of scales and skin trying to readjust the thrusters on his bike without your supervision.

"Don't fucking smirk at me dickhole."

His grin widened minutely before disappearing completely, "We will be fine. We have enough to last until we get off-world and find somewhere to sleep."

God you missed sleep. It felt like ages since you were able to get more than an hour here and there. The tension in your body was tight enough to choke someone to death. Your body was not made for the rough interstellar outlaw lifestyle that you found yourself in and it loved to remind you of that.

The alternative wasn't any better so you tried not to bitch too much about it.

The wagon was attached to the jump ship, the back door closing as it prepared to jump. The gatekeepers on both sides of the portal gate were bustling too and fro, making sure everything was secured for a final time before departure.

"Ready?" Duxob grunts, picking up the pace.

This part, along with literally everything else about being a stowaway, made you nervous. Jumping was a very serious, precious thing. If you fell back, it usually wasn't so bad. Depending on how far you are, you could come back unscathed. If you fell to the side.....well, it wasn't pretty thats for damn sure.

"Ready."

As one, you run forward, kicking up even more dust and shoving your bikes upwards, hopping into the wagon just as the doors close. You can hear the clicking as the metal latch seals and the overpowering light from the east sun was consumed in darkness. You quickly dropped to your knees and clutch onto the metal door handle, feeling the start-up of the initial burst of speed that is required in order to jump.

Duxob worked quickly to secure the security locks and activate the bracer shields on the bikes, knowing full well how awful it could be if the bikes remained unsteady during liftoff.

The wagon rocks as the buildup increases. There is heavy clanging happening outside, slowly being drowned out by the familiar ghostly noises of the portal as the wagon approaches it. You brace yourself as the rocking turns into lurching, knowing full well that no matter how hard you clutch onto the door, you are going to be flung.

It always hurts and this time is no different. The bruises on your back are going to be a fucking bitch.

"Y/N?" Duxob pulls a light stick from his bag as it ends, snapping the two ends together and holding it up. The wagon illuminates and you give him a thumbs up from where you landed on the floor on the opposite side of the wagon.

"Is anything broken, you weird fragile creature?"

The thumbs up quickly turns into middle finger and he snorts, which makes you bend your arm and snap it up a few times to emphasize the level of 'fuck you' you are directing at him. You hated everything.

The wagon lurches again and flings you over to another side of the wagon yet again. Pain shoots into your side but its quickly quashed when you realize it hurled you right into Duxob's body, causing him to grunt and slam back into the wall forcefully.

Fucking aftershocks.

"Ish what you get for talking shit asshole," you mumbled, face pressed uncomfortably into his abdomen (?)- you had no idea because Duxob dropped the light stick on impact and it rolled underneath one of the bikes and died.

A solid hour goes by before either of you move, wanting to be completely sure that the jump was successful.

"Only five days to go," you grumble as you finally shift away from the chilled body of your partner, "Fuck."

Five days of sleeping on a hard floor, working in the low lights of your remaining sticks, sucking on dehydrated food packs and ignoring the grumbling in your stomachs, and trying not to go stir crazy in the darkness of space. Again.

"We'll get through it. We always do."

"I know," you sigh, "I just wish it was different sometimes."

He doesn't say anything but you can feel his clawed hands stroke the top of your head and you hum, content despite the complaints on your lips. You'd cope. You both would. Just like you always do.

Because you weren't alone and neither was he.

~~~~~

Five days was four days and 23 hours too many to be confined in the dark with nothing to do. You were ready to tear your skin off just to have something else to focus on. As awesome as it was, travelling the galaxies wasn't a luxurious process if you didn't have the money to book passage on a tourist ship or buy your own. More often than not, if you wanted to get somewhere off-planet, you either hitched a ride or you snuck your way into empty crates and bag holds, spending hours upon hours being quiet and still.

It was maddening at the worst of times but you always felt better knowing that Duxob was with you, keeping you company in the quiet.

Nevertheless, the moment the secondary engines turned off, you were up and ready for action, securing your stuff back onto your body before the clinking and clanging of the descent even stopped.

Duxob was too by the looks of it. His face was always hard to read but you could tell he was just as anxious to escape your wooden prison as you were. You couldn't see it too well in the dark but his scales were more red than any other color and bright than normal, indicating his level of irritation. You watched as he pressed close to the wood, listening to the shouting coming from the outside through his comm chip.

You would have but yours was damaged and the parts were too small to see and repair in the total darkness of the wagon. The universe was filled with other languages and you picked up what you could but everything on the outside sounded foreign.

"Can you make anything out?" you whisper, already straddling your bike with your hand on the starter. After being confined for so long, the rush of adrenline was blinding. You wanted to go.

Duxob jerks away from the wood quickly and hops on his own bike, "We've descended. They'll be opening the door any minute now. Get ready." His long clawed hand turned his bike on before reaching over and flicking yours on too, "We have to be quick. This port is more heavily armed with border agents and just as ruthless. Be careful."

"You too."

The seconds seem to drag on and anxiety causes your grip on your handles to strengthen even as you start to sweat. Border patrol agents were nasty pieces of work, hired to check and process travellers as they come and go off planets but, because there were no uniform regulations to keep them in line, they often just did as they pleased to people, especially those that are illegally jumping.

Like you and Duxob were.

"We will be fine Y/N," Duxob mumbled quietly, his voice hoarse from disuse and oh how you loved how he said your name "They haven't caught us yet. They never will."

The darkness seems deeper in the contours of his face as you look at him, emphasizing the brightness of his golden reptilian eyes and the gold pseudo-eyes that rest above them and bleeding over the contours of his cheekbones. (He never explained to you what the 'pseudo eyes' were - you weren't even sure if they were eyes to begin with- or what they did and you couldn't bring yourself to care about you- not when he was looking at you and you had more important things to focus on).

He's all hard lines and safety, a reminder of all you've gone through the last few years to get where you are, and you relax just the slightest bit.

"No. They never fucking will."

His lips quirk up again, "Now get ready. Its almost time."

And he was right. No sooner than you had turned back to face the wagon door, did it open with a hiss, revealing several border patrol guards with scanners and tasers and all the pretty toys you wish you could get your hands on.

"Show time."

~~~~~~

The getaway was as dramatic as you would expect. The air tasted wet, the humidity of the planet already working its magic on your already beaten body as you sped away from the guards. The port was a mess - Duxob finding it absolutely necessary to snatch one of their stun bombs and let it off over the entire port. There was a pain spreading from your side and you knew without a doubt that you got hit.

But it was worth it.

Duxob was unharmed.

You glance over your shoulder and assess the chaos left in your wake. Its nothing more than a smoky ball of dirt on wet and slimy hilltop and you grin when you see that the guard patrol bikes are still hovering around the port.

"They didn't see us. I think we're good," you shout, grinning wide despite the pulsing pain in your side. You could feel the blood dripping down your back, a burning sensation crawling over your flesh. Carefully, you engage your auto-drive.

"Lets get farther away before we get comfortable," the reptilian man warned, doing nothing to stop the smirk forming on his lips but kicking his bike into the next gear. You untie and retie your jacket's belt quickly, using whats left of your clothes as a makeshift bandage to staunch the bleeding, before putting your bike into the next gear to catch up.

"Where to?" You could feel drops of water splashing up from your wheels and you pointedly do not think about how much fucking mud you are going to have to clean out of your rechargers later. Instead, you focus on how exhilarating it feels to be alive.

Alive and with Duxob.

"There is a city not far from here but I think we should head out farther. When they release we got away, they'll immediately head to it to try and smoke us out."

"Sounds good to me." It really didn't, not with the way the fire in your side spread and consumed you but auto-drive was a beautiful thing and it wouldn't be the first time you passed out and needed your bike to take you to safety. Duxob was more than capable of syncing your bike to his so you didn't get separated and he was more than used to you passing out due to your human stamina.

It would be ok.

~~~~~~

It was not ok.

You had been on the road for at least a full 12 hours before Duxob found a port city to stop in, every rock, bump, and hurdle ripping at the ever-growing wound on your side. There was nothing special about this particular port - same lost cost rooms, dingy dive bars, questionable food marts, and horrific pleasure buildings, all the same shit that comes with being a hub for the transients and the poor - and that what made it the perfect place to lay low for a bit.

It also meant that there likely wasn't a med bay anywhere in the vicinity and you're going to have to try and fix the wound yourself when Duxob went for food.

There were plenty of buildings advertising rooms but Duxob was picky, choosing the one that had the least amount of skeevy employees and cleaner bathrooms. It had a parking lot right outside the rooms, which was good since being able to get to their bikes at a moment's notice was vital in your combined survival.

Your room was all the way in the back of the building, on the first floor, another thing Duxob insists on when you bunker down in actual rooms for a night or two.

"I got us a room for five nights," he says, flashing the card keys and slipping them into his jacket pocket.

The surprise on your face must have been obvious because he snorted, "We need a rest. And we need to restock. Shipments are due to come in all this week at this port. Better to lay low and stay than run off with half empty gas tanks and no food."

Point.

"They didn't charge me too much," he murmured, knowing how anxious you got when you ran low on units, "I bartered."

Bartered meaning threatened the clerk until he was satisfied that they wouldn't bother you both. You smirked up at him, "Good. I'm assuming we also have an hydration pod?"

Duxob leveled you with a stern look before it broke into a small grin and a wink, almost sending you to your knees in shock.

"Oooh, whats got you all playful?" you joked, subtly adjusting so you could poke his abdomen through his thick jacket. The movement was enough to make you want to die but you could not pass up the opportunity to tease him.

"You're going to stop smelling like shit and I'm excited about it."

"Fuck you, you stoic cumstain," you cackled, knowing full well that he was right. A downside to the life is that cleanliness often had to be traded for survival. Weeks could go by with only light rinsing and scrubbing through hoses and water containers and lakes. Soap was an almost nonexistent luxury as was conditioner and lotion.

Honestly, it was one of the hardest things you had to give up when you first left Earth and the thought of slipping into the pod and being able to do a deep cleansing of your body and wound was heavenly.

The scales on his head shift to a deep violet, spreading down his neck and chest in striping patterns and you know he is just as excited as you are to bathe. He reeks just as much as you do, the skin between his scales caked with ingrained dirt that probably drove him insane.

You made a mental note to offer to swab them out for him after his initial wash. You know, if you didn't pass out from the pain.

He swipes the card through the door before walking back outside to secure the bikes. You immediately drop all your stuff onto the bed in the corner, slowly lowering your body down next to it. You side screamed in protest, sweat starting to drip down your body as the wound shifted from a spreading pain into paralyzing infection.

Which means that it wasn't just a normal blaster the guard was wielding.

Which means that it was one of the million different kinds of biological weapons they had at their disposal.

Which means that not only did it feel like your flesh was being fried and eaten, it likely was being fried and eaten to create the ideal environment for whatever chemical or disease that was inside it to make itself at home and infect you.

Which meant you were fucked.

The world got really fuzzy.

"....hey....Y/N? Are you ok?" your partner said, voice sounding distant.

'Oh...I think I'm dying,' you thought sluggishly as Duxob's face appeared above yours, handsome reptilian face slowly fading.

"Nope," you slurred, making sure to emphasize the pop of the 'P', "I got shot at the port. Thought it was a normal blaster shot but looks like its not...."

"What?"

Oh, he sounded mad.

"Yeah. Don't be mad."

"Oh. Mad doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling," he growled, easing off your jacket and the majority of your shirt off as carefully as he could to inspect the damage. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"We had to get away." There were pieces of fabric melted into the wound and no matter how gentle he was being, it was not pleasant and you couldn't stop the choked noises from escaping. Something cold was sprayed on the blistering skin and you vaguely recognized the smell of antibiotic spray.

'He's so smart,' your mind supplied as it floated in dead, squishy remnants of your ability to think rational and continuous thought, 'Knows just what I need.'

"We could have stopped sooner! This needs to be dressed and treated!"

You didn't have the strength to argue, blinking to fight off the very tempting urge to just pass out and ignore the way your body was succumbing to the infection. There was an unhealthy amount of sweat pooling in your collarbones and in the small of your back but there was ice in your bones.

"Stay awake. Stay the fuck awake Y/N! Do you hear me? I'm going to wrap you up and get some help."

"Too dangerous."

"Fuck you, I swear if-"

You didn't hear what he said next. Everything went silent, like when audio is cut right in the middle of a movie. You were positive he was still talking but his lips were moving way too fast for you to read them and it wasn't like you could see them clearly anyway.

A feeling of calm washes over you before the world goes black.

~~~~~

The first time you regain consciousness feels like something out of one of your nightmares.

There is pain.

Lots and lots of fucking pain.

And you can't move. Your body was frozen, limbs unresponsive and weak.

And there is one - no, two - faces hovering above you covered in blood and neither of them was Duxob. You didn't recognize either of them but you knew that the blood was yours.

The screams formed and fizzled out before they could reach your teeth.

'Please. Please let me die. Oh my God, please let me die. I can't....help me. Someone help me!'

The darkness gripped you tight and you hoped that you never woke up again.

~~~~~~

The second time you wake up, you are in a different room and the pain is gone but it was replaced with a throbbing ache in your joints. Its dark, the only light coming from a small light stick in the corner of the room, but you can make out the shape of something moving in the room behind weighted eyelids.

"Dux?" you rasp, mouth dry and disgusting, "That you?"

The shadow figure moved closer. Right away you knew it wasn't Dux and you couldn't stop the anxious whine from escaping. It crackled painfully in your throat. The dark hid everything from you, fear slamming back into you forcefully.

"Shhh. Shhh little love," the shadow whispered, voice feminine and sweet, "Dux is nearby. Cade had to take him to the back room while R fixed you up."

A cool cloth was placed on your head and you flinched, whining again when you realized you couldn't move away from it. The ache spread throughout your body as it tried to shiver. The bed beside your hand dipped before a soft hand stroked your cheek and hair.

"Rest. You are out of danger now. I'll let Dux know you know you woke up," the shadow said, a smooth lilt to its voice as they continued to soothe you. "He worries."

As much as you want to protest, to jump up and demand answers, scream for Duxob to come in and protect you from the shadow and this strange, awful place, you couldn't help but the shadow's touch was comforting. Something beeped somewhere in the darkness followed by a burst of sweet-smelling aroma.

Before you could stop yourself, you slipped gently back into unconsciousness with the bitter knowledge of waking up alone on your tongue.

~~~~~~

The third time you woke up, you felt better. The throbbing ache was centralized to the spot where you knew your wound was. You kept your eyes closed for a few moments, cataloging your body, relieved when it seems that all your limbs seemed back online and capable of movement.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice asked and you couldn't help the grin as it formed on your mouth.

"Dux?"

"Yeah, its me," the sound of wood scraping on wood filled the room and the bed dipped a little, "I was starting to think Jazza lied."

"Who?"

"Don't worry about it right now," he murmured quietly and you didn't have to look to see that his face was next to yours on the pillow, "How do you feel?"

"Sore," you whimpered, shifting a bit on the bed, "but good. Better."

"Good. Good."

After a moment of struggle, you were able to roll your head to side and open your eyes. Duxob's face was, indeed, very close to yours on the pillow. Close enough that you could trace the green patterns in his iris's.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Hey."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm ok."

"Promise?"

He chuckled at that, the sound reverberating through the pillow, "Promise. Go back to sleep. You need more rest."

As soon as the words left his lips, you yawned, sending what was probably a really nasty-smelling gust of gross-mouth into his face. His face contorted in mild disgust but stayed put. You admired his restraint.

"Sleep." There was a hint of command in his tone.

So you did, eager to fall into a place that was just Dux's cool hands and vibrant scales.

~~~~~~

Weeks had passed before you were able to stay awake for more than three hours and each time you woke up, Duxob was there with fresh blankets, soup, and a new story about what he had done while he waited for you to wake up again.

You quickly became acquainted with Jazza, a fiery little humanoid Flazian woman with artificial purple eyes and scars across her pink body who you recognized as the shadow who lulled you back to sleep, Cade, a small golden alien (you couldn't place his species for the life of you) with bright orange antennae and tattoos covering his body, and R, a tall tentacled Carcog who trained as a doctor on Pantone but left the practice to lead a rebellion after he discovered that the institution that hired him had been giving placebos to the poorer populations of beings instead of actual medicine.

You had also learned that the building you were in was where R worked to heal the disenfranchised and those injured by border agents and those they work for in the various riots and rages he leads and organizes. It was beaten down and broken, windows boarded up with wood and red tape, floors splintered and decayed, regularly infested with at least three kinds of parasites at any given moment - seven if Cade didn't parasite bomb once a week -, and the smell was enough to make you vomit. It was incredibly well-hidden - it had to be in order to fly under the radar for extended periods of time.

However, despite the shitty state of the building and most of its rooms overall, the healing rooms were immaculate and perfectly sterile. The medicine cabinets were lined up neatly along the walls and labeled with the different medicines they stored. There were neat charts and lists hanging on the walls - patient schedules, post-its with cute doodles on them, restock lists, all manner of relevant papers.

Air purifiers hung in every corner just high enough to reach and adjust if needed and you were thankful for them because without them, you could imagine it getting quite stuffy in the room.

Cade had found the building right before the last time they had been forced to run - over 3 years ago - and they still hadn't been found, which put you at ease. You wouldn't be able to fight your way out if there was a raid on the building.

Especially since you were unarmed and unable to get out of bed without risking rupturing all of R's hard work.

They were quite the trio, always on the go and doing something, getting in each other's way - sometimes on purpose just to get a rise out of the other - but, despite their strangeness, you were grateful. They saved your life and, from what Jazza had said, kept Duxob from losing his shit all over the place while you were out.

"Dinnertime!" Jazza sang as she sauntered into the room, a steaming bowl of gross mush that was supposed to promote rapid healing.

"Oh goody," you reply sarcastically, dog-earing the page you were on and putting the book off to the side so she could place the bowl on your lap table.

"Hush now," she mock-scolded, purple eyes whirring as they focused on you, "This is helping."

"But it tastes like shit," you whine loudly, exaggerating random syllables, "Its NASTY!"

"Child, I will spank you."

"Pfft, that is sooooo not a punishment," you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows at her as she cackled.

"If it makes you feel better, the rest of us are stuck on this canned garbage until we can make another run and it tastes even worse than the shit R is making for you."

"You're right, I do feel better."

"Oh fuck off."

You laughed, only stopping when your side started to throb. R had told you all about the stuff you had been shot with, and, because you waited so long before getting it treated, you would likely always have a residual pain in your side from where the nerves had been frayed and rebuilt. Over time, the pain would fade into a more manageable level and you'd be able to resume most activities but it would likely never go away.

It bummed you out in more ways than you could ever imagine and for once, you were thankful Duxob wasn't in the room. You were 90% sure R had already told him everything a;ready, there was no way he wasn't going to get some answer from R after he had fixed you up, but you sure as hell didn't want to have a conversation about it.

"So, I have more questions," Jazza smiled and you groaned obnoxiously, causing her to shoot you a playful glare.

Jazza had grown up with very little knowledge of the worlds beyond her own, having come from a very secretive sub-community on a moon in some quadrant you hadn't even heard of, and only started experiencing other beings when she hitched a ride with Cade off her birth world. As a result, she had at least 20 new questions for you every time she came in and grilled you endlessly as she tried to understand. Most of the time, her questions were about humans and Earth but there were times when her curiosity drifted to your partner.

It was sweet, the way she lit up when something made sense to her. She's get all starry eyed and excited and you felt a pang of loss over your own loss of wonder.

"Ok. Shoot."

"What is up with Dux's scales? One minute they're green. Then they're blue. They get really bright and then dim down like a Hashi craft. I fucking turned around yesterday and he had bright red fucking elbows for no reason and I don't know dude, is he sick? Does he need a catheter too?"

If you had been drinking, you would have choked, "First of all, thank you for reminding me that I have one of those in right now. I really needed to be reminded that I can't pee on my own."

"You are welcome," she responds with all the seriousness of condolence.

" Secondly, its partially how he communicates," you said, rolling noodles onto your fork, "Alzeanian scales are a lot more complex than what people think. Probably because they don't leave their planet often and anyone who visits their planet gets killed so no one really has any data on them." You shrug, dipping your fork of noodles in the little sauce pot. "Each scale looks like its just a flat color from a distance but the closer you get, the more you can see that they are more of an iridescent duo-chrome. Alzeanians can control how muted or how bright their colors are and can make them shift from regardless of where they are standing in the light. Duxob has a green to blue-purple shift in the majority of his scales. In others, he has a gold to red shift and he has a tiny patch that shifts between purple and red but that's literally just on his elbow. Depending on where we are and what we are trying to do, he uses them to talk to me from a distance."

"That is so cool," Jazza whispers, eyes wide and whirring as she slurps down her own food with her double-tongue.

"It can be," you acknowledge, "and its always nice knowing that your partner is adept at handing any kind of situation and can alert you real fast if things get...unsavory. I lucked out big time that he took me on."

You couldn't help the twinge of sadness that came when you thought too deeply about Duxob's presence in your life and the implications of how recent events were going to change that.

"How so? I saw your Wanted reel. You are quite handy with a gun," she grinned, nudging you with a dirty hand and you couldn't help but grin back. You were extremely proud of your Wanted reel. It really captured your insanity and desperation for freedom. Other outlaws try to seem as scary as possible when they know they are being filmed to dissuade anyone from coming after them.

Not you though.

You welcomed the challenge.

'Come and get me. I dare you.'

"I try."

"You succeed."

"Its all I know how to do. Wield a gun and fix bikes," you shift your now empty bowl away from you. There is a bitterness lurking there, something you try to keep down as much as possible. Jazza seems to understand.

"Lets change your bandages," she suggests and you are grateful for the change in topic.

~~~~~~

You hate physical therapy.

Hated it.

You also hated Duxob.

Because the piece of shit loved to get you up early and do the exercises with you until you cried.

This morning was no different. The stupid lizard wouldn't stop smiling as he guided you into each stretch.

"Stop enjoying this," you grumbled as he pushes down on your torso so you get an actual stretch instead of one of the fakes ones you did before he took over because you didn't see the point of putting yourself in more pain.

"I'm not," he said, smile stretched, sharp, jagged teeth on display, even further on his usually stoic face. Fucking liar.

"You are, you - ow, ow, ow, owwwww," you screeched as he eased you into the most painful of the stretches, "Whhhhhyyyyy?"

"You need to use your muscles again. You were in a coma on and off for two weeks and you've been recovering in bed for two more. You're going to get squishy and useless."

"I already am squishy and useless though!"

"No, you aren't," he murmured, letting you come out of the stretch and falling back onto the bed, "And you need to get your body used to movement again."

"Leave me to die," you whine dramatically, turning your head and throwing your arm over your eyes like a princess.

The words formed and hit your mouth before they hit your brain and the silence that follows is deafening.

"I think recent circumstances would suggest that I wouldn't," Duxob says, soft and displeased.

"I know," you sigh.

~~~~~~

"Tell me," Jazza begins, a couple of days later, "How'd you get hurt anyway? I feel like we've talked about literally everything else since you've been here but that. You had a pretty sizable wound when you came in. R wasn't sure you were going to pull through and he's done multiple surgeries on Gorglax creatures."

"Oh um, well," you wrack your brain for a good explanation but the look on Jazza's face suggests a finger right in your side if you lie. "Ok well. We had gotten off a port wagon and the usual 'run for your lives before the space coppers get you' game ensued. Dux had managed to get a hold of one of their stun bombs and released it, paralyzing the border guards. Most of them anyway." You take a deep breath, a weird flash of emotion flowing through you as you relived it. Ew. Not going there. "There was a smaller one following close behind us as we fled from the port. I don't know if he saw me or what, maybe he completely disregarded me as being the less important catch - whatever - but he aimed at the back of Dux's bike. His recharger wasn't in the best shape - I only had duct tape with me when I rewired it - and any sort of hit would have caused an explosion. He took aim at it and I swerved in front of him, causing him to slam on the breaks and swerve away."

Your side throbbed dully at the memory of your skin splitting open as the gun went off anyway, haphazardly, hitting you just enough to burn away a chunk of your body.

"It went off anyway and got me in the back as I was speeding away."

"It wasn't a direct hit?"

"No, thankfully."

"Then why was it so bad?"

You chuckled awkwardly, "I, um, didn't tell Dux I had gotten hurt so we, kinda, sorta...drove for 12 hours before I collapsed and he brought me to you."

The furious look on Jazza's pretty face would have been hilarious if it hadn't been for the fact it was directed at you, "You are an idiot."

"Hey, no I-"

"Yes you are! Did you have some kind of death wish?!"

"No-o...I-"

"You what? What could possibly have gone through your head that would justify you allowing yourself to burn and rot?"

It was silent for a moment as you tried to think of a reason other than the truth but, it just wasn't worth it. Not anymore. You were tired.

"I thought it was a normal hit, something minor," you whispered, unable to keep looking into the girl's pretty purple eyes, "I thought that I'd likely be okay. We'd stop, I'd patch myself up, and we'd rest. It wasn't until we got there that I realized I was fucked but even so, I was content. It hurt like a bitch but I've long accepted that I'm going to die in a shoot out or in a shitty sleep room in some shitty port," you sighed, leaning back into your lumpy pillow and rubbing your face, "And you, if I was gone....Dux would be safe. Safer, I should say."

Jazza's round face softened, the anger melting into a calm understanding.

"How so?" Her voice was soft, like the night she had soothed you to sleep in the shadows.

"I am a liability. I am no use to him, not really. I get hurt more. I eat more. I sleep more. I am more high maintenance than he is. I require things he doesn't and that make being on the road difficult. There is a reason humans aren't an ideal partner, especially when you are running from space cops! I mean, look at where I am now? In bed! Hurt! He had to go around in a strange place and put himself at risk to try and find someone who could help. And he's waiting for me out of some misplaced whatever when we both know he could dip at any moment and he'd survive just fine!"

You didn't realize you were screaming until you stopped to catch your breath, throat hoarse and frustrated tears rolling down your face. Everything that had bottled up the last few years poured out, exploding in a tsunami of bullshit you didn't want to have to deal with. There was a throbbing in your side that you knew was from overexertion but you didn't give a fuck anymore.

"He would be fine," you reiterated, suddenly feeling sluggish. The drip in your arm had turned up on its own at the feel of your elevated heart rate and increasing level of agitation. R had set it up to monitor your activity and keep you from doing something stupid out of boredom and ripping yourself open. It was such a staple in your life that you had forgotten it was even in.

"No, I really wouldn't."

Oh shit.

He did not.

"Dux?" your mouth was slow, dripping over the syllable as he entered the room. A silent conversation took place between him and Jazza, one too fast for your slushy mind to process, before Jazza took off out of the room without another word.

The door closed and he sighed, all but collapsing on the chair next to you bed, looking more ragged than you had ever seen him before. His scales flashed and shifted uneasily as he looked at you.

"It seems we need to talk," he said, the finality of his tone telling you a talk was going to happen despite his phrasing.

"If you want."

"No but we're going to."

"Fine, you start."

Coward, you scolded yourself but hey, feelings were scary, which is why you never dealt with him.

"Fine," he growled, scooting the chair even closer and putting himself all in your personal bed space, "Things are going to change."

"I figured," you shrugged, "I can't run anymore. My side will never allow me to do all the strenuous activity of being an outlaw."

"Agreed. You can't do that anymore," he said, eyes roaming over the bandages peeking through the shredded top you were wearing before meeting your eyes again, "So I came up with a solution."

You leaned your head back, your neck unable to hold it up due to the sedation pumping through you, "Where are you going to take me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'd like for you to drop me off in a place I'll be able to get around easily enough. I liked that little blue planet we stopped at like 2 years ago."

"You aren't going anywhere."

"But you just said I can't run anymore. I can't stay here forever and we are still Wanteds. I'm going to need to be in a place where I can live and blend in without drawing suspicion."

"Who says you can't stay here?," he asked, harsh golden-green eyes boring into yours, "And who says that I'm going to ditch you on some random planet?"

"Dux, I can't," you pause, mind really blurry because he isn't making any sense and it's making you anxious, "I am very drugged. Please stop."

His gaze softens and he reaches a stubby clawed hand out to stroke your head, "Calm down, ashistoiro. You are ok. You are safe. I am here."

"Ashi-what?"

"Ashistorio, Y/N. Beloved in Alzeanian...well, the closest translation for it," he murmured, claws scraping gently along your skin, "I discussed it with R. He is letting us stay. There is a bunker attached to this building that he is going to let us have until its time for all of us to leave. I am not leaving you. I won't. I can't. You are my biggest asset."

It wasn't a normal confession of love, not by a long shot, but it was one of the most meaningful you had ever heard.

And you hated that you were passing out in the middle of it.

"Yeah?"

He smiled as he watched you nod off, "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

You couldn't wait to wake up.

~~~~~~

#monster story #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #space adventure #male alien #My writing #Alien

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secret-engima · 4 years

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Last one! - the future’s blurry (but the past is a trap)

Time-Travel fic!!!!! Hmmmm- what fandom what fandom so many lovely choices....

FFXV. Because that’s my mood right now (as ever).

COR.

Cor Time-Travel fic. Cor who lives to see the end of the Long Night, Cor who HOPES and dreams of helping Noctis rebuild the kingdom after he restores the dawn, Cor who is Noctis’s godfather, Cor who PROMISED Regis the first time he held the tiny sleeping infant that is now a brave and wise king that he would PROTECT Regis’s son-.

Cor who stumbles into the throne room to see three brothers sobbing over the lifeless body of their fourth and king.

And Cor ... Cor breaks. He hides in some random, rundown apartment in the empty city and drinks and drinks-

“So this is how you’re going to accept fate? By drowning yourself in a bottle?” Scorns a voice he’s only heard one time in his life but still sends him scrambling for his sword. He whirls, heart in his mouth, blade in hand and sees not a towering suit of armor with glittering eyes, but a ghostly version of a fire-eyed twenty-something adult. A towering man of nearly seven feet, board shouldered and scarred on one side of his face, dark brown hair and piercing amber eyes that mark the Amicitia line, “I had hoped for better.”

“Gilgamesh,” Cor rasps and wonders if he’s lost his mind in his grief, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” says the man with a sneer, “I should be moving on to the afterlife. I have been freed from my prison after all. The Prophecy is fulfilled.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

A pause, and the sneer, the confidence, fades away and leaves behind someone very tired and wrung out, “Because I have regrets, and you are the only one still alive for me to speak of them to. The Last Shield will not listen, he is lost in his grief and surrounded by the living. You are alone and you are open to my voice.”

Cor doesn’t like the sound of that at all, “You are not allowed to possess me.”

Gilgamesh laughs, short and sharp but oddly genuine, more animated than he ever was as a murderous suit of armor, “No. I have no desire for that.” Burning gold eyes lock with his, “I wanted to know if you still meant what you said that day.”

It takes Cor a minute to remember. Even if he knows what “that day” Gilgamesh means, it was years ago and he was an idiot at the time. Then Cor remembers, and his already broken mood sours, “I did. For whatever good it did. I’ve failed. They’re dead. Both of them.” Cor laughs and the sound is poison even to his own ears, “You were right. I am no Shield.”

“No. You are a Sword,” Gilgamesh corrects, “and you should have been treated as such. Instead you were sheltered and lied to, and those lies dulled your edge until you were useless to stop the death of those you cherished.”

Cor throws the bottle at the ghost’s head, listens to the shatter of glass as the ghost lets it phase right through him without a blink, “What do you want?” He roars at the ghost, fragments of his wild temper from his youth coming back to his bones.

“What my brother’s dear Shield is trying to say,” purrs another ghost that Cor hates even more, who also doesn’t blink when Cor draws his blade and tries to behead him, “is that we both feel terribly guilty. More than that, the rest of those who once were in the Ring feel guilty, and angry. We’ve also got a very spiteful and a very remorseful Astral respectively on our side in the matter, now all we need is a living human member of the conspiracy.” Ardyn Lucis Caelum, blue eyed and purified and just as dangerously mischievous as ever, grins at Cor as the human forms of Shiva and Ifrit manifest in his apartment, alongside far too many royal ghosts for Cor’s comfort (he firmly does not look at the ghost of Regis, sagging tiredly in a corner, the only one he recognizes other than Mors now that they are all human looking rather than giant statues with face masks).

“So,” The ghost of Ardyn purrs with a rueful smile, “what do you say to saving the world and your precious kings in one fell swoop and maybe spiting the Draconian along the way?”

And it’s a stupid idea. Cor probably isn’t even seeing any of this. He’s probably lying in the apartment, dying of alcohol poisoning and grief right now, hallucinating all of this as he goes. But if he isn’t.

If he isn’t...

“What do you need me to do?”

Their plan is simple on their end, and painful on Cor’s. They grab him and throw him back through time, drag him with them as one by one they use up the last of their magic and finally vanish, because for all Cor calls them ghosts, they are not. Living souls do not linger after they die, but memories can. Memories given shape and form by magic, and when that magic was used up and given away, the memories are shattered, turned back into the formless nothing they really were.

They carve open Cor’s being and pour their magic into it, Gilgamesh at the fore, leading the way through the howling abyss while each king and queen carves Cor open a little more and pours in the magic keeping him alive and sane as he plummets through time. Regis’s touch lingers longer than the others, a breath of apology on his brow before that memory too, shatters and falls away.

Mors’ fingers wrap around his wrist and Cor struggles for the first time as his blood burns under the king’s touch in a way the others had not, “Hold still,” snarls the man coolly, “I do this as a favor for my son and grandson alone. Hold still and let me work or you will die the moment you reach our destination.” Cor stills and his blood burns until Mors too shatters.

Then it is only Gilgamesh, Cor ... and Ardyn.

“Free me,” he whispers as he presses something into Cor’s hands (or maybe into Cor’s soul, it’s hard to tell where reality ended and magic began in this place), “Find my past self and free me, then give me this.” A chuckle, “Let’s see the Empire grow so strong without it’s Accursed to feed from.”

“What about Prompto?” Cor asks desperately, because he is here to save those he cares about, not condemn the man who was like a son to him to nonexistence.

“Have a little faith,” laughs the former Chancellor, “a King needs his Heart, and Noctis will have his. Now,” hands on his shoulders, a final yank from Gilgamesh, “Go.”

Cor wakes up.

He promptly rolls over and vomits onto the stone.

Gilgamesh, a towering suit of armor once more, watches him gasp and wheeze and shake under the too-sharp sensation of magic living in his veins and reality existing again after so much time falling through time and void without comment. When Cor is done and has staggered upright, Gilgamesh hands him a sword.

Cor leaves the Tempering Grounds unbothered by the things that lurk there and makes straight for the Rock of Ravatogh. He gains the waiting Infernian’s Blessing, then collapses in a caravan for the night after several days and nights spent walking without pause and sleeping on cold Havens without so much as a blanket.

After waking up and showering, he spends a good twenty minutes the next day cursing at a mirror.

He’s fifteen again. He’s fifteen years old when in the original timeline he would have been six (is six, somewhere out there the original Cor Leonis still lives and grows, unaware of an altered future counterpart).

He’s also not Cor anymore. His eyes are the same, icy blue and angry, his face shape is very similar-. His hair is not. His hair is black and thick and wavy, and under his skin, magic coils, deep and effortless and his, not a gift from another.

Those blasted ghosts turned him into a Lucis Caelum.

He thinks of Mors’ cold fingers on his wrist and burning in his blood, Mors’ angry demand he stay still if he wanted to “survive the destination” and swears louder.

Then he picks up his sword and disappears into the wilderness again. Let Shiva come find him. She had a talent for finding Lucis Caelums anyway.

She finds him in the Quay, as Cor steals a boat to make for Angelgard, she Blesses him and disappears, and in her wake is a winter mist that shields Cor’s journey to the isle from prying eyes.

He cracks open the prison with the magic he now has in excess, falters at the sight before him.

Ardyn looks a lot less like evil incarnate and more like a shivering, frightened, half-starved cat this way.

Also who hung up their prisoners on MEATHOOKS like some kind of slasher from a horror film?

Overdramatic Lucis Caelums, that’s who.

Cor hauls Ardyn down from his chains and carries the weak, disorientated Accursed outside. He can hear Ramuh stirring in the clouds as he takes the nameless Thing that Ardyn of the future gave him (magic, pure magic, an orb of it as bright as gold and the dawn) and crushes it against this Ardyn’s chest like he would a potion.

He sidesteps the black bile Ardyn heaves up like a drowning man ejecting water from his lungs, writhing and whimpering on the stone as Scourge smoke recoils off his body like it’s trying to escape, only to be burned clear by golden magic. Well. That was convenient. Pity he doesn’t have enough of those to cure the whole planet.

Ardyn stays silent, dazed and wide-eyed as Cor hauls him back to the mainland, steals some proper clothes and then bundles him in a caravan for the night. The man out of time flinches at every modern amenity, stares at the soup Cor roughly puts in front of him with confused eyes. Finally, tentatively, as if afraid of being struck (and that shouldn’t make Cor angry, it shouldn’t, this man killed both Cor’s kings and threw the world into darkness. He deserved whatever fear he felt, yet looking at him now Cor can feel nothing but pity and anger on the man’s behalf) he speaks, “Who ... who are you? You ... you healed me. I ... do not understand.”

And Cor pauses, because he ... isn’t Cor now is he? There is already a young Cor Leonis out there somewhere, and no one can know that Cor is one and the same person as that youth.

In the end he shrugs, “I don’t have a name.”

“...What?”

“I don’t have a name. I gave it up. It was the price for healing you.”

“Then why,” Ardyn asks incredulously, “did you heal me? I am a stranger to you, a monster.”

Cor scoffed. The Chancellor of his time was a monster. This man? This man was about as monstrous as a starving kitten, “Not anymore you’re not, so stop that.” At the sight of Ardyn’s frown, Cor rolls his eyes and says gruffly, “If it bothers you so much, give me a new one.”

Ardyn gapes, “You ... want me to name you. Just like that.”

“Is that a problem?”

The redhead stays speechless for a while and Cor busies himself polishing his sword and ignoring the fact that he’s now distantly RELATED to this man (and also, if he doesn’t miss his timeline, OLDER than Regis by several years. Thanks a lot Kings of Yore).

“Glaucus.” Cor twitched and looked up sharply, Ardyn shrank in his seat a little, “You don’t like it?”

It sounds too much like Glauca. But he couldn’t say that, and it was better than lots of other names Ardyn could have come up with. Even if he had no idea where Ardyn had come up with that name. Cor forced his shoulders to relax and went back to caring for his blade, “Do as you please.”

“Glaucus,” repeated Ardyn softly and Cor- Glaucus, resigned himself to having a name very similar to that of a traitor and imperial experiment.

Kind of fitting, considering the company he was keeping.

Glaucus set his sword aside and gestured toward the bed, “If you’re done eating, go get some proper sleep. We’ll be leaving once you wake up.”

“Where will we be going?”

Glaucus smirked and knew it was not a nice expression, “A place called the Tempering Grounds. There’s someone who owes you an apology.”

(anyway hi yes I have a new AU to keep. In it “Glaucus” is now an LC, specifically and according to blood test MORS’ kid and he’s about 4 years older than Regis. I shall expand on this new AU another time. Tagging @sparklecryptid @hamelin-born @a-world-in-grey @ean-sovukau @ertrunkenerwassergeist behold my newest insanity).

#SE asks #byakko4 asks #Secret Engima Rambles #title prompt #The Future's Blurry (the Past is Trap) verse #new au #ffxv au #time-travel fixit #cor leonis as an lc

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