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spikesbimbo · 3 years

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Say Please

Summary: Dilf Daddy Spikes rest stop

Paring: Spike Spiegel x Reader

Tags: oral sex, spit kink, age gap, smoke kink, bimbo gf

wc: 2.3k

a/n: for my daddy, my superhero yes i said it was was coming out in a few days, but i did it today bc dilf spike was the only thing on my mind.

“Fuck.”

You turned and saw him mumbling curses walking through the door. His messy hair, messier now than when he left. Specks of grey flicked in there, wanting to run your fingers though it, so soft you thought.

“You okay?” you asked, eyes bigger as you watched him walk towards the couch, laying one of his guns down on the table.

“No baby, c'mere.'' he said, dragging you into his lap, playing with the hem of your mini skirt barely covering the swell of your ass. His hands resting on it, sneaking his fingers up there, making their way under the strap of your panties.

You were his warmth in the cold vastness of space. Relaxing whenever he was around you, being the only thing he would look forward to coming back to. Not the annoying kids and women he had to deal with daily, their attitudes nothing compared to yours, his sweet angel.

You looked up at him, seeing the stubble grow as he'd been gone for a day and a half, not caring about taking care of himself. Which you took into your own hands, wanting to treat him the way he deserved. Him being the only reason you were alive.

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

After saving you, you instantly fell for him, shyly flirting with him, until one night the tension got too high and yall fucked.

Waking up in the morning seeing he didn't care, you just went on about your day until it turned night again as he knocked on your door. Remembering him saying “you sure” before placing his lips on yours, immediately picking you up and taking you to his room, almost tripping over the dog how fast he was walking. God damn he hated that dog.

And after this it happened a few more times. Then one day you confessed your love for him after drinking too much, you crying as he watched the scene unfold before leaving the ship. Leaving you to cry even more, worried that he was going to get rid of you like they did, worried that he left his gun.

He left his gun, yes. He was so shocked he just left, face unfazed but his mind was racing. Did you say that because you were drunk? Because he's the only man you've ever been with, the only man that hasn't treated you like shit.

He came back to you lying on the couch, eyes red and closed asleep with the dog cuddled in your arms. Curled up like a baby, knowing you were cold, so he went and got a blanket. Laying it on you while sitting next to you, looking intensely at your pretty face wondering if what you said was true.

You, a pretty young thing with a life ahead of her, with him? An old man that was a bounty hunter for a living?

You stumbled in your sleep, feeling right next to you, being a light sleeper after what happened to you. Opening your swollen eyes faintly seeing his hand resting on you. Quickly trying to get up stumbling, the effects of the alcohol not wavering yet, but luckily he was there to catch you. Your hands started shaking along with your eyes starting to water again. “M-sor-”

He pulled you in, his lips touching yours, placing his big warm hand on the back of your head. Holding it gently as he pulled you closer to him. Wrapping his other arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap.

You confirming that you actually had feelings for him while he pulled you into his arms, kissing you on the top of your head while mumbling out how he was sorry for just leaving like that.

“Im not going anywhere doll.”

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

“God damn, I got a headache” He said, pulling the cigarettes out of his pocket, wanting the stress to be gone completely as he adjusted you in his lap so he could do so. Wrapping his arm tight around your waist, fingers gripping onto that tiny shirt you were wearing, exposing your cleavage right in his face.

Your eyes still so innocent as he kissed you again, lightly but passionately as he turned you to face him completely. Chest to chest while he lit the cigarette between his fingers, using you as a shield from the air flowing.

“Spike...” you said just loud enough for him to hear, dragging your fingers down his chest looking down as you waited for his response.

“Hmm?” he said, placing his hands on your hips, resting the cigarette between his index and finger. Blowing out the smoke as he moved his head down under to look up at your hidden face.

Your body grew with heat as you could feel his bulge under your panties, internally thinking that maybe you should've worn pants, but you didn't have any. All you had were the skirts he bought you.

“Hmm baby?” he said again, his hand free of the cigarette moving up to your throat, gently grabbing the base of it to force you to look at him. “You wanna take care of me? Like you always do?”

You nodded, body itching to move as your white cotton panties grew clearer with each touch. Yes you babied him, but he took care of you. You couldn't do anything on your own, not knowing how to read, write, even cook.

But you were trying; studying while he was gone with the books he ‘borrowed’, and making dinner every night. At least trying, the only thing you were good at was cheese bread, but luckily he would eat anything.

“What a sweetheart, such a good girl.” he cooed, taking a puff from the snout. Dick growing harder by the second as he thought about the last time you ‘helped’ him out. He took his lips off blowing the smoke in your face, just how he knew you liked it. “Not like these other bitches, no ... I got me an angel.”

You got off his lap, he fingers slowly being dragged away as you tried to hold back your smile. You loved making him feel good, it being the only thing you were truly good at, but you had no shame. Some people were gifted in different things, yours was making your man feel good.

“Woah baby, can't see everywhere at once.” he teased, watching you strip for him. Taking off that top exposing your bare chest, pulling down your soaked panties clinging to your thighs. Eyes looking all over your figure as you were only in that oh so tiny skirt now, being pushed up to just cover your aching cunt, so embarrassing.

You got on your knees, already palming his crotch, head resting on his thigh as you waited for him to tell you if it was okay. Mouth already watering at the thought of gagging on him, the thought of him fucking your face, then maybe you.

“off.” you whined as he stroked your head, hand under your chin; looking at you intensely, eyes not leaving you once as you pulled his pants down freeing his erection.

It slapping him against his stomach, hard as could be, so neglected. But it's okay, you were here to relax him, ease him, make him feel the best he ever has.

“Open up” he said, tensing his jaw. His fingers spreading your lips letting themselves in before he let his spit fall into yours. A string of droll connecting you two. Pulling back and watching his mix with yours on your tongue, letting it drool in your mouth, before he leaned back, giving the okay.

You turned your attention to his cock, so hard and pretty. The vein on the underside begging to be touched, the tip so fat that you couldn't take it anymore.

You let your tongue hang out, your spit dripping onto the head before connecting your lips to it. Kissing all over it, sucking it like a lollipop while moving your hands to play with his balls, wanting to get him real worked up.

“So pretty.” you mumbled out, kissing on its side before taking it in your mouth, its fat heavy weight resting on your tongue. His downturned eyes looking at you take him whole, groaning at the feeling of the warmth surrounding his cock. Moving himself up to see you better, wanting to imprint this pretty picture in his memory.

His sweet baby with his balls at her chin, eyes watering in pleasure, so precious. His shoulders still tense as he wrapped his hand around your head once again.

“You mind doll?” he asked as if you could respond. You did your best to shake your head with his fat cock stretching your mouth out, wanting him to use you, loving it.

Loving when he tied you up and fucked you like some street whore, loving it when he woke you up in the middle of the night to ride him because his dick was hard. You loved it, loved being his toy.

His hand encompassing your whole head within it started pushing your head back and forth, starting slowly even though you could take it. At first you couldn't even fit it in your mouth, choking on it after the tip was in, but after a lot of practice and praise you were an expert at this, even deeper throating him with no prep.

“Fuck, baby… you’re mouth is so good. Such a little hole for me to use” he said, gripping the back of your neck, using it to control your movements, bobbing your head faster while you whimpered at the feeling of his tip in the back of your throat.

“You like that? You like me telling you how well you take my cock in that cute little mouth of yours, huh?”

His words made you whimper again, his cock throbbing at the vibrations. Your eyes gleaming up at him, looking at him pleadingly. The salty taste of pre-cum and the ache of your jaw was addicting, too addicting.

He saw the fat tears getting ready to fall onto your eyelashes and felt an emptiness of heat fuse in his stomach. His angel was so perfect, so good and submissive for him. He felt his balls start to swell as his body tensed up to orgasm, ready to blow.

“I’m gonna cum, doll. Im close… fuck. You feel so tight. You gonna swallow it all, sweetheart or you want me to pull out? You gave him the look you always did, just wanting his cum, not caring how you got it. Him immediately understanding. “You gonna be my good girl?”

His cock so hot now that was taking up all the room in your mouth and was starting to twitch and throb. You used your tongue, licking against the underside vein and closed your lips of the way back, pulling in your cheeks like he taught you

“Ah… fuck. I’m cumming, fuck baby. Fuck”

You felt the hot cum reach the back of your throat choking on it, some of the cum spilling out the sides with his cock still on your mouth as he pulled out and let the remaining cum be painted on your face. “Bang.” he muttered under his breath.

You kept everything in your mouth, holding back the urge to cough, wanting to show it to him proudly. Your cheeks puffy as he came down from his high admiring your appliance, eyes meeting yours, as he took your jaw in between his fingers opening your mouth to see for himself. Knowing you loved his approval.

“Such a good girl… letting me cum all over you, wherever I want. What a pretty girl.”

He squished your cheeks, making some of it fall out to your protest. Kissing you for being so irresistible, his thumb tracing your lips after, his saliva and cum staining them prettily.

“Swallow angel.”

He peeked down after you moaned, seeing your thighs reflecting off the lamp so soaked and messy, leaving a wet spot underneath you. Your legs shaking as his cock grew harder again at the sight.

“I got you, baby. I’m gonna you feel good, gonna make it all feel better. ”

#Yes this fic was for my entertainment #cowboy bebop #cowboy bepop x reader #spike spiegal #spike x reader #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #Faye Valentine #cowboy bepop imagines

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johnnypsycho · 3 years

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As a rule, generally, when I’m hitchhiking I avoid major interstates and cities and concentrate on back roads, small towns, and rural routes; everyone is always in such a hurry on the interstate. The rest areas won’t let you sleep in them. Too many semi trucks, driving too close to the shoulder. Too many bridges with no emergency lane. There is too much noise...for me hitchhiking isn’t about the destination, it’s about the journey. If I’m going to walk 3,000 miles, I want to enjoy it as much as possible.

This time, however, I was in a little bit of a hurry; the Circus tour was going to start in a week, in northern Vermont, and I was still almost 1,500 miles away in Tallahassee, Fla., having just stopped in to visit my brother at Florida State University.

I had been on the road for a couple of months at this point; I left Savannah, Ga. in May, and headed to Los Angeles to see a girl I was in love with...it didn’t work out, of course, and I turned around about half way there, in Texas (after spending a weekend in jail on a vagrancy charge, and a few days with a friend of a friend, in Tyler.), and headed east with no particular destination in mind. When, during a phone call to my mother, I was reminded that the Circus was getting ready to start again, I called the Circus Barn, in Greensboro, and let them know I would be there...

So, I started out on I-10 E, and made my way towards the dreaded I-95 N/S corridor; a total shit show, true, but I would probably make it back in 3 or 4 days.

I made it to Jacksonville by late that same night, and wasn’t tired, so I decided to keep going through the night and get some rest the next day, or maybe someone would pick me up and let me crash at their place, which happened more than you might think.

It was past midnight when an older model sedan slowed down as they passed and pulled over to the side of the road. I jogged up to the car, and a young kid, maybe 14 or 15, thin, with dark hair and that deep brown Florida tan, rolled down the passenger side window and asked if I needed a ride. I said I sure did, opened the back door, threw in my backpack, and slid onto the dark leather seats. The car smelled of cigarettes...

The driver turned on the overhead light and turned around. “How ya doin’? I’m Heyward, this here’s Justin. Where ya headed?” He looked to be about 50; overweight and balding, Marlboro red hanging from his lips.

I told them, briefly, where I was going and why. He said he couldn’t take me that far, but would a few exits up help? “It sure would.”, I said. “Well, let’s get going,” he said.

Justin, the young kid, turned around and started talking to me; asking me where I came from; wanting to hear about the circus; small talk...I noticed in the dim light of the back seat, that he was covered in cheap pin prick tattoos; crude nude women, some weird symbols, odd dates. Across his knuckles, on both hands, were names...

“So, can I suck your dick?”, he said...

“What was that?” I asked, thinking I must have misheard.

“Can I suck your dick? I love to suck dick.” Heyward, driving, hadn’t turned around.

“Uh...nah. Thanks, though. I’m good.”

“Y’oughta let him. Little fucker can suck a golf ball through a garden hose,” said a no longer silent Heyward, still not taking his eyes off the road.

This is another reason I avoid interstates...

“I won this cute little shit right here in a poker game at a truck stop, a few months ago, and I ain’t never had my dick sucked so good. Tight little ass, too, if that’s more what you’re into...”

The names tattooed on Justin’s hands were the names of his previous ‘owners’. He was 14, and had run away from a state home when he was twelve. He had been selling his ass from truck stop to truck stop ever since...with no shortage of buyers.

I was starting to get a little worried. I wasn’t scared; I was 21 and strong and more than capable of defending myself against a fat, middle aged pervert and his 14 year old street meat partner. I didn’t want to have to kill anyone, though...and it kinda looked like I might have to, if they decided to not let me out of the car.

“I’m good, guys. Really. If that’s the only reason y’all stopped, you might as well let me out. I’m not gonna change my mind.”

“Well, shit,” said Heyward, still not slowing down, “you’re a good looking guy. We could have some fun. I’ll spring for a room, buy us some booze and food...? If you don’t want to get fucked, we’ll let you do all the pitchin’, and we can just catch. You don’t have to suck nothin’. “

“Nah, my man. Not gonna happen.”

“Alright, then. I’m just gonna let you out right here. That Ok?”

“Sure is. Thanks.”

He pulled over and stopped. I grabbed my stuff, and got out.

They drove off, and I started walking. I just shook my head, and wondered about other people’s lives, and how we end up where we do.

About 30 minutes later, the same older model sedan drove slowly past, and pulled over on the shoulder in front of me...

At this point, I’m more than a little concerned about what might happen next; I immediately go on high alert. My heart is racing. Are these guys about to try to kidnap me? Is this shit about to get very, very real? The car starts backing up...the passenger side window rolls slowly down as they get closer. Justin sticks his head out the window...I set my backpack down on the ground beside me, and get ready to fight.

“Listen, we’ll give you $100 bucks, and Heyward can just watch me suck your dick. You can fuck me, and we’ll leave, and let you have the room to yourself. It don’t have to be too gay, and shit.”

“Like I said, I’m good. I really need you guys to leave me alone. Kinda creeping me out.”

He pulls his head back inside and says something to Heyward.

He sticks his head out again, “$200, and I just suck your dick. No fuckin’. “

“Not gonna happen.”

“Well, shit. That’s too bad. I really want to suck your dick.”

“Sorry, bud.”

“Ok. See you around.”

“Not likely,” I said.

They pull away, slowly. Their taillights fade into the night. I grab my pack, and continue my late night walk alongside the busy freeway.

I wonder if Justin will live to see 15...

“Chris! Come here. I want you to meet someone...” Desha called to me from across the room, snapping me out of my reverie; she had been bouncing around from group to group of people I didn’t know, hugging and laughing all the way. We were on the top floor of some hotel outside of Atlanta, where a local swingers group was having a party. The group had rented the whole floor and all the rooms were open to one another. Naked people were everywhere; a woman was giving head to five or six guys in the middle of this room while a crowd gathered around. Some guys were jerking off while another couple was fucking off to the side on one of the couches...This was my first time ever attending a party like this; Desha had assured me I would love it. Of course, as had become the norm lately, I was rolling my balls off, having taken 3-4 tabs of X shortly before we arrived...

“This is my friend, Andy. I haven’t seen her in forever,”

Andy was a tall blonde woman, maybe 35 years old. Fit, attractive, and very naked.

“Let’s find an empty bed, somewhere.”, said Desha.

As we went from room to room looking for an empty bed with our new found friend, everyone was looking at me, The New Guy, as if I were a piece of meat. Men and women, singles and couples...I wasn’t even a person. I was a just new cock in the mix; ripe for the fucking. It felt oddly...dirty...there were strobe lights and loud music and all manner of moans coming from every corner of every room. EVERYONE knew Desha. I could hear people talking about us, and who we were going to fuck, or, more accurately, who got to fuck us...

We found a bed.

“Sit down here,” said Andy, as she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me towards the bed.

I sat down as she turned and grabbed Desha by the back of the head and began kissing her. They began to make out feverishly; Andy stripping off Desha’s clothes; both exploring each other’s bodies. She laid Desha down on the bed, head next to my lap, and went down on her as though life itself depended on it.

The two of them traded orgasms for an indeterminate amount of time as I sat - so very high - next to them on the edge of the bed. Even though I was new to this scene, I knew that they controlled the pace of whatever would happen next, so I kept my hands to myself, and just watched...

“Take off your clothes,” Desha told me, between gasps, “I want you to fuck Andy. Remember, no kissing. I just want to watch you fuck her, like you fuck me.”

Desha laid down on her back and opened her legs, as Andy rolled over on her stomach and arched her back, presenting herself to me as she put her head between Desha’s legs and buried her face in her dripping pussy.

“Look at me, Chris. I want to see your face while you fuck my friend.”

A crowd had gathered around to watch. Some women sat on the side of the bed and began massaging Andy and Desha. Another woman put her head down by Andy’s ass and began licking my cock as I stroked in and out. The men had to stand off to the side, as they were not allowed to participate; only to watch. They masturbated as I fucked this woman I had met just 30 minutes before, until she screamed into my girlfriend’s pussy. Desha told me not to stop; just keep fucking until I was about to cum. THAT belonged to her, and her alone. I pulled out as I came, and Desha crawled around and took my cock into her mouth, swallowing every last drop. My head was spinning. The ecstasy was kicking my ass. I still hadn’t said a single word to anyone since we arrived at the party...

The other women slowly got up from the bed, and went over to their respective partners, wandering away to the next room and the next scene, leaving the three of us alone...

“That was so hot,” said Desha, with a smile, “Thanks, Andy. It’s been great catching up. I guess we’re going to leave now. See you next time.”

“Good to see you, too. Nice to meet you, Chris. Looks like everything we’ve heard about you was true.” She reached down and gave my cock a friendly squeeze as she kissed me on the cheek... “See you around,” she said.

“Not likely,” I thought to myself...

#greybeardsyoungerdays #wheniwasayoungman #meanoldbastard #greybeard #hitchhiker #swingers

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starring-movies · 4 years

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Killing Eve: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Season 1, Episode 1 - Nice Face

The episode begins with our introductions to Villanelle, in an ice cream shop; and Eve at home with Niko, with Eve’s scene continuing to show her work dynamics.

I discuss these two first scenes at length in two of my previous posts, that I will link at the bottom of this post, as well as here: Villanelle, Eve.

In a nutshell - Villanelle’s first scene, she is introduced as distant and inaccessible to those around her yet still acutely observant, evident from the mimicking of the young man behind the counter. The knocking of the ice cream onto the little girl sat opposite her shows that she also has a cruel aspect to her character that is hidden beneath her friendly and unassuming exterior. From Eve’s scenes we see that she lives an incredibly unexciting life where falling asleep on both your arms is considered to be scary and justifies blood curdling screaming. We also see that Eve doesn’t act particularly professionally but has a perceptive and intuitive mind, illustrated during the meeting when considering who killed Kedrin.

Back to Villanelle, who has returned to Paris and has indulged in some extensive retail therapy. She’s taken her brunette wig off and we can now see her natural hair which is out, as it often is when she’s not doing a job. She is, however, still in the top and trousers from her earlier disguise. This means that we’re getting more insight into her character, but as she’s still half in disguise we can see that she’s still putting on her facade. She even politely picks something up that the man in front of her has dropped, maintaining her outward image and unassuming ‘nice face’.

The song playing through this scene is a french song, called ‘Il Voyage’ by Françoise Hardy. After a quick google translate it seems that the lyrics of the song are, as usual, a perfect fit for the scene. It’s a fitting representation for both how those who come into contact with, and we as the audience, see Villanelle.

The lyrics translate as:

“When you talk to him he doesn’t answer.

He seems to be watching you, you think he’s listening.

His eyes are there on you, but you won’t read it.

What he thinks of you. Do you think he’s thinking about it?

Or you walk on the street.

He lets go of your arm and neither seen nor known he disappears.

He is no longer there.”

These lyrics reflect how removed from others and unattainable Villanelle is. How she blends into the background seamlessly when she needs to, but has quiet observant eyes over those she watches and judges. Even the title of the song, which translates as ‘He Travels’, is applicable for Villanelle who is never in one place for long as she is always travelling across Europe to complete her kills.

Making her way back to her apartment, Villanelle passes a middle-aged looking woman with dark curly hair and an obvious resemblance to Anna. Villanelle’s eye is instantly caught by the woman and she maintains her stare as the woman walks past her.

This is the first of three moments when Villanelle notices different women who resemble Anna. The second, is at the end of this episode, when she sees Eve for the first time in the hospital toilets. The third, is in S1E2, when she is out walking with Sebastian. Each of the three times this happens, Villanelle has an incredibly strong visceral reaction to being reminded of Anna. After the first time she mocks the elderly lady, who lives in the apartment opposite her, for her slow walking; the second time she kills the entire room of hospital staff, not just her target Kasia; and the third time she immediately cuts her and Sebastian’s walk short to go back to Sebastian’s apartment to sleep with him.

A nice showcase of the attention to detail on the show is how a single draw can be used to show how Villanelle’s private life and work life intermingle in her living space. The contrast of having her razors, nail polish and tampons (all considered very feminine objects) in the same draw as her gun and bullets (stereotypically considered masculine) shows the contrast of a woman in a line of work that would usually be considered a man’s. Also notable is the fact that the tampons and bullets are presented identically; both in boxes and the same shape and size.

Similarly, the french song in this scene, ‘Roller Girl’ by Anna Karina, with the lyrics translating as “I’m the girl we stick on the Harley Davidson, BMW’s, 16 ton trucks” - in the same way as the draw, the lyrics emphasise the contradiction we find in Villanelle, between what is typically considered to be masculine and feminine.

The mirrored order of Eve and Villanelle’s scenes is significant as we first see Villanelle ‘at work’ and then proceed to see her at home, but with Eve we first see her in her casual setting at home and then at work. This shows the contrast between the two aspects of both their lives - professionally and personally. Professionally, Villanelle is calm, collected and confident; whereas Eve is more scattered and all over the place. Personally, Villanelle is alone with no real connections; whereas Eve has a husband and a number of coworker friends.

Continuing to settle back into her apartment we see Villanelle place the brunette wig we saw earlier, who she calls “Loulou”, on a wig stand. Giving the wig an affectionate name demonstrates how she considers her disguises to be like different people with individual personalities, perhaps she draws inspiration for the disguises she uses based on people that she’s previously observed.

After taking off her top we see that Villanelle is wearing a chest binder underneath, another ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment, but an important one as it explains why Kasia tells Eve that the killer was “ale decha” (flat-chested).

Villanelle’s vanity, and the importance she places on superficial things such as he looks, is shown when she examines herself in the mirror.

Mirrors are a recurring theme in Killing Eve, often used generally to symbolise self reflection, and specifically used in the show to illustrate how Eve and Villanelle see themselves mirrored in one another. In this instance, the mirror highlights how Villanelle’s self reflection currently only goes as far as surface level. She prioritises her beauty and material things, and as shown during her conversation with Eve in S1E5, she neither questions nor concerns herself with why or who she is killing.

These aspects to Villanelle are presented in the lyrics of Unloved’s ‘When a Woman is Around’, which plays when she is in Tuscany.

“I don’t pretend to know the ways of the world. A means to an end seems the way”

- Villanelle doesn’t care about why she’s killing, she’s good at it and it’s just the means to an end for her so she can earn money and have the lifestyle she wants.

“Who has the most of whatever’s best”

- Whatever’s best to Villanelle is beauty, money, clothes and power, all of which she does have the most of.

“Truth is seldom found when a woman is around”

- Again emphasising that no-one really knows Villanelle.

Villanelle’s boredom that she talks about in the speech she makes as Billie in S2E6, where she says that she’s “just so bored”, is shown here through the joke she plays on Konstantin; as well as her telling him she “just want[s] someone to play with” in Tuscany.

Her childish side is also shown again, which is explained much later in S3E5 when Villanelle tells her mother she wants to feel like a child. It shows her want for the parental connection that she lacked as a child. A connection she felt she had with Anna and sees to some degree with Eve, but currently only has in Konstantin as a father figure, asking him if he’d be sad if she died and he gives a sincere reply of “of course”.

Taking in mind Carolyn’s question to Eve in S2E7 “any escalation? Increased attention-seeking, recklessness”, a question she asks about Villanelle and concerning Eve herself; when looking back on this first episode the inkling that both of them were already starting to ‘go off the rails’, as well as how they both sit somewhere on the psychopathy scale when the series started, is apparent. This is shown from Villanelle in the pretend suicide attempt, the fancy hairpin, the unnecessary killing of everyone in Kasia’s hospital room, Carolyn telling Eve that “frankly she’s [Villanelle] starting to show off”, Konstantin’s worry that Villanelle might get caught and asking her in S1E2 “why are you being naughty?”, and killing Bill when she was told not too. It’s shown in Eve in her cutting her thigh, her interviewing and recording Kasia illegally, telling Elena not to tell Bill where she’s gone and endangering Dom by taking him with her to speak to Kasia.

Although earlier she knocks the ice cream onto the little girl, we do know from Tatiana’s treatment of Villanelle’s half brother, Bor’ka, and Villanelle herself when she was a child, that she doesn’t like children being treated cruelly by family. As Villanelle observes Greco and his grandson Davide playing with each other, we get a close up of her from a slight angle as she smiles. She seems to be enjoying the moment that they’re having together, maybe briefly forgetting she’s on a job and reminiscing about memories she had with her own father, who we know from S3E5 that she had a much closer relationship with than her mother - he taught her to fight, did woodworking with her and laughed at her jokes.

As soon as Greco pours the water over Davide’s head, we see Villanelle shift immediately. Her expression becomes harsh as her smile drops and the angle is now straight on Villanelle’s face showing she has been snapped out of the moment and is once again focused on the task at hand.

We see the pleasure Villanelle derives from watching the spark drain from someone’s eyes. We repeatedly see this with Villanelle, in S1E2 at the Bulgaria kill and the perfume kill, S1E3 the Fat Panda kill, Villanelle speaks about it to frank in S1E5 and Dasha talks about it in S3E7.

As well as having all her books, DVD’s and articles on female assassins; the fact that Eve is cutting her leg near her femoral artery and knows exactly how she’d kill Niko (when it hadn’t even crossed Niko’s mind how he’d kill someone), once again displays how we’re unsure if Eve just has a particular interest in female killers or actually wants to be one herself. This is something that Eve represses, shown in S2E5 when she considers pushing a man onto the tracks in the tube station and in S2E8 when Villanelle tells Eve “it’s what you wanted!” after Eve killed Raymond, but Eve rejects this.

Eve asking Niko “do you want to have sex”, just accentuates the extent of the dullness of Eve’s life and her relationship with Niko. It’s conventional, there’s little to no spark left between them and certainly no excitement or spontaneity left, it’s treated almost like a chore to be done. This is contrasted in the following scene with Villanelle, who Konstantin finds sleeping next to a man and another woman - not explicit but this short moment is all that’s needed to convey the difference. We also get a subtle suggestion of Villanelle’s preference to women, as she has the other woman’s arm wrapped over her.

Eve and Villanelle’s very first encounter with one another.

Villanelle is obviously struck by Eve’s resemblance to Anna, so much so that it almost looks as if she isn’t even going to speak to Eve. The inclusion of the mirrors and the satisfying symmetry of this shot demonstrates that similarity between the two of them that we often see. It visually represents what keeps pulling Villanelle and Eve towards each other and what Villanelle even says herself in S2E8 is the reason she’s so drawn to Eve - “we are the same”.

This moment of meeting Eve for the first time, as well as when Villanelle breaks into EVe’s house in S1E5, is also the reason why in the same episode Villanelle says she has “a thing about bathrooms” to Frank.

We think Villanelle is going to leave without saying anything but then she tells Eve to “wear it down” just before she leaves. Just as Villanelle is transfixed by Eve and her hair; Eve is also transfixed with surprise at Villanelle’s assertive manner, so much so that she does what this stranger tells her to, and throughout the series Eve continues to touch or let down her hair whenever she thinks about Villanelle.

During Eve and Carolyn’s conversation when Eve asks Carolyn if she’s married, she tells Eve “a few times, yes”. This tiny one line, that might seem like a throwaway or filler line at first, actually holds so much weight. Implied within this tiny bit of dialogue is the strain of the secret agent work that Carolyn has done for most of her life and Eve is now getting involved in. The work is so taxing on Carolyn’s private life and maintaining a marriage that it has caused her to be married a number of times. It also foreshadows the fate of Eve’s marriage with Niko, which is also ended due to the strain of Eve’s work on their relationship.

You can read my previous in depth scene analysis here:-

The First Indroduction to Villanelle

The First Introduction to Eve

S1, E2 - I’ll Deal With Him Later

S1, E3 - Don’t I Know You?

S1, E4 - Sorry Baby

S1, E5 - I Have a Thing about Bathrooms

S1, E6 - Take Me To The Hole!

S1, E7 - I Don’t Want to Be Free

S1, E8 - God, I’m Tired

S2, E1 - Do You Know How to Dispose of a Body?

S2, E2 - Nice and Neat

S2, E3 - The Hungry Caterpillar

S2, E4 - Desperate Times

S2, E5 - Smell Ya Later

S2, E6 - I Hope You Like Missionary!

S2, E7 - Wide Awake

S2, E8 - You’re Mine

S3, E1 - Slowly Slowly Catchy Monkey

S3, E2 - Management Sucks

S3, E3 - Meetings Have Biscuits

S3, E4 - Still Got It

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 1]

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 2]

S3, E6 - End of Game

S3, E7 - Beautiful Monster

S3, E8 - Are You Leading or Am I? [Part 1]

————————————————————————————————————————

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supertweetycherry · 4 years

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DIE HARD || [ii. Wishful Wishes]

—Pairings: BTS x OC

—Genre: BTS Mafia Au, Slight Fluff, Angst (a lot of it), Heartbreak, Thriller

—Ratings: 18+ | MA Content | R

—Warnings: Blood, Death, Killing, Weapons, Torture, Violence, Abuse, mentions of sex and Alcohol.

—Summary: She belong to them. They belong to her. It’s simple as that. Period.

—Word Count: 3.2k

Navigations -> Masterlist || MASTERPOST <<Prologue || PART 2>>

Chapter 1 - The Wishful Wishes

10 years later....

A young women, in her middle twenties, stood staring at the giant mirror with weary eyes. Her hands twitched as she traced all the scars and bruises she recently acquired during her run-in with her uncle’s family again. She was shaken by the amount of pain and fear running through her veins. There was a reason she chose to live away in a small apartment, rather than the big, lavish mansion that her uncle offered her. She thought she would be safe here... but she wasn’t.

They would never leave her alone.

A burst of sobs left her mouth as she looked at her reflection in disgust. Her eyes teared at the prospect of what she’s staring at. The women she sees in the mirror, doesn’t resemble the pretty, chubby little girl from ten years ago. Instead, the women she sees now is tall and regal with her long, dark black hair and an hour-glass like figure. The baby fat she used to hold has now washed away, leaving behind a sleek, curvy figure that is mostly hidden from the prying eyes.

But today, those curves were on full show.

Only because, the women had yet suffered through another horrible run-in with her uncle Sung Woo’s family. His wife (her Aunty) plus their two evil daughters (her two little cousin sisters) and the eldest son (her oldest cousin brother) had barged into her little apartment with another accusation in their minds. An accusation of stealing their daughter’s rightful place in the company that her dad built.

Yoona sighed in defeat as she remembered the various profanities thrown at her before her Aunty took the initial steps to ‘beat it’ out of her. The evil elderly women made sure to give Yoona a harsh lesson, calling her an ‘orphan’, ‘street rat’ and a ‘dirty scum’ living on their expenses, before allowing her children to do the same.

And now, Yoona could barely move. Her skin was filled with black and blue patches that pained her at every move she made.

“I wish you were here, mum.” She whispered, letting her tears fall through her eyes.

Things have changed so much since that tragic night. For one, she had no-one left that cared for her. No mother, no father, no sister... and no love. Not even her uncle Sung woo—the man who promised to take care of her, to cherish her, to keep her like his own daughter.

He did none of that.

Instead, he turned his back on her the moment they escaped from South Korea. He left her in his evil family’s claws and used her as a puppet from time to time before dropping her off like a rag doll whenever his needs were fulfilled. She tried to detach herself from him and his family, but it’s not that easy as it sounds.

Right after that tragic night ten years ago, it was discovered that her family was being targeted due to their high status within the nation. Reasons were still unclear but her uncle only explained the basics. Which includes that her identity as Lee Yoona, Daughter of Lee Jong gi and Kim Yuri was dead to the world. She was crushed and killed in a deadly explosion on her 16th birthday party with the rest of her family in tow. Her seven best friends who promised to never leave her side, were also killed in the same fire, leaving their family lines barren and free for anyone to take over.

It was a tragic headline in the newspapers. But thats what the world believes now. She can’t do anything about it.

“Shit.”

Her movements stopped as she felt a sharp stinging over a patch of skin on her ribs. It seemed soft and tender to her, indicating the huge bruise she will be receiving the next day.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly continued to clean her wounds. With every touch she made, she whimpered at the sting of pain. Her eyes continued to spill the tears every once in a while as her other free hand formed into a tight fist, letting the red ruby dig into her skin. It was a ring she never took off. It helped her with the pain and gave her a purpose to be still alive.

Looking around for a distraction, her eyes flickered to the old whisky bottle that sat in her cabinet, underneath the sink. The last time she had touched anything alcoholic, she nearly ended up jumping off the roof thinking that she could fly.

It was a stupid thought but it seemed legit to her at that time.

“Ughh... fuck this.” She groaned and slithered to the cabinet. With all her aching bruises, it took her some time but she managed to grasp the bottle in her hand and pulled the lid off with a loud pop.

The raw smell of the alcohol greeted her lungs. She pinched her nose and gulped down an handful of rushed sips through her bursted lips. It burned her insides as she coughed and gagged on the taste. It nearly choked her but she managed to survive.

“This is for you Oppa.” She muttered to no-one in particular and took some more mouthfuls of the liquid poison. The pain from her injuries subsided and she continued to drink and clean her battered body with the antiseptic.

It felt like hours before she was done. The pain was still there but she knows she can manage it. She has ten years of abusive experience to prove it.

With a loud sigh at her predicament, she pulled herself up and draped over an old oversized hoodie that reached up to her knees. It made her feel light and small as she weakly sat down on the floor again. The alcohol made her relax and her vision started to sway a bit.

Still holding onto the bottle to her chest, her eyes zoomed on the small cupcake, sitting on her coffee table with the world’s most innocent look. Just by staring hard and bringing her face closer to it, she remembered why it was there.

It was for her birthday. Her 26th birthday. Instead of feeling happy, she felt anger and sadness overtook her.

It’s been ten years since she lost her family.

Ten years since she lost the loves of her life.

And ten years since she refused to celebrate her birthdays.

Feeling a rush of negative emotions, she brought down her fist on the little piece of sugary food, squashing it into a creamy paste. Pushing it away from her sight, she plopped down onto her bed and gazed up at the chipped ceiling above her. If only she had died that night, then maybe she would have been with them, her parents and her boys.

Reaching underneath her pillow, she pulled out a crumbled photo.

The sides were ripped and the quality was bad. It lacked the colours and seemed very faded and old. But to her, this was the only thing she has left of her boys. The only picture that she managed to obtain before everything about her life was erased.

It was originally taken from one of those old Polaroid cameras that her dead sister gifted to her once. Her Unnie wanted Yoona to preserve her memories. She explained how important it was to have photographic proof of moments that one day might fade away.

“Don’t be ridiculous, yoona. It’s important for us to find a medium to preserve our most loveable memories. Our brains are not wired to remember every single thing in our life. Sometimes, it needs the photographic proof to recall the moments that are long forgotten.”

At that age, Yoona didn’t care about those words that much. But now, they were engraved into her soul like ink. She remembered each and every one of them whenever she felt lost. They reminded her of a life long forgotten. A life where she had her family and her lovers by her side.

“I miss you so much.” She whispered, looking at all her boys. They were piled up together in a sloppy, casual pose as they headed off to their classes. She had taken this photo a year before their death. She was in-charge of the photo booth for the cultural week in her school. And making memories was her job. Since, at that time, the seven pretty boys didn’t like being in the camera, she had taken great measures to snap one while they weren’t looking. It resulted in her being chased around the whole school by them but in the end she was happy at her actions. Because in those moments, she saw them being happy and carefree with themselves.

It had lightened up her coming days.

Rubbing at the scratchy surface of the poloriod, she tried to engrave their faces in her heart again. But due to the bad quality, she failed to pick up the whole image. She had to improvise from her memories that she could still access. She wondered, if they were alive, would they still look the same? Probably not. Ten years is a very long time. Heck her own body has developed in ways that completely changed her face.

As Yoona thought about her past, she was suddnely overwhelmed by a longing sentiment from her childhood days. Her mind went back to the wistful affections she received and let out a sob through her lips. The locked memories rushed past her mind like a burning train. It brought tears and pain into her eyes as the alcohol in her body broke apart the little restraint she has built over the years. The same restraint that preserved her fragile sanity.

Looking up at the crumbled photo, her fingers traced over each of their faces, trying to remember every aspect about them. Their face, their voice, their laughs, their touches... It continued on until her fingers hovered over the boy with the gummy smile. Out of all of them, his death was one of the most occurring nightmares that haunts her dreams. It repeats over and over in her head like a horror movie set on reply. From gun shots to his body being plunged into the dark lake. It haunted her to no end.

Then, it was the other boys’s deaths. Their last moments being twisted and turned by her mind into gruesome flashes of images that shakes her body awake every single night.

The nightmares are both horrible and disgusting, but she could never escape from them. She could only wish to be with her loved ones again. But it’s a wishful wish, that will never come true.

**********

Somewhere, on the other side of the world, in South Korea, a man with electric blue hair stood near a window, facing the night sky in thought. A small gummy smile was painted over his lips as he gazed at the early stars that had come out to greet a demon like him.

The night was one of the coldest nights in the nation. Solid white ice covered the entire city. Everyone was in their homes, enjoying some quiet and peaceful times with their families.

But for this particular blue-haired demon, the night was special. He was leaning against the window frame, breathing heavily as white puff of smoke filtered out of his mouth due to the intense cold weather.

His hands reached to the familiar friendship bracelet that stayed tied on his right wrist for the past 10 years of his life. He never took it off. Not even once. But today, some imbecile moron bitch tried to get her hands on his little lifeline.

And there’s one thing that everyone in the underworld knows, it is to never touch that bracelet. It was a taboo to even think about touching those delicate beads that graced his beautiful pale wrist.

He was a man who never cared about sentiments, but this little thread of colourful beads was very special to him. Each of his brothers had this on their wrists, designed perfectly to suit their personality. They cherished it so much that it became forbidden to even look at. But yet again, someone did try to go against the unspoken rule.

“I’m sorry, sir. The other masters will not be able to join you today. They’ve been caught up with some unexpected work.” His bodyguard said with a shaky voice.

The man scoffed at his brother’s excuses. Of course they wouldn’t be here. Why would they? Those little bastards are too busy hiding in their own places, too scared to face the night head on. They feared the guilt of loosing their most loved one all those years ago.

He chuckled and turned around to face his bodyguard who still stood with his head bowed deep down in respect and fear.

“They’re scared, Wook.” He told his guard. “To scared to face her memories again. Bloody losers.” He cursed before shifting his eyes to the small chocolate cake on the tall coffee table.

A small genuine smile graced his lips as he walked forward and lit the colourful candles on the cake with his lighter. He had personally picked out the candles for tonight, making sure the colours matched with his beaded bracelet. After all, he was her favourite.

The light from the candles illuminated a small figure, sitting on a chair beside the table.

It was a women, with the most curvy body shape that anyone could think off. Her hands were bounded behind her, mouth stuffed and taped with duct tape. All her makeup was recklessly wiped off, and her hair pulled and stretched into a lump of tangled mess. And the best part, she was naked.

Fully and utterly naked from head to toe. Her exposed goods were a pleasant sight for all the boys in the room. She was withering and twisting against her bonds as he gazed at the women with a sadistic glee running through his dark black orbs.

She was cold. She could feel the chills of the cold weather, penetrating through her naked skin.

“Hush, little one.” The dangerous man boop the women’s nose as her struggles got louder and louder. She whimpered at his unexpected touch. His voice was laced with innocent sweetness. “It’s okay, baby. I know you want the cake. I’ll make sure to give you a slice before I kill you.” He whispered into the women’s ear, before setting himself next to her.

He smiled at the lightened cake and proceeded to cut it, singing a song with his beautiful voice.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to my little princess. Happy birthday to you.” He singed, caressing the small picture frame that sat beside the cake. His eyes became glossy with unshed tears as he remembered the good old days with his darling.

The trapped women beside him, glared at his unusual, weird actions. She was shivering in fright as she was forced to listen to the demon beside her singing such a happy song. It made her more afraid of his unhinged personality.

His two personal bodyguards also shivered at their boss’s creepy voice singing such a normal, happy, cliche song. Even after serving him for years and watching him do this every year on the same night, they are always freaked out by his sweet persona. It was creepy, and worse than his actual demonic personality.

“Want some cake?” The demon offered to his guards who shook their heads. “I insist.” The warning was clear in his voice. They gulped and took up the offer.

Smiling, the man ruffled his electric blue hair and turned to the naked women. Setting himself on her thighs, putting most of his dead weight on her naked body and the chair beneath her, he cupped her gagged face in his hands.

Slowly but surely, he removed the tape and the stuffed gag which turned out to be her blue panties. As soon as the gag was off, the women sucked in deep breadths of air into her lungs, trying to regulate her breathing.

“Enjoying baby?” He teased, with a strange glint in his eyes. The girl whimpered.

“S-suga... p-please let m-me go. I-I’m sorry. I-I’m really—“

“Stop...” He cut her off, by thrusting the panties back in her mouth. “You talk too much, baby. I don’t like my dolls talking too much.” He grumbled, shaking his head like a child. In reality, that’s what he is. A crazy, insane spawn of the devil. He’s worse than the actual youngest among his brothers. “Here, have some cake, baby.”

The young man forced a rather large slice of dark chocolate cake into her mouth. She gagged on it because he hadn’t removed the panties and had thrusted the food deep inside her.

A wicked smirk graced his lips as he watched the women struggle. He even applied a bit of pressure on her windpipe as a cherry on top. The reaction was instant. The women’s face had turned a bright red. Her struggles had turned more fierce.

“Do you like it baby?” He mused, running his cold, slender fingers on her bare shoulders, sending cold shivers down her back. The light pressure on her windpipe was still there. “It’s chocolate. Princess’s favourite flavour.”

“Mmmhhh...” the women tried. She really tried to spit out the gag and the stupid cake in her mouth. But she couldn’t. It was stuffed in too deep, almost blocking off half of her air ways in addition to his thumb.

“Do you know why I don’t like you, baby?” He continued, ignoring her struggles. He started dropping wet, sloppy kisses on her neck. They slowly reached down to her chest, through her moulds before making their way back up to her neck. “Do you know why you’re in this... predicament?”

The childishness has vanished from his tone. It was now dark and low.

“Because you have something that belongs to my Princess only.”

The venom in his voice was strong and piercing. It mentally shocked the helpless women. All this time, she thought she had just stumbled into a psychopath by accident but his words seemed to indicate that she was sought out.

“Not to mention, you practically tried to rip off a very important part of me, even though I gave you ample of warnings to keep your curiosity to yourself.”

The kisses on her became more aggressive. His hands were now squeezing and twisting her big leverage, causing her pain and an unusual sense of pleasure.

“Joonie tried to stop me.” At this, his voice went back to that child-like whining. “But I couldn’t help myself.” He suddenly bit her neck with his sharp teeth. The women flinched.

He slowly brought his soft lips closer to her ear shell.

“I wanted to have some fun.”

And with that, the cake knife was suddenly slashed across her shoulder blades, drawing out the first blood of the night and the first set of screams that will echo in the quiet, empty house.

The next day, a new headline was broadcasted on all the channels across the nation.

‘BANGTAN HAS STRUCK AGAIN!’

Tag List: @demonic-meatball

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 4 years

Text

Dangerous (Part 1/2)

Description: It was your best friend’s bachelorette party in one of London’s best clubs when two men had closed a bet if they would be able to seduce you. And in the end, the night ended up way better than you originally anticipated.

A/N: Oh, we're back. For this two-part one-shot, I approached both of the idiots very differently - I wanted Sam to have this sexual hotshot energy while Cutter had more of that mysterious daddy vibe. And I think that somehow, it really suits both the boys. Enjoy.

Pairing: Charlie Cutter x reader x Samuel Drake (We stan a threesome in this house)

Playlist: Idiot sandwich that stole my heart™

Tagging: @missdictatorme

Part 2.

It was just another night in downtown. The sunlight was slowly fading away, ladies wore tight and short skirts, and gentlemen were sipping whiskey in the nearby bars. And London was no different. It was one of the most favorite tourist locations since it was mostly colder in there during summer and it was the crown jewel of England. Soho and Chinese street looked especially magnificent at that time of the year.

Yet the clubs were especially full of people as well. Swedish and European students, you gonna love this, mate, as Charlie said Samuel a million times. Cutter and Drake, formerly known as Morgan, were two gentlemen in their best years. They weren't some boys who would bend you over the nearest bed without knowing what to do. No. They both were quite tall, one of them would even say fairly handsome - and skilled in the first place.

Drake, the definition of a small bitch according to Cutter, was rather persistent with choosing some warmer locations like the Bahamas or the Canary Islands, let alone Cuba, for their summer vacation. But Cutter, who was born and lived his whole life in England, told him to go fuck himself and that this year, he’ll show Drake the European hospitality and girls. Samuel had to say that these young kittens looked magnificent, from both up close and from the distance.

Norwegian girls had the dirties eyes he had seen, French girls could whisper them some sweet nothings the whole night, Hungarian girls were fiery enough to show them who is the boss, Czech and Slovak girls knew well how to handle alcohol and Russian girls were both tough and sweet as candy at the same time. Yet Samuel didn't stop bitching about London being the color-less, boring city he always saw on the postcards. What did it matter that the Queen was living there when the only location which tingled Samuel’s senses was the Tower? Yet Cutter told him that Sam hadn't seen shit yet.

And bloody hell, as British men would say when they walked into the club, Samuel knew what was the boy talking about. That was the energy Sam needed to feel alive since he was rotting in hell for God knows how long. Alcohol being poured in gallons, tight pairs of jeans, and laughter all around. And this wasn’t some boring-ass club either, as Samuel would say. People were dancing, which he hasn't seen in ages. Cutter most took him to poker tournaments or to play darts.

"Bee’s knees, I love this bloody place." - Cutter sighed and took the bomber off, walking stairs down to walk to the bar of the place itself. - "Come on, you prick, don't just stand there!" - He called at Samuel with a raspy voice, laughing out loud. Sometimes, Sam looked like a small boy in a toystore. Especially when he was looking at so many lovely bottoms and tits.

"One Pimm’s Cup and a Sex on the Beach for this lady over here." - Cutter winked at the barmaid who smiled back at him, already holding the shaker to prepare some of the best drinks in London.

"What are we? Fucking ladies to drink cocktails?" - Sam asked back, leaning his back to the bar, looking around. His eyes were doing their best to see it all - the girl with afro trying to kiss the soul out of her partner's body, the boy who had his hand in his girl's panties and the twerking group in the middle of the dancefloor.

"Mate, you hadn't learned shit while you were in London. You need to start slowly before pouring down vodka and other shit." - Cutter told him, smiling at the barmaid who brought them the drinks. She was sweet - her blonde hair was in a high ponytail and her face was full of freckles. She was just the type of girl Cutter liked. Sweet, innocent, and pretty. - "Thank you, darling." - The bald man smiled at the barmaid before she ran off to serve another customer.

"And you still think that you're attractive enough to get under a young girl's panties. Who is dumber here? Cheers, mate." - Samuel answered with a dramatic British accent, toasting to Cutter before taking a sip through the straw. Yet Cutter's grin was making him sure that he had just bumped into an interesting topic.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Samuel. Both American and European chicks go crazy for a British accent. All you have to do in the bed is talk and they cum on their own." - Cutter looked around with a shit-eating grin. He knew very well that he's right. A good portion of women was into a thick British accent and his raspy voice. The voice alone could work wonders between girl’s thighs, so being tall, muscular, and having this bad boy vibe was just a bonus usually.

"I think you're lying, brother, but what can I know? I usually put my mouth to use too, but we ain't talkin’. And this mouth can show you the universe, I tell ya." - Samuel answered with a nasty grin as well, his Boston accent being fully put to use at that point. Cutter started to laugh out loud, having Samuel clueless.

"Nice to know, I will remember that, mate. You wanna show me or what?" - Cutter asked, sipping another sip of his ice-cold drink.

"You're such a douchebag." - Samuel laughed as well since Cutter knew how to turn every single situation into a stand-up.

"You see the chick at three o’clock?" - Cutter mumbled from sipping, still looking in front of himself. Samuel carefully checked her out. Not that she would notice a man staring in a club full of people, yet Samuel didn't want to come across as a creep. She was... Pretty. As a lot of women inside the club. She was yelling something at the barmaid so she would hear her, standing there in some old sneakers. Her clothes didn't reveal that much, it was just a normal white top and a pair of blue jeans. Yet something about that face made both the idiots grin when thinking about showing her the edge of paradise.

"Yeah, you bet your fucking British ass I do see that girl." - Samuel returned to the previous position, grinning into his straw just the way Cutter did. Both boys liked girls who had that little spark about them. You never could quite put the finger on it, yet it was there. You couldn't name or label it - it was the flame of the unknown, a promise of fun or... See? Neither of them knew what it is, but she had it.

"And since we’re in this bloody town for the last night, I wanna bet, mate. Since I know that British accent is a hit with the ladies and you keep telling me about some magical Boston mouth, whoever gets the girl, wins something." - Cutter put the empty glass on the bar, grinning at Samuel, having the man grinning back. Timber was yelling all over the club and it felt 2013-ish. The barmaid automatically brought both men a shot of their finest vodka since Cutter came to the club pretty frequently.

"What’s the somethin’ we talkin’ ’bout?" - Samuel bit his lower lip when the girl got her drinks and ventured back to the back of the club where the tables were. Both of them poured the vodka down their throats at the same time, both of them having that face.

"I don't know. Maybe some expansive liquor?" - Charlie asked, but after that, he started laughing. - "Oh, I know, when I get her down tonight, you owe me a ride on your motorbike baby and night with this beautiful lady." - He offered Samuel his palm, watching Sam slowly shaking it.

"When I win, your best bomber is mine. Who goes first?" - Samuel crunched the knuckles and to his surprise, Charlie motioned for him to go.

"Ladies first, mate, ladies always go first." - Charlie smiled, asking for two bottles of beer. When Samuel got his beer, he shook his head but started walking in the direction of your table.

***

It was your friend's bachelorette party and for a reason, she chose a club in London from all the destinations, like France or Italy, she could choose. You were not from there, but she wanted something big and fancy, so she decided to go for a weekend to London. You were more of staying put at home person, yet you didn't want to upset her just days from her wedding.

"Your dinks, ladies." - You yelled, earning an excited yelling of your shit-faced friends back. You’ve been sticking to beer the whole four hours you've already spent in that God-forsaken place, you've been just fine at that moment, being on bottle number four by that time.

"You're my favorite maid of honor." - Your friend Amber hugged you, giving you a big fat kiss on your cheek. You giggled at that, taking another sip of the beer. - "These men here, ugh." - Amber moaned out loud before taking a big sip of her Mochito, watching the dancefloor with her eyes open wide. You chuckled at that, sipping from your bottle.

You weren't that interested in the men there. Like, yeah, they were nice and most of the men you've encountered in England so far were true British gentlemen, but... You weren't the type who would mingle for a one-night stand. You were taking the whole crazy trip as a widening of your horizons. When Amber didn't want to be in a club, you usually traveled around to see the sights England could give you. Stratford upon Avon was cute, Devon too, but London was a blast in your opinion.

"And you're getting married next week, Amber. Don't forget about that you nasty bitch." - Monica yelled from the other side of the table, giggling at Amber's sighs.

"I envy you soooo much, Y/N. These men are everything. Just look at these damn asses." - Amber rolled her eyes, making you both laugh in sync. Suddenly, she got all serious. Her elbow bumped into your ribs making you squeal, her head motioning in a direction of some forty-something dude who was eyeing your table, slowly walking to it through the dancing crowd. - "I think he's coming for one of us, what should I do?" - Amber panicked, looking at her engagement ring.

"You won't do shit, Amber, you're the bride." - You calmed her down, making her lips from a little O in awe. She was like that when she was drunk. The man looked fine, that was true - tall with brown hair, a rough face, and a tall body. You couldn't see him clearly, you just watched him swaying his hips in black jeans and shoulders in a white t-shirt widening with every step he took.

It took him almost five minutes before he finally got there. That was mainly because of the way he was trying to sell that nasty smug. You’ve wondered how it came that he didn't wiggle his hips out. Just when he was about to tell you something, the DJ started playing some banger according to the screaming coming from the dancing crowd, which made you smile. So he leaned in without a problem. Well, at least you knew that he had some confidence inside of him.

"Night, ladies, the name’s Samuel." - He offered his palm to Monica, then to Amber and then to you, kissing your knuckles with a smile. - "How comes that three beautiful ladies end up in a place like this... Alone?" - He wondered, standing next to the empty spot long enough for Monica to scoop a bit further away. Naturally, Samuel sat next to her, giving her a rather nasty smile.

"It’s my bachelorette party!" - Amber yelled at him with a happy smile, making you smile as well when she shoved her ring right in front of that guy's face. At least the confident asshat knew that he won't make a single move at that table. Yet Samuel rose his eyebrows, smiled even wider, and gently caught her palm to look at the ring. Then he nodded and let her hand go. - "He is one of a hella happy fella, I tell you that." - And with that, his eyes hooked on your face. Monica was watching both of you with a vulgar smile on her lips.

"And what about you, doll, you're having a bachelorette party too?" - Samuel smiled, putting his bottle on the table. Before you could answer, shit-faced Amber already started telling him your story.

"She’s been single forever, I swear. It always works or spending time with her family, like, I know she's the most responsible and shit, but I am afraid that she’ll end up alone with twenty cats, and one day, she'll go nuts." - She told him seriously. The mysterious, confident and somehow sexy guy started laughing at her straightforwardness, looking you in the eyes after that.

"I will go nuts if you won't stop, bitch, this was unnecessary." - You sighed, taking a deep swing of your beer. You shook your head with an angry face. Although, Amber wasn’t stopping there, making you even more embarrassed. - "But you are a hell of a guy. Holy fuck, are those tattoos? I always wanted my fiance to get some." - She went for it and let her fingers grace his neck. Samuel had a pleased grin when she has done so.

"I've been living in Panama for some time, got ’em there." - He then proceeded to lift one of his sleeves, showing you another tattoo on his shoulder. These were poker aces. Amber but her lower bottom, looking at the tattoos, gently touching them, traveling down to feel the poor man's biceps at the very end of her exploration. To put it nicely, you were embarrassed. Yet to your surprise, the Samuel man ignored Amber drooling over him and practically climbing over the table to touch his skin. The man sat there and watched you with a small smile. - "And I have a few more on places that ain’t appropriate to show ’ere." - He mumbled and both of the ladies next to you instantly got the horny faces on.

Amber bumped her elbow into your ribs again, doing it way stealthier this time. Yeah, he was a good looking man if you'd have to be honest. He had your girls wrapped around his long finger five minutes after coming there - there was this... Testosterone or some shit like that coming out of him. Amber gave you one of these risen-eyebrows looks and bit her lower lip once again.

"Care for a dance?" - The man asked, standing up. At first, he was looking into the dancing crowd only giving you his palm as if he didn't even care. You sat there for quite a while before Samuel smiled in your direction, assuring you that he wants you to dance with him. Which, no matter how hard you'd try to deny this, it was something that made you smile too. In a gentle moment, you slipped your palm into his, hoping that at least Amber would stop hitting your ribs.

You honestly hadn't heard that song in years. Calabria felt real like a late 2010-ish song. Was this night sort of a retro party? You hadn't heard the majority of the songs in years, yet people danced to them like crazy. And let's be honest, you and Samuel weren't that much different, because as soon as you hit the dancefloor, he showed you some good moves and suddenly, it wasn't that weird or gross to be seduced by that man.

***

To be honest, Cutter was quite in the mood when he saw that Samuel and you dancing along with the other pairs. And more importantly, you two were having fun. Sam started with his most outdated moves, slowly getting to the more erotic ones when you seemed to agree with that. The man didn't want to be punched right into his nose. Yet soon, your pelvis was brought close to Samuels and Charlie could see his friend's lips whispering something in your ear. In the reaction to that, you were laughing and soon enough, you put one of your hands on his waist.

Charlie was quite familiar with the song playing. It had some good basses and the beat just invited you to dance. You were the sweetest when you let go of Samuel, rose your hands above your hand, yelling the upcoming lyrics, that went something like... - "Dangerous? Oh! That sounds good, yeah.

Talk to me baby, like I'm your dude." - It made Charlie chuckle.

He was also quite interested in the tactics Samuel used to relax you like that. The whole time Samuel was gone, Charlie stood next to the bar, thinking about what he should he do. He was choosing a tactic if you will. Every woman was different, so he better has some back-up plan if he wants to win the bet. Samuel undeniably had the charming personality chicks liked, whether he was aware of it or not. He was a forty-something-year-old dude with the mentality of a dude in his early twenties, which was attractive too.

Yet Charlie didn't have that trait. He was a man in his late forties and it could be seen as well. He was bald too. But that was something Samuel didn't quite have - the authority of something like a daddy figure if you will. He met girls who were into that sort of stuff and he hadn't got a single problem with delivering - it was quite fun actually. To say it quickly, he was a guy who was looking mysteriously with a good sense of humor, making the chicks both screaming in pleasure and very with laughter when they wanted that goofy-guy sorta stuff.

So he figured out that it would be best to figure out what you were into and work on that since the first second he introduces himself to you on the bar.

***

"You have good dance moves, Y/N!" - Sam exclaimed happily when he was leading you back to your table. You nodded, still laughing. You couldn't believe that you spend half an hour with a totally strange guy on the dancefloor. Yeah, it wasn't just dancing obviously. Sam proved to be quite handy with his palms, absorbing almost everything out of your body while his mouth was whispering funny stuff. Suddenly, you both stopped and he looked at you with a pretty bold smile. Again, he showed you how quick he could be when his left palm put some hair out of your face. - "This was fun. So... If you would like to have some more fun when you'll be leaving, call this number, deal?" - He asked and gave you a small card.

It was one of the most simple ones you've ever had seen. Samuel Drake - historian, archeologist, and an adventurer. His number was on the other side. After giving him the same nasty grin, you nodded and pushed the card into the back pocket of your jeans, letting him go.

Girls immediately noticed you coming back... All alone without that Sammy boy. But the smile was indicating that you hadn't empty hands. Amber asked you about what happened even before you sat your ass down. - "Well, we danced and lemme say, he's a good dancer and then... He gave me this business card to call him when ill be leaving. Which unfortunately won't happen since I have to lead both your drunk asses to the hotel." - You sighed, playing with the card between your fingers. Monica took it out, smiling at you.

"I'm more or less sober, so I can take Amber home while you'll find that prince charming and have a wonderful night." - She gave it back to you after reading the text under his name. - "I would love to have a cig, anyone going with me?" - Monica asked and mumbled a few curse words while she searched through her purse for a pack of cigarettes. Naturally, you got up and motioned for her to go first, telling amber to sit there on her damn ass until you come back.

It was nice to stand in some fresh air. The night was pretty cold and it was raining a bit, but you didn't care since you were already soaking wet. Monica gave you a cigarette as well and both lit it up at the same moment. She was giving you some nasty grin too, which made you chuckle. - "What?" - You mumbled, exhaling the smoke.

"He seemed to be into you big time. You sure you don't want to call the man?" - She asked and at that moment, she seemed to be pretty reasonable and sober. Your shoulders jolted unknowingly. There was something on that promise of spending a night by his side. Sam was genuinely fun, hot as far as you could say and pretty smart. Also, he wasn't drunk that much, neither were you - so it was maybe really the both-sided chemistry doing the work. A couple of times it seemed that he's going in for a kiss, yet he rather teased you and bit your earlobe gently.

"He seemed sweet and fun and all, but what about you two?" - You asked Monica silently, still smoking on the cigarette with a thoughtful face.

"Oh, shush. We'll take a cab and get to the hotel on our own. I'll look after Amber. She was right about you being all about work or family. He's a stranger and you don't have to see him ever again, and that has some magic into it. Live a bit, come on, sis." - She hugged and you, indeed, felt confident about what Monica has said.

Sam was nothing but a hot guy you met in a club. You can fuck the night away, have some fun, wait for him to fall asleep, and then drive to your hotel, sitting on a flight home tomorrow. You'll never have to see him again.

You were determined that once you'll be leaving, you'll call the man, accepting the offer. When you were inside, you walked to the bar to order some alcohol, because Amber got to drink both your and Sam's beer when you were dancing.

It took you a moment to notice that guy. He was holding a small glass of whiskey, eyeing you with a small grin. He wasn’t exactly your type of handsome, yet there was something about that face. You spotted small stable and very attentive blue eyes. This man was huge in the best meaning of the word. He wasn't fat, not at all, yet it could be seen that there are some muscles under the t-shirt he had on. He was at least twice your age, but you got nervous when you looked into his eyes.

The difference between him and the guy you met earlier was huge. While Sam appeared to be a fairly approachable, exciting, and funny person, this dude... He seemed mysterious and authoritative. Which had woken up things inside of you; things you didn't even know were there. After having your breath stuck for a while, you returned a smile to the man, which was a signal for him to move closer to you.

"Whatever the lady orders, it's my treat." - The bald man told the barmaid, having her smile. Slowly, the man put some pounds on the wooden countertop, still looking at the lady who was serving the alcohol. It was ridiculously more than what you were supposed to pay, yet the gentlemen made clear that he doesn't want a pound back. - "Sure thing, Mr. Cutter."

"And what about you, love?" - He asked, taking your palm to kiss your knuckles delicately. That accent settled inside of your ears, fully attacking your brain. It was hot only to listen to the raspy voice speaking with the fully-blown thick London accent. No matter what you did, that man’s gaze followed you around. You almost felt like you can't escape it. Why Sam was making you feel so good and that was what made you aroused, yet this man was coming across as someone who would bend you over his knee with pleasure and it made you interested as well. - "What about me?" - You asked back, smiling at the man.

"What are you doing here alone?" - Cutter said and leaned even closer, having a smile on his lips when he leaned closer enough to whisper things into your ear. He had a firm body, just like Sam did, yet these two couldn't come across differently. - "I can do something about that, sweetheart."

Was all of this a nice dream? Two attractive men approaching you on the same night, telling you to leave the place with them. Or were they serial murderers? Or did a car hit you and you were in a coma? No, your heartbeat reminded you that this is pretty much happening in front of your very eyes. What the fuck should you do? If you'll leave with Cutter, what about Sam? And if you'd leave with Sam, what about this man? Why couldn't you have them both?

Monica more or less made you swear that whatever happens, you'll leave with Sam at the end of the party. But you felt being in a tight corner at the moment. Both men had some spark in them, one of them promised you a whole night of fun and the other one felt like a total daddy.

"That's kind of you, sir." - You winked at him, not knowing what else to say. The club was slowly getting darker, changing the color scheme as it was getting closer to midnight, now playing some Russian rap songs. Cutter looked at the couples around you, seeing many of them kissing and touching far beyond the line of decency. That was before you felt tips of someone's fingers smoothing your upper arm, gently getting onto your sweaty neck and jaw.

You could turn away from that man, yet there was something that made you push your head even closer, so your lips could meet his halfway. He wasn’t shying away at all, coming in with full force - lip bite, not too long after that, he even used his tongue, holding you close by your jaw. And this man, dear lord, he had some skillful mouth. It even made you close your eyes with enjoyment, making you moan lightly into his kiss.

"So, what do you say, love? Me, you, my place here?" - He whispered once he was done with the kiss, his palm slowly traveling down on your waist and lower. Sam did touch these places, yes, but his approach was more natural than devoting straightaway. Which made you also a bit cautious and aware of the man.

"I need to go back, Mr. Cutter. But thank you for the... Ehm... Invitation anyway." - You took the drinks, hurrying up back to girls. Your heartbeat was off the charts, your whole damn body was sweaty and since there were two rather handsome men trying to win you over that night, you were aroused as well. You couldn't leave with Sam, because you'd think about Cutter and the other way around. But you were sure that you will at least masturbate that night.

"Are you okay?" - Amber yelled into your ear when you finally sat down, gulping down. You couldn't catch your breath ever since Cutter kissed you. Your gaze traveled to her and you shook your head almost frantically.

"Another guy tried to take me over to his place." - You mumbled, gulping down your whole drink at once. Monica smiled and leaned over to you.

"And was this one as handsome as that Samuel before?" - She asked, taking her cocktail out of your hand. You turned your hand to the dancefloor, imaging both the men inside of your head.

"It's hard to tell, Monica. This one was tall and well-built as well..." - You sighed, but Amber stopped you once again. - "How can you know that he was well-built?" - She wondered, taking the last ice-cold drink as well. It was a miracle that she hadn't fallen asleep until that point.

"Because I know he's a good kisser too." - You smiled and each of you started laughing like crazy. - "I mean, he wasn’t the most handsome man I've seen, yet, he had that something inside these eyes." - You shook your head, not believing the things that had happened inside that club. It was just one night you've spent there and two attractive men approached you. One of them was American, the other one was clearly British and you knew that both of them had something to offer. But you knew that you'll leave alone once again.

***

"How did it go?" - Samuel asked Cutter once he walked off the dancefloor again. Cutter was leaning his elbow to the bar, watching you and your girls chatting excitedly. After that, he turned back to Sam.

"I can't tell, mate. First, it appeared that I have her hooked, but she left after that. What about you?" - Charlie finished another glass of whiskey, moving to beer for the rest of the night. From Sam’s smirk, it was apparent that at least one of the men is feeling positive about the whole bet.

"She has my number and when I was on a smoke break, her friend told her that she should have some fun with me tonite if you know what I mean." - Samuel wiggled his eyebrows, making Cutter frown even more. Maybe he shouldn’t go for the kiss just like that, but your body was telling yes. You were attracted to him, so why shouldn't he test the waters? It was too late for these kinds of thoughts. He probably had scared you off.

The two friends were standing there for quite a while and waited for Sam's desired call, talking about nothing the whole time. Sam had to say that he had some fun time and Cutter’s most impressive bomber on top of that. But that was when both men felt someone's presence behind them.

"You two know each other?" - A voice asked them and when they turned around, it was none other than you. Your eyes were looking at both of them and it was clear that you don't know what to think of that. Sam looked at Cutter with panic, not knowing what to say.

"It's not how you think it is." - Cutter tried to calm you down, but you were visibly upset over the whole situation. Yeah, it was a bet, but Cutter meant what he said. He wanted to spend the night with you. This was just a fun way to raise the stakes. If you wouldn't get to know.

"Jesus, I should've known that you two are assholes." - You walked between the men, mumbling something about assholes, dickheads, and shits, preparing money to pay the last drinks of the night. - "How would two men like you saw something on an ugly duckling like me? Funny shit, I tell you." - You mumbled with disgust, ordering cocktails your girls asked for.

"You don't know what you're talking about, love. You're beautiful." - Cutter told you back with a small smile, looking Samuel in the eyes. The other man nodded when he realized, leaning into the bar as well. - "And intelligent as hell, which is a huge turn on. I don't know why someone as pretty as you are even let guys like us talk to you." - The American smiled at you from the other side, lust lingering inside his eyes.

Could that be? It maybe was just a bet, yet these two men seemed to be interested. It could be a game as well - but a perfect solution to your situation too. If these two knew each other, maybe you didn't have to leave the place alone because you couldn't choose between them. Maybe, you could leave with both of them at once. You’ve never done that, but the alcohol inside your veins made you courageous.

"So, you're friends, you know each other, right?" - You asked while a smile grew on your lips. Oh, Cutter knew what is about to come and... It was so nasty that it turned him on in some kind of way. Samuel was completely confused tho. - "That means you can meet me outside the club in ten, probably?" - You asked innocently, taking the drinks, smiling at Charlie. He smiled back, leaving Samuel in the dark for a little longer.

"Which one of us?" - The American demanded. He wanted to win the bet so badly because Cutter’s bombers were the best in the whole world. But when he saw your devilish grin with the shine in your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. Oh. OH. Holy fuck. You had that spark inside of you, but neither of them would ever say that you're a nasty girl as well. At least not this much.

Sam honestly never seen cutter without clothes and he didn't know if he's ready for that, but... Life was about adventure, right? And this way something Sam knew he will say yes to. There was something on having a girl helpless, being taken care of by two men. He loved to worship women, he indeed loved everything about that, but this was exciting as well. And Charlie? He knew how to approach to a threesome. There were occasions where he had joined in and in some, he was only there to watch. He especially loved when two ladies invited him to a bad. But he hadn't a single issue with giving you what you wanted.

"Both of you, silly." - You smiled sweetly before disappearing into the crowd.

#samuel drake x reader #samuel dake x reader #samuel drake Uncharted #samuel drake #charlie cutter #charlie cutter uncharted #lmao #wait for the next part #is filthy #is hot #is sexy #will cure depression #I SWEAR #these two daddies #UGH

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belladonnaandulriched · 3 years

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the dead of night | chapter eight

Frank's point of view

Syracuse looked very different that afternoon, as did Rochester. I never really went out that way that much, but there was always something about it that struck me sideways. Maybe it had to do with Joey hailing from near there, maybe it had to do with the ghoulish blue and green neon rising up from the tops of the buildings, maybe it had to do with the fact it was its own thing aside from New York City, but there was something precious about it to me. There was a part of me that said Francine hid out somewhere in there, somewhere inside of that donut surrounding the outskirts of the city.

I wondered if she knew that I wanted to find her after she went missing, and I wondered if she knew that I wanted to find her even after the trail fell cold. The murder trail on my brother fell cold, but I refused to let it go cold on her. She was my girl, my first girl, and she was Hannah's best friend aside from Joey.

But on the other hand, she might have been up in Canada. The only explanation for me was that she went missing in Canada, and therefore she stayed in Canada. There was no way she hid out there in upstate New York. And yet I knew it. I just knew it: she was there.

I peered over my shoulder to the car behind us. I thought about Hannah and her friendship with Francine: all I knew from Francine's account was she met Hannah when they attended school together and they just gelled like they were sisters. Both of them had no siblings so it made sense that they became like sisters: they also both had it rough a bit in life. Hannah was the California girl relocated to New York and grew up feeling like an outsider until she met Joey in her second year there in Oswego.

Francine had parents who wanted to separate but they stayed together for her. She sought solace in the arts from a young age and when she and Hannah attended high school in Rochester together, she took it to an almost cathartic. I recalled when first meeting her after Hannah introduced the five of us to her, that she foresaw everyone in Rochester knowing the combined force of nature that was Hannah Ellsberg and Francine Moody. And it almost came to a point shortly after Joey joined in the lead singer position.

We all saw Francine's agony in her artistry and yet she almost always checked out on a mental level most of the time. Hannah wanted her to be her manager for that reason: she could mentally check out and detach herself from the dark side of everything, and get a handle on everything. A great artist and protective of her best friend in her artistry herself, such that she was willing to promote it. She knew how to hook someone's attention, and it came to a point where she could by using nothing more than her own name. Maybe it was her last name: there was something memorable about the name of Moody, like Belladonna or even Bello, my last name.

I had just barely met Nancy but that was my assumption, too: who else would leave Seattle for the East Coast for anything, and strike up something with Geddy Lee among other things? All I could assume was these three women were sisters bonded by art and the scars of their own pasts.

I thought about Joey in that car with Hannah. Speaking of gelling... the fact the two of them had been able to bond and separate several times throughout the years always made me wonder abou them. Best friends since childhood and yet they managed to strike it up on a romantic level time and time again. It was something I had always wanted with Francine, and watching the Rochester skyline emerge through the darkening rain clouds made me wonder if it would even be possible.

She was out there somewhere and I had no idea if she had any time left.

Nancy led us to the first exit to the southern side of town, where I spotted a couple of people walking along the sidewalk as if it was a regular sunny day there in upstate New York, even though the rain was starting to come down in sheets upon our heads.

“Is that Alex and Neil?” Scott wondered aloud.

“No way,” Geddy said; his voice cut through me like a knife right there in the seat next to me. I took a second look at the two people there on the sidewalk, who appeared to be shuffling about the dampening concrete like a couple of puppets. A couple of puppets in short sleeved shirts and cut off shorts despite the cold rain. I swore I saw a bit of the neon glowing out from their heads, but then again, it could have been nothing more than my imagination doing that to me.

We reached the street corner and that was when the rain really began to fall upon us; Nancy flicked on the windshield wipers and they squeaked with each and every swish at the rain water.

“Okay—now if I remember where it's at...” Her voice trailed off as she hung a right around the corner. She ran into a puddle which had began to swell with the rain, but it wasn't large enough to warrant a huge splash.

“Do you even know Marcia and Sonia are in today?” Geddy asked her with a clearing of his throat.

“Positive,” she replied with a glimpse in the rear view mirror at him, “otherwise, I guarantee we wouldn't be going this way.” I noticed Scott peering out the windshield for himself, even though neither him nor I had any idea as to what to look for. “I'm pretty sure it's here—oh, wait, hang on, Hannah's flashing her lights at us again.”

“Sew Into You!” Geddy exclaimed right then.

“Oh, good eyes, babe!” Nancy followed up as she pulled up to the next intersection to flip a turn. She pulled up to the curb and yanked on the parking lever, and killed the engine right then. The rain pattered on the roof overhead; I watched Hannah and Joey park up ahead of us through the streams of rain water flowing down the outside of the glass.

Geddy and I climbed out of the backseat at the same time and onto the soaked pavement outside; he bowed his head and squinted his eyes against the rain. Nancy joined us outside with the hood of her jacket.

“I forgot my umbrella,” he confessed to her over the roar of the rain. Scott climbed out and led me to the car up ahead to join Hannah and Joey. There was a little bright lit shop behind us: tulles of fabric rested in the front window; beyond that stood a rack of tulles of thread.

“This is that upholstery shop we were talking about,” Nancy said from behind us.

“Let's go in and meet Marcia and Sonia,” Joey joined in right then. He lunged forward and held the door for us. We were greeted by the smell of clean brand new fabric and lemons; indeed, I spotted a pair of girls near the back of the front room both donned in heavy dark sweaters; they appeared to be talking about something about those fat quarters on the table in front of them. The one on the left had a hot pink headband across the crown of her head to separate her bangs from the rest of her straight jet black hair; while the one on the right had a messy head of hair to accentuate her round face. They both looked like twins regardless.

“Marcia, Marcia, Marcia,” Joey called out to one of them. The girl with the headband turned towards us, and her face lit up at the sight of us.

“Hey, you guys!” she declared as she set the two fat quarters on the table before her. “I was hoping you'd show up soon enough.” The girl on the left turned towards us and her eyes twinkled at the sight of Scott and me.

“Who are these two good looking bucks?” she asked Hannah and Joey.

“Scott and Frankie,” Joey replied with a running of his fingers through his jet black curls. “Two of the dudes from my gig.”

“Oh, the amazing Scott and Frankie,” the girl with the headband said with a toss of her hair back over her shoulder. She sauntered over to us, and towards Geddy.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted her with a little grin and a kiss on the side of the face, “good to see you again.”

“How's Alex and Neil?”

“Back home relaxing.”

“Please tell Neil I said hi,” Sonia said to him with a smile upon her face.

“Oh, you know I will,” he assured her as he gave her a kiss hello on the side of the face, “but I don't know if he will, though.” He turned his attention to the rest of the shop. “I never really saw the rest of this shop, if I'm honest.”

“By the way, Joey?” Marcia spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“How's that little outfit that I made for you?”

“Needs to be cleaned,” he said.

“She made you something?” Hannah asked him with a grin on her face.

“A little checkerboard thing.”

“We could make you two a quilt,” Marcia told Geddy and Nancy, “if you wish, anyways.”

“You guys are looking for Francine, right?” Sonia asked Scott and me.

“Yeah, we're—we're kinda helping,” Scott filled in.

“She was my girlfriend,” I added.

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip: she had these deep olive colored eyes that comforted me in the same vein Francine's baby blues always did. She then raised a finger at me and motioned for me to follow her. She led me to the right side of the room while Marcia talked to the others there; Sonia led me to a rack full of different types of buttons. She showed me a little packet of silver buttons about the size of silver dollars. I took a second look to see a vein of neon green inside of the four holes in the middle.

“Don't tell anyone about this,” she whispered to me, “but these are for fixing humans.”

“Humans?” I echoed in a hushed voice.

“They're special buttons crafted over in Schenectady. They're crafted so all the robots can stay within intact—at least, that's according to Lars.” She handed the buttons for me.

“Why do you think I should need these?” I asked her.

“Keep them just in case,” she advised me. “The way things are right now, it's best to go about well equipped.” I sighed through my nose and put the buttons in my coat pocket.

“The world's going to fall apart soon,” she said, “believe me when I say that, too. I'm just saying that right now—you're going to have to find Francine before it's too late.”

I thought about the pandemic, three decades after that moment of time. Like Scott, I had no idea what year it was, but other than the date itself. And yet, she could have been referring to something else.

Something about Joey having done something huge in Seattle when neither of us were looking…

Marcia called out Sonia's name and she strode past me to meet up with her. She left alone there next to the buttons, so I could eye the blue ones next to my knee. Baby blues, like Francine's eyes.

“I'll tear up the earth until I find you,” I muttered under my breath.

******************************

that final line is a quote from miguel hernandez's poem “elegy”

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 4 years

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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 24 – 3rd Elder’s Bizarre Experience

Practice makes perfect.

Frankenstein would have thrown that in 3rd Elder’s face upon seeing the latter at work shopping for groceries, comparing products by price, details, and manufacturers before he paid the cashier.

Now the ex-elder was more than practiced; however, he was not perfect.

Partially because for the first time ever, he got to put himself against a self-checkout machine.

‘What should I do...?’

The white-haired man gulped. He could swear he did exactly what his preceding customers did, but the machine just would not let him pass on to the checkout stage.

It has been quite long since he has moved into Frankenstein’s island. With the owner of the island stuck in his lab for the majority of his time spent awake, 3rd Elder has been entrusted with getting supplies whenever needed.

Unlike before, he had plenty of time, now that he lost the title as the elder of the Union.

There were a lot of options available for him once he crosses the sea, but today he opted to visit Korea.

Among many rules Frankenstein required his consent on upon entering the island was the rule of shopping: do not consecutively visit the country or the market he has visited, lest the Union finds out what he is doing.

Which is why he was beyond bewildered to find a self-checkout machine – a modern artifact he has never seen in his previous visits.

He managed to memorize what the other customers would do, and he mimicked them accordingly, scanning each product on the small transparent surface. However, the machine simply whipped up a noise that was far from pleasant to the ears, refusing to let him actually check out.

To top it off, it was a weekend with thousands of people, and the employees were nowhere to be seen.

The 3rd Elder was sweating over his entire body, feeling how the eyes boring into his body were growing sharper and hotter, until a help arrived from someone not at all expected.

“Hey, mister!”

Yelled a little girl, making the 3rd Elder start and stare down at her.

Barely taller than his waist, a girl stuck her head out to look up into his eyes, revealing a set of teeth missing an incisor above.

“You need to put them here! Or else you can’t pay!”

She pointed towards an empty spot on the machine, her finger extremely short of a threat despite her apparent attempt at a threat.

Upon turning his eyes, 3rd Elder spotted a sign, so big and fat and obvious that he could not even fathom how in the world he missed it: Please put all your products here before check-out.

“Okay? Now be good and follow the sign!”

Her hands very proudly on her waist, the girl trotted to her mother, who was just packing her groceries at the machine right next to his.

Check-out completed so ridiculously fast, 3rd Elder’s eyes chased the girl, now far away and smaller than a dot, a feat for which he needed an effort, with the market teeming with children.

In fact, the market was teeming with more than children.

Girls and boys about to write college application essays in a year or two.

Young men and women preparing themselves for the bigger world outside lectures.

Middle-aged couples and elders.

The 3rd Elder could see a variety of age groups, which was rare considering how at the Union, whether they were agents or researchers, most employees and personnel were in their twenties and thirties, in forties at most.

Which was probably why 3rd Elder was deep into reflection – also a rare occasion – probably thanks to the fact that he has been staying away from Union.

‘If I were not part of the Union, would I be in these people’s shoes by now? Worrying about studies and job, dinner for the day, and living for tomorrow? Ordinary as hell?’

Just because the people here are not physically fighting for their lives would not mean their lives are far from fierce.

He could not feel any of the innate-slash-natural possession any Union-affiliated being would beget: razor-sharp, touch-me-if-you-dare atmosphere based on daily struggle for survival, betting on one’s own life as well as those of others, or otherworldly presence fashioned from experiments, combats, and training beyond human understanding.

And the point was that this place was full of men and women around the same age as the people of Union, which led to another reflection for the 3rd Elder.

‘My trusted, faithful followers at the Union must have had lives like these before meeting me. So if it weren’t for the Union, if it weren’t for our encounters, if it weren’t for me... Maybe they would have been happy in the ordinary world, without throwing away their lives in vain.’

Never before had he regarded his followers’ sacrifices for the sake of Union’s progress as “vain.”

But now, simply and offensively put, Union is done for.

These days he was seriously haunted by a question perhaps a bit belated: just for what had his followers thrown their lives away?

“Haa......”

He could not help sighing in the middle of the street as he exited the building, with no one’s attention on him. The passersby merely gawked at him for a second or two out of pure reflex to his sudden halt.

Which was rather odd to him as well.

Every soul at the Union would bow to him as soon as his cloak flapped in the air, but nobody was treating him with awe and distant respect, and he knew it was not simply because he was missing his elder’s cloak.

In addition to the fact that as of now he looked like a highly ordinary man, everyone was busy with themselves.

“Honey! You forgot to put socks on our baby!”

“Hey, do you mind if I copy your homework? Oh, come on! Just for one day! Be a pal and save my ass, will ya?!”

“So what’s the last item on the list, darling?”

Man or woman, young or old, everyone was occupied with their lives.

And 3rd Elder found this situation rather difficult to comprehend, for as far as he was concerned, the public’s interest on nobles has skyrocketed ever since Crombell played his mind game on the world.

Nevertheless, contrary to his knowledge, the people he was witnessing could not be less interested in nobles, Lukedonia, or non-human entities.

Not that these people would represent the entire public in the world, but at least they were too busy devoting themselves to their everyday lives.

And in their presence, 3rd Elder could feel everything he has gone through fading into tiny dust, as Union, as an elder, as a modified human.

He believed everything he had ever committed was for the sake of mankind; however, his belief was melting away as he was standing in midst of plain life so very far from body modification, wrestle against werewolves and nobles, or struggle for power to stand at the apex of the world.

Everyone was busy bustling, rustling, and being busy.

He could see how each face bore personal challenges and ordeals of life, but he could also see such things could not hinder them from fully dedicating themselves to their lives.

‘And they look happy.’

He could feel his mind growing dreamily numb in the middle of a crowd boasting the perfume of ordinariness as they weaved minute knots and ties of their ordinary lives.

And he could feel guilt.

This was not his first time ever feeling guilty, but recently his guilt has grown more dominant as his question grew.

‘What if my goal – the Union’s goal to make mankind flourish was but nothing?’

The 3rd Elder broke free from his reveries, mortified by his own thought.

And then things took a sudden flip, like a set of dominoes stroked in a flash of light.

Pow!

A boom of cacophony made everyone within 100-meters radius eject themselves from their spots, and 3rd Elder joined the others to find the source of the noise.

He could find a car entering the parking lot dangerously shaking to the side, leaving angry skid marks on the road with one of its tires burst.

There was a good chance its driver forgot the very basic rule of driving: never speed in the parking lot. Which was why everyone could feel threat for their lives just by watching the said car.

“Aack!”

“Everybody, run!”

People were making themselves scarce, looking for a safe place; meanwhile, the car with a flat tire was rushing towards a child and her mom.

And the 3rd Elder recognized the child – his little lifesaver at the self-checkout machine.

‘No...!’

Without wasting even a split second, he focused his gaze on the mother and the girl, and his eye long sealed away blinked with life.

I am about to push a pair of eggs onto the floor, and I must save them without breaking them.

Telling himself to be extra-careful, he pushed the girl and her mother to a nearby bush with his power. And he could not hesitate to find out if they were safe, for he had to stop the car as well.

Screech!

Glaring into the car that was stampede-rolling into his direction, 3rd Elder concentrated his power on the mold of metal, as if pushing the thing into a stop.

To his relief, his effort was reciprocated in a good way.

“Someone call 911!”

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Are they out of their goddamn mind? This is a parking lot, for Christ’s sake!”

The voices told him the girl and her mother were safe, except for a few scratches they could not avoid.

The driver looked unscathed as well, apart from the fact that his driving record would not remain so.

‘Thank god... Oh, THANK GOD.’

The 3rd Elder had never been more grateful in his life, his shoulders and chest heaving and slouching in a huge sigh.

Once he saw things settling down, he finally took his leave.

But he could not fancy where he was headed; his legs were uncontrolled, his mind disconnected from his body.

This was the very first time he used his power for the purpose of protection, with no return on his side.

It was a bizarre experience, but it did not feel so bad.

However, such small delight did not last long.

‘What the...?’

He did not classify himself as a combatant elder.

Of course, as an elder with a one-digit number on his title, his battle competence was by no means to be underestimated. Nonetheless, his specialty was coordination of things from behind the scenes.

But that did not stop him from shaping his so-called battle instincts, as one of the top fighters in Union.

And his instinct just signaled him he had someone trailing him.

Scurrying around a dozen corners to find a place with no eyes or ears, 3rd Elder at last turned around once he made it to an empty alley, before he immediately stiffened.

“You...?!”

(next chapter)

This is personally one of my favorite chapters for this fic. Years ago, I once read an interview featuring authors of Noblesse, and they said they wanted to show how precious is the ordinary life we are born with. I don’t remember anything else from the interview, but that comment remains vivid in my head. So through this chapter I wanted to shed some light on the ordinary life in 3rd Elder’s point of view. Of course, it was a challenge writing this chapter, but it was definitely worth it. XD

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #wolfsbane

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a-strange-inkling · 5 years

Text

SASUSAKU MONTH DAY 2: Patterns

Rated T (for suggestive content and language)

Summary: Only in another life would Sakura ever hate Sasuke, and even then it’s debatable. Though in a different sky, the stars always follow the same pattern (RTN AU, First Chapter of Story that I’ve been working on)

Annoying

"You aren't mad at me, are you Sakura?"

Ah. There they were.

Uchiha Sasuke's infamous Puppy-Dog Eyes.

Haruno Sakura held back a sneer as she turned her attention back to the romance novel she was currently indulging, not in the mood for any of her overly hormonal team mate's antics. The sweet, childlike innocence in those round, onyx orbs of his was as sincere as a tray of fucking cheese. Sasuke knew better than anyone that she was mad at him.

She was always mad at him.

"Sa-ku-ra..." he cooed, trying again for her attention, speaking her name at a low and chilling octave, knowing she hated when he did that.

The Fourth Hokage's daughter only snorted at the sound of her name rolling seductively off his lips, before pivoting her entire body away from him, crossing her legs with a steely grace.

Sasuke rolled his eyes, unable to repress the smirk that had been playing at the corner of his mouth. "Well, I must have really hit close to the mark this time, you're even pulling out your age-old Ice Queen persona."

Sakura simply glared at the written text in front of her, refusing to get in yet another spat with the arrogant boy. However, the young Uchiha had not quite given up yet, he knew one particular trick that would get to the cold young woman.

"You know, no one has mastered the silent treatment quite like you, Sakura-chan."

"Don't call me that." Sakura hissed quickly, shooting him one of her nastiest looks. She never let him call her that.

Sasuke's smirk deepened. "Seems there is still some room for improvement though."

"Look, there is a pair of breasts right over there, Sasuke!" she exclaimed with feigned excitement, pointing to a fairly pretty brunette who was making her way down the street. "Why don't you go bother them for a while?"

Sasuke eyed the passing young woman thoughtfully, mildly interested, before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the spunky rosette. "Shouldn't do that, you might get jealous, then you'd be even madder at me."

Sakura stood then, abruptly, closing her book with a resounding snap, as she put distance between herself and the young Uchiha.

"Come on, Sakura!" he called after her, growing annoyed as the kunochi went to find another place to wait for the rest of their squad. She was secretly pleased that his voice had an agitated edge to it instead of the usual carefree ring that usually resounded from his mouth. "Are you going to be like this the whole mission?"

Silently, with her unparalleled grace, the kunochi leapt up several branches of a nearby oaktree, before settling back down with her book. It was all of nine seconds before Sasuke was perched behind her, peering over her shoulder.

"...how's your latest 'Kiss Handsome Boy' book?" he asked coyly.

"The hero is not handsome, he's deformed," Sakura replied with a roll of her eyes. "What's compelling about him is how deeply he loves and how loyal he is... Something you wouldn't know anything about."

"Deformed as in one side of his otherwise attractive face," Sasuke rolled his eyes. "Oh, is there a scar over one of his eyes? Or is he missing a limb?"

Sakura looked skyward in agitation.

"Heh." Sasuke smirked. "He's just missing a limb isn't he?"

"Would you just leave me alone, please?" Sakura asked him with a sigh, shifting down the branch.

"Oh, come on, aren't you going to tell me more about your hero?" the Uchiha asked smugly. "I bet he's all brooding and tortured with a tragic past, and I'm sure only you can save him."

Sakura growled in agitation before closing the book once more and placing it in her back pouch before turning her jade orbs on the Uchiha playboy.

"Okay, Sasuke, you win," she said, crossing her arms. "You have my attention, now what the hell do you want?"

"Hey," Sasuke put his hands up in surrender. "I'm just trying to find out why you're mad at me, Sakura-chan, it's not good for a team to go on a mission with unresolved issues."

"I'm not mad at you, Sasuke." she said evenly. "I just genuinely can't stand you."

"Aw." Sasuke chided, swinging his legs over the branch to let them swing. "We both know that's not true, we used to be friends once, you even used to call me Sasuke-kun, remember?"

"I was just a stupid kid back then," she replied. "Now, would you leave me alone, it's bad enough I have to spend a whole week with you."

The infamous playboy placed a hand over his heart. "Ah, you wound me, Sakura-chan... Don't you care at all about the importance of teamwork?"

"Oh, are you going to lecture me about teamwork?" she asked him. "You, the one who abandoned the team to flirt with that busty nimrod last time?"

"You're so high and mighty, you know that?" He scoffed. "Sorry that I like to enjoy myself once in a while and talk to people, unlike Menma who can barely form coherent words around women, and you, because you're too busy trying to keep up you're frigid bitch facade."

"Wow, Sasuke." Sakura gave him a mocking grin. "And you wonder why I don't like you."

"That's your problem, you don't like anyone," Sasuke explained matter-o-factly. "That's why you're so lonely all the time."

She felt her breathing hitch and her whole body stiffen at the word.

What did he just say?

Lonely...

"How would you know?" she asked lowly. "You don't know a damn thing about being alone."

"Sakura..." he began, realizing he had gone a little overboard. She was just so harsh sometimes, he couldn't help it. "I didn't mean it like that, I just..."

"You're so damn annoying! Acting like you actually know me!" she exclaimed, so angry she didn't know what to do with herself. "Why don't you just keep your mouth shut about things you don't understand!?" She stood up and leapt down from the tree, unwilling to wait around with him a moment more.

Luckily, Menma appeared, walking up the cobbled path, giving her a shy smile. "M-morning, Sakura-chan."

"Hello, Menma." she replied with a sigh of relief. "It's so good to see you."

"It really is," Sasuke replied, jumping down from his perch. "I'll have a witness in case Sakura-chan tries to do me in."

Menma sighed to himself. It seemed this would be another mission of tension between his two teammates. "Hey, Sasuke... M-my mom made cookies for the journey if you guys want some," he told them, holding out a brown paper bag where his mother had drawn a lopsided smiley face. It was an immature tactic to make peace, but it was effective more times than not.

"Ah!" Sasuke exclaimed, helping himself. "Let me at 'em! Kushina-san's cookies are always the best!"

"Sakura-chan?" Menma encouraged her to take one, trying not to blush.

"No thanks, Menma." Sakura replied, putting up a hand. "I'm on a cleanse, but they smell delicious."

"A cleanse?" Menma asked.

"Probably for the best." Sasuke nodded. "They’re too sweet to share with someone so bitter. Not to mention you've been growing a little thicker around the middle."

Menma cringed in fear. Did Sasuke just call her fat? Did he dare? So much for his peace cookies. Maybe he should try dumplings next time.

A sort of dark shadow fell over Sakura's eyes as she shot a deadly glare up at her raven-haired teammate.

Sasuke smirked in response. "Sorry, koishii, that doesn't work on me."

Sakura had a talent for scaring off her many admirers with that dark look alone, however, that frightening attitude of hers had an opposite effect on Sasuke.

He wasn't afraid, only amused.

"Heh," she replied, startling him a bit and switching gears as an easy smile spread across her face, mirroring his own. That may not work on him, but she knew something that would. "On second thought, I would love a cookie."

She strode past him then, with a little extra swing of her hips, purposefully knocking her shoulder with his own as she did so, and took a large round cookie from the offered bag."Thanks, Menma-kun, you're so sweet!"

Surprising both her male teammates, the kunoichi leaned up and brushed her lips against Menma's cheek as a token of her appreciation, making the blonde turn seven different shades of red and Sasuke's smirk diminish a little.

"Da...uh... N-no problem, Sakura-chan." the poor boy stuttered, his hands clenching around the cookie bag, lost somewhere between pure joy and mortification. His mom was right. Sweets were the way to a girl's heart!

Sakura turned and smirked triumphantly at Sasuke, glad to see his own had melted into a displeased frown, as she took a slow enticing bite of the cookie. "Mmm... you're right, Sasuke, these really are the best."

"Hn." he hummed. "Careful you don't choke, Sakura."

"Good morning, students!" Kakashi greeted, interrupting the spat.

"Ah, right on time as always, Sensei." Sasuke waved before shoving his hands in his pockets. "Where are we off to today?"

...

"Tell me."

"No, go away."

"C'mon, just tell me what's bothering you."

"No! Stop that! Get the hell away from me!"

"Sakuraaaaa."

"Sasuke."

"Look, I'll stop bugging you for the rest of the journey if you just tell me."

"No!"

"Please, Sakura," Kakashi begged from where he was leading the three teenagers. "For all our sakes, take him up on that offer."

Menma nodded in agreement. It was hard to focus on reading the map with those two bickering behind him.

"I'm not giving in to his whining." the rosette replied angrily. "...I'm going on ahead to scout."

With that, she leapt away into the trees and disappeared from sight. Sasuke moved to jump after her.

"Sasuke, give her some space," Kakashi commanded.

"Heh, she's not getting away that easily." was the ninja's careless and insubordinate reply.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Sasuke knew Sakura. He had known her his whole life and she really wasn't the icy, badass bitch she made herself out to be. She had been putting up with his normal bullshit for years with the usual scoff or roll of the eyes, whatever he had done most recently must have really upset her.

And, truth be told, he wasn't all too happy with her either.

"I can't really be sorry for something if I didn't even know what I did, you know?" he told her once he caught up with the angry kunoichi. "Come on, I genuinely want to know what's wrong."

"You, genuine?" she scoffed.

"Okay, I don't deserve that," he told her. "We're not thirteen anymore, your lousy attitude is not going to send me into the corner feeling bad about what I did. I'm human, I make mistakes. Not all of us can be perfect like you..."

"You see, that's exactly what gets on my nerves." she turned on him then, her finger pointed right into his face. "You think everything is about you."

"Well, isn't this about me?" he asked. "Isn't that why you haven't spoken to me for days, this morning, and that stunt with Menma you did to try and get me jealous."

"Ha! Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, you were." he laughed. "Unfortunately, I'm not the jealous type like you."

That earned him a glare. "Whatever makes you feel better, Sasuke."

"Look," he sighed. "Is this really going to be the whole mission? Can we just..."

"Ino is not one of those girls!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Sasuke asked, dumbfounded.

"Ino," she remarked. "You know, my best friend? She's not like those girls you hang out with, the ones who enjoy flirting with you as much as you enjoy flirting with them. She's shy, even more so than Menma, anytime a guy gives her any attention she takes it to heart. She took you flirting with her seriously."

"Who are we even talking about?" he asked, confused.

"INO!" Sakura exclaimed. "She's been in every class with both of us since the Academy. Blonde haired, blue-green eyes, wears five layers of clothing."

"Ohhhhh." Sasuke realized. "The stuttering girl... she's your friend still, huh?"

"Kami." Sakura hissed, turning and jumping to another branch.

"Look, Sakura, wait," Sasuke called after her. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean anything by it, it was Shikamaru's idea, it was all just a joke."

"Just a joke?" Sakura asked him. "Hurting a girl's feelings and making her feel foolish for believing you were actually genuine is not a joke... do you know how hard it was for me to tell her what you're really like, that you didn't actually like her, you were just messing with her?"

"Look, it was stupid," he sighed, jumping and landing beside her once more. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, you tell her that next time you see her," she quipped. "Maybe she'll forgive you."

"Fine, mama bear, I will." he sighed, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "As usual, you're blowing this way out of proportion."

She shoved his hand away and crossed her arms. "I told you what was bothering me, wasn't that the deal? Now stop bugging me for the rest of the trip."

With that she jumped away again, not slowing down, leaving Sasuke to stare after her.

Kami, that girl. She drove him absolutely crazy.

...

They set up camp and Team 7 had fallen into a not so easy silence. Sasuke had been true to his word and let Sakura alone, but the tension from before was still sizzling in the air as they went about their tasks. It was all standard teenage shit for Kakashi, but Menma was always uncomfortable with any sort of discourse, especially between his only two friends, and found himself actually missing their bickering. This competitive silence was somehow worse.

Once they all settled around the fire, Menma had calculated that no one had spoken for an hour and twenty-three minutes. While he was a quiet fellow, himself, this was just ridiculous. He turned to Kakashi with a pleading look.

Do something, Sensei!

But the silver-haired jonin was looking over their map, planning for the next morning, quite content with the silence, no matter how awkward it was. Menma turned to his right to see Sakura at the farthest end of the fire, her nose in her book, legs crossed and body pivoted away from them all. To his left sat Sasuke, sharpening his kunai, a full pout on his face as he watched Sakura's back. Menma had never seen him so grumpy. Though bothering Sakura was his lifeblood, being cut off for even an hour seemed to have negative effects.

Menma, knowing it was up to him to break the ice, squeezed his cookie bag in dread. He hated bringing attention to himself, but if it was for the good of his team, he would do it. He glanced around before choosing the member of his squad he currently liked best to try to engage with. While it was a wide known fact that Sasuke was his best friend, Sakura-chan was very pretty.

Plus she had kissed him that morning, he still felt it burning beneath his skin.

"How is your book, Sakura-chan?" he chirped, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. The sound of his soft, raspy voice was like a piano crashing from the sky on top of them all. He felt Sasuke's glare burning a hole in the back of his head and realized that he may have betrayed a rule of comradery between them that he had been unaware of. Apparently, if the Uchiha wasn't talking to Sakura, he wasn't allowed to talk to her either.

Forgive me, brother!

Sakura lowered her book and gave him a rare sweet smile over her shoulder. "It's a work of genius." she sighed dreamily. "The hero just proposed to his dying lover."

"Oh, that's um... nice," Menma replied, though he wasn't sure if it was. He wasn't one for reading, and certainly couldn't manage a thick romance novel without dying from secondhand embarrassment, but Sakura never went on a mission without one. It was the funny riddle of her being for her teacher and teammates, that someone as cold and crass as the village Ice Queen read sappy paperbacks.

Sasuke scoffed from behind, but Menma didn't even dare to face him. "There's one more cookie, if you want it, Sakura-chan." he offered, holding out the crumpled bag once more. If he was going to have to speak, he might as well try and get another kiss for his efforts. Sakura beamed and not only accepted his offer, but set aside her book before rising and coming to sit beside him. "Thanks, Menma." she beamed, making him turn a full shade of scarlet. "You are so thoughtful."

That set the Uchiha off, he tossed his kunai aside and rose to his full height. "Why does she get the last cookie?"

"I-I uh..."

"You don't have to explain yourself to him, Menma." Sakura told him firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder, making his soul leave his body a little. "Despite what he thinks, he's not the boss of you."

"Oh, wow," Sasuke started to laugh, thoroughly pissed off now, but refusing to acknowledge her before she acknowledged him. "Real nice, Uzumaki, leaving me high and dry for a pretty face."

"Sorry..." the blond began, feeling awful.

"Don't apologize to him!" Sakura exclaimed. “Like he’s one to talk.”

“Look, here’s a little free advice, Menma.” Sasuke went on regardless. “Cute as she is, she’s just going to chew you up and spit you out, there are a lot of way nicer girls around.”

Menma felt Sakura’s hand squeeze his shoulder unintentionally and knew that comment had more than stung the kunoichi. He felt something foreign in his chest flare up all of sudden.

“Sakura-chan is nice!” he told him, taking a tone with his friend he never had before. “She’s always nice to me!”

“Only cause it serves a purpose.” Sasuke rolled his eyes, unsure how the kid could be so clueless.

“Kami, you really are the most arrogant, hypocritical, egotistical, delusional fuck boy to ever grace the planet!” Sakura all but screamed at such an accusation. It was all she could do to not send a fist into his nose.

“Ah, there she is!” Sasuke grinned triumphantly.

Kakashi sighed, looking toward the heavens. It had been such a glorious hour and a half. Perhaps he had summoned some sort of karma for foolishly hoping to finish his work before they both started back up again.

“You’re such a horrid friend to him, do you know that?” she stood up and strode right up to the boy that loomed over her about a good seven inches. “You’re always telling him what to do and making him feel like he’s second best to you.”

“Yeah, well it’s better than you not even letting him speak up for himself.” he pointed out. “Stop trying to be everyone’s mother.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“Look, if you’re so concerned about Menma and his feelings, then why don’t stop using him as fuel to get to me?”

“Oh, get over yourself, Sasuke!”

“That’s enough!” Kakashi intervened. He considered himself an even-tempered man, but he could only take so much of the ongoing saga of Sasuke and Sakura. Honestly, he’d come to wish they’d get it over with and just fuck or do each other in. The older they got the more their bickering and sexual tension was getting out of hand. “Both of you, go blow off some steam, Sakura go North, Sasuke go South, I don’t want to see either of you back here until you can both be amiable comrades to one another and stop pulling Menma into the middle of your immature spats.”

“But, Sensei…”

“Now, Sakura!” He commanded, pointing his finger, making her huff as she grabbed her bag and leaped off.

“Whatever.” Sasuke shrugged, turning and taking her leave as well, leaving the silver hair ninja with his remaining student. He ruffled his blond hair tiredly. “What are we going to do with them, huh, Menma?”

“Don’t know, Sensei.” he shrugged. “They really hate each other, don’t they?”

Kakashi’s mouth formed a line. “If only it were that simple.”

…

Sakura knew it was stupid to think that Sasuke would, for once, listen to Kakashi and actually put some distance between them, but she would have liked at least a second to herself.

“You’re really something else, you know that?” he asked coming up behind her.

“Didn’t you hear Sensei? You’re supposed to go South.” she shot back heatedly, storming off faster, knowing it was pointless. If there was one thing she’d admit that Sasuke had on her it was speed. He was soon walking alongside her.

“Who cares what he says?” he huffed. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“Yeah, well I’m done with you.” she retorted.

“No, you don’t get to call me out on leading your friend on, when you’re doing the same thing to Menma, and then call me a hypocrite,” he told her. “That’s not how it works.”

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “I’m not leading him on.”

His face went deadpan at that, before taking on a persona that she assumed was herself.

“Oh, Menma-kun, I’d love a cookie!” he gushed as high as his deep voice would let him go. “You’re so sweet! You’re so thoughtful! I’m not just using you to get under Sasuke’s skin at all!”

She turned and kept walking at that, enraged that he would make such an accusation, and even more so because he was not completely wrong either.

“Ever thought about how that will make Menma feel?” he asked. “You know how he feels about you.”

“What are you talking about?” she stopped and turned around.

“He’s in love with you!” Sasuke exclaimed as if she were an idiot.

Sakura felt something snap like a twig somewhere inside her. “No, he’s not.”

“Yes, he is.” Sasuke nodded reassuringly.

“No, he’s not.”

“Yes he is!” he nearly yelled in exasperation “Most men are! Have you seen yourself?”

“...Kami” she whispered slowly, wishing the earth would just swallow her up right then and there. She hadn’t realized that Menma had a crush on her, let alone loved her. How could someone who spent so much time with her be in love with her? That was insane.

She thought of all the times she had sent him attention just to spur Sasuke and never felt so low. While it was not often and never harmless, it was flirty and could have easily made him feel that she was interested in something more than friendship. She was no better than the Uchiha,

“Yeah, it’s true, so stop playing with his feelings.”

As guilty as she felt, she couldn’t bring herself to admit defeat to him, not three times in one day. She’d make things right with Menma, but Sasuke didn’t have to know that. “Maybe I’m not playing.” she shrugged coyly, turning and continuing on her way.

“...what?” Sasuke muttered in confusion.

“Maybe I’m in love with him too,” she suggested with raised palms. “I mean…”

Sasuke was suddenly in front of her, making her almost walk head first into his broad chest. “You’re not in love with Menma,” he stated as if it were the most basic fact of life, like the rising and the setting of the sun.

“Why not?” she asked with a raised brow, genuinely asking herself as much as she was asking him. Why hadn’t she ever thought of Menma as something more? “He’s handsome, considerate, sensitive and always good to me, why wouldn’t I be in love with him?”

“Because you’re in love with me,” Sasuke told her just as simply. “That’s why.”

She stared up at him, lips parting wordlessly at such a claim. Where there was a snap before now felt like she had been struck by a bolt of lightning. To her surprise, as well as his, she began to laugh. She laughed so hard she bent over, hugging herself around her middle. Sasuke remained stoic, emitting only a small smile when anyone else would have been more than wounded.

“I’m not in love with you, Sasuke.” she told him when she straightened up and caught her breath. Where had the clueless bastard got that idea? He was just watching her with a knowing, adoring look in his eye, his hands tucked snuggly in his pockets. She tilted her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. “I hate you.”

Honestly, what planet had he been living on?

Suddenly he took her face gently into his hands and made her still, all mirth and smugness abandoning her. She stared up at him in shock, eyes wide and sparkling in the darkness as he kept her there, not two inches from his face. Blood rushed to her face so fast that it felt as if she were burning alive from the inside. Why was everything so quiet all of a sudden?

“What was that, Sakura?” he asked with an easy smile, seeing everything he needed to see, rolling her name around the way he knew drove her crazy. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I-I said,” she breathed out shakily, wondering what the hell was wrong with her voice. It sounded so soft and unsure. Like it was someone else’s entirely.

He had caught her off guard with this play. Nothing in her body was working like it was supposed to. Damn it! Why did he have to be so fucking beautiful? And tall? And sexy?

It wasn’t fair.

But, it didn’t prove anything, she assured herself. He was Sasuke. Everyone was attracted to him one way or another. That’s the only effect he had. Attraction wasn’t love. She wasn’t in love with him. In fact, this only made her more angry at him. If she could feel her hands she would have sent a fist straight into his perfect jawline.

She swallowed thickly. “I said, I hate…”

Kami, was he going to kiss her?

She stiffened as she felt his thumb brush along her cheekbones as he loomed over her all the closer, his hot breath spilling over her face.

“What?” he hummed softly. “Go on, say it.”

She stared at his lips, contemplative for a moment of what it would be like to kiss someone, but quickly remembered just who she was dealing with and snapped her gaze back to his dark eyes, so close now she could count his lashes.

“I hate you.” she whispered, her eyes darkening, it was hard to breathe at this angle he held her. But, she did it. She got it out.

She won.

He smiled then, looking so pleased that for a moment she wondered if she had said the wrong thing. The opposite thing.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, hands slipping down to her neck, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but his lips took an alternate route gently and brushed over the hollow of her cheek, the same place she had bestowed a kiss to Menma for his sweets.

He pulled back and she watched him, flushed and frustrated by his brash action and by the burning in her face centering around the focal point where he had touched her.

“You too, Sakura-chan.” he told her with a wink before turning and going on his way, leaving her alone like she wanted.

#ssmonth2019 #ssm19 #ssmd2 #sasusaku #rtn au #road to ninja au #sasuke and sakura

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thequeerwitch · 5 years

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<OLD> Chapter 1: Her Middle Name was Troublemaker

Charlotte Russo: The Lost Angel of Empire Bay

Vito Scaletta x OC

EDIT: Hey guys, thanks for supporting this fanfic. I recently updated the outline for this fanfic which adds much more about Charlotte’s backstory and family. This version isn’t going anywhere, but if you’re interested in following Charlotte’s journey then you will have to follow the new storyline. Same story, same characters, but all new details and character interactions between Charlotte and Vito. Hope you enjoy and I hope to see you back for the new story!

Word count: 6170

Rating: M

This program includes violence and dramatizations of real events which may be disturbing to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised.

Warnings: Rape, abuse, sexual themes, violence, cursing

Lurking in the shadows of Empire Bay, organized crime families commit heinous acts in attempts to gain control of the city. Alberto Clemente, Frank Vinci, and Carlo Falcone were the kings of Empire Bay. In 1951, the families were thrown in the middle of a crime war thanks to the actions of Vito Scaletta and Joe Barbaro, up and coming mobsters who made a name for themselves during the mob war.

“They made a real name for themselves in the mob world. They were good at what they did, couldn’t ask for one without getting all three.” –Anonymous “John”

But history has erased a key piece in the puzzle, the iconic ‘Scaletta and Barbero’ duo may have in fact been a trio, including Charlotte Russo. But who is this mystery woman? What part did she play in erupting the crime war? And how was she erased from history? Learn how the most influential woman in the mafia who history has completely erased, see how she became the first made woman in the Falcone crime family, and witness how her part in the Empire Bay crime war shaped the way the mafia is run today.

“Charlotte Russo was one of the most influential women in the Mafia. She was the first made woman under the Falcone crime family in Empire Bay, and she assisted in the murder of Carlo Falcone alongside Joe Barbaro and her then boyfriend Vito Scaletta, yet her name is barely mentioned.” –Jonathan Maguire

“Scaletta, Barbaro, and Russo were a team. They held a tight bond that was uncommon in the crime world, and it pains me to see how Russo has been almost entirely erased from the picture.” –Anonymous “Mike”

But how exactly did these three young hotshots get their big break? You’d have to go back to 1942, when the three came together. Scaletta and Barbaro had known each other since childhood and both were hit hard by poverty, while Charlotte Russo grew up under a father with close ties to Frank Vinci. However, her father’s untimely death left the Russo family in desperate need of money. With her mother slowly slipping into depression and no way to contact her older sister, Charlotte was struggling to keep food on the table, let alone pay rent. At the age of 17, Charlotte turned to the Kitten Heel, a sleazy cathouse owned by an even sleazier man named Sidney Penn. Penn worked under Don Alberto Clemente and owned the Empire Bay Cab and Co., a few distilleries, and a few cat houses including The Kitten Heel.

“Sidney Penn had a bit of reputation around our area. If his girls allowed him to violate them, he paid overtime. I remember he seemed to favor Charlotte most of all, and a lot of the other girls thought she was a skank. I didn’t think that, she told me every time how much she hated it, but she was desperate to keep a roof over her head, so she did whatever she could to keep money coming in. I don’t blame her…I never did…” –Margaret Young, previous employer at The Kitten Heel and friend of Charlotte Russo

Charlotte Russo found herself working for Sidney Penn in 1940, but she resigned from The Kitten Heel the following year.

January 1943

I always hated winter. Don’t get me wrong, the snow was beautiful, and the spirit Christmas was always nice, but I hated the cold. Mr. Penn, or “The Fat Man” as the girls called him, was too cheap to buy a proper heating system for the place and it was always too cold to perform properly. The clients like hard nipples, but they don’t like goose bump coated breasts. It’s not like it was our fault, it was our jobs to flaunt our bodies in lingerie. We couldn’t control it when the cathouse was colder than a penguin’s balls, but we still had to work. When the Kitten Heel closed for the night, I went back to the changing room with my friend Margaret. My robe was wrapped tightly to my body in an attempt to cling to any warmth left in my body.

“So, my brother’s coming home for Christmas. He’s bringing his new girlfriend Katie to meet the family,” said Margaret.

“Isn’t she the one from Michigan?” I asked.

“Uhuh,” said Margaret. “It’ll probably feel like summer to her when she gets here.”

I laughed and held the door open for her. I stole a glance down the hall and met the Fat Man’s gaze. He jerked his head towards his office and entered. I sighed. “I’ll be right back, I left something on the stage.”

“Sure,” said Margaret. Her tone told me she didn’t believe me, but I didn’t care. I had to just come clean with him, tell him I was done taking this “overtime.” I knocked on the office door and heard a voice from within grunt, “Come in.”

I entered and kicked the door closed behind me. The Fat Man was leaning against the desk with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “You did well tonight,” he said.

“Thank you Mr. Penn,” I said.

“So, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

He started to unbuckle his belt, but I blurted out, “No.”

He stopped and glared into my eyes. “No?”

I stood up straighter, pulled my shoulders back. “No,” I repeated, firmer this time. “I’m done taking this overtime, I don’t want you to violate my body anymore.”

The Fat Man cocked his head to the side. “I get it. You think because you’re the big shot with the perverts means you can talk back to me. You think you can do your job the way you want to, instead of listening to your employer and doing it the way I want.”

“This has nothing to do with that, I signed up to be violated by them,” I pointed back towards the stage, “Not you.”

The Fat Man stepped up to me and slapped me hard across the face. I doubled down, my hand flew to my cheek. He grabbed my hair and pinned me to the door. “You don’t get it sweetheart, working here means you work for me. If you don’t wanna do your job, I’ll be forced to terminate you.”

I hacked up a mouthful of spit and spat into his eye. His jerked down and his fingers went to his face. “Go ahead, I just gave you another reason to fire me.”

“You little slut,” he slammed my head against the door. “I own you, bitch! You’d better get that straight because there ain’t nothing that’s gonna change it!”

I pushed against his chest and he stumbled back. “Get your hands off of me! I quit, bastard! Do you hear me?”

The Fat Man straightened up and snarled at me. “Nobody talks to me like that, you hear! Nobody! Get your ass over here and apologize!“ He lunged at me and I kicked him hard in the leg, I heard a crack as my heel collided with his shin. My hand twisted around the doorknob and I fled into the hall. The girls from the dressing room looked back at me, but I didn’t have time to acknowledge them. I raced down the hall and to the back door, my heels clicked against the floorboards.

“Get back here you little slut!”

I shoved the door open and raced out to the street, the cold December air stung my cheeks. I bolted across the frozen parking lot and stopped at the sidewalk. If I could make it to the street and stop a car, I could get away. I saw two tiny pinpricks of headlights in the distance. I ran into the street and waved my arms above my head. “Stop!” The car sped closer and closer. I hopped up and down, screaming “Stop!” at the top of my lungs. The car made no attempt to stop. Well, getting run over by a car was probably a better fate than getting beaten to death, plus my mom could probably sue the driver if I died, so I closed my eyes and awaited my fate. The car screeched to a halt just as I hunched over, my hands met with the warm purr of the engine.

I looked up and a young man was getting out of the car. “What the hell lady?”

I looked down the alleyway, the Fat Man was limping over to us, a metal bat gripped in his fist. “You stupid bitch! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

I shot back to the man. “You have to help me, he’s going to kill me!”

The man cocked his head to the passenger side. “Get in.”

I ran to the passenger door and threw myself inside. Before I could close the door, the Fat Man grabbed hold of the door and grabbed my arm. I kicked him in the groin and slammed the door on his fingers. As he let go of the car, I kicked him in the head and slammed the door shut. “Step on it!” I shouted over my shoulder. The car tore down the street way above the speed limit. I sat back in the leather seat, my heart pounded against my chest so hard I thought it’d shatter my ribs.

“Who the hell was that?”

I took in a deep breath, a laugh escaping my lips. “That was my boss, and you just witnessed my resignation.”

“From the Kitten Heel?”

“Yep.”

“What’re you doing working at a sleazy place like that?”

“Desperation, mostly.”

“So, you gotta name?”

I looked over at him, and I got a good look at him for the first time. I remember he was tall when he got out of the car, he had a toned body but his clothes hung loosely on him. The clothes looked old, probably hand-me-downs. His eyes were warm, chocolate brown, but hard and calculating, they never left the road. He was olive skinned, leathery, his hands firmly gripped the steering wheel. He had a full head of soft, raven locks. He had a mole on his chin, and full lips.

“Yeah, Charlotte Russo. You?”

“Vito Scaletta. Where are you headed?”

“Little Italy, just across from an old bakery.”

“You live across from Mikey’s?”

“You know the place?”

“Know it? I used to raid the dumpster for scraps with my buddy Joe.”

“I think I remember you. Mikey was a family friend, he gave my dad free bread up until his passing.”

“I’m sorry—about your dad, I mean. I lost my old man too.”

“I’m sorry. So, you live in Little Italy?”

“I live right behind Mikey’s in a tiny apartment upstairs, right through the alley on the side. I can give you a ride over.”

“That’d be great, thank you.” We drove down the block in silence, and when I saw my apartment, I said, “You can drop me off here.” He pulled up to a gray apartment building with a stairwell running up either side to more apartments.

Vito pulled up to the apartment and as I began to get out, he stopped me. “Listen, if you need anything at all, call me.” He handed me a slip of paper with his name and number on it.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

He smiled as I got out and closed the door, and I watched as he sped down the street and rounded the corner. I sighed, my breath coming in a puff of mist, and I went upstairs and into the apartment. The blue light of the television flooded onto the stairwell as I opened the door, and I could see my mother’s hand draped over the back of the couch, a liquor bottle abandoned on the floor. I checked that she was asleep before turning off the television, picking up the bottle, and putting it on the counter.

I went to bed for the night and I woke to banging outside. I threw on a robe and slippers and I went out to the porch where my mother was stumbling about with a bucket full of soapy water and mop. Her eyes were red and puffy with dark bags lining the lower lids. From the lower apartment, I heard a gravelly voice shout, “Hey, lady! It’s six o’clock in the morning!”

My mother turned around and slurred, “You fuck off! I’m jus’ tryna keep th’ stairs clean since nobody seems ta care!”

The older gentleman down the stairs made to climb the stairs and said, “You watch your tone lady, or I’ll have you thrown out for—”

I ran down the steps and grabbed my mother’s arm, pulling her up the stairs behind me. “I’m so sorry Mr. De Costa, I promise it won’t happen again.”

He pointed a finger at me, his eyebrows furrowed. “You said that last week, and the week before that! If she doesn’t stop, I’ll call the landlord and tell him all about this, and you’ll both be out on the streets! Ya hear?!”

“Yes sir, I’m so sorry again.”

Mr. De Costa turned down the steps, slipped on the bottom, soapy step, he turned up and narrowed his eyes at me, and he stomped inside.

I went inside, took the bucket of soapy water and poured it down the tub, and I went back to the kitchen. My mother was searching through the cabinets, slamming around and making even more noise than before. “Ma, stop! You’re going to make Mr. De Costa even angrier!”

“Shut up Charlotte, you’re just tryna embarrass me in front of the neighbors!”

“Look at yourself! I’ve told you about a hundred times that you can’t just clean the stairs whenever you want, you make too much noise!”

“That moron of a lan’ lord don’t do his fuckin’ job! This place is a mess, and I’ve already called about the rats again!”

“Ma, there are no rats in this apartment. You’re just drunk again.”

My mother flopped a finger towards the corner and said, “Look! Is’ right there!”

I looked and saw a cockroach by a small hold in the wall, but no rat. I shook my head and said, “You should come and lay down.”

I went to grab her arms, but she shoved me away. “Get your hands off me! I ain’t know handicap! I can walk!”

“I wasn’t saying that—”

She began slamming cupboards again until she found a full bottle of liquor. I took it from her and said, “Ma, you shouldn’t be drinking this early.”

My mother slapped me across the face and ripped the bottle from my hand when I recoiled. She opened it and took a long swig, then slammed it back on the counter. “Don’t you ever try an’ control me, ya hear? Tha’s exactly what your bitch of a sister tried to do, and she ran away cryin’! I won’t have this in my house!”

I straightened up, my cheek still burning. “You know what, fine. If you’re going to continue being irrational and drinking away my hard earned money—”

She scoffed. “What hard earned money? For shakin’ your tits in men’s faces? You stupid whore!”

“I’m done. I’ve had it with your drinking and you constant insults!” I turned and grabbed the slip of paper with Vito’s number on it. I began changing as I called him and told him to come get me, and when I hung up, I began packing a bag of clothes.

My mother sauntered into the room, her bottle of liquor now half empty. “Who was that? Where d’you think you’re going?”

“Anywhere that’s not here.”

“You can’t leave me! I’ll kill myself if you leave!”

“I don’t care. Alessandra didn’t care when—”

“Don’t you ever use that name in my presence, ya hear? She abandoned us!”

I closed my bag, took my change purse, and I shoved past her. “She didn’t leave us mom, she left you.”

“You’re just like your father! You stupid whore!”

I dropped my bag, ripped the bottle of liquor from her hands, and I smashed it against the wall. “You’re a crazy bitch who was never there for me. Why would I want to hang around when all I do is get insulted and punched around?”

Something flashed over my mother’s face and clawed at her features, turning her shocked expression into an evil snarl. “You’ll regret that!” She made to punch me, but I backed out of the way and she sent her fist into the wall. I backed up and grabbed me bag, I grabbed a coat from the closet, and I fled from the apartment, down the stairs, and out to the street. I looked behind me to check if she was following me as I turned into the alley, and I ran into someone. I looked up and met Vito’s gaze. His hands came to my shoulders and he said, “Hey, are you okay?”

As if on que, my mother threw the door open and began screaming at me in Italian, calling me every nasty name in the book. Mr. De Costa came out and shouted, “That’s it! I’m calling the cops! You and your daughter are out of here!”

“Mr. De Costa, you don’t have to worry about me anymore,” I said. “I’m sorry to leave my mother for the cops to scrape up.”

“You come and collect this bitch! I’m not—”

“Hey, who’re you calling a bitch, you stupid idiot?” my mother chimed in.

Vito pulled at my arm. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

I nodded and walked with him down the alley and across to a tiny diner. We each ordered a coffee and talked for a bit.

“So, what happened to that car of yours?”

“Oh, uh…I seem to have misplaced it.”

I chuckled, my eyebrow raising. “You misplaced your car?”

“Yeah, it seems to have disappeared.”

“Y’think is was stolen?” I asked.

“Maybe, but what are the police gonna do?”

“Yeah, good point.” I sipped on my coffee and rubbed my cheek where my mother hit me. “What am I gonna do? I was already worried about getting a new job, but where am I gonna go?”

“Y’know, an apartment just above me opened up. I can see about getting you in there.”

“That’s really sweet Vito, but I don’t know how I’m gonna make rent at the moment.”

He hesitated a moment, the said, “How desperate are you for money?”

I scoffed. “Do I have to remind you where exactly you picked me up from last night?”

“Hypothetically speaking, how willing would you be to, I dunno, break the law?”

“Depends one what laws we’re breaking?”

“Would you be willing to steal?”

“Absolutely.”

“My buddy Joe and I have been in a bit of a rut lately, and we were considering attempting to rob a storefront tonight. You interested?”

I hesitated for a moment, weighing my options, and I finally said, “What percentage would I get?”

Vito Scaletta had invited Charlotte Russo to join him and Joe Barbaro in robbing storefronts. The three worked well together. Barbaro was the muscle, Scaletta was the brains, and Russo was the look out. Russo and Scaletta developed an especially strong bond as lovers, and the trio got along well for a while until Scaletta was arrested. With the choice of jail time or enlistment in the US Army, Scaletta chose to join the army and was assigned to the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment. It would be two years until the three were reunited, and in the meantime, Barbero and Russo took up work with Alberto Clemente.

February 1945

It was warm inside the train station, but it was also muggy. It beat standing out in the snow, but it was uncomfortable as hell. “D’you see him?” I asked.

“No,” said Joe, next to me. “Wait—nevermind, it’s not him.”

I shook my head and stood on my toes. I couldn’t grasp how Joe was so comfortable in his thick coat while standing in here. I had to remove my own coat to avoid heat stroke. I scanned the crowd, looking for Vito to emerge from one of the trains, and I bounced on the balls of my feet with excitement. “He should be here any minute.” My heart raced in my chest, kicking me like a hummingbird’s wings. A train pulled into the station and Joe and I watched as a young man in a tan soldier’s uniform stepped out. I let out a shaky sigh. “That’s him!” Vito spotted Joe and I at the end of the crowd. I raced into the center and met him in a small clearing. Vito dropped his bag and pulled me into his arms, swaying me back and forth and planting kisses along my cheeks and neck. I pulled away and kissed him briefly before Joe broke us up and shook Vito’s hand. “Hey, there’s the soldier boy!” he said.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” asked Vito.

“I got my sources,” said Joe. “C’mon, I know you’re itching to get home but let’s grab some drinks real fast.”

“Sure,” said Vito.

Charlotte Russo assisted in the theft of the federal ration stamps, got Scaletta and Barbaro into a jewelry store to rob it for their wares, and eventually assisted in the murder of Sidney “The Fat Man” Pen.

“The fat bastard deserved what he got coming to him, he was a disgusting man and everyone at the cathouse hated him. The girls at the cathouse went out and celebrated our unemployment when we heard he’d died. I guess at the time, we assumed Charlotte hadn’t gone with us to celebrate because she was sick. I didn’t think she’d actually had something to do with his death…my god…” –Margaret Young, previous employer at The Kitten Heel and friend of Charlotte Russo

April 1945

Sidney Penn, that fat fuck who violated me and other girls with the excuse of, “overtime.” The minute I laid eyes on him, the vile sense of spite flooded through my veins and I felt my eyebrows furrow into a sickening snarl. The fat bastard whimpered and pleaded, “Please…I gotta wife!”

Henry put the barrel of his gun in Sidney’s mouth. “You should’ve thought about your wife before. Don Clemente sends his regards.”

A single gunshot silenced the bastard’s cries and Henry groaned, he crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around his leg.

My body went hot with rage and I felt as though my mind fled my body. Next to me, Joe said, “You stupid fuck, you’ll be sorry!”

Through tunneled vision, I saw the three of us raise our guns and empty our barrels into the fat man’s head and body. I was only vaguely aware of my surroundings, my whole body felt numb and I couldn’t hear anything, as if my head was submerged in blood. I kept firing, each pull of the trigger unleashing a new layer of pain and anger that I hadn’t realized was rooted within me. Anger that eventually stopped feeling targeted towards the portly corpse before me, anger towards my mother, my sister, and the entirety of Empire Bay. I finally felt a pair of warm hands close around my shoulders, and one slide to my wrist, my hand was still pulling the trigger even though my gun had been long since emptied. My hand began to shake, and suddenly the numbness faded to anguish, my fingers clenched around the grip and I threw the gun at his head.

“Charlotte,” said Vito. “He’s dead now, honey. You’re okay.”

I looked down at my hands, then up to Vito.

He nodded, trying to reassure me, “It’s okay, you’re okay. We need to get Henry to a hospital now, c’mon.”

I could only muster enough energy to nod, and I went and picked up my gun. I looked down at the fat man one last time, and I spat down at him before I turned and followed Joe and Vito out of the distillery.

Vito drove and I got in the passenger seat while Joe stayed with Henry in the back. We sped to the mob doctor just in the nick of time, and we dropped of Joe and Henry. The drive home felt longer than usual, and the silence clawed at my skin and made my squirm.

As we drew nearer to Joe’s apartment, Vito broke the silence. “Y’know what, I don’t really feel like going back home.” When I didn’t respond, he said, “Charlotte?”

“No, neither do I. I need a drink,” I said.

“Me too,” he said, and we drove passed the apartment. We pulled up to a small bar and went inside, we each got a beer and we sat in silence. The alcohol felt nice, and it didn’t taste half bad either. I drank until I could feel the buzz kick in, and then we munched on fried, listening to the music in the jukebox drone on and the chatter of people float around the room.

Vito took a swig from his bottle and sat back in his seat. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Better now,” I said.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?”

I shot a quick glance over my shoulder and said to him, “Not here.”

“Yeah, right,” he said. I began to reach for my wallet but he slapped a bill on the table before I could look inside, he said, “Don’t you dare, put it away,” with a wink. I didn’t have the energy to argue so I just did as he said and left with him. He took my hand as we walked to the car, he opened up the passenger door for me, then we got in and we drove off. He drove up into the richer neighborhood, and we went further until we got to the top of a hill. Vito stopped at the guardrail and turned the engine off. I stared up at the crescent moon, feeling the buzz of alcohol waning on me. I got out of the car and approached the guardrail, and silver light of the moon contrasted the golden lights of the city, and stars twinkled overhead. It wasn’t until I felt Vito’s hands on my shoulders that I realized he’d gotten out of the car. I reached up and squeezed his fingers on one hand, leaving my other arm wrapped around my body. I took a step back into his warm chest and he wrapped his arms around my waist, his chin rested on my shoulder.

“Talk to me doll,” he whispered.

I squeezed my eyes shut and a tears dripped down my cheek. “That was my old manager, Vito, the one from The Kitten Heel. He violated all of his girls, but he took a special liking to me. It was my job; if I didn’t let him take advantage of me, I was fired. That night when you found me, I’d had enough and I told him to go to hell. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I ran. I thought that would be the end of it, but…” I paused and wiped a tear from my cheek. “All of that anger, and the fear, and the hatred, it all just surfaced when I saw his ugly face, and I hate to admit how excited I was to see that fate fuck get what he had coming to him. When he shot Henry, I just lost it. It was like everything came up, everything from him to my mother, all of my hatred, I let it out onto him…and I’m scared that I’ll lose myself if I don’t keep that part of me locked away.”

Vito pressed his lips to my temple. He came around to stand in front of me, the silver light of the moon cut across his features and darkened half of his body in shadows. He raised his hand and gently caressed my cheek. “It’s okay, he can’t hurt you or anyone else now. And I know you, Charlotte. I know that you’re one of the strongest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. When you get down to it, you’ve got a good heart.”

I scoffed. “A good heart? Neither of us are saints, Vito.”

“No, but I know that’s what you’re afraid of. You’re not about to let go of your humanity, you still have a lot of heart. It’s how I know I’m still human. At the end of the day, I love you, I love my ma and my sister, and I love Joe. We all have each other, and that’s all that matters.”

I smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist. I pressed my head into his chest and listened to heart, his strong arms encased me in his warmth and his soft lips grounded me. I raised my head and met his lips, and heat sprouted in the pit of my stomach. A passionate warmth ignited in my heart, and I lit his fire with mine. We parted and I pressed my forehead against his. He said, “You’re too good for me Charlotte, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Vito.”

Shortly after the murder of Sidney Pen, Vito Scaletta was arrested for the theft and distribution of federal ration stamps and sentenced to ten years in Hartmann Federal Penitentiary. While Joe Barbaro moved on to do bigger schemes, it’s unknown what happened to Russo between the time Scaletta was imprisoned and when he was released.

“The thing about this case is that Russo was never prosecuted for assisting in the distribution of the gas stamps. It’s as if Scaletta took the fall for her.” –Jonathan Maguire

“I was there when Henry Tomasino gave Charlotte and Vito the assignment. She didn’t go to get the stamps, but she helped distribute them when we found out we only had about an hour to get them all out. She took half and distributed them across the east and north side of the city, while Vito went across the southern and western side of Empire Bay. But if you wanna know what I think happened, I think Scaletta and Tomasino did something to give her extra protection. ” –Anonymous “Mike”

June 1945

Vito came out and sat across from me, a thin chain-link cage separating us. His hair was shaved down nearly to the head, only a thin layer of stubble covered his scalp, and he wore a blue jumpsuit. He smiled as he saw me and he sat down.

“Hi Vito,” I said.

“Hey doll. How’re things in the free world?”

“They’re rather dull without you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said. “How’s Joe?”

“I haven’t talked to him in awhile.” I looked around and then leaned closer. I said in the faintest whisper, “I just can’t bring myself to do the things we used to do. ‘They’ won’t give me any big jobs to do and it’s starting to get tiring doing the same small jobs. I know if you were here, you’d be able to get me better work.” I leaned back and smiled at him. “So how’re things inside?”

“It’s different, and it’s lousy.”

“Well, that’s what you get for committing a felony,” I teased with a wink.

“Don’t lecture me, Frankie already did that a few weeks ago…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing toward his hands.

“Vito, I heard about your mother. I’m so sorry. I’ve been checking in on your sister ever since. She and her new husband, Eric, they’re doing well. She told me to send her love.”

“About that Charlotte…” He looked into my eyes, a pained look set into his face. “Y’know with Frankie going off and a finding husband to settle down with, it got me thinking about us.”

My heart raced, a smile spread across my face. “I’ve been thinking about us too.”

“You know I love you,” he said.

“I know, I love you too.”

“You know I want to make you happy.”

I nodded. “You always do, just by being here.” He’s going to say it, he wants to marry me when he gets out.

He swallowed hard. “But we’ll be separated for a long time Charlotte.”

“I’ll always be here to visit you though. I can always check in and see you.”

“I know, but I think you should try and, y’know, settle down with someone nice.”

My heart stopped for a moment. “W-What?”

“A guy like me can’t make you happy from here. You still have time to live a normal life. You can find a man who’ll love you just as much if not more than I love you, and he’ll spoil you with gifts and give you children. He could make you happy, and give you a better life than I could.”

Tears prickled behind my eyelids. “Vito, I can’t! Wh-Why would you say that?”

“Charlotte, I love you so much. But they say that if you love something, you have to set it free. You still have an opportunity to turn your life around. You can live a normal life.”

“But I don’t want a normal life, I want you.”

“Charlotte, I still have nine years here. By then you could have a family, a husband and kids. You have an internal clock that’s ticking.”

“You don’t understand, I want that with you! I can wait for you, I can get a decent job right now and save up money, and when you get out we can start over. I’ll do anything, just don’t do this, please!”

“You don’t have to do any of that for me. If you want to do one thing for me, I just want you to have a good life. Just do that for me.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment until a guard came to take him away. Vito and I both stood at the same time and I put my hand against the cage. “I love you Vito.”

He placed his hand on top of mine and curled his fingers around mine. “I love you too.”

The guards took him back and I was left staring at the cage. My heart sank out of my body and as I left the penitentiary, I left it there with Vito. I got in my car and sat at the steering wheel. My fingers hovered over the key, but the tears flowed down my face before I could start the car. I sat at the steering wheel sobbing into my sleeves for god knows how long. When I finally composed myself, I dried my eyes on some spare napkins and I drove back home. I dug through my closet and found my old show dresses and lingerie. My fingers coiled around the lace, wrinkling the fabric into my fists.

A week later I had a job at The Blissful Angel, one of the nicer cat houses in town. It was much larger than The Kitten Heel with a long stage and a small band to play music. It was all I knew how to do other than rob storefronts, and I couldn’t bring myself to go back to that life without him. To my pleasure, I found Margaret was working there as well. She filled me in that The Kitten Heel had closed down a few weeks prior, said the Fat Man had a massive heart attack and his wife sold the place to get whatever money she could. I pretended to believe it, she didn’t need to know I had a part in his death. Having Margaret with me helped me transition back into the old life. I stayed with her for a few weeks, then got an apartment on my own. It was easier going back to my old ways with a familiar face.

A few months after I got the job at The Blissful Angel, I saw a familiar face come into the house. Joe and a few others stumbled in, clearly already tipsy, and Joe beckoned me over. We went into one of the back rooms, but thankfully he didn’t want that from me.

“Where the hell have you been kid?” he asked. “Ever since Vito got the can, you’ve been real distant lately.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“What happened? I went to visit him a few days ago and he said you two’d gotten into a fight, that you hadn’t visited him since.”

“Please Joe, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Like hell you’re not. I thought you were my friend!” I gasped and covered my eyes to catch my tears. He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m really frustrated right now with this.”

I pressed my lips together, breathing slowly to prevent myself from crying and ruining my makeup. “He told me to move on from him, that I should think about settling down with a nice man and living a normal life. I can’t do that Joe, Vito is my whole life. You and him are my best friends.”

“Then don’t. I can get you hooked up with my new boss. I’m working with Carlo Falcone now. We can get you a good position.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t go back to that life. For now, I’m just trying to scrape together whatever I can.”

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m gonna try to get out of here.”

“Where’re you gonna go?”

“I dunno, I haven’t thought about it. Maybe I’ll track down my sister, Alessandra, but I’m gonna go as far as money will take me.”

“Hey, you don’t have to do that. I can hook you up with my boss, we’ll get you some good work.”

“Just…just forget about me Joe. Forget you ever knew me.”

“Charlotte,” he began.

“Joe, please.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Fine. You want to break up our team, I won’t stop you.” As he left, I sat on the bed with my face in my hands. I took in deep breaths as the wave of anguish passed, and not a tear was shed. I sat up with my head high and my eyebrows furrowed. As I stood, I straightened out my dress, I put on my most seductive face, and I stepped out of the private room and onto the stage for my number.

#mafia 2 #mafia 3 #vito scaletta #fanfic #vito scaletta x oc #imagine vito scaletta #vito scaletta fanfic #vito scaletta x reader

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unadulterateddetectivething-blog · 5 years

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20 Best Birthday Gifts For Women 2019

A little warmth, a lot more love. Everyone loves a spa. You could gift her a nice spa session closer to home, and prep for a small bash when she is back. If you think that she would be working on her birthday, if you are looking for best birthday gift ideas, gift her a spa session close to the office. Two things to remember here would be to make sure that she has enough free time and that the spa is not far away from work, so no time is lost in commute. If she is taking the day off, then nothing is better than opting for a couple of spa session at home! It would be fun and relaxing for both of you.

Anyone who obtains the position of being a mother in your life does not necessarily have to be your biological mother. She can be a caretaker, a teacher, a friend who is already a mom, a woman who inspires you, your wife who is a mother or even your mother-in-law. For all those special women, browse through the best presents for mom and gift those special presents to them when they don?t expect such surprises at all! Women love to be pampered out of the blue and your mom will definitely appreciate your kind and heartfelt gesture of making her feel like the Queen in your life. So, stop looking for birthday gift for mother in local shops or your market and visit us for a variety of gifts at one single platform.

This French-inspired take on kicking butt in the business world comes from the pen of Mireille Guiliano, author of French Women Don't Get Fat and French Women Don't Get Facelifts: The Secret of Aging with Style & Attitude In Women, Work & the Art of Savoir Faire: Business Sense & Sensibility, Guiliano uses her unique French perspective to help women from all walks of life understand why so many French businesswomen are effortlessly chic and cool in the face of stress on the job. A senior executive and spokesperson for Veuve Clicquot herself, Guiliano is uniquely qualified to help women strike a healthy work-life balance. This would be a great gift for any working woman, recent college grad, or anyone who is interested in French culture.

For the active women, Sweaty Betty has got you covered. We're a fan of this backpack in particular though, as it's ideal for commuting to work, running home with, using as a gym bag or for any overnight stays. With comfortable, padded shoulder straps, and additional support straps across the chest and waist, it feels secure and sturdy, and balances the weight across your back well - even when it's jam-packed full. The black, scuba-style fabric is great for keeping your stuff dry in wetter weather too, while the internal and external zipped pockets are good for storing valuables and the two open, exterior pockets are handy places to store your water bottle.

My girl Paola said the best gift she ever got "was surprise tickets to Paris for no reason (this was a first for both of us), and I remember exactly where he told me and how I cried in the middle of the street." It was a big-ticket buy, she said, but if you can't whisk your girl away to her favorite destination, get her something that'll make her feel like she still went — like this calendar that doubles as wall art.

Would not it be lovely if as a 21st birthday gift, one received a ‘joie de vivre' mug? Life is after all just getting started at that point, so why not! Then, imagine that as a 50th birthday gift for someone who is all chirpy and still young at heart, one give him or her a red and white ceramic mug and coaster set with a quirky ‘ nifty at fifty ' message on them-wouldn't that be so much fun? On the other hand, for those just about reaching the end of the first ten years of their lives, a small, cuddly teddy bear with a basket full of assorted candies and a message bottle with a heartfelt from you might suffice as a 10th birthday gift.

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Another thing that your wife will surely love other than the session at the spa is a fun makeover. There are various agencies and even individuals who work as stylists and help people get makeovers. You can get in touch with a professional and look up individual styling projects. Depending on your wife's preferences, you can give the stylist a brief about the clothes, accessories, and makeup. Alternatively, you can ask the stylist to do a complete change of style and give your wife an entirely different look than what she regularly sports.

Whether it is his wedding, birthday, anniversary or he is an explorer, college grad, or family cook, we have a great range of unique, eccentric and creative gift ideas for him. Whether he's a sports guy, tech geek, culinary master or all of the above we have the best gift ideas for men Additionally, if you're looking out for last minute gifting options or gifting ideas, our unique list of hand-picked men's gifting collection has everything you are looking for. You can shop budget gifting items, novelty gifts, gift a wallet, gift cuff links, gift footwear, gift apparel and many more gifts for him.

Almost all women love jewelry, but the one that you gift her for her birthday has to be truly different and special. Make sure you know what type of jewelry your wife loves the most, such as a necklace, earring, finger ring, bracelet, etc. Once you are sure about it, you can decide on a few designs or styles that you think she would like. To make it extra special, you can perhaps add her birthstone to the jewel. Also, you could engrave a small message on the piece of jewelry, so that she will always cherish it forever.

#birthday #happy birthday

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baekhyunspizza · 7 years

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Emergency Room

Member: Chanyeol

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: A late-night mishap lands you and an unexpected guest a visit to the emergency room.

“Another test, honey?” Ms. Lee asks with a sympathetic frown as I slide a tub of pistachio ice cream and a pack of Oreos across the counter. Her family owned gas station was conveniently located a two blocks from my dorm at the university, and it serves as my go-to consolement when I fall victim to the errors of Mr. Ko.

“I just can’t catch break in my physics class. And I definitely didn’t need such a low test grade so close to Christmas. Mr. Ko couldn’t teach if his life depended on it,” I reply, the defeat clear in my voice. I actually went into the class feeling good about the material. But one poor exam and a fat red F later, I quickly learned that acceleration and velocity were not my forte.

“Well, you tell Mr. Ko that if he keeps this up, he’s gonna have a very angry Hana Lee to deal with,” she says with a southern drawl, a teasing smile reaching her eyes.

“I’ll make sure to relay the message. He’ll be quaking in his New Balance sneakers,” I laugh. Offering a small thanks to Ms. Lee, I grab my change and take my plastic bag from the counter. I check to make sure my barely-functioning keychain is securely attached to my belt loop, frowning at the little keys hanging onto the misshapen and cracked plastic ring. I wave once more in Ms. Lee’s direction before shuffling out of the store, a subtle chime indicating my exit.

Small snowflakes begin to descend from the sky and I quietly thank myself for deciding to drive to the store instead of walk. Although the store is a mere two blocks from my dorm, I have enough street smarts to know that walking by myself at this time of night would be a stupid idea. That, and I’ve seen just enough episodes of Criminal Minds to make me incredibly paranoid. Just as I mentally applaud myself for my wise thinking, a warm, large hand covers my shoulder and I immediately stop in my tracks.

“Miss,” his deep voice says.

This is it, I think.

It was actually happening. I knew my luck would run out eventually. I am going to die at as a broke college student, wearing my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and my mom’s Levis from 1997. Holding a tub of pistachio ice cream.

Why couldn’t I have an honorable death, like saving children from an oncoming bus or rescuing puppies from a burning building? I’d even settle for some sort of freak accident. But dying on a late night ice cream run is a little ridiculous. It sounds like something from a flopped murder mystery novel. I can see the newspaper headlines now. Girl Dies Buying Ice Cream from Abysmal Gas-Station. I can’t let myself die in such a humiliating situation. I have too much dignity. Clenching my jaw and balling up my fists, I wheel around on my heel and aim directly for the middle of his face.

“What are you doi-” he asks with wide eyes, not being able to finish his question before my knuckles collide with his nose. Why don’t they emphasize how much socking someone in the face can hurt in the movies? I knew it’d sting a little, but I didn’t expect for my knuckles to feel like they were in split in half underneath my skin. Shaking out my hand to ease the pain, I look back to the man and see fresh blood gushing from his nose. His long, lanky legs stumble back and he bends over the waist, trying to avoid bleeding on his dark jeans and black converse. It drips onto the pavement in small crimson specks and I feel proud.

Yeah, I did that. Go me.

“Serves you right for trying to touch me, jerk,” I yell in his direction before hurriedly reaching for the handle to the driver’s door of my car.

“You dropped this!” he hollers. The man waves a small object in his hand and I squint as an attempt to make out its shape. It catches the light of a nearby street lamp and glints a metallic pink color. Crap. Looking down at the keychain in my hand, I notice there’s only four keys instead of five. He begins to walk towards me with his palms outstretched in front of him. The universal sign of surrender.

“I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you. You just dropped your key while you were fumbling with your bags so I was gonna return it to you,” he said, carefully pinching the petite key in between his thumb and index finger to avoid dirtying it with any blood. Up close, I see that he’s not a middle aged pervert. He’s probably only a year or two older than me. Wavy brown hair covers his forehead and his big eyes are wide with fear of being struck again.

There have only been two other times in my life when I’ve been this mortified. Once, when I was five and had an accident on the first day of kindergarten out of nerves, and again when Bryce Taylor rejected me at the spring formal in eighth grade. But this….This might top the list. I probably just broke the nose of the guy.

“I-I can’t believe I just did that I’m so sorry-” The words cannot come out of my mouth fast enough as I rush up to him and look up to examine his wounds.

“Do you have anything to stop the blood?” he asks, turning his head to the side and spitting out crimson from his mouth. I rummage through my purse for anything that could possibly pause the continuous stream, but it’s a lost cause.

“I don’t-I don’t have anything. Oh God it’s getting worse,” I start to panic as the flow seems to be getting heavier.

“I’m driving you to the hospital.”

“No, it should stop soon. I’ll be fine really,” he says looking at the ground, eyes widening at the large burgundy patches on the concrete.

“No, we’re going. I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if I just leave you here with a broken nose in the snow,” I insist, leading him to my car. I unlock the passenger door and he ducks in, his height proving to be problematic inside my 1994 Honda Accord. Sliding into my seat, I ignite the engine and the vehicle roars to life.

“I never got your name,” I say turning towards him.

“I’m Chanyeol,” he replies, leaning his head back against the headrest.

“Y/N. Sorry for breaking your nose,” I say sheepishly. Snow continues to fall outside, but not heavy enough to making driving difficult.

“So...are you a student at the university?” he asks, trying to break the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m surprised you’re being so cordial to me. But yes, I am.”

“I figured I should get to know the person who’s driving me to the hospital. Maybe we can even be friends.”

“But I broke your nose.”

“I’m not one to hold grudges,” he says, and I laugh at his playful banter. I silently thank God for making him such a friendly individual.

“Maybe. You should have my number, so you can send me any information about the hospital bill. I’d feel awful if you paid for it yourself since this entire thing is my fault.”

“You think I’m gonna make you pay for the bill. I didn’t peg you for a jokester.’

“I’m serious, I’d really feel better if you had it,” I insist, giving him my number in case he needs it.

“Hey, Chanyeol?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you try not to get any blood on my seats? They’re leather.”

“You broke my nose.”

“Touché.”

“Thank you, Dr. Nam. I would say I hope to see you again soon, but that wouldn’t exactly be the truth. At least, I wouldn’t want to visit again under circumstances like this,” Chanyeol says, shaking hands with the middle aged physician.

“It’s my job, son. Maybe you’ll find a better way to approach young women at night,” Dr. Nam replies with a smile.

“Fair enough,” Chanyeol laughs.

I learned a couple of things about Chanyeol as we sat in the urgent care waiting room. He was a law student that grew up near the coast but moved to our small town this year to start settling down. He’s the only one in his family that decided to pursue their education and go to college. He’s also an expert charmer.

“So I never asked, but what was a pretty girl like you doing in a place like that old gas station?” he says, nudging my elbow with his. I look up from the magazine I’ve been reading to pass the time as we wait for his name to be called for a consultation with Dr. Bynes. I roll my eyes at his lame attempt to hit on me, but I smile at the corniness of it all.

“Failed test. Needed some saturated fat and excessive sugar to ease the hurt. And what’s a pretty boy like you doing walking by himself late at night? Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger?”

“I’d like to not become strangers.”

“I ruined your nose.”

“Oh please. We both know my real moneymaker is my smile,” He flashes a thousand dollar grin at me and I laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Chanyeol asks, confused by my source of amusement.

“It’s just an odd sight. You smiling as your nose is broken and dried blood running down your face. That, and your tooth”

“I’m known for my nice set of chompers.”

“I chipped it.”

“You did not,” he says, reaching for my phone and checking his front teeth in the reflection on my screen.

“Guess the nose wasn’t enough.”

“You know,” he starts, “you’re making it really hard to flirt with you.”

“So what do you think? Could I pull off this look?” Chanyeol asks as we walk back to my car. His nose is covered in white bandages and all of the dried blood has been removed from his face.

“I don’t know, Chip. The whole mummy vibe isn’t really working in your favor,” I reply, pointing to the gauze.

“Chip?”

“Your tooth.”

“Does that make you Mrs. Potts?”

“No way. She’s old.”

“Well, I mean based on those jeans, I wouldn’t have a hard time believing you’re a mom of four,” I hit his arm and scowl at him.

“Hey now, I don’t need you breaking my arm too,” he says as he pretends to wince in pain and rubs the spot where I hit him.

“Dork.”

He just smiles, chipped tooth and all.

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maggyme13 · 6 years

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How I became a Monsterhunter Part 1

I loved „The Witcher 3-Wild Hunt“ and so I decided to write a little story about it. I think I will place it during the time of the game, just following Lambert around and not Gerald. I hope I don´t go to OoC and that my Oc ain´t to Mary Sue or unbelievable. Its been a long time since I played it, so please don´t kill me if the timeline or story is fucked up a bit.... :)

Please leave a comment or send me a message and let me know what you think….

Gedanken

It has been dark outside for some hours now. But that didn´t bother Milli a bit.

She was having fun with some of her friends in the pub, when all of the sudden her boyfriend showed up, arm in arm with another girl she didn´t know. All the 23 year young women felt was a peng in her chest and the looks full of pity by her friends.

“Milli. -”One of her best friends said.

“ I can´t believe- why would he?” trembled her voice, switching between anger, hurt and disappointment.

“You want to leave?”

Do I ?

“I need to talk to him know, maybe it isn´t what it looked like.”

“We will come with you.” Her other best friend said.

“No. I need to do that on my own.”

“Ok. But we will be at the bar, so we are close. “

She only nodded in response.

It took the young women almost a minute to walk through the cheer amount of people in the bar, just to reach her so called Boyfriend. Every second she needed, was a second she saw him in the arm of another woman.

Just seconds before she reached her destination, her world collapsed. The man she loved, and were in a relationship with for over a year now, leaned down and kissed the other woman on her lips.

A tear sneaked her way out of her eye and she wanted to disappear into thin air.

She had reached her destination and knew she need to know what was going on. Better know or never.

“Leon?”

He turned around with a bit of chock in his face.

“Milli? You are´t suppose to be here. I thought you had a movie night over ad your friends house.”

Was he accusing her to be where she shouldn´t be?

“The TV went down, so we decided to go, grab a drink. But what are you doing here?”

He snorted

“Having fun. Listen I wanted to tell you this tomorrow, but now is alright, too. We were never a thing. You were just a bet I had with some of my friends. After I won I stayed with you until I found a new girl. What can I say, bad sex with an fat girl is better than no sex at all. But now that I have Sarah here I don´t need your stupid ass anymore.”

He turned around again, leaving a stunned and broken woman staring at his back.

“Are you deaf as well? He said leave him alone. Troll!” The women, Sarah, sneered.

Everything was to much for her. And without thinking she just ran for the exit, not wanting to be there anymore.

She could feel the looks of other guests on her and one or two hands tried to stop her, but she couldn´t tell if they belonged to her friends or strangers.

A loud smack was the last thing she heard before bolting out of the door and onto the empty morning streets.

She lived three streets away, but she wasn´t feeling going home. Instead she turned around corners until there was no music left to hear.

The city she lived in,wasn´t very big. Just 50.000 townspeople, so it was unlikely for her to get lost.

She stopped, when she reached the little park, where the moat was located in the middle-ages.

It circled the whole old town of her hometown and was beautiful to walk in , during the day. At night, it was dark, only a few lamps spend light and wouldn´t it be for the moon, Milli weren´t able to see her own hand that night.

But she knew where she was. Only a five-minute walk away from home. Ten, when she would take her time.

She saw a bank and decided to sit down to gather her thoughts and get her head straight.

Why would he say such things? I know I am not the thinnest or sexiest girl, but that was just cruel.

Tears started to flow down her face. Blue hair got on her face, her braid must have gotten lose, while she was on the run.

A bet. I was nothing but a easy lay and a bet to him. How could he-

She went on, ranting in her head and sobbing into her hands, until a movement in the corner of her eyes got her attention and she looked up.

In front of her stood a brown wolf with amber eyes.

The young women looked it in the eyes trying to process what she was seeing.

It has been ages if not centuries that wolfs lived in these parts of Europe. There was only a hand full of small packs in her country and most of them, if not all, were on the other side near the border.

She was sure, there was no explanation on how it could be there. But she knew, those were dangerous creatures. Yes, dogs are descendants of these noble creatures, but that didn´t mean they are harmless.

No sudden movement Milli. Don´t want it to attack you.

She thought, knowing there was no possibility in hell she would be able to get away from this thing. So maybe it would decide, she wasn´t worth it and walk away.

But the wolf hat other things on its mind. Slowly, to slowly for her liking, it took one step towards her after another. Looking her right in the eyes.

It almost seemed like, it was making sure it was walking towards the right person.

Just mere centimeters away from her face, it stopped.

And now Milli saw how big it really was. It´s eyes were on one level with hers and it´s hot breath fell on her face.

It nudged her with its snout and let out a little huff.

“Did someone just left you alone like me? Mhm. Come here let me pet you. You not seem to be dangerous. Only alone. A lone wolf.”

She slowly lifted her hand to let the wolf sniff at it. Not wanting to scare it, making it attack her.

When it had sniffed at her hand, she stroke it´s head and after a while the wolf licked her face.

When it´s tongue reached her forehead, a bolt got through the young woman´s body and she lost consciousness.

Milli woke up with a headache, she never thought would be possible and when she tried to stand up, she realized it wasn´t just her head that was hurting, but her whole body was.

What the fuck happened yesterday? Oh -yeah.

And then she remembered. Her boyfriend (well now EX), her run and -The Wolf ,were was the wolf. But more important, where was she?

That wasn´t her bed she was laying in.

In fact, it wasn´t a bed at all.

Looking around she realized she was in the middle of a forest. One she had never seen before in her life. It was definitely not the forest that could be found a 15 min drive out of her town by car.

“Fuck. Where am I? And how do I get home?”

She sighted and wanted to cry again, when she spotted the wolf. It stood there. Ten meters away and looked at her with a interesting look on it´s face.

“You! How- Why. What?”

She started to say, but realized it would be stupid to talk to a animal and ask it where she was and how she got here.

Maybe its trained...

“Can you show me the way out of here?” Milli asked with hope swinging in her voice.

The wolf looked at her and turned around, only to look back at her again over its shoulders.

Is that thing bigger than yesterday evening?

She started to walk towards it, only to realize she was still wearing her outfit of the previous night.

It consisted of a pair of denim shorts. A T-shirt of her favorite festival (the W:O:A) and a pair of chucks.

The wolf waited for her to reach it, and they walked next to each other for hours.

When the sun went down and night fell, the young woman had scratches everywhere. On her arms, her legs and even one or two on her face.

She was getting tired, not being used to walk for hours through under-bushes.

Although her family and her used to go hiking in the mountains.

She had stopped for just a second to tie her shoe, but when the young woman looked up again, the wolf was gone.

Shit!

Panic started to overtake her body when she heard a voice.

“Is someone there?” It was an male voice, fear was in it as well as was age.

“Yeah. I am here. I lost my path.” Milli answered- she was already lost and in danger, perhaps she was lucky one time this evening.

A light started to come towards her, and just a moment later she saw the person the voice belonged to. It was an older man ( maybe 50?) that stood in front of her, looking her up and down, crunching his eyebrows.

They looked at each other for some time and Milli recognized the clothing the man was wearing as something the medieval people would have worn.

Please let this just be a festival... please.

“You said you lost your way back there?”

“Yes. Can you help me getting back to civilization?”

Another minute of silence followed, were the old man looked her up and down, as he were thinking what to make of her appearance and the circumstance of their meeting.

“My wife and I have a little house, mere minutes’ walk down that way. You can come with me and stay the night. Have some warm stew too.”

He turned around with these words and walked back the way he came.

Well let’s go then!

And ten minutes later, she joined her savior (hopefully) in front of a little wooden house.

“Dava! What took you so long? I feared you attacked and dead.”

A female voice said, before he could open the door fully.

“Sapra, I am fine. This is Milli. Found her near the wooden stone. She lost her path. That´s why I am late. I told her she could stay the night.”

He told the woman on entering and motioned Milli over.

“Hello. I don´t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. My husband doesn´t trust people. That he brought you here means you are in need and harmless. Let me take a look at you.”

The old woman said.

She had long white hair that was braided into a long dutch braid. The dress she wore was simple, no jewelry and her face was gentle.

“You are wearing next to nothing. You will fetch your death. I will give you one of my old dresses. Come on, come on. We can eat as soon as you are ready.”

Milli followed Sapra into the only other room, it was their bedroom. But it wasn´t very big. Only one bed.

“Put this on and then you can join us in the other room.” Sapra left.

Milli striped her clothes down to the underthings and put on the dress.

It was a simple one, nearly a tailed sack. But it was warmer than what she wore before and was glad about that.

The young woman entered the main room and saw Sapra and Dava sitting at their table.

“Ah Milli. Seems like my old dress fits you. Come sit with us and eat. It´s not much, but it will warm your body.”

The old woman motioned towards an old chair on her left and the young woman gladly accepted.

Dava handed her a bowl of stew and a piece of bread.

They ate in silence.

“Tell be girl, how did you end up in the woods?” He asked her with a gruff voice.

Earning him a scolding look from his wife.

“I was with friends, but I got separated. I tried to find my way back, but I got lost. That´s when you met me. No need to tell them about the wolf. It looks like the middle-ages and I don´t want to be burned as a witch. I am very far away from home.”

Part 2

#witcher #oc #lambert x oc #adventure #monsterhunter

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omarbelloutiworld · 4 years

Text

100 difficult riddles & Answers that kids and families will love

1. When you do not know what I am, then I am something. But when you know what I am, then I am nothing. What am I? A RIDDLE

2. You can see me in water, but I never get wet. What am I? A REFLECTION

3. The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I? FOOTSTEPS

4. When I am released to the wind, you look away and you pretend, but away your friends I will send. What am I? A FART

5. What English word has three consecutive double letters? BOOKKEEPER

6. Imagine you are in a dark room. How do you get out? STOP IMAGINING

7. What English word retains the same pronunciation, even after you take away four of its five letters? QUEUE

8. When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But, if you do share me, you don't have me. What am I? A SECRET

9. A man is pushing his car along the road when he comes to a hotel. He shouts, "I'm bankrupt!" Why? HE IS PLAYING MONOPOLY

10. An English word has six letters, remove one letter, and twelve remains. What am I? DOZENS

11. �� What question can you never answer yes to? ARE YOU ASLEEP?

12. What invention lets you look right through a wall? A WINDOW

13. What s as light as a feather, but even the world's strongest man couldn't hold it for more than a minute? HIS BREATH

14. What occurs once in every minute, twice in every moment, yet never in a thousand years? THE LETTER M.

15. I never ask questions but am always answered. What am I? A DOORBELL

16. If you go to the movies and you're paying, is it cheaper to take one friend to the movies twice, or two friends to the movies at the same time?

- IT'S CHEAPER TO TAKE TWO FRIENDS AT THE SAME TIME. IN THIS CASE, YOU WOULD ONLY BEBUYING THREE TICKETS, WHERE AS IF YOU TAKE THE SAME FRIEND TWICE YOU ARE BUYING FOUR TICKETS.

17. What gets bigger every time you take from it? A HOLE

18. What is full of holes, but can still hold a lot of water? A SPONGE

19. Which came first the chicken or the egg?

THE EGG. DINOSAURS LAID EGGS BEFORE THE REWERE ANY CHICKENS

20. No matter how much rain comes down on it, it won't get any wetter. What is it? WATER

21. I'm flat when I'm new. I'm fat when you use me. I release my gas when something sharp touches me. What am I? A BALLOON

22. Three times what number is no larger than two times that same number? 0

23. What do you throw out when you want to use it, but take in when you don't want to use it? AN ANCHOR

24. I cannot hear or even see, but sense light and sounds that may be. Sometimes I end up on the hook, or even deep into a book. What am I?A WORM

25. Which ring is square? A BOXINGRING

26. Why are manholes round instead of square?

IF THEY'RE SQUARE IT'S POSSIBLE FOR THE COVER TO SLIP DOWN THE HOLE (DIAGONALLY). A ROUND MAN HOLE CAN NOT FALL DOWN NO MATTER WHICH WAY IT IS ROTATED BECAUSE IT'S WIDTH IN ANY DIRECTION IS GREATER THAN THE OPENING ON THE HOLE.

27. What tastes better than it smells? YOUR TONGUE

28. At night, they come without being fetched. By day they are lost without being stolen. What are they? THE STARS

29. The more you have of it, the less you see. What is it? DARKNESS

30. What starts with a T, ends with a T, and has T in it? A TEAPOT

31. Say my name and I disappear. What am I? SILENCE

32. What is it that after you take away the whole, some still remains? WHOLE SOME

33. Forward I’m heavy, but backwards I’m not. What am I? TON

34. I am a box that holds keys without locks, yet they can unlock your soul. What am I? A PIANO

35. My first is twice in apple but not once in tart. My second is in liver but not in heart. My third is in giant and also in ghost. Whole I’m best when I am roast. What am I? A PIG

36. Remove six letters from this sequence to reveal a familiar English word. BSAINXLEATNTEARS BANANAS(REMOVED SIX LETTERS)

37. What has four wheels and flies? GARBAGE TRUCK

38. What has a forest but no trees, cities but no people and rivers but no water? MAP

39. Runs smoother than any rhyme, loves to fall but cannot climb. What am I? WATER

40. Take me and scratch my head. What once was red, is black instead. What am I? A MATCH

41. What is as big as you are and yet does not weigh anything? YOURSHADOW

42. It is an insect, and the first part of its name is the name of another insect. What is it? BEETLE

43. I'm where yesterday follows today, and tomorrow's in the middle. What am I? A DICTIONARY

44. How much dirt is there in a hole 3 feet deep, 6 ft. long and 4 ft. wide? NONE – IT IS A HOLE

45. Name all the numbers from 1 – 100, which have the letter ‘A’ in their spellings? NONE

46. What kind of coat is always wet when you put it on? A COAT OF PAINT

47. What kind of cheese is made backwards? EDAM

48. What can you hold in your right hand but never in your left hand? YOUR LEFT HAND

49. During what month do people sleep the least? FEBRUARY

50. What can never be placed in a sauce pan? ITS LID

51. I am always there, some distance away, somewhere between land or sea and sky I lay. You may move towards me, but distant I will stay. What am I? THE HORIZON

52. I can only live where there is light, but I die if the light shines on me. What am I? A SHADOW

53. What kind of room has no doors or windows? A MUSHROOM

54. What can you catch but not throw? A COLD

55. What has a Heart but no other organs? A DECK OF CARDS

56. Two people are born at the same moment, but they don't have the same birthdays. How could this be? THEY ARE BORN IN DIFFERENT TIME ZONES

57. What's orange and sounds like a parrot? A CARROT

58. What always goes to bed with its shoes on? A HORSE

59. How can you make 7 even? REMOVE THE S

60. What am I? A QUESTION

61. I can bring tears to your eyes; resurrect the dead, make you smile, and reverse time. I form in an instant but I last a life time. What am I? A MEMORY

62. Mr. Smith has two children. If the older child is a boy, what are the odds that the other child is also a boy? 50 PERCENT

63. A man builds a house rectangular in shape. All the sides have southern exposure. A big bear walks by. What color is the bear? WHITE. IT IS A POLAR BEAR

64. What starts with an e but only has a single letter in it? ANENVELOPE

65. A girl who was just learning to drive went down a one-way street in the wrong direction but didn't break the law. How come? SHE WAS WALKING

66. If in a car race, the man who came two places in front of the last man finished one ahead of the man who came fifth. How many contestants were there? 6

67. A murderer is condemned to death. He has to choose between three rooms. The first is full of raging fires, the second is full of assassins with loaded guns, and the third is full of lions that haven't eaten in 3 years. Which room is safest for him? THE THIRD ROOM. LIONS THAT HAVEN'T EATEN IN THREE YEARS ARE DEAD.

68. What's black and white and red all over? A NEWSPAPER

69. What flies when it's born, lies when it's alive, and runs when it's dead? A SNOWFLAKE

70. I am the only organ that named myself. What am I? THE BRAIN

71. You walk into a room with a rabbit holding a carrot, a pig eating slop, and a chimp holding a banana. Which animal in the room is the smartest?YOU

72. What always murmurs but never talks, always runs but never walks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never speaks? A RIVER

73. I am taken from a mine, and shut up in a wooden case, from which Iam never released, and yet I am used by almost everybody. What am I? A PENCIL

74. I'm tall when I'm young and I'm short when I'm old. What am I? A CANDLE

75. What house can fly? A HOUSEFLY

76. What goes up and doesn't go down? YOUR AGE

77. No matter how terrible things get for the people of the Arctic, they will not eat a penguin. Why? THERE AREN'T ANY PENGUINS IN THE ARTIC

78. A group of ten people are going out for pizza but only two of them have an umbrella to keep them dry. But they manage to walk all the way to the pizza place without getting wet.How is this possible? IT ISN'T RAINING OUTSIDE

79. What runs around the house but doesn't move? A FENCE

80. What goes around the house and in the house but never touches the house? THE SUN

81. A man finds a small iron coin dated 154 B.C., what's it worth? IT IS A FAKE. NO COIN CAN SAY BC

82. There is a one-story house. The walls are blue, the floor is pink, the stove and cupboards are red. What color are the stairs? THERE AREN'T ANY STAIRS

83. Why was the baby strawberry crying? BECAUSE ITS PARENTS WERE IN A JAM

84. I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played. What am I? A JOKE

85. I can't go left, I can't go right. I am forever stuck in a building over three stories high. What am I? AN ELEVATOR

86. What goes back and forth constantly, but never in a straight line? A PENDULUM

87. What dress can you not wear? AN ADDRESS

88. What belongs to you but others use it more? YOUR NAME

89. I don’t have eyes, but once I did see. Once I had thought, but am now white and empty. What am I? SKULL

90. What has hands that can’t clap? A CLOCK

91. Which three numbers have the same answer when added together and multiplied together? 1, 2 AND 3

92. What has a mouth but can't chew? A RIVER

93. How did Mark legally marry three women in Michigan, without divorcing any of them, becoming legally separated, or any of them dying? HE WAS A PRIEST

94. I have all the knowledge you have. But I am not much larger than your fist. What am I? I'M YOUR BRAIN

95. Everyone in the world needs it. They generously give it, but rarely take it. What is it? ADVICE

96. Take off my skin - I won't cry, but you will. What am I? AN ONION

97. Lighter than what I am made of, more of me is hidden than is seen. What am I? AN ICEBERG

98. You heard me before, yet you hear me again, then I die, ’till you call me again. What am I? AN ECHO

99. If you were standing directly on Antarctica’s South Pole facing north, which direction would you travel if you took one step backward? NORTH

100. What has a neck but no head? A BOTTLE

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gummysungshine · 7 years

Text

Home [FFXV Loqi]

(Request for anon asking for some Loqi content without a pairing). Prompt: ‘A character returns to a place they haven’t seen in some time.’ Pairing: None. (Loqi centric). Words: 1754 Rating: Teen??? Warnings: Mentions of death (parental), OCs, unbeta’d so there might be mistakes.

This is just one of the many little ideas I like to toss around in my head about Loqi. I hope this is something more along the lines of what you’re looking for, anon ^^

Permalink: http://gummysungshine.tumblr.com/post/164149680124/home-ffxv-loqi

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Altissia. Such a beautiful city...one that Loqi remembered fondly. He hadn’t walked the vast, maze-like streets of it for years. It felt like a lifetime since he’d last been there.

Things hadn’t changed too much, from what he remembered of the few years of his childhood that he lived there; but still, it felt as if it was lacking something he thought it once had. Perhaps he was reminiscing with rose-tinted glasses, and the city had never been quite as magical and homely as he remembered it. Yet his attachment to it, to the people, to its culture, felt as if it’d never left him.

Kept from ever seeing the place he’d spent some years growing up in with his mother, Loqi was glad he could finally return. As much as he appreciated his paternal grandparents raising him back in Niflheim, the place of his birth, all he wanted was to spend more of his time in his mother’s birthplace. His happiest days had been spent in Altissia, days that were carefree and peaceful - for the most part. Although born in Niflheim, and having a Niff father, the Empire’s presence in and out of the city had scared him as a small child. His mother had told him not to fear them, for his own father had given his life to their cause. Loqi never really knew much of his dad, but his mother often painted him in a good light, telling him how brave he was to fight for his country, how great a man he’d been.

Out of everything that he’d missed about Altissia, he missed the time with his mother the most. Nothing could replace her. Nothing would ever replace her love, her care, her attention. Even as he walked the city’s streets, routes that he and her had taken together, he found himself almost looking back, thinking he’d see her trailing behind him, just as she did when he was a small boy. Many a summer’s day was spent wandering the city’s charming streets, lined with newly bloomed flowers and tourists visiting its splendour. But that was a much simpler time.

Nothing could change the past, as much as he wished it would. As unfair as it now seemed, Loqi had learned to cherish the time he’d had alone with his mother, before being torn from the place he’d grown to love, and forced back where he was born...‘where he belongs’ his grandparents had said. But Loqi knew he didn’t really belong in Niflheim, regardless of his birthplace. He loathed the cold bleakness of Gralea; it was the polar opposite of Altissia in almost all aspects. The dislike and detachment he felt towards Gralea was the reason behind his trip back Altissia in the first place, leaving as soon as he was old enough to be out of his grandparents’ care at age 18. He hoped he could visit the city much more, being part of the Empire’s military. One of the reasons why he’d even considered a position in the Niff army was because of Altissia. Loqi wanted nothing more than to protect the place he loved so dearly, to see it continue to thrive; he knew the only way he could do that was with the Empire’s influence over the region.

Stopping just outside the place that once served as his home, taking a moment to recall how things had been before he left some 8 years ago, he was happy to see that things weren’t all that different. The flower shop that resided below the apartment was still there, seemingly still run by the family that owned it, recognising one of the women inside. The aroma of floral scents brought back so many memories, recalling how the fresh smell of flowers often infiltrated the apartment above. A nice bonus, he thought.

“Loqi?”

Broken from his thoughts, turning at the sound of his name, he found himself looking at a strangely familiar young woman. He tried to work out exactly why she seemed so familiar, when it suddenly hit him.

“Emilia?”

“So it is you!” The woman beamed, moving in for a hug, one that Loqi gladly accepted. “Gosh, it’s been forever. I never thought I’d ever see you again.”

“It’s so good to see a familiar face.” Smiling back at her, he was glad to have been acquainted with someone from his childhood.

He remembered spending days with the girl, playing around the maze-like city - seeming all the more larger to him back then. He’d gotten to know her all because of the shop below where he’d lived. The girl often join her mother while she worked in the store, and it’d been by chance that he’d gotten to know her. Guessing he must’ve been about 4 or 5 at the time, he’d recalled wandered off a little too far from his mother, becoming lost, yet still managing to find his way back home by some stroke of luck. He remembered sitting outside the shop, crying, because he thought he’d never see his mother again. That was when Emilia had found him. She’d approached him, sat with him, asked him what was wrong, before taking him inside to her mother where he waited until his own eventually arrived back. From then on the two of them had grown to be close friends for a number of years, playing everyday together outside the shop front.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me.” He laughed. “It’s been a while...”

“I don’t think I could mistake those chubby cheeks.” She teased harmlessly.

Making a face at her words, Loqi didn’t exactly enjoy being reminded of the ‘baby fat’ that refused to leave his face, even at the age of 18.

“You haven’t changed too much.” Emilia eyeballed him, giving him a quick once over, still seeing much of the young boy she remembered. “Gotten taller...just a little.”

“And you've gotten taller. A lot taller...” Frowning at the fact the woman was a good few inches taller than his own meagre height, he supposed he couldn’t win at everything.

The girl he once knew had changed quite a bit. She still retained her boyishness, however taking it more to the extreme. Her hair was cropped short - shorter than even his own - and her clothes were pretty far removed from what the majority of the women were wearing in the city. Loqi always knew her as being rather tomboyish back in the day, so seeing her now wasn’t exactly the biggest shock to him. It was an evolution that made sense to him, considering the way she used to be.

“How have you been?” Her question broke him from his past reflections. “I never got to say goodbye before you just suddenly left, so I couldn’t keep in touch with you...”

“I know. I’m sorry...” Hanging his head, the guilt - by no fault of his own - suddenly sprung upon him. “I didn’t know my grandparents would whisk me away so quickly after everything.”

The seemingly abrupt death of his mother had left him in his grandparent’s custody, at just the tender age of 10. Even to that day he wasn’t entirely sure of what caused her death. All he remembered was seeing her suddenly fall ill, her condition worsening over the period of about a month, before she was all too soon snatched away from him.

“My mum and I were so worried about you after we heard what happened. She would’ve offered to take you in if your grandparents hadn’t.” Emilia sighed, diverting her gaze to the shop window for a moment. “She still mentions you from time to time, you know? Wonders where you are, what you’re doing...how you’re dealing with things.” Taking him by the arm, she pulled him towards the storefront. “You really must come see her, I’m sure she’ll be so happy to see you again.”

Not getting a chance to even decline the offer, not that he would anyway, Loqi found himself being dragged into the familiar flower shop. Nervousness quickly bubbled up within him, not entirely sure why he even felt that way. Maybe it was excited nervousness, he guessed.

“Mum!” Emilia called out, getting her mother’s attention as she approached the counter to the back of the shop. “I found someone you might recognise.”

Loqi watched a tanned skinned, middle-aged woman turned towards the sound of her daughter’s voice, eyes squinting in confusion for a split second before gasping in surprise. Rushing around to the front of the counter, she moved to hold Loqi by the hands, gazing at him as if he was some sort of apparition, wondering if she was really seeing who she thought she was.

“Loqi? Loqi...” She squeezed his hands in her own. “Praise the Astrals. It’s so good to see you again, sweetheart.”

Feeling her arms wrap around him, hugging him tightly, Loqi clenched his eyes shut, the overwhelming urge to cry washed over him. It felt as if something inside him had suddenly been filled; an aching emptiness overflowing with such vigour that it left him unable to squash it back down. Unable to hold back, a soft sob escaped his lips, as much as he tried to suppress it, his form shaking as he cried, clutching the woman close to him like his life depended on it.

“Oh, hun...” She rubbed his back soothingly, tears brimming in her own eyes. “Don’t cry.” Pulling back a little, she thumbed away the tears rolling down his cheeks, trying her hardest to smile, not wanting him to be upset. “There, there, now. It’s okay.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Loqi apologised, feeling a little foolish. “I just-”

Another pair of arms entwined themselves around him, resting at his waist, as a chin propped itself upon his shoulder. Turning his head, Loqi was met with the side of Emilia’s face.

“It’s okay. We understand.” Her voiced whispered, reassuring him.

With the two of them holding him so close, with such care in their hearts, Loqi hadn’t felt as loved as he did since the death of his mother. He knew it’d been the right decision to visit Altissia again after all, for the city held the most sentimental of his memories and the people that once meant the most in the world to him. Even without his mother there, he no longer felt alone. He knew it was fate that’d brought him back to Emilia and her mother, and with a little luck, he hoped he’d be able to stay.

#FFXV #Loqi #Loqi Tummelt

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organicli · 7 years

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Day 63, Langkawi to Koh Lipe

After my third night on the worst bed in the world, I went out to do some errands but all the shops were shut at 10am. I got some breakfast from a street food stall which was more of a dinner since it was mainly rice and chicken but it had a fried egg too so that was kind of breakfasty. I saw Dj and his friend and we high fived goodbye.

Maria and I went back into town on her bike to look for the things we needed again. I managed to get speakers and toothpaste but no stamps. The procession of bikes from yesterday came roaring past again. It went on for so long, dozens of bikes growling past. I love women in hijabs on motor bikes. You go girl!!!

I hugged Shane goodbye and gave him a peck under the ear. Maria said she liked my music! I’ve been playing it out loud and I don’t usually like the pressure of choosing something for everyone to listen to but it seems to have been received very well!

We got a cab to the pier and sorted out our tickets. In the food court in had something from the Arabic stand. I didn’t realise how much I like middle eastern food.

I hugged Maria goodbye now and told her it was lovely to have met her, that I don’t spend much time with other girls. (Especially strong girls) I think spending time with her was really good for me.

I ventured off alone, with that ‘I’m on my own now’ feeling and got the ferry. I slept most of the way without meaning to, listening to Sampha’s album. When I woke up, the boat was extremely choppy, rocking side to side and I felt queazy. I’d expected it to be freezing like the other ferry but it was really hot.

I stepped off onto the little boat to take us to shore. Koh Lipe looked very pleasant. We went to shore and had to climb out into the water and carry our bags to land. I felt like I was arriving on a castaway show, except that I knew my stay would be very nice and not awful or publicly broadcast.

A young Asian man from the ferry started speaking to me. I thought he was cute. He said his name was Tri and he was from Laos but he was working on Koh Lipe at the dive school and at some bungalows on the beach. He also said he’d grown up in France. I thought that was interesting 😌😏 you know my affinity with anything French. He said he’d lived in England as well and his English was very good. I told him what India was like.

After I went through the quick and relaxed immigration procedure, he took me to the dive school to drop my big backpack off because I said I’d look at the bungalows down the other end of the beach. The beach is lovely and the sand is white. There were lots of dogs around as well. The bungalows were basic and made of bamboo with mosquito nets making canopies over the thick mattresses. There was a hammock on the porch. He was staying in one of them. I said I was interested.

He walked me back to check into my hostel. Koh Lipe is very small and there are no cars. The main road is a strip of blue concrete about two metres wide. He pointed good restaurants out to me as we went along.

I checked into my room and they told me I had to keep both the nights I’d booked or I’d be charged for them so maybe I’ll spend another night or two in the bungalows afterwards. The ferries between the islands seem quite expensive and, well, I want to spend some time with Tri. The 10 bed female dorm I’m in has a narrow walkway past the beds, which do look comfy, and lockers on the other side but it’s a pain to lug my backpack up and down into mine. I’m looking forward to a bungalow.

I met Tri again in 7eleven and then we went to get some smoothies. I liked this boy and I didn’t want to lie to him. After the confidence I got from telling the others in Langkawi my personal info, and seeing how much I liked being able to speak about it, I wanted to tell him as well.

First, we guessed each other’s ages. I thought he was in his late 20s because he looked very youthful but seemed to have had a lot of experience in the world. He said he was 33. (That’s okay with me) He said he thought I was old enough to be travelling alone. He guessed 22 or 23. He looked really surprised when I told him I was 19. I’m smiling as I’m writing this remembering his face during this conversation.

I told him my truth and he looked even more surprised. I didn’t detect any hints of rejection or disgust but he was definitely shocked. I don’t think his eyebrows came down till we parted. His face was so cute. He asked me some questions and I answered them and made sure to emphasise my reasons and how much I love it. I think people respect it for how I love it.

It’s just crazy for me to be telling people this, especially when I first meet them, when so recently it was something I was deeply ashamed of and thought no one must ever know. It feels wonderful to be authentic and to be accepted.

He said he had to get to work and perhaps I could come and find him if I wanted to get some dinner.

I went and got some bits from my room and headed to the beach although the sun was nearly set so it was getting cooler. I released I’d left my towel in Langkawi which is annoying because it was a good towel.

I read on the beach in a quiet bit and some dogs came over and I stroked them and I went in the water. The sky was nice and blue and lilac and I think there was a bride and groom on the beach having a photo shoot.

Afterwards, I bought some bug spray. I get so many bites, it’s not okay. I think I have about 60 right now. Why doesn’t anyone else get loads? I hope I don’t have a skin infection from those crusty cats at the rescue centre.

I hung out at the hostel in my pod for a bit. I decided I’d get dinner alone because I was sure I’d see Tri some time tomorrow. I wandered down and bought a pad thai from a local restaurant. I put the crushed peanuts on it and lime and chilli flakes and it was really really good.

There was a chubby little toddler with pig tails, belonging to the restaurant’s family, being mischievous and she was adorable.

I had an idea to check out this pool party that was going on. I was doubtful that I would actually go but I entertained the idea nonetheless. It did look pretty shit so I didn’t go. I walked along the beach instead towards Tree’s bungalows, hoping that he might see me and come and talk to me.

I walked along and I nearly got to where he was staying but I got too shy to go further so I turned around.

As I was walking back, a thai man with messy, long, curly hair, green silk trousers and a rainbow shawl tied around him introduced himself to me. He had two friends. They invited me to a bar on the beach and I agreed. Joey, Tak and Bang.

The bar had fake tissue jellyfish hanging outside and bean bags on the sand. Inside was a man, with one of those big rasta hats on with all his hair inside, playing guitar and another man on trombone. The floor was sand and most of the bar was made of wood or bamboo and there was a mural of Jimi Hendrix behind the stage and a tapestry of a weed leaf. I decided I would have a drink. Just one! We sat down and listened to the music; I’m weak for brass. Before long, I was being handed zoots by the dreadlocked bohemian characters of the bar. The guy in the hat finished his set and came over with a hella fat doob hanging out his mouth to greet his friends.

I said, “isn’t it really serious to have this in Thailand?” to Tak next to me. He said there weren’t any police on the island and the owner of the bar blazed as well.

Almost everyone there was Thai and they spoke in Thai a lot of the time, although one man did a lot of actions to his words. There was one white guy sat at the bar and I swear he was just staring at me for ages. I said this to my rainbow friend, Joey, and he said it was just because I was beautiful and I was like 🤔🤔 but dude cmon stop. I thought maybe he was just looking out for me, being a young female tourist in a bar full of foreign men.

I ended up having two beers and a third one was bought for me but I hadn’t seen where it had come from so I thought I’d better not drink it because I was wary of being spiked. Tak had been stroking my arm a bit but I was like, “dude no,” and I think that communicated my point effectively. As soon as I finished my second drink I announced that I was going to go home now. They said “why?” I said, “well, it’s my bed time you see.”

Joey offered to walk me back. I said, “no, you’re gonna stay here and I’m gonna go home.” But he came with me to the front of the bar still and I said maybe we might see each other again (probably not) but he’s leaving the island for two days tomorrow.

I started walking back. I felt that I had been relatively assertive there and I was pleased. I had a good time and now I’m going home, without any trouble. I noticed there was someone walking behind me about 30 ft away. I looked around and wondered if it was someone following me. “Probably not” i told myself. I looked around again. They were closer so I sped up. “Is that that white guy?” I thought. “Shit, maybe he was following me.” He’d caught up now (there were much more people around in this area, fortunately) and I stopped to look out at the sea to see if he’d walk past.

“Hello,” i heard. Oh great, I’ve been followed.

“Hi,” i said, turning around to him.

“I saw you in the bar,” oh did you? I didn’t notice you staring at me for the whole night. He asked me if I was going to the beach party. I said no. He said he wanted to hang out tomorrow. I said I was just going to read on the beach on my own. I quickly brought the conversation to an end and didn’t say goodbye when I walked off. I don’t like him. He has creepy vibes and I hope to spend as little time with him as I’m able to. (Wish me luck)

The walking street on the island is bright and friendly in the day time although it’s quite dark at night, with most shops shut and no street lights. I kept an eye out for anyone following me. I really like it here. I feel content but I also think you definitely need to watch yourself.

“Wuhay!! We’re in bed and we’re still alive!! Again! Well done” I congratulated myself, climbing into my pod.

I like how small this place is except it’s really going to make avoiding people problematic. I thought about how I’d probably have to go to the beach in some sort of disguise tomorrow so that I wouldn’t be disturbed. I decided to go to a different beach on the island tomorrow.

#travels

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