#and i look over at my bank account and i am just barely above water. i can afford food or nice meals or little necessities

[bloodystray]

feeling normal

[dindjarins04]

CHAPTER THREE

I AM NO JEDI MASTERLIST

Still curled up on the small chair in Padme's living area, Anakin paces back and forth. He sighs and stops in the middle of the room while you calmly respond to the onslaught of Qui-Gon's messages.

"It's too quiet,"

"That's a good thing," You reply. "I'd rather not have to deal with blasters," You look and see him looking down at you. "Perhaps if you sat down, you wouldn't be so anxious,"

"Can you at least pay some attention to me rather than your holopad?" He asks with a huff. You roll your eyes and place it down.

"You're such a child,"

"Maybe I just need a distraction,"

"Oh and I'm the perfect fit for your distraction?" You tease as he sits down in the chair opposite you.

"Yes," He says. "So...why do you think we weren't allowed to see each other for 10 years?"

"Well, those 10 years were the most vital part of our training, maybe we were just too busy with training to make friends," You shrug as you stand to pour yourself a glass of water. Anakin stays silent as he thinks of different reasons for the Jedi keeping you separate. "Enough about us...what's your story with Padme?" You cringe at yourself. Smooth, (Y/N), that was real smooth.

"We met on Tatooine, I saved her planet and that's it," You quirk a brow and turn around, leaning against the table you got your water from.

"Really? I thought you two had something more, considering the way you talk to her," You say, sipping your water.

"Heh, jealous?" You choke on the water at the question.

"That's absurd," Anakin chuckles and shakes his head.

"Whatever you say, princess,"

"Quiet, mudscuffer," Then, Obi-Wan strolls in.

"Captain Typho has more than enough men downstairs. No assassin will try that way. Any activity up here?" He asks as you move back to your holopad to send your last couple of messages to your master.

"Quiet as a tomb. I don't like just waiting here for something to happen to her," Anakin complains as Obi-Wan checks a palm-sized view scanner he has pulled out of his utility belt. It shows a shot of R2 by the door, but no sign of Padme on the bed.

"What's going on?" Obi-Wan asks.

"She covered that camera. I don't think she liked us watching her," You roll your eyes.

"What is she thinking?"

"Actually, all of this was (Y/N)'s idea," You look to see the men staring at you.

"I programmed R2 to warn us if there's an intruder,"

"It's not an intruder I'm worried about. There are many other ways to kill a Senator,"

"I know, but we also want to catch this assassin. Don't we, master Jedi?" You respond with a smirk.

"You're using her as bait??"

"It was her idea... No harm will come to her,"

"I can sense everything going on in that room. Trust me," Anakin adds on as you finish your last message and put down your holopad.

"It's too risky... and your senses aren't that attuned, young apprentice,"

"And yours are?"

"Possibly," You roll your eyes at the duo.

"You know, I can sense everything too, Qui-Gon has been teaching me well,"

"I do not disagree, I was his padawan as well," Obi-Wan says as he moves to look out of the window.

"The water is empty, I'll get some more, comm me if anything happens," Obi-Wan nods as Anakin walks beside him.

"You look tired," Obi-Wan states as he examines Anakin.

"I don't sleep well, anymore," He responds truthfully.

"Because of your mother?"

"I don't know why I keep dreaming about her now. I haven't seen her since I was little,"

"Dreams pass in time,"

"I'd rather dream of (Y/N). Just being around her again is...intoxicating," He smiles to himself but Obi-Wan gives him a look of disapproval.

"Mind your thoughts, Anakin, they betray you. You and (Y/N) have made a commitment to the Jedi order... a commitment not easily broken...and remember she is also a Jedi,"

"I understand Master...but there's just something about her. Being around her again...it brings a forgotten but familiar feeling back," Anakin grins, gently touching his chest.

"Anakin, (Y/N) is already on thin ice with the Jedi Council, please don't try and ruin this for her," Anakin looks up at his master.

"I...I won't," You return with a sigh.

"I couldn't get any water!" You exclaim. "Too many procedures to fill up one jug of water," You sigh placing it down. "Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" Anakin and Obi-Wan share a discreet glance.

"No, it's been very quiet," Obi-Wan answers to Anakin's relief. But then, you all stop and look at each other.

"Is it just me?"

"No, I can sense it too," All three of you run and burst into Padme's room. Two creatures stand on their hind legs as Padme lays deadly still. Anakin springs onto the bed and slices the creatures in half with his lightsaber. You see a droid outside and race after it, crashing through the blinds and window. Okay. Bad idea. You did NOT think that through.

You fly through the glass window and fling yourself at the probe droid, grabbing onto the deadly machine before it can flee. The droid sinks under the weight of you but manages to stay afloat and fly away, with you hanging on for dear life, a hundred stories above the city. The droid sends several protective electrical shocks across its surface, causing you to almost lose your grip. As you dart in and out of the speeder traffic, you disconnect a wire on the back of the droid. Its power shuts off. Shit! You and the droid drop like rocks. You realise the error of your ways and quickly puts the wire back. The droid's systems light up again and it takes off.

Sweat begins to build on your forehead. You did not think this through what so ever and you have no idea where Anakin or Obi-Wan is. The last thing you remember is Padme's deadly still body. Is she dead? That sudden thought sends a pang of regret in your gut. Did you allow your best and only friend to die?

The droid bumps against a wall, hoping to knock you loose. It moves behind a speeder afterburner to scorch you. It takes you wildly between buildings and finally skims across a rooftop and you are forced to lift your legs, tenaciously hanging onto the droid.

"Would you stop?!" You growl as the droid heads for a dirty, beat-up speeder hidden in an alcove of a building about twenty stories up. When the pilot of the speeder, a scruffy looking person who is most likely a bounty hunter, sees the droid approach with you hanging on, she pulls a long rifle out of the speeder and starts to fire at you. Explosions burst all around you. "I have a bad feeling about this," You say.

Finally, the droid suffers a direct hit and blows up and you fall fifty stories until a speeder drops down next to you, and you manage to grab onto the back end of the speeder and haul yourself toward the cockpit. You struggle to climb into the seat and you sigh in relief when seeing Anakin driver and Obi-Wan in the passenger seat.

"That was wacky! I almost lost you in the traffic," Anakin said.

"What took you so long?" You ask as you finally sit correctly in the seat you tumbled into.

"Oh, you know, princess, I couldn't find a speeder I really liked, with an open cockpit... and with the right speed capabilities...and then you know I had to get a really gonzo colour..."

"Qui-Gon will not be happy about your recklessness," Obi-Wan chimes in.

"Well, I know who to follow now," Anakin zooms upward in hot pursuit of the bounty hunter as she fires out the open window at you with her laser pistol.

"And Anakin, if you'd spend as much time working on your saber skills as you do on your wit, young Padawan, you would rival Master Yoda as a swordsman," Obi-Wan says, scolding both of you.

"I thought I already did," Anakin replies smugly.

"Only in your mind, my very young apprentice. Careful!! Hey, easy!!" Obi-Wan says as he grips the sides of the speeder as Anakin deftly moves in and out of the oncoming traffic, across lanes, between buildings, and miraculously through a construction site, the bounty hunter still firing at you.

"Sorry, I forgot you don't like flying, Master," You watch with a small smile at the way these two communicate. It reminds you of how you and Lumarina shared a lot of jokes and banter just like these two.

"I don't mind flying... but what you're doing is suicide!" You barely miss a commuter train.

"I agree with Obi-Wan on that account," You say as you duck.

"Master, you know I've been flying since before I could walk. I'm very good at this and (Y/N)...just trust me," You roll your eyes as he laughs and Obi-Wan gasps as Anakin makes another narrow turn.

"Just slow down!" The bounty hunter and Anakin race through a line of cross-traffic made up of giant trucks. The speeders bank sideways as they slide around right-angle turns between buildings. The bounty hunter races into a tram tunnel. "Wait! Don't go in there!" Obi-Wan says but Anakin zooms into the tunnel after the hunter. You see a tram coming at you. Anakin brakes, turns around, and race out, barely ahead of the charging commuter transport."You know I don't like it when you do that!" Obi-Wan growls. "We also have another person with us, try not to kill three Jedi!"

"Sorry, Master. Don't worry, this guy's gonna kill himself any minute now!"

"No, you're going to kill us!" You scold, slapping his head. The hunter turns into oncoming traffic, deliberately trying to throw Anakin off. Oncoming speeders swerve, trying to avoid the hunter and three Jedi. The hunter does a quick, tight loop-over and ends up behind all of you. She is now in a much better position to fire at you all with her laser pistol. To avoid being hit by the laser bolts, Anakin slams on the brakes and moves alongside her. She now fires point-blank at Obi-Wan.

"What are you doing? He's gonna blast me!"

"Right, not a good idea," Anakin quickly turns and swerves away. Suddenly, the hunter throws a bunch of explosives in your direction. You stand and use the force to hold them away from your speeder as they explode. Out of a cloud of smoke and ball of flames Anakin tears after the hunter.

"(Y/N), that didn't do much help!" Obi-Wan slaps out the small fire on the dashboard.

"At least we're not dead!" You exclaim, sitting back down. The hunter goes up and down, through cross-traffic. There is a near miss as a speeder almost hits you. The hunter turns down and left between two buildings. Anakin pulls up and to the right

"Where are you going?! He went down there, the other way,"

"This is a shortcut... I think,"

"What do you mean, 'You think?' What kind of shortcut?! He went completely the other way! You've lost him!" You exclaim from behind him.

"Guys, if we keep this chase going, that creep's gonna end up deep-fried personally, I'd very much like to find out who in the hell he is and who he's working for..."

"Oh, so that's why we're going in the wrong direction," Obi-Wan says sarcastically. Anakin turns up a side street, zooming up several small passageways, then stops, hovering about fifty stories up. Obi-Wan folds his arms. "Well, you lost him,"

"I'm deeply sorry, Master,"

"Great job Anakin, he went completely the other way," You groan, unhappy for losing the bounty hunter. Anakin looks around front and back. He spots something. He seems to start counting to himself as he watches something below approach.

"Excuse me for a moment," Anakin then jumps out of the speeder. You and Obi-Wan watch as he jumps on the hunter's speeder about five stories below you. You quickly jump into the driver's seat and follow after them. You deftly gain on the rogue speeder. The two speeders dive through oncoming traffic and then through cross traffic. You then see Anakin drop something and you quickly catch it. You then notice it's his lightsaber. You sigh and hand it to Obi-Wan.

"I'm going to have to admit, this has been the most fun I've had since Naboo," You say as you follow the speeder as it crashes onto the ground.

"Naboo? You mean with Maul?"

"Well, everything leading up to that," You say as you talently spin around oncoming vehicles.

"Spinning is not flying!" Obi-Wan groans. "This is the first time I've ridden with you and your already matching Anakin's recklessness," You chuckle as you land. You grin as you land and wipe the sweat from your head. Obi-Wan looks at you before chuckling. You also laugh as he gets out and helps you out. "I will have to admit, that was something different,"

"Probably something the council will frown upon," You joke before seeing him. "Anakin!"

"She went into that club," Anakin said, pointing to the bright sign.

"Patience," Obi-Wa reminds as he hands Anakin his lightsaber. "Here. Next time try not to lose it,"

"Sorry, Master," Anakin reaches for the lightsaber, but Obi-Wan holds it back. "A Jedi's saber is his most precious possession,"

"Yes, Master," He reaches for his lightsaber again, but Obi-Wan pulls it back.

"He must keep it with him at all times,"

"I know, Master,"

"This weapon is your life!"

"I've heard this lesson before..." You and Anakin say at the same time. Obi-Wan finally holds out his lightsaber and Anakin grabs it.

"But unlike (Y/N), you haven't learned anything, Anakin,"

"I try, Master,"

"However, you should thank (Y/N) for catching it for you," Obi-Wan says before stepping away.

"Thank you...you've lost your lightsaber?" He teases as you follow Obi-Wan.

"Yeah, but I found it," You defend.

"How long did it take you?"

"3 lectures from my master and one full rotation,"

"Really? Where was it?" You look down. "(Y/N)," He says in a sing-song voice.

"It was under my bed," Anakin laughs loudly and you also chuckle as all three of you enter the nightclub.

[morbidkisses]

I’m not sure how your requests work or what you would need, but could I get a yandere Hoseok story please?

You Belong With Me. (y! hoseok drabble)

warning: yandere themes, obsessive themes, yandere behavior, manipulation, abusive relationships, hobi gets kind of aggressive later on in the story, misogyny, choking, hair pulling, reader is chained up to the wall, death, minor character deaths.

summary: you get into an argument with hoseok because he refuses to let you go outside and catch up with your friends over a few drinks.

I do not condone this type of behavior so please don't romanticize this type of sick behavior, and if you're part in an abusive relationship please seek help!

once again this is FICTION, and yandere is counted as horror/mystery type of shit so stay safe bubbies! oh and this might be triggering so please read at your own risk, and if you don't like stuff like this then SCROLL. I talk too much-

"What? so you love them more than me??"

you rolled your eyes and sighed in exasperation. your boyfriend was being irrational at this point, and it was driving you crazy. You met hoseok a few weeks ago, and you were charmed by his radiant smile, his sweet words, he was the perfect gentleman with good looks and a fat bank account, you couldn't say no when he asked you out on a date, how could you? he was literally so perfect, but you were too blind to see the dark imperfections hidden behind his bright smile.

"For the hundredth time, hobi, they're my friends and I just want to catch up with them! You're being illogical-"

"How am I the one being illogical when you're the one who is choosing your so-called friends over me???" He threw his hands in the air to emphasize his point, his eyes were so wide you thought they would pop out.

"Just because I want to see them and talk to them doesn't mean I love them more than you, for God's sake!!! stop being so childish." you yelled out as you tugged at your hair strands in frustration. Why was he making such a big deal out of this? it wasn't like you were going out to cheat on him with someone else, you just wanted to go out and catch up with your friends at the local bar.

"You're not going, and that's the end of this stupid discussion, love. Now, get your ass back in the bedroom and change into something proper, you look like a slut in that dress."

Okay. that was it. You grabbed the first thing your hands could find, which was a tissue box and threw it at him as hard as you possibly could in rage. How dare he call you that, your dress was completely fine. You were clad in a simple black dress that dropped right above your knees and the only thing that could be considered inappropriate by society was the little cleavage that was showing, but even if you were to go out in the tightest dress he still had no rights to call you that. You had to leave him. And leave him you did.

"You're such a bitch, I tried to make this shit work but honestly I'm fed up with your immature ass. Im leaving." you picked up your purse which had your car keys and phone in it, before walking towards the entrance door and opening it.

"don't bother calling me again." you mumbled before slamming the door shut behind you.

Hoseok was in a state of shock, his soul had left his body, he couldn't process what just happened. It felt like someone had just poured a bucket of ice cold water on him.

"n-no... y/n, sweetie, come back..." his voice cracked as he fell to his knees in devastation. He knew you could no longer hear him, but he hoped you would come back through those doors and hug him. How could you be so cruel? You were the reason he was breathing? He felt like all the light was pulled out of him, his mind going numb as he stared down at his hands.

Soft cries left his lips as his stature stuttered while he sobbed silently, but not before long, he broke into an unhinged laughter as he sat down on the ground and leaned back against the couch, his eyes stuck to the door you had so rudely slammed into his face. All traces of sadness had disappeared from his face, a devilish smirk replacing the heartbreaking frown.

You were going to regret this big time.

He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a number.

"Tae, my birdie just left me, can you do me a favor and bring her back to me?"

The person on the other line scoffed audibly

"Do I even have a choice?" 'Tae' groaned.

"Not really. Be careful not to hurt her, and bring her two little friends with her as well, I don't care if you hurt them just keep those two alive, my birdie needs to learn a lesson."

A sigh could be heard from the other line before 'tae' mumbled an okay.

"I'll text you the location."

Everything was a blur, one moment you were laughing and having fun with your friends and the very next second you fell unconscious. Unknown to you, someone might have put a few ingredients in your drinks.

You woke up with a throbbing ache in your head, your mind was fogged up and you couldn't think. A groan left your lips as you brought your hands up to rub your temples. You sat up on what seemed to be a bed, your mind started clearing up, but you were still confused, where were you? what happened? You fully opened your eyes and panic started filling your mind as you realized you were in Hoseok's room. You started hyperventilating and quickly got out of bed, but you felt something heavy around your ankle.

was he fucking serious???

He had cuffed your ankles, you were literally chained to the wall. the chain was long enough for you to roam around the room and the bathroom.

You were hysteric, trying your hardest to pull out the thick chains from the wall, but your efforts were futile. Silent sobs began pouring from your lips as you panicked. After giving up you slumped against the wall and hugged your knees as you cried to yourself.

"Oh you're up!" Hoseok beamed as he entered the room.

Furious yet terrified, you stood up and charged at him full speed before grabbing him by the collar of his white shirt and yanking him closer to your face.

"Listen here, you crazy psychopath, if you don't let me out of here right now I'll-"

"oh please, what are you gonna do?" he grinned sinisterly as he gingerly ran his fingers through your hair, you were such a cute little thing, bluffing around. You couldn't do shit to him at the moment, and both of you were aware of that fact. His gentle strokes didn't last long as he yanked your hair back.

"You must learn your lesson, my love, I didn't want to do this but you misbehaved."

His other hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off the blood flow to the brain. Your face started becoming red as you tugged at his hand.

"p-plea... se... s-sto..."

He scoffed at your expression as he tilted his head. "know your place."

He tightened his grip one last time before letting you fall to the ground on your knees, before you broke into a coughing fit.

"That's where you belong" his tone was enough to make you shudder. "you belong with me... completely at my mercy."

You didn't have it in you to fight more so you just weakly glared up at him, your legs felt numb, rendering you motionless on your knees.

"I hate you..."

"aw, but I've barely started your punishment, love! It's still too early to hate me!"

although your words stung him a bit, he didn't show it. He just feigned an innocent smile before he grabbed his phone and unlocked it.

Bewildered by his actions, you frowned. What was he up to? what did he mean when he said it's still too early to hate him?

"Ah Tae! Hello!" He sounded awfully cheerful and enthusiastic. How could he shift his mood like that. It seemed as if he was face timing someone on his phone.

Hoseok looked down at you and he almost cooed at your adorably confused expression.

a sigh was heard from the other line. "You owe me big time, hoseok."

"yeah yeah, I'll send you the money later. Can you show me our friends for a bit?"

no.. he couldn't mean...

He crouched down next to you and showed you the screen of his phone. Your eyes widened in horror as you quickly began shaking your head.

"Hobi, please no no, please! Leave them out of this please!" you almost choked on your tears as you begged him to let your friends go.

"it's a bit too late for that, baby." he pressed a kiss to your temple which made your skin crawl in disgust.

"YOU BASTARD, LET THEM GO." you screamed at the screen as you watched your best friends tied up and severely bruised.

"I don't get paid enough for this shit..." 'Tae' muttered. You couldn't see his face on the screen, probably because he was using the back camera to show your friends.

"the fuck am I supposed to do now?" the person behind the camera asked.

"oh just finish them off."

Hoseok sat down on the ground and back hugged your body, his head resting on your shoulder as he made sure your eyes didn't leave the screen.

"no please don't! I'm begging you please stop!" you cried out as the camera got closer to your friends. Your friends' cries were left unheard as two bullets were shot right into their skulls.

You let out a blood curling scream as you thrashed around, but hoseok was stronger than you, so he held you down with ease. How could he do that?

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you both, you motherfuckers!" you screamed at them both as tears streamed down your cheeks.

"thank you, tae, I owe you! bye bye!" he ended the call.

"You see love, we could've avoided all of this... if you had just been obedient. This is all your fault, I hope you know that." he sighed as he looked down at your crying form.

He was sick, how could he say that, did he feel no remorse?

"you can't leave me... you belong to me."

a/n: that was kind of shitty- but I tried- sorry for the late updates! I hope you like it :]]

this is unedited by the way :]

oh and I used a yandere starter prompt by @yandere-daydreams ! :]

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 11 July 1835

7 ¼

1

no kiss got up soon after 6 but bilious headache and lay down again - dull but finish morning - took the £50 bank of England no. 108 November 11, 1834 Manchester out of the note George brought back on Wednesday and sent it under cover to ‘Messrs. Rawsons Bankers Halifax’ by John at 8 am or soon after - sat talking to A- in the blue room - very biliously inclined - F57° now at 9 am then breakfast in about ¾ hour - Washington came - stable racks will not be ready till Wednesday - George accompanied by James Howarth who had taken the cart and my 2 horses before breakfast to Greenwoods for 5 planks worth of  boards for floor over Hopkins’ cowhouse, got back very well and went forwards to Hopkins - Charles H- also with him to lay the boards - had Mawson - ordered a baring to be begun of Whiskam stone on Monday if possible the baring and loadening should be 3 1/2d. per cubic yard - but said it should be 3d. the good stuff to be carted down here to the opposite approach gate at 1/. per cubic yard - Mr Husband called and said something from Mr Harper I forget what - Had Joseph Mann - the water comes out into the pit at 78 yards deep - he has taken his level from 80 yards 1ft. deep in the pit, and then it would come out about 10 yards below the garden low corner - but it should be driven at the bottom of the rag both for ease and getting more water and then it should be taken from 90 yards in the pit and that would bring it about just above (perhaps) my rustic chair in the walk  (at the thorns bottom of call croft) - could not get rid of the stuff - give it up - then till after 1 looking over my journals and accounts respecting Mr Parker bills and cash account –

SH:7/ML/E/18/0059

left A- copying must papers again and off to Halifax at 1 ¾  - down the old bank to Mr Parker’s office - saw both him and Mr Adam - explained about the bills - left the cash account with them to have another from the time (18 June 1833) of my leaving Shibden for Copenhagen up to 1st instant –

bills no. 1 = £28.5.0

no.2 = £36.6.2

no.3 = £93.1.3

no.4 = £89.3.4

no.5 = £17.16.0 - £2+

264.11.9

2_______

262.11.9

+ to be carried to cash account

 added up the amount of these 5 bills Mr P- took it at £260 which I paid him full up to 30 June last, and he receipted (‘settled’) all the bills - so that I owe nothing for law except since that time - and in the cash account floating between us there is a balance in my favour of £12 + and £10 Wakefield road money still to come in, but then Mrs. Fergusons trust money is to pay ¼ year = £20 or more and ½ years interest on Mr. Wainhouse’s £1000 at 4 ¼ p.c. is now due (due on the 8th instant) and is to be paid by P. and A- Mr. W- has no objection to take six navigation shares - but P- does not think he will give 400 guineas may give £405 - I said all that was got above £400 was clear gain - I should be glad if P- could get £410 but would take £405 for the six shares - must have as much more than £400 per share as would pay the expense - but I had made up my mind to sell all my navigation stock - Mr. P-‘s bill had frightened but it was perhaps the best thing that could have come to me - it had made me examine into the expense of borrowing money - borrowed money would cost me 10 p.c. the 1st year and no building could pay for this - Mr. P- did not deny this - Mr. Adam said I had better put my stock up by auction - Mr. P- thought not - had better sell the 6 shares 1st - very well - agreed - said I could was not in such immediate haste but that I could wait perhaps till Xmas before selling the rest - on 1st saying I had made up my mind to sell all, said should I pay off Mr. Wainhouses £1000? Mr. P-‘s manner of answering I must do as I liked about that proved that he was rather nettled - I then observed well! as I had paid the expense of the bond, perhaps I had better wait a little and settle with my aunt and Miss Walker 1st; for, on paying the £200 I paid down towards the five bills saying I would send the other £60 this evening, I made a [min.] of it in my rough book and Mr P- would not help seeing the entries received from A- £200 (of the Mytholm rents given into her care) and received from A- £100 I said that I certainly thought it better to avoid the expense of borrowing but certainly this consideration apart, I thought the navigation a speculative concert too much so for me, and I should be glad to back out at anything above £400 - Mr. P- begged I would not pay the 5 bills if it was not convenient - said it was perfectly convenient, and I did not like to have my account books disgraced by any bills of long standing - P- said he had had some conversation with Mr. Abbott respecting the navigation and he (A-) told him Mr. Lewis Alexander asked 400 guineas for the 3 shares he had on sale - not a muscle of my face was changed, and I pursued the subject of my own price as if nobody’s name had been mentioned - went to Whitley’s - no letter - no news of Powson - said I had sent the morning Heralds (on Tuesday) for the six months of this year that he might put them into his press till I had 2 months more ready - for 2 volumes - had got to the top of the old bank in returning before I recollected the 2 [shaims?] more of netting silk for A- for my purse - went down the new back (and back the same way) to Nicholson’s for it - home at 3 ¾ musing on selling my navigation stock and on P- and A-‘s saying Northgate hotel would certainly not pay me - went down to Marian for a £10 joint stock note instead of sending gold to make up the £60 to P- and A- staid talking till A- came home about 6 - Marian only hopes what I have will last me my life - she called on Mrs Holmes (yesterday?) Mrs H- said it was said I thought Marian would degrade herself by her match - Marian could not tell that I thought that but told what I meant to do - I quietly observed I was sorry she had told it because sufficient till the day was the evil there of - I had never made use of the word degraded and thought I never should - I had expressed myself more strongly to Marian herself the other day than I had ever done before or perhaps should ever do again and then the word I used was mésalliance - I had never named the subject out of the house - nor had A- except to her aunt to whom on her (the aunt) mentioning the subject she said I had told her to say I believed the match would take place I meant to do so and so but Mrs AW- was requested not to name this communication and I felt sure she had not done so, and would not do so - Marian sure her friend had heard something - I said I could not answer for what might be said by other people when they began to tell my thoughts for me - but I had told Marian I should never say a syllable derogatorily to her friend - I respected his character and could only repeat if she must choose between him and the 2 she formerly mentioned she would take if she had an opportunity (Mr Christopher Rawson and Mr John Priestley) I should much prefer her present choice - not my intention to say this to anyone else but herself but if it could be any consolation to any one I had no objection - her friend’s mother had inquired after my aunt - Marian said my aunt had never inquired after the family since Marian’s friend came here - the mother was annoyed - Marian said as if in atonement she Marian had only gone once a day to see my aunt ever since - upon this -‘the powers’ said I ‘can even the mother expect my aunt should like the match’ Marian! there is no policy that influences me  - it is a feeling in have in spite of myself’ - Marian said she herself did not consider it a mésalliance all that, said I, is very well - ‘of course, you don’t - but different people take the same word in different acceptations - no one can deny that I go straight forward in the path nature seemed to have set out for us - it is you who step aside’  - Mrs Holmes had said, Marian and I were such different people there was nothing to be said - she did not say anything against me, but thought Marian right to please herself and consult her own happiness - what would suit the one would not the other - However it appears Marian’s friend is more annoyed at my dislike to the match than she herself is, and there was an insinuation that it might even put off the match! I said, if I was Marian’s parent, that might be very well but as it is, I have no right to influence her marrying - I have nothing to do with - he has no business to mind me - but I think he courted the connection and the place and therefore minds me  A- came in but just before and after dinner (dinner at 6 ¼) afterwards being called downstairs to Mr Powson from Sandford school near Brough who arrived a little before or about 9pm having walked from Skipton this afternoon - A- disappointed with his appearance and manner and his having seven young children - I went in and thought pretty well of him - a good arithmetician, and reader and writer and good at measurement (Nesbit’s) but knows little or nothing of algebra or Euclid - his expense coming 14/. - behaved very handsomely and civilly - ordered him cold meat and porter - saw him a few minutes again (after his eating) and gave him 30/ for his expense and 5/.  towards defraying the expense of postage he has been at - he has 36 scholars and the Sunday school is £5 per annum - he has no certainty but that - reading per quarter 4/. and with writing 5/. and with ditto and accounts 6/. and with all the 3 and mensuration  7/. he seems a good sort of honest man, not polished or spruce - but fatigued with his journey - said I was

SH:7/ML/E/18/0060

 sorry he had been so dilatorily in writing for we were in treaty with another and could give no answer at present but he should have one as soon as we could give it - he is not looking out or thinking of any other situation that we need not hurry about him - he seemed obliged enough without thanking too much for our unexpected liberality - it was near 10 before he went away - A- had latterly had Washington - I 10 minutes with my aunt - tea at 10 ¼ - then till 10 10  wrote all but the 1st 15 lines of today while A- finished copying musty papers - fine day good drought and everybody busy in the hay - my father had none ready for housing but got a good deal ready for Monday - F60° at 12 10 past midnight -

note this evening from Messrs. P- and A- acknowledging the receipt of the money

[obx-snippets]

Jellyfish || JJ. Maybank

Summary: JJ and Y/N have been surfing partners since they first met one night at the beach. One day when she gets stung by a jellyfish, JJ finds ways to take her mind off the pain.

Masterlist

W. Count: 3 k. (oops)

Authors Note: So this is the second story on my account. Sorry if I overdid it, I just couldn’t get out of the flow.

Pairing: JJ x reader

Warnings: language, underage drinking, smoking, mentions of stinging.

**I do not own this gif. Credit to owner.**

The scorching heat beat down on her sunkissed shoulder as her body slightly bobbed in the water after resurfacing from it's freezing clutches. With her arm flung over her surfboard's wet surface, she wiped the salty water from her red-ringed eyes, the stinging sensation being just as bothersome as the blazing sun above her. A storm had just passed over the Outer Banks meaning the waves were higher than ever, and she just couldn't resist sitting in her house all day. She had just finished surfing a wake that eventually swallowed her whole and hurdled her dainty body into the water. After recovering from the intense wave, she used the bit of her strength to climb back on the board, letting her legs quickly wrap around the slick surface before she could tip over again. Feeling the water slightly shift, she kept a tight grip on the smooth-edged of her board, begging for the current to still just for a moment to catch her breath.

Her cautious eyes sunk in the scenery before her and took a deep breath in to let the salty air fill her senses. The tranquil, serene moment was destroyed by the dramatic splashing to get her attention. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to savor the moment of bliss a bit longer before her surfing partner could ruin the moment.

Stomach pressed against his board, JJ's wet tones muscles pulled through the water to glide by her side, a cheeky smile coloring his beautiful porcelain face that she admired more than she let on. She continued to observe the boy, and it appeared he had wet his whole body first before joining her. His contoured face was shining with water droplets; his blonde hair slicked back with his cerulean eyes practically glowed under the sun. She swallowed thickly and shot a glance to his tanned athletic body that was set on display as he sat up on his blue surfboard, his ring clad finger tapping on the surface, waiting for the girl to acknowledge his presence.

Y/n had lived on the Outer Banks long enough to know the kind of boy JJ was. A kleptomaniac, who couldn't stand an hour without so much as pulling out a joint rolled by himself or a beer. She had seen him around the island along with his fellow pogues who seemed friendly for the most part, but she kept to herself and only associated with the kooks. They weren't her prototypical choice of friends, but it kept her busy when she wasn't out on the water.

Her first encounter with the Maybank boy was at midnight when the overcast of the obsidian sky staged the full silver moon as it pulled its waves to about eight feet, and she couldn't hold herself back. It seemed she wasn't the only one out that night, and with the dim light from the moon, she mistook the boy for a shark and kicked him in the face. She apologized profusely and begged to let her buy him dinner.

Nevertheless, it had been typical for them to meet out on the water, and eventually, he earned the spot of her surfing companion. She was aware of his reputation with girls and made sure to make it clear to JJ that their relationship was strictly platonic. But telling JJ not to flirt was like telling him to stop drinking, which was nearly impossible.

The clearing of his throat brought her from her trance, and her eyes met him momentarily before glowering, causing his eyes to widen at the sudden change in her expression. "Seriously, I breathe, and you're already mad at me." JJ was appalled as he watched her pull a wet strand of hair away from her high bronzed cheekbone, which was slightly turning an irritable red from lack of sunscreen. "No, 'hello JJ, how was your morning on the HMS pogue? Catch any fish?'"

She only stared at the boy, a dull expression etched on your features, assuring him she wasn't in the mood for his antics. She had been their half an hour per JJ's request, and all the while he was fishing. She curls her orange painted fingertips and scoops water to toss a splash toward the boy beside her, her board slightly shifting with the sudden attack. "You're late." she huffed, her tone stern to show him that she was bothered by his lack of presence.

"I actually did catch a lot of fish today," JJ mumbled with a static tone of sass as he picked at his nails and let the water she had thrown drip down his contoured jawline.

She shook her head and shrugged, "I didn't ask." she stated flatly.

"Pretty big ones too. John B was jealous."

"That's fascinating, JJ."

JJ sensed her hateful tone and snapped his attention to the girl beside him, watching as she swings her leg gently in the water, picking at the washed-out paint on her board with her index finger. "You know what I think?" JJ groaned as he reached over, hooking his calloused ring clad hand under her knee pit and forcing her closer to him before her hands immediately grasped onto her board's smooth edges. The girl let out a yelp as she had already warmed the upper half of her body and wasn't looking forward to falling into the frigid water. Her glare went unnoticed as JJ put up a finger up to silence her. She was utterly surprised and kept her soft sunburnt lips in a fine line. "I think you're just mad because you missed me, and my lack of presence dampened your mood."

JJ's implied pun made his mood brighter as a white, toothy grin touched his lips. As much as she saw this as a platonic relationship, she was always tempted to close the gap between them and press her lips against his. But she refused to fraternize with a boy who liked to sleep around with Tourens. If they ever had a moment, she knew she would end up just like the many many kooks who came to her crying that the famous JJ Maybank left them.

His face was dangerously close to her, his eyes flicking to her lips every second that he was able to praise her figure. He relished the way the sun glowed against her sky blue bathing suit and the rise and fall of her chest as his stare was breaking her from within. The ever-growing smirk was apparent on his lips, seeing the blush that overcame her face as she pulled in her bottom lips between her teeth. Once she found herself getting lost in his gorgeous baby blue eyes, she knew he had her in his clutches.

Taking a deep intake of breath, she narrowed her eyes at the boy. "You see my face JJ?" she inquired quite earnestly, pointing at her face, making the boy quirk a brow in amusement. "This is me straining to care less about what you think."

Pushing away from JJ, who gave the girl a look at her snarky comment, she laid back on her stomach, the frigid water decorating her arms with goosebumps as she paddled toward an incoming wave. JJ saw this as a mental competition and began paddling some ways away to catch up.

The two stayed out on the water for half an hour, catching perfect waves that they both rode flawlessly. If either messed up, they teased each other over form or simply doubled over to erupt with laughter. There came a time when JJ just finished riding a wave, and he crossed his tanned, muscular arms upon his board to relive the stress from his overburdened legs. He floated in place, allowing the tips of his toes to drag against the sand settled under him as he used his rough thumb to thread his index finger's ring. A smile tugged on the corner of his lips as he intently watched the girl he proudly called his surfing partner. A massive point break wave came tumbling toward her at full force, and she surprisingly caught the drift as she stood on her board and quickly surfed through the shimmering blue oblique angle before it swallowed her whole.

It was common for one of them to get devoured by a wave when one attempted to surf it longer than ten seconds. But a tinge of worry stung his chest when she took longer to resurface, and he gradually pushed his board aside, waiting to see the girl pop up when the waves settled. A gasp of air broke through her lungs once she resurfaced and took a deep intake of fresh air. JJ's heart slammed immensely against his ribcage at the sight of the gleaming smile that graced her lips. That was one of the many reasons why he bothered to show up at the beach. No matter how many times he enjoyed pissing her off, her gorgeous, sparkling features always seemed to make way to her structured appearance.

Throwing a fist in the air while her other hand clung to her board, she whooped loudly for herself. "Did you see that!" she proclaimed, pointing to the wave that was previously before them.

JJ clapped his hands in a slow dramatic form, "Perfect form milady. You may just be the best surfer on the island." he spoke in a posh accent, making the girl giggle and shake her head at the boy.

"I already am the best surfer!" she retorted, gawking at the boy for his mistake.

JJ winced at her remark and shook his head disapprovingly. "Yea y/n your ego is up here," with his hand raised high above his board, causing his toned torso to stretch, he slowly lowered it slightly, barely making contact with the slick surface to make his point, "it needs to come down to about this level where reality is princess."

She took both her index and middle finger, haughtily saluting them before flicking him off. The boy's raspy laugh made her features soften with a soft, admiring smile. How could the sound of someone's voice make her this warm? As she kicked her feet in the water to make her way to JJ, who was getting closer to shore, she felt something slimy coil around her calf, and an electrifying jolt of pain shot up her leg, eliciting an earsplitting scream from her lips.

JJ's heart wrenched as the severity of the situation dawned on him. Abandoning his board, he swam at full speed, his tied arms begging him to stop, but he refused. A whimper escaped her quivering lips as a hot tear rolled down her cheek, blending in with the saltwater. JJ reached her side, his breathing heavy from the winded swim. "What happened?" his tone was frantic, desperate to know what made her scream.

"Fucking jellyfish," she groaned in a low tone that laced resentment toward the damn sea creature, her arm struggling her keep her afloat as one of her legs was now too weak to paddle. JJ took notice of her struggling silhouette and quickly snaked his broad arms around her waist and hoisted her atop her board. "Holy hell..." she breathed, staring down at the sight of a red print of a jellyfish tentacle coiling around her calf like a serpent. The stinging sensation throbbed through her whole body and winced at the contact of the board's wet surface.

"Alright, alright, just hold on while I get you to shore." JJ tried keeping his voice steady, seeing the pained expression upon the face he admired. One second she was celebrating with a bright smile, and now she slipped into a state of sheer misery. JJ kicked his feet against the current, pushing t/n on the board toward the shore. She didn't even get the chance to attempt to stand up when JJ coiled his arm around her waist and gently pulled her up to wobble on one foot. She kept a steady grip on his shoulder, her nails digging into his tanned skin with every bounce that sent another strike up her leg. "Coming in for landing," JJ spoke into his shoulder with a static radio sound he made with his teeth.

A week laugh slipped her lips as she sat her bottom against a towel she had laid out before heading to the water. She let out a dissatisfied huff as she hit the material and stretched her stung leg out in front of her. "How you feeling?" JJ asked lowly, afraid if he spoke any louder, she would break. His eyes still clouded with concern, he laid a hand on the small of her back, rubbing soft circles. As soothing as his warm hand felt on her skin, she wished it was on an occasion where she wasn't cursing internally from the pain racking her body.

"Like I just got stung by a jellyfish." she breathed with stoic sarcasm, poking the red marks on her leg.

"No shit," JJ glared his eye down at her, his deep tone matching her sarcastic comment.  

"You know this is your fault," she grumbled silently, not missing JJ's eyes widening immediately and dipping his head to reveal his incredulous expression.

"How the hell is this my fault?" he questioned in a defensive tone, interested to know how she came to the excusatory conclusion.

She snapped her head toward him, her menacing eyes drilling into his sapphire orbs. JJ inched away slightly, jumping at her surprisingly threatening glare. "If you weren't late with your stupid fishing, then we could have left an hour ago, and this would have never happened." she snapped sharply, waving her hands animatedly over her red laced leg.

JJ gesticulated violently with his hands, his brain reeling with her notion. "What, are you gonna blame me for global warming next?" his question was sincere, now wondering what else she would pull out of her sleeve just to blame him. "Did you forget that your amazingly good-looking friend brought you all the way here? You're the one who decided to get yourself stung by a jellyfish."

She gave a feigned pout, toward the boy, her anger rooting from the burning sensation now heating her body from the sting. "I'm sorry, JJ, I just couldn't help myself." she shot back. The whole conversation was laced with sarcasm that neither of them knew how to stop.

JJ stayed knelt down, propped by the tips of his toes that were now plastered with sand. He let out an irritable huff, his blood pressure spiraling upward with the girl's stubborn nature. With her arms propped behind to hold herself upright, her lingering gaze stayed locked with her leg as water trailed down her head from her drenched hair.

JJ was the first to surrender to the overbearing silence that was filled with the crashing of waves on the shore and the obnoxious screeching of seagulls. He pushed himself to his feet and began pulling down on his trunks' waistband before y/n shot her hand out to pause the boy in his questionable actions. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked in puzzlement, almost afraid of his answer as the v-line of his torso was defining more with his lowered red trunks.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I've got to pee--" his explanation was cut short with the frantic shake of her head.

"Absolutely not. Keep that thing in your pants." she refused sternly, averting her eyes to the ocean's skyline ahead of her, watching a far-off boat floating on the water.

JJ clapped a hand over his toned buff chest that was glistening under the sunlight. "You know he's doesn't like to be called thing." he snapped a matter fact nodding toward his crotch.

She scrunched her nose, the lines of her forehead creasing as she looked up to meet his baby blue eyes, hoping that his statement was a joke. "I didn't know your dick had a preference." she flashes a smug look.

"Well, it's just weird if I call him a her." he protested with his reasoning with a shrug of his shoulder that was now reddening.

"It's weird, giving it a name at all, JJ."

"Well, I'm peeing on you anyway."

He continued to pull down on his shorts, and y/n reached up and clasped his wrist to halt his movement. "If you dare pull it out, I will cut it off." she hissed quietly, ignoring the pain shooting up her leg from her abrupt shift.

A sudden prideful smirk made way to JJ's chapped lips as a stifle broke his lungs. "According to Tourens and other kook ladies, it may take you a while to cut considering--."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Woman, would you stop being stubborn and let me pee on your leg!"

"No! Think of something else!"

JJ parted his lips to argue when an idea sprung in his brain. He happily hummed to himself as he made his way along the sand to grab his backpack that he had tossed when he first arrived. Y/n watch him all the while, biting back a laugh with his dramatic movement on his way back to her. He plopped down on the spot next to her and set the bag between his legs. " I have a special concoction made by yours truly that could help your dilemma," he stated proudly, rummaging through his bag, the clinking, and crackling of other items being tossed about as he searched for his said concoction. He had tossed his black button-up toward her in order to make space for vision, and she took it upon herself to slide the shirt over her head, relishing in the familiar scent in which she adored.

JJ didn't realize her wearing his shirt as he lifted his head, or he quite honestly liked it and brushed it off. He lifted his masterpiece of a joint like it was the most precious thing on earth. "You wanna get me high?" she questioned his remedy aloud, but his grin didn't falter.

"It'll get your mind off the pain just until you can care for the sting properly. Since you didn't let me pee on you, this is the next best thing. Trust me." JJ leaned closer to her, and she parted her lips ever so slightly to let him place the join between them. With every movement he made, they kept their eyes locked. Oddly, everything the boy was doing was heating y/n up everywhere. Pushing his hips up, he fished threw his back pocket to pull out his Zippo lighter with his initial's chiseled in the metal.

Y/n let out a soft laugh, "Cute," she commented, keeping the joint between her lips.

JJ passed her wink with a smirk playing on his lips as he flicked the lighter cap open, running his thumb against the clasp to produce a flame and slowing brought it to the end of the joint until it glistened with light. She let in a deep inhale, allowing the weed to lace her throat, and she hummed in satisfaction. She let her head hang back, reveling in the warm sun and the smell of JJ's shirt before breathing out, watching the smoke fill the air above her. JJ watched her intently, his eyes veiling over with pure adoration. He watched her unruly baby hairs stick to the side of her face, and he promptly lifted his swarm hand to pull them away. Y/n tilted her head toward the boy, her eyes already dazing over. He assumed she didn't intake weed well and was already basking in the after effect.

Taking his joint out of her mouth, he took a deep inhale himself before letting a cloud of smoke hover over them. As his eyes fluttered shut, his lashes slightly brushed against his cheekbones. Y/n plucked the joint from his fingers and let the weed fill her lungs once again before laying her head on JJ's warm shoulder, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her breath fanning against his neck made JJ hum in satisfaction. He tilted his head and met her clouded eyes, already staring up at him in wonder. His eyes flicker down to her lips, licking his own in the process and imagining how she tasted. "Can I kiss you?" his voice was soft and tender as he brought up his hand to cup the back of her neck and rubbed his calloused thumb against her smooth jaw.

A flutter in her chest erupted as she allowed him to brush his nose against hers. Her proclamation of a platonic relationship was now a fleeting memory in the back of her mind. She barely got through nodding when JJ's chapped lips captured her's in a blissful movement. Her lips tasted of sea salt and weed, and he pressed deeper into her lips to try more of her. She never thought this moment would ever occur, but she was now thankful to the jellyfish for bringing her to this spot where JJ's lips worked with her in slow passionate rhythm as if she would crumble in his embrace. But all she felt was safety with JJ Maybank.

[stusbunker]

Hunters’ Crossing: Moving In

A Kinky Swingin’ Supernatural AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader

Written for: @spnkinkbingo

Word Count: 3535

Square Filled: Teasing

Summary: Dean and you work on moving into your new house. Which just happens to be Sam and Rowena’s old place. A neighbor stops by while Dean is out, welcoming you to the cul-de-sac. As the day goes on, you enjoy distracting your husband until he has had enough.

Warnings: 18yo+, shower sex, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, fingering, anal sex, analingus, dirty talk, just happy couple smut.

Pre-read by @cracksinthewalls & @thoughtslikeaminefield​ (who also made the awesome header).

    Dean had been up and itching to get the show on the road for over an hour. The only things left unboxed in the two bedroom ranch, you had been renting since moving back to town, was the mattress, bedframe and a change of clothes. As of sometime after midnight, Dean and you were packed and ready to go. Unfortunately for your husband, you were still sound asleep.

    He started pacing, or what sounded like pacing from your exhausted face-down state. It turned out he had started moving the boxes from your room to the driveway.

    Dean wasn’t being loud, but it was really fucking early for that. 

    You crawled out of bed just after eight, shrugged into the old top and leggings you had left out the night before, and prayed he had gotten coffee. 

    “And she’s up,” Dean snapped his fingers in excitement. You grumbled your good morning, but snuggled into his side as he dialed Benny, his lead mechanic and the guy who was bringing the trailer. You nursed your coffee (with all the right fixings) as Dean finished his call.

    “Can you believe where we’re gonna be livin’?” Dean kissed your temple, then looked down at you like a kid on the way to Disneyland.

     “Uh, yeah, so can the bank account. You’re lucky you’re so cute and Sam’s lucky you have a soft spot for him,” you finished on a mumble.

    “You love that house, don’t be like that,” Dean tisked at you.

    “I do! I do. It’s just, I could have slept for like four more hours,” you whined. “Thank you for my coffee.”

    Dean rolled his eyes at you, but you could tell he was pleased he had done good. You left a quick kiss on his jaw before he walked away to start hauling more things outside. 

    Barely ten minutes had passed when Benny and Bobby sauntered up the walkway. Before you had even metabolized the caffeine, the first trip was underway.

    Hunter’s Crossing was the last cul-de-sac at the end of Lawrence Lane. Which ran the length of the development known as the Ethereal Estates. The four bedroom, three bathroom McMansion that you and Dean had purchased from his younger brother Sam was on the northern corner, facing south. Dean pulled the Impala into the garage with Benny and Bobby with the truck and trailer filling the driveway right behind you. 

    As you climbed from the passenger’s seat, Benny let out an impressed whistle.

    “Damn, Boss, you’ve gone full country club on us,” the large man drawled.

    “Can it, nimrod, or you’ll give him an even bigger head,” Bobby warned. Benny and you both laughed.

    “You done? Cuz, last time I checked you can walk and talk,” Dean snipped, only half-heartedly. Bobby gave you a gentle smile as you shivered against the early spring air. You all fell in line behind Dean and awaited your assignments.   

    Two hours into hauling furniture, Garth showed up to give a hand. Unlike Bobby and Benny, who worked directly for Dean at Winchester & Son’s garage, Garth, a long time friend, was an accountant who helped Dean learn the books when John retired. His wife Bess was the kindest person you had ever met.

    You were settled into organizing mode when the guys left to pick up the last round of boxes. Then, the doorbell rang.

     A man stood on the front porch, draped against the doorframe like he had known you for years, tucked into a fitted black suit paired with the softest looking tee shirt you had ever seen. His mischievous eyes crinkled above a flirtatious smirk as he introduced himself.

    “Baz, hi, I’m at the center of the loop. Welcome to the neighborhood, wish it were over better circumstances, but happy to keep it in the family, as it were,” he rolled off before you could even reply. He must be in sales, you thought.

    “Hi,” you gave him your name, finding it easy to smile under his charms.

    “You're the sister-in-law? So where’s brother dearest?” He teased in a tonal accent.

    “Oh you know, sent him to do the heavy lifting. They’ll be back before long.” You stood up straighter.

    “Right, well, we’re having a dinner party next week. It’s kind of a regular thing, we take turns hosting, and my wife’ll kill me if I don’t pass on the invite. Friday at seven? We have cocktails, and get gussied up for one another,” he mentioned passively, but you caught the drift. It wasn’t a backyard barbecue. “It’s all a bit pretentious if you ask me-- Well, who am I kidding, right?”

    You couldn’t help but giggle a bit at his expense. “It sounds great--- Bash?”

    “Baz,” his voice sizzled along the last letter.

    “Baz, sorry. Uh, I’ll have to check with Dean, but I don’t think we have anything going on.” You gave him your best customer smile.

    “How about I’ll just pop back when you’re better settled? I didn’t mean to pressure you, love,” Baz waved as he backed off the porch.

    “You’re fine, really,” you apologized. “It’s just the first day, a lot to sort out.”

    “Of course! Take your time. Right, well, I’ll be seeing you, ta ta,” Baz waved with a tight lipped grin.

      You closed the door and exhaled. That was more than you had heard from your neighbors in the three years you had lived at your last place. It was kind of exciting getting an invitation on the first day, now if you could just convince your husband to go. But Dean didn’t really get ‘gussied up’ for much.

      Dean found you in the kitchen, kneeling on the counters as you sorted the plates. There was so much space, everything was able to get its own shelf. You heard him start the tap, just out of your line of sight. Quickly, you sensed his amusement as you continued to stack and place the piles by size.

    “Don’t laugh at me, it’s easier this way,” you said without looking at him. When he didn’t reply, you grew curious to what he was up to, slowly you turned around to find him leaning against the island which held the double sink, eyes firmly on your ass. You sighed, but leered back at him, down to just his t-shirt after the last of your belongings had been unloaded. He wiped his wet lips with the hem of his shirt, flashing the sweaty plane of his abs at you.

    “Don’t mind me, carry on,” Dean sassed, waving you back to the task at hand.

    It was your turn to roll your eyes, pushing off the counter with an exaggerated arched back. You broke down the box and moved onto the next, knowing Dean was enjoying his water break more than he should.

     “Why don’t you call for pizza? Get the guys fed for all their help,” you suggested as you climbed back up to stock another set of cabinets, this time with glassware.

     Dean nodded before he finished off the last of his water. As he scrolled through his phone for a number, you remembered your visitor.

     “Babe? You got anything going on on Friday?” You watched him think.

     “No, why?” Dean didn’t look up, brow scrunched in concentration.

     “We were invited to the neighbors’ for a dinner party,” you sing-songed the last words, emphasizing the level of chic.

     “What neighbors?” Dean paused.

      “The ones in the big house in the middle. Baz, was his name. Said they do it a lot and take turns hosting,” you shrugged. “Could be fun. It was nice to be welcomed to the neighborhood.”

     “How long was this guy here?” Dean’s face froze in suspicion.

     “He just stopped by!” You chuckled aghast, but you couldn’t hide the blush Dean’s interrogation had brought back.

     “So, what, he just conveniently shows up to check out the hot new neighbor when he saw us leave?” Dean shook his head and stood straight, squaring off. “I don’t know, sounds like a creepy thing to do.”

     “Shut up, he’s married! He said his wife would kill him if he didn’t extend the invitation. Calm down, would ya?” You hopped down to face him. Dean grumbled and went back to his phone. “Hey?”

     “What?” Dean huffed.

      “I love you.” You placed your chin on his shoulder as he got over his temporary pouting.

       “Yeah?” Dean cocked an eyebrow, and smirked at you.

       “Yep.” You popped the p. 

       “You want the usual?” Dean put his phone to the opposite ear. 

       “Please?” You grinned, as he settled against the sink once more.

         His fingertips swatted the curve of your hip as you walked away.

    You had left an entire room for the empty boxes. Without enough furniture to fill the space and after Sam and Rowena sold off half of theirs to cover the costs of the divorce, it was easy to let the cardboard pile up as the day went on. As you waited for lunch to arrive, you trudged through the living room to drop off another few flattened boxes. 

    Dean asked Benny and Garth to reassemble your bed and the guest bed upstairs, while he and Bobby organized tools and lawn equipment in the garage. You could see Dean and the older man talking through the window in the study, or the current box depot. Your husband had a fantastic profile and you took a few moments to appreciate it.

    Slowly you tore yourself from your reverie and started to break down the remaining intact boxes. You quickly grew overheated and bent over to crack the window. You caught Dean’s eye as you wrenched the stiff windowpane up. He was watching you from the tops of his eyes, mouth open as his tongue played with his top teeth.

    He always had such a sinful mouth.

    The glint of chrome flashed from his window up to yours, the wrenches he was lining up nearly forgotten as you ducked your head out the window, strategically pinning your breasts between your folded arms. He was not shy about taking in the show, his eyes grew dangerous with want. 

     There was a sudden pounding on the front door. Just as quickly as you draped yourself out the window, you rocked back and away from Dean’s hungry glare.

      The beer bottle was cold against your lips as you let the tangy liquid wash down the mouthful of pizza you had practically inhaled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the smell wafted in from off the porch. Best pizza around and you were finally in the delivery radius, suburbia already had its perks.

      “Save some for us, darlin’,” Benny teased, as he cracked off the top to his bottle.

       "Hey, I'm not the one driving anywhere, you get your one, the rest are mine," you sassed back. 

       You took another sip, locking eyes with your husband across the table. He licked his lips before taking a generous swallow of beer. A familiar heat sizzled in his eyes.

       "Good to know who's really in charge," Bobby nudged Garth to hand him his beer, which Garth passed on.

       "I don't want to get drunk," the skinny man reasoned.

       "Yeah, and I don't want to have to call Bess to pick you up," Dean agreed and took the offered beer from Bobby, though his was nearly full.

      "Somebody's ready to celebrate," Bobby teased.

       "They're ready for something," Benny taunted. "A little horizontal mambo seems to be in the cards."

       "It has been a long day, a little might be all he's got left," Bobby agreed.

       You almost spit out your beer as you giggled with their banter. Dean chugged his beer and rolled his shoulders.

          "Mind your business, or I'll have you work late every Friday until I'm sick of looking at ya," Dean said after a faint belch.

          "Yes, sir," Benny nodded, smirking at you with a little wink. You shook your head and sighed. The food quickly disappeared alongside the beer, leaving you all stuffed and lethargic. You rolled your shoulders and followed the guys out through the garage. Dean shook hands goodbye while you leaned against the double wide door frame, smiling and waving. You were grateful for all they had done to get you settled in.

    “Have a good weekend, boys!” you called, watching them climb into the truck. Dean sauntered back to your side, sweat stained shirt rumpled, hair askew, and handsome as ever.

    “Ready to go break in that fancy shower?” he asked, fingertip dragging your hair from your pulse point. A devilish chill ran down your spine, you couldn’t help but shiver from his touch.

    “I am beat, Hot Stuff,” you lamented. “A shower does sound amazing though.”

    “Let’s get you naked, then we’ll see who’s beat,” Dean punned horribly.

    You groaned and then gave him a meager chuckle. “Do you even hear yourself sometimes?”

    “I’m fucking hilarious, it’s one of the reasons you married me,” Dean insisted, leading you back into the house by the small of your back. You stomped through the mudroom and passed the kitchen to the stairs, every step up felt like you had concrete bricks for feet.

    “No rush or anything,” Dean teased, hands firmly on your hips, always so supportive.

    “Why did we buy a two story house?”! You fell dramatically forward, slumped on the landing, with your legs and arms askew like limp noodles. “Can I just nap here first? It’s so far!”

    Dean stood two steps behind you, hands on his hips and bitch face on. “Really?”

    You rolled to your back, knees bent and propped yourself up on your elbows, as if it was the hardest thing in the world. Starring up at his annoyed face, you got creative.

    “Please? Just take a little break with me?” You opened your legs suggestively, seeing his eyes rake over your body before he rolled them in mock annoyance.

    “Five minutes, then I’m getting clean, with or without you,” Dean warned. He fell into the cradle of your thighs, his chest was flush with your heat, as his face burrowed into your cleavage. His arms snaked around your shoulders, holding you up to him like a pillow. It would have been uncomfortable, if he didn’t feel so damn good squishing you into the plush carpet.

    Every inch he touched burned through your clothing, the radiant heat of his body oozing into your tired muscles, turning your blood into molten sludge, pooling at your core. Dean hummed and shifted above you, the tip of his nose teasing a nipple.

    “I can’t wait to fuck you in every room of this house,” Dean murmured, voice husky and full of promise. “Gonna make you scream my name until there is no doubt every inch of this place belongs to me.”

    “To us,” you replied, pulling his face up to look at your lust blown eyes.

    “Just you and me,” Dean agreed, kissing a clothed tit, and then the next. He slid up on his toes until his hard edges crooked against your welcoming curves. Then he kissed you blind.

    You twisted your hands into his hair and the back of his shirt, clinging to him as he sucked every memory of exhaustion from your mind. The satisfaction of a day’s work done and the hope of new beginnings flooded into your already happy existence, filling you with a blissed out giddiness as Dean began to grind his hips against you. You gasped, breaking the kiss, before dragging his shirt over his head.

    He leaned back and placed a swift kiss on your lips. “Five minutes are up.”

    You groaned in dismay as Dean untangled himself from your limbs and climbed the last six steps to the second floor. 

    “You coming or what?” He barked at you, belt already flapping open, erection poking his shorts out of his fly. 

    Dean usually hated shower sex, too many slippery surfaces and not a lot of space to get things done. But now that you had a walk in shower stall, custom-made for his giant brother, Dean had become an enthusiast. 

  �� What started on the stairs, led to him staying dressed on the bottom half until you were completely bare. Then he started the water, letting it get as close to boiling as he could stand and how he knew you liked it. He escorted you under the massive showerhead and pulled back your hair, letting the water soak every inch of your skin. 

    He wouldn’t let you touch him. 

     Then he started to scrub, louva sudsy and soothing over your shoulders, under your arms, around your breasts, leaving the parts that needed him most tight and wanting. Once you were as clean as he was going to let you get, Dean brought out the shampoo, letting you finish, not trusting himself to be gentle enough with your tresses.

     It took him less than five seconds to finally get naked.

     Once your hands reached above your head, Dean started his attack. He lapped one nipple into his hungry mouth as you groaned. Dean watched you the entire time as he mouthed your tits, wanting to push you to the edge as many times as he could get away with.

     Fucking tease.

     Then he moved between your legs, and the way he left parts of you unwashed all made sense. Because he wanted to taste you, not your floral body wash. He fell to his knees and hooked a thigh over his shoulder, leaving rough kisses on each thigh. Back and forth he went until you were dizzy and whimpering. He rinsed his hands and licked his finger tips for good measure, watching you wait for him to get on with it.

     Then he began to stroke your folds. Ever so carefully, he pulled you open, cherishing the way you quaked for him. Your wetness only aiding in the tortuously slow glide of his fingers, front to back, back to front. After more breaths than you could keep track of, Dean pressed into you, two calloused fingers as deep as they could go.

     You grasped his neck, desperate to hold on, because as soon as he would, you needed Dean’s tongue on your throbbing clit.

    “Whoa--- everything alright up there?” Dean said with laughter in his voice.

    “God, fuck, Dean,” you begged.

    “Yeah?”

    “Please, stud, I need you,” you panted, nails digging into his back.

    “Might want to think about how you were acting all day then. Climbing around like a jungle cat. Practically flashing me and Bobby in the garage. Flirting with the neighbors,” Dean tisked at you. “I’m just giving you what you gave me.”

    Then he shut up and put out. That sinful mouth decadently pulled and puckered every inch of flesh, until you were screaming over the torrent of the shower. Once his tongue joined his fingers, you were gone. Liquid heat squeezed out of you as your body shuddered out the aftermath, thanking his skillful digits for their efforts.

    At long last, you were bent in half, hands braced against the intricate tile as he speared into you from behind. Your body fighting to keep the water out, which only pushed Dean to thrust harder against the unrelenting tightness. Your legs were going to give out soon, it was all too much, the warmth of the shower and the way, even on your tiptoes, Dean had to crouch with his bowed legs to hit your sweet spot with every single stroke.

    When he smacked your ass, you faltered, elbows bending and falling forward. He caught you, slowly easing out of your abused cunt, until you were back on steady feet. You turned to kiss his pink lips, still heady with your juices. Carefully Dean reached behind you to turn off the water, brushing his chest against yours. You reached up and pinched his nipple. In return, he let his hand drop down to cup your mound, tapping a gentle rhythm across your slit.

    “Ready for that nap, now?” He offered, kissing your temple.

    “Definitely.

    You spent the rest of the weekend unpacking and screwing, just like Dean wanted: in every room of the house.

    He ate you out as a pre-breakfast in bed, first thing Sunday morning, slow and dirty. The noises that came from his plush lips made you writhe just as much as the work his tongue put in. You sucked him off while he made you a proper meal, but only during the prep work as bacon spatter is nothing to toy with.

    You rode him while he tried to watch opening week baseball highlights in your new living room, your bare legs deliciously smooth against the leather of the couch. He took your ass after he watched you doing laundry, bending down to pull the hot towels out of the dryer was too much for him. So, he dragged you up stairs to a spare bedroom, licked you clean and then worked you twice over before slamming home and filling you filthy.

    Moving was the best idea you’d ever had. You loved the house and couldn’t wait to get to know your neighbors. Life was good, you just didn’t realize it could get even better.

Tagging: @dolphincliffs @fangirlxwritesx67 @foxyjwls007 @akshi8278 @dontshootmespence @smi727 @ericaprice2008 @deandreamernp @mrswhozeewhatsis @itmighthavebeenintentional

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2020 Kink Bingo Masterlist

[vetrubius]

ANONYMOUS AFFECTION

CHAPTER 2: DECEPTION POINT

W.C: 1,666

Summary: Y/N L/N is a 24 year old bartender who owns a small bar. The usual life of hers is about to change after meeting the Hero Associations Chairman, Izuku Midoriya. She’s in charge of the afterparty of the Sports Festival for the Hero Association. Watch her as she falls in love gracefully with one of the strongest hero.

A/N: Chapter 2, y’all! Planning to do a little smau too in the consequent chapters.

Warnings and genre: Angst, Fluff, Cigarette smoke, Alcohol, Cheating, mention of gun once, headache, phone conversations, texts.

The two of you sigh looking up at the smokey ceiling. “That was good,” you say, exhaling the smoke. “Maybe it’s been a while that’s why.” he hypothesizes taking the cigarette from your hand “when was the last time we fucked anyway?”. “I guess it’s been a week” answer rolling to face him. His yellow hair falling on his sides, the lips parted slightly to remove the smoke through his mouth, his yellow eyes staring up at the ceiling. He looked so sinful. But it seemed like he was in a different state altogether. Thinking about something else. “Hey” you whisper near his ear, licking the lobe of it. “You seem to like doing that for some reason. It’s….ugh” his body shivered down to the last bit. You could sense his arm hair rising and his cock slowly but painfully erecting again. He decided to latch on to your lips and bite your bottom one hard. “Somebody’s wanting some more.” he growls against your chin.

Your intimate moment with Denki is broken by your phone ringing from the hall. “Ah don’t go,  babe” he whined “I’ll be back in a while, wait.” You say gently smiling at him, giving him reassurance. You got up quickly, grabbed your dressing gown and sprinted towards the noise point. Just a second before you reach, you see the phone on silent again. “Iida..” you murmur as you see three missed calls from him. At… 3 am? Shouldn’t he be sleeping right now? You don’t waste any time calling him back, making your way to the small balcony and simultaneously tightening the drawstring around your waist. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I called to tell you that the boss agreed for the afterparty at the bar.” 

“That’s really great!  Was it tough convincing him about the small place?” 

“No, not one bit. He was kinda into the idea.”

“Alright. That’s a plus one. Thank you Iida. You really saved my ass here.” 

“Nah, there’s a slight problem.”

“What?”

“He wants me to organise it on the 25th of November.”

-silence-

“Isn’t that a week?”

“Yeah”

“I need an advance payment for that. I’ll forward you my bank account details. And if I have any problems, I’ll call you.”

“Alright, will do. Why are you up right now anyway?” 

“If you know, you know. I hear cars behind you. Still at work?”

“Shifts getting over at 8 am.”

“Iida, you should make time for Uraraka.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Don’t you think she’ll be getting lonely? She needs you too, you know?”

“I know but she gets it. Anyway, get back to your...ahem….work” 

“You too! Do good and take care.”

“Bye-bye!!” 

As soon as the call ended, you felt the sudden urge to go back to the bar. You’d come to Denki’s place to hook up a lot of times, majorly because your room was a mezzanine right above the bar. So the two of you would never get any privacy. But right now, all you cared about was going back and attending the bar. You made your way to Denki’s room and opened the door slightly. “Den-” your eyes were met by him fast asleep with soft snores. You took your clothes, your white shirt and trousers, rolled them and dumped them in your handbag. “These will need washing, I’ll just take something from his closet.” You took the white t-shirt and a pair of track pants, and made your way to the bathroom. Tying your hair up into a half ponytail, you get out of the washroom and go to his room again. 

You put his blanket over him and exited his house with only one thing in mind. The bar. 

The walk from Denki’s house is barely 20 minutes and you love the city more in the early morning where you see either drunks or joggers. You unlock the bar gate and step inside being welcomed to the darkness again.  It’s not like you mind it but you would feel better coming back home to someone. Someone other than an empty stage and ghosts of your customers. As you finish washing the empty dishes and taking another smoke break, you start making your way up to the mezzanine. Your thoughts of sleeping are disrupted by the metal door bell ringing, showing the door opening of the bar. “I’m sorry we’re clo-” you announce, annoyed as you turn to see who the person was. The two stare into the strangers' green eyes. His green hair in motion with his face, his hands scavenging to remove the mask off his face and get as much oxygen he could consume.” 

“Hey, are you okay?” you start making your way down the steps towards him with concern. He put a finger up, gesturing you to wait. After he’d caught his breath, he stripped his mask off his face completely and looked at you. “I know you’re closed but there was this weird guy chasing me, I needed a safe space,” he said “could I have a little water please?”. Great. There goes your sleep. Tossed right in the dustbin. But right now you need to take care of him. “Ah fuck it” you murmur as you fill a glass of water from the sink and make your way towards him. 

He was as tall as you but his muscles were definitely popping. “Thank you so much.” he said chugging the water down, handing you the glass back and grinned. You have to admit he was pretty cute with that devious grin. “What are you doing out so late anyway?” you asked going behind the bar and sitting on the barstool, indicating him to join you on the table. “Well, I was jogging and as I said before, I saw this weird guy chasing me. I’m pretty sure he had a gun or something.” He said as he walked over and made himself comfortable on the stool, his eyes scanning the large shelf of bottles behind you. “Yeah, I’m the bartender and the owner of this place. Just stay for 15 minutes and leave. I’m tired” you say as your head dips between your crossed arms on the table and you feel your eyes drooping against the cold granite. “Thank you for letting me be here. My name is-” is the last thing you hear before your flake out.

.

.

.

“Y/N?” Iida shakes you gently. “Y/N, wake up.” he said, patting your head slightly. “Mhm….” you stir,  groaning while twisting your body and feeling your numb hands. Still faded out, you look at Iida with the drool dripping down on one side of your face. “Time?” your raspy voice manages to choke. “It’s 11 am. You didn’t pick my calls up so I figured that you forgot to open the bar for breakfast again. Wake up, there are customers outside,” he said, signalling the door “oh, and here’s a note I found under that glass there” he shuffles through his pocket and hands it to you. “Anyway, I don’t have time. I’m already late to wake your stupidass up.” Iida said, walking towards the door. “Have a nice day.” is what you manage to choke out before rushing to brush, change and keep the bar running again. You kept your note on the nightstand, as you went ahead with your day. I’ll read that later. 

.

.

.

.

12 midnight rolled by quicker than you thought. You bid farewell to the last customers and put the closed board outside the bar. Your day had been hectic; the usual breakfast people, cleaning floors and washing dishes in the afternoon, making a list of the things you needed at the party while contacting people and other things while dealing with a splitting headache. Taking care of this place really covers the exercises you don’t do. Wrapping things up, you made your way to your room and recollected the note Iida gave you. You entered the room and turned the lights on and looked at your phone and desk. Picking up the paper, you start reading it. 

“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to thank you since you passed out of the table lol. Anyway, here’s my number, text me once you wake up: +81 xxxxx xxxxx.” 

Keeping the paper down, you pick your phone up to text him and you’re greeted with multiple texts from Ochako, Iida and Denki which you ignore and type in the number in your new message.

While you’re at it, you decide to open Denki’s text too.

After you press send to Kaminari, you think a little. Maybe I should surprise him a little. You wear your garter and stockings on your legs and slip on your track pants, and an olive lacey bra and throw on a hoodie. You take a big chug of whiskey kept on the bar shelf once your feet hit the ground floor. “Oh, he’s definitely in for a treat” you giggle and talk to yourself as you make your way downstairs and out the door. 

You walk in the cold listening to Rude Boy by Rihanna (because why not) to pump yourself up for getting your back injured tonight. You make a left towards Denki’s lane and skip a little. Maybe I’m actually having feelings again. I guess this might work. You giggle realising how much Iida would disapprove of it. Maybe scold you a little for being irresponsible for letting yourself develop a little something for each other. But he’d wish you all the happiness in the world nevertheless. 

You make your way up in the lift to his apartment. The doors part open and you see a new pair of shoes outside his house. Damn, he didn’t tell me he had guests. You unlock the door and walk into the house. Your eyes are greeted by clothes thrown all across the floor. Womens clothes. You freeze. The sounds coming from the room verifies your thoughts. Someone else? You try to process your scattered thoughts and move your numb body towards the door. Each step feels in sync with the moans from the room. You push the door a little to see inside. Only for your eyes to drop to her.

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[mrsalwayswrite]

Aes Sídhe (Finan x Reader) Part 1

This is my first time writing for The Last Kingdom fandom! I have adored the show since it came out but have always been too nervous to try and write for it. This idea came to mind though and would not leave me alone...so here it is.

Can be read as reader or OFC since there is no real description given. 

I want to thank @geekandbooknerd​ and @medievalfangirl​ for your own amazing Finan writings. I am slightly embarrassed how many times I have gone back and reread them.  

In regards to the title: from my understanding (granted I could be very wrong), an aes sídhe is an Irish term for a supernatural race in Irish and Scottish mythology, similar to fairies and elves.

Warnings: None

Words:2k

PART 2

Finan rose from his spot near the campfire. The sun had not yet set but Uhtred decided to make camp early. Not that Finan was complaining. They had been riding hard for days, heading back to Wintanceaster with news for King Alfred. 

 "Where are you off to?"

 Finan glanced over at Osferth, who was laying on his side across from the campfire. "I'm going to wash my hands."

 "You'll need to wash more than your hands to not smell like a pig sty." 

 "Oi! What was that, baby monk?" Finan tossed his blanket at the lad, the others around the fire smiling. "Do not lament my absence too much!" He started walking towards the nearby creek, away from their campsite. 

 "What would we miss? Life is quieter without you."

 "I HEARD THAT, SIHTRIC!" 

The sound of laughter followed the Irishman as he carefully made his way down the steep bank to the creek. Only a few paces of rocky sand separated the creek from the steep bank, which surrounded and kept the creek easily hidden. The last of the sunlight peeked through the trees all around. The forest was quiet, the only noises were the bubbling creek and the distant sound of those still around the campfire. 

 They had decided to camp above and some paces from the creek. It would have been impossible to maneuver the horses down the steep banks and being camped above allowed them to stand watch unencumbered. The only downfall was having to carry water up for the horses. Yet having watched Osferth douse himself when he tripped was worth it. The memory still made Finan chuckle. 

 Dropping down the last part of the steep bank, he moved to the edge of the creek. The small rocks and sand gave way under his boots. He splashed the cool water over his face and hands then took a moment to watch the droplets fall from his beard back into the creek. If the water had been deeper, he would have stripped down to fully cleanse himself. Alas, it was too shallow but even just cleaning what he could felt refreshing from the dust and sweat of the road.  

 With a sigh, he allowed the memories he venomously ignored to come forth. This place, the creek bed and the trees, the stillness and the sunlight...it reminded him of a favorite spot from his childhood. Where his brother and himself would sneak away to go looking for faerie mounds or kelpies, much to their mother's dismay. A lighter time. An easier time...before betrayal. 

 Harshly, he shoved the memories back and closed the lid on them. It did no good to think about them. He was here now. He was happy here. Uhtred was a brother he was bonded to and would readily give his life for. Sihtric and even Osferth were like younger brothers he looked out for. Clapa was a good friend. It was better he was here. 

 A soft plop in the water made him look up. He knew it was most likely an animal coming to drink or a rock sliding to cause the sound but long years of being a warrior and always on alert forced him to constantly be aware of his surroundings. 

 What he saw forcibly drew the breath from his lungs in a gasp. 

 A woman knelt on a large stone, several paces away and across the creek from him. With one hand dipped in the water making slow circles, she watched the ripples as if lost in thought. Her hair was draped over one shoulder, a yellow kingcup flower tucked behind her ear. With her face exposed, her ethereal beauty was on full display for him to bare witness to. There was nothing about her that would not cause the darkest envy in other women and the strongest lust in all men. She was beauty incarnate. A creature not of this world. 

 He was unable to remove his eyes, nor move or call out, spellbound to only her. 

 Suddenly she looked up and locked eyes with him. A noose around his neck would have had less of a binding hold on him. Her eyes both pierced and soothed his soul. Her very being a vision that summoned him as a man possessed. Yet he could not move nor break her enchantment. They stared at one another; eyes locked from across the creek. 

 Ever so slowly she stood up and it was only then he took into account what she was wearing. A thin, white shift covered her, but with the fading sunlight behind her, it was almost transparent. Her outline and curves caressed by the fabric, an enticement and illusion. Never had he witnessed a woman more perfect. 

 "Are...are you alright, my lady?" His words broke the spell, his tongue finally recalled how to function. But as soon as the words were released, he would have given anything to return them. 

 After one slow blink of those captivating eyes, she fled. Moving as silently and quickly as a shadow, she jumped off the rock and hurried away on the other side of the creek. Neither rocks nor sticks hindered her bare feet. 

 "Wait!" He cried out, stumbling over himself as he gave chase. He ran opposite of her, trying to keep her in his sights lest she vanish and he awaken from this dream. 

 She followed a bend in the creek, darting between two trees that stood sentry on the edge. Uncaring of his clothing, he darted across the creek, the water only reaching mid-calf.  When he crossed over and rounded the bend, desperate for a glimpse of her, only the tranquil sight of the forest and creek lay before him. His eyes scoured everywhere, trying to catch a glimpse of her. There were no footprints his trained eyes could see, no markings that anyone had passed by. He scratched the back of his neck as he turned around once again, hoping he had missed something. 

 Yet there was nothing. She had vanished. 

 With a reluctant sigh, he turned to head back to camp. He had been gone long enough the others would question him. A bright spot of color amongst the dull colors of the rocks caught his eye. Moving closer he found a small bush of the kingcup flowers. Gently he stroked one of the many flowers' petals, remembering how they looked in her hair. On a whim, he plucked three and walked back to the stone she had knelt on. 

 "For you, aes sídhe." He whispered laying them down reverently. The bright yellow stood out on the gray stone, like the sun shining through on a cloudy day. 

 Looking around him once more, he crossed the creek and headed back towards camp. The further he walked, the more he began to question what he saw. A pinch to the arm proved he was not dreaming. Could it have been some kind of vision? He doubted that. He was not holy enough nor had enough drink to induce one. 

 "There he is!"

 "Thought you had finally drown."

 Finan threw himself on the ground next to his pack, ignoring the teasing of Osferth and Sihtric. He rubbed a hand over his beard and stared at the sky as the first few stars appeared in the sky. He could not get the image of her out of his head. So beautiful and pure. 

 A tickling in his ear brought his attention back to the present. He swatted at his ear and looked over to discover Uhtred next to him, a long blade of grass in hand and hovering over his head. 

 "What is bothering you?"

 Finan sat up, his arms over his knees. "Aes sídhe."

 "What?"

 "Nothin'. Thought I had seen somethin' at the water."

 Uhtred's brows furrowed slightly, trying to decipher his friend's meaning. "Well while you think, you have first watch. We drew straws earlier and you lost." He slapped Finan on the back. 

 "Sihtric rigged it."

 "Lies!" Sihtric threw a clump of dirt at a chuckling Osferth. "It was Fate that chose."

 "Why are you always throwing stuff at me?" Osferth whined, wiping the dirt mark off his robes. 

 "You deserve it."

 Uhtred spoke. "It would seem we need to work on your reflexes."

 "Yes, lord." Osferth sighed, eyes downcast. 

 "Don't worry, baby monk, I know what will help. We will take turns throwing knives at you. Eventually you'll dodge them."

 Osferth groaned. 

 With a clap on Uhtred's shoulder, Finan got up to settle against a tree nearby that offered a better spot for watching the camp and its surroundings. In truth he did not mind being on first watch tonight. With memories of her, clinging to him like summer's heat, he knew sleep would elude him. He tried to push the thoughts of her aside but to no avail. In truth he doubted he would ever be able to forget her. 

 ***

 The next morning, a rough kick to his back woke him. He groaned, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes as he sat up. 

 "I never thought you one for flowers, Finan." Sihtric said, walking to the other side of the camp. 

 "What?"

 Osferth piped up, head swiveling, looking from Finan to Sihtric. "Or perhaps it is from a special lady?"

 "What lady is around here besides the horses?" Sihtric snorted. 

 "Maybe it is a horse?"

 "What are ya fools talkin' about?" Finan eyed the smirks on the faces of those around him. His mind refused to fully abandon the land of dreams. There had been something... something on the edge of his consciousness but he could not recall it now. 

 "Behind you." Uhtred nodded towards Finan's pack. 

 Unsure, he looked to his pack on his other side…and froze. The kingcup flowers lay next to where his head had just been, but this time, a thin white strip of fabric bound the flowers together. Hesitantly he reached out and touched the flowers then fabric, in awe when he could feel their texture beneath his fingers.

 She was not a dream or vision. 

 Without warning he rose to his feet and scanned around him. He ignored the confused looks of his companions. Only on a second scan did he glimpse something. On further inspection, it was the slightest indent of footprints amongst the grasses. It was too small to be any of Uhtred's men. Plus, the blades were barely bent by whose feet stepped on them, they would have been easy to miss. 

 "Finan?"

 He realized he looked like a madman, first startled by flowers and searching for a sign around them. He stood up, arms crossed when he turned back. "Yes, lord?"

 "Something amiss?"

 He wondered if he should tell them. Their camp had been infiltrated and no one knew it. Yet as he opened his mouth, the words died on his tongue. 

 "No, I just...it must have been a dream."

 "If you say." The Dane-Slayer did not look like he fully believed his friend but would let it go this time. "We leave soon."

 Ignoring those around him, he knelt in front of his pack. Memories of her, still so sharp even after sleep, came forth unaided. He gently touched the white strip of cloth, reminiscent of her thin shift. Had she torn the strip from it?  Before the others could notice, he stuck the flowers in his pack and the cloth up his arm-guard.  

 He looked one last time towards the creek. "Go dtí go mbuailfimid le chéile arís, mo aes sídhe." (Until we meet again, my aes sídhe.)

 "WE RIDE!" Uhtred called then sent his horse into a canter, his men following him loyally. 

 Finan could not help one last glance over his shoulder. If he thought he caught a glimpse of a white shift and a form peeking out from between the trees, he could not prove it. He turned back to following the others. In his mind he prayed that this would not be the last time he saw her. 

[piracytheorist]

A Kiss for Good Luck (8/15)

Summary: So this is the story of one born lucky, and one born unlucky. Fate will keep making them cross paths, but is it to bring them together, or to test them? Captain Swan AU.

A/N: This will hurt. I am sorry.

Rating: T (make sure you’re okay with the warnings on AO3) Warnings: This chapter contains character death, some depictions of violence, depictions of poor and unhealthy coping mechanisms, as well as a toxic relationship. Any intercourse and physical touch in general is fully consensual, but emotionally the relationship may appear upsetting to some. Also there are some elements that may resemble emotional self-harm.

Word count for this chapter: 4k (48k in total) AO3

Read from the beginning: Tumblr | AO3

~

Chapter 8: Killian Jones, October 19th 2011 – October 24th 2015

The kiss is deeper than he expected. Killian pushes the woman back, but gently. He was the one who gave her permission to kiss him, after all.

"I thought it would be a quick kiss. I have a girlfriend."

Her brows are going wild. "Shit. Sorry."

He's so stupid. What would Milah think? "'Salright. Go pee."

"Yes. That,” she slurs. “Thank you again."

Just as the woman closes the bathroom door behind her, Milah appears above him.

“You okay?” she says.

He looks at her confused, before he realizes it's not that normal to sit on the floor while at a club. “Yeah,” he says. “Just very, very drunk.”

She gives him her hand, he takes it, then she starts pulling at him. “Let's go outside for some air. There's too much smoke in here.”

“I wanna pee!”

She drags him up. “You can pee outside! Let's go!”

It feels better outside. The cool, clean air wakes him up a bit.

Milah throws her arms around Killian's neck and pulls him to lean his forehead on hers. He smells the martini in her breath, landing hot against his lips.

He closes his eyes. He could stay like this forever, and how he wishes this moment lasted that long...

“How sweet,” a sharp voice says from the side.

They turn together to see Gold staring at them, his hands crossed on the handle of his cane. There's two big guys flanking him, and Killian pulls Milah aside, stepping in front of her.

“What do you want?” Killian says.

“I did wait,” Gold says. “I held back, let you take my wife away from me.”

“Shut up,” Milah says, moving to Killian's side. “Our marriage was over long before I met Killian.”

Gold looks at her, hand grabbing the cane hard.

“You... you followed us here?” Milah says, suddenly realizing. “What the hell? Where's Jack?”

“You have no right to ask about him,” Gold says and takes a brisk step forward. “You went against my conditions for meeting him. You brought that bastard with you!”

Milah flinches, and Killian's left hand grabs onto hers.

“And you?” Gold looks at him. “Going behind my back to take my son on your side? Trying to buy his love?” His face seems to barely contain his rage as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a handgun.

Killian's hand squeezes Milah's as his other one raises up in defense. “Whoa, Gold, wait-”

Gold shoots.

Though Killian’s ears are ringing from the exploding sound, he hears Milah's trembling sigh. It feels like it's hours later that he turns to look at her, eyes going straight for the growing red spot on her chest.

And then she's falling.

“No,” he whispers and holds her, gently breaking her fall.

Her eyes are moving wildly, then she coughs and a thin trail of blood runs from the corner of her lips.

“No, no. Milah...”

She focuses on him. “I love you,” she whispers. She gasps one last time, then she's limp in his arms.

It's like even more hours pass. He feels her hot blood staining his hands.

Her eyes are closed. She's not breathing. Only her blood moves, dripping out of her body even though her heart has stopped beating.

“No,” he says.

He hears the tapping sound of a cane, and he looks up to see Gold standing above him, gun aimed at him. His henchmen also aim their handguns at him.

“What are you waiting for?” Killian says. “Finish it.”

What else can he say? It's not as if he'd leave him to tell the tale.

“Oh, no. You won't be so lucky,” Gold says, but he doesn't move.

Killian manages to hold himself back only long enough to set Milah down gently, then he lunges at Gold, grabbing the gun.

It all happens in half a second.

Gold shoots, Killian's ears are ringing again, and he sees two fingers fly off in a sudden fountain of blood.

He drops down to his knees. His left hand hangs limp in a way no hand should. The thumb and index finger are missing, and there's a gaping crescent hole, starting under his middle finger and reaching to the middle of his wrist.

The pain hits him suddenly and a scream erupts from his throat.

His vision comes and goes; one moment Gold is standing above him, the next Killian is leaning over Milah, the blood spilling from his hand onto her unmoving body.

There's more people screaming; people shouting; sirens, blue and red lights...

Then white. So much white.

Killian is just three days younger of twenty-eight when he once again thinks how he's cursed.

Milah is dead, there is no doubt about that. His hand was amputated, and he has to spend a whole week in the hospital before the doctors clear him for a transatlantic flight.

In the meantime he learns that Milah's body was sent back to England, per Gold's request.

At first, he finds it impossible; but the cops who'd questioned him about the assault soon inform him that Gold has solid alibi in London at the time of the murder.

Killian almost shuts down in the week he has to spend in there; Gold must have stolen Killian's phone before fleeing the scene of the crime, and Killian has no way of contacting Nemo, and he didn't let him know the specifics of his trip in the first place, like when exactly his return trip would’ve been.

If Nemo had known, he would have worried after not getting any news from Killian the day he was supposed to return. He would have contacted hospitals, would have found out about the assault. Probably would even honor Killian's request to attend Milah's funeral in his place, if Killian had the guts to actually ask him for that.

And to top it all, Nemo's phone at home is out of order. Why didn't he ever bother memorizing his cell phone? Now all Killian can do is lie in his hospital bed and do his damnedest to avoid looking at where his left hand is no more.

The blasted week goes by; Killian spends the rest of his savings into a new return trip, the only one he can afford has two stops in between.

He's dead tired, hungry, with fresh dog crap under his sole, and somehow he's not surprised to see his apartment has flooded.

It's three in the morning and he contemplates walking through the ankle-deep water anyway and collapsing in his bed.

He stands so long in front of the open door of his apartment that eventually the downstairs neighbor comes to complain about water dripping into his place.

One call to the fire department later, Killian picks up his two bags – he didn't have the heart to throw Milah's stuff away – and takes a taxi to Nemo's place.

Nemo obviously got out of bed to let Killian in, and of course, he asks Killian what happened.

It's like he's seventeen again, unable to react to one of the most life-changing news he ever received, only the opposite, in the most grim way that he never dared imagine.

He's hiding his handless arm inside his jacket pocket and silently walks the stairs up to his old bedroom. He doesn't answer Nemo's questions next morning, he doesn't even sit down to get breakfast. He goes straight to the lawyer Milah had during her divorce.

Gold is paying people to give false testimony, and Killian is gonna take him down.

Too consumed in his own hatred for the man, the whole week he spent planning his comeback he didn't think of the problems the lawyer is listing now; Killian was drunk – as evidenced by hospital records – enough for his testimony to be considered debatable; he also has motive to want to get back at Gold, stronger than Gold's motive to kill his unfaithful wife three whole years post their divorce which concluded in his favour; and of course, one has to prove first that Gold's witnesses are lying before questioning Gold's alibi of more than five thousand kilometers away from the scene of the crime.

Killian doesn't return to Nemo's place. His own apartment stinks, damp and moldy, half of his furniture and appliances were ruined, but at least his bed is functioning, and he can't deal with Nemo's sympathy right now.

He needs to take Gold down. He can't have any more distractions.

It takes him a month to remember his therapist. He checks his emails for the first time since the assault, and he feels he loses another part of him at the news of his therapist moving towns to study for a doctorate; she's suggested other therapists at him, followed by two more emails of asking if everything is okay, then nothing.

Killian looks at the names and phones of the suggested therapists as if they're threats to his consciousness. He actually laughs. Dr. Eriksen had him since before he was even an adult and she knew everything about his fucked-up adolescence. Where would he even begin with someone new?

He deletes the email.

For two years, his whole life centers around finding weak spots in Gold's armour. He quits from Shakespeare's boat rental and works at stock in the harbor. It's a tough, time-consuming job, but it keeps him in view of the sea and gets his mind off his pain. Alcohol takes over that job in his time off.

He stops drawing; Milah used to draw with him and it nearly breaks him to pick up a pencil to sketch. The last thing he sketches is the design for the tattoo with her name on it that is soon permanently inked on his arm.

Two years of trying, as much as his exhausted psyche and a mind always leaning towards booze can handle, and the best he manages is to break into Gold's house, hack through his computer and locate some suspicious activity between Gold's bank account and the one of one of his witnesses.

Thirteen years of no spots in his criminal record mean nothing to the law when there are spots in it in the first place, and he's arrested for breaking and entering.

Nemo responds to Killian's call to bail him out, even though Killian has barely spoken to him in two years. However, the disappointment is, for the first time since Killian met him, visible on his face.

“It's your decision,” Nemo tells him after Killian is out. “Your path to choose, and your life to ruin.”

If it were anyone else, Killian would be flipping him off. But Nemo is the one who took Killian in as an assortment of broken pieces and put him back together, loving and patient all throughout. The one who has always been too good to be called a mere father.

“It's not just wanting to get back at that bastard,” Killian says, nearly shouting. At Nemo's small flinch, Killian breathes in and out. Among all his losses, it's the first one that has filled him with such rage. “That monster killed her in cold blood. And he's out there now, not paying for his crime-”

His voice is too unsteady now to accommodate shouting.

“It's not just personal. He killed her-” A soft sob breaks his sentence in half. “-and he's walking free.”

“The world is not fair,” Nemo says in a very soft voice, hand resting on Killian's shoulder. “Come home, son. This isn't what you need right now.”

“No. I need to see him behind bars.”

“You need to grieve.”

Killian scoffs, laughing mirthlessly. “It's been two years.”

“Exactly.”

He drops his gaze. If he looks at Nemo's face right now, he may crumble, and his efforts of two years – albeit not very successful – will be rendered pointless. The time he lost, the damage he's done to himself, to his relationships with everyone, Nemo, Shakespeare, Will and Tink, it will all be for nothing.

And worst of all, he'll be yet another one who will do Milah wrong. If he gives up, he'll be doing to her nothing better than what Gold did, and the very thought sickens him.

There's only one thing he changes. His drinking has reached new levels, and he needs, if nothing else, to survive in order to bring Gold down. So for now, AA meetings are something.

At first, he only talks about how he manages to stay clean, how he slips and how he tries to not beat himself up over it. His fifth meeting is on a particularly bad day; the story of watching the love of his life die slips from him, and across the circle he gets looks of pity that he hates.

If only he told everyone about the furious thoughts for revenge on Milah's murderer that have been plaguing his every waking thought for the past two years.

He slumps in his seat and stays silent for the rest of the meeting. He shouldn't have come today, he should have known he would be too emotional to think rationally before speaking.

The meeting ends and he's already made up his mind to look into other AA groups before he even exits the building.

“Excuse me,” a voice calls at him.

He turns. It's Eloise Gardener, one of the attendees.

“On the last meeting you mentioned that mental activities keep your thoughts away,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“I'm hosting gardening classes, two evenings a week at the Bare Feet Greenhouse. I thought I could invite you to join, they're already quite cheap and I'll give you a discount.”

“Your name is Gardener, innit?”

She smiles. “And I am a gardener. Shocking, I know. But I've found it's a good distraction, especially knowing you're taking care of a life. You get the satisfaction without committing to... raising a child, let's say.”

Killian decides it's worth a try; unlike the AA meetings, raising a plant actually has visible proof of progress.

He stops coming to the meetings, but Eloise doesn't ask him why. She teaches him and guides him through providing a good environment for his plants.

One night after class, she helps him move the pots with his grown plants to his apartment. He doesn't truly invite her in, and when she initiates a kiss with him, he takes a few seconds of thinking before he realizes he doesn't mind that much.

It's just fuck, and Eloise doesn't seem to be thinking it's anything deeper than he does.

If he thinks it's any deeper, he'll just be haunted again by that miserable thought, that the last person he kissed before Milah died was not Milah herself, but a random stranger whose face he wasn't even sober enough to remember.

Eloise leaves and within minutes, he's left as well to search for any open store that sells booze. Rain is pouring down, cars splash him until he's soaking wet, but he finally gives up when he trips and falls, his leg hurting too much to take him too much further.

Even the couple of hours he stays in the hospital while they put a walking cast on him feel unbearable. Two years have gone by and the memories of hospital misery are still too raw.

Eloise doesn't comment on the cast nor his continued absence from the AA meetings. She invites him to her place and after they have sex he asks if he can stay the night. That way it's much easier to avoid looking for a drink to deal with how disgusted he feels.

Even the other people attending the gardening lessons wouldn't imagine Eloise and Killian are sleeping together – and Killian is attending two different classes side by side. Not that there's anything to show for it. They just fuck, sleep in the same bed, and that's all. She keeps him from running out for a drink in the middle of the night, better than any AA meeting managed, he gives her a person to have control over the way she wants, and they scratch each other's itches.

Nemo keeps trying to stay in touch with him, and Killian nearly blocks his number out of pure shame. Perhaps if Nemo realizes he's been blocked he'll stop bothering.

Killian has practically moved in with Eloise now, or she with him; in any case, they'll sleep in the same bed every night, whether it's the one in Killian's apartment or the one in Eloise's house.

He cannot connect who he was before with who he is with Eloise now. Before Nemo even adopted him officially, Killian had allowed him to pick up his pieces and make him a functional human. With Milah, it was Killian who was the whole, the rock she could lean on.

With Eloise, he can once again be broken, but without any expectation to get fixed back up – and he's too tired for unrealistic expectations. He can stay the mess that he is, sharing his body and his space with her so that he can feel something, even when the feeling isn't the best. Eloise is controlling and demanding, and Killian's feelings for her range from fear to disgust, but he prefers those over pain, grief, rage, and a continuously burning thirst.

It's easier to hate his... “partner” than to hate everything else in his life, including himself.

He's actually shocked to realize two years have passed since his first time with Eloise, and nothing at all has changed. Their feelings didn't change towards one way or another; they just kept fucking, sleeping next to each other, and going by their day without thinking about each other.

He almost hates it when she asks him to ride with her to a concert in Maidstone. Not only because she's making ensuring no-one assaults her sound like a chore, but also because he's still not ready to enjoy music he used to love. Especially not in her presence. Being in her company is not a circumstance that fits happy thoughts.

There's a lot of things he's been denying himself since Milah died. Everything that used to make him happy, even the company of his family, feels sullied now.

He doesn't expect to enjoy the concert. But Eloise buys his ticket and drives the car, so he decides that he can tolerate one night of being a boy toy to discourage sleazebags.

It doesn't even feel that special that his birthday is tomorrow; he lost Liam a few days after his fifteenth birthday, and Milah a few days before his twenty-eighth. Maybe it's just not in the cards for him to celebrate it again.

For three whole hours, he forgets everything. There's just the music, and the lights, and his throat getting sore from singing without a care.

There is, of course, the occasional groping, people stepping on his feet, even getting an elbow to the ribs, but for him it's all par of the course now. Including checking his pockets afterwards and realizing that twenty pounds are missing. And Eloise being... well, Eloise.

“You were supposed to stand by my side,” she starts complaining after the concert is over and people start dispersing.

“I can assure you I was touched against my consent far more than you were.”

“Is that supposed to be an excuse?”

Ugh, her arrogant, calm face she makes when she tells him off. He hates it.

“If you wanted an actual bodyguard, you should have hired one. I only have one hand,” he bites back at her.

“Really? I get you a birthday gift and you consider this an appropriate response.” There’s no question mark in her tone.

“Oh, piss off. As if you've given a fuck about my birthday all these years.”

Her lips purse together, but her voice keeps that cool tenor that irritates him to no end. “I wanted to make it a good one for you. Just because you don't care about it doesn't mean no-one else does.”

He sighs. He actually had a good time and he doesn't want it ruined by her gaslighting. He's experienced people actually caring for his birthday, and he knows Eloise's words are just words. Next, she'll say that she contacted Scorpions themselves and asked them to have a concert the day before his birthday.

She shakes her head and goes for the portable toilets. At last, he can have some time on his own. He turns his head away and back to the scene, now completely empty.

No One Like You wasn't exactly the song he liked the most tonight, but it's the one he can't stop humming. He's humming!

Maybe he does owe Eloise a bit. Just a bit.

"Catchy tune, huh?" he hears from the side.

He turns, seeing a woman with a wide smile on her face.

"Oh, which one isn't?" he says, smiling back. "What a night."

The woman nods. "Did you have fun?"

The words pour out of him like vomit. "A lot of people stepped on me, I got groped, pick-pocketed, and I got in a fight with my...” – How should he call her? – “friend, but you know what?" He shrugs. "Bloody worth it."

"Oh.” Her face softens. “Sorry that you were mugged."

"Ah, it was like, twenty quid. I've known better than to carry credit cards where hands can easily reach." A very dedicated hand, maybe. There's only so many hiding spots he has.

"Do you have a ride back home?" the woman says.

He stares at her, and he feels his jaw drop when he realizes. "Bollocks. I overshared, didn't I?"

She just smiles. "I mean, I have a car, and space for two... how many of you are there?"

He scratches behind his ear. "Don't worry. We've got a car. And we going right back to Brighton, anyway."

"Oh.” She seems to think for a moment. “I don't even know where that is."

He holds back a laugh. "Figured so. From your accent."

Her smile widens. "I'm Emma," she says, extending her hand.

"Killian," he gives his hand back, careful to keep his left arm inside his jacket pocket. She's still looking at his face when he drops his hand to his side. "So... you know that they're actually having a few concerts in the States for this tour, right? How come you decided to fly all over to here?"

"Well, today... or more like, yesterday," she pauses as she checks her watch, "was my birthday. This was more like a birthday gift to me, and of course I'm going to see them in-” She pauses suddenly. “What?"

She's obviously cut off by the expression on his face. "You're not kidding? Tomorrow- or, today, is my birthday."

"Wow. Happy birthday, then."

"Happy birthday to you too. Seems it was a great one."

Emma seems happy as she looks back at the now empty stage. "I'd say one of the best ones. Does your birthday seem promising?"

His chest feels twice its normal size when she turns to look at him. Somehow, with their birthdays being so close, it feels as if her having had a great birthday is feeding his own satisfaction for that day, for the first time in four- no, five years.

Some of her slightly messy hair is sticking to her face – she probably went all out dancing tonight – and her eyes seem to droop in drowsiness, but she's absolutely glowing.

Glowing and looking at him.

When she takes a step towards him, it feels like it's gravity that's pulling his own body to her.

"It seems that way, aye," he replies.

Her eyes close when she's a few inches away from him, but he waits for the moment his lips touch hers to close his eyes.

~

(A/N: I want to remind the readers that this chapter is told from Killian's point of view, distorted as it is from grief, rage and isolation from the people he loves. Emotional progress is almost never visible in the short term, especially regarding addictions. Killian might have thought the AA meetings didn't help him, but it doesn't mean that giving up and depending on a controlling person to keep him clean was the healthy thing to do.

I know it's a work of fiction but some lines are easily confused, so the message I want to pass is that if you or a loved one is trying to let go of an addiction, keeping up the effort when progress isn't directly visible may be hard, but it's worth it and will eventually help.)

[doomonfilm]

Thoughts : Willy’s Wonderland (2021)

Nicolas Cage has built a career out of occasionally interspersing his unique characterizations in random films with a sort of inverse approach involving an unchained Cage as the figurehead of a story so off the wall that only Cage could carry the weight of it.  That’s why it was no surprise that an immediate groundswell of buzz and anticipation occurred when Willy’s Wonderland was announced.  To the average movie-goer, any opportunity to witness a Cage-rage (as one of my coworkers refers to the Cage approach) is a welcome one, and seeing him beat down human-sized android puppets sounds too good to miss out on.  For those aware of Five Nights at Freddy’s, however, the film seemed like an attempt to steal the thunder from a film that will automatically have a built-in fanbase if (or more likely, when) the trigger is pulled on production and release.  That being said, Hulu came to the rescue and picked up the streaming rights to Willy’s Wonderland, meaning I had no excuse for not seeing this fever dream of a flick.

What we are looking at is a unique two-fisted cash grab attempt, and luckily, each fist contains the main elements worth talking about in this film, as honestly, there is not much going on here.  We’ll start with the elephant in the room before diving into the obvious realm : this is basically the Wish version of a Five Nights at Freddy’s film, with a healthy dose of R.L. Stine-inspired lore building tossed in to give the film a sense of purpose or narrative thrust.  First and foremost, there is BARELY a narrative arc to this film, and many of the story beats feel tacked on purely for the need of having the parts of the story that aren’t Willy’s-centered still feel like they’re moving forward.  With Five Nights at Freddy’s already being a dark take on the real-life Showbiz Pizza and Chuck E. Cheese’s establishments that dot the nation, taking it one step deeper with Willy’s Wonderland gives the film’s creators a false sense of agency in terms of the need for backstory.  We are literally dropped into the proceedings with the barest bones of a flashback sequence before being asked to buy into no less that 4 sets of character stories, three of which consistently managing to bring the portions not involving the centerpiece of the show to a cringe-filled crawl.

Speaking of the centerpiece of the show, the other obvious attempt to bring curious viewers to Willy’s Wonderland is the lure of the most curious star in the Hollywood system : the enigma that is Nicolas Cage.  It’s no secret that Cage has built up an extremely varied career of roles that fall all over the highlight and lowlight spectrum, many of which appear to be blatant cash grabs to keep him financially in a head above water situation (allegedly, as I am not his accountant).  Willy’s Wonderland falls completely into the same realm for Cage of films like Jiu Jitsu, the upcoming The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, Left Behind and so on, where the addition of Nicolas Cage is meant to lift the credibility of the content by association, and the anticipation of Cage going off the rails is implied by his connection.  With this in mind, I’ve got to give it to Cage for continuously being able to cash in on properties like this while still managing to maintain some version of star power, as trying to imagine the likes of Sylvester Stallone, Brendan Frasier, Johnny Knoxville or some other ridiculously outlandish casting immediately makes this film way less interesting.

From the outside looking in, it appears that the budget was mainly allocated to two realms : the animatronics and however much it cost to include Nicolas Cage in the cast.  The work on the animatronics is one of the few saving graces for Willy’s Wonderland, as each puppet has just enough of a unique look to have them stand out from one another.  The movement of each figure matches their personality, and the gore effects for each animatronic kill really give those highlight moments additional impact.  The visual look is otherwise a bit dry in terms of color timing... there is quite a bit of eye-catching fluorescents once we enter the Willy’s establishment, but everything in the film (including these sequences) are so washed out that it mutes the effect... my guess is that they were looking to capture a living and breathing comic book look, which is accomplished, but somewhat in odds with the tone of the film.  A nod must be given to the score and soundtrack creators for attempting to create a small bank of original jingles and in-world diegetic music rather than going for stock tunes. 

Giving Nicolas Cage top billing is an interesting choice... he gives you a textbook Cage performance full of odd choices, intense but hilarious stares and overconfident physicality, all without uttering one word (to my recollection).  Beth Grant gives her down-home, over the top best as a literal plug-in character meant to explain the existence of Liv Hawthorne (who we will get to).  David Sheftell, Ric Reitz and Chris Warner all bring in some much needed levity in the form of outrageous caricatures of standard horror character tropes.  Unfortunately, the thing that really drags the film down is the inclusion of the teenagers in the story : Emily Tosta is given very little purpose as Liv Hawthorne, as her character could have literally been one of what is implied to be scores of kids sacrificed to Willy’s Wonderland, while her counterparts (Kai Kadlec, Caylee Cowan, Christian Del Grosso, Jonathan Mercedes and Terayle Hill) are, ironically, nothing but sacrificial lambs, both symbolically in terms of the narrative and literally in terms of being characters.  Jiri Staneck, Jessica Graves, Taylor Towery, B.J. Guyer, Chris Schmidt Jr., Billy Bussey, Christopher Bradley and Duke Jackson must all be given props for their animatronic performances.

Willy’s Wonderland may almost certainly go down as the most singularly unique and interesting viewing experience of the year, short of someone like Charlie Kaufman releasing a new film.  I don’t ever see myself returning to this film in a capacity outside of sharing it with friends or watching it “impaired” (if you catch my drift), but don’t let my bit of a beating that I gave the film fool you... this isn’t a bad movie... I’d say it’s an unnecessary guilty pleasure, if nothing else.

[janekfan]

Dispossessed

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292337

Curled up in his chair and safely ensconced in his office, Jon shivered intermittently with cold after his confrontation with Elias following his narrow escape, release? from the Circus, numb and empty. Thank god he’d had a change of clothes in here because after all his last set had seen they were better off burned, and he’d changed into them after scrubbing his skin raw with the hottest water he could stand out of the tap. Standing there. Staring at his reflection in the glass.

They hung from his frame, easily two sizes large, and He’d practically run from the restroom to hide, ashamed and embarrassed and overwhelmed.

His stomach hurt and he wrapped his arms around the gnawing void behind his ribs, begging the pressure for relief. The last time he’d eaten...well he couldn’t remember the last time, days blurred together there, the passing of time marked in his useless struggles against the hands, hands everywhere and touching, touching, touching him.

He’d lost his flat, his things, his wallet, parts of himself. All lost. All taken.

Like he had been taken.

And no one noticed.

No one had cared and he wasn’t surprised because he knew how they felt about him, he knew, he did, he just didn’t expect it to cut so deeply.

Leaving this small bit of sanctuary was out of the question and Jon was too exhausted to do anything else today, so he did what he did in his captivity when things became too much and forced himself to sleep.

When he woke up there was a cup of tea cooling on his desk and a jumper draped over him.

He’d gone through his desk twice, the first time for a protein bar he knew was in there and ate in small, controlled bites, and the second because he hoped for another. He couldn’t live like this. Not without cash or a way to eat and he wasn’t crawling back to Elias to ask for any favors. But just a few more days and he’d have a replacement ID and a few more after that he could access his bank account .

Until then he’d have to make do.

In the evenings he ventured outside with his knapsack, almost daring the Circus to grab him again, wondering if this time, Micheal would just kill him and be done with it. He just walked. Mostly aimless, placing what spare bottles he found in his bag so he could return them for their deposit. With his secrets close and kept, Jon tried not to think of the new lows he’d sunk to as he dipped chocolate digestives from the vending machine into Martin’s tea and lost himself in statement after statement, the static in the background like a laundry line where he hung the rest of fears and insecurities and let himself go.

But Jon didn’t feel well. Shaky and tired, counting the seconds until he had access to his funds again and feeling more and more like he wouldn’t be able to make it off a quid’s worth of biscuits and tea. He scrubbed a trembling palm down his face, massaging his temples and willing the persistent headache to stop its pounding. He dug his fingers into his hollow stomach, twisting up the fabric there and holding it so tight they ached with the strain.

It affected his judgement. Not that many would say he had much of that to begin with.

He was being pulled too thin.

And suddenly it was all he could think about. A box in one of the cupboards, shoved towards the back. He remembered seeing them before he was taken. Long before. So maybe they didn’t belong to anyone. Just some old cream crackers. Just anything to avoid begging Martin because that’s where his mind went next. He’d been so cruel to him, he couldn’t take advantage like that. He wouldn’t. He slipped out of his chair, grabbing the edge of the desk almost desperately when his vision swam and the office tipped violently to the side. Clammy, his hand flew to his forehead as though he could press the equilibrium back in.

On silent feet he crept to the dark break room, thankfully avoiding anybody and making it there without much trouble. Leaning up on his tiptoes he just managed to coax his prize off the shelf with the tips of his fingers, catching it against his chest when it fell. There was dust on the box. And yet he was riddled with shame and guilt as he pulled out a half package.

Just as the lights flicked on.

And Tim and Melanie caught him.

“Boss.” Like a curse and Jon winced, clutching the package, shrinking under his flinty stare. “Haven’t seen you in days.”

“What are you skulking around in the dark for?” She laughed and it was a mean thing that twisted around his heart like barbed wire. “What are you doing?”

“N’nothing.” He tilted his chin up, willing his flight response to quit it because he was safe here even if they didn’t like him.

“Looks like you’re stealing, boss.” Tim tore the package from his grip.

“No! I wouldn’t, th’they--”

“They’re what? Out of words now?” Tim crushed them, threw them at the floor. “Boss?”

“I can expla--” When he shoved him, Jon’s mind blanked, transported very suddenly back to Nikola’s jeering, cheerful, awful voice and wandering hands and--

“Not enough you got Sasha killed?”

“S’stop.” Barely a breath, he didn’t have anything else.

“Not enough you trapped us here?”

“Stop.”

“Not enough to snare Melanie?”

“P’p’please.”

“You have to steal? And take? More??” Each increasingly loud demand for answers accompanied with another push until he was pinned by his shoulders and still Jon couldn’t speak louder than a whisper when he asked, "how long before you take the rest of us?"

“Stop.”

“I won’t.” His face was inches from his own, and so angry. “Not until you tell us the truth.”

Stop stop stop

“Tell us, Jon.”

“Stop, stop, please, stop, stop touching me, please, please…” He wasn’t upright under his own power, the hands on him had him trapped against the wall and he couldn’t breathe with them on him, couldn’t think, couldn’t answer their questions because he didn’t have answers and didn’t understand the words because he was in the tunnels again and the echo made it impossible to hear and they kept touching--

“Tim!” It was like a gunshot and Jon recoiled like he’d been the one to fire it, sliding down the wall when the hands released him as if burned, all sharp angles and days old clothes and suddenly it was Tim’s face above him again, horrified, before it disappeared and the room fell quiet.

“Jon?”

Martin.

“S’sorry.” The weight of his pathetic incompetence pressed down on him like a stone, crushing the air out of his body and there was none left in the room for him to take. “Sorry, m’sorry, m'sorry.” The pulse hammering through his blood hurt like a bruise bone deep, left him dizzy, and he couldn’t, there was no air here.

“I know, I know you are.” Martin. Martin. Martin should hate him along with the rest. Why, why. Why was he here? Why was he so, so, so very kind? “You need to breathe, Jon, or you’re going to pass out.” Didn’t he understand? There wasn’t anything left to breathe? All gone, nothing left but crumbling paper and fading ink and the dust would cover everything, including him until he didn’t need to breathe.

“Martin.” Gasping, breathless, choking on dust, dust, dust, the damp on his face trickling through it carving paths like desert rain.

“I’m here.” Jon realized he’d been looking up where Tim’s face had been this whole time, finally dropped his gaze to see Martin, brows knit with worry. Worry. He didn’t deserve that. Not after the ruin he caused. The people he’d killed. “I’m not going anywhere.” Narrow chest heaving in shallow, short attempts, Jon let his head fall into the corner between wall and cupboard, curling there, small and safe on all sides, because Martin was here and Martin was staying even though he shouldn’t.

“Martin.” At some point his eyes closed while listening to him ramble about inconsequential things and the different dogs he saw around his flat though he didn’t know their names and wanted to.

“I’m still here.” At least one of them was. Jon felt disconnected, loose, and forced his lashes apart like he was moving mountains. Now that he was no longer panicking the ache in his stomach was back. “Jon?”

“Mm.” Martin was sitting against the cupboards too. Wasting his time here with him. Keeping a measured distance between them as if he knew the kind of tentative control Jon was managing.

“Why don’t you go home?”

“Don’ have one.” Jon hugged himself closer, unmoored without a place to return to.

“Why were you in here?” In here stealing.

“Jus’ hungry.” And the pangs were very real and he was so lightheaded.

“Oh, Jon.”

“M’sorry.” He ducked his face, hiding behind folded arms. “Didn’t. I d’didn’t realize. Thought.” He shuddered, hot with embarrassment and shame. “Didn’t mean to steal.”

“Is that what Tim was yelling about?” Miserable, Jon shook his head, the tears dripping into his oversized jumper.

“No, he's. Angry.” Martin sighed, heavy and tired, and Jon’s throat closed up around his sorrow. “I understand.”

“Well. Jon, you weren’t stealing.” Why was he kind after everything he’d done to him? After how poorly he’d treated him? “They were probably very stale considering they’ve been there since. I think since before I started.” Caught off guard, Jon laughed a bit, face still in his knees, until it turned to crying. Loud and ugly and foolish and shameful, and oh if only his grandmother could see him now when her presumptions and predictions came true as he failed every person who'd dared allow him close. But Martin let him sob himself dry, until he was left with an aching head and the kind of tired that only happens after a cry like that. “I’m inviting you to dinner.” His head snapped up so fast he dashed it on the wall.

“No, n’no, I.”

“Am coming with me.” His tone brooked no argument. "Would be rude to refuse my invitation, you know."

“Martin--”

“We can give those clothes a wash.” He went on, ignoring Jon’s stammering. “I’ve got other things too, you can have, while you’re living here.” Again, the tears welled up, spilling over, and this time Martin held out his arms. And this time, Jon was ready.

I was really inspired by @voiceless-terror fic A Place for the Night! 

(I can totally take it down if I’ve overstepped!)

[fidothefinch]

Playing House - Ch 1: Welcome Home

He shifted the duffle bag higher over his shoulder and walked on, toward the back of the dealership building. “I’m here, just like you asked,” Dick said, raising his voice. “Alone. I have your mon—”

He stopped dead in his tracks as car headlights flicked on, directly ahead of him.

This wasn’t a ransom drop-off.

Read more on Ao3

This chapter fills the Whumptober 2020 prompt for Day 2: kidnapping. I have planned on writing about five prompts into this story, but who knows?

Overall warnings for this story: kidnapping, nonconsensual restraints, attempted nonconsensual drugging, domestic abuse, using family members as hostages, forced infantilism (not the kinky kind), some form of gaslighting, and the antagonist uses some “parenting phrases” that may be triggering for some folks (counting down, for example)

Warnings for this chapter: all of the above, plus ransom demands, being threatened with a gun, non-consensual non-sexual kissing (not on the lips), (the word “sugar,” as in “give me some sugar,” has a familiar affection connotation rather than a sexual one where I am from (southern US); I am warning for it regardless)

Dick’s feet hit the pavement as hard as the rain.

“Tim! Damian!”

There were no answers. A few people taking shelter from the weather in a nearby pavilion glanced over, but nobody said anything. This was Gotham, after all.

Dick’s jacket was soaked through, but he didn’t stop long enough to take it off. He wiped water out of his eyes and peered into the foggy weather around him. There was an open gazebo smack-dab in the center of the park, and he raced to it so he could get a better look.

His feet slid on the wet floor when he got inside, but he wasted no time pulling out his phone. While it rang, he searched the park again, in all directions, as though there were a chance the two of them had left their bags under a picnic shelter to play a demented game of hide-and-seek and would pop out from behind a tree, cackling.

He turned Tim’s broken camera over in his hands. No way he would have left it; it was new, a gift for his birthday.

He was so focused on his search he didn’t notice, at first, when Bruce answered the phone. He snapped back to reality with a sharp, “Richard. Report.”

“They’re gone.” He was panting from his sprint through the park. “I’ve looked everywhere, and they’re gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“They left all of their stuff at our pavilion. Tim left his camera – the lens is cracked. I found it on the ground a few feet away.” He had to stop to catch his breath, and he swiped his soaked hair back off his forehead.

“Have you tried calling them?”

“Nobody answered.”

“I’ll have Alfred try again from the secure line. When did you last see them?”

“We had just finished setting out the food. I saw an old friend from school and we got talking, and when I got back they were gone.” His breath hitched when he saw two figures running down the path ahead of him. “Wait. I think I see them.”

Without hesitation, he ran after the figures. “Tim! Damian!”

They didn’t answer, but that was typical. As Dick got closer, though, he realized with a heavy heart it wasn’t his brothers. The two joggers hurried past him without a second glance.

“Dick?”

“It wasn’t them.”

A sound caught his attention. A familiar tune, one he had heard chirping through the thin walls of the manor countless times. He tuned out Bruce and followed the sound of Damian’s ringtone, hope building in his chest.

He found Damian’s cell phone, and that hope plummeted.

He reached into the weeds and pulled out the device. The screen was cracked, but he could clearly make out the caller ID across the screen. He hung up his own phone to answer Damian’s.

“Master Damian?”

“It’s me, Alfred,” Dick answered, voice flat.

“I think Tim and Damian have been abducted.”

xXx

Twelve hours later, Dick pulled his vehicle into a used car dealership’s parking lot. He scanned the lot as he pulled through, but didn’t find any signs of life. The shadows were still; the night silent. He seemed to be alone.

“I want to talk to Richard,” the kidnapper had said through a voice modifier. Bruce had spluttered a refusal, but Dick didn’t hesitate to answer with, “I’m here.”

Dick found a spot to park, but hesitated before opening the door. He rested a hand on the seat next to him, where a stuffed black duffel bag waited.

“Bring $100,000 in unmarked fifty-dollar bills. No consecutive serial numbers. Pick it up from different banks and accounts. Come alone.”

Dick hoisted the bag over his shoulder, wincing as its weight dug in. It was heavy, and nearly dragged him off-balance as he exited his car. His breath fogged in the night’s chill, and his car door shutting sounded like a nail in a coffin.

“Don’t involve the police,” the kidnapper had said. “If I see a single cop get involved in the case, I’ll kill one of the boys. And I’ll let you decide which.”

Batman was around here, somewhere. Dick looked from the corner of his eye, and spotted a flash of movement from a rooftop not too far away. If they weren’t able to catch the criminal tonight, they would still be able to collect enough evidence to put him away.

But the most important thing was getting Tim and Damian back.

“We need proof they’re still alive.”

“Oh, I can help with that.” Dick and Bruce exchanged a worried look over the phone speaker as footsteps sounded over the other end. A door creaked open. Then, “Timmy, honey, say something for your dad?”

The distinctive sound of bedsprings squeaking. “Bruce?”

“See? Safe and sound, as long as you follow my rules.”

There didn’t seem to be anybody at the meeting place. “Hello?” Dick called out.

No response. He shifted the duffle bag higher over his shoulder and walked on, toward the back of the dealership building. “I’m here, just like you asked,” Dick said, raising his voice. “Alone. I have your mon—”

He stopped dead in his tracks as car headlights flicked on, directly ahead of him.

This wasn’t a ransom drop-off.

He dropped the duffel bag to the ground and backed up, but he couldn’t outrun a car. Wheels squealed on the pavement as the car lurched forward and took a sharp turn, cornering Dick against the brick wall. The trunk of the car popped open, and the streetlights glinted off the barrel of a gun.

“If you ever want to see your brothers again, you’ll get inside right now.”

It was a woman.

It was all the thought he had to process before a warning shot buried in the brick wall next to him, spitting dust and shrapnel at his face. He blinked and coughed, ducking to avoid a second shot.

“Get in right now! Don’t make me count!”

Weird choice of words. When he looked up, Batman had crept into the parking lot, and waited behind a car to pounce.

“One!”

Dick looked over the car, using his shock and fear as an excuse for his hesitation. There was no license plate, no identifying marks. He suspected it was a car from the lot itself. The woman wore black clothing; none of her skin or hair showed.

“Two!”

They didn’t know enough to identify the kidnapper; even if they were able to catch her, they wouldn’t be able to find Tim and Damian on their own. There was a chance she didn’t intend to take Dick to the same place, either.

Dick made eye contact with Batman, across the lot. Batman’s mouth was a hard flat line.

“Two and a half!” the woman shouted, through grit teeth.

Dick raised his hands. “Don’t hurt them,” he pleaded. “I’m coming.”

He rose to a full stand and shifted to the side, toward the trunk. The woman turned to point the gun at the back of the car while he climbed inside.

It was clean, at least.

She barely waited long enough for him to get both feet inside before she slammed the accelerator, and the trunk slammed shut over Dick’s head.

xXx

He felt the car swerve through city streets for what he estimated was twenty minutes, before they pulled onto a highway and drove for another hour or two. He reached out to smash one of the car’s taillights, but found them blocked with an extra layer of sheet metal. He used his hands to search the darkness for the switch that would open the trunk from the inside, but, predictably, this was missing, too.

She changed cars nearly two hours after they began their journey, forcing Dick’s wrists and ankles into two sets of leather cuffs that buckled behind his back. He felt sick to his stomach when he realized they were soft from use. She let him sit in the back seat, this time, with the assurance that the child lock was engaged and any “shenanigans” would be met with severe punishment. After she buckled him into the seat, she put a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. The lenses had been taped over; he was effectively blindfolded.

They drove another two hours. Dick worried his bottom lip with his teeth the entire car ride.

xXx

“Dick!”

“Tim?”

The sunglasses were ripped from his face, and he stumbled in the sudden light flooding the room.

It was a relatively small space, with two identical twin-sized beds set against opposite, pastel-blue walls. A dresser and desk took up most of the far wall. The lone window, above the desk, was boarded over.

Tim was lying in one of the beds. He wore similar cuffs to Dick’s, except his were attached to the metal headboard, keeping him pinned back. There were dark circles under his eyes, but Dick couldn’t find much else wrong with him on his first look-over.

“What are you doing here?” Tim asked.

Dick ignored the question, trying and failing to get closer to his little brother. “Are you hurt?”

“Timmy,” the woman behind Dick said, saccharine voice strained with the effort of pulling Dick toward the opposite twin bed.

Tim stiffened. His eyes tracked over Dick’s shoulder.

“You kicked your sheets down again. How many times do I have to tell you?” she admonished. “If you do it again, you’ll get time-out.”

“You’re crazy,” Tim said. “And I’m an adult.” He scowled at the look Dick shot to him. “Shut up, Dick.”

“Young man, you’re already in trouble.” The woman pushed Dick down onto the opposite bed. “Language like that is not allowed under my roof.”

“Then let us go.”

“That’s not how families act.” She pinned Dick down with a hand on his chest, and Dick got his first good look at her. She looked to be around her mid-thirties. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and her face was still round with youthfulness, even if there were the beginnings of creases around her eyes and mouth. Her makeup reminded Dick of old Hollywood movies.

As Dick studied her, she pulled something out of her pocket. When she smiled, it was sweet and warm. “Open up, sweetheart.”

Dick eyed the pill. He couldn’t tell what it was. “Uh. No, thanks.”

“Take the medicine and you’ll get some sugar.”

Dick recoiled. “No.”

She sighed. “The longer we have to do this, the longer it will be until I can check on your baby brother.”

Dick glanced around the room again. There were no signs Damian had even been there.

Tim seemed to know what he was looking for without him having to voice it. “I haven’t seen him since the park.”

“Hush, Timmy. You’re supposed to be asleep.” The sharp words were tempered by her soft expression. When she looked down at Dick, she held up three fingers. “I’ll give you to the count of three, and if you don’t take your medicine, I will have to put you in time-out, too.”

The counting again. It wasn’t unusual for Gotham’s villains to have their themes, but Dick had to admit this one was new.

“One.”

Maybe one of Calendar Man’s cousins? Dick fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Two.”

“Dick,” Tim said, voice quiet. Dick looked past the woman’s hand and met Tim’s gaze.

Tim shook his head, just slightly.

The woman’s face was slowly getting more red, but her expression was frozen. “Thr—”

Dick opened his mouth.

“Oh!” Her smile stretched wider, revealing pearly white teeth. “Thank you for doing what I asked.” She placed the pill on his tongue and waited expectantly for Dick to swallow it.

Dick pocketed it under his tongue and pretended to swallow.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The woman didn’t seem too interested in waiting for the drugs to take effect. She got busy unlocking the cuffs behind Dick’s back and reattaching them to the bedframe in a mirror of Tim’s position. When she had finished, she stood up, admiring her work. “Would you like me to tuck you in, Richie?”

Dick’s face screwed up at the nickname. Ew. “No.”

She seemed determined to ignore him, reaching down and pulling the navy blue sheets over his legs and torso, tucking them into the sides tight enough they practically pinned him to the mattress.

“Where is Damian?” Dick asked.

“Dami’s in the nursery, where he’s supposed to be.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Shh, Richie.” She bent down at the foot of his bed, and a night light flicked on. “It’s time for bed.”

She leaned down over his face, and Dick cringed back.

She pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

He froze.

She stood up again and walked over to Tim, tucking him in again and repeating the gesture. Tim twisted his head away, and received a sharp slap in retaliation. Where she kissed his forehead she left a smudge of bright red lipstick.

The woman walked to the door and waited in the open doorway. “Goodnight, boys,” she said, sickeningly sweet. “Sweet dreams.”

The door locked behind her.

[hpdabbles]

Impress Baby Brother

For  @1d-hp-trash​  who just asked for a fic. I hope this dabble is a good close second!

Sirius checks the ring setting on his hand one more time, tracing the smooth metal with the palm of a finger as he waits for the plane to finish unboarding.  The skin glides over the entwined metal that rest inside the ring’s inner area twisting all the way to the center where a black pearl is lifted above the band. 

He paid quite the amount  for the pearl to have a wolf engraved into the gem in a lovely snow white. He didn’t have to go that far he knows, since it will only be for a week but when the man offered the engrave deluxe offer, he could only think of the howling wolf tattoo Remus had on his back, the one his friend got in order to hide some scars from a terrible car accident in his youth.

It matched the grim Sirius had on his chest though not nearly as large, since Remus entire back was covered. Sirius instead the ink over his left peck, black dog howling upwards in the same manner of Remus’ wolf. He couldn’t help himself and asked for a grim to be added in black to a white pearl that was on Remus’ ring. 

They cost enough to make his bank account weep especially with the speed order he placed but came old money, enough so that living without a job wouldn’t effect him. 

If Regulus doubted them with rings like this then Sirius didn’t know what else would keep their lie. 

He just hopes James, Peter and Remus finished with moving in all their stuff while he drove to the airport to pick up his baby brother. Even though the Potter summer home came with furniture it wouldn’t seem like they would were living in domestic bless if nothing they own was in there. Plus it was originally supposed to be Sirius’ house, on a nice grassy hill that stretched for a good five acres meant to show he really had his life in order for once.

It was especially important to look like a functioning adult to Regulus, the favorite of their overbearing, never pleased and abusive parents. They never really loved Sirius and after a while drove him off with their hateful words and painful hits. 

  After Sirius ran away he lost almost all communication with his brother but Regulus reached out to him once his brother was old enough to leave home and begged to room with the Marauders - Sirius’ band at the time with his best mates. The two years of them all sharing a flat really helped the Black brothers reconnect but Regulus studies took him to whole other country where he build a home for himself as one of the youngest and finest minds in the Bio-Chemistry world where he help develop new medical treatments. 

Sirius couldn’t be prouder....if it didn’t mean he had nothing to show for the years his baby brother was working hard. He didn’t have a job, no house- he couch surf a lot now that James and Lily had married- and no romantic relationship to speak of.  He didn’t want Regulus to know that and had lied about everything in his last letter, claiming things were going great so much so he was soon to marry and live the rest of his days in a house on a hill with a well paying job, the thing was the youngest was now very excited to meet his fiance and was coming over for a visit.

Thankfully his friends had his back, with James offering his family summer house, Peter asking the fashion magazine he worked for take him on as a model for two weeks and Remus agreeing to be his one true love for a week.

One week of calling the man he loved his. 

“This is all going to blow up in my face isn’t it?” He asks the ring just as Regulus walks out of the gate and gives him a bright smile. Sirius opens his arms for a hug, that the shorter man crashes into. He’s wearing a suit because of course Regulus is. 

“Reggie welcome back home! How is America treating you?”

“Thank you Sirius. It’s been great I have so much to tell you.” Regulus looks around “Is your fiance here?”

“No he’s at home cooking us some dinner. Sorry, he couldn’t get the day off.” 

Regulus smiles  “Not to worry, I understand. Shall we go collect my luggage? I’m awful tired from the plane and will end up sleeping on the ground if we don’t move”

The drive home was a hour long but thankfully Regulus slept though it a all, leaving Sirius to spiral with doubt of them pulling off his lie with each passing mile. He traced the ring over and over again, willing the wolf to give him the strength. 

Eventually they pulled up to the Potter home with a drowsy Regulus following Sirius into the house, each carrying a suitcase.The moment the front door opens a aroma of spices and meat drifts though the air causing both Blacks to take a long sniff and have their stomach rumbling.

Remus peaks his head out from the kitchen, wearing a cozy jumper with a apron thrown on top. There is a moment where pure adoration hits Sirius in the gut as his friend smiles at them, his brown hair slightly tussled and a bit of flour a the corner of his chin. He looks warm, soft and homey and Sirius swallows the urge to rush over and kiss him.

Except he shouldn’t have because Remus steps to him placing a quick kiss on his lips. He blinks at him in shock before he remembers that yes, as his fake fiance, Remus could greet him with a kiss. “Welcome home darling. Regulus, it’s been much too long!”

His brother’s silver eyes swing between them before they gleam in a knowing light. He moves over to shake the older man’s hand, his eyes running over the house which has been decorated to perfect and really does seem like their home. “It certainly has Remus. Though I am surprise to say you are the fiance Sirius has been so secretive about. How in the world did this idiot pull a man like you?”

“He just asked” Remus laughs smile straining for a second, pumping the hand in his hold up and down respectfully. “Really. Are you hungry? I made your favorite, spaghetti and spicy meatballs.”

Regulus drops his suitcases in the corner of the sitting room before whirling around with a pleased grin. “Welcome to family dearest Brother-in-Law.” 

This causes the other man to roar with laughter leading them into the kitchen where three plates have been set up along with a feast on the dinner table. Besides the promised pasta there is a salad, some juice and Remus’ famous chips and salsa. Sirius mouth waters at the sight of them.

The three sit down catching up on recent events, work and teasing Regulus about his crush on fellow chemist, a man name Severus who had been partnered with him for a new allergy pill. 

The conversation never falters or stills between the Black and Lupin, talking as if though Regulus never moved out of the shared flat. Even though it obvious Regulus is exhausted he is generally pleased with his “fiance” sending Sirius facial expressions that all but say  He’s a keeper..

Not that Sirius doesn’t know that. He’s seen Remus be the best boyfriend to his girlfriends plenty of times through the years, any girl would be lucky to have him. 

Sirius remains silent watching them chat, laugh and joke through out the dinner wondering if he could one day have this for real.  If maybe he could work up to courage to have Remus marry him and wear a real ring even though he knows that his friend doesn’t swing that way. That Remus Lupin is far beyond his reach..

Later that night as the three set off to bed with Regulus turning in earlier then usual as the time difference was still effecting him greatly, he rolls over, his bare feet- Remus rule of no socks in the bed will need some getting used to- tangling with a sleeping Remus’ legs. 

His friend sighs in his sleep pressing closer to him and curling in the nook of Sirius neck. The Black curls a arm around him, closing his eyes and listening to the lie he wished was reality slumber. 

“I love you Remus,” He whispers to the dark room they have claimed as theirs for the next week. “I really love you.”

He gets no reply but he wasn’t expecting one though the ring on his finger and the warmth of his best friend is a comfort enough as he finally surrenders to sleep.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

.. Saturday 21 January 1837

8 ½

2 50

No kiss John took the notes written last night A- found her cousin come the first thing this morning – fine frosty morning F31° at 9 20 am and breakfast – had Mr. Husband just before breakfast about A-‘s chauffied footstool for her aunt – then had SW- I paid him for Highways – Hilltop and Mytholm Ing and woods in Hipperholme – A- in a hurry – wanted to pay him her debt of £10 on Thursday but he looked and it came out that money was scarce – I have long thought it so with him – Mr. Horner came to A- at 10 ¾ and was to walk forwards to lower Crownest to meet A- (to follow on horseback) to copy an old chimney piece at Mr. Hirst’s – A- had Mrs. Hannah Walker at 10 ¾ and gave her Mary Rhodes’s Savings Bank book Mrs. HW- bringing a written request to that effect from the Executors (the brother of the deceased and a Mr. -------- Fillingham) and she signing her name to the paper as having received the book – at my desk at 11 and wrote the above of today – Mr. SW- will be very busy on Monday – begged off till Tuesday – to settle this with Mr. Holt – SW- to come on Thursday to settle finally A-‘s accounts – from 11 ½ to 1 50 writing out Mark Town’s agreement for his second take of land tho’ he entered in fact last summer    I have dated the agreement from 2 February next – Rent £13 per annum -                        

wrote out also Joseph Mann’s agreement for Whiskam cottage dated from 1 January 1836 Rent £5 per annum – Gave him the key 19 December 1835. – went out at 2 pm a little on the house top with Booth’s man Edward and another, having taken out the window over the hall-chamber passage and being putting on the slates, - laying them in mortar as my father had the roof all new done in the summer of 1826 by Jonathan Jackman mason – the roof now done in its original form before the sky light or .......... window was put out to light the passage which must have been done on the hall being chambered over perhaps about 1592 when the drawing room was wainscoted – then with the gardener and Joseph booth thinning out the young oaks along the walk and planting them on the Rock bridge north embankment East side – then to Mytholm quarry to Robert Mann + 3 (his son David Samuel Booth and Jack Green) baring and getting off stone for the glen bridge rough walling back to the gardener in ½ hour and with him till 5 – then about the rock bridge musing and looking till came in at 5 ½ - the 2 Manns and Charles Howarth and Mark Town waiting for me and John Hainsworth come to A- for stone at Shugden – A- would not dispose of it now but would not let it by private contract without 1st letting him know – Charles H- had got irons for 15 gates – 7 made – to see what wanted at Little Marsh and speak to me again on Monday morning – Mark Town signed his agreement for Wakefield gatefield and part of Long field and the 2 Manns witnessed it – told him he had no vote – I would not make him one because I could not do with my tenants voting against me and he was under some obligation to vote with his whig master Mr. Jonathan Akroyde – said in answer that I would see about doing up the old cottage adjoining his house – if it could be done for a trifle I would say nothing about it – if it cost much he (MT-) must pay something for it – He wants water getting – it will be a £50 job said the Manns after MT- was gone – will not answer for finding it at 20 yards depth – in the rag – may be 20 to 25 yards deep or perhaps more – not 30 yards deep – would cost 20/. a yard sinking and 20/. a yard for pump putting down – the well should be where the pigsty is against the house towards the road – Robert Mann will go over to Bradford tomorrow to see when Mr. Cole will come – to come on Tuesday if he can when Holt and SW- are to be here – A- had Mrs. Ann Lee that tho’ I was not ready till near 6 dinner had still to wait till a little after 7 – coffee about 8 ½ - A- read French – I read glanced over this morning Halifax Guardian and read the London morning Herald received last night – confidence at last happily returning in the money market at my desk at 9 ¾ - the whole of this p. except the 1st 2 lines and at accounts till 11 ¾ - spoke to Mr. Husband this afternoon just before settling with the Manns about going on to the roof of the house on Monday and taking great care that all the lead flashings etc are left quite safe – told him also to think about making the top room of the west tower fire-proof for the deeds boxes – why not floor-joists, and roof and stairs if requisite, iron  Letter tonight from Mr. Frank Ramsden directed to ‘James Lister Esquire Shibden Hall H-x’ Mr. FR- had ‘just ascertained’ (dated 19th instant Hexthorpe, Doncaster) ‘from Messrs Drummond that the £25 due to him’  from the trustees of the Wakefield road ‘on February 16 1826’ had not been paid to them, so took the liberty of writing to my uncle he being the person who formerly paid the interest due on the Wakefield road ---- ! Got my bill-drawer done this morning and London morning Herald newspaper box – arranging my bill-drawer till 1 ½ tonight at which hour F38° and fine mild night – fine day till about 4 pm but dull and after 4 pm small drizzling rain

[dragonsaphirareads]

Colliding Worlds

Day 15 of @tsshipmonth2020 Fluffuary

Ship: Dukexiety

AU: Siren/Sailor

Word Count: 1939

Summary: Remus had never liked staying still. He was restless, and sailing on the ocean was a decent reprieve, but sometimes it just became too much.

(Like listening to podfics? You can listen to this oneshot on my YT channel here!)

Remus stood on the bow of the ship, feeling the ocean breeze tug at his hair, salt stinging his skin. He hung from a rope with one hand, trying to get as close to the water as he could without falling in.

So close, he could almost hear the waves crashing against the side of the hull. Since he was born, Remus had been hard of hearing. Everything was garbled and muted, like his ears were constantly full of water. But being on the ocean, there was a clarity he could never get while on land.

He’d grown up in a landlocked little village with his mother and twin brother. The biggest mass of water he’d seen as a child were the puddles on the dirt road after a heavy rain. So when they traveled to a port town when Remus was fourteen, the sheer size of the ocean had simultaneously excited and terrified him.

And that night they were scheduled to go back home, Remus left a note on his pillow and ran off to join the crew of whatever ship would take him.

He had been a stowaway at first, hiding in the cargo hold and simply letting the rocking of the boat lull his heartbeat into a steady rhythm. Sometimes he was caught and put to work, often with a beating as well, but Remus didn’t care. As long as he was on the sea, he would do what he needed to do.

Remus sighed, pulling himself up with the rope to climb the mast. He was eighteen now, though time passed differently on the water. For the last two years, he’d been sailing on The Dragon Witch, a trading ship captained by a man who called himself Deceit. He was a stern captain, but he appreciated Remus’s love for the sea and his willingness to do the jobs other sailors might not.

He had a little time before his shift started, so he unofficially appointed himself as a lookout until he needed to leave. He took a seat on a beam high above the deck, watching the water sparkle below him.

Then he heard a sound carrying over the water, clearer than anything else ever was. There was only one thing that he could hear that easily, and he immediately grabbed the rope to swing down onto the main deck, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“SIREN!”

The call stopped everyone in their tracks for a moment before the call was repeated, echoed by dozens of voices as those on deck scrambled for wax to fill their ears and evade the enchantment of the siren’s song.

Remus ran along, into the cabins to warn everyone on the ship to plug their ears. Then he burst into the captain’s quarters, startling Deceit who had been pondering over a book of accounts.

“Siren, captain! Straight ahead!” Remus reported, and Deceit swore loudly, slamming his desk.

“Damn it! We’re coming up on difficult terrain, I need everyone at full capacity!”

Remus shrugged. “I’m just the messenger!”

Deceit sighed. “I know. Alright, come with me, I’ll need you at the ready.” He scooped a small amount of wax from a pot in his desk drawer, hanging a glob of it to Remus as he passed him.

The teenager followed him, splitting the wax into two pieces and rolling them between his fingers, fiddling with it for as long as he could. He hated the wax, it deafened the one sound that was so clear to him and it felt gross as well.

Not to mention, siren song didn’t actually affect him. He didn’t know why, but he knew from one of the first times he stowed away on a ship. A siren had been sighted in their path, but there was of course no wax to be found deep in the cargo hold. He’d been captivated, yes, but in the way one might admire a particularly good performer. Never once had a siren song put him under a spell, like the stories told.

If he didn’t put the wax in, the other sailors would shout at him. But he needed to be able to hear Deceit’s orders, so he might have accidently dropped the pieces of wax as he ran after the captain up to the main deck.

If Deceit noticed, he didn’t say anything. The captain moved swiftly to the railing, looking out at their path with a narrowed gaze. Remus followed closely behind, letting the siren song crash into him like the waves. There was something different about it, compared to what he remembered from years ago. The song had a different... intent behind it, that was the only way he could explain it.

“Captain, I don’t think the siren is trying to crash us--”

“Well it’s going to if it doesn’t stop!” Deceit shouted back, waving him off. Remus sneered at the back of his head, huffing angrily.

“It’s not trying to lure us in!”

Deceit spun on his heel, getting in Remus’s face. “And how do you know? Do you speak siren now?!”

“I...!” Remus bit his tongue, shutting his mouth tightly. Even though he knew the captain usually liked him, he shouldn’t push his luck. Especially in a high stakes situation like this. Even if the siren wasn’t trying to lure then, most people would be enchanted by the song regardless.

Deceit pushed past him, the crew members looking up at the figure in black as he waved a series of hand gestures, indicating the sail position he wanted to steer them through the rocky banks they were approaching.

Remus backed away quietly, behind a stack of equipment to temporarily be hidden from view. The siren was still singing, and it was louder than ever. It was awakening something in him, that feeling he’d had since before he could remember. The wanderlust that had been dormant until this moment was raging like a heavy storm, and it was all he could do to not throw himself overboard right there.

Why was the song affecting him like this? Years ago, when the song had been calling to lure in food for the creature, there had been no reaction. It hadn’t been muffled by the hull of the ship, so he knew it couldn’t be that.

But this call was different. The siren wasn’t singing to attract food, it was singing to attract a mate.

Remus shook his head harshly, hitting his temples with his palms. Where did that come from?! How could he possibly know that?! And why, if that was true, would he be reacting to it?!

The pull was only getting stronger, and Remus knew he couldn’t hold on anymore. He put his boot up on the railing, standing tall and letting the breeze rush past him.

“Remus! What are you doing?!” From a distance, he heard Deceit’s stern voice calling after him, but it was too late. Remus let himself tip forward and fall from the side of the ship, hitting the water with a huge splash.

Almost immediately he could feel a burning sensation start in his toes, spreading up his legs and into his torso until his whole body was on fire.

He tried to suck in a breath and choked as water flowed into his lungs. He tried to cough harder, but it only made the problem worse. His vision was blurred and dimming around the edges from the pain.

Until suddenly, he could breathe again. Remus blinked, gasping in gulps and holding his hand against his burning chest. The teenager looked down and forgot how to take another breath.

Where his legs had just been, there was now a dark forest green tail, long and curling around itself loosely in the water. Lifting his soaked shirt, he saw his skin had gained a hard finish, almost like armor. Reaching up to his neck, he felt gills against his fingertips, and when he ran his tongue across his teeth he could feel that they had sharpened into little knife blades.

He was... a siren... but how?

It was then that Remus remembered a story his mother had told him as a child. One about his great-grandfather, who had fallen in love with a siren and eventually married her. How they had three children - one fully human, one a siren, and one that rested somewhere in between.

And about how his mother - and by extension, him and his brother - were descendants of that in between child. Born both of land and sea, torn between two worlds.

Well, with this, Remus had chosen his side. And he found that he didn’t regret it in the slightest.

As he looked around, he realized that he could still clearly hear the song, though it sounded more nuanced than it had before. He could hear notes echoing through the water, resonating through his body in a way that they hadn’t been before.

Remus grinned, baring his teeth as he took off towards the source of the song, his tail propelling him through the water faster than the ship. In only a few moments he was approaching the rocky shore of a small island, and the siren perched on one of the boulders on the beach.

His skin was pale, a contrast to his dark purple and black tail. It was almost metallic, with how it glittered in the afternoon sun.

Remus breached the water and the song washed over him. On instinct, he opened his mouth and let his own melody join the other siren.

They sang together for several minutes, harmonizing in twisting, haunting melodies before the song faded away, and finally the other siren turned around and Remus saw he had the most piercing gray eyes he’d ever seen.

“Beautiful...” Remus breathed, and the other siren blinked.

“You’re... you’re not...”

Remus pulled himself forward slightly, grinning. “Not what? A siren? Cause I think I am! I’m not sure though, this is all pretty new to me. I mean, just ten minutes ago I thought I was still human!”

“Did you... come from that ship?” The siren asked, moving away from Remus cautiously when Remus nodded.

“Yup! I heard your singing and I warned everyone! Siren song doesn’t normally affect me but this time it did, and when I jumped in the water I turned into this!”

The other blinked, then he covered his mouth and started shaking. Remus worried he was going to run away - swim away? - until he heard him draw in a breath and realized that the siren was laughing at him!

“You’re insane! No way that’s true!”

“Why are you laughing?! I’m telling the honest truth!” Remus insisted, but that only seemed to make him laugh harder.

“Because I was singing to find a mate! That means you completely changed species and threw away your entire life because you got horny!”

Remus only took a moment to process that, flashing him a cheeky grin. “I’ve done crazier things when I’ve gotten horny!”

That just made the siren snort, and Remus joined him in laughter.

“I’m Remus, by the way!”

The other siren continued to giggle, looking up at Remus with those gorgeous gray eyes. “Virgil.”

“So, Virgil, I’m new at this... since we sang together, does that mean we’re married now?”

Virgil threw a pebble at him, hitting him square in the forehead.

“Definitely not!”

Remus pouted, snapping his fingers. “Darn. Well then, mind teaching me where I went wrong?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, moving to enter the water. “Let’s see if you can keep up first, before you start courting me.”

“You’re on!”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Torn Apart

The injury to my eye was severe and required immediate treatment. My main concern, however, was my daughter Ru’Yi who was still sleeping in my arms despite my moans and tears as I lay against the back of the luxury Buick, staining the fine leather with my wet clothes.

Despite my pain, I still managed to snarl at the driver from the Crane group. “I swear if this is another trap, I will kill all of you in an instant!”

The driver looked into the rearview mirror. “It’s not a trap. Lancelot was a step ahead of our friend Crow. Crow had planned to trap the hunting group on another ship, but this was not the real hunting group with him, but a decoy and that traitor Shinnosuke.”

The driver’s eyes shifted to Chu Zihang and he swallowed. “This is the truth. I am not lying.”

My husband, Chu Zihang, hadn’t said a word since our rescue. He sat stiffly in the back of this vehicle, hand on the hilt of Tongzi, golden eyes fixed on the driver. He sat upright and still, like a serpent prepped to strike, like a bullet in the chamber. At the slightest hint of danger, the driver would be dead and Chu Zihang would allow him to explain himself in the afterlife.

As soon as we reached the hospital, he ushered Ru’Yi and I away. My black trenchcoat, displaying the vibrant Japanese painting style of Ukiyo-e on the lining, branded us as elites of the Japanese underworld and we were given immediate priority by the doctor.

The news wasn’t good. The hot metal had done severe damage to my left eye. They could give me ointment and gauze to see if it healed on its own, but if the eye continued to deteriorate, it would have to be removed.

Johann took Ru’Yi with him while the doctor looked at me.

He returned with three granola bars and a small cup of coffee. I tore open the wrapper and crunched into them, silent. He’d changed into a simple t-shirt and jeans and Ru’Yi was clean, warm, dry and sleeping in a car seat. He watched me eat while I sat on the examination table.

“Lu Mingfei was here with Nono. Nono is in surgery now. They’re still not sure if she’ll make it.” He said.

I looked up, eyes wide, appetite gone. “Where’s Mingfei?”

“The Crane group spotted him at a café. I’ll catch up with him there. And there’s something else. Ru’Yi’s dragonblood awakened on the ship.”

I gasped, readied myself to jump down but Johann stopped me. “What? How do you know?”

“She didn’t react to my eyes, in fact, she stared into them very calmly. Do you know how it happened?” Johann’s eyes had reverted back to their golden color and he was back to wearing his sunglasses.

I thought back, remembering. “Oh... those immortals. They sang the sacred words of Imperium. The Dark Kings Speech.”

“I’ve heard of only one hybrid awakened so young. Code-named Key. Not much is known about him other than the fact that he opened the gate under the Three Gorges Dam when he was about her age.”

“They can use Soul Skills that early?” I was astounded.

He nodded once. “Her soul skill will be revealed once she’s exposed to the right environment. But she won’t be able to control it. It will go off on instinct.”

“Okay...” I let out a breath. 

Zihang reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll get more supplies with Mingfei and we’ll see about getting out of here.”

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

Mingfei picked me up from the hospital in Crow’s red sports car. He opened the rear passenger door. When he looked into my eyes, neither of us said anything. Lu Mingfei had made good on his promise to bring Chu Zihang back but it had come at a price none of us could have possibly imagined.

There was time pressure to get out of Tokyo, but Lu Mingfei took us back out to the shore, to a long embankment. We got out of the car and walked as far as we could, just above the water.

Police boats were on heavy patrol after the chaos last night but no one cared about three people and a baby standing outside watching the ocean on a warm spring morning.

In the distance, the wreckage of a large ship bobbed in the waves, and somewhere out there, was also the body of a girl.

I looked up at Chu Zihang. The tears rolled down his face in silence.

He was no doubt remembering her.

“Zihang...” I said, quietly. “There’s only so much time to lay awake at night and remember things. Tell me what you want to remember. Between the both of us, we won’t forget. When did you first meet her?”

“On the train.” He said simply. Then he added. “She had a ponytail and dark rimmed glasses. She held her skirt because she was nervous.”

“The enrollment form was complicated. I figured she would need help with it. So I asked her. I found out that her English wasn’t fluent. So I decided to keep helping her, since mine was better.”

“She said she was nervous because she was on a train full of monsters. I said... Here when a monster meets a monster, it’s a relative.”

“After we got off the train, things were chaotic if you didn’t understand where to go. I didn’t know either but I could ask. I told her to wait for me. I would go ask someone. I took too long. By the time I got back, she looked sad like I had left her alone...”

He stopped talking, overcome. His jaw clenched and a soft painful sigh escaped him.

“We sat next to each other in class at times. Sometimes had lunch. She would cheer for me in rowing.”

“She seemed like such a reliable person. When I found the secret of the Blood Rage technique, I couldn’t talk to anyone about it... but I really wanted to.”

“When I saw her reading books in the library, I said to myself. You can tell her. I just gave her my notes. Told her to read it for herself and not tell others.”

“We didn’t discuss it again.”

He looked back up over the waves. “She remembered me in the end. She thanked me. I don’t know for what.” His shoulders lifted.

“She took care of me, while you were gone.” I whispered. “Even when everyone acted like I was crazy... she was always kind to me. She held my hand.”

“We should go.” Zihang abruptly turned away and walked back to the car. Whatever else he was remembering, he wasn’t going to share.

I didn’t follow him. Instead, I turned to Mingfei. “How’s Nono?”

“ICU.” He said roughly. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you guys are alright.”

“We can’t leave her here...” I shook my head.

“We don’t have any choice. The people from the Crane group said that we have a few hours at most before Kaguya goes down. And that was over an hour ago. We have to move now and she can’t be moved now.”

“Who’s going to protect her?” I asked. 

“Caesar. As soon as we can, we get in touch with him. He’s not going to take what they’ve done lightly.”

“Is he on our side?”  I pursed my lips in doubt.

He chuckled, waving his hand and going back to the car. “He’s on his own side.”

Lu Mingfei drove like a mad man through the Tokyo streets. The moment Kaguya was breached, EVA’s electronic tentacles would penetrate all major networks in Japan at the speed of light, whether it was emails, bank accounts, transportation systems, or even customs. All of them would fall under her domain.

The Tokyo Port Authority had clamped down on sea routes and now our best bet was the airport. So long as Kaguya was up, she would cover our trail.

After that? None of us were sure with the exception of Chu Zihang. After we got in the car he looked at Lu Mingfei and said, “They deceived her. And then they killed her.”

For him, the mission was simple: Destroy those behind Susie’s death.

Lu Mingfei slammed on the brakes, throwing me against my seatbelt. bumper to bumper traffic blocked our path. “What’s going on? Is it an accident?”

“It’s a little crazy.”  Lu leaned out the window to see ahead.

We were only a mile from the airport but everything was stopped. “Zihang can you ch-”

“All the lights are red on the expressway.” On the supply run, he’d acquired a smart phone. I wasn’t sure it was wise, but as the president of Lionheart, his hacking and security skills were beyond my comprehension.

“Shit...” Mingfei hissed. “EVA’s early.”

Zihang’s golden eyes shifted like a knife to his throat. “Not around the baby.”

“Sorry... sorry...” He muttered.

“What are we going to do? They’re probably on their way here now!” I said, referring to the new group sent to hunt us down.

“We can’t just run it... we would barely make it in time and then would still have to go through the security checks.”

A few nerve wracking seconds later, the phone rang. It was a car phone. This really was an antique.

We all stared at it, then glanced at each other. Lu Mingfei pressed the answer button but no one spoke.

“Don’t be scared. It’s me.” The caller’s voice was hoarse and sounded very tired.

“Crow!” I exclaimed smiling.

Ru’Yi immediately stirred, her dark eyes blinking open.

“Saeki.. it’s Saeki...” He started coughing.

“Are you okay...?”

“How’s my princess?” 

“She’s alright. She... just woke up.”

“I’m glad you made it, man. You had me worried.” Lu Mingfei sighed. “We’re stuck in traffic. Can you give us a hand?”

“Yeah... and... I’m sorry to say... I didn’t make it, actually. They got me.”

I leaned back, feeling drained and empty with shock. “Oh... no... I told you...” I hung my head looking at little Ru’Yi who was searching the room for her Uncle Crow.

“Fujiwara Shinnosuke,” said Crow. “That guy is from the Gattuso family. I didn’t see that the Gattuso family were against Mrs. Chen. Be careful and kill him when you see him. Don’t give him any leeway. His Soul Skill is Time Zero.”

“Time Zero?” I whispered, head lifting.

“What do you mean against Ms. Chen? You mean, the Gattusos want to kill her?!” Lu Mingfei gripped the steering wheel in horror.

“That’s exactly what I mean...”

“I left her at the hospital! Crow!”

“Got it... got it... I’ll send someone. Meantime, I can see your location. I’ll direct you to a small private airstrip. One of my guys will fly you out.”

I buried my face in my hands, sobbing in the back seat. “Crow...I told you... if you die now, Ru’Yi won’t remember you!”

“I know... But it’s okay. My own dad will forget me too... but don’t you worry. Her being alive, that’s all I care about.”

“I can’t repay you for this.” Zihang said softly.

“No need. It was my pleasure.” He coughed. “Oh Mingfei... I want to leave a phone number for you. Write it down. When you’re stuck again. Call it.”

He quickly scribbled down the number and then banged the steering wheel in helpless fury. He settled his head on it, fighting tears.

“Not far ahead of you, there’s a fork off the highway, take it and keep driving until you see a private driveway. The plane is there.”

Lu Mingfei tilted his head out the window, shouting in Japanese that I was pregnant and in labor and needed to get off the highway.

The cars ahead suddenly shifted to allow us to use the shoulder and take the exit. After getting off, it turned out to be an unmarked service road not shown on the map. The car roared to top speed and soon we saw the private tarmac that was surrounded by a barbed wire fence.

“Yes! Okay, everyone out!”

“Are you still there?” Crow asked.

“Yeah! I’m here!”

“The plane’s blue and white, with the picture of a bird on the tail. Right?”

“Yeah! That’s it... Crow...” Mingfei’s voice choked up. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey... pull it together. Only Carli’s allowed to cry now.” He gave a low groaning cough, his voice growing strained. “The plane’s too small to fly far so you’ll have to make new arrangements when you land. As soon as you get on, he’s authorized to fly without delay. Time’s a bit tight. This is all I can do.”

“It’s more than enough.” He said shakily.

I turned and unbuckled Ru’Yi taking the child seat with me.

“Carli.”

I stopped when Crow addressed me.

“There’s more in the back. Stuff for you.”

I covered my face with my hand. “Crow... I’m going to miss you.” I whimpered. I took a deep breath and slid the rest of the way out of the car with Ru’Yi.

Zihang got out and circled around and gave me a tight all encompassing hug. I buried my tears in his shoulder.

He whispered directly in my ear. “I know you care about Crow. But he’s been compromised too many times and now he’s dead.”

I looked up at him, unsure about what he was saying.

“I’m not going to trust his pilot.” He looked at me directly, his eyes dry.

I stared stunned. He was right. “Can you fly the plane?”

“The model is old. But I’ve flown something like this before. I can do it.” He turned as Mingfei shut the door and tossed the keys in the front seat.

“Yeah?” Mingfei blinked at him.

“I’m flying it.”  Johann strode toward the plane that had lowered it’s stairs.

“Eh? But!”

“Here, help me with Ru’Yi’s things!” I told him. “Hurry!”

In the trunk were more diapers and toys and other things. I had a hard time keeping my composure but managed to only sob once or twice.

By the time we had boarded, Johann had the pilot at sword point. His arms were up and he watched us board with clear and open terror. “Please just... just put the sword down... I’ll get off.”

I settled Ru’Yi’s child carrier in the airplane seat.

“Hey, Zihang, that’s enough...” Mingfei was saying.

I looked up in time to see the man backing away toward the door of the plane, chased by the point of Tongzi. Johann turned to go to the cockpit. 

Mingfei went to shut the door. His eyes widened and a shot rang out. Blood spattered and stained the cheap upholstery.

Chu Zihang was out of the cockpit unnaturally fast, pursuing the pilot. I rushed to the door and knelt next to Mingfei who was on the ground and screaming as if he were being burned alive.

The bullet had entered his arm, just above his elbow, but there was enough blood to suggest a chest wound. The flesh around where the bullet had entered seemed to dissolved and soften.

Zihang returned, Tongzi dripping red on the floor. He took one look at Mingfei and hissed. “He used a Sage Stone bullet! Give me Spider Fang!”

Without a second thought, I handed the sword to him. He drew it, lifted Mingfei’s hand, and severed his arm above the elbow. I howled in horror at the sight as he tossed it away.

“Get the first aid kit, there should be a tourniquet.” He knelt next to him and squeezed his arm, putting full pressure on it. 

I scrambled for the kit and found it in the bright red box and returned. Zihang opened it and found the leather strap and began to tie it tight around his arm. By now, Mingfei had lost enough blood so that he was pale and shaking.

“We’ve got to take off. Get him to use Don’t Die, Meixiu. And after that, use Release to lower his dragon blood purity.”

He pushed past me to the cockpit.

I looked into his eyes. “Mingfei... Mingfei... you have to say it with me. Don’t Die. Don’t Die.”

He moaned, gasping for air. “Erii....”

The plane started to turn and then immediately accelerated.

“Don’t Die... Mingfei say it... Say it... Please...” 

The plane lifted off, tilted up at a high angle of attack, speeding into the air. 

Denial filled me.  If he died, it was over, it was all over. This world would never change. I’d be hunted forever. Ru’Yi would be hunted forever. Her daughter and her daughter after her. “Don’t Die... Don’t Die...!”

I suddenly heard Ru’Yi’s yell. It rang like a bell in my head and I turned, but she was just in her child carrier.

When I looked back, Mingfei’s Soul Skill had taken effect. He was healing. “Yes... Yes!” I swallowed hard. “Release.”

I didn’t want hurt him too much. But Sage stones were more effective the higher ones Dragonblood purity. Mingfei was too weak to even cry out as I forced him from S-ranked hybrid all the way down to B rank. His eyes slid shut and he lay still.

I sat back on my hands, covered in blood. I watched his chest until I saw it rise.