#So then I scramble to get projects done to try and meet some goals but usually that means I scatter between projects

[icewindandboringhorror]

................ he 

[bonny-kookoo]

Carrots and Whiskers (JJK x Reader) 💜🔞🐾

🥕 Pairing: Rabbit!Jungkook x Wolf!Reader

🥕 Genre: Hybrid AU, fluff, smut because why not amirite-

🥕 Warnings: stereotyping, mild mentions of past bullying, fluff, oh god they’re so cute, Dom!Jungkook despite being technically food for Sub!Reader, Dirty talk, it’s sweet though he ain’t calling his baby a hoe don’t worry, unprotected sex because in this hybrid universe they’re unable to conceive due to their different species, please keep that in mind thank you, sweet sweet lovemaking, aftercare, buff boi JK, Big dick JK but what’s new I guess, yeah I’m done now

🥕 Summary: He’s the prey and she’s the predator. So why does she feel like the roles are reversed?

This is a oneshot! If you have any ideas for future content in this universe, feel free to send in asks or requests!

A reputation could easily define your entire life it it was bad enough.

Both sides knew this; Jeon Jungkook, being depicted as the cowardly prey hybrid he was, and Y/N, the bad bad wolf with always malicious intentions. However, none of these depictions were actually true.

Jeon Jungkook was an actually pretty rough and brave young man, never really backing down from a challenge, uncaring on who was in front of him. He got into trouble often as a kid, as a teenager, and now as a young adult.

Y/N was soft spoken, a caring yet quiet hybrid who liked to stay hidden, the spotlight being more of a fear than a goal for her. She loved the simple things in life, liked to be by herself or surrounded by people she trusted and loved.

And she also got a major crush on the bunny in her art and music class.

It was quite cliche really, yet it also wasn't- it was as if she was stuck in a bad joke, never to make it to the punchline. She knew for a fact that he probably didn't even knew who she was, and the worst part about it was that she couldn't even blame him. She loved to not be seen, after all.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Said the voice, forcefully hitting her as she looked up, her own eyes meeting the big brown orbs of-

wait.

"I eh, we're supposed to choose partners for this project, and I know for a fact that you can draw so eh, wanna be partners?" He asked, and she simply stared. Was he- talking to her? "I mean, Its okay if you don't want to-" He started, the squirrel hybrid girl behind him already perking up at her chance, making her swallow a bit.

"N-no, I uhm.. I'd like that." She squeezed out, voice quiet, but he thankfully still heard her. He smiled, brightly and so awfully cliche as his bunny-like teeth showed, sitting down next to her as he pulled out his sketches. "So uh, what did you have in mind.?" She quietly asked, and he talked away, as if he'd always known her.

"Well since we weren't given much other than the theme and colors, I made some small sketches. You know, I get Ideas that are pretty neat sometimes but then I forget them easily, so I have to draw or write them down right away, otherwise I'll wanna bite my own ass later on." He rambled on, gently moving the rough sketches towards her, his eyes watching her as she looked at them, carefully studying his lines.

"This- this one would fit, I think.." She mumbled, tapping on one of his more detailed drawings. He grinned again, nodding, seemingly in agreement. He attempted to say something as the bell rang, students around them both scrambling up to get out as soon as possible, either to catch a bus or to drive home on their bikes.

"Hey do you-" He stumbled, his foot catching on a stray chair as he almost fell. "Do you wanna meet up on the weekend? That way we can finish faster, you know, time to sleep in class." He said, and she simply nodded, until he held his hand out. Her head tilted to the side, ears flopping a bit as he chuckled, mumbling. "cute. Your phone, so I can give you my number?" He explained, and she blushed, stepping back a bit as she placed her bag down on the table next to her, pulling out her phone, charms on the device dangling, making him smile. She really was adorable. "Alright." He said as he took it after she'd opened the phone app, his fingers typing away, before he gave it back to her. "Do you take the bus home?" He asked, and she nodded. "Oh really? I thought the pink bike outside was yours actually." He chatted away as she walked next to him, now a bit shy.

"I actually.. well, I can't, you know, ride a bike, so.." She mumbled, and he laughed for a moment, until he went quiet, sensing that she was serious.

"I eh, I could you know, teach you, if you want?" He asked as he unlocked his own bike. "I mean, not now but like, this weekend?" He asked, and she looked a bit hesitant. "I mean, you don't have to. But I promise I won't let you get hurt." It seemed odd maybe, for a prey hybrid to say that to a predator, but for her, it seemed like the most cheesy and romantic thing she'd ever heard. So she smiled, and nodded. "I uhm.. I think your bus left-" He pointed out, making her ears droop as she watched the vehicle drive off without her. "I can bring you home. It's kind of my fault you missed it, after all." He said, scratching the back of his neck as he suddenly rumbled in his backpack, pulling out a zip hoodie, before folding it, and placing it on the bag of his bike. "My'lady." He offered, and she giggled, making his ears flinch in excitement.

She'd been unaware of him for long enough, and after a talk with his fellow friend Taehyung, he'd decided to finally act on his interest in her. Even though he did get some odd looks from his classmate Jimin, he didn't care about what she was- he cared more about who. Her drawings were always so detailed in a way that would show exactly what she'd though while creating each line, something he always found remarkable. She also had a talent for photography, a hobby he had for himself as well.

"Hold on tight okay?" He said, and she nodded, her arms moving around his waist, redness creeping onto her cheeks as she felt his toned body underneath his thin shirt and loose jean jacket. She held a bit tighter as he finally pushed the bike forward, paddling at a decent pace that made her hair flow a bit with the wind. She couldn't help but enjoy the moment; the way his smell calmed her, the scenery around her, and the fact that it seemed like everything was finally working out for her.

"I'm gonna let go now and you'll just-" He started, but she suddenly grew anxious, her wide eyes immediately finding his.

"no no don't let go I'm gonna fall-" She scrambled out, scared as he simply laughed, one hand on her back as he kept the other on the bike for now.

"I promised, didnt I?" He hummed into her ear, and she blushed at the gentle tone of his voice. He was everything she never thought a prey hybrid would be; he was cunning, brave, and confident in himself. He wasn't after attention at all, simply trying to live his life yet he pulled everyones gaze on himself wherever he went simply by nature. His ears seemed too soft to be legal in her opinion, black and white tuft of fur that was his tail seemingly completely out of place; the rest of his body was toned. It showed that he knew how to take care of himself, it underlined the way he held himself wherever he went.

He was the complete opposite of her it seemed.

She liked to hide in oversized clothing, hybrid features the only thing really giving away that she wasn't just a mouse in disguise.

To him however, it was an entirely different story.

She was so sweet, always trying to help, and always trying to not be a burden. She had so much talent, a unique way of seeing the world, and a gentle way of always looking out for others. It also didn't ease his crush on her that she was absolutely beautiful in his eyes; shorter in statue than him, surprisingly, but he was pretty tall for a rabbit hybrid, he had to admit. His mother had once told him about the different subspecies of wolves when she'd noticed his crush on the girl; her best friend having been a wolf hybrid as well when she'd still been in school. Apparently there were different subtypes for them; alphas, betas and omegas. He guessed that the girl on his bike was an omega, maybe, as it would explain all her characteristics.

"You're doing so great!" He said, bunny smile making her feel more confident as she noticed he only held her by her back; she was actually riding a bike. "See? You can do it!" He happily exclaimed as he helped her off, seat a bit high for her to get down herself. "Lets sit down there and exchange some sketches, yeah?" He offered, and she nodded with a smile, walking next to him as they both sat down on the grass, after Jungkook had put down a small blanket he'd taken with him. "Okay, hit me." He playfully shot her way, as she pulled out her sketchbook, simply sliding it towards him as he opened it, looking through the pages she'd opened for him. "Uah, these are great! I'd use a bit more color on these ones, but the rest is awesome!" He mumbled in thought as he proceeded to change the page, his eyes widening at a familiar pair of eyes, when two delicate hands held his wrist in place.

"Pl-Please uh, that's not for the project eh-" She stuttered, panic evident in her voice as her red face and tilted ears gave away her embarrassment. He simply stared for a moment, before his other hand simply loosened her grip on his wrist, freeing himself without much force. He slowly turned the page, revealing multiple rough sketches of..

Him.

It was him, not very detailed, but clearly visible. Small scenarios were drawn on the page, him staring out the open window of the classroom as he talked to friends, him at the sidelines of his basketball game as he'd taken a break, or him asleep on his desk during class. He studied the drawings, noticing how she'd not cared much about his clothing, or the background; even the desk or the window weren't really drawn very realistically, simply a fast sketch. What did stand out was.. well, his face. The way the sun reflected in his eyes, how his ears had been slightly damp from the slight rain outside, or the tiny things he would've never thought she'd notice about him, like the tiny beauty mark under his lower lip, the slight scar just above his cheek, or how the sides of his eyes crinkled when he laughed, nose scrunched up.

As he looked up she was looking down, hair hiding her eyes as her ears were flat against her skull, tail in her hands, which nervously fiddled with the fur. "I-" He started, before he began to open his own bag, ruffling around in it as his own ears lowered themselves while he tried to find something. "Hah!" He exclaimed in victory, hands sliding off the rubber band of his own folder which kept his messily organized sketches and finished works. He rummaged through them, before he started to lay some of them out in front of her, one by one. Slowly, her ears turned, attention on what he'd put down in front of her.

He always had a different way of drawing things, not really putting a lot of effort into the outlines or sketches themselves; but he had a way of coloring things, a unique style that made things feel almost alive. In every picture, he'd dedicated most of his effort to color the fur of her hybrid features almost perfectly- he also payed special attention to her postures in every picture. He never drew her eyes however- which she noticed. "I uhm.. I've never got the chance to see them up close, so I had a bit of trouble with them.." He explained. "I've noticed you pretty early when we shared our first classes together.. But I never really got around to talk to you. You and Namjoon-Hyung always seemed so close, I thought.." He revealed, scratching behind his own ear as he suddenly felt a bit bashful.

"You.. I mean, Joonie is a good friend but we uh.." She started, voice a bit low as she laughed a bit.

"I know, I know, he told me-" Jungkook answered, now chuckling. "Thats why I immediately took my chance when they'd announced the group project." He said. "It gave me a chance to you know, get to know you better. Get closer, you know?" He explained, and she nodded. "So uh.." He mumbled, before he smiled at her hopefully. "Wanna uh- get cake together today? Like a date?" He asked, and she nodded, making him suddenly jump up as he fist bumped the air, making a passerby elderly couple laugh. "Yes!"

"Carrot cake?" She asked, an almost teasing smile on her lips as he looked at her.

"What? Don't judge puppy!" He said, making her scoff scandalized.

"Hey, I'm a wolf, not a dog!" She explained as she stirred her milkshake with her pink straw before grabbing the spoon from her small metal plate.

"And I'm a rabbit, not a bunny. So guess we're even." He said, before his smile faded a bit, eyes stuck to the spoonful of whipped cream which made its way inside her mouth, tongue darting out to lick her lips clean before she noticed his gaze. He snapped out of it, suddenly the one growing a bit shy. "You uh.. wait, lemme just-" He mumbled, hand moving to wipe the corner of her mouth as he licked his finger clean himself, making her eyes widen before she mumbled a 'thanks' under her breath. He grinned.

"So uh-" He asked, pushing down his small cake fork to pick up a piece of cake, holding it out towards her. "open up?" He asked, and she hesitated a bit, before leaning forward a bit, lips parting. He placed the piece into her mouth, watching as she closed her lips, accepting his offering of food before she nodded her head approvingly. "See? Don't judge before you try!" He exclaimed, and she giggled at that.

He was right.

"I'm absolutely beat." He suddenly exclaimed, falling down onto the mattress laying on the ground in the corner of the new, unfurnished bedroom. The wolf hybrid sat down next to his sprawled out form, gently moving his blonde tipped hair away from his eyes. He'd dyed it months ago, his roots more than visible at this point, yet he'd simply decided to let it grow. "Come here~!" He playfully demanded, hands reaching out for her as he pulled her down with him, happily humming when she was laying on his chest. "Can you believe we're actually gonna live together from now on?" He asked, and she shook her head, moving around a bit so she straddled him, sat on his thighs as he suddenly watches her with hooded eyes, hands on her hips as his thumbs move in circles over the skin underneath her sweater- his sweater. "Hm.. I mean.." He offered, suddenly moving to sit up, changing position as she's now underneath him, his hair tickling her face slightly when he begins to kiss against her pulse. "I was about to ask if we should at least put up the bedframe, but having a mattress on the floor.." He started, hands wandering underneath the clothing of his she wore as he continued in a low voice. "..means I can't break the bed this time." He said, and she giggled at that, remembering the time their time together had been roughly interrupted by the weak frame of his old bed breaking. "Oh, my puppy thinks that's funny?" He wonders, making her grin as he kissed her deeply.

Moments like these made her almost forget the stereotypes she'd grown up with during her live- since Jungkook was nothing like the typically depicted rabbit hybrids. Because right now the roles seemed completely reversed, as he mouthed at her neck, feeling her pulse race as he continued to map out her body with just his hands, no need to watch where they were, able to seemingly paint a picture of her by touch at this point. Clothes suddenly seemed to tight, itchy, as if bitten by a mosquito. She whined as he chuckled darkly, helping her out of his sweater as he immediately grabbed her breasts, kneading them before he continued to undress her, making quick work of her shorts as he pulled down her underwear as well- her already glistening center clinging to the damp fabric of her underwear as she squirmed, making him humm in appreciation. He pulled his own shirt over his head as well, revealing his body to her as the sun outside painted glowing stripes onto it, the blinds drawing patterns on her skin as well. He finally freed himself from the confines of his own underwear as well, standing proud and ready as she became restless.

"Hm, puppy wants to be filled up yeah?" He asked with a teasing undertone, proudly making use of the privilege to be able to call her that- since she hated it when others did it. It was the same the other way around however; typically, being called a 'bunny' was an absolute insult to him, but for some reason it seemed like a cute nickname coming from her. Maybe he was just whipped. Or maybe she was just privileged as well.

He entered her slowly as he sighed alongside her, not wasting any time as he fell into rhythm, hips thrusting forwards as her hands reached for his, intertwining their fingers as he felt his soul warm up at the gesture. He felt so loved, so cherished, it made him fear for his heart, as he swore it stopped every time he was close to her like this. He felt complete, like he'd found his soulmate, his other half- it didn't matter to him what she was. Sure, his parents were a bit dissapointed since they couldn't have kids naturally because of this, but they both could always adopt in the future. Thinking about it made his heart swell as he thought about her, caring for their kids, making this small apartment into a family home one day. Maybe it was instinct, but he'd already been driven nuts by the way she'd helped him choose furniture and wallpaper for the small living space they'd be sharing; the simple fact that she wanted to make their apartment into a home feeding his inner instincts to build a home to keep her safe in.

He felt her legs shake a bit as he shifted a bit, making her whine as he suddenly picked up his pace, sweat already slowly beginning to coat his skin as he didn't seem to notice how the sound of skin against skin still echoed in the almost empty room since it lacked furniture- but it didn't matter for now anyways. They'd both fill it with things and memories of the both of them, and he couldn't wait for it. He huffed a bit as he moved, leaning down a bit to rest his forehead against her neck as she bared it for him, a natural instinct of hers to submit to him even if he was of another species with no need of such gestures. He'd adapted to it however, gently biting the skin as he felt her shiver underneath him, a sign that she was getting close. "Hm my baby wanna cum?" He asked, gently beginning to tease her as she nodded, eyes closed in bliss. "You want a knot huh?" He asked, and she shook her head no, as he chuckled. He'd felt a bit insecure the first few times around as he knew how things worked for canine hybrids, worried that he maybe couldn't give her what she wanted or needed, yet she'd always reassured him. Now it was more like a teasing thing for him, and a way to tickle a praise out of her- a way of reminding himself that she loved him just as much as she did her. "No? You don't?" She shook her head again, her fingers holding his hands tighter. "What do you want then, huh?" He asked with a grin as she whined.

"You- you, only want ngh.. only need Kookie-!" She pressed out, and he hummed approvingly, his thrusts beginning to grow sloppy as he neared his end.

"That's right, only me, only mine, yeah?" He asked, and she nodded, suddenly opening mouth as her head buried itself into the mattress below her, clenching around him as he groaned out, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled. "Thats it, take it like a puppy- good girl!" He praised, making her whine as he leaned his body down, kissing her neck, her throat, and then her lips as they both calmed down from their highs, breathing slowly growing more and more even as he moved a bit to grab a box as he slid it towards him, rummaging through it before he took out a roll of kitchen towels, grabbing a few as he slipped out of her, carefully catching his release and her own juices as to not make a mess. He had a gentle smile on his face as he carefully cleaned her up before he stood, walking towards another box where he pulled out a large pillow and a few blankets, instincts taking over as he began to cover her now rapidly cooling body in soft fabrics before cuddling up next to her, pulling another blanket over his own form as he made sure his partner was comfortable. She slipped out of her makeshift blanket burrito to invite him in, making him grin his signature bunny smile as he held her close, skin on skin as he closed his eyes, the only light in the room the streetlamps outside.

This already felt like home.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO CONTINUE THE DROWNED SERIES, IT'S SO DAMN GOOD

Thank you for the ask, it makes me excited to see that people are still interested.

Drowning Part 10

@shydragonrider @asrasmysoulmate @sunflower1000

This one is kind of short, and probably makes no sense, but it starts to explain the story line a bit more and what my goal is with Supervillain (and perhaps the reason I am not having him rescued... yet 👀). Anyway, not edited.

Ask games for this series are here and here.

Masterlist

Warnings: referring to person as "it", altered state of reality, dehumanization, muzzled, talk of surgery, weaponizing a human, fear

~

"Okay thank you for your cooperation," the director said as he stopped the recording. He looked up, smiled, and began to pack away his things- an array of various instruments to enable both Villain and Hero's voices to be clearly heard all the way at the Hero Facility.

"Yeah well, I expect my pay within the next two days," Villain crossed his arms and swung his leg over top of the other one.

"That may not be-"

"Director. I am doing this for you guys. I have my record cleared, Hero in my custody, and a billionaire. I don't need to this for you guys."

"But you are in love with the cash," Hero chimed in, rolling her forestry green eyes. Not with attitude or snarky annoyance, but out of pure loathing.

Villain shot her a glare the second she closed her mouth and stood up, pacing. "I want my pay, fifty-thousand for a mere conversation isn't something you come by everyday," he said, rubbing his hands through his blonde mane.

"Yes but-"

"The only reason it was fifty-thousand," Hero interrupted the director. "Is because you pushed it that far." She didn't exactly understand her exasperation. After all, she agreed to do this with him- not that she had a choice. She was, in fact, thankful for him for breaking her out of the facility, even to the point of restoring friendship.

"Well they consented..." Villain's voice trailed off as he stopped his aimless walking. He sneered, a mischievous look dawning on his face. "I could, just for the record, break Supervillain out of his cell easily. Actually, I bet a novice could."

The director stiffened, fingers tapping the screen on his phone, prepare to call the authorities. Hero smiled slightly. After her aided escape, the heroes didn't bother to recapture her or Villain. And it was all because her rescuer threatened the Hero Facility if they tried to reclaim her. It was like he controlled the heroes- and maybe in a way, he did.

"Okay you will get the money! Write him a check or cash him over some. I don't care, just give it to him."

Villain snickered at the director's desperation and fear.

Hero watched as a young girl scribbled a check and handed it to Villain. Then, after than transaction, the whole team wrapped up and left without another word.

"Hmm," Villain said, eyeing the check he possessed.

"What do you want for dinner?" Hero asked, repeating the lines her current maid position required of her- not that she had to, Villain was not strict enough to enforce rules, but cleaning and cooking seemed to put his explosiveness at ease.

"Nothing. I have a date."

A date?!

"You have a girlfriend?" Hero chuckled. "Who is the unlucky damsel?"

"That's besides the point, but she is quite pretty."

"How long have you been dating?"

"This is our third date within the course of two months."

Two months... that was duration of time since she and Supervillain were kidnapped.

"Not that consistent then," Hero commented instead of voicing her curiosity.

"She works as a nurse, so she is quite busy," Villain replied, folding the check and placing it in his jean's pockets.

"I see," Hero replied. "Where is your date? Please tell me you are not taking her to McDonald's."

"That coffee date in the park sounded great," Villain replied. "Then I was thinking Taco Bell."

"No, no, no!" Hero scolded, pushing herself to her feet. "You are not taking this poor girl on a date to a fast food restaurant. You are a billionaire, Villain. Take her to one of those places where they serve an ounce of food for thirty dollars and spoil her."

Villain blushed, pulling at his fingers nervously. "You know a couple months ago I thought I would be taking you on a date."

"Me too," Hero sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

"I guess life took a turn, didn't it?"

"Yes," Hero replied, extending her arms and wrapping Villain in an embrace. Before she let go, she whispered:

"Torture was in that turn to, wasn't it?"

Villain's muscles tensed, he coughed and pulled away. "See you tonight," he said and ran up the stairs to go get changed.

《~~》

All at once, a piece of light, a string of consciousness sprouted through the dark unconsciousness of the patient's mind. It swirled, bombarding lidded eyes with intolerable brightness. They strained, trying to shut, but it was as if the motor lost control- or gained control, depending on which side of the metaphor you are one.

Then the light formed into various shapes, some holding objects of humanoid form whereas others were cubical, rectangular and circular- making the world around the patient pixelated and blurry. Colors rounded to the basis of their hue- cyan swirling into blue, pale yellow whisking itself into an off-white- until the world was a pallette of bland coloring.

The noise, lolling in a sense, but also increasingly obnoxious. Beeps and rings, rumbles and grumbles, but all the vowels and consonants equaled a series of off-tune words, some faded, others marked with clarity.

Not safe, were the only cognitive thoughts. Not safe not safe not safe. He tried to thrash, anything to get away from the looming danger, though his protruding limbs were too weak, will devoid of any resolve.

More sounds rumbled and purred around him as equally slow restraints grappled at his arms and legs- or were they fast paced? The man didn't know. The perception between reality and unreality was dim, as was his ability to process sleed and direction. Heck, he didn't even know his own name, just the anticipated danger.

He coughed, or tried to, some form of blockade in his mouth inhibited any sound, cough or otherwise, to escape. Tears pricked at his eyes, later streaming down his cheeks- he wanted to go home. Home to that dank apartment that couldn't seem to leave his very intellect. He wanted home, needed home...

The shapes around him once again began to evaporate, but this time instead of mixing into like shades and tones of color, they all shifted to one mass of brown-colored mud before it all vanished into blackness again.

《~~》

"Vitals?"

The doctor's voice ran throughout the room as nurses scrambled to check Supervillain over. The room soon sung with a chorus of "Good".

"Then everyone is dismissed other than Doctor and Medic," a new voice, equally as authoritive yet significantly much more of a feminine type.

All the nurses practically galloped out of the room as a hoard, not daring to look at the woman who just stepped in.

"Leader," the doctor greeted the woman. "What brings you here?"

"I've come to look at the project. I heard it just underwent surgery?" The lady spoke, walking up to the bed where the unconscious patient rested.

"Yes, knee replacement surgery," the doctor replied, joining Leader by the bed. Medic appeared across from them, tenderly rubbing her fingers over the supervillain's hand.

"Fifteen hours on the table," Leader continued to speak, observing Supervillain with contempt in her gaze. "Why?"

"We had to replace the entire knee cap with a newly engineered material made from cells of donors and a type of substance formed from titanium to enhance strength and durability. Then we had to connect the nerves and ligaments to the knee so he can control it like normal."

"Also known as a high-tech prosthetic? Why, may I ask, did my project have to get one?"

"Broken knee..."

"Shattered, Doctor," gray eyes darted around to meet the doctor's humble brown ones. "Not broken, but completely shattered. It needs to be fully operational by the end of the month."

"Ma'am, the recovery is going to be rough-" the doctor tried to protest.

"We have serums for that," Leader groaned, throwing her head into the air.

"It is not safe to drug him with much. His cells and blood need to adapt."

"I don't care. I put a lot of time and effort and money into this project. The enemy is going to launch an attack soon, our spies have gathered enough data to anticipate it by the end of the month. You have been soft Doctor, in his training."

"It's been working," the doctor reasoned.

"It's submission, not training. Ever hear of conditioning?"

"I have done some research into it and I believe that we need to take a more-"

"Yes you are right," Leader smiled. "I don't want a bodyguard. I want a weapon with one, single purpose. Eliminate Hero."

"I don't get that," Medic spoke up, her voice soft, yet filled with courage. "Why get rid of Hero when she is not the enemy?"

Leader chuckled, eyes thinkling. "What an ignorant little girl, so cute though. Did you do your make-up today? Hmm." The baby talk rapidly switched to a more serious tone, "She is a threat, even bigger than this newfound enemy. The moment she joins sides, which we know she will, the odds will be... let's say any attempt to stop them will be suicide."

"We contained her once before..."

"She will be mad, you'll see," Leader acquired a distant look in her dreary gray eyes. "Start weaponizing it. Immediately."

《~~》

Run.

Duck.

Jump.

"I love you."

"Love you more."

Punch.

Supervillain was panting for breath by the time he collapsed on the ground, exhausted to the highest extent. Sweat beaded around his hairline- recently trimmed in a convenient, yet flashy style, with a lightning bolt shaved into the side.

"I love you."

"Love you more."

Supervillain groaned, rubbing shaking hands over his face. Turn it off turn it off turn if off...

Everyday started with a morning workout in the gym. The gym had a track running around the whole thing with obstacles for him to duck under and jump over. The center only had a punching bag and a benchpress, but equally sweaty and daunting.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker rang, signaling that Supervillain could leave.

Once, of course, training was done.

Workouts weren't training, they were extra credit designed to get him further, to get him a higher GPA.

The doctor entered the room, so Supervillain stood up- respect, expected and therefore delivered.

"How many laps?"

"Twenty-five, sir."

The doctor took note of that on his clipboard, frowning before asking his speed.

"5 miles per hour, sir."

This time, the doctor smiled. "Good," he praised, then looked at the benchpress.

"Three hundred pounds," the doctor tapped the dumbbell with his pen, still grinning widely. "Nice work, but yesterday you did three-fiftey."

Supervillain whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. He failed he failed he failed he failed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, proceeding to walk towards the nearby intern to receive the needed correction.

The intern raised her hands, holding a contraption of metal and leather, and slipped it into Supervillain's mouth. He whimpered upon feeling the cold metal slid onto his tongue. A leather strap held it in place, tightly buckled in the back of his head. From that extended more leather that went over his nose. A chain was linked through the nasal strap, more cold metal on warm skin.

Abruptly, he was pulled forward. The metal pinched that nerve- the one that always ached from the commonly given treatment.

The intern pulled him into yet another white room.

Yet this one contained the most dreaded torture implement.

[demenior]

Dem’s Big Post About The Spn Fics Part 1/2

aka The Wrap Up to celebrate To Exist Again and To Become a Man now being finished!

(This will be a long post. This is your only warning.)

Admittedly this is a bit of a weird thing to be doing, but I wanted to try it out for 3 reasons: 

I love talking about my own work and 

It functions really well as a self-reflective tool for me to improve on, and 

I can answer some big questions people might have because there was a LOT of worldbuilding in these stories. 

We’ll start off with reflective stuff, and move into the juicier world-building focused stuff later into the post. There will be major spoilers for both fics to come!

To begin with a funny anecdote, Why Did I Write These Stories?

I was beginning to write and work out the story that I wanted to write for Spn (what will now be To Destroy a Man. As I was writing the scene, I realized I had a LOT of ideas and while I was trying to avoid as much exposition as I could, it became quickly apparent that I was needing to create my own au (this scene eventually became chapter 34 of To Become a Man). A short prequel seemed like a good idea, to quickly hash out the ‘prior’ events that I needed to go through so all the readers could be on the same page. While plotting out prequel points, I realized Sam and Dean were going to have drastically different experiences during the same time period, and I was trying to figure out who’s pov would be better for which scenes, and how to keep momentum when they’re going through such radically different types of changes. Ultimately I decided to split their povs, which I also thought would be a fun project! And I naively assumed each pov would take about 2 chapters each, rounding out to maybe 15k total.

I had my ending points: Dean n Cas soul-merged and (basically) married, Cas on the lam from heaven and a complete anomaly, and Sam juiced up full of powers and a weird mix of archangel and antichrist but still 100% human and ready to fight God. 

Now I needed to add weight to these changes, so I wrote 200k of build-up.

Am I proud of these fics?

OF COURSE I AM!!! These are the longest fics I’ve ever written AND finished AND in the fastest freakin turnaround ever (both were finished writing, barring edits, in like 6 months holy shit)

I didn’t write a single scene that I “didn’t” want to write. If I had trouble writing it, as in it was fighting me, I scrapped it. Most obviously was the scene in Dean’s pov where he and Sam were intended to meet some other hunters and Dean declines working with them because he’s nervous about being outed as queer. It was meant to be a good scene! I wanted to introduce some new characters! But it just wasn’t working so I said ‘thank you, next!’. 

But it means this story was an absolute joy to write. Because for a while all I was doing was ‘if I wanted to write one scene into supernatural, what would I write?’ and then just DID that!! It’s why there’s a lot of ‘Salmondean do dumb shit or have really dumb heartfelt conversations’ scenes.

Would I change anything?

If I’d been less eager to start sharing, I might have planned out the story beats a little tighter so there were less ‘soft’ chapters and a draw/pull for people to come back and keep reading. I felt Dean’s story specifically lagged at points and could have used some tighter editing (there was a noticeable lull in directed movement between Dean n Cas getting together, until Sam corrupts Amy).

I also probably would have held Sam’s story until I’d finished Dean’s so I could make the two line up better! Probably could have inserted more scenes into Sam’s fic that way, and made sure things were a little more consistent. In an ideal world one concept I had was to release 1 chapter from each pov every week that would correspond to the same time frame so we’d be getting real-time SalmonDean pov narrative. Unfortunately that didn’t work!

The biggest takeaway overall is for me to focus more on what moves the plot, and to make my scenes do more than 1 thing so I can cut down on wordcount and increase my efficiency. 

Of course every writer will find things they want to fix in anything they’ve ever written, so these are minor “mistakes” at best. I’m so dang proud of these fics. 

Onto more interesting things!

How Did I Put These Fics Together (because it’s different than anything I’ve ever done before)

Normally when I write a story, I plan out the beats I need to hit, see where I need to insert any kind of foreshadowing/buildup, and then write from A to B to C and so on and so forth. Hence, this is why I can normally post things as I complete chapters, because it’s all a linear progression. 

For these two stories, rather than linear plot/a normal story structure, I just sat and free-wrote any and every scene that came to mind and then pieced them into a kinda-linear form like putting a quilt together. You’ll note that this is why there’s not a lot of internal callback or a feeling of sense of time flowing within the fic (save for points where I went back and specifically edited it in). How long does the story take place over? Hard to say! Your author has the barest grasp on linear time even on a good day (how many times did I say ‘see you on [wrong day]’ at the end of chapters lmaaoooo)

This also meant EXTENSIVE editing on the back end once I decided in what order I wanted my ‘quilt pieces’ to be. Hard to say if this is a bonus or a negative!

But I did want to try and capture the vibe of the lives they lead, as a bit of a ‘slice of life’-style story, when the slice of life is the profound weirdness of the Winchester roaming life, and how things are status quo- until everyone almost dies oh shit!! And then they have to keep living because no therapy we die/undie like Winchesters. Do I think I captured this effectively? Hmm. Good question. 

Dem where the FUCK did the inspiration for a lot of the magic and creature weirdness even come from?

Honestly? Music, primarily. And completely mishearing lyrics!

Nightwish ‘Ever Dream’: the line is ‘my song can but borrow you grace’ and because my brain is scrambled eggs on a good day, I heard ‘grace’ ‘song’ and ‘borrow’ in that order and have had, for YEARS, the mental image of Cas borrowing Dean’s soul to power himself up for battle.

From there I’ve always been enamored with the ‘wavelength of celestial intent’ descriptor that Cas drops in s6 for “what he is”. 

I also really like ocean metaphors mostly because I’ve been obsessed with the ocean and things in it since I was like… 5??? So really this was me just rolling with what I know lmao. I love using (somewhat) accurate scientific metaphors for very intangible things!

I was also finishing my degree in biology/ecology while writing these fics and I think it shows

Stars ‘The Night Starts Here’ gives us the series title and the fic titles. Except for ‘To Exist Again’. TEA was almost titled ‘The Upwards Fall’ because I wanted all 3 of the Main Stories to have titles from this song, but I couldn’t make anything else work in tandem with the series name ‘The Love It Takes’ while also working for Sam’s personal story. So Sam, as always, is the rebel <3

Stars ‘Up In Our Bedroom, After The War’ is basically the vibes of the whole story. TFW has been, literally, to hell and back!!! There’s a bit of melancholy and sadness, a lingering dark, but the chance of a bright new tomorrow and a soft start.

Let’s Talk About Themes in The Story! What were you looking to accomplish? 

My earliest notes for TFW are, as follows:

Dean’s journey of self-discovery (who am I when I’m not trying to be Dad?)

Dean wants to settle down! He wants a big family! He wants to be domestic!

Basically: Dean doesn’t want to have a short life of hunting. He wants to live!

Dean’s journey of realizing he’s bi, and him accepting that

Dean’s relationship to Sam is both older brother/parent 

And continuing Dean balancing these roles while also letting Sam be an adult 

Dean’s Big Issues/Fears about never being good enough for people to want to stay with him (these are effectively highlighted in that Cas thinks he’s not useful enough to be wanted)

Sub Plot:

Castiel’s autonomy

Cas’ fall from grace, to trying to restore Heaven, to wrecking it further

He’s majorly depressed by the end of s7 (before purgatory)

Wants to stay in Purgatory but doesn’t tell Dean

Remains depressed after leaving, but resolved to keep living on because he’s clearly meant for something

After the seraphim reveal: does he have free will?! How does he grapple with this? How does he live in a way he can be proud of?

And lastly

Sam gets his powers back CAUSE THATS HOT

where tf did they go????

he got them from Lucifer?????

sleeper agent??????

Sam is The Chosen One

Accepts that he is More Than Human and to celebrate all parts of him

Lucifer and Sam friends?? Work together????

Sam needs autonomy in his choices/his life

If you compare these to the overall arc of TFW within the two stories, I think I got a lot of them! But you’ll also note a lot of these things aren’t concrete goals that are easily measurable (ex: Dean wants to learn to bake pie. In chapter 1 he starts a fire in the kitchen. By the end of the story he finally makes A Good Pie.) part of the lack of concrete milestones was why I felt it was important to tell Dean (and Cas’) story by going back to the point they meet, in s4! Dean’s gradual change towards his feelings for Cas, his relationship to Sam (heavily influenced by the s7 events of this fic) and then his own relationship with himself were such slow burns that I felt it would be a disservice to try and cram a change like that into a timeline like “1 year”.

I felt like these subtle changes and adjustments actually felt a lot truer to life-- people often change in very small, gradual ways over time, even without realizing it and often times not consistently! If only we could all gain skills like the sims, where we can easily level up and remain at that high level of performance! 

So the Guy Who Ate Satan, A Celestial Nuke that Developed Sentience, and Dean walk into a bar…

Sam’s story in Spn The Show has always been a ‘chosen one’ kind of narrative. Sam is living with one foot in the realm of the monsters, and I wanted to bring that back full force! It really makes sense for him that he should only continue to grow in power, might, and magic!! As the story progresses.

Cas also got a power up! I do desperately love in the show that he was kind of a grunt/nothing angel, and so even when he defected to TFW he was a huge help for them, but in the scale of things he was an annoying fly to most other angels. It really worked for the underdog story of s4/5. In this I wanted to give him a power up, and originally it was actually going to be close contact with Sam that eventually changed Cas into something unknown (you can still see traces of this in ch34 of TBAM, where Death remarks ‘Castiel could be [Sam’s] first creation’. But for a combo of reasons: how Sam’s magic needed to have intent, the entire concept of free will and consent, and how much I wanted Dean and Cas to have their effect on each other, I decided to go with the route that Cas has actually always been something angel-adjacent rather than becoming something new. TFW/Supernatural has always been about free will and making your own story, so I amplified that with Cas.

Dean has always been A Normal Guy, which is part of the appeal of him and Sam (2 normal dudes!) taking on the Very Not Normal. As explained above, Sam’s story is ‘normal guy finds out he’s the chosen one’ and so, in a story about very large concepts and huge monsters and acts of magic, I felt it was very important to keep Dean as normal as possible. To the point it became a running gag to me, personally, in that ‘no matter what cool shit happens around him, Dean has to stay as Just A Guy’. And it’s a very humanizing role that allows the story to have the scale it does!

What were the most important themes in your story?

Sam’s Autonomy

I wasn’t even going to include the plot about Lucifer’s death in this story— that was going to come up in a later story, actually! And rather than Sam having ate Lucifer, the original idea was that they’d become a SamandLucifer entity (this harkens back to a concept I wanted to write when Swan Song first aired). 

That storyline would have involved a lot of mental ‘Sam and Lucifer discuss what it means to live, which one of them is more worthy of life and if they do deserve to destroy the world for the pain they’ve been forced to go through, just to create the dichotomy of good and evil for everyone else’ discussions. There would be a lot of talk about how Sam hates and fears Lucifer for the pain Lucifer put on Sam, how Lucifer hates Sam because he and Sam are the same but Sam’s brother loves him anyways, etc. 

Ultimately that was scrapped because Sam’s entire story in the show is always about how the world and everyone around him manipulates him and that he never actually gets to make choices about his own life or body that aren’t influenced or part of someone elses’ design. And that always bothered me that Sam was never allowed to be himself without having to be ashamed of it, and I wanted to make sure that Sam’s triumph of being proud of himself/proudly choosing to exist (again) was evident in his story

In the end I needed Sam to have this visceral win over his tormentor. As the story shows, in this case Lucifer was abused and put into a position where he was incapable of empathy and could only express himself in violence. Sam even understands this! But it doesn’t change the fact that Lucifer tortured Sam in unimaginable ways for thousands of years. 

With that in mind I didn’t like the idea of Lucifer and Sam having “co-ownership” of their new identity, so I made the choice that Sam had to be the survivor. This tied in well with Sam’s new crusade to restore free will to the universe, because he’s breaking the narrative of his own story!

While Castiel wasn’t a pov character, his own autonomy and free will was equally as important. You’ll note that many, many paragraphs and conversations revolved around that theme and that in the end Cas followed himself (and love!) which ensured his freedom of self <3

The Brothers are WEIRD PEOPLE!!!! And Codependent to a Worrying Degree, but It’s Also How They Survive

It’s very hard to show “unusual” relationships when you’re writing from the pov of the two people who don’t think there’s anything weird about their relationship. Sure, they say ‘yeah it’s probably weird that we still share a bed’ but that’s kinda more in line with ‘I had a nightmare and I want to be close to the person who makes me feel safe’. Hashtag normalize co-sleeping when you need it!!!

From there I did try to point out how the boys have a weird perception of lifestyle in the little things they did. 

From thrifting everything from clothes to appliances to books (thrifting is a valid lifestyle! It’s incredibly handy when you’re on a budget.) 

To never actually having condiments or knowing how to use a dishwasher cause they’ve lived in a car, a motel room, or squatted in old houses their whole life.

I tried to have them wear each others’ clothes or casually swap things as much as possible. They live out of each others’ pockets!

Also the brothers are just weird people!! It’s hard to show from their pov, cause they don’t know how far off from normal they are, but like…

Everything about Sam and Amelia was NOT right like holy shit those two were wilding in their grief. They are very lucky things worked out for them and that they got to be hashtag Weird Girls together

Dean explicitly, in the story, gets horny after killing stuff!! Violence has done a number on his psyche and he’s gotten some wires crossed that maybe shouldn’t have been, or maybe could be worked out in a safe space but… uh… how likely do we think Dean is gonna go find a safe space to deal with any of his shit???

LOVE!!! Love is truly what this whole story is all about

If you’ve read the stories, you know how much emphasis I put on love. Love is the strongest force in the Spn Universe! It’s what averted the apocalypse and saved the world (Swan Song), it’s what created free will (Cas’ entire arc!) I love love!!!!

I went out of my way to not put any definitions on platonic love vs romantic love because I think love is love is love and how you express that is the difference. Neither is more powerful than the other because LOVE is powerful!! Sam and Cas are the most important people in Dean’s life and he loves them equally! He shows this by giving Cas kisses and stealing Sam’s socks.

It’s a personal pet peeve of mine when I have to hear explanations like ‘I love you, like a brother’ or ‘I love you, but like, as a friend because I’m a lesbian and you’re a man’ etc etc in media. If you have to continuously define how your characters love each other, then I don’t think you’re doing a good job of portraying their relationship. So you’ll see that I never put those parameters in any conversation. Dean DOES muse that he loves Cas differently than he loves Sam or Bobby, specifically because there is a romantic and sexual tone that his feelings for Cas takes, but not because he loves Cas more or less than he loves Sam or Bobby.

Which means, if you haven’t realized it yet, the Series + Fic Titles are meant to be a complete sentence because the power of love IS the thesis of this series:

The Love It Takes To Exist Again (Sam’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Become a Man (Dean’s journey!)

The Love It Takes To Destroy a Man (TBA)

And now for fun stuff. Behind the scenes!!

What’s Something People Probably Don’t Know?

The demonic fungal/hydrothermal vent growth on Sam’s arm was thrown in literally as I was posting the chapter because I had just finished a 48 hour cram session of writing a report on tube worms for an ecology class (I was chanting my tube worm song as I wrote it) and it ended up being a HUGE hit with both readers and myself. But it was so last minute I had trouble fitting it in more throughout the rest of Sam’s story!

Cas’ orders? That may or may not have bound him to Dean and removed his free will? Were written into Sam’s story and I went ‘oh SHIT that’s compelling’ and then left them there as a ‘guess I’ll figure that out when I get to Dean’s story lol’

Originally Dean and Cas were supposed to get together after having their souls bonded, and have been in a UST limbo the entire time before that. Mostly because I think the entire concept of ‘we just got married of the soul I guess we should try dating?’ is very funny. CLEARLY the two of them were way more eager to fall in love than I anticipated (thank you Cas for your honesty) but you can still see shades of this original idea here and there (especially in ch35 of TBAM)

I never intended Dean and Benny to connect so well!! Benny was going to reunite with Andrea, she was going to live, and they were going to go off into the world and leave the story. And, uh, here we are. I’m still debating if I need to adjust the relationship tag or not haha. Polyamory is fun, especially when I was planning for Sam to be the polyamorous brother...

Speaking of, I can’t believe I forgot about Sam and his sexuality! If I rewrote TEA I would have had Sam contemplate more on his lack of sexual appetite due to trauma, up until he meets Benny and he gets to rediscover how he wants to be a sexual person

Many of Sam and Dean’s absolutely stupid sibling conversations were lifted near-verbatim from conversations I’ve had with my siblings

And lastly...

Dem where’s Kevin????????????? Where is our sweet baby boy????????

He’s SAFE!! He’s in the Hunter pipeline somewhere cause Sam handed him off to Bobby’s people. He and his mom are safe and at some point they probably got rib sigils like SalmonDean did against angels, but for demons. I didn’t have room in this story for him!!! But my baby boy is SAFE and I want to get him back to university because it’s WHAT HE DESERVES!!!!

To that point: god there were/are SO many characters that I just didn’t include in the story so far because I didn’t feel comfortable including them without stalling the story for them. To that point: pretty much everyone who is alive/dead in s8 is that way in this story, except Bobby who gets to live.

[Check Out Part 2 for reader questions!]

[remywrites5]

Happy Birthday, Fel!

It’s not still @casualmaraudering ‘s birthday where she is but it still is where I am so I’m counting it! Just something short a sweet (because some friends don’t bother to tell you that their birthday is coming up so you have to scramble to write a thing! Anyway - hope you like it and Happy Birthday!!!)  ****  Remus had imagined that his university years would be spent making lots of friends and finally getting himself a boyfriend. Instead, it had consisted of a lot of homework, a lot of crying, one friend, named Regulus Black, and no boyfriend to speak of. Remus had found himself crushing on Regulus just a bit, until he learned that Regulus was aroace, and therefore completely uninterested in Remus as anything other than a friend. It hadn’t taken Remus long to get over his crush, after all, it was barely a crush to begin with.

           Remus and Regulus were sitting across from each other, working on their group project for their art history class, or at least pretending to do so in between sending each other memes.

“Oi, you wanker!”

           Remus glanced up in surprise and caught Regulus cringing. Regulus’ shoulders hunched forward, as if he were trying to make himself invisible. Remus blinked a few times, caught off guard by Regulus’ reaction, and looked around for the source of the voice.

           Someone was approaching their table, bounding over like an overexcited puppy, a big grin on his face. He looked exactly like Regulus, except his hair was a bit longer, his face a bit softer, where as Regulus was all sharp angles.

           Remus was about to ask Reg if he was okay when the stranger dropped into the chair next to Reg and put his arm around him. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

           “Of course I did,” Regulus said bitterly. “Why do you think I was hiding?”

           “That’s mean.”

           Regulus sighed. “What do you want, Sirius?”

           Sirius grinned and pulled Regulus closer, nearly choking him. “Well, first I want you to introduce me to the hot pink-haired boy across from you.”

           Regulus shoved Sirius’ arm away. “Remus Lupin, this is my idiot twin brother, Sirius.”

           “Oi, don’t introduce me like that!” Sirius said, scandalized. “I never see you around campus and this is how you behave?”

           “We’re in different departments,” Regulus reminded his brother. “I don’t have much reason to visit the foreign language department. Also, I avoid you at all costs.”

           “Rude,” Sirius said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I was going to buy you a coffee, too.”

           “Only if you buy one for Remus too.” Regulus stipulated, gesturing towards Remus. Remus froze as suddenly both brothers’ attention focused on him. It really was unfair that people could be that attractive. Remus felt heat rising to his cheeks at the unwavering glances.

           “Hi,” Remus said, giving a little wave and then immediately regretting it. He felt so unbelievably stupid.

           “Hello,” Sirius practically purred, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hand.

           “It’s – uh – nice to meet you,” Remus said, glancing away. “Regulus never mentioned having a twin brother.”

           “What?” Sirius shouted, turning towards his brother accusingly. “How have you never mentioned me?”

           “Because you’re embarrassing,” Regulus responded, kicking at Sirius under the table. “Now go get our coffees.”

           “Fine,” Sirius said, gracefully standing up. He pulled his long, dark hair up into a ponytail and grinned. Remus pretended it wasn’t doing things to him. It was very nearly an insurmountable task.  “Only because I am such an awesome brother.”

           “Don’t get ahead of yourself there,” Regulus told him, typing something on the keyboard of his laptop.

           Sirius glared at him for a moment and then quickly reached over and smashed a few of the keys, ruining whatever it was that Regulus was typing.

           “You’re so childish!” Regulus said, jamming his finger on the backspace key.

           Sirius laughed and walked over to Remus’ side of the table. “So what kind of coffee do you like?”

           Remus played with one of his curls nervously. “Uh, anything mocha is fine, but you really don’t have to – “

           “Nah, I got you,” Sirius said, nudging Remus with his elbow. “Be right back!”

                                                                       ***

           Remus didn’t think much of his bizarre run-in with Regulus’ brother. After all, it was a large campus, they were unlikely to meet each other again. Remus wasn’t about to go crazy over some guy he barely knew, especially when he figured Reg would have a problem with it. Remus wasn’t about to risk his one friend on some guy who probably wasn’t interested in the first place.

           There was an LGBTQ+ dance that Remus was determined to attend on campus. His goal of finally getting a boyfriend hadn’t changed, and since he barely socialized with anyone except Reg, this felt like the perfect opportunity to meet someone. Regulus had refused to go with Remus, so Remus was stuck going on his own. It was taking all of his courage to walk through the door by himself. He clutched the ticket he’d bought in his hand like a lifeline and tried to calm his nerves.

           “Hey,” Someone whispered behind Remus, their breath on Remus’ ear, making him shiver. Remus turned his head and came face to face with none other than Sirius Black. Remus swallowed thickly and took a quick step away.

           “Hi Sirius,” Remus said, gripping his ticket even tighter. “Are you going to the dance as well?”

           “It’s worse than that,” Sirius said with a lazy grin. “I actually helped organize it.”

           “Wow,” Remus said, impressed. “That’s amazing.”

           Sirius chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “Is it? I was mostly roped into it by my friend, Marlene.”

           “I think it’s great,” Remus said, smiling encouragingly. “I’ve been meaning to become more involved in club stuff.”

           “Well, we meet every Thursday in you’re free,” Sirius said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He looked stylish in a black suit, perfectly tailored, his red tie undone around his neck and a few buttons undone on his shirt. Remus felt silly standing next to him, wearing his nicest pair of jeans and a green cardigan. He probably should have put more effort into his appearance for something like this.

           “I’ll definitely come when I can,” Remus promised, tugging on one of his curls nervously.

           “Hey, dance with me,” Sirius said, grabbing Remus by the arm and leading him into the activities hall where the dance was taking place.

           “W-wait, I didn’t give them my ticket!” Remus said in a panic as Sirius led him past the ticket booth. The person at the table merely gave Sirius a nod as they walked inside.

           “Don’t mind that,” Sirius said, sliding his hand down Remus’ arm to clasp his hand instead. “I’ll make sure they get it.”

           “Sirius!” Remus said, his face bright red. “I – I’m not much of a dancer.”

           “Don’t worry,” Sirius told him, pulling Remus in close and wrapping his arms around his waist. “It’s a slow one.”

           Remus had no choice but to put his arms around Sirius’ neck and get close to him. It was so overwhelming that Remus was scared he might die. Their eyes kept meeting and Remus couldn’t handle that much eye contact. So instead, he buried his face against Sirius’ neck and pretended he was fine. It may have been a bit intimate, but it was better than looking up at those intoxicating grey eyes. At least like this Remus felt like he could still form coherent thoughts.

           “This feels more like we’re hugging than dancing,” Sirius teased as they swayed together to the music. “Why won’t you look at me?”

           “Can’t.” Remus mumbled, squeezing Sirius tighter.

           “Why not?”

           “I’m worried.”

           “About?”

           “Doing something stupid,” Remus answered, hoping against hope that Sirius wouldn’t question him further. Sirius chuckled and pressed his nose against Remus’ hair. It felt nice, being held by Sirius in such a way. Remus wouldn’t mind staying there for a while longer. He felt his eyes slip shut of their own volition.

           “What if I do something stupid?”

           “Hmm?” Remus hummed, nuzzling his face against Sirius’ throat. “I won’t mind.”

           “Don’t hate me, okay?”

           “Why would I –“

           Sirius placed his finger under Remus’ chin and tilted his face up. Remus then lost any and all train of thought as Sirius pressed their lips together, his mind going fuzzy like it was full off cotton. It was gentle and undemanding, a simple press of lips against lips, and a moment later it was done. Sirius pulled back and let his thumb tenderly caress Remus’ cheek.

           “I’m sorry.”

           “What for?” Remus asked, his stomach dropping. He wondered if Sirius already regretted it. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle that. “D-did I do it wrong?”

           Sirius chuckled. “Of course not. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. I just really have wanted to do that since I met you.”

           “Why?”

           Sirius shrugged. “You’re kind of adorable.”

           Remus scowled at him. “No, I’m not.”

           Sirius laughed and shook his head. “Even when you’re angry you’re cute as fuck. Your nose gets all scrunched up. I really like that.”

           “W-we don’t even really know each other that well.” Remus reasoned, taking a step back to put some distance between himself and Sirius. “We’ve only met once. This is ridiculous. You’re being ridiculous.”

           “Sometimes you just know, right?”

           Remus felt his jaw drop. “Regulus – “

           “Will get over it. Don’t use him as an excuse,” Sirius said, frowning slightly. He looked kind of upset and Remus felt bad for having brought it up. Sirius ran his fingers through his hair and then exhaled loudly. “He doesn’t hate me as much as he pretends to.”

           The song had changed to a pop song Remus vaguely recognized, but Sirius and Remus remained slow dancing. It was kind of nice, like being in their own little world. “I don’t know what to say. I’m not even sure what you’re asking me.”

           “How about a date?”

           “Okay,” Remus said, tucking his head back under Sirius’ chin. He liked being close to Sirius, it was somehow both exhilarating and extremely comforting at the same time. “When?”

           “How about now? Spend the rest of the dance with me.”

           Remus smiled against Sirius’ neck and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his jaw. “I think I can handle that.”

                                                                       ***

           It was well past midnight and Sirius was walking Remus back to his dormitory. Their hands were laced together, swinging between them as they walked. They’d spent the rest of the dance talking and dancing, occasionally kissing. Just thinking about it made Remus’ toes curl in his shoes. He’d had his first date with a boy. A boy that he had kissed. There was going to be more dates and more kissing. His stomach was twisted into knots just thinking about it.

           “Remus?” Sirius said, stopping just outside Remus’ building.

           “Yeah?”

           “I kind of don’t want to say good night to you,” Sirius confessed, giving Remus’ hand a small squeeze.

           Remus felt his face go bright red, heating up in complete embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry, I’m not ready for – “

           “Oh god no!” Sirius said quickly, waving his free hand around to dispel Remus’ thoughts. “I didn’t mean that. I meant that I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

           “Oh,” Remus said, thinking it over. He found that he felt the same way. Spending time with Sirius was easy, effortless, and even though Remus felt nervous around him, he didn’t feel like that was a bad thing. “I have an idea.”

           They stopped by Remus’ dorm so that Remus could quickly fill a thermos with hot chocolate and grab one of his spare blankets. He then led Sirius up to the rooftop, where people had put some sofas. It was a popular spot for people to come up and smoke or drink as long as they didn’t get caught.

           They sat side by side on one of the sofas and Remus put the blanket around them to share. They passed the thermos back and forth as they continued to talk. The more Remus watched Sirius, the more differences he could spot between Sirius and Regulus. It had taken Remus a long time to get Regulus to open up to him and agree to be his friend. Sirius was so open and friendly in contrast, things seemed to go so smoothly with him. Regulus was dry and sarcastic, while Sirius was more genuinely funny, making Remus snort more than a few times.

           Before Remus knew it, the sun was peeking over the tops of the trees. Sirius stood up and stretched, raising his arms high over his head. He then turned and held out a hand to Remus. “One more dance?” he requested with a small smile. “While the sun comes up?”

           “We don’t have any music,” Remus informed him, but stood up all the same.

           Sirius slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He then grabbed his airpods out of the case and put one in each of their ears. Remus waited patiently as Sirius scrolled through his phone, looking for the right song. Like Real People Do by Hozier began to play in Remus’ left ear and Remus found himself falling back into Sirius’ arms. The slow and soft melody felt perfect to the quiet of the early morning.

           Eventually they stopped dancing, too wrapped up in kissing each other to remember to move their feet.

           There, in the chill of an early September morning, Remus discovered what it felt like to fall for Sirius Black.

[haosvteen]

Betcha | lee chan

a/n: i drew a little bit of inspiration for this from ‘betcha’ by baekhyun, so that explains the title!! this is one of my favorite things i’ve written in a long time :) i hope you like it!! <3

college!chan x female!reader

~ - fluff

word count: 2.8k

masterlist

A warm burst of air greets you as you swing open the door of the stone building, looking down at your watch to see how much time was left before your class started. Since there were five minutes until your professor would begin rambling on about motifs in classic literature, you decided to walk down the hall a bit to grab a drink from the vending machine. Your shoes squeaked on the glossy tile floor due to the freshly melting snow you obtained on your walk from your apartment, causing a few students leaning against the walls waiting for their classes to look up at you. Ignoring their looks, you approach the vending machine and swipe your card. Prepared to make a selection, you hear loud laughter coming down the hall on your right. 

Turning your head, you’re met with the image of a group of rambunctious boys joking down the hallway towards you. They were laughing and shouting so loudly that everyone in the building probably heard them. In the center of it all was Lee Chan. Gosh, the way all of his friends were doting over him and hanging onto his every word was enough to make you scoff and shift your focus back onto what drink you’d be choosing from the vending machine. 

You heard several girls whispering to each other saying things like “What I’d do for Lee Chan to just look at me” and “One time he held the door for me at the library, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since”. Hearing them talk like that made you physically ill. He’s just a person, a human being...and he isn’t that special anyway. You’ll admit that he’s attractive, you’d be lying if you said anything other than that. He also is quite intelligent, always earning A’s on his essays in the class you share.  But his personality is just...yuck. The way he never pays attention in class, constantly on his phone texting whatever girl he is baiting that week with no reprimand from the professor. The constant offers from all girls on campus to perform every task and errand for him. The general lack of care for anyone, but himself...he’s not really your favorite individual on campus to say the least. 

Not to mention the way he always tries to one-up you in class. You’ll proudly own up to the fact that you’re a good student, amazing even. You pay attention, never miss a class, and raise your hand almost always to answer any question the professor throws your way. But every time, Chan just has to go and say the exact same answer as you, just in a better way. Of course, causing him to receive all the praise from your professor and earning an adoring gaze from the girls in the class. There are no words to describe how much this infuriates you. Especially the cocky smirk he throws your way after the professor says, “Great answer, Chan, I couldn’t have said it better myself!”. 

As the frustration due to your thoughts grew, you were ripped away as someone leaned up against the vending machine, mere inches from where you were standing. Speak of the devil. 

“Hey, Y/N, ready for class today?” Chan asks you, with that same cocky smirk on his face that you’ve, unfortunately, grown so used to seeing. As if the sight of his lips raising is a trigger for you, a fire starts deep within you, annoyance, and frustration growing every second you’re in his presence. Rolling your eyes, you ignore him and raise your hand to press the button on the machine and finally make your selection. Before you had the chance for your finger to collide with the plastic, Chan beat you to it and pressed the glowing white button for mint tea.

Speechless, you simply scoffed and looked at him with wide eyes, not believing he just did that. Who does that?! “Take it easy, babe. Don’t act so offended, you know you were going to get mint tea anyway. You get it almost every day before class,” Chan says casually, leaning his head back against the machine, chewing the gum in his mouth with a smile.

As much as you hate to admit it to yourself, he was right. You were going to get the mint tea, it’s your favorite...and it’s a little weird that he knew that. Just to spite him, you respond, “Actually, I was going to get strawberry milk today, but I guess I’ll have to settle for this instead since you took it upon yourself to decide for me”. The annoyance in your voice was evident, but if Chan noticed, he didn’t let it show on his face. He leans down and grabs the bottle of tea out of the machine, not breaking eye contact with you the whole time. The tension could be cut with a knife and you knew his group of friends standing several feet away and the group of girls gawking at you both could feel it as well.

Standing up, he extends the bottle towards you saying, “Then let me make it up to you then” with yet another cocky smirk, paired his eyes trailing your body up and down. Your face twists into a look that says ‘That was the cringiest thing I’ve ever heard, also I am incredibly grossed out’. 

“Uh, no thanks,” you say, grabbing the mint tea from his hand and walking down the hallway, hearing his friends teasing him by saying, “Oooo” and no doubt giving him joking punches on the shoulder. 

Your mind was a scrambled mess from the interaction you just had. Who does he think he is? Does he think every girl on this campus is begging for his attention?! In all honesty, you wish he would just ignore you so you wouldn’t have to deal with his antics and casual flirtation. It infuriates you to no end and quite honestly keeps you up at night thinking about how he believes he runs this campus. 

Making your way into the classroom, you quickly slide into your unassigned-assigned seat in the front row, trying to pull out your notebook and pen all while attempting to organize your thoughts and irritation about whatever that conversation was you just had. You let out a large sigh as you flip to the next open page in your notebook and the professor begins class, giving you a scolding look for the huff of air you let out to express your exasperation. As you begin to jot down some general notes about what the prof is saying, you notice he who must not be named enters the classroom.

 “Oh, Chan! I’m glad you could make it,” your professor cheerily says as Chan saunters in.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Chan responds, flashing a bright smile. This causes yet another heavy breath to leave you as you shake your head at your professor’s naivety and how simple it is for him to be charmed. You realize Chan is making his way over to pass you in order to find his own seat. Looking down at your notebook to continue taking writing and ignoring the close proximity of your least favorite person, you notice something is slid onto your desk as he walks by.

Strawberry milk.

You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your face. You quickly grab it, tossing it into your backpack, hoping no one saw. Confusion and shock flood your head as you simply stare at the board in front of you. What was his goal with that? Probably another one of his flirtation tactics, no doubt. Did that actually work on other girls?! The bar is so low, apparently. You turn around to hopefully catch Chan’s gaze and give him a confused and weirded out expression, but when you turn around he’s simply leaned back in his chair, listening to the professor, seemingly bored out of his mind. You know he knows you’re looking at him and is just refusing to meet your eyes. Narrowing your eyes at him, you whip your head back around to focus on the lecture. There is no way you were going to let Lee Chan of all people distract you.

As the class was drawing to a close, your professor announced, “I’m trying something new for the final this semester. Instead of taking an exam, as students have done in the past, I’m going to be placing you into groups to complete a presentation”. He was met with groans from students like you who would just prefer to study on their own and get it over with by taking a test, but there were also silent celebrations from students who think that a group project means less work for them. However, only one thought was racing through your mind:

Do not put me with Lee Chan.

“I will go ahead and read off who your partners are, then you will be dismissed. The directions for this assignment will be posted on our class website later tonight and we’ll discuss it more next time we meet. Well, I won’t keep you waiting”, he explains and begins to read off the names. It’s embarrassing to admit but you were literally hiding your hands in your sleeves and crossing your fingers that you wouldn’t be paired with Chan. It might seem dramatic and a drastic measure to take. He can’t be that bad, right? Wrong. You’d heard rumors about his poor work ethic in group projects. That combined with his overall playboy aura is not a good match for you. 

“Lee Chan and Y/N Y/L/N,” your professor says. It’s like your mind is frozen. Of course, this would happen to you. Just your luck. You didn’t even pay attention to the final words your professor had to say before wrapping up class because you were dreading having to do an entire project all by yourself.

As you closed your notebook and began to pack away your things, you felt someone standing near you. With a sigh, you look up knowing exactly who it is.

There he was, standing with his hands in his jean pockets and that cocky smirk making yet another appearance. Rolling your eyes, you sling your backpack over your shoulder and stand up, grabbing your phone.

“What’s your number?” you bluntly ask, not so much as a question and more of a demand.

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Chan says with a laugh, grabbing your phone to enter his number in. His fingertips grazed your hand as he gently took it from your grasp. You’d never admit that it made your heart skip a beat or two, though.

He finishes typing in his number and as he is handing your phone back, he suggests, “Let’s get lunch or something to talk about the project”. You started walking away from him halfway through his sentence, causing him to trail off at the end. 

“No,” you call out as you walk out of the classroom. “I’ll text you.”

Not going to lie, you kind of felt like a badass. Chan deserved a taste of his own medicine and you’re just the lucky person who gets to give it to him. 

You make your way to a local coffee shop a little way down the road, mentally preparing to deal with customers and make beverages until the late hours of the night. Entering the backroom to set your things down and tie your apron on, making your way out to behind the counter to begin your workday.

The hours dragged on and on, filled with heating up pastries and making cappuccinos until it was 10:30pm and there were only thirty minutes left until close. There were a few people in the shop, working on their laptops, or having a chat with a friend. It was around this time of night, you started to clean up behind the counter and prepare everything for those who open the store the next morning.

You bent down to grab a square bucket from under the counter and a damp rag, heading over to clear off several tables from customers who had recently left. As you’re placing some plates into the bucket, you hear the doorbell jingle, signaling that someone has entered.

“One moment, I’ll be with you in-” you begin, but look up to see Chan. You suck in a sharp breath of air as he walks toward you with that damn smirk on his face. You continue to gather the dishes from the table, hoping that maybe he would just go wait by the register. Wishful thinking on your part as he comes over puts a hand on the table, leaning on it and tilting his head to get a better look at you.

“What do you want, Chan?” you monotonously say, not drifting your attention from clearing the table.

“Well, I tried texting you, but you didn’t respond,” he explains.

“Uh, yeah because I’m working,” you respond matter-of-factly. You finish wiping down the table and lift up the bucket to go over to the next table. Chan takes the bucket from your hands and you look at him with the most confused expression, but he just motions for you to go on to the next table. You shake your head in more confusion, but accept it and go on with him trailing behind you, hauling the heavy bucket of dishes.

“Yeah, that’s why I came here,” he continues the conversation as he sets the bucket down on the next table. You stop cleaning and look at him with yet another confused expression. How does he even know you work here? He must have been able to tell what you were thinking by the look on your face because he says, “I like coming here and I see you here, so”. 

No matter how weirded out or confused you were, you carried on, “Why did you even need to talk to me in the first place?”

“Oh, I already have our presentation outlined and in a PowerPoint. We just have to do some research and put it all together,” he casually says. You don’t know who said that he has a poor work ethic in group projects, but apparently, they were wrong. 

“Thanks,” you respond simply and head back behind the counter, with Chan following you yet again. 

“We’re meeting on Thursday at 4:00 to finish it,” he says as he lifts the glass cake stand and grabs a blueberry muffin, starting to dig in. 

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Thursday doesn’t work for me. I also hope you’re planning on playing for that”.

“Oh, no, I figured it was on the house,” he sarcastically teases. You give him a stern gaze and he continues, “Of course I’m going to pay for it, I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything”. You don’t know why, but that made you kind of...blush. And you hoped he didn’t see.

“Anyway, why can’t you do Thursday?” he casually says, still picking chunks off of the muffin and eating them.

“I have plans, Chan. News flash: the world doesn’t revolve around you,” you retort as you begin to clean the coffee machines.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s your world, I’m just living in it,” he says as if it didn’t mean anything. What did it mean? It’s not like people just say that casually. At least you’ve never heard people say that about people casually. You barely had any time to think more about it when you heard him say a little quieter, “Do you have a date or something on Thursday?”

Your heart began to race...and what for?? Was he...jealous? Why would he be asking if you had a date? Why would he care? “No, I don’t have a date,” you respond. At that, you see Chan’s head perk up.

“Okay, well how about Wednesday, then? I could do like...5:00?” he says.

“Yeah, that works,” you reply, looking towards him and giving him a small smile. A facial expression you never thought you’d be giving Lee Chan. There was just something about the way his eyes lit up...and that damn smirk…

“Alright, then,” he says while reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bill, placing it on the counter to pay for the muffin he took. Making his way to the front of the shop to exit, he turned around to say, “It’s a date”. 

And there you are, left a blushing mess behind the counter. Waiting for Wednesday at 5:00.

[quickspinner]

Motorcycle Fairy Part 2

Part 1 | Part 3

I was planning on just a two part story, but it’s gonna be three. Motorcycle Fairy isn’t on AO3 yet, I’ll post it as a chapter of I’ll Never Not Know You when all the parts are complete. 

It was a really nice day, Luka reflected as he sat on the bench outside of the shop, playing his guitar. The remains of his lunch sat beside him. He let his eyes fall closed, lost in the music, enjoying the breeze that ruffled his hair. 

“Luka!”

Luka jumped slightly, the song cutting off inelegantly. He looked up and saw Marinette standing there with her hands over her mouth and an expression of horror. “I’m so sorry,” she gasped. “I just—we were listening and it was so pretty, and then I saw your face and I was surprised—I didn’t mean to interrupt you!”

“Marinette!” Luka scrambled to his feet and shrugged out of the strap of his guitar. “Hey, how’ve you been? Oh, uh, don’t worry about it, I’m just on my break and I was just messing around, you really didn’t interrupt anything.”

She relaxed a little, her shoulders coming down from her ears and her hands coming down from her mouth, and his attention was much too focused on that mouth when she spoke again. “It sounded great, though, what you were playing.”

“Well...thanks,” he grinned, moving his gaze quickly back up to her eyes. “Glad to see you back. I saw the helmet on your Instagram, by the way, it looked sick.”

“I’m surprised you remember me,” Marinette hunched her shoulders slightly again. She had on shorts today, pink with a white flowy top, and her hair done in pigtails, like in the picture she’d shown him, only longer. 

“Of course, your art was really fantastic,” Luka said, not even really knowing what he was saying. “I really wanted to see the finished picture so I’ve been following your Instagram, and you had a lot of cool stuff on there, so...yeah, I remembered.” God, just kill him. 

“Ah, yes, my little Marinetta is so talented,” said the older woman standing beside her, putting her hands on Marinette’s shoulders and squeezing. “The new helmet was a lovely surprise.” 

Marinette beamed up at her. “Luka, this is my grandmother Gina Dupain. Grandma, this is Luka, he’s the one who helped me out last time.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mme Dupain,” Luka offered his hand.

“Call me Gina,” the grey haired woman smiled, shaking it. “Well, we won’t disturb your break, my dear, we just came to do a little shopping. I am taking my little Marinetta to Le Mans with me.” Gina put her arm around Marinette’s shoulders and smiled at her affectionately. “We need to get her some equipment so that my fairy will be safe and comfortable for the ride.”

“I’m actually just about due back, so let me clean up here and I’ll meet you inside.” Luka smiled at Marinette, trying to pretend his heart wasn’t trying its best to escape his chest. “We’ll get you all set.” 

The ladies went inside and Luka scrambled to clean up the rest of his lunch quickly. He zipped up his guitar, reminding himself to breathe. He was at work and there was no way he was going to let the butterflies in his stomach keep him from doing his job. He rubbed his hands on his jeans, blowing out a slightly frustrated breath. Sure she was cute and sweet and talented and he’d maybe been nursing a small (maybe not so small anymore) crush since she came in the first time and maybe he’d daydreamed once or twice about what he’d do or say if she ever came in again, but this was his job and this was real life and Michel trusted him to not screw this up, so he was going to go in there and at least pretend that he had himself together. 

She was the same girl who had knocked over his displays and chattered nervously the last time she was here. Before he knew that in addition to being cute and sweet, she was a video game champion, a creative genius who rubbed elbows with rock stars, and a savvy marketer for her fashion business. On top of that she still made time to decorate cookies with her dad, promote her friends’ accomplishments, and plant trees for community projects.

Not that he’d been stalking her social media or anything. He just...followed her. And noticed when she put up new things. She was just so interesting and her projects were amazing...

Luka shook his head at himself and picked up his guitar. Okay. I can get through this without sounding like a stalker or a perv.

Michel was already talking to Gina when Luka made it inside. “—and my Marinetta says your boy was so kind to help her last time,” Gina was saying. “And that you had a bigger stock of materials for women than the other shops she visited.”

“Yes ma’am,” Michel nodded with grave politeness. “It’s certainly our goal to make sure we have everything our customers need—all our customers.”

“I will have to let my club know about this place,” Gina remarked. 

“And with those words, your grandma just won Michel’s heart forever,” Luka leaned over Marinette’s shoulder to murmur. She giggled, and he grinned. “I’ll be right back, just let me drop my guitar in the back.” 

“Take your time,” she said, reaching up to pat his shoulder. “We’re not in a hurry.” 

Luka blushed all the way to the back, and felt like a fool for it. Thankfully Jean was nowhere in sight. Luka suspected Michel had sent him on break as soon as the women walked in. He stashed his guitar and practically jogged back to the front of the store. 

“Okay, I’m all yours,” he said, hopefully not too breathlessly, and wanted to kick himself. “What can I help you find?” he tried instead.

“Oh, um…” Marinette glanced at Gina, but she was still talking to Michel. “Um, well I have a helmet, but Grandma said I needed riding boots? And glasses. And a jacket with padding?”

“Okay, we can do that,” Luka smiled. “Boots are probably easiest, we only have a few kinds for women, so there’s not as much to pick from. We have about eight thousand different kinds of glasses,” he rolled his eyes but grinned back at her when she giggled. “Should we wait for Gina, or…”

Marinette shook her head. “It’s fine, she’ll come find us. She’s very chatty, so she might be a while.” 

“Okay, then, right this way,” he touched her arm with the tips of his fingers and indicated the direction with his other hand. “So, Le Mans, huh?”

“Yes, Grandma’s club is racing and she said she has to—how did she put it—” Marinette put her nose in the air and said in an affected Italian accent, “Nonna Gina will teach these young idiots why they should respect their elders!” 

Luka laughed a little harder than he should have as he gestured toward the shelf with their display models. “So your choices are a little limited, like I said, but you can go with the ankle boot or the taller ones, that’ll probably come up to about—” He looked down at her legs and then paused and ripped his gaze away. “Um, a little below the knee? Maybe a little higher on you because you’re—”

“Short?” Marinette finished with a giggle. 

“Yeah,” Luka grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s a fact,” Marinette shrugged. “I’ve accepted it. I’m taller than my mom, at least, but on the height front it looks like the Cheng blood won out over the Dupain.” She grinned.

“They do look a bit of an odd couple,” Luka chuckled. “Adorable though. I saw them on your Insta too. It looked like there was a lot of love there.”

Marinette’s grin widened. “There really is. So do you have a recommendation?”

“I like the taller boots when I ride,” Luka shrugged, “More protection is always good, plus you’re less likely to accidentally burn yourself on the exhaust.” 

“Ooh, good point,” Marinete said, wincing in a way that made Luka think she had experience with that hazard. 

“Oh, we do have one mid-calf model, that’s new,” Luka pointed to it. “Some women prefer to wear the men’s boots, so we have more options in those, but to be honest I don’t think they’re going to come small enough for you.” 

They discussed it a little further, and then Marinette picked out a couple of options. She took a pair of socks—knee socks, as it turned out—out of her purse and Luka made the mistake of watching her pull them on and up her leg. Marinette flashed him a smile in the middle of his internal meltdown that didn’t help at all. 

Even worse, the stiff new leather gave her some trouble and Luka had to get down on one knee to help her get the boots on, trying desperately not to touch her any more than necessary. “Thanks,” she sighed when her foot was finally in the first one. He helped her get the second option on her other foot, and held her hand to steady her as she walked back and forth with them, a little wobbly as one had a thicker heel than the other. She picked one and then he had to help her get the wrong one off (professional, he promised Michel he’d be professional) and put on the mate of the one she’d picked. Marinette walked carefully back and forth in them and Luka folded his arms, bringing one hand up over his mouth and praying he wasn’t too obvious. 

“What do you think?” Marinette asked, turning to look at the boot in the mirror. It was nearly knee-high on her as he predicted, a black harness boot with pink hardware all the way up one side for lacing and a rugged rather than decorative sole and heel. It had enough height in the heel for her to ride comfortably, but not enough to cause her any trouble.  

I think you’re going to be so hot all geared up, Luka groaned in his head. “I think you’ll need to wear them for a bit and break them in, but other than that—are they comfortable? Because they look great on you.” That wasn’t too much, right? Still professional.  

“They feel pretty good,” she said thoughtfully. “The size feels right. They’re a little stiff, but they don’t rub anywhere weird.”

Luka was saved from having to reply to that by Gina descending on them. She made Marinette walk in them again, cooed over her “fairy” until Marinette was red-faced and Luka was trying not to laugh at her. “You can keep them on while we find the rest of your gear if you want,” Luka suggested. “That way you can walk around in them a bit, make sure they’re still comfortable.” Marinette gave him an excited smile and did a little eager bounce and Luka maybe died just a little bit. 

It actually didn’t take too long for Marinette to pick a pair of glasses; she went straight for a chrome and pink pair with rhinestones along the top and mirrored lenses, and she looked so adorable with them and so pleased with herself that Luka couldn’t help his grin. While Gina teased her about her pink addiction, Luka slipped away into the racks and came back with a mesh padded jacket that had pink panels with reflective piping in the front and back and down the arms. Marinette squealed and nearly hugged him as Gina laughed. Marinette put on the jacket and zipped it up. Gina checked the padding placement with the air of experience, and asked Luka for the next size down. He brought it and this time Gina nodded in satisfaction.

Nearly vibrating with excitement, Marinette put on her new glasses and checked herself out in the mirror. “How do I look?” she giggled, turning toward him. With her pink shorts and pigtails she looked more like a poster model than an actual biker, but even so— 

“You look amazing,” he told her, maybe more honestly than he should have. “Would you mind if I took your picture for our social media page?” He looked at Gina. “I’m sure Michel told you we’re looking to expand our female clientele.” 

“It is Marinetta’s decision,” Gina said with an indifferent shrug, “I have no objections if she does not.” 

With Marinette’s permission, he took her picture and then a picture of her and Gina together. 

“You’re adorable,” he chuckled absently as he posted the pictures. 

“Adorable?” Marinette repeated, deflating slightly, and Luka flushed. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. So much for professional, although...that didn’t seem to be what was bothering her. As cute as she was she probably got that all the time, he realized, glancing at her pouting face. Adorable probably wasn’t what a lady wanted to hear when she was decked out in motorcycle gear for the first time. 

Luka glanced at her and then at Gina, who had gotten distracted again. Then he leaned over slightly to look pointedly at Marinette’s new boots, hugging the curve of her calf. He met Marinette’s eyes.

“I’m working,” he told her, lowering his voice a little, “So I’m just going to say the gear suits you. But...change the hair and get some skinny jeans and I guarantee everybody else will use a different word.” He grinned at her and went back to his phone and Marinette giggled, blushing. 

“You can go ahead and tag me,” Marinette said, tipping her glasses up and peeking over—or rather around—his shoulder. “Grandma too.” She dictated Gina’s handle and then pulled out her own phone. “That should help get people from Grandma’s club to check it out. Will you take a selfie with me for mine?” 

Luka was more than willing to put his face next to hers and smile as she flashed her peace sign at the camera. 

“All right, let’s check you out—get you checked out,” Luka corrected quickly, shaking his head. “Unless there was anything else you needed?”  

“Um, I don’t think so,” Marinette said, sounding both thoughtful and maybe a little disappointed. Or maybe that was just him. 

“Okay, well follow me and I’ll get everything rung up,” Luka said, tipping his head toward the counter. “You want me to package it up or do you want to wear it out?”

“I can do that?” Marinette asked, eyes wide.

Luka shrugged and smiled. “It’s all yours once it’s paid for, so why not?” 

Marinette leaned her elbows on the counter, admiring her purchases. 

“So,” Luka said, glancing at her as he started going through the pile. “I gotta ask, what’s it like working for Jagged Stone?”

Marinette’s head shot up and a blush bloomed on her face. “How did you—oh, right, I gave you my—so you saw the—um, yeah.” She laughed awkwardly, reaching up to fidget with one pigtail. “It’s, um...it’s an experience?”

“High maintenance?” Luka grinned.

“So high maintenance,” Marinette groaned. “Oh, it’s embarrassing to admit it, but my first try bombed completely. It’s a long story but I basically got assigned to be his gopher for the day and he was bound and determined that he wanted those glasses and nothing I could find was good enough and so finally I was like forget it, he’s impossible I’m just going to make them myself and...and…” She spread her hands. 

“And now you’re friends with a rock star,” Luka laughed. “That’s awesome, Marinette.” He shook his head. “You must be incredibly patient as well as talented.”

“Oh...I…” She looked down at the counter, tracing a line of the grain with her finger. “I’m just...I like people. I like making people happy. I guess I’m a people pleaser.” 

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Luka commented as Gina came up to the counter. 

“Well, sometimes—“ Marinette cut off and bit her lip and looked at the total on Luka’s screen. “Grandma, are you sure—” 

“Hush, Marinetta,” was all Gina said, and Marinette just sighed with a fond smile. 

“Thank you, Grandma.” 

Luka gave Gina her receipt, and she immediately went back to whatever debate she’d been having with Michel. Luka looked at Marinette. “Well, you want to wear it?” 

Marinette nodded eagerly and Luka chuckled, pulling out his pocket knife. He cut the tags off of the jacket and Marinette slipped it back on and zipped it up. Then she pressed her lips together for a moment before reaching up to pull her pigtails out. She retied her hair in a low ponytail over one shoulder instead as Luka cut the tags off her glasses and peeled away the protective plastic. “Better?” she asked. She took the glasses Luka handed her and slid them on. 

“Well—” Luka glanced over at Gina and Michel, and leaned over, settling his elbows on the counter and speaking low. “I’m still working, but...ask any guy on the street and I think you’re going to get the answer you’re looking for.” He winked at her and Marinette grinned, looking pleased as she tilted the glasses up onto her head. 

“So I’m guessing you’re not racing,” Luka said, straightening up and sweeping the tags into the trash. He came around the counter and crouched next to her to cut the tags off of the boots she was still wearing. 

“No, definitely not,” Marinette laughed. “I’m just going to cheer Grandma on. And, you know, get out in the fresh air, have some fun. The races are open to the public,” Marinette added brightly as Luka straightened up and folded his knife. “It’s a big fundraiser and recruitment event for them actually, so it’s kind of a big party. I’m sure there will be plenty for me to do. Have you ever been there? To the track I mean?”

“The Bugatti Circuit? Yeah, a couple times for different things,” Luka replied, tucking the knife back in his pocket and leaning one elbow on the counter.  “It’s a cool place, I’ve stayed at the campground nearby a few times. Great place to see some really cool bikes and cars, if you’re into that kind of thing. Most people who come to stay there are there for the tracks so they all have crazy machines.”

“Oh, that’s good to know,” Marinette exclaimed. “I don’t know much about cars but I bet I could get some amazing inspiration there.” She pouted a little. “I kind of wish my friends were going,” she whispered, glancing back to where Gina and Michel were chatting. “Grandma will be in the races and I’ll be stuck on my own. It’d be nice to be there with someone, especially someone who knew their way around.” Her eyes widened slightly and she blushed as she added in a rush, “I’m good at making friends though, I’ll find someone to hang out with.”

“No doubt,” Luka said, glancing over at Gina with a slight frown. He was sure Marinette wouldn’t lack for company and the idea of her being on her own made his big brother bone itch. So he told himself, anyway. “Just be safe, okay? You never know who’s going to show up at an event like that. People get a little bit of alcohol in them and they start acting stupid.” 

“I’m a good judge of character,” Marinette smiled. “I know how to stay out of trouble. Besides, I may be adorable,” she rolled her eyes. “But I’m not helpless.” 

You’re a snack and guys are going to be lining up like there’s only one vending machine, Luka thought grimly, but he kept his pleasant expression. “Well, is there anything else I can do for you, Marinette? It looks like you’re all set.” He put one hand on the boot box that now carried her street shoes and slid it closer to her.

“Oh,” Marinette blinked, like she’d forgotten why she was there. “Oh, no, I think that’s everything. I, um...thanks, Luka.” She picked up the box slowly, and her blue eyes were soft when she looked up at him. “Really, thank you. I was super nervous about coming to a place like this last time and you really made it easy, and today too, and I just...I’m grateful.”

Luka could feel his cheeks reddening. “I didn’t do anything special,” he shrugged, “A customer’s a customer, right? That’s Michel’s policy.” She made an affirmative noise and looked down and Luka knew he couldn’t just leave it at that. “But...I’m really glad I met you, Marinette. You’re a cool person. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime, just...around or whatever.” 

His eyes skimmed over Marinette’s head as he resisted the urge to ruffle his hair, and found Gina watching him with slightly narrowed eyes. Luka didn’t react outwardly; he wasn’t doing anything wrong and he didn’t care if she knew he thought Marinette was cute. Really, he’d managed to get out of this encounter so far without embarrassing himself too badly or letting Michel down too much, so he was counting it a win. He forced himself to look back at Marinette though and smile.

“Maybe I will see you around sometime,” Marinette said, suddenly not quite meeting his eyes either, and Luka’s pulse spiked. “Like you said, you never know who might show up at an event, right? Who knows, maybe I’ll be going to more events now that I’m all geared up for it.” She grinned and put her glasses back on. They did nothing to hide her suddenly flaming blush. “Well...bye Luka. Thanks again!” 

She nearly tripped in her sudden hurry to get out of the shop. Laughing, Gina caught her arm and said something quietly to her before glancing back at Luka and sending one more smile and a “Ciao, dear!” at Michel.

“What did I tell you?” Michel said with satisfaction. “Good customer service is never wasted.”

“Yeah,” Luka said with a smiling sigh. “You told me.” Man, what he wouldn’t give to be in Le Mans next weekend. 

It’d be nice to be there with someone, especially someone who knew their way around.

No...no, he couldn’t. That was crazy. No way she’d meant it the way he suddenly wanted to hear it. 

Like you said, you never know who might show up at an event, right?

Luka shook his head and went back to work. No. No way. He wasn’t that lucky. He’d really look like a stalker if he showed up in Le Mans, two hours away, on a couple of vague hints that he was probably reading too much into.

The next time he had a quiet moment, Luka pulled up Marinette’s Instagram. There was the selfie of the two of them together. The caption read, Gearing up for the trip to Le Mans next weekend! Had a great experience at Michel’s Motor Gear. The owner Michel is awesome and Luka took great care of me! Super patient, very professional, and soooo nice! AND he plays awesome guitar! #great shop #great service #great guy 

Luka put his head down in his arms on the counter and whined. He was doomed. Worse, he wasn’t going to be able wipe the dumb grin off his face for hours.

He was still grinning stupidly at the picture when Michel walked by. 

“Boss,” Luka said absently, not looking up from his phone. “Can I have Saturday off?”

Michel saw the picture in his hand and frowned. “I don’t think I approve of dating customers.”

“Fair,” Luka agreed, the dopey grin not budging a millimeter. “I quit.”

Michel stood stunned for a moment and then sighed. “Of course. I forgot for a moment you’re Anarka’s boy.” He chewed his mustache for a moment. “Ah, you don’t have to quit. I was watching, I know you’ve acted like a pro. As long as you ask her out on your own time, got it?”

“Yeah. So, Saturday? I’m thinking about a day trip to Le Mans.”

Michel sighed. “Fine, take the weekend. Get it out of your system before Monday.”

Luka snorted softly. “No promises.”

[katsukikitten]

hey! for valentines could you maybe update a pink rose or princess?? only if you want to🖤 you’re an amazing writer btw!

ANON MY DEAR! This is not part of the special but I hope you enjoy anyway. I'm so glad you're enjoying my work! 😊😊 also these nails but black.

"Madame would you like tea or a drink?" A server asks as you push down the hall.

"Not. Now." You bite out trying so hard to keep your temper as the agitating blonde follows behind you in cocky strides.

The door to the bar swings open as you change the air unintentionally.

No longer is laughter ringing out at the tables beside you, now men shrink back with your employed escorts beneath their arms. As if they could ever fight you off. Normally you would have to keep your eyes from rolling but they are two focused on shades of pink and red.

Just as a bull reacts to red you charge but instead of reverting to old habits you step with elegant grace that was drilled into you. You thought your temper had been controlled but it is evident as you stalk blindly towards the couple that you are far from controlling it.

"Hello." You sing venom, fake smile plastered on your face as you loom over the small table.

"Ah Madame, may I get you anything?" Mina asks, reading your dark expression fairly quickly as Kirishima fights from shrinking away.

"No my darling. I'm just wondering why this trash is lingering out here instead of having his boss run his errands for him." A polite smile that never reaches your eyes. Ruby eyes slink away from your form to spy your boss, drink in hand as he watches from afar more than amused.

"We were just talking Madame. Mending somethings." Mina answers.

"I'm asking her to still be my wife." Kirishima pipes up, ruby eyes shining in the low light as you bite back your scoff, "But will you let her leave?"

"She is more than welcome to move back in with you. However Mina my dear you are well aware that his loan is not being paid back with his own funding. It would be wise to listen carefully for the lies that slip through sharp teeth." You wrap your hand around the nape of Kirishima's neck leaning closer to his ear, "She may leave with you whenever she wants but while you are in debt to me I will always take her right back."

A shudder visibly passes through him as you right yourself. Making your way back to your precious office. Bakugou looks on, not as amused before as he was hoping to see you lose your temper.

He knows you have one, he got a taste of it just a few moments ago. He hopes to get a glimpse of it again.

××××××××

"I heard a rumor." You purr sipping your whiskey as you stare over the rim of the glass. Staring down the built man who sits in one of your plush office chairs. You lean back in your own leather seat as he seems to think, trying so hard to figure out the best place to set his pawn.

Not realizing he *is* the pawn.

"What type of rumor?" He leaves his drink untouched on the old oak desk, confirming the validity of the gossip as it is customary to share a drink with someone you trust.

Someone you are always honest with.

At least customary in this backwards world.

Still you cannot help the smile that grows on your rouged lips as his own turn southward.

"I heard you're trying to 'save' Uraraka as if she is some damsel." You try hard to keep your voice even and your glass in tact as you continue, "She is free to leave whenever she wants. But since you want her so badly convince her to leave with you. In exchange I take 50% of your territory."

He stands, clearly insulted by your offer as he narrows green eyes onto you.

"No deal. If you want my land so badly you'll have to take it by force." He shouts scraping the chair agaisnt wood as he stands abruptly.

"Is that so?" You take another sip as he gives you his back, one of his first of many grave mistakes. He takes a final glance over his deep emerald suit with matching eyes to spy Uraraka-chan standing just behind you in a blush pink gown that you had picked out especially for this occasion. His quick temper surprised you, you had calculated a different reaction as he was normally level headed but maybe he is still over compensating for the former head's death despite that being a few years ago.

But one thing was for certain Izuku needed to be careful what he wished for.

You decide to take him up on that offer the following night bringing Uraraka in tow as you stand before a room filled with hundreds of men.

All stunned to silence in your skinny black jeans and flowing black blouse that burst through the doors with ease.

You were lucky to be blessed with both unbelievable strength both physically and mentally.

"Are you aware of how my quirk works Izuku?" You ask when he does not make a move. Cannot make a move since you brought his special dame here.

"Its common knowledge. You do not hide it well. Besides no one in my family has encountered you." He retorts wondering how the hell you knew about the mandatory emergency meeting he had called.

"Ah, that you know of." You smile over the large crowd of men armed to the teeth, "I have a large influence you know. I'll show you who is loyal to me. You'll be able to tell when I use my gift and when I do not."

"Please demonstrate your imminent failure." He gestures with his banded arm with a sly smile while yours turns devilish.

"Those who are loyal to me bow." You gesture with your own banded arm as fifty or so of the two hundred men sink to their feet. Deku let's his jade eyes roll over their faces as if committing them to memory.

As if after tonight it will matter.

"Not bad for no quirk right?"

Your smile fades as you turn serious, straightening your back and changing the air about you to your a semi natural state. A predator staring down prey, shoulders back and head held high as if royalty.

Well you were raised as royalty and you knew when to act as such. The air seems to crackle with tension.

"Those who are loyal to me bow." Your voice booms with authority as all of the men, including Izuku sink to their knees with sweating foreheads.

"I've always preferred my men on their knees." You sashay down the row past the frozen men, fingers dragging over broad shoulders as Izuku grits his teeth. You heels clack with each powerful step before you find yourself in front of your latest victim.

"Be careful who you dare." You hiss grabbing onto his banded forearm lifting it for all to see, "While serving me you'll learn two things fairly quickly. I always rise to the challenge and I always keep my word."

You drag your nails across his two bands breaking the symbol as quickly as you broke the loyalty of his men. Izuku cries out as your nails leave deep crimson in their wake. Dripping down his fingers as he watches his life's work crumble before him.

"Rise." And they respond, keeping their heads bowed as you speak, "As you've witnessed and by our underground laws you are now my family, under my care."

You tap your own double band with a bloodied claw.

"I do not like to rid people of their free will. I prefer loyalty to be genuine. However should you be a threat to my goal or my family I will have no qualms about flaying your mind until you're living the rest of your waking days in hell. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am." They ring out in unison as you release your hold on them.

"YOU WILL NEVER BE THE HEAD AS LONG AS I BREATHE!!!" One screams as soon as his muscles are his own, aiming his gun straight at you, finger hovering over the trigger.

"Then die." You shrug, barely giving the man a second look as his face distorts from full blown wrath to down trodden depression. He turns the gun on himself pulling the trigger to end his own life with genuine tears rolling down his cheeks. A hush rolls through the crowd as the men beside him are visibly shaken.

"Anyone else have a dying vow they wish to carry out?" When no one breaks the silence you carry on, "Good. Now as your new head you report everything to me. Inventory, sales, profits, projected sales, potential buyers old and new. Should any of you choose to disobey me know that I will find out. As I have eyes and ears everywhere and I will not be afraid to make an example out of you. Now get back to work."

The men scramble to gather the reports and return to their posts as you've just gained a sizable amount of turf in a matter of minutes. You press your sharp heel into Izuku's thigh twisting it slightly.

"As for you, you'll finally get your wish to stand by Uraraka as second to my right hand woman."

You wake with a sharp inhale painted in nothing but the moonlight as two other bodies share your bed. Emerald green slowly blink open before the glisten in the lowlight.

It is odd that you would have that dream tonight of all nights.

Especially when you agreed to bed both of them tonight.

You can hear your Father's stern in your head now as he repeats one of his many rules.

*"Never sleep with subordinates and if you do. Don't expect them to be loyal when you're done with them."*

You bite your lip, he was right about many things, would he be right now?

Had you made a mistake?

"Madame?" He whispers pulling you from the thought, calloused palm placed agaisnt your exposed thigh. "Do you need a drink?"

"Please." You confirm, his eyes flicker to the brown eyed doe who snores softly before they come back to you, "I won't wake her."

He nods softly before rising, pulling on dark boxers before shoving himself into a shirt. Ready to go to the empty bar below to make you some sort of cocktail. You watch his sculpted back shrink into the darkened hallway and for a brief moment you wish his hair a different color. That is before you dig black nails into your exposed thigh and you rise yourself. Tiptoeing to your chair on the other side of your expansive suite. You drape yourself in your black and heavily laced robe, hiding your family tattoos once more.

When Izuku comes back with your drink you're sure to check your skill work on his memory when he let's his fingers brush agaisnt yours as you grab the cool glass. Feeling out his mind, ruffling through his memories over the last few hours as he undressed you and pleasured you when his eyes fall upon your family crest swirling on both sides of your chest the ink melts together in inky black smudges.

A cat smile plays on your lips as you whisper thank you. Just as Izuku is about to crawl into be with Uraraka you stop him.

"Take her to your room?" You whisper, "She always sleeps soundly there."

He blushes as if caught but you know all along that he has loved her. Did your dream not remind you of why he is really here?

"You do not need my permission to lie with her Izuku. Only hers." You state simply picking up your overly loved romance novel as he scoops her gently. You motion him to you with two fingers, debating with each steady step that he is carrying her if you should just wipe yourself from those pleasurable hours in both of their minds.

You decide against it last minute, caressing Uraraka to insure that she too does not remember anything but swirling black where something else should be. When she does you smile at the two of them before whispering to the emerald eyed man.

"This will be our last time dear. Enjoy each other."

He stands stunned for a moment, wanting to argue but he cannot deny your crystal clear order. He makes his way with his love to his cozy little room just three doors down.

You return to your novel, the main character is about to shut the cop up with a heated kiss in hopes he will forget his evidence only for your phone to buzz.

You sigh picking it up as an unknown number flashes across the screen with a picture of charred men attached to an ominous text that reads.

"I would pull your men out of my territory if I were you."

A cat smile spreads across your lips as dejavu sets in. It is only a matter of time before you add another broken double band to your empire.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 19: The Eleventh Hour

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

With Adrian no longer on death row everyone is forced to go underground; literally. Everyone takes time in the Shadow Den to regroup. Nadya finally talks about her visions.

[READ IT ON AO3]

When Adrian turns around he’s straightening out the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves; rolls his freshly healed wrists to get used to the movement again and then gestures widely to his audience of two for critique.

“How do I look?”

Nadya’s foot jiggles over her knee. “I dunno. Something’s just…”

“Just what?” Adrian’s never been one she’d take as vain but anything less than a perfect ten seems to worry him. He looks to Lily. “What’s wrong, will I not blend in?”

Lily’s present only in body — has to look up and push her reading glasses away from the tip of her nose to survey him. She nods and clicks her tongue, “Oh, I see what you mean.”

“Right?”

“Exactly.”

Adrian snaps to grab their attention. “Will one of you tell me what you’re seeing? Please?”

Nadya approaches him with a grin and pulls him down by the ratty collar of his borrowed shirt. The much stronger, much faster vampire actually squeezes his eyes shut when she reaches up and ruffles his hair; replaces his carefully maintained pressed comb with imperfect dishevelment.

“Much better.”

“Yeah,” Lily sets her computer aside for a proper view, “nobody here looks that put together. Not even my girl — and she spends an hour on her curls every night.”

With a scoff Adrian gives Nadya a playful push, mutters about his hair being just fine the way it is. But she doesn’t miss the quick turn he gives back to the cracked vanity mirror in the corner.

“Ready then? Let’s get going.”

The familiar smell of instant ramen makes Jax and Mari’s loft feel a little more homey; for Nadya anyway. Lily joins her girlfriend by the single stove and inhales with deep longing. They share a brief kiss before Maricruz gives Adrian her approval with a nod.

“‘Sex hair’ is a good look on you. For a dude.”

Jax and Kamilah look their way from where they sit across from one another at the small table. The sight reminds Nadya to make sure to check in on Brandon and Greer when this is all over.

Please let this all be over soon.

Nadya goes to sit on Kamilah’s side when Adrian pulls out a chair for her before first taking his own; wedges her in between the Council (well, former Council now) vampires like her personal bodyguards.

“We don’t know how long we’re going to be hiding out here, Kamilah. You should work to blend in.”

Adrian’s comment draws a slow roll of her eyes. The moment she saw him safe and sound in person was the moment things started to back to normal for the closed-up vampiress. Already Nadya’s found it practically impossible to get any sort of physical affection from her.

She gives him the same brush-off. “I see no point in a ruse no one will believe.”

Across the table Jax doesn’t look up from where he’s scrubbing ash out of his jacket but he does cough out a laugh. “At least someone’s honest.”

But Adrian disagrees. “There are over a hundred vampires — at least — scouring New York for us. That’s not even taking into account who from our own Clans may have decided to turn traitor…” His voice grows a sharp edge. “We already know of at least one.”

Nicole. Her name and presence lingers over them like a cold breath. Now that her hand is healed courtesy of Mari’s blood she wouldn’t mind sustaining a repeat injury.

He continues, “We may be safe down here for now but this isn’t a permanent solution.”

“You’re damn right it isn’t.”

Nadya stops mid-thanks at Lily for bringing her over a bowl of ramen to glare Jax’s way.

“Hey — come on, now. We’re in this together.”

“You will hold up your end of our bargain,” Kamilah adds.

As his deputy takes her seat and pulls Lily into her lap Jax makes a gesture of slamming his wooden brush against the table surface. Hot broth slips from Nadya’s spoon and narrowly misses her thigh.

He looks at Kamilah with the same challenge as he had earlier.

“As far as I’m concerned any bargain of ours is done,” he growls, “you needed help getting Abercrombie here out of the Baron’s cells and that’s what we did. Giving him safe harbor in the Shadow Den is pretty much where my generosity ends when it comes to the likes of you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten anything that the Clans have done to me and mine up until now.”

Nadya can feel Kamilah’s aura change beside her. It makes her stomach turn; makes her a little less starving than she was a moment ago.

But before she can reach out and try to take the woman’s hand Adrian takes them all by surprise — leans forward on his elbows with laced fingers in front of a grim frown.

“We’re not trying to cast any of that aside.”

“Good. Then we can start talking about your reparations.”

“Now?” Adrian can’t keep a cool face. He isn’t the only one, either.

Maricruz winds one of Lily’s locs around her wrist — playing with it like it’s alive; a pet snake of some sort. “Not that anyone asked for my advice but if your goal is to keep on living then staying in town isn’t the best idea.”

“By now I suspect all public and conventionally private ways off of the island are well-guarded by their Clans.” Kamilah points out.

“Not to mention with the influence Vega has alone?” It makes Nadya shudder. “I’m afraid to see tonight’s paper. My Raines Corp. ID photo isn’t exactly the most flattering.”

“Really,” Jax snaps, “that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, but if you really want to know everything I’m worried about I’d get comfortable because we could be here a while.”

The hunger is definitely starting to make her crabby — she starts eating so there’s something stopping her from running her mouth. They need to come up with a plan but nothing will get done if they’re at each other’s throats like this.

Pun not intended — but appreciated. Even if it’s only appreciated by her.

His chair squeaks when Jax stands up; tugs his jacket on with jerking motions. “I’ll say this one more time just in case you weren’t paying attention,” he leers at Kamilah and Adrian, “Mari and I risked our skins to get you out of there. I know firsthand how terrible the Cellars can be. But don’t think I did it out of pity or a sense of justice — she-witch here says you care about my people? Prove it. Start fixing what you broke.”

And Adrian takes every punch like a champ — sits there with the same calm and collected face he uses for business meetings, conference calls. The moment Jax starts harping on Kamilah, though, he looks ready for a fight.

Whether it’s the vampire feud or the rush of testosterone Nadya can’t tell — either way something’s gonna give, and soon.

So she gives first.

“Okay, Jax. Cool. We’ll keep that in mind.” Do not. Do not. Do not dare start something…

Adrian doesn’t. Jax turns away. No resolution is still better than conflict in her book.

The silence that follows is just plain weird. Even Lily — a master in the art of distraction-by-small-talk — starts trying to teach herself to whistle.

Finally Mari taps her girlfriend off of her; says more with her eyes than her words and Lily gives a sheepish “well, we’ve got work to do so…” to signal their hasty departure.

“You guys aren’t really going to run, are you?” Nadya surprises herself by asking.

She wouldn’t blame them if they did. It’s the smart thing, the tactical thing to do; try and get as far from the Council’s influence as possible and regroup; gather their strength then return to kick butt ten-fold.

Adrian sighs. “Nadya, please understand —”

He falls silent when Kamilah holds up a hand. The woman wets her bottom lip and when she speaks her words are, as ever, carefully chosen.

“Only once in my life have I turned tail to fight another day. At the time it was better to lose the battle for the sake of the war. And such cowardice has haunted me ever since.

“This is not a war — this is a mad scramble for power by creatures who think they understand what power truly is. I—we—will show them what it means to hold real power; and what happens to those who dare cross it.”

And then there were two.

Whether Adrian takes in the room around them because of natural curiosity or because he can’t look Nadya in the eyes — it doesn’t matter. She’s suddenly entranced by the way her hands look in her lap anyway.

She wants to go after Kamilah so bad but loyalty to Adrian keeps her seated right where she is. Doesn’t stop her from yearning, fleeting looks in the direction of the hall.

“Go ahead.”

When Nadya looks Adrian is standing; messing with the supposedly ‘perfect’ look that she and Lily had given him earlier. Less pressed lines and seamless folds; like the real Adrian is being revealed by shedding skin.

She pushes her chair in — goes to follow but Adrian stops her with a gentle hand.

“No, not with me.” He jerks his head aside. “I think it’s best if I do some thinking alone, anyway.”

It makes Nadya scoff. “No way — I’m not letting you go out into the plaza alone.”

“What, do you think I can’t take care of myself or something?”

“Well if the last few days are any evidence…”

“Nadya.”

“What if you’re recognized? What if they try to attack you?”

She’s just making up excuses. They both know it. Just like they both know she wants to take the opportunity he’s giving her but lord she’s terrified.

“I can take care of myself.” With both hands firmly on her shoulders Adrian looks down into her eyes — just like he used to back at the office. Before she knew he was a vampire; before everything that’s happened. “Right now it looks to me like Kamilah’s the one who needs a little help being taken care of.”

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he says it; his approval. Not that she needed it but it definitely doesn’t hurt.

“Be careful, promise?”

“Of course.”

“No, you have to promise.”

She slips between his hands and wraps him in a tight hug. Not warm or cozy; he’s solid. And that’s what she’s grown to count on more than anything else. Because if he’s solid that means he’s there, and if he’s there that means he’s safe — that means she helped.

“Promise?” Nadya asks in a whisper.

“I promise.”

Kamilah’s stagnant figure in the middle of the hallway catches her off guard. Makes Nadya wonder if she made the wrong choice in trying now, of all times, to try and get the vampiress to talk.

She doesn’t have to clear her throat. Kamilah probably can’t hear anything over the thundering of her heartbeat.

“I…” Kamilah’s voice falters and doesn’t that set Nadya on edge, “I realized I have nowhere to…”

It’s not just Adrian who has lost everything in all this. Even if Kamilah chose to stay above ground the entire Council would be on her in an instant. Who else would break all the rules to rescue him if not for her?

She left to find some peace but there’s no peace to be found in a home that isn’t hers.

At her side Nadya gingerly takes Kamilah’s hand in hers — keeps it chaste; like a light at the end of a tunnel. “Here, this way.” And Kamilah follows.

She closes the door to Lily’s room behind them. Roommates again — until the end probably. But she knows her best friend wouldn’t mind sharing the space if only to help wash that lost look off of Kamilah’s normally confident features.

At least she looks a little bit like herself when her nose crinkles at the sight of Lily’s mess.

“It’s no penthouse condo, but…”

“No,” Kamilah contradicts, “no it… it is more than I have, and that is more than enough.”

Nadya rubs her hands over her bare arms quickly before common sense kicks in — brings her to the small and ancient space heater in the corner which comes to life with only a little fight.

Kamilah watches with unnerving focus. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah. Living underground must be great when you can’t feel the chill but some of us are still alive.” She tries to laugh — to make it a joke. Kamilah must not find it that funny.

The longer they stand the more the space between them feels less like a room and more like a chasm. One Nadya isn’t sure she can leap across.

Her dumb rambling mode kicks in in tandem with what Kamilah’s been holding back.

“So there’s this guy who sells —”

“We never discussed what happened —”

It’s so quiet a pin dropping could shatter someone’s eardrum.

“You—uh—You go first.” Nadya takes up the edge of the bed.

The woman in front of her isn’t the Kamilah she’s used to; still full of things unsaid as always but rather than picking them apart piece-by-piece and taking command she seems unsure. Hesitancy isn’t a good look on her.

“Very well.”

“‘Course.”

“We never discussed what happened in the Council chamber.” Not what she was hoping Kamilah wanted to talk about.

“I didn’t think we had to. We were both there.”

“You know it isn’t the trial I’m referring to.”

Yeah, she knows. She just doesn’t want to think about it. Thinks if she ignores it for long enough maybe it just never happened. That could be said about a lot of things that’ve gone down lately.

There’s a smooth finger under her chin and it brings her to look up; Kamilah suddenly closer than close. The overhead lightbulb hidden just behind her head casts her in a halo of light.

“Tell me what you know.”

“I… I can’t.” If I do you’ll pull away from me.

“It may be difficult to recall, but please try.”

“No, I physically can’t.” You’ll think there’s something wrong with me. I think there’s something wrong with me.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Kamilah…” Kamilah…

“Nadya, I beg of you.”

She’s so scared her mind doesn’t automatically slide into the gutter and that says everything. Makes Nadya swallow down the bile rising in the back of her throat. She closes her eyes.

It’s not like pulling up a dream — struggling to remember things beyond the strange details that make dreaming fun. No… it’s like unlocking a steel safe. It’s like opening a dam. No.

It’s breaking a dam.

And with nothing to hold them back the floodwaters rush forward in a churning mass of black water. Fill the room and seep into her lungs in their desperate attempt to consume every inch of her existence. The words burst from her. Tumble over one another giddy with freedom and eager to see the world beyond.

She tells Kamilah about the voices outside Marcel’s library. About the Painting within. Tries to conjure up some definition — old or new — to explain the emotion she felt when looking at it but it falls flat so she just moves on.

On to the nightmares that came after. The sticky, wet feeling of blood coating her body that she can’t scrub away no matter how hard she tries. Knowing the taste of Kamilah’s lips with the breath of a dying man still lingering on the tip of her tongue. Feeling victory and rage and the lust of the kill that she should never ever have to feel to begin with. Seeing Adrian as Soldier and Kamilah as Queen.

“And when you told Jax —” how Kamilah can understand her through her blubbering tears and pain she doesn’t know; is just thankful she’s not being asked to keep herself together, “— when you told him ‘never again’ I knew. I knew what you meant. I could see it.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“The corpses and the ash. The blood on your faces but… but it wasn’t their blood. It was yours — your kind.”

“Other vampires.”

“Mm,” she nods, “and the… the pain of the fallen kingdom and the promise of the new one. His promise.” Please dear god don’t make me say his name.

Kamilah doesn’t; she’s not doing a lot of things which is the scary part. Hovers over her now more of a demon behind firelight than anything with a holy halo and at first Nadya was glad it shadowed the look in Kamilah’s eyes but now she’s afraid of what’s being hidden; the revulsion — the judgment.

“And the throne?”

Even the word ignites a white-hot pain in her skull. Makes Nadya press the heels of her palms against her temples and clench her teeth and beg for it to end. She knows how to make it stop — she just doesn’t want to do it. Because talking about it makes it real. More than that it hurts Kamilah.

Cool ice brushes beads of sweat aside; moves little wisps of hair out of her eyes. Kamilah’s touch is still soft. Kind.

“It was his. His throne, his empire, his kingdom and crown and… and you took it all away.”

Nadya watches her own trembling hand reach up and cup the curve of Kamilah’s cheek. “You took away everything he built. Threw it back in his face. He built you a dynasty and you drowned it in his blood.”

Even if everything else is a fever-dream; a hallucination brought on by god-knows-what to torture her and proven to be nothing more than the result of a lifetime of bad choices and a crazy imagination… she’s certain in that. Certain in the only steady words she’s managed so far.

She knows it. Kamilah knows it too.

The same cold covers Nadya’s hand; not ice but the vampire’s touch. Holds her there; holds them connected in an intimacy she isn’t sure she deserves.

“I’m scared —” an exhale, “— KamilahI’msoscared.”

If Kamilah pulls away Nadya isn’t sure what would become of her. She feels incorporeal — nonexistent. Like a voice on the wind narrating the story but without a place in it.

But she stays. She keeps Nadya grounded. Roots her to the earth until she has the energy to find her body on her own.

What happens now?

Her body screams loud enough for Kamilah to hear — thankful she doesn’t have to physically ask.

“The things you have endured alone… why did you not share them; not even with your friend? Did you think she wouldn’t believe you?”

“No, she would…”

“Then why?”

Nadya takes in a breath so deep her lungs strain against capacity. The pain calms her racing mind.

“Because saying it aloud made it real. And I didn’t want it to be real.”

Suddenly the overhead light blinds her and Nadya throws the back of her hand over her eyes. Feels the place where Kamilah and her meet move down until she can see the woman on bended knee.

“You know more about events long gone than anyone left alive. Not just of Adrian, of the Council, of… of myself…” She fights down her words — something exists she isn’t yet ready to say. “You know of things Adrian and I would never have you know for fear you would see our true monstrosity.”

“What? Kamilah—no—I—”

A finger presses to her lips. “I see your pain, Nadya. I see what this burden has done to you. And I’m sorry — I’ve failed you. I can’t give you your answers when there are none to give.”

“You don’t know what’s wrong with me?” Kamilah shakes her head. Nadya’s heart sinks — there goes the small grain of hope she had that in her centuries of life Kamilah might know something.

Kamilah’s rueful laugh takes them both by surprise. “Of all the vampires for you to endure the memories of, too. I knew him better than anyone and even I would not suffer what lurked around in his twisted mind.”

“… Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Their eyes meet sharply. Kamilah eases herself back onto the bed beside Nadya and, in a completely unprompted display of affection, coaxes her to lay on her side with her head in the woman’s lap.

“Forgive me. I spoke without thinking.”

“It’s okay,” if this is Kamilah’s idea of apologizing she’s so happy to forgive her. “There’s just one thing.”

“Hm?”

“If you think you see me blushing it’s — well I’m not. I know it looks like I am but it’s just the crying. Crying makes me blush.”

She looks up to an amused sparkle in the woman’s eyes. The feeling of sharp nails carding through her scalp is soothing — a constant motion that doesn’t require remembering or crying or trying to speak through the pain. She basks in it selfishly.

“Which is it,” muses Kamilah, “are you not blushing, or are you blushing but from the tears?”

While Nadya gapes like a trout the figure above her seizes advantage of the opportunity. Leans down and lets cold lips linger on her feverish brow.

“Initially I found your expressions overzealous and unnecessary,” comes a whisper in Nadya’s ear, “but now I think I’ve become fond of their dramatiquement.”

“Well I am a bit of an acquired taste.”

“Not by Adrian’s description.”

Every thought both good and bad flies out her ears at that — gives her brain less distraction and lets it focus on the dusting trail Kamilah creates down to the dip of her chin. Her throat just beyond.

Nadya holds her breath. Stares wide-eyed up at the uncovered light until she doesn’t have to blink to see spots and then some. Just waits.

And though her body tenses in the anticipation of pain Kamilah isn’t deterred — lands a kiss to the hollow near her chin before righting herself back above.

“Breathe, Nadya.”

She obeys a little too enthusiastically. At least one of them finds it funny.

“God, I’m such a soggy pancake.” Probably not the thing to say. Who explains that to someone who was alive before pancakes even existed? Not that it stops her rambling from trying. “It’s — uh — Lily and I, we —”

“Say no more.”

“Yup, good idea.”

But now the vampire’s interest is piqued. “Care to explain why you are… as you said?”

No, she’d really not care to in the slightest.

“Because this is definitely not when I had in mind when we came in here.”

The nails stop mid-stroke. It takes Nadya way too long to realize they won’t start again until she continues. If Kamilah knows her weak spots already she’s doomed — no question.

She squirms but complies; “I guess I just… we went into the trial but kissed before that and I thought, you know, with Adrian out of immediate danger we might take the time to — you know — just…”

“Sleep together again?”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“Not outwardly. Ah ah —” before Nadya can turn away in shame Kamilah’s grip tightens in her hair; keeps her right where she’s wanted, “— did I say you could move?”

How the hell does someone answer something like that? “N—o…?”

“Correct. Stay.”

She stays. Oh boy does she stay.

Over her head Kamilah looks thoughtful. Hums so low it’s a catlike purr while she loses herself in her thoughts and Nadya’s hair.

“Though we are out of the immediate danger, it would be best to wait until we can fully dedicate a time to discuss what happened before the trial.”

And because it isn’t the ‘making you quiver in orgasm was fun but doesn’t bear repeating’ she was expecting Nadya stops breathing again. This time, though, it’s a good thing.

“I’d like that.”

Kamilah drags a fingertip over the round of her cheek. “I would as well.”

She’s seen the kind of strength older vampires can have; seen Kamilah lift a stone slab like it was nothing and the power of the Council combined fighting off a wall of greying snarling Ferals.

But all of the vampires — at least the ones she’s met — in the Shadow Den seem pretty new to the life. Maricruz is the oldest around as far as she’s aware. And if older vampires somehow wander into the strange life of the outcasts they likely don’t stay long.

So it makes her wonder just how many of the Shadow Den’s loyal gathered together to help move the old and worn stone fountain from the surface down below to the center of the plaza. And did they know, heave-hoing together, what their teamwork was going to be used for?

When asked why the plaza’s community avoided even looking at the fountain and the shrine it had become, Lily had told her that it was a thing of respect; “Some of them don’t want to look at familiar faces,” she’s said, “and those who don’t know anyone just feel uncomfortable seeing the dead. They might not be human anymore but that… that stays with them — us.”

Which means Nadya isn’t surprised to find the end of the plaza occupied by the fountain’s importance mostly empty. She’s gotten used to it.

Adrian hasn’t.

It must be daytime up top; stalls unoccupied and vendors packed away for their hours of sleep. She’s struggling keeping a body clock these days but habit is habit.

The center piece of the fountain must once have been three or more people; their humanoid shapes remain but the rest has been chipped away or eroded from the seasons. Discolor and rust still runs freely where water used to pour. The base of the fountain is wide and still empty; sprawls outward to a short stone wall that acts as a rim.

It’s just as ramshackle as the rest of the Den but that doesn’t stop it from looking out of place. More like it belongs in a Roman ruin than underneath the old subway tunnels of Manhattan.

“Can I join you?”

Adrian doesn’t say anything — which isn’t a no — so Nadya steps over the rim and sets herself on the rim beside him.

The light of dozens of candles flicker in his eyes. It’s how he would look in a church, Nadya thinks. Can’t get the image out of her mind once she sees it. Adrian in the place of a traditional mourner in front of the rows of candles placed for the memories of the dead.

There’s no breeze to make the little flames whip on their wicks. They burn constant and bright. Illuminate the polaroids, drawings, names written in both delicate cursive and angry blocked marker.

These are the fallen.

And the longer Nadya looks at him the more he changes; the more Adrian takes on each and every name, face, and candle in their memory on as his own burden.

What does someone say to that?

“I recognize a few of these faces.”

Adrian starts for her. Starts in the worst way possible and it makes her heart sink because that’s exactly what she didn’t want to her. But he wants to talk about it. Maybe he needs to.

Nadya places her hand over his; silent permission that he takes.

“When we first began the Council we knew there would be difficulty making things just; making them… amenable for all those involved. Not just because we were demanding those who followed us to change their entire way of life — but because we were still on the heels of… of the worst possible scenario. I won’t deny that on some level we were being led by our fear to force change. Or at least I was…”

She squeezes his hand. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want to, Nadya.”

“But to me?”

He tears himself away from the memorial; fixes his watery eyes on her with determination.

“I think you’re the only person who might really understand.”

“Why?”

“You’ve seen both sides. You have loved ones on both sides.”

“So, what,” she snorts, “I’m Switzerland for vampires?” Bad timing for any joke. He doesn’t laugh — but doesn’t pull away.

Adrian just goes back to torturing himself with every addition to the fountain of the lost.

“We had bigger Clans at first. New York was booming, you know? It still is. But they became too hard to manage. Too many people kept toeing the line and there comes a time when ‘making an example’ becomes just pure punishment for punishment’s sake.

“So we went down, and down… to the number we have now. It was enough. Small; strict in the eyes of some like Marcel or the Families in the South, but enough. And we made it clear that if our laws weren’t to your liking then you could leave and find a living somewhere else.”

“But —” She stops herself; literally bites her tongue. It’s not her place to argue. She doesn’t know what it must have been like to make those choices.

Only Adrian’s feeling a little masochistic at the moment so he urges her to continue with a look.

She sighs — tries again; “But… well, think about how that sounds, Adrian. You’re telling people to agree to your terms or leave what might be the only lives they’ve ever known; the only place they’ve ever lived.”

“If they wanted to Turn that badly then they would have to live with the risks and consequences.”

“But you’re acting like everyone has that choice.” It was a naive way of thinking and maybe something she would still think if not for Lily — having to make that choice for someone was the hardest in the world. It makes her think of Liv, and the little girl Jax doted on named Lulu, and Jeremy who sells the roasted nuts. None of them had a choice.

And those were only the ones she’d met.

“I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have —”

“No, you’re right. And maybe that kind of thinking would have helped things change earlier… when they needed to. Not now when it feels like it’s too late.”

Both of Nadya’s hands on his forces Adrian to drag himself away from his self-imposed punishment of witness again. She feels for him — feels with him — but refuses to let him wallow here in self-pity.

“I refuse to let you wallow here in self-pity,” says Nadya because sometimes she just can’t not speak her mind, “because it’s not too late. You can make changes.”

“But all the casualties…”

“You can’t bring them back; no. But you can make sure they don’t need to bring down another one of these things when they run out of space.”

It gets the barest quirk at the corner of his lips. Better than nothing. Nadya reaches up and brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes — anything less than Wall Street is not his look and that’s just the fact of the matter.

She continues; “You want to help, Adrian. That’s so important. And you will help, too, trust me on that. Only when your name is cleared and you’re safe, though.”

His glance is harrowed with a worry he works hard to keep below the surface. “You make it sound simple. It won’t be — please know that.”

“Oh trust me — I do,” god she does, “but at this point if I don’t try to lighten the mood then no one will, and imagining you all trying to get this done with a big dark cloud over your heads is honestly giving me massive anxiety.”

Because he’s Adrian he turns a simple hand-hold in solidarity into putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close against him. She snakes her arm around his waist and does the same — lets the world know there shouldn’t even be an atom of space between them.

When things are better — when things are right again — this is how it should be. How it will be.

“There are days when I regret ever bringing you into my world Nadya,” whispers Adrian against her hair, “because you’re human — so wonderfully human — and you shouldn’t have to see the ugly parts of the world like this. You shouldn’t be in danger like this.”

It takes her a second to find something to grab onto but she manages to pinch his side as hard as she can. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Shut up and stop thinking like that. I chose this — remember? I chose to know.”

“And I thank whatever gods there are that you did.”

They pull back and exchange familiar smiles. “Really?”

“I don’t think I would have made it this far without you; so yes.”

“Just consider me your lucky charm.” It might not be the biggest smile in the world but it’s not as hard to muster this time around.

Nadya stands and pulls him up by his hand; makes sure he doesn’t trip over the fountain rim and tugs even harder so he doesn’t look back one last time. “Come on — we have a game plan to get to.”

“Wait, don’t we have to actually plan first?”

“Yeah yeah, that too.”

It’s hard for Nadya to give her presentation with even a percentage of her usual flair without the proper materials. But Lily could only find her markers in three different colors and while she’d rather make use of the Raines Corp. brilliant smartboard she makes do with a flattened cardboard box and extra imagination.

With everything scribbled down, bullet-pointed, and circled for extra emphasis she caps her marker for a final time and rounds on the balls of her feet to face the captive audience.

“So… what do we think?”

Jax scoffs and slips lower into his chair. “I know what I think.” He has to quickly duck a punch from Lily, who reaches over Maricruz to do it, and while Nadya’s thankful for the support she has to shake her head.

“No no, we need to be honest about this or it’ll never work. Go ahead, Jax.”

He straightens. “It’s a crazy, dumb plan. And it doesn’t even get us to the people we need to get to.”

“Yeah, I dunno chica — I think he has a point,” Mari shrugs beside him, “why would we go after these small fish instead of the big catch? Sure we’re not enough numbers to take on their whole Clans but, I dunno, get them all in one room and we’d probably hold our own pretty well.”

She gets it, she does, but Nadya’s already gone over everything three times; a feat to be memorialized taking into account her lack of coffee the last few nights.

“One more time — I’m only saying this one more time!” She goes to smack a marker against her makeshift board and instead it goes flying into the corner of the room.

“At the trial everything was going pretty decent — barring, uh, Adrian being in a torture chair — until two key things happened. One: using Nicole as his key witness. Both of them lied about having documents and evidence and whatever they needed to make Adrian look bad, which means they’re in it together. Vega knew Nicole’s testimony would be taken seriously because of her status in the company —”

“— and because of our longstanding history together.” Adrian finishes for her; grits his teeth and she can hear the crack and grind of his knuckles as he keeps himself in check.

“Exactly. And if they’re in cahoots — Lily stop laughing — then that means Vega’s promised Nicole something. We need to find out what that is.”

“Probably something to dislodge the stick from her…”

“Lily!”

She holds up her hands in a dramatic claim of innocence; doesn’t stop from high-fiving Mari.

After a sigh Nadya continues; “Then there’s the Trinity. I’m sorry, but you vanish for almost a century and then just so happen to reappear at the same party that gets attacked, and come forward as witnesses against a guy you don’t even know for no obvious reason because — what — you’re good-hearted people? Nope; I’m not buying it.

“They’re in league with Vega somehow. I don’t even want to start thinking about how, or why, or whatever, but they lied about Adrian’s alibi and that’s what made Vega’s case in the end. So if we find out why they lied and what they’re getting out of it we might be able to… I dunno; re-negotiate? Or change their minds, or something.”

“But we’re not doing that for Nicole, right?”

“Not a chance.”

Kamilah switches her crossed legs and stares at the board with a pensive frown. “While a sound theory — it operates under a great deal many assumptions. And they will not take lightly to accusations without proof.”

“Well we may be a little short on proof, but I’ve got plenty of enthusiasm and I find that usually makes up for most things.” For example: the fact that she’s utterly terrified to see Valdas and Isseya again; yet still continues on with enthusiasm despite the fear.

Mari raises her hand — humoring her only just since she doesn’t wait before speaking. “So who do we pin down first?”

“Ah, yes, see, that’s the problem. One’s gonna alert the other no matter what — Vega and the Council too no doubt — so…”

“So we divide and conquer.”

All eyes on Adrian gravely rubbing his chin. “It isn’t an ideal plan but this isn’t an ideal situation. At least if we get at both on separate fronts we can buy ourselves just enough time to skip town should things go badly.”

Kamilah nods. “Agreed.”

“So who goes where?” asks Nadya.

“As much as I’d like to confront Nicole about what she’s done I don’t want to risk being seen entering the building. She knows the ins and outs of that place just as well as I do — any underground entrance will be covered during the day and at night I’ve no doubt she’s got Clan backup. Kamilah, Nadya — you two would be in the same danger.”

“Well that solves it quickly —” Lily starts pointing fingers, “— Team Clanless gets to B-and-E Raines Corp. again and Team Partycrashers go after the rich bitches.”

Out of all the stunned faces it’s Adrian who recovers first. “Team… what?”

“It was spur of the moment. I’ll think of something better.”

But it’s a sound idea — makes the most sense. There’s no way she’s letting Adrian confront the Trinity alone; even if she has to swallow down the memory of Isseya’s clawed hand around her throat.

“We have a plan then.” Nadya tries not to sound so hesitant — either shares the feeling with everyone else or they’re content to ignore it for her.

Jax glances at Lily’s watch. “Four in the afternoon — we’ve got three hours to prepare what we can. We meet at the van and split once we’re above ground…” He trails off, seems unsure if he should keep going — does anyway. “Should we make a plan for after; set up a rendezvous point?”

Nobody answers. They’re all thinking the same thing: there’s being optimistic and then there’s being foolish — and trying to plan that far ahead is definitely foolish.

They go their separate ways yet again. Nadya watches turned backs wade through the tension all the way up to their waists.

Three hours to overthink everything. That’s what her brain says; screams it actually.

Then there’s a soft hand on her hip and the familiar smell of Kamilah’s perfume behind her. A thumb stroking under her shirt makes her thoughts fade to whispers. Lips on her neck make her weak in the knees.

Her chin is tilted aside in a kiss and her mind goes blissfully blank.

[lubdubsworld]

Unloved. ( Jungkookx OC)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 ~ 

“I think we should start the teasers this week. They’re ready, aren’t they?”  Jennie Kim looked sharp as a dagger as she glared fiercely at the head of the editing department, who squeaked a little in surprise.

 I watched as the grown man almost tripped as he scrambled off his seat , fingers getting caught in his tie when he tried to push a file across the mahogany table. 

Jennie huffed, looking long-suffering and put upon as she flipped the file open  , revealing some plastic filers,  filled with portfolio shots for the week’s issue. 

The head of the editing dept began to say something, only to have his voice crack. He cleared his throat before trying again. 

“We have seven shortlisted. We can start with one of them ...” He said hastily and she stared at them with a critical eye before nodding. 

“Send them to my desk later and I’ll pick the best one.” She turned around to stare at me, face unreadable, but a very shrewd glint in her eye. I managed to keep a straight face. 

“You’ll be the one covering the story, Ms. Jung? ” She said politely and i swallowed.

 Earlier that day, Jennie had dropped in to my office,  looking calculative and guarded. 

She told me that there was no compulsion for me to take this project from her side and she had been made aware of certain ‘ delicate ‘ issues between me and Jungkook . But she trusted me to rise above such ‘insignificant’  things and hoped i wouldn’t prove her wrong. It would be a shame to let such a ‘ senior’ writer ‘ go’ because of silly high school dramatics. 

As far as threats went, it wasn’t a particularly subtle one. 

But she had also assured me that if everything went well,  this would put me in the spotlight for a promotion and maybe my own weekly column, no restrictions , no set topics. I could be my own boss. 

My heart fluttered at the thought of an independent column, with my name on it. It definitely trumped getting fired and living on the streets. 

“uh... Yes. i’m scheduled to meet Mr. Jeon and his fiancee in two days.” I smiled weakly and she hummed.

“Get a haircut.” She said thoughtfully.

I blinked.

“I...sorry?” I stared at her, certain I’d misheard. 

“I think it would make the story more evocative if you put a personal spin to it. From your own point of view. You come from a, excuse my language, much plainer background than Mr. Jeon so it would be interesting to see your personal take on a luxurious wedding between two powerful people..”

She looked downright cruel as she smiled at me, teeth white and sharp. 

I gripped my pencil a little harder. 

“Of course.” I ducked my head. 

The rest of the meeting went much the same way, me scribbling notes to make sure i didn’t deviate from the ‘ vision’ she had for the story. The phrases stung. She talked about how it was fitting that a man like Jungkook chose a woman like Kira. How marriages built on compatibility and a common goal were far more likely to survive and how it was important for two people to be made from the same ‘cloth’ to truly be good enough for each other. 

By the time we were done , my head was spinning with regrets and my heart felt a little like it had been used as a punching bag. When i gathered my things to leave she gave me a tight-lipped smile.

“don’t forget what i said, Nara. If you keep it together the next six weeks, there’s a lot of good things heading your way. Don’t ruin it by making silly choices.” 

I realized that she truly thought that I was going to try and sabotage the wedding somehow. The mere idea was laughable.

“Trust me Ms Kim , there is absolutely nothing personal in my relationship with Jungkook.” I said tiredly and she hummed. 

“So they all say, Nara. Don’t forget the haircut. You’d look less like roadkill then.” She glanced disdainfully at my messy long hair. I stared after her, struggling to keep my emotions in check. 

I wasn’t going to get a stupid haircut. This wasn’t my wedding and i wasn’t obligated to look good for anyone. 

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

I woke up two hours early on the day i was scheduled to meet Jungkook and his fiancee for lunch. It was a little past five thirty in the morning and there was a thunderstorm raging outside. I dragged myself to the huge french windows on the corner of the living room, wrapping my blanket tighter around myself and peering out into the pouring rain. 

I felt ..odd. Not angry or lonely per se, but just a little empty. 

I was old. A lot older than what my nineteen year old self had deemed as ‘ old’.

Twenty nine was the age when...everything in my life was supposed to be already done and settled. Job, spouse, children , a house. 

Everything. 

Somehow reality had turned out to be a little different. 

 I was out on almost all counts. My job was fine, yes, but apparently i wasn’t as indispensable as I’d thought I was. It hung on this assignment . 

My dating life was non-existent.  It had been a little over eight and a half months since I’d been on a date . Almost two years since my last relationship , which could hardly be called that seeing as that hadn’t lasted even a full two weeks. The guy had been an exchange student just looking for a good time and had broken things off over a text . Over the next few months , I’d had a lot of mediocre to pretty average first or second dates but none of them had called back or made further advances. 

In time I sort of gave up.  

i gripped my hot mug of coffee and took a small sip.

“It’s okay.” i said out loud, watching my breath cloud the mirror in front of me. It was getting colder, although the sky was steadily brightening. 

“It’s going to be okay.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Jennie had told me that a camera crew would be accompanying me. Apparently, a very famous luxury lifestyle channel had picked up exclusive rights to run a small cover documentary on the couple and they would be having their own writers and producers and what not. Jennie assured me that they would stay out of my way , because the magazine article would be the priority. 

But apparently, they’d roped in an award winning cinematographer from Busan, a young dynamic chap who wanted to give a ‘fresh twist’ to the story. Incidentally, the cinematographer's hotel was just a couple blocks away from my sister’s home. 

So he had offered to pick me up on the way to the meeting. 

I spent a few extra minutes getting ready. There wasn’t much point in fixing my hair, the humidity in the air would have its way with my messy curls anyway. I did pluck out a few errant hairs on my brow, adding a small bit of lipstick just to stop my lips from looking too lifeless. 

I didn’t have a lot of bright or pretty clothes and I picked out a pale minty green dress with a stylish shoulder cape, a cinched waist and a pleated skirt that stopped just below my knee. I pulled a stool to the closet to rummage around in one of the top shelves, looking for the shoes my sister had got me for my graduation : cream- white strappy sandals with two inch kitten heels and dainty little stone studded flowers near the toes. 

i stared at myself in the mirror, feeling stupid.

I had seen pictures of Kira Hirakuma .

I didn’t compare in any way or form.

 What was i even doing? .

But it was too late now to change. And I doubted the Park Hyatt welcomed female guests who wore faded graphic t shirts and  worn-out mom jeans.

The phone rang. It was the front desk. My’ ride’ was here.

Grabbing my recorder, my handbag and my phone and keys, I dashed out of the apartment. I frowned when I saw a message in my phone, the number unfamiliar. 

 I could drive down with you. Let me know if you need a ride, Nara.  -jjk

 i stared at the message for a while, trying to process it. I’d almost fully forgotten that Jungkook lived in the same building. I considered responding but decided against it.

 He shouldn’t have offered in the first place, I thought firmly. 

it was still raining when i reached the lobby and I felt my anxiety and shyness rise like a crushing wave when I saw how handsome the guy was.

“Hello, Jung Nara right ?” He smiled wide, eyes crinkling beatifically and I felt my tongue stick to my roof. I could only nod wordlessly, palms starting to sweat immediately. He looked amused as he shook my clammy hand. 

“I’m..hi.” I croaked out. 

“i’m Park Jimin. I’ve heard great things about you. And i read a bunch of your articles on the way here. You truly have a way with words.” He said , voice warm and genuine.

“I..uh..buh.” My mouth proceeded to prove him wrong as i struggled to form legible syllables . He was very handsome and he seemed sweet. It was impossible to keep my heart from giving a pathetically hopeful little leap. The stupid things was notorious when it came to pining after men who were way out of my league. 

 I cleared my throat. 

Get it together, Nara. 

“ I’m sorry... it’s been a rough few days. thank you. I’ve heard good things about you too, Jimin ssi.” I smiled.

“Let’s go shall we? The Kook i know usually gets pretty cranky when people make him wait.” He laughed, signalling the valet.

“You know Jungkook?” I asked weakly and Jimin hummed.

“Not well. He was a few years below me in high school, but we ran in different circles. I heard that you guys uh... dated for a while. ” He gave me a quick, embarrassed glance and I flinched. 

“We’re all young and stupid sometimes. ” I laughed weakly and he chuckled.

“Well, all’s well that ends well. He seems pretty happy now and you’re doing pretty well as well.”

I swallowed and took a step away.

“I think the car’s here...” I croaked out , pointing at the valet who was looking around curiously. Jimin hummed and held a hand out.

“Want me to carry that for you?” He smiled, pointing at my bulky backpack and I clutched it tighter before I could stop myself. 

“Uh..I’m fine. But thanks . For, you know offering.” I hated myself. 

Surprisingly, Jimin laughed.

“You sound pretty wary. If it makes you feel better, I’m actually a cop.” He winked.

I felt my eyes go wide. 

He shrugged. 

“Well technically off duty. I’m originally a part of the force in Busan. I got injured about three weeks ago during a bank heist and they have me on paid leave.” He grabbed the the edge of his pocket, pulling it down a bit to show a shiny brass badge with a familiar crest. 

I could only gape.

“I’m so sorry...Are you alright?” I said glancing at him in confusion. He didn’t look injured in any way. He grinned and shrugged.

“it was mostly a flesh wound but it was a very close shave. Unfortunately, my father happens to be my commanding officer and my mother bullied him into getting me off field duty.” 

I smiled.

“They must love you very much.” I said and he shrugged.

“In their own stilted way, yes. But enough about me. Tell me more about yourself. You seem like a small town girl at heart. What are you doing here in the big bad city?” 

I turned back to the car , which the valet had brought over in front of us. I let Jimin open the door for me, waiting till he’d settled in next to me, before replying. 

“I can admit that it wasn’t my smartest move. things have been hard out here but I think i really needed to get out of my hometown. There was... well, things were happening there that I didn’t want to be a part of and it was hard for me to...”

I trailed off, feeling foolish. He had meant the question, probably as playful banter. And here I was, unleashing a vaguely worded sob story. 

Jimin didn’t push , merely humming thoughtfully. 

“I’m assuming there’s no boyfriend in the picture right now.” He said casually and I grimaced. 

“Been a long time since I’ve been asked out. Close to a year almost.  “ I shrugged. “ I had a bunch of blind dates when i first came here and even in Busan. But most of them didn’t call back. “

“In Busan? “ he sounded curious. 

I nodded.

“it was surprising. There’s one that I’m still bitter over. It was over two year ago. I really liked the guy too, He was an exchange student . I thought we had something special and just , out of nowhere he sends me a text saying that he’s tired of waiting for me to... sleep with him and he just breaks up with me over text. i never heard from him. His name was...Malin something? I don’t recall. ”

“Malin Maurer? From Thailand? ” Jimin said suddenly, sitting up straighter, eyes narrowed. 

I stared at him.

“Uh..yes?” i said nervously. 

Jimin frowned for a second before blinking thoughtfully.

“Hmm...”

“What’s wrong?” i said nervous.

“Nothing.... I maybe wrong, but I think I covered a missing person’s report with that name.... About two years ago, i think?”

I stared.

“Missing persons?”

He grinned then, shaking his head.

“i’m sure it’s nothing serious. Tell me more about yourself.” 

I felt a bit of disquiet but pushed it to the back of my mind.

“Well, there’s nothing much to say. None of my romantic prospects stuck around and I got busy with the magazine , so i just pushed it to the back burner, I guess.” 

He smiled. The car was beginning to slow down.

“Fair enough.  Looks like we’re here?” 

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

Kira Hirakuma , for all her glamour on screen was almost disappointingly plain in real life. I was a little jarred by the contrast, having been prepared for someone out of a fairy tale. 

She wore a burgundy suit , her thick black hair pulled into a no-nonsense pony, face devoid of make up and eyes looking just a little too miserable.  

She gave me a weak, almost tired smile.

“Hi, Nara. Jungkook told me all about you.” She said, voice scratchy. 

I glanced over her shoulders, over to the side , where Jimin and Jungkook stood talking . He kept glancing back at me and there was an air of urgency in the room that made me skittish. 

“What’s uh... Are you alright?” I blurted out, before I could stop myself. She looked awful. 

She smiled again, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. 

“We’ve been ...traveling a lot. it’s been taking a toll.” She glanced back at Jungkook and he gave her an even stare. When she turned back to look at me, her eyes looked blank. 

“My make up team is not yet here, but we could still start the interview..” She said, pointing at the couch in the side of the room and I nodded, following her over.

“The wedding planner is running late as well. We were hoping to finalize the dress today.” Kira said nervously and there it was , the same nervous little glance. 

Outside, the rain was steady and thunderous. The air was damp and gloomy and i felt like I was underwater, struggling to breathe as a heavy mantle of misery settled over me. Her sadness was contagious. 

I’d never believed in ghosts but the only way to describe the feeling was..... haunted. 

“You look exhausted. are you sure you’re up for this?” i said gently and she gave me a bitter look.

“Do you want him back?” She croaked out.

 I recoiled, stunned.

Of all the things I’d expected her to say, this was definitely on the bottom of the list. 

“I- What ?” I choked out. 

“If you do, you can have him.” She breathed out, “ I can’t....it’s too much... “ Her eyes shifted, looking wild, hunted. 

And then something like anger flooded them, the irises almost flashing red. “And it’s your fault, you know.” She hissed at me. “ All of it’s your fault. You should be the one paying for it.....not me....” She spat out, eyes flashing. 

I could only stare in stunned astonishment. 

Had i fallen into some wormhole? What was happening? What was she even talking about? 

 I opened my mouth to respond but nothing would come out. And then a shadow fell over us, and she pulled away sharply, eyes wide and face blank again.  

“Nara..... “ Jungkook’s voice said behind me, soft and even toned. 

I was still staring at Kira, but her face betrayed none of the agitation from a few minutes ago. 

“Good to see you again. Let’s get started shall we?” He said , staring right at me and I swallowed. i glanced over his shoulders, my eyes meeting Jimin’s . He gave me a cheerful wave before turning back to whoever he was talking to. 

Jungkook cleared his throat and I turned to look at him.

He raised an eyebrow and I realized that he’d asked me something. My throat was dry as a desert. 

“Oh..uh..Sure. Let’s start.” i managed a weak smile, glancing at Kira who was staring at her knees. 

What else could i say?

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

AUTHOR’S NOTE” I promised myself i wouldn’t turn this into a cliche so ....here goes... :D 

[alitheamateur]

The Grind- Chapter 16

Warnings: Language.

We parted ways in the café parking lot, only for a brief hour or so, giving me just enough time to swing by my building to swap into the proper apparel, and shove some small essentials into a ratty gym bag from high school.  I was whispering regretful murmurs to myself as I pulled into the lot of Temple Fitness.  I draped the bag over my shoulder, water bottle in hand, and hesitated towards the main entry. It was a newer structure, but it’s reputation of cleanliness, a well-stocked weight room, and a staff equipped to provide nearly any fitness services on the market had flourished by word of mouth throughout the tristate. The atmosphere of this establishment leaned way more pristine than the damp, mildewed basement ambiance at Mac’s place. Skylights haloed the front lobby with welcomed July sunlight, and I heard the whine of a juice machine in the corner where I turned to discover a small juice bar. Teal round arm sofas lined walls down each side, and what I would assume were artificial potted plants were carefully arranged about. Clearly, this place had a woman’s touch.  

“Hey Elliott, you showed,” I heard the familiar voice of the very person who had suckered me into this plan. “C’mon, I wanna introduce you to a few people.” 

She motioned me to follow, and we marched down a narrow, quiet hall that eventually opened up revealing what seemed to be a training room of some sort in the back of the building. There were a couple guys going through the motions of what my very amateur opinion would’ve gathered to be Muay Thai, or perhaps Jui Jitsu? I was clueless in that moment, but something told me by the time Tia and her crew were done with me, I’d be able to effortlessly distinguish the difference between the two, along with most likely being able to demonstrate them as well. I was lagging behind Tia’s strides trying to get a handle on all the yoga studios, and the saunas cutting the halls, as she greeted a woman, and two men she was waiting to introduce me to.

“Ok, so Austin, Cal, Willow, meet Liv,” she pointed down the line naming out the strangers. “Liv, meet my team.”

“Nice to meet you all,” I indirectly smiled, making friendly eye contact with each individual set of eyes, and wiping my clammy palms over the slick spandex of my joggers.

“I gave them a little play-by-play on our chat from lunch LC, and we decided it’d be best to stick you with Cal here first for a while. A while will be determined by how long you think you’re gonna stick this out, ya’ wuss. He’s my personal trainer. He’ll be essentially laying the ground work here to see what you’re made of. Doing some basic cardio, and weights, oh, and gettin’ a meal plan in place for you, too.” Tia’s laugh turned dark at her ending remarks, and mockingly menacing. She knew what a hopeless, dedicated foodie at heart I truly was, and that I wouldn’t take kindly to someone limiting my calorie and carb intake all the live long day. “How much do you weigh, anyhow?”

She didn’t waste any time, ay?

“Um, I don’t really know like, exactly. Around 130, I guess? And 5’3”.” I spoke back to the peanut gallery hanging on my every word.

“Okay, okay. So that’ll put her at bantamweight, I think. Right, Cal?” The sculped man towered over me by nearly a whole foot, dressed in black from dri-fit shirt to sneakers.

“That’s right. We’ll start there at least, then I’ll leave the final decision to you and Willow once you guys see what she can do in the ring. Liv, you feel comfortable with cutting some weight if need be?” Cal rubbed his palms flat together. These guys weren’t playing pretend with all this, it was clear. But, I elected if I was going to step into this world, I might as well commit fully, and skip the lazy dabbling. “You guys are the experts, I’m just the silly girl behind the computer.” I saluted them lightheartedly.

…….

The first two weeks I spent under the watchful eyes of Tia and her three ruthless minions wasn’t a walk in the park by any means, but I made it through with only two bouts of splintering muscle cramps, and one upchuck all over the crisp white tile floor of the weight room. My past in athletics familiarized me closely with cardio, so the 3 miles a day on the treadmill, along with 30 added minutes on the stair climber hadn’t killed me. Definitely wounded, and maybe caused me to develop asthma, but hadn’t killed me. My visits to the weight room however might as well have been sure fire, mortal combat. Cal had precisely mapped out a specific regime to suit me, and scheduled each day to target a specific area. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays were upper body strength, leaving us to work on muscles such as bicpes and traps, and some brutal core exercises as well. Wednesday and Friday, had very abruptly became the very most dreaded days of my always demanding week. Legs. Cal seemed to get particular delight in leg day. He and Tia would watch idly by and smile like Cheshire cats as I grunted, and sobbed my way through 3 sets of one-leg barbell squats, and 4 sets of lying leg curls.

“You’ll thank us when you’ve got a fine ass man pinned between those legs of steel, Liv.” Tia piped and cheered alongside Cal as he coached me through the punishing onslaught.

As much as I wanted to break both of their smiling jaws for dropping the bombs of leg day, I was very much mastering the 4,000 calories a day he’d laid out as my goal to keep building my muscle mass. It may not have been the ideal menu, but eating was one step in this whole process I felt I wouldn’t falter. I carried what felt like pounds of almonds in my purse to work daily, snacking them with the power bites I discovered online of peanut butter and oatmeal. I should’ve bought hefty amounts of stock in chicken farms considering the quantity of eggs I cooked for myself. Scrambled. Poached. Tia even pressured me into downing a raw one if I needed a quick intake.

My new team of the 3 amigos decided to settle with a game plan of at least a month of basic training with Cal before I was passed on Willow and her Muay Thia, and fight training. During the given time that had passed the first few sessions, I began to notice miniscule results as I dressed in front of my floor length mirror. Only a slight thigh definition, and a barely there tightening of fabric through the spans of my blouses over my biceps. I was happily surprised in the progress I was making in adventuring this previous unexplored territory. In the short days spent in shadowing Tia, the respect and admiration I already had for her, flourished immensely. And although I was losing sleep due to the nerves that had commenced in thinking about actually stepping into a sparring session possibly sometime sooner than later, was also a growing thrill in the thought as well. I contemplated what the danger, and power, and adrenaline, and ferociousness would feel like swimming through my own veins, and it caused carnal arousal to flicker to the center of my belly. I understood now the orgasmic energy of command that Tia and Colton must feel when they step toe-to-toe with an opponent.  The fuming high fell quickly at the thought of him. What would he think of me now? I blushed a little, and surging tears burned into my eyes wishing Colton was walking this quest at my side.

 It was day one of expedition with Willow and Tia on the mat. I made sure to fall into bed at a decent hour the Friday night before. We determined the Saturday day before a Monday holiday was the most appropriate day to dive into the more rigorous aspect of my training, in case I took a face to the mat, or hyperextended some sort of body part from incorrectly executing a kick to the punching bag. The long weekend would give me time to recover if necessary, and soak in lots of Epsom salt and ice baths, as Tia said I would definitely be needing it, along with making a trip to the market to hunt down some Turmeric, a natural inflammatory she suggested. I had taken a shopping trip earlier in the week only in search of some seemly attire for the kickboxing I gathered I’d be learning, and that particular morning I pulled on a thin gray spandex short, and tossed a lightweight zip up over my elastic sports bra. Chocolate almond milk protein shake in hand, I headed in pursuit of the Temple. It was barely 6 a.m., and traffic on the commute was next to none at this weekend hour, so the drive was soft and refreshing. The brown-noser in me, I arrived a little over half hour early, just minutes before Tia turned into the spot beside me. I gathered my necessities to head inside with her to the torture chamber, but halted opening my door when Tia jumped enthusiastically through my passenger side.

“Morning, you. Ready for this?” she sighed with a toothy grin.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure,” I cocked a look of genuine contemplation toward Tia. “But, I think I am. I mean, I’m excited, but I feel like a could hurl up those two raw eggs I smashed down this morning.”

“You’ll probably do that anyway before the day is done, my dear.” Swarms of busy butterflies flapped inside my nervous, roaring belly at her harsh truth.

“God, I saw Colt project some barely digested broccoli right in the face of his partner during an intense sparring session the before his championship match. I’ve hated the color green ever since.”

I reminisced aloud to my friend next to me swiping through her phone. She turned her attention to me at the mention of my missing other half.

“You heard from him lately? I mean, does he try to reach out to you?” she pried, more with concern than displeasure this.

“Nope, haven’t seen him since the conference that night. He doesn’t have any cards coming up though. News usually travels fast around the city when he’s got a fight. Why? I mean, is there something I shoud’ve heard?”

My peculiar, shaky tone didn’t go unnoticed by Tia, I’m sure. Did something happen? What had she heard, and why I hadn’t I heard it too?

“No. Not really, I guess. Cal…uh, he just mentioned that he ran into him at some bar last weekend. They apparently went to high school together, strangely enough.”

Then, she just, stopped. Didn’t make another peep, just peered blankly out the window, watching the parking spots fill up as the city woke up.

“Oh, gotcha. Well, did he say anything else? Like, did Cal talk to him? Was he alone, or…?” I was waiting timidly for my lecture, like a child who’d just said a curse word to their mother.

“He was with his trainer, and a couple other guys, Livvy. And yes, Cal said they talked briefly……” The look in Tia’s eye gave away that she had more to say, but she was stifling it with much reserve.“I don’t know that I should spill the rest though.” She chewed her lip.

“Oh no you don’t, ma’am! There’s no way you can’t finish what you started now. Go on.”

“I just, I don’t want you to get sucked in, Liv. You’ve seemed so clearheaded the last month. Happy, ya’ know? I don’t want you to get all heavy, and emotional again. You’ve worked hard to get things pretty close to normal.” She was fidgeting. The snarky, loud, poignant spitfire I knew, was brutally stammering on her words.

“Wait a minute, Tia. It wasn’t long ago that you told me, if I’m recalling right, that it was okay for me to love him still. You said that. Your words.” My rebuttal instantly sounded thornier than I had intended once I unleashed my tongue, but it was too late to pull it back in now, so I waited for her comeback.

Tia nearly snapped her head right off her shoulders when she threw her daggering eyes at me. “You’re right. And I meant that, but it doesn’t mean I want you running right back to him either, LC. He’s fucked up. That’s not news to you, or anyone else. He may have treated you like a queen in the beginning, but the way he dropped you, Liv? Damn it, you didn’t deserve that! I just don’t want it to happen again, okay?” Her angry, heeding eyes were visibly softening as she trailed on, the anxious hands that were nearly rubbing the hide right off her sculpted arms, had now slowed. “And I’m afraid once you hear all the shit he was talking to Cal about, you’ll peel outta this parking lot on two wheels to find him…” What could he have possibly said to my now trainer. I firmly settled on the fact that Colt must’ve been incredibly tanked for him to go spilling his feelings to some other dude in a bar. It was the only logic behind the scenario. He wasn’t the man always in touch with his feelings, and he certainly wasn’t the man to let outsiders be involved in his feelings. Unless his feeling being that he was seething, fuming and wanted to smash your orbital bone, he’d let you know that emotion one way or another. Rage and darkness were two emotions he was well acquainted with.

“Please, Tia. For the sake of my sanity, just tell me.” I took a much more pleading, and soft approach with her this time, partially because I felt shitty for being so short with her a moment ago, and partially because I knew she’d cave in.

“Cal just asked how he’d been since they hadn’t crossed paths in a while, then Colton dug into him about how he’d lost to Mendez, but he was keeping the ring hot with all the fights he’d had scheduled, the usual fighter talk, I guess. But apparently the small talk led to him asking Colt if he was with anyone, had kids, how his parents were doing, things like that…”

Okay, T, let’s get to the gist here.

“Cal said he went on for about 10 minutes, spilling about a girl he had fucked over, and he hadn’t been right ever since the whole thing went down. Said he scared the only good thing he ever had away, but she was probably better off. Something about him being too twisted, and mad all the time, and had too many issues to ever truly give any woman what she needed.”

Tia hadn’t looked at me until that second. She finished the details of what she knew, and now waited reluctantly to gauge my reaction. I could almost hear the prayers silently passing through her mind, hoping what she said hadn’t just sent me spiraling back into Colton Ritter’s black magic trance. I situated in the seat to face her, and nudged playfully at her left arm, I wanted to tell her that truth about how I felt hearing the news, and I intended to do exactly that. For the most part, at least.

“I mean, yeah, that tugs at my heart strings for sure. I wouldn’t be human if I said it wasn’t a relief to hear that the first man I ever loved, regrets stomping on my open heart then practically spitting on it. Yeah, it’s good to know he has the balls to finally say out loud what I knew was true all along. He did love me, and it scared the coward shit out of him. He let his emotions from the loss cloud his better judgment, and yours truly just happened to be the weakest link in the chain for him to place that anger on.”

I was muffling the cries I so, so desperately wanted to express, but I was finished, bound and determined to never shed another ounce of salty pain over him.

“BUT, he said those things to the wrong person, T. Where’s MY explanation? My closure? Colton Ritter is going to have to do a lot better than professing his apologies in regards to me, to some dude in a bar, babe. There’s a lot of love for him in here for that foolish asshole.” I stroked open palmed over my thrashing, unsteady heart, “but it’s been smothered and stoned with a harsh hatred. Hate that I don’t know will ever go away. And as long as I’m holding any hate for him, no amount of love can overtake that. And I won’t be with a man who I hold all this resentment toward.”

Tia seemed a bit cautious at my words, hasty to believe honestly what I had admitted to her, but her clouding anger seemed to have subsided.  

“Alright, alright. I’m gonna take your word for it. Only because I love you. And, as a matter of fact, I love you soooo much, that I’m ready to go inside and rip you to shreds in the ring with Willow. Hope you are your Wheaties this morning, Elliott. I’ve got 911 on speed dial for ya’.”

Tia exited the car as quickly, heading inside without so much as a glance back to me. I sat in the silence alone for a moment with the white noise. A smile had snuck like a thief in the night across my quivering lips. I’d never say it to Tia, or Sara, or anyone for that matter, but hearing then and there, receiving the needed conformation that Colton was still with me, heartstrings still intertwined with mine in a steadfast Fisherman’s Knot, made my body temperature rise with hope of what may come. But, the itching question of forgiveness was one that just wouldn’t go away.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

[phoenixfics]

Forgive Me My Weakness

Posted for @dabihawks-week day 1, prompt: touch

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Also on ao3

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Dabi was lounging on the top of a tall stack of shipping containers when Hawks arrived at the riverside warehouse just after sunset. Hawks saw him jerk upright at the sound of his approach, then relax back into a lazy slouch once he recognized who it was. Several months had passed since the two of them started their arrangement, and they were no longer as tense in each other’s company as they had been at the start. That idea should have unsettled Hawks - the idea of becoming comfortable in a villain’s presence. Instead, he was relieved that he no longer had to be constantly on guard around Dabi. It had been exhausting, constantly second guessing every word out of each other's mouths and always looking over his shoulder. Now he was unsettled because he wasn’t unsettled. What had happened to that burning hatred? Where had it gone, and why did he feel guilty about its absence?  

“You’re late!” the villain shouted down as Hawks stepped closer.

“Nice to see you too, bastard,” Hawks called out. He craned his neck to look up at Dabi. “Are you coming down or are you going to make me climb up there?”

Dabi shrugged, exaggerated so that Hawks could see if from the ground. Hawks took it to mean “do whatever you want, but I’m not moving.”

Hawks sighed before scrambling his way up the shipping containers.

“Did you forget you have wings, birdbrain?” Dabi asked when Hawks made it to the top. He was only slightly out of breath, his left knee twinging where he banged it on a sharp corner halfway up the stack.

“Took down a purse snatcher with a slime quirk this afternoon,” Hawks said, pointing to his wings. They were coated in a sticky substance that looked and felt a lot like glue. Dabi snorted and Hawks resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out at him. He knew he looked like a mess. Like some kid’s craft project, with feathers sticking out at weird angles and an excess of glue. All he needed was some glitter to complete the look, although glitter was just as hard to remove as this slime proved to be. It was thick and gooey and made it so that Hawks couldn’t just detach his feathers, since the slime stuck everything together. He had to scrape it off each individual feather, and it was annoying and painful if he tried to do it too fast. Hawks hadn’t managed to get all of the slime out when he remembered he was supposed to meet with Dabi. And of course the glue made it nearly impossible to fly, so Hawks had to walk the entire way, which didn’t help his tardiness.  

As Dabi and Hawks traded information like two kids trading cards or lunchtime gossip, Hawks fiddled with his wings, peeling the slime off as carefully as he could. By the time they finished Hawks had a pile of goo sitting next to him and was trying and failing to reach for the feathers nearest his back. They were always the hardest to reach even without the slime making it difficult to maneuver his wings.

Hawks could tell Dabi was struggling to keep a straight face and he felt heat rise in his cheeks. He probably looked ridiculous, but he really didn’t want to walk all the way back to his apartment. He was tired and it had been a long day and he didn’t like having too much time to think. Flying cleared his mind like nothing else did. The roar of wind in his ears, the overwhelming sight of the city from above - flying kept him sane. Kept him from overthinking. Walking, on the other hand, gave him time to think about how far he had fallen. Gave him time to think about why it had been months and he was content to just keep meeting with Dabi. He was supposed to be infiltrating the league. Taking it down from the inside. He hadn’t made progress towards that goal in weeks. Instead, he and Dabi danced around the topic of his inevitable meeting with Shigaraki and he reported back to the Commission that he was still gaining Dabi’s trust. It felt more like a lie each time.  

“Well, if we’re done here...” Dabi said and made to stand up.

“Wait,” Hawks’s mouth said. Fuck , his brain added. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, but he was getting desperate. Dabi cocked an eyebrow, but sat back down.

Hawks bit his lip. “Can you…” He trailed off, unable to find it in himself to say the last word. He gestured vaguely at his wings.

“Help?” Dabi supplied.

Hawks felt resignation slide over him. How far he had fallen indeed. Asking a villain for help. He was an idiot. Of course Dabi wouldn’t help. He was a villain. Villains didn’t help heroes.  

Dabi laughed. “I was wondering when your pride would give out,” he said.

But he didn’t stand up. He didn’t leave. He scooched closer to Hawks and gestured for him to turn. Hawks turned his shoulder so that Dabi could better access the last few dozen feathers that Hawks couldn’t reach on his own. Dabi’s face was a blank mask as he reached towards Hawks’ wing, and Hawks attempted to mirror the expression instead of letting his distaste show. It was one thing to talk civilly with a villain. It was another to let him so close, to let him touch his wings. Hawks’ heart fluttered in his chest as Dabi’s fingers brushed his wings. He didn’t often left people close enough to touch his wings in a non-saving capacity. It felt like someone running their fingers through his hair: intimate and pleasurable. A shiver went down his spine. It was almost easy to forget that Dabi was a murderer. Too easy. This was stupid. He should have just sucked it up and walked home. Whatever he was getting out of this wasn't worth the risk. It was possible that Hawks wasn't reading Dabi correctly. If he made any missteps...

“They’re softer than I expected,” Dabi said, sounding faintly surprised by the fact. Hawks turned his head. For a second, Dabi’s expression was soft. Then he locked eyes with Hawks and the impassive mask was back, so fast that for a second Hawks thought he had hallucinated the soft expression on Dabi’s face. Hallucination would have made more sense than anything Hawks’s mind could provide to explain the look. He was growing more uncomfortable by the second. It was looking like he was right about his assumptions, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

“Just get started, will you?” he said, frustration leaking into his voice. “I want to get home before midnight.”

“Impatient little bird, aren’t you?” Dabi commented.

Hawks narrowed his eyes and Dabi smirked but got to work. He was surprisingly gentle, careful not to tug too hard at the feathers and making his way methodically from feather to feather. He worked in a single-minded silence, and Hawks found himself lulled nearly to sleep at the rhythmic motions of Dabi’s fingers as they carefully cleaned off his feathers. The pile of slime grew. Dabi was nearing the end, now.

“Who knew you could be so gentle?” Hawks asked, half joking, half out of real amazement. Dabi had been hard edges since the day they met. Who knew he was capable of something softer? Hawks felt a sharp tug on the feather Dabi had been working on and yelped in pain. “Asshole!”  He jerked his head around. “What was that for?”

Dabi gave Hawks an apologetic smile. “Oops, my hand slipped.”

Hawks narrowed his eyes. Dabi ignored his disbelief and continued pulling slime out of his feathers.

“I’m done,” Dabi announced a few minutes later.

Hawks turned around. “Thank you,” he said, sincerely. Dabi looked a bit flustered and Hawks smiled to himself. This close to Dabi, he was able to get a good look at the man’s scars. He wondered, not for the first time, how he had received them. Sometimes, he thought he must have done it to himself on purpose, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why someone would go through so much pain just to disfigure themselves. He wondered what the scars felt like.

The next thing he knew he was running his fingers down Dabi’s arm. Dabi flinched and Hawks immediately jerked his hand away.

“Does it hurt?”

Dabi was breathing heavily. “No.”

If it didn’t hurt, then that meant he had flinched just from contact with Hawks. Was it because it was Hawks or because Dabi was unused to touch? Hawks decided to follow his compulsion to touch Dabi again. If the man jerked away again, Hawks would stop, but he wanted to know why he had reacted the way he did. It was useful information. Hawks stretched his hand out, questioning.

“It’s only fair,” he said. “After all, I let you touch my wings.”

Dabi looked at his hand like it was going to bite but didn’t move. Hawks sighed in relief. He trailed his fingers up and down Dabi’s arm. The scarred skin was dry and leathery under his touch.

“It’s softer than I expected,” he said.

Dabi snorted. “Are you a parrot now?”

Hawks felt his face heat up and forced himself to look at Dabi instead of away, as was his instinct. Dabi had a strange look on his face. His mask was cracking. Maybe it would be enough to let Hawks in.  

“Can you feel anything?” Hawks asked, still sliding his fingers up and down Dabi’s arms.

Dabi shook his head. “No.”

Hawks looked at him, amazed, unable to comprehend the sensation of not feeling. All Hawks ever did was feel. Feel the wind beneath his wings, feel feathers brushing against him, feel guilt and anger and joy. Did Dabi feel those emotions, or had they been lost alongside his skin? He skimmed his fingers down Dabi’s arm, down to the wrist, where Dabi’s pale skin was stapled to dark scars. Dabi tensed under him as his fingers got closer to the staples, which pulled his skin tight at the edges. Even if the nerves under his scars were fried, the ones on the rest of his body had to still work, right? The seams between his scarred and unscarred skin must be constantly in pain. Hawks ghosted his fingers over the staples, then to the tips of Dabi’s fingers. Dabi still hadn’t pulled away, and Hawks felt his confidence grow. He considered how far he wanted to push, and decided to go all the way.

“How did you get–”

Dabi pulled back suddenly, as if burned. “That’s it. I’m done.” He stood up and made his way to the edge of the shipping container.

Too far. Damnit.

As Dabi made his way down to the ground, Hawks wracked his brain, trying to figure out why he had thought asking someone like Dabi how he got his scars was a good idea. He had to salvage the situation, somehow. He couldn’t let Dabi leave angry; it would color the rest of their interactions. He wanted the soft Dabi back, the one that had touched him gently and let Hawks touch him in return. He should have gone slower, shouldn’t have leapt so far, should have taken his time. He was always too fast, always two steps ahead of everyone. Sometimes, he forgot that not everyone else thought in terms of the future. Some were stuck in the past.

Hawks stood up and stretched his wings. He was able to move them freely and without pain. Dabi had done a good and thorough job. Hawks glided off the tower of shipping containers and landed in front of Dabi, halting him in his tracks.

“Move,” Dabi growled.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Hawks said instead of moving.

“For once, you’re right. You shouldn’t have. Now move. Before I barbecue your pretty wings.”

Hawks stepped closer.

“I thought we were finally making good progress,” he said.

“Progress?” Dabi scoffed. “Towards what, exactly?”

“Towards an understanding. Towards trust.”

Another step. Hawks wasn’t lying; he did think they had made a huge leap that night. And he should have been happy about that. About getting Dabi to trust him. Instead, he felt sick and guilty at having upset him, and he wanted to make it right. He had an idea of how, but it was risky.

Dabi was within arm’s distance now. Hawks reached out his hand and brushed Dabi’s fingertips with his own.

“Can you feel this?” he asked softly.

Dabi didn’t respond but he didn’t move away as Hawks took one last step to close the distance between them. Dabi’s eyes were so blue. He’d never really noticed, because the scars always drew his attention away from them. Hawks blinked, refocusing. His gaze settled on Dabi's lips and the scars that gave him a permanent, grim smile.  

“How about this?” he asked before he reached up and pressed his lips gently to Dabi’s.

Dabi froze and Hawks hoped he hadn’t made a huge mistake. He had just jumped out of a frying pan and into a bonfire. He prayed that it wouldn’t burn him.

Finally, Dabi’s lips parted under his, and the villain leaned into the kiss. His lips were dry, so Hawks ran his tongue over them. Dabi made a small noise in his throat and Hawks suppressed a smirk. He wasn’t the best kisser, but he was willing to bet that Dabi didn’t spend his free time hooking up with people and therefore wouldn’t know the difference. Hawks brought his hands away from where they were still brushing against Dabi’s and ran them lightly up Dabi’s arms then around his back. About halfway up Dabi tensed, and Hawks knew that that was where the edge of his scars must be. He moved carefully over the area, then continued up until his hands were in Dabi’s hair. Dabi shivered at the touch and this time Hawks couldn’t help but smile through the kiss. He moved one hand down to the side of Dabi’s face, and felt the contrast between the cool metal of the staples and the warmth of Dabi's skin. Finally, Dabi broke the kiss.

“So?” Hawks said, slightly breathless.

“What?” Dabi snapped. He was getting defensive. His eyes darted in all directions. He was panicking. Hawks was walking a thin line at the moment.

“Did you feel that?”

Dabi looked at him like he was an idiot. Which was an improvement over looking like he was going to bolt any second. Hawks gave Dabi his cockiest smile. Dabi glared at him.

“You…really are a hero, aren’t you,” he said, sounding slightly disappointed. Hawks’s heart plummeted. Was this the moment Dabi finally gave up on him? Had he just failed? “Heroes,” Dabi continued, “do whatever they want because they don’t know the meaning of the word consequences. ”

Hawks scrunched up his face, trying to puzzle out what Dabi was trying to say. Should he not have kissed him? Well, that was a stupid question; ofcourse he shouldn’t have kissed him. He was a murderous villain and Hawks was a hero. Kissing him was dumb on more than one level. But it also hadn’t backfired spectacularly, which meant he must have done something right.

“Also,” Dabi snapped, “I’m not made of fucking glass . You’re not going to break me.”

The next thing Hawks knew, he was shoved roughly up against a nearby shipping container. Dabi’s mouth was on his, but this time he was taking the lead, which was fine with Hawks. He tried to let go of this racing thoughts, tried to give in entirely to the kiss, but a little voice in the back of his mind was screaming at him that he was a gigantic fucking idiot or a terrible person or some combination of the two. But that voice grew quieter and quieter as Dabi kissed him fiercely until it was just a whimper. Dabi had pinned one of Hawks’s hands to the cool metal of the shipping container. The other was exploring Hawks’s body, pushing Hawk’s jacket aside and roaming up his back. Dabi's hand felt hot against his skin. Hawks’s free hand tangled into Dabi’s hair, pulling his face towards his own.

When Hawks tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, he knew it was time to come up for air. He broke the kiss and put his free hand on Dabi’s chest, pushing him back. They were both panting heavily, though Dabi sounded more out of breath than Hawks did. Dabi’s eyes were wide and wild. A few trickles of blood were leaking out of the scars on Dabi’s face. Hawks felt sick to his stomach at the sight.

“I thought you said you weren’t breakable,” he murmured. He raised his hand to wipe the blood off Dabi’s face, but Dabi slapped his hand away and Hawks quickly added, “I’m sorry.”

He had lost his head. He shouldn’t have let it get so heated. He needed to be better.  

“You’re still thinking like a hero,” Dabi said angrily. “Empty words mean nothing to me.”

“They weren’t empty,” Hawks insisted.

Dabi blinked in surprise, then hardened his expression.

“Well,” he said, “I don’t want your damn apology anyway.”

“What do you want?” Hawks asked. He knew it was risky to keep pushing, but Dabi was in a vulnerable and emotional state. Hawks was too, but he was aware of it, at least. Was using it to push forward. He wasn’t sure Dabi was as self-aware. He was looking at Hawks with a slightly lost expression that implied that he had never been asked what he wanted before. It was entirely possible that he hadn’t, actually. The thought made him uncomfortable. He knew next to nothing about Dabi’s past. Everything he knew was pieced together fragments. Not enough for the whole story, but enough to know it wasn’t a happy one.

“I want…” Dabi hesitated, clearly trying to organize his thoughts. “I want you to come with me. To meet Shigaraki. I think it’s time.”

Hawks smiled, but it felt hollow. It felt like a lie.

[ourmrmel]

Mel Feller MPA, MHR Looks at Improving Any Business Leadership Team

Mel Feller MPA, MHR Looks at Improving Any Business Leadership Team

According to Mel Feller, an entrepreneur and business specialist and investor, leadership is a proven and tried method for rediscovering your excellence in business and life. As Mel Feller explains, some days, you are drowning in an ocean of business decisions. Others, you are looking at the desert and hoping for an oasis. Therefore, since you are creative, your leadership skills need both practice and learning. Here are several methods for leadership ideas to get the idea river overflowing To be a great and effective leader, you need to be very clear on your vision, and what actions you need to take to turn your vision into a reality.

Moreover, like an organization or a team, to be an effective leader, you need to focus on the few key areas that will have the highest impact on turning your vision and goals into a reality. Although this word is offensive to some, ultimately, we are talking about winning. In addition, as any good coach will tell you, to win, you need to be willing to learn and then practice what you learn. The more you are willing to learn and the harder you are willing to practice, the more successful you will become.

When you look at your company, you see leaders that can get things done and really motivate the people around them. Supervisors, forepersons, managers, and executives all have a major impact on your company. However, what if those leaders suddenly left? What happens when those stars go out? Do you have qualified employees that could fill the gap? Is your bench deep enough to play on and win the game? Have you prepared your top performers to be the leaders of tomorrow? One of the measures of healthy organizations is how comfortable they feel replacing key leadership positions with their own employees. Unfortunately, most of us only look at the people standing right in front of us, and when something happens we make a mad scramble to survive.

Leadership development should not be restricted to existing leaders. Having a healthy population of future leaders in the organization can be the biggest insurance for success.

You need to ask, “What about tomorrow?”

 You could fill the spot with a new hire, but the difference in cost between promoting leaders from within and trying to find an external candidate can be amazingly high and comes with  many hidden problems, especially in these tough economic times. At the same time, hiring someone from outside of the organization does have benefits. It can offer new ideas and new perspectives on old issues, and it creates a healthy influx of productive energy, but should that be your first option? Here are some drawbacks to making outside hiring your number one option:

  Recruiting Cost

 Finding a qualified, knowledgeable leader takes time and money. Recruiting, interviewing, and testing, even if done in house, comes at a high price. The cost of recruiting a new hire and training them can reach multiples of the employee’s annual salary.

Recruiting internally cuts down on the cost and shows your employees that you value their skills at least as well as those of outsiders.

A new candidate takes a number of weeks to learn the culture and work flow of a new organization. During that time, the individual is in a period of negative production.

If the person does not work out in the position, the cost of training and replacement can be as much as 3 times the annual salary of the position. By the time, employers learn that the employee might not work out, it’s past the probation period and damage is already done.  

 Cultural Adjustment

 All companies have a unique set of values, character, and culture. A new candidate comes from a completely different culture and may or may not fit into yours. Interviews and resumes will not show the adaptability of leaders, even if they come from the same line of business. A conflict of values can quickly become a drain on company resources and takes a long time to remedy. The result is most often a demoralized work group. So if hiring leaders externally is cost prohibitive, how do you get out of that cycle? What can you do to develop your most promising performers? You need to ask yourself, “Are there individuals internally that could do the same thing by being moved or promoted?”

If the answer is no, then you need to start developing. Now! The most effective way to create your leaders of the future is a professionally developed training plan; but

If you are not ready for that step and you need to make some moves quickly. Here are a few tips to start the process:

  Start a Mentoring Program

 Identify your top performers, identify your top leaders, and get them together. A once-a-week meeting to discuss what the leader does and how he or she is dealing with issues that arise can expose your employees to what being a leader means - and give them an incentive to apply it to their own positions. It will also encourage them to take the initiative for self-development.

Project Share

Let your top leaders identify some projects or portions of projects that they can delegate to your potential leaders. The idea is not only to develop the skills needed to complete the tasks, but it also gives them exposure to greater levels of responsibility and lets you evaluate their talents and skills.

  Keep People Moving

If it’s possible for you to shuffle people between departments, offer it. Give people the option to try a new area of the company. Not only will they be learning a new skill set, but also their understanding of the entire business will expand, which is a critical aspect of leadership. In the end, this will reduce your training cost for new leaders.

  Get to Know Your Employees

 Do you know what your employees’ professional aspirations are? Do you know what they really want to do for the company? Do you even know their capabilities? A simple questionnaire can offer you incredibly valuable information on their past experience, skills, and performance desires. Aside from helping you to identify who might be a future leader, it can also help remedy the problem of the right person in the wrong position.

  Build Your Own Library

 Invest in some personal development audio or video tapes, DVDs, books, or computer-based training tools. There are lots of titles and topics available. Offer these to your employees for check out. The real performers will take advantage of it. This is a cost effective way to train employees with minimal startup cost and no labor, as the training will take place on their own time.

You can also offer “Lunch Box Learning” and show one of the short programs during the lunch hour.  

These are just a few of the ways to motivate your top performers into becoming tomorrow’s leaders.

The benefit of having well developed leadership skills in your employees will far outweigh the cost of putting these programs in place.

If you do not develop your top performers, they will not be your top performers for long. Soon you will be stuck with a bench full of liabilities. The question you need to ask yourself is not, “What happens if I develop them and they leave?”

The question you need to ask is, “What happens if I don’t develop them and they stay?”

Leadership takes practice. Leadership is not something you practice once and become a master at. Nevertheless, how much practice does it take to become a great leader? Malcolm Gladwell, in his book Outliers, gives us the 10,000-hour rule. Based on Gladwell’s research of people who have reached an expert level so profound that others would describe them as great, it takes about 10,000 hours of studying and practicing the art or the task. That would be more than five years’ worth of full time work, with each hour dedicated to practicing leadership skills. Even the masters never stop practicing.

[shadowsong26fic]

Sup

It occurs to me that I keep forgetting to do Coming Attractions posts, whoops...will try to remember for August, but here’s an informal one while I’m thinking about it.

Behind the cut I talk Precipice, AU Outlines, and a few other miscellaneous projects I have potentially in the pipeline...

Next Precipice chapter--plan is this weekend at some point. More with Saw and Ahsoka and Rex and also there was a whole, y’know, bombing thing that happened on Coruscant, and certain interested parties probably have Opinions on the subject...

Not 100% sure how long this arc is going to be. I’m shooting for I think ten-twelve chapters? So not an uberlong one like Part 4 was.

After this, there will be the as-yet untitled Part 7, which will take place after a three-year timeskip. Among other fun plot points, Leia has a key milestone to meet...

Following Part 7, right now the game plan is to split off into a second fic/sequel, working title Protectors, the first arc of which will (probably) be called Escalation. There’s a couple reasons for this.

There’s a much longer timeskip in play here; six years.

If you’re counting my timeline, you can probably guess where that’ll take us and ergo reason 2.

Also, this fic is...like, super a whole lot longer than I ever thought it would be???? It would not surprise me if the rest of Reunion plus Part 7 brings me to 200k. I’m not going to specifically aim for that, necessarily, but. You know.

My original goal, back in January, was to be done with Arc 7 by the end of August. That’s...that’s pretty clearly not gonna happen at this point (updates have been much slower than planned, plus I’ll be travelling for a few weeks...) But I should be done by the end of the year, and then on to Protectors!

AU outlines--I have a couple in the pipeline.

Let’s Go Steal a Crossover background went up...heh, like two months ago whoops...I keep getting stuck on who to sic them on, though. Everyone I can think of is either too important or dead or both...

...honestly, part of me is just tempted to, rather than a full-on Outline, do a couple of brief vignettes/drabbles so I don’t have to pick that right away and I can get out some of the stuff I already have in mind. I.e., the two teams crashing into one another...IDK, thoughts?

The California Gold Rush/Mask of Zorro Fusion AU No One One Person Asked For. Because the only way to make the PT Trio Even MORE Extra(tm) is by making them straight-up masked vigilantes in 1840s California.

(This will, incidentally, end in an Anakin-centered vee.)

At some point I’ll probably update Ventress and Her Tiny Time-Travelling Conscience.

I feel a little weird calling this next bit One Shots, but...standalones! That’s the thing I’m looking for!

I’m going to do Big Bang again next year, and so I’m not scrambling to finish in the last week of April, I want to try and start ahead of time? Back when I was in SPN fandom, I did that for a couple BB projects and it worked out pretty well.

(Especially for The Promises of Angels, aka my 100k epic about a tertiary character who had, at the time, been dead for five seasons...I ended up writing that one over the course of like a full year.)

Anyway, I’m toying with a couple of different ideas. All of which I plan to write at some point, I just don’t know when...big bangs tend to be good for me, in terms of finishing projects that I would otherwise drag on and on and on...

(i.e., if I had done the sensible thing and waited to find a big bang for it, I probably would’ve finished Distaff ages ago, lol...)

At some point, whether for a challenge or something else, I plan to turn Bail Unfucks the Timeline into a proper fic.

I’ve also been toying with a Thing about Satine and Bo-Katan.

And there was a prompt that I considered for last year’s BB that I ended up rejecting because whodunits are not in my wheelhouse, but it involved poking at a timeline inconsistency and Sabe and Padme investigating a murder together shortly before ROTS.

Also trying to do some original writing over the next couple weeks, which may or may not show up here, we’ll see.

...that about sums it up, I think. Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Prompts? What’s on your minds?

[ba3aphoebeowen]

In Depth Concept Work

Taking advice from my research, I’ll need to work on the theme and plot of my animated short before any other production can begin. 

The short will be following Zoe as a child, in her messy house with her negligent mother. Zoe will have suffered multiple instances of child abuse, the main one in this short being neglect. Despite Zoe’s dire situation, she doesn’t give up on herself, unlike her mother, and gets herself some food and back into a place of safety. 

Don’t give up because it’s difficult. 

This will be part of Zoe’s character development that makes her untrusting of others, and eager to do things by herself - because she grew up this way. While she may not be the most empathetic of people, she will be fiercely stubborn in doing what she needs to do. 

This theme encompasses the concept nicely, and will help in focus for the project. 

Zoe’s goal in this short is simple - to get some food, otherwise she’ll starve. An obstacle is her mother and the difficulty of getting around when she’s so small, but this isn’t a conflict yet. Perhaps, on Zoe’s return to her bedroom, her mother gets up, and Zoe is pumped full of fear and adrenaline. She scurries to hide from her mother, and sneak around her to get back upstairs. 

Characters: Zoe and Zoe’s mother

Conflict: Zoe needs to eat some food, but her drunken mother is between her and the food. 

Location: A messy council house 

Zoe

[Referenced from page 77 of ‘Ideas for the animated short’]

Ethical Perspective: Golden Rule - “Do unto others as you as they have done to you”. Zoe is young and, due to her lack of good parenting, just goes with what she’s taught at school. If she’s picked on, she’ll pick on people right back. 

Logic or Emotion: Zoe is driven mostly by emotion, only using logic when she encounters a danger. In the face of conflict, she is driven by her emotion (running, hiding).

Greatest Strength: Despite her depressing situation, Zoe keeps herself cheerful and doesn’t give up on herself, or her mother. She demonstrates perseverance.

Greatest Flaw: She finds it difficult to manage her emotions, and will often have outbursts when her feelings get to big for her to handle. This is redeemable due to her circumstances.

How does she see herself: Zoe has been conditioned to think that she’s nothing and not worthy of love. She thinks she’s nothing but an annoyance, and does her best to not both people due to this. 

How is she seen by others: Adults on the outside marvel at Zoe’s tenacity, and pity her situation. Many want to help. 

What does she want: Zoe wants to be recognized and taken care of by adults, as she should be but hasn’t been. More immediately, she wants her basic needs to be taken care of and will act on them when it cannot be helped any longer. Because of her experiences, however, she believes all adults aren’t going to help. 

What does she need to learn: That there are people that are willing to help her, if she would go to them. 

Story and Structure

The short will start and end with Zoe in her bedroom. She’ll wake up in her bed to her stomach growling, after trying to “sleep the hunger” off, and she’ll realize she can’t put it off anymore and needs to eat. On the walls of her room we’ll see drawings she’s made, some of them being of a teacher from her school, as well as a written letter addressed to Zoe’s mother (the implication being that Zoe stopped her mother seeing this letter). 

She creeps into the hallway, and ducks back into her room at the sound of heavy footsteps. Through the crack in her door, she sees a mans legs walk past. He stops, leans down and waves (his body, like all the adults in the short, is formed of squiggles). She shrinks back in discomfort, closing the door until he leaves and she hears the front door close. She now comes out and heads downstairs. 

Her mother is passed out in the living room with the curtains drawn and the television playing static. She’s snoring, and Zoe quietly makes her way to the kitchen and closes the door. Once she’s sure it’ll be quiet enough, she skips over to the kitchen, looking for a box of cereal, which is finds is empty. She looks toward the higher cupboards, and grabs a chair to be able to reach - she’s careful of the sound of the chair being moved. 

She climbs onto the counter and grabs a can of pork and beans - her favourite. She gets a fork to pry open the can, and puts it into the microwave. She quickly corrects herself, taking the can out and pouring the contents into a bowl before heating it up. There’s a knock at the door, and Zoe scrambles over to the window to see a very official looking adult standing there (we see a uniform, but their face is still scribbled out). Zoe, in a rush, grabs her bowl and makes her way to the door, listening for her mother, who gets up to answer the front door. Zoe sneaks around her and scrambles up the stairs - the police officer at the door calls out to her but she keeps going. 

She closes her bedroom door and climbs into her den - some bed sheets she’s pierced through a nail in the wall. Here, she is at peace. 

It’s an ordinary day

Zoe is in bed, sleeping. 

Until something happens

Her stomach growls. 

Character wants something badly

She needs to get food from the kitchen. 

Meets with conflict

There’s a strange adult outside of her bedroom, so she needs him to leave first. 

Conflict intensifies 

Her mother could wake up at any moment, so she has to be quiet. There’s no cereal, so she finds some canned food. There’s a knock at the door. 

Makes a discovery, learns a lesson or makes a choice

Instead of talking to the authority figures at the door, Zoe runs back to her safe space with her food. 

in order to succeed

In the place she feels safest, Zoe eats her food.

It needs to be implied throughout the short that there are people that are wanting to help Zoe, but she’s actively avoiding them. She’ll know who a police officer is, but not go and talk to them after there were strangers in her house and she had to make her own food. She’ll have intercepted communications between her school and her mother. She wants things to stay the same, but they can’t. 

Premise: A little girl is hungry and needs to get some food. 

Theme: 

Don’t give up when things get difficult

Don’t be afraid to ask for help

So far, the short seems to have two themes that could work, but one needs to be focused on. At first, the “don’t give up” sentiment seemed to fit Zoe well as a character, but in the context of her being a child in need, it seems a bit inappropriate. While it is admirable how Zoe pushes through her adversity to look after herself, it’s not something she should ever have to do as a child her age. With more references to how she’s struggling by herself, I think “don’t be afraid to ask for help” could work well as a theme for the short. 

The short has a “compounding conflict”. The overall conflict is that there are adults that Zoe is trying to avoid - the strange man in her house, her mother, and then the police officer. Zoe will have physical, emotional and strategic responses to these conflicts, doing her best to avoid them and prevent an encounter with any kind of authority figure. 

The audience will learn about the situation that Zoe is in behind her, but be surprised with her when the police officer knocks. It will be a Slice of Life structure, where the audience follows Zoe through her daily routine, with a brief surprising factor. 

[curiousdelights]

A Little Bit of Fate [1/?]

Pairing: Yoosung Kim x CMC (Areum Lee)

Plot: An odd request for help brings Areum to an apartment where she meets a group of people through a messaging application, plunging herself to help them towards a charitable goal. She forms friendships within the group and soon rekindles a spark with a member who she hasn’t seen in almost a decade.

Background: Inspired by this. When I first played Mystic Messenger, Yoosung was my very first route and guess what? I actually chose the name Areum for my MC lololol. So when we got to this part of the chat (Idk, I think this was around Day 3 in Casual Story), I was surprised lmao but it gave me this idea that MC (Areum) and Yoosung could have been classmates before haha. So anyway, this fic will be multi-chaptered so good luck to me. It’s almost like a rewrite of Yoosung’s route, probably.

-

I. A little bit of spark

-

They say first love never dies.

A cliché statement, but a famous one nonetheless.

To some, the idea is a normal component of one’s life, ironically forgotten when more loves come around to replace it in later time. To another set of some, it is simply a silly sentence that’s overused in literary and film, and not something to ponder much about; just a fleeting flick of emotion. But of course, to yet another set of some, it is a nice thought: a pure and innocent thought and proof of one’s own heart beating for another for the first time in their lives.

Most of the time, first love exists during youth when the heart is at its most tender stage, when the idea of love is a mere bud on a stem, with emotions being the nurturing guide towards bloom.

Do you remember your first love?

-

Thursday afternoons always held art classes under one of the most carefree teachers Yoosung has ever had so far in elementary. He looked forward to it because it gave him a break from all the textbook reading and problem solving. However focused he could be in those subjects, art class was a welcome change in pace. He wasn’t all too good at it (he’d be lucky to draw what could at least look like a horse?) but he liked this time of day and he liked trying to draw the animations he watched on television with his friends.

Yet if his eleven-year-old heart would be much more honest, those were only little parts of the reason.

The biggest reason was because he could approach a certain young girl he fancied. Due to the freedom provided in this certain art class, all of them were quite free to wander around the classroom and mingle with their classmates, provided that you were still discussing the current project, not making any noise, and actually doing the assigned task to be submitted at the end of the period. So Yoosung takes this chance, albeit in careful portions.

He was a shy and sensitive kid, but he had an excuse to walk up to the aforementioned girl. She had a friend that was good with art. He could pretend to need help from that one but talk more with the other.

Today, they were tasked to draw sceneries with the use of pencils. Shading and outline were the focus. Yoosung was thankful they didn’t dabble with watercolors this time around. He hated watercolors. He thought they were messy under his fingers so he wondered how artists didn’t mind and still end up with masterpieces.

He may never really know.

Yoosung, along with his friend, Hyunsik, tabled with the group of girls. They had been doing this for about a week now and the former only hoped it didn’t seem all too weird, although it seems nobody minded anyway.

“Hi!” Yoosung greeted the group. There were three of them: Hana Kim, the artist he could actually learn from, Miyeon Park, the quiet one, and last but not the least…

“Hey, Areum!” Yoosung’s smile towards her was usually brighter compared to the others.

Areum Lee, the pretty one. When she smiled back at Yoosung, hiding the thin streak of blush on his cheeks would have been almost impossible. Her whole being, he thought, truly lived up to her name. He remembered she had longer hair in the first half of the year. She cut it short this time and always pulled it back with a red headband. It suited with her hair which was the color of sweet milk chocolate. How come she could still be pretty in any style? Yoosung saw others when they changed their appearance and sometimes he didn’t think it suited them.

That’s not the case with Areum.

“Heya, Yoosung! Time to draw again.” She laughed. God, how it hit Yoosung’s heart like a shooting star. “Got a scenery in mind now?”

Yoosung and Hyunsik took their respective seats beside the girls as they maneuvered their tables around to group together. The former made sure he could sit beside Areum and Hyunsik couldn’t manage to even hide the snicker that erupted from his throat. He knew about his friend’s crush but paid no mind. He knew he’d probably break down in embarrassment if Areum somehow found out.

Yoosung thought for a while, but drew a blank. “I… have no idea. I’m never really super prepared for art class.”

“I know, right? Hana probably doesn’t need to think so much about it compared to us!” She said, elbowing said best friend.

Hana stuck her tongue out at all of them. “It’s not my fault I like drawing.”

Areum winked. “We know! We’re just teasing.”

“Might as well start now. We only have about an hour left.” Hyunsik reminded them. He was already starting to outline his shapes. Yoosung thought it looked too round for a mountain but kept his mouth shut.

“Any thought now, Yoosung?” Areum asked, turning her attention towards the brunette and his blank sheet of paper.

He thought sitting beside her was already the nearest he could get, but she almost leaned towards him and he grew flustered.

“A-Ah, no—not yet!”

Areum huffed then turned back to her own desk. Then, as if the bulb in her head lit up, so did the expression on her face and she offered an idea to Yoosung. “Why don’t you draw a night sky with a lot of stars? It pretty much fits you and we can use colored pencils anyway!”

“Ooh, not bad!” It really wasn’t, but how come he didn’t even think of something that should have been obvious to himself? “How about you? What are you gonna draw, Areum?”

Her mouth formed a pout. He thought it was cute.

“I’m still at a loss but…” She tapped her pencil on her paper, then looked back again at Yoosung. “I think I’ll draw a beach. I went there last summer with my family. I thought it was pretty! What do you think?”

“That sounds good. I’m sure you can draw it well.”

“Yeah! It’d be nice to use a lot of yellows and oranges for it. I watched the sunset then.”

“I should do that next summer. It probably looks nicer at a beach, huh?”

Their discussion kept on going between the two of them until Miyeon had to speak up. “You guys do know that you could run out of time by talking about it so much, right?”

Yoosung and Areum looked at each other and then scrambled on to their work. Even if neither of them was good at art, their teacher put in a lot of grades for effort and that wasn’t to be overlooked.

“Ah, Areum, I forgot my eraser.” Yoosung said, not looking up. “Can I borrow yours?”

She nodded, busy with her own work. “Sure. It’s by the pencils.”

“Okay, let me just…” He reached over to the bunch of pencils blindly, patting his hands over the table while his focus was all on filling up the hillside drawing with a deep shade of green.

Areum was on her way to doing so as well, unsure if whether Yoosung knew where it was so she might as well get it herself for him. Her reflection of the orange sun on the sea seemed to be lacking, so she colored it more to bring out the vibrancy, digging her pencil a little harder than she did earlier.

With one similar action towards one small item, two hands met in the middle and startled the owners. Both Areum and Yoosung looked up, first to the source of the surprise, and then to each other. It was easy to see that Yoosung was the most flustered and Areum giggled more at his reaction.

She was the one who got the eraser first, so she put it in Yoosung’s palm. “Here you go!”

“T-Thanks!” To save himself from any more embarrassment, he took it gratefully and turned back to his work. All he wanted was to talk to her today, but it seemed fate was being more generous than usual.

He wasn’t complaining, though. No, not at all.

But he did grow slightly nervous.

After some time, most of them were done with their artworks. Hana and Miyeon had submitted theirs already, waiting for grading from their teacher. Hyunsik was finishing with the details. Yoosung still thought his mountain seemed too round, but who was he to judge? His hillside might as well be almost flat.

He was staring at his work now, wondering what was still lacking, when Areum popped up to speak again beside him.

“Looks good! I knew you could draw that.” Her eyes seemed to be beaming with delight, appreciating the better drawing from her classmate. “Are you gonna draw a person in it, too?”

Yoosung offered a confused face. “I don’t know. I thought we were only supposed to draw the scenery?”

She shrugged. “People can be a part of it. I think it’d look nice if you drew yourself there.”

“I think it’s lame if it’s me. I should… draw someone else to make it better.” Yoosung laughed it off lightly as he started to take a brown shade of pencil to start.

“Oh? Who’re you gonna draw?” Areum watched as Yoosung continued to sketch, then realized there was no need to ask. The red headband and brown hair was a big giveaway already, and even she felt a warmness rise up to her cheeks.

To be fair, she went back to her own drawing and smiled at the idea. It was playful and fun and harmless. She took up the same shade of pencils Yoosung had used and drew a person on her own beach. Once done, Areum stood up and admired her work. It seemed Yoosung was also done with his and ready to have it graded.

“Yoosung, look.” Areum brought up her paper, a yellow-orange dominant version of a sunset on a beachside. A small, brown-haired boy sat on the sand. “Fair enough, right?”

He was surprised. His face clearly showed it to her. “You drew me.”

“Yeah.” Her grin towards him was laced with appreciation. “Thanks for drawing me in yours, Yoosung. I really like it. Come on. Let’s get these graded. We’re the last ones to finish.”

He ended up following her to where their teacher was, but he couldn’t help but feel flustered at what just happened. It was a silly sort of exchange, but Yoosung found it to be more than enough. As far as he was concerned, his day was more than complete.

They were fortunate to be able to pass it on time and still get a good grade once the artworks were handed back. As soon as art class ended, everyone started preparing for the next one. Was it Korean history already? The day was going to end soon. Yoosung had to part ways with the girls to go back to his seat in the classroom. He sat quite some distance away from Areum so talking to her during class was never really an option available to him. His extracurricular activities also prohibited him most of the time to hang out during the afternoons.

But tomorrow was Friday and he was free then. Maybe he could ask her to hang out then. He could wait until tomorrow to ask, just so he can gather up some extra courage to do so. Besides, it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t see her at school again, right?

… Right?

-

“Didn’t you hear?” Hyunsik asked, his tone expressing surprise peppered with a tinge of concern. “Areum moved.”

Yoosung frowned. He had barely even arrived at school that next morning and that was the first thing he’d hear. “What?”

“Miyeon told me.”

“But we just had class with her yesterday.” He said, glancing over at what was once Areum’s seat. He thought she was just oddly late today or that she wasn’t feeling well. But moving away?

It made him sad.

Yoosung walked over towards where Hana and Miyeon sat, hoping to hear something about it all. Hyunsik followed him.

“Areum left?” Yoosung asked.

Hana looked up at her classmate and nodded slowly. “Her dad’s work thing made them move. We already knew about it a couple of weeks ago.”

“Where?”

Miyeon shook her head. “We’re not really sure. Areum didn’t say much about it.”

“I see. Too bad we couldn’t hang out much.”

Hana agreed. “I know. Yesterday, you two seemed to get along pretty well.”

“She’s always been nice.” Yoosung shook his head once and bid the girls goodbye. “Thanks for telling me. Hope she’s well.”

It would be a clear lie to say he wasn’t upset about Areum’s leaving, but he never got close to her much to expect her to say something about it to him. At least he had yesterday to remember by.

Yoosung sighed.

He really did like her.

He went back to his seat and started fiddling with the contents of his bag, ready to pull out a pen and pad to distract his mind. That was when he saw a small object chucked inside the corner of his pencil case.

A rubber eraser.

He chuckled.

That was Areum’s. Did he forget to return it?

Maybe he did, and he decided to keep it as a small token of knowing her.

With little contact they shared prior to this, it seemed impossible to see her again.

-

Do you remember your first love?

-

…

..

.

[ Areum has entered the chatroom. ]

-

Aaaand there we go! I really wanted to post this now since it was eating at me and I felt like I should try to move onto the next part soon or else I’ll lose my ideas. 💕

So this was like a background for everything else. I forgot how 11-year-old kids work?? But I remember we can have really big crushes on others by then lol sorry. I knew someone who ended up with his first love since elementary haha.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. Please tell me what you think! 💕

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