#before we hear her scream in pain as the phoenix form takes over her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heavenlyeros · 3 years

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All this recent lore seemingly pointing us to draw the connection between Umun’arath’s corruption and Saladin slowly falling to the darkness himself is driving me crazy. Is Xivu Arath whispering dark temptations to our favourite angry warmonger? We don’t know, but it sure seems like it. And then, of course, we have the emotional rollercoaster that Osiris has been going through. Naturally, I can’t help but look (respectfully) at these two arrogant and extremely competent men 👀 They have both spent a very long time with only themselves, and they are both acutely aware that they are good, so it’s no surprise they’ve built fortresses around themselves - and blinded themselves in the process, too. It’s been exciting and terrifying hearing these two grow to respect each other over the past few weeks, but while Crow sways Amanda to acceptance... I was not quite expecting Osiris to be swayed to Saladin’s views. He was always quite firmly in the middle, for what’s logical for the greater good if nothing else, and it makes sense, but it hurts. And that exchange where Osiris confirms his support were Saladin to split from the Vanguard and go against their wishes? Sign me the f up.

I wrote a thing about this, of course: my interpretation of what’s been going on in Osiris’ brilliant, idiotic bird brain. Warnings for angsty O14, Sagira, and general sadness. This is only how I see it (hint hint please come scream about lore with me whether you think the same or different), shaped in part by some amazing lore people in the community (check out r/destinylore and also tumblr user homosiris’ essay on Osiris if you haven’t because dayum, that’s some good shit that echoes my angsty feelings just right):

Picture this: you wake up one day from your forever-slumber with no memory of who you were before. The little drone who appears to have brought you back - your ghost - explains that the Traveller has gifted you with Light. You have infinite questions. You might not precisely remember the world you came from, but you know it has changed. Everywhere you go is a battle: the hive, the fallen, even your own kind - war lords versus iron lords. You find out that not many were given this gift. There is no other logical option, of course, but to keep fighting these battles to protect those who cannot. You don't understand, but every day answers a new question, and you have faith that the machine god in the sky must have chosen you for a reason. Years pass, outright wars, the weight of leadership. Your questions take different shape. Reason chips away at blind faith. You realise, one day, that the only gift your people have been given is the gift of war - that the Light's gift for you was to be a warrior. Endlessly. Your questions make others uncomfortable. Eventually you are exiled. Your student, your colleagues, your friends - they don't stick up for you. But you've been bearing the gift of dying to protect others forever. You must carry on. And despite all of your doubts and all of your anger, the Traveller's shackles, your ghost, your little light - she sticks by you. She never stops supporting you. She is your dearest friend. The two of you spend what feels like an eternity in the corridors of time. Not lost, but always searching. You make echoes, countless reflections of yourself, but for centuries upon centuries the only voices you ever hear are Sagira's, and your own. No one reaches out. They did not listen before, and they will not now. You carry on fighting in your isolation, forever seeking an answer to the most frightening of questions - how do you stop the end of everything you hold dear, the annihilation of your people? The few who paid some mind to your so called "prophecies" are little more than fanatics. It lends you little credibility. You are not only an exile, you are a pariah; you are alone and that extends beyond the simulated limitlessness of the infinite forest. You would not admit to it, but you are lonely, too. Time changes you. Confined within these confluxes, doubt takes roots, and you realise your mistakes. No one ever came to apologise to you. But more painfully than that - you have no one to apologise to. Would they give you the chance, if you were to return? Would they even be there at all? Or would everything you failed to prevent have crushed them into nothingness? You must fight on. Time also makes you powerful. You were always amongst the very best, but in the forest you hone your skills into the closest thing your kind has had to godhood. If nothing else, you have faith in yourself. If no one else, you will prevail. Something changes, one day. In the blink of an eye you are lost in the inevitability of the vex's machinations. You lose Sagira, too, for her own good, maybe for good. No matter; you must fight on, you must continue in your mission before the calamity has time to sink in. But another Guardian shows up. They carry the fight where you couldn't. They bring with them Ikora, too, and she seems willing to listen. She invites you to come back - come home. But what you did get back was your little light, and a million more timelines to explore, infinite new questions, and you know there will be no place for you in the City that threw you out. You have become invincible, and with that invincibility comes the wisdom of knowing where you cannot take another blow. You have spent eternity preventing untold histories repeating outside the realm of your control. You have grown skilled at not repeating history. Amongst the people who left you behind - whom you left behind, a little voice that might not always be Sagira's nags in the back of your mind - was the one that you loved most. You would never say, you would never risk it. So when you find out that he did not abandon you at all, but has come on a crusade to get you back -- you don't know what to feel. Joy. Horror. Love. Fear. Only, you don't know what you fear most. And suddenly it feels like your whole life's work has come to exactly this moment. It is now your turn to get him back. It strikes you, all at once, the suffocating loneliness you have endured. The tether to your sanity that was your clear purpose. It terrifies you, the hurt Saint has been subjected to. It terrifies you, too, the purpose that has kept him fighting. You don't know what to make of it. But in the end, you don't have to. You don't succeed. You wouldn't ever let your countless failings eat at you, but this failure is like a dagger through your chest. It is the Guardian, once again, who recovers Saint. Time is funny and cunning like that. You know where to find him. You know you would be welcome back, too, but time has made you see open arms as little more than a cage, a trap waiting to close in on your lungs and crush them. The guilt, most of all, cannot be reasoned with. Saint is good. Saint represents every ounce of Light you wouldn't believe in but cannot help still having faith in, even after all this time. Saint would not see in you the hate that you do. You cannot put him through that. Saint deserves the world, and even in your egotistical confidence you know that you are not it. So you must fight on. For the world that Saint deserves. Sagira, of course, is as always by your side. You don't know how it happens. One moment you are a fury of light in its every shape, and the next you are alone. Truly alone. You had accepted time has finally come for you. You were ready to die. Not... not this. But you must carry on fighting. You have nothing else left. It is once again the Guardian who saves you - this time because you asked. Not to save yourself, but to avenge her. Days and weeks and months pass and all you can do is drown in the fight. You must do it for those you love, so you do not lose any more, even if they will not have you back. The fight takes a different form now, but it is still a fight. You are confined to the City. The place that exiled you, now become prison. All because you dared ask the questions that terrified them! And you paid dearly for it. You are heartbroken and tired and underneath it all you are angry - an anger that bubbles pleasantly to overtake all of the pain. You must not give in to it. You are invincible. This, too, time will heal. So you tell yourself you fight because of love. Your love for the people, your love for this prison-City, your love for Saint. You catch glimpses of people looking at you with pity and it fills you with rage. You cannot escape this anger. It keeps you fighting because you are so, so exhausted, and there is no place for you to rest your head. You have made your loneliness into a way of life. You do not need their pity. You will prevail, as you always have. Sagira might be gone, but you will learn to carry on. You always have, you will prevail. You will fight for those who are hurt - you will not fight just to hurt those who hurt you. That is how it's meant to be. And you are always right. You are the Vanguard Commander's advisor now. It feels like a mockery - the mighty phoenix, now little more than a flightless canary in a gilded cage. You remind yourself these people care about you. That after all this time, and after all of your perceived wrongs, they have taken you back. You remind yourself it is them you fight for, any way you can. It is a slow road back up now that you cannot fly, but you will make it out. You will come out soaring. Victorious. You know it is true; you are always right. You work alongside Lord Saladin. He carries the same exhaustion you are all too familiar with less gracefully than you do. You see him be consumed by countless traumas, you see him for what he is - a shellshocked veteran flailing in resemblance of fight, clinging desperately to a place he used to have in a world that has moved on. He doesn't sleep, doesn't care for himself, his living quarters are a mess. You almost pity him, but you have to stop yourself to laugh at just how similar you are. Saladin is past forgiving. Saladin is past compromise. He has let the hate consume him, make him blind - but in his anger you see him come alive with a fire you know you shall never again harness. Perhaps Saladin is right. Perhaps you were wrong. Perhaps the only way to not give up is to give in.

#destiny the game #season of the chosen #destiny 2 #lord saladin #osiris #destiny osiris #destiny #i have a lot of feelings and all of them hurt #if there is an ounce of potential for angst and pain in something you bet i will latch onto it like the hungriest monke #these two angry assholes? yes #i could have had something wholesome but no #give me the idiots #someone needs to slap some sense into them #at first i hoped osiris would slap some sense into saladin #and honestly? he is well known for playing the long game #he might not be the wisest but he is smart and a good strategist #so maybe this is all just a ploy for osiris to do exactly that #osiris has a voice line i think in presage about saint saying hello #he is not an island #he has a support group #i just really don't think he's actually accepted that whatsoever #maybe he will #or maybe he'll fuck up again he's good at that #tell a man you don't agree with him once and he will go fight literal god all by himself #anyway yes #p a i n o c l o c k

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fenandfield · 3 years

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Buried Beneath

Fic summary: Despite the tremors Phoenix felt a groan as the old courthouse shifted and creaked with the earth beneath it and he felt his face go pale. Realizing what was about to happen, he only had seconds to act as he rolled Edgeworth under the prosecutors bench, throwing himself on top of him just as the entire building fell in on itself, trapping the two attorneys inside its bowels.

The ground went still

After a particularly devastating earthquake, the courthouse is in ruin. Phoenix and Edgeworth are trapped down below the wreckage until help arrives.

Word count: 4049

Chapters: 1/1

Story and link to read on ao3 are just below the cut, reblogs and comments are lovely :)

It came out of the blue - like earthquakes tended to do - fast and terrifying as usual.

Phoenix stood in front of the court, pressing Edgeworths witness with no remorse as Maya stood faithfully behind the defence bench, sneaking candies into her mouth when she thought no one was watching.

It was with Edgeworths faltered “Objection-“ that the ground had begun to tremble. And it trembled hard.

Phoenix stumbled to his knees as someone screamed “earthquake!” and panic settled over the courtroom. A TV fell off the wall behind him with a clatter and the presented case evidence slid off the desk as Phoenix shielded his head with his hands and ran for Maya where she stood frozen in fear.

The ground continued to shake.

“Evacuate, evacuate the building!”

Phoenix fought for his balance as he tugged on Mayas sleeve, “Come on, we have to get out of here!”

The spirit medium fell into his side with a stumble. “But, Nick! What about Mr. Edgeworth?!” She cried over the noise of shattering objects and frightened people.

Phoenix gasped, eyes going wide. Edgeworth. He turned. Miles hadn’t moved from his place behind the prosecutors bench, eyes forced shut and knuckles white where they gripped the wooden banister.

Without thinking he shoved Maya towards the exit, “I’ll get him out of here, you go!” She stared back with tear filled eyes, rooted to the quaking floor. “Go!” He barked, fixing her with a stern glare until she sniffled, turning on her heel and running for safety.

The ground continued to shake.

Phoenix spun around. He knew he only had a matter of moments before Edgeworth would spiral out of mental reach or worse, faint. But it was too late. Phoenix had taken his first step forward just as Miles’ eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed onto the floor, forehead striking the desk rather harshly on the way down, impact eliciting a sickening crack.

“Miles!” He screamed as he staggered over to his slumped form, grabbing the man by his shoulders and slapping at his slack face. The man lying limp on the floor made no response. “Don’t do this, we have to get out of here!”

Despite the tremors Phoenix felt a groan as the old courthouse shifted and creaked with the earth beneath it and he felt his face go pale. Realizing what was about to happen, he only had seconds to act as he rolled Edgeworth under the prosecutors bench, throwing himself on top of him just as the entire building fell in on itself, trapping the two attorneys inside its bowels.

The ground went still.

Phoenix came around to the scent of blood and the sensation of a crushing weight resting on the lower part of his body, most specifically his right ankle. Swallowing blearily he lifted his head with a groan and opened his eyes.

What had happened?

Right. Earthquake. Edgeworth. The courthouse collapsing.

He coughed as he attempted to take a gulp of air, littered with dust and debris. His surroundings were cast in darkness though if he squinted he could still make out a dim light source coming from somewhere behind him.

So they were buried. Hopefully not too deeply if light and oxygen was still able to filter its way through the wreckage.

They were buried alive. Okay, Wright. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t fucking panic. It… it could be worse, right?

He could be dead.

As his vision adjusted to the minimal light source he could make out the silhouette of another persons head slanted to the side on the floor underneath his own body. Miles.

Phoenix felt a jolt of panic as he realized that the other man had yet to make any signs of life. Freeing a hand, he placed two fingers on the side of Miles’ exposed neck.

One beat. Two beat. Three beat. Four.

Phoenix let his head hang with a sigh of relief. Edgeworth was alive, simply out cold. The fact sent a small pang of worry through his system, albeit, a fact that he was slightly grateful for because the position they had ended up in was quite… undignified.

Phoenix lay on his front, arms that had previously been wrapped around Edgeworths shoulders now propping himself up. The exposed side of his body had been completely buried, forcing the two men taught against the far wall of the bench, and Edgeworth… Edgeworth lay tucked almost perfectly underneath Phoenix’s own self. Practically nose to nose on the floor.

Phoenix felt his ears go red with heat at the realization that there was nothing separating the two attorneys except for the clothes on their backs. Embarrassed, Phoenix attempted to roll off of his unconscious friend but met resistance in the form of searing pain in his ankle.

Stifling a cry of pain he held his breath and pulled at his leg as hard as he could muster. He tugged and tugged to no avail, cursing and panting.

Then something shifted. Something heavy. Shifting the opposite way that Phoenix needed it to go. He bit his lip hard as the pain grew tenfold, moaning in misery. Okay, so that was a bad idea.

Was

Stuck.

And with Edgeworth pinned underneath him, it didn’t seem like they’d be freeing themselves anytime soon. No, they’d have to wait for help to come to their aid, and pray that it would get there fast - if it came at all.

He tipped his head as far back as it could go, desperate to make their whereabouts known. “Hello!?” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “Can anyone hear me!?”

Only the sound of Edgeworths even breathing met his ears.

Phoenix had heard stories of victims in these types of burial situations. Some having to lie in wait for days on end before being uncovered and by then… it was too late. Asphyxiation, starvation, internal injuries. It took them all out.

Fear was like ice in his veins.

Hastily, he placed his fingers back against Edgeworths throat for reassurance. The prosecutor was still alive but unresponsive. Phoenix swallowed as he stared down at Edgeworths moppy bangs in the dark. He couldn’t panic now. Not when Miles surely would, thanks to his past trauma.

And wouldn’t this situation just make everything ten times worse for him. Phoenix chewed his bottom lip in sweltering anxiety. It would be more than a challenge to keep Miles calm when he woke up.

If he woke up…

Phoenix winced and would’ve smacked himself for that thought if he had the space to move. He couldn’t afford that sort of doubt, not now at all times.

He shifted again in an effort to find a more comfortable position for his ankle as it continued to throb but went still when he heard a faint voice.

“...please…” Miles breathed and Phoenix’s heart leapt into his throat. He was coming around.

“E-edgeworth?” He stuttered in a low voice, so not to startle the man beneath him.

Miles made no signs of recognition, eyes closed and head tipped to the side. “Please… don’t… don’t hurt my father…”

Phoenix’s bottom lip was starting to swell under his constant nipping. “Edgeworth… M-Miles, it’s me, it’s Phoenix…”

Miles finally lifted his head to reveal the other half of his face which was - much to Phoenix’s horror - slick with blood. Phoenix’s eyes flew wide and he pushed away from Edgeworth only for the back of his head to make contact with the underside of the desk with a dull ‘bonk’.

He rubbed at the sore spot as he vividly remembered Miles whacking his own head on the bench when he fainted. He better not be concussed. Phoenix didn’t know how to deal with head injuries very well.

“Ph… Phoenix..?” Miles eyelids fluttered for a moment before they shut again. “No...no… don’ hurt…” Edgeworth whimpered and Phoenix shushed him gently, uncomfortable and unsure of how to treat the situation. He had never seen the man so open and vulnerable before.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay Edgeworth.” He consoled as he tilted his head to try and get a better view of Edgeworths head wound. The poor lighting discoloured the crimson liquid, altering its shade to one of inky blackness. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from. “That looks bad, Miles.” Subtly, he maneuvered his arm and patted down his breast pocket, removing his tissue that he stored in there. With one hand he shook it until it unfolded and used it to dab at the blood that coated half of Miles’ face and hairline.

Edgeworth immediately pulled away with a grimace and a noise of pain. “No… no…” he gasped and tossed his head, limbs weakly beginning to shiver.

Phoenix braced himself as Miles’ tossing and turning put pressure on his wounded ankle. “Hey, it’s okay… it’s okay Miles.” He struggled to keep his voice light as pain flickered across his entire leg at the change in posture.

Ever so slowly Edgeworths stirring ceased, and his only movements became the incoherent muttering of his lips and soft trembles of his body. Hesitantly, Phoenix wiped the blood from his cheek, smearing it slightly up the bridge of his nose as he went.

It was obvious that Miles was not faring well and it terrified him.

Phoenix didn’t know if it were the blow to the head or the PTSD that was making Edgeworth act so different - so wrong - but he figured it was likely a healthy combination of both factors.

Miles kept muttering incoherencies under his breath in a broken voice of a whisper as Phoenix cautiously cleaned his wound to the best of his ability. When he located the source of the blood he winced with Edgeworth as he felt it out with his fingers. A gash, roughly two inches long sat on top of a tough lump of swollen flesh that rested just underneath Miles’ hairline.

Ouch.

Phoenix knew headwounds bled quite a bit, but he was not expecting his handkerchief to become soiled with the substance as fast as it had. His fingers were sticky and red, stained almost as much as the fabric in his hands and yet the cut kept oozing. Not knowing what else to do, Phoenix refolded the tissue and settled it on top of the injury before pressing down. You were supposed to put pressure on wounds, right?

Miles moaned underneath him and Phoenix patted his chest with his free hand in an awkward attempt at comfort before remembering that he was probably smearing blood all over the expensive suit.

He retracted his hand with a meek chuckle. “Yeah, we’re in a bit of a squeeze, aren’t we Miles?” Tentatively, he lifted the corner of the handkerchief to check for clotting but had to press back down when more blood instantly welled up. “You know… you’re supposed to keep this red stuff inside your body.”

He kept up the pressure as Edgeworth continued to shiver as if he’d been left in the polar circle - most likely had something to do with blood loss and shock - Phoenix assumed. He hated the silence but hated the echo of his own voice even more, so he opted to stay quiet, kept sane only by the sounds of Edgeworths faint mumbles and exhales.

He didn’t know how long it had been since the quake had struck, but it felt like days. Phoenix rubbed at his nose. It had probably only been a few hours at max and yet there had been no sight nor sound of rescue.

Phoenix swallowed dryly, if anything he’d be dying of thirst before sun set. With a sigh, he doubled his pressure on Miles’ brow and mentally settled into the never ending silence.

But then.

Miles woke up.

With a gasp the prosecutors eyes flew open and he jackknifed halfway before whacking his forehead off of Phoenix’s and collapsing back onto the floor.

Phoenix clasped a hand to his head with a shout of surprise. “Miles!”

Edgeworth blinked and even in the dark setting, Phoenix could plainly see one pupil larger than the other.

Not good.

“F-father…” Edgeworth croaked.

Phoenix shook his head, “No, no, it’s me Phoenix, Phoenix Wright.”

Miles sucked in a breath through his nose, crinkling it on the exhale. “Wr...Wright?” The hint of confusion in his voice was strong. Yeah, he was definitely concussed, Phoenix decided.

“Yeah, it’s me… how do you feel?” He asked lightly, not expecting his next words to be a holler of pain and surprise when Edgeworth started moving again.

Miles pushed at him weakly, “Ge’ off…” he slurred as he writhed.

Phoenix grabbed at miles wrists and pinned them easily to the floor. “Stop, stop. Don’t move, please stop moving.” He hissed through his teeth at the agonizing sensation of the weight increasing pressure on his injured limb. “We’re stuck, okay? Now please, stop moving.”

Something Phoenix said must've managed to worm its way through Edgeworths swollen skull because immediately, Miles went still again. There was a beat before either one of them made another sound.

“St-stuck?” Miles’ voice was high with terror. “No… no…”

Shit, wrong thing to say… “Well, yeah! But it’s not that bad really. Well, I mean it’s a little snug...”

“No no… not… happening…” Miles coughed and spluttered as he attempted to twist out of Phoenix’s hold. “Have to… no air… st-stop stop stop…”. The prosecutor's breaths swiftly turned into panicked pants, settled on the cusp of hyperventilation.

Phoenix didn’t know what to do or say to qualm his friends fears. “Mi-Miles, breathe- you’re…we’re gonna get out of here, okay?” Edgeworths chest heaved and in the gleam of the light, Phoenix caught the trails of something wet on Miles’ face. Tears.

Edgeworth was crying.

Phoenix’s heart broke at the sight.

“I… We’re going to get out of here, Miles. I promise.” Phoenix let his head dip close enough to Edgeworths that their foreheads brushed briefly. “I promise you.”

All too suddenly Miles went totally still and Phoenix pulled away, worry contorting his features. Did he just pass out again? Phoenix didn’t know if he could handle being alone in the dark again.

God, he felt like a little kid.

“Miles... You still here?” He cried, voice shaking with poorly restrained emotion. No response from the man lying trapped underneath him. “Miles, wake up!” He barked, shaking the silent man by his wrists.

“Do… shut up…” Miles moaned when Phoenix began relentlessly chanting his name, poking his cheekbone with every syllable.

Phoenix laughed at the sound of his voice, now that sounded like the Edgeworth he knew. “Oh thank goodness, I was so worried!”

“Wrigh’ is that… you?” Miles’ voice was hardly louder than a mere whisper but it was still music to Phoenix’s ears.

“He-hey, Edgeworth… yeah, it’s me.” He sighed in relief at the coherency he could hear in his colleagues tone.

Miles squinted up at him. “You… you’re lying on top of me…”

Phoenix felt his smile falter, pressing his lips together as his thoughts spiralled. Hadn’t they already gone over this? “Yeah, I kinda am… sorry about that.” He confirmed. Miles simply blinked.

So Edgeworth still wasn’t… all there.

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long number of seconds before Edgeworth whined. “Get off… you big… oaf…” He made to lift his wrists again but gave up against Phoenix’s heavy grip.

“Sorry, sorry, no can do.” The words ‘we’re stuck’ were on the tip of his tongue before he bit it back. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “How’s your head?” He tried instead.

Edgeworth swallowed hard. “Hurts…” he admitted without interrogation - another red flag revealing what state he was in. Edgeworth wasn’t the type to tell the truth when it came to personal feelings.

“Yeah, yeah I bet it does.” Phoenix started slowly, unsure of what words would trigger Miles' psyche into another panic attack.

Miles coughed, harsh and wet sounding, “...why?”

“Why? Uh, why what…” Phoenix frowned momentarily before realization struck. “Oh, well you took a good hit. Whacked it real good.”

Miles made a sound somewhere between a hum and a groan. “W-where?”

Phoenix paused. How was he supposed to answer that in truth without igniting another freak out? Easy.

Lie.

“We’re, uh, in bed…?” Phoenix grimaced as soon as the words were out - what kind of excuse was that?

“...Oh.” Miles sounded slightly surprised, but he made no grunts of disapproval, which is what Phoenix had been expecting without a doubt in his mind. “T-together?”

Phoenix squeaked. “Yep! Don’t you remember, we’re uh-“ he was really digging out his own grave here, “- We’re dating.” He choked out.

Miles frowned. “Don’ remember…”

“Well I’m not surprised, you hit your head pretty hard.” Phoenix chuckled awkwardly, mixed emotions washing over him at the continuation of the charade. “How do you feel, Miles?”

Edgeworth sighed and turned his neck, eyes fluttering closed. “T’red… Head hurts…”

Alarms blared in Phoenix’s mind as Miles relaxed in his hold. There was something he had read about concussions and sleeping. “Oh wait wait, Edgeworth you can’t sleep right now!”

Miles growled. “But… bed?”

“Yeah, yeah we are in bed but Miles, you’re hurt.” Phoenix pleaded but Miles kept his eyes closed. “Come on, you have to stay awake… you could- you could die... an-and I don’t want to be alone…” His voice dimmed exponentially on the last part, admitting the fact more so to himself than Edgeworth.

“Alone… is not… head… hurts…”

Phoenix shushed him as Miles shifted minutely as he whimpered, brushing back his shaggy bangs with a blood stained hand.

“Make… it stop… Phoenix…”

Phoenix felt his breath catch in his throat. There was… there was nothing more he could do to help.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked, tears stinging at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Miles.”

“Please don’... don’t hurt my… don’t… father…”

Phoenix tucked his head into his chest, fighting back tears. He couldn’t deal with this, he needed out and he needed out now.

Miles went utterly limp and a lump formed in Phoenix’s throat, swollen and hard and nearly impossible to form words around. “Miles?” He choked, no longer comforted by the sound of Edgeworths breathing. What was once steady and even was now shallow and breathless.

No response.

His hope grew dim as the light source faded.

Night had come and what was once warm was now pale and cold.

He was shaking from the chill, clutching to Miles’ body heat like a moth to flame. The man underneath him had stopped shivering long ago.

It had been hours since Miles had passed out and he had yet to move of his own accords. Phoenix was scared for his life. If Edgeworth died in here… it would be all his fault. To make matters worse, Phoenix had accidentally reopened his cut when he had peeled off the crusty handkerchief and the wound was now bleeding freely again.

A trail of blood escaped the hold of the fabric clutched to Miles’ face and it streaked down his temple like a dark red tear.

Phoenix clenched his jaw at the sight. What he was doing wasn’t helping, he wasn’t helping, he was useless and they were both going to die because of his incompetence.

His eyes burned with malice, and his mouth contorted with the verge of tears. What happened to staying calm? Stay calm Wright, stay calm…

”Phoenix.”

Stop imagining things and relax…

”Phoenix…” A woman’s voice, calm and cool rang echoelessly inside his mind. ”You’re not imagining things.”

Phoenix froze, holding his breath.

That voice… could it really be..?

“M-Mia?” He gasped as hot tears spilt over his cheeks. Maya must be channeling her late sisters thoughts somehow, meaning… the medium had to be close by.

Mia’s huff of laughter was the best thing Phoenix had ever heard. ”Hold on just a little bit longer, Phoenix. They’re close, they’re so, so close.”

Phoenix had never cried so hard in his life. Rescue was coming, they were going to make it.

He patted Edgeworth on the shoulder, “Did you hear that, Miles? We’re gonna make it, we’re gonna get out of here, just like I promised!”

Only… Miles…

He wasn’t breathing.

Phoenix’s world came crashing down in a sick mockery of the courthouse walls as adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream and he yanked his ankle free of the rubble with a sickening crunch. He would’ve screamed if he had felt the pain.

But his mind was solely focused on Miles laying stiff on the floor.

“No!” His throat was raw with emotion as he placed his ear against Edgeworths still chest, barely feeling any relief when the delayed beat of his heart registered in his mind. “No, no, please god, no!”

Frantically he hovered his hands over Miles’ chest and head, scanning the ground for any sort of clue as to what to do next.

“What do I do, Mia, what do I do?!” He screamed into the darkness but the woman had vanished back into the realm of the dead. “Oh god Miles, not now, please!”

Miles' features were peaceful, creases and worry lines gone into the night and Phoenix punched his chest with a newfound hatred for the man.

“Don’t you do this to me, don’t you leave me now after everything we’ve been through!” Phoenix screamed as he shook Edgeworths shoulders, watching his head turn bonelessly from side to side.

Phoenix settled a bloody hand on the side of Miles’ face as he steadied himself and realized what he needed to do.

With one final deep inhale, Phoenix steeled his mind and pressed his lips to Miles.

The kiss of life.

Plugging Edgeworths nose and transferring his air into the prosecutor's lungs, Phoenix pulled back to breathe again before diving back down.

“Come on you stupid idiot, breathe!”

Again and again he forced his oxygen into Miles’ unresponsive body, crying and panting and begging and dizzy with exhaustion until

Someone

Grabbed

His

Shoulder.

“Sir, sir! Can you hear me sir?” A man hollered from above.

Phoenix whipped around, mouth agape with shock. “Ye-yes! I’m here, we’re down here!”

“Okay sir, just hang on a minute, we’re gonna get you out in a jiffy.” The man retracted his hand with a “Hey tell that weird girl she was right, there are people trapped under the prosecutors bench!”

Phoenix sobbed openly as he rocked Edgeworth in his arms. “They’re here, they’re going to help us, Miles… everything is going to be okay.”

But everything wasn’t okay.

Miles still wasn’t breathing.

The rubble cleared above and gentle hands reached inside and began to pull him free from the wreckage.

“No, no!” He cried, delirious from pain and terror as he was broken free of his temporary prison, “help him, help him please…”

The hands laid him down on a stretcher that was set on the floor. He went willingly as someone jumped into the hole in his absence.

“Hey we need a medic over here! This ones not breathing!”

Phoenix closed his eyes, tears still flowing freely. Edgeworth was going to die and it was all his fault. He couldn’t save him, he couldn’t save anybody.

Slender fingers entwined with his own. “Nick?” Someone asked, hesitant.

Phoenix opened his eyes.

Maya.

“Ed- Edgeworth…” He opened his mouth to speak but she quieted him with a finger to his lips.

“Mia wanted me to tell you that Mr. Edgeworth will be okay. He’s hurt bad, but he’s gonna make it...” She paused for a moment as a medic bustled over and fastened an oxygen mask over Phoenix's face. “His spirit is strongly tethered to this plane. He won’t die. Not today.”

Phoenix choked on a sob as he clutched Mayas hand in his own. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been so emotional but then again, he’d never been buried alive before.

Over Mayas shoulder he could see Edgeworth being fastened to a stretcher identical to his own and he let his eyes flutter close as Gumshoe appeared at his side and they wheeled him away.

He trusted Mia with all his soul.

Phoenix’s own stretcher was lifted and began to roll and Maya kept pace beside him as he was loaded into the back of an ambulance. “You did good, Nick, you did good.” She whispered consolations to him as the air in his mask turned sweet.

“Everything’s gonna be okay…”

The world began to turn circles around him and Phoenix felt his body relax into the cushions underneath him.

“You can rest now.”

And rest he did.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright ace attorney #ace attorney fanfiction #phoenix wright fan fiction #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #narumitsu fanfiction #narumitsu #wrightworth fanfiction #wrightworth #buried alive prompt #whump fic #tw: blood #tw: head injury #tw: ptsd #tw: panic attacks

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arctickat2400 · 3 years

Text

Detention <> Ron Weasley

Based on Order of the Phoenix concept

* * * * * *

“This is a defense against the dark arts class and you are teaching us nothing! How are we supposed to learn how to defend ourselves?” You put emphasis on the word ‘defend’. “We are far further than the basics and we won’t learn anything with you here-”

You have almost had the last straw with this toad, and it’s only the first day the monster has been here. Ever since Dolores Umbridge stepped foot into Hogwarts, everything changed. It seemed like a whole different world and a worse one at that. You couldn’t help but talk back to her several times; the whole situation was that infuriating.

“Detention!” Professor Umbridge exclaimed. “This evening, Y/L/N.” You saw that coming. You knew what was going to happen, and even knowing that you’d have to spend an extra afternoon with that beast, you just couldn’t help yourself. It was just detention, right? No. You’d find it was far worse than anyone could have thought.

Later after your classes ended, you guide yourself to Umbridge’s office, unknown to what was about to hit you. Knocking twice, you let yourself in. “Ah, Miss Y/L/N. Nice of you to join me this evening.” Umbridge says kindly. Anyone would pay a million dollars just to punch that smug facade off her face. You tried to handle your emotions as Umbridge gestured for you to sit at the single student desk in the disgustingly pink room. I hate pink even more now, you thought to yourself as you sat down at the desk, finding only a piece of parchment and a quill.

“I think you’re missing something,” You say quietly, barely looking over your shoulder.

“Everything that you require is there,” Umbridge replies as she stands behind you, looking out the window menacingly. You take a deep breath, trying to control yourself as you pick up the quill and begin to write “I will not talk back”, as commanded by the toad herself.

You had never gotten detention before. You were a good student. Even Snape liked you. But, you had had it when Umbridge took over Hogwarts. She just made you so infuriated and she always had you on the edge of your seat, but not in a good way like at the point where you’re waiting for that surprising plot twist you never saw coming.

After you had begun writing a line or two, you felt an itch on the back of your hand. You went to scratch it, only to see that it was already red although you hadn’t even touched it yet. You shook it off until you’d finished your third line and you seethed. A piercing pain shot through the back of your hand. You looked down at your hand in confusion. Red marks began to show up and as you kept writing, scars began to form and you tried to control your breathing. You tried not to let out a scream, no matter how excruciating the pain happened to be.

What kind of punishment is this? You exclaim in your head. You knew you couldn’t stop, though. You had to keep writing or else you’ll never get out of here. You wrote several more lines, each one creating deeper scars of the words you had written. It was hard to keep the tears from sliding down your cheeks as your eyes stung from the pain. You glanced down at your hand, wanting to let out a loud sob as blood ran down your arm, but tried your hardest to contain it.

Finally, after what felt like hours and hours of pain and punishment, you were free to go, and you didn’t hesitate one second as you ran out the door, through the classroom and out into the halls, tears streaming down your face.

On the way to the Gryffindor dorms, you barely catch sight of your boyfriend, Ron, your eyes too glossed over with tears to be able to see much except your path. “Y/N?” Ron looks towards you, concerned, as he had been walking down the hall in the opposite direction. He had actually been looking for you, and he turned to run after you.

You make it back to the Gryffindor common room and, luckily, no one else was there. You slam down on the couch, bawling, as you hold your blood-stained hand, still searing with pain.

“Y/N?” Ron rushed in and knelt down in front of you to look up into your eyes as you immediately wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He instantly embraced you, comforting you as it was what you needed most.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, sweetheart,” Ron whispers, moving to sit next to you as he holds you tight, allowing you to cry into his chest. Ron strokes your hair, calming you down. Your cries soften, but Ron can still hear the faint whimpers that escape your lips.

“Let me see, hun,” He requests as you let go of him to look into his eyes before bringing your hand up for Ron to see. He inspects your hand with concern, looking up into your eyes with sympathy. He gently takes your uninjured hand in his own, standing you up and leading you to the bathroom, holding your injured hand gently, his other hand now on the small of your back.

Upon arriving, Ron takes a damp washcloth and carefully washes the blood from your hand. You seethe as the water stings the scars. “Sorry, love,” Ron apologizes sympathetically.

As he was finishing up, Hermione and Harry rushed into the bathroom. “Hey, we heard what happened. Are you alright?” Hermione questioned you sweetly.

“I’m fine. She just really makes my blood boil. I really hate her.” You state, the trio knowing exactly who you were talking about, as another tear slips down your cheek. Ron takes a bandage and wraps the cloth around your hand.

“I think everyone can agree to that. But let’s try not to get on her bad side and avoid her as much as possible.” Harry said and everyone nodded as Ron brought his hand up to brush away your tears. He pressed his lips to the side of your head, wrapping his arm around you, bringing your head to his chest. He’s always able to warm your heart. He never fails to give you butterflies.

It was just about dinner time when you were sitting with Harry, Ron, and Hermione by the fire in the common room. You were leaning back against Ron, eyes heavy and body tired from all the pain and tears you experienced today. Just then, your stomach started making noises, alerting you that you were indeed hungry. Ron apparently heard and started laughing lightly, making you giggle with him.

“I think it’s about time we go get some dinner. Who’s with me?” Ron questioned, his hand sliding over your stomach as you smiled contentedly.

“Can you ever think about anything other than food?” Hermione argued.

“I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about Y/N. But, I am quite hungry, so…” Ron drawled. Everyone let out a laugh as we traveled out of the common room, through the halls, and to the Great Hall. Many students were already there, starting the feast that made your stomach rumble more. You all took your normal seats, Fred and George already there. Once you sat down, Ron sat beside you, the twins on your other side, and Harry and Hermione sitting across the table.

“You alright, Y/N? We heard what Umbridge did,” Fred started, making you look towards the twins before starting to dish out your food.

“And we saw you running down the halls,” George added directly after.

“I’m fine, you guys. Thank you.” The twins were like the brothers you never had. You met them when you met Ron in your first year and you’ve been best friends ever since. They always had a soft spot for you, always had your back, always assured you that they’d be there to protect you. Ron argues that, as the boyfriend, he was your protector. You would always laugh when the three brothers got in their mini fights over you. That just made it seem like you were a part of their family, the family you wished you had.

“Ron was there to pick up the pieces, don’t worry.” You finished your answer as you strung your arm through Ron’s, kissing his cheek sweetly. The twins just smiled at you as you all began your delicious feast.

You always knew you could count on Ron to be there in your times of need. Just like you’d be there for him the same. You hadn’t told him yet, but you love him.

#ron weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #weasley twins #ron weasley imagines #ron weasley x reader

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

Text

Let me heal you

Jason Todd didn’t hate Bruce or Dick. Nah. Waste of valuable energy. In fact, Jason respected, dare he say even admired his ward and brother. What he despised were their inflexible morals, or rather his family forcing their morals on everyone else. Specially him. We don’t kill. Yes, yes. Fine. What exasperated him was when Bruce decided that his morals applied to everyone else that he took issue. Including the black sheep of the family. He didn’t precisely kill, he let himself go for a single minute. He lost it one time. Batman gave everyone unlimited chances at redemption, except the Red Hood. One mistakes and he’s exiled. In the end it didn’t matter. Nevertheless, he was aware that was not the reason he was angry tonight. No. It was entirely something else.

He could hear her anywhere he was, no matter what time of day or night, what state of sobriety or inebriation, critically wounded. In the dark dangerous streets of Gotham, the sparring ring with the smack of fists and bodies, between the breaths he took as he was falling into the arms of Morpheus. He could always hear Raven. Foolish. She was too far from him. He lived and painfully yearned for her. She was soft curves and he was hard edges. She was a fierce and magical Phoenix while he was a fucking jay with broken wings and a delirious mind. What a catch, Jason.

It drove him mad, how much it didn’t make sense, at all. A soldier wouldn’t fall asleep to a lullaby, but rather the drumbeats of wrath and screams of his opponents. But she was that, for in each beat of her heart Jason heard the call to arms. These complicated feelings, he didn’t remember when they started surging in him. He tried to sort out his feelings, even though he knew that would hurt worse than the burning pain emanating from his cracked ribs. Tsk. He could use a cig right this second.

She was probably at the Manor with Richard, staying in the guest room which was Coincidently next to his old bedroom. And here he was alone, in his modest studio apartment. The pain of his bruised and broken flesh and bones was nothing compared to that excruciating knowledge. Jason rubbed his palms over his weary eyes trying to calm himself. Attempt to dampen the burning rage that was about to send him to a dark place in his mind he didn’t want to think about. He had control. He couldn’t lose control over the voices. Feel the boiling anger, burning in his chest, squeezing his heart. Let the eternal agony that burned through his blood and singed his eyes an unnatural green color. He left that fucking bullshit behind. He loathed the Pit for taking his chance to offer her something...relatively normal.

Since Artemis and Bizarro were gone. Officially, Jason was on his own for the first time in a long while. As he pulled his arms up to finish bandaging his wounds, his shoulders stung and in a gasping breath Jason quickly dropped his arms. He was useless. The pain was worse today than it usually had been. Probably from all the previous battles against Black Mask and his personal army of mercenaries. They had become a pain in the ass. Perhaps a short visit to good Doctor Tompkins would have been a better idea. He cursed breathlessly.

A knock at the door was his only warning before he turned around to see her. Raven opening the door and striding in as if this was her room and not his. Not that this was the first time she sneaked into his apartment.

She was here. It wasn’t a vision or product of his imagination or effect of high dosage of painkillers. He swallowed hard as he found himself speechless, mind blank in her presence. With her dark cloak and hood down, serene expression and looking at him with intense amethyst gems.

He paid a high price after using the pit to have his life back and this anew tremendous strength. But there’s something else, something he’d never felt before. A pull in his chest, as though someone had tied a string to one of his ribs and it was tugging on it, gently but insistently, coaxing him towards her...She was his answer. For a half-demon goddess she was the closest thing to heaven to him. The wings of freedom.

“What is it?” Jason growled harshly. It wasn’t a threat. He simply didn’t want her to see him like this. In such a weak position that he couldn’t even patch up his own damn body. Those little bits of his bloody past stopped him from reaching out to her. What right did he have to ask her to love him despite everything? Indeed he paid a high price.

“Came here to gloat, little bird?” He spat poisonous words with a half smirk. Poisonous words and threats were all he ever had. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly, deeply, getting air into his lungs, refusing to be beaten by this, refusing to be anything less than civil and let her see right through him.

There was no answer. She watched him closely for a moment before slowly closing the distance between her and him. As if she was nervous that he would order her away. Like last time she had been here, her palm caressing his cheek with such tenderness he had forgotten it existed. Her breath was warm against his neck and he was dying to mutter ‘please stay’.

What a joke. Jason Todd. Unapologetically and insanely in love with the little Raven. A Titan. Each atom of his body breathed longing into the space between them, aching to be with her, love her as a whole as it should be. But with a fractured mind, chained with firm mania cuffs. So hateful and yet insanely in love with this creature capable of drowning him in his ashes.

“I came to offer my help healing you but if you don’t want then...” She studied throughly his figure for a solid minute but at his reaction, furrowed forehead formed a thin line. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to regain her elegant composure, taking a step back.

He quickly wrapped his hand around her wrist to stop her from leaving. It was our of instinct or his body ice cold starved for a ray of light. He kept his face clear of the pain his shoulders felt at the movement, but Raven’s eyes flickered to them. A flash of genuine worry. Why he couldn’t apologize and be a gentleman like the golden boy. Damn it. Manners Todd.

“Are you mad at me?” Raven asked serious. She twisted her body around to face him yet she didn’t pry her wrist from his grip that had gentled as soon as he halted her.

Did she want the truth? No. He was mad at himself for not fighting for her. For being weak. For his wickedness. For all his bullshit. But the beat in his chest was now pounding like a hammer against an anvil, erasing the other sounds around him. He could only focus on her.

“No.” Jason forced a chuckled though it lacked the usual mirth. “I’m not mad at you. Which is surprising considering we are usually infuriating each other every other day, sunshine. Missing me much?” Letting her go was far more unbearable than his cracked ribs. She continued staring at him deciding whether he was telling her the truth or guessing what game he was playing tonight.

He felt his body tense in anticipation of her answer. Did she miss him? Did she think of him as often as he did? He considered briefly sending her away though every fibre of his being rebelled against the action.

Raven knew she shouldn’t be here but yet she found herself coming anyway, despite her rationality telling her to run, to flee, to hide, to forget that she ever came here…But something deeper, something stronger, urged her forwards. She didn’t dare fight it any longer. Yes. She missed him every second since their last encounter. She bit her lip out of habit. She was a Titan and he was an outlaw. Different sides of the coin.

“Jason.” Her free hand stretched for his that had loosened from her wrist. His callouses scraped across her skin and she found herself enjoying the touch perhaps too much for her own good. She recalled the last time they made contact. First he gave into it like a malnourished kid offered a piece of bread, but then he rejected it unreasonably. So adamant on pushing her away. Not this time.

Raven let out a heavy and deep sigh.

“How long do you plan to continue this ridiculous dance? Running around in circles.” She asked him openly with a soft voice. Her heart seizing painfully tight in her chest.

As long as it takes for you to leave me, he thought to himself. No answer.

“Jason” Raven repeated his name until his eyes met hers, it was a combination of lake blue and cyan. Impossibly beautiful and perfect, usually brightening with amusement or laughter, slightly shadowed by regret. Except now they were dull with contained sorrow. Let me heal you. All the hurting parts of you.

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you reject me?” She spoke with a cracked voice and glassy eyes. Doubting her worth snd pride wounded.

What. No. No. Hell no. The least he ever wanted was to hurt her. His fists clenched with frustration. How could she ever think he was ashamed of her? He adored her with his broken and dammed soul. He was ashamed of himself.

“I’m not ashamed of you.” Jason said with a shake of his head. “I’m disappointed in my own weakness. I could never be whole...” He admitted out loud with the weight of his past deeds and his unpredictable future. He inhaled deeply as he ruffled his dark curls.

She narrowed her eyes in understanding, wetting her lips before speaking. “Jason. You’re stronger then you think. You can deal with this. Don’t let this ruin who you are and what we could have.” She whispered softly, words caught between mustered courage and steady resolve. Voicing the possibility of a ‘us’. There was no point denying their attraction at this point.

One moment he was standing there. Motionless. Then he was moving, moving towards her, closer, before he’s quite given his body permission to do so because he couldn’t just stand there and not hold her.

At that Jason stopped breathing for a moment and his eyes shot to her. He wrapped his arms around her frame, tightening a fraction. His eyes were filled with something Raven was unsure of how to describe even with her empathic abilities. It was a mixture of emotions she couldn’t keep up with. Something she’s seen in him before but no one else.

Surprise. Fear. Worry. But over all happiness. Yes happiness and divine peace.

He stared down at her, a rational protest rising in his throat, the terrified assertion that she can’t help him, she can’t put up with this side of him. The rage and the voices and his uncontrollable anger. But in her eyes he found the answer. She’d already made up her mind. As if she was saying ‘I choose you’. Him. The damaged not charming and righteous Dick.

She could feel Jason’s volatile emotions call to her, voice hoarse and raw from his injuries but distinct and sharp, piercing straight to her soul. Pleading with his spirit. “Please…Stay with me.” She automatically snaked her arms around his neck. Her touch. Merely touching her used to be enough but now he couldn’t get enough.

He had been terrified by what her touch had inspired in him at first, terrified of what he might be able to do to her body if she let him…The things he wanted ro do to her. But unable to stop thinking about it, craving it, his lips on her neck, his strong, hard body pressing hers into the wall of his apartment, not caring anymore about his own physical pain. He pressed a passionate kiss to her lips.

Jason had never believed in soulmates, that was folks tales for mindless romantics. This didn’t change his mind about the topic. One thing was certain, if there was a person whose edged fit his perfectly regardless of the roughness, that would be Raven. She was darkness herself but in his mind she was the sun encasing him in gentle warmth. The stars were meant to reflect in her eyes. If there was a heaven, Raven was the owner of his.

Small jayrae prompt for @alerialblu @ravenfan1242 @amaati @niahti @jasonrae117 @catyypss 💜💖

#jayrae #jason todd #red hood and the outlaws #dick grayson #teen titans #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #dc fandom #dc universe #raven roth #writeblr

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marchioness-caprina · 3 years

Text

You Changed But Still the Same

Pairings : Ex! Katsuki Bakugou x Ex! Reader.

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Cussing

Word Count : 3428

3rd Person's POV

A Year ago since that fateful day where everything ended and the only thing that's left were the memories and promises from the past. Y/n and Bakugou who were High school sweethearts had quite a past together but sometimes all the good things come to an end .

That's exactly what happened, Bakugou at some point in his life had to pick between two things , y/n or his Hero Career. He picked His Hero Career even though y/nl tried to desperately persuade him that it could work out. She tried her best to persuade Katsuki that They can grow Together.

Even though it was painful, Katsuki still stuck to his choice leaving everything behind . Leaving y/n with her heart that has been shattered, Leaving her to pick up all the broken pieces herself.

He had to pick his Hero career because he knew he needed to become stronger, strong enough to Be confident that He will be able to protect her in the future. Strong enough to flaunt her to the world without worrying how many villains would be after his lover. As surprising as it may seem his reason why he picked his career over her was because of her, not because he wanted to be number one... He'll admit that, it was his former goal but after meeting her everything changed.

He actually wanted to become a better version of himself because no matter how good he is, theres still a nagging feeling at the back of his head that says he does not deserve her because she deserves so much more.

Today was a special Day because Class 1-A was holding a reunion party. And Katsuki normally turns down events like this bit this time , he was excited because he knew y/n would be there. Now he was ready, Now he was confident, Now all he needed to do was to get his Girl back.

Y/n, She was never the same after that dreadful day. She never knew why she was Never Enough for Katsuki... She doesn't know why she's not a good enough reason to be picked. She never knew why He had to leave her in the dust, Hurt and alone. And honestly no matter how hard she tried to forget him. It never worked, She was still hung up on him like before and because of that. She hated him so much.

She started overworking herself doing more hero work than necessary since it's the only thing that could keep her mind away from him.

Her smile faded and she was never the same, she moved to another city because being in the same city where there's a possibility for her and Katsuki to work together is too painful for her.

She managed to rise to the hero rankings in the city she moved in. She was well known and villains feared her. But she started distancing herself from others, always taking on solo jobs and gradually turning colder by time.

It took a lot of persuading from the girls for her to eventually agree to this little reunion and she wasn't looking forward to it.

Because he was going to be there, it was already 6 and she was late since the agreed time to meet was 5 sharp bit she got caught up fighting Villains on her way . Of course the girls were furious but after hearing her reason they were much more understanding than expected.

They were supposed to meet in a Restaurant the boys booked all for their class and of course wearing something fancy was required because according to Momo they should ' Dress for the Occasion ' .

So of course y/n did try to make an effort to dress up because She wanted to prove to everyone that she was fine without Katsuki. Because back then when they broke up, Everything fell apart and she stopped caring about everything around her.

She loves the girls because they almost Wrestled Katsuki for hurting her , and some of the Boys even attempted to fight him because Y/n was a wreck back then.

But now look at her. She's not a narcissistic bitch but she really outdid herself. She wore a red sleeveless fishtail dress that clung onto her curves like it was her own skin, the dress had little crystal details that matched her hair. Her make up was Smoky and elegant and her lips were a crimson color of red. Her hair was curled on the ends and she did end up dyeing her hair to H/c, she also had a few accessories on, like the emerald necklace, a few bracelets she randomly picked out and a small Phoenix Hair clip.

She looked gorgeous and she could tell from the way passersby looked at her when she got out of her car right infront of the restaurant.

She walked towards the receptionist who was oogling on her figure.

Clearing her throat she caught the attention of the receptionist.

" I'm here for Denki Kaminari's Party " Y/n stated and the receptionist immediately stumbled towards the door opening it for her.

" This way ma'am "

" Thank you " Y/n thanked the man who started nodding his head nervously and she made her way inside.

The whole place was noisy and she could see her old classmates chatting and drinking the night away.

The first one to notice her was Momo.

" Oh my God Y/n!? Is that you " Momo exclaimed running towards y/n and giving the girl a tight hug.

The whole room was quiet, everyone's attention was directed towards y/n. She really was a head turner. The states she was getting was a bit overwhelming but she didn't mind. Someone in the room did Though.

" Woah! You really did dress to impress Missy! Where the hell have you been? " Mina joined in and y/n didn't hesitate to hug her as well.

" You're Drop Dead Gorgeous! We didn't even recognize you... I mean... Look at You! Damn " Hagakure complimented slapping y/n's ass.

" Hey keep your hands to yourself " Y/n muttered as she shoved Hagakure playfully.

" My goodness! I can't believe my eyes, Don't tell me you don't have a boyfriend!? It's kinda impossible for you Not to if you Look that Hot " Uraraka joined their little group and soon the boys also gathered around her to Either greet and hug her or comment on how she looks.

The attention she's getting was flattering but a bit suffocating.

" Ok, enough about me. How are you guys? " Y/n tried changing the subject but none of them were up for it.

" Well Duh, we all work in the same city and some of us gets paired up from Time to Time so there's nothing new about us that we didn't Know. You on the other hand moved to another fucking City and we barely have any contact with you so don't change the subject " Jiro stated and everyone seemed to fire their questions towards me one by one.

" So how are you? Are things good over there? I heard you ranked 2 in your city"

" Yeah everything is alright , things are pretty stressful though "

" You're pretty popular there! I see you on the news all the time "

" Er... Well... I can't even get some alone time without people trying to shove themselves to me "

As y/n was bombarded with questions a certain blonde male kept his gaze glued to her figure, she was gorgeous that's for sure and he could barely keep his eyes off her figure but that doesn't mean everyone else had to do that.

Even if they aren't together anymore. She is still considered to be his property and it's pissing him off that she didn't even try to acknowledge his existence. It was spissing him so much that she gave everyone a hug and not him. Why is she so happy talking to other men when he's right here waiting for her to finally look at him.

It's fucking irritating . She was beautiful... Too beautiful that he feels like someone else would take her if he even dares to look away.

It was painful to see how much she had grown without him. He's starting to regret his decision. Damn it. He knew he missed her but fuck. He didn't know he missed her to the point where it's actually painful to see her here but ignore him like he's nothing.

His mood was foul and everyone noticed, sure they were pissed that Bakugou Had the face to hurt y/n but they saw how hurt he was too, and one time during a small get together Bakugou started screaming her name and yelling why he left while sobbing angrily like a sick lunatic. And they finally understood why he made such a rash decision. It was because of his insecurities and nobody thought that this Haughty Hero was actually insecure about something.

And everyone felt bad for him because after y/n left he was a reckless Asshole who kept getting himself hurt over and over again as if he's pushing himself to the brink of death on purpose. Everyone knew he regretted his past actions and that's exactly why they were gonna help these two love sick puppies out.

" Hey! Let's play Seven Minutes in Heaven! " Denki suggested and everyone got the message.

" Really? Denki why would we play that here?" Y/n laughed but to her surprise everyone was in on it too.

" Yeah sounds fun! "

" I'll get the bottle! "

" Who's going first? "

____________________

Everyone was seated on the floor forming a circle.

" Ok I'll spin the bottle and if the bottle lands on you, you have to go in the closet with the person the end of the bottle is pointing towards. Simple as that " Kirishima explained and he started spinning the bottle.

" Hey y/n have you heard about the latest trend lately? " Momo asked y/n who's eyes we're torn away from the bottle and her attention was snapped towards Momo.

Sero moved fast and immediately pointed the bottle at y/n and Bakugou.

Bakugou saw the whole thing and he stared at his friends in disbelief.

" Kaachan.... I think you deserve a second chance " Izuku muttered and everyone gave Bakugou a thumbs up or a supporting look.

Bakugou was touched as he stared at everyone with thankful eyes but he was a prideful asshole so he turned his head away muttering.

" I don't need your help shitty extras " His comment made everyone chuckle.

" You better not ruin this Bakugou or else I'll poke your eyes out " Jiro threatened before she turned to y/n

" Y/n! You're going in the Closet with Bakugou! "

Y/n froze at the mention of Bakugou's name her eyes trailing down to ten bottle that was pointing at her and Katsuki.

" What? No" Y/n grumbled her tone filled with venom. Bakugou noticed her tone and it almost made him flinch.

" It's only seven minutes y/n...dont tell me you still love him that's why you refuse to do so " Denki stated slyly earning a menacing glare from the girl that made him shiver.

" I'll fucking do it and you better watch me you Prick " Y/n stood up from her place stomping her way towards the closet, opening it as she pointed inside her gaze landing on Bakugou.

" Get in so we could get this over with " She hissed before stomping inside Bakugou who was a bit astonished by how fierce she had become. But nonetheless he followed her inside the closet closing it as he stepped inside.

It was quiet, far too quiet but he was determined to change that.

" Y/n...I-"

" Shut up" Y/n cut him off sharply and he can't believe he was this sensitive when it came to her because damn it hurt when she said it like that.

" I'm sorry... I know it's not gonna fucking Cut all the shit I put you-"

" You fucking bastard I said shut up " Y/n growled but Bakugou continued.

" I was the biggest idiot in the world --"

" Bakugou. Fuck off. "

" Please just lis--"

" Did you listen to me?! Did you listen to me when I begged you to not end things between us? Did you know how much pain I felt losing you? Because you didn't have the fucking balls to choose me? Do you know how worthless I felt? I felt like I wasn't a good enough reason for you to choose me. I felt like I wasn't enough, because you never looked back on your decision and just kept going leaving me behind ... To pick myself up and pretend like nothing happened. Stop this Bullshit Katsuki, Let's just pretend like we're strangers causing its better that way---" Y/n was cut off with Katsuki's harsh tone.

" Don't you dare Fucking Go there woman! I'm a poor excuse of a boyfriend I know! And I regret the day I made the decision in leaving you because everyday is like walking in an eternity of hell without you.. I missed you so damn much... I missed your laugh... Your smug smile... Everything... I missed you! You wanna know why I ended things? It was because I felt weak, I felt like you deserve better so don't you dare say that you're not enough! Because you're more than enough! I was scared that villains may come after me and they'll take you because I wasn't strong enough! That's why I dedicated my time in trying to be better because the day I'll be ready is the day I'll claim you back . Today is the day.... And you have no idea how painful every passing day is for me without you.... And you turned me into this pathetic shitty love struck idiot who becomes soft and mushy when you're around!... I'm pouring out my feelings here because this may be the last! And I'm not good at this shit you dumbass! You knew that from the start but... I'm begging you Please... Give me another chance Because I Fucking Love you" Bakugou's voice broke at the end of his sentence and y/n was conflicted.

Was this why he left? It still doesn't count for what he did! He hurt her yet why does she feel so happy to hear him say that? Why is her heart beating so fast when he said those three words she never knew she craved. Why is her mind and heart urging her to give him another chance? Simple she knew the answer and it was because she never stopped loving him at all. Even though she hated him, she still loved him the same.

The room was filled with silence and y/n couldn't mutter another word. She wanted to say Yes. But her pride was getting in the way.

Bakugou was losing his patience, growling in frustration he lunged himself at her pinning her to the wall with both of her hands pinned above her head by Katsuki's hand.

" Screw it Bitch, I miss you too much to Just Let this shit slide. If you Kiss back you're Fucking Mine Again you Hear me!? " Bakugou yelled and he didn't give y/n any time to protest because his lips were already on hers.

Kissing her lips with Vigor and Neediness. It almost seemed desperate , he continued Kissing the girl with everything he had, devouring her lips with his and it didn't take long for y/n's pride to hold out because but broke the second Katsuki's Lips touched hers.

She kissed back with the same intensity. Katsuki let go of her hands and her hands immediately flew up to his neck pulling him closer as her fingers ran through his hair, she dug her fingers through his hair tugging on it desperately . Katsuki's hands were roaming her body in any way they could until finally stopping on her waist.

Fuck he missed her so much, he missed her so Fucking much and right now. He's gonna savor every moment of this. He missed these lips and how she kissed him.

If Oxygen wasn't much of a problem then neither of them would have pulled back.

Panting and breathless Katsuki pressed his forehead along hers a deep chuckle vibrating from his chest.

" So.... Was that a Yes? " Y/n could her the smugness of his voice making her growl at him.

" I Fucking kissed you back didn't I? " She snapped rolling her eyes.

" Well... I didn't quite feel it... Oh well, Looks like we're gonna have to do it again " Katsuki smirked and he was about to dive in for another round but Kaminari had slammed the door open making the two flinch.

" Times up---oh" Kaminari grinned as Katsuki and Y/n glared daggers at him.

" You shitty Pikachu! Can't you see we're busy here!? " Katsuki roared as he tried grabbing Denki who immediately ran away form the door.

With a sigh y/n dragged Katsuki out of the closet and everyone was looking at them with playful eyes, some even giving Katsuki a suggestive wink.

Y/n's eyes trailed up to Katsuki's face and she paled almost immediately seeing the red lipstick smudge on his lips.

" Katsuki you Fucking asshole! You smudged my lipstick! " Y/n barked smacking Katsuki's head and Katsuki was fats to react.

" Haah!? I didn't hear you complaining when I was sucking your lips woman! " Katsuki barked back.

" How the fuck was I supposed to complain when you were practically shoving your lips towards mine!? " Y/n said in defense as she raised her hand about to smack Katsuki's head again but he caught her hand .

Katsuki bent down and slung y/n over his shoulder carrying the angry girl.

" Shut up woman, I'll buy you a whole mall of lipstick if it makes you feel any better, and you extras!... Well... I'm only gonna say this once... T-Thank you " Katsuki muttered and everyone cheered and teased the blonde boy who was now cussing everyone for laughing at him.

" Put me down! " Y/n yelled pinching Katsuki's back but it had no effect because the boy didn't even flinch.

" We're heading out early! " Katsuki yelled but the entrance was blocked by the girls.

" Umm, No! We were the ones who put in a lot of effort in bringing her here Bakugou! You can't just take her away! And everyone missed her you asshole! " Jiro growled and Katsuki was immediately pissed off.

" She's Mine! Of course I can take her away! " Katsuki barked glaring daggers at the girls.

" Well looks like we're gonna have to fight in order to see who's keeping her then " Momo stated as she pulled out a staff from her arm.

Y/n was snatched away from Katsuki's shoulder by none other than Izuku who had a smirk on his face.

" Sorry Kaachan but we wanna hang out with her too" Izuku smiled and it only angered the blonde even more.

" You Fucking Extras! Give her back! "

" Why don't you guys just calm down and let me Go Home! " Y/n yelled throwing her arms up helplessly.

" No! " Everyone responded almost immediately.

" I believe we can't do that y/n because Tonight you're the prize for whoever gets to take you out of the door first! " Kids yelled and everyone was excited except for y/n who knew this wasn't gonna end well and she knows for a fact that this restaurant will become nothing but a pile of debris and rocks once everything is over.

" Oh it's on! " Uraraka jumped in excitement.

" I'll Fucking kill all of you Extras and Take back what's mine! " Katsuki yelled angrily sparks coming out of his hands.

And Y/n was right, by the end of the day the whole restaurant was destroyed, everyone was injured the moment yeh fight ensued and nobody won because y/n stepped out of the restaurant herself.

#bnha x reader #BNHA #Boku no hero academia #MHA #BNHA Imagine #Bakugou x Reader #Katsuki x Reader #Bakugou Katsuki #xReader #Ground Zero #Y/n

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silversatin2105 · 3 years

Text

Shaman King fic: Can you help me ?(Akina Asakura (my Hao’s daughter FC) Asking for directions to the Asakura house) CH 5

CHAPTER END-TO BE CONTINUED IN REVELATIONS OF THE SOUL

As Akina slept from her ordeal she traversed the realm of her mind looking for answers, She wanted to know who the girl who attacked her was and more importantly their intentions, At this moment it felt like a battle of knowledge as anything would help her reach the truth.

After searching the realm of her mind for what felt ages, Akina comes upon the image of a lit torch, An odd lit torch as It burned whist the rain fell around her mind, more to the point the torch was an odd shade of red, Akina approached the flame as it began to speak to her.

“Its been a while, Lady Asakura” The flame spoke to the young shaman as it turned into a spirit phoenix, Blazing wings spreading from its visage covering the floor with scorch marks.

“How do I know you?” Akina questioned the flaming phoenix as it preened its feathers making fresh scorch marks upon the land, the phoenix let out a sarcastic laugh before gazing at Akina again with a knowing look.

“We have been a part of each other since you were very young; I and my twin were gifted to you and your sister by Hao on your third birthday, each of us integrating with your very soul and since then we in someway became a part of you” The phoenix explained looking at the wide eyed shaman in front of her as the phoenix took human form, She looked like Akina in all ways but she had fiery red hair, crimson silted eyes and a red aura.

“You look like me, how is that possible” Akina went on to speak before being bonked on the head for her stupid question as the phoenix crossed her arms and fixed her kimono, Akina winced from the bonk and then looked up at the phoenix.

“Have you not been listening, In essence I am you a flame sealed in your soul, to do so one must perform a forbidden ritual to combine two souls, Most of the time it fails and nothing comes of it but you and your twin intergraded with us, I entered into this willingly but my counterpart didn’t she over took Rei and plans on using her to overthrow The shaman king Hao, What will you do? Join her or defy her” The phoenix asked looking at Akina with a deep growl hoping for the right answer.

“Alright, Alright I get it but your making it sound like I have to kill her to stop her, I will not do that, I refuse to take the life of another “ Akina sternly remarked looking at the phoenix as the humanoid phoenix took flight charging for Akina taking her by the neck, unlocking the seal on her memories.

Akina screamed in pain as moments from her past flowed into her head, Moments of her and Rei training as girls and in each Rei not only beating her but taking it too far, Of the nights Rei would demand Akina join her on her plan, Of Rei treating the local spirits as nothing but tools and of Reis plan to burn the world to ashes and begin anew, Rei only letting Akina on the plan if she swore full allegiance to her, It all came to a head in one memory as Hao ordered Rei to leave the training room as Rei had burned Akinas back.

Memory after memory showed Akina the truth of her sister, until that fateful training session that ended in Rei packing to leave, She would demand that her twin leave with her to pursue her path of destruction, A plan that was halted as Hao ambushed Rei and sealed her away underground, The last thing Akina hears in the recollection of her memories is Hao speaking a chant whist holding a hand on her head, And after that all future memories were as if she was an only child.

“No way, Father did all that….” Akina spoke in dismay backing away from the phoenix as the phoenix looked down on the young shaman in her presence, Ready to attack at any moment, She showed her the truth of her past now she wanted to know if Akina had the resolve.

With that began the hellish battle of wills within Akina, Sparks flew towards her as Akina dodged them, One by one the flames spread within the realm of Akinas mind leaving only a ring of un burned ground between her and the phoenix, With one more charge the battle had been decided.

“Enough I will not kill my sister, I will not as it isn’t her, Instead ill banish your twin from her soul” Akina resolved as her and the phoenix clashed one last time before the phoenix took human form again, with a smile the Phoenix covered both her and Akina in red flames.

“I see your resolve and will endeavor to help you and besides I had the same idea, I will help you on the grounds that you free me the moment our task is done we phoenixes must return to the natural order, now what do you say Lady Asakura do we have a deal?” The phoenix asked the shaman as they both were covered in flames.

“I accept these terms now come to me and burn away the lies so that only truth remains, Set fire to the rebellion your sister has wrought and secure the future for none shamans and shamans alike” Akina vowed as in reality her hospital room became engulfed in flames, The flames burning all but her and cauterizing her wounds, Eyes open Akina stood as the emblem of the phoenix adorned her body.

“We have work to do” Akina spoke out wrapping herself with a blanket from her hospital room, Yuko who kept an eye on her looked at her with wide eyes and questioned what had just transpired.

“I am okay Yuko I know the truth now come with me” Akina ordered in a determined tone leaving with her, disappearing into the night as she would search for her father and the way to undo what had been done to her and her sister.

And with that a frozen fate had began to thaw as blood was to fight blood, Who would be the victor though, Who would win between the twin flames.

(This part will conclude part one of the Akina and Rei trilogy, The next chapter begins phase two and this will be written in due time, Till then please enjoy this chapter)

CHAPTER END-TO BE CONTIUED IN REVELATIONS OF THE SOUL

#shaman king #hao asakura #yoh asakura #fan character #fan fic #writers gonna write

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

Text

the way it was - chapter 40

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: graphic depictions of violence (updated)

read on ao3

1915

i'm not afraid of burning bridges

'cause i know they're gonna light my way

like a phoenix, from the ashes

welcome to the future it's a new day

The fight against Father was not what Riza had been expecting. Roy had briefly described the situation as they were lifted into the sky by his alchemy – that they needed to drain Father’s Philosopher’s Stone and the many lives contained within it in order to beat him. Numerous souls being trapped inside one man was unfathomable, however after learning about homunculi, “world ending” plots, and one being’s desire to become God – however briefly that had happened – Riza didn’t think it was too far out the realm of possibility at this point in the day.

Riza had been Roy’s eyes, guiding his attacks and gauging distances for their target. She let him know what was coming their way and when to defend against it. It had been difficult as her vision wavered with exhaustion, but Riza pushed through. With a quick slap to her cheeks to perk herself up, Riza forced herself to keep it together and continue fighting.

After a rather large stream of fire from Roy, Father sent it back their way with no mercy.

“Incoming attack, dead ahead!”

Roy clapped his hands and dropped like a stone, slamming them into the ground. Riza kept her grip on his shoulder, so her body jerked as he moved, but managed to maintain continuous contact. After the sharp movement her head spun, and a burst of light-headedness almost overwhelmed her. Through the fog in her vision Riza saw a wall of stone pop up from the ground as a shield. It sent the incoming flames off their path, dispersing them around and away from them.

“Nicely done,” Riza complimented, feeling relief relax her shoulders as the force of the flames stirred her hair and loose jacket. She hadn’t even had time to explain what was coming, but Roy had saved them both, as well as Major Armstrong, from being consumed by the fire.

Roy smirked and thanked her, remaining low. Once Father’s attention had been diverted away by someone else, Riza patted his shoulder twice, indicating they were about to move. Wearily, Riza steadied herself with a hand against Roy’s chest and one on his shoulder.

“You okay?” He picked up her slight sway before they started to move, as well as how hard she was gipping onto him. It was much needed to keep her upright. He was a pillar of support that kept her moving forward.

“Fine,” she nodded, starting to move.

Riza guided them around the wall of stone, so they’d have a clearer view of the fight. Roy’s arm slid around her back, holding on as tightly as he could. More support. As they walked, he assisted with keeping her upright while she assisted with keeping him on a safe path. They worked together fluidly ducking out of the way so Major Armstrong could demolish the wall with an enthusiastic yell and alchemise it himself, turning it into an attack.

“Are you really okay?” Roy prompted her again. It was not out of disbelief towards her, but probably fear of the unknown in his current state.

“Tried, but okay,” Riza reassured. “You don’t trust me?” She made sure to pat his chest affectionately and keep her voice light so Roy could hear she was only joking, as a means to lighten the mood.

“On the contrary, there’s no one I trust more.” He faltered as Riza tugged him gently to the side, prompting him to sidestep to avoid a large stone. “That’s why I asked you to be my eyes, after all.”

Riza angled her head to look at him, smiling.

“However, I know what you can be like, Mrs. Mustang,” he teased. The corners of his lips tugged upwards slightly in a smile.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Her quip was quickly forgotten and before Roy could open his mouth to reply, Riza pulled him up short.

“Debris, incoming! From the left. Fifty feet in the air.”

Roy clapped and dropped low again without missing a beat. Riza followed him, crashing painfully onto the concrete as her knees almost gave out. Both palms hit the gravel, scraping her skin roughly as it bit into her skin. Darkness consumed her as a sheet of stone rose up and covered their heads. It extended far over their bodies, much larger than was necessary, however, Riza appreciated it, nonetheless. There was the sound of gravel as it rained down upon their shelter, followed by a loud thud above them. Riza looked over, noticing Roy’s drawn expression and how he cringed at the loud noise. She tried not to think about how and where that could have hit them if she hadn’t noticed it in time.

“Are we okay?”

“Wait here.” She squeezed his shoulder as she passed by, crawling towards the edge of the shelter he’d made.

“Riza?”

It was much larger than she realised, and it took a while to reach the edge, especially in her tired state. Her muscles protested and shook as she moved along the concrete. Sharp stones bit into her palms, irritating her skin.

“Riza?” Roy prompted her a second time, impatience and concern clouding his voice.

“I’m fine,” she called over her shoulder. “We’re fine. The shelter’s a lot larger than anticipated. I’m still crawling to the edge.”

Looking out, Riza found they were safe. Her tired legs quivered as she fell to the side and sat on the ground, before shuffling back over to Roy.

“I made it too large?”

“After that thud we heard, nothing could be too big,” she reassured.

“I suppose you’re right,” he chuckled.

“The expanse was much appreciated,” Riza reassured, placing a hand on his back. “Head straight forward. You’re safe and there’s nothing in the way. Just stay low so you don’t bang your head.” The ceiling above them wasn’t too low, however, she didn’t need to add a potential concussion onto their already too long list of injuries.

She eased herself out after Roy. A heavy hand was placed on the roof of the shelter to help Riza lift herself to her feet.

“What’s our next move?”

“Everyone’s attacking with alchemy,” Riza explained as she looked around the battlefield. “They’re draining Father’s power, but they need more.”

“Then let’s give them more,” Roy smirked.

She nodded. “I’ll give you the signal.” Riza grasped his elbow and turned Roy so he was facing Father directly. “He’s dead ahead and unmoving.”

“Do I need to hold back?”

“No,” she replied firmly, giving his elbow a squeeze. “Give the bastard all you’ve got.”

Roy snorted, muttering it would be his pleasure as he wrapped an arm around Riza’s waist. She rested her hand on his chest, moving the other to his lower back, sliding it underneath his uniform jacket, as she watched for an opening.

Another round of shells and a boulder hit Father’s shield but didn’t pierce through. Izumi transmuted the ground to rise up, high into the air, forming a cone around his body. Father didn’t move, didn’t react. He remained still.

“Now, Roy!”

The fire burned so hot and so bright that Riza took an instinctive step back. Her eyes screwed up after the blinding flash of flames. As the light eased the fire became a violent vortex inside Izumi’s transmuted cage, towering high into the sky. Embers fluttered on the wind across the battlefield as everyone cringed, taking brief cover from Roy’s alchemy.

It still hadn’t been enough. Riza’s stomach dropped.

Nothing was enough.

Except…

The attacks continued and Riza watched on as Edward approached, almost striking Father in the head with a well placed kick. However, Father had to block Edward’s leg physically, rather than using his shield.

“Anything?” He was hopeful, but Roy’s tone was still reserved as he asked for confirmation on his attack.

“It hasn’t been enough, but –”

Edward was thrown off to the side, landing in a heap painfully after he rolled to a stop. Riza’s heart jumped into her throat and her grip on Roy tightened as she feared for the teen and his safety. He’d already lost his automail arm, thanks to Father. She didn’t want him to lose anything else.

Black tendrils of smoke started to escape from Father’s mouth. He clutched his head, body bowing forward and writhing in pain.

“He can’t keep the power of God he claims to have in check anymore!” Hohenheim’s cry echoed around them as Father continued to struggle to keep a hold of his power. Red sparks jumped around his body as they all stared in disbelief and horror. An eye appeared inside Father’s mouth, staring out at them all.

Father screamed as the light reached a crescendo. A pulse of energy pushed out from his body, blasting back everything in its path. People went flying into the air with a cry and Riza didn’t even have time to warn Roy of what was coming when it hit. Their grip on each other loosened with the surprise of the sudden attack, as they were knocked back in the shockwave of energy.

Riza hit the ground painfully, landing on her back. The wind had been knocked out of her, causing her to gasp and desperately try to refill her lungs with air. Rolling onto her uninjured side as she coughed, Riza searched for Roy. He’d landed a few feet away from her.

“Riza?” Roy coughed as he lifted himself slowly to his knees with a groan. His expression was twisted into a grimace of pain and his back was hunched over, his body curling inwards as his arm clutched at his stomach. “Riza!”

She couldn’t even reply to him. She tried, but still felt like she couldn’t breathe. Roy started to crawl in her direction, following the sound of her heaving breaths. His arm never left his stomach as he moved and his shoulder dropped every so often, giving out underneath his weight.

“I’m okay,” she tried, but it was nothing more than a croak in between gasps.

Roy’s hand reached for her calf, which he clamped onto immediately. He ran it up to her hip, over her waist, then to her shoulder.

“Riza?” His hands fretted over her, his expression pulled into deep concern.

“I’m fine,” she finally managed.

Roy’s hand slid up to her neck, his touch gentle as his thumb stroked her cheek.

“The wind was knocked out of me.”

“Apart from that, are you all right?”

Riza grimaced as she assessed her injuries. Nothing felt too hurt or out of place. Her back hurt from the impact but that was it. “Sore back,” she revealed, “but it’ll be okay.”

“Do we have time to take a minute?”

Riza glanced around, noticing others rising to their feet slowly and nodded, a movement which Roy felt. “We do.”

“Easy,” he soothed.

Her elbow supported her weight as she shifted to a half-seated position. Roy’s hand moved to rest on her back, taking some of her weight, but the arm across his stomach remained in place.

“Are you okay?” Her breath left her in a wheeze as she tried to speak louder.

He grimaced. “My old wound is playing up. I think I landed on something, but I’m not entirely sure.”

“Let me see.” Riza shifted and sat up properly to take a look at him. Gently, she pried Roy’s fingers away. “There’s no blood.” She looked back in the direction of where he’d landed. There was some gravel littering the ground accompanied by some larger stones. “It looks like it might’ve been a stone. Something blunt, but solid.”

“It certainly felt that way,” Roy chuckled, but it was pained.

They helped each other to their feet before they were halted by a chilling call.

“Al, no!”

Riza’s head snapped up in alarm as she heard Edward’s cry.

Lying on his back, Alphonse’s arms were raised into the air, where he clapped. That one clap seemed to echo around the whole area, signalling a finality that Riza didn’t particularly understand but could definitely feel.

Blue light consumed Alphonse completely, expanding outwards, however, this was much gentler than Father’s had been.

“Alphonse!”

Riza looked on in disbelief and with fear, after hearing Edward’s anguished cry.

“Was that –?” Roy never even finished his sentence and Riza didn’t think she’d be able to reply to him anyway, because Edward Elric miraculously had his arm back. The automail was gone. He surged forwards and ripped the rebar from his arm, attacking Father without mercy.

Everyone cheered him on, urging him to keep fighting. A true show of moral support for the teenager who was squaring up against the one person who had tried to kill every single one of them.

“Edward!” Riza offered her own cry, urging him onwards to beat Father. Her heart was in her throat, thinking that he finally had a chance to stop this, to put an end to Father and his scheme. Her pride for him surged inside her chest, wishing, and hoping that his alchemy attacks would be enough to stop him once and for all.

“Fullmetal!”

Riza turned to look at Roy. He was looking in the direction of the fight, but all he had to go on was the yells around him. She gently placed a hand in between his shoulder blades, rubbing his back slowly.

“Riza, what is it?” His head briefly turned to acknowledge her presence but returned to face ahead, towards the battle. “What’s happening to Fullmetal?”

“He’s fighting Father,” she relayed. “It’s a fist fight. Everyone’s cheering him on.”

“Is… Is he winning?”

“Looks that way,” she confirmed, almost hesitantly, in fear of jinxing Edward’s chances.

“Do we need to assist?”

“Not right now. But we’ll stand by.” Riza stepped closer to him, moving her hand to his shoulder as Roy wrapped an arm around her waist. She leaned on him for the moment, giving herself a brief moment of rest.

Riza watched as Edward Elric struck Father again and again, until finally, Father was beaten. After a powerful strike to his stomach, red streaks escaped from Father’s new body made of carbon - thanks to Greed’s sacrifice. What seemed like thousands of souls raced into the sky above, dissipating the higher they climbed, until they were gone. Father staggered before dark hands sprang forth from the hole in the centre of his torso. He screamed in desperation as he fought against their restraints, but there was nothing he could do. The small hands consumed his body whole, leaving nothing in their wake. He winked away into nothingness.

The world was silent as everyone basked in Father’s defeat.

“Did he beat him?” Roy’s voice was quiet as he voiced the question. The arm around Riza tightened its grip a fraction as he waited for an answer.

“Yes…” Wonder clouded Riza’s tone as she was suddenly flooded with relief.

It was finally over.

There was movement around Edward as people began to approach him. His father was speaking to him, but Riza didn’t know what about. With an anguished cry, Edward looked over towards her and Roy. Riza wasn’t sure what he was searching for in that moment – they were too far away to make out any distinct conversation – but Riza trusted him. She nodded once in encouragement.

Whatever he needed to do, she’d support it.

“What’s happening?”

Riza didn’t want to tell Roy, to reveal what sacrifices had been made in order to defeat Father, but she couldn’t keep the truth from him.

“Alphonse… Al is… gone.”

“Gone?” Roy was immediately alarmed. His body tensed.

“He – He sacrificed himself and returned to the gate. I don’t think he’s bonded to his armour anymore.” That thought terrified Riza, but she exhaled slowly, willing herself to remain calm. Alphonse was incredibly smart and would have known what he was doing. She placed her trust and faith in him, as well as his brother, knowing what they were capable of.

“What?”

“Come on,” she encouraged, sensing Roy’s anxiety. “Let’s go over and see them.”

Roy’s feet were moving immediately, walking forwards with purpose and confidence. Once Riza had caught up she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder before sliding it down to his elbow. Carefully, she guided him around the debris and breaks in the concrete.

Edward was sketching something on the ground by the time they arrived. The piece of rebar scraped along the stone, sometimes catching, and squeaking horribly enough to make Riza wince.

They were both silent as Edward drew a transmutation circle.

She didn’t particularly want him to go ahead with it. After hearing Edward being referred to a sacrifice and his disappearance, she just wanted him to be safe… But Riza trusted Edward and his abilities. He knew more about alchemy than she did, and knew his ultimate goal was to get his and Alphonse’s bodies back. Whatever he had planned, it would work towards achieving that, Riza was sure.

After a flash of light, Edward was gone. Riza tried her hardest not to panic. This was the second time Edward had gone to the gate and with Riza’s own personal experience of someone going to the gate, it was not one she wanted to witness again or wish on anyone else.

The payoff, despite Riza’s fears, was certainly worth it.

Another flash had her shielding her eyes, but when they opened, Edward, and his brother Alphonse – not in a suit of armour, but in a real, human body – were sitting before them.

“What happened?”

“It’s… It’s Alphonse. He’s…” Riza blinked at the grinning face of the young man before her.

“He’s what?”

“He’s back in his body.” The smile that spread across Riza’s face almost split it in two. Slightly dazed still that she was finally looking upon Alphonse Elric in the flesh, Riza slid her hands underneath Roy’s black overcoat. His arms lowered from her body automatically so she could remove the piece of clothing from his shoulders. “I need your jacket.”

Roy didn’t protest and proceeded to shrug himself out of it.

She stepped forward and held it out to Edward. He paused as he gazed upon his brother’s face and turned, showing Riza everything she needed to know about how elated he was to see Alphonse in the flesh again. His eyes were filled with tears, but they never fell. His grin wobbled on his face as emotion overwhelmed him, but when he set eyes on Riza he inhaled sharply, sucking in a breath as he tried to compose himself.

“Here,” she offered warmly. Riza gave Edward a proud smile, handing over Roy’s jacket.

Edward took it gratefully and wrapped it around Alphonse’s small form. It dwarfed him, but it was him. It was Alphonse.

They’d done it.

Those two kids had really done it.

Riza laughed quietly to herself as she slipped her arm around Roy’s back. She placed her head on his shoulder as she held him, blinking away tears.

Roy pressed a kissed to the top of her head “Is everyone safe?” His question was quiet, spoken in a breath so only she could hear him.

Riza nodded against him. “They’re okay.”

Alphonse laughed and Riza felt Roy’s head jerk up as he listened carefully, recognising the sound and noticing how it wasn’t distorted by hollow metal.

“They’re both back.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the aftermath of the battle, those who were well enough to keep working assisted with assessing and moving the injured. Both Roy and Riza were ushered into a hastily thrown up medical tent so they could finally be seen to about their injuries.

Roy sat on a chair by her bedside. Both of his elbows rested upon his knees and his head was down, facing the floor, as they waited for a medic.

She’d been given priority status. Being a civilian was a pain because Roy could pull that excuse and get Riza help faster than anyone else. No one wanted to argue with the man who’d successfully staged a coup either, so the urgent request was undisputed. Riza huffed quietly to herself. There was no doubt in Riza’s mind that her injuries were serious - she was well aware of the fact she’d almost died today - however there must have been others who needed immediate medical attention before her. She’d seen the result of the fight with her own eyes, seen the bodies. Riza would feel guilty taking up a space in place of someone who needed it more.

There was no use in arguing with Roy though. Once sitting on the cot assigned to her, Riza had removed her jacket as instructed by the trainee medic and pulled aside her shirt as best she could, exposing her injured neck to the world. Roy had fumbled to find her shoulders once she was settled and gently pushed, urging her to lie down. Automatically her mouth had opened to fight it, to insist she was okay and could manage, but his brow had been furrowed with such deep concentration as he felt out the dimensions of the bed with his foot – probably worrying he’d push her off the edge – that Riza just situated herself on it comfortably and lay down.

Lying there, her head spun often. The blood loss was hitting her in waves and hard enough sometimes that it made her whole world blur. However, she fought the urge to let her eyes droop closed like they so desperately wanted to. Roy had asked her to be his eyes and losing consciousness would mean that would disappear for him. She didn’t want him to be left alone.

A sigh left her husband making Riza’s head turn on the bed. It didn’t move far. There was the distinctive feeling of her flesh moving that made Riza pause and bite her teeth in discomfort. It felt like the skin of her neck was moving against itself in a way that was not natural. As though the wound was open and gaping, open to the elements and the dusty air of Central. Forcing the thought from her mind, Riza let out a slow, quiet breath to calm herself. The urge to reach up and touch her skin, just to make sure it was still stitched together, made Riza’s fingers twitch. Casting the disconcerting feeling aside, Riza tried to think about anything else.

Remembering his sigh, Riza tried to watch Roy out the corner of her eye as best she could. She was worried about him. He would be just as battered and bruised as she was. Not to mention he’d been stabbed through both of his hands. Physically, there were no issues with his eyes. Truth had taken his vision away. That was it. Riza’s heart sank as she realised that he’d never be able to set his eyes on their children again. He wouldn’t physically get to see Mia or Maes grow up, grow taller, or witness them succeeding in anything with his own two eyes. The thought was sudden and unbidden, bringing along with it a wave of tears that made her nose run as one escaped her lids and fell into her hair. She tried to remain quiet. Roy would only worry if she didn’t, and she had no way of articulating any of her emotions after the day they’d had.

However, she failed. At the sound of a sniff, Roy’s head jerked up. He searched in her direction with concerned eyes as he tried to determine what was the cause of her upset.

“Riza?”

“I’m fine,” she reassured, breathing out slowly as she got a hold of herself. Being so exhausted was wearing her thin. It was breaking her down.

His hand reached over for her, searching for contact. Riza grasped it, feeling him holding on for dear life.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he begged her quietly. His voice caught in his throat as he spoke.

It broke her heart. He’d always been very attentive and noticed a lot about her, even the minute changes in her mood or expression. They’d been together for so long that Riza found herself feeling the same way as him, easily picking out his moments of stress or worry. Now that was all gone for him.

“I’m all right, I promise. I’ve just been doing some thinking.”

“About the kids?”

Riza froze, and Roy noticed. Shifting in his seat, he moved closer and swiped his thumb over the top of her hand. The bandages across his palms were coarse against her skin, but his fingers were the touch she remembered.

“I was thinking about them too,” Roy admitted.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine –”

“I would always want to talk about it with you, Riza,” he interrupted softly. “No matter how hard it may be. I…” He coughed, then swallowed thickly. “I keep thinking about Mia’s smile,” he frowned, “Maes’ too, as well as yours. I keep trying to picture them in my head, but it doesn’t seem right. It feels like a figment of my imagination, like a false picture. And I… I want to see them again. Just to check.”

Sorrow engulfed her. Tears collected in the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Roy.”

It surprised Riza to see him shrug. “It is what it is, I suppose,” he stated grimly. His expression was pulled tight though, indicating he was lying. The muscles of his brow trembled before relaxing with a heavy sigh.

“Roy…”

“I should’ve gotten so much worse in this life,” he scoffed. “This,” he gestured to his eyes, “is a punishment, I suppose.”

“It still wasn’t right for them to force you to open the gate so Father could try and kill everyone,” Riza reminded him. “Plus, you’re still needed in this country.”

His blind eyes lifted to meet hers, but they weren’t on her face. They were looking just above her head on the bed.

“You successfully staged a coup and took down a corrupt power, one that was trying to kill all of this country’s citizens. You had a dream, remember? We’re not there yet. This was only the beginning.”

“I don’t know if I can get there blind,” Roy replied gently, trying to soften the blow for her - or for himself. “I had a vision,” he chuckled darkly, “and now it has been taken away. Quite literally. How kind of Truth,” he scoffed, casting his eyes down to the floor.

Riza struggled to sit up in the bed. Her neck ached, the muscles shaking with fatigue, and her head grew woozy as blood rushed there.

“What are you doing?” He’d sensed and heard her movements. Roy’s brows pulled together in disapproval.

“Come here,” she commanded.

“Riza –”

“Come here,” she repeated calmly, tugging him towards her gently by his hand.

Huffing, Roy stood and took a tentative step. Patiently, Riza guided him over to the cot, making sure he was sitting comfortably by her side. Her weight leaned heavily against his side as he snaked an arm around her back.

“We’re both alive,” Riza stated, eyes fluttering closed to relish in the warmth he provided. “We’re both physically able to walk and talk.”

“Except you shouldn’t be,” he muttered, referencing her insistence that she was all right.

She nudged him gently with her weight, a slow smile spreading across her face. “No, I shouldn’t be. Not anymore, anyway. But I couldn’t let the team down,” she smirked.

“You were extremely helpful in that final fight against Father. I feared I would’ve hit our own soldiers if it had just been myself.”

“Happy to be of assistance, Colonel.”

“I ought to promote you to a Lieutenant,” he added thoughtfully, angling his head so his cheek came to rest upon it. “Make you my aide full time. And Hayate too. That pup was invaluable today. He has a nose for homunculi, who knew?”

“I bet that would’ve been useful to discover beforehand,” Riza snickered.

“Oh, absolutely! I would’ve taken him to the office and let him loose to see if he could sniff them out for me,” Roy joked. “It would’ve saved me so much time and effort.”

“You’re just lazy.”

“… Maybe.”

Riza snorted, enjoying hearing his amusement as well. They laughed quietly together on that bed, both alive. Knowing that everything he’d work towards over the past year was over… It was surreal. Despite the tumultuous storm of emotions and fatigue brewing inside of her, one emotion that stuck out the most in that moment was relief. They were alive. They’d won. The plan to stop Father had succeeded and they were both still here to see through the aftermath.

“It’s all over…”

“I know,” Roy agreed. “It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished, Roy.”

“Most of it is thanks to you.”

A proud smile fought its way onto her face.

“I just listened.”

“And that help was invaluable. Your input has always been a massive help to me, and I want to hear it every time I come up with a plan. It kept me on the right path and kept me moving forward.” His head cocked to the side in thought. “I really should enlist you. You’d be a big help at the office. I could probably promote you straight to a Lieutenant too after all your help today,” he tempted.

Riza hummed tiredly to herself.

“Get some rest, Riza.” Roy’s body turned slightly and a hand ran up her arm slowly to find her face. Once he did so, a kiss was pressed against her forehead.

“I will,” she reassured, feeling a wave of exhaustion roll over her entire being, now that her eyes were finally closed, and the adrenaline had worn off.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The wound on her neck was throbbing in time with her pulse and it would be so easy just to stop fighting and let go, give into her fatigue, and let sleep claim her.

“Sleep.” Roy’s command was soothing, lulling her further into unconsciousness while reassuring that he would be right there beside her, every step of the way.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Reality returned to Riza slowly. She didn’t remember dreaming of much. There were fleeting memories of Mia and Maes’ faces as she slept peacefully, but not enough for her to grab onto and remember why they were there. It was a comfort, seeing them again. Now, in the land of waking, that comfort was replaced by longing. She wanted to see them. Riza wanted to hear Mia’s tales from her holiday with her grandmother and see Maes’ little hands reach for her with a grin, begging to be held close.

Her entire body ached. That was the first thing she noticed. Every muscle felt like it had been through the wringer and then some more. They protested as she tried to shift on the hard mattress below her back, a light grunt erupting from her throat.

“Riza?”

It took a moment to realise someone was calling to her. Her head turned to the side automatically and Riza instantly regretted it. A sharp pain suddenly flared there, making her hiss loudly. She gasped, squeezing her eyes tightly closed as a hand clumsily lifted to protect the area of injury.

“What’s wrong?”

Roy was fretting. Slowly, Riza turned her whole torso to look over at him, grimacing at her aches and pains, and opened her eyes. His hands were ringing together in his lap. His eyes were wide and staring in her direction, flicking back and forth.

“I’m all right,” she soothed, but it didn’t lessen the nervous energy so apparent within him. “I turned my head too quickly.”

“The doctor said you have to keep it as still as possible,” he admonished firmly.

Riza almost nodded, then realised that probably wouldn’t be the best idea. “All right.”

“But are you okay?” He was stressed, still worrying over her.

“Roy?” She called to him, waiting for a response to try and slow down his mind that was probably picturing the worst, given his expression. It worked because his head perked up immediately and his hands still in his lap. “I’m all right.”

It took a moment, but slowly his shoulders relaxed. His posture slumped slightly.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” she replied sincerely.

It couldn’t have been easy for him to be unable to verify it for himself. He trusted her implicitly, Riza knew this, but still, suddenly becoming blind would be difficult to adjust to. He’d always been so good at picking up how she was feeling from micro expressions alone, so the sudden lack of it would be frustrating. Not to mention the fact she’d probably been out of it for a while. It certainly felt like it, despite still feeling exhausted upon waking.

Before anything else could be said, there was a knock at the door and Breda entered. Riza watched as he and Fuery piled into the room with grins on their faces. They stared at her, ecstatic to see she was awake.

“Hello,” she greeted warmly, extremely pleased to see them all.

Before anyone could reply, Rebecca Catalina stole all of Riza’s attention, just like always. She butted past them both hurriedly, stopping as she zeroed in on Riza.

“Riza!” The volume of her cry made her wince. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” Riza’s vision was filled with the black hair of Rebecca’s ponytail while she was enveloped in her best friend’s arms.

Riza patted her friend on the back gently. “Hey, Becca.”

“How are you doing?” She wasted no time pulling away to examine Riza’s face with a critical eye.

“I don’t know,” was Riza’s honest reply, “other than I feel okay. I just woke up.”

“Any pain? Any discomfort? Do you need to… go?”

While her questions were short and sharp, Riza still appreciated her friend’s concern.

“Fine, Becca,” she soothed, patting her forearm. “It’s just sore when I move my head.”

“You keep it still then. Do you hear me?” A finger was shoved into Riza’s face. “Don’t go messing up the good work the hot doctors did on you.”

“Hot doctors?” Riza raised an eyebrow at her.

Rebecca’s face lit up in glee. “You were so lucky,” she snickered.

Roy cleared his throat from his bed, unamused.

“I’m kidding, Mustang,” Rebecca stressed, but still loudly whispered, “no, I’m not,” before slipping off the bed, walking over to Roy’s. “And how are you doing Colonel?”

“Ready for the day,” he nodded, very matter of fact in the way he spoke.

“Good. We have a lot to cover,” Rebecca announced, taking a seat by his bedside. Her legs were lifted, propped up on the edge of his bed. Feeling the dip, Roy turned his head downwards towards them, but said nothing.

“She’s right, boss,” Breda interjected. He pulled a book out from underneath his arm and flipped it open. “Good to see you awake, Riza,” he grinned before continuing.

“It’s so good to see you, Ma’am,” Fuery gushed, eyes twinkling with joy behind his glasses.

“You too,” she replied. During the Promised Day, she’d lost sight of them and was glad to discover they were safe and visibly unharmed.

“Before we get into it, could we get a minute?” Roy’s question had no room for argument as he gestured between himself and her.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Rebecca hastily reassured. Her feet hit the linoleum floor with a thud before standing.

“Of course, boss. We’ll be back…” Breda shot Fuery an uncertain look. “We’ll give you guys some time. We’ll be back in an hour.”

“Thank you.”

The three of them filed out, leaving Roy and Riza alone. She felt exhausted, feeling it creep up into her head and take residence behind her eyes, forming a dull pain, after only a few minutes of conversation. Just what she needed on top of the slowly receding pain in her neck. A headache.

“Do you need anything?” Roy’s tone was asking her for the truth. Pleading with her for it. He couldn’t see it for himself so needed her to be honest with him and give more than an ‘I’m fine.’

During the Promised Day there had been so many bigger things at stake than her. Riza had kept focussed and kept moving forward, to do the right thing and put an end to those that had wronged her, her friends and family, and the entire nation with their lies and schemes. She had to be there to assist Roy and help the Elric brothers fight Father. Looking at the bigger picture, it was absolute top priority that they succeed on that day. So, her own health and wellbeing were pushed aside for the greater good. She was filled with dismay to realise that her insistence of being ‘okay’ had resulted in Roy pleading with her for the truth. He shouldn’t have to, but now that they were safe and unknown danger no longer lurked around every corner, Riza knew what she had to do.

“I don’t feel like I need anything at the moment,” Riza answered. “My neck hurts a little bit,” she added quietly, “and it really hurt after I moved my head too quickly.”

Roy’s fingers dug into the sheet over his legs.

“So I’m staying as still as possible. It was an automatic reaction to turn my head. I need to remember not to do that.”

“Like I said, the doctor said you have to keep it still.” His voice was authoritative, betraying his worry and concern for her. “They said the morphine will probably wear off soon, so if it does, we have to let a nurse know. Has it started to wear off yet?”

Riza paused to assess how she was feeling. “I’m okay for now. The pain from before is already fading after I moved too quickly.”

Roy’s lips pursed. “If you need more, we will get you some –”

“I’ll let them know if I do need more, I promise.”

Roy nodded, but Riza could still see the tension in his body. He would never fully relax, Riza was sure.

One idea to assist and make things easier on him popped into Riza’s mind.

Throwing the sheet off her body, Riza slowly swung her legs out of the bed. Every muscle protested and she groaned quietly.

“What are you doing?”

“Just… Give me a second.”

“Are you getting out of bed?” He asked as if it were the most ridiculous course of action she could have taken. “Riza –”

“I’m fine. I can walk okay.” Her feet were sore as they contacted the floor and the muscles in her legs were aching, but that was just from overexertion.

“Get back into bed,” he growled at her. “You shouldn’t be up –”

“This will help us both,” she interrupted him. There was a brief feeling of light-headedness as she stood, but it passed quickly.

“How?”

Riza didn’t answer. She shuffled over, movements stiff after being still for so long, but she managed it.

“Move over,” she commanded, nudging his shoulder gently with the back of her hand.

Roy was unimpressed, but did as she asked. Riza slipped into the bed next to him with slow and careful movements. As much as she would have loved to curl up against his side, she couldn’t with her neck, so opted to remain on her back. However, Roy took up the mantle for her. He rolled onto his side and immediately latched onto her. His arms pulled her into a tight embrace, one that told Riza she’d have great difficulty removing herself from his hold. Not that she minded at all.

“You will be the death of me, woman,” he muttered. Immediately his head was by hers, his breath warming the skin of her face. His forehead came to rest upon her temple.

“You love me for it though,” Riza countered with a smile.

“I do.” Roy lifted his fingers carefully towards her face, contacting her skin gently. He caressed her cheek with his thumb before cupping her chin and moving forwards to kiss her cheek.

He placed his head on the pillow and adjusted the arm that lay across her stomach. With his bandaged palms he couldn’t grip onto her completely, but his fingers did as best they could. His hold was still weak – a detail Riza noted and shelved for later. If he pressed too hard with his fingers, from the direction his palms had been sliced into, too much pressure may aggravate and reopen his wounds.

“Now I feel much better,” Riza sighed happily.

Roy hummed in agreement. “I must admit, I do prefer having you by my side.”

Riza ran her hand up his bare arm, noticing him shiver. “I can’t imagine it’s been easy.”

“It's hard being unable to see you for myself.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“It’s been about two days. It’s hard to grasp time and keep track, but that’s what the doctor said when they came in this morning. So probably just over that.”

“I’m sorry I was away for so long.” He’d asked her to be his eyes, and she’d left him.

“It’s hardly your fault,” he scoffed lightly. “You sustained life-threatening injuries and needed to be cared for too, as well as rest.”

“I know.” She swallowed. There was a twinge in her throat as she did so, and Riza silently hoped the injury wouldn’t affect that action too much.

“You getting the help you needed was my top priority. I’m just glad to finally be able to feel and hear that you’re up and awake.”

“I love you.” Her hand stopped on his bicep and gave it a quick squeeze.

“I love you too, Riza.” A kiss was pressed against her shoulder just below her bandages.

“How are you feeling?”

Roy shrugged. “Sore and tired. They performed surgery on my hands. There was enough to work with to repair some of the damage but they won’t be perfect. However, the correct care and physical therapy will help. And my vision… I’m completely blind. I won’t recover from it.”

Riza nodded in acceptance. She always thought that would be the case. Hearing it confirmed wasn’t easy, but she’d support him through it. They would adapt and adjust.

“We both went through a lot on the Promised Day.”

Roy nodded. “We did. And you…” He swallowed. “Helping me with Envy…”

“I would do it again in a heartbeat, you know that.”

“I almost lost it all.” His voice was hoarse.

“You stepped back from it though. Being subjected to torment like you were over the murder of someone you loved… How could anyone not be upset over that?”

“I yelled at you too. That was undeserving when you were only trying to help.” Roy snorted, his face twisting in disgust. “It seems I have a track record of that,” he added bitterly.

He moved to pull away from her, but Riza didn’t let him. She held on tight. “You were upset.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“No, it’s not. But you were upset and teetering on the edge. They were trying to goad you over the edge, but you didn’t let them.”

His head bowed so his forehead came to rest upon her shoulder.

“You won that battle. Remember that.”

Roy was silent as they lay there. As they did so, Riza’s mind wandered towards her own wrongdoings on the Promised Day.

“Besides,” she swallowed, “I’m not completely innocent in all of this either. I killed someone.”

Roy’s hand moved from her stomach. He rubbed her upper arm gently in comfort. The bandages scratched her skin slightly, but not uncomfortably. “I can’t tell you that guilt and regret will ever go away, because it doesn’t.”

Riza clutched at his shirt tighter, scrunching it as she realised his meaning.

“But you’re not alone in this,” Roy reassured her. A kiss was pressed against her shoulder. “I’m right here.”

“I know you are.”

“You saved my life, and I’ll be forever grateful to you for that, however, I’m aware it comes at a price. I’m sorry you have to pay it.”

“I vowed to myself that I would do anything to protect my family.” Riza swallowed. “And I meant it.”

“It still doesn’t make it easy, does it?”

Riza shook her head. “No.”

“Talk to me whenever you need. Although it was incredibly difficult, sometimes impossible, I wish I had opened up more after Ishval. If I had, I could’ve maybe spared us some heartache.”

“We were both still young,” she reminded him. “Your world had been cruelly turned on its head and you’d been turned into a weapon, so, on an emotional level, I don’t blame you for wanting to briefly shut it out.”

“I could’ve been better, though.”

Riza sighed. “We learned from it though.”

“Sometimes I didn’t,” Roy grimaced. “What I would give to take back how I handled Hughes’ death.”

Riza patted his shoulder in comfort. “I think we were both at fault. Grief isn’t easy and it can be unfair. Especially when forced upon us so suddenly and,” Riza swallowed, “so violently.”

Roy repositioned his arm across her stomach, giving her body a tight squeeze. “We made it through in the end.”

“We did,” she confirmed.

Silence descended over them as Riza struggled to try and find the right words she needed to voice her thoughts.

“How… How do you deal with it, day-to-day? The memories of what you’ve done?”

“Before the Promised Day it was by working towards the coup. By taking down Bradley and the corrupt powers, I was working towards stopping something like Ishval from happening again. Now that’s over with… I want to rebuild Ishval. That’s the next project on the agenda. That’s why the team has been coming here every day, so I can learn about their customs and practices. I took part in taking that away from them, so I’ll work to give it back. Then…” He exhaled a long breath. “After that, I will continue to try and make up for all that I did until my last breath.”

“After Ishval?”

Roy nodded. “If I become Fuhrer I can enforce laws that ensure nothing like Bradley and Father will ever happen again. By devolving power and turning the system into a democracy, it removes it. And then, those who were involved with Ishval will be punished for their war crimes.”

On instinct, Riza’s body stiffened. They’d been over this. They’d discussed this outcome plenty of times and she’d somewhat made her peace with it, however, it didn’t mean it was easy. However, she’d respect his wishes, as well as the Ishvalan’s.

“Sorry,” he added quietly, noticing how she tensed underneath his hands.

“No. No, it’s okay. We have to talk about it.”

“If my execution is called for by the elders, then I won’t fight it. I have no right to deny them of how they judge me.”

Riza swallowed. “Obviously, I don’t want to lose you. I love you. However, I want you to know I would never fight it either.”

Her shoulder was squeezed tightly.

“It… It hurts to think about and talk about. It always has, throughout the years, but…” Riza sighed, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on her heart and her mind. “I agree. We can’t take that away from them. Not after what you did.” Riza almost cringed at the bluntness of her words, but she shouldn’t shy away from what happened. Roy wouldn’t, so she shouldn’t either.

“You’re right,” he agreed.

“I helped put that out into the world, so I always felt partly responsible. I suppose that will be my punishment for it.”

“It may not even come to that. If they don’t choose that avenue for me, then I keep on working as best I can. Whatever happens though, we will deal with it.”

“Yes,” Riza agreed, “and I will be with you every step of the way.”

His fingers lowered to entwine with hers. The digits were stiff and couldn’t move too far, which made Riza think back to her concern about how much pressure he could apply with his hands. Riza curled her fingers around his carefully.

“We can work to redeem ourselves together.”

“Until the very end,” Riza vowed.

Roy’s head cocked to the side when she let go of his hand. Riza shifted on the bed, rolling into her side. It wasn’t painful like she imagined it would be. Her neck showed no signs of discomfort as she lay down on the soft pillow.

“You okay?”

“Perfect,” she smiled. She brushed his fringe off his face.

Roy lowered from his elbow to lie next to her. His hand found her lower back and he shuffled in closer to her body. Gently, she cupped his cheek, but noticed how he flinched slightly at the sudden contact.

“Sorry,” she murmured, alleviating the pressure she’d placed on his face.

“No, I didn’t realise what you were doing.”

“I’ll need to be slower and more careful in the future,” she scolded herself lightly.

Roy lifted his bandaged hand to place it on her wrist. He pressed her hand back against his cheek, back to where it had been when he’d flinched. “You don’t need to do anything. You’re perfect. It's… jarring. Being in such inky blackness and feeling something so suddenly, not knowing where it came from. Especially after everything we went through that day.”

Riza studied his face as she tried to rack her brain for a way to announce herself before touching him. Her thumb stroked his face lightly and he sighed into her touch, his body relaxing underneath it.

“What is it like?” She hated to ask, but she wanted to know, so she could find or work out some way to help Roy ease into his new condition.

“It’s terrifying. I hate it.”

Hearing that was like a punch to the stomach.

“And I want to see you again. I so desperately wish I could.” His breath hitched and as Riza blinked, tears appeared in her eyes. “I miss you,” he admitted hoarsely. “I miss your beautiful face and your gorgeous eyes,” he grinned as a tear tracked down his cheek. “And your winning smile.” His hand lifted to cup her face, and he made contact with no issues whatsoever. He didn’t bump into her or end up off target.

Riza smiled. “You did that without thinking,” she praised. Her fingers trailed from his temple to chin, stroking the skin lovingly as she smiled. “You knew where I was.”

His mouth opened then promptly closed again.

“We’ll work through it,” Riza whispered, closing her eyes as their foreheads moved to rest together. “I promise. You won’t go through this alone.”

“I know.” Roy inhaled sharply before letting it out slowly. The hand on her cheek moved to rest on the back of her neck. “I know I won’t.”

She kissed his cheek, pulling him into a tight embrace. The two of them remained there, holding each other, finally able to do so and rest properly after all they’d experienced on the Promised Day. For Riza, she finally felt at peace laying there in Roy’s arm.

Two hours passed before Rebecca knocked on the door, apologising, but asking if they were ready to get to work.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #the way it was #emma writes #i've stared at this for too long soooo.... YEET #if u see any mistakes yes u did but also no u didn't ❤

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a-dorin · 4 years

Text

first meeting - kylo ren

word count: 3,482

warnings: language, sexual tension, some innuendos

this is just a little something that i wrote over winter break, after seeing the rise of skywalker. it’s the potential of something that is going to be more than one part. i don’t have all of the star wars universe terminology quite yet, so sorry if i got something wrong! hope you guys like it :))

you crouched under a table in your home, sweat beading on your forehead. all you could hear were explosions, screaming, and the sounds of the blasters as the storm troopers fired them. the explosions made your home shudder, groaning as your ceiling fell to the ground in pieces.

fear and adrenaline overwhelmed you, coursing through your veins. the troopers had already taken most of your neighbors. who knew if you were next. you had no idea why they were here. why they were attacking your beloved city. why they were taking your friends and neighbors, killing them so swiftly. it made no sense to you; why there were all of these casualties for a pointless war.

however, the dark side had been battling with the light for eons. ever since you could remember, you heard stories and tales of the ongoing war. much of your town was in favor of the new first order, which made you question the attack further.

however, your main focus was to get out alive. it didn’t matter the cost. you needed to survive.

suddenly, your door was flung open. you could hear the shouts of the troopers, their boots echoing in your home. you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for a quick death.

yet, there was only the sound of one pair of thick boots on your floor. they stopped in front of you, your eyes remaining closed. who knew what was in front of you. rather, who was standing in front of you. did they have a gun? a blaster?

“i am not here to hurt you,” the voice was deep, thick with authority, “you are to come with me.”

snapping your eyes open, your breath hitched in your throat. standing in front of you was none other than supreme leader himself, kylo ren.

he towered over you, his built frame covered in dark gear and robes. his robe billowed from behind him, swaying gently as wind entered the space through the open door. his mask, once intact, was scored with red marks. you assumed it was broken, then welded together once more. you swallowed, unsure of his next move. you could see the lightsaber hanging on his hip. you shivered, realizing how many lives he’d taken with that single weapon. yours could be next.

“you’re going to t-take me?” your voice trembled with fear.

kylo did not move, “yes. you are to come with me. i am not going to harm you.”

“do you promise?” you suddenly felt very small as you crept out from underneath the table.

“you have my word,” the supreme leader responded, “come. my men will escort you.”

“w-why are you taking me?” you stuttered, the adrenaline wearing off. now, shock overwhelmed you, along with confusion.

“we will inform you later,” kylo marched ahead of you. he stopped, motioning for troopers, “escort the girl to the ship. if she is harmed, i will have you all executed. do you understand?”

“yes supreme leader,” the troopers echoed back, forming a protective barrier around you.

“s-supreme leader,” you began, your voice small.

he turned, “yes?”

“my droid is missing,” you could feel his eyes boring into you, “he went to help the others. he’s a small one. he hasn’t returned. i need him, he’s my companion.”

“find the droid,” kylo ordered to a pair of troopers, “if you do not find him, intact, both of you will die as well. i will just take the girl to the ship myself. the others, search for the droid.”

“yes supreme leader,” the troopers chorused, jogging off to search for your beloved droid.

“thank you,” you murmured.

kylo only grunted. he walked beside you, leading the way to his own small ship, which you assumed lead to the flagship of the first order. kylo got into the ship, awaiting for you to follow him. you realized very quickly that it was meant to be only one seat, and you would have to sit on the supreme leader’s lap.

heat filled your cheeks, your face burning a bright red. kylo huffed, “don’t act like a juvenile about this. it’s for a few seconds.”

“s-sorry,” you felt like such an idiot for stumbling over your words. you climbed into the ship, settling yourself onto the supreme leader’s open lap.

kylo ren started the pod, and you sat patiently on his lap as it ascended towards the ominous black ship in the atmosphere. you swallowed, feeling a cold sweat form.

to say you were terrified was an understatement. you had no idea where you going, when you would be able to go back home, if ever. there was a large possibility that the first order would wipe out the planet entirely. you bit your lip, taking in the sight of the ground beneath you. there was an odd beauty as fire engulfed your town. it was winter, so the snow glowed a bright orange. it was horrifying yet beautiful.

“calm down,” his voice was quiet, “your thoughts are loud.”

the blush on your cheeks only burned brighter, “sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” kylo rumbled, “once we get on board, i will assign two guards for you at all times. from there, they will escort you to your designated quarters. after my briefing with general hux, i will explain everything to you myself. are we clear, (y/n) (l/n)?”

“crystal,” you mumbled.

even though kylo ren had his mask on, you could feel his eyes staring into you as you gazed in awe at the massive flagship. he approached a loading dock, and landed softly. the pod opened, and kylo gently placed a gloved hand on the small of your back. you flinched, recognizing it was his way of informing you to get out.

you stood up from his lap, feeling the dozens of stares from troopers, generals, and other captains. kylo could almost feel your nervous energy, as it was static. he placed his hand on the small of your back once more, and you felt your anxiety subside slightly.

“i see the mission was a success, supreme leader,” general hux boomed.

“indeed,” kylo responded, his tone cold, “i need two troopers at her side at all times. she needs protection.”

“i don’t need protection,” you mumbled. your voice was so low you weren’t sure if the two men in front of you heard it.

“i don’t care,” kylo snarled, “you are extremely important to the first order. i don’t care if you need protection or not, you’re getting it.”

“your orders will be fulfilled,” hux nodded curtly, “i will have our finest soldiers at her side.”

“my time here is done,” kylo announced, “general hux, follow me. we have a briefing to discuss.”

kylo ren stormed off, his boots thudding against the black tile. you glanced down at your boots, unsure of what was to come next. you could almost feel your thoughts buzzing in your mind. why did the supreme leader of the first order spare your life? why did you need protection? where was your droid?

general hux motioned for two troopers to step forward. you could tell that the two were higher ranked, as they were donned in shiny, silver, armor, “these are your guards, ms. (l/n). they are trained assassins under our best leaders. i hope you never feel as if you’re in danger, as we are here to protect you.”

“such a big hooplah over a civilian,” you rolled your eyes.

general hux raised a brow, but kept his cool composure, “you sure have a pleasant attitude, don’t you? escort her to her quarters. the supreme leader will be with her shortly.”

he turned, walking away towards a gate. a trooper stepped forward, a red band on his right bicep, “i am yo-988, but i am known as phoenix.”

“and i am yw-382, also referred to as bubba,” the other chipped in, donned with a red cape.

“so ‘yo’ and you’re welcome?” you stifled a giggled.

“i knew she’d fucking say that,” phoenix sighed, “listen, i hope you realize that we’re not going to harm you, or run super painful experiments on you.”

“you’re actually really important to the supreme leader,” bubba nodded, “that’s why we have blasters on us at all times. who knows what kind of dipshit could come in and try to kill you.”

“you guys are scaring me more,” you huffed, pouting slightly.

“don’t be worried,” phoenix reassured you, his voice calm, “let’s get you to your quarters before the supreme leader throws a temper tantrum.”

“you guys can talk about him like that?” you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

bubba chuckled, “we’re his best shooters. we can say whatever the fuck we want.”

“he’s kind of intimidating,” you mumbled, following your escorts.

a part of you felt safer as phoenix and bubba escorted you to your quarters. having two friendly soldiers as your guards eased your anxiety. they were obviously close friends, as they cracked jokes about one another to make you laugh. you could tell they were younger, just by the way they talked. another part of you wondered how old they both were, and how long they had been working under the first order. had they been originally resistance turned evil? did they truly know why there was a war?

as you continued walking, you couldn’t help but notice how oddly beautiful the first order ship was. it was so much more sleek than the ships you had seen in your life. the floor was a black marble tile, the walls a space grey. the corridors were full of white troopers. captains, admirals, medics, and engineers buzzed around, busy with tasks. everything was just so organized and neat. you couldn’t help but gaze around in awe.

“m’lady,” phoenix cleared his throat, we have arrived at your quarters. now, if you need anything, feel free to holler. bubba and i will be outside, guarding the door. once kylo ren arrives from his briefing however, we will be dismissed for dinner.”

bubba opened the door for you, and you let out a gasp. the room designated as your quarters was absolutely beautiful. the walls were a black, matching the marble floor. your bed was large, almost too big. there was a fully operable kitchenette, complete with a small, cozy nook. the nook was inside a wall, as shelves surrounded it. however, the aspect that took your breath away was the view. your room possessed viewports, with a full view of the galaxy and planets surrounding the ship.

“this is mine?” you breathed, stepping several feet into the room.

“it is,” bubba confirmed, “the supreme leader requested this room for you specifically.”

“is he in love with me or something?” you turned, raising a brow.

“everyone falls in love with you at first sight darlin’,” phoenix flirted, “you’re just a beautiful woman, and that personality of yours is very charm-.”

“i see you’ve found your quarters due to your guards’ help,” kylo’s voice rang through the room. he stood at the door, his aura full of irritation.

“we fulfilled the assignment sir,” bubba’s tone was courteous.

“good,” kylo was cold, “yo-988, and yw-382, both of you are dismissed.”

“yes, supreme leader,” bubba and phoenix saluted kylo, then marched out of the room. once they were gone, kylo waved his hand at the doors, closing them. you shivered, feeling the room grow colder.

“you can sit on your bed, (y/n),” kylo’s tone was softer, “or do i frighten you?”

“you don’t,” you responded.

then why are you so tense? kylo’s voice rang through your thoughts, making you freeze.

“how can you do that?” you demanded.

“i have been trained,” he responded, “please, sit.”

“take off that mask,” you snorted, “then maybe i will.”

kylo sighed, and placed his hands under his mask. he pulled it off, setting it on a desk beside him. once you got a good look at him, your breathing hitched in your throat.

kylo ren was extremely handsome, with a pale complexion, thick black hair, and rich brown eyes. his skin had red undertones, and they were apparent as he looked at you. his jawline was prominent, and a thick scar ran down a side of his face. he looked no older than twenty-five.

“were you expecting someone older?” his voice was deep, but slightly higher without the mask.

“honestly,” you murmured, “a little bit. maybe a man in his later thirties, early forties.”

you couldn’t help but feel drawn towards him as you both stood there, gazing at one another. you took a few steps closer to him, reaching to touch his cheek. he complied, allowing you to cup your right hand on his face. your thumb traced his cheekbone, and his eyes searched yours.

“supreme leader,” you began.

“kylo,” he cut you off, “you’re allowed to call me kylo.”

“am i the only one?” biting your lip, you couldn’t help but ask the question. this special treatment was making you wonder his true intentions. along with the fact that you had so many other questions. you wanted to ask questions but you knew you needed answers.

“yes,” he answered, “you’re the only one who can call me kylo. the others, it’s kylo ren, supreme leader, or supreme leader kylo ren.”

“why am i here?” the question tumbled out of your mouth.

“many reasons,” kylo replied, taking your hand off his cheek. he walked towards the viewport, facing the outside.

“can you at least tell me one?” your voice was soft.

“i had a vision,” kylo admitted, his reflection gazing at you, “it was an extremely vivid vision.”

“so you kidnapped me because you had a vision?” you couldn’t help but pry. you were finally gaining some answers.

“we are destined to rule together,” kylo stated, his tone cool, “(y/n), you may not realize it, but you are very important. you have some abilities that enable you to utilize the force. there is another girl, a plain scavenger. however, she is not tied to the first order like you. i feel such a stronger connection with you. i knew once i had my vision, that it was imperative that i find you.”

you swallowed, “is that why i dreamt of you the other night?”

that was in fact true. a few nights ago, before the attack on your town, you had a dream about the supreme leader. you didn’t know his face, but it was a dream foretelling your encounter. you suddenly realized that you dreamt about it the other night.

“i may have crept into your thoughts that night,” kylo admitted. you could tell he was slightly embarrassed, “i wanted you to have an idea of me in your mind.”

“that’s a sure fire way to get with a lady,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully.

in the viewport, you could see kylo’s lips curve into a smile, “it worked.”

“i am shocked,” you teased, “the supreme leader, the man who is feared by all, has a sense of humor.”

“i am human,” kylo scoffed, “however, this temperament is only around you. i have an image to uphold. i need the others to fear me.”

“they do,” you nodded, “they really do.”

“if general hux, yo-988, or yw-382 ever get out of line,” kylo began, “i need to know. immediately.”

“oh come on,” you groaned, “phoenix was just flirting, kylo. it was innocent.”

“i don’t want every man flirting with you. in fact, i don’t want any man on this ship, or woman, flirting with you,” kylo was solemn, “they are aware of what will happen if they do not obey my orders.”

“i will be fine,” you sat on your bed, “besides, it’s not like i’m some princess or anything.”

he started to walk towards your doors, “you don’t understand. if anything happens to you, i don’t know what i would do.”

“we just met.” you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by all of the information that was just thrown at you. all you wanted was to just be by yourself for a moment.

“and we have a connection,” kylo retorted, his eyes ablaze, “and it’s stronger than i thought.”

“oh come on, spare me that bullshit-“

“no, you feel it too,” he retaliated, “when i came across you, i couldn’t help but know that we have a bond that nothing in this universe can break. if you really didn’t want this, you would have resisted.”

“kylo,” you began, feeling tears brim your eyes, “i just don’t know what to do or how to feel with all of this new information. this isn’t my home. you destroyed my home. how am i really supposed to feel right now? i don’t even have the one thing that’s closest to me right now.”

kylo sensed the shift in your emotion, his facial features softening. he ran a hand through his hair, feeling sympathy for you. he understood your anger, your hurt. you had your home ripped away from you, and you had no idea how to cope.

“i am going to check on the status of your droid,” kylo murmured, “alert yo-988 or yw-382 if you need anything. i will report back promptly.”

he picked up his mask, sliding it over his face. you felt a slight flash of sadness, as you didn’t get a chance to memorize his face before it was gone. the only sound made was the thud of his boots against the floor as he exited the room. some words were exchanged between him and your guards, as you sat on your bed, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“(y/n)?” phoenix coughed, knocking on the doors, “we just got word. we found your droid.”

immediately, you sat up on your bed, “bring him to me, please!”

“i will have a captain bring him to you,” phoenix responded, radioing who you assumed to be a captain.

as you waited for your droid, you could feel hope wash over you. you didn’t care about your home, as long as you had your droid, jet. he was a small one, with one wheel and a cone shaped head, paired with a large attitude. you were sure he was just as frightened as you were.

getting out of the bed, you waiting patiently beside bubba and phoenix, awaiting the arrival of jet. boots thudded in the hallway, and you recognized them immediately. kylo ren emerged from the corridor, jet trailing after him.

“jet!” you cried, opening your arms. once jet realized you were there, he sped past kylo, embracing you with his body.

“she can speak droid?” bubba chuckled.

jet whistled at bubba angrily. you laughed, “they’re my body guards. we get special treatment on this ship. did any of those troopers handle you roughly?”

jet shook his head no, “no.”

“did that bad, mean, man over there give you any trouble?” you cooed, fixing jet’s antennae.

don’t make me punish you. kylo’s voice rang through your head. you swallowed, blushing slightly.

and no, i am not joking. you could almost see kylo smirking underneath his mask. he knew you were starting to become flustered.

“it’s getting late,” phoenix stated, “and you’ve have a long day, ms. (l/n). tomorrow, the supreme leader wishes to have a meal with you, at first sunlight.”

“at first sunlight?” you glanced up at kylo, who was watching over you and jet.

“sunrise,” bubba repeated, “that is when we are going to be relieved for our duties until noon. we have to sleep too ya know.”

“do not speak to her-“ kylo began, his voice menacingly quiet.

“they have a right to joke with me,” you retorted, “they are stationed with me practically twenty-four seven, because of your orders. now, i am going to go into my quarters, where i am going to catch up with my droid. goodnight,

phoenix, and goodnight bubba.”

“goodnight, (y/n),” bubba and phoenix chorused back, happy to be called by their nicknames.

without saying a goodnight to kylo, you whisked jet into your arms, slamming the doors shut behind you. it was about midnight, approximately four hours since you had been kidnapped. well, not kidnapped. more like taken against your will, but it’s not like you had a choice.

kylo was right. you two had a bond that was extremely strong. even though you were mad at him for being so rude to bubba, you wanted nothing more to see his face again.

with jet on the edge of your bed, you stared at the ceiling, thinking about kylo. who knew the secrets you’d find out tomorrow. maybe if you were lucky, the two of you would spend time alone, where you’d see his more vulnerable side.

i forgot to tell you, you heard kylo in your thoughts, his deep voice soothing. you’re extremely beautiful, (y/n). sleep well.

you fell asleep, with a small smile on your face.

#kylo ren #the rise of skywalker #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars uni #kylo ren fluff #kylo ren smut #kylo

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flowingriver24 · 4 years

Text

This is my entrance for Day 1 of the September Macgyver Whump Challenge

I know I’m late to my own challenge

Episode Tag to 2.04

As soon as Jack sees Mac pop up on the facial recognition program Riley had set up to scan for Mac’s face, he runs to his car and drives to the address as fast as he can.

It doesn’t take him long to get there. He doesn’t even bother parking his car correctly before he jumps out and pushes through the large crowd gathered only to be stopped by a police officer when he tries to run to where Mac was lying, half on the road and half on the sidewalk.

Two men who can only be some sort of medical professionals are crouching in front of Mac and talking to him. Jack can tell from this distance that Mac is panicking, and trying to get away from them, but not succeeding.

His movements are sluggish.

Drugged or concussed. Jack mentally diagnoses. Knowing Murdoc, it’s probably drugs.

“Mac!” he yell, ignoring the officer who’s trying to get him to back away from the scene.

Mac startles at his voice and turns to look at him. He can’t hear Mac, but he can read Mac’s lips when he says, ‘Jack’ looking relieved.

This seems to be enough for the officer to let him through and he runs to Mac’s side and falls to his knees ignoring the slight pain from landing on the concrete harshly.

“Mac,” he says again, relieved to see that Mac is alive.

His hands hover, he doesn’t know how badly Mac is hurt, where he can touch him. He helps Mac sit up and then settles for holding one of Mac’s hands, holding back a wince at how tightly Mac grips his hand.

He’s noticed the bruises around Mac’s wrists and one slightly bloody bruise on his lower arm. A bruise seems to be forming on Mac’s face that almost looks like a handprint.

That bastard.

Mac doesn’t say anything, his head seems to loll and he’s squinting and looking like he can barely focus.

“Sir? We need to check you over,” one of the men says.

“His name is Mac,” Jack says.

“Mac, can we please help you to the ambulance?” he says.

“Come on, Mac,” he says, hoisting Mac to his feet.

Mac looks confused, but he goes along with Jack who’s pretty much carrying him at this point.

“Thank you Mr…”

“Just call me Jack,” Jack says as he helps Mac sit down and then sits down next to Mac when he refuses to let him go.

The younger man (he should probably ask for their names) asks Mac to remove his shirt. Mac flinches, but slowly unbuttons his black shirt. He only let’s go of Jack’s hand to pull the sleeve off his arm and then grasps it again, like Jack is going to disappear if he lets go.

Jack sighs in relief to see Mac surprisingly unharmed. He was expecting the shirt to be covering all sorts of terrible wounds but all he can see is a few burn marks. And Mac’s breathing sounds clear so it’s likely he wasn’t waterboarded either.

He just prays that there’s nothing else wrong with Mac besides what he can see. Mac seems to be shying away from touch, but no more than usual when dealing with medical personal. And he’s clinging onto Jack like a lifeline.

The man disinfects Mac’s arm and wraps the wound. Then he looks at Mac’s torso and frowns at the burns.

“Can you tell me how you got those,” he asks gesturing towards the burns.

“Taser,” Mac says quietly.

It’s the first time Jack’s heard Mac says anything. His voice sounds normal, not like he’s been screaming or crying.

The man nods and turns around and says something to the other guy. He goes through the supplies and comes up with some sort of ointment which he puts on the burns.

Everything goes wrong when he pulls out an IV kit and says, “I need to start an IV to flush the drugs out of your system and then we need to take you to the hospital to do a tox screen.”

Mac scrambles back, still not letting go of Jack.

“No IV, I don’t want…please no,” he rambles.

The man looks confused and Jack says to him quietly, “I think he was drugged with an IV.”

A look of understanding passes over his face and he quickly puts the IV kit out of view. It takes Jack a few minutes to calm Mac down. The drugs aren’t helping.

When Mac finally relaxes, he moves back to Jack’s side and leans on him, looking like he’s fighting to stay awake.

“I think I should take him to his doctor, he would probably be more comfortable with someone familiar,” Jack says.

The man frowns, “I can’t let you leave with him. He still has to talk to the police and go through the proper procedure. And even after that’s done, we can’t release him to you without Mac’s permission which we can’t get until he’s off the drugs.”

“I can make medical decisions for him, you can check. My full name is Jack Wyatt Dalton.”

The man looks over at Mac who says, “Mine is Angus MacGyver.”

He checks something in his computer and then turns back to them, “Okay Mr. Dalton, you need to step outside while I talk to Mr. MacGyver privately.”

As much as Jack would like to argue, he knows he has to. The doc is just probably making sure that Mac is okay with leaving with him.

“I’ll be right back, okay kid?” he says squeezing Mac’s hand.

Mac looks like he doesn’t want to let him go, but eventually he does and Jack steps outside and closes the door behind him. And officer approaches him.

“Agent Dalton?” she asks.

“That would be me.”

“Your boss called and explained the situation to us. Once the doctors check over Agent MacGyver, you two are free to go.”

“Thank you,” Jack says.

“I hope you find whoever kidnapped him. If you need any assistance the LAPD will be willing to help you.”

Jack thanks her again and then she leaves, leaving him waiting outside the ambulance. The crowd has dispensed.

It only takes a few minutes for the door to open once again, and Mac is standing there, wearing his shirt again and being supported by the doctor.

“You’re free to go Agent Dalton,” he says, “Please make sure to take Mac to the hospital, he needs to get the drug in his system tested.”

“Will do, thank you for your help Doc.”

Jack supports Mac and helps him to his car and carefully drives to Phoenix. Mac falls asleep halfway there.

I’m not going to let him out of my sight anytime soon, Jack thinks, And we’re going to find that bastard and make him pay for what he did to Mac.

#macgyver #fanfiction #river's writing #2.04 X-Ray + Penny #murdoc #jack dalton #whump

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bigkyle990 · 4 years

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A Witchy Pirate part 2

And hear we have an event one year later, the Arc Crew getting involved in one of the more important events in the One Piece world, following just Luz’s side of course. There is some blood and character death(not anyone people actually care about, hah) in this one, so please beware. It’s not to graphic, but still feel it’s best to warn you. You can also read Part 1 Here Once again, please continue under the cut for the new piece and enjoy

One year later

The seas of the New World were a turbulent place on any normal day. Unpredictable weather, swarms of monsters deep beneath it’s sapphire waters, and chaotic ocean currents abound at any given time between its many islands.

Today however, a far more chaotic event is taking place near the beginning of this half of the Grand Line.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The crashing water as cannon fire rang out among the waves of the sea, a pitched battle taking place between a group known as the Blackbeard pirates against the remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates and The Arc Pirates. The latter joined in after the pair of crews began their battle. Luz dodged past a spear strike and swung her hands out, twisting them and forming a glowing red glyph before she shot her hand out. The glyph began to glow brighter, spiraling in on itself before releasing a burst of flame on her attacking opponent, who quickly dodged out of the way and laughed. “Murunffuffuffu, you are one fiery young woman.” One Caterina Devon laughed as she landed a bit a ways on the massive logs of the Blackbeard Crew’s ship and spinning her spear. “Your head will make a wonderful start to my new collection!” She smirked charging in again in an effort to drive her spear into the young Wild Witch, only to be met by the stopping force of a new Glyph. One that not only halted her attack, but blew the massive 11 foot woman backward. “Yeah right, like I’m gonna let you get anywhere near my head, you crazy bitch!” Luz yelled, clearing out the Impact Glyph and slamming her hands down on the ship below her. A new glyph formed, a large green one, causing the wood beneath to splinter and grow into new branches that shot out, attempting to ensnare the woman.

She watched, annoyed, as Devon dodged between the branches easily. “Haki, I should have guessed…” Luz growled, before her own senses tipped her off and she swung up a hand, calling up a shield between her and the loud clang of a blade. “Damn it Vista! Keep your opponent on your side of things!” Luz yelled. She was currently holding back a large looking man in a jailor hat and clothing, along with a still smoking cigar in his mouth. The man grinned pushing against her shield, something she had to reinforce by putting her own Armament Haki into it, turning the shield from it’s normal dull orangish color, to a far darker orange. Her struggle didn’t have to last long though, as a wide chested man dressed in a top hat, cape, and fine looking clothing dashed in with his blades, swiping at her aggressor and causing him to retreat back, landing next to Devon who wasn’t far away. “My apologies, Wild Witch.” The new man grinned as Luz’s shield fell and she got up, ready for the next attack. “This Shiryu of the Rain is a much more slippery opponent than I expected. He was able to distract me just enough to get away.” “No worries Vista.” Luz said, flinging her hands out as she coated one in flame and the other in ice, gripping them both to create blades of each element. “It feels like everyone on this asshole’s crew is good at being a bit tricky.” She paused as they all heard a beasts roar and a large man’s howl of pain, looking over to see the massive form of Sanjuan Wolf being bombarded by a large purple and green dragon’s flames. “Okay, except the one Spike is fighting right now, that guy seems a bit slow in the head.” “Yes, Wolf was never well known for being a clever man. Still.” Vista stated as he focused on their enemies. “I thank you and your crew for standing with us in this fight. I fear we would not be fairing as well if you hadn’t stepped in.” “Don’t thank me, thank Jaune, he was on the old man’s crew before splitting off to make his own, said that he was still family and couldn’t let what Teach did go unpunished.” Luz said, before charging back into the fight itself. “Haha! Well said, glad Arc never truly left us!” Vista grinned, charging in right after her.

The two took to fighting together on this from now on. Working their best to keep up with each other and put the pressure on their opponents. Devon was more of a mind to be cautious as the two showed signs of working together, Shiryu deciding to charge in and beginning to battle the two. Vista would quickly come in with his blades, looking to occupy the former Jailor of Impel Down as Luz worked to get around his guard, swinging her blades of ice and fire on the man. Though she made sure to keep her eye on Devon. A smart plan as the tall woman attempted to attack them from behind multiple times, either blocked by Vista’s blades or Luz, the latter nearly burning her spear in her hands and even able to form ice around her hands. Painfully sticking it to her grip.

That was able to get Devon off the fight long enough for both Luz and Vista to press on Shiryu much more fiercely. Driving him back as he found himself covered in cuts, burns, and even froze parts of his joints. “You think this will end me! I survived far worse in Impel Down, you fools.” He growled, adrenaline pushing him further as he began to charge them. Luz moved forward first, hand glowing an icy blue as she quickly drew a large Ice glyph in the air and moved out of the way. Right behind her Vista came forward blades crossed in front of him, before swinging them out towards the Glyph and releasing an air pressure blade that broke into what looked like a flurry of rose petals. When they came into contact with Luz’s glyph, they froze immediately, becoming a flurry of frozen petals of ice that shot towards Shiryu at a speed he couldn’t dodge. The man’s eyes widened as he tried to block as many as he could with his own blade. Slashing and blocking at each that came in, but they were far too fast for him to keep up with and began to feel the frozen blades dig into his body. Biting back a scream he crossed his arms over his head, only to feel them start to stiffen. The blades were freezing him from the inside, his body quickly becoming more rigid with each passing second, until he could no longer move. He stood, frozen in place and dead to the world. Vista panted a bit and smirked. “Not bad Noceda, like that little combo you came up with…” He stated with a light grin as he tried to catch his breath from the fight. “Thanks, thought it would be effective.” She grinned, only for both of them to be shocked as Luz suddenly found a spear run through her stomach and coughing up blood. “Murun Ffu Ffu Ffu… A pretty thing like you… Shouldn’t be working so hard.” Devon smirked as she lifted Luz off the deck of the ship they had been battling on, savoring the look of pain and anguish on her face. “Noceda!” Vista yelled, charging to save the young woman, only to be bashed aside by said woman’s body being swung into him. “Keep out of this ‘Flower Sword’.” Devon smirked before looking back to Luz. Luz panted, grunting in pain as she gripped the shaft of the spear and glared at Devon. “I thought… You… Wanted my… Head…” She spat out, venom drenching her words. “Oh I do, make no mistake.” The taller woman drew her in closer, a sick smile growing across her face. “I just don’t want to ruin it before I can collect it… Murun, Ffu, Ffu, Ffu...” Luz looked up to her, eyes still showing fight in them as she grinned, a small trickle of blood coming from the corner of her mouth. “Too bad… You should have aimed higher…” She held up her hand, a glowing yellow glyph having formed that she quickly crushed just as it became coated in Haki. “Sparking…” Lightning shot from the shattered glyph, shooting into the air, shocking Devon enough that she let go of her weapon, Ice having been removed by force. “Ragnarok.” Luz finished as a mass of lightning coated black with her own Haki shot down, striking Devon and making the woman scream in absolute pain as 300 million volts shot through her body, scorching the wood of the deck underneath her. When the strike ended, Devon’s body was shown, completely blackened by the heat of the strike and crumpling down to the deck. Another member of the Blackbeard Pirates was gone. Luz picked herself up as Vista made his way over to her, watching as she coated her arm in haki and broke off the long end of the spear. “Best to keep that in for now… Don’t want you bleeding out before we get you to a doctor.” He said with a slight chuckle and helped her to her feet. “Yeah… Bella wouldn’t be happy about that…” Luz giggled weakly, coughing up more blood from the action. “Ugh, this sucks… But better than dead I guess…” “That it is, now hold on for me, not unwounded myself…” Vista grinned as they made their way for a doctor.

_ Time passed and the remains of the war came to an end. Luz herself had been sidelined by her injuries for the remainder, but she knew she did well in how things had gone for her. The remaining members of the Blackbeard pirates had been killed, both Jaune and Marco the Phoenix taking “Blackbeard” Teach’s head in its final moments. What forces that remained retreated upon seeing their captain and all their officers slain. Though that didn’t leave their side without it’s losses. Something that would be mourned later, but for now they celebrated their win. A battle that only lasted a single day, but still held ramifications for the lands of the New World on who would stand above others. History would later name this battle the Payback War. A war started by the remnants of the Whitebeard pirates attacking the Blackbeard pirates in a drive for vengeance for the death of their late captain Edward Newgate. A war that they would have lost, had it not been for the intervention and alliance of the Arc Crew to turn the tides of fate in their favor.

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #mass crossover #Owl house #one piece #OnePieceau #luz noceda #Lumity #blood warning #death warning

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lilyharvord · 4 years

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Song of the Phoenix Part 7

WHoa, it’s been a haut minute since I updated this fic. But now it’s gonna be fun. We meet some new characters and they are very important.

Find Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

tag list: @evangelineartemiasamos @mareshmallow @redqueenetwork @farleydiana @whatsup-gorls @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday

(/Coriane/) I don’t remember falling asleep, nor do I remember them stopping and switching out the person guarding us. My head bumps the back of the truck as we stop though and I snap awake, thinking everything must have been a dream that I’m going to wake up from and laugh at how silly the whole thing was.

My heart beats erratically as I take in the darkness in the back of the truck. Mare is unnaturally still next to me. Braving the silent stone, I reach through the net to touch her shoulder. “Mare?” I whisper to her, but she doesn’t move. Her eyes are open though, and I can see the whites of them in the darkness. Whatever has happened to her though, she is not recovering from it.

“Mare?” I whisper her name again, panic rising into my tone. Outside of the truck I can hear people approaching the back. She doesn’t move, doesn’t even seem to breathe. The man in the back of the truck with us watches carefully. He scans the way Mare lies still as death, and how I frantically try to wake her. She’s the physical weak link, but I’m something far worse.

“Please,” I choke to her when that thought passes through my head. I don’t know how much good it will do though. If she didn’t respond to me before, pleading with her won’t change anything.

Four people with lanterns appear. In the weak light cast by one of them, I can see that two of them are huge men, and two of them are women. They look us over for a few minutes, and the silence stretches until I wasn’t to scream. One of the women huffs though and says, “I thought you said they were important?”

“The one in the net is, you idiot. That one’s Mare Barrow.”

“I don’t recall her being important.”

“You know! Mare Barrow, The Little Lightning Girl, the girl that brought down the King of Norta.” He says it and spits to the side, as if the words are poison in his mouth.

My stomach flips in surprise, and I tense before slowly drawing my hand away from Mare. The woman who had asked the initial question looks me over before stepping into the truck and holding the lantern up to my face. She has a thick scar that drags from her temple down to the middle of her cheek. I dont want to know how or where she got it.

I shy away from her as she edges closer and sneers. “This one looks pathetic.”

Something in me shrieks in protest, but I do the thing I’ve always been good at, and drop my eyes in shame. She snickers at my reaction and says, “Bring them out then. He’ll take a look at them and tell us what to do.”

Scar face grabs my arm and drags me toward the end of the truck bed. I tug against her hold, and try to fumble over the right words to say to her. She laughs at my attempts and tosses me out on to the ground. I catch myself on my hands and knees, and scratch up my palms on dry grasses. She drops with catlike grace to land behind me, her hand latching onto the collar of my shirt. I glare at her over my shoulder and say, “You won’t get—”

“Don’t try to tell me that, we’ve got you hundreds of miles away from Ascendant. Your best bet sweet thing, is to keep your mouth shut.” She says with a rapier sharp grin before grabbing my arm as well and dragging me to my feet. I feel like a small animal being manhandled.

A thud behind me make me turn around though. The two men sneer down at Mare in the net before smirking at each other and dragging her like a fresh catch behind them.

“Don’t let them hurt her, she’s injured already, please.” I plead, but the woman simply huffs at my words and tugs me back around to get me moving again. I try to protest her hold but she grips my arm so tight it feels like the bone is going to break. Strongarm, I realize, when I see the veins sticking out in her forearm. Her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows in the heat, but she walks like it doesn’t bother her. My mouth feels like its had cotton shoved in it, and already i beads of sweat run down my back.

In the darkness in front of me, I see a set of fires. As we approach them, the tops of massive tents come into focus. The shadows dance on the edge of them, and my stomach rebels as I remember the stories Jessabel used to tell us about slavers who took women that wandered the streets at night and turned them into meat or something worse. I bucked immediately at the thought. Scar sneers and spits, “Come on, you’re worse than a spooked deer.”

She drags me into the middle of the encampment, and people peel out of their tents, looking at us in surprise. I spot dirty children clutching their mother’s legs, and young men trying to stand to the front and look tough. A village, this was a village of sorts. That eases my panic a bit. At least I’m not about to be pit on a spit and roasted for tomorrow’s lunch.

My attention is immediately grabbed by what is in front of me. In the center of the camp is a massive gold and red tent. There are two guards stationed outside of the entrance and they immediately dive inside as we approach.

Scar face pauses in front of it before kicking the back of my knees to bring me to a kneel. She grabs my wrists and binds them with a worn piece of leather before pulling the knot so tight my skin barks in protest. Pinching my face against the pain, I watch her disappear into the tent as well.

Mare is dropped next to me and the men continue to stand behind her like she might try to get up. Her eyes are open though, and they finally seem to be in the present because she looks around sluggishly.

“Mare,” I hiss her name, testing my bonds weakly. One of the men kicks my side, hissing, “Quiet!” 

“Forin, let’s not kick our guests.”

I turn my eyes in the direction of the new speaker. He steps out from inside the tent with Scar Face. He’s young, goodness he can’t be older than Cal. In the firelight, his copper hair and grey eyes cut an imposing figure. He’s dressed like the rest of the soldiers in what could be a ragged uniform. Even in that uniform though, I can tell he is some form of nobility. The way he stands, the way his eyes slowly drag over me scream court trained. Perhaps I can get through to him, make him understand that everything is a mistake and he should release us.

He steps toward me, the fire light bringing his handsome features into focus. His eyes never leave mine as he asks, “Reece tells me that you’re a whisperer, is this true?”

I purse my lips, and swallow my answers, deciding that I want to be stubborn. Forin, one of the men that dragged Mare, hisses and grabs me by my hair so tightly it makes me shriek in pain. “He asked you a question!”

The new comer does not step to my defense again, instead he watches me with narrowed eyes. My own water as Forin digs his fingers deeper into my scalp until I whimper. “No! I’m a singer!”

“A singer?” He asks in disbelief, and I nod weakly, even though that causes more pain to explode across my scalp. I crane my neck to try and relieve some of the pressure on my head before choking, “Yes, I can… I can only make you do what I want if I sing and make eye contact.”

“There aren’t many singers in the country Sire, the only one that I know of is the one in Ascendant. The one Kels told us about.” Scar face speaks from behind him, her massive arms crossing across her chest. He nods in response and that spark of familiar information makes me cry, “My brother! That’s my brother!”

Scar face laughs at my outburst, her eyes glinting wickedly in the dim light. “Please, your lies are pathetic.”

“His name is Julian, he’s my brother!” I argue, only for my words to be cut off as Forin squeezes my hair again.

“Enough of your lies, you little snake.” His grip tightens to the point that I release a strangled cry of pain. Next to me, Mare groans and the other guard launches himself on top of her, pressing her face into the ground. She can barely move, and they think she can fight them all off? How powerful do they think she is?

The man holds his hand up in a silent order. Forin grumbles, his grip loosening until he drops my head. I let myself fall forward until my forehead is resting in the dirt, while I sob softly. I was as useless as a rock. Actually, I was more useless than that, you could at least throw a rock and hurt someone. I was more like a petal. Maybe not ever that, because petals could be poisonous. Elara had always been right about me. I was weak, pathetic, and useless.

The dirt near me crunches and slowly someone crouches down. I shy away from their touch, wanting to just curl up in a ball and disappear into the darkness again.

“Get her inside, take the other one to the shed and lock her in there. Keep the net on her. We can’t have any accidents.”

“Sire!” Forin cries, but the silence that follows his exclamation tells me that there will be no argument. Strong hands grab my arms and yank me to my feet before dragging me forward toward the tent. I flip my head around and watch as two new soldiers grab Mare and drag her in the opposite direction. “Wait,” I choke, as I try to pull away and go after her. Where are they taking her? Where is the Shed? Are they going to torture her?

I’m forced forward and through my tears, I can see the young man pulling the tent flap of the massive tend aside and disappearing inside ahead of us. I takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brighter interior, and I squint as I look over my surroundings. The interior seems to so out of place with where we are. Beautiful mahogany furniture decotates the space, with books and maps stacked on every available space. In the face corner, almost hidden behind everything is a small cot with a gas lamp on a crate.

The guards leave me standing and take hesitant steps back on a silent order I assume comes from the young man standing before us. A second later though, he whispers, “leave us.”

There is a soft hiss from Scar Face, but she follows the order nonetheless. I quiver as she passes by me, her grumbles clearly audible under her breath. The tent flap slides into place and we’re left in silence. The only thing I can hear is the soft drumming of fingers on a desk. I keep my eyes on my bound hands though, terrified of looking up.

“What is your name?”

I tense and shake my head in response to the question. The drumming stops, and I hold my breath until it continues again. We remain in silence, until his voice fills it. He’s still carefully guarded, but softer when he speaks. “I will give you mine then. We’re cut from the same cloth and you deserve my name at least.”

I bring my eyes up, just enough to look at him through my lashes. He’s standing behind a massive mahogany desk, littered with papers, books, and a few almost nonexistent candles that are lit. Julian would be disgusted at the candle wax that has leaked onto the covers of the faded volumes.

He comes from behind the desk slowly, and I take a step back in fear, but he pauses at the front of the desk and leans against it. With a slight dip of his head, he says, “My name is Proteus Valazt, and I am the king of the Raiders.”

That draws my eyes and a slight incline of my head. He nods with me and then says, “Yours now, it’s only fitting. I’m sure you’re not versed in the court etiquette—“

“My name is Coriane Jacos, and I …” I trail off, hesitant to say my title, wondering if it would make things worse for me if I told him. He raises a brow expectantly, and I drop my eyes and head again. “It doesn’t matter what I was.”

He shrugs, as if the information truly doesn’t matter. He turns to one of the candles behind him and says, “Do you understand that you are our hostage?” 

“I understand that in war there are certain rules to hostages. You are not harm them for one.”

He chuckles darkly and raises his eyes to me with a smile that the shadows play in. “We’re not at war with Montfort. They are at war with us.”

Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I watch the rapid, mercurial change to his features. I’ve told lies, I know what they look like on people’s faces. I’d schooled my face to hide the unhappiness underneath my skin for years. I know all the tells.   If he realized that he’s given me knowledge about himself, he doesn’t show it, instead he gracefully makes his way back behind the desk and sinks into the chair. He watches me carefully until I say softly, “You don’t believe that.”

His expression changes immediately from confident, to surprised, to composed. He’s young and hasn’t completely learned how to control those changes in his expression. I blink at him and he leans back in his chair, and brings his fist up to support his chin. It takes a moment for him to realized that I am more than just another silver, I have been in a court somewhere, and I know the games, at least some of them.

“Who are you?” He asks carefully again. I shake my head and drop my eyes.

“Forgive me, I’ve overstepped,” I try to back pedal, my fear that he’ll figure out the truth coming through. He narrows his eyes and says, “You’ve served in a court, I want to know which one.”

There was no harm in leaving him with a little information, not enough to gain the truth though. “I lived in the Nortian court for a while.” I give the piece willingly, and his eyes narrow even further.

“My father helped a princess from the Lakelander court a few years ago. She came bringing words of peace, and a promise that the King of Norta was going to help us conquer Montfort. Here we are years later though, missing a king, and lacking support.”

“I’m not that support.” I murmur, and he laughs with a shake of his head at my response.

“I don’t need to see to know that.”

He rises from his chair, settling into his new position in the conversation. I move away from him as he walks passed me and digs through the drawers for something behind me. When he returns, it’s with a knife. I pull back in horror, but he grabs my wrists and holds me in place. He’s considerably taller than me, and has no problem manhandling me.

“No, wait, please—“ I cry, closing my eyes and tensing until I feel the metal between my wrists and hear the near silent snip of the knife cutting through leather. I crack open my eyes and watch him slowly saw at the bonds on my wrists. He works in silence, the callouses on his fingers rubbing against my skin as he does so.

The leather falls away and I pull my wrists to my chest, rubbing at them softly, trying to sooth the skin. He slips the knife into the holster on his belt, and watches me carefully back away into a corner of the tent, trying to put distance between us. He sits on the edge of the desk again in response, staring at me before saying, “If we succeeded in our effort to over throw Montfort, I would need to know how to function on the political stage. So, my father made me memorize all the kings and queens growing up. There was a singer queen in Norta.”

My stomach plummets to my knees and I swallow past the sandpaper feeling in my throat. I can’t speak though. Not as he crosses his arms comfortably and says, “Coriane Jacos, the Singer Queen, that’s what they called her. The rumor was that she whispered honey in the prince’s ear and he married her within the week.”

I want to argue in my defense, but I simply press deeper into the shadows, trying to hide. He won’t let me though, his words light fireworks, igniting my past and showing exactly who I am.

“She gave birth to a son, Tiberias Calore the Seventh. She died a year later, and a Whisper Queen took the throne in her place.”

“Please—“

“So who are you Coriane Jacos? A queen, a singer, or a corpse?”

My skin crawls at the last word and I whisper, “Nothing, I am nothing.”

“No one is nothing,” he reasons, and looks down at his boots, his lip curling for a moment in distaste. I wish more than anything that I were a Haven, so that I could blend into the shadows and disappear forever.

“You’re one of the Living Dead, aren’t you?” He asks the next part softly. My reaction brings a smile to his features, and he says, “Yes, we have them too. They’re growing in number, rising as fast as they die. In fact… my scouts were reporting a change in the weather as you were being brought here. The men I lost in the battle might just walk into this camp tomorrow morning.”

I wheeze for breath, remembering Mare’s words from earlier. They shouldn’t have this many men, their numbers were too great.

“Do you know why it’s happening?” I whisper breathlessly, and his eyes widen in surprise, before he shakes his head infinitesimally.

“Do you?”

I shake my head in reply, stepping out of the corner just slightly. His lips draw into a tight line, as he replies, “It’s not stopping anytime soon though.”

I hesitant to take another step forward, drawn in by the conversation, and say, “Montfort might know something. The Premier… she might know something.”

He sneers at the mention of Rori, but his next comment is cut off by Scar face returning, almost out of breath. She looks between the two of us, and then spots the leather strap on the floor. Her eyes narrow a fraction of an inch before she looks up and says, “It’s Harv, he’s almost left us.”

Proteus is up in seconds and starts for the exit to the tent. He freezes before turning to look at me, as if he just remembered I was there. I try to press myself back into the shadows, but I have a feeling I will never be able to hide from him. “Grab her, Doria. She cant stay here.”

Doria crosses the space to me, and I try to put up a fight, but she wrestles me into movement. I don’t dare drag my feet, not now that Proteus has cut my bonds. That was a quiet blessing, and I want to think that it’s a promise of some sort. I’m not sure of what yet though.

I’m dragged through the camp, which seems to have resumed some resemblance of nighttime activity. The children run around the camp fires, shouting and making up games as they go. Elders hush them, and other younger members chatter. But they all bow their heads when Proteus walks by. A hush seems to follow him too. I remember that hush, it makes my skin crawl now, just like it used to when I walked next to Tibe through the crowds.

He pushes a tent flap aside, which has a massive swath of red paint across the front of it. Doria pushes me inside, and I struggle against her grip, and then against the bile that rises in my throat at the stench. I gag, and choke for a second, while my eyes adjust to the limited light. Next to my feet a woman groans, her body covered in white boils that ooze. I back up into Doria’s chest, trying to put distance between myself and the woman on the ground. Another one to my right groans though, a child from the looks of it, who face is covered in so many of the boils that it doesn’t even look human anymore.

Doria pushes me to the back, and the further we go, the worse it gets. There are no sounds back here, the people here are the ones closest to death. Here are the people praying for it to end.

Proteus pauses above a young man and slowly drops to his knees, his facade cracking as he does so. I can barely hear the wheeze of the man’s breaths. His eyelids are swollen shut with the boils, and his body shakes with every exhale. Proteus reaches a hand out only for a nurse to hurry over and whisper, “Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but you can’t--”

His hand hovers over the man’s skin for a moment and he whispers, “Harv, can you hear me?”

The man doesn’t move, and the nurse bends down to whisper something in Proteus’s ear, her voice gentle. She’s not a healer though, or else the people in here would not be this sick. Surely they have a healer though?

One of the boils pops when Harv opens his mouth and a yellow pus oozes out. I gag and turn to rush from the tent. Doria lets me go, her fingers trailing on my arm. I barely make it out of the tent before I’m sick. A few people look up from nearby, and pull their children away. I lean against one of the poles, trying to catch my breath. I’d never seen anything like that. Not even in the worst of the red villages. Then again, I’d never gone that deep into them. Mare might know more, she said she grew up in the Stilts. It was the poorest, I knew that much.

A while after I finish vomiting, Doria and Proteus emerge from the tent. I look up, and Proteus glances down at me in surprise, as if he was shocked I was even still standing there. Then his eyes harden and he orders, “Take her to one of the tents, have them burn her clothes, and wash her. I won’t let one of my hostages die.” 

Doria nods and grabs my arm before dragging me away and toward another one of the tents at the edge of the encampment. A few women sitting outside of it stroking a small fire look up when she approaches with me. They rise as one, and look me over before pulling the tent flap aside. I can’t even bring myself to protest as they drag me inside. (////)

Hours later, after I’ve been scrubbed raw and doused in oils and soaps until I smell like a perfume parlor, the tent flap shifts. The ladies brushing my hair pull back in surprise and bow their heads deeply. I glance up in the shockingly clean mirror to see Proteus standing behind me.

“Out, all of you.” He orders, but he almost doesn’t need to. The minute the first word leaves his mouth, they are rushing to leave, whispering like birds as they flee. I straighten my shoulders as he approaches me from behind, internally I tremble. I have no idea what his ability is. He’s too lean to be a strong am, but that wouldn’t stop him from being anything else. Tightening my hands into fists on the thin fabric of the robe they gave me, I demand, “What was that?”

He sinks into one of the chairs in this tent, his eyes closing almost instantly. “We don’t have a name for it.”

Information, no bonds, and he sits in my presence like this? I truly am next to nothing in where threats are concerned. I didn’t feel like a hostage though. What was his end game?

“Where are your healers?”

“Died first.” He exhales before tilting his head down and opening his eyes again. My mouth goes dry at the words. I must pale considerably, because when he continues, it’s softly, “It’s not airborne, that’s all we know. It’s spread through contact. But we can never be too careful.” That explains the loss of the healers. They would have had to touch the people they were healing.

He looks bone tired in that position, and so very young. I remember Cal telling me that he was king for a day, and that it had been miserable. I wonder if this is what he had looked like during that day.

“What are you going to do with me and Mare?”

His lips twist in distaste. “I don’t know.”

“What would you trade us for?” I ask softly as I turn on the stool to face him. His eyes glint before he smiles ruefully and says, “An end to Montfort. They forced my people out, sent us into these hideous plains to try and eke out a living. All because we refused to bow to their will.”

“Their will is good. The people are free, there is no hatred and…”

“You didn’t look hard enough. There is hatred. It’s there, but it’s rooted deeply and hidden carefully.”

My lips draw into a tight line. It’s a poor excuse, and a poor argument. He probably has never even seen Montfort. If his father, and his father before him had been forced out. His hatred is breed in him. He probably doesn’t even truly believe in fighting this little campaign. “They could help you,” I whisper, “they could send healers… people to help.”

“Their healers would die just like ours did.”

“Not the ones like Mare… the Ardents. They’re stronger than silvers.”

He raises a brow at my words as I stand slowly and take a hesitant step toward him. “Trade us for healers, for medicine, and food, and water. Trade us to save your people, not chasing an ideal.” I have no idea if this will work, if he will listen to me. I’ve seen a glimmer of the truth beneath his façade though. He does not want this lofty goal that he claims to serve. He wants something else. I don’t need to be a whisper to see that.

He raises a brow at me, his expression searching for ground before he says softly, “I can see why your people loved you Coriane Jacos.”

I reel in surprise. My people had never loved me. They had feared me, and they had feared my ability. Even then, they never saw me. I had been Queen, but I had been a shadow. I barely made appearances. I wish I had though. I wish I had been stronger. That I could have found it in myself to be happy. Maybe I could have been there for Cal, maybe Elara would have never dug her claws into Tibe. I could have had strength and power. I just wasn’t strong enough to pretend.

I crouch down slowly and reach for his hand. He starts when I take it gently and whisper, “You have the chance to save your people. Trade us for what you need to save them.”

For a moment, I think he actually contemplates my words. His lips draw into a tight line a heartbeat later though, while his brows draw together. Yanking his hand from mine and rising from the chair, he growls, “You couldn’t possibly understand what has happened. My father lost his life fighting for our people to live once more. I will not be the one to let him die in vain.”

He storms out of the tent, leaving me dumbfound. Rising quickly from the dirt though, I rush for the entrance after him. When I reach it, Doria steps inside. She catches me, and pushing me backwards so that I have to catch myself on the vanity.

“Running away little song bird?”

I have no response. She chuckles at my silence, and takes Proteus’ place in the chair. Pulling out a knife to pick at her nails and cuticles, she says, “Proteus is too kind to you just because you’re silver. He should lock you up in that shed with the Red devil.”

The mention of Mare brings my head around so I can glare at her. “Where is she? What have you done to her?”

Smirking at my words, Doria looks up from her nails to say, “Nothing she didn’t deserve.”

My blood runs cold as I try to advance on her, stuttering over my threats. Before I can truly reach her though, she leaps to her feet and grabs my wrists. I yelp as she squeezes tight enough that my bones feel like they will shatter. She practically presses her nose to mine as she hisses, “Try to bewitch my king with your little songs, and I will find a hole in these plains and bury you so deep you won’t be able to dig yourself out when you return.”

She throws me backwards onto the mess of blankets that make up the bed. I scramble to right myself, and watch as she sinks back into the chair. She goes back to picking at her nails, and even though her eyes aren’t on me, I know that she is aware of my every move. If she stays here tonight, I doubt I’ll get any sleep, which leaves me with plenty of time to start planning an escape.

32 notes · View notes

itsreigns · 4 years

Text

It’s Real

Sheamus x Reader

(Y/N) has been pining over her best friend for a long time. Working on different brand put their relationship through a very rough path. And things only tend to get worse...

Words: 3,649

Requested by @shadow-of-wonder

TAG SQUAD:

Pining over Sheamus has been a constant in my life ever since I met him. He is my best friend, and honestly, I don’t know where I’d be without him. I actually think he doesn’t even have a clue of how much he matters, how important he is to me.

I can talk to him about anything, even things that may be difficult or uncomfortable to discuss. But he never judges me. Even if he doesn’t fully understand, he will always try his best to. There is nothing I’m afraid to share with him. Well, except for one thing.

That I am madly in love with him.

He’s the first person I want to share good news and bad news with. When we are on the way to the hotel from work, we talk about how our day went or whatever’s going on in our worlds. We’re able to have rational, thoughtful conversations, but we also have conversations about the most random things and we can just sit comfortably in silence as well.

We were attached to the hip. Always driving around together, going to the gym together… every kind of thing.

Until we were drafted to different brands.

When the draft happened, I was trying to gather up the courage to ask him out on an actual date, coming clean about how I truly saw him.

That never got to happen.

Since then, we’ve grown slightly apart. We still talked but not as much as before. Our calls got shorter, just as our texts, and we barely Facetimed. Long story short, we barely hung out anymore, because our schedules didn’t match.

It hurt, so bad. I could feel him and our friendship slipping through my fingers.

I missed him so much. Him as a whole. His touch… his voice… his laugh… the way he made me laugh. How he cared about me. How he always managed to get through me when I wasn’t feeling well. Everything.

So lately, all I had from him was every picture and video he put online. I go back to his Instagram only to see his face, his wide smile, in his photos. And I rewatch those videos over and over, especially when I am in bed, ready to sleep, letting his voice sink in.

At the beginning, it fulfilled the void and made me happy, but now… it only makes me sadder. It only makes me miss him more… miss us more.

Today, it’s Monday. I have lots of work to do backstage as Raw is airing in a couple of hours, because apparently some big things that only the bosses and creative know about are going down tonight, and... I’m feeling like shit. It’s one of those days.

Only to make it worse, I keep recalling the times when he’d notice I was feeling down. He’d whisper “Come here, lass.” and pull me into a warm side hug, as he ran his hand through my hair and pressed gentle kisses to my forehead.

How I wish I had that right now. I’m craving his affection. I need his affection. It’s becoming unbearable to be away from him. But apparently he was doing good away from me, so there’s no way I could ever change this.

I try to shrug off the knot of anxiety that was tightening my chest, so I could do the rest of my chores as well as I possibly could right now.

After almost two hours, I was done. It was hard to do it all, but I somehow managed. Then, I headed to the makeup and hair zone, looking for my friends Alexa and Zelina. Sadly, they were both occupied. Zelina was getting her makeup done, and Alexa was getting her hair braided.

They quickly asked if I was okay, and I managed to shoot them a fake smile as I nodded affirmatively. I don’t think they bought it, but… I just don’t want to worry them.

I then decide to go sit in the corner of that zone. There were some storing boxes there that the personnel used to keep heavy material for the stage, so I just hopped on top of one of them.

Reluctantly, I reach my back pocket and get my phone. I debate whether I should unlock it or not for a couple of minutes, but then I give in. I need to see his face.

With my hands shaking, I enter my Instagram, going straight to the search feature. Obviously, his name was right at the top of my searches. I open his profile and my heart quickly gets caught in my throat.

He had posted another picture. But he wasn’t alone. There’s a girl right by his side. A very stunning girl, tucked right into him for the picture. My stomach starts flipping, and I feel myself starting to get sick, wanting to throw up.

I didn’t even bother to read any descriptions or check tags. My assumptions have been made and they were clear as water. He was dating her.

I quickly returned to the main page of his profile and unfollowed him. I just can’t bare the thought of having to see more pictures like that one. Or even cozier… more romantic pictures. I’m almost throwing up again with nervousness just by thinking about it.

It felt like a slap to my face and I was still numb. I closed the app and set my phone on the box carelessly. I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t ready for it. I didn’t even know he had met someone, let alone be dating.

This made me realize how clueless I was being. He didn’t need me anymore, that’s why he barely reached out lately. He had someone else to do the things we used to do together.

I let him forget all about me.

No, I did not let him forget me. He forgot me. I quickly rearranged my thoughts. It was not my fault that he didn’t care about me or our friendship. I was not at fault in this.

With this, I decided that I was going to let him go and get over this, because I am a strong bitch. Yes, those were the exact words I kept telling myself in my head. I am strong and I will not let him see how much it’s affecting me.

Not that he’s around to, he’s obviously a little busy isn’t he? The nagging voice was back but was quickly shoved to the back of my mind when I was suddenly joined by Alexa.

She sat down next to me and stared at me for a couple of seconds before actually speaking up.

“Are you okay?” She asks carefully, trying to read me. “I- Well, we’ve seen Shea-”

“I am fine. And I don’t want to hear or talk about it.” I know I sounded snappy, but I just don’t want to talk about the fresh wound on my heart. I want to push this to the depths of my soul and not remember it or him ever again.

“Okay. I’ll respect that.” She sighs heavily as she rubs my knee soothingly. “But if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me right away, okay?”

I nodded in response but was eyed suspiciously by Alexa. I knew what it meant so I said what she wanted to hear.

“I promise Lexie.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek before leaving. And there I was, sitting in a corner, alone with my thoughts again. I honestly don’t even know how much time has passed since I saw it.

I could see people passing by and I definitely could hear the fans’ screams and shouts echoing in the arena, and damn, they were loud tonight. But I was way too numb to pay attention to any of it.

Finally, after God knows how long, I snapped out of it. When I stand up, my body feels like ten times its weight. It feels like I’ve been beaten down by someone and I’m just lugging myself around like deadweight.

And I was. Emotionally. But it’s still a beatdown.

I make my way towards my shared locker room to gather my things so I can finally go to my hotel room and just wallow in my thoughts all by myself.

Picking up my backpack, I head out of the room. I know I was dragging myself around but I just can’t pretend anymore. I just can’t. I am devastated. In two seconds, I realized I lost my best friend and the man I love. My brain is all over the place and I just want to take a shower and then lay down and sleep. Sleep so I can forget all this mess.

I’m halfway through the parking lot when I hear someone calling out my name.

That’s enough to make me stop in my tracks. I know that voice all too well and I am hesitant to turn around. Firstly, because I am afraid that I’m starting to lose my mind and hearing things. Secondly, I’m terrified that he is in fact right behind me.

“(Y/N).” The voice says again, this time more firm and confident.

I got chills running down my spine. My whole body is shaking. I definitely didn’t want to do this right now. I don’t want to look in his eyes. Not now. I think everything will come crashing down once I do so. Taking a deep shaky breath, I try to keep walking towards my rental.

“(Y/N)!” He yells this time, sounding closer to me than before. “Can you please stop for a minute and look at me?” He stops me by grabbing my arm gently.

“No, I can’t.” I choke out, keeping my gaze on the cemented ground. “I just want to leave. So just please, let me go.”

My sight is getting blurry from the tears that have formed in my eyes, as I was practically begging him to let me go. It was pitiful, I know, but I couldn’t stand being this close when I’m nothing to him anymore.

With this, I pull my arm out of his grasp with one motion and I can feel his stare burning through my back as I walk away. Deep down, I wished he’d stop me again, that he’d hug me and tell me that he missed me, that he wanted to be at least my friend.

But he didn’t.

He just watched.

He just watched me walk away. From him. From his life. He didn’t say a goddamn word. And it killed me.

As soon as I get to the car, the tears start falling down my cheeks. I am in so much pain that it almost feels like actual physical pain. My whole body hurts. My head feels like a balloon. I can’t even breathe straight.

I cried all the way back to the hotel. Dangerous as I know it is, I drove most of the way on autopilot. I don’t even remember most of it, to be quite honest.

The woman in the reception looks at me with pity written in her features, probably wondering why my eyes are all red and puffy, why I look like a fucking mess. She was nice about it though. Kathryn, as read on her name tag, offers me a sweet smile every time she has to talk to me and let me know some information regarding the room and the hotel, which I couldn’t focus on, considering my state. But when she gave me the key, I was able to give her a small smile, that she returned delicately.

I’m finally in my room. Tossing out my clothes carelessly on the floor, I head to the bathroom and turn on the water. I take a good look at myself in the mirror.

Fuck… I do look like a hot ass mess. Running my hands down my face, a sob runs through my body once again. How could a single person hurt another so badly? How could a human endure this kind of pain?

I get under the hot water, letting it fall down my tense and broken body, wanting it to wash away all the pain and sadness that is running through my veins right now. I just stand there as I get it all out of my system.

It’s about 20 minutes later when I turn the water off. Grabbing a towel, I dry myself lazily before heading to my suitcase and pulling out some panties, an old shirt and some lazy sweatpants to wear.

After putting them on, I collapse on the bed, feeling so drained and exhausted from all the nerves and all the crying.

When I am finally drifting off to sleep, there is a light knock on the door. It was so light that it almost seemed someone was knocking on a door near mine. Suddenly, there’s another knock. This one way more confident.

It’s probably Lexie. I left without telling her anything, and I didn’t text her. She was probably worried sick, and I feel terrible about it now.

I get up and head to the door, opening it. “Lexie, I am so sorry-”

My words are cut short when I get face to face with the person who was knocking at my door. I find myself staring at the face I was dreading to look at ever since that happened.

He has this weird look on his eyes, I can’t quite put my finger on it. But I absolutely don’t want to do this right now. I need to sleep on it, get some rest first. So I go and try to close the door before any words are exchanged.

But he stops me, preventing the door from closing with his arm. He’s much stronger than I am, so he manages to pull the door open and get inside, closing it behind him. I sigh in defeat, retreating back to the bed and sitting down, leaning against the headboard, as he stands in front of my bed, hands tucked in his jeans’ pockets.

“Care to tell me what the fuck is going on, (Y/N)?” He says, an indecipherable tone lacing his voice. I can’t tell if it’s anger, disappointment, hurt, care or everything altogether.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I manage to say when I find my voice, moving my gaze to my hands, currently set in my lap.

“What have I done to you, (Y/N)?” He sounds almost desperate now.

“I just said I don’t want to talk about it, Sheamus.” It hurts so much even just hearing him say my name. This is too painful.

“You used to talk to me about anything. What changed?”

“You did.” I say before I can stop myself. He furrows his brows in slight confusion, urging me to keep talking. “Everything did.”

“I know we haven’t talked much lately, but you know I care and think about you every day.” He tries to reason, but I wasn’t having it.

“No, you don’t.” I mumble, once again staring down at my hands, as a sad chuckle leaves my lips.

“Yes, I do.” He looks down at me in disbelief.

I feel tears in my eyes once more today, and honestly I was done crying. I avert my gaze down again, burying my head in my hands. Feeling the bed shift, I quickly feel Sheamus’ hand making contact with my thigh, caressing me gently. I wanted to slap his hand away, but I was craving his touch so, so much that I couldn’t find it in my heart to do it.

Suddenly, the girl pops up in my mind again.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I snap, flinching away from him. “She won’t like it. You need to go to her. You need to leave.”

“Who’s she, (Y/N)? I swear you’re not making any sense.”

I am not looking at him but I can tell by his tone that he’s genuinely confused, which makes me even more distressed.

“The girl.” I finally look at him. He looks so concerned and confused. “In your photo. I saw it. I think everyone did.” I mumble, once more not being able to maintain eye contact with him.

“You mean the picture I posted today?” He asks, and I only nod. “Are you serious?” Now, he was smiling and I couldn’t see what was so funny. “Was that why you were like this back at the parking lot, and right now?” He asks carefully, looking at me intently.

It was now or never. I had to do it.

I nod.

“That- That was Josie. Don’t you remember? That friend I had from Ireland, that I told you about?”

Suddenly, there’s light in my brain. I do remember him talking about her. They were very good friends when they were kids back in Ireland.

“I- I remember.” I admit, blushing and feeling bad as hell.

“Didn’t you read the caption?” He asks, tilting his head to the side as he smiles at me. I shake my head no, and he lets out a light chuckle. “You have nothing to worry about. She’s just an old friend, and we were just catching up.” Meanwhile as he spoke, his hand found his way to my thigh once more.

I was blushing as hell but I was trying to fight everything I was feeling. I didn’t want to read too much into this and get my hopes up.

He takes a moment to stare at me, as if trying to read me or understand me. But I never said anything. I think anything I would’ve said at that moment would have ruined everything.

“Look, (Y/N)...” He trails off, glancing down at my shaky hands. “I hope I’m not reading too much into this, but… if you… if you feel something, I need you to tell me.”

That’s it. Our friendship is over. This is the part where he obviously tells me that he can’t be my friend if I love him.

“Why do you need to know that?” I say, very upset. “You don’t need to let me down gently. You don’t like me like that, we can’t be friends. I get it. Now can you go?” I plead with my eyes filled with tears once more as I fully face him.

“No, I can’t go, (Y/N).”

I’m crying again. Why is he torturing me? Why can’t he just leave me alone?

“Why are you making this so goddamn difficult, Sheamus? I swear-”

I’m not even finished talking when I feel his lips pressed against mine. I am in complete shock. It takes me a few seconds to process what is happening. He pecks me one time very gently and pulls back.

Our faces are the closest they’ve ever been. Our gazes locked. Our foreheads resting against each other. His hand cradling my face so delicately.

“I’m not making this so goddamn difficult. I’m trying to simplify it.” He whispers as his thumb caresses my cheek.

I launch myself into his arms, hugging him. He hooks his arms around my midsection, pulling me into his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist. I hug him so tight, as if I’d never get the chance to do it again.

“I missed you so much, (Y/N). You have no idea how much.” He mumbles against my neck. “Being away from you, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I couldn’t go another day without seeing you.”

This statement makes my stomach twist up in knots again. He has to go back.

“You have to go back though…” I say sadly.

“I don’t.”

“What?!” I can’t disguise my excitement. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I was moved back to Raw again.” He smiles widely, seeing how happy I was with the news.

“Oh my God! This is amazing! I missed you so much.” I smile, and before I could stop myself, I peck his lips. I pull back abruptly, once I take notice of what I was doing. “I am so sorry. I- You- ” I’m rambling and I just can’t stop myself. “I’m sorry.��

“Don’t be.” He reassures, hooking a finger under my chin and making me look up at him. “I know I’m not. You know why?” I shake my head no. “Because I love you.”

There’s silence for awhile. We’re just staring at each other, letting his words sink in.

“You know I love you too, right?”

“I was kind of hoping you did.” He laughs lightly. “But I can’t say I wasn’t scared shitless that you didn’t.”

“I do. I always did.” You whisper, pecking his lips again. “I love you, Sheamus.”

That somehow triggers something in him. He’s kissing me now, so intensely, I think I’m passing out soon. He licks my upper lip, begging for entrance. I can’t stop the moan that leaves my mouth, granting him the so wished access.

His tongue starts massaging and crashing against mine, as the kiss turned into a makeout session. I’ve dreamed about this for so long, it still seemed like a dream.

The kiss is growing hotter by the second. I, being the teaser I am, start grinding my hips against his, earning a deep growl from him.

Suddenly, he breaks the kiss. “I need to ask you something.” I nod, waiting for the question. “Will you be my girlfriend?”.

“Of course I want to be your girlfriend.”

As soon as those words leave my lips, his come crashing on mine again. He pecks my lips a dozen times before we pull back and hug each other.

“Pinch me, so I know this is real.” I laugh stupidly, hiding my face in his neck.

The bastard bites my collarbone gently and I yelp in surprise.

“See? It’s real.”

Give me some feedback please?

#wwe imagine #sheamus x reader #sheamus fic #sheamus imagine #wwe fic #wwe fanfic #wwe oneshot #wwe fanfiction #wwe reader insert #wwe x reader #sheamus oneshot #sheamus one shot #sheamus fanfic #sheamus fanfiction

156 notes · View notes

pra370r1an · 3 years

Text

Lost Santos Dreams - TOH/Fake AH Crossover

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233251 TW: Blood, Violence, Death

New to Los Santos, the Beta crew dream to make it big. However, they're about to learn the hard way why the top gang has an almost mythical status in the criminal underworld...

“I’m not wearing that!”

“Oh, calm down. It’s cute!”

“I said I wanted a lion, Noceda!” Amity snarled.

“It is a lion!” Luz held up the lion mask, complete with a bright cheerful smile and rosy cheeks.

“I wanted a fierce one, not a children’s mask! There was a bloody lion mask there last week, why didn’t you get that one!?”

“Then you should have bought them! Besides this way we match!” Luz held up her own mask, a winking otter with a wide smile. “Back me up here Willow!”

Willow sat driving next to Luz, sunny sunflower mask already on her face. She turned and briefly glanced at Luz, who was half turned around to see Amity in the back of the van.

“This seems like a lot of arguing for something we are going to destroy later, since its EVIDENCE.”

“Oh, you’re both no fun,” Luz sat back and pouted. She tossed the lion mask into the back, “Just wear the damn thing, Blight.”

A voice crackled in her earpiece, “Are you guys done fighting each other? Cuz there’s still a job to do.”

Willow raised a finger to her ear to respond, “They’re fine Gus. Just how they are. Now we’re almost there so codenames people. Illusionist run us through one last time.”

“You got it Venus. The three of you go in. Princess kills security and controls the crowd while Luzura beelines to the tellers and stops the panic buttons.”

“Don’t fuck it up Luzura,” Amity teased from the backseat.

“SHHH, I’m trying to listen,” Luz whispered overly dramatically while pointing towards her earpiece.

“Quiet in the peanut gallery,” Gus deadpanned. “Meanwhile, Venus grabs the manager and grabs whatever she can from the vault.” Willow grunted from the front seat, too focused on driving in a mask to contribute. “All the while, I’ll work my magic and keep the alarms off and the cops off your backs. Simple.”

“It’s never that simple Twerp,” Amity grumbled as she put the mask on, and fixed her hair over it. The dyed green hair forming the lion’s mane around her mask.

“Why do you keep calling me that, Princess?” Gus groaned. “Alright I’m all set up here, ready to go when you are.”

“We’re here,” Willow pulled over outside of Grand National Bank.

“What’s that tag?” Luz looked at some graffiti on the bank by an alley, a green rubber duckie encircled in a green crosshair.

“It’s how gangs claim territory in Los Santos,” Amity double checked her rifle before cocking it. “It’s nothing to worry about. No self-respecting gang would use a rubber duckie,” She scoffed.

“You did check this place with Ed- er… the Owl Lady, right?” Luz asked Willow. “I don’t want our first official act in this city to be piss off a major gang.”

“It’s fine Luzura,” Willow double checked her body armor.

“Would you stop worrying?” Amity snapped. “We’ll be in and out before anyone is the wiser.”

Luz glared back at Amity, “Fine.” She grabbed her bat and opened the door.

The girls exited the van, and Luz took the three in. Willow had her usual trenchcoat on, hair cut short and combat boots, the sunflower mask a sharp difference from her outfit. Amity for some reason wore a bright pink outfit, skirt and all; which with the smiling lion mask gave a vibe of cheerleader at Halloween. Only the spiked bracelets and collar contributed to the danger of the AK she wielded. Luz had stuck with the classic, a striped shirt and green army jacket with a beanie. Of course, the winking otter mask sealed the deal.

With a quick nod, the three hurried up the stairs. Luz was the first to the door bodychecking it open and sprinting inside. Willow hurried in next and Amity strolled casually after, her assault rifle already leveling at the security guards.

Willow raised her pistol and let out a burst into the air, Civilians screamed and cowered away from them.

“HANDS UP AND GET DOWN NOW!” Amity threatened the under armed security guards with her ‘Blight’ voice. A tone which commanded respect.

Luz, running a fair distance ahead, raised her bat and slammed it into a lone guard on the other side as she passed. The man crumpled and Luz kicked open the door to the tellers.

“ALRIGHT HANDS UP! THIS IS A STICK UP!” She shouted as she threatened the tellers with her pistol. The tellers threw their hands away from the panic buttons and towards the ceiling.

“Oh my god, can you be more cliche?” Amity grumbled.

“No fighting,” Willow commanded as she hauled some well-dressed man up off the floor. “Ok, Mister Manager. Time to see the safe.”

“I-I don’t understand! We paid for this month, why are you here!?”

“Shut up and move!” Willow shoved him towards the back.

Luz meanwhile led all the tellers out of their room and had them lay with the rest of the hostages. Amity patrolled the room, her rifle just itching and a growl in her throat.

“Tellers secured,” Luz announced as the last person exited the room.

“Good work Luzura. How’s it going in the vault Venus?” Gus asked.

“This asshole won’t stop blabbing about the Fakes? Ever heard of them?”

“Sounds familiar, but I’m not too up on West Coast criminals.”

“The Owl Lady would know probably,” Luz said into her ear piece.

“Who cares? Let’s just get the money and get out,” Amity shook her head.

“Alright we’re good. Heading back upfront,” Willow gave the call after a few minutes. “How’s the street look Illusionist?”

“Looks good on my end. Wait…” Sounds of rapid typing filled their earpieces. “There’s someone else in the system. Fuck they’re good.”

“What? Who? Cops? Bank IT?” Willow sounded incredulous, as she tossed some bags to the others. Luz slung hers over her shoulder before turning towards the doors.

“Too good for them. Fuck, I don’t know what they want but you might not have too much time.”

“It’s fine we’re done here,” Luz shoved the door open with her shoulder.

“LUZURA GET DOWN!”

The van at the bottom of the steps exploded, knocking Luz on her ass in the open door. Looking around she saw a sports car parked a bit further down, the driver dropping an empty rpg tube into the backseat. He idly fixed his purple suit jacket (over an orange shirt? Who wears that?) and ran a finger along his white Stetson towards Luz with a smirk.

A lanky well-dressed blonde in gold sunglasses grinned next to the passenger seat, but it was when the trunk closed and two more people stepped around to the front that Luz moved.

She scrambled backwards, slamming the door closed and started shouting at everyone, “GET BACK! AWAY FROM THE DOOR! MOVE QUICK!”

She dove over the central desk as bullets started flying through the door, peppering it with holes. Outside the noise was unrelenting as the thick wooden doors were slowly turned to scraps. Luz thought she heard screams but couldn’t tell if it was civilians or her friends as she huddled behind her cover.

After what seemed an eternity, first one then another door fell off the hinges absolutely wrecked. The hail of gunfire stopped, though the ringing in Luz’s ears continued.

Gus’s voice was the first thing to pierce the ringing, “Guys!? What’s going on!? I lost visual feed!”

“I-I’m ok!” Willow sounded unsure for the first time since Luz met her. “Princess? Luzura? What was that?”

“That would be company toasting our ride!” Luz responded, using the lull to check her gun. “No way that was cops! What kind of bank did you bring me to!?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s a mob bank. A well-armed one. Ah Fuck!” Amity grunted in pain.

“You going soft on us Princess?” Luz asked with no small amount of concern.

“In your dreams, Luzura,” Amity snarled.

Luz went to say something else but a high British voice called out, “Now that is how you make an entrance Boi!” Gripping her pistol and bat, Luz slowly looked over the counter seeing the four enter the door. The lanky well-dressed man with golden shades was gesturing around with a golden deagle and a grin.

Next to him, a man in a leather jacket scowled at the Brit, “Yeah, that’s why I did it, idiot!” The man’s minigun still smoked from pulverizing the door.

“Aww, Mogar. Let him have his fun,” A redhead woman laughed as she draped herself over sunglasses.

“Can you guys focus?” The color clashing cowboy cocked his AK, “Hey Fuckers! You and your friends are dead!”

“Whelp. We’re screwed,” Luz whispered into her earpiece.

“Giving up already Luzura?” Amity’s laugh turned to a hiss.

“That’s it! I’m heading over! Where the fuck’s my gun!?”

“Chill Illusionist! There’s only four, and if it’s their bank they won’t use that minigun inside. They’re all bluster,” Luz could almost hear the gears turning in Willow’s head.

“They already used it on the door and Princess is hurt, we’re still at a disadvantage,” Luz shot back, trying to keep sight on the four without being seen. The three had started moving further into the bank, while leather jacket (Mogar?) stood guard at the door.

“It’s just a scratch,” Amity hissed.

“Ok, an AK and two pistols. AK is heading left of the doors and pistols are going right,” Willow must have a better vantage than Luz. “Princess move towards the AK and try to get a drop on them. I’ll go the other way and try to draw the pistols away. Luzura stay down and wait for an opportunity.”

“Copy,” Amity responded.

“What about the mini?” Luz asked.

“It’s intimidation Luzura!” Amity snapped.

Luz only grumbled as she checked her pistol for the twentieth time. She could hear someone just on the other side of her cover.

“Come out, come out where ever you are…,” The redhead sang softly. Luz tensed with her pistol, watching the lip of the counter.

Suddenly, Willow’s automatic pistol barked to Luz’s right. “Ahh! Shite!” The Brit’s gun fired twice, “Phoenix, a little help!?”

The redhead groaned, “C’mon Golden Boy. You can’t take one pistol?” Luz saw her moving forward to take cover by the teller windows, not noticing the girl behind her.

“HEY FUCKER!” Amity’s AK barked on the other side of the bank, “ARE YOU COLORBLIND OR SOME SHIT!? I MEAN PURPLE AND ORANGE!?”

“SAYS THE GIRL WHO CAN’T DECIDED BETWEEN PUNK OR PREP!” More automatic fire rang out. “THOUGHT YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!”

“Ok, OK! I’M IN! …and I’m out…” Gus called out, “Shit. This fucker is good.”

Willow’s pistol let out another burst, and Golden Boy’s gun shot back. The redhead leaned forward to peek over the teller window, and Luz lined up her pistol. As she was about to pull the trigger, Willow’s gun fired and bullets bounced off the bullet proof glass above Phoenix’s head.

The redhead ducked from the fire; her head turned to press against the counter. The girl’s eyes went wide as she met Luz’s stare.

“FUCK!” The redhead spun pulling her gun up. But Luz’s gun barked in panic unloading the gun into center mass.

Behind Luz a wail was heard, before the whirling sound of a minigun coming to speed was heard. Luz hated being right.

She shot up and ran to the left, as bullets started flying shredding her hiding spot. Running as fast as she could, hyper aware of the hot lead that seemed one step behind her.

“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!”

Luz dove into an empty office just as the gunshots turned to clicking of an empty chamber. Mogar screamed again, and a large metal thud sounded as the empty minigun landed close to the office door.

“LUZ!?” Amity shouted in concern.

“Fuck that was close,” Luz kicked the wood door shut then scrambled behind the desk. Gunshots rang out outside the office, and Luz patted herself down looking for another mag. Finding one last mag she reloaded, “Bad news guys, I lost my mask. How are you?”

“Only you Luz…” Willow sighed.

“Dumbass,” Amity’s AK barked again.

“Love ya too,” Luz chanced a peek through the window. Mogar was kneeling by Phoenix, holding her hand. He leaned down and cupped her face for a moment before standing up and firing a bullet into her head. He turned snarling towards Luz.

“Shit!” Luz ducked back down, holding her bat and gun tightly. “These guys are fucking hardcore. He just executed his teammate!”

“Fuck!” Amity growled, “How are we going to get out of here Venus?”

…

“Venus?”

“Oh, sorry. Was that this lovely bird with the trenchcoat?” Golden boy’s accented voice came through the earpiece. “She can’t come to the phone right now. May I take a message?” He asked in good humor.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!?” Gus roared over the coms.

“Nothing she didn’t try to do to me, I assure you mate. Besides, if you didn’t try to rob from the FAKES then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Gus continued to yell and rage but Luz was distracted by the gunfire shattering the windows in the office she was hiding at. Luz yelled in surprise covering her head from the glass.

“LUZ,” Amity screamed over the comms, her gun going off again. “JUST DIE YOU FUCKER!”

“Hey! Ottergirl!” Mogar yelled, “You killed my wife you Bitch!” He fired off a few more times with his pistol, “Come out coward!” His gun clicked empty.

“I’m no coward! Now eat this Sucker!” Luz shot up and unloaded her pistol at the man. He stood there calmly reloading as the shots flew by him, the entire time glaring at Luz. Luz slowly lowered her empty pistol, “So…Would you accept a heartfelt apology?”

Mogar growled, stuffing his pistol back into its holster. He cracked his knuckles and neck as he strode confidently into the office. Luz tossed the empty gun at him, then raised her bat.

Luz swung, keeping Mogar on the other side of the desk. He snarled at each swing, before grabbing a chair and chucking it at Luz. Luz yelped and swung her bat, smacking it away. This was the opening Mogar was waiting for, and he went low driving a fist into her stomach. Quick as a flash, his other fist connected with her face.

Luz’s head rung and she tried to get away, swinging her bat rather weakly in a vain attempt. Mogar easily blocked it and grabbed Luz, throwing her over the desk and back into the bank proper.

Luz rolled to a stop, using her bat to attempt to get up. She wiped some blood from her lip and glared at Mogar.

“HEY!” Amity yelled from the side. She stood there sans mask with a pistol under the cowboy’s neck, holding him hostage. “Let her go or this colorblind idiot gets it.”

“Again, it’s very insulting when you say that. I am not an idiot,” The man slowly reached up and took his hat off.

Mogar huffed and pulled his gun out.

“Hey! I mean it!” Amity shouted, forcing the gun into his neck even harder.

“I’ll see you back at base Rimmy Tim,” Mogar leveled his gun at the pair. Luz tried to stand but fell back to her knees.

“Just make sure you bring my hat this time. Don’t feel like another raid on the evidence locker this week,” Rimmy Tim smiled completely at ease as Mogar pulled the trigger.

Amity looked shocked as Rimmy Tim went limp, dropping his body and looking at the blood that smeared onto her hand. “What the fuck?” Several gunshots rang out and Amity dropped.

“NO!”

Luz drove her bat towards Mogar’s legs, knocking him onto his back. She jumped on top swinging. They devolved into an absolutely feral fistfight. Both giving as much as they got, as they rolled round trying to gain the upper hand.

Climbing on top once again, Luz slammed a fist into his face. In the daze she managed to get her hands around the man’s neck. Mogar snarled up at the girl, his hands trying to break her grip or punch her off. But in her rage, Luz was beyond caring of a few punches.

Pistol-whipping, however?

A shiny gold handle slammed into Luz’s head, knocking her off Mogar who gasped for breath. Luz’s vision swam for a second before clearing back up. Faintly she was aware of Gus yelling, seeing as her earpiece was knocked out of her ear.

“Now, now. None of that Love,” The Golden Boy’s voice casually said. “Too much killing already so I can’t have you offing my boi.” He shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Fuck you and your Boy!” Luz spat out some blood. “He killed my Girl!”

“You killed my wife…” Mogar choked out between coughs. The Golden Boy rolled his eyes.

“So dramatic. Sorry Love, all’s fair and all that,” The Golden Boy leveled his golden deagle at Luz’s face. “That’s just how the milk crumbles the biscuit sometimes.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Mogar snarled at the Golden Boy.

“Oi! Don’t be rude, Micoo!” Was the second to last thing Luz heard.

BLAM

Luz shot up, looking around wildly before realizing she was in the bedroom of her new apartment. She winced at the horrible headache splitting her skull. Her sheets were covered in sweat and she panted from the scarily clear nightmare she had just awoken from. With a sigh of relief, she fell back onto her pillow to stare at the ceiling, cursing the throbbing headache that clearly influenced her dreams.

Unfortunately, her tentative plans to just go back to sleep to avoid dealing with said headache was cut short with a ringing phone. With a groan, she patted her pockets for her cell. Idly she realized she must have fell asleep without changing into her pajamas, as she pulled her work cell out and answered.

“What!?” Normally, she was more chipper but the headache felt as if it sucked all the life from her.

“Christ, Luz! Finally!” Amity snarled with a bit of relief. “Willow! I got Noceda!” Amity called into the background before asking the one question she never asked Luz, “Are you ok?”

“What? Yeah, just got a throbbing headache. And apparently, I slept in my body armor,” Luz’s free hand started unstrapping the Velcro on her armor. “That’d explain that freaky dream I had.”

“That we tried to rob Grand National Bank then were killed by a rival gang?”

Luz stopped, concern forcing its way into her thoughts, “How did you know that Amity…?”

“You should turn the news on Luz…”

Luz sat still for a second, before shooting off the bed. Scrambling into the next room, she grabbed the remote and flicked the tv on.

“-orning gang violence erupted down at Grand National Bank, as two rival criminal factions had a shootout in the front lobby. There are reports of numerous casualties as well as the criminals getting away with thousands of dollars. Eyewitness accounts claim several of the assailants fell during the shootout, but LSPD has refused to comment.”

The blood rushed to Luz’s ears and the news reporters’ words seemed to become distant as they showed pictures and grainy video of the shootout. There her and her friends reenacted the dreams events as they faced off against the FAKES. She slumped onto her couch and just watched.

Slowly she became aware of someone calling her name from far away. Looking down she realized that her cell was still connected.

She put it against her ear again, “What the FUCK happened!?”

#The Owl House #achievement hunter #Fake AH Crew #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Willow Park #Gus Porter #Betas #Michael Jones #Lindsay Jones #Gavin Free #Jeremy Dooley #Immortal AU #GTA AU #pra370r1an

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ktheist · 4 years

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sixteen.

chapters: 15 / 16 / 17

knight!jungkook x princess!reader

The carriage rocks gently from time-to-time. It is the only thing filling the silence between you and the Crown Prince. You keep the hand that accepted his outstretched one when you were about to enter the carriage after him, but that was only because the King and Queen were watching a few feet away. They wanted to send you two off. Noticing the Queen’s distraught expression, you smile to yourself.

You never talked ever since. That is, until the carriage comes to a halt and not a moment later, Sir Kim knocks on the door, followed by his voice a second later, “your highness, it seems we must take a different route.”

Taehyung glances at your frowning expression, as if wondering the same thing before stepping out of the carriage. You stretch your body to peek from the open door.

A few feet ahead, a boulder is seen stuck in the middle of the path. Surely, it’s impossible for the carriage to go around it.

“I see.” Taehyung seems deep in thought while your heart clenches inside your chest.

Rerouting would take about more than a day and you’ve wasted almost a whole day already on this journey. By the time you get there, the funeral would have been over. Would you get in trouble if you were to go ahead and let the rest of the delegate take a different route?

While you are deep in thought, preparations are being made to find the fastest and closest route. Sir Kim has pulled out a map and laid it out on the ground.

“Fetch me a horse,” you finally say, “one that can run as fast as the wind.”

“Y-your highness?” Eunha, having left her own carriage to accompany you and offer some treats that were packed for the journey, asks in a perplexed tone.

“I shall ride ahead,” the dress clutched in your hands are weighty as you step off the carriage.

“Forgive me, your highness,” Sir Kim lowers his head, “it is my men and I’s duty to ensure the safety of your royal highnesses but there would not be enough horses to gather in such a short notice.”

The stare you let linger on the knight is forbidding, so much so, his eyes begin to wander to the map on the ground, then to his shoes. Anything besides your gaze.

It is Taehyung’s deliberate sigh that cuts through the tension, “The Princess and I shall ride first.”

You cut through the wind with ease. One of the footman had found a villager near by who had been all-too-willing to serve the future King and Queen. The knight had passed the elderly man a bag of gold coins and in no time, you were galloping past the boulder and away from the delegates.

Your heart soars at the magnificent sight the great walls. The outer wall has been fully rebuilt after Taehyung called a strike on it.

“The princess! She’s back!” Someone shouts from as you pass the town on the edge of the city.

One by one, the town begin to cheer and wave. Taehyung’s white stallion joins your side not too long after you’ve come to a strut.

“Sister!” Minju engulfs you into a tight hug as soon as you get off the horse. News spreads fast. She has been waiting for you at the gates anxiously.

You laugh at your little sister’s eagerness, reluctant to pry her loving arms from you but you do so anyway and greet your brother.

“Your majesty,” you courtesy.

Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head, “The coronation is in two days, until then, I’m still the Prince.”

The upturn of your lips seem to be glued permanently as you wrap your arms around your brother. He pats your head like he always does before hugging you back.

“Is it just the two of you?” Minju inquires, curiously looking over Taehyung’s shoulder for the rest of the delegate.

You recollect the events that unfolded just a few hours earlier, making her nod in understanding. However, her eyebrows knit together as she mentions a certain faithful knight of yours.

“Sir Jeon stayed back? I figured he’d follow you to the ends of the earth.”

It feels like the seconds stretches on to hours as tension rise in the seemingly casual conversation. You resist the urge to look at Taehyung, to see his exact expression as his lies begin to unravel. He doesn’t know you know where he kept Jungkook imprisoned for the crime of ‘stealing’ from the palace.

“Brother, did you not summon him back because he is to serve you instead?”

Seokjin’s face scrunches as he searches his memories for such action, “I don’t remember doing so. No - I’m certain I do not want someone like as my person.”

Your footsteps come to a halt almost instantly, “but his highness mentioned a letter from you claiming to have summoned Sir Jeon back...” you pause as you study the aforementioned man’s expression, “the Crown Prince couldn’t possibly have lied, could he?”

“I’m sure there’s been a mistake,” Taehyung laments with ease but doesn’t meet your gaze.

“Are you saying my brother has been careless in handling the arm forces’ affairs?”

“Not at all.”

“Your highness,” you feel your face scrunching unpleasantly as you step in front of the man, forcing him to gaze straight into your pained eyes, “I asked you where Sir Jeon went and you told me my brother had summoned him back. D-did you lie?”

Taehyung’s eye twitches just the slightest bit but he does not respond. It comes off as a pleasant surprise to you as you’ve been preparing arguments to counter him in the event that he chooses to continue with his lie.

“Princess, I think you’re just tired.” His warm hands rests on your shoulders but you shrug them off as if they burn like fire.

“Don’t touch me!” The scream cuts through the air like thunder. There’s no turning back now. “You liar! You - you - I can’t believe I trusted you.”

You don’t know what tore the indifferent mask apart. Perhaps the scream or perhaps the word ‘trust’ (you doubt it, but he’s been acting differently since... that night). Tears wet your cheeks but your eyes remain on him. Anger, betrayal they pool together into a loathsome stare until Minju pulls on your side gently.

“Your highness, is this true?” Those are the last words you hear Seokjin utter before disappearing around the corner.

The delegates arrive a day later and so do you, officially at least. You have a plain black dress on with a similar-colored hat and gloves. Your mother, brother and sister stand together at the dock as you force yourself to remain with the foreign delegates.

As a Princess who married into the Southern Kingdom, you must do what is best to represent the country. It would allow rumors to spread to enemy kingdoms if you followed your emotions and left your common law husband’s side. No words are exchanged since yesterday’s outburst. You’ve decided against requesting a different room in fear for the spread of rumor so you go to bed early and wake up before he does, only meeting him again for the funeral.

Your mother’s wails are heard over the mournful silence as a clergyman pushes the family regalia-encrusted boat further into the lake. A footman approaches your sister with a bow and arrow while a maid holds a bucket of flames.

Minju hates violence and naturally, she chooses to spend her time learning etiquette, embroidery and everything except joining her elder brother and sister in fencing. But she’s the best archer you’ve met, her skills almost rivaling that of the head of the battalion. Ironic how an arrow could pierce through a heart without the target even seeing it yet it is deemed a less fatal sports.

The boat lights up in flames, looking like dancing phoenix. And as just like the phoenix, you hope the soul of a great King will be reborn just as courageous and magnificent in his next life.

After the funeral, a small banquet is held in the Silver Room. The ladies of the aristocratic families offer their condolences to your sister but fail to acknowledge you. Their dislike towards you is still deep-rooted. You notice one of them to be the daughter of the council who you fired. You heard Seokjin has been ruling without an advisory council since you married. Their families must have lost a significant amount of influence among the other aristocrats. Now, all they can do is hope for the royal family’s favor and the Crown Prince’s hand in marriage, or perhaps become a second wife.

Taehyung finds his way to you, whispering lowly, “may I speak to you?”

Without even looking at him, you speak, “not unless it is the truth.”

A long pause lapses between you as the prince loses himself in his thoughts.

“He stole from the royal kitchen,” he offers but knows it’s not enough, “now he’s imprisoned in the tower in the left wing.”

You take a moment. A heartbeat to collect yourself as the remembrance of your knight on the first day you found him plays at the back of your mind. The food must not have been sustainable. The water supply was limited. And the bed was created out of straws.

“Release him.” The finality in your tone says it all: either that or nothing. You don’t know if you should be surprised or glad when the answer comes in simple form of agreement.

“Very well.”

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duskowithapen · 4 years

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I’ll Come Back (When You Call Me) Chapter Two

Read Chapter One

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No Need To Say Goodbye

Ciri had always known there was more to Julien – Jaskier, his names Jaskier – than meets the eye. The way her Grandmother, who didn’t submit to anyone, allowed Jaskier to essentially do as he wished around the castle with no reaction but a tension to her lips and jaw. The way he never became cold, even in the darkest depths of winter. The way he was always brighter, happier, more vibrant than anyone else in court.

As the flames surrounding her died down, Ciri wondered how she never realised just how much more Jaskier was.

And then all such thoughts left her mind, as the bard crumpled to the ground before Roach’s hooves.

“Jaskier!” She cried, springing from the saddle. There were other people in the stone-walled room, she noticed – a large man with greying hair and beard, a taller man with dark brown hair, a man who would have looked like Geralt’s twin if it wasn’t for the dark hair and scars running down his face, all of them witchers with golden eyes – but the vast majority of her attention was focused on the bard who hadn’t made a sound since he’d… portalled? Teleported? Used fire to bring them here. Ciri crouched at his side and pressed a hand against the cheek facing up. He was cold. Jaskier was never cold.

After a moment, large, wrinkled hands appeared beside hers. “Move out of the way a moment, child.” The grey-haired witcher murmured. “Let’s get him up the right way.”

Together, they rolled Jaskier onto his back. Under fluttering eyelids, Jaskier’s eyes rolled wildly. The feathers emerging from his arm looked paler, the golds faded. Another tear had appeared up his leg – there were more feathers, but also the hint of pale yellow scales. The witcher cursed under his breath. Even as they watched, Jaskier convulsed, and there was the sound of tearing fabric as feathers peeked out of the bottom of his shirt.

Geralt kneeled at Jaskier’s other side, helped by the scarred man. His wounds looked a lot better, but he still moved gingerly. “Vesemir, what’s wrong with him?” A hand reached out to touch one of the feathers, and the witcher – Vesemir? – slapped it away.

“Don’t touch a phoenix’s feathers, lad.” He looked up at the scarred man, who’d been joined by the other witcher. “Eskel, Lambert, go and get the firewood from outside – we’re going to need a much larger fire if we don’t want the bard to die.”

“Die?!” Ciri burst out. “No, he can’t die! Jaskier promised he wouldn’t leave me – he said that he’d always be there for me!” She reached down for her pendant once more, squeezing it in one fist. “You promised Jaskier! You said it every year – you promised that you’d always come back. You can’t die!”

Vesemir put a gentle hand on her shoulder, glancing down at the pendant with a strange look in his eye. “That’s why I’m getting the fire built up, child. Do you know anything about phoenixes?”

“No, I didn’t even know he was one!” She held out her pendant to the man, ignoring the way Geralt choked beside her. “He gave me this when I was eight – he said that it had a little piece of him in it, so I could call him if he was in trouble. I didn’t know that Jaskier actually had feathers!”

“A phoenix gifting a part of himself is very rare, and a very great honour,” Vesemir murmured. He wrapped her hand tighter around the pendant. “It is a gift many would kill for, child, so keep it safe.”

As the other witchers came back into the room, logs piled high in their arms, Vesemir got to his feet with a groan. “Pack those around the edges of the fireplace, lads,” He instructed, waving them over to the large fireplace on the opposite wall, “Put one layer of logs in the middle and then build up the sides.”

There was a cough to Ciri’s left. “Princess…” Geralt began, “How do you know Jaskier?”

She went to answer – how could she not know Jaskier – when the bard in question convulsed once again, more violently than before. An arm that was more feather than human hit her in the stomach, sending her sliding back a metre or so. Geralt had also been batted away, and the streak of blood on the ground showed that at least one would had reopened. Vesemir turned away from where he was supervising the fire building and cursed. “Eskel, help Geralt and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself worse. Lambert, with me.”

Lambert came over and grasped the bard just under the knees, carefully avoiding contact with the feathers emerging just below his fingers. Vesemir caught Jaskier under his shoulders after wrapping his hands in his coat. When Ciri went to help – Jaskier’s hands were dragging against the ground, he loved his hands more than anything else – she was waved away.

“I need you to pick up his feathers. None of us can touch them without causing more issues,” The greying witcher explained. “The bard trusted you enough to give you one of his feathers – and one of his tears, if I’m seeing things right – so I don’t think he’d mind you touching these ones.” And indeed, there were dozens of feathers scattered across the ground, a trail following the bards path across the room.

Both Vesemir and Lambert had to readjust their grip more than once as Jaskier began to writhe in earnest. Shrill cries came from his throat, reminding Ciri unpleasantly of the hawks her grandmother had – used to have – and the sounds they’d made when hooded. When he was being settled in the fireplace, Jaskier curled into the centre of the log pile with a croon, wrapping both arms – now feather covered – around himself. Vesemir waited till Lambert had moved away before making a strange sign with his hands.

Jaskier, and the wood, burst into flames.

Ciri screamed.

It was like that day in the woods again – she didn’t have control over her own body, the terrifying coldness of her chaos filling her and escaping through her mouth, the pain of her throat almost an afterthought. The four witchers were flung to the far edges of the room. The long table slammed into the opposite wall. The chairs followed, shattering into pieces upon contact. The front doors shuddered.

It was Jaskier who broke Ciri out of her chaoscoldprotect haze.

There was a trill, a croon, a whistle. There was a gentle warmth coming from her pendant. There was a voice echoing at the edges of her mind – I am okay, little one.

Ciri breathed in. Closed her mouth. The front doors stopped shuddering. The witchers fell from their pinned positions against the wall. In the fire, glowing blue eyes met hers. I will heal, little one. Don’t be scared. You’re safe now.

She stumbled closer to the fireplace; hands still full of Jaskier’s feathers. “Are you really going to be alright Jaskier?” She asked quietly. To her shame, tears were running hot down her face, and Jaskier crooned sadly.

Don’t waste your tears on me, little lioness. I am right where I need to be.

“What do you mean?” Her voice came out like more of a whine than a question, and Ciri tried to stifle her sobs. With a thump, Ciri dropped to the ground. “Jaskier, what’s going on?”

Vesemir came and sat at her side. “Your bard is a phoenix,” He began to explain. In the fire, Jaskier’s eyes closed. “I don’t know much about them – they were thought to have all disappeared centuries ago after they were hunted almost to extinction. What little I do know comes from books written by Witcher’s who worked with Greater Phoenixes – like your bard.”

Geralt thumped to the ground on her other side, with Eskel standing at his shoulder with a blanket. “You’re shivering,” he said quietly, and Ciri was surprised to notice that, despite her proximity to the fire, she was still cold.

“Greater Phoenixes?” Geralt murmured after Ciri had gotten herself comfortable.

“Think of them as being similar to Higher Vampires. Most phoenixes are akin to highly intelligent birds – incapable of human speech, but more than mindless beasts. Greater Phoenixes are capable of greater magics, and some believe that they’re the only phoenixes capable of reproducing.” There was a mournful whistle from the fire, and Ciri swallowed thickly. “Apparently, they are also able to take a human form.”

Here, Vesemir paused. “Now, the literature seem to argue about this, but the one thing they all agree on is that phoenixes, greater or lesser, require fire in some form or another in order to stay alive. One Witcher swore that Greater Phoenixes went through what he called a ‘burning day’ every year, renewing their youth for another year. If they didn’t go through this burning day, they would die. Another said that only the Lesser Phoenixes needed a burning day, and the Greater Phoenixes only went through burning days to heal. Either way, Phoenixes are immortal, and almost impossible to kill.”

Geralt made some kind of noise beside her, and Ciri glanced up to see his eyes go wide. “Jaskier’s… immortal?” His voice was thick in a way she hadn’t heard since they’d first met.

Lambert returned then, bearing Roach’s saddlebags, and she felt a pang of guilt. She had forgotten all about the poor horse in their rush to help Jaskier. And speaking of… “Is that why you set him on fire?” She asked quietly, “To heal him?”

“I hoped that it would help,” Vesemir admitted. “The way his feathers looked, the way they were tearing his body… it didn’t look healthy.”

It wasn’t, came the low croon. By the way all the Witchers’ seemed to snap to attention, they could hear it too.

Jaskier’s eyes were open again, and they shifted closer to the edge of the fire. Ciri could see the outline of a large head, trailing off into a long neck, in the way the fire moved. I had overexerted myself, Jaskier admitted slowly. When I heard that Cintra had fallen, but Ciri hadn’t contacted me, I fire-travelled as close to the capital as I dared. You must have already escaped, little one, because I couldn’t sense you. I ended up saving Mousesack and a few others before it became too dangerous for me to remain. From there, I ended up at Sodden Hill with Yennefer and the rest of her sorcerers… The fire seemed to shudder then, like it had been hit by a strong breeze, before calming. Yennefer almost killed herself casting a fire spell to turn back Nilfgaard, and I had to merge with the fire to help her… and regaining my human form was difficult… I had been clearing a path through Cintra for the refugees, hoping to find you with them, when I heard your call little one. Then there was the fire-travel to you, and healing Geralt, and then the travel here…

Vesemir sounded amazed when he said, “It seems the strength of a Greater Phoenix had been underestimated – the power it must have taken to transport not only yourself but others across the Continent…”

It weakened me enough that I could not hold onto my human form, Jaskier crooned, and there were… extenuating circumstances.

“You almost killed yourself… trying to save me?” Ciri huddled deeper into her blanket and smothered the chaos that began to creep cold around her throat. How many people died for her when Cintra fell? How many more will?

A wordless croon then, filling Ciri with warmth and resting around her shoulders like an arm – or a wing. For you, my dearest little lioness, I would burn down the Continent to see you smile, Jaskier trilled. There was a moment of silence, interrupted only by the crackle and pop of wood, before he continued. There is no weapon that can kill a Greater Phoenix, Jaskier murmured. If one were to stab me in the heart, my fire would heal me. Were I to be drowned, the water in my lungs would dissolve into steam. To dismember me would fail, as I would just reform. I can die again, and again, and again, and come back.

But if I was to give up on life… if I was to let my fire die out to ashes… Jaskier crooned mournfully. My parents decided to smother their flames after the rest of my nest-mates were killed by humans for their feathers. One of my closest friends just didn’t reform one day, after a dwarf pulled her apart to see if her bones really were made of crystal, as some legends say. I have seen all of my kin fade away into smoke. I am the last Phoenix on the Continent.

If you were to die, little one, I would have allowed my fire to go out, so that my soul could join yours in the afterlife.

Glowing blue eyes shifted to stare into Geralt’s. If you were to die today, dear heart, I would still live. For Ciri, I would have stayed. But it would have been a constant battle to keep my fire going. Phoenixes, despite our immortality, share their heart with only one other. No matter what you say to me, you still hold my heart, and I will not take it back.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt said hoarsely, shifting closer to the fire until he was almost sitting in it, “You were only trying to help me, as you always do, and as I always did, I threw it back in your face. Why would you still care for me when I don’t deserve it?”

You were also hurting, dear heart. Much to Ciri’s surprise, crystal tears began to drip from Jaskier’s eyes, shattering in the flames. Love isn’t something one deserves, but something you are given without expecting in return.

Ciri couldn’t stand it anymore. With a sob, she threw herself forward. Warm wings wrapped around her, and she was tucked into feathers softer than any blanket. It wasn’t until she heard Geralt, crying out in panic, that she realised what she did.

I just threw myself into the fireplace!

There was a soothing croon from Jaskier, and a curved beak nuzzling through her hair. You are very lucky, little lioness, he murmured, that my fire only burns those I wish to burn, otherwise you would be in a lot of pain.

When she opened her eyes, Ciri could see feathers in various shades of red, liberally dusted with gold. Underneath her cheek, she could feel Jaskier’s heart beating slowly. She had never felt safer. Her eyes began to droop shut as the day’s events caught up to her. There was a shift, the wing at her back rising, until there was another body there. Geralt curved around her, one arm reaching across her body to tangle in Jaskier’s feathers.

Ciri let herself fall into sleep, secure in the knowledge that her precious people were here, and were safe.

#the witcher #fanfiction #ao3 #creature jaskier #phoenix jaskier #jaskier and ciri #written in a very short time #sorry for typos #geralt x jaskier #endgame #hurt/comfort

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