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watermelonsugacry · 1 year

Note

Any more of building Harry’s house you have planned currently? Love those!

Building Harry's House: Boyfriends

A/N: day 1 of Since 2010 ficmas!! sorry it came out a lil late but she's here!

SUMMARY: With the world knowing of their once secret relationship, Harry and YN navigate life together as an official couple and everything that comes with it.

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // Building Harry's House masterlist // previous song here! 🚲

SIDE-NOTE: italicized is voice over commentary (I wrote this kind of like the Behind the Album documentary) bold are things Harry actually said irl

—2019—

Anger, confusion, and frustration radiate off his hunched-over figure from his position on the floor. Harry digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and the cold tile beneath his knees digs harshly at his bones but he stays there, feeling that he deserves the pain given what just happened.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” YN says so quietly that he might have missed it if he wasn’t listening carefully.

“Yeah. Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

It takes Harry about a minute to realize the gravity of his situation and only half a second to pick himself off the ground to whip open the door. He doesn't know why he gets disappointed by the fact that her car isn't in the driveway anymore. Surely she’s already halfway home by now.

He, YN, and his small but close production team have almost hit the two month mark during their stay in Malibu. Recording Harry’s second album here has had its ups and downs and needless to say, he doesn’t think he can go much lower than he feels now.

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Yeah. Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

How could he possibly say such a thing to her? She didn’t have to come all the way over here, ditch whatever important tasks and events she had going on for her own career to come help him make music. Her gift is wasted on him and for him to say such a nasty thing to her?

His feelings only twist around each other in contradiction: grateful at the fact that the rest of his production crew is out for drinks but somber in having the Malibu recording house all to himself (it wasn’t like they hadn’t just made a song dedicated exactly to his desire to not be alone—yet another reminder of how much she’s continued to provide her help to him when it wasn’t deserved).

With a final scowl out towards the driveway, he reluctantly shuts the door behind him as he makes headway into the kitchen. He feels like a hypocrite as he attempts to suppress his thoughts by reaching across the kitchen island to snatch the tall glass of alcohol. It seems that all the two have been arguing about is their lack of communication, for their constant push down of emotions to avoid what they really want to say.

This realization only furthers his desire to shut down his thoughts and everything tied to them as he reaches for a glass.

He somehow finds himself pushing the door to her room open with the tip of his foot. The image of her hurtful face after his words only pushes him to twist the cap off the tall bottle.

It’s well into the early hours of the morning when the rest of the small production team comes waltzing through the front door drunkenly singing some song. He can hear his name being called from somewhere else inside the house, but it sounds muffled from his position on the carpeted ground.

“Harry!” Mitch calls. “Where are you, man? Why haven’t you picked up your phone...?” His words slowly come to a halt when he stops his friend lying on his back, mindlessly looking out sliding glass doors of the room YN slept in during her stay. “Harry?”

“I wrote a song,” Harry’s words are slurred as he continues to stare out to the floor to ceiling doors where the white foam of the gentle waves crash along the shore.

“What kind of drugs you on, dude?” Jeff sighs out when he enters the room, putting his hands on his hips.

“M’a bad boyfriend,” Harry pouts, eyes pink from the alcohol swirling in his veins. “A real, proper shitty one.”

Mitch and the pop star’s manager share a look. Mitch is the first to speak up, “But you and YN aren’t even together.”

“See! If I were a good boyfriend, I would be her boyfriend right now. But m’not. I’m just fucking up our situation even more.”

Jeff rubs his bearded chin and lets out a knowing sigh, “You’re really no good alone, man. Come on, we need to get you off the floor.”

Harry makes no effort to move from his spot but instead takes in a deep breath. Flashes of YN’s hurt face reappear back in his mind and he pinches his eyes shut like it physically hurts him to see it again.

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Yeah. Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

Already being kicked while he’s down, he comes to realize that the purpose of his drinking is yet another aspect of this painful situation that he needs to hide from YN. Was he not the one to show her how drinking is not meant to drown one’s sorrow away, to suppress guilty feelings and/or make one forget.

Might as well just add it to the list of many other shitty aspects of his contribution to being a bad boyfriend.

“'Boyfriends' was written right at the end of ‘Fine Line.’ We had just finished a session that was...a pretty difficult session to get through because I couldn’t seem to get anything right,” Harry’s brows pinch together at the memory of that day. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to make his music without his YN there.

“At the end of that session everyone left, and I started writing ‘Boyfriends’ and it almost felt like ‘Ok, there’s a version where we get this ready to put on Fine Line,’ and I think there was something about that just felt like ‘It’s just gonna have its time, so like, let’s not rush to get it done.’”

—2020—

YN holds a plated sandwich and a water bottle as she walks up Harry’s pink carpeted stairs in his London home. After the back and forth traveling from La to Italy to England, the couple made the decision to stay in London for the time being before it was fit for them to travel again due to the pandemic. Not that it mattered much to them, as long as they are together then all was well.

It should come as no surprise that while staying indoors was quite relaxing, the two had a hard time being still. As long as they were safely distanced from others, the couple went out for walks in secluded areas, visited the lake nearby, and picked fruits from the small garden their mums helped plant in the spacious backyard.

The only downside of their stay in Harry’s London home was the fact that YN didn’t have some of her basic recording equipment and she was itching to get some music ideas down.

As the world still tries to carry on in the midst of a pandemic, the couple is still booked for the occasional zoom video or call interview. With a gentle and slow twist of the doorknob of one of the spare bedrooms, YN peaks her head inside to see her boyfriend sprawled along the green velvet couch. His back is to the armrest while he holds the speaker of his phone towards his mouth. His other hand gestures by his side as he explains the writing process for his second record.

He looks so comfy in his sweats and a loose shirt, a tiny clip holding the top of his hair back on top of his head. His words almost taper off when he looks up at his love. He continues to explain how Adore You was made, he gives her a dimpled smile and a nod. The two of them know and understand more than anyone the gravity of their careers in needing to set some time apart for things like this. A piece of knowledge that has Harry shifting his phone away as YN sets the food on the coffee table, reaching out to gently pull on her arm to meet his puckered lips.

“Thank you,” He whispers.

He receives one of her knee-buckling smiles before leaving a final kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“M’gonna be in the bedroom when yeh done.”

Harry circles his lips in a playfully suggestive way and he’s rewarded with one of her infamous eye rolls. He can’t help but give a pinch to her bum when she turns to leave before going back to answer the interviewer’s next question. She bites back a giggle to not out herself within the interview before tip-toeing her way out of the room.

If she could, she would have explained to him that she wasn’t going to wait up for him in the bedroom, not for any sexy time, but to use the big desktop computer where she’s able to use some of her recording/editing software.

After uploading a couple of voice files from her phone to the desktop, she doesn’t pay much attention to how many files she highlights and drags into her editing program. It isn’t until she’s in a groove of picking bits and piece from her demos that she stumbles upon a file she didn’t record herself. The guitar melody is significantly different than the one she had originally uploaded and when she begins to curiously sift through the file date of when it was made, she hears Harry’s soft voice come through.

Boyfriends

They think you're so easy

They take you for granted

They don't know they're just misunderstanding you

YN hasn’t heard this song before, not even when it was being drafted and it makes her eyebrows pinch together.

You love a fool who knows just how to get under your skin

You, you, you still open the door

Almost immediately after hearing these words, she’s transported back to the numerous amount of times where she’s taken him back into her life to hop back onto the “on” phase of their on-and-off relationship.

This couldn’t have been recently written, surely not created during this year fresh into their official relationship.

Are they just pretending?

They don't tell you where it's heading

YN is knocked out of her thoughts when she hears her name being called from the doorway. He doesn’t say anything more but instead goes to lean his hip on the desk in front of her.

“Why did yeh keep this from me?” YN isn’t mad or upset but rather curious—a reaction he wasn’t really expecting out of her if he was being honest. This was a song he had written when he was deeply hurt—the both of them were—and it wasn’t necessarily a happy path down memory lane whenever that section of their past is brought up.

“I dunno really. I guess it’s just something that I wanted to put out at the time. It wasn’t the right time and I remember how much Cherry put you off so I put away this one. It never really came up again so...out of sight out of mind I suppose.”

YN hums, keeping her gaze on the screen, “S’a beautiful song.”

“Our songs always seem to end up that way, don't they?” Harry offers a soft smile when he reaches up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Our songs?”

Harry hums in response, “Hmh, of our—what did you call it once—our ‘fuck-up situation’ I think you said?”

The two of them huff out a small laugh at the memory. It was only a year ago when their situationship finally came to an end after two years (and only seven days for it to get exposed to the public), when they were both so close yet so closed off from each other. A good chunk of the Fine Line songs have had an up-beat/pop song melody over the melancholy lyrics.

It all seems like a lifetime ago at this point with their relationship being the strongest it's ever been. Both are undoubtedly grateful to not be in that part of their lives anymore but content that they get to look at each other now to see how far they’ve both come. What better way to capture the timeline of their emotions than through music?

"Doesn't seem that complicated anymore, does it?" She gives her love a satisfied smile.

"Thank heavens for that," He plants a kiss on her forehead. "Now, come gimme a cuddle before I die from lack of touch."

He's already pulling her up and out of her seat over the short distance to the large bed yet her mind gets stuck on the lyrics he sang merely a year ago.

“This was one of the few tracks that I didn’t help write which is a bit strange, at least on my end,” YN smirks, lifting up her index finger knowing. “But I was able to bring in a very special person to bring the song to its completion and to persuade H to finally put it on the album.”

YN and the production team are all huddled up together in her home studio in LA as they talk quietly amongst themselves. It’s been a couple of weeks since she first heard the song as they’ve been working on other tracks for the record but it was finally time to finish the song.

“I dunno, he said he still wanted to work on it,” Tyler, one of Harry’s core producers, says with a scratch of his beard.

“Well, we’re not gonna make this a Watermelon Sugar situation where he keeps putting the song off from not being able to figure out what it needed,” YN points out with her hands on her hips. “The song almost didn’t make it on the album, babe. And this song is too good to just toss aside.”

“The song is basically finished,” Kid shrugs. “And if he doesn’t like it—which I doubt—then we can always scrap the idea and have Mitch play it instead.”

“But I think he’s really gonna—”

“I’m really gonna what?” The team turns around to see the boss man come into the home studio. He looks up from the phone in his hand before rising an eyebrow. “What’s going on.”

The production team share a smile with one another before turning their attention to the man before them.

“We enlisted a very special person,” YN begins. Harry eyes the group suspiciously, especially at his love when she’s practically bouncing in her spot from excitement.

As if it were planned, the door leading to YN’s recording room opens to reveal none other than Ben Harper.

“Hey YN, got everything set up inside whenever you’re ready—oh, hey,” Ben offers a warm smile to Harry who seems utterly star-struck. If YN had a dollar for every time Harry has brought up this man’s Spotify to show her one of his new songs and geek out about the musician’s style, her pockets would be overflowing. So it was a no-brainer that YN would pull a few strings to bring in the favored artist to be a feature musician for the track.

”I think the good part of [Boyfriends] is that it is everything. It’s both acknowledging my own behavior. It’s looking at behavior that I’ve witnessed. I grew up with a sister, so it’s watching her date people and watching friends date people, and people don’t treat each other very nicely sometimes. It was one of those really quick, just say what you think of boyfriends.”

Even now as he sits next to his love, her eyes bounce around the large computer screen in front of her, diligently working on the added guitar bits for the song, he still can’t wrap his head around the fact that she’s here. After all this time, times when any person would have turned around and walked in a different direction without a second thought, she was still by his side.

From keeping their feelings pushed aside and locked away for five years during their time in the band together, to a secret on-and-off relationship where it was a kiss and don’t tell situation, under the blinding lights of the media. To now being officially together without a doubt in either one’s mind that they’re it for one another, it all seems unreal yet painfully so at the same time.

You feel a fool

You're back at it again

Despite the addition of Ben Harper’s playing on the official track, there was one aspect of the song Harry wanted to act. The two always find it fun and interesting when there can be hidden messages within songs: like when YN suggested Olivia Rodrigo whisper I love you quite literally in between the chorus and the verse of her song Deja Vu or how one can faintly Harry sing the words fine line in Sunflower Vol. 6.

With this song in particular, it’s explaining how Harry isn’t the best boyfriend and in turn, YN keeps opening up her arms to let him back into her life.

Instead of the ending of the song flowing back to the beginning of the song to make it an endless loop, he’s reversing it to end the toxic cycle.

It’s here where it finally hits him. He knew this truth since forever it seems but it’s officially time. He doesn’t want to just be her boyfriend. He wants more. She’s the love of his love for crying out loud.

Taglist:

He wants her to be his wife.

Next song here! 🌷

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305

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jinwoosungs · 2 years

Text

{ 71 }

rescuer.

lies of p.

pinocchio x reader

your head was pounding when you finally woke up, the grogginess swirling around you making it difficult for you to focus.

you had no idea what had just happened. one minute, you were walking around the city with pinocchio, and the next you felt something grab your arm, tearing you away from the beautiful mechanoid as a searing pain was felt ripping through your head.

that was when your memories halted, making you draw a blank at the events that took place before you found yourself trapped in what appeared to be a dark dungeon. cold murky water was felt soaking through your pants, and the pain that had once taken over your head had been dulled back to a slight pulsating sensation.

grateful that your legs weren't broken, you stand back to your full height and walk towards the steel bars that kept you trapped within this cell. as your fingertips enclose around the coolness of the metal bars, you jump back upon seeing a crowbar slam against them. your reflexes nearly failed you, for if the person managed to hit you with the weapon, you were certain that your fingers would be lost.

your kidnappers were kept hidden in the darkness, but you could vaguely make out two shadowy figures laughing.

"behave like a good little prisoner. all you need to do is stay here and wait while we ambush your little prince."

"yeah he's bound to come, since you seem to be his precious little heart. the doll's become much more confident with his lies now that you're around."

you were left shaking at their words. these people, they were after pinocchio?

you tremble at the thought of losing him. he was all that you had in such a scary city like krat. you lost most of your families due to the plague and had nowhere else to go. it was thanks to you finding pinocchio that you were able to survive for this long.

not wanting to hinder him, you asked him to train you a bit, taking with you a sword that once belonged to your father. when you told pinocchio your desire to fight alongside him, all he gave you was the slight tilt of his head and what appears to be a questioning glance.

"but you won't need to fight as long as you stay by my side. i can protect you."

despite how his words made your heart skip beats, you managed to hide your true emotions and roll your eyes at the sentiment. "but i don't want to be weak, nor bring you down. please p, teach me some swordsmanship? i've never seen or met anyone strong like you."

cue another head tilt, "but that's why you should rely on me to keep you safe. i'm strong. and i can take on those automatons that have been driven to madness."

you let out another groan, "what? so you're telling me that if anything were to happen to me, you're going to come to my rescue?"

his gaze was unwavering when he gives you a solemn nod, "yes."

dammit to hell, was this getting bad. your hands weakly shake at the bars, not feeling even a slight budge from them. your mind kept running through scenarios of what you could do to escape, only to freeze when you heard some loud commotion coming from outside.

"ah, i see the prince has already arrived."

the harsh sounds of metal cutting through metal makes you wince, and you weren't sure if you were worth putting pinocchio in danger.

"how exciting! your boy must be desperate to see you again." one of your captors chuckles, readying what looked to be a weapon made out of chains. "it sounds like he's cutting through all the dolls we set up to play with him."

it was true, you could hear pinocchio's grunts and sounds of his sword cutting through whatever monstrosities they had placed before him. you kept wishing that pinocchio would turn back, or listen to gemini's warnings about this all being a trap.

yet none of your wishes came true the moment pinocchio slams the door open. his steps were heard echoing across the wet cobblestones as your captors stand guard in front of your cell.

"pinocchio! get out of here, don't bother with rescuing me! i'm not worth it! they're going to try and destroy you!" you cry out, trying to warn him so that he could at least save himself.

"shut up already!" one of your abductors face you, hands raised with a sharp knife in their grasp, "if you're not going to behave like a good prisoner, then you will be punished!"

"wait, don't-!"

you shut your eyes, ready to accept the blow when something hot was felt licking against your skin. the sudden flames seen ignited in front of your very eyes makes you fall away with a gasp. the last thing you saw was the same knife being dropped once the fire stopped-

yet no bodies could be seen; they had somehow managed to escape even with pinocchio's flames wielded with his legion arm. even with your captors sudden disappearance, pinocchio showed no signs of wanting to go after them. instead, he reaches your cell and breaks away the melted bars with his bare hands.

your mind was still spinning and hazy, rendering you unable to fully stand once pinocchio reaches you. kneeling down so that he could meet your gaze, you feel his hand reach behind your back in order to bring you closer to his chest in a tight embrace.

"don't ever leave my side like that ever again."

you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, about to respond when pinocchio suddenly lets go of you. he stands back to his full height and tells you, "we need to leave now."

"yes, i agree with you, but can you give me a minute?" he looks back down at you, cerulean eyes practically glowing from beneath the moonlight as you gave him a sheepish smile. "oh, i'm not hurt or anything! it's just...my legs fell asleep from sitting in this position for so long- ah!"

almost immediately, pinocchio picks you up to carry you in his arms, his movements swift and calculated as he brings you back outside and into the city of krat. you shiver upon seeing the many lifeless automatons, no doubt being damaged by pinocchio's strength alone.

feeling touched by his desire to save you, you carefully wrap your arms around his neck, "p?"

"hm?"

"thank you for saving me." your eyes displayed your sincerity, making pinocchio's lips twitch up in a tiny smile.

"no matter what they do to try to take you away from me, it's futile. for i will always be here to rescue you."

and you suppose that this was a promise pinocchio intended to keep.

a.n. - this was written bc i had a strong desire to write for pretty prince pinocchio 🥹 his x reader tag needs more stories tbh

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#liesofp x reader #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #.stories

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imhereformr · 7 months

Note

Waking Up... And the clock reads yesterday for Riven please (:

Guess who's aliiiiiiiiiiive (sort of)

Riven thought sleep would never come, but it did. It was a cruel, fitful sleep that had him tossing and turning all night. After the nightmare day he'd had, restless sleep was the best he could hope for. And really, even restless sleep was better than being awake.

His alarm went off at 5:30. Riven silenced the phone, dropped it beside his pillow and rolled back over. He could skip his morning workout just this once. His muscles wouldn’t deflate if he missed one day of weights and his legs wouldn’t stop working if he didn’t go for his morning run. What was the point anyways?

I can’t do this anymore; we’re not working.

That was what she’d said. Quick and simple, like she was trying to get the words out before they got stuck in her throat. He had nodded, gotten up from the bar and walked away. He didn’t want Musa to see him cry. A year and a half of having his worthless life blessed by her love had come to a crushing halt yesterday, November 12th at 6:37 pm. The walk home had been a numb blur of crossing streets the streets of Gardenia and having people move around him as he rushed home to the safety of his room.

He had almost fallen back asleep when his alarm blared in his ear. Riven cursed himself for setting a backup alarm for days when he didn’t feel like getting up. He fumbled for the phone and stabbed the silence button, returning the room to its previously dead state.

Outside of his room he could hear Brandon and Sky joking about something. Brandon’s loud, borderline obnoxious laugh echoed through their far-too-small-for-six-people apartment, grating on Riven’s nerves. He twisted the pillow around until he was almost smothering himself, but their incessant chatter seemed to not care about solid objects because it got no quieter.

Exasperated and unable to sleep, Riven sat up. Apparently, he would be working out this morning. It was that or lay in bed and ruminate on how he’d fucked up his relationship. He would wait until Brandon and Sky had left, though. By now, Musa had almost certainly told the other girls about the breakup and Stella had inevitably opened her big mouth and told Brandon who had also inevitably opened his somehow bigger mouth and told the other guys. And the last thing he wanted right now was Sky and Brandon’s pity.

He grabbed his phone, determined to mindlessly scroll through social media to avoid thinking. Though, maybe he would stalk Musa’s page? Or maybe not. That wouldn’t do him any good. But really what more harm could it do? He already felt empty. He couldn’t possibly feel more empty, could he?

“Hey, Riven, are you coming or not?” Brandon shouted through the door before Riven could even turn on his phone.

“I’ll, uh, see you guys there” he shouted back, thankful that Brandon didn’t pester him about more than whether he was getting his ass moving. He would break Brandon’s pretty little face if the squire so much as thought to ask how Riven was feeling.

“K. Cool, see you later.”

Riven laid back in bed with a sigh and turned on his phone. He nearly dropped it onto his face when he saw the message that had popped up.

Musa (6:14 am): Hey, are you free tonight?

He clicked the message instantly then froze when the full chat screen appeared. He didn’t know what to say. Did he just say yes? Did he ask why she wanted to see him? Did she miss him? Did she regret her decision?

Riven stared at the screen for what felt like hours, reading over her words, trying to decipher the hidden message that wasn’t there, to figure out what was wrong.

Then it hit him.

This was the same message she’d sent yesterday morning while he was heading out with Brandon and Sky. And every message that had followed – his confirmation that he was free, her suggesting that they get a drink, his letting her know that he’d be a bit late – was missing. It was like yesterday had never happened.

He fumbled his way back to his home screen, nearly dropping his phone again in the process. He stared at the picture of him and Musa on their first anniversary – they'd gone to a “romantic” fancy restaurant that Helia had suggested. After they had eaten the, admittedly, delicious food, they stripped into much more casual clothes in the unnervingly fancy bathrooms and gone to a free concert in a park where they’d spent the night making out and barely paying attention to the show. He took the picture near the end of the night – long after the band had finished, and people had left – when they were lying on the grass and joking around, both trying to avoid having to call it a night.

Back when they were happy... Before he’d gotten scared and started to pull away from her. Before she’d started getting frustrated with him and his unwillingness to open up. Before she’d stopped trying to talk to him.

Right there, just above Musa’s head, was the second most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He felt hope bloom in his chest. He could turn this around. He could make her change her mind. He could save them. His phone read November 12th, 6:58 am.

For safe measure he looked up the date and nearly cried tears of joy when he saw that his phone hadn’t glitched.

And then he called Musa. She answered on the first ring.

“Riven? Shouldn’t you be under a few hundred pounds right now?”

“I didn’t go to the gym. Do you have time before work? We could get breakfast.”

She didn’t. She had to be at work for 8; she had to open the music store that day. He suggested dinner or a show – he could probably find some concert or comedy show. She countered with drinks. Exactly what she’d suggested yesterday right down to the place and time.

“Yeah, that sounds good” he replied. He was determined not to let her plans to break up with him get him down. He’d take the day to think about what he wanted to say to her and then hopefully not freak out when he got there and lose the ability to speak like he tended to do when emotions came up. He wasn’t giving up that easily.

He sucked at his job that day. Not that he was ever great; customer service was not his strength. He was particularly bad that day. So many orders were wrong, a few plates got dropped, some poor man got soup on his leg. It was not a good day to be his customer.

It was a good day to be Riven though – or as good as it ever really got, anyways. He knew exactly what he wanted to say. And because he didn’t trust himself to get the words out, he also wrote it down.

He got to the restaurant Musa had suggested at 5:45 – no sticking around work today. He sat at the bar and ordered for both of them: two blackberry beers that sounded exactly like something Musa would like.

Musa got there at 6. She looked tired and stressed. Had she been like that yesterday? He couldn’t remember. Musa had never had a great sleep schedule – she usually got up around 7 after having been up for hours the night before doing something or other: usually writing, but sometimes it was studying or, for a few weeks after her foray into the Golden Kingdom, crying. Despite her not-so-great sleeping habits, she’d had never looked quite this tired.

“Listen, we need to talk” she started, taking a large sip of the beer. “That’s good...” she mumbled before taking another large gulp. She was nervous. How had he not seen that? It seemed so obvious now that he knew what was coming.

“I thought you’d like it...”

He was stalling. The words he wanted were there, they were in his mind all lined up waiting to go, he just needed to get them out. He had practiced this. He had recited the words he wanted to say all day at work – sometimes accidentally saying something meant for Musa to a client – and the entire walk to the restaurant.

“So... uh...” Musa fidgeted with her sleeves. Now, while she was trying to get the words out, was his chance to tell her everything. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words he wanted died on his tongue.

Again.

And again.

And why couldn’t he get the stupid fucking words out? He was growing increasingly irritated with himself and it was starting to show, and Musa would think it had to do with him and then she’d definitely leave and WHY COULDN’T HE JUST GET THE WORDS OUT?!!?!??

“Riven” she sighed, “I ca-”

He pulled the paper – the one that contained every word he wanted to say to her – and held it out. It was a last resort. He wanted to tell her everything; to show her that he could do this whole boyfriend thing properly. A last resort would have to do. Musa startled a bit. Her questioning eyes lifted from the paper in his hands to his, tears pooling in her blue eyes. God, he really was a jerk. How could he not have noticed that she was on the verge of tears yesterday?

“Please” he whispered.

Musa took the paper between trembling hands and unfolded it. He watched, unable to breathe or move or think, as she read. Every shuddering breath he took tore him apart and every soft smile stitched him back together. A tear escaped her eyes and slid down her cheek, dropping onto the page.

He wanted to reach out: to brush the tear away even if it had already escaped her face; to take her hand; to kiss her forehead; to touch her knee; to tell her he loved her. He just couldn’t. Not until he knew she understood that he would go to the end of the universe for her. That he would always come back to her. That he would kill for her. And die for her. And live for her. Riven had spent his entire life insisting that he would never fall in love and never be one of those idiots that was willing to give up everything for a girl. Then Musa looked at him and smiled at him, and all of it – the stories, the love songs – made sense.

There were still tears in her eyes when she looked up, but it was different. When she’d come in, she looked dejected. Now, she looked at him with a love so fierce it burned him up in the best possible way. It horrified him to realise that she hadn’t looked at him like that in weeks when a year ago that (and utter rage, but he could pretend that one didn’t happen) was the only way she ever looked at him.

“I’m sorry” he whispered, stretching his arm to offer her his hand.

Musa smiled at him. She folded the paper and shoved it into her pocket. “I’m keeping this” she told him as she took his hand and pulled it into her lap.

“Okay” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. The plan had been to burn the paper so no one would ever know he had feelings, but if Musa wanted to keep it, that was okay too. Anything was okay, as long as she was happy.

“One more try” she nodded. “We give us one more try.”

“I’ll do better” he assured her.

Musa pulled her chair closer to him, all the while never letting go of his hand. “Me too.”

“Muse, you have noth-”

“Clearly I do” she scoffed. “Riven, I had no idea you... that you felt this way about me. I was so sure you didn’t care, and I’d gotten so in my head and started convincing myself that you were... I don’t know. Whatever” she shook her head. “Flora told me I should talk to you weeks ago. Clearly, she was right...”

“The bitch” he deadpanned.

“For real. Like, fuck her” Musa laughed. When her laughter subsided, she took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to you even if...” she trailed off.

“Talking about it fucking sucks?”

“Yeah.”

“You could just write me a song” he suggested.

“And you can just write me a letter” she countered with another laugh that made his heart flutter. “But we talk. However we need to.”

And they did talk. All evening. They talked through four pitchers of beer, a split plate of “mixed starter platter”, a lot of tears – some from him, as much as he loathed to admit it – and one very annoyed bartender that hated that they were the last two people in the place. They got everything out into the open and, much to his surprise, he didn’t care that people could hear them.

When they finally left, it felt like a weight that he didn’t even realise had existed had been lifted off them; like they were back in that honeymoon phase. Riven walked Musa home and kissed her goodnight when they reached her door. He turned to leave but she pulled him back into her before leading him up to the girls’ second floor apartment.

They settled into bed. Musa curled herself up into him and Riven buried his face in her hair. He could feel her fingers tracing lazy circles into his back until she fell asleep. And then, he forced himself to stay awake, not wanting to miss a moment with her. When he finally allowed himself to go to bed, sleep came easily.

#winx club #winx #winx musa #winx riven #rivusa #muri #set in season 4 #oneshot #prompt

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acerathia · 8 months

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two birds || Act IV

Summary:

Hanahaki: A disease stemming from bottling up romantic feelings, as these decide to grow inside the lungs and the blood system of the sick person, resulting in flowers. Thus the first symptoms are the coughing up of flower petals accompanied by pain and breathlessness, as the flower continues to grow as long as the affected does not confess their feelings. Alternatively, the growing flower can be removed via surgery, but it may affect the ill person’s ability to feel love in various forms. Or How do you react with falling in love with no real chance? Simple, a tragedy in five acts.

Wordcount: 2.0k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Obito Uchiha / Reader

Tags/CW:

features of a tragedy, hanahaki disease, childhood friends, some degree of isolation, No War AU,

Note:

Please note that I choose to not tag some stuff, as it contains heavy spoilers, proceed with caution and with the knowledge that everything is either connected to the tragedy aspect, or the hanahaki disease itself. i almost forgot lmao

Scene I. – YOU and OBITO UCHIHA, dancing under the stars, floating in the background

The scene: A lake under the clear sky, a place of the desired dreams.

Soft lips on yours, breath intermingling, connecting. You take a step back, letting your eyes glide over his face, a bright smile crinkling, stars filling the vastness of his eyes, locked onto yours, only on you. And you open your mouth, head empty to actual words, but your heart bursting with them. But before you could even utter a single word, he starts grimacing, a cough rattling the picture in front of you. Petals dripping down his lips, staining them like blood.

His eyes still fixed on your figure. "This is your fault…" he rasps, flowers blooming on his tongue, the stems breaking through his throat, his body evaporating in red petals, sticking to your skin, entering your pores, integrating themselves into your bloodstream, red on red.

And then you're all alone, red staining your insides and the beds of your nails. Nothing but flowers and pain and hurt. And you, useless, lonely, sad. This is what your fate is, what it's always supposed to be. Filled with the void and death.

Peaceful in its own way, yet crawling over your skin like long lost touches. You can't help but scratch over your veins, trying to get rid of that growing itch, only to see flowers blooming in the open scratches, bursting your skin open.

You feel your ribs cracking and creaking, pressure against the suddenly brittle bones, taking your breath away. It feels like you're about to burst open, to bloom within splatters of red petals.

Scene II. – YOU, all alone, with the open window dragging a breeze into your heavy room

The scene: Your home, stagnant breath of the lost.

With a gasp, you open your eyes, the rays of the sunrise barely hitting your lashes. Your fingers curl on your chest, feeling the bones resting in their place. And you want to take a breath, but something has lodged itself in your throat once again, and you have no other choice but to hack and cough, iron coating your tongue until something fills your mouth, the taste of pollen against your teeth. As usual you simply pluck it out of your insides, keen on getting rid of it, only to halt your movements. The petals fill your palm, colors blooming between your fingers. Only it isn't only a petal but a whole flower, your blood invisible against its softness.

A carnation, layers upon layers draped over your skin. And you do nothing for a moment, nothing but simply stare at the flower which has bloomed inside of you. You take a grating breath before crushing the fragile plant between your fingers. The movement sending jolts of pain through your joints, creaking and cracking, feeling swollen.

With this, the pain starts, as every bone feels under pressure, barely able to move, static and yet ever-growing. A curse tumblew weakily over your lips, hot, feverish pain too overbearing to properly think, much less move. You don't know if this is a side effect from the flowers, or if you suddenly got sick with whatever sickness causes that sort of pain.

In the end it doesn't matter, as you have to report it to the Hokage nonetheless, your incapacity a variable they now have to consider. So you put some comfortable clothes on, ignoring the growing bruises along your veins, and make your way to the Hokage, to your Sensei.

Scene III. – YOU, and afterwards MINATO NAMIKAZE, the smell of paper and ink, the smell of responsibility and the oncoming talk

The scene: The tower, where all the powerful men had resided for hours to come

With a rasp you make sure nothing is clogged in your throat, preferring to not choke in the middle of speaking, before you finally knocked at the door. A hushed murmur can be heard until said door opens, an Anbu leaving the office with hanging, tired shoulders but content nonetheless.

You can't help but knock on the frame once again, to make sure he is ready to allow you to enter. He looks up and waves you in with a smile.

"Good morning! A pleasant surprise to see you so early," he welcomes you warmly, eyes flitting over your face and features slowly morphing into worry. "Still sick?"

You nod slowly, careful to not set off another bout of prickly pain. "I'm sorry, Minato-sensei, I think I need a prolonged leave. I– I won't get better any time soon…" Your voice is hoarse, the last few days have turned your throat raw.

You know, you should've told him the truth, but can you really? Can you really tell him and risk him thinking of you as someone lovesick? As someone controlled by their feelings until they kill you? As someone weak willed, not simply confessing or undergoing surgery? You cherish the man in front of you, and the mere thought of him filled with pity, borderline disgust cracks your ribs, your soul.

So you keep your condition a secret, until it's too late, until nothing else matters. Until your love consumes you, turning you into its habitat.

He frowns but doesn't say anything before signing the necessary paperwork for your extended leave. But before he hand you the piece of paper he says: "If you don't mind, visit the hospital on the way. Maybe they can help you."

You snort. "Thanks sensei, but it's probably some heat exhaustion or something, no worries." And you grab the paper with a goodbye and a wave, only waiting to be out of sight to slump your body against the next wall.

Your skin itches and hurts, as if something is crawling over it, and every touch only worsens these symptoms, bruises spreading like weed. Nausea violates you and had you eaten something earlier you would have gotten rod of your insides. You're silently thanking your foresight, as it's enough to rip your lungs out of their place with each breath you take.

All you want to do is go home, lay down and stare at the ceiling, maybe drown in some painkillers, like plants in fertilizer. But it seems like fate doesn't like you in particular, as you happen to stumble over the usual bickering duo of your group, plastic bags slung around their wrists. They seem like they have been grocery shopping, at the worst timing. You hurry to pull the hood of your hoodie over your head in a way that puts a shadow over your features. Even if the way you're leaning against the wall is already suspicious enough.

You hear them getting closer and you glance their way, only to see Obito pouting at something Kakashi seems to have said in retort, and he doesn’t know how to respond to it. Your eyes wander over his puckered lips to his eyes still full with joy, crinkling at the corners. And a thought comes to your mind: if he already looks so happy to see and talk with Kakashi, with whom he has an eternal feud, how is his face when enjoying some time with Rin, his beloved? You wish you could see it, but the only thing happening in your mind are flashes of the night. His accusations chanting through your head.

The multiple facets of Obito mix and mingle, and despite the pain, despite the horrors of your mind, you still love him, your heart only beating for him, confessing your feelings with each beat. Each beat choking you more and more. And at this point it doesn't matter to you anymore, you cough into the crook of your arm, avoiding looking at the pair as they walk past you.

Once you're sure they're far enough, you try your best to straighten up, spitting some leaves and stems into the ground. You continue on your way home only to stop when someone tugs at your clothes. You turn around to come face to face with Naruto. The little kid looks like he has been playing around with his friends when he noticed you, a bright grin adorning his chubby face.

"What's up! You wanna play with us?" he asks, pointing a thumb towards a group of other children.

You chuckle, the sound grating harshly, before patting his head. "What's up little guy? Hm, I don't feel well, le–"

"Is it because of the flowers? The one you're like vomiting and stuff? Did you eat them?" he interrupts you and you have to pull yourself together to not flinch at his astute observation.

"Uhm, yeah, I ate some bad stuff while on a mission, now I'm all sick! Horrible stuff! Now, that's why you gotta tell the truth, yknow? Don't hide stuff, because it can hurt you, or anyone else. So, I told you the truth, and now you gotta go back to your friends, imma play a game with you another time, deal?" You hold a hand for him to shake before once again joining his group in laughter.

You doubt there is going to be another time, but you don’t really have a choice in that matter. At least you hope you could give Naruto some tips for the future, even if you're not really worried about him in that aspect.

This meeting managed to distract you long enough for the pain to ebb away, leaving nothing but a dull ache, the veins waiting for the sun, your sun, to appear again, whether in your thoughts or elsewhere is irrelevant. Luckily, the distraction lasted until you collapse onto your bed, barely enough time to wrap yourself in a blanket before another coughing fit escapes your lungs, unprompted. They have been getting worse as of late, everything triggering their chokehold on you, pain flaring with every inhale, with every creak of your joints. You don’t even have to actively think or see him for such an intense reaction.

Those reactions, almost like an allergy, occured when in his company, or when your brain was admiring him in silence, in the peace of your room. That's why you have been avoiding him as of late, as you could no longer hide the way your body reacts so viscerally to his proximity alone.

That's why you have begun to avoid him altogether, him and everything reminding you of him, which proved to be more difficult than you thought, as he is so deeply ingrained in your life, every step and every stroke of paint on your wall carries a certain memory with him. So you got worse, you isolated yourself and still didn't get better. And the gap between you and your friends made your heart ache, the pressure inside of the valves intensifying.

But you'd rather wither away in your room than allowing your friends to see you in this state in the first place. How could you dare to even allow them to feel guilt in the first place? Every single seed of your misery you had sown yourself.

A pained sigh escapes you once the coughing fit is over, color splattered all over your blanket. This drained you of all your leftover energy, but you still have some stuff to finish, which you gladly took to your bed rather than move to the table.

You get rid of the colorful blanket, making place to strew papers all around you. And then you began to work, hands trembling, vision fading, but you manage to finish up and to neatly pack everything together and to place it on the commode next to you.

With that put out of the way you lean back into your cushions, the soft material warming your skin and you push yourself closer, eyes directed towards the window. Trees and plants are all this little hole can offer you, so you close your eyes, imagining the blue salty sea. And you wish you had visited it once before, leaving the woods for more than work. But this daydream has to be enough, the water laping against your ankles, welcoming and yet deceiving. The water nourishes your soul and you step closer, still aware of this fantasy, as there is no danger in that. So you allow yourself to be embraced by the sea, taking a deep, free breath, no constraints, no pain, and no lost friendships. Only fading laughter.

#obito x reader #obito x you #obito x yn #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x you #obito uchiha x yn #uchiha obito x reader #uchiha obito x you #uchiha obito x yn #uchiha x reader

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mikelogan · 2 years

Note

ok so for that word/genre prompt thing…

“hand” + action

JD is clumsy. Ask anyone who's spent more than five minutes with him and they'll tell you as much. It's rare, however, that his clumsiness causes any more than a couple scratches and a bruised ego. Rare, but not impossible.

The only reason he's out here is because of Carla. She insisted on a weekend spent in nature. Hiking, camping, bonfires, the whole thing. JD has never been one for hiking, for obvious reasons, but Carla knows how to motivate him, for better or for worse. All she had to say was that she invited Dr. Cox along and now here he is, trudging across uneven terrain, up a mountain, and he's not sure the promised scenic views at the top are worth it.

Turk and Carla have gone ahead, having grown impatient with JD's speed - or lack thereof. Surprisingly, Dr. Cox stayed back with him. Not that he hasn't subjected JD to copious amounts of verbal torment, but he hasn't left him in the dust... yet.

Once he's covered in sweat and his legs are aching, JD finally musters up the courage to ask if they can take a quick rest. Dr. Cox obliges with little comment and shrugs off his backpack. JD isn't sure how he's doing this, how he's carrying a bag twice the weight of JD's while still managing to look like a page from a fitness magazine. Not that he's been staring at him or anything.

JD finds a shady spot and sits down on the rocky cliff edge, swinging his legs and admiring the view below. It's a sharp drop-off, but the mountainside really is beautiful and he can see why Carla wanted so badly to bring everyone out here for the weekend. That is, until he hears a sudden cracking noise and the rock he's on crumbles beneath him. He doesn't even have time to scream as the earth below him gives way and he's sliding against sharp, shattered rock. He screws his eyes shut against the dirt and dust and pain and waits for it to stop.

And finally it does. He cracks an eye open, grimacing from the pain on the entire right side of his body. Hands shaking, he shifts to survey the damage and realizes just how much blood there is. His shirt is already soaked with it and the metallic smell hits his nose and he feels dizzy. He chances a look back up and sees he's not as far down as he thought. Maybe, if he could just climb back up...

The sharp stinging pain in his right arm brings that idea to a screeching halt. He doesn't want to look at his injuries for fear that shock will set in. Right now, his heart is pounding with adrenaline and his sole hope lies with Dr. Cox. Just as he thinks to call out, Dr. Cox's face appears. It seems he's lying flat on his stomach and peering over the cliff's edge, and JD isn't reassured by the expression on his face.

"Newbie, Jesus Christ, are you all right?"

It takes JD a moment to remember how to speak and when he does, he can't stop his voice from shaking. It frightens him, how uncertain he sounds. "There's a lot of blood. My whole right side. Got cut on the way down."

"Just sit tight and do your best not to move, okay?" Dr. Cox tells him and not for a second does JD think to disobey. There's an authority in his voice that helps put him at ease. As much as he can in a situation like this, at least. "I'm coming down."

"Dr. Cox, don't," JD calls back. "It's unstable and I don't want you to get hurt."

"What would you like me to do, Newbie? Just leave you there to bleed out? Not a chance."

JD watches on in worry as Dr. Cox slowly lowers himself down over the edge and finds a stable footing. He's to the left of JD rather than straight over top, which JD is grateful for since he's sending small bits of rock and debris tumbling down the mountainside. Once he's close enough, Dr. Cox reaches a hand out, his other hand having found strong, stable purchase.

"Can you take my hand?" Dr. Cox asks, his eyes locked firmly on JD's.

JD blinks at him in slow motion. "I'm dizzy," he says in a much softer voice than before. Logically, he knows what's happening; he's lost a lot of blood and is in a tremendous amount of pain and his body is trying to protect him from it.

"JD, look at me." And JD does. He meets Perry's eyes and sees the genuine concern there. But this is bad because Perry never calls him JD. Does that mean he's dying? But he holds Perry's gaze because he does what he's told. "That's it, just keep looking at me. Now, can you shuffle your feet? Come towards me, little by little. I know it hurts, but you're doing great. Attaboy, just a bit more, then you can reach out your left arm."

And then JD feels fingertips brush against his own. The edges of his vision are black. "Tunnel vision," he mumbles.

"Stay with me here, kid. Hold on tight."

He's being hauled over and the grip on his hand hurts, too, but priorities, right? His center of gravity is completely thrown off, but Dr. Cox is there, maneuvering him as though he weighs nothing at all.

"Christ, kid, you weigh a ton," he grunts. Oh. "Just hold onto me, tight as you can."

JD obeys despite the pain shooting up and down his right side like lightning. Dr. Cox has slung him over his shoulders as if he were a backpack, so he locks his ankles and wrists together with every ounce of strength he has left. He holds onto Dr. Cox like his life depends on it -- which it actually does, now that he thinks about it. He giggles into Dr. Cox's hair.

"As soon as you're okay, I'm going to kill you for laughing right now," he growls, heaving harsh breaths as he moves them up the side of the cliff.

JD mumbles a slurred apology and lets his head droop against Dr. Cox's. It suddenly feels so heavy. Too heavy. He's absently aware that his body is being moved again, shifting, turning. And for a moment, he doesn't hear anything. But then Dr. Cox's voice slowly fades back in and it sounds like he's talking to someone. He sounds rushed, almost afraid. But JD has never seen Dr. Cox be afraid of anything, so he must be mishearing him.

"It's... it's bad," he hears through the roaring in his ears. Opening his eyes is too difficult, so he keeps them closed and embraces the blackness. "Just hurry, all right? JD, can you hear me? I need you to stay here, okay, just stay with me."

That's the last thing JD hears before he slips under. Dr. Cox asking him to stay.

send me a one-word prompt + a genre of fic

#answered #shehungthemoon #jdox #scrubs #im so sorry this took so long!!

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teletraan-meets-jarvis · 2 years

Text

Pieces - Chapter 1

Hi everyone!

Happy 45th Anniversary to Star Wars and Kenobi eve!!!! As a contribution to the celebrations, I've decided to kick off posting of my Commander Wolffe/OFC fic 'Pieces'!

For the posting schedule, I'll aim to release fortnightly on Sundays.

Synopsis:

Having trained her whole life to keep the peace, Jedi Padawan Issa Straun is thrust into the start of the Clone Wars, expected to take command of the 104th alongside the gruff Commander Wolffe. They wade through battle after battle, trying to find their feet sharing the responsibility of leadership under Plo Koon, but what neither of their training could prepare them for was how the war would leave scars to last a lifetime.

Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Pairing: Commander Wolffe/OC Issa Straun

Warnings: M - Canon typical violence, cursing

Word Count - 6.5k

A/N: I would just like to take the chance to thank the INCREDIBLE @wild-karrde who has listened to my ramblings about this fic month after month, who has dutifully beta read all my work and dealt with my abysmal grammar and punctuation. This story probably wouldn't exist without her backing and support and I am just eternally grateful, so thank you my friend!! 💚

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Blaster fire rained down, smashing into the crates surrounding them and making the commander wince as he ducked down further to protect his head. We need a new plan to get around these sniper droids. Across the battlefield, he watched as the rest of his troops got pushed back by the enemy’s ambush, retreating for whatever cover they could find. One of the shinies was knocked to the ground as he turned his back towards the enemy for cover, his shout of pain hardly registering over the battering of blaster bolts around them.

A trickle of sweat slid down the commander’s temple beneath his helmet as he flexed his jaw at the sight of his downed trooper. Osik. “Sir, we’re pinned. Besh team can’t advance until we take out those snipers,” his sergeant’s voice crackled over their helmet comms, sounding more frustrated by the second. You and me both, the commander thought as he ground his teeth together even further while more debris showered over them from the enemy’s onslaught. The entire mission had gone aft up the second their boots hit the ground and they were faced with a much larger enemy force than intelligence had suggested.

The commander’s head cycled through images of previous battle simulations, trying to find any similar situations which could spark inspiration from the catalogue in his mind. After a few seconds, the memories behind his eyes halted on simulation 309216, one from his ARC training. We’ve got you now clankers. He felt it as his body thrummed with the pace of battle, his heart battering against his rib cage as he sucked in a few breaths before clicking on his comm.

”Alright troopers! Listen up. Aurek and Cresh teams, send out four troopers to distract the snipers, Besh will provide cover fire while the remaining groups make a break for the towers and load them with droid poppers. Any questions?”

“No sir!”

“Good. On my mark… three… two… one, NOW!”

Just as Aurek and Cresh teams made their advance, a monotonous voice cut through the blaster fight and stopped the clones in their tracks.

“SIMULATION TERMINATED.”

Immediately, the battlefield around them fritzed out of existence, leaving the troopers in a daze as the bright lights of Kamino’s training facility came back into focus once more. The soldiers present moaned at the loss of the battle, their adrenaline running high and blood boiling for the continued fight.

Their helmets snapped upwards as the speakers in the room crackled to life once more. “CC-3636, please report to Taun We’s office,” a Kaminoan’s voice boomed through the tannoy, echoing off the simulation room walls.

Wolffe looked around. He could practically feel his troopers’ excitement in the air as the realisation of what was about to happen hit everyone in the room. It’s time. Since his helmet was on, he allowed himself a smirk before addressing his men. “Looks like we’re shipping out boys.” The room erupted in cheers and whoops, brothers in arms clapping each other enthusiastically on the back as they got ready to fulfil their true purpose. With an added spring in his step, Wolffe exited the training room to find out exactly who their battalion would be assigned to.

About damn time.

—---

Issa stared intently down at the sleeve of her auburn robe. The stitching had started to come apart, leaving some loose threads dangling from the seam. She pulled at one of them but it refused to budge, causing her face to scrunch at the offending string, as if it was personally mocking her. Beside her, a modulated chuckle sounded from her Master as he placed a clawed hand over her blue one, making her pause. “Relax, little one.”

“Sorry, Master,” the Pantoran sighed, not quite understanding why she was so nervous. Well that was a bit of a lie, it was very clear why she was nervous. Preparing to meet a battalion of cloned soldiers so that she could fight in a full-scale galactic war wasn’t really an everyday occurrence for the Jedi. She looked up at the Kel Dor next to her who was peering out the side of the transport they were on. Master Plo radiated tranquillity from his every pore and Issa had never been more jealous. There was so much unknown in their future that she was unable to let her feelings flow out into the Force. What was war like? How long will we be fighting? What will the clones be like? Can I actually fight and be the leader the army needs? The list goes on. Her mind refused to be silent as each question bounced back and forth.

Trying to refocus, the young woman paid attention to her teacher once more. “Master, how are you so calm?” Issa questioned, hoping to find comfort in Master Plo’s inevitably wise words.

He turned to face her, a friendly softness around his eyes that always seemed to pull some of the weight off of her shoulders. “Because I trust in the Force, Issa. As do you. This new chapter may seem daunting and uncharted, but it is for the greater good of the galaxy, for the good of the Republic. I believe you are ready for this challenge. It will be difficult and there will be loss, but in the end, the light shall always prevail. Ensure you don’t forget that, even in the darkest of moments.” As expected, she hung off his every word. His conviction bathed her mind in a wave of calm and helped quell her spiralling nerves until they became nothing more than whispers.

“I’ll try my best to remember that,” Issa replied with a smile which finally reached her dark eyes. Plo Koon nodded, a fond look overcoming his face as she put on a determined front. Compared to other humanoid species, Kel Dors lacked the usual facial tics hinting towards what emotions they were feeling. It’d taken years of spending time with her Master, but Issa now prided herself on being able to read the minute changes in his expression behind his mask.

With a slight jolt, the transport finally came to a halt. They could already hear the hustle and bustle of the ship yard: identical voices barking orders, people dashing about, drills and hydraulics hard at work. It was time. Issa pushed the goggles on her face higher up her nose out of habit and a need to do something with her hands. Her nerves settled into the pit of her stomach once more.

“Ready, Commander?” Plo asked, his equivalent of a slight smirk evident behind his mask.

The Pantoran smiled back at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “About as ready as I’ll ever be, General”.

As they exited the shuttle, they were immediately hit with the notorious Coruscant smog. The humid and stifling air was made worse by the fumes being pumped out from the lower levels, so thick you could practically chew it. Coruscant had been Issa’s home for practically her whole life and she adored it, but the tangible atmosphere was one thing she always wished could be changed.

“Master Plo, Padawan Straun it’s good to see you both,” a voice sounded from behind them. They turned, coming face to face with Master Shaak Ti, looking as poised and elegant as ever as she made her way towards them. Her hands were clasped under the long sleeves of her cloak as she strode forwards. “Are you ready to meet your men? I must say, from my brief interactions with them so far, I believe the 104th are some of the finest soldiers the GAR have to offer. You’ve been dealt a good hand.”

“We’re pleased to hear that,” Plo replied as the pair fell in step with the Togruta. The two Masters chatted while Issa took in her surroundings with unreserved awe. The shipyard was an explosion of noise; there was always something being hammered or drilled. Amongst the racket, the smell of oil and fuel hung thick in the air, making her smile. The scent reminded her of fond times with her Master in the Temple’s shuttle bay as he taught her the ins and outs of spacecraft maintenance on his ship ‘The Blade of Dorin’. The name always did make her chuckle.

Her warm thoughts were interrupted when Master Ti asked her a question, shocking her back to the present. “Issa, how are you keeping? Are you looking forward to your new assignment?”

“I’m well Master, thank you. As for the war, I’m… ” Issa pondered what phrase would effectively communicate her current emotions, “athirst… for what may come. Wars like what we are gearing up for are things I've only read about in legend. But I am content in our decision to protect and fight for the Republic.”

“I understand your apprehension. The weight of war is a heavy one.” Issa nodded at the wise woman’s words and the trio fell into a comfortable silence for a moment. That was until Issa felt the mood shift around them in the Force, a wave of mischief passing over her from the Togruta to her left. “To prepare you for what’s to come, if you would ever like to hear a first person account from the wars of the Old Republic, I'm sure your Master would be happy to oblige.” Issa couldn’t stop herself before a bark of laughter escaped her at Shaak Ti’s deadpan jab at her Master’s age, the woman’s face remained serious until her eyes met Plo’s mask and a small smirk graced her lips.

“I see your sense of humour is as sharp as ever, Master Ti.” Plo replied with a chuckle, before grumbling under his breath. “You’ve been spending far too much time with Kit.” As their humour subsided, the Togruta continued to lead them to their meeting point.

—----------

A small transport ship lowered to reach the three of them, a gust of wind from the descent making their Jedi robes dance behind them. The bland shuttle landed with a muted clang before the doors whooshed open to reveal a Kaminoan and clone trooper.

The Kaminoan moved in almost slow motion, a strange sort of grace in the way her long limbs glided, carrying her off the transport with the clone in tow. “Welcome Jedi Master Plo Koon and Padawan Issa Straun. I am Taun We, aide to our prime minister Lama Su, and overseer of the Jedi’s cloning contract. We will be leaving the 104th battalion in your capable hands.” Taun We then moved to guide the clone forward to greet the Jedi personally. “This is CC-3636. As a Clone Commander, along with having some enhanced features in his DNA, he has undertaken extra training beyond a standard Clone Trooper, including our specialist ARC programme. His record is exemplary, and he will be a fine asset in leading your battalion.”

The soldier who stood before them wasn’t in the standard white plastoid Issa had witnessed on Geonosis. Instead he had maroon paint adorning his armour and the pattern of a wolf covered the sharp edges of his helmet. Someone's an animal fan. The patterns and colour continued down the rest of his armour, and it was all finished off with a black kama, the edges piped in a matching red-brown shade.

The commander removed his helmet before speaking, allowing the Jedi the chance to see him for the first time. Issa took the opportunity to study the man before her. Visually, he seemed to look like almost all the clone troopers she’d come across before, with his identical features and what seemed to be a regulation haircut. His presence however held something unique. His face was very no nonsense. Despite barely being a decade old, it seemed he’d furrowed his brows to the point where even if he relaxed them, two lines would forever be present between his eyes. The man’s frame was also slightly broader than the average clone, making his military stance all the more imposing.

“General Plo, Commander Straun.” The clone nodded at them each in turn as a greeting. Issa was impressed by his greeting. He’d noted how Kel Dors were to be addressed by their first name. He brushed up on his homework.

It would seem given his rank, Issa and the clone commander would be working quite closely together. The thought made Issa’s stomach do another nervous flip. CC-3636 radiated this serious and gruff attitude which contradicted everything about Issa’s own positive and excitable nature; she prayed to the Maker that they didn’t clash too badly.

“General Ti, it’s good to see you again,” the clone offered politely, pulling Issa out of her thoughts.

“Likewise Commander. I like the new look. I take it the ARC’s rubbed off on you and your brothers after all.” The Togruta smiled warmly at him, and CC-3636 changed slightly before Issa’s eyes. The coarseness surrounding him softened ever so slightly at his familiarity with Shaak Ti. With a tiny smirk of knowing, he nodded an affirmative at the woman before she continued. “I was just filling Master Plo and Issa in on how fortunate they are in being assigned your battalion.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir.”

The pleasantries were interrupted by Taun We. “Master Ti, as much as I regret bringing this introduction to an end, we must continue on if we are to introduce the next battalion to the arriving Jedi.” She announced before turning to stride back towards the transport she’d only just exited from.

“Yes of course.” The Togruta turned to face the remaining people on the platform to bid them a farewell. “Master Plo, Issa, Commander, I wish you all the best. May the Force be with you.”

—

The Venator Class Star Destroyers were incredible, their size dwarfed the countless gunships housed in it’s bays, as well as casting a large portion of the humongous landing deck they were on into shadow.

The group strode up the large ramp, the commander in front as he led them onto their vessel. The sight which awaited them was something Issa probably couldn’t have prepared for. A sea of white armour which seemed to go on for miles stretched out before them as they approached. The troopers’ shiny plastoid was a stark contrast to the metallic walls that surrounded them.

The commander moved from their side and towards the ocean of soldiers. “ATTENTION!” At his order, every single one of the troopers stomped their feet together and raised a hand to their helmet in salute. The noise was thunderous, practically shaking the durasteel they stood on. CC-3636 turned back to face them, his chest puffed out with pride. “General, Commander, the 104th welcomes you to the Triumphant.” Issa tried to keep her cool, but she couldn’t help it as she gawked at the sheer number of soldiers before her. There were easily hundreds of them, all neatly stood in rows upon rows, making perfect rectangles. These were the men that would blindly follow her into battle, who would follow her orders and trust her without question. She couldn’t help it as a shiver ran up her spine at the thought of such responsibility.

With a raised hand, Master Plo stepped forward to address their men. “At ease.” His baritone resonated across the platform, the acoustics of the space replacing the need for a microphone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I am General Plo Koon and this is my Padawan and Commander, Issa Straun.” He paused for a moment, allowing Issa to provide a small nod in way of greeting to the troops. In unison, the clones shouted a chorus of “SIRS!” and moved their hands back to their sides.

And so the fun begins, Issa thought.

—

With all the soldiers and gear loaded, Issa and Plo were led on a tour of the ship by CC-3636. He walked with perfect posture in front of them both, pointing out key areas of their new home as they passed them.

The trio finally reached the bridge. As soon as they set foot into the room, all the personnel milling about immediately shot out of their seats and into salute. “General and commanders on deck!”

“At ease,” the Clone Commander announced. Around them, the clones quietly continued on with their previous tasks as if nothing happened. This is going to take some getting used to.

One of the men on deck walked up to the trio, clad in his grey Republic naval uniform. “General Plo, Commander Straun,” the new clone greeted them politely, a slight starstruck look in his eyes. He spent a second too long looking at the two Jedi before CC-3636 cleared his throat with an unimpressed look, shocking the poor trooper back into a military stance. “Uh, sorry Commander Wolffe, I’m just here to report that all the cargo has been loaded and stored as requested.” At the mention of his apparent name, the commander’s eyes widened a tiny bit. Issa dared say he looked uncomfortable, which caused her brow to furrow. Why wouldn’t he want us to hear his name?

“Very good, trooper. Report back to your station.”

After the shiny clone disappeared, Master Plo spoke up, a slight tint of concern around his eyes at what was a clear oversight on both the Jedi’s parts. “Our sincerest apologies Commander, we weren’t aware some of you had chosen names for yourselves. How would you prefer that we address you? We’d be happy to use names over your designations should you request so.” Plo offered with a kind look.

CC-36- no Wolffe, on the other hand, looked unsure as his gaze flitted between the two Jedi. “Ah, that’s really up to you, General.”

Issa stepped forward and smiled at the gruff soldier. “Well Commander, we’d like to know what you’d prefer, honestly.”

The man studied the two for a moment longer before sighing. “My name would be good, sir. It’s more efficient to use in battle than our designations I suppose.”

“Then it’s settled,” Plo declared with a slight clap of his hands. “If possible, could you please find someone to gather a list of each clone’s name and designation so that we are better able to address the men?”

Wolffe looked slightly taken aback at his request. He quickly tried to school his features back into neutrality but Issa noticed the tiny upturn on one side of his mouth. “Of course, sir.” The clone turned on his heel to pass on the request to the relevant person, leaving the Kel Dor and Pantoran standing at the heart of their new bridge. Master Plo gave her a proud look and she smiled back at him, chuffed that they’d started off on the right foot with their commander.

----

It had been a rather long and surreal morning getting settled on the Triumphant. After Wolffe concluded the tour of the ship, the three of them had begun on their more senior responsibilities, which involved being holed up in a meeting room with Plo and Wolffe for hours on end, and while she loved her Master, this entire military thing had gone from zero to a hundred very quickly, and the young Jedi could really do with catching her breath for a few moments. Thankfully, her stomach rumbled at an opportune time, causing Plo to dismiss them both to get themselves fed before they continued their planning session.

Wolffe offered to show her to the mess hall but she politely excused herself so that she could pass by the refresher first, needing a moment to herself.

Once the durasteel door hissed shut behind her, she leaned over the sink and met her own gaze in the mirror. Issa’s navy and burgundy robes were askew on her shoulders, making her frown. The traditional clothing for Jedi had its place for many reasons, but oh how she missed her own clothes. The robes were heavy and loose, sitting draped over her thin frame, nearly drowning her figure. Guess we’re not known for being style icons, but still. She always felt like a youngling in her robes, almost as if she’d never grow into them despite being fully grown for a Pantoran, and above average height at that. Her delicate hands pulled at the neckline and readjusted her belt until she was happy that everything was back in place where it should be. The long, double-ended hilt of her lightsaber caught the light as she fidgeted, making her pause. She smoothed a hand over the engraved metal, attempting to draw some emotional strength from her weapon as the kyber crystal buzzed slightly beneath her fingertips.

Now somewhat pleased with her outfit, Issa began to give the rest of herself a quick once over. Her silver hair was scruffy from where she’d been running her hand through it. That, on top of the baggy robes, was not quite the look of professional Commander she was going for. Sighing, she lifted her goggles off her head and placed them on the side so that she could undo the bun atop her head. A groan of relief escaped her as the icy strands fell from their tight style. After messing about with it, she threw half her hair back up and left half down, her Padawan braid extending beyond her shoulder length cut. Finally content with her hair, she moved to rub at the indigo indents around her eyes. Despite not being able to see her own reflection without her eyewear, she knew from years of wearing goggles that the marks were present. As she relaxed her face, her mind began to wander back to the new weight that sat on her shoulders. Commander of a battalion. Issa was curious to know if she’d ever get used to the thought of such responsibility.

Before she could get herself worked up again, she turned on the tap and splashed some cold water on her face, jarring her back into the present moment. She dried her features and pulled her goggles back on, feeling like her whole self once again as the world around her came back into focus. Issa met her own gaze in the mirror once more. “Stop stressing, Straun. You’ve got this,” she instructed her reflection with a new determination. She could do this. She just needed to go out there and be the Commander that she wanted to be. The rest would fall into place she was sure. With a quick nod to herself, Issa mustered up all the confidence she could and exited the refresher, ready to continue on her personal mission.

——

Loud chatter bounced back and forth within the mess hall walls, all the identical voices combining into an almost white noise as Issa selected her lunch from the datapad in front of her.

The Jedi grabbed her tray and studied the room around her. She was greeted with a sea of white armour and grey naval uniforms. Her heart rate picked up as nerves began to roll through her mind. She was very much the odd one out here.

Closing her dark eyes, she took a deep and steadying breath. I came in here to get to know the battalion better, so that’s exactly what I’ll do. Issa rolled her shoulders back and began to hunt for a free seat with determination.

After a bit of wandering and feeling a few stares on her back, she finally clocked an empty space.

She plonked herself down with a shy smile and a hello to the troopers around her. All the men at the table had stopped eating and instead taken to staring at her like she’d grown two heads. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Despite her confidence in herself as a Jedi, Issa couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward under the gaze of all these soldiers. She went to push her goggles up the bridge of her nose before scratching the back of her neck. “Sorry, I can go,” she muttered as she went to grab her tray and stand up again, embarrassment tinting her cheeks a pale lilac.

A quick chorus of “no no no,” rang out, and she paused half raised off her seat. A trooper with silver hair cleared his throat. “Sorry, Commander. Please sit down.” He looked at his brothers who’d taken to playing with the food on their trays. “We just weren’t expecting you to sit with us is all. But we definitely don’t mind.” His tone was sincere and he flashed a toothy smile which eased Issa’s worries. As her embarrassment faded, she sat herself back down next to the men. “So what brings you to the mess hall, sir? Other than the obvious.”

“I wanted to meet the people I’d be fighting alongside,” she said simply, tucking into her serving of pale soup. The steam from her meal caught on her goggles and fogged them up ever so slightly.

One of the others spoke up, a trooper that looked the most unique out of them all. His hair was shaved except for two stripes which ran down the centre of his head. The left side of his face from his jaw upwards was decorated in silvery scar lines, creating a delicate and intricate pattern across his skin. “But you’re a Jedi, sir. You know you don’t have to sit with a bunch of clones right?”

“Does Commander Wolffe sit with you?” At her question, the men turned to look at the clone sat at the end who she now recognised. “Ah, sorry Wolffe. Didn’t see you there.” He waved her off as he continued shovelling food into his mouth and reading his datapad. “Anyway, my point is while we may look different, we’re one battalion. I’m nothing special. I eat, sleep and breathe the same as you. I thought this might be as good a place as any to get started in getting to know one another.”

“That’s uh, nice of you sir,” the silver haired clone replied.

“You can all call me Issa while we’re having downtime if you like. I'm not quite used to the formalities just yet.” They all turned again to look at Wolffe, almost asking his permission. He shrugged as if to say they can do what they want and a few troopers at the table smiled. “Well since we’ll be using names, would you gentlemen mind telling me yours?” Issa asked.

“I’m Sinker,” the man with the silver hair stated. “That one with the dodgy hair is Boost, self proclaimed comedic genius and all round di’kut.”

“You love me really,” Boost tutted back.

“Huh, maybe you are funny actually.” Boost pouted at Sinker’s sarcasm, making Issa chuckle. Sinker next pointed to the clone whose head was buried in a datapad. The distracted man seemed to be of a slighter frame compared to the men around him. He also sported copper hair shaved short on the sides, the curls from his fringe falling into his eyes as he looked up at her. “The nerd there is Book. Kid is obsessed with learning new stuff, but he’s killer at strategising.”

The next clone had longer and messier hair which fell into soft waves framing his face and he gave her a friendly smile as Sinker continued. “This is Cloud. Not got much awareness of what’s going on around him most of the time, but he’s one of the best snipers and slicers in the GAR.” Finally he turned his gaze towards the last clone at the table. His hair was shaved off and an intricate tattoo of a Vexis sat atop his head, giving the clone a rather imposing aura. “Oh and the short one down the end opposite Wolffe is Two-Pint. In love with heavy class weapons and despite the name, can drink the entire battalion under the table.”

“It’s nice to meet you all. You clones really do have some wonderfully unique names,” Issa acknowledged.

Boost piped up with a smirk. “Well when you’ve got a million other people to compete with, you end up scrambling for options.” They continued to tuck into their food as they chatted, any awkward tension that remained from when Issa first sat down quickly dispersing, which warmed her insides far more than the soup ever could.

“Sir- I mean Issa-” Book paused, and the Jedi nodded approvingly, urging him to continue. “You’re Pantoran, correct?”

“I am.”

“I understand that Pantorans tattoo their faces with gold markings to communicate things such as family relations, wealth, social status etcetera. Might I ask what yours mean?”

“Isn’t that a little personal to ask someone, Book?” Two-Pint scolded around a mouthful of bread, sendings small crumbs flying towards Wolffe who somehow managed to frown harder at the heavy gunner.

“No it’s fine, I can understand his curiosity.” Issa smiled at the excitable clone who beamed back at her. “You’re right, Pantorans do mark their faces for those reasons, but given that I don’t really know my biological family and I don’t have many personal belongings, my markings are ones which show me being part of the Jedi Order. I’m not the first Pantoran, so my predecessors came up with a variety of meanings and designs for Pantoran Jedi to choose from. We go through a few milestones in our lives as Pantorans which grant us the honour of getting markings. Culturally, Pantoran Jedi are supposed to undertake their trials before the age of 25, within the next two years I should have most of my markings. As for the ones I have now,” she traced the two straight golden lines running vertically from her hairline to the start of her silver eyebrows, “these two represent life and the Force.” Her fingers then moved to the single line running from her bottom lip straight down her chin. “And this one symbolises the two coming together. For even in death, there is always the Force.”

Book looked enthralled as he typed away at his datapad, abandoning his lunch in favour of documenting Issa’s every word. “That’s fascinating, thank you.”

“No problem.” Issa nodded at him and a warmth spread through her chest as she watched Book’s fingers fly across his device. She wasn’t entirely sure what she expected when going to meet the clones, but something about Book’s excitement for life and information surprised her. “While we’re on the topic of physical features, can I ask you a question, Boost?” Issa looked over at the man, who nodded as he shovelled more food into his mouth. “Your hair is pretty different compared to everyone else’s. I was wondering if there was a particular reason behind it.” She saw his cheeky demeanour immediately change at her question, shifting to one of longing and remembrance.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat and Issa cursed herself for asking him to relive a clearly painful memory. “The style’s called ‘the double stripe’. It’s to honour my batchmates, the squad I went through cadet training with. They all died on Geonosis.” His face was sombre as he remembered each of his closest brothers. Beside him, Sinker placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, which the other man leaned into gratefully.

“I’m so sorry, Boost.”

“Ah, don’t be. They went out like heroes, which is all any of us can really ask.” He gave her a sad smile before clapping his hands together and rebuilding his mischievous persona. “Anyways, enough doom and gloom. Let’s find out more about you, Commander. What’s with the goggles?”

Issa chuckled as Boost formed two circles with his fingers and put them around his eyes to mimic her eyewear. “Nothing fancy, I just can’t see very well.” She shrugged and the men all looked at each other.

“So you’re telling us that the almighty powerful Jedi we’ve been hearing about for ten years, can have crap eyesight?”

“I’m only Pantoran, I’m not a god.”

“You’re really ruining this for us sir. I hope you know that,” Sinker explained with a sigh.

“Well I can still fight blind don’t worry. Though if Master Plo loses that mask, he can’t breathe. I’ve always carried a spare around with me just in case.” Issa rolled her eyes with fondness, while the clones just stared blankly at her as she joked.

Wolffe looked dumbfounded as he spoke up for the first time. “So between the two of you, we haven’t got one fully functioning Jedi?” Issa quickly felt the weight of the table’s gaze which made her squirm with awkwardness. Just had to stick my foot in it, didn’t I?

“I suppose not. But I’ve never seen Plo lose his mask, and I always carry spare goggles on missions, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“No offence, sir, but that doesn’t fill me with much confidence.” Without another word, Commander Wolffe grabbed his tray with an unimpressed look and left the group, his sass having cut Issa, leaving her mouth hanging slightly agape as he exited the mess.

———

Wolffe entered his new quarters as the day drew to a close. His boots clanged against the durasteel flooring as he dropped down onto his firm bunk. His room was small, more akin to a closet, but it was neat and it was private, and privacy was something he never expected to have in his life. It was a blessing and a curse to have some space to himself. On the one hand he much preferred his own time and quiet, never one for much socialising, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wouldn’t miss the small sounds of his brothers just living around him: the snores, the laughter and the chatter. It was all he’d known for his entire life. It’ll take some getting used to.

The soldier took a moment to reflect on what would be the first day of the rest of his life. He’d finally been assigned his Jedi, and should he do his job right, they’d be the people he’d spend the war fighting alongside. General Plo Koon was one of the few Jedi he remembered from Geonosis, he didn’t fight alongside him directly, but a six foot Kel Dor on a battlefield stood out amongst the more common species within the Jedi Order. The general was mostly what he expected of a Jedi; reserved, wise and welcoming. He couldn’t put his finger on it but there was just something about the Kel Dor that put him at ease, as if a sense of knowing told him that his general would be someone he’d proudly fight alongside. Then there was the padawan, Straun. He found it interesting that while the young woman had been under the mentorship of the general for what must be years now, they were remarkably different people. She was clearly inexperienced, and cared far too much about what the men thought of her as a leader. She was quick to talk, which was a trait he didn’t favour in others usually, but she seemed to be trying at least. Wolffe supposed that her efforts were better than a removed leader who didn’t value the lives of his brothers. As commanders though, the two of them were very different, and it unnerved him that he wouldn’t really know her abilities as a leader until they were thrown into battle.

As he let out a long exhale, Wolffe’s gloved fingers unclipped his helmet from his belt and held it in his lap, the black visor staring back at him as he took in every sharp edge and line of paint across his bucket. The commander took a moment to think back on the battle of Geonosis. Those few months ago, he’d worn white plastoid armour, with only pips and yellow paint to signify his rank. Following the start of the war, the Alphas back on Kamino had taken Wolffe’s batch in and commended them on their efforts on the desert planet, for leading their brothers to their purpose to fight alongside the Jedi and defending the Republic. They’d taken them on for the new ARC training programme as an experiment and pushed them to their limits with a gruelling training regiment. There were points where Wolffe wondered if they’d make it, but in the end, all five of them survived and became the first ARC Commanders. A small smile made its way onto Wolffe’s face at the memory.

The five commanders stood in parade rest, Alpha-17 strolling in front of them, appraising his graduating students. Wolffe supposed they did look different from where they started. While the new training routine had brought out different strengths in all of them, they’d all gained more muscle mass and no longer looked as lean as the standard troopers.

“I’m pleased to announce you’ve all passed ARC training. You five are our first of many ARC Commanders. Congratulations.” 17’s face remained neutral, but underneath all the bravado, they all noticed the pride, burning like a roaring flame within him.

Wolffe held his own passive military expression, but chanced a glance at Fox next to him just as his ori’vod did the same to him. Their eyes met and the corners of their lips twitched ever so slightly. “We’ve actually done it.” the words were barely above a whisper as they fell from his lips.

The commander was brought out of his memories when his datapad began chiming next to him, the screen lighting up and pulling his attention to it.

-Command Chat Active-

Cody: so… everyone met their Jedi then?

Bly: yep

Wolffe: mhmm

Ponds: yeah!

Fox: funnily enough no I haven’t.

Cody: sarcasm just because you’re jealous Fox? It’s not a good look on you

Fox: mir’sheb

Cody: Love you too, foxy. Anyway, thoughts?

Ponds: Master Windu is awesome.

Cody: Bly, Wolffe?

Bly: … The General seems nice enough

Fox: But?

Bly: But what?

Ponds: you’re being suspenseful again Bly, just spit it out vod

Bly: Okay. But this goes nowhere as I’m trying to be a good Commander and all

Bly: but… WHY DOES MY GENERAL REFUSE TO WEAR ARMOUR. I’M GONNA GET RECONDITIONED WHEN SHE INEVITABLY GETS SHOT :’(

Fox: Well, seems this Jedi business isn’t all it’s cracked up to be

Wolffe: You want to talk about armour?! How about both my Jedi having major physical impairments?! One can’t breathe in most atmospheres and the other can’t kriffing see! They’re walking target practice for the clankers.

Cody: at least you haven’t got to deal with the Padawan from hell

Bly: don’t act like you’ll actually deal with him. We all know you’re gonna put that on Rex.

Cody: it’s called delegating, it’s what good commanders do ori’vod

Cody: at least General Kenobi seems sane enough.

Wolffe: I dunno, didn’t he teach the special one? His recklessness has to stem from someone

Ponds: *the chosen one

Wolffe: dork

Cody: … you make an excellent point

Fox: about the general or Ponds?

Cody: both

Ponds: :(

Cody: General Kenobi is going to turn out crazy isn’t he?

Ponds: they’re not called the disaster lineage for nothing

Cody: THEY’RE CALLED THE WHAT?!

Ponds: hmm maybe I shouldn’t have shared that

Bly: *gasp* Is General Windu a gossip?!

Ponds: I can neither confirm nor deny

Fox: Ponds got the best General. The rest of you are probably going to die. It was nice knowing you.

Cody: I’d tell him to Kriff off but he’s probably right

Wolffe: eh I’ll do it anyway. Kriff off shabuir

Fox: bite me ad’ika <3

—-Fox renamed the chat to CC’s Anonymous—-

Ponds: Seems appropriate

Back to TJ's Masterlist

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terephintik · 2 years

Text

Unbound(Illumixreader) chapter 5

You were sitting on the bed, leg crossed as Mito sat across you on the chair, hands crossed.

"How do you know Ging?"

"I've read about him in papers, haven't actually met him though."

Your slight outburst after hearing Freecss's name had resulted in this little interview session with Mito.

"How did you end up on this island?"

"I was sailing alone up north, but suddenly a storm hit and me being a rookie, couldn't handle it, so here I am."

You cooked up an excuse as fast as you can. You were grateful that normal population were devoid of the knowledge about nen, so she won't be able to pick up little disturbance in you aura.

If it was any other day you would have been able to control those tiny flecks, since you were out for a whole month, so it was a little hard to control your aura.

The questioning session was over after an hour as Mito was not able to sense anything suspicious.

"If you're hungry you can come downstairs, I am making lamp stew," she said getting up from her former sitting position. She was about to exit the room but halted suddenly, turning around. Your guard rose instinctively.

"Your belongings are in the bathroom, over there." She signed towards the direction and left.

You sighed to yourself as you stood up from the bed, legs wobbling a bit due to your former bedridden state.

The first action you commenced was to dash towards the bathroom. You rummaged through your newfound belonging as you checked the little items it held.

drive✓

files✓

10-metal tubes✓

Illumi's cell phone✗

An unfamiliar emotion started to erupt in your chest, as you further searched through your dirty piles of clothes but to no avail.

You looked around the bathroom for any clue regarding its whereabouts; you started to look around the room but halted as an idea hit you.

You started to disperse your aura, covering the entire house, to feel every corner of the house, every movement, and every shape.

But much to you despair, you sensed nothing except for the normal ambiance.

Mind blowing up with hundreds possibility as what could have happened to that piece of metal as you gathered up all the items, tucking them around your clothes.

You crouched over the ledge of the window, activating gyo. You scanned the scenery below for any traces of your aura, though the possibility was in minus, or perhaps any traces of the bear who earlier.

Picking up quite a few, you jumped down the window, activating zetsu and began following the trail down the forest.

Standing in front of a familiar scene, you got some hope. Repeating the same process, the one back at the resident you did a full-three sixty of the forest but to no avail.

The stars were shining brightly over the outstretched sea, making the water sparkle in its wake.

"Must've fallen into the sea," you said as you looked at the glittering water with disappointing eyes. It almost looked like the ocean was teasing you; bullying you as it took away the only thing you could call yours.

You sighed, defeated. You were about to turn on your heel but your attention was caught by the bubbles surfacing at irregular intervals.

Someone was drowning.

You dived without a moment's hesitation. Once activating en to get a better grasp of the situation, you sensed uneven waves and more bubbles emerging.

It was coming from the northeast direction. You wiped you head in that direction to be meeting with a familiar tuft of hair. It was Gon, Ging's son.

Pivoting your body in water, you swim to his aid. He was weighed down by a big boulder, against the steep wall of the cliff. He was struggling under the rock-big enough to wreck a large yacht.

He was the same boy who saved you from that bear, the revelation was shocking at first but when you got to sense his strong yet immature aura you came in term with his immense potential. He is Ging's kid after all.

Signaling him about your presence which seemed to calm him a little, you examined the placement of the boulder. You put your hands by your side, flat on the wall behind, your back in the same position-flat on the wall and your feet on the rock.

In one swift motion you emitted the aura from your feets, sending the rock swimming away.

Gon was about to lose consciousness due to lack of sir but you grabbed him by his arm, taking him to the surface.

As soon as his nostrils were met again with those familiar odorless smells, he coughed and gasped for air.

"What were you even doing?" you asked him as calmed down a little.

"I-I was f-fishing but the fist w-was too big for me to handle, so I fell t-trying to catch it, "he answered while steadying his breathing.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm fine now."

"Oh! And thank you!" he said enthusiastically.

"Umm...What is your name know?" he asked, his octave rising with every word. He had too much energy for someone who was dying a moment ago.

"Faye" you answered with the pet name given to you.

You could've used your newly discovered real name but decided against it because you wouldn't want Ging knowing it, what if Gon tells his father about you when he visits him.

You don't want that, you don't want him finding you this early at least.

The only reason you told Illumi was because of the fact that he saved you and you had a feeling that he won't tell anyone, though it was a risky wager, but you were willing to take it.

Something about him felt familiar to you, something from the past you don't remember, especially those pupil-less eyes. The first time you had made contact with his eyes, they seemed recognizable only for a split second, and they were hypnotic, almost felt like a magnet, pulling you towards him.

You wanted to stare into his eyes yet not. So you opted to avoid them altogether, you knew something would happen if it linger there for a few more seconds.

"Thank you, Faye-san!" Gon chimed in shifting your attention towards the boy you forgot was even there.

"Its fine, I was only returning the favor," mumbling the latter part to yourself.

"You should probably go home, it's dark, and "you continued looking at the stars.

"Won't you be coming with me? Mito-san is making lamb stew," he said cheerily, getting up.

"No I wo-Where'd you find that?" you said pointing at the object that had fallen from his pocket.

It was Illumi's cell phone.

"This?" he said whilst picking it up.

"When I fell into the water, I saw it stuck behind the rock. So, I went to grab it, I did manage to go it out but as you know I got stuck instead... Is it yours?" he explained quickly, bringing forward the device for you to see.

"Yes, I was looking for it all over, "you answered taking it in your hands.

"Alright then, I'll be going before Mito-san gets angry!" he informed you but you were too busy examining the device, to respond.

"Thank you, Gon" you said only to be replied by silence.

You lifted your head and saw him running towards his house. You smiled to yourself, he reminds you of the kids back at Aeiba Island.

Looking down, you fumbled with the device, trying to figure out it's working, how to contact Illumi, however it was busted.

#illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #hxh illumi #hxh fanfic

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complexgods · 2 years

Text

Lazy Sunday Sex with the Haikyuu Boys

Characters included: Bokuto, Asahi, Iwaizumi, Kenma

Warnings: Minors/Ageless blogs DNI, gn!reader, no pronouns used, unspecified genitalia, lazy sex, dry humping, this is the most vanilla thing I've ever written I think, go me /hj.

A/N: I wrote this as an exercise to get back into writing more like I used to, I hope it's okay! Also if you would like to see this with other characters from other shows, let me know!

Bokuto

Bokuto would be the kind to wake you up by humping your back or leg depending on how you sleep, setting the tone for the day from the very beginning.

He’d be the kind to keep you in bed all morning by lazily fucking you or being lazily fucked by you or both, just adoring your company more than anything, praising you and telling you over and over again how lucky he is to have you.

If this is your first day off together in a while, he will make sure to show you exactly how much he missed you by making you cum so hard you see stars <3. He definitely won’t stop until you’re both absolutely sated and spent, but he will order takeout for the two of you afterwards, moving to the couch after having whatever takeout your heart desired. It’s a calm atmosphere, domestic and familiar, and neither of you would trade it for the world.

–––––––

“Baby,” you wake up Bokuto, who has been humping your ass for the past minute, waking you up in the process. It wasn’t bothersome but you could feel how hard he was and you’d rather he cum in you or your mouth than on the fresh bedsheets. Sundays are days of rest, after all, not the time to do laundry and make the bed.

“Hmm? Oh- sorry,” he says sheepishly once he was conscious, his voice thick with sleep, rubbing his eyes as his grinding comes to a halt.

“It’s okay.” You smile, turning around to place a tender kiss on his lips. You pull back making a face, which he reciprocated. Morning breath.

“Want me to help you out?” You ask, knowing the answer before Bokuto can even give it.

You spit in your hand before gliding it down Bokuto’s body, grateful you both sleep naked, taking his heavy leaking cock into your hand.

“I’m so glad we have the day off.” You say, pumping his length slowly, smiling at the way he slowly thrusts into your hand.

“Me, too. Love you. Missed you this week,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, slightly nibbling it as he groans shamelessly, cumming into your hand. Well, at least the sheets weren’t ruined.

But, from the look in Bokuto’s eyes, you know it wouldn’t matter anyway.

Asahi

He likes taking his time with you no matter what, which is why when you have a day off, he will make sure he makes you cum on his mouth, his hands, his cock, whatever it is you need he will give it to you, so lazy sundays are the best time for him to really make you feel amazing.

He would probably initiate it in the early afternoon, spending the morning eating breakfast and reading together on the couch, like the old couple you are. But at some point in the afternoon, he makes sure to call you over to him in order to kiss you passionately, letting you know what you are in for. He loves drawing all those pretty sounds out of you, making your back arch and skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Definitely a passionate lover, and if the time allows it, lazy fucking is more than on the table. It’s his favourite way to take you completely apart.

––––––

“Come on, another round, please.” Asahi begs quietly, smiling at the way you thrust back against him.

Your back is flush against his as he lazily thrusts into your hole, the sound from his length dragging in and out of your walls absolutely lewd and so hot, you completely lose yourself int he feeling.

“Okay,” you sigh, not because you’re annoyed but because you’re feeling so good, it’s almost overwhelming. You lost count of how many times you’ve cum, and you don’t know if you can hold on much longer with the way Asahi’s cock is hitting that sensitive spot inside you with every other thrust.

“That’s my baby,” Asahi whispers, finding your nipples and tugging at them, making you groan lowly in response.

“Don’t hold back, let go, you deserve this.”

Iwaizumi

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again!!! He is the most passionate lover in the Haikyuu universe. He will have you however you desire, and will heed to all of your needs. You both work a lot, so getting a day off together is a blessing, and he makes sure to take good care of you. He wakes up before you, so he brings you breakfast to bed, and once you’re done, he gently spoons you as you scroll through your phone, his hand idly wandering across your body, eliciting goosebumps as those hands travel further south, making sure you’re okay with it before dipping a trained hand into your underwear, kissing your shoulder as he jerks you off, grinding his hardening cock against your ass. It’s not desperate, or forceful in any way. There’s some comfort to it somehow, familiarity and love that can only exist if you’ve established a good relationship which, thankfully, you and Iwaizumi definitely have. He pours everything he can’t say into his actions, just lazily fucking you until you come undone. He’ll also cook you lunch which you’ll eat watching a movie later.

–––––––

“What are you doing?” You ask with mock-suspicion at the way Iwaizumi’s hand was trailing across your sensitive spots he’s memorised ages ago.

At this point, you both knew you weren’t focusing on your phone anymore, closing your eyes as Iwaizumi drags his nails so tantilisingly across your skin.

“Mmh, feels good.” You murmur, now completely discarding your phone. In response, Iwaizumi kisses your shoulder, dipping his hand into your underwear, finding your already aroused sex, smirking against the skin of your back.

“I’m glad, baby. You deserve to feel good. So don’t hold back, I’ll make sure to take good care of you, okay?” He whispers as he starts stroking your sex in earnest, kissing your neck and nibbling at the soft skin.

Kenma

With Kenma it always depends on his mood. I think his libido is definitely insane and he loves desperately fucking you, no matter what, and he definitely likes it rough. However, after a long stream, on his day off, he’s just happy to spend the day with you wihtout having to use too much energy, eating ramen in front of the TV, watching a movie both of you have seen so many times you can recite it line for line. It’s a comfort thing, and you both cuddle on the couch, Kenma on top of you as you idly hold hands. But, when he starts kissing your neck and you feel his growing erection against your thigh, you can tell neither of you are going to focus on the movie anymore in a second.

––––––––

It’s not like you didn’t know the movie that was playing on the flatscreen TV of your apartment. In fact, it was both yours and Kenma’s favourite movie. However, it was hard to focus on whatever was going on when your boyfriend, was grinding against your crotch, kissng you absentmindedly, moaning against your lips.

“You taste like ramen.” He mentions, breaking the kiss for a second, smiling softly at you.

“So do you,” you reply, poking him in his side, which made him jolt slightly.

“Hey, no fair…” He murmurs, but ultimately returning to kissing you, his hands wandering under your shirt.

“Wanna turn off the tv and go to bed?” You ask quietly, but Kenma shakes his head.

“No, want you here,” he whispers softly, pulling down your boxers enough to expose your aroused sex to the cool air.

“Okay,” you respond, taking his cock into your hand. You loved lazy Sundays with your boyfriend.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #asahi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #kenma smut #kenma x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #felix thirsts #felix writes

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

I fucking love mlb!harry and ceo!harry

Ur so talented

Erm i had an idea (pls feel free to ignore, i know u hv a busy schedule and life outside of tumblr) but what if mlb!harry played badly in a game (or less than how he expected he wld perform) and y/n makes him feel better

Ceo!harry loses an important deal and y/n makes him feel better

CRAMP

i write for FREE - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. ($15+ is guaranteed blurb written for you).

if you liked - pleasure support me by reblogging, recommending, liking, commenting, and come talk to me about the fic!

warnings: smut; 18 +

YN knew it wasn’t going to be a fun time when Harry came home that night.

All four babies were fast asleep in their respective rooms and she was lounging on the couch, some cooking show on after she watched her husband play a rough game on ESPN.

He got hit with a fastball to his calf during the second inning and after that, his performance went downhill and he couldn’t get back on track.

He threw three homeruns and only made a few mediocre hits, trying to ignore the shooting pain in his lower leg.

In a typical Harry move, he refused to do the end of game handshakes with the opposing team and stormed off the field.

An interviewer chasing after him to ask him a question and Harry give her a dirty look before muttering, “Get away from me. I’m not answerin’ any questions,” before he disappears down the stairs.

YN knew just the thing that will cheer him up.

Harry trecks into the house with heavy feet and tense shoulders, his eyes are tired and frustrated as he drops his duffle on the ground carelessly.

“Hi,” YN murmurs when he steps into the living room, she was all curled up in a fluffy blanket with a surprise underneath.

“Hi,” He says back blandly, the frown unmoving from his face - almost like a pouty little kid.

“Can you come rub m’back?” She asks, feeling herself dampen a little bit with the excitement of what’s to come.

Harry scoffs, obviously in a sour mood, “I just finished a game, walked in the door, and tha’s the first thing I get is a demand?”

“Okay? And I just dealt with all four of your babies all day today. Ezra refused to be put down for more than five minutes straight,” She tries to bite down the smile, she shouldn’t find it funny when her husband’s bent out of shape.

That makes him melt a bit though, voice soften minutely, “Were the babies good today?”

“I’ll tell you about it after you rub my back.”

Harry grumbles, kicking off his trainers with a irritated edge, and heavy-footed as he makes his way to the couch.

“Take off the blanket and move on y’belly then,” He mutters, eyes boring into hers without reflecting the amusement that she has - if he was in a better mood he would have helped her along.

When she slips off the blanket and quickly moves on her stomach, burying her face in her arms when she hears him sucks in a breath.

“Wha’ are y’naked?” Harry demands, obviously trying to stay irritated because he deserved it for having such a shitty game.

YN makes sure her voice sounds airy and coy, “Just got hot is all.”

“S’fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” He rebukes but sits on the side of the couch with only a little room on the edge - his large hand coming to massage at her back muscles.

“Mmm,” She agrees noncommittally, feeling Harry’s hand wander curiously, further down her back to the lower curve before her bum.

“Y’trying to cheer m’up with sex,” Harry accuses, bent out of shape because he just wants to sulk in his poor performance but also he has the most beautiful woman in the world in front of him - bare and wet for him.

“I didn’t offer sex,” YN smirks, her husband falls into her to tricks every fucking time, no matter how much of bad mood he’s in.

Harry’s voice gets lower, more dangerous and gravely, “No? Just flashin’ y’ass at me for fun now? Decided for absolutely no reason to be waiting for m’to come home naked?”

“No reason at all,” She agrees, excitement building when his gentle massage turns rougher, hands kneading a little deeper into her muscles.

He shakes his head, eyes glued onto her backside where her cheeks are round and hiding what he really wants to see, “So if I dip m’fingers down between y’pretty thighs, your cunt won’t be soaking f’me?”

Harry’s skin prickles when his wife lets out a feathery, delicate moan at his words, he’s desperately trying to hold onto all of his negative feelings but he’s struggling because of the beauty that’s squirmy underneath him.

“Dry as the Sahara.”

It makes Harry finally break a little, letting out a belly laugh, and smacking her bum hard enough to make her squeak in delight.

His fingers travel down between her puffy folds, slipping into the heavenly heat of her where she is soaking his fingers.

In a filthy move, he pulls them back up and rubs them on his wife’s lips, “If y’not wet than what’s on y’lips, darlin’?”

Harry’s cock twitches when she lets out a quiet whine, pink tongue tracing her bottom lip before she laps at her husband’s thick fingers.

“Fuck,” He grunts, pressing down on her tongue,“Y’gonna let m’hit it from behind?”

When she can speak, she shakes her head, “No, want it on m’back.”

“Spoiled thing,” He murmurs, giving her one more smack before helping her flip back over, “Supposed t’be all about me, not you.”

YN’s eyes are sparkling, hand coming to tug lightly at his locks and pull him down into a kiss, her other hand wriggling his shorts down.

“All I had to do was take m’clothes off, didn’t even have to ask for it,” She giggles sweetly, teasingly, “Doesn’t matter what mood you’re in, always want to give it to me.”

“Best I’ve ever had, mama,” Harry replies against her lips, mumbled a bit as she grips him and leads him right to where she needs him most.

“Only one you ever had, only one you ever will have,” YN remarks confidently before throwing her head back when he bottoms out.

“Y’so fuckin’ hot when you’re possessive. You already know y’own me, darling. I bought you this big ole’ house, got four of m’babies sleepin’ upstairs, and got y’under me every night. I’m fucking yours. I have been since we met.”

“Harder, H,” She demands, nails digging into his strong shoulders as he fucks into her at a steady pace.

“Be quiet, let m’do it how I want,” He chides, keeping a slow but hard rhythm as he ducks down the suck at the hard peaks of her breasts before grazing them with his teeth.

“Do it how I want,” YN moans with an arrogant tone, it just drops with how confident she is that her husband is whipped for her. (He is).

But he’s already in a less than great mood so it has him flipping her, putting her onto all four as he wants, and slamming back in.

“We’re gonna do it ‘ow I want it,” He grunts in her ear, his hand gripping her cheek roughly enough to dimple and his other wrapping in her messy hair, “Y’absolutely soakin’ me, pet.”

“Oooh, fuck!” YN hisses but it doesn’t sound like a normal moan from her - Harry knows every sound his wife is able to make.

“Mama? Y’alright?” Harry checks, slowing down but not completely losing momentum as he loosens his grip on her hair.

“Cramp, I’m cramping. Want it on m’back,” YN whines, trying to shake out her leg and Harry obliges, helping her back down to their original position.

Again, Harry isn’t stupid.

As soon as she is back where she’s moaning lowly and with an airy hitch as she goes to pinch at one of her nipples.

“Y’such a spoiled brat,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’didnt have a leg cramp, y’just wanted to be a pillow princess.”

“Lies,” YN giggles, eyes bright and happy as she peers up at her husband who is looking down a her like she hung the fucking moon and stars.

No one would ever be able to convince him that she didn’t.

“M’the one who had the shit day. I’ve just spoiled you so fuckin’ rotten tha’ y’just a desperate slut,” He laughs meanly but it sends a full body zip of electricity through his wife and he knows it.

“Harry,” She chokes out, gripping his biceps hard.

“Hands to yourself,” He snaps, taking her hands and pinning them above her head with just one of his hands.

The other comes down and lands a smack right on her puffy folds, once..twice…three times before YN is coming on him.

“Easy f’me,” Harry hums with satisfaction, leaning down to kiss her moans quiet as he fucks in hard a handful on times before he’s filling her up, “There y’go, hm? Marking y’up as mine, all full of me.”

“Yeah, baby,” YN agrees dazed, dated as he comes to a halt as he softens and pulls out - wiping her down with his shirt as she whines, “Sensitive.”

“M’sorry, mama,” Her husband apologizes, trying to be careful around her nerves.

After, they lay on the couch - talking about their day until Briar’s monitor lights up from the side table with high pitched cries.

“Mama, mama, daddy,” The thirteen month old sobs as she sits up in her crib - unable to find her binky in the dark.

“I’ll go get the bub,” Harry offers, sitting up and tugging his briefs and shorts back on.

“Okay, she missed you a lot today. I’m going to go shower.”

When Harry steps into the room, Briar is looking expectantly at the door and her eyes widen when she spots her father.

“Daddy, dadada,” She babbles happily, standing up to clutch the railing of her crib with anticipation.

“Oh, there’s m’lil mama. Hi darling,” Harry coos softly, gathering her up into his arms and taking a step over to the rocking chair.

He pops her pacifier back between her lips and she looks up at him with heavy-lids, it doesn’t take long before her blinks get longer until her eyes shut close.

Harry doesn’t know what he did to deserve such an amazing life but he was sure fucking grateful.

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wanduhhh · 2 years

Text

We Can’t

Chapter 9: La Fleur

You and Wanda are… complicated. Cliché babysitter/ Mommy Wanda AU.

Sorry to keep you waiting 🥺. I am Much better at reading other people’s amazing fics than I am at forcing myself to write mediocre ones lol. But here you are 🤧

Warnings: cheating, angst, smut, cute moments that will make you pine for a fictional character x

Please don’t post my content without my consent.

Enjoy :).

——————————————

Your week was going by in a blissful haze. Spending every waking moment with Wanda was a dream you never anticipated before having kissed the woman for the first time. It was the domesticity you pined for, movie nights and breakfast in bed. You fell in love with Wanda in a whole new way. Sleepy morning kisses, the smell of burning pancakes and her frazzled hair as she tried to fan the smoke alarm. Everything about her was so endearing. You wanted this week to last a lifetime.

Wanda had been so grateful for all the help with the boys and just for, you. She had looked after you the whole week, telling you how in love with you she was; in every way except words. You ached to hear them fall from her lips as she kissed you, but you needed her to be yours first. So you settled for her tongue inside you, and her fingers scratching letters on your inner thighs.

Despite living in a dream state for the past week, it was hard to ignore the inevitability of Mr Maximoff’s return. It would hit you at unsuspecting moments of your day, and would instantly sour your mood. You had found yourself sat on the kitchen counter with a very persistent redhead peppering kisses all over your neck. Moaning freely into your ear as she began to unbutton your jeans, you were lost in the moment. Until the phone rang; and rang and rang. It seemed Wanda had prioritised putting her fingers inside you, over speaking to whoever was on the other end of the phone. You were panting against her ear with your head thudding back on the cabinets; when the answering machine beeped.

Hi darling just wanted to check in on you and the boys. It’s terribly boring without you, give me a call when you get this.

The sound of his voice mixed with the abrupt reality check forced your body to halt. You stiffened, pulling Wanda’s fingers from you by the wrist. She attempted to kiss you but you turned away, feeling so much all at once. “Bunny please” she pleaded with you, but when you met her eyes with tears in your own she was at a loss for words. “I can’t do it Wanda, it hurts. All I want is you, all of the time. I want to wake up beside you everyday and kiss you before we fall asleep together” you whispered all of this to her with tears straining your cheeks. You had lost count of the times this woman had made you cry. With a new found determination she grabbed your face in her hands, forcing your eyes to hers, “You have me baby, I promise I’m yours”. “You’re not though Wands, you can’t be mine when you’re already his”. You needed some space.

You found solace in the nursery with the boys. Laying on the floor with a baby on each side, you found yourself staring at the plastic glow in the dark stars dotted around their ceiling. You held their little hands with each of your pinkies and your heart felt like it was going to burst. You wanted this life with Wanda, and with the boys; but as time progressed you feared you were becoming an escape to the older woman. The thought made you sick to your stomach, and yet you didn’t even consider cutting your week with her short. You lay with the boys babbling on to them about anything that came to mind, listening to them mumble indistinguishable noises in response. Wanda found you there, tip toeing over to the door as she heard your ranting “and your mommy isn’t just good at cooking, she’s great. When you start to eat solid food you’ll learn all about it” she was besotted.

Silently you helped Wanda put the boys down for bed, anticipating the talk you were obliged to have. You felt like you had to protect your heart somehow, but it was too late for that when it was firmly in Wanda’s grasp. You just had to hope she wouldn’t crush it. She led you by the hand to sit at the bottom of her bed; turning her body to face you and taking both of your hands in hers. “Y/n I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I have dragged you into. I’m sorry for making you fall in love with me for-“ “Wanda no-“ you attempted to stop her but she continued “please let me finish. If I don’t get this out I’m going to explode” she chuckled with tears glistening in her green eyes. Squeezing your hands before she continued, “I’m sorry y/n, but I don’t regret any of it” your sharp intake of breath had her snapping her eyes to yours. “What I am sorry for is for saying I love you, and I know I know- you didn’t want to hear it until I was yours. But I am yours already, I’ve been yours since the first time you kissed me. I love you I lo-“ you cut her off with a bruising kiss, your tears mixing with hers. Breaking the kiss to giggle together you lay side by side whispering ‘I love you’ to each other over and over, til your cheeks ached from smiling.

When you woke up tangled in Wanda’s arms with her red hair covering your eyes, you smiled instantaneously. Suddenly the worry about what would happen after your last 2 Vision-free days were up had dissipated; too in love to consider. You didn’t think it was possible to feel anything more for the woman than you already did, but hearing her mutter those words to you had you ready to propose (after her divorce). You kissed her sleepy face over and over until she scrunched her nose at you, her face breaking into a smile. “Morning baby” she mumbled into your ear, “I love you” was your reply; just incase she had forgotten throughout the night. She giggled into your ear as she whispered it back. Judging by the lack of crying you had a small window of time with the woman before the babies woke up to demand attention. You of course used this time to kiss every inch of her skin. When you slipped your fingers inside her she moaned out, gasping something about the strap. “What was that hmm” you teased her, “fuck baby- please I want you to fill me” your breath was sucked out of your lungs just imagining taking her in that way. “I want that too mommy, so much. But I want you to come on my fingers first” you smirked at the moan that your words sparked. Giving you the motivation to up your pace, using the palm of your hand to rub against her clit with every thrust of your fingers. With her thighs bracketing your waist, you felt so deep inside her. Hitting exactly where she needed with every thrust, it wasn’t long until she was panting through her orgasm. As soon as you pulled out, she frantically grabbed at you. Trying to rip your top and underwear off at the same time, panting against your lips. Moaning in your ear about how she couldn’t wait to ride you, pushing you off the bed to grab the strap. Just as you pulled open the closet door, the sound of crying broke through the lustful haze. “Ughhhhh” she groaned as she flopped her head back onto her pillow. You just giggled and promised her “later”.

Although the sexual frustration threatened to take you whole, you were determined to make the most of your day with Wanda and the boys. Helping to feed and dress them then taking turns each to get dressed you were all ready to go out for the day. You had yearned to walk around in the sun with Wanda, seeing her bask in it stopping every few steps to excitedly examine yet another flower. You would make sure she had every flower forever just to see her eyes light up. You lazily strolled around parks, talking about everything and nothing. Eating ice-cream cones and giggling at each other when Wanda accidentally dipped her nose into her cone. Instead of making you pine for this time together more often, you felt excited at the prospect of this being your future. Simple days beside the woman you had fallen so deep in love with. The possibility seemed more tangible than ever. There would be real life changing consequences of this all, but the fear that you and Wanda wouldn’t make it had melted away each time she told you she loved you. You believed her so wholeheartedly. With the day moving on and the boys becoming grouchy, you both stalked back to Wanda’s home. Eagerly thinking of what later would entail but excited just to be together nonetheless.

#wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #fanfiction #mommy wanda #wanda mcu #fanfics #mcu fic #wanda smut #anons #we can’t

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angstama · 3 years

Text

fire | 02

pairing: wakasa imaushi x reader

genre: angst

warnings: none!

✧. in which you were tired of setting yourself on fire just to warm wakasa imaushi.

[01] | [02] | [03]

a/n: i'm finally done with part 2! actually can't decide if i wanna leave it at that or have a part 3 ;-;

walking away from wakasa imaushi was one of the hardest things you had done in this life.

you knew that there were no such thing as forever but never had you imagined that wakasa wouldn't be a part of your life for the remaining left of it.

after all, he was always the one who often reminded you that he'd be there for you always.

nonetheless, you were grateful for the beautiful white lies that gave you the temporary bliss you missed very much.

"noo! how could she go for him?" you whined dramatically, slamming the shoujo manga in your hand down on the wooden tiled floor as you shut your eyes tightly in frustration from the aggravating scene that unfolded before you the more you scanned across the panels.

it's always the bad boys. you mentally huffed before letting out a sigh of disappointment. it’s starting to hit a little too close to home.

you tightly hugged on to the medium sized cream coloured leopard soft toy that wakasa had gave you on one random night, the familiar lingering smell of lavender trailing into your senses as you snuggled it closer to your chest.

"here." wakasa cooly tossed you what seemed like a chibi version of a leopard into your lap before gently pushing your body forward and settling down behind you and pulling your back close to lean on his chest.

"what's this?" you turned to look at him, confusion clear in your gaze when you raised the soft toy to take a better look at it. "well i can't always be here to let you hug my arm whenever you're reading your mangas," he scratches the back of his head, suddenly turning away to look at everywhere else but your glowing eyes. "i figured mr leopard here can keep you company." he mumbles, fingers gently combing through strands of your hair in a attempt to distract you from noticing the shade of red creeping onto his cheeks.

your lips parted in surprise, you could feel the corner of your lips tugging upwards at wakasa's attempt in masking his embarrassment but more at the thought of wakasa's thoughtfulness. does this mean that you often cross his mind?

you don't know what came over you when you allowed yourself to sit up and turning your entire body to face wakasa. you carefully climbed on top of his lap, leaving the soft toy in the spot that you were previously on as wakasa's gaze trailed on you while you adjusted yourself to rest comfortably on him.

"thank you waka," you smiled endearingly, resting your forehead against his as you felt his warm hand slowly creeping onto the sides of your waist. "i love it very much." you looked at once more before leaning down kiss him gently, only deepening the kiss even more when he pushes the back of your head down to feel you closer.

how could you have known?

how could you have known that wakasa imaushi never felt the same way as you did for him when all he ever did was prove to you how in love he is with you?

the running thoughts in your head came to a halt immediately when the blaring loud ring tone of your phone echoed through your living room, scaring you in the process of it.

an unknown number.

rubbing your temples tiredly, you decided to pick up the phone call.

"hello?" you greeted politely, letting your headphone to rest on your shoulder as you begun to gather the piles of manga spread around you.

silence.

"hello? is anyone there?"

you glanced over to the wall clock hanging above your television when the person on the other line doesn't respond again, realising that it was already almost midnight.

"if nobody's there, i'm hanging up yeah?" you sighed, mentally cursing at how prank callers these days are really taking it too far. you were just about to press the circular red button on the digital screen when a familiar voice echoed through your ears.

"how are you?"

your body froze upon hearing the one voice that you missed so much. the very voice that you come to familiarise yourself as the embodiment of happiness and comfort in your life. the voice that you never thought you'd ever hear again.

"i-imaushi?" you croaked, voice hoarse from the dryness in your throat upon just hearing those three words.

"it's always waka for you." he whispered softly, back leaning against the light pole as he rests his forehead against the payphone, hoping that you'll just hang up on him for being a selfish coward for calling you after tearing you into pieces and wishing that you'd offer him to come round so that he could see your pretty face.

" i don't have the right to call you that anymore imaushi."

wakasa shook his head desperately as if you could see him from the other line, "you'll always have the right love."

you winced at the use of pet name he used to call you whenever the two of you were together. you've always thought that it was wakasa's way of expressing his fondness for you.

if this was a movie, you were pretty sure this scene would be where the entire world would slowly fade away and eventually come to a stop leaving just the two of you in two different places on the map with a phone in your hands, having so much to say to each other but also not being able to say anything.

but this wasn't a movie.

and you and wakasa aren't the main characters.

the two of you will never be.

damn, being loyal for nothing really hits hard.

"but i don't want that right imaushi." you bit your lips, tilting your head back in hopes to push the angry tears in your eyes back to honour the promise you had made to yourself that you'd not cry over wakasa imaushi anymore.

that you deserve so much more.

someone a thousand times better than wakasa imaushi.

someone that would be willing to share the warmth with you so that you'll never feel cold ever again.

" so stop leading me into this temporary bliss of fake love and then letting me down as if i'm not deserving of being loved." you said, voice trembling.

"it wasn't fake! i've always loved you!" wakasa breathed heavily as he took a swing on the light pole, bruising his knuckles at the thought of you believing that the last seven years had meant nothing to him.

he was afraid.

because deep down he knew that you deserved to be with someone who isn't just a mere delinquent playing fist to fist everyday.

he knew that you deserved so much more but he doesn't want to let you go for you were the best thing that ever walked into his life.

so when the thought of you possibly leaving him for good crosses his mind, wakasa got scared.

"so why can't you just be mine?"

"because i was afraid that you'd break my heart, so i broke yours first instead."

//end.

@sasusaku0-0 @rinrinfoxy @hikkarins here's part 2! :")

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Text

Marinette was officially done with Hawk Moth interfering in her life. She could take him interrupting school, or her time out with friends (which had become increasingly awkward as of late anyway), or even her moments of being bogged down with projects.

But interrupting her one-on-one time with Luka? First their movie date and now their moment of getting ice cream together? Absolutely not.

As far as she was concerned, this meant war. If Hawk Moth wanted to shove himself into her life like a nosy busybody who couldn’t go five seconds without trying to take away her means of happiness, then fine.

Two could play at that game, and she was feeling petty enough to make the next move. She’d had to mull over the subject for a while to figure anything out, not to stop him for good exactly, but at least put an annoying dent in his plans, much like he always did with her.

She had an idea by evening, and got to put it into action right after school. She was saying good-bye to a few of her friends, and had hopped onto the back of Luka’s bike afterwards, her hands carefully on his waist while he rode off along the sidewalk.

A flicker of black and purple caught her eye, and instead of the usual dread or panic, she grinned to herself.

“Luka! Stop!”

He stiffened, but obeyed, putting full force on the brakes and screeching the bike to a sudden halt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in concern.

Hurriedly getting off the bike, she took off her helmet and handed it to him. “I’m sorry, will you wait here for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back!”

Knowing she had to be quick, she didn’t wait for him to reply. She placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to place a long, meaningful kiss on his cheek.

If he had prepared a reply, the kiss stopped it, and she ran off to the nearest hiding place while he stared blankly ahead at nothing.

After ducking into an alley and taking a quick look around to ensure it was safe, Marinette opened her purse to let out Tikki, as well with the other kwami necessary for her plans: Kaalki.

“Let’s do this!”

— — — — —

Soon after Pegabug had entered the scene, giving chase to the akuma, Chat Noir wasn’t far behind. Part of her questioned how he’d gotten there so soon, but she squashed the thought just as quickly as it’d come so as to not dwell on the potential identity questions.

“Love the new look, m’lady. What’s the occasion?” he asked in his usual flirtatious tone. “Or did you dress up just for me?”

“Not now, Chat,” she replied shortly, adjusting her sunglasses as she neared the butterfly in question. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course! Anything.”

“When I give the command, grab the akuma.”

“I—” He blanked. “Grab it?”

“I’ll explain later,” she assured. Squinting at the butterfly, which seemed to be on a straight path, she felt the moment hit like the epiphany of her Lucky Charm. “Now!”

Slightly panicked, but not asking anything more, Chat Noir sped forward. He dropped to all fours to pick up speed, then leapt for the butterfly. In a swift motion, he trapped the akuma between his hands, and Pegabug reeled her hand back as she felt the charge of her power.

“Voyage!”

The portal launched from her hands, manifesting right in front of Chat Noir. He went through and she followed behind him.

On the side of the portal, she landed politely on her feet while he crashed onto the floor, though he managed to keep the akuma contained in his hands.

A startled Wang Cheng stood up from his chair, looking between the two in surprise, but he calmed himself soon after. “It is time?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, walking over and helping Chat up due to his inability to use his hands.

He shook himself of the impact, then glanced at Wang, Pegabug, and finally the night sky out the window. “M’lady, if he means time to explain why you catapulted us to China, then I’m all ears.” His fake cat ears twitched in emphasis.

“Not exactly, but we can do that too,” she assured. Closing her eyes, she whispered a quick, “Kaalki, divide,” to allow the horse part of her transformation to drop. Pulling out her yoyo to grab a treat, she offered it to Kaalki to let her recharge before addressing the issue properly.

“Chat, you remember Wang,” she stated, walking alongside Wang as they traversed the rooms of the house. Hearing Chat’s footsteps behind her, she continued, “We saved him after he was akumatized into Kung Food.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Chat confirmed, still just as puzzled as before.

“Well, he’s the only one I know who’s out of the country.” She grinned slyly. “And out of Hawk Moth’s radius.”

Chat tilted his head. “Radius?”

Ladybug waited to answer until she saw the little habitat that had been set up, exactly as she’d asked for. Wang opened it for her and stepped aside, then gestured to it, which gave Chat enough of a hint to approach and outstretch his arms so they were inside the mini enclosure.

He hesitated, but released the akuma and recoiled quick enough for Ladybug to snap the habitat shut, thus sealing the butterfly inside.

“The butterfly miraculous has limits,” she explained, pointing to the trapped akuma, “and this is one of them. Hawk Moth can’t sense or do anything with this akuma from this distance, and he’s only allowed one at a time.”

“Meaning...?”

“Meaning that he can’t make another until this one breathes its last breath.” She tossed a grateful smile Wang’s way. “So please take good care of it, sir.”

Wang bowed his head in respect. Chat, meanwhile, was gaping.

“Wait, so that means—?”

“It might not be long,” she admitted, “because we don’t know how old this butterfly is, but—” She raised a finger as she made her point. “—as long as it lives and kept in that habitat, he can’t akumatize anyone.”

With a confident walk, she made her way back to the room they’d originally come from.

Chat, still in a state of shock, followed after and kept pace with her. “What about sentimonsters?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Mayura can still send them if she wants, but it’ll go just as badly.”

“Why?”

“For one, sentimonsters follow the orders of the one with the object, and no akuma means that Hawk Moth doesn’t have any control. For two, if I can teleport the feather away before Mayura can de-power it herself, then she’s stuck with no sentimonster for even longer than the akuma. Feathers take a few months to wear out, and I think they know that. Once they realize the risks, I don’t think we’ll be seeing any sentimonsters all by themselves.”

Stopping at the spot where she’d made the portal originally, she tossed a smile Kaalki’s way and outstretched her hands accordingly, calling upon her transformation once again with, “Tikki, Kaalki, unify!”

Chat didn’t even flinch at the flash of light, staring at the floor instead as he scratched his head. “But—uh—” He paused, needing a moment to come up with more questions. “what if Mayura makes her own sentimonster again?”

“Then I’m sending it to the moon,” she answered nonchalantly. “If they want to waste my time like this, then I’m not messing around anymore. Either they come fight me themselves or I’m keeping every akuma and feather I can here, where they can’t do anything with them.”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to throw out another argument, but she’s stumped him. His lips pursed as he seemed deep in thought, which evolved into a pout as he asked, “So, I guess we won’t be spending as much time together?”

“What?” Pegabug raised a brow, thrown off by that being his concern.

“A-ah—” He seemed to catch himself, waving his hands in defense. “Nothing, m’lady! You’re a genius, as always, and we still have patrols!”

“...Thanks,” she said neutrally, her mind on anything but him even as he tried to flirt.

After all, there was someone waiting for her back in Paris.

— — — — —

“Luka!”

Marinette beamed in both gratefulness and relief as she saw Luka still in the same spot as before, and even in the same position as well. She ran up to him, grabbing his shoulder again with one hand while she took her helmet back with the other.

She kissed his cheek again, a little more lightly than before but with just as much affection. The contact seemed to bring him back to life, his smile returning to his face as he settled his hands back on the bike’s handles.

“Did everything work out alright?” he asked.

“Mhm. I was just—” She paused, a lie almost reflexively coming out of her mouth before she settled on the closest thing to the truth she could, deciding that he deserved as much. “—taking care of something. Hopefully it works out.”

“Knowing you, I bet it will,” he assured with a fond look.

She beamed at him and put her helmet back on, settling herself behind him on his bike so her hands could rest on his waist again. She heard the ‘clink’ of the kickstand as Luka nudged it up with his heel, and then they were off again.

Happy thoughts of Hawk Moth screaming in his lair as he discovered her plan slowly transitioned into blissful imaginings of all the uninterrupted dates she could go on now. Out of sight, out of mind, just as Hawk Moth deserved to be.

#MC's Writing #writing: story #category: trash #episode: Truth #((A theory I've had on akuma following the trend of ''Startrain''))#((Pettinette still lives on.))#((And in other news Shadow Moth can go shove it.))#Lukanette #Pro LukaMari #((by the way))#((I know he's Shadow Moth now but that doesn't get revealed to them until Truth (the akuma; not the episode) happens.))#((So he's referred to as ''Hawk Moth.''))#((and Ladybug and Chat think that Mayura is still a thing.))#((I had a few alternate paths for this but this seemed like the most fun.))#((AND I got to give Marinette's great-uncle an actual ROLE!))

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itamiiscribble · 2 years

Text

Tobirama Senju X Uchiha Reader [M/F]

Title: | Lover's Death |

Chapter 7: "Development"

"SUMMARY":

The trembling in your body worsens when the realization of your situation fully hits you.

It's over. No one is coming to your aid in a place as neglected as this. You don't have the strength to fight anymore. You didn't have the strength to begin with, but at least you tried. You close your eyes, not wanting to see the ugly creature in front of you anymore.

You thought the moment death is on your door you would see your whole life playing in front of your eyes. The good times that made it worth living in a cursed world like this.

But the only thing you see is 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

Tobirama.

_______________________________________

Chapter 7:

"Akari!"

Calling out to your friend you keep on running. She turns around to regard you with so much relief it almost makes you break in tears.

You are a horrible friend.

Throughout the whole day not 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 did you think about her well being. Selfishly you thought about yourself, about a boy in the woods you barely know.... and Tobirama...

Akari was the one in the battlefield, the one who was in danger. Truth to be told, she is an amazing Shinobi, stronger than most of the men in your clan. But regardless, she was in danger and not once did you think about her.

You truly are a horrible friend.

She is standing in the middle of the village, people are standing or walking around you, most of them are giving you side glances but it doesn't matter, the only person that matters right now is your friend.

Finally catching up to your best friend you jump into her opening arms.

"Akari... I'm so sorry... ", you whisper near her ear, tightening your hug.

"You should be! I was so worried!", she exclaims out loud, slowly withdrawing from your hug to look you into the face. Her brows are furrowed.

Holding onto her hands you squeeze them slightly.

"We have been searching for you! Where have you been?" She presses your hands back and watches you intensely, waiting for an answer.

You let out a relieved sigh and give her a slight smile. You are so relieved to see her doing fine. She has not a single wound. Akari is truly a strong Shinobi.

You are about to answer her question when you realize what she had said.

𝘞𝘦...?

Who-

"(Y/N)!"

You jolt slightly at the loud voice calling out your name. Looking to your right you see Izuna running towards you. His expression is the same as your friend; relief is marking his features.

"Izuna was helping me. We searched together."

Looking back at your friend, you see a faint smile on her face. Before you can say anything, she takes your face into her hands and gives you an intense stare.

"We will talk about this later.", she says sternly.

You nod slightly with a little smile appearing on your features. You are grateful that she immediately understands that you don't want to talk about your recent whereabouts in front of the clan leaders youngest son.

The moment her hands slowly slide down to your own, Izuna comes to a halt a few feets away from you. He seems out of breathe, his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

You don't know how to react to the fact that he took his free time after an exhausting battle to search for you. Still feeling a little distant towards him you don't say anything. You wouldn't even know what to say.

And for a short while no one says a single word, you are looking at Izuna, Izuna is glancing between you and Akari.

Rolling her eyes at the current tension, Akari is the first one to speak up.

"Alright, i better let you guys talk." Not waiting for an answer from any of you she grabs your face again and gives you instructions to meet up with her later. You smile fondly at her, assuring her that you will do so.

Watching her leave you let out a quiet sigh in relief. You are just immensely facilitated that your friend is healthy and doesn't seem to have a single wound on her body.

Your eyes flicker back to Izuna, he seems to be waiting to get your full attention.

"I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now... " he starts, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

It's not that you don't want to, you are just worn-out from everything that occurred today. You doubt you have enough energy left to have another emotionally exhausting conversation.

"But i need to show you something."

The awkwardness in his voice disappears and urgency takes it's place.

You look up at him with a frown, seeing his ebony orbs having shifted from nervous to determined.

You couldn't decline even if you wanted to, knowing that he took his time helping in searching for you. It's obvious that he was worried about you.

Izuna did nothing wrong on the battlefield, you know that. The dark haired boy is one of the few people who ever showed you sincere kindness. In avoiding him you would just punish yourself with letting go of someone who genuinely cares about you.

And maybe that's what you wanted, punishing yourself for the fact that you couldn't save Yui...

Blinking a few times you push these thoughts to the back of your mind, concentrating on the person in front of you.

Izuna is searching your eyes, waiting for an answer. You give him a nod, signaling that you will go with him.

The way his eyes shine at your answer and the relieved smile appearing on his face is like a punch right into your gut. You need to stop treating him wrongly for your own selfish reasons.

He lifts his hand slightly but immediately let's it sink again. Not understanding what his intention was you just tilt your head slightly, waiting for him to show you whatever he so desperately wants you to see.

"Follow me." he says in a quiet tone and turns around, walking towards a place unknown to you.

You do as he says, avoiding to look at the still present people around you.

___________________________________________

When Izuna comes to a halt on the top of a small hill near his home you expectantly look at him a few meters away, waiting. But when he turns around to glance at you, he signals you to come closer. Obeying, you walk up the last few steps and upon arriving your eyes widen in surprise.

Down the hill in between the grassland, there a countless stones laying in perfect symmetry. Various flowers decorate the moss covered stones all around. The scenery looks even more mesmerizing thanks to the torches lit around the whole place. You are about to comment on the beautiful picture in front of you when something catches your eyes.

A fee stones without any flowers around them, looking like they've just been placed there. Upon further inspection you realize something is carved onto them.

Without thinking you walk towards the stones.

The moment you read the freshly carved words into one of them you fall onto your knees. Placing your hands onto your mouth you try to stifle your cry.

Yui Uchiha.

Your vision gets blurry and it's hard to hold back your tears. Blinking a few times to clear your sight you see Izuna crouching in front of you, giving you an understanding look. Reading the questions in your eyes he starts talking.

"I couldn't retrieve her body for you... " he gives you an apologetic look, obviously still feeling miserable of the fact.

"But at least I wanted to give you a grave of hers."

And you can't hold back the tears anymore.

Touching the freshly carved words on the stone you let out a chocked cry. And everything comes back to your mind; the picture of her crying over her lost loved one, her laying on the ground, deathly injured.

Her, losing the light in her eyes the moment her soul departed from this world.

Weeping in silence you don't see the way Izuna struggles with the current sight of you. Brows furrowed his mouth is pressed into a thin line.

And the moment he pushes the hair fallen onto your face behind your ears you look up at him.

"Is this all your doing?" you ask him when you trust your voice again.

"Yeah... ", he answers slowly and turns around to look at the field full of gravestones.

"It just doesn't feel right when the people left behind don't get a decent memorial." His eyes wander on the various looking stones and you do the same.

You are aware of the fact that only the bodies which were able to be retrieved from the battlefield get an official grave. The ones left behind are either forgotten or the left family members build a memorial inside of their home.

It is a cruel procedure. As if the people who's bodies were left behind didn't protect the clan. As if their efforts were nothing.

As if they didn't matter.

The world of Shinobi is cruel and this is only a small part of it.

But even in the cruelest world there is a glimpse of hope when there are people like Izuna in it.

You look back at him again, a cold breeze is brushing away the hair from his face.

A sudden feeling of gratitude fills your body and you take his right hand into both of your own. The gesture makes the dark haired boy look down and immediately back up to your eyes again.

The torches lights are reflecting on those deep ebony orbs of his and you can't hold back the smile appearing on your face when you see his surprised expression.

"Thank you, Izuna." The tears stopped flowing down your face for a while now.

"For everything."

Not realizing the effect your smile has on him, he glances to the side, a little flustered.

"There is nothing to thank for." he then starts explaining himself. "I wish i could've done more."

"You've done more than enough. I really appreciate it." you add, squeezing his hand again lightly.

And suddenly a thought appears on your mind.

Why

𝘞𝘩𝘺 is the clan leaders youngest son so nice and kind to you. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 of all people. The daughter of a miserable father who's Shinobi skills weren't good enough to keep him alive long enough on the battlefield. The sister of the so called traitor. The daughter of a mother who apparently never truly cared for her.

Why care and do so much for you.

"Why, what?"

You didn't realize you asked the question out loud when Izuna is watching you with slightly raised brows. Immediately your eyes wander down and upon doing so, you realize you are still holding onto his hand.

Feeling your cheeks burn at the realization, you slowly let go of his hand.

Looking back up again you know you have to be honest. Pondering about this question on your own would lead you no where. You want to know the answer.

"Why are you so nice to me?" you start warily.

"Why show kindness towards the sister of a traitor?"

At that the dark haired boy looks a little taken aback, not expecting this kind of a question. His expression changes quickly though, a seriousness marks his face.

"You did nothing wrong."

A simple answer. A wise answer, if it could be concluded that he thinks your brother was never a true traitor.

But you don't want to ask more into the subject regarding that. What happened to your brother is a scar still too fresh in your heart. You hardly ever talk about it with your best friend.

And as if to ease the tension in the air Izuna gives you a crooked grin.

"Besides, I like your spirit."

And you can't hold back the little chuckle leaving your lips at that.

The rest of the evening Izuna helps you gather different flowers to decorate the new gravestones on the field. The two of you don't converse in the meantime, but it is rather a pleasant silence, for the both of you.

On your way back home he intends on accompanying you, but you assure him that you will be fine. He doesn't press any further and departs with a slight bow and a genuine smile on his face, which you mirror.

On your way back home, you realize something changed between the two of you. The feeling isn't akin to the feeling of a friendship yet but nevertheless, the two of you created a bond. And you are grateful for that. The more you have people around you, the less you feel lonely. Not that loneliness ever bothered you, but it is still good to know that there are people you can rely on.

Even if it is the son of the man who ordered your brothers execution.

______________________________________________

Early in the morning before the sun comes up the first assignment on your list is to visit the medical center and assist Hiroshi sensei in various tasks.

You help the wounded, changing bandages, changing and cleaning the blood soaked linens, mixing medical herbs for the wounded, feeding those who are not able to do so alone and various other tasks. Luckily, if you could call it that, there aren't much seriously injured Shinobi's.

When the sun shines at it's highest point Hiroshi sensei tells you to take a rest for a while. At first you decline it, but the stern eyes behind those big glasses urge you to listen to him and you sigh in defeat.

Passing the wounded on your way out of the medical center an idea forms in your mind. It is a rather foolish one, at least that's what 𝘩𝘦 would call you when he knew your plan on visiting the forbidden place yet again.

That thought makes you chuckle and you increase the speed of your steps.

_______________________________________________

And here you are, deep in the forbidden woods, yet again. But the thought that you are here because of a good reason reassures the thought that keeps on yelling at you for being so foolish.

Quietly you stride between bushes, searching for the subject that has led you here. After a while you get frustrated and start cursing your own mind for never memorizing the spot where the desired entity grows.

But you refuse to give up on searching, you won't allow your time to go to waste.

And that's when you hear it.

A stirring of leaves, right behind you.

Eyes widening a sudden panic floods your whole body.

It seems your ability at sensing chakra and keeping your own to a minimum wasn't as good as you thought. Because you absolutely sensed nothing at all. You know it's not a good idea to turn around but you do it regardless, your fear strucken mind not allowing you to think straight.

The moment your wide eyes land on the source of the sound, you wish you would've just fled.

Two massive build men are standing not three meters away from you. One of them has a long white beard on his wrinkled face, giving you a bored expression. The other one seems a little younger, hair as black as a ravens he looks you up and down and suddenly a sickening yellow teethed smile appears on his face.

"And 𝘺𝘰𝘶 said we wouldn't find anything." the dark haired man adresses the other. The bearded man let's out a grunt in response, seemingly bored with the found in front of him. And the hopes that maybe they weren't your enemies, that they were just wandering in the forest just like you do sometimes shatter in your mind.

You don't dare to move, you hardly dare to blink in front of these unknown men not knowing what they would do to you. Not even your basic skills at fighting could save you if they decided to attack you together. Not even the single Kunai in your bag would be enough to defend yourself.

So you think, think as hard as you can. What could you possibly do to save yourself from a situation like this?

The answer is floating already in your mind but you refuse to listen to it.

The answer that you have not a single chance to win against two massive build men.

Licking your lips nervously you make quick glances to your surroundings, searching for anything that could be of help; a path to flee, something you could use as a second weapon, anything.

"I can see that pretty mind of yours working..." sing-songs the black haired man in a taunting tone.

"Stop fooling around, Botan." ,the older one snaps angrily. "We don't have time for this shit. Search her for valuables and let's leave this fucking place."

The man called Botan gives you a fake pity smile and gestures with his hands as if saying; 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴.

"I-i have nothing that's valuable on me!" you yell hurriedly, hating yourself for the miserable tone in your voice.

Botan doesn't even seem like he listened, he takes a step towards you and instantly you take one back. At that he clicks his tongue, obviously disappointed in your reaction but the playfulness doesn't leave his features.

Not allowing the man to take another step you swiftly take out the Kunai from the bag attached to your waistband. Pointing it towards the man you fake confidence despite the fact that the weapon is shaking in your trembling hand.

"Look, Look! What's with her eyes?!"

Botan shrieks hysterically and points a finger at you, signaling his friend behind him to take a look.

Watching his reaction you immediately conclude that your Sharingan has come out, unconsciously. Never being trained to control the power of your eyes, you can't control the awakening of the Sharingan. Only in emotionally and physically draining situations it comes out to light, in your case at least.

And suddenly there is hope building up your body, maybe your Sharingan will scare them off, maybe they heard of the terrifying power in your clan and won't attack blindly.

That hope also starts crumbling when the older man takes a good look at you and immediately draws his sword.

"She must be a member of one of the clans with the alien powers!" he hisses and narrows his eyes, ready to attack the moment you make a move.

"So you 𝘥𝘰 have something of value on you?" The younger one points out, the yellow teethed smile reappearing on his features.

The Sharingan, one of the most powerful weapons that could easily give you the upper hand against both of these men has turned into your ruin that aggravated your situation tenfold.

The irony.

Now that both of the man are alarmed, you see no others choice than fleeing as fast as you can.

Swallowing hard you force your body to move and without giving the men the chance to take another step towards you you swiftly turn around and run like you never did before.

Ignoring the leaves hitting you all over your body you solely concentrate on your feet to keep on running.

They are chasing you, as expected but you force your mind not to give in to the fear the man are causing you.

But you should've known better than hoping to out run these massive build men.

Everything happens so fast you don't see the moment a Kunai attached to a rope is wrapping around your right feet, making you stumble down hard to the forest ground. Pain shoots up your shoulder from the hard impact and you open your mouth in a silent scream. But you can't allow the pain to distract you, so you quickly stand up. You take the Kunai you have been holding on to tightly and move to cut the rope that's wrapped around your feet.

But you don't get to do so, in an instant someone kicks at your hand, making the Kunai fly. Hissing in pain you try to get up but the person standing above you takes both of your hands and pins them down to the ground above your head. Sitting on top of you now the person clenches his knees on each side of your waist, making you unable to move the upper part of your body.

"Let go!" You shriek in panic, kicking around with your feets as much as you can, trying to free yourself in a desperate attempt.

"Now, now. Don't be like 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 pretty little thing." The man named Botan breathes against your face, that disgusting smile ever lasting on his features.

"I 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 I'll make it quick." he purrs, licking his lips in anticipation. "It's a shame that i have to ruin such a pretty face... "

The trembling in your body worsens when the realization of your situation fully hits you.

You thought the moment death is on your door you would see your whole life playing in front of your eyes. The good times that made it worth living in a cursed world like this.

But the only thing you see is 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

Tobirama.

Those beautiful garnet orbs are filling your vision and you are thankful that your mind is able to show you these beautiful pictures in your last moments. You loosen the tension in your body, freeing yourself from the fear of what's about to come.

And the moment the pressure you had on your body disappears you expect the end to come, the last hit.

But instead of the last pain you would ever be feeling there is a loud 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥 beside you.

And then hands, cupping your cheeks. Someone is breathing against your face, but it isn't the disgusting odor you smelled before... It smells...

"(Y/N)?"

You open your eyes in an instant.

And there they are, the beautiful garnet red eyes, looking into your own.

His face is only inches away from yours, his gaze wandering your facial features.

"... Tobirama?" you ask quietly, not sure if you are imagining things too realistically in your last moments on this earth.

"It's me." he answers, eyebrows furrowed he looks you concerned into the eyes.

"Am I dead?"

You don't know if you have something on your face or just told him the most funny joke in this world because suddenly he starts laughing. Your eyes flicker down to his parted lips, watching him you realize this is the first time you see him like this; the corners of his eyes wrinkled, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

And you just know you must have died.

"No, I saved you. 'Again." ,he informs you after his laughter has died down and slowly let's go of your cheeks.

Then that loud 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘥 you heard earlier....

You glance to the side and see the man named Baton lying unconscious on the ground.

Your eyes immediately turn back to Tobirama. The feelings of relief, happiness and gratitude build in your body and you realize you are near tears.

Without thinking, you put your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Tobirama seems perplexed at first, his body goes tense. But it doesn't take long and he puts his right arm around your back, helping you to get to a sitting position. He doesn't let go until you slowly withdraw yourself from him.

And the moment you do so you hiss in pain. The impact your shoulder had with the ground coming to your mind.

"You are hurt." he states, a grimm look on his face.

You're about to reassure him that it's fine but instantly your eyes get bigger and you remember that there were two of your assaulters and there is no sign of the other.

As if being able to read your mind, the grey haired boy speaks up again.

"I took care of both of them."

You nod absentmindly and glance to the unconscious body beside you again, wondering if he is dead. Apparently you asked that out loud because Tobirama gives you a serious look.

The answer is obvious.

You don't know what to think of the fact that he killed these men without a second thought. But you conclude that it was probably a wise decision...

Who knows what they would've done to others in the future if it wasn't for Tobirama giving them the final blow.

A shudder floods through your body when you think about what they were planning on doing to you.

Quickly you change the subject to avoid thinking about it any further.

"How did you find me?"

"I sensed your Chakra." He deadpans, as if it is the most normal thing that one's capable of doing.

So he has sensory abilities...

Every Shinobi is able to sense the Chakra of others. But being able point out to whom it belongs to is an ability that only the most skilled Shinobi's can do. And those are called a genius among the Shinobi.

It doesn't really surprise you that Tobirama adapted these skills. The moment you first met him you knew he was strong.

In a way you envy him. With skills like these there is most likely never doubt in him whenever he enters the battlefield.

Not like you.

Even though you were born into one of the most powerful clans, you are weak. It's not like you are good at nothing. Medical Ninjutsu has become one of your greatest strengths thanks to your genius of a sensei. You are proud of those skills.

But regardless, Medical Ninjutsu was of no help to you the moment you were in danger...

And you never want to feel so helpless ever again...

Tobirama is watching the expressions shifting on your face. You seem to be in deep thoughts and he can't blame you after what you've just been through.

Sighing in exhaustion your gaze lands at the grey haired boy again to find him watching you with a concerned look. You give him a weak smile.

"Thank you, Tobirama. For saving my life." These words don't seem enough but you say them regardless. It's the least you can do.

His eyes flicker between your own and before he can say anything you suddenly touch his left cheek, your brows furrowed. Flinching slightly at the unexpected touch he tries to withdraw himself but your next words make him halt.

"You're hurt. It's a cut." Without waiting for him to speak you grab behind your back and are relieved when you feel your little bag still present on the waistband of your clothes. Grabbing inside of it you search for the desired item.

And the next thing Tobirama feels is something cold touching his cheeks.

"It's an ointment." You let him know while gently rubbing the content on his cheek.

He wants to withdraw himself from you but for some unknown reason, a reason he can't quiet decipher, he is not able to. In his mind he concludes that he probably doesn't want to scare you off after everything you went through.

Indeed, that must be the reason.

You don't register the inner tumult Tobirama is going through, instead concentrate on the task at hand. By doing so, you see the red marking on the left side of his face got smeared.

You sowly withdraw your fingers from his face after you're done.

"It should heal in a short while." You inform him and put the ointment back into your bag.

"You should heal your shoulder before standing up." He says, perfectly concealing the worry in his tone and stands up.

Almost forgetting the fact that you are injured as well, you listen to him and start concentrating Chakra into your left hand and infusing it into your shoulder. It doesn't take long and and you're able to move your arm without any pain again.

Tobirama gives you a slight nod after you're done and suddenly holds out his hand towards you. Immediately understanding the meaning of the gesture, you give him your hand and let him help you up.

The moment you are standing you can see the body of the man with the beard lying unconscious on the ground a few meters away from you.

Garnet coloured orbs follow your gaze.

"I don't feel anyone's Chakra in this forest besides ours.", he let's you know, his eyes landing back on you again. "You will be save on your way home."

No wonder he was able to sense your Chakra. His sensing abilities are better than you actually thought.

Even though you know you can trust his skills, there is still a fear inside of you. A fear you can't seem to shake off so easily.

And again, you feel horribly weak. Forming your hands into fists you curse yourself for it.

Tobirama catches onto the movement, wondering what kind of thoughts are currently crossing your mind.

"You know, I thought I started getting stronger."

You don't know why you're speaking out your mind. Probably because you've had enough of concealing them.

"But today I learned that I was wrong." You continue in a sad tone, looking to the ground.

You don't expect him to say anything, but he does anyway.

"You are." he says simply and you chuckle pitiful at that. You are about to argue against that statement, but you close your mouth the moment your eyes land on his face.

He regards you with so much sincerity it feels like your heart stops beating for a few seconds.

"How can you know?" you ask him instantly in a whisper.

"I've seen what you are capable of."

His sincere expression doesn't waver, he looks you deep into the eyes.

There seems to be doubt in your face because Tobirama continues on talking, trying to make you understand.

"Your mind is strong." , he folds his arms on his chest.

"Your body may be weak, but training the body is easier than training the mind."

You raise your brows at that, not expecting him to be so honest with you. If you recall correctly, this is the first time he doesn't leave right away but instead stands here, trying to make you see your own strength. He is here for you.

And strangely you believe every word he says.

Maybe that isn't a wise thing to do, but you can't help but feel like Tobirama wouldn't lie about that. You feel like you can trust him.

You chuckle lightly at that thought. Trusting someone so fully without even truly knowing them...

But he is right, you are strong. You can't allow the recent incident to cloud your mind. You've trained hard to gain your medical abilities.

And after all what happened, you decide that you don't want your body to stay weak. You never want to feel such horrible weakness ever again...

You never truly wanted strength, never had the intention on training your body, your Sharingan. Your deceased brother used to train you, but it was never a hard training, thinking you would never enter the battlefield. And after years of neglecting the basic skills you've learned, you automatically let lose of those abilities.

But now, after everything that happened, you want to be able to defend yourself.

You don't want to gain strength for hurting others blindly, you want to gain strength in order to protect.

Tobirama watches the way the sadness disappears from your face. He feels like a strange weight has lifted from his body. And before he can ponder about the reason behind of that feeling you give him a smile.

It's a smile that radiates determination.

_______________________________________

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