#Opening pipe in border guards

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter 2. Jackson

Please leave comments, I'd love to know your thoughts. And if you feel inclined to reblog, that would be so nice.

Chapter Warnings: cursing, There Will Be Smut, eventually) Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader Plus Size. F!OC was recommended to me since there's a lot of description of her but I'm writing her as You (Reader) so hopefully you can still imagine yourself. Black hair, glasses, tattoos, big body, wears dark clothes, won't stop talking. Joel is tv show Jackson Joel.

Story Summary: Joel just saved your life, begrudgingly. He doesn't know exactly why but he brings you back to Jackson and you ingratiate yourself into his very small circle and his life. This takes place after season 1 of TLOU and season 2 doesn't exist in my brain because no.

Chapter Summary: You meet “the miller family” and get your sleeping arrangements. 1K Words.

Chapter 1 Here

Chapter 2. Jackson

Hours later, you approach the giant wooden gates of “Jackson” the community Joel had told you very little about on your journey here. Joel said approximately three sentences to you the entire time and you were so fucking exhausted you stayed quiet too. Surely to his relief. You see guards with rifles at the top of the gate staring you down and some on the other side of the gate as it opens. You look to Joel with fear and confusion in your eyes to which he just nods. What the fuck is all this, are you being walked to your inevitable execution, has this all been a ploy to get you here to use you for public entertainment, gladiator-style. Why did you agree, at least out there you could starve to death in peace.

Once inside the gates, a man with dark black hair, the same shade as yours but without your gray approaches with a charming smile but also a confused look on his face and he speaks with another southern drawl, “Howdy there, honey, you doin’ alright?” Looking between him and Joel, you realize how similar they look and how the younger man seems like the only person around who isn’t terrified of Joel. Who seems like he must be the town boogeyman by the looks on people’s faces with him around. “I’m Tommy, the handsome younger brother of your walking partner, here.” Again, looking at Joel with the mischievous treachery you imagine he did when the two boys were young, and Tommy was trying get under Joel’s skin.

“I’m uh,” you stumble over your words not sure if you should even tell these people your given name, but before you can decide what to say, Joel answers for you. “This is Ash, found her out there starvin’, alone, figured you could help her. Also, saw a clicker out there, took care of it.” You clock that Joel didn’t mention the clicker almost ripped your head off your neck and that he valiantly saved your life. Interesting, what’s his angle, to hold it over your head, make you think you owe him something. But he’s not even looking at you, he's looking down, avoiding you both. Tommy pipes in, “Okay… just out of the goodness of your heart, for me to help, okay, Joel. Well, Ash. Welcome to Jackson.”

He waves an arm out to the side and behind him to gesture to the town. You realize that you hadn’t even taken in your surroundings inside the gates, too overwhelmed by Tommy and Joel and everything you’re learning about this man who saved you. Jackson is a whole ass working fucking town. Lights, wait, LIGHTS? Electricity…is that a dog, like someone’s fucking pet. Oh my god, food, you smell food. Laughing, holy shit, people laughing. People, lots of them, old people, kids? Is that woman fucking pregnant and smiling and walking over here? “Hi, I’m Maria. I see you met my husband, Tommy.” You look at her stomach again, and her smile and her and Tommy’s hands when they entwine them together and your face, you know, is scrunched in confusion bordering on disgust, “I know, it’s overwhelming, take a deep breath, why don’t we get you something to eat,” Maria says calmly looking you over. Tommy let’s out a chuckle at your facial expression and seems to pick up on the fact that you can’t control your face and that it tells your every thought right on the surface. You nod and let them lead you to the dining hall.

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

You’re seated in a relatively empty dining hall with Maria and Tommy, Joel hanging back by the door like a watch dog or bouncer. Is he protecting the town from you? God, as if you could hurt anyone here, a bit outnumbered. Prick.  You try not to eat like you’re as starved as you are but it’s very difficult. Maria and Tommy smile politely like two leaders that get a lot of enjoyment out of this moment, watching someone eat and relax before their eyes, it’s what they get to provide. It should freak you out but it all just feels so genuine. “JOEL! There you are!” A girl, with a low brown ponytail and a hoodie, who could be described as like Christina Ricci in Now and Then that tapes her boobs down and punches boys for sport, runs up to Joel and hugs him tight. Okay, he has a fucking kid. That hugs him like that and he’s still that big of an asshole? “Hey, hey baby girl,” he says softly petting her hair, “I’m okay, just got caught up in somethin’ out there on my way back but I’m okay, everythin’s okay.”  You can’t tear your eyes away from this absolutely shocking interaction and the girl’s eyes catch you and you quickly go back to eating only to see your plate is empty, so you look back up at Joel and the girl. She slaps his arm as hard as she can, “How long have you been back and why didn’t you come tell me you were here, you dick and who is that woman staring at us?”

You cough, panicked, Maria and Tommy still watching you and sharing knowing smiles like they’re watching a damn play. Joel sternly says, “Ellie. Don’t-.” But she’s already stalking toward you, “Hello there, why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” And you don’t know what comes over you, but you burst out laughing. Like a full belly laugh, tears in your eyes laughing. Maria and Tommy follow quickly and Ellie, eventually starts up to despite trying to act tough moments earlier. Joel makes his way over frowning at all of you like you’ve lost it. Still giggling, you ask, “How the hell do you know that saying it’s from like 30 years ago. People don’t even have cameras anymore; wait, do you guys have cameras here?” Ellie laughs, “I like you, who are you?” “Hi, I’m Ash,” Joel looks up at you when you use his nickname for you, “Nice to meet you. Your dad saved my life from a clicker and brought me here.” Tommy and Maria look stunned at your admission and all three of them whip their heads around to Joel who just clears his throat, frowns and shakes his head.

“He’s not technically my dad but..cool. Well, I’m glad you’re here and not dead,” Ellie smiles big and turns to Joel, shoulder-checking him. “Look at you, ya old softy, saving lives and bringing in newbies, who woulda thought. I’m heading home, see ya later, old man. See you around, Ash!” As Ellie leaves, Joel and you exchange a look, you can’t read exactly what’s going on in those eyes of his but he’s clearly fighting something, maybe he’s pissed you saw him interact like that, soft and nurturing with his daughter. But it wasn’t your fault, you’re just… there. Still feeling his eyes on you is burning you up from the inside, awakening something you haven’t felt in a long, long time. Something that feels an awful lot like desire.

Tommy walks over to Joel and quietly says something you can’t make out. All you hear is Joel saying “No” and Tommy saying “Please” and then Joel sighing, again. Tommy then turns to speak to you, “Look Ash, we’ve got limited space at the moment, we’re working on clearing some small apartments above the shops on main street for people living alone but it’s a few weeks before that’ll be done. For now, we’d like you to stay in the guest room at Joel and Ellie’s. She’s staying in the garage out back so you’ll be in the main house with Joel till we can get you into a new place.” You immediately look at Joel whose eyes are staring daggers at you and if he wasn’t so fucking hot, you might have been scared, but instead you feel the heat of whatever this is between you right at the apex of your legs. Then, your face betrays you, like it always does and all you can do is smirk, you actually fucking smirk at him, and he turns and walks away so fast you almost have to run to catch up.

[darth-mortem]

This is a first chapter of my COD fic "At the Crossroads of the Worlds" translated bu @g8se.

Task force "141" was sent to clean up a secret laboratory, the research of which was financed by states recognized as sponsors of terrorism. The soldiers broke into a bunker located in the Caucasus Mountains on the Russian-Georgian border. At first, everything went according to plan, but after the fighters split up, Ghost came across a strange room, the door of which locked automatically the moment he was inside. Without knowing it, Simon Riley had set off an experiment that had been brewing here for years, and now he would have to be very strong to finally return home.

Chapter 1 of 6. 2084 words.

Past character death, angst, action, secret lab, experiment, parallel worlds

August 15, 2030. Georgian-Russian border. Caucasus Mountains. Coordinates classified. Experiment status: Prepared for the first stage. Research No. 16/3. Reality LW-414/2030. Attempt to transport into reality LW414/2016.

Captain Simon "Ghost" Riley walked slowly down the corridor, illuminated by the bright, cold light of built-in lamps on the walls and ceiling. He held his assault rifle at the ready and listened to the conversations of other members of Task Force 141 through the earpiece of his radio. The unit had split up ten minutes ago, and its members were now inspecting all levels of the bunker, each carrying out their assigned tasks. Some engaged in clearing operations, facing armed guards head-on, while others searched for information and civilian personnel in this classified scientific facility funded by the budgets of several countries - sponsors of terrorism, including Russia, Iran, Palestine, and several others.

Ghost inspected this level of the bunker alone. The commander of Task Force 141, Major Price, had ordered the soldiers to form groups of two or three, but Simon didn’t follow this order. He hadn't followed them for seven years since that fateful day, when a bullet from the Russian terrorist Makarov's pistol took the life of Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish.

For Ghost, John wasn't just a partner or a fellow soldier; he was the one who saw beyond the terrifying skull mask and recognized a human in him. He made Simon feel alive again. John reminded him of how to be happy, laugh, and love. He was Ghost's personal ray of sunshine, and when he was gone, the light went out forever.

Riley couldn't come to terms with it and continue to live a full life. He kept his distance from everyone and didn't even try to socialize with the new members of the unit. People came and went, and Simon didn't even bother to remember their faces. At some point, he considered leaving the army altogether, but then he realized that he didn't know how to do anything else, so he stayed. The only person Simon occasionally spoke to outside of missions was Price. He knew that Simon felt guilty for John's death, which is why he turned a blind eye to Ghost's insubordination, especially considering that he was still the most effective member of Task Force 141.

The doors to his right of swung open, and his reflexes kicked in before his brain. The man in a white lab coat received a devastating blow to the face with the butt of the rifle and fell like a felled tree. Captain Riley dragged him into the room he had emerged from and quickly secured him to a pipe using plastic ties.

“Bravo 0-7, took another one,” Ghost reported over the radio. “Checking the last rooms on the sixth level.”

“Copy, Bravo 0-7,” he heard Price's response. “Try to find out what they were up to. We're almost done clearing the fifth level and heading down to you. Copy?”

“Crystal clear,” Ghost frowned, and the corners of his lips under the mask drooped. “Bravo 0-7, out.”

He didn't need assistance. Riley could handle it on his own and escort the captives. But he never argued with Price during missions. Ghost might not follow his orders, but for other soldiers, the authority of the major had to remain unquestionable.

After surveying the room, Ghost went out and headed towards the last set of doors at the end of the corridor. Behind them, was a desolated room in absolute chaos. Chairs were scattered on the floor, papers strewn about, monitors partially turned off, only a few displaying some unintelligible numbers and symbols that constantly changed each other. There could be something useful here, but before sitting at the computer and attempting to extract information, Ghost moved towards another set of doors in the far corner of the room. These were massive air-tight doors with a complex opening mechanism. Opposite them stood a table with several monitors, and looking at them, Simon understood that one of them seemingly transmitted views from several cameras installed in the room behind the mysterious doors. Why this was necessary, the captain did not understand, as the small room behind the doors was absolutely empty. Its walls were covered in some silvery material, thick wires protruding in places. Also, Riley noticed several panels with small screens and numerous LED indicators.

“Bravo 0-7,” Ghost spoke, examining the locking mechanism of the air-tight doors on the room's interior monitor, “it seems I've found something.”

“What exactly, Bravo 0-7?” Price asked.

“Don't know yet,” Riley replied. “Trying to figure it out.”

“Be careful,” the major said. “Bravo 6, out.”

Simon glanced at the other monitors. Two code designations immediately caught his eye: LW414/2030 and LW414/2016. A progress bar flickered between them, showing ninety-eight percent, followed by calculations of adjustments in meters and, for some reason, in hours. Simon couldn't comprehend what it was exactly because everything was encrypted. He tried to look at the papers, but it was even worse, so without further delay, Riley approached the air-tight doors and pulled the lever of the opening mechanism.

As soon as he entered the small square room, Simon smelled the electrified air. An orange light started flashing above the door, and instead of the voices of the soldiers he heard a buzzing noise of interference in his earpiece. Some contour that ran around the entire perimeter of the room opened after the doors were unlocked and now lit up in red. A mechanical female voice from a speaker hidden somewhere in the wall began to repeat something persistently in a language Ghost did not know, and then the doors automatically closed, and the lever of the mechanism moved into the "locked" position. The contour closed, its colour changed from red to green, and the voice from the speaker said something else, after which it started a countdown.

“Fucking hell,” Riley cursed, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and rushing towards the doors. “Bravo 0-7 calling Bravo 6! Bravo 6, can you hear me?”

There was no response. There wasn't even interference, just dead silence. Ghost grabbed the lever, tried to turn it, but all in vain, despite the fact that the captain was a very physically strong person.

The electrifying sensation intensified. The air distinctly smelled of ozone, and sparks began to run along the walls following complex and tangled contours. Riley retreated to the centre of the room, gritting his teeth. The room was too small to blast the doors, and they were so massive that it might not work anyway. The countdown continued, electrical discharges intensified, and then Ghost saw how the laces of his boots lifted into the air. The same happened with other elements of his gear – at first with smaller items, but gradually even heavier objects, like his assault rifle, which the lieutenant grabbed by the strap and pulled towards himself.

“Bravo 6,” Ghost tried once more without any hope, “John, can you hear me? Respond!”

The captain felt his feet lifting off the floor, where lines of contours were also glowing. Numbers and symbols appeared on the screens of the panels, all indicators lit up green, and then the accumulated static turned into a powerful electrical arc that pierced Ghost's body, sending him into oblivion.

Consciousness returned to him slowly but surely. Riley felt the cold wind piercing through his clothes and gear. Somewhere nearby, he could hear rumbling, and these sounds seemed familiar, but Ghost couldn't recall what exactly could be the source.

Captain Riley could only open his eyes on the third attempt. Above him was the overcast sky shrouded in led clouds. He lay on the ground, arms outstretched, listening to the rumbling of... the helicopter rotor!

Simon didn't understand what was happening. He remembered being trapped in a small room deep underground in the bunker. He remembered something strange happening to him, a jolt of wildly powerful electricity, and... he found himself here. And now, as he slightly raised himself and looked around, Ghost realized where exactly this "here" was. The landscape around him was familiar – it was what the members of Task Force 141 saw when they landed and headed towards the entrance to the bunker. Perhaps, Major Price or someone from the team managed to open those doors from the outside. They found Ghost in the blackout and brought him to the surface. So, the helicopter he hears is their evacuation transport.

Having reasoned this way, Ghost stood up, hoisted his assault rifle, and headed towards the sound. Of course, it was strange to be left alone here, but perhaps the soldiers were occupied with captives, and someone went for supplies. Captain Riley, however, felt better, and overall quite normal for someone who got electrocuted. The radio was still silent, but Simon had already climbed a small hill, saw the helicopter, and people around. Captain Riley was about to shout that he was okay when suddenly he realized that these people were not members of Task Force 141. Moreover, it seemed they were enemies. They surrounded two soldiers, one of whom seemed to be seriously injured. The other was supporting him on his shoulders and wouldn't have time to grab his weapon when one of the men – presumably the leader – pulled out his pistol and pointed it at his chest.

Simon didn't know what was happening, but he saw a patch with the British flag on the sleeve of the man the other was aiming at. Without thinking for another second, Captain Riley swung his assault rifle off his shoulder, released the safety, and, chambering a round, fired a short burst into the air, drawing attention to himself.

They started to shoot at Ghost, so he ran, ducking and returning fire, and when the distance closed, he pulled out and threw several metal knives one after another, reducing the number of enemies. The soldier with the British flag carefully laid his comrade on the ground and remained by his side, also starting to return fire. Now Ghost could see his balaclava with a skull print and the bald head of the enemy leader, who, realizing that something had gone awry, was trying to retreat to the helicopter.

"Hey, you!" Ghost found himself next to the guy in the balaclava and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Kill the pilot! Come on, let's go!"

He nodded and ran around the helicopter. Captain Riley stayed with the wounded soldier and quickly replaced the magazine in his rifle. Meanwhile, the bald man turned around, raising his pistol again, and Ghost froze, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Shepherd?" he finally exclaimed. "It can't be!"

After Johnny’s death, Price himself killed the traitor of a general with his own hands, yet here he was, staring at Ghost with a cold gaze and aiming a pistol at him.

A gunshot echoed. The bullet hit Simon in the chest, but it didn't get through the armoured plate. Captain Riley, purely on reflexes, returned fire. A burst from his assault rifle tore through Shepard's body, and he fell. Another soldier in a balaclava was already running toward Riley, wielding his weapon.

"Shepard is a traitor!" he shouted. "I just received a message from the captain!"

"We need to get out of here," Ghost got up, rubbing his chest. "Let's carry your friend into the heli. Provide him with first aid. I'll take the pilot's seat. Just tell me where to fly."

Two soldiers, both hiding their faces behind skull masks, picked up the third one and brought him into the helicopter. The situation was strange, even wild, but Simon strangely felt neither suspicion nor doubt towards his new companion. On the contrary, this man seemed eerily familiar and inspired absolute trust in Simon. And it appeared that the guy in the balaclava felt the same way about Riley. He didn't ask who his unexpected rescuer was or where he came from, haven’t even asked for Ghost's name. However, Ghost didn't waste time on etiquette either. After receiving the coordinates for the flight, Riley focused on piloting the helicopter, glancing at the dashboard. Somewhere there, they would meet a captain, likely the leader of these two soldiers. Most likely, he could clarify the situation and provide Ghost with information about what happened to TF 141 and where to find them.

“We’re almost there,” Ghost reported, having replaced his dead radio with the one that belonged to the pilot of this helicopter. “How's your friend?”

“Solid,” came the response. “Our guys are already waiting, so land here!”

“Roger that,” Riley replied briefly and started to land, glancing at the two soldiers who were waving at the helicopter.

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #17: Sally

He looked behind him for a moment. That stretch of woods that turned to sands just out of view. A series of quick-built cabins of wood and whatever remnants might still be left behind by the last. He could see every ilm of memory draped across the place like a patchwork spiderweb; as if the mites had already moved in by the time he’d taken a few steps beyond the borderline. Something, he knew, was supposed to be calling him backwards. To unsteady his already few steps. To make him look and question and wonder as the mornlight sun began to creep through the treeline and ask him the simplest thing- “Where to?”

He shouldered a bag as he stepped out from the old tent into the noonlight. He shielded his eyes against the glare that managed to pierce through the shroud and land directly on his face- an insult from the gods if he’d ever felt one. Tents, shelters, and lean-tos filled his blinkered vision as he meandered his way around various familiar faces. Friends, maybe not, but familiar nonetheless. The patchwork of memories settling across the camp and its fire like a hastily made quilt. Something too fragile to really use. To really keep. To hold that close and keep warm. Something in him should’ve spoken hesitation as today’s guard gave him a smile that whispered of a happier time shared. Should’ve made him stop and count his steps out of the border wall. Should’ve blocked out the sun and refused to listen to that question. He shouldn’t have.

He took a long drag off the thin pipe before setting it aside. The sea breeze, salt-sweet and filling the cuts on his skin, carried away the smoke like it had burned out a thousand years of cobwebs in an indecisive mind. A half-read letter lay on the desk on the other side of the room and he could hear it shivering like a forgotten lover. His clothes lay strewn across the floor, fluttering in time with the letter. They were pushed aside in time with his thoughts, his decision, his order. His gentle hands moved to lift an old box, an old bag, an old friend. The evelight sun glinted like a lament off a polished piece of steel, off a piece of obsidian, off a blackened heart that lay separate from his own. He stared at all of it blankly like the shine of the sea. Some small voice should’ve been asking him a question. Something that shivered in the wind. Something that would’ve looked him in both his eyes and shown him what he was meant to see. He brushed away the webs.

He woke up a dead man when he’d finally crossed his way out of the wood. He went to sleep a dead man when he managed to make his way on board a ship. Moonrise into a damaged eye and salty air into deep wounds were enough to convince him that the rocking of the boat wasn’t yet the embrace of a grave. Enough to convince him to wake up, just for a moment, and take in a breath. Nothing but the sea ahead. Nothing but his tracks behind. Blood covered tracks, ill kept life, worn out eyes that could barely see a single malm ahead. All he could make out was the water. All he could make out was the moon. He rested his eyes on the railing as it rolled beneath him.

The explosion nearly killed him on the spot- between his bleeding ears, the fire across his back, the chunks of stone and metal blown past them both and nearly skinning him alive. But she was safe. He’d survive. And there was only one way to go. She was in his grip, in his arms, and out the hole in the wall into open air. Salt-sweet. Cobwebbed. But falling free through it and down, down, down into the cold and welcoming sea below. As welcoming as salt water could be to an addled man who was now more wound than mind. To take the nearest boat, she dragged him on, and burning away more of it all as he rowed it into the dark of the night and away from yet another city covered thin in moth-eaten memories. He could barely see them.

He looked behind them for a moment. That stretch of woods that turned to a river just out of view. A once-lived-in cabin built of wood and whatever remnants left by the last they’d used to patch it up. It hadn’t been long. He wasn’t there, he was sure, for most of it. But he could see strands looped between the door and the path away. He could see patchwork quilts of her own draped across the spot on the overlook beyond. He could watch the web stretch out towards the spot he’d marked as a grave, silver threads in the moonlight. He watched the threads burn.

Dugald slowly woke to a gentle hand running through his hair, running through its parting, running along the braids it so diligently always made for him. There were distant sounds of animals, of people, of some large machine clanking along a path now familiar. His second heart beat against his chest in that slow, ugly rhythm of memory like a stone weighed down. That gentle hand whispered to him, quiet quiet, and placed a palm over his eyes. Slowly pressed them closed once more. He could feel the sunset evelight on his skin. He could hear it for the first time in so long. A simple question. He fell asleep on her lap. She shielded his eyes.

[blindrapture]

SATURDAY JULY 23RD, 2011 (Goodbye, Swamp Queen)

5:40 AM Man, we passed out. We're still on the rooftop. The colors in the sky are noticeably different. A lot more reds this time. "What did you dream of?" Uh? Like. Seeing a haunted house? There was a ghost that startled me. Why, what did you dream of? "There was a face looking into my dream from behind a wall. Like a snake's face. I could feel it was there, because it didn't feel like it belonged in my head at all." Uh. Okay. Maybe we should get moving early today, then.

5:41 AM Went down the stairs, but the stairs leading further are blocked by a door that won't budge. We've gotta go looking around storage. It's still all.. y'know... boxes and mannequins. But there's more rooms. god I'm yawning

5:42 AM okay we've checked a lot of doors. what are we. looking for? "another way down." I'm just seeing a ton of boxes. some, like, metal pipe scaffolding, stuff that you can build makeshift stores out of. a stack of flyers. NO STEALING! NO ABUSE OF STAFF! VIOLATORS WILL BE PUT INTO STORAGE. huh. well luckily, we just had free samples last night, we didn't steal anything.

5:43 AM "Dammit. There's nothing. Maybe there's a key in one of the boxes, but there's way too many boxes to just go searching blindly." Yeah, I'd rather we not do that. And what if the key's not even up here but on some security guard downstairs? Or someone who's gone home! "But then what? We're not climbing down this building on the outside. I don't have the grappling hook anymore, y'know!" We might have to try and cross the border ourselves, now that we've had the rest. "And potentially get into a shootout with the new border patrol." Potentially. "sighhhh. okay, yeah."

5:44 AM ..the way back is blocked by a lot of mannequins. "Where did they..?" Is someone in here with us? "Aaaah!" now there's mannequins behind us. "Jordan, it's the mannequins! They're moving by themselves!" I've gathered that now! Stay back! Or, like, talk to us! We don't want to fight! now the ones by the stairs are closer. okay donnie, back-to-back, they move when we're not looking. "No, they're still moving! I can see them!" well then I guess we forced their hand. Stay back!!! For fuck's sake!! We have weapons! .."please kill us." what? "use your weapons. please. kill us." it's a garbled and muffled voice. from within the mannequins. do we. do we have to? ..a mannequin grabbed donnie's gun. dragged the barrel to its own forehead. "kill us."

6:33 AM There were a lot of them. It took about a dozen whacks in the head to kill the first one, and then once one had died, suddenly the doors to the staircase opened up, and all the mannequins from the other storage floors came up asking for a piece. So we worked together, Donnie whacking with her rifle, me with Tiger Stripes. (We were not going to waste the last of our ammo on this. We would have had to switch to whacking shortly in anyway.) And, steadily, we cleared the floors until there was nothing left asking for death. I can't say this was the.. most pleasant experience, but. We made it to the mall proper. The lights are off right now. I guess it's not a 24-hour mall. But that's okay. We're just looking for a Door.

6:35 AM "Score!" rabbit hole? "Crisps! Beef jerky! Fruit! Ready-to-eat food!" oh shit! are there any slim jims? grab what you can! "I'm grabbing plastic bags! You get some drinks!"

6:39 AM What about this hallway here? It looks unnaturally long for what the building's like on the outside. "Gotta be! Let's go!"

6:40 AM End of the longgg hallway. There's a door here. Here we go. On the other side will be another world, or maybe we'll be back on Earth. :D … It's a security office. Two big beady-eyed prawn-men in uniforms, who had previously been watching us steal food via the monitors in front of them, are now turned around, looking right at us. This was not a rabbit hole door.

6:41 AM RUNNING FROM THE LAW

6:42 AM ducking in a clothing store

6:43 AM I think we bamboozled them "jordan…" oh. this is a clothing store. the mannequins are all looking at us. uh. shhhhh! we're not here! you didn't see us! … also, um. do you guys happen to know the way out?

6:44 AM they pointed us to the bathroom across from the clothing store. we're. sneaking. across. looking around for security. trying to be reaaaal quiet with our bags. … OKAY WE'RE IN but this is still just the bathroom. option for male and female. uh. do we each try one? donnie wants us to stick together. okay. let's. eenie meenie miney mo? men's bathroom.

6:45 AM MEDICAL EQUIPMENT, GAGGED CUSTOMERS ON TABLES, BINS FILLED WITH DISCARDED SKIN, EMPTY MANNEQUIN SHELLS WAITING TO BE FILLED WITH MEAT AND SHRIMP-MEN WITH BONESAWS AND BLOOD-SPLATTERED VISORS LOOKING RIGHT AT US

6:46 AM So that was the wrong room. It was the women's restroom that was the rabbit hole. Simple mistake. Now we're stepping out in a T.J. Maxx. The lights are off here too, but at least the exit is right there, leading out to Earth, where it should.

6:48 AM We're here! On Earth!! Outside! In the red sky!

6:50 AM A little looking-around told us we're in a town called Fresno. At first I thought that was an Italian restaurant, but, no, it's a place! In California. And with a T.J. Maxx comes a parking lot, and with a parking lot comes the chance of hotwiring a working car!

6:54 AM SUCCESS WE ARE ON THE MOVE AGAIN EVERYTHING'S COMING UP MILHOUSE

7:15 AM Reached a town called Kernan.

7:20 AM It's all the same, deserted streets, a notable lack of cars except for the occasional broken-down hunk. We've been passing a lot of graffiti, and I've made sure to slow down so I can write it down. "CALIFORNIA DYING OF FEAR" "LISTEN TO THE STOMPING SIRENS: FUCK IT ALL, JUST DANCE" there are a lot of drawings of what I'm pretty sure are Legsteps o_o "MY DADDY'S GOT A GUN, YOU'D BETTER RUN" "DRAW A STAIRWAY FOR MY GOD TO SPITE THE SOFA OF MY FAITH" "WHAT DID DOCTOR CLOUD DISCOVER IN THE GENERA?" "^ Answers." "JORDAN DOOLING WITH THE TRILBY HAT" "JORDAN DOOLING WITH THE TRILBY HAT" "HEY JORDAN WITH THE TRILBY HAT" "WHERE IS JORDAN WITH THE TRILBY HAT" I'm seeing that message in a lot of hands. This has got to be what EAT was talking about. And I see it, I just don't get it. Donnie's grabbing my hand. "We're gonna find out together. I've got your back, and you've got mine." Yeah. :)

7:36 AM With no sign of people anywhere, I think we'd best keep moving. Leave this town. We've gotta look for people.

7:52 AM Lots of vultures in the sky again. "Look! On the side of the road! A hitchhiker?" They're looking at us, but I mean, we're a moving car, we're a rare sight. They don't have any bags, or any broken car, or even any visible weapons. It's just some woman in greasy plaid. "...she's walking into the road." Well, roll your window down so we can talk, but I don't plan on stopping. "Hey! Are you okay?" ...she's. still walking out into the road. and when I slowed down, so did she. I think she's planning on "WHAT THE FUCK" SHE OPENED ONE OF OUR BACK PASSENGER DOORS AND JUST CLIMBED IN "EXCUSE ME WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING" "I have looked into it further." What? donnie "WHAT?" stopping the car. "The graffiti has many copycats by now. I believe some unrelated humans assumed it was some kind of inside joke or quote and are spreading it." donnie "Hey! Hey! Who the fuck are you, get out of our car! I have a gun! You stink like a wet dog!" she is looking at us, or, past us? hard to tell. Are you.. Salmacis? a very mechanical smile. "You remembered." oh THANK FUCK donnie's annoyed but is a lot less alarmed. "Okay, can you not do that kind of thing again?" "You were in a moving vehicle. I was not going to be able to communicate everything in a brief few seconds as you passed by. If you wish to resume driving, we can talk on the way." donnie and I are looking at each other

7:53 AM Donnie's driving now, I'm in the passenger seat so I can talk with EAT. And they've scooted over to the opposite side so they can see me better. Um. Hello, Salmacis! "Disarming greetings." How.. have you been? I like your.. Camper… donnie "it fucking stinks" well I think she's kinda pretty "This was the nearest body on hand. I have been observing, inquiring, learning, as well as some other activities you are best ignorant of." o_o "Understand, I mean that not out of a desire to keep you in the dark. The other activities have involved a lot of killing. You asked." I.. asked how you've been. donnie "you're not gonna get a good answer. it's not a human." "Actually. I have been scared." o__o "I am not used to not knowing something this large. The nature of Rapture. The changes coming to my planet. I am not used to feeling scared." It's a rotten feeling, but if you can get past it, you get a lot of adrenaline! "I am used to adrenaline. Each of my bodies has its own chemical rhythms, and adrenaline is easy to trigger. I am not used to not knowing. This is something of incredible size merging with us. This is not a force of military might, or even a new Fear, I am used to dealing with those. This is…" An entire universe. "..it is?" You, uh. You didn't know that one? "It had occured to me as a possibility. Where did you hear this?" Oh, god. Tiresias, definitely. But there was a guy in New York too, who was the first to tell us. A government guy. "They're holding back from me. The government does not surprise me, but Tiresias? He can normally be trusted. Do you know of his certainty?" Uh! Not necessarily? It could have just been the closest way of explaining it to us at the time. Or. .… sigh. let me just show you the journal.

8:07 AM Got my journal back. "Appreciated." You're.. ...you're welcome, EAT. o: (donnie's tensing up. she's.. dammit, I know.) "I see what you mean. It may have been a lie-to-children. However, it strikes me as close to the truth. This would explain why I cannot enter Xanadu myself." It would? Wait, you can't? "Whenever a Camper enters a Door, it blacks out, and I lose that body entirely. I have never recovered one of these bodies." ...Indisen… "The presence of Indisen on Earth, outside of the Doors, complicates it for me. I would have expected my lost bodies to become the cadavers that they should be and just fall over on the spot. I would have expected all my missing Camper to be corpses in Xanadu. But they are not." Is this also what the Camper Festival is? Because you don't know about that either. And it's a whole bunch of Camper, in Xanadu, doing their thing. "These are all connected, I am positive of that." donnie "This is all fascinating, but, what about the graffiti here in California? Someone's looking for Jordan. And, hell, we're here now. Should we be worried? Threatened? Should we leave?" Yeah, EAT, you're kinda the only reason we're here. ...another smile. o_o <_< >_> … ouo?

"There is someone here in California who claims to know you. I have met him, though it was fleeting. He gave his name as Derek Taylor." Derek?? Really?? O: "You know the name, then." He's!!! I mean, if he's who he says he is... then he's someone I know!! Someone I would want to meet! Then! Where? Where did you meet him? "I met him in San Francisco, though I have no reason to be certain he is still there." Argh! But why? Doesn't he know the first rule of asking someone to meet you somewhere??? "I'm just the messenger on that one. He said to tell you he would either be in San Francisco or Los Angeles." Huh. Okay, that's.. helpful! "I said I would look into it, and I did." smiling again. "This is, as you put it, the overture of our continued friendship." !!! :D ...car swerved. donnie definitely didn't like that. I mean. right. I am.. pleased you are approaching this so respectfully. "We have no reason to obstruct one another. Everything I have seen from you, from both of you, suggests you are an ally. Victoria, do you hear me too?" I think that's you, donnie she said "I'm listening, yes." "You are unsure of whether to trust me. I respect your trepidation; it has worth as a survival instinct. I do not believe I can simply talk my way into your good graces. But, if you two are willing to remain in California for a few days, I will earn your trust through action."

"...there's something you've failed to address." "What's that?" "Why? Why do you, the all-powerful god of whatever, want us to trust you? What are you planning on doing that is going to require our trust? I mean, require, to the point that you can't just do it anyway without us?" "I can learn from you. I have already been learning from humans by observing at a distance. For more years than there are numbers, I have been doing that, I found comfort in it. Normally, when threats come, they are nothing to me, and I can just watch humans die to it. I grew comfortable in that too. But everything has changed and will continue to change, and for once it's something that is a threat to me, to my continued existence. I cannot just keep going by the motions. I need to change my approach. I wish to try." ...donnie is silent. "I am making no effort to attack either of you. Do you acknowledge that?" "I do." "Do you have any more questions for me?" "Yeah. Why does your body stink so bad? You had vultures following you, y'know." "Those vultures were Camper." "What?!" what?! "As long as a body can contain my water, it is a valid vessel. Birds can travel faster than humans and gather information unheeded. As you have demonstrated, they do not arouse suspicion easily." donnie, I just, I fucking love this thing she rolled her eyes "As for the stink, it's probably because this Camper had been dormant in a pile of mud for the last several months." "Well. Thanks for.. getting in our car." "Sarcasm noted. I'm learning what you dislike." "Lesson for the future: Very, very few humans like that." ...........…<__<;;;;;

8:14 AM and, as abruptly as it entered, salmacis opened a door and just fell out of the car. donnie's breathing sighs of relief and I'm just.. hand on the window.... goodbye, swamp queen.…

8:29 AM Town of Madera. We've stopped to get our bearings. Maybe also to air out the car a bit.

8:30 AM "So." ...yeah? "I don't.. get it. But it is here. And it wants to help us. Says it does." It told us that Bones is here. "Bones?" Derek. "Wasn't he.. some friend of yours from Georgia?" My best friend. We stayed at his house, and he wasn't there. I had hoped he wasn't dead. And he's here, in.. one of two cities. "We need to find a road map for California. We need to start checking some buildings. Figure out which city is closer."

8:41 AM trolling around, checking the buildings that might be of help. hotels. government buildings. if we can find a damn Publix or something, those have tons of magazines near the entrance. Donnie's checking out buildings on foot, but I said I'd take the car to look in the other direction. because I.. don't mind.…

8:48 AM there's donnie, shouting and waving for me. I think she's found one.

8:49 AM she did. and we're sitting inside this book store now, looking at the map.

8:52 AM "Right. So. We're actually in a good spot here. San Francisco and Los Angeles are both.. really close." Oh, neat! "However, they are in opposite directions. We can either go 3 hours north and hit San Francisco, or 3 hours south and hit Los Angeles." And so, if he's not in one, it's 6 hours in the other direction. Okay. That doesn't sound too bad. "God, I really hope we didn't go all this way for him to just say 'nice hat' and that's it..."

8:54 AM jesus, okay, yeah, the car does still.. reek. we'll... leave it a bit longer. there's no time limit on all this.

2:22 PM We slept for longer than intended, in the cover of the bookstore, but we kept our stuff with us, and if anyone came by, they weren't interested in our car. So we ate some of our snacks and got on the road again! I'm driving.

4:50 PM "Slow down, do you see that?" It's San Francisco. With a very blatant dome of blue sky above it. Little specks are flying around the sky. "Those must be the Ants. I wish I could make them out from here…" The RAF, or the Anonymous going by the name of the RAF, must have amassed here as well, then. This will probably be another place that cares about money. "Shit."

4:52 PM We were almost considering turning back and trying Los Angeles first when we saw another hitchhiker coming for our car. This one wasn't EAT, though. It's a young woman named Evi who was trying to get to an RAF meetup before her transport got grabbed by "the Morphs."

4:53 PM The Morphs are the bird Fear. I've seen them come out of lightning, Donnie's seen them swirl around and change the landscape, and now apparently Evi's seen them grab whole cars and carry them away.

4:54 PM She's trying to join the California branch of the Anon squad. They're going to stage an attack on the rich people who live in San Francisco and are calling for all volunteers. "Didn't you hear? The billionnaires are partnering up with the Fears and causing the red sky!" I.. don't think that's true. But we'll drive her to this meetup.

5:30 PM Well, much like Las Vegas, this place looks quite safe. There are some zombies in the streets, but they're not even hostile, they're just stumbling around. Maybe the Fears are in cahoots here?

5:34 PM The signage around here is rather consistent in calling this Sanctuary Francisco. Evi says that's legit. The name was changed. That keeps it consistent with New Sanctuary. I guess it's good advertising.

5:41 PM She's directed us to a semidetached little house. Donnie had a nap on the way here, but she's awake now. We're gonna go in and see.

5:44 PM There's only a handful of people here. The leader, as pleased as can be to see new volunteers, is a lady named Heaven. There's also a gruff dude named Cody, who cannot keep his eyes off Donnie. There’s three teenagers in Guy Fawkes masks, too. Tiger, Winston, and Jackie. This is about as American a group as it gets.

5:46 PM Hey, Heaven. So you guys are.. with Anonymous? "They're not really called that anymore. They're just Rise Against Fear." Yeah, but. There's already a branch of the military called that. shrug "News to me." Okay. And. Evi told us, on the way over here, that.. the Fears are allied with billionaires? "Oh yes. There's a lot of documentation on this from leading members. I subscribe to the idea that the Fears are actually bribing the rich, as they correctly identified that's the language they'd listen to most, but that when the Fears have completed their plans, they'll just kill them all anyway." Right. That's a reasonable supposition. But do you guys think.. the rich caused the red sky? "100%. It's all the pollution, it's finally caught up with us." ......right. You got beverages here? I am parched!

5:50 PM god they're utterly clueless. oh, uh. hey. tiger, right? "hey." I'm jordan. "hey jordan." how's it. how's it going. "boring." yeah. I get that. "do you want to ditch this place? there's a party going on a couple blocks away." oh. really? are you sure that's, like. okay? "yeah. heaven and cody have a plan they need us for, but that's not gonna be ready for a couple days. I just came here to get my DS." oh fuck, what model? "it's the 3DS! it just came out this year! it's so cool, it's like 3D movies but without the glasses!" ohhhh!!!! dope!!!! "do you have one?" oh god no! I have an old DS. "like a DSi, or a DS Lite, or...?" the. the old one. the first one. "oh..... damn. grandpa gaming." don't you go there! we'll go toe-to-toe, and I can get really rowdy! "haha! so, I'm about to head to the party with jackie and wince. do you want to come with?" yeah! let me just go get donnie, and we'll follow you.

5:53 PM Donnie's talking with that Cody guy. Hey! Hey, Donnie. c: "Hi! Jordan! Let me, um. You're not gonna believe this." What, does he have a 3DS too? "This is Cody. Or, as I knew him, CodeMaster64. He was my ex." Oh! Wow! Damn! "I know!" cody "And you are?" I'm.. DJay32. I mean. I'm Jordan. Donnie and I came all the way from England. "To come here? Did even England hear about us?" Oh! No! No, Anonymous are kinda obscure; I feel like I'm more famous. We came here looking for "Well, who the fuck are you?" I'm! The White Jester. I probably shouldn't have said that. "That... name is familiar. Okay, I'll admit, I've heard the name. Can't place where..." I'm sorry for!! Insulting the RAF. A lot is happening right now. I came to get Donnie. donnie "What's happening?" a party. few blocks away. "..that does sound like fun…" cody "Go on, Don. We'll talk more later."

5:57 PM ON THE WAY TO A PARTY

9:16 PM It was, indeed, a party. Mostly young people who have nothing else to do. The music's a little too bland for my tastes, or, at least, I'm not familiar with most of it, so I found where all the gamers were hanging out and spent time there. :3 Donnie's gonna head back to the house, but I'm gonna stay a little longer.

9:32 PM "FEAR AT THE DOOR!" everyone's freaking out

9:33 PM It's a. It's a zombie. A single zombie.

9:34 PM "HE KILLED THE FEAR!" "THIS GUY'S AWESOME!" Thank you, thank you. -w- I guess I can get used to this crowd. :D

11:10 PM Got back. Heaven's got a cot for me to sleep in. Donnie was waiting for me. We're gonna spoon... .w. This place isn't bad. It's kinda a little piece of the world that was, frozen in time. And if everyone here is helpful, we'll be able to find Bones-- or confirm that he's not here, so we can move on! Maybe even pretty quickly.

11:11 PM I just.. I wish that this place really is, I wish that it isn't too good to be true.

(Attached: “I don’t care what anyone thinks of me for writing this note, but I can’t ever think back to these times without cringing and wanting to cry. I don’t know how I made it out of all this alive, and how I managed to get into the mess in the first place is an even murkier subject. I don’t like spending too much time thinking about it, though, as I don’t want to fall back into that rabbit hole. It's a nonlinear subject, though, as those memories have been written over with words. In the end I, like him, was able to create. Right now it's undecided if I’ll be able to create my way out of this pit, but I am still creating context, meaning to these memories. I doubt I’ll be able to do what he does and create life, create sound, create the very idea of magnificence itself, but at least I’m able to create a reason to live out of the ruins of my spiritual death. At least I'm able to create HCEAT.”)

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[flower-zombie-rob]

late night’s are for sleeping

Another little irissona fic because I literally cannot help myself they're so fun to write as little snippets and tidbits. Hope you enjoy! This one is, once again, featuring @geekyfox2‘s character, the iris employee Geeky. This is another super wholesome one so no trigger warnings or anything like that, just cute, fluffy character interactions. Enjoy and feel free to ask any questions about the character, I’d love to talk about them more!

The twilight moon shone through the window of R’s room in the dead of night. R called it a room, in its basic form it was more of a cell, but that didn’t matter all that much when it was decorated like a room. How the iris employees had lugged soft, ikea furniture through the doors of the security-tight facility was still a mystery to them. Nonetheless, the hour on the clock was long past midnight, which sprung a surprise for R as they were tentatively listening the the quiet hums of computer fans and the gently putter-pattering of laptop keys from a room somewhere along the hallway. Someone was hard at work, an odd occurrence down this end of the facility at this late hour. The only ones usually required to be down here this late are security guards, and they're not needed half the time either, being suspended on R’s good behavioural record for an ALTR in containment. They wondered who it could be, sitting in one of the occupied office rooms, slaving away at a desk while the moon was high. After a while of sleepless speculation, the energised ALTR realised they were far too curious to fall asleep contently. 

They stood up and rustled around in their cupboard for the emergency access card they’d been given, in case they desperately needed something or injured themselves while no one was around. They scanned the card at the door lock and watched as it chirped. There was a subtly click and the door slid open with a gentle push. R peeped their head around the gap in the door, taking their first step into the unknown darkness of the hallway without their rooms subtle highlight bathing the walls in purple. They shuffled nervously past the doors to their left and caught sight of a blue light emanating from the underneath of an office employee door. They sped up, tip-toeing towards the door and pending it tantalisingly slowly, worried of the prospect of getting into worlds of trouble.

Takeaway food packaging lined the eft side of the desk, post-it-notes littered around the computer so that the border of the glowing screen was barely visible anymore. Scrunched-up paper notes and pens were scattered haphazardly over the sleek white tiles of the office and the typing of the keys felt more fatigued from up close. Geeky sat, clearly oblivious of the time or simply ignorant to it, typing away at what must have been some overdue work, scratching at the walls to Finnish a deadline she was desperate to reach. Her glasses messily sliding down her face and hear hair messy, she didn’t even notice the young ALTR saunter in, still fulling engaging her tired attention on the unfinished work. She’d pulled an all-nighter, as the rest of the employees R knew had told them about. Apparently Geeky was notorious for working herself into exhaustion and burnout, as R was now observing. They were the only two who seemed awake this side of the facility, the only two creating noise of any sort. R decided to pipe up in friendly concern.

“Geeky?”

R let out a shriek as they were attacked in a flash by a very clearly startled Geeky, having a taser threaten them a little too close for comfort. The moment the scientist observed who it was, though, she quickly disarmed herself and adjusted her glasses.

“Jesus, R, you scared the life out of me!” She said, putting the taser ack in her lab coat pocket.

“Sorry… why you awake?” R asked, shuffling closer.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she stood as she spoke. “You should be tucked into bed, you have a medical check tomorrow.”

“Was worried about you.” The murmured, tugging on the scientists sleeve.

“I’m fine, just catching up on work. Come with me we’ll get you back to bed. Don’t be using that card to come and check on me, it’s for emergencies only.”

She held the ALTR’s hand and took them back to their room, sitting them on their comfortable bed. As Geeky went to leave, she felt something grasping her am, pulling her back towards the bed with unexpected strength for an ALTR so weak-looking. She found herself looking down at R on the bed, holding onto her arm with a firm grip.

“Stay.”

She let out a small sigh, trying to hide a slight annoyance.

“Why, R?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“You need sleep, R.”

“So do you!”

“I’m working, sweetie.”

“But late nights are for sleeping.”

She was shocked to be suddenly yanked down, falling unceremoniously backwards onto R’s bed(which he had to admit was kind of the exact comfortable bed she needed right now with her burnout). She scrambled to sit up normally, not wanting to risk the clumsy ALTR falling off the bed while trying to stop her from standing. She gave up and laid down.

“There, happy?”

R dunked themselves down beside her, hugging her and pulling the covers over the too. They gave a happy nod and snuggled up to the employee in, what Geeky inferred, was another way to keep her from getting back to her work. She gave up fighting against the ALTR and just let herself chill out for the first time in days.

“I’ll get up in a minute and go back to work, I just need to know you get to sleep.” She yawned.

R hummed in response and cursed their little body tighter towards the. Scientist for warmth, the scientist who was currently stuck in the most comfortable place she’d been in weeks. She decided, if not for a vert long time, she’d just tale a quick nap. I mean, she thought to herself, whats the point of inefficiently staying awake to wait for R to settle for the night when I could get re-energised to finish the rest of the work?

“I’m only sleeping for a minute, okay?”

“M’kay.” Replied R, closing their eyes and settling into a long night of making sure their friend got a good night of sleep. And as much as Geeky would object to R’s interference with her busy work schedule, deep down, she’d be quite happy with R finally making sure she took care of herself, even if it was just for one night. And, well, just as R told them earlier… late nights are for sleeping. They both closed their eyes and drifted off.

Thanks so much for reading if you made t this far! I had a random blast if inspiration and I wanted to even further develop the relationship between R and Geeky because I think as a duo, also from my last irissona fic, they make a very sweet pair of friends. Something about the workaholic scientist and the carefree  baby boi(tm) makes my writing urges go brrrrr. Anyway, check out the rest of the irissona group on blogs like @glass-trash-bab @intothebutterflyburrow @bondedostae @ratwhowrites and more(there’s so many of you i need a list somewhere of which ones have interacted with R and which ones haven’t to be honest).

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible

by J.R. Miller

Power Through the Spirit (Zechariah 4:1-14)

The visions of Zechariah all have a meaning. This one is of a candlestick supplied by olive trees. “Then the angel who had been talking with me returned and woke me, as though I had been asleep.” It is a good thing to have anyone wake us up. We ought always to be awake. We will miss a great deal if we are not. It is a good thing to be awakened by an angel. An angel’s touch is soft, gentle, and inspiring. It does not rouse us roughly and rudely. It was an angel that touched Peter and awoke him when he lay sleeping in the prison, between the guards, expecting to be called to execution in the morning. The angels awake us to joy, to gladness, to beauty not to alarms, to sorrow, to pain, to anxiety.

This is a book of visions. We are not prophets, and God does not reveal His will to us as He did to Zechariah. But every earnest soul has visions, glimpses of better things, of nobler life. Whenever we ponder deeply some Word of God there opens out in it a vision of spiritual beauty. Every time we read the biography of a noble life we have a vision which should inspire ns to longings for like nobleness. In godly people we have visions of qualities of character, and acts of self-denying love, which are like visions. We shall be always seeing visions if we live as we may. Heaven lies about us always, close to us; we are on its borders, and we see the rarest beauty at every turn if we will. Really it is a matter of eyes the beauty is always there, if only we have eyes to see.

“What do you see?” asked the angel. We should learn to see things. The world is full of lovely objects, which only a few people really see. There are those who will walk through gardens and over fields filled with flowers and plants and yet never see any beautiful thing that makes appeal to them, never have their souls stirred. There are those who walk under the starry skies every night through the years and are never moved to any sense of wonder or any feeling of admiration, much less of adoration. Moses saw God in the burning bush and took off his shoes. Many people would only have seen a common bush. We should train ourselves to see nature in all its beauty of form and color the highest beauty that is everywhere in God’s works.

When the angel awakened the prophet he looked and at once saw something which caught his attention. “I have seen, and, behold, a candlestick all of gold.” Every Christian should be a light - bearer. God wants us to shine. The world is dark, and we are to pour light into its darkness. There are many ways to do this. The first always is in our own life. Our character must shine. That means, to put it very simply, that we must be holy. A pure, good, loving heart will make the light shine. Nothing but love shines. We are, therefore, to be obedient, trustful, and reverent toward God and gentle, unselfish, kind, thoughtful, patient, and helpful toward others. The candle wastes, burns itself up, in shining. We must burn to shine. It costs to be unselfish, patient, thoughtful, and useful. We must be forgiving; we must bear injuries; we must do good to unworthy people; we must deny ourselves and make personal sacrifices; we must be gentle and kind when others are rude to us.

As the prophet looked the vision became clear and distinct. “I see a candlestick all of gold. .. and seven lamps on it, with seven pipes to the lights. Also there are two olive trees by it.” The meaning is that the lamps which burned brightly were supplied with oil without the help of human hands from the live olive trees through the golden pipes. The lamps themselves would not give light they must have oil in them. They must also be continually refilled, so that they will continue to shine.

Just so, our lives are only empty lamps which must be supplied with oil from Christ’s own fullness. That is, we must abide in Christ so as to receive of His life continually. We can shine only when the oil of divine love and grace is in us.

“Then I asked the angel: What are these, my lord? What do they mean ?” The prophet wished to know the meaning of the vision he saw. He was of an eager, inquiring mind. He was not content to let anything pass, which he did not understand. This is a good rule for all of us. Some people get tired answering children’s questions. They are annoyed by their desire to know what things are for. But children ought to ask questions. The world is all new to them. They have a right to learn what things are and why they are. We ought to encourage a child’s inquisitiveness and take delight in telling it every new thing we can. Moreover, we should be children ourselves, all through our life, in this the desire to know the meaning of every new thing we come upon.

The answer the angel gave the prophet, contained the whole wonderful meaning of the vision. “So he said to me: This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel: Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the LORD Almighty!” If the completion of the temple had depended on human might or power it never would have been finished. The people were few, poor, and weak and the work was great, and enemies were on every side. The temple never could have risen from amid the old ruins if it had depended on the human might that was in the field. But it did not. God’s Spirit was in the work, and there is no power in the universe that can withstand God or successfully resist Him. He could do the work with small means or with great. He could not be hindered by opposition of enemies, for He is omnipotent!

It is still true in God’s world, that it is not by might nor by power but by the Holy Spirit, that things are done. God does not need human strength to work with Him; He would rather work with human weakness. When He sends us out to do anything for Him He will always provide the means and open the way, that we may not fail if only we trust Him. God uses little things to accomplish His great purposes. At this time the people were discouraged. It seemed that their work of building the temple could not go on. Human power was faint. The vision was a revelation of God working with His almighty power to accomplish the work. The candlesticks drew the oil from the olive trees. Human agency was unnecessary. “Not by might, nor by power says the LORD Almighty!”

Enemies were boasting but their power would be as nothing before the strength of God. “Who are you, great mountain ? Before Zerubbabel, you shall become a plain .” Zerubbabel was God’s chosen builder, and before Him all hindrances and obstacles would melt away. Zechariah was an encourager, and he was giving assurance of success in spite of all opposition. All mountains of difficulty which stand in the way of God’s order shall be leveled down by faith’s advance. When we go anywhere for God it is as if God Himself went.

[lonely-letters-from-xeria]

A Letter of Beginning

Dear… whoever,

My name is Glenn. I’m a student at Rexridge High School. Was? I’m not sure. I’m writing this down to process everything that’s happened, and I guess a part of me hopes someone back home will somehow receive it and know what happened.

It hasn’t been that long. Twelve hours, give or take by the position of the sun. It’s not too different from the one at home, so small mercies, I guess. Glad my field knowledge doesn’t go to waste here. But I don’t know if there’s a time difference between here and home, so… just in case…

Hello. My name is Glenn. Yes, the Glenn on the missing posters.

I’m with the other four missing kids. Fyrus, Avery, Sophia, and Adrien. We’re alright, for the most part. Just… lost.

It all started like this.

————————————————————

Glenn doesn’t know why the woods are calling to him.

The small forest bordering their high school is nothing significant. Aside from the unusualness of birch next to red cedar trees, the dense shrubbery and common moss don’t exactly stand out as some mysterious landscape. It isn’t particularly big either; it wouldn’t take long to walk through it, and nobody ever got lost in it. 

All in all, it’s rather unremarkable.

And yet Glenn’s boots drag him there after school one seemingly random Tuesday. He trudges along, bandana scarf ruffled by the wind. His nature guidebook sits in its usual place in the satchel next to his waist, but that isn’t why he’s walking into the woods.

He’s not sure why he’s walking into the woods.

But he’s walking into them all the same.

Dirt muddies the soles of his boots. The fresh scent of cedar spikes his nose. He brushes twigs away from his sightline, curiosity ballooning in his chest alongside the mysterious feeling tugging him forward. Distantly he can hear the last bell ring, shooing any stragglers in the schoolyard away. He reaches an open glade in the woods and pauses. As far as he can tell, he’s completely alone-

A twig snaps somewhere on his blind side.

He whips his head to the right, immediately defensive whenever someone or something approaches from his right. A guarded scowl tugs at the scars under the trusty eyepatch covering the right half of his face. He scans the trees, trying to find who made the sound.

A teen in a grey and red hoodie stumbles through the bushes, shaking leaves from his carbon-fibre leg. When he catches sight of Glenn, a bright smile bursts over his face. “Glenn!”

Glenn’s shoulders drop from where they’d been tensed. “Fyrus. What are you doing here?”

Fyrus stretches, swiping spiky bands of black hair from his freckled face. “I could say the same to you, but I just kinda... felt like going into the woods for some reason? Like-” He makes a gesture with his hands as if a rope was connected to his chest pulling him to the glade. “Odd, right?”

Glenn frowns at that. “I... have a similar feeling.”

Fyrus cocks his head. “Wait, really? No way! That’s so strange!”

More rattling shrubbery catches their attention, and from another side of the woods steps a teen in a white and blue jacket, ripped black pants, and knee-high boots. Her hair is swept on one side, shaved on the other, and dyed black, white, and light blow. A baseball bat is hefted over her shoulders.

She looks at the two of them in surprise. “Who’re you?”

Glenn opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, another rustle catches his ears. He turns to see yet another teen step from a different direction towards them, this time from a more clear trail. Her face pinches slightly in discomfort as she tries to tie her long blond and blue hair behind her to avoid getting it caught on branches. Glenn recognizes her as a member of the student council, though he doesn’t know her name.

She catches sight of them, gaze swiping over each with an analytical, skeptical look. “What are you three doing here?”

Fyrus pipes up before Glenn or the girl with the baseball bat can speak. “Glenn and I just kinda felt a tug. Weird, huh?”

Baseball bat girl’s eyebrows raise. “A weird tug? Same.”

Student council girl crosses her arms in disbelief. “Oh, sure. You just felt a mysterious tug. That’s definitely not an excuse you’re feeding me because you three got caught.”

Fyrus tilts his head. “Caught?”

“Yeah, caught before you could do... whatever you gathered here to do.”

Glenn shakes his head. “We didn’t intend to-”

The bushes rustle again, quieter than before. Glenn trails off, staring ahead as a fifth teen cautiously steps into the clearing. He moves quietly with soft footsteps, a burgundy umbrella held open above him despite the sunny weather. His hair is black, the roots stark white. In the shade, his eyes look red- though they might actually be that colour. He’s dressed in a fashionable slim silver coat with a maroon scarf.

The other four teens quiet. Glenn’s never talked to the kid before, but he recognizes him as the mysterious loner of the school, the one with countless rumours swirling around him. What rumours, he doesn’t know, never bothering to pay attention to those, but he does at least know they exist for some reason.

The mysterious teen watches without speaking, gaze switching between them. His knuckles are white around the handle of his umbrella.

“So who are you?” Baseball bat girl asks. 

“Did you feel a ‘weird pull’ too?” Student council girl says with a disbelieving scoff.

Mystery boy stares at them. As he opens his mouth to answer, the ground suddenly begins to shake. Fyrus throws out his arms of balance, pinwheeling them. The others struggle to keep their footing, eyes wide in surprise. 

“An earthquake?!” Student council girl shouts. “What-”

Glenn rubs his eye, shaking his head to clear it. For a moment he could have sworn the trees around them were moving in unnatural ways, twisting and contorting and growing with bending shadows. It must have been an illusion from the earthquake, like the sudden prickling feeling of heat across his skin. Oddly enough, he hears the... ocean? Waves crashing on a beach.

It must be branches falling in the woods. They’re nowhere near an ocean. 

The wind picks up, whirling around them with vicious howling. Glenn raises his hands to protect against it, squinting through the sudden storm. His boots slide in the shaking dirt. A burnt taste suddenly finds itself on Glenn’s tongue.

As he watches, strange symbols of light seem to etch themselves in the air and on the ground. Indistinct shouting rings out from the other teens, muffled by the wind. The soil under his feet starts to give away with a sinking sensation, crumbling from the centre of the glade outward into a forming hole. But the hole doesn’t have dirt at the bottom, nor is it a black void. It’s a spinning collage of colours, rippling like a mirror.

Glenn tries to stumble back, but the swirling spiral of wind pushes him forward. The ground cracks away underfoot, sending him pitching forward into the vortex along with the other four teens.

The next thing he knows, he’s laying in the grass of somewhere distinctly not Earth.

————————————————————

I know, I know, sounds impossible. A cave-in? Underground gas pipe explosion? Science class fumes hallucination?

No. We discussed all the possibilities together, and there’s only one conclusion.

We fell through a portal to another world.

It’s mind-blowing, honestly. Scary. A part of me is trying to distract from the fear and confusion by wanting to study the unique flora of this world. I mean, there are so many new mushroom types alone here. I’ve already seen honey-coloured caps and ones that mimic tree bark. And the trees in this area seem similar to birch, though more silver in colour. It’s weird but kind of cool, that’s for sure. Hopefully we can find something edible.

Another part of me finds this place strangely familiar.

Right now we’ve managed to set up a base camp in a nearby glade using a boulder as cover. The others have turned to me for guidance because I’m the only one with experience part-timing as a camp instructor. Fyrus and Avery managed to find some firewood and Sophia found some giant plant leaves to use as a tarp. Adrien did his own thing and cleared the area of stones and sharp twigs, and is now sitting under a tree in the shade of his umbrella and... doing something, I’m not sure. 

I’ve never met Adrien before. There’s a lot of rumours about him- he’s a loner, he always has his umbrella, gives off “mysterious vibes” according to my classmates (apparently he’s “totally a vampire”, which I highly doubt) - but I don’t pay attention to that stuff. He’s careful of where he steps on the flora, and that’s good enough for me, I guess.

Sophia and Avery are also newcomers to me, though I’ve seen Avery on the sports field for the rugby team and the baseball team. She’s got her bat with her, and she’s already said she’d fight anything that approaches our camp to defend us. A little brash, maybe, but her words helped Fyrus and Sophia, so it’s comforting. Sophia’s on the student council and I see her around the library, though she usually avoids the campgrounds I work at. Avoids a lot of the outdoors, but hey, she’s doing her best here.

Fyrus is really the only one I know well. He’s a good friend of mine, full of energy and drive. He won’t stop for anything once he puts his mind to a task (usually because he gets so focused he forgets), and I’ve had to remind him to grab food and water before. He calls me a hypocrite (and then immediately apologies- he’s too nice for his own good) because I can go overboard on work too. Kid’s a little naive and overtrusting, but he’s got a good heart. 

I don’t know why I’m writing all this down. Probably as a record in case... well, just so people know who we were in if something happens. 

Morbid thought, I know.

That’s it for now. I want to save paper space for the others and it’s starting to get dark. Not great for the eye to be writing in the dark.

And I want to check on the others. Just because I don’t know them well doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make sure everyone’s handling this okay.

We’ll get through this together.

We have to.

- Glenn

[vampirelover890]

The Moon's Favorite (6/?)

Viridian was exhausted. The last week had been nothing but diplomacy and politics, neutral territory and old alliances, and lots and lots of old people talking. Though, the ingenuity of her own craft, her true passion, had not been lost, and had created a visual apparatus that could be used as a long distance window, so that she may atleast be bored from the discomfort of her own throne.

Recently, the topic of discussion amongst leaders was the recent vacation of a neutral fort near important borders. The King of Candelide spoke loudly and clearly, "Fort Moorne is an important historical landmark of my great nation, as it's original owners, we must regain control of this national monument."

Another voice piped up, screaming, "You cursebloods lost the dawned war! It belongs to those on the side who won, like us."

The previous Queen of Ynsdryth would have been very outspoken about this exact topic, as she was of any, though as Viridian was to begin defending her allies opinions, she heard a knock at her chamber doors.

"I'm very sorry gentlemen, but it would seem as if I am needed elsewhere at the moment," she said, signaling her personal guard to open the door. "Now I must simply say- oh... oh my gods. So sorry gentlemen, but an injured party of adventurers have just entered my chamber, and I must attend to their group."

The political leaders began to complain. "What is this, some sort of national emergency? A couple of adventurers go and get hurt and you call that a national emergency? You think them more important that this? Why you don-" The King of Candelide's angry ramblings were cut of by Viridian closing her side of the Window.

Before Queen Viridian knelt 3 adventurers. The trio seemed as if they'd entered lower planes and returned, the first, a tall, we'll built woman, freshly missing an eye and 3 fingers. The second was a man in full plate armor, missing his right arm, and finally, a Green-scaled Dragon-Blood, missing multiple teeth and patches of scales, seemingly freshly ripped out of his flesh. The first spoke up. "Queen of Ynsdryth, my name is Maria Mazelina, and we've come with important news that involves the safety an' security of the country."

"Continue." The Queen commanded.

"We've found the sonofa'bitch who's responsible for killin' all those people in Marccina a couple months back."

"I see. Would you mind recounting your tale?"

"Well, we used to be 5, an' got a job to go an' try to make sure Marccina wasn't full of stuff that would interrupt the rehab an' cleanup of the city. Then Slayer here," continued Maria after pointing to the fully armored man, "realized that somethin' was off. Right he was, cuz only a few minutes later we found 'im."

The Queen inquired, "who?"

"Called himself Anderson Deephall. He was some weirdo who wore clothes too big for himself and called himself "we" instead of "me" or "I". Turned out he's got some sort of demon inside him, which was what killed everyone there, an' then he mauled one of our other members. He, uh... didn't make it outta that tavern. We tried fightin' him, but we couldn't even make him bleed."

"Interesting. How many other people know? Who have you told?"

"None but you, your highness."

"Perfect."

"Perfect?"

The Queen rose from her throne. With the wave of her hand, the guard within the room, vanished in mist, an illusion. She began to stride towards the injured adventurers.

"Maria was it?"

"Yes, Highn-"

"If I have to hear one more person call me 'your highness' today, I will personally scorch the plane till naught but I exist. I and He."

"He?"

"A demon you called him. A demon. As if something as magnificent as he is could be something lowly as a demon. Remember that while I may be Queen and ruler of Ynsdryth, I was neither before hand."

"Ma'am, what in the fucking planes do you mean?"

Maria rose to her feet, helping Slayer upon his, then Gail. She brandished her revolver.

"I mean, that I, Viridian, a girl born so poor I have no last name, the Witch of Velcura, Arch-mage under my predecessor, worship no gods; only him! He is the light at the end of the tunnel! He will l-"

Viridian's monologue was cut short with a loud bang, and the smell of gunpowder. A bullet had found its way from Maria's firearm directly into Viridian's head. The Queen of Ynsdryth promptly fell onto the floor, staining the carpet and marble between herself and Maria with blood.

"Maria! You can't just go killing the Queen!" Shouted Gail.

Maria quickly retorted. "Right, well, the way she was walkin' n' talkin', it was either us or her. Now let get on goin' and find some healer or potionmaker to fix you two up. Seems the country's about to go to shit."

Maria, Gail, and Slayer exited the Queen's chambers with haste, not wishing to be accused of treason.

Viridian's body lay on the floor, lifeless and silent. The carpet below her corpse soaked in the blood of the Queen. Viridian's right hand rose, up it went, landing on her head, where it dug its nails into her hair, grasping deeper, causeing her scalp to bleed. Finally, her hand had found its target, and began to pull. Out of Viridian's cadaver came Viridian once again. Ripping of her flesh like a reptile shedding its skin, revealing a new layer entirely. Viridian stood above her old skin with a sense of pride. It had worked once again. She walked back to her throne, and sat upon it. A throne of lies and illegitimacy, which she sat upon proud.

[west-tokyo-incidents]

Paresse threw the packet of meat onto the counter, "Vice is fucking right, you're a goddamn coward!" His voice is strained to remain quiet.

Kei stared at the packet and scowled, "One ghoul in our territory does not a raiding party make. He was out of line hunting here, but we can handle that."

Vice huffed and glares out of the corner of his eye at Kei, but reached for the packet, "And we can always take this ba--" before he can finish his sentence, Paresse's nails are talons in the plastic wrapping.

"It was Puck." He pulls the packet back to himself, his kakugan making a couple veins stand out around his eyes, "If you think that fuck isn't scouting for his little wild ghoul buddies, you don't know your own goddamn enemies. You all live here, closer to the city than the edge of Tokyo, if you knew a damn thing about them--" He paused, cutting himself off. Vice spoke, but he isn't paying attention as he lifted his nose and sniffed the air. A human. Not one he immediately knew.

He spun to glare at the door, but saw no movement, "There's a human at the door."

Vice snapped to attention, sitting up. Kei jumped up and threw the door open, calling out. Paresse swiftly looked away and hid his eyes under his hand from the open door. A second later, Kei closed the door and locked it back, bringing a mug back behind the counter, "Just Kia's friend bringing back a mug." There's a little click as he set the mug down in the steel sink.

"Matsue?" Akira spoke for the first time since Paresse's outburst, "She's so nosey."

Paresse huffed and lowered his hand back down, "Who fucking cares."

Vice growled and sunk back down in his chair, "We're dealing with enough shit from the 12th Ward invading and apparently Rise Kamishiro has been spotted north in the 20th Ward. Puck is a wild mongrel looking for scraps. We fire a few shots into the woods and they'll scramble back to their little dens."

Paresse growled, "If you don't do something about it, you'll have a war from three sides on your hands." He leaned back, "Wild ghouls aren't stray dogs, they're wolves and you've never dealt with them like your father did."

Vice flinched and his face twisted into a snarl.

"One mention of wild ghouls from my mother was the reason he sent our family to guard the border. That's why I fucking live there now." His eyes snap to Kaizo, the eldest ghoul there, and the man weaved his fingers together and looked like he was deep in thought, his brows furrowed.

But he didn't say anything.

Paresse snarled and stood up, "Fine. You're all cowards. Shoot your pitiful 'shots into the woods'... I'll be laughing when they eat your cocks in your sleep." He stormed out of the coffee shop with the packet in hand.

Vice stared after him... And then he glanced to the side at Kaizo.

"Is it true?"

Kaizo nodded slowly, "Yes. But Puck's been a nuisance for years. He's never come that deep into the Ward before, though." He leaned back, "And he's the only one that's been spotted since you were a little kid. But before then, before the 12th ward bastards started trying to hunt on our grounds, your father was most concerned about our border."

Kei crossed his arms, "Our border with the edge of Tokyo is almost the smallest of all the outer wards, second only to the third ward, but I was assigned to the border for a year. The guard there isn't the best. Hadn't had a recorded incident in ages. Didn't have one the whole time I was there."

"..." Vice crossed his arms and kicked his legs up onto the counter, "So what do we do?"

Kei briefly saw a scared kid sitting in that chair, his eyes searching a point beyond the walls of the coffee shop as he was deep in thought.

"Our border with the wild is smaller than our border with the 12th Ward, and Kamishiro is only supposedly in the 20th. All sightings are just hearsay." Akira piped up, "With no indication that she's coming south. You're right that we should be focusing our efforts on the 12th, I think."

Vice closed his eyes.

"But we should at least keep a solid eye to the West." Akira added at the end.

Vice nodded.

---

Mizho stared at Paresse as he ate. His teeth made quick work of it, but it was clear he wasn't enjoying it.

"I take it that it didn't go well?"

Paresse just shook his head, "Fuck no. Idiots just focused on the south border. Didn't really seem to give a fuck about Kamishiro or Puck."

"Don't worry about Rize."

Paresse looked up, confused, at Mizho.

"She's going to be dealt with."

He stared for a moment, his expression blank with blood smearing his lips. She said nothing else. He chuckled, almost nervously, "Cryptic as always, huh? Fine. Still, Puck is a problem."

She nodded her agreement to that.

[pogda]

Last night I had a hard time sleeping, waking up every once and a while, but my dream I had throughout it was wild and honestly kinda scary.

This dream had the monster in them, not quite Slenderman, but they were kinda similar. Tall, long ass arms and legs, a bit more meat on the bone than good 'ol slendy though. I'm not sure what their goals were other than expanding their territory and killing all of us.

When I say "us" I mean this group of people I was with who defended against them. The dream opened up on this guy I don't quite know in this heavily armoured vehicle of sorts going down underground in their territory to find something. Whether it was their leader, or just to find more information on them, he went down there for something.

This is where things get sorta fuzzy for a second. I somehow made my way down there underground as well. I was following the man tracks in a way, trying to find him I think. This place fully freaked the hell out of me though, knowing these things can literally pop up out of nowhere because apparently they had a way of hiding from the naked eye when not wanting to be seen.

So I'm going through these strange tunnels, finding spots where the man had camped and blocked off before he went deeper. At this point it felt like a horror game came to life. I had to find my way through places the man had strictly boarded off just to find my way deeper to him, or at least deeper to something.

I had many struggles throughout these tunnels, many more for me to say here. Though eventually I found a tunnel that lead back up, but into a building this time, in our main town. The tunnel exited into an abandoned room that no one had used for quite a while. I checked the window and sure enough it opened, though all windows in the complex had these metal screens outside of them that you can open from the bottom.

So I crawled out the window, making sure to close it behind me, then I barred it from the outside with metal pipes because this lead directly into our town and no one knew about it. Good thing I did too, because as soon as I did one of the monsters appeared in the room trying to stop me from leaving. At this point I found a rifle that was left by one of the town guards and started firing upon the monster, which attracted the towns leader who came and asked me "What the hell is going on!?" And so I explained it to him. All of it. Including their lack of defenses and their laziness about checking these buildings.

This one tunnel could have lead to the monsters taking us all out without us even knowing.

The town leader made sure there were guards stationed here 24/7 now. Every once and a while you can hear a few gunshots of them deterring a monster from trying to break out.

While I was in the tunnels though, one of the monsters spoke to me, told me about himself. Not in a friendly manner, more like an evil villain telling the hero about their past right before they try to kill him. I don't remember everything, but what I do remember is that he had some important murders in the year 1212. This at least told us just how long these monsters have been here, if not longer.

This entire town is here on their border as a way to defend against them, sort of like how the towns on the wall in Attack on Titan work in a way.

This is all I can quite remember about this dream without going into heavy details about the tunnels. Boy did I spend a lot of time in them and they were scary as hell.

If anyone else is reading this, welcome. I do not expect many people to find this honestly, but here you go.

[holykillercake]

FRIED EGGS

KOBY x Pirate!Reader

word count: 2k

summary: Being infiltrated as a Marine and keeping your feelings under control was easy until you were assigned to work with Marine Captain Koby. How you wished he was a jerk.

highlight: ¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨

warnings: read under the risk of developing diabetes.

notes: Hey, guys! This was a lovely request from @pure-kirarin! <3 I had to stop other projects to make this one because Koby threw me out of my comfort zone hahaha I really hope you like!! ALSO 1) Happy Birthday Sabo-kun! ALSO 2) In order to add more dept to the story, the main character is part of a Yonkos´crew, but I wrote in a way that all fit, so choose your favorite! ALSO 3) ART ALERT!

Leave comments, hearts and love!

¨You have been doing a remarkable job in such little time, Commander L/N. We all have great expectations regarding your transference to our Marine Headquarters.¨ 

The words of the Rear Admiral barely scratched your mind as you discreetly observed the pink-haired boy´s reflection on the crystal clear window. 

He maintained a similar posture to yours: chin up, chest out, shoulders back, and stomach in. However, while your fingers remained paralleled to your trousers, you took a glimpse of his clenched fist, thumb fidgeting the side of his index finger. 

¨Vice Admiral Tsuru was reluctant to sign your transfer. She said you remind her of herself in the past, which is always an excellent compliment to hear.¨ you nodded, acknowledging his words  ¨We´re glad we convinced her.¨

Your heart warmed with his words, and you almost felt bad because you knew the disappointing outcome O-Tsuru-san would have at the end of this. She trained you with the iron face of a merciless soldier, and the elegance that resembled the animal of her name.

It has been three years since you received the green card from your captain to part ways in a long-term solo mission. A journey to excavate the putrid secrets of the so-called defenders of the law. You learned after a short time that justice is not so black and white.

Not that you planned to reveal the dirt, no. That intel your captain could sell to the Revolutionary Army and keep the capital running. You were interested in the arms race, the corrupt diplomacy, and more importantly, the dark pipes where traitors flowed.

Someone from inside the Yonkos was feeding the Marines with crucial information about the Emperors´ activities. And in such a close fight, you could not take those risks.

All other Emperors must have their own undercover agents within the Marines, but even that was a dispute. You could point some names to your boss, who confirmed what was suspected. Those would usually be the best of the best, extravagant and loud.

But not you. You didn't have to make that much noise. You slid between the floors of New Marineford like a snake swimming with the current. Earning the respect of your superiors and being promoted without ringing any bells. You accepted each medal with a firm salutation and relentless performance. 

¨The trip must have been displeasing. Submerging ten thousand meters underwater and rising to these fiendish waters require a good rest. Our Marine Captain Koby will escort you to your quarters, Commander Y/N. The remaining instructions shall be presented tomorrow.¨

You saluted the Rear Admiral in front of you and turned to the exit, passing by Koby, who waited for you to leave first.  When your paths crossed, the pace of your heartbeats quickened, pumping more blood through your body and leaving a burning sensation on your cheeks. 

The involuntary response was instantly interpreted as alertness to danger, which needed to be handled with caution. 

Can´t let my guard down around this one, you thought.

In fact, you planned to keep as much distance as you could from him. An officer let slip that he has been gaining incredible control over his Observation Haki since the Paramount War. 

But the wind seemed to change direction, and you began to swim against the current. When the morning came, you were assigned to be his partner for an undetermined time, and he would act as your superior. The idea of being bossed around by a younger marine got your temper sparked. 

Only he was not like the others, treating you in a patronizing and condescending way. He spoke to you with the same cordiality and politeness he addressed everybody else. 

Slowly, your concrete cold expression began to soothe. You would still remind yourself how annoying his good manners were, though. So annoying, seriously!

¨Good morning, Y/N-san!¨ he greeted as you joined him for breakfast. 

¨Good morning, Koby.¨ 

¨Our Border Force correspondent sent his report early in the morning with information about possible Yonkos´ alliances in the Wano Country. We are arranging a meeting as soon as possible.¨ 

You didn´t like to handle work so early, but this subject, in particular, raised your spirits. ¨Good. It was about time.¨

You noticed that he wore a different headband. ¨What happened?¨ 

¨Hm?¨ he brought the soup bowl close to his mouth. 

¨The bandana. Green, with the fried eggs.¨ he choked on the miso soup, coughing like he had swallowed poison. 

You reached for a paper tissue and handed it to him. ¨K-Koby, are you ok?¨

¨Y-Y/N... Y/N-san...¨ he coughed some more ¨They´re not... fried eggs...¨

¨Oh...¨ your brows raised slightly ¨What are they?¨

A depressive aura grew around him ¨They are flowers, YN-san...¨

The edge of your lips contorted as you tried to hide a smile. You haven´t felt like smiling genuinely for years. Annoying boy!

From that moment on, ignoring him became more difficult. He started to ask you to train with him or invite you to spend some time with him and Helmeppo whenever you had free time. Eventually, he began to ask you how he looked before an important meeting. 

Most of the time, you would reply something like ¨ok¨. But sometimes, the mouth was quicker than the brain, and you would let an ¨impeccable¨ slip out, followed by an awkward throat clearing and blushed cheeks. 

From both sides.

•

¨Oh my-¨ you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence. 

You were chosen to complete this mission due to your excellent skills in hiding emotions and acting calm under stressful situations. No one could break you. 

Within the Marines, no joke could make you crack a smile, and no torture could make you spill secrets. 

Why did you want to ask if he was ok?

Koby had entered his office with bumps and bloody bruises over his face. His always neat uniform was blotchy, and he carried a first aid kit. 

¨Garp-san paid a visit.¨ He sat on the couch and opened the white box, throwing everything on the coffee table. ¨I bet it wasn't like this with Tsuru-san.¨ he chuckled. 

¨No. She would beat me up, wash me and hang me up to dry.¨ 

You shot from the chair, moving towards the clumsy pinkette, who struggled to attend to his injuries. He tried to hold the mirror with one hand and suture his gash with the other. 

¨Thank yo-¨

¨Shh. Don´t move.¨

You leaned closer to have a better look, giving Koby the same chance. Your delicate perfume smelled like it was tailor-made for you. Your breathing was slightly irregular, and your lip twitched with every given stitch. Your fingers felt like feathers on his skin, so much that he didn´t even feel a sting. 

The job was fast and efficient, making Koby wish Garp had put more effort into his Love Fist. Grabbing a piece of wet cotton, you cleaned the dried blood.  

¨Alright...¨ you whispered.

¨Alright...¨ he whispered back.

You were inches apart from his face, your eyes traveling across the scar on his forehead, the pink locks, and kind features. Your mind traced back all the way to the Paramount War. You had very little knowledge about him, but the words he spoke that day have always made your heart pound like cannonballs. 

You will make an excellent Admiral one day, Koby. 

I hope you don´t hate me. 

¨Y-Y/N-san...¨

¨Hm?¨

¨Your smile is beautiful.¨

¨What?¨ The stupid scene of yours was interrupted like a DJ stopping the record player. 

With cheeks getting pinker than his hair, you shot up and marched back to the chair and your newspaper. ¨You clean this up.¨ 

He left a low chuckle out and began gathering the mess. 

Oh, no, Y/N. You have got to be kidding me. 

He is a freaking marine. Breathe. 

There were a vast number of reasons why you couldn´t like him: from him being a Marine Captain and you being a pirate to the fact that your mission was coming to a conclusion.

Meaning that your journey as his partner would be very soon reaching its end. The meeting with this mysterious correspondent regarding the Yonkos´ operations in the New World would be the last move in this chess game. You would be going home. Mission completed. Everything perfect, right? 

Right, perfect. Impeccable! Ugh!

•

¨... confirm secure line.¨

¨This is Border Officer code 404890. Secure line confirmed.¨ you spoke with a low but clear voice through the nail transponder. 

¨What´s the status on our birdie?¨

¨Positive. The birdie is located at 03:24:01.¨ you gave your boss a coordinate to the name of the Marine informant. The answer you took three years to find out remained on file number one, third page, suspect number twenty-four. 

An amused laugh echoed on your end, and you buried the speaker on your jacket to muffled the sound. 

¨At least he is not one of ours.¨ a chuckle ¨Great job, Y/N.¨

¨Thank you, boss.¨

¨I know this mustn't have been easy, but you were impeccable as always.¨

Yeah, impeccable. 

¨You know the protocol now. We´ll see each other in a few days. You´ll have a party waiting for you, kid.¨

¨Aye, aye, boss. But I want the good booze.¨  Both of you laughed. 

You finished the call, and the smile on your lips died as the image of a pink-haired boy invaded your mind. You wished he was a jerk like everybody else. 

It would have been so easy. 

¨Who were you talking to?¨ your chest contracted, pushing the air out of your lungs and sending extra blood supply to your muscles. 

You hid the transponder into your jacket and turned, facing your Marine Captain. 

¨Eavesdropping, Koby?¨

What should I do?

¨Y/N-san, who were you talking to?¨ he repeated himself, offering the benefit of the doubt. You sighed.

¨My captain.¨ 

Why the need to be honest with him?

¨Y/N-san, please don´t tell me-¨

¨I´m sorry, Koby. I wish I didn´t have to do this.¨ you couldn´t bring yourself to face him.

¨A-Are you a pirate? Why?¨

You chuckled ¨Why am I a pirate?¨

¨Why did you do this?¨ his face was pale, making your guts twitch in guilt.

¨I´m on a mission. But I´ll leave soon.¨

¨You are like... Vergo-san.¨ he sounded disappointed.

¨I am nothing like Vergo. You know this.¨ or at least you hoped he did. 

He closed the door slowly, eyes fixed on your figure. The bright light from the window made him look like an ethereal painting.

While you tried to predict his next move, whether he was going to interrogate you or kick your ass, Koby acted calm and collected, not hesitating. He trusted his Observation Haki to guide his next move. Or maybe his heart.

You saw a pink blur closing distance like a missile, and before you could dodge, his hands pulled you by the waist, connecting your bodies and lips. 

He forced your back to meet the thick window with a gasp that was muffled by the kiss. His touch was rough upon the fabric of your uniform, but his mouth felt soft against yours.

Your hands moved to his hair, removing the round pair of glasses and the green bandana so you could get lost in his locks. His grip was harsh under the fabric of your uniform, but his hair felt soft on your fingertips. 

A moan escaped your lips when he parted the kiss with a loud snap and struck the glass with both hands, keeping you trapped in the middle. You let go of his hair and grabbed him by the collar, not letting him go away.

¨I am kissing you... but I am angry, Y/N-san...¨ his breath was heavy and carried with a myriad of emotions. 

¨I know... I am sorry.¨

¨Why?¨

¨Because I like you, Koby. A lot.¨ he paused for a second, fighting the urge to admit the same.

¨What was your mission?¨

This is the last lie, I promise, Koby. ¨The Marines possessed vital information about something my boss wants. I needed to get it.¨

¨Now that I know that you´re a pirate and that you stole Marine´s assets, I´m gonna have to hunt you down.¨

¨I´ll be waiting for you.¨ 

You stared him in the eyes, and he kissed you to stop himself from saying what he really wanted. 

I love you, Y/N-san.

Diary of Koby-Meppo: The Fried Egg Life Crisis.

💕 @vemuabhi

[kikilefangirl]

Phantom Love

Erik Lenhsherr x Reader 

(Word Count: 1.6k)

The knock on your apartment door was frantic and jarring.

You remained perched on your window sill, staring out at the busy street. You inhaled, taking a hit from your blunt. There was a light drizzle outside, and you could feel its pull on you and you pushed back. 

You made the water bend to your will, twisting and turning droplets as they fell. Never anything attention grabbing, but just enough to pass the time. As you exhaled, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and rested your head on them. 

Whoever was out there wasn’t invited, and you weren’t keen on visitors at the moment. 

Y/N, you know we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.

You perked up at the familiar voice in your head. You sighed at the trouble Charles Xavier would bring to your door. He was interrupting your carefully crafted solitude for his shit.

“Fuck off, Charles!” You shouted. Smoke escaped your lips and up into the air, slowly dissipating into nothing. Your eyes followed its path, staring up at your ceiling.  

Charles knocked again. 

“Y/N! It’s Erik!” He called out. You clicked your tongue.

Of course it was. It was always Erik. Blunt in hand, you stalked over to the door. You stared at it with all the rage and scrutiny you had in you, then haphazardly swung it open. 

One hand sat on your waist as you lifted your blunt to your mouth again. Charles and Hank were waiting for you in the hallway. You let the smoke blow in their faces.

The two men coughed and sputtered as you headed deeper into your apartment without ceremony. 

“Y/N. He’s taken a turn.” Hank said. You snuffed out your blunt in the ashtray. 

Running a hand along the walls, you let the cool surface calm your growing anger.  You could feel the water rushing through the pipes. From there, you were connected to the complex plumbing network that made up the whole block. And the rain, too. 

“I could’ve told you he was crazy as hell the day I met him.” You scoffed. You took your hand away from the wall and sat back in your chair.

Charles frowned at your callousness as he stood in the middle of your living room. All around him, your plants and art were splayed across the room, a calming ecosystem in the midst of his panicking. 

“He’s joined up with someone dangerous. He’ll get himself and everyone else killed.” Charles persisted, “Let me show you.” 

Your leg bounced and you rolled your tongue under your bottom lip. Something in your old friend’s face gave you pause. 

“Fine.” You finally relented. You dropped your shoulders and let Charles place two fingers on your temple.

Images flashed through your mind, rapid fire. And it was worse than you could have imagined. It was Erik, well past his breaking point. His face was red and blotchy, his hair was unkempt, and his powers were in full force. The worst was watching how utterly and completely destroyed he looked. It was bottomless. 

You now understand why we need your help, Y/N.

You couldn’t find the words just yet, opting for a small comfort instead. Strategically hidden in the floorboard, you pulled out a velvet box. In it, was a simple diamond ring set in a platinum band.

“What did he get into, Charles?” You asked, almost absentmindedly. The ring was on a chain, sitting in your palm. It stared back at you, laughing at the phantom love you and Erik had. You met Charles’ gaze, final and resolute.

Your expression darkened. On the right side of you, the glass vase filled with fresh calla lilies shattered into a million pieces. Water sprayed everywhere, dowsing Charles and Hank the most. 

The sound sent you tumbling back into the moment— and you lifted your hand in the air. Water rose up from your apartment floor and your visitors’ wet clothes, gradually growing into a ball of water. You twisted your hand, burning the liquid off in mid-air.

“Thank you.”  Hank offered, albeit stiffly. Charles just nodded—he’d seen the full scope of your abilities before. He knew what you were capable of and that was probably the only reason he was really there. 

“A mutant called Apocalypse is planning something, and Erik is playing quite the role in whatever that is.” Charles spoke at last. Your eyes cut back down to the ring, twirling it between your fingers. You swallowed hard.

“He made this ring for me himself. Asked me to marry him with it,” you started, feeling the special groves and roughness of the ring, “I love him more than anything, and I still walked.  But I’ll be damned if I spend the rest of my life picking up after him just ‘cause I love him.”

You couldn’t bite back the bitterness or the love. It was all there, all the time. You found over the years that your relationship with Erik teetered from one to the other, and you went with it every time. 

“Y/N, we need your help.” Charles begged you. You put the ring back in its place. The box snapped shut. You stared blankly at it, then up at Charles and Hank. 

“No.” 

Your voice was barely audible and it was more felt than heard. You couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not to Erik. 

“I didn’t know all of...please, Charles, just leave.” You were shaking, uncontrollably now. The pipes roared loudly behind you.

Hank protested, and Charles said nothing at all. You could feel his steady anger pulse throughout the room. You sparked your blunt again, trying to get a light to no avail. You were grateful when it finally gave. 

“I’ve shown you everything and you still refuse to act against him.” Charles spat out. The venom in his tone was harsh and unexpected. 

“You’ve been warned, and whatever happens you and I know you could’ve stopped it.” He continued. 

Charles gave you too much credit; he had too much faith that you could change anything. You headed back to your window sill, and turned your back to them. You heard the shuffle of feet and a door slam and then nothing. 

You took another hit, hoping to be nothing, too. 

                                                         …

That night, it rained harder than it had in weeks. Partly nature, partly you. 

“I know they were here.” 

You couldn’t look back at him to retort. It was true, and it was your apartment to begin with. Your anger surprised you, making you turn on him faster than either of you expected. You pulled a wall of water straight through the window. The glass shattered and some minor cuts appeared on your shoulder, but it didn’t matter. 

You caught Erik off guard and had him pinned to the wall. He squirmed under your grip, but he could only do so much. The water reached past his neck, successfully keeping him where he was. 

“If you decide to burn the world down, the only thing I’m doing is getting the hell out the way.” 

The words stung coming out of your mouth, probably as much as they stung hearing them. The two of you were doing that thing you did when you broke each other’s hearts again. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder. It was all you were taking with you. 

“You would leave me, again.” Erik pleaded. You stopped dead in your tracks. Mesmerized, you could feel the blood pumping through his veins. Tentatively, you pressed your forehead in the crook of his neck. You pressed your lips onto his, and he craned his neck as best he could to kiss you back. He tried to put every ounce of desire he had for you in that kiss, and you did too. 

Pulling away from Erik was hard to do, but you closed your eyes and did it anyway. 

“When Charles Xavier shows up to my house and I have no defense, no words to give him about you. I sat up here looking like a goddamn fool and you let me.” Your gravelly voice was weak at best.

Erik couldn’t muster a reply worth shit, so he chose silence. In that, a pained expression took over his features. You ran your palm across his face, savoring the laugh lines, the ridges, the stubble. As you passed over his lips, he kissed your hand and you let him. 

“I love you, Erik, and don’t you dare go around thinking I don’t. But whatever Apocalypse has given you, I hope it was worth it.” You admitted. 

His eyes went wide, first with shock, then they settled on something bordering shame. 

You took a deep breath, and gave Erik your back just the same as you gave it to Charles, slipping out the door and into the rainy night.

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 5]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.

Warnings: Making Out, Dry Humping, Extreme Fluff

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4| Chapter 6

***

(Y/n) wasn’t a stranger to fast food establishments at all; especially when she was far away from her family at university, and well away from having to keep up pretenses— on the off chance that an off-the-rails paparazzo would recognize her and hound her for an interview.

She liked to partake in the occasional burger from McDonald’s, and the odd fried chicken from KFC every once in a while. But it was the first time that she’d even been to a fast food restaurant while dressed to the nines.

Hell, she was even wearing statement jewelry that her mother had told Rin to make her wear. And that had her gripping her seatbelt even tighter than before; especially as Kyōjurō pulled up right in front of the busy McDonald’s without a care in the world.

As if he owned the road, which he may as well have— what with the wide berth that people and cars had given him.

(Y/n) couldn’t blame them at all; she would have dived for cover the moment that she had spotted the 4444 digits, as well as the little crown at the corner of Kyōjurō’s license plate. But that was before she had come to be engaged to a Yakuza member— the heir of the family, no less.

“Are you serious? We’re eating here?” She didn’t have any qualm with fast food at all— it was just that they were extremely overdressed. And it was already garnering the attention from a couple of pedestrians, which had her sinking into her seat even further.

But Kyōjurō seemed like he couldn’t give two fucks about what anyone else thought, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and didn’t even bat an eye as he got out of the car; rounding it, all so he could open her door for her.

Gentlemanly, and it wooed (Y/n) a little, but it did barely anything to ease the embarrassment that she got from the stares of all the passersby.

“Why, princess? Too casual for you?” Kyōjurō teased, watching with amusement as his fiancée huffed a little while undoing her seatbelt. And, as a little act of rebellion, she ignored his hand and stepped out of the sedan as gracefully as she can— impressing Kyōjurō even more, as she seamlessly rose up without even parting her legs to move.

“In this case, yes. And in case you haven’t noticed, Kyōjurō, everyone has been staring at us.”

“So? Let them stare; it’s the first time that they’d seen someone as beautiful as you.” The Rengoku answered smoothly, taking (Y/n) off guard and making her cheeks bloom a vibrant red from embarrassment.

And, with a soft chuckle, Kyōjurō quickly took his fiancée’s hand into his own— before tugging her towards the bustling McDonald’s for a quick breakfast.

To Kyōjurō’s surprise— and his utter delight— she managed to finish her pancake and sausage meal; before giving his remaining pancake longing looks across the table.

(Y/n) tried to avoid looking at the fluffy pancake, as it was rude to do so, but her eyes always gravitated towards it; her stomach speaking for her and making her mouth water for the sweet treat. After all, pancakes were one of her most favorite breakfast items— if only for the fact that her father had always taken her to get them before school, before he was the Prime Minister.

The faintest of smiles graced her lips at the fond memories that came flashing in her mind; a reaction that wasn’t lost on Kyōjurō at all, especially since it gave her such a soft and ethereal glow that had him completely transfixed.

His mouth would have fallen open, had he not caught himself in time and kept it closed. And, before he could help it, an equally subtle smile tugged up at the corners of his lips— all while he admired the woman whom sat adjacent from him; the woman who was going to be his wife.

“What’re you smiling about?” The question wasn’t harsh at all, it was merely inquisitive, which had Kyōjurō playfully tilting his head slightly and amping up the wattage on his smile.

However, instead of being teasing, he decided to be upfront with her— hoping to catch her off guard.

Which he did, with his answer.

“You. The way you’re the most beautiful person here without even trying...”

(Y/n)’s lips pursed at those words, but the smile that she tried to hide with that action still crept through the tiny cracks in her façade. It completely enamored the Rengoku even more, as opposed to turning him off from her false placidity.

“You’re too much of a charmer, Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) conceded in a somewhat playful tone, before idly taking her cup of orange juice and taking a sip of it— if only to hide her oncoming blush and flustered smile behind the action.

“Only for you, princess.” And honestly, he really meant it; he’d always been charming, but it was only with her that he truly meant everything he said.

***

A two hour drive later found (Y/n) staring in awe up at the tall trees that bordered a two-lane road up in the mountains. They had turned off from the main road five minutes ago, but she had yet to see where her fiancé was taking her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that she was getting slightly nervous. She couldn’t help the reaction though, as it made sense— all because of Kyōjurō’s job’s nature. She had come to like him to a degree, but she had yet to put her trust in him.

After all, she had to be careful, as she had gone into the arrangement with her eyes wide open. His family was cashing in a favor her father owed, and she could never forget that.

But that didn’t mean that she should hate him for it, as she’d come to realize during their breakfast. He wasn’t all that bad, and he was very easy on the eyes— which was an extremely huge plus.

“I hate to ask this so late, but where exactly are we going?” (Y/n) finally piped up, turning away from the seemingly neverending foliage and looking over at Kyōjurō— whom had his full attention on the road.

He didn’t even turn towards her when he answered, “Somewhere special, and somewhere... private.”

The way that the last word rolled off his tongue was packed with so much meaning, that she couldn’t help but feel herself get a little hot under the collar at his double entendre. Still, she pushed for complete placidity, and even opted to cross her legs at the ankles— if only to squeeze her thighs together.

“I’m sure you’re gonna like it there, sweetheart. Best of all, you won’t have to deal with your mother for a while,” Kyōjurō joked with a grin, still not looking at her, but turning to his left before veering the car left.

A sharp gasp escaped from (Y/n)’s lips at the reckless move, only to be truly left speechless when she got an eyeful of the view in front of her. From a break in the foliage, she saw that they were on a cliff face, with a traditional Japanese mansion down below— complete with an expansive garden— and partnered with such a breathtaking view of Saitama’s lush mountains serving as the backdrop.

Not even the sound of Kyōjurō pulling up the handbrake ruined the tranquility of the moment.

She had been to so many beautiful places in the world, but something about the place just seemed so... tranquil. Like it had touched not jusy her heart, but also her soul.

From his seat, Kyōjurō watched in fascination as his fiancée’s expression became even lovelier as the seconds ticked by. She took in the view so hungrily, that he wasn’t prepared for the sheer admiration in her eyes when she turned to finally look at him.

“Is this yours?” She asked softly, her voice barely above breaking a whisper.

And, with a subtle shake of his head, he gave in to his instincts and leaned in closer to bridge the gap between them— cupping her cheeks in his hands and bringing her face in so he could brush his lips against hers. “It’ll be yours too. Soon, Mrs. Rengoku.”

It was only meant to be a quick peck, but Kyōjurō couldn’t help himself and deepened it into a proper kiss; one that had (Y/n) melting right into his touch. She pliantly parted her lips for his tongue, moaning softly against his mouth when he moved to play with hers.

But things didn’t stop there for the couple, as (Y/n) released more of her control and allowed her lover to pull her over the console and right onto his lap. Thankfully, her dress was flared enough to have not ripped when she instinctively straddled him.

It was a tight fit, with her pressed flush against him— as the steering wheel was digging into her back— but she paid no mind to it as she traded kiss for kiss with her fiancé. All the while, the Rengoku’s hands anchored themselves to either side of her waist, kneading her sides before the right one moved down to cup her ass and squeeze it through her dress.

“Fuck, baby, I want nothing more than to fuck you right here,” Kyōjurō hissed, as he hungrily devoured his lover’s lips with open mouthed kisses. He had even taken to nipping at her lips every once in a while to ease the frustration he felt, especially with her pussy pressed flush against the steadily rising bulge between his thighs.

But he couldn’t break his own word— that his cock was a wifey privilege. Because not only would that be embarrassing and needy as hell for him, it would be going back on his word. And if there’s anything that Kyōjurō hated, it was going back on someone’s word— especially his own.

In response to that, (Y/n) began to grind her pussy up against Kyōjurō’s erection; wrapping her arms even tighter around his shoulders, while her fingers buried themselves in his hair. “Do it. Fuck me right here.”

Part of her was surprised at her shameless words, but she couldn’t very well take them back anymore so she decided to remedy her gaffe by being the one to dive in for another open mouthed kiss— if only to distract her lover from what she had just admitted to wanting, in a roundabout way.

Kyōjurō’s cock was throbbing with need at that statement, but he still forced himself to pull away before things could press on to the point where even he would lose sight of his own control. It was the hardest thing he’d had to do in a while, and it was obvious by (Y/n)’s expression that she did not appreciate being rejected once more— which he tried to smooth over with one last kiss to her luscious lips.

“Wifey priveleges, princess. Not until you’re officially mine.”

[ellstersmash]

Not to Keep

Fandom: Mass Effect (Original Trilogy) Pairing: Kaidan x f!Shepard Rating: T for Teen (cw for alcohol use) Words: 2.7k [Read on Ao3]

shep and kaidan go undercover, set early in me1. this was originally a prompt for "fake relationship" from Leather & Lace Romance Week, but then I waited 3.5 years to finish it 🥀

-

It all seemed so simple. Infiltrate a wedding, extract intel on Benezia, use that to find Saren.

Easy-peasy.

Until Shepard shows up in the shuttle bay looking like that. They've only been working together for a couple of months, and Kaidan has seen her covered in blood spatter, dripping sweat post-PT—hell, even bare naked in a hotel room. But it’s safe to say he never thought he'd see her like this. Full makeup, soft curls, a long red dress that shouldn't fit anyone that perfectly, and, dangling from two fingers, a pair of classy black heels.

Kaidan swallows hard and gives her a curt nod. “Ma’am.”

“Alenko.” He shifts on his feet as her eyes travel the length of his body and back up, her cool stare giving nothing away. “You clean up nice.”

“Ah, thanks. And you look—”

“Oh, I'm dressed to kill.” Lips the same shade as her dress curve into a grin. “Figuratively, for once.”

Kaidan chokes and laughs, caught off guard in a mixture of nerves and surprise. “Was that a joke, Commander?”

Her expression narrows into a pinched, self-deprecating smirk. “If you have to ask, then no. And I definitely haven't been thinking about it since Williams zipped this damn thing up.”

The thought of his CO, this formidable woman, giggling to herself over a stupid joke for an hour is... well, it’s uncharacteristically cute. Kaidan rolls it around in his head for an indulgent minute, trying on the fit before letting the image go.

Just one more thing to jam into that Never Gonna Happen file.

“Right,” she says, back to business. “Let’s get this over with.”

They board the shuttle for the short trip to the venue, and go over the mission brief one final time: intel extraction remains their highest priority—one of their hosts, Polona T’Shan, was rumored to have a close business connection with the matriarch; protecting their cover is important, but heavy security is not expected; their false identity profiles should be enough to get them in the door, and from there the two of them will be responsible for avoiding unwanted attention by appearing as a couple.

Kaidan knows his own limits. He’s a soldier, not an actor. This pretending to be someone else, this lie, it isn't part of his training and it sure as hell isn't part of who he is. But if Shepard’s as nervous as he is, she isn't showing it.

She’s looking at him again, in that intense all-in way she sometimes does. Before her, he had never met someone who was aware of—and pursued—what they wanted with such confidence, such dogged determination, and to have that kind of focus set on him even for just a moment is… terrifying. In a good way, he thinks. It makes him feel warm and cold at the same time. It also makes him want to stare right back, but that way lies only trouble, and none of them need another helping. Not right now.

Kaidan leans back and rests his head on the cool, if slightly unsteady, inner shuttle wall as Shepard drums a rhythmless pattern into the space between their seats.

---

Kyra drains her glass.

As it turns out, Asari weddings aren't all that different from the few human ones she’s attended. Though this reception is a far more extravagant affair than she’s used to: four days of mingling and games and dancing and drinking and food. Really not her cup of tea.

And apparently not Alenko’s, either.

He’d made a beeline for the bar as soon as they’d entered, and returned with an easier stride and a glass full of some bubbling neon sugary shit for her. She’d have preferred something stronger, of course, but they do have a mission to complete. If they can manage to get Polona alone for a moment.

She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and feels him stiffen, then relax. Quick and conscious. He’s nervous, out of place, on edge, and then completely calm and collected.

No doubt in her mind he was the right pick for this one.

The thought settles her stomach, and just in time. Two asari approach, their hands extended in enthusiastic welcome.

“Greetings!” one of them says, with a voice smooth and sweet as wildflower honey. “Oh, what a lovely pair you two make. Right out of the vids, could be. This one’s even better looking up close, don’t you think so, Liria?” The asari takes Alenko’s hand, sensual and deliberate, then turns her attention to Kyra. “And goddess, that dress is stunning; really, sweetie, it fits you like a glove. You”—she drags one finger down Alenko’s lapel—“are a lucky man, I hope you know.”

Eyes wide, he clears his throat and coughs, then regains his composure with a brief glance in Kyra’s direction.

The second asari offers an apologetic look to each of them in turn. “Rialla, darling, slow down or you’ll scare them off.”

“They certainly look sturdy enough.”

“I am so sorry. She’s had quite a bit to drink, I’m afraid. Never could pace herself at a wedding.” She laughs. “My name is Liria, and my companion’s name is Rialla, and ever since we saw you walk in, we have just been itching to get to know you.”

Kyra plasters what she hopes is a warm smile on her face, mentally pulling up her cover identity as reference. “Emily, and I’m delighted to meet you both. This is John, my um—”

“Her very lucky partner.”

The two matriarchs titter and tease him, both in turn, and once again he’s in control. Kyra can’t help but be impressed by how effortlessly he charms them. And she’s far from immune. It’s her mission, yet she is all too prepared to be led around the room by that firm hand at the small of her back.

Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko: respected Alliance Marine, powerful L2 biotic, all-around stand-up guy, and—apparently—a smooth son-of-a-bitch. It’s an unexpected feature for someone so soft-spoken and unpretentious. Like he has a hidden switch somewhere.

Or a button.

Press For Instant Charisma.

She briefly entertains the idea of hunting for it, then aborts the thought with a twist of her lips and tunes back in to the conversation.

---

The lie is getting easier. Shepard is tucked under Kaidan’s arm, and he’s almost comfortable.

Their new friends are exactly the right sort. Nosy, talkative, well into their cups, and connected. Old friends of their mark, both of them, and Liria has history with Benezia herself. Shepard spins her tale about a chance meeting with the missing matriarch at a charity benefit and their tapering correspondence, followed by a rumor igniting hope for reconnection. And they eat it right up.

All he has to do is act natural and help Shepard keep them talking.

“Well, you know Polona wasn’t only Benezia’s lawyer.” Liria leans in close, her voice not quite as hushed as she probably intended. “They were involved, some centuries back. Quite the scandal at the time, but then Benezia always had... selfish tendencies. Now, I’m not sure why they parted ways, or how serious it was, but—”

Not to be outdone, Rialla’s hands flutter for attention as she pipes in. “It must be more than a passing fling from two hundred years ago, though, because I heard that her Turian lover—or, well, husband now—almost called off this very wedding!”

“Really?” Shepard asks. What’s supposed to be idle curiosity is bordering on serious interest, her voice taking on a firm, interrogative quality to match her narrowed gaze, but a brush of his thumb on her shoulder and she reigns it in. Loosens up with a tilt of her head and a hand to his thigh that has him tensing up instead.

“Oh, yes,” Rialla says. “It was all very tenuous there for a while. And to think, then the four of us would never have met!”

Kaidan raises his glass with a smile as genuine as he can muster. “A tragic loss for us, to be sure.”

With a deep, warm smile, Rialla fans her face and leans in close to Shepard, but speaks for the whole table to hear. “Do let me know when you're finished with him, would you, dear? I think I may be quite in love.”

He's fine until Shepard smirks, then he's far too warm. Suffocating.

He tugs at his collar. “You think their, uh, conflict had something to do with Polona and Benezia’s involvement?”

“I seriously doubt it,” Liria says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That was ages ago, not yesterday. Beni’s still pining after Aeth—”

Rialla laughs. “Oh, it’s Beni, now? I had no idea you were such intimate friends!”

“I’m 800 years old, my dear.” Liria scoffs. “I have quite a few friends you don’t know about.”

“Is that supposed to make me jealous?”

“Of course not, don’t be silly!”

“Silly? Goddess, must you always be so patronizing?”

“Must you always twist my words?”

“Oh, here we go!”

The situation spirals into chaos before either he or Shepard can recover it, and she stands up from the table, pulling at his elbow.

“I love this song,” she mutters pointedly, and leads him to the dance floor. It’s a slow number, thank god. He’s not nearly drunk enough to dance to something with a beat.

They sway slowly, and she presses close, his neck prickling underneath her palm. His own hands settle on her waist, then more naturally to her hips.

“Damn,” she whispers. “Damn.”

“I know. But hey, we’ve got the rest of the night. And tomorrow night. And the next night. And—”

“The next night, I know.” She groans and drops her head to his shoulder.

Kaidan smiles into her hair.

---

The night is officially over. The band is still playing, but most of the guests are gone, and despite making a number of connections, they’ve learned nothing more about Benezia's whereabouts.

They have, however, made decent use of the open bar.

Kyra downs the last of her champagne and orders a cocktail, dealer's choice. It arrives glowing and smoking and she takes the skyward trajectory of Alenko’s brows as a personal challenge not to hesitate.

A potent combination of peppermint and blueberries and battery acid hits the back of her throat and makes her head swim on contact.

Next to her, Alenko is nursing his third.

“How’s your drink?” he asks.

“Surprising.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Um… Yes.” She clinks her fingernail against his glass. “How’s your whiskey?”

He frowns and takes a sip. “This is not whiskey.”

“Didn’t realize you were such a connoisseur.”

“No, I mean it is literally not whiskey. Didn’t have it, I guess.” He drinks again. “It’s weird, right? Walk into any bar on Earth and they’ll have a dozen to pick from, but soon as you take off…”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “No burgers. No guac. No ice cream.”

The low chuckle he gives is a sound she’d like to hear again. And again, and again, and—

“When you put it like that, this spacer life is a real sorry existence.”

Kyra nods and wonders what he misses most from home. Or who. But that is none of her business, so she empties her glass and tips the bartender in preparation to leave.

“Sorry tonight was a bust, Shepard.”

“It wasn’t a total loss. Decent food, free booze.” She rests her chin on one closed fist. “Good company.”

“By that, I assume you mean our new asari friends.”

“Sure.”

Holding his gaze is harder than it should be. He cradles his nearly-empty glass and taps his fingers in sequence. Up and down, like a zipper.

At last, he looks away. “I was going to say ‘beautiful,’ by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“Earlier, before we left. I was going to tell you how incredible you looked, but then you interrupted me, and I never really got the chance to say it so I figured I might as well say it now.”

Warmth rises in her belly and she rides it like a wave, unscathed and unchanged on the other side. She turns to face him, wriggling in the seat in preparation like he’s about to try and upend her. “All right, Alenko. Hit me. I’m ready.”

He gives a huff of nervous laughter, one hand going straight to the back of his neck. “Well, uh... that was pretty much it.”

“That’s it? You waited all night to tell me that you were going to tell me I looked beautiful, but didn’t?”

His lips roll together, and he cedes the point with a tilt of his head, then meets her eyes again before his take a slow, uncertain wander around the rest of her features.

“Shepard,” he says when he makes it back, and it’s a name so overused it may as well be a title—but not spoken like that. Low and drawn out and a little bit reverent, it becomes almost intimate for the first time in years and she can't help but wonder how her first might sound.

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

Oh. Oh no. Kyra knows she should say thank you, and tell him to finish his drink so they can get out of here, but this next wave won’t subside and the air won’t reach her lungs and all she can do is stare at him.

“I mean, not just tonight, but especially—” he continues, visibly flustered by her silence. “You know, the dress and the lips—ah, make-up! And, and the hair and everything, it’s just very, um, tasteful, and… Um.” He clears his throat and pushes his drink away by inches, folding his hands tight together. "Feel free to stop me anytime.”

Ah. There. That’s the Alenko she knows and can handle.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” she says, sending a silent prayer of thanks to whichever god kept her voice from breaking.

The smile they exchange is soft and charged and it smooths him over. His eyes are brown. Kyra knew that already, but clinically. On paper. Hair: black. Eyes: brown. Year of birth: 2151.

She didn’t know it like this, tangibly, all wrapped up and swept away in a simple fact.

This time she’s the one to give in. “You know, you should really keep that button pressed, Alenko.”

“What?”

“The charisma button.” She jerks her head toward the door, grabs his hand for the sake of anyone who might still be awake and sober enough to notice, and leads him out. “Push it. More.”

“I— what?”

Kyra chuckles to herself and steps into the elevator. “Forget it.”

The doors close once she chooses a floor and she regrets taking his hand because now she has to let go.

Kiss me. Come on, Alenko. Quick, before we go back. She can’t think it any louder, can’t make it any clearer without crossing a line. Be better if he does it, but he won’t. She knows he wants to just like she knows he never will, because he’s a good soldier and a good soldier doesn’t fuck with the chain of command. Not without a compelling reason, at least, and she can’t give him one.

Their floor lights up and reality pours in. He follows her across the dock, at a distance now that no one who would care might be watching.

Kyra takes a sharp, deep breath. Three more nights of this—unless they can get their intel sooner. Three more nights of flirting and dancing and soft touches all for show and not to keep. Maybe she should have brought Williams after all. Or Garrus. Or anyone else.

Distracted, she nearly trips getting into the shuttle, and somehow he’s right there, a broad hand on her waist to steady her.

A nod and he detaches. Steps back. “Ma’am.”

Ma’am. But he is a terrible liar, and she’s never been good at a long con.

[wayward-dreamer]

The Right Direction

AO3 Link: Read Here

Square Filled: Dog walker!Jensen

Pairing: Dog walker!Jensen x Female!Dog walker!Reader

Word count: 2,839 (Wow! I wrote something under 5K lol!)

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes the wrong direction can turn out to be the right one.

Warnings: Some swearing, a bunch of cute dogs, fluff.

Created for @spnaubingo

A/N: This is written for @downanddirtydean‘s 500 followers challenge! Prompt is in bold. I hope you like it twin!! Thank you @deanwanddamons​ for being a beta on this! As always, I’d love to hear what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

A wet nose and soft fur were the first things she felt on her hand every morning. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a groan leaving her as they adjusted to the light in the room. She felt the bed shift and heard the sound of a collar shaking, her smile growing as the furry ball landed in her lap. She stroked her little Corgi’s fluffy hair, kissing the top of his head.

“Morning, Ringo.” She planted another kiss on his head, her hands alternating between squishing his face and running over his light brown and white fluffy coat. “Someone hungry?”

Ringo licked his lips, signalling he was more than ready for breakfast.

“Alright, come on,” she muttered as she gently dropped him down on the floor of her bedroom.

Y/N got up from her bed, laughing as Ringo scurried out of the door ahead of her, stopping to wait impatiently near his bowl. His round behind wiggled, excited to be receiving his breakfast as Y/N picked up the bag of dog food, dropping some into the metal bowl.

“Stay,” she commanded, watching his innocent brown eyes look up at her. Waiting for a few seconds, she smiled. “Eat.”

Ringo gave his lips another lick, bending down and gobbling up a few pieces of dry food at a time. She smiled at him and then went about getting ready for the morning, quickly changing into her sweatpants and oversized sweater, throwing her hair up in a messy bun. By the time she was ready, Ringo was finished eating.

“Alright, shall we go?” she said, bending down in front of him and petting under his chin. She clipped his leash onto his collar, patting him at the same time. “Now, I’m trusting you to be good with the other dogs, so you better listen to me. Okay?”

Ringo gave her a little whine, causing her to lift an eyebrow. “Ringo.”

His paws started to tap excitedly against the floorboards, making Y/N give him a smile. “Good boy,” she said, scratching behind his head and standing up.

She quickly grabbed her keys, phone and wallet, heading out the door of her apartment, and walking down a few flights of stairs, Ringo in tow. She knocked on the door of an apartment, smiling as Mrs. Morris greeted her. She held the leash of her 6-year-old Border Collie, Betty, in her hand and smiled at her.

“Morning, Y/N. How are you?” she asked, as Betty’s tail wagged excitedly when she saw Ringo, more than ready for her walk.

“I’m great, Mrs. Morris. How are you?”

“Oh, you know, can’t complain,” the older woman said, handing her the leash. “Betty’s a little too excited this morning.”

Y/N patted Betty a few times, shaking her head. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

With a goodbye, she walked Betty and Ringo down the last two flights of stairs, and out onto the sidewalk. She held onto the leashes, enjoying the sun but there was as a slight chill against her face on the bright autumn morning. They walked for about ten minutes, picking up more dogs along the way. A Bulldog, a Pomeranian and a Chihuahua. Y/N walked them into the dog park, knowing how much they loved to run around and play with each other. They were all from the same neighborhood and socially used to each other, making her job much easier. However, Y/N was in desperate need of caffeine, having forgone a cup at home to get the dogs. Making a quick stop at a vendor, she paid for her steaming cup of black coffee and continued to walk them all down the path in the park, trying to find a clear spot to sit down and let them run around.

Y/N kept the dogs in front of her, all of their leashes in one hand, and her drink in the other, trying to get away from unfamiliar pets they hadn’t interacted with yet. As she smiled down at her fur friends for the morning, she basked in the peacefulness of the walk.

Suddenly, Y/N screamed as she collided with another dog walker, a man completely distracted with his phone and not watching what the German Shepherd and Golden Retriever he was walking were doing. Her shoulder got knocked backwards, her arm coming up and spilling her piping hot coffee all down the front of her sweater. She screamed again as the liquid seeped through the material, making contact with  her skin. Thankfully, the sweater she was wearing was thick and she didn’t get severely burnt by the hot beverage.

“Oh my god! I am so, so sorry!” the man apologized, steadying the dog’s leash as he stashed his phone away.

“Sorry?! Watch where you’re going next time, you asshole!” she yelled, using her free hand to wipe the front of her sweater with her sleeve. She hadn’t even looked up at the man yet, focusing on cleaning herself. Her ever loyal companion, Ringo growled at the other dogs, who were slightly bigger than him and were growling back.

“Ringo, it’s okay,” Y/N said, calmly as she pulled lightly on all the leashes, moving the animals  behind her legs. They were all starting to bark, getting riled up by the man’s German Shepherd and Golden Retriever.

“I really am sorry,” the man said, as he pulled the dog he was walking back, “He gets really excited when he comes here, and I was trying to message someone-”

“Well maybe don’t do that,” she grumbled, soaking up the coffee with her sleeve as best as she could. She finally looked up, her eyes blinking as she took in the guy who bumped into her. He was incredibly gorgeous, with green eyes that looked guilty and soft and plump lips that he was biting into. She looked like an absolute mess in her casual attire, and here he was, towering over her and looking like a male model in a dog park.

“Please let me buy you another,” he said, sheepishly as he pointed to her shirt.

She shook her head, a little stunned by the good-looking man in front of her. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel terrible,” he muttered, frowning as he gestured to the German Shepherd “He pulled suddenly while I was texting. It’s no excuse, I know, but he must’ve gotten excited when he saw your dogs.”

“It’s really okay,” Y/N reassured him. She felt awful for yelling at him now that she saw how apologetic he was, “They’re not mine. I’m a dog walker. Only the Corgi belongs to me.”

“I am too, but this guy is mine,” he smiled, gesturing to the German Shepherd next to him, who was now sitting and looking up at Y/N. “His name’s Jagger.”

“Jagger? As in Mick?” she asked, chuckling.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. He patted the top of the Golden Retriever’s head, smiling. “This is Astro. Neighbor’s kid is a big Jetsons fan.”

Y/N laughed, gesturing to her best friend in the whole world, “This is Ringo.”

“As in Starr?” he asked, smirking.

She laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. The Border is Betty, the Bulldog is Jackson, the Pom is Mimi, and the Chihuahua is Coco.”

“Ringo and Jagger… we sure know how to pick some good names,” he said, smiling at her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling back at him. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“I really feel awful about this,” he muttered, frowning. “Can I make it up to you some time?”

She bit her lip, smiling as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” She would have to think about it, considering they had just met, and it wasn’t exactly the greatest first meeting.

“I’m Jensen, by the way.” He offered his hand, smiling softly at her. She took it in hers and felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter.

“Y/N,” she said, smiling back at him. She looked down when she felt a wet nose against her hand, seeing Jagger nudging at her hand. She crouched down and patted him down, scratching behind his ears. The dogs tried to move around her to get to him, but she kept nudging them away, lightly. He whined when she stood up, pulling on his leash as he tried to follow her.

“Jagger, no. We gotta go, man,” Jensen told the dog, steering him in the other direction with Astro in tow.

With one last look at the man who she was totally caught off guard by, Y/N led the dogs away, unfortunately having to cut their walk short.  Jensen smiled as he turned and watched her walk away, hoping that he would see her again. He felt terrible and just hoped he had another shot to get to talk to Y/N. He had seen her from across the park before the collision happened. She was beautiful and despite the horrible circumstance, the moment their eyes met he knew he was done for.

They always say dogs have the best instinct about people, and Jensen was happy to know that Y/N was a good person according to Jagger’s eagerness to go with her. He just hoped there would be no hot coffee in the way of him getting to talk to her the next time he saw her.

A few days had passed since the incident in the park. Y/N was back there again, this time only with Ringo, and it was just after lunch. She handed in her article for the week, meeting her deadline a day early and decided to take her fluff ball for a run around in the dog park once she had submitted the article to her editor. She laughed as he ran circles around her on the grass, a blur of brown and white fur. As he continued to run, Y/N’s attention was suddenly taken away from him, as she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned and smiled, seeing the handsome dog walker who bumped into her a few days ago, a white cup in one hand, the leash to his beautiful German Shepherd in the other.

“A peace offering?” he stated.

“You didn’t have to,” she said, shaking her head.

He held out the cup insistently, smiling when she took it. “Yes, I did.”

She held her palm out, allowing the dog to come near her. The animal sniffed her a few times and licked her hand.  Y/N instantly moved her hand behind his ears to pet him. “He’s gorgeous.” As is his owner she thought to herself as she looked at Jensen, “How old is he?”

“He’s four,” Jensen told her, smirking. “Still acts like a puppy sometimes, though.”

“Aren’t they always a puppy no matter how big they get?” she asked, chuckling. Jagger started nudging against Y/N, wanting her to play with him. Jensen smiled, glad that his dog approved of her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and looked down as Ringo came running to her, interested to see who her new friend was. Ringo hopped excitedly towards Jagger, not intimidated by the size difference between them at all.

“Hey buddy, you remember Jagger?” she asked, smiling brightly. She crouched down, calming him slightly as Jagger began to growl. Jensen got down to the dog’s level, holding him back slightly.

“Hey, behave,” Jensen commanded.

Comforting both of the dogs, Jensen let Jagger move forward a little first. He sniffed Ringo as Y/N let him go slightly too, to do the same. They tried to figure each other out, and one lick from Jagger had Ringo running off, turning to see if he would follow. Jensen let him off the leash, watching as he ran off, both of them play- fighting as they rolled over on the grass. Y/N and Jensen stood back, watching their dogs become fast friends.

“He doesn’t take to small dogs so quickly,” Jensen remarked as he watched his German Shepherd play with the small Corgi.

“Ringo loves every dog he comes across,” Y/N said, smiling as she watched them play. “So, I’m glad he found another friend.”

“Me too,” he muttered, smiling. “Jagger’s been lonely. I keep thinking I should get another one just so he doesn’t feel it anymore.”

“Well, until you do… he’s welcome to play with Ringo,” she stated, smiling at the gorgeous man next to her. The butterflies had returned, and she was finding it hard to keep her cool around him.

“Thanks.” Jensen smiled back at her, trying not to hold eye contact with her for longer than necessary, suddenly nervous to be near to her again.

After that afternoon, Jensen and Y/N had a standing meeting every Thursday afternoon in the dog park. As Jagger and Ringo played together, Y/N and Jensen would talk about everything they could before the dogs exhausted themselves. They discussed how they got the dogs, what they did for a living apart from dog walking (Jensen told her he worked at a brewery and Y/N told him she wrote for the paper), their favourite movies, books, music and more. By the fourth meeting, Y/N was hoping that he would ask her out on an official date. She knew she couldn’t be the only one feeling an attraction between them and wished more than anything that he would pluck up the courage and ask her. Maybe she would have to if he didn’t, but that was something she had never done before.

On the day of their usual meeting, Y/N and Jensen strolled the length of the park, walking Jagger and Ringo side by side. Every now and then, they would turn and smile at each other, as Jensen kept telling himself to open his mouth and ask her out on a date. Letting the dogs off their leashes, the owners watched on as they did every week, the dogs now absolute best friends. A brown leaf fell from the tree branch above Jensen and Y/N, landing on her nose and getting stuck there. Jensen laughed as he leaned over, using his thumb and forefinger to remove it.

“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. Their bodies were close, both of them in slightly warmer clothes now that the weather was turning.

“No problem,” he mumbled, smiling. He looked out ahead at the park, worrying his lip as he thought about how to approach the subject of asking her on a date. “Okay, so…”

“What’s up?” she asked,  her stomach fluttering at the thought that the moment had finally arrived.

“I, uh… I really like you, Y/N,” he told her, his smile becoming wider as he turned to her.

“I really like you too, Jensen,” she said, beaming up at him.

He sighed in relief, nodding. “Okay, so then… I would love to- I mean that is if you want to, I really want to take you on a non-dog park date.” Dear Lord, this isn’t going well he told himself as he cringed at his bad attempt to ask her out.

“You know…” She laughed as she looked into his eyes. “Must be hard with your sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”

Jensen chuckled nervously, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling as she winked.

A moment passed as they continued to look at each other. Jensen backtracked, a little more confident this time.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at her. “Y/N, would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

She smiled up at him, finding him so adorable in that moment. “Yes.”

The first date turned into a second. The second into a third. They would meet up in the dog park, some days with Jagger and Ringo, and others with all the others they would walk on a regular basis. With huddles of dogs of different breeds, they walked closer and closer to each other, stealing kisses and loving looks.

Dates and dog walking turned into getting down on one knee, the ring box clipped to Ringo’s collar as Jensen asked Y/N if she wanted to spend her life with him, with Jagger in tow.

They married in a small ceremony, with Jagger and Ringo at their feet, more than happy to be best fur friends forever.

And eventually… the news of an addition to their little family came, with Jensen and Y/N completely over the moon with the dogs getting a human brother or sister.

Y/N sat on the couch, smiling as she patted Jagger and Ringo’s heads, both of them sitting on either side of her, their noses close to her growing belly. Jensen walked in, a bowl of popcorn in his hand, settling into the couch next her, putting Ringo’s body over his legs. Y/N turned to him and leaned in, kissing his lips softly as he turned to her.

They say that dogs have great instinct.

And for that, Jensen and Y/N would always be grateful to have two fur companions that brought them into each other’s lives.

-x-

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[veorlian]

sacred rituals

for @kanejweek day 5: love (atypical affection & domesticity)

pairing: Kaz Brekker x Inej Ghafa

rating: T (they're talking about murder)

set a few weeks pre-canon so only minimal spoilers!

read it on ao3 here

Kaz rarely spent time on the main floor of the Slat unless he had to. He didn’t want the Dregs getting the wrong idea; he wasn’t their friend. Kaz Brekker wasn’t anyone’s friend.

Instead, he spent most of the time in his office, when he wasn’t walking the uneven streets of the Barrel. It was quiet, far removed from the raucous laughter and fighting and close quarters that generally filled the Slat. It was mostly warm, and mostly dry. Generally, everyone left him alone, and that was the way he preferred it.

Almost everyone.

The fact of the matter was this: Kaz preferred solitude, but he always kept his window open. Even on cold nights, when the wind chilled to the bone. Nights like this one. It was a kind of standing invitation, although he would never admit that. It was an invitation that was nearly always accepted.

He glanced down at the papers on his desk, and he felt the air shift almost imperceptibly.

“Hello Inej,” Kaz said, not looking up from his ledgers. The Wraith moved silently into the room, tugging down her hood.

“How do you do that?” she asked, not for the first time. His eyes flicked to hers before looking away.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he said. “Now, what did you find?”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she shrugged off her cloak and moved closer to the fire, stoking it from where it had burned down. Kaz pointedly did not pay attention to the way the firelight danced along her hair, the graceful movements of her hands as she warmed them.

“I checked every inch of the washroom, and I don’t have the faintest idea how they pulled it off,” Inej said. “It’s more secure than most mercher safes, from what I’ve seen. No trick tiles, no removable mirror, no vents. The only way in or out is the drain pipes, and I doubt anyone’s managed to train rat assassins.”

“If it was possible, I’d have done it by now,” Kaz replied. Inej snorted, and Kaz’s heart stuttered briefly.

“So that rules out rodent killers, then,” she said wryly. “Floor plan?”

“No trap doors, no secret entrances. No way in or out other than the front door.”

“The locked front door,” Inej finished. “You’d have to walk through walls to get in there. Maybe we’re looking for something otherworldly. Ketterdam’s got no shortage of ghosts.”

“None of whom can hold a knife,” he pointed out. “Present company excepted, of course.”

“Got any theories?” she asked.

He shrugged. “A thousand. None likely.”

“Tell me,” she said. She settled down next to the fire and took out her knives, one by one. There were three new ones, he noted. Soon enough he wouldn’t have to worry about her being injured at all — she was effectively wearing chainmail. Not that he spent time worrying that she’d be injured.

Kaz unfurled the floor plan on his desk and motioned for her to come look. Inej only raised a dark eyebrow.

“I’m half-frozen, Kaz. I’m not getting up until I thaw out,” she said.

“I don’t pay you to relax,” he replied, but he moved over to the fire and set the blueprints down between them. Inej leaned forward, tugging the paper towards her. Her eyebrows knitted together as she looked more closely.

“Where were the guards positioned?” she asked.

“Here, and here.” Kaz used a pencil to mark down the locations. “The main event was taking place here, and there were people with a view of the door here, here, and over there.” He sketched out the lines of sight, and made a note of the guard rotation.

“Whoever it was, they certainly didn’t make it easy for us,” she murmured.

"I doubt they had us in mind when they made the plan," he said dryly.

"Do you share your rapier wit with everyone, or am I the only one that has to suffer it?" she asked, not looking up from the blueprints.

“I notice you haven't offered any suggestions," he said. "Giving up already, Wraith?”

Her eyes met his, holding his gaze for a moment. “If I figure it out first, I expect waffles.”

He couldn’t help the wry smile that flickered across his face. “Dream on, Inej.”

She had perfected the art of silence, and she didn’t make a sound as she looked over the blueprints. The only sounds Kaz could hear were the gentle crackle of the fire and muffled fighting in the distance, filtering in through the open window. He looked everywhere in the room except at her.

“Alright,” she said at last. “Venomous snakes.”

He must have heard her wrong. “Venomous snakes?”

“Trained venomous snakes. Send them up through the drain pipes, they bite the victim, and then they’re well on their way before anyone’s the wiser.”

“There were no bites reported by my source,” Kaz said.

“That doesn’t mean there weren’t any. You know the coroners of Ketterdam aren’t renowned for their attention to detail. And if someone paid them to look the other way…” she let the sentence hang in the air a moment.

“Corruption and bribery? Awfully cynical of you,” he drawled. “What ever would your Saints say?”

She scoffed. “Moral posturing? From you?”

“Me? I’m a pillar of the community. Never set a foot wrong in my life,” he said, entirely deadpan. The look on her face was something that he might well treasure for years.

“Do you think I’m right or not?” she asked exasperatedly. Kaz shook his head, running a hand through his uneven hair to hide the small smile on his face. He realized with a jolt that he was having fun. It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with.

“All the pressure coming down from the top brass on this one, I doubt that kind of detail would be left out,” he said.

“And what’s your brilliant suggestion, Kaz?” she shot back. Good question, he thought.

“Easy. They bribed the guards and re-locked the door on the way out.” As he said it, he knew that it was weak. A rookie tactic, not something you’d pull to assassinate a high-ranking politician.

“Too risky,” Inej said, confirming his own thoughts. “Too many people there, and there’s no guarantee the guards wouldn’t sell them out. Like you said, too much pressure from the top brass.”

“I’m open to other ideas,” he replied, crossing his arms. Inej shrugged.

“Maybe he killed himself?”

“No weapons found. It’s like you’re not taking this seriously.”

“Still better than ‘they bribed all the guards and re-locked the door at a crowded political event,’” she said, in a passable impersonation of his voice.

They tossed ideas back and forth, each more unlikely than the last. Inej cleaned her knives, quietly setting each down next to her. The fire slowly burned down, casting long shadows across his office. At some point, Inej went to grab some food from the kitchen downstairs. She brought a mug of hot, bitter coffee and set it down next to him.

“Why, thank you, Inej,” she said, in that same rough impersonation of his voice. “How considerate of you to enable my caffeine addiction. So thoughtful and kind of you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Why would I bother thanking you when you do it for me?” Kaz asked dryly. Inej flashed a rude gesture in his direction before tucking into her dinner.

“It has to have been a Grisha,” Kaz said thoughtfully.

“I’m eating, Kaz, wait a minute,” Inej said around a mouthful of food. She looked pointedly at the second plate she’d brought up. “And it wouldn’t do you any harm to eat something other than coffee.”

Kaz narrowed his eyes at her, but he picked up the food all the same. They were quiet for a few minutes. When she’d finished, Inej shut her eyes and leaned back against the wall. There was a pause, long enough that Kaz began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep.

“That’s not how Grisha work,” she said at last.

“We’ve ruled out every other option,” Kaz argued.

“If Nina or Jesper could pull off something like this, we’d know about it,” she replied.

“And they’re the experts?”

“Certainly more than you are.”

“...I suppose.”

Inej raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Is Kaz Brekker admitting that I’m right?”

“Don’t push your luck, Wraith,” he warned. Her smile widened, and Kaz felt dizzy looking at her. He focused on his too-bitter coffee instead. He heard her let out a sigh.

“I don’t like this, Kaz,” she murmured. “If there’s someone this dangerous out there, I want to know who they are and what they're after.”

He risked a glance at her. The candlelight haloed her face in a way that bordered on angelic. He wondered — not for the first time — if her hair was as soft as it looked.

“I'm sure we'll find out. Someone with this kind of power won’t stop at one hit. I know I wouldn’t.” His voice was calm, but she was right. Anyone that could walk through walls was a very real threat, if only because they were competition.

“Should I go back to have a second look?” she asked. Kaz shook his head.

“If there was a way to crack this, we would’ve figured it out. The truth will come out sooner or later. This city leaks information like a sieve.”

They wouldn’t learn how it had been done for a few weeks. But by then, of course, they had other things to worry about.