why did i follow such a nice spiral path tonight with the order i did my doodle studies tonight wtf fsdjkl

Amandla | ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋʏ

Pairing; Stucky (IW) Word Count; 3.1k Warnings; angst (it's whumptober - buckle up), hurt/comfort, amnesia, restraints, nightmare/insomnia, fluff, pet names A/N; FIRST WHUMPTOBER ENTRY! this marks the beginning of some of the darkest stuff I have ever written. translations will be at the very end - I am aiming for you, as the reader, to be just as confused as Steve is. SORRY IN ADVANCE! 😘

WHUMPTOBER MASTERLIST

Bucky wasn’t acting himself, but Steve had the determination and strength to bring him back where he belonged - home. 

The crisp night air of Wakanda was a relief to Steve’s lungs as he looked to the shrubby horizons where clusters of Marula trees stood proud, indifferent to the way Steve marvelled at their beauty and captured it with the scratch of lead on paper. 

Since the serum, Steve had found that one upside that Dr. Erskine may have never anticipated nor accounted for; the speed of which he could draw. The artistic streak that both his Ma and Bucky had been in awe of had bloomed with such intensity it had consumed him.

If he sifted through the countless memories he still possessed of his time during the USO tours, he could still hear Colonel Phillips berating him for sitting on the stairs of the stage exit with a pencil in hand. There were days he could not tell the difference between the monkey on a unicycle, parading around in his suit for all to see, compared to himself. 

After losing Bucky all those decades ago, Steve had never picked up a pencil, let alone entertained the thought of putting one to paper. The memories of seeing Bucky lounge in their apartment and smoking a cigarette with the breeze blowing through an open window with the scratching sound of his charcoal and parchment in the background were always hard to stomach. Painful as it was, he stopped drawing for good. 

But here he was all these years later, dressed in Bucky’s favourite button up and sweatpants while listening to the soothing scratch of lead over paper as he observed and drew Bucky’s goats under the light of the moon. 

They slept peacefully, unperturbed by the struggle that Bucky faced day in and day out. Steve knew all along, no matter how much Bucky tried to deny it, that Bucky cared for them so deeply because it was one of the first opportunities presented to him - a choice - to care for something; a chance to prove that he was, in fact, capable of doing good. 

It had taken weeks for T’Challa to finally convince Bucky that it was safe to be here, in his own small hut amongst the villagers and their children. Hell, as soon as T’Challa had waved them over to meet a few of the villagers, Steve had known that it would be a perfect fit. A safe place for Bucky to recover and learn how to be a man once again, not a weapon. 

When a crowd of excited children had rushed towards Bucky’s approaching figure he had turned still as stone, rigid and unmoving under the panic of possibly hurting them. It broke Steve’s heart seeing the absolute fear in Bucky’s eyes as he looked over his shoulder at him for guidance, and since Steve had never led him astray, Bucky listened when Steve spoke. “They’re only kids, Buck. They won’t hurt you, even when they want to bowl you over.”

The relief that had flooded Steve when Bucky looked back down into the children’s faces, wide eyes and bigger smiles as they stared up at the White Wolf who crouched down so they could play with his loose hair was immeasurable. Bucky later admitted to Steve that it was one of the first times that he had felt safe. “Children are harmless. It was only a braid.”

Of all things considered, Bucky’s recovery had been on a steady incline, getting better day by day - sure, there were times when he took a step forward only to be pushed back another three, but he had never given up. It was with a swell of pride that Steve told him he was starting to come back to himself, back to being Bucky Barnes. 

However, something had been off all day and it was making Steve feel on edge, poised like a coil ready to spring at a seconds notice. There wasn’t a way to pinpoint exactly what it was because there was too much to go off of; too many variables or scenarios.

Bucky had been withdrawn all day and had barely touched his food. He had tended to his goats with a very noticeable lack of his normal enthusiasm. Sam, the goat who had a habit of climbing to the highest bales or boulders and jumping off had pulled off a particularly impressive leap from the top of the hut - Steve had no idea just how the little creature had managed to get up there - and Bucky didn’t even crack a smile. 

Steve’s protective instinct screamed at him to bundle Bucky up and get him away from whatever it was, no matter the cost, but Bucky had shrugged away or, honest to god, snarled at him a ‘no’ or ‘get away’ whenever Steve had tried to offer a comforting touch - it was as though the Winter Soldier had his way out of the depths of Bucky’s mind and taken control.

Which led to now. 

The breeze that rustled leaves in the trees and the fabric of the door leading to the inside of Bucky’s hut brought with it a smell he could only describe as home; its earthy tones and slight spice from the slow cooking pots over blazing campfires, and the sound of the few awake villagers bustling about their business. 

A slight shuffling sounded from behind him and Steve froze. 

The rustle of leaves and the crackling of fire became mute as he honed in on the sound, desperate to discern the source. Was it Bucky? Had Sam somehow escaped the goat pen again?

Another sound - a sharp intake of breath, came from beyond the rippling fabric of their door. “Buck?” Steve whispered, barely audible over the wind but if Bucky was awake, he would have heard. There was no response and Steve started to move quickly but silently to place his book on the stump beside his seat. A low whine came from inside the hut and Steve felt his stomach sink.

It was a nightmare. It had been days since his last one and if Steve hadn’t had the serum, he could have sworn those bruises would have been around for weeks. 

“Bucky?” Steve said a little louder, peering into the hut and looking around until he found the source. Bucky was laying on his side facing the wall, the sheet covering his lower half and leaving his muscled back on full display. He wasn’t shaking, or tossing and turning as he usually did - that alone set off alarm bells in Steve’s mind. 

“Buck, c’mon,” Steve whispered as he ducked through the doorway, his feet silent on the thatched floor as he padded over to the bed to sit down gently. “Come back to me, you’re safe.”

He didn’t dare run his hand down Bucky’s arm or side like he did last time while half asleep - Bucky had almost broken his nose with how hard he had swung out against his imagined captor. Instead, he opted to keep talking, praying that somehow Bucky would hear his voice and be lulled back into sleep. “I’m here, Buck, I need you to relax for me.”

Suddenly, Bucky became deathly still, his shoulders no longer rising with breath. A second later he began to shake. 

“I don’t-'' Bucky wheezed and Steve almost felt relieved, he was talking, but it was short lived when he began to move his only arm as though to yank away from something. “No, I don’t want it! Stop!” Bucky shouted and Steve felt his gut turn with the vivid image that demand painted of his dream. 

“Buck, come back to me, you’re safe,” Steve tried a little louder, almost letting the desperate need to hold him close win out, but he stayed his hand. “I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart, c’mon.” 

Bucky turned further into the mattress and whimpered, his white knuckle grip on the sheet not lessening even when he started to breathe raggedly. “That’s it, Buck, that’s it,” Steve soothed. He knew that Bucky was nowhere near being awake enough to acknowledge his attempts at calming him down, but his mind seemed to register Steve’s voice as something soothing. Steve wasn’t the enemy.

“GET AWAY!” Bucky suddenly screamed and Steve jumped back, watching helplessly while Bucky thrashed around in their bed. “No, no! NO!” 

A violent jerk landed Bucky on his back and his arm and legs became twisted in the sheet, making his flailing all the worse. There was a sheen of sweat over his chest and tears were streaming down his face from behind his closed eyes. 

“Oh, no, god no,” Steve gasped in horror. The knife that Bucky normally kept under his pillow had moved with all of the thrashing and the blade glinted in the moonlight. If Bucky kept this up, he was going to get hurt. 

“Bucky!” Steve yelled over Bucky’s sobs, and he stood just shy of the edge of the bed. “I need you to wake up!” To Steve’s anguish, Bucky didn’t wake up, he only continued to flail and become more tangled in the sheet. 

To hell with the bruises, Steve thought, and he leapt into action. 

“I am not cleaning up after the damn goats if you hit me,” Steve mumbled with a huff of laughter and he climbed onto his side of the bed. Bucky continued to cry out in pain or fear, Steve couldn’t tell, while he shook and strained against the restraint of the sheets. 

The sudden dip of the mattress made Bucky still momentarily, gasping for breath. 

It was now, or never. 

Quickly, Steve threw a leg over Bucky’s hip to straddle him and grabbed ahold of his fist, pinning it against the soft pillow to prevent any surprise blow. 

“Отстань от меня!” Bucky yelled while he tried to twist away and out of Steve’s grip, but he held fast, suppressing the shock of hearing Bucky speak Russian. God, I hope he didn’t hear those damn words, Steve cursed to himself. “Да отвали ты от меня!” 

“Bucky,” Steve said a little louder, drowning out the sound of Bucky’s legs twisting against the bed and the rustle of the sheet. “You’re safe, you’re with me, it’s me, Buck,” Steve paused when Bucky stilled as his brows furrowed, his eyes still closed against the flow of tears. “It’s Stevie, come back to me.”

While not thrashing against the weight of Steve on his hips or the restraint of the sheet tangled around his arm and legs, Bucky still laid tense beneath Steve. His brows were pinched and his face was pulled into a grimace, the slight twitch of his left eyelid and side of his mouth was the only warning Steve had before it actually happened. 

Bucky’s eyes opened quickly, but he remained frozen. They were glassed over and his stare was empty as he looked up at Steve from the pillow, then to his wrist still in Steve’s grip and then back up to Steve again. It was like watching a child trying to figure out just how they made it to bed the night before, only much scarier. 

“Я готов отвечить.” Bucky’s tone was flat, almost gravelly after all the shouting, and all Steve could do was stare in shock - he had hoped to never hear those words again. Impatiently, Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - tried again. “Готов подчиняться, Пирс.”

Oh, hell. 

“No, Buck,” Steve started, shoving down the urge to scream from the anger that boiled in his blood. He had to focus if he was going to bring him back and he hated the fact that the only way to get through to Bucky while he was like this, was to give orders. “I’m going to get you out of this sheet, I need you to stay still. Can you stay still for me?”

The only way Steve could deal with this is to pose it as a question, rather than an order, but Bucky took it all the same. 

Quickly, before Bucky grew restless, Steve released his wrist and sat up slowly. “I’ll start here,” Steve pointed to Bucky’s arm while Bucky stared into his face. It was unnerving to be watched with such an intense scrutiny, especially from Bucky, but Steve powered on. “I dunno how in the hell you got it so tight, Buck,” Steve mumbled, not particularly talking to Bucky but he responded as though he had. 

“Это приемлемо.” 

Steve eyed him cautiously but continued, finally lifting himself up and off Bucky’s hips to stand at the end of the bed to loosen the tangled sheet wrapped like a vine around Bucky’s legs. 

Once free from the tight grip of cotton, Bucky’s mind seemed to switch from being the Winter Soldier to a Sergeant of the 107th Infantry Regiment of the US Army - exactly how Steve remembered him best in his pressed uniform and tilted hat. 

“Please, please don’t,” Bucky gasped and Steve watched with dawning realisation that this Bucky was hurting - it wasn’t the toughened soldier that left Brooklyn. “I don’t want it anymore, please,” the scrabble for purchase against the now damp mattress made Bucky whimper pitifully, desperately trying to put distance between the two of them. “It hurts, I don’t want it, please don’t make me,” Bucky whispered pleadingly, curling in on himself and avoiding Steve’s gaze.

And just like that, Steve’s heart shattered. “Oh, Buck,” he soothed, fighting the urge to rush to Bucky and hold him. “You’re safe, can you tell me where you are?” 

It wasn’t uncommon for Bucky to become disorientated after such a horrific nightmare, but Steve could never steel himself enough to hear the answer. 

“A-Azzano, there were men disappearing er’ywhere, a h-huge tank came, I-I didn-” a wet hiccup interrupted his slurred ramble and Bucky groaned, clawing at his shoulder as he looked around the hut with wide, fearful eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” Steve questioned lightly as he sat down slowly on the edge of the bed furthest from Bucky. 

Bucky only grimaced and swallowed thickly, looking anywhere but at Steve. He was casing the inside of the hut for escape routes, Steve suddenly realised. “You are safe here, Buck. You’re in Wakanda, with me, with your goats.” There were no sparks of recognition and Steve sighed quietly. 

There was one way to help him remember, but whether he’d react violently, that was another story. But if Sarah Rogers didn’t raise a stubborn man, Bucky sure as hell cemented it. 

Steve pointed to the lamp beside the bed. Light was always a way to ground him, Bucky didn’t like the dark. “I’m going to light this, and then I’ll stay up while you try to sleep again, Buck.” 

The sudden flicker of yellow and orange lit up Bucky’s face and Steve inhaled sharply - he looked sunken, so pale and afraid. 

“Do you want some water?” Bucky looked at him sharply. It was like he had forgotten Steve was standing right there. “Buck?” Steve urged and Bucky nodded hesitantly, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. 

Steve smiled softly and retrieved the canteen. “I need you to go slow, okay?” Bucky nodded at his request and reached for the canteen with trembling hands, and promptly dropped it with a cry of shock. 

“‘M sorry, I won’t do it ag-” Bucky started but Steve shushed him gently. 

“I’ll help you, here,” Steve slowly reached a hand out and held the back of Bucky’s head to tilt it back slightly. The canteen rested against Bucky’s lips as he drank greedily, parched from the shouting he had done earlier. “That’s it.”

Bucky backed away to the far side of the bed and cradled his knees to his chest, watching Steve with apprehension as he placed the canteen on the bedside table and moved to sit against the headboard. 

It was going to be a long night. 

Finally comfortable with a pillow behind his back, Steve grabbed his book from the bedside table and flicked it open to a random page, silently hoping that Bucky would come closer once he saw the title on the bound cover. 

A few moments later, Bucky piped up from his perch on the corner of the bed. “What’re you readin’?” Talk of the devil. 

Steve looked up to see Bucky cautiously meeting his eye and pointing to the book in his hand. The sight of Bucky taking interest so soon made Steve grin, while Bucky hesitantly smiled back. 

“The Hobbit.” Bucky’s eyes brightened suddenly with recognition and Steve couldn’t help the sudden rush of relief he felt - he was getting somewhere. 

“Want me to read it aloud?” Steve had to hold in a gasp when Bucky nodded slowly. “Come sit next to me,” Steve gestured to the spot next to him and watched as Bucky scooted closer, peering curiously at the book while he did so. He settled against the head of the bed and waited patiently. Steve smiled. “Alright then.”

“There were many paths that led up into those mountains,” Steve started, still smiling. “And many passes over them.” Bucky made a small noise of discomfort and shifted and Steve waited patiently for him to settle again, ignoring the fact that while shuffling, Bucky had moved closer. “But most of the paths were cheats and deceptions and led nowhere or to bad ends; and most of the passes were infested by evil things and dreadful dangers.”

Steve continued to read, still feigning ignorance to how close Bucky was shifting to his side until they were almost touching. Suddenly, Steve felt Bucky staring at him and he looked up from the book expectantly. “Are you alright?”

“Can I,” Bucky hesitated, a slight hum leaving his lips before he continued. “Can I lay there?” He was pointing at Steve’s lap. All the while Steve could feel the burn of tears building as he looked into Bucky’s face; so hesitant and unsure, scared even, to be comforted. 

“Of course you can, Buck, here,” Steve adjusted and uncrossed his ankles. Bucky slowly rested his head into Steve’s lap and Steve had to fight the urge to sob with relief. “There ya go.”

Finally comfortable, Steve continued to read until the end of the chapter while running a hand through Bucky’s hair, absolutely content to finish an eventful night in such peace.

The tranquillity was broken when Bucky spoke up quietly, his voice breaking only slightly at the end. “Stevie?”

Steve’s grip in Bucky’s hair tightened slightly and he sighed, finally letting the relief flood his body. Bucky looked up at his sniffle but Steve was only smiling. 

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart. It’s me.”

отстань от меня! = leave me alone! Да отвали ты от меня! = get away from me! Я готов отвечить. = ready to comply. Готов подчиняться, Пирс. = ready to comply, Pierce. Это приемлемо. = It is acceptable. Amandla = Strength (Xhosa) (thank you, google translate.)

Graphics & Header made by yours truly.

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Jeremiah "Red" Hall | 28

I am your death, I am the crucifix

Likes

⭕ Gambling ⭕ Hunting ⭕ Collectible belt buckles ⭕ To sing

Dislikes

❌ Hypocrites ❌ To follow orders ❌ Christianity ❌ To speak loud

Backstory CW: anti-christianity, child abuse

Faith had never held any positive connotation for Jeremiah.

Born as a bastard child, he never recognized the man that raised him as his father. His mother was unable to care for him any more than she felt guilty for giving birth to him. Jeremiah’s religious family made it clear that he was an unwelcome presence in their lives.

Even his physical appearance became a source of ridicule and contempt for those around him. His red hair and violet eyes were considered unnatural and disturbing, and he was often subjected to cruel comments and taunts from the more conservative members of his community.

At the age of twelve, Jeremiah had a violent argument with his drunken father, resulting in a horrifying punishment that left a crucifix scarred into his face with a piece of broken glass. This traumatic event led to his departure from that nightmare of a household, growing a disgust for Christianity and any associated moral codes.

With nowhere else to turn, Jeremiah took to the streets, becoming a skilled pickpocket and thief, remorselessly resorting to violence when necessary. At fourteen, he was inducted into a gang led by a man who relied too much on faith for his liking. But he stayed with them because they offered him protection and taught him valuable outlaw skills, like persuasion and how to use a gun.

Ever since the beginning, Jeremiah was aware of the cult-like behavior and controlling nature of the gang, and he knew he had to leave at some point. He waited until he turned seventeen and then made his move, leaving behind the only family he had ever known and striking out on his own once again. He grew out his hair to help cover his scar, but this only drew more attention to his copper locks. Rather than trying to hide who he was, he decided to embrace his unique features and adopt the nickname Red as a way of proudly announcing his nature to the world, rejecting the biblical name given to him.

As he aged, Red became more conscious of the hypocrisy of the Christians he knew and the absurdities committed by the Catholic Church. Determined to make a difference, Jeremiah turned to bounty hunting, a profession that allowed him to strike back at the very individuals he despised most. He relished the chance to eliminate detestable targets and take a stand against the corrupt establishment that had done him so much harm.

With his new moniker and reputation as a ruthless bounty hunter, Red became a feared and respected figure in the underworld. He reveled in the power that came with his newfound notoriety, but he also knew that it came with a price. He was constantly on the lookout for those who might try to take him down, and he never let his guard down for a moment.

When pursuing targets, Red wears a goat skull mask adorned with a painted pentagram, as well as an upside-down cross pendant. Both symbols of his anti-Christian beliefs and his unwavering motivation for seeking revenge. Red was determined to make a name for himself, one that would strike fear into the hearts of those who dared to cross his path.

Voiceclaim 0:00 to 0:38

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Kylin 17

         When they reached the road, they stopped long enough only for Marta to hop from Wylett to her own mare.  Then they were off again, keeping up a breakneck pace down the path. The whole time, neither of them spoke to each other.  Occasionally they would glance over their shoulder, untrusting of the lack of vines whipping through the forest after them.  They had a silent agreement to ride through the night, determined to reach the base as soon as possible.

           By morning, the breathing of their horses was ragged, and their coats were drenched with sweat.  But the base was on the horizon and the feeling of being chased hadn’t left either Kylin or Marta.  The pounding of Kylin’s heart had prevented him from hearing his surroundings clearly.  Now able to catch his breath, he could hear sounds of Rangers gathering at the bottom of the tree.

           Encouraged by this thought, Kylin urged Wylett to give his last bit of energy. Wylett tossed his head in annoyance, but obliged.  Not to be left behind, Marta’s mare sped up slightly as well.  An eternity later, they arrived at the tree to find Ivelios gathering a small group of Rangers, possibly to start yet another investigation. Ivelios turned to greet them as they approached.  When he saw their condition, his eyebrows raised in alarm.

           “What happened?” he asked sharply, leaving his horse by the tree and hurrying over to them.

           Marta slid off her horse and almost completely collapsed to the ground, her knees buckling at the sudden need of their use.

           It was then that Kylin said perhaps the dumbest thing of his Ranger career.  “The flower’s alive.”

           That caused Ivelios to stop short and tilt his head, mouth slightly open in confusion.

           Thankfully, Marta expounded on Kylin’s brilliant description.  “We found another one of that orange flower coming back,” she said.  “Turns out it’s part of a much larger, very predatory plant.”

           There was an uncomfortable silence as both of them realized someone had to report the bitter news they had not taken the time to process until now.

           “We . . . we have reason to believe that it was in the middle of- we believe it’s responsible for . . . for Harn’s disappearance,” Kylin faltered.

           His words hung in the air like a heavy fog.  Behind Ivelios, Kylin could see the expression of the other Rangers turn from concern about Marta’s and Kylin’s conditions to looks of horror or grief. Ivelios’s own face darkened at the news. For a moment, nothing was said. There was nothing to say.

           The moment passed when Ivelios took a deep breath.  “I need you two to rest up, as well as your horses.  Then I am going to need you to lead me and some others to this plant.”  He raised his voice, so it was clear this was a command to all, and not just Kylin and Marta. “In the meantime, no one takes the path to barrier, especially not alone. I’m not going to have any more disappearances.”

           Kylin realized he was still mounted and slid off Wylett.  Even though it was Wylett who had done all of the hard work, he found himself out of breath.

           “Let’s give you nice, long rest,” he whispered to Wylett as he brought him to the stables.

              Kylin had resolved to sleep in his own room.  However, after getting Wylett settled and exiting the stall, he found himself so exhausted that the thought of climbing the stairs and walking all that way to his room far up the in tree was tiring in and of itself.  It was much more manageable to enter the stall with the clean bedding used for the horses and fall asleep in the bedding.

           He woke to the sounds of Rangers bustling around the stable, making sure their horses were cared for.  As he sat up and began to brush himself off, someone entered the stall.

           “Figured that if it was fit for the horses, it was fit for you?” he asked.

           Kylin got his feet, blinking in the brightness and trying to process who it was who had spoken to him.  “Numier? Didn’t realize you came back.”

           “Only briefly,” Numier told him.  “Just a couple of days, then I’m headed back to the villages.”  He paused, about to inquire something of Kylin.

           Kylin missed the purpose of the pause, however, and said, “So you won’t be joining us to go after a giant flower, then.”

           Numier blinked.  “No. No, I won’t be doing that.”

           “Sucks that you’ll be missing out of the fun, then,” Kylin said drily.

           Numier didn’t have an immediate response.  He stood there, pondering the quest.  “Are you all going to pick it, or . . .?”

           “Kill it,” Kylin responded simply.  “It’s a bit aggressive.”  The seriousness of the situation came back to him when he was reminded of the hand he had seen.  In a quieter voice, he said, “It’s ea- it killed Harn.”

           “Oh.”  Numier gave a pained sigh.  “Has there been a vigil for him yet?”

           “I think you would know more than me, depending on when you arrived.”

           “I arrived only a little while ago. Just getting my horse settled.”

           “Then if Ivelios hasn’t called for one yet, he’s probably waiting until after we destroy the thing,” Kylin told him.  He was about to say something else when he noticed Favel come into view over Numier’s shoulder.

           “When are you heading out?” Numier asked.

           “Favel might have the answer to that,” Kylin said, jerking his head up to point with his chin.

           Numier turned just as Favel reached the stall.

           “Excellent, you’re up,” Favel after exchanging a quick greeting with Numier.  “I was sent to check on you and Marta.”

           “Are we heading out?”

           “Only if you are ready,” Favel said.  “Ivelios decided he didn’t want Marta going. She’s still tired, and Ivelios believes she sprained her ankle.”

           Kylin briefly recalled the way she had been dragged through the forest.  “Only sprained?” he said under his breath.  “I’ll be ready in only a few moments, provided I can find something to eat and am allowed time to get ready.”

           “Very well.”  With that, Favel left the stall and headed back to inform Ivelios.

           “Well, I wish you luck on your endeavor,” Numier said, turning back to Kylin. “Keep safe; try to make it back in one piece.”

           “I make no promises,” Kylin said with a tone of morbid jest.  He exited the stall and headed to the tree to find a decent breakfast.

              Midmorning found the group of seven Rangers marching down the path towards where Kylin thought they had first entered deep into the forest.  Alongside the horses were four dogs, noses to the ground and bodies strapped with armor.  At the front, Kylin and Ivelios led the way.

           The rain had stopped and the sky was partly sunny.  However, even without the rain pattering on their surroundings, Kylin’s range of hearing did not guarantee that he would catch the silent trap of the carnivorous flower.  Therefore, he went slow when he reached the approximate area.  He wished he could say that it looked familiar, as he had been down the path several times before.  At this point, things should have looked recognizable.  He should have had landmarks in his mind to remind him of where he was.  In the rush of saving Marta, however, he must not have taken careful note of his surroundings in order to be able to tell where on the path he had to go.  Nothing reminded him of the day of the wild chase. And so far, there were no flowers on the ground to give away the trap.

           What if the trap moved?  What if, since it failed in its previous endeavor, it laid the trap elsewhere?

           What if it had found a different victim in that time?

           When evening came, they still had not come across any evidence of the flower. With everything darkening, they were forced to break for the night.  There was not much chatter as they prepared for their evening meal beyond setting up sleeping and watch arrangements.  Kylin volunteered for the second watch, taking Candel with him when he was wakened for his shift.

           Unable to stay in one place, he paced the parameter of the camp, pausing every once in a while to focus on a sound he heard.  Candel picked up on his tenseness and was on high alert, ears lifted as high as a bloodhound could get them and nose back on the ground the moment Kylin resumed pacing.

           As Kylin’s watch was coming to an end, Candel stopped before he did, giving a low, “woof.”  Kylin paused and looked down.  Candel had his head stretched out, sniffing at something farther off the path than they were. Tentatively, Kylin encouraged the dog forward.  They carefully stepped closer to what Candel had caught.  When they had gone several paces Candel stopped, cautiously sniffing.  Kylin inspected the ground, ears straining to hear anything.

           Candel took one step forward and Kylin saw it.

           He grabbed Candel’s collar, yanking him away in case the dog accidentally brushed his nose against the yellowy-orange bloom half concealed by dead leaves.  For a moment, he just stared at it, waiting for it to react.  When it didn’t, he clicked to Candel and headed back to the camp.

           He found where Ivelios was resting -up in a tree- and woke him.

           “I found the trap,” he told Ivelios before the Elf could even say anything.

           Ivelios wasted no time.  He was out of the tree immediately and Kylin led him back to the bloom.  Ivelios got uncomfortably close without touched it, hand on chin as he inspected it.  Kylin forced himself to not reprimand his superior for getting so close to it.

           “Wake the others,” Ivelios told him.  “We’ll head out now before it has a chance to reset itself elsewhere. Or worse.”

           Kylin hurried back to the camp and shook everyone awake.  In a matter of moments, everyone was up, their horses ready to be mounted, and the dogs weaving around them as they stood by the bloom. At Ivelios’s signal, Kylin caught the dogs’ attention and focused them on the flower.  The Rangers mounted up and waited for the dogs to take them to the large entity.

           It was Rosie who found the long stem first.  She let a short bay before diving off, stopping here and there to make sure she still had the scent, buried underneath the dead leaves and branches. The Rangers and other dogs took after her, careful to stay on the side of Rosie that did not have the unseen stem. The other dogs helped her, keeping each other on track when one needed to stop and catch the scent again.

           At first, Kylin felt nothing.  It was another task they had to do.  However, when the dogs began picking up the pace, more confident in what they were smelling, he could feel his chest tighten.  They were much closer now.  At any moment, they would come upon the cluster of trees, and upon the horror that they contained.

           But this time, he was chasing anyone down to try to save them in time, he reminded himself.  This time they were there to destroy it.

           As though it knew his thoughts, as though to taunt him, the grove of trees came into view.

           It was worse than he remembered it.

           When he was there with Marta, only a couple of days ago, what was inside the grove of tree was not visible.  It was just dark.  This time, however, all the trees were covered in the vines.  And on those vines were those large, ugly, yellow-orange flowers, their centers gaping open.

           Kylin drew up his horse and called the dogs back to keep their distance. Ivelios signaled the others to a stop. He took a moment to survey the area. Keeping his distance, he walked his horse around the infected area.  He returned to the group of Rangers, his face set with grim determination.

           “Alright, so it looks like we can go forward with my original plan,” he informed them.  “Position yourselves around the trees, and light up your arrows. Wait for my signal to shoot. At the very least, the fire will weaken it.”

           The Rangers spread out, standing equidistance from each other and several yards away from the grove.  The tips of their arrows were lit and aimed at the grove of trees.  Kylin aimed his arrow straight for the opening of one particularly large flower.  He took slow breaths to steadying his rapidly beating heart.  Whether it was from a rush of adrenaline or anticipation of something going horribly wrong, he did not know.

           He could see Ivelios in the peripheral of his vision, nocking his own arrow and aiming it towards the trees.

           Ivelios cried out the command to shoot.

           Kylin let the arrow go, landing it directly into the mouth of the flower he was aiming at.  Immediately, it closed its petals and began writhing as smoke poured out of the cracks.  A vine not too far from it caught fire from a nearby arrow and started to burn away.

           Kylin already had another arrow out and was in the process of lighting it when he saw the flower retaliate.

           Vines whipped out of the grove and lunged at the Ranger on Kylin’s left.  He didn’t wait for Ivelios’s command to shoot again.  As soon as the arrow was lit and nocked, he released it in the direction of the vines. The arrow embedded itself into one vine, burning it away.  Sparks landed on neighboring vines.

           Still, the unharmed vines wrapped themselves around the targeted Ranger and dragged her off her horse.  Kylin urged Wylett forward, pulling out his sword to hack at the vines.

           Before he reached her, more vines whipped out and wrapped themselves around Wylett’s legs, pulling the horse to the ground and throwing Kylin off.  A dog nearby saved Kylin the trouble of saving his horse, biting and tearing at the vines that ensnared Wylett.

           Kylin scrambled to his feet and rushed to his fellow Ranger’s aid.  He gripped her by the arm to prevent her from being dragged farther and hacked at the vines.  He was vaguely aware of the noises around him that told of similar predicaments of the other Rangers.  One or two of the dogs were barking.

           When the female Ranger was free enough to pull out her own sword, she helped him in cutting back the rest of the vines.  As they were nearly finished, a yelp behind him made Kylin glance back at the dog and Wylett.

           Wylett was half-freed, but the vines had gone after the horse’s savior.  They wrapped themselves around the dog’s body and muzzled it, pulling it up into the air.

           Straight for one of the gaping mouths of the flowers.

           Kylin left the Ranger to finish the last of her bindings and rushed at the flower about to eat the dog.  As he hurried to prevent the dog becoming plant food, he passed the flower he had hit with a lit arrow.  The flower burst into flame, sparks flying in every direction, some landing on his clothes and burning exposed skin.

           He slashed at the unharmed bloom, the dog almost in its mouth.  It made no screech, no sound that it had been harmed, though a couple of its petals were now tattered.  Kylin raised his sword again.

           It dropped the dog and next thing he knew, vines had wrapped themselves around his forearms.  Before he could begin to fight the vines off, the bloom lunged itself at him, its petals clinging to his right arm.  It pressed its center against his shoulder.  A sharp pain followed and he cried out.  He felt something warm and wet flow down his arm.

           The flower pushed him to the ground, digging further into his shoulder.  There was a vicious growl, a flash of brown and black, and the flower was ripped from Kylin’s shoulder.

           His vision was blurring and everything spun, but he collected his thoughts enough to use his legs to kick out against the vines.  Beside him, he could hear the growls and yips of the dog as it fought the bloom.  Somewhere above his head he could hear the crackle of fire as it ate away at the vines it could reach.  Someone stepped close by and helped him with his bonds.  When he was free, the female Ranger helped to him to his feet.

           When he was standing, however unsteadily, she turned to face the grove and began flinging her lighting fluid for the arrows into the grove.  When Kylin pushed through the mental fog enough to understand what she was doing, he pulled out his fluid and did the same, trying to do it as quickly as possible.

           The moment his bottle was empty, he came to the dog’s aid.  The dog was bloodied, but the bloom was even more tattered. Using his left hand, as his right was becoming hard to move, he slashed at the neck of the bloom.  Now disconnected, the useless bloom dropped to the ground, unmoving as Kylin dizzily stood over it.

           A large wooosh! behind him told him that the Ranger had set fire to the fluid.  Ahead of him, he could see Ivelios fighting beside another Ranger as two large blooms bore down on them.  To his right, he heard a dragging sound.  He looked to see that the vines had rewrapped themselves around his horse and were pulling Wylett closer to the grove.  Wylett struggled against the vines, but there was little the horse could do.  The vines had wrapped themselves around every part they could, including the poor horse’s neck.  Every time Wylett thrashed, the vines tightened.

           It was over before Kylin could even take a step.  He didn’t know if he heard it, or just felt it somewhere within him. There was a snap, and Wylett stopped moving.

           The rush of rage that followed that snap cleared his head.  The dizziness was ignored in the pure fury that this thing had actually gone and murdered his horse.  He used what movement he could with his right arm to grasp the vines that still held the horse and hacked away at them.  When he was satisfied with the amount of damage done, ensuring that the vines would not come back out to grab another victim, he made his way over to Ivelios and the other Ranger.

           Another bloom stretched its ugly, good-for-nothing head out, peering at him hungrily.  As it spread its petals apart to lunge at him and give him another bite mark, he thrust his sword out, plunging it deep down the throat.  He lifted upwards, causing the bloom to split at the top.  It pulled back, shaking its head.  When it was clear that it wasn’t going to go after him again, he continued on his way.

           He could feel the heat of the fire as it grew.  Smoke filled the place as the fire burned away at the wood that had been exposed to the rain and had not yet dried.  Kylin pulled up the neck of his shirt to help him breathe.

           He reached the two blossoms giving Ivelios and the other Ranger trouble.  He struck the neck of one of them, causing it to whirl around to see the new attacker.  Ivelios took advantage of the distraction and grappled it, holding its head so it couldn’t bite Kylin as he continued to slash away.  When it was disconnected and lifeless, Ivelios and Kylin turned to fight the second blossom.

           Free from the flower’s relentless attacks, the other Ranger dropped onto one knee and pulled out an arrow.  He lit the tip and nocked, firing into the grove, now half on fire.

           Kylin could see silhouettes of other Rangers, horses, and at least one dog farther away, closer to the grove.  He moved to go help them, but Ivelios grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

           Ivelios’s mouth was moving, but Kylin wasn’t catching any of the words he was saying.  He gave Ivelios a determined look.  If the Elf was asking him to stay back, then this was his way of letting him know that it wasn’t going to happen.

           The look displeased Ivelios, and he pulled Kylin back further, his mouthing becoming more intense.

           Something in him told him that he should have known what Ivelios was saying merely by the formation of his lips, but he was vaguely aware of the fact that things were not connecting correctly in his mind.  The other Rangers in group needed his help.  The flower had not yet been destroyed.

           Ivelios pushed him back, turned on his heel and darted back to his horse. Kylin lost his balance from the push and landed on the ground.  As he was pushing himself back up, Ivelios was racing towards the others.  Kylin glanced back to see where the female Ranger who had been behind was.  When he couldn’t see her, he scrambled back to his feet.

           Or tried to.  His limbs weren’t listening to him.  The fury that fueled him could not save him from whatever prevented him from working properly.  Movement out of the corner of his eye made him look back at the Ranger who had been with Ivelios.  Turning his head to the right was now difficult.  This Ranger was saying something to him, but just as it was with Ivelios, Kylin couldn’t hear a word that came out of his mouth.

           Had he gone deaf?

           He looked back at the grove.

           Certainly not.  Couldn’t he hear the crackle of the fire?  The barking of the dogs, the thuds of swords, the cries of the others?

           When he stopped to ask himself this, he realized that, no, he couldn’t.  What he heard was what his brain thought he should have been hearing.

           Was it the smoke that was making it hard to breathe?  He was now finding it hard to draw breath.

           He tried to twist himself back to mention this to the other Ranger, to tell him that the smoke was becoming overpowering.  But now his whole right side was too stiff to move.

           At least his left arm worked.

           He pushed himself up into a sitting position.  Maybe if he got some blood flowing again, everything would work itself out and he could go help Ivelios.

           Even sitting was too much.  The world spun.  Something in him burned, but he could not pinpoint the location of the pain. Things were getting blurry.

           He fell back to the ground, fighting hard to breathe.  He was aware of someone dropping by his side, but he could not feel them, or hear them.  He could barely make out their outline.

           So this was dying?

           So this was dying.

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Bloopers

Word count: 2150

Warnings: tickling, fluff

Ok, this one is a little different than the others I've written; it's about the actual cast (specifically our fav British actor Mr. Hiddleston 😉)

* * *

“And… cut! Alright, let’s move on to the next battle scene then.”

The voice of the director echoing through the set snapped you out of your thoughts. You stood up and stretched a little, preparing to film the first scene of the day that you’d be part of. Script in hand, you joined the other cast members on the set for the scene briefing.

It still felt surreal that you had actually gotten to this point. You had signed up for an audition the moment you’d heard this role was open, figuring you could at least get some exposure by trying out for a big-name movie like a Marvel movie. As an up-and-coming actress, you needed all the exposure you could get. Never in a million years did you think you’d actually land a part in the movie, let alone the role of a supporting character.

You were trying desperately to get over being star-struck by the actors and actresses you were working with. They were all surprisingly down-to-earth, nothing like you’d expected from such famous stars as these. The moment you’d arrived on set, they had welcomed you with open arms as they had all the cast members, no matter how small their role was. They’d been trying to get you to relax a little, to see them as friends and coworkers rather than A-list celebrities. And you were trying – really­ trying – but you were still pretty shy and reserved off-set.

“Ready for your first shoot of the day?” Chris Hemsworth asked as you approached the crowd of cast members standing in the middle of the set.

“Uh… yeah, I think so!” you replied uncertainly. You glanced down at the script in your hands. This particular scene didn’t have many lines, as it was mostly an action scene, but those were the scenes you tended to struggle with. You had gotten good at getting into character when you had to have conversations, but you really had to think hard about how your character would move in battle.

“Come on, you have to say it like you mean it!” he chided, grasping your shoulders in emphasis. “Try again – are you ready?”

“Yes sir!” you shouted. He laughed heartily, releasing you with a final pat on the shoulder.

“Alright, it may be a battle scene, but you aren’t a soldier. We’ll work on it.” The flowing crimson cape of his costume swished along the floor as he turned to find his place in the circle of cast members. You followed suit, slipping into an opening right beside Tom Hiddleston. He glanced at you with a warm smile, which you returned timidly.

“He can be a bit overenthusiastic sometimes, can’t he?” Tom whispered. You nodded, looking across to where Chris was now casually twirling his hammer by the strap on one finger. “He is right, though. I’m certain you’ll do just fine. Give yourself a little credit.”

“Thanks,” you said appreciatively. You turned to face the director as he reviewed the upcoming scene.

It was a pretty standard fight scene by Marvel standards. Your character was battling alongside Thor and Loki as the villain attempted to slip past your defenses to gain access to Odin’s vault of magic artifacts. Magic, explosions, weapon-swinging… the whole works. There were a complex number of camera angles included in the scene, which meant a lot of stopping and restarting of filming to change position.

Physically, this type of scene was exhausting. It required a lot of ducking, jumping, and running, not to mention a LOT of falling. It wasn’t uncommon for you to go home with a few scrapes and bruises after this type of active scene. Like Chris and Tom, you insisted on doing your own stunt work. It wasn’t like you were jumping from buildings or anything like that; you knew you could handle this yourself.

“Ok, next clip!” the director called out, prompting you to prepare for the most difficult part of the scene. In this part, your character is standing a bit too close to an explosion and is thrown backward into Loki, who catches you before you fall backward onto the ground. You stood still as the stunt crew hooked you up to the wire that would yank you backward.

“Nervous?” Tom asked, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“A little, maybe. Is it fun, being dragged around on the wire?” you inquired.

“It’s a bit like riding a roller coaster. Except… you’re not in a cart, and you may crash into things.”

“Hmm. Comforting.” He patted your shoulder firmly a couple of times before walking past you to get into position for the shot.

“Alright, y/n, we’re not going to count down for you – we need a genuine element of surprise in this scene. Got it?”

“Understood,” you confirmed. Your heart was racing with adrenaline, anticipating the moment you would feel the rope tug you backward. Not to mention, Tom was going to be the one to catch you. Your heart fluttered a bit more at that thought.

It felt like minutes went by, although it was probably only seconds. Suddenly you felt the harness under your costume tighten around your waist as the wire finally pulled you backward. True to character, your arms flailed out as your heels slid backward across the floor for a millisecond before Tom caught you, sliding his hands under your outstretched arms to hold you up.

The sudden gentle pressure of his fingertips under your arms tickled like hell. Your knees buckled a little and you yelped in surprise. Tom lowered you to the ground, giving you a moment to rest after your first take.

“The fall was perfect, y/n, but try not to bend your knees like that when Tom catches you. Remember, you’re supposed to be a fierce warrior; your character would jump right back up to their feet,” the director called from off set. You avoided Tom’s gaze as he helped you to regain your footing.

“Did I hurt you? You shouted when I caught you,” he asked, concern weighing in his tone.

“No! Nope, I’m fine, sorry. Just got nervous. First take and all, you know?” you responded quickly, trying to hide your blush.

“Understandable. I recall the first time I was pulled down to the floor by a wire during the infamous ‘Hulk smash’ scene…” he chuckled. “I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you.”

You set up for a second take, this time heart pounding for different reasons. How embarrassing would it be if Tom found out what really happened there? You needed to focus more this time.

This time, when the wire grew taught, you were at least prepared for the swooping sensation in your stomach as you slid backward. Once again, Tom caught you right on cue, his hands lifting your upper body up from under your arms. It still caught you off guard how much it tickled. You let a giggle slip out and went limp in his arms again, nearly causing him to drop you to the floor.

“Cut!” The director walked closer to you and Tom so you could hear him better. “Don’t forget – don’t bend your knees. And it’s probably breaking character to be grinning like that after getting launched by an explosion.”

“I know it’s fun doing stunts and all, but you have to think like your character even during the action scenes,” Tom advised, helping you up off the floor once again.

“It’s not that! I just… never mind,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks burning again. Tom raised his eyebrows at you in confusion.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, ducking down to catch your gaze as you stared down at your feet.

“Promise. I’ll get it this time,” you assured.

You both set up for take three, this time determined you would get it completely right. You gritted your teeth, trying to envision the actual explosion they’d be adding with CGI later. The wire tugged, and you flew backward once again into Tom’s waiting arms. You almost maintained your composure, until he started to pull you to your feet, fingertips digging into the hollows under your arms. You shrieked, letting out a few more giggles as you stumbled forward to evade his fingers.

“Cut!” You steeled yourself and turned around to look at Tom, who was giving you a confused look. You shot him a look of apology.

“Am I missing a joke? Did Hemsworth put you up to something?” Tom asked, placing his hands on his hips, a grin tugging at his lips. Even after you ruined the take three times in a row, he only used the kindest tone with you. You couldn’t lie to him.

“No… I just… when you slide your hands under my arms to catch me, it… it sort of tickles. A lot,” you mumbled sheepishly. You risked a glance up from the floor to look at Tom, whose eyes had lit up with understanding.

“Ahh! Now it all makes sense!” he exclaimed. “Well, I do apologize; it was not my intention to tickle you. I’ll try not to this take.” He shot you a mischievous wink, not unlike his character.

“Thanks… I’ll try to keep my composure this time,” you promised.

The director shouted additional directions and reminders to you as you set up for yet another take. As you got into position, you turned your head to look at Tom standing behind you. He grinned at you, although you couldn’t tell if it was a smile of encouragement or a mischievous smirk. Maybe it was the costume…

The wire tugged you backwards once again, and the outcome was the same. Tom even tried to catch you closer to your upper arms, but the sensation was still too much for you to handle. A rapid stream of giggles bubbled from your chest as your muscles weakened once again. Tom was laughing with you this time, though, now that he knew better.

“You did that on purpose!!” you exclaimed, spinning around to face him once you’d regained your footing.

“On purpose!?” His mouth dropped open in mock offense. “You think I did that on purpose?? Come here, and I’ll show you ‘on purpose.’” You shrieked, spinning around to run away, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could get very far. He tugged you backwards, trapping you against him in a bear hug.

“Wait!! C-can’t we talk about this?” you begged.

“Sorry, no can do.” Before you could protest further, Tom’s fingers were digging into your ribs, eliciting a startled squeal from you. He laughed out loud at your overzealous reaction. “Mahaybe… eheh… maybe this will help you get all the giggles out, hmm?”

“No, Tom, wahahait!!” you begged, folding into yourself and twisting around to break his hold without success.

“I apologize, my dear, but this is for your own good. Can’t have you continuing to mess up these takes, now can we?” His fingers darted up and down your sides and ribs, and your knees buckled beneath you, sinking to the floor. Tom followed you down, still holding fast while he continued to skitter his fingertips over your belly.

“Stahahap!!” you pleaded, grasping feebly at his wrists as laughter poured out of you.

“Now, honestly, y/n – this is supposed to be a battle scene and you’re laughing like a schoolgirl,” he teased, wrestling to hold you still while he continued to torment you. “How are we going to get through this scene if you don’t start taking it seriously?”

“THEN STAHAHAP TICKLING MEHEHE!” you retorted, yelping as his hands spidered higher up your ribcage.

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Tom wrapped one arm further around your ribs so he could pull your arms up, giving him unrestricted access under your arms. He scribbled maddeningly gently at the hollows, making you explode with uncontrollable laughter.

“OK! OK! IHIHI’LL GET IT RIGHT THIS TIHIHIME!!” you shouted. Deciding you’d had enough torture, Tom finally released you from his hold. You took a moment to catch your breath before looking up at your fellow castmates, who were smirking at you, much to your dismay. You felt heat rising to your face as you picked yourself up off the floor, turning to face a grinning Tom (who was looking more and more like Loki by the second with that mischievous gleam in his eye).

“Well then! I’ve had my fun for the day,” he announced casually.

“Thahat was so mean!” you groaned. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you in a one-armed hug for a moment.

“You know you loved every second of it,” he teased.

“Shut up, you,” you muttered, pushing him away jokingly. The two of you got back into position to try the take again.

This time, you got it right. Because honestly, nothing could have been worse than the torment he’d just put you through. But, if you were being honest with yourself, he was right - you had loved every second of it.

Hey Professor! I was wondering if there's a story behind your aversion to water and water type pokemon?

Well yeah kind of. But it is a bit of a long one, so buckle up buttercup.

When I was very young I lived on a farm, a stones throw from the ocean, you could leave the back door, and walk down about 30meters and be at a cliff face that dropped down to rocks and waves that would crashed against the stone cliff face no matter the weather, and though the view was beautiful, it held a lot of danger. I was free to wander, my family were very free-reign with my upbringing, and so I had a lot of time to myself. They had to run a farm, handle a herd of 300 strong Miltank, plus the 15-20 Tauros, numerous gogoat, torchic, some Rapidash, mareep, you know, the works. No time to watch the kid.

Our farm was so far away from other people, I never got to hang with other kids, but I liked that a lot, never was social. So my one friend was Valka, an angry little vulpix who had been entrusted to me, instead of being put down. She had broken into the torchic coop and got herself stuck, after killing many of them. So after fighting for her life and arguing her case to the adults, I was granted her to prove I could reform her, or be trusted? I’m not entierly sure, it was a very long time ago, all the same, we paired up, and eventually bonded through reading and working together. A silent partnership, I watched the chickens, she watched me, it worked for us.

Where I was got nothing but heat, all the time, winter was hot, spring was hot, summer, like the devils butthole, autumn, hot but rainy. The sweet relief from this was swimming in the ocean. Back then I was confident! I’d wade into tide pools, hang around all kinds of water Pokemon, loved it, you could hardly get me out, eventually I got a little older and was trusted to use a reasonably sharp metal stick to go spear hunting for stunfish to eat, and krabby to boil up. It was good, even Val would hop about the rocky ledges to the tide pools, and accompany me far out, almost to the edge of the reef during low tide.

Little did I know the dangers I was right next to, as a child you don’t focus on that, you deal with what’s directly in front of you for the most part. So one day I’m out with Val, fishing as per usual, one of the farm staff was on the beach keeping an eye on me half heartedly, but we wandered round the coast’s harsh corner, into new territory, and out of sight. The rocky ledges were harder to traverse but I was determined, I had plenty of time to check out the new location and get back before the tide changed, so why not right?

One misplaced footing, that’s all it took, I slipped into a pool that was 4-5 meters across, scratched my leg on some dead coral, and sunk, way deeper than any rock pool I was use to wading into. This under water cavern opened up into a space that could possibly hold a Wailord. It was dark, and cold, and the tide seemed to pull me further down. Val being a fire type was adverse to get in, and I am to this day glad she didn’t jump in. With the water dragging me further down, I felt my whole body go cold as the light above got dimmer, and the pressure of being under that far began to hurt my chest, ears feeling like they’d explode under the depth.

The scratch I’d acquired on my way into this watery space led Pokemon to me, first small, a school of chinchou, they seemed passive and quickly left me to sink further. Then a great cluster of Staryu, one even tried to pull me back up to the surface, but they again fled, something moved behind me, made my blood run cold. I swivelled and clocked eyes with a Carvanha, one, then two, no three. I heard the area was riddled with them, but because I stayed in shallow water I never got too close, and seemed to consider myself safe. One got a little closer, but they all fled, something far bigger and way meaner was close by.

I heard water above me shift, something disturbed it, looking up all I could see was a figure, big but coming towards me, and below, another form shifted, the far meaner Pokemon everything had been afraid of. A Sharpedo, white tip on its fins, rows of teeth as it’s mouth hung open, coming at me with unnervingly slow speed. I’m usually pretty chill with Pokemon but this one just didn’t take its eyes off of me, seemed to look through, I was snack sized compared to this thing, and it was very aware of that.

As the air began to run low, and fear set in I struggled and kicked, and squirmed, and did just about everything I could to look bigger and meaner than the Sharpedo, who just kept slowly swimming forward, so calm yet completely focused. It took a bite at me, enough to nick my leg, but I was pulled to one side, by a familiar family Pokemon. My mother had a particularly kind Azumarill, who had noticed torrents of fire being spewed from Val as she sent an alarm to my disappearance above the water I had sunk beneath. The big water mouse Pokemon had dove in from the cliffs at the end of the garden and come to the rescue, just in time too.

We all jetted our the ocean at such speed, landing hard on the coral rocks, scrapes and scratches, covered in cuts from impact, the shadow of that Pokemon that stayed in the deep rock pool vanishing into tunnels. I never ran so fast to get to land, it was far too close for my liking. I did not volenterily get in the water again after that.

In the years ahead while I stayed on the land, occasionally fishermen would be pulled to shore, missing limbs, some not surviving the waters. There was sightings of that same Pokemon, out far in the deeps, past the reef, but occasionally its white tipped fin would be seen in the odd deep pool, waiting for something to fall in.

I couldn’t get back in the water after that, not confidently. It’s not that I don’t like water Pokemon, I love them, most are very kind, well rounded and certainly fun Little dudes, I just can’t give them the care and time I would like, I don’t like to be in the environment they prefer, and getting into a man-made pool with them is about as far as I can go. I use to not even manage that, it’s taken me years to get ahold of my fears, and now I will happily don waders and get into fresh water ponds and lakes if they’re small enough and trustworthy. I do all the pond care on the island, but rivers and the ocean are still a no go for me. I don’t mind a boat ride, I can stomach a wade into water up to my knees, but any further and I lose my cool.

Over the years I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been fully submerged, and none of them have been pleasant. The only time I willing have gone into water is to get Val, who had been thrown in herself. She was afraid, I had to go get her out.

Now days Professor Grey handles mostly all of the ocean based work, and I get a lot of time with his water Pokemon when they come on land, so it’s been easier being around the ocean as a whole, and coming to terms with my weaknesses. Don’t think I’ll rush to get in anytime soon but it’s not something I’d never do at any cost. I know it’s beautiful down there, and it holds some special memories for me, so there will always be a quiet respect for it all, and the things that live in it.

Despite fears I would never condemn Sharpedo as a Pokemon, I have had the joy of working with some lovely individuals, and despite my personal aversion, I know they have a huge part to play in the eco system, and hold great importance to many other species and the way the environment manages itself. They are good, I just got a bit of bad luck with the one I had a close encounter with.

Fanclub; Chapter 1

EoWells x Reader

Some of the STAR Labs employees have a secret fanclub where they discuss Harrison Wells and share pictures they take when they think he isn't looking. Problem is it's not quite as secret as they think it is. The man himself seems to have taken an interest in the the little group, finding it to be the perfect place to find willing partners to satisfy his needs. And you're his next pick.

Work is dying down for the evening at STAR Labs. Chemists are checking that all the storage units are set to the proper temperatures. Engineers are making sure that everything that needs to be powered down is. Lab techs are cleaning up their stations. But nearly everybody is discussing their plans for the weekend.

There is one worker who is not engaging in such conversations. You are currently crammed between two sections of machinery, determined to get this wiring finished before leaving for the day. That way, Monday, bright and early your team can start doing test runs.

You are not engaging in conversation with others but rather are talking to yourself as you work. “Some red over here, blue wire over there.” Your grin would light up the room if anybody could see it. “I just love when a color-coded array comes together.” There’s a buzz on your right butt-cheek, and you squeal in surprise.

“Everything alright in there?” One of the other scientists looks up from the desk.

“Yeah, Bri,” you extract yourself from the machine parts. “My phone just went off, and I thought something shocked me.”

“Girl, I can not tell you how often that happens to me,” Bri takes her purse from a drawer and a jacket off the chair. “So, what are your plans for the weekend. More number crunching?”

You pull your phone from your back pocket. “Actually my college roommate is having a bachelorette party tonight. So I said I would swing by the bar for a bit.”

“Sounds fun,” Bri gives a wave before heading to the door. “Don’t party too hard.”

She returns the wave before opening a group chat app on her phone to see what the notification is about.

KittyCat42; O.M.G did you see Dr. Wells today? a shirt THAT tight can not be workplace appropriate!!!

Attached is a photo taken from a smartphone at an angle in which the subject does not seem to be aware their picture is being taken. Dr. Harrison Wells is leaning over a desk, examining something on a monitor. Kitty is right; his shirt is very tight, his biceps bulge through the long black sleeves.

You grin, considering sending a reply, but another message comes in first.

YummyBitch73; Think he’s got plans? Looking that good, he’s got to be going out tonight.

Your thumbs move across the screen to type a quick response.

BabyDoll14; Maybe he has a date tonight?

KittyCat42; wonder who the lucky girl is?

You lean against a nearby workbench, smirking at the screen.

---

On the other side of the lab, somebody picks up their phone to check the barrage of notifications coming in. They chuckle before adding their own two cents.

Speedy22: Hey, who knows, it could be a lucky guy.

YummyBitch73: Oh you wish, he is a lady killer through and through

BabyDoll14: I mean, who are we to judge if it’s a lucky lady or gent. Maybe he swings one way, maybe he swings both ways. Who cares, we’re just here to talk about his ass behind his back.

“Speedy’ nods, almost respecting the woman on the other side of the screen for staying objective about objectifying her boss.

Speedy22: Speaking of ass, I got this one yesterday

He opens his gallery and scrolls until an ‘appropriate picture is found. A nice shot of Dr. Wells from behind; the quality is incredible for a smartphone shot. The man’s shirt is riding up, showing a nice strip of the skin of his back, even a bit of where his boxers rise above the waistband of his hands.

YummyBitch73: Damn Speedy, you always get the good ones. You’ll have to teach me some photography lessons sometime.

KittyCat42: what kind of camera are you using? The quality is so gooooood.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice draws his attention away from his device. “Are you staying late again tonight?”

Harrison Wells takes a breath to look her up and down, mentally running through his mind all the employees to try and remember who it is at his office door. “I’ll be headed out soon; I just have to wrap some things up.”

He recalls who she is when he sees the look she’s giving him. Brianna Masters, a specialist working down in Lab C. She would have had to go out of her way to get to his office before leaving. Self-proclaimed president of the Dr. Wells Fanclub, he had just been interacting with the group chat of; after the former president left with a job offer at Mercury Labs. She had been making goo-goo eyes at him since her interview three months ago.

“Well,” Bri twirls a curl of her hair, fluttering her eyelashes. “Harrison, you know I was wondering if you might like to take me out to get some drinks tonight?”

Dr. Wells tries to hide his displeasure at the thought. She wasn’t his type, physically, mentally, emotionally, “I have plans in the morning that require a clear head. Miss. Masters. Now is there anything of importance that you need?” The man was not adverse to flights of fancy to pass the time; he wouldn’t be keeping an eye on the little Fanclub of his if he wasn’t willing to look for ‘interested parties,’ but this particular woman has been of no real interest to him.

For reasons such as how she pouts at his response, “Well, having fun is important.” She mutters before wandering off down the hall, turning her attention to her phone.

YummyBitch73; holy Shit! He just asked me out for drinks. It sucks so much that I have to drive out to Coast City; I”d have taken him up in a heartbeat otherwise.

----

Back in Lab C, you finally finish with the maintenance on the machine. You check your phone once more while heading over to the desk and nearly cackle at what you’re reading. Everybody knows that Bri is full of shit, but there’s no point in calling it out and causing discourse.

You mute the phone to focus on your computer. While humming a quiet tune, you work on moving files to the USB stick plugged into the monitor.

“Fuck,” you whisper, seeing the download time in comparison to the clock on the screen. Of course, you could just leave it be, take the weekend off. It’s not like you get paid extra to run calculations at home.

17 minutes later

“Nonononono, wait, please!” You’re half running to the street as the bus pulls away, leaving you in the illuminated circle of a streetlamp, cursing yourself. That was going to be the last bus coming this way for the night. If you walk home, you’ll never make it in time to change for the party. You might not even make the event at all. You pace up and down the sidewalk, contemplating your options.

A car pulls up beside you, tinted window rolling down, “Need a lift?”

You stop, shocked, “Oh, no I…” you pause, looking through the window, “Dr. Wells, hi...hey.” You swallow your pride. “I would really love to get a ride on-with, with you.” Internally you cringe at how that came out, but figure he probably wouldn’t have heard such a minor slip.

The lock clicks open, and you reach for the door.

“Maple Apartments on South 11th street, right?” Harrison glances at you as you get in the car.

You pause before shutting the door, “do I want to know how you know that?”

He laughs, and you jump a bit at it, “I can see how that would sound a little suspicious.” His smile is reassuring, and his blue eyes are kind behind his glasses. “It was on your registration forms when you started. I enter new employee data myself. Total recall can be useful even for small matters.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shutting the door and buckling in. “I really appreciate this Dr. Wells, I would have been so late tonight if I didn’t get home to change soon.”

“Bit plans tonight?” Harrison asks as he starts driving. Truth is he had suspected you’d be missing her bus. He had seen you running after the last bus or driven past you walking home numerous times out his way out. You had quite the habit of working until the absolute last moment.

You smile, twiddling your thumbs to keep your hands occupied. “Yeah, I’m meeting a friend at the new bar that opened down the street from my place. She’s getting married soon, and since I can’t make the wedding, I promised I would spend at least a couple hours at her bachelorette party.” You aren’t exactly sure why you’re volunteering this information to your boss. It would be inappropriate to be so casual with him; then again, it’s also inappropriate to be part of a Fanclub that secretly takes pictures of him and talks about how great his ass looks.

Harrison ‘hmms’ in thought. “Why can’t you make it to the wedding?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, taking a moment to take in the way you sit, act, look, before returning his eyes to the road.

“Oh, they scheduled it for a Wednesday, so,” you look towards him just moments after he looks away. The first thing you notice is his hair; whenever you’ve seen him in the morning, it’s perfectly combed and straight, but it seems like as the day went on, it began to take on a life of its own. While the back is still nice and neat, the front is sticking out in all kinds of directions.

“You could have asked for the day off,” Dr. Wells offers, “Am I such a terrible boss that you think I”d deny you some vacation after all your hard work?”

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks at what seems to be a compliment to her work ethic, “Oh no, I don’t think that at all. It’s just that, well, we have so much work to do. Every day we get a little closer to your dreams of the particle accelerator, and I want to contribute absolutely everything I can to that dream.” You smile. “You’re going to do such incredible things for the world of science Dr. Wells, and I don’t want to waste any time that could be spent helping you.”

The man is somewhat stunned by this. He’d attributed her long hours and determination to personal ambition. “What about you? Do you want history to remember you for your achievements?”

You bite your lower lip in thought at the question, “I mean sure, it would be nice to be recognized for my contribution, but,” she takes a deep breath, “I’m more concerned about how my work will impact the world, not so much if I’m remembered for it. Anyways you’re the true genius. I can tell that STAR Labs will make big changes and put humanity on a path towards the future. As long as I get to be a part of that, it’s all I really need.”

Harrison does a low chuckle at your sentiment, amused by the naivety. You speak with such hope and wonder and admiration. If you knew the truth, how horrified would you be? The realization of the end goal of the particle accelerator, the effects across history that your determination would wreak.

He grins, “Well, I am glad to have such a dedicated employee, but I do believe that one off day is not going to hurt our progress.”

You purse your lips, “You don’t come down to Lab C very often; you’d be surprised how off the rails things can go when I’m not there. Anyways I would rather work than go to a wedding. It’s not my kind of scene.”

He can sense that you are holding something back but doesn’t press the issue any further. He’s reached your apartment building anyways.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to give you the time off,” he says as he parks.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reach for the door handle, “oh, and thank you so much for the ride. I really owe you one.”

Dr. Wells makes a mental note about cashing in that favor later. “You just stay safe and enjoy yourself tonight.” He smiles warmly at you as you wave goodbye, but when the door shuts, his grin turns a bit darker. He watches you walk away, eyes tracing the curve of your figure, resting on the beautiful shape of your rear, right up until you disappear into your building.

As he begins to drive away, he catches sight of himself in the rearview mirror. There is something about this form of his that seems to drive the ladies crazy, and he wasn’t opposed to taking advantage of that. While pulling back into the street and driving away, he thinks on his situation.

For 13 years now, Eobard Thawne has been trapped in this god-forsaken time period. For a while, he had focused solely on his mission, rarely interacting with others unless it served a greater purpose. But he was still a man, subject to desire. At first, it was almost enough to make him regret allowing Harrison Well’s wife to die, she could have filled his needs easily. But that woman had been intelligent; she’d have discovered his identity eventually, so allowing her to die had been for the best.

Still, after a few years of isolation, Thawne had found the need unbearable and began seeing ways to fill the hole that was forming in his chest. Little flings, one-off nights where he indulged his carnal side, allowed himself the pleasure of another’s body before quickly parting ways with them, when he discovered that a fanclub devoted to him had been formed amongst his employees, that made the whole thing easier.

Joining the group chat under a false name was easy enough. It inflated his ego every time he read them discussing how great they thought he looked, and he was more than happy to provide material for them to gush over. And with that, it was like he had been given a list of women who would fuck him with no questions asked. All he had to do was choose. Of course, he has to be wary of those who might get too clingy or go off telling other people. But it’s not that hard to week those types out of the pack.

Thawne notices magenta neon as he’s driving. A club with a grand opening sign out front. He smiles, knowing that now not only does he have a new prey lure in, but the perfect hunting ground as well.

Some snippets from the Nein’s week at the Blooming Grove.

-----

There is a shadow of something between them. Something in the way their shoulders brush as they stand next to each other, in the way the Scourger's broad shoulders relax ever-so-slightly when Caleb is near, in the intensity with which he watches Caleb's face as he speaks, in the way Caleb's eyes travel slow, lingering paths up the Scourger's muscular arms when he thinks no one is watching.

Caleb has his back to Essek, standing over a desk, perusing a book the Scourger has lent him. The Scourger is next to him, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the desk with an air of ease and familiarity, as if he did not try to kill them all mere days ago. He is facing Essek, but not looking at him.

Until he is.

Brown eyes catch lilac ones in their stare, and a wolfish grin curls its way around the handsome features. He says something to Caleb in Zemnian, without breaking Essek's eye contact. It sounds like a question, to which Caleb replies casually.

It is foolish, Essek knows, to maintain eye contact like this. Any number of spells may be wrought thus, but he cannot find it in himself to look away.

The Scourger asks another question, his voice dropping an octave. He forfeits the staring contest to trace Caleb's form with his eyes, down then up, and there is still a wolfish edge to his playful grin as leans in past the boundary of Caleb's shoulder.

Without looking up from his book, Caleb places a hand on the near side of the Scourger's face and slowly but firmly extends his arm out. The Scourger, chuckling, allows himself to be pushed over far enough that he has to take a step away from Caleb to maintain his balance.

His eyes alight on Essek again. He says something to Caleb with a sigh, and then lopes out of the library, his eyes on Essek's all the while. Just before he floats down out of sight, he gives Essek a wink.

Once all is still, Caleb looks up, finally, toward the exit. His shoulder dips slightly as he turns to look at Essek, but Essek's eyes are already back on his own book.

------

"Anyway, it's a really good book, Essek. I think you'll like it."

"I am sure it is, but romance novels have never been my, ah, cup of tea."

Jester draws the small brush dipped in black laquer carefully across the final nail of Essek's right hand. "It's not just a romance novel, Essek. It's literature. You're missing out." She says the last part in a singsong voice as she leans back to survey her handiwork. "Are you sure you don't want me to put some little designs on them. I could make them very tasteful, you know, like some little stars or your favorite rune or something."

They are seated in front of the fireplace in Jester's room atop a make-shift bed of soft pillows and blankets. Fey cats sit among the pillows alongside them, some with tails holding aloft trays of milk, cookies, pastries, tea, and fruit, others merely there for their evening nap.

"I will likely be returning to Vurmas outpost soon, Jester. I do not want anything that will draw too much attention from the soldiers."

"Oh, alright," she says. Her tail sways slowly behind her like a disappointed shake of the head. "You do pull off the monochromatic look really well. Next time, through, we should try something different, just for fun, you know?" She gives him a bright, fanged grin.

"Yes, next time."

Essek thought, after a century of den politics, he could hide his heart from anyone (evidence shows even himself), but hiding it from Jester Lavorre is another matter entirely. She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously.

"There is going to be a next time, Essek. You're so smart -- I'm sure you can figure out a solution for anything. So there is going to be a next time, alright, Essek? Promise me."

"Jester--"

"Promise!" She holds her pinkie finger out toward him imperiously. The logical part of Essek's mind whirs with explanations, caveats, problems, but Jester is looking at him with such determination, such faith.

Slowly, carefully, he loops his pinkie around hers.

"I promise."

-----

Essek observes, a little wryly, that it promises to be another beautiful sunlit day, when a small but bright flash of light catches his eye painfully as he walks through the Grove after breakfast. He winces reflexively, and when he looks back, the glimmer is gone. Curious. He pauses, waiting, eyes carefully scanning the mist-clung leaves and gilded treetops. There is a distant rustling, a whisper of breeze, and -- there it is again! A flash and gone, but he sees the direction of its source this time.

Diverting from his usual path, he strikes off in search of it. He drifts into one of the wilder reaches of the grove, skirting mounds and headstones, overgrown with flowers of every color, shimmering with dew. Finally, the tall brush ahead of him clears and he finds...Fjord?

Fjord is lying on the damp undergrowth, the dawning sunlight glinting off the metal buckles of his armor. His limbs are thrown aside at funny angles as though he had fallen, but Essek's keen ears tell him his breathing is normal. From what Essek can tell, he is awake and uninjured.

"Fjord?"

"Mm?" One yellow eye opens to survey him coyly.

"What are you doing?"

"I have been ... grievously injured," Fjord rasps with great melodrama, his left hand moving slightly to bring Essek's attention to a wooden dowell a few inches from his knee.

The puzzle pieces fall into place.

"Ah." Essek murmurs, "This is a trap." A toothy grin spreads across the half-orc's handsome features, but Essek is already scanning his surroundings, ears straining, for any sign to give away his hunter. He does not want to make it too easy for him.

There is a rustle of leaves to his left.

He turns toward it, casting Shield with a little more flourish than is strictly necessary, and -- twang--FWUMP! He hisses as a dowell hits him hard in the back of his right shoulder. An orange cat with familiar blue eyes pops its head out of the flowers in front of him. Catleb tilts his head playfully as victorious giggles erupt from the tree branches behind Essek.

Essek looks down at his shoulder as though surveying the damage. "I am not sure a shoulder wound is instantly mortal."

"The arrows are poisoned," Fjord supplies casually.

"Ah, of course."

"And if you don't die with enough gravitas, you'll be made to do it again."

Essek suppresses a sigh and a smirk. He supposes he cannot have enough practice faking his death.

-----

"Alright, man, that's enough for right now," Beau says as she closes her notebook. "I think we both need some food and some fresh air." She rises from her seat, stretches, and claps Caleb on the shoulder as she walks by. "Let's go, dude. Don't make me come back in here for you, 'cause you know I will." And with that, she walks past the shadow, out of the Clays' kitchen, into the sunshine.

Caleb rubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. Eins, zwei, drei...

Constance Clay is seated to his left. She is a calm, abiding presence, listening without judgment, a witness, an anchor. Caleb gives her a nod, and she nods back, as has become their habit in ending these sessions. Finally, he rises and walks past the other witness in the room.

"Caleb," the shadow calls softly as he reaches the door.

Caleb turns back.

There is a moment of silence as the apology dies in Wulf's teeth, and Caleb is not sure if expecting no different makes it hurt more or less.

"I know," he replies. Wulf does not flinch. He never has. He never will. "I know."

He walks out into the sunshine.

----

Caleb wakes up on a warm, sunlit patch of grass. He stares at the cloudless, blue sky for a moment before his attention is drawn by the skritch-a-scratch-scratch of pencil on paper to his left.

Jester is sitting beneath a peach tree, her sketchbook propped up against her knees. When her candy-pink eyes look up to peer at him over the pages, she grins and beckons him with a single, curling finger.

Slowly, after a nice, big stretch, he ambles up and over to her and crouches down at her side. She holds her book out at arms-length, so they can both survey her work: an orange cat fast asleep on its back in the sunshine. It's curled around on itself like a doughnut, its fluffy tummy exposed, a look pure feline bliss on its face.

"I think I got your good side."

-----

"A lee-tle more to the left," Jester says, motioning for Essek to stand closer-still to Caleb. He cannot get much closer without falling into Caleb's lap (he'll thank her later). He stares at her for a long moment, floats in just a nudge, and then shares A Look with Caleb. She considers this a small match-making success.

Gardening, truth be told, is not Jester's strong suit, so she has been spending her week in the Grove doing something much more important: drawing, drawing, and drawing some more. She draws until her hand cramps, at which point she pauses to eat a pastry or two and goes back to drawing again: Caleb and Essek conversing in the shade of an apple tree; Veth chasing Luc through the flowers; Yasha returning a baby bird to its nest; Fjord and Beau sparring amidst a shower of jacaranda petals; Constance and Cornelius Clay, each with an arm around Caduceus' shoulders, resting their heads against his in turns as they drink tea; Kingsley flirting incorrigibly with Eadwulf; Eadwulf and Astrid tending, with great care and concentration, to a plant that was half struck by the Blight; Sprinkle napping among the flowers; and a hundred other little moments, until her trusty sketchbook is almost entirely out of paper. And she knows exactly how she wants to use the final piece.

Fjord, Veth, and Caleb are seated in the garden on a motley assortment of chairs from the Clays' home, with Caduceus, Beau, Yasha, Molly, and Essek standing behind.

"You know, Blueberry, there is going to be a problem with this portrait." Caleb says, and Jester frowns, considering the composition and the lighting.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not in it.” Ah, yes, that tender grin is the exact one Jester wants to capture.

"Of course she is!" Declares Veth, tilting her head left then right to regard the rest of the Nein. "Look at all these smiles!"

Starlight [Dabi x Single Mom!Reader]

summary: when you and your children are saved by a man covered in burns, you offer to repaire his staples and clean him up, an offer that gets you much more than you’d bargained for word count: 2.6k warnings: a tiny bit of violence pairing: dabi x fem!reader

waking up at five am every morning to prepare yourself for the day certainly was not how you saw your life turning out four years ago. but, the moment where you opened the door to your twin son’s room washed away all over your regrets and filled the space with nothing but love. you thanked whatever was above you each day that they had ended up looking like you, rather than their father. you didn’t know what you would have done if you had to look at his face for the rest of your life

kindly stroking hibiki’s cheek, you watched as your son squirm awake, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. you smiled softly and whispered your morning greeting to him, watching as he beamed at the sight of his mother. hibiki kicked his small legs at you, a signal for your attention. with a huff, you lifted your son from his bed and sat him on your hip, slightly ticking his sides to see him giggle

when you felt a small tug on your pant-leg, you glanced downward to see hitomu giving you a pout, clearly jealous of the attention his brother was getting. you set your hand on his head, ruffling his soft y/h/c locks before setting down hibiki to present them their outfits for the day. the two had rambled on and on last night about how excited they were to attend their first day of preschool

though you would never tell them, you were just as happy to get a day to yourself while your sons were taken care of. you had so many errands to run, bills to pay and groceries to buy. living as a single mother in the city was tough, both financially and mentally, but it was worth it. you didn’t want to rely on the boy’s father for anything

while you were caught up in your thoughts, hitomu took your hand in his much smaller one, showing you a bright smile, though it was missing a few teeth. he proudly held up his all might lunchbox and you came to the realization he was trying to imitate his idol. hibiki took your other hand, beginning to mutter about how the three of you should get going before they miss breakfast

after locking up the apartment, you kept a steady grip on their hands, not wanting them to get lost in all the hustle and bustle of the city. the boys seemed to glare at everyone who past you, taking their roles as the ‘men of the house’ very seriously. you, on the other hand, were focused on reviewing the route to their preschool, praying that you didn’t get lost along the way

suddenly, you felt a sharp tug on your elbow, causing you to gasp, preparing to let out a scream before a rough hand clamped over your mouth. hitomi and hibiki gripped tightly to you, calling out to you as the three of you were dragged into a nearby alleyway. you were harshly thrown onto the concrete, wincing when you felt your knees scrape against it, surely drawing blood

hibiki clung to your left side, burying his face in your stomach with a sob, “mommy! are you h-hurt?”

you reached upward and set your hands on his cheeks, “hitomi, take your brother and get out of here right now! please!”

darting your eyes around, you caught sight of hitomi but your stomach dropped down to the pits of hell when you saw what he was doing. hitomi had his hands balled up into fists, holding his all might lunchbox in front of him

“l-leave my m-momma alone!”

“hibiki, stop!”, you screamed, terrified of what could happen next

the man laughed, a cruel, wicked sound, before snatching the prized possession out of your son’s hands and throwing it against the brick wall, smirking when he heard it split open. you pulled yourself off the ground, doing the best you could to ignore the throbbing pain in your skull. swiftly, you wrapped your arms around hitomi’s torso, pulling him behind you

with a tightening of your fist, you laid a punch on the attacker’s face, wanting to scream from how bad it hurt. he wiped the blood off of his nose and gripped you by the collar, slamming his forehead onto yours, causing your vision to become nearly entirely black. you could hear your sons crying but couldn’t speak a word

then, a bright flash of blue brought back your vision, feeling yourself slip from the man’s hold and back to the ground. you didn’t even look back at the attacker, despite his screams of pain and agony. hitomi and hibiki were holding one another, tears running down their horrified faces. quickly, you held the back of their heads and tucked their faces into your chest, hoping to hide whatever gruesome thing was happening behind you

when everything went quiet, you shyly lifted your head, flinching when bright blue eyes stared right back at you. the man in front of you was lanky and tall, scars littering his chest and face, along with staples holding his normal skin together. he looked like he was in so much pain and it made your heart ache

“you good?”, he asked, voice gruff and rougher than any sandpaper

“n-no, but,”, you looked up at him with wide eyes, “thank you. thank you so much.”

he didn’t move or acknowledge your thanks, only walked behind you to pick up the lunchbox that now had a huge crack in it, right over the face of your son’s hero. hitomi pulled away from you reluctantly when he felt a tap on his head. his eyes watered at the sight of his lunchbox but he took it back anyways, clutching it to himself

you slowly stood up, but even that was too much for your head. your knees buckled as soon as you were on your feet and you would have fallen back down again had it not been for the hand that steadied your lower back. everything was turning hazy again and you were sure you head a concussion. the last thing you saw was the concerned eyes of your sons and their mouths opening, surely calling out your name

---

you slowly fluttered your eyes open, feeling yourself relax into the softness of a familiar bed. then, you remembered the events before you fell asleep. lifting yourself forward suddenly, you felt the pain in your head come back but you pushed it away, determined to know how you got home and where your children were

the first place you checked was the living room, heart beating even faster when you didn’t see them, only the mess that had been left from their toy playing session the other day. where were your sons? how did you get home? and where-

a relieved sigh left your lips when you opened the door your sons’ room, only to see them snoring softly in their racecar beds. you had never been happier than that moment. when a cough came from the doorway, you jumped, holding out your hands in defense while the figure chuckled

“geez, chill out jumpy. it’s all good.”

the man from before stared at you with humor in his eyes. a part of you said to hit him until he left your home, to chase him out but, another part was begging you to make him stay. you just had to know who had saved you from something so terrible

taking one last look at your sleeping sons, you joined him in the hallway, keeping the door open out of paranoia. he kept his eyes on you, making you more nervous by the second

“um, thank you for back there. if you hadn’t come-”

“you already thanked me. hit your head that hard, jumpy?”, he teased and you felt your fists clench

“well, im sorry if im a bit uneasy after being attacked in an alleyway!”, you threw up your hands and stormed into your room, hearing him cackle behind you but follow you nonetheless

taking a seat on the edge of your bed, you felt tears begin to pool in your eyes. hurriedly wiping them away with your hand, you could feel the bed dip beside you, but neither of you said anything. you held your face in your hands, softly crying your heart out

dabi winced at the sound, the noise of a mother sobbing bringing back memories he would much rather have forgotten. when he had seen you and your kids get pulled into the alleyway, he had contemplated doing nothing to help, just continuing back to the bar. but, the face that had comforted him throughout the nightmare that was childhood would not leave his mind until he saved you

you peeked out from between your fingers to see a tissue being dangled in front of your face. eyes widening, you reached out to accept it, dabbing at your eyes with the soft tissue

“im a failure of a mother.”, you whispered and dabi quickly placed his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him

“from what i saw, you punched the dude in the face and managed to protect your kids even after gettin’ the life headbutted outta ya. you’re not a bad mom.”

when he began to stand up, you latched onto the sleeve of his long jacket, head hanging down, “why are you doing this? i don’t even know you.”

and at that moment, all he saw was his mother

“you remind me of someone i know.”

raising your head, you tossed the tissue into your garbage can and looked up at him with a pout. he nearly laughed at how much you looked like a little kid but your splotchy eyes made his heartache

“let me repay you.”, dabi raised his eyebrows with a teasing smirk and you blushed, “not like that! i meant that i could fix your staples, they look like they hurt.”

after thinking for a minute, he nodded, “lead the way, jumpy.”

---

dabi was sat on the edge of your bathtub, watching your every move. when you bent down to take the supplies out of the cabinet, his eyes trailed a bit lower but he shook his head with a smirk. you would so not be into that, he thought

“it’s probably gonna hurt but don’t worry, i took a few nursing courses in college so i don’t think i’ll kill you.”, you joked and it made him feel a bit better that you had calmed down

“that’s good to know, jumpy.”

you stood up and set a hand on your hip, looking down at the man with a look typically reserved for your children, “would you stop calling me that?”

kneeling down in front of the tub, you began to wet a cotton ball with some peroxide while dabi shook his head, “no can do. i don’t know what your name is.”

“well, i don't know yours either.”

“and you’re not gonna- jesus!”, dabi jumped at the sudden sting on his cheek and you quickly apologized, rambling about how it was supposed to hurt less if it was a surprise

the two of you entered a comfortable silence, you gently removing and replacing his staples after disinfecting his raw skin. dabi began to look around your bedroom, at least what he could see from the doorway. no photos of anyone but your kids and someone he assumed was your mom. the right side of the bed looked like it hadn’t been used

“your husband probably won’t be happy to find me here, ya know?”, he was pressing slightly, watching to see any reaction you made but your face stayed neutral as you tossed another cotton ball into the trash

“i don’t have a husband, just me and my sons.”, your eyes held sadness, a different one from earlier, this one was dull and seemed very old

“oh. did he-”

“yes.”, your hold on his skin turned harsher and dabi caught your wrist, meeting your eyes before pushing your hand back

“sorry.”, you muttered, going back to your work while dabi watched you intently

the father of your kids must have been someone pretty stupid to leave the three of you. your sons seemed to love you a ton, considering how their walk home consisted of one of them glaring at him while holding your hand and the other quietly telling him where to go

he remembered looking down at your face while you slept in his arms. you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid his eyes on, so it was only natural to think you had someone waiting for you at home. but, the only boys who had your heart where the four-year-olds who wouldn’t leave your side until they fell asleep

he had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t even noticed you had finished up. you were right. dabi felt much better. he could finally move his arms and face without feeling like he was about to rip his skin off. maybe he would come back here again if it ever got too bad

“thanks, jumpy.”, dabi said, watching as you glanced down at the tile floor

“y/n. i’m y/n.”, he hadn’t expected you to tell him your name, figuring your paranoia would still have the better of you

dabi fixed his coat and let you walk him to the front door, taking a glance at you from the side. you were gorgeous but, there was nothing he could do about it. he was one of the most wanted villains in japan. it was a miracle you hadn’t noticed who he was yet

the two of you stood in the entryway, you avoiding his gaze and him refusing to look anywhere else. he would probably never see you again with how his life was going but there was a pull in him, a part of himself he had locked away a long time ago, that wanted him to stay here, to fall in love with you

you felt a rough hand place itself on your cheek and you gasped, locking eyes with the man who had saved your life. dabi leaned in and couldn’t help but notice that you did too, but, all you received was a peck on the forehead

“you don’t have to leave, you know?”, you said and he could see the worry in your eyes, but it wasn’t fear for yourself

“sorry beautiful, but i have some prior engagements to take care of. but, you ain’t gotta worry, nothing like that’s gonna happen to you again.”, furrowing your eyebrows as the man opened your door, you reached out to grab him, but he was faster than you

“see you tomorrow morning, y/n.”

the end.

//COME STAY HERE WITH ME//

Sally Mckenna x fem reader

(SUSPENSE, FLUFF if you squint, ANGST, has a twist )

Promises aren't words without meaning. They leave a mark on your soul you need to fulfill.

The reader just isn't ready to make such a big commitment. Sally doesn't approve or believe her and she is determined to change that.

~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~

"Sally I love you of course I do. I will come back soon, i promise but you seriously cannot expect me to stay here forever" I argued with her as I hurriedly pack my carryon with unfolded clothes. Sally sat silently on the bed dwelling in her own thoughts. I could feel her sharp eyes bore into the back of my head as i maneuvered my way around the small room collecting my things. She didn't speak after i made that statement, no she just looked upon my sloppy movements .

The atmosphere in the room was stifling, the air was stale of sex and cigarette smoke. I was choking on the suspense of what Sally was going to do. I know she would never kill me, she promised me that. I was almost done packing when I turned around,only to meet her towering figure standing right behind me. She was a hair's width away. " I really wished you'd stay" she said in raspy low octave . There was not a door or window open to let a draft in, that was because it was her voice that sent shivers running and prickling along my spine. " I will come back to you very soon. I promise Sally" I replied to her, with a lack of commitment in my voice. Sally has managed to keep me stuck in the Cotez for 4 months. My family misses me, my job , my house was all waiting for me at home. I love Sally I really do, but I just wasn't ready. Sally slowed squinted her eyes at my response as though she was analyising each piece of word that left my mouth. I gave her a nervous side smile before I bent down to zip up my carryon. As I gathered my bag I made my way hesitantly toward the door. I felt as though Sally could read my mind. She may be a ghost but she doesn't have the special ability to read minds.

The humidity and tension in the room,caused beads to sweat to form and roll down the side of my face, the sticky and disgusting feeling of my shirt sticking to my armpits and my back didn't make my situation any easier. I squeezed my eyes tightly to try and get rid of the on coming headache, my stomach was churning. It was getting hard to breathe at this point. I gripped the copper handle of the hotel door and slowed turned it to make my way out of the room. *SLAM* the door was shut. I blinked a few times to understand what just happened. I looked at the door only to see a black chipped nail polished hand pressing firmly against it. My suspicions were confirmed. It was Sally who shut the door. The coldness from her close proximity radiated off her ghost form, but the breathe I felt on the nape of my neck was warm and inviting. Sally was really close. I didn't even realised my breathe was held, I was making myself feel faint just by her being close to me. I didn't have to turn around and face Sally since she was already leaning over my fraile form . She moved herself closer to place her red messy lipstick lips near my right ear. " You really didn't think I'd let you leave..." Sally began whispering in my ear. I didn't let her finish her sentence, she was cut off from the loud release of shakey breathe I was previously holding. Fuck! Sally was going to kill me right here and now I thought. Her soft frizzy hair was brushing my sweaty hot face, but the way my body was reacting didn't affect her. Sally wouldn't care if i were covered in blood so why would sweat deter her. She was nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck, without thinking I closed my eyes and leaned into her. The gentle kisses that she left upon my neck each sent small electrical pulses down to my stomach. She knew what she was doing. " like I was saying y/n,you really didn't think I'd let you leave....without your phone?" She said in a teasing manner as she pushed the device into my hands. Sally angled her head even closer to the side of my face , my facial expression was one of relief. However my heart still said otherwise, the rapid palpitation of each beat could have been heard if not for the muffled sound of traffic on the streets outside. It took me a while to find my words of gratitude, but Sally was patient. She continued to stare and admire the every twitch and subtle movement my face made. I couldn't bring myself to meet her hopeful eyes. Her eyes held a wanting future with me at the Cortez, she spoke many time how the least painful way to kill me was like Overdose with the use of her white China...but I didn't want any of that. I love Sally. Just not to death. Her body was now pressed against me, it was not one of a sexual manner just one to give the feeling that I was her prey and she was the predator.

Sally does scare me. No one knows the extent that she will go to keep something or someone she wants, there's no real way to stop a ghost such as herself. I forced myself to mumble a thank you, which would have gone unnoticed if it weren't for her face being so close to mine. Sally only replied with a soft pur, she really knew what she was doing because my toes curled at the erotic sound the woman made . We stayed in this position for a couple more seconds but not before Sally moved closer to my neck and licked a wet strip along the side of it. A pathetic whimper ripped it's way from my throath into the still air of the room. She swiftly removed her palm from the door allowing me to leave. My body was flustered and longed for more contact with Sally. She has me wrapped around her finger and boy did she know that. I wasn't going to throw myself into her arms, this time I am committed to leaving the Cotez. As I opened the door to exit, the warm air from the hallway came rushing in to mix with the cold air that was created inside the room. I turned around to wish Sally goodbye....but she was gone. I couldn't feel her presence anymore in the room. Maybe she was else where. The walk to the elevator was a long one, I tried to look down each corridor to see if she was lingering near by. No luck.

Did she not miss me? Will she move onto someone else?. As the elevator doors opened my thoughts were interuppted. The lobby was empty, no Liz and Iris arguing. The help desk just sat there in silence. I fumbled with my bags waking towards the exit. A feeling of unwanted and doubt returned in my stomach. Was this the right choice? I have already made it this far. I have been trying to leave the Hotel for the past 2 weeks. I furrowed my eyebrows at the thought of me succumbing to my weakness . No. I am going to leave. I will return to visit Sally, of course I will, but I just couldn't stay here forever. I took a deep breath, the cold icey air filled my lungs giving me a new sense of confidence. I marched my way towards the exit, taking one last look at the place I called me home for the past months.

I was almost to the door when i felt a sudden drop in temperature. The hairs at the back of my neck was now alert. The silence was in room was filed with Crying??? I turned my heels and saw her standing in the middle of the lobby with black tears running down her porcelain face. My heart broke at the sight. "YOU'RE REALLY LEAVING ME??" Sally screamed into the quietness of.the lobby. I visibly flinched at the level her voice raised, I opened my mouth and basically explained to Sally that it was only going to be for a while and that I would return to the Cortez and that I do love her. Her face that was once filled with hurt and anger was slowly replaced with confusion but slight understanding. The pout her bottom lip did and the way her brown doe eyes looked at me, made me drop my carryon. I

impulsively ran towards Sally and enveloped my arms around her. She immediately returned the hug, while I nudged my face into her chest as she rested her head upon my head. Sally felt like home but there was still so much for me to do outside the Hotel.

Her embrace was like poison to me yet it was the antidote at the same time. Time seemed to not exist at this exact moment. I felt Sally turn her head and rest her cheek on the top of my head trying to get as close to me as possible. Even though almost every night for 4 months we cuddled like this, I will never get enough of it. However, I really needed to get going, I loosened my grip around her waist in hopes of her understanding to let go, but she remained hugged me in her arms. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, " Sally baby let go" I requested, my voice was still kind of muffled since my face was basically pressed against the material of her dress. Sally silence my request with an elongated shush, as she increased the hold she had around my body. It was getting hard to even breathe, Sally was basically smothering me . I wedged my hands between our bodies and pressed the heels of my palm into her chest . Trying to push myself away with everything I have to break free of her deadly hold. At this point the only think that filled my nose and lungs were the cheap perfume Sally wore that her victim's brought with them to the Hotel. "SALLY WHAT THE FUCK LET GO" I screamed. I wiggled and started to hyperventilate still fighting her. Sally didn't budge. "GOD SALLY WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WIT-" ....no....she wouldn't . She said she wouldn't. My mind was going haywire at the thought. I stopped fighting against her and let my arms drop to the side. What the fuck??? There it was again. A sharp burning sensation in my back. It was hurting to breathe at this point. The pain was unbareable, sounds of agony and pain escaped my throath as hot tears cascaded down my face. The combination of the pain in my back and the difficulty to breathe was too much for me. Sally's grip around me was now loose enough for me to shove her off and step back. I felt weak, my knees buckled and gave out, I fell to the floor landing on my knees. The new angle allowed me to get a good view of Sally. She was smiling with joy, tear of happiness running down her face. The bitch welded a fucking kitchen kife covered in crimson blood,not just any blood. It was my blood .Sally Mckenna stabbed me in my back . My lover was planning on killing me. The wounds she created started poured a bloody waterfall down my back and onto the floor.

Sally smiled even bigger at the sight, she had this glint of something in her eyes. I couldn't tell what it was but my blood or whatever was still left in me began to boil. I hated Sally so much right now. There's no way in hell am I going to die in this fucking Hotel and be stuck here with her for all eternity. I gritted my teeth in pain and forced myself to push Sally onto the ground. It may not have been much but she fell back on the carpeted floor. This gave me time to turn on my knees and crawl towards to exit of the Cotez,to make quicker haste of my actions, I dropped down flat onto my stomach and tired to army crawl my way out of here. I craned my head backwards to see where Sally was but she was already back on her feet, the look of anger and annoyance was casted upon her face. I never stopped crawling away from her, the carpet that decorated the floor was now covered in a trail of my blood, my elbows were getting carpet burn but i didn't care. I heard the movements of Sally shifting behind me,she could have stopped me a long time now,but she just wanted to stand there and look down at me. It was sick. Her heel clicks were muffled into the floor, as they got closer. I screamed for help non stop, she didn't like that I was getting closer to the door. Sally grabbed me by my ankles pulling me away from my freedom. I tried to kick her away but my body was too weak. My nails were breaking and bleeding as I scratch along the carpet trying to grab hold of anything. I cried out in pain but Sally didn't care, " oh baby no come stay here with me" she cooed trying to calm me down. She managed to drag me away from the door. I knew if I even escaped her hold I wouldn't make the distance. So I cried, the adrenaline that was coarsing through my blood was now decreasing. My heart beat was soft and my eye lids were heavy. Sally parted her legs and pulled me flush against her chest. My back wounds made rough contact with her but I was too weak to even hiss. She was cruel, Sally sat me in such a way that I had clear view of the door.

I could see it, the sun shining down on all the people who walked the streets, the cars the hurriedly drove pass the Hotel . I detested the sight. I could have been one of those people who went about living their life. I was no longer crying, the tear tracks on my face were fresh but no more followed. Sally repated kissed the side of my temple whispering silent I love you's. I zoned her out at this point. If i was going to die in the Cortez that doesn't mean I have to interact with her. I hate you Sally. I hate you. "Y/N?" Sally spoke, breaking my silent brooding. I didn't acknowledge her but she knew she had my attention. " I'm going to speed up the process, so we can be together even faster" I ignored her, there was nothing more i could do. Sally gripped the knife that was covered in my blood and quickly slashed it across my neck. My eyes went wide. All i saw was red. My lungs quickly filled with my own blood, the only taste that painted my tongue was metallic. I cried for help but blood gushed its way out instead. My body began to feel prickly and cold. So this is how it felt to die. My vision became blurred, the doorway of the hotel was now unrecognizable. " close your eyes baby I am here...I will be here went you are awake" Sally whispered into my ears as she held me tighter. I complied, I closed my eyes and felt all the warmth slowly leave my body. This is how I died. I died by the hands and embrace of my so called ghost lover.

~~~~~~~time skip ~~~~~~~

I groaned as I stirred awake, I couldn't see properly but I could feel a weight on my chest,but it wasn't uncomfortable. I needed to blink a couple of times to clear my vision. I knew I was back in the Hotel but where was I exactly ? Apparently my shifting cause the weight on my chest to be lifted. I looked down and saw that it was Sally who was resting on me. My vision was still a little blurry, but i could have seen that she was smiling at me with her red bottom lip tuck away under her teeth. I tried to move but Sally moved her hand that was resting on my thigh and pressed it against my bare chest,shoving me back down onto the mattress. It dawned on me that I was completely naked,expect for the fact that I was wearing her leopard print coat. She saw the perplexed look on my face and answered the question in my head. "Your clothes were bloody, so I showered and wrapped you up in my coat.". I looked around and now realised that we back in her apartment. Room 64. I had so many questions, I wanted to yell at her but when I opened my mouth, all that came out was a soft "why?..." She looked at me with admiration and love. Her hands were wondering all over my naked body, ghosting over all my moles and scars. " You were going to break your promise, I just made sure you fulfilled it." She said in a matter of fact tone.

Sally punctuated the sentence with a kiss upon my chest. "You stabbed me and slit my throath why that way?" I further questioned the ghost. " You needed to hurt Y/N like how you hurt me , but it's all okay now because we are the same and we have each other" Sally justified . She moved to straddle me and cup my face as she recited the statement. Her forehead was now pressed against mine, and I could have felt the warmth of her breathe brushing across my face. Sally kissed me, but the kiss was not one of love ,it was one of fulfillment. She got what she wanted. Sally slipped her tongue pass my lips to deepened the kiss, I could hear the change in her breathing. It was loud and heavy. She was created a heated kiss, but I couldn't allow that to happen right now.

So i took my hands to shove her off of me.*CLINK* what the fuck??? I cut off Sally's kiss to turn my head and see what was the reason for the sound . My right hand was handcuffed to the bed. Sally looked down at my chest smirking as she rubbed her hands up and down from my chest up to my neck. She was ignoring the look of concern that was painted on my face. "Sally what the fuck??? Uncuff me" I demanded. All she did was laugh at my words. Sally crawled further up my body and played with the curls of my hair with her index finger. " no" was all she said. "What do you mean no??" I raged. Her patience was running thin now, her smile transformed into a scowl. Her hands gripped and dug into my jaw, " You are dead so that means you don't need food,you don't need sleep, you no longer need the requirements of the living."she spat her words out like it was venom. "You think I don't know you baby?"She continued, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes shifted from between my lips and my eyes every few seconds. " You cannot escape me and I am not going to let you avoid me" she finished. I was scrambling for words," wha-i but- sally you cannot keep me chained here" my voice was lowered this time, I spoke softly trying to get on her good side." I know baby but when you come back to me and understand that what i did was for us, I will uncuff you." Sally kissed my forehead and returned to her previous position of lying down on top of me. Her head was resting on my heart ,but I doubt she would be able to hear a beat. Silence surrounded the both of us, I tilted my head backwards hitting the bedrest with a soft thud. I accepted that this was now my faith and my future. My eyes were glued to the ceiling, taking in the smallest details, eventually focusing on the small cobweb being built in the corner. Sally whispered softly into the peaceful silence " y/n my love next time you should remember that promises are not just words spoken."

Mr. President

Chapter 2

TW: Mentions of bruises, scars etc

Words Count: 1.3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 3

The sun feels very blinding on your face. Trying to move your muscle one by one, pain suddenly rips through your body making you whimper.

“Careful.” A voice in the room says which you somehow immediately know belongs to Mr. Park.

Your eyes fling open to search for him and you find him in no time as he is seated on the bedside, watching you carefully. It’s almost unfair how illegally good looking he is.

You try to sit up but ends up groaning in pain. Your whole body hurt, every muscle is aching and screaming in pain.

“Your body’s still recovering. You need to take it slow.” He says impassively, not a hint of warmth.

“Where.. am I..?” Your voice hoarse.

“My house.” He simply says.

His house??? How- why-

Wincing and grunting, you eventually manage to sit up. You finally realize that you’re in a large and spacious bedroom with sleek beige furnitures and interiors decorating it.

You then allow yourself to stare at your saviour. Now that it’s morning, you can clearly see him and all his features. His gaze bores into you but you can’t deny how beautiful they are, his nose although not high but is sharp enough, his cheeks high and his lips.. he has a pair of very pretty pink plump lips, you note. Almost reluctantly, you drop your gaze to avoid being called lunatic or pervert for staring unashamedly.

Your gaze flickers back up when he stands, one hand in his pocket.

“I placed the painkillers there.” He juts his chin towards the bedside table and only now you notice the medicine and a glass of empty water there. “Feel free to leave once you’re capable enough to do so.” He frowns slightly, then turns.

You reach forward almost immediately, wincing at the throbbing pain on your ribs especially due to sudden movement. Without thinking, you reach for his free hand, gripping it desperately.

“Please-“ you croak and he turns, still frowning at your daringness to touch him. “Please- take me in. I’ll- I’ll.. do anything, I’ll work for you- anything. Just.. just please don’t-“ You trail off, because you don’t exactly know what you wish for.

For several moments, he just regards you. And for the briefest second, you think he would smile, takes your hand and mutters softly that he’s going to help you.

But nothing of the sort happens.

He just continues to stare at you impassively, clearly not impressed. The way he stares at you makes you feel small so you withdraw your hand, flustered and embarrassed for coming to this point in your life.

He sighs then. “Just rest.” Is all he says before he turns and leaves you alone, feeling even more helpless than ever.

Your shoulders slump back down and suddenly the realization that you really are going to be in the streets with no one to help brings fresh tears to your eyes. So you cry. For hours until you’re exhausted enough to fall asleep again.

The dark must’ve just set when you find yourself awake again, body aching even more now though there’s a lesser pain in your chest since you’ve let it all out from all the crying session.

You struggle to sit up when you feel your throat burning. You’re very thirsty. Letting out small squeaks with each muscle and limb you’re moving, you manage to sit yourself on the edge of the bed.

There’s a faint knock on the door that you think if you’re asleep you wouldn’t have heard them at all. Before you could react, the door opens and an elderly woman with her hair tied up in a bun appears. She smiles kindly as she calls your name.

“Miss..?” She hovers near the doorframe. “I brought you some fresh clothes, you can change into them. The bathroom is just beside you and if you’re done you can come outside and I’ll show you to Mr. Park’s study. He wants to see you.”

Your stomach lurches in response. He couldn’t possibly want to sue me.. or worse, kill me, right? Flashes of images of him beating your brother makes you shudder. One thing you know for sure is that he’s not someone to be messed with.

You stand though staggering slightly as your legs wobble. The elderly woman who introduces herself as Mrs. Lee immediately steps in and asks with a concern look whether you need help. You shake your head, telling you just need to take it slow and Mrs. Lee leaves you at your own devices after that.

Though not without numerous wincing and grunting, you somehow manage to shower as well, or more like wiping your body here and there. You briefly think that if you’re well enough, you’d be basking in the warm water the hot tub offers and appreciates the lavish interior of the bathroom.

You flinch when you see your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn’t have been in a worse state than this throughout your whole life. Bruises littering your body everywhere, it’s all marks of blue and purple, wounds and scratches from being thrown to the ground and your lips are slightly torn at the edge. There is also a cut above your right brow. You couldn’t really recognise yourself.

Sure, you had plenty experiences of being beaten by your abusive brother but last night, your brother seemed determine to beat you half dead. You sigh, tears almost threatening but you quickly brush it off. You have to be strong.

Outside the bathroom, there’s a white medium dress laid on the bed together with matching undergarments. You pick the dress up, eyes litting up at the beauty of it. You’ve never worn a dress before, simply because you can’t afford to be dressing up when you’re burdened with financial debts your whole life.

Still, you’re grateful since wearing a dress is still an easier task than having to fit through a jeans or leggings.

There’s a knock on the door again and Mrs. Lee appears again. Wow, she really has a knack of figuring your timing. She approaches you as you stand awkwardly on the dressing table.

“Would you sit down, Miss? Let me brush your hair.”

“Y- you don’t have to.” She doesn’t listen though, instead placing firm hands on your shoulder and putting slight pressure to make you sit in front of the dressing table. It somehow feels weird to be staring at your own reflection.

Mrs. Lee brushes your hair tenderly like a mother would her daughter. She then braids your hair slightly and tie it up in a bun, letting a few strands fall freely on each side of your head.

You feel weird. For once.. you think you look decent. Though bruises are still apparent on most of the surface of your skin and no makeup to cover your face, you don’t look so tired like always.

“Miss..?” Mrs. Lee interrupts your reverie as she taps your shoulder lightly. “I’ll show you to Mr. Park’s study. He’s waiting for you.”

And there goes your stomach churning again at the mention of Mr. Park. You’ve no idea what to expect and that makes your stomach churns further, anxiety almost swallowing you whole.

Mrs. Lee leads you out of the bedroom into the hall filled with arts and paintings on the wall and only coming to a stop when you almost reach the end of the hallway in front of a double mahogany door. She knocks on them and you don’t miss the escalating heart beat of yours as your anxiety heightens as she announces your arrival to whoever’s waiting on the other side of the door.

She doesn’t wait for an answer but opens the door and urges you to enter. Filled with trepidation as if you’re entering a lion’s den, you step inside.

If you thought the bedroom you were in just now was huge, it doesn’t compare to this study room. It’s vast, with bookshelves surrounding it and rows and rows of books, old or new filling it. Across the room, there’s a table by the window and you finally see the man sitting behind it. He doesn’t look up when you enter so you stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

There’s also another man standing across the table, facing Mr. Park.

He turns at the sound of you entering and your jaw almost drop at the visual of this man. He’s tall, skin slightly tanned but above all, the features of his face are almost out of this world. Eyes sculpted to perfection, tall nose and sharp jaw, he stares at you making you stop short in your tracks. The corner of his lips tugs very lightly as he addresses your presence.

“Ah, Miss Y/N.” His voice is very, very low without him having to make the effort. “Please, come here and have a seat.”

He gestures towards your right and you notice a seating area with plush white sofa and modern table. You don’t move until the guy who was speaking just now moves towards the sofa followed by Mr. Park. You chance a glance at Mr. Park as he takes confident strikes across the room and you marvel at the way even his walking exudes charisma. He takes his seat gracefully, sitting cross legged and you miss the way he eyes you from top to bottom as you walk over while the tanner guy remains standing beside him and only now you notice he’s holding several papers in his hands.

He looks at you and gestures you to take a seat once more which you do. You almost buckle in nervousness as the two’s gaze land on you.

“So, Miss Y/N,” the guy standing starts. “My name is Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you.”

If your senses aren’t tingling all the time and you aren’t fidgeting so much in anxiety, you’d probably have half the brain to answer to his sentence but right now you’re trying very hard to do as much as breathing that you end up mumbling incoherent reply, much to the guy named Taehyung’s amusement though Mr. Park’s expression remains impassive.

“I understand that your family had been a tenant of one of Park Corporations housing area for more than twenty years now. You also have a history of late payment since five years ago and currently has a backlog of payment for one year, amounting 4 million KRW. Is that correct?”

You feel beads of sweat starting to appear on your forehead but you still nod nevertheless.

“You failed to pay for the past year which resulted to the house being seized and you’d be homeless but.. here you are..”

You try to hide the grimace as Taehyung addresses the obvious situation.

“And you still owe Mr. Park here 4 million KRW and may I ask if you have any means to settle them within this month?”

You swallow. You want to ask for another chance, to give more time but you know even if they do give you a chance, there’s no way you can rake millions just like that. Unless you sell yourself, perhaps. And that still might not make up the amount of money. So naturally, you just shake your head slightly.

“So, Miss Y/N, since you’re owing such huge amount to Mr. Park and you have no means to pay.. that means you’re technically..” Taehyung continues but was cut off by Mr. Park.

“Mine.” He says and the word echoes in your mind a million time. You’re.. what? You look up at him and see the corner of his mouth slightly quirks up like he’s smirking. Your gaze flickers to Taehyung too and he’s doing the same as well making a shiver run down your spine. Why do you feel like you’re being sold to the devil..

“So I have a proposition for you.” This time it’s Mr. Park speaking. “A marriage contract.”

A WHAT?

Link to Chapter 3

Posted on 210325 9:00PM

Sunflower / Harry Styles AU

Authors Note: Hello! This is an AU I thought of when I took a flight this past winter. I really hope y’all enjoy. As always comments and requests are always appreciated, they really help with motivation:) Feel free to interact in any way<3

Warnings- SMUT, daddy kink, choking, spanking (all that jazz)

Word Count- 2.8k 

Enjoy<3 

READ MY OTHER WORK HERE!

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“Alright passengers, I’m your flight attendant for today’s flight, my name is Jane and upfront our pilots are Harry and John, they’ll be making sure we arrive safely to our planned desination.” you smiled into the speaker, “We want to thank you for flying with us and hope you enjoy your flight, any concerns or questions feel free to flag me down and I will ensure all your needs are meet.” You spoke all this is your typical stewardess voice, a voice that took months to perfect and has slowly crept into your daily speaking habits.

Today’s flight was a short one, only about an hour and a half. While you normally preferred longer flights, as it meant you got to travel farther, today you were grateful for the time it meant you would get to spend with your boyfriend, the man who was in charge of making sure this plane arrived safely at its destination. You and Harry had been together for nearly four years, working together since the very beginning of your relationship, when it was barely that. Of course, you never intended to start a romance with one of your pilots, it sort of happened.

After you relaized you both would have to work together, panic settled in. Of course you really liked him, you spent nearly everyday with him since that first night. He couldn’t be further form bothered, only uttering, “Who cares….maybe we should tell them so they can see I got the one everyone drools over.” I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I would be shamed for sleeping with one of the pilots, rumors would ensue over how you got such a sought after job.

However, one panic attack and a trip to HR later, everything felt at ease. Your job literally could not care less; and being with Harry, relaxed you. Who cares if people gossiped? It was no ones business. They could stare and talk all they wanted. They wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you upset by it.

Pushing through your anxiety was worth it, for Harry anything really was.

********** 4 years earlier **********

“I’ll get another drink please.”

“On it,” the very patient bartender responded, you had been moping around the bar for nearly two hours. You came here often enough to know which bartenders were working what shift. This is why you choose to come at this specific time. Noah, a slightly older man, was your favorite. He never tried to pry things out of you. Just let you sit at the bar with a solemn look on your face. Occasionally listening when you felt you needed to rant. A presence next to you snapped you out of your daze. The bar was fairly empty but the slightly musky air was still floating over our heads.

“Can you make that two, please? Go ahead and put it on m’ tab.” I slowly turned ready to dismiss whoever was interrupting my form of self-care. It was the same tall, lean man who had been shooting glances my way all night. Getting fairly close to me when he came to retrieve drinks for his group. “I’m Harry, and you are….?” he said cheekily

“Jane,” I deadpanned, “That is very kind but I am more than cap-” I stopped when I fully looked at him and saw how beautiful he was. His eyes were a blend of forest greens, almost overshadowed by how dilated his pupils were. His pink, full lips were pulled into a  smirk, noticing I was staring.

“Baby, ‘m sure you’re more than capable,” he slyly said with a grin,  Who was this man? And to have the nerve to tease me after only just meeting.

“Look, I was just sitting here enjoying a drink and I really don’t need anyone to pay for it.”

“I’m just tryna warm you up, take it...please?”

“Warm me up for what? You seem so sure of yourself, when all youve done is give me your name and pay for a drink.” I retorted.

He grinned again and moved closer, “I see that look in your eye, I know you want this darlin’,” he slowly inched his hand up my arm, pausing when he got to my collarbone, waiting for me to say no. He carefully encased his hand around my neck, looking into my eyes to silently ask if this was okay, all I could answer with was a nod. He put his mouth to my ear and hotly whispered, “Come home with me.” The ache between my thighs only got more intense. “Your friends wouldn’t like that,” I whispered lowly.

“Fuck them,” he responded, his voice had significantly dropped and he sounded so sure. For some reason, I trusted him and felt myself slowly falling into his arms, both figuratively and metaphorically. I wrapped my significantly smaller hand around his wrist that was still holding my neck, “Take me then.” I whispered.

Our drinks long forgotten, he dragged me through the exit. When we stopped in front of a very expensive car I was surprised to think he would drive. “Wait,” I gasped, “you can’t drive, you were drinking.” I couldn’t hide the slight disappointment in my tone. He only chuckled, “I was the designated driver for tonight, had bloody virgin drinks all night.” He smiled. With that, we got into the car. Judging by his determined driving I assumed we would end up at his place. After a car ride filled with only the sound of our heavy breaths and quiet music, the air thick with tension, he parked. The house was fairly large for what I would assume was only one-man occupying it. Nonetheless, I followed him to the front door where he stopped and turned to me.

“I know I was pretty straight forward back there, but I’ll completely understand if you decide to change your mind.” Those words got me wetter than I already had been. I understood what he was saying though, and felt gratitude at his attempt to make me comfortable. However, I couldn’t help but let my eyes flicker down to the bulge in his trousers. I stepped up to him and rested my hands just below his belly button, “I want this,” I seductively whispered, “Tell me you want me.” He let out an animalistic growl and wove his hands around my backside, resting them on my hips.

“I want you so, so bad baby. ‘M about to come in my fuckin’ trousers. Got me so hard, you minx.” With that settled I pushed him towards the door hoping hed get the hint to open it and lead us inside.

Once inside the already thick tension erupted inside us. He pushed me up against the closed door and crashed his lips on mine. It was rough and hot as he poked his tongue at my sealed lips, I let him in, and our mouths explored each other. He groaned and motioned with his hands on my ass to jump. I happily leaped into his arms and continued our heated kissing. I felt him slowly begin walking upstairs, careful not to drop me. We broke apart to breathe, but I immediately began trail kisses along his jaw. When I reached a particularly sensitive point below his jaw, he moaned. Setting me gently on the floor he lifted the end of my dress, pulling it off me in one swift motion. His eyes widened at the sight beneath it.

“Completely bare, you filthy fuckin’ whore,” He said as he cupped my heat, smirking at the whimper I let out.

“Oh yeah? I bet you fuckin’ love it.” I replied breathlessly.

“I fuckin’ do. Daddy loves filthy whores .” His eyes had gotten darker and his voice had a dominating edge to it. I knew he wouldn’t go easy on me. And I was thankful. I decided if he wanted to be rough, so could I. He threw his head back and groaned when I dropped to my knees in front of him, “You look so damn beautiful on your knees.” He gripped my chin, dragging his thumb across my cheek and pulling my bottom lip down.

I whimpered at the throbbing between my legs, hoping to get some type of relief. His bulge had only gotten larger. I held lightly onto his thighs and gave rough kisses to his covered length.

He was stubbornly refusing to moan, I could hear his breath increase in an attempt to mask them. When I pulled both his trousers and boxers down; his thick, veiny length sprung up. The tip was bright red and leaked pre-cum.

I admittedly enveloped him in my mouth, his knees almost buckling at the sudden touch.

“Fuck baby…..shit, right there…...suck daddy’s cock.” He grasped my hair harshly, guiding my movements as I bobbed up and down his cock. When I hallowed my cheeks he gave an involuntary buck, his tip hitting the back of my throat causing me to gag. I pulled away quickly, gasping for breath with a line of spit connecting his swollen tip to my lips. I chuckled and continued to move my hand up and down, flicking my wrist slightly when I reached the head.

“You like that daddy,” I smiled at him. He finally gave me another beautiful moan that sent waves of pleasure to my throbbing core. “Mmmm,” was all he managed to respond before pulling me up to kiss me sternly.

“As much as I love that sweet mouth of yours, I wanna come inside you.”

He pushed me backward until my knees hit the bed. He climbed on top of me letting his hands roam toward my throbbing pussy, “please,” I whimpered; surprising me too. He chuckled sliding his hand over my slit. “Oh, fuck.” Gathering my wetness on the tip of his finger he slowly pushed one in.

I threw my head back and let out a moan. “All this for me, huh? Tell me who got you this wet?”

I could feel him threatening to pull his finger out, “Tell me who, and I’ll fuck you with my cock, the one you sucked so well.” He crashed his lips back on mine while hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You want that? To have me fuck that tight cunt so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Please…...daddy.” My whimper nearly killed him, the slow drawl out of me calling him daddy, I could tell he was trying to tame himself for my sake. But I wanted him to completely ruin me.

“Don’t be patient, ruin me…..please?” I juted out my bottom lip, partly to be cute and because I knew he would imagine me when I was on my knees for him.

I pulled at his belt buckle, he ripped my hands away and stood up. At first I thought he had changed his mind or something was wrong but he had a devilish grin on his face and lowly spoke in his sex-hazed raspy voice, “Get on your hands and knees.”

For some reason I responded to his voice immediately, rolling over so I was propped up by my hands, spreading my legs, hissing at the cool air hitting my slick core. My ass was facing toward him so I could only hear him remove his belt and step out of his trousers.

I jumped slightly when I felt him run the cool leather over my ass, “Look at you, spreading your ass for a stranger….. Such a fucking whore.”

I whimpered slightly and pushed my hips back slightly, hoping he would understand what I wanted. “You want me to spank you?” he snickered, “you keep surprising me Jane.”

Hearing him say my name drew a moan out of me, only nodding in retort to his question.

The slight sting that came was minimal in comparison to th pleasure I felt at his belt hitting my ass roughly. He brought it down again, and again, and again; each time making me moan louder than the last time.

When he dropped the belt I sighed in relief, I would finally get some relief from the ache that was ever increasing between my legs.

“Are you on the pill or should I-?”

I cut him off, “I’m on the pill, you can go bare.” I didn’t want the barrier of plastic between us, I wanted to feel every vein and ridge I had felt in my mouth.

With my confirmation he pushed in harshly, both of us moaning in unison, “Oh fuck…” I breathed. He set a rough pace, gripping onto my hips and pounding into me from behind.

“Shit…..you’re tighter than I thought baby, “ he groaned. The air was filled with sex and sweat. The only sound being our repeated mantras, oh fuck, right there, or don’t stop, and the borderline pornographic noise of skin slapping together. Harry reached his hand in front of me began rubbing fast circles on my clit. I cried out and knew from the sudden stimulation I was gonna cum sooner than I though, “I...I’m gonna cum, Harry.” I managed to get out.

“Cum for me baby, show me what a good girl you are for daddy, how much you love his cock.” With that I clench around his length that was buried to the hilt in me, all but collapsing from the overwhelming pleasure. I could feel Harry twitch inside of me and felt thick ropes of his cum coat my walls. He pushed himself balls deep, swirling his hips while riding out his oragasm. “Ohhhh, fuck baby….” he groaned.

I gathered enough strength to put my hand underneath us and tug on his balls lightly. He jolted and growled in my ear.

“You felt so good in me,” I whispered, in between our heavy breathing.

He laughed and pulled out, hissing lightly at the lack of warmth around his cock.

“It was all you darlin’.” I unvoluntarily clenched my thighs at the pet name. We both laid on our backs and stared at the wall.

“You can spend the night if you’d like,” he looked over at me with a glint in his eyes. I couldn’t say no, even if I normally refused to even spend longer than 5 minutes after with a hook-up.

“Sure,” I smiled.

********* Present Day **********

“Once the seatbelt light has turned off, you can go ahead and gather your things, exiting the aircraft in a effective manner, on behalf of all of staff we would once again like to thank you for flying with us today and hope you had a lovely flight.”

Once everyone was off the plane I unlocked the cabin door and struted inside, silently punching myself for choosing to wear heals. I mean, they made my legs look great and not to mention how fucking good my ass looked in this skirt, I knew Harry was itching to take it all off me.

“How was your morning Jane?” John asked sweetly. John was one of our newer pilots,doing his first few years under the care of Harry, a man with years behind his belt. He was a sweetheart, always kind-too kind if you asked Harry- and he respected everyone he worked with, no matter their own job.

“Not too bad, fairly calm flight. How were yours?” I asked them both.

“Good, John was in the lead for most of it. Fast learner this one.” Harry grinned, knowing how embarrassed John was with compliments. Sure enough when I looked at him, his cheeks were flushed pink.

“That’s very kind, but it’s all your teaching,” He replied, “I’m off, gotta go get some rest. I hope you both have a wonderful day.” He shook Harry’s hand and gave me peck on the cheek.

My eyes followed him out the door and I turned to Harry once he was out of sight, met with an unimpressed look.

“Oh relax, he always gives me a kiss on the cheek.” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he stood and started gathering his belongings, “he tries anything else and I’m not holding back.” Of course John would never try anything, for one he was married, and he respected both Harry and I too much to ever do anything like that. It was simply a joke, stemming from the fact that a pilot that flew with Harry had commented about me, not being aware I was tied to Harry.

“I’m yours, you know that,” I grabbed onto the front of his suit and peered into his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re all mine, too look at, kiss, and grab,” he smirked, cupping my ass harshly at. I squealed and tried to push him away.

“People will see,” I laughed lightly, freeing myself of his grasp.

“Let them, they’ll finally understand not to talk about you,” he breathed, “Especially when they see me and think, ‘that bloke will fuckin’ kill me for disresectin’ his girl’” he beamed at me, clearly proud with the scenario he made in his head.

“You are such a dork.” We both grabbed our bags and began walking out the plane and into the airport.

“Yeah, but you love me,” he smiled with that goofy grin that always makes me laugh. I merely shook my head in response and thought, yeah I really did.

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LMK WHAT YOU THINK!!! :) 

a moment of repose

summary: riza wakes to a light weight covering her shoulders, but the feeling of it doesn’t completely register with her right away. it’s warm and holds a distinctly familiar smell but she cannot place it while still half asleep. the comfort it brings is almost enough to lull her back to sleep, but something within her is fighting the urge. [inspired by fanart]

an: this fic was inspired by the wonderful @mienaime‘s art, which you can find on tumblr and twitter

rating: g | words: 2207 | tags: royai, inspired by fanart, fluff, thoughtful gestures

read on ao3

Roy feels ready to fall asleep at his desk as he approaches the double doors to his office. The hot coffee cup in his hand is the only thing keeping his eyes open. He’s conscious of not spilling it as he walks and the heat bleeds through the supposedly heatproof cardboard holder, searing his fingertips. Every so often on the walk back he had to switch hands to stave off the pain. Roy had even glared at the cardboard once or twice, grumbling about false advertising as he switched for the umpteenth time.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s slept in the office, but he can’t. He’s stayed back with the Lieutenant to finish up some loose ends from the week, so he really needs to buckle down and get to work. He also couldn’t do that to her. Not only because they were working overtime and he’s not that much of an asshole, but also because, unfortunately, they’d somehow uncovered even more work to do while finishing things up, so they were due in for a long night. Hence the late-night coffee run.

The Lieutenant had declined his caffeine offer, opting to remain in the office and continue working. So, Roy had rushed across the street from Central Command and picked up a coffee for himself and a pastry for her. She may not want to eat it tonight, but it would keep until tomorrow, the shop owner assured him. It would be a small surprise and gesture of thanks at least. Far less than what she deserves, but all he can give tonight.

Regardless of their long day, the evening is not all bad, Roy muses as he pulls down the door handle outside the office, because he gets to spend some time with her.

Once inside the office, Roy freezes. He blinks at the sight before him, seeing the Lieutenant’s head down on her desk. Immediately he thinks something is wrong, but the spark of panic isn’t given a chance to form fully. He can see her face and takes note of how relaxed her expression is. He can also see the gentle rise and fall of her back as she breathes evenly. One hand is tucked underneath her cheek, lying flat on the desk, while her other arm is a pillow for her head.

Roy blinks.

She’s asleep.

He blinks again because he can’t quite comprehend the fact.

The sudden burning heat from his coffee makes him hiss in annoyed pain and it jerks him out of his shock. He switches hands immediately.

Once the surprise has worn off a fond smile tugs Roy’s lips upwards because he can’t help but think about how peaceful – and beautiful – she looks. She’s completely at rest and without any worry or stress.

He turns quickly and locks the office door. No one should be making the rounds at this hour, however he knows that if they caught the Lieutenant asleep, not only would she be mortified and be wracked with shame and guilt for succumbing to her exhaustion in the first place, but there would be disciplinary action as well.

Roy contemplates waking her. He knows he should and knows she would want him to do so as well, but he doesn’t have it in him. It’s been an arduous week for all of the team, but especially for the two of them. Their hours have been long, with little time for breaks, and their sleep has been cut short because they needed to return to the office early to make their way through the workload. This is the last night of it all – tomorrow they are free – and, Roy supposes, there is only a small bit of work left to do. He can take over the reins for a while and let her sleep.

Riza Hawkeye simply does not fall asleep at work or at her desk, so she must need the extra rest.

He can give her that for a while. She deserves it more than anyone.

His feet carry him over to her desk, to the side of her chair, and Roy can’t help but smile again as he sets his eyes upon her features, so serene and relaxed. Roy places his coffee and the paper bag with her pastry down atop her desk. He gives in to the urge to reach out to her, placing his hand atop hers. It’s tucked underneath her cheek, so his knuckles brush against the soft skin of her face. The Lieutenant stirs slightly at the contact but doesn’t awaken. Her skin is warm to the touch because of her breath and the heat from her face. Like a welcoming fire on a long, cold night, warming his soul with its presence.

Leaning over, Roy presses a kiss against the side of her head.

“Sleep well, Riza,” he breathes. His lips move against her hair, and it tickles his skin as he catches a waft of her shampoo. It’s the one he remembers, and the one she’s used for years. It is so quintessentially her, that it makes him grin like a fool when he recognises it.

Riza sighs gently in her sleep.

Chancing his luck even further, Roy presses another kiss, but against her cheek this time. When he pulls away, he regretfully removes his hand from atop hers, but then starts unbuttoning his jacket. Once he’s shrugged it off, Roy drapes it over her shoulders, ensuring it’s tucked in securely, so it won’t slip away from her.

He walks over to his own desk with his coffee, leaving the pastry be, and settles in to get to work. The brief moment of affection has invigorated him, for if he works quickly, he can hopefully finish the work before she wakes up. It would spare her from needing to do more work when she clearly needs to rest instead.

Roy takes a sip of his coffee and puts pen to paper, determined and motivated to work.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Riza wakes to a light weight covering her shoulders, but the feeling of it doesn’t completely register with her right away. It’s warm and holds a distinctly familiar smell but she cannot place it while still half asleep. The comfort it brings is almost enough to lull her back to sleep, but something within her is fighting the urge. Her eyelids are heavy with fatigue when she blinks them open, but eventually they manage to pry themselves apart and she comes face to face with a… desk?

Her body jerks upright. In the chair her spine is ramrod straight and a cold sweat breaks across her skin. It has nothing to do with her lingering cold from earlier on in the week, it’s because she realises she’s fallen asleep at her desk. At work.

Panic flies through her and adrenaline courses through her veins, banishing any lingering tiredness immediately. She’s completely alert and awake.

That was also the moment she finally registered the weight on her shoulders. It had slipped off her body when she lurched upright, sliding down her back and pooling in a heap at the back of her chair. Before she can get her bearings properly and look down to see what it is, someone speaks.

“Lieutenant,” a voice greets cordially, as if nothing is amiss.

Her head snaps around to find the Colonel sitting at his desk in just his shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His brow is furrowed as he almost glares at the document within his hands. She fears it’s because of her misconduct, however when he glances up expectantly to await her answer, his expression relaxes, and he smiles.

“Did you rest well?” His question is spoken quietly, but it is not mocking, sarcastic, or displeased. He’s completely genuine.

The skin of her face heats up with shame. Before she can open her mouth to apologise profusely, the Colonel holds up his hand to halt her.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures her. “No harm, no foul.”

“Sir, I am so sorry for falling asleep at my post.”

“Lieutenant, it’s fine,” he replies softly with a gentle smile. “I figured you could use the rest,” he shrugs casually and goes back to his work. “I know I desperately want to do the same, so I don’t blame you,” he chuckles, and Riza realises he’s not lying. She can see the fatigue on his face, around his eyes. Like her, there were dark circles underneath them.

That not the point though, and she tells him as much.

“Either way, the work is… done!” With a flourish he finishes his signature and tosses the pen down on the desk in triumph, looking extremely proud of himself. “I was hoping to get it completed before you… woke up.” He lowers his voice tactfully at the end of his sentence, and she appreciates that.

What if someone had walked in while you were asleep?

Riza internally berates herself again.

While the Colonel stretches in his chair, Riza straightens her uniform. Out the corner of her eye she sees a white paper bag sitting on top of her desk and she frowns at it. Before she can comment, the back of her hand brushes against something. She sees a sleeve of their standard issue jacket lying haphazardly across her lap, and Riza remembers the weight that had been on her shoulders when she awoke.

Riza blinks down at it.

“Is it all right if I take my jacket back?” The Colonel is before her suddenly, speaking in a gentle voice as a smile teases the corners of his lips. His hand is held out, patiently awaiting her to return his item of clothing.

Nodding, Riza reaches around and hands it back. She averts her eyes before standing from her chair to pack up her things.

It’s not lost on her that he covered her with his own jacket while she slept. It was very sweet of him but is something she’ll probably be better mulling over once she’s in the privacy of her own home and away from the source of her embarrassment and disappointment. She shelves it for later, deeply appreciating his gesture, but honestly just wants out of the office as fast as possible, if she can.

“Here.” In his hands, held out towards her, is the paper bag that had been on her desk. “I picked it up for you when I ran out to get some coffee. If you don’t want to eat it tonight, the shop owner said it will keep until tomorrow,” the Colonel explains as he shrugs his jacket on his shoulders.

Peeking inside, Riza is curious.

He’d bought her a pastry.

She doesn’t know what to say. First the jacket, now this.

“Sir…”

“Call it a thank you gift for all your hard work,” he grins. “I only wish I could offer you more.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Sir, this is more than enough. That was very kind of you. Thank you.” She’s completely touched by what he’s done for her. She’d make sure to repay the stolen work time back later, as well as pay the Colonel back as well. It was the least she could do.

“You’re welcome,” he nods happily. “Would you like a lift home?”

It wouldn’t be responsible for her to get behind the wheel. The adrenaline that had been raging through her veins upon the realisation she’d fallen asleep at work had dwindled, leaving her with the same fatigue she’d felt all week due to the workload and her recovering from a bothersome cold. The same fatigue that had betrayed her that evening.

“Thank you, sir,” she agrees.

His grin makes her stomach do a small, pleasant flip.

She reaches for the door and finds it locked. Confused, she turns to see the Colonel pulling a key out of his pocket.

“I took some precautionary measures,” he answers her unspoken question. “And it was also to ensure you would remain undisturbed.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he replies as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, that he would do such a thing for her.

But, Riza supposes, it really is for Roy. He would absolutely do something like that for her.

A warm feeling coils inside her stomach and slowly spreads, climbing up her ribcage and settling gently and comfortably around her heart. It causes a smile to spread across her face as she stares back at him, once again, extremely grateful of his thoughtfulness.

In response, the Colonel's expression softens, and he returns her smile. “Anything for you, Lieutenant,” he murmurs quietly before opening the door and offering her to step through first. “You know that,” he adds, his voice stronger as she walks passed him. “Plus, how many times have you covered for me when I sneak a few minutes of rest,” he winks. “It’s about time I repaid the favour,” he snorts as they step outside.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re purposefully going to continue that habit,” she frowns, then lifts an eyebrow in warning.

He just laughs, and Riza thinks, dryly, that she doesn’t like the sound of that laugh. But the sound of it still makes her smile regardless, like always.

Gimlelul

Haha, i have a habit of disappearing because i want to finish a story but feel bad about coming back when it’s not finished. This is something I had an idea for at work, i hope you all enjoy it. It’s kinda dumb but cute too i guess.

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Words: 1700 (an exact number!??)

Warnings: None. Unless cheesy Kili is a warning.

The journey, however repetitive and boring it could be, did offer some enjoyment for you. Most of this enjoyment sourced from the young Prince Kili.

In the three months since the journey had begun, you and the Prince had developed a habit of stargazing each night, just after dinner, but before first watch. It never failed to brighten even the most dull of times. You would both make up new patterns and constellations in the sky, and your favorite so far was ‘Thorin’s Stompy Boot’, which had a base in the Lyre and built into… well the name is pretty self explanatory.

However, the dullness of the journey vanished in the span of one night, and it was rather difficult to fit in the time to stargaze. Between the three trolls who almost ate the whole company, the strange brown wizard who appeared to be on an overconsumption of… magic mushrooms, the incredibly tiring and terrifying chase by wargs and orcs, and arriving in the valley of the elves, it had been next to impossible to spend time with Kili to look at the stars.

Today was the third night in Rivendell, and while you thought it to be the most peaceful and safe place in all of Middle Earth, Thorin thought otherwise, and warned against falling into a state of security. On this particular night, Balin, Bilbo, Gandalf, and the King himself had gone off somewhere, and Thorin had left strict orders for the company to stick together and not stray away. These orders, of course, were ignored.

Bombur had left for the kitchens quite some time ago, ‘for provisions’, and it did not appear that he would be back anytime soon. Ori (with the help of Nori), had snuck off into one of the elven libraries, and you expected him to be there for quite some time. Bifur had left almost the second after Thorin, and there was no sign of him anywhere. Not that you were worried. Fili and Kili had disappeared as well, and there wasn’t a clue of where they had gone off too. Dwalin, ever the loyal warrior, stood watch over camp, on the lookout for spying elves.

You were by the fire, fiddling with the straps on your boot. The blasted buckle kept coming loose, and you were determined to fix it before departing from this beautiful valley. Unfortunately, several grueling minutes later, you had sighed and resolved to ask Bifur for help when he returned from wherever he was.

“Having trouble, my lady?” You looked up to see that Fili and Kili had returned, and the younger of the two had apparently been watching you fight a losing battle with your boot straps.

“Aye, my prince. But I reckon Bifur can aid me when he returns.”

“And why Bifur?” He asked, “Am I not handy enough to aid you in your time of need?”

“Ha. I think not, as you struggle with even buckling your own boots in the morning.”

Kili laughed and came to sit down beside you, taking the boot from your hand and eyeing the trouble.

“You know,” He said, “all you have to do is straighten out the metal here, and it would be fine. Also might be a good idea to get the rust gone.”

“I know that much,” You replied, reaching for your boot back. But Kili pulled away, now grasping the buckle in his hand.

“I could fix it now, if you’d like.” he offered, eyes still glued to the boot strap.

“It’s alright Kili--”

But the prince had already started working the metal with his bare hands, twisting the iron back into place by dwarven strength alone. Once he was satisfied, he fiddled with it, making sure it worked properly.

“There you go (Y/N), should be good as new, except the rust. We’ll get that cleaned up on the ‘morrow.” He said, handing you back your boot.

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“Nonsense, it was nothing,” he replied, “But how about we take it for a test walk? Just to make sure it’s back to normal?” without waiting for a reply, he stood and offered his hand. You grinned and quickly got your boots on before taking his hand and getting up.

“Oi, where are you two going?” Dwalin called.

“Not far, we’ll be back shortly!” Kili said, quickly grasping your hand and hurrying along before Dwalin could object.

The two of you walked for quite some time, much farther than Dwalin would approve of, but it was nice to finally spend some time with Kili. You talked of the chaotic ventures of the past few days, and Kili joked that it had been the only exciting thing to happen so far.

“I mean, we’re going to a mountain with a dragon. You’d think there would be more of a thrill, wouldn’t you?

“You speak too much Kili. Getting shoved into sacks by trolls was enough excitement to last a lifetime. The orc pack was just terrifying. I’m perfectly content with the journey to continue on as normal from here on out, without any more surprises happening.”

“Oh, come now (Y/N), where’s the fun in that? As I recall, you were saying that the routine of the journey was incredibly boring just last week.”

“That was before the trolls, Kili. And you best be cautious, a dragon, however far off, is not something to treat as a mere adventure. It’s going to be very dangerous.”

Kili sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“I know, but still--” The young prince stopped quite suddenly and looked around.

“Kili?” you asked.

“There’s a place Fili and I found, I’m just trying to remember if we already passed it or not…” He looked around again, before backtracking a few steps. Then he seemed to remember, and looked up for a moment.

“Alright, follow me, it’s a bit off the path, but it’s worth it. Promise.”

Despite the warnings in your mind, you followed Kili up a rocky slope, occasionally needing his assistance with some of the trickier parts. You climbed a good fifteen minutes before he stopped and turned sideways. Before setting off, he looked back at you and grabbed your hand.

“It can be a bit slippery from here on, so be careful.”

Now you could see what you supposed his destination was. A rocky ledge stood a few meters away, high above the rest of the valley. The Prince led you along the entire way.

Eventually, you reached the ledge and were able to gaze around. It was stunning, to say the least. Rivendell looked even more beautiful at night than it did during the day, with lanterns and candles glowing about the houses and courtyards. Moonlight reflected off of fountains and roofs, and filtered through leaves to create patterns on the ground below. The faint sound of elven flutes and harps rang throughout the air, blending beautifully with waterfalls around the valley, and you soon realized that the waterfalls were instruments in the song too.

You also realized that Kili had not released his hold on your hand, but you weren’t going to bring that up in fear that he might stop.

“Nice view, is it not?” he asked.

“That’s a bit of an understatement.”

He flashed you a smile before taking a seat on the stone, pulling you down to sit beside him.

“I figured this would be a lovely place for stargazing, Gimlelul.”

You felt like you should know what that word meant, but it had been long since you had had to converse in dwarvish beyond simple phrases. But the young prince continued on before you could give it much thought.

“The stars seem so much brighter here, don’t they? And much more numerous.”

You nodded in agreement. “They do indeed. It’s almost impossible to pick out a single star with how many there are.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Kili replied, a smirk spreading across his face.

“I don’t think so. Too many stars to find a constellation.”

“Well, how about something easy then. What about the brightest star? Find that.”

You turned your gaze upwards, searching in vain for the North Star. The longer you looked up, the brighter all the stars seemed. After a few minutes of  straining your eyes, you groaned and turned to Kili.

“It’s impossible. My eyes hurt from staring at the stars.”

Kili grinned.

“You admit defeat?”

“If only to save my poor eyes.”

“Well, you really are bad at this aren’t you? The brightest star is the easiest thing to find, see?”

Frustrated, you turned your gaze back to the heavens and searched again.

“You can’t possibly pick out the North Star from here, Kili. There’s just far too many of them.”

“Who said anything about the North Star? I asked for the brightest star.”

“The North Star is the brightest Star, you idiot! That’s the most basic knowledge anyone can have!”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. While the North Star is the brightest star in the sky, the brightest star in existence is sitting right in front of me.”

You blinked at him for a moment, before groaning.

“Oh come on Kili,”

“No, I'm serious! You are the brightest star in the whole of Middle Earth.”

You gave him a look, but smiled all the same.

“That’s… ridiculous.”

“You don’t like it? It seemed fitting for you. You know, I can see starlight in your eyes all the time? Doesn’t matter what time of day, there’s always stars that glitter in your eyes. It’s incredibly distracting.”

At this point, what could a person do but get flustered, as a prince said all these lovely things to them.

“Kili, what are you saying, exactly?”

“Is it not obvious, Gimlelul?”

There was that word again. The meaning seemed to be right on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t place it. Suddenly, Kili drew much nearer, and placed a kiss on your temple.

“Men Iananubukhs me,” He whispered. “My brightest star.”

‘Oh’, you thought. ‘Right. That’s what it means.’

The two of you spent much of the night up on the ledge, Only coming down when the stars started disappearing to make way for the sun.

Gimlelul: My brightest/glittering star

Men Iananubukhs me: I love you

A thorough analysis on why Vah Medoh’s dungeon theme makes me want to cry

Yep, that’s an accurate title. Hi there! do you have a moment to hear about Breath of The Wild soundtrack? posting for yet a third time in hopes that tumblr won't hide it. I'm so tired

What started as a quick and harmless post, pretending to simply point out a couple of things, rolled downhill, out of my grasp and turned into a massive snowball of a short essay. How and why did this happen? Well, I assume a lot of people know about this song, and know what I’m talking about when I say that it makes me tear up and sob uncontrollably with every change in key as the seconds tick by and I spiral down into a dwell of misery from where I struggle to find the exit and to later recover.

……No?…..At the VERY LEAST it makes you a little uncomfortable. And I state this with much certainty, because after reading hundreds of comments everywhere online where this song is present, I picked up on a vast majority of people who expressed to feel the same way I did when it came down to our current music subject. See, statistics don’t lie… normally. So, naturally, my intrigue got the best of me. I wanted to find out exactly why this soundtrack was mercilessly stirring up everyone’s emotions, so I caved in and we ended up with this.

Buckle in, fellas.

Out of all Divine Beasts’ dungeon themes, Vah Medoh’s is the one that I can’t sit through. Not without growing antsy and wanting to turn it off as soon as possible. I find it genuinely difficult to listen to, and it’s not only because Revali is my favorite character and the song is just, plainly put, depressing, mind you.

We’ll start from 0 terminals activated.

It opens up similar to the other three dungeon themes; the pace is slow but eerie, gives off the impression that it sounds broken somehow. Something is off here, and it’s easy to figure out what that is from the get go: you’re basically entering a majestic, ancient, mechanical mausoleum, where everything went terribly wrong a century ago. Someone is gone, someone you knew, someone who was probably close to you, but it’s impossible to be sure. You don’t remember a thing, and this entire ordeal is confusing at best, and terrifying at worst. It’s your duty to make things right again.

It’s the same for all four Divine Beasts upon entering, save for the obvious little differences that separates them from each other and make them unique. Ruta’s is played on a major key, adhering to a sense of hopefulness. Naboris’s begins with a startling smashing of the piano keys, much like thunder of a sudden lighting strike. And Rudania’s theme starts threatening, dangerous, like scalding lava.

But now, back to Vah Medoh. The tone here is… alienating. The dissonant chords are all over the place, and feel disconnected, cold. It’s almost as if someone doesn’t want us to be here, or just like the elusive key, our presence is unexpected. Fitting, for a Divine Beast that’s high above the land, impossible for most to reach, yet we somehow made it. Apart from the piano, we have the occasional hint to rito culture, in the shape of a short, synthetic version of the rolled chords at the very beginning of Rito Village. A quiet reminder of where we come from. There is also, of course, the morse code distress signal, but we’ll talk more about that later.

As soon as this formal introduction is over, we finally get to the more, say, intimate stuff. Oh, and wouldn’t you know, it’s just tragic.

One terminal activated.

There’s no better short way I can describe this passage, other than anxiety-inducing. Especially when the strings come into play, and there’s two reasons I can think of why I feel this is an important thing to point out:

1- Characters and Symbolism.

I tend to associate stringed instruments, all of those which compose the violin family, with rito culture. And Revali, most specifically. In Creating a Champion we can see the early concept art and designs for all or most major characters in the game, and Revali’s highlighted rough design might be the one that changed the most throughout proper development of the character, out of all champions. He looks quite different from our usual depiction of him, it’s fascinating. What truly catches my eye, however, is the design of his bow.

You thought bird puns were bad? Oh boy, how do you feel about Revali having a bow that looks like a violin/cello/viola??? And do you need a bow to play it also??? Like, is it even an instrument or it’s nothing more than a mere fashion statement?-

Anyway. I believe this was originally going to be a not-so-subtle wink to rito culture, being heavily musically inclined as we can see and conclude for ourselves. Perhaps Revali was going to be a musician as well, now how cool it that!

Needless to say, the idea was eventually scrapped. But one detail I am CERTAIN carried over to the character we know and love today(okay not all of us love him but seriously if you dislike him why are you still here lol): strings. The association between bows(weapon) and stringed instruments, aside from being a quite clever and creative one, goes beyond the concept art and remains strong as part of Revali’s character, settling for having a presence via score. After all, Revali is a master of archery, so in that way it makes sense to keep strings as symbolism to reinforce the idea and drive it home.

But can you guess what other thing Revali excels at? That’s right: flying. He’s the only rito we know of who successfully managed to take advantage of wind currents and bend them to his will. And do you know what musical instruments are often used to evoke the feeling of flight and gale? If you thought of bowed strings, you’re correct! Unfortunately, I couldn’t find much support on this topic online, so you’ll have to take my word for it. I am most certain that this is fact, although not something worth discussing on the Internet, by the looks of it.

Anyhow, violins/cellos/etc are ever-present whenever we’re close to Rito Village or dealing with a rito related mission. Attack on Vah Medoh, for example, features a sequence of strings that is meant to evoke the strong winds we’re fighting against in that particular moment(*). Another great example is The Final Trial, the song that plays at the shrine of resurrection nearing the end of the Champions’ Ballad. Preceding the activation of each terminal, you’ll notice that a new instrumental element joins the crowd: the first one corresponds to the tambourines, related to the zora and Mipha; the second one are strings, referencing the rito and Revali, etc. I tell you, the moment I heard this during the trial I almost started crying like a baby. And, although strings have a lot to do with Rito culture in general, they tie most strongly to Revali, since he was the champion of his people, and his legacy carried over throughout the years. His accomplishments became material of folk tale, a legend, a source of pride and inspiration for the village. And let’s not forget that, at the end of the day, Revali is the crucial and foremost connection Link has to this place. Other than appeasing Vah Medoh, Link’s responsibility here is to free his past fellow champion’s spirit from Ganon’s malice. The soundtrack is referencing Revali first, and by extension his devotion to his home.

With all that in mind, let’s move on to our next point:

2- Nowhere to Go.

You shoot the canons, land on top of the Divine Beast, do what you gotta do, activate the first terminal and the soundtrack goes off unannounced. Like some sort of surprise anxiety bomb. The rhythm turns fast, the melody erratic, incredibly desperate in its execution. There’s this sheer despair, fear, this feeling of suffocation almost, which are so well achieved in this particular piece.

And that is, partially, because a quite familiar resource is used here as well; one that we’ve heard before in songs such as Rito Village or Revali’s theme. You could even think of it as a motif: two notes are played in an semitone interval, repeatedly and in quick succession. For the sake of later convenience, we’ll call this the Flight Motif, now let me explain why. In Breath of The Wild, this semitone loop is often followed up by some form of resolution. In Rito Village, formerly known as Dragon Roost Island(**), that resolution consists of a graceful descent of the melody, from a high that was built up previously during the motif. On the other hand, if you listen to Revali’s theme, you’ll notice that the interval repeats itself for a couple of times as thought charging up, to then rise fast and determined into a triumphal reprise of Revali’s distinctive assigned melody. This juxtaposition supposes the difference that lays between common rito flight and Revali’s trademark ability; both musical sequences are speaking of flight, albeit in two different languages depending on the way to achieve it. While the rito traditionally use their wings to glide and let themselves get swayed by the air currents Buzz Lightyear style, Revali takes full advantage of his flying capabilities to somehow create an updraft of his own, rising meters above the ground whenever he likes or needs to.

So, now that I layed out my base of thought when focusing on the strings, this’ll be much easier to explain. We’ve settled what the instruments themselves are a symbolic representation of Revali, in this scenario specifically. He was the only one inside Vah Medoh, and the score is, in a way, a retelling of what we can vaguely assume went down here during the Great Calamity, as much as it is what sets the tone and ambience for Link’s mission. But what are we hearing exactly? What we talked about, the Flight Motif, is being repeated nonstop. And that’s the thing, remember how I mentioned that this sequence usually finds resolution at the end? Well. Inside Vah Medoh,… it never does. The melody picks up in numerous occasions, but it’s not nearly as graceful, or calculated, as we’ve grown used to by now. It gets tangled and lost, and then inevitably falls to the ground in disarray. The pattern repeats itself, reaching higher after a handful of failed attempts, but no matter how much it tries, the cycle never ends. What used to tell us about flying and freedom in the skies, has morphed into an almost sinister musical incarnation of a tornado, and there is no way out of this trap. What do you think it must feel like to mindlessly flap your wings against wind currents so strong and violent, that it is impossible to get anywhere nearby, let alone take off every time you lose your balance. Or every time you’re shot down. On top of that, trying to aim and fight back in whatever short breaks and opportunities you get, at an enemy that’s much more powerful and relentless, who’s using your own element as a weapon to destroy you… it’s a risk Revali surely had to take in order to put up a fight. Even knowing full well that the odds were not in his favour, that he was most likely going to lose this battle, that he was going to die. Let that sink in. I’ll skip the activation of the second terminal, since there’s barely any change registered in the theme in general. So-

Three terminals activated.

I know this post is supposed to be a breakdown of the song purely, but that doesn’t mean there’s no place for a little theorising, and the following scrutiny is also quite relevant for our discussion. Bear with me for a bit. I’ve read almost everywhere about people’s most common interpretations on the Divine Beasts SOS signals, and how everyone thinks that Revali’s coming in last (a few seconds later than the other champions) has to do with him holding on for longer. Or, also, overconfident as he was, it means that the idea of calling out for additional support didn’t cross his mind until it was too late, and that’s why the beeping sounds more frantic and panicked than the others’ when it does appear. After giving it some thought myself, I’m betting on the latter option holding more ground, and that’s not all. I want to touch upon a detail of the piece that I never acknowledged was there until very recently(after seeing myself obliged to listen to this song fully and a handful of times, suffering every minute of it for the sole purpose of this analysis. It’s okay I didn’t need my heart anyway). Soon after activating the third terminal, the SOS signal disappears, or grows distant and faint enough that we can’t make it out from the background anymore. In its place, we’re confronted by this… shrill, piercing and painfully slow tune. It sounds synthetic, artificial, devoid of life. And it’s funny, because you know what it reminds me of? I’ll tell you:

A heartbeat flatline sound.

And I want to highlight that this doesn’t happen in any of the other Divine Beasts themes. All their SOS signals carry on, but Medoh’s is no more. This abrupt stop, followed by this bone-chilling tune…. makes me believe that Revali was the first of the champions to fall. A few days ago I came across SuperZeldaGirl’s video on a similar topic, theorising that this could very much be the case. There is not much evidence to support this claim other than some visual cues that could be suggesting to it, but after I found this in the soundtrack, and if we’re to rely on it for anything, I believe Revali was either the first champion to be ambushed by Ganon, or well…. the first to be killed. It is plausible, because short after Calamity Ganon unleashes his power, Revali parts from the group and flies directly to Vah Medoh, and he very well could’ve been the first pilot to arrive.

On this note…. we’ll have to wait and see for ourselves, when Age of Calamity provides long-awaited answers to many of our questions.

Four terminals activated.

An interesting melody is being played on what, for me, would qualify as a glockenspiel or a celesta, which are keyboard based instruments that produce a sound similar to that of a music box(***). If you want to pay more attention to it, I suggest listening to Vetrom’s Instrumental Mix Cover of the theme, where they practically zoom in on this part of the song (keep in mind that it uses the All Terminals’ time signature so it’s being played faster). For some reason, this particular addition makes me feel profound empathy. The sound of this instrument could be described as cute or childlike, magical, even. It is more often than not used to represent innocence, but I highly doubt that’s specifically the intention here. Much like the leading strings’ melody, the melodic contour of this one is trapped in a loop of going up and down constantly, but the difference is that this time around it sounds more under control. And much more uniform too. It doesn’t lose focus or takes risky, fruitless leaps, but rather chooses to stay on a path of waves that consistently rises and falls without taking detours. Like a determined battle strategy, giving it your all. You fall, but get back up again, and try again, and again. It reminds me of Revali’s approach to training, being persistent to the point of overworking himself. He had discipline nailed down to a tee, which I also think served him well in combat. It’s not just about being hard on yourself, either, but being confident and having complete faith in your abilities; believing that you’ll make it.  For this to appear now, that the SOS signal is almost completely gone, is significant because it means that by this point, being so close to success on Link’s behalf, the music is sparing genuine encouragement for once, in spite of the tragic outcome of the past and the danger of the current situation. But, in all honesty, this is probably just me reading too much into it. Perhaps the composer just thought this addition sounded pretty bitching and there’s not much else to it, which is completely fine. Although, intentional or not, sometimes coincidences do happen, and at the end of the day, interpretations like this are a form of appreciation for an artist’s work and for what they can unknowingly accomplish.

All terminals activated.

This is the moment when the song finally lightens up. Notice how the strings abandon the wave pattern for a more even contour. The beat quickens, the melody stabilizes. At first I thought, coming from our flight analogy, that this meant a cease in movement entirely, and it was partly one of the reasons why the song in general makes me anxious. But thinking about it now, …there is something different going on here. The strings are playing on a steady rhythm. It resembles a march, it’s like a pounding heart. It’s a lively, hopeful statement. And what’s interesting is that, up until this point, there was so much fear and helplessness present in the score, even going as far as to reach a dead end when we activate the third terminal. But that’s it, isn’t it? the music just keeps going further. 

It’s saying: this isn’t over yet. Even after complete and utter defeat, there’s still hope and an underlying wish to overcome this predicament, and we started to hear this as soon as a fourth terminal is activated. The melody we previously talked about? it’s here as well, and its beat is much more daring and confident.

And I just want to say… this is so powerful. Because this sentiment is deeply tied to the game’s story and Revali’s character arc. You see, he is introduced as someone who resents Link for being the manifestation of his failure, in a way, because Revali has trained arduously his whole life to be where he is, to be recognised. And yet… this hylian gets chosen by a magic sword and some tale of divine destiny and, apparently, that’s all it takes for him to be deemed the hero that will save the land. In Revali’s eyes, Link has done nothing to prove his worth before him, so it is easy to see why he despises the silent knight so much; he is yet another individual that was born into their destiny. Meanwhile, Revali has had to build his reputation from the ground up, earning him a place among the greatest warriors of Hyrule, and even then he finds himself surrounded by people who grew up praised for being born gifted.  We can see how Revali is the odd one out, and can map out the reason for him acting so antagonistic towards Link.

But once we’re on Medoh, things start to change. When Link enters the Divine Beast, Revali greets him with disdain, as per usual. Of course, Link has no recollection of whatever happened a hundred years ago, other than a small glimpse of the rito champion talking down to him, a memory that came and went in a flash. So as Link, we more than expect Revali to act cold and mocking, which he does. He provides us with as little help as needed in order to free Medoh, reluctantly, shielding his wounded pride over having to wait for Link, of all people, to come to their rescue. But you can hear him starting to open up bit by bit(I wish I could translate his dialogue directly from Japanese but I’ll make do with a couple of dubs and other numerous sources from translators online). With each little step Link takes towards success, activating the terminals, the perception Revali has of him shifts from one of resentment to one of genuine admiration and respect. By the end of it all, he is willing to not only cheer on Link during the boss battle, but to trust him with his life’s worth achievement. And once left alone, he admits defeat and lets go of his bitterness, realising that he was wrong to underestimate Link, and later wishes he could’ve had a chance to measured up to him. To take all of this into consideration and work with it in the soundtrack I think it’s genuinely splendid. And for once, I am grateful that it ends in somewhat of a positive note that puts my soul to rest. I still have a hard time listening to the first two thirds of the entire thing, but now I can look forward to a hopeful and earnestly heartening conclusion for all the pain that this composition puts me in. I must admit that it’s beautifully and brilliantly crafted, and that I am enamoured of it regardless.

That is why I wrote roughly 4k words about it! I hate myself!

If you’re as crazy as me about the soundtrack of this game, I recommend you read the published cd interview with the composers themselves! if you haven’t already. I just found it yesterday(unbelievable but it’s true) and… after writing all of this and checking it out, I felt validated. It sure is a one of a kind feeling. 

Alright folks, we’ve made it to the end. Congratulations for sticking around and thanks being interested in my nonsensical rambling! 

I also hope that you, like me, will now be unable to listen to bowed strings without being reminded of Revali. Good luck!

————– Annotations/Sidenotes/Whatever

(*)The Flight Motif(in point number 2) is also present in this track. We can hear it in the background right after the Rito leitmotif, as per usual. It starts with a clarinet, I think, before the strings take the lead. (**) Note that the Flight Motif only comes into play in the Breath of The Wild rendition of the song. (***)I strongly associate this instrument with Mipha, given that it is used in her theme, in every “response” to the initial melody. It can be heard in Attack On Vah Ruta, as well, it enters the scene when the notes Mi(E) and Fa(F) are played. The initial tune, Si and Do(B and C) are played on a clarinet or oboe, wind instruments just like the flute that leads Sidon’s respective theme. The celesta can also be heard inside Vah Ruta, activating the first terminal…. when the song really takes a turn just like Medoh’s. Mipha has nothing to do with the song of this analysis, however. We must understand that instruments, although they are attached to characters/various story elements in some cases, can always be used outside of that context, for that is the nature of an orchestral soundtrack. If you have this many tools at your disposal, you will make good use of them.