#one has been owing me for a little over a year now and hasn't sent a thing but is always going out shopping and going out to dinners

[bootyful-seventeen]

quick question for y'all when it comes to friends owing friends money, and not like 50 bucks but the more significant ones like $200+ range

if you owed a friend that much what would y'all do to pay it back? do it in installments if it was too much at once, send whatever you can when you can even if its like $40 after 8 months and $20 6 months after cuz times be rough, or let it build up until you're stressed about owing money to multiple people while still splurging more on yourself???? i just gotta know what others would think is normal for paying someone back

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Talisman by Witch_Nova221

💙 Talisman

by Witch_Nova221

M, 192k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji runs Cloud Recesses, a classical theatre that was once his mother's pride and joy but is slowly falling into disrepair with dwindling audiences and profits. With Jinlintai Entertainments holding the majority shares, they force him to host Stygian Tiger, a rock band with a reputation for rowdy behaviour and a lead singer with a past. Little does he know that the band he is so reluctant to host will bring him into contact with the best friend he lost touch with sixteen years before and together they begin the fight to save Cloud Recesses from the developers who want to bulldoze it and build houses on the only home Lan Wangji has ever loved. Kay's comments: Talisman is one of those stories I re-read again and again, it's got a special place in my heart. Nova's love for theater really shines through in this story and the Cloud Recesses theater became alive in this story. It's a modern setting where Lan Wangji lives with his mother, the theater manager, for a while, until she dies. Then, he's sent to live with his uncle and brother and things are fraught. Wei Wuxian, meanwhile, spends most of his childhood in a children's home and Lan Wangji becomes his dearest friend. They get torn apart when Wei Wuxian gets adopted by the Jiangs and years later, they meet again. Now, Wei Wuxian is a famous rockstar and Lan Wangji has taken over as the theater manager, though the Cloud Recesses are struggling. There's lots of heartbreak and angst in this story, but in the end, everything gets resolved beautifully, no matter how dire it seems from time-to-time. Many cast members work in the Cloud Recesses as well and I grew very fond of them in this world and despite the angst, this is a comfort story for me, maybe because of the happy ending that felt so well-earned. Excerpt: 'I'll be with you in a minute,' he called up, 'Technically the bar is closed but I can always put it on the rider.' 'Not the rider as I really should be buying you a drink at the very least as it appears I owe you an apology,' said a soft voice above him, 'You see, I found out today that my best friend has been looking for me for years and hasn't had a response. So could you please reopen the bar so I can buy you a drink, Lan Zhan.' Lan Wangji froze at the sound of the name spoken. The name no one had called him for sixteen long years. He got to his feet, meeting the familiar haunting eyes that had stared at him from the Yiling Laozu's image for weeks. Eyes that had made something inside him twist and now, alive and bright with unshed tears before him, he knew why. His friend had left him a boy but he could still see him in the man standing before him. 'Wei Ying?'

pov lan wangji, modern setting, modern no powers, past wei wuxian/xue yang, past lan xichen/jin guangyao, past lan wangji/others, lan xichen/nie mingjue, nielan, theatre, rock band, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, childhood friends, friends to lovers, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced drug abuse, implied/referenced rape/non-con, fluff and angst, stalking, minor character death, orphans, reunions, found family, lan family feels, jiang family dynamics, good brother jiang cheng, chronic illness, chronic pain, mutual pining, @witchnova221

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[kayhi808]

More Than Our Scars - Part 9

You wake up with Billy beside you, he's still sound asleep. Neither one of you suffered from nightmares, probably because you wore each other out. You stretch, the muscles in your body are beautifully aching due to Mr Russo. Slipping out of his bed, you return to your room to shower and dress. You head to the living room to turn on your Christmas tree lights. You still can't believe Billy did that for you. It's not the nicest looking, but you absolutely love it. You start coffee & breakfast when there's a knock at the door. You quietly go over to the peephole to check to see who's out there & its Frank. You know he's Billy's best friend, but you aren't comfortable around him at all. Since the first time you met him & thought he was going to use you to get back at Kingpin. You didn't want to wake Billy since he's finally had a uninterrupted sleep, so you open the door. "Hi, Frank."

"G'morning Y/N. Is Bill here? He hasn't been answering his phone." He walks on in, as he usually does, you're guessing. You couldn't very well have shoved him out.

"He's still sleeping. He may have his phone on silent." You move to the kitchen, behind the island. You feel safer with something between you and Frank. "Can I make you some coffee?"

"Yea, great. So, what happened yesterday? I had a message that Dr. Dumont was looking for Bill and that a woman he was with interrupted their session. He wasn't answering her calls either. Why would you do that?"

"Why does she call you regarding what happens at Bill's appointments? That must be a violation of HIPAA Privacy Rule." You see a look of surprise on Frank's face. "I may have been Fisk's whore, but I'm not stupid." He walks towards you & you step back from the island & him, but all he does is take a seat. You get a hold of yourself and pour Frank his coffee, trying to control your shaking hands.

"Maybe because Curtis & I were the only ones visiting Bill when he was in the hospital. Maybe because he's like a brother to me. He's my family."

"You should be concerned with how many rules this lady is willing to break because it benefits her. Not her patient." You slide his coffee to him.

"Because you know what's best for Bill. You, who's known him, for what? A little over a month? Frank forces out a humorless laugh, "Gotta admit, I'm surprised how fast you got Bill to set you up in here. You got a good thing going." He takes a sip of coffee but his eyes never leave you.

Your cheeks flame with embarassment at his insinuation. Its not something you can deny. "Bill saved my life. I'll never be able to repay him for that. I owe him...everything."

"Kingpin's whore? Is that how you got all that inside information?"

Confused, "Bill, didn't tell you?"

"Darling, you are top secret. Bill hasn't told me anything about you other than Fisk is after you and Bill is not letting him take you back."

Your heart swells that Billy has kept your confidence even to his best friend. You also understand Frank's skepticism. "My father was indebted to Wilson & he couldn't pay him back, so he...he gave me up to work off his debt. I was with him for 3 years. I was never told how long it would be for. Bill said that once my looks fade, he would have sold me off or killed me. I was his...slave. Whore. I did whatever he wanted me to do. He'd send me to his associates as a...gift. I had to keep my ears & eyes open & report back to him." You start unconciously scratching at the scars on your wrist. "He had a new guy guarding me. He's suppose to collect me at the door but he was waiting for me out front with the car. It was my chance to escape, so i took it. Wilson ended up killing the new guy. I was able to hide for 3wks until he found me again & sent someone to bring me back. That's when Bill saved me. He thought I was a kid getting beaten."

Frank understood now. Billy saw himself in a young kid and wanted to save him. Unlike how no one saved him.

"I don't expect you to believe me or trust me, but I only want the best for Bill. Dr. Dumont is not it. You're not here with him every day & every night. You can't see the changes in him. You guys do security & background checks here. You should look into her."

You see Billy enter the living room, "Frankie? What's going on here?"

With a sigh of relief, you circle around Frank giving him a wide berth. "You were sleeping & I didn't want to wake you. You normally get up at around this time anyways. I have coffee ready & I made muffins. They're cooling."

You walk past him to go to your room & he holds your arm, "You ok?" You give a small smile & nod. Bill continues on to the kitchen to get his coffee. "So, what's up?"

"Your girl. She doesn't like me much."

"You did want to use her as bait for Fisk. She's not going to be your biggest fan."

"I didn't know what he did to her or I wouldn't have suggested it."

Billy tenses,"What do you mean?"

"We talked. She told me." Billy goes to your room, "I'll be right back", he calls over his shoulder. He knocks when he gets to your door, "Y/N?" You open the door. "Hey, Frank said you talked."

"He asked how I came up with all the info on Wilson & his men...I told him."

Pulls her in to hug & kisses you, "You're ok with that?"

You nod into his chest. "He would have found out eventually."

"I wasn't going to say anything to him."

Squeezes him tighter, "I know. Thank you. If you're going after Fisk, him or his men would have said something. I'd rather Frank heard it from me."

"My brave girl." You laugh. "Lemme go talk to Frank. You don't have to stay in here."

"He's going to ask you about your session yesterday. Dumont called him." You feel Billy's body tense under your hug. "I thought you may want some privacy."

"I didn't tell you about it last night, you might as well join us." Billy brings you back to Frank at the kitchen bar. "Dumont called you?"

"She said you left in the middle of the session. You weren't answering our calls...what's going on?"

"I can fulfill the insurance requirements with another therapist. I ain't going back to her. She hasn't helped me remember shit. She just insinuates that I fucked the mission & jeopardize my people. They depended on me & I nearly got them killed." Lily slips her hand in his.

"You got our men outta there. None of them were seriously injured, besides you."

"But what if its true?? Huh? I...I don't fucking know! I can't remember shit! Was Homeland setting us up? Did I miss something? I'm the CEO of this company. Why was I on a mission?! Why didn't I leave it up to a team? Was that normal for me? HOW THE FUCK DO I KNOW?!"

"Babe," you squeeze his hand.

"Jesus, Bill! There's no doubt in my mind that you had thought the attack through to the second. Zero doubt! You got your men out of there. If it weren't for you, they'd all be dead."

"How do you fucking know? I DON'T EVEN KNOW!" Bill hangs his head, trying to control the tears he feel coming on.

"Brother, I know you. I know how you think, how you work. You may not remember, but I KNOW YOU. If that's what's tearing you up inside, stop." Frank looks at you & you give him an i-told-you-so look. Frank comes around the counter & you release Billy's hand & Frank pulls him into a hug. Bill emotionally shuts down. You recognize the look. You've seen it in him. You've seen it in yourself. Frank is busy whispering something to Bill, but you see his eyes glaze over. He's not paying attention any more.

Your heart breaks for Bill. That's the cause of his nightmares, trying to save his men. Thinking he did something wrong to jeopardize his team. And that bitch fed into his fears, tearing him down piece by piece. A vulnerable person gets placed in your care & to betray them...to betray Bill. You are overwhelmed with rage. If you ever see that woman again, Lord help her! You want to kill her.

Frank had to leave & get back to the Training Center & Billy is still standing alone in the middle of the kitchen, fists clenched at his sides. "Babe?" He turns his head to you, eyes bright with unshed tears. You go to him reaching up to clasp his neck, brushing his jaw with your thumb. He takes your hand and places it on his scarred cheek, closing his eyes & letting his tears escape. Your heart is destroyed by this man's pain. You'd give everything that's in you to take his pain away. He nuzzles into your palm craving your touch. You gently cradle his face, lowering him down for you to kiss. You've never touched his scars, fearing that you'd hurt him. Sometimes in the healing process, the nerves become super sensative. Your gentle kisses soon become over taken by Bill's hungry ones. What ever comfort he's trying to find in you, whatever it is that he's seeking, you'll give. To lose himself in your arms, your body; just for a little while. To escape the pain he's suffering. He picks you up & carries you back to his room.

@idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

[uh-76]

I wanted to try writing, and I was wondering if anyone could tell me if this is any good. There's a little description of gore in the beginning, so if you're really squeamish, watch out? I don't know if it makes any sense, and this is my first time writing like in a story setting, so...

As soon as he stepped across the threshold, he caught a whiff of something. It was pungent, definitely rotting and in spite of himself he wrinkles his nose in disgust. Adonis Vasileiou thought that after all these years he'd be used to the smell of rot, especially in his profession.

The body lies still on the floor in front of him, horribly mangled. It had been there for at least a couple days by the looks of it. Adonis sighs and strides up to it in a few quick steps, stooping low to inspect the bloody face of the former assassin.

He'd been sent to kill the man, Richard Starden, but it looks like someone else had already done it. Less work for him he supposes, standing back to his full height. Adonis considers the corpse once more and walks straight back out of the room.

The walk back to his apartment is dark with the moon casting a haunting glow after the city. Thick fog shrouds everything in mystery, leaving him a little more on edge than usual. You never know what sort of scum will try and slip up on you in the night, especially with the sort of reputation Adonis has made himself.

Most people fear him, as they should, being the most famous killer in Slaton, but a few want to take him down a peg. Prove themselves as more brutal or cunning then the Wraith himself. For his size most would expect him to be slow or clunky, but he is no such thing. He's quick, and silent as death, both of which earned him his name.

Adonis pauses in front of his apartment door when he hears shuffling inside. He slips his dagger out of the sheath and quietly steps in. He’s greeted by a knife to the throat. “Deianira” he greets slowly, frowning at the woman in front of him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Where were you?” She demands, anger alighting her usually stoic features.

“Out.” He replies simply, unwilling to offer further clarification. “Will you remove the dagger from my throat or are we going to have the rest of the conversation like this?”

She narrows her eyes at him and begrudgingly steps away.

“Why are you in my apartment?” he asks, straight to the point.

“You still owe me money,” she points her knife at him, a scowl still firmly affixed to her face.

“Do I?” he hums brushing past her into the apartment. He hangs his coat and toes off his shoes, fully intent on going straight to bed after the day he had. “I must've forgotten”

That was surely the wrong thing to say when her scowl only deepens. “Forgotten,” she scoffs, following him into the apartment. “Oh please Adonis, you don't forget about things like that.”

He grunts in reply and occupies himself with taking off all of the hidden knives he carries. Gods his shoulders hurt, when was the last time he had bothered to stretch properly? “Can we talk in the morning?” he sighs, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his scarred back to her.

“You're an ass,”

“I know,” by the time he glances back to look at her again she's gone.

The next morning comes far too soon for Adonis’ taste and with it comes Deianira. He slips out of bed popping his sore joints as he walks into the kitchen. He still hasn't recovered from his time spent in the pits. An illegal fighting ring in the city's underworld or as Adonis would put it, an easy way to make money.

He runs his hand through messy black hair, now that he thinks about it he should get it cut. It's a little too long for comfort, falling over the tops of his ears in a way he doesn't like. On the topic of hair he should shave too, the stubble covering his jaw scratches when he wears his mask, far too annoying to ignore for long.

Deianira is sitting on one of the high chairs next to the kitchen island, tapping her short nails impatiently on the counter top. “You look like shit,” she states bluntly.

“Good morning to you too” he sighs, his voice still rough from sleep. He ambles into the kitchen, putting on the kettle and settling into the routine of making breakfast. “Breakfast?” He offers, keeping his eyes fixed on the bread he's slicing.

She ignores my question “Where's my money, Adonis?” She asks harshly.

It's a shame she's so abrasive he thinks they would have gotten along if she wasn't. “I'll stop by the vaults today” he replies “You can come if you like.” He can feel her eyes burning holes in his back. He wonders briefly why she must always be so angry.

“Fine,” she snaps and he shakes his head, mildly amused by her bitterness. He finishes his breakfast in silence before going back to his room to get dressed.

He secures his knives and then puts on a crisp white button-up and some black slacks, taking care to look like every other wealthy man in the financial district. He ignores Deianira as he pulls on his coat and leaves his apartment, locking the door after her.

It's definitely not done, but I just want to know if it's like ok

[luminoushane]

Been making a TOH x RWBY au and accidentally made it Frosen steel 😭😭 they are inevitable.

Anyways-

It's under the cut!!

Enter Ruby Rose. Typical kid with anxiety back in school. Totally not half witch, with a witchy dad and a witchy half-sister, nope. Totally normal. (Lies)

Summer rose (who is alive) is pretty busy with her new job, bit she can't leave poor, 14 year old Ruby alone all the time in the house.

So what does she do? Why, send her off to a magical world with her dad and her sister for the summer, or course!

Yang and Ruby get along so well it's scary. Tai and Qrow now have two monsters on their home.

"wdym you don't have summer break here? That's tragic. Can I go to witchy school too?"

So she does

At first, Ozpin was a little hesitant to let in a half witch bc of the bullying she might endure. But Tai proposed that it was only for a few months, and Ruby would leave anyway

He agrees. "Don't get in trouble" he says

She gets in trouble

Oh no. She befriends Blake, who wanted to "get even" with this white haired girl for being so mean to her . This white haired girl who turns out to be Weiss Schnee herself.

Blake and Ruby are friends but only bc Blake owes her one but y'know what she's nice Blake thinks,,, a little sister, mayhaps. A little sister indeed when she sees her older sister, "hoo boy is it hot in here or is it you- wait no. Keep it together, Blake"

Weiss does not like Ruby at all "what are you doing here, hybrid? Shouldn't you be on you stupid human School? Or are you not allowed there too?"

Ruby: "Oh god you're scary, pls don't 🙏 we can be friends :D??? Oh she left..."

Weiss, in her head: "who the fuck is god?"

Ruby runs along the woods and encounters a beast, a BEAST! WONDERFUL! SHE CAN SHOW OFF HOW WELL SHE CAN FIGHt and she doesn't have magic. Oh well. It's been a good few days. Oh, someone saved her

"hey, are you okay?" The stranger with the sweetest voice asks. She even has this pretty white cape and gold belt and- oh it's an emperor's coven guard. One who apparently, must be from the higher-ups, considering the gold mask.

"fine. I'm fine" Ruby looks away bc ohhhhhh she has such a pretty voice gay panic gay panic g-

"you must be the half witch, no? I've heard so much about you." "Good things, I hope?" "..." "...good things, right?..."

After that incident, she now has a mysterious guard friend.

Weiss still dislikes her, a lot. And it doesn't help that her sister and Blake are too busy flirting with each other. One faithful day, she catches resident bully; Cardin Winchester, talking to Weiss. It doesn't sound good at all, they sound aggressive. It's an argument. Ruby couldn't hear much, but Weiss seemed intimidated when Cardin stepped closer, a spell circle ready. Oh, that wasn't gonna fly.

"Hey, leave her alone" says local half witch who hasn't mastered what little magic she has. Cardin laughs bc c'mon she's so short and tiny what can she do

Oh she took karate classes

Oh woe is Ruby who got sent to detention

(she met team jnpr there!)

Weiss is waiting for her outside the school. "Are you crazy, hybrid? You could've gotten expelled!" "Well, you could've gotten hurt!" "I can defend myself, thank you very much. I'm stronger than you! I have magic!"

Ruby looks down "right..." Weiss grabs her wrist and inspects it. "He grabbed your hand very hard, does it hurt? Why would you even do that? You think you're some strong hero? You could've gotten killed!"

Ruby looks up at her, fascinated. "Oh... Uhm, sorry." She pulls away and runs back home.

Slams door open "YANG I HAVE A CRUSHES WHAT DO"

"A WHAT"

Ruby explains like "So this one girl the other day was soooo nice to me and saved me and she has such a pretty voice and today I got sent to detention for protecting Weiss and after that she was worried I'd get hurt and she held my hand and she was checking if I had bruises and she tucked her pretty white hair behind her ear and-" "YOU GOT WHAT"

Ruby has been meeting up with her new guard friend. She's never seen her face :/. When Ruby asks about it, she goes "Just promise me you won't tell anyone, okay?" And Ruby lifts up the mask and stares at the green eyes of a cute redhead with a pretty smile.

RUBY FALLS OVER GOOD B Y E

"My name is Penny. You don't have to call me "miss guard" anymore 😅 it feels... Weird"

"okay pretty- I MEAN PENNY"

"also? Thanks for saving my girlfriend back there. She's said some good things about you today."

"your what"

Ruby goes back home, dejected. "YAAANNGGHHH THEY'RE DATING EACH OTHER! I AM LITERALLY THE EPITOME OF GRIEF AND LONELINESS! IMAGINE! YOU HAVING A CRUSH ON TWO PEOPLE! THEN THEY'RE DATING!"

"ask both of them out"

"huh"

"Ruby it's 2021. Polyamory exists."

"huh you have a point. Maybe... Maybe..."

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Today, a friend of mine said that he thinks, in some ways, literature peaked with Shakespeare. He then sent me this excerpt of Romeo and Juliet

And when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun

He then proceeded to talk about how he couldn't get over it, especially since he couldn't remember ever reading anything else quite like it. And it is really gorgeous, I never read the original Romeo and Juliet and I loved this, but it did make me think immediately of An Apology. So I gave him some context for Kauri's story and sent him the poem (and read it again in the process)

I feel like you should know that the impact for me hasn't changed since you first posted it and that your poem is currently being discussed against Shakespeare. (My friend thought it was beautiful, btw)

(for those who don’t know, this is the post Vicky is referencing)

Oh my gosh, that’s such a lovely thing of you to say. I mentioned it after I published the post, but it has been so long since I put much work into writing poetry that it definitely felt like being Kauri trying to force all the thoughts to fit together the way I wanted them to.

It was a really weird thing of trying to write decent poetry after a long time away from the format while simultaneously trying to make sure it read like someone who hasn’t written poetry in a while and so was a little rough around the edges but ALSO not wanting it to read like BAD poetry and it was just. A whole thing. 

That said, I definitely believe Shakespeare had an incredibly rare gift for words and pulling emotions from thin air. I think the same of poets like Rumi, every once in a while someone is born to write in a way that absolutely eclipses almost all the writing around them. And I’m so glad we have kept as much as we have to look back on and get that “people have always been people, and art/writing/poetry/storytelling in general is intrinsic to our existence, but some people embody humankind’s capacity for art in ways that are absolutely mind-boggling.”

(I have like a whole series of thoughts on this about cave paintings for the record but like. I will spare you. Just know that prehistoric art was one of my focuses in college and I have SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT IT and I think our insistence on everything being for some ritual purpose or a sign of early religion obfuscates the simple fact that people. tell. stories. and. people. love. art. and... I’ll stop now)

Romeo and Juliet definitely includes some of my favorite moments and turns of phrase (although plenty of his other works just absolutely knock me apart too, MacBeth is just... aahhhhhhh, and oh god Hamlet as a portrait of self-destruction in so many ways and the fucking sonnets anyway moving on) and I just. The comparison is so much and I love you for it but I absolutely do not deserve it, haha

Also I’m bad at receiving compliments so there’s that

I will now be hiding under a table

(below the cut is the text of the poem if you want to skip rereading the Kauri piece but want a reminder)

AN APOLOGY

I am built from the hollow air left after your heart stopped beating Your hands still gripped tight to the life they were ending I know you thought of home but I don’t know where your home is The sound of my voice is a green valley that only sends back screaming

Covered in smoke and dust that I told myself smelled like cologne Pathways that remember your laughter silent in the years that followed Have I done enough to build a life you would have enjoyed living? I am built from the hollow air left over when your heart stopped beating

The heat of their hands as inevitable as a river tore down every foundation Their cruelty buried you so deeply that only I remain I don’t deserve the love that should have been yours to receive The sound of my voice is a valley echoing back your screaming

I owe you an apology for walking around inside you Crumbling ruins with my touch and calling it preservation I’m sorry for every blade of grass growing through our bones Am I nothing but hollow air from when your heart stopped beating?

Wildflowers grow inside me from soil windswept over ash Is that life worth everything not quite dead so deep below? Is Kauri Grant good enough to make up for Liam Harker’s loss? In the valley of my body, does anyone but me still hear you screaming?

I owe you an apology and have to hope the life I live provides it I wish I could ask for forgiveness from the shape of you   We’re both ghosts, in the end, mosaic pieces shattered in shadows I’m sorry that I’m all that’s left.

I built myself from hollow air in the shape of a heart still beating The sound of my voice will always carry the echo of yours screaming

[capri-ramblings]

Idk if anyone still remembers this but I actually forgot I finished chapter 3 about a week ago and didn't even posted it 🙂 still kinda confusing I think? But I promise, It'll come together soon 😤💖

[ R a p t u r e d ]

Chapter Three

The walls encasing your freedom began to simmer your frustration, and when a spiral staircase immerged from the wooden floorboards right across the room, your hands reflexively balled into fists.

Though when an unfamiliar face greeted you, they uncurled and from where you sat on the chaise beside your only window, your figure hunched over to pull your knees closer to your body. You'd been reacting so defensively lately, it almost felt natural now.

"Did they send you up to finally get rid of me?" Your words were harsh, a deep grating rage lacing each enunciation you spat out and yet the girl seemed unfazed as her lips curled into a small smile.

"I don't think they're that merciful, but Prince Leona has stated multiple times he'd rather you be dead."

"Who are you then?"

"An ally" She answered then rather hastily added, "If you'd allow it."

You scoffed,bitter and dry you almost sounded gruff and nasally.

"Like I allowed to be imprisoned and kept like an animal?"

The girl's expression softened and she gave what seemed to be an understanding nod before she placed both hands behind her back and stood poised before you.

"Boe" She said, "My name is Boe. As in the kind you'd use to hunt with but with an 'E' at the end because my nan felt it was creative." She sounded pleasant, to be honest,she looked decent as well, like a very familiar face you'd seen somewhere and yet nowhere at the same time. She wore her hair in two loose twin braids,her simple beige coloured tunic and short khakis gave her overall soft, feminine looks a rather boyish touch. And when she smiled it was genuinely given.

Despite yourself, Boe's appearance had you feeling a little less hostile and perhaps even a bit more hopeful.

"I made them an offer" You told her and again she nodded her head.

"To kill your brother in exchange for your freedom. Why?"

"Isn't that what they wanted? That bastard killed their beast and the only reason I'm here is because he's traded me off for his glory."

Boe seemed surprised at how you caught onto the situation at hand but you could see how calculative her eyes were. She may have looked pleasant but you weren't foolish enough to trust her, and if she knew your captives then chances are she wasn't just some typical servant running errands. They sent her up to you to talk, which meant they trusted her. And they didn't look like the trusting type.

"He and I aren't related by blood" You told her, scornfully. "It doesn't take much to piece up my being here, and I'll tell you now that he's not coming to save me. Not when he has every village folk singing his glory and the King welcoming him in his halls."

You sounded so dejected, Boe practically felt the heat of rage circulating through the room, but she also sensed sorrow. A sort of grief from the way you hunched yourself over. You've been through a lot, she could see that much.

"Tell me, did you ever believe the story your land has? It's history with the Faefolk and magic?"

You knew little. Simply enough to have your mind wander, but every child was like that, and when it was time to face the world and grow up, the stories you used to cling to before sleeping became just that; Stories.

So, you told Boe you didn't. You told her you knew the land has always been lavish, that it had always been easy to farm and make produce because it's forests were endless and green. It was because it was placed right in the centre of a growing land, wasn't it? Magic felt too foreign to have been a part of it all.

But then she told you of the story of a man planting a seed given to him by a generous Fae, and that the seed grew into a tree and another and another, until it formed a forest so lush and rich with life, people came to the land as a place of salvation. She told you that the Fae was the Mother Goddess Gaia and that she had made a pact with the humans who stayed in her grounds. They were allowed to grow and live as they wanted as long as her generosity was remembered. Thus the human built shrine after shrine in her name, and the land never once withered. Until weeks after your brother slayed the beast.

You sat there facing her,baffled and refused to believe in such a tale so easily, told yourself that no such thing could be possible...

Yet, the tower that kept you had nothing but a single window and a door that only seemed to appear when called. You remember how you tried climbing down through the window and how your makeshift rope snapped and you thought you'd fall to your death but instead you stayed in the air. Frozen.

As your hardened gaze looked to Boe and the faint light of the sun peeked through the window and into the room, you noticed the slight point of her ears and how in that specific lighting her features looked ethereal,as if she was carved out from a completely different mold.

You've seen those features before. A long,long time ago. The brief memory tucked behind the grains of your mind.

You must've laughed because Boe's expression shifted into confusion, and you ran your hands through your hair as a slight colour flickered to life in your eyes.

"You must think I've gone crazy. Wanting to kill my own brother but I've never seen him as family, and I'm sure he feels the same. It's the only thing we have in common."

"You'd really kill him for your freedom?" Boe asked, almost quietly.

You lifted your gaze,heavy and dark but driven with determination.

"Wouldn't you? It sounds selfish and maybe it is but hasn't he done the same to me? Ever since mother died, I was left under his care which meant he'd been shackled to me against his will and now I'm here and he's drinking in the castle." Your voice shifted, breathless and worn. You wanted to stand, to show to her that you weren't as weak as your captives had force you to be. That you meant what you said.

"I don't care about being kind and understanding anymore. I want to be released. I want to take back what I've lost and if that means killing Cyril and appeasing your Princes, so be it."

***

"You could be their Champion" Boe said as she stared you up and down,her gaze flickering with something you couldn't quite put a finger on. But she smiled when her eyes landed on your face, and a slight shade of pink dusted your cheeks. Though you felt it was because she had been nothing but open in her discussion and all you ever did was scowl and kept your distance.

And perhaps,you couldn't really be blamed for any of it given your own situation, but maybe it wasn't too harmful to act a bit more cooperative...

"A champion?" You repeated the words with your brows furrowed and lips down-curled.

Boe nodded her head.

"Faes often keep champions in order to settle certain affairs,like a representative or a tribute on their part without having to physically attend said affairs themselves, and unlike most dealings, this one has the exceptional perk of not being entirely enslaved by the Fae you serve under"

"...You mean if I agreed to being their... Champion? I wouldn't owe them anything?"

You know the tales of giving your thanks to the Gentry, and how such unfortunate humans fell to the mercy of the cunning creatures. A slight shiver ran up the length of your arm, but you fought the urge to look disgruntled, and simply crossed your arms.

Boe's smile widened a fraction.

"Yes, and I can't tell you why such a thing is possible in the first place, not because I don't want to but because I also do not know the reason behind it. It's said that this pact Faes have created with humans is a rare thing and a ritual they hold with great respect. If you so desire to kill your brother and gain your freedom, being the Princes' Champion is perhaps the best and only way."

"But how can I trust them to hold onto their end of the bargain? I might not have full belief in all your fae nonsense, but I know that whatever you are, your kind are known to be cunning and slippery!"

You felt like jabbing an accusing finger to her chest then,but you bit back the venom on your tongue and swallowed your carousing temper from erupting. Anger did no good in discussions after all. You learned that from years living with your step brother.

Despite it all however,Boe didn't seem to mind your frustration or hostility. In fact, she remained informative and calm, you began understanding why she had been sent up in the first place.

Unlike the Princes themselves, Boe didn't have any intimidation oozing from her demeanor. She came as a neutral party, neither to nurse nor make you submit.

Perhaps her words were the most trustworthy you'd have here.

Perhaps being a Champion was your only way out.

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Part 3

Enjoy @kriskukko​ and @punkhorse96​ 

Blood For Gold

Part 3

Wednesday morning came all too soon. Out of everyone in the Morrigan family, you and Jane were closest, since you were only older than her by a mere five years, she only 17 and you, only 23, but she was incredibly sweet and kind and you insisted that Jane also get a new dress or two for the occasion. 

“This was supposed to be all about you Audra.” Jane gently argued from her spot in the next dressing room in the back of the shop. 

“Who says I can’t share my limelight- at least a little. I would much prefer to see you married off and matched with someone who would treat you like the treasure you are, than myself.” You told her as you peeled your first and frankly hideous dress off your frame. 

“But not for another two years at least, I do not think I’m ready yet.” She meekly replied. 

“Then that is what you should hold to. Do not marry until you are ready, too much disaster can happen when you are not.” You advised. 

“But I don’t think you can last that long.” She murmured quietly. 

“We shall see,” You answered her with a heavy sigh. 

“I was mistaken for you when I came back from Kent.” You informed her nonchalantly. 

“By who?” She asked. 

“Duke Voyambi and Count Jabire.” You answered. 

“But I do not know them personally. I know of them, but not them.” Jane frowned. 

“But what do you know of them?” You asked curiously. 

“The Count only recently became a Count, I believe that title has only been in his family for less than three generations, it was given to them when their grain storehouses were full enough to go through the mill and make enough flour to get the whole of London through a hard winter after a bad drought of the summer, but otherwise it’s a humble family and according to Father, they are nowhere good enough for a Morrigan.” She murmured quietly. 

“And Voyambi?” You asked. 

“Oh, he’s a purist, he’s for union, which Father says is foolish, he’s very involved in making sure all orcs get better… everything, from treatment, to housing, to wages, to food and clothing. Father says he’s the only nobleman foolish enough to throw the classism that brought him so high away and in his efforts to raise all orcs up, will lower himself, but yet we still buy his soap because it’s the best quality around and to buy any other made outside the country is unpatriotic.” She repeated. 

“How did his family get the Duchy?” You asked. 

“Oh his grandfather was the king’s personal body guard and saved the king’s life repeatedly in the last war, he was made a Duke and his family has had the Duchy ever since, the soap had just been a family thing they always made for themselves that the king also enjoyed and when they received the Duchy, the king made the family the official soap makers of his realm, the Voyambi’s and Jabire’s both got their nobilities at the same time, along with the other half of the new money, a great many fortunes have been made and lost since industry has taken off. And both owe their wealth to their industries, that can come today and be gone tomorrow, their fortunes are not stable. So they are also not good enough for a Morrigan.” She answered before you both came out of the dressing rooms in the new gowns. 

“Besides, to lay with an orc is to kiss your cunny goodbye because they’ll destroy it and rip it to shreds, or so I’ve heard.” Jane whispered into your ear as you did your best to not burst from trying to contain your laughter. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Well, Mother always says that the bigger the cock, the smaller the brain too.” She continued to breathe into your ear. 

“Ah, ok. Thanks for letting me know.” You thanked her. Oh, if only she knew that it was an orc cock that finally rutted you right but just thinking about it sent a shiver down your spine. Demsey Draft’s orc cock had been just what you needed, and his mouth, and hands, and amazing body and passionate spirit. And he had smelled like that Duke’s soap too and he was remarkably clean for a male prostitute, even dressed nicely too. Well he had been a moura, all moura’s liked to keep clean at all times in all things and always dressed resplendently. 

“So what do you think of the dress Audra?” Jane asked, pulling you out of your reverie. 

“It’s beautiful.” You answered as you looked down and appraised it. It was much prettier than the last dress as you walked out into the show room to see none other than Duke Voyambi come in with a few orc women with him and your excitement at recognizing a friendly and familiar face died in your chest as Jane’s words were recalled into your mind. He would most likely only marry an orc woman, you didn’t stand a chance as you looked away just as Duke Voyambi noticed you were here and froze at the sight of you at seeing you there in a new and very fashionable dress, your gold moura marks a sharp contrast of the dark and rich burgundy magenta of your gown and especially to see them around your chest and your back, neck and shoulders and down your arms as you had been turning away from him, he was reminded of his own rutting the night before which he had tried to put out of his head and had hoped that his rutting had been the end of it, but now, all it did was fuel his own flame of desire for you to burn brighter and fiercer. 

“Countess Morrigan.” He greeted you which pulled your attention back to him before you smiled politely at him.  

“Yes Duke Voyambi?” Agnes greeted, thinking he had greeted her, curtseying in place as she plastered on a pleasant smile as you stood just a little straighter before you and Jane also curtsied respectfully to the Duke and his party who also curtsied in response as Jane came to stand closest to you as the Duke could now clearly see the difference between you and Jane, while Jane was also blonde, and fairly pretty in her own right, she was just a little plain next to you. 

“Audravienne, this is Duke Demsey Voyambi, his sisters, the Duchesses, Amara, Kiera and Callie Voyambi.” Agnes introduced as she practically dragged you over to them, her fist tight like a vice over your forearm before she let you go once you were close enough to them.   

“Your Graces, allow me the pleasure to introduce you to Sultana Audravienne Saharrazat, Divana of Kilan of Dorierra,” Agnes introduced you with quite the flourish as your eyes got wider as you looked at Jane who had come with you and was now flanking your left side as you two shared a meaningful look as your cheeks flushed and your ears burned while your moura marks flashed a rose gold for a moment as Jane stared in shock at her own mother. Normally her own mother turned her own nose up at them, but now she was practically pushing you onto them and no longer doubted her parent’s insistence that they needed to get rid of you, she thought they meant only get rid of you to who they deemed worthy, not just...anyone. 

Meanwhile the Voyambi’s were giving each other meaningful looks too as they looked you over curiously while Demsey tried to keep his composure as he realized all mouras must have marks like yours, he just never noticed. You had been stunning in black on Monday but now in brighter colors you were even more ravishing. 

“What beautiful tattoos you have Sultana,” Callie, his youngest sister praised as she noticed them. 

“They aren’t tattoos, they are my moura marks,” you gently corrected her as your marks pulsed rose gold again. 

“You’re a moura?” Callie asked, her eyes and her sister’s eyes growing wide with excitement as smiles bloomed on their faces. 

“Yes, that’s what Dorierra is- is a Moura country.” You answered, letting your moura accent become thicker than usual, since you had worked for the last two years stomping it down to try to sound more English but you could tell Agnes was going to “resell you” as pure moura, so you were sure your moura accent would probably be accepted again in this instance, instead of punished the way it usually was with the Morrigans. 

“Oh, do all mouras have marks like these?” Callie asked curiously. 

“No, most have markedly less, usually just the collar, maybe a feather or two on their backs and shoulders, I am one of the few remaining ‘true mouras’ the purer a moura’s blood, the more gold moura marks they will have, these moura marks would have been my moura cloak and wings before the Gold Death a hundred and sixty seven years ago- that wiped out the entire heavenly moura population and killed off roughly 80% of the world moura population, my family line was spared because we were mixed with human and elven races, but any purer, we would have died out too. So instead of flying the heavens, I just get to wear the reminder of what mouras used to be and what we used to have.” You answered somberly as Jane held your hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. 

“Sultana, you really shouldn’t be so dark, especially with new acquaintances,” Agnes tried to pleasantly chastise you with a forced lighter laugh. 

“Forgive me then your Graces.” You offered as you gave the Voyambis an apologetic smile as Demsey and his sisters were doing their best to remain composed as Demsey’s heart practically crushed inside of his chest as he wondered how a moura as decked out in moura marks as Audra's had been could be found in a brothel of all places. 

"Let's try some more dresses on Ladies." Agnes encouraged as she pulled you away and practically pushed you into the dressing room as she whispered some harsher criticisms to you along the way. 

"Your Graces, I really should apologize for her. She spent her whole life in Dorierra and she hasn't learned our manners and customs as well as she should have by now. But surely your Graces will forgive the Sultana's rudeness." She soothed as she came fluttering back over to them. 

"Oh she wasn't rude at all, she was just being informative. She's really very lovely." Amara reassured her. 

"Well I must say the Sultana would still make the ideal bride. She is so incredibly sweet and kind and caring." Agnes tried to praise.

"Is that the way she was with the Late Count Edward then?" Kiera inquired, doing her best to hide her suspicions from her tone so as not to openly offend the Countess. 

"Oh absolutely, she never left his side and she made sure his final years were spent in the greatest of comfort because that's what she has been bred to do- to cater to a husband and make him feel like a king or a sultan or an emperor even. No one can do better for breeding or brains or beauty than a moura. And the Late Count Edward even afforded her a dowry for her upon his death of 50 thousand pounds. She'll be the catch of the century and her mourning period ends in only twelve days, barely a week and a half from now and she'll be free and clear for the taking." Agnes informed them brightly. 

Now upon hearing that all the Voyambi's practically had their eyebrows shoot up into their hair line. 

“Don’t most people usually have to pay handsomely to the stables for a moura bride?” Kiera countered as in her own mind, red flags were being thrown all over the place.  

“Oh she just fell in love with England, she didn’t want to return.” Agnes lied as the Voyambi’s looked at each other meaningfully again but were discrete about it. 

“Yes, that’s why the Sultana is such a fantastic find!” Agnes insisted.

“Was there a reason why she didn’t return to the stables? I thought most mouras always return to the stables, especially in the case of widowhood.” Kierra probed, trying not to sound too suspicious. 

“Well then it’s a shame that the Duke is already attached to Lady Whitesale, but I’m sure you’ll find an overabundance of suitors for the Sultana.” Kiera urged firmly, even though that was in itself a white lie also but the last person she wanted the Morrigans to prey on was her brother, wolfish people as they were.  

“Oh, I didn’t realize that, forgive my interference then, I would just hate for someone who would be exceptionally worthy to miss out on such a prize as the Sultana,” Agnes offered to save face before she left to return to the dressing rooms to see how you and Jane were getting along. 

“I’ve never seen a trap so firmly set or a more falsely appetizing bait in my life.” Kiera muttered to her brother. 

“It does make me wonder why she didn’t return, the mouras always return, even if they have children, especially because they have children, mouras only leave the nest for a time before they return, they always return,.” Amara mused. 

“Maybe they are waiting for her to marry another and then have a child to bring her back then. Edward was older but not ancient, he could have had another ten or even fifteen years. But he only lasted barely a year with her. Besides, a moura’s beauty is always outmatched by their greed for wealth and power, of which we have little of either, especially compared the wolves of Broadcove. She would probably burn through such a fortune in less than a year because there are no greater golden leeches than mouras, there’s good reason why only royalty have them, for they are the only ones with enough funds to upkeep them, for however long or short you get to have them around.” Kiera practically sneered as they walked over to one of the displays, not knowing you were just on the other side of the very thin wall and could hear every word as you pressed your back against the wall as your gold moura marks seemed duller than usual as you simply pressed your head back against the wall and tried to blink back your tears as you did your best to remain composed. 

“Audra? Are you alright?” Jane asked as she came out to the other dressing room in her next gown which caused the Voyambi’s to gasp softly and hush themselves from over the small wall. 

“Yes of course,” you sniffed and put on a brave smile for her sake. 

“You should definitely get that dress Jane, it’s so becoming, blue is definitely your color, it brings out your eyes, and if your mother will not buy it for you then I insist I will. You deserve to look just as pretty as I do, if not prettier and I have the perfect jewelry to match at home.” You insisted before you brought her closer. 

“For who knows how long your parent’s generosity will last.” You murmured to her which made her erupt into a giggle as she readily nodded in agreement. 

“If it ever stops, promise me, whatever happens, you’ll come visit me yes? Our family ties are about to be broken but hopefully our bond of friendship never does.” You implored her as she eagerly nodded yes as you walked each other out of the dressing room to see the Voyambi’s in the process of discretely scattering away. 

You weren’t sure why you cared so much of what the Duke and Duchesses thought of you, but you hated for them to believe lies, even though you were sure that even if you could scream the truth, they wouldn’t believe you now. They were set against you. 

But at the same time, Callellea’s words still rung in your head, beware of who the Morrigan’s introduced you to, even though you technically already had met at least Duke Voyambi earlier while Jane’s words also weighed heavily on your mind. If the Morrigan’s would not approve of the Voyambi’s, even if the good Duke was interested, if anything happened further, there would be no way for you and Jane to remain friends, for you were sure Agnes and Richard would never let Jane visit you if you became a Voyambi. You had to admit that it was a bad fit all around as you looked over to see the Voyambi’s looking at stockings from across the dress salon’s sales floor as the Duke turned his head to cast another glance your way and your eyes met again. He did not look dangerous to you though. He looked...kind, and pleasant and amiable and a gentle-man, and now all you could do was hope that Lady Whitesale would be good to him and help him build a proper empire and not tear it down as fast as he could build it. 

“Ugh, don’t waste your time or your thoughts on the Voyambis Audra, they’re purists, and would only ever want an orc bride or groom, and Whiteales is one of the very few orcs in high society they are not related to and she is a piece of work and you’ll see that for yourself at the ball at Havenfield.” Agnes urged you as she puffed out the sleeves on your shoulders as you nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t worry Audra, we would never part with you over anyone not worthy and the Voyambis are a far cry from. Come, we will get these gowns too.” She insisted as you could tell it was her feathers that had gotten more ruffled than yours because her plan of dumping you on the first available gentlemen had practically spit it back into her face. 

“Of course Countess, thank you.” You thanked her softly before she grabbed your chin to have you look up at her but the action caused you to rear your head back and out of her reach, looking at her with frightened eyes, fearing she was going to smack you again and that was observed by Demsey and his sisters, all of who had their eyes widened at the implications of that. 

“Like a head-shy horse she is.” Callie breathed as she tried to discretely stare at you from around her brother.  

“Horses only get head-shy when they’ve been hit or hurt. She’s clearly been hurt.” Amara realized. 

“And maybe it’s that- that is the reason she is not welcome back to the stables, head-shy horses are nigh impossible to get into gear. If she’s head-shy, that means she may have been broken beyond fixing and no longer usable by the moura stables, they are a stable after all, they’d sooner turn a horse to glue than rehabilitate it.” Callie empathized. 

“All the more reason not to have anything to do with the Morrigans and especially the Sultana.” Kiera insisted before her brother and other sisters turned to glare at her as Duke Voyambi was ready to march across the shop and take you away from Countess Morrigan in that instant so you would no longer suffer at her hands because you were a victim in all of this, he was sure of it. He just didn’t know how to help as he just watched as Agnes gathered you and Jane up and left before his sisters felt comfortable to try on dresses themselves before Amara took the dressing room you had occupied and found your purse on the floor next to the chair and grabbed it and tried to catch you again but the note from Callellea fell out of it as Kiera practically pounced on it and ran with it after Amara. 

“Sultana!” Amara called after you as you were about to get into the carriage as Agnes was losing patience for you to actually climb into it so she could. 

“You forgot your purse Sultana,” Mara said as she finally handed it off to you once she caught up with you. 

“Oh my goodness, thank you so much.” You thanked her as you readily took it back. 

“And this flew out of it?” Kiera said as she held up the note from Callella from her spot several paces behind her sister which made your eyes go wide in fear which Amara definitely noticed. 

“Uh, that is only a receipt, you can throw it away Duchess, thank you so much for returning this to me,” you thanked them before you quickly got into the carriage as Kiera looked from the note and back to you with a frown. 

“What was that all about?” Kiera asked. 

“Here, give it to me,” Agnes insisted as she reached out for it.

“Oh it’s only a receipt. We’ll throw it away for her, it’s the least we can do.” Amara said as she took the note and discretely threw an actual receipt away into the garbage bin next to her while she pocketed the note herself before they waived you all off as Amara noticed you seemed relieved yet saddened by it, giving the trash bin a longing glance as you passed it before Amara ushered Kiera back into the store. 

“Did you not see the way Aurdra became white as a sheet at the prospect of the Countess having this? It’s important that the Countess not have this.” Amara insisted as she pulled the note out of her pocket to see what it was before all of her siblings gathered around her to try to read what was written on it. 

“I knew it, those Morrigans are wolves.” Amara whispered hatefully as she read it. 

“It still doesn���t explain why the Morrigans are so eager to push the Sultana off.” Kiera argued as she took it and read it for herself before Demsey took it and read it too. 

“I know why.” Demsey volunteered before his sisters looked at him eagerly. 

“When Count Edward died, he left a living for the Sultana and that living which I heard a rumor Count Richard contested, and is most likely how she can afford to keep Mirador on her own as a widow. I don’t know how much it is, but it must be enough for the Morrigans to not want to pay it any more than they absolutely have to, they’ve been stuck with having to pay it while she’s been in mourning. The Count and Countess Morrigan hoard wealth and resources like the world is ending tomorrow, and the Sultana is obviously a leaky drain they wish to stop up. They’re going to be pushing the Sultana off on anyone they can and they’re hoping that putting a price on her head as high as fifty thousand pounds, that it will be enough to tempt anyone and everyone, come that ball and every other social event from now until the end of the season, the Sultana will be the bait in a dog fight.” Demsey realized. 

“But that is not our fight,” Kiera insisted. 

“If she was a jewel orc, which is what one gets when they mix orc and moura together- which we all know are one of two breeds of orcs allowed in the stables, your tune would be completely different Kiera. You’d be the first one to push me towards her and rescue her from them because you don’t like Lady Whitesale any more than I do which she is barely tolerable at best. But because the Sultana is human, elf and moura, you’re against it when she is still, obviously, the victim in all of this. Moura brides have no say so in who they marry, she was married for a year, widowed overnight and then immediately shipped off because it took less than a week between Edward being known as having passed and her moved into Mirador. There is obviously interference between her and the stables for other letters from them to go awry before they reach her. Mouras are social creatures, you isolate one, you weaken it. She’s clearly been on her own for two years by my calculations.” Demsey firmly countered.  

“How would any of us fare if we were isolated from our own kind, shipped off to a country that was alien to us, match us with a stranger and expected everything to be ok? The fact that she is just now learning she has a people here, and it is probably that- that has her fearing Countess Morrigan. It’s what abusers do, they isolate their victims, then make them completely dependent and then dump them and leave them devastated. That is what is happening here. And it also means someone other than the Sultana is keeping her from the stables and other mouras and my bets are on the Morrigans because if she was to go back there, they would not be able to silence her so effectively, you saw her, she couldn’t breathe without the Countess correcting her and breathing fire down her neck. The mistreatment she has obviously endured at their hands must be so great that it threatens what is left of the Morrigan family honor. But the Morrigan’s are obviously fed up with paying for it and because they are old money and old nobility, even if the Sultana and us were to speak out about it, who would believe us let alone her? But it must still be- threat enough, for the Morrigans to try to play nice for now.” Demsey reasoned. 

“So what we are going to do, is we are going to get whatever ribbons and lace and whatever else we need from here, we are going to get lunch, and then we are going to wait for the Sultana to return home, we are going to give this back to her, because this is the only touchstone she has of home she has because while she’s in mourning, she can’t reach out to others, as are the customs here, and then we are going to ask if we can help in any way. Because she obviously needs our help. If she is going to be bait in a dog fight, at least we can deter a dog or two if we can’t pull her out.” Demsey insisted as he folded the note back up and put it into his breast pocket for safe keeping as that seemed to settle the matter as Callie and Amara were proud and pleased for while Kiera simply huffed in annoyance. Her brother’s bleeding heart was going to get him in trouble one of these days.

[gmtmg41]

Alright. I need to get this all out of my head. My anxiety and adhd are running my brain today. And it's been ages since I let it get this bad. Ages and ages.

So, I've been talking with the one person who I think I knows me better than pretty much anyone. Which has made me so happy- I've missed him so much. And I didn't realize how bad it was until I stopped to think about how kind of low-key sad I've been until we started talking. And today we talked about heavy topics.

Some of that was the fact that I sent his 2ife an apology text about a month ago now and she still hasn't answered. And I just wa tes to know if there was even a chance of her ever forgiving me. And I know my husband says that the blame is to be shared and I won't deny it. But I never reached out even though they did. They both tried to reach me. And I just never reached back to them. And I regret that so much. They both mean so much to me but I never let them know what was going on because I was angry and upset. And ashamed. I was so fucking ashamed.

When we first moved to Mass I was so incredibly lonely. And depressed. And maybe a few other words that I've never really said out loud. I shouldn't have been left alone my depression was that bad. And the only thing that got me through the first few months was that I knew travis and tavia would be coming up to see me. It wasn't just for me but I did not care one bit. I was going to see my best friend in the entire world. And it kept me getting up everyday. It made me keep going.

And then I was up here and we were broke. Like eating ramen every meal kind of broke. It was terrible. I hated it. Matt was always at work. And the apartment was terrible. And the dogs were miserable and I was too. And I hated it.

But it was going to be fine. Travis and Tavia were I thought coming out to Worcester to see me. And then they weren't. And they wanted me to come to Boston. And I couldn't. We didn't have the money to make it out there. Not even for just me. And I remember how fucked up it all felt to me. .y best friend was like a hour away for the first time in months and I couldn't even get to see him. And I screamed and broke down. But I never told him that. I didn't let him hear me trying not to cry on the phone. I was a big girl and I didn't need him to come rescuing me. Even though I did. I would do anything to go back and to tell him and tqvia both that I was depressed and I needed them. I needed that piece of home- I needed the people who knew me and would have been able to see the signs of me doing stupid shit that was hurting me.

I think I tried explaining that I couldn't go out there. It's hard to remember all of it. The depression makes remembering it all a bit of a blur. But I didn't get to see them. And I remember breaking down. And this wasn't like. Oh let's have a good cry and be better. No this was a screaming and doing stupid shit kind of break down

This was me hurting myself like I hadn't done since high school kind of break down. I don't think I've ever told anyone that, definitely haven't written it down.

And then I let them disappear. Fuck. I stopped thinking about them because whenever I did I cried for ages and I just couldn't do that all the time. I drank myself into oblivion and threw myself into my new job at BN. Because if I was working or drunk I couldn't be sad. And I made new friends. One who reminded me so much of travis that on more than one occasion I caught myself almost calling him travis.

By the time that I finally realized what I'd done- and how I had lost 2 of the most important people in my life- it was too late. It wasn't. I didn't know that then though. I didn't k ow that if I had only answered one of the dozen texts or messages I could have fixed it. So I sat and was ashamed, and sad, amd a dozen other emotions that I never really processed. And I was angry but I couldn't tell you how to make it stop.

And so I wasted years. I wasted them and ignored messages about how travis missed me. And I never just once reached and said I missed him too. Even though I did. And everytime he posted something about a big life event or not big I broke a little more. And I just kept letting myself break over and over and over and over and over and over and over. For years.

But in April I decided to finally answer him. I'd say I don't know why I finally answered bit 100 percent it was the fact that I had gone to therapy at that point. And my therapist did not put up with the self pity or the ignoring important people in my life. And she made me talk about how i felt like I fucked up eht was probably one of my favorite and most important relationships I'd made. I mean this was the guy that I called at like 3 am to tell that I'd gotten engaged. This wad the guy that when something was great I wanted to tell. And that I wanted to complain yo about boys with when they challenged my nerd card. That when the newest nerd movie from star wars(which he knew the order of my favorites and I knew his), Marvel, DC whatever we had to talk about it. We had to examine every angle. He was the guy that I watched Packers football with- the only person I k ew that didn't say I had bad juju. He was there with me when we had that Cardinals game that I'll never forget.. And I threw it all awY because I was fucking terrible. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life.

I'm not sure what else I want to say in this. I just knew that I needed to get it all out of my head. Because if I didn't I was going to let it all fester which was what I was doing. Like. I had already broken down two times today. Partially because I re-read some of the essays that I ignored where he pours his heart to me saying that he missed me. And I know that I missed him then because I still.miss him. It'll never be what it was I've madd sure of that because well I was terrible and shitty and you can't go back in time.

I don't know. Maybe this will help me in the long run. Maybe I'll be able to be better. Maybe it'll help me fix this. Maybe. I don't know.

[lavendersoft]

Until I met you.

-Street fighter!Jimin x Reader

2/?

Synopsis: While on a date for their 2nd anniversary, Jimin loses Yoongi while being attacked in an alleyway by a robber. Yoongi sacrificed himself for his lover and Jimin could never forgive himself for not being able to do the same. The survivor’s guilt ate away at him over the months and it definitely didn’t help that he saw Yoongi’s face everywhere. In mirrors, dreams, large crowds, on trains, and even when he closed his eyes. Although, Jimin found a way to cope. He began a rigorous training schedule. Boxing, self-defense classes, Tae Kwon Do, he even started street fighting and got caught up with bad people. Anything and everything. His hands would bleed, his muscles would ache, his bones would break. Jimin was offered multiple full scholarships to prestigious martial arts schools for his talent, all of which Jimin turned down. He didn’t want to make a career out of this, he just didn’t want to be haunted by his dead fiancé. The only time Yoongi wouldn’t haunt every moment of Jimin’s life was when he’s training, as if Yoongi is saying “I won’t rest, nor will I let you rest, until you’re stronger.” Jimin will never lose anyone that he loves again.

Everything felt like a downward spiral,

until he met you.

Warnings: (There’s a lot- and it’s kinda dark, be warned) PTSD, implied schizophrenia (sorta? take that with a grain of salt), PTSD induced delusions/hallucinations, depression, paranoia, night terrors, character death, major angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masochism(?), alcoholism, minor gore, mention of drug abuse, mention of blood, mention of sexual assault/ harassment, mention of asylums, profanity, Jimin goes through one hell of a mental breakdown.

Author’s notes: super slow burn :/ basically, in which jimin copes with the traumatic incident of his fiancé’s brutal murder by street fighting. this story isn’t yandere but has dark themes.

“I gave her your number.”

Jimin almost spits out his gator aid in shock.

“You what?!”

The two friends had been kickboxing for two hours now and decided to take a break.

“She’s, like, really into you.”

Jimin’s sighs. He appreciates his friend but a relationship is the last thing he needs at the moment.

It hasn’t even been a year yet.

“And you’re really into her. You’re just the only one that can’t see it.” Jungkook states.

“What are you talking about?” Jimin is genuinely surprised.

“You were oogling over her all night, dude. It was so obvious. Like, you blushed. You actually blushed! I haven’t seen you look at someone like that since-“ Jungkook catches himself before he says the name, Jimin’s glare daring him to go on.

It was true, Jimin knew that. There was something about her, the way she presented herself, the manner in which she spoke, the slight light-hearted sarcastic comments. Something reminded Jimin of Yoongi.

“I’m not ready for another relationship, okay? Just drop it.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow into slits of suspicion.

“Have you been seeing Dr. Bang lately?” The air around Jimin becomes thin at the mention of his therapist.

“Not in a while.”

“What about your meds? Have you had your anti-depressant refilled?”

“No.”

Jungkook sighs, his head hanging low.

“Seriously?”

“I’m not a child, Jungkook.” Jimin scolds. He finishes the conversation by standing and heading towards the shower, leaving a sulking Jungkook.

That night Jimin doesn’t get much sleep. His mind kept wandering over to her face. The way her eyes lit up when he spoke to her. How her voice got a bit louder when talking about dancing.

He used the be that passionate. Now he spends all of his time fighting. He had no time- or need- for passion.

The chime of his phone brings him out of his thoughts.

11:30? Who the hell is texting me at 11:30?

Unknown: Hey, is this Jimin?

Jimin: yeah? Who’s this?

Unknown: It’s Y/n. We met last night?

His heart jumps.

Jimin: Oh, yeah, of course! how are you?

Unknown: I’m great! I was just wondering if you wanted to go see Singin’ in the Rain the musical? I was given two tickets by my dance instructor and just thought since you have a background in dance..? It’s @ 7:00 tomorrow night.

A date? Like an actual date? Without other people? For romantic purposes and not meaningless hookups?

Jimin: Sorry. I’m working.

A lie. He doesn’t even have a job. He lost it months ago, when he started fighting for money.

Unknown: oh, that’s okay. :)

Jimin’s eyes can’t leave his phone screen. They start to burn since the bright screen is such a sharp contrast to his dark room.

Should I...?

He shakes his head and turns off his phone to try to get as much shut-eye as he could, the rancid smell of lingering alcohol surrounding him.

—

The next morning is the normal routine- he gets up, showers, eats, grabs a beer, and makes his way to the gym.

He hits the punching bag just a little harder than usual, though.

Her face doesn’t leave his mind. Her disappointment emits through the last text she sent. He wants to go. He really does.

But he can’t. It’s dangerous. She’s already been able to take over his thoughts in such a short amount of time. No one’s been able to captivate his mind so quickly since... him.

He won’t let himself go down that hole.

-

Y/n: Awesome! I’ll see you tonight then!

Yes. He texted her. It’s not a big deal. It’s just a play. A play he’s wanted to see since he was little.

That’s the only reason he’s going.

They’ve decided to meet at the theater, for that Jimin was grateful. It would save him the awkward first pickup that he’s had to do so many times.

He waits at the entrance door for her, albeit a bit impatiently. It looks as if it’s about to start raining and everyone else is entering and taking their seats already.

She’s late. He hates when people are late. If he had his ticket he probably would have gone in without her. His hands stuffed in his pockets, his foot tapping the ground lightly. He sighs. If she’s not here in the next two-

“Hey, Jimin. You look nice.”

He turns to the sound of the pleasantly soft voice. She’s wearing a black velvet, formfitting slip dress.

No, she looks nice. Better than nice, even. If he were the old Jimin, he would have told her that.

But he’s not, so he only nods in acknowledgment.

“Thank you.”  

He hopes she doesn't notice the healing bruise on his left cheekbone. He doesn't think it's noticeable but yet again, he's desensitized to wounds like such.

They take their seats and to Jimin’s pleasant surprise, they’re close to the front. He can see the entire stage perfectly. When the lights dim and the show starts, he feels entranced. He forgot how much he used to love music. He hasn't listened to a full song on his own time since he gave up dancing. He finds himself almost jealous of the way the actors float across the stage as they dance.

Glancing over, he finds Y/n just as engaged. Her eyes all but sparkle in awe, a small smile etches her face as she watches intently.

She’s glowing.

The play ends too early for Jimin’s liking. He wishes he had a longer opportunity to study her facial expressions more. He doesn't know why she fascinates him so much.

“You hungry?” Her question catches him off guard at first, her eyes meeting his own.

“I could eat.”

“Great. I know a cute little place not too far from here.”

-

The food was gross.

Jimin didn’t care. He didn't care about much these days anyway. She seemed to enjoy it though, so he couldn't say it was a total waste. The way her eyes lit up before closing in delight, humming softly when she spooned in another bite.

“So good.”

“Yeah.” He barely registered the smile that crept upon his face in utter amusement.

She’s pretty cute, I guess.

Then the passing thought jerked Jimin’s attention away.

He’s- no, it’s not here. It’s always here? It’s always lingering somewhere... but...

“You lookin’ for someone?” She questions, although her tone is light.

“No. I’ve just never been here so I’m taking in the ambiance.” It wasn't a total lie. Sure, the food wasn't the best but he’d ordered a glass of wine to compensate for that. Beyond that, the restaurant itself was cozy. It featured fairy lights and wooden fixtures. Various types of greenery adorned the walls and he had a direct view of the patio, which had a fireplace and a decorated oak tree that grew from the cracked pavement. He had to admit that was kind of cool.

“Well, hows the first impression?” She inquires.

“It’s cute, like you said.”

Jimin doesn't know how she talked him into letting herself walk him home, as if he needed a chaperone. But he doesn't argue, he’s too tired- and tipsy- for that.

They turn down the alley that he usually uses as a short-cut. There are always shady men that like to loiter around here but Jimin never pays them any mind. No sane person that knows anything about Demon wouldn't try anything fresh.

Apparently, these guys are new around here.

“Hey, baby, you’re lookin’ like a good fuck tonight. God damn.” A particularly tall man that looks unshowered comments, looking Y/n up and down with a predatory gaze. His equally gross friends become confident enough to start making their own distasteful comments.

Jimin can feel the anger start to boil.

Right as his feet stop walking, she grabs his hand to urge him forward.

“It’s not worth it. Let’s go.” Her eyes seem so desperate and pleading that it satiates his anger, if only for a second. Jimin notices that she hasn't even acknowledged the stranger.

Why won't she just tell him she's not interested so he’ll leave her alone?

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the sharp sound of a hand slap on fabric.

“Damn, baby. That ass is incredible.”

He touched her. He touched her.

“Hey! Who the hell do you thi-” She’s interrupted by a flash of blond hair placing itself between her and the man. Jimin grabs the stranger by the throat and pushes him against the brick wall of the alley. The man’s eyes alight with fear and regret upon finding the strength that the smaller man had stocked away in his more petite frame.

“I think you owe her an apology.”

But the man is stubborn, unfortunately for him.

“Go fuck yourself, asshole. Your girlfriend’s a nasty whore anywa-” He doesn't get the chance to even breath before Jimin lands a hard punch to his jaw.

He felt the string snap. The same string that snaps when he’s in the ring. He sees nothing but red. He hears nothing but the sound his heart thumping in his ears.

The blood flies around him, his focus is only on one thing. Punch after punch, hit after hit, Jimin continues.

Jimin’s knuckles start to ache, his muscles are strained. He really does want to kill this man. He really does.

He probably might have if she hadn't stepped in front of him, her hands on his face.

“Jimin.”

Her face is confident, maybe a bit stern even. But anyone could see that she was concerned.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s go, come on.” She takes his bruising hand, easing him away, her eyes refusing to leave his.

Jimin is still dazed on the walk home but still manages to give her the directions to his house. The first thing she asks for when he unlocked to door was the first aid kit- and proceeded to clean his hands.

No one ever cleaned his wounds after a fight. He’s always had to do it himself.

He observed how her facial expressions would switch from concentrated to relaxed as she proceeded. Then a smirk crossed her face.

“You stare a lot, you know that?” She finishes wrapping his second hand and places in on his lap.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She was so relaxed around him, something Jimin wasn’t used to. “I think you broke his jaw. Not like he didn’t deserve it, though.”

“What happened to the other guys?” Jimin was curious. In his fury, when everything was a blur, he didn’t even realize that the other’s weren’t participating in the fight.

“They bolted as soon as you threw the first punch. All talk, I guess.” She responds with an amused grin.

“Why didn't you tell them?” It comes off a bit more accusatory than he expected.

“What?”

“Why didn't you tell them to fuck off, to stop, anything?”

Her eyes are locked on his wrapped hand in thought before she responds.

“People like them don’t listen, Jimin. Sometimes it’s just safer to ignore.”

Y/n took the silence that comes after as an opportunity to look around Jimin’s apartment. It was small but not cramped. In fact, there was barely anything in the house at all.

Jimin had gotten rid of anything that even remotely reminded him of Yoongi. Everything except-

“Who’s this?”

“Don’t-“ Jimin catches himself before he snatches the picture back from her hands. Instead, he places a hand nervously on the back of his neck, “Um- that’s just.. uh-“

Sensing his discomfort, she places the picture frame back on the shelf where she found it. The picture featured Jimin with his arms wrapped around his blonde boyfriend, a bit too close to be less than lovers.

He visibly sighs in relief.

“That’s my... my f-” The word gets stuck in his throat, refusing to budge.

“Friend. He died not too long ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Were you two close?” Her tone was nothing but sympathetic.

Jimin doesn’t understand the sudden irritation that arises in him. It was a simple, innocent question.

Were they close? Were they close??

“Yes.” He doesn’t realize that he’s been subconsciously playing with the ring on his left hand, “We were very close.”

Jimin doesn’t like newcomers. He hasn’t since Yoongi died. In fact, no one new has even entered his home in months. He doesn’t trust people, because they all leave. He didn’t even like Jungkook’s girlfriend at first, but he got used to her after a while. Jimin used to love meeting new friends, he was the most sociable person out of the group. But he was different from what he used to be. New friends, new relationships aren’t worth it.

His mind flashes to the faces of all the people he’s “dated” in the past six months. All the hearts he’s broken because he can’t return their romantic feelings. All the women who he’s made cry after fucking and ditching them. All the men he’s been yelled at for leading them on. But he doesn’t care.

No one stays, so why make yourself vulnerable to someone that’s not going to be there forever?

He knows it’s only a matter of time before she leaves, too.

“And you want to call yourself a good person? Bullshit.” Jimin gulps.

“Playing with people’s emotions is only something a monster would do. You’re evil. Weak and evil.” The dark growl sounds from behind him, a cold hand is placed on the back of his neck. Jimin’s breath quickens.

“Hey,” She steps forward, and the cold feeling from behind him disappears and it’s replaced with something warmer. Her. 

“Are you okay?” Her face is filled with worry. She must have sensed Jimin’s impending panic. Her hand is on his chest now, it’s comforting. She has to be able to feel his racing heartbeat.

“Yeah, sorry. Just bad memories is all.” He takes a quick, nonchalant look behind him.

But Yoongi’s not there this time.

[neoarchipelago]

Blood Red Marker and Binary Code (John wick x reader one shot)

AN: where was I even going with this? Idk, Anon, I hope you enjoy it ! 

Request: John comes to the reader with a marker, they both love each other but none seems to realize it.

Word count: 3 910

Warnings: cursing, alcohol?

____________

You walked through the enormous hall of the Louvre. The wonderful stone walls, the beautiful ceiling, everything was perfect. The sound of your heels on the floor made you feel powerful, your black dress hugging your curves perfectly. It was after all handmade by one of the best tailors in Paris. You walked through the empty halls, watching every sculpture, every painting that adorned the walls of the museum. You had recently finished a contract and instead of accepting money, that clearly you were tired of having, you asked for another reward. Something unique, that only you would have the right to live, you and maybe Beyonce in her clip, having the Louvre at night only for you. 

You've always enjoyed it, you spent hours watching the numerous pieces of art that made your mind travel through history, time and space. You enjoyed the fact that your work made you able to witness such things with such privileges. You watched as you spun around in the middle of such perfect masterpiece, you felt blessed, you felt powerful like a goddess. That was your name in the underground world. The Goddess. You knew how to fight and you were good at it but that's not how you earned your nickname. You were the best hacker in the world. Nothing could escape you, you were omnipotent. You knew everything, saw everything you had proof and files about everyone in the world, even the High table. Even the most confidential files of the underground that were kept written by hand had to, at some point, be sent through computers linked to the satellite. 

You sighed closing your eyes for a second. You listened to the deafening silence of the building. You only opened your eyes to sit down on a bench, and then closed them again. Yes you were lucky. You had been an assassin for quite a while now. Your phone suddenly rang as you opened your eyes again. You took the phone in your hand and softly smiled at the name. 

"Caleb, why aren't you in bed yet?" You asked a soft smirk on your lips. 

"Oh come on (y/n)! It's not that late!" You chuckled at your brother's whining tone. 

"You have school tomorrow, you have to go to sleep. I'll be home in a minute alright?" You said as you stood up. 

"Wait, I called cuz I need to tell you that someone's here, he wants to see you." You froze and you heart dropped. 

"Who's there Caleb?" You said in a cold tone. 

"Your friend John Wick, remember the one from a few years ago?" 

Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes. How to forget a man like John exactly? He was quite unforgettable. 

"Alright, hand him the phone will you Caleb?" 

You heard the phone being passed to someone and you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath at the sound of the voice you heard.

"(y/n)."

"John. I need to ask you. Are you here to kill me, or my brother?" You said in a cold voice. 

"No. I'd never..." You sighed of relief. 

"Alright, i'll be home in 5 minutes." You spoke, cutting him off.

"I'll be waiting." 

You hung up and walked back to the hall of the museum, the sound of your heels on the floor echoing through the halls and staircase, the only thing breaking the peaceful silence. 

You reached your car, a jaguar F-type, that of course you weren't driving but you had someone driving it for you. After all you've been through you earned it. You smiled at the man. Anyone would have been weird out by him, a tall slim man, with half long hair to the side and completely cut short on the other, tattoos and piercings, and wearing a white shirt with rolled sleeves and a black waistcoat. 

''On part déjà madame?" He asked with a smile yet a confused look. (Are we already leaving miss?)

"Oui Jay', je dois rentrer le plus vite possible, tu peux faire ça pour moi s'il-te-plaît ?" You asked as he opened the car door and you sat down. (Yes Jay, i need to go home as fast as possible, could you do that for me please?)

"Je pensais que vous ne me le demanderiez jamais madame!" He answered with a naughty smile as he closed the door, and you rolled your eyes. (I thought you'd never ask miss!)

He sat down on the driver's seat and turned on the car making it roar. You decided to put on your seatbelt because clearly you might have asked the devil to play with fire. The fast start made you groan but you had asked for it after all. The ride home didn't took long, firstly it wasn't that far and secondly Jay had taken your request very seriously. You felt a bit nauseous when you stepped out of the car, but a few deep breaths and you were back on your heels. Jay' threw the keys to another one of your assistants, and opened the building door for you. You had bought an apartment here on the 6th arrondissement de Paris, in a luxurious building, where the two last floors were yours. You reached the elevator with Jay' and he introduced the key that allowed you to push the button to your apartment. 

You took another deep breath as the elevator made his way up, and looked at Jay' who gave you a wink. You smirked at him. When the elevator doors opened into your hallway you didn't hesitate a second, stepping in, the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floor. You could hear people talking in your living room, and made your way to the two open french doors. You froze at the entrance watching, amazed, the scene that displayed before you. Your little brother Caleb was on the couch, sitting next to John Wick, THE BABA YAGA, playing Mortal Kombat on PS4. You leaned against the door frame, folding your arms and arching a brow at the scene. Jay' suddenly appeared next to you and you shared a look before softly chuckling. Caleb was a sweet boy, he'd make even the worst killer on this planet turn into a child. 

You cleared your throat making your brother jump and John turn to you. Your eyes met his and you tried to avoid blushing as you quickly looked away. 

"I thought I told you to go to sleep Caleb?" You asked while arching a brow at the boy. 

"I know I know, but wait, I just want to finish this with J-" before he could finish his words the screen displayed a large, red 'Game over'. Caleb groaned at the unfairness of the fight before turning off the console. You smiled softly at him as he passed next to you, mumbling a 'good night' to you and John. You took a few seconds before looking back at John, who had now stood up and was staring at you. You felt his eyes roam over your body and you couldn't deny the heat it raised through you. 

You could easily remember how you two had met, in the bar of the Continental. You remember the mess you were in and how things unfolded after that. 

You stepped inside of the living room as Jay' vanished quickly. You got closer to John.

"John…" you said staring at him. 

"(Y/n)." He said sharing your look. 

"What may I owe this pleasure exactly?" You said with a smile. 

He smiled back at you. Jay' entered the room, a wine bottle in hand, and two wine cups. He put them down on the marble and gold coffee table in between the couch and the fireplace where the TV hang. 

"Merci Jay'." You said nodding as he left the room, closing the two french doors. 

"Take a sit, I feel like we have a lot to talk about." You said turning back to John, this time with a serious tone. 

He nodded as you both sat on the couch. You poured two glasses of wine and took yours in hand. John was hesitant and you started to worry when he refused to take his and stared at you. No words had been exchanged yet and you felt the air getting heavier. John reached for his pocket and your breath hitched at the sight of the marker he put down on the coffee table. What exactly were you expecting? That he would never ask for a returning favor ? That he was here for you perhaps? 

The last thought made your heart ache. John would never be here just for you. After all… you were the only one in love here. You looked at him in the eyes as you sighed. He still looked as perfect as the day you asked for his help. Your heart fluttering at the thought. 

"I'm sorry (y/n)." John's raspy voice brought you back to reality. 

"Don't be. That's the deal of having a marker I suppose. It had to happen one day." You said taking a sip on the wine and leaning back on the couch. 

"Your brother has grown." He said again, with a smile. 

You couldn't keep yourself from smiling back. 

"He has, hasn't he?" You said sharing a look. 

"He looks a lot like you." He added.

"Like me?" You said in a chuckle. 

"Yes. He's determined, kind-hearted." John listed as you blushed at the compliments. 

"He is the most important thing in my life John." You said in a whisper, looking directly into his obsidian eyes. 

"I know. I remember." He said in the same tone.

It had been a few years after all those awful events. You were even younger then, alone taking care of a small blue eyed boy that you were trying to keep safe. You and your brother were orphans, and you had quickly put your talent of hacker into the underground world to win as much money as possible. Many appreciated your work and you had won a lot of clients but you also made a lot of enemies. At some point it had become too dangerous to even leave the Continental where you and your brother had a room. He had been a target to get revenge on you and you would have done anything to keep him safe, even get a marker with the Baba Yaga. 

You had met John, who had accepted your marker and helped you get rid of any enemies that wanted you or your brother dead. You remember how you two had become friends, your little brother adored him and you had felt your heart beat faster when you looked into his eyes. You had spent many months together even after that, as friends. Taking care of your brother as you were slowly building your empire. Eventually your paths had gone separate ways, and your heart still aches at the thought. You couldn't deny the feelings that had grown for him since the first time your eyes met. 

The way he made you shiver under his gaze, the way he made you feel safe. You remembered the way it almost felt like you three were a family during those moments. It felt like the world was alright. And then he had vanished, saying he had work to do. You weren't angry at him, after all you knew him for being the Baba Yaga, and you didn't expect him to change at all. 

"So tell me. What do you need me to do?" You asked, pushing away every thought that roamed your head. 

John sat a bit more straight and took a more serious tone. It made you almost shiver to hear his husky voice. 

"I have a contract on a target here in Paris. But he is in a very high security building. Cameras and alarms everywhere." 

You nodded. 

"You need me to help you get through those?"

"Exactly. Is there any way for you to help me through it?" He asked, watching you intensely. 

You thought for a minute thinking about the different possibilities and plans you could go through. It didn't sound that hard, it was perfectly manageable. You nodded to him.  

"When does it need to be done?" You asked again taking a sip of your wine.

"Tonight." 

You slightly choked on your beverage and remembered how John could sometimes be impatient. You sighed, throwing him a dark look. You still had to help him as best as you could. 

"Alright. Follow me." You said standing up. You quickly took off your heels though, after all your brother was in bed, and it was no point on waking him up. You walked out of the living room, being greeted by Jay once again. 

"Aide moi s'il te plaît. Je dois équipé Monsieur Wick avec une oreillette."(Help me please, I need to equip mister wick with an earpiece.) You said, walking to the far end of the hallway, to the door on the right.

Jay followed you nodding as John stood right behind as well. You looked at the digit pad and threw in a your code as the door finally unlocked. 

You stepped into your little cave, your perfect little place. The room was dark, only lit by many screens who displayed various places, people, maps, entire files or even some had just some 0 and 1 running across the screen. A desk was set with a comfy chair, and various monitors were neatly spread across the room with other types of electronics. You sat down on your chair, taking a glance at John who was looking around the room.

"John?" You softly called. 

"Yes?" 

"I'm going to need the address of the building."

He nodded as he walked towards you. You gave him a pencil and a notepad for him to write down the address for you.  You quickly started to do your thing, looking for the IP addresses nearby that location, any possible entry or information on the security the building was provided with. 

"What are you doing?" John asked. 

"Checking if I can grant your wish tonight. I'm checking the difficulty of a possible breach, if the security is high or low. If I can do it tonight or if i'm going to need a bit more of time." 

John stayed silent, but you were too focused on your task to even notice him staring at you in fascination. Jay had noticed, and was smiling from the corner of the room. 

After a few minutes you managed to get enough information on the security system and overall it wasn't so hard to break in. 

"Alright. Let's do this." You said turning your chair to John. Jay approached him, ready to equip him with the necessary attire. 

"You will have this device on you. It's an earpiece. You will be able to hear everything I say, and I will hear you as well. I will guide you with my view on the cameras, as I break down the system bit by bit, or otherwise they'll notice me. Do not advance if I don't give you the order to. John. Are you listening to me?" You asked slightly exasperated. 

"This looks like the matrix. Was is that?" John asked pointing at the black and green screen that had 0 and 1 running all over.

"That is from the matrix. That is my live screensaver John." You said slightly amused. 

He looked at you slightly frowning as you snickered. 

"Are you ready?" You asked. 

"Yes." 

"Do you have your guns?

"What kind of questions is that?" He asked smirking. 

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless. You took a deep breath as Jay nodded your way again, notifying you that John was equipped. 

"Alright. Let's get started. Shall we?" 

010101 •

John had finally reached the building when you heard him speak through the device. 

"I'm here." 

"Alright. Give me 5 minutes and you can walk in." 

You took a deep breath and got to work. You were used to this, but somehow you were slightly shaking as your fingers pushed the keys on the keyboard. John's safety was in your hands. 

"You can go." 

You watched through the many screens, John's path through the building as you, step by step, hacked the security system and the cameras to make it look like nothing was happening. You watched John get rid of every security guard you could warn him of as he slowly made his way up to his target. Your heart was beating unusually fast for the task, as you were more anxious than any previous contract you had worked on. You couldn't deny how seeing John work was turning you on maybe just a bit. He looked powerful. But you quickly shook that feeling away, now wasn't the moment. 

Reaching the level where his target was situated, he stopped right after stepping out of the elevator. 

"Alright. This has much more cameras John. You're going to need to wait a bit longer…" you spoke, getting to work immediately.

"I don't have time (y/n)." You heard him say. 

"Be patient please…" you tried. 

"Thanks for helping, but I got this now." 

You froze as you quickly looked at the screen, seeing John take off the earpiece and… run. You gasped. 

"You...PERFECT IDIOT!" you yelled to yourself. 

It took you a second to react after your sudden outburst of anger. You still managed to get your mind focus on your work. Thanks to John you had to change the plan. You quickly took the task to completely shut down the security system and cameras, leaving perhaps enough time for John to leave the building. One by one each barrier of the security system shut down and finally the entire building was now completely out of security cameras. You left a small virus as a gift, making sure that it would take time for even the best hackers to fix everything. You were out of breath without even really knowing why. You looked around at the room, at the mess you had created. Even you couldn't see where John was now. You just stared in silence, before whispering a few last words. 

"I don't know what would I do if something happened to you John…" 

You stood up and left the room. There was no point in staying there anymore. You heard the distinct sound of the door locking itself behind you. You leaned against it for a second, taking a few deep breaths. Should you go check on him? Was he alright? Was he even going to tell you if he was? Or was he simply going to vanish? You shook your head and walked to your room. You were definitely getting sick of being into that stupid dress that seemed to have lost all it's charm to you in the mere time of an evening. You got into pajamas, some shorts and a matching top. 

You found yourself unable to lay down at all. You just walked back to the living room where you sat on the couch, sipping on that bottle of wine from earlier. The minutes seemed to stretch like hours. You glanced a few times to your phone, hoping for a message at least. You didn't know how to feel. Angry, furious, anxious, or break down into tears. You wanted to kill the man but also kiss him as if it was the last thing you'd ever do. Tears began to overflow when Jay walked into the living room. 

"Madame?" 

"Oui Jay?" You spoke trying to hide your current mood. 

"Monsieur Wick est en bas et désire vous voir." (Mister wick is down stairs and wishes to see you) 

You jumped up when you heard him speak. 

"What?" You asked in disbelief. 

"I let him in. Just in case." Jay said, his voice tainted in a heavy accent, and a smirk on his face. 

You stared at the spot where Jay stood a few seconds ago. John came back? The marker had been fulfilled though. Why? You were lost in thoughts when John's figure finally showed up at the living room's entrance. Your actions spoke faster than your brain and you found yourself throwing him the nearest pillow as tears finally began to fall down your cheeks. 

"What the fuck (y/n)?" John asked, slightly confused by the attack.

"What the fuck? I'm not going to yell because Caleb is sleeping, but you are the biggest idiot I've ever had to meet, do you know that?" You spoke out, trying to sound as angry as possible without yelling, frowning as the tears soaked your cheeks.

"And yet you still wouldn't know what to do if something happened to me…" 

You froze staring at him wide eyed. How in the whole world had he heard you? 

"How..?" You asked confused but unable to move as he stepped forward, still holding the pillow.  

"The device still worked. I had taken it out of my ear but put it back in when I realized you put up a mess in their system."

He spoke as he kept walking to you.

You were staring at him, feeling him get closer and closer. 

"John…" you tried. 

"How long? How long have you been feeling like this?" He asked, now only a few inches from you. 

"What, that I've known that you are an idiot?" You whispered, trying to throw the last remains of your pride at him. 

He simply smirked and wiped one of your tears with his thumb. You closed your eyes at the feeling, too afraid to open them again as you spoake again.

"Since you helped me a few years ago…" 

You knew he was going to reject you, but there's nothing you could do to avoid it now. 

"Silly girl." 

Yes you were stupid, but hearing him say it hurt more than you thought. It was however completely confusing to you when you felt his lips on yours. You forgot how to breath for a moment, or even how to react. His arms had wrapped around your waist, letting the pillow fall down on the ground with a soft 'thud'. You finally responded to his kiss when your mind started to embrace reality again, your hand reaching to touch his cheek. You felt him pull you in closer as he softly bit your lower lip, making you gasp. The taste of his tongue made you feel dizzy, as the passionate kiss seems to sweep you off your feet. You didn't exactly know how long it lasted, but when you pulled apart you were both slightly out of breath. It took a minute before anything was spoken. 

"I never thought you did…" he whispered. 

"Why not? You are the one who got away…" you said, feeling your heart ache at the memory.

"I did… because.. I was getting too attached to you and caleb. And I didn't think you would ever see me the way I see you." His words made you smile. 

"And how do you see me John?" 

"I… love you." You smiled even brighter at his words. Cupping his face with both of your hands. 

"You really are an idiot John, cuz I really love you too." 

John immediately pulled you back in for a kiss that you have been craving for way too many years. Perhaps this time he'd stay.

---------

Tags:

@thatbemyhouse @magdazwolska

[inviouswriting]

From my primal au. A little before the save. Re writing the interactions.

Some smut in here and written mobile will cut later today.

Pairings. Aymeric x Kiya and Divinity x Estinien.

"Kivera. I have been asked to do something. I don't want to do." Divinity speaks knowing the angel can hear her. She feels her presence around her as much as Midgarsormr.

Kivera knows the look too well. She takes her seat next to her love and tugs her in.

"I am aware, her name is on my list." Kivera knows and Divinity looks at her. She knows there isn't much that can sway her once a name has reached it.

"You should have seen him. He was beside himself when he asked me to do it. Like the world is ending for him." Divinity feels a little powerless in her abilities and looks at her guardian for an answer and sees a gentleness in her normally hard features.

"Divinity, you of all people know a soul isn't lost until they have died. If she is still in there... perhaps I can scribble her name off this once." Kivera touches one of the curls that hangs from Divinity's head and toys with the end of it.

Divinity leans into her touch finding comfort. She had missed seeing her face in all the years she spent in the world and before being blind.

"What would you have me do?"

"Treat her the way you did me. With kindness. They're not doomed. Not yet at least. If anyone can pull a soul from the void. It is a healer from beyond a void." Kivera explains and waits for her to understand. A smile on her face.

"Should I tell Aymeric, that there is a chance to save his wife?"

"No, because the off chance it fails. It would drive him more into despair. Now, under my protection. Go and see this soul." Kivera places a kiss on the orange stars that decorate Divinity's face.

It took a few days to reach Dusk Vigil and outside was a group of temple knights, including Aymeric.

Aymeric regards Divinity with a nod, and waits for her to prepare herself. He clasps hisbhands together in a silent prayer to Halone to grant his beloved, Kiya, rest from her imprisonment within the primal.

Divinity gives him a smile and he is unsure why she is smiling. Perhaps it is a warrior of light thing.

"Have faith, Ser Aymeric." Another knight says, and Aymeric sighs as he sees the door close behind the group going in.

"How can I have faith when I sent people in there to slay her. I just pray some miracle brings her back to me. Or at least gives her a swift death." Kivera sees this exchange and something stirs in her. The look on Aymeric's face mirrors her own heartache when she lost Damien.

"You owe me Divinity." Kivera slips into the void.

Inside the heart of Dusk Vigil, Divinity is met with the being Mormo. The Thaumaturges guild thought her destroyed along time back when Kiya was warrior of light.

When Divinity looks at her she sees grief, heartache, and pain in the succubus form. Very thin but the scythe she carried she watches it knowing the reach because of Kivera's preferred weapon of choice.

The fight was hard, and there is as moment when the Paladin with then struck a blow. Divinity without thinking sends a spell of cure to Kiya. Enough light to stir something in the being. She falters and for a moment sees the form change.

"Aymeric! I am sorry!" Quiet sobs are made as she waits for the inevitable.

The knight was about to deliver a death blow.

"Stop! Don't kill her! Let me try something!" Divinity dashes in front of the paladin who scoffs at her for being stupid. But sheathe her sword and backs off.

"If you fail she dies."

"I am aware of that."

Divinity approaches Kiya and kneels next to her.

"Kiya?" She sees her head turn to her.

"He sent you here didn't he? To kill me.. it is like him. Thinking of me in the very end." Kiya says with a sad smile.

"He misses you. I can tell. His eyes give away his feelings. He is hopeful." Divinity tries. The other warriors around keeping their guards up.

"But I have summoned a primal.." Kiya curls in herself feeling the power inside starting to flare up. Divinity places her hands on her shoulders and casts another spell of cure and forms a dome around them.

"You we're trying to do the right thing. You just were misled and guided wrong. And this thing took over you in a moment of weakness. You didn't summon it. She did. And she needs to leave!" A surge of holy is sent through Kiya to expel Mormo out. The knight with them seizes the chance to slay Mormo.

Once the magic dissipates Kiya's magic in her clothing fades leaving her bare. The miqo'te collapses into Divinity's arms and starts to cry into her chest sobbing Aymeric's name and asking him to forgive her until she passes out.

One of the temple knights sees her and offers to carry her.

"I think it best I take her to Aymeric." Divinity takes off her robe and covers Kiya in it before lifting her up to carry her on her back. The paladin shakes her head.

"Softie." And takes her leave.

Divinity approaches the entrance to the dungeon and sees Aymeric's face lit with worry and grief again. He sees Kiya clung to her back fists tight on Divinity's shoulders.

Green eyes peek over the shoulder and sees Aymeric then looks away to the side. She misses the light returning to Aymeric's eyes and joy spreading through him.

"Kiya?! Pray tell me.. My Kiya?" He approaches the side, Kiya looks away flustered and buries her face into the back of Divinity's head.

"Come now, you have something to tell him? You were crying it." Divinity sets her down and Aymeric takes Koya by her shoulders and has her look into his eyes, his hands on both sides of her face so she can't look away.

"Aymeric... I... I am so sorry!!!! Please forgive me!!!" Aymeric's features soften and Divinity witnesses something she hasn't seen in a long time. Pure love. She smiles then laughs when Aymeric tugs on Kiya's face pinching her cheeks.

"My love.... MY love! I will not forgive you for what you did." He sees Kiya's face falter a little and her trying to look away. He holds her still.

"Look at me. Hey, look at me." Aymeric presses his head to hers, Kiya is hopeful in her eyes.

"You can spend the rest of our lifetime together making it up to me." Aymeric says. Kiya smiles warm and Aymeric wraps his arms around her and pins her to the floor to kiss her ignoring her yelps of the cold under her.

Kiya returns the kiss, her arms wrapping around Aymeric's neck enjoying the kiss, she missed his feel and warmth.

Divinity glances over to a mirror and sees a flit from it, she smiles to herself and shakes her head.

Aymeric lifts his wife into his arms and carries her to Ishgard. Once safely seated and looked at by Whitecape. He turns a stern expression on her and pinches her face again.

"Do you have any idea how much you put me through?! What I set after you?" He squeezes her face in small tugs and ignores the sputters and protests from her.

"I'm sorry!!!"

"You better be! I am not letting you go so easy now. Three years. Hear me? Three years. No magic and no traveling. Till you are strong as you were." He pinches the end of her face again and then kisses her again. Soft and sweet.

"Understood?!?"

"Yes Aymeric!"

"Yes Lord Commander Ser Aymeric!" He corrects her.

"Yes! Lord Commander Ser Aymeric!!" She says again. Once she agrees he holds out his hand to her.

"Soul crystals." Aymeric says and Kiya hands them over to him. She runs her face and sees him tuck them carefully away in a pocket.

His expression is alot softer now and he climbs into the bed with her due to it being night. He was wearing his alpine coat and removed his boots before laying next to her.

Kiya was about to say something but is cut off with sweet kisses and him putting his ear to her chest to her her heartbeat. She then feels warmth from tears.

"Godsdamn you... I thought I was going to have to plan your funeral. I thought you were eternally lost to me." His grip on her tightens and she feels pangs of guilt in her soul. Her hands go into his hair soothing. Aymeric looks up at her from his spot and let's her comb through his hair till she touches his ears in apology.

"My dearest Aymeric. I never intended this to happen..." Kiya sees him shift up and further wraps his arms around her guiding her onto her back to lay with him. Holding her he realizes how thin she is now. He was told it would take her a few months to recover the weight loss from being without food for a few years.

It would take her years to recover her fighting strength. Kiya fits into his arms, and he has her on his side facing him

His hands going through her hair as if he can't believe she is there again.

"I know you didn't intend it. I want you to tell me everything at a future time. When you have rested some. Now sleep in my arms please." He coaxes her down and wraps her in his arms.

Kiya falls asleep soon after she listens to his slightly raised heartbeat. Kisses left on her head.

In her dreams she is visited by something. Kiya sees something shown to her, the last two years of her beloved. How Aymeric was told about her becoming a primal the look in his eyes as he decides to barricade off Dusk Vigil and hold it till a new warrior of light steps forward. How he spent his nights alone, chasing off propositions from others. The years hard in his grief, burying himself in work itself. It felt like watching someone lose their faith in life. When Aymeric met Divinity she hears the heartbreak in his voice when he asks her to take care of Kiya, to hopefully not make her suffer.

When Kiya awakens with a start she has tears streaming down her face, her startle rouses Aymeric who felt her peer into the past from the echo. He doesnt say anything only pulls his beloved back into his arms and underneath him to kiss her.

Divinity smiles from the doorframe and takes her leave. She bumps into another, Estinien. She pulls him with her, to give the pair privacy.

Divinity drags Estinien with her till they are outside the forgotten knight. She only gives him a quiet look, and he follows her knowing for what.

Estinien is led to her room and within it the first time he can take her. Tangled with her arms and legs. Drawing any sound and breath out of her. The feel of her on him.

They're not the only pair that night to experience highs. Kiya feels a different gentleness in Aymeric that night close to the first time he took her. He was cautioned on loving her to be gentle and only when she desires it. He found her wanting him and he missed her in his arms underneath him. His name breathed out in quick pants. Hers on his lips as he feels her for the first time in years.

Aymeric holds one of Kiya's hands by her head as he thrusts into her. Each movement in his hand tightens till she writhes in pleasure from him.

Kiya feels more loved when Aymeric let's go of her hands to wrap his arms around her and pull her into each movement he makes till he spills in her.

With Divinity she feels things she has never felt before in hands teasing her and her own hand held across her back with one of Estinien's.

His other hand ghosts down the middle of her spine tracing it. Feeling a sense of his own wonder at how he got there. Divinity peaks first in a hiss of pleasure and he follows her afterwards.

They lay next to each other wordless, Divinity with a calm expression to her bright eyes. Estinien wants to prod questions out of her but takes the silence instead.

With Kiya, she feels worn out and her mind numb to all else. She feels blissful, and Aymeric watches her face for anymore turmoil to her. His left hand stroking Kiya's face in soft circles on her cheek till she is lured to sleep again.

Aymeric places one more kiss on her face.

"I swear I will protect you better now."

[dream2bu]

It was Christmas Eve 1942. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas.

We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Daddy wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Daddy to get down the old Bible.

I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Daddy didn't get the Bible instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon he came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now he was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew he was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my coat. Mommy gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what..

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Daddy was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Daddy pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed.

"I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.

Then Daddy went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. I asked, "what are you doing?" You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. Mrs.Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?

Yeah," I said, "Why?"

"I rode by just today," he said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, he called a halt to our loading then we went to the smoke house and he took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.

"What's in the little sack?" I asked. Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Mrs.Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Daddy was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was he buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?" "Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?"

Mrs.Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Mrs.Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

"We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Daddy said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then he handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children - sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at my Daddy like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," he said. Then turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.

My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Daddy handed them each a piece of candy and Mrs.Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of my Daddy in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Daddy had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Mommy and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Daddy insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. My Daddy took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Daddy and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door he turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.

Mrs.Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Daddy turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your Mother and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough.

Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your Mom and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Daddy had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. He had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Mrs. Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, Whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside of my Daddy that night. He had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life..

[yaachtynoboat711]

Our Next Guest...

A/N: Here’s my contribution to @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots With Love, From Wakanda fic fest! I’m so excited to temporarily break from Fonder’s angsty chains and coming with that present-day Yaa and Wins! I apologize for the tardiness of this fic, as I started my new job this week. I had to dust this off from the depths of my archives due to the time crunch. I was going to do my M’Baku x OC, but my time was limited.

Word Count: 2.4K

Warning(s): Fluff, Black Love

Prompt: “Have I mentioned how much I love you? Only twice in the past hour.”

“Chris, I’m fucking terrified.”,you huffed.

You were in your dressing room getting ready to finally begin your Sheimbloom press junket. The first stop was Jimmy Kimmel Live, one of your favorite talk shows. You’d been delaying the tour for personal reasons. Now, it was here and you were going alone. Winston was in the middle of a project in New York. Plus, it was Valentine’s Day. It sucked knowing that Winston couldn’t make it, however,it was worth knowing that he was being supportive and giving you advice on TV interviews. You’d had many a print interview, but never a TV interview.

“Baby, you’ll do fine. You’re a lawyer: you orate for a living. Plus, you love Jimmy, so this’ll be a breeze.”, Winston reassured via FaceTime.

“Yeah, you’re right...I guess.”

“You’re damn right I’m right. I can’t recall a time I was ever wrong. ”

“Well shit I can.”, you smirked, earning an annoyed huff and eye roll from your fiancé.

“ANYWAYS, are you going to indirectly promote Us?”

“Hasn't it already been promoted enough?”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean,Yaa Denae?” One of the production assistants walked in at the perfect moment.

“Dr. Abdullah, we’re ready for you.”, the PA said.

“Well, won’t you look at the time! I love you, baby love!”,Yaa said in a hurry.

“I love you, too, Pumpkin. Gimme love.” The two of you did your secret handshake despite the distance and he hung up.

“K.D., you two are just too cute for words.”, your assistant Talia gushed as you handed her your phone.

You walked out of your dressing room along with Talia and your other assistant Jacqui to the backstage area.

When you got backstage, you found a mirror to check yourself out and posed for your OOTD post. Winston picked your outfit: simple black blouse with matching flared pants and a Tuskegee crimson and old gold striped ascot (your choice,of course). He even picked out the leopard pumps. That man had an eye for fashion. Your curly platinum locs were pulled neatly into a ponytail.

“Dr. Abdullah, you’re up in 60 seconds!”, you heard the PA announce. “Thank you!”, you replied. You took this time to recite your affirmation to yourself:

I am enough;I am here for a reason;I am here to slay; I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams!

Finally, you walked into the elevator as you heard the countdown and studio applause before hearing Jimmy’s introduction. “Welcome back! Our next guest is no stranger to shattering glass ceilings. In addition to graduating valedictorian of Yale Law School at the age of 23,yeah, twen-ty three, this past July, she became the youngest and the first Black woman to win the Richard T. Sheimbloom Award for Merit and Excellence in Law--the highest award for any lawyer in the world to receive. Please, help me welcome for the first time, Attorney Khalida Abdullah!”

The audience erupted into cheer, but not before the elevator door slid open to you doing that little Thotiana jig. You waved to the audience and gave them your brightest Miss Tuskegee smile. You strutted your way towards Jimmy and hugged him before sitting down. “Well...”, Jimmy began, “...happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to the show, Attorney Abdullah.” The audience continued their clapping and cheering.

“Thank you so much,Jimmy! Happy V-Day to you! Please call me K.D.. Can I just say that one, this is a dream come true to be on the show and two, I need to carry this audience in my pocket because they really--” they all screamed and you smiled as you glanced towards the audience once more, “--they really helped me overcome my nerves just now and this energy y’all are giving me is every damn thing to me.”

“Well, I’m happy that’s something that helped ease you. So let’s jump right on in: what made you want to become a lawyer?”

“You know, not a lot of people have asked me that question.”

Jimmy’s head bucked back in disbelief, “Really?”

“Yeah, so believe it or not, the OJ trial inspired me to go into law. I was about 5 years old and I see Johnnie Cochran, a Black man, and Marcia Clark, a woman, working the case. I guess I was trying to figure out why weren’t there any Black Women working this case. Even after the case, I didn’t meet a Black female lawyer until I was in college. Sometimes, you gotta be your own role model.” The audience applauded your answer.

“That’s something to really live by. Now fast-forward to this past July: what’s going through your mind before and after hearing your name called for the Sheimbloom?”

“Maaaaan, I was a complete wreck and a tad tipsy from the wine they put on the table. I had my umi and Winston’s hands in vise grips. For clarification, Winston Duke, y’know…”,you looked dead into camera 1, “...THICC DADDY M’Baku? Anyways, everything’s going in slow motion, so my reaction was about 10 seconds slower than what it should’ve been. Now, the Chairman didn’t actually announce my name per se.”

Jimmy and the audience laughed. “So...are you the 2018 Sheimbloom winner or not?”, he joked. “Jimmy, listen! Winston, along with some of his fellow Jabari actors, started barking like they did in the Warrior Falls scene? It wasn’t until Winston let go of my hand and literally took his scarf to bark did I realize I’d won.” The audience cheered as a picture of your raw reaction to winning appeared on the screen behind you. Your red eyes were bugged out, mouth ajar, both hands placed on your chest. That feeling of victory began tingling throughout your body all over again .

“How’s life after winning?”

“To be honest…I don’t really feel that much different. I worked that Monday after the ceremony and up until the middle of August because my partners essentially forced me on leave and sent me to L.A.”

“Why would they do that?” The audience laughed. You did too.

“Honey, I had been working like a madwoman from October up until they put me on leave.”

“Ah-a. So that leads me to the next question: what happened that night?” You smirked.

“Well, after giving my speech, I got whisked upstairs to take pictures with my award.” The screen behind you showed a picture of you holding your award up to your ear like a cell phone with one hand and showing off your rose gold slugs by pulling on your bottom lip with the other. You were squatting down and showing off your red sparkly pump.

“That’s one of the most epic pictures I’ve ever seen. What happened next?” The audience gassed you up with “Ow’s! and whistles..

“Wellllllllllllllll”, your toothy smile should have been the indication that it was about to go down, “I sneak away to the terrace for a breather because God knew I needed it. I’m out there and my Winston texts me asking me where I had gone, right? Long story short, he proposed. Afterwards, socialized for a little bit, and then Wins and I went to our favorite 24-hour diner like nothing even happened that night. So, that’s another reason I was out here in L.A.: he still lives here and we needed time to begin planning the wedding.” The audience went crazy with applause.

“So how’s the planning coming,”

“Uhh...it’s proving to be harder than we initially estimated. We don’t live together—he’s here in LA and I’m in DC. So with that being said, we can’t just meet at a central location at lunch and talk about flowers and what not. He’s big money now with his ever-filling schedule and I’m doing the damn thing too so we can’t just break. We try to reserve a weekend every month to devote our time and energy to planning. The few times we’ve actually come together, progress was def made.”

“One more question before the break: when’s the wedding date?”

You looked at him with your usual “Really, nigga?” face. “C’mon, Jimmy. I can’t just disclose something personal like that. We don’t want our special day to be a media circus. But the only thing I will say is that it’s in 2020.”, you teased.

“We’ll be back after the break.” The audience applauded until the director yelled “Cut!”

—————

“And we’re back! I’m here on this Valentine’s Day with the incomparable Khalida Abdullah, attorney and activist. Now earlier, you mentioned that your fiancé is none other than actor Winston Duke, who’s been on this show before.”, Jimmy explained. The ladies in the audience swooned.

“That’s correct! He’s currently doing press for his upcoming movie Us. Y’all should hit it up next month.”, you responded, trying to conceal the goofy smile forming.

“So one thing I failed to mention before the break was that you two are gracing the cover of Essence Magazine’s Black Love issue.”, Jimmy announced. The audience cheered. He propped the advance copy up that showed you and Winston posed together and serving faces.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, is it difficult being in a relationship with a man of growing international status?”

“Well, damn. I never even thought about that. Ummmm...no. If anything, our relationship is growing stronger. Life after Black Panther has, in a sense, caused us to strengthen our communication. I believe that our mutual communication is our greatest asset. We literally text each other our daily schedules and we have each other’s events and event reminders in other’s phones. We’re very transparent with one another.”

“So you don’t get jealous with other ladies throwing their panties at Winston?”

You shot Jimmy an unimpressed look. “Why get jealous when he’s in mine all the time?”, you said unphased, shrugging your shoulders, crossing your legs and drinking from your mug. The audience hooted and hollered.

"Welll, here's an Instagram picture of the two of you. Not quite like we just discussed but very cute. Does he get tired of the graduations and celebrations you drag him to? You taking his shine?"

A picture of you two came on the screen. It was the Instagram picture the two of you took at your graduation dinner this past spring. In your beautiful red off-shoulder African dress and doctoral cap and he in his khaki seersucker and unbuttoned white dress shirt, the two of you jokingly did the “prom pose” and he was kissing your neck. Your signature smile and red lip were on full display as you were mid-laugh. The audience awed as they felt the warmth and love you two shared in that moment.

“Nahhh...in his mind, he sees us as equally yoked. Whatever hustle I have, be it a speaking engagement, an award, or anything, he’s cheering me on 125%, and the same goes for me. So with anything in our lives, you’ll see one go all the way for the other. Metaphorically, no one has a bigger head between us.”

“But in the literal sense?”

“Oh, it’s definitely his ass.” Everyone including yourself burst out laughing. “Plus, it doesn’t hurt that we’re good arm candy for each other for events. I mean, look at us!”, you said enthusiastically as you pointed at the picture.

“Well, one more thing before we go: what’s on the agenda for Valentine’s Day?”, Jimmy inquired. You carefully thought about your answer. The thought of being away from your Teddy Bear on Valentine’s Day sucked ass.

“Well, unfortunately, he’s on his way to New York to tend to some business. Buuuut, in a perfect world, I’d be rushing to finish this interview and get ready to go out on a date or stay in, get into our pajamas, and watch Forensic Files all night long.”

“Well, once again, happy Valentine’s Day and congratulations on everything you’ve accomplished. Khalida Abdullah, everybody.”, Jimmy concluded. The audience stood up and cheered as you and Jimmy chatted it up until yhe break.

“Annnnd cut! Great job, Khalida!”, the producer yelled over the PA system.

“Not bad for your first interview.”, Jimmy complimented. You thanked him for the opportunity and were escorted backstage.

Jacqui was the first of your staff to welcome you backstage. “K.D. (you hated formalities with your staff), that was amazing! It’s crazy to think that you were terrified right before this and now look at you: mastered it like it was nothin’!”, she said as she hugged you deeply. You’d thanked her and you started walking back to your dressing room.

“I just wished that Wins could’ve been here, y’know?”, you whispered loud enough so Jacqui could hear. You opened the door and it hit something heavy, the door’s impact sounded as though the victim may have been a person. Your face scrunched in curiosity and your native New Orleans kicked in for this very moment. “Bitch, who the fuck?!”, you yelled. You stepped back to make sure you were going to the right dressing room. Yup, this is my dressing room. You slowly opened opened the door again.

Your confused expression remained on your face as you heard Ed Sheeran’s Perfect playing softly. The lights were dimmed just enough that you could see Winston standing in the middle of the room looking the fuck good as usual. You ran to him, tightly hugging his torso. He took in the sweet scent of your loc oil and perfume and kissed the top of your locs. He could feel your chubby cheeks complimenting your candy apple red smile.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Pumpkin.”, he whispered.

“You raggedy as fuck. Just want you to know that. I love you though. ”, you clapped back.

“I love you, too, but hoooooow?!”, Winston looked down into your teary light brown eyes. “New York, Winston? Really?”, you answered.

“Denver, Khalida? Really?, he shot back.

Silence. “Touché.”

Your staff recorded the entire exchange. Praise the ancestors for them. You looked over to the counter to see a large bouquet of your rose trifecta and Tropical Skittles, your personal favorite candy. Your favorite snack was sporting a burgundy suit with a tan turtleneck.

“Now, I was in a crunch trying to get here, but I figured you’d appreciate the Tropical Skittles over the originals, even though Skittles are your favorite regardless.”, he explained. You shook your head as you heard his explanation.

“God, I love you, Winston.” He kissed your fivehead before giving your lips the same attention.

“I love you even more, Pumpkin.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?”, you asked.

“Only twice in the past hour. ”, he teased. “Now come on—it’s half-past 4 and we need to get ready for the night ahead of us.”

“Welp, there goes that Forensic Files binge-a-thon I bragged about.”

Tag Listiana 🤷🏽‍♀️

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy-deactivated2 @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @hoopshoney @purple-apricots @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @supersizemeplz @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

[spideycents]

B-Roll // Shawn Mendes - 9: still rolling

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Table of Contents

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I'm over-thinking everything.

Allen is quiet, but the sun did just rise so I don't blame him. He only has a few tattoos and they're small so it's not a big job.

But I am over-thinking everything.

Nothing with Allen. He's fine.

I'm still thinking about Jake. I had too big of a reaction to him and I'm annoyed. I hate that I let him get to me. I'm usually much better at keeping my walls up and just ignoring him and moving on. He's said worse. He's done worse. I've dealt with worse. Today was practically nothing. I mean, he was actually weak today. He was off his asshole game. They weren't even good insults.

Is he right though? Am I on my period?

No.

God no. I'm not doing that. I'm not letting him have this. He's not right and he will not make me doubt myself.

But I'm still thinking about him, what he said. Why? This is so stupid.

I don't know why today is a particularly bad anxiety day for me, but you know, here we are.

Gah, I'm such a mess. I'm just the worst.

Why does Jake even bother with me? There are so many other people he could torment! Why he gotta pick me?!

"Do I have a really big pimple or something?"

I pause right before resting my brush against Allen's jawline and look into his eyes. "What? No, you're good."

A crease appears between his eyebrows. "You sure?" he presses.

I nod, "Positive. Not a bump in sight."

He sighs. "Good."

I go back to evening his skin tone.

"Cause you looked really bothered," he continues. "And I was worried it was me."

"Oh no, it's not you," I assure him. "It's just one of those days, you know?"

"Monday?" he adds.

"Yep."

Maybe it is just Monday. Monday's are usually especially sucky.

In an effort to try to turn the day around, I'm more talkative than normal for the rest of the morning. Allen and I talk about life. He tells me about his career so far in small indie movies, that this is the biggest movie he's been a part of, his favorite film festival is SXSW because he loves that it's a celebration of all kinds of art, not just film. I tell him about working as an extra for the past couple years and why I suddenly decided to get into makeup.

"Is it your dream to be a makeup artist?" he asks while we're hanging out at crafty between setups after lunch.

I shrug while I grab a few bags of gummies. "Not really."

"What is your dream then?"

"I honestly don't know. I haven't decided yet."

"Then why are you doing this?"

I pour myself a cup of water from a cooler while he sips tea from an Einstein Bros. thermos he brought from home.

"Because it's something I know how to do and I'm good at it." I smirk as I add, "and it pays the bills."

I think he's trying to get some deeply profound and bullshit therapy monologue from me, but it's not going to happen. I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life or what my goals are. This is just where I'm at right now and it's what I'll be doing for the next month or so. I'm taking things day by day right now.

At some point, Allen's questions become too much for me and I escape to my chair in one of the classrooms down the hall from the library where they're filming. The cast has a classroom for holding and the crew has another right across the hall. Crafty is in the hallway between the two. Since I was one of the last people to wander over here at the beginning over the day, my chair is nearest to the door. I'm definitely going to move tomorrow because, as sweet as Allen is, he tries to catch my eye every time I look up and you know, sometimes people just want to be left alone.

I'm responding to a text from Michael asking how the day's going so far when a loud cackle echoes down the hallway, quickly squashed by a harsh "shhh" from someone else.

As a group of guys enters the room, I look up and instantly regret it.

Jake's eyes connect with mine for a brief second before he looks away, but unfortunately for me, he does a double-take and walks back a few feet and stops in front of my chair.

"Sup?" he nods at me as he leans against the wall.

I roll my eyes. "What do you want?"

We both speak in hushed tones so our voices don't carry.

He puts a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt, Lyla. Maybe I just want to spend some time with my old friend."

I want to laugh. "When were we friends?"

He pouts. "We're youth group buddies. We have to stick together."

"I haven't even looked at that church in 5 years," I say flatly. "What do you really want?"

"Fine." He steps away from the wall. "You want me to be frank?" He stands with his feet apart and his hands folded behind his back. His voice is clear when he says: "You owe me."

I laugh, but I keep it quiet. "I don't owe you a thing. Go bother someone else."

He doesn't leave, doesn't even flinch.

"How are you even here?" I ask. "Weren't you an extra? We wrapped them all on Friday."

He puffs out his chest slightly and flicks his nose with his right thumb before smirking at me and folding his arms over his chest. "They needed another wardrobe assistant."

"Bull," I laugh. "There are at least 10 wardrobe people. That's enough."

"Apparently it's not," Jake's tone shifts like he's talking to a little kid.

"Leave me alone Jake," I say again.

I think he stands up straighter and plants his feet firmer into the floor.

"I don't take orders from you," he says.

"It wasn't an order," I correct him, "but if you took it that way, that's your problem. Not mine."

His hands drop to his sides, his fists are balled. He opens his mouth to retort, but he's cut off.

"Hey Lyla," Shawn steps up behind Jake and we both look at him. "They need you on set."

Um...

They most certainly do not. They’re rehearsing with second team right now.

What are you doing, Shawn?

"No, I don't think they do," I say as I shake my head slowly.

Shawn's looking right into my eyes and I catch the subtle flick of his eyebrows and the urgency in his own eyes.

"I mean," he says. "Kevin told me to come get you."

"No, I didn't," Kevin speaks up from across the room.

I pull my lips in to refrain from giggling.

Shawn's as red as a tomato.

"If someone really wanted me," I joke. "They'd have sent a PA, or come themselves before they sent an actor. Especially you."

Shawn's jaw tightens.

I might have taken that too far.

He continues: "They need you f-"

I widen my eyes, a nonverbal plea to get him to stop, and Shawn's nostrils flare when he stops talking. I try to soften my gaze so he knows that whatever he thinks is happening, isn't. But, I'm not sure he's getting it.

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rise and fall. He hasn't broken the eye contact once.

"Can I talk to you?" he asks calmly and when I pause for a few seconds, he adds: "Please?"

I have two choices. First: refuse and keep this up until he gives in, which probably won't happen. He seems fairly stubborn, so he'll probably end up making a scene or dragging me off with him. So, really, I'm left with the second option: go with him.

I really don't want to do this right now, but I clearly don't have a say in the matter.

I stand up and follow him, without acknowledging Jake. Who is apparently bothered by this, because he whispers as I pass:

"Tell your boyfriend to stay out of other people's business."

If it were physically possible to breathe fire, he'd be a pile of ash on the floor right now.

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Happy International Women's Day from Lyla and all the kickass women in this story!