#I’m very pleased about the dice lamp

[dice-hoarder]

Not the best picture but I now have a dice lamp!

#polyhedral dice #dice #dnd dice #I’m very pleased about the dice lamp #it has almost all the sets I’ve bought expect for like 4 I think? #but they’re the special sets cause 1 is a gemstone set and the others are from other dice makers

[queerdraws]

Cleaning Out the Rooms - a Harry Du Bois playlist Alcoholism, getting better?, memory loss, being a superstar, The Final Dream, forming political opinions, bad breakups, past transgressions, being a strange and inconsistent being, and persisting despite it all 26 songs (r-slur warning for Turnin’ on the Screw - QotSA)

including: David Bazan, They Might be Giants, The Mountain Goats, British Sea Power (of course), Queens of the Stone Age, and more.  Full track listing and lyric excerpts under the cut

---- Turnin' on the Screw - Queens of the Stone Age (This is the opening track on Era Vulgaris, seemed like an appropriate opening song / introduction to Harry's general essence) ----

... They say those who can't just instruct others And act like victims or jilted lovers You can't lose it if you never had it Disappear, man, do some magic

Want a reason? How's about because You ain't a has been if you never was

I sound like this

Scared to say what is your passion So slag it all, bitter's in fashion Fear of failure's all you've started The jury is in, verdict: r******d

I'm so tired, and I'm wired too I'm a mess; I guess I'm turning on the screw

---- Bless this Mess - David Bazan (Harry being a drunk and a general mess, things going in cycles) ----

God bless the man who stumbles God bless the man who falls God bless the man who yields to temptation God bless the woman who suffers God bless the woman who weeps God bless the children trying her patience Trouble getting over it Is what you're in for So pour yourself another 'Cause it'll take a steady pair of hands Holy or unholy ghost Well now I can't tell, but either way you cut it You should get some distance if you plan to take a stand God bless the house divided God bless the weeds in the wheat God bless the lamp hid under a bushel I discovered hell to be the poison in the well So I tried to warn the others of the curse But then my body turned on me I dreamt that for eternity My family would burn Then I awoke with a wicked thirst

---- Don’t Sit Down Cause I’ve Moved Your Chair - Arctic Monkeys (general Harry vibe.  off-kilter) ----

Break a mirror, roll the dice

...

Find a well-known hard man and start a fight Wear your shell suit on bonfire night Fill in a circular hole with a peg that's square

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

...

Bite the lightning and tell me how it tastes Kung fu fighting on your roller skates Do the Macarena in the devil's lair

But just don't sit down 'cause I've moved your chair

---- I've Been Seeing Things - They Might be Giants (feels very Harry's detecting style, surreal happenstance) ----

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things Don't have answers but I've got lots of questions

Carpool's up, someone gets out Hand someone else a violin case I'm trying not to let them see me looking at them But I'm pretty sure there was a dollar sign

Keep your eyes peeled and you'll see stuff Which at first seems like unimportant irrelevant things

Can't just ask some perfect stranger "What are you hiding in your violin case?" Shadow them at a distance instead Try to get inside their head

Where'd they go now (Where'd they go now) I got distracted (I got distracted) Begging me to stay (Begging me to stay) Wearing a disguise (Wearing a disguise) That lady (That lady) Must have ditched the kid (Must have ditched the kid) Hidge the down (Hidge the down) [???] What's she up to now? (What's she up to now?) Trembling cold by the airport road Watching them stack containers in rows Seagulls, helicopter, windblown trash Something doesn't add up

I've been seeing things I've been seeing things No one asks but I'm packing all kinds of attention

Later I'm watching a news report Camera pans across a crime scene Unremarked upon detail Empty violin case Okay maybe not the same case Different material, different color Still you have to wonder Am I the only one who knows

I've been seeing things

---- Music is the Victim - Scissor Sisters (breakup Harry.  drug-addled disco Harry) ----

I left my heart in San Fransisco It's at some motherfucking disco The people there where dancin' on it And that's including Ms. Matronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

Of your bad fun Money's all gone but you need some Lover's on the phone but they got none Daddy ain't home from the dog run And you're riding through the city with a shotgun

I left my bag in Pasadena Where all them girls was doin' Tina Them bitches sure were crunked up on it I said I'd rather smoke some chronic

Hell if music is the victim then so am I Of lovin' and a cheatin' the snake gon' bite I beg and I scream and I cuss and I cry If music is the victim then so am I

---- Down to Your Soul - Right Away, Great Captain! (about the Final Dream and pre-game Harry) ----

And I see things I actually don't see. I knew it wasn't actually you a few feet from my reach. I looked into your eyes and I began to lose my teeth, And I felt you were dreaming the same thing.

And I know you don't know what I'm capable of But if you give me just one more minute I'm sure That you would be shaking right down to your soul And I'd hope that the fear of the lord brings me home. I'm a man in a body of water so tall Could swallow you whole and forget where he's going But I carved a map in the back of my arm Don't worry I'm coming home I said don't worry cause I'm coming home

---- No Surprises - Radiohead (suicidal harry, pre-game.  Maybe immediately before the game.  A little Big Communism Builder) ----

A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy Bring down the government They don't, they don't speak for us I'll take a quiet life A handshake of carbon monoxide

And no alarms and no surprises

…

This is my final fit My final bellyache

…

No alarms and no surprises, please (get me out of here)

---- Cleaning Out the Rooms - British Sea Power (The instrumental part seems to have been used / referenced for a background music track.  And also the name of that one thought project. as expected, it fits beautifully.  Wake up in a new life, down by the seaside.  Cleaning out the rooms.  She’ll be coming soon.) ----

Where life is good in a way Swept away upon our hearts, in cold coal ceremonial On a rainy day, hang it up Get the vacuum and suck it in Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up Dark cloud, drifting out of view I'll never know, she'll be coming soon, that is all I'll wake up in a new life, ship shape and shoe shine Cleaning out the rooms, I'll clean it up She'll be coming soon Drifting into view, way in the west, white cloud If everybody knew, I never knew, she'll be coming soon I'll wake up in a new life, down by the seaside In a new life, down by the seaside Cleaning out the room, I'll clean it up Dark clouds, she'll be coming soon Down the chimney, out the window, that is all

---- In the Morning of the Magicians - The Flaming Lips (waking up with no memory, but bad vibes) ----

In the morning I awake

And I couldn't remember What is love and what is hate

The calculations error

Oh, what is love and what is hate? And why does it matter? Is to love just a waste? And how can it matter?

Oh...

As the dawn began to break I had to surrender The universe will have its way Too powerful to master

---- Once in a Lifetime - Talking Heads (Huh??  What's happening??  same as it ever was, same as it ever was) ----

And you may ask yourself, "How do I work this?" And you may ask yourself, "Where is that large automobile?" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful house" And you may tell yourself, "This is not my beautiful wife"

...

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was Same as it ever was, same as it ever was

...

And you may ask yourself, "What is that beautiful house?" And you may ask yourself, "Where does that highway go to?" And you may ask yourself, "Am I right? Am I wrong?" And you may say to yourself, "My God! What have I done?"

---- Don't Change - David Bazan (alcoholism, cycles of wanting to get better, depression, slipping in to old coping mechanisms, plus a little bit in here about dreams.  This is a song for if Harry continues partying after the memory wipe, I suppose) ----

He seems nice You met him once or twice But you wonder what he's like When he's sober

Then again You hear he has no friends Just people that he spins To do him favors

When he wakes up in the morning he tells himself Today I'll make a change But falling into his bed at night he thinks Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

I'm so deep That only in my sleep Do the secrets that I keep Float to the surface

So I hold them down Till they don't make a sound Like they accidentally drowned Except on purpose

And when I wake up in the morning I tell myself Today I'll make a change But falling into my bed at night I think Man it was a beautiful day to stay the same

---- Airbag - Radiohead (born again, back to save the universe) ----

In the next world war In a jackknifed juggernaut I am born again In the neon sign scrolling up and down I am born again

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

In a deep, deep sleep of the innocent I am born again In a fast German car I'm amazed that I survived An airbag saved my life

In an interstellar burst I am back to save the universe

---- A Comet Appears - The Shins (puppeting a man-body around pretending to be a living thing. drinking, depression) ----

One hand on this wily comet Take a drink just to give me some weight Some uber-man I'd make I'm barely a vapor

They shone a chlorine light on A host of individual sins Let's carve my aging face off Fetch us a knife Start with my eyes Down so the lines Form a grimacing smile

Close your eyes to corral a virtue Is this fooling anyone else? Never worked so long and hard To cement a failure

---- The Communists Have the Music - They Might be Giants (Big Communism Builder, but especially Harry's shallow understanding of Communism.  Party-boy communist) ----

I got handed an Ayn Rand sandwich Straight from the can, it tasted so bland I asked a lass to pass me a glass Of Engels' Conditions of the Working Class

Right away they dragged me to the committee To explain my un-American activity They're gonna see they made a mistake If they'd only let me play my mixtape

I'm not partial to the martial Or the plutocrats, in their beaver hats And the fascists have the outfits But I don't care for the outfits What I care about is music And the communists have the music

---- Harlem Roulette - The Mountain Goats (Harry thinking about Guillame le Million?  Generally: that vibe of secret, maybe supranatural machinations happening just outside your field of view.  A kinda lonely, pensive vibe, sprinkled with past drug use, driving...memory) ----

Unknown engines underneath the city Steam pushing up in billows through the grates Frankie Lymon's tracking "Seabreeze" in a studio in Harlem Its 1968. Just a pair of tunes to hammer out. Everybody's off the clock by 10:00. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. Feels so free when I hit the avenue. Nothing like a New York summer night. Every dream's a good dream, Even awful dreams are good dreams, If you're doing it right. Remember soaring higher than a cloud. Get pretty sentimental now and then. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again. And four hours north of Portland, a radio flips on. And some no one from the future remembers that you're gone. Armies massing in the dusky distance. Ghosted in the ribbon microphone. Leave a little mark on something, maybe, Take the secret circuit home. Nothing in the shadows but the shadow hands. Reaching out to sad, young, frightened men. The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again.

---- Suture up Your Future - Queens of the Stone Age (Harry's gonna fix his mess) ----

I'm gon' suture up my future I ain't jaded, I just hate it See, I been down too long It's kinda hard to explain Burned and buried, all I carried

...

Tried explaining unexplained Got caught in the plan All this talking at once I've been giving my love away To the things that tear it apart I'm gonna suture up my future

---- Lampshades on Fire - Modest Mouse (Harry trashing his body / having already trashed his body, just kinda a Harry-vibe song) ----

...

Well, the lampshade's on fire when the lights go out This is what I really call a party now Well, fear makes us really, really run around A-this one's done so where to now? Our eyes light up, we have no shame at all Well, you all know what I'm talking about The room lights up, but we're still dancing around We're having fun, having some fun now

Pack up again, head to the next place Where we'll make the same mistakes Open one up and let it fall to the ground Pile out the door when it all runs out

...

As our feelings are getting hurt Oh, we want you to do the work Our ass looks great inside these jeans Well, we want just our water clean

Well, this is how it's always been And this is how it's going to be So you just move on

---- Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes (Harry "can-opener" du Bois.  Talking to the skills, solving things, detecting, generally being a terrifying force of nature / the pale) ----

I'm gonna fight 'em all A seven nation army couldn't hold me back They're gonna rip it off Taking their time right behind my back

And I'm talking to myself at night Because I can't forget Back and forth through my mind Behind a cigarette

And the message coming from my eyes Says, "Leave it alone"

Don't wanna hear about it Every single one's got a story to tell Everyone knows about it From the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell

And if I catch it coming back my way I'm gonna serve it to you And that ain't what you want to hear But that's what I'll do

And the feeling coming from my bones Says, "Find a home"

---- Body of Years - Mother Mother (Harry's past that follows him, Harry's half-decomposed body that marks the years of abuse it's been through) ----

All the remains of a cadaver of days I keep hidden away, keep them there just in case I wanna visit that place Blow the dust from the bones Off a body of years that I leave all alone Just a body of years

See the skin disappears And the blood turns to stone In a body of years now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul It's a body of years that I leave all alone

It's Just a body of years, now a pile of bones You know Old soul who falls down Can't stop trippin' on these Old roads I go down Get back up and get my foot in the door And my face on the page Make my mark in the world With a bat and a blade It's a body of work that you can't ever change Like a body of years that you take to your grave It's just a body of years that I leave all alone It's just a body of years, now a pile of bones Like a sheet of veneer Each a piece of my soul

---- The Cap-m - They Might be Giants (just a Harry vibe song) ----

When I talk you keep looking away from me 'Cause you probably think that I'm high on pot But I'm not, I'm not

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You say it's such a joke But I don't see you laughing

People seem to think you can't be called the Cap'm Unless you drive a boat Well, I don't I don't

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm Go ahead and mess with me You'll find out what will happ'm

...

Did you say what I think you just said My hat looks good on me? I agree, I agree

Look me over, I'm the Cap'm You act like it's a joke But I don't see you laughing

---- Broke - Modest Mouse (oops!  all mistakes.  Broke it all.  Want to forget it but can't) ----

Broke account, so I broke a sweat I've bought some things that I sort of regret about now Broke my pace and ran out of time Sometimes I'm so full of shit that it should be a crime

Broke a promise 'cause my car broke down Such a classic excuse it should be bronze by now Broke your glasses, but it broke the ice You said that I was an asshole and I paid the price

Broken hearts want broken necks I've done some things that I'd love to forget, but I can't

Broke up, and I'm relieved somehow It's the end of the discussions that just go 'round and 'round And 'round, and 'round, and 'round ... It was like everything was evidence of broken time

You're living on fancy wine You'll drink that turpentine You're starting conversations You don't even know the topic

---- Spent Gladiator 2 - The Mountain Goats (Defiantly alive) ----

Like a spent gladiator, Crawling in the coliseum dust. Who can count on his remaining limbs, All the people he can trust. Like the one who stands behind him, Cheering him on. Ecstatic when he stands defiant, Wild with abandon when he's gone. Just stay alive. Keep your eyes on the pay line. Like a village on the step, About to get collectivized. When the men emerge with rifles from the haystack, Everybody looks surprised. Like the mice in the forgotten grain, Way up on the top shelf. Like someone who's found a small town to escape to, Keeps one eye on his abandoned, former self. Stay in the game. Just try to play through the pain. Like a fighter who's been told its finally time for him to quit. Show up in shining colors, And then stand there and get hit. Like the clock that ticks in Dresden, When the whole town's been destroyed. Like the nagging flash of insight, You're always desperate to avoid. Like the bloody-knuckled gunman, Still stationed at the breach. Like that board game with the sliders, And the children on the beach. Stay alive. Maybe spit some blood at the camera. Just stay alive. Stay forever alive.

---- You Only Live Once - The Strokes (just general Harry, talking about the skills, choices you can make, what kind of cop you can be) ----

Twenty-nine different attributes Only seven that you like, oh-oh Twenty ways to see the world, oh And twenty ways to start a fight, oh

...

And countless odd religions too It doesn't matter which you choose, oh, no One stubborn way to turn your back, oh This I've tried and now refuse, oh

Oh don't, don't, don't get up I can't see the sunshine Oh, I'll be waiting for you, baby 'Cause I'm through Sit me down Shut me up I'll calm down And I'll get along with you

---- Pork and Beans - Weezer (Superstar Cop) ----

They say I need some rogaine to put in my hair Work it out at the gym to fit my underwear Oakley makes the shades to transform a tool You'd hate for the kids to think that you've lost your cool

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

Everyone likes to dance to a happy song With a catchy chorus and beat so they can sing along Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the charts Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art

I'ma do the things that I wanna do I ain't got a thing to prove to you I'll eat my candy with the pork and beans Excuse my manners if I make a scene I ain't gonna wear the clothes that you like I'm fine and dandy with the me inside One look in the mirror and I'm tickled pink I don't give a hoot about what you think

No, I don't care I don't care

---- Freaks - Surf Curse (head filled with skills, The Final Dream) ----

Don't kill me just help me run away From everyone I need a place to stay Where I can cover up my face Don't cry, I am just a freak

I am just a freak(x3)

My head is filled with parasites Black holes cover up my eyes I dream of you almost every night Hopefully I won't wake up this time

I won't wake up this time(x3)

---- The Smallest Church in Sussex - British Sea Power (oh yeah this is mandatory) ----

#disco elysium #harry du bois #harrier du bois #hdb #disco elysium playlist #generally wanted to keep this playlist fun to listen to despite the subject matter to there are still a lot of songs w good beats #communists have the music gets stuck in my head all the time #also sorry to repost this #i forgot to tag anything and if you edit something to add tags it doesn't seem to show up in search

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 8

18+ only

Warnings and summary - Masterlist

You can’t stand it. The anticipation is a part of the foreplay and god knows he’s magnificent at it, but you’re just propped up with a pillow under your hips and the air of the room cool on your skin —every entrance exposed for him— and he hasn’t touched you since walking into the bedroom.

You imagine ahead to the sex that will follow whatever he has in store and you know he’s watching the way you flex and pulse with wanting him.

Your hands are still bound at the wrist and currently over your head so your weight is on your elbows as you lift your chin trying to see him behind you.

“Head down,” He says and you comply. He says your name as if disappointed in you “Am I not clear with my rules?” He asks and you’re scared to answer. “You remember the last time you broke them right?”

You do, of course you do. The pain and denial followed by such a release. “Yes Baron.”

“And yet you’ve done it again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

You smile just a little and refuse to give him the answer that will save your hide. For better or worse, he is not patient with you tonight.

The resulting smack of his belt to your ass makes you shriek and you bite the duvet. Your hands are folded and you press your fingers into the flesh to get through the pain.

“Will you offer yourself like that again?” He asks.

You shake your head but raise up to speak. “I was just helping.” You roll your eyes and he can’t see your face but you’re very good at amplifying that snarky tone.

You feel the sting of not one but two slaps of the belt this time and the pain translates as anger, the emotion bubbling in your chest. “That’s not fair, I did what you wanted!” You yell.

God…why did you go and do that? Maybe because you know what will happen. He does not accept you talking back to him when you’re fully in your roles and tonight you’re having a hard time keeping the worlds separate.

Now there is an awful rhythm to his punishment. The horrible sting of the belt and you count to three in your head between strikes and try to flex your muscles to brace against the next but there is no relief.

When your shoulders shake and you’re on the verge of tears, Zemo stops.

“What is rule one?” He asks.

“No flirting.” You whisper your breath shaking your chin quivering.

“And did you break the rule?”

“But I thought… you told me to…”

He sighs. “I said to distract him, not to give yourself to him, not to let him touch you, and he did, didn’t he?”

You open your eyes looking out at the dark city skyline through the windows. “Yes.”

“Where? Where was his hand while you blew on his dice?” He says disgusted.

You look away and groan. “My ass…”

“Whose?” He asks, his voice high with the question he already knows the answer to.

You’re confused at first and don’t answer. The sharp crack across your skin snaps you out of it and you cry out but answer. “Yours”

“Say it again.” He snarls.

“Yours, Baron yours.” You insist. “I’m sorry” You gasp when you feel his hand make contact instead of the belt. One smack and then he lays his palm flat on your hot, stinging skin. “I am yours”

“I know,” His voice is in your ear and you feel a finger slide down along your glistening divide. He is breathing hard, you feel each exhale down your back as he strokes. “You’re very wet.”

You press your lips tight as you moan. “I—I just…”

“You liked it didn’t you?” He says slipping his finger in just a little

You open your eyes and look back at him over your shoulder. “What?”

“We’ll have to find someone more suitable for you to play the whore with later. Polisky is not worthy of you. Not even close. Until then, you’ll have to be satisfied with one man.” He’s been slowly adjusting his hand as he speaks and now he’s got his thumb at your asshole and his middle finger teasing your cunt.

You swallow feeling your mouth go dry.

He wants you to fuck another man?

Zemo is toying with you and the little sparks of surprise that come from being touched at both entrances make you whimper and moan. You want more…

Who would it be? This other man. He knows a lot of people, but you’re fairly certain he doesn’t have friends he’d trust with you. Maybe one of the boys from Low Town…. Just as you start to get lost in that fantasy, he pulls the pillow out from under your hips and turns you over helping bring your arms down so your hands can rest.

“Open your legs” He says and gets up.

You pull your knees up and out to make the diamond shape that he likes and watch as he strips down to nothing but his underwear. He goes and stands at the foot of the bed to look at you and you wonder for a moment if there will be pleasure or pain or both.

Even he seems unsure. You catch a glimpse of something else that has nothing to do with either of your tastes in sex and you want to pull him close, but you need to ask first.“Baron?”

He looks down at you and raises his chin in defiance to the feelings he’s keeping secret.

“May I ask you something?”

“You may.” He says.

“Are you sure you want this tonight?”

His eyes narrow. Instead of answering, he gets on the bed and lowers down, pushing your leg closed as he settles beside you.

“Want what?”

“Me…”

He smiles but it’s sad. He calls you lovely Sokovian pet names and traces your profile with his finger. “There is truly nothing I want more.”

You turn to look at him very much aware of being bound and unable to touch him. “What happened in there. What happened in Polinsky’s room. You saw something and you haven’t been the same since.”

He sighs slowly, so reluctant to say, but he does finally. “Before I came back to Madripoor, I was in prison, you know this already” He says unbinding your hands. It's unexpected but you lay there letting him. “I was—freed— by someone I have something of a past with.”

“A friend?” You feel a twinge of jealously. “Who is she?”

Zemo pauses, looks at you and chuckles. “She, is named James Buchanan Barnes, you might have heard him referred to as, the winter soldier.”

You gasp rubbing your wrists. “You know him? He’s, well he’s got a reputation to rival yours.

Zemo shrugs a little and lets the silky rope that he uses to tie you up fall to the bed beside you. “Apparently he’s a changed man.” He says and you’re very curious as to what that means.

“What does that have to do with Polinsky’s phone?”

“I saw a notification. He’s here, in New York with Sam Wilson. Captain America himself. My hunt for the serum has led them to me.”

You understand now. The Avengers or what’s left of them can’t go anywhere without people taking pictures. It’s probably on some TMZ knock off website and Zemo saw it. “They’re here for you?”

“I’m a very wanted man.”

“Don’t I know it” You tease softly and he actually laughs. “Are you afraid they’d take you back?’

“No. It’s not them I’m worried about. But if James and Sam know, then the real threat is near.”

“Who?” You ask ready to defend him in any way that you can.

Zemo runs his thumb over your lips and gently turns your head to face him. “Don’t think about it. Tonight may be all we have for a while.”

The threat of being apart makes you sit up and you go to your knees looking down at him. “No! Are you kidding? You can’t let that happen!” He seems surprised. “No! Zemo please! You have to do something!”

Why is he looking at you like that? Like you’re cute or sweet or any of the stupid things he says. You can’t stand it. “What’s that matter with you? Don’t you want to get away? Why would you give up like that!”

His eyes are fire but he doesn’t move and the way he just watches you makes you want to scream. “Seriously, why are we just sitting here? Get up, Get dressed! lets go back to Madripoor and hide”

He reaches for you but you swat his hand away which shocks him. The way he looks at you, you know that was a mistake. He grabs your wrist so hard you’re instantly missing the rope.

Zemo sits up and flips you onto your back, his hands holding your arms down. “I don’t run, I don’t hide. I make plans. And right now— this is my plan.”

“You’re a coward,” You toss out and look away, your heart racing as you try to accept that this may be the end of it.

He eases his hold on you and you dare to look up at him again. “Oh… I see.” He says very calmly, as though he’s only just realized something and sits up. “Yellow.”

“What?”

“Yellow.”

You are stunned. He’s never once used a color or a word. When he moves to the edge of the bed hanging his head you feel frantic with worry. “I’m so sorry! What did I do?” You try to make sense of it.

He glances over when you come to sit, legs curled under you at his side. “Nothing. I just need to slow this down.”

Your eyes are brimming with tears. This is not how you thought this night would end. “This? You mean me? Are you afraid of what’s happening? Not with them, the people looking for you. I mean with us? What can you see?”

He sighs and lays his hand on your thigh. “I think, maybe I’m not ready or worthy of the feelings you have. I have no business pretending to be a free man. My life is tied to my mission.”

“That’s not fair, you’ve kept me coming back to you for weeks!”

He looks up. “Yes, and it was wrong of me”

“No it wasn’t! It was wonderful. Zemo please. Don’t do this. Not now. Not here in a place I don’t know in a city that’s not mine or yours.”

He moves like he might get up, but you grab his arm. “How dare you!” He looks at you and you shrink back, but he doesn’t say a word. “How dare you make me feel this way and then tell me it was a mistake!”

He’s still just staring.

“What? Is it because you know? How I feel… You’re scared of me aren’t you” Your voice shakes with anger. “You’re scared to have someone love you again!”

He does get up then and walks to the windows.

There, you've said it.

He’s standing with his back to you and your eyes wander down the tense muscle of his back and arms lit by the lamp next to the bed. He crosses them and you want nothing more than to go and put your own arms around his broad shoulders but he’s being selfish. You can not reward that with love no matter how strongly you feel it.

“You’re still a coward if you can’t even face me. Look me in the eye and tell me again, Tell me you don’t want this."

You’re on your knees at the edge of the bed breathing hard, angry, hurt, scared… you can’t imagine having him only to loose him like this.

It feels like hours pass before he turns to you and the sight of him in the dark makes you groan softly from the absolute ache in your heart. The shadows that fall across his face only make him look more beautiful. You love him so much you could shove him out the window.

“Say it, say it and I’ll go” You whisper ignoring the tears that sparkle in your eyes.

His dark gaze is laser focused on you until finally he drops his arms and walks over to the bed.

His hand is around your throat and you grab his wrist, your eyes pleading as his go soft and he hangs his head for just a second. His brows angle down with the threat of sadness, but he squares his jaw and raises his head looking at you again.

“I want you to leave.” He says but you see his eye twitch and he almost breaks down. You know in that moment nothing has ever been further from the truth.

“I love you Helmut.” You whisper closing your two hands around his one, and he does crack then. That tough exterior didn’t stand a chance against the sledgehammer of your confession and he slides his hand away from your throat and up to your face, grabbing you by the chin jerking your forward.

“Go.” He insists.

“I’ve loved you for so long…”

“Leave.”

“And you love me too. I know you do.”

He seems furious but not with you. He’s at a loss for what to do, so he does the only thing he can and kisses you to stop himself from saying it back.

It’s a deep, slow kiss, that transfuses every ounce of pain he feels into you, and you inhale it, you suck it down wanting to free him of it. If this is your last night together then let it be a good one. “Show me.” You say, your lips still against his. He is kissing you down into the bed. “If you can’t say it, then show me you love me. Please Baron, show me like I know you want to.”

He has you on your back again and pauses, looking you in the eye as though you’ve just given him the green light. You feel a flash of fear, worried you’ve gone to far but you trust him, you know him, you love him.

Quickly Zemo grabs the black silk ribbon. “Put your hands over your head.”

You do instantly and bite your lip when he binds your wrists again, tighter this time. Once you’re secure, he sits up and opens the side table pulling out a blind fold. Its’ over your head and tossing you into darkness immediately.

He is silent again, you don’t feel him get back onto the bed and now you’re breathing quickly wondering where he’s gone. The anticipation is heightened with the truth of your love hanging low in the room.

And then his hands close around your ankles and you gasp loudly as he yanks you down over the bedding until your legs dangle over the edge. With your arms still above your head, you pull the fabric into your fingers to give yourself something to hold onto, but you won’t be needing it.

Zemo is surprisingly strong when you least expect it.

He grabs the rope and brings your arms down gently until your hands rest in a prayer like position between your breast and he pulls you up to sitting and onto your feet.

You stand there parting your lips after licking them, soothed by his light touch—his fingers trailing down your shoulders and along the low dip of your back— his hands rest on your ass lifting and squeezing the soft flesh just a bit.

When he puts an arm around your waist, you hinge forward a bit letting him hold you, the press of his thick cock at your entrance making you sway your hips a little like you want to swallow him.

The way he pushes inside is enough to make you melt in his arms. He is so slow about it. He wants you to feel every inch, he wants you to understand.

He loves you?

When he’s deep enough that your hips ache, he grabs your elbows and pulls your arms back, the rope rubbing into your skin.

Now he begins. It’s slow —long dragging pull, deep powerful push— back and forth at this speed that consumes you.

You still can’t see but of course this only makes the sensation better.

When his hold on your arms tighten, you suck your lip in bracing for it. The way he moves has your ass bouncing against his hips, and he moans deeply grabbing your own hip and thigh so hard you twist away and then he stops, pulling away.

You feel empty and confused, flexing like you’re trying to find the cock that isn’t there anymore.

Zemo grabs you and pushes you down onto the bed which makes your head spin. He pushes your knees apart and you feel too raw, too open after being fucked to lay here so exposed.

Your eyes are darting back and forth in the dark, your hands moving but unable to do much as you wait, until you feel the smack of something very small right down the center of your sensitive fold.

You cry out and realize that it's the tip of his belt. You moan and squirm fearing the pain, eager for more. You can picture it, him standing there with the strap wrapped around his hand watching you quiver and moan. Now you know why he started to fuck you. He wanted you alert, sensitive and soft to the pain.

Another strike and you close your knees only to feel the consequences as he strikes the tops of your thighs. “Legs open” He says softly.

With a whimper you do and he responds immediately letting that thick leather tap your clitoris until you’re panting, wanting to close your thighs as much as you open wider.

He lands a few more sharp flicks over your wet skin but when your moans change to true pain he stops and the room is silent except for you and the sounds that follow his attention.

When his mouth unexpectedly finds your pussy, you smile and sigh. He’s good with the transition from pain to pleasure and back again.

He licks your silky skin until the sting is soothed. He sucks your clit until you’ve all but forgotten about the spanking. He buries his face in the wet fold until you’re rocking your hips against his beautiful face and on the verge of climax, but he stops again.

That was just to prepare you. He unbinds your hands once more and you relax your arms.

“Move back on the bed.”

“I can’t see” You try.

“Move”

Obediently you turn and crawl back up towards the head of the bed a little hesitant, but you feel the pillows welcome you in and relax as you turn onto your back.

As you start to settle, Zemo is there, not giving you a second to get your bearings. Your legs are shoved apart and he spears you with an urgent momentum. The size and length of him taking your breath away for a second before you cry out, but it’s the good sort of scream. The kind that sends him over the edge and he proceeds to drive into you so hard, the bed moves away from the wall.

You thought he’d always fucked you hard, now you know better. This is the sort of deep penetration that will mark you as his.

He suddenly rips the blindfold off and your eyes open wide to find his bright with that fire you’ve only seen glimpses of before.

His hand slides along your thigh and under your knee which he lifts, bringing your leg up. He glances down to watch and you moan, knowing what he sees —you, tight and pink and stretched around him as he grinds into you so hard you can’t even moan— you can hardly breathe.

When you feel it start to build, you look up at him distracted by the muscle of his shoulders and chest as he moves. “Baron—please—may I come” You beg knowing you must always ask first.

“Yes” He growls and draws back to buck into you until your fingers dig into his shoulders. “Come” He says your name gazing down at you, his eyes steady as his body moves.

You press your head back into the pillow feeling the swell. Zemo lets go of your leg but you keep your knee bent and close. He cradles your face lowering to hover close with his open mouth grazing your own and you feel him getting harder. “Come for me,” He commands and slides his hand under your head lifting just enough to hold you so close that when the first wave hits and the contractions make your walls tighten and your clitoris throb, you feel any barriers between you fall away.

You realize he’s watching you, waiting as he feels it happen around him and then as your strongest pulse hits, he turns his head just enough so that his whisper is loud in your ear.

“I love you.” He breathes and watches you come.

You inhale as he exhales, shut your eyes and let your world implode. You don’t release —you devour. You chase the sound of his voice that has just said what he swore he couldn’t just as desperately as you try to prolong the orgasm that accompanied it and then he lets his head fall to the curve of your neck on the pillow and moans against you as every muscle in his body flexes. Another soft moan escapes him and you smile as warm ropes of come are shot into your belly with each pulse of his rigid cock and he clings to you like you are the one person who might save him from himself.

Your arms slowly close around him, you never want to let him go. You would do anything for this man, and you already have.

When he pulls back and you look at one another, he is the one to speak first.

“This was not a part of my plan.” He says sounded happily defeated and exhausted.

You grin and smooth his fallen hair from his eyes, your heart beating so hard your breast shake as you gaze up at him. Your Baron, the man you let claim you from the moment he first said hello. You feel him still hard inside of you and you’ve been in this position before —so many times— but never like this.

“Yes it was.” You say closing your eyes and his lips meet yours and your arms close around one another, content to stay this way a while longer.

_____________________________________________________________

Captain America and the fucking Winter Soldier. Scratch that. Apparently it’s just Bucky, or James if you’re Zemo.

But you’re you, and you’re in over your head yet again.

Sitting in your seat on the plane you go over everything in your head one last time —driving here, finding them waiting, Zemo inviting them on the plane in exchange for his continued freedom— you thought he’d lost his mind but the way he looked at you as Sam and Bucky boarded, you realized he knows exactly what he's doing.

Now it’s late, You’ve been flying for hours and soon you’ll touch down safely in Madripoor which is exactly where all three of these men need to be.

Apparently the card Zemo found on Polinsky had the Power Brokers logo on it. Zemo is angry that he’d missed the clues before this, but is happy that he and in turn Sam and James are on the right track to finding the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers. While they are not friends, currently you're all on the same team.

Still, you think it all sounds dangerous, but no more so than life normally does.

As far as your new traveling companions, well, Sam is actually funny. You like the way he doesn’t tolerate Zemo’s shit. He’ll make a fantastic super hero you think with a sly grin.

But Bucky... James.

He makes you smile in a different way.

Yes, you love Helmut, you feel it in your bones you care for that man so deeply, but Bucky stirs things you that you have to force yours to ignore. His smile which he doesn't give easily makes you want to break the rules. When he talks you lean in, somewhat awed by his vintage charm and stoic reserve. Not to mention that metal arm that you keep eyeing.

When you wake up and see him quietly looking out the window as you fly through the night, you get his attention and strike up a reserved, but easy conversation. He may be the enemy but not so much so that you can't pass the time. You quietly chat while Zemo and Sam sleep and you realize not only is Bucky cute —cute? No he's classically handsome— he's actually a nice person, which is a real mind fuck as you had every intention of giving him and Sam the cold shoulder the entire time. He does after all want to take Zemo from you once they're done with him.

He also seems to be judging you a bit for your relationship with the man they call a terrorist, but you don't mind. Your love is unconventional in many ways. Bucky picks up on this and leaves it alone, but he does a poor job of not making a face when you talk about your life with Zemo when he asks how you ended up here.

You laugh at the way he eyes your sleeping Baron only to realize Zemo isn't asleep at all. He's watching you, both of you and the look on his face is a warning. You assume it's because you've broken rule one, even though you did try very hard not too.

"Go and sit in back." Zemo tells you.

You bow your head and unbuckle, quietly doing as you've been told. Just before you pass him completely, Zemo catches your hand and pulls you down to kiss you and asks softly. "Are you wearing them?"

You bite your lip but nod. "Yes Baron."

"Good," He strokes your face with the back of his hand and you almost continue to your new seat, but he turns his hand, gripping your face and pushes his finger into your mouth. He gives you a look and you know what to do, no matter how humiliating. You suck him just a little as he turns to look at Bucky, as if to show the former solder exactly who you are.

His.

When Zemo pulls away, you press your own fingers to your lips, surprised but excited as you go to the lonely seat in the back and wait, knowing it's only a matter of time before you're forced into an orgasm that only Bucky will be able to see.

The poor man looks confused to say the least, he can't grasp how you, a grown woman, here of her own free will could suddenly become this silent and submissive thing that does as the Baron says, but when Zemo looks at him, and you can practically sense the exchange between the two men, Bucky looks you in the eyes with the first real smile you've seen on his face, and you know that he will understand soon enough.

*

I know, that was a long one. Thanks for sticking around. Hope you enjoy!

@fictionlandslanddreams

#baron zemo fanfiction #zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo #declarations of love #zemo smut #light angst

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Scuffed Souls

Pairing: Midge Maisel/Lenny Bruce Rating: M Word Count: 2769

Summary: Despite her declared intention to go get herself a taxi, Midge can't seem to leave Lenny's hotel. Parts of it aren't so bad—the ocean view, the pool, Lenny. She could be persuaded into a little recklessness.

It’s the way he says it—“before I’m dead”—that has her twisting on the soles of her new shoes to turn back towards him with an equally twisted smile that can’t fully perk up to the uncomplicated amusement she usually feels when Lenny cracks a joke. It just didn’t sound like one.

And now she’s probably scuffed the black soles on the wretched, fine-pebbled stone of these slabs surrounding the pool of what’s otherwise a really rather sad hotel. He knows it, she knows it, and she can’t blame him for wanting her to come into his room, if only to liven it up for a few minutes. She wonders if anybody’s ever died here. Wait, she thinks, of course they have. It’s a gracelessly aging Floridian hotel. The count for patrons who’ve left unscathed is probably lower.

“Is that a long list?” Midge calls back to him.

Like the melancholy, reluctant romantic he is, Lenny’s still leaning in his doorway, watching her depart. Until a moment ago. Now he’s watching her stand here in kind of a weird realm: the post-date, non-overnight stay who issued a spoken plan to find herself a taxi like a big girl. She’s loitering. Then again, unlike at home in New York, you can do that here. Loiter your heart out. Cross that heart and hope not to die before you’ve slept with the woman whose martial status changes from minute to minute. Roll the dice! No, that’s Vegas.

Even from this distance, she can see Lenny cock his head in that way he has—playfully subservient as a child and publicly tactful as a monied, middled-aged woman. Some days, he could mirror her mother. What a gag that would be.

“Things you wanna do before you’re dead,” Midge explains with a tight gesture of her arm. Just the elbow down. God, is she nervous? She seems to be suddenly doing an imitation of Susie meeting Lenny for the first time.

“Not really. I think of somethin’ good from time to time and, of course, when I do, I can’t find the paper I started the list on and I have to get a new one… so it never really gets that long.”

“I just wondered. You know, how much time I have.”

“The length of the list determines my distance from death? This I did not know. Powerful,” Lenny notes emphatically, producing the same noncommittal smile from Midge. “I guess I better look harder for the next one I lose. Handy thing to refer to.”

“There’s that,” she agrees, “but also…” She takes a step back in the direction of his open doorway. The pool shimmers at her side. He’s right about the pool. Somehow, a pool at night looks glamorous no matter the courtyard. She hopes she looks half as good. “I wonder if there’s sort of an implication in there that—” Midge rolls a modest hand over the crassness she’d have no trouble blurting out on stage, no matter which of her relatives were in the audience. “—the quality of it would extend your life.”

He’s smiling wickedly at her. She’s gotten away with nothing and has no option remaining but to clutch primly at the handle of her purse with both hands.

“If anybody else told me that,” Lenny warns, “I wouldn’t believe them, but you I know to have been engaged to a doctor, and so I assume that any medical information you may have to offer vis-à-vis sex—” Spoken in a harsh stage whisper that nearly makes her (her) blush. “—comes certified by some type of professional board.”

“I didn’t say it was the truth, I said I wondered whether it were what you were implying.”

“Me? Well, you can’t trust that guy. Still, worth chancing, wouldn’t you say?”

Midge’s scuffed soles have brought her many steps nearer to Lenny than she remembers being in lucid command of. She’s slow-tongued as she stares at his impish expression. Flat-out flustered when he tips his head back with a smile to rest it on the doorframe.

“In there?” she asks with eyebrows arching like the next stop on this tour is St. Louis. She points sideways, where his bedside lamp glows. “On one hand, eternal life—on the other, whatever diseases are living in those sheets.”

“Oh, they’re very well mannered,” Lenny assures her with a casual brushing aside motion. “We split the rent fifty-fifty.”

“Hmm, then I’m not sure there’s room for me in that scenario.”

“The shower’s not bad,” he counters.

“Water pressure?”

“No, cleanliness. Haven’t you ever—” He employs the hand roll she should patent if it looks like that when she does it. Elegant. Prudent. Half what she wants to be and the other half what she has no hope of becoming. “—in a shower?”

Because Lenny’s looking at her like she’ll either sidestep (metaphorically—the shoes have suffered enough these past few minutes without risking anything more than a regular forward walk) or say no, she takes very great pleasure in smiling devilishly back at him.

“A shower sounds luxurious. Never done it in a bathroom with a shower before. You look scandalized,” Midge notes. “Do the diners in your neighbourhood have showers in their ladies’ rooms?”

“You had sex in a diner bathroom? I’m impressed,” he allows.

“Thank you. I needed that. I carry every compliment about the encounter back to my closet and console my wedding dress with it. Poor thing never did look the same after rubbing up against those walls.”

“Is this in your act?” Lenny demands, leaning towards her earnestly. “Why haven’t I heard this?”

“Put it in my act? Lenny, please. I’m a lady.”

“Hence the ladies’ room, I suppose.”

She giggles lightly with her lips pressed together. He earned that last line. Set her face on fire to get there, so she’ll let him have it. Speaking of letting him have it. Midge finds herself dropping her eyes so they don’t get into their second intense staring contest of the night. Can’t look straight ahead, can’t look to the right because that’s where his room is and the bed is highly prominent. Almost too eager. The bed is the bump in the front of a virgin’s pants on prom night when his date’s skirt brushes a little too close as they dance. Those crazy kids. Oh, to be young.

Midge looks left.

“The ocean,” she observes, and says, like an idiot. She even does another fucking gesture towards it, like he’d miss it somehow. “It’s… big.” Clever. Real sharp.

“Bigger than in New York? I think so too. Alligators though.”

“It’s ok, you’re talking to a fellow New Yorker. You can use the real term. Pre-handbags,” she prompts when Lenny gives her an inquisitive look.

He lets her have the wrap joke this time, but he’s more persistent about trying to catch her eye. She gets it. She is still standing here making alligator jokes when she was supposed to be in a car on her way back to the type of hotel it would be kinder not to tell this hotel exists. A hotel containing her parents, Shy Baldwin and his entourage, the boxer shorts Susie sleeps in and forgot to pack when she went to save Sophie’s ass. Hopefully Susie doesn’t need to cover that famous, demanding ass because she left the best equipment behind.

Lenny tosses his coat into his room and pulls the door shut, startling Midge.

“How ‘bout the pool?” he asks as he steps around her, arm extended to point. She swivels (damn, damn, damn, her shoes) and chases him. “You ever done it in a pool?”

“Actually, no.”

“I heard the pause and, trust me, I’m enthralled that you even had to think about it.”

“Did I mention I hit my head doing it in the bathroom? Pretty hard. All my memories before that day are hazy, so it’s really anybody’s guess.”

He gifts her an indulgent little smile and stops at the side of the pool. As she looks on, he removes his shoes and socks. Midge hears herself make the noise she makes when she denies Ethan a cookie only to see Zelda handing one over when she returns to the kitchen. The noise says, Is that wise? when her adult mommy brain knows for damn sure that it’s not. Lenny wets his foot and flicks water at her. The mommy noise had no effect on him at all.

“It’s nice,” he says, clasping his hands behind his back. “Warm.”

“Of course it’s warm. The air’s warm. Everything here is warm.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” When Lenny frowns, it’s tragic. The most tragic thing you’ve ever witnessed. “You see, I’ve been so cold since the end of our dance. I really may die if I can’t hold you against me.”

Midge tilts her head back and laughs.

“You’re worse than the guy I tried to scare off at the bar by mentioning dick jokes. And you’ll die? Really? All of a sudden, I’m the cause of your death rather than the agent of its postponement?”

Though he smiles, his eyes remain soulful. There really is something tricky about trying to be funny when he’s looking at her a certain way. She’s probably returning the look.

“Take a dip with me.”

“Why?” she asks, smiling.

“Because I want to admire you with that rose in your hair without the rest of it to distract me.” He nods down at her dress.

“My outfit is distracting? Terrific. Now I know I wore a distracting outfit on Brye Adler.”

Self-deprecating thoughts trickle away, accompanied by the gentle slosh of the ocean behind them. A rambling, improvised bit about what she’s wearing won’t change the fact that Lenny said what he said and she heard it.

“Are you going to call me a taxi if I keep standing here?” Midge asks.

“I had no intention of reminding you of that plan.” He rests a thoughtful forefinger against his upper lip. “But you do seem to be stuck. You won’t brave the room, but you also haven’t left.”

As though demonstrating how to do it, Lenny crouches and trails his fingers through the water of the pool.

“Still warm.”

He gazes up at her with needful brown eyes. The need feels equal to hers. She’s tired of being the only one needing.

“You have neighbours.” It’s between a question and a statement.

“Ah, they’re all either young and stoned or old and asleep.”

Midge makes a decision.

“Gimme your key. I’m going to change in your room.”

“Change into what? Do you have a bikini in your purse?”

She leans close to snatch the key he’s withdrawn from his pocket for the second time tonight and grins.

“Into nothing.”

Lenny takes a visibly shaky breath, not trying to hide it from her.

“Well, I’ll be here performing the role of guinea pig by stripping for any neighbours who may be watching. Should you hear wolf-whistles…”

“I’ll run right back out and join the audience,” Midge promises.

They smile at each other until Lenny tests the tension by loosening his tie. Her eyes drop to watch and she realizes she’d better go do what she said before he’s naked enough to make her lose her nerve. She hurries, high heels clapping on the stone.

His room isn’t quite as bad as anything she and Susie experienced on their first road tour, but it definitely isn’t anything to write home about. Not that he’d need to, seeing as this is his home ‘til Friday and likely beyond. Standing beside Lenny’s bed, Midge unfastens her dress. For the first time since Joel, she does it quickly. For the first time since splitting up with Benjamin, she does it alone. Beneath the dress, she’s cinched in pretty damn tight and she rubs at the red lines in her skin as she takes deep breaths that she lies to herself about—telling herself it’s the relief of being free of her undergarments. She lays her dress on his coral bedding. She positions her purse on his nightstand. Adjusting the rose in her hair, she slips her feet back into her shoes and dons Lenny’s carelessly-discarded suit jacket. Though it’s no beach coverup, it hides enough to get from here to the pool.

She spots the pile of his clothes before she sees him, head bobbing up through the surface as he slicks his wet hair back and swipes water from his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Midge teases to his stunned expression as he locks onto her approaching figure. “The shoes are coming off momentarily. I know they’re distracting.”

As if he’s even aware that she’s wearing shoes; his eyes are fixed on her legs as though she’s an exotic species of butterfly and his gaze is a mounting pin.

“That’s all I see when I look at you,” Lenny says, arms thrusting to propel himself backwards across the width of the pool. He halts at the far side and rests his arms on the stones, chest above the line of the water. “One big pair of shoes.”

Midge shoots him a coy smile as she steps out of them, wary to avoid treading on his watch. That’s what gets her: his watch. She stares down at it, resting there, the glass face catching the light, second hand ticking away. Before they’re dead.

“Aren’t you going to close your eyes or something?” she asks, standing in bare feet, Lenny’s jacket, and a rose. “Or are you only a gentleman when it comes to sharing a cigarette?”

“For you, I will go through the charade.”

He places a hand over his eyes. His mouth smiles below it.

Watching him, she swiftly sits on the side, dangling her legs in the water. With tentative fingers, she undoes the first button on the jacket. His hand doesn’t move. She undoes the second. Nothing from Lenny. Jacket open, Midge shrugs it from her shoulders. As she pushes off the wall, dropping into the pool, he lowers his hand.

“Hey!” she complains, spluttering on water, but he raises both hands helplessly, then goes back to holding himself up at the opposite side of the pool. “That was a dirty trick.”

“I would repent if I could find it in my heart to do so, but I just don’t regret it.”

Midge laughs, shaking her head and treading water.

“By the way,” Lenny adds. “The rose looks wonderful.”

She managed to keep all but the very bottom of her hair dry and can feel the flower still tucked between the strands. Fleetingly, she thinks of where she’s supposed to be tonight. What would Carole have to say about a situation like this? Maybe Midge can be the one who knows how a situation goes for once, without warnings or tips. Just… living it. That’s how she gets the material for her act, which what’s happening tonight could never be part of. ‘So,’ she imagines telling a crowd, ‘I finally fucked Lenny Bruce. Plenty of people already thought I had, so I doubt anybody’s still betting on it, but if you had money on it happening in a swimming pool in Florida, happy days!’

“Can you see it from way over there?” she asks coquettishly.

“A little.”

“Seeing a rose ‘a little’ won’t do. Do you think Shakespeare only bothered to see a rose ‘a little’ before writing that line about how sweet it smells?”

Lenny shoves away from the side and swims lazily in her direction.

“What does yours smell like?”

“Pool chemicals, probably.”

“An underrated scent.”

Midge’s heart surges and her throat seizes up, tongue awkward in her mouth as he draws nearer. With the glow and distortive properties of the water, his body’s nothing but a blur below the surface, as she’s sure hers is as well.

“It’s like a forcefield,” he notes. “I get close enough to you and, it’s not that the world stops being funny, it’s…”

“It’s that it becomes somebody else’s job to make the joke.”

“That’s it,” Lenny agrees softly as they begin to slowly circle each other.

Gradually, they work their way over to where it’s shallow. Midge’s toes skim the bottom when she begins to uncurl her legs. Her body gets used to the weightless feeling of the water, muscles relaxing, but her heart beats harder and harder. Finally, she cuts across their circle and wraps her arm behind Lenny’s neck as she presses her mouth to his. His hand cups her cheek, then shifts, knocking the rose from her hair.

#my writing #The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel #tmmm #Midge Maisel #Lenny Bruce #Midge x Lenny #the ongoing dick-measuring contest between me and the Palladinos #so what if they aren't aware of it? does that matter? #as a writer I'm really just here to fix the unsatisfying plot points of the Palladinoverse

[wherevermyway]

beside you in time // seungbin // horror // 16+

❄ part of yuki’s favourites! ❄

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairing: seo changbin x kim seungmin rating: mature! 16+ warnings/tags: major character death, mental instability, paranoia, insomnia, suicide, character study.  word count: 2,148 also on AO3

originally posted: 17 february 2021

"Come back to me."

Things always got bad from hours twenty-four to thirty-six. From thirty-six to forty-eight, however, was more akin to running a chainsaw through an industrial-sized tin of diced tomatoes.

There was always one person that kept Changbin grounded, however.

"Come back to me, Changbin."

And that person was Seungmin. Seungmin was always there to guide him back to some semblance of normalcy.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

“Come back to me.

I just want you to come back to me. Not this shell of you, but the whole you.

The entirety of you. The old you.

Come back, Cha—”

31 October 2005 Monday

—

It was Monday. Monday at midnight. Changbin stared at the bright red of his alarm clock, staring the 00:00 directly in between the empty spaces of the square zeroes.

It was the staring contest he had every night.

Right on schedule, he lifted himself out of bed, sliding his feet against the cold wood of his bedroom floor, careful to not make any noise so that he didn’t disturb his boyfriend. Quietly, he slipped his way around the floor, out of the open doorway and into the kitchen. He flipped the switch on the wall, the halogen lamp flickering four times exactly before its sickeningly bluish rays illuminated the off-white kitchen walls and the grey cabinets.

Changbin took a step forward: the sink on his left-hand side, the stove on his right-hand side. He stared at the white wall in front of him, his expression empty as he stared at twenty-nine red Xs marked through each day prior. His left hand reached out to the drawer, not breaking his gaze from the calendar as he rummaged through until he recognized the way the red permanent marker felt in his hand. He continued to eye Sunday, as if it was prey, and his permanent marker was the hunter.

He licked his lip, biting it as he removed the cap from the marker, taking a few steps forward until he was face-to-face with his archnemesis: the constant reminder that time was limited, that he couldn’t even fucking remember what day it was without the stupid fucking calendar staring at him in the face.

Two diagonal lines from end-to-end of the damned square.

The 30th of October could join the twenty-nine days prior in hell.

Changbin paced around the living room, his footprints brushing over the rug in the middle of the room, leaving worn treads in its fabric. This was his routine as he waited for Seungmin to come home. He wasn’t able to focus on anything for too long before—

Time, time, time.

“Would you fucking shut up? I just told you to leave me alone.”

Before the voices came back.

Changbin knew he sounded unstable as he shouted to himself in the empty living room. He couldn’t stop it, though. The words always left his lips before he could stop himself from saying them.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Things always got bad from hours twenty-four to thirty-six. From thirty-six to forty-eight, however, was more akin to running a chainsaw through an industrial-sized tin of diced tomatoes.

“Just stop, just fucking stop.”

He knew eyes were watching him, he could feel the stares boring into the back of his skull, eyes running all over him. Changbin gripped at the tops of his shoulders, repeating to himself that he wouldn’t turn around — he couldn’t turn around.

“Go away,” he whispered into the crooks of his elbows as he embraced himself, “go away, just go away.”

Why are you here? Fade away, Changbin.

The creaking of the floorboards startled him, unsure if it was his mind lying to himself, creating something that wasn’t there.

Tick—

“Changbin.”

But there was someone there. The energy that came from the words was different, warmer than the way the other voices that circled his mind. The voices floating in his head were never so—

“Come back to me, Changbin.”

There he was, right in front of his face. Seungmin was tangible, unlike the hallucinations in his head. Changbin hadn’t slept in days, yet Seungmin somehow looked far more fatigued than him.

“I’m so sorry, Seungmin, I just—”

“I know,” Seungmin sighed, gently dancing his fingertips against Changbin’s clammy skin. He was gentle as he pulled the shaking man into his arms, and even gentler as they sank to the ground together. “We need to get you back on your medication. Get you back to who you used to be before everything got bad again.”

“No,” Changbin shook his head against the younger man’s chest, “you know what happened the last time they put me on those fucking pills. I can’t lose myself again.”

Seungmin gently stroked the top of Changbin’s head, shushing him and rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades. “Okay, okay,” he relented, his voice quiet and calm. “We can talk about it more later. Does that sound okay?”

Changbin nodded once, grabbing at Seungmin’s woollen sweater, hiding his face away from the world. “I just don’t want you to leave me because I’m losing it.”

A quiet chuckle came from Seungmin before he pressed a quick kiss to the top of Changbin’s head. “I’m never gonna leave you, baby. I love you. I’ll be here with you until the end of time.”

“You promise?”

“Always.”

14 November 2005 Monday

—

Until the end of time. Always.

Seungmin’s voice was soft as it echoed in Changbin’s head, pulling him from the darkness.

It was Monday. Monday at… nine in the morning?

Time, time, time.

Changbin rubbed his eyes, starting to hyperventilate as he stared at the clock. He turned to the side of his bed, expecting to see Seungmin there, but there was nothing but wrinkled sheets in his place.

“Work,” he muttered to himself. Seungmin had to be at work. It was Monday, which meant that Seungmin was back in the clinic. His breathing calmed down as he mentally prepared himself for another day. He would get through the next few hours until Seungmin got home.

Changbin haphazardly made his way to his feet, his footsteps padding against the cold wooden floor. His footsteps were so loud, echoing against the empty walls of his apartment. He flipped the light switch at the entrance of the kitchen, letting the halogen lamp flicker four times before it steadied itself.

No.

Changbin’s eyes went wide as he stared at the calendar, red Xs missing from the days prior. He stared over the entire month of November before he ripped the calendar off of the wall, rapidly flipping through every page of every month, trying to check for the marks through his days.

Nothing.

From January to November, there were no marks, not a single mark through any of the days he had lived through.

Tick, tock.

Changbin dropped the calendar, letting it collide against the floor as he ran to the landline they kept in the living room. Seungmin would reassure him that, yes, the marks were on each day, that this was just his brain playing tricks on him yet again.

His fingers trembled as he entered seven digits into the phone, the number of Seungmin’s clinic the only thing he could keep memorised after all of these years. Changbin called him at least twice a day whenever Seungmin was at work, often many times more.

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

“What?”

Changbin shook his head, staring down at the phone as a dial tone filled the air. It was possible he had made a mistake, sure, fumbled with the wrong numbers since his hands were shaking, but—

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

It had to be a lie.

The number you have dialed is no longer in existence.

The tick you have tocked is—

He threw the phone at the wall, the cheap plastic shattering as it collided against the drywall. Changbin screamed at the top of his lungs, tears falling from his eyes as he tugged desperately at his hair.

Why wasn’t Seungmin’s line working?

He needed Seungmin, but he couldn’t—

“I love you, Seungmin,” his own voice echoed in his ears, the voice trembling and shaking like a small child.

“Seungmin, come back to me.” Changbin blinked once and saw a wrecked car in front of him, blood splattered against broken glass.

He stared at the accident, the car totalled up against a brick wall, another severely damaged car in the distance. The car he was staring at was familiar, the shouting of the voice haunting him as he approached. With his breath hitched in his throat, he stepped closer and closer to the front of the car, each step allowing him to make more and more sense of the wreckage behind the spiderwebbed windshield.

“Come back to me,” the voice pleaded again.

Changbin’s voice. Changbin’s very broken, raw voice.

“Seungmin, please, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see—”

Blood. There was so much blood all over the inside of the car, all over Changbin and all over Seungmin. He stepped backwards, nearly colliding against the asphalt as he recoiled in terror, the memories of that day flooding his head.

Can’t go through this again. Can’t.

Changbin looked down to his hands as he shook in fear, his hands caked in rapidly-drying blood that was turning from crimson to brown. The scent of copper lingered in his nostrils as he shook his head, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Again.

Come back to me, Seungmin.

Let me go, Seung—

Changbin blinked his eyes rapidly until he was back in his apartment, warm arms wrapped around his torso. He stared at the broken plastic littering the floor and simply felt nothing, like the switch to his emotions in his brain had been turned off.

“Come back to me.” Seungmin’s voice was so gentle, so soft in his ear. “It’s time for you to wake up and come back to me, Changbin.”

The switch was ripped off of the wall, there were no emotions to feel anymore.

“Let me go, Seungmin,” he weakly whispered, reaching up to the arms that weren’t there, yet still felt so real.

“Come back to me,” the voice was louder as Changbin lifted himself up off of the floor, haunted by the way that the ghost of Seungmin’s touch lingered on his skin.

He slid his feet against the bare wood floor, unable to register that the smooth texture was cold, only recalling it in memory. Like an empty shell of a human, he drifted into the kitchen, where Seungmin stood in front of the wall, calendar in his hands.

“It’s Monday,” he whispered, pointing at the date. “The thirteenth of November. You wondered why there were no marks, right?”

“Leave me alone, Seungmin,” Changbin’s voice was weak, his voice expressionless as he stared forward.

“It’s time to wake up, Changbin. It’s not 2005.”

Can’t go through this again.

“You know it’s not 2005. You’ve been wading through this year like it didn’t exist.”

Life and death, teetering on the edge of it for a year straight. It was ironic, really, that Changbin only slept on the anniversary of the day that he killed Seungmin.

It was an accident.

“It was an accident. You should have been on your medication again.” Seungmin repeated, as if he could hear Changbin’s thoughts. “But every action has a reaction. You know this. You cost me my fucking life.”

Changbin snatched the calendar from Seungmin’s grasp, ripping each page from the calendar and letting them scatter about the floor. Alone he stood, like some fucked up sculpture in the midst of chaos — the chaos of three hundred and sixty fucking five days staring right back up at him, laughing and taunting and driving him insane.

“Come back to me,” Seungmin took a step forward, grabbing the sides of Changbin’s face and pulling him in to kiss his forehead. “Wake up and come back to me, Cha—”

Changbin reached his right arm out, until his hand wrapped around the handle of his chef’s knife, pulling it from the block.

“Make it all stop,” Seungmin taunted. “Come back to me, be with me forever in time, right where you belong, and it’ll stop.”

A tear rolled down Changbin’s empty face as he stared forward, at the empty wall. Seungmin wasn’t there, but it felt like he was there. “I’m so sorry, Seungmin. I loved you so much, I loved you and I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

A cold hand wrapped around Changbin’s hand, helping him bring the knife to his own throat. “I know you are,” his voice was soft, soothing. “And I still love you. So, make it stop. Your time is running out.”

Time, time, time.

“Tick, tock, Changbin. Make up your mind.”

Sweat started to bead in Changbin’s palm as he whispered endless apologies. Tears streamed down his face, his eyes clamped tightly shut as he quickly undid the flesh of his throat with the knife in his hand.

Come back to me.

There was a thud.

Come back to me, Changbin.

The white wall of the kitchen was stained in splatters.

Come back—

The days of the calendar were finally marked in red.

“Changbin—”

Keys fell to the floor.

#beside you in time #skz fics #horror #skz horror #seungbin #seo changbin x kim seungmin #kim seungmin x seo changbin #changbin x seungmin #seungmin x changbin #wherevermyway

[shirtlesssammy]

15x10 Bullet Point Rambles

Oh boy. We’re in some kind of monster fight club. The first rule of fight club? BYOF (Bring your own fangs)

Boris: Okay, but that wraith’s spike should break off super easily

Things proceed to go very wrong for our boys. Burned popcorn, parking tickets, failed credit cards. Charlie’s mega-hacked card explains SO MUCH

HAS SAM ALWAYS LIFTED HOT FOOD WITHOUT POTHOLDERS? Sam plz

I’m glad to see Sam is sneezing into his elbow. That’s the good bean we love. Poor germaphobe Dean and his sickie brother!

We are INSULTED at the implication that Dean’s mechanical skills haven’t kept Baby in tip-top shape

Garth and his babies is VERY GOOD CONTENT

Please send me 80 gifs of Dean and Garth hugging thx

OMG the babies are named Sam and…………….Castiel. Bless

Garth is living the dream! PROTECT

Poor Dean Bean has a bum tooth. OH MY GOD Garth is a monster dentist and operates out of his basement!!!!

Garth got into hunting when he killed the tooth fairy while in dental school. This is my favorite precious series fact

“Mommy, the giant’s crying”

Garth spots SEVENTEEN cavities in Dean’s mouth, lol

Dean on nitrous hallucinates a vaudeville routine. He DANCES with a lamp in the bunker! OMG friends

Garth wants to know what happened to the golden boys. Who did you guys piss off?” “God”

Garth points out that being a special guest star is the way to go - no tragic backstory and a chance at a normal life. 

Fight club werewolf wakes up! He “fell down the stairs.” Sam tries to get the truth but his puppy dog stare failed! Sam’s PUPPY DOG STARE failed

Bess digs her nails into her friend’s wound to get him to talk - DAMN she plays rough (She IS into 50 shades, I guess)

Garth is worried for the Winchesters, but they’re resolute: they’re gonna stop this fight club

Dean’s goofing off with his grenade launcher. Dean. Bean.

Ahahaha Dean’s SEVEN grilled cheese sandwiches runs through him at the worst time and he races for the bathroom

The less said about the puking scene, the better

Dean and Sam get caught. WHERPS

The fight club manager wants them to fight. Dean tries to use their legend to scare them off but...no dice

OMG this monster mayhem teaser commercial I CAN’T EVEN

“Just how I wanted to die…with a freaking audience.” LOL, sorry man. (Boris and Natasha sidle off screen.)

“So could we ever actually pick a lock?” These precious boys

Dean gives Sam a rousing pep talk! We are CONCERNED

“Oh, and boys? Shirts off!” the manager calls. We perk up! ALAS the Winchesters have escaped before they can remove their shirts

Ooo we do a little time reversal. Garth came to save them!

OMG Garth dropped charges all over the place and then detonated it as soon as he got the Winchesters out. What a precious pyro bean!

“C4, a hunter’s best friend”

Garth goes to fight the big monster dude. NOOOO PROTECT

Dean and Sam continue to have…problems fighting this dude. This fight is very Looney Toons and we love it

Garth kills the big monster! “He got Garthed”

Later, holding babies... “This Cas keeps looking at me weird.” “Just like real Cas.” We love that Sam acknowledges the STARING THING

Sam and Dean bid farewell to Garth. They call him a hero and everything is S O F T

Garth gives them a tip - a place to go when your luck’s run bad - near Alaska. ROAD TRIP!

At the close of this episode, Garth dances with Bess. I am so glad he’s living the good life <3

Dean and Sam can’t handle the normal, so they’re off to Alaska! And the car breaks down again. “Son of a bitch!”

Bless. This. Show.

#spn 15x10 #the heroes journey #supernatural season 15 #spn thoughts

[whyisnicole]

Show Me Your Darkness - Chapter 3

Hi guys! I just wanna say thank you so, so much to everyone who checked out chapter 1! I really, truly hope that you like it, and lemme know what you think!

PLEASE NOTE TRIGGER WARNINGS: Do not read if you are sensitive to suicidal tendencies or suicide in general. This fic contains themes of torture, depression, and language. It picks up but please be cautious of these things <3

"I'm just sayin', YN, you know I've got the room. I think you and Alex would make quite the nice pair of… roomies, hmm?"

 You give a humor-filled scoff and your friend, Alex, flips a not-so-sarcastic sarcastic "fuck you" to the red and black clad buddy that you've somehow unwillingly, yet gratefully, acquired.

Your days following HYDRA had been anything but easy - but you weren't the kind of person to simply lay down and die. Literally.

 Not only had you managed to free yourself from the imprisonment of a never ending life-sentence as some foreign army's personal test subject, you'd discovered exactly what it was that made you so damn special. You had the power of manipulation - the power of control. Whether it be emotions, matter, life itself, or the body-sized black wings that you could expose or tuck away at any given time, you finally were able to be the one in control.

 There was only one side effect:

  You couldn't stay dead.

  Whenever you would die, you would come back within a matter of minutes, and you've had more than a fair share of time to test that fact. You'd been low after escaping the taught hold of your previous prison; after all, who wouldn't have been? You never truly remembered a time where you had anything, but now you were all on your own. Simply some freak with giant wings who was brand new to her powers - which meant you couldn't control the fact that you could control everything…

And you couldn't handle it.

 You did everything you could.

 Pills.

Asphyxiation.

Slicing and Dicing yourself until you couldn't move.

Throwing yourself off from any height you could find.

 You basically gave Wade Wilson himself  a run for his money, and unsurprisingly found that nothing ever worked.

 You'd always wake up again, gasping for breath and remembering simply closing your eyes, praying they wouldn't ever open again. But they always did.

 It was during one of your famous drowning attempts that you'd met a girl named Alex.

 You were standing on the edge of some bridge, no cars passing, no life in sight; just the sound of rushing water beneath your swaying form. All alone, enjoying the quiet serenity and brief peace that was brought to you… Until you heard her. Some chick, bounding towards you and stopping a good thirty or so feet away, screaming out to you, desperately trying to get your attention. You remember her dark features illuminated under the soft light of the street lamp. You remember her standing at a far enough distance yet she was still all too close. You remember the panic in her troubled eyes and the way the wind tussled and whipped around her shoulder length curly black hair as she held her worn jacket close to her body in an attempt to shield herself from the nipping breeze.

 And you distinctly remembered telling her to stay away. 

 You had told her to stay back,

"You need to leave."

     "I can't do that…"

"Forget you ever saw this and Just go!"

  That you hadn't wanted to hurt her like you hurt everybody else,

"You don't know what I've done!"

    "It doesn't matter!

"Yes it does! And if you don't back the fuck up, turn around, and get the hell out of here, then you're just gonna be another victim of me!"

  But did she listen?

Fuck no.

So you didn't listen to her telling you to back away and rethink whatever problem it was that you were facing.

You slightly believed her when she said that you could get through this, but only because you knew, deep down, that you'd live. But you were just done with the conversation.

 So you did what you'd grown to do best and simply just left…

You jumped.

Feet leaving the pavement as the harsh cold graced your face, and the sensation of tranquility, of freedom coursed through your body.

 You felt the smack of the water and a moment of old, but then nothing.

 Until you felt everything again.

 You jolted awake, spewing water from your lips as you felt the rhythmic pounding on your chest come to a sudden halt.  

 Alex.

 That stupid, idiotic badass had climbed down and catapulted herself into freezing water to save your ass that didn't even need saving.

From that day on you knew you weren't getting rid of her anytime soon, and you'd grown to be beyond grateful for that.

 Since the nearly five years that you'd been introduced into each-others lives, you'd learned a lot about one another. You'd learned what made each-other tick, what made each-other happy, mad, sad, and all of the in-between's, and you'd learned each-others secrets. You'd learned everything about what went into making you guys the people that you are now. She knew what you were, and you knew that she was an underestimated genius that could give the best of the best a run for their money - even if she did do some stupid shit now and then. 

And you'd also learned that people suck.

 You have a small group of close-knit friends that you considered to be more like a family than anything else.

You have a place to lay your head and the best roommate and friend that you could ever ask for.

And you'd also discovered that you do indeed have a purpose. You still struggled with the belief that you're just some freak - some strange phenomenon that doesn't deserve to see the light of day after doing what you've done and being capable of doing the things that you can do, but that's where your new found family came in. Always there to pick you up and dust you off during the worst of times, as you had learned to do for them as well.

 You were set.

 "Well that's very sweet of you, Wade," Said Alex, bringing you back to the present conversation; "But I think we're quite set here. Nobody to bother us, nobody to try and get me to hack into all the extra channels on their TV, nobody to relentlessly be shot down time after time by YN…"

 Wade gasped in mock offense at the painfully hilarious rejection from Alex.

You'd be lying if you said moving in with Wade didn't appeal to you, but you hated to take. And, while you knew you could trust him with your life, and that he would never ask anything for crashing at his place, the "Friendly Neighborhood Deadpool" was fun to watch when he was determined and constantly rejected.

 And, besides that, you were content. All you wanted was a place to crash with your most trusted friend, and to be able to fulfill your purpose. To be able to do good with the hand that you've been dealt.

And you had that. 

 Was it some random, abandoned government-owned home?

Yes.

But was it just you and Alex?

Yes.

 And though you wouldn't mind having a third roomie, you knew that Alex and Wade would probably kill each-other if they didn't have at least a nightly break. And you were comfortable. You'd never ask for anything other than livable, and you'd never ask anyone to inconvenience themselves for your pleasure. 

It just wasn't you.

 "How dare you?" Wade gasped, hands against his cheeks as he feigned disgrace.

You and Alex can't to anything aside from burst out in laughter as Wade simply stood up and shook his head.

 "Alright, alright you two. You've won this round. But don't pretend like I'm stupid, I know why you two want your own place… And just remember, I'm more than okay with bringing the party back to my place. Last thing I'd mind is joining in with Steph and Lena."

 Wade returns the friendly fire and is simply met with a chorus of "Piss off, Wade" and "Fuck you, Pool" as he makes his was out of the run down home.

 "I'm just sayin'," he says behind his masked smirk.

"But seriously, you need anything, you call. Got it, missies?" He questions.

 As annoying as he was persistent, Wade truly does care and was always going to be there for both you and Alex. You knew that you'd not only gained a sister, but an overly-nosey and annoying protective older brother. The night you'd met Wade was just as intense as the night you'd met Alex.

It was roughly two years ago after a late-night mission had gone south for you that the red spandex wearing vigilante had caught the tail end of your fight with a neighborhood trouble maker that did a little more than steal a candy bar here and there.

 You'd heard and seen evidence of this particular asshole dealing around in the matter of underground drug cartel operations, and you'd finally gotten a hold of his whereabouts.

 You knew it was stupid and risky, but he'd slipped from your grasp before and you couldn't let that happen again.

 You'd been working with a "team" - that team consisting of yourself, a blind badass who went by the alias of "Daredevil" as opposed to his day name of Matthew, and some tough guy named Frank with a vengeance and skillset that you never wanted to find yourself on the wrong end of. His given name of "The Punisher" was there for a reason after all…

 At the time, you were just working with them to simply get the case over with, but little did you know that those two gents would quickly become a special part of your tight-knit, dysfunctional family.

 But they were lagging, and you were ready; just not as ready as you thought.

 It had been a couple of years ago, and you still hadn't mastered your technique yet, and not much has really changed, you've just gained a lot of practice and experience since then.

 You'd managed to off the crook, but you'd taken a hell of a beating at the same time. And, while you couldn't technically die, it still hurt like a bitch.

 That's where the red-suited anti-hero named Wade Wilson, or "Deadpool", came into the picture.

Apparently the asshole you'd dispatched was on more than just one or two hitlists.

Wade had been hot on his tail, but managed to stumble across a beaten and bruised chick with wings, and the lifeless form of the prick he was targeting.

 It was when Wade was scolding you about your techniques and making his classic witty remarks  while carrying you home as you bled out in his arms that you knew you'd gained another accomplice...  

 And you were all the more grateful for him in the long run.

  "We know, Wade. Thank you." You smile, giving him a small nod.

 "Yeah, now get lost and go make a difference. Don't die too much." Alex sasses.

 "Wouldn't make a difference!" Wade returns as he tries (and fails) to make a graceful and "cool" exit. He's never gonna learn that he's really better off walking away instead of trying some new trick that he swears he can master after watching one of those fail compilation videos. 

 He never masters it.

 Ever.

  "God, will he ever learn." Alex scoffs, tossing her head back and exasperatedly throwing her left arm over her face - her right one laying next to her, hand gently clasped around the neck of a bottle.

"Must you ask," you smile, "At this point I think your answer is pretty well clear."

 The two of you share a laugh and Alex takes a short swig.

 "Well," she says as she tosses the bottle outside of the half-way boarded up window in the run down living room;

 "It's getting pretty late. I think I'm gonna head to bed. You gonna go do your thing?"

 You take a moment to ponder before giving an affirming nod.

 "Yeah, I'll go patrol for a bit. Check some things out, make sure nothing too crazy is going down tonight." You sigh, groaning as you pull yourself up off of your dingy pallet on the hard cement floor.

 "It's Hell's Kitchen, Y/N. Crazy is a side effect here." Alex's scoffs as she cleans up her sleeping area a bit - dusting off the blankets and fluffing her pillow as much as possible before taking a seat on top of the freshly-made little nest atop a mattress stationed against the corner of the living room.

"I can't correct you there."

A sigh escapes your lips as you pull off your plain white, short sleeved V-neck, and slip on a long sleeved black one instead; followed by a zipped up olive cargo jacket and black knee high lace-up boots.

 "That's cuz' I'm always correct." Alex retorts, a smirk painting her features bright.

 "Yeah, yeah. Be home later. Stay safe and don't wait up." You smile, bidding Alex goodnight as you slip your phone into one of the zippers of your jacket and slide out the front door.

 "Wouldn't dream of it."

 Alex smiles as she switches off the lantern sitting in-between your pallets, her glowing dark brown skin no longer illuminated by the soft yellow light. Tying her hair into the most perfected messy bun New York has ever seen, she wiggles herself in between the scratchy yet comforting blankets. Bidding you a silent goodnight, she whispers a quick prayer for protection and a safe night for the both of you before shutting her eyes and drifting to sleep after about half an hour of tossing and turning.

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

Tags:

@eridanuswave

#marvel #marvel imagine #imagine #avenger #avengers imagine #reader #avengers x reader #deadpool #wade wilson #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #deadpool x reader #frank castle x reader #frank castle #punisher #punisher x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #show me your darkness #show me your darkness chapter 3

[damianosismyking]

Part VI

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V

[Please scroll to the end for trigger warnings. It’s potentially important and about Laurent’s uncle in this chapter. Unless you think you won’t be triggered and you don’t like spoilers]

 Laurent only got used to sleeping alone after his parents died.

Before that he would fall asleep on the couch in his mother’s arms or in Auguste’s bed with him. Either way he would wake up in his own room and with no recollection of how he ended up there. He’s never had the need – nor he wanted to – learn how to sleep by himself. It was one of his father’s biggest pet peeves, but Auguste always said Laurent shouldn’t pay his father any mind and Laurent really liked to sleep with others by his side. He felt the safest like this.

When his parents got in the accident though, Laurent didn’t have much of a choice anymore. His brother became too busy to let Laurent cuddle him until he was completely asleep.

After his parents’ death, there was only one person apart from Auguste that seemed interested in letting Laurent share a bed – and Laurent didn’t like this one. His uncle was just weird about it at first and he made Laurent feel uncomfortable enough that in the days Laurent was left under his care so Auguste could go out and sort things – either at work or so that he could talk to lawyers about the family money – Laurent would lock himself in his room and pretend he didn’t listen when his uncle knocked at the door or tried to push it open.

There had been this one time when Laurent was worried his uncle might knock the door down and he had to press his pillow over his head until the pounding on the door stopped and his uncle stopped cursing him for keeping the door locked.

After that there was no more sleeping with anyone.

Until his uncle filled a lawsuit claiming Auguste wasn’t fit to take care of Laurent and he should have the custody instead. It must’ve been something his uncle lied about - that got him to win Laurent’s provisory custody. Laurent never learned more than just that.

Auguste sat down with him one afternoon, the day before Laurent was supposed to move in with his uncle’s, to tell Laurent he was doing the best he could but “he screwed up and he wasn’t about to lie and say that there was a chance he could reverse the judge's decision.” The look in Auguste’s face was what kept Laurent from crying himself out. ‘Does that mean they’re going to make me go live with uncle for good?’ Laurent asked regardless of what Auguste just told him.

Auguste's smiled had been sad then, while he ruffled Laurent’s hair and said ‘Probably’.

The night after that was, to this day, the worst in Laurent’s life. He didn’t unpack when he arrived at his uncle’s house. Laurent's room had no door. He decided he would get away even if that was the last thing he did and that much he was sure of.

His uncle said he was going to take a shower – and Laurent supposes he did. He walked without clothes from his room all the way to the bathroom, shamelessly crossing Laurent’s room on his way in a nonchalant way as though it wasn’t the single most disgusting thing Laurent has ever seen.

As soon as Laurent heard the water run, he jumped off his bedroom window. He climbed down the roof using the tiles.

The only thing Laurent took with him was a backpack full of things he stuffed in it in a hurry, the two hundred bucks he’s been saving for a new bike, the clothes he was wearing since the morning and the jacket Auguste undressed and put on Laurent’s shoulders right before Laurent left their home and got into their uncle’s car.

What kept Laurent from going back home was the knowledge he’d be putting Auguste in trouble. He just kept running.

It took almost all of Laurent’s money to get himself bus tickets from Arles to Chasteigne, from Charteigne to Allier, from Allier to Sicyon, from Sicyon to the countryside in Dice. It took the rest of it to find something to eat during those four and a half (nearly five) days on the run.

Then he was completely alone in this ranch and there was no sleeping with anyone anymore ever.

Damen was the one to ruin Laurent’s progress. Damen spoiled him with his company in bed. That warm huge body curled up against Laurent’s own and their fingers intertwined.

Laurent meant to talk to him. To break things up between them, thank him for all the kindness and all the help over the years. Tell him Laurent's saved enough money to start a new life somewhere else – which was partially true, at least. Laurent meant to leave. He did.

It was planned.

But Damen showed up in a great mood, all smiles, celebrating he was assigned the pro-bono case he was promised and he was so, so happy that Laurent couldn’t bring himself to spoil it. Besides, it could be their last time and Laurent wanted to spoil that even less. They could talk a day or two later.

So, when Laurent woke up dead in the night because he felt the sudden empty space in his bed, it was Damen’s fault not Laurent’s. And if it made Laurent’s chest ache more than it rationally should, Damen was to blame too.

“What are you doing?” Laurent heard himself sleepy and rougher than normal.

Damen had his back to Laurent, seated on the ground with a small pile of book to his right. “Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” Laurent hissed.

Damen chuckled. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Laurent fought back a smile, a yawn, his blushing and the twist in the pit of his stomach at the endearment. “What are you doing?” he repeated.

Damen looked over his shoulder to meet Laurent’s gaze. “I needed some water and almost knock these over,” he pointed at the books that had once been on Laurent’s table “Then I just... looked.”

“You’re going through my stuff.”

“Yes,” Damen replied, though it wasn’t a question “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see what you like to read and I,” he took a dreadful breath “I found this.”

Laurent blinked part of the sleepiness away. The small reading lamp that he had on his desk was lit and illuminating faintly the spot where Damen was. Laurent was able to identify the book Damen held – it had a deep scratch on the hard cover and most of its dark blue fainted leaving nothing but a greyish color left. The edges were a little ripped from rubbing and shaking in the backpack Laurent took with him all those years ago and being handled too many times over the course of the very lonely years that followed.

“What happened to your family?” Damen asked in the quiet.

Laurent sat up, more awake now than he should be at this hour. The red numbers of the clock showed a three, a two and an eight. Forcing himself to Damen’s side on the carpet, Laurent folded his legs under him; he also forced his words through gritted teeth “My parents died in a car crash when I was twelve years old,” he got the photo album from Damen’s hands and opened it “This is my mom,” he pointed “This is my dad.”

He shouldn’t be saying. He knew he shouldn’t be saying because he was about to leave. It wasn’t smart to be telling Damen personal things now.

“You take after your mother,” Damen said.

“I do,” he continued anyway “I was closer to her – my father was a complicated man. Or I was. These were taken right after I was born, so they’re not looking their best, but I promise, my mother was the most beautiful woman.”

“I think she looks beautiful in this one. she looks happy.”

This one was a picture of Hennike breastfeeding a new-born Laurent. She held him protectively, smiling down at his too-tiny frame; her hair sticking up in every direction, tied in a knot on the top of her head. Laurent thought she looked beautiful too.

“This one,” Laurent turned the page “They took the day I went to kindergarten for the first time. I cried the whole morning, that’s why my face is so red.”

Damen chuckled and pointed at the picture next to the one Laurent was showing. “And who is this?”

“This is my brother Auguste.” The picture showed a young boy on the verge of puberty. He had golden hair past his shoulders, marked like he just let it down; he was holding a soccer trophy over his head. His smile was giddy and there was a dirt stain on his cheek that matched the ones in his shorts and shirt. His right knee was bleeding.

Laurent had no recollection of that day. By the looks of it, Auguste couldn’t be older than thirteen and if that was the case then Laurent was no older than one. But the energy of the picture and the happiness in Auguste’s face made it feel familiar, like Laurent was there and knew exactly how Auguste’s laughter had sounded the moment the photo was taken.

“Did he die in the accident too?”

“No,” Laurent’s voice was thicker than before “We just lost touch,” when Damen said nothing at that, Laurent added “I ran away. From... my uncle. And him. From the way life was turning out. And we’ve never spoke again.”

Damen nodded. “You never told me how you end up here.”

Laurent really haven’t. He only ever told his story before once, to Egeria when she found him; it had been his device to convince her to let him stay and don’t give his location to the police that was, at that point, looking for him everywhere. It almost didn’t work. Egeria, bless her soul, actually tried to argue with Laurent that at least his brother deserved to know where he ran off to and that Auguste would be sick with worry by now but Laurent was too afraid of what it’d mean to tell Auguste what was happening.

Thinking back now Laurent realizes his desperation and naivety had kept him from seeing things for what they were; had he contacted Auguste like Egeria suggested, Laurent could’ve testified against his uncle, told everyone about his suspicious behavior and perhaps the very fact that he ran away in the first day in his uncle’s care would’ve been enough to convert the custody back to Auguste. Who knows.

Later, when he did try to find Auguste again a few years after, Laurent watched him from a distance, holding a woman’s hand and a baby in his arms, getting out of the house that had once been Laurent’s too. Laurent didn't try to approach. It was the last he saw of Auguste.

“I haven’t,” Laurent finally said; he shut the photo album with a ‘clap’ and placed it back on his table. He guided Damen to the bed and then, after a breath, he started to speak.

---

NEXT >

[TW: The regent insists in sleep in the same bed as Laurent and is creppy about it when Laurent declines. (paragraphs 4 and 5) Then there's the mention Laurent's uncle naked. Nothing happens, he just crosses the door to Laurent's room like that. (paragraph 11)It's all brushed over and I don't linger on that too much, but, you know, if that's an issue for you, that's what happens and feel free to read the other parts. I'm sorry in advance if any of that makes anyone feel uncomfortable.]

Read on AO3

#part vi is up if you've been waiting for it #if not... well part vi is here anyway #StableBoy!Laurent au #I hope to finish this in 4 more chapters so it's fairly close to an end #maybe 5 more to fit everything #i know not how to plan things and stick to the planned thing #Captive Prince #Capri #Laurent of Vere #Laurent #Damianos of Akielos #Damen #Lamen #My writing #au #no horses again lol #as u kno i'm insecure and don't know what i'm doing #i'll be forever grateful to all the nice comments you guys make #either here on asks or dms #it's nice to know you guys are indulging in this little thing as well

[fallingin-like]

november 23

the real folk blues by @annawrites [requested by @allforthebee]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

this absolutely amazing and captivating fic that has the foxes as space bounty hunters and neil who is, as usual, and exceptionally skilled runaway. set away some time to read this fic as soon as possible, because once you start, you won’t be able to put it down until you finish.

this is such an entertaining, fun fic and you did an amazing job at balancing the softer moments with intense, action-packed scenes. at all times i was fully immersed in the story, you handled everything so well. i’m always a fan of your writing, so it’s not a surprised that i had a wonderful experience rereading this.

bits that stood out to me:

”counting stars has become a habit, something to subdue the memories” ah this is really cute and i can totally imagine canon andrew, lying on the roof of some building counting stars instead of trying to sleep

”renee cracks a chicken bone smile in the corner of her mouth” i have never heard this phrase before but i love it!

”there’s a collective intake of breath - andrew, who remembers every single bounty ever placed, can’t remember it ever being this big” for some reason, i love when this kind of thing happens. it feels so cool, knowing someone wants that character that bad and gets me excited for what kind of skills the hunted person has, to be able to evade the people looking for them (reminds me of john wick lol)

”nathaniel wesninski alias neil josten is a hacker, con artist, engineer and pilot” BLESS HIM FOR BEING SO CAPABLE AND SKILLED

matt’s infamous bell peppers and beef with no beef!!! that’s funny and i think about it surprisingly often

”renee pulls up a few more photographs of neil wesninski on the hologram screen. she deals them out like cards until they fan out in a neat timeline of faded hoodies and various iterations of the same polished smile, a mouth sharpened to cutting perfection… the eyes, in contrast, look consistently hunted” holograms and just this space tech is SO cool. i love seeing how the foxes view neil before they meet him. it’s interesting how many sightings they have of him, but also how blank he seems, when we all know that there’s so much personality under that surface

”the ISSP are a bunch of corrupt, incompetent idiots” LOL

”’tone down the optimism, day,’ andrew drawls. ‘we might start overestimating our chances’” agh i love your characterization of all of these characters and this is a great example of why! and i like that you used drawls, it feels very andrew-like

”andrew waggles his fingers lazily in the air” yeah this is andrew

woah i have never seen the art for this fic (i guess because i have the fic downloaded and i just read that version instead of going on ao3, the pictures must not have downloaded) but it’s great!

gasp, i love the idea of the foxes Dressed Up

ALLISON BEING BANNED FROM PLAYING!! “her former alias - lady luck, also known as poker alice” oh this is great. for some reason, them having reputations like this really excites me

”it’s in my blind spot” ANDREW this is so funny

ahhhh i can’t believE you added the “better luck next time” line in!!

okay so the whole action part of this scene is so intense, love andrew throwing the poker chip as a diversion, and neil pretending to give up for a moment before ACTIVATING HIS ARMED SHIP AND SHOOTING EVERYONE. ugh, hearing about neil being so good at what he does (steering, hacking, while taking off his jacket) makes me love this scene so much

”vowels rolling like a pair of dice” this is so good on its own, but paired with the casino scene that precedes it? stunning

”kevin values his ship, and his life, in that order.” i can imagine. i wonder, is there competitive racing in this au? i can imagine kevin being obsessed with that

thank goodness riko is dead, one less thing (on a list of many things) to worry about. whoop and i see that easthaven has passed, good.

KEVIN DAY WITH A METAL ARM AND A TRANSMITTER PLATE THAT COVERS HIS TATTOO YEAH

oh dang limb regrowth tech in this au? wild

”’minyard and the monster, how lovely to see you again.’ neil greets him through the once more hijacked comm. they’ve been playing this game for weeks now, racing each other across the milky way like starved lovers. even allison is starting to run out of lewd jokes” i find it so interesting hearing about this relationship that’s being built between them even though they basically never meet in person, the joking from neil’s side

these hints of andrew’s eye mods are really great, i definitely didn’t notice them as much as i should have when i first read this fic, but every time after that, i appreciate little details like these more and more

RENEE WITH A KATANA YES PLEASE

”andrew shakes off the last dregs of sunday sleepiness that cling to his lips like the skin on warm milk. neil wesninski might have become a game by now, but the malcolms still mean business” ohhh boy, even knowing what comes next i get nervous hearing this. i love the contrast between the softness of what sundays mean with the conflict to come, especially when you jump right into the action

”renee pants, her voice cool and slippery like broken tiles amid the crackle of static” oh i love this description

LOL i can’t believe that andrew got matt’s dessert rations and gets to invite neil to be a part of their crew

”missions are slow and neil’s face keeps showing up on big shot, though not for lack of people trying to hunt him down.” i don’t know why but i really like this!! you go, neil!

oh oh thank you so much for the way that you describe neil alone on his ship, his hoodies, gloves, “one sad-looking sock”, “the one sock he’s wearing has holes”, talking to himself, “yet he’s still inexplicably trying to shield his robots from andrew’s gun” so cute!

”eyes like the gleaming insides of a wire in the dark” this!!!!

the! cats! neil made his robots cats!!

NEIL HACKING INTO THEIR COMMS I LOVE HIM

”neil is like a live fish under his hands, constantly wriggling and sliding out of his grip, fingers twitching back toward his abandoned project like flies caught in a spiderweb” ahh squirmy neil is super cute, “neil shivers under the touch like he’s not used to being touched at all” this doesn’t surprise me. even if i didn’t have an idea of what his childhood might have been like (with mary and nathan, i imagine there was not very much affection), he’s probably been alone for so long, when would the last time someone would have touched him? i don’t think i would be able to handle it

ahh barefoot neil is always cute

SCARS no matter how many fics i read, i always love moments when neil’s scars are revealed

NEIL RUNNING LAPS IN HIS TINY SHORTS AROUND AND AROUND AHH

”neil slinks into the room late, looking tousled and a little sticky around the edges like he’s just woken up from a nap. he freezes when he sees andrew, stuck standing right in the middle of the projection, and only moves when dan throws a cushion at him” your writing actually paints scenes in my head which for me, a person really bad at visualizing things, is really impressive. it makes the experiences of reading exponentially more interesting, and doesn’t happen that often.

renee as praying mantis!! what a perfect nickname. is she religious in this au as well? i can’t remember if any religions even exist in this au (whoops i know nothing about cowboy bebop)

”she looks stiff and faded like old newspaper in the light of the kitchen lamps” what a gem of a sentence

me: sees the nickname gorilla and gets excited because i know some action is going to go down

”the three of them would just  about reach his head if renee sat on andrew’s shoulders and lifted neil up” THIS IS AMAZING. i mean, andrew and neil are tiny but they are not that tiny

”andrew begins tonelessly, tracing patterns into neil’s skin” if we ignore the fact that andrew is telling a terrible terrible story, this is so soft

”his breathing is viscous now, like syrup in his lungs. his left eye aches and the corner of his mouth twitches painfully into the ghost of a manic grin. he bites his tongue and it tastes like the word please” i am speechless but i really wanted to acknowledge this sentences lakjsdf

NEIL WINNING THE BET ABOUT BEING ABLE TO STEAL THINGS FROM THE VENDOR AND ROBBING THE MAN JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING. uGH you do such a good job of integrating humour like this into your story and having it fit the tone and pacing of the fic effortlessly.

excuse me how is it possible that you followed such a lighthearted scene with something so devastating as andrew explaining his past to allison and neil and have it still flow??? “because… i did not mean for you to get hurt” ANDREW YOU’RE SO GOOD

”he’s smoking outside and watching the dusk unfurl like an exotic flower when there’s a crash inside the store” this description is so gorgeous

what in the world, andrew i don’t even know how to describe you. he really just helps catch the robbers with his headphones on while choosing things to buy, killing a dude, then checking out, no big deal???? i understand neil’s attraction to him a little bit more now…

andrew and renee sharing clothes is now canon, please and thank you

oh no, lola is Bad News, especially when it comes to threatening neil’s family

NEIL PACKING ANDREW’S LEATHER JACKET AHH

”the bebop crew are basically overgrown children and react very well to the little sugary rewards for good behaviour” yeah this is very true haha

”’your blatant flirting woke me up,’ matt grins weakly. ‘can i have a lollipop too, neil?” i remember this whole scene so well, the second the infirmary was mentioned i knew it was lollipop time. matt, is basically how i feel right now HAH

woah wymack taking care of bonsai trees? i didn’t know i needed that in my life so badly. just like neil and the twins, so tiny :’)

uhm so, the tape that nicky sent to andrew? it’s actually making me cry (which is super rare for fics) “i hope you know that i love you”, “things aren’t so easy at the moment, and maybe they still aren’t easy for you watching this ten years from now, but i’ll always be there for you, and for aaron, too. i hope that one day we can be a family. happy birthday, my little piyoko, don’t eat all the cake by yourself!” i love this so much, and it makes me so sad and happy. this nicky is so good, and as much as i think andrew needed to see this, i think that i needed to read this more. thank you

nicky calling the twins his little piyokos, his lucky birds ;-;

the reunion scenes are so good, i really don’t think i can write anything that sufficiently describes how i feel. the way that nicky acts, the new relatives, older aaron, it all feels so right, so real.

andrea minyard deserves her own bullet point

neil just goes and makes all the police ships crash by controlling them remotely just for andrew to be hit by a moon rock?!?!?

”something irritatingly warm rises and swells inside andrew like yeast dough and he plunges his fists into it and kneads it into submission, twists it until all that remains is sticky, frothy anger” and “andrew sits down on a crate and prods at the yeasty mass still fermenting in his insides. the sudden bloating of anger has subsided to the usual starchy nothingness, but there’s a sugary residue of unease that he doesn’t want to examine any further right now” as much as i adore your jokes and beautiful descriptions of scenes, sentences like these ones that blow me away completely are why you’re one of my favourite fanfic authors. these are the kinds of sentences that i carry with me even after i am finished reading

”i can’t decide if you two are more like toddlers or like an old married couple… either way, it’s really bizarre to see andrew having feelings other than hate and destruction” LOL

thea is the coolest person ever

”kevin makes a noise like a dying dog” me too, kevin

NONONONONO ICHIROU AND JEAN AND EASTHAVEN

thank goodness neil is here

apparently i am very fond of the words “juice pack” and think it is cute. why? i also do not know

huh, riko naming his identity kevin king?? feels… not good

oh boy, lola is back

ANDREW CAN PICK OPEN HIS HANDCUFFS THANK YOU FOR THIS

is it bad if i am happy that all these people are dying (proust, lola, etc.)

NEIL AMPUTATES NATHAN’S HAND WITH A CLEAVER WHILE HE’S HOLDING A CLEAVER AND THEN KILLS HIM LDKSJFLK

oh dang, it’s stuart (i trust him)

andrew’s eye! thank goodness, because although it kind of sucks, it also Really Does Not Suck

”it’s stiff and awkward and neil quickly wriggles out of it. kevin must be really shaken up, because he tries andrew next. andrew waits passively until he’s close and then steps to the side at the last moment, smothering his amusement in a cough when kevin walks straight into the wall with open arms. serves him right for thinking even for a second that andrew would let him” LOL i love you, anna, so so much

money!! woohoooooo (or should i say woolonghooo okay sorry that’s like the world’s worst pun)

BELL PEPPERS AND BEEF WITH ACTUAL BEEF AND NO PEPPERS YES! what a great way to bring things full circle, even though it’s small

sweet dumplings filled with fruit? i am intrigued

THE SHIRT

i can’t not acknowledge the bit with the key, neil is too clever for his own good

we finally get to see bee! ugh i love the relationship between bee and andrew

”they may be marks of destruction, but they are still andrew’s; still proof of his existence” yeah (like a good yeah)

interesting about andrew’s memory not being as good without his left eye. does he have eidetic memory in this au? maybe it’s better if he doesn’t

i remember the first time i read this fic, in startling detail. this fic was so good then, and it has been just as good, if not better, every time i have reread it

it’s kind of embarrassing, but one of the things that i remember distinctly (among a lot of other things) is the noodles! reading this fic never fails to make me want to eat instant noodles

so one thing about me is that i am actually really bad at visualizing things. when i read stories, i can never imagine what a character looks like, i just see the feature that is being highlighted at the moment, and the second that sentence ends, that image is gone. like i just have a magnifying glass to someone’s face but i can’t piece together the parts. it makes it so that i often struggle with the visualization of stories. but something about your writing makes it easy for me to pictures scenes happening. everything is so vivid, and real (hence, the instant noodle cravings lol) and i love that so much. it’s so special.

the flow of this fic is amazing, the characterization is incredibly authentic and really helps with carrying the plot. you integrated lighthearted scenes with pure angst and awful things (easthaven) and i’m honestly curious as to the cowboy bebop episodes you took inspiration from. this fic was so well written, you are so skilled at introducing characters, locations, plot points, although i’m not familiar with this universe i wasn’t confused at any point. you explained everything without me noticing. this was just a breathtaking fic. thank you so much for writing this!!

#the real folk blues #aftg fic review #raelle writes

[night-zaveri]

Curse Of Strahd Quotes : Session Three

“That's a bad idea I think” “wh- wh- wh- what??”

“Why do you always vore your dice before a session?”

“What was that?” *mouth full of dice* “wid i huffinb stubder?”

“I need to find the voice hold on… huAA”

“He’s gay he doesnt care!”

“I dont know people punch shit all the time??”

“Great, we're good at that.. No were not thats a lie”

“I don trust like that” “I do!”

*Makes fun of human for not having darkvision*

“It is a vibing slab as you say”

“wHeReS fRaNkIe??”

“Gonna vibe with the skeletons and dust bunnies?”

“Guys i dont think the kids are alive awahawahwahwah!” “whawahwah!!”

“Gaymer youve betrayed me!”

“Guess what homies! I got a three!”

*A tentacle snake monster??*

“Tene sounds like a squeaking toy as theyre brought down to one hit point”

Tenes life: aight imma bout to head out

We gonna kill this thing then dieee

Tene fukin ded

Penetrated by a giant beak

“Yea” “yea” “yea” “yea” “...gotta roll to hit the chest”

“11 hits a chest because… it's a chest..”

“A 13 hits a chest because it is, in fact, a chest”

“These two? Dead. These two? Fucking Dead.”

“I look up carnelian and all i get are amethyst penises”

“A 15 hits a chest because it is, in fact, a chest. You bust open the chest because it is, in fact, a chest.”

“Tene fucking dies and youre like ‘ouw my finger nail ohwooh”

“12 hits a chest because it is in fact a chest. You smash the chest because it is not very strong”

“You open up the skin pouch to find 11 gold wow worth it!”

“IM SMASHING THE CHEST”

“A 15 HITS THE CHEST BECAUSE IT IS A CHEST AND IT DOES NOT MOVE”

*Aesthetically pleasing human skin pouch*

“Newt here vibin with the corpse of Tene”

“So much about the chests…”

“Oh still dead? Aight next room”

“Im gonna eat my pizza now its getting cold” “Shut Up” *wheeze*

“So if I were to push Tene..” “Tene would Die. Instantly.”

“Its disappointing water.. Its warm its sad water..”

“As theyre drinking water comes out of the hole” “A water fountain!” *In ref to the hole in chest*

“You can just call me daddy” *Tene shookth*

“I probably shouldn't but i'm definitely going to”

“I'm not talking about the novel by polish-english writer Joseph Conrad!”

“Thats gonna be brutal” “What” “Dont worry about it”

“Hanging onto the ledge, kinda vibin, close to death” “Newts gonna reach out over the ledge” “...Long live the king..”

“22 damage” “26” “23 damage!” “26” “26 DAMAGE!!”

“Joke’s on you, I have spells! Awahwahwahwah!!!” “Wahwahwah!”

“Nah theyre gucci, trust me”

(About a ghoul) “He needs a manicure.. His wig has been snached”

“Its kinda nasty not gonna lie”

“We cast spell and we die?” “Basically yea”

“Oh god Tene gonna die… again”

“18 hits a ghoul because it has no armor and is undead”

“A ooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeee……” ;A;

“You sounded like a cat hacking up a hairball” “Thank you i try”

“Yes, but consider this! Tenes stupid. Tene is dumb”

“IT’S A NAT ONE!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!”

“You see the ghoul, you get shookth”

(Writing initiative) *Ghoul der*

“You lobotomized it instantly…” “Sick!”

“It was already dead but now its dead dead”

*Tene dies AGAIN* “Hes monchin on that good flesh” “THIS IS THE SECOND TIME THIS SESSION”

“TENE IS A LITERAL MOTH!!! TENE IS FUCKING STUPID!!!!” “They just want the lamp”

“Pretty nice not gonna lie. Nice cut, pretty deep in there”

*Covered in brain matter* Kinda warm not gonna lie”

“That's a NATURAL 20 YOU CANNOT KILL ME!!” “It attacks you again, does a 17 hit?”

>Holy shit Tene is actually about to die this is not a joke i FEAR

“Just fucking punch it”

“Tene wakes up for a sec to see this (cool action scene), goes ‘fuckin sick’ then dies”

“Thinks about poking it, doesn't, but definitely thinks about it”

“Bards can either be extremely overpowered or weak ass motherfuckers”

*Makes a bad pun* “Listen here you little shit-”

“I wanna-” *Sudden unintelligible screaming* “What! What happened?!” “I uh stubbed my toe..”

“Youre gonna like this” “Oh shit”

“You have 30 torches and 15 candles, isn't that lit?”

Relation ended with Frankie and Newt, now friends with Lamp

“Thieves tools! Now you dont have to smash chests anymore!”

“Youve lost so many brain cells” “Braincells gone” “Never had ‘em”

*Singing the beyblade theme song*

“OMG we're all lying on the bed no homo! Just kidding, full homo uwu”

*Catboy Strahd Von Zarovich*

#nz #curse of strahd #dnd #dungons and dragons #tene #newt #quotes #yall this is two pages worth of quotes holy shit #frankie

[ask-stjerne-and-logan]

BaFS Fanfiction: Chapter 5: The Clouds Remain.

It was a matter of minutes before they reached Ozpin's office. Once they did, Ozpin sat down in his chair with an agitated look. The fact that He seemed suddenly worried about something, surprised Glynda and Qrow.

"Oz? Are you alright?" Qrow asked.

"I'm....I'm sorry. It's something that bothered me since we came back." Ozpin shook his head.

"You said it was Stjerne?" Glynda asked.

"Yes. It's her powers of Virgo. I think they are starting to awaken." Ozpin answered.

"What?" Qrow seemed surprised.

"But I thought you said that the powers don't awaken until the user is of the age of maturity." Glynda stated.

"In a normal case, yes. However, the circumstances with Stjerne have proven this to be an abnormal case." Ozpin clarified.

"How so?" Qrow asked.

"You all know that I told you that the powers of Virgo will pass on to the next person destined to receive them." Ozpin started.

"Right. You said that the destined receiver will bear a mark on the wrist of their non-dominent hand." Glynda said.

"And the mark either takes form of the constellation of Orion or Virgo, depending on the descendent." Qrow filled in.

"Along with the fact that these powers will pass on from the old user to the receiver upon his or her age of maturity, as I mentioned before." Glynda finished.

"Correct. Among the regular circumstances, there have been some extremely rare instances where the power passes on to the destined receiver at a very early age. Most of the times, the circumstance has proven to be death to the user, and an early transfer of the powers. If not trained, these powers will prove to be unruly and dangerous. Such is the reason why Ōrajios are given to the receiver upon their age of maturity." Ozpin explained.

"So? Let's give Stjerne an Ōrajio and there's nothing to be nothing to worry about, right?" Qrow suggested.

"It's not as simple as that Qrow." Ozpin shook his head, "If we give Stjerne an Ōrajio now, we may end up crippling her powers which would eventually lead to her aura."

"How would that happen?" Glynda asked, "Stjerne had just managed to activate lightning dust while we were in that store. I noticed at the last minute when we were getting the groceries. By the looks of it, she managed to do it without touching the crystal."

"Wait, seriously?" Qrow seemed surprised.

"That sounds more like she triggered her aura instead. Then again most dust is purified, and the powers of Virgo are passively connected to aura...." Ozpin said thoughtfully, "Anyway, Ōrajios are very powerful objects, made with unpurified dust of every type. Dust is triggered by Aura, but in this case, the dust is attracted to the powers and will dull their ability to activate. In our case, the dust will do more then dull Stjerne's powers; It will dull and weaken her aura, feeding off of it until she has no more aura to spare. Her powers will be crippled and her aura would be rendered deformed. If this happens, Stjerne will get ill and possibly die from it even." Ozpin answered.

"No." Glynda gasped, clearly horrified.

"Oz, are you serious?" Qrow was just as scared.

"Unfortunately yes." Ozpin nodded grimly, "The reason Ōrajios are given to the receiver on their age of maturity, is because they will have been trained to generate more aura, enough to keep themselves alive, and to keep it from the jewel itself."

"So, we would have to train her and keep an eye on Stjerne while she is this young?" Glynda asked.

"Yes." Ozpin nodded grimly

"You're going to train her, right?" Qrow asked.

"Well, I trained Saffron. I'm sure I can train Stjerne. I'll keep her in my office during the school day, where I can keep an eye on her. I'll squeeze some training in here and there." Ozpin said.

"Sounds adequate. But I don't know if it's possible to keep Stjerne in your office all the time." Glynda commented.

"Other times, she can stay in the lounge, her room, my room downstairs, and other places where the students won't see her and ask questions." Ozpin said.

"Heh. Well you look like you got things under control now!" Qrow grinned.

"Well, now I do." Ozpin remarked.

"The other teachers and I can watch her when we aren't working." Glynda suggested.

"Thank you. That will be most convenient." Ozpin sat back, feeling very relieved that this problem had been settled.

"Heh. We better get back down before Stjerne gives Pete a heart attack and sends Barty into a panic." Qrow suggested.

"Right. Let's go." Ozpin agreed and stood up. The three teachers then made their way back to the lounge.

---------

Oobleck had started a game of hide and seek in the lounge, which proved to be an unfair game to the two professors. Being a grown men, there weren't many hiding places. It was easy for Port to find Oobleck, who had tried pretending to be a lamp. On the other hand, Stjerne was small and could easily hide anywhere that fitted her. In this case, she chose to hide in an air vent, located in the wall near the door. The grate was black, with long thin steel bars running across the frame. Stjerne lied down on her stomach, quietly giggling as the two professors looked everywhere to try and find her.

"She can't have gone far." Oobleck remarked, checking inside the closet. Port checked under a chair and ended up hitting his head.

"What are you two doing now?" Glynda asked as she walked in. The door covered the sight of the vent.

"We were playing hide and seek with Stjerne and now we can't find her." Port stood up, dusting himself off.

"We had no idea she was that good. She could be anywhere." Oobleck nodded, looking in the oven.

"I'm not sure you're gonna find Stjerne in an oven. She should be old enough to determine safe places to hide." Qrow laughed.

"Well, I hope she turns up soon." Ozpin grinned.

"I give up. You Barty?" Port threw up his hands in defeat. Oobleck zipped over and nodded in agreement.

"Stjerne, come out! We give up!" He called. Upon hearing this, Stjerne pushed her hardest against the grate but it wouldn't budge. Her socks slid on the metal in the vent. She kept trying but kept slipping.

"Help!" She called. The teachers turned their heads at the noise.

"Stjerne? Where are you?" Glynda asked.

"In here! In the vent by the door!" Stjerne yelled. Glynda closed the door to see Stjerne pushing against the vent, her hands holding onto the grate.

"How in the world did you manage to hide in there?" Ozpin leaned over his cane, an amused smile on his lips.

"I pulled the grate out and slid in. Then I pulled it back over again. I thought it would be easy to get out." Stjerne explained.

"Well, next time you might want to consider your options on where to hide." Glynda said, using her telekinesis to pull the grate out a again. Stjerne fell out with a thud and stood up, dusting herself off.

"Look at you. You have dust all over you dress now." Glynda scolded.

"Sorry." Stjerne said timidly.

"It's fine. Why don't we see what kind of clothes you have to wear." Glynda suggested.

"We left that suitcase on her bed in her room Glynda." Qrow sipped from his flask.

"Alright. We'll be back in a few minutes." Glynda walked out of the room, Stjerne close behind.

"Heh. While I'm here, let's have a poker party guys!" Qrow suggested.

"That sounds like a fun idea for tonight." Ozpin agreed.

"Well, we may as well." Oobleck grinned, "who's getting the beer?"

"I'll fly back to Vale and see what I can get. Anything else?" Qrow moved closer to an open window.

"Hm...what about pretzels and nuts?" Port suggested.

"Better get something for the girls. Ice cream and cake perhaps?" Ozpin suggested, thinking of Glynda, Peach and Stjerne.

"Heh. Sounds good. Be back in 15 minutes." Qrow jumped out the window and changed into his crow form, flying off into the distance.

"Well, who has the poker set?" Ozpin asked.

"It's in my room. I'll go get it." Oobleck zipped out of the room.

"So, are we playing strip poker, or?" Port asked.

"Peter Port, we have a 6 year old girl with us. We cannot expose such explicit subjects like this to her at her age." Ozpin scolded.

"Oh. Sorry." Peter blushed.

"We'll play for money." Ozpin grinned.

"Ugh...do we have to?" Port groaned. Out of the 4 men that played poker in that group, Port was the worst. He claimed to be good at first, but after losing some games to his companions, it was clear to see that Port was a terrible poker player, and an even worse gambler. Oobleck, in the mean time, came back with the poker set and a deck of cards.

"So, what game are we playing? For money or Strip?" He grinned.

"Money. While Stjerne is with us, we'll have to refrain from playing strip poker." Ozpin announced.

"Well, at least I can deal with playing for money!!!" Oobleck cheered.

"Ugh. Now I can't get those rounds I need for My Blunderbuss." Port groaned.

________________________________________________________________________________

Two hours later, the group was still playing. Peach was still sitting on the couch, eating the ice cream Qrow had bought. Glynda and Stjerne were sitting on the ground, in front of the table near the couch, playing a game of Apology. Stjerne was close to winning, as she had nearly all of her green tokens in her home base.

"Ha ha! See if you can beat me, Glynda!" Stjerne cackled as Glynda rolled her dice.

"Fine. If that's how you want to play!" Glynda used her telekinese to roll her dice, which ended up being a 3 and a 2. Glynda made her move and got one of her pieces into her base, leaving only two pieces left.

"There." She grinned smugly.

"Heh." Stjerne grinned and rolled her dice, which ended up as being a 5 and a 6. She made her move on her last piece and made it to the final base.

"Apology!" Stjerne cheered.

"Ack! Please be a little more quiet over there, will you?" Port asked.

"Sorry Peter." Glynda called.

"Whats going on over there?" Stjerne asked.

"Oh, the rest of those dolts are gambling on their game of Poker." Glynda sighed.

"I bet you can beat them in a game of Poker! With your telekinese, you can easily beat them!" Stjerne exclaimed.

"Telekinesis isn't the same as telepathy. There's a difference." Glynda explained, putting the board away.

"Still. Maybe you can beat them!"

"Hm. Maybe. If they let me play." Glynda said thoughtfully, "for now, why don't you go see what they're up to."

"Okay!" She agreed. Glynda stood up and pulled her wallet out. She decided to gamble. Normally she didn't like gambling but she couldn't resist placing a bet every now and then.

"Mind if I join in?" She asked, casually.

"Hm. If you want. But can you wait until this game is over?" Ozpin asked.

"Sure." Glynda sat in a chair and watched them. Stjerne came over and stood near Ozpin. She couldn't really see what was going on, so she stood on her toes, trying to get a glimpse. Ozpin noticed and layed his cards down, hoisting Stjerne onto his lap.

"You can sit here for the time being. Don't help them cheat though" He said, a smile playing on his lips.

"I won't." Stjerne promised. The game went on for a few minutes and finally, Ozpin won the match.

"Ohh! Good one!" Oobleck grinned.

"Heh. I'm flushed out." Qrow shrugged, folding.

"That's it. I quit." Port folded and walked away. A good half of his money was still on the table.

"Alright. I'll take Peter's place." Glynda sat down between Ozpin and Oobleck. The game started and was getting pretty intense, until it came to the final round. Glynda had managed to get Oobleck knocked out of the game, and was now facing off against Ozpin. After a few tense minutes, each showed their cards. Ozpin had a royal flush, while Glynda had a pair of Aces, knocking Ozpin out.

"Good game Glynda." Ozpin shook her hand.

"Beginners luck I suppose." Glynda shook his hand and took the lien that was on the table.

"Well, what should we play next?" Oobleck asked, "How about Remnant, the game?"

"I could go for a good game." Qrow nodded. Oobleck grabbed the game down from the shelf.

"Haha! I'll be Vacuo, as always."

"Minstral for me." Qrow grinned.

"I'll be Vale." Ozpin grinned.

"What is it with you men and that game?" Glynda shook her head.

"Come on Glynda. It's fun! Even Tai plays." Qrow spoke up.

"Can I watch?" Stjerne asked.

"Of course." Ozpin consented.

"I guess I'm stuck with Atlas then." Oobleck set up the game.

The three teachers and one huntsmen sat around the table, the cards dealt out and pieces set up. Stjerne still sat on Ozpin's lap, watching him play. There was some tense battling between the kingdoms, Oobleck won a battle against Ozpin, and Qrow managed to defeat Port.

"No!!! How do you do this?" Port wailed dramatically.

"This is what happens whenever they play this game." Glynda, finishing some paperwork.

"Your turn." Oobleck said to Ozpin.

"Alright. What to do?" Ozpin mused. Stjerne caught a glimpse of his cards and watched him make a move.

"I shall deploy the huntsmen ground force against Qrow." Ozpin placed his card down on the table.

"Oz, you traitor!" Qrow said in his best dramatic voice.

"Looks like I get to kill more then 1/3rd of your ground forces of Ursa and Beowolves. Which I will use to make a frontal attack to gain more land." Ozpin said smugly

"Heh. Dream on Oz. You just activated my trap card." Qrow pulled out his flask and flipped a card down on the table, "Rapier wasp attack. If I roll a 7 or higher, rapier wasps will shot your huntsmen down."

"Don't forget that if you roll a 6 or lower, the wasps will turn on your forces." Ozpin reminded him.

"Chance I'm willing to take, Oz." Qrow grinned, rolling the dice. Suddenly a leg of his chair snapped and Qrow fell to the ground, the dice flying out of his hand and landing on the table. It was a 2.

"Sorry Qrow. Trap card foiled." Ozpin sighed, "looks like I win this one."

"Darn it. If it weren't for my semblance, I would have aced that roll." Qrow stood up and dusted himself off.

"Wait, what?" Stjerne spoke up, confused.

"My semblance is bad luck, kiddo. It can affect me or the people I'm with. The problem there is that it's on 24/7. I can't turn it on and I can't turn it off." Qrow answered.

"I didn't know luck could be a semblance!" Stjerne sounded excited.

"Well, I wouldn't get excited about my semblance kid. It's been a curse to me my entire life." Qrow shook his head, grabbing another chair.

"What other semblances are there?" Stjerne looked up at Ozpin.

"Well, there are several kinds. For instance, Professor Oobleck here uses a kind of speed." Ozpin answered thoughtfully.

"It's Doctor!" Oobleck corrected.

"Right, doctor. Sorry." Ozpin shook his head.

"Why call him Doctor?" Stjerne looked confused.

"Because I went the extra mile to earn my PhD for Geography and Archeology!" Oobleck answered proudly.

"Huh. I thought it was because you went the extra mile to win a marathon." Stjerne said innocently. Everyone burst out laughing at that. Even Glynda found herself bent over in laughter. Oobleck was the only one who deadpanned at this.

"Ohahahaha!!! That was good......" Qrow laughed.

"Indeed......" Ozpin gasped for breath, holding his gut.

"Someone please kill me!!!" Glynda was on her knees, banging her head on the table.

"Not funny." Oobleck shook his head and picked Stjerne up, looking at her dead in the the eye. Stjerne didn't do anything until she suddenly made a grab for Oobleck's glasses.

"Don't....touch those!" Oobleck dodged.

"I have to know! Are your eyes blue or brown?!" Stjerne protested, still reaching for them.

"They're blue. Why?!" Oobleck stumbled a bit.

"Because I can't tell! How can you even see in those?!" Suddenly Oobleck tripped backwards and fell to the ground, Stjerne still in his grasp.

"Okay. I think that's enough excitement for one night." Ozpin picked up Stjerne, who was still a bit feisty on Oobleck.

"I agree. It's 7:00 pm, and I think it's about time for you to get some sleep." Glynda said, straightening up.

"Awww..." Stjerne groaned.

"The faster you go to sleep, the sooner it will be morning." Glynda promised.

"Fine. But can Oz put me to bed? Please?" Stjerne asked.

"Well, okay." Ozpin consented after a few minutes, taking Stjerne by the hand and leaving the room. Glynda stood silently with the other teachers and Qrow.

"Well, I've never seen him act like this around us." Oobleck remarked after Ozpin had left. He had picked himself back up and was standing behind Glynda.

"I think I know why he does." Glynda said quietly, "Believe it or not, Ozpin has a father's love. He told me that he tried to show it through his duties as a Headmaster, but for him, it's very hard, especially since he has to show his authority most of the time. It doesn't show much to the students, and that discouraged him from trying harder. When Stjerne came into our lives, I think Ozpin is trying to show his love the way he wanted to. I think it's quite touching, really."

The other teachers thought quietly about this. They had never known Ozpin, their confident Headmaster, to have any sort of love of this type. To them, it was rather unexpected.

"Well. I must say I never thought about it this way before." Oobleck said quietly after a few minutes.

"Heh. Would explain why he's being like that." Qrow shrugged.

"I know. Neither did I at first. Just.... Don't speak about this to Ozpin." Glynda pleaded. Qrow, Port and Oobleck nodded their heads silently in agreement.

_______________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, Ozpin had taken Stjerne to her room and was helping her get ready for bed. She had changed into a night gown and had brushed her teeth. She now lay in bed, Ozpin tucking her in.

"I'm sure you'll have no trouble sleeping in your room from here on out." Ozpin promised. Inwardly, he felt a twinge of pain fill his heart. He hadn't shown these kinds of feelings of love for a small child such as Stjerne in ages. It made him happy, and yet very sad. He knew that he wasn't the real father of this child and that the girl's real father was high up in the heavens, watching and pleading him to look after his girl the way he would have. Deep down inside, Ozpin wished that he could have been the father of this girl, but he knew that destiny had it in a different way. He fell silent after he spoke. He quietly rose to leave, but Stjerne grabbed his hand and hugged his arm.

"Thank you Ozpin." She whispered. Ozpin seemed a bit surprised, but he smiled sadly at the girl. He hugged her and layed her back down.

"Just get some sleep. You'll need all the energy you can get for tommorow." Ozpin said. Stjerne nodded her head and closed her eyes. Ozpin left quietly and closed the door.

When he made it back to the lounge, he talked to the other teachers about Stjerne's situation.

"So, you're saying that we need to keep her away from dust?" Oobleck asked.

"Yes. If Stjerne has a necklace of any type of dust or any cartridge or round, make sure that it is disposed of properly. Since Peach mainly the one who manages our dust, make sure she knows." Ozpin insisted.

"Alright then. Keep Stjerne away from dust." Port clarified.

"Precisely." Ozpin affirmed.

"We should all get to bed. It's 8:50 in the night. It's best we get some sleep." Glynda suggested.

"Right. Goodnight all!" Oobleck saluted before zipping away.

"Good night everyone." Port said as he walked away.

"Well, goodnight Oz, Glynda." Qrow walked off towards his temporary room that Oz had reserved for him, whenever he came back from missions. Ozpin seemed downhearted and unhappy somehow. Glynda seemed to notice and put her hand on his shoulder.

"I know that look. what are you feeling?" Glynda asked softly.

"I...I shouldn't be like this. The girl isn't even my child, I..." Ozpin started.

"Oz. We talked about this. Whether you like it or not, that girl now looks up to you as her father. So it time you put your doubt aside and start caring for the child as if she were your own." Glynda said softly but sternly.

"But...I feel like I had taken Verusium's role away from him. He's her real father, and Stjerne never even knew him. Verusium would be mad if he saw me now." Ozpin shook his head.

"No, he wouldn't. Verusium knew what had to be done, and he did it. He did his best, but he didn't return. If he were here now, he would feel proud that you took the role as father to the child. After all, isn't it in every man's interest to see that he is a good and loving father to his child?" Glynda asked.

"Yes....you're right. I'm sorry. I just... I never before had the chance to express this love I felt for any child. She's so much like her mother. I feel guilty whenever I see her." Ozpin started tearing up. Glynda noticed this and hugged him.

"Saffron and Verusium would be proud of you. They both would." She promised. Ozpin nodded and stood up.

"Thank you, Glynda."

"It was no trouble sir. If you don't need me, then I'll be off to get some sleep." Glynda yawned.

"You're excused." Ozpin consented. Both the teachers parted ways after saying their goodnights to each other. As Ozpin lay in his bed, he couldn't help but think about Stjerne, and the daunting responsability of training her powers.

"It won't be easy, I know that. But...I'm sure I can do it." Ozpin thought. He feel asleep, more confident then ever about his task ahead.

-------

Here you guys go! Still can't believe I mentioned Strip poker of all things😫😫😫. Headcannon here is the they only do it above waist, so that should be clean enough. 😣😣😣

@phoenix-no, @saiyoyuutsume, @aquarius-power

#BaFS Fanfiction #I have to keep track of this.... #havent screwed up yet but i fell like im about to #hopefully im not crying near the end. #rwby oc #rwby ocs #rwby oc fanfiction #rwby ozpin #bafs fanfiction #star fic

[led-writes]

To Skin A Cat

June 3rd

I’m so excited! Today is my first day working for Mrs. Gardner. It’s my first job and I get to spend everyday by myself, away from the city, taking care of a lovely country house. What more could I ask for?

There’s a lot that needs fixing. Some of it will take quite a while to take care of, but Mrs.Gardner told me to take as much time as I need. She likes to keep me company when I work; she sits next to me to drink her tea. Sometimes she comments on my work, but she only ever has good things to say.

Home is too far away to travel back and forth everyday, so Mrs.Gardner offered me the guest bedroom. A whole room to myself, can you believe it? There’s a large bed, big enough for two people, and a huge dresser with more than enough space to fit all my clothes. It takes up most of the wall! Unfortunately, the bedroom door is broken and won’t stay shut. There’s no window either, but that’s alright. The stars are so bright out here, they’d just keep me up at night.

Tomorrow, I’m fixing the lamp above the dining table, hanging some frames, and replacing the lock on the front door. Maybe, if I have time, I could start repainting the bathroom, or change the leaky pipes in the kitchen. Maybe I could even start a garden! God knows there’s enough space in the backyard for it. Ah, I can’t wait to get started! Tomorrow is going to be great, I can feel it!

June 11th

Well, my first week working for Mrs.Gardner is over. I feel like I’ve accomplished a lot already, yet there’s still so much to do! Thankfully, Mrs.Gardner is patient with me. She agreed to my garden idea -- I’ve already cleared out a lot of the brush and planted a few vegetables. I wanted flowers at first, but the field behind the house is already full of them! I went to pick out some red yarrows yesterday. Mrs. Gardner seemed very pleased, and even put them in a vase on the dining table. I’m glad she agreed to keep them, they really lighten up the house. 

Despite how amazing this week has been, I can feel the exhaustion getting to me. The work itself isn’t too demanding; I may even be taking it a little too easy. No, the real issue is sleep. 

The house is made of old wood and, at night, its noises become overwhelming, I find it almost impossible to fall asleep. I don’t really notice it during the day, but the moment I lay down and shut my eyes, it’s all I can hear. The floorboards creak something awful, and there are these strange knocking sounds coming from the pipes in the walls.

Mrs.Gardner isn’t affected by the noises at all. When I brought them up over breakfast, she just seemed confused. I think, in her old age, she’s lost some of her hearing. Good for her, I guess. At least one of us should be getting some rest. 

June 14th

Mrs.Gardner has left town for a while. I get the house all to myself! I wanted to take this time to fix some things in her bedroom, but she locked the door on her way out. So instead, I’m redoing the tiling in the bathroom. It’s dirty work; there’s mold and muck everywhere, but it’s work that can’t be ignored forever. I’m trying to work as quickly as possible to make sure everything is done by the time Mrs.Gardner gets back. 

I’m staying up much longer than I should working on this. It’s probably for the best; my sleeping hasn’t gotten any better. If anything, the house has gotten even noisier since Mrs.Gardner left. With the bathroom floor missing some layers, the popping from the pipes is deafening. The staircase sounds like it’s crumbling under its own weight. I go to bed late and get up early. It’s exhausting, but at least I’m getting good work done.

June 16th

I accidentally broke one of Mrs.Gardner’s glass trinkets while dusting the living room (I really hope she won’t be too upset). I had to lift the carpet to clean out the shards that slipped under and I found… a trap door! It looks exactly like it does in the cartoons, with the round metal handle and everything. Unfortunately, it’s locked pretty tight. It’s not condemned, though; there’s definitely something down there. I dropped a penny between the cracks, and it took three whole seconds to hit the ground. 

I, of course, spent the rest of the evening trying to find the key. I’m ashamed to say I even tried prying it open with the crowbar I’d been using for the bathroom tiles. No dice. That door is closed and has no intention of opening anytime soon. I haven’t given up though. Giving it another shot will be my reward for finishing the bathroom before Mrs.Gardner comes back.

June 19th

Oh, peaceful sleep, how I miss thee! I spend my nights doing everything I can to drown out the sounds. I know it’s probably just a trick my ears are pulling on me, but I swear the noises have gotten even louder. Putting a pillow over my head doesn’t help anymore. I can feel my progress slowing, but I can’t help it. Fatigue is taking over as my concentration slips away from me.

Last night was the worst so far: I didn’t sleep a wink. Although, at some point during the night I landed in that delicate spot that sits right between sleep and consciousness., where dreams mix with reality just enough to mess with you. I remember looking up and seeing specks of red hovering in the space by the open door. I was so tired, and they were so blurry, but for a moment I mistook them for eyes, staring straight at me. The illusion disappeared soon after, but still, I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. Maybe I’ll try the couch tonight. Anything has to be better than this.

June 20th

As it turns out, the couch was a terrible idea. If I thought the knocking was loud in the bedroom, it’s nothing compared to the living room. I could barely hear myself think. 

I feel like I didn’t sleep again, but I must have. The sun came around too quickly for me to have been up waiting all night. I was so tired, I probably didn’t even notice.

June 20th - in the evening

I wasn’t going to write this down at first. It feels too ridiculous to even consider, but it’s all I can think about. I have to tell someone, even if it’s just a piece of paper. 

The red eyes came back last night. Staring at me from cracks in the trap door. They were a deep, deep red, with a slit pupil in the center. Like a snake. They didn’t blink, they just stared at me, and I could do nothing but stare right back. I was frozen. I felt like if I moved, even just a little, the door would open, and the eyes would come closer. I don’t know how long I laid there, looking at them, but eventually the sun rays came through the windows and the eyes were gone.

It was only a dream, I know. I only wish I could get myself to believe it.

June 22nd 

I’m almost done fixing the tiling in the bathroom. I just need to nail a few more things down, and everything will be set! I just hope I tired myself out enough to actually be able to fall asleep.

June 24th

No luck getting any rest yesterday. I was so close, right at the edge of falling asleep, when I heard a loud knocking noise coming from downstairs. It was so much louder than the others before, I almost got up to make sure nothing had fallen over. Instead, I just sat up in my bed and turned on the bedside lamp. I used to think it was perfect, just dim enough to help me fall asleep. But last night I really wished it was brighter. 

There’s never been any light in the hall outside my bedroom, but last night felt especially dark. I spent a few minutes staring right at the spot where the door hangs open, straight into pitch black, waiting for any other noise to follow the first one. The house stayed silent.

I told myself I would check on whatever had fallen the next morning and shut the light… But then, just as I was laying back down, another noise came from the staircase. It was one of its usual creaks, the familiar ones that have kept me up before. Somehow, this time, it kind of scared me. Like there was actually something coming up the stairs. So I turned the light back on, for even longer this time. Nothing.

When I shut the light again, I shut my eyes tight with it. There were a few seconds of peaceful silence, so I took the risk of opening my eyes again. 

For the briefest second, I saw them. Sharp, red eyes with snake-like pupils, looking at me from where the door hung open. 

I jumped up to switch the light back on. The eyes were gone. I was too afraid to turn it off, so I didn’t, and instead spent the night staring into the hallway.

Now, it’s almost noon, I’m sitting in the garden, and I feel ridiculous. The living room still looks like a mess from the few hours I spent trying to get the trap door open, but there was nothing broken, nothing out of place. Clearly, my tired imagination is getting the best of me.

June 25th

I fell asleep in the bathroom today, completely by accident, while working on the tiles. I guess I was more tired than I thought. Now, it’s nighttime, and I can’t fall asleep. There’s also a deep ache in my neck from where it rested against the bathroom wall during my nap. 

I’m going to put this journal down now, and turn the light off. I’m not a child who needs a nightlight. Everything will be okay in the morning.

June 26th

There was a loud noise downstairs again last night. I could’ve sworn it sounded like the trap door opening. I didn’t bother going downstairs, but I slept with the light on, just in case.

This morning, I checked on the trap door. It was still, of course, locked tight. This is getting ludicrous. I’m like a kid who’s watched one too many scary movies. I need to calm down, and take control of myself. 

June 27th

It’s not real. It’s not real.It’s not real.It’s not real It’s not real It’s not real It’s not real IT’S NOT REAL

June 28th

I tried dragging the couch over the trap door, but all I managed was to scratch the floor. The furniture in this house is large and heavy, and I’m nowhere near strong enough to even think of moving anything. 

But that’s okay, really. The door is still locked, afterall. There’s nothing getting in, and nothing getting out. Right?

June 30th

I would like to write that the red eyes didn’t come to haunt me last night. I would like to write that I had a peaceful and dreamless sleep. That the red yarrows are still on the kitchen table. That I didn’t throw them out because seeing the colour out of the corner of my eye makes me wince.

I would like to write that I am not afraid. But I was never a very good liar.

July 1rst

I can’t pretend it’s just a dream anymore. I know it’s there, looking, staring, waiting for me to make a mistake, to slip up, to stop paying attention. I know it’s the one making the noises at night. I can hear it hitting the trap door from the inside as I try to fall asleep. I know the cracking noises I hear are from the door opening, from the snake crawling up the stairs and to my door. Its eyes stare at me, and I stare right back, trying not to blink, trying not to fall asleep. 

When the sun rises, the red eyes go away. It’s only then that I dare going downstairs to check on the trap door. It’s always locked, like it was the morning before, like it’s always been. 

Early July

I don’t know how many days I’ve stayed awake, but one thing’s for sure: the eyes have stopped coming. The hallway is simply dark at night, no red anywhere to be seen. I don’t think letting my guard down is a good idea, but I’m running out of options. I can’t stay awake forever.  The noises are still there, as loud as ever, but I’m sure I’m tired enough to fall asleep despite them. My vision is getting blurry and I’ve had to stop working; my hands shake too much. 

One night. One night of rest is all I’ll need.

Night

I’ve made a terrible mistake. I was never safe, not even for a minute. 

I’m writing this with my back resting on my bedroom door, pressing my entire weight against it to try and hold it shut. Anything to stay busy. To keep myself from falling asleep.

The red eyes. I’ve called them snake-like for so long, it never even occurred to me that my impression of them could be wrong. 

I had just shut the light for the first time in days, laying in my bed, eyes glued to the vacant space by the door, when they appeared. Red, and sharp, like a predator’s. And then-

Oh god, I can feel it pressing against the door. It isn’t a snake, I was wrong. Its eyes, they’re like a cat’s. When they see prey, the pupils widen, and the red iris disappear.

All those nights I thought I was finally alone… 

The missing red wasn’t a sign of freedom. It was the first hint that the trap was closing in.

The floor behind the door is cracking so loudly. I’ll be okay, so long as I keep pressing the door closed. The eyes will go away, like they always do, the moment the sun comes up. I just hope I can keep myself awake until then.

x

#short story #short stories #horror #writing #suspense #thank you tumblr for making me post this 3 different ways

[blankdblank]

Forgotten Pt 8

Prologue - Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 -

…

…

Deep from under your mess of covers your arm broke free to claim your phone, gripping the ringing receiver and drawing it back through the tunnel your arm had formed with the chord still marking its path back again. Easing the cold plastic against your ear you inhaled and asked in a muddled mumble, “Is the shop on fire?”

With a velvety chuckle your drooped eyelids opened as your head lifted to your date stating, “No, fortunately not.”

“Um,” Poking your arm through the covers you brushed them back a few inches confirming the sun had still yet to rise before noticing the time marking it shortly before dawn.

“I know it’s a bit earlier than you usually wake up but I was wondering if you’d enjoy breakfast.”

Blinking again you squirmed your way back to your pillows from the center of the bed and propped up against them after turning over leaving your loose braid curled around your body. Halfway still asleep you dumbly answered, “I like breakfast usually.”

Fighting through his large smile Thranduil continued, “I was wondering if I might be able to make breakfast for you, at your place, papers should be out soon.”

Rubbing your face with your free hand you thought back to the contents of your fridge to say, “I’d have to go shopping, I forgot to the day before yesterday.”

Tapping his fingers on the counter in his kitchen Thranduil watched through his window as the lamp in your room lit up as he said, “You wouldn’t, I have everything. You’d just have to sit back and relax while I fix everything.”

“I’d at least make the tea, and toast. I only have cinnamon raison though.”

“My favorite, is that a yes?”

Nodding your head at his distant figure through the curtains you’d forgotten to close, his smile grew, “That’s a yes. I have a weakness for pancakes. And very spicy omelets.”

“Then that’s what I’ll fix for you. Be over in a few.” With an excited click the phone went dead causing you to fight your urge to drop back face first back into your pillows and fall back asleep. Returning the phone again you rose from bed to unlock your back door, lighting the kitchen and turning to your bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and roll your eyes at the loose braid, settling that he, in fact, had seen it in worse states at the shop. Brushing the nearly belt long braid back again you walked back to the kitchen pulling out your pans and kettle, filling it and letting it boil on the stove. 

Looking up again you noticed Thranduil bearing a large basket, an agitated yowling cat and a set of bowls stacked on top of the basket flashing you a smile when he caught your head passing to the door. With a momentary brush of your fingers against your bare thighs you froze remembering the large tank top and underwear you’d slept in. Turning sharply you darted back to your room again just as he entered.

With a puzzled expression he called out, “Everything alright?”

In a rapid shout back you answered, “I forgot my pants..”

Holding back his chuckle he nudged the door shut again before setting the cat down, adding his bowls along the wall near your row of counters across from your small dining room table and setting up all his supplies as you slipped back in the room grabbing the kettle as it whistled. Flashing a tired smile at you, in his still wrinkled flannel pajamas and loosely braided hair he eyed your sleeping clothes approvingly saying, “I know I sprung this on you, but thank you for agreeing to it. Helmsley doesn’t talk about anything but field mice and ribbons.”

With a smiling glance you eyed the cat aimlessly laying next to his full bowl eyeing the pair of you before laying its head back down again as he counted the seconds with flicks of his tail, “Thought about getting a cat once.”

Smiling at you again he replied starting his dicing for the omelet as you poured out two mugs of tea to both of your liking then putting the kettle back on the cooled back burner and sipped on your tea leaning against the counter across from him. “I, had a question. Well not really a question, but a request.”

“Please tell me you’re not buying another boat.” Setting your mug down as he chuckled and locked his eyes with yours.

“No. Nothing like that.” Setting the knife down he caught your eye again, “Would you, kindly order me to jump on this counter?”

Feeling your pulse race you inhaled and wet your lips tapping your fingers on the counter, “Why?”

Eyeing his smirk you swallowed dryly as he said, “There’s a good reason Legolas believed you to be perfect for me. And I would like you to know that you’re completely safe with me.”

Inhaling again you asked, “And why would I order..”

A soft smirk slid across his lips as he said, “One thing I know of the Noldor is they each have their own gifts, and the only Elves with Silver speckles in their eyes like that are Vanyar, who are well know for being able to control others with words, even glances.” Inhaling again shakily you glanced at Helmsley through his groan and exaggerated stretch as he added, “My Grandmother is Vanyar, and our kin are damn near impossible to find out of Valinor. I thought it might be comforting for you to know you don’t have to hold back with me.”

Tapping your fingers again his smile eased deeper as your shoulders relaxed, “So, if I told you-.”

He nodded at you through a comforting smirk, “-To jump on the counter…”

Shakily you stated feeling the silver in your eyes expanding blocking out their purple shade, “Jump on the counter.”

Smiling wider Thranduil chuckled leaning forward on the counter playfully ordering back with fully silver eyes from the silver lining around his icy blue eyes, “You first.”

Giggling softly your smile grew as he chuckled through his eyes shifting back again, “So it’s just the speckles that gave it away?”

Thranduil smiled grabbing his eggs to start cracking eggs to mix with the cheese and cuttings, “Actually, Ada spotted them first, a few things here and there. Traits you share with my Naneth, avoiding touch when possible, the clearly raised mental wall when doing so. And Legolas, he spotted you breaking up a fight in the pub, just with a flashing glance of silver the Dwarves missed as you drank your ale. Do they know?”

“Bifur and Bofur do, knew about my Naneth, took a guess why I didn’t set plans with the other kids. Turns out I’m a lot more like her than they expected. But they relaxed about it.”

Catching his eyes through another sip you tried to hide your smirk behind your mug admiring their shade as he sipped from his mug adding the mix to the pan before his saying, “I bet dances were difficult. I could barely shake someone’s hand without learning their whole life’s story. Though in the emergency room it did clarify a lot on how to heal patients.”

“Never went to any, couldn’t control it when I was dancing back then. Easier now though. I bet that made it so much heavier, the nonstop whispers.”

Folding the first omelet he smiled at you easing it onto a plate for you, “Yes, it did. Good to know. I take it the rumors are true, you didn’t date back then?”

“Setting aside my obviously repulsive appearance,” His eyes darted to you almost angrily wondering who would have dared say that about you while you eyed the mug in your hands, “I didn’t want to be with someone I had to hold back with. Most Elves have a higher tolerance, at least the Sindar around here. But they mostly thought I was boring or too busy.”

Chuckling softly after finishing his own omelet, he smiled watching as you set forks on the plates and he stole a bite of his before starting the pancakes, “Eat away, I’m nearly done. And I’m sure you were plenty spontaneous, in your own way.”

“Oh yes, skipping dances to carve boats, and insomnia filled nights with walks to collect spare logs for carvings and knick knacks.”

Chuckling again he smiled pouring the mixture into the pan, “Plenty spontaneous. I used to collect caterpillars in the forest around our home. Then I graduated to mice and other small creatures that seemed to listen to what I told them to do.”

Smirking you eyed Helmsley glancing at you making sure you were still eating before he claimed another bite of his food as you asked, “What about Helmsley? Cat’s refuse to listen to me.”

His smile grew flipping the first pancake, “Not a word, ignores everything I say.”

Giggling softly you caught his smile as you moved around him to make the toast, filling a plate and moving to the table with him carrying your freshly refilled mugs sharing smiles taking your seats as you said, “Figures, cats are just so damn stubborn against rules.”

Holding your smiles through your meal until he helped you clean up. Moving behind you to gently peck your cheek as you set the dishes on the drying rack and giggled at his hands claiming yours to curl you in a brief hug.

Quietly he led you to the open space in your dining room before twisting you around to face him. Easing your hands in place for a classic Elven dance hold and guiding you through the first few steps guiding his palms against yours through your chuckles at his soft humming, enjoying the contact without the usual rush of memories and thoughts flooding into your minds that bound you both to hold your mental walls up against any accidental touch. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a silent dance.”

Giggling softly you glanced down at Helmsley rubbing against your legs as he wove between you, “I take it you kept him for companionship then?”

Thranduil chuckled replying, “No, he had a habit of tearing through dressers. Not a very good pet for Legolas’ roommates to live with. And he refuses to eat alone, hence the sudden imposing of his company, I forgot to mention it before, sorry.”

You giggled again through the next twirl he led you through, “He’s not so bad.” Giggling again as his head stroked against your ankle, “Though he does make dancing a tad more difficult.”

Chuckling again Thranduil gently kissed your forehead pausing your dance as you went to turn off your alarm clock ringing in the other room. With another stolen peck on your forehead he gathered up his belongings saying, “I’ll let you get ready, thank you for joining me through breakfast.” Stealing another brief peck on the cheek, “And the dancing.”

Smiling up at him you pecked him on the cheek passing him the slightly imposed upon Helmsley and watched as he walked to his home to get ready as well for his own job.

…

Easing into your jeans after stripping out of your sleeping bottoms you added a pair of socks and your boots remaining in your comfortable tank top and eased your hair free from its braid to twist back in another braided bun. Tucking your braided bangs behind your ear you grabbed your keys and phone, locking up after chuckling at the folded image of you and Thranduil at the pub with you under his arm resting along the booth. Bending down you grabbed the paper and tucked it in the back of your jeans under your belt as you started your motorcycle. With a quick kick it was upright and the stand was folded back for the start of your brief drive in to work. Once again eyeing the scattered people also tending to their own early openings flashing you small waves you returned.

Parking in your spot you let the now heated engine shut off as you eased your bike back onto the stand and walked inside drawing out the keys and your paper. After your short opening tasks you plopped down on a rolling stool kicking your feet up on the tall tool box beside you. Front page right in the center was your picture with a lengthy recap of the night prior along with a brief retelling of your former dateless existence ending with a single hopeful sentence, “Do we hear wedding bells off in the distance?”

Sighing softly you flipped the page reading through the random articles until reaching the bottom half causing your brows to furrow, “Save the pub fundraiser tonight!”

Laying the paper flat on your lap you rubbed your face with a soft grumble as Tauriel’s memories and thoughts rippled through your mind from the last time you’d accidentally brushed fingers through her passing you your drink on a stop in at the pub a few days before she’d taken off. Lowering your hands you couldn’t help but think back to the medium wooden sized box back at home you’d filled with the money Kili and the former owner had refused to accept from you for your food and drinks. “You’re family, we don’t charge family.”

Where with all the other Durins you were the lone one to not draw out any cash no matter how you refused against the charity. Always with a Durin calling out, “We’re your family too!”

To which they always rebutted, “Blood, sure. But she never complains about my cooking!” Always gaining a loud round of laughter from the group about his non-Dwarfly use of spices and seasonings in his meals.

..

After finishing your paper and making a few plans on your phone you folded it up again. Leaving it on your desk before grabbing your usual set of coveralls and heading to the same boat belonging to your former dance partner and you climbed inside to finish the repairs to the engine hold. Then returned to the main hold to start patching the few small damaged parts there. Looking around you eyed the large living quarters for a boat this size that you’d scrapped and stripped to start over fresh as a fire had ruined most of it anyway. Hours passed as you barely noticed Dwalin, lost in your soft echoing hums, easing into the boat to aid you in the scraping and patching before you marked out where everything would be placed through the reinstall from your notes.

Blowing hard at the metal bead tapping against your nose through your next stroke of sand paper you rose to your knees twitching your head to the left landing it back alongside your ear again as your stomach growled loudly echoing in the metal enclosure. With a deep chuckle Dwalin helped you to your feet and back off the ship to have the group of Durins show you back to the pub for your usual shared lunch after you’d all folded back the upper half of your coveralls to tie around your waist.

After the short walk you caught the same brunette setting your usual choices on the table as you sat down. With an easing of his sweating palms over the front of his jeans Kili eyed you asking with a forced happy expression, “So, heard about your date. Congrats.”

Chuckling softly you rolled your eyes, “Well if you read the papers apparently we’re already set for marriage, even before our date.”

Thorin chuckled, “Cute picture of you two though.”

Dwalin, “Not right that they buried the story about the pub.”

“Much more important than my night out.”

Fenrir, “I would say they’re both equally as shocking.”

Rolling your eyes again you mentally slammed up your mental wall as he nudged your arm trying to make you smile again. Looking back up again your eyes locked with Kili’s eyeing his pained expression slowly filling your mind with echoes from the pub around you of his now constant stares at you since his return and an echo of his former fight with Fili causing you to look away back to your food.

Blinking through your unwanted clarification of his behavior you finished your meal and led the way back to work easing the money into his back pocket, in your usual habit knowing he’d find it later. Normally sure to slip back to your shop later and sneak it back to you again, though hopefully he would skip the second half this time as you settled on your plan, unable to bear the thought of him losing everything.

.

Even against your wish to pull back to spare his feeling at your not having the same attachment to him, but you couldn’t just sit by and let him suffer through this when you could help him. Easing through the rest of the day, even through yet another crowded arrival of Thranduil who smiled as he spotted the same woman he couldn’t stop thinking about since breakfast. Approaching and resting his arms along the side of the boat asking, “How’s she looking?”

You smiled and rested against the side of the boat, “Sleeper hold should be ready for the install after tomorrow. Though I have to make a stop over in the factory the next town over tonight. Something about finalizing the necessary pieces.”

His smile eased wider as he relaxed more simply in your presence, “Need some company?”

“It’s a long drive, should be back just in time to eat and run back to work again.”

“You’re not going to sleep at all?”

“I can go days without sleep.”

Shifting his hand it rested across yours out of sight from the others, “And our date is the following day. The boat can wait.”

Chuckling softly you eased your fingers against his shooting him another easy smile, “It’s been months and I finally get to look into adding to the boat, not just tearing it apart. I’m going, it’s one night and don’t worry, I’ll be plenty rested for Saturday.”

Sighing softly he eyed you adoringly then said, “At least let me make you breakfast again.”

“Of course. I look forward to seeing you and Helmsley.”

Chuckling softly he exhaled slowly as he eyed his watch before giving your hand a gentle squeeze and said, “I have to get back, but I wish you safe travels and I look forward to breakfast.”

“I can go to yours if it’d be easier.”

“If you’d like. Then I could give you the tour and have the full meal ready when you get there. Same time alright?”

You nodded, “I’ll be there.”

Smiling again his hand squeezed yours then released it and pulled away returning to work through the crowd of Durins who again waited then grouped around you again with eager smiles for news.

...

All around the packed pub you eased through the crowds with your mental wall locked in place. Feeling the eyes of the blonde Durin in his usual habit of trailing you to the bar accepting the sandwich Kili had set out for you. His eyes trailed your hand dropping a few bills into the now overflowing tin with the few bills here and there that everyone in town could afford to give, nowhere close to what he needed. With a sharp exhale Kili forced a soft smile on his face as you swatted his hand away from the tin saying, “Now of all times just keep the money Kili.”

Nodding briefly his head sharply turned towards his Uncles at the other end of the bar requesting another refill. Tapping his hand on the bar he locked his eyes with yours again flashing you another smile coated with his adorably deep dimples, “Fine. Just this once.” Then turned away.

Easing your hand in your pocket again, you gripped the three folded and bound stacks of bills, counting up into the tens of thousands. The sight of the donation making Fili’s lips part behind his raised mug as he alone eyed you slipping them under the single bills laying on top before turning away and strolling back to the door snacking on the partially wrapped sandwich on your walk home. Ignoring the rush of swirling thoughts and voices around you, you continued until you found the empty parking lot of your shop where you tossed your trash and started your bike up again.

.

Back on your bike you stopped at home briefly to grab your jacket, shades and helmet then left town making sure to fill up your tank before you did. Making it to the factory for a brief drop in to look over the list and stop at the nearest diner. Entering the yellow painted diner you kept your shades on, drawing the same paper you’d bought from across the street from the day prior to keep yourself occupied. Glancing up from behind your shades a set of familiar figures strolled in through your second cup of tea after you’d finished your sandwich. 

Trailing their movements to their seat your eyes shifted to silver as hushed whispers flowed from your mind into theirs as you rose, leaving the cash for your meal on the counter making sure to just barely brush against them in their walk past you, finalizing your mental orders and strolling out. Folding the paper again you watched the pair freezing in place as you pocketed it in your jacket and added your helmet again. Trailing their path out of the diner after they patted their pockets mimicking the realization they’d forgotten their wallets before heading to their hotel.

Starting your bike you smirked and rode towards the nearest gas station to fill up again before returning back home again. Enjoying the long ride you mentally trailed the couple logging onto their laptop and wiring the money they’d stolen back into Kili’s accounts along with their hurried packing of all the papers and documents they’d taken. Packing them in brown sealed folders and dropping them for overnight shipping before following your final order. Leaving town in separate directions never to speak again and for Tauriel never to contact Kili or return to your town again as all memory of any personal information about him and his accounts dissolved from her memory. 

For once you’d caved in and broken your self imposed rule not to interfere, but they’d both clearly crossed a line and the situation needed to be set right. Of course you could have made them do anything, leading to a wide variety of possible tasks and punishments you could have put them through. Instead you eased back and settled on just having them give it all back and vanish under your imposed banishment. For all the years you’d wished Kili happiness, even through the brutal reality he could never be the one creature you’d been aching to see and hold again, to see her harm him snapped the last tether of your restraint in striking back.

…

“Nice turnout.” Mal grinned up at Kili stirring a grin onto his face away from the spot you had previously occupied on other nights now taken by a group of bickering neighbors debating what would be taking the place of the pub if Kili would end up losing it. Without a moments notice his attentions focused on her and in her claiming her usual stool he managed to settle a score of orders until a small lull could be found to talk more with her.

Off in the corner however Thorin and Bilbo snuggled in their corner booth while Dwalin stole the chance to stay at home with the boys alongside Frerin, both of whom were settled on helping the boys with a few magic tricks they had requested help with from their shared kit they had sent off for. For as long as she could muster Mal lingered around but eventually had to head home to get some sleep for work, taking with her Kili’s grin leaving him in his busy moping mood.

The hours trudged on and everyone in town seemed to drop by, including Thranduil, who managed to sneak in a decent chunk of cash he had managed to pull together on short notice. Only a few hundred but still far over the usual pocket change and wrinkled grouping of bills from everyone else in their finely budgeted townsfolk due to readying for the final string of storms rolling through town keeping the usual spring and summer visitors away lessoning the income for now.

 ...

Parking again in your covered driveway you stood and stretched. Climbing off your bike and entering your home, leaving the paper and your jacket before brushing your teeth and brushing through your hair spotting the lights flicking on in the mansion near your home. Changing your tank top to a plain black t shirt you walked out into the cool air again crossing the stretch of green as Thranduil moved through his kitchen setting everything up. 

Drawing closer you eyed the intricate carvings coating his vast Manor and climbed the back steps, pulling off your boots to leave by the door he opened for you with a wide sleepy smile. Sidestepping and allowing you through into the gorgeous kitchen making you wonder why he’d want to even eat at your small cottage.

Gently sliding his hand across your upper back he asked in his same calm velvety tone, “Everything go well?”

You nodded up at him accepting his leading you to the kitchen and setting you up on the counter with another soft smile locking his eyes with yours catching a wave of muddled scents curled around you from your trip, including one he knew as Tauriel’s. “Ya. Should be in our shop in a few days.”

Settling his hand alongside you his smile deepened as you brushed a few stray strands of his glowing hair behind his ear, “I hoped I could have seen you last night before you left. Pub was packed. Barely managed to slip inside.”

You giggled softly at his head turning to kiss your palm beside his face. With a grin you eased it along his left bicep beside you, slowly bringing him closer to you as you said, “Just stopped in for a few minutes. Grabbed my usual and slipped back out again, bit too crowded to keep my walls up.”

Barely inches from your lips his hushed whispers ghosted across your skin, “I hate that feeling.”

Relaxing your head against his, along with his body against your legs, his lips met yours gently. The kiss steadily deepened, your hands easing around the back of his neck while he shifted closer to you. Holding it your walls eased down revealing your growing trust, timidly opening up and holding your mental borders waiting until the other would offer up a memory or thought to share.

A sudden grumble broke his lips from yours at the small set of teeth pressing into his calf. Looking down his eyes met with the cat alerting him of his current still unfed status. Smirking softly Thranduil chuckled as you pecked him on the cheek and gently turned him back to the ignored supplies and jumped down to help him prepare the meal. 

Once again he claimed the dicing and stole a few kisses in between. Preparing the various parts of the meal and set it all out on the table claiming the chair beside his and you giggled at him scooting even closer to peck your cheek as Helmlsey eyed the pair of you before curling his poofy tail around his feet and started eating. Glancing around again you raised your fork gently easing it into the stack of pancakes feeling Thranduil’s eyes scanning over you again as you said, “It really is gorgeous. Your Ada never really had it up for visitors. Just finished the remodel before he left.”

“Thank you. Yes, that made me curious on his timing to leave. I do like yours as well, much more homey.”

Chuckling softly you said, “You can say it’s small. I think it’d fit in this kitchen of yours.”

His eyes locked with yours again as he leaned in to kiss you again making you chuckle again, “Hey, I enjoy being there because it suits you. You made it so comfortable to be in.” His lips met yours again breaking your playful glare, “And also because you’re there. Bit hard to fix all this place up to feel like home yet. Managed a few rooms though.”

“That why you can’t sleep?”

“Partly.” Reaching up he eased your hair back behind your ear eyeing the few strands of silver hair wound in each of your curls reflecting the rising sun’s light, “Still used to the 48 hour shifts. It’ll pass.”

Turning your head you eyed the chiming clock in the corner of the room and rose to your feet gathering your dishes as he did the same to add them to the sink. Curling around your back again and smiling wider at your turning to face him for a hug ending with another kiss as he led you back to the door again. Releasing you and brushing your hair over your shoulder again easing his fingers through to the ends saying, “Don’t forget to sleep today.”

Giggling again you nodded moving outside to pull on your boots again, “I will not forget.” Trading another set of smiles before accepting Helmsley’s body rubbing against your leg before trotting back inside as you walked back home again easing your fingers across your still tingling lips slipping inside your cottage. Strolling through and locking up again as you pulled your hair up again and drove into work.

…

Helmsley leapt up on the counter, “I like her.”

Thranduil, “As do I.”

“You should mate tonight.”

Thranduil’s eyes fell on him, “What?”

“She is fertile today. You have plans to meet. You should mate.”

Thranduil, “We do not mate as your species does.”

Helmsley’s tail swished, “Don’t you want kittens by Summer?”

Thranduil sighed, “I am not giving you a biology lesson, however, Elves are with child for over a year, far longer than your kind. Plus, the female chooses when to mate.”

Helmsley shimmied then hopped down following Thranduil on his path to his room, “She is ready. Clearly you have shown that you have a suitable nest for her litters.”

Thranduil sighed, “I am not having this discussion with you.”

When a door was shut between them Helmsley eased his paw under the door, “Her coat is so long and curly. Imagine the kittens with her glowing eyes. They would be tall from you and have her apple scent.”

Thranduil sighed opening the door peering down on the cat splayed out on his back, “We are not ready for kittens.” He stated then walked back to his closet to strip and change.

Rolling over the cat trotted into his closet, “What more could you need. She is fertile, you have allured her, feed her, circle her and then mount her.”

Pursing his lips for a moment Thranduil’s mind raced at the thoughts he was trying to hold back at his words, “There are other requirements.”

“Oh?”

“Words to be said, trust to be won, certain markers to be earned before kittens. Usually kittens come after an engagement, sharing a home, marriage and readying for that step.”

Helmsley sighed flopping onto his side swatting at the sock dangling from the drawer he had opened, “Why do you complicate things? Just mount her tonight, she will conceive and you can handle the rest later while the kittens are growing.”

Pt 9

#Thranduil x OC #Kili x OC #Bagginshield #Hobbit #lotr

[real-sotenbori-hours]

Thistle - *Tachibana Tetsu x Fem Reader*

Summary: He runs a perilous business, which makes your yearning for him hazardous to you. Oh yeah, he's also your boss... but doesn't that make it all the more fun? 

 Warnings/themes: Angst, fluff, forbidden love, tension, frustration, passion 

 Notes: This was my first challenge, I very much enjoyed it! What was the most challenging part about it? Following the No Smut guideline, of course, because I'm a fucking fiend. So I think I'll probably definitely be following up with a filthy Part 2 because Tachibana Tetsu is a savory little morsel that does not get enough love or action and I will personally see to it that he does because he fucking deserves it. 

Ahh, Tachibana Real Estate... your home away from home. A ball breaking, take-no-prisoners realty outfit that stops at nothing to attain what’s in its sights. You might not be one of the team’s heavy hitters, but you do the administrative grunt work. You’re the discs in the spine of this landholding monster, your effort and support allow it to move.

  For a company that operates so heavily in the vein of intimidation, manipulation and mild forms of extortion, you really don’t mind the methods because its head, Tachibana Tetsu is a man of principle, honor and diligence. Ironic perhaps, but you see it as true opportunism and just plain business savvy.

  Plus, you enjoy your work. You feel a special desire to assist your boss in any way necessary, no matter the lengths. The reason is simple: you’re a gaijin residing in Japan, making steady work difficult to come by at times. Or rather, jobs that befit you. Tachibana-san loved that you were a foreigner, as he himself was half-Chinese, half-Japanese. He understood all too well how challenging it could be to find your place in a city not of your origin, and he applauded anyone determined to make it work... as he did.

  Being so appreciated by your boss, a man you admired greatly meant the absolute world to you. He made you feel whole, as a valued member of something. You cared about him and his well-being, considering that his health was a fragile thing, too. He knew that anytime he needed something, especially if of a sensitive nature, he could rely on you... and you on him. 

 To the untrained eye, it may look like the two of you were closer than professional or platonic. When he’d speak to you he’d smile warmly, keeping his eyes on you attentively, to the point that you’d melt like warm honey. If he’d sense that you’re troubled, he’d brush your face with his hand and assure you he’d be there to help you in any way you needed. He’d tap your hand with his, clothed in fine black leather, reminding you that you’re strong and capable of withstanding any adversity that came your way. 

 You truly, deeply loved him, more than you've ever loved any other man. You felt that he denied himself the potential of real happiness because of the tragedies of his past and the complexities of his present. He’s unflinchingly stoic. Irritatingly so. You wanted him to thrive, but you forced yourself to accept his decisions. The subject had been addressed, and the conclusion was exactly what you assumed: the feelings were mutual, but he couldn’t risk harm befalling you. He was convinced if your relationship deepened any further, you’d be in perpetual danger as he had quite the array of formidable enemies. 

 Of course that only made you want him more, but you knew he was right. Though you were willing to roll the dice, he refused to entertain it. He couldn’t stand the idea of anything happening to you, especially because of him. He cared too much for you to test it. 

 To get your mind off of him, you tried to date casually. One cold, rainy evening after a few drinks and a particularly rough date, you walked back up the street to the office to decompress. For a variety of reasons, you felt more comfortable there than anywhere else and you figured you’d take a nap on the couch, resting more peacefully than you do in your own home. As soon as you unlocked the door and slipped in, you noticed the foyer lamps were on as well as the faint splinter of light sneaking out of Tachibana’s office door, slightly ajar. 

 You tried so hard to be stealth and of course as soon as you told yourself to step lightly, you dropped your keys, shattering the silence around you, alarming Tachibana-san, cursing yourself. 

 Somehow, he knew it was you. 

 “Y/N-san?” He called to you from within his sprawling office. You hung your head, you must’ve disturbed him if he’s here this late. You didn’t want to track water all over the floors but even more so, you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You walk slowly to his doors, pressing the further one in with your fingertips and sigh, entering.

  He’s standing with his back to you, facing the wall of windows. “Y/N-san, are you alright?”

  You clumsily grab a chair and sit down, trying your best to conceal your intoxication. You sigh again, deeper this time, folding your hands in your lap. “Not really, Tachibana-san. But I’ll be fine. What about you, why are you here so late?”

  He chuckles and turns on his heel, facing you from behind his desk. As he regards you, a look of concern instantly apprehends his beautiful face. “Y/N-san, you’re soaking.” He darts across his office to a wall of cabinets, retrieving a neatly folded stack of soft, white towels. Almost teleporting before you as he urgently presents them, imploring you to take care, he appraises your expression and that heartwarming smile peels across his face. “Did you walk in the rain?”

  You take a towel to your hair, squeezing the loose droplets of water out of your tresses. “I was just up the street, I thought I’d go out for a bit.”

  He steps closer, sensing your affect as less than content, draping a large towel around your shoulders. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks, hopefully. 

 You shake your head nonchalantly, “Not particularly, but so it goes..." Dabbing your clothing with the towel enveloping you, you hang it over the back of the chair and shrug, trying to shift the focus. "So, are you working late, Tachibana-san?” 

 He blinks long and hard. “You could call it that, sure.” 

 You sit up, “Can I help with anything?” 

 He smiles again... you swear, he looks like a fucking angel. “You can help me understand why you’re down, and why you’d come all the way back here after a disappointing evening...” he hands you the last dry towel and crosses his arms, examining you further. 

 And there you go... the way he shows you how much he cares about you, the way he tenderly furnishes you with any possible thing you could need, pressing you to confide in him, staring into your soul with such gentleness... the drinks loosened you up and his presence unzips you and you burst into tears. 

 “I didn’t feel like going home, being alone... I just wanted to be here...” Your breath keeps catching in your chest and you want more than anything to stop crying. Tachibana places a hand on your shoulder, gripping you reassuringly, “It’s okay, Y/N-san. Whatever makes you feel safest.” 

 He bends slightly further at his waist, meeting the distance of your stare, pulling you back into the light. “Please tell me what happened... what upset you? It hurts me to see you so sad.” 

 You bury your face in your hands, muffling your concession. “I went on a date and from the moment it started, I just wanted it to be over. I just can't do it. I try, but I just can’t...”

 “Y/N-san, you’re a very beautiful woman; caring, sensitive... it will be a lucky man that finds you. Don’t—”

 You can’t stand it. You won’t. 

 You leap up from your seat, livid, fists balled at your sides. “No, Tetsu... I can’t hear this from you. You’re breaking my heart.” You begin to sob uncontrollably, shaking. Hiding your face again, you whimper, “You know how much I love you... I can’t even see anyone, all I want is you.”

  Tachibana wraps his arms around you, setting your heart and body ablaze, cupping the back of your head with one hand and your waist with the other. You immediately reciprocate his embrace, resting your cheek upon his shoulder, planting your hands on his chest, reveling in the physical contact... and then you push yourself free, irate once again.

  You cross your arms, fully aware of the angry blush on your face as you glare at him, pouting like an adorably petulant child. 

 He continues to analyze you, somewhat stunned as a knowing smirk appears. “Ah... I see. And you’ve had a couple of drinks, so now you can tell me how you feel?”

  Embarrassment begins to creep in. It’s time to go. You fold the towel closest to you, setting it atop the desk as you grab your bag. “I’d better go. I’m going to get some sleep.” As you turn away, he grabs your arm, pulling you to stand before him. He rests his gloved thumb on your chin, his fingers along your jawbone, he brings his other hand to frame your face as he searches your eyes, pained by your pain, sharing your hurt more than you knew.

  “Y/N, we’ve discussed this. No matter how deeply I desire you, I cannot indulge you because it would be selfish for me to...”

 He’s driving you nuts right now, and not in the good way. “Selfish?! What about MY desire?! If you want me as I want you, what’s selfish is denying me, as if I have no say...”

 He grips both of your arms and looks longingly into your eyes, as if to drive his point home. “I could never endanger you for the sake of pleasure, Y/N-san. I’d be beside myself if anything ever—”

 You shake your head violently. “If you don’t love me, then say it. I don’t just want pleasure, I want you, completely.”

 His lips part, speechless. He narrows his eyes as he scans yours again, gripping your face with both hands. “How could you think I don’t love you? My heart stopped the moment I first saw you. I’ve loved you ever since. But I made a promise to you, Y/N-san. I promised I’d be there for you. If something terrible were to happen to you, how could I keep my word?”

  “That’s no way to live. I can’t keep going through each day, pining for you, pretending that I’m not. It’s killing me. I want to be your woman. But this is too much, I can’t do this anymore... I... I have to go.” You’re sick at the thought of sealing your fate, of possibly leaving the building for the last time. But you made your bed, you said everything. You can’t go back on it now.

  You turn towards the door once again, quickly closing the space as you reach for the handle. 

 Just as your fingers graze the knob, Tachibana’s hand whizzes past your peripheral, slamming the door shut. He grabs and turns you around, pinning you against it, clutching your face, finally crashing his lips to yours. Gripping your face with his gloved hand, pulling you in deeper. Ecstasy. Your lips roll and overlap, tongues immediately running along each other’s lengths, teeth scraping all surrounding skin... a kiss more passionate than every fantasy you’ve entertained. It went on, uninterrupted for minutes... and minutes.

 He runs his hand from your face down your neck, over and along your chest, matching his other hand on your hips, grabbing you hard, deliberately, bringing you in so much closer, sealing it with another tight embrace. You twist your fingers into his sexy slicked back hair, something you’ve longed to do for too damn long. Your mouths would part for a second before you’d both feverishly reunite them, aching for more. You could do this for hours.

  You grab his leather clad hand and bring it up to your neck, pressing down on his fingers, urging him to follow suit. He does, just for a second, then bites and sucks your bottom lip as consolation, pulling away.

  He leans past you and reaches for the knob to the door. You straighten up, watching him intently, desperate to read his mind now that you’ve both reached a place from which there’s no return.

  He can feel your anxiousness brewing and meets your eyes with a devious look in his. “Alright, Y/N-san, let’s get you home. I want to make sure you arrive... unscathed.” He runs his hand down your back, resting it just above the place where your legs meet. 

  Your excitement gets the best of you as you smugly reply, “Kissing me breaks the promise... remember?”

 He laughs. God, you love it when he laughs. 

 Taking your hand in his and once again gripping your face with the other, he muses, “Y/N-san, I’ll keep my promise to you. I’ll be by your side. The promise I’ve broken is the one I made to myself when I hired you, that I’d put you to work and that I’d never cross the line. But I can live with it if you can. Now I want to take you home, and I’d like to stay with you tonight, if I may.”

  Lightning courses through your body. You can’t believe this is finally going to happen. You pull his face down to yours again, kissing him deeper still, tugging on his hair, dragging him against you and breaking away as the passion swelled.

 You eagerly lead the way, pulling the door open, turning to him and beaming as you give him your hand again, tightly interlacing your fingers, tingling. “Just you wait. You’ve no idea how good I’m gonna make you feel, Tetsu.” 

#tachibana tetsu #tetsu tachibana #yakuza zero #yakuza fanfiction #yakuza fanfic #tachibana tetsu fanfic #tachibana tetsu x female reader #tachibana tetsu x you #tetsu tachibana x female reader #tetsu tachibana x you #tachibana tetsu fanfiction #tetsu tachibana fanfic #tetsu tachibana fanfiction #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku fanfic #ryu ga gotoku fanfiction #ryu ga gotoku zero #yakuza 0 #ryu ga gotoku 0

[emjenenla]

I was younger then, take me back to when I found my heart and broke it here [A Six of Crows Fanfic]

It wasn’t until she stepped off the boat onto the docks of Ketterdam that Nina Zenik realized she hadn’t really expected to ever come back. Or Nina returns to Ketterdam and goes on a life-changing field trip with Kaz.

Warnings: PTSD, some reanimated corpses because its Nina

I don't own Six of Crows. Title comes from "Castle on the Hill" by Ed Sheeran.

I actually started this last spring, but then put it on the back burner because I thought it was too much like everything else I was publishing at the time (though looking back, I'm not sure why I thought that). I'm hoping to write some more Six of Crows stuff, because the number of fics I've written for this duology is a poor reflection how much I love it, but I've never been good at finishing things (and I've got an eighteen page document full of one-to-two sentence descriptions of fanfics) so we'll see.

Also, the summary is a bit of an exaggeration, but did you get the reference?

It wasn’t until she stepped off the boat onto the docks of Ketterdam that Nina Zenik realized she hadn’t really expected to ever come back. She had been dodging Jesper, Wylan and Inej’s requests to come back because they missed her by saying she needed more time to figure everything out. It wasn’t until her boots hit the sea-softened boards of Fourth Harbor that she realized those had just been excuses to get them off her back. She had never meant to come back to the city that had taken Matthias from her and didn’t quite understand why she’d come back now.

She stood on the dock lost in this new understanding as the other passengers of the cargo boat she’d ridden from Ravka pushed by her. Why was she here? Why would she willingly have returned to the place that Matthias had died after all this time? It wasn’t like she expected it to be any less vile now than it had been when she was seventeen. She had half a mind to hop the next boat leaving and get out, but common sense stopped her. She was here now and she wasn’t a bad enough friend to just leave without at least saying hi.

She also found that she didn’t want to go straight to the Van Eck mansion. If she saw Jesper and Wylan now while she wasn’t sure why she had come here in the first place she might forget that she didn’t want to be here. Before she faced them she needed to be reminded exactly what kind of place Ketterdam was and why she’d left, and she knew the perfect place for that.

The Slat had not changed in the years she’d been gone. Nina wasn’t sure why she’d expected Kaz to actually fix the place up after getting his hands on four million  kruge, because now that she thought about she couldn’t think of a good reason why he would have. After a moment of simply looking up at the building, she shoved aside a hearty dose of déjà vu and let herself in.

The atmosphere of the Dregs’ hideout had not changed. There were still people lounging around, drinking and talking and flirting and playing cards. It was still a disreputable cesspit just like it had been when Nina had hung out here, but there was now not a single familiar face. The realization was so startling Nina stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t come to Slat for warm fuzzy feelings, but she had expected to see Pim and Keeg and Anika and all the other girls and boys she had laughed and plotted and flirted with as a teenager. The sea of unfamiliar faces that turned to look at her made her unexpectedly sad.

After a moment a blonde boy in his late teens detached himself from a cluster of people and stalked towards her. He puffed his chest out in a way that was vaguely ridiculous. “This is Dregs territory,” he said, “What do you want?”

“I’m here to see Kaz Brekker,” Nina said. “Tell him that Nina Zenik is here.” She almost added that Kaz would definitely want to see her, but stopped herself. She hadn’t actually spoken to Kaz, even in letters, since she’d left Ketterdam. The only reason she knew that someone hadn’t managed to kill him was because Inej, Jesper and Wylan talked about him in their letters.

The boy snorted in a way that he probably thought was intimidating. “Yeah, no dice. We don’t let just anyone see the boss.”

“I’m a member of the Dregs,” Nina said. “I’ve been away for a couple years, but now I need to see Kaz.”

“I don’t believe you,” the boy said.

Nina heaved a sigh and pushed up her sleeve to bare the Dregs crow and cup on her forearm. She’d thought about finding a Corporalnik who still had their regular powers to remove it for years, but it had never felt right, now she was glad she hadn’t. “Here,” she grumbled. “Believe me now?”

“No,” the boy said sounding pleased that he got to be so contrary. “You either had someone tattoo that on you in preparation for this or you’re a traitor. Either way you’re going to be dead.”

Nina tensed, preparing for a fight. She’d come here wanting a reminder of why she didn’t want to stay in Ketterdam, and it appeared she was going to get more of one than she’d anticipated. “Listen, you little-”

“Espen!” a familiar voice called out. “What’s going on?”

Nina and the boy both turned to see a blonde woman standing in the entrance to the office that had once been Per Haskell’s. It took Nina a moment to recognize Anika, who had somehow always remained a teenager in her mind. Anika had shaved both sides of her head and pulled the remaining hair on the top of her head back in a ponytail. She glared at them both. It was the look of someone who was used to being obeyed.

“This woman is trying to see the boss,” the boy said. “She has a Dregs tattoo so she’s either an impostor a traitor. I say we kill her.”

Anika’s gaze turned to Nina and her pale eyebrows rose. “Nina Zenik?” she asked.

Nina grinned. “The very same.”

“I was starting to think you were dead,” Anika said without any intonation to suggest how she felt about being proved wrong. “Where have you been?”

Nina didn’t see the point in lying about it. “Ravka and Fjerda,” she said. “I’ve been taking care of some stuff.”

“And now you’re here,” Anika said, still tonelessly.

“I am,” Nina said. “Can I see Kaz?”

Anika thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “He’s not working on anything major right now. Get over here.”

The boy spluttered. “What? She just admitted to abandoning the gang! She’s a traitor! She deserves to die!”

Anika fixed him with a glare. “Espen, which one of us is the top lieutenant of this gang?”

The boy looked like he was going to keep arguing for a while, then his shoulders slumped. “You are,” he grumbled.

“Good, and I say she can see Kaz,” Anika said. “Come on, Nina.”

Nina crossed the room, ignoring the weight of the Dregs’ eyes on her back. Anika rapped her knuckles on the door, then opened it and started inside. “Boss? You’ll never believe what the tides brought in.”

Nina stepped into the room after Anika. “Hey, Kaz.”

Nina had only been in Per Haskell’s office a handful of times, but she remembered that it hadn’t looked this much like an office when the old man had used it. The shelves were lined with books and papers. The windows were closed with heavy black shades and several oil lamps lit the room. The large desk was covered with papers and ledgers and a few scattered weapons and lockpicks.

Kaz Brekker sat in the large chair behind the desk. He too had aged in a way that Nina hadn’t expected. She had never found him attractive--even if you ignored his many scars he was decidedly average-looking--but now he looked even more macabre than he had at seventeen. He’d lost baby fat Nina hadn’t even realized he had, his face going even more hollow and sharp and pale. His eyes were still and sharp and shark-like as ever, though, and Nina’s sudden reappearance in his life only got a raised eyebrow.

“Nina,” He said looking her up and down in a firm, appraising way. “It appears reforming drüskelle suits you.”

“Kaz,” she mimicked. “It appears being a Barrel Boss doesn’t suit you. You look like a ghoul. Do you eat?”

Kaz grinned, it was a thin, knife-like flash of teeth. “Occasionally.”

“Espen was advocating for killing her as a traitor,” Anika said to Kaz. “I had to pull rank on him again. We need to do something about that kid.”

“I know,” Kaz said. “I’m working on it.”

“We should strip him of his rank,” Anika said. “A couple weeks cleaning the gambling houses might be just the attitude adjustment he needs.”

“I’d do that,” Kaz replied a little tightly, “if I didn’t know that all it would do was drive him to another gang. He’s a far better spider than either Roeder and Minna are; if he were to start running with the Razorgulls or something we’d have a real problem.”

“We can’t just do nothing,” Anika said. “He barely listens to me anymore, how long do we have before he stops listening to you too?”

“I said I was working on it,” Kaz growled. “Now I’d like to have a conversation with Nina. Go get Gustaaf’s report. He should have just gotten back from the docks.”

“Fine,” Anika nodded. “I’ll be back.”

Nina waited until the door closed behind the other woman before she spoke, “Who’s Gustaaf?”

“Member of the Dregs.” Kaz said. “Why do you care?”

“Aside from Anika and you, I haven’t seen anyone I know,” Nina said. “What happened to everyone?”

“Roeder’s probably sleeping; he was working last night,” Kaz said. “Pim oversees all our gambling dens now. He’ll be in to report in another hour or so.”

Nina waited for a minute to see if he was going to go on, but he didn’t. “Well?” she asked. “What about Keeg? Dirix? Rotty? Specht?”

“Specht works for Inej,” Kaz said. “The rest are dead.”

“What?” Nina gaped. “All of them?”

Kaz nodded sharply.

“Don’t you ever let anyone retire?” Nina asked, shock making her voice quieter than she would have liked.

“No one retires in the Barrel, Nina dear,” Kaz said. “We don’t live long enough.”

There was a long pause, then Nina forced herself to change the subject before she thought about that to much. “So I see you’ve taken over Per Haskell’s office,” she said lightly. “Does that mean you’re living in his rooms too?” She gestured at the closed door to what had once been Per Haskell’s private apartments.

“Those are storage,” Kaz said. “The mere thought of sleeping in that man’s bed is enough to give you some kind of raging disease or parasite.”

“He wasn’t that dirty,” Nina said, but she couldn’t keep from smiling.

Kaz shrugged. “So why are you here, Nina? Last I heard you were in Overüt.”

That had been the last place Nina had been and Kaz said it so casually that it took her a minute to remember that he wasn’t supposed to know that. She never told Inej, Jesper and Wylan where she was, so there was definitely no way that Kaz Brekker could--

“Wait, have you been keeping tabs on me?” she asked.

“Only a little,” Kaz said with another shrug. He didn’t even pretend to be ashamed. “Inej, Jesper and Wylan have been worried about you.”

“And have you?” she ventured after a moment.

Kaz gave her a flat look that clearly said,  “Would you expect me to admit it if I have?” After a moment he looked away and said breezily, “How long have you been here, anyway? It’s funny, I would have thought the first thing Jesper and Wylan would have done after you showed up at their door was send a messenger to me.”

“Actually, my ship just landed,” Nina admitted. “I haven’t seen them yet.”

“So you came to see me before anyone else?” Kaz raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me this isn’t the part where you confess your undying love to me.”

“Do you want me to?”

Kaz snorted. “Ghezen, no.”

Nina cracked a smile. “Good, because I’m just here so you can be a colossal bastard and remind me why I’m not staying.”

Kaz gave her a look, all humor gone. He didn’t look offended, just calculating. “Any particular reason that you’re here hoping I’ll convince you not to stay?”

“The others will want me to stay,” Nina said. “They’ve been begging me to come back for years and now that I’m here I don’t think they’ll let me leave again. But I can’t. There’s too many ghosts here.”

She wasn’t sure why she was being so honest with Kaz Brekker of all people, but he just nodded. “You’re not wrong about the ghosts,” he said slowly, pointedly not looking at her. “What do I need to do to convince you that you don’t want to stay?”

“To be honest your toadie out there was more convincing than I was expecting,” Nina admitted.

“Espen?” Kaz asked. “He has that effect on people. He makes me want to arrange an unfortunate accident for him in a dark alley on the best of days.”

“Then don’t you do that?” she asked. “It can’t be because of morals, because we both know you don’t have any.”

“Two reasons,” Kaz said. “One: he is my best spider. The three I’ve got now only barely do the job as well as Inej did. Espen’s the best of the three, and I rely on my reputation for knowing everything that goes on in this city. Two: If I kill him and people figure out it was me, it’ll look like I was scared of him and that would be bad. Of course,” he shrugged, “he’s well on his way to doing something that I’d be required to kill him for by the unofficial code of the Barrel, so perhaps I should start looking for more spiders.”

Nina looked at him for a minute until he asked, “What?”

“You’re thinking out loud,” she said. “You never used to do that.”

“Don’t worry, I still don’t share my plans.”

“Saints forbid your minions actually know what’s going on.”

Kaz smiled but didn’t comment. “Now that we’ve established that Espen is better at convincing people they don’t want to stay in Ketterdam than I am,” he said instead. “I’ll walk you to Jesper and Wylan’s.”

Nina raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t have to pretend to be a gentleman, Kaz. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“I haven’t been outside yet today,” Kaz said. “And I’d like to take a look at the Crow Club and couple other things. Pim is good at his job, but he only notices about half of what he should.”

He braced his palms on the desktop and levered himself to his feet. It was a stiff, creaky, painful-looking motion that would have been at home on an old man.

Nina looked away before he could see her worry and sympathy, and slid her hands into her pockets. They were both empty. She patted her clothes looking for her wallet, but it was gone.

“What’s wrong?” Kaz asked. He was fully upright now, leaning surreptitiously on his cane.

“I lost my wallet,” she said. “That’s weird. I had it when I left the ship.”

Kaz snorted. “You probably got pick-pocketed. How much did you lose and what way did you walk to get here?”

When she finished explaining, he crossed to the big safe in the wall and opened it. He counted out a number of kruge and held them out to her. “What’s this for?” She asked

“The borders of Dregs territory have expanded since last time you were here,” Kaz said. “You were in our territory practically the whole way here. That means that the person who pick-pocketed you probably works for me. Consider this getting your money returned.”

“Oh,” Nina took the stack of kruge. “Thanks.”

“And don’t expect this kind of generosity again,” Kaz said closing the safe. “Remember how to hold on to your wallet.”

Nina folded the money and stuck it into the wraps over her breasts. She’d like to see someone try to steal it from there. Then she looked up at Kaz. It was more of a look up than it had once been.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “You’re taller. Have you grown?”

Kaz gave her a look. “Teenagers tend to.”

“You mean to tell me,” Nina said slowly, “that you led us on the biggest heist of the century then figured out how to take down two of the most corrupt men in Ketterdam and you were still growing?”

Kaz gave her a long-suffering look. “Come on, Nina. Let’s get going.”

~~~~

The rest of the Barrel had changed drastically, but also remained exactly the same as always. Drunk and stupid pigeons stumbled around even in broad daylight getting conned out of all their worldly possessions. The members of the gangs strutted around in their Barrel flash trying to look impressive. Everyone, no matter how drunk, got out of Kaz’s way when they saw him coming.

They didn’t talk, but it wasn’t necessarily an awkward silence. Kaz was obviously deep in thought and not actively trying to be rude, so Nina just surveyed her old haunting grounds, noticing how all Pekka Rollins’s gambling dens had been taken over by the Dregs and the way that even the building that had once housed the Menagerie didn’t exist anymore.

“You’ve really made some changes to the place,” she said when she couldn’t take the silence anymore.

Kaz jerked back into awareness of her without a hint that he had been thinking of anything else. “Yes,” he said. “All in all, things are going-” Then something caught his attention, and he trailed off, gaze focused on something off to his right.

Nina followed his gaze but only saw people going about their normal days. “Kaz?” she asked.

“You remember where the Van Eck mansion is don’t you, Nina?” Kaz asked in a hyper-focused tone of voice. “I’ll meet you there; I have something I need to look into first.”

“I can help,” Nina said. “What did you see?”

Kaz looked at her for a moment, his eyes dark and calculating. “It might be good to have a face he doesn’t know,” he said. “Come on.” He pulled his hat down over his and hiked up his cane so the the head was in his armpit and mostly hidden from view. Then he set off down a side street, his limp more pronounced without the aid of the cane.

Kaz moved fast, but cautiously, leaving Nina to half walk half jog after him. The street was still pretty busy, so Nina couldn’t tell exactly who they were following. They’d gone quite a ways when Kaz suddenly grabbed the back of her coat and hauled her into an alley. He shoved her aside then peaked around the corner again.

“You could have just told me where to go,” Nina grumbled, but he was ignoring her, watching something happening the street intently.

After a minute Kaz turned back to her. “Okay,” he said. “The person we’ve been following is called Barend Meijer. He’s doing some dirty business that I’m trying to gather information about. He’s about to go into the inn down the street. You should be able to just walk in and figure out who he’s meeting with.”

“Alright,” Nina said, peaking around the corner. “Which one is he?”

“The one in the green coat,” Kaz pointed out a man with greasy hair and rat-like mustache who was just ducking into the inn, carrying a package wrapped in oilcloth. The cut of his clothes was Kerch, but not quite what someone from Ketterdam would wear. He wasn’t from the city.

“I want that package if we can get it,” Kaz said.

“Alright,” Nina said. “Do you want me to just steal it?”

“No,” Kaz said. “We don’t want him to know I’m onto him. I just need a couple minutes to look through it.”

“Do we need a plan?” Nina asked.

“Go in after him,” Kaz said. “I’ll create a distraction, then it’s your job to, make sure he leaves that package.”

“Alright,” she said and headed into the street.

This part of Ketterdam was disreputable even by Barrel standards. The cobblestones looked like they hadn’t been replaced ever and vanished periodically into mud puddles. One of the buildings Nina passed was so unstable that the whole thing creaked and swayed ominously whenever someone climbed to the second floor. The sides of the street were inhabited by beggars and drunks. It took Nina a few minutes to realize that there were a not inconsiderable number of bodies lying against the buildings as well. She made a mental note to ask Kaz whose territory this was; she was willing to bet that it wasn’t the Dregs.

Nina was also aware that she was gathering a lot of attention. She wasn’t wearing a kefta--that would have been ridiculously stupid--but her clothes were distinctly Ravkan. People were sizing her up and seeing nothing more than a naive foreigner who had lost her way. Some of the men in practical had what they were thinking printed clearly across their faces. Nina reached to her waist and uncorked one of the bottles she kept for just this purpose. Any man who dared to touch her would get a face full of bone shards.

Perhaps she was telegraphing her intentions somehow, because she reached the door to the inn without incident. The inside of the inn was even more disgusting than the street. People were congregating around listing and mismatched tables eating and drinking from plates and mugs that looked like they’d never been washed. The whole place smelled like someone had dumped ale and urine all over the floor and let it fester.

She crossed the room and sat down at the bar so she could study the room without looking like a lost foreigner. She flipped a coin to the bartender and got an ale in a mug so dirty her fingers came away smudged with grime when she touched it. She bit back a look of disgust. Yeah, she wasn’t drinking that.

It only took her a couple seconds to find Meijer. He was sitting in a booth with a large, ill-kept man that Nina actually knew. It was Markus Visser. He was an intermediary who found slaves for pleasure houses, including the House of the White Rose where Nina had once worked as the resident Grisha. She was disappointed; she’d been hoping someone would have killed him by now. Fortunately, while she knew Visser, he didn’t know here so she didn’t need to worry about him recognizing her.

She watched the two men for a few minutes. They were talking quietly with the package on the table between them, it looked like they weren’t planning to go anywhere for awhile. Nina got up off her stool and ambled towards them, acting like she was lost in thought. She wasn’t sure how long it would take Kaz to create his distraction and she wanted to be near the target when it happened.

Suddenly there was a huge commotion coming from the kitchen. Someone dressed in dark clothes darted into the room and yelled, “Help! Come quick! There’s a fire in the kitchen!”

Visser scrambled to his feet and was out the door in an instant. Saving his own skin, probably. Meijer looked around wildly for a moment, fingers tightening on the package, and Nina saw her opening. She lunged over and grabbed his arm, not caring that she dropped the disgusting mug on the floor. “Sir,” she said in her most simpering tone. “Please go help up out the fire! I don’t want this place to burn down!”

The man shook her off violently, but headed for the kitchen.

Nina snatched the package but before she could move, a pair of black gloved hands took it from her. She looked up to see Kaz. “Where did you come from?” she asked.

He smiled but didn’t say anything as he opened the package and began paging through the loose sheets of paper inside. Each was printed with what looked like some kind of order form. Kaz looked at each one for only a second or two before moving onto the next.

“Are you even reading any of that?” Nina asked.

“Make sure no one comes back,” Kaz said paging without pause. “I don’t know how long it will take them to put that fire out.”

“You really set the kitchen on fire?” Nina asked.

“Yes,” Kaz said. He was halfway through the stack of papers by now. “Keep your eyes on the-”

Before he could say anything else, an arm shoved Nina out of the way and onto a table. Meijer was back. Before Nina could do anything, the man had turned on Kaz, knocking the papers out of his hands. “Who do you think you are?” he growled, confirming what Nina had suspected. Meijer was new to Ketterdam; that was the only explanation for someone involved in something illegal in this city not recognizing Kaz Brekker.

“I was just curious,” Kaz said in a confused, higher-pitched voice that didn’t sound anything like his own. “What is this stuff?”

Meijer struck Kaz across the face, then wrapped a bare hand around his throat and shoved him against a wall. Kaz twitched visibly and his hands opened and closed spasmodically.

Nina scrambled off the table and stepped towards Meijer, raising her hands to summon her bone chips. Then hands grabbed her from behind, and she was trapped in a violent hug. The reek of unwashed male and cheap ale enveloped her.

“Let the man do his business, little lady,” her captor slurred in her ear.

Nina struggled against him and tried to keep an eye on Kaz and Meijer. Meijer still had Kaz pinned against the wall and Kaz didn’t seem to be fighting back. Nina couldn’t figure out why, but she didn’t have time to contemplate it. Fortunately, the drunk who had captured her hadn’t realized she was raising her hands because she was Grisha so he hadn’t tried to pin her hands. She twitched her wrists, only now she wasn’t controlling the bone shards, her focus was on what she’d seen in the street outside.

Half a dozen animated corpses burst into the inn. They glommed around Nina and the drunk, ripping her free. The drunk screamed and fled. Nina sent a corpse after him just to further beat in the lesson about assaulting women, then directed the rest of the corpses towards Kaz and Meijer.

The corpses obeyed, ripping the two men apart with their cold, dead hands. Kaz stumbled and fell, curling into a ball with his arms wrapped around his head. Nina couldn’t tell if he was hurt or not, and there wasn’t time to find out. Smoke was now pouring steadily out of the door to the kitchen. Evidently, no one had managed to put the fire out.

She twisted her hands, and one of the corpses turned away from beating up Meijer with the others and heaved Kaz over its shoulder. Nina made another motion and the corpse followed her as she darted out of the inn by the back door into the alley leaving Meijer behind. He’d probably survive, because she would get to far from the corpses to control them long before the entire inn burned down, but at least this way he couldn’t follow them.

Nina ran for a couple blocks until the shouting about fire had died down and she was sure no one was following. Then she stopped and had the corpse set Kaz down. She carefully guided the corpse to the side of the alley and had it lie down as reverently as possible. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “Rest in peace,” and she let the corpse go still.

Behind her she heard retching. She turned to see Kaz on his hands and knees, vomiting onto the dirty cobblestones. His gloved fingers were digging into the cracks between the stone and his entire body was shaking violently.

“Kaz?” Nina asked. “Are you alright?” She hurried over, reaching for his shoulder.

Before she could touch him, Kaz pulled out a knife and lunged at her. She stumbled backwards, fell and landed on her butt against one of the alley walls. Kaz pressed the tip of the knife against her throat, but didn’t touch her beyond that. His eyes were wild and Nina could feel him trembling through the knife.

“If you ever let one of those things touch me again,” Kaz said in a trembly, rasping snarl. “I will cut you into so many pieces no one will be able to identify you. Do you understand?”

“Kaz,” Nina said, trying to ignore the way the knife pressed into her throat as she spoke. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. I just wanted to get us out of there. Are you sick?” She reached for the handle of the knife, but he jerked back out of her reach taking the knife with him.

“Don’t touch me!” he shrieked. His hands were shaking so badly that he almost dropped the knife.

“Alright,” Nina said holding up her hands. “I won’t touch you, but can you tell me if you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kaz snarled, struggling to his feet. “We should to go.” He tried to walk, but stumbled and almost fell, catching himself against the opposite wall. She him breathing; the gasps were loud, fast and frantic.

“Kaz,” she said quietly. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Kaz shouted. “I’m fine! Let’s move!”

“You’re hyperventilating,” Nina said. “You’re going to pass out. You need to calm down.” She hated her inability to help. Before the  parem  she would have been able to lower his heart rate and ease his breathing herself, now she could do nothing but watch him struggle for breath.

“Kaz,” she repeated. “Please sit down.”

Much to her surprise, he actually listened, sliding down the wall to sit on the damp cobblestones with his knees drawn up and his forehead pressed against them. Nine stayed against the other wall, watching him until his breathing quieted and his muscles began to relax.

“Are you okay now?” she asked, making her voice level and quiet so as not to set him off again.

“I’m fine,” Kaz said, uncurling but not looking at her. “That was nothing.”

They both knew he was lying.

Kaz had hidden his cane before going into the inn so they had to double back to retrieve it and avoid the commotion around the now burned-out husk of the inn. Once they were done with that, they continued on to the Van Eck mansion. They didn’t speak, and though Kaz was twitchier than usual, he had himself surprisingly well in hand.

The Van Eck mansion was yet another thing that hadn’t substantially changed since the last time Nina had seen it. She was a little surprised Jesper hadn’t convinced Wylan to paint the whole exterior lime green. Kaz marched right up to the front door and knocked. They were admitted by a servant girl who obviously knew who Kaz was and was extremely uncomfortable with it.

The servant lead them upstairs to an office where Jesper and Wylan were seated at the desk looking at paperwork. They both looked up when Kaz and Nina came in,

“Look who turned up at the Slat,” Kaz said, monotone, gesturing at her.

Their faces lit up. “Nina!” Jesper cried and within moments both men had crossed the room and thrown their arms around her. Nina was surprised to feel her eyes filling up with tears. She hadn’t realized she missed them so much.

“When did you get back?” Wylan asked when they pulled apart.

“This afternoon,” Nina said. “I wasn’t sure where to find the rest of you so I went to Slat.” That wasn’t really true, but she didn’t want to admit to wanting to be reminded why she wasn’t staying.

“Hear that, Kaz?” Jesper asked. “You’re predictable.”

Kaz had floated over to the desk and was paging through the papers sitting there. He flinched when Jesper addressed, a small but visible tightening of muscles. “I’ll do my utmost to remedy that,” he said stiffly.

Jesper’s lips pressed together in concern, he and Wylan exchanged a significant look. “Have you two had supper yet?” Wylan asked after a moment.

“No,” Nina’s stomach growled.

“Good, we haven’t eaten yet either,” Wylan said. “You can have supper with us.”

“Actually,” Kaz began. “I need to-”

“Nope,” Jesper interrupted. “You’re staying, no arguments.”

Kaz stared at them for a moment then looked away and heaved a sigh. “Fine, but I’ll need some paper and a pen; I need to write a letter.”

“Done,” Jesper said. “Good to have you here, Kaz.”

“I’ll go tell the cook there will be two more for dinner,” Wylan said and left the room.

Jesper, Nina and Kaz relocated to the downstairs parlor. Jesper procured paper and a pen and Kaz retired to a corner and began writing at lighting speed in what appeared to be an extremely complicated code.

Jesper leaned in close to Nina and jerked his head at Kaz. “Is he okay?” he breathed.

“I think he’s fine now,” Nina murmured. “He...wasn’t before.”

“What happened?”

“I used my powers on some corpses,” Nina said. “I had one carry him, and I think that’s what set him off.”

Jesper nodded. “That’ll do it.”

“Do you know why he reacted like that?” Nina asked.

Jesper rocked a hand back and forth. “Inej told us some things so we could keep an eye on him while she’s gone. Not all of it, a lot of its really private, but some.”

“Does he know you know?” Nina asked.

“He’s Kaz Brekker, of course he knows,” Jesper grinned crookedly, then sobered. “But we’ve never been able to get him to have a conversation about it with us.”

“But he’s okay, though?” Nina said. “Just to make sure.”

Jesper made a face.

“What?” she asked.

“Wy and I aren’t convinced his health is very good,” Jesper said. “I mean his health’s never been great because he doesn’t sleep or give himself breaks, but last winter he had a really bad chest infection, and we don’t think he ever completely recovered from it. We’re worried about him.”

“Are you two going to just sit over there whispering like schoolgirls?” Kaz asked without looking up. It was impossible to tell if he’d been able to hear anything they were saying, but writing the letter seemed to have calmed him down.

“What are we supposed to do?” Jesper asked. “You’re engrossed in writing a long, coded missive to our beloved Wraith.”

“You’re writing Inej?” Nina asked, getting up and crossing the room to look at the paper. The code really was incomprehensible. “I take it she’s out hunting slavers?” She hadn’t really thought that Inej was here since no one had mentioned telling her of Nina’s arrival, but she’d hoped.

“She might be back in a few weeks,” Kaz said. “Though it’s hard to say; things sometimes come up.”

“So what is this letter about?” Jesper asked, throwing an arm around Wylan’s shoulders as the other man came into the room and kissing him on the temple. “Though, since the things are all in code, you could tell us they were about anything when in reality you’re just raving about how beautiful her hair is.”

Kaz shot Jesper a withering glare. “This is a summary of some information Nina and I found before we came here,” he said.

“Wait, those papers?” Nina said. “But you barely looked at them. You can’t really remember what they said.”

“I remember what they said,” Kaz said flatly. "But I do need to get this down while it’s still fresh; my memory for words is not as flawless as my memory for numbers.”

“What is this information about?” Wylan asked from his place in Jesper’s arms.

“Barend Meijer is part of an organization that specializes in providing slaves that fit parameters requested by buyers,” Kaz explained. “For example, one of the documents Nina and I were looking at is a request for a young Ravkan woman who resembles Alina Starkov. Inej has been trying to track the leadership of this organization for almost a year with little success.”

“And you’re helping her?” Nina asked. “How are you making any money off that?”

“He’s not,” Jesper crowed. “Helping the Wraith in her endeavours to end slavery is his sappy romantic side project.”

“I am not above cutting out your tongue and feeding it to the nearest pack of dogs, Jes,” Kaz said.

Both Jesper and Wylan laughed. “Don’t worry, Kaz, your secret soft side is safe with us,” Jesper teased.

A maid appeared in the doorway. This one was older and looked much less uncomfortable at the idea of the Bastard of the Barrel being in the parlor. “Supper is ready,” she said. “Should I inform Mistress Van Eck, Master Wylan?”

“Yes, thank you, Annemie” Wylan said. He disentangled himself from Jesper and slid his arm through Nina’s. “You’ll get to meet my mother! I’m pretty sure you never have.”

“That will be wonderful,” Nina said, letting Wylan lead her towards the dining room.

“You coming, Kaz?” Jesper asked. “Will that information stick in that genius brain of yours for a little longer?”

“Oh, fine,” Kaz grumbled and Nina looked over her shoulder in time to see him folding the letter up carefully and sticking it into his coat. He levered himself painfully to his feet and reached for his cane before he said, “And Nina?”

“What?” she asked as she and Wylan paused.

“You really should stay until Inej gets back,” he said. “I know she really wants to see you again.”

“But-” Nina stammered. “You were supposed to be the one who-” She cut herself off before she said something she’d regret and gave him a look.

Kaz just grinned and brushed by her and Wylan on his way to the dining room.

--

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #post-crooked kingdom #fanfiction #fanfic #nina zenik #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kaz x inej #jesper x wylan #mentions of #nina x matthias #Nina returns to Ketterdam #Kaz has an eidetic memory #I'm ignoring King of Scars because if I speculate on plot I'm just going to be wrong #Oh look its a fic where Nina does more than rave about waffles! #Sorry folks Inej isn't actually in this one #she's off hunting slavers and saving people #emjenenla #Emjen writes #tw: ptsd #tw: panic attack

[clemanime]

Monster

You and your best friend go to a costume party hosted by Klaus. You and Klaus get into an argument and afterwards things get heated.

WARNING: Smut, dom!Niklaus, Klaus fucking Mikaelson himself.. I mean look at him. Just look! Drink him in!

(I’m sorry if it’s terrible but it just came to mind while I was watching Law and Order. I don’t think he’s in the show.. I haven’t seen all of it.)

You looked at yourself in the mirror as you stared at the red and black dress with matching stockings. You were supposed to be that Little Red Riding Hood but you didn’t expect this kind of look. “Hey Y/n! You ready yet?” Your best friend asked.

“Tell me why we’re going to this party again? Isn’t Marcel gonna be there?” You asked, biting your bottom lip before pushing the curtain out of your way. “I thought you wanted to tear his heart out.”

“I still do.. but that attractive face of his can be very convincing.” She smiled. “Anyways.. you look good.”

“Good but not great. I’m gonna take it off and go back home to my book.”

“Like hell you are.” She grabbed your arm before you could close the curtain. “It’s Halloween and you’re going with me to this party.”

“Why can’t I just stay home?”

“Because you’re always in your room reading a book.” She flicking your nose. You flinched and cleared your throat. “Come on let’s pay for these costumes so I can do your make-up.” The two of you walked out of the store after paying and walked down the street to your shared apartment so you can finish getting ready.

You stood in the corner, drinking from your bottled water as you watched your friend dance with Marcel. You felt a bit better watching people as they danced happily. “Excuse me.” A random man asked as he smiled at you. “I couldn’t help but notice that Little Red Riding Hood is all alone.” He smirked as he motioned to the fake ears on his head. “Can the big bad wolf keep you company?”

“No thank you.” You shook your head.

“Oh come on. Let me see what’s in your basket.” He reached for your ass but you moved out of the way, glaring at him. Before he could pull his arm back Klaus grabbed it, twisting it and pinning him to a pillar.

“You will keep your hands away from Y/n.” He said, glaring at him. “That is no way to treat a woman. Keep your eyes and your hands off of her or you’ll lose your arm and many more.”

Klaus let him go and looked at you, crossing his arms as you did the same. “I can handle myself.” You said.

“Really?” He questioned. “It seemed as if you couldn’t.” A drink was in his hand within seconds and he took a sip. “Just like before.”

“Like before?” You faced him, glaring. “Fuck you Klaus. The reason I couldn’t defend myself was because you psychotic ex decided to poison me.”

“Yes and who’s fault is that?” He took another sip, facing his guests.

“It’s yours.” You jabbed your finger in his shoulder. “You’re the one that couldn’t keep your head straight when I got hurt. Just because I got hurt and you tried to kill her on the spot.” I shook your head. “You wanna know what you are to me Klaus?”

“What is that love?” You would’ve been putty in his hands if you weren’t so pissed at him.

“You’re a self-centered controlling asshole that has a fit when things don’t go your way.” You were speaking quickly. “Here’s proof if you’d like it. You put a dagger in your siblings hearts when you thought they were going to leave you. Left them like that for years and all of a sudden you let them go because you have a heart? You don’t have one Niklaus. You never did and you never will.” You wanted to stop talking but you couldn’t. “You know what I can’t believe I actually thought we had shared feelings but obviously you’re incapable of even that. A simple thing like that is difficult for a monster like you. I’m such and idiot.” You huffed, avoiding his eyes because you knew that telling him off would upset him. You snatched the drink from him and downed it, handing him back the glass and walking straight to the bar.

After 3 strong drinks you were in the middle of the dancefloor, dancing on any and everyone that walked up to you. You took another drink and was about to down it in one go but your best friend stopped you, taking the glass and sitting it down. “Alright you need to go home.” She took the mask off of your face but you shooed them away.

“Nooo. I’m fiinnne.” You smiled and stumbled forward. “Come on let’s go and daanncee.” You grabbed the drink from her and went to drink it again but Klaus took it and slammed it back on the table. “Uh-oh.” You looked at her. “The big bad Hybrid is going to kill me.” You wiggled your fingers and started laughing. Klaus stared down at you and you huffed, pouting. “Oh come on relax Mikaelson it was only a joke.”

“You’re intoxicated.” He said.

“I am not.” You shook your head. “I’m just.. free.” You held your arms out and smiled brightly. Your face went from happy to disgusted, covering your mouth. “Oh shit.” Klaus put you over her shoulder and you both were in the bathroom. It was close but.. no dice. You threw up on his shoes, groaning before dropping to your knees.

“And this night just keeps getting better.” He sighed, taking them off. You turned and continued to throw up but in the toilet.

“I’m sorry.” You said as when you finally stopped. “I’m really sorry.” You looked at him as he walked back in with a different pair of pants on. “For everything I said.. calling you an asshole, heartless.. saying you don’t have feelings.” You pushed you hair out of your face as you struggled but managed to get up. You washed your mouth out and took some of his mouthwash. “And for throwing up on your shoes. I’ll pay for it to be cleaned.”

“Don’t concern yourself with the shoes.” He picked you up and put you in his bed, giving you a glass of water. “Sleep. In the morning you can go home. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” He turned off all of the lights and you watching him.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “And I’m sorry again for everything. I know it upset you.”

“The truth hurts.” He said before closing the door.

Klaus sighed and leaned against the wall next to the door, shaking his head before going down the stairs. The party had already ended and everyone cleared out. “How is she?”

“Resting. She’ll leave in the morning.” Klaus put his hands behind his back as he looked at your friend.

“When are you going to tell her?”

“Why should I?”

“I don’t know probably because you actually have feelings for her. You know like the rest of us.”

“She made it clear that I am a monster.” He spoke, hurt in his voice and on his face.

“Don’t be a bitch Klaus.” She punched him in the arm before leaving. Klaus shook his head before going back up to the room where you were sleeping. He opened the door and turned on a lamp in the corner, getting his canvas out, placing it on his easel. He got started on painting the person that was sound asleep in his bed, focusing on your curves. Klaus never thought he’d love someone again, especially another human. To him you were stronger than any human he’d met.. not since Cami. Klaus made it his mission to keep you ‘normal’. Make sure that you were safe because he didn’t want to love another woman that he cared so much about on that level.

After you told him off he watched you act out, dancing with men and enjoying yourself a little too much. He’d lie if he said he didn’t like the way you moved your hips while you were moving against those strangers. He put his paint palette down along with his brush, sitting in one of his many chairs and sighing.

“Niklaus.” You moaned in your sleep, turning over so you faced his direction. You continued to toss and turn, pulling at your clothes because you were getting hotter. You continued to moan, clenching your thighs together. Klaus moved closer to you, staring intently as your body stretched and gripped at anything you could get your hands on. Without thinking he grabbed your hand, getting a glimpse of your dream, quickly pulling away and holding his breath. “K-Klaus.. please.” He moved to the other side of the bed and laid next to you. Your hand found his shirt and you gripped it, pulling him closer to you.

You opened your eyes quickly, looking at the chest that was in your face. You looked up at the him as he stared down at you. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were blown with lust. But it soon changed to cockiness, annoying you. “Dreaming of me love?” He asked.

“Shut up.” You whispered, kissing him without thinking. You got on top of him, pulling his shirt off and enjoying the feeling of his skin. “Now’s not the time to be cocky.” You pulled your dress up but the amount of ruffles under the thin fabric was staring to piss you off. Klaus enjoyed your attempt at behind controlling but you were playing with the King of controlling. He sat up, tearing your dress to pieces without hesitation of effort. He pushed you on your back and took his shirt off, kissing you again. You moaned and wrapped your legs around him so he could be pressed against you.

“Eager aren’t we?”

“Since this thing is one sided and will probably be a one time thing.. might as well be eager.” You pushed him and climbed on top of him, pulling his pants off along with his boxers. Deep down Klaus wanted this to happen as long as you were willing to have him, maybe multiple times in one night if your up for it.

Klaus was snatched from his thoughts at the feeling of your mouth around his hard member, groaning as he watched you. He laid back, his hips jerking as he grew closer within seconds. He lost it when you took him in deeper, reaching the back your throat. You closed your eyes and moaned when you felt his cum run down your throat. “Maybe the famous Niklaus Mikaelson has a weakness when it comes to sex.” You crawled back up his body with a smug smirk playing on your lips. “Never had a blowjob before?”

“Not with someone like you.” He mumbled out. You smiled widely and kissed his cheek, feeling his member poking at your entrance. “But let me show you that you can not and will not dominate me.”

“Oh really now.” You sat up, moaning as his member slowly pushed its way inside of you. Klaus held your hips as his lustful eyes dragged up and down your body. His hips snapped upward, shocking you, his thrust fast and rough as he held you in place. You grabbed his arm and closed your eyes, gasping when he hit your spot. You dug you nails into his biceps, biting your bottom lip as you tried to keep your composure.

“Say my name Y/n.” He groaned out, thrusting faster. Suddenly you felt something cold against your back, looking around. Klaus had you against the wall, your legs draped over his forearms.

“Fuck.” You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“That’s not my name love.” He whispered, moving the two of you to the floor. He squeezed your hips as you tightened around him. “Scream it Y/n.” You moaned as he hit your spot, pounding into you relentlessly. “Come on Y/n.” He nibbled on your ear and then moved to your lips, biting it with just the right amount of pressure.

“Klaus!” You screamed as your climax washed over your body. Your legs began to shake as he continued his rough pace. “Oh my g-.. don’t stop Niklaus.” You scratched his back as the pleasure became to much for you. His hot seed coated your insides, sending a delicious heat through your body. Klaus collapsed on top of you, his thumb slowly rubbing the skin on your hip and kissing your neck.

Niklaus placed you on his bed, cleaning you before laying next to you. “I’ve won.” He smirked at you.

“Don’t get cocky again. You just caught me off guard.” You cleared your throat as you stared at him. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Why should I have?” He looked at you and caressed your cheek, shocking you again. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.” You bit your bottom lip.

“Good.” He didn’t know how to respond. “Tell me this Y/n. What would make someone fall for something like me?”

“You’re sweet when you want to be Klaus. But it would only be 25 out of 100. I guess I fell for that 25.” You shrugged and laid on your back, staring at your ceiling. “I really am sorry for all the crappy things I said.”

“And I apologize for.. treating you terribly 75% of the time.” He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you against his chest. “I may be a monster but few of them would stay this close to someone they love.”

“Well maybe this won’t be a one time thing.” You looked at him as he smiled. “Maybe.. in the morning?”

“How about now?” He climbed on top of you causing you to giggle.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus x reader #Klaus smut #the originals #smut #other masterlist #masterlist #niklaus x reader #Niklaus x reader smut #Klaus mikaelson x reader smut #Klaus Mikaelson x reader