#her rib pain seems to be rib 9 and 10 and she has a narrowing between vertebrae T10-T11 so

[pippindot]

So far consensus on my Conditioning post is that Pip needs a neurology workup to rule out various spinal conditions and that there seems to be something undiagnosed happening.

It makes sense and I've got the ball rolling already, I have my eye on ANOTHER specialist center and this should be covered by insurance as well. Just getting a referral squared away before I pull the trigger and schedule.

I'm so tired yall I just want to be able to have fun with my dog.

Also wrestling with the stupid guilt of Making Silkens Look Like They Have Problems

When really it's just that Problems Pip, who has 10000 problems per day, is an outlier and should not be counted

[crippleprophet]

[image description: an original poem titled “ten honest thoughts,” after Rachel Wiley. the text reads:

1. listening to that poem nine years later, I'm no longer concerned about other girls’ numbers, and I've never seen this man in jeans. still, I understand the impulse to Nancy Drew after his motive like there’s a cypher somewhere beneath each of his compliments, though even as a child, I knew I could never fit into her hiding spots.

2. at 13, I weigh more than my mother on her wedding night. I watch her swallow down diet shakes in desperation to never take up more space than her husband and despair when her body never looks any less like mine. at 14, the first in a long line of skinny boys puts her arm around me so far that her palm lays beneath my belly button, and the axis of the earth shifts in size. last night, I wanted to ask about the first time someone treated him as though he wasn’t untouchable.

3. her masc day is long hair, satin scarf, earrings the size of the best strawberry in the carton. none of the clothes I browse to buy her are made much larger than the width of his narrow ribs. I've long since told myself it was a choice to be flamboyant but never delicate; we’ve fought tooth and painted nail for access to effeminacy but I still can’t find a skirt that fits.

4. don’t get me wrong, the closest thing I've had to an access issue on this axis is crying in a clothing store. when I say my body has been the biggest in almost every room I've been in, I know this is different from never getting through the door, never fitting in the flimsy seats at their table. when the rheumatologist puts her hands on my stomach and asks if this is from the hormones, she does not say it will kill me. I know enough to call this privilege.

5. even at his sickest, I can feel the care with which she does not call the inflamed curve of her cheek wrong, only inaccurate. it’s been a few months since the candid sting of my message that these meds have recalculated the slope of my face, since he told me I was dashing without any kind of qualifier. I'm so tired of not being able to see photos from 18 without mourning my jaw, am ashamed to be so grateful he didn’t meet me 50 pounds ago.

6. I texted him from the ER for abdominal pain worse than anything I've ever felt. the doctor gives me an antacid and sends me home, and another podcast tells me men are not judged for their weight.

7. he says making love to another man his size would be all elbows, but I still send every photo like a challenge, am still surprised every time her desire does not seem to have shrunk to the size of his waistline.

8. the first and last skinny guy i fucked fucked off at the first sign of interest from someone smaller and closer. forgive me for all the sins I don’t know how not to hold you to. the first time a doctor told me to eat less, I was 6; it’s not your fault I'm starving for attention but can’t manage to open my mouth.

9. in the worst flare I’ve ever had, when I can barely manage the juice my best friend buys, he is the only hunger I have left—

10. days later, when I tell him I am eating again, she rejoices.

end image description.]

[a03bkdk]

no quirks bkdk fic rec list (p 2)

thirsty gay wingman fic by lalazee

((smut-14130-1/1))

Oct 11, 2019 "Thinkin abt besties-since-birth BkDk goin to college together, Dk begrudgingly bein Bkg's wingman w/chicks & lamenting his big gay crush. One nite, Bkg cant get laid, hes drunk in a shitty mood, so Dk propositions him, which turns into the best night ever & the WORST consequences."

My tweet got 366 likes & 66 reblogs, so that was more than enough reason to write about it.

romeo and romeo by supercrunch

((10473-1/1))

There’s a nasally howl from the neighbour’s place. Izuku looks up – it’s the very loud, very blond guy living in the unit opposite. They’re technically in separate blocks but their balconies are close enough they can see into each other’s living rooms. He’s dancing around in his pyjamas. Yodelling at the top of his lungs off-key, swinging his Pomeranian around by the armpits like a furry ragdoll. “You’re a dog! You’re a fluffy little yellow dog and you’re a pain in the ass but you’re still my favourite shit-stain, yeah!”

Izuku bursts out laughing. The neighbour’s head whips around. He yelps when he sees him, tossing the dog on the couch and scrambling out of view to hide in the hall.

Izuku drops the watering can and runs back inside to find his phone.Small Might: Guys. I've decided i have a crush on my neighbour.

(quarantine baking: a balcony romance)

mechanical bull by warschach

((smut-27573-1/1))

Katsuki has a track record of bad choices, it's a condition, but Izuku might be the one choice that's right.

battle of the bands by roadtripwithlucifer

((smut-168158-26/26))

'The rules are simple. Battle of the Bands. Local bands send in a single track to the radio station, and ten tracks are selected. Over the coming month, the songs play on the station and listeners vote on the top five. The top 5 play a live concert as part of a music festival, then the top 3 at a larger, indoor venue. The top two have the honor of opening on the first stop of All Might’s retirement tour – here. In Izuku’s home town. And finally, the winner gets the ultimate prize. Getting to spend the rest of the tour, forty cities, across the country as All Might’s opener. Three months. Same tour bus. Shoulder to shoulder with the greatest musicians the world has ever known.'Izuku Midoriya is a broke college student presented with the opportunity of a lifetime. But winning isn't gonna be easy, especially when one band's aggressive blonde frontman seems to be dead-set on making Izuku's life a living hell.

oh my god! they were roomates! by phatye

((smut-79108-57/57))

“Don’t go through my shit, and if there’s a tie on the door, then fuck off!” Katsuki growled. “...what?” he asked. Katsuki glared at him. “This is fucking college, and I plan on getting laid a lot! I don’t need some nerd cockblocking me! And what is with all the fucking toys here!” Katsuki had moved over to his shelves. “Are you a fucking child or something?!” This was not what he was expecting.

shades of blue by young_crone

((smut-22525-1/1))

Echoes filtered down the white hall as he descended the stairs toward the locker rooms, reverberating from the pool. A whistle, the sound of breaking water. He swiped the towel over his face, paused. The sliver of cerulean catching the sinking sun pouring through the skylights, the red and white lane buoys, the burn of chlorine.Izuku ran a hand through his curls, snagging on a knot. The clock on the wall reminded him how late it was. A minute wouldn't hurt. He worried his lip. Just a glimpse.

k-9 by warschach

((smut- 18304-1/1))

Izuku takes in a stray on one rainy night, except it's not a dog, it's a dog shifter who goes by the name, Katsuki. After the initial wave of panic and embarrassment, Izuku thinks his new pet/roommate is pretty cute.

sucker punch by warschach

((smut-41551-1/1))

But, whatever, Disney Boy over there was—

Prettying up real damn good that Katsuki got kind of distracted—totally understandable, like god those CGI pine eyes—and didn’t see the straight path he made for the metal trash bin in the center of the area until he was tipping forward and waist deep in discarded bottles, plates, balled up tissues sticky with he prayed was chocolate ice cream and nacho cheese.

Mina howled behind the gate. “Look, Katsuki returned to his home.”

(or Katsuki works security at Six Flags and moonlights as a derby dude and continuously looks uncool around Izuku)

may I take your order, dipshit? by supercrunch

((6373-1/1))

So, like, maybe Bakugou wasn’t really the best choice for this whole pizza delivery shindig.

(Midoriya in love, Bakugou in denial, and way, way too much cheese.

A BakuDeku romance in thirty minutes or less. )

raise me so high (your sins become my pedestal) by stardust_painter

((smut-10804-2/2))

After his boyfriend cheats on him, Izuku wants to do something stupid. The question is how stupid does he want to be.

The answer is very stupid apparently.

eye for an eye or whatever by tobiyos

((smut-4049-1/1))

“I’ll make it up to you!” Izuku says brightly, lifting his head from Katsuki’s lap.

Katsuki’s eyes narrow but he isn’t still pushing Izuku away so. Progress. “Fuck are you gonna do to make it up to me?”

“Hmm…” Izuku says quietly, tapping at his chin. “Oh! You’re still a virgin, right?”

Katsuki chokes on his own spit and promptly renews his efforts of pushing Izuku away by the forehead. “Fuck off,” he wheezes, “get out of my room.”

leap of faith by ladyofsnails

((28771-4/4))

Midoriya Izuku is just a random kid who loves art, analyzes everything, and is obsessed with the (in)famous hero Mighty Spider. He's got a loving mother, a great uncle, and maybe not too many friends that aren't those two but he's working on it.

And then a random cute boy shows up at his school, a spider bites him, he meets his hero under the worst possible conditions, and it all goes to hell. Now he's got villains on his tail, a promise to keep to a dead guy, and a washed-up hobo as his mentor.

Here goes nothing.

green is the warmest color by gloriousporpoise

((smut-12287-2/2))

“Woah, someone call the fire department,” Eijirou says, elbowing Katsuki squarely in the ribs. “That guy is smokin.’”

“I literally hate you.”

Here’s the thing, though. Eijirou’s a certified dumbass, but his current observation isn’t even a little bit wrong, much to Katsuki’s displeasure.

“Think you can get his number?”

Or, Bakugou is a painter without a muse.

you and i collide by ethereals

((smut-20442-9/9))

And not that Bakugou’s the type to sexualize a potentially dead body; especially one that he just accidentally murdered, but the man has some pretty solid DSL’s. He would hit it, with more than just his car.

OR

in which rich fratboy! bakugou is a badass who accidentally hits poor med student!izuku with his car and chaos ensues therefore.

97.6 FM by jamjars

((smut-32249-3/3))

Izuku can’t stop listening to the radio host with the deep voice who sounds like he’s stuck in 2010. It’s a harmless crush. That is until he starts calling into the show under the pseudonym Deku.

Or Radio Host! Baugou x Listener! Midoriya

give me that sweet love by xsxuxgxax

((smut-32768-9/9))

Things Katsuki needs to excel at: be hot, be clever and pretend to be nice, let Izuku kiss him publicly, let Izuku fuck him privately…

(sugar baby katsuki and sugar daddy izuku pretty much)

dance with me by astralchaos

((30161-10/10))

Mina pulled up a video of a young man, seemingly teen, dancing to a popular new hit, and Izuku felt his heart drop to his stomach. His skin prickled and felt clammy as he started sweating nervously, not daring to move or make a noise. His eyes were glued to the screen but he didn’t see anything – his brain was too busy going into overdrive and freaking out.

Because Mina was showing him a video of himself. The one he uploaded last night.

How on Earth did she find this? He had barely a few thousand views, he wasn’t popular, and it’s not like he was even any good, especially compared to her or Kacchan–

“That move was sexy as hell,” Kacchan said, and that was when Izuku realized that his childhood friend – his longtime crush – also leaned in to watch the video Mina was showing him.

puppies puppies by Esselle

((15491-2/2))

"So after doing all that," Katsuki says, "you're just going to settle here? Tatting up wannabe bad boys?"

"You think all guys who have a lot of tattoos are wannabes?" Midoriya asks, so smoothly that it throws Katsuki.

"Wh—no, I mean—maybe!" Katsuki says. "You'd know best, wouldn't you? Are you a bad boy?"

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes it, and he regrets them immediately. There's a figurative list of things that one should never do, and probably high up on it is asking dark-haired sailors with ocean green eyes and black swirls of ink all across their barely concealed muscles if they are bad boys.

--

Katsuki thinks he has everything he needs in life: a successful pet shop, an occasionally reliable assistant, and the unconditional love of the twenty puppies he’s raising for adoption. But when the tattoo parlor next door hires Midoriya Izuku, a hot sailor with an affinity for dogs, it makes Katsuki wonder if he might need something more.

Like… a piece of that ass. Maybe. He’s figuring it the hell out as he goes.

im gonna make a part 3 later ergaegrggjnjuvuh

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 14)

Previously on LBitR...

Lena can’t remember ever running so fast in her life.

Her boots splash loudly on the wet pavement, and her lungs burn painfully as she sprints full-tilt down the street, heart hammering a frantic rhythm in her ribcage. She nearly skids as she turns the corner to where the RV is parked – looking exactly like she had left it, and her hands are clammy, trembling uncontrollably as she yanks the door open.

Her gasps for air seem to fill the empty space of the RV, and Lena thinks her heart will just beat right out of her chest at the sight of the empty cot. She can’t breathe, her head is swimming from the effort of running here like a madwoman, and her ribs hurt. She might just puke right here.

And she almost does, too, when she feels a heavy hand landing on her shoulder. Lena’s so wired, so afraid and panicked, she does the first thing she can think of—she twists on her heel to level the most violent punch she can throw at her attacker.

Her hand collides with concrete with a sickening crunch.

“Lena!”

Kara’s eyes are as wide as saucers, worried and understandably confused. Lena, for her part, can’t decide whether to be ecstatic or worried, so she settles on a strangely hysterical mix of both, cradling the hand that is undoubtedly broken to her chest.

“I see your powers are back,” she hisses through gritted teeth. The pain radiates from her knuckles, down her wrist, and all the way to her elbow, and she can already see her fingers are starting to swell.

“They’re not 100% yet, but I think some sun will do the trick,” Kara says, brows furrowed as she moves to cradle Lena’s hands between hers as gently as she possibly can. She narrows her eyes, looking over the rapidly purpling skin of Lena’s knuckles. “Definitely broken,” she mutters unhappily. “What were you thinking??”

“We need to get out of here,” Lena barks, pulling her hand away and rushing to one of the cabinets—Kara seems to pick up on what she’s scrambling for, and steps in to get gauze and other materials to fashion a splint.

“What happened?” she asks, delicately righting Lena’s hands and tenderly wrapping it up, tight and secure. “What’s got you so spooked?”

Lena groans in pain despite Kara’s care. “The man—the man I saw in Texas, he’s here—he’s definitely following us, and Alex” she yelps when Kara touches a particularly tender spot, “shit, it wasn’t Alex on the phone.”

Kara freezes, gauze dangling from her grip as she stops wrapping. When she speaks, her voice is tight, gripped by fear. “What did she—what did they say on the phone?”

Lena takes up the rest of the wrapping herself; Kara’s clearly too stunned to anything but gape in panic. “They said hello, this is Danvers.” She sighed. “She said that anything other than the two options…”

“Wouldn’t be her on the phone,” Kara completes. “OK, yeah, we—we gotta get out of here, we gotta…”

She keeps on mumbling as she rushes to the driver’s seat; Lena barely has the time to scramble after her, grabbing a bottle of painkillers from the first aid kit as Kara starts the vehicle and proceeds to speed out of the car-park, earning a honk or two as she cuts people off in her panic.

“Where do we go?” Lena asks as Kara swerves into the freeway. Her hand throbs painfully, but she manages to open the painkillers with her teeth, downing a handful.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Kara’s incredibly tense; the veins of her neck stand out, and her hands—Lena can see it clearly now—the grip she has on the steering wheel is beginning to dent the thing, and if it goes any further, she’ll mangle it with her fingers.

Lena reaches over with her good hand and rests it on Kara’s arm—the blonde is so startled by it they almost swerve into another lane, but within the next second, she calms down a little, as if just noticing the force of her grip on the wheel.

“We’ll figure it out, we’ll—we’ll figure it out, OK? Just—just give me a moment to think. We can… we can go South, maybe—the opposite of the route Alex had planned for us, maybe—”

Kara shakes her head vigorously, jaw clenched. “The only place we’re going is National City.”

“Kara—we can’t—”

“The hell we can’t!” Kara practically yelps. She looks anguished, gritting her teeth, with tears pooling at her lids. “Lex has my sister, Lena—I have to go back. I have to.”

“We don’t know if Lex knows you’re alive,” Lena starts, but the thought sounds ridiculous even to her own ears—Kara sends one look her way that plainly says are you kidding me. “OK, fine, he most definitely knows you’re alive, but that doesn’t mean we can just go rushing back to National City with no plan!”

“Well, do you have any ideas??” Kara shouts. Her voice is harsh, angry, and though Lena can’t blame her, it makes her flinch in her seat.

It takes Lena a few moments—a few breaths timed with the painful, dulled throbbing of her broken hand—to get her thoughts in order. “He must be tracking us, somehow,” she mutters, mostly to herself, though she can see Kara can hear her just fine—maybe her super-hearing has returned. “How are your powers?”

Kara sighs, deeply, looking a little guiltily at the deep grooves her fingers had carved onto the steering. “Super-strength is back; not all the way, but it’s here,” she says, then her gaze briefly locks onto Lena’s injured hand, cradled on her lap. “X-ray vision, too. I haven’t tried flight, but it feels like it’s back.”

Lena wants to ask how she can tell without testing, but trusts Kara’s knowledge of her own body—her curiosity can wait. “How about laser-vision? Freeze-breath?”

Kara shrugs, then concentrates for a moment, furrowing her brows. Her eyes begin to glow very faintly, and the visual is a little bizarre, like she has a an old, dying flashlight in her retinas. “Laser-vision is a no go,” she mutters, before puffing her cheeks for a moment and blowing a gust of air. There’s a faint mist of cold, but it evaporates quickly.

“I guess that answers your question,” she says unhappily. Lena closes her eyes, doing the math in her head—she had worked out earlier the maximum concentration of Kryptonite Kara’s blood could have and repel with only sunlight. Her head hurts too much for her to think very clearly, but she hopes to God they’ve reached it, or things will be much more complicated than they already are.

“OK, OK, so—so we have to—we have to think clearly, here. Let’s say your powers will come back with more sun exposure—”

“Then we have to get out of this cloudy place,” Kara interjects unhappily.

“—shut it, but yes—and we have to… We have to get rid of this RV.”

“What—why? How would we get around?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know—I guess you could fly—you said you think you might be able to, right?”

Kara looks skeptical, brows raised almost all the way to her hairline.

“I guess I could carry you, yes, but then…”

“No,” Lena interrupts, gritting her teeth. She’s almost certain she knows how they’ve been tracked—it’s a long shot, but she wouldn’t put anything past Lex at this point. It’s a lesson she feels like she’s learning way too late in life. “I said you could fly.”

Kara’s eyes narrow, and her lips tug downward into a deep frown. She slams her fist onto the hazard lights button—it leaves a dent on the dashboard—and abruptly stops in the shoulder of the freeway. Her breathing deeps, but it’s erratic, like she is trying and failing to keep it under control.

“Lena. What are you saying?”

Lena groans, closing her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at the expression in Kara’s face—she can already picture it in her mind; the outrage, the helplessness, the disappointment… But Lena is certain—she is absolutely certain it is the only chance they have of getting out of this mess alive. At least one of them.

“I’m saying we have to split up.”

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

<< Previous || Next >>

[fiendish-insanity-in-the-written]

Clare Archer (OC)

Name : Clare Archer

Date of Birth (& age): 11. September 1995 (25)

Gender: Female

Language: English

Family/Friends/Pets/Etc: Lives with her mother and two half sisters, she is the oldest child

____________________________________________________________ Physical Description

Height: 5′ 9′‘

Weight: 62 kg

Hair: Long, blood red, slightly curly

Eyes: Dark,emerald green with brown spots on the irises

Detailed Physical Description: Athletically built because of her love for athletics and martial arts, and she prefers judo. Long legs with wider hips, thin waist and long elegant arms. Prominent cheekbones and jaw, delicate facial features. Big rosy lips, long black lashes. She has several tattoos: a red and black tattoo of a Japanese demon mask on her shoulder blade, a black snake decorated with miniatures that climbs around her thigh all the way to her groin, a set of small demon skulls on her ribs.

Typical Clothing/Equipment: Usually dark clothes. Black jeans and grey top with a Harley Davidson leather jacket .

Personality/Attributes ____________________________________________________________

Personality/Attitude: Manipulative, very patient, sometimes comes off as aggressive, can play sweet and innocent when needed. Clare is a tortured soul and product of her sinister past. At first she will seem soulless, unwelcoming and somewhat an asshole, but her core is pure and has nothing but goodness. Her personality heavily depends on ‘character development’, in other words, in time spent with her, she will change accordingly. However, if you are aiming to really connect with her, it will be a long and painful process, and by painful I mean - it will take a lot of nerves and patience.

Skills/Talents: very good in martial arts, excessive knowledge in the field of biology and chemistry, high IQ and infiltrating skills

Favorites/Likes: ancient books with dark contents, rock music, dissection of people, playing with animals

Most Hated/Dislikes: animal cruelty

Goals/Ambitions: *depends on the role play*

Strengths: physical endurance

Weaknesses: if she gets emotionally attached to someone, she can become subjected to that person

Fears: narrow spaces, being buried alive

Hobbies/Interests: riding a motorbike, partying, studying the dark subjects

Philosophy of Life: Hell is here, devils are walking the earth, find the worst one and make him yours.

Attitude Toward Death: “As long as it is not me.”

Religion/Beliefs: Atheist

Fetishes/Strange Behaviors: sadistic men, being forced into submission, bondage

Occupation: Student of Biology / Scientist

Backstory:

Clare was born in a small town with not so loving family. Her mother was not particularly interested in raising children since she only had them by accident.She was a gold digger, a woman only interested in what a man can provide. Clare was her first “mistake”. Forced to learn how to take care of herself from a young age, she was constantly been fed lies from the people around her. Her biological father was a man who pretended to be interested for the show and others around him not to judge him, breaking promises left and right, and sometimes even forgetting Clare’s name, calling her Carla, Catty... Her father left when she was 5, and died a year later, and her mother re-married 2 more times, having two more children, Clare’s stepsisters Mel and Veronica, true daughters of her mother as they decided to follow in her footsteps, unlike Clare. She was disgusted with the concept of being a gold digger and a mindless toy for money, and her love and interest in complicated topics and dark content made her a black sheep in that family, so much that they openly hated her and casually locked her out side of the house, even when she was only 10. But she did not let them get to her, instead, she trained herself for years to shut down emotionally. The breaking point was when her mother took her to see her fathers grave at the age of 6 on Clare’s request, but the problem was that she left her there and it was just getting dark, telling Clare that she can do her a favor and just lay in to a empty grave that was next to her father’s.

She quickly developed the belief that gentile, love, affection = lies, and similar things are used as tools of manipulation, to get others to do your bidding or making them just useful for your needs. Perfecting her craft, she was using it through life, but her manipulation did not include much of those things, but the tricks of the mind. She gazed upon humanity with disgust in general, seeing only the selfish being and lying individuals, and in that moment she began fantasizing about killers. For her, they were examples of raw, unstained instinct and pointed to much deserved punishment of others that are truly evil. She knew she was no killer, she maybe could manipulate, help with the process of capturing victims, but something in her could not kill, yet she wanted to be part of the punishment. So her goal and plan was to find a killer and drill her way in his mind so she can join him, and finally be around someone who has no need or better said,just has no emotions what so ever, and is only “evil”, so when you know that and can’t expect nothing more, there is no danger of him ever hurting you emotionally.

Beside her plans and childhood, Clare was always a feisty one. Filled with energy and adrenaline. That is why she trained athletics and martial arts, to get the energy out, and built physical endurance plus be sure she can smite down anyone who stands in her way. She takes shit from no one,and even though she will not get physical right away, her sharp tongue will not hesitate to tell you things packed in a nice sarcastic dark humor that will bring you down from your high horse.

The only place where she did not mind people were rock parties and motorcycle conventions, since people there were similar to her. Dangerous from outside but still good from the inside, even though Clare hid her “good” very, very deep.

Although, her good side can come out and that is her weakness. When Clare gets attached to someone, they will find out that behind that wildcat facade hides a cuddling kitten, but those moments are reserved for someone who truly deserves it. Do you dare to try and be the one?

In her collage days, she did manage to get two friends that find her amusing and are not bothered with her flaming temper. Alice and Jake, who stick by her no matter how bad things are. But still, somehow Clare did not show her special good side even to them.

Extra information about Clare:

Clare’s childhood: - Preferences towards books

Clare’s demons: - Nightmare she hopes for

Clare’s jewelry: Blood vial bracelet

[littlefreya]

The Way to Hell - Part 11

Synopsis: Post Mi6, Alternate Canon. August escapes Ethan Hunt with his face intact and is currently the most dangerous man alive. Unwilling to back down from his murderous agenda, he plots to continue where he stopped, unaware of the trained assassin who is sent to bring him down.

Chapters:  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Completed.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings:  Explicit smut, violence, gore, cutting, angst, manhandling, choking, foul language, bondage, breath play, unprotected sex. 

A/N: Assuming my usual panic attack positions! Ok, so there are about 2 chapters left and I fear this story is about to conclude... 😰 This chapter put me through an emotional turmoill! Many thanks for my editor and muse @agniavateira, @yespolkadotkitty for the cover art and @dancingwendigo and @wondersofdreaming who’re helping me through my panic attacks and providing tips

Please comment, review and reblog.  💖

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Title: Hold me, thrill me, kiss me, kill me

Pearly tendrils of light shine through the creases of his lids, waking him from a dreamless sleep. A mixture of iron and dream-like mellowness tugs at his nose, like death and fresh roses. It’s so close he can nearly taste it on his parched tongue. Swallowing the scorching dryness in his throat, the fallen man attempts to move but a leaden warmth defies him, hugging softly onto his upper torso and embracing him in the foreign fog of solace. 

A delicate heartbeat murmurs against his, so frail it virtually feels as if it melted into his own ribs. 

As if she dissolved into him.

Cold sweat layers his forehead. Snapping frantically he shoves the girl off of him, curling against the headboard with a crazed neurotic look on his face as if he was touched by a blaze of blistering fire. 

“What the fuck do you want!?” August yells, his voice hoarse and cracked. His glare shoots through her across the small bedroom, his mind rapidly trying to grasp any recollection of the messy chamber. This location is strange to him; the walls feel like they’re closing in, withdrawing the air from his lungs in a place that seems like a warzone. The light-carpeted floor is soiled by a long path of the darkest red, the trail leading back to them.  

The porcelain valkyrie is pushed to the edge of the bed, seemingly like a rare mythological creature. Her long hair drapes her face like a dark veil, pierced by two shiny diamonds that glimpse through, imbued with naivety. Still drowsy, she tries to collect her own senses, rubbing her heavy forehead and releasing a soft groan.

“Relax, stop shouting.” she pleads with lids half shut. Her slender arms spread in the air, suggesting a peace treaty. 

August scowls, his airflow becoming short and quickened. He lets a hand rave over his chest with panic, finding it bare and sticky with dry blood and sweat. A clean bandage is wrapped around his left pectoral and crossed tightly around one shoulder. While the aching sting still bites into the wounded muscle, his energy has slightly renewed, as well as his sanity. 

Or so he believes. 

Making another hasty survey of the room, he finds his belt and armed holster scattered on the floor. He makes a dash for it, immediately aiming the gun in Ingvild’s direction, refusing to fall to whatever game this may be.  

She stares at him motionless, remaining seated with her knees folded and her feet nestled below her behind. “Feels nice doesn’t it?” she provokes, her lips breaking into a faint grin as if the muscles of her face are still learning the concept of smiling. “To wake up with your tits out.”

Looking back at her unamused, his hand waves the gun. A glower shadows his face, painting deep lines in his forehead. The attempt to greet her with an onslaught of insults results in nothing but a painful wheeze as his throat sears. 

“Don’t move,” Ingvild commands lightly and climbs off the bed, completely ignoring the click of the gun and August’s arm that follows her every movement. Her legs nearly float through as she moves gracefully, rushing to the bathroom nearby. She grabs a glass and fills it from the tap before quickly returning to sit on the bed, offering the tall glass to August.

Wary of her peace offering, he hesitates, scanning her for any signs of wickedness and finding none. Something else glints through her big irises instead. The deep lines that dot those beautiful greys seem so brittle, immersed in emotion he can’t define or recognize at all. 

It makes him feel attacked.

Snatching the glass violently, he swallows its content in one gulp, feeling a thirst he never sensed in his entire existence. He places the glass on the nightstand, slamming it so harshly it shatters.  

Ingvild peers at the light sparkling onto the broken shards and averts her eyes back to August’s profoundly ragged face. He glares with blazes of fury, evidently less than inclined to trust her despite her efforts to make amends, and the fact that she nursed him through a stormy night. 

It pricks her heart, more than it ever did when she tried to gain Liam’s affection.

“I could have killed you at least three times in your sleep,” she murmurs and then pauses, attempting to smirk again. “You should really lay off the snacks, I nearly fainted trying to get you to the bed.”

Unphased, he carefully gauges her appearance. Soft, pale light shines through the window, showering her skin with a mellow haze as she sits holding a hand over her forearm, squeezing it nervously. Her glance is filled with rain clouds, the cynicism and the hatred he grew so accustomed to is untraceable. 

A piece inside her shifted, deeming her fragile all of the sudden. In his heart of tar and stone, he knows she speaks the truth, yet the spirit of vengeance won’t let go. Bile rises in his throat, fingers twitching as the constant hunger to touch her prickles his skin. The woman is a natural prey to him, making his mouth salivate. It’s enough to see her defenceless to make him want to gnaw fresh cavities in her flesh. 

But something else boils in his veins. More than just a primal need.

“Why can’t you just let me be?” he asks sharply, teeth gritted and jaw strained tightly. A slight tremor runs through his bones, his body dominated by anger and despair. 

“You came here,” she answers, staring fearlessly between the barrel and his furious gaze. A small frown forms between her eyebrows, the grey clouds inside her lustrous eyes beginning to take wind. “You wanted to retaliate.”

Fragments of the other night begin to slice into the black matter of his brain: her tears, her lips moving slowly, whispering his own words of a vendetta in her angelic voice. 

Like a dream, nebulous and virginal, how beautiful she was surrendering her will to his. 

‘Fight it! She betrayed you.’

“Oh trust me, princess, I still very much want to see you die.” he retorts, the gun beginning to feel heavy in his hand. He reaches to hold his own wrist, giving a fierce glare. “You should have ended it, darling.”

“Yes, I should’ve killed you,” she agrees, her lower lip slightly quivering as she looks at him with desperation. Her chest begins to heave through the cleavage of her top, the same tarnished one she wore that night. It still smells like his sweat. His musk is so stubborn it lingers. 

“I should be a good girl, for Liam, for Icarus. But I have so many thoughts going through my head over and over again, splitting my mind in half. I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to kill for them, I don’t want to kill you. It hurts.”

Shuffling in a swift movement, she crawls toward him, her muscles flexing inward. Her slick manoeuvres remind him of a majestic feline. August’s pupils dilate as the lines of her face sharpen in his sight and the warmth of her body returns to caress him like a pleasant autumn breeze.

Ingvild reaches her slender arm for his wrist fearlessly before he can even muster any protest. Ignoring the gun aimed at her throat, she forces his palm flat onto her chest and inhales sharply. Her heart thunders against his touch, making his own beat accelerate.  

“Right here,” she says, gazing deeply into his eyes as if trying to enchant him. “I have killed close to 470 people since I was 14. I don’t remember their faces, but I do know I never felt this before, not for any of them.”

The azure ocean in August’s eyes gushes with alarming gusts. The scarce physical contact ignited a spark inside him, driving him to withdraw his hand aggressively, putting down the flame before it begins to spread again. 

“What do you want? What do you think this is?” he asks furiously, boring a frenzied look into her eyes. He feels a certain heat rising in his chest. He reasons with himself that it’s just the gunshot wound festering, burning his lungs to cinders.

“I want you,” she answers, her gaze dropping to his lips, admiring the fine shape. A sharp cupid’s bow hidden beneath the coarse hair of his thick moustache. Her hands dream of stroking his sculptured jaw and feel the bristle of his untamed stubble. 

“I want to follow you on your mission.”    

‘She is lying. Don’t trust her, remember what happened the last time you’ve placed your faith in a woman?’

August’s nostrils flare, his mind scouring frantically, bargaining for a reason why she would be different. Twice he spared her, his murderous will weakened by her manipulative spells, clawed by whatever it was she had on him. The voice in his head warns him gravely, yet the fact that here he is, still alive by her merciful hand spikes his doubts, meddling with his thoughts the way only she could do. 

Ever since she stepped into his life he’s been spiralling into a cataclysm. Something that he always gripped with zeal was no longer in his control.  

Leaning closer, he narrows his eyes with spite. The muscle of his jaw contracts, clenching tightly. He grazes the cold barrel of the gun against the supple skin of her cheek. “Why should I trust you?” he spits out, tracing her face further with the hard, crude metal.  “You think that because I broke you in, I actually care about you?”

Ingvild studies his face, not showing any sign of fear as she nods to herself. “You need proof.”

The young woman looks around her, searching for something in the room thoughtfully. Her eyes rest on the nightstand beside August and she leans to it, brushing her entire figure against his broad body for a split second as she reaches for the broken glass. 

“What do you think you’re doing, princess?” he asks cautiously, his eyes following her every move.  He crooks his eyebrow as she sits in front of him with her legs bunched beneath her bottom. Displaying her left arm with her elbow resting on one knee and her palm facing upward, she presses the shard against her wrist. 

August frowns in a mixture of confusion and agitation, alarm bells ringing at the back of his head. Yet no rational thought makes it to his mind as he watches the glass tear through her skin. 

Silence befalls the room. Abruptly so quiet he can hear the buzz of the electric cords running through the walls. Even her breath pauses as her right hand drops the shard on the bed, her eyes remaining poised, darting onto his. Overcome with disbelief he wonders if she actually did it, scrutinizing her flesh which seems intact.  

Suddenly, a spout of blood emerges through her open wrist. 

Dark red liquor licks down her arm, sensually dripping onto her worn jeans and pooling onto the blanket. August’s heart stirs with shock, yet he attempts to force his emotions away. 

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” 

Keeping her sight on his, Ingvild remains still, not flinching a muscle as the blood pumps out of her severed artery. The pain is excruciating yet the chants in her mind continue to tell her to hold her groans inside. 

‘Show no weakness, prove your strength.’

“You want loyalty.”

“Won’t mean a thing if you’re dead,” he answers coldly, waiting for her to stop the blood, to show any fear or regret. The thick liquid continues to flow down her arm, tarnishing her porcelain skin that begins to turn paler as the blood drains from her body. He gathers the torture must be unbearable yet she won’t even make a whimper.

‘What is she waiting for?’

“I’m not going to save you,” August warns. 

Ingvild shrugs lightly, trying not to move her arm too much. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll die one way or another, by your hand or Icarus’. At least this gives me a choice.”

The drops staining the bed sound like rain tapping against a window ledge, heavy and dull.

August’s brows knit together, his eyes running back and forth between her arm and her face, watching her lips turning light blue, triggering disturbing memories in his mind. “What on earth does that mean?” Heavy frown lines paint his forehead as he recalls her words before she shot him. 

“I have to kill you.” 

“You’re a slave?” he reckons, looking at the colour vanishing from her face as she nods. “How very disappointing, Ingvild.”

“A tool, controlled by men whom I’ve never seen to manipulate the world and sustain the old order, as you wrote in your manifesto.” she shuts her eyes for a mere second, trying to push back the throbbing twinge in her vein as her body screams with panic. 

“They stole my freedom…” she pauses, finding it suddenly hard to speak. “They stole me... what did they take from you?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snaps, aware of how her voice slows down along with her breath. He swears he can hear her heartbeat getting louder as if begging to be rescued. 

“But I am bleeding for you.” she provokes, offering a small weak chuckle. Feeling the euphoria creeping to her mind. “You should tell me your plans like villains do in the movies. I’m dying anyway.”

August snarls. Shaking his head, his eyes hold a rageful ocean, washed with concern. The image of her dying corpse lying beneath him flashes into his memory. A dead angel in the snow, lips frozen in time. He should have left her there in the frozen lake. But for a split second, she was Lacey and then she wasn’t. 

As she slowly dives into her own death, he still wonders why he couldn’t let her drown.

‘For fuck’s sake.’

Ingvild closes her eyes accepting the shadows that seduce her to join them, the pain dwindling as her body gives in. But she’s quickly pulled back by August who holds her hand, covering the bleeding slit with his tattered shirt and pressing into it. His voice comes as distant thunder, vibrating gently in her ears before words begin to make sense again.  

“Hold it up, like this,” he commands her, folding her arm and fisting her wrist tightly. “Where are the bandages?”

Ingvild tilts her chin, her sleepy eyes gesturing onto her bag on the floor where a pristine white pack of badges lies. 

“Keep the pressure on,” he orders her again. His voice is calm as if once again he follows protocols. Yet something stirred, hiding within the silent sea of his eyes which snap at her for a split second. 

They’re tainted by fear. 

Ingvild watches with hushed admiration as he hurries to grab the bandage and returns to her. A small wrinkle rests between his brow, focusing intently on wrapping her open wound. He makes such a beautiful, neat work dressing her injury, she almost feels sorry for making a mess out of his.    

“Have I proved myself?” she taunts, peeking at him through her lashes while he makes work of tying the dressing tightly at her wrist. His elegant hands wrap a piece of medical duct tape around the bandages, twirling the long thick bands ceremonially as if they were silk ribbons.

His stern gaze rests upon her face, noting every flake of her long lashes, watching the different colours shift like thick liquid as daylight breaks onto her glassy irises. Awe plays with the strings in his chest, mesmerized by the innocence in her that refuses to die even after he desecrated her. 

The craving in him seethes. Like a thirsty man in the desert who stumbles onto an oasis.    

‘You can’t let her go, can’t let her slip between your fingers.’

With her wrist still in his grasp, he allows himself to stroke a thumb over the white cotton of the bandage, brushing the suppleness of her skin.

“This is not the devotion I need from you, princess.”

Ingvild flinches like a scared animal, shivering at the foreign tenderness of his touch. No one ever touched her with kindness. Soft, feather-like caresses embark further up her milky skin, making her moan at the pleasant new sensation. Light and careful, his fingers ascend to her neck and press around her chin.  

“Angel,” August murmurs, low and sonorous. His bulky body looms closer, whilst the grip around her jaw becomes tense, drawing her closer until his lips are a mere inch away from hers. “Do you want to be devoted to me?”

“Yes,” she answers, voice still lingering either by blood loss or the passion that begins to cloud her mind.

Consoled by her answer, a small growl builds in the pit of August’s diaphragm, accompanied by a lustful grin that edges his chiselled face. 

“Then show me your devotion.”

“No…” she protests lightly, finally breaking into a true little smile that glints brightly in her eyes. The radiance almost makes him want to take it from her by force. “I’m not a toy.” 

August smirk widens at her response, exposing his sharp fangs that beam at the faint hint of rosy hues that circles her cheeks. 

“Did I stutter?” Authority paints his voice, his grip putting pressure on her nape and pressing her chin up with the pad of his thumb. The patience in him wears thin, greed weaving in his gut yet he vows to hold back as much as possible, unwilling to tear down her wings. 

She must submit freely.

Fallen by his power, she watches the darkness pour into his eyes, his lips pulling apart slightly, anticipating the moment when he can steal the air from her lungs and nibble into the plumpness of her lips. Whatever strength in her wanes, bending to his will. She meekly takes his lips into hers, suckling him above and below, feeling the rough graze of his moustache. 

It’s nothing like the violent kiss they shared in the pit, yet something in her quickly awakens: a hunger like no other, turning the kiss more demanding. Like fire spreading, their tongues quickly engulf each other, dancing feverishly. August’s growl vibrates all the way down her sternum, his hands roaming down to grope every patch of skin. 

A mewl of protest breaks from her as he leaves her lips, followed by a deep sigh as he begins to kiss down her throat. The scruff of his coarse facial hair makes her blood rush and her heart pumps with exhilaration, nearly halting from the bliss of his touch.

“I want everything.” August blurts out, tugging her shirt over her head and then biting her breasts over her bra. The canvas of her skin is tainted by deep-grey and purple shades. Flicking the clasp of her bra, he wonders briefly which were from their fight and which formed as he fucked her so aggressively. He feels nothing but pride in knowing he will make new ones right now. Brand her as he claims her his own. 

Sharp teeth sink into her tender breasts, coaxing yips of pain, marking her with wet little cavities while his fingers fiddle with her jeans, urgently huddling it down her legs along with her underwear. Impassioned, she shifts from her position, kicking away the last remnants of her clothes. The chill air tickles her wet flesh, making her exhale with ghastly need. More wolf than a man, August leans back, his torso layered with sweat that glistens of the dark fur of his torso. The fabric of his trousers is stretched painfully over the massive bulge and mindlessly she reaches out to feel him, kneading the outlines of his erection through his pants. 

‘Fuck, her touch...’ 

Fervent groans tremor through his sinew as she squeezes him harder. She frees him from his trousers, running a hand up and down his shaft, astounded by his vastness and the correlation of smooth velvet skin over rock-hard muscle. 

Still sore, the pounding heat of need rocks at the centre of her cunt, possessing her into swaying her perky breasts against his cock. Pearly beads of precum exude from the tip, coating the erected peaks of her nipples.

“Fuck!” August pants and swallows hard, as the battle over his self-control drains him. Patience has always been his virtue in bed, his power over women. Release in control by sodomy that inflicted true pleasure. 

But not with her. She strings different tunes, singing seductive hymns to the animal in him. 

He wants her. He needs her. He must have all of her.  

‘I deserve her.’

Drawing back against the headboard, his hands snap at her hip, lifting her with ease to stand on her knees right above his cock. Ingvild nibbles at her bottom lip, her eyes falling onto his hardened shaft which lies heavily against his abs. 

If not for all the injuries she caused him, the large man’s Adonis-like form would have looked like a renaissance statue cut out of marble. 

“Come here,” he commands, removing one hand from her to seize the base of his huge cock which towers with glory amidst the dark bundles of curls. “Take me in”

A stream of arousal rushes inside her, making her quiver as she lowers her soaked crease onto his erection ever so gingerly. Cries of overwhelm break from her lips. His girth splits her apart, whilst his wolf-like glares bore into hers with the triumph of conquest. 

Every push stretches her wider, forcing her body to succumb and accept him despite the painful effort. August is too big, his vastness tears whatever innocence is left to her, and he is not even fully within.

Shivering, she halts, hearing August’s snarl of protest when realizing she has her nails cleaving crescent-marks on his pumped shoulders.  

“All the way in, angel,” he commands, and then bucks his hips into her and snaps her down onto his pulsating shaft, giving no notice to the scream she lets out as he sears her. 

He drives himself in until her ass slams onto his thick thighs. She can feel his hot flinching cock buried within the dark pit of her gut while his sack strains against her clenched cavern. 

“Good girl.” August praises, pressing her against his chest as they both pant and groan in harmony. Calls of pleasure and cries of pain mingle into a sinful symphony.

But suddenly he stills, and his hand snaps at her neck. Thumb pressing at her artery, he makes a small thrust, causing her to whine as little sparks kindle in her cunt. 

“August, please.” she whimpers, trying to ride him to ease the aching despair that boils in her cunt. He fills her to the hilt yet gives no friction but the thundering throb of his thick veins. 

“Devotion.” he replies, his free arm fishing for the leather belt perched on the floor. With one determined wring of his wrist,he wraps it around her neck, giving her a nice little collar with a leash made of the thick strap. 

His finger brushes up and down the leather erotically, staring at the girl’s hazy grey orbs to see if he can find a drop of protest.   

Instead, she presses her hands on his furry torso and desperately begins to mount him with teetering gasps. The noose tightens with the sway of her body yet the tension and the grind within is far too agonizing to stay still; the need to have him sunken in her depth of her soul defies any will to breathe.

August gapes his mouth with awe, groaning loudly as he feels her drenched cunt gripping around. She’s impossibly tight, his fresh little flower, crying out so hopelessly as if it hurts, as if being fucked by his large cock is so pleasurably unbearable yet her life depends on it.

“Poor little tight cunt,” he taunts, urging her to fall faster back on his thighs while bucking his hips into her with deep slams. “you missed this?” he asks with a groan, tying the strap around his fist and pulling her closer to meet his hooded gaze, “You missed me fucking you, angel?”

Unable to make more than strangled sobs, she nods with glassy eyes, feeling the squeeze around her arteries while her cunt convulses and blazes with ecstasy. Flames bloom in the pit of her womb, every assault of his cock inside her pushes the heat further through her nerves. Desperate, she is reduced to nothing but her pursuit of forgotten euphoria. 

The fervent flames lick up her spine, darkness whispering in her mind. Yet she leans back, letting the noose devoid the oxygen to her heart and brain as her body falls lost into a delirium.

August feels her pussy tensing around his cock as the belt halts her airflow; through the heated waves of pleasure, an alarm blares. “Careful,” he rasps, reaching his fist to her throat to replace the belt and pulling her until her chest grinds into his own. “Don’t damage what’s mine!”

Her reply is a cracked wheeze, her body jolting as he fucks her into a punishing rhythm. Hot and burning, stoking inside her, balls thudding and battering her hole, the chant of their wet skin colliding in a violent dance accompanies the chaotic symphony of their moans. His angel latches onto him, wrapping tighter and tighter as her body accepts his offering of rage, sucking and milking him dry.

August pulls her face against his, fingers flexing around her jugular, lips grazing her own and then hovering to rob her of her feeble exhales. 

“You want to breathe?” he snarls.

Ingvild nods, feeling the storm of fire about to erupt inside her. Her canal gripping him so tightly she can feel every tendon and ridges of him grazing her walls. Tears well in her raincloud eyes, her heart shrinking as she feels him, all of him, consuming her with his existence.

“Then come for me, angel.” 

With his words, she arches back, letting the fire implode in her loins and sweep her into a rapture so intense her entire body shakes around him. All she can feel is August, filing her soul, seeping in deeper than her thoughts. 

Tears spring down her cheeks, emotions and pleasure whirl at her heart at once.

“August!”

Hearing his name on her lips spikes the savage spirits within. Reduced to a beast, he takes hold of her hips, flipping her over and riding between her thighs. His hands pin her down by the neck and he ravages her through her climax. He can feel the flinch of his cock, swelling larger inside her narrow space. The innocence of her essence devours him. All the hate and pain diminishes and for a brief moment, he is allowed into heaven, feeling nothing but bliss in his chest. His shouts of pleasure echo into the room, his body jerking into her as the hot, white ribbons of his thick seed sprout into her womb.

Falling down to earth is always the hardest part.

Taking a hard swallow, he leans his sweaty forehead against hers, rolling it slowly and listening to the silent hisses from her mouth. Still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, he pulls himself to his elbows fighting the spasm in his muscles and their will to collapse. His brow suddenly crumples at her sight: her eyes shine with a wide spectrum of emotions that glisten sadly down her temples. Shivering sobs escape from quivering lips, trying to find words that never make it to her tongue. 

August observes her carefully, removing his grip from her neck gingerly and reaching out a thumb to dry her tears. The crystals in her eyes were broken to dozens of many pieces that reflected the light back in various shades. A look of a lost child that carries an oddly familiar sensation, something that makes him cold and warm, as if Ingvild is inside his blood and he is inside hers. 

They had killed each other after all and then brought one another’s hearts to beat again. In his twisted mind, it made for a more profound intimacy than sex.

“Easy, babygirl.” he speaks unusually compassionate, dipping a finger in the wetness beneath her eyes and then slips it into his mouth, tasting the salt onto his tongue. “That was intense for you, wasn’t it?”

She nods silently, the emotional release tingling through her aortae, making her skin prickle with goosebumps. She never felt like this: whole, vulnerable, and belonging. She never felt anything at all, all her life. Her body tries to control the jitters in her muscles yet her body seems suddenly inexplicably cold.   

“Sh... it’s okay,” August whispers, capturing her lips into a chaste comforting kiss. “I’ve got you.” he murmurs and allows his lips to trail lower, pressing soft butterfly kisses over every patch of skin and bone, descending through the plains of her naked flesh, tasting the mixture of their sweat. His fingers find the large crescent scar in her lower abdomen, tracing the withering stitches in a sick memory of their first night together.

He feels no remorse. Had he changed his action, she wouldn’t have been his right now.  

Ingvild finally manages to release a sound, moaning with exhaustion as she eases into his care, her lungs and heart catching up when her body begins to float. With whatever strength left in him, August holds her the way a groom holds his bride, and carries her in his firm arms. 

~*~

The bath is filled hot near to the brim. Mountains of foam edge onto the water, looking like fluffy little clouds. This bathroom is not as nearly as luxurious as the one he had in Bergen. It’s painfully plain, like something out of an 80’s film, yet right now it looks like the most outrageous, spoiling delight. 

Sitting on the stone, his hand whirls the water, testing the heat before stepping in.   

“Come here,” he beckons, reaching toward Ingvild to join him as he sits down, releasing a deep sigh of relief as the hot water soothes the pain. The bath is hardly big enough for a man of his size, his knees buck up, peeking above the water. 

Ingvild takes his hand, stepping to sit at the spot between his thighs, making sure not to wet the bandages on her wrists. August’s arms guide her to melt back against his broad chest carefully, avoiding friction with the gunshot wound that begins to ache more and more as the last of the endorphins dwindle. He breaks into a small groan and lands his chin atop her head while glaring into the water with rising concern.  

“They will come for us.” Ingvild finally manages to find words, her voice still husky as her jugular strains. “Once they know you’re not dead, they’ll hunt us. We need to move, fast.”

August weighs her words. He muses over the sacrifice she made, and for whom? The man who stabbed her and nearly left her to float in a frozen lake? ‘She chose, you didn’t force her.’

 Indeed, it was her free will that brought her to him.  

“We should,” he answers, rinsing some water onto her torso and rubbing her forearms clean. “Just relax now, you won’t do me good all broken.”

“You care about me,” she teases, a small smile creeping on her lips.

“We will make for my safe house from here, and then we can take the train to Manchester,” he answers, ignoring her comment.

Ingvild catches some foam in her palm, squeezing the dissolving material between her fingers lightly and then blows it with the weak airflow that comes from her lungs. Little specks of bubbles fly into the bath. August watches them with her silently.    

“For the plutonium,” she utters.

“Yes.”

Tilting his head slightly, he looks down to see if there is any disgust or fear shadowing her face, yet finds none. The girl continues forming little abstract shapes in the dwindling white hills, twirling her fingernails on the tiny bubbles. The edge of her spine peeks between the thick strands of her hair, while hues of purple, nearly black, hug her nape. The girl is forbearing, enduring as she was taught; he wonders if it’s to please him, or if it pleases her as well.

Cupping water in his hands, he begins to wash her skin, pouring onto the back of her neck and her shoulders. He brushes his fingers through the brown waves of her hair while she leans her head back and closes her eyes.

It’s as if years of tension peel off from her, uncovering truths she fought to hide. August was right, and so was Liam; no one ever loved her. But now in the arms of a monster, she suddenly senses what she imagines would be care and affection. His touch is no longer clinical and it feels as if vines are growing onto her limbs, twirling around her and pulling her to become one with him. 

In her mind, she can’t help but start picking into the not-so-distant past, recalling being his hostage and the conversations they had when they still hated one another. The anguish that resonates in his eyes didn’t speak of hatred individually toward the world, the specks of brown held a fair amount toward himself as well.

“What did Sloane do?” she asks curiously. “In Bergen, you mentioned she did something to you.” 

She feels August’s sudden halt, his long digits entangled in her hair, pulling slightly while his chest sinks inward. His inhale takes into a heavy suction and his nostrils flare. He didn’t think of Lacey since he woke in Ingvild’s arms. 

“She tricked me.” his eyes focus onto nothing and his fingers resume their course through Ingvild’s wet strands. He becomes slightly agitated, unlacing the small knots that formed at the edge with force. “She suspected me and never liked me- for a reason, of course. She knew someone was distributing secrets and weapons beneath her nose, so she sent a spy. In my case, it was my partner.”

“A woman,” Ingvild continues, the realization hitting her softly. “Lacey.”

Her name on Ingvild’s tongue sends a shiver creeping from the base of his spine. 

“Yes,” he answers dryly and clenches his jaw. “We were partners for months. She got close. She... was loyal, she understood me or so I thought, but then I found out, she wasn’t.”

Ingvild hears the shift in his tone again, in their reflection on the water she sees him staring forward with grim shades painting his eyes. The corners of his lips tugged down as he broods.

“It sounds like you loved her.”

August remains silent, giving no answer. It resonates in her right away - betrayal burnt hotter than the wound itself. In their carnal twist, August burned her, but it wasn’t her carnal devotion he sought for. 

“Where is she now?” 

“Dead.” he answers, releasing a deep sigh of silent rage, not even bothering to shy from the truth this time. Ingvild was bred into a world of monsters; she breathed them, she killed them and he was just another beast for her to slay. Yet she chose to stroke her hand on his snout regardless of what she knew.

“I killed her.” 

In his mind Lacey walks away, her blue heels tapping on the floor, echoing before she gives him one last glance. She turns away, her golden curls dulled by the lack of light as she vanishes into a mist of smoke and shadow. 

Ingvild feels a slight relief at the thought of Lacey being dead, for some reason she can’t explain to herself.  August returns his gaze to her again, removing his hands from her hair. His hand wraps around her jaw, pressing her head to look into his piercing glare. He looks for fear but finds none.

“Try to rest,” he commands and then wraps his arms around her possessively. “Long days are ahead.”  

“Will you read me your manifesto?”

August looks down on her face once more, wondering for a moment if this is another hallucination. A terrible thought crosses his mind and his heart flinches; what if in these moments he’s actually bleeding to his death in the pit, his mind playing tricks as he breathes his last breath?

But the softness and warmth of her body feels more vivid than ever. Stronger than the doubt that creeps into his mind. 

“There has never been peace without first a great suffering. The greater the suffering, the greater the peace. As mankind is drawn to his self-destruction like a moth to the candle...” he chants, accompanied by Ingvild who also recites his words in her gentle voice. 

_________________________________________________

disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible and August Walker

[rainandhotchocolate]

Blackout - Part 10

A/N WHEW PART 10 we are 20k deep in this fic friends what a wild ride. This one is a bit intense sorry - but the next one will be fluff city promise ;) Enjoy!!

 (Last section of part 9)

“Again?” Y/N watched her sip some coffee and smile awkwardly at her. “Lily… was I at this job before I went to hospital?”

 ~~~~~~

Part 10

“No, you weren’t.” Lily grimaced as she replied, staring up at her awkwardly. Y/N felt something click into place in her head, the emotion that had been swirling around her, the feeling that something wasn’t right.

“For how long.”

“Six months.”

“SIX MONTHS?” Y/N yelped, “I haven’t been at this job for over half a year? Why did they even take me back?”

“The healers told us it would be best to keep you doing what you remember doing before the attack, so we reached out and they said it would be fine.”

“Did you know why I quit last time?”

“Yes… but I wanted you-“

“To get there myself yeah, yeah,” Y/N huffed, “So you’ve been watching me have a shit time at work every day, knowing that I had already realised this and left months ago.”

“Well that makes it seem harsher than our thought process.”

“You keep saying our.” Y/N narrowed her eyes at Lily who was now looking a bit sheepish. Good.

“Well, James, myself, the boys, Marlene-“

“What you’ve been having fun secret chats about me?”

“Y/N this isn’t some secret club where we talk about you, we were- are trying to let you heal properly, and if that meant reliving some things then that was what we were going to do.”

Y/N pressed a finger to her temple, trying to relax the headache that had been building over the last few hours. Or probably days. She took in a deep breath and looked around the room, thanking Merlin that it was late in the day and the area surrounding the little café was almost empty.

“I know, this is just very overwhelming.”

“Are you ok?” Lily leaned forward and placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s just a headache, the healers said this is common in the weeks after an injury.” Y/N winced as a throbbing pain reached her temples again.

“Maybe I should take you home?”

Y/N nodded, grimacing as the pain became worse, moving down into her neck.

“Come on, I’ll send a note up to your office as we leave.”

Lily helped Y/N up and led her towards the elevator.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius had only felt helpless a few times in his life. The first was when his mother taught Regulus and himself how to use the crutiatus curse and then practice on each other. The second was when he saw his mother’s eyes, black as the night, staring daggers at him when he came home for the Christmas in his fifth year and stuck posters of Muggle girls and Gryffindor merchandise across the walls of his bedroom, cursing them to stay up forever. This was the third.

“So, we’ve found our favourite member of the Black household, or perhaps we can’t call you that anymore?”

The voice of Lucius Malfoy hissed in his ear, making him growl. He hated that it still stung, the burn that he was sure sat in his parents drawing room where Sirius’s face was meant to be.

“I didn’t know I was your favourite, Malfoy, I would have dressed up more to see you,” Sirius crooned in return, trying not to wince as he pulled back a chunk of his hair and dragged him backwards into the room Sirius and Marlene had just been leaning against.

“Now, do you want to tell us what you two are doing here, or would you rather we get it out of you ourselves. Both ways work for us.”

“You keep saying us,” Sirius tried to keep his voice light, but found he was struggling to stand upright and edge away from Lucius as he kept a tight grip on his hair. “Who is the other lovely death eater addressing us tonight.”

“That would be me,” a slimy voice crawled out from the edge of the room and Sirius felt his blood coil. Snivellus.

“Ahh Snivellus, pity that’s the case isn’t it, Marls,” Sirius tried to shake his head in mock sadness but let out a cry of pain as Lucius kicked out his legs and kept his hands wrapped around his hair so it felt like they were coming out of his roots.

“Couldn’t agree more, Sirius,” Marlene called from the other side of the room and Sirius felt his heart lighten slightly at her voice. At least we weren’t killed on sight.

“And why’s that?” Severus growled at them, walking closer to Sirius so he could see his face in the soft moonlight, holding Marlene with a wand at her throat.

“Cause we were really hoping to catch someone important tonight.” Sirius sighed loudly and winked at Marlene who grinned. She mouthed Now.

Quickly, Marlene had elbowed Snape in the ribs and ducked out of his wands range rolling out of sight to presumably get her wand. Simultaneously, Sirius twisted under himself, letting his hair twist into a ponytail in Lucius’s hand and kicked towards him, hard. He landed right between the legs and grinned to himself as he snatched Lucius wand and pointed it towards Snape.

“Step the fuck away from her.” Sirius snarled towards Snape who was circling Marlene like a hawk, one hand pressed hard on her hand that was outstretched towards her wand.

“Or you’ll do what? Don’t have James to save you now do you.” Snape turned to look at him and smile as he pressed down and dug his foot into her hand. Marlene let out a blood curdling scream that echoed around the room. Before he could even think, Sirius had yelled out a curse he thought he’d never use on another living soul.

“Crucio!”

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

Lily and Y/N reached the Potter’s in record time, though Y/N wasn’t sure if she might have begun to drop in and out of consciousness as Lily apparated her in sections across different towns.

“James open up, it’s me!”

“What do I call you when we’re alone.”

“Christ almighty, Lilypad, now let us in!”

“Us?” James echoed as he unlocked the door and Lily powered through past him and into the living room with Y/N chuckling beside her.

“Good to know you have your sense of humour.” Lily rolled her eyes and got Y/N comfortable on the couch, “James, can you call St Mungos?”

“St Mungos? What’s going on?” James followed them into the living room and sat next to the fire, grabbing some floo and yelling “St Mungos!”

“This is St Mungos for magical ailments and injuries, what can we help with today.” A false sounding voice came from the fire.

“Y/N Y/L/N, previous patient, going through – Lily you haven’t told me what’s happening yet?”

“She’s getting headaches and keeps fainting, has been coming on over a few days.”

“Please wait a few moments,” the voice called again, “Your concerns are of utmost importance to us.”

“Lovely,” Lily grumbled, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just need to get some rest, they said this would happen sometimes.” Y/N murmured, closing her eyes as she lay back on the couch. It felt like there were flashing lights pulsating into her brain, thrumming on her veins. She just wanted to fall asleep for a week.

A new voice came from the fireplace, a male one, familiar sounding.

“Whilst this is definitely commonplace for anyone who has gone through bodily trauma, we want to keep a close eye on it all the same.”

“Is there anything we can do?” James was quieter this time, as if she couldn’t hear him as he sat a metre away.

“She should rest, not do anything strenuous, drink lots of water – honestly there’s not much more to do than that, unless you have some numbing potions for the pain. If it lasts longer than a few days, and if any fever or more intense symptoms come up then send word again.”

“Ok, thanks.”

The light dimmed in the room and Y/N presumed that the face had disappeared from the fireplace. There was a few moments of silence before Lily and James spoke. They were likely having a conversation with expressions only to avoid scaring her. The pain had eased with her eyes shut, but she was still getting painful throbs across her neck and temple, and there was light bursting behind her eyes in pulses.

“I don’t know whats going on there, but it sounds like I won’t die, and I would really love one of those pain destroying potion whatevers,” Y/N mumbled, her voice soft from the effort.

“Yeah of course, I’ll bring you upstairs, Lil can you get the –“

“Yep, on it.”

Y/N felt arms wrap around her and then suddenly pull her upwards, carrying her presumably up towards the guest bedroom. She felt like sinking downwards into his arms until she was asleep, but the pain kept bringing her back up to the surface.

Eventually James lay her on her bed, pulled off her shoes and pulled up the blankets so they were covering her properly. Soft padding heading towards her bed indicated that Lily had followed them up.

“Here, sit up for a second,” Lily helped Y/N pull herself up and began pouring things into her throat. Y/N coughed at the coldness of the potion trickling down, but it quickly began to numb most of her body and she felt heavy and tired… so tired…

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Sirius hissed, pain coursing through every vein, every muscle, every tiny particle that could have made up his body. He’d long since trained himself not to react, but he was sure his eyes were betraying him, bulging out and searching for Marlene who he heard scream moments before, but it was fading away as if they were dragging her somewhere else. Get the fuck up, now, do it, NOW.

He felt the pain ease slightly as whoever was casting took a moment before casting again and he took it, using every inch of strength he had left in his body. It felt like he was made of water, each limb reforming into flesh and bone as he pulled out his wand and cast across the room. Flames burst from each corner of the room, the pain easing almost completely as it did, the caster yelling loudly across from him. Sirius swung around to where he heard the noise, spotting Snape and flicking his wand towards him.

Snape was momentarily caught off guard but dodged out of the way and threw a spell back at him.

“Protego!” Sirius gasped, his feet slipping against the carpet as he edged towards the door and away from the fire.

“Don’t think you can get away from me so easily,” Snape growled at him, his eyes dark and menacing.

“If there’s anything in this life I’m counting on it’s being able to easily dodge you.” Sirius winked at him and threw a large stone like object into the room. Snape stepped back quickly, his arm outstretched – and then there was darkness, the room covered almost entirely in black dust. Sirius moved quickly, sprinting towards the door and sliding through it before Snape had a chance to fire off a spell in his direction.

He kept running down the hallway, listening closely for voices before he heard the snarl of Marlene’s voice behind him and he skidded to a stop and smashed into the door he could hear her from.

Lucius turned around quickly, glaring dangerously at Sirius but he shot a spell towards him instantly. Lucius blocked it with ease, but it gave Marlene the second’s distraction she needed to slide forwards off her chair and slam her feet into the backs of Lucius’s knees. He fell forwards and Sirius bounded over to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the nearest window.

“Ever done a moving apparition before?” Sirius said, unlatching the window and opening it.

“I’m always ready to try new things.” Marlene grimaced.

“Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

They jumped from the window, Sirius closing his eyes and spinning as fast as he could as he thought of home. Of being with Y/N.

Taglist:

@averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @sirius-lysad​ @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​ @gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom @hermionie-is-my-queen @demiwitch527   siobhanhope    delightfuldela     nadinissavage     fleurmoon    treestarrrrrrrr    @with1love1anu     @findzelda    @brighteyedmichelle    a-dorky-book-keeper   placeforcoolusername    damalseer   @approved-by-dentists @placeforcoolusername  @eury-dice3  @bookscoffeeandracoons   obsessedwithrandomthings  askyandquiteaview  leftstarfishavenue

[evabellasworld]

Death of Mandalore

Chapter 19

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

——————————————————————————————

Summary:  After murdering Chancellor Palpatine of the Galactic Republic, Vanya Doyvesky joined leagues with both Death Watch and Darth Maul, hoping to reclaim her Mandalorian warrior heritage. But with broken promises and betrayal against Death Watch and Maul’s crime syndicate, the former Mandalorian Jedi had to choose the right path not only for her but for Clan Doyvesky as well.

————————————————————————————

Peeking behind the door, Vanya noticed the corridors were all clear, turning to Katrina and Maria. Though there was nothing but furniture that stood there, along with paintings that were hanging on the walls, she sensed something was amiss.

“Looks like the coast is clear, for now,” she notified underneath her breath. “But we’ll have to proceed with caution, just in case.”

“Alright,” Katrina bobbed her head as they tiptoed in the hallways, without making a single sound. Her lips were shut as she peered left and right, praying that no one was watching every single movement. Maria did the same as well, her hands were placed on top of her utility belt.

Instead of the shorter route towards the hangar, Vanya had decided to take the long way, since there were no guards patrolling. She assumed that Maria was absent-minded to not assign anyone to police the same route they were taking, but now, she is thankful that they could escape from the tyranny of the two brothers.

In a few hours, she would be a free woman. Free from the Jedi Order, free from Death Watch, free from Maul, and free from the Force. All these while, she was bound to the rules, where she had to sacrifice parts of herself in order to please everyone around her. She misses Lira and Obi-Wan, who were her whole universe. With one dead and the other one walking away, she is all alone in her journey, except for her family, Mama, Papa, Katrina, Maria, Alejandro, Estella, Marsha, and Sergei.

“So Vanya,” Katrina whispered. “Where are we going? What are we going to do after we leave this planet?”

“Well, we’re picking up Mama and Papa from our house, and then we depart to Coruscant to pick up a friend of mine,” she put into words. “And after that, we head to the Outer Rim Territories, where the Empire nor Maul have any jurisdiction at all.”

“Oh, who is that friend of yours?” Katrina dimpled, covering her mouth.

“Her name is Sohee,” her cheeks turned pink. “She’s another close friend of mine, and I’m planning to take her with us since Coruscant isn’t a safe place to live anymore.”

“Are you sure she’s a close friend of yours?” Maria crossed her arms. “Judging by the way you mentioned her name, it seems that you both are more than just close friends.”

Vanya rolled her eyes. “Whatever, just don’t embarrass me in front of her.”

“Oh, we won’t embarrass you in front of your friend,” the youngest Doyvesky emphasised, chortling to herself. “Besides, I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to see you again.”

Shielding her face with her hands, Vanya ignored her sister’s tease when she heard footsteps from afar, widening her eyes. “Guys, someone’s coming,” she warned them, dragging them behind one of the pillars. All three of them were huddled together as they eyed the commando, who had a weapon in his grip.

“I thought you said that this area is clear,” Katrina narrowed her eyes at Vanya.

“It was, actually,” she replied, in a flat tone. “Until this guy showed up. I mean, shouldn’t he be guarding elsewhere, Maria?”

“Yeah, he was supposed to guard the other side of the palace,” Maria lifted her shoulders. “Then again, maybe the orders must have changed without notifying me or something.”

“So what do we do?” Katrina huffed. “We can’t just sit here forever. Maul and Almec will be suspicious if we’re gone for too long.”

Taking a deep breath, Vanya closed her eyes and reached out to the Force as the guard slowly approached their hiding spot. Then, a loud clank was heard from afar, prompting him to head towards the sound. Maria took a peek and breathed in relief as the coast was finally clear. “Thank goodness he’s gone,” she wiped the top of her helmet. “Now can we go? Mama and Papa must be worried sick at home.”

Vanya bobbed her head. “You’re right, we should go before sunrise,” she acknowledged, pacing hastily at the corridors. “We don’t have much time on our side.”

Katrina and Maria tailed behind her as their hearts were drumming, feeling as if a thousand eyes were staring at them, waiting for them to fall like a helpless prey. Once a place of peace, Mandalore is now a lion’s den for the three of them, where they could no longer thrive like they used to.

As they reached the door that leads to the hangar, they were both in glee as Vanya worked on the control panels while they watched her back. In a few seconds, they will no longer be associated with Death Watch or Maul, just Clan Doyvesky. None of them wish to leave their homes, but there were no other choices.

The hangar bay unlocked and there it was, an unused Kom'rk-class fighter/transport parked in front of them. Vanya’s eyes crinkled as she and her sisters ran towards the ship, without even looking back. As the three sisters were about to board the ship, the former Jedi felt an icy presence surrounding her, making her freeze on the spot.

“Vanya, why are you standing there?” Maria asked, noticing her strange behaviour. “Is everything alright?”

Her lips tremored. “I sense a disturbance in the Force,” she fumbled for words, as she turned around and saw Maul and Savage stood there, their yellowish eyes staring into her soul. “Leaving so soon, Master Jedi?”

Shielding both Katrina and Maria who was behind her, she gazed at them icily, her hands reaching for her lightsaber behind her dress. “We don't need you anymore,” spat Vanya. “After reaching our final decision, the alliance between Clan Doyvesky and Shadow Collective has expired, effective immediately.”

“After everything we have done for you?” he invoked a question. “And you're just going to leave us when we were this close into achieving greatness together? Clearly, you’ve lost your marbles, Master Doyvesky.”

“You've done nothing but manipulate me into fighting by your side. You've got my sister killed, you've broken my friendship with Obi-Wan, and you murdered the Duchess in cold blood. You don't deserve the throne, let alone rule Mandalore.”

“It seems that you’re forgetting what had actually happened earlier,” Maul stepped closer to her, prompting her to grab both her sister's hands. “From what I recalled, Vizsla not only murder Vasilia, but also thrown all of you in jail. If my brother and I didn't free you from your chains, you wouldn't be standing here today, Master Jedi.”

“Regardless of what you want me to think, I'm taking my sister's to a safer place, where we don't have to do your dirty work anymore,” asserted Vanya. “I will not tolerate whatever you’re bullshitting me and I don’t want anything to do with you or the Shadow Collective anymore.”

As she turned around and headed inside the ship, only to be dragged by the brothers from both Katrina and Maria's arms. “Ori'vod!” Maria cried as she was about to charge towards them, only to be stopped by Katrina, who was shaking her head.

Releasing herself from their clutches, she drew her lightsaber while the brothers did the same with their double-bladed swords. Noticing that her sister is outmatched, Maria tossed her beskar spear towards her. “Vanya, catch.”

Catching the spear with her left arm, she thanked her as she faced Maul and Savage in front of her, letting them squeal through their throats. “I have enough of your lies, and you will pay for your treachery against me.”

As she let them go, Maul and Savage panted as they held their ribs, growling at her. Readying their weapons, they bolted at her. Vanya grazed the floor with her right arm and blocked their attacks from both sides, before releasing them from her stronghold.

Savage was the first to break her grip and used the Force to push her, but she managed to thrust him back when Maul dashed towards her. Taking advantage of the situation, Savage struck her on the ground with his horns, leaving a small drop of blood on her dress.

Letting out a cackle, Vanya tugged the younger brother into her position, before shoving him towards the wall, leaving a tiny crack. Their weapons then collided as she deflected their blows,  grazing her left cheek. Feeling her wound with her fingertips, she smirked as she turned to Maul and pounded him at a nearby starfighter, decking him out.

With only her and Savage left standing, he got onto his knees as he swung his red blades towards her, prompting Vanya to avoid his assaults. Igniting her lightsaber and her spear, she blocked his strikes as he roared at her, attempting to exert her backwards. She propelled from his gripe and cornered him at a dead end, jabbing his eyes with her spear.

Rubbing his eyes, he was about to guard himself when Vanya quickly stabbed him on his chest, causing smokes of green to release from his body. “Brother!” Maul exclaimed, as he regained his consciousness and rushed to his side, holding his hands.

“Brother,” Savage croaked, looking at him for one last time. “I am an unworthy apprentice. I'm not like you. I never was.”

He bared his teeth as Vanya paced towards him, with a wide smile painted on her face. “Now you know how Obi-Wan felt when you impaled Satine in your own arms,” she sneered, pointing her lightsaber at his neck. “And now, you will feel his pain that you made him go through in the throne room.”

He yelled at the top of his lungs as he charged towards her, clashing his weapons with hers. Katrina and Maria's teeth chattered as they watched their older sister brawl viciously with the Sith Lord, hoping that she would make it out alive.

Ramming Maul towards the ground, Vanya raised her weapon in the air when the former sprung up and impaled her on the torso, much to her surprise. Both her lightsaber and spear slipped from her arms as she fell onto her knees, her mouth wide opened. Maul gleamed as he leaned closer to her ears. “History will always remember you as a traitor to Mandalore, and the Republic.”

Falling on the floor, she gasped as she saw Katrina and Maria from a distance, tears flowing from her eyes. Her dreams had shattered in front of her whimpering eyes. Her dreams to be free from the strings that controlled her were gone. Her dreams to start a family with Sohee were gone. Her dreams to reunite with Mama and Papa were gone. Everything she had was taken away from her, though Vanya knows that she deserved her shortcomings. I'm sorry, vod. I'm a failure to not only my clan, but to my best friend and my ad’ika.

“We have to go now,” Katrina sniffled as she closed the ship door, and soared in the air. Maria sat on the floor as she stared at the door, her arms wrapped around herself.

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Additional Warnings: Teasing, Fingering, Spanking, just Jin being a dirty little lover (LOL)

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,795

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​

Chapter 37: Awake

“It’s not that I believe it, but that I want to try holding out...”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

The rain fell in heavy torrents outside. Seokjin sat at his desk, elbows resting on the surface with his fingers pressing together. If anyone happened to enter his office at that moment, they quickly vacated the room without disturbing him. He was usually kind, impressionable, and full of answers to the many questions that were thrown at him. He had a gentle smile or soft reprimand prepared for any situation.

Kim Seokjin’s current expression, however, would have frightened anyone who dared to look upon it.

His eyes, normally bright, were exceptionally dark and fierce. Full lips were pressed together in a semi-thin line as brows furrowed harshly over his eyes. The only sound resonating through the room was the steady ticking of the clock hanging over his bookshelf. A pin could drop in the room and it would have sounded like a gunshot fired off.

Why?

It was a single question that continued to bounce around inside of Seokjin’s head for days. No, weeks. He knew that there would be unrest in the criminal underworld upon their departure. It was a given. Gangnam and Yongsan were not small territories. All the other district heads were salivating at the idea that Golden Jackal turf was up for auction – metaphorically speaking. There would be no bidding for those areas. It would be an all-out war.

What disturbed Seokjin the most, the nagging concern that continued to plague his waking hours, was why no one seemed bothered into making a move. None of them. Not even Dongwook turned his head in the direction of those two territories. Something was brewing under the surface, far below the sight of the normal world. The underground was horrifying without all the clichés. It was dirty and festering like a wound that had been allowed to become infected.

His eyes narrowed slightly. …why isn’t anyone moving?

Seokjin’s calculations were normally spot on – perfect to the point of it being eerie. His call to hold off opening the hotel to timing down when, exactly, the others would need to pull out of the game. Namjoon and he spent many late nights figuring all the ins and outs to the tiniest of details. The Golden Jackals were able to succeed up to this point thanks to them both combining their efforts to see through every move and calculate all countermeasures.

However, it was clear the Jade Fangs were preparing for things far in advance. He recalled Namjoon’s face after the encounter he’d had with Shownu. As far back as Seokjin could remember, he’d never seen Namjoon reveal such an expression. There was anger, of course, but something akin to uncertainty that, had any of the others been privy to it, would have lost all motivation to continue down the path they were currently on. They hadn’t made a mistake. Seeing either Hoseok, Namjoon, or even himself waver would have made all their work disintegrate into a puff of smoke.

They couldn’t let that happen.

The shrill sound of the phone shattered Seokjin’s thought process. He cut his eyes toward it, watching the red light flash with each ring. Reaching out, he picked it up from the receiver.

“This is Kim Seokjin,” he answered calmly.

“Oh, Hyung,” Jimin said on the other line. There was a tone-shift that Seokjin instantly recognized. Jimin was uncomfortable with something, but he was unsure of whether or not to tell Seokjin about it.

Seokjin sighed. “What is it, Jimin-ah?”

Jimin hesitated, as if trying to piece together the situation he was dealing with at that exact moment. “You, uh…you have a guest?”

It was a question. Seokjin frowned, his eyes lowering to his cell phone to see that he’d received a text from Anastasia. He’d given her the day off and now he was regretting it. She would have chased this person off the premises, of that he was most certain. He sighed, unable to stave off the grin at the little kitty emoji she’d sent him, along with the words “Fighting” at the end.

“Who is it?”

“…it’s Wonho Hyung.”

He blinked, his gaze lifting to the doors to his office. No. It was a good thing that Anastasia wasn’t in the office now. Seokjin recalled the look on Wonho’s face when he’d first laid eyes on his financial advisor.

Dissolved or not, The Ice Claw of the Golden Jackals would not stand for it.

“Send him in,” Seokjin said finally. He could hear Jimin beginning to protest but he silenced him with a harsh click of his tongue. “Send him in, Jimin-ah.” He hung up the phone, promptly ending the conversation.

Rising from his seat, Seokjin made his way toward the side bar in his office. He didn’t bother turning his head as the doors opened and closed. Instead, he focused on preparing the drinks for both himself and his “guest”. As he poured the gin into the glass, he heard a familiar chuckle to his right.

“You remembered,” gruffed Wonho, his shadow casting itself just over Seokjin’s shoulder, “I’m impressed.”

Turning slightly, he met Wonho’s gaze – the man grinning easily as his lip piercing glinted from the fluorescent lighting of the room. Seokjin held the glass of gin out to him, waiting for it to leave his fingers before returning his attention to the liquor decanters. Dropping two cubes of ice into a tumbler, he let the amber liquid fall into the container – the distinct smell of scotch filling his nares.

“Who could forget your horrible choice of booze, Wonho-yah?” Seokjin turned back to Wonho and the two of them clinked their glasses together.

He gestured to the lounge area of his office where they had a clear view of the city from a large set of bay windows. Seokjin pressed a button on the wall, allowing the curtains to part so the lights of the city could fill the space between them. They both leaned along the frame, their bodies opposite of each other, not really paying their drinks any real mind. Or the city.

Seoul bustled with life below them. Cars zoomed past; pedestrians milled about – heading to unknown destinations. But the noise of the city never reached them.

There was only the sound of the clock ticking away.

Seokjin lifted his drink up to his lips, taking a slow sip to savor the smooth burn that slid down his throat. He didn’t have to look up to know that Wonho was sizing him up. But like always, Seokjin’s body gave nothing away.

“You’re not even going to ask me why I’m here, Jin Hyung,” Wonho said, amusement clear in his tone. It wasn’t a question.

The corner of Seokjin’s mouth lifted in a half grin as he continued to stare out across the cityscape. “Should I?”

“You’re not the least bit curious.”

This time, he let his gaze shift to meet Wonho’s. “Again, should I?”

Wonho’s grin widened, causing the chain connecting his lip ring to his earring to move. “It’s because you already know why.”

Seokjin shrugged. “This is becoming a one-sided conversation rather quickly, don’t you think?” He narrowed his eyes to Wonho ever so slightly. “So, why don’t you do us both a favor and get to the point of this little visit already, hm?”

For a while, neither of them said a word. All they did was smile at each other. Then Wonho began to chuckle; a low and rumbling sound. Seokjin followed suit with a slow building laugh of his own. Finally, both men were laughing loudly, their shoulders practically vibrating from the gesture.

He felt the movement before seeing it. The two men dropped their drinks, the shattering of glass lost to them as their bodies seemed to move of their own accord. Seokjin’s body shifted to the right just as Wonho’s arm thrust out to land a hit to his shoulder. Jerking his elbow up, he knocked into Wonho’s forearm and took a step forward at the same time he did. Seokjin’s arm shot out, his hand immediately clamping over Wonho’s throat seconds after he felt the blow to his ribs. The muscles in his biceps flexed, forcing Wonho’s weight to the left until the other man’s head was pressed against the glass window.

Seokjin winced at the pain blossoming at his core, causing the other man to chuckle, albeit strained from the hold the older man had on him.

“Y-You’ve gotten a little slower, J-Jin Hyung.” Wonho was in obvious discomfort, but still felt like cracking jokes.

Grinning, he dug his fingers into Wonho’s flesh just a bit more, silencing the noises coming from him. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know.” Seokjin felt Wonho grab at his wrist, attempting to loosen the hold he had on his neck. “Falling in love has made you weak.”

The smirk fell from Seokjin’s face, as if Wonho slapped it away. Replacing the momentary look of shock was absolute rage. He squeezed harder, watching the other man’s face change to a concerning shade of red. Seokjin took a step forward, his chest just barely pressing up against Wonho’s.

“Come again?” Wonho coughed against his grasp but Seokjin showed no signs of easing up. “You wanna run that by me one more time, Lee Wonho?”

Instead of answering, the younger man simply laughed. That simple action was enough for Seokjin as realization washed over him like a bucket of ice water. After everything he’d heard from the others, he’d allowed his guard to slip for even a second. And Seokjin was infuriated at the victorious expression painting Wonho’s features.

Goddammit, he thought, the vein at his neck pulsing in time with his ire. He glared at Wonho, wanting in that moment to give into impulse and smash him through the window. Fucking Jack Rabbit…

Taking a step back, he watched as Wonho began to cough and massage his neck. There was a distinct crunch of glass under them as they shuffled over the broken shards. Neither of them paid it any mind. Not when it was obvious that the trap, small as it was, had been sprung.

“It’s just like I thought,” the other man finally managed to croak out, a strained chuckle tacked on the end of his words, “and I told Changkyun-ah what would happen.”

Seokjin pressed a hand to his side, unable to ignore the ache of pain there any longer. “Whatever game you think you’re playing, you need to stop.”

Again, Wonho laughed. “If you weren’t going to finish the game, you never should have started playing in the first place.”

“What’d you say?”

“Did you forget, Jin Hyung? When you first showed up in Seoul all those years ago? Before the Golden Jackals even came around?” Wonho was smiling, but his tone was full of barbs. “You all turned down the offer to become a Jade Fang. One of Changkyun’s people. After getting an in and obtaining all the knowledge you needed, you spat in our faces and left to form your own group.”

Seokjin didn’t know whether to be outraged or laugh. He chose a mixture of both. “Did you think we were going to become Im Changkyun’s lackeys? ” he asked, his brows raising slightly. “Have you lost your mind?”

“We offered you a place at our table—”

“And we didn’t want it, Wonho,” Seokjin cut in, not sure of what to make of this conversation now, “we never did.”

“That’s fine,” he said easily, strolling past Seokjin, “and since Hoseok clearly doesn’t want to join hands with Changkyun, then there’s nothing else for us to really talk about.”

Seokjin turned around just as he saw Wonho heading for the door.

“Ya, Lee Wonho!”

The younger man paused, his fingers resting on the door handle. Wonho glanced over his shoulder to meet Seokjin’s gaze, his smile remaining.

“You better know where the line is.” Seokjin’s eyes narrowed severely. “Don’t even dream of crossing it.”

Instead of replying, Wonho’s grin grew, and then he exited the office – leaving Seokjin alone to feel suffocated by the silence.

…it’s almost time.

He didn’t wait for Anastasia to greet him with her warm, bubbly smile like she so often did when he came to see her. He wouldn’t let her take his coat or offer him a drink. He hadn’t bothered with teasing remarks like he usually did when they were behind closed doors.

Completely ignoring the house slippers, he kicked his shoes off in the entryway and hoisted Anastasia into his arms. She flailed, her hands pressing into his shoulders as she made every attempt to get him to slow down. In ten seconds, he already had her back pressed against the window of her apartment – his arms taking comfort in the cold emitting from the surface. The deep desire was building in Seokjin’s lips, completely overtaking her own.

Tasting her was a sin he willingly committed every chance he could get.

Whatever words Anastasia had were gone and Seokjin didn’t want to talk. He wanted to feel everything; feel her. If she wanted to talk, he would simply rob her of the ability to speak until he was ready for any kind of conversation.

“S-Seokjin,” she managed to puff out when he’d released her mouth, “w-wait a minute.”

Her mewl of protest halted him momentarily, his dark eyes boring into her deep seas of green. Anastasia looked like a deer caught in headlights and he bit back a grin. Instead, his thumb slowly traced the line of her brow all the way to her lips. Tucking the tip of it between the rosy buds, now swollen from his affection, he leaned in to further crowd her space.

“Y-You haven’t eaten yet,” Anastasia stammered, her back pressing further into the window as he, too, took a step into her bubble. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I am.” His answer came out huskier than he’d intended, causing her cheeks to flush further.

She tried to push against him, but he didn’t move a single inch.

“T-Then let me cook already!”

Seokjin shook his head, leaning down so that his lips were barely brushing across hers. “Dinner can wait.”

Before she could protest, he was already dipping his hands under her baggy sweatshirt – his cold hands instantly warmed by her soft skin nestled beneath. She yelped from his touch and he leaned forward, whispering apologies before sealing his mouth over hers in a heated kiss. Caressing her stomach, he slid his hands around her back until his knuckles brushed over the waistband of her flannel pajama pants. He dipped them beneath, grabbing handfuls of her ass in his palms and lifting her up and against him.

She wrapped her legs around his waist without having to be asked and Seokjin grinned, giving her a good squeeze as he moved – legs slowly ascending the stairs leading to her bedroom loft. When his knees knocked against the edge of the bed, he held Anastasia against him as he leaned back, his hands moving to pull her sweatshirt completely off her torso. Goosebumps immediately peppered across her skin and he began to kiss her collar, his tongue sliding across to her shoulder until he was able to bite into the meat of the muscle there.

Groaning softly, he gently lowered her body down. Just before she was about to reach the bed, however, Seokjin pinched at the back of her calves, causing her grip to release him as she unceremoniously flopped onto the mattress. Her face screwed up in obvious displeasure, but Seokjin didn’t allow her time to issue a complaint. His hands were already at work, gripping onto the waist of her pants and yanking them off in one clean motion. Anastasia’s eyes widened and she attempted to scramble up the bed, away from him, but he was fine with that.

He preferred the hunt.

Seokjin shed his jacket and blazer with little effort on his part, leaning down to remove his socks while maintaining his gaze with the beautiful woman he’d become attached to more and more with every passing day they spent together. Even when they weren’t together, he was enraptured with her and there was an angry imp inside of him cursing Wonho for seeing it clearly when Seokjin, himself, had not bothered to give it a voice.

Love.

“Are you running from me?” he asked while slowly removing his tie. “Huh, Anastasia?”

She looked gob smacked by his question – as if she truly couldn’t believe what was coming out of his mouth. To be fair, he couldn’t blame her. He’d hardly been this aggressive. Ever.

Seokjin snatched her by her ankle, yanking her roughly toward him. There was a half cry, half laugh that exploded from Anastasia. He loved her laugh and he loved knowing that he was the reason for it. Once her legs were dangling on either side of him, he quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt and tossed it to the floor without a second glance. His bare torso was exposed and he could feel the chill running through the air. He pouted slightly while Anastasia seemed almost lost at looking at his body, as if appreciating it for the first time.

“You’re not poor, you know?” He watched her blink up at him, like she’d been knocked out of a trance. He slid his belt off and it, too, hit the floor. “Why do you keep being cheap about the heat?”

Anastasia’s face contorted into child-like outrage. “Ya, Kim Seokjin!”

Seokjin let his hand sail down to her underwear, his palm cupping the warmth that cropped there. He let a middle finger press into the fabric, feeling the nub that was starting to throb and grow wet under his touch. Whatever rebuttals she had were silenced as he rubbed slow, agonizing circles around her clit over the surface of her panties. He could smell her, wanting nothing more than to cover his entire body in that scent.

As he continued to rub circles around her nub, distracting her, his other hand reached down and pulled her underwear completely off her hips. She gasped, her warmth exposed to the frigid air. Seokjin dropped his trousers and groaned at the ache in his loins – his erection fighting against the confines of his boxer briefs. Anastasia reached out to grasp his forearms, unsure of what he was going to do next but silently letting him know that she was ready.

Grabbing for her waist, he flipped her over until her ass bounced in the air – watching her honey wheat locks escape from the updo she’d tied it in and spill over her back. His cold hands slid along the curve of her spine until his fingers flicked over the clasp of her bra – releasing the latch and watching the article flutter to the bed.

He watched her body shudder as she attempted to keep herself up on all fours, admiring the way her folds glistened. Her pale skin flushed and Seokjin already knew that she was becoming self-conscious. Tsking under his breath, he reached out to firmly smack her ass – watching it grow red where his hand was. Anastasia choked out a gasp, and he grinned as her fingers curled into the blankets.

“Are you acting shy? Hm?”

Anastasia whined. He knew she was unable to voice her tantrum to his outrageous question. He smacked her other ass cheek for good measure, eliciting soft, whining mewls from her.

“I’ve told you a million times already,” Seokjin whispered, his fingers sweeping down over her folds to catch the juices from her, “that you’re beautiful.”

He lifted his hand to his lips, swirling his tongue over the digits, making sure that she was watching. There was a hint of a smirk on her lips and Seokjin leaned forward, pressing his chest against her backside and feeling her velvet heat along his stomach. Shimmying out of his underwear, his erection sprung forward, rock hard and aching with desire that he knew only she could satisfy.

She knew it too.

Pressing his hand against her back, he forced her chest to rest along the bed so that her ass was up just a little bit higher. He curled inward, pressing his lips against her spine to trail kisses all the way down until he pressed his lips on both red marks on her ass. Soothing balms for the punishment he’d given her. Seokjin saw her reaching as far as she could towards the headboard, her hands finding the pillow and digging into the soft plush until her knuckles were ghostly white.

Grasping onto her hips with bruising force, Seokjin slid into her fully in one thrust – the world falling to a raw tilt that had his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Anastasia cried out in both pain and pleasure, his name falling from her lips like a litany to a deity that no longer existed but was desperately being summoned. He took his time sliding out of her, his tip just scarcely brushing along her folds, before pushing all the way in. The cadence was slow, deliberate, until he couldn’t take it anymore. The climb was harsh, nails raking along her pale skin as she continued to clutch with ferocity into the sheets and pillows – her voice muffled in the cotton while taking him every single time.

And when he couldn’t handle the pacing he was dragging them both through, when he knew she couldn’t handle it anymore, Seokjin increased speed – thrusting like a piston with precision. The spot that felt the best, the part that satisfied him, was finally within reach. He could feel her walls closing in around him, gripping with a need to keep him there – to continue hitting that spot.

So, he did.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

His chest fell across her back, their cries intermingling as their climax was reached together. Sweat soaked their bodies and the hot, musky scent of their sex filled the small space. Grasping onto her shoulders, Seokjin pulled them both to land on their sides. He stayed inside of her, the soft throb of her heat holding him there; tethering him in a way that he was in no rush to free himself from. Anastasia’s breathing eased out as he brushed her bangs away from her forehead affectionately, his other hand wrapping around her from underneath so he could keep his palm pressed between the cleft of her breasts – to feel her heartbeat.

When he was confident that she’d fallen into a light sleep, Seokjin pressed a kiss to her neck and then let his lips linger near the shell of her ear.

“…I love you.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 10

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 9: Kate and Tommy meet Alfie Solomons. 

           Kate did her best to support Tommy on their walk to the Yard. The sky was clouded so there wasn’t much light to go on. They were slow-moving with Kate trying to keep him upright and to make sure he didn’t fall or misstep on the uneven streets.

When they made it, Tommy opened the gate and staggered through the entrance. “Curly!” He called hoarsely. “Get that stuff for when their legs go lame.”

“Tommy?” Charlie looked aghast at the sight of his nephew. “They said you’d be in for another three weeks.” He pulled up a chair.

“I need to get on a boat to London, now.”

Kate frowned. “Tommy, you didn’t say anything about London. You need medical attention!”

“The lass is right, Tom, you’re burning up.” Charlie agreed.

Tommy just shook his head, the motion throwing him a bit off balance. “I need to sleep in the open air. Do you have a boat here?”

Kate ran a hand through her uncombed hair. She glanced behind her to where the gate was ajar. She could just go back home, get under the covers, leave Tommy to his own work. If he wanted to be a lunatic, he could do it on his own. But abandoning him didn’t feel right.

Coughing from Tommy brought her back to the conversation. “If I sleep all the way, it’s Camden Town we’re headed for.”

Kate helped him stand up. “Why are we going there?”

But he wasn’t ready to explain anything quite yet. “Tell Polly she’s in charge while I’m away. If I don’t come back, tell her she’s in charge for good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It stunk of canvas and cigars under the covered boat. But Kate knew she had to watch Tommy. He slept for a good deal of the trip, only stirring every so often when the boat rocked.

In the faint candlelight, she could finally take in his injuries. Nearly his entire face was swollen from the beating he’d taken. The way he slept too made it evident that he was sporting at least a few broken ribs.

Kate didn’t have much of a nurturing background but she felt she could at least get Tommy to last the few days it would take to get to London. She kept a cold cloth on his face to try and help his fever. Every few hours she tried to get him to wake for a drink of water. He was mostly incoherent until they were two days in.

He began to sit up for longer periods of time and could hold a better conversation with Kate. More than just mumbles and groans of pain.

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

“Here.” Kate handed him his cigarettes. “Halfway there, ‘least that’s what Curly says.”

“Thank you.” He replied quietly.

“So, can I finally know why I’m on a boat headed for London?” She sat down near him.

Tommy struck up a match and took a few puffs of his cigarette before answering. “Alfie Solomons.”

Kate recalled the Shelby boys telling her that name a long time ago. “He’s a bookie.” She remembered.

He nodded. “Ready to do business with him.”

“And why do you need me to come along?” None of it made much sense to her.

“He’s not just a bookie. He makes rum as well, so I’ve heard. And you know a bit more about the American market. Things he might be interested in knowing.”

“So, you want me to help you help him smuggle rum into the states?” She connected the dots. “And this couldn’t wait until you were healed?”

Tommy shook his head. “I’ve got men after me. After our trip to London, we’ve stirred the pot.”

Kate just sighed and shook her head with a smile. “I had a feeling you would. But I’m not one to tell you, ‘I told you so’.”

“That’s why I like you.” He paused to take a couple more drags of his cigarette. “So, you’ll help me?”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it?” She stood up, or at least as most as she could inside the boat, and grabbed a cloth. “Will you let me clean your cuts?”

“Best they don’t get infected.” Tommy lowered his cigarette and let her start to dab at the cuts on his face. “Fever’s going down so is the swelling in your eye.” She observed. “It’s full of blood though.” It was unsettling to see blood pooling around the striking color of his blue iris. “You just need to be careful.” She checked the cut on his cheek. “This is the deepest one.” She remarked.

“Will it scar?”

“Most likely. It might fade over time if you leave it alone.” Kate had her experience with scars over the years. Most of them she hid cleverly with clothes or makeup. But bare in front of the mirror, she looked like she’d been to war. She went back over to wash the blood from the cloth. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” Tommy grunted as he laid back down. “Not yet.”

“Get some sleep then.”

~~~~~~~~~`

“Tommy!” Curly called from the helm of the ship. “We’re in Camden Town now!”

Kate emerged from beneath the canvas with Tommy behind her. She smelled the smoke and soot that was common to London. Birmingham was bleak but London was teeming with ill will. She could feel it in the air.

The second they docked; men were there to question them. Tommy explained they were there to see Alfie Solomons. The men, all wearing hats or yarmulke ushered them to a large warehouse building. People were going in and out, busy with shipments.

At the front doors, Kate and Tommy were greeted by a young man with curly hair. He instantly went about patting Tommy down to check him for weapons.

He glanced at Kate but she simply crossed her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t even ask if I were you.” She warned.

“Put ‘em down, Ollie.” A rough voice came booming down the hall.

Kate glanced around Ollie to see a broad-shouldered man heading towards him. He certainly didn’t look the part of a large gang boss. Wearing a simple, disheveled linen shirt, vest, and an apron around his waist, Alfie Solomons looked like a common worker at first glance. But Kate had learned from her time as a courtesan to look beyond clothing. She’d been taught by some wise women that anyone could dress the part of a gentleman. The real money and the real identity were down to the details.

Alfie wore rings on nearly every single finger. He had a gold bracelet on his wrist. A gold pocket watch was attached to his waist. Glasses hung from his neck on a chain that looked like pure silver.

Wealth aside, he had the tells of a very dangerous man. Tattoos inked both of his hands. A large scar ran down his right cheek. He carried himself like a soldier. Just as Tommy did.

“You always bring women along to meetings with you?” Alfie raised an eyebrow.

“Miss Rosseau’s a part of me company and I think her knowledge could be very useful to you, Mr. Solomons,” Tommy replied. “I think you’ll see that she’s not any ordinary woman.”

Mildly interested Alfie nodded and beckoned them over. “Want to take a look at my bakery? We bake all sorts. We bake the brown bread, the white bread.”

Kate took stock of what they were dealing with. Beyond Alfie’s strength on the tracks, the distillery wasn’t anything to snub. The warehouse was stocked full of barrels but she had a feeling production could increase if the market allowed them to. Tommy was right, Alfie’s rum could be ready to ship out to America any moment.

“Try some bread, love?” Alfie redirected Kate’s attention to a table with bottles.

“I’ll have the white.” She agreed.

“Ah, see there. There’s a woman who knows her booze, aye?” He chuckled and handed her the glass. “C’mon then.” He continued them on to his office.

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

Kate didn’t want to make it too obvious that she was worried about Tommy’s health as they sat down in front of Alfie’s desk. He was in a much better condition but he was still limping and she could tell his ribs were bothering him. Still, she knew he needed to maintain a strong image in front of the Camden Town boss. So, she tried to ignore it.

“Well.” Alfie sat down. “I’ve heard very bad, bad, bad, things ‘bout you Birmingham people. Aye?” He tutted. “And you, love, don’t know where you fucking came from with that accent, right, but you’re hanging ‘round with them, ain’t ya? You a gypsy like him then? They have gypsies in America?”

Tommy spoke before Kate had the chance. “Kate and I came to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.”

Something changed in Alfie’s expression. His brow furrowed and his sea-colored eyes flicked to her. “Kate, is it?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Funny, that is. Yeah…I’ve got ears everywhere in London, right? I hear things. Things I need, things I don’t. Don’t fucking matter, I remember every bit of it. Just in case, think that’s savvy, innit?” Alfie ran a hand over his beard as if he were pondering something deeply. “And there’ve been rumors, whispers ‘bout a man from America. An Italian who’s looking for someone.”

Kate’s blood ran cold and she fought the instinct to run. Unsure if it was a trap, she subtly glanced to Tommy. He seemed a little uneasy by where the conversation was going too. But he touched her chair as a gesture of assurance.

“Pretty blonde woman named Kate Lynch. Should be living in Birmingham. Says she’s American by birth.” Alfie continued.

She smiled at him. “My last name isn’t Lynch, Mr. Solomons.”

“Oh, but we can all change our names. Can’t we? To, er I dunno, avoid coppers, debts, jilted lovers, aye?” Alfie’s eyes narrowed. “So, what was it then? You leave ‘im at the altar? Ran away with his kid? Ran away with another man?”

“I think she’s unsure of what you’re talking about, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy stepped in.

“Well, see the thing is, you walk into me office, right, with a woman who’s wanted by Italians.” Alfie retorted firmly.

“She’s got ties to the American markets. Men who would be interested in your rum.”

Alfie fiddled with the handle of one of his drawers. “So that’s what you’re tryna sell me then?”

“My services could be offered to help smuggle your rum anywhere you’d like. I propose we join forces.”

“Fuck off.” Alfie rolled his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair. “No! Fucking ridiculous.”

“Mr. Solomons.” Tommy leaned forward. Kate noticed him wince. “Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent, the rest is from the tracks. I’m offering you two solutions. You expand your market to America with your rum with the help of Miss Rosseau. I’d help with that as well. Me other solution deals with your biggest problem.”

Alfie glared back at Tommy. The man continued to glance at the drawer to his right. The movements were making Kate uneasy and she subtly moved her hand into her purse, wrapping her fingers around her pistol.

Tommy continued. “I know you offer a deal or death. But Mr. Sabini is running all your bookies off your courses and closing down premises that take your rum. No one trusts your protection anymore.”

Alfie pointed at him. “You’re the bloke who shot Billy Kimber, right?” He diverted the conversation. “You did, you fucking betrayed him, mate. So it would be entirely appropriate to do what I’m thinking in me head right now.”

That was an open threat to Kate and she tensed up.

Tommy wasn’t swayed. “I can offer you a hundred armed men and a new relationship with the police.”

“Intelligence,” Alfie ignored him. “Is a very valuable thing, innit? Usually, it comes far too fucking late.” He shifted his left hand down and whipped out a gun.

Kate reacted before Tommy could even breathe. She took out her gun and pointed it back at Alfie. Her heart was beating in her chest but her hand was steady.

It wasn’t clear on Alfie’s face whether he was expecting her to be armed or not. But he didn’t back down either. “So, she’s just your purse for weapons, is she, mate? Men don’t want to frisk a woman so you give her a gun.”

“I’m not an object,” Kate replied through her teeth. “I’m just smart enough to know when I need a gun.”

Alfie’s mustache twitched and he cocked the gun. “See, I could’ve already shot him. Right in the fucking head. Then what? You’d shoot me, aye? You’re really that loyal to ‘im already? What happens after that? Me men come in, maybe they shoot you. Maybe they take you and hand you over to the Italians. I know who you are. You’ve got an American mobster after you and who knows how much he’ll pay to have you returned.”

“I won’t be sold to anyone.” She hissed and cocked her gun in response.

Alfie just let out a chuckle and set his gun down. “You’d give me men hell, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t make it out alive, granted, but you’d try to kill anyone in your path.”

Kate slowly lowered her gun but kept it near. She looked at Tommy and saw that his nose had started to bleed. She reached into her purse for a handkerchief and gave it to him. She cleared her throat and looked back at Alfie. “If Italians are looking for me, so be it. They’ve been hunting me down for years, they won’t succeed. But for you, Mr. Solomons. What’s a bigger way to say fuck you than to work with someone they’ve been unable to get for so long? I have contacts in America, bootleggers, police, bosses. No one in the operation will be caught. No one will interfere with it. I don’t need a big cut of the money. The majority of it can go to you and Tommy. The only thing I ask for is protection. Contrary to what Tommy says, I trust your protection.”

Alfie studied her, stroking his beard. “So, you’d trust that I wouldn’t sell you out.”

Kate didn’t flinch, keeping her eyes right on him. “Every man who has tried is dead now.” She replied coolly. “So, I suppose that’s your decision.”

The Jewish man chuckled. “Draw up a contract then, Mr. Shelby. Include Miss Rosseau in it and we’ll discuss matters further.” He reached over to shake Tommy’s hand.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​

Masterlist

If you asked to be tagged in this fic and I forgot, just let me know!

[buttered-ghost-toast]

Listen, if you don't fill out all of those numbers and tell me everything about your MC I'm going to feel robbed

Oh geez, fam! ...aight. That took me a minute. But below you will find out more about my girl, Niri! 

1.      What is their favourite food?—

Cheeseburgers and carrots. 

2.       Do they have a fear of an animal? If so, what animal? –

Not a fan of snakes, lizards, frogs, sharks.

3.       What do they wear to bed? –

Shorts and a t-shirt. Sometimes nothing at all!! That had to stop when she moved into the HoL though. Brothers poppin’ in at all hours gettin’ an eyeful. Lucifer was upset. 

4.       Do they like cuddling?—

1000000000%. Niri’s a big ol’ cuddle bug. Asmo’s all about it. So is Beel. 

5.       Do they have a secret handshake with anyone? -- With Astaroth. It’s quite elaborate and they only ever do it when they decide to get up to trouble.

 6.       What do they look like? – 

She cute if I may say so myselffff (don’t judge me, she’s a self insert hah!) Mid to slightly above average height for a human female, fairly toned. Brown eyes, mid-back length hair that’s brown at the root, fades to a teal and purple under layers. Sometimes her hair will fade to a light yellowy-green. She has the hookup for dye from Barbatos who likes to procure things for her from the human realm. She also has quite a few tattoos.

 7.       Do they like chocolate? –

Only dark. She’s allergic to additives in certain milk chocolates so she doesn’t eat it much. 

 8.      What are their good and bad traits?

Good: Helpful, kind, encouraging, quite a hard worker in any task given her.

Bad: Easily swept up into trouble by others, will prioritize naps over other stuff sometimes, awfully flirtatious which gets her in hot water with Lucifer because apparently lesser demons keep poppin’ by the house with gifts also HUMAN, DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT TO LORD DIAVOLO?! Oopsssssss~ Also, you know how Luci’s always doing the “MAAAAMMMOOOONNNNN…”…yeah, that’s almost always followed by “NIIIIIRIIIIIIIIII….”

 9.      Do they have any artistic talent?

Yes. She’s a musician so there’s that…and she likes to paint.

10.  What is their favourite room to be in, in the house they live in?

She likes the music room since the boys tend to spend quite a bit of time in there together, but she’s usually found in the kitchen making loads of food and baked goods…also, that’s where you’re more likely to find Beel, and she reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally likes Beel.

11.  Do they believe in luck?

To an extent. She believes that luck exists, but she thinks relying on it is a bit naïve.

12.  Can they do magic?

Like pull a rabbit out of a hat type thing? Yes. She picked up a few little tricks here and there from a friend who loves show magic. Def not the real stuff though.

13.  Do they believe in dragons?

She didn’t until she went to the Devildom. Not that they just have dragons hangin’ out all willy-nilly, but she’s heard stories from the brothers and others about dragons.

 14.  What is a pet peeve of theirs?

Rudeness and liars who don’t give up even after they’ve been caught in the lie. Also people who demand things of others as if they’re property and not living beings with feelings …this isn’t about Belphegor at all. Nope. She doesn’t have issues with him still.

15.  What was the last thing they cried about?

She was able to talk to all her bandmates at once for her weekly call home. They all just really miss each other, ok? It sucks that she has to lie to them about where she is because she knows they’re worried about her, but it was just nice to hear their voices.

16.  What is their sexuality?

Pan.

17.  Do they have a best friend? If so, who, and what makes them their best friend?

We’ll narrow this down to the Devildom. Niri gets along with everyone and literally loves all the beings she’s met and knows she could count on them for most anything, but there’s definitely a more solid feeling to her connection with Beelzebub. They sort of just get to be vulnerable and entirely open with one another and there is never judgement or ill will, even when Beel eats her secret snack stash…again.

 She’s kind of getting to that point with Astaroth as well, but she can sense he’s still a little guarded in certain aspects, and she’s not going to push.

18.  Have they ever been in a romantic relationship?

Yes, quite a few. It’s not her favorite thing to talk about since she’s been quite unlucky in that aspect, but hey, the past is the past.

19.  What does their relationship with their family look like? Are they close? Distant? Ect.

Her actual family family (with the exception of her brother) are not close in the least. They’re sort of barely on speaking terms. Her chosen family (comprised of her band and some of the closest staff) is extremely close.

20.  Do they have a pet?

No. She loves animals and had a dog up until recently, but they passed. It’s okay though, they had a good long life and it wasn’t painful for them when it happened.

21.  Do they have a familiar?

Nope. Non-magical.

22.  Are they a supernatural being?

Nope! “Boring” human, but she does seem to always find herself in weird situations that are sorta paranormal.

23.  How do they usually wear their hair?

It really just depends on the day. If she had time to work on it, it’s down and straight. If it’s a rush in the morning (read: fight for the bathroom because Beel won’t MOVE) she’ll toss it in a bun or ponytail depending on how hot it is outside. There are the odd days when she’ll just let it vibe in its natural wavy/curly state, but she kind of got fed up with the brothers calling her a sheep because it’s so fluffy.

24.  Can they play an instrument? If so, what instrument and what can they play?

Yes! She learned guitar and bass at a young age and was tinkering with drums before she was whisked away to the Devildom.

25.  What type a high schooler are/were they?

She was the quiet weird kid that didn’t quite fit in with the weird weird crowd, but also wasn’t popular. Plenty of people knew her or of her, but she mainly stuck with her group of friends and was nice to everyone.

26.  Have they ever been in a physical fight before? If so, with who? Who won?

Yes. Just small bits of violence. No one of import, tbh. But there was that one time they all went out to party at the fall and Mammon and Levi started teasing her and in her drunken state, Niri went to punch Mammon who managed to duck so she hit Levi square in the nose. He was fiiiiiiine.

27.  What is their favourite holiday?

Halloween because it’s fun, Christmas because of the togetherness, and EASTER BECAUSE MARSHMALLOW PEEPS!

 28.  If they could have one wish, what would they wish for?

A pass to go from the Devildom to the Human realm and back whenever she wants forever.

 29.  Do they wants kids? If they already have kids, do they want more?

No. Never.

 30.  Do they have a job?

Yes? Being a singer in a band is a job, right? It doesn’t always feel like a job because it’s awesome, but it’s a job.

 31.  Do they know how to drive?

Yes. She has convinced Mammon to let her drive his car on a few occasions and every time they get back he swears NEVER AGAIN. She a little speed demon.

 32.  Do they get stressed out easily?

Funny story, actually…YES. But she is pretty good at not letting it show. So on the outside she’s like la-la-la~ but inside it’s all AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~~~

 33.  Did they ever dye their hair before? If so, to what colour? Did they like it?

Absolutely lol. Niri has gone through a few colors in her life, but her favorite is and always will be the teal. (Fun fact: the purple came from a happy accident a few years back when she dyed over a pink shade and a layer turned out purple. She liked it so now she does it that way on purpose.)

 34.  Have they ever broken the law?

Never anything egregious, but she’s gotten tickets for stuff in the human world. Disturbing the peace, speeding, she was fined once (along with her bandmates) for a surprise free show they did in front of a train station which got a lot more attention than they were expecting and wound up shutting down a couple city blocks. Oooooooooopsss~

 35.  Do they own a plant?

She’s really bad with plants. REALLY bad. She was gifted a plant by Simeon a couple weeks into the exchange program and it took an embarrassingly long time for her to notice it was a fake plant…since he knows she sucks at keeping things alive.

 36.  Have they ever rode a horse before?

Once, and it was a terrifying experience so she just keeps her distance now.

 37.  What is their favorite gif?

anything featuring Titus Andromedon.

 38.  Do they get along with others easily?

 She tries to. It’s not always possible, but she tries, dammit!

 39.  Do they have any tattoos?

Several, yes. One arm sleeve done, starting the other arm, both thighs have massive pieces on them and both ribs done as well. There are also a few small things on her fingers and back.

 40.  If I wanted to draw them, what would be distinct physical features that I would have to know to draw them correctly?

Lotta hair. Looooooottttta hair. And heavily winged eyeliner. Big lashes.

 41.  What is their favourite breed of dog?

Huskies. They’re just so cute and sassy! And perfectly sized!! Great cuddle buddies and fun to run with!

 42.  Do they live with anyone? If so, who?

Not in the human world, but she’s got 7 kinda irritating roomies in the Devildom!

 43.  Where is their dream vacation?

She’s traveled extensively, so there isn’t anywhere she dreams of going that she hasn’t already seen. Her favorite place is anywhere mountainous and lush.

 44.  Do they know more than one language?

Yep. Niri’s a language nerd. Because she likes to speak to fans and stuff, she has set it on herself to learn as many languages as she can. She’s not perfectly fluent in all of them, but it’s a good handful that she can hold a full conversation in. She and Satan like to practice with one another around the house, despite complaints from the others.

 45.  Are they a quick learner?

Depends. Most things, yes…..math and processes requiring math, NO.

 46.  Have they ever won a contest before? If so, what for? What did they win?

No, she’s not really the luck having type.

 47.  If the world were to end in 24 hours, where would they be and who would they be with?

Probably hugging Beel. They hug often. They’re kinda always together. It’s gross according to Leviathan and Belphegor.

 48.  What does their room look like?

She didn’t change much in the room she was given at the HoL. Just added her fake plant from Simeon and a few human things…she actually got the “Hang in There” kitty poster just for kicks. Lucifer hates it.

 49.  If they could have an extinct animal for a pet, what would they have?

A dodo bird. Because they’re weird and cool.

 50.  If they got called out by someone, what would they do?

Laugh and argue probably. Depends what they’re calling her out on.

51.  Have they ever shot a gun before?

Yep. Actually enjoys shooting, it’s a fun stress reliever. She makes a point to drop by shooting ranges every once in a while back home.

 52.  Have they ever been axe throwing?

Once at a renaissance festival on an odd week of downtime. She didn’t do so well. The throwing was fine, but she never hit the target. Just be glad she didn’t hit a person either!

 53.  What is something that they want but can’t have?

At the moment, all the people she loves in one place.

 54.  Do they know how to fish?

Nope! She’s a mess with that kind of thing. Also, she doesn’t like the idea of fishing for anything herself. It makes her cry to think of the fish on the hook :<.

 55.  What is something they always wanted to do but too scared?

Hmm…Niri tries to live her life in a way that she won’t have regrets, so even if something is scary, she’ll pluck up the courage to do it. But…she still hasn’t jumped out of a plane.

 56.  Do they own their own baby pictures?

Absolutely not. She cringes thinking of the outfits her parents used to put her in, so she did her best to keep those kinds of things buried and acts like they never existed. Nope. Was never a baby. Nope.

 57.  What makes them standout among others?

Niri is a pro at pretending she’s confident, so she tends to draw attention when she walks in a room like she owns the place. Also her hair is kinda bright.

 58.  Do they like to show off?

Not really. She’s flamboyant in a sense, but she doesn’t go out of her way to call attention or to be center stage…heh.

 59.  What is their favourite song?

She can never pick, honestly. There are so many songs that are so amazing!

 60.  What would be their dream vehicle?

That’s a very good question. Probably something sitting in her garage back home. Probably being driven by one of her bandmates. Because hey, what are friends for?

 61.  What is their favourite book?

Not that she isn’t a big reader, but she doesn’t really get the time to enjoy books. There’s always something that needs attention or someplace to be and she’s required to engage, so focusing on a book or story is hard, but she’s a fan of classic novels, poetry, and Greek tragedies are always good!

 62.  Who, in their opinion, makes the best food?

She likes everything Barbatos makes and thinks Luke’s desserts are fantastic, but there’s something about a human recipe that just warms her heart, so…..herself. Lol.

 63.  Are they approachable?

Absolutely! If you can get past her intimidating resting face.

 64.  Did they ever change their appearance?

Not drastically, but she has gone through a few different phases until settling on a good one.

65.  What makes them smile?

The silliness of those around her. Thinking of good memories with family/friends. Puppies.

 66.  Do they like glowsticks?

Yes. She has a stockpile of glowsticks that the brothers keep adding to.

 67.  What is something that is simple, but always makes them smile?

Watching the brothers bicker, even if it’s getting out of hand. It reminds her of her friends and how they always pick on one another.

 68.  Are they a day or night person?

Night, usually. Not that she dislikes the daytime, but day usually has so much stuff to be done whereas night is the fun stuff that doesn’t need a schedule.

 69.  Are they allergic to anything?

Some milk chocolate, bell peppers, and certain devildom plants.

 70.  What do you, the creator of this OC, like most about them?

She’s a spunky little thing who loves to have fun and make others smile above all else.

 71.  Who is their ride or die?

In the Devildom, Beelzebub and Astaroth.

Beel for most things, and Asta for the stuff Beel won’t do.

 72.  Do they currently have a significant other? If not, are they going to get one later one?

Erm…eh…look, it’s never been officially labeled or anything, ok? Like yeah they’re kind always together and have pet names for each other and like always touch and cuddle and like snuggle up in bed together and stuffffffffffff but like, idk? Is Beel her dude? Like….do we wanna even get into that?????? I mean, maybe someday? Like…what? What was the question??

 73.  What attracts them to another person?

A genuine heart, a killer smile, and a rockin’ bod. Yeah okay look everyone can be a little shallow sometimes okay get off her case >__<.  

 74.  Who is one person that can always make them laugh?

She’s a damn fool and will laugh at ANYTHING, so it’s not hard. Everyone makes her laugh. The girl will 9 times out of 10 laugh at herself for the dumbest moments.

 75.  Have they ever partied too hard and their friends had to take them home?

Oh yes many times. Many many times.  One of the first few times she hung out (went on a date) one-on-one with Beel they had a drinking contest and as it turns out, he can really hold his devil liquor.

 76.  Who would be their cuddle buddy?

She’ll cuddle up to Beel 99.9% of the time because he’s big and warm and always happy to hold, but she also really enjoys cuddling with Asmodeus. He’s such a sweetie and he smells so nice and they just snuggle and talk and laugh and it’s a nice escape. (Loads of times there are Asmo x Niri x Asta sandwiches in Asmo’s room.)

 77.  Who would cheer them up after a long day?

She tends to go to one of the brothers depending on what kind of day it’s been. Most of the time it’s gonna be Beel because again, big/warm/happy to hold her, but there are occasions where she’ll drag Beel to one of the others’ rooms and they’ll just hang out.

 78.  If they had a nightmare, who would they run to?

I mean…Beel. Lol. He’s right there.

 79.  What object to the care for the most?

She has a picture of her friends from back home that sits on her desk. She treasures that above all while she’s down in the Devildom.

 80.  Do they like other people’s children?

Sure. Kids are fine as long as they go back to their parents after a bit.

 81.  How would they react if someone broke into their home?

Seeing as there’s always someone coming into her room regardless if she’s there or not, she probably would just shrug it off. If someone decided to have a bad lapse in judgement and break into the HoL? She wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

 82.  Does anyone make them have butterflies in their stomach?

I mean….Beel. Lol. He so big and cute! Also Diavolo because he also big and cute.

 83.  What is something that they are good at?

Crying to get out of trouble. She’s a little shit. Lol.

 84.  What is their neutral expression?

Niri kinda always looks pissed off or uninterested?  Until she smiles and you realize oh, she’s just a big ol’ faker.

 85.  Do they like to cook?

Yes. It’s one of her very favorite things to do!

 86.  What is something they can’t leave home without?

Her phone! (and Beel) but like, there’s just so much a phone can do!

 87.  Who is someone that they rely on?

Have I mentioned ever that Simeon is (or was at one time) Niri’s guardian angel? He seems to always be there and ready to help in any way, so she’s pretty reliant on him and hopes he feels the same toward her. (He does. Cue uwu’s)

 88.  Do they liked to be tickled?

Absolutely not. She’s extremely ticklish and hates being tickled. She flails and cries.

 89.  Have they ever been a sword fight before?

No. No she has not lol. Unless empty wrapping paper tubes count? She’s done that.  

 90.  What is a joke that they would find funny?

All the bad ones. All of them. Ugly laugh here we go!

 91.  Do they have a place that can go and turn off their brain?

The gardens at RAD. It’s peaceful and there’s a great  view of the sky.

 92.  What was their childhood like?

Not bad, but not memorable. There was a lot of pressure put on her to be a perfect kid, and she didn’t get to have a whole ton of fun.

 93.  What are they like as an adult?

Responsible, but definitely fun-loving. Like I mentioned before, she likes to live in a way that she won’t ever regret not having done something she wanted to do, or regret any actions she took, so she’s always got an open mind and welcomes new experiences. She’s a big ol’ kid.

 94.  Do they take criticism well?

Yes. She welcomes criticism in any form as she is always looking to be the best person she can be.

 95.  Have they ever jumped out of a plane?

No. Not yet!

 96.  Who do they like to make jokes with?

Literally anyone. A total joker. Big big clown.

 97.  Have you ever drawn them before? If you are comfortable with it, would you post a picture?

Yes! I draw Niri every once in a while. I actually need to draw her again soon! I miss that girl.

[everyfandomiknowisafandomilove]

MARRIEGE ARRANGED CHAPTER 8

SO I MADE A HUGEEE MISTAKE HERE IS THE CHAPTER 8 THE OTHER IS THE 9 NOW I GUESS, SORRY

"Hello, my name is Noelle," she said kindly, stretching her hand toward you, you wanted to hate her but it was difficult, so you just shook her hand corresponding to the greeting.

"Y/N?" You said sounding more like a question.

"I've seen you at the Weasley twins store, are you close friends?" You nodded a little and she smiled "I need to ask you a favor about George" you opened your eyes and nodded waiting for her question, "yesterday I sent him an owl since in one of my parents' bookstores, its going to be this wizard who is very talented in potions and I know that it could serve George you know, for the store” she said sounding as the most obvious thing in the world, you nodded again and wait for her to continue “Anyway, he said that he had something very important to do with a friend tomorrow” you frowned and remembered that tomorrow you would go together to some places that your moms marked for details about the wedding, you knew that from what she asked that she wanted you to convince him of go with her.

"Why don't you go with Fred?" You said without thinking. "I mean, if it's for the store" you quickly completed when you saw her eyebrows come together in a frown on her little forehead, ugh even doing it looked beautiful, she smiled halfway looking down.

"It's just, that I think George and I have a connection" you felt a stab in your chest.

" You have it? Do you know which twin is which?” The words came out before you could shut your mouth.

"Well not yet, but ..." she said nervously watching her shoes, you took a deep breath, of course she didn't know, nobody could know in a short time, well apart from the scar on the part where George's ear used to be which was difficult to see now that his hair had grown in the same style as Fred. But they had a connection, this girl, Noelle and George had a connection. And George had told her that you were a friend, "is it with you who will go out tomorrow?" Her voice took you out of your thoughts.

"Uh?" You shook your head and nodded, she smiled with a smile that has probably got her many things in life.

"Can you please do it with someone else?" she took your hands and gave them a squeeze, of course you could go alone. It wasn't the big deal or asking Fred or some other Weasley or Hermione, George had been so good to you these days, and here was this beautiful girl, with whom she laughed and his eyes shone when they were together and she thought they had a connection and ... and George deserved to be happy and why did you feel a lump in your throat? you shook your thoughts and looked at Noelle who looked at you hopefully.

"Okay, tomorrow comes to the store at 10 which is when we plan to leave" she gave a little shriek of happiness.

"Perfect, thank you very much y/n" she hugged you and said goodbye to you, you stayed there for a moment, was this right? I mean you were just playing matchmaker with the man you were going to marry, because it wasn't something both of you wanted from the beginning right? Because you didn't care, although George was starting to like you and making you blush with just a half smile, it didn't mean anything, right? Then why it hurt so much.

The next day you arrived at the store a little earlier than agreed, you wanted to be there before Noelle arrived so you could go talking to George, when you entered the store you saw him with a customer talking, but as if something told him that you were there, he turn to where you were, gave you a smile and made a small gesture with his hands to tell you that in a moment he was with you, you smiled at him and looked around, Fred wasn't around, he would probably be in the back, when George approached to you, you gave a little jump when you listening him near your ear.

"Hello" after seeing your reaction, he laughed a little and you were lost in his eyes, until you heard the door of the store and George looking at it whispering "Noelle?" you frowned and turned to the same place in George's gaze , apparently she had also thought it was a good idea to arrive earlier, you could not ignore how beautiful she looked, with her floral dress and her hair loose on her shoulders, you did not want to see George's look when he saw her so you looked at your own outfit , you were wearing a simply large thin sweater over jeans, and your favorite ankle boots, maybe you should have paid more attention to your appearance, your hair was also loose but not even close to Noelle's, you had stopped putting spells on your hair, since the day George had told you that it looked cute and now you felt stupid, Noelle's voice got you out of your thoughts.

"Hi," she said cheerfully, you looked sideways at George and he was frowning, "are you ready?" she asked George what made his frown deepen.

"I thought I told you I was busy" Noelle looked at you with pleading eyes and George followed her gaze.

"Oh right," you said feeling his look "I met Noelle yesterday and she told me about what would be in her family's bookstore, so I told her I would talk to you, only that she arrived a little early" you laughed nervously and saw understanding in the eyes from Noelle.

"We were supposed to choose things to ..." before he could finish you interrupted George.

"For my apartment," you laughed nervously, and George saw you weird, he hadn't mentioned anything about the wedding, if not, she would have said it, so what case did she have to scare her away now with all that,  "don't worry, I was thinking of going alone but I found someone else” the door was heard opening again, you turned towards it “oh there he is" you greeted the young man with his hand to come closer.

"Charlie?" Asked George, looking at him and then at you.

"Yes, he arrived yesterday, we have been maintaining communication for a long time, so I asked him to help me" you explained as Charlie approached with a smile at you, your eyes fixed on him since you didn't want to know what George's face would look like at the moment.

"Hi guys" Charlie gave you a big hug which you corresponded to, because although you had been in contact through letters, that's why you knew he would be here, but you hadn't seen him in a while, he was the only Weasley with whom you had kept a constant contact, since you had seen him years ago in America, in a convention of magical creatures, of course he was there for the dragons and you for a note, that is how you messaging exchange began.

"George" Charlie said happily and hugged his "little brother" which hardly corresponded due to surprise, Charlie moved away a little from him "congratulations on the ..." before he could say anything else you hit him in the ribs discreetly and he gave a small breath of pain looking at you with a frown, you smiled.

"She is Noelle," you said to Charlie pointing to the young woman who was standing looking at everything, "Noelle, this is Charlie, George's brother" they both smiled exchanging greetings, before anyone else could speak or ask anything, you took Charlie from the arm and took him to the exit while you said to George and Noelle "well, we will go look for things for my job, I meant apartment" you laugh nervous "you two have fun" and left there before anyone said anything else.

"I thought she was in love with Fred?" Noelle said to anyone specifically.

"What?" said George, coming out of the trance he was in, he thought that things between you were better, well, you were going to get married and you could say that you were already friends, why had you done that? Well if Noelle told you this was a good thing for the store, but he wanted to go with you to look for stupid flowers and see stupid arrangements and stupid invitations, why you should have asked Charlie to accompany you? Why did you know Charlie would be here if he didn't even know it? Why did you talk to Charlie and since when? Why did you remember Charlie? And now ... wait what? Were you in love with Fred?.

"Well, I'm almost sure she was working with you one day?" she looked at George and he nodded, remembering the day Fred asked you to help him in the store and you and George spent the whole day working together, waiting for Noelle would finish what she had to say "well, I passed a moment in the afternoon when everything was calmer, and well she looked at Fred as if he put the stars in the sky" she said with a half smile, George remembered the day, Fred was not in the store at any time that day, and as if she read his mind Noelle continued "well, I'm almost sure it was Fred,  because when I've seen her here she is always talking to him" George said nothing, it was true that when Noelle was in the store she was approaching to talk to him so if you were there and since you had never been together you would be talking to Fred, but that day, that day Noelle was referring, Fred was not there, so who were you looking at It was him ?.

“Hey what are you doing here? Where is he y/n?” Fred asked as he approached the counter loading merchandise from the back of the store. "Hi?" He said surprised seeing Noelle standing next to George.

"He left with your brother" Noelle said as if she felt sorry for Fred, he frowned and looked at George seeing that the brother he was supposed to go with her was there.

"Wich one?" he ask.

"Charlie" replied a little annoying George, why was he upset?.

"Is he here yet?" Fred asked surprised.

"Did you know he would be here?" George said, narrowing his eyes, Fred shrugged.

"Everyone knew, he's here for the engagement party"  he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are they going to get married?!" Noelle asked surprised and Fred looked at her strangely "charlie and y/n?"

"What? No!”Fred looked at his brother hoping he would clear everything up but George seemed to be on the moon “just someone from the family” he said, still looking at his twin and thinking why he hadn't made his situation clear to Noelle, which just nodded.

 "So," you turned to see Charlie looking at you sideways. "Do you want to explain to me what just happened?" You shrugged.

"Noelle, she is George's friend and she really wanted to take him to a place where he would have more fun than here with me" you answered calmly.

"I mean you make a date for the man you're going to marry, while you drag me to help you with preparations for the wedding?" He half joked.

"Basically" you said as you kept looking at the stores where you had appeared a few moments before, you felt that a hand stopped you.

"y/n I know that all this is going on was weird and I know that you basically don't remember George's previous existence, but from your letters I thought, that..." you looked at him waiting for him to say something "well you know, that you already..., that there was something between you two...,  I don't know”

"She's pretty, he's happy when he's with her, and I like George and I want he to be happy" Charlie narrowed his eyes at you.

"But you are going to get married"

"I know, I ... I just ..." You said looking up at the sky "I don't want to talk about it now, okay?" You looked pleadingly at the redhead "Please?"

"Fine, well , what do you need first?" Charlie said defeated, you smiled at him and answered.

“A dress, for Saturday's engagement party”

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 10- Isn’t It Lovely, All Alone?- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Ivar and Aaline’s wedding night is tense. 

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Ragnar, Lagertha

Warnings: Arranged marriage, language, violence, sex, torture

Word Count: 2060

Ch. 9

“What was rage but a cover for some secret fragility, some sorrow?”

~ Rachel Hartmon

Aaline sat on the edge of the bed, her hands white-knuckled against the comforter, the handle of her blade digging into her palm. Ivar was in the bathroom; she could still hear the water running. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She could hear the tremor in her lungs as she did and she hated herself for it. 

She wasn’t some weak little virgin on her wedding night. She’d slept with men before both in college and once she came home. To be fair she hadn’t had a lot of time after college to sleep around. She was fairly busy running her father’s company and she’d learned early in her collegiate career that she didn’t like the way she felt after casual hookups. They made her feel used and disrespected.

Since random hookups weren’t her thing and she didn’t have time for relationships it was safe to say it had been awhile. She enjoyed an occasional date night with her reliable rabbit that kept her fairly happy and relaxed.

Aaline was afraid. She may have been married to Ivar but she didn’t know him. They’d had a handful of civil conversations in the months that they’d known each other and only a few of them had anything to do with them as people. 

She was afraid because she didn’t know what to expect. Ivar was unpredictable on a good day. She’d heard the rumors and knew what people said but she could only hope that he wasn’t an abhorrent human being who enjoyed hurting women. She knew he enjoyed violence and reveled in hurting his enemies but she only hoped that sadism didn’t extend to the bedroom.

She had tried to forget her encounter with Ecbert. As quickly as he’d come he was gone and she didn’t see him for the rest of the night. His visit had only served to up her anxiety.

The reception had continued as Lagertha had likely planned. There was a bouquet toss and a garter toss. There was a cake cutting that was tame to the displeasure of many of the guests. They skipped the father-daughter and mother-son dance for obvious reasons. They performed all the necessary rituals for a reception and Aaline held off the end of the night as long as possible. 

When the DJ finally announced the final dance to be shared between the bride and groom, Aaline had turned apprehensive eyes to Ivar. She watched as he straightened and seemed to gather himself before taking her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor. 

They didn’t speak this time. 

She could feel the tension in his shoulders. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the expectations for the night or if he was in pain but she didn’t ask. She was just as tense.

As soon as the song ended the remaining guests formed two lines on either side of the entryway and sent them off. They received hugs, handshakes, and well wishes as they made their way up the long staircase towards Ivar’s room. 

No sooner had the door closed and Ivar was marching passed her and into the bathroom. She heard the lock engage and sat on the edge of the bed. She slipped her pocket knife out of its hiding place inside the waist of her dress and waited.  

It was coming up on thirty minutes that Ivar had been in the bathroom.

She startled when the door opened and clenched her eyes shut. She heard him rustle around the room for a few minutes before she peeked her eyes open. They widened when she saw his state of undress. 

He was naked from the waist up with only a threadbare pair of gray athletic shorts. She could see the corded muscles that flexed beneath his skin as he rummaged through the dresser. Stretching across his shoulders and down the slope of his back was a large depiction of snakes curling across his back. She could see the ink stretching over his shoulders and disappearing on his chest. She sucked in a sharp breath when he turned to look at her. 

The tattoo curved around his shoulders and across his chest circling his neck like armor. The curves and lines of the ink stretched over his shoulders and down his ribs, covering most of his chest and upper arms. 

The artwork was breathtaking and Aaline had to shake herself free of the thoughts overcoming her. 

He had approached the bed while she was distracted and was standing at her knees. His piercing gaze was boring holes into her soul and she lost her breath. He began to lean down and panic jumped up in her throat. Before she realized what she was doing, the blade of her knife was tucked up beneath his chin. 

Ivar didn’t move. He kept his eyes trained on her and his hands on either side of her hips on the bed. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and snarled down at her. She could see the disdain bleeding through his carefully constructed control. She maintained her position.  

“I warned you that if you touched me again without my permission, I’d cut your balls off and feed them to you. Did you think I was lying?” She whispered. The space between them was minuscule at best and she could feel his breath ghosting over her face. “It’s our wedding night, wife. We have a responsibility.” She could hear the contempt dripping off of every word.

“Fuck responsibility, husband. Your father has four other sons, married, that can provide him with grandchildren, a legacy. He doesn’t need me.” She growled low in her throat. She clenched her teeth and bared them like a dog does a threat. She felt threatened, now. He was hovering over her, his impressive bulk easily pinning her to the bed beneath him. Her one advantage was the knife pressed against his throat. She wasn’t afraid to use it.

“What about my legacy?” He spat at her, his teeth pressed together just as hard as hers. She shook her head and pressed forward, his body moving back instinctively, away from danger. “No man will touch me without my permission again.” His eyes narrowed and he stood up fully, taking a step back from her, her knife hanging forgotten between them. “Again?” His voice was soft, almost gentle when he spoke. 

She kept her mouth shut and her eyes trained on his powerful shoulders. “Is that what you think? I was going to force myself on you?” Her hand started to shake and she watched as he stalked around the bed and ripped his sleepwear off the edge of the bed, the edge that she had been sitting on. She felt a flurry of guilt well up in her chest. 

“I may be a lot of things, wife, but I’m not a rapist.” He stalked towards her, throwing his sleep shirt on as he went. She tensed but he pushed her knife hand down and away from him. “When I fuck you,” He pressed forward, his forehead against hers. She stood ramrod straight with her hands down at her sides clenched into tight fists. 

“And I will fuck you, it’ll be because you asked me to. Because you want me to.” He stepped back and glared down at her, his eyes filled with a rage she hadn’t seen before. “I prefer my bedpartners willing.”       

He turned his back on her and slammed the door on his way out. Aaline closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, her knife clattering silently to the floor. She collapsed back against the bed and felt tears roll down her cheeks. 

She couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad. She didn’t mean to accuse him of being a rapist but her past experience kept her on guard. She didn’t know what to expect from him tonight so she prepared herself for any possibility. He was either going to rape her or leave her alone. His reputation made her believe that he would rape her. He was too violent and cruel. His eyes, though, when she implied that he would were filled with despair so potent that there was no way he could’ve hurt her even if he wanted to. He was right. He was many things but a rapist wasn’t one of them. 

She shook off her dark feelings and stood up. She would not feel bad about protecting herself. Nothing Ivar said or did would change that. She tied her hair up into a ponytail and turned to the mirror above his dresser. She needed to let off some steam and she conveniently lived in a house that held a boxing ring in its basement.

She reached behind her and gave the zipper of her dress a harsh tug. She felt the fabric give beneath her hands and pushed it roughly down her legs. She didn’t care if Ivar found it in the morning or where it ended up.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She was naked except for the thin pair of lace panties hugging her hips. There were red marks under her arms and on her chest from the weight of her dress. Her face was red and blotchy from her tears and her eyes were slightly swollen.

She swallowed hard and huffed. 

She turned to the bag in the corner of Ivar’s room that Thora had thoughtfully packed for her. Inside were cotton shorts, a tank top, and a black sports bra. She dressed in a hurry and made for the door. 

Boxing helped her blow off steam.

.

“I mean, who does she think she is, really?” Ivar kept his pace slow as he circled the room. His shirt was draped lazily over the edge of the table holding his instruments and his arms and shoulders were shiny with sweat and blood. His feet slapped lightly against the damp stone. 

Aethelwulf was sitting this time with his hands and feet tied to the chair beneath him. His head hung between his shoulders and his hair was dripping with sweat. Blood dripped in a steady stream from the longest strands hanging in front of his forehead.

Ivar was tossing a hammer from hand to hand with ease. Blood was fresh on his fingers but he handled the tool like it was an extension of his arm. 

He sighed and turned to face Aethelwulf. The older man did not react except to continue to breathe heavily. 

“She thought I was going to rape her, Wulfy.” Ivar stroked his fingers up and down the handle of the hammer, running his nails over the grove where the metal met the wood. “I’m not a rapist, you know.” Ivar stared at the top of Aethelwulf’s head from beneath his brows. “I told her that, too. I said, ‘I may be a lot of things but I’m not a rapist.’”

Ivar clicked his tongue and dropped his hands, tossing the hammer onto his work table. He grinned when Aethelwulf flinched. Ivar crouched and tilted his head back to stare up at Aethelwulf’s face. His laugh was dark when he saw that the man’s eyes were clenched shut too tight to feign sleep.

Ivar stood up and arched his back, groaning when there was an audible crack. He cleared his throat casually looked through the various tools on his work table. He heard Aethelwulf start to sob and he smiled. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, Wulfy. I mean, we don’t really know each other so it makes sense that she would think the worst of me.”

Ivar sighed as he picked up an icepick. “Although I do take offense to being labeled a rapist.” He looked down at Aethelwulf. “Second only to child molesters.” Ivar twirled the instrument between his fingers with speed. “It’s wrong to take my frustrations out on those I care about and I imagine my new wife is currently occupying the gym so I had to find alternative means to,” He crouched again and tilted Aethelwulf’s head using the handle of the icepick. “Vent my frustrations, if you will.”

Aethelwulf shuddered and Ivar bit his lip with pride. “You were the next best thing.”

Tags: @littledeadrottinghood @bcarolinablr @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 

[blankdblank]

Anaticula Pt 16

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 -

“Third floor-,” George panted after having pulled himself from the missing step with Fred’s help after you had climbed back to your feet avoiding the suit of armor swinging from the chandelier above in a swoop down to another level to no doubt alert the Professors the secret hall had been breached. Shaking your head to get your ponytail and bangs out of your face you helped Cedric and Percy up and made for the corridor on your right trying to focus on reciting the last two charms. Between the two you were torn on which to choose as they were so similar past a few words in the second line of the description.

The thick door opened with a flick of Percy’s wand after a hall of self lighting torches revealing the large snarling Fluffy who instantly calmed and hummed inching closer to nuzzle her heads against your chests.

George, “Hey Fluffy.”

Fred, “Now girl, just let us past and we’ll bring you some treats after, m’kay?”

Eager to please she inched back freeing the trap door for you to drop down and peer into saying, “Good girl. Back in two shakes.” Inhaling steadily you shifted your feet and dropped down into the darkened room with the boys after you. Thick vines seemed to break your fall and you all stared at mumbling, “Oh Neville would have loved this…”

Closing your eyes you heard Percy mumble, “Devil’s Snare, just relax.” Exhaling together you both dropped through falling heavily to the ground. Painfully in your winded state you rolled over gasping for air in a move along to the wall as the other three fell from the ceiling. Wetting your lips you drew in an unsteady breath through Percy’s gentle patting of your arm to inspect for any serious injuries, “Just a bad bump.”

You nodded, “Yup, landed on my elbow and ribs, like a pro.”

The twins chortled fumbling their own way up once Cedric had clambered to his feet after knocking his own elbow in his fall. Around you they all rubbed their own growing bumps in your path ahead past a large empty hall cast in shadows leading to another door that opened itself when you approached making you pause to mumble in front of it, “Not creepy at all.”

Cedric’s eyes narrowed mumbling, “What, is that fluttering?” Peering through you all eyed the winged keys flying around drawing you closer.

George eyed all the keys and Fred said, “None of them match the lock.”

Turning your head your lips pursed at the crack coming from a pillar in the center of the room revealing a small pair of pearly doors that opened as you neared it revealing a small music box. The egg shaped crystal dome with a silhouette of a blue gown clad woman above the silver stand bearing the word ‘Cinderella’ etched into it. With parted lips you eyed it only to grip it tightly in fear of dropping it at its beginning to play a soft tune stirring a stone singing frog from the open doors.

The Frog began to sing as you eyed the glowing stone inches in front of your foot curiously after releasing the music box that began to float through the shifting of the flying keys into choir frogs in small bubbles.

Ten minutes ago, I saw you

I looked up when you came through the door

My head started reeling

You gave me the feeling

The room had no ceiling or floor

Percy, “What are they doing?” He asked eyeing the frogs formerly deep green glowing red in anger at your silence and frozen stance. Hastily you stepped on the glowing stone only for another to glow your next foot pressed to. A third glowing stone had the twins say, “That’s a waltz.”

Cedric, “What sort of-?” his words were cut short as he was jerked towards another set of glowing stones at the rest of the floor igniting on fire, fumbling through the steps Fred and George were sharing while Percy mimed your steps on your right noticing the door in the wall had vanished completely.

 Ten minutes ago, I met you

And we murmured our "How do you do's?"

I wanted to ring out the bells

And fling out my arms

And to sing out the news

"I have found her, she's an angel

With the dust of the stars in her eyes

We are dancing, we are flying

And she's taking me back to the skies"

 Percy, “Um, sis, isn’t this a duet?”

Rolling your eyes in taking another turning step you growled out, “Flitwick has to be behind this.”

 In the arms of my love, I'm flying

Over mountain and meadow and glen

And I like it so well

That for all I can tell

I may never come down again

I may never come down to earth again

 Wetting your lips you inhaled and at the bright red glow of the frogs floating around you humming along to the melody you began to sing calming their furious glow back to a calmer green. Each verse bringing you closer to the door.

Ten minutes ago, I met you

And we murmured our "How do you do's?"

I wanted to ring out the bells

And fling out my arms

And to sing out the news

 I have found him

In the arms of my love, I'm flying

Over mountain and meadow and glen

And I like it so well

That for all I can tell

I may never come down again

 Together with the frogs you sang the final line and found yourself stepping straight into a wall that spun to the side revealing a secret door leading into a darkened hall.

I may never come down to earth again

 “Oh you have got to be kidding me…” Peering around curiously you flinched as you heard the crashing of metal and stone over Ron’s echoing screams of a chess match. In the darkness you eyed the door-less room filled with varied styles of glowing teapots floating around the room once the wall sealed shut behind you.

Twins, both nodding said, “Okay, list the traits. Sealed room, tea pots…”

Cedric stepped closer to one only to pull his hand back at the card popping up in front of it he read aloud, “Time For Tea.”

Smoothing your fingers over your lips you inspected one of them only to peek under it curiously mumbling, “Q?”

The Twins ducked under another pair calling out their own letters glowing in the bottom of them, “A”, “Y!” Only for the teapots in the room to shuffle into new spots sending your heads to pivot for any sign of danger.

Percy wet his lips, “So, we’re spelling something?”

You Fred and George blurted out, “Tuesday! Tea Time with Minnie!”

Cedric called out, “Ok, so, we grab the ones with the right letters and, we’ll figure it out later.” Each of you moved to a teapot and started to snatch up the proper letters before the remainders would all shuffle again. Each time after you each would call out the traits of the wrong teapots until you had collected the right ones. All at once the lights cut off drawing a sigh from you at Ron’s pained scream before the trickle of water sounded from a now glowing fountain growing brighter by the moment.

With pursed lips you all eyed the fountain before Cedric mumbled, “Guess we have to brew some tea.”

Moving closer you all shifted the teapots in your arms to remove the lids and fill them with the water inside only to peer up at the round stovetop lighting up on the other side of the fountain. Around it you walked eyeing the glowing letters you set the proper teapot in each circle around the top. The necks were all aimed together and at the first sound of bubbling your hands gripped one another’s sides at the crack in the wall revealing another hidden door opening.

“Okay.” Fred mumbled taking the first step towards the door.

George, “Waltzing, tea time, what could possibly be next?”

Straight into a rubble filled room with a massive chess set you spotted Hermione on her knees, “Hermi!” You all cried out racing for her drawing her to her feet with a panicked expression explained soon by Ron’s unconscious body on the ground at her feet.

Open mouthed you raced over as she explained, “We tried to follow Quirrell! Ron had to take the final move!”

Around him you settled and your head dropped to his chest, “Still has a steady heartbeat,” lifting your head your hands rose to check his head as the twins both drew out a vial of Phoenix Tears they dropped a couple of drops onto the few gashes over him.

Wetting his lips Cedric said, “You go on.” Looking at him he nodded taking the vial, “I’ll watch these two till the Professors arrive. Go get Riddle.”

Nodding you all stole another glance at Ron and Hermione before carrying on through the open door across from you.

.

Another darkened chamber folded around you at the door slamming shut behind you making you mumble, “Of course.”

A sudden burst of flames lit up a rectangular table coated in a series of bottles filled with random liquids you moved closer to.

Their appearance was as follows:

Clear round short bottle with green potion, tall red bottle, smallest blue bottle, taller clear bottle with yellow potion, short pear shaped green bottle, tallest clear bottle dark potion, second short round purple bottle

Percy nodded running his hands through his hair, “Alright, bottles…”

Suddenly in a flash you all flinched into a tight group at a flaming ball of light revealing a rolled piece of parchment unfurling itself as Fred mumbled, “I am going to throttle whoever made these chambers…”

Peering at the handwriting you mumbled, “That’s Severus’ writing.” Then read aloud,

“Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,

 To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.”

Inhaling sharply you smoothed your hands over your face at your hair turning to a deep midnight blue grumbling, “Ok..ok…”

Fred leaned in eyeing the page again then stated, “Since the giant bottle is, not, poison, and it is a twin to the second from the left, those two are nettle wine (2nd and 6th).” His wand was drawn out and glowing orbs of light were floated above the bottles marking them out. Tall red bottle,  - Nettle Wine, tallest clear bottle dark potion, - Nettle Wine.

Percy drew out his own wand sending a pair of red lights to glow above two more, “Therefore, two of the poisons are to the left of these (1st and 5th).” Clear round short bottle with green potion, - Poison, short pear shaped green bottle, - Poison

“The ones at each end are different, and since we know the left end is poison… both nettle wines have been found, and ‘it will not help you move onwards’, the rightmost bottle sends you back (7th).” From your belt sheath you drew your wand stirring up more glowing orbs. second short round purple bottle – Sends you back

George said eyeing the final two bottles, the small, round, purple potion and the small, blue squared potion. “This leaves 2 bottles, and the dwarf is, not poison, so, it must be the one to move ahead (3rd).” smallest blue bottle, - Potion to move ahead

Percy, “The 4th bottle must be the third poison.” taller clear bottle with yellow potion, - Poison

Twins, “So, it’s the third…” They looked to you as you reached out to grab it and lift it timidly.

Mumbling to yourself, “Fingers crossed, no more pitch black surprises.” A click sounded at the lifting of the potion for the door to open just a crack revealing the agitated hissing of Parseltongue on the other side of it.

Anxiously you reached into your bag drawing out a hideous looking Rudimentary Body, a type of in between from a spectral state to a fully reformed physical body as George reached into his own pocket bringing out Scabbers who squeaked as he was set down. His tapping steps following you all to the door where you set the body down and inhaled deeply trying to remain calm reminding yourself of the two remaining curses to free Quirrell, ‘Dicedite and Apstraho’ both similar yet one could be vastly wrong.

Peering at the guys they all nodded silently agreeing if your choice didn’t work they would fire the second right after. Out of instinct almost in a thought of Minerva to draw some confidence your body shifted resembling her, hair bound up in her signature bun with spectacles and deep green robe over the ankle boots she loved to wear and gift to you. In a burst of confidence you shoved the door open raising your wand that send a burst of silver straight for Quirrell mid rant, “Apstraho!”

Nothing, the silver cloud folded around him his body turned and before any of you could react a green flash erupted from his dropping you heavily to the floor onto your back. You didn’t need to hear the curse to know which it was. The Killing Curse. And with Harry unconscious at his feet and a victorious smirk on the face resting on the back of Quirrell’s badly burned body from touching Harry staring at the trio remaining on their feet a chocking gasp jut out of him as his body seemed to warp and contort as if being torn in two internally. Jerk after jerk finally ended with Quirrell’s body collapsing to the ground as Riddle’s roaring spirit burst forth. Through the door Pettigrew shot out with wand and body in hand, following your assigned enchantment he sealed the angered soul into a docile state inside the body.

Pausing with a tearful gaze at the body struggling to move or even open its slit formed eyes in a bright red Peter’s eyes shifted to your lifeless body reflected above Harry’s in the mirror still in a glowing silver between the now crouching boys. Not even three seconds you had faced off against the Dark Lord and fallen, tearing him from Quirrell in the process and yet they seemed a lifetime suddenly tearing short at your sudden gasp and stirring coughs as your heart started beating again.

Around you the boys watched your body shift back to normal as you struggled to sit up in their arms through their tearful hug around you. Tilting your head back you locked eyes with Peter who nodded and drew a contained portkey from his pocket he used to zap away to a previously scoped out hiding place.

Shakily you sat breathing with their hands keeping you up through Percy’s tearful sob, “How, we saw you die..”

Fred eyed the bright red glowing ring on your finger saying, “I suppose that charmed ring from your Mum really worked.”

You nodded and coughed again into your painfully throbbing elbow to say, “We need to check Quirrell.” Eying his calmly rising and falling chest.

Doors could be heard flying open behind you in your group move closer to the unconscious Professor and Harry, who the twins checked a few feet from Quirrell at the base of the mirror still showing you in your silver glowing form. Wetting your lips you folded your fingers around your wand still a bit cautious as the Professors burst into the room looking over you all.

Barty and Snape were the first to cross the room as Minerva rushed to Harry, silently inspecting his exposed skin for any hex marks. A creeping set of black veins up Quirrell’s neck onto his face parted Barty’s lips, “Cover your eyes! Now!”

Peering up at him your lips parted as Snape shouted, “Don’t touch him!” Percy slid away as you remained in place only to be scooped up in Barty’s arms with your face pressed into his chest as Snape rushed Percy away covering his eyes through Minerva and Hagrid pulling Harry and the twins away, the latter with their eyes covered through a sloshing crunch of breaking bones. Turning around Barty ensured the curse contained within a glowing orb summoned by Dumbledore’s extended wand he set you down easing your head back to lock his eyes on yours.

Tearfully you squeaked out, “What was that sound?” His own tearful gaze met yours feeling your pain growing with each moment of his silence at not knowing allowing your mind to wander freely. “What-,” Turning your head you softly mumbled at the blackened pool of blood under Quirrell, “No!” Tightly his arms folded around your middle as Snape’s did as well to keep you from touching his cursed and contagious body.

Snape, “You cannot touch him!”

In broken sobbing squeaks you called out as Percy and the Twins eyed the dead Professor motionless as Minerva moved closer to you, “He was fine-… He was supposed to be ok. We did, everything-,” Folding around you Minerva’s tight hug brought your trembling body to its knees as your sobs broke free. The Professors stroked your back holding you in place while Hagrid comforted the twins as Percy simply sat down still with tears streaming down his cheeks until Hermione rushed in to hug him earning her an engulfing hug in return through his soft sniffle.

.

Broken hearted you were carried up to the Hospital Wing by Snape as the other teens were led up as well. Under pitch black curls and tearstained cheeks your bleak face settled to staring at the distant wall answering what simple questions Madame Pomfrey had for your injuries. Her worried expression lingering at your groups mournful gazes as you were settled into the beds with Neville soon added after having been paralyzed trying to keep Riddle from taking Harry from the Common Room after having been woken up in he middle of his books studying for the upcoming exams. With legs curled in front of you and arms folded around those you sat still mentally rehashing each moment for something you could have done different.

The fading warmth of Snape and Barty moving to speak with the other Professors in the corner of the room dropped your eyes to the twins and Percy in the beds across from you. All who had drank the tonic Madame Pomfrey, who was now debating with Albus on giving you in your clearly shocked state in hopes of avoiding night terrors after Percy had granted them the memory of what had happened. Barely above a whisper as your eyes fell to your rings on your left hand you said, “K?”

At your feet on the bed your eyes locked with his as another warm sandpaper tear split from your eye down your cheek to drop into your lap to pool with the other gemstones formed from your hardened tears. “Godric’s Hollow.”

Nodding his head you were zapped away and in another confirming glance you weren’t still crying Minerva’s mouth fell open, “Albus-!” Turning their heads they eyed the shimmering fire opals on the empty bed you had just been on open mouthed causing her to turn saying, “I’ll fetch Sirius!” In a wave of her hand your enchanted door appeared and she raced through it calling for your father, behind whom Remus and Regulus raced after demanding to see that memory before they shared a knowing glance as to where you could be.

..

Bright golden light washed over you as you found yourself atop that sunlit hill in the soft breeze staring off at the sunset in the picture set up beside your bed. Formerly in that death maze across from Riddle you could still feel his Killing Curse hitting you, at least until a warm hand settled on your shoulder.

Wide eyed you stared at your mother, her soft grin easing onto her face taking in the near mirror image of her younger self as her free hand settled onto your cheek lovingly, “Breathe.” The tearful gaze in her eyes shifting from purple to green in taking each detail of your face at your parting gasp tearing you from that peaceful place back to that chamber where you saw the Weasleys above you followed by coughs at your body forcing your lungs to function normally again.

.

Lost for what to do you just knew you needed to see her again, or at least what piece of her you had. In the cold night air you were seated cross legged at the foot of your mother’s grave eyeing the statue of her holding you with your father in dog form seated beside her. Your names were etched into the headstone beside the Potter’s, the stone couple cuddling with an infant in their arms, both with the shared date of ‘October 31, 1981’ with the etching of ‘The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.’

Warm tears smoothed down your cheeks as you sobbed out through K’s easing your jacket he had brought from your dorm over your back and shoulders, “It’s not fair-,” All but folding in half until a glowing bluish mist formed in front of you shaped like a hand palm up with fingers wiggling raising your eyes. Instantly your lip quivered seeing your mother crouching in front of you stirring more tears down your cheeks as you squeaked out through Lily and James appearing to kneel around you as well, “We tried so hard to free him.”

Unable to touch you James’ hand eased through your cheek he tried to wipe dry saying, “We know. And you did it masterfully!” Making your lip quiver again.

Lily spoke next, “Sugarplum, we can’t save them all. Sometimes it just isn’t enough.”

Your mother’s voice drew your eye next, “My amazing little girl. Even we lost people we loved. People we struggled for years to protect. War does not discriminate and an early death comes to those both worthy and undeserving of it. All we can do is make use of what time is given to us.”

James, “You are so strong, and there is no one I know of that has given him that much trouble before.”

Lily, “Don’t doubt yourself. It hurts, yes, but you have to keep moving. We cannot wallow in our grief.”

Peering up at your mother you sniffled and wiped your cheek asking, “You didn’t leave me this ring, did you?”

She shook her head hovering her hands over your knees pretending as if she could touch you, “No, my love. But we will always be with you. Always. Never doubt that.”

You nodded and sniffled again eyeing K in his move to draw the coat tighter to snap over your chest as you shakily slid your arms through the sleeves. A distant crunching of grass brought their eyes up over your shoulders and the steady steps sounding across the stiff grass halted at your father’s whisper, “Jewel.”

Nearing you Regulus crouched folding his arms around your back greeting Lily and James, his warm body starting up your tears again in your turn to fold into his chest through his open jacket nestling your head into his neck at Sirius nearing your mother with tears in his eyes. “How-?”

Her finger tapped to his nose and she smiled at him, “Fuzzy face, I cannot stay long. You have done so well protecting our little girl. Please, I am always here, focus on Jaqi now. Our girl needs you.” At that their bodies flickered and he looked to the others urgently.

James grinned, “Padfoot, our boy’s just like us. No telling what he’ll get into.”

Lily gave him a bright smile saying, “We love you. And please tell Harry to stop using his wand as a drum stick! You know how I hated James doing that!”

James chuckled, “And tell Remus to lighten up. Set off an explosion or something for old times sake.”

Sirius in their last moments of being visible looked to his wife inching closer again as she said, “I love you. Go hold our girl. She is every inch like you. No telling where that will get her, especially with my short fuse.” A grin eased onto his face nodding as they faded to turn to you.

Dropped to his knees he joined Regulus in folding around your back and side saying, “You did everything you could, Pumpkin.”

Again you choked out a sob and he smoothed his hand over your back as Regulus said, “We know it hurts. But you did masterfully. That charm to tear Riddle away, I have never heard of it being used so powerfully before. No one has been recorded successfully using it on their own, usually it takes groups to cast souls out.”

At your peek up at the pair of them Sirius wiped your cheeks saying, “Pumpkin, you gave him hell. And those challenges, you held firm and eased your way through it. The boys are safe, Hermione is safe, you handled it so well. More so than more than a few Aurors we know.”

Regulus, “Absolutely.”

You nodded and sniffled again as they wiped your cheeks through your father asking, “Why don’t we get you back to the Hospital Wing. Let you get some sleep.”

You nodded and used their help to stand only to freeze and say, “It’s the ring.”

Their brows inched up and your father asked, “Hmm?”

Lifting your hand you showed them the ring, “How we could see them. I think it’s the ring. It kept Riddle from touching me, and I could hear Mum through it.”

They both nodded and Sirius rested his hand on your back smoothing his arm around you, “Come on. Back to bed. Remus is currently trying to decipher just how Harry was taken, Neville’s dreaming so it makes the memories a bit harder, only Hedgewig saw it fully, which owl memories are even worse to read.”

Nodding again you asked, “Was it my spell? That killed-,”

They both stopped and shook their heads, “No! No! Not at all!”

Regulus, “Riddle’s favorite thing was to hide curses under his victims’ skin. No doubt he etched one into Quirrell in case he was cast out.”

Sirius cupped your cheek, “It was not your fault. There was no way to know he was cursed unless he had been stripped bare.” A grin inched across his lips at your relieved exhale, “Why Minerva?”

“She’s so strong. Gave me courage.”

Regulus, “She is terrifying. Incredible choice.”

Pt 17

[thinkyoureholy]

Stow Away [3]

.

.

.

Pairing : Kim Jongdae / [Fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Mature and Crude Language, Violence, Fluff, Future Smut, Character Death?, Pirate! AU

Words : 2.2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I stared at the wall opposite me, spacing out as I lost myself in my thoughts. The rocking of the boat was almost non existent, the sounds coming from behind the door drowning out. I was remembering his face, wanting to recall what Hera's real killer looked like. I had only gotten a glimpse of him when he left with her but he looked so damn familiar, I just didn't know why. My thoughts then moved to my current situation, thinking of a way to escape from Jongdae. It had been a few days and he had kept his word that I'd be safe under his care but once we went back to the kingdom he'd hand me over without a second thought once he found out the truth, that is if he doesn't kill me first for lying to him. He seems like the kind of man to take something like that seriously. Speaking of which he walked into the room as soon as I thought of him; speak of the devil and he shall appear. I watched curiously as he grabbed a few things, not even sparing me a glance, that is until he was about to leave.

“Do not leave this room.” Was all he said before closing the door behind him.

I grew confused at his words, hearing the authority in his tone of voice. I got up and walked over to the door, putting my ear up against it. My curiosity grew at hearing the clanking of metal. With a tentative hand I reached over to grab the door knob, pulling the door open and seeing Jongdae and his men fighting what I assumed to be other pirates. Not even a second later a man stumbled into the room. I backed away, trying to hide myself from his line of sight but it was too late. As soon as he spotted me a wicked look crossed his face. He smirked as he looked me over, his eyes clouding over as I could only assume what his thoughts were. I moved myself behind the desk Jongdae had in the room, wanting to put something between me and the man. He chuckled at seeing me do so, putting his sword away, a mistake on his part really. I took a second to look down at the desk, seeing a letter opener. I took it in my hand, grabbing the handle and having the blade of it pointing towards me. This made it easier for me to swipe up or across, cutting the other person with ease instead of holding it the conventional way. The man once again chuckled before rushing towards me. I kicked at the desk, sending it his way. He stumbled back, shoving it away from him as he took slow steps towards me. When he got close enough I swung at him, the letter opener barely managing to do any damage. I cursed, knowing I had to stab him with it instead and to do so I had to let him get closer. The only way stabbing him with this measly letter opener would kill him was if I stabbed him in the neck with it. I set my jaw waiting for him to come closer, knowing I had to time it just right. Like before I swung at him but instead of bring my hand back to my side I plunged the blade into his neck.

“Fucking bitch.” He cursed at me as his hand immediately came up to the wound.

Before I could count my blessings he swung at me, his fist making contact with my face. I fell to the floor, his foot making contact with my stomach. He kicked me more times than I could count, the taste of blood now on my tongue. I groaned out in pain, wondering why the hell the bastard wasn't dead yet. The only way he could still be alive is if I missed his jugular but I was sure I hit it.

“Jongdae has captured himself a pretty little lady, too bad I'll have to defile her for him.”

My face paled at his words, knowing exactly what he implied with them. I turned over on my back, swatting his hands away from me. I kicked at his leg, hearing him let out a groan before giving me another punch to the face. He kneeled next to me, blood still gushing out of his neck but it didn't seem like it was affecting him. Mustering up the last of my strength I sat up as quickly as I could, unsheathing his own sword and using it to stab him through the heart. He looked at me wide eyed before falling over with a thud. I winced at the pain I was in, knowing my ribs had to at least be bruised. I was breathing heavily as I pulled the sword out of his chest, using it to help me stand. I was wobbly on my feet, hearing footsteps coming towards me. Without a second thought I raised the sword, stopping myself at seeing that it was only Jongdae. This was my chance, I could kill him and escape now but in my condition I wouldn’t get very far. So with a resigned sigh I let the sword fall to my side, swaying from side to side as I tried to keep myself standing.

“I thought I told you not to leave this room.”

“I didn’t.” I replied angrily through gritted teeth, looking over at him with a glare, “He fell into the room all on his own. I’m not stupid enough to go out into danger, unlike you lot killing people doesn’t bring me any joy.”

He narrowed his eyes at my words, taking slow steps towards me. I held onto the hilt of the sword tightly, ready to use it if he tried anything. He opened his mouth to say something but before he could two men barged in. With the way they charged at Jongdae I assumed they weren’t apart of his crew. Two against one was an unfair fight and though I knew I’d regret helping him I brought the sword up, pushing him out of the way as I blocked the attack. The man holding the sword I was blocking with my own sword scoffed, pushing down harder. I ground my teeth together, as I pushed back, feeling a strain in my ribs from it. I pushed him back, watching him trip over his own feet. He took a moment to recollect himself and in that moment I was able to reach down and grab the dagger from the man that lay dead on the floor. I swung my sword at the man in front of me with one hand, turning the dagger over in my other so I was grabbing it from the blade end. With one final lunge I was able to plunge the sword into the man’s stomach, pulling the sword back out just as quickly. Within the next second I turned around, bringing my arm up before throwing the dagger over at the man Jongdae was fighting against. I watched it embed itself into his back, giving Jongdae the chance to kill the man off himself. Turning back around to the one I was just fighting against I grabbed the hilt of the sword with both hands before bringing it down and delivering the blow that ended his life. I stumbled back, my knees feeling like jelly as it had gotten harder to breathe what with having been kicked in the ribs repeatedly. I was panting heavily as I turned around to face him once more, seeing him looking at me with wide eyes.

“I’m not as defenseless as you think I am.” I said in a low voice, referring to when he told me to stay in this room, “If I wanted to I could’ve killed you myself and escaped this damn ship. Though like I said I take no pleasure from killing but killing you might just be an exception.”

“Oh really now?” He asked with a smirk on his face, raising an eyebrow as he took a step closer to me, “How about right now? Go on then, do it, let’s see if you’ll be able to land a blow.”

At his words I brought the sword up, wincing at the throbbing coming from my ribs at the effort. He gave a smug smile as he took another step towards me, the tip of the blade now poking into his chest. My hands began to shake the longer I held the sword up, my limbs growing tired. I stared him down, hoping he’d back up but had no such luck. I did grow confused at seeing him wince, my eyes looking over his face properly. He had a cut over his eye, just above his brow and a busted lip. Going further down I noticed a red stain on his side, seeing his own hand begin to shake as he bared the pain. I couldn’t help but let out a scoff myself, letting the sword drop to the floor.

“You’re in no shape to fight me off as I’m in no shape to kill you.”

“Oh yeah like that’s really what’s stopping you.” He said in a smug voice, the smirk still on his face.

I said nothing, not having the opportunity to say anything as Jay ran in, “Captain! Captain! We need you out here!”

I didn’t even spare Jay a glance as I watched Jongdae begin to run out but before he did he turned back like he did before, “Don’t leave this room, yeah I know. Just go before I decide to grab the sword again and stick it in your gut.”

I turn my back on him, retrieving the sword and walking back over to the bed. I plopped down onto it, hearing the door slam shut. I closed my eyes as I tried to regulate my breathing but it hurt every time I took a breath. I winced as I let out a whimper, remembering the last time I was beaten this badly. It was years ago and though I faintly remember it I'm sure it didn't hurt half as bad, however the beatings afterward were what I remembered more vividly. I felt tears come to my eyes as I brought my hand up to touch my ribs gingerly, immediately moving my fingers away from them. The pain I was in was enough to tell me that they were in fact bruised, whether they were fractured or not I wasn't sure. I could hear the fighting going on out on the deck in the back of my mind but I paid no attention to it. Little did I know that that beating took more out of me than I thought, the extra energy I exerted afterwards not helping my case. Within second I was beginning to see black dots dancing across my line of sight and before I knew it I was out like a light.

-

“What do you think we should do?”

“Well she obviously needs to see a doctor.”

“Don't you think I know that? But we can't just let her roam around the town, what if something happens to her? There goes our gold.”

“I can go with her.”

I groaned at the sound of the voices, wincing as the pain in my ribs came back to me. I took in a deep breath, with some effort, opening my eyes to see Jongdae and Jay standing over me. I felt my heart skip a beat, startled at seeing them so close.

“Fucking hell.” I said, my voice still laced with sleep, going to sit up.

I winced as soon as I tried, my hand immediately coming up to my ribs. I let out a heavy sigh, that simple action causing me pain.

“If you had just done-”

“I did what you fucking asked. If you had done a better job of protecting me I wouldn’t be in so much pain.” I all but hissed out, glaring over at Jongdae as I pushed myself up into a sitting position slowly.

“I see the princess has quite the mouth on her.” He responded through gritted teeth, “I was going to send you into town with Jay to get proper treatment from a doctor but now you can forget it. Sit here in pain for all I care.”

With that he barged out of the room, leaving Jay behind. I rolled my eyes as I watched him go, hearing Jay sigh, “Here.” Was all he said, handing me a small bag. I looked at it wearily for a second before taking it. I looked inside, surprised to see a few medical supplies inside.

“Why are you…”

“You’re no good to us dead.” He said simply like it was the most obvious answer.

I scoffed at his words, tossing the bag back over to him and watched him struggle to catch it before it hit the floor, “I’d like to be alone please.”

That was all I said, casting my gaze down to the floor as I heard him let out another sigh  before leaving. I didn’t need anything from them, knowing they saw me as nothing but money made me blood boil. I clenched my hands into fists, they didn’t even see me as another human being. Besides injuries like this were nothing, I’ve sustained worse than a few bruises. I only exaggerated the pain so they wouldn’t question why a princess had such a high pain tolerance. The next chance I got I was escaping from this damned boat, away from the kingdom, away from Jongdae, and away from the man that killed Hera. 

[indigosees]

Mirrors

Character/s: Daiki Kwon, Hyun-ji Kwon, Jing-sae Kwon, Anaïs Park Fandom: Original work Trigger Warning: Violence, Death (?)

[ Continues from a previous work. Also, Tony and Lavinia belongs to @catphantom​ ]

There are approximately 1.25 million people dying of road crashes each year. Odds of it happening to a person, at least once in their life? Who knows. We often see it portrayed in media: car accident taking the life of a beloved, or a group of people. Sometimes, the main character embarks on a journey to discover himself. The audience would be able to better understand why he died and who he left behind. Other times, he will be stuck in a loop, until he did something right, and in the end he will be the one killed, and the other supposed victim lives. The entertainment industry capitalizes on human tears and agony. It’s a shame that no one sees it.

One would sometimes wonder, if such things are possible: to change the past or to simply return back in time, and relieve a time that's more preferable than the present. I for one don't bother believing in such things nor do I bother to hope for the possibility.  Whatever has happened, has happened. There's no turning back. Even as my eyes rested on the bloodied heap that used to be my wife, I didn't have to look up to see who was behind it, because I already knew this would happen. 

"That's not mom," he seethed. I must have pushed a little too far by bringing my wife back to life. "And I won't let it defile my memory of her."

"Where's Hyun-ji?" I asked after his sister. As the emotional one, she was likely  to have gone somewhere. "Hiding. Like the coward she is," he walked over to the sink, washing the knife, like nothing alarming just happened. I didn't need to look around and find my daughter as she cried up to me, the weight of her body against mine. "Dad--dad," she choked in between sobs, "brother is--" her tears kept rolling down her cheeks, eyes red and sore. I wrapped my arms around her, patting her head. I made sure she wouldn't see the grotesque display of her mother's remains, though she have probably seen it already. If only Anaïs were here, she would know what to do. Regardless of what she thought, she raised our kids well, that even our son who took after me respected her greatly. Case in point, the remains of her clone sprawled across the kitchen floor. "It'll be fine, Hyun-ji," I tried to console her. "Your father will take care of it."

"Take care of what?!" Wrong move again? Jeez, this kid is difficult. How did Anaïs raise him? "Take care of the clone's remains and get another one?" Hyun-ji winced in my chest. She never liked it when we fought--even just screaming at each other puts her on the edge. "I swear dad, if I see another mirror of mom I will kill you next." I'm sure he meant it but I don't really care--kid's got guts but inexperience trumps his ideals. Unless he decided to shoot me in my sleep, which could still be prevented by locking the door to my room at night. I'm a light sleeper so I can easily tell if he would try to kill me in my sleep. He can't drug me either, because I'd make sure not to eat anything that's within his vicinity. He is my son and 9 out of 10 I know each and every trick in his sleeve and he will never win against me. "Alright, maybe I made a mistake--"

“You're a fucking mistake,” my own son cut me off. The nerve. "You should've been the one who died." I mean, I think I expected my own death more than Anaïs', honestly, so me being alive right now is a pleasant surprise. “Jing-sae!” The voice was feminine but sharp, a mere word radiating with rage. My daughter. You’re making me cry. “Don't talk to dad like that! Just be glad, that dad is alive, or we'd have no one to take care of us!” Not true. I've written my last will and testament and placed you under the care of Tony, Lavinia, or Anaïs' brother. But thank you, my sweet little knight in shining armor. This is why you’re my favorite. 

They continued to argue and as a father, I should be stopping them or calming them down. I can’t be blamed for admiring my daughter, who is now standing tall against her brother who has been rude 25/8 of the time, and holding her ground for her beloved father. The fierceness, stubbornness, and the insistence to do what she thinks is only right--all of which are qualities she most likely acquired from her mother. Oh Anaïs, I’m sure you would’ve wanted to see them grow old and achieve their dreams.

I had to step in when I sensed one of them was getting a little too heated. One of them is more capable of murder than the other after all. “Alright, alright, let’s just…” I had to physically haul my daughter off despite her attempts to wiggle herself out of my grasp. Ah, sibling fights. I never had them. Though, I remember Anaïs telling me a bit about them. Back when she was younger, she’d used to fight with her siblings on who gets to be player one or who gets the last cookie in the jar. They’d usually settle it, fair and square, with a game (except that her older sister would usually cheat). I was an only child to my mother, but I’ve done some digging and found that I do have siblings in Japan. Hell, none of them knew I existed. I took a step only to find myself stumbling forward, my daughter having been able to keep herself standing with the help of the island, while I may have used her as leverage. The pain in my thigh was all I needed to tell what happened: my own son stabbed me and I don’t know if I should be proud or annoyed. That was underhanded, after all. “Don’t you fucking dare interrupt.” Really, Anaïs, why is our son such a huge bitch? I’d skin him then and there if he wasn’t our son. Hyun-ji just helped me up. “I’m fine,” I told her.

Ignoring the pain, I turned to face my son, prying the knife out of my thigh. Damn that hurt. I should have kept it in there if I don’t want to bleed to death. “Hyun-ji, call an ambulance. Tell them there was an injury.” I stared back at my son whose unblinking eyes were trained on mine. He has his mother’s eyes, narrow and pointed. It made him all the more menacing to those around him, apparently, which is evidenced by his lack of friends. The others are probably just tolerating him. “But dad--”

“Now,” I kept my voice firm. She doesn’t have to see whatever will happen next, so the least I could do is to send her away in the meantime. I listened to her footsteps recede. My son remained unmoving, every muscle in his body still, until he smirked. Maybe he knows, that we should finally settle this like the animals we were. From one psychopath to another. He’d understand. I’d understand. That there’s only one way for us to settle our differences. 

He lunges forward, arms outstretched and what the fuck is that a small knife? Really, how prepared is my son to kill? I’m proud, frankly, that he’s even aiming for my ribs--a stab through the lungs could be fatal to me, but he’d need to be precise, or it’ll only stab a bone. I immediately took a side step ignoring the pain from the injury and motioned for the magnets to wrap around him. It didn’t take me long to render him immobile. “Of course you’d use these--magnets, because it’s all you’re ever good for. Without it, you’re nothing. You couldn’t even protect mom, you couldn’t even keep her from harm. You’re useless, dad, usele--” Well, it’s my turn to lunge forward and pull him into a hug. It’s not something I do, ever, but I may have to start, because I’ll be taking care of them both from now on. “Get off me.” Of course, he would protest. He is like me, who does not like them either. But I see Anaïs do it and he seemed fine with that. “You and I are aware of what we are and because of that, we are bound to never agree. Maybe out of pride, or maybe out of narcissism, or maybe because we just want to prove to the other that only one could be the best. And because of it, I can never do what Anaïs could, and that is, to give you both the love and care you deserve. All I ask, is for you to let me try to understand. In honor of your mother, I will do everything in my power, to carry out and ensure that what Anaïs wanted from you both to achieve will be fulfilled.” I really want to drink right now and hear Anaïs. At the very least her voice could comfort me in these sappy times.

“Fuck you, Daiki.” Oh wow did he really disown me as a father, now that Anaïs is not around? This brat. He is truly my son. “Love you too, son.” 

I pulled away and took a few steps back before undoing the magnets. I wouldn’t want him to stab me again, so I had to limp backwards towards the exit. “I’m not going to fucking stab you, you idiot.” You already did, so what stops you from doing it again? I kept watch has he walked past me and out of the room. Funny how the family quickly turns dysfunctional with only one member gone. Well. She is the most important member, after all. The true MVP. I stumbled towards the alcohol cabinet and grabbed a bottle before heading to the couch. 

Soon enough, the paramedics arrived, tending to my wound. I was already drunk by then, the alcohol numbing most of the pain so they didn’t really have to give me anesthesia. They kept saying things but their voices were garbled and I have no fucking idea what the fuck they’re talking about. Though, one remained crystal clear and I knew all too well who it belonged to.

“You did well. I’m proud of you.”