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unabashegirl · 4 years

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“What are you doing up?”

Author’s note: How is this man REAL? I still don’t understand how God could have ever created someone so beautiful...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

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WORD COUNT: 3.8K

italics are flashbacks!

The warm-toned colors of sunrise filtered through the tall, windows leading out to the balcony. The reflection of the sun against the ocean illuminated their quiet bedroom. They had forgotten to shut the blinds and pull down the blackout of the room. Hence, why Y/N’s face was completely exposed to the soft afternoon light. Consequently, waking her up from her slumber.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she processed her surroundings and woke the rest of her body. She covered her mouth as she yawned and stretched out her back and limps. She rolled over, facing upwards as her hands pushed her hair out of the way. She admired the beautiful and probably very expensive chandelier that hung from the ceiling. She hasn't noticed it before, but how could she? The last forty-eight hours had been hectic and all over the place but incredibly dreamy.

She was still flushed when she had arrived home that afternoon. Her hair was still slightly damp even though her work out had ended forty minutes ago. She had stopped for groceries because her boyfriend was coming back from an extensive work trip. Y/N had planned to cook his favorite meal and cozy up on the couch while he reminisced about the trip. Her plan was short-lived when she opened the door of her apartment and found him waiting for her by the entrance.

She immediately dropped the bags by the entrance and threw her body on his. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, not even flinching at the loud sound of her sunglasses hitting the hardwood floor.

”yeh miss me, lovey?” Harry’s big smile splattered on his face, the same smile that she has always praised and adored since the very first day. She squeezed his cheeks while peppering kisses all over his face after a long waited passionate kiss.

”This is ticklish” Y/N referred to the stubble that he had grown since he had felt. ”How do you manage to make everything attractive?” She mumbles as Harry stares down at her with adoration.

”I could ask you the same, love” His own hands running down the sides of her tight workout clothes. ”I’ve missed you so much” He had grown accustomed to sleeping next to her; touring and sleeping in different hotel rooms on his own — had become a challenge. He hated it, but he loved it too. He loved that he had become so attached to her that he missed her presence. He didn't have to touch her. Harry missed the faint smell of her Chanel perfume scattered on the pillows and comforter. He just liked knowing that was beside him and close by. It brought him serenity.

“Me too” On the other hand, she had missed hearing him hum and sing in the shower. She had missed waking up to him in the kitchen, making fresh coffee, in a white towel, barefoot with wet hair. ”Are you hungry?” Y/N asked remembering the whole reason why she hadn't been home earlier. She pulled away to go pick up the bags by the entrance.

”I am” Harry stands back and watches her bent down, taking his time to admire her body and appearance. ”Have you been doing squats or something?” he bluntly asks after noticing her bottom looked rounder than last time. Y/N giggled and shook her head before standing straight back up.

”Nothing gets past you, does it?”

”at least nothing that has to do with you” He took the bags from her before she could take any further steps. ”you didn't answer my question” Harry yelled back from the kitchen while she locked the front door.

”I am. Just wanted it to be nicer” She shrugged as she walked into the kitchen and found him taking the groceries out of the bags. She also had read a few comments on an Instagram profile that posted about celebrity couples. They picked her apart and criticized every single inch of her body. She had felt pretty shitty for a few days, but she would never tell Harry. After all, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be reading comments. Harry had always warned her.

”Trust me. It was already nice,” he added. There he was again, uplifting her and making her feel flawless. It has been two years since they met at an event in Los Angeles through mutual friends and she still didn't get used to cheeky yet sweet comments.

”How was LA?” The night they met, Y/N had just gone for a drink after being pressured by her friend. It was a party at a small intimate bar with a bunch of celebrities. To this day, she still doesn't know what the party was celebrating.

”It was fine. I saw a few of our friends. They asked about you” As a matter of fact, they seemed slightly disappointed that she wasn’t accompanying him. His friends preferred her, but he didn’t care. He also preferred her. Harry was the first to approach the night they first met. After seeing her standing by the bar looking lonely. One of his terrible jokes was enough to break the ice and cause her to smile.

”I guess I'll have to visit more often” She liked traveling with Harry, but the tour was just around the corner. Therefore, she needed to straighten everything out before departing. “I was thinking of making your favorite meal” Harry looked up to her, biting his lips with a slight frown. ”What?”.

”Change of plans. You are going to go upstairs and pack a bag” He ordered her as he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter. Then it was Y/N’s turn to frown.

”A bag? For what? What do I pack? Where are we going? You just got here,” She bombarded him with questions. Harry very mischievously, shrugged then leaned over to grab one of the fresh bananas that she had just bought.

”Can’t tell you, lovey. Just go change and pack” He had it all planned. He had started to come up with it before he left for America. He had to move a lot of pieces around for it to work without drawing any suspicion to his master plan. His trip to LA had given him more time to work on the minor details without being questioned.

”What should I pack?” She was surprised at the abrupt change of plans, but Harry never disappointed. Therefore, she trusted him and would comply.

”Your everyday clothes and bathing suits, maybe a dress” His bag was already packed; his assistant had made sure of it. He usually packed his clothes, but because of the short time frame that they had, they didn't want to take any risks. ”do I have to carry yeh?” Harry asked since she still hadn't moved.

”No!” She giggled as he took a warning step towards her. ”I’ll be right back” Harry smiled after her, while she packed he took the time to make himself something quick to eat since he was starving.

Harry was surprisingly still sleeping. His lips slightly parted as soft snores escaped his mouth now and then. His tattooed arm hung over her waist. His head tucked in the back of her neck, his tattooed chest pressed against her back, radiating heat like an oven. It explained the reason why she only wore underwear to sleep. At some point in their relationship, she had started waking up with a thin layer of sweat covering her body. It was Harry who had suggested her change of sleeping attire after he refused to stop cuddling her.

Y/N gently took his arm off her body making sure she didn’t disrupt his sleep. Along with the tour, press, interviews, and shows came his anxiety and sleep deprivation. He always managed to hide it, but she knew that he struggled. Therefore, the fact that she had woken up before him was a pleasant surprise and that she wasn’t willing to ruin.

She was quick to observe that she could do some minutes under the sun as she stood before the bathroom’s mirror. Y/N twisted her body sideways just to get a better look at her physique. Harry’s fingers mark printed all over her thighs, as well as the scattered hickeys on her chest, were a reminder of their night. She reached back and grabbed a bathrobe off the hook to hide her nakedness.

“Are you excited?” He asked her as he opened the trunk of the rental car that they would use for the entire trip. He still had a few surprises under his sleeve, he was just waiting for the right time to reveal the rest.

On the other hand, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling, her cheeks had started hurting minutes after he had revealed the destination of their spontaneous trip.

“Are you kidding?” She squeaked as she watched his muscles tense up under the shirt that he had opted to wear. Harry chuckled as he strategically placed her suitcase first in the trunk. He had rented out a convertible which he sort of regretted now, due to the lack of space. “What brought this on?”.

“I just thought it would be nice. We haven’t spent as much time as I would’ve liked to” He added a shrug as he took his duffle bag from her and squeezing it in before shutting it close. “My work has gotten in the way of many things” She instantly knew what specific occasion he was referring too. Harry had missed her master’s graduation in child psychology a few weeks ago. Her mom had Facetimed him when her name was called and he had seen her disappointment throughout the rest of the night. He had tried his best to catch a flight to make it in time, but his work commitments had gotten in the way.

“Harry Edward Styles” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned against the side of the car. She gently gripped his jaw, forcing his sight on hers. “Stop beating yourself over it” Sure, she had felt lonely that night without him by her side, but she could never blame him. “I love every single bit of you and everything that comes along. Including your work because that means I get to hear and watch you do what you love the most” The corners of his lips curved upwards, revealing his dimples. She kissed them gently after her eyes drifted down to them.

“I love you the most” Harry whispered with his eyes slightly hooded, enamored by the words that had just come out of her enticing mouth. He gave her a quick yet breathless kiss just in case reporters were watching them.

It was the perfect day in Italy. The sun shone brightly, high in the sky. There were no clouds threatening the day with any signs of rain. The streets were crowded with tourists and locals. At first, Harry resisted the urge to pull the top of the car down since they were still in the center of Rome. The last thing he wanted was to get recognized and mobbed on his Italian vacation with the love of his life. He had made arrangements for his most trusted bodyguard to travel with them. Harry wanted to keep everything as intimate as possible. He had done it before when he had traveled to Jamaica and Japan. Therefore why couldn't he do it again this time around — he wondered.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked as she noticed that the scenery had changed and it seemed more rural. Harry winked at her at night before pushing on the gas. “We aren’t staying in Rome, are we?”.

“Of course not” He kept a smirk on his face as he pulled the top of the car off as soon as they were out of the city.

She couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous and sweet man that she had grown to love unconditionally. His silky, dark brown hair like grass in the wind. She could stare for hours his chiseled face. His prominent and clenched jawline seemed to be sculped by Greek gods. The slight stubble that he had grown on his chin and upper lip gave him a more carefree and relaxed complexion. She left slightly disappointed that his gorgeous eyes were blocked by his classic, Gucci sunglasses.

“Yeh staring again, darlin” His rough voice, didn’t stop her from admiring him. She unbuckled herself from her seat then leaned in and planted a kiss against his tan skin. “I love you” Harry momentarily looked over at her before looking back at the road.

“Goodmorning” Y/N whispered as she opened the door wider for the hotel employer to bring the room service that she had ordered only minutes ago.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N” He smiled at the young woman before rolling in the table, filled with different breakfast foods and drinks. “Is here alright? Or would you like by the balcony?”. He suggested knowing that tourists loved having their first meal of the day with the view.

“The balcony sounds lovely — if it’s not too much to ask” She felt slightly guilty to make him set up outside.

“It would be my pleasure” Y/N quickly walked behind him as he pushed the car pass the entrance hall and living room of their hotel room. He kept his head up making sure not to knock anything or the floor or make a mess. He stopped right by the entrance to the balcony and carefully stared setting up the table. The young man had obviously heard that Harry Styles and his girlfriend were staying on the top floor. He hadn’t played too much attention to it like the rest of his work colleagues. If Harry Styles was in fact staying with them was because he wanted privacy, peace, and quiet— away from the spotlight and the fans. He was not going to mess it up. For this particular reason, he was picked out of the bunch to bring their breakfast when his girlfriend had called. “You are all set up Ms. Y/L/N”.

“Thank you…” Y/N looked down as his name tag then gave him a big smile, “...Luca’

“buon appetito” He smiled back as he started walking his way back to the entrance.

“Luca, what’s the best thing to do around here besides going to the beach?” They had wanted to do something out of the ordinary. The town where they were staying was pretty small which meant they could easily walk the streets and actually get to experience the Italian culture.

“You can visit the gardens,” He said after a few minutes of thinking. “Do you like cooking?” Y/N instantly perked up, nodding with a big smile. “Then you can take a cooking class. I could set it up for you, just give us a call downstairs and I’ll take care of it”.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you Luca” Y/N made sure to tip him before he left her alone in the hotel room. She sat outside, wrapped in the bathrobe, holding a fresh cup of coffee to her lips while staring out into the Almifi coast. Everything looked just as beautiful as last night.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked as he walked to the small balcony that they had in their bedroom. They had arrived four hours ago to their final destination. They had immediately changed into bathing suits and made use of their private pool. They ditched the pool as they started noticing the commence of the sunset. The couple decided to take on the streets of the small town for dinner. Ravello is a small town off the Almafi Coast. It is a hidden treasure with one of the best views of the ocean. It was perfect for their stay.

“Like twenty minutes ago” She wore a short, silky, olive dress with a pair of white sneakers — too lazy to walk on heels through the rocky, inclined streets of Revello. The thin straps of her dress weren’t wide enough to hide the slight tan lines that she had to manage to obtain with only a few hours under the sun. Harry loved seeing tan lines on her delicate skin. He hated it when she refused to get them by untying the back of her bikini. The olive tone of her dress made her skin more tempting.

“I am starving” he pouted as she intertwined their fingers.

“What are you craving?” They had to make a tough choice to make —both being lovers of Italian cuisine.

“Everything” He chuckled as they walked out of their suite. “I am thinking pasta”.

“I don’t know. Pizza sounds so good” Harry groans at the through of an authentic slice of Italian pizza.

“I hope you know that we are sharing tonight. I am having some of your pizza”.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said as they got on the elevator.

“Yeh are such a meanie” Harry pouted once again before the doors close.

“Fuck I am stuffed” Harry exhales as he leans back on his seat. Y/N giggled as she tried to digest all the food that they had just stuffed their faces with. “But it was so worth it” He beams after wiping the corners of his mouth with the napkin. The night had gone according to plan. They had talked for hours as if they didn’t know one another. No one had recognized him except for the waiter who was a bit starstruck, but either way, respected their privacy.

“I think you are going to have to carry me back” She reached down and patted the small tummy that she had developed in the course of dinner. Her dress felt tight against her skin. She was sure that one more bite of food would tear her dress apart. Harry laughed softly at her cute tummy.

“Let’s go for a walk. It might help us” He was tempted to unbutton his high waisted pants. He was first on his feet, then reached out for her.

“That was delicious. Thank you, baby” She kissed him as they made their way down the street towards their hotel. She couldn’t wait to fall asleep by the sound of the waves crashing by the shore. It was all so soothing. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders as they made their way through the town square.

“There is something I would like us to talk about” Harry confessed as they came across the entrance to the public beach. “Should we walk on the beach?” As her mind wondered what he could possibly be wanting to talk about, Harry kneeled down and helped take her sneakers off after his shoes.

The sand was still slightly warm from the day. They walked right by the water, close enough to slightly wet their feet, but far enough not get bite by anything in the darkness. There was always something very eerie of the never-ending darkness of the ocean. It seemed scary yet mysterious.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N blurted out as she stopped walking after a few minutes of complete quietness. She could sense something was bothering him. Harry unwrapped himself away from her and faced her. Momentarily making her scared that he was actually ending things.

“How could you possibly think that?” He frowned, “Do you remember that night in Japan?” It took her a few minutes to finally figure out what particular night he was talking about. He had gone to Japan two months ago to finish off a song. She had stayed in England after getting a ridiculous virus from a coworker.

“Yeah— what about it?” Harry exhaled as he thought of that night.

“You stayed up with me. You had a high fever” He had been stuck in the studio for hours and had decided to Facetime her. He had started to feel the pressure of writing an impeccable album for the fans. Harry felt like he was cracking under pressure. According to him, all the music was starting to sound like shit. He wanted to check on her, but also get distracted.

“Well yeah. You needed me. You weren’t feeling well” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. He smiled widely at her, shaking his head at her obliviousness. “I don’t get it” Y/N giggled pulling at her bottom lip with her head slightly tilted to the side.

“You still don’t see it!” He exhaled, running his hands through his hair. “You were the one sick and you are so selfless that you stayed up with me just because I wasn’t feeling like emotionally well. Even though you were the one with a fever” He sighted trying to gather all his thoughts at once. “Everything with you, it’s so easy. I miss you all the time. I hate leaving you alone and I especially hate that you still haven’t moved in with me. I’ve also never been such a jealous man as I am now. I can’t stand the thought of someone else holding you, looking at you, let alone kissing you,” He looked up at her trying to decipher her emotions. “You never hung up that night after you fell asleep. I stayed with you on the phone. That was the night that I realized that what I have with you, I don’t want it with anyone else” His hand reached back and pulled the small box from his pocket. He kneeled down before she could say or have any sort of reaction to his proposal. “Would you marry me, lovey?”.

“What are you doing up?” Harry’s raspy voice, almost causes her to spill the cup of hot coffee over her white bathrobe. He leaned over her and gave her a minty fresh kiss. “I woke up and you weren’t there” He added after sitting across from her.

“I thought you would like to wake up to some breakfast” Harry smiled as he uncovered his plate of freshly made food. She had of course ordered his favorite.

“What with the Italian sun on you, that makes you so irresistible?” Harry asked as he spreads jelly on his toasts. It was his turn to gawk at her. She hadn’t properly tied her bathtub around. Therefore it was slipping off one of her shoulders, showing him the collarbones that he loved kissing. Her lips were slightly swollen and a few freckles had appeared from the sunbathing session from yesterday.

“Stop” She laughed as she placed her coffee mug on the table. Harry took a few bites off his toast before taking a sip out of his tea with a constant smug smile.

“Last night when you were ridding me, only wearing the ring — it was a sight to behold” He added knowing exactly how to make her blush.

“Harry!” Y/N exclaimed as she covered her flushed face with her hands. Harry erupted into heavy laughter as he stared at the woman that he would soon be marrying with love from across the table.

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HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

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Would You Be My Little Quarantine (one-shot)

Synopsis: As the mandatory quarantine hits, the Reader is stuck in a cabin in Utah with the boys from 5 Seconds of Summer. Turns out another person is stuck in a hotel nearby. Hijinx ensue as does romance.

Pairing: Harry Styles x f!Reader

Genre: fluff pretty much just pure, teeth-rotting fluff.

Warnings: it’s my first time writing for Harry as I was never really part of the fandom, but damn does Watermelon Sugar do things to a person, so please be kind. This is defo not my best work, but I’m slowly getting back into the groove of things, so bare with me :D

Word count: 6061

TikTok had become Y/N’s new obsession. She’d stayed away from it as long as she could, being a true Vine generation child, she felt loyalty to the deceased app. But one night, after a long recording session, she caved. And then stayed giggling on it until the early morning when the birds started to chirp… or until Calum had taken her phone and threatened to throw it in the jacuzzi if she didn’t go to bed.

The girl and the four guys from 5 Seconds of Summer had been renting a cabin in the middle of the Utah woods to help them escape the distractions of the city as they recorded their respective albums, and given how they were good friends, they decided to collaborate on a few songs, and it made sense to just chill together as well.

Which had started off Y/N’s own TikTok series, having ‘borrowed’ the idea from the Irishman living with two girls.

“Alright, gentlemen.” She slid inside her bathroom pulling the focus of her camera on the reflection in the mirror. “I live with four guys, and I have some things to say. Why do you always, and I mean ALWAYS, leave your socks around the house? The dirty ones. You know you could just throw them in the wash… there’s an idea.”

“We do!” Calum yelled

Y/N turned her face to the door and hollered, “Only after I’ve asked you to!”

“Do not!” he countered.

“Do too!” she exited the bathroom and into the hallway only to be met with the man standing there with his hands on his hips. “Then how.” Y/N pointed the camera towards the living area you could see from where the hallways overlooked the room. “Do you explain that?” And when she zoomed in, there, in a small pile laid two brown socks, all crumpled up and almost pushed underneath one of the three couches, as if someone was trying to hide them from sight.

Calum stammered for a bit. “Those are NOT mine.”

Y/N flipped the camera and looked at it like they do in the Office. “Help me,” she mouthed and finished the TikTok, pointing with her hand at him. “Ya disgustin’!”

Just as maturely as she had reacted, so did Calum by crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out, but their little bickering about whose socks they were and whose job was it to put them in the dirty wash (they were Ashton’s, and it was his job), Luke poked Y/N’s side as he came out from his room.

“I know might seem weird, but is there any chance another person could join our quarantine group?”

Y/N’s eyebrows rose. Sure, the house was giant, mostly because whatever production she was a part of on Broadway, after a successful season, she invited all of them there to get away from the bustle of New York and just chill. It was in the middle of the forest, encased by gorgeous mountains and at the side of a lake where they’d go jet skiing and cliff diving.

“I thought people can’t visit one another?”

“They can’t,” Luke confirmed. “That’s the point. The unfortunate soul just got stuck at a hotel not too far from here, and all the flights are cancelled. Two weeks of quarantine without symptoms have been concluded, but, knowing how impossible it’d be to get to London, when you know, as I said, there are no flights, I offered a place to stay.”

“So,” Y/N dramatically rolled her head. “You already offered to stay before asking me?”

“Well, I knew you’d say ‘yes’ because you’re a kind, generous, amazing, smart, talented, compassionate person and wouldn’t leave someone on the streets when you know you could help.”

“Mhm, keep talking.” Y/N squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

“Incredible, best musician I’ve ever met, how you haven’t won all of Tony’s I’ve got no idea. Your acting skills are impeccable and the movie industry is missing out on a once in a lifetime kind of a talent by not castin-“

“Alright stop.” Y/N busted out laughing. “As long as you promise I won’t wake up with an axe in my head, ‘s fine.”

“Promise.”

“Good. Also, could you please get me three bottles of that wine I like?” Y/N hollered before skipping downstairs and to the kitchen where Ashton was brewing the tenth cup of coffee. “I have a deadline in two weeks and have literally no idea where to go with the story.” She referred to the second book of her series she was writing, and now with the lockdown going on, her literary agent was breathing down her neck, and it didn’t help she hadn’t written anything in like a month and didn’t remember half of the already exiting story.

Luke lifted a brow and hissed through his teeth. “That bad?”

“You have no idea,” she sighed and left for the living-room where she could harass the boys for their fries and procrastinate some more.

***

The few hours, while Luke was away, were quite uneventful. All of them sat around on the couch pit, wrote some music, lil bit of lyrics and Y/N almost cried seeing as her characters had decided to live their own life and not obey to her story.

“Why do you have to be such an idiot,” she mumbled under her breath and furrowed her brows as she wrote herself into a new plot hole.

Right as Y/N was about to delete the whole chapter, the door slammed open and she heard grunting. “We’re here!” Luke hollered, and the thought of wine made her giddy, making her leap over the edge of the couch, and rush to the front door only to stop dead in her tracks.

Y/N’s mouth hung open, not because of who the person joining their quarantine group was, but because of what the person was. “A fifth GUY?! You didn’t tell me it’d be a guy!”

“I didn’t think it’d matter!” Luke yelled back.

“There’s already four of you!” She pointed back to the living room hearing loads of ‘hey!’ being shouted back.

“Would you leave him on the streets if you’d known he was a dude?”

“No, of course not!”

“Why are we yelling?”

“I don’t know!”

“I mean, I can leave.” Harry Styles said pointing at the door, not really knowing what to do. He certainly hadn’t expected that sort of greeting. “But I do come bearing gifts.” He lifted a black bag where a clinking of glass could be heard.

“No,” she sighed. “It’s fine... I just… I just miss the company of vaginas.”

He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Vaginas?”

“People I can rant to. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter if you have a vagina, as long as we can have a good rant. Especially about the gross things like having all of your dirty socks thrown around the house.” She threw Luke a look that screamed ‘I know you pushed all of them under your bed, and it’s stinking up the whole place.’

Harry shook his head. “Ya not gonna find me leaving my clothes like that. Besides, ‘s disgusting.”

“No,” Luke whined, “come on, man! You’re supposed to be on our side!”

“It’s two against four,” Harry snickered, throwing his hand around Y/N’s shoulder, who gave Luke a smug grin, and it made her mimic the same expression.

“It’s evening out. Maybe you should actually invite some other people to quarantine with us. Say, Harry, is maybe Niall in need of a place to stay?”

Luke rolled his eyes, and shook his head, going into the kitchen and placing the food bags he’d been holding. “I hate you so much.”

Y/N’s smile just widened.

***

“Yes, I’m still stealing your series Irishman.” Y/N zoomed in on her face. “Because now…” she looked up at the ceiling in a manner ‘someone please save me’, “I’m living with FIVE dudes. Yes, FIVE. We have an addition. And if someone doesn’t come and kill me, I will kill them.”

“We’re not that bad!” Michael hollered form out of frame, to which Y/N yelled back, “Yes the fuck you are! Boys are gross. You do realize you’re allowed to have more than one towel. Like you DON’T have to wipe your face with a towel that’s soaked up your ball juice.”

“It’s economy.”

“It’s disgusting! Also.” Y/N turned the camera to Harry who was climbing up the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand. “Say ‘Hi’ to gremlin number five. He’s stolen all of my nail polish.”

He gave a cute wave with an adorable smile, muttering an unintelligible ‘Hello’ as his mouth was stuffed with a piece of bread and a very muffled ‘You don’t even use them.’

“Yes, but that’s not the point. Anyway,” Y/N pointed the camera at herself. “Tune in for an update whenever, as long as I haven’t strangled anyone, and pray to the heavens you don’t see my face in the papers cause the next time you do, it’ll be my mugshot for a quintuple homicide.”

“Is that a threat Y/L/N?” Harry smirked, as Y/N walked past him and took away his cup of coffee.

“No, it’s a promise.” She threw him a wink, leaving the Brit with his mouth open at the woman’s audacity, as she stopped the recording of the TikTok.

“That was my coffee!”

“Not anymore!”

He shook his head, turning back around and going to the kitchen, seeing Y/N perched on one of the stools, neck stretching over to where Ashton was watching a video on his phone, the black liquid in his cup now a creamy beige. Harry smiled. Maybe quarantine wasn’t going to be so bad.

***

Y/N’s head popped from the side of the door, bringing all of their attention to her. “You guys need to record anything right now?”

Luke shook his head, signifying the band was alright before turning to Harry who mimicked him, the tapping of his pen stopping. “Why?”

“Just got a call from Laurence, he said something’s wrong with the ‘Candy Store’ audio from yesterday. Need to rerecord it and send it over. Something about a faulty export or whatever.”

“ ‘S all yours.” Ashton motioned to the recording booth. “Oh, but can I be Heather Duke?”

“And can I be Heather McNamara then?” Luke piped in.

Y/N chuckled. “Not to burst your bubbles, but you do know you won’t be in the final version?”

“No, but we could be in THIS version. It’d be for our private files. And it’d help you.”

“That sounds so wrong.” She grimaced. “How would that help me?” Y/N plopped next to Harry on the floor. “You’re the biggest distractions I’ve ever met.”

Luke scoffed. “How dare you! We offer you our services of being backup singers, and you… you’re such a meanie. You’re such a Heather Chandler!”

“It’s 2020! If Leslie Odom Jr. can play Aaron Burr, then I can play one of the Heathers! Don’t be sexist, Y/N!”

“I never said a dude can’t play a Heather, don’t put words in my mouth. I just said last time we tried to record anything together we ended up playing SIMS for like seven hours, but… come on you two divas, get your asses inside then. But I swear if Laurence or Kevin call because one of you whispered something dirty in the background of MY parts, I will strangle you in your sleep.”

“How little trust do you have in us?”

“Very,” Y/N deadpanned, showing the two men inside, leaving Calum, Harry and Michael to man the production table. “If you mess with anything, your asses will be grass.” She pointed at the three and all of them put their hands up in surrender. “ ‘S bad enough you ruined my single.”

“It’s called giving it flavour,” Calum said through the microphone.

Y/N just responded by sticking her tongue out.

Michael lifted his fingers, counting down from five to one, giving her the cue to start.

“Are we gonna have a problem?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, already immersed in the character of Heather Chandler. “You’ve got a bone to pick? You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?”

Harry swallowed hard.

“I’d normally slap your face off, and everyone here could watch,” she slightly motioned with her head to the audience behind the screen, a mockingly sweet smile on her lips. “But I’m feeling nice, here’s some advice, listen up biatch.”

When her hips started moving from side to side to the rhythm of the song, Harry swore he’d never found someone being mean (even though it was mock mean) so hot.

“I like,” Y/N raised her voice before dropping it. “Looking hot, buying stuff they cannot.”

There was no sight of the sweet and bubbly girl Harry had met. This was Queen-B of Westerberg High in flesh. He was transfixed.

“I like drinking hard, maxing dad’s credit card.”

She didn’t need anyone’s credit card to pay for her things, given how she was one of the top paid Broadway singers of their generation, and something in Harry skipped a beat at how confident she looked.

“I like skipping gym, scaring her, screwing him,” Y/N rolled the ‘r’ deeply in her throat, and he had to collect himself before his thoughts went to an unsavoury place.

“I like, killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose!” With a smile, Y/N pointed at Luke who only rolled his eyes. “If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls, let yer mammy fix you a snack,” she emphasised the ‘K’ after having mockingly sung the bit before. “Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in ma Porche with the quarterback.”

As weird as it was to have the two boys be her fellow Heathers, Y/N hated to admit it did help her. It reminded her more of what it was like to be on stage before the pandemic had started and the production had to be shut down. And she missed them. All her fellow actors just as much as she missed the rush of getting on stage and losing herself in the role and atmosphere.

��You can join the team –“

“Or you can bitch and moan,” Y/N’s ‘Heathers’ sang in a nasally voice

“You can live the dream.”

“Or you can die alone.”

Harry snuck inside the recording booth, picking up a pair of headphones by the drum set.

“You can fly with eagles,”

“Or if you’d prefer,”

“Keep on testing me,”

“And end up like her!”

And that’s when Harry joined in, reciting the lines of both Veronica and Martha, and when he saw Y/N keeping a palm over her mouth as she tried to keep a mean face while inevitably hiding a smile. The whole of the song, despite how Ashton, Luke and Harry had tried to make Y/N break character (she came close a couple of times), the woman stayed on the line, not missing a beat, and especially enjoying the moment where she looked at Luke, who was about to hit the high note and screaming ‘shut up, Heather!’

Harry couldn’t help the smile splitting apart his face. When Luke had first picked up his call, having known he and the gang were somewhere in the Utah region, he had thought he’d be living with just the guys, and when he found out it was actually Y/N Y/L/N renting the cabin, the girl he’d admired for so long for how brave and utterly unapologetic she was of being herself, Harry had just thought he’d gain a new friend, not have romantic feelings spring up.

And all of it had happened in the span of two days, not even that much. He’d arrived the evening before, had met the woman, and now it was three PM on day two and was already in love.

It was an exhilarating and terrifying feeling all at once. Some studies said it takes men eight seconds to fall in love, which Harry now could pretty much confirm, while it takes women generally fifteen days to fall in love. And he could only hope Y/N might have some feelings for him as well, otherwise, he’d have to scold his heart for falling quickly once again.

***

It was the middle of the night, wind slamming against the windows when Harry got awoken by people talking behind his door. At first, he was ready to fight, thinking immediately that intruders had come into the house, but when he heard a ‘fuck off Michael’ and a ‘you fuck off, you’re gonna ruin this’, he understood everything was fine. And he was just about to lay back down on the soft pillows, but as the saying went – curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so he threw off the covers and lightly went to the door, where a bleary Harry appeared on the stairs making Y/N and Michael whip their heads towards him and freeze on the spot.

“What are you two do-“ but he didn’t get to finish the question as the two co-conspirators shushed him.

“You’re either in,” Y/N whispered harshly, “or out. Choose Styles.”

A beat. “What kind of trouble’re we getting’ into?”

The smile which spread on her face was nothing short of wicked. “Revenge,” Y/N hissed.

“Be quieter than a mouse,” she whispered to him, and now the trio moved downstairs.

“Who are we getting revenge on?” Harry spoke as quietly as he could, as they rounded the corner and exited the cabin through the back door. It was colder than he thought, seeing how the wind wasn’t warm at all, and he was grateful he’d fallen asleep in his favourite rainbow cardigan. How Y/N and Michael didn’t even shiver in their barely-there pyjamas he didn’t understand.

“See, Luke here thought it was a good idea to not heed my warning about not messing with my recording.”

Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up. “He didn’t.” He knew Luke hadn’t, he was there the whole time and listened back to what they’d sung with everyone together.

“No, but he did rename a different file with the same name I had for the 'Heathers'' recording, on MY computer, mind you. And well, let’s just say, it was not what anyone wanted to hear.”

Harry had to swallow, as his mind went to unsavoury places, and as Y/N shimmied open the lock of the window to the studio bathroom part of the house, she looked over her shoulder to see his expression. It would seem, despite him being in ‘Dunkirk’ and having been confirmed to play Eric in the live-action ‘The Little Mermaid’ he wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” she snickered and pulled herself inside the house through the window, Michael handing her a black duffle bag Harry hadn’t first noticed. “It was a conversation I had with my friends while we were all drunk. Some tea, some very personal tea was spilt, and so.” She unzipped the bag slowly and took out a whipped cream can. “I’m going to spill something else.”

Canned cheese was one of the most disgusting things ever created by a human in Y/N’s opinion. So, squeezing nine cans worth of the stuff inside all of Luke’s socks, jean pockets and everywhere else possible was good enough revenge for her.

“Why are we in the studio though?” Harry asked as the trio crept towards the bathroom door and peeked through the open sliver. It was pitch black.

“Because Luke teds to forget his favourite things here,” Michael explained and motioned for them to follow as he checked that the hallway was clear. It was go-time.

Together they all snuck back inside the recording studio, and much like Michael had said – Luke’s favourite jean jacket, a woollen jumper, three pairs of boots and shoes were all scattered around the place. He hadn’t even noticed it while they’d hung out there, but now Harry understood what Y/N was talking about while whining about the boys being messy.

She uncapped the can and squeezed, the artificial smell of cheese wafting through the air, making her almost gag. “That’s for being a bad friend,” she muttered while filling up one shoe. “That’s for making bad jokes.” She filled up another. “And that’s for saying ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ is an overrated song.’

It was hard for Harry to contain the giggles, as he uncapped his own can and started filling up wherever Y/N pointed to. Did he feel bad? Sure. But was it fun to feel like a teenager in a university dorm during a prank war? Abso-fucking-lutely. And it didn’t help that he was desperately falling in love with Y/N with every second they spent together. Like she could’ve asked him to hide Luke’s corpse, and he’d say he’d take the blame for the murder if it came to it.

“Why did we have to sneak around the place like that?” he suddenly asked, brows furrowing in concentration as he squeezed the smelly contents inside the inside pocket of the jacket. “Why couldn’t we have just walked through the house?”

“Because Luke always and I mean always comes to the studio at 3 AM,” Y/N stated.

Harry looked at the clock. It was 2:45 AM already.

“But before that, he goes into the kitchen, makes himself a double espresso, a sandwich and eats it before going into the storage where we keep all of the instruments, which is where he is in right now. Had we snuck through the normal way, he would’ve seen us and stopped this. And that just wouldn’t fly.”

However, it was like Luke had a sixth sense as right at that moment the light flipped on, and like deer in headlights, the trio’s heads shot up and eyes widened.

“What the fuck!” he whispered hand extended in the direction of the already six empty cans on the floor.

Y/N snapped out of the adrenaline induced frozen state and shrugged. “I told you not to mess with the recording.” She put her finger back on the squeezable part. “And you. Didn’t. Listen.”

The cheese squirted out with a splutter, and all of them stood still as the final bits dropped into Luke’s black boot. “And that’s payback.”

With a sway in her hips, Y/N exited the room, leaving the three men to gawk after her.

God was she a hurricane, Harry thought to himself. And he’d never been as happy to be caught right in the eye of it all.

***

The next few days all of them spent lounging around the house, recording a few songs, most of them by Harry seeing as a huge wave of inspiration had hit him, making him write more than one love song. He even asked Y/N somewhat shyly if she could do some of the backing vocals, and he swore the song went from a 3 to a 100 the second he heard her voice weave his lyrics into a symphony.

By that point, they’d been quarantining for a week and a half together, and a heatwave was coming up. The cabin had both an inside and outside pool which they’d all had to learn how to maintain, seeing as no one could come and do it for them, and a jacuzzi tub on the terrace. As much as the boys tried to prove they knew how to keep the places clean, ultimately it was Y/N who saved all of them from chlorine poisoning and algae overgrowth.

So, it was right when she pulled out the pH indicator and said it was good for use when with a scream, Luke rushed forward Y/N, rugby tackling her by the waist and plunged both of them down to the water below.

“You asshole!” She splashed at him, laughing and choking out a bit of water as they resurfaced. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“That’s payback for the cheese.”

She went silent for a second, but then shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve it. But you did deserve the cheese.”

“So,” Luke extended his hand for a shake. “Do we call this even?”

Harry exited the cabin right as both of them completely soaked to the bone jumped out onto the wood floor. He stopped mid-walk if only to control where his eyes went seeing as Y/N’s white shirt clung to her body and well… didn’t leave much for the imagination anymore.

“Do I wanna know what happened here?” He raised a brow.

“Retribution.”

“Though I do gotta say, you have a funny way of getting revenge.” Y/N smirked at Luke, making him squint down at the girl.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she drawled out, a mischievous smile on her lips, “that when I filled your clothes with the cheese, my stuff didn’t get stinky. And yet, from your end… I’m not the only one wet.”

A beat passed.

“God fucking damn it.”

“Hey!” She pointed a finger at him. “We called a truce!”

Luke waved her off. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” but Y/N grabbed Luke’s hand right before he went inside and squeezed it.

“We good?”

He sighed and smiled. “We good, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, gave Harry a quick ‘see ya later’ as well and disappeared through the glass doors.

Harry didn’t know what’d happened to him. He’d always been a helpless romantic, falling in love, and maybe a bit too hard at that, but this time, even without Y/N knowing about his feelings, his heart felt safe.

Sure, the side of her he’d seen was a complete headcase, and she had more energy than a bull with a red flag in front of it, but the utter love exuding from the woman, even while she complained about her four, well five counting him, housemates was palpable in the air. The way she hugged and made sure everyone had whatever they needed, the way she let them know if anyone needed to have a chat, she’d be there to listen, and the small little things of how she always knew what preferences they’d have for their pancakes or breakfast in general, made his heart melt.

“Luke’s a lucky guy.” Harry swallowed before saying that. As much as seeing Y/N be affectionate with everyone, him included, made him feel all fuzzy, a little jealousy monster did bubble up in his stomach when he saw her snuggled next to the lead vocalist of the band. He didn’t have any right to, but no matter how much he tried to repress the green beast, it still lurked somewhere deep in his heart.

“Hm?” Y/N lifted her head where she’d been looking at the water as she squeezed it out of her shirt and up at Harry.

He motioned with his chin to where Luke had disappeared. “He’s a lucky guy to have someone like you.”

“Oh, we’re not together if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I –“ he stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend y-“

But Y/N waved him off. “You’re not the first nor probably the last person to say that. I get it. They asked me one time to surprise their fans at a concert in Connecticut, I think, and when their photographer sent over the pictures, I kinda saw what everyone kept saying, but I’ve never looked at any of them as more than a friend. Best friends, brothers maybe, but nothing more.”

“How’d ya get so close?” Harry enquired, his chest feeling a bit lighter.

Y/N huffed and plopped down to the ground, patting the place beside her which Harry took. “When I first went solo, right after being on ‘Beetlejuice’ I was fucking terrified. Didn’t really know anyone in the music industry like that. Being on Broadway’s different.” She shrugged. “And the award shows are different as well. Like with ‘Tony’s’ or ‘Oliver’ awards it’s you know – musical and theatre geeks. My people. But the first time I went to VMAs I almost shat myself.” She chuckled, and Harry did the same. “Didn’t know anyone at all, was petrified to even find my seat because someone told me I’d have to sit between Lady Gaga and Rihanna, and my heart was not ready for that. Ashton saw me at the edge of the carpet, creeping around the entrance and kinda…” Y/N bit her lip looking for the right words. “I dunno. They kinda took me under their wing, in a sense – if you need a friend in the industry, we’re here, that sort of thing. And ever since then, we’ve been best friends. Luke and I just got the closest because we got stuck in an elevator once for like eight hours once, and well, boredom and thinking you’re gonna die in a four by four-foot box brings people closer.”

Harry almost choked. “Eight hours?”

“Yep.” Y/N popped the ‘p’ and gave him a sarcastic smile. “It was like soooo much fun,” she said sarcastically. “I totally didn’t think the elevator was about to drop from where we were up on like the sixtieth floor, and both of us were gonna get our bones smashed to pieces, and I only had two protein bars, and you know how I get without food,” she stated. He nodded.

“Cranky.”

“Exactly. But.” Y/N chuckled. “We didn’t die. Which’s great, not complaining, and I gained one of my all-time best friends.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t die.” Harry gave her a warm smile and nudged her foot with his. “Wouldn’t have gotten the chance to meet you otherwise.”

She nudged his foot back. “ ‘M glad I didn’t die either. And I gotta say – you’ve made this whole quarantine bearable. Sometimes it’s like fighting with four toddlers, and that’s always a futile battle. Happy to have another wrangler with me. Also an accessory to my crimes.”

He inched his hand towards hers, and when Y/N didn’t pull away instead liked her pinkie with his, a warm feeling rushed through him.

“Happy to be of help.”

***

It was two nights later or full two weeks since the six of them had been together when things took a turn.

Y/N’d always been a light sleeper, especially when her life was mainly placed in New York, but now, living in the middle of nowhere, she’d been able to catch up on some sleep. That was when the sound of her door being opened made Y/N shot up in her bed, sheets clutched at her chest in a panic. “What? What’s wrong? What did Calum set on fire?”

“Nothing.” Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up, but he decided not to ask. There was the morning for that. “This might seem weird, but could I uh could I possibly sleep in your room?”

She blinked a couple of times, because her brain was still processing his words and if they were even English, but once they registered, Y/N nodded, pulling back her blanket and scooting over. “C’mere.”

“Again, I’m sorr-“

Y/N shushed him, as Harry climbed in the bed, placing the duvet underneath his arm and twisting to see her, as she mumbled, “less talk, more sleep.”

He hummed in agreement. His eyes were heavy, in fact, they’d become heavy the instant his head had hit Y/N’s pillow, but it was like his heart, the same poor heart that’d had to deal with the newfound emotions for the whole time he’d been there, the same poor heart that didn’t know better and always gave itself away to the person it deemed to be worthy, no matter if in the end it ended up broken, took over the control of his eyes and mouth, and while slamming against Harry’s ribcage, he whispered his confession.

“I really like you… As more than a friend.”

A second passed. He felt Y/N stir as she turned towards him, brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

“I said…” He let out a shaky exhale. “I like you. I fell for you pretty much the second I entered the house and you threatened to throw me out because I was a guy. And then I fell for you when I saw you let loose in the studio. And then once more when I witnessed what your wrath entails.”

Y/N chuckled. “Cheese.”

“Yeah…” He let out a little laugh. “Cheese.”

A gentle palm went to brush away the hair stuck to Y/N’s face and he swore he could just melt as she leaned into his touch. “And then I fell for you when you said yes to singing my song… when you sang the lyrics, I dedicated to you… and every second I fall for you even more… I just… I thought you should know…”

“Well, I can only hope that you’ll take this as a compliment then, when I say I kinda like you too, Styles,” she mumbled snuggling deeper into her pillow. “Though I didn’t think I was your type.”

“What’s my type then?” he mumbled back, letting his arms wrap around Y/N’s waist when she shuffled closer. Not only was he now fully in heaven because he was covered by the softest duvet in the world, head resting against a literal cloud, but also because his nostrils were invaded by the gentlest of smells, and the body against his was the warmest of comforts.

“Well, not girls like me.”

“You mean talented, beyond funny and absolutely breath-taking?”

“Introverted, house hermits who don’t wash their hair unless they have to go somewhere with a perchance of self-destructive behaviour. Unintentional that is.”

Harry’s eyebrows lifted. “Would’ve never taken you for an introvert.”

“Mmmh,” Y/N sighed, feeling his fingers skim her skin. “That’s because I’ve known those guys for years, and they’re like my brothers. Couldn’t be uncomfortable even if I tried with them. We’ve seen too much of each other. But I’m definitely an introvert. Almost had a panic attack the first time I had to make my own doctor’s appointment.”

“You didn’t seem shy with me.”

“That’s because for some weird reason I… I didn’t feel awkward around you. And I mean, you did bring wine.”

She could feel Harry’s chest rumble as he laughed. “Well, I hope it helped with inspiration.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she huffed, but opened her bleary eyes and were met by Harry’s green already staring back. She couldn’t contain the giggle, and it only grew in power as he chuckled himself, making her bury her head in his chest.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just never thought I’d date someone from 1D.”

“Are we below you or something?” There was no trace of malice and hurt in his voice. He knew Y/N wasn’t like that.

“No, ‘s just my boy band phase was ‘Good Charlotte’, ‘Panic at the D!sco,’ ‘My Chem’ and the sort.”

“So, you weren’t fainting while listening to ‘You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful’?” Harry mumbled in Y/N’s hair, sleep slowly overtaking him.

She shook her head. “Sorry, no. Panties definitely weren’t dropping then.”

“Are they now?”

“According to ‘Watermelon Sugar’ you’re the one pulling all of ‘em off.”

“Damn. Guess it’ll have to be my new challenge.”

Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up as she looked at him before promptly falling asleep. “Making my panties drop?”

“Yep. But this time because of me, not Gerard Way.”

“Bold of you to assume it was just Gerard Way. I’m a slut for all of those wizard dads.”

By the time she slurred out the last sentence both of them had drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

***

“They were right!” Harry shouted jumping up in the bed, startling Y/N awake once more as if something was breaking down on their heads with how urgently he jolted. “It does take women two weeks to fall in love and men 8 seconds.”

A pillow met his face. “Fall back asleep.”

He leaned over her still horizontal form, a smug smile on his face. “Are you gonna make a TikTok about it?”

“Probably ‘bout how I murdered the boyfriend I was with for three hours if he doesn’t let me sleep.”

He didn’t argue. With a smile on his face, Harry drifted off once more. Who knew that getting stuck in a hotel somewhere in Utah would lead him to the love of his life?

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

A/N: So... I know I’ve been gone for quite a while, but that’s because I have a job now (I’m trying to get a different one that actually would involve my degree, because this one is absolutely killing me), so please be understanding with the spare posting. I still love writing fics, and as evident, I’m kina branching out into other fandoms :D

There’s a lot of things going on in my life, so if you wanna follow me you can do that on Instagram @dinnusa or @read_with_dee or on my blog dinnusa.wordpress.com :) I also have a TikTok @dinmasters

P.S. feedback is always appreciated :)

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glassessence · 3 years

Text

PGR - OC

I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias!

Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA

Name Lydias: Umbral

Type Offensive Support-type Construct

Service time 1 year

Psychological age 24

Activation date 15 March

Height 167 cm

Weight 59 kg

Vital fluid type O

Faction Purifying Force

Rank A

Weapon Chakrams (preferred) / Gun

Damage type 70% Dark, 30% Physical

Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.

Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.

Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.

She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.

Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”

B A C K G R O U N D

Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.

Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time

Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war

Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others

Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement

Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions

Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right

Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity

Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past

Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart

Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her

S E C R E T S

Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak

Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s

Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost

Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him

Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands

Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth

Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart

V O I C E L I N E S

“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”

“I’m not suited for protecting people.”

“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”

“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”

“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”

“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”

“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”

“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”

INTERLUDE

D U S K F A L L

A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”

Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”

Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”

Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn��t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”

Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”

Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”

“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”

“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”

“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.

The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”

-----------

Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute.

“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”

Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.

Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on.

Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”

Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”

“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer.

Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.

-----------

“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”

On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow.

“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”

“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”

Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.”

“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”

In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves.

Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.”

“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed.

-----------

She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible.

Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”

He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”

She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”

Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”

-----------

Three weeks later

“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”

Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”

“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”

Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”

“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”

She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”

“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”

“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER

F A D I N G L I G H T

Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log

*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?

-----------

Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log

Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*

DATA CORRUPTED.

#pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr oc

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awkwxrdapple · 3 years

Text

Sometimes - Javier Peña x Reader

“Sometimes, just sometimes, well alright maybe all of the time.” - Sometimes by Gerry Cinnamon (x)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of injury

A/N: What you have to know is that I am a sucker for “there was only one bed” style tropes. It’s just fluff and sleep related angst. With no back story, it just is what it is. This came to me while I was in the middle of my chem midterm so enjoy :) I’ve set it up for a second part I think, so we will see how it goes haha.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you ok?”

Javi exhaled smoke slowly. You weren’t expecting an honest answer, or any answer at all. You just had to ask. Watching him sit, slumped, on your sofa was worrying. The man looked exhausted. You were used to having him lounge lazily on your couch whenever he came round, but this time it was different. Before, he still had an air of confidence around him, whereas now he looked like he was ready to drop any minute.

After a few seconds of no reply you changed your question.

“Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

The short, blunt answer startled you as you were still expecting to get nothing back from him. You were happy he was with you now, that he had come to your apartment. Something was clearly bothering him, and maybe a stranger wouldn’t have been able to tell, but luckily for Javi, you weren’t a stranger. Far from it.

“Do you try to sleep?” It was a stupid question, but one you needed to ask. You knew his habits, he could spend all night out in a bar or a brothel to avoid sleep if he wanted to. The latter being one that brought a nasty taste to your mouth.

“Not any more.” As you had expected.

“Javi, you need to try.” Your voice was soft.

“I have tried.”

“Try again then.”

The lights of the buildings of Bogotá were bright against the inky blackness of the night sky. Your curtains were still open showing the proof that it was late. You had been sitting in each other's company for a while.

Javi saw you looking up at the window, and instantly felt guilt at keeping you up too. Just because he wasn’t planning on sleeping tonight, doesn’t mean that he has to stop you too.

“I should go Y/N.”

Bringing your attention back to Javi, he seemed to look even worse than he did a few minutes ago. There was no way you were going to let him out of your apartment to go and do God knows what until tomorrow morning when he would start the self-destructive cycle all over again.

“No, I want you to stay. Please.”

“Why? You need to go to sleep and I’m keeping you up.” Javi removed himself from your sofa and took steps towards your door.

“Javi, look at me.” He did stop and brought his gaze to yours. “Would you sleep if you stayed here?”

Your question threw him slightly. It was something he had never considered as to him, that would be a huge imposition on you. But now you were the one to mention it, maybe it would work. He had nothing to lose in the sleep department. He either would, or he wouldn’t. Yet, he also had a lot else to lose. Staying here, in your apartment, knowing you were lying peacefully only a room away, had so many domestic connotations. That was a reason he had never considered staying at yours ever, because could he put himself through that? The magnetic pull he felt around you would be ever harder to resist if he said yes.

As soon as he let himself slip just once, it would be harder the next time. And then all his worries of keeping you safe and out of his complicated, dangerous life would manifest into reality.

“You can sleep in my room and I will have the sofa. I really don’t mind.”

Your eyes were pleading him to stay.

“Thank you. But I can’t. But thank you.”

Trying not to look at you again, Javi left your apartment before you could try any harder to convince him to stay.

+ + +

The next time Javi knocked on your apartment door, it was much later in the evening. You had even been lying in bed for the past half an hour reading. The knocking on your door had startled you considering the hour.

“Javi, what-”

“Can I take you up on your offer?” He was leaning against the door frame in a way to hold himself up. His body language screamed of fatigue. You wondered how his day had gone. Had he been on a stakeout? Had it been dangerous?

“What offer?” You were confused for a moment.

“Sleep… here.” It almost pained him to admit he wanted the comfort and safety of your apartment.

Your eyes widened when you finally realised what “offer” he was referring to and opened your door further to let him in.

“I don’t want to bother you at all.” Javi started, wandering over to your couch. “You won’t even know I’m here, apart from the fact I’ll be on your couch.” He let himself fall heavily down onto the cushions.

“Javi it’s fine don’t worry. You can have my bed if you want and I’ll sleep out here.” You walked to the linen cupboard to reach down a spare pillow and blanket.

Even before he entered your apartment he knew you would say this, and he had planned what he would say in return. There was no way he was going to have you give up your own bed. He was the one imposing on you.

He hadn’t even consciously realised he was at your door until you had opened it to reveal you wearing pyjama shorts and a tank top. You found it hard to sleep sometimes in the Colombian heat. The amount of skin on show surprised Javi, making him even more aware of your presence. The thrill of the idea of running his hands over every part of your exposed skin was intoxicating. If he wasn’t so utterly exhausted he may have done. Soft. That’s the first word that came to mind upon seeing you in cozy clothing.

“No, I’m fine here, honestly.” At least Javi had the strength to fight you on this.

You considered him for a moment, weighing up your points for a good counter argument, but he had already made himself comfortable. Instead, you just handed him the pillow and blanket.

“Thank you, hermosa.” Javi drawled lazily shoving the pillow underneath his dark hair.

The nickname didn’t go unnoticed. Your Spanish was good enough to know what he had called you. You wanted to revel in it, allow yourself a small bit of joy that he used that word to address you. Until you remembered that you probably weren’t the first, or last, girl to be called that by Javier Peña.

“Goodnight Javi.” You saw he had already closed his eyes. And for the first time in weeks you could finally describe him as peaceful. You were going to ask him about his day at work, to try and work out what had finally made him come to you, but by doing so now you would only disturb his peace.

+ + +

You woke suddenly, and surprised yourself by the blackness of your room. It still wasn’t morning yet. Your phone read 4:32.

Remembering Javi was in your apartment, you had the urge to see if he was actually asleep. Was being here actually giving him any respite against his insomnia?

Trying not to make any noise, you crept to your bedroom door and opened it as quietly as possible. From here you could see his figure lying still on the sofa. A thin sliver of light from in between the drawn curtains shed a small amount of light into the main room. You could tell from the slow and rhythmic rise and fall of his chest that he was in fact, asleep.

Smiling to yourself you closed the door again and retreated back into the darkness.

+ + +

Javi sleeping on your couch sometimes became routine very quickly.

You had got used to leaving the pillow and blanket there every evening, as more often than not he would turn up to use it. You liked it, it was nice knowing where he was, and even nicer to know that when he needed someone, he came to you.

When you offered him your spare key he was incredibly reluctant to take it. You wanted him to have it so he could come and go as he pleased at night. You knew staying at his own apartment wasn’t working for him, so you wanted to give him freedom in another safe space.

Eventually, he did accept the key, and sometimes he did use it. Whether that be to leave and come back at night for something, or to let himself in if you had gone out for the evening. You would come back to find him passed out in your living room, the curtains still open giving the tranquil scene an urban backdrop. You would creep around him and close them silently, before retiring to your own bed.

Amazingly, you found your sleep had improved too. Although some nights you were more aware of the man in your apartment with you. Knowing he was in the other room was soothing, but at the same time maddening. The fact that you were too good friends meant you could never offer your own bed to him, with you still in it. No matter how much you wanted to. So you just were content with knowing that you were helping a friend. Javi had started to look better even from the first night he had spent at yours, something that only got better with time.

One night was very different though.

You had just finished eating dinner at the little breakfast bar in your kitchen when Javi practically stumbled into your apartment. At first you thought he was drunk, but then it became apparent that something else ailed him. There was a horrible purple bruise on the side of his face.

“Javi!” As soon as you saw him you ran towards him and helped him to sit down.

“I’m fine, it’s fine.”

“Well it’s obviously not.”

You cautiously brought the tips of your fingers to the afflicted skin. He winced as you touched it - just as you thought. It wasn’t fine.

“What happened?” Your voice was almost a whisper. You knew what he did for a job, you knew it was dangerous, but only now were you seeing that with your own eyes. In all the time you’d known Javi, you had seen him get into a few scrapes but nothing as bad as this. The bruise covered from next to his right eye all the way down his cheek.

“One of Escobar’s sicarios had a gun, which ran out of ammo, so he used it in another way.”

You were still inspecting the damage. There was no obvious swelling so icing it wouldn’t do anything now. Rest is what he needed.

“Please tell me you managed to get a few punches in too.”

“Unluckily for him, my gun was working perfectly.”

“Ah…” You wondered how the other guy managed to get so close.

Javi turned to look you dead in the eye. Your face was already so close to his and the close proximity almost winded you. You had always been fascinated by his dark brown eyes. You hadn’t known anyone to have eyes as dark but still so lovely to look at, because they were so warm, and comforting. Yet, there was something else that was there too. Something that may be considered wary or even haunted. What had Javi witnessed as part of his job?

Neither of you had said anything for a few moments, however neither of you had made a move to shift away from each other.

“Has work been a lot like this recently?” He could still hear your whisper even though you could barely hear yourself.

“Yeah it’s been… difficult lately.”

“You are so brave and strong though Javi.” He winced at your words. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

“I don’t, not from you. You’re just wrong.”

“No I’m not. You are, even if you don’t believe it.” You allowed your words to be flooded with determination. You hated that he thought this way about himself.

Javi leant forwards and instinctively put his head in his hands. He winced again at the contact. The affection you felt for him in that moment was overwhelming.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not really, I feel more dizzy than anything.”

“You need to go to the hospital.”

“No I don’t. Cause for one, this was an unauthorised stakeout.”

“Javi.”

“Y/N please, just let me rest.”

Putting everything else aside and prioritising Javi’s well-being you found yourself saying, “Come and lie down on my bed.” The couch was no place for someone injured.

You briefly saw a flash of worry cross his face. Was the thought of lying on your bed so bad?

You helped him up and he leant on you on the way into your bedroom. He kicked off his shoes at the door and you allowed him to lie on his back.

“You know you shouldn’t be left alone.”

“I know, that’s why I came here, because I know you would watch out for me.”

You were now lying on your side next to him, and upon hearing that you felt a blush creep into your cheeks. You would always watch out for him. You were glad he knew that.

“You should rest.” You moved to get up but a strong arm caught your arm.

“Stay please.”

“I was only going to get the blanket to sleep on the floor in here.”

“No I mean, stay here. Please.” His hand was still wrapped around your forearm.

“Ok.” You agreed, and settled back onto the bed, bringing the sheets up over the both of you.

“Goodnight Javi.” You said softly, for what felt like the millionth time recently. That in itself was soothing.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

Every cell in your body was on fire as you could feel his body heat radiating through your bed. You wanted to reach out and have some physical contact with him. Nevertheless, you knew he needed rest, and you were only friends, so there were boundaries. You rolled over to give him space and willed yourself to sleep.

+ + +

The first thing you thought when you woke up was how warm you were. Not an uncomfortable heat, just nice warmth.

Javi’s arm was around you.

Sometime through the night he had moved so his chest was up against your back. The muscles of his arm were strong and solid. You wondered if he had moved consciously, or unconsciously. You couldn’t decide which was better. He was definitely still asleep though, as the rhythm of his breathing was even and shallow.

You, consciously, snuggled back into his embrace, and could feel yourself dozing off again until you were startled by movements from him. Javi’s arm tightened around you even more and he moved so his face was nestled into your neck, you could feel his nose lightly touching your skin.

You couldn’t help but grin. You thought about all the times he had slept in your apartment but not in your room with you - it was a waste. You’d both been missing out on this. Maybe in Colombia this was the closest feeling to home you both of you would get.

Masterlist

#this is actually the first time ive written for any of the pedro boys #just fancied writing this one #to see how i could do and whether i want to do anymore in the future #javier pena #narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #storyofavengers

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luxury-leeches · 4 years

Text

Vampiric admirer

“Hi! Could I ask for a headcanon or image where there is a vampire rocker (like a bad boy) with a s/o who is a cute, shy, half gothic and with girl [(who doesn’t like being close to him because of his negative energy but he tries at any cost to approach her?) Like a sofy yandere]? Thank you so much for your attention and have a great day/ afternoon/ light - strange nameless”

I tried my best, so hopefully it’s fine! I don’t know much about witchcraft or paganism so if I did something wrong please let me know for future reference! If you want me to change anything or make a part two please let me know, strange nameless!

Word Count: 1,671

You loved this cafe, you’ve been going here ever since you were small. Your parents were part of a coven and they met here every Thursday for lunch. But that was years ago, your parents have moved with the coven and thus, you couldn’t part. The cafe baristas knew your name, a tiefling named Axel, a gnoll named Sebastion, and an Orc named Jackson. The cafe was owned by a wonderful couple that once used to be apart of your previous coven and even had a small store within that held all an aspiring witch could want. It did quite well, what with all the foot traffic the city provided but you still went every day.

But, that was until he showed up. A few months ago a new band had shown up, made up of monster all alike, you didn’t really pay them any mind since they played hard rock and beyond what most people thought, you mainly listened to lofi playlists, indie rock, pop, and alt music but even you could admit, they weren’t bad. But that’s not what made you stop going to the cafe, oh no. It was a vampire named Matthew but he insisted people call him Eri.

Now you first met Eri when his band had shown up at the gothic cafe, and started making a ruckus. You didn’t pay them any mind until Axel said something. “Could they be any louder?” they chuckled as they took a sip from their latte, his long hair swinging ever so slightly as they leaned over the counter in front of you, a smirk brought upon their lips as their eyes looked beyond your frame. You set your book down in front of you as you looked over your shoulder at the group that was hooting and hollering in the cafe, annoying people around them obviously.

There were 5 of them, a naga, an oni, a mothman, an elf, and a vampire. The naga was a piebald from what you could tell, he was also a type of python but you couldn’t say, his skin decent darkness but the lightness of an everyday latte, their tail different shades of greys and the lightest of pink even an artist couldn’t imagine, had a sleeve of tattoos on both arms made up of different combined designs, hair longer than their human torso and white as snow, with two piercing green eyes to match. The oni was beautiful with skin a soft bluish-purple, piercing pink eyes all three of them, arms muscular with a few what looked like tribal tattoos colored black, hair fuffed out and jutting in all different directions with a few strands dyed blue, and his teeth jutting outwards that looked like they could poke an eye out of he wasn’t careful. The elf was just as beautiful if not more than the oni, their skin was an opalescent white, hair in a messy bun that was a wonderful lavender, long ears pierced to with all types of styles with mainly large gauges, sapphire blue eyes, and fingers with small delicate looking rings. The mothman was giant, brooding shoulders, fur, and wings a dark blue, fluffy antenna sitting atop their head, and bright unsaturated red littered throughout his fur and the tip of their wings, with black eyes the darkest of coal. The vampire? Now he was interesting

There was something about him, maybe his perfectly tanned skin? Was it his unusual green eyes for a vampire? His large canines that only barely jutted out of his lips? Was it the piercing that littered his eyes and some of the skin? Maybe his shaved sides and short fluffy red mohawk? The black ripped sleeved vest that was littered in patches that barely covered his decently muscular arms? Or maybe it was his negative energy he secreted like sap from a tree.

You hummed slightly as you turned back towards Axel who held a devilish glint in his eyes. “Whatcha think of them?” He hummed out as he pulled his apron up and tied it around himself. “Annoying.” You mumbled as you took a sip of your lavender and chamomile tea from your cup. “I think I’m gonna go home,” You said as jumped out of your bar stool, your knee-length black skater skirt switching slightly with the movement. You grabbed your dull gray cardigan from the back of the chair and pulled it on, pulling your satchel on but not before you put your book back within. You didn’t notice the vampire boy approaching you until you went to reach for your drink, only for it to be grabbed by a dull nailed hand. “What kind of drink is this?” He said begrudgingly as he sniffed it then took a swig only to spit it out. You already hated him, his negative energy, his loudness, and he’s gone and ruined your tea!

You glared at him slightly as you took a few steps back and went towards the cash register to order another tea. “H-hey! Why’d you walk away from me, I was only joking around!” he said nervously chuckling as he walked after you and stood beside you, hands on his hips as he looked down at you with a smile. You simply ignored him bringing your arms close to you, gripping your satchel close, and whispered your order into Jackson's ear your shyness taking over. You waited awkwardly for your drink and as soon as it was ready, you sprinted out of there never to be seen for months.

Any time you went out he was there, whether he was with his bandmates or not, you always seemed to run into each other uncomfortably. He was relentless with trying to get you to talk to him, his negative energy shrouding him and strangling you slowly anytime he stood near you for over five minutes. You being a meek little thing could hardly spit a few words out near him, not like you wanted to, but sometimes he caught you while you were talking to a friend or ordering something.

But one day, while it was storming, there was a knock at your door. You peaked out of the closed curtains behind the couch you sat upon, but it was too dark to see who was out there. Thinking it may have been a friend of yours, you got up from your couch and opened the door. There before you was a shivering Eri, hair wet, and a shaking smile on his face. “Hey, lil bit!” He said, but you closed the door on him spooked. “Wait Wait! I just want to talk!” He yelled out as he banged again your door some more. After about five minutes of consistent knocking, you finally gave in.

You didn’t say anything as you stepped to the side and opened the door towards him. He stood there a shocked expression for a second before he ran inside, while you were just about to change your mind as well. Closing the door you turned to him. “Why are you here?” you mumbled as you walked past him to grab a towel from the hallway closet. “What? I can’t say hi to my favorite lil human?” You held the towel back out to him, with him accepting it with a smirk on his lips. You peered at him with a face that said ‘Are you serious?’ causing him to chuckle slightly. “Okay okay, just don’t gimme that look sugar.” He threw the now damp towel on the floor as he walked closer to your form. With every step forward, you took two back slowly backing yourself against a wall.

“I just wanna talk.” He said again as he stood in front of you, his figure towering over you, with his hands planted against your hips. “You’re a tough lil thing to find, sugar! You had me running all over this huge city just to find your lil self, ain’t that right?” You nodded slightly as wiggle around slightly, both out of embarrassment and of nervousness. “Wh-what about it?” you asked as you peered any place but his face. You gasped slightly as his breath hit your neck. “My my my, you smell absolutely divine, sugar.” You whimpered slightly as he rubbed his nose against the crevice between your shoulder and your neck, your hands gripping his damp shirt.

“I just wanna know why you’ve been avoiding me, sugar. Every time I try to talk to ya, get to know ya, ya leave me high and dry! Why is that, lil bit?” You shook like a leaf in the autumn breeze as he scrapped his canines against your neck, humming slightly. “Y-you scare me,” you barely squeaked out as he picked you up and carried you back to the couch, setting you down and sitting right beside you. “I scare you? How do I scare, lil bit?” He chuckled at your scared expression. “I-I’m not...sure but-but you scare me.” He groaned in distaste as he leaned against the back of the couch, his back popping loudly in return. “Well, I’m sorry I scare you, sugar. I’m just trying to get to know ya, I swear.”

“Well, you kept following me around like like a stalker!” You said scooting away from him causing him to peer at you with his hands behind his head. “Well, tell me how to make it up to you, sugar. I could take you back to the cafe, you haven’t been back there for a while, yeah? Your friends miss you, they keep blaming me for your disappearance and it’s kind of annoying honestly.” You sat there for a while, trying to figure out all outcomes. You signed softly and you peered up at him through your eyelashes while your hands fiddled with your fingers nervously. “If it’ll get you to leave me alone...”

He smirked as he stood up and walked towards your door and opening it, looking over his shoulder at you. “It’s a date, lil bit.” And with that, he walked out.

I have no idea where I was going with this so please forgive me! Requests are open!!!

#vampire #exophilia #monster boyfriend #vampire x reader #vampire boyfriend #male monster x female reader #male vampire x female reader #male vampire #male monster #female reader #monster x reader #monster x you #monster x girl #monster x human

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crystalstar8 · 3 years

Text

Knights of the Night (ch 9)

Chapter 9

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,620

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j @daechwitad-2 @zobadak

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

The warm weather was fleeting; Catalina spent her days studying, working, and every chance she got, hanging out with her friends. The “baseball encounter”, as she’s been calling it, has been living in the back of her mind ever since, even though it seemed her friends had forgotten about it. She never brought it up, just focusing on her college life. Namjoon took her out to fancy bookstores and coffee shops, Jungkook tried and failed to teach her how to skateboard, and Jin tried and failed to help them in French. She was kept busy and she was having fun.

All was peaceful, until a college student was reported missing in St. Briggs. Jimin cornered Catalina in dance class about it one chilly, early winter day.

They were practicing their dance to “Body”, by Megan Thee Stallion.

“One, two, three, turn, five, six, step and hit,” the teacher called out. “One, two, ba, ba, jump, Steve! What song are you dancing to, ‘cause it’s not this! Find the goddamn beat! Alright, everyone except Steve, take five.”

Catalina’s final move in the dance was on the ground, so instead of getting up, she crawled over to her dance bag and pulled out her water bottle, collapsing against the wall. Jimin joined her and said, “Have you heard the news?”

Catalina shook her head between sips.

“A student went missing,” he said. “In St. Briggs. From our college.”

“Aren’t they the second person to go missing here?” Catalina asked. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, me neither,” said Jimin. “The first person was a little kid. My parents are freaking out about me walking to campus now.”

“And the police have no idea who the guy is?” asked Catalina. “I mean, they don’t know anything?”

“Not really,” said Jimin. “It’s like these people disappeared without a trace.”

“Hm,” Catalina thought about the disappearances and the mysterious “baseball encounter”. She wondered if they were connected. “You wanna do some investigating?”

“What are you-no, we’re not visiting those vampires,” said Jimin. “That’s a really bad idea. Namjoon told us to stay out of it and he definitely knows more about this stuff than we do.”

Catalina knew she wouldn’t get anywhere with Jimin. She would just have to wait until she saw Jungkook to bring it up again. She knew he’d have no qualms about going on a potentially life-threatening mission.

Her chance came that weekend when she and Jungkook worked their shift together at the souvenir shop. Business was starting to pick up since the first snow was expected to arrive any day now.

Tourists started stopping by more and more and Catalina got to see what Jungkook meant by “hot tourists”. The men and the women were beautiful, and her and Jungkook both had fun checking them out from behind the counter. But today was slow, so Catalina figured she’d take the opportunity to tell him about her plan.

“Jungkook, what do you think about stealing that business card and sneaking around a potential lair?” asked Catalina.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but yes. I’m in,” he said. The two of them were straightening the ceramic bear and eagle figurines, killing time between customers.

“Remember those three vampires on baseball day?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The guy gave Namjoon a business card,” said Catalina.

“Oh right! Yeah, I remember,” said Jungkook.

“I was thinking maybe we could steal it and do our own investigating. I mean, what if those guys have something to do with the missing people?” Catalina said. Jungkook looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Oh shit! Ya know, you’re probably right!” he said. “They just moved here, and then all of a sudden, a kid goes missing in this town. It makes sense.”

“Exactly,” said Catalina.

“But how will we get the business card?” asked Jungkook. “Do we sneak into his room or his office or whatever?”

“That’s what I was thinking. One of us distracts him, while the other sneaks in and finds it,” said Catalina.

“I feel like you should distract him. A classic honey pot mission,” said Jungkook.

“Do you know what that means?” Catalina asked, snickering.

“Don’t you seduce someone to complete a mission?” asked Jungkook.

“You usually have to fuck someone in a honey pot mission,” said Catalina.

“Oh, well, how bad can it be? I mean, he’s hot as fuck,” he said with a wave of his hand. Catalina’s face turned bright red.

“I’m not- we’re…” she sighed. “Jungkook, casual sex isn’t really my thing and I don’t like him that way. I don’t think he likes me that way either.”

“Are you kidding? What about all those bookstores and coffee shops? Those weren’t dates?” asked Jungkook. “What were you guys doing?”

“Looking at books!” said Catalina. “He just really likes literature, and I really like coffee.”

“Did he pay for your coffee every time?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s a date,” said Jungkook.

“We spot each other all the time. So, are you telling me it’s a date when you pay for my McDonalds or when I pay for your movie ticket?” asked Catalina.

“That’s different,” said Jungkook. Catalina threw her hands up.

“Okay, we’re getting off topic,” she said. “You distract him, I’ll get the card.”

“Casual sex also isn’t my thing though,” said Jungkook.

Catalina threw her head back laughing. “You don’t have to fuck him! Just keep him downstairs talking or something.”

“I can do that. Are we doing it tonight?” asked Jungkook.

“Sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, Catalina and Jungkook went to the mansion. Jungkook brought his French homework. Luckily, Namjoon was the one to answer the door.

“Oh, hey guys! Come on in,” he said. He led them to the lounge and Jungkook immediately got his homework out.

“I was wondering if you could help me with this,” said Jungkook.

“Sure, let’s see,” said Namjoon. Catalina wandered off. The upstairs was thankfully not as big as the main floor, but there were many halls and many rooms. Catalina went to Hoseok’s room, starting her search from there. The next door in the hallway was open. Catalina looked inside, flicking on the light switch. It looked like a basic, model bedroom. It didn’t look like it belonged to anyone, probably a guest room. The next room was enormous and absolutely trashed. The giant bed in the middle of the room had a mountain of blankets and clothes on it. Clothes, loose papers, and books littered the floor. Beat up, crooked antique paintings decorated the walls, along with torn calligraphy banners. The Asian style furniture looked ancient, worn and battered, but luxuriously wealthy.

Catalina moved on to the next room. This one was a bit more modern and, curiously, vaguely nautical themed. A huge window against the back wall let light shine in on the white painted wood of the furniture, the mess of easels and canvases in the corner, and the mix of paintings on the seashell wallpapered walls: realism, abstract, cubism, a few charcoal sketches of Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon, and a single painting of a lighthouse looking out at a stormy sea. Catalina went to the next room.

This one was the most modern, with dark walls and mahogany furniture. It was sleek and rustic, with a twisted wood bed frame, alpaca rugs on the ground, smooth couches in the corner with a driftwood coffee table in the center, and along every free wall, bookshelves. The entire room was spotless. This must be Namjoon’s room. At least, Catalina hoped it was. She stepped inside and went to the desk tucked into one of the bookshelves. She rifled through the drawers until she found one filled with business cards.

“Shit,” she whispered. There were quite a few cards, but she got to work sorting through them. Most of them looked old and yellowed with age. She automatically set those ones aside. She couldn’t remember that vampire’s name, but she knew she’d remember it if she saw it. After sorting through what felt like hundreds of cards, she finally found one with the familiar name on it.

It was a new card, simple, with just a name, an address, and a phone number on it. The name on it was Makai La’ei. That sounded right. Catalina rearranged the rest of the cards back to how she found them and shoved this one in her pocket. She was definitely running out of time, Jungkook only had so much homework.

When she got downstairs, she went right to the lounge, but it was empty. Jungkook’s French textbook was laying open on the coffee table. Her heart skipped a beat. Namjoon wouldn’t hurt him, would he? She thought. She backed out of the lounge and looked up and down the hallway. Her heart was pounding, but before her thoughts could fully run away on her, she heard Jungkook’s voice approaching, saying, “And that’s how I went to senior prom with Dr. Dre’s daughter, Truly.”

Namjoon and Jungkook rounded the corner, both holding McDonalds bags and hot coffees in their hands.

“You guys went out?” Catalina asked.

“Yeah, we got hash browns,” said Namjoon, handing one of the bags to her.

“Isn’t this yours?” asked Catalina.

“Grease gives me a stomachache,” he said.

“I was just craving hash browns. I figured you’d want a few too,” said Jungkook. Catalina’s heart skipped a beat, but this time not out of fear.

“I love these,” she whispered, opening the greasy paper bag to see three hash browns inside. Something nudged her hand. She looked up to see Jungkook handing her his coffee as well. Namjoon wandered off, sipping at his own coffee. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t like coffee,” he said. “Take it.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Did you already finish your homework?”

“Yeah, turns out Namjoon is fluent in French,” said Jungkook. “And Korean, and Chinese, and Japanese, and German. And…what was that other one?”

“Swahili,” Namjoon said from inside the lounge.

“Why?” asked Catalina.

“I was bored,” he said with a shrug. Jungkook looked at Catalina with questioning eyes. Catalina nodded.

“Well, thank you for helping me with this,” said Jungkook, gathering his textbook and notes. “I hate this class, so any help is much appreciated. Anyway, we have to get going. We have some errands to run.”

“Sure, no problem,” said Namjoon as he walked them to the door. “We’re all fluent in French here, expect for Hoseok, so feel free to ask any of us any time.”

“Thank you,” Catalina said as she pulled her shoes on.

~~~~~~~~~~

“That was too easy,” said Jungkook as they were getting into his car.

“Not really!” said Catalina. “He had a whole drawer full of business cards. I had to sort through all of them.”

“I was talking about the homework,” said Jungkook. He pulled out of the driveway and began the drive down the mountain. “He gave me all the answers. But that explains why you were gone for so long.”

“Yeah, and I saw the other rooms,” said Catalina. “I think Tae’s room is nautical themed.”

“Why?” Jungkook asked. Catalina shrugged. “Well, whatever. Does that card have an address on it?”

“Yeah,” Catalina pulled the card out of her pocket and typed the address into her maps app. It gave her a route to a location in the middle of the town. She let Siri lead them as she plugged in her phone and looked up spy music on iTunes. She found a playlist and put it on shuffle, letting the groovy guitar of “Secret Agent Man” blast through the car.

By the time they arrived, they were well into “Hawaii Five-O”. The GPS had led them to what looked like an abandoned hospital. Jungkook drove a block past it so they could walk the rest of the way. As they walked, they reviewed the plan.

“So, we can’t get caught, obviously,” said Jungkook. “We’re just sneaking in, taking a quick look, maybe some pictures, then getting out.”

“Right,” said Catalina. “Quick and fast.”

They snuck in and found a basement stairwell, which they took. The rest of the hospital was empty. They could hear voices coming from the basement, so as quietly as they could, they snuck down the stairs, which led them to a cement tunnel with a metal grated floor. The tunnel gave Catalina a sense of Déjà vu, but she couldn’t figure out why. Faint voices echoed from the end of the tunnel. They reached the end and peaked around the corner. What they saw made their jaws drop. A huge, cavernous cement room with some furniture in the middle. Doors lined the walls, some open, some closed. Catalina could see from where she was that there were people in the rooms with open doors. People sitting or laying on the ground, tubes attached to their arms connecting to IV stands, blood bags hanging from the hooks.

Jungkook was snapping rapid fire pictures of as much of the room as they could see.

The voices, which were coming from a part of the room they couldn’t see, stopped talking.

“Bernard, go check the tunnel and stairs. I thought I heard something.”

Before Bernard even had a chance to move, Catalina and Jungkook booked it back down the tunnel and up the stairs. Jungkook led the way, and he was fast, so Catalina struggled to keep up with him. Once they were at the top of the stairs, they looked around for an open room. A bit down the hall, there was an open doorframe with a missing door. They darted for it, Jungkook pulling her inside and crowding her against the wall, hidden in the shadows.

Catalina was scared they’d be caught, but now she freaking out about something entirely different, namely, Jungkook’s chest and arms caging her against the wall. He was so close that Catalina could feel the heat coming off him. Her blush made its way down her neck into her chest, her breath quickening.

“He’s coming,” Jungkook whispered, his wide eyes glued to the doorway. Sure enough, Catalina could hear heavy boots crunching through the debris in the hallway, getting closer to where they were. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” Catalina asked.

“Do you trust me?” Jungkook asked again. “I saw this in a TV show. It works every time.”

Before Catalina could ask for clarification, several things happened at once: the man, presumably Bernard, began entering the room, Jungkook pressed even closer, a hand on her waist, the other finding its way to her hair, and his lips crashed against hers. She let out a squeak of surprise but quickly caught on, gripping his shirt and leaning into the kiss.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” a man’s voice said from the doorway. They broke apart and looked at him. “This is private property, guys. Get lost.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook said, flashing a sheepish smile. Bernard stepped aside to let them past, waving them in the direction of the exit. Even though her heart was still pounding out of her chest and her head was still spinning, Catalina made a point to check Bernard’s eyes. They were red.

On their way out, they heard the crackle of a walkie talkie and Bernard saying, “It was just some kids making out upstairs. This happens way too often, boss. We gotta start putting signs up or something.”

On their way to the car, Jungkook said, “That was a close one.”

“Was that just an excuse to kiss me?” Catalina joked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Jungkook said with a wink. Catalina blushed and shoved him.

“Shut up,” she said.

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spookyold-saintjm · 4 years

Text

I’ll Always Come Back.

So uhh I’ve never written Star Wars before? Despite being a fan for over half my life LOL.

It’s big-time Poe Dameron yearning hours in this house lately. If you like it let me know and I’ll try to do more sometime?

Poe Dameron x reader

Summary: Poe hasn’t come back from his mission to retrieve the map that leads to Luke Skywalker, but you haven’t given up hope that he’s still out there.

Warnings: sexual references

Word Count: 2,393

You waited. And waited. Waited for what felt like years for a single sign that he wasn’t gone forever.

But if he was truly gone, you would have felt it, right?

You’d had many conversations in private with the general from the day you’d confessed that something was different about you. She’d instantly known, and had shared words of wisdom and instruction on how to understand and work in balance with your still-fresh Force sensitivity.

No, he wasn’t gone. He was somewhere out there, you just knew.

Poe Dameron was one of, if not the best pilot in the Resistance, and quite frankly, you were quickly catching up. You’d lost many to the First Order in your youth, seen far too much, and as soon as you were able you began training to join in the battle against them. You’d risen through ranks quickly, eventually being moved into one of the top squadrons in the Resistance. Your strong will and sharp eye made you a valuable asset, your quick wit made you likable.

Those things and then some captured Poe’s interest upon your first meeting.

You were a challenge, both in the air and otherwise, and he liked that. You were someone that wouldn’t immediately fall head-over-heels for any one-liner he could drop on you. In fact, the first night he’d sauntered over to you on a free night at the cantina, one arm leaned against the bar while you sat atop a stool beside him, you gave it right back to him without a falter. In fact, you’d hardly seemed interested at all. And it drove him crazy.

Of course, you went back to your quarters later that evening and spent far, far too long thinking about him and what those smooth-talking lips would feel like on yours.

It was a couple long months before he’d completely won you over, really meaning you’d finally given in one night and shoved him against a wall of the hallway leading to the conference room after a briefing. Bodies flush against each other, lips on lips, necks, collarbones, in the matter of a couple minutes before you’d both practically ran to his quarters. Fast. Quiet.

And that was the way things had to remain; your relationship would have absolutely been frowned upon, seen as a distraction. It was one of the reasons you’d been so hesitant to make a move, so eager to find any excuse to not allow him to creep into your thoughts when you were alone and thinking about nothing more than how much you missed someone by your side, tangled in the sheets with you in the middle of sleepless nights...

But it was more than the sex, though that was certainly something. The more you leaned about each other, both through missions together or masking your conversations as casual through through time off spent with other members of the squadron, it became more. You both realized you’d found someone to confide in, someone safe, someone who you could see yourself being around long after the war was over. And it killed the both of you to be forced to contain that assurance, that shred of hope, locked away behind closed doors, behind hushed words, ghosted touches, and glances across the meeting room that lasted a beat too long.

Poe had most recently been sent on what was his most important mission to date: to retrieve the missing piece of the map that would supposedly lead the Resistance to Luke Skywalker himself. While the mission had been painstakingly charted and planned, it was an exceptionally dangerous one. One that Poe might not come back from.

Of course, that was the case with any mission. The difference was that you weren’t joining him on this one. The general had asked specifically for your assistance at base in Poe’s absence, although you knew it was also so she would have more time to instruct you on the ways of the Force. You were grateful for the willing guidance from none other than Leia herself, and it absolutely wasn’t the first time you and Poe had been separated due to a mission, but this one in particular had filled you with a dark dread that you couldn’t escape.

You’d realized why when his comm abruptly went offline. When there was zero successful contact with his ship or his droid for hours, days. When you found yourself one night, and then another, perched on top of cargo crates in the hangar long after you’d finished your work, waiting for his ship to make its descent back to base. Back to you.

Yet another day was coming to a close. A couple of your fellow pilots had invited you to dinner, but you simply weren’t feeling up to talking to anyone that night, playing it off as need of a good night’s sleep before trudging back to your quarters.

You stripped off your gear and took a quick shower, allowing the hot water to ease some of the tension gathered in your back and shoulders. When you finished, you changed into black jogger-style pants and a white tank before grabbing your data pad to read over any new information you might have missed during the day.

You had finished checking reports and were preparing to settle back into your bed when you felt it. It was a tingling down your spine, a sudden, dull throb in your chest, and something more that you couldn’t describe.

You froze, your initial reaction to scan your room for any signs of something amiss. You laid a hand on your chest in an attempt to dull the feeling, but it was already gone, as fast as it had come. Something had happened, here, at the base. But what the kriff did it mean?

The feeling trickled through you again, and realization hit you like blaster fire straight to your gut. You were sprinting down the hallway without a second thought.

Once you reached the meeting room you were headed for, you slammed your access card against the panel that opened the door and burst inside.

“General—”

Leia’s back was to you as she stared down at a screen blinking with an influx of information. She turned toward you, not seeming at all surprised at your sudden presence or your informal dress as you approached her side.

“It’s—it’s him, isn’t it?” You asked. You forced a light cough the second you acknowledged the implication of the familiarity in your question and quickly added “P—Commander Dameron, that is. I…I felt it.”

“See for yourself." Leia gestured toward the screen she’d been staring down at when you’d entered. You quickly scanned the message, certain words standing out in your mind more than others: Kylo Ren. First Order. Captured. Crash. BB-8. Return.

Most importantly, he was on his way back to base at that very moment.

“What do you need from me?” You asked the general, and a small smile crossed her face as she gave you instructions on preparing things for Poe’s return. The next few hours were some of the longest of your life, but eventually you received word that he was beginning to make his descent.

You took off toward the hangar, as fast as your legs would carry you.

The droning alarms which signaled an approaching aircraft became louder as you turned the corner, making the final stretch to the hangar. A few others lingering around for the evening had come to see the result of the commotion, and you hastily pushed past them with a muttered apology. When you arrived you saw that the general was already there waiting, along with a group of other pilots, officers, and others who had been around at the time the alarms sounded.

The battered hunk of metal Poe had managed to procure touched the ground, and you felt as if your heart was going to burst straight out of your chest as you waited for the hatch to open. You anchored your feet when the commander himself emerged from the cockpit, dropping to the ground with slightly slumped shoulders, his exhaustion apparent in your eyes, but likely not to the others. When he slipped off his helmet, despite the disheveled hair and face covered in dirt and faint traces of blood, he looked like the same self-assured Commander Dameron that everyone had come to know.

You kept walking, slowly, not wanting to make a scene of your approach. Poe was speaking to the general, his exterior stern but behind his eyes…frantic. Panicked. Things hadn’t gone as planned. Well, obviously, but there was more to the story. You knew you would find out later. Right now, all you cared about was him.

He caught sight of you when you were still a few yards away. He had stopped speaking mid-sentence, had excused himself from the general, had waved away the medical droid that had rolled over to his side. His eyes locked onto yours as you walked towards him.

He moved aside one of his officers and met you halfway.

“y/l/n.” He used your last name in greeting, the same way you always did in front of others. His lips were just barely parted as he stared down at you, his eyes taking a quick moment to scan your face, the outfit you were wearing, then back to meet your own eyes.

“Commander.” Your chest was trembling inside, your breath coming out in broken pants from running as you scanned over his bruised and bloodied face. “Wh—are you—“

The breath was sucked from your lungs when he suddenly pulled you in, your body thudding against his chest when he threw his arms around your frame, and you could practically feel the relief flooding his veins, and your own. His chin rested on your shoulder, and your own arms folded around him, your fingers digging into his flight suit, all of your senses taking in every part of him; Poe was here, he was okay, he was alive.

“I—I felt you out there.” You admitted, keeping your words at a whisper both so others wouldn’t hear and because you were afraid your voice would crack if you were any louder. “I tried and tried to call out to you, to make sure you were okay—“

“I know,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your back. “I know."

You stepped back, forcing him to lift his head. His hands drifted to wrap around your arms, just below your shoulders. You studied his face, and reached to trace your finger along the gash on his cheek.

“Miss me, sweetheart?” he asked lowly, eyebrow cocked in amusement at the pure longing in your face as you stared up at him.

Your gentle caress quickly turned into a light, playful tap against his cheek, your expression shifting into a playfully mocking smirk.

“Not even in your wildest dreams, flyboy.”

“Mm, and if I haven’t had some wild dreams about you…” He leaned into your palm that somehow hadn’t separated from his cheek, his rough lips ever so gently pressing against the spot between your thumb and index finger. You felt a chill run down your spine, and this time it wasn’t the Force talking. Oh, stars. He’d been back all of five minutes and was already driving you mad.

You quickly shook yourself out of it and dropped your arm back to your side. “Poe, you need rest.” You sniffled, crinkling your nose for effect. “And a shower.”

Poe chuckled. “Alright, alright. But don’t think this is over.”

“I could never imagine you giving up so easily.”

The two of you began to walk towards the door that would eventually lead to Poe’s quarters when you saw the general from the corner of your eye, bringing you to a screeching halt.

She looked at you from across the way with knowing eyes. Of course she knew; you should have realized by now that you couldn’t keep it a secret from her. You’d given it away the second you’d burst into the communications room that evening, the connection that you had with him.

You weren’t sure how to respond, if you should walk over to her, or simply continue on and prepare for the reprimand of your life later. You quickly glanced back at Poe, who was still, tiredly, approaching the opposite side of the hangar.

When your eyes met Leia’s again, her expression had softened. With her arms crossed in front of her, she jerked her head in Poe’s direction, the faintest smile crossing her face.

Go. You could almost hear her say it. You followed her command, jogging to catch back up with Poe, who had noticed your absence at his side.

“What was that about?” he asked, looking over your head to where the general had been standing, but she had already disappeared. He looked back to you. “Are you guys doing some kind of weird Force-stuff now? You gossiping about me or something?”

“Oh, please,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. Poe only let out a low chuckle in reply.

Once you’d gone back inside and turned the corner, his fingers were intertwined with yours until you reached his quarters and you were promptly led over to his bed. He hovered over you, his kiss deep and slow and heavy with need, his hands braced on either side of you.

When your lips parted, he stared down at you with eyes full of devotion. “I missed you so much.” A kiss to your nose, your forehead. "I will always come back to you, y/n. I swear it.”

You stared back up at him, your breaths already shallow. You managed to let out a contented sigh just before he pressed his forehead against yours.

“And I’ll always be with you,” you promised, your eyelids nearly fluttering shut at the pure ecstasy of being near him again. Of knowing that the man you were now certain you loved had returned to you. That no matter what, the Force would keep you bound together. While the end of this war wouldn’t come easily, you would do whatever it took to ensure a future with Poe by your side.

#can't believe i'm doing this #i may add to this idk #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x male reader #poe dameron imagine #my writing

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tfw-no-tennis · 3 years

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mtmte liveblog issue 28

catch me completely ignoring dark cybertron lmao

yeahhhh so I'm just gonna skip dark cybertron bc no thanks. I did read the tf wiki articles for the issues tho, which is more than I did in the past, so at least now I kinda know what happened, though I had to suffer thru reading about dark cybertron to learn stuff about it. yikes. reading ABOUT dark cybertron further enforced my decision to not actually read thru it

anyways. the best part of dark cybertron was when chromedome threw prowl off that cliff. that was baller lmfao

a 1 page recap of dark cybertron is about all I can handle. thank you

ooh, the 6 months later smash-cut, I fucking love itttt

nautica’s here!!!!!!!!!!! I'm so happy I love her. also brainstorm, and I love their friendship sm

hvbjdkhfbshdfj god I love them. they have such a fun dynamic

everyone eavesdropping on a therapy session vhbhdjkhafbhkjsdf. hipaa laws mean nothing as usual

the casual reveal of captain megatron, oh god

the title fucking slaps, as usual. this is one of my favorites - ‘world, shut your mouth.’ great stuff, and a song title/reference to boot! and this being part 1: towards peace...chefs kiss

and then we flash back to 6 months earlier...yknow now that I'm rereading this, mtmte has a LOT of framing devices used - there's story-within-a-story, flashback/flash-forwards, storytelling with narration, etc...I love it

god hbvhjakdfbshjkdf rodimus saying ‘magic’ and then the little *magic = science rodimus doesn't understand HBGKJHSDBFKHJSDF my idiot boy ily

rodimus roasting prowl is my fav hbfjdkafshsbjkf ‘maybe the knights can help us find a cure for your personality’ ily sm

and then prowl agreeing w/rodimus a few panels later about megatron’s guilt...

optimus...don't you think that making yourself chief of justice is...maybe a bad idea...like, maybe there's a conflict of interests here...just a little bit of bias...a bit too much history, perhaps...

the fact that all the big roles in the trial were given to high-ranking autobots who were heavily involved in the war...I see that cybertrons justice system is as much of a farce as their medical ethics and patient confidentiality laws

the ‘you BROKE the MATRIX’ panel is so good bjhkdhfbajskhdf

rodimus: LISTEN dad I just wanna resume my space cruise with my frat bro ship I have no interest in politics

psychiatrists HATE him! local former warlord refuses to recognize the validity of psychological analyzation of people’s actions

ravage casually breaking hipaa laws and chilling in megatron’s therapy session like >:3

I love rung...he’s so good at like, passive-aggressively cutting right to the heart of someone’s issues, and he’s so generally mild that you can’t even really get mad at him

the sudden inclusion of megatron as a major character in mtmte is kinda jarring at first - mostly, for me at least, due in part because I didn't read dark cybertron so this is like, megatron’s introduction as a relevant character in general - but I feel like jro does a great job laying a lot of intrigue down from the very beginning w/his character - like, I already want to know more about what his whole deal is, even though we have, ostensibly, seen pretty much all of his story play out already

rung name-dropping froid...i remember that made me lose my shit bc cmon. FROID....jesus christ

rung and megatron: holy shit! we’re suddenly being drawn in a 90s-esque sci-fi tron-looking retro-futuristic style!

interesting that megatron sought rung out, and not the other way around

RIPTIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favorite sharkboy is HERE

CREWDITIONS...YES....

‘we’re not allowed to take anyone who might remind rodimus of prowl’ vhbhjdkshfbhaskfd brutal

I love nautica so so much. a perfect autistic scientist after my own heart

I adore that nautica brought chromia along for moral support

hgvbjdakhfbhsj and then swerve saying that rodimus hates ‘trisyllabic names’ and nautica is like....but....‘rodimus’.....

and then nightbeat busts in to get all bbc sherlock on they asses hgbfhjadkfbjaskdf

WHY was perceptor at the crewditions if he was already part of the crew lmao

ooof, and then we have megatron flipping out when chromedome, a mnemosurgeon, shows up

also damn the autobots were rlly like okay so we wanna speed this trial up so lets just like, probe megatrons brain, that seems completely ethical, especially when you consider the history of shadowplay and stuff that our previous government had

I know important stuff is happening but megatron is holding a CUBE and I love CUBES so I'm distracted by that. C U B E

and then right after a scene where we see chromedome willing to perform mnemosurgery again - despite rewind’s like, dying wish for him not to - we hear that he’s been locked up in his room rewatching rewinds goodbye message over and over again :( I'm fucking depressed

I love nightbeat, he’s so funny and kind of an asshole

and then you see more missing letters behind them next panel...clearly nightbeat is right and there’s a mystery afoot...OR somebody is fucking with the ship’s lettering as a prank, which is a plot point I would absolutely buy

yeahhhh skids is right, chromedome is clearly Not dealing

the dramatic graffiti on megatrons door...I wanna know who spray-painted ‘die’ everywhere like they're reaper overwatch

oh god. whirl vs megatron

really cool red lighting tho

GOD its so brutal, all the stuff megatron said about how he told the cons not to kill whirl...and doesn't that end up being false anyways? so he was just saying it to dig at whirl, which is awful

also I'm never over the fact that literally everyone - including megatron and whirl - blames whirl for ‘turning megatron violent,’ as if the entire Point isn't that whirl was a tool for a corrupt system, and if it wasn't whirl it would've just been someone else, and megatron turning away from pacifism was inevitable given the circumstances, AND also a choice on his part, so he really only has himself to blame for his OWN ACTIONS

bye bye whirls right arm, see you in lost light

‘people never stop changing’ that IS something I say all the time...damn you warlord grandpa! how can you steal my philosophies?!

ohhh man and then rewind’s goodbye message being different....oooh

AUGH the fact that whirl was basically trying to goad megatron into killing him, just like he did in issue 1 w/cyclonus...It Hurts Man

also I do love the hint at who he’s talking to w/whirl shooting megatron with the bow and arrow earlier, and we know that atomizer is a fan of those

ok, but here’s where my philosophy diverges - megatron talks about throwing away his past and starting new, but I think that you have to learn from and build on your past...either way, megatron’s arc is one that I enjoy greatly from a character writing standpoint, and I'm excited to get it underway, especially w/how controversial it is lmao

big ole double-page spread...I like how you can pick out individual characters in the background crowd, which is crazy cause that's a LOT of people. also how come cosmos is so HUGE

phewwww 4.6 billion cybertronians died in the war, that’s INSANE. that's like, an incomprehensibly huge number. is there an estimate for their current population? I bet its not a lot. no wonder jro leaned into reproductive themes so much in mtmte/ll - of course the continuation of your species would be a concern for many if your numbers have been that greatly reduced

optimus w/his fancy tyrest-lookin crown

oughdajbfsbdf and the fact that megatron ALSO murdered 100 BILLION non-cybertronians...bruh. I feel like they maybe should've dialed those numbers back a little to allow his ‘redemption arc’ to run a little smoother lmao. but also I admire the commitment either way

and then we end w/megatron doing captain stuff, and seeing The Coffin...and we never did see rodimus in any of the flash-forward parts of this issue, did we???? I love how concerning that is. where's my BOY

also of course we gotta remember the warning from way back at the beginning of mtmte: ‘don't open the coffin’....

and so begins mtmte s2! man I love s2. I love mtmte in general lmao. s2 takes on the impossible w/the whole ‘megatron redemption arc’ thing, and I know that’s like, a divisive plot point and stuff, but from a writing standpoint I enjoyed it a lot...I think it was pretty much as well done as it could've been given the enormity of the task, and I thought it was a really interesting direction for the story to go in

also espec if it’s true that hasbro was like ‘hey jro put megatron in your story and give him a redemption arc’ rather than jro like, planning/asking to do it

anyways. I doubt ill talk much abt the disc horse(tm) here bc this is just for fun and also my own personal opinions and whatever, but I for one am excited to reexperience this stuff

so yeah s2 off to a strong start with some wild shit already happening! cant wait to read more!

#lj rereads mtmte

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littleeyesofpallas · 4 years

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Bleach - Name Games

I know I already threw together the master list for these posts, but I realized another set of characters I could still bundle together. Although they aren’t quite as interesting and loaded as a lot of the shinigami names had been. Here’s the Fullbringers!

Ginjou [銀城] Kuugo[空吾]

“Silver Castle” is his family name, which seems dignified, and in retrospect almost feels like an accidental point toward the Quincy. And his personal name is written “Void/Sky/Heavens”+“My/Our” I can’t tell which of the two readings feels like it makes more sense; “Our Heaven” or “My/Our Void” either of which position him as the leader of Xcution, but “My Void” also feels like it describes some of his personal conflict.

Interestingly his name is also a kind of wordplay on Ichigo’s name. The “Silver Castle” is a kind of opposed image to Kurosaki[黒崎] “Black Cape” and like Ichigo’s own wordplay with numbers, “Kuugo” reads similarly to [九五] “Nine + Five.” In a lot of numerological systems, which frequently disregard zero, 1 and 9 are opposed terminals in a sequence. It’s a little hard to tell if Kubo meant for it, but it does kind of scan as if Kuugo is just named like a sort of bizarro Ichigo.

His Fullbring Cross of Scaffold is a dumb name with no meaning, and I only bring it up now because I’ll be mentioning the others’ Fullbrings while I’m at it.

Tsukishima[月島] Shuukurou[秀九郎]

“Moon Island“ and “Excellent Nine(th) Son.“ Curiously it piggybacks off Kuugo’s subtle Nine pun, and I really can’t help but want to draw ties between the “Moon” and Ichigo’s sword, as well as the “Island” and Ichigo’s “Cape/Peninsula.” Without taking these two characters into consideration, the name really doesn’t seem to have any implicit meaning in relation to Tsukishima himself.

Tsukishima is also an actual place in the Chuou ward of Tokyo. It’s the product of a reclamation project centered around what was the namesake island. But I don’t think the name is supposed to reference that, because for one you wouldn’t normally have someone’s family named after a place based on its modern state, and also because it’s not like the small district has any particular features linked to Tsukishima’s character.

Book of the End I feel like was meant to be an attempt at double meaning with Book End, but I don’t think Kubo understood that even though “of” and “the” aren’t really present in Japanese and have to be added in when translating into English, it doesn’t mean you can just take or add them into English in the same way.

Dokugamine[毒ヶ峰] Riruka[リルカ]

The Ga[ヶ] here reads as a possessive, as part of a place name, making her surname “Poison’s Peak“ and the given name, Riruka is just in katakana, so there’s no meaning to read; It is an actual Japanese name, and so there are a few conventional readings it would normally have, but I don’t think Kubo intended for any of those meanings to apply to Riruka. Actually, I think he wrote her name in kana specifically to make her a kind of parallel to Rukia, like Kuugo is a parallel to Ichigo. Also the pigtails, a bit of the attitude, and the poison shtick feels like it was salvaged off Loly Aivirrne’s general design.

Her Fullbring, Dollhouse was, I believe, a reference to the Priscilla album. It’s a little too generic a name to say for certain, but given the time frame and that fact that Kubo went all Jojo and named most of the other Fullbrings after music albums, it lines up.

Kutsuzawa[沓沢] Giriko[ギリコ]

Weirdly his surname translates as “Boots”+”Swamp” which seems almost tailor made for Jackie Tristan’s character, and has no apparent meaning in relation to Giriko... (I won’t actually be covering Jackie in this considering her name has no Kanji at all) And the name Giriko, as you can see above, is another kana only name. The sound girigiri[ぎりぎり] is the sound of grinding, which might actually be part of what Kubo was going for here. i.e. the grinding of gears (of a clock).

(A kind of random sidenote is that the name Giriko was used in Soul Eater for a character who is a living weapon; his weapon form of choice being a chainsaw, so the name evokes the sounds of a grinding chainsaw blade.)

Unrelated to name though, what was up with Giriko originally having what definitely appears to be a riding crop that just never showed back up?? I get this weird BDSM dom vibe from his first appearance, although they pretty quickly resolve the formal wear into his bar tender aesthetic. That may have had its own implications related to “grinding” sounds.

His Fullbring, Time Tells No Lies, is a Praying Mantis album. Between that and the eyepatch he almost feels like a rehash of Nnoitra Gilga’s character notes...

Also, since there’s not going to be any other place to put it: Jackie Tristan’s Fullbring, Dirty Boots is an album by Sonic Youth. And the more I think about this, I wonder if Giriko wasn’t supposed to have Dirty Boots at first, because honestly it would kind of play into that initial BDSM vibe he had, and Jackie’s little leather biker cap feels like a leather daddy kink thing more than just a biker boots thing. And even after her powered up form gave her the little engine and exhaust pipe pauldron thing to kind of pull it together, her boots aren’t even particularly in the American biker style. This isn’t really going anywhere, just something to think about...

Yukio[雪绪] Hans Vorarlberna[ハンス･フォラルルベルナ]

Yukio’s given name reads as “Snow Thread,” although the kanji used for “Thread” here is a weird archaic form that isn’t really used, but it is closely related to a more modern kanji that reads as “chord” or “thread.” Hans Vorarlberna is not a real name, but Vorarlberg is a state of Austria; I have no idea what the name means though, and I just assume Kubo picked it just because it sounded cool...

It feels like there was supposed to be some kind of parallel or theme in him getting paired off to fight Hitsugaya; Both kids, both light hair and ice/cold themed names and demeanor. (I almost get the feeling Kubo wanted him to have white hair until he remembered/was reminded that he already has like 5 other white haired characters running around.) We knew by that point that Kubo had a penchant for clever thematic fights like the Ants and Dragons fights during the Arrancar Arc. Yet there’s not really anything it this one?

His Fullbring, Invaders Must Die, is an album by The Prodigy.

Shishigawara[獅子河原] Moe[萌笑]

Family name is “Lion River-Beach” with Shishi referring to the animal itself but also the mythical lion dogs often depicted as guardian statues outside shinto shrines. The given name Moe[萌笑] reads like “Bud(ding) Laughter” as in the start of a laugh. The same “Budding” phrase can refer to showing symptoms of something like an illness.

I don’t actually know what to make of this name either; his general disposition as a bit of a goofball seems pretty aptly reflected in the given name, but the surname feels oddly specifically chosen for one that doesn’t seem to impart much meaning... I’m wondering if there’s not a more subtle or even just superficial form of wordplay that I’m missing here by not being fluent or more familiar with casual conversational phrases in Japanese.

Like Ginjou and Tsukishima, his Fullbring falls outside the album theme. Lucky Knuckles are just an actual thing: Gold plated knuckle dusters with slot machine lucky 777s on them.

#bleach #fullbring #xcution #ginjo kugo #tsukishima shukuro #riruka dokugamine #yukio hans vorarlberna #jackie tristan

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spartanguard · 4 years

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all the memories that we make will never change (CSJJ 2020)

Summary: Oh don't you wonder when the light begins to fade? / And the clock just makes the colors turn to grey / Forever younger growing older just the same / All the memories that we make will never change (Henry and Lucy find some polaroids of a long-lost night, of a couple in the throes of young love. / Emma and Killian meet in a nightclub, and their lives will never be the same.)

rated M | 5.3k words | AO3

A/N: Here’s my contribution to @csjanuaryjoy 2020! Thanks to the organizer for putting on this event again; it’s my third time participating and it’s always fun! This was inspired by the song “Golden Days” by Panic! At The Disco; it’s told in present-day and flashbacks (and it will all make sense at the end). (it was also slightly inspired by my parents, even if they didn’t meet until a few years later.) enjoy!

2020

“Hey, Dad? What are these?”

Henry looked up from the bin of records he was sorting through in the musty basement, over at where his daughter was doing the same. Or had been; Lucy’s attention was less on the old albums in front of her and instead focused on what she’d apparently found within them.

“Seriously? You don’t know what a Polaroid looks like?” he teased as he set down Aladdin Sane and stepped over. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

She huffed. “No duh, I know what they are. You only played ‘Hey Ya’ a million times when I was little.” Okay, maybe he was the one failing if that was her only frame of reference on instant photos. “But look!”

She shoved the stack of pictures into his hands, and once he got a look at the one on top, it was like being jolted into the past.

Frozen in time was a couple clearly in the throes of young love; it was obvious from the way they only had eyes for each other, though the background suggested they were at a club (a disco, maybe?). The date on the corner said August 1979, but the woman’s Farrah Fawcett curls and strapless jumpsuit, paired with the man’s wide-open, chest-baring top and perfectly coiffed hair, did a good job of telling him the era on their own.

He glanced over the next few pictures behind it: all similar, and a good number with part of an arm in the shot; a vintage selfie. He suspected a number of couples nowadays had similar sets of photos on their phones. (He knew he and Ella did.)

But as curious as he was to continue skimming, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding—there was something intimate about these images that modern digital photography couldn’t match.

------------------------

1979

Killian nursed his rum probably a bit more clinically than he needed to. While it had been his favored vice not too long ago, he was trying to put those days behind him. But his friends insisted he still needed to get out and “have fun,” whatever that meant anymore. At least they were—he could see Jasmine and Al twirling their way across the illuminated dance floor from his seat at the bar.

The deejay played decent music, he’d give it that. But drinking and dancing were in his past, he was sure.

Until he spotted an angel on the other side of the club, and wondered if maybe he’d been too hasty in writing off this outing.

Her likeness to a celestial being had minimal to do with the style of her hair, even if it was clearly modeled after one made popular on a certain ridiculous television program. No, it was the way she moved freely and joyfully in her red, fitted jumpsuit; the joy as she threw her head back in laughter at something one of her companions said; and her easy smile as she danced, full of a youthful exuberance that Killian was pretty sure he’d never had; he’d done a lot of living in his 25 years.

He didn’t typically even go for blondes, but before he knew it, he’d downed the rest of his drink, hopped off the bar stool, and started to pick his way across the dance floor. He checked himself over as he maneuvered around moving bodies, briefly debating if he needed to do up another button on his paisley shirt or rather undo another, and then realized: he had no idea what to say.

He froze feet away from her. Just what was he doing?

Then someone bumped into him, making him stumble forward—almost into her arms. Which might have been better than the sharp way his chest collided with her shoulder, sending her reeling into the brunette next to her.

“Hey, man—watch out!” the other woman shouted as she set her friend to rights.

“Apologies; I meant no...harm…” he tried to explain, trailing off when he saw Jasmine from the corner of his eye, giving him a sheepish grin as they danced away. He should have seen that coming, really.

“It’s fine,” the blonde sighed, annoyed, and Killian felt his chance slipping away faster than the overall sobriety level in the club.

But then she turned to him, and there was concern in her big green eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I think so, yeah,” he said, then quickly added, “but I’d be better if you danced with me.”

She quirked an eyebrow and gave him a wry look. “Oh yeah? Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.”

“That’s because you haven’t met me yet.” He had no idea where this swagger was coming from, but he didn’t want to think too hard about it, lest it disappear. “Name’s Killian.”

“Hi, Killian,” she said, offering a hand. “I’m Emma.”

He took her dainty hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back while holding her gaze—which, if he was being honest, seemed as much confused as it did flattered.

“What do you say, love? Care to take a turn about the floor?”

She bit her glossed lip and looked back to her friend, who was giving her a wolfish grin in return and promptly shooed her away. “Okay,” she shrugged with a smile when she turned back to him.

He grinned back, partly in relief but mostly that he hadn’t been shot down. It was a boost to his confidence he didn’t realize he’d needed—and it just might have broken his freshly healed heart if she’d said no.

He led her a step or two away from her friend, so they could have a bit of space, and placed his blunted wrist on her hip. She glanced down at it and he froze; he was finally starting to get comfortable with his lack of appendage there, but most people still acted squeamish about it.

To his surprise, though, she didn’t seem to take much note of it and found his eyes again. If anything, she moved closer, and they wordlessly started to sway to the pounding rhythm—or, at least, their hips began to shift in time with the music and each other, and really, that was all that was needed.

Their feet eventually got the message, picked up the beat, and began to carry them around the floor. Killian found himself falling into some ancient habits he wasn’t aware were still in his muscle’s memory, and his heart skipped a bit as he watched an amused smile take over Emma’s face.

“You sure are a swell dancer,” she told him. “How’d you learn to dance like this?”

“It’s simple, really; there’s only one rule,” he replied, then leaned in closer. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

She grinned and looked down, but if she was trying to avoid letting him know her thoughts on the matter, she failed—even in the orange light, he could see the blush on her cheeks.

For a moment, he worried he might have come on too strong and she’d push away, but quite the opposite happened: she moved even impossibly closer, sliding her hand down to his waist to pull herself to him. The pinpricks of light from the disco ball danced over them like stars, illuminating the glitter on her collarbones and cheeks; goodness, were they in a dance hall or a fairy tale?

The bodies and music around them began to fade away as his focus narrowed on Emma: on the soft pout of her lips, the easy smile that played at them, the feel of her body against his…

And then the rest of the club came back into startling clarity as the music abruptly changed, loud horns signifying the beginning of an overplayed and overhyped Village People tune.

“Oh god, I hate this song,” Emma cursed, equally jarred by the change, it seemed. But she hadn’t made a move away from him.

“Agreed,” he replied; but if she didn’t want to dance, he needed another way to stay close to her. “Can, uh...can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure!”

He wasn’t expecting her enthusiasm, and the wide-eyed look she gave him after suggested she wasn’t expecting it either. He chuckled, but squeezed her hand and led her back to the bar.

They found an open spot near the end and the bartender was quick; Emma ordered red wine, and Killian said “Make it two.” The bartender glanced between them, then grabbed a couple glasses and set a bottle down in front of them, with the direction to have fun.

“Well, he was awfully presumptuous,” Killian said, again not wanting to come on too strong.

Emma just shrugged, though, and popped the cork. “He didn’t say what kind of fun.” Her tone was laced with innuendo, though, as she poured their glasses. “For example, we can have fun with this,” she continued, offering her glass up for a toast; he took his and clinked it with hers before taking a sip (not the best he’d had, but not the worst). “Orrrr, with this!” she exclaimed, reaching around him for something on the bar.

She produced a Polaroid camera, looking proud as punch with her prize. “Is that yours?” he asked.

“Nope,” she answered, popping the ‘p’. “It was just sitting here.”

It was a good thing he was staring at her in dazed admiration, because the next thing he saw was the bright light of the flash temporarily blinding him. “Bloody hell,” he cursed, blinking. “Warn a man next time!”

“Oh, but candid shots are always best,” she teased, pulling out the picture and shaking it. “I can’t wait to see it.”

“Oh really?” He wasted no time in setting down his drink and taking the camera from her, relying on speed for shock, and quickly snapped a pic, too. “That should be a good one, then.”

“Asshole,” she tried to complain, but her smirk gave her away. “That’s gonna be terrible.”

“Impossible,” he countered, “when the subject is so lovely.”

She was leaning on the bar, rolling her eyes, so he stepped closer and mirrored her pose. “You’re full of it,” she laughed.

“I’m actually quite shy and reserved.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he conceded, and snapped another picture with his outstretched arm.

“Oh my god, you—!” Whatever she was about to say was lost in the struggle of her wrestling the camera back from him; he let her take it, especially when her chest brushed against his in the friendly scuffle. She yanked out the photo and put it on the bar with the others, shaking her head. “You’re wasting film, you know.”

“I highly doubt that.” She hadn’t made any effort to leave his personal space yet again.

“Besides, there are so many better things to take pictures of.”

“Also not true.”

“I’m just saying—why would you bother with pictures like that, when you could take ones like this?” she said, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Like what?”

She answered by grabbing the lapel of his vest and hauling his lips to hers. She pressed herself against his entire upper body as her mouth claimed his, and he was quick to surrender to her passionate kiss. He heard the flash bulb go off as she likely took another snap, but he was too lost in her to care much. He wrapped his left arm around her to hold her close while the other found her waist and anchored himself to her.

They eventually broke apart for a breather, but he continued to pepper kisses down her chin and neck, and he could feel her fingers toying with his chest hair. Another flash bulb.

“You don’t work for Playgirl or something, do you?” he breathed.

“No,” she giggled. “Just liking what I see; and I don’t want to forget it.”

“Nor do I.”

They resumed kissing for a moment, Emma going so far as to wrap a leg around him and bring her core to where he was obviously wanting her—which only seemed to egg her on, and he had no reservations in palming her pert rear end through her jumpsuit.

“Do you live nearby?” she asked on their next breath.

“Aye,” he nodded; he could hardly remember where, he was so intoxicated by her, but at least knew that much.

“Do you want to go back?”

“Only if you do.”

“I definitely do.”

“Alright then.”

She gave him another kiss on the cheek, then asked him to sit tight as she let her friends know. He quickly downed the rest of his glass, threw some cash down to pay the tab (probably not the right amount but he hardly cared), then gathered up the pictures they’d taken from where they landed scattered across the bar.

He didn’t know what lay ahead, but something told me he’d want something to help him remember this night.

------------------------

2020

“What are they wearing?” Lucy giggled. “That shirt is so ugly!”

Henry chuckled. “That was just the style back then; he actually would have been considered pretty debonair and suave at the time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

They continued to flip through the photos. “Say what you will, but she seems pretty into it,” he lectured; not like he had much room to talk—he had no idea how he’d managed to catch Ella’s eye with the kind of stuff they wore in the late 90s. (There was definitely a bonfire fueled by a pair of JNCO jeans and ratty plaid shirts in his past.)

The background of the photos changed as the pair moved out of the club and onto the street—one he immediately recognized. It changed again to a dock, with ships bobbing behind the pair.

“Is that…?” Lucy asked when the couple apparently boarded one of them.

“Yeah, looks like it is,” Henry had to agree; he knew exactly where they were.

And the next couple of pictures told him exactly what they were doing. (He made a point to keep those away from Lucy’s view.)

------------------------

1979

Emma still couldn’t believe she’d proposed this. She had a kid; what was she doing out on the town, following a guy she’d just met back to his place?

(Ruby, that’s what—she could never say no to her best friend, especially when said friend’s granny was providing free babysitting and said friend had also told her to “do him before I do”.) She pulled up the top of her strapless (borrowed) jumpsuit, amazed that it had stayed on this long, and took in a deep breath of the refreshing air outside the club.

“That’s much better,” Killian said, and then Emma registered the pop of the flashbulb behind her closed eyes.

“You’re gonna make me regret picking that thing up,” she teased. “And I wasn’t gonna steal it!”

“Too late,” he shrugged. Even in the yellow light of the street lamps, she could see the mischief sparkling in his blue eyes and hiding in the dimples that cut into his scruffy beard. He didn’t seem like he was too much older than her, but he’d clearly been through a lot. Which was good, since she had, too.

“Are you just gonna be the paparazzi or are we going to go somewhere more fun?” she asked, pressing herself into his space—partly because she liked the kind of shocked look he got on his face when she did, and partly because she just wanted to be close to him and his impressive display of chest hair.

“I’d be more than happy to escort the lady to a more comfortable location,” he said, making her swoon; god, she never did that. She almost lost focus in stealing the camera back, but managed to before he could fight it.

“Lead the way,” she whispered.

He just swallowed and nodded, then took her hand and led her down the sidewalk.

The air cooled as they went and she could smell the salt of the harbor as they got closer to the docks; not a long walk, but not too short that they couldn’t get to know each other a bit. His last name was Jones; he was 25; he’d enlisted in the Army right out of high school and served a few years in Vietnam, until he lost his hand. “I didn’t want to fight, but I didn’t really have any other options. My brother died over there, so I guess I thought I’d avenge him, or something,” he admitted. “Not my best idea.”

She knew all about that. After all, she was 21 years old and already a mother to a 3-year-old; she clearly had no room to judge. He took it in stride, though, and was quick to ask about her kid; it was actually refreshing not to have someone do the math in their head and start scowling. “It’s been hard, but he’s probably the best thing that ever happened to me,” she told him, establishing some boundaries.

“Well, you strike me as a tough lass, Swan,” he replied; she was beginning to love the sound of her last name on his tongue. “It sounds like you two are doing just fine.”

She hid her blush by taking a picture of his encouraging smile, which quickly turned into a sputter.

He stole back the camera—and her breath—with a kiss after that.

She returned the favor, pressing him against a fence at the marina—but not too forcefully; she didn’t feel like swimming tonight.

“Hopefully you’re alright with sailing, though,” he murmured, guiding her down one of the docks.

“You live on a boat?”

“Please—it’s a ship.”

Whatever it was, it was gorgeous—all hardwood and classic-looking. The sails were tucked away but she had to imagine it looked impressive out at sea, and the idea of Killian at the helm, sun tanning his skin as the wind whipped them along...damn, what an image.

(Okay, maybe Ruby had been right earlier when she said Emma needed to get laid.)

He casually stepped onto the ship, unphased by the way the deck shifted under him, and extended a hand to her to help her down. Her platform sandals were absolutely not the right shoes for this, so she nearly stumbled as she stepped aboard—right into his (strong, sturdy) arms.

“It’s about bloody time,” he purred.

“Like I haven’t been over you all night,” she countered (and made sure not to bring up the body glitter that had found its way into his chest hair).

“No, but it’s nice to finally be alone.”

“It is.” Without another word, they picked up where they’d left off in the club: hands wandering, lips tasting, bodies not able to get close enough—but she didn’t have enough balance on the rolling deck to try to hitch her leg around him again.

“You got a bed on this thing?” she panted.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A minute later, they were below deck, in a cozy cabin. Two minutes later, he’d undone the zipper on her jumpsuit, letting it fall around her ankles. Three, and she’d opened his way-too-many buttons to reveal his frankly stunning array of chest hair and was quickly discovering how far south it went. (Answer: all the way.)

The bed wasn’t exactly large, or solid, but anything would do once he got her worked up, his fingers dancing over her breasts, overheated skin, and aching sex.

He hovered over her after he got the condom on, clearly nervous even though they were both stark naked and had been dry humping for who-knew-how-long.

She drew her bare heel up over his firm thigh and pert ass, then pressed against it, bringing his hard length almost to where she wanted—no, needed it. “Please,” she panted, not sure what else to say.

“As you wish.”

That took her by surprise—she wanted to ask if he’d read her favorite book, The Princess Bride—but then he was pressing into her and anything she could say came out as a gasp. Holy shit, did he feel good.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said in a strained voice; fuck, she’d said that out loud.

“You should,” she answered. “And if you want another—move.” She punctuated the command by pressing her other heel into him.

As eager as she was, she wasn’t ready for the feel of him dragging along her inner walls, then pressing back forward; it really had been too long since she’d done anything like this with another person. But she got the impression Killian was in a similar boat (pun not intended).

That didn’t stop him from being “fucking amazing,” she sighed.

“You...too…” he grunted as he pressed. She did all she could to keep up and match him thrust for thrust, but all too soon, she was gripping his broad shoulders for dear life.

It was like riding a roller coaster: she was climbing, climbing, climbing, and then she was free falling with a shout as her orgasm peaked and carried her away with it. He wasn’t far behind, coming with a shout of her name and eventually collapsing beside her. It made the whole bed shake but honestly, it was no worse than what they’d just put it through.

Once they both caught their breath, he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and then got up to clean things, but was back faster than she expected he’d be, flopping down next to her.

“Bloody hell, love; that…”

For someone as seemingly verbose as he was, having him speechless was definitely a boost to her ego. “Incredible? Fantastic? Far out? Groovy?”

“I’d never dream of putting something like that so colloquially,” he answered, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “But perhaps we need to give it another go so I can properly describe it.”

“Mm, I think I’d be down with that,” she said, smiling. Normally, she’d be headed for the door already—but there was just something about Killian that made her want to stay, and it wasn’t just the mindblowing sex.

“Good.” He pounced on her lips again, and round two was just as fabulous as the first. (So was the third.)

And a few hours later, she woke in his arms to the obnoxious sound of an alarm clock blaring. But he just gripped her tighter from behind and buried his head in her neck, tickling her with his beard.

“You gonna get that?” she asked, both annoyed and still sleepy.

“Ugh, I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I need to get ready for work and you’ll have to go.”

She turned in his arms and placed her hands on his hair-covered pecs. “What if I came back sometime?”

He gave her a sleepy smile. “I’d like that very much.”

“Me too.”

He finally shut off the clock and stretched; she had to avert her eyes, or staring at the way his trim muscles moved under his skin would make him even later. And the sooner she got home to her kid, the better.

Somehow, she managed to get dressed again, pointedly ignoring the heat of his fingers on her back as he zipped her outfit. (It was less easy for him to hide his arousal when she buttoned up his work shirt.)

The morning was chilly when they got back up on the deck and the sun was just starting to rise over the horizon; she shivered immediately. “Oh, bloody hell,” he cursed, then ran back below deck, returning with a blanket. “Here, love; I’d be a shameful host if I let you catch a cold. Do you need me to call you a cab?” he asked as he wrapped it around her shawl-like.

“No; I’m only a few blocks away,” she answered, pulling the blanket tight. It was soft and smelled like him. Hopefully, he didn’t want it back.

“Can I walk you home, then?”

“Won’t you be late?”

His reply was a shrug.

“Alright then.”

She started to head to the edge of the ship to disembark, but then he said, “Wait.” She turned to see what the holdup was and only saw the light of the flashbulb again.

“Seriously?” she laughed.

“Yes, completely,” he answered through his own chuckle.

“You’re such a nerd,” she tossed back, but god, was he adorable. If she wasn’t careful, she was probably going to fall in love with him.

But honestly, would that really be so bad?

------------------------

2020

The last photo was of the blonde woman in early morning light, wrapped in a blanket with a lazy smile on her face. It was obvious what they’d been up to, but that was a different kind of happy expression—more than just physical bliss.

“God, she was so beautiful,” Lucy breathed.

She always had been. “And she still is,” Henry added; Lucy hummed in agreement.

Reaching the end of the stack, they set the photos aside and kept browsing the records, pulling some out here and there as they caught their eyes. A bit later, armed with Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, Damn the Torpedoes, and A Night at the Opera, they headed upstairs with their prizes—Henry making sure to grab the stack of Polaroids.

“You’re done already?” Henry’s mom called out from the kitchen, where she and his dad (well, stepdad, but he’d raised him) were busying themselves.

“Yeah! We found some great stuff, Grandma!” Lucy shouted, running down the hall and promptly gushing over her new treasures.

His mom had been reading at the table, but she put down her magazine when Lucy barged in. Henry hung back for a moment, though.

The smile on her face was the same one in the photos, even if Emma’s hair was more gray than blonde now and she needed glasses. It was a little jarring, to be honest; growing up, he didn’t notice it as much, but looking at her as she was when he was a kid and comparing it to now made him realize just how much she’d changed in the last 40 years. But the grin she sent his way as Lucy babbled hadn’t at all.

“What have you got there, darling?” his dad interjected, stepping away from the stove to inspect the collection of albums. Killian, too, was all silver now, but for a man in his sixties, was in damn fine shape; Henry only hoped he’d look that good when he hit that age. The crows feet around Killian’s eyes had deepened with time (and laughter, and smiles), but they were still the same bright blue behind his bifocals and he still wore the same scruffy smirk.

Emma threw a concerned look Henry’s way, which told him he’d spent far too long staring. “Everything okay, kid?” she asked when he joined them.

“Yeah, yeah; it’s great. But uh, we found something else, too.”

“Oh yeah?”

He pulled the photos out of his jeans pocket and set them down on the table in front of his mom; Killian peered over her shoulder to inspect. They both hitched their breath at the same moment.

“Oh my god, I forgot about these!” Emma exclaimed as she picked them up.

“Same,” Killian said, almost breathlessly. “But I haven’t forgotten that night,” he quickly added, pressing a kiss to Emma’s temple.

“I’d be worried if you had,” she said. “This was our first date,” she explained to Henry and Lucy, “and someone here thought it’d be a good idea to steal a camera from the club we met at.”

“Pardon me, but you started it, love.”

Emma snorted and smacked his prosthetic hook where it rested on her shoulder, but a nostalgic kind of look came over both of them as they looked them over.

“Good find, Lucy,” Killian said, pulling his granddaughter close and kissing her cheek.

Emma set the photos aside and Killian went back to cooking dinner (which was delicious, as always). The flashback the photos had given him made Henry want to stay later and reminisce—on their wedding, on weekend trips on the Jolly Roger, on that one time he and his sisters tried (and failed) to throw a kegger in the backyard—but it was a school night and Lucy had homework.

He kept coming back to one thing, though, especially as they said their goodbyes and headed home: the way his dad looked at his mom in 1979 was the same way he did in 2020. Henry had always been happy that, despite their rough starts, his parents had managed to find each other; he couldn’t think of anyone more deserving of the kind of true love they had. And they made sure that their children knew and saw that same kind of love every day; if only everyone could be that lucky.

(Thankfully, Henry was; when he greeted Ella at home that night, he knew he still looked at her the way he first had in 1998, and she still smiled at him the same way she did that night from across that party. Henry had known then what true love looked like, and what it looked like now, and what it would look like in 20 years. And he couldn't wait.)

------------------------

After Henry and Lucy left and dinner was cleaned up, Emma got out the pictures they’d found again; hazy memories were coming back into sharp clarity in her mind (though some had never really dulled).

“You’ve got that look in your eyes, Swan. What are you thinking?” Killian said, taking a seat next to her on the sofa.

“Swan? Pretty sure I’ve been Jones for almost 40 years,” she teased, scooting into his side.

“Aye, but you’ll forever be my gorgeous Swan,” he answered, like he always did, his eyes also on the old photos. It was kind of amazing they were still in decent shape.

“Well then, I’m thinking that we looked damn hot,” Emma finally said.

“Indeed we did. Though you still do,” he added, kissing her cheek.

“So do you, silver fox. You still got that shirt?”

“That ugly thing? Heavens no.” He sounded genuinely offended—although he never quite learned how to fully button his shirt, and she cast a glance at the silvery chest hair exposed by his v-necked shirt today. “But I might be able to come up with something similar...if you still have that jumpsuit,” he said, leering seductively.

Emma just laughed. “It’s cute that you think I’d still fit into that after two more kids and a few decades. And that was Ruby’s anyways.” Some parts of her had never quite recovered from having Hope and then Alice in fairly quick succession, but it didn’t matter to Killian so she’d never minded much.

“Well, then I guess you’ll have to wear nothing,” he purred. “I seem to remember that being part of that night, too.”

“Only if you wear the same.”

“As you wish.”

(He had indeed read The Princess Bride, it turned out, and they had excitedly taken Henry to the movie when it was first released; their VHS copy was later worn down by the girls, once they were old enough.)

Some days, it was hard to believe they’d been together for over 40 years—time flies while having fun, and all that. There’d been great ones and hard ones and plenty of just average ones in there. They weren’t the same people they were when they met; hell, they weren’t even the same as when Alice moved out ten years ago.

But some things had never changed, and never would; for one, how easily and amazingly they were able to satisfy each other physically, and how well they fit together, especially when they were cuddled close, sated.

The most important, though, was their love.

------------------------

thanks for reading, friends!! tagging some peeps who might like this: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @xpumpkindumplingx @laschatzi @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @effulgentcolors @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes

#cs ff #cs january joy 2020 #csjj 2020 #cs smut #my ff

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babbushka · 5 years

Text

Beautiful, Beloved (1/8)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Kylo Ren x Reader

Word Count: 4400

Warnings: NSFW

Also available on AO3!

------------------------

You had met him three times in total.

The first had been an introduction. The second, a luncheon. The third was today, your wedding.

You never imagined being married, let alone married to a stranger.

Of course that was a silly thought to be had, because of course you would need to marry – but something about actually holding the title was a feeling you for some reason had never imagined.

Lady Ren. How thrilling, you thought with a smile.

There certainly were worse strangers to be married to, you thought.

Your smile turned to an expression of mild panic as you tightened your grip on your newly wedded husband’s arm, the car making a sharp left turn out of the blue. His gloved hand rested gently on your arm, gave it a reassuring pat.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Lord Ren, your newly wedded husband offered dryly.

The two of you were seated in the back of a brand-new automobile, a wedding present from your in-laws.

It was the new model of Rolls Royce, something called the silver ghost. Aptly named, for the sunlight glittered off the highly polished exterior and the engine was the softest you had heard yet.

The mechanic drove well, although you were still suspicious of the machinery. The clean streets of the city gave way to beautifully manicured parks and gardens as the world zipped past, making the journey from your wedding venue to the place you would call home forever.

You tore your eyes away from the blur of trees and pavement to Lord Ren, who was referring to the wedding no doubt.

It had gone off without a hitch, a beautiful afternoon ceremony as was fashionable for the day. Your dress remained crisp and clean the whole way through, and all the guests left well fed. It was a long wedding, but a pleasant one, the only tears that were shed were those of happiness.

“Yes, I think so too.” You nodded, holding on as the car made another turn.

“No one was punched, anyway.” Lord Ren muttered, seemingly under his breath.

“Punched?” You asked with eyebrows raised, amused.

“A fist-fight broke out at my parent’s wedding. My uncle had to step in and break it up; so I’d say we’re already doing better than them.” Lord Ren ran a hand through his hair, unusually long for societal standards.

You found that you liked that about him, his deviancy.

“May I ask who was fighting whom?” You hedged, not wanting to overstep.

“My father, and the man who had come to collect his debts.” Lord Ren replied, surprisingly unashamed.

“What a scandal!” You couldn’t help but laugh, “Who won?”

“My father did. I’m surprised you never read of it in the papers.” Lord Ren regarded you with something akin to warmth, tucked a stray hair underneath your veil from where the wind had pulled it free.

You lingered on the moment, already feeling yourself grow fond for this man. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a stranger for long.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much time for reading the news, my charity work keeps me busy.” You admitted.

You hoped that wouldn’t be an issue, your charity work. You took a great deal of pride in it, and had no intention of reigning in your efforts for the eradication of child labor, and the education of young lower class girls.

You had heard much about Lord Ren’s politics, and you knew him to be quite a charitable man as well, albeit one with a more…explosive reputation.

“Not too busy that I won’t see hide nor hair of you, I hope.” He surprised you with his gentleness, how reserved he was.

This did not look like the man who angrily drew his sword and held it to the throats of barons, who threw large tantrums and shattered antiques with ease when a letter came bearing bad news, who once choked a poor footman near-half to death -- as the stories went.

You had been afraid at first, when your parents announced the plans for you to marry such a man.

You were worried that he would be unkind towards you, or distant altogether. An heir and a spare, as they said. You had been assured that taking a lover was perfectly acceptable once the children had been born and the inheritance would have a viable heir to go to, but something in you spoke loudly, wanting to love the man you married. Everyone called you a romantic.

Everyone said there was no place for romance in marriage. You had intended to prove them wrong.

So when it was announced that Lord Kylo Ren was to be man, you suddenly grew unsure. He was a man with a reputation. People feared him, you did not want to fear him too.

Lord Ren looked intimidating, you had to admit, what with his entirely black ensemble and large scar that adorned his face. You understood how it could be so easy to fear him, this appearance combined with the personality that was so heavily gossiped about.

Perhaps it was this combination that he was working to counter-act; being ever so slightly more careful, as to not scare you.

The thought, however true or false it may be, made you warm.

“I should ask the same of you.” You said, as the automobile slowed.

Lord Ren smiled when you did not immediately remove your arm from his, content to leave it there as the grand entryway of the estate came into view.

“We’re here, ready to see your new home?” He asked you, and you nodded.

“Close your eyes.” He said, and you did, keeping them shut as you felt the engine putter underneath you.

Only a few moments later did Lord Ren carefully, ever so gently, remove your satin gloved hands from your face, giving you the hint to open your eyes.

The estate was, in a word, extravagant.

The land and gardens were a sight to behold, lush greenery that felt almost like a painting -- grass could certainly not be so green! But the house itself, was a sight to behold all on its own.

It was a beautiful shade of yellow, like that of freshly churned butter, or daffodils. It seemed to stretch on forever, at least three stories tall. There was even a circular tower near the front, you hoped it sported views of the pond just across, where swans leisurely floated atop crystal clear waters. You wondered if the estate had a rowboat, or if one could be purchased.

The automobile came to a halt just outside the grand courtyard, where the mechanic put the car in park. The entire staff was lined up outside to greet you and your husband, a footman hurried to open the door for you.

“Lord and Lady Ren, welcome home.” A man whom you assumed to be the butler greeted you, as the line of staff bowed or curtsied.

“Oh it’s gorgeous!” You replied, gratefully taking the butler’s hand and stepping down from the Rolls Royce, eager to stretch your legs after the nearly hour long journey from the city.

“Do you like it? I had it built especially for you, I tried to emulate the countryside with the landscaping.” Lord Ren joined you and stood by your side, careful not to step on your train or veil.

“Just for me?” You asked in return, eyes widening at the beauty and sheer newness of the house. It must have only just finished being constructed, there was no trace of dirt or wear on the yellow brick.

“Yes, I didn’t want you to feel like you had to conform to my estate.” Lord Ren replied.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re incredibly considerate?” You asked, a rhetorical question.

“No, they certainly haven’t.” He answered anyway.

You smiled, you were happy to be the first.

The inside of the house was just as magnificent as the outside, perhaps even more-so. Everything was so light, windows as tall as you were with open curtains allowed sunshine to pour into the rooms.

All the furniture was painted a light brown, with cream or ivory or golden upholstery to match the beautifully papered walls. Crystal chandeliers reflected light which bounced around the room through freshly polished mirrors, little rainbows dancing across the vases and various ornaments.

Portrait paintings hung on the walls in large ornate frames that reminded you very much of the Louvre. Pity the French couldn’t maintain their monarchy, you thought with the smallest of laughs.

“Can we go to the bedroom?” You asked, boldly.

Lord Ren quirked a smile, and nodded, leading you down a set of corridors and hallways.

The bedroom was small, and you liked that. Liked that it meant you could be closer to your husband, should you both be in the room at the same time.

The walls were a beautiful camel color, with decorative crown molding that ran the perimeter of the ceiling. They were papered in an ornate filigree style, and thoughtfully covered with old paintings. You wondered who the people in the paintings were, if they were relatives, or just purchased for their aesthetic value.

There were large windows and desks which faced them, a beautiful rug that must have come from Persia if the weaving was anything to go by, but most impressive of all was the bed.

It wasn’t a very wide bed, but that you didn’t mind. You envisioned many nights spent pressed against your husband, if he were amicable towards such a thing. You would soon find out, you supposed, as the sun was already beginning to dip below the rolling hills of the horizon.

The bed was a canopy, with thick golden curtains that were drawn – for the time being. You took a step towards them, ran your fingers over the fabric. It was velvet, with a pressed satin design which matched the wallpaper. It seemed as though Lord Ren had a very developed eye for decoration, you thought, letting your fingers run through the satin fringe that lined the curtains.

The sheets were the softest of cottons, pure white. You couldn’t wait to muss them.

Your husband stepped behind you, placed a hand on your waist. It was so large, warm. Even through the layers of your clothing you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Lord Ren – ” You started, turning around only to have him shake his head.

“Please, (Y/N), call me Kylo.” He interrupted softly, making you blush.

You didn’t know when the last time someone other than your parents called you by your first name was.

“Kylo,” You rectified, “Are you happy? With this arrangement, I mean.”

He looked at you for a little while, sun shining in his incredibly brown eyes. You wondered what he was thinking, what was going through his mind.

He carefully took one of your hands and placed the palm against his cheek, the one free of the scar. You furrowed your brow slightly, removed your hand, only to replace it with your other one. You cupped his other cheek, not minding in the slightest how the scar rippled and puckered the skin there.

“Yes, I daresay I am.” He said, his eyes searching yours. “Are you?”

“Yes, I am.” You nodded, sparing a glance down to his lips.

You hadn’t done much kissing, but you thought if ever there were a pair of lips to practice on, these were them. Kylo’s lips were so full, plush. They had a natural redness to them that made you wonder if he had spent his youth biting them to make them so pigmented.

Kylo’s own hand mirrored yours as he gently held your face and pressed his lips to yours. The first kiss outside of your wedding, and it was magical in its innocence.

It did not, however, remain innocent, as only mere moments passed before Kylo’s tongue was pressing against the seam of your lips, your mouth yielding to him, opening for him. You could feel your pulse quicken, and it suddenly seemed stifling, so hot in your dress. You wondered if Kylo was burning up as well.

“They’ll be waiting, won’t they?” Kylo said, breaking the kiss. He leaned his forehead against your own, and you nodded.

“Yes, they will. We’d do best to not disappoint them, wouldn’t you say?” You asked with the hint of a tease to your tone, licking your lips, already feeling the goosebumps down your arms.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Kylo quirked the smallest of smiles, ran his hands down your sides.

“I know we know very little of one another, but please know this: I won’t ever keep you in suspense.” You said, daring to press the words into the skin of his neck, leaving a kiss there before pulling away.

“Good, I don’t like to wait.” Kylo replied, heat in his eyes.

You grinned.

You had never seen such a sculpted body as your husbands, but you would have a chance to marvel once the heat of your clothing was removed from your own body.

Getting Kylo out of his clothes was a fast affair.

Getting you out of yours, however, was slightly more laborious.

You sweetened the deal with a kiss, the sliding of your tongue against his spurred his hands.

Wasn’t the wedding night supposed to be a passionate affair? How could anyone get away with such a thing when there required at least ten minutes of unlacing and unhooking?

He first began by unclasping your belt and deftly unbuttoning the front of your dress bodice, sliding that and the jacket off of your shoulders, the both of you watching as it fluttered gracefully to the floor.

The skirt, a light petticoat, and all your underclothes remained, and Kylo just had to take a break to kiss you.

“I’ll never understand why there are so many layers.” Kylo grumbled as he carefully removed your corset cover, making you laugh so much that his hands stilled in shock.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t stop,” You said in a fit of giggles, “It’s just, neither will I.” You smiled up at him, earning a smile back.

You let out a sigh of relief when the corset came off, Kylo carefully plucking the strings away. It was never too tight of course, the hysteria and trends of tight-lacing long gone, but still, there was something so refreshing about letting yourself loose after a long day.

Down to your chemise, drawers and stockings, Kylo took a step back, kneeling before you.

His eye contact was smoldering, as he lifted the chemise enough to snap off the garters that held the stockings up. He took care to unlace the tie holding up your drawers, letting the cotton fall to the floor.

Your cunt throbbed, the wetness between your legs slippery. Kylo was handsome, kneeling there in front of you, his bare chest and hard cock on display.

You liked that he was hard, liked that he wanted you, really wanted you.

“Let me see you?” He asked, and your hands shook with eager anticipation as you pulled the chemise over your head, letting it fall as well.

Finally, you removed the pins that held your hair up, let it fall down with everything else. This act, letting your hair down, felt like the most intimate thing you had ever done.

You were completely on display for him, nipples hardening against the fresh air, stomach tensed with a nervousness reserved for a first fuck such as this.

“You’re gorgeous.” He licked his lips, hands twitching, wanting to touch you. You wanted nothing more than just that.

You walked backwards to the bed, stopping only when the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

Kylo was on you in an instant, finally finally finally able to get his hands on your skin.

He kissed and kissed you, mouth hot and incessant, pressing against your lips, your throat, your shoulders. His hands, large as they were, spanned across your breasts with ease, and he gave them a strong squeeze, pinched at those nipples of yours that were begging for attention.

He laid you down, settled himself on top of you, your legs parting for him so easily. You couldn’t help but grin, feeling the thrill of the moment. Your stomach was doing flips, like how it would on an automobile driving too quickly. You never wanted him to pump the brakes.

“Kylo, please.” You whined, wanting to feel him already.

“Not yet, I’ve got to get you ready for me.” He kissed your face, bit at your jaw just the slightest amount. It wouldn’t do to have marks on your skin, at least where they could be seen.

You were grateful for the high collars of fashionable dress.

“But – ” You protested with a frown, you wanted to feel him, all of him, right down to that cock of his that was poking and prodding at your stomach as he kneaded your chest.

“You see this?” He sat back on his heels, dipping the mattress.

You were laid on your back by now, on top of the covers, lace pillows propping up your head.

He took his dick in his hand, stroked it. You nodded, you did see it, you saw all of it, your mouth watering from it.

You rose onto all fours, crawled to where he kneeled.

“I see it.” You swallowed.

He his lip and nodded, a hand guiding the back of your head forward, until you were close enough to lick a stripe up the shaft, making him take in a sharp breath.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Kylo said, pulling his cock away much to your disapproval, “I’ve got to prepare you, and fast, or I might just come all over these perfect tits of yours.”

“Would that be such a shame?” You asked, making him grin.

“Let me at least come in you first.” He reasoned, and you sighed dramatically, laying on your back theatrically.

From this view, you could see the blotches of flush blooming on his chest – and how muscular it was! You knew that the physique was undesirable for men of his status, but you couldn’t help but grow ever more wet for him, the way his abs flexed under his smooth skin.

The scar traveled down his face and shoulders onto his chest, shiny and white, long healed.

You didn’t give any more thought to it as his fingers wasted little time sliding between your legs, the tips just barely grazing your folds.

He looked to you, cock dripping and hanging heavy between his legs, and you nodded, wanting to hurry the process along, desperately wanting to feel how full this would make you.

His fingers were thick, and when he thrust them into your cunt you let out a long oh at the feeling.

“Relax for me.” He murmured, his hair falling into his face.

You dropped your hips, not realizing how tense you had made them just out of sheer desperation. He bent down to kiss you, a droplet of sweat landing on your cheek, as he took advantage of your calm and pushed those fingers into you some more.

“Please Kylo, I can’t take much more of this.” You begged, and he huffed, clearly wanting to spend more time than you did with his fingers up your cunt, but he gave you what you wanted as he pulled away.

“If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?” He asked, and you nodded, eager, so eager.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him lining himself up, the head of his cock parting your lips and sinking into you.

“Yes!” you gasped, head thrown back as he pulled you down the mattress by your hips, pulling you onto his cock.

“God damn,” Kylo breathed out, pushing his way into you further and further. “You’re so tight.”

“You’re so big!” You replied, making him laugh. You liked the sound of his laugh.

“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” He grinned up at you, eyes going glassy as his hips slowly started thrusting, trying to get deeper and deeper and deeper into you.

“Yeah, you did, come on give me more.” You encouraged, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his hips.

It felt so natural, so good, and you moaned, embarrassingly loud noises coming from your throat as he fucked you well and true.

His cock seemed to go on forever, and by the time he had managed to open you up all the way, slide his cock as deep into you as it could go, you were both panting from the exertion.

You held onto him, his shoulders, gripped at his back as he had to plant one of his feet on the floor to give himself the proper leverage to fuck you.

You latched your mouth to his neck, sucked and kissed there as you clenched around him, wanting to make this feel just as good for him as it did for you. You couldn’t believe how much the both of you were sweating, the noises that you were making.

Kylo was grunting like he was in pain, his face pinched up, mouth open. You kissed him, your hands groping his strong pectorals, pinching at his own nipples. You figured if it felt so good for you, it’d feel good for him too.

He let out a long low groan when you did that, reaching up to tweak one of yours playfully in return.

“Kylo!” You cried his name, and he did his best to fuck you and kiss you at the same time. “I’m going to – ”

He cut you off with a kiss. He was tall, you hadn’t realized how that might pose a problem; the poor man had to bend himself down just to reach your lips as his hips pistoned into you.

“Me too, just a minute longer.” He asked, and you nodded, tried your best.

His hips grew more and more erratic, his grip on your waist bruising. He was almost white-knuckled, fingers leaving a print when he pulled on away to reach down to your pussy, push between your folds and find your clit.

When he did, he rolled it between his fingers, making you shout out and come, your cunt clamping down around his cock, come gushing and making the most obscene of sounds. You felt like you were on top of the world, all of the nerves in your body alight with pleasure; you couldn’t stop crying out his name, a chant of Kylo spilling from your lips.

“Oh shit!” Kylo gasped as he ground his hips as far into you as they could go, bordering just shy of painful.

You had to wiggle and lift your hips to get a better angle, only allowing him to pump his come deeper into you. You could feel it, you swore you could, how hot it was, coursing through you.

Finally, it seemed like all the tension in his shoulders melted away, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you under his chest from his height.

“Was it good?” Kylo asked, panted.

“Yes,” You replied with a hazy smile, “I’m going to want this all the time.”

“We’ll make the family very happy then,” Kylo smiled back, “All the heirs we’re going to have.”

You just laughed, and despite his hardened exterior, he laughed too.

Kylo pulled out eventually, fascinated by the sight of his come slowly dripping out of you. He pushed it back in before wiping his hand on the sheets, making you smile.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, even as he rubbed his cheek on your breast, settled his face down there against your skin, nose prodding your softened nipple.

He got comfortable, and you gently brushed his hair out of your face, combed your fingers through it. It was silky and soft, albeit a little wet from sweat.

“No, I’m still stuffed from the dinner.” You replied, and he hummed.

Kylo wedged a hand under your back, holding you.

The sun had officially gone below the horizon, and night time had arrived. You didn’t think you had ever seen this many stars, through the great big windows just opposite the bed.

In the light of the moon, Kylo’s back shone with cooling sweat. You traced patterns across the skin there with the lightest of touches.

“You’re not like anything I thought you’d be.” You admitted with a yawn.

“And what was that?” He asked, voice muffled by your skin.

“When your name is spoken, people tend to recoil in fear. I find nothing frightening about you.” You combed through his hair, pushed it back away from his face and neck, exposing an ear.

It was big, just like the rest of him. You gave it a gentle squeeze, and he huffed, clearly self-conscious.

“Careful now, it’s only been one day.” He hummed, before snuffling and breathing in your scent. “I could get used to this.”

“You can have me whenever you’d like, provided just one thing.” You mused.

“What’s that?” He left his other hand lightly squeeze at your other breast, the one he wasn’t currently using as a pillow.

“I get to have you whenever I’d like.” You grinned, and his shoulders shook with a gentle laugh.

“I think I can manage that.” He nodded, kissing your sternum. “I imagine I’d like to have you all over our rooms on our honeymoon.”

The honeymoon!

“Would you believe I completely forgot we were going on such a trip?” You thought out loud, making him chuckle. He was exceptionally affectionate, you were coming to find. “Do you mind me asking where we’ll be going? I’d like to pack accordingly.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He replied, but you were having none of that.

“Please?” You tried, feeling quite victorious when he let out a resigned sigh.

“Have you heard of the Titanic?” He asked, lifting his head and regarding you with a smile.

You were stunned, not knowing what to expect, but certainly not expecting that.

A surprise indeed.

--------------------------

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! My apologies for it being so short, the future chapters to come will be much longer!

Tag list for some pals (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!) @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @imaginedreamwrite

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #historically accurate au #titanic au #my writing #beautiful beloved

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witharsenicsauce · 4 years

Text

Chosen Stories From the War #23: The Outrider’s Mission

(Content Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of violence/gore, and implied drug use)

With the help of Vahlen’s phone, it didn’t take long to get hold of Firebrand, who had been panicking about losing four of the most important recruits XCOM had ever had. Eventually, she managed to get close enough to one of the trees that they were able to make the climb up to her. The ones who couldn’t climb rode on the backs of the stronger, more nimble Chosen.

As they landed in the garage and the door slid open, the group stepped off the Skyranger, rubbing sore muscles and nursing minor wounds, but with a general cheer about them. Bradford was waiting for them, as per usual, but this time Senuna had also joined him.

“Welcome back, Menace 1-5.” Bradford said with a smile. “Your mission was a big success.”

“Was it now?” Verge raised a brow. “No one from the ship is with us. In fact, they are all presumably dead.”

“No, but you found the UFO.” Bradford said. “As far as the mission is concerned, that’s all we asked of you. Good job, people.”

Gur-Rai crossed his arms as he met Senuna’s eyes. “Well Commander, it’s an honor to see you out of bed before noon.”

Senuna smiled irritably. “Don’t make fun of me, Darkstrider. I wanted to see you all back myself.” She pushed past him and walked up to Dhar-Mon and Malinalli, her eyes softening. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Malinalli saluted, her eyes against the floor, and Dhar-Mon bowed. “I must apologize, Commander.” He said. “We were careless in allowing ourselves to become lost.”

“Oh nonsense!” Senuna reached up and put a hand on his massive shoulder. “You survived out there and kept each other safe. If anything, it was my fault. I didn’t expect the forest to have a dampening effect on our communications.” She looked to Malinalli. “And you, little one, fared wonderfully.”

“Thank you, Madam.” Malinalli seemed to blush. “I try my best, each time.”

“Commander.” Kon-Mai stepped forward. “I believe we may have something of interest to you.” She held out the old phone.

Senuna’s eyes immediately widened, signifying she recognized the old device. She gently took it from Kon-Mai’s grasp, as if she feared her touch would break it. She turned it on, and let loose a small whimper at the sight of the picture on the home screen. They could see tears welling in her turquoise eyes.

“Where did you find this?” She asked.

“On the crashed ship.” Gur-Rai said. “It looked recent.”

“That photo is of you.” Malinalli said. “And Vahlen…?”

Senuna grit her teeth. “ADVENT can’t have gotten to her before us.” She turned. “I will have Shen begin work on opening this immediately. It might give us more clues to her whereabouts.”

“We need Shen to hack it?”

“Moira changed her code every other month because she was paranoid.” Senuna shrugged. “Or to keep me from ordering food using her card…the point is, I don’t know what her code was, but Shen can probably get into it.”

“Well, Shen might need help.” Gur-Rai rubbed his hands together.

“She might.” Senuna smiled. “But it won’t be from you, Darkstrider.”

He raised a brow. “...Did I screw up already, Commander?”

“Oh no. You just have another mission coming up.” She giggled. “And this one is gonna be fun~”

A good night's sleep was what they all needed to process what they had learned in the forest, though their dreams did not offer any solace.

The Shrinemaiden dreamt of a child she couldn’t see, with eyes that looked like hers, following her through the forest, seemingly only visible when the sun rays hit just right.

The Darkstrider dreamed of guns in his palm and riding shotgun in a beat up old truck, laughing with a joy he had not known since he’d been human.

The Hieromonk dreamed of a murky river, upon which he floated on a raft. From bubbles under the water came distinct notes of saxophones, drums and violins, and a man’s voice singing, the sound of which made him sad. It was a relief when his alarm went off, and he was jolted from his slumber.

The sun was already up, painting the sky orange behind thick clouds. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing the knot of muscles that was his neck. No matter how he tried, he never seemed to be able to fully relax. How his sister did so was beyond him.

Dhar-Mon rose from bed, running a hand through his hair, which had been growing ever since he’d arrived on this ship. For some reason, now that he was out of the Elders’ embrace, it seemed to grow faster. It was down to his mid back now. He considered cutting it…

Then he felt where the screws and bolts used to be, the ones that tethered those heinous red contraptions to his skull. They were gone now, ripped out by the medical team so they could perform his brain surgery, after his “father” nearly killed him. All that was left were the deep, ugly scars.

He stood and went to the bathroom, stared briefly at the toilet he would never have to use, and then looked at himself in the mirror.

Ugly: that was the first word he thought of. Ugly. Before all this he could have looked in the mirror and insisted that the Elders blessed him with the visage of gods. Now his blue skin and red eyes only served to distance everyone else on this ship from him, reminding him he was not-

There was a knock on his door, and he quickly threw on his robe (the very soft, plushy pink one Kon-Mai had made him), and pressed his ear to the metal. “Who is there?”

“Just me!” Malinalli’s happy voice replied. “You okay?”

He opened the door, so eager to see her that he forgot about his state and, as such, was embarrassed by her giggle when she laid her eyes upon him.

“You look so cute!” She cooed.

He blushed, his blue skin turning deep violet. “I…was dressing and...well it would be rude to leave you out in the hallway.”

“I can wait if you want me to come ba-”

“No, no no.” He stepped to the side. “Come in.”

She followed him inside and, suddenly, it occurred to him just how much smaller she was than him, especially when she sat on the bed that was literally twice as long as she was. He was 8’2, and she was almost half his size, maybe 5’5 at most. Her small body did not hold much muscle, but instead was soft and cushioned, her face round and her arms and legs thicker than he had seen before, but then again his frame of reference included only his sister and, maybe, the Commander. Malinalli was certainly chubbier than both, but it seemed to give her an even, healthy glow. If anything, it was fetching.

She looked up at him, looking like she wanted to say something, and he raised a brow in her direction. “Yes?”

“Hey, so, I had a question, before we practiced today.” She swallowed, looking nervous.

“You may ask me anything.” He assured her, straightening up in an attempt to look regal...in his fluffy pink robe. Thankfully, the attempt seemed to work, because relief flooded her face, and she looked up confidently.

“Can I braid your hair?”

“I...beg your pardon?”

She suddenly looked away again. “Braid it, like mine. When I’m working, I braid it so it stays out of my eyes, and your hair is getting longer, so I was wondering...maybe you wanted…” She coughed. “It’s not a big deal, really, just...something interesting. I thought it might be fun to try.”

Dhar-Mon stared at her for a moment. His priests used to tend to his hair, combing out each and every knot, carefully anointing it with oils to maintain it’s sheen, but...they’d never styled it. Never braided it. And it was beginning to get out of hand…

“...Very well.” He muttered. “Would you prefer I sit?”

“Oh! Yes! Please.” She giggled, her face lighting up in a way that made him oh so happy.

“I am not happy.”

“I know.” Mox said to his seething wife as she paced around the armory. “Perhaps the Commander will reconsider.”

“The ‘Commander’ does nothing but play games with us like we’re dolls!” Elena hissed, checking her gun and reloading the bullets again. “One mission with Darkstrider was enough. One mission I could deal with. But he’s going to be in our home, Pratal!”

“I know.” He stood. “It is very angering.”

“It’s in Reaper territory!” She cried. “And he KILLED the Reapers! Hundreds of us! He killed Major Eli!”

“I know.” He just kept repeating. “I can talk with the Commander and ask her to reconsider.”

“She’ll just get angry at you.” Elena pressed her fingers to her temples. “I just...I wish he’d never joined! I wish I’d…” She pressed her face against Mox’s shoulder.

“...Was it not five years ago, you said the same about me?” Mox chuckled. “And ten years ago, you claimed to Volk you would never look a Skirmisher in the face without vomiting.” He planted a kiss on her ear. “And yet, you now wake up beside me every day.”

“Well one day I may vomit after waking up beside you, but it will be for a very different reason.” Elena chuckled. “You...you were different, Pratal. You are different.”

“Perhaps I am.” He said. “But neither of us knew such a thing, until you gave me a chance.”

“But I don’t want to give him a chance.” She whispered. “...I look at him and...I see…”

Mox’s eyes darted to the floor. Her words hurt his own heart just as much as it hurt hers.

“I know it’s been 10 years.” She whispered. “And I love you so much, and I wouldn’t trade my life with you for anything in the world but...I still see his face when I look at him, and it makes me so angry.”

“I know.” He said, pulling her ever closer, squeezing her tight around the waist. “If you cannot work with him, Elena, it is okay.”

“No, it’s not…” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I just...need to move past this.” She took a deep breath. “Tomko is dead. Gur-Rai is not-”

“Gur-Rai is not dead, thank you very much~” That infuriating voice piped up behind her as he waltzed into the armory. He was sucking on a lollipop and it was turning his black tongue slightly green.

“You’re here early.” She growled.

“I wanted to add a new scope to my Darklance.” He chuckled. “And sharpen my machete. She still needs a name, if you have any ideas.”

“No.” Elena grumbled, going back to polishing her gun.

Gur-Rai shrugged and walked past her. “Mox! It’s been years, quite literally! How nice to finally be on a mission together, just like old times!”

“The last time I was deployed with you I ended up with severe brain damage.” Mox said, raising a brow. “And you exploded one of the helicopters.”

“Yes, but because of that, you now have a better paying job and a beautiful wife.” Gur-Rai gestured to Elena. “So if anything, Mox, you should be thanking me~”

“Point at me again.” Elena hissed, aiming her gun at Gur-Rai. “I dare you.”

“Well, someone is touchy.” He winked at Mox. “Luckily, some men like that in a girl.”

“I will shoot you.” She hissed.

“Will you?” He smiled. “I suppose you’ve done it before. Still have the hip to prove it.” He walked off towards the scopes. “Let me know if you think of any good names for my blade!”

Elena wanted to scream.

Kon-Mai had never been good with machines. That was her brother’s territory. She had a much better time with organic things. Notably, humanoid things.

So why was she down here in Engineering, she asked herself as she peered over the counter at the many half-finished projects Shen had left out. Most were a tangle of exposed wires and cords, some plugged in and powered on, some effectively dark.

Including Vahlen’s cell phone.

Kon-Mai picked it up and pressed the power button. The screen came to life and, once again, she saw that picture on the very front, displayed proudly: the Commander in a short white skirt and casual blue sweater. Vahlen stood beside her in equally relaxed clothing, their arms linked like a chain. In their free hands, they each held an ice cream cone.

She puzzled over the picture. How long ago was it taken? Senuna looked relatively younger, perhaps in the eyes, but her face always looked incredibly youthful, and her short hair added to the aesthetic. Vahlen’s brown hair was long, pulled into wavy pigtails, and her green eyes were bright. Kon-Mai noticed the scientist was actually noticeably darker in skin tone than the Commander, and in fact she was also a bit taller. She definitely looked younger than in the WANTED posters.

“Whatcha doin?”

Kon-Mai jumped, dropping the phone as she whirled around and met with the smiling face of the Commander herself, who looked like she was giggling at Kon-Mai’s shock.

“I am so sorry.” Kon-Mai stammered, putting the phone back. “I simply...I wanted…”

“It’s okay.” Senuna assured her, picking the phone up and handing it back to her. “...You like that picture?”

“I just…” She struggled for the words. “That is Dr. Vahlen? In the picture?”

Senuna chuckled and sat down on a nearby stool. “Yes. I know, time took its toll on her a bit since that was taken.” She stared wistfully at the phone for a moment. “...Stars. She was so young back then.”

“How old were you both?” Kon-Mai leaned on the counter in absence of a stool of her own.

“Moira was twenty-two.” Senuna said. “She had just been accepted to a Masters program all the way in Southern Ireland. To celebrate we went on a road trip from Munich to Barcelona. That’s where we took that. Have you ever been to Barcelona, Konnie?”

Kon-Mai nodded. “Once, but never to the beaches.” She examined the crashing waves in the background. “The water is so blue…”

“You’ll never swim in a warmer ocean.” Senuna giggled.

“So you knew the doctor, before XCOM?” Kon-Mai asked. “How did you meet her?”

“College.” Senuna chirped. “I was getting bored of my current job; I was making and selling jewelry at the time, which was quaint, but I needed something new. So I went to Germany and applied to Ludwig Maxililian for another degree.”

“...Another?”

“Yes. This one was in Bioinformatics. To be honest I just chose it because the name was cool~”

Kon-Mai blinked. “...What is that?”

“It’s basically using computers to design software to map the human body and figure out how things tick.” She giggled. “And I’m REALLY good at staring at screens and noticing patterns. Moira was in my Intro to Gene Mapping class, and we sat next to each other in the lecture hall.” She smiled wistfully. “She was kinda shy back then. But I talked enough for the both of us.”

“I think that is true for anyone who speaks to you.” As soon as she said the words, Kon-Mai turned pink, putting a hand over her mouth to stop herself, but the words were out. “I am sorry, Commander.”

Senuna laughed. “No no, it’s the truth!” She winked. “I don’t mind looking at myself in the mirror. Well, after I put my makeup on, that is”

It always seemed to be dark in Reaper territory.

The Darkstrider shivered; not with fear but anticipation. The clouds covering the sky gave the air a green, glowing tint and made him oh so excited. He could hear his prey slithering in the cracked streets and between the buildings, the groan of distant Lost, the gentle clatter of Chryssalids…

Gur-Rai ran his fingers along Darkclaw. “Tonight is a good night.”

“Indeed.” Outrider muttered. Even she couldn’t argue with his excitement: it was present in all Reapers. They were all hunters. It was in their blood.

Mox, on the other hand, heard the sounds and seemed wary. “We must meet with the rendezvous soon.”

“Already here.”

The three turned around at the sound of the soft, scratchy voice. A young woman who was nearly as tall as the Darkstrider himself emerged from the shadows. It was hard to see in the darkness, but the coat she wore was of green snakeskin rather than the usual black leather the Reapers donned. She lowered her hood to reveal stark white hair, chopped haphazardly, and green eyes that pierced the darkness with their intensity.

“Cruzita.” Elena said. “Where is Lars?”

“Behind you.” From off the bridge, a short, slender man jumped into view, emerging from the darkness like a dolphin from the depths of Hell. He landed in a crouch, his gun already drawn. “There are many snakes out tonight.”

“Wonderful~” Cruzita smiled, her teeth as white as her hair. “I do so need a new coat.”

“First we weed out the Lost.” Outrider said. “Then we-”

“Pardon me, Elena, but I don’t think I’ve met your friends.” Gur-Rai chuckled. In reality, they did look semi-familiar, but that part of his memory was lost to him.

Cruzita stepped up to him, looking him up and down. Despite his own great height, she was nearly up to his chin, and the burning look in her eyes was beginning to make him nervous. She looked like a cat waiting for it’s prey to make a move before she pounced.

Then she put her hand out. He noticed her nails were blood red. “Cruzita de Vries.”

Putting on his best smile, Gur-Rai shook her hand in return. “Gur-Rai Madron.”

“I like your skin.” She said, her lip twitching. “It’s very smooth...and blue.” Her eye seemed to twitch as well. “I love the color.”

“Well, I thank you.” He chuckled, trying to hide the absolute terror he felt in the presence of this insane woman. He turned to the man. “And you?”

“Lars Velasco.” The man said in an accent that was not quite German and not quite French. He lifted his head to nod, and Gur-Rai could see the glint of glasses under his hood.

“Now if you’re done-” Outrider began.

“Hold on now, let’s all go around the circle and say one interesting thing about ourselves.” He laughed at the look Outrider gave him. “I’m kidding, Elena.” He hauled his gun off his back. “Where do we start?”

“There is a group of Lost over by the old tailor’s shop, that way.” Lars pointed behind her. “I saw a pod nearby. Mostly Vipers.”

“Wonderful.” Elena said. “We start there then.”

“And then we get the snakes.” Cruzita looked excited.

“Of course.” Finally, Outrider smiled. “None shall escape the Reapers’ sights today.”

Malinalli loved running her hands through Dhar-Mon’s hair. It was so fine and delicate, with strands like pure silk. The softness was incredible, almost enviable. Her own curls took at least an hour of maintenance if not more each day, and here he had just woken up looking flawless. She often tried not to dwell on her appearance, but...how was she worth anything to a being like him? Perfect, beautiful, and yet here he was, right in front of her.

As she worked, Dhar-Mon seemed to grow more and more relaxed than he had been when she first arrived. His stiff posture was beginning to unwind, and his robe slipped off one shoulder, and that was when she saw it. The skin under was splotchy, a mix of light blue skin and dark blue scar tissue, and Malinalli felt a pang in her chest. Not thinking, she reached out to touch it. He flinched, hissing.

“I’m sorry!” She gasped. “Does that hurt? I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He whimpered, and it was an obvious lie. He went to pull his robe back around him but...then he stopped.

Her fingers tingled, and she had to ask. “...Did the Elders do that?”

“...Usually they did not leave marks.” He let his robe drop more, until the entirety of his back was exposed. Instead of dark scars like on his shoulder, there were lines, soft criss-crossing ones, They seemed to glow like his veins did and if you blinked, you’d miss them. But as Malinalli reached out to touch them, she could feel the heat radiating off of them.

“Do they hurt?” She asked.

“One can grow accustomed to pain…” He muttered.

“Not this.” She sighed. “I’m a nurse. I can’t let these just sit.” She touched them again and her fingers prickled even more, as though her hands were falling asleep. “Wait right here.” She stood up. “I’m going to grab something.”

“Wait, Mali-” He called out to her. “Did I upset you?”

“No, not you.” She gave him her warmest smile. “I’m just gonna get something to help you feel better.”

“...Did the Elders upset you?”

“The Elders always upset me.” She spat. “Now moreso than usual.”

“And then there was one time…” Senuna pressed a hand to her face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we did this.”

“What happened?” Kon-Mai pressed her.

“Okay: we had just come back from a party where there was lots of beer, and we SHOULD NOT have been driving, both of us were pretty wasted. But since I handle my alcohol better, I was behind the wheel, and Moira was in the passenger seat.” She continued. “Well we’re driving, the road is completely clear, I’m going...I forget how fast, but probably too fast, and Mora decides to crawl out the window and car surf on the roof.”

Kon-Mai thought back to the Sectopod she had fought and shook on instinct. “That sounds terrifying. Why would she do something so dangerous?”

“It was college, she was young and we were both very stupid.” Senuna sighed. “So she’s on top of the car, and all of a sudden this REALLY sharp turn pops up. I hit the breaks as fast as possible; the car fucking spins, and I heard this loud ‘KA-THUNK’ as Moira topples off the roof and into the street.”

Kon-Mai gasped. “Was she alright?”

“She was fine, except for her knees.” Senuna chuckled. “It’s funny now but at the time, oh stars, it was so scary. She’d landed on her knees and basically tore the skin right off. Like, you could see bone, it was that bad.”

Kon-Mai put a hand on her mouth, and would have gagged if she had the ability. “What on Earth did you do?!”

“You’d think we’d have gone to the hospital.” Senuna shrugged. “Nope. We found a Drogeriemarkt and I wrapped up her knees in gauze and tape in the bathroom of the drug store.” Senuna sighed. “And that’s when I learned healthcare was not for me~”

Kon-Mai nodded dubiously. “...You two had such adventures together.”

“We did. She was…” Senuna stopped on that word, “was.” It seemed to drain the happiness from her eyes. “...She was my best friend. We made so many stupid decisions, but we kept each other safe.”

Kon-Mai smiled. “I know how comforting that is, Commander. And I’m happy you know as well.”

The darkness surrounded the Reapers like a warm blanket, and within its confines, they were safe. Gur-Rai especially cherished the warm embrace, like a mother’s hug. He could see everything from the shadows.

”Now remember. The Lost are drawn to explosions.” Outrider’s voice was scratchy in the comms. “No grenades or claymores yet.”

”Understood.” Mox said, the only one who didn’t seem enthralled by the darkness. He held his own, probably a side effect of being married to Elena, but he’d never be a Reaper, in love with the shadows themselves.

Gur-Rai took up a vantage point on top of an old warehouse and crouched down, looking through his sights. There were the Lost, and behind them, there was the old capsule of radioactive material, glowing green and smelling like sulfur. Being near it made his skin tingle, almost like the static that came with Psionic energy.

“I’m taking the first shot.” Cruzita said over comm.

”Affirmative.” Elena said. ”Lars, on overwatch.”

”Verstehe.”

There was a moment of silence broken only by the gentle moaning of the Lost. Then a bullet ripped through the darkness. Then another. Then another. Then another. Four lost fell dead in rapid succession, and the rest looked around in confusion as to where that had come from. A cackling laugh pierced the blanket of darkness around them. She might have been creepy, but at least Cruzita had the skills to pay the bills.

Mox came next. His gun was nowhere near as accurate as a sniper rifle, but he was still on the ground, within a few deadly feet of his target. He poked his head out from around a corner, and with everyone holding their breath, mowed down three more lost.

“You’re up, Elena.” Gur-Rai purred.

”For the last time. You will refer to me as OUTRIDER.” She snapped in a display of anger Gur-Rai rarely heard from her. ”And do NOT mock me, Darkstrider. I have fought more battles than you ever saw in your days with the Elders.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He chuckled. “I’m only trying to help.”

"You want to help? Do not speak to me unless I speak first.” He heard a gunshot, and three Lost dropped as the bullet cut through their skulls. “Are we clear?”

“...Yeah.” He muttered. “Crystal.”

They sat in silence for a bit, only speaking to pass the baton to one another each time it was their turn to shoot. Gur-Rai kept his mouth shut, his aim slightly off, missing more Lost than he hit. It bugged him. Outrider’s comments were stuck in his head, playing on repeat. Maybe he had been goofing off. Maybe he crossed some line he didn’t know was there. But why in the Void’s name was it always his fault?

As the number of Lost began to dwindle, he heard a hissing noise behind him and ceased his fire. “Outrider.” He hissed. “Something is behind you.”

Outrider didn’t answer, but he could hear her moving.

He repeated his statement. “There’s something on this roof. I’m going to relocate and I think you should too.”

“There’s nothing here, Darkstrider.” She snapped. “I’ve already swept the area.”

He wanted to believe her. But now, he could feel the slow creep of something slithering along the roof tiles. The hissing noise grew louder and he could hear it in Outrider’s comm too.

“Mox.” He leaned over the roof, trying to yell and whisper at the same time. “I need your help! Come get Elena!”

“What?!” Mox yelled up to him. He couldn’t hear him, and if Gur-Rai yelled, Elena was sure to kill him. With no other option, he sat in the darkness and put a hand on his machete, as the hissing came up behind him and rose, ready to strike.

Then Elena screamed. Something darted through the darkness towards him just as Gur-Rai whipped around, pulled his machete from his belt, and cut the encroaching Viper across the snout. It reeled back, blood spraying all over the Chosen man as it shook it’s head and hissed at him in pain and anger.

Instead of staying to fight, the Darkstrider took off to the other end of the roof, set up in a crouch, and aimed at the Viper that had recovered and was now careening toward him. He didn’t even have time to make a quip before he sloppily aimed and took the shot. The Viper fell dead, just as Mox’s ripjack pulled him onto the adjacent roof, where Elena was wrestling with her own Viper.

Lars was waiting, aiming with his rifle for a free shot, meanwhile Cruzita had dove to the ground and landed on the back of a third Viper that no one had even noticed. Black knife in her hand, she was riding it like a merry go round. Lars, instead, turned to that one and shot, but he aimed wide and missed.

Gur-Rai shot his grappling hook to the other roof and pulled himself over, just as the Viper bit down on Elena’s shoulder, drawing a huge amount of blood and venom. She staggered backward and fell, where Mox caught her and hauled her off to one side, ready to block the next strike with his own body.

Gur-Rai was going to make sure he didn’t have to.

Landing behind the snake, he took a shot with Darkclaw, cutting through the snake’s flap and drawing a trickle of blood. It whirled around and shrieked at him, and just as he was about to grab his blade, the snake lunged at his arm and sank it’s fangs into the metal plating of his armor. Normally that could stop bullets, but he could feel those fangs graze his skin. As he tried to pull back, they only dug deeper.

He fell backward, the snake still attached to him and now beginning to wrap around him, tail around his neck.

“You’re just like my ex.” He choked out. “She liked choking too.” He broke off as the tail squeezed his windpipe and cut off his air. He tried to reach around for his rife, but he was fucking laying on it so that wouldn’t work.

“Out, demon!” The rapid fire of a bullpup cut through the air, as well the snake that was holding Gur-Rai. The grip loosened just enough for him to wrench himself out of her grasp and grab Darklance off his back. As the bleeding Viper made one more lunge for him, he fired into her face. She fell back, bleeding and dead.

Before Gur-Rai could even say “thank fuck,” another hiss to his right set him off. He rolled to the side as another snake lashed out at him. “HOW MANY OF YOU ARE THERE?!”

“Too many!” Outrider cried. “We...we need to evacuate.”

“Bryni, we need a pick-” He gasped, scrambling back as the Viper went for him again. In his hurry to get away, he tripped and slammed headfirst into the pavement. He heard the clatter of his comm link falling out of his ear and hitting the ground, as the Viper teeth sank into the fleshy skin of the back of his knee.

He cried out and yanked, the teeth tearing his flesh as he broke free and, with sheer tenacity, reached out and pulled Darklance towards him. The Viper reared up, bearing down on him, and he let out a hiss of his own and pounded three bullets into her chest, her ribs exploding in blood and venom.

Despite the pain in his leg, Gur-Rai stood. “Outrider, what’s the plan?”

Outrider⁠—Elena⁠—looked green and her eyes were unfocused. Mox leaned down and helped her to her feet, and she kept most of her weight on him. “The venom, it’s…”

“I know.” He could already feel his leg tingling, and it was getting hard to breathe. “What’s the plan, Elena?”

She shook her head. To clear it? Maybe. But she didn’t say anything after. Mox was practically carrying her.

“Cruzita.” Mox called.

“Down here!” She called through the comm. Something was squelching in the background.

“How many more snakes do you suspect there are?”

“Probably two…” She paused. “Lars says three. I already have enough for a whole new wardrobe.”

“No, at least four.” Lars clarified. “I took down another one that was coming up behind me.”

“We must evacuate.” Mox said. “Elena needs medical attention.”

“I’m fi-” She broke off, her head lolling briefly. Mox caught her before she fell. “I’m okay…”

“You’re not.” Gur-Rai insisted. “And I’m not. And my comm is dead.”

“Firebrand is watching.” Mox said. “Do we have a flare?”

“I have a gun.” He said. “Not sure she’ll see it though.”

“Do we have antivenom?” Cruzita called from below.

Gur-Rai shook his head. “I probably should have thought to bring some.”

Mox growled, holding Elena close to him. “We must seek medical attention. Lars, Cruzita, begin scouring the area for supplies. Anything that can be used to slow poison.”

“I see planes on the horizon.” Lars said.

“No doubt they’re bringing in reinforcements.” Mox said. “We must retreat.”

Gur-Rai set up beside the two with his rifle poised. “Well then, get ready to shoot your way out of here.”

Malinalli caught a stray dribble of Aloe Vera as she slathered it on the remains of Dhar-Mon’s open wounds. He insisted they no longer hurt, but she could feel him relax as she did this. The unclenching of his muscles was noticeable.

“Has anyone ever tended to these?” She asked.

“...No.” He admitted.

“Not...not even the priests? Your own servants?”

“They were the Elders’ markings.” Dhar-Mon said, almost leaning back into her touch. “And thus, if they left scars, they were meant to remain untreated, reminders of my failure.”

Malinalli swallowed the lump in her throat. “...I’m so sorry…”

“Do not apologize, little phantom.” He smiled back at her. “Your presence makes me forget the pain.”

She blinked, then smiled at him. “I’m happy…” She said softly. “I’m happy you say that…”

He turned back around, and she laid her fingers in the crevice of one particularly deep scar, her finger tracing half-dead tissue. Running it down his back, she felt that prickling again. She closed her eyes, just working up the courage to keep going, keep looking at all this. It was so horrible.

When Malinalli opened her eyes, she gasped. “The cuts!”

Dhar-Mon cried out, not so much in pain, as in surprise. As Malinalli watched, the tips of her fingers glowed with the deep blue-green of her own psionic power. Around her hand, the skin began to shift, molding itself back together, enclosing the long exposed flesh. She dared not move as the largest gash finally fused back together, a faint line the only trace it was ever there.

“Oh my god…” She whispered. “...Tell me you felt that.”

“What was it?” Dhar-Mon asked. “I felt...tingling.”

“Your cut just...It just…” She covered her mouth. “It’s healed. It’s gone.”

“What?!” He jumped up, forgetting his robe had fallen off, and ran to the bathroom, turning to look at his back in the mirror. “...Nalla itzar…” He whispered. “Malinalli, you…” He looked at her, smiling widely with tears in his eyes.

She burst out laughing, her own face wet, and jumped up, running to him and throwing herself into his arms for a hug. “I healed you! I healed you!”

Dhar-Mon picked her up off the ground and squeezed her. “Thank you little phantom…” As his faculties returned to him, he quickly dropped her and grabbed a towel, wrapping it about his waist. “I-I am so sorry, I-”

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine!” She giggled. “We’ve seen each other naked before, it’s fine.” She wrapped her arm around and felt his back again. “How did I do that…?”

“You have an aura of healing.” He chuckled. “I do not know…perhaps your psionics are stronger than I once thought…”

“Psionics…” Malinalli began to look around. “Hey, do you have something sharp?”

“What do you need something sharp for?” He looked wary.

“Nevermind. Let me…” Malinalli rolled her sleeve up and bit down on her arm. She cried out a little bit as she drew blood, then held out her hand. “Try it, Dhar-Mon. Try and heal me.”

“Why would you do that?!”

“So I can test it! I have an idea! If it is psionics then you can do it too!” She nodded. “So give it a shot. Try and heal me.”

“What if I can’t?!”

“Then I’ll put a band-aid on it, I’m a nurse.” She took his hand and laced it with her own. “Just give it a try, Dhar-Mon.”

He sighed loudly and patted her arm. There it was, the tingling. “It will not work.”

“Yes it will.” She winked. “I know it~”

“Tomko…?”

Gur-Rai shook his head to clear the fog that was coming in. He could feel the venom in his veins, blurring his vision and leaving him sluggish and slow. His alien blood could synthesize it better. It probably wouldn’t kill him. Probably. Elena however…

He looked over at the sound of her voice. She lay back against the wall, her shoulder wound already beginning to ooze. Her eyes were clouded, pale grey in this cold orange light. Gur-Rai raised a brow and, reaching up, lowered his hood. “Elena…”

She blinked at him, slowly. “No.” She hissed. “You’re not him.”

“I know.” He put his hood back up. “I’m not trying to be.”

“I don’t want you back.” She spat, her voice shaking. “You’re not him, not anymore. And it’s too late.”

“I know Elena.” He growled. His whole body was burning and this was not helping.

“I hate you.” She said, and this time he heard her voice breaking. “I hate you because you took Tomko. You killed him. You killed him and took him away from me…”

Gur-Rai turned to look at her again. “How did I kill him, Elena?”

“You…” She searched her venom saturated mind for an answer that made sense. “You’re wearing his skin…”

“No. He’s wearing mine.” Gur-Rai hissed. “Tomko is the foundation I am built on. I WAS Tomko, Elena, you know it and so do I.”

That seemed to startle her, even scare her, and her eyes filled with tears. “...Why did you kill him…?”

“Because fate is a cruel bitch.” The Darkstrider snarled. “Maybe it was chance, wrong place, wrong time. Or maybe Tomko was always destined to end up in the tank, and from the moment he was born your love was doomed. But however it happened, it’s OVER, Elena. Tomko is dead; for the love of the stars, let him die with some FUCKING DIGNITY.”

Elena seemed to crumble at that, large hot tears streaming down her face. “I miss him…”

He turned away. “Yeah. I miss him too.”

“Darkstrider.” Mox hissed into his comm. “I have visual of the second pod.”

“Finally some good news.” Gur-Rai rubbed his eyes. If he’d had a stomach, he’d have felt like throwing up by now. Instead, he just felt like someone was rearranging his organs. “Elena is down for the count.”

The silence that followed conveyed Mox’s fear. “And you?”

“I can shoot.” He assured him. “Just...don’t expect heroics.”

“I will not expect much.” Mox assured him. “Lars and Cruzita, get into an overwatch position.”

“Yessir.” Cruzita sang. Gur-Rai saw her and Lars each get on either side of an awning, just as three Vipers and a Sectoid came marching down the street.

Only three? That seemed odd. Gur-Rai felt that prickling on his skin again. “Be careful, you two.”

“Careful?” Cruzita giggled. “Never heard of-” Her words morphed into a scream as the awning came down, sending them tumbling into the grasp of the Sectoid and two Vipers.

“Shitshitshitshit!” Gur-Rai fired off one shot blind and, off course, missed. But he did manage to draw the Sectoid’s attention, who turned and, upon seeing him, let out a screech that shook him to his core.

“MOX!” He screamed, reaching for Elena. “TIME TO RUN!”

“No…” Elena tried to wriggle out of his grip, obviously delirious. “No, not without Tomko…!”

“Tomko is dead!” Gur-Rai hissed.

“No, they took Tomko!” She screamed and pulled away. “I have to save him!”

“Elena!” Gur-Rai snapped. “You have a husband, remember?! A husband that ain’t Tomko! Even if he were alive-”

“I know that!” She screeched, her voice wavering as she tried to balance her rifle on her torn shoulder and aim for the Sectoid. “But he’s more!”

“More than WHAT?!” Gur-Rai yanked the gun away. “This isn’t the time to be star crossed lovers!”

“I let him go!” She cried. “It’s my fault he is gone! It’s my fault they took him! I can’t let him die again!” She tried to grab the gun, slipped and fell. Gur-Rai caught her arm and lowered her slowly, watching as she dissolved into tears.

“...It’s not your fault, Elena.” He whispered. He knelt down beside her, and looked into her eyes. “...I’m Tomko.”

Her unfocused gaze turned to him. “...Tomko…?” She smiled.

“Yep.” He smirked. “And I’m gonna hold off the Vipers for you. Your husband is coming, so go with him ok?”

Elena blinked. “...I’m married now…” She looked so happy, and yet so sad. “I didn’t wait for you…”

“I didn’t want you to…” He wasn’t sure if it was the venom that was making him dizzy, but he felt light headed. “Just go, Elena. You don’t have to save me.” He stood up. “I can do that myself.”

There were footsteps behind him, and Mox came running up, obviously out of breath. The second Elena saw him, her eyes lit up and she crawled to him, throwing her arms around his neck as he knelt down. “My love…” She whispered.

“I have made contact with Firebrand.” Mox panted. “She is en route. We must move to the rooftop of the building with the large “Staples” sign.”

“Gotcha.” Gur-Rai shifted, his leg nearly collapsing in on itself from the pain. He could feel his wound swelling but also knew if he took off his boot to look, he’d never get it back on again, so he hoped and prayed that the pressure applied somehow helped.

“I love you, Pratal…” Elena whimpered as Mox lifted her into his arms.

“And I love you Elena…” Mox hesitated. “Cruzita and Lars are in position.”

“Good.” Gur-Rai looked out over the dark streets. “I’ll cover you while you get Elena there.”

“Are you certain?”

“No.” He sighed. “But it’s the least I can do for dying.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing.”

“You have done so much, Commander.” Kon-Mai mused, watching as Senuna played with the accessible buttons on the phone. “And you have learned so much. An intelligent woman like you; why did you not strive for a doctorate as well?”

“Eh.” Senuna shrugged. “Maybe I would’ve, given more time. It just takes so long and...normal things don’t hold my interest for very long.” She chuckled.

“And yet, XCOM?” Kon-Mai raised a brow.

“You could say XCOM was a family business.” She giggled. “My father founded it, it was only natural I take over~”

“Your father…?” It was strange to hear that. “I’ve never heard you discuss your family before, Commander.”

“Well, he wasn’t my 'biological’ father: I was adopted, you see. But he raised me, taught me everything I know...everything Earth had to offer.” She leaned on her hand. “You know he was a Doctor, he would have loved for me to get a doctorate but...that just ain’t me.”

Kon-Mai wanted to ask who WAS the Commander then. Who was Senuna, the woman who sat before her? But it all felt so intrusive. It was all right there on the surface and yet, still it felt as though Kon-Mai was unintentionally twisting the knife in an already deep wound.

“How did you convince Dr. Vahlen to join XCOM?” She asked, trying to change the subject back to something light hearted.

“Oh, that was difficult. You know she was actually scared? Vahlen! Scared!” Senuna laughed. “It’s so funny to think...I think she was afraid to leave the family she’d built in Ireland. But things were starting to head south with her boyfriend, and she has a tendency to cut ties and run.” Senuna shrugged. “I convinced her to leave. It was hard for her to go, but she was happier here. And she was the best Chief Scientist we ever had before Tygan.”

Kon-Mai nodded, smiling whimsically. “You must miss her…”

“...Yeah.” Senuna sniffled. “Every day.” She went to stand up. “We should probably get going.”

“Going…?”

“If you want to greet your brother on his return.” Senuna chuckled. “Firebrand is coming back.”

“I had not realized!” Kon-Mai straightened up. “Will you lead, Commander?”

“I’ll poke my head in, since I’m already heading that way.” She turned to the door. “What about you?”

Kon-Mai looked puzzled. “Who are you…?”

“Not you.” Senuna winked and cupped her hands over her mouth. “Wanna join us, Jane?”

Kon-Mai looked at the empty doorway...no. Not empty. Something was there…a wisp of brown hair as the shadow pulled away. “Major Kelly?”

Slowly, Jane Kelly poked her head out from around the corner and stood at attention, completely silent.

“Were you listening the whole time?” Senuna laughed. “You could have joined us!”

“I apologize, Commander.” Was all Jane said. “I became...wrapped up in the stories.”

Senuna raised a brow. “...About Vahlen?”

“...Yes, Madam.”

“Hm. You would, huh?” She approached Jane slowly. “Don’t flinch, child, you’re not in trouble.”

Jane nodded, but Kon-Mai saw her face turning red.

“Konnie, go ahead without me.” She turned back to Kon-Mai. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Yes, Commander.” Kon-Mai bowed and pushed past the two. As she left, she heard Senuna whispering something to Jane, in a voice barely above silence.

“She’d be proud of you. You know that, right?”

Kon-Mai held her head high and went on her way.

Dhar-Mon watched in wonder as the wound on Malinalli’s arm began to shimmer, then the skin stretched and closed itself back together. At first a scar remained, then even that faded, until all that was left was a slight discolored patch that was barely visible.

Malinalli looked up in wonder. “...Dhar-Mon. This is…”

“This is magic.” He said. He had known psionics could do a lot: they could bend the will of even the strongest mind or tear apart space itself, but...heal? He had never known this cosmic energy to be able to regenerate.

“Think of all the lives we could save!” She grabbed his hands. “We could teach others! Start a whole clinic based on psionic healing! She giggled. “You and me!”

“You and me?” He hesitated. “And you would want me there?”

“Of course! I lo…” There she went again, stopping herself. Her dark skin turned almost red as she blushed. “You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine.” He smiled warmly. “My closest friend besides my siblings. I would trust you with my life, Molly.”

She pressed a hand to her cheek and beamed. “Thank you, Dhar-Mon, that’s all I ever want.” She straightened up. “We were supposed to go practice but-”

“Technically, we did.” He chuckled. “And we have developed something even greater because of it.”

“How about you get dressed then?” She giggled. “Your brother is coming back from his mission, we should show him our new trick.”

“He will undoubtedly need healing.” Dhar-Mon chuckled. “Let me dress myself, then I shall come along.”

“Mind if I wait in here? I won’t look.” She promised. She really wanted to look. But that would be weird.

“I suppose.” He chuckled. His hair was still in a braid. He decided to leave it.

The Darkstrider stepped off the Skyranger and into the arms of his sister, who was waiting for him. Her smile was worried, even more so when she saw Elena’s injuries. “What have you all done now?”

“Nothin’.” Gur-Rai muttered as he collapsed in her embrace. As soon as she had a good on him, his leg finally gave out, and damn near took the two of them to the ground together. Kon-Mai gave a yell of surprise that was mirrored by his brother’s voice, as Dhar-Mon and Malinalli entered the garage as well. Immediately, Kon-Mai called for the nurse, but he waved her aside.

“Outrider first.” He croaked. “Then me.”

“Outrider?!” Malinalli rushed onto the Skyranger. “Oh!”

Dhar-Mon knelt beside his brother. “He has been poisoned.”

“Viper venom. I’ll be fine.” He smiled. His teeth were chattering together and he couldn’t stop them.

“He’s burning up.” Kon-Mai snapped, laying her cool hands on his forehead. “We need antivenom. Get Tygan.”

“Wait, Sister…” Dhar-Mon held out his hand. “This...works for wounds. I do not know how it will work for poison…”

“What works?” She watched as Dhar-Mon lowered his hand over Gur-Rai.

“Where were you bitten?”

“Leg…” He coughed. “Left leg…”

“That one consistently gives you trouble…” Kon-Mai sighed.

Dhar-Mon picked up his leg and undid the Velcro on his armor, pulling down the legwarmer, then the boot. The wound was already inflamed and oozing, and the skin around it was beginning to turn black.

He pressed his bare palm to it, and within a moment, both Chosen felt the tingling of psionics. Gur-Rai reached up, grabbing Kon-Mai’s jacket and hissing with the discomfort this brought. Then, he suddenly relaxed.

The wound closed beneath Dhar-Mon’s touch. The swelling melted away, the regular blue pallor returning to Gur-Rai’s leg. Soon all that was left were two, fain bite marks.

Kon-Mai looked up at Dhar-Mon like he was made of gold. “How did you do this…?”

Dhar-Mon smiled. “Molly discovered it. I merely learned from her.” He stood up. “Molly! Do you need help?!”

“Her wounds are a lot worse!” Malinalli called. “But...I think I got her stable. Can someone get Tygan?”

“I will go!” Mox said. Then he stopped as Elena reached out and grabbed his arm. “I will not go!”

“I will.” Dhar-Mon stood. “He will want to hear about these...new talents of ours anyway.”

Back in the med bay, once again. This time, the lights were all off except for the one in Tygan’s little corner office. Gur-Rai bobbed his foot back and forth, side to side. It felt fine, but he was still running a fever from the venom, so Tygan had insisted on keeping him overnight, the absolute worrywort.

He looked over at Elena, in the bed beside him. She had been in much worse shape than him, having to get a blood transfusion due to the venom coursing through her. With that, and the antivenom they’d pumped her full of, she’d managed to pull through, but to be honest there had never been any doubt that she would make it. Mox was sitting beside her in an uncomfortable-looking chair, but he had drifted off and was snoring lightly.

“Hey.” Gur-Rai called quietly. “You awake?”

“Yes.” She said, turning to face him. “Unfortunately. “ Her entire arm was bandaged and wrapped in a sling, and her skin was pale. She had definitely taken the venom worse than he had.

There was a silence between the two, and Gur-Rai wanted to say something. “I’m sorry.” He said.

Elena growled. “Shut up.”

“Look, I’m try-” He began, but she cut him off.

“I’m the one who is sorry.” She hissed. “If I hadn’t...if I’d listened to you, this wouldn’t have happened and I wouldn’t be in hospice right now.” She sighed and laid her head on the pillow. “...I’ve been cruel to you this whole time.”

“Well, I’m sorry for dying on you.” He said. “That was pretty rude of me.”

Elena’s eyes went wide. “...Darkstrider, how much...do you remember?”

“About?”

“...About Tomko.” He could read her face. She had meant to say, “about me.”

He looked up at the ceiling. “I remember you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He raised a hand to his lips. “...We were a couple.”

“..Yes. We were.” She sounded so broken. “And I...I loved-” She covered her mouth, leaving the sentence to hang.

“I know.” He sighed. “You loved Tomko.”

“You're just like him.” She sobbed softly. “You talk just like him, you act like him, whenever I look at you…it’s like he’s back and…” Her voice was shaking but so silent, Gur-Rai had to strain to hear her. “I’m happy with Pratal, I love him so much, but I feel so cheated whenever I look at you, I look and think...you should be Tomko.”

He nodded. “You’re right.” He said. “I should be Tomko.” He turned on his side to face her. “What the Elders did...it was a fucking crime. And it can’t be forgiven or undone.” He looked her in the eye, his glowing irises cutting through the darkness. “But there’s no future for us, Elena. Not anymore.”

“I know.” She sniffled. “I’ll never regret marrying Pratal. Just...if they hadn’t taken you...do you think there was? Do you think…?” She let it hang.

He waited for a moment, breathing deeply. The silence was enough to destroy them both.Then he spoke.

“No.” He said. “Sorry, Elena...we were young. We were in a war. We were excited and...it all caught up to us.” He looked at her. “I loved you in the moment. And maybe Tomko always will. But we’d never have worked out.”

He heard her sob almost silently, and she turned away from him for a moment. And for a second he wondered if she was going to kill him. Wouldn’t that be a good way to die. He always knew it’d be at the hands of one of his lovers.

Then she looked up and, for once, her eyes were smiling. “That’s all I needed to hear.” She said.

“...It was?”

“Yes.” She said, turning toward Mox, who was still sleeping. “Tomko is gone now. We’re not…” She took his hand, and in his sleep Mox squeezed hers. “I’m not. And he’s not.”

“See? There you go.” Gur-Rai gestured to the still sleeping Mox. “You two were meant for each other.”

“I suppose we are. Fate does have a strange way of operating.”

“Kind of like us Reapers.” He chuckled, turning over so she couldn’t see his face.

He felt terrible for lying to her, for saying they had no future. For not telling her that, if Tomko had lived, he would have followed Elena through Hell and back. That Tomko would always love her, even in death. That he regretted not asking for her hand while he was alive...

But that was all in the past now. She was happy. And that was more than he’d ever wanted in this world.

The Sectoid that limped into the chamber, accompanied by two guards, immediately drew Vox Imdugud’s attention. He straightened his crippled back and floated over, looking down at the pathetic slave creature. “You have news for me of great importance.”

The Sectoid nodded, dropping to it’s knees. “Vox Zagre is alive.” The pulses from it’s mind were frantic and almost painful. “Please warn the others. The Chosen live, and they have betrayed us all.”

(The beginning of this chapter sees our gang returning from their previous mission and handing over Vahlen’s phone to Senuna, who sends it to Shen to be hacked. The next morning, Malinalli comes to visit Dhar-Mon and braid his hair, while Elena and Mox prepare for another mission with their former arch nemesis. Kon-Mai begins investigating the abandoned phone and, upon being found by Senuna, begins talking with the Commander about her past with Vahlen. The two met in college, and partook in many wild adventures before Vahlen went to South Ireland for a Masters program. On the Reaper’s mission, Gur-Rai meets two other Reapers, Cruzita de Vries and Lars Velasco, and Elena is obviously still holding a grudge against the Chosen, making it hard for the two to work together. Soon, they are ambushed by Vipers, leading to both Gur-Rai and Elena being wounded. On the subject of wounds, Malinalli finds old scars on Dhar-Mon’s back from his days with the Elders, and accidentally discovers that her psionics have the power to heal injuries. Still out in danger, Elena talks with Gur-Rai as though he were his human self, Tomko, and the two argue until they are extracted by Firebrand, leaving the last pod unkilled. Kon-Mai and Senuna leave to welcome Gur-Rai home, but Senuna is distracted by Jane Kelly, who was listening in on their conversation about Vahlen. Upon returning, Gur-Rai collapsed and Dhar-Mon uses his new psionic healing to treat his brother’s leg wound. Elena and Gur-Rai are transferred to the infirmary, where they talk about the past, and eventually come to an understanding.

Long one today, and I feel it was too brief in parts. But do let me know what you think!)

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