#it feels nice out and its been a good day despite service :D

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Today I learned I can't draw babies

[purplehanfu]

Rating the Husbandos: The Story of Kunning Palace

notes: Spoilers! You really have your pick of men in this drama- but are any of them husband material?

Thoughtfully considered ratings behind the cut:

Xie Wei

A mysterious, tragic past is not a personality.

pros: Sexy as he looms over you in his fur collared capes. Exhibits very progressive thinking on women's issues. Which is strange considering all of his cons (see below).

cons: Explosive temper; violent; acts like he owns you; keeps trying to choke you (and not in a sexy consensual way); expects you to be grateful when he doesn't kill you in service to his grand revenge plan. Tough guy demeanor which he can only back up with the judicious application of his lackeys. Backstory so complicated you kind of lose interest. Looks like he has conjunctivitis a lot of the time.

hobbies: Making qins and tracking the wood shavings all over the house. Being afraid of snow except when the plot requires him not to be.

sexxin: Endless stamina and exquisite anatomy. Too bad he has no idea what he's doing. Cries after sex and gets mad when you laugh about it (why would you do that you monster).

Grade: C-

Zhang Zhe

Sometimes being hot is enough.

pros: HANDSOME

cons: His devotion to truth and justice will probably get him killed in the course of some courtly intrigues but the real tragedy is that he will never lie to spare your feelings. He will, however, compare your cooking unfavorably to his mother's.

hobbies: Restoring antiques; doing his own laundry

sexxin: Pathetic but you have to pretend it's great or he will become obsessed with improvement. At least the view is nice.

Grade: C

Yan Lin

A cheerful sweet ray of murderous sunshine.

pros: Smart, handsome, thoughtful, loyal, excellent martial arts, terrifying military skillset. You're his one and only, his ride-or-die, his day one.

cons: Related to Xie Wei

hobbies: Swordplay (see below)

sexxin: Complete freak in the sheets. Hope you have a strong bed and a soundproof bedroom, you're going to need both.

Grade: A+

Yan Lin's Dad

Reporting for duty.

pros: Has his own army but doesn't make a big thing about it (the Emperor and Xue family do, however).

cons: Frequently has the intensity dialed up to 11 when the situation clearly calls for a 6.

hobbies: Carving figurines for his 3-D map sandbox thing

sexxin: As expected of a military man he is good at taking orders and completing missions. His courage tongue should be awarded for its service to the nation you

grade: B+

Emperor

Heaven must have a sense of humor because it mandated this guy.

pros: Easily seduced by you.

cons: Easily seduced by people other than you. Married. Paranoid. Sickly but that might just be poison (if so add "unable to poison him" to the con list).

hobbies: Marveling at how good he is at seducing people.

sexxin: His game is as weak as his constitution.

grade: a solid F unless you want to murder your way to Empress, then he's a D

Fake Xie Wei

Ain't nothing like the real thing.

pros: social butterfly at parties, everyone knows him, can give you a wild night out on the town even if it's Tuesday and you're in some backwater village.

cons: is an actual con artist

hobbies: Collecting STDs

sexxin: so good you might be tempted to forgive him for his wandering eye. Don't. Just enjoy him if you must and move on.

Grade: D-

Gu Chun Fang

Hear me out.

You've been married more than 40 years. When your parents first arranged your marriage he snuck into your rooms that night to make sure you were ok with it. You fell in love at first sight. You never had children despite years of trying but he has never so much as looked at another woman. You come from a huge family and he has many young subordinates so your mansion is always very lively. Your New Year's parties are the stuff of legend.

pros: In all his years as an official he has never once made you get up early to help him get ready for court sessions.

cons: Would have no clothes if you did not buy them for him, would never eat if you did not arrange his meals, would fall asleep at his desk if you did not force him to come to bed.

hobbies: Collecting weird ugly giant rocks which he deposits in the various courtyard gardens of your mansion. Pretending to fish but really just taking a nap.

sexxin: After all these years you can still make him blush with a whispered invitation. Adorable.

Grade: A+ but he's not available and never will be

Dao Qin

It's always the quiet ones.

pros: Loyal; physique that was created as though by the gods themselves; surprisingly high EQ

cons: Kinda sad life made this guy an NPC when he has such strong main character energy.

hobbies: designing and crafting hidden weapons and/or cat toys

sexxin: You have seen the top of the mountain, and it is good.

Grade: B+

Master list of all show recaps etc.

[jamesbowman21]

The revival of vinyl: Why listeners are rewinding back.

In recent years, there has been a noticeable rise in vinyl record sales despite the more convenient and accessible methods now available through services such as Spotify or Apple Music. After being wiped out as the main method of music listening in the 80's by cassettes and then later CDs, vinyl sales started rising again in 2007 and have only gone up as the years have gone by. Throughout the past few years, vinyl has seen a meteoric surge in popularity, as “in 2021, a total of 41.7 million vinyl albums were sold, up by over 50 percent percent from the previous year” (Götting, 2022, para. 1). So, what is causing people to return to this more primitive form of music?

I created a brief survey with questions relating to vinyl records and why people buy them. I sent the survey to both friends and colleagues. The first question asked if people have bought vinyl records in the modern age of music, and here are the results amongst 13 usable responses:

It's important for me to add that one of the answers that could've been chosen was "yes, I bought a good amount", but no one chose this option.

What's interesting is that despite the fact that vinyl is a significant part of music once again, no one answered that they have a large amount of them, but rather only a few. Not to mention, the vast majority of participants answered that they haven't bought records in the modern age of music in general. This shows how even though vinyl has had an impressive resurgence in modern day, it still doesn't come close to the more popular alternatives. Online streaming apps and services such as Spotify, Apple Music, TIDAL, etc. offer an incredibly large catalogue of millions of songs usually for a relatively small monthly fee, usually around $9.99. Individual vinyl records usually cost somewhere around $20.00-30.00, and that is just for a single album. Aside from price, streaming platforms allows you to listen to music wherever you want rather than wherever your record player is. You can stream or download music to your phone, put some headphones in, and take the music with you anywhere. Record players are often much more large and bulky than a phone, making them less portable and accessible. Despite the financial and accessibility advantages in the streaming market, vinyl records are becoming more and more prevalent in the music industry.

Another question in the survey asked "What do you think is the main reason why people buy vinyl records when we have digital music services?". The possible responses were:

A. For the aesthetic

B. For the sound quality

C. To support artists they like

D. Write in option

The 12 usable results to the question said that it was for the aesthetic.

[One response out of the 13 total answered differently, but misunderstood the question]

The vinyl record's aesthetic is most likely the reason why it returned. Streaming music may have its benefits when it comes to convenience, but there isn't much soul in a digital music library. Vinyl records have the large, nice-looking album cover, and having a big physical copy of an album helps you feel more connected to it. Displaying a vinyl record can also help people express their love for a song, album, or artist/band. There is also a much larger sense of ownership when owning an album on a physicals format compared to simply having access to the songs on an electronic device. According to an article from Danckwerts and Kenning (2019), “music streaming services give their users access to a comprehensive music library without providing legal ownership of that music” (para. 1). So, while streaming gives you millions of songs to listen to, you really don't own any of it. If you ever stop paying for the service, your access to the music becomes severely limited. Vinyl records, as well as other physical formats (such as CDs, cassettes, etc.) let you literally hold the music in your hands, and it creates a bond between the music and the listener. Also relating to aesthetic, we have seen many modern musicians create songs clearly influenced from past decades. The sound of 80s synth-pop and 70s disco has been present in many artist's songs and albums, with some examples being Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa, What's Your Pleasure by Jessie Ware, Dawn FM by The Weeknd, etc. Artists may try to profit off of this retro aesthetic further by selling vinyl records to help the album feel more vintage along with the music.

The final question on the survey asked:

"If you were to buy music physically, what format would you choose?"

Here are the results:

The vast majority of participants chose vinyl, and it isn't too surprising why. While vinyl records are more pricy than both CD's and cassette tapes, they are larger in size, the artwork usually looks much nicer, and the record itself as well as how it plays has a charm different to the alternatives. One participant in the survey said they prefer vinyl because "they are aesthetically pleasing and they add to the atmosphere of a room". There also seems to be more charm towards the sound of a vinyl record rather than the more digital sound of a CD. As said in an article by Maria Vole (2021), “there’s a common belief that old-school analogue audio has a warmer, fuller sound than digitized music” (para. 8). Since CDs were one of the earlier forms of digitalized music, they've now become less fun versions of vinyl records with the success of digital music stores and streaming services. Vinyl records still retain a unique charm to their sound, have a larger more pleasing look, have a retro aesthetic, and look a lot nicer in a room than CDs or cassettes do.

Overall, it seems that the main reason why vinyl records have come back is their aesthetic. People seem to have taken a liking to the retro appeal in modern day, especially considering how digitalized our music listening experience has become.

Resources:

Danckwerts, S. & Kenning, P. (2019). “It’s MY Service, it’s MY Music”: The role of psychological ownership in music streaming consumption. Psychology & Marketing, 36(9), 803–816. https://doi.org/10.1002/mar.21213

Götting, Marie, C. (2022). LP/vinyl album sales in the United States from 1993 to 2021. Statista. https://www.statista.com/statistics/188822/lp-album-sales-in-the-united-states-since-2009/

Vole, M. (2021). Why is vinyl making a comeback? Reader’s Digest. https://www.readersdigest.co.uk/culture/music/why-is-vinyl-making-a-comeback

[be-gay-do-heists]

hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

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Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam. 

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

------

(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/. 

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”

[genesisrose74]

Requested by @blanknamed (aka my bestie fr): hihi i saw the matchup and remembered my irl friend sent me these pictures when describing my aesthetic at one point and was wondering if i can have a matchup with someone from dsmp and dr. stone 🥺congrats on 1k too! so proud of you ❤️ you deserve this milestone!

Arielle get over here and let me give you a virtual kiss on the forehead because you’re just the sweetest person to ever grace this earth 😚forgive me for the long wait but i had to put so much into this one because it’s for you!! thank you for always being such a ray of sunshine and for becoming one of my first ever mutuals so long ago — and as a show of my gratitude, i’ll get right into your first pairing, which is going to be with…

I had a literal conflict over this because I think you could be compatible with more than half of the characters in dr. stone (looking at gen specifically), but UGH you and Senku would be so damn iconic together. As much as he’s not intent on becoming romantically involved with anyone, it just so happened that you both had a chance meeting together at the school library — in the modern times pre-petrification, of course. You were looking for a book on the development of radiation powered technology for a history class, and by coincidence Senku was reading the blurb of that very text when you stopped by. When you asked if he’d read it, your classmate simply shook his head and said he just knew a lot about the subject, and soon enough a conversation blossomed from that point.

Y’all talked for two hours. While standing in the same spot. TWO HOURS. And it didn’t even stop there because he realized the time and asked if you wanted to talk more over a bowl of this really good ramen he knew about close by. Senku barely even realized the implications of his offer until much later, since…

He was way too involved in your conversation to notice

He’s never had any interest like that in someone before, let alone has he ever tried asking a person out in general

Everything about you was so interesting to him that he cannot process anything else going on around him and he doesn’t know why

You just feel so different in comparison to his dynamic with anyone else that it throws him off. He’s curious as to why he straightens up when you walk in a room, why everytime you smile at his stupid dry jokes it makes him more confident, why your intrigued questions about his work give him an extra burst of adrenaline. After he comes home late, having fallen asleep in the library while you studied for a test beside him, Byakuya eventually spells it out for Senku in massive bold letters.

No, seriously, he writes it on a whiteboard with a chunky black marker.

“That’s ridiculously far-fetched,” he asserts quickly, trying to push his old man out of the room. “Since when have I ever been interested in anyone in that way?”

“Senku, you waited for her to finish her work. Without complaint.”

And he’s like: oh shit—

But knowing Senku, he still makes some futile attempts to disprove the concept that he could ever be attracted to someone in a romantic sense. Ya know, all that, “science is my only devotion” shit. It lasted for about two weeks, which was the exact amount of time that he tried avoiding you in hopes of seeing if he could in fact continue his routine without your presence next to him.

The bitch still cannot swallow his pride though, so you have to be the one to make the first move — which is about as simple as perfecting Flight of the Bumblebee on a violin. Every time you try bringing it up, it’s like Senku gets a sixth sense about it and is pulled away from you as soon as possible. At some point you just had to corner him in the school lab, hands smacking against the surface of his work table and mouth blurting it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

He’s kinda impressed at the sheer willpower you displayed in finally getting the question into the air. And as much as he would hate to admit it, some happy nerves shot through his body when it happened. On the outside, though, he simply failed to fight a grin.

“Wanna get food with me tonight?”

And you did :D and it only went good from there. Dates at cafes with comfy chairs and pretty lighting, test runs of new experiments in the middle of the night that Senku calls you to see together, just enjoying the presence of one another in a secluded corner of the libraries you frequent. Even after the disaster that was petrification you’re both side by side, being sarcastic little shits to each other as soon as Senku frees you from the stone; doing new tests to save the world, going on picnics by the river, and constantly being of service to one another.

And then from the c!dsmp, I thought it was only fitting to match you up with…

^^ artwork by SAD-ist on YouTube

Listen, listen: I was considering a more standard/expected approach to this matchup, like maybe c!Wilbur or c!Niki because they’ve both got some major academia vibes. Especially Niki, because damn she’d probably take you to her flower shop and make handmade bouquets for you each day. However, I just think that it would be so perfectly fitting to have you and c!Sapnap together aesthetically. He’s very emotionally driven, always doing something stupid, and he probably hasn’t read a book since L’manburg claimed to be a sovereign nation. Regardless of that fact, he could sit and watch you read a book for hours, even if you didn’t ask him to. Standard case of grounded scholar + impulsive idiot = natural soulmates.

Within the region of the SMP, I imagine you like confining yourself to the libraries filled with ancient texts on the vast history of your home — although taking a visit to Eret’s self-made museum is always a pleasure as well. Niki gets along with you easily enough that you hang out together all the time, and it’s on one such occasion in the early days of L’manburg that Sapnap encounters you for the first time.

Dream had sent him out for scouting duty (which to Sapnap translates into, ‘be annoying to everyone within the walls’), and he’d taken to the edge of the country’s small borders, lounging up high above the trees so that he could see everything below with ease. To his surprise he found you, scribbling away within a ragged old notebook underneath a tree canopy, and wearing the prettiest smile he’d ever seen exist on a person before. You were waiting for your friend to arrive, it seemed, taking the ideas in your head and putting them to paper whilst you sat patiently. He was enraptured with you right away, and as a result he took to teasingly pestering you every chance he could.

Sapnap showed up at least once a week — and when he could, more than that — to slowly learn more about you. He tried staying under the radar of Wilbur when he did, just to make sure none of his endeavors were interfered with or got back to Dream in any capacity. Initially, his presence appeared a pain in your side, but your apprehension ultimately fell at the hands of his ridiculous humor and genuine inquiries as to your likes and dislikes. You knew who he was from the get-go, but it was hard not to find delight in his visits when he made such vigorous attempts to know you.

Although you’re sure he’d already learned it somehow, you told him your name one fateful afternoon, and he’s thought about that moment every day since, marking it as the first day he truly made progress in winning you over.

“You should come up here one day so we can talk normally,” he called out on a particularly overcast fall morning. “Maybe then I can see your face up close.”

You laughed, gazing up at him from the hillside on which you reclined. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not how this relationship works.”

“Mm, relationship? Sounds like you wanna gimme a kiss more than saying anything, hu—ow!”

A pine cone had clipped him in the shoulder harmlessly, chucked with expert aim by your own hand. Despite his surprise, Sapnap couldn’t help smiling.

“If you’re working that hard to twist the narrative and get me up there, how about you just come down instead?”

Without missing a beat the next day, he scaled to the top of the nation’s wall, made his way inside (with very little consideration for his safety), and took your face in his hands.

“You want me to?”

You already knew the implications. “Yeah.”

And he kissed you, then and there. Nice job, Ari!

Navigating a full blown relationship in the conditions y’all were in was not ideal. Sapnap tried everything he could to make sure you were safe, despite his distaste for your mother country and its leaders. After that cleared, though, it was a whole lot easier to be together and figure things out. Sapnap didn’t mind you staying within the walls as much as he initially thought because it reminded him of the first time you met, and so long as he could spend time with you he loved every second. Literally ask this man to do anything with you and he’s in, no matter what it is.

The sheer spontaneous energy Sapnap has inevitably feeds into your own, so while you’re much more contained than the pyromaniac, you have some very notable moments of crazy that are simply unforgettable. It’s honestly super funny to see that infectious life invade your senses, because otherwise you’re a super logical person and love entertaining yourself with the more simplistic things.

You work a lot with Wilbur on record keeping and cartography, but something that you and Sapnap apparently have in common is archery. That pine cone throw was no fluke, and he found that out when you came to visit, a shimmering bow fastened to a stock-full quiver on your back. It’s become a pastime to both ride out into the forest with your horses and practice archery (oftentimes mounted) as a way to let out frustration. If the weather conditions are too abysmal to go and do something outdoors, though, Sapnap likes to fall asleep watching you do methodical work, most commonly with his head in your lap as a fireplace crackles nearby. He’s a huge sucker for that cozy atmosphere, even though he tries to be all tough and badass at other times.

This became a huge ramble because I just think this pairing for you works so well, but I’m praying you get the picture. Sapnap is a flirty, slightly whiny, very protective, and free spirited person whenever you’re around, and he’d do whatever he could to see that pretty smile like the first day you told him your name. He thinks the world of you, and in his eyes your intelligence goes unparalleled.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Heyyyy! SO as a local comteologist- okay sorry lmao 😂 I was wondering! Could you maybe write about an mc that is very affectionate? Because I am like that and I would give my ALL and just everything for someone I love. So, maybe the guys are pretending to be asleep and they hear mc admitting her undying love for them? I don't want to burden you! So, I think Will, Jean, Leo and Napoleon would be fine :D

I love you! And please take care of your self cuz corona is a hondje- sorry lmao

Have all of my uwus my lovely, I relate HIGHKEY I’m ungodly affectionate irl~

You take care of yourself too! Tyty 💖💖💖 nothing to apologize for I love a good clowning, esp if Theo gets clowned in the process 😂😂

And never apologize for using my esteemed title I will die on this Comte-thirsting hill (☆｀• ω •´)ｂ

I hope these attempts bring you joy! 

William Shookspeare:

Our v creative playwright boy was just vibin’. He had a long day at the (obnoxious thespian voice) theater and while he loves the art with all of his being, the man is t i r e d. MC was late to bed and while he prefers to wait for her to join him no he is not horny perish the thought he just started dozing off from the exhaustion. He’s not sure when the lights go out, but he feels an immeasurable warmth around him. Faintly, he can make out a voice murmured at his ear, a gentle hand running through his hair. (I s2g if this bih says “Puck?” I’m gonna smack him for MC)

“Had a long day, hm?” He’s only just coming to, and can’t muster the energy to reply or open his eyes. “I’m sure this next performance will be the best one yet! You surprise me every day, Will...”

“Try not to work yourself too hard, sweetheart. Your work may one day be the world’s greatest marvel.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about the words that made his lips tremble. Was it the praise that always seemed to flow forth at a moment’s notice, the real kind he was so unaccustomed to? Or was it that unshakeable calm; her faith in him unmoved by any fear or doubt--the kind that made him wonder briefly if she was dull all those years ago. Now he was just thankful it was still here, no matter how undeserving he may be.

“But you will always be my entire world, my greatest marvel. I love you too much to let the world have you.”

Jeanne D’Arc (REEEEEE MY GOODEST BOY OTL):

It was early one morning, frost blossoming in fractals along the transparent surface of the bedside window. An inevitable, biting chill lingers in the room while the sun is fighting to climb past the horizon, its time so limited in these winter months. She watches as the light casts a gentle gray over the bare walls--something she promised to remedy soon--so reminiscent of how he appeared to her at first. Pure and bright, but still fighting off a darkness she knew so little about.

The thought made her draw him to her protectively, careful not to wake him up as she tucked him close to her heart. He was so warm, even despite the frigid weather. A product of his time as a soldier? She was never sure, but she was always touched by how often he used that warmth in service to her. 

She remembered earlier the other day, when she returned home from some grocery shopping with Sebas. Concern was overflowing from his stoic face--it was there if you knew where to look for it; his eyes a little more narrow, the line of his mouth closer to a frown. All at once his hands were reaching for hers, relieving her of whatever she allowed him to carry while walking into the kitchen alongside her. When Sebas stepped out again he took her hands in his, pressing them along his face. She had cried out, knowing her hands were freezing--it had to be painful to warm them in such a way. But he only smiled that beautiful smile to quell her distress, the one that always took her breath away, and insisted he could do no less.

“The same goes for me too, though, Jeanne.” she looked at the fierce mark on his face, so unworthy of someone so gentle. She resisted every urge to soothe her fingers across it, loathe to wake him up. She didn’t notice the fingers that twitched at her hip, his signs of stirring subtle. “Whenever you need me, whenever you can’t think of a good reason to walk out of this room. All you need to do is find me, okay? I love you so, so much.”

Leonardo Da Binchi (no i will not apologize. he deserves to be clowned, glorious moron):

Once again her lover was gloriously strewn across the library floor, arms crossed and fast asleep. An exasperated smile found her face at the sight. Perhaps it would have been a surprise at first, but nowadays she would just roll her eyes and walk past. Sometimes, if she was feeling forlorn or a little reckless, she would climb into his lap just as he was. He seemed to enjoy being woken up that way though, so of course she couldn’t give him the satisfaction every time; a woman likes to change things up. And sometimes she was too busy to spare the time.

Even so, the slowly dimming shadows under his eyes were a relief to see. While the celebration of his birthday could only be a blessing, she knew what a double-edged blade it could be. It invoked so many wounds that hadn’t yet healed. While she wished he would share that burden with her--however heavy it may be--she slapped her own cheeks lightly at the impatient thought. Give him time...

“I know you think you have to carry everything alone. And in some ways, it’s something I admire so much about you--the way you always seem to know just how to move forward. Like nothing can shake you.”

She leaned down close to him, bracing herself against the bookshelf as she pressed a kiss gently against his temple. “But know that whenever you find yourself wavering, or even if you just need a place to rest, I’m right here. I’ll always be right here. I love you so much more than you think, Leonardo...”

She stopped herself before she could finish the thought, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear: “more than my own life.”

Napoleon Bonaparte (oh my little lion man...):

They were spending a nice afternoon in the courtyard, as a lovey-dovey couple do, and they went under the veranda to find some relief from the midday sun. Surprising literally no one, our sweet emperor started to doze after some yummy tea time snackies--drifting asleep against MC’s shoulder. She adjusted a bit to change the angle of the lean, making sure he wasn’t putting too much pressure on his neck. Little puffs of air made her bangs flutter as he breathed low and even, and she smiled.

He’d had a guard jobs back to back recently, which meant precious little time to spend with him. Restless and quieter than usual, she had suggested a little stroll together around the courtyard; admiring the flowers and telling him about the books she’d been reading to fill the silence of those lonely nights. It wasn’t long before he started to smile more, snickering when she gave ludicrous summaries of the characters and plot. 

Early that morning she had taken the time to make perfect tea time sweets, fully anticipating--and hoping--it would encourage him to rest. So often he would be worried about her missing out on things or trying to plan more elaborate dates, but if she were honest she didn’t care much for extravagance or constant excitement. These tender moments where he could trust her (and the mansion’s perimeter) enough to fall fast asleep, no nightmares in sight, was enough to fill her heart with so much joy.

“I know you can’t help but want to do everything you can for the people around you; protecting and serving others is your life. I never want to be a reason you feel you need to stop doing that.” She murmured in the silence, playing with the buttons on his coat with a faint smile. “But even so, remember you always have a home to return to. More than that, no matter how powerful or skilled; you’re also one man. A man I love more than anything else in this world, a man I always want by my side--if he’ll have me, that is.”

She took the hand that was entwined with her own, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his palm as his lashes trembled. “I love you, Leon. Whether I see you every moment of every day, or only in stolen moments between assignments. That will never change. There will be times where you belong to the whole world, but this” she placed a hand gently over his heart “will always belong to me. Let it lead you home to me, sweetheart.”

And because I can’t help myself, I added Comte, Mozart and Vincent:

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (he’s the melody I can’t get out of my head DON’T LOOK AT ME):

Despite all of his promises to quit his bad habits, she opened the door later that evening to find him fast asleep against the covered keys of the piano. His shock of white hair was nestled comfortably against his arms, piled together as a makeshift pillow. The sight made her think of those long, long nights in college; thinking you’d close your eyes for a minute--only to be adrift in seconds. 

Smiling wryly, she reached into a nearby closet to retrieve a blanket before draping it gently across his shoulders. Torn between waking him up and guiding him to bed or leaving him be, she decided on the latter. She got the feeling that waking him up would only mean “a few more minor edits” to the composition he was working on, leaving sleep an afterthought. While she knew he often couldn’t help himself, she didn’t want him neglecting his health all the same. 

She’d be back with some hot chocolate in a few hours, just how he liked it.

As she was about to slip back out of the room, the hand at his elbow clumsily grasped for hers resting on the covered keys. Heat bloomed across her face, ears burning as he clung to her warmth. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” She sat down on the piano bench carefully, trying not to jostle him awake. “Your music will never stop being the most beautiful and soulful sound I’ve ever heard. But even a mind as impressive as yours needs plenty of rest--even more so, I’d wager. You work yourself too hard sometimes, Wolfie.” She leaned until her shoulder brushed his, “But I’ll always be here to make sure you don’t overdo it too much. Sweet dreams my only love.”

Vincent van Gogh (he’s babie your honor):

MC was on her laundry rounds, Vincent’s aprons now thoroughly washed and folded for his use once again. She knocked on the door murmuring a greeting--though fully anticipated he might not respond. While he was usually so sweet and attentive, it was almost like he became an entirely different person when painting. Utterly serious, intensely focused; any attempts at speaking to him would require many tries before he came back to himself with a beaming smile. 

She sighed dreamily, easily picturing it. His eyes would always be stunning, a cerulean to rival the calm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. But in the midst of his greatest passion? They burned bright enough to make her forget the rest of the world existed.

Trying not to embarrass herself on unsteady feet, she opened the door cautiously to find his easel abandoned. Shocked, she scanned the rest of the room until she found him strewn across the couch; a blanket haphazard in its provision of cover. With a gentle smile she stored away the fresh aprons in the dresser before she approached him, kneeling close to the couch so that she could tuck him in properly.

He let out a pleased little huff before shifting slightly in his sleep, body angled in her direction. There was a faint smile on his lips, evidence of what was likely a pleasant dream or peaceful rest. She traced the outline of his ear cuff with insatiable fingers, eyes glistening a little when he nuzzled into the faint touch--trapping her between his cheek and his arm. 

“You’re more precious to me than anything else in this world, Vince,” the murmur was barely audible, he didn’t stir. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and if I’m honest--no part of me really wants to imagine it. This warmth is the greatest gift I’ve ever known; thank you for choosing to share it with me. I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Le Comte de Saint Germain (SAN GERUMAN HAKKSHAKKU):

Every day is a long ass day when you have 10+ children (yes, Leonardo, you are in that child count I hope you’re happy >:| ). For all his half-hearted complaints about the exhaustion and noisiness though, he loves his bubs, and wouldn’t have things any other way.

Even so, it doesn’t stop the delighted giggling that shakes her shoulders when she finds him fast asleep in his favorite armchair. His tie is undone and askew, head lolling to the side--any attempt at his usual poise long forgotten. While she most often found him to be charming and delightful, she loved it even more when he felt comfortable sharing these parts of himself too. 

She set aside the tea she would always have prepared at this hour and reached for the coat he had draped across the opposite chair, settling it carefully over his form. Resisting every urge to join him--Sebas would need her help preparing dinner--she carded a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear so it wouldn’t tickle him while he was asleep.

He was so lovely like this, face unmarred by the weight of several lifetimes that found him when he was awake. No matter how early she rose when they were together, she rarely ever got the privilege of seeing him a little drowsy, lost to rest as he was now. She brushed light kisses to his eyelids, smiling when he half-sighed her name.

“Tuckered yourself out did you? You big worrywart.” She resisted the urge to find his hand and entwine it with hers. “I promise to watch over them, so rest easy, my dearest love.” She played with the collar, tucking him in further. “I know everyone here is precious to you. But remember that you’re the most important person in my life too,” she leaned her forehead gently against his. “While I love to see everyone get along, I love to see you happy and well-rested even more. You’ll always be the only one for me, [insert Comte’s real name].” 

Bonus continuation because I still can’t help myself apparently, somebody please take my laptop away from me:

Arms like steel bands enclosed her in his embrace, a sleepy exhale washing over her ear as she shivered a little at the sudden warmth.

“Mm, ma cherie, surely you didn’t think you’d get away with that kind of teasing...”

“But I wasn’t teasing you! I was completely serious.”

Laughter shook his chest and hers too, making her melt at the undisguised affection in the hands that settled her close to his heart.

“Then you must be punished for such foul play. To think you would ruthlessly attack me while asleep, bien-aime.”

“And how might I atone for this egregious indiscretion?”

She could feel him smile against her shoulder, the rascal. “Stay here a little while longer with me.” As if he had any intention of letting her go. Not that she minded, honestly.

“Threaten me with a good time.” she mumbled, stroking a hand soothingly along his back as they closed their eyes for a while.

A few more minutes couldn’t do any harm, could it?

[azucanela]

Dating korra would include

BEING KORRA’S S/O[GENDER NEUTRAL]

BEING ZUKO’S S/O | BEING SOKKA’S S/O

SUMMARY: life with korra from confession to marriage

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNINGS: no major spoilers 

A/N: SOMEONE WITH T A S T E, i hope you don’t mind but i kinda just did the same thing i did for my zuko headcannons so feel free to scroll straight to the during the relationship bit if you just want dating korra h/c :D 

also i have 300 followers now what, i literally had 200 like yesterday hi everyone <3 um i really need to start pulling out all the stops

GETTING INTO THE RELATIONSHIP

she’s a simp.

that’s it. thats the headcannon. she has literally liked you since she met you and has said nothing, but you probably know since she’s so damn OBVIOUS ABOUT IT

korra is very in tuned with her emotions so when she realizes she likes you she’s pretty okay with it, a little more flustered during your interactions, but after a while her goal is to make you feel how she feel which is flustered.

she has no shame though, she knows she is hot and she wants you to know she thinks you are hot

lots of flirting on her end, so naturally you kinda begin to think she is joking and think nothing of it

this was not her intent, and now that you are desensitized to her flirting and not reacting flustered like you did when she first started she is frustrated™

you were not understanding that she very much likes you

stupid

she hasn’t said anything outright to you about it though, which is the main reason you are like lol this is a joke, my crush fake flirts with me i am okay

spoiler alert: you are not okay with this it hurts ow

so now shes getting ridiculously affectionate with you, which, tbh, she always was, but not its RIDICULOUS, korra is out here throwing an arm around your shoulder, randomly grabbing your hand, kissing your cheek

shes trying really hard to get her point across like really really hard

like painfully hard

if she likes you its probably because your fun, like you really spice up her life and introduce her to new things and go on really dumb adventures and really important missions with her and you put up with her and wow now korra is simping oops

you’re also probably forcing her to stay healthy, since i honestly think that despite having such an appetite, korra will forget to eat and take care of herself sometimes.

she is so bad at drinking water i swear to goD

there are two situations here

situation one is where korra finally realizes that you CANNOT READ SIGNALS AT ALL and decides she going to be upfront with you about her feelings

she’s either going to just flat out kiss you next time she sees you or spill all her emotions, of both in no particular order

you’re like reading in your room in the air temple, just vibing, and you see her coming towards you with a determined look on her face and you’re like ??? lol okay

you go back to reading only to have her hand reach under you jaw and she brings you into a kiss and now you’re like LOL OKAY

you honestly think that this is just another one of her stunts to get you flustered and means nothing

stoopid

and then she pulls apart and just starts spilling her feelings and you’re like :O omg me too 

and she’s like, “great, we’re dating now.” and suddenly she’s kissing you again, and between kisses you’re like, “im sorry what?”

“you heard me. do you have a problem with that?”

you just kiss her again

situation two is where you get sick of her and realize woah she may or may not be in love with you and so you confront her, and now there is a lot of yelling because you are frustrated™ and like screw you korra

you honestly think she is either madly in love with you and just doing this as a joke, and you genuinely think the latter is more like so you lowkey start crying and korra immediately begins to panic

she’s like, “why would i ever joke about that! i’ve literally been trying to get that through your thick skull this whole time!”

this time you kiss her first and korra is throwing a party in her head but she also feels really bad for making you cry oops

DURING THE RELATIONSHIP

okay so korra happens to be very much a simp

and you happen to be very much the mom friend™ it doesn’t matter if you are a boy girl or none of the above, that is your trademark my friend

she’s very affectionate and now that the two of you are dating she is at a whole new level.

important meeting? you are in her lap she does not care. war meeting? she is cuddling you as you explain the plans of attack and DAMN DO YOU LOOK GOOD DOING it

since being the avatar is MUCH more a political position now though, she does try to keep your relationship slightly on the down low, even before you were dating, you both had reporters constantly asking about your relationship and she doesn’t really like that

they are nosy and she does not approve. korra understands wanting to know about her avatar duties, but anything outside of that in regards to her personal life annoys her

loves kissing you, and when she does it tends to be intense and passionate. after a particularly tough day though, her kisses can either be slow and sensual because she just wants to have a nice soft and domestic day with you

OR

they can be harsh and almost brutish, she will get rough with you because she is highkey pissed at everything that day and making out you with is her stress reliever

really likes cuddling and anything domestic in general. she’s really happy with you, and she kinda has all the love languages

she seeks validation when the press is particularly harsh since being the avatar is HARD and as much as she wants to, she cannot please anyone, so please tell her she is doing amazing

so many acts of service up in here, she will randomly do stuff for you, spontaneity is kinda her vibe ya know

very vocal and expressive about her feelings, communication is key with her

arguments aren’t a rarity tbh, but when they do happen they tend to be more of debates over little things like what’s better, pineapple pizza or no?

major fights tend to end poorly since she can be a little stubborn when it comes to such things, but she will admit she was wrong and apologize IF she was wrong

if she wasn’t wrong but the argument got out of hand, she’ll apologize for that but will affirm her correctness

kiss her scars, she has them, and she is proud of them but 

support her at her pro bending matches and she will DIE, so happy, literally sososososososo happy, hugs you, loves you, yes

treats you as an equal no matter what, even if people think that as the avatar she should see herself as something more than

very protective of you.

like if someone flirts with you, she is clingy x10. if someone hits on you despite your protests, she HITS them. if someone threatens to hurt you, she promises to end them. 

MARRIAGE N STUFF

WELP

she’s gonna realize she wants to propose when she almost loses you, or in the middle of a battle. when the reality of potentially losing you hits her she is gonna realize she wants to live out the rest of her life by your side, protecting you

situation one is where she literally, in the MIDDLE OF BATTLE, without a ring, just proposes. you are being a baddie, bending if you are a bender, fighting the opposing enemy, looking MIGHTY FINE while doing it

“marry me.”

you falter, nearly getting hit as your head whips over to her and you’re like, “ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

and she throws a giant rock at the opposition, temporarily indisposing them, “yes?? why wouldn’t i be.”

Someone comes up behind you and you elbow them in the face and ram your foot into their knee, knocking them down, “RIGHT NOW?” 

she throws a whip of water in your direction and you dodge it, allowing her to take out the enemy behind you, and you throw a whole dagger at her to do the same. “that was close.” she narrows her eyes at you bc you lowkey look like you wanna kill her rn as you two hide behind a barricade for cover and an explosion washes over it, “you could’ve killed me.”

“you just about gave me a heart attack when you PROPOSED two minutes ago, need i remind you.”

korra raised a brow at you, “is that a no...?”

“do you even have a ring?”

korra gives you a look that gives you the answer and you groan, “i cannot believe you.”

“you really should’ve expected this.”

“i know.”

“i get to pick the ring then?”

“you’re probably going to plan the whole wedding.”

“alright.”

theres a boom from beyond the barricade you two have hidden behind as korra looks to you, “alright?”

“i’ll marry you.” you elaborate, giving her a bright smile.

situation two is more depressing lol

you have been SHOT oops, don’t die pls because korra CANNOT handle it after everything that has happened to her, so if you die she’s done

she’s kinda just sitting at your bed side and it hits her that you could die basically any day now, and she would have so many regrets

she wished she kissed you more, told you she loved you more, held you longer, spent more mornings with you and your bedhead, she wished she learnt to cook so that she could surprise you with a meal when you get home from a long day of work, she wishes she did a lot of things

she wishes you two were married.

korra is now having an existential crisis, and everyone is telling her that she has to go home, get some rest, you’ll wake up eventually, you’ll get better, but you don’t wanna wake up to korra being a mess

she knew they were right, you always scolded her for not taking care of herself, so she decided to follow some of their wishes

Korra cannot bring herself to go home, there are so many reminders of you that it hurts, and she kinda just decides she’ll stay in a hotel and wash up and such.

besides, you are her home.

after leaving the hotel, she ends up going the jeweler and buying the ring she believes screams you

when korra returns to the hospital, she contemplated proposing right then and there, before realizing that you’d probably yell at her for choosing such a ridiculous time and you already had a lot on your plate

once the two of you return home and you are in the midst of recovery, she did learn to cook, so you wouldn’t feel the need to do so, and given your situation she fears you’ll injure yourself further in the process.

you two are eating dinner and you’re babbling on about something you’d read, and she suddenly decides to get up and walk over to you, leaving you like ???

then she gets down on one knee and you are like :O

she’s like, “marry me.”

naturally, you start crying and nodding because wow this is such an intimate moment and just happiness

kissinggggg after that 

the wedding is, under NO CIRCUMSTANCE public, the most private and intimate wedding ever. korra hates reporters after her life as the avatar, she doesnt want strangers at her wedding.

any and everyone she has ever fought beside is there though, its wholesome and nice

definitely cries when she sees you at the altar

her vows are MASTERFUL AND TEARJERKING 

its a pretty basic wedding though, unless you prefer something over the top, the food is nice a mix of both your cultures and favorite things and there’s beautiful lighting

definitely done on air temple island, and tbh tenzin would probably walk you down the aisle because i said so

married life with her is even better, she lives for he domesticity of it all, especially lazy sunday mornings with the light filtering in and you just looking all pretty and having a lil fun

iykyk

honeymoon in the spirit word lads

bolin is your number one supporter

life with korra is a 10/10 i do recommend it

A/N: im kinda in love with korra lol this requests made me happy

[secretpeachtea]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 10

Title: the big game

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: i present to you...a new chapter a little earlier than usual because im not good at making productive decisions for my life or getting enough sleep :D

Previous///Next

You’re greeting yet another hungry customer during work, but your surroundings are a bit different from usual. Today, you stand behind the Onigiri Miya food stall at Kamei Arena Sendai. Osamu had planned to set up a stall for the V. League Championships event to promote his restaurant. Even though he won’t admit it, he is also here to support Atsumu.

The different setting isn’t the only thing that was new, however. Today, you had an extra worker helping out with the stall.

“Dai-kun, can you refill the Grilled Mentaiko and Salmon onigiris on the shelf?” You ask a male standing behind you while passing an order to the awaiting hands of a father and his child.

He jokingly salutes at you. “Aye aye, captain!”

Kimura Daisuke is a cousin of yours that is a year younger than you and has recently moved into town to transfer into the local university. He currently has an online tutoring job but has shown interest in working at Onigiri Miya around the time you’ll be leaving. Having your cousin assisting today is sort of like a trial run for your boss to assess. It’s also nice to have an extra pair of hands since the day was surely going to be very busy.

Osamu suddenly bumps your shoulder. “Have I already been replaced as the boss? Kimura-san seems to listen to you more than his potential employer.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re just slacking?” A small giggle leaves your mouth and he returns your smile.

It’s been a couple of weeks since that day. After Osamu had walked you home in the rain, he didn’t treat you any differently during work despite the slightly intimate moment you two had shared the night before. You couldn’t bring yourself to mention anything, so you decided to just act like nothing happened. It was honestly a bit of a relief since you don’t think you really have the mental capacity to deal with your feelings while trying to prepare for your new life in graduate school.

Your thoughts are cut short when you hear Osamu let out a noise of recognition. “Oh hey! It’s you, uh...from Karasuno! You were the one with that really nasty jump floater!”

A tall male with freckles scattered across his face responds to Osamu’s exclamation. “Ah. It’s Yamaguchi.”

Your boss snaps his fingers as he remembers something. “Oh yeeeah. This is Sendai. Duh. It’s your home turf.”

“Yeah. But, even if it wasn't being held here in Sendai, there’s no way I’d miss this game.” There’s a certain glint in Yamaguchi’s eyes.

Osamu grins knowingly. “I bet you wouldn’t.”

As the two look up at the Adlers vs. MSBY banner behind the food stalls, you decide to voice the question that had popped up in your mind when Osamu first greeted Yamaguchi. “Hey, you said you went to Karasuno, right? Does that mean you were teammates with Sho-kun? Or, uh, Hinata-kun?”

Yamaguchi is a little flustered when he realizes that you’ve been listening to the whole conversation but nods his head. “We were on the same volleyball team all three years of high school. Are you a friend of his?”

“Yup! I actually met him in Brazil and we’ve been good friends ever since. He’s told me a lot about his former teammates, but I’m just bad with names.”

He points to you in realization. “Oh! So, you’re the friend from Brazil! Hinata’s mentioned you a couple times when we talked over the phone.”

You chatted with Yamaguchi a bit more and even got to meet another girl named Yachi who had also been involved with Karasuno’s volleyball club. Eventually, they both had to leave since the game was starting soon and needed to meet up with a friend.

Once the Adlers vs. MSBY game commenced, there weren’t that many customers, so you were able to watch the majority of the game undisturbed. You were, however, surprised to see Akaashi when he came up to the stall to buy some onigiris. You haven’t seen him since your first day of work, so it was a bit comical to witness him slightly deflating when you mention that you haven’t told anyone about the tax incident.

For the rest of the game, the only sounds you make are ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as you try your best to follow the fast pace (Although, you did meet a nice guy named Koganegawa who practically jumped like a child when you handed him his food). Even with all of the things you already know about the sport, this volleyball game was just too intense for you to digest everything. Before you knew it, the match was officially over with MSBY scoring the win. You felt proud of Hinata and was thoroughly impressed by all the other athletes you’ve come to know at work.

Osamu and Kimura both cheered in joy at the fantastic game as well. Even though you technically didn’t win anything, you still wanted to take advantage of the positive atmosphere, “Do you guys want to take a picture as a memory for this day?”

Your boss smiles. “Sure. I can take it with my phone. Get in!”

The three of you stand close to each other to get into the frame, with you being the middle. Osamu takes the picture and pulls it up to show you and your cousin how it turned out. Just as Osamu is about to take another photo, Kimura steps aside and you both look at him curiously.

“You guys should take a picture with just the two of you!” Kimura suggests.

You tilt your head in confusion. “What about you?”

“I just think you guys should take a picture together since you’re technically the ‘real’ workers...and some other things.” Your cousin mumbled the last part of his sentence, but you couldn’t ask him what he meant since he had already turned around to speak with someone at a nearby stall.

Both you and Osamu just shrug your shoulders at Kimura's explanation. Osamu puts his phone in a selfie position again and gestures for you to get closer. You comply and muster up the happiest smile you could make. The man beside you also produces a bright grin and snaps the picture. Afterwards, Osamu sends you both pictures and your expression softens.

Now that the game has concluded, there’s an influx of hungry customers that leave your stall busy for about an hour or so. Osamu has allowed Kimura to man the second register and your cousin has been doing fairly well for his first time on the job. After helping an elderly man with his order, the lunch rush seems to have finally died down.

You take off your apron and put it off to the side. “Osamu-san, Dai-kun. I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Will you guys be okay on your own for a bit?”

Kimura nods his head fervently.

Osamu waves his hand at you. “We’ll live.”

You snicker at his response and make your way into the closest restroom, which was actually a lot further than you expected. After taking care of your business, you walk out of the bathroom and see two male strangers loitering in the hallway, both adorning tracksuits of a team you can’t recognize. You attempt to walk past them unnoticeably but fail to do so when they stop conversing and stare at you with lingering eyes.

“Oh, hey there. You’re pretty cute.”

“Yeah. You got a boyfriend?”

The two men slowly walk over to where you’re standing and corner you against the wall from either side. You did not want to deal with this right now. “Doesn’t matter to you. Move out of the way.”

One of them scoffs and a drop of spit lands on your cheek. “What’s the big deal? We just complimented you. Can’t you see that we’re being nice?”

You wipe your face in disgust. “I’m trying to get back to work. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

As you try to push past them, you feel a rough hand grip around your wrist tightly. Another arm threateningly wraps around your waist and your steps are halted. You struggle a bit to escape, but their holds are too constricting. In the back of your mind, you wish Osamu was there.

You grit your teeth. “Let me go.”

The one with the grip on your wrist uses his other hand to grasp your chin and you glare at his face. “Listen, we’re volleyball players. Isn’t it like every girl’s dream to hang out with cool athletes like us? Clearly, being nice isn’t enough, so we’ll just have to use force.”

Having had enough, your instincts tell you to raise your leg and get ready to kick one of them. Just as you’re about to wreak havoc, a new hand grabs onto the wrist of the man in front of you. The vice grip on the man’s wrist causes his hold on you to loosen. The arm on your waist also disappears and you don’t hesitate to pull away.

In your haste, you almost lose your footing but someone catches you and pushes you behind them. Your face is assaulted by a comforting citrus scent and you immediately know who you bumped into. Sure enough, when you look up, a freshly showered Hinata is standing in front of you. He’s staring at the men who were harassing you and you’ve never seen him carry such an angry expression.

When you finally take in your surroundings, another familiar figure comes into view, his blonde hair still wet from washing up after his recent game. The mysterious hand belonged to none other than Miya Atsumu. “Looks like we’ve got some pieces of shit that leaked out of the bathroom.”

Surprisingly, Ushijima was the one who had pulled the other guy away from your waist. “Indeed.”

Both of them glare at the harassers coldly. Starting to feel a bit threatened, the strangers step aside and begin walking down the hall while looking behind them. “Ugh, these guys are just from those big shot teams. We better run before we get banned from playing.”

The men started to pick up their pace but suddenly ran into another tall figure. When they look up, Kageyama is intensely staring them down in silence. The strangers’ faces pale at the sight of the Adler’s setter.

“Dude, that's Kageyama! I think we made him angry!”

“Fuck! S-sorry!”

The two practically sprinted away leaving behind a rather confused Kageyama. He has absolutely no idea why they ran away from him. Despite what had just conspired, you internally laugh at how unaware the male was.

“Are you okay, (Name)-san?” Hinata turns around and faces you. Any traces of anger had completely dissipated from his face. “They didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“I’m okay. I appreciate it, Sho-kun.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“Man, those guys are scum,” Atsumu says with clear irritation in his voice. Even through his irritation, you can still recognize the concern in his own eyes as he focuses his attention on you. “Lucky you had your knights in shining armor?”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Atsumu-san.” You raise your eyebrow at his words but wonder if this was his way of comforting you.

The blonde raises his hands in front of him in a defensive stance. “Oh, I know. I’m sure you can deliver a nice blow to the next guy that dares lay a hand on you, sweetheart.”

Ushijima speaks up from his usual quietness to give his own input to the conversation as he remembers a certain incident the first time he visited Onigiri Miya. “She has actually already done so to one of my former teammates.”

Atsumu smirks. “Well, damn.”

You get flustered for being exposed by the stoic spiker. “It was an accident!”

Before you could suffer any longer, the moment is interrupted by loud voices echoing the halls.

“Oh, wow! Are we finally gathering for that arm wrestling competition?” Spiky grey and black hair animatedly sway from side to side as Bokuto sees all of you together.

Behind him, Hoshiumi runs up to the group enthusiastically and starts to jump in place. “Oh, boy! Count me in!”

Kageyama blankly stares at his bird-like teammate. “Ah, Hoshiumi-san.”

With the addition of two more rowdy people into the group, Atsumu looks like he’s about to have a heart attack with the way he clutches his chest. “No, no! We’re doing this again?! What is this ‘let’s overwhelm the reader part 2’?!”

You have absolutely no idea what he was talking about and just shake your head in indifference. It was probably best to just leave him alone in his own strange distress.

Your movement catches Hoshiumi’s attention and the male waves his arm in greeting. “Oh, hey (Surname)-san! Did you watch our game? Did you see my skills?”

You giggle at his excitement. “I did. I was impressed by your jumping ability. You all played really well. ”

Bokuto perks up at your comment. “You have a pretty nice view from Myaa-sam’s stall, so you’ve seen all of my spikes too, right?!”

“Of course, Bokuto-san.” You briefly check your phone and realize that you’ve spent far too long going to the bathroom. “Speaking of ‘Myaa-sam’, I should probably head back to work.”

You quickly waved to all of the volleyball players and they each gave you their own warm goodbyes before walking back to their own locker rooms. However, one person stayed behind.

“I’ll walk you back, (Name)-san!” Hinata offers.

“You don’t have to. It’s not that far of a walk.” You put your hands in front of you.

He shakes his head and sends you a friendly grin, but a hint of concern is laced into his eyes. “Just in case.”

Understanding his worry, you nod and let him stay beside you as you start walking down the hallway. Right as you turn the corner, a figure wearing a face mask leaning against the wall startles you.

Hinata is momentarily shocked as well but relaxes when he realizes that it’s just another one of his teammates. “Omi-san? What are you doing here?”

Sakusa doesn’t answer Hinata and moves away from the wall to make his way towards you with his hands in his pockets. As soon as he’s in front of you, a single word leaves his mouth, “Hand.”

You’re confused but slowly lift up one of your hands anyways.

“No, the other one.” Sakusa looks at your other arm.

You comply and lift up your other hand instead and without warning, the masked man takes his hands out of his pockets and squeezes a generous amount of hand sanitizer on the wrist that was manhandled a couple minutes ago.

You stiffen at the sensation and just watch in bewilderment as Sakusa leaves without uttering another word. “What...just happened?”

Hinata softly smiles at the interaction. “That’s just how Omi-san shows he cares.”

“Me? Why would he care about me?” You ask.

“Hm...that’s something even I’m not too sure about. Omi-san can be pretty hard to read.” He places a finger on his chin in contemplation. You hum in understanding and spread the hand sanitizer around your wrist thoroughly.

Both of you continue walking back to the food stalls when Hinata comes up with an idea. “Since you’re here already, do you want to meet my former teammates from high school? They’re all staying for the whole duration of today’s games, so you can meet them after you finish work!”

“Are you sure?” There’s a small part of you that wants to meet the people who helped shape Hinata’s bright personality. “I wouldn’t want to impose on your reunion.”

“It’s no problem at all! We already kind of met up after the game, and I would love everyone to meet you since we’re also close friends! Kageyama will be there too, so you’ll know at least one other person.”

You give it another moment of thought before answering, “Alright. I’d love to meet them.”

You finally make it back to the Onigiri Miya stall after what felt like hours even though you’ve only been gone for a little while. Osamu nods his head at you first and Kimura vocally welcomes you back.

“Ah, I was wondering what was holding you up.” Your boss turns his attention to Hinata and gives him a pat on the shoulder. “Hey, man. Good game out there.”

“Thanks, Miya-san!” Your orange haired friend gives you a quick hug. “I’ll see you later, (Name)-san!”

“See ya, Sho-kun! I’ll text you when I’m free.”

Once Hinata leaves, it’s just the three of you behind the stall once again. Osamu claps his hand loudly and glances at his two co-workers. “Ready for round 2 of the pre-game lunch rush?”

“Yes, sir!” Both of your voices respond back in unison and you all get to work.

All three of you let out a final huff as you finish packing up all of the supplies and equipment used for the stall. You’ve been working nonstop for a couple hours now, but the day is finally over and everything has been cleaned up.

“You said you were meeting up with those Karasuno folks, right?” Osamu questions. “You can head over to meet them now.”

“But, what about all of this stuff?” You point at all of the boxes and tables you’d just organized.

“Kimura-san and I can take care of it. I rented out a van to move everything, so we’ll just borrow two carts to avoid any second trips,” your boss explains. He walks behind you and gently places his hands on your shoulders. “Don’t worry about us and go do your thing.”

Without much room to argue, you’re pushed away from the stalls. “Okay, okay. I’m going. I’ll see you tomorrow, Osamu-san. See you around, Dai-kun!”

Both men respond back with a shout of their own and part ways. You quickly shoot a text to Hinata telling him that you’re done. Your friend messages back immediately and lets you know where everyone was meeting up.

It wasn’t too difficult to find the Karasuno alumni since their group stood out quite a bit from others. You were able to spot Hinata first because of his apparent orange hair and even Kageyama’s furrowed eyebrows have become common enough for you to recognize. You walk over to where they are and try to position yourself in your friend’s line of vision.

“(Name)-san, you’re here!” Hinata makes eye contact with you and cuts off the conversation he’s having with a tall blonde to greet you. “Our old coach left with our kouhais since it was getting late, but most of my former teammates are here.”

Now, you’ve caught everyone’s attention and feel a bit flustered. “Um...hello. I’m Sho-kun’s friend, (Surname) (Name).”

There’s a brief pause and you wonder if you’ve already done something wrong. Suddenly, a chorus of ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet yous’ fill your ears and you’re slightly overwhelmed by the enthusiastic greetings.

A broad shouldered man approached you first with two other people following closely behind. He holds out his hand and you place your own in his for a handshake. The handshake is firm yet comforting. “It’s finally nice to meet you, (Surname)-san! I’m Sawamura Daichi, former captain of the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball club.”

The grey haired man with a mole under his eye introduced himself next, “Sugawara Koshi! Hinata’s told us a bit about you, so it’s nice to finally be able to put a face to the stories. This guy next to me is Azumane Asahi; he’s a bit of a shy one.”

“S-Suga! I’m not like how I was in high school anymore. Stop teasing me!” Asahi whined to his friend before turning to you once again. “I’m Azumane Asahi.”

The rest of the group took turns introducing themselves and you were delighted to see Yamaguchi for the second time today (Although, you’re not sure why Kageyama introduced himself again since you’ve already met before). You felt more comfortable knowing that you weren’t the only girl in the group, but you’d be lying if you said that Kiyoko didn’t seem a bit intimidating with her beauty. Even Yachi’s cuteness almost blinded you.

You were in the middle of telling Yachi and an uncaring Tsukishima how you’d met Hinata in a foreign country when the man named Tanaka let out a shout to get everyone’s attention, “Guys! Noya-san wants to video chat!”

Most of the guys crowded around Tanaka’s phone and eagerly waited for ‘Noya-san’ to appear on the screen. It wasn’t long before a man with spiky dark hair and a tuft of blonde popped up a little too close to the camera. “Ryu! Everyone! What’cha guys been up to?! I caught a Marlin this morning!”

“Nishinoya! We’re doing great! We’re just meeting up for a bit before we have to leave. Hinata brought his friend too!” Daichi responds.

At the mention of a new friend, Nishinoya’s eyes light up. “Oh! Who are they? Can I meet them?”

Tanaka shifts his phone so that you’re the only one visible on camera. Feeling a bit awkward, you just give a slight wave. “Uh...hello, I’m (Surname) (Name).”

For a minute or two, the male just stares at you with wide eyes. You have no idea what to do, so you just stand still and hope for someone to intervene. Nishinoya is the first to speak and his tone turns serious, “Ryu, take me to Shoyo.”

Tanaka turns the phone to Hinata who is just as confused about the sudden change in demeanor. Once the focus is on the MSBY spiker, Nishinoya holds out his arm in front of him as if he were virtually holding the younger man’s shoulder. “You’ve done well, my young disciple.”

Hinata blinks. “Huh?”

The audio almost cuts off as Nishinoya yells his next few words, “SHE’S GORGEOUS!”

Your cheeks turn bright pink at his exclamation as the rest of the guys laugh at their friend’s antics. You weren't sure whether to feel embarrassed or flattered by the compliment.

Luckily, the excessive attention on you is short-lived as Nishinoya switches to another topic. “Should I send you guys some souvenirs? I saw this strange mask that kind of looked like Ryu from high school, and I think you guys would really like it!”

Tanaka looks amused and begins to smirk when a sudden idea pops into his head. “Noya-san, you should definitely get Daichi-san one of those!”

Daichi begins to panic. “What do you mean, Tanaka? What are those?”

“Ah, yes!” Sugawara mischievously grins. “I think he’ll like one of those!”

At this point, Asahi is nervously sweating.

Hinata looks up at Kageyama, perplexed. “Kageyama, do you know what they’re talking about?”

“No, dumbass.”

“What?! Why’d you have to add ‘dumbass’?!”

“‘Cause that’s what you are.”

A new voice pitches in. “Oh? Is the tyrant back for his new reign?”

“Tsukki!”

You’re standing off to the side with Kiyoko and Yachi, sweatdropping at the chaos enfolding in front of you. “Were...were they always like this?”

“Yeah...they haven’t really changed, huh.” Yachi lets out a lighthearted sigh. Kiyoko laughs softly.

It takes a couple minutes before everyone calms down, and Tanaka eventually ends the call with Nishinoya. It doesn’t even take a second before Sugawara makes a suggestion. “Hey, guys! We don’t know when we can all meet like this again, so let’s take a group picture!”

Tanaka jumps in agreement. “That sounds like a great idea!”

“I can take the picture,” you offer and Sugawara passes you his phone gratefully.

Hinata steps to the spot next to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to be in the picture too?”

There’s no way you’d feel comfortable butting into their picture, so you shake your head. “No, it’s fine. This is your reunion. I promise I’ll take some nice pictures.”

Everyone gets into position and you take multiple photos while making sure to capture all of their comical poses. Once everyone is satisfied, the group relaxes.

Daichi checks his watch and musters a tired sigh. “Alright. I should probably head back to work. I’m up for a night shift today.”

“I have to go too. I have a couple exams that still need to be graded by tomorrow.” Sugawara stretches his arms upwards. “We should definitely eat together next time!”

Everyone seems to agree to call it a day which is your cue to leave as well. “It was nice meeting you all.”

Asahi smiles at you. “Same here! If anything, we’re glad Hinata was able to find a good friend while he was in Brazil. We were all pretty worried about how he would fare in a new country.”

Hinata rubs the back of his head bashfully and you share a knowing look with him. “He helped me out just as much, so I’m glad too.”

After parting with the Karasuno alumni, you stopped by the bathroom before heading out. It seems like the universe has decided that you haven’t had enough chaos today when a shadow looms over you and a chill washes over your body.

You quickly turn around ready to chuck your bag at the mysterious entity but stop yourself when you make eye contact with yet another familiar individual. He’s once again in a professional black suit alongside his usual bedhead. “What the f-! Kuroo-san?”

Said male smirks. “In the flesh. How have you been, register girl?”

“What are you doing here?” Your body relaxes, but your mind is still sharp since you never know what the man is plotting.

“I work for the Japan Volleyball Association. I think it would be natural for me to be at a volleyball game, “ Kuroo explains nonchalantly.

“Could you not sneak around like some horror movie creature?”

“Oho! Already so sassy and we’ve only met once before!”

“You just give off a sassable vibe.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Whatever you want it to be.”

“Are you dating him yet?”

Kuroo’s sudden change in topic catches you completely off guard and almost stumble in place even though you’re not even walking. “...who?”

He lets out a pitiful sigh at your uncertain answer. “Poor guy…”

You’re confused as to why Kuroo’s acting like this, so you just stare at him blankly. He doesn’t seem to want to answer your unasked question and instead brings up another subject. “Well, if you’re still single, you wouldn’t happen to be interested in a guy that streams online and is also a CEO of a company?”

“If you’re trying to set me up with who I think you’re trying to set me up with, then it’s gonna have to be a no,” you quickly reply. Kuroo looks a little disappointed and you feel a bit bad for shutting him down so harshly. “Not that Kod- Kozume-san is a bad guy or anything. I just...don’t think getting in a relationship right now would be a good idea. I’m gonna be super busy and I won’t be here for much longer anyways.”

The lanky man’s expression shifts to one of curiosity. “You going somewhere?”

You suppose you should get used to explaining yourself since you’ve only told a handful of people about your future plans. “I’m going to a graduate school a couple hours away, so I’ll be out of this area in a few months.”

“What are you studying?’

“Sports medicine.”

Kuroo lets out a low whistle. “Never took you as the type to study something sports related, but that’s pretty cool.”

He reaches into the pocket of his blazer and takes out a business card. He offers it to you with a smirk on his face. “Here’s my business card. My number’s on it.”

You raise your eyebrows at his gesture and cautiously take the card. “I still have your number from when you sent me pictures, remember?”

His eyes lighten up at your revelation. “I’m flattered that you never deleted it. Pass this to a friend of yours if you’d like then.”

“Is there a reason you wanted to give me your business card?” You place the card in your bag for safe keeping.

Kuroo’s face softens. “Give me a call after you graduate. I can hook you up with a few connections for a job.”

Your eyes widen at the unexpected kindness. You’ve only met the guy twice, but he’s already offering to do something so helpful. If you didn’t already know the people he surrounded himself with, you would have definitely been more suspicious of him. “That’s...really nice of you. Thanks, Kuroo-san.”

“Anything for my best friend’s number one fan.” He points to the Bouncing Ball keychain dangling from your bag and you feel a bit shy. The man then places a hand to his chest and lifts his other arm to the side. “Plus, I’m always this kind.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

The two of you exchange amused expressions before you finally head out of the building. The night air is refreshing after spending an entire day inside of a crowded gymnasium. Despite the variety of personalities that you’ve met in a span of less than an hour, you’re walking off feeling strangely at ease.

A/N: cockblock atsumu strikes again but for the good of the universe this time :D

In case you’re wondering why i added Kimura (cousin) suddenly, i just made him the little dude working with osamu at the stall in the manga hehe

Also:

2 MORE TIDBITS LEFT

taglist: @kiyoo-omi, @tris-does-stuff, @livshotel, @bokuatsubro, @akkeyomi, @kaleidoscopekai, @hirugachan, @geektastic84, @ntimacy, @sagefzy

[leah-halliwell92]

Not Much of a Slave

Summary: @xbreezymeadowsx​ requested some Lady D love. We can all agree she needs all the love. (WARNING: Mentions of rape 18+ only please.)

Brianne fidgeted with her apron for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning. The lady and her daughters would be calling on her soon, she needed to be prepared for any eventuality. She knew that they could kill her in a heart beat her blood being of no use for her ladyship’s wine. She shivered as she remembered Anton’s alcohol laced breath on her face as she cried for help that never came. 

She could still see the look of betrayal on her father’s face when she arrived home. Her mother knew that the occurrence wasn’t one done willingly from taking one look at her ripped dress and reddening cheek. Her father however saw it as a slight and believed it to be staged in order for her to get out of punishment for laying with men while out of wedlock. Her mother’s gasp of outrage rang through their home at his blatant disbelief of their youngest child, your elder sister having married as soon as she was able. 

//flashback//

“She’s of no use now,” he said hatefully. 

“She was raped Jonathan!” Her mother yelled angrily, “How many a young girl has been hurt in such a way by Anton? You know more than well that he’d do such a thing when he is heavy in his drink.”

“You’d believe her sob story woman,” he said spitefully, “Don’t you see she’s playing you?”

Her mother scoffed, “Yes because one can rip their own dress in such a way and hit themselves hard enough to bruise.”

His glare did not waver and said, “She’ll be sold tomorrow to the highest bidder.”

Her mother gave a shrill cry as she slapped him hard across the face.

Brianne looked on in shock and despair as her father made his decision known. She is to be sold like an animal then. Anton would probably buy her after his actions earlier that day. And should that be the case then her death was as sure as the sky is blue.

“Have it be known Johnathan Smith,” her mother began passionately, “That on this day, for your choice to disregard your youngest child and Mother forbid sell her, you have lost your wife.”

Your father scoffed an attempted to approach your mother.

“Do not presume I’ll give in,” she said eyes hard, “You’ve already made the choice and there is nothing I can do to stop it. You’ve taken the last of my children from me and I have nothing else to give. Stay away from me John.”

She guided Brianne into her room where her mother proceeded to clean her up as best she could. 

“Let the shock run its course,” she said tenderly as she bathed you and changed you into your best clothes, “Better for it to make you hyperaware than in a complete haze.”

Brianne felt herself nod and let her mother fuss over her for the last time. 

Once dressed, she sat with you through the night neither of you feeling well enough to sleep until dawn broke. She saw her father at the breakfast table and opted to sit as far from him as their small house allowed. 

Breakfast was made for her and her mother, the latter letting father fend for himself, before they set off to the Duke’s. Her mother had said that if she couldn’t save you from being sold then she’d sell you to the one person that had the ability to set you free.

Little did the two of you know that freedom would come at a cost.

“We better make haste for–” Her mother cut Johnathan off.

“We’ll be at the Duke’s,” your mother said, “Whatever lei I get I will keep myself and use as transport, may life treat you as fairly as you treated us.”

Brianne looked at her mother eyes wide not expecting her to just make the choice to leave.

Her father remained quiet at this eyes wide as all seemed to hit him all at once, “You couldn’t...I forbid it!”

Her mother scoffed at this and said, “I remember forbidding you from doing anything rash against any of my children when we married. And yet you did, you made the choice to sell our youngest for something she had no control over.”

//time skip - 3 years//

You’d been in the care of the Duke for nearly a year when business took him to Castle Dimitrescu where her ladyship for some unknown reason took pity on you and bought you from the Duke’s service. The fat man seemed saddened by this and for the first time, possibly ever, haggled a for your price. 

“90k,” the lady had said, “And that is my final offer.”

The Duke mulled over the offer and was ready to deny the lady again when he saw you shake your head. It was a nice chunk of change you knew, you are after all just part of the business. 

//end flashback//

“Brianne!” Bela called giving the young woman a ‘playful’ shove, “Mother’s called for you.”

“Wouldn’t want to keep her waiting,” Cassandra said poking at Brianne with the but of her dagger.

“Don’t slice at her Cassandra,” Bela said with a laugh, “You know how cheese gets everywhere.”

“I do, which is why I play with her,” Cassandra replied with a cackle, “Her blood spilled will paint the hallway oh so prettily.”

The flies swarmed about Brianne as she made haste in going to her mistress’ side. She let out a fearful scream as the flies engulfed her and carried her through the hallway the sound of triplet cackles in her ears and around her as they went. 

She yelped as she was practically dumped into the Lady Dimitrescu’s personal room. Brianne tried, and failed, to keep her wince and gasp of pain at bay as flies flew out from beneath her skin. The flies re-materialized as the three sisters, cackling as crowded her taunting her like wounded prey.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Lady Dimitrescu said loudly, standing to her full height. 

Alcina Dimitrescu looked down to find Brianne heaving on the floor.

“And why is my personal servant on the floor?” She asked cocking a brow as she glared at her daughters in displeasure. 

The sisters looked at each other in worry and curiosity. They’d always played with their mother’s toy, as they should since her blood is useless anyway they would take what they could get from her. After all, why should their mother care more for prey than her own daughters?

“She was being slow mother,” Bela said with a careless shrug.

“She is after all prey,” Daniella said backing up her sister.

“Should we not eat our prey mother?” Cassandra asked kicking Brianne’s arm as she was starting to stand.

“Enough!” Alcina said at Brianne’s pain filled gasp, “She is my personal servant. As my daughters you should know by now that while I share as it is ours to feast, when one is mine for my own use I expect that to be respected.”

The three girls cowered as their mother nailed them with a glare.

“Meaning that no one is to injure my personal pet,” she glared at them one last time before waving a dismissive hand at them, “Get out of my sight. You girls have disappointed me for the last time over my use of my pet and I’ve grown tired of it.”

The sisters glared at Brianne and Bela dared to take a swing at her in front of their mother.

Brianne cried out in pain as Bela’s hit sent her to the farthest wall.

Cassandra and Daniella dragged their sister out of the room before their mother could do anything the two in shock that their sister would go so far.

Her daughter’s gone, Alcina went to tend to their only living charge. She’d promised the Duke that the girl would remain unharmed despite her having paid a good sum of lei. Alcina has to admit that for some reason this girl pulled at her long dead heartstrings. 

She picked up Brianne tenderly being careful of where she’s been hurt. 

Brianne winced and said, “Their jealous you know.”

Alcina hummed as she ran a salve soaked cloth on her little pet’s cheek, “They will have to learn that a mother has needs.”

“They don’t understand why it is you are so caring over prey,” Brianne said honestly.

“You are not prey,” Alcina hissed, “You are mine.”

Brianne gave Alcina a tender grin and gave an experimental stretch.

“Better?” Alcina asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Brianne replied automatically. 

Alcina gave a her pet a grin and bent to her level. She ran her nose over the young maid’s neck breathing in her scent and blood.

“Good girl,” she said huskily, “I want you to come to me should my daughters get out of hand again. It is not their place to use you as they please.”

Brianne nodded at this but let it slide. While she’d do her best to let Alcina know there isn’t a guarantee that the sisters would leave her walking should a repeat performance occur. 

“Good,” Alcina said, “Now we must go to the church, Mother Miranda has ordered a family meeting.” “Do you think she’ll show up to this one?” Brianne asked as she followed behind Alcina out of the castle.

“Not sure,” Alcina said and waited the appropriate time as Brianne helped her into the old car, “But for all these meetings she made clear that she’s been favoring Heisenberg lately.”

“Which is good,” Brianne said carefully. 

“I suppose so,” Alcina said with a sigh, “After all the more attention is off me the more we can plan our escape. Donna’s been itching for company and Karl has promised that he will give me a signal when the time is right.”

“And the girls?” Brianne asked carefully.

“They shall either follow their mother or perish,” Alcina said pain in her voice and perfect features, “Mother Miranda’s goals do not include any of us Pet. And it took a human maid to tell me so.”

Brianne looked down submissively only to have Alcina raise her head up.

“Do not be ashamed my pet, you have done more for me than most have no matter how long or short their stay has been,” Alcina said with a gentle grin.

Brianne gave a silent prayer of the souls of her fellow friends and former neighbors.

In the church, Brianne kept her head down as she stood besides the bench Alcina sat in. Donna and Karl were already there and she was sure that Moreau was not too far behind. 

“Good evening sisters,” Heisenberg said with a respectful nod.

Donna nodded and Alcina gave him a small grin and nod.

Before anyone could say anything Moreau walked in and not too long after Mother Miranda walked in. Brianne knelt behind Alcina’s bench keeping as low a profile as she could whilst the meeting was in session. 

The meeting was swift, almost too swift for something to held face to face but she has no place to say anything. Least of all to the woman that can kill all of them with snap of her fingers should she want it. After Miranda left and Moreau not long after, Brianne took this time to stand and get the feeling back on her legs.

“Poor human can’t seem to find her sea legs,” Angie said with a squeal-y giggle.

Brianne sighed and held onto the back of the bench as the pins and needles thankfully subsided. 

Angie kept poking and prodding cackling as she went.

“Oh is the human getting angry?” The doll asked before laughing again.

With a sigh Brianne looked to Donna and said, “I truly am sorry for this. Should my lady allow it, I’d gladly join you for tea and keep you company.”

Donna cocked her head at this confused by Brianne’s words. 

“Whatcha gonna do about...hey what are you doing?” Angie asked when she saw the look in Brianne’s face.

“Fuck you crazy ass doll!” Brianne said frustratedly as she hiked up her skirt.

She gave a grunt as she gave Angie her best kick effectively sending the unsuspecting doll to the other side fo the church much to Donna’s dismay and Heisenberg and Alcina’s delight.

“About damn time someone shut that doll up,” Heisenberg said, “I have to say Alcina your girl does have some spunk.”

“I love you Donna,” Brianne said honestly, “But Angie has been grating at my nerves for months now. And this includes the errands I’ve run for my Lady.”

Donna nodded in understanding and quietly said, “Forgiven.”

Alcina had to grin at her pet, such spunk is truly a breath of fresh air. Luckily her human knew when to push and whom to push. 

Brianne heard the sound of heavy boots and knew Heisenberg was close.

Brianne turned to face him and though he is a handsome man, her interests lay else where as she is certain he can see from the fading bite marks on her neck.

“Must be nice to have a warm body to feast from Alcina,” Karl said teasingly.

Alcina was going to say something when Brianne said, “Better warm body than a cold shower...that is if you know what that even is.”

Alcina and Donna laughed at the dig.

Heisenberg reddened under the beard before chuckling, “Well played buttercup.”

“You my dear have earned yourself a treat when we return home,” Alcina said standing bidding Donna farewell and a “glare” at Heisenberg, “What do you say to a present tonight?”

Brianne’s face brightened at this causing Heisenberg to scoff but grin before nodding at them and leaving to his own home.

“Yes ma’am,” she said teasingly.

Alcina grinned at her, “Good girl.”

[ficforce]

Burns Relationship Alphabet

Two types of F!Reader

A- Activity (What is their favourite activity to do with Y/N.) Quiet Reader: Y/N and the Captain like using their days off to go on trips, it may seem boring but they like to check out the churches on the edges of the Empire, they’re small and charming. Most of them are located outside of towns and often surrounded by green grass. They’re not as grand as company 1’s Cathedral but they’re humble and peaceful. They go for the journey more than anything and to be away from people they know - it makes it easier to be themselves. Loud Reader: Burns is rather generous and he likes to buy things for Y/N, she always tells him she can get it herself but he ignores her and does what he wants. Y/N likes clothing and has far too many outfits, a way around their disagreement on parents is for Leonard to take her out shopping for an outfit he’d like to see her in. It’s Win/Win. B- Beginnings (How do they act in the beginning of a relationship) Quiet Reader: The Captain was adamant he would never have a relationship, he had too many secrets and did far too much of the Church’s dirty work for it to ever be safe to have a partner. So when he met Y/N after a horrific fire that took her home and her roommate, he didn’t think offering her shelter in Company 1 was going to be an issue… But as she came to him for guidance or someone to talk to about losing her faith, he couldn’t help but lower his defences around her. When Y/N made the first move to kiss him, he rejected her as gently as he could. He couldn’t risk putting her in danger or having her be used as bait. She didn’t give up though and Y/N eventually wriggled her way into his arms and heart. She doesn’t mind that their relationship is secret. Loud Reader: Y/N is aware of Leonard’s involvement in the darker side of the church, she’s in the same line of work. She lost her faith a long time ago but defends that people need something to believe in to keep them hopeful, she’s a bit of a hypocrite in church standards. At first, she didn’t like the man at all, she thought he was a pious idiot who happened to be very attractive - a waste of a man. It wasn’t until she saw him completely disregard certain rules in the interest of doing the right thing, he didn’t judge and he didn’t condescend; if he did it was in order to fire someone up to make them stronger. After tha,t she began to talk to him more and at some point, she shoved him into a wall and, despite his meagre protests, had her way with him. They’re rather casual about their relationship but it’s not shared publicly.

C- Communication (Are they good communicators? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues)

Quiet Reader: Leonard is an excellent listener, it’s part of his job description as a priest but he’s always been quiet and prefers to hear people out. Y/N knows she can talk to him about anything, his life experience and his kindness make it easy - he never judges her. He’s honest enough to tell her when he thinks she’s wrong and isn’t selfish with the advice he gives her. Y/N is a little sad that he doesn’t talk so openly with her. She knows he’s hiding things and she knows it’s to keep her safe but also because he swore to God that he would keep certain secrets. It can make it hard for him to speak to her when he needs to and even though she gets it, it can get frustrating. Sometimes Captain Burns will simply want to hold her for a while and it helps as much as a conversation can. Loud Reader: They don’t talk about their feelings or problems very often, they both have things they can’t talk about and it’s simply not that kind of relationship. They’re experts at avoiding certain conversations, they understand why the other can’t speak and that causes some tension at times. Leonard and Y/N’s relationship is mostly physical, they’re seeking comfort, not a confidante. D- Drunk (What are they like when they’re drunk) Quiet Reader: She’s not big on drinking, Y/N can handle a half bottle of wine before she’s unsteady on her feet and feels like she’s floating. When she’s drunk she gets a little emotional, whether it’s joy or sadness she usually ends up with someone handing her a tissue. Loud Reader: Y/N likes expensive liqueurs, she had a high metabolism so its hard for her to stay at a contact level of drunk before burning off the effects. She becomes playful at that point and likes to prank people. Once that involved replacing Karim’s pillows with blocks of ice… he wasn’t impressed. Leonard doesn’t drink often and he’s yet to get drunk, he finds that alcohol burns out of his system very quickly because of his ability… It at least allows him to keep an eye on Y/N and her drunken tricks. E- Emergency (How are they in emergency situations? Y/N gets hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc..) Quiet Reader: Y/N is terrified of fire, since the incident with her roommate she can’t keep her head when flames are involved. She freezes and is more likely to get herself trapped then out of harms way. If someone is injured or it’s a general emergency, Y/N is very good at helping people and getting them to safety - she’s usually the one calling the emergency services whilst people panic. Burns really worries when he knows there’s a fire incident in her area, he always hopes that the Infernal won’t get that close but he also knows that just the thought of it will scare Y/N. He makes a point to call her before he leaves on a mission to tell her he’s dealing with it. It’s not much but he hopes it puts her at ease. Loud Reader: Some might think she’s heartless but Y/N shows little compassion when someone is hurt and once she knows they won’t make it she tends to leave them behind. It’s not that she doesn’t care, it’s just that she can’t let herself get too emotionally involved. If she lets herself get too close then she’ll struggle to keep control of the situation and others could get hurt. She might seem like a bitch but at least everyone is alive. Leonard knows she can be strict during missions and he knows that she expects him to order her around like anyone else until they’re alone. He knows that outwardly she seems fine but on the inside, she’s having massive anxieties. F- Free Spot (I’ll give you any headcanon I come up with) Quiet Reader: Y/N and the Captain were married in a private ceremony in a church far out of the way, six months later she found out she was pregnant and Leonard bought her a house in the safest part of Tokyo he could find. They have a son. Very few people know about his family and it’s always a good day when he can come home to see them both. Loud Reader:

Y/N runs a convent on the edge of Tokyo, she’s very protective of her girls and every one of them is a second or third generation. It means she’s often busy with helping them learn but she won’t let Haijima take them to their labs to ‘monitor’. There have been times she’s gotten in trouble for physically stopping them but Company 1 are conveniently always on hand to help get her out of a tight spot. G- Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they get?) Quiet Reader: She gave him a son. It took her nine months of preparation and it was hard work delivering such a precious gift. Y/N can’t often get him gifts because of the secrecy of their relationship and because she’s a full time mother and housekeeper. Burns pays for everything and he makes sure there is money in her account to treat herself and their child. She’ll always make his favourites when he comes home and makes sure he has everything he needs. Loud Reader: She buys him expensive shirts. He gets through them rather fast. Whether it’s the enemy or himself, they always get burnt or torn. Y/N knows his measurements and has them tailor made, another gift she’s fond of giving him is hair ties. Everything has to be fireproofed. Burns is also a giver of clothing, he knows how much she loves clothes and accessories. Her favourite gift from him was an anklet with a little lions head charm. H- Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle) Quiet Reader: When he comes home, Leonard is very affectionate with Y/N and she still gets giddy every time he holds her. Whether it’s sitting on the sofa with he arm around her whilst she leans into him or simply standing at the entrance way when he’s first gotten in - she gets excited and can’t think. Loud Reader: She’s not afraid to hand off his arm, even in public, and he doesn’t do much about it. He tends to look exasperated with her and people think he’s trying not to be difficult with Y/N but in truth, he likes the feeling of her hand on his bicep. In private he’s more inclined to let her nuzzle into him and mumble about him being too warm. I- Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation?) Quiet Reader: She’s pretty verbal when it comes to being irritated. Y/N will usually tell someone when they’re being unreasonable and doesn’t back down easily. If it’s something she can’t face head on then she’ll get irritated and go into aggressive cleaning mode. It’s best to leave her alone until she’s calmed down. Loud Reader: On the outside, she’ll look pretty calm even if she’s thinking about different ways to murder her problem. People can usually tell when she’s annoyed because her third gen ability will begin to show and the air around her gets pretty heavy. Again, it’s best to leave her alone. J- Jackpot (How would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?) Quiet Reader: It would be nice to pay for everything for once and take the pressure off of Burns, Y/N knows their son would love to spend more time with his father so she would hope that there would be a way to go somewhere far away to spend time as a family. That kind of money buys silence and time. The likelihood would be that Leonard would suggest saving it - in case he becomes unable to support them one day… Loud Reader: She’s going to give half of it to her convent and the rest she will use to buy herself out of the dirty dealings of the church. Y/N thinks she’s already worked her debt owed but money talks. K- Kryptonite (What is their ultimate weakness?) Quiet Reader: Fire. Y/N is petrified of it. She can’t breathe or even think coherently near it. Y/N knows that Burns would never hurt her, he has complete control of his ability but even then she struggles to see him when he creates flames. Even candles make her uneasy. Burns is worried she’ll get herself in trouble because of this, she’s unpowered and he knows how fast a person can go up in smoke. Loud Reader: She made the mistake of showing her weakness and now she lives in fear of it being used against her. The

convent she runs is full of girls as young as two and as old as fifteen, they’re vulnerable and Y/N is the only thing keeping them from being used by the church or Haijima. Captain Burns knows she’ll do something stupid in order to protect the convent and he knows it will be hard to choose sides when it happens. L- Laughter (What makes them laugh?) Quiet Reader: She’s not one to carelessly laugh at just anything, Y/N is sweet but still serious at times and Leonard takes great joy in making her laugh. It can be something as simple as bringing her flowers or rubbing his beard against her skin to make her giggle. Loud Reader: Y/N’s the kind of woman who laughs when people fall over. She likes a good joke and she plays harmless tricks on people. Burns thinks it’s a little childish but somehow finds himself smiling at her antics. M- Morning ( How do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?) Quiet Reader: Y/N has always been an early riser and is pretty cheery, she enjoys making proper coffee and is especially happy when she can cook for several people. The only time she sleeps in a little is when Leonard pulls her close and tells her to stay a little. Loud Reader: She has to get up early most days and go to prayer, she’s so glad she doesn’t have to lead it and can be as dazed as she likes until breakfast. Burns has had to manhandle her out of bed on occasion so they can start the day. N- Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?) Quiet Reader: Because she rarely gets to see Burns and when they’re in a public setting they have to pretend to be friends, Y/N is very needy when they’re together. She feels like she needs to make up for lost time. She lavishes him with attention and he does the same. Loud Reader: The only times he’s ever seen her be needy were when she lost a loved one and when she let herself get too involved in a mission. She broke down each time. The loss of the child at the convent had seen her lock herself away for days until Burns had come to knock the door down. The second he had been within reach she had held onto him like her life depended on it. The second time was when she failed a mission and got her comrades killed, Leonard had rescued her and she had once more clung to him, asking him not to leave her alone. O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?) Quiet Reader: Captain Burns wishes he could go home to wife and child one day and never have to leave. If he had nothing holding him back then that’s all he would need to be happy for the rest of his life. For now, they enjoy their trips to the countryside. Loud Reader: Y/N loves spending time with her girls at the convent. They’re such a handful and there’s always something to laugh about or celebrate. They get very excited when Captain Burns or Karim or Foien come to visit. Leonard enjoys the visits too and he often hides candy in his coat pockets - if the nuns can get to it before it melts they can have it. (He always brings treats that don’t get melted too) P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when Y/N are in pain?) Quiet Reader: She’s a trooper, she barely ever complains about pain and will ignore it until she can’t anymore. She figures that it will just go away but then it gets too much and she wishes she had just taken some painkillers an hour earlier. Burns gets irritated when she gets herself in such a state but will look after her until it passes. Loud Reader: Y/N gets hurt on missions, she’s been hit, stabbed and shot at least once in her life. She’s the type of person who needs to have a scream and a little cry before soldiering on. Burns has patched her up before and she’s done the same for him. Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship) Quiet Reader: “I hope you find someone you can’t live without. I really do. And I hope you never have to know what it’s like to have to try and live without them.” - Kiera Cass Loud Reader: “I love the

grey area between right and wrong.” - Dan Brown R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing Y/N after a long time of being apart) Quiet Reader: Burns is always flattered when Y/N practically slides across the floor in her eagerness to greet him, he takes her into his arms and presses kisses to her face until she forces him to kiss her mouth. They don’t hide the fact that they want each other and if their child isn’t in, they head straight to the bedroom. Y/N has usually prepared his favourite meal for him. Loud Reader: In their younger days they would see each other quite often but when she took control of the convent and Burn’s became Captain it changed. They were both busier, their jobs more legitimate but needing their full attention. When they meet they waste no time in catching up, they don’t always have sex but neither would refuse the other. Sometimes it’s nice to chat about dumb stuff from the past and present. S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?) Quiet Reader: She doesn’t tend to get stressed. If she does it’s usually because she’s planned too much for one day and something’s gone drastically wrong. Burns doesn’t usually show when he’s stressed but Y/N senses it when he comes home, he’s tired and she is always intent on helping him forget work for a little while. Loud Reader: When she’s not on a mission she can get quite stressed - it’s difficult getting thirty to forty nuns to behave themselves and not burn the convent down… Thank Sol for alcohol. T- Terror (What are they afraid of?) Quiet Reader: Flames. Her best friend and roommate Spontaneously Combusted and set fire to their home. Y/N was trapped and was just barely rescued by Company 1. She lost everything. Loud Reader: Y/N used to be an Evangelist White Clad, she betrayed them for the Holy Church of Sol and joined their underground operations to pay for her ‘sins’. Later she got out of full time duty and was able to open her convent. There’s always a fear that the Evangelists will seek revenge or that the church will threaten her girls in order to get her back to work. U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?) Quiet Reader: Y/N is an excellent cook and her neighbours often ask her to bake cakes for parties. Loud Reader: She can do a backflip… it’s not really unique but she’s pretty proud of it. V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?) Quiet Reader: Her ability to fight is nil. Y/N has never been in a fight and nor would she ever want to be in one. She’s not a violent person and she doesn’t like witnessing fights either, she doesn’t see why people can’t just talk things out. Loud Reader: She’s an excellent fighter, her speciality is knives and her ability gives her an edge (no pun intended). Y/N’s a bit of a hot head so argues with people mostly. Her fighting ability was honed in order to serve God - Don’t make her have to use it for stupidity. W- Wow (What does Y/N do that really surprises them? What do they do that Y/N really likes?) Quiet Reader: Leonard is always impressed with how dedicated she is when she sets her mind to something. Almost nothing can stop her. Y/N isn’t afraid to admit that Leonard Burns’ entire being leaves her in awe. Loud Reader: Y/N has never seen Leonard be moved once he’s planted himself, no enemy has ever knocked him down and she’s even tried to move him herself. He’s a mountain that cannot be budged. X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates) Quiet Reader: She likes to bite him. He loves when she climbs over him and teases him with her nails and teeth, considering she’s against violence and is generally sweet natured, it never ceases to excite him. Loud Reader: Y/N isn’t afraid to dominate the Captain, she knows he likes her to take the reigns for a while and it’s hugely rewarding that the Empire’s Lion lets her tame him. And of course, he shows her what she’s dealing with if she gets carried away. Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly

that they can’t deal with it?) Quiet Reader: She’s a mother… there’s not much that makes her cringe anymore. Loud Reader: Y/N hates dealing with body parts. She once went on a mission with 52 and Burns, the young assassin sliced up an enemy and she ended up with a finger falling into her top. It was not appreciated and the little Joker regretted laughing at her as she yelled for Burns to get it out. Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without Y/N)

Quiet Reader: She’s early to bed, early to rise. Y/N has to sleep alone most of the time and she sometimes can’t sleep because she’s lonely. When Burns is there she sleeps happily in his arms with her head against his chest. That’s when she’s happiest. Loud Reader: The woman sleeps like the dead. Once she’s asleep she barely moves and her breathing is so shallow, that on the rare times he’s slept in her bed, Leonard thought she was dead and had to check her pulse. She complains that he’s too hot to sleep with in the summer…

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve

Title: Irreverent Pt. 46 - Salve Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~10K

A/N: Flashback Chapter set between Chapter 14: Superheroes and Chapter 15: Foyet. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

The bar was thrumming with activity and the energy that accompanies people who've all had a long, hard day at work and would like to do nothing besides forget. The team had gotten back from a case in the evening, and with only Friday separating them and the weekend, had all decided to head out for a night of drinking.

You look around, your hands wrapped around a glass of scotch - Derek, Penelope, and Emily were dancing in the makeshift dancing area, JJ was playing darts with some guys, Spencer was cheating people out of their money at a game of pool, and Rossi had long ago excused himself to go sit by some woman at the bar. You'd be dancing too, but the unsub had gotten the jump on you during the takedown and you'd been nursing a sprained ankle ever since. Hotch had stayed with you - whether it was simply to keep you company or because none of the other activities appealed to him, you're unsure. Likely the former - he was pretty good at darts too.

He's sitting across from you in the booth, a glass of scotch in his hand as well. He doesn't make a face when he drinks it, which you have to admire - it was such a man thing. You only drank liquor to get drunk and had been surprised with the drink by Rossi, who had insisted that you needed to drink something stronger than a glass of wine after the day you'd had. You take another hesitant sip from your glass, trying hard not to give away how little you like it. He could've ordered you a mixed drink - something sweet so you didn't taste just pure alcohol.

"What've you got going on this weekend?" you ask Hotch. The case had been miserable all around and you wanted to talk about anything but that.

He looks up at you, the faint hint of a smile on his face. "Haley and I worked it out so that I can have Jack the entire weekend. I'll have to think of something to keep him occupied."

You knew that Hotch would be content to do nothing as long as it was with Jack, but he liked to make the most of their time together and did his best to plan things out that Jack would like. "I saw a poster that said the Air and Space Museum has some special exhibit on this month. It looked interesting." You knew Jack would enjoy that - his latest toy was a rocketship that went everywhere with him.

"Saturday?" he asks, eyebrow quirked up in question.

"Make it 11, and you've got a deal," you tell him, with a small smile. "I am no longer entertaining plans at 9am."

He lets out a slight huff. "If you just went to bed at a normal hour it wouldn't be that hard to wake up in the morning."

This was an old argument with the two of you. Hotch insisted on always being the first in line to any ticketed event. He hated waiting - he'd start to fidget and get annoyed and keep leaving the line to walk to the front and see what was taking so long.

"Take it or leave it." You were sticking your ground. He could use the lie in too, he'd just never admit it.

"We'll pick you up," he says, bringing his glass to his mouth and taking another sip, eyes meeting yours from above the rim.

It was interesting how you and Hotch had settled into this routine of constantly doing things with Jack. You reckon he likes having another adult around when he's out with Jack - it definitely made things easier to keep a little kid entertained. You'd once mentioned to Emily that you were having dinner with him and Jack and she'd looked at you a little oddly, saying that she'd been on the team forever and had never once had dinner with her boss and his kid. You'd responded by telling her that she probably wouldn't enjoy it all too much - Emily liked kids just fine, but her and Hotch tend to get on one another's nerves a bit after a while. They were far too different even if they did work well together. Hotch would try and fail at limiting her to two glasses of wine with dinner and she'd annoy him by just putting the dishes straight into the dishwasher without caring how she did it.

"Someone sent this over for you." You turn to see the waitress place a drink at your table, and indicate towards a man in a wrinkled suit, seated at the bar, who waves at you.

You can feel your face turn into a grimace as the waitress looks at you expectantly. You avoid looking at Hotch across the way. You didn't need to see his reaction. "Would you mind telling him thanks, but, no thanks for me?" you ask her apologetically.

She nods understandingly, taking the drink back and walking towards the bar.

You turn to look at Hotch, completely exasperated. It was nice. It was a nice gesture - sending a girl a drink. Friendly. Yet, you're just a little at your wit's end lately when it comes to men. It all just feels superficial.

Hotch can read you pretty well by now, so he asks if you're alright.

You look at his concerned face. You know why - usually you don't mind this sort of thing. Hell, you pretty much encourage it with the way you act, flirting with nearly everyone simply because you can. It's like a sport to you.

"Are you asking as my boss or as my friend?" you ask him, eyes cast down towards your drink, following patterns in the wood of the table.

"Friend," he says, adjusting to lean in a bit more towards you.

Sighing, you shift a bit, dropping your leg from where you'd been keeping it elevated next to him. "Lately, I just feel like I can't get guys to see me. Like every guy I meet, they either want to date me or kill me," you tell him, referring to your job. "But beyond that, it's like I don't even matter."

Hotch nods understandingly at your frustration, his face a grimace at your explanation. He's unable to deny that that is very much the case when it comes to women quite often - especially in your line of work. You're all far too aware of the horrors of dating, being called in on numerous cases on dating gone wrong. "Aren't you still seeing that guy - Kensington?" he asks with a slight uptick of his jaw.

"Well, if you can call seeing someone six times over the course of about an equal number of months, then yes I suppose so," you scoff lightly. "Twice we got called in on cases halfway, once he got interrupted by a work emergency, and then most recently I accompanied him to an event at which most of the other dates were the kind that demand a retainer in exchange for services rendered," you say, alluding to the super model types you'd kept company at Cedric's business event a couple of weeks back. You could fit into his world quite easily, but you didn't want to. You'd left that behind for a reason.

Hotch chuckles slightly at that, amused at your tone and manner in which you referred to women who were essentially either escorts or sugar babies. You didn't really fit that mold - of that he was quite certain. For one, you definitely didn't need the money.

"Don't get me wrong, I actually do like him. We get one another and our background and upbringing is similar enough. He makes me laugh. However our schedules - both of ours - are highly unconducive to dating and in his line of business he needs a girlfriend who can leave everything at the drop of a hat to stand by his side."

"So unless you leave your job or he leaves his, it won't work out," Hotch finishes your thought for you, a resigned expression on his face in commiseration.

"Exactly. Which is a shame because he's actually one of the good ones. He's rich but not pompous, educated and intelligent without being condescending about it, and actually shows genuine interest in me and my job. Believe it or not, as basic as those things might seem, they are actually difficult to find all in one man."

He hums. "I can imagine," he says, taking another sip of his drink, a slightly amused expression on his face. You rarely talked to him about your dating life so he was actually very interested in this insight. He wonders briefly if there's any significance to you having listed the fact that Kensington was wealthy before any of his other qualities. From what he knows of you, he doubts you'd truly care if your partner had money or not. More than likely it merely helped establish a commonality, nothing more. However, from what he does know of the men you've dated recently, they all appear to be quite well off nonetheless.

"Anyways, all that is to say that I'm not exactly looking to entertain complete strangers in bars at the moment. I don't trust my luck."

"Probably for the best, anyways," Hotch comments, appraising the crowd at the bar. There really didn't appear to be anyone worth talking to - especially none of your caliber, per his judgement.

"What about you? How's the post divorce dating scene?" you question, feeling a little bolder than you usually might, since the two of you are already discussing the matter. Turnabout was fair play.

He's a little surprised at your forwardness. You tend to do your best to not meddle in his personal business, despite the amount of time you two spend together. He believes it's your way of maintaining some modicum of professionalism to your outings. Your conversations tend to revolve around cases, your classes from college, an article in the newspaper, or the ever present game the two of you like to play of profiling complete strangers walking by. He says its to hone your skills, but really he just enjoys how invested you get - how competitive and passionate, color rising in your cheeks as you defend your assessment, annoyance tinging your tone as you disagree with him, admiration when he notes something you hadn't, and pride when he praises your observations, your cheeks flushed a prettier pink and your eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"I wouldn't know," he discloses, a slight flush in his cheeks. He hadn't dated at all since the divorce. He hadn't had the time and he hadn't really had interest in anyone. Not when you exist, so overtly present in his day to day life. He knows he's - in some capacity - using the outings with you and Jack as the closest thing he's got to dating again. Not to say that it was that - dating. However the fact that his weekends were typically filled by you and his son made it so he wasn't exactly left wanting.

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. Their divorce had been a while back now - you knew for a fact that Haley was dating, having ran into her with some man when you'd offered to drop Jack off for Hotch when you all got called in on a case last minute. You hadn't mentioned it to him, but you're sure he knew as well. "You're joking. Really? No one?"

"You might recall, I got divorced because I didn't have the time for my existing relationship. A new one requires quite a bit more attention than that," he says dryly, self deprecation dripping from every word.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at him as you stir your drink with the toothpick it came with, spearing the cherry inside and popping it into your mouth.

"You should just go for it next time we're in some whatever town. Every female detective we've encountered constantly gets all moony eyed around you," you inform him matter-of-factly. They're all so obvious too, eyes always drawn to his ring finger in search of a wedding band, and upon finding it empty, hanging onto his every word. Flicking their hair and fluttering their lashes at him, keen on proving themselves to be competent by sticking their noses into the profile.

"That's hardly true," he contradicts, shaking his head, the color in his cheeks having creeped down his neck.

You chuckle at that. "Maybe you're not as good of a profiler as you think you are."

He glares at you, however the lightheartedness remains in his eyes so you know you're in the clear for your jab.

"Anyways, all I'm saying is, whenever you decide to get back on that proverbial horse, I think you won't find a shortage of options," you tell him kindly. After all, Hotch worked harder than any of you. He deserved to find happiness again.

He rolls his eyes at your statement ever so slightly. His right hand was a much less complicated and demanding lover for the time being - he was making do just fine.

"So, on to the next for you then?" he asks, attempting to divert attention back to you and your existent dating life rather than him and his non-existent one.

You shake your head, a humorless smile appearing on your face as you start to feel just slightly light headed from the alcohol. Maybe accepting random pain killers from Emily hadn't been quite the right move. "Nah," you mumble into your drink. "Cedric can stay, if only because I don't have an actual good reason to end it yet. Besides him, the other two on the back burner are quickly losing what little appeal they held to begin with. I might actually take a break."

Hotch smiles as if he doesn't quite believe you're capable of actually taking a break. Your reputation for never being without a date far preceded you.

Truth be told, at first it was simply easier to always be dating someone in the aftermath of the John wreckage. If you could constantly keep yourself occupied and distracted in that area, while you actually gave turning straight a fair shot, then maybe you'd make it through instead of going crawling back to his bed. Maybe you'd stop seeing his broken face when you told him you couldn't be with him. Maybe the memory of leaving him standing alone in front of that tattoo parlor in the Village wouldn't cause your heart to ache and rebel against your own actions. Maybe. Just maybe.

Now, the pain of Julian's death and the subsequent fallout with your family was merely hurtful when you chose to think of it or were reminded of it inadvertently It was no longer ever present. That seemed like progress. Like somehow despite everything - the pain and torture you'd inflicted upon both you and John had somehow been worth it if it meant you could go to sleep without thinking of Julian. Wake up without your father's face looming ever present in your mind.

You and Hotch look up when you see the rest of the team approaching the table one by one as the night drew to a close. It was last call and about time to head home so you could all have a hope of making an appearance at the office the next day.

"You want a ride home?" Hotch asks you, noticing your slight struggle to get out of the booth.

"It's totally out of your way," you protest, yanking your coat on and fishing for your keys in your pocket.

"I insist, come on. You can't drive properly with that sprain right now. He walks towards you and placing his hand at your lower back, guides you out of the bar behind the rest of the team. "Your car should be fine and we can grab it in the morning."

You know he's right, so you allow yourself to lean against him ever so much more, letting him help you out to his car. Hotch helps you in and closes the door behind you, before walking around to the driver's side. You take control of the music, plugging in your phone, intent on introducing him to more modern music. The two of you made it through seven Top 50 songs on the drive to your place, Hotch complaining throughout and not finding anything redeemable in any of the songs you'd chosen.

Aaron looked over at you as he neared your house, your head moving along to the music and your fingers dancing across your thighs to the tune, a large grin plastered on your voice as you tried to convince him that this this one he surely had to enjoy. He actually didn't mind most of the music you picked out to introduce him to - you didn't just pick anything, you always did your best to pick something you thought he'd truly enjoy. However, he worried that if he started to openly like any of them, you might stop trying so hard.

He pulled into your driveway and walked around to help you out of the car, lending you a hand along the path and up the steps to your door. He stands on the lower step as you unlock the door, before you turn around to tell him goodbye. When you turn, you're almost at his height due to the different steps you two are stood upon and you're not quite sure what compels you, but you reach for him and lean in to a hug, tucking your head onto his shoulder. If he's surprised he doesn't react as such, wrapping his arms around you as well briefly.

"Thanks Hotch."

"I'll pick you up at 8:30AM tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sounds good. I'll be the one standing right here, holding the cups of coffee."

He smiles, rolling his eyes just slightly, before turning around and walking away.

*------------*

He first becomes aware of only pain. A piercing, stabbing pain that he can feel everywhere, centered around the abdominal area. He can't move, everything feels heavy. Opening his eyes is a struggle and he manages to only open his eyes a fraction, before being forced to close them tight again. It was bright. White and too bright for his sensitive eyes.

He's slowly starting to realize where he is - becoming increasingly aware of the pain and the bandages, the needle connecting an I.V. to his arm - he's in a hospital. He tries to remember what happened - he'd dropped you off, waited until you made it inside and waved him off, before leaving. He'd gotten back to his apartment. It had been quiet. Eerily quiet. Then Foyet was there. After that all he recalls is pain and Foyet's voice - over and over and over.

Do I seem impotent now?

You should've made the deal.

This will never be over.

Aaron finds it too difficult to keep his eyes open and closes them once again, slipping under.

The next time he wakes, a technician was present and the girl quickly hurried out when she noticed him move.

Once the nurses became aware that he was conscious, it had been a flurry of activity - doctors and technicians in and out to ensure he was alright and to up the pain medication. Some talk about internal bleeding and nine stab wounds to which he'd simply nodded along. He tried to ask for Dave - someone who could make sense of all of this. They told him no visitors yet, but that family had been informed.

Once Dave enters, that's when he finds out everything. Foyet had dumped him outside the hospital. After he hadn't shown up to pick you up that morning, you'd raised the alarm and Garcia had tracked him down. Nothing was missing from his apartment from what they could tell, despite the mess. The only thing left out was his address book. Dave had it with him and Aaron looks through it, going immediately to the one page that mattered. It wasn't there.

Haley Brooks.

Rossi had sent you to go get Haley since the Marshalls were getting ready for her. You'd left Jack with JJ, assuring him that you'd be right back. He'd already seen his father and you'd watched from a distance as Hotch had adjusted to sit up, insistent on not letting his son see him as anything but alright, even in the context of a hospital bed. Haley had been with them and you watched as her eyes flitted from Hotch to Jack - fear for her son and what he might have to go through, due to his father's job, her main concern. She was worried for Hotch too, of course. She must be. However, their initial interaction that you'd witnessed hadn't been quite how you'd expect a wife to react to her husband being in a hospital. Though, you suppose, she wasn't really his wife anymore. Not that it mattered to him - you're pretty sure in his eyes, she might as well still be.

You approach, and you can hear Hotch and Haley in conversation about what's going to happen next. Foyet had taken only the page in his address book with her name on it, so his intentions were perfectly clear. Haley and Jack were being targeted by a serial killer. That meant they needed to be protected, and you knew that Hotch would have to break it to her.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Haley asks. You can hear the uncertainty in her voice. You wait outside, trying not to eavesdrop but it was impossible not to overhear.

"No I don't. And that's the point. I can't know where you're going. If you have any contact with anyone, then he could track you."

"Jack has school, Aaron. He has friends. I have a job now." Her voice is accusing and you want to tell her that none of that matters right now. The only thing that matters is the two of them being safe.

"I know. And I'm sorry. We will catch him. And you'll come back, and I promise that I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you." Hotch's voice comes out low and you can hear the anguish caught in his throat as he speaks to the mother of his child - telling her to take their son and go. Breaking his own heart in the process by keeping Jack away from him. Knowing that that is exactly what Foyet wants. Wants him to suffer.

"Are you sure that we're in danger?" she asks, her voice suggesting that maybe he was overreacting. You feel a surge of anger course through you at that. For her to even suggest that he was overreacting when he was laid up in a hospital bed with multiple stab wounds was simply…you didn't have the words. He wouldn't make her go through this over nothing!

"Yes."

You decide to intervene then. Before she can question it further and agitate him more. He needed to rest. You knock quickly, alerting them both to your presence. "Haley, the Marshalls are ready for you."

She nods and grabs Hotch's hand. You avert your eyes to give them their privacy as Hotch tells her to be brave and strong. He'll see her and Jack after she's met with them.

Haley walks towards you and you point her to the tall female agent standing at the end of the ICU doors, wearing non-descript clothing in order to not garner too much attention. She nods and looks at you, and you see a hint of something pass through her eyes, like she wants to speak, but then seems to think better of it and walks towards the direction you'd pointed her in.  

You watch her go, before turning to Hotch. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, and then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. You hesitate for a second, before walking in. Your presence wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, you hope, so you walk towards the bed and take a seat in the chair to his left, waiting until he decides to look at you.

"How're you feeling?" His face is turned towards you as though he's partially surprised you're even there at all. You wonder if he would've preferred you have left him alone instead.

"They're got me some pretty strong meds," he tells you, indicating towards the I.V. drip connected to his arm.

You lean over and read the chart hanging from the side of the bed, eyes glancing over it. "They got you on all of the good stuff - Hydromorphone will get the job done for sure." You try to smile but you know it won't reach your eyes right now.

"How long did it take you to sound the alarm?"

You shift, tilting the chair to look at him better, your teeth worrying your bottom lip and eyes narrowed, trying to work out why he'd ask that. The smell of a hospital was starting to get to you a bit - that odd smell that feels like despair and cleaning supplies. "Ten minutes. At 8:35, I called your cell and you didn't pick up. I called again at 8:36 and 8:37 and 8:38. At 8:39 I told myself I was acting crazy and that the weird feeling I had wasn't anything really. I just needed some breakfast. At 8:40, I called Penelope and had her track you down." You remembered the ten minutes of pure panic you'd gone through when he hadn't been outside at exactly 8:30AM. With anyone else, it wouldn't be a cause for concern. With Hotch, you'd expected him to be there at 8:25AM and so you'd been ready to go by 8:15AM with a travel mug of coffee for the both of you in each hand. He also always texted you when he left his place to come to yours and you hadn't gotten an ETA text that morning. Maybe that's what had originally put you on edge.

He looks at you, an odd look on his face at your explanation as if he's trying to decide what to make of it - the entirely detailed and rambling explanation he got from you, likely catching him off guard a bit. Great, he thinks I'm insane.

A small smile makes its way to his face however, and you're glad he's still capable of that, despite everything. You haven't yet looked down at his bandages. Foyet had stabbed him nine times. You'd seen the notes that Rossi had taken - what Foyet had said to Hotch as he stabbed him. Talking about how Hotch has profiled him as being impotent. The mere act of stabbing Hotch while taunting him with that particular piece of the profile -it filled your stomach with churning acid. It was the closest to sexual assault that Foyet could inflict upon Hotch and you're trying hard not to think about the emotional and mental ramifications of it all for him. The physical was one thing - that's something that people can move past with time. The violation of one's home and one's body however - the toll that takes on ones being and sense of self - that's much more difficult to bury.

Just to even think that he was exaggerating - you're mad all over again at Haley. You shouldn't be. You know that isn't fair at all. She was having her whole life upended. And yet…he was the one in a hospital bed and you're having a hard time recalling her seeming at all concerned for him. She must've been, of course. But…he didn't deserve to be made to feel like shit because of it. It wasn't his fault. Knowing him, he really would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

You avert your eyes to stare at the wheels at the bottom of the bed. They'd wheeled him, unconscious, past you when you'd first arrived at the hospital, not bothering to go into the office and instead arriving straight from your place via a cab. You'd been the first one there, having Garcia call the rest of the team. You'd called Rossi so that he could be the one to call Haley. He'd known her longer. You'd limped your way into the ICU, bypassing every single security check with a flash of your badge.

Pointless really. They wouldn't let you see him. Family first. You had to wait for Haley and Rossi to arrive - they were his emergency contacts. You briefly wondered if that was because he'd never bothered to update it after the divorce or if that was truly still the case - if she would be the person he'd want to have during an emergency.

"Can I say something?" Your voice comes out small and hesitant. He hadn't said anything in the wake of your explanation earlier.

He nods, looking at you curiously.

You wet your lips, clearing your throat a bit and sitting up straighter. It's not your place, and yet.. someone should say it. Someone should tell him.

"Sometimes, when we love people, we allow them to hurt us. We allow them to ignore our pain in favor of elevating their own. We allow them to bypass our feelings and our needs because we believe we aren't as worthy of having what we need acknowledged. I get why, of course. Especially right now, but.." You trail off, not knowing how to finish what you'd started in a way that didn't complete overstep the boundaries that you'd already crossed. He'd know you had heard. He didn't need to know that right now, you didn't exactly love his ex wife. You liked her just fine. But right then, you didn't appreciate how she'd treated him.

Hotch looks at you, breath caught by your words. He hadn't realized you'd overheard the conversation between him and Haley. There could be no other reason for you to be saying all of that. You'd said it all softly, hesitantly, knowing you were crossing some sort of line and yet you'd still said it because you felt he needed to hear it. We love.. We allow… We believe… You were speaking from some amount of personal experience. Your first question to him had been about how he was doing - unlike both Rossi and Prentiss who had asked him what happened. He's not sure why the distinction matters, yet it does.

Haley was right too, however. He can't be upset with her. This was all his fault. He hadn't made a deal with Foyet and now his family - his son - their lives were being upended. Haley had already put up with a lot during their marriage. The divorce should've meant that she no longer had to bear the consequences of his job. He can't help but feel guilty for that - for putting her in this situation. Especially when he's so overtly aware that he could've kept it from happening.

He watches as you sit in that chair, eyeing him apprehensively, chewing on your bottom lip. You care. He can tell you care. You care so overwhelmingly that it's hard to deny it. Sometimes he wishes you didn't. It would make things a lot easier on him if he could think that he felt something for someone that didn't even think about him - that he never crossed your mind even. However, there's far too much proof to the contrary. So instead he has to live with knowing that you care about him, that you think of him, that you likely - in some capacity - love him. The way one might love a friend or a mentor. Somehow that's worse because he has to then deal with you saying stuff like this. Things that make it seem like only you care.

He doesn't know what to say and he can feel tears forming that he's quick to blink away, hoping you hadn't noticed. He swallows and just nods, not trusting himself to say much of anything that didn't involve asking you to stay - possibly forever, because for the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital, he feels seen.

You try to smile and change the subject, fill him in on the Marshalls' plan with Haley and Jack. Offer to get him ice chips or some food that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. He notices how at ease you seem in the hospital, and comes to the conclusion that maybe a family member had spent some time in one. You seem to know which nurses to talk to in order to get whatever you needed. You watch like a hawk when they come to do anything with his medications. He's pretty certain you would've slept there overnight had Rossi not asked you to help Morgan with something on the ongoing case.

He misses you as soon as you leave.

*------------*

You catch Jack and Haley on your way out. You know you won't be seeing Jack for a while. The Marshalls would be taking them today. Everything was going to change for them.

You nod at Agent Montgomery - the U.S. Marshall that's going to be on their case for the time being. She shifts, moving to the doorway to give you guys a moment.

Haley is seated at the table, her hands holding onto some paperwork. She meets your eyes briefly and nods before returning to the documents. There's a pen in her hands and you can't help but note that her fingers shake around it a bit.

Jack is seated at another table nearby, Agent Montgomery having cleared the breakroom for their meeting.

"Hey buddy." You kneel down to where Jack has been sitting, coloring a printout that one of the nurses must've provided. Jack turns to you, showing off his work. "That looks amazing, Jack!"

He beams with pride at your praise. "Thanks, Y/N."

"I have to head out, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

Jack gets up and hugs you, wrapping his little pudgy arms tightly around your neck, allowing you to sweep him up entirely. You know this is the last time you'll get to hold him for quite a while, so you allow it to linger, hugging him back tight. "I love you, Jack." Whispered into his ear while you blink back tears.

You release him and stand, making sure he's settled back into his activity and occupied, before turning to Haley. She stands, walks with you a small distance away from Jack. It isn't fair, what's happening to her. You don't really hold anything against her. It's awful, entirely awful what's happening - her whole life was about to be uprooted because of your jobs. Because of all of your collective failure to catch Foyet the first time. It was your mistake and her and Jack were going to pay for it.

You look up at her and you can see how entirely scared she is of what's about to happen. To have to do this on your own was one thing. Doing it with a partner, another. To have to do it all alone while supporting a child - she wouldn't have anyone she knew to rely upon. All by herself and unable to trust anyone.

"We're going to find him. We're gonna catch him. I promise." You know words were of little solace but that's all you have to give right then.

She smiles, a watery smile to match the unshed tears in her eyes. There's a shaky nod before she moves forward, hugging you in much the same manner Jack had. She's a bit taller than you, so you try to stand straight, allowing her to lean against you. "Take care of him." Her voice is a whisper against your ear, as though she's entrusting you with something extremely precious. Which she is, you suppose. She's counting on you to make sure that Hotch would be alright. That Jack's father would be fine, awaiting his son's return.

"I will."

*------------*

It had been a week since Foyet had left Hotch outside the hospital. A week since Haley and Jack had been taken into WITSEC protective custody and given new identities in an unknown location. A week since Morgan had become the new acting Unit Chief of the BAU, taking over in Hotch's stead. To the public - to the outside world - and especially to Foyet, it had to seem like his attack on Hotch had left him completely alone and broken - no wife, no kid, no team to lead.

You hated it.

The team had been assigned a new case late Sunday evening after you'd all pretty much spent the past couple of days in the hospital. Hotch was discharged earlier in the day and was under strict orders to stay on bedrest for the time being. You'd all flown out early Monday morning and it was now Saturday evening, the case having stretched out the entire week due to the Unsub's kill schedule.

You got back home after submitting your report, grabbing a water and a pack of the little bunny crackers you keep on hand for Jack. You're pretty sure you won't be seeing Jack before those expire and someone should eat them. You shower and get dressed for bed, thinking about Hotch. You knew he was home and would be coming back to work next week, doing the absolute bare minimum bed rest that the doctor had mandated. You're fairly certain the doctor had been intimidated into it by Hotch's severe face, daring him to say anything longer than a week.

It's fairly late by the time you actually crawl into bed, plugging your phone into the charger by the nightstand and flickering off the lights, plunging the room into darkness save for the red glow of the alarm clock stating that it was now eleven o'clock. You wonder if anyone has checked in on him while the team has been away. Perhaps Jess, but she must also be out of her mind with worry about Haley and Jack.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you've grabbed your phone and scrolled to his name in your Favorites, pressing on it. You hold the phone up to your ear and listen as it rings, once, twice, thrice, until you hear the sound of it being picked up.

"Hotchner." His voice is low but doesn't sound sleepy, so you're at least confident that you hadn't woken him up. Having nothing to do but lay around must be messing with his carefully regulated sleep schedule.

You suppress a laugh at his formal no-nonsense greeting, even though he undoubtedly knows it's you. "Hey." Your voice comes out breathier than intended.

"Is everything alright?" There's a slight edge evident in his voice and you realize that maybe calling him at eleven at night when his wife - ex-wife - and kid are being kept away safe wasn't exactly the right move.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's alright. I'm sorry. I just called to check in. How are you?"

There's a pause where you can hear the ambient sounds of your house settling in along with him shifting - the rustling of a bedsheet and the groan of the frame as he moves to adjust himself. So he had been in bed when you called.

Finally, you hear, "I'm alright. Thank you for dropping off the food."

"Yeah, yeah of course," you respond, your heartbeat picking up a bit for some reason. You figure it's because you're unsure of the call itself still and knowing that Hotch was in bed and you'd likely disturbed him in some sense at least, makes you feel a little uneasy.

For his part, Aaron had been going stircrazy, sitting at home with nothing whatsoever to do. The Marshalls had taken Haley and Jack the very same day. Dave had taken him from the hospital and back to his apartment and Garcia and JJ had dropped by the same day with some groceries and a couple of ready to eat meals for him.

He spent most of Sunday sleeping, the strong painkillers making him drowsy. Monday morning, he awoke to his doorbell and his nurse, Eric, from the hospital was there to help him with the dressage. He didn't think that was covered by his insurance - he could only imagine how much home visits from a medical professional cost - and had told Eric there was some sort of mistake. However, Eric had insisted that someone at the hospital had already worked it out and insurance wasn't an issue - this was a covered service apparently. Since Aaron already knew him, and he really could use the help, he'd let him in. Eric had entered holding a large box of food as well, that he said had been left at the door along with a note. After Eric left, Aaron had opened the box to reveal pre-portioned meals - all homemade, all different, all things he could throw in a microwave easily. The note was just signed with your name, telling him to call if he needed anything else.

He'd slept through most of the days, awakening only to let Eric in daily. He ate only because he had to in order to take his medications. Otherwise his mind was a haze of thoughts and worries - worrying about Jack and Haley, about Foyet being around the next corner, about the team managing without him, and somewhere at the farthest reaches of his mind your face danced around - worried and concerned for him, despite doing your very best to appear otherwise.

When your name flashed across his phone late at night, at first he felt the thrust of panic - that something had happened. And then there's your voice, calm and even, asking him how he's doing. No one else had called him. Dave and Prentiss had texted once or twice over the week, but with a case going on, everyone had been busy.

There's a brush of silence after he thanks you for the food and he can hear you take a breath and shift ever so much. He realizes that you're calling him while most likely lying in bed. It causes his heart to speed up and a tight coil to begin tightening in his stomach. It's utterly benign - he has no reason to feel that way, and yet, yet he does.

"How was the case?" he asks, desperate for someone to speak with, not wanting the phone call to end.

You're slightly surprised but you easily talk him through the details of the case, the profiling process and how the team had approached it. You find yourself babbling on for a while as he asks you questions about the evidence, how the local detectives had been, how the team was doing.

Aaron listens to you, taking it all in. You're good at this, providing all the details you know he'd want. You notice everything, all the little things. How the local detectives had responded to Morgan being in charge - how it had been easier for JJ to liaise with them more closely instead. How Reid was getting much more comfortable with having a weapon in the field. There's a soft, sleepy quality to you despite your obvious willingness to tell him everything. Your voice like a salve, doing more for him than any of the medications the doctors had prescribed.

He's not sure when or how, but the conversation has meandered from the case to something Prentiss had told you once, to a story he had of Dave and Gideon back when he first joined the team, and then to a professor of yours from college who had been particularly invested in the Bundy trials in a near obsessive manner. He finds himself laughing for the first time since that night at the bar with you.

When his eyes next catch the time, it is past 2AM. You'd been on the phone for the past three hours. Before this, the longest phone call he's ever had was fifteen minutes.

"It's late," he whispers, almost as though he doesn't want you hear him. "You should get some sleep."

You glance at your clock and find yourself shocked at how long the two of you had been on the phone together. Who knew Hotch was even capable. Though, you figure, you'd been doing the bulk of the talking, rambling on about something or the other. He must be utterly exhausted of listening to your voice.

"You should too," you murmur through a yawn, your eyes flickering under the weight of your lashes.

"Good night, Y/N." You can hear a smile in his voice and it's almost as though you can feel him - the way he feels when he hugs you, warm and strong, firm against you, surrounding you completely with his being.

"Night Hotch."

*------------*

Hotch had been back a couple of weeks and the team was adjusting. While Morgan was indeed the public face of the team, Hotch was very still involved and working far too much behind the scenes. You've kept an eye on him, looking for signs of him overexerting himself. He is, of course. He's burying himself in work, diving in head first because that's likely easier than focusing on everything else. So far, all you've done is give him looks that say Shouldn't you be going home? and Is this really what you want to spend a Wednesday at 9PM doing? He doesn't acknowledge them openly but you know that he knows that you see exactly what he's trying to do. He'll leave once he realizes that you're staying if he is.  

You're not quite sure how to check on him during the weekends. Before, you used to have Jack as the reason why you saw him. Now, without Jack, you're not quite sure how to go about seeing Hotch and making sure he's alright, without it somehow being seen as overstepping. You nudge Rossi to go check on him one of the days and then another, you invited the entire team over for dinner so that you know he ate. You know he won't let you cook for him if he's no longer on bedrest, even though the way he holds his gun and the sharp inhale he takes anytime he has to put the Kevlar on is extremely telling.

JJ wants everyone in the conference room on the other side of the floor since your regular one is taken and she calls you to inform everyone of the change in venue for the scheduled meeting. You glance up from your desk after having told Derek and Emily of the location change, trusting them to tell Spencer when he returns. JJ isn't expecting everyone for another half hour, and Emily had caught Rossi as he was heading out to lunch, so he's also aware. Emily and Derek follow in his steps, asking if you're going to join them, but you wave them on ahead.

You take the steps up to Hotch's office swiftly, knocking and turning the knob in one motion, only to find him standing behind his desk, no jacket or tie, shirt unbuttoned, a patch of red visible on his skin from one of the stab wounds inflicted by Foyet. He looks up at you and you can feel the surprise in his eyes. It was your fault, you should've waited. That was stupid. Your eyes can't seem to look away from the blood spotting the otherwise white wrappings that sit in a pile on the desk.

"I - I'm sorry," you stutter out, blinking and trying to make sense of the sight in front of you. You notice that his shirt was also equally marred, the blood having seeped through. You'd obviously interrupted him.

He draws a breath, and you can see him try to put on a mask of being unbothered by your sudden appearance. "Did you need something?"

'Um, JJ had to move the briefing to the other conference room," you inform him, still unable to look away. You're staring. You know are. It's dawning upon you how entirely you'd fucked up. Hotch was such a private person. He'd hate having someone see him in such a state of vulnerability.

He nods. "Thank you. Could you close the door, please?"

You don't move from your spot in the doorway.

"Y/N?"

You're not sure what exactly has overcome you, except this overwhelming need to take care of him. Especially now, right then when he's hurting. Bleeding quite literally. Hotch takes care of everyone. Every single one of you. But no one takes care of him. Not the way he needs to be cared for.

You cross the threshold, shutting and locking the door behind you. He seems entirely taken aback as you approach him silently. There's a voice in your head telling you that this, right here, this was the definition of overstepping. Yet, there is a more insistent compulsion residing within you, urging you forward until you've reached him. He looks at you, confusion in his features.

"Let me." You reach for the alcohol wipes on the table, meant to disinfect the affected region.

He doesn't say anything, but he also doesn't move, making it difficult for you to actually reach him as he's standing flush to his desk. He only looks at you, brows scrunched together, the pronounced cleft of his lower lip set tightly.

"Let me." You repeat yourself, moving forward and forcing him to back up a little and make room for you. You deftly move to sit on his desk, facing him, and beckon him towards you without looking up. If you looked up, you might lose your nerve.

You part your legs and much to your surprise, he actually moves forward, coming to settle between them. You can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You're suddenly very aware of the friction between his dress pants and the material of your own fitted ones.

You take the alcohol wipe and tear open the packaging, unraveling the cloth before cautiously moving towards him and dabbing at the area that seemed to have opened up slightly. He releases a sharp hiss and suddenly, his hand is at your waist, gripping tightly. You pause, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut, lips pressed tightly together. After a second, he nods, indicating at you to continue. He doesn't make a sound again as you clean up the area, though he does tighten his grip ever so slightly a couple more times.

You look at the items on his desk and pick up the jar of salve that he must put on prior to the dressings. Carefully, you unscrew the lid, looking up at him with a question in your eyes. He nods again, barely looking at you.

You try to do it quickly. Fingers picking up some of the salve and gingerly spreading it over the region, brushing past raised skin, puckered up as it heals. Slowly. Not fast enough for him.

Aaron watches as your head is bent, teeth biting down on your lower lip in concentration as you gently span the entirely of his chest and stomach. Soft, dainty fingers quickly working so as to put him out of his misery faster.

Of all people, he didn't want you to see him this way. So vulnerable, so exposed, so scarred. You'd thrown him off balance when you hadn't quickly scampered away after you realized your error in barging in. Approached him with such purpose that he hadn't known how to turn you away.

You reach for the fresh roll of gauze next, swallowing as you look up at him once again. "This would be easier if you take the shirt off."

He shrugs it off at your words, placing it on the back of his chair. There's a fresh shirt on the seat of his chair. He'd been prepared, it would seem.

"This might put a dent in the line of women waiting to pounce." He indicates towards his chest, self deprecation dripping from his weak attempt at humor, in an effort to cut whatever imaginary tension he had made up in his head.

You look at his face, seeing the vulnerability and insecurity as plain as can be. He doesn't need to verbalize his thoughts in order for you to know exactly what he's thinking. What he's been thinking.

Who would want someone this grotesque?

Who would want a man as broken as this?

Who could possibly bear the sight of him - marred forever? His very flesh a perpetual reminder of the terror he wades through, the monsters he encounters, the horror that is his life.

"No."

Your answer is simple, straightforward. Yet nothing has ever confused him more as he watches you hold one end of the gauze to the front of his chest near the top of the scarring, and then bring the roll around his back, over it to hold it in place, your small hands ghosting over his skin with the utmost propriety, intent in making this as painless, as easy, as comfortable for him as possible.

"I'm not going to tell you some patronizing bullshit about scars being beautiful."

You control your breath in easy measured paces, forcing him to follow along. One breath in. Pause. Breath out. Repeat. You continue to wrap the dressing around his chest slowly, your eyes fixed on the task at hand to ensure that it was all straight and even, tight but not too tight.

"They do, however, speak to all that you've endured. All that you've conquered. Overcome. Anyone who loves you will see you just as you are. They would think you absolutely incredible. Regardless of anything. Because of it all."

Aaron focuses on your voice, soft and melodic and yet sure. So very sure. How could you possibly be so sure?

"Someone who loves you will see the scars," your fingers press ever so slightly against his chest, "and they will know. They will know all that you've undergone to become who are - how you survived despite the odds."

You take a sudden shuddered breath as you recall the sight of him unconscious in the hospital bed, being wheeled past you. You're quick to shake it away.

"They will be grateful. To have you, scars and all."

You finish, tucking in the end of the gauze firmly and ensuring it wouldn't come loose with just the slightest of motions.

You look up at him then, finally meeting his eyes properly. Beautiful, deep brown eyes with flecks of gold brought on by the late afternoon sunlight that was filtering through the windows.

Aaron can't help but look at you. He rarely gets to see you this up close. So very close. If he were to just bend down the smallest amount, there'd be no space at all. Your hair bundled back into a professional low bun, soft wisps framing your face. The cupid's bow lips - pouty, pink, perfect lips. The upturned nose and the slight babyface cheeks that accompanied it. He realizes his hand is still gripped onto your waist and he's reluctant to remove it. Not yet. In a bit. Not yet.

"Thank you." His eyes are closed as he says it so he misses it when you nod your acknowledgement.

You lean past him, one hand grabbing his forearm for balance while the other reaches for the shirt on the chair. You'd started the job. Might as well finish it. You unbutton the collar and he takes it from you, quickly slipping it on, and yet not moving away. His hand returns to your waist. Staying where you could easily reach up and start buttoning it for him. So you do.

Aaron knows you don't need a response to everything you'd said. He also is quite certain that you believe it. No matter the entirely shallow world you'd been a part of, he knows that you aren't like that. You might be a little vain - the nice clothes and makeup, the care you put into your own appearance. However, you're not vain like this.

Aaron breathes out a deep sigh that he'd been holding for some time as you dexterously work each button into its proper hole. He really could get used to this. To you.

"Why do you always sit on stuff?" His voice is soft and low, calmer.

You glance up, noting the slight humor dancing behind his eyes while he waits for your answer.

You can't help but smile, a breath of laughter escaping you just barely. "I suppose…because I'm short," you admit, shaking your head as you continue down the trail of buttons. "Makes it easier for me to be at eye level if I sit on higher surfaces."

He laughs. A near boisterous laugh. His chest rumbles underneath your hands, causing your fingers to tremble.

You can't help but laugh along with him, releasing a deep held breath as you do.

He would be alright. He would.

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List Pt.3

Word Count: 12.8K

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list. 

Warnings: Violence, explicit language, angst, brief mentions of cannibalism and human trafficking (like literally just the words are used zero detail),

A/n: Sorry theres no gif or banner! I’m loosing the battle of bandwidth in my house and my computer can’t load any images on such a large post. :( On the bright side Jungkook says: women's rights :D

Jimin sighed as he received the text from Jin asking him to bring a dessert to the impromptu family dinner tonight. 

It was his only day off this week and he really wanted to go the full day without getting flour in his hair. He glanced at his clock in disappointment seeing he napped and lazed most of his day away, and decided he would just pick up a box of pastries from Sugar Daddy instead of making something himself. 

Dragging himself out of bed, he pulled on a dark pair of jeans and a pale blue button-up that was only slightly rumpled. He had a little time to kill before he needed to leave, so Jimin wandered out to the front of the house to see if Taehyung was home. He wasn’t, but the sight of the still-warm bowl of ramen on the breakfast bar hinted that he may not have left too long ago. He sighed as he dumped the bowl in the sink and started the dishes. His roommate wasn’t inherently messy, neither of them was. 

Their apartment was never spotless, but it was clean and comfortable lived in, and that’s how Jimin preferred it.

 But since Tae’s promotion as one of Namjoon’s spiders a few months back Jimin found himself picking up after him a bit more since Tae was always being called out of the house at obscure times. Jimin told Teahyung he needed to set boundaries and be willing to tell their leader no on the occasion, he would understand, but Tae was in love with the task. The boy was enthralled with adopting a new persona and sweet-talking information out of unsuspecting targets. He loved being someone else and living a different life for a short time. 

Taehyung was an expert at stealth, but he didn’t need it when he could become whoever he wanted in a blink of an eye. 

No Taehyung didn’t like to hide in the shadows like the other spiders in Alcor who acted more like flies on the wall, he liked to look his victim in the eye and unravel their secrets with his charm. A true spider trapping his prey in a web before he feeds. 

It worried Jimin to no end, he still didn’t know if he preferred him in the dangers of the streets pushing pills, or in the dens of the most dangerous and powerful people in the city risking getting caught in his own web of lies. 

Jimin liked to play it safe. He works off most of his debt to Namjoon through working at Sugar Daddy, the bakery Jin opened two years ago. There he maintains a regular job and provides his more specialized services in the back. His other work for BTS kept him off the frontlines less than Taehyung or any of the members really. It was rare for Namjoon to have jobs or missions that called for his skillset, so he was occasionally recruited to a job that requires more numbers and brute force. 

Jimin wasn’t a bad fighter or a bad shot by any means; he just didn’t like the violence and preferred taking care of his enemies from a distance instead of risking the lives of the people he loved to put them on the front line. His affinity for chemistry made that possible.

Jimin finished washing the dishes, drying a handful before placing the rest on the drying rack before slipping on his boots and heading downtown. The bakery was within walking distance of his house, and he didn’t feel like dealing with parking, so he opted to leave his car and make the walk to the Den. 

He passed through the familiar storefront of Sugar Daddy skipping the long line and heading directly for the back where he gathered an assortment of fruit tarts and small pies into 2 boxes, silently daring Jin and Namjoon to add the expense to his tab before making his way to the Den. 

Sugar Daddy’s was on the corner of a growingly popular part of the 7th Ward, the growing storefronts down 28th street (most of which were funded by BTS) filled the air with the power of local business, the vintage buildings paired with their modern interiors was making the area grow into a more Hipster part of town. Which in turn was good for business as more university students began making the commute from campus to buy overpriced artisan soap wrapped in burlap. 

A few blocks from the bakery Jimin turned into one of the nicer neighborhoods in the 7th Ward, the grass appeared more vibrant, and the houses grew in size as he made his way down the road until coming to a stop in front of a large Art Deco style house at the end of Gardenia Circle. 

The three-story house had two wings and looked far too grand for the street rats that occupied it. The property was one of the family properties Jin inherited from his Uncle when he passed, one of the few relatives that still kept in contact with him. Jin and Namjoon both wanted to sell it feeling it was far too grand for any of BTS’s needs, but Yoongi convinced them to keep it, the property was already paid for they just had to pay the maintenance bills, and the gang was growing exponentially at the time, so it wasn’t unreasonable to believe the gang would grow into it. 

The Den has had many forms, but the same concept over the near-decade BTS has been around. 

When BTS first formed Namjoon believed in the philosophy that every member of BTS would have somewhere warm to stay each night. The promise that was made when members joined and took the Tattoo was they would always have a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs as long as they stayed loyal. 

If they ever recruited someone who was in a tough spot they were welcome to stay at the Den while they get back on their feet. It also acted as a safe house for people who might have had their cover blown during jobs and needed somewhere to lay low (although BTS had actual safehouses now, keeping a member with a warrant for their arrest in the same place as their leader was not ideal). 

Once the inner circle expanded, the rooms have slowly morphed into ones the members use regularly between jobs or the younger members like Jimin, Tae, and Jungkook lived in and were raised by their crime lord dads. Once the Den was upgraded for the first time it was done so with the intention that each member of the inner circle would have their own room to stay in. Despite having their own apartments by then It was just nice to be together and always have that option. It was also becoming too high a risk to welcome just anyone into the Den. 

The second Den was compromised and raided by a rival gang who infiltrated them two years back, Namjoon was still recovering from the betrayal, and the Den was forced to relocate. That's what brought BTS to Gardenia Circle. 

BTS has made too many enemies nowadays to trust so easily. But with that growing list comes a growing number of resources at their disposal now. People who need somewhere to hide out after a tough job can easily get a room on the 7th floor of the Bulletproof. A floor where rooms were always reserved for the gang members. They also had a number of safe houses and small apartments at their disposal throughout the city. They even had one on the top floor of the bakery where Jimin worked, although Jimin often used it for other overnight adventures…

Their new home had a security gate and was also decked out in surveillance camera, that Suga or one of his minions were constantly monitoring, They even had two guys running security constantly to keep the Den safe. The large building did not just act as a home to the inner circle, but also a number of resources and savings BTS use for everyday business to keep the gang running. 

Despite its larger size the Den still managed to feel homey under Jin’s watch. The interior was completely modernized at this point. Jin and Yoongi saw to its transformation over the years. Taking out nearly all the interior walls that divided the public spaces of the first floor of the house so that the living room, kitchen, and dining room were a seamless area for BTS to be together. Down the hall from the living room lead to the ‘man cave’ area of the house that was best suited for drinking and gaming as well as a door to the garage.The only other doors on the first floor lead to the bathroom and the East wing of the house. 

In the west wing there were enough bedrooms for each of the seven members of the inner circle and any unexpected guest. Although Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, and Jungkook were the only ones who solely resided at the house. The West Wing also held the gym and training area where the guys kept up with their fighting skills. Hoseok once pushed for an onsite shooting range to practice at, but Namjoon insisted on using the facility downtown, claiming it would be too noisy for him to properly get peace and quiet. 

The East wing was closed off from the rest of the house and was used strictly for business, Namjoon and Jin studies, and the conference rooms where BTS met with trusted clients. The top floor of the wing was where Yoongi and most of his surveillance crew reported for work.

 Upon entering the house Jimin's nose was immediately hit with a flood of spices and savory smells. Jin was in the kitchen stirring at a pan of caramelizing onions. Jimin greeted him and set the pastries on the breakfast bar hands immediately flying to his pockets to check his phone and wallet were still there. It was Alcorn after all where you either rob or get robbed.

“Dinner will be ready in ten,” Jin said in greeting before turning to peek into the box. 

“Did you buy these?” he asked, confused. 

“They’re from yesterday, couldn’t put them out on the floor,” Jimin lied as he headed for the couch where Jungkook was working on his homework. 

“Did you have a good day at school?” he teased ruffling the younger's hair. Jimin still didn’t quite understand how Jungkook could choose to go back into debt with Namjoon in order to go to college, the kid had the chance to cut his ties and walk away before he even graduated high school, taking every job they came across and paying off his bail and any major living cost he accumulated since Namjoon took him in. The boy was brilliant and talented and while like Jimin BTS was the only family Jungkook will have he still wished to see the boy walk away from the life sentence that comes with taking the tattoo when he had the chance. 

“Hyung,” he whined slightly before turning to look at him, “stop, I'm not a kid,”  he said betting his hands away. 

Jimin smiled giving Jungkook a look that said he believed the exact opposite before huffing a laugh, “I guess you aren’t, so what's the verdict on your punishment?” he asked as he reclined on the couch, “Did you get grounded?” he asked with a taunt and Jimin groaned. 

“I have to help open the bakery for the next week, and help train the next round of recruits” he grumbled. 

Jimin laughed, “You love teaching the newbs how to fight,” 

“Yeah but not on Saturday mornings,” 

“You also have to do inventory in the warehouse next month,” Namjoon reminded as he came down the stairs, 

“Owch inventory, your heartless Joonie” Jimin said with a taunting smile as he got up to help Jin set the table. Jungkook followed wordlessly grabbing seven glasses from the cabinet. 

“Well it would be one thing to go prance around the 9th ward like he owns the place, it’s another to sell to a client that’s been blacklisted since before you joined,” Namjoon said with a glare. 

“You tried to sell to Sylvia?” Jimin asked in shock. He remembered Jungkook mentioning the idea to him about a month ago, but Jimin thought he finally let it go when Namjoon shut him down. 

“He was willing to pay twice what we were selling for,” Jungkook defended. 

“The dude’s a cannibal!” Jimin all but shouted in disbelief “And a rapist, and I'm pretty sure he abuses animals” he listed as an afterthought. Sylvia was one of the many monsters in the 9th ward, known for trafficking exotic animals many go there to buy snakes, peacocks, big cats, or what other kinds of odd pet you would need. But he was also known for collecting men and women as well, and the ones he didn’t sell he indulged in himself in a multitude of ways. 

“Everyone in Alcorn is terrible, and he was just buying a sedative for whatever shipment of cats he has coming in to keep his employees from getting hurt,” Jungkook said in weak defense 

“Yeah but he-” 

“Enough talk,” Namjoon said, cutting Jimin off before he could further elaborate on how there was a special place in hell for guys like Sylvia. Namjoon lowered his voice as he watched Teahyung and Yoongi come into the house followed by Hoseok, “you tried to deal with someone on the blacklist, you violated major protocol and almost got killed in the process, you're on probation. But we don’t need the entire gang to know about the mishap, got it.” sending a pointed look to both Jungkook and Jimin.

“Got it,” they both responded and Jungkook had the decency to look a little guilty as Taehyung came into the room. 

Quickly the room filled with mindless chatter as the guys all greeted each other before fixing their plates and taking a seat at the round marble dining table. 

“So why the emergency meeting, “ Jimin asked bluntly, breaking the silence that overtook the room the moment they got Jin’s cooking in their mouths. 

Namjoon looked up at him irritably, “I was going to wait until we finished eating to talk to business,”

“It’s rude to leave people in suspense like that besides were good at multitasking,” Jimin countered with a bratty smile as he stuck his fork in his mouth

“Well I actually have a few interesting jobs that came up over the weekend. I also,” Namjoon sighed as he gathered his thoughts, “wanted to talk about the terms of the newest addition to the No Harm List,”

“What do you mean the terms?” Jungkook asked breaking the short silence that fell over the table, “I figured we just protect her like we do everyone else,” 

“Everyone else is two people, Jungkook.” Namjoon “And this is different Lena and Dax are old and keep to themselves. Their livelihood is in that diner by campus. We have them employ a member or two from BTS and they’re set and safe. Your girl is all over the place,” he explained Jungkook didn’t know if he liked or hated the pointed term.

“Whoa whoa hold up, your girl?” Hoseok asked, confused. He heard JK ran into some trouble over the weekend, but he didn’t realize it was bad enough to mean whoever got involved to be added to the No Harm List. “Can someone please catch me up on what’s going on?” He asked as he took in the brace on the younger's arm and healed his black eye. 

“Kook decided to go through a stroll down the 9th Ward alone last week, some Black Tips snuck up on him and got the best of him, He was so desperate some college girl had to intervene and save his ass,” Suga grumbled with a teasing smirk.

“Ya know I’m getting real tired of these implications,” Jungkook scoffed, letting his fork fall to his plate with a rattled. “I messed up big time and someone had to help me. That’s my bad, and I’m really ashamed of it. I’m not ashamed of the fact that the person that saved me was a woman, but I’m sure as hell tired of you ass holes acting as I should be.” 

Jin beamed proudly at the younger, “You're absolutely right Jungkookie. She’s a hero, and it’s wrong of us to imply otherwise” Jin said, sending a small glare at Yoongi and Namjoon who looked down at their plates, “But her being a woman does complicate things a little more. In a city like this it makes her all the more vulnerable, and even more important we try our best to keep her safe from threats we normally wouldn’t think about. It's important we talk about those things.”

Meanwhile, Hoseok paled as he made the connection between y/n and Jungkook. Jungkook looked at Jin sheepishly and as Hobi took his younger in he saw it, Bambi. Hoseok clenched his jaw and looked over and Jin across the table, who was not meeting his eyes. Jin was the only member who really knew who y/n was staying with him that summer and who y/n was to him. It was Jin’s job to know everything, he had to have connected the dots beforehand and didn’t give Hobi any kind of warning. 

“What's there to discuss,” he said roughly, his voice low drawing all eyes his way.

Namjoon hesitated feeling the change in the mood. Hoseok was like a ray of sunshine, so when he was upset you could feel the temperature drop. He shifted in his seat before he spoke confirming Hoseok's suspicion that he too knew who ‘Cinderella’ was

“We need to decide exactly how many resources are we going to expand on her, how involved in her life do we want to get to keep her safe?”

“What do you mean how involved? Isn’t the whole point of this to keep her safe from a distance, were not about to initiate her,” Hoseok snapped. 

“There's a bit of a compromising matter,” Suga mumbled all eyes shifted to him, “Y/n was wearing her work polo when she intervened, the Black Tips know where she works, and it doesn't take much to trail her after her shift the idiot walks home from work each night”

“Watch it” both Jungkook and Hoseok snapped in usion looking at each other a little shocked. 

Suga continues unphased, “The safest thing to do for this girl is get her fired from her job, but we don’t know her. Jin pulled that she's a college senior. So maybe she's about to get a job, but we have no clue if getting her fired is just going to put her out on the street and in even more danger.”

“She’s going to grad school, she needs that job.” Hoseok blurted

Jungkook looked at him, “You know her?”

“She’s a family friend. She's going to med school and she's going to get out of the west side as soon as she finishes school. She's not getting involved with BTS, it will only hold her back” he grumbled

Everyone stiffed at the unspoken words ‘like BTS holds him back’ Hobi had a chance to get out the west side before his sister died. He even had plans to have his tattoo removed after his sister graduated college. He wanted a better life for both of them. 

“So we get her a new job?” Tae offered with a shrug. 

“She doesn’t owe us a debt, we can’t just hire her somewhere, we have a system,” Namjoon started. 

“You're right, but we do have a debt to her” Jungkook started leaning forward. “Think about it, she compromised the safety of her employment to save me, we offer her new employment. It’s an exchange. Hobi said she's going to be a doctor, she’ll quit the job when she doesn't need it, that can be our way of ensuring her safety while she stays on the Westside. It would be way easier to keep up with her routines. Not to mention if she works in our territory we know no will touch her,” he said proudly with a smile. 

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile as well. That business minor may pay off after all. 

“The bakery does need a new set of hands since we moved Monica to the new club,” Jimin offered 

“Y/n’s next shift is tomorrow, we either get this taken care of before then, or we need someone to be at the store before she goes in incase they’re waiting there to gang up on her,” Hoseok informed

“I can have her boss do it tonight” Yoongi offered taking out his phone,

“Whoa whoa whoa you can't just-” Hobi struggled “How do we get her to work at the bakery”

“Tell her to apply,” Jin said simply

Hobi’s head was near spinning; this was happening too fast. You were too close to the part of his world that he never wanted you to touch. She was going to work at a BTS business, probably befriending Jin and Jimin in the process. Hobi looked at Jimin quickly, the womanizer already smiling at the thought of his cute new co-worker. “You don’t touch her,” he warned. 

“She's off-limits to all of you, got it” he pointed his stare at JK who slumped in his chair.

After a few orders of business involving a promising job for Hoseok to take on in the next month, and a round of dessert, Namjoon announced the meeting adjourned, the guys immediately wondered their way to the living room to start a round of video games, an unspoken tradition. “Hobi you want in this round?” Taehyung asked by holding up a controller. 

“Nah, I'm going to pass tonight. I have some stuff to do.” 

Taehyung shook his head solemnly as if he understood the weight in Hoseok's chest, and he might for all Hoseok knew he felt like the kid was capable of reading minds, before plopping on the couch between Jimin and Suga. Jungkook and Jin were in the kitchen washing up. Namjoon must have already retreated to his study, he’s been slammed since the opening of the club. Hoseok wished the other guys a quick goodnight before heading out. Hoseok made one stop by a nearby Deli picking up a large order of kimchi cheese fries and a 6 pack of apple cider beer before heading straight for your apartment. 

You were only mildly surprised when Hoseok showed up unannounced. You told him you had the evening off and that was basically an invitation for him to come over. You were already dressed down in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, your hair in a messy knot atop your head, your bangs pushed out of your face with your glasses frames even though the oils from your hair always streak the lenses.

“I’m not going out tonight,” you answer with your arms crossed, taking the way he was still dressed like a respectable human. 

“Good, because I was hoping for a night in,” he said as he held up his offering. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the familiar grocery bag and you assured him in. 

“You spoil me,” You said as you walked into your kitchen to grab two forks. Hobi slipped off his shoes before letting himself in the living room to get comfortable. He set the food down on the coffee table, noting that it was already littered with your laptop and a textbook. You must have been studying, you never did stop really. “Your sweats and stuff are in my bedroom in you wanna get comfy,” you offered as you sat cross-legged on the couch. “I’m fine I don’t want to keep you up too late,” he sighed as he unbuttoned his shirt a few notches to better relax. 

“Anything good on?” he asked nodding towards the TV that was playing some mindless home improvement channel. 

“The Bachelor comes on in 10 minutes, can we make fun of them?” you offered with a smile. 

This was your routine watching shitty TV and movies and making fun of it together. Other than marvel movies it was hard for the two of you to watch anything serious because you both talk over everything on the screen. Except for that one time you put on Vampire Diaries as a joke, and you both enjoyed it? You remember last winter being filled with near all-nighters as you were both captivated by the Salvator brothers. Not one of your proudest moments. 

You guys got through the intro, munching happily on kimchi fries and placing bets on who was going to cry before the end of the first date before you decided to break the ice. 

“So are you going to tell me the real reason you came over?”

Hoseok looked at you confused at the tail end of a fry hanging out his mouth as he struggled to stuff his face. “Wudd ya mmean” he asked through a mouth full. You wrinkled your nose in disgust. 

“Kimchi fries and beer, you're trying to make me compliant, and it’s working, so what do you need?” you clarified calling him out on his obvious bribe. 

He looked at you guiltily before taking a swig of beer and clearing his throat, “I want you to consider quitting your job,” he said simply. 

You froze, not expecting that at all, “If this is about the other night-”

“It’s not just about the other night,” he cut you off “All though yeah that is a big deal, the job is sketchy as hell the hours suck, and it doesn’t even pay that well,” 

You don’t know why you felt so defensive, suddenly ready to defend the honor of you convenience store job with a joust to the death, but your felt your face flush as you argued “929 is a good place to work, the owners are nice and understanding about school, the pay doesn't suck it's 50 cents above minimum wage and its close to home. Besides I can’t just not work-”

“I’m not asking you to not work,” Hobi started his voice overly soft the way he does when he tries to calm you down. It only riled you up. “I have a friend who works at this bakery, it’s really nice, they said they’re understaffed right now. The hours are just as nice and they pay $2 above minimum wage plus tips, the atmosphere is nice, and I think you would like it” he said simply. 

You tried to swallow down the lump of pride fighting its way up to your throat, You knew he was looking out for you and just wanted the best for you, but your feelings were hurt you felt like your job didn't seem good enough to him. He was always criticizing your choices. Claiming to be looking out for you. 

“There’s nothing wrong with my current job, and you know it”

You held his stare but didn’t open his mouth to argue. You could almost see the rusty gears in his stupid head spinning as he tried to think of a response that would rile you up more. The way he was tip-toeing around you and not calling you out for your bullshit excuse set you on edge.

“What aren’t you telling me?” you prompted and you watched the hesitation before he replied 

“Y/n, I’m not hiding anything, the job is available I thought it was a good opportunity and-”

“You’re a terrible liar” you cut him off with a scoff as you reached for your beer

“And you’re stupid if you think it’s safe to go back there, y/n they know where you work,” he pleaded

“No, they don’t I told you Ju- Bambi and I got away and hid in the shop if they saw us we would have known,”

“But they saw you in your work polo if they want to go looking for you that would be the first place to start,” he countered, you head your beer to your lips as you froze. 

“How did you know I was in uniform,” you asked softly 

He spluttered “I didn’t, I’m just assuming you-”

“No, no you seemed confident, you know something, don’t you?” you accused your anger sputtering back to life. 

“No I don’t know anything, y/n I swear,”

“Get out, you know I can’t stand liars” you hissed frustrated

“I’m not-” you shot him a withering glare that made him shut his mouth only confirming your suspicion. You watched him with disinterest as he got up leaning toward the table, “leave the beer,” you ordered as you watched his hand go near the six-pack. He only placed a business card on the table, the curly font reading ‘Sugar Daddy.’ You shoveled fries in your mouth in response trying your hardest to convey your petty anger through the action. You listened to him shuffle out the door and heard the click of the lock as he locked it after himself before he was gone. The bastard always looked out for your safety and it made you sick.  But still despite your pride what heated your body you felt goosebumps on your arms as the forewarned threat lingered in the back of your mind. 

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

You checked your watch again nervously as you stood at the edge of the sidewalk outside of Sugar Daddy, you were 25 minutes early, and you always prided yourself on being punctual, but 25 minutes seemed like just a little too long to wait inside the business before your interview. You didn’t want to seem awkward. You told yourself 15 minutes was an appropriately early time to prove your punctuality without seeming like a nuisance. You watched as patrons flitted in and out of the bakery carrying boxes of pastries and fancy looking coffees as you tried to process the past two days. 

Two days ago you got a phone call right before leaving your shift from your boss telling you not to come in today and that she had to let you go. You tried to beg her to keep you on staff, saying you were fine with taking fewer hours or even a small cut in wages if that would help, but she insisted there was no other way. The prospect of being unemployed hit you like a truck and your first instinct was to call Hoseok frantic and not knowing what to do. But you reminded yourself after the first ring that you were mad at him. For what exactly? For insulting a job that didn’t want you anymore?

You wondered what you did that could have qualified you for being fired, you always prided yourself on being a good and diligent worker, even getting a small raise after your first year at the shop. You were on the edge of your entire routine changing as you got closer to graduation, and the thought of losing your one constant made you want to unravel. 

You knew if you let the phone ring Hoseok would come over immediately to console you saying it was for the best. But you didn’t want to hear what was best for you from him. It took you the entire night of tossing and turning before you decided you would call the bakery the next morning. With the nearing of summer, part-time jobs were being gobbled up by high schoolers, and you didn’t have enough saved up to be unemployed for too long. 

You hated the thought of a handout, but at the end of the day, you were qualified for the job and thought yourself more than capable. The owner Seokjin was kind to you over the phone, telling you Hoseok had already put in a good word for you. You ignored the twinge in your heart and made yourself focus on the positive. The atmosphere seemed fun and the promise of early morning hours would work great with your current and future class schedule.    

So here you were, in a white button-up and slacks wanting to appear professional for the interview. Contemplating what you would do if this didn’t work out. You tried to ignore the small drop of sweat you felt forming at the back of your neck and running down your back, hoping you weren’t about to sweat through your blouse and decided maybe it was for the best if you just went inside now, in the safety of the air conditioning to maintain your professional appearance. Your makeup was light, some foundation and a light dusting of blush across your cheeks, you kept your eye makeup neutral and decided to go for a lip gloss instead of a colored lipstick, not wanting to have to worry about maintaining the pigment in a setting where you would be doing so much talking. 

When you entered the bakery you were hit with the sweet scent of pastries and baking bread mixed with the jolting smell of coffee. Your mouth started watering. The display cabinet by the register was filled with a colorful array of sweet treats, and the far side wall was made up of baskets filled with different loaves of bread people would walk up and choose from. You suddenly thought about backing out of the interview simply so you could maintain your figure which you knew would be at risk when you were surrounded by carbs all day and didn't have an ounce of self-control. 

You stood near the wall taking it all in when you saw a handsome man wearing an apron, with a smiling lump of dough with the word ‘Weirdough’ embroidered above it, approach you. He wore a light pink sweater that matched the icing on a number of the pastries with a pair of jeans and converse. He smiled at you and after further evaluation of his broad shoulders and full lips you confirmed that he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. 

“You must be y/n” he greeted, taking in your professional attire and the small portfolio you held with a death grip in your hand. You nodded unable to find your voice and his smile grew. “I'm Kim Seokjin, the owner,” he said offering you his hand, you accepted it hoping your hands weren’t as clammy as you felt they were and noticed the patch of ink peeking through the rolled-up sleeve of his forearm, but at this angle, you weren’t able to make out the design. 

 “Come on to the back and we can have a talk,” he said with a nod of his head before leading the way. You followed him past the counter and into the back where you saw a blond man in the corner kneading dough with a swirl of cinnamon coloring it.   

“Do you have any allergies, y/n?” he asked looking over his shoulder as you followed him through the kitchen to what you could only assume to be his office.  You shook your head and he sighed with relief, “thank goodness, we make an effort to accommodate all allergies and intolerances in our menu, but it’s a bit harder to escape in the kitchen. I once interviewed someone with a cinnamon allergy, and let's just say that did not go well,” he let out a squeaking laugh and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“You’re shy for a friend of Hoseok’s although I wouldn’t be surprised if he did all the talking, the only time that man is quiet is when he has a mouthful of food,” 

You let out a startled laugh at the slight jab as you closed the office door and helped yourself to the chair across his cluttered desk adjusting the pillow behind you slightly as you settled. The feeling of tension in your shoulders ease and the knots in your stomach loosened as you took in the cozy office. You took in Jin’s warm presence, still looking so casual even when sitting behind a desk in the business he owned and found yourself able to relax around him.

“Not at all it just takes a minute for my social battery to warm up, he’ll be the one telling me to shut up once I get started,” you said with a smile forcing a persona of confidence up your throat. 

You learned at a young age you truly could fake it till you make it in most social settings. Making your body language appear more confident than you felt. You just needed a few minutes of observing whoever it was you were meeting, formulating how to match their mood. The right amount of humor in your voice, the right amount of attitude. Many thought you were clever and funnier than you actually were. When really you were just a good listener, making a habit of referencing jokes they already made earlier in the conversation to charm them, and get them talking about themselves more before deciding which side of yourself to show them. 

Many could misunderstand your attempt at social survival as you being fake, but you saw it more as adapting to your environment. You never pretended to be someone you weren't; you merely highlighted qualities of yourself that would be most appealing to the setting you were in. Most people do it unintentionally. You were just more aware of it, had to make more of an effort in doing it, to overcome your own anxieties.

Jin grinned as he rolled the sleeves of his sweater back down his arm, you again glimpsed the flash of a tattoo making out a familiar geometric shape. “I understand that completely, I’m the same way,” he offered as he leaned back in his chair. And you felt warm as you realized maybe you wouldn’t have to ride out this interview on false confidence after all. Seokjin seemed to be a kind and understanding man, his warm smile putting you at ease despite the interview setting. 

The two of you continued on with the interview asking the usual questions before Jin asked you to detail your previous work experience at 929. Afterward, he gave you a brief overview of what your duties at the bakery would entail; baking, taking care of the cash register, making coffees, and cleaning. You were a little intimidated by the thought of being responsible for preparing food, but he assured you you wouldn’t be left in the kitchen alone until they felt you were comfortable. 

“So could you start your training tomorrow afternoon?”  he asked as he opened his calendar adjusting the glasses on his nose. 

“You want to- I’m hired?” you asked in surprise. 

Jin smiled at you warmly, “You seem more than capable, and we are in need of a new set of hands, so if you’re still wanting to work here then yes” 

“O-ofcourse, yes thank you, thank you so much,” you said shaking his hand. 

Seokjin gave you some paperwork to fill out before excusing himself to go check on a few things. You took in the office now that you had a moment to yourself appreciating the slight messiness to the desk that was covered in stacks of paperwork, and a few sheets sprawled in handwritten notes of what looked to be recipes, but overall the room was clean. The bookshelves behind the desk were filled with cookbooks of all kinds, a few business-related titles, and to your surprise what appeared to be a chemistry book or two on the bottom shelves were also accompanied by a few knick-knacks and Mario figurines all strategically placed and dust-free. Above the door was a small wooden plaque that said “All you knead is Love”  underlined by a rolling pin. The room overall felt cozy and homey, but maybe that was just the pillow in your chair with the phrase “Espresso yourself” in loving needlepoint, that was doing the talking. 

You gave him your banking information and student citizenship card to document in the system so he could add you to payroll, and within an hour you found yourself walking out of the office with plans to be back at 1 pm tomorrow to start your training. 

“Were asking you to come so late because the morning rush is our busiest time, I would hate for you to be overwhelmed,” Seokjin clarified as he walked you out of the front of the store. 

“Please take something home with you before you go,” he offered, sliding open one of the pastry cabinet doors. This couldn’t be real. Your luck couldn't be this good. You grinned as you selected a flakey blackberry strudel pastry that was braided in a long rope and covered in sparkling sugar. It was delicious, and then you were ready to make your way out the door. 

That is until a familiar face made his way out from the kitchen.

“Hey, boss where did you- oh hello princess what are you doing here?”  Jimin purred with a Cheshire smile 

“Jimin,” Jin warned softly before turning to you with a customer service smile, genuine, but not as warm as the one he revealed to you before. 

“This is Jimin,” Seokjin introduced gesturing at the blond in front of you, “He’s going to be one of your co-workers, he’ll actually be here to help with your training tomorrow.” he introduced “But it seems like you already know each other” he voice ended in a question 

Jimin looked you up and down with a smile as he swept his bangs back from his forehead, you shifted your weight from leg to leg feeling so flustered under his gaze that you almost missed the geometric tattoo on his forearm twin to the one Seokjin had on his,  “We've crossed paths once or twice, I thought you preferred to go by Ella around these parts?” Jimin asked with a knowing look his voice intensifying with his inflection  

“Is that true?” Jin asked his voice laced with concern

You swallowed keeping your eyes on Jimin even as you turned your head to Jin and nodded accepting the protection Jimin offered, “I know my family name isn’t as easy on Alcorn's preferred tongue,” you offered as explanation letting your native accent poke through a bit more to sell your point. 

Jin raised an eyebrow but nodded in understanding, “In that case, I’ll put Ella on your name tag if that makes you more comfortable.” And with that you took your cue to go, your head spinning as you made your way down the block pastry still clamped in your hand.

“Do you think the cover name is really necessary?” Jin asked as he made his way to the register reliving Monic for her ten. 

“Hoseok said she didn’t want her to be affiliated with BTS after she leaves the Westside, and it’s the name Jungkook gave her the night we met. I figured it would appease both of them.” Jimin offered, “besides you have to admit, it is kinda sweet,” he said with a smile Jin rolled his eyes. 

“Jungkook really called her Cinderella, I swear he could romanticize roadkill if you let him think about it for too long,” Jin said with a huff.  “At least she managed to get a cute nickname out of it,” he added as an afterthought. 

“Cute name for a cute girl” Jimin's smile was a little too predatory for Jin’s taste. 

“Yah, get back in the kitchen, what am I paying you for?” the elder ordered with a smack to his shoulder. 

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

You found yourself standing outside of Sugar Daddy at 12:45p.m. the next day, determined to keep your reputation for punctuality, and smiled at Jin as you came in. 

You wore a white blouse with a pair of light jeans and yellow flats for a pop of color. You were still unsure of how formal or casual to dress for work, having a uniform at your last job gave you no point of reference, so you elevated your casual attire by accessorizing with a pair of yellow dangling earrings the same color as your shoes and a matching silk scarf you wrapped around your hair tie, letting the long ends with a pattern of honeycomb and bees fall just short of your ponytail. You felt like the soft color pallet of the outfit would help you match the vibe of the bakery better, but you may have to get more creative with your wardrobe if you made a habit of it since a majority of your closet was black.

“Ella,” Jin greeted as you made your way to the counter hovering as you were unsure of whether or not to join him behind it. “I’m glad you're a little early, I had something come up that afternoon that I can't seem to get out of, so I wanted to take you in the back and get you started in the kitchen before I have to go. Jimin will train you upfront after that,” he explained before bringing you back in the kitchen where Jimin was frosting sugar cookies with seasonally appropriate designs. You didn’t remember artistic talent being part of the job descriptions, so you hope that task was reserved for him. 

Jimin gave you a kind but unusually quiet smile as he looked up from his work taking his silent cue to head up to the front. You didn’t know what you expected from him today, but the mild mannerism surprised and confused you a bit. Finding out he was your coworker set your nerves on edge yesterday, you had to face the fact that your adventures from last week may not be something you could put behind you. And the fact that you felt more eagerness than dread was a whole other concern you weren’t ready to unbox just yet.

 You wondered exactly what would come from working at a ‘gangster bakery.’ 

The thought of a gangster bakery was so odd you felt silly for being worried about it. You didn’t feel like you were in danger per se, you recognized the symbol on Jimin and Seokjins forearm as the same one that marked Hoseok’s. If this was his way of bringing you into his world after being closed off for so long you weren’t entirely opposed to it. You knew he loved you and wanted to keep you safe. The thought of Hoseok being connected to the night you met Jungkook simultaneously put you at ease and fed your worries.  

It made the unknowns of that night less intimidating. Hoseok being in the same gang as the group of men who know where you live meant he could possibly protect you from them. But the thought of Hoseok being affiliated with that kind of violence also made you so nervous it put your stomach in knots. 

You also realized Hoseok knowing them didn’t mean you were safe. It was stupid for you to assume so, but having a job with them and getting to know them better gave you a chance to evaluate your situation a bit better. That's what you were hoping at least. 

“Ella?” Jin questioned pulling you from your thoughts. You looked up startled to see you had fixated on the ink on his forearm while your thoughts had run wild. 

“I’m sorry what did you say?” you asked flushed and you bit at the skin on your bottom lip. 

“I said let’s get you an apron,” he said hold out the gray canvas to you. It was then that you saw he was wearing a different apron from yesterday, today said ‘Donut worry. Be happy.”

You unfolded your apron to find it blank, but lined with pockets at the waistline and two tortoise shelled buttons where the straps connected to the top, and unnecessary but fashionable detail. “Don’t worry, I’ll have your embroidered once we find the right pun,” Jin assured as if it was an actual concern. 

Your time in the kitchen went by quickly, after a thorough tour of where all the supplies were he showed you how to navigate the iPad that had all the recipes currently on the menu. The recipes were written out in nice steps that made it near impossible to mess it up. Or so Jin thought until you got in the kitchen. 

The first accident happened when you got to the mixer, you were making a classic chocolate chip recipe. The measuring of ingredients went by easily, your time in the labs had served you well. But you had never used such a fancy piece of machinery in the kitchen. You forgot to lock the blender down, so when you pushed the dile to turn it on, putting it at max, butter quickly flew out of the metal bowl and right onto Jin’s cheek. You were both horrified and amused by the shocked sound that ripped through his throat. And had to stifle your laughter as he excused himself to wash up in the bathroom mumbling about being worried about breaking out. He decided that later that night he would write directions for all the equipment in the bakery. 

Once the cookies were in the oven you were tasked with preparing some cupcakes so you could practice frosting. Any downtime you thought you would get from the pastries cooking was spent cleaning and weighing out the ingredients to the next thing. Two dozen cookies and a dozen muffins later you were finally faced with your worst fear, the decoration station. The cupcakes had cooled and you were given the task to pile them high with a swirl of frosting, place a strawberry in the pile at just the right angle, and drizzle white chocolate over it artistically. You would rather dissect a frog. After two failed attempts, Jin took pity and decided to show you his technique for a third time, when his alarm went off. 

“Ella, I hate to cut us short, but I need to get going, you can head upfront with Jimin if you want.”

You did not want. 

But you smiled brightly at him with a cheery ‘of course’ and wished him a good afternoon before heading to the front of the bakery. Behind the counter, Jimin was leaning across the register scrolling through his phone in boredom. He fumbled to put his phone up quickly when he heard you come through the door.

 “Gosh you scared me I thought you were Jin,” he sighed as you approached, carefully as you balanced a tray of cupcakes in your arms.

“Sorry to disappoint?” you said hesitantly as you set down the tray on the countertop tugging at the skin on your bottom lip subconsciously as you focused on keeping the tall towers of icing from tipping. .

“How did baking 101 go, I don’t smell anything burning,” he said, making easy conversation before raising an eyebrow at your sloppy decor job. 

You sighed, “I’m surprised he hasn't fired me yet” you near groaned as you debated your employment. Jimin laughed.

“Well at least you only got a little flour in your hair,” he teased gesturing toward the near-white strand, “Oh no!” You gasped  searching for a reflective surface to assure you were presentable. “Relax it comes with the job, I get flour in all kinds of places,” he amended. 

“No one wants to hear about your places,” a deep voice broke startling you. You looked up to see a grinning V standing across from you at the counter, you hadn’t even noticed he was there when you came in. 

“Oh, it’s you,” you stated dumbly as you turned to Jimin. Tae tilled his head in an oddly felin gestur his curls shifting atop his head as he took you in. 

“It’s always a pleasure to see you too my darling El, got any business?” he smirked as you watched him pluck a strawberry from your cupcake and pop it in his mouth. 

“Hey, I was going to sell those,” you snapped ignoring his comment as he reached for another one of the berries.

“No you weren’t,” Taehyung replied simply between chews, “they’re ugly” he said punctuating the point as he ate a third strawberry. You turned to Jimin in hopes of him defending your honor, but he only smiled at you confirming your decorating deficiency.   

“Alright, that enough,” you hissed, pulling the tray away from him, he chuckled softly before retreating to his side of the counter space right as Seokjin walked out the kitchen decked out in a full suit. It was at that moment you realized Taehyung was dressed in formal attire as well. 

“How do I look Ella?” Jin asked with a confident smile. You started at him wide-eyed glancing quickly at Jimin as you debated the HR policies you read in your hiring contract before settling with a safe “Umm very handsome, sir” 

“Oh god you’ll only make it worse,” Jimin groaned right as Jin gave a confident, “I know,” in response. 

“We should get going,” Tae said looking over to you with a grin “It was a pleasure seeing you, princess,” he said with a flirtatious wink that you were not at all affected by, before turning to walk out the door. Jin gave a quick goodbye, reminding Jimin to behave before the following suit and getting into a familiar sleek black car parked illegally in front of the shop. 

“I guess we should get started then,” Jimin said with a smile, and suddenly you had a whole new set of nerves. 

Working the front of the store was a lot easier than the kitchen. You were already experienced with the cash register system they used, only needing to familiarize yourself with their menu and how to specialize orders. The pastries all had description cards in the display cabinet, so it was easy to know what is what as well as describe it to the customers. The only thing you had to learn really was how to make coffee. You weren't a stranger to fancy coffee shops, almost regularly indulging in an overpriced, over-sweetened cup yourself. But Navigating the equipment will take some time for you to get used to. And considering how grumpy customers got in the mornings Jimin took extra time to make sure you had the basics down to prepare you for the morning shift.

"And then you just pour the milk in like this," Jimin said with a smile as he made a flawless heart in the milk once again. It had been a slow afternoon at the shop, ideal for training you, and once he was sure you got the hang of things he decided he could give you a head start on mastering your barista skills, because you were not going near the frosting again if he could help it. 

The counter was lined with cups filled with various drinks and failed latte art attempts, and the few customers you have had this afternoon had been delighted with the free coffee that came with their purchase. You and Jimin were also buzzing after drinking one too many of the failed attempts. 

"If you ever have time and you want the drink to be really good, mix the syrup in with the milk when you steam it, it may take a little extra cleaning, but it helps the flavor stay consistent throughout the drink," he continues as he demonstrated again on a new cup of milk, you watched the milk slowly darken as the chocolate syrup blended in and became frothy. He poured the milk into a cup of espresso skipping the art in favor of adding whipped cream on top before drizzling it perfectly with chocolate syrup. You gasped as he added a marshmallow on top and lit it on fire with a small torch by the register.

"Ta-da!" he said with a grin, "It has toasted marshmallow syrup in it too. The Fireside it’s one of our more popular drinks. Tell me what you think." he said while offering you the beverage.

You blew out the marshmallow with a quick puff of air before tentatively taking a sip, your taste buds danced in delight, "Oh my gosh this is delicious!" you beamed as you looked at him in amazement. He giggled, ruffling his hair as he thanked you.

"Yeah, I get pretty bored here when it gets slow on nights like this, so I kinda let my creativity run wild. Jin lets me have a specialty menu," he said nodding towards the small chalkboard propped by the register, "and if something in particular becomes a hit then he'll add it to the official menu."

Sugar Daddy was basically an equal parts bakery and coffee shop. The business set itself apart by being specialized in having out of the ordinary pastries and drinks like the Fireside where they lit a marshmallow on fire. To be honest Jimin tried to incorporate fire into the menu as much as possible. He was a bit of a pyromaniac at times. 

The bakery had a modern feel despite being fit into an older building off the main street of the 7th ward. It wasn’t overly girlish in that sickening way most trendy bakeries are headed, where they are over saturated with pastel colors and curly font menus that were damn near impossible to read. No, Sugar Daddy had a relaxed and cozy vibe; the red brick walls and hardwood floors were complemented with more industrial decor, like the minimalist wire basket wall filled with bread and bagels to be sold,  and the Edison light bulbs that hung over the display cases. 

"That's so cool!" you said genuinely impressed by his creativity as you read through the flavors on the list. "Honestly Jimin, some of these pastries are so beautiful they're basically art," you continued as you peeked at the display case again admiring the lavender blossoms painted on the small lavender macaroons.

"You're too kind," he said bashfully and you shook your head as you stole another sip of your coffee, a dollop of whipped cream sticking to your nose in the process. Jimin stepped forward, whipping it with his finger with a swift but gentle flick, fighting the urge to lick his finger as he kept eye contact with you. You looked away shyly, a blush staining your cheek. Off limits. he reminded himself begrudgingly.

"Let's take another go at the register. We don't want you to slip up in the middle of rush hour," he said before turning away and breaking any tension that may have built between you two.

Jimin was a natural flirt, but you made it dangerously easy. He was going to have to keep himself in check as he gets to know you more. You were so enthusiastic about everything he's taught you so far and your personality was sweet enough to give him a cavity even in a bakery. But then you kept surprising him with a snide comment or joke that made him do a double-take, your seemingly innocent eyes suddenly appearing all too knowing. It was your first day and you were already driving him crazy.

For a while he was drilling you again, listing off random orders and making you ring them up on the register as you familiarized yourself with the menu. You were both starting to lose interest, as the streetlight outside came on indicating to Jimin you had a little over an hour until closing, and he was worried you may not see another customer for the evening when the bell chimed and a couple entered the store arm and arm.

 "You take this one," he encouraged taking a step back to clean up the coffee equipment. You greeted them cheerfully complimenting the woman on her blouse so effortlessly, Jimin wondered if it came naturally or if you were gunning for tips.

Jimin clicked with you well. There were no awkward pauses or hiccups that normally came with training days. You were confident and capable so much so he almost found it a little intimidating at first, found himself seeming like he was the shy one as he struggled to think about what to show you next. You were making small talk with the couple as you collected the pastry of choice for them out the cabinet, rushing it to a natural end as the bell chimed from another customer entering the store. He could tell you were practiced in customer service, your overall energy was both warm and efficient, and he could hear the slight tone in your adapt depending on who you were interacting with. 

“Good evening, what can I get for you, sir,” 

“I’ll have a cortado,” Jimin froze as he recognized the familiar voice, looking over his shoulder to see Kim Namjoon standing across from you at the counter.

“Late night?” you asked as you smiled at him sweetly and scrolled through the list of drinks to ring him up. 

“I find I’m more productive in the evenings,” Namjoon responded smoothly. 

“I say the same thing, but if we’re honest I think I’m just guilty of procrastination,” you joked as you wrote his order on a cup and handed it to Jimin, who tried his best to keep one eye on you and the espresso machine as he made the drink. 

“Thank you, Ella,” Namjoon said as he dropped his coins in the tip jar with a rattle, and took his drink from Jimin with a small smile. 

“You seem tense,” you said softly as you watch Namjoon take a seat at one of the tables scrolling through his phone. 

Jimin blinked quickly before turning to you with a smile, “Not at all princess, but it’s almost time for closing so let me show you how we pack and clean up everything,” he said with a smile. Before he could go further the bell chimed again and to his displeasure saw another one of his brothers enter the shop. Jungkook looked about as shocked to see you as you did, despite having the warning. Jimin forgot he and Namjoon were taking care of a deal tonight and using the storefront as a meeting place. 

Jimin watched Namjoon frown as Jungkook walked passed him. A dopey smile forming on the idiot’s face as he strolled up to the counter. You didn’t take your eyes off him as you brushed by Jimin to take his order. Saints, you were both pathetic.

“What can I get you?” you asked your voice shy and small as you reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Caramel macchiato,” his articulate brother responded softly. 

Jimin watched Jungkook shift he weight as you rang him up searching for something to say before blurting, “I saw you the other day, at the library”

Your smile faltered, “Yaeh, I know the elevator you-”

“Sorry I didn’t say hi, I guess that was pretty weird,” he laughed rubbing the back of his neck nervously

“It was,” you agreed, eyebrows furrowing, and Jimin had to hide his smile with his hand as he watched the younger deflate. You were brutal and Jimin adored it. 

“But you can say hi now?” you offered catching your mistake. 

Jungkook flushed as a smile broke across his cheeks and gave a soft, “Hey Ella,”

“Hey Jungkook,” you responded as you smiled back at him endearingly and he felt his stomach flutter at the fact that you remembered his name. Jimin wanted to bang his head into a wall at the sight of the middle school romance blooming in his shop. He looked around for inspiration desperate to spoil the moment before your eyes turned into actual hearts.  

“Kook,” Namjoons voice almost echoed in the quiet bakery and you both jumped as you handed Jungkook back his card, “Sorry coming,” he called walking over to the elder. 

They exchanged words softly, Jungkook plugging a jump drive into Namjoons laptop as Jimin talked you through preparing his drink. By time you were ready to bring the drink to him he was gone, “You can set it on the table.” Namjoon said with a sweet smile flashing two crater deep dimples at you. “Jungkookie is just running something over to a friend he’ll be back soon,” he assured. You flushed and realized you probably looked disappointed by his absence and set the steaming mug on the table, wishing to all gods that Namjoon wouldn't notice how you teasingly wrote ‘Hey :)’ in caramel sauce on top of his drink. Stupid, stupid you hissed to yourself as you returned to a smirking Jimin. What were you doing exactly? Flirting??

Jimin got you started with closing the kitchen, standing the doorway to keep one eye at the front of the shop while directing you on how to wipe down the ovens and prep some of the yeast for tomorrow morning. 

At one point Suga came into the shop and chatted with Namjoon, but he didn’t order anything so he kept you in the kitchen deciding you didn’t need to meet the entire household tonight. When you did all that you could while the shop was still open Jimin had you come back to the front to show you how to clean the coffee machines. Namjoon was still at the table in the corner, a small plate of lemon cake half-eaten in front of him as he worked on his computer and Jungkook’s cooling mug across from him untouched. 

“El your sleeves are soaked,” Jimin groaned, noticing the dingy white fabric, “here.” he sighed, reaching for your wrist and rolling your sleeve up your forearm. “You’re going to have to make a habit of rolling your sleeve now that you work in a kitchen,” he said as he reached for the other one. 

You nodded not really hearing him as your own eyes looked down at his arms. You realized while you established you were probably safe to work here, that you still haven’t gotten any answers about the guys. 

“I like your tattoo,” you said, your voice sounding more forced than casual, but Jimin stiffened in response before letting a small smirk crawl across his face, “Yea, you got any?” he asked as he finished and dropped your arm. You shook your head as you shifted uncomfortably, “No, not yet at least, I think they’re super cool though. What does yours mean?” you prompted trying to make yourself seem only slightly interested. 

Jimin glanced over his shoulder to Namjoon observing the two of you with a raised brow, and Jimin rolled his eyes. It’s not like BTS was his secret, it was Hoseok’s. “It’s a family crest,” Jimin replied dismissively, 

Your brows rose in disbelief, “Really it’s so modern looking, I didn’t realize you and Jin were kin.” you prodded as you returned to wiping down the counter. 

Annoyance flashed across his face before he huffed, “We’re very distant cousins, but he’s like a brother to me.”

“Wow you must have a massive family,” you prompted with a smile. And Jimin’s eyes glinted as he saw a way out of your little interrogation. “Very,” he said as he leaned in to whisper, “that's not the only massive thing I have though,”

You immediately turned scarlet stepping away from him, “Jimin,” you hissed scandalized. He smiled cheekily before turning back to the floor, “C’mon nosey let's get back to work.” he prompted. You and Jimin continued cleaning and whipping down the counters before the shop finally closed. Jungkook never came back, and you tried not to look disappointed as you took the cold coffee cup, off the table along with Namjoon’s cake plate. Most of your message sunk to the bottom of the cup in a large sugar lump. You noticed Namjoon still sat at his table working after Jimin flipped the sign, and Jimin saw the curiosity in your eyes as you placed the dishes in the sink. 

“He’s the owner,” Jimin offered as explanation. 

Confusion wrinkled your brow “I thought Jin was the owner?”

At this Jimin’s eyes turned to crescents as he smiled “He owns Jin.” he said simply before returning to the dishes. Once the dishes were dried and put away Jimin took you to the back to finish cleaning the kitchen and preparing the dough to rise for the morning’s bread. 

“It’s getting late, why don’t you head home early,” Jimin offered as you placed reusable cling wrap over another bowl.

“Are you sure, we’re not done?” you asked confused, he nodded with a smile. Feeling tired from the long day you decided to take him up on the offer. You quickly slipped off your apron and gathered your things before leaving the store Jimin locking the door behind you. 

You shuffled down the street as you dug in your bag to grab your pepper spray, while this area was lit much better than your old job, you still were taking a maximum precaution on your walk home. 

“Y/n?” 

You squealed in shock as you whirled swinging your purse at your attacker. Jungkook didn’t seem affected at the bag met his arm with a loud smack, but he looked at you sheepishly as he apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just going to offer to walk you home”

“Gosh, Jungkook I could have hurt you what were you thinking sneaking up on me like that,” Jungkook laughed as he started walking with you, “No you couldn’t have, I barely felt that,” he teased bumping you slightly with a solid shoulder. 

“Don’t tempt me to try again, I’ll make sure you feel it next time,” you threatened lightly. He grinned cheekily at you 

“I could teach you, ya know?” he offered and you raised a brow for him to elaborate, “How to fight- defend yourself I mean, you held your own the other night, but it’s important that people like you know how to defend themselves properly in a city like this,” 

You scoffed, “First things first, I believe it was you who got jumped the other night, and I saved your ass” you reminded

“You did a great job of distracting them, so I could take control of the situation,” he corrected. You ignored him. 

“Secondly, what do you mean people like me?” you asked a flush already creeping up your cheeks. Is it a compliment to be told that your pretty enough to be kidnapped? You made a mental note to reevaluate you standards of what is and isn’t a compliment in the shower later. 

“People who walk home from work at night,” Jungkook clarified and your face fell as you realized he wasn’t flirting with you. He was being a sensible and nice guy. 

“Thanks, but I think I can handle my own,” you said your voice flat, and Jungkook wondered what he said wrong this time. 

“Oh, c’mon I can teach you the good ole’ one, two,” he insisted punching his fist through the air for emphasis.

It was at that moment you caught sight of the trapezoid design on his forearm two. You don't know why you were surprised, You reached grabbed his arm gently pulling it to get a better look, the inner doctor in you trying not to lust after the thick veins protruding from his arm. You should ask him if he donates blood often. “What does it mean exactly,” you asked catching him off guard. 

“The family symbol” you elaborated as you traced the pad of your finger softly around each side. Jungkook tried to contain the shiver that ran through him but had no way of stopping the way he felt his heart swell at your question. You knew. Hoseok or Jimin must have told you. But you knew he was in a gang and you weren’t repulsed by it, you saw it for what it was, a family. You were even willing to let him walk you home. He smiled brightly as he responded,

“They’re doors,” he said simply, “One open inwards one open outwards, it’s supposed to mean you’re never alone, there’s always somewhere for you to go when you're part of the family, The symbol is a promise that you’ll take care of each other.”  

You angled your head as you saw the doors and smiled softly, “So what’s the family name,” you asked still trying to wrap your head around how a Park, Kim, and Jung could all be kin. Their grandparent must have been busy, 

“BTS?” Jungkook asked confused “Oh it stands for-” Jungkook stopped as he saw the way your face fell. 

“BTS as in the gang?” you asked and he tried to not dwell on the waiver in your voice.

 “So you didn’t know,” Jungkook said realizing his mistake. 

“Well I figured, I mean I always assumed Hoseok was apart of something, but when I asked Jimin he said it was a family crest and then you had that beautiful explanation and I thought. I thought for a second that maybe,” your face turned red as you got flustered, “Maybe someone would be honest with me for once, but no I work at a gangster bakery.” You huffed your mouth set into a firm pout as you continue your rant, “ Which is the most absurd thing, by the way, you guys should really re-evaluate your business tactics. Open a dive bar or something cool” you said starting to pick up your pace as you grew frantic or furious. Jungkook couldn’t really tell. 

“Y/n, please I’m sorry I thought you knew,” Jungkook  pleased

And you laughed humorously, “I should have I’m so stupid I really thought-”  Jungkook struggled to understand you as you continued to mumble to yourself angrily your mouth in a firm pout as you turned around to head in the opposite direction. 

“Where are you going?” Jungkook was jogging to keep up with you as you were on the border of full-on sprinting. 

“To talk to my best friend, I wanna know if he’s capable of telling the truth” you hissed and Jungkook slowed as you turned on the road of Hoseok’s apartment complex. 

“Oh man, oh man, oh man” he huffed, pressing his hands to his ears in despair. He tailed you slightly just to make sure you got there safe before quickly sending a warning text to Hobi. Though he wasn’t sure anything could properly prepare the man for you.

You stomped of the flight of stairs in Hoseok’s building, banging on the door to warn him before you dug through your purse for your keys. 

“Y/n?” Hoseok asked confused as he opened the door, you shoved right past him near hysteric with anger, “Let’s talk,” you snapped as you made your way into the living room.

“Y/n, what the hell is going on?” he demanded taking in your disheveled state. 

“I was just wondering now that I got fired from my job and work at your gangster bakery how long until I get my own cute little tattoo,” you said with a saccharine smile. Hoseok’s stomach dropped, “I can explain.” he started.

“I bet you can,” you snapped before your eyes watered your emotions quickly getting the best of you, “Hobi, I don’t wanna be mad I just wanna know the truth.” you pleaded voice wavering. And that was the truth, you felt like you could care less if he was in a gang. It was Alcorn, you had to be in a gang to survive if you weren’t rich. The only reason you hadn’t joined one yourself was because you were an international student and no one cared about you, but even that hadn’t kept you out of it. You and Daewon almost joined Black Pink, a notorious girl gang at your university during a drunken mishap your freshman year.   

Upon seeing your eyes water and your lip tremble Hoseok instantly wished you would scream at him. He didn’t want to hurt you. He didn’t mean for it to go this far. For you two to get so close after his sister's death, or for him to lie to you for so long. He told himself he kept you out of it for your safety, but really it was just too easy for him to live two lives, for you to look at him like he wasn’t a murderer and for him to pretend for a few hours that he wasn’t. He sighed sitting on the couch and you plopped down next to him and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. 

“I guess it’s best to start at the very beginning which was when I was around 16,” he started.

A/N: Whew this is the longest thing I’ve written (so far). And I’m super stoked to see what everyone thinks! I had a personal deadline to post before the end of the month bc I’m working 40 hours a week and taking online classes, but I got hit by a truckload of insperation and have felt so beyond flattered by the comments that I started writing during my lunch break and shot this bad booy out and plotted out possibly nine chapters?? So stay tuned y’all we’re in for a long ride. As always thank you for reading! Please comment if you feel led they really help me out!!! <3

pt.4 

[konohagakureship]

Hidan and Kakuzu d&d au! Two more members of the Akatsuki Fellowship!! They are travelling around Khorvaire, in the world of Eberron!

au! Akatsuki D&D

Headcanons:

All the info related to places and clans is from the canonic lore of Eberron, or from interpretations that I’ve found here and there, and also a bit of my own homebrew lore. I’m gathering all the info and sources in my WorldAnvil page so you can check it out if you want :)

And this is the map with notes so you can pin all the locations.

This time I chose to put only the info relevant to the characters to make the post shorter. But still, this will be a LONG post so be prepared xD

Founding of the Akatsuki Fellowship

All the members of the party met in Sharn, the biggest city of the continent of Khorvaire. They were there for different reasons but ended up travelling together across the world.

Hidan the bloody warlock

Hidan was born in the warrior nation of Karrnath in the city of Atur, where the living and dead coexist in a daily basis.

His parents were members of the Blood of Vol cult, and actively participated in the life of the Crimson Monastery, the largest worship site dedicated to Vol in the entire continent. 

From a young age, his parents instructed him in the faith of the Divinity Within and encouraged him to follow their path and become a Seeker of the Blood of Vol.

The Blood of Vol is a religion centered on the belief of Divinity Within, which means that they do not revere any deity but the blood that courses through their own veins. The followers of the Blood of Vol are called Seekers, and many of them are necromancers employed by the government of Karrnath to control their undead soldiers. 

Seekers believe that death is a curse prevent mortals from achieving divinity, so by breaking the curse of mortality, humanity will be able to live a plenty existence. Necromancy is an attempt to fight the curse of mortality and prevent the loss of the knowledge and skills obtained by past generations. 

Contrary to the popular belief, Seekers cherish life and do not want to become undead. Those who become undead are considered to be martyrs who have given up their own chance at divinity to help others, since they will become tools for the living.

The Blood of Vol cult is ruled from Atur by The Crimson Covenant.

At the age of twelve, Hidan showed signs of possessing magical abilities, which catched the interest of the Cult and welcomed him into the Crimson Monastery to train his powers in favor of their religion and ulterior plans.

Hidan had always been an avid follower of his faith, but soon after joining the Monastery he started to interpret it in his own terms.

His warlock status made him believe that his blood carried the divine will, and that his mission was to actively fight for the Divinity Within by converting all the misguided mortals to The Blood of Vol, or sending them to their deceiving gods to see for themselves how misguided they were. 

The years passed and Hidan only grew more powerful and reckless, learning and crafting unique invocations to unleash his magic at its fullest potential.

His ever growing power mixed with his free interpretation of the beliefs of The Blood of Vol, marked him as an individual too independent and powerful to escalate in the ranks of the Cult.

In an attempt to channel his energy and give him a purpose, The Covenant prompted him to join the Order of the Emerald Claw, the paramilitary arm of the Blood of Vol, and sent him to Rekkenmark.

The Order of the Emerald Claw is an outlawed organization of Karrn patriots and Blood of Vol worshippers spread throughout Khorvaire. They continue to operate in a semi-terrorist fashion to this day, proclaiming their desire to see Karrnath once again rise to power.

Their connection to the Cult is only known by highest ranking members of the Order.

Hidan was sent to Rekkenmark, in the border with Thrane. His cell had the undercover mission to hunt down any paladin of the Church of the Silver Flame that entered Karrnath with the intention of killing Vol’s vampires and undeads.

The Blood of Vol is a forbidden religion in some regions of the continent due to the evil connotations associated with their practices, and many groups such as the Church of the Silver Flame actively works to destroy them.

His days as an Emerald Claw Knight were short, though.

At the beginning, Hidan thought that the Order was his rightful place, that surrounded by powerful patriots he will be able to bring the divine will to all the mortals and spread his faith to the edge of the world.

However, he soon started to feel disenchanted with how the Order handled their business and how little they cared about his divine will. He realised that like in the Monastery, the Order also lacked of determination, and so he began to make their creed his and reform it by his own standards.

The time passed and Hidan grew more reckless and discarded his superior’s orders more frequently, which caused friction within his cell. 

By recommendation of The Covenant, when the situation became unsustainable, The Emerald Claw “prompted” him to take his own path and fight for the Order by himself in his own terms, far away from Rekkenmark.

Instead of going back to Atur, Hidan decided to travel the world, free from any restraints, finding misguided mortals to convert to the Blood of Vol and killing all those who didn’t want to achieve immortality.

Unsurprisingly for everyone but himself, his homicidal activities granted him the status of “kill in sight” in many cities, and soon the bounty for his head was high enough to buy a villa in the upper levels of Sharn.

So Hidan, a powerful warlock and Seeker, spent the following years running away from the law and inquisitors of every city he stepped on. He never bothered to hide his presence anyway...

After a near death experience with a Flame paladin in Sigilstar, he traveled to Sharn, where he knew he could hide from prying eyes and find refuge in one of the Order’s liars. 

However, The Emerald Claw rejected to host him as he attracted too much attention, forcing him to hide in the lowest levels of the city, where he was told that there was a unofficially Vol-friendly tavern run by elves.

Little did he know, that in the Callestan district lived one of the most renowned bounty hunters of Sharn, who was currently drinking a pint in the same tavern he choose to spend the night in.

Kakuzu the bounty hunter

Kakuzu was born in the port city of Zarash’ak, in The Shaodw Marshes.

His father was a human from House Vadalis (beast tamers), while his mother was a human with a quarter of orc blood from House Tharashk with the Mark of Finding (bounty hunters).

He was raised within the Tharashk House and learned how to bounty hunt from a young age. Even though his training was focused on the ways of his mother’s House, he enjoyed spending time with his father and help him train and sell his imported beasts from the Eldeen Reaches.

Kakuzu spent his childhood proudly working for House Tharashk, dreaming of becoming a renowned bounty hunter and awakening a powerful Mark of Finding. However, his dreams would sunk when at the age of seventeen he finally manifested his dragonmark. 

It was an aberrant dragonmark.

The dragonmarks are passed through bloodlines and when two members of different dragonmarked families reproduce it often results in aberrant dragonmarks. Originally aberrant marked were seen as outcasts and outsiders, often shunned by the houses and eked out a pitiful existence. Now they unite under their own House, House Tarkanan.

Kakuzu tried to hide his new mark, constantly covering his body as much as he could and not getting intimately close to anyone for fear of being discovered and casted aside. His mood soured in a couple of months, and he ostracised himself from his closest friends and family.

But after a couple of years it had grown up so much that it almost took his entire back, and inevitably the House found out about his condition and expelled him from the clan.

Abandoned by his people, he traveled to Sharn in an attempt to join the Aberrant Dragonmarked House Tarkanan.

House Tarkanan is a house only formed by aberrant markeds, from any race and clan. They are usually bounty hunters, mercenaries and accountants.

When House Tarkanan first established itself in Sharn, the halfling Boromar Clan attempted to assimilate them, but the offer was turned down. This resulted in the Boromars attempting to destroy the House. When this proved too difficult a deal was struck. Since the Boromar clan doesn't traffic in assassinations, it was agreed that so long as House Tarkanan doesn't take contracts against the Boromars, they would be permitted to stay in Sharn without paying a fee.

Despite being shunned away by his family and now working as a bounty hunter for a bunch of criminals, Kakuzu found his place in Sharn. He also worked as an accountant for the clan from time to time, a nice changes of winds from his usual, dirtier, business.

He made himself a name in Sharn, and over the years was granted the title of Baron, as a senior assassin of the Clan. Kakuzu was well known in the city, especially in the districts of Lower Dura. 

He established his residence in the lawless district of Callestan mainly because the rent was cheaper, but also because his best informants also maraud those streets, inns and ateliers.

Kakuzu is a baron of House Tarkanan, and his main income comes from the clan’s dealings. However, he takes freelance work if the pay is good enough, and he usually doubles his fees if the contract is from his former House.

House Tharashk, despite expelling Kakuzu many years ago, is often interested in hiring his services in the big city, since bounty hunters that are not from House Tarkanan or the Boromar Clan are not allowed to make business freely even after paying a bountiful fee.

House Tharashk has deals and a close relationship with House Thuranni. The elven house team with them whenever they need to find artifacts or people, in exchange for influences and intel. They are currently working together with the Emerald Claw in Stormreach (Xen’dirk), seeking ancient artifacts for Lady Vol. 

House Thuranni is involved in many dubious affairs and unofficially allied with many organisations, such as the Blood of Vol and the Emerald Claw. The Thuranni fought alongside Karrnath during the War, and they have an important presence in Atur with their True Shapers academy.

These unofficial affairs turn every Thuranni establishment into a safehouse for those allies who need refuge or a meeting point.

So Kakuzu visits The Shadowkeeper tavern whenever the Tharashk need something from him, to catch up with his informants, or just to drink a large pint.

...though cashing in a good bounty for a dumb Seeker, is also interesting.

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

We have 6 out of 8 members of the party!! yeyyy!!! now i need to finish the other two ;)

[colonel-insomniac]

Wait

@my-blood-is-maple-syrup @pawsomelybuggy ive done it again, don’t be mad at me though :D. potential sorry in advance for what im about to do. OH listen to  this playlist but only if you want 

After landing on earth, Kai and Pon were instantaneously dazzled by the dizzying brightness. It was such a stark difference to the darkness of Azurelle that for a moment, everything seemed perfectly balanced, like a piece of glass saved from teetering off the edge of a table. 

But of course, as is the case, glass fragments and shatters. Ezra fell to the dirt, gasping for air, though he couldn’t be choking, because he wasn’t eating anything. He wrapped his hands around his neck, trying to convey his need for help. Kai didn’t realize at first, his mind dark and empty in response to the dazzling light, blinded by the beauty of it all. 

He turned his head at the continued sound of coughing, dropping to his knees when the situation registered. Pon had been kneeling by Ezra’s side, trying to help the boy, and Kai checked for breath exiting Ezra’s body, trying to narrow down what might be happening as he tried to push the rising panic and fear down, if only for Ezra’s sake. Unfortunately, no air was entering or exiting from Ezra, and Kai looked at Pon, frozen with horror. With Ezra rapidly turning a pale blue-purple shade, Pon began attempting to physically insert air into the other boy’s body through mouth-to-mouth resuscitation methods. 

Kai thinks it works for a bit, but doesn’t know how to contact emergency services. Does Earth have emergency services? 

Abandoning all care, he pats down Ezra in case he happens to have a phone on him, and thankfully finds one, which he flashes to Ezra, who grabs his hand and traces the following numbers: nine, one, and one. Kai dials and is bombarded with questions that he does his best to answer, eventually giving up when they ask for his location, opting to ask if they can instead trace the call, as he isn’t too sure of where he is at the moment. 

The lady on the other end of the line asks for him to stay on the line, and after a couple minutes tells him an ambulance, police officer, and fire truck being sent over. Kai pleads with them to hurry, unable to hide the fear in his voice anymore.

It seems they’re too late, though. By the time the medics arrive, Pon has reported the worst news that Kai thinks he could ever hear. There’s no breath, no pulse. 

Kai felt that his own breath and pulse were completely gone, his world shattered. It feels like it doesn’t matter whether he were on Azurelle or on Earth. What was the point of life if your lover was dead, taken by some unknown force? He found himself unable to convey the overwhelming sorrow, eyes dry and mouth glued shut. 

Kai watched as the medics loaded Ezra into an ambulance and had to be dragged by Pon to said vehicle. He felt stuck, like he would forever be rooted to this very spot, his heart shattered.

But later, it seems all is not necessarily lost, because somehow the doctor’s are able to locate the faintest of heartbeats with their fancy medical technology, and Kai desperately holds on to that sliver of hope. They are not allowed to visit Ezra, his condition to unstable and unique that they must put him in an intensive care unit to closely monitor him. Without any reason to be there, Pon throws an arm around Kai in nearly matched misery, and guides a still numb Kai out of said care facility, despite a nurse calling attention to Kai’s various wounds. 

He genuinely had forgotten about that, had been too consumed that his brain allowed him to bypass the cruel pain that was gradually settling back into his bones. Kai thought of both nothing and everything, his mind searching for answers, because something told him that Ezra wasn’t choking because of some typical medical thing. All he could think of was what if they had done something wrong, and Ezra was still somehow tethered to Azurelle? What if this was the Azurellian government metaphorically pulling the leash, reminding Pon and Kai that they won’t ever escape, not when they have this venomous grip on Ezra. 

The pair slowly make their way back to the spot they had landed on, now filled with memories of horrific events that had just taken place. Looking off into the distance, Kai can just barely make out a trail, for some reason, before the war, Ezra had wandered off the beaten path and ventured into raw nature instead. 

There had to be something poetic about that, but Kai’s mind didn’t have the capacity to consider that at the moment, still could barely form a coherent thought. The pair make their way back to the path, and looked both ways. One side led further into the forest, further into a mystery promising adventure, and the other back to society. They go back to society, not willing to embark on another journey after the hurt had still been so fresh. 

Kai kept a firm hold on Pon’s hand the whole time, fearing that the moment he let go, his best friend would disappear too. As they approach the cross section between nature and society, a couple that looks oddly familiar run up to the two boys. 

The woman, her voice watery asks if either of them have seen a boy “...named Ezra Watts.” A thousand memories flash in Kai’s mind in less than a second. “It’s hard to explain,” The man adds, “but he was supposed to be back today and we aren’t sure what’s happening.” Kai looks wide and watery eyed at Pon, who thinks for a moment, not sure how to order his words. 

“This is going to seem crazy, but we know your son. The rest would be easier if we were away from prying eyes and ears.” The man who Kai now assumes to be Ezra’s father nods, and wraps an arm around his wife, gesturing for Kai and Pon to follow.

They have a nice house. That’s all Kai can get through his brain, which is a slight improvement, tracing patterns on the couch he’s currently sitting on. He lets Pon do most of the explaining, but can’t miss the curious glances at him. 

“...from Azurelle,” He picks up on the spark of fear at the name of their home planet. “I’m Pon, and this is Kai. We managed to escape, but only thanks to the kindness of your son. He saw something in us that convinced him to help us out. If he hadn’t, execution is what we would have faced.” Pon places his hands in his lap, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. 

They nod, but look over to Kai, because the look of distraught that has been etched onto his face is a tad bit more concerning to them. Something more is going on there and he knows they know. Pon places a hand on Kai’s shoulder, “Kai and your son, they—well, that is to say that they mutually appreciate each other in the way that you guys do.” Pon then nods, happy with being able to dance around outright saying it, and despite his negative emotions, Kai can’t help snorting at his friend’s ridiculousness. 

Ezra’s mom blankly regards Kai, before nodding and smiling at him, and Kai can feel the heat rise in his cheeks. With a shaky breath, Kai opens his mouth, knowing that if he loves Ezra, he has to say something. “When we arrived here, your son began choking, we don’t know exactly why that happened, but we managed to get hiim to a hospital, and they put him in this thing called an intensive care unit. They found he was still alive so they’re monitoring him right now.” Kai inspects his hands, eyes stinging. 

The mom nods, standing and offering a hand that Kai takes. The dad gestures for Pon to follow, and remains seated himself, face sad and staring out a window into a sunny lawn. She opens a door, leading to a bedroom that’s decorated with foreign posters and objects. Kai realizes at once that this has to be Ezra’s room, and presses his hands to his face. Ezra’s mom tells them to take as long as they need before backing out and leaving them. Kai glances around the room, landing on the bed, with a blanket patterned with some sports ball. 

There’s a childlike air to his room, a messiness that comes from never resting and being in a rush. There’s a small squeak, and Kai finds Pon opening Ezra’s closet doors, peering at the different items stored within. He hesitantly walks over, fingers catching on a soft cotton material. He pulls it off its hanger and finds it to be a hoodie. He glances at Pon, cheeks burning when Pon smiles and nods, sliding the garment on. 

At once, he’s overwhelmed with the scent of Ezra, and he stumbles over to the bed, head in his hands and just cries. All this buildup, but it feels so good to let it all out, and Kai knows he needs to let himself just feel this pain and anger and sorrow. Pon sits beside him and hugs Kai, doesn’t move until Kai wipes his eyes and hugs his friend back. 

When he’s ready, they leave the room, Kai still wearing Ezra’s hoodie, and join Ezra’s parents, who don’t comment on the apparel change or his puffy eyes. They do, however, express a desire to see their son, even through glass windows, so they pile up in a car and drive around until Pon points out the building they had gone to. 

The doctor’s deliver a grim prognosis: there’s hope for Ezra, but due to the amount of time without oxygen, he’s in a coma. They aren’t too sure when—or if —he’ll wake up, or what his brain activity would look like. 

Exhausted and out of tears, Kai puts a shaky hand on the window, the cool glass serving as the barrier between them. Ezra’s mom cries quietly, turned with her face pressed into her husband’s shoulder. Pon’s quiet, as he typically is during times of grief and sorrow, and with his other hand, Kai grabs a hold of Pon’s hand. 

A month goes by, and Ezra still hasn’t woken, doctor’s determined to not give up on him. Kai visits every day, walking to the hospital on his own sometimes, and always asks for any updates from the doctor’s. They’ve begun to give him cookies when he visits, silently fearing that he isn’t eating. Which he is, but his appetite isn’t really there. 

But soon after that one month mark, Ezra has stabilized enough to be let out of the ICU, where they let Kai in to visit him. After a while the receptionist stops asking for information and lets him find his way to Ezra, for which he’s grateful. When he’s alone in the room with Ezra, he can almost pretend the wires aren’t there and their in a home all their own, with Pon, of course. 

And he just talks. About anything and everything. He discusses his found love for classical music, specifically a composer named Bach, he talks about the weather, he tells him how much he misses Ezra, how much he wishes that Ezra were awake so he could say all the things he didn’t realize he should have said back on Azurelle. 

Another two months pass, with Kai still visiting, Ezra still improving but not responsive. He still talks, or sits in silence, holding Ezra’s hand, sometimes places it against his cheek to feel the miniscule warmth. Today he just sits, nervous for some reason, his fingers at first fussing with the hem of his own shirt before moving to frantically comb through Ezra’s hair in an attempt to comb through it. It’s gotten longer than it had been when he first arrived on Azurelle, and something tells Kai that Ezra wouldn’t like it like that. Not that it’s extremely long or anything, but it’s something that he just feels within his heart of hearts. 

He misses the furrowing of Ezra’s brows, overtaken by an urge to do something. But when Ezra moves his head, Kai freezes, his eyes widening as he looks down at Ezra’s face. He holds his breath, heart beating frantically with hope. And then Ezra opens his eyes, looking slightly confused before turning his gaze to look at Kai, who’s pressing the button he was told to push if—when— Ezra woke up. Two nurses walk in, and after a minute of poking, prodding, and taking notes, they finally begin to remove the breathing tube. Ezra never takes his eyes off Kai, swimming with an unreadable emotion. He briefly looks away when the nurses ask him questions to assess any brain damage, but shortly after, the nurses leave, reminding the two boys they’re just outside, one of them intending to let Ezra’s parents—and by proxy, Pon— know. 

Ezra slides his gaze back to Kai, squinting as though he were thinking hard about something. After a moment, he whispers “Kai?” 

The shorter boy nods, and throws his arms around Ezra, sobbing with relief. Ezra pats his back, returning the embrace. “What happened?” He asks after a moment. Kai pulls away but doesn’t let go of Ezra. 

“When we got to Earth, you began to...choke, and we couldn’t figure out why or how to help, and you lost consciousness. I thought— you... it’s been three months and I’ve been so scared.” Ezra looks away, something like fear floating in his eyes. But he shakes his head and when he looks back to Kai, any sign of that is gone. 

“So, Bach? Not a Mozart fan?” Kai’s mouth falls open, and he’s not sure what Ezra’s getting at, at first. 

Then everything clicks when Ezra laughs at Kai’s stunned face. “Are you seriously talking to me about music right now?” Ezra shrugs in response. 

Kai can’t help feeling overwhelmed, so he blames what happens next solely on that. He places his hands one either side of Ezra’s face and closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to Ezra’s. His stomach churns in fear of being rejected, but then Ezra pushes back slightly, and Kai relaxes, his hands still on Ezra’s cheeks. 

When they pull away, Ezra’s quiet for a moment, looking closely at Kai’s red face. “Honestly,” he begins, “I have been wanting that to happen for a while now.” And Kai snorts, resisting the urge to be sarcastic. 

Not knowing when to stop, Ezra adds “Who knew it took me almost dying for that to happen.” And abandoning his morals, Kai slaps his arm, not lightly, but not hard.

“You need to shut up.” Is all he responds with, grabbing Ezra’s hand, placing it on his cheek. Outside, the sun glows golden, as though she is positively pleased, and Kai has to agree with her. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

kiss me in the d-a-r-k .epilogue vi. finale

the day of

Warnings: non/dub con sex (intercourse, oral)

This is dark!(dad)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Things are laid out for the reader.

Note: So this is the last part of the epilogue. I’m not gonna promise a sequel but I will leave the possibility open in the future. Maybe we’ll see our reader again somewhere down the road. But to all those who have read and supported this series, thank you. I appreciate you and I love you. You guys don’t realize how much you mean. I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think in a reblog or like (feel free to leave your thoughts in a reply if you don’t wanna reblog)!

...

On Wednesday, you sat your midterm in the morning and if it wasn’t for your still tender ass, it would’ve been perfect. You walked out confident. You were one of the first to finish and that allotted you a whole hour and a half between the exam and your next class. 

You took out your phone, on airplane mode for the test, and flipped it back into service. Several messages littered your inbox, all from one man. Steve texted last night after your meeting with Bucky but hadn’t shown up to your relief. For once, his business kept him from you. 

You scrolled through the bubbles: ‘good luck, sweetie,’ ‘call me when your done’, etc. His impatience was obvious even though he’d known you wouldn’t see til now. You headed for the cafe below the library and ordered your usual before you hit call.

You sat in the corner as the steam rose from the paper cup and the other end picked up almost immediately. “Uh, hey,” You turned and looked out the window onto campus. The trees were barren and the leaves dried and dying. The city’s first snow was imminent.

“Hey, sweetie,” You could hear him moving around as he spoke. “How was the exam?”

“Good, good,” You bent a leg over the other and sat nervously on the edge of your chair. “I think, at least.”

“Great. You got classes too?” He asked and you rubbed your chin. Should you mention Bucky and the evening appointment. Let him know that you’d been sussed out.

“Till five,” You answered and pushed back your dread. “Mostly review. The rest of my midterms are next week.”

“Well, you got early classes tomorrow?” He prodded. 

“Why do you ask?” You glanced around and blew over the top of your cup.

“Why do you think?” You could hear his smirk. “I’ve got dinner with Kylie tonight. Should be done by eight. I thought maybe you’d wanna meet up after.”

“Oh…” You tapped your fingers on the side of the cup. “I don’t know…” It felt wrong, sneaking in after a visit from his daughter; your friend. “Maybe I should just have a quiet night in.”

“It’s your call but I leave Friday morning. It might be our last chance.” He sounded disappointed despite his nonchalant words.

“Hmm,” You thought and silence buzzed on the line. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“When you leave, is this all...over?” You had to force the last word out. It didn’t want to rise though you knew it needed to.

He laughed softly. It was comforting, not mocking. “Sweetie, we’ll talk about all that tonight. So, how about I pick you up at nine?”

You sat back and swung your leg nervously. “Okay, nine,” You acquiesced. 

“See ya then, sweetie,” He replied smugly. “Oh, one more thing.”

“Yeah?” Your heart fluttered. You wondered for a moment if Bucky had confronted him too. You braced the table and held your breath.

“Check your mailbox.” He said. “And wear something nice.”

“O-okay,” You stuttered as you exhaled, your chest ready to burst. “I’ll see you at nine.”

The line clicked and you set your phone face down beside your coffee. You sat back and crossed your arms. This was all getting very complicated. And messy.

-

Your classes passed slowly. You scribbled down the notes for your review and tried not to let your mind wander. As you walked across campus and headed for the subway, your phone vibrated. You huffed and pulled it out as you walked blindly by the buildings.

‘You free tonight, girl. Party at 10.’ Kylie’s message blinked at you. You stopped and once more a storm of nerves swept over you. Your finger hovered over the screen as you tried to muster your latest lie. ‘Sorry. Studying tonight. Maybe this weekend.’ Her response was quick; terse. ‘Boo’.

As you stood in the middle of campus, the last few days mounted on your shoulders. What were you doing? You were sneaking around like some character on an HBO serial. You should’ve been on your way home to study and not to wait around for you illicit lover. Or thinking about the night you’d just spent with your professor.

You broke from your shameful trance and rushed past the other students. You didn’t want to wait around for the third train of the hour. You reached the platform just as the train was ready to close its doors. You clung to the bar as it sped along the tunnels and counted the stops. 

You had more than enough time to eat before your little rendezvous. Your building was grim as you walked up to it. You almost forgot to stop at your mailbox as you entered and you found a small black box inside. You took it and the monthly university newsletter and head up to your bachelor.

You shoved a thin crust in the oven and sat on your bed as you streamed to your small television. You waited for the timer to tick down and opened the small black box. You rolled your eyes as you pulled out the folded lace. Sheer white with floral embroidery; it offered little cover, if any. The panties were high-waisted and the bra thinly strapped. Steve had more than just another meet-up in mind.

You texted him as you ate your pizza. ‘Really?’ He replied with a winky emoji and nothing else. You finished your dinner, washed your face and freshened your hair. You wore a simple. long-sleeved dress over the lingerie; a blush coloured sheath you still had the tags on. Your legs would be cold but you didn’t expect to be outside much.

As time wore on, your anxiety piqued. You paced in your wedged boots. Second thoughts and eager expectations mingled into a maelstrom inside of you. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand and you unplugged it as the clock read 9:07. The singular text greeted you. ‘Here.’

You took a breath and grabbed your plain black coat and buttoned it up to your chin. Your purse hung from your elbow as you locked the door behind you and tripped down the stairs two at a time. You nearly fell on your face as you emerged onto the crooked walkway and Steve’s rover loomed along the curb.

You opened the door and slipped inside. “Hey,” You said breathily as you buckled up. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. When you were strapped in he grabbed your chin and pressed his lips to yours. He was eager.

“Hey,” He pulled away and looked out on the street. “You look nice, sweetie.”

You smiled and thanked him quietly as he pulled out. 

“Did you eat?” He asked as he stared at the road.

“Yes, I did, dad,” You said mockingly but your voice cracked and died in a deathly silence. 

He stopped at a sign and looked over at you. You shyly glanced over and he smiled the moment your eyes met. “I’d prefer daddy, but whatever you like, sweetie.” Your cheeks burned as he chuckled and you played nervously with a button on your coat.

“I didn’t mean too…” You muttered.

“It was funny.” He assured you as he turned his attention back to driving. “Cute.”

You nodded and kept quiet, afraid of another slip. Freud would be all too excited to be a passenger on this ride. You tilted your head as he turned away from downtown; away from his hotel.

“Where are we going?” You asked meekly.

“It’s a surprise,” He said coyly. “Are you wearing it?”

“Y-yes.” You crossed your arms and kept track of each turn in your head.

When he stopped, you looked up at the high-rise and blinked in confusion. Your apartment was little more than a closet compared to the penthouses housed in this upscale building. You still had no idea what was going on. 

Steve got out and came around to open your door as you gaped. Your heels wobbled beneath you as you stepped out and he typed on his phone with one hand as he offered you his other. He tucked his phone away and led you up the broad steps of the building and past the tall fountain that crested the lawn.

“Steve...?” Your eyes lit up as you took in the extravagance. Well, compared to your digs.

“I told you, it’s a surprise, sweetie.” He let go of your hand and opened the front door for you. 

He was past you in an instant and rang the buzzer with the touch pad. Only a long buzz sounded in response and he opened the next door. You were fidgety in the elevator. The ascent was silent as you peeked over at Steve several times. Only a knowing smirk in response; devious.

As the doors opened, you stepped out into the single floor penthouse. The dark hardwood floors were pristine and polished and the large living room was bookmarked between a tall brick fireplace and a set of glass shelves decorated with degrees, awards, and a menagerie of ornaments.

You stopped as Steve closed the elevator lock up behind you. You turned back to him and shook your head in confusion. He neared and framed your face with his hands as he leaned in to kiss you. 

“Be good, sweetie.” He kissed you again and stood straight. He smiled over your head and you sensed another.

“Why don’t you take off your coats and settle in?” Bucky asked and his blue eyes flicked towards you. “You want anything from the bar?”

You looked between them. Your heartbeat had doubled and you felt light headed. “What’s going on?”

“We talked,” He said cryptically. “It’s all good, sweetie.”

He unbuttoned your coat for you as you stared at him dumbly. He slipped it down your arms and you snapped out of your trance. You watched him hang your coat next to his and turned back to the room. Bucky was behind the bar with three glasses set out.

“So, what’s it gonna be? Gin, scotch, I’ve got some wine.” He offered.

“I…” Steve nudged you and you edge into the living room. Steve passed you and sat on the chaise, his hand patted the space beside him. “Gin and ice is fine, thank you.”

You sat beside Steve and clasped your hands together. You wondered if alcohol was a wise decision but it would help with your nerves. Your mind began to run wild with possibilities. Whatever they had planned couldn’t just be talking.

Steve’s hand went to your lower back as Bucky neared with the glasses. He handed you one and Steve another, and sat with his own on the other side of you. You were trapped between the two men on the chaise. You gulped down half the drink and crossed your legs.

“Slow down, baby, it’s gonna be a long night,” Bucky grinned and sipped from his own glass. “Did you talk to her?”

“I figured there wasn’t much to say,” Steve shrugged. “You want both of us, don’t you, sweetie?”

Your eyes threatened to pop out of your head as you glanced between them. You drained the last of your gin and bent over to set it on the table. “Uh, yeah, I…” You blinked and focused on the ice, “Well, I mean...I…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow.” Steve assured you. “We just wanna get this all sorted out before I leave. When I’m gone, Bucky will look after you.”

Bucky placed his glass beside yours, the dark alcohol barely touched. His hand went to your thigh and Steve rubbed your back soothingly. You were tempted to drink Bucky’s whiskey for him. Steve took another swig and added a third tumbler to the table. He grabbed your other thigh and both men squeezed as they leaned closer.

“Why don’t you show Bucky your little surprise?” Steve purred.

You tilted your head, confused at first, and Steve’s fingers ran up your back. The lingerie. You nodded and stood, glad to be free of their touch. You looked down at your body and slowly turned to face them. You bent to unzip your scuffed wedges and stepped out of them. Your dress felt thinner as you lifted your eyes to them. Steve nodded for you to go on.

You reached back and tugged down your zipper. As the dress loosened you paused and both men watched eagerly. What were you doing? Six months ago, you were a reticent virgin and now you were in some sordid ritual with these two men. 

The heat of their gaze nipped at your doubts and you pulled the zipper down entirely. You let the sleeves fall down your arms and the swish of the skirts as the dress fell to your feet was your white flag. It was done. There was no turning back.

You dared to look at them. Steve grinned and Bucky’s brows shot up. They both shifted on the chaise and you kept your hands to your sides, nervously waiting for the next move.

“It’s all you,” Steve intoned as he stood. He brushed past you, his hand tickled your thigh and he pinched your ass. You watched as he crossed the room and sat on the couch opposite. He sank into the cushion and draped his arm along the back. “Take your time.”

Bucky’s hand on yours drew you back to him. He pulled you closer until you stood between his knees. You looked down at him as his hands explored your body. He cupped your tits through the sheer fabric, your nipples hardened against his palm. He tickled along your waist and hips and snaked around to squeeze your ass.

“Sit down,” He nodded beside him.

You did as he said without thinking. He turned to you and brought his hand up behind your neck. He kissed you forcefully and pushed his hand between your thighs. You opened your mouth to his as he devoured you and tucked your fingers beneath his belt. He groaned as you clung to the top of his pants.

He pulled your legs apart and dragged his fingers along the crotch of your pants. You moaned and he slid his fingers beneath the fabric. He pushed between your folds and circled your clit. You parted and gasped at the sudden tingle.

He slipped from the chaise and to his knees. He came up between your legs and continued to play with you. He hooked his fingers under the panties and pulled them aside as he replaced his hand with his mouth. You were entranced by the sight of him knelt before you. His dark hair was streaked with silver but thick. You leaned back on your hands as he teased you with his tongue.

Your eyes were drawn to the other side of the room. Steve hadn’t moved. His eyes sparkled as he watched intently. You closed your eyes and let your head fall back as you sank into Bucky. He licked and suckled as his hand crawled along your thigh. He traced around your entrance and shoved two fingers inside. Your legs tensed and your nails dug into the cushion.

He curled his fingers and you moaned louder. His tongue never stopped as he started to move his hand. The last of your insecurity disappeared and you could think of was the whirlwind of nerves spiraling around your core. You latched onto the back of Bucky’s head and pushed him deeper as you beckoned your climax closer. He hummed as his tongue lured you onward until you were shaking and sputtering in unyielding ecstasy.

He didn't stop until you were out of breath and mewling. He lifted his head and let your panties go. "Lay down, baby."

You pulled your legs up and spread out on the chaise as you came down from your high. Bucky stood and undressed as his eyes roved your body. He was thicker than Steve, his stomach not as toned but still in good shape. You realized you'd never seen him naked despite your lurid meetings.

He climbed up with you, again between your legs. He grabbed your legs and pulled them up to rest against his chest. Next he gripped you hips and dragged you down the chaise. His tip pressed against you and slipped between your folds.

He entered you and let out a long breath. You whined as he bottomed out. A flood of relief flowed through you and you reached back to claw the end of the chaise.

As he began to thrust, the chaise groaned and world seemed to quake beneath you. Each time he rocked his hips, he sped up just a little; faster, deeper. Your moans kept time with him and your voice rose in a symphony.

Your eyes rolled back and Bucky held your ankles against his shoulders as he hammered into you. Your back arched and you growled like an animal in heat. Your voice, his, the sound of your flesh together, drove you wild and bloomed in a paralysing orgasm.

Bucky's hand slipped down to your thighs and pushed your legs higher. He pounded into you and grunted louder and louder as he neared his peak. You egged him on as you reached around your hip to touch his thigh. 

He let go of your legs and pinned your hands beside your head as he raised himself on his knees. He fucked you harder as he held you to the plush cushion and you whimpered as another explosion shook your core. 

He sank into you with drawn out thrusts and snarled. He pulled out and released your wrists. His cum shot out along your pelvis and along your pussy. He spread it between your folds with his cock and leaned back on his heels. Satisfied.

"Bring her over here," Steve's voice scared you. You'd forgotten he was there. 

Bucky, panting and sweaty, took your hand and pulled you off the chaise. You followed him blindly, your head in a spin. Steve stood too, as methodical in undressing as Bucky. He smirked as Bucky sat you down and you slumped onto your side.

Bucky backed away as Steve lowered himself onto the couch. He pulled your leg up as he slid between you and the back of the couch. He hooked his thick arm under you and draped your leg over his. He played with your thrumming clit before he lined himself up with your entrance.

He impaled you slowly. He breath whisked across your cheek and he continued to play with your bud as he moved inside you. 

"She was a virgin, you know that?" He said to Bucky as he rocked his hips. "When we met. She's still tight, isn't she?" He nibbled your ear and growled as Bucky's shadow loomed in your peripheral.

"A quick learner," Bucky remarked. 

You barely heard their little aside. You were too bound up in this bliss to care. That voice in the back of your head was smothered by that louder one which had taken over of late. 

Who cared if they were using you, you were using them too. You enjoyed it just as much and why shouldn't you? Sex was sex and you were only human.

You lifted your head as Bucky neared and sat on the other end of the couch. He shifted so that your head was in his lap as Steve continued to fuck you. He turned your head and forced your mouth around his cock. He was still a little soft but quickly stiffened as you began to bob your head.

You found it harder to keep your mouth working as Steve's fingers and cock stoked your core. Bucky held the back of your neck to keep you from pulling away. You hummed around his cock and squeaked as you came in a series of twitches.

Steve turned you onto your stomach as Bucky stayed in your mouth. Steve pinned your legs with his thighs as he pounded into you and the cushions bounced under you. Their grunts were deep and rhythmic. Hypnotic, even.

"Ah, fuck, sweetie, I'm gonna cum," Steve growled. "Shit." 

He slammed into you one last time before he pulled out. He came on your pussy and added to the mess you'd become. Bucky didn't stop, didn't waver as he guided your mouth up and down his length. You pushed yourself up just a little and tended to him fervently.

"Shit," Bucky swore and caressed the top of your head. "I'm gonna cum all over your face, baby. Come on."

He tugged on your hair and you removed your mouth with a pop. You stroked him with your hand and his cum spurted out along your lips and cheeks and dribbled down your chin.

You let go, out of breath, and Steve pulled you up by your arm and let you pant against the couch. You were shaky, numb but oversensitive, your vision hazy and yet vivid. You tasted Bucky's salty cum and your fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slickness there.

"Do you understand, sweetie?" Steve spoke softly as he pushed your hair back and kissed your temple. "When I leave, Bucky will take care of everything you need. Can you be a good girl for him?"

You nodded dully and your eyes lolled over to look at Bucky as he leaned back and sighed. Steve's hand fell, traced the line of your collar bone, cupped your tit, and walked along your stomach to the top of your vee.

"You want another drink, sweetie?" He coaxed. "A little break?"

You blinked and licked your lips, the cool cum was sticky. You placed your hand on Steve's and pushed it between your legs. "I don't need a break."

[mylifewithhurley]

My Life with Hurley Story

My Hidradenitis Suppurativa Story

l believe the best way to start is with a description of the disease - and this is my description of the disease, based mostly on my experiences, but also drawing from the hundreds of medical articles, forums, and discussions I've had the pleasure of reading over the past decade in my attempts to understand and manage my disease better. Hidradenitis Suppurativa (HS) is a chronic skin disease, in which pus and blood-filled abscesses form under the skin in the groin area, inner thighs, armpits and under the breasts. These abscesses can range from the size of a pea to as large as baseballs. They grow in size until they are close enough to the surface of the skin, and may break open. When they do, they either do not heal at all, or take a very long time to heal... I'm talking years. As open wounds, they constantly leak blood and pus. There is nothing more horrid than the smell of an HS wound, trust me. They are extremely painful, if you can imagine. Large abscesses can often restrict your ability to move your arms, if they are located in the armpit, or restrict your ability to walk and make it vert uncomfortable to sit, if they are in the groin or inner thigh area. With all that being said, you can imagine the shame and embarrassment such a condition can bring to a person. An individual with this disease can be extremely self-conscious and depression is very likely as well. There are some points I'd like to stress before I move on to my personal experience with the disease.

HS is NOT contagious. It is NOT the individuals fault. No one knows why this happens. HS has NOTHING to do with a person's hygiene. HS has NO cure!

IN THE BEGINNING...

My HS started out as small pus-filled bumps on my groin when I was around 15 years old. These were easily popped open and were not painful. They would come and go. They were a nuisance, but were not totally alarming. I did not know I had a "disease" at this time. I did not seek medical care. I was about 20 when bumps started appearing around my breasts. These were larger and had to grow a few days before I was physically able to squeeze them out. The pus was generally very dry, like something that would come out of a pimple on your face. It would quickly shoot out and splatter onto the mirror or whatever I was in front of. I mention this only to illustrate the change in consistency of the pus over time. They would heal, but always come back. Same spot, same size. Seeking help was difficult. I didn't want anyone to see. I can remember going to a walk-in doctor who prescribed a topical cream to rub on them. That didn't help. Eventually, the pain was too much to bare and I was forced to go to the emergency room. I went in the middle of the night. I had an abscess about the size of a quarter on my chest, between my breasts. It was so painful, I couldn't sleep. I had my first I&D (incision & drainage) that night with a very nice doctor. After he had cut it, he told me a nurse would come in to "pack" the wound and that I would be set up with home care. I didn't know what "packing" meant at that time, so when the nurse came in and simply covered the wound with gauze and tape, I thought I was good to go. That specific wound came and went over the years but it would easily break open after a week or so, and the pus and blood would pour out, like syrup, messing up my bra and clothes.

I went to a walk-in maybe a year or so later who I could tell really sympathized with me, but truly didn't know what to do. She referred me to a dermatologist. I waited months to see her. When I finally did, she was cold towards me. I didn't feel like she cared as she told me there was no point in treating this externally (I was hoping she would cut one or two open to give me some relief). She told me the only way to get rid of this was to do it from the inside. She prescribed me some pills (probably an antibiotic). I asked her if it had worked for others, and she nodded yes and she scooted me out. The pills she prescribed did wonders for the acne on my face but absolutely nothing for my HS. I was told to come back and see her in three months, but I never did. She didn't care enough.

For a long time, I just waited for the lesions to grow large and break open on their own. There's one that I actually tried opening with a needle (DO NOT DO THIS), and of course I just made it worse and probably make it stick around a lot longer than it would have had I just gone to a doctor. I had started working full time when I began getting abscesses on my upper leg, extremely close to my groin and bottom. This was extremely painful. I had to find creative ways to sit on my chair without drawing too much attention to myself. There were many days I wouldn't even sit. I would just do type on the computer standing up, pretending like I was only checking something out on the computer and would have to leave in a second to do something else. The days in which I did sit, I learned I needed to sit on my jacket or sweater, in order to not stain the chair with the drainage coming out of my open wounds, seeping through my pants and onto the furniture. I often walked funny, trying to avoid feeling the wounds rubbing against my pants. If anyone asked why, I just told them I had a problem in my leg.

It was a Sunday night when I decided I needed to see a doctor to drain one lesion on my inner buttocks. My mother took me to the emergency room. When the doctor had seen how large the abscess was, and the others that surrounded it, he called for a surgeon to come and take a look. The surgeon told me that I needed surgery, but because I had eaten dinner that night, and she and her team had already had a long day, I agreed to come back in on Wednesday for surgery. On that day, while the surgeon was briefing me on the surgery, I asked her if she didn't mind also draining a lesion under my arm. When I showed it to her, she couldn't refuse. When I awoke from surgery, she mentioned that she had arranged for a Infectious Disease doctor in the morning and also told me that I may want to consider plastic surgery, a suggestion I wish I had taken at that time. I was released from the hospital the following day and set up with home health care.

The Infectious Disease doctor examined me and prescribed me two antibiotics to take over a period of three months. Whether theses helped my case or not, I'm not sure. It's possible I could have been worse off if I hadn't taken them, but I wasn't getting better. I went on living my life just waiting for my abscesses to open and draining them myself - or going to the emergency room if I thought it was getting too large with no signs that it was going to resolve on its own. Going to the ER always meant that I was going to be set up with home health care, or what they call CCAC (Community Care Access Centre). Nurses could either come to your home to change your dressings and check on the progress of your wound, or, as they preferred, you could go into a near-by clinic every day or every other day for the same service. This may be common knowledge, but there are great nurses, and there are terrible nurses. I could write a book about my bad experiences with CCAC, but I won't elaborate. The point is, more often than not, CCAC nurses made my life more difficult than pleasant. 

DERMATOLOGY

My sister had told me about a dermatologist that would see patients without a referral. This sounded great to me because having to explain to doctor after doctor (or anyone, for that matter) about your disease and the things you've already tried to manage it is exhausting. I called and made myself an appointment for a few months later. When I met with Dr. A, I felt like he sympathized me and I had hope. He knew my disease. He had patients with my disease. He had touched my wounds and wiped away pus. He sampled the pus for testing. These are things the first dermatologist I had seen never did. He had a son who worked in clinical trials and had just finished a study on my disease with an expensive treatment called Humira. He called his son right there in the patient room to ask him if he knew of any upcoming studies so that I could possibly get medication for free, but unfortunately the answer was no. He had also treated patients with HS with Accutane, but this too was expensive. With the knowledge that I didn't have any drug coverage, Dr. A prescribed me two strong antibiotics to take over a course of three months. Those antibiotics did help some. When I revisited Dr. A after the three months had passed, he prescribed me another run of the antibiotics.

HS controls my life in every way. There's not a moment I'm not thinking about it. There's not a minute I am not uncomfortable or not in pain. There is not a decision I make without considering my disease. I have to think about my HS before doing the smallest tasks. There are times I put off going to the bathroom just because getting up, changing positions, can cause so much pain and discomfort, and I'm literally mentally preparing myself for what I'm about to experience. Needless to say, there are many activities I just cannot participate in. Simply getting into the car can be difficult. I dread going shopping - too much walking, which means wounds rubbing against my clothes. I'm often caught off guard when someone asks me why I'm walking funny, or holding my arm awkwardly, because I think I'm hiding it so well. HS also controls what I can wear. As much as I love form-fitting clothes, its just not comfortable to be in them. I don't wear anything white - my wounds will stain it. I don't wear anything sleeveless - my underarms are full of wounds I don't want anyone to see, not to mention the drainage that will have no place to hide. I try to wear my clothing as loosely as possible, but I'm fighting to keep my pride, despite this disease and I hate to look shabby. Depression is all over my face. I try to act happy as best I can, to not bring any attention to myself. I look back at old pictures, and miss how happy I was and how beautiful it was to not be in pain; to just feel nothing. I cry all the time. The tears often start because of the physical pain - but they quickly grow into a bawl just thinking about everything I've already been through, how much the disease controls my life, and how I don't have any idea how to make this better. HS affects my sleep, because it's not easy to fall asleep while you're in pain or you're too busy scratching or squeezing a nuisance of a wound. It's frustrating just knowing that I can't just tell someone, 'I have HS' and have them just know what it is and have a small idea what I'm going through - as I could have if I had something like arthritis or psoriasis. No one knows what this is. No one has heard of it. No one can ever understand - and so I don't try to explain it. I've tried before, and it only leads to individuals thinking they know how to take care of it. I've been told just to scrub it, just to take the pain and squeeze it out and it'll go away and never come back. I've been told to just use natural soaps; that my skin just can't handle the harsh chemicals. I've even been told that it's because I don't pray hard enough. Everybody thinks know, but nobody really knows. It hurts to know that people don't believe me when I say this is an actual disease! It cannot be healed by something as simple as washing it away. If it were that easy, I would have rid myself of this a long time ago, believe me. Would you tell a cancer patient to just wash it off? I didn't think so. My loved ones, who know my condition still don't know what I truly live with because I try so hard to be normal, act like it doesn't bother me, around them. Firstly, because I don't want their ideas on how to 'easily fix' the problem, and secondly, because I don't want to be pitied. I just want to be free. 

After two three-month courses of antibiotics, I was over it. I was over putting these pills into my body just to get little to no results. I stopped seeing Dr. A and went back to just dealing with it - drug free. This meant frequent visits to the emergency room and urgent care centres, and of course just waiting for some to burst on their own. I remember crying to a doctor at an urgent care, telling her how tired I was and asking her to I&D an abscess under my armpit. She told me there was no way to cure this and I was just going to have to live with it. How rude! I mean, so far I haven't found what she said to be untrue, but she could have been a little more comforting and optimistic. Can you believe she didn't even cut the abscess? She told me to take some antibiotics and wait for it to break open on its own. With this disease, I've learned that you're going to have to kiss many frogs to find your prince - kisses being doctor appointments, frogs being doctors, and the prince being a doctor who doesn't necessarily have all the answers, but just cares enough to try, and then try again. That night, I was in so much pain and a doctor refused to help me. Physically and mentally, I was fed up. I actually quit my job that next morning and applied for Employment Insurance. Getting up and ready in the morning was too hard and my supervisor was beginning to give me a hard time for the times I showed up a few minutes late after giving too much attention to a wound in the morning. I was physically and emotionally tired, and I truly just needed a break. So I quit. 

I must have had enough of 'just dealing with it on my own' again, because I decided to go see a doctor one more time. I went to see a family doctor, who prescribed me some antibiotics but also referred me to a lovely dermatologist, Dr. Nisha Mistry. Oh, Dr. Mistry, what can I say about you? On my first visit, she presented me with print-outs and spoke to me on what HS is, what the different causes might be and different treatments. Now, I had already read most of this online while doing my own research, but it truly meant a lot to me that she had taken the time out to read up on my disease prior to my visit. After I told her I had already tried antibiotics - maybe too many times, she told me about Humira. Humira defined by www.drugs.com:  "Humira (adalimumab) reduces the effects of a substance in the body that can cause inflammation. Humira is used to treat rheumatoid arthritis, juvenile idiopathic arthritis, psoriatic arthritis, ankylosing spondylitis, plaque psoriasis, and and a chronic skin condition called hidradenitis suppurativa."  Don't you just love how HS is the only disease they had to briefly define? She explained that she would only recommend this in extremely severe cases, because of the possible side effects. She had me change into a gown, and after taking a look at my wounds, she agreed I had a severe case. Unfortunately, like Dr. A had told me over a year prior, Humira is very expensive, and I didn't not have any drug coverage. She too, like Dr. A, knew of some clinical trials in which I could get the drug for free, but the trials had just ended before my meeting with her. That's when she told me about a program called compassionate care - where the Canadian government actually pays for your medicine because your doctor feels so terribly for you. That's my definition of compassionate care, anyway. She didn't make me any promises at that time, but told me she would put in an application for me. I was approved! There were a few tests and things I needed to do before I could officially start, but I eventually began my Humira treatment a few months later.  I also started working again around the start of my Humira treatment, about four months after I had quit my last job. 

I have to believe Humira helped me. It did not cure me, but I feel like my case got better. It's hard to say for sure because every time I would meet with Dr. Mistry for a check up, she would say it didn't look any better. But I felt better. My range of motion improved and I feel I was able to do more things a little more comfortably. I was still making visits to the emergency room, however. After one particular visit where I ended up staying the night, the hospital notified Dr. Mistry. She called me in a panic about a week later demanding that I come and see her right away. The hospital had totally exaggerated my symptoms. Apparently I had a fever when I was admitted, but they told her I came in shivering! They even told her I had been there for 3 days when it had really just been one night. I explained to her that it wasn't as serious as they made it seem, but she was still very concerned. She suggested I stop taking Humira immediately. At that time, I begged her to let me continue, but she pointed out that after eight months of treatment, I was not seeing sufficient results, and with the side effects of Humira, it may have been causing more harm than good. I agreed to stop, and after discussing with her some of the symptoms I was experiencing, she referred me to a gastroenterologist to check for Chron's disease, an internal medicine specialist, to just check me in general, and a general surgeon to actually operate on the HS manifestations. 

SURGERY

Dr. Mistry had suggested I see the gastroenterologist for of some of the symptoms I was experiencing. I had a consult with the gastroenterologist to explain my medical history and my recent symptoms. At that time, he said if it was Chron's, the Humira should have helped with that - but he proceeded to schedule me for a colonoscopy anyway. I was cleared for Chron's - which I was happy about - but that doctor never really addressed the reasons I may have been experiencing the symptoms Dr. Mistry was worried about. Sigh. Doctors. Dr. Mistry had wanted me to see an internal medicine doctor because I was experiencing many fevers and she just wanted to make sure my body chemistry was alright. Somehow that appointment never happened. I was, however, scheduled to meet with general surgeon Dr. K for a consultation, rather quickly, I might add. She was lovely. Before examining me, she explained that she was only a general surgeon, and if my case would require something called a 'flap', then she would have to refer me to a plastic surgeon. A quick glance at my skin would confirm that I, of course, was more of a plastic surgery candidate. My heart sank. Luckily, she knew of an excellent plastic surgeon, she said, and would be able to get me an appointment with him a lot sooner than it would typically take. She was very sympathetic and encouraging and I really wished she could be my surgeon. At that time, I had recently been to the hospital for an I&D and was visiting the CCAC nurses every night. Getting the wound packed was very painful because the incision had been made so small. Dr. K was nice enough to widen it for me. As her nurse was dressing the wound, she assured me that the plastic surgeon I was being referred to was very good, told me I was very brave and that she was impressed with how high my spirits were. If only she knew I was fighting back the tears that would burst out of me as soon as I entered my car. 

It felt like forever before I got a chance to see the plastic surgeon, Dr. T. If Dr. K had in fact expedited my appointment, I feel really sorry for those who don't have that privilege. My parents came with me to this appointment. After I had told them about what happened at my appointment with Dr. K, my dad told me to let him know of any future appointments. It means a lot to me that he didn't want me going alone. I'm guessing Dr. T had just finished reading a Wikipedia page or something on HS when he walked into my room because he was basically telling me all the things I would have read had I quickly did a google search on the disease. He basically told me at that time that surgery was not a good idea because of complications and scarring. This was before he even looked at my skin. After examining me, he tells me that he would prefer I go and see Dr. S, an expert in HS, and he would only perform the surgery if Dr. S recommended it. He told me that he would put in the referral, but not to worry because his office scheduled appointments quickly. In the mean time, he told me to focus on losing weight because HS was often made worse by heaviness. I am not a skinny girl, but I am not huge either. Weight may be a factor in other peoples HS, but not mine. I know this because I had actually lost quite a bit due to stress (of the disease) and my symptoms did not change. I didn't take it personally though. I knew he was just spewing out whatever he had just read on the internet. I was devastated, still. I had really high hopes about him because Dr. K and her nurse had praised him so much. I had even warned a supervisor at work that I may have to take time off shorty in order to recover from surgery. So of course, my heart was crushed. Another appointment that had caused me to go home and cry. 

At this point, I'm waiting for an appointment from Dr. S, but not really, because for one, I had already seen a GREAT dermatologist in Dr. Mistry, and she had already recommended surgery, and two, I no longer trusted Dr. T. It didn't seem like he was eager to help me, and so I didn't want him to. I went back to 'just dealing with it', until I got a call from Dr. Mistry's office asking me to come in to talk about renewing my Humira prescription. I thought this was odd, seeing that I had stopped taking Humira, and Dr. Mistry knew of this. I went in to see her, anyway. I told her about my experiences with Dr. Kapala and Dr. T. She told me that she actually worked for Dr. Sibbald (who still hadn't called me for an appointment, by the way), on his team in his office on Fridays, and she knew for sure he would recommend surgery. This made me even more upset at Dr. T. She offered to refer me to another surgeon. I explained to her how frustrated and exhausted I was at all the appointments and disappointments - and that I needed a break from it. She understood completely, and let me know I could call her whenever I was ready to try again.  

I got another odd call from Dr. Mistry's office a couple months later telling me that Dr. Mistry wanted me to call her to discuss my test results. It was odd because I hadn't taken any tests. I called anyway. She explained that she had been in contact with a Humira spokesperson who had asked her about my Humira experience. After she had told him that I didn't really benefit from it, he told her of a plastic surgeon who would love to help, as a 'special favor'. She said she knows I had opted to take a break from surgery consultations, but she didn't want to let the opportunity pass without offering it to me. I accepted. I wanted to at least talk to this surgeon. I was still in pain, and maybe this was my luck finally turning around. 

I met with Dr. CT on Monday, November 21st, 2016. She asked about my Humira experience and about the surgeons I had seen before her. After I told her that Dr. T had basically told me he didn't want to do it, she told me that nobody wants to do it. She explained it was an extremely messy surgery that would require a skin graft and two separate surgery weeks apart, and after all of that, my body may reject it. When briefly describing what surgery on my lower body would be like, she mentioned that I would have to urinate in a bag temporarily. As you can imagine, this is where the tears starting filling my eyes. As she was working really hard to turn me off this surgery, I'm sitting there wondering why I was even invited to this appointment. I was told that there was a surgeon who wanted to help me as a special favor and when I met her, I felt like I was just being kicked in the gut. I told Dr. Mistry I needed a break from the heartbreak of surgeons telling me they can't help me, and she sent me to a surgeon that would reject me again. The surgery did sound awful, I have to admit. Her goal was clearly to make me change my mind about desperately wanting the surgery, and she did so well that I even forgave Dr. T for rejecting me. After seeing the tears run down my face and the disappointment in my eyes, Dr. CT offered to refer me to a plastic surgeon at St. Mikes Hospital who had done more complicated HS surgeries. I declined. I was so over it. Instead of surgery, Dr. CT suggested that I should go back on Humira. She stressed that it is a very new drug and it will get better and work. Whatever. I was on Humira for eight months and it barely helped me. I'm convinced I was just injecting cancer into myself and not seeing any immediate benefits with my HS. I refuse to go back on Humira. Something has got to give. 

Dr. CT called me herself the next evening at 7:00PM to tell me she had spoken to the Humira representative, and he was doing to be in touch with Dr. Mistry in recommending some other dermatologists that have a little more experience with HS. She also said that she would contact Dr. Melinda Musgrave, the plastics surgeon at St. Mikes, and ask about any new approaches she has come across and can suggest. She explained St. Mikes is trying to develop a clinic of some sort where they can talk to HS patients about lifestyle changes, such as diet, that may minimize the effects of HS. She stressed that even though she didn't think surgery was a solution to HS, she didn't want me to believe that there was no hope, and that there were hopefully a couple things we could try before taking that route. The call meant everything for me. It lifted my spirits. It just felt like there was another doctor out there, in addition to Dr. Mistry, who was in my corner - who saw my pain and truly wanted to help.

NATUROPATHY

I had reached out to a naturopath, Dr. S. The appointment was booked for a few days after I got the call from Dr. Mistry about Dr. CT, and I almost cancelled it thinking that I wouldn't need him anymore because Dr. Mistry found me someone that would help, but I didn't. During my first appointment with him, I just spent the hour telling him about my disease and how it affected me daily. He asked questions, I would answer them. He ended the appointment by telling me that he "really, really, really wanted to help" me, and gave me a few of his ideas. He prescribed me Effer C, a supplement to help me go to the bathroom more often and Vitamin D, and we booked an appointment for about 3 weeks later. By the next appointment, he had a very detailed plan written up that predicted to have me pretty much healed in six months. The plan included a couple supplements, something called colonics, and a strict diet of no dairy, sugar, gluten or wheat. As you can imagine, sticking to that diet proved to be difficult, but I did try. I saw little to no results, but to be fair - I was not completely committed. I went to a few subsequent appointments, but naturooathy is not covered by OHIP, and although my work insurance covered a lot of the cost, it was becoming expensive to keep seeing him, and during the appointments, he was mostly just making other suggestions of changes I could make to my diet. I felt like I could handle that on my own. 

What's it like to feel nothing? I miss feeling nothing. No discomfort, no pain, no sting. I used to take feeling nothing for granted, and now I know how precious it is. I miss being able to sit down on a chair, a bed, the floor, without feeling anything. I miss being able to get into a car without feeling anything. I miss being able to drive without feeling anything. I miss walking and feeling nothing. Oh, I miss going up and down stairs without feeling anything! I miss putting on my panties, my pants, my bra, my shirt, my coat, without feeling anything. What's it like to get in and out of bed without feeling anything? To take a shower and feel nothing?

SURGERY PT. 2

After that meeting in November 2016 with Dr. CT, I hadn't really been to any doctors, with the exception of the few additional visits with the naturopath. I gained a little relief by changing my diet - but no major improvements. In April 2018, the drainage coming from my arms was uncontrollable. My shirts were soaking wet within a few minutes of changing into them. I didn't know what else to do except to plea with a surgeon to operate on me. I chose Dr. CT. I met with her on June 6th 2018. Again, she illustrated a nasty surgery that might not even be successful. I told her I didn't care, I needed to do something. She offered to send me down to St. Michael's Hopsital to see plastic surgeon Dr. Melinda Musgrave or her colleague Dr. Karen Cross, who do a lot more work with HS. I agreed to a referral, just because I could tell how badly she did not want to operate on me. If you'll recall, she had mentioned referring me to these doctors before, but nothing ever came of it.

This time, I got a surgery consultation with plastics surgeon Dr. Karen Cross, scheduled originally for November 2018, but moved up to September 2018. It was simply and honestly the best consult I've ever had. She specializes in HS surgeries and really can't imagine why I hadn't been referred to her before. She told me I was an excellent candidate for surgery, but she agreed that my disease was so active that it probably wouldn't be effective. She requested that I see a dermatologist of her choice, follow their suggested treatment for about three months, and after the disease had calmed down, she would operate. I loved speaking with her because she just got it. She knew exactly how I was feeling as a person living with HS without me having to tell her. She knew and answered all my questions before I even had a chance to ask. It was obvious she had spent real time with other HS patients because she truly just got it. She was so hopeful and encouraging. She let me know that it would be a long journey to recovery, but that we would be on that journey together - and that I should always let her know where my head is at and how I'm truly feeling not only physically, but emotionally. I had never met a surgeon like her and even if I don't end up getting a surgery, I'm so glad that my path lead me to her - just to know doctors like her exist. 

CLINICAL TRIALS

Dr. Cross referred me to dermatologist Dr. Afsaneh Alavi, also specializing in HS. She enrolled me into a clinical research study for a potential new "antibody therapy". Without going into much detail, I was required to go into a clinic every two weeks for intravenous infusion and complete a small questionnaire on a phone-like device nightly. I officially began getting dosed in October of 2018. A lot like my experience with Humira, I couldn't see any changes in the way the disease physically presented itself, but I can say the day to day pain dropped considerably and my quality of life increased. However, in mid-December, I developed a large abscess on my upper thigh. It had been growing in size and pain for about a week before my next scheduled infusion and meeting with Dr. Alavi. After examining the abscess, she decided immediately to take me off the study and arranged for me to have it drained that morning. She prescribed Ertapenem, an antibiotic infused intravenously daily, for four weeks.

ERTAPENEM

Ertapenem is an antibiotic administered intravenously. I was taught how to run the IV on my own at home. It took about 30-45 minutes and then I would wrap up the IV site with gauze until I was ready to do it again the next day. While showering, I used a arm cast protector I found in a home health care store. It's basically a long plastic glove-bag that spans the entire arm, the way a cast would, and tightly seals before the shoulder. I couldn't use that arm to clean myself with, but the IV site was protected from the water. My IV site would have to be changed every 3-5 days. I would go to a CCAC clinic to have a nurse set up a basic IV line in my arm or hand. I have very difficult veins, and so nurses often had a hard time starting my IV. On every visit, I was poked multiple times before one was successful. There was a night when the nurses were not able to find a good vein, and I was sent to the emergency room for one of the nurses there to try. I waited four hours that night just to get an IV started. Initially, the plan was for me to have a procedure done to get a 'picc line', which is more secure than the regular IV and could remain in my arm for weeks without having to be moved, but that wasn't scheduled until week three of my four week course of the drug and it just didn't make sense at that point. All this to say, the treatment of Ertapenem caused some minor inconveniences, but overall I was pleased with the results. 

Ertapenem was the best treatment I've received so far. I felt virtually no pain during the 4 weeks I was on the medication. My wounds pretty much dried up. Although you could still see them, there was no drainage coming from any of my wounds. My clothes remained dry throughout the day and through the night and I never worried about staining my seat. Proving this, my laundry loads we significantly smaller and my jeans/pants were clean enough to re-wear before washing.

CLINICAL TRIAL DRUG: IFX-1

Although an effective treatment for me, I could not remain on Ertapenem for very long. Antibiotics are not meant to be taken long-term. I was on the drug for about five weeks. With permission from the sponsors and executives of the clinical trial, Dr. Alavi allowed me to continue treatment with the clinical drug, IFX-1. During the first phase of the trial, I was either being given the active drug, or a placebo. Dr. Alavi wanted to give me a chance to enter the second phase of the trial, which guaranteed active drug administration.

Since beginning the second phase, I can confidently say I feel better. I have not experienced any large new abscesses, and the ones I already had are smaller and draining less. The most improved symptom is my ability to move; my range of motion. I am able to move my arms and legs in ways I wasn't able to do before. This alone has improved my mood and my quality of life. Dr. Alavi agrees, I will still need surgery to remove the skin that the HS has completely destroyed over the years, but if this drug makes it to the market, I believe it could help many of us keep the disease under control. 

December 30th, 2019 Dr. Cross performed a 'left axilla extraction with flap' surgery on October 31st, 2019. She removed all of the affected skin from my armpit and pulled skin from my back to replace the missing skin. It was a day surgery that took about 3 hours. The wound was cared for by near by clinic nurses. It took a little over a month to fully close. The surgery went extremely well and I am please with the results. I will meet with Dr. Cross again in a few months to talk about my right arm. Dr. Alavi thinks I should return to Humira in the mean time, but at this point, I don't think I want to take that route. I know it's only been a couple months, but I believe surgery is the solution for me. 

November 22nd, 2020 Dr. Cross performed the same surgery, this time on my right axilla on August 20th, 2020. Again, the surgery went well and I am pleased with the results. Now, I don’t have any inflammation or affected skin in my armpits and it’s truly changed my life. I can wear sleeveless tops and I don’t have to worry about drainage messing up tops with sleeves. I can finally wear white if I choose to. I do still have some HS on my lower body, but nothing that warrants the surgeries I needed for my arms. I will try to treat what’s left with diet changes - specifically the keto diet and will keep you updated.

The rest is still unwritten...