#carmen seizes power

[lefemmerougewriter]

Flight of the Eagle and the Rise of President Sandiego

Carmen begins her plan to seize power in the most powerful country on Earth. Can Zack and Ivy stop her before it is too late?

Characters: Carmen Sandiego, Zack, Ivy, The Chief, Mr. X (Original character)

Friendships: Zack and Ivy

Romantic pairings: None

Words: 774

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53671957

Wattpad: N/A

Quotev: N/A

A/N: I originally wrote this short fic on my phone a while back, but decided to finish it up before publication. It is a pretty wild ride. I might end up continuing it one day.

The date was January 27, 2000. Explosions rocked the joint session of Congress where President Bill Clinton was giving his State of the Union address. He and his cabinet advisors were incapacitated by the rubble. The designated survivor for an event such of this was Bill Richardson, then the Secretary of Energy. However, he never had a chance. He was quickly kidnapped and disappeared to who knows where. The screen cackled and a broadcast came on every channel. A voice began speaking. It came from a woman dressed in red fedora, coat, and red high-heels. It was the infamous Carmen Sandiego.

"Fellow Americans, you may know me as the infamous thief known across the world. But, like all of you, I am interested in order and bringing the criminals who perpetrated this horrible crime to justice. In a time of great turmoil, we need order, instead of disorder. With my organization and ability, I can bring stability to this country. As of now, I am assuming the office of the Presidency of the United States and will bring the wicked criminals who did this to justice. I would like to say..."

The screen turned off. Ivy and Zack were aghast. How could Carmen engage in such a naked coup to seize power? Didn't anyone else see her plans, that she was a malicious actor? Wasn't it obvious that the explosion in Congress and the kidnapping of Bill Richardson were perpetrated by Carmen? Zack asked what everyone was thinking: "Chief, what should we do now? Everyone thinks that Carmen is a savior, bringing order and stability."

The Chief sighed. "Well, catching Carmen is still our top priority. Gumshoes, I don't trust her cleaned up act. You need to nab her...in the act, and stop this coup d'etat." Ivy took his words to heart. She declared, "Player, C5 us to the Oval Office, White House, Washington, D.C." The narrator began speaking.

"You are leaving sunny, San Francisco, and going to Washington, D.C., the capital of the U.S.A. The White House was first built in the 1790s but was burned down by the British on August 24, 1814. It was then rebuilt, with work by enslaved and free laborers. Since then, it has been the permanent place of residence for all U.S. presidents, the center of the U.S. government and the executive branch. Next stop, Washington, D.C.!"

Zack and Ivy arrived in front of the resolute desk, surprising Carmen. She was dressed in a red suit, but with wearing her trademark red fedora, and facing away from them. Ivy, putting her hands on the desk, shouted. "Carmen, the buck stops here! You are under arrest for your terrorism, kidnapping, and an illegal coup d’état!"

Carmen chuckled like conniving hyena. She shook her head. "Oh, Ivy, how wrong you are. While you, and Zack, are here much earlier than I expected, I can use your impolite interruption to my advantage. Guards, take them away!"

Not long after, Ivy and Zack were handcuffed by the surrounding Secret Service personnel and taken away. Carmen began a new speech, again addressed at the American people. It was the perfect excuse for her to take absolute power. Zack and Ivy had played right into her hands, as she had expected. As Zack and Ivy they were taken away in cuffs, the screen crackled:

"Tonight, two individuals tried to arrest me. They wanted me behind bars. But it is them that should be imprisoned. Those two people, Zack and Ivy, are agents of a secret organization, ACME, which might as well be called the American Crime Management Extraordinaires. What we need now is a war on these evildoers. ACME must be crushed. We will hunt them down from the bay of Biscay to the shores of Tokyo. This is something that must be won, it must be victorious. I ask for your blessing in bringing these criminals to justice."

The broadcast ended. Dr. X, one of her closest advisors, was worried. He wasn't sure she was doing the right thing. He asked, "Ma'am, do we really want to destroy ACME? Wouldn't it be better to keep them around?"

Carmen brushed off his question and cackled. "Why, of course, I don't want to destroy them. They are a worthy adversary. The whole thing is a schlep. I just need them as an excuse to stay in power. There is no need to crush ACME. Instead, I will only have individual agents apprehended, using the powerful tool of extraordinary rendition. It is all too easy to commit terrorism, to instill fear for political ends.”

To be continued...

End note: For information on presidential succession, I used webpages from thoughtco, infoplease, politico, refinery29, mvets.law.gmu.edu, senate.gov, popsugar, presidency.ucsb.edu, and bestlifeonline. The Carmen Sandiego speech at the end is somewhat inspired by an Anti-Flag song, “Mind The G.A.T.T.” Also the part about the "schlep" was undoubtedly inspired by that episode of Futurama ("A Taste of Freedom") where Zoidberg's people do a show of force to convince DOOP to back off. This fic is a bit cynical of how easy it is to seize power in this country, but that's part of the point.

[makingqueerhistory]

Spooky Queer Books

Since spooky season is starting, I thought I would share a list of my favourite queer books that are great for this time of year.

Some of these links are affiliate links.

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror

Joe Vallese

Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes--such as the circumspect and resilient "final girl," body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet--spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer's Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.

Into the Drowning Deep

Mira Grant

The ocean is home to many myths, But some are deadly... Seven years ago the Atargatis set off on a voyage to the Mariana Trench to film a mockumentary bringing to life ancient sea creatures of legend. It was lost at sea with all hands. Some have called it a hoax; others have called it a tragedy. Now a new crew has been assembled. But this time they're not out to entertain. Some seek to validate their life's work. Some seek the greatest hunt of all. Some seek the truth. But for the ambitious young scientist Victoria Stewart this is a voyage to uncover the fate of the sister she lost. Whatever the truth may be, it will only be found below the waves. But the secrets of the deep come with a price.

The Devouring Gray

C. L. Herman

After her sister's death, seventeen-year-old Violet Saunders finds herself dragged to Four Paths, New York. Violet may be a newcomer, but she soon learns her mother isn't: They belong to one of the revered founding families of the town, where stone bells hang above every doorway and danger lurks in the depths of the woods. Justin Hawthorne's bloodline has protected Four Paths for generations from the Gray--a lifeless dimension that imprisons a brutal monster. After Justin fails to inherit his family's powers, his mother is determined to keep this humiliation a secret. But Justin can't let go of the future he was promised and the town he swore to protect. Ever since Harper Carlisle lost her hand to an accident that left her stranded in the Gray for days, she has vowed revenge on the person who abandoned her: Justin Hawthorne. There are ripples of dissent in Four Paths, and Harper seizes an opportunity to take down the Hawthornes and change her destiny--to what extent, even she doesn't yet know. The Gray is growing stronger every day, and its victims are piling up. When Violet accidentally unleashes the monster, all three must band together with the other Founders to unearth the dark truths behind their families' abilities...before the Gray devours them all.

Tell Me I'm Worthless

Alison Rumfitt

Three years ago, Alice spent one night in an abandoned house with her friends, Ila and Hannah. Since then, Alice's life has spiraled. She lives a haunted existence, selling videos of herself for money, going to parties she hates, drinking herself to sleep. Memories of that night torment Alice, but when Ila asks her to return to the House, to go past the KEEP OUT sign and over the sick earth where teenagers dare each other to venture, Alice knows she must go. Together, Alice and Ila must face the horrors that happened there, must pull themselves apart from the inside out, put their differences aside, and try to rescue Hannah, whom the House has chosen to make its own. Cutting, disruptive, and darkly funny, Tell Me I'm Worthless is a vital work of trans fiction that examines the devastating effects of trauma and how fascism makes us destroy ourselves and each other.

[astarionbae]

Bibi Reverie is the daughter of the infamous Red Haired Shanks and ex-Marine Nara Reverie, and is the cabin boy for the Straw Hats Pirates. When she was younger, she and her mother sailed with the Red Hair Pirates to stay a step ahead of the Marines that her mother had betrayed. Making camp on an island, Nara had picked a Devil Fruit and cooked a meal for her daughter who been starving, which granted her powers of the Rumble Rumble fruit. That night, when the Marines attacked her mother, Bibi unleashed her newfound ability on a devastating scale. At age nine with the Red Hair Pirates, they had set up a base at Foosha Village in the East Blue and Bibi met a seven year old boy named Monkey D. Luffy. The two instantly hit it off, forming a friendship that kept them bonded for the rest of their days. Seeing how Bibi was never truly allowed to have a proper childhood, Shanks decided it was in best decision for her to stay at the Foosha Village until Higuma quickly broke that pipe dream. Shanks relocated his daughter to the training and care of Dracule "Hawk-Eye" Mihawk, and left her for her own sake of safety. Sometime during the age of being seventeen, now going by the name of Aka R. Bibi and donning blonde locks, she met Roronoa Zoro and began a relationship with the well known "Pirate Hunter". After a year of ups and downs, few bumps and scrapes, hard truths and white lies, the two eventually broke it off and gone their separate ways. She set voyage to Shells Town where she stayed and regularly visited Food Foo on a daily basis. During the morning of her nineteenth birthday, Bibi is surprised to reunited with her childhood best friend Luffy, ex-boyfriend Zoro, and a cat-buglar named Nami, discovering that they had just stolen a map to the Grand Lane and are beginning their search for the One Piece.

taglist: @aliverse, @jewishbarbies, @maddyperiez, @asirensrage, @richitozier, @oneirataxia-girl, @endless-hoppington, @carmens-garden, @squirrelstone, @lucys-chen, @rey-of-luke, @reysfinn, @fandomqueenlove, @mmmayflower2016, @bravelittleflower, @kiara-carrera, @susiesamurai, @witchofinterest, @heresthefanfiction, @margoshansons, @starcrossedjedis, @zoyazenik, @dyhlanobrien, @eddiemunscns, @bisexualterror, @waterloou, @claryxjackson, @dreamerwithapen1, @seize-the-droid, @foxesandmagic, @harleyquinnzelz, @anotherunreadblog, @kendelias, @phoebestarks, @anqelwiithhxrns, @the-multifandommess-blog, @bobfloydsbabe, @decennia, @enchanted--roses, @arrthurpendragon, @come-along-pond

[amaryllisthegheist]

Blog Directory

Hello and welcome everyone, this is a blog primarily dedicated to the various stories I write and a lot of my art. Secondary blog to @myths-of-fantasy

Major Projects

Ignavus - A warrior ccats inspired Xenomoggy series with its own blog here on cohost.

The Earth 470 Project - A fleetingly worked on DCEU project where I am building up an alien species that was nearby Krypton and thus, acted as a refugee planet for a decent amount of their people

Sable Wren - An original story that started as a school project that is being developed very, very slowly

Troubled Times - A Percy Jackson Inspired story that will probably go on to be an original work, following twins Percy and Kiara as they navigate the supernatural world, get accused of serial murder and stop an evil bastard from manipulating children

Lesser Projects

Creed - A somewhat selfish assassin stumbles her way into becoming the respect lord of a city during the explosion of a violent gang-war and learns to love her found family along the way

Lurking Dragons - Before Caitlyn, there was a woman that Ned Stark loved beyond all else, a leader and spitfire that he was pained to give up for his duty. When he dies at King's Landing, Analliah flips out the dragon-queen seeks out the Mother of Dragons to right a few (hundred) wrongs.

Boss Music - Light Yagami's stunt as Kira attracts the attention of a particular powerful gheist who promptly performs an audit on Death's Servants, unknowingly setting off a ripple effect of events. The Shinigami King never saw her coming.

Exodus - A fic of a fic, Exodus is the 'what if Firestar left' of the story Exile

Sleeping Giants - The Gamer Naruto featuring a half yokai girl who has Player 2 mechanics.

Story Directories

Some of my works have fully assembled directories or multiple posts to be navigated

The Farlands - A post-magical apocalypse world originally inspired by warriors but well on its way to becoming its own thing with just a few name changes. Oh, and it was sparked by the idea that after enough time suffering, eventually life adapts. Ao3 | Wattpad

The Black Wolf Capers - A Carmen Sandiego AU series features magic and an OC known as The Black Wolf who gave up everything to keep Carmen happy. Ao3 | Wattpad

Impulsive works

A Stalwart Survivor - Lara Croft has forged herself into the perfect channel and champion of a long forgotten goddess of survival and everyone else deals with the insanity that follows it

Stardust in Her Eyes - A wordgirl fic but I went a little bit insane, invented a new species and really leaned into the underlying tragedy of what it means for this series to be based on Superman XD

Shadows in the Mirror - Rusty is a faefolk wandering among mortals running from his mother, who seized control of the summer throne after his father's death

The Outsiders - Rusty's sister Kite rules a powerful Syndicate of outside cats not far from clan territory, and it's there that he takes Ravenpaw, convinced that his little sister would take perfectly good care of him

[k-apme-h-salzc-a]

Let’s live, Lesbia mine, and love — and as for

scandal, all the gossip, old men’s strictures,

value the lot at no more than a farthing

Suns can rise and set ad infinitum —

for us, though, once our brief life’s quenched, there’s only

one unending night that’s left to sleep through.

Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred,

then a thousand more, a second hundred,

then yet another thousand then a hundred—

then when we’ve notched up all these many thousands,

shuffle the figures, lose count of the total,

so no maleficent enemy can hex us

knowing the final sum of all our kisses.

~ “Carmen Quinque” Catullus 5, transl. Peter Green

Catullus 5 is a passionate ode to Lesbia and one of the most famous poems by Catullus. It is a passionate and romantic poem that urges the speaker and their beloved, Lesbia, to seize the day and indulge in their love. It reflects the themes of carpe diem, the transience of life, and the power of love. The poem’s simple yet evocative language conveys a sense of urgency and abandon.

[womenindiplomacyday]

The rule of law has continued to decline globally for the fifth year in a row.

The world is slowly recovering from the COVID-19 pandemic. But the blow it struck to the rule of law remains persistent and widespread, according to fresh survey data collected in 140 countries. While declines in performance were not as extreme as in 2021, this year’s findings from the World Justice Project’s Rule of Law Index underscore the alarming drops in nearly every rule of law factor measured, especially in fundamental rights and checks and balances, which are two critical pillars of the rule of law.

Overall, these trends toward authoritarianism and away from rules-based liberal democracy portend dark trouble ahead. As big-power geopolitical competition continues to heat up, the differences in how states govern themselves will have outsized influence in shaping solutions to some of our most intractable problems – digital disruption and disinformation, corruption and illicit trafficking, and outright war. Russia’s illegal invasion of Ukraine, and its sophisticated disinformation tactics, shows just how dangerous this divergence has become.

Global trends – negative, with some exceptions

Around the world, the rule of law, as measured by eight factors – ranging from constraints on government power and open government, to fair justice systems and order and security – has entered its fifth straight year of recession. These negative trends, based on surveys in which over 157,000 legal experts and households report their experiences and perceptions of rule of law practices in their respective countries, have been driven mainly by growing authoritarian tendencies, such as weaker checks and balances, rising impunity, and an erosion of fundamental rights.

Freedoms of expression and association, the lifeblood of democratic decision-making, have been particularly hard hit, with declines in over 80% of countries surveyed since 2015. The transfer of political power in accordance with the law, which includes perceptions of the legality, integrity, and public scrutiny of electoral processes, also fell in two-thirds of surveyed countries during this time period. The intensifying competition for securing control of government is getting nastier by the year, with media, minorities, and dissidents in the crosshairs. Where power is unfairly or violently seized, as in Sudan, Haiti, and Myanmar, the rule of law is badly damaged and civil conflict worsens; where elections are open and peaceful, the rule of law rebounds, as in Honduras and, slowly and with some difficulty, the United States.

Europe, and its neighbors, continue to improve

The big exception to these negative global trends is Europe, where nine of this year’s top ten rule of law performers can be found. Historically a strong performer, the region also continues to improve at higher rates than anywhere else, with over one-half of the index’s top 25 improvers globally since 2015. The construction of a Europe “whole and free” continues apace, built on a foundation of rule of law, human rights, and democracy, with notably strong scores on judicial integrity, open government, and fair regulatory enforcement. Newer European Union (EU) members like Estonia and Lithuania are making consistent gains; Romania and Bulgaria, though still lagging, also bumped up this year. And EU accession candidates Moldova and Kosovo were among 2022’s top five improvers globally, adding some wind in their sails for EU membership, which requires strict adherence to rule of law norms.

INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS- Democracy’s Defenders, by Norman L. Eisen.

U.S. FOREIGN POLICYThe Problem of Democracy: America, the Middle East, and the Rise and Fall of an Idea, by Shadi Hamid.

U.S. GOVERNMENT & POLITICS- Investing in Democracy, Carmen Sirianni; March 10, 2009.

Despite bouncing back better than other regions from the rule of law backsliding induced by the pandemic, Europe is still suffering important long-term declines in such areas as discrimination, freedom of assembly, and lawful transitions of power. Notorious cases like Poland and Hungary, where rule of law scores have fallen around ten percent since 2015, validate why EU authorities are finally drawing the line. Brussels is enforcing its members’ own treaty obligations to demand course corrections or pay a hefty penalty, as Hungarian Prime Minister Victor Orbán faces now.  EU neighbors Turkey, Georgia, and Bosnia also exhibit significant multi-year declines.

The steady improvement in rule of law practices experienced in most of Europe is now reaching more states on its eastern flank. This includes several next-door neighbors of a revanchist Russia and its cousin Belarus, two states that rank among the biggest decliners since 2015. Reform-minded regimes in Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine, for example, are among the top ten improvers globally in their rule of law performance since 2015; meanwhile Russia and Belarus continue to fall in the opposite direction. Not surprisingly, Ukraine’s score fell in 2022 after Russian President Vladimir Putin’s military invaded the country, but over time it has demonstrated some improvements in fundamental rights, order and security, and regulatory enforcement. Its ability to turn back Russian forces and return to the path of democratization, especially the fight against entrenched corruption, will determine its chances of joining the EU anytime soon.

China and India – a race to the bottom?

Two other rising powers with very different governing systems nonetheless share some worrying traits when it comes to rule of law. China, which the index ranked 95 out of 140 states, and India, at 77, are virtually tied in their respective declines in rule of law scores since 2015, by -1.6% and -1.7% respectively. Chinese President Xi Jinping’s successful consolidation of China’s Communist Party leadership this month, now with even fewer checks on his power, portends even weaker rule of law adherence in the future. Beijing’s strong-arm crackdown against peaceful protesters and the media in Hong Kong, which has fallen five years in a row on its rule of law score, is further evidence of a China that is closing ranks against any internal challenges to its one-party rule. This likely increases the chances of more aggressive behavior against its perceived rivals, as well as a democratizing Taiwan.

Meanwhile India, the world’s largest democracy, once had an encouraging trajectory toward more open government and robust public debate, but no more. Since Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi consolidated his power at the helm, India’s rule of law performance has declined markedly in criminal justice (-17.7%), fundamental rights (-12.8%), and checks and balances (-6.3%). Falling scores on the integrity of police and military officials, freedoms of religion and expression (particularly targeted against Muslim minorities and around disputed claims in Kashmir), and non-discrimination drove the erosion, despite some improvements in administrative due process, accessibility of civil justice, and legislative branch corruption. But because it is increasingly aligned with its Indo-Pacific partners as a security check against China’s ambitions, New Delhi largely has gotten a pass on these alarming trends.

The United States slowly rebalances after Trump

Once a self-proclaimed champion on rule of law around the world, the United States fell five years in a row under former U.S. President Donald Trump’s presidency. In 2022 it recovered its footing, increasing in all eight factors measured by the index. Compared to 2015, however, it still is underwater on such key pillars as checks and balances, accountability for official misconduct, and lawful transitions of power. Its abysmally low global ranking on discrimination in both the civil and criminal justice systems (121 and 106, respectively) is embarrassing. To his credit, U.S. President Joe Biden has tried to thread the needle to restore some of Washington’s credibility as a leading democracy, at home and abroad, as demonstrated by his robust defense of Ukraine, his new national security strategy focused on the threat of a menacing and anti-democratic China, and his Summit for Democracy initiative. But much more work needs to be done by all concerned to put the United States on a better course for the future.

Washington must also contend with a deteriorating security and rule of law situation on its southern border: Venezuela, Nicaragua, and Haiti figure in the bottom ten countries for rule of law globally, generating millions of migrants to the United States and the region. Brazil, mostly under Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s watch, has declined five years in a row. And countries like Bolivia, El Salvador, Mexico, and Colombia remain declining performers in key governance areas such as control of corruption, criminal justice, and order and security.

In sum, global trends toward and away from rules-based and rights-respecting governance are increasingly matching up with the fault lines of intensifying geopolitical competition around the globe. The multipolar world at our doorstep is not only messy, volatile, and insecure; it also raises existential questions of how power is shared and human dignity is protected. To prevent the next big titanic clash, the United States, Europe, and its other like-minded allies will need smart strategies both to shore up their own performance as open and just societies and to defend vigorously those values abroad.

The rule of law has continued to decline globally for the fifth year in a row.

[bibaybe]

10 Songs, 10 People

thanks for the tag, @wordspin-shares!

Rules: list ten songs, then tag ten people to pass the game on to! (bonus points if it’s from a wip/character playlist!)

this is from ruby’s playlist, my young royals oc!

perfect places - lorde

seize the power - yonaka

numb - LINKIN PARK

all the ways i could die - arrows in action

in the woods somewhere - hozier

drown - bring me the horizon

hold on - extreme music

scar so easily - spark alaska

take me away - avril lavigne

breakfast - dove cameron

tagging: @cotton-candy-haze @richitozier @nolanhollogay @dancingsunflowers-ocs @veetlegeuse @partiallypearl @lilac-lemonade @nejires-hado @carmens-garden @darth-caillic

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Find the Word tag

For this one I was tagged by @sleepyowlwrites, who kindly sent me scurrying to scour my WIPs for the words want, desire, yearn, long, dream, hunger, and anticipate.

I went back to Archipelago like an old lover returning to the comfort of what she knows, but with mixed results. I couldn't find that last word anywhere, which I think is the first time my beloved epic fantasy has found its vocabulary limited in one of these games - and on a seemingly innocuous word at that!

Want

“You bastard.” This time he managed spit, but the phlegm hung from his mouth and soiled his nightshirt as much as the floor. Quin might have imagined it, but he thought that he saw some tears drop down as well. “I know you’ve dreamed of this for months, but now you’ve done it, okay? You’ve won. You’ve seized my fortunes, my house, my title… and now you chase me from the city that I’ve called my home. What more do you want from me? What more could I possibly have to give?!”

Desire

Irma had always found it odd how the tales that caught her students’ attention most were the worst ones, as if the more appalled they’d be by a truth the more they needed to hear it. The nose would shy away from an abhorrent smell, the tongue would spit out a disgusting taste, but for some reason the brain craved hideous thoughts and nightmares of phantoms and murderers. Every other part of body wanted to be soothed, but the mind had a desire for discomfort - a morbid fascination with the macabre.

Yearn

Carmen was every bit the strategist that Elan wasn’t, but she had been left to yearn for the kind of respect he’d always had. She had never been a soldier herself, and it was hard to win over the hearts of their ranks without that shared experience: from Caro in Victory to Alsa in Bluebow, from the Silo’s Samara to Kendra next-door in Oldgate, almost all of her cousins in this post had risen thanks to their deeds with a sword, not a quill. In Harmony, some soldiers had called her a coward behind her back - and the rest had said it to her face.

Long

That illusion lasted for as long as they had waves to wear, a swirling gown of turquoise blue that spun around them as they danced to its gentle melody. But as soon as they were washed up on the shore, the magic died: it took just one day for them to fully desiccate, their frail forms dissolving into dust, until they were left as nothing but a shallow imprint in the sand. As ever, Serena’s touch was the only difference between life and death - between the joys of existence and the absence of anything at all.

Dream

Asked the source of his golden tongue, the boy Lan had claimed complete dedication: he said that he thought in the language of musical notes, slept to the rhythm of his never resting heart, and dreamt in impossible symphonies. He said that he made melody a part of him, and so he only needed to open his mouth and songs took flight of their own accord. The crew had laughed him out of the tavern, but now Aden wondered if there wasn't some truth in all of that. He thought in waves, and fell asleep drifting on an outbound tide. Perhaps the ocean really was a part of him, just like the rainmakers said it was in everyone.

Hunger

They could harness its heat for a time, just as a sail could borrow power from the wind, but they only dealt in fragments of a true might that they didn’t dare unleash. That had been the first lesson, administered with a burn to the hand on their first day, a dwindling splint each initiate tried in vain to hold: a captain could use that sail to steer his ship, but he could never hope to influence the storm, and it would kill him if he dared to try. Fire could be used for many tasks, but it was always held with fear of what it hungered to become.

I am no-pressure tagging recent interactions @dramaticvoiceover @lyralit @auberginesareberries @world-of-fire-and-flight and anybody else who fancies sharing :)

Your words, if you choose to accept them, are heat, borrow, hand, burn, held, and become.

[ginazmemeoir]

IT. IS. STORY. TIME.

and here you go with one of my favorite stories, ever.

tagging @dragonfairy1231 @mango-pickle @momo-all-the-way @the-fault-in-our-inquilab @aadyeah @holding-infinity-and-a-book @weird-u-deactivated20210917 @carmen-riddle @the-actual @taareginn @rebelliousrochelle @catsandbooksandstuff

@ people who i forgot to tag sorry

I can feel his breath on my shoulder, his husky, sweet as honey voice whispering in my ear, “Come. Be my queen Shachi. Become the queen of the devas.” I can feel his fingers leaving marks on my arms as I struggle to break free of his grip. I somehow manage to rip free of his clutches, and turn to face him, my face flush with fury. Nahusha, the temporary King of the Devas, had just crossed a line. But he just looks at me, his gaze making me feel as if I am being stripped naked, and then turns around with a smirk, his robes and ostentatious amount of gold flowing after him.

I stomp back to my palace. Indra had always been an impulsive person, but murdering Trishiras was not an accident – it was a paramount sin to kill a god. And now he has merrily fled away, leaving me and the rest of the devas to deal with his mess. I was actually the one who had voted for Nahusha to rule us while Indra was in exile. He was the most exemplary human being, plus being the son-in-law of Mahadev carried some legitimacy as well. Initially he was a better king than Indra - and then followed the same power that had corrupted the minds of those before him. First, he replaced those favoured by Indra, primarily the Maruts, the gods of wind. Then he disrespected Brihaspati. And then he turned his gaze on me. I wasn’t his paramour or his fancy, indeed I was another object of power for him to seize. I was the one who decided who got the throne. And only the man I was married to could become the true king of the devas. I sit on my divan, ruminating thus, and ask an apsara to fetch some soma for me. As the cooling effects of the liquor wash over me, a plan begins to form in my head. A plan which required the assistance of some of my closest friends.

The following night, I invite Guru Brihaspati over. He looks at me with sympathy and then sits down. “Gurudev, Nahusha has grown to be a menace.” “I agree Your Majesty. The council’s decision has proven to be – disastrous, to put it politely.” He says, wrinkling his nose. “As you know, he has now set his sight on me. You might be familiar with the erotic letters and the incident in the Nandaka Gardens?” Brihaspati averts his gaze, his nostrils flaring in anger. “Don’t worry Gurudev,” I placate him, “for I have a strategy to get rid of him, forever.” Having gained Brihaspati’s attention, I describe my plan to him, his face changing from worry to glee. “Brilliant Devarani! I must admit, your political acumen is frightening.” He admits, his hands glossing over the letter I hand him. Smiling, I stamp it with my seal – an elephant with a flower in its trunk – and instruct him to deliver it to Nahusha.

Brihaspati leaves soon after supper, and as the servants dim the lights in my palace, I lay in my bed, restless in anticipation of what was to follow the next morning. The first rays of sunlight break into my room after what feels like an eternity, and with them arrives Usha, the goddess of dawn, and my dear friend. I get up and hug her, her warmth permeating my being and filling it with hope. Her fair skin and blonde hair are in strike contrast to my own dusky skin and jet-black locks. “Shachi, it has been far too long dear friend” Usha says, holding me at arm’s length. “I need your help Usha, and there’s not much time. Help me find Indra.” “Why what happened?” she asks, oblivious as always. “Seriously? Where are you?” I ask in disbelief. “Sorry, it’s just most sneaky activities are carried out at night and not at dawn. But enough about that, follow me!” she replies sheepishly, then grabs my arm, and we both jump out of the window. I use my powers to cushion our fall as we land on her gleaming gold chariot, drawn by red cows and we gallop away into the horizon. Usha travels at the speed of light, as she brings dawn all over the world, scanning the universe for any trace of Indra. The hours fly by, and Usha begins turning her chariot towards the heavens. “Shachi, there isn’t much time left, I have to go back and let Lord Surya take charge now.” I am about to ask her for just some more time, when my gaze lands on Manasarovar, Mahadev’s sacred lake. I ask Usha to land there, and we land on the surface of the frozen lake, dotted by the occasional lotus. Usha assumes her full form, her rosy glow warming the chilly air and wielding her bow and arrow. I inspect the lake, and feel drawn to a particular lotus. I reach it hesitantly, and then cut open its stalk. And there, in the stalk of a random lotus in the Manasarovar, I find the mighty Indra, cowering in its safety. “Indra, it’s me, Shachi,” I begin, when Indra cuts me off. “Please return beloved. I am not worthy of love or respect. I have killed a god. There’s still a long way for me to atone repentance for my sins.” My anger, which was simmering until then, threatens to boil over. “Repentance. So your own reputation is more important to you than your wife and your subjects?” Indra looks at me, his face stricken. “I have been enduring the harshest of tapas here for eons and you have the gall to…” “YOU LEFT US TO COWER IS WHAT YOU DID. You have already repented by slaying Vritra with your Vajra. What more do you want? Your subjects are suffering, Nahusha lords over us, and he’s hell bent on having me. I married you Indra, and that makes you the rightful Devaraja. Come home now.” I reply. Indra looks at me remorsefully, and says, “I cannot return until the previous king is dethroned Shachi.” “Technically, you can’t take the throne while another king sits on it. But you can indeed return back to Swarga. And if I know Nahusha, my plan should be bearing fruit as we speak.” I interrupt him. “What plan?” asks Usha. “You will see. Now we must hasten Usha, for the wedding of all time.”

I return back to my palace just in time. I hide Indra in the gardens, and then ask my maids and apsaras to ready me. They bedeck me in the finest of fabrics woven out of air and mist, and celestial gold infused with Usha’s energy. Parijata flowers are braided into my hair, and I then wait at my palace gates atop Airavata, Indra’s elephant.

Brihaspati has executed my plan flawlessly. The streets of Amaravati are lined with numerous devis and devatas, apsaras and gandharvas, celebrating the marriage of their king to me. Nahusha rides atop an open palanquin, carried by none other than – the Saptarishis, the seven revered sages. I had told him to approach my palace atop a palanquin carried by the Saptarishis, and the naïve fool had agreed.

I can see the excitement on his face, alternating between his anger at the sages for their slow speed. Agastya’s short stature makes matters worse for the other rishis, resulting in the palanquin tilting towards one side. Some more time passed, and then Nahusha lost his cool. He kicks Agastya on his back, and his shout carries throughout the assembly - “MOVE STUPID OLD CRONE YOU WALK AS SLOW AS A LIZARD!” Everybody stands shocked. The sounds of trumpets and drums and veenas cease, while everybody else is mortified at the disrespect done to a Saptarishi. Agastya’s eyes however, blaze with fury. He slams the palanquin down on the ground, and then turns to face Nahusha, his anger making him seem larger than his height. “Listen, O vain descendant of Chandravansh, false king of the devas! I curse you to return back to earth,” roars Agastya, looking at Nahusha with a sly smile, “and spend the rest of your days as a lowly lizard yourself.” The lizard part was a fun addition, but I was indeed counting on Nahusha’s banishment. Agastya’s curse quickly shows its effect, and where once stood a king, now lay a lizard, quickly scampering its way out of Agastya’s legs, who tries to stomp on him.

I beckon Usha to retrieve Indra, who is brought before us in the same dishevelled state I found him in. And then, I begin. “Here you see Devaraja Indra, your true king. Slayer of Vritra, wielder of the mighty Vajra, absolved of all sins. Bow to your king, my loyal subjects, and bow to your queen!”

[lokisxmischief]

the rubble or our sins (Loki x Bucky)

Mentions: angst, flashbacks of trauma (torture/abuse) self loathing, torture...otherwise nothing else but some WinterFrost fluff

Loki had always felt so alone and for the longest time, he had come to terms with what seemed to be his fate; his destiny. He didn't say anything to anyone about it, about how he felt so low and worthless, he didn't dare out of the fear that he would be judged and that he would feel so vulnerable. It was better for him to keep every single emotion that he felt bottled up and pushed as far down as possible into the dark void of his soul; getting a broken heart for the umpteenth time just didn't seem worthwhile to the god and he knew that he might not survive further hurt. He was determined not to let anyone in and did all that he could to ensure that he kept that promise to himself, but there would soon come a day that he would find no matter how hard he tried or how much he denied it, that lock and chain was about to come off to free his guarded heart. It had just taken getting captured for that to occur, a very unexpected but not out of the ordinary day for the God of Mischief.

Shut up...

He could still hear Thor's voice saying those words to him and he recalled being smashed into the floor by the Hulk. The battle of New York was fresh in his mind and he remembered that he had managed to escape custody after the tesseract had skated closer to him. This was about all he could remember right now and a muffled groan emitted from his lips, the muzzle tight against them. Not quite the getaway location he had wanted to have, but at least he was now away from his brother and all of his avenging friends; those mortals that had fought them for the case weren't exactly the best kind to be in company of either. In fact, Loki didn't trust them as far as he could throw him and he could throw them pretty far, especially with his powers.

There wasn't much more than that Loki could remember. He had woken up in a bit of a daze and had somehow ended up in the middle of nowhere, the chains that his brother had placed on him in the Stark Tower were still intact and the muzzle still latched around his mouth. Cuts and bruises on his face were slowly healing as well. That much was clear to him.

Alright then give me the case...

Whose voice was that echoing in his head? What case exactly? Loki couldn't recall if it had been something he'd witnessed or was directly dealing with. Oh yes, he did remember something else. Stark had collapsed onto the floor, possibly dead after that. Maybe, he wasn't sure. After all, he had seized the opportunity to make a break for it as the tesseract skated on over in his direction. A subtle turn of his boot and he had bent down to grab it, teleporting the Hel out of there.

One thing was for sure－this recollection of bits and pieces of the past twenty-four hours was going to get real old, real fast. Only time would tell how quickly it would all come back to him. Perhaps this lack of memory was a side effect of the mind control; seemed as good an explanation as any.

Now, Loki knew that he had two options. He could idly sit here on the ground, waiting for some miraculous rescue to happen (to him, that seemed laughable) or he could attempt to figure out some sort of plan to get himself to a much more pleasurable locale; he chose the latter, as most in his predicament would do. Of course when your wrists had handcuffs around them, that wouldn't be all that simple but using most of the muscles in his thighs, Loki had managed to push himself up off the ground and back onto his feet. Step one, done. It was time to carry on and just as Loki was about to try this whole teleport-away-from-your-problems thing over again, the sudden realization hit him. It hit him real hard. The tesseract; where was it? He had held it this whole time up until now and glanced all around in the area that he had his crash landing but he couldn't seem to find it.

Oh just lovely, he had seemed to have lost it. There was no apparent blue glow coming from anywhere nearby and so he moved quickly, chains or no chains, to find that ever so precious blue cube and hopefully before anyone else could, if there was even any other form of life in this vast area. Perhaps some wildlife at most, it didn't seem as if there'd be any humans around. It was far too quiet though and he knew that fact in itself could be a bad omen. He would need to keep aware of his surroundings, as he's always done before.

I'm not going anywhere without it. I simply refuse to leave it behind and besides, it's not like I can go anywhere with these damned chains restricting my power.

That very thought and his impending actions would soon come to be a mistake, but he would find out just how bad of a mistake all in due time. With the wide open scenery, a large field that went on for miles into the horizon, surrounded by acres of bushes and forest, Loki was an easy to spot target, though he wasn't worried. He kept his senses keen as he continued to search for the tesseract and surely he would find it before any danger could see him. Doing that said task was easier said than done, but he was up for the challenge. He trudged through the rough, uneven soil (which was in obvious need of being cultivated) and kept walking around in hopes that he would soon locate the cube. Several minutes spent wandering about the land and after making a fair distance from the crash site, it had proved to be unsuccessful. Curses, all of that trudging through rough, itchy stubble for nothing. Alright, maybe he was being dramatic about that, as he did have his tall leather boots and pants on to protect him from that but he was kind of in a rush here. If you couldn't make a scene for yourself, who could you make one for? Needless to say, Loki was getting rather annoyed in being unable to locate the cube, let alone the very fact that he was stuck out here and couldn't get these forsaken chains off. It would've been a blessing if they could have just broken off with the impact of his fall; must have been some damn strong material. Seriously though. Where in the bloody nine realms was that tesseract? He wasn't in the mood for playing the intergalactic version of that popular Midgardian game 'Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?" This day was starting to crack his top ten worst days ever. Probably should have stayed in bed this morning, but it was far too late for that.

He neared the outer edge of some forest, about a good two miles south of where he had originally landed and pondered if it could've bounced all the way into the thicket of the shrubs and trees, then quickly shook off the notion. There was no way his landing would've given the tesseract that much momentum and a bad feeling formed in his chest, knowing exactly where the cube was now. In fact, he had a rather strong gut feeling about this, especially after having searched the whole radius of his landing spot and not seeing a single sign of the tesseract, not even a hint of its blue glow. Someone was nearby and had taken it, that was the only reasonable and most plausible explanation. Fantastic. He wasn't alone, though now he wished he was. Things could only get worse, much worse from here on out. A little danger was just what the doctor ordered though, perhaps Loki could get free of his shackles. At least he hoped that would happen.

"Looking for this?" A gruff male voice queried, flashing the trickster god an encased tesseract; in a black briefcase, the lid lifted up enough to provide a little peekage. Loki had turned himself in the direction which he heard the voice and glared at the man. How dare he take what was (rightfully) his? It was at that moment Loki made an internal oath to himself that he would get his payback for that. Oh, and would they ever be sorry. Many others stood behind him, hinting that perhaps he was in a position of authority over the rest; still not the highest rank of the group though.They were dressed in all black, had guns and knives on their person and overall, just had this vibe that told Loki they meant business. There was something familiar about these men too, as if he had seen them someplace before. Where exactly that was though remained a mystery.

Think Loki, think real hard, he urged himself. Nothing was coming back to him just yet. Norns, how hard did I hit my head, he had wondered, frustrated that he could barely recall things yet.

All he knew so far was that the Avengers had caught him, he was to go back to Asgard (after his brother stuffed his face with his friends whilst he waited outside chained down by Mjolnir without even thinking to offer him some nourishment) and would have to soon learn of what Asgardian justice would be served to him but that of course was before he had managed to nab the tesseract and ended up here in this mess now. All of the other details were still fairly foggy; or perhaps some weren't, but he didn't wish to remember certain things. Horrors, trauma. The fact that he was now looking at these men, their faces could almost give you nightmares. Those sorts of things.

"Oh look, he can't run his mouth and he's powerless right now. How lucky for us. Take him in boys," the man ordered, a dark expression on his face. The others nodded and did as they were told, struggling a bit as Loki attempted to shove them away and as one got closer than he should've to him, he made a swift move to grab his knife from his side. He could stab his way out of this, couldn't he? Sure he could and that's what he did. Or at least he tried to, only getting the one he had borrowed the knife from. Another man in the group had knocked it out of the god's hands and had soon knocked the currently powerless god out with one quick, brutal punch; might've helped that he had brass knuckles adorned on his hand, that and hitting him in just the right spot.

"On my way down to coordinate search and rescue..."

Captain Rogers? Why in Valhalla was he hearing his voice right now? Of all the times that it could be happening, spiraling down onto the ground as he blacked out. Another memory it seemed to be. Perhaps a good hint as to where he had seen these men before. Loki's vision had blurred in those brief few seconds it took for him to be rendered unconscious and following the sound of Cap's voice, he had heard one of the men chanting the words 'hail Hydra'; the others repeating it back to him for some apparent reason. Hydra－that seemed important to remember and he hoped he would upon awakening. Two of the men then grabbed him by his ankles and dragged him up to their van, where they picked him up and tossed him into the back of it. They chained him down to the floor just in case he would wake up before they returned to base and to be on the safe side should he attempt to escape from them. They had plans now for him and the cube; especially the cube. Horrific, unspeakable plans. To them, there was no time to waste and so they immediately sped off, heading back to their base after covering their tracks and the very spot where Loki had landed earlier.

Two hours later. Hydra base.

'Hail Hydra'.

Those words echoed in the god's mind repeatedly as he gradually came back to consciousness and he didn't know what exactly it was, but something about them gave him bad vibes. Loki groaned as he awakened more and his head ached a little (no thanks to that hard hit he had taken). He shook the awful feeling off, his long raven locks falling out of place; however so slightly. It wasn't like it mattered much anyway as his hair had already been disheveled from his earlier crash landing. Though his bruises and cuts had healed up. He squinted his eyes shut a couple of times, before allowing them to remain fully open and looked around at his surroundings. When he did that, he saw that he was in some dark, dingy place and got the sense that it had once been abandoned for some time; until these men took it over. This place certainly wasn't a five star resort, nor did it hold the pristine, golden status of the palace back in Asgard. It reeked of this strong, musty scent, causing the trickster to scrunch his nose up in disgust and the walls were stained with what appeared to be blood and probably many other substances－honestly, Loki didn't want to know what else was on the walls. He was sure that he'd hurl if he did. The floors were filthy, obviously in major need of a thorough cleaning and then some. Hel, it was probably better to just burn this place to the ground; that's how bad it was.

Where exactly was he and why was he here? It was the last place in the whole nine realms that he'd rather be. Wherever it was.

Loki kept thinking on those words and the longer he did it, the clearer things started to get. He soon recalled that some men dressed in black cargo pants and a shirt to match had a scuffle with him, which he told himself he would've won was it not for his shackles and he presumed that he was now in their base. Lovely, just freaking perfect. Cuffs sunk into his wrists, making his pale skin red around the edges; that annoyed him too, even if the marks would quickly heal once he found a way to get them off. He had to make a plan and make one fast, he could hear men's voices nearing the cell that he was locked up in. The muzzle had been taken off of him for some reason (though he was thankful for that), but with minimal options available to him Loki decided that he would need to put his smooth talking skills to work.

Loki took a deep breath in and became focused on the task that lay ahead. Well, here goes nothing.

The men stopped in front of Loki's cell with dark menacing expressions on their faces. One of them soon opened the door up, standing in the doorway to block the exit. Foolish mortal, as if that could ever work－especially if the god's powers weren't restricted, then he would really be in for a treat. "Well, well, well, look who's finally awake," the man sneered, stepping further into the cell; he rested his left hand on his belt, keeping close to his weapon. Two others followed behind him, their hands being kept close to their belts as well. Something was definitely up and Loki's senses perked up more than they usually were. Now more than ever it was important for him to do what he needed to do in order to remain aloof in regards to the situation.

"I had a long nap, no thanks to you . Now, if it's all the same to you, I would like to leave this dreadful place. That won't be a problem will it?"

Today that sass would not help him through this predicament he had found himself in. The men shook their heads in refusal and inched themselves closer to the god. This was not going to go well for him but regardless of that, Loki smirked mischievously. Oh, what fun this would be.

"Unfortunately, it will be a problem. We're not quite done with you yet trickster," an agent informed Loki, a threatening tone to his curt, gruff voice. Yes, such fun indeed. Loki was ready for a little chaotic action and now he was about to get it; ready or not. Shackled or not, he was going to put up a fight. There was no way he would allow these beings to touch him again and as the one in front of him went to grab his neck, the god held his restrained hands up to block the movement and then kicked his right foot outward to make contact with the man's stomach. He tumbled over from the strong impact but then before Loki could get to the other two, one of them had pulled out a shock device and tazed Loki with it. Excruciating pain formed in his side, his Jotun physiology keeping him conscious throughout the ordeal. While he did everything to fight the pain, a collar was wrapped around the god's neck. It was fastened tightly and once secured, the other man pulled on the chains that had been restricting his hand movements since his arrival, urging Loki forward with him with a rough, impatient yank.

Loki kept plotting his revenge for this less than ideal treatment he was receiving. This was no way to treat Asgardian royalty, let alone a god. The agent who had placed the collar around his neck, pulled a remote out from his pocket and brought it to Loki's attention. "One wrong move or another snarky remark and that collar will shock you. Unless I push the red button on this remote, then you'll die. Your head will blow right off of your shoulders," he warned him, a wicked grin on his face as he stared down Loki. It was almost as if he was daring the god to mess up again and to be honest, he was hoping for it.

Loki glared back and resisted as much as he could, his feet practically dragging along the cold, damp concrete flooring. His legs didn't want to go any further and he felt like a stubborn mule and to the Hydra agent, that's exactly what this god was to him. No more resistance. A shock soon jolted onto Loki's bare neck, causing the god to clench his teeth together as he fought his hardest not to make a single cry of agony nor a plea of mercy. They wanted to break him and he wasn't about to let them. He would rather die than give up and let his guard down. If bending him to their each and every whim was their plan then they would have to do so much better than that. After all, this god had been through and survived worse. Much, much worse. Far greater pains and tortures that they could never have thought of themselves. Pathetic beings, once he broke free of these restraints, they would be sorry. They would all be sorry.

As Loki was led down the dingy, dim corridors, many agents now surrounding him, he glanced around through the spaces between bodies and saw a bunch of large equipment in one room. He narrowed his blue-green eyes more as he noticed more agents in the room, gathered around something or perhaps, someone. The further down the corridor he went with his 'wardens', that's what he decided to dub them, the more Loki got a better view of what was going on in this particular room. There was a man with long dark brown hair that fell inches above his shoulders, who was also bare chested (revealing his metal arm and the scarring that went along with it on his shoulder) and his wrists were restrained to this chair. His expression seemed blank, as if he had no emotion whatsoever; presumably in an attempt to not feel anything. Maybe he didn't. How could anyone feel anything in a place like this? Especially with company like these horrible, awful men. It was deemed impossible in Loki's perspective.

Curiosity started to get the better of him and the god wondered what they were doing or about to do to this man. No, it didn't matter and it wasn't like he could help him anyway－even if he wanted to. He had his own problem to sort out and wished not to take on the burden of some complete strangers issues. Whatever was about to happen to him would just have to occur. No matter how bad it could be. No matter how broken this man seemed to be, as if he had been through Hel and back just as Loki had been several times over. He could sense that this handsome stranger had bottled up so much pain but he wasn't about to let his guard down for any of this. Not now, not ever.

"Wipe his mind and start over," the voice of a higher authority ordered, his gruff voice bouncing off the glass panes of the inner windows. Loki watched intently as the agents slid a mouth guard into the man's mouth (most definitely to muffle the sounds that were impending) and then hooked the machine up to him, lowering what seemed to be some sort of torture device onto his head. Norns only know what horrors would come of that, it was something that Loki didn't want to know of. Within seconds, the tortures had commenced and cries of agony were expelled deep within from the man's diaphragm, causing Loki to pause in his tracks out of pure trepidation as he watched the scene play out. No, how could they? Monsters. Then again, given what they had previously done to Loki himself, he shouldn't have been so surprised. He was being urged forward and shoved by the men both in front and behind him, but this god wasn't about to budge; no matter how much they shouted at him to move. Tremors filled his mind, then his body and soul as the horrid flashbacks of his own tortures came back.

Thanos. The Other and the Chitauri. It was all coming back to him now, whether he wanted it to or not. The awful pain he had felt, longing for death to capture him into the dark void－it certainly would have been better than what he had gone through. Burn after burn, weakening him greatly. That was the best way to torture a Jotun after all. His eyes had become dark and circles had formed around them. His thin lips were horribly chapped and his skin profuse and sweaty, and his teeth had rotted; making the once healthy prince appear like the poster child of malnutrition now. Should his mother see him like this, it would surely break the Queen's heart more than it already was. After all, she had thought him dead, unaware that after her son's suicide attempt he had been resurrected－only to be used a pawn in the Mad Titan's game of chess and everyone knows that the pawns don't survive for long; luck would have to be on their side if they did. "We will bend him to our will. Keep going until he breaks...." Thanos kept burning him again and again, then over and over. Loki had fought so hard to not let a single plea of mercy or cry of agony spill from his lips but as time went on, the young prince didn't know how much more he could take. His memories had been messed with and he was reminded so brutally that he would never be a king, that he was nothing. His dreams were meaningless and so childlike, hating himself even more than he already had. Maybe that was why he swallowed his pride and let his captor, his abusers place him under mind control. What more could he lose now? He had nothing.

The longer Loki heard the screams of this man, the more he froze in place and the more his own trauma played over and over in his head; much like a stuck record. He couldn't hit the record player to reset it, his hands were restricted and even if he could, would it even work? His eyes pinched themselves shut, pushing back tears. His legs shook, weakening like jelly and his hands soon followed suit, the chains rattling against themselves. Deep within his heart, Loki knew that he was so broken, so damaged. Who would ever want someone like him? At best, he figured that he was beyond repair and deserved to be kept in the cellar under lock and key, never to be seen again. Worthless. Monster. Unloved. So much hate and negativity flooded his mind at this moment and he bought his lies, the ones of his abuser. His father never saw him as 'worthy', he wasn't equal to his brother and now, he was a wanted man. He didn't want to attack New York, but he had to go on with it for the sake of his plan to forewarn of what was coming. The very plan he had concocted while he fought back against the mind control and it was unfortunate that the Avengers hadn't seen through. Not even his own brother, who had spent an entire lifetime around him. Loki would never tell Thor, but it hurt him deeply that he didn't and couldn't realize this. If only all of them had read into his actions and his carefully chosen words a little more, maybe then things would have been different. Perhaps he wouldn't be stuck here now.

Loki didn't want to admit it, but he was petrified. One way or another, he was going to get himself out of here and would find his way back home, if he was even welcome back to Asgard at this point and maybe, just maybe, he would free this man of his pain as well. Whatever his name was, he longed to learn this and hoped that in time he would. He was so tragically stunning and the god wanted to heal his tortured soul. Realizing what he was thinking, the god shook himself out of the brief trance of positivity he had put himself under.

No wait, what am I thinking? I don't care about this mortal. I don't care about any of them. A monster like me doesn't deserve love. Besides, he probably wouldn't want me anyway.

"Come on, keep moving!" A hand lurched Loki forward and the god growled lowly, giving the mystery man one last look, his expression so stoic once the torture had ended. A man spoke some seemingly random words to him in what Loki believed was Russian, and caught a glimpse of him getting out of control, wincing in pain as each word was spoken. It was clear to the god that this was definitely some sort of mind control they put him under and he knew then that the both of them had more in common than previously thought.

No, I will not feel anything for him. I will remain stone cold, it's better this way. For both of us.

Still, Loki couldn't help but keep thinking about him as he carried on down the corridors to a similar room that his newfound crush, whether he admitted it or not, had just been seen in. Great, more torture was coming his way or at least Loki figured that was about to happen if he didn't comply to their every command. He knew too that he would have to get the tesseract out of their possession, fearing what these guys would do with such power. Then again, he hoped that it would destroy them as they messed with the very thing they didn't even understand. After all, they weren't powerful enough to possess such intense energy and they would never be.

~~~~~~~~

The Hydra agents had shoved Loki down into a chair, where they pinned his wrists down on the armrests. There was no way he was going to escape this newly fresh Hel, not in this moment and definitely not on their watch. It was deemed close to impossible without a solid plan as they had a literal god in their possession now and though they knew what he was capable of should he break free, it didn't phase them. In fact, they held this sense of hope that they could bend Loki to their will and get this trickster to be on their side; to fight alongside them. No matter what it took for them to convince the god to do so. They imagined how powerful Hydra could be with a potential ally like Loki and how greatly this would help their cause for global domination. First of all, they would need to get some information from him by any means necessary－ about him and about the tesseract, which they had plans to turn into a bomb. A new face had entered the room, a tall dark and brooding man with a muscular build. He was dressed in the same attire as these other agents and there was a dangerous expression in those deep brown eyes of his. As he neared the group, one of his allies had referred to this man as 'Rumlow.' and seconds later, an agent soon informed this Rumlow guy that Loki was ready for his interrogation. Well, as ready as one could be when it was forced upon them.

Seriously, couldn't a god just go home and indulge in his favourite Shakespeare play? Apparently not, as he was stuck here with men who were about to attempt to pry information out of him.

Of course, that didn't mean that he had to tell them anything and that was exactly his plan－ he wouldn't give them any information. Torture him if they shall. He could handle it, that's the lie he was currently telling himself. Surely mortal men couldn't do that much damage, could they? He was about to find out. Rumlow got close to Loki, almost getting right in his face; might as well have been, he was just mere inches away.

Personal space? Ever hear of that Rumlow? No, I didn't think so. By the Norns, this was turning out to be quite a tedious day.

He had sat down on a grey metal chair in front of the god, the back of the chair facing Loki and had rested his arms on the top of it. "Alright Asgardian, tell me everything that you know. Now," there was an urgency in his deep, gruff voice. Pushy much? Loki thought so but he soon realized that he could have some fun with this and so, in his typical snarky fashion he did. Everything you say? Loki had thought, a small smirk forming on his face. Alright, that is what you'll get. It's just too bad he hadn't specified. "Well for starters, you really lack a sense of fashion. I mean, don't get me wrong. Black is always in style but not in those clothes and that hair cut? It's so ten years ago and don't get me started on your living conditions. Do you not have any dignity or self respect left in yourselves. Such a shame."

That was the first strike and without a single warning, a shock wave was sent coursing through Loki's body; moving from his neck and spreading rapidly from there. Loki's icy genetic makeup kept him from passing out, forcing him to feel the pain in full consciousness. It was almost completely immobilizing and it would have been, if it wasn't for the device being on a low setting; that didn't mean it tickled though, he certainly wasn't laughing here. He had a good feeling that the more frequently it were to be done, the higher that intensity would rise. That potential threat wasn't going to stop him from being his stubborn self though. Loki possessed the sort of strength that most only long to know and with the experience of the curve balls that life threw at him, he rightfully earned it. Emotionally and mentally strong, the kind that didn't matter on Asgard or even Midgard it seemed. Quite unfortunate.

'You can handle this Loki, it's nothing you haven't been through before', the god kept telling himself, clenching his jaw together in an attempt to endure the pain. The truth was, he wished that he could pass out and cursed his Jotun physiology for not allowing that and maybe it was for the better in this case. Who knows what these men would do to him if he were unconscious? Loki shook those dark, gloomy thoughts away, not wanting to know. "Not that. You know damn well what information we're seeking. What do you know of the tesseract? How do we harness its energy," Rumlow growled, evidently furious with this god's sass. This apparently wasn't the kind of game he wanted to play. What a poor sport. Ah that. Too bad Loki wasn't planning on giving it to them, not even a teeny tiny little crumb. He wouldn't dare break down, for as long as he possibly could anyway. There was one thing he would tell them though－how foolish they were. Not that they would listen but Loki just wanted to put it out there; just for the sake of it.

"You're not strong enough to hold such power. You see, these stones are not meant for mortal beings and it will destroy you if you touch them. The radiation they contain is far too much for your weaker forms," Loki informed them, a smug expression on his godly features.

That was clearly the wrong thing to say as yet another shock jolted through his body, much stronger this time; as he had anticipated. He fought tirelessly to not show any sign of breaking, bending to their will. He was stronger than that and much wiser than to subdue to their stupid little game. It didn't matter how high they turned up the intensity of these shock waves, he would never give in.

"You know, I'm tired of hearing his smart remarks. Keep shocking him for a while and maybe then, he'll be ready to cooperate," Rumlow ordered, the agent nodding to accept his command. His peer looked at him, arching a brow out of curiosity. "What if he doesn't cooperate after all of that?" Rumlow smirked darkly as he glanced back at the man. "Then we'll kill him."

There was a nod of understanding from the man and then all attention was soon put back onto Loki, the torturing commencing promptly from that moment forward. Little by little, the pain became greater gradually by a minute or two each time the agent amped things up. Loki kept a brave facade painted on his face, staring the man down with a vengeance. No breaking, don't you dare. Not for these men, not for anyone. After several minutes, the device had been maxed out and Loki was just barely cracking under the agony, a small groan escaping from his throat; he tried to suppress it but it insisted on coming out. Damn it.

He gritted his teeth and his fingers grabbed onto the edge of the armrest, his knuckles turning white. Tears threatened to fall from the surface of his eyes, he begrudgingly pushed them back with a few blinks. His limbs began to shake or maybe they weren't. At this point, he really couldn't tell anymore nor did he want to; weakness would not be shown, not today. He needed to distract himself as he knew that they were going to draw this out－there was just this uneasy feeling that told him so. His mind had chosen to think of that mystery man he'd seen earlier and something told the god that the torture was like this for him, perhaps even worse. Whoever had it worse out of the two of them mattered not, it was just plain sickening for either one of them to have gone through it. Loki knew what it was like having your mind erased, where all of the most pleasant memories (even the dreadful ones) that one kept tucked away for safekeeping being distorted or turned to something that seemed to be all too good to be true. He knew of the heart wrenching pain that was felt, just knowing that he'd never see his loved ones again, the ear piercing, glass shattering screams and how terrible it felt to be tortured, conditioned into the very thing that all feared－a monster, a villain.

I just want to go home, but nobody's home...end this pain...

It was clear to Loki that this man also had no home to go back to but that was nothing. Nothing but a thing of the past and evidently Loki empathized with that, never really feeling as if he belonged anywhere. Not Asgard, not Jotunheim and definitely not here on Midgard. A lone wolf exiled from the rest of the pack. How he wished things could be different but knew that they would never be. How could they? He would forever be an outcast, the forgotten son. That sense of belonging was so far out of reach to him, it wasn't funny. Enough was enough. Loki had decided that he was going to break free from this Hel and the only way to do that was to make them think that he was finally ready to give them what they sought. He would have to act the part and he was all for it of course as it meant that he got to be his mischievous self.

Cue the dramatics. Lights, camera, action!

Loki slowly let his emotionless mask down, showing expressions of pain and anguish on his face. A single tear rolled down his cheek, the god allowing it; just this once. It was part of his grand scheme after all. "Alright stop! I'll tell you..just...just please stop," he screamed out, seemingly trying to keep his breathing even. Rumlow made a motion at his compadre, which had given the man the go ahead to cease the torture. Loki panted heavily, fatigued from the multiple shocks and tilted his head down towards the floor in the hopes of appearing as if he were played out from the past event; not daring to make eye contact with anyone. He soon heard footsteps and the chair shuffling around him, being moved out of the way as Rumlow and his fellow agent neared the god, they were about to do something to him but Loki wasn't sure what just yet. It didn't matter, he had a plan. He always did. "You have three seconds to talk or we won't hesitate to shock you again." Such an empty threat.

The man who held the remote now stood in front of him and before he could even push the button once again, Loki lurched his legs forward (a grand mistake on their part not tying them down) and knocked the man down on his back onto the cold, hard concrete floor. The god smoothly caught the remote between his ankles, and tossed the device up into the air, all while hoping that no one else would catch it before he could. Luckily, even bound to a chair he was much faster than them; thank you superhuman speed. His right hand now held onto the small black device and he flicked the switch on it that soon freed him of that damned collar. He felt his power coursing through his body, coming in strong and as his healing factor replenished his godly strength. At that moment, Loki broke himself free of his restraints; his seidr blasting the cool metal off of his wrists in green shimmers of mystical swirls.

The God of Mischief was back, baby. Damn it felt good, so bloody good.

Loki cracked his knuckles while wearing a playful smirk on his face and he soon strutted his way over to Rumlow, more than eager to go a round with the man. More green coloured mystical swirls glowed around Loki's fingertips and he kept his eyes locked on Rumlow; who had his gun out and ready to fire. He rapidly shot a few bullets at him but Loki just kept approaching him; not giving a single care in the world. Pathetic, absolutely pathetic. It was so laughable in fact. The bullets might as well have been made of rubber, as they bounced off of the god, his skin immune to such attacks. "Oh dear, did that not work. Too bad," Loki retorted, using his seidr to throw Rumlow back against the wall. Others came for Loki, but one by one they failed miserably, this god far too much for them to handle. Daggers were flying about the room, maiming the men enough so that they couldn't move. Some of them were rendered unconscious from the intense blast of Loki's magic, while others were as good as dead; having been too close to the power. Rumlow now struggled to get back up, groaning lowly in pain. Loki wasn't finished with him just yet. He tossed the man into the very chair that Loki had been restrained to, chains magically restricting his movements.

"My my, haven't we been misbehaving far too much Rumlow. That's saying a lot coming from me too. In fact, I think you should sit here and think about what you've done. Oh, and I'll be taking this back now," Loki taunted, a smug smirk on his face as he glanced from Rumlow to the table where the briefcase that housed the tesseract was. The god walked over to the briefcase, opening it up and grabbed the tesseract out of it. Finally, he had retrieved it and maybe now he could get out of this horrid place. Oh right, he had one last thing before doing that. It was time to burn this place to the ground or at least destroy it in some way, shape or form. There would be one thing, or should he say a person, that would stand in his path to freedom though－that mystery man he kept denying he had feelings for of course.

He was a little bit dangerous right now, his mind trapped under the effects of the brainwashing. Loki cat walked his way out of the room, his magic transforming his torn up outfit back to its former glory and he kept that smirk on his face, making his journey down the corridors that led to the main control room where he knew he could really make a statement; a big bold statement as a matter of fact. He knew that there was equipment in there that would cause the place to self-destruct as long as the right, or wrong in this case, information was entered. Of course, Loki had managed to grab that information as he retrieved the tesseract, sneakily reading a sticky note that was poorly placed under some panel. That would be their mistake, one that would cost them their lives at the worst case scenario.

Just as Loki was about to turn the corner, he felt an intense stare on his back and he slowly spun around, that smirk deepening. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw that familiar man looking at him with murderous intent－this wasn't the same man whose eyes had been flooded with pain, regret and that expression that told Loki he felt so lost. Loki raised his hands up defensively, careful not to make any sudden moves. It's not that he was afraid of this man, he just knew better than to trigger him. The last thing he wanted was to hurt him but if he needed to, then he was more than ready to defend himself. It seemed as if this man remembered seeing Loki around as well, there was a puzzled expression that had formed on his face. He glanced away, then back to the god; certainly feeling so befuddled right now. There was something about him that made him feel as if he wasn't alone, but he couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was. That moment of reminiscing was short lived, as one of the free agents who hadn't been in the room with Loki had come along and re-calibrated this man with a little jolt, giving some orders in Russian for him to kill the god. No matter the cost, even if it meant his own life in the end.

Alright, it was time for a fight and as Loki saw the man draw a knife from his side, he too summoned his daggers into his hands. This would be such fun, Loki loved to do this dance. Both of them did a running start at each other, their blades clinking and clanking against the others. This man managed to give the god a little shove and then kicked his legs out from under him, pinning him down to the floor. From there, he started to punch him, leaving cuts and bruises scattered onto Loki's alabaster complexion. As that metal fist rose up above his face again, Loki used his magic to freeze it in place, just inches above his face and threw the man off of him. "Snap out of it. I don't know who you are but I can tell that this isn't who you are," Loki stressed, hoping that he could get through to this man. It seemed at that moment, he might as well have been talking to the wall. He was soon charged at again, but was prepared for it and searched for some sort of object he could use to knock him out. There was nothing of use and so Loki opted to use his own fist, hitting the man with all of his strength; wondering why he hadn't done this sooner. An act of faith perhaps that this brainwashed assassin would come back to reality. As good a reason as any, one could suppose.

He was now rendered unconscious and Loki hoped that upon his awakening, he would no longer be under the control of Hydra. Loki picked him up and slung him over his shoulders, teleporting the two of them to the control room and then entered the information his keen mind had absorbed, that soon began the self destruct sequence. Now, Loki was highly intelligent and so he knew better than to just up and leave it like that. Someone would surely try to stop this and that's the exact reason why he locked the whole system down with a spell that only he could break.

'Self destruct sequence in one minute. Fifty nine seconds. Fifty eight. Fifty seven.

Time was ticking and Loki went over to the back exit, awaiting the arrival of any agent who dared try to stop this; his newfound crush still passed out over his shoulder. He was confident that he could get out of there in plenty of time. Teleportation was a thing for him after all. Loki glanced down to the countdown clock, it's large red numbers diminishing more and more.

Forty five seconds remaining. Tsk, tsk. Not a single soul was there yet, it was such a shame; the god had hoped to see the grim look on their faces as they learned that they couldn't stop this. Looks like they were all going to be disappointed today. Tragic.

Time got away, getting less and less and with only thirty seconds left, Loki was certain that no one was going to show. Until he was pleasantly surprised as several agents entered the room. "What took you so long?" A cheeky grin on his face, stretching from ear to ear. Needless to say, not a single soul in Hydra was impressed. The men all glared at the god, some of them soon rushing over to the main controls to stop this. It ended in hysterics for Loki as they got shot back from the force of magic that was placed over the controls and he flashed them a cocky grin, as they moved quickly to surround him. Obviously they hadn't learned from the last time. "Oh I'm terribly sorry fellas, I'd love to have another bout with you but I'm afraid that your time is up," he informed them, motioning to the clock that now said 'five seconds' on the screen; the voice over soon repeating that.

Without further adieu, Loki teleported himself and this broken man out of the base. Just in the nick of time too, as the whole place exploded inward and then went outward with a ground shuddering blast; nothing but rubble left behind, a few miraculous survivors as well. "You're safe now. We're both safe now."

That was a promise in which Loki intended to keep, for as long as he possibly could. No matter what happened to him, he would see that this man wouldn't suffer because of his past.

~~~~~~~~~

Several miles away from the base and Loki had carefully rested this handsome stranger onto the ground, looking down at him in awe. He went to caress his strong jawline but quickly hesitated, deciding that if there were to be a moment like that, then it should occur naturally and while the man was awake. Loki didn't know when this man would wake up though and so he used a spell on him, touching his fingers to the man's temple as he did so, hoping that it was enough to do the trick. A low groan was heard seconds later and the man's face scrunched up in the slightest way. His eyes fluttered open and for the first time as Loki was face to face with him, he was able to gaze deeply into that sea of blue. He looked back into Loki's eyes, the two of them having this unspoken understanding of the fact that they had something in common; only Loki knowing what that was. "Who are you," the man asked, his voice soft as it flowed out of his mouth like the smoothest of chocolates. Fair question.

"I am Loki." That's all the god replied, unsure if he was deserving enough to note that he was of Asgard. It didn't feel right to him at this time and maybe it never would; perhaps in the future it would be fathomable. Hopefully. Loki. It seemed like an odd name to someone who grew up in the forties, but it had a nice ring to it nonetheless.The man nodded and before he could say anything more, Loki soon asked him the same question, wishing to learn the name of the one who had him feeling so...infatuated. How that was even possible, Loki didn't quite understand. "James Buchanan Barnes, but I prefer Bucky." Finally, a name to put to this stunning face. "How did we get out here? You're not with Hydra, are you?" Another reasonable question and now it was time for the god to do some explaining, which he hoped wouldn't seem too far fetched to Bucky. "Well you see Bucky, I uh, I had a crash landing here, those details aren't too important though and after that I lost something important to me but while I was searching for it, Hydra, as you call them, captured me and it wasn't long until I saw you in their base. They were doing unspeakable things to you and," Loki paused, pondering over whether or not he dared to finish that sentence. He didn't wish to trigger nor upset Bucky. It seemed as if Bucky had gotten the picture though, a small smile that was followed by a saddened expression in his eyes soon formed on his features.

"Ah yes. The brainwashing. It's been my whole life ever since the forties and I don't like talking about it. It's just a living nightmare to me." Bucky glanced away, feeling ashamed of what his life had become and Loki felt his heartbreaking from the sight. No, there was no way that he was going to let him suffer alone－it didn't have to be that way. "I caused the base to self destruct and got you to safety, once I freed myself from those...agents. You're welcome for that." Silence. A brief one. Bucky nodded in response. "Thank you Loki."

His voice was so lovely to hear, even in the worst of circumstances. So alluring. What am I doing? Love is such a childish notion but here I am falling further and further for him. I am but a fool...a fool for him. Bucky, my Bucky. Might as well take the plunge. He was already this far gone after all and if something was going to destroy him, then it might as well be Bucky and his newfound and ever growing feelings for him.

Loki held his hand, his metal one, and looked dotingly into his ocean blue eyes. Bucky had flinched slightly, wanting to pull his hand away from Loki. "I hate this part of me." Fortunately for Bucky, Loki could understand why; their left arms both reminders of how different they were compared to the rest of their worlds. Loki gave it some thought for a moment and though he hated his Jotun heritage, despised it actually, he had soon decided that perhaps it would help his cause if he shared a small detail about himself as well. Hopefully he wouldn't come to regret it. "It's okay Bucky, I know what you mean. I hate a part of myself as well but I can't show you. I don't want to hurt you, but please be grateful for that. I was born an ice cold monster, at least that's what I've been taught about the inhabitants of my home realm. Jotunheim." That was enough of showing the slightest vulnerability, Loki figured. He loathed feeling that way.

Bucky looked back at him and there was a tiny smile on his face that went in hand with a subtle nod. It seemed as if he had understood and thankfully for Loki, Bucky never pressed him to show him what exactly he was talking about. There had been obvious distress in the god's eyes as he shared that information, a familiar emotional distress in which Bucky had experienced each time he went through the mind wiping, the experiments. All of it. The horrors were still so fresh in his mind and they would forever be; it seemed as if there was no escape, perhaps not until Loki had almost miraculously appeared in his life and rescued him. They both kept an ardent gaze on each other, Loki's emotions only intensifying the longer he looked at Bucky. He was drowning in these feelings and to be honest, he seemed to be perfectly alright with that. Never before had there been this much passion burning through the god's body and he longed to know how those lips felt against his own, slowly leaning forward while caressing Bucky's left cheek. Did he feel the same way as the Aesir prince felt for him? There was only one way to find out. Loki brushed his lips up against Bucky's, getting a little teasing in to feel out the moment; a little flirting method of his. "Forgive me," he whispered against those luscious lips of Bucky's.

He pressed a tender kiss to his lips, gradually becoming much more voracious as he pulled the man closer to him. Bucky felt a spark jolt through his body as the god's lips made contact with his, gently caressing them in a passionate, sincerely loving bout of affection. He wrapped his arms around him, tangling his right hand into those long, loosely curled raven tresses. Never before had he felt so alive than he was in this moment and he hoped that feeling would never go away. Maybe it didn't have to. Low moans escaped from them, breaths swapping between the two of them in faint pants. After lingering in the kiss for a few moments more, Loki gradually pulled away and looked back at Bucky with a dazed expression in his shimmering blue-green eyes. Beautiful. Ethereal, so ineffable. That seemed like the only way to describe that kiss and yet, it still didn't seem fitting.

"That was..nice," Bucky softly spoke, still in awe of what had just happened. It had been far too long since his last kiss and he was thankful that if some random person was to give him one, it had been this tall, dark haired god; who just happened to be insanely attractive too. Loki smiled a little and licked his lips for a brief second, nodding in agreement.

"Yeah. It was."

Things remained unclear for Loki though, despite the kiss that the two of them had just shared. He wasn't certain if this was simply just a kiss or if this now meant that the two of them were something more than whatever this was. Had Bucky just been as starved as Loki himself was for some form of affection or did he kiss him back because he genuinely liked him back? Answers were needed and the sooner he got them, the better it would be. They could go on with their lives after this if need be.

Could Loki live on without Bucky by his side though? He told himself that he could, but knew deep down that he wouldn't want to. He didn't want to feel alone anymore, that had grown quite old to him. Don't make it so obvious. Probably a little late for that though, considering you just kissed him Loki!

He knew what needed to be said now. There was this comfortable silence floating around in the air as the two of them continued to gaze into each other's eyes. Now seemed as good a time as any to say something, anything. "Bucky, I don't know where I'm going from here but I do know that I would like to be in your company wherever I end up. Won't you join me," he questioned, a small glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

Naturally, he was preparing for heartbreak. Rejection. Thank you for that dear father, both of them and every traumatic event in between.

Bucky stayed silent for a moment but not because he was thinking of a way to gently break it to Loki that he didn't want that. In fact, it was the complete opposite. He couldn't, for the life of him, think of some clever and flirtatious thing to respond with. Maybe he didn't need to be so articulate though. A simple word might just suffice here. His hands held onto Loki's as he deeply gazed into his eyes, a warm smile on his face. His expression was full of hope and he had a good feeling in both his gut and his heart that this felt like the right thing to do.

"Yes." It was just one word but it spoke volumes. There was happiness and love locked within those three letters, along with a sense of trust. To Bucky, it seemed like a risk to take but what was there to lose when you've already lost everything and everyone from your past life? When you lost who you once were? He was more than ready to take the plunge. At first, Loki was rather surprised by this answer but then as he realized it wasn't a lie, a soft smile grew onto his face. Finally, someone had accepted him and was there to understand what it felt like to feel like you don't belong anywhere or as if you're some kind of freak show. No longer would either of them feel so alone and perhaps in time, they would admit that this was the beginning of a wonderful love story. That there was an unspoken thing going on between them from the very moment they'd locked eyes. They would end up being more than glad that they had found each other and though there would be the odd fight, it would never get in the way of the special bond the two of them would come to form over time. It was apparent that this would rapidly grow into the kind of love that many sought out but was so rare to find. True love, soulmates if you will.

[blueiscoool]

Well-Preserved 1,500-Year-Old Visigoth Sarcophagus Found at Roman Villa in Spain

Researchers excavating Roman ruins at Los Villaricos in southern Spain have discovered a well-preserved coffin adorned with geometric patterns and interlocking ivy leaves. As local news outlet Murcia Today reports, the sarcophagus likely dates to the sixth century C.E., when the Visigoths, among other Germanic tribes, invaded territories formerly held by the fallen Roman Empire.

Archaeologists from the University of Murcia found the 6.5-foot-long coffin during a summer dig at Los Villaricos, a large-scale agricultural settlement established by the Romans around the first century C.E. Per Heritage Daily, the sarcophagus was buried at a Roman villa repurposed by the Visigoths following its abandonment around the fifth century C.E. The Germanic conquerors used the structure’s central patio area as a necropolis.

“This year’s campaign was focused on finishing excavating the last three burials in the necropolis and continuing with the excavation work of the complex located north of the town,” lead archaeologist Rafael González Fernández tells Carmen Garcia Cortes of Historia National Geographic, per Google Translate.

Initially, the researchers thought they’d uncovered a pilaster, or rectangular column, notes a statement.

Speaking with Charlie Devereux of the London Times, González says, “We weren’t expecting this spectacular discovery.”

According to Murcia Today, the team spotted a Chi Rho symbol carved on the top of the coffin. As Philip Kosloki explains for Aleteia, the monogram—also known as a Christogram—superimposes the first two letters of the Greek word for Christ: chi (X) and rho (P). It represents Jesus, or more specifically, his resurrection.

The Roman emperor Constantine reportedly adopted the Chi-Rho symbol as a military standard after experiencing a vision while praying. Eventually, it became part of an official imperial emblem. The monogram also appears in many early Christian artworks.

Los Villaricos, for its part, was built along a trade route between Carthage and Complutum, a village northeast of Madrid, reports the Times. At its height, the ancient settlement relied heavily on agriculture, producing and storing olive oil, among other goods.

The town went through a series of renovations during the Romans’ occupation of the region. After the Romans abandoned the area, the Visigoths moved in, seizing control and repurposing many Roman structures, including the villa in Los Villaricos, per Murcia Today.

Sometime between the fifth and seventh centuries C.E., Visigoths transformed the villa’s oecus—a large space where the house’s owner once welcomed their esteemed guests—into a Christian basilica, reports National Geographic. They also repurposed the neighboring patio area as a necropolis ad sanctos, or holy necropolis.

Per the statement, archaeologists conducted the excavation in three stages. The first took place in an area that supplied water to the village. The second focused on the so-called pool area, where ancient people produced and stored an unknown product, and the third centered on the town’s tombs.

Previous finds made at Los Villaricos include mosaics, an olive mill and a cistern, notes Murcia Today in a separate article.

“This sarcophagus … shows the archaeological power of [Los Villaricos] and confirms our commitment to the University of Murcia,” local city councilor Diego J. Boluda tells National Geographic, per Google Translate. “Undoubtedly, the piece will occupy a preferential place in the Museum of the City of Mula.”

By Isis Davis-Marks

[thethistlegirlwrites]

Whumptober day 23 (exhaustion)

Today’s prompt seemed like a good time for some very tired junior hunter John!

John thought he was ready for the night patrols. He's spent his share of late nights in high school, up until midnight or later for theater rehearsals and shows. He's taken nine months of classes at the Amarillo Academy, getting up as sun dips below the horizon and going to bed just as the desert begins to turn gold. But nothing prepared him for his first night on patrol.

It's not that it was an eventful night. Amarillo has a low vamp incident rate compared to most large cities. For one thing, it's too sunny to be a really popular destination. For another, it's got one of the oldest established agencies in the world. It has three reasonably large covens and a lot of loners, all of whom are usually just looking to lie low in a sunny city where they won't be threatened. Still, there's no telling when violence will break out. Especially with the trade in illegal substances over the border. Since the fae became common knowledge, the Damiana trade has sprung up almost overnight. Not that no one was moving it before, but now it's a flood. And covens saw the chance to make some money, just like the human cartels. So the entire patrol is spent on the razor edge of awareness. John strains his ears for the faintest hints of movement or conversation, and his eyes to see through the glare of the street lights into alleys and doorways. He's jumpy, tensing at every sound, hand twitching and ready to fly for his stakes or his Bowie knife or the new ten-foot silver laced whip that he perfected his skill with in the Academy. By the time their pagers ping out the UV alerts telling them vampires are no longer able to roam the streets with their powers intact, John feels like he's run a marathon. His muscles are quivering, he's jumping at shadows, and he feels like he could sleep for a week. But there's still reports to fill out when they get back. The second he sits down in his partner's car, he wants to doze off. He keeps blinking as they speed up and slow down, the city slowly coming alive with car horns and pedestrians. He keeps leaning forward against the seat belt and then sitting back up straight with a jerk. "Tired?" his training mentor, Jupe Garcia, asks with a knowing grin. "It'll take it out of you till you adjust." He turns on the air conditioning, letting it blast out of the vents with the fan running at full speed. "That's why we don't let y'all cadets drive your own cars for the first few weeks." John thinks of his Mustang, sitting in the shed at home, and nods. He'd definitely have crashed it, the way he's feeling right now. By the time they get back to the agency, he's steadily blinking, and the minute he's out of the car he makes a beeline for the break room and the row of coffeemakers on the counter that have been humming away since before sundown. Even with five of them running there's a line, mostly other cadets in the same situation, whose patrol blocks were closer to the agency. There's no favoritism showed even to the bluebloods, John's assignment was totally random, just like anyone else's. He stands in line, leaning on a wall, until one of the coffeemakers opens up. He pours himself a mug of the thick sludge from the bottom of the pot, and after reading the tattered sign over top, "If you use the last cup, make another pot" pulls out the can of grounds to start a new batch. When he's started the coffee he heads out to check his gear. Garcia's already inside, having parked and checked over the car. That's one of the few jobs that cadets don't get handed from their superiors. Car checks are done by the owner, since they know the vehicle inside and out. Special weapons are also checked and logged by the person who uses them. But the general armory gear, John is expected to handle for both himself and his training officer. Garcia walks him through the inspection and log process, for which John is grateful. He knows that there are some training officers who prefer making the cadets learn through experience. They usually don't last long in the job as a result, but there is the chance of getting one. Garcia seems more than happy to make sure John understands the process by demonstrating it. After they've checked their gear, Garcia sends him to the office to grab report sheets, and when he meets John at his tiny cubicle desk in the main floor offices, he's holding two mugs of coffee. John doesn't tell him he already got one, it seems rude to refuse and besides, he's still drowsy. Reports, he knows how to fill out. Dad made sure of that since John was old enough to make full sentences. He crams a detailed account of the night's activities, in scrawling half-cursive script, into the narrow lines on the front of the paper. They had no major incidents to report, but he details their surveillance of a potential dead drop site on the reverse side of the sheet. "How was the first night, son?" He jumps slightly at the sound of Dad's voice. He's leaning on the edge of the cubicle, his red hair spiky from running his fingers through it, a pen tucked behind his ear over his glasses. "Pretty boring. Which is a good thing." Dad glances at his report, then runs a hand through his hair again. "You're squishing all your letters again." For a second, John feels like he's five again, sitting at the kitchen table. He knows his scrawl is messy. Especially tonight, when he's so tired the words blur. Dad chuckles. "I'm just teasing. Besides, Walker needs something to keep him on his toes." He starts filling out the mileage and fuel reimbursements log (not that he needs to, Garcia will be the one actually submitting one, but it's good practice) when Momma shows up. Her hair is falling out of its long braid, the few traces of silver visible in what strands are falling into her face. There's a bruise on her cheekbone and a cut on the back of her left hand. Her night must have been more exciting. "Good first night?" She asks, setting down a mug of coffee on his desk with a thump that barely avoids sloshing any over the edges. "Thought you might need something to keep you awake through the reports." "Thanks." John's already feeling jittery, so he doesn't plan on drinking much of that, but he appreciates the gesture. "Dad wanted to take you out for breakfast to celebrate your first night on the job, but I told him you'd just want to crash for the day." John nods. "I do. Thanks." Momma's well aware of how rough the first field days can be, and he appreciates her experience. She waves her own reports, which include an intake form for seized contraband. "Alright, I'm off to go add enough detail to these to satisfy the evidence log files." She pushes herself off the desk with a level of bounce and energy that John hopes he'll someday be able to have after a night on the job. He's not sure how he ends up downing the whole mug Momma left, but by the time he's done with his paperwork, the mug is empty and his handwriting has gone from chicken scratch to code. He's glad the report he was practicing on isn't one that he has to hand in. He grabs his jacket off the back of the chair and walks out to the garage, finding Momma's rust-brown Cadillac and opening it with his key, then climbing in the back. He settles into the passenger side window seat, where he's sat ever since he can remember. Carmen's spot is on the other side, there's a spot of bright red nail polish on the door handle where she was doing them last minute before a school presentation so she'd remember not to bite them. And Gabe always sits in the middle. He's not sure he'll be able to sleep. He feels like he can see sounds and his hands are visibly shaking. All that caffeine was a bad idea. He sighs, leans his head on the window, and closes his eyes. Because if he can't sleep, tomorrow night is really going to suck. He spends the next five hours between the bathroom and his bed, and the next night on patrol reminding himself that as exhausted as he is, more than one cup of coffee is going to be something he regrets. He's learned his lesson. 

Taglist: @nade2308 @cmvorra @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @catwingsathena @asloudasalone @anguishmacgyver @flowing-river24 @myhusbandsasemni @floh673 @teddythecat1234 @bkworm4life4

[crackimagines]

Take Over (FE: Three Houses Short Fic)

Persona 5 AU (Crimson Flower)

P5 AU Masterlist Here

—

With the Adrestian Empire declaring war on the church and moving to invade Garreg Mach, the Phantom Thieves move to steal the heart of Archbishop Rhea.

The clock is ticking for the Phantom Thieves, because if the invasion fails, then all their classmates are doomed to perish from the might of the Church.

—

Akira made sure that the Black Eagles and the Imperial forces were moving far ahead of them, as his team slowed down.

(Morgana) “I don’t think they’ll realize we’re gone in time.”

(Ryuji) “Alright, then let’s hurry this shit up! If we can take down Rhea and her lackies, then we can stop this war before it even begins!”

(Makoto) “As much as I would like for that to happen, we need to be extra careful. Something’s been acting up with the MetaNAV as of late!”

When Akira pulled out his phone, their Phantom Thief outfits began flashing onto them before fading away.

(Futaba) “This has happened everytime we’re preparing to enter it, what’s going on?”

(Yusuke) “I’m afraid we do not have the luxury of time to be asking that. We must hurry before the Imperials reach Garreg Mach!”

(Ann) “Yeah, and Rhea’s palace is on full alert. We gotta get going.”

(Haru) “Akira, if you would!”

Akira nodded and pressed the button.

(Phone) Transformation successful. Now merging Metaverse and the Real World.

(Everyone) ?!

The world around them began to distort as normal, but when it was finished, they noticed the world had not even changed in the slightest.

Even Garreg Mach in the distance had no visible effect. Edelgard and the others kept marching.

(Ryuji) “The shit is this?!”

(Makoto) “How is this even possible, we shouldn’t be able to access our Personas in the real world!”

(Haru) “This is bad! Everyone might be walking into a palace! They aren’t equipped to deal with shadows!”

(Futaba) “No, I’m not detecting anything different except...Holy crap, there’s one super strong reading in Garreg Mach!”

(Ann) “Rhea!”

(Yusuke) “They’re going to get massacred!”

(Morgana) “Joker, what’s our orders?!”

(Akira) “We need to get there before they do as fast as possible! Our identities might get compromised, but that doesn’t matter right now! Futaba, take Yusuke and Haru on your Persona and head over right now! Makoto, you break through that front gate and make a way for us! Morgana, Ryuji, Ann! With me! Our mission objective remains the same, STOP RHEA!”

[Life Will Change - Persona 5]

Wasting no time, Makoto rode Johanna straight down the road, pulling out her revolver.

Futaba’s Persona beamed the three of them up and flew around the sides.

Morgana transformed into his bus as Akira got on the wheel and stepped on the gas pedal.

...

(Edelgard) “THIS IS EMPEROR EDELGARD! BEGIN YOUR ASSAULT!”

All the soldiers charged the gates, ready to break it down until everyone heard a strange noise coming up behind them.

BANG BANG!

(???) “OUT OF THE WAY!”

Several squads’ advances were halted when a woman on a strange vehicle flew past them and crashed through the gate doors, making several of the church soldiers fly off from the impact.

(Soldier) “Who was that?!”

(Soldier 2) “Was that one of ours?!”

(Hubert) “Doesn’t matter. If they’re helping us then we cannot refuse their help! EVERYONE, CHARGE!”

The Black Eagles charged in with the rest of the soldiers, not noticing the flying saucer soaring above them.

Driving up the middle, Makoto used the front wheels to stop her, turning the back wheels up and hit away a squad of Church soldiers, sending them onto the concrete.

Getting off, Makoto quickly got her mask back on as Johanna disappeared, clenching her fists.

Another squad of soldiers rushed her, swiping their swords at her.

Swiftly dodging the first strike, she counterattacked with a fist going into his stomach, and a kick to the face hurling him back onto two other soldiers.

Grabbing her revolver, she quickly spun around and shot a soldier’s spear, making it fly out of his hand.

Elbowing his head, she ran to the sides of the nearby buildings and found a nearby ballista.

(Soldier) “Take out that thing that’s flying in the sky!”

(Makoto) “Oracle! Tch, NO YOU WON’T!”

...

Futaba beamed down Haru near the ballista Makoto was fighting at, and flew towards the other one.

(Futaba) “Fox and I will get the other ballista! Help Queen!”

Needing no further instruction, Haru held her axe firmly and hit a soldier in the back with the hilt.

(Soldier) “Huh?! BEHIND US-!”

Seizing the opportunity, Makoto used her legs and swept underneath several soldiers, tipping them all over.

(Haru) “MILADY!”

Summoning her Persona, it used a psychokinesis attack and distorted the soldiers, making them unable to get up.

(Makoto) “Thanks for that, Noir!”

(Haru) “No problem, now get back!”

Haru had a devilish smile as she pulled out her grenade launcher and pointed it at the ballista.

(Haru) “It’s going to go boom!”

Makoto smiled and saw other soldiers coming towards them.

After firing a single shot, it completely blew apart, scaring the others.

(Soldier) “W-What kinda weapon is that?!”

(Haru) “WHY DON’T YOU FIND OUT!?”

...

(Futaba) “BEHIND YOU, AIM DOWNWARDS!”

A soldier came for his back, and Yusuke aimed his rifle downwards and shot the sword, the reflection making the soldier recoil in surprise.

His Persona appeared behind him and froze the soldier solid.

(Yusuke) “And now!-”

Turning right around, he used his katana to break the wires and gears, and his Persona slammed its sword downwards, crushing it completely.

(Futaba) “Good job, Fox!”

(Yusuke) “Thank you. Come, we must infiltrate the main room without being seen!”

As they rushed off, the Death Knight and several other Imperial forces took notice of them.

(Death Knight) “The Phantom Thieves are here...? You, send a report to the Emperor!”

...

Once Edelgard and her company took out the squad in the middle, an Imperial soldier ran to her.

(Soldier) “Milady, the ballistae have already been completely wiped out, and enemy forces are dealing with a third group inside! Reports indicate its the Phantom Thieves!”

(Edelgard) “What?!”

Byleth came in from behind and shook his head.

(Byleth) “I couldn’t find Akira and the others, they just disappeared!”

(Edelgard) “Where-...wait a minute, could they?-”

Her thoughts were interrupted when a bus came barreling through.

(Familiar Girl’s Voice) “S-SORRY EVERYONE!”

(Familiar Punk’s Voice) “SHIT MAN!”

Spinning around, the bus exploded into a cloud of smoke, revealing 3 figures and a cat.

(Byleth) “Identify yourselves!”

Looking up, they all had masks that was hard to make out their faces, but their hair...

No one had time to get a good luck and recognize them when 2 golems headed their way.

(Soldier) “INCOMING!”

The 3 figures and cat turned around, reaching for their masks.

(Everyone) “PERSONA!”

4 shadows emerged from them and flew towards the golem, using a combination of slicing and spells to wipe them out, with a fireball and tornado wiping out one while a bolt of lightning wiped out the others.

The wings of the boy in black’s shadow blew an incoming squad away and straight into the walls.

The boy made sure not to say a word and moved through the main gate of the Monastery.

(Byleth) “I’m going after them!”

(Edelgard) “Professor, wait!”

Before she could follow, Edelgard heard someone’s voice scream out.

(Dimitri) “EDELGAAAAARD!”

Slamming his lance against her shield, she knew that he wasn’t going to stop until either of them were dead.

She quietly muttered to herself.

(Byleth) “...Akira, Byleth, please be careful...”

Finally making it to the final room, Catherine was blown back by an explosion while Cyril fell to the floor, covered in frost.

[Blood of Villain - Persona 5]

(Rhea) “They’re still alive...You play an interesting game, Phantom Thieves.”

Everyone noticed that her eyes were yellow instead of green.

(Futaba) “D-Did her shadow merge with her real self?!”

(Ryuji) “Tch, she was already powerful enough!”

Byleth ran in, and stood beside Akira, drawing his sword.

(Rhea) “YOU, I WILL MAKE SURE YOU DIE BY MY HANDS! I WILL RIP YOUR HEART OUT OF YOUR CHEST!”

(Byleth) “Heh, kinda upset I didn’t realize you all were the Phantom Thieves beforehand...”

(Akira) “Little slow there, teach! But hope that isn’t true when it comes to this fight! As for you, you have anything to say Rhea?! For all the lives you’ve taken?!”

(Rhea) “THOSE WHO OPPOSE THE CHURCH WILL BE CRUSHED WITHOUT MERCY. I CARE NOT FOR YOUR OPINIONS...No matter...Thanks to your appearances, I can now get rid of all my problems at once! Phantom Thieves, the Empire, Byleth...Your crimes will not go unpunished!”

(Ann) “That’s our line, you psychotic bitch! Enforcing your law on everyone and killing them as soon as they disagree?! You’re the one in the wrong!”

(Rhea) “You have NO idea what I’ve suffered! THE EMPIRE WORKS WITH THOSE WHO SLITHER IN THE DARK, AND I WILL NEVER FORGIVE ANY WHO WORK WITH THEM.”

(Yusuke) “So, it would seem that she refuses to admit the fault in her logic.”

(Haru) “I can’t say that I’m surprised!”

(Makoto) “Words are meaningless, we gotta let our fists do the talking!”

[Blooming Villain - Persona 5]

(Rhea) “THEN ALL OF YOU WILL DIE!”

(Akira) “EVERYONE, LET’S FINISH THIS!”

Byleth rushed first, slamming the Sword of the Creator against Rhea's dagger.

She kicked him away, her strike hurting far more than he anticipated and flew back near the stairs.

(Akira) "ARSENE, TAKE HER DOWN!"

(Ann) "DANCE, CARMEN!"

Both of them took off their masks and summoned their Personas, Carmen igniting the area around Rhea as Arsene used its foot blade to cut her.

Wounded from the cut and bits of cloth and skin on fire, she ran through it and fired a spell at Arsene, making it stagger back.

Akira clenched his teeth as he felt the pain Arsene did, the spell hitting the shoulder hard.

Ann used her whip and swung it at Rhean which wrapped around Rhea's dagger.

Yanking it back, the whip flew out of her hand and into the floor.

Before Rhea rushed forward, she noticed that the rest of the Phantom Thieves were nowhere to be seen.

She leaped onto the air as bullets flew and hit the wall where she was, everyone pointing their guns at her.

Yusuke kept the pressure on her with his assault rifle, the bullets coming too rapidly for her to try anything.

When Rhea landed, she used her dagger to deflect a bullet, seeing Makoto attempting to make precise shots.

Rhea dashed towards Makoto and threw a fist out, which was caught by Makoto's arm, and whiffed to the side of her head.

Makoto kept her in place as she took off her mask, and a blinding blue light was underneath them.

Headbutting Makoto away, Rhea dodged the explosion by rolling away as she was barely caught by it.

Looking upwards, Ryuji, Morgana, and Haru had their Personas out, and Rhea was blinded by a psychokinesis spell.

Morgana's persona thrusted its rapier at her, but managed to dodge every single strike.

(Ryuji) "CAPTAIN KIDD!"

A cannon shot out of its arm, and hit Rhea in the stomach, making her crash through a wall.

Quickly getting up, Rhea tried to anticipate the next attack and barely managed to catch Yusuke's katana with her hand.

Joker came from behind and had Arsene grab her by the neck and slam her against the floor, sliding her and tossing her up onto the ceiling, making it crack with the impact.

Byleth jumped in and used the whip function of his sword to strike her midair, leaving a nasty wound across her chest.

Despite such a harsh assault, she managed to land on both her feet, looking at the Phantom Thieves.

Seeing her hands covered in blood, she clenched her teeth and her eyes widened with rage.

(Akira) "Surrender Rhea, you have lost!"

(Rhea) "No...NO! I WILL NEVER SURRENDER!"

(Futaba) "She's weak guys, LET'S FINISH THIS!"

(Akira) "ON ME!”

All of them hopped back and prepared for a final assault.

Drawing their weapons they all rushed her at once, striking at her weak and wounded spots in the blink of an eye.

Joker landed in front of Byleth, adjusting his gloves as Rhea’s body started shaking.

[Song End]

Rhea collapsed to the ground, not being able to stand up after that onslaught. 

Byleth nodded in thanks, and moved towards Rhea, pointing his sword at her.

Edelgard and the other Black Eagles moved in, surrounding her with the Phantom Thieves.

(Edelgard) “So, it really is you guys.”

(Akira) “Surprised?”

(Edelgard) “Not particularly. But, that’s for another time. Rhea. By the order of the Adrestian Empire, you will be imprisoned. This fight is over, you have lost.”

(Rhea) “No...”

Her body shook violently again, with her looking straight at Edelgard.

(Rhea) “NO! YOU WILL DIE! GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-”

The pressure she exerted pushed everyone back.

With her shape changing form, she towered over everyone.

(Edelgard) “Damn it! EVERYONE, RETREAT!”

Everyone started running out, with Byleth and the Phantom Thieves keeping her occupied.

(Edelgard) “EVERYONE, COME ON!”

(Akira) “Oracle, escape route for us? If she chases us, then everyone outside’s done for!”

(Futaba) “I can’t find any! Dang it, come on!”

(Ryuji) “Tch...I think there’s only one way out of here for them.”

Everyone turned to Ryuji, but realized what he meant.

There was no other way.

(Akira) “Professor, go. They need you!”

(Byleth) “What?! What about you all?!”

(Akira) “Don’t worry about that, you just gotta-”

Rhea began charging up a beam from her mouth, and Byleth spun around and activated the whip function, slicing at a massive pile of debris above them, cutting off the Black Eagles from them.

(Akira) “...I see.”

(Edelgard) “Everyone, what the hell are you doing?!”

(Byleth) “Hah...It’s all right. Now, get out of here!”

(Edelgard) “No, I won’t accept this! WE’RE NOT LEAVING YOU ALL BEHIND!”

(Akira) “Then we have to make you. ARSENE!”

Appearing outside the rubble, it closed its wings, using the pressure of the wind to send them flying away.

(Edelgard) “NO! LET ME STAY! BYLETH, AKIRA! NO!”

Byleth and Akira had a self-mocking smile, as they turned around.

(Akira) “Everyone, it’s been a good run.”

(Ryuji) “I don’t wanna die but...Hah, I’m glad I’m at least dying together with you all.”

(Ann) “You idiots were the best thing that happened to me, you know that?”

(Yusuke) “I concur...with you all, my life found its meaning.”

(Makoto) “I’m proud to have fought for justice with everyone.”

(Haru) “May we all meet again in a better life...”

(Morgana) “I guess this is goodbye then...Hey, Byleth...Thanks for everything too.”

(Byleth) “All of you...”

The Phantom Thieves turned around to Byleth.

(Byleth) “I’m proud to have been your teacher.”

Rhea fired the beam at them, everyone accepting their fate.

However, the beam reflected onto the ground from an unknown force, shattering the ground around them.

Rhea managed to fly away from it, albeit heavily injured but the rest of the Phantom Thieves and Byleth were surprised.

(Ryuji) “You gotta be effin’ kidding me! IS THIS FOR REAL?! AFTER ALL WE SAID, WE DIE TO SOME GOD DAMN RO-”

Before everyone could process that they were still alive, the ground beneath them collapsed, sending them into the bottomless canyon below.

(Everyone) “AAAAAAAH!” “SHIIIIIIT-” “WOAAAAH!? “GAAAAAAAAAH-”

...

...

...

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

The Bad Guy (G.D. Gang AU)

Summary: The world sees him as Grayson Dolan - the CEO of Dolan enterprises, an entrepreneur. Y/N will soon find a much darker side to the world’s favorite bachelor.  

Warnings: language, alcohol use, smut, fluff, angst, violence…

Word count: 27.6k

The Bad Guy Masterlist

A week I had been down here, listening to Grayson’s stubborn grunts and dry chuckles, coated in defiance and poison. A week I had spent in the cold, dark basement as leverage where I had been beaten and degraded in hopes of breaking him.

I’m not afraid anymore. Not for myself, but for him alone. Hearing them take turns torturing the man I had come to love in spite of my better judgement, I knew if he didn’t give them information they seek it would be his end.

Me?

I knew how my story would end. I think I knew it since the moment I said ‘fuck it’ and gave my heart to Grayson Dolan, leader of the most powerful gang on US soil.

I knew what would happen to me; that I’d meet my end at the edge of a sharp blade or at the barrel of a gun. I just didn’t know who would be on the other end.

It would be to break him, the final nail in the coffin.

They’ve tried hurting me in front of him, but he barely budged. He didn’t even flinch when I took punch after punch until I passed out. The merciless, unemotional coldness in his eyes never withered. His claim of no attachment to me remained despite their threats.

It stung, even knowing he said it in hopes of my release.

My skin has ruptured above the growing purple blooms. Every movement hurts. I am battered on the inside worse than any broken bone and without a doctor who can even detect the damage.

I sat curled up against the wall, shivering in my underwear and clutching to the already faded scent of his shirt. It was either suffocatingly quiet or pierced with the screams of tortured people, not only Grayson’s. I’ve learned to distinguish the sounds for Grayson never once screamed, not even when he was walking the line of life and death. He’s too proud to give them the satisfaction.

The never-ending punches from down the hall, behind the steel doors, they never stop. Angry shouting never stops.

Until they do.

Quick, heavy footsteps near me. Determined walking, I could tell. It wasn’t a good sign for me, not after the last time. The last time ended with me coughing up a lung and him losing consciousness after they punched him so hard I could have sword his neck broke.

The door opens and I jump to my feet, placing an invisible mask of stubborn fearlessness, hoping to hide my true emotions.

“Walk.” The order is simple, just as the gun pointed at my head. The man tilts his head, instructing me to move instead of staring at his bloodied hands. The dry blood meant it wasn’t his turn to torture Grayson, but me.

I obey his wishes, knowing I have no choice. It’s either listen or die…there’s no in between.

Walking down the dark hallway, seeing a small light at the end where Grayson is held, I hold my breath in anticipation of what is waiting for me once I arrive.

What will I find in there? A man too stubborn to die or his corpse after all the animalistic things they’ve done to him?

Pushed inside, I stumble forward, my legs weak from days of starvation and dehydration, the beating and loss of sleep.

Lips quivering, I look away from the barely recognizable image of the man I love. His face is made out of blood and bruises, cuts on every inch of his once impeccable skin. His eyes are swollen over, barely open and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. His hair is matted, no longer styled immaculate as he wore it before. He’s shirtless, only giving way for more injuries that line his body.

He’s barely alive, but he still refuses to talk.

I’m not even sure what this man wants from us, nor what Grayson did to anger him. I just know it will end us both if he keeps up his nonnegotiable attitude.

Refusing to cry, I keep my pieces close, not allowing them to shatter. If I shatter right now, I didn’t know what it would do to him.

“Now. I’ve had a change of heart.” The man smirks, putting a hand around me carelessly. I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, trying hard to restrain myself from acting up when I know I’m no match for him. I try my best not to look at Grayson, averting my eyes to the ground instead.

“I’m willing to let you go.” He says slyly, his raw voice brutal against my ear. Disgusted by his proximity, I struggle against him, shooting my right leg out but my movements are far too slow. Hands moving from my waist, the stranger seized my arms, trapping them to my side.

“It’s obvious this one will not admit to anything to save you…so…I want to offer you an out.” His tongue brushed my earlobe, forcing me to hold back on gagging as nauseating swirls began to dance in my very empty stomach.

He slides his hand down my right arm, forcing something cold and heavy in the palm of my hand. He wraps my fingers around the metal, his breath that smells of cigarettes and alcohol overwhelming my senses.

“Make the shot and you can go free.” That’s when I realized what he gave me. A gun.

“Try anything and my men will blow both your brains out.” He warns, finally stepping away from me.

I lift my hand up, biting down on my lower lip mercilessly as I gaze upon the deadly weapon in my possession. I’m trying to figure out if trying to aim the gun at someone else would be possible.

Closing my eyes with a slight shake of my head, I aim the gun at a calm Grayson and meet his gaze.

There is nothing behind the hazel swirls I loved so dearly, not a trace of the man I cherished. His eyes aren’t even hazel anymore, but brown and bloodied, barely giving way to the color I adored.

In those earthy hues was his soul, not in the way those cheesy romance novels described, so obsessed with lust, but with the kind of beauty that expands a moment into a personal eternity, a heaven you wish to be a part of. A heaven I got to be a part of.

That’s all gone now.

“Maybe this will make it easier for you.” The man speaks up, noticing the continuous trembling of my hands, my entire body at that.

“The very first night we took you, I told him we’d kill you…after taking turns raping you. He said: do as you please. She means nothing to me.” My eyes widen at the words, feeling as if I’ll break like a porcelain figurine. Once I break, nothing will put me back together again. Not even Grayson.

Could he ever say such a thing?

Could he sacrifice me for his business?

He always told me I’d never be his priority, so is this him keeping his word?

My rage grew, but I knew I’d never be able to pull the trigger. I might not be his priority, but he’s always been mine. I can hate him for his actions, never forgive him for what he had done…but he won’t die by my hand.

Not tonight.

I shook my head rapidly disallowing my second thoughts to get the better of me. Faltering, the gun is ripped out of my hand and I whimper at the forceful takeover.

“That’s disappointing.” He spat at me, but I didn’t fret.

They untie Grayson, placing the gun in his hand as well. He wouldn’t do this to me. I’m not afraid.

Faith - mine floated away from me a very long time ago, like a leaf being pulled away on the tide, and into the sea to become lost and alone, likely drowned. But I have faith in Grayson. I’ve always trusted him, not doubting he’d protect me.

That’s why this is much more painful than it had to be.

Without a second thought, in a single heartbeat, he aimed the gun at me and cocked his head.

“Sorry darling. Nothing personal.” And then he pulled the trigger.

One year earlier

Have you ever felt change in the air? Like something big, unstoppable is coming for you, prepared to turn your life around into something you can’t recognize?

I’ve felt that this entire day, deep in my bones.

Driving to a night shift at a bar wasn’t a part of that feeling. That’s routine. At least for me it is.

It’s been that way ever since I moved to New York and started classes in NYU because I couldn’t afford tuition in Columbia, my dream school. I wanted to study medicine, to get a degree and make my parents proud. They say that children rarely surpass what their parents became and I came from a salesman and a music teacher that were born and raised in a town so small it doesn’t show on many maps…in this day and age, I had nowhere to go but up.

I swore I’d leave that town and if working late nights at a bar in a popular club, flirting for tips is the way to go, then I’d do just that.

“VIP section wants whiskey on the rocks.” Carmen gave the order and I nod, grabbing glasses. Two years behind the bar gave me enough experience to do most things with eyes closed, but when it’s the good stuff they require all your senses sharpen.

“How many?” I ask, taking the bottle of our finest whiskey.

“Eight.” She bends down, picking up a bottle of tequila for drunk frats on the other end of the bar and I gawk at her.

“This should make a nice tip!” If the guys have hundreds of dollars to spend on eight glasses of whiskey, I’m sure a wink paired with a smile would get me at least a third if not more of the original price.

Older they are, creepier but more generous they get. I’ve learned that fast. However, they were easy to impress. The young guys were those who actually expected innocent flirting to go further and got pissed when I put them in their place, denying me a proper tip at that.

Assholes.

Adding ice, I take the tray and make my way to the VIP section, swaying lightly to the beat. I couldn’t risk spilling these drinks for they cost as much as my kidneys, so I quickly stopped myself and plastered a smile before entering the section behind a velvet rope.

One look is enough for me to groan internally, seeing five young men and three men in their fifties.

“Frank.” I lean closer to the guard, making sure he’s aware I might need him. Although he’s always been there in time, I had to remind him for my sake.

“Stay close. I might need you.” Frank nods, his pale blue eyes darkening once he looks back at the men in their fancy suits.

“No worries, little one. Always am. Keeping my eye on them.”

Extremely self-conscious of my slightly exposing uniform, I take a deep breath and step up to the podium with their table.

Eight men sitting, three standing - guards most likely.

In the center of the table sit two almost identical men, both in suits and looking like they belong on a runway instead of the crowd they’re with. But only one of the two caught my eye.

Shaking my head slightly, I move closer once the same guy looks up at me, eyeing me up and down before rolling his eyes and waving me over.

Oh, here we go.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” I coat my voice in unnecessary sweetness, hoping to smooth over the waiting time that added up in my hesitation to approach them.

I started placing a glass in front of each man, ignoring the fact someone’s hand is brushing my ass and most of them are peering at my cleavage for a better view.

“We won the jackpot tonight boys!” The man who clearly knows no bounds taps my ass and I jump up, knocking over the last glass all over one of the guests.

Gasping, eyes wide in horror, I feel cold sweat wash over me.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” I begin apologizing profusely, hands trembling as I dab his thigh with a rag until his hand firmly grasps my wrist, stopping me effectively.

“Stop!” He practically growls at me, forcing me to look up despite my want to disappear.

“Get me another.” His voice clears as he looks into my eyes, the dark brown enticing me to nod silently. I realize just now that it’s the same man I first noticed upon entering, the one who called me over. Denying myself the pleasure to look at him any better, I nod curtly.

“Right away sir!” I squeal, swallowing thickly when I feel a hand on my lower back again. Turning around, I face the dickhead who made me spill and glare at him.

“Please don’t touch the servers, sir.” My voice is anything but pleasant and I don’t care. Fondling is where I draw the line. Slapping the unwanted hand away from me, I walk around him and start walking away on wobbly legs. Hearing a loud, gruff laugh, I glance back at the table only to see the old bastard enjoying his advances and the fact he got away scot free.

I grimace, trying to hold back tears and run the hell out of there with Frank calling after me.

“Get me a glass of that whiskey on rocks and a shot for me.” I ask Carmen, my voice as shaky as I feel.

Nauseous, skin crawling, screaming inside - that’s how I feel. There’s always someone throwing unsavory comments my way, but almost none have ever put their hands on me in that degree.

“You alright, hon?” Carmen gave me a sympathetic smile as I shook my head and quickly downed the shot.

“Nah. But I will be.” Shrugging, I grab the tray and head back, a little more confident than I left. A shot can do a girl wonders when necessary.

Coming nearby, I find one of the guards pushing that old sack of shit out the back door and stop, unable to contain a smile.

“I’m sorry I -” Frank stops me, but I pass right by, preparing to face the music again.

The table is now a man short, my heart a little calmer.

Placing the drink before the young man, I apologize once more only to find the guard that escorted that ass take his place behind the same guy.

“Thank you.” I whisper to the guard, turning to leave when a hand wrapped around my wrist again.

“You’re thanking the wrong man.” He glances at me, releasing my hand and I turn back around, eyes gliding over the men around him and the man I deemed his brother beside him. His brother is the only one watching the interaction, none of the others seems to dare look at me.

“Thank you for stepping in, especially after the spilling incident.” I swallow my pride and thank him for intervening, deciding he deserves it.

Waiting for a response, for a look my way at the very least, I quickly realize it won’t happen when his hand sets mine free.

I’m left looking at his stylish brown hair and sharp jawline instead, unable to see much more from this angle. He’s got wide shoulders, that I can be sure of.

“Well, uh…if that’s all.” I step back, lips set in a firm line until his voice coaxed me to stop.

“A bill would be great.” He reminds me, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow and I stop, tapping my pockets for the bill in panic. If I don’t have a bill, legally they don’t have to pay for a single thing which means I am the one paying for it. I can’t afford that to happen.

Feeling the crumbled paper in my left back pocket, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’ve been holding and unfold the paper in front of him.

“Wait.” He stops me once more and I tense up, biting my lip.

“Yes, sir?”

“You only put down eight drinks. We had nine this evening.” He points out and I frown, licking my lips.

“I’ve spilled one, sir.” I remind him sheepishly, growing uncomfortable under his unrelenting state.

Unexpectedly, the man stands up and my level of distress skyrockets.

He is TALL tall and very muscular, even under the suit it’s obvious. His eyes are dark and knowing, his nose perfectly shaped for his face, all his features sharp and appealing like something out of a Taylor Swift song.

He’s so tall and handsome as hell. He’s so bad, but he does it so well? Sounds about right.

“What happens when you spill a drink?” He steps closer, lights dancing on his skin as I feel my heart thundering inside my chest.

He looks like a walking Taylor Swift song, but he feels like he just walked out of a Lana del Rey’s song.

His presence alone commands awe, respect and his charisma can make any human stop and forget what they’re doing so long as it pleases him. He is magnetic, electric, someone you can get lost in before knowing what’s happening.

But he’d never go for a girl like me. His suit alone costs more than my car.

“I pay for the damage, sir.” I respond confidently, surprising myself with the calm and collected front I had put on.

His eyes narrow at me, just enough for him to make out my features better in the darkness.

“How much is one glass of this whiskey?” He pushes further and I gulp, wondering if he can see my heart beating out my chest. What does any of this have to do with him anyway? It’s becoming literal torture to speak to him where we both lean forward to hear the other better and none of that leaning forward ends with his lips on mine.

“Two hundred dollars, sir.” I answer, feeling my breathing turn more shallow by the minute.

“You don’t strike me as someone who can afford something like that.” He points out and I chuckle nervously, shrugging.

“All part of my job.”

He grabs his back pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet and opens it up, exposing an impressive bundle of cash.

I couldn’t not stare at the money, nor wrap my mind around the fact people just walk around with that amount like it’s nothing.

“Here.” He hands me the money.

“That’s for nine glasses.” He continues to grab more money, counting silently as his plush lips move accordingly.

“And for your efforts.” He pockets a rather large looking sum in my apron, knocking the wind out of me.

“That’s too much, sir. I can’t accept this.” I try to give the money back when he reaches out and takes my hand in his, holding it captive.

“Take it. It will do you much more good than it could for me.” He states, not breaking eye contact that has become far too intimate for my taste.

“And it’s Grayson. Sir makes me feel old.”

I nod, walking away, certain I’d never see Grayson again.

But he was there the next night.

And the night after that.

And many more to come.

He always requests me as their server by name, somehow knowing it without me ever saying it. He never addressed me by it, but I knew he knew.

Every night consists of him and his brother, Ethan as I’ve been told, coming by and taking the same table in the VIP section, their guard with them.

Every night I bring them whiskey on the rocks, the two hundred a glass type, and every night he gives me a tip so generous that I finally learned what it meant to buy a new book to study from instead of handy downs.

And I love the smell of new books!

Grayson would barely speak to me, politely exchanging orders and thank you’s, but each night his discreet looks started becoming less and less discreet.

Three weeks in, he didn’t bother just glancing at me with his serious face on and a very hardened look he kept steady for whoever would join the table that night. He didn’t just glance, but stare every chance he got. And despite my better judgement, I stared back.

“Keep the rest, Y/N.” Grayson’s three thousand dollars in my hands shocked me, especially when the bill was just a little over a thousand and a half. It’s also the first time ever he used my name in a conversation. And I liked it. The way my name rolled over his pretty pink lips left me in shackles of lust he evoked.

“I can’t keep taking all this money, Grayson.” I leaned in, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Y/N Y/L/N, early twenties, student and living in a studio apartment. Yes, I know the exact age which I’ll keep quiet because it’s rude to talk about a lady’s age, and yes, I know your exact address, but I’d like you to feel comfortable around me so I’ll keep it to myself. You need this money and you earn it every night. I award those who do their jobs well, so take it and don’t question it.” He tapped my shoulder, the air around us turning static with contact as it always does when he touched me, accidentally or not.

“You had me investigated?” I whisper shout, prepared to call Frank on him. This goes beyond creepy, it’s stalkerish!

“I like to know who works in my close proximity. Nothing to worry about.” Winking, he walked back to the table and grabbed his jacket, snapping his fingers and the rest stood with him, leaving as I’m left gobsmacked. All he had to give me is a quick glance over the shoulder as he folded the jacket over his forearm, leaning in as he stopped beside me.

“I’m sure you investigated me too.” His cologne alone is enough to make my head spin, let alone the muscles bulging under his white dress shirt. He fixed his tie, pursed his lips when he noticed I barely blink anymore and walked away.

That’s all it was, just looks and occasional eyebrow raise, not even a smile to spare.

Two months in, that’s when I got my first smile. And although he was wrong the first time around, I did do my research on him in the meantime as he was gone for a few weeks.

A businessman with restaurants, clubs, gyms even, all over the country! He owns a studio in LA as well! His company DT media, which he started with his twin brother is one of the most lucrative companies in the world.

He’s not just rich, he’s filthy rich! Squeaky clean record, most eligible bachelor, prince charming in this day and age.

Yes, I needed a couple of shots to truly take that in.

“Missed me?” He smirked once I came up to the table with his usual order, his ear now sporting a wing shaped earring like I’ve seen in the photos, but never on him. He traded in a suit for a leather jacket, only adding on his bad boy look.

“Those abs? Yes. Those remarks? Nope!” I’m no longer stiff around him, openly sassing back which he seems to like.

His lips curl upwards, the soft skin spreading until his pearly whites showed, blurred with an amused shake of his head.

“Oh! So, he can smile! I can die in peace!” I teased, giggling at him for he now chuckled as well.

A smirk, a smile and a chuckle all at once? I truly got blessed.

“Funny! For your information, I missed you.” Grayson didn’t hold back, which stunned me for a second. He’s truly in a good mood tonight. He’s never flirted with me, not like that. It was all – tortured and broody, all in stolen glances and accidental touches kind of a flirtation.

“Good to know.” I smile, genuinely unsure what to say to that. What do people say to these things?

I felt his eyes on me as I walked away, managing to resist the urge to look back at him. I’m sure he missed seeing me walk away just as much as he missed me.

But when I returned, he wasn’t happy. Hunched over and talking in hush voices, Ethan and Grayson looked almost panicked.

Until Grayson saw me and ran up to me with a wild look in his brownish - hazel eyes.

“I need to borrow your car.” He states and I scoff, thinking he’s joking. A man of his stature needs to borrow my old car? Funny.

“Keys, Y/N! Now!” He raised his voice at me, shaking me up for he never did that after I initially spilled a drink on him. He’s always been calm and patient. This is a new side to him. One I’ve never seen.

“It’s a piece of junk. Might not even start.” I defend my Impala, the only object in my life that matters to me.

“It’s a matter of life and death, okay?! Please?” I didn’t need anymore convincing, fishing out my keys. He snatched them out my hand, pressing a hard, quick peck to my cheek as he and Ethan ran out the back, giving me a view of a gun Ethan had in the back of his jeans.

I’m not sure what stunned me more: the peck or the gun. What the hell does he need a gun for?

Grayson didn’t return the next night. Nor the next one. Not that week, leaving me frustrated after getting a call from the police about my wrecked car, abandoned in Brooklyn.

Without a car, or any answers, I took matters in my own hands.

I walked into DT media every day after class and requested to see Grayson Dolan only to be turned around.

Unlucky for him, I’m not a quitter.

I badgered his business on daily basis over internet, phones, letters, faxes, in person. All in order to get something concrete to justify why I no longer have my car…the only thing I gave a damn about.

Until luck struck like lightning.

“Grayson Bailey Dolan!” I shouted in the lobby, catching his fleeting figure leaving the elevator.

He tensed up, turning toward me with a stony face and a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

I rushed toward him, glaring at him on the way.

“You’ve been a pain in the ass these days.” Grayson states, not allowing me to speak first and I chuckle dryly.

“And you borrowed my car, wrecked it and abandoned it in Brooklyn!” I grumble, certain my blood pressure is off the charts.

“So?” He clicks his tongue, lifting his right hand to check the time as if this conversation is just another thing he wants to wrap up and get rid of me.

“So?!” I look at him in disbelief, my blood boiling.

“It took me four hundred dollars to get it back after it was impounded by police! Two hundred to tow it to the nearest mechanic! And now they say it will cost me more to fix the car than to buy a new one!” My voice echoed throughout the fairly empty lobby, most people dare not look our way just like in the club.

“Again. Why is this my problem?” Grayson points a finger at himself and I am sure my eyes now hold actual flames from the fire he unleashed inside me.

“I want my damn car fixed, Grayson! Cough up the cash or get me your insurance company info, do something!” Voice raw from shouting, I found myself at my wits end, ready to give up.

“I have no idea why I’d do that for you. I had nothing to do with your car being totaled.” He shrugged, walking past me.

I grab him by the arm, forcing him to stop and look at me. His muscles are hard, big under my touch and his eyes threatening as he towers over me with his lips set in a firm line. His forehead wrinkles and a single hair falls out of place on his perfect head.

Straightening my back, I look him straight in the eyes, not allowing his built to intimidate me.

“You will fix my car or I’ll be your worst nightmare.” With my voice dark and low, I realize I’m actually threatening a man much more powerful than I could ever be.

“If you think I was a nuisance before, you’ll be shocked to see how far I’ll go to get what’s mine.” With that, I let go of him and walk right by him, intentionally ramming my shoulder into his. It hurt me more than it hurt him, but it’s the message behind that move that counts!

Next time I saw him was a week later, once more in his seat at the club and my services requested again.

“Hello, my little nuisance.” He greets me with a wide smile, taking the glass in his hand before I have the chance to put it before him.

I huffed, narrowing my eyes at him chiefly to take in the leather jacket, bad guy, James Dean look he’s sporting instead of the usual suit and tie I’ve come to love.

This felt more relaxed, but much more dangerous. The last time I saw him wearing leather was the night I said goodbye to my car.

“Anything else, sir?” I emphasize, making his brother burst into laughter, Grayson himself placing a hand over his chest.

“Ouch, doll. What did I ever do to deserve this?” He faked a pained expression, but a smile on his lips is a dead giveaway this is all just a joke to him.

“I’m not your doll! And you owe me something.” I lean back, grabbing my tray from the table quickly.

But he is quicker than I am.

In moments, his arm wrapped around my elbow, pulling me into his now standing form. I gasp involuntarily due to a mixture of genuine surprise and his body against mine.

Firm in all the right places, that’s the first thing I notice.

Warm, engulfing me in that warmth, that’s the second one.

Smell of cologne and not the store bought kind like I’m used to, but the expensive kind where one bottle would pay for my car to be fixed. That’s the third.

“When your shift ends, I’ll be waiting.” With that, he let go of me and a sudden wave of polar coldness spread through me. The tone he used wasn’t meant to frighten me, but a part of me did fear him. There’s more to the Grayson Dolan who wears suits and expensive watches than it meets the eye. There’s something there, much more sinister than anyone could comprehend.

I rushed back to the bar, still holding my breath as my lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. I watched the clock with dread, seeing I have an hour left and to my surprise, I wasn’t called back for Grayson slipped me the cash when he let go of me.

Confident he forgot, I walked outside and almost had a heart attack when I saw him leaning on a baby blue Porsche with his arms crossed over his chest.

A car parked behind his was a simple jeep, his brother behind the wheel.

“Why are you here?” I cross my arms too, holding my bag closer.

“You said I owe you and well, I’m a man who pays his debts.” The confident smirk of his reappears, wiping all my confidence away in an instance.

“Like it?” He gestures to the car and I furrow my eyebrows in response.

“Your dream car if I’m right?” It’s a rhetorical question, that much is clear. His glances from the car to me only fuel my confusion. How deep did he go when he investigated me?

“Yes. But -” I begin, raising my right hand to my temple, pressing two fingers to it to ease the growing pressure.

“It’s yours.” Grayson states and I feel my legs lose their footing and waver.

“The fuck?! Grayson I asked for a few thousands to fix my Impala, not for a Porsche!” I shout, my voice high and almost shrill from the shock.

“Are you seriously yelling at me for giving you your dream car?” Grayson chuckles, sauntering toward me with the dreamiest look in his dark eyes. I pause, noticing the power behind those breathtaking eyes. The power that's as reckless as a tornado. His eyes flash. For a moment they look golden with warmth... and as careless as hell.

Pushing my hair back, securing it behind my ears, I look at him in disbelief.

“It’s a very beautiful car, but I can’t accept something so expensive.” Trying to keep my voice leveled, I sigh, rubbing my forehead now.

“Yes, you can. You deserve actual beauty in your life…well, beauty besides yourself.” He states, coming closer and my eyes widen, wild in the realization he just complimented me without a second thought.

“You’re not my sugar daddy and I am not a gold digger, Grayson.” I barely get the words out before he closes the distance between us, pressing his index finger to my lips. Tentatively, he traces my cupid bow, then my lower lip as if he’s searching something in the smallest of nooks of the soft flesh.

“I just want you to have something nice for once. Just accept the car, okay?” A part of me felt self-conscious with our close proximity, wondering if he can see the growing zit on my left cheek or if he could notice the eye bags I’ve been trying to cover up with a ton of make-up but failed, but another part of me hoped he would stop this torture where my heart thumped so strongly when he neared me and just kiss me already, ending the intoxicating desire to have him closer than humanly possible.

And just as I give in, gravitating toward him, slowly standing on my tiptoes, Grayson takes two steps back, making me nearly fall in his sudden need for space.

“Take the car, because it’s used. Does that help?” He continues his mission to convince me and I let out a shaky breath upon the loss of his touch. I wanted him. Now I knew that for sure. I longed for him.

“Used?” I raise a brow in question, wanting to keep the conversation going simply to have him with me longer.

“I already had it cleaned, but I may have christened the back seat twice…the front seat a couple times more.” My eyes popped at his confession, disgust at the implications and jealousy for I wanted that and although I’m not an idiot to assume he’s untouched, I didn’t need to picture him with other girls in the very car he’s offering me.

The keys come flying at me and I barely catch them before they smack my chest. Grayson walks to the other car, opening the Jeep doors with a wink sent my way.

However, I rushed after him, pocketing the keys in his jacket.

“Goodnight, sir.”

Walking away, I heard a loud groan and smiled at the sound. Wrapping my jacket around my body tighter, folding my arms over my chest for additional warmth, I keep walking into the night on high alert. Its pass two after midnight and I��m a cautious type. And for good reason.

“Get in.” A car stops beside me - a baby blue Porsche.

“Nope.” I don’t spare him a second look. He needs to learn to let things go. I’m certain he’s never had a woman say no to him before.

“Y/N, get in or I will make you get in!” He shouts, practically growling and I shake my head, keeping my eyes ahead.

That’s when he stops the car and is by me in a heartbeat. Next thing I know, I’m pushed into the car with a fleeting warmth from his arms before the door locks and I find myself stuck inside as Grayson sits in the passenger’s seat.

“What the fuck, Grayson?!” I try to open the door again, getting a smug smile on his behalf.

“You’re walking the streets dressed like that so late? Not on my watch.” His gruff voice and fingers paling against the steering wheel made me pipe down, knowing he’s right. Yes, it’s dangerous, but I had no choice in the matter.

“Well, someone ruined my car.” I mumble under my breath and he sighs, shaking his head at me before craning his neck to look at me properly.

“I’ll get your fucking car fixed, okay?” The language he uses matched his frustration with me and I could hardly contain my smile.

“So stubborn.” He’s the one mumbling now and my efforts to keep a smile at bay fail me and he notices almost immediately.

“Oh, you think this is funny? Let’s see how funny it is when I drive you home every night until I have your car fixed.” And my smile is effectively replaced with lips parting and eyes narrowing at the handsome man beside me. Okay, it’s not necessarily a bad thing to get more time with a handsome man such as himself, but the fact he’s so determined unnerves me.

“You’re not the boss of me, okay? I understand you’re used to bossing everyone around and having things your way, but I’m not a doll you can play with and expect to obey your unwritten rules.” Pulling my bag closer to my chest, I avert my gaze to the window, looking out to see he is driving me straight home because as he said it before, he knows where I live.

“I’m sorry.” He says through gritted teeth, like the words in his mouth are alien, acid. I’m sure he’s not the type to spew apologies often. It makes me appreciate the effort even more.

“I just want you safe. Is that a good enough reason to drive you home after I destroyed your car?” He asks, stopping in front of my building and I turn to him with a smile when he unlocks my door.

“You finally admit it.” I grant him a smile, moving to open the door with my right hand when he takes my left one. He brings it to his lips, pressing the back of it into his heavenly plush and I’m sure the gesture made me blush like a schoolgirl.

“See you tomorrow, doll.”

And I did.

Grayson wasn’t shy about his frequent visits and I didn’t hide how happy those visits made me. I know I said he and I wouldn’t work because he’d never give me time of the day, but I was wrong. The more time I got to spend with him on the rides after work, the more I craved his company.

The first night after centered on a squabble for the radio.

“The driver picks music!” He slapped my hand away and I slapped his right back.

“I’d be the driver if I had my car, you know.” I narrowed my eyes at him and his devilish smirk widened at my remark.

“You can’t play the guilt card forever, you know?” He emphasized the last bit, mimicking my voice to the best of his ability to provoke a response and he definitely got one. I hogged the radio for the rest of our drives as result of him being unable to handle my silent treatment.

Our interactions in the club remained professional for the most part, nothing to make anyone suspicious, no one knowing the truth but his brother who always minded his own business as if to give us a sense of privacy.

Night after night, I went to work with a smile, finally content with my life.

Day after day, I looked forward to the darkness that takes the city hostage for hours on end because that darkness brought me him.

‘I won’t be in tonight, doll. I’ll come by to pick you up after.’

My heart sunk at the thought of our time being cut short tonight, making the shift drag on. That’s until I was requested by name in the VIP section.

Happy to know he made it anyway, I grab his usual and rush to the table I’m used to seeing him at. I used to dread it, but it’s become my favorite part of the club.

However, once I walk in there, Grayson isn’t the one in the seat.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir. What would you like to order?” I quickly plaster on my fake smile, letting the professional in me take over as I scan the slightly older man and the snake tattoos on his neck. Swallowing thickly as he allowed himself the time to look me up and down like I’m there for his pleasure instead to serve him drinks, I used the time to properly remember him for future needs.

He’s someone I need to beware of, I just felt it.

“Don’t worry, doll. You got my drink just right. You with a side of whiskey.” The man spoke, his voice rough like sandpaper, my nickname sounding unnatural coming from him. It’s the nickname Grayson had given me and after a lot of bickering about it, I’ve learned to love it – love the way he said it with a longing smile and an oddly gentle look in his eye. This man said it like it was a swear word, something that is meant to harm you.

“I’m afraid I’m not on the menu, but the drinks sure are.” I remark, placing the drinks in front of him and his two men, showing him no fear. But I am scared. You can easily tell who the bad guy is and this guy seems to be one of the worst.

“That’s too bad, doll. I thought it said Y/N on here.” He leans back, raising his left leg up so his left ankle rests on his right knee. He’s spread out in his seat, trying to take as much space as he can and he isn’t shy about making sure I know it when he reaches for his dick to scratch.

Disgusting.

“How do you know my name?” I quirk a brow, feeling my brain catching up with his words. He’s using my nickname, my name and he’s sitting in this particular booth.

“Tell my old friend Grayson, Damien sends his regards. Can you handle that, doll?” Even the mention of Grayson’s name makes my heart pick up pace, the back of my neck now drenched in cold sweat and my fingers numbing from fear.

“I’m not sure who you’re referring to, sir.” I lie through my teeth, hearing my inner voice warning me this man is not to be trusted. Whatever it is that he wants, I can’t let him know about my friendship with Grayson.

“Oh, I think you do, doll.” He winks at me, casually bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip before I take a step back and politely smile back as expected of me.

“If that’s all, I have to get back to the bar.” I duck out of there as fast as possible, minding my walk so it doesn’t seem like I’m running. I can’t let them know they inspired fear, because that would give away all I’ve tried to hide.

Locking myself in the bathroom, I quickly text Grayson.

‘Who the hell is Damien and why is he telling me to send you his regards?!’

No answer.

‘Grayson, he called me doll the entire time and he sat in your booth, in your seat and requested me by name.’ I type furiously, my fingers trembling as I do. I find myself picking at my nail polish nervously, feeling my mind is on fire with the waiting period. Any answer on his behalf would soothe me, but I can’t even breathe until I finally hear the sound.

My phone rings.

“Get out of there now!” Grayson shouts and I frown, looking around the bathroom panicked. I was wrong. His voice didn’t soothe me for I could hear the worry laced behind his shouting and it made the dread in my stomach that much worse.

“Why? What’s going on?” I question, my words coming out fast just as my legs turn to jelly.

“I’ll be there in five, already on my way, doll.” There it is…the glorious sound of my nickname coming from his lips – so effortlessly beautiful.

“O-okay.” I grimace as I stutter, hating the fear that crept up to me and took over every cell in my body.

“Just breathe, okay? Leave everything and don’t tell anyone you’re going out.” I listen to his instructions, but I can’t just leave.

“If I do that, I’ll lose this job. Grayson, I need this job!” I fumble with my apron, unable to untie the knot with just one hand. Pressing the phone against my cheek with the support of my left shoulder, I use my nails to untie the damn knot and the apron falls to the bathroom floor.

“Fuck the job! I’ll find you a different job! A better one! But you have to leave. Y/N, do you trust me?” Grayson’s panic overwhelms me, for I never heard this man sound quite so worried other than the night he asked for my keys. I know how well that turned out, so his worry translates to me freaking out.

Pausing before answering, my eyes closed shut as I try to silence my mind for a moment to think.

“Doll, trust me. Please.” And that’s when I know what to do without thinking.

Grayson Dolan is a man of many virtues, but begging wasn’t one of them. He’s the man who demands and makes things happen. Such men don’t strike you as someone who plead often. And this was Grayson Dolan pleading, asking me to do something irrational without an explanation and I trusted him.

In that moment, I trusted him with my life.

“Alright.” I press my lips together, opening the door and quickly moving around the dancing drunken people. Looking around, I made my way to the nearest exit, shutting the door behind me and walking into the alley.

“I’m almost there. Stay on the line.” Grayson’s voice shakes me up, reminding me he’s still there. I wouldn’t have heard him inside, but I heard him perfectly in this moment. Now it offers some of that comfort I craved, letting my knots be untied slowly.

He’s coming for me. I’m going to be okay.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” That rough, sinister voice made my heart stop beating and breath halt in my throat. Turning around, I blinked slow, afraid of the man who licked his lips and flicked his cigar to the side like he just found his entertainment for tonight.

“I’m just taking a break. Talking to my sister and her husband.” I point to the phone, making up an excuse and hoping to hear Grayson on the other end. But the line is silent.

Fuck. I just need to hear his voice to calm down, but without it, I feel myself slipping into the clutches of pure fear.

“Ah, family. How cute. My family is tight too.” He comes closer to me, pushing back his wavy tapper and I notice a vertical scar running along his entire right side of the face.

“Very tight.” He repeats, making sure I understood him well. The closer he gets, the more steps I take back to keep the distance between us. But I know should he wish it, I’d be caught in his grip shortly. I’m no match for him.

“Now, why don’t we get acquainted better and you can tell Grayson how good I made you feel?” He sneers, grabbing both my hands and pushing me into the wall next to me, slamming my head into it in the process.

My thought process is jumbled, my eyes barely opening from the impact and I feel warm liquid dripping down my neck as he presses closer to me, fumbling with his jeans. All my fight or flight instincts kick in as I drive my left knee up and into his nether region immediately.

He groans, doubling down before growling like a wounded beast. I stumble forward, still hazy from the blow and stop dead in my tracks when bright lights blind me and arms grab onto me. I fall into a hard chest, feeling warmth engulf me and a familiar scent of cologne intoxicates my senses.

It’s Grayson. I need no vision to see when my heart feels him.

“Take her.” He pushes me into someone else, the warmth and smell changing, but I don’t feel any less safe. I know he’d never let someone untrustworthy hold me.

I still turn around, looking at his dark figure over my right shoulder.

“Gray.” I manage to croak out, weak and faint.

He glances at me with his eyes wide in worry and a soft expression on his face.

Until Damien coughs, laughing.

In split second, I saw Grayson’s eyes turn dark and cloudy with hatred and rage, his face contorting, hardening as every muscle clenched and it didn’t look like Grayson I know anymore.

This is a machine.

“Take her!” He barks a command at the man holding me, walking toward Damien with hands turned to fists – each of his fists reflecting light off the brass knuckles on them. My eyes widen and I trash against the man who tightens his hold on me.

I watch Grayson begin throwing punches as I’m dragged into the back seat of a Jeep, realizing it’s Ethan who has me.

“Don’t look. Okay? Just look at me?” Ethan takes my face in his hands, keeping it steady as I hear the grunts, swearing in the distance. I could barely focus on anything, the ringing in my ears growing louder and my vision blurring. For a moment I was sure I saw them both, but it was just Ethan’s face doubling before my eyes. Not a bad sight to witness.

“I’m not…f-feeling w-w-well.” I stammer, my eyes rolling back into my skull as the last things I hear before passing out are a loud “FUCK” and a gunshot cracking in the air as loud as thunder.

**

Waking up to a splitting headache and hushed bickering left me with a dire need to calm my wild heart. Squinting because the light is too bright for me to process properly, I shield my eyes from the brightness with a hand raised toward the ceiling. Using my other hand to help my heavy body into a sitting position, I push my legs over the edge touching the hardwood floor with the tips of my toes.

Grabbing my head with both hands in an attempt to keep it on my shoulder, I grimace from the aches I started to feel in my entire body. The nausea didn’t help either.

Forcing myself to look around, I found myself in a bright, airy room with dominant white and red colors thanks to the squeaky clean look the room held. The walls are white as pearls, sheets a deep maroon to match the antique looking furniture around me. Every cabinet, drawer, even the closet door are a reddish color with flowery and bird themes. To my surprise, there’s even a keyboard in one corner, a guitar right beside the bed and several potted plants around.

All in all, I have no idea where I am and it brings the disorienting feeling to maximum level. Dizzy, barely holding myself up, I decide to follow the hushed voices. Mostly leaning on the wall, I find the door, entering a long hall with yellow and red colors, words written on the walls and paintings on them I barely looked at as my movements took most my concentration.

Finally at the end of the hall, I peak through the ajar door and find Grayson with his brother.

“You need to fucking cut this shit out, bro!” Ethan leaned toward Grayson who kept his back turned to the door.

“You can’t be out there starting a war for a girl you’re not even with! Have some fucking sense!” Ethan shouted and I bite my lower lip to stop it from quivering once I remember the gunshot I heard just before passing out.

“I’m not an idiot, alright? He’s pushing my boundaries to see how far he can go and if I let him start picking off my people, even the ones that aren’t officially in our crew, that’s when he’ll find us vulnerable.” Grayson reasoned, turning back around and no amount of lip biting could stop me from gasping at the sight, attracting unwanted attention with it.

Grayson’s white shirt was redder than the furniture in his room, more than my nail polish. His sleeves pulled to his elbows reveal his tattooed arms tainted with blood so much so his blue ink was barely visible under the matted substance. His face is coated in blood droplets, his neck bearing the marks as well.

“Y/N?” Grayson says my name with wide eyes as if he didn’t expect to see me right now, but all I can think is ‘run’.

No matter what he meant to me so far, this was too much for anyone to handle. He had hurt someone and I couldn’t make myself stay and look at him any longer. I don’t care that the person he hurt was scum, or that it was for me, only that his hands aren’t clean and he’s unpredictable.

Stumbling back in hopes of running, my legs give out and I fall flat on my ass with a pained ‘oof’, panic taking over me once he opens the door and I realize I can’t run.

Propped up only by my hands, legs tucked closer to me, eyes flickering from one twin to the other, I start dragging myself back and away from him.

Grayson takes a step closer and I feel a scream forming in my throat and just before I let it out, Ethan grabs his brother by the arm and pulls him back.

“Bro, look at her. She’s terrified of us.”

Grayson turned his eyes to me, a gentle look in his eyes just as it was when I called him Gray. But a speck of blood by his right eye is enough to keep me rooted and not give into his charmingly good looks. The fear sits on me like a pillow over my mouth and nose. Enough air gets by it, allowing my body to keep functioning, but it's crippling all the same. I never thought I’d be scared of Grayson Dolan ever again, the feeling so foreign after all the sweet moments we’ve shared.

Was it all an illusion?

“Y/N.” He starts slowly, lifting his hands up toward me in surrender, slowly bending down until he sits on the floor on his knees.

“It’s still me, okay?” His voice is softened, laced with care and worry, but I shake my head in denial.

“It’s not you. You’re not the Grayson Dolan I know.” I reply, barely keeping my voice from spiraling into the wailing cracks I’ve felt tearing at my throat.

“Doll…” He tries, the corners of his lips twitching as he swallows thickly, struggling to find the right words to say. But to call me that name again…that’s not the right thing, not by a long shot.

“Don’t call me that!” I shout, my own loudness echoing inside my head. Forced to shut my eyes until the sudden wave of pain wavers, I struggle to breathe with images of all the times Grayson showed me kindness overwhelm me.

Why is my own brain working against me?

“I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.” He says quietly, his voice just above a whisper but calm and steady.

The adrenaline floods my system like it's on an intravenous drip - right into my blood at full pelt. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide, letting in every ounce of the fading light. My body wants to either run fast for the hills or work to find weaponry, but instead I stay right where I am. Sometimes freezing is the best of the choices, and let's face it, there really are only three.

“Who the hell are you, Grayson? Really?” I question, pushing myself forward to relieve my arms from the pressure of holding me up entirely. I wasn’t leaving anytime soon due to my inability to stand and the dizziness settling in, but I also needed answers.

“I’ll tell you everything you need to know, just…Not now. You need to rest now.” Grayson offered me his hand to take and I narrowed my eyes at him – not only in suspicion and judgement, but to focus long enough to see him well enough instead of three blurry versions of him.

“I can’t rest with...”I pause, swallowing my spit to keep myself from throwing up.

“With a man drenched in blood who I obviously know nothing about.” I finish the words, seeing his curt nod at the last moment before he stands up.

“When you stop seeing double, I’ll answer all your questions. Until then, my brother will take you to sleep as the doctor requested after giving you those sedatives. Goodnight.” Grayson’s jaw clenched before he turned around and walked out, leaving me alone with Ethan who huffed before he crouched beside me.

I instantly relax, refusing to feel guilty about the hurt in Grayson’s eyes.

“Can’t get up, huh?” He guessed about right, a half smile on his face when he notices me nod in defeat.

“Let’s go, princess.” The next thing I know I’m wrapped in his arms, my head on his shoulder as the small steps he takes lull me to sleep before he even puts me down.

**

Waking up once more in the white room I now recognize faintly, I rub my eyes but remain lying down. Breathing softly, I stare at the ceiling for minutes…maybe hours before I’m ready to get up and face whatever the mystery of Grayson Dolan is.

Looking to the nightstand, I find a glass of water with tiny bubbles of air pushing themselves at the edges of the glass signifying it’s been there for a while now. Besides the glass, there’s a pill with a note next to it and I sit up with a low groan as my head still hurts bad.

Aspirin. Drink it, put on the clothes laid out in the bathroom and come downstairs. If you want to shower, there’s warm water and clean towels as well.

Eyeing the note, I see no one’s signed it. Assuming it’s Ethan’s handwriting, I get up and make my way to the bathroom which is immaculate just as the room. It smells…clean.

I quickly take a shower, noticing some blood wash out of my hair in the process and I remember my head smashing into a concrete wall that night as well. It’s probably why my head’s so badly hurt and my senses barely work.

Towel drying my hair and body, I pick up the clothes with caution and examine them. A black shirt that acts as a dress on me, falling all the way down to my knees. A fresh pair of underwear that suspiciously looks like something I already own and knee high male socks. That’s what’s left for me and I have no choice but put them on for my own clothes are far too dirty to be worn again before washing.

The minute I walk out the room, I’m back in the hallway with a little more focus than the night before. The walls are painted into a sunrise and the words written go with the painting – House of the rising sun.

I could smell breakfast in the air, eggs and toast most likely from what I could tell. My stomach turned, crying for something of substance to be given for digestion as the mating song of whales sounded. Rubbing it gently, I walked downstairs, finding the kitchen on my far right.

Walking into the room made life stop as everyone turned to look at me, frozen in the moment and I’ve never felt so self-conscious before. It’s as if I’m standing naked on stage with every eye in the house focused on my every flaw. No make-up, no clothes that fit my body and no dimmed lights to hide anything. I’m just me and I’m painfully aware of that as my eyes find Grayson’s before averting my gaze to the floor.

Grayson, Ethan and two women sat at the table, all staring at me.

“Well come on in, we won’t bite.” The older woman beckoned me to come closer and take a seat, standing up to help me which I’m very grateful for considering I’m still unsure on my feet.

“Thank you.” I keep my eyes on the table, pursing my lips slightly as a plate is set before me.

“How are you feeling?” The other girl asks and I look up politely, faking a smile for social purposes.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck and then trapped in a nightmare.” My response makes the girl chuckle. She claps her hands together, leaning forward.

“I like you.” She lets me know and I furrow my brows, daring to look at Grayson who’s still unmoving and his eyes remain trained on me. He’s watching me carefully for any reaction, making me more nervous than before.

Unable to stop myself from hyper salivating at the food in front of me, I practically chowed down on the contents until there was barely a crumb left.

“Well, we should go back. The jet awaits.” The older woman stood, wiping her mouth with a napkin before planting a kiss on both brother’s foreheads and the younger one simply flipped them off and sent me a small wave.

I looked at the girls in slight panic, feeling much safer with them there.

“Don’t let my sons fool you, okay? They’re still very much little boys with golden hearts and pure souls.” The older woman pecks my cheek and I find myself gobsmacked with the realization that this was Grayson’s mother and I barely spoke to the woman. The other girl looked a lot like them, guessing it was their sister.

“I’ll walk you out, ma’” Ethan gently put his arm around his mother, guiding her out the room, the other girl already gone – leaving me alone with Grayson.

He clears his throat awkwardly, picking up the dishes and I help him silently.

“You should, uh, rest. I’ll do it.” Grayson takes the dishes from me, his fingers brushing mine and it’s like a bolt of electricity rushing from my fingers up my arms. Retracting them fast, I wrap my arms around myself, leaning on the counter while he cleans up.

“Your mother seems nice.” I state, unable to handle the silence. There’s too many unsaid things between us and I know he doesn’t technically owe me any answers, but I deserve to know what went down that night. I’m probably jobless, carless and soon to be homeless – all since I met him and we’re not even together.

“Much nicer than my sister.” He muses and I smile, happy I got that right.

“So, you…probably want to talk now?” I don’t miss the nervous tapping of his fingers against the counter nor the way he avoids looking at me now. Grayson isn’t the type to get nervous, but he sure as hell looked to be drowning in his nerves in this particular moment.

“Would be good to know why my life went up in flames.” I shrug, pressing my lips together and a breathless chuckle accompanied by a quick nod is my response.

“I want to be completely honest with you.” Grayson walks by me and I follow after without a word. He walks out the kitchen and toward the stairs, continuing.

“We’re about to go full dark, no stars and if you can’t handle some things, now would be a good time to tell me.” Grayson warns and I feel my heart fall, uncertain with the darkness he offers to show me. I’ve always been afraid of the dark, even more so of falling…in any way and I’ve found myself at a doorstep with both my fears on the other side – his dark side and my feelings for him that continue to grow even with everything I’ve learned about him so far.

We walk upstairs, back to the room I woke up in – the sheets already changed and the fresh smell circulating the room.

“Hope you found the bed comfortable. It’s been serving me well for years.” He glances over his shoulder, gauging my reaction and I find myself uneasy, but also excited over the fact. It’s his room. This entire room is a testament to his colorful personality – clean cut, but various shades of the good and the bad swirling inside him.

“Uh, yeah. Really comfy.” I proceed to plop on the fluff, watching him sit on a chair by his keyboard, turning fully to face me.

“Are you prepared to hear the ugly truth or should I sugarcoat everything?” He questions and I roll my eyes at him.

“Don’t lie to my anymore. I want to know everything.”

He nods approvingly, almost impressed by my assertiveness.

“Well, I’ll speak frankly. I’ve always believed that the ability to speak to someone without overthinking your words, to be at ease with someone so much that you trust them with your deepest darkest truths…that is the definition of true l – friendship.” He stops himself just in time, redefining whatever was at the top of his tongue and I nod, agreeing with him.

3rd Person POV

“My business runs much deeper than the world knows. It includes a lot of legitimate establishments, many outstanding businesses, but also some that aren’t as legal to say.” Oh how bewildered she looked, so doubtful and quizzical. So reluctant to facing the real facts although she knew one day she would face no choice, for she was trying so hard to stop the vicious, secular things her mind was already turning his truths into...She was only beginning to know him and already she was overwhelmed by all she knew. But she had to know all he is for all he is all she cares for, but to know him is to love him and so she felt herself shake with fear of falling for a man as magnificent, as dangerous as Grayson Dolan.

“I own illegal casinos, speak easy in every damn city you can name, gentlemen’s clubs – some legitimate and some for specific clientele, gun trading and internet companies, art thievery and many more…In my world I am known as the leader of The House of the rising sun and it’s a gang on a global scale.” His words rip through her like glass shards do to skin, but he can barely tell if she’s shaking because he’s started to tremble himself. It’s strange to feel so nervous around a girl he barely knew, but he did know her. He knew almost everything about her and there was no way of denying it.

He knew her mood just by her smile, noticing the stiffness of her cheeks when she fake smiled at demanding customers and the real one she beamed at him more often than not. He knew her favorite color is baby blue and favorite car brand is a Porsche. He knew of her family and her desire to leave the small town she was born in. He learned of her financial struggles and her desire to attend Columbia. He knew she chewed on her bottom lip when she’s nervous, just as she picks at her nails because her nail polish was always damaged at the sides. He knew she washed her hair every night because he could smell the lavender scent every time she leaned down to put his drinks on the table. He knew her lilac perfume was store brand and nothing fancy like the girls he’s used to usually have on, but he learned to enjoy the smell for it reminded him of her. There are a thousand things he knows about her that aren’t in any research his men did for him, simply by observing her every night for as long as he could without compromising himself. So yes, he cared for her and her opinion of him.

“And that man…Damien was the son of my biggest rival. The man was a snake and he broke major rules that night.” Grayson’s hand formed a fist, the memory of what he almost did to Y/N washing over him only ignite the fire that barely extinguished itself once he saw the fear in her beautiful eyes the night before.

“Was?” She asks cautiously. She trembles and shivers, then looks at him with pleading eyes. Hoping, just hoping not to hear the words that without doubt would reaffirm her initial fear of what truly happened that night.

“He’s no longer an issue.” Grayson replies, flexing his arms and the inked biceps grow under the pressure before deflating ever so slightly.

“How many people have you killed?” Y/N stands, her hand covering her mouth. So frantic of the deceitfulness of the forthcoming actuality.

“Too many to count…But I know why they’re dead. They threatened me and my family. My loved ones. No one can do that and live. Not while I’m around.” Grayson stood as well, noticing her hand fall and her bottom lip is trapped between her pearly whites, being tortured as she nibbles on it.

He wanted to do that badly, to bruise her lips as he bit it while her lips molded with his.

“You can’t just go around killing people! You let the law handle it!” She exclaimed, watching him shake his head vehemently.

“The only justice in this world is the one we make ourselves.” Deciding to table the discussion of morality for now, she shook her head and looked at him.

“So why did I become a target?” She put her hands on her hips, releasing the soft flesh of her bottom lip a shade darker, enticing Grayson to lick his lips.

“I’ve come to…care…for you.” He paused between each statement, searching for words that aren’t quite heavy and are easily taken back should need be.

“And now what?” Y/N tilts her head up, meeting his gaze in determination.

“You’ll be in danger for a while and I can’t in good consciousness let you go back to your old life. Staying here with me is the best way to go.” Grayson’s words make her scoff, but once he raises his eyebrows to her little huff and puff show she realizes he’s serious.

“I can’t drop everything just so you can babysit me!” Her voice goes higher than Grayson knew it could, pushing forth a dirty thought about him eliciting the same sound from her in bed.

“Grayson!” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, forcing him to look at her again.

“You either stay and let me deal with this issue or go home and get yourself killed. Your choice.” He turned to walk out the room, but her hand quickly clasped on his shoulder and he stopped, turning to her halfway.

“I’ll also go stir crazy if you force me to sit alone in this big old house with nothing to do.” She sighs, defeat written in every line of the pretty face he admired.

“You can help me organize my paperwork.” Grayson offered, reminding himself to mess the paperwork up for he always kept his records straight. But she didn’t have to know that.

The smile that spread on her lips assured him she’s on board, relaxing his heart for a while.

While she demanded a different room to stay in, despite his offer to share a bed, Grayson granted her a room right next to his. He wanted her close just in case something happened.

“How do you know we’re safe here?” She once asked him, making him chuckle.

“This is my city. Only a man with a death wish would dare step foot in this street, let alone my house.” And it calmed her for a while, but it didn’t make the possibility disappear from her worries.

Working with him whenever he’s home, Y/N learned a lot more about his alleged businesses. All of them proved to be lucrative, bringing in millions upon millions to his bank accounts. Several of them – most hidden in offshore locations for insurance. She also found him to be a generous donor to many children hospitals and cancer research centers, for homeless people and ASPCA. Even though she absolutely refused to admit it to herself, it made his room inside her heart grow.

She learned he likes his morning coffee black and anymore caffeine would drive his anxiety up to impossible levels which made her restrict his caffeine intake. She also learned he’s very quiet when work is involved, but also ruthless when necessary. She found him to be a little cold toward her, but the iceberg slowly melted over time – finding him staring at her whenever he thought she wouldn’t notice. But she did.

She did.

She found him to be lactose intolerant and both brothers refused to take any dairy products, which she loved teasing them about. Surprisingly, she learned he’s also got mild asthma and so many allergies she lost count of – starting with seasonal allergies down to animal allergies. Even with her love for all things furry, she didn’t mind a possibility of a life without them.

It dawned on her when she ended up running her fingers through his hair when she tried to wake him up in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep and just wanted to talk to him. Even more when he woke with a soft smile, tapping the spot beside him for her to take. He didn’t yell or complain of her being a nuisance, but allowed her to ramble about her most ridiculous fears about dark and falling in love or out of an airplane which she claimed to be the same thing.

“What are you afraid of?” She asked quietly, wanting to know what makes a man like him cower in fear and hide.

“Closed spaces.” He sighed, turning on his side to look at her profile – the cheeks, her nose, the way her eyes light up even in the dark.

“I’m not a man with many fears, Y/N.” He adds, seeing her nod with a smile.

“Guessed as much.” She puts a hand over her chest, subtly glancing at him.

“Why do you care so much about that Impala?” Grayson asks the tough questions and she turns to her side now as well, their faces so close their noses are inches apart.

“It’s uh…well. I spent four years of high school working odd jobs and collecting every nickel I earned to ensure I have something to use as a way to leave town. Four years and the only thing I could afford was that piece of junk that took me here. When I started my first year in NYU, I didn’t even have a job or a place to live. Impala was my home for months. I slept in the university parking lot, the night security noticing and taking pity by promising to watch over the car so I can get a decent night of sleep without worrying someone will break in and…It represents a big part of my life. All I’ve worked for, the shelter it provided…an adventure. All of it.” She admits, bearing her soul open for him to see and he had nothing short but admiration for the girl before him. She’s much stronger than he gave her credit for and he realized he can’t write her off as easily as he thought. She might be able to handle his lifestyle, him and all it brings.

Throwing his arm over her hip lazily, Grayson brought her closer to him, hearing her breath speed up at the proximity, but so did his.

He didn’t love her, he desired her most of all. He desired her gaze on him as desperately as the air he needs to breath. He desired her skin against his as the food he’d need to live. He desired her lips to speak his name in ecstasy more than the water as he thirsted for her more than anything else in this world.

And in his desire for her he had lost himself entirely. He had lost his cold exterior, becoming putty in her hands. He had lost his ruthlessness toward her, directing it to any and all who’d harm her. He had lost his resolve to stay away simply so he’d give into her with all he is.

So with that desire and the loss of him, he hated her for all of it. He hated her with burning passion. He hated her so much it consumed him.

Or so he told himself so. For in the end, he did nothing to push her away.

He couldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Logic demanded him to stop acting the way he is, but his entire logic went out the window the night he met her and that creep put his hands on her. He’s no longer a part of the living anymore either. She’s become his cornerstone and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, it didn’t change. It’s become factual.

“Gray.” She whispered in the haze his closeness brought him, making his lips spread widely.

“I’ve been waiting for two months to hear you call me that again.” Grayson’s not ashamed to admit to it, remembering his own pledge of honesty.

“I held off on it…it makes us too cozy for comfort. Blurs the lines a little.” Her hand presses forward into the bicep of the arm around her, her teeth capturing her bottom lip once more.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea what you do to me at all.” Grayson leans in, his nose brushing hers as all pretense falls. He no longer has the strength to stay away and she doesn’t want him to. It’s been seven months since they met and every moment since then has been filled with mutual desire and need to fulfill their fantasies.

Her hand moves to the side of his face, grazing the two day old stubble he grew simply because she dared him to. He’s never let his facial hair grow before, finding the look unkempt and dirty but the look he saw on her face as he grew the hair made it worth it. He knew it would come in handy eventually and he knew, even in the darkness of the room, that she bore the same look now.

Her heart races as she glances between his lips and his eyes, knowing what he’s thinking. She’s not exactly a virgin, but she’s barely experienced in sex and knowing he must have bedded girls who have not only experience but incredible looks had her doubting her own skill and retreating.

“Hey, hey. What did I do?” Grayson wondered, his voice unusually soft and understanding.

“I just…I’m not sure what’s happening right now.” She admits sheepishly, finding Grayson turn to his other side. Just when she thinks he’s angry and wants to leave her, he turns on the nightlight and comes back to her side with a genuine smile on his lips.

“I was moments away from indulging in my fantasy of feeling your lips against mine.” He responds so casually that Y/N coughs, nearly choking on her own spit.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?” He’s really not holding back, she thinks, shaking her head shyly, her lip finding its spot back between her teeth.

“How many times have you had sex before?” Grayson asks, her eyes widening and her hands covering her face before she turned on her back.

“I thought you were going to just kiss me!” Exclaiming, she giggled, finding it hard to maintain eye contact.

“You and I both know that neither of us would stop at a kiss, no matter how hard we try.” Grayson cocks his eyebrow, noticing one of her hands drop lower and make way for her to look at him with her left eye.

“Once and it was so bad, I barely felt anything but the moment I was no longer a virgin, okay?! I’m not experienced like you and I have no clue what to do, so stop looking at me all sexy like that and let me breathe man!” She dropped both her hands from her face during her little freak out before sitting up in frustration and he sat up, chuckling at her behavior.

“What’s so funny?!” She pushed his right shoulder lightly, annoyed with him. There she is, opening up like never before and he laughs at her.

“The fact that you think I’d judge you for that or the fact that you think you and I having sex would ever compare to the girls I had before. They were all a one night stand.” He laid down, perching himself up on his right elbow so his damn abs were visible in all their perfection and Y/N could barely contain herself.

“And I’d be what exactly?” She pushes for answers he looked ready to provide her with, her heart jumping nervously in her chest.

“Something I’d like to repeat over and over again. I wouldn’t oppose to call it…” He paused, licking his lips. “Dating.” He finished, looking at her wide eyes.

“You’re asking me to be with you? Like, exclusive?” She raised an eyebrow, shifting in her spot so she’s turned to him. Even without her make-up, she’s now accustomed to Grayson seeing her without it and still complimenting her puffy face in the morning when she’s stumbling in the kitchen with Ethan, unable to speak so early before having some breakfast first. It’s something in common she shared with his brother and Grayson found it both frustrating and endearing. And beautiful. He found her truly beautiful with and without make up.

“I guess so. But…I have to be honest with you.” He ran his left hand through his hair, moving it out of his face.

“I’ll never put anything or anyone before my work. That business is my number one priority. The men that work for me and their safety will be my number one priority. You can’t get in the way of that. Ever. Because I will choose The house of the rising sun over you every time.” The painfully honest confession had her frowning, but her desire for him eclipsed her thinking.

She assumed that the choice would never come and she could let herself get lost in Grayson without consequence.

“Okay.” She whispered, letting out a dash of air she held while he stated his terms.

Y/N sighs and leans up, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Grayson doesn’t move, letting her take the lead if that’s what she needs to feel comfortable. He’s actually still in shock she’s okay with what he had to offer her, which isn’t much.

It isn’t love, just fun and he hoped she understood that.

Grayson looks as she lays back down, her hair tied in a loose braid barely hanging on her left shoulder as gravity settles in. He brushes his nose against hers, using his fingers to tug at the hair clip that held her hair together. Slowly, he leans down, just centimeters above her face, unraveling her braid one strand at a time. It’s painfully slow, building up the moment and her chest rise and fall with a quicker pace as he takes his time in the sweet torture. His lips are ghosting over hers before he tilts his head and starts kissing down her jaw.

She hums, eyes closing with Grayson’s movements.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll.” He whispers as her hand reaches down his abdomen, lightly tracing the outlines of his abs. He moves his hand down, reaching for the hem of her shirt, urging her to tug it off.

Y/N sits up and tugs her shirt off, exposing her sports bra and Grayson sends her a smirk as she shyly groans.

“This is so unplanned, it’s not even funny.”

Grayson eyes her, but the smirk disappears as she pushes up and wraps her hands around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to hers. His hands go down to either side of her head as she lays back and pulls him down with her. The kiss deepens and she moans into Grayson’s mouth as he rolls his hips against hers, his hardened length pressing between her legs already. She’s felt more in this make out session than her entire first time experience and she couldn’t contain her excitement about going further with him.

Grayson detaches his lips from hers only to reattach them to the sensitive skin of her neck, learning quickly where she’s most sensitive to his gentle touch. Her eyes close as she tilts her head, giving him more access. He moves one of the straps of her bra aside, enough to start sucking a small mark close to her collarbone. A pleasure-filled sigh falls from her lips as her hand comes up to Grayson’s back, lightly pressing her nails into his skin. A low breath falls from Grayson’s mouth with the sensation, but he continues to leave the hickey, running his tongue over the spot once he’s done to soothe the skin. He wanted to mark her, for his satisfaction alone but judging by the sound she made, it was very much mutual pleasure.

She pushes up, pulling the bra off herself, wanting to move faster, growing impatient.

A smirk comes to Grayson’s face while he wraps his arms around her, bowing his head to press open mouth kisses around her collarbones and down her chest until he reaches her well rounded breasts that he found alluring for months in the dim light of the club she worked in and now he finally had full access, nothing holding him back. One of his hands comes from behind her and plays with one of her nipples, getting a moan for his effort, one of her hands going back to the bed to hold herself up while Grayson’s mouth starts working on the other nipple.

With her eyes closed as she begins to lose herself in the sensation his lips cause, her hips start to buck forward into Grayson’s on instinct.

She pulls Grayson’s head from her breast, bringing his lips to hers before pulling him down with her and pushing his shoulder for her to get on top. His hands instinctively go to her hips, digging his fingers into the soft tissue over the bone. He loves that she’s got some meat on her bones, giving him something to squeeze and hold onto while his mind goes haywire.

Y/N follows the same pattern Grayson did to her neck, satisfied once she’s left her mark on his skin. She kisses her way down his chest, slow enough that it’s becoming teasing. She’s not doing it on purpose, but Grayson’s shaking his head and biting his tongue in order to stop himself from groaning out loud.

Once she reached the hem of the briefs he sleeps in, she slips her thumbs into the waistband, pulling them off and moving to allow him to kick them all the way off while she strips herself of her own underwear before kissing up his thighs and to his hip, around his pelvis and back up his chest, this time intentionally avoiding his twitching length.

She wasn’t sure what to do exactly, only knowing what she read in erotic novels and she was fairly certain they don’t count as proper research for sexual acts.

“Gonna tease me like that all night, doll?” Grayson’s voice is raw with lust as her lips meet his, feeling her core hovering over his length with every nerve in his body.

“If you’re going to look at me like that, I just might.” A cocky smirk comes to her face as she pulls away to meet his stare.

“Fuck no.” Grayson growls, hands coming up to up her face, lips colliding with hers a little rougher than before and she can tell he’s aching for her.

“No more teasing, please.” He mutters against her lips, giving her confidence she’s been lacking. It’s the third time she’s ever heard Grayson Dolan pleading and all those times have been with her. If that doesn’t empower a woman, nothing does.

Without saying a word, Grayson reaches beside her and opens his nightstand drawer for a condom, feeling her smile against his lips. Her legs slightly giving out, she slides her folds against Grayson’s length, inadvertently teasing him while he opens the condom and puts it in place with a few beads of sweat collecting on his chest.

Once ready, Grayson turns them over, his head is against her collarbone, hers against the pillows. He lines his length up with her center, brushing his tip across her folds a few times before stopping entirely.

“You sure, doll?” Grayson wants nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her, but he needs to make sure she’s alright with the way things are going. Before this night they were barely anything concrete and now he’s sweaty and his heart is pounding at the sight of her ready for him and he can’t mess this up by not being absolutely certain she wanted him just as badly as he wants her.

“Gray, please.” With hooded eyes, she’s the one pleading, her hands holding onto his arms for dear life as he slowly pushes into her the very moment he gets reassurance. He feels her fingers dig into his shoulders just as his dig into her hips.

He doesn’t move, opting to rest his forehead against hers, feeling her breath fan his face. Grayson’s aware he’s bigger than most guys and this being only her second time, he mentally face palmed for not preparing her more. He’s just so eager he couldn’t contain himself, but he managed to enter without issue, slowly filling her up inch by inch until he bottomed out, remaining still to let her adjust to his size before grinding into her.

His thrusts are met by her own hips moving on instinct, grunts and moans filling the air and become louder as he increases his pace. He feels himself getting closer, her clenching around him letting him know she’s not too far behind. He can tell by the expression of pure bliss and lust on her face and the pitch of her moans growing just to the sound he wished to get her to make that she’s getting close, so he takes a hand from her hip and presses his thumb to her clit. She jerks forward, a higher moan escaping her throat. His thumb is relentless, keeping its pace until she’s clenching around him and yelling his name, his own grunts and moans coming to an end when his movement turns jerky and he all but collapses on top of her.

Her heart pounds as her sweaty chest meets his head, giving him a perfect way to hear just what he has done to her. He presses a couple of lazy kisses on her chest, resituating on her, planting his feet on the bed but he doesn’t move, not yet.

“Gray.” She whispers, bringing a smile to his lips. Knowing he just felt her first orgasm and that he’s responsible put him on cloud nine. He barely held it together, never ever being the type to fall into a girl and remain there as she scratched the back of his neck like he just did, allowing her to touch him after sex.

“You good, doll?” He asks, barely lifting his head off her chest.

Sex always seemed to be business for Grayson, getting the job done and hopping into the shower before returning to his bed with the girl leaving right after the deed.

Now?

He found himself torn between doing it again or falling asleep in her arms. Lucky for him, she decides for them.

Pushing him to the side, she’s turned the tables on him, reaching for a second condom out his drawer, wanting more.

“Very good.” She responds with a smile.

Y/N lifts herself up and grabs Grayson’s erection, smiling when she sees he’s already good to go. Sliding the condom easily onto him before lining her center up with his tip, she leans down to press a kiss on the left corner of his lips. At an agonizingly slow pace, she sinks down onto him, Grayson’s grip on her sides tightening while her nails go back to digging into the skin, but instead of his shoulders it’s his chest this time around.

Once Grayson’s cock fills her up fully, she takes a minute to adjust just as Grayson did the first time, trusting there’s a reason why he held off for so long. But Grayson is also adjusting to feeling her around him as his eyes take her in. Eyes going from hers, lingering on her breasts, and traveling down to where their lower halves connect, an involuntary groan coming from deep inside his throat at the sight before he looks back up to her. Once his eyes are back on hers, she sends him a lust-filled smirk before she starts moving. Riding him, slowly at first and speeding up as his grip starts to tighten on her hips and her own need grows dire.

Grayson’s name starts sputtering from her lips, hitched breathing in between as her head is thrown back, hair dangling down her back. She starts clenching around Grayson so fast and he takes his chance to move his thumb to her clit once more to help push her over the edge. She jerks at his touch, moaning loudly in ecstasy, louder than before.

“Gray.” She breaths out, gasping for air.

“C'mon, doll.” Grayson pants, the rubbing of his thumb never stopping.

In only seconds, she’s moaning his name, her orgasm hitting hard as she falls onto Grayson’s chest. Grayson’s feet push into the mattress as he pounds into her, chasing his high as he helps her ride out hers. She starts coming down, whispering soft praises into his neck, kissing and biting, sucking on the glistening skin in hopes of successfully leaving a second mark. The whispered praises and assault on his neck are enough to throw him over the edge.

Grayson’s movements come to a halt, his breathing heavy in her ear. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, trailing kisses from her neck to her cheek. An unusually intimate move on his behalf, but she giggles in response, turning her head to look at him before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

She moves aside, letting him dispose of the used condoms, worn out to move on her own. She can feel all her bones drifted apart to let him in fully, but a blissful smile remains on her face when he comes back, still sweaty and hungry for her. But he can tell she’s already tired, the night turning into so much more than she anticipated and he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Not this night.

Laying back beside her, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her right ear before resting his head in the crook of her neck.

“G’dnigt, doll.”

While she slept on his chest, he traced her skin with his fingertips. Grayson knew he’s in over his head and still did nothing to stop it.

**

She always expected sex with Grayson would be rough, something out of her comfort zone. Instead, she got intimacy, genuine lust filled kisses and gentle touches, and craving for one another until there’s no more left to give. She got what she dreamed her first time to be. And in a way it was…it was her first orgasm. And she was happy it was with him.

She could no longer deny that she had fallen for him, but she was damn certain she’d never tell him so.

However, upon opening her eyes, she’s saddened to find the spot beside her empty and she’s all lone in that big bed of his. She half expected him to bring her breakfast in bed or to find him nuzzled in her neck, reminding her that Grayson isn’t the type of guy she usually dates. He’s a gang leader and the tenderness of their night together was surprise on its own, the morning after would have been completely out of character for him.

Sitting up with her head against the headboard, she sighs, pulling her knees closer to her chest. The sheets are wrinkled, out of sorts in every way imaginable. Assuming she looks the same, Y/N smiled to herself and the giddy feeling in her chest grew as she recounted the night before.

“Morning, doll.” Grayson’s voice interrupts her daydreaming, her head turning to him on instinct.

“You’re here?” She states, but it sounds more as a question only confusing him. Why would she expect him to be anywhere else after the night they had?

She took a closer look at him, dressed in a suit – all class and little to no signs of him being anything but the business man she thought him to be. His hair is combed to the side and back, giving him a wind-messed-up-my-hair-but-I-still-look-good kind of a look. Sunrays light up his face, giving his eyes a hazel swirl in a brown orbit, one she deemed magical and not at all earthly. His scruff is now shaved, leaving his skin untouched and he immediately looks five years younger than he is. His lips, the very lips she could still feel against her skin, they spread into a shit eating grin, making her roll her eyes.

While he took a moment to appreciate her disheveled look, he could tell she was scanning him as well. He noted the messy bed hair, finding it looks like a dead raccoon and it still made his heart do a flip. Her eyes are dark, entranced by him, but her lips are parted and wet, letting him know she recently licked the rosy softness he wanted to taste again. Barely covered, a couple of bruises and marks were more than visible under the morning light, giving him a sense of satisfaction for it shows she’s his and his alone now. It reminds him how he watched the marks she left on his neck nearly ten minutes ago, buttoning his shirt all the way to the top to hide them from the world. He’s supposed to be the most eligible bachelor in New York and such marks would surely make people talk.

“You’re staring.” Grayson teases, resting his bawled up hands on the bed, leaning forward to capture her lips in a quick kiss to satisfy his need for her touch.

“And you’re leaving.” She points out, a flash of hurt behind her Y/E/C eyes.

“Gotta attend a meeting and then handle some stuff with E. I’ll be back tonight, doll. You should sleep. Still early for you to be up.” Grayson tilts his head right, placing a kiss on her right cheek before standing up and shooting her a wink.

“Stay safe.” Her words follow him outside, making his chest unnaturally warm with glee he’s unused to feeling. She made him feel things he long forgot were possible to experience as a man of his standing, and it felt good. Really good.

While Grayson attended to his business, Y/N wandered his house in thought. She had long switched to online classes when this whole thing began, but she genuinely missed going to lectures and joking with Carmen at the club. She felt a little alone in the big house because when Grayson and Ethan are gone, she’s left to her own devices. Only a maid or two would cross her path, avoiding chitchat like the plague.

It started feeling like she’s his pet – a dog that mopes around until the owner returns, wagging its tail happily. She hated that comparison, but that’s exactly how her heart would feel when she heard the door open and his face soon came to view.

She tried doing some paperwork, cooking, even completed her assignments for the next week, the very last ones before graduation comes. A part of her knew she’d never get to go, but she hoped Grayson might make an exception and let her see the world once more. Surely the men forgot about her by now.

Something in her heart told her that won’t be an option. There was something inside her that wouldn’t rest, forcing her to busy herself as much as she did. It’s as if something isn’t right in the world and she picked up on it without being aware of it.

But when the knob turned and she whipped around to see who’s at the door, she never expected her gut feeling to be right.

At least a dozen men rushed inside, all of them shouting and none of them with their hands clean. Her eyes widened, searching for the one her heart’s tail wagged for, finding him at the very end of the unknown crowd. His left arm thrown over Ethan’s shoulder, his right hand clutching to his side, his face pale and his mouth set in a firm line, barely standing at all – that’s the image she found waiting for her.

“GRAYSON!” She rushed toward him, her chair falling back from her abrupt movements.

Y/N pushed her way through the men, wrapping her arms around his torso, helping Ethan keep him on his feet.

Feeling a liquid before seeing it, Y/N already knew he’s injured.

“What the fuck happened?!” Her demanding voice stopped the men from speaking, none of them daring to speak but Ethan.

“He got stabbed.” Ethan fills her in, speaking through gritted teeth at the same time as Grayson turns his head toward Y/N, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay, doll.” His voice is weak, but still so sure that it makes her shake her head vehemently, shaking with him in her arms.

“Stabbed! You got yourself stabbed!” The panic in her voice is palpable, her hand covering his wound on instinct.

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” Grayson chuckles, hissing when his men approach and push Y/N from his side in order to take him upstairs.

“The doc is on his way.” Another one announces, the men gathering around their boss and picking him up before making their way toward the bedroom.

“Ethan, how did this happen?” She turns to his brother who seems more pissed off than scared. She quickly rinses off the blood, not looking at it to stop herself from throwing up.

“The idiot killed someone important against my advice and now he’s paying the price.” Ethan ran a hand through his hair, still matted to his forehead from sweat.

“Who did he kill?” Y/N sits down, feeling her shaky legs could give out any moment now. This isn’t what she signed up for – not knowing if he’ll make it back to her at the end of the day or not. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. She’s still struggling to accept that part of him, unable to connect the dots between the person she’s seen behind the painted veil and the one he is whenever she’s not with him.

She can’t differentiate which Grayson is the real Grayson.

“Damien.” Ethan replies simply, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and taking a chug without grimacing at all. He must be used to the burn, she concludes.

“So, this is my fault.” She drops her gaze, feeling a river of tears coming in and no matter how badly she wanted to stop it, the dam broke and the waterfalls became unstoppable.

“It’s his. He could have roughed him up or something, but he sees red when you’re involved.” Ethan leaned against the counter, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her and hopefully stop her from crying.

“He even made us let him walk in here on his own two feet, saying you’ll freak out if we carry him inside.” Ethan continues, making a small smile appear on her lips as she wiped the tears with the back of her hand.

“How am I supposed to do this?” She looked up, teary eyed and searched for answers in those brown eyes with hazel swirls that Ethan mirrored. She never thought she’d be a real life Betty Cooper who fell for Jughead Jones instead of a guy like Archie Andrews.

“Decide if it’s worth it. If you love him more than anything in this world – more than school, your friends, your own life…it’s worth it. If not, then walk away. It might be hard after last night –“ Ethan pauses, grimacing at the memory and Y/N blushes, realizing he must have heard them because neither of them tried to control their sounds.

“Will he be okay?” She licks her lips, the salty taste of tears not lost on her as she tries to clear her vision enough to properly see Grayson’s older brother.

“Yeah. Probably just stitches and a couple of weeks in bed. Hopefully you can keep him in there, because that stubborn ass will try and get back out there way too soon.” Ethan chuckles, both of them turning to the door once it opens and a man walks in. The man greets Ethan with a curt nod, moving past them and up the stairs.

“The doctor.” Ethan states, taking a hold of Y/N’s hand.

“And we’ll be watching something until it’s all done.” He pulls her with him, despite her resistance.

“But, I want to be there.” She whines, making him smile to himself. He knew she already made her decision, even if she didn’t.

“When the doc is done, we’ll see him. Until then, be prepared for days of heavy security around the house. When a leader of a gang is attacked, everyone’s on high alert.”

Hearing footsteps from all around, Y/N settled in Ethan’s side for the night. She watched the cartoon he put on without even knowing what’s happening on the screen, her mind with Grayson and the last words she said to him in the morning.

She urged him to stay safe, unaware just how badly he needed to hear that.

It’s like going through the motions, unable to focus on more than one task at a time and her brain opted on focusing on Grayson and what he went through for her sake. He killed for her, hurt people for her…Is that his idea of commitment? Is killing in someone’s name a way to say I love you in his world?

She shuddered with the thought, feeling a light tap on her left shoulder.

“C’mon. The doctor wants to talk to us.” Ethan’s face is softer than before, reassuring and understanding. He knows this is all too much for Y/N, but he appreciates how hard she’s working to pull it together. She’s in a state of shock of some sorts, but he knew seeing Grayson would make her feel better.

“He’s got a deep wound in his side, thankfully mostly muscle injury. Whoever did this was clearly derailed by him and missed all vital organs. He’s lost blood, but I put one bag up and he’s already looking better. Stitches come off in two weeks’ time, no strenuous activity until then. Make him rest up, take his antibiotics and painkillers on time and that’s all. Anything happens, take him to my clinic.”

Y/N nods faintly, her eyes darting over the doctor’s shoulder to take a peek at Grayson, unsuccessfully. She already knew the basics, she’s a damn pre-med for God’s sake. She just wanted to see her man.

“Can I see him now?” She interrupts, impatient and already moving aside to get into the room.

A couple of men are stationed inside, eyeing Y/N suspiciously until Ethan steps inside.

“Leave. He’s safe with us. You know your stations.” With that, the room empties, leaving the three alone in silence.

Y/N shuffles closer to Grayson, seeing he’s laid in the middle of the bed with his eyes closed shut and his mouth is no longer gaping with painful grunts leaving them. His hair sticks to his forehead, his middle wrapped in a bandage, a drip still going to get him some fluids. He looked frail, unlike anything she knew him be. It’s the last word in the dictionary she’d ever use to describe him.

Careful, she sits on the bed by his side, her shaky fingers dipping into his open hand.

“He’s probably hopped up on painkillers.” Ethan sighs, sitting on the bed as well.

“Probably be out till tomorrow.” He adds, helping Y/N breathe properly again. She didn’t like the silence, reminding her only the dead are silent. But she could see Grayson’s chest move, the light up and down that followed his every breath and every heartbeat. It’s all she can focus on.

“I don’t want to leave him.” Her small voice surprises Ethan, but he nods regardless. He didn’t expect anything else.

“I’ll be right across the hall, as usual.” He walked around the bed, pressing a kiss to her temple before walking out, leaving her alone with his brother. They needed to be together, he understood perfectly. Whether they knew it or not, there was no doubt in his mind he’d be calling her his sister one day.

Y/N laid on her side, her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. She fell asleep to the even rhythm of his breathing, her mind finally calm.

“Good morning, doll.” She hears him whisper, his voice hoarse and her eyes snap open at the sound.

“You’re awake!” She sits up, her heart pounding, her hands moving from his to inspect him properly, but not daring actually touch him.

“Sorry. Had a totally different plan on getting you into my bed last night, but this seemed like the only foolproof plan.” Grayson snickers, groaning right after as his hand shoots up to his wound.

“You’re an idiot.” She sighs, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Now you’re stuck in this bed for a couple of weeks and you’ve shortened my lifespan for at least ten years.” She accuses, pressing a second kiss on him. She couldn’t resist, needing the feel of his lips against hers.

“At least we can have some fun.” He raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile on his lips that falls when she shakes her head.

“No strenuous activities. Doctor’s orders.” She informs him, pursing her lips and it’s taking everything inside him not to flip them over and claim them as his.

“I’m going to fire that man.” He slaps a hand over his face, dragging it down in disbelief.

“And I’m going to get you some food. And Ethan to help you handle the morning pee situation.” She shrugs off the blankets, getting up as his hand wraps around her right wrist.

“I’d enjoy someone else taking care of my morning wood situation much more.” He kinks his eyebrow, a cocky smile on his lips. She rolls her eyes at him, tugging her wrist back into her own possession.

“That counts as strenuous activity.” She gives him a small wink in return and blows a kiss his way.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Maybe you’ll be more careful about getting stabbed next time.” She giggles, leaving the room as he shouts after her.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

Once she returned with his pills in hand, she felt as if she’s caring for a child.

“I don’t wanna.” He whined, closing his mouth shut right after. He barely had anything to eat and now she struggled with talking him into taking his medicine.

“How about we make a deal? Take these and I’ll reward you with a kiss?” She offered, making him smirk. He quickly lifted his head, pressing a small kiss to the left corner of her lips.

“I think I like my rewards in advance.”

Finally, he took his pills, only to plaster a second kiss to her bottom lip.

“And after.”

**

Y/N’s POV

Having him in bed truly helped me get to know him better. Grayson always seemed like a mystery to me, but now I had him right where I wanted him – trapped with me and after repeating the same questions at him for hours, he’d end up answering just to make me shut up.

A little tired, I laid my head on a pillow next to him, absentmindedly tracing the blue-green ink on his tattooed arms. I knew what each tattoo on the rest of his body meant, but these remained a puzzle.

“They’re waves.” He speaks, making me flinch at the sudden pierce of the silent veil that befell us.

“Waves?” I question, waiting for him to expand on his initial statement.

“Yeah. Everything in life comes and goes in waves. The good…the bad…it’s all perfectly balanced in one way or another. It always reminds me that it’s just a normal part of life, adding a new wave whenever something big happens. Blue for bad and green for good.” His answer leaves me deep in thought, but he puts a finger on my chin, lifting it gently to press a butterfly kiss on my nose.

His finger then travels down to his arm, pointing at a large green wave on his right forearm.

“This is the last one I got, about ten months ago.” I look up, lips parted and my heart stops for a moment.

Could it be?

“The same night I left a bar where a particularly beautiful and sassy woman reminded me I still have a heart.”

Not holding back, I quickly press my lips against his, moving my body atop his. Straddling him, the kiss breaks as he grunts and chuckles in pain and I realize I’ve accidentally pressed into his wound with my knee.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I put a hand over my mouth, shaking my head as I try to figure out what the hell I was thinking. Maneuvering to move off him, he groans once more when my foot grazes the wound unintentionally.

“Oh, you evil woman!” He chuckles, still holding onto his side.

“You’ve made me horny and hurt me at the same time!”

All in all, I liked spending this time with him. It sucks he had to be injured in order for us to have heart to heart conversations every other day, but most of the time we spent together was simply enjoying each other’s company and discovering new traits we were unaware of.

He’s not cold like I used to believe. He’s not a bad guy or someone who inspires fear. He’s not even intimidating. I’ve come to see a heart of gold he’s been hiding for a long time. I’ve learned he’s goofy and spews lame jokes that make me laugh regardless how bad the punchline is. His feet are extremely ticklish and he gets chills whenever my lips come anywhere near his ears. He’s very creative and smart and he plays the keyboard so beautifully, that I’m in awe of this man. Every part of him is an adventure and I couldn’t get enough of him.

So, how did this man ever become a leader of a gang who kills mercilessly?

I get the sense that he’s become torn between being a good man and missing out on all the opportunities life could offer a man as magnificent as him. And I understand that. I do. I just wish I knew a way to get him out of it all. I’d give up everything and move on a deserted island if that’s what it took.

Because I…

I love him.

“Your mother said you have a heart of gold and a pure soul.” I smile, tracing circles on his chest in boredom. I liked being lazy with him, but I was slowly getting crazy from being cooped up with him and I’m sure so did he. The only true contact besides kissing we had was when he snuck up to me and slapped my ass, which became his favorite thing to do.

“My mother always sees the best in me. She’s partial. You should ask my sister Cameron. Bet she’d have an opinion!” He exclaims, making me smile. His lips press against my forehead and I sigh in content.

“She and Cameron moved to Europe when my dad died and well, I can’t blame them. It’s much safer for them. I wish you could see that too.” The heaviness in his voice makes me look up, furrowing my eyebrows. He’s staring down at me, a frown etched onto his beautiful face only highlighting a faint scar between his eyebrows. A scar his sister gave him as a kid despite my initial theory of it being a gang related injury.

“What are you talking about?” I ask sharply, not liking what he’s hinting at.

“I mean you’d be smart to get out of here. Leave and never look back. I’m not good for you.” His voice is even and calm, like he’s not talking about destroying us and the prospects of our future. Does he even want a future with me?

“I can decide what’s good for me just fine on my own.” I push myself up, sitting with my head turned away from him. In my mind, I’m aware he’s right. When does a story like ours ever end with a happily ever after? But another part of me ached at the possibility of never seeing him again. I don’t think I can leave him. Ever.

He’s ingrained in my very being at this point. I am consumed by him.

“Don’t be mad at me, doll. I’m just telling you the truth. I promised you that much.” His fingertips brush my spine, gently following the curvature down.

“Every voice in my head screams don’t…ever since we met. But I can’t deny my heart and run when I know I’m meant to be right where I am.” I sigh, turning to him.

“I know you feel differently, but I can’t help it. I’m in love with you Grayson Bailey Dolan and I can’t walk away from you.” I notice him stiffen with my professions, but I’m returning the favor of being honest. I can’t keep lying to myself nor him.

“People don’t write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. The great loves are the crazy ones. The kinds that are epic always take a toll on people and maybe that’s not us, but I want to find out. I have to or else I’ll go mad wondering what could have been if I had been just a little braver.” His eyes bore into mine, taking in all that I’ve said and I can tell it’s something unexpected for him, something he’s not used to. But he’s not running from me, is he?

I’m ignoring the fact he’s hurt and he can’t, but still.

“Don’t ever think you’re not brave. You’re the bravest woman I know. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here with me.” Grayson takes my hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing the palm of my hand before burying his face in it.

“Now, let’s sleep.” He pulled me into him, his arms around me and his chin atop my head.

“Goodnight.”

And that’s when I knew he isn’t the type that says those eight words, but shows them. This was his way of saying I love you.

**

It took us three weeks to get Grayson back into shape, walking was the only thing he could do, but I was proud nonetheless.

I had to explain to him why the no sex rule is so important time and time again, but once the doctor cleared him, we were back in that bed just as much if not more than before. I didn’t complain because his skill set is off the charts and getting lost in him is exactly what I needed to forget about missing my own graduation. Despite initial shyness, we’ve come to experiment and I’ve found he’s kinky, but I’m kinkier. He’s also discovered the back of my knees are sensitive and he used that to his advantage as well.

Grayson is insatiable, mind numbing and most importantly – mine. Has been for months.

“You graduated?!” He woke me up abruptly, damn near giving me a heart attack in the process.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine!” I grumble, rubbing the sleep out my eyes and squinting at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He softened, plopping on the bed and spreading out so his head fell on my lap and he got a pretty good look of my under chin as I yawned.

“Didn’t think it mattered. You wouldn’t let me go and you were shot. Plus, I still need to get into Columbia med school for it to mean anything.” I run my fingers through his unusually messy hair lazily, seeing his frown deepen.

“How would you like to go out with me tonight?” He barely got the question out before I jumped out and nearly took his head off in the process.

“Yes! Where?!” I clap my hands in excitement, pressing my clasped hands to my nose and lips.

“A place very special to me. I’ll have my team come and glam you up.”

And he did. While he stayed for the first part where it was spa treatment more than anything and joined me for it with Ethan to my utmost surprise, he had left the second they did any real work.

With a very sophisticated red dress with open back and a princess style hairdo, make-up that accentuated my features and lots of expensive jewelry he apparently insisted I wear, I was prepared to go on our first official date and actually see a place that wasn’t this house. The only outside I saw was his property and although it’s big and very pretty, it gets boring after a time. And six months is a long time!

Grayson waited for me outside, his eyes widening once he saw me, freezing in his spot. I avert my eyes shyly, pressing my lips together. If I were to look up my eyes will lock in sinful magnetism with his. Speaking to me, telling me things, suggesting things....he had simple eyes, nothing extraordinary to the naked eye, just the fact that they were so expressive...so honest...wrongly speaking out what his heart was trying to hide...love.

Finally looking up, I see he’s still frozen in his spot.

“Oh my God, at least act like you haven’t spent half a year seeing me without make up and in your old clothes.” I shake my head at him, watching a wide smile take hold of his handsome face.

“You’re always gorgeous doll, but tonight you’re a goddess.” He takes my right hand in his left, using his right one to cup my face and connect our lips for a moment.

Once I open my eyes, I feel my heart jump at the sight.

Behind Grayson is my Impala, completely restored and functioning.

“You fixed my car.” I say quietly, breathless. I could barely form any words before I threw my arms around him and pressed a kiss under his ear. It’s the most precious gift he could have given me.

Grayson took us to an undisclosed location, leaving my Impala for the night because I had no clue where we were going.

Finally stopping at a hotel, I look at him puzzled and he just chuckles.

“You’ll see.”

Arms hooked together, we walk inside and I soon realize this is one of his hotels. The people around seem frightened of him, looking like the devil himself just walked in. But I also see respect behind that fear, meaning he treats them well.

“Is everything in place, Rinaldo?” He asks the concierge and with a confirmation, we move back and leave the hotel.

I gasp, seeing the beautiful garden with fairy lights and flowers of all kinds, roses at each side of the path leading to a table with candles and a killer view of the city. Grayson takes a red rose from the nearest bush, already clipped and I know he’s planned all of this to the last detail.

“A rose for a rose.” His cheesy line makes me smile, bringing the flower to my nose. Inhaling the scent, I close my eyes and let a faint ‘mhm’ escape my lips, walking with my eyes closed to take in all the smells because I trust Grayson not to let me fall.

We take a seat, Grayson being a gentlemen and pulling out my chair and helping me.

“This is incredible, Gray. Thank you so much.” I place a hand over my chest, a little overwhelmed with all the love I could feel from him this evening. He still hasn’t said it, but I know he feels it. I know he does.

“Anything for my girl.”

Melting at the sound of that, we spent the night eating and joking around, drowning in his compliments.

“So why is this a private area? Why not let your guests in?” I question, wiping my mouth as I set down my spoon.

“It’s something too heavy for tonight, doll. I want you to enjoy yourself.” He derails my question, but I shake my head and place my hand over his.

“Nothing you say to me would make this night any less magical.” He stops, looking at me for a minute in silence, deciding to let me in.

“It’s my place…the place I find shelter when everything goes to shit. It’s uh…a garden my dad started for my mother. He never finished it and I couldn’t leave it like that. He always said it’s a symbol of his love for our family. It’s also where he took his last breath and where we scattered the ashes. I was surprised to see he named me his successor over Ethan, but apparently Ethan told him he didn’t want to lead and Cameron absolutely refused to be a part of this life. It’s my place and now…I want you to know it’s yours too. I’ll let Rinaldo know he can let you in whenever you need to hide from the world and think – to find yourself.”

I stood up, gently tugging at his sleeve to do the same and he didn’t waste time in standing in front of me, letting me wrap my arms around his neck loosely.

“Take me home.” I say sweetly, the longing in my voice taking him by surprise, but he smiles back despite the pain this conversation brought him. He’s never talked about his dad before and this…this is the last brick of a very tall wall I’ve spent a year demolishing. He’s finally let me in entirely, no stone left unturned.

We barely got into the house before the kissing started, the tension growing on our drive back and we needed the release desperately so.

“We need to let Ethan know.” I whisper against his lips and kiss him again.

“Already texted him and my men. We’re alone in the house for the night.” He responds, picking me up and carrying me upstairs as my legs wrapped around his waist.

He looks at me, pulls me flush against his chest, lips on mine in seconds. My back arches and my hands come up to his face, eyes closing as I melt into his touch and it feels like home.

It’s a kiss, but it’s deeper than normal and it’s got both of our hearts thumping a mile a minute.

He pulls back, giving me a look and I have to remind myself to breathe. His eyes are gentle, still darker with lust but not hungry or needy. There’s no grin, just a sweet corner smile. His entire expression is soft and almost innocent, a stark contrast to the image he’s spent his entire life building.

“So beautiful.” He mumbles under his breath, but I catch the words with ease.

He sits back on the bed, letting me nestle in his lap. Gently dragging my knuckles down his right cheek, Grayson closes his eyes and sighs in relief. He’s a picture of perfection.

The moment ends and he opens his eyes, his lips kissing at my jaw. Surges of electricity jolt through my body as his lips trail to my neck and he nips at the skin before latching down. He sucks a bright purple mark to my skin, a symbol that in this moment, I am his and he is mine.

I trail my lips down to his neck, gaining a groan before I leave a mark of my own, a mark that just screams my name. Pushing Grayson’s shoulder, moving him flat on his back as I properly straddle him, our lips not disconnecting for a single second. My breathing is already ragged and strangled but I’m not focused on breathing. I am utterly lost in the moment of lust, something I’ve become very accustomed to.

Grayson’s hands slide under my dress, pulling it up and his hands are so warm, fitting to my sides like a perfect puzzle piece sliding into place. And his hands quickly move with a purpose, unzipping my dress, letting it fall over my shoulders before pulling it off and leaving me only in my underwear, nearly naked in his wake.

His hands trail up to my breasts, taking them in his hands and squeezing them over my bra until I finally disconnect our lips and sit up. Grayson gains that usual smirk he always gets and it sends another rush of heat through my body, head to toe. I match his smirk with a wink before reaching behind my back and unclasping my bra.

“Hey, not fair! I wanted to do that!” Grayson complained, making me chuckle.

“Better move faster next time.” I smile, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, exposing his abs in all their glory. I help him shrug it off and before I can go back to my position, Grayson’s arm is wrapping around me and flipping me back over so he’s on top. I laugh and Grayson follows too, his head dipping into my neck before his eyes meet mine.

3rd Person POV

The laughing subsides and this feeling washes over him. Y/N? She’s incredible. She’s everything he cares about. The best moment of his life is the day she came into his bed that night and kissed him for the first time, trusting him to go the distance. But there’s something with the way her eyes meet his in the low light of their bedroom. There’s a new feeling here, one Grayson hasn’t felt before, one he wasn’t even sure actually existed. And it scares him so he breaks eye contact and connects his lips back to hers before sliding a hand between the two of them and sliding his hand into her underpants.

She moans as his fingers slide her underwear aside and start sliding through her folds, collecting her wetness. Her eyes shut while her hand reaches for the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her as humanly possible. She moves her lips from his, kissing his cheek before she gets to his ear.

“Condom.” She whispers, voice completely drenched in lust and Grayson moves in seconds, reaching to his nightstand for a condom while she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. He’s glad she reminded him of protection, because in that moment all he could focus was getting lost in her and his mind wouldn’t even think of anything other than the way her lips part whenever he hits the right spots.

Grayson follows her lead and slides the condom on once his clothes have been tossed to the floor. He lines himself up with her core and he watches himself slowly disappear into her heat. He groans into her chest once he bottoms out, her jaw hanging slightly ajar with the full feeling and he gets to see the picture perfect face he finds as his greatest reward.

She runs a hand through his hair and Grayson picks his head up, eyes meeting hers and he’s scared at the flutter his heart does. He’s terrified of the way he gets goosebumps and the way he wants to kiss her like he’s never done before. For the first time, he’s scared of her, but he doesn’t let it show. He just stares back at her with heavy breaths and she pushes loose strands of curls back because she’s scared too, but in a different way.

She’s terrified of losing him for he made her happier than she’s ever been. In the last year he’s made her feel everything and she didn’t want that to be taken from her. Ever.

His lips are moving against hers, deepening every kiss and she’s letting herself melt into him and it’s so worth it. Every tear and ache of their hearts, it’s worth it.

His eyes are dark brown, darker than normal with lust and happiness and it’s got a way of making her stomach and heart just want to explode from the love she feels for him. Her skin tingles and a smile comes to her face, Grayson matching the same expression before kissing her lips sweetly and thrusting into her.

Y/N’s mouth hangs open as a gasp comes from her mouth, fingers digging into Grayson’s shoulders. Grayson kisses her cheek before moving back to her forehead, keeping his thrusts deliberate and steady, not focusing on getting off but just being in the moment with her. His hands reach for hers, interlocking their fingers and his thrusts increase.

Sheer layers of sweat soon cover their bodies and their hearts are racing with Grayson’s ever-growing sloppy thrusts as he starts to approach his high and she can feel she’s not far from her own and this is so much better than any other time the two had sex in the past.

They’ve been having sex for months now and every time it’s fun, exciting, good, it’s always been good but there’s something different about this sex. The sex that’s just the two of them, giggling when they knock teeth or quick pecks the other expects to be long and deep. It feels like there’s actually something passionate, a deeper connection there because there is.

Grayson’s hips rut against hers as they both moan out each other’s names, toes curling and nails digging each other’s hands as their highs hit. Gasps consume the room as she comes down and then there’s some quiet laughter from the two of them instead, Grayson kissing the very tip of her nose and her scrunching it in response.

Grayson rolls off her, walking into the bathroom to dispose of the used condom and clean himself, coming back with a wet towel to clean her off as well.

It’s become a routine for them, the aftercare always just as good as the sex. It’s intoxicating and liberating at the same time, being so open with each other and real about who they are.

So, with her head on his chest as he twirls loose curls of her hair, Grayson decides to speak one last truth of his own.

“I have a confession to make.” He kissed her forehead as she looks up at him, still feeling her heart beating wildly as is his under the palm of her hand.

“The Impala was ready even when you were still working at the bar. I was just scared you’d take it and we’d have no reason to be in contact anymore. I kind of needed those drive backs with you.” He pecked her nose and she gawked at him.

“You evil man.” She teases, slapping his chest playfully, using his own words against him and smiles.

“If you gave me my car back, I would have found a reason to spend time with you anyway. Been in love with you for a long time now, Gray.” With her reassuring words, the couple drifted off to sleep, completely unaware of what the future holds.

**

Y/N’s POV

A loud bang wakes me up, making me sit up in distress with a hand over my chest.

I look to Grayson in fright, finding he’s no longer by my side. Tapping the floor in the dark and finding only my underwear and Grayson’s shirt, I quickly put them on and peak through the door that’s left ajar. That loud sound didn’t sound like things breaking, it reminded me of the gunshot I last heard when Grayson killed Damien.

The fear is a weight on my ribs and a dull ache in my eyes, an unwillingness for my mouth to lift past neutral.

My heart isn’t resting tonight as it jumps to a speed of a professional racer, feeling my entire body tremble with the unknown danger lurking in the house.

I tiptoe to the stairwell, slowly descending once I notice Clevus, one of the guards is at the bottom of the stairs, eyes unmoving and blood pooling around him.

Covering my mouth to stop a whimper from escaping me, I feel the tears running forth and I stumble back to return to the room only to slip and fall. The blow in my lower back isn’t as bad as the fear that cages me when a man appears beside Clevus, a sinister smile on his lips as he starts to move toward me like a lion and I’m forced to get back up and run like his prey.

I run into our bedroom and into Grayson’s closet, wondering where he is…If Grayson is here at all.

I remember him saying something about keeping a gun somewhere in his room back when I first started living here, but I can’t remember where. I never wanted to know because I didn’t think I’ll need it.

I hear the door slam open, knowing I have barely a moment before they get to me, rummaging through draws of his ties and watches but to no avail. I push apart his suits, wondering how many suits can a man own before he stops getting new ones, but he has so many it makes me want to scream in frustration.

I can't breathe, feeling as if someone is choking me. My heart is racing and all I want to do is curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save me. But no one will, no one is here. A choked cry for help forced itself up my throat, and I feel a drop run down my cheek. I hadn't volunteered for this, I'm not one of those brave people who relish in danger and crave leadership. But I did, didn’t I? I chose to stay…to love a man like Grayson Dolan.

“Hello.” I hear the low chuckle behind me, freezing in my spot as terror overtakes me. Adrenaline floods my system. It pumps and beats like it’s trying to escape. I think my heart will explode and my eyes are wide with fear. The soulless came for a soul, the very thing they could never regain. They came to take innocence and feel the evil joy as they sunk into the filth of indifference.

I’m just grateful Grayson isn’t here to meet the same fate I’m expecting.

He grabs my arms and pulls me to him, caging me in as I trash against him. I kick and scream, pull and pinch, fighting with every fiber of my being. My arms get loose, allowing me to grab at the door, than at the stairwell and I can feel time slowing down as my own ticks down to the last minute of my life.

Kicking and screaming, this is how I go down. I hope Grayson knows I wouldn’t leave him if I had a choice.

I can taste saliva thickening in my throat and beads of sweat trickling down my brow. The man stops, knocking me into the wall at the bottom and I fall into the pool of Clevus’ blood in despair.

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t ya?” Another man steps into the hall and I feel my defiance outgrow my fear.

“You’re going to die for this! Grayson will kill you!” I shout, smirking as the man nods with his lips pursing. He takes a couple steps toward me, leaning down to almost face level.

“I have it on good authority that won’t be possible.” With a flick of his wrist his men move and I see them bring in an unconscious Grayson and throw him on the floor before my feet.

His left eyebrow is cut and bleeding profusely, his eyes closed and lips parted ever so slightly. He’s out cold, unaware of the world around him. But I’m not.

No. No. No. NO, NO!

“I should thank you. If you hadn’t softened this idiot, he’d never let his guard down and none of this would be possible.”

Oh God…this is all my fault. He let the guards have a night off and those who stayed were outside and easy targets.

“Take her out.” And before I have the time to let out a single tear, my vision blurs and everything goes dark.

Back to the present – 3rd Person POV

“Sorry darling. Nothing personal.” And then he pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened in the actual sense of the word, the gun being emptied out before it was handed to the star-crossed lovers. Yet, everything happened in that moment.

Y/N stood in her spot, shocked at what almost happened. She could have never pulled the trigger, not in her wildest dreams would she have harmed him. But he did. He pulled the trigger without so much as a blink of doubt.

“Oh, I guess I was wrong then! Only one of you love the other enough to die for them. Cold, Grayson. Even for you.” The stranger chuckled, taking the gun as his men grabbed a hold of Grayson and started to tie him back up.

He loaded the gun with a single bullet, turning it toward Y/N’s head once more, keeping eye contact with Grayson.

“I should ease her suffering. After all, she’s the reason my son is dead. She got away with little to no consequence, but that’s because I’m a good guy.” And that’s when Y/N realizes who this stranger is. He’s Damien’s father – the leader of Grayson’s rival gang. It’s the war Ethan warned Grayson about and she was so oblivious to it all.

“I just wanted to know where my son’s body is, but hey…I’ll take pleasure knowing you two got exactly what you deserved.”

Before the trigger is pulled, a mass of warm slaw plastered onto Y/N’s face and a guttural scream erupted from deep inside her chest once she noticed brain matter mixed with blood running down her skin.

She heard a blow after blow, looking around to see almost all of the enemies are dead or about to be and Grayson already on his feet, fighting actively.

Y/N wanted to be strong as Grayson once called her, to be epitome of powerful. But after the week of torture she endured – both mental and physical, she couldn’t keep up a picture of the woman she once was. She crumbled to the core, none of her walls remaining intact.

Legs giving out, she started her fall, but the darkness never came as a pair of arms held onto her and pushed her into the safety of an embrace. It wasn’t Grayson, she knew it by heart, but the scent was similar – Ethan’s.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He whispered over and over in her ear, running his gloved hand down her hair and he held her close, keeping her standing just by his own force. She got close to Ethan in the past year as they both loved to tease Grayson and enjoyed playing video games or even watching TV as their shows have become a religion, a way of life and the best bonding experience. Yet she never expected his arms would be the ones she’d fall into.

The fight around them stopped, continuing somewhere deep in the bunker they were held in, allowing the men inside to take a minute and breathe.

“Took you long enough, bro.” Grayson’s hoarse voice sounds before he spits at his captive’s dead body and moves to take Y/N in his arms.

“You try finding out a damn bomb shelter in the middle of the New Jersey woods!” Ethan exclaims, releasing the pressure he kept on Y/N who buried her face in his leather jacket and held onto him for dear life. Her entire body trembles, her choked sobs racking her body.

“Give her to me.” Grayson opens his arms, preparing to take her when she turns around and shakes her head.

“Ethan take me away from here, please.” She asks meekly, only tightening her hold on the older brother while the younger watched.

“Bro, what do I do?” Ethan asked Grayson, lost on what happened down there that’s so bad Y/N could barely look at his brother.

“Doll.” Grayson tries.

“Don’t! Don’t call me that ever again! Or anything at all for that matter!” She shouted, the force used tearing at her throat and the words alone would have hurt them both, but this broke them.

“Take her wherever she wants to go.” Grayson’s monotone, cold voice returns, swallowing thickly as he watches her disappear from his view. He knew the right thing to do.

Ethan put Y/N into his car, driving back home with a gnawing thought.

“What did he do?”

Y/N lift her head up from her shoulder, looking to Ethan.

“I understood when he refused to admit he knows me when they beat me. I understood when he didn’t even flinch when I cried. But I can never understand why he pulled the trigger after I failed to do the same. He would have killed me without a second thought. All for his gang…his only priority. I know now I have no place in his life. I just want to recover and get the hell away.” She grumbled, her head in her hands as her consciousness faded.

Ethan swallows thickly, looking at her in shock. He knew Grayson loved her, so whatever happened down there must have been taken out of context. His brother wouldn’t have risked her life like that for no reason.

Would he?

**

Days passes and Grayson never saw Y/N leave her room. She barely ate what the maids brought her, taking her water mostly for the pills.

The doctor told him she has a few cracked ribs, lots of bruises and cuts which would heal in time, but nothing permanent or life threatening. He too was healing, his body more black and blue than anything else. He had so many stitches on his body, he’s lost count. But all he cared about is the girl he had lost.

She checked her e-mail, finding Columbia offered her a scholarship – an anonymous donor decided to help her out and she finally found what she needed to pull herself together and face Grayson one last time.

She knocked on his door, holding her breath and he nearly lost his mind when she came inside.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, containing his excitement as his eyes looked her over.

Her face covered in bruises, drained and stripped of the usual smile she bore. Her body no longer had that extra meat on her bones he loved and she seemed frail…lost.

“I’m leaving.” She cleared her throat to stop the raspiness, pursing her lips.

“This house, this life…You.” She could feel the lump in her throat growing, making it harder to swallow.

“I have given you so many passes in the past.” She sighs, looking up at the ceiling as she leans back on the door to close it all the way and bites her lower lip.

“Too many…But you…you were willing to kill me…and to do what exactly?” She brought her eyes back to him, anger inside her bubbling when she saw him staring back at her. He doesn’t even bow his head in shame, no apologies, nothing. He’s just staring back at her and she hates him for it.

What she doesn’t know is that he’s staring because he knows once she walks out the door, she’ll be gone for good and he needs to remember her as she is now, to have something to live for.

“Why? Tell me some lame excuse, lie to me, anything! Justify it and I’ll believe you and I’ll stay!” Her voice raised in frustration, Y/N ran both her hands through her hair, shaking her head vehemently.

“Do you even love me?” Her voice broke, tears collecting in her eyes as she hoped he’s say anything.

“I promised never to lie to you. You should go.” Grayson spoke, no emotion passing on his face and Y/N shakes her head. He’s trying to convince himself he’s doing the right thing. Letting her go is the best thing for her.

“I’m such an idiot for thinking you might actually care for me. Grayson…You’re the bad guy, not the prince! And bad guys always get what’s coming to them! It might not have been this one, but someone will get you and you will remember me in those last moments of your life – remember me because this heartbreak you caused is the reason why you’ll be going straight to hell.” She turned around, walking out of his room, out of his house and out of his life.

Ethan rushed in, eyes wide and tears running down his cheek.

“What just happened? Why is she leaving us?” Ethan’s voice broke as his brother looked at him, reaching for a red rose that was behind him – the one he gave her that night in the garden.

“You will never know the depth of what I just lost.” Grayson choked out, crumbling the withering red rose in his hand.

**

Three months passed and while it was hard, Y/N finally lived her life. She found solace in school, loving every minute she spent studying. She lived on campus as it was provided to her by her anonymous donor and she even got a job! It was frustrating beyond belief to find pretty much anyone she met offered her a job after she told them her name, meaning Grayson must have pulled every string he had in the city to make sure she had somewhere to work should she want to.

It seemed she couldn’t get him out her life no matter how far she went.

She worked in a small café where the owners never heard of Grayson Dolan and DT Empire meant absolutely nothing to them and The house of the rising sun was just a song, ending her shift at ten every night. It was easier than she thought, moving on and letting go of the past. Until she went to sleep. His face is all she could see in her dreams. Haunting her, calling for her.

Until she started being haunted in the day as well.

“A coffee, please.” A familiar voice brought chills down her spine and she whipped around so fast she got dizzy.

“Ethan?” She whisper shouted, leaning toward him so no one hears her.

“Missed you. I’m sorry if this is inappropriate.” He apologized, giving her his puppy dog eyes and she sighs, pouring him a cup.

“If he sent you…” She trails off. She didn’t even know how he found her. She’s been keeping a low profile this entire time.

“I don’t want to know.” Shaking her head, she looks at the customers in case someone needs her.

“No, just a little worried about you. You kind of disappeared on us and I didn’t even get a goodbye.” A slightly accusing tone made her heart clench, but she couldn’t let him get to her.

“He’s miserable without you. Barely eats or sleeps….He’s reckless and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he’s killed. He even cancelled all his appearances.” Ethan pushed, continuously making her feel like she’ll either burst into tears or cry her eyes out.

“Not my problem anymore.” She states with a huff.

“You and I both know it is. You love him. I can tell.” Ethan tilts his head to the side, raising one eyebrow.

“Just…never mind.” He drops some money on the counter, much more than needed as his brother used to do before storming out, leaving his coffee untouched.

Y/N rubbed her forehead, finding a feeling of walls caving in on her becoming too real. She needed to think, to find some way to let go of Grayson because Ethan is right. He’s still in her veins.

Excusing herself early, she decided to go to one place she knew she’d feel close to him without actually seeing him.

She drove up to the hotel, passing by Rinaldo and walking into the secret garden. She brushed the roses with her fingertips, slowly walking up to the overlook with her heart in her throat.

It felt like that night he brought her here, the distant echo was still alive and frozen in time. Maybe this is what she needs, closure.

Sitting down crisscrossed, she rests her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, watching the city lights burn brighter as the darkness consumed the day.

A part of her felt almost peaceful, while the other raged on. It was a never ending battle inside her – one part of her loving him and the other hating him. Maybe that’s life.

Trusts are broken, lies are told. For us to believe in what we seek, we must know what it means to be what we don't want to be. Being sad makes you realize how valuable being happy is. Being weak makes you know what it means to be strong. Being helpless makes you determined to be helpful. Mistakes happen, awful things might happen in one's life. But her trust in him never wavered until he pulled the trigger.

She didn’t have nightmares about the man who hurt her. She had nightmares about the men she let into her heart who broke her.

“I knew the gun is empty.” A voice pricks her small bubble, making her turn around and nearly fall in the process.

“What?!” She looks at him, finding him dressed entirely in black, only a deep red shirt peering out of his suit. He’s watching her with a distant, wistful look, his eyes surrounded by dark circles and his face unshaven. His hair is disheveled and she can tell he hasn’t been taking care of himself. He is a mess.

“The gun doesn’t weight the same when it’s loaded and when it’s not. I’ve held enough of them to know the difference. Plus, no one sane would hand me a loaded gun in that situation.” He clears it up, his bottom lip quivering.

“I knew it could save you…after he said they’d let you go. I thought you’d be safe. You’d leave the bunker and I’d die with my heart and mind at peace.”

“Why didn’t you say this to me back at the house? Huh? You said being honest with each other is the very definition of l…friendship.” She threw his words back at him, narrowing her eyes and bawling her hands into fists.

“Love. Say it.” He matches her furrowed eyebrows, swallowing his pride.

“Stop it! Stop playing with my emotions!” Her desperate shout had made him flinch, his nostrils flare with a heavy exhale.

“I did what I thought was best for you at the time. So you wouldn’t pay for my mistakes anymore. I hate that you got caught in all of it, but that’s over now and I…I’m selfish and Rinaldo told me you came here and I…I hoped you were here for me. I just…”

“You took my right to choose. That’s what you did.” Y/N held back tears, everything she tried to hold against him crumbling now when he stood before her as broken as she is.

Shaking her head, she walked by him, entered the hotel and prepared to sit in the Impala when a hand on her arm swung her around and flush against his chest.

Another loud sound echoed in her ears, distant screams following and Grayson’s arms around her tightened as he jerked forward.

“We got him!” She heard some men yell, but that’s the last thing on her mind as her eyes connect with Grayson’s.

“Goodnight.” He whispered, the sound barely making a dent as her mind is racing and her heartbeat is deafening.

He falls back down, her arms unable to stop his collapse.

Y/N shakes him once, seeing his eyes are closed and his are shut.

“Wake up!” She grabbed him by the collar, violently shaking him.

“Wake up, you selfish son of a bitch!” Her voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, her fingers clutching the fabric of his suit.

“You promised me a forevermore! You promised me a fairytale!” The raspiness of her voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside her chest.

“You’re the bad guy, not the prince! And bad guys always get what’s coming to them!”

The memory of her venomous words clouded her sanity, her hands trembling and her lips quivering.

“I was wrong.” She bowed her head down, a choked sob escapes her.

“You’re the prince. My prince. I was just so angry…and hurt!” The tears she couldn’t hold back fall in waterfalls, her head lowering until it’s on his chest. Her skin eyes closed in hopes of waking from this terrible nightmare.

“I love you.” She whispered into his chest, breaking down when he didn’t say it back. She thought she should be used to it by now, but this time was different.

Grayson always chose to say goodbye instead of 'I love you’ for that would mean falling and she was always afraid of heights. So goodbye and a kiss on her forehead seemed like a good way to go in his mind, letting her know she is in his heart without scaring them both with the daunting words.

Somewhere deep inside, she knew it too. She knew he loved her and feared saying it out loud for it would make her a target in his world and he couldn’t imagine something happening to her because of him.

“All this time I’ve blamed you. For pulling me into the dark. But I was wrong. It was me who brought out your dark side.” She broke down, none of her hate for him remaining. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on.

“Is he?” Ethan fell to his knees, watching in shock. His gun falls beside him, no more strength to hold it in his hands.

“Oh, God!” Y/N punched his chest in despair, screaming with her whole body so loudly in her hurt. The scream came again, desperate, terrified... human.

“Guys?” A faint voice stopped Y/N’s wails, making her look at Grayson who just opened his eyes in confusion.

“You son of a bitch!” She slaps him, standing up with the back of her hand at her mouth as both guys let out a strong of ‘Hey’s!’

“What did our ma’ ever do to you?!” Ethan chuckles, wiping his own fake tear away before smacking his brother and helping him open his suit, showing the vest.

“Did you just fake your dead to hear me say all those things?!” She shouted at him, kicking a rock in her anger and he pressed his lips together to stop himself from admitting the truth.

“You made me watch Far and Away, had to use it eventually! And you said you do love me, so shut up and hear me out for one moment. Y/N, please!” Grayson stood up, motioning for Ethan to give them some space.

She reluctantly stops, crossing her arms over her chest and looks to him. Fourth time he pleads. All four times with her. He didn’t even plead for his life.

“I know your world would be much easier without me, that’s why I told you to leave.” Grayson steps closer, wetting his lips.

“But it wouldn’t be my world without you in it. You pushed me away when I needed you the most!” She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the chipped nail polish with a crooked smile.

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Doll, look at me.” He uses the damn nickname, the very one that started the whole storm he brought into her life.

“I hate how weak you make me feel.” She states, looking into his eyes at last and he smiles, shaking his head.

“Whenever you think you feel weak, just remember you’re Y/N Y/L/N and I, Grayson Dolan absolutely love you with all my heart. You make me weak and I’m not ashamed to admit it.” He leaned down, trying not to look long at her as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

Hearing him say the words finally took her last bit of doubt and she jumped into his arms without holding back. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the world warmer somehow, her future within seeming a little less bleak.

“Say it again.” She whispers into his chest, getting a rumble in return as he chuckled.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” He repeated over and over until she couldn’t take it any longer and her lips crashed onto his.

Soul meets soul on lover’s lips.

In the end, she was right… People don’t write sonnets about being compatible, or novels about shared life goals and stimulating conversation. The great loves are the crazy ones. The kinds that are epic always take a toll on both parties.

“You’re not off the hook though.” Y/N broke the kiss, needing air as her lungs began to burn.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” Grayson smirked, brushing his nose against hers for an Eskimo kiss.

For now, all he wanted is to get her home and in his bed and just talk…Talk about what she’s been doing the past three months, every detail he has missed. He wondered if she realized he pulled strings and dropped her name in every corner of New York to get her a job when she left. He wonders if she’s figured out he’s the anonymous donor that got her into Columbia. If she hadn’t, he’d never speak of it. She deserved some good in her life and he was dedicated to make it happen for her.

“God gave me a good, beautiful woman and I have every intention on loving her well.”

With his rivals gone, he slowly pulled out of the illegal branches of his work and legitimized his business completely. He wanted a safer life for her and his family, one he hoped to start with her by his side. He changed without even realizing it and it’s all for her. It’s always been for her.

And although this is not where their story ends – wrapped in each other’s arms as they sit in her Impala, Y/N driving Grayson for the first time ever, this is where we leave them.

Every song has a CODA, a final movement. Whether it fades out or crashes away, every song ends. Is that any reason not to enjoy the music?

     * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tags: @fallinginlove-16 @godlydolans @accalialionheart @heyits-claire @xalayx

[uk-news-talking-politics]

Bullsh*t and the Budget

By Sam Fowles

What’s the best way to drive an economist crazy? Tell them the government needs to “pay back” it’s “debts”. As Jonathan Portes put it, the idea is “complete nonsense”.

Yet this is exactly what Andrew Marr, a supposedly reputable broadcaster with a national platform, did on Sunday ahead of this week's  Budget, insisting “at some point we’re going to have to pay that [pandemic spending] money back.” Marr’s economic illiteracy, however, is symptomatic of a much deeper malaise: the widening gap between our national debate and reality.

Princeton’s Harry Frankfurt argues in his book, “On Bullshit”, that public debate is increasingly dominated by “bullshit” statements. A “bullshit” statement is one made to convince without regard for the truth.

Frankfurt attributes the rise of bullshit to increased opportunities to broadcast our opinions: With so many chances to share our thoughts, we feel under pressure to do so. We have, therefore, both more opportunity and more social pressure to promote “takes” that can be entirely specious.

On the flip side, our social media driven communications culture offers no real disincentive for dishonesty. It was almost inevitable that bullshit culture would be weaponised by politicians. Donald Trump epitomised this, achieving huge political success by ignoring reality and persuading his supporters to do the same.

Yet one of the most influential and established bullshit tropes is just as well established in the UK as it is in the US: That the economy is analogous to a household budget. We still believe that, like a household, any money borrowed by the government must be paid back in the short to medium term or else lenders might stop advancing credit to the UK or “call in” their loans.

The consensus amongst economists is that this is entirely wrong. Indeed, some of the country’s most eminent economists have written to the BBC pleading with it to stop promoting the trope.

One does not need to be an economist to see the problem: the state isn’t a household. It has far greater powers and an entirely different purpose. Unlike a household or business, it is almost impossible for the UK to go bankrupt because the UK controls its own currency. It can increase the amount of money in circulation to fund its own debt repayments.

It can even borrow money from itself (a substantial percentage of UK government “debt” is held by the Bank of England). In theory, the UK’s money supply is not unlimited because “printing money” can ultimately lead to inflation. Governments, however, can and do create huge amounts of money without triggering an inflationary reaction.

In 2020, for example, the Bank of England created £100 billion of new money, yet inflation remained at 0.8%. For this reason, investors are keen to buy government bonds even when state borrowing is high. In 2009, for example, the UK “deficit” (the difference between state debt and tax revenue) rocketed form 3% of GDP to around 10%. Investors, however, were so keen to “lend” the government more money that the interest rate on bonds dropped from 5% to 3.6%.

The modern version of the “household” trope came from a 2010 paper by Harvard’s Carmen Reinhart and Kenneth Rogoff. They argued that state debt above a certain level creates a drag on economic growth. This was seized on by politicians at the time. The Cameron government based its “austerity” policies substantially on Reinhart and Rogoff’s conclusions.

Just three years later, however, it emerged that Reinhart and Rogoff had made an error in their data. The International Monetary Fund has since rejected their findings and, to their credit, Reinhart and Rogoff have distanced themselves from policies based on their paper.

UK governments and media, however, have singularly ignored the fact that the “household” model has been debunked and abandoned. There are, of course, rational political reasons for wanting to limit government borrowing. But these are based on ideological preference, not financial necessity.

In the UK, however, we continue to conduct our public debate on the assumption that the government could run out of money (or ,at least, credit) at any moment. In May 2020 it emerged that Treasury officials (who one might expect to be relatively up to date on the consensus amongst economists) were already identifying spending cuts and tax increases to “pay for” the pandemic borrowing.

In November the BBC’s political editor, Laura Kuenssberg, warned that the “national credit card” had been “maxed out”. In his autumn statement, the chancellor cut overseas aid in the name of “fiscal prudence”. Even opposition politicians accept the trope.

The result is that our national economic debate increasingly takes place in a sort of parallel reality. Bullshit like this is dangerous for our democracy. Truth is an inherently democratic concept. If our debate is based on truth, then anyone can use facts and rational analysis to convince others.

Bullshit, however, is inherently undemocratic. When truth is sidelined, the influence of those with the most dominant platforms (like newspaper owners, those most able to fund big PR campaigns, or the state itself) is increased.

Unconstrained by the need to justify their arguments by reference to reality, those with the biggest platforms can convince us of anything. The Capitol riots, based on bullshit allegations of voter fraud spread from the presidential “bully pulpit”, show just how dangerous bullshit can become. While the UK is not there yet, our own form of economic bullshit sets us on a dangerous road.

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

Mermaid AU Red Crackle/Rebellious Birds Headcanons 4

I’m backkkkkkk and here is some more of the mermaid au!

Graham wakes in the hospital told he had an electrical accident. He has no memory of his time at VILE. All he knows is he has a pretty red scale in his clothes, and he will treasure and protect it at all costs.

He feels a longing every time he looks at the ocean. It’s a powerful ache. He recalls he never had much interest in marine stuff before, but now he finds himself constantly reading marine life books and mythology on mermaids. More than once, he’s fallen asleep to the sounds of the Little Mermaid playing on his tv, dreaming about stormy eyes and a beautiful red fish tail. 

One day in the early morning, he’s walking along the beach. He usually takes walks on the beach before his shift at the Sydney Opera House, but this morning, he sees blood on the shore, and races towards it, thinking an animal got hurt. To his surprise, he finds a real life mermaid, unconscious and injured. She’s beautiful--his heart nearly beats out of his chest at the sight of her. Panic seizes him--he’s terrified she’s dead. He finds she’s breathing and he immediately rushes her home, wrapping her wounds and putting her in his bathtub. 

He doesn’t know why he feels so drawn to her, but all he wants for her is to wake up and be okay. Never once does it occur to him to call any news station or make it public he has a real life mermaid. He just wants her safe. 

Carmen awakens in the bathtub. Her brain is foggy. The last thing she remembers is Sheena, Antonio, Jean Paul, and Shadowsan fleeing from VILE island with her. They’ve been planning her escape for months. After Gray was gone, Carmen was absolutely heartbroken. She barely ate, and her friends knew it was time to take her away from VILE. However, their ship was ambushed and Carmen was injured, falling into the sea. 

When she focuses and sees Graham watching her anxiously, she nearly jumps out of the tub in happiness. She’s frantic, speaking quickly about how she thought she’d never see him again. Graham doesn’t know her, he has no idea who this mermaid is. She calls him “Gray” and he feels his heart break when he tells her he isn’t Gray, he’s Graham, and he found her on the beach injured. He has no idea who she is, and Carmen looks devastated. Graham quickly tries to cheer her up, reassuring her he was friendly and he was going to help her get better and then she could go home. Carmen smiles sadly. 

“Thank you. I trust you.” for some reason, Graham feels like another phrase should be uttered, but he shakes his head. Why should he want her to tell him she loves him? He just met her! Also, she’s a different species--he didn’t know how that would even work. 

----

Anyone want more?