#Hartwell (he/him) {left}

[ghostdandyandco]

Soft and Tender (December 2021)

[jordanswwe]

you’re perfect

grayson waller x reader

summary: y/n and grayson are bestfriends, until it turns into something more. with a fight breaking out, a love confession arouses.

y/n and grayson have been bestfriends since grayson had been on survivor. they met through indi hartwell. it was a windy day and indi was having a celebration on winning one of the most prestigious titles on the independence scene. y/n finally arrived to the party and that’s when she saw him.

when y/n walked inside, grayson’s attention immediately went to her. she was the most beautiful human he’d ever seen. he decided to keep it cool though and not make it known.

“hello beautiful” he said to her. with his shoe in his hand. you had remembered that indi told you one of their friends were obsessed with doing shoeys.

“mind passing me one of your shoes, i would use mine but shit cost money” she said laughing.

grayson handed her his other shoe and laughed at what y/n just said. “i love your humor lad.”

grayson and y/n hung out the whole night. doing shoeys, talking, and exchanging numbers. indi saw all of this and she was very intrigued.

“we’ll i have to get going, but it was lovely getting to know you y/n” grayson said.

as soon as grayson left y/n was no bombarded by a curious indi hartwell. “omg, what was that” she asked excitingly. “just another hot man, but there’s something specifically special about him” y/n said laughing.

over the years the friendship that was going on between grayson and y/n only grew stronger by the day. then they reunited in wwe.

“hello stranger” grayson said approaching y/n.

“omg” y/n said excited as she jumped in grayson’s arms. “i can’t believe you’re finally here” she said.

you had knew that grayson made it into wwe, but due to covid, he has to wait for the travel ban to be lifted.

“i’ve missed you so much” he said continuing to hug his bestfriend.

— later that night —

grayson was having his first match and he wanted to completely show everyone what he was made of. as la knight was lying on the barricade behind the announce table grayson had the bright idea to try to make a long jump from the top rope. this being his first match, he missed and went flying into the second barricade behind la knight.

after the match grayson was rushed to the trainers room where he was met by y/n and indi. she seemed so worried about him and she looked so concerned for someone she cared about, someone she loved.

“what were you thinking” y/n said with a shaky voice. indi must’ve been able to read the room because she immediately left. “you could’ve gotten more hurt and it could’ve been more serious.” she added.

“you need to be more safe with what you do in the ring gray, if you would’ve gotten seriously hurt i don’t know what i would do.” y/n said.

grayson threw his ice pack, not at what y/n was saying, but at the fact he had a slip up in his debut match. “i don’t know why i’m here, i couldn’t even do that simple move that i’ve done plenty of times on the indies.”

“it’s okay, you’re still an amazing wrestler and you learn from your mistakes. you’ll get it next time.” y/n said.

“you don’t understand, slip ups don’t sit well with fans. they judge you on everything you do and slip ups lead to many hate comments.” grayson said fuming.

“why should it matter. you should know your worth gray, you’re one of a kind” she said.

“i don’t know why you’re trying to be so positive. tell me i suck for the mistakes i made in that match, tell me i suck because i almost got injured in my debut match.” grayson began to ramble on and on. as he kept saying negative things towards himself. y/n had heard enough.

“you know what gray. i literally love you so much that it physically hurts me. my stomach ties into knots whenever i’m around you and i can’t think of anything by you. whenever you’re around me i feel comfort. you’re my home.” y/n said practically on the verge of tears being bursted out like the floodgates. “you ask why i keep saying positive things about you, it’s because there’s nothing negative about you. you’re perfect grayson. i wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” y/n had loved grayson for so long and it upset her so much to see him so upset with himself.

grayson just sat there for a moment shocked at what y/n had just said. at what she basically just confessed “y/n, my love. you have no idea how long i’ve waited for you to say that y/n. i love you more than life itself. ever since i saw you years ago at indi’s party. i knew you were going to be something special in my life.” grayson said to her smiling with all his worries away.

grayson looked at y/n with pure emotions and he leaned in for a kiss. he was met with the lips of y/n. years of love, want, passion, and affection was put into this kiss. both of them had known all along that they were each others forever.

since then, grayson has became a human highlight reel and he didn’t care about anyone’s opinion about him. the only opinion he loved and appreciated was yours.

~~~~

i had to write a grayson waller post because he’s literally the hottest man on earth and he deserves way more of these.

[mysticstarlightduck]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕃𝕦𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕀𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨) - 𝔻𝕪𝕝𝕒𝕟 𝕄𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕙𝕒𝕟

Another character introduction post for What Lurks In The Hollow, this time for Dylan Millihan - Amy's brother.

If you like this, pls reblog! 💕

🎞️About/General Info🎞️

Amy's older brother, a very introverted and seriou 23-year old, Dylan was once a medical student, but after their grandmother died leaving them only debt, he had to dropout in order to take legal guardianship of Amy as they moved back to Vinethorn Grove. He resents their grandmother - Edith - greatly, both for the fact she was an absent figure in their life but because her gambling habits ruined his plans for the future. As of the start of the story, Dylan's especially withdrawn from anybody who isn't Amy, both due to the pressure of finding the jobs he needs to pay the bills and keep them afloat (while still paying their grandmother's debt) and because all that the small town of Vinethorn Grove has done since their arrival has been spreading harmful rumors and making his life even more complicated than it already was - especially after a local middle-aged woman, the 50-year-old Mrs Draycott, gets an unhealthy crush on him and, feeling spurned, sets off to destroy his life. When Amy and her newfound friends start investigating the town's bloody mysteries he is initially wary and against the idea of them digging into the Mayor's corrupt little secrets, but upon realizing that the teens would continue the investigation whether he liked it or not, Dylan decides to help them out in the search - if only to protect Amy, and begrudgingly, her friends.

🎞️ More Info 🎞️

Pronouns - He/Him Age - 23 Appearance - Tall and handsome, with long wavy hazel hair, which is styled in a way vaguely reminiscent of a mix of the 80s and early 2000s. He favors black button up shirts (and usually doesn't have the patience to button the last 3 to 4 buttons near the collar), simple dark denim jeans, black leather boots and a simple leather braid bracelet that he always wears. His usual expression is a tired scowl, both because he doesn't get nearly as much sleep as he should but also because he is the most introverted person in town and feels uncomfortable interacting with strangers.

Personality Types:

📸Enneagram: 8w9

📸MBTI: ISTJ

Occupation: Former Medical Student (had to drop out because of their grandmother's death + to take guardianship of Amy), now works 3 jobs - security guard at a lake resort, delivery driver and warehouse loader

Place of Birth: Vinethorn Grove (moved away to a big city when he was thirteen, after their parents died, moved back into town - now 23 - along with his younger sister, Amy)

Orientation: Straight

🎞️ Personal Life 🎞️

Family:

Amy Millihan - Younger Sister and Legal Ward

Status: Alive

Age: 16

Occupation: Student (currently on school break), Paranormal Investigator & Enthusiast

Relationship: Good, (but deep down he worries that he isn't good enough/thinks he is failing her and feels their relationship isn't the same as it was when they were kids and wrongfully thinks its his fault, which leads to him being withdrawn and a bit combative about his feelings)

Laura Millihan (neè Hartwell) & Jeremy Millihan - Parents

Status: Deceased (have been for a decade now) Ages: (Laura) 35 at the time of death, (Jeremy) 36 at the time of death; Occupations: (Laura) Civil Engineer & Interior Designer, (Jeremy) Veterinarian and Artist Cause of Death: Undisclosed Freak Accident Relationship: Good but short-lived

Edith Millihan - Paternal Grandmother, Former Guardian

Status: Deceased (recently) Age: 80 Occupation: Widow (inherited her husband's fortune - as he had been a wealthy businessman), Compulsive Gambler Cause of Death: Heart Attack Relationship: Bad (Edith was an absent and toxic grandmother and often left Dylan to raise Amy when the two were kids because the old woman used to spend the entire day at the casino + was strongly emotionally abusive to him growing up because he reminded her of her late son and she couldn't handle that. She also spent all their money - including both of the siblings' college funds - gambling, which Dylan greatly resents her for)

Best Friends/Allies:

Christine Nespor:

Status: Alive Age: 22 Occupation: Freelance Artist, Artisan/DIY-er, Former Wanderer, Aspiring Poet, works from home + works at a local craft store as well Relationship: Good - at first Dylan was wary of her, as he is of any strangers, and thought she was 'a lot'/overwhelming due to her extroverted nature, but as they got to know each other they became best friends and love interests.

🎞️ Likes & Dislikes 🎞️

Hobbies/Interests:

Watching horror movies with Amy - whenever he's not too tired or worried about something too pressing.

Driving around on his old Chevy, especially to clear his mind

Drinking coffee, especially espressos or cappucinnos. He drinks a lot of coffee, by the way, probably more than it would be healthy.

Being alone with his thoughts, just chilling out, preferably somewhere quiet where no strangers will come to bother him

Swimming in the lake

Shadowboxing, when he has the time

Reading medieval fantasy books, especially gritty ones, or detective thriller stories of the vintage kind

Playing puzzle games on his phone, while listening to folk pop

Additional Favorites (extra list here):

Music: Folk Pop, Indie/Alternative Pop

Person (his 'comfort people'): Mostly only Amy, but after he gets closer to Christine I'd say she becomes one of his favorite people as well.

Candy: Coffee Toffees or Mint Bubblegum

Place: 1. His room, 2. Their Lakehouse, (much later) 3. Christine's Treehouse Home

Fictional Creature: Cerberus, Dragons

Scent: Coffee, Shaving Cream and Dry Leaves

General Dislikes/Hates:

Mrs Draycott. For gods sake this woman is the human incarnation of the devil, she makes his life a living hell - both when she was "infatuated" with him (literally stalking him) and especially during her vengeful advances after he rejects her. She's the bane of his existence and there's few people he hates more.

Being unable to make ends meet or pay the bills, or especially, having to deal with the debt collectors that come knocking on his door.

People who try to scratch his Chevy or who almost bump into it with their own cars while being reckless.

Blackmail and people who try to use his insecurities against him.

Anything that puts Amy in danger or which makes him feel he has somehow failed her, that is his worst nightmare.

Memories of his grandmother - they always make him angry and upset, especially since her debt is a constant reminder of everything he couldn't achieve because of her and the dreams he had to leave behind.

Spending money trivially.

Being late to something important - both job wise and in his personal life.

Strangers who pry into his life and who make snide comments that aren't welcome - or worse, who judge them and tell him what he should 'do instead'. Nothing irks him out more.

Annoying noises/too much noises when he has a headache.

Having to handle too much at the same time when he's in a bad mood.

🎞️ Playlist: 🎞️

Fast Car- Luke Combs

I Need Some Sleep - Eels

Perfect - Hedley

Brother - NeedToBreathe, Gavin Degraw

People I Don't Like - UPSAHL

Ditmas - Mumford and Sons

Living On a Prayer - Bon Jovi

What Lurks In The Hollow Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @finickyfelix

@lyutenw, @elshells, @thelovelymachinery,

@bookwormclover, @an-indecisive-nerd, @the-letterbox-archives

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[peskellence]

Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed

Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort

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Summary: In the aftermath of Detroit's android revolution, Nines grapples with the complexities of his newfound deviancy. As he seeks to establish his place in a newly transformed society, his resolve is put to the ultimate test when he is paired with Detective Gavin Reed-a notoriously volatile human with a well-established hatred for androids-to investigate a series of murders.

While initial impressions of his partner seem to suggest his reputation is well-deserved, the more time Nines spends with him, the more he is forced to challenge his judgments. As they form an unexpected bond, the RK900 is also pushed to examine truths about himself he would much rather seek to forget. (A Retelling of 'More Than Our Parts' from the POV of Nines.)

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self, Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut

Word Count: 5.2K

Tag List (I forgot - sorry!) : @sweeteatercat @wedonthaveawhile @ladyj-pl @tentoriumcerebelli @negative-citadel

♡If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know♡

Nines sat at his workstation, methodically sifting through the findings from yesterday's case. He scrutinised each gruesome detail, hoping to discern anything that might have been overlooked. Sander's Team would need time to analyse the forensic samples, but he doubted this would amount to anything significant. 

The attack had been frustratingly contained, with the culprit leaving little trace of themself—save a deliberately constructed path of carnage. To avoid wasting time, Nines decided to utilise what limited information they had available to craft a more detailed suspect profile: 

> ACCESSING FILE 'HARTWELL SUSPECT.'

> COMMENCING PROCESS — CRIMINOLOGICAL ANALYSIS…

> PATH ESTABLISHED. 

> ASSAILANT POSED AS CLIENT — SUSPICION OF VICTIM NOT IMMEDIATELY TRIGGERED. 

[ REFER TO INTERNAL FILE 'jason_Hr400_personalorganiser'] 

> ALIAS' THOD GRAWS' — SINGLE INDIVIDUAL STATED — SCENE EVIDENCE INCONSISTENT WITH ADDITIONAL ACCOMPLICES. 

> SUFFICIENTLY STRONG TO LIFT AND MANEUVER MODEL HR400 ANDROID.

> ANTI-ANDROID RHETORIC EXPRESSED IN THE FORM OF VANDALISM — THIRIUM MESSAGE LEFT FOR DISCOVERY BY INVESTIGATIVE UNIT.

With consideration for all relevant details, an overview was starting to take shape—outlined in the expanding BIOS filling the scope of his optical field:

> HARTWELL SUSPECT PROFILE — UPDATE IN PROGRESS.

> ANALYTICAL HYPOTHESIS COMMENCED.

> GENERATING RESULTS…

> HUMAN MALE. 20 — 40 YRS.

[ MATCHES TYPICAL CLIENTELE PROFILE ]

> ABOVE AVERAGE PHYSICAL CAPABILITIES — LARGE OR MUSCULAR BUILD. 

> PRE-ESTABLISHED KNOWLEDGE OF ROBOTICS / CYBERNETICS — INCLUDING MECHANICS OF CYBERLIFE ANDROIDS. 

> PREDICTING MOTIVATION… 

The RK900 felt his neural functions stall temporarily as he decided on the trajectory of his ongoing analysis. Of course, the primary motivation seemed obvious. There was little room for interpretation left in the culprit's messages. 

However, there seemed to be a little more at play. A deeper lining prejudice, far more implicit than might have been initially apparent. He considered the killer's choice of language, as well as the positioning used when presenting the body for discovery…

> BASED ON RHETORICAL EVIDENCE LEFT AT THE SCENE :

> SUSPECTS HOLD STRONG ANTI-ANDROID SENTIMENTS.

> STANCE MAY BE INFLUENCED BY ESTABLISHED RELIGIOUS BELIEFS OR SIMILAR IDEOLOGIES.

> POSSIBLE DISILLUSIONMENT WITH CYBERLIFE AS A WIDER INSTITUTION? EVIDENCE INSUFFICIENT — TO BE DETERMINED. 

> HARTWELL SUSPECT PROFILE UPDATED.

Of course, the more detailed nuances of the killer's motivation were far from their primary concern right now. More pressing was the growing indication of prior offences—as if the same degree of care had been applied to their previous attacks, Nines could only wonder just how long they had been operating whilst evading detainment.

With the suspect profile at the forefront of his mind, Nines scanned his hand on the terminal and began cross-referencing the findings with recent DPD records of android-focused attacks. If any patterns could be established, which he suspected was likely, he at the very least hoped it would shed some light on their killer's operations, making catching up to them easier—

"—Shit!" 

Unsurprisingly, the urgency of this task appeared to have eluded his partner. 

With a survey of their shared workstation, he observed as the man fumbled callously with his third caffeinated beverage of the morning. A viscous glob of brown liquid dribbled down his chin as a reddened hand frantically swatted at his protruding tongue. It would appear the beverage had been hot, an observation only made after testing it with his mouth.

Even amidst the continuous bustle of the precinct, Reed's antics proved a prominent distraction. It might have been considered impressive, were it not so irritating.

"I sense that you are stressed, Detective," the android coolly remarked, averting his attention from the tragic display. "Perhaps a walk around the station may help to relieve some tension." 

In all honesty, concern for the man's well-being formed very little part of this suggestion. He simply hoped that the time it would take for him to walk around the building would prove sufficient for him to filter the pungent aromatic compounds jamming his olfactory processors. 

Regrettably, Reed proved less than receptive in granting him such relief. "Go fuck yourself."

Nines could only assume this rejection was made purely out of spite. The mantra he had been fighting to maintain up until this point, 'making the most' of his current situation, was becoming less of a persistent challenge and more of a statistical impossibility. 

His partner's presence grated on him like an unbearable itch, and it seemed to matter little if he chose to scratch or endure. Gavin Reed was an affliction that refused to be managed. 

Even after the coffee debacle, the android found his receptors barraged with multiple other nuisances. Constant physical and verbal tics—including the perpetual bounce of his leg, as well as frequent grumbled vulgarities. It inspired fantasies of reaching across the desk, robbing the man's ability to engage in such behaviours with targeted pressure to his neck. 

With considerable personal restraint, he managed to resist the urge. Unlike his partner, he wished to keep his records clear of extraneous assault charges. There was also no way of confirming what passive enjoyment Reed might garner from such a reaction—perhaps some twisted sense of pride or a masochistic thrill.

rA9 knew humans derived pleasure from the strangest of things. After all the material he had been unwittingly subjected to via the Hartwell victim's personal organiser, the android concluded he'd rather not delve into that particular aspect of his partner's psyche. 

After an extended period of scrolling on his phone, Reed's concentration moved reluctantly to his neglected terminal—albeit 'concentrating' could be considered a generous descriptor. Nothing about his actions demonstrated any degree of motivation beyond upholding a flimsy facade of appearing to be working. He lounged lazily in his chair, tapping his fingers in listless plods against his keyboard. 

With each monotonous clack, Nines could feel the weight of his complacency bearing heavily on his shoulders. Were he to delay the finalising of their reports any longer, the RK900 would simply be forced to—

"What is your name anyway?" Reed said suddenly. His eyes flitted towards the android, honed attentively whilst paradoxically devoid of any meaningful thought or engagement. "Don't think you ever bothered to tell me."

In contrast to the man's slackened jaw, Nines felt his own lock in exasperation. Rather than waste time on the question, he could have easily secured the desired information from the readily accessible staff records. Clearly, the process of opening a second tab on his computer proved far too mentally tasking. 

"My model number is sufficient," he responded, in a far greater show of agreeability than was deserved.

Despite this, the answer failed to satisfy his partner. He could not help but notice that Reed had proceeded to mimic his words, jutting his chin towards the ceiling as he flapped his lips in large, animated movements. It was a bizarre performance—for which Nines was uncertain who the intended audience had been. 

He prevented the pantomime from encroaching further into his optical field as he returned focus to the still-opened pathways pertaining to their case. The next logical step seemed to be comparing the Hartwell case to similar unsolved incidents. If any comparisons could be drawn, it may allow them to discern patterns in the killer's activities and determine an area of operation in which to focus their search.

With the criteria calibrated, the Hartwell documents were procedurally checked against the wider criminal database. A surreal kaleidoscope of shattered plastic, detached limbs and vibrant streaks of blue filled his vision—blinding him periodically. Their prevalence was alarming, as were the many parallels he was swiftly able to draw. 

It had become apparent that the killer hadn't just committed crimes against androids before, he was a seasoned professional. 

"When looking at the findings from the HR400 case, there are seven near-identical homicides that have occurred within a 10-mile radius." He directed his attention to Reed as the data faded from view, confining itself to his terminal monitor. "As well as fifteen further assault or harassment reports with notable similarities."

The man raised his brows at the revelation before his eyes rolled in a curt dismissal. "So what? Doesn't mean they're connected."

Nines felt his tested patience dwindle further as he was taken by an impulse to thump a head onto the table. Either his own or Reed's—he hadn't decided yet. Perhaps if he were to opt for the latter, it may inadvertently knock some sense into the thoroughly detestable man. 

"Our suspect works carefully not to incriminate themselves, leaving little to no DNA evidence." In hopes a visual may circumvent his partner's inability to employ basic reasoning, he turned his monitor in his direction. "They do, however, enjoy leaving calling cards for the police..." 

He descended through the contents of the page, watching as Reed's expression fell in line with the grotesque text and images. Reflections of synthetic gore shone ominously against his pupils, until they started to narrow, focusing on the images. No doubt some form of dormant reflex developed from his time of the force. An understanding that he ought to pay attention, even if he didn't want to. 

Hoping it might prove the catalyst for progress, Nines pressed a little further. "The handwriting is consistent across the crime scenes." He pointed his finger in line with a few of the killer's scrawlings, outlining the similarities in the gnarled letters.

"... That's all well and good, but the fuck are we supposed to do with a handwriting sample in 2039?" His tenuously held interest had already waned. Reed began picking at the corner of his mouse mat, rolling a ball of dislodged foam between his fingertips. "If that's all we have to work with, then we're royally screwed."

Nines slumped back in his seat, feeling entirely defeated. His grip tightened on the screen as he forcefully returned it to its original position. As his fingers burrowed into the flimsy chrome plating, it began to warp beneath his hold. By the time he realised what he had done, he was dismayed to discover that the action had left a series of prominent indents. 

"If you were to review the files yourself, perhaps you might find something of greater significance." 

There was a brief hush as Reed stilled completely. The ambient sounds of the precinct became the only noise shared between them—methodic typing and the mumbled chatter between co-workers. Then, a harsh demand cut through, like a final stone cast at the crumbling foundations of the android's composure.  

"Come again?"

If their short partnership had demonstrated anything, it was that Reed's contentious reputation was more than deserved. First impressions could be misleading, but in his partner's case, they had proved incredibly efficient in demonstrating the calibre of man he was.

Were Reed an android, he would have been deactivated long ago—the only consistency in his erraticism being his enduring cruelty and arrogance. No doubt this stemmed from some perceived dissatisfaction in his own personal or professional life, the fault for which was undoubtedly his.

"You have worked here for significantly longer than me, yet you seem to lack all the prerequisite skills to fulfil your duties." There was a stir of movement as the android detected a steady rise in the man's respiratory rate. "Perhaps this would explain why you are so consistently passed up for progression opportunities, not to mention promotion—"

There was a harsh strike against the desk, rattling its already unsteady foundations. Reed sat with his palms sprawled on the scuffed veneer surface, before he pushed against it, hauling himself to his feet. Leaving his chair, the man was practically foaming at the mouth with ill-concealed anger. His nostrils flared wide, and his head bucked forward, similar to an irate bull. 

"Where do you get off telling me how to do my job?"

Nines was more than happy to elaborate on the less-than-stellar overview he had constructed of Detective Reed. Perhaps it might provide the man with some valuable self insight, of which he clearly lacked any. 

"I am the most advanced model that CyberLife has ever created. I was programmed to assist in police investigations, with my performance continuously adjusted and monitored to uphold exceptionally high standards. I know incompetence when I see it."

Reed took immediate and hostile issue with the criticism. Even if Nines had not been able to detect the change in his vitals, the reflective tensing of his muscles—in particular the hostile curling of fingers against his palms—was more than telling of his intentions. 

"Is it in your damn programming to be such a prick all the time?"

"I am simply being honest."

The warning signs soon came to fruition, with almost comedic predictability. "They should have left you in the warehouse to rot, you fucking machine—"

As Reed's fist hurtled towards him, Nines intercepted it in a fluid motion. His hand closed around the man's wrist, applying pressure like the centralised force of a hydraulic press. He then pinned it firmly to the desk, preventing any further momentum. 

Clearly, the human had been spoiled by the restraint shown by his previous android targets. His rush of adrenaline seemed to taper instantly, as he took note of the wrenching hold riveting him in place. 

Nines observed with curiosity as signals of pain sent twitches through the human's muscles. His skin felt spongey and delicate, melding itself to his tightly wound fingers with remarkable ease. He could feel the beat of his pulse racing through the fleshy guard. A final, damning confirmation of just how fragile he truly was.  

"Let go of me, you piece of—!"

"You are fortunate that I am not willing to fight you," the android interrupted, his contemptuous tone laden with ice. "Had I been, your hand would be broken."

It was clear Reed had started to realise the gravity of his mistake as his scornful eyes widened in wake of the threat. The machine restraining him possessed more control over the situation than he could have ever comprehended. It could not be swayed by insults or threats, nor overpowered by any degree of force.

Despite his continued resistance, there was fear brimming in his gaze. It eclipsed all traces of zeal and bravado, as he realised just how easily Nines could have destroyed him in the pursuit of defending himself. 

"...Let go." 

To ensure the message was well received and that no further aggression was attempted, Nines leaned forward—positioning his mouth just above the shell of the man's ear. 

"Even if I were to let you hit me, is the fleeting satisfaction you would feel worth losing your career over? People are watching Detective Reed. I would consider your next move carefully."

His pride had been wounded, remnants leaking through the cracks of his narrowed eyes. He didn't want to stop fighting; that much was obvious, but even Reed—in all his irrationality—could recognise its futility. 

Once his body was completely still, and the beat of the pulse against his sensor pads had begun to slow, Nines decided to release him. The man yanked his arm back quickly as he pawed at the reddened imprints left on his wrist. 

Anger permeated his every syllable once he had regained the needed composure to speak. The words slicing the air like a guillotine, spurred by the cutting edge of his tongue. "If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I don't care what happens to me. I will fucking murder you."

It was clear how desperately the man wished for his threats to hold any weight. Nines, on the other hand, have never felt less intimidated in his life. He smoothly dismissed the notion, resisting the assured smirk threatening to curl his lips. "As we have just established, you couldn't hurt me even if you tried."

> INCOMING TRANSMISSION.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

I haven't heard from you in a while.

Is everything okay?

His encroaching smile vanished completely as a new irritation presented itself—formed in the sudden pop-up on his HUD. Naturally, RK800 would feel inclined to check in. He'd want to know how things were progressing with Nines and his new partner. 

As much as Nines appreciated the vigilance came from a place of concern, he couldn't help but find it a little intrusive. Like he was a small child, being kept under constant check by a protective older sibling. 

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

Everything is fine. 

I am currently discussing case findings with Detective Reed.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

Are you sure about that? 

Seems like quite a violent discussion.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87 >> RK800 #313 248 317 - 51

I have no idea what you are talking about. 

The situation is under control. You've no cause for concern.

RK800 #313 248 317 - 51 >> RK900 #313 248 317 - 87

Nines, I am standing by your desk. 

"Detective Reed, RK900." 

RK800 then spoke aloud, allowing the human to be privy to their ongoing interactions. Nines wished he hadn't bothered. 

As if Reed wasn't already in a foul enough mood, the introduction of a second android seemed to tip him over the edge. He looked ready to lash out again or, at the very least, attempt to, with RK800 his new target of focus. "What the fuck do you want, dipshit?"

A small step was made away from Nines and towards his predecessor, to which the former was immediately on guard. It was clear the man had learnt nothing from their recent exchange, the exercise in synthetic superiority unable to pierce his long-standing fog of prejudice. 

That being said, should the man attempt to lay hands on RK800, Nines would resolve to make sure the lesson was learned—in spite of any concerns regarding his behavioural record.

RK800 glanced at the younger android before subtly shaking his head, an assurance he had things under control. He then focused his attention on Reed, tracking his movements with a cranial tilt as a polite smile spread on his lips.

"I understand that you've been assigned to investigate the murder of a former Traci. I was wondering what you'd learnt so far."

"What's it to ya?" the man spat back, his growing disdain more than apparent in the unsightly wrinkle of his nose. "Don't you and Anderson have your own cases you need to work on?"

"We do…but I will admit I have taken an interest in this particular crime." 

RK800 paused, his LED flickering yellow as he deliberated on his ongoing approach. Then his dark eyes began to soften, the product of a manipulation protocol Nines was certain had served him well in many previous interactions. 

"I understand that it shares similarities with other recent attacks?" His voice was smooth and honeyed as he continued to speak, tinged with an endearing curiosity. 

It seemed Reed was entirely immune to its appeal. He crossed his arms, as his lips pulled shut in a tightly pinched grimace. A firm indication that he would not be sharing any information with the android, regardless of how personable his approach may be.

Before RK800 had a chance to start batting his eyelashes, Nines spared them all the performance by firmly stepping forward, positioning himself between the detective and his predecessor.

"Several." He then retracted the skin of his palm, holding it upright as a silent indication of his intended exchange method. While RK800 eventually complied, he did so with an uncertain glance at the man beside them. 

Their palms met, and the precinct was gone—disappearing from sight

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (3)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,631

Link to Chapter 1 Chapter 2

on Ao3

Can't you feel Electricity It's dripping through my veins The syzygy It's twisting me endlessly, endlessly

Like you don't know what they said a couple of nights ago But you didn't hear that one

Galeb was ravenous. Although his skin colour had faded to grey the moment he had walked the secretary back inside the club, the whole act had pushed him to his limits.

As he looked at the woman seated next to him, it hit him suddenly. He felt it in his whole being. It was his Ventrue nature that was making him so tense around her, giving him these visceral reactions. He craved her blood; the purity, the class. And the fact that he could not have it only intensified his desire.

“The usual?” Emem asked with a cocky grin as she stepped closer to them.

“Yes. And a gin and tonic for her.” he answered.

As Emem was about to turn around, Galeb rose from his seat.

“I must excuse myself, Cyrene.” he said, “I will be back momentarily.”

Emem turned back towards Galeb, he overcame the distance between them.

“I need a real drink” he spoke through clenched teeth. Drained of vitae, the beast in him had become far too impatient.

“Did you not eat before coming here?”

“I did” he hissed, “I didn’t think it would take that much convincing.”

“Well I don’t have anything for you. Go and serve yourself.” Emem hissed back. “Be careful with what you pick though.”

Without another word he disappeared into the darker corners of the club. His mind was racing, consumed by the desire for only one thing. But it could not just be anyone and he had to be careful it was not a ghoul. So he lurked in the dark, watched the prey and fellow predators. His gaze wandered back and forth between people, then fell back onto Cyrene. Her blood was perfect, truly, but he could not risk it. A soft growl escaped him. His trained senses made him aware of a human not bound to anyone. A man in a business suit -- dark brown hair, swept back, an expensive silver brand watch around his wrist, the old money kind not the electronic touchscreen trash -- walked towards the restrooms. Galeb followed him at once.

A deep sigh of relief escaped him as he regained his composure and left the stall with the man behind. He centered himself as he adjusted the collar of his shirt in the washroom, making sure his clothes had not been soiled during this moment of weakness. A quick glance reassured him of the fact that the bathroom stall doors were closed and the Kindred walked off.

“I made a bit of a mess in the men’s washroom” he confessed discreetly once he had arrived back at the bar.

“Ugh” Emem rolled her eyes, “Seriously?”

“He’s alive.” he reassured her firmly, “Just some stains on the floor.”

“I’ll have someone get it.” she sighed and shook her head in disapproval.

Galeb noticed their drinks that had been served as he lowered himself onto the bar seat next to his new acquaintance.

“I’m so sorry I made you wait.” he spoke softly.

“Oh don’t worry about that at all.” Cyrene replied with a smile towards him, her demeanour friendly, less suspicious. Now it seemed like a perfectly normal thing that this man wanted to get to know her.

“I’ve been thinking” Galeb spoke, “We should spend more time with each other until you feel comfortable with me. And then you could introduce me to Mr. Hartwell.”

Cyrene set down her glass that she drank from.

“I would like that. I think that might work.” she answered. Galeb could feel that she was honest, even less careful than before. His dominance over her mind was still apparent.

“You think?” Galeb checked. “You’re not sure?”

“I don’t know. I will have to make sure he doesn’t feel suspicious about anything that you do.” she answered.

“Maybe it’s better you manage our assets. Inofficially at least.” the Kindred suggested.

“Oh I can’t do that” she laughed casually, “I’m not in that position.”

“You give yourself far too little credit, Cyrene.” Galeb spoke, his influence over her strong.

“Maybe.” she chuckled, “But I can’t be doing anything like that behind his back.”

“Do you have access to his clients’ files?”

“I do.” she responded, “In case of emergencies. Or an urgent meeting that he doesn’t agree to.”

“What about confidentiality? How much trust does he have in you?"

"A lot. I don’t want to betray him. I wouldn’t-- I can’t--” There was a certain agitation in her voice, like her own will that struggled against Galeb’s influence.

“It’s okay” he calmed her with a soft voice, his eyes flashing just for a second. “You’re safe. You are not betraying Hartwell. Everything is alright.”

She visibly calmed again, her breathing and heartbeat normalizing. The Kindred watched her fingers wrap around the glass and drink from it again. He leaned over, his body turned towards her.

“Where does he live?”

Slowly her gaze was drawn from her glass towards Galeb. A smile formed on his lips before she could even answer.

“Where do you live?”

With his head lowered Galeb returned to Hazel’s quarters.

“What is it? You don’t look like you have good news for me.” Hazel spoke, behind her was the moon shining in through the tall windows, the light being reflected on the sleek surface of her desk.

Galeb sighed, shaking his head before speaking.

“It’s not the best news. Hartwell has turned into a recluse. He doesn’t take any new clients it seems. And the secretary,  Roberts, she is very careful. I think I can gain her trust but it will take some time.”

“Unfortunate news” Hazel spoke and turned around towards the windows, her arms crossed in front of her chest, her gaze lowered. “Is that all?”

“My Prince, forgive me the suggestion, but would it not be easier to find someone else?”

“No. I want Hartwell” she insisted, “All others out there are not malleable enough. I’ve seen the prospects.”

“This will not be easy.” Galeb suggested.

“But once we have him, he is ours. We can use his paranoia against him.” Hazel explained, turning around again.

“What if we use just the secretary? She does most of his business for him these days anyway.”

“But in his name, right?”

Galeb tilted his head, watching her as she paused.

“So it will be him either way. If she has access to everything, I’m not against it.” Hazel explained, her hand outstretched in a presenting fashion, “But remember, she can’t be influenced if she is the one working with us. And Emem told me you already forced your will onto her.”

“Of course she did.” Galeb sighed and looked down for a moment.

“Her bodyguard was at her heels and she was extremely cautious. I could not let her go just like that.”

“Galeb, I’m not mad at you.” Hazel reassured gently, shaking her head. “I just want to make sure you know that going any further than that will be out of the question. Especially if you choose her as the one to work with us.”

“We will never get our hands on Hartwell.”

“You don’t know that” Hazel disagreed with her voice a tone higher, trying to persuade him. “Maybe we just have to be careful and watch Roberts and Walker for a while. Why don’t you become friends with them?”

Galeb coughed up a laugh.

“You say that like it’s so easy.”

“You’ve done it before.” Hazel reminded him. “Just go slow.”

The pressure of her gaze made the man look away.

“Have you set up another appointment with her?”

“I have. I was worried she would not let me meet her again if she wasn’t under the influence of my power.” Galeb confessed.

“Smart move. I am sure you will be able to make her trust you and then in no time, she will be introducing you to Hartwell, you will see. Or, she will the one handling our finances. Your choice.”

“Would you at least consider giving this task to somebody else? Anyone else, in fact. Emem Louis could do this easily with her connections to the--”

“No” Hazel responded firmly. “It has to be you. Emem doesn’t even come close to you in strength. You can protect these people if anything happens. Don’t you think they will be swarmed with ghouls and other agents soon enough? You can sense them. You’re the only one I can rely on for this task.”

Galeb sighed in defeat.

“I hadn’t considered that.”

“I know it’s hard for you. She’s probably all a Ventrue like you could want in a vessel.” Hazel chuckled. Galeb’s eyes widened.

“It’s not-- it’s not that. That’s not a problem at all.”

“Oh come on now. Don’t be shy about this. We’re birds of a feather, you and me.” she reaffirmed with a smile. “Go downstairs to the lounge and have a drink. Ask Sylvia for what I had them prepare for you. It will relax you. I know your type.”

Galeb stood in shock, at a loss for words but finally spoke, unable to decline.

“Thank you, my Prince.”

“And then focus. We need these people.”

“Of course, my Prince.”

The following night a black car with tinted windows was parked in front a high-rise apartment complex at 10:30 pm. The front doors of the building opened and Cyrene walked out into the night. Her steps brought her to the car, she overlooked the license plate quickly before she opened the back door from the side of the pedestrian walkway. She climbed in, greeting the man that was sitting inside with a smile.

[sisterspooky1013]

What Desire Will Make Foolish People Do, 2/3

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

He parks in the space right in front of her door and waits for her to storm off. She doesn’t get out of the car right away, just sits there with her hands folded in her lap.

“He’s gone, if you were wondering,” she says quietly, and the pain in her voice makes him wish she’d get angry again.

“I wasn’t,” he lies.

She pulls in a deep breath and sighs, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to say.

“Scully, I don’t think—”

“You made it perfectly clear what you think, Mulder,” she says without affect. “I’m sure you regret saying it, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. I’ll be ready by 8:45 tomorrow. Goodnight.”

She gets out of the car and enters her room without looking back, and the pit that’s been sitting in his belly all evening twists painfully. He sits there for upwards of twenty minutes, waiting for her to come back or turn out the lights in her room. Waiting for her to open the door and shoot him. Anything but silence. Anything but losing her entirely. Finally, he goes into his own room.

He’s seen Scully flirt before, both the pandering kind of flirting that can help grease the wheels with uncooperative law enforcement and the genuine kind he bore witness to with Sheriff Hartwell. He’s even known Scully to flirt with him now and then, but always just for fun. Even on occasions when her friendly flirtations elicited a response in him, he long ago trained himself to ignore it. There are some lines you just don’t cross, and Scully is and always has been one of them.

Now, as he slumps onto his shitty motel mattress, he has to ask himself if he missed the point at which friendly flirtation became something else. Even wracking his brain, he just can’t see it. He does remember her coming to his room in Florida with wine and cheese, cracking a joke about agents consorting in the same motel room. To his recollection, he made a fart joke in response. And much later, when he facetiously suggested that they get into a sleeping bag naked together to warm up, she made a joke back about him getting lucky. She said she threw herself at him. Is she exceptionally subtle, or is he exceptionally dense? Perhaps it’s a fatal combination of both.

For him to read anything Scully says or does as flirtatious or indicating sexual interest, he would first have to believe that there is a snowball’s chance in hell that she would ever see him as a potential romantic partner. While he does believe she cares for him, and maybe even finds him attractive, she’s too smart to stoop that low. At least he thought so.

The revelation that she’s interested in him should be a happy one, but it came on the tails of him essentially calling her a slut. He said things to her that no man should ever say to a woman, even if they were true—which they aren’t. She may have hurt him by accident, but he hurt her on purpose. He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he’d fucked up, but with each passing moment the weight of his mistake sinks in further, and he can hardly breathe.

He knocks on her door for the second time tonight, but this time it’s a gentle rap with his knuckles instead of an insistent pounding. He can see that the lights are on, and he has the keys to the rental—which is still parked a few feet away—so she can’t have gone anywhere, but when she still hasn’t answered after three rounds of knocking he goes back to his room.

He picks up the phone on the bedside table and dials her room number. He hears her phone ringing through the wall, and when the line clicks open his heart leaps.

“Scully—”

He hears her slam it back down on the receiver, both from the other side of the wall and loudly against his ear. At least he knows she’s in there. He walks to an undecorated expanse of wall, the same place he’d stood earlier with his ear pressed against the peeling wallpaper so he could eavesdrop on her, and thunks his forehead against it in frustration. He’s not frustrated with her; he knows this is his fault from inception to disastrous conclusion. He holds his lips close to the wall and raises his voice.

“I know you can hear me, Scully,” he says. She offers no response. “You have every right to be mad, and if you never forgive me I’ll understand.” More silence. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, I was just…I was jealous, and hurt, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He waits, and waits, and waits. Nothing. “Scully…” He lays his palm flat against the wall by his head, hoping that he can somehow transmit his sincerity through it. “I realize I’ve probably blown any chance I had at it being something more, but I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t at least have you as a friend. Please, talk to me.”

There’s some shuffling on the other side of the wall. The scuff of shoes on carpet, the tink of metal on metal. Her door opens and closes, and he wheels around to face his own, so much hope in his heart it makes him nauseous. Her knock is clipped, somehow impersonal, and when he flings the door open her eyes are already pinned to the floor at his feet. She’s still wearing the same clothes from earlier, and while she’s diligently avoiding looking at him, he can see that her eyes are red-rimmed and peppered with flaked mascara.

“May I have the car keys, please?” she asks, emotionless.

“Where are you going?” he asks after a beat.

She sighs.

“I need a drink, Mulder,” she says curtly. “I’m sure you can appreciate why.”

“I’ll go with you,” he says, and she snaps her head up to give level him with an incredulous glare.

“No thank you,” she says, her voice dripping with derision.

Mulder’s shoulders slump and he huffs in frustration like a petulant teen.

“Come on, Scully, you have to talk to me eventually—”

She holds up her hand to silence him.

“Eventually, yes,” she says sternly. “Not now. Maybe not even tomorrow. Please, give me the car keys.”

He walks away from the door and grabs the keys off one of the bedside tables, holding them tightly in his balled fist. When he returns, Scully already has her hand held out ready to receive them.

“Scully, I’m sorry—”

“The keys, Mulder.”

“Jesus, can you at least let me finish apologizing?” he asks, too angrily.

Scully purses her lips and takes a breath. She’s actively trying to contain her anger—something he could stand to do more often. She retracts her outstretched hand and crosses both arms over her chest, then waits. Given the opportunity to speak without interruption, his mind goes completely blank.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and she stares at him with a disturbingly vacant expression. “I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t think those things about you. And I know you don’t owe me anything.”

She waits a beat.

“Are you finished?” she asks blankly.

He gives her a half-shrug, half-nod, and she holds her hand out. After a moment of hesitation, he drops the keys into her open palm, then watches her get into the rental and drive away. He sinks down into a nearby chair, devastated and so angry with himself he could cry.

He feels fairly confident that he’ll see her in the morning; even at her angriest, Scully is a consummate professional and wouldn’t walk out in the middle of a case. That doesn’t mean, however, that she’ll speak to him beyond what is absolutely necessary to complete their investigation.

He tries to imagine a dynamic in which the friendship that underlies their partnership no longer exists. Where he’s no longer listed as her emergency contact, and she won’t engage in frivolous conversations about the worst dates they’ve ever been on or rank her top ten favorite breakfast cereals to pass the time on long drives. Will she no longer feel comfortable telling him when her cramps are beyond the point of manageable and she needs to go back to the motel, or ask for his help carrying in her Christmas tree? The more he thinks about it, the more depressed he becomes. He knows he should give her time, but he’s never been a particularly patient man.

It’s at the fourth bar the cabbie takes him to that he finally spots the rental in the parking lot. He stuffs a twenty through the slot in the plexiglass barrier and hurries inside. The place is a total dive, hazy with cigarette smoke and stinking like piss. It’s only when he sees her sitting alone at the rail that he realizes he half expected to find her with her tongue down some guy’s throat, and a deep feeling of shame washes over him. Did he come here to talk to her, or to make sure she wasn’t talking to someone else?

He finds a table tucked away in the corner, partially obscured by a pinball machine but with a direct line of sight to Scully’s seat, and orders a beer. He just watches her, the defeated curve of her shoulders and her downturned mouth as she takes frequent sips from a cocktail glass. He watches her finish it and order another, and when she briefly leaves her seat to use the restroom he keeps his eyes trained on her glass to be sure no one slips anything into it. He’s about to order a third beer when he sees her flag down the bartender and hand him her credit card, at which point he quickly settles his own bill. Scully slowly slips off her barstool, teetering ever so slightly, and his heart starts to pound.

He trails half a dozen paces behind her, but she seems completely oblivious to her surroundings. She’s clearly intoxicated, and he’s having a hard time believing his own eyes because it looks like she intends to drive back to the motel. Halfway across the gravel parking lot she starts patting her pockets, and then abruptly turns around. Mulder freezes, watching as a flash of fear crosses her face, and then recognition, quickly followed by anger.

“Oh my god,” she spits at him. “Seriously, Mulder?!”

He swallows, but says nothing. Scully glowers at him, and then stalks back toward the bar, clipping his arm with her shoulder as she passes by. The force of it knocks him off-kilter and he takes a few awkward steps to avoid losing his balance. She returns less than a minute later, forgotten keys in hand, and wordlessly marches past him en route to the rental.

“Scully, let me drive,” he says, quickly passing her in a few long strides and beating her to the driver’s side door.

“Go away,” she grumbles, clumsily fitting the key into the lock.

“You’re drunk,” he tells her, leaning his full weight against the door to prevent her from opening it.

“Jesus Christ,” Scully whispers harshly under her breath, resting one hand over her forehead. She turns to face him, her chin lifted defiantly. “Am I drunk, Mulder? Or am I just exhausted? You tell me, you seem to know best.”

“I don’t think you should drive,” he says gently, trying not to make it sound like a directive.

Scully nods, her mouth twisted up into a tight little knot, and he can see her chest heaving.

“I shouldn’t drive. And definitely not convertibles, right? Shouldn’t get back to work so soon after my cancer. Shouldn’t adopt my own damn child.” Her eyes are welling with tears and her voice is tight, but there is no doubt that anger is the dominant emotion. Mulder doesn’t move from his spot against the car door, and he doesn’t speak. “Definitely shouldn’t date, and god forbid I have sex, right, Mulder? Unless it’s with you?”

She punctuates her final word with a firm jab of her index finger into his solar plexus, and he grimaces.

“I said I was sorry,” he tells her, doing his best not to match her anger, which is his default response. “You can date and sleep with whomever you want, obviously.”

“You’re sorry I’m mad at you, Mulder,” she keens, and a fat tear slides down her cheek. “You’re sorry that I might not want to listen to you go on and on about…mothmen and mutants.” She gestures wildly with her hands to highlight the absurdity of these things. “You’re sorry for yourself, not for me.”

Mulder drops his head. He doesn’t think any of that is true, but he can see why she’d think it is. And he has no one to blame for that but himself.

“Are you okay, miss? Is this man bothering you?”

He looks up to see a heavy set man in a ten-gallon hat watching them, his hand resting on the pistol that’s hanging from his belt. Mulder looks at Scully, begging her with his eyes not to fight him on this any further. Her chin pebbles and her shoulders slump, and she looks away.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she says, offering the man a thin smile before she walks around the car and waits by the passenger side door until Mulder unlocks it.

On the drive back to the motel Scully looks out the window, intermittently sniffing and wiping at her eyes. Mulder keeps his hands on the wheel at ten and two, gripping it so fiercely his knuckles blanch.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[sadlittleromantic]

the black widow

payback 2023

The theme i had in mind

The judgment day x oc or y/n

Warnings bad spelling bad punctuation slightly suggestive smut but not actual smut if that makes sense bad Spanish for a nor Spanish speaker( I am slowly learning how to speak Spanish though so let me know if I got it right or wrong)

Llevemos al bebé a casa = let's take the baby home

Ven y salta = come on jump

Quédate con tu pequeña dom sucia! = stay with your little dom!

mi dulce bebe = my sweet baby

Déjame cuidarte = let me take care of you

Está bien mami = it's fine mami

I couldn't decide if I was going to be a y/n story or a oc story so I did both sorry. No gender is said but there's talk about wearing underwear and bra and the OC or y/n gets called Mami.

And also if you steal my work I will report you don't do that!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm in the backstage with Damian and Finn watching Dominik running out and helping Rhea in the match with Raquel, Damian and Finn know that I want to go out and help, but I can't I got injured a couple weeks ago In a match with Indi Hartwell. Admittedly I was not supposed to be in the match but I wanted to help Rhea and I had a good reason

* A couple weeks ago *

I was in the backstage watching the TV and at a moment Rhea looked like she needed help and me being me and being left alone I ran out there to help but when I did Indi picked me up and threw me into the edge of the Ring. I didn't know what I was trying to do but I left up my leg and I hit my knee. I don't know what happened after because I passed out because of the pain, I just knew I was being picked up and carried by someone I think they were taking me back to Medical. I think halfway there I think I heard Rhea's theme and I knew at that moment that she won or maybe I was hallucinating

or this is just a dream? 10 minutes later I remember waking up in medical with my knee bandage up and a sad-looking Dominik giving me papers that said that I was on medical leave and that I could not help with the upcoming matches until I got cleared, I was going to say something I really was until rhea ran into the room and run up to me when she saw me and picking me up and when she was doing that she was saying " what were you thinking! Are you ok?" "My love I am okay," I said while she was setting, me down on my feet on the ground, and when she put me down I yelped falling into Dominik. Damien shared a look with everybody else in the Judgment Day and said to Joseph thank you, and then he said"Llevemos al bebé a casa". "Ven y salta" Dominik said I looked at him hesitantly for a minute, I might be short but I'm on the heavier side I'm scared I might crush him but I remember what happened a couple nights ago and how he was holding me. So I think I'm going to be fine I hop on and they brought me home

*End of flashback*

Dominik is running out while Rhea is trying to get to the rope of the Ring and she looks like she is in pain I can hear the announcers freaking out and I can hear the crowd freaking out, I can't find Damien and Finn but I need to get out there I was supposed to stay in the back I'm not supposed to go out until Monday. I got the okay to fight it was supposed to be a surprise at the end of Payback while I was pacing back and forth, and I don't know when but I looked up at the TV and Dominik was getting dragged I needed to get out there I don't know when but I started running

My theme started and my fireworks went off the crowd is freaking out and the announcers are too. Dominik got hit and thrown by Raquel I don't know when but I started running faster I can hear my heartbeat it's so loud I get up to the ring and hop into it while Raquel is confused and distracted I get ready to do my finishing move to help my partners, "oh my God the little psycho Rosa *or y/n *is in the ring ready to help dirty dom and Mami! " Says Michael Cole Rhea gets up and has a devilish look in her eyes as she nods her head I go from one side to the ring to the other side and as I'm running back to the other side Raquel tries getting me she runs full Force to me I'm scared from a minute. But I'm not going to sit here and let her take my girlfriend's title and also I'm not going to sit here and let her hurt my boyfriend, I ran straight then I moved to the side I went to the Ropes and I put my foot on the second rope and I jumped with all my force moving my body upwards and as I was halfway up in the air I moved my legs to wrap around Raquel's body and I move my hands up wrap them around her with my wrist facing outwards one of my fist grabs A Fistful of hair and she falls down I have her in a pin "oh my God Black Widow pin!"Michael Cole says I have her right where I want her I am wrapped around her like how black widows wrap around their prey I think we're about to win, but she gets up and goes to the side

where Dominik is it and throws me out of the ring saying in a very annoyed tone "Quédate con tu pequeña dom sucia!" I feel a burning sensation in the back of my eyes. When I felt I hit the ground so hard I guess I'm okay I can move it just hurts it's going to bruise and it's going to be bad I know that but I guess since I'm on the heavier side my weight kind of saved me when she dropped me which I'm glad for. Dominik comes to me to help me up so I can sit down and he is doing that he whispers sweet things in my ear such as "mi dulce bebe", "Déjame cuidarte" and my favorite "Está bien mami" 2 minutes later I hear the impact of a Riptide and at that moment I knew rhea as won! Dominik and I hop into the ring and hug her Dominik is smiling I'm so happy he looks like he's still in pain but I'll help bandage him up When we get backstage Rhea looks so happy she's looking down. at me holding me and God does she look so hot I can't think like that not in the ring and with everyone around the stadium, I try to get my mind back especially since we're getting out of the ring and I don't want to trip while I'm thinking like this halfway down the ramp to the backstage rhea and Dominik kisses my cheeks I can feel the blush coming up for my stomach when rhea bends down and says "my love there is a lot more where that came from" with a flirtatious look in her eyes, and as we get to the backstage Damien and finn are there I'm scared just for a moment as I think about everything they can do to me but finn starts talking.

  " The crew wants us to take some videos and pictures for the company and then we can go hotel celebrate all of this gold and punish and please this little thing," he says everybody agrees a few minutes later they're done taking pictures and videos and I bandage up Dominik we walked to the where the car was parked. We get in the car and drive for about 25 minutes until we get to where we are staying until tomorrow morning Finn pulls me aside when we are on the level of the hotel that we are staying at and says "Run little rabbit we want you~" in a deep gravelly voice. I feel like  I was a prayer to them and they were the predators and I love that so much has I skipped down to the hotel room that we were staying at I got to imagine what they would do to me and as I got into the room

I take off my clothes and I hear the door open I'm now just in my purple and black lace underwear, and bra I'm stuck trying to unclasp but they are looking at each other and they Rush towards me trying to see who's going to be first and I know tonight's going to be very long but very fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end!

I hope this is good tell me if it was or tell me if it wasn't, and I hope you have a lovely night, day or evening it depends on when you are reading this eat something drink some water and take your meds Bye!

[sydsaint]

Dom Dom 💜

Summary: The reader suffers an anxiety attack backstage on RAW. Luckily for her, Dominik is there to help her through it.

You've just barely arrived at the arena, intent on getting to the locker room as fast as possible so you can prepare yourself for your match against Zoey Stark. You weave through the backstage area, all the people around making your anxiety flare up. Regardless of your uneasy feelings, you manage to make it to the locker room and are about to head in when Adam Pearce catches you.

"Y/N, I'm glad that I caught you before you went in." Pearce hurries down the hall and over to your side.

"Oh! Hey, Adam." You bounce on your heels nervously. "What can I do for you?" You ask him.

Pearce gives himself a moment to catch his breath before he looks at you over the rim of his glasses with what appears to be a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, look, Y/N. '' Pearce signs. "I am so sorry to do this to you at the last minute, but Zoey is out sick tonight. So we're going to have to change your opponent from Stark to Indi Hartwell." He informs you.

"Oh." You reply quietly with a nod. "Okay, no big deal." You do your best to hide your anxiety with a smile.

"Again, I am so sorry," Pearce repeats himself. "I know that you don't like last-minute changes. But with the limited amount of available women we have on Raw, there really isn't anyone else we could get to replace you."

You close your eyes for a second and nod. "It's okay, Adam. Really." You try to assure him that you'll be alright. "Things like this happen sometimes, right?" You play it off as best you can.

"Exactly." Pearce agrees. "Okay, well good luck out there." He pats your shoulder gently. "And please don't hesitate to let me know if you need something, okay?" He asks you.

"I will." You nod. "Thanks, Pearce."

Pearce heads off feeling confident that you aren't too frazzled by the news. Once he's gone, you head into the locker room with shaky hands. The locker room appears empty when you come through the door and the silence is deafening. You shut the door behind you and let your bag drop to the floor.

"Shit." You take a deep breath as everything begins to sink in.

You've never wrestled Indi before. Hell, you're pretty sure that you've only met her once briefly. Zoey is your friend, and you've wrestled her a bunch before. She knows about your anxiety and struggles with things that don't go to plan. You walk over to the bench on the far side of the room and sit down heavily. Your chest and throat burn, eyes heavy with tears that are seconds away from falling down your face.

Left with nothing else to do, you fish your phone from your pocket with shaky hands and text your best friend a 911.

A few minutes later, the doorknob turns and someone comes through the door. "Y/N??" Dominick pokes his head through the door and spots you sitting on the bench in shambles. "I got your text, baby what's wrong?" He asks you.

"There was an emergency switch for the show." You explain in a shaky and quiet tone. "Zoey is out sick today and now I've gotta wrestle Indi Hartwell."

"Oh no." Dominick kicks the door shut behind him and walks over to you.

Dominick sits down on the bench next to you and you instinctively scoot in next to him. He places a comforting arm around you and rubs up and down your arm to comfort you. "It's gonna be alright, babe." He assures you.

"I've never even met Indi, though." You sigh. "What if she goes off script? Or what if she decides that she doesn't like me right off the bat?"

"Hey!" Dominick cuts in. "Y/N, babe, come on. Indi is sweet, and you're sweet." He reminds you. "Indi is going to like you, and she'll understand. It's all going to be alright."

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. "I hate this." You shake your head. "I don't even know if I'm gonna be able to go out there."

"And you don't have to if you don't want to," Dominick replies. "If you really think that it's too much, then I'll go find Pearce and let him know that you aren't comfortable doing it." He offers.

"Dominick, no." You shake your head. "This is my problem." You insist.

Dom scoffs and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly to comfort you. "Our problem." He corrects you. "We're a team, remember? Your problems are mine. And if you need me, I'll always be there. I haven't let you down yet, have I?" He asks you.

"...No." A small smile cracks on your face and you hug Dominick. "Thanks, Dom."

"No sweat, babe." Dominick hugs you tightly. "So, what do you want to do?" He asks you.

You sit in silence for a moment and think about it. And after some deliberation, you come to a decision. "I'll wrestle Indi. But will you come out to the ring with me?" You ask Dominick with hopeful eyes.

"Of course, I will." Dom nods.

You let out a thankful sigh and get changed into your ring gear for the match. When the time comes to head out, Dominick walks right at your side out to the tunnel. When you reach the tunnel, your nerves start to get the better of you again, but Dominick grabs your hand.

"You can do it, Y/N. You've got this, babe." He assures you with a soft smile.

You nod and find the courage to head through the tunnel and face your fears of the unknown. Indi is surprisingly cool once you get into the ring. She's great at whispering to you what she's about to do and giving you signals before she goes for big moves. You get through the match with Dominick cheering you on from outside the ring. Indi even lets you pick up the win. 

[elementaldoughnut12]

"Second Chance With My Universe "

*This is the first introduction to my oc Max Hartwell! Please be nice! Also listen to "Don't You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love With You)" by Kaden MacKay cause that's what's referenced in here*

*I'm tagging @afterdarkprincess cause she's been excited to read this and cover art is by @switchbladebc whose oc Ashley inspired me to make my own oc fic!*

Mox got a text from Claudio saying something about them getting a new BCC member and if Mox is being honest...he doesn't think they need another young talent when they already have Wheeler ripping through the roster. Mox walked to the BCC locker room thinking about ways to scare off the new recruit when he opened the door and his heart stopped.

"M-Max!?!" Mox said while looking at the man whom he was crushing on for twenty years. It felt like opening a time capsule for Mox when looking at Max. Back then when he and Max went into wrestling together, Max was just this tiny little gym rat that cried whenever they lost a match and Mox had to comfort him in his arms. Now, Max was bulky and had facial hair. The only way he knew it was Max was by his long hair and the giant burn scar on his back.

“Looks like the guest of honor has finally arrived” Claudio says, which snaps Mox out of his shocked state. Max turns around and a big smile is spread across his face. “Jon!” Max says as he runs towards Mox and gives him a huge hug. Mox grunts a bit from the tight squeeze but wraps his arms around Max nonetheless. Max is 5’8 so his fluffy hair tickles the bottom of Mox's face a bit. Max even stills uses the same shampoo that gives off a mango scent which was Mox's favorite. 

“N-Nice to see you too Max umm I-I thought you were only working on Collision?” Mox says which earns him a laugh. “Yeah I was but Chuck wanted me to work with someone who I knew so he asked Tony to put me on Dynamite and on the same schedule as you! Can't you believe it? The “Lunatic Lovers” are back together baby!” Max says happily as he jumps a bit in Mox's arms. Mox thought his heart was gonna explode out of his chest with happiness after he heard those words. 

“You guys used to be a tag team?” Wheeler asks curiously. Mox felt cold when Max released from his embrace. “Fuck yeah we were! Kid, me and Mox started together in the independent circuit when I was fifteen and he was eighteen and we had the most hardcore matches ever! I called myself the “Canadian Cannibal” cause I was born in Québec until I got adopted by Chuck's family and moved to Ohio at ten. Moxie here was “Unscripted Violence” cause you never know what he's gonna do! We called ourselves the “Lunatic Lovers” cause we were crazy as hell and everybody always thought we were together. 

We traveled everywhere together and we even went to be a part of the Shield in WWE! We both left in 2018 and I worked indie shows all over the fucking map until my brother got me here!” Max says with enthusiasm. “Sometimes I had to hold him after we lost matches cause he cried” Mox says with a laugh. Max gasped and punched Mox in the arm. “It's ok to be sensitive asshole! Not everyone can be emotionless like you!” Max says with a pout. 

“Will bunking with me tonight make you feel better?” Mox says with a blush. “Yes it would! Plus you're cute when you get embarrassed!” Max says with a laugh. Mox was about to say something back when there was a knock at the door. The door opened and it revealed Max's older brother, Chuck Taylor. “Hey little bro you're going against Alex Reynolds in five minutes so get your little butt ready when I walk you to the ring!” Chuck said. 

“I'm thirty-five! I don't need my big brother holding my hand and besides I'm ready!” Max says while showing off his gear. He was wearing a pair of black trunks with red splotches on them to represent blood splatter. The trunks also had the BCC logo on the side and they showed off Max's bubbly ass which Mox tried to not look at. To top it off, he wore a pair of chunky black knee high boots with white laces. He also put on wrist tape similar to Mox's style which made him blush. 

“Oh yeah? Seems to me that you're chatting with your boyfriend” Chuck says with a smirk. “Fuck you! Besides aren't you fucking Orange?” Max says back with a laugh. “Yeah? Still doesn't help that you're still a virgin” Chuck says causing Max to blush with embarrassment. “Can we go to the ring now?” Max says quietly. “Sure, you guys better take notes cause Max is gonna murder this guy!” Chuck says, causing Max to jump with excitement. “Hell yeah I am! You guys make sure the little tyke doesn't get scared watching the gory parts!” Max says with a laugh.

“I'm literally only eight years younger than you!” Wheeler says angrily. Max looks Wheeler up and down. “Nah! I know a twelve year old when I see one!” Max says with a laugh. “Max is right Wheeler… you do look twelve” Mox says causing Max to laugh even more. “Moxie gets it! Ok, time to brutalize a sex cult member! You gonna watch me on the screen Jon?” Max asks Mox with a smile. “D-Definitely! Wouldn't wanna miss you for anything!” Mox says while blushing immensely. 

“Awesome! See you guys in twenty minutes!” Max says as he kisses Mox's cheek and walks with Chuck to the ring. Mox holds his face and is blushing immensely with a lovestruck smile on his face. “Why does everyone think I'm twelve?” Wheeler asks with an irritated tone. “I don't think that's the hot topic of the evening Wheeler” Claudio says as he motions towards Mox. “What are you… oh! Mox has a crush on Max!” Wheeler says, causing Mox to glare at him. “Yeah so what? It's nothing major” Mox says as he looks at the screen…

“The opponent! Accompanied to the ring by Chuck Taylor! He's from Québec, Canada and weighs two hundred and ten pounds! He's the “Canadian Cannibal”... MAX HARTWELL!” 

Mox watches on as Max and Chuck walk down to the ring as “Cannibal” by Kesha plays on the speakers. Max slides into the center of the ring and crosses his arms above his head. When the peak of the song hits he puts his crossed arms over his chest and makes a rock and roll gesture and sticks his tongue out. “Fucking dork” Mox says with a quiet laugh. “You seem to really like him, Mox” Wheeler says with a smirk. “You don't know the whole story Wheeler” Claudio says as they sit on the couch with Mox. 

“Love how you guys are talking about my love life when I'm right here” Mox says while not taking his eyes off the screen. “How did you guys actually meet? He said you guys went into wrestling together but how did it all start?” Wheeler asks curiously. Mox takes a deep breath and sighs. “Well, it started with me living in my car after my mom's latest boyfriend beat me to hell and kicked me out of the house. I did little house show gigs around the map to get by and shit. I was just a dropout who everyone assumed will never get anywhere.

One day, I was in a gas station bathroom in Québec getting ready for a show and I went outside to leave and I found him. I watched as his old man threw him out of the car and onto the snowy ground and drove away. I ran over to check on him and Jesus fuck, he was bruised up and had a giant cut above his eye. I put his bag in my car and put him in the front seat. I patched him up with a little first aid kit I had in my glove box and he just stared at me and asked me why I helped him. I told him that nobody deserves to get thrown out like trash. 

He just smiled at me and hugged me and this is the first time I ever met him and fuck, I fell in love with him at that moment. I took him to the show with me as a last minute tag team debut and our chemistry was perfect together. Shit, we even won that night! We took our winnings and ate at some crappy diner and we just talked. He told me that his dad was training him before he got kicked out and I asked him if he wanted to come with me and do house shows together. He agreed and he has never left my side since.” He finished with a nostalgic smile on his face. 

“How come you never asked him out or anything?” Wheeler asks confusingly. Mox's smile turned into a regretful frown. “I'm afraid that I'm gonna fuck it up again cause I didn't save him then so what makes him believe that I wouldn't just repeat what I did back then?” He says sadly. “Is that about the burn scar on his back?” Wheeler asks and receives a small nod from Mox. 

“We were in a deathmatch and our opponents handcuffed me to a corner of the ring and made me watch as they set Max on fire. I heard him screaming and crying and calling my name. They immediately stopped the match and uncuffed me and I went with Max to the hospital. I apologized for not saving him and he said it wasn't my fault but it was… IT FUCKING WAS! Maybe if I was more aware of my surroundings then it wouldn't have happened.” Mox says as he feels tears start to form.

Wheeler and Claudio look at Mox with concerned faces. “What is Max doing?” Wheeler asks as he points at the screen, trying to change the conversation. Mox wipes his eyes and looks at the screen. “He's about to do his signature move!” He says excitedly as he jumps out of his seat. They watch as Max gets on the top rope, jumps, does a flip across the ring and stomps right on top of Alex's head. He then goes for the pin and wins the match. 

“Fuck yeah! That's my angel!” Mox says then blushes when he lets Max's nickname slip. “What even was that? I've never seen anything like that!” Wheeler says in shock, pretending to not notice the slip-up. “That's Max's signature move! It's called Toxic Shock! He's been using that move since our indie days and it knocks them out everytime!” Mox says proudly. “I remember he did that move on me and it gave me a concussion” Claudio says, causing Mox and Wheeler to laugh. 

“Hard to believe that's Chuck's little brother but wait a minute… he never told us why he's called the Canadian Cannibal?” Wheeler asks confusingly. “Just watch the screen and see for yourself” Mox says with a smirk. They sit back down on the couch and watch the screen. The match is over but they see Max hovering over Alex. They see him put something in his mouth, grab Alex by the shoulders and bite into his neck. 

Claudio and Wheeler watch in shock as Max sinks his teeth into Alex's neck and causes him to scream. Max then proceeds to pull his mouth off of him, leaving a giant bleeding bite mark and smiles. They see Max is wearing a mouth guard that looks like fangs and is covered in blood. He then does his signature hand gesture and leaves the ring. “Holy shit” Wheeler says in shock. “That's Max Hartwell for ya! He always knows how to impress people…” Mox says with a smile.

“You gotta ask him out, Mox! You two are perfect together!” Wheeler says, looking at Mox excitingly. “I already told you Wheeler I'm afraid to ask him out cause I don't wanna fuck up again” Mox says as he turns of the tv. “That was a long time ago, Jon. Like you said Max never blamed you for his injury and he still cares deeply for you. It also seems to me that you still care deeply about him too. So don't let this second chance slip past you.” Claudio says to him with a smile. 

Mox looks at Claudio and Wheeler and sighs. “Goddammit, I hate when you're right. So how should I ask him out?” he asks expectantly. “You can slip a love letter in his gym bag!” Wheeler says excitedly. “This isn't high school Wheeler” Mox says with a chuckle. “Worked for me and Danny” Wheeler says embarrassingly. “Just tell him how you feel Jon. You never had a problem with expressing your feelings before. You've waited twenty years so I think you deserve to be with him. You do love him don't you?” Claudio questions him.

“With all my heart…” Mox says truthfully. “It's settled! Mox is gonna ask out Max and we're gonna watch from afar! Let's go!” Wheeler says excitedly as he pushes Mox out of the locker room. Mox gives a look to Claudio, which causes him to laugh. “He just wants you to be happy Jon” He says with a smile as they leave the locker room. Mox looks around the arena and spots Max talking to Chuck in catering. He looks back behind himself and sees Claudio and Wheeler failing to hide behind a wall.

Mox takes a deep breath and walks closer to Max. “Max!” He says to catch Max's attention. Max smiles and runs over to hug him. “Jon! Did you see me out there? Told you I would kick some ass!” He says excitedly as he lets go of Mox. “I think you gave Reynolds rabies Max” Mox says, causing Max to laugh. “He kinda deserved it cause he was talking shit about you! Nobody deserves to say anything bad about you!” Max says protectively, causing Mox to blush a bit. 

“You know you don't have to defend me all the time Max. I can handle myself you know” Mox says with a smile. “I care about you too much to not defend you Jon” Max says with a hint of blush on his cheeks. Hearing that from Max makes it even harder for what Mox is gonna say. “I actually w-wanna ask you something Max” he says nervously. “What is it Jon?” Max says, beautiful green eyes staring into him. Mox can feel his anxiety take over and does the unthinkable. 

“I-I'm sorry I gotta go!” Mox says as he runs away from Max. He runs out of the arena and makes it to his car. He leans against the side and feels tears start to form in his eyes. “GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!” he says angrily as he harshly kicks the tire of his car. “I had one shot to finally get with the guy I've been in love with for twenty fucking years and I fucking blew it” he says as he starts to cry. He takes out a pack of cigarettes and his favorite lighter. 

He leans against the trunk of his car and takes a drag of his cigarette. He wipes away his tears and looks up at the starry night. “Why can't I just say I love you to you Max?” he says with a sigh, not knowing someone is listening to him from afar. He stubs out the cigarette and pulls out his phone and pulls up a music app Wheeler helped him download and plays a song. He knows he's not a good singer but it always made Max smile…

“Don't you dare make me fall in love with you

Don't you dare enchant me with those eyes

If I fell through your skies,

There's no way you would catch me

There's a tear in my heart,

But your patch wouldn't match me

Being near you still adds to the size of my sighs,

There's still seismic events at hellos and goodbyes,

And I still need reminders of why it's unwise

To stare

So..."

“I always thought you had a good singing voice even if everyone else says you're shit” Max says, causing Mox to jump. “Max! How long have you been standing there?�� Mox asks with a blush. “When you ran off I came to check on you. Do you really love me Jon?” Max asks curiously as he sits on the trunk of the car. “Yeah, I always did” Mox says as he lights another cigarette. “For how long?” Max asks as he inches a bit closer to Mox. “Since we met twenty years ago” Mox says as he takes a puff.

“How come you've never said anything?” Max says, causing Mox to sigh. “I was afraid I was gonna fuck up again” he says as he takes a drag. He was gonna take another puff when Max takes it and takes a puff instead. “Jon…” he says seriously, inches away from Mox's face. “The accident was never your fucking fault. You were handcuffed so you couldn't have done anything! You have been making yourself suffer for so long not even knowing that I felt the same way about you! Knowing that now… it kills me” Max finishes as he takes one last puff and stubs the cigarette out.

Now knowing that Max has felt the same way after all these years makes Mox feel like an idiot. “You know what? Fuck it!” Mox says as he leans in and kisses Max deeply. The feeling of his lips against Max's feels like he's floating in space. He puts his hands under Max's ass and lifts him into his arms, causing Max to yelp and wrap his arms and legs around Mox. He looks up to see Max crying. “I can't believe it took you this long to do that” Max says happily through tears. “I'm sorry for making you wait so long angel” Mox apologizes as he kisses Max's tears away. 

“You gonna ask me out or what? You only kissed me but you still haven't asked me out to make it official” Max says with a laugh, causing Mox to roll his eyes. “Max Hartwell, will you be my boyfriend?” he says with a gentle smile and a blush. “I thought you'd never ask” Max says as he dives in and kisses Mox. “Wearing tight ring shorts that rode up my ass to the ring all these years finally paid off huh?” Max says with a smirk, causing Mox to hold him tighter.

 “Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?” Mox questions with a smile. “Am I still bunking with you tonight? Now that we're officially together I think you deserve all of me Jon” Max says with a blush. Mox just smiles and looks into his boyfriend's eyes. “I got a second chance with my universe didn't I?” Mox says truthfully. “You sure fucking did” Max says as he leans in for one last kiss. 

Mox is excited for what's to come later when he takes Max to the hotel but he's even more happy that he finally gets to be with the man he's been in love with for so long. He never thought Max would ever reciprocate his feelings for him but holy fuck he was wrong. He never wants to experience a world without Max ever again. So he's just happy he got a second chance with his universe…

[whimsicaldragonette]

ARC Review: The Unlikely Heir by Jax Calder

Preorder

Add to Goodreads

Publication Date: August 24, 2023

Synopsis:

What happens when the Prince of Wales falls in love with the Prime Minister? My boring life working in an insurance call center in sunny California just took an unexpected turn. Thanks to my misbehaving relatives, I’ve leapt from obscurity to royalty as the new heir to the British throne. But my welcome in England is about as warm as the weather. I arrive to discover a country horrified at the thought of an American version of Prince Charming and ready to revolt against the monarchy. I vow to my grandmother, the Queen, that I will do everything possible to help her save the crown. Unfortunately, royal life isn’t easy. From bewildering traditions, traitorous friends, and malevolent swans, the only thing I’m succeeding in is providing entertainment for the tabloids and social media trolls. And then the broodingly handsome Prime Minister, Oliver Hartwell, bursts into my life. With his meteoric rise from poverty to the most powerful man in the country, Oliver understands my current plight. Innocent messages of support turn into late-night chats—and unexpected feelings. But there’s one major problem. The royal family must remain politically neutral at all times. So how can I keep my promise to save the monarchy when I’m falling in love with the Prime Minister? A forbidden romance filled with humor and drama featuring a bumbling Prince of Wales and a stern yet dashing Prime Minister, with a love that could transform a nation.

My Rating: ★★★★★

*My Review and Favorite Quotes below the cut.

My Review:

I picked this up because the cover and synopsis were cute and because I desperately needed something to fill the void left after finishing the new Red White & Royal Blue movie. And this was absolutely perfect. This a deliciously swoony slow-burn romance, with Callum, unlikely American heir to the British throne, and Oliver, Prime Minister of the UK, sloooooowly falling in love over nightly text messages that evolve into phone calls that evolve into video calls and then more. I loved Callum, with his bumbling but cheerful approach to life, his random facts and obsessions, and always seeing the magic in the small things and trying to make people's days brighter with every conversation. He was so genuine and likeable and good. He occasionally reminded me of a golden retriever lol. I also loved Oliver, with his passion to improve the lives of the common people and his witty comebacks and political savvy. He was so serious all the time - it was nice to see Callum making him laugh and relax. Would this absolutely bonkers political scenario ever happen in real life? Hell no. Did I care? Absolutely not. It worked because the heart of the story is Callum and Oliver falling in love. I was 100% there for them falling for one another and in some sense the political trappings of the story were secondary to that. Yes it was amusing, and it certainly caused plenty of conflict and provided the forbidden relationship angle, but I'm not going to nitpick historical or political details. Why would I? I loved this too much. I flew through it in a day and did absolutely nothing else I had planned to because I couldn't tear myself away from it. To be fair, when presented with an epistolary novel, especially a slow-burn in the form of text messages, I'm almost guaranteed to like it. There have been a few notable exceptions, but only a few. Callum and Oliver, however, are the heart of this novel and their personalities and interactions are what drew me in and kept me hooked. This is absolutely a new favorite and I will be checking out the author's other works asap. *Thanks to Booksirens and NetGalley for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

“You need to cut your toenails,” I say because, you know, that’s an appropriate thing to say to the prime minister. “I’ve been wondering why my socks are suddenly getting holes in them,” he says.

---

“There is no magic to be found in the EU agricultural trade negotiations, trust me,” I say.

---

Herbert’s my usual go-to person for dress etiquette, but I’m not sure if even he would know how to dress when you’re meeting the prime minister for a suspiciously vague mission.

---

Maybe that’s what the prime minister actually is. School principal to the entire nation.

---

I never knew a kiss could feel like the truth.

[wrestlingisfake]

Rebellion preview

Moose vs. Nic Nemeth - Moose is defending the TNA men's world title; Nemeth's IWGP global title is not on the line.

Since June, Moose has been closely aligned with Brian Myers, and since December Myers has been teaming with Eddie Edwards. On January 13, the three men (along with Eddie's wife Alisha) formally became a faction called The System, and Moose closed the night by winning the world title. On March 8, Myers and Edwards won the men's tag title, further establishing the stable's dominance. So the System wins a lot of championships and takes things super seriously, which unfortunately makes them come across as a dollar-store version of WWE's Bloodline.

Nemeth is on a hot streak coming off the heels of his WWE release. He's wrestled for New Japan, the WWC in Puerto Rico, TNA, GCW, and several different indies--it feels like he's all over the place. He's clearly following the pattern we saw with guys like Cody Rhodes, Jon Moxley, and Matt Cardona when they exited WWE, and so far it's working. But his WWE run as Dolph Ziggler casts a long shadow. Nemeth can't help but acknowledge that he's spent most of his career falling short, and now it's a real challenge to prove he can do better than that. Unfortunately this boils down to whether Moose will stop him from reaching the happy ending of his "story," which comes across as a dollar-store version of Cody Rhodes vs. Roman Reigns.

If you can overlook the similarities to what WWE has been doing, this should be a good match. Of course, the biggest difference between this feud and Reigns-Rhodes is this ain't Wrestlemania, and Moose is not a 1,300-day champion, and Nemeth hasn't been chasing the title for two years. There's not nearly as much pressure to deliver the perfect ending, so Nemeth could destroy Moose, or Moose could be saved with a clusterfuck finish, or any number of other outcomes. This could either be the start of a "Nemeth era" or the first step in a long chase leading to Bound for Glory in October.

That being said, TNA historically doesn't have much patience when it comes to taking their time putting the top title on a refugee from WWE. These days, I think that makes sense--they might as well strike while the iron is hot, and not wait around and risk Nemeth going down with an injury. This one is tough to call, but I'm going with a title change.

Jordynne Grace vs. Steph De Lander - This is for Grace's TNA women's world championship. De Lander used to appear on NXT as Indi Hartwell's friend Persia Pirotta, but for the past year she's been closely tied to Matt Cardona on the indie scene.

Normally the heat with De Lander and Cardona is how they help each other win matches, and under normal circumstances I'd expect Cardona to be all over this one. But real life intervened at the last minute, and Cardona is currently recovering from surgery to repair a tear in his left pectoralis. That alone makes this interesting, because they probably had all sorts of ideas for this match that will have to be rewritten. If De Lander is sticking around I could see her winning the title, but as it stands I'm not even sure if this is a one-and-done. So I think I have to pick Grace to retain.

Josh Alexander vs. Alex Hammerstone - This is a "last man standing" match. Basically anything goes, and the match can't end until one man is off his feet and unable to stand up to answer the referee's ten-count. Technically you can win a match like this by tying the other guy's ankles together, but the idea is that you're supposed to pummel him into unconsciousness.

This is actually the fourth one-on-one match between these two. Their first encounter was on a 2022 indy show in Battle Creek, Michigan, which went to a no-contest. When they met for the first time in TNA, on January 13, 2024, Josh got the win. Hammerstone evened the score on March 8, and now this is the rubber match. I suppose it might be interesting if they both collapse and go to a draw to extend the feud. But I figure Hammersone will get the last laugh tonight.

Mustafa Ali vs. Jake Something - Ali is the defending TNA X division championship. The X division was originally conceived as a way to promote the little flippy guys in TNA without the stigma of actually calling them junior heavyweights or cruiserweights. Occasionally someone remembers that there's no weight limit and has a big mean guy, like Something, go after the belt. Ali doesn't want to face Something (I mean, would you?), so he's been advocating for the implementation of a weight limit--which has happened before, but obviously didn't stick.

I would have Ali steal a victory with some clever shenanigans, maybe involving interference from his entourage of Secret Service goons. Then again, I'm not even sure he's under contract, or if he's sticking around, so it's fair to assume every Ali match in TNA could be his last. I'm picking Ali to retain, but you just never know.

Eddie Edwards & Brian Myers vs. Mike Bailey & Trent Seven - Edwards and Myers are defending the TNA men's tag team title. I don't expect any earth-shattering developments from this one. The match should be fine, but I doubt Edwards and Myers are going to drop the title anytime soon.

Eric Young vs. Frankie Kazarian - This is billed as a "full metal mayhem" match, which is just TNA's equivalent to a "tables, ladders, and chairs" match in WWE. Normally that would mean some prize would be hung above the ring, and the only way to win would be to climb a ladder and get it. But I don't think anything is at stake in this feud, so they'll probably just have a street fight with a bunch of weapons strewn around the ringisde area.

Kazarian turned on Young on January 13. I guess this led Young to revisit his Violent By Design persona from a few years ago, so he can really kick some ass. Listen, it was cool when Mick Foley did the whole "Mankind turns into Cactus Jack for extra power" shtick, but that was 27 years ago! And TNA in particular is full of wrestlers who do that bit all the time, resurrecting gimmicks nobody even remembers! Anyway, I don't really care who wins.

Joe Hendry vs. Rich Swann - Hendry has been feuding with AJ Francis (formerly Top Dolla in WWE), and I guess Swann turned heel to align with Francis for some reason. I don't know if they're saving Hendry vs. Francis for later, or if they just don't have enough confidence in Francis to actually book that match. Seems like Hendry needs somebody to help him in this feud, so my guess is that he'll win, but then get double-teamed, and then some babyface will run in for the save to set up a tag match.

Dani Luna & Jody Threat vs. Jessicka Havok & Rosemary - This is scheduled for the pre-show, and I think you can only watch the pre-show on TNA+. Spitfire (Luna and Threat) are defending the TNA women's tag title. The women's tag division in TNA usually amounts to two teams fighting endlessly until one breaks up or goes away, and then another team forms to repeat the process. So even if Spitfire loses the belts here, they'll probably get plenty of rematches. Personally I'd prefer to see Spitfire retain and build them up to face other teams, but I don't see why they'd start doing that now.

Crazzy Steve vs. Laredo Kid - Steve is defending the TNA digital media title, which I think is supposed to only be defended on the pre-show. I can't believe this belt is still a thing. I guess Steve retains.

Ace Austin & Chris Bey & Leon Slater vs. Trey Miguel & Zachary Wentz & Myron Reed - Another pre-show match. Last I checked, ABC (Austin and Bey) are still in Bullet Club; I keep expecting them to quit or get kicked out, but New Japan seems to have forgotten they're over here. I think Reed used to be one of the Rascalz alongside Trey and Wentz, but I'm too lazy to look it up. I have no idea what Slater has to do with anything. This looks like an excuse to have six flippy guys do cool moves, with no particular plan or purpose. Which is a shame, because I think Austin and Bey can do better. I guess I'll pick their team to win.

[axelwolf8109]

Pining In The Darkness

Damian had a crush on the pretty younger man for about two years. Johnny Gargano had invited him to the on screen wedding of Indi Hartwell and Dexter Lumis. Austin had borrowed him to make a little joke, and Damian had fallen for that adorable dopey smile. He didn't have the chance to ask him out because he was sent to the main roster and he'd been so busy busting his ass especially after he won the United States Championship. He periodically checked in on the younger male on NXT, enjoying the whole found family skits the Way had. After some time, he'd lost the belt, went to WrestleMania with his close friend Bad Bunny, and got hand chosen by Edge to be with the Judgement Day. He missed Austin's arrival on the main roster until the night Vince appeared and announced his 'new Golden Boy.' Rhea noticed the change in his mood almost immediately. She had snuck up behind him while he was watching the monitor. "See something you like, buddy?" He felt his face burn. "Not at all. He's just a good superstar." "Really, lying to your best friend?" He sighed. "It's nothing Rhea. I promise." She rolled her eyes. "Fine but if I have to kick your ass for lying, don't go hiding on me." He laughs and the segment with Vince ends. He slipped into the shadows and headed towards the gorilla. He lingered there, watching the Chairman talking to Austin. He was definitely animated in the way he talked and Damian found it endearing. Vince shook his hand and left. Austin then sagged against the wall. He took a moment to relax after the rush of the move up. Before Damian could step out of the shadows to talk to him, Johnny came bouncing up and greeted his young protege. Damian watched as the younger man brightened instantly and smiled. He enjoyed how happy he always looked with his friends and mentors. He remained hidden in the darkness and watched them walk away. Damian felt a presence to his left. "Rhea, are you following me?" "Given that she's a different gender and a little taller than me, no." Damian turned and saw Finn, a good friend and current feud partner. "How are you Finn?" "Just fine. You alright, pining over here?" Damian sighed. "Am I that predictable?" "No but you're easy to read. You're taken with him aren't you?"I...admire him as a competitor." Finn chuckled softly. "Do not a lot of people know your sexuality?" Damian knew Finn wouldn't judge him, especially not after his one Mania entrance with several of the LGBT. "Not really but I'm not exactly…quiet about it. But it's cool. I doubt he'd like me that way, plus I'm way older than he is." "Age doesn't really matter as long as you're both consenting adults. And for the other thing, you just need to get to know him." "Suppose that's fair. Thanks Finn."

[omegawhiskers]

RAW 20/11/23

Good guy, Drew

Raw beings Drew McIntyre is in the ring as he explains his actions from last week when he cost Jey Uso and Cody Rhodes the Unified Tag Team Titles. Drew’s reasoning is sound. Anyone in his boots would have done the same. He also said that he wasn’t a part of Judgement Day but was given a chance to step into Wargames to fight Jey in a cage. Jey eventually comes out and not one word of sympathy from this man’s mouth. The Judgement Day arrive to back Drew up, as does Cody, Seth Rollins and Sami Zayn for Jey.  Things were about to kick off before Adam Pearce stops everyone. He says that the main event will be one member from each team in a singles match. It came down to Drew and Jey. This was a no brainer. Cody says he has an old friend in mind as the fifth member of WarGames. It’s obviously, Ted Dibiase JR.

The first match was Nia Jax vs. Raquel Rodriguez. They had a short but decent match. A few times, Rodriguez tried to lift Jax, but her back kept giving out. More deadlifts are required, I say! Nia eventually wins with the Annihilator.

Becky Lynch faced off against Xia Li. This one was a bit disappointing story wise. Li has been setting her devastating kick, that caused stoppage for both her last matches. Li did catch Lynch with her kick, but Lynch came back to win the match. It would of be great to see the kick at the very start, and then Lynch has to fight her way back. I don’t like Li’s chances tomorrow night when she faces Lyra Valkyria for the NXT Women’s title *UPDATE* Li lost.

Things got frosty post-match when Damage CTRL made a surprise appearance. Charlotte, Bianca Belair and Shotzi also came from Smackdown. A brawl broke out. Michael Cole wanted everyone to fight because Cole is a mad bastard. This was another nice build to WarGames.

Ludwig Kaiser and Johnny Gargano had a solid match. The tilt-a-whirl faceplant from and death valley driver from Kaiser were two fantastic looking moves. Unfortunately, Giovanni Vinci came to the ring to try and help Kaiser, but caused a distraction. This gave Gargano the advantage to win. Later Kaiser to get a verbal whipping from Gunther. I hope to see a Kaiser and Vinci match down the line.

We had a match to find out who will become the number one contender for the Women’s Tag Team Titles. It was Candice LeRae and Indi Hartwell vs. Tegan Nox and Natalya vs. Maxxine Dupri and Ivy Nile vs. Kayden Carter and Katana Chance. This was short but fun match. Carter and Chance had some sweet moves, while Dupri showed the most charisma. I didn’t like Natalya and Nox winning. I just have no interesting in them.

The Miz and Gunther had a battle of words in the ring. Miz says he is an entertainer and is proud because he grew up wanting to be like his heroes; Macho Man, Bret Hart, Rick Rude and Shawn Michaels. Gunther said the Miz is a weirdo who was bullied in school and was bullied by his heroes when he arrived in WWE. I don’t think anyone mentioned bullied the Miz. Gunther tells the Miz that he has no respect for him and that he deserves to be bullied. Gunther shoved Miz a few times, until Miz attacked, but was quickly put down. Miz came back when he resorted to a low blow. I hope the Miz loses at Survivor Series, and then goes on a journey to get his mojo back.

Chad Gable and Shinsuke Nakamura and an alright TV match. This is the second loss for Alpha Academy tonight. This stable need some wins. Like Dupri, I would have liked to have seen Gable getting the victory. He could have won. then you could do a second match where Nakamura gets the victory, followed the rubber match.

The main even was advertised as an advantage match that has gone to Judgement Day and Drew. This match felt non-aggressive for two people that hate each other. Post match had another brawl with everyone. This time the babyfaces left with an announcement that Randy Orton is the fifth member of their team. They didn't mention him by name, but Cody dropped some major hints.

This was a decent episode. Some solid matches and progression for the WarGames matches. My nitpick is that there were too many backstage segments. I hope Raw goes down to two hours so all this backstage nonsense can be shortened or dropped.

[cellody]

DWC: Day IV

CHILDREN & VISION @daily-writing-challenge​ MENTIONS: Elinore Hartwell, @konietzko-sylvoran​, @talthorn-sylvoran​

“Oh, perfect timing, cherub; here.”

Lance’s aunt Odetha had turned in her chair upon hearing those two tinkering bells over the door signal the arrival of the only other person with a key to the workshop. “Test this for me, would you?” She stood, wiped off any loose dust amongst wooden curls from her apron, and picked up a newly-completed violin beside her desk to hand her nephew.

“Is there a bow for it?” His knapsack was set down so the instrument could be taken and looked over with scrutinous admiration.

She picked that up as well. “Just your standard sort. This is meant for a beginner so I do not believe they will be as picky about certain sounds coming from different fibers as you.” When Lance wrinkled his nose a little at that, she shortly chuckled, “Understandably picky. That is a compliment, honey. You know that.”

He’d already begun to glide through a few sampling scales and measures of pieces he liked to portray on new makes; those with extra vibrato, those with octave-jumping glissandos, those with a bit of plucking, and those with exaggerated crescendos from near-silence to room-filling volume. Everything seemed to check out well enough. By the time he’d settled on contentment with their craft, he held it back out to her and gave a questioning look when he realized she’d been watching with her arms crossed. “What…?”

A tsk of a sigh passed her lips when slowly taking the violin to its hanging post and one beside it that had its varnish dried was taken down in its place. “When will you play for people other than me?”

Not this again. Lance was the one then sighing and moving to his distracting corner of the room where he could help trim and sand a form of Uldum rosewood awaiting its next steps in the making of a guitar.

Noting his silence, she pressed the issue with a playful, “People like that pianist you saw—what was her name, Lianna?”

“Elinore...” Ears warmed. Maybe he had talked about her a bit too much after the beach event, but that was the first time he’d ever watched someone do what Odetha wished he would, so how could he not be enthralled? No singing, no dancing, no special effects, just her and the piano playing whatever her heart desired for a crowd that surprised him with its receptiveness.

His number one fear had been and would always be boring people with classical pieces. What were those trying to show off their bodies in risky date clothes on a dance floor supposed to do with slow pieces of music void of strobe lights or remix effects or… anything? Elinore played the piano beautifully as a solo artist and many seemed to love it; that feat sat in his mind hourly ever since. It may not have roped in the amount of hype and fans that those like dear Konietzko and Talthorn could, but… he didn’t think he'd be able to handle popularity like that to begin with let alone deserve it. It’d never been an achievable vision of his.

Odetha, though, regularly echoed to him that her last bucket list wish was to watch him perform for the people of Azeroth. He hated such a cue for two reasons; one, because he’d struggled to grasp the idea of confidently manning a stage by himself since birth, and two, because the list reminded him of her age and dawning life slowly but surely creeping towards its end. This would mark the first year her hair had completed graying and the first year he’d had to start taking the reality of claiming the Cellody brand as its heir seriously. She never had children of her own nor married so they were the only family one another had left.

“Yes, yes—Elinore. Your talent is not unlike hers or your mothers and I just… I just ache so severely to think that your name may never find its place in history books because you neglected all your life to share your Light-given gift. You were a prodigy long before you even understood what music as a concept was. You deserve recognition beyond just being a luthier.”

“It is not just being a luthier,” he frowned. “I love what we do…”

She’d sat back down a while ago to resume applying their signature to the violin’s back but paused, then, to re-do the bun in her hair. “Maybe you could think of it as advertising, then. Let others know that instruments are not impossible to come by and that anyone can learn.”

Another wrinkle of the nose. Lance imagined ending a performance with an awkward business proposal was even worse than the idea of performing at all.

“Your father fell for your mother’s perfect pitch, you know.”

Lance stopped shaving wood with a pout aimed across the shop. “I know. It sounds so much more romantic in stories, though; any time I picture someone liking me just because of my playing… it feels wrong.”

“If that was how it remained, yes, that could be skeevy. But more often than not it simply introduces two people; then they find other reasons to connect amidst similar interests and remain a couple.” She met his pout with a cheeky smile. “If you would not play for a crowd nor in my or your parents’ honor, would you play for love~?”

That shut him up. He’d been rather quiet to begin with and always was when this subject came about, but she knew she’d struck a good note with that thus resumed her task and left him to stew in meditative offense (since his pet peeve was having her assume he wouldn’t play for familial honor).

...Or was it consideration?

[readromanceink]

☆•.¸¸🔥☆ HOT NEW RELEASE!☆🔥¸¸.•☆ Mercy on Me by A L Hartwell A Dark Mafia Romance Evan King, the cruelest millionaire to walk this earth, was shot in front of my innocent eyes. I ran to him without a second thought. I saved his life, holding his thready pulse between my fingers. Willing him to survive, for me. Not even Hell wanted him and he survived. Only to come back and punish the one person to show him mercy. There won’t be any forgiveness for my sin. He’s going to taunt me, ruin me, burn into my light until there’s nothing left but his darkness and him. And I’ll let him. Because no one survives the fight against Evan King. No one. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRYQR657

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Escalate (2)

After some consideration Galeb decides to not follow the Beckoning. Hazel is quick to act and entrusts him with a new task for the Camarilla.

Spoilers for all of Vampire the Masquerade: Swansong.

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,946

Link to Chapter 1

on Ao3

Oh, silver lion, playing my mind Overflow, underflow, lions just everywhere

Should I just leave it alone? It wants to enter my mind

You should not come close but You never had that chance, right?

“You can call me Galeb.”

The music provided them with a certain degree of privacy but also came with a hindrance to speech. Galeb made sure his voice came out loud and clear enough.

A gesture of his hand advised them to sit and he lowered himself onto the cushioned couch as well, adjusting his perfectly fitted black suit in the process.

“In that case, I’m Cyrene Roberts. You can call me Cyrene.” she replied and sat back down across from him, just next to her dark-skinned bodyguard. She raised her hand towards him casually once he was seated as well. “This is James Walker. We work for Mr. Elias Hartwell and represent his business interests.”

“Him too?” Galeb asked, looking towards the aforementioned man in the black suit whose lips in turn curled to a short-lived smile.

“Well, no” Cyrene chuckled softly, her head tilted a little about the slip-up, “It’s mainly me who represents the official business.”

Something in Galeb stirred. The hair on his arms stood upright like that of a mortal, or of an animal, his vitae pumping blood through his veins, reminding him faintly of mortality. But it was something else. It was in her voice, a sense of innocence, purity. Something in her undivided presence stirred him as his body mimicked the one of a human, causing a visceral reaction within him in the process. It was most likely just an image in his head, a distant memory of someone from his mortal life that she reminded him of, a hint of his humanity. The modest white suit with the light blue blouse beneath reflected her demeanour, the black light in the club gave the white colour an illuminating neon effect.

A night club waiter approached their table and Galeb was thrown off guard momentarily, a double-take towards the waiter revealed his state for a split second before they were asked about their order.

Galeb watched his company, silently inviting them to speak up first.

“Gin and tonic please.” the secretary spoke.

“Same” the bodyguard answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The waiter looked at Galeb.

“The usual” he ordered.

The waiter nodded and left at once.

“Come here a lot?” the woman asked, a slight look of surprise on her face.

“Occasionally.” Galeb answered truthfully. “A bit too gaudy for my taste.”

The woman nodded, the hint of a frown on her face.

“I was surprised your company insisted on a meeting in a night club. And at this hour.”

“We could turn this into a dinner meeting anytime.” Galeb spoke, his voice raspy, invoking a slight confused smile on the secretary’s face, distracting from the unreasonably late hour. He knew women all too well and had learned far too much in the past 300 years. Perhaps he could elicit a faint blush on her cheeks.

“I know a place. They serve an excellent medium-rare steak.” As if he remembered what that tasted like.

He watched her like a predator his prey. Indeed the smile that appeared on her lips was one of a flustered woman, although efforts were made to conceal it.

“That-- is not what I meant, Mr. Bazory.”

“Galeb.” he corrected her.

“Of course” she nodded, regaining her composure. “Galeb. No matter -- I appreciate you reached out to us. We would really like to work with you. There is just some-- let’s say precautions we have to take into account.”

“I understand, Miss -- or, Mis’ess? Roberts.” He tested the waters, kindly, softly. With curiosity. He looked at her hands, no ring in sight.

“Miss.” She answered, another confused smile on her lips paired with a frown, but she let it go. “Just Cyrene is fine.”

“Of course.”

“So, I’ve heard there is these assets you want Mr. Hartwell to manage. We would need to know the approximate volume of, well, the assets, contracts, stock portfolios, investments and the like.”

“Of course. Unfortunately I am just the middleman, so I know nothing about these things in particular, not the details anyway. But I would like Mr. Hartwell to meet with one of our people in charge.”

“That--” Cyrene broke in, “That is where my concerns come in. Mr. Hartwell has become very careful with who he lets close to him. There has been some asset managers in the financial world disappearing lately. It’s quite frightening news actually.”

“It is. Although the financial world has always been frightening in that sense.” Galeb remembered his life at sea, how ships were sunken in pursuit of gold and riches.

“That might be true.” Cyrene agreed, then looked up as the waiter returned to their table and served their drinks.

The tonic water in the cocktails the secretary and her bodyguard had ordered showed a similar neon reflection as the woman’s white suit from the effects of the black light. The drink set before Galeb appeared deep red in colour.

“Bloody Mary?” the woman asked curiously, her hand wrapping around her own glass.

“You could call it that. A special recipe, infused with only the best local organic ingredients” Galeb answered. Sometimes he had to hold back a chuckle. Organic. That was what they called it.

Swiftly and soundlessly the waiter had disappeared. The secretary raised her glass and watched the other two who followed suit. Their gazes meeting in understanding served as acknowledgment of table manners. She drank a few sips before she set the glass down on the coaster, the ice cubes falling into place soundlessly against the music of the club.

“To make it a bit more clear, Mr. Hartwell has become sort of reclusive in the past months. He needs a lot of trust to agree to meetings with new clients.”

“Understandable, given the recent events.” Galeb’s fingertip chased a condensed water drop on the outer side of the glass before he raised his gaze. “Would it be considered safe enough for him if you trusted someone and were present for that meeting?”

She met his gaze, stared right into him.

“I suppose. I am not sure. To be honest we haven’t taken any new clients in months. I have proposed some to him but he was not willing to take the risk.”

“He barely leaves his home anymore” James added casually under his breath.

“How does he manage the assets of his clients?” Galeb asked.

“Online mostly. Sometimes conference calls.” Cyrene responded, drawing an instant look of disgust from Galeb’s features. “And sometimes through me.”

James scratched his beard, itching to speak.

“He goes out at times to meet existing clients, but it’s very rare.”

“Yeah” Cyrene recalled, “He was meeting one of his clients a few weeks ago. But it is really rare. Only if his signature is required. But usually that too can be done online.”

“I suppose that makes you the executive.” Galeb concluded.

The woman shrugged and breathed out in half a chuckle.

“I suppose. In theory.” She smiled a little. “Look, Galeb, I’ll get to the point. I would like some statements of your assets first. I want to present them to Mr. Hartwell and see what he says. If you could get in touch with your people in the department that handles these things--”

“Oh, we currently don’t have any department.” he interrupted her matter-of-factly.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. But in any case, recent statements from whoever handles it right now. Anything with big numbers. Nothing confidential of course, just an overview of the approximate amount. And we also do a quick background check on the clients we work with, nothing major though. We don’t mean to invade your privacy.”

“I understand.” the Kindred reassured.

“Great. And I will talk to Mr. Hartwell when I receive the details from you.” she repeated herself, making it vaguely clear that the deal had not been sealed. Her fingers were around her glass again and she raised it and drank from it. James joined her, emptying his glass.

Galeb had been watching his half-downed drink but now his gaze was drawn towards her again.

“I suppose that concludes it.” She looked at James, then at Galeb again. “Oh--”

From her handbag she took out a small leather case and from that a paper card.

“Here is my business card by the way.”

The Kindred took it from her hands and looked at it. She gave him a second before she rose. James followed suit. Slowly Galeb looked up, patient in all the matters that she was hasty with. He took his time but rose eventually and with the business card in his left hand, he held out his right hand across the table.

Cyrene paused, her expression neutral but she reached out, touching his warm hand, a gesture of trust, a firm handshake to seal an unofficial deal. At least that was what it had always been for Galeb in the past centuries.

She let go finally, his fingers lingered, brushing against in inner side of her palm as he was deprived of her touch. Her eyes widened. James walked to the end of the table and let her who was seated behind him out.

Galeb followed them to the end of the table and Cyrene pulled out her wallet. Once more his fingers were laying on her hand; soft, warm, friendly.

“Please” he said, “Let me get it.”

“At least for James’ and my drinks” she insisted, “I didn’t mean to waste your time if this doesn’t work out.”

“Cyrene, please.” His hand ran towards her forearm, once more reassuringly. James' gaze followed him but he did not interfere. “It was my pleasure.”

A moment of hesitation.

“Alright.” she agreed and stored her wallet in her handbag again. “Thank you.”

“There is just one more favour I’d like to ask from you.”

Innocently she looked up at him.

“And that would be?”

He looked at her as if she was the only person in the world. Everything else vanished, she stared into his eyes, unable to pull away. Then his gaze lifted towards James who kept his respectful distance. Galeb took one step closer towards her, his hand raised subtly to touch her arm. He met her gaze once more before he leaned in, his own eyes flashing. His face came closer towards her face and ear but there was enough distance between them to not give a wrong impression. It was just so he could speak against the music without effort, his low voice dominant but calm.

“Have another drink with me at the bar. Right now, right here. We need to get to know each other. Just you and me. James will have to wait outside.”

Emem smirked, visibly trying to hide her amusement but unable to conceal her one-sided smile as she stood at the end of the bar counter and watched Galeb and his associate coming towards her. The woman had shooed her bodyguard away. He had resisted, visibly, with his hands raised signaling confusion, but it only had taken her a moment to convince him to give up and walk off.

Emem’s gaze lowered as she, through her curled lashes, watched the dark-skinned man walk out the doors and noticed Bazory’s hand barely hovering over the side of the woman’s waist, guiding and controlling. Involuntarily Emem shook her head, the smirk still on her lips. Oh, he was playing for keeps. Hazel must have given him quite the task for him to use that subtle trick on neutral ground.