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#it's about the fact that everything my food my clothes my devices my furniture
existennialmemes · 5 months
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No I am not an atheist. No I do not worship any gods
I worship Silliness. Frivolity. Nonsense.
I worship that feeling deep in your chest when you're struggling to catch your breath because you physically cannot stop laughing
I worship Fun. Joy. Pure, unadulterated human expressions of Happiness.
So I must worship Nature. The sunlight, the air, the soil, the water, the plants, the animals, the creatures who are neither.
Because I cannot laugh if I cannot breathe.
If I have not eaten. If my water is not safe.
So I must worship my Community.
The hands that plant the seeds that grow into the fruit that I eat, as I bask in the sunlight. The Little Universes who pluck the berries from the vine, package them, travel with them
I cannot worship the bright taste of strawberries on my tongue, if I have forsaken the souls who brought them
When you cannot laugh. Or Eat. Or Breathe. When your days are numbered.
So are mine. Because we are intertwined. If I do not fight for you, I have forsaken the Divine.
No, I am not an atheist. No I do not worship any gods. I don't think that's the “righteous” thing to do. I am a hedonist
I Worship Me and You
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actualbird · 1 year
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im beginning to doubt if luke packed like, an adequate amount of clothes in his luggage for this villa auction trip. because would he even have space for that given all the inVESTIGATION TOOLS HE BROUGHT ALONG WITH HIM?????
1 ) substance analyzer
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(sidenote: how DID vyn know about this device??? what chemical testing adventures did luke and vyn get up to offscreen?????)
2 ) fingerprint testing kit
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(sidenote: my buddy beckthebeetle said "how on earth did luke get a match for the prints if he cant connect to the internet???" which is such a good point and also so funny that i will be returning to it)
3 ) sAFE CRACKING TOOLS????
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(sidenote: luke can crack safes. if he werent a government employee, he'd make SUCH a good master thief)
i know all these things are described as small, as they all somehow fit in a small bag he must have on-hand with him at all times (i cant believe luke pearce has the Bag Of Holding), but their size isnt my concern here. it's the fact that he Brought all of them. while they are all under the general category of Tools That Could Be Useful On An Investigation, their purposes and uses are wildly different, so it's simply a testament to how luke is bonkers (i say this oh so affectionately) and packing just anything and everything he thinks could POSSIBLY be useful later on. lest we all forget, he brought his resin kit to khaimit back in SOTT. so i wouldnt be surprised if he had a block of C4 tucked away in his luggage. just in case.
PLUS, luke brought peanut (arguably also an investigation tool but thats just a bonus, this bird is primarily an emotional support tool and also BirdSon) with him so he mustve brought peanut's food and treats because no matter how much he complains about peanut's chunkiness, he spoils that bird like nothing else. so i posit that his luggage is 40% tools + 40% peanut things + and 20% luke's actual day-to-day stuff that he brought along
and thus
luke: okay i need to ask a favor but none of you can tell mc, okay? does anyone have extra socks i can borrow?
artem, marius, vyn, taken aback because they thought with all the secrecy that it had something to do with luke's mysterious "vitamins" that he takes at HQ sometimes: socks???
luke: yeah, socks
artem: why?
luke: im out of socks
artem, who finds the concept of being underprepared to be unthinkable: youre out of socks? how??
vyn: i took you as somebody who was prepared for everything
marius: yeah, you brought safe cracking tools but you didnt bring socks?
luke: i brought...way more than just the safe cracking tools. which is probably why...i forgot to pack more socks
artem: how on earth were safe cracking tools higher on your list of priorities than socks?
vyn: in a similar vein, how was your chemical analyzer higher on that list of priorities too
luke: i know i know! but can we stop dissing on my lack of socks and start helping out with a collaborative solution to my lack of socks?
marius: and the fingerprint kit!!!---
luke: guys plEASE
marius: ---actually, wait a second. how did you get a match for sam zheng's fingerprint? theres no internet, you couldnt have connected to any databases to run that print through
luke: SOCKS. ANYBODY?
artem: no no, i was curious about that too, how did that work?
vyn: see this piece of information as your payment for the socks. quid pro quo
luke: you dont need the internet to create a new database of collected prints! okay, socks now, please? help?
artem: wait, no no. did you say 'create' a new database
vyn: and 'collected'
luke: ...............OKAY, LISTEN....
marius: oh my GOD? dude, did you fucking get everybody's prints at the villa???
luke: there was NOTHING TO DO for a few days and i was getting BORED doing NOTHING so might as well just lift everybody's prints from cutlery and furniture for future reference than do NOTHING but be alone with the fact im lacking SOCKS. SO CAN ANYBODY LEND ME SOME SOCKS ;-;
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noladyme · 4 years
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Chess. Chapter 3
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Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.
 TW: sexual harassment/assault, torture, sexual themes
I don’t know how many days passed. In the dark, days and nights flowed together; making it difficult to keep up a daily rhythm that made sense.
I lived from meal to meal. Not that I ate much of what they sent in, which was usually more of those little pellets in water; and every third meal, being something cold and mushy, that smelt conspicuously like canned cat food. It took me about 6 “meals”, to finally accept that this is what it actually was. With the canned food I’d get a thin slice of stale toast. This – along with a plastic cup of water – was all I consumed for a long time.
Every once in a while, I’d hear Griggs voice through the speaker, reminding me he was still there. He’d tell me to get ready; meaning I had to face the wall opposite the door, hands and legs spread. They’d come in then, the guards, usually fronted by the man himself, and flip over the mattress, pretending to search my cell for contraband.
That’s when he’d stand behind me, pressing himself against my back. His hands would wander, patting me down everywhere, even the parts of my body not covered by clothing. After a final squeeze of my asscheek; he’d turn around and proclaim; “She’s clean”. They’d back out the door, shut it, and it would be dark again.
During one of these visits, I’d had enough, and as Griggs hand wandered towards my groin area, I quickly grabbed his hand, twisting his fingers until I heard a crack.
“Bitch!”, Griggs screeched, elbowed me in the side; and as I feel to the floor, I suddenly had three guards on me, kicking me on my sore hip, and on my ribs. One of the kicks pushed the air out of me, and as I desperately tried to regain control of my breathing, they backed out the door, leaving me there alone.
Maybe 10 minutes later, the speaker howled in the darkness.
“That was not very nice, puss”, Griggs said. “You know, I’ve tried to play nice with you; even breaking the budget on those canned foods you’ve been getting. No more. It’s time you settle in for the long haul”.
Music played, at first at a low volume; but then increasing, until it felt like my head was going to explode from the sound. It would stay like that for about 30 seconds, before being lowered again. It continued like this; music turning up and down, with the highest volume being so intense, no amount of covering my ears seemed to help. My heart beat fiercely, and I could even feel the veins of my fingers pounding. I curled up in a seated position.
After what seemed like forever, the music stopped. I exhaled, and removed my hands from my ears; my biceps stinging from how long and forcefully I had been covering them. I laid down, ears ringing; and I could hear the blood pumping through my body. My ribs and my hip were pulsating in pain.
I closed my eyes, and my body began to give in to sleep.
The music started again. Same pattern as before. I screamed, but at the height of the music, I couldn’t even hear my own voice. That’s when I passed out.
---
“Chess”, a familiar voice called. “Y/N!”. I came too, slowly.
“No more”; I whispered into the darkness; lips and tongue dry.
“Cover your eyes. I’m turning on the lights”. I recognized the voice then. Flag. With great effort, I covered my face with my arm, curling up into a fetal position. I heard the sound of the fluorescent lights flickering on. Then footsteps and keys rattling outside the door.
“Three goddamn days? She’s been out for three days?!”, Flags voice boomed on the other side of the door. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”.
The door opened, and through the crack of my bended arm, I saw boots walking towards me.
“We thought she was faking it, sir”, Griggs answered Flag.
I felt a hand on my waist, and winced in pain.
“What the hell did you do to her?”, Flag growled.
“She attacked me, sir. My men might have gone a bit overboard”, Griggs retorted.
I blinked, the light still too sharp for my eyes. Flag took a hold of my arm, pulling it away from my face. My eyes hurt, but I looked up at him. His expression was pained.
Putting an arm around my waist, he pulled me up into a seated position. I looked down at my body. I was filthy, covered in dust; and my arms and legs looked skinnier than the last time I’d seen them.
“Can you stand?”, Flag quietly asked me. His eyes were worried.
I tried to get onto my knees, but was too dizzy; and fell back onto my butt. Flag got behind me, and carefully slipped his arms through mine; lifting me onto my feet.
I was weak, and tried to take a wobbly step forward, falling back into his arms. He lifted my arm, and put it around his neck, dragging me with him.
“Help me out, Edwards”, Flag said, and a man with a stubbled face, standing a few inches shorter than Flag, took my other arm around his own neck. Half walking, half carrying me out of the cell, we passed Griggs, who was standing outside. I saw that his hand was in a cast of some kind; and smiled at the fact that I’d made my mark.
They walked me down a dimly lit corridor. Was I in a basement? The doors we passed were all closed, and I wondered if there were other prisoners behind them.
At the end of the hall were stairs, and the two soldiers dragged me up them, until we came to a new corridor, cleaner and brighter than the one we had come from. They took me to a room, sparsely furnitured with a metal table, and two chairs on either side of it. A clock over the door told me it was 3 o’clock.  Am or pm, I didn’t know. Interrogation, I told myself, and the men seated me in a chair, handcuffing me to the table.
On one wall was large mirror, which I knew would be a two way.
I looked at myself in the mirror. The person staring back at me was someone I didn’t know. Her face was gaunt, eyes dark; and she was black and blue on one side of her torso. Well hello, gorgeous, I laughed at myself.
“Something funny?”, Flag asked me, on his way out the door.
“Just that stick up your ass”, I answered, and smiled as brightly as I could.
He closed the door behind him.
One hand free, I ran my fingers through my hair; matted from my ordeal.
I waited for about 30 minutes. Something smelled rancid, and I realized it was me. I hadn’t bathed for who knew how long; but it would obviously have to wait.
The door opened again, and in stepped the woman from the van, followed by Flag, who was looking everywhere but at me. The woman sat down, and pulled out a paper file folder.
“My name is Amanda Waller”, she said.
“I know who you are”, I said, and leant back in the chair, trying for casual. “I also know you’re here to make me an offer I can’t refuse. Literally. You’ll kill me if I do”.
Waller smirked. “I won’t, but the guards at this place might. Apparently, you broke the captains favorite jerking hand”.
“So you’ve been listening in”.
“We have. And though I am not happy with the way things have turned out, it seems all of this was necessary to keep you in line”, Waller retorted. “Let me get down to the point. Me and the colonel here, lead a group of people with special skills. For some reason you know this already; so you probably also know that each of these individuals are people, who most of the good people of The United States would rather see behind bars, or even executed”. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Before I continue, please humor me; how did you know of us?”.
“I knew about you. I didn’t know about Mr. Tall, Lean and Grumpy here”, I said, and nodded my head in Flags direction. His expression remained calm, but his lips twitched once; revealing that my answer had made an effect.
“Hear that, Flag? Your cover remains unblown. Good for you”. Her cold eyes remained on me. “Now answer the question, Y/N”.
“There are whispers. About a cold bitch who is tracking people like me; to use our… special skills”, I repeated her own words.
“But there really is no one like you, is there, Chess?”. She stood up, and opened the folder. “Y/N Y/L/N. A.k.a. Chess. Short for Cheshire?”.
“Nah, that name was taken”, I smirked.
“Right. You don’t strike me as someone with martial arts skills and venomous nails”, she said, looking down at my chipped black polish.
“I can scrap with the best of them, if necessary”.
“I’m counting on it”. She continued. “B minus high school student, until you had a run in with Jervis Tetch, a.k.a. The Mad Hatter. Experimenting with a device he hoped would render himself invisible, he tested it out on one of his kidnapping victims. You”.
I winced. The memory of that event was something I’d rather have been left alone.
“It backfired. Without going in to the scientific details, it made you able to become invisible at will, without using the aforementioned device. He decided to use you for his own criminal activity, and for a few years, you worked for him as a cat burglar and spy. During one of his stints in Arkham Asylum, you decided to become an independent contractor”.
I sat up straight, daring her to continue. She sat back down.
“Burglary. Car theft. Stealing official documents from the FBI – impressive!”, she smiled. “Kidnapping of a senators daughter. Possession of an illegal drug substance?”.
“Actually those last ones were a two for one”, I laughed. “And it wasn’t so much a kidnapping as great weekend in Vegas. She was fully in to it. We almost got married”. The clerk at the chapel had refused to go through with the ceremony, because he was worried, we were under the influence of drugs. It might have been the smell of the half smoked blunt in my pocket that gave us away. “Stephanie? Tiffany? I can’t remember her name”.
“Melissa”, Flag said from behind Waller.
“Right. Melissa!”, I smirked. “You could bounce a nickel of her ass. Was she an ex of yours?”, I smiled at him. He scoffed.
Waller continued. “You’ve avoided arrest on most of your charges; I suppose, due to your condition”.
“My ability to smile”, I said.
“Yes, that’s right. Before you become invisible, you purr and smile. Is there a reason for this?”, she goaded me on. I knew it didn’t make any sense to be secretive, so I decided to be up front with her.
“I don’t know. That’s just how it is. When I need to disappear, my body vibrates, which sounds like a purr. The smile is what sends signals to my brain, to bend light around my body, or an object I’m touching; which then becomes invisible. Serotonin, dopamine… whatever. It works”. I sighed. “Where are we going with this?”.
“Task Force X, under the day to day leadership of Colonel Flag, has an opening. I want you to fill that spot”.
“Why?”, I asked, genuinely wondering.
“Because making things and people disappear is handy, in some of the missions the Force may have coming up”.
“But what is in it for me?”
“10 years of your sentence, per mission”, Waller replied, and closed the file.
“What sentence? I haven’t done anything in a long time”, I said, voice shaking lightly.
“16 months ago, judge Jeremiah Kelper disappeared for a week, before an anonymous tip led the police to him, bound, bloody and gagged, in a warehouse on Gotham Harbor”. Waller folded her hands in front of her, and met my eyes again. “When he woke up at the hospital, he was ranting about a “ghost” that had drugged him, dragged him to the warehouse; and held him for days, tied to a chair. The “ghost” had beat him several times with a pipe, and… well, let’s not get further in to that”.
I couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds like someone had it in for him”.
“Sounds like”, Waller half whispered. “I also know that Kelpers records are much cleaner than he is. But then there’s the money”.
“What money”, I asked, looking first at Waller, then up at Flag, who smirked at me.
“1 million dollars, cash, disappeared from a safe at Wayne Tower, two months ago. What did you spend it on?”, he asked.
Shit, they got me, I thought. “I donated it”.
“Some of it”; Waller said, and reopened the file. “987.000 dollars were donated anonymously to a local shelter for battered women, two days later”.
I leant forward; and Flag quickly took a step towards the table, putting his arm in front of Waller.
“Calm down, soldier”, I said. “From what I hear, The Wayne Foundation matched my donation to the same shelter, not long after”.
“You’re right”, Waller said. “It seems to me, you want to be one of the good guys”. I smirked again. “But you’re not. You’re a villain, Y/N – one of the bad guys. But you can make that badness have a purpose”.
I leant back again, and Flag relaxed, stepping back. He folded his arms – those arms – and leant against the wall, toying with the id-card attached to his t-shirt sleeve.
“Show me what you can do”, Waller demanded.
“I can’t”, I said, looking back at Wallers now surprised face. “I need energy to smile, and for the last – what – month or so, I’ve been living on stale toast and kibble”, I admitted.
“Flag”, Waller said, and the soldier took a candy bar from his pants pocket, and placed it in front of me. With my free hand shaking, I opened the wrapper, and put it to my lips. Taking a bite of the heavenly chocolate, feeling the wonderful sensation of sugar rushing through my system; I moaned.
“Mhmm”. Flag stepped back to wall again, looking uncomfortable at my sounds. I couldn’t help myself. “Got anything else in those pants for me?”, I purred; and as he quickly looked away from my face, I smiled.
Touching the table with my free hand, it went away in a mist, making the file folder look as if it was floating in midair.  Wallers eyes went wide. I kicked of one slipper, touching the floor with my bare foot, and suddenly, the floor was gone, leaving the three of us as if standing on clear glass.
Looking down, I saw a cell, no bigger than my own had been, though better furnished; with a cot, a toilet, a couple of nudie posters, and a tiny table. In the middle of the room stood a rugged looking man, clutching a toy unicorn in his arms. He looked up, eyes large; before looking towards Waller. He smiled widely, gold tooth gleaming, and though I couldn’t hear what he was saying, it was clear it was along the lines of “I see London, I see France, I see Wallers underpants”. Waller crossed her legs quickly, and looked at me, with a mix of horror and excitement plastered on her face.
“Enough!”, she shouted.
That’s when I made myself disappear before their eyes.
Flag and Waller looked around the room trying to find me, before Flag ran across the invisible floor, towards the chair, grabbing for what I guess he thought would be my shoulder, but ended up being my right breast. Confused at the softness, his brow furrowed.
My energy gave out. The floor, the table, and lastly my body, reappeared. Realizing where his hand was, Flag jumped back, looking at his hand, face reddening. “Thanks for that”, I smiled at him flirtatiously. He turned his back to me and clenched his guilty hand into a fist.
“I think I’ve seen everything I need to”, Waller said, standing back up again, picking up the folder. “Training starts tomorrow. Once the colonel has calmed down a bit, he’ll make sure you get a proper meal”. She went for the door.
“Waller!”, I stopped her dead in her tracks. “Tell me, did Kelpers balls ever pop back down?”.
She smiled crookedly at me. “I hear he’s going to need some reconstructive surgery”.
She walked out the door, leaving me with Flag.
Flag unlocked the cuffs, and pulled me up. “Think you’ll be able to walk yourself this time?”.
I leant towards him, putting my hands on his chest. Fuck, you’re firm, I thought.
“I might need a little help. Feel free to grab a hold of me anywhere”, I beamed at him.
Flag roughly put my arms behind my back, and cuffed them together. “Let’s go, kitten”, he scoffed, and pushed me in front of him, out of the door. My friends The Tweedles were waiting outside. “Get her back to her cell. Make sure the lights are on until 2200 hours. And get her a proper meal”.
As Tweedle Dee and Dum supported my still weak body walking down the hall, I looked back at Flag.
“You like me”, I flirted, and his face reddened again, before he turned around, and walked in the opposite direction.
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windup-dragoon · 4 years
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So not exactly the AU you had mentioned @astralyehga​ as I had intended. But the end result I’m still happy with. Originally it was going to be Hien helps Kiri get a date with Aymeric, but in doing so and boosting her confidence, Hien realizes he has feelings for her. BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED. It kind of just wrote itself tbh. And at one point I was still going to go with that original idea, but then I thought I would have to write a second half and I thought the likelihood of me actually finishing it was pretty slim so. This is here instead. uwu THANK YOU FOR THE AU IDEA THOUGH I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I even watched a rom com just to get in the writing mood. lmao. I watched the ugly truth bc it used to be one of my favorites. 
【Modern Lovers】
Hien x Kirishimi 
Word Count: 2,291
“To what do I owe this pleasure tonight, friend? Hard day at work?” 
The gym was always vacant at this time of night. When the street lights illuminated the city and traffic was nonexistent. The clock read well past midnight, marching ever forward in tandem with her weights lifting and falling from the bench. 
Mismatched eyes peeked out from beneath thick lashes at the owner of the voice who now kept her company. Hien, the owner and her personal trainer, grinned down at her. Her hold of the equipment slipped, the weights clattering back into place just behind her head. Kirishimi grimaced but sat upright from the bench. 
“You could say that.” Her hand raked through snow white hair as a sigh heaved itself from her lips. 
Hien crossed his arms with a quirked brow. “Didn’t you say you were meeting up with your friends tonight? Or was that next Friday?” 
Kirishimi didn’t respond. Instead the woman pitched herself forward, head in her hands. 
“Ah. Still sore. Got it.” 
This wasn’t the first time Kirishimi had been left to her own devices on a Friday, or even Saturday night. She often worked late, finishing paperwork that everyone else left abandoned until the next business day. Most times her plans would reschedule, only to never be realized. All of her friends, no matter how dear they were, had lives of their own. Each had a significant other to keep them company and enjoy the evening with. So when her own plans fell through? They were there to pick up the pieces and make the night spectacular with or without Kirishimi’s presence. 
Tonight had just been another defeated Friday night to Kirishimi. 
Hien, her trainer now for more than a few years, had known the story all too well. In her disheartened state, she wound up here at his gym, practicing her kick boxing or lifting weights. It was almost routine these days. But, in some small comfort, there were worse places she could have drifted to besides his gym. 
He sat on the bench beside her and draped a white cloth over her head. “How ‘bout a nice hot shower and I’ll get some sake? I’ve got left overs from dinner, if you’re hungry.” 
The offered towel was promptly used to scrub her face. “Sure.” 
-- 
How many times had she ended up in this very room? A small studio apartment over the gym that always smelled of honey and apples. From the kitchen, to the living room, all the way to the back where sliding doors led into Hien’s bedroom, all of it could be seen from the moment one walked in. The host himself stationed himself at his makeshift mini bar beside the glass doors leading to a tiny, unused balcony. The lighting of his apartment was dim, as usual, nothing but strings of fairy lights that she had helped him string up from corner to corner some months ago. 
He prepared a small tray for Kirishimi while she showered, sake for them to share and black styrofoam to-go boxes he had ordered earlier that evening. Surely he would have loved to cook dinner himself for the woman, but you burn one pizza and you’re immediately branded a poor chef forever after. With fire alarms howling into the night and a pillar of smoke being waved out the balcony doors, she had sworn off his cooking from then on. 
It was one of his favorite memories. 
Not long after Hien settled himself onto the only piece of furniture in his living room, a couch no less, Kirishimi elbowed the door open and padded barefoot into the apartment. Furiously she scrubbed her white hair with a clean towel, water still dripping down the front of her borrowed t-shirt and soaking the collar. In her urgency to leave the vast loneliness of her own apartment she had forgotten her freshly washed t-shirt, having little choice but to bum one from Hien instead. 
“Sorry ‘bout this. I’ll get it dry cleaned if you want.” Kiri spoke in between ruffling her hair like wet feathers and combing her fingers through the locks. 
Hien dismissed her with a smile. “Nonsense! It’s only a t-shirt. I have a million others, if you must know.” He teased. It wasn’t the first time he had lent one to her and he somehow doubted it would be the last. “Come sit and eat. Knowing you, you haven’t had a bite all day.” 
“Not true.” Kirishimi protested, plopping down in the seat beside him. The couch sunk a bit beneath their weight, forcing their shoulders together. “I had a doughnut at work.” 
He whistled. “Wow. A whole doughnut. Well, I won’t deny the nutritional value of a doughnut. Sprinkles?” 
“Yes. Brightly colored. Pink, maybe?” 
“Ah. Then certainly you don’t need chicken alfredo-” Hien leaned forward, about to grab her box when she uttered a small squeak in defiance. 
“Hold it right there, criminal scum! You really think I’d turn down alfredo?” 
Grinning, Hien shrugged. “I knew that’d get you.” He slid the box across the coffee table, handing her a fork and a poured drink as well. “Now,” He leaned back against the couch with arms behind his head. “You wanna talk about today?” 
“Not really.” Kiri sunk to the floor between the couch and table. Hien was quick to steal her towel and wedge it between the back of her head and the cushions of his only usable furniture. If she needed to spend the night, at least her bed wouldn’t be soaking wet from her hair thanks to his effort. 
“Kiri,” He drew out her name, an almost commanding tone. “You can’t bottle it up forever. The last time you tried you drank my bar dry and nearly puked on a couple passing by.” 
Silver brows drew together while miscolored eyes burned. “I won’t miss this time.” 
“Kirishimi!” Hien exhaled. “I’m being serious. Humor me?” 
The young woman, blowing out a sigh that lifted her hair from her cheeks, knocked back one cup full of sake. “Fine,” Reluctance filled her voice. “If you insist. 
“Bein’ that it’s Friday, everyone wanted out of the office early. But instead of working together to get it all done, people just up and left after lunch. I had to stay behind, again, to make sure everything got filed correctly and all. That new secretary was nice enough to at least announce she was leaving...” Kiri paused in her story, staring vacantly at the mess of noodles lumped together in the container before her. 
“She mentioned a big party downtown and that I should invite my friends to go out. We’d all have drinks and just chill after a long week. I don’t really like the idea of parties but I did wanna see the gang. Been pullin’ such long nights at work, I haven’t seen any of ‘em for a while. So after lockin’ up the office, I texted everyone. Shuri, Illya, Laurelis. But-” 
“They’re busy?” Hien finished when Kirishimi failed to continue. 
“Yeah...” Kirishimi shook her head and finally dipped her fork into her food. The noodles slithered round and round the utensil but she had no intention of eating just yet. “It’s fine! I mean, they’ve all got their own stuff goin’ on. They wanna spend time with their guys and live their lives. I’ll catch up with ‘em another day, yea? Just sucks bein’ alone...ya’know?”
“Mhm.” All the time he had known Kirishimi, since the day she waltzed into his gym and signed herself up, he had never known her to be obsessed with the idea of a boyfriend. Yet here she was, trying to deny the fact that it bothered her. From time to time the guys of the gym would flirt with her, ask her on dates and say pretty things to her, but they were never right for Kirishimi. Some would later admit to being intimidated by such an athletic woman while others just assumed she had money to spare. 
While she fought with her dinner, Hien spared a glance at his phone. A chat message he had started earlier that week filled the screen. 
Illya:: Have you asked her yet? 
Laurelis:: Hello!!! It’s getting late! Tell us something!! 
Shuri:: You had better not have chickened out! 
He couldn’t deny the guilt welling in his gut. Instead of asking Kirishimi to meet him at the gym, he had begged her friends to help him in his endeavors to reach her. They were kind enough to oblige but seeing the slump in Kiri’s shoulders made him regret that decision. The girls weren’t to blame. Though he doubted Kirishimi could ever be truly mad at them. They were like family to her; sisters to the bitter end. 
“Have you considered finding yourself a boyfriend?” Hien forced the words out of his mouth before he could second guess himself. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees now, taking a sip of his own sake. 
Kiri’s fork stopped spinning for a heartbeat. Eventually she snorted and arched a brow at him. “Yeah. It’s real easy, isn’t it? Lemme just go ask some rando’s if they wanna date me.” She huffed before taking a bite. 
“Please, do not ask random guys to date you.” He pleaded with a light smile. 
“Sorry, but I’m afraid that’s my only option. Or die alone, I guess. My cursed bloodline ends with me.” Kiri teased, dramatically quoting a line from a movie the two had but recently watched. 
“C’mon! You’re just being pessimistic. Surely there’s other guys in your life?” Hien leaned a little closer, desperate to catch a glimpse of her features while she nibbled at her food. 
“The guys at work are scared of me. Especially when I wear heels.” 
“You do that on purpose.” 
“I like feeling superior! They treat me like dirt anyway. Bunch o’ assholes.” 
“Anyone else?” 
“Nope.” 
“...What about me?” 
“What about-” Kiri turned toward Hien, a questioning look dancing in her eyes. But her words fell short when she noticed him. His green eyes watching her, holding her gaze. 
The sound of soft rain pelting the window soon filled the silence of the apartment. It was a romantic ambiance. A window in the kitchen, left open, let in the sweet scent of an approaching storm and the musky aroma of falling rain. 
Her heart jumped into her throat as they shared in the quiet moment. All the discussions she ever had with the girls about this very topic came rushing to mind as she searched for words to say in response. Many times she had lamented to the others about her feelings for Hien, always under the impression that he had eyes only for the cute girls who frequented his gym. The girls in tight outfits who giggled and winked at Hien when he taught them how to use specific equipment. She had always wanted to be like them, so flirtatious when asking for his number so they could keep in touch. Several times before she had assumed he had even dated one or two of them, fleeting as they were. 
Illya, Shuri, Laurelis, and even their significant others had demanded that she at least talk to Hien about it. To open her heart to see what transpired. But fear had kept her back. If he turned her down or realized her feelings, would he ask her to leave the gym? Who then would she turn to when she was alone at night, wanting anyone's voice but her own to fill the silence. Who would she spend her off days with watching movies or keep him from burning his own building down? It was the fear of being alone that chained her. 
But now... 
“Hien... You are... definitely a guy in my life.” Kirishimi managed to mutter, her cheeks burning with heat. 
“Took you that long to notice?” Hien teased. 
“Shuddup!” She huffed before crawling up onto the couch beside him once more. “You know what I meant. I didn’t think you thought of me like that...” 
Hien turned so his back was toward the armrest, his body fully facing her. “It’d be an awful lie to say I didn’t think about you every day. Some nights I wait downstairs... Just to see if you stop by.” 
“You could have texted me! You could have... said something...” 
“I was afraid I’d lose you. I wanted to make sure you felt the same. Your friends gave me one hell of an earful when I spoke to them.” Hien frowned at the memory. Three women demanding he be honest. Although quiet and polite, the trio had honestly frightened him. But if it hadn’t been for them, he may have never found out. His question left unanswered. 
“Hien...” Kiri, chewing a moment on her bottom lip, closed her eyes and reached for his hand with both of hers. “Hien, ya’ idiot! Of course I like you! I get stupid butterflies in my stomach when I see you. Gods know I look like a blushin’ idiot when you parade around the gym without yer shirt on. Or the fact that you’ve been my personal trainer for over a year when I don’t even need one-” 
“At least I don’t charge you for that.” Hien interrupted, a blossoming grin plastering his face. “Kirishimi, I’m sorry I’m not a rando off the street like you envisioned, but will you go out with me?” 
Snowy hair bounced wickedly as Kirishimi replied with an eager nod of her head. “Hells yes!” In unison they moved toward one another, Hien’s arms looping around her waist and drawing her onto his lap while her hands brought his face to hers, lips crashing in a heartbeat against the other. 
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shamera · 4 years
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I know it’s been awhile, but I’d like to offer a plot bunny for your thinking pleasure to the part of you that still loves FF13: Hope Estheim as Jojo Rabbit
I literally just watched the movie after I got this and the parallels are FANTASTIC I LOVE IT THANK YOU and there is at all times a large part of me that loves FFXIII and Hope is my number one baebhu. XD
Hope never considered himself the bravest child in his class, but he also never thought of himself a coward. Uninterested in what others deemed fascinating, maybe, smart enough to know when to run away, maybe... But when the noises started in his home and it was only him and his mom for the week since dad had to leave for a trip to Eden... 
Well. He first suspected ghosts. Then critters, maybe, although that was absurd in Felix Heights and he was outraged by his own theories because despite his mom’s interest in strangely grown foods, she was fastidious and he wasn’t raised to be an untidy child-- there was no way that any critters would survive in the steel walls of their home. Thus armed with a free afternoon, a flashlight, and a recording device in case they did have to call animal control because Hope wasn’t dumb enough to try and tackle this on his own when he knew next to nothing of what could be in his walls (if lucky, it was just incorrectly placed pipes), he made it a mission to investigate the noises around his home. 
What he didn’t expect, crouched down on all fours and frowning at lines near the wall like the scraping of furniture, was for the wall to open up and for a woman to dart out like lightning, fast and strong as she scooped him up in one fluid motion to bind his arms and cover his mouth before he could even think of shouting in alarm.
His little recorder fell to the ground with a clatter as his legs dangled.
“Fang!” A pitched, feminine voice protested as Hope tried to scream against the hand cupped firmly against his face. “Fang, stop!”
It wasn’t just one-- but two-- women who darted out from the darkness where the wall opened up, both dressed in strange clothing. He couldn’t see the one holding him tightly with one arm locked around his arms and torso and the other covering his mouth (and nose) smelling of dust and earth, but he could clearly see the other, who looked thin and young with wide green eyes and sallow skin as if she hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. 
“Don’t hurt him,” the girl said, arms up in a calming gesture, “let’s just let him go, okay?”
“Not now he’s seen us,” was the tone of an older woman behind him, the one holding him so tightly he could barely struggle enough to kick. The voice was strange, the accent was strange, and their very persons inspired a spike of fear in him that was more than the fact that they were strangers in his home, holding him hostage. “Shouldn’t have been rummaging around, this one. Everything would have been fine had you run along outside the house to play with your little friends.”
Hope could barely manage a choked off noise at a pitch he would have been embarrassed by any other day. They--!
“He’s just a kid,” the younger girl said mournfully. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Yeah? Well, kids grow up and then suddenly they’re the enemy between one day and the next. They’re all like that here.”
“Not everyone.” The girl said quietly, and they must have shared a look that Hope wasn’t privy to before after a very tense minute where Hope was sure that he was going to be killed via having his neck snapped by the steel arms trapping him, he was finally set back on his feet again. 
Only to collapse as his nerves refused to cooperate with him. 
The girl who spoke up for him knelt on the ground before him, smiling tentatively as Hope shook and tried to push himself away from her, only to hit the unforgiving wall. 
“Hey there,” she said gently, as if speaking to a scared animal, “you’re Hope, right? I’m Vanille. You don’t have to be scared.”
Enemy, the woman (Fang) said. 
“You’re from Pulse,” he blurted out, brain misfiring in his shock and fear. He could see the girl before him flinch slightly, but barely registered it as his mind raced with panic because how how how the war was supposed to be so far away! The latest information said that they suspected there were spies in Bodhum, but even that was distant to him and how could anyone have reached Palumpolum? 
Pulse was hell, the textbooks wrote. Filled with monsters and death, and the people who resided there beastly and gruesome in order to survive the world below them. Those from Pulse were raging war on Cocoon because they wanted the floating planet for themselves, because Cocoon was peace and oasis and protection, and they didn’t care that there were already people who lived there who wouldn’t be able to survive the brutal fires of Pulse. 
“Yeah, and what of it?” The voice above him challenged, and Hope jerked his head up to look at the woman looming over him, a deep frown above crossed arms. “You got a problem with that, kid?”
If he had proper survival instincts, Hope would have shook his head and gotten the hell out of dodge, but somehow a few wires must have gotten crossed because instead he snapped back from where he was still shaking on the ground, “You’re not allowed to be here! The Sanctum will find you!”
Because even if his dad wasn’t a Sanctum soldier, Bartholomew Estheim worked (peripherally) for the Sanctum, and he’s bound to find out about this situation, and Hope was really regretting the fact that he didn’t carry his boomerang on his person at all times because he was at home and his mom had laughed at him and pinched his cheeks when he mentioned how he should have a weapon at all times because of the war with Pulse-- she sunk her knuckles into his hair at the insinuation that she couldn’t protect her own son until Hope yelped and relented to only keep his pouch on him when he left the house. 
“Yeah?” In one quick movement that had Hope scrambling back until his knees were pulled to his chest in a futile effort to avoid the older woman because enemy enemy and threat as she grinned full of teeth, “guess what, then?”
“We’re allowed,” the younger-- Vanille-- interrupted, drawing Hope’s attention up to her even as he darted his eyes to her (too close!) companion, his heart racing a mile a minute. Vanille looked less threatening, and she was smiling apologetically at him. “Your mom let us in. So we’re not intruders.”
(”And why, pray tell,” Nora Estheim said with one arm over Hope’s shoulders as she tugged on his ear playfully and he made disgruntled noises and tried to lean away from her, “would you need a weapon at home? You know how I feel about this whole war, Hope. I don’t want any reminders at the dinner table, you hear me? None of your toys!”)
“And besides,” Vanille continued, leaning down slightly so that Hope was crowded by the both of them with no way to escape. She sounded a little regretful, adding before Hope could process the idea that his mom knew about this, knew that there were enemies hiding in the house and specifically told him not to carry anything that might help him fight back-- Vanille was pointing to her companion’s shoulder, and Hope followed her finger to see a seared white mess of lines on tanned skin. “We’re marked, you know.”
l’Cie. Whatever panic was running through his veins earlier was nothing to the blind terror behind his eyes now.
“You can’t tell on us,” the younger girl told him, and suddenly she was even scarier than Fang’s sharp smile. “If you do, then your Sanctum won’t just take us away, they’ll purge your whole family, too. Maybe your whole city. And that’s all your friends, isn’t it?”
Pulse, Hope thought through the thick haze of frenzied thoughts, was hell. Pulse l’Cie were even worse. 
Vanille was crouched in front of him now, looking demure and guileless as she rested her chin in her hands and attempted a strained smile. 
“So I’m afraid you’re gunna have to help hide us now too, Mr. Hope Estheim!”
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Text
Hand in Glove - Chapter 16 | Ben Hardy x OFC
A/N: Sorry for taking so long. Life is really happening, y’all. Anyways, hope you enjoy this one.
Word Count: ~3.8K (Most of which is just smut lol)
Warnings: Smut. Fluff. Swearing. Yeah.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3,  Chapter 4,  Chapter 5,  Chapter 6,  Chapter 7,  Chapter 8,  Chapter 9,  Chapter 10,  Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15
Annie pressed her fingers to her temples, rubbing languid circles. She knew this would happen at some point during the move, and she knew she’d be surrounded by loud people, manhandling her belongings. She poured herself a glass of water and took slow, tiny sips. Moving was hard enough, but moving with a pounding headache was torture.
“Oi!” one of the movers called out, “where do you want these?”
“Oh, uh…” Annie walked over and took a look at Ben’s scribbles on the sides of the boxes the man had piled up in his arms. “You know what? Just put all the boxes in there,” she pointed at the living room.
“As you wish, Your Majesty!” The mover’s voice lilted.
Annie’s phone rang and she rushed over to the kitchen island, fumbling with the screen to take the call.
“Couldn’t find the kind of Tim-Tams you’re craving anywhere.” Ben sounded frustrated and breathless. “Is there anything else you want, instead?”
“Well, I kind of want real food, now.” Annie pointed at the living room for the rest of the movers carrying boxes.
“Anything specific?”
“Cheeseburger.”
“So, chicken nuggets?”
“Crap. Chicken nuggets really do sound amazing right now.”
“I’ll just bring one of everything.” Ben chuckled and rushed out of the store and into his car. “Is everything alright over there?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Annie brushed off a bit of fluff from her top. “Just taking forever.”
“Are they done with the furniture?”
“Yep.” Annie popped her lips at the ‘p’. “Just moving the boxes and bags in, now.”
###
“Longest. Day. Ever.” Ben groaned into Annie’s neck. “I’m never ever moving again.”
Perched on his lap on their big, gray sofa, the two finally collapsed after finishing their move. Ben carried various boxes into various rooms, set up his drum kit and helped Annie put the dishes away in the kitchen and a fresh set of sheets on their bed. Their empty house was starting to look and feel a bit more like home, and they were both exhausted beyond belief.
“There’s still so much more left.” Annie stroked Ben’s hair.
“I know.” Ben kissed the corner of her lips. “I’m sorry I won’t be here to help around much.”
“It’s fine.” Annie bumped her nose with his. “Someone needs to bring home the bacon. Might as well be you.”
“I already asked for some time off after the birth.” Ben wrapped his arms around Annie’s waist a little tighter. “Can’t remember if I told you yet.”
“You did, about five times already.” Annie giggled before a sharp pain overtook her. Her hand instinctively rubbed over her baby bump as she winced.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Annie nodded with her eyes closed, “Dr. McCarthy said this might happen around this time.”
“If they’re getting too regular, you call me. Right away.”
“It’s fine, Ben.” Annie rolled her eyes playfully. “Bumpy’s not ready to come out yet. We made her promise she’ll be good and stay there until she’s good and ready.”
###
“Have you seen Jamie’s latest tweet?” Clara asked as she prepared everything she needed to give Annie’s legs and bikini line a much needed waxing.
“What do you think?”
“Have you two spoken since Ben beat his face in?” Clara asked before running down the stairs to get the little tub of wax out of the microwave.
Annie tapped her foot anxiously as she waited for her best friend to come back into the master bath. Clara walked in, tub of wax in hand, put the toilet seat cover down and picked up the applicator.
“Sit.” She pointed with the little stick at the toilet.
“I haven’t, no.” Annie sat down and stretched her legs forward. “I look like an orangutan!”
“What, with all 20 hairs on your legs?” Clara snorted and swiped a strip of hot wax on Annie’s leg. “Why not?”
“Because I have nothing to say to him.”
“He misses you.” Clara rubbed the strip up and down quickly. She braced one hand next to the cloth strip. Swiftly, her other hand pulled the strip up, eliciting a breathy, satisfied sigh out of Annie. “Christ. I forgot how much you love doing this.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’ll have to see him eventually, Banana.” Clara said, applying another line of wax. “You’ve known each other for years!”
“I know.”
“Aren’t you even a little curious?” Clara sat back on her haunches, grabbing a new cloth strip. “
“Not at all.” Annie gasped. “Oh, that was a good one!”
“Liar.” Clara smirked. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Yeah?” Annie’s voice was emotionless. “Good for him.”
“Gwil and I went on a couple’s night out with Rami and Lucy and Jamie and his girl.”
“Didn’t know Gwil and Rami were so friendly with him.” Annie snarled. “Thought Gwil hated him.”
“I’m pretty sure he still does, a bit.” Clara giggled. “Rami and Lucy were ice cold to him all night.”
“S’what he deserves.” Annie huffed. “Man, you’re good at this!”
“Stand up.” Clara commanded. “And thank you!”
“No, thank you!” Annie twisted her leg this way and that, admiring the clean, quick work Clara had done, and stood up. She braced herself on the counter, facing the sink, giving Clara access to the back of her legs. “Who is she?”
“A photographer.” Clara smiled to herself slyly at Annie’s curiosity. “Looks a bit plastic, to be honest, but he adores her.”
“Lovely.”
“Black hair, brown eyes, big puffy lips.”
“Great.”
“Turn around.”
“What are you planning to do when we go back to work?” Clara started working on Annie’s thighs.
“Keep it strictly professional. Just like I do with the rest of the bloody cast.”
“Come on, Annie.”
“I mean it. We’re only signed for three season. One is over, the first half of season two is done.” Annie shrugged. “I can handle shooting the second half of season two and the entire season three without interacting with him more than I absolutely must.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re being nag!” Annie shot back.
The two girls stayed silent for a while, Clara focused on waxing Annie’s legs, and Annie trying not to think about Jamie’s face. She hated the fact that thinking back on memories with him made her want to smile or laugh. She hated the fact that he ruined everything because he couldn’t get over himself. She hated the fact that she kind of missed having him around.
“Alright, are we ready for the main event?”
“Are you sure you’re okay with doing this?”
“Annie, I’ve seen you all kinds of naked.” Clara shrugged. “Now, get in the shower and drop ‘em. We don’t want to make a mess.”
“It’s a bit overgrown.”
“Brought my handy-dandy electric shaver, just in case.” Clara winked. Annie shimmied her knickers off and winced. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s like having a Boppy pillow attached to my groin!” Annie chuckled.
“Off it goes, then.” Clara smiled and turned on the shaver. The room echoed with the buzzing sound and the girl’s chatter.
When Ben entered the house, it was eerily quiet, but the lights were all on. He spotted Clara’s shoes and bag in the hall and whistled for Frankie, who came galloping down the stairs.
“My sweet, sweet girl!” Ben cooed and picked her up. He kissed the top of the pup’s head and started walking around the house, hunting for his girlfriend. Eventually, he walked up the stairs, poking his head into every room. As he approached the master suite, Frankie started wiggling about, so he put her down gently and walked inside. The door to the bathroom was wide open. A low buzzing sound and giggles flooded his brain.
When he got through the door, he was in for a treat. Both girls were in the shower together. Clara was on her knees in front of Annie, who was naked from the waist down. Clara held something in her hand, which Ben quickly recognized as the source of buzzing, while she had her face almost planted in his girlfriend’s crotch. His mind and heart started racing, his jeans were getting a bit tight and he couldn’t help but feel jealous at the same time.
“What in the world…” Ben’s deep voice bounced on the tiled walls. Annie and Clara looked at him and smiled sweetly.
“Oh, hello!” Annie beamed and Clara leaned back a bit and waved at Ben with the shaver. “Didn’t expect you home so soon!”
“What on earth are you two doing?” Ben gawked at the two girls, “Why is Clara’s face all up in your -” his eyes darted from Clara’s kneeling form to his girlfriend’s mischievous smile. “Is that a -” He got a better look at the device in Clara’s hand. “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, is that a shaver?”
“Clara was kind enough to help me with my overgrown wilderness!” Annie bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Since you were too afraid it will hurt me.”
“Pussy.” Clara scoffed.
“Shut the fuck up, Clara!” Ben retorted.
“That’s not a very nice way to talk to me.” Clara quipped. “Not while I’m making your girlfriend’s kitty all pretty for you.”  
“Don’t talk about my girlfriend’s…” His eyes opened wide when Clara slowly reached her hand between Annie’s thighs, wiggling her fingers dramatically. A blush crept up all the way to his ears, his mouth hung open. Ben was undeniably flustered. “Fucking hell, woman!”
“Aw, he’s so cute when he’s all red in the face!” Clara giggled as she looked up at Annie, her hand hovering inches away from her crotch. “Look at him!”
###
“Annie!” Ben called as soon as he opened the front door. “Put some pants on and come see this!”
Annie’s brows furrowed, but she did as she was told. Hoisting her sweats up her legs, she re-made the bed and waddled down the stairs, careful not to trip over Frankie. She was greeted by Joe, carrying a tall, lean, tower-like speaker inside.
“What’s this?” she followed him into the living room, where Ben placed an identical speaker next to the telly.
“Andrew, the sound-tech, was about to just throw these babies away!” Ben’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Can you believe it?”
“I can, yeah,” Annie scrunched up her nose, “they’re quite the eye-sore.”
“You won’t believe the sound that comes out of them!” Ben’s cheeks were rosy as he stroked the top of the speaker he stood next to. “It’ll blow your tits right off!”
“Ben, we don’t need these.”
“That’s what you think!” Ben gushed. “Just wait till you hear these work!”
“Joe?” Annie whined. “Talk some sense into your man.”
“I’m not carrying these fuckers back out of here.” Joe’s face was perfectly stoic. “Sorry, doll.”
“Just!” Ben was rushing here and there, unplugging wires from the old, smaller speakers. “Just let me hook these up and you’ll hear -”
“Ben, we don’t need them!” Annie walked over to Joe’s sweaty form on the sofa.
She stood by the armrest and carded her fingers through Joe’s curly auburn hair. He leaned into her touch, his cheek pressed to her baby bump.
“Hey, Josie,” Joe mumbled when he felt a kick. He stole a quick kiss to the side of her bump.
“Joe, you have to stop calling her that.” Annie’s fingers halted.
“Never.”
“We’re not naming her Josephine.” Annie closed her hand on Joe’s hair, threatening to pull.
“Of course you are!” Joe’s hand flew up to Annie’s wrist.
“Guys, can we not do this in front of the new speakers?” Ben intervened. “Please!”  
###
“Who’s that?” Annie asked Joe as they walked on the set and spotted Ben standing around with a girl, lost in conversation. “Never seen her before.”
“That’s the girl who plays Roger’s wife.”
“She’s pretty.”
“She’s alright.”
“They seem to get along well.”
“They do, yeah.” Joe took Annie’s hand and pulled her behind him as he marched up to Ben. “Yo, Benny! Look what I found locked out of your trailer!”
“Hey!” Ben’s eyes widened as he took a step away from his on-screen wife. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Surprise. I came by with Clara because she said she’s meeting Gwil for lunch.” Annie said with mock enthusiasm. “I wanted to wait for you in the trailer but it was locked.”
“Oh, yeah, we have a bit of a clepto situation.”
“What?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ben nodded, “things from set are going missing left and right. Wardrobe items, mostly. Someone must really want a keepsake.”
“That’s… both weird and a bit scary.”
“Yeah, well, until it gets sorted out, we’re locking our trailers.”
Ben stood between the two women, his hands stuffed in his trousers’ pockets. He rocked back and forth, from his heels to his toes, the tip of his tongue poking out to lick his lips.
“Well, you two seem busy,” Annie forced a smile, “I’ll just go find Gwil or something.”
“Wait!” Ben grabbed her wrist and stepped closer to her, crashing his lips down on hers in a long, searing kiss. “Okay. Now you can go.”
###
The drive home from set was unusually silent. The only sounds in the car were the engine and the radio playing. Annie’s knee bounced up and down while she bit her nails, looking out the passenger side window.
“Everything okay?” Ben reached over and gently squeezed Annie’s thigh. “You’re quiet.”
“Hm?” Annie snapped out of her own thoughts. “Yeah, yeah.”
“That’s some really bad acting…” Ben flashed her a cheeky grin. “You’re getting a bit rusty.”
“That girl was pretty.” Annie mumbled behind her hand.
“Come again?” Ben parked the car and killed the engine.
“The girl, your - Roger’s - wife,” Annie looked down at her lap. “She’s gorgeous.”
“She is.” Ben shrugged. “She looks so much like Dominique did when she was younger.”
“She does.”
“Right!” Ben drummed with his fingers on his own lap. “We’re home.”
“Yeah.” Annie bit her bottom lip and opened the door, hauling herself out of the car. “Sucks we didn’t really spend any time together. Shouldn’t have come to set.”
“What are you talking about?” Ben wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, hastily kissing the top of her head. “Didn’t you have fun with, Clara, Brian and Roger?”
“I always have fun with Roger,” Annie smirked, “I fucking love that man.”
“Do you, now?” Ben raised an eyebrow as he released her from his arms to unlock the front door. “Should I be worried?”
“I don’t know,” Annie shrugged. “Should I be worried about you and your wife?”
“Are you joking?” Ben scoffed. “What?!”
“I saw the way she looks at you!” Annie put her hands on her hips. “You called her gorgeous, you wouldn’t even touch me when I showed up, you…”
Ben stopped her ranting. He pushed her back against the door and bent his knees a little so he could lick a line from the bottom of her neck up, ultimately ravishing her lips. His hands were on either side of her head, trapping her.
“You’ve lost your bloody mind…” He rubbed his cheek against hers, his lips feathering over the shell of her ear. “... if you think that that girl has anything on you.”
Annie’s hands, flat on his chest, gently pushed him away. They stared each other down as if they were trying to communicate telepathically. After a long, tense silence, Ben brought one of his hands down to cup Annie’s cheek.
“She’s fucking hot.” Annie breathed, her face stoic.
“You’re hotter.”
“I’m a bloody whale.”
“Oh, shut up!” Ben groaned and rolled his eyes, bringing his lips back down on Annie’s for a messy, wet kiss. “You are divine.”
“I’m huge.” Annie whined.
“You’re delicious.” Ben murmured with a raspy voice, his lips brushing the delicate skin at the crook of her neck. His hands worked their way up her torso, massaging her breasts. “So delicious.”
“Ben, I’m not in the mood.” Annie chuckled nervously.
“Liar.”
“I’m not -” Annie couldn’t finish her retort. Ben pulled her body flush against his, back into the living room. “Ben!”
“Annie, shut your mouth, will you?” Ben nipped at her ear, his warm breath making Annie shiver, “just shut it.”
“Ben, I know what you’re doing here.” Annie whimpered. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Oh, you have no idea what I’m doing.” Ben pushed down on her shoulders, forcing her to sit on the sofa.
He pulled his shirt over his head and started to unbuckle his belt. After pushing his jeans down his legs and stepping out of them, he took a seat next to Annie, leaning down to her baby bump.
“Angel,” Ben purred, “I’m going to make mummy scream now. Cover your little ears, alright?”
Annie snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Problem?” His eyes shot up to hers, a cross expression on his face. Annie shook her head, stifling a giggle. “Thought so.”
Snaking his fingers under the hem of her top, Ben did quick work of getting it up and off of his girlfriend. Annie looked at Ben, her eyes bright and challenging, batting her eyelashes at him. He dipped down and started stamping the mounds of her breasts with wet, sloppy kisses, while his hands worked on ridding her of her maternity leggings. Her recently waxed legs were tantalizingly velvety under his touch.
“Ben, I don’t need a distraction, okay?” Annie snapped. “You can admit to being attracted to her. She’s fit. She’s beautiful. She’s not fucking pregnant.”
“For fuck’s sake…” Ben muttered and brought Annie’s hand to his groin. Her fingers wrapped around his bulge reflexively, making him hiss. “Feel that?” He put his hand on top of hers, increasing the pressure. “This cock is hard because of you.”
“Well -”
“Shut the fuck up.” Ben growled. “This cock is hard for you, because of you. Do you understand that?” He guided her hand up and down, his hips bucking into her touch. “Only you. No one else.”
“Fucking ridiculous.” Annie closed her eyes and sighed, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. “Ben, this is unnecessary. I’m fine.”
“You’re going to be much, much better than fine when I’m done with you.” He smirked and winked, pushing his hand inside her knickers.
Ben wrapped his free arm around Annie’s shoulders, angling his body so he could see her face as his fingers rubbed her clit in lazy circles. Annie’s lips parted, a shadow of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as her breathing picked up. She spread her legs a little wider, her hips rolling, grinding herself against Ben’s hand. Ben smiled wide, his eyes boring into Annie’s.
Ben slipped two fingers inside of her, chuckling as she threw her head back and let out a soft moan. He drove his fingers into her, all the way down to his knuckles, and wiggled them ever so slightly. He shrugged one shoulder to nudge Annie’s head back up, catching her lips with his as he pumped his fingers in and out, tantalizingly slow.
“There we go.” He murmured against her lips, breaking the kiss. “Feels good?”
“Mhm.” Annie whimpered and grasped his bicep, feeling his muscles ripple and flex. “Very good.”
“How about now?” Ben smirked as he pressed his thumb against her throbbing clit. “Good?”
Annie nodded, her nails digging into his skin. Ben’s hand continued working Annie up as his lips assaulted every sliver of exposed skin he could reach. She clumsily fumbled with her hand, brushing over his crotch. Smirking against his lips, Annie wedged her fingers under the waistband of his boxer-briefs, her fingers wrapping into a fist around his hard cock gently.
Ben pumped his fingers in and out faster, feeling Annie clench around him, her thighs spasming uncontrollably. She took his bottom lip between her teeth, tightening her grip around his throbbing dick. Ben grunted and nodded, wordlessly telling Annie what he wants. Releasing him, Annie shoved his underwear down and whined when his fingers left her.
“Turn around.”
Annie propped one knee up on the sofa, leaning forward to grip the back of it, her elbows sinking into the cushions. She spread her other leg as far as she could, her feet barely touching the floor. Ben grabbed a throw-pillow and put it under Annie’s bump.
Mimicking his girlfriend’s stance behind her, Ben started rubbing his cock against her wet pussy, trailing his hand up her back before he tangled his hand in her hair. Arching her back, Annie pushed back against him, looking over her shoulder. With a tilt of his hips, Ben slid into her, eliciting a breathy moan out of them both.    
“If you ever...” Ben started thrusting in and out, gripping Annie’s shoulders for leverage, “ever,” he gradually picked up the pace, “ever...” he tugged on her hair, making her moan and clench around him, “even think I’m into anyone else but you, I swear to God…” He bit down on his bottom lip, slamming into her. “You won’t be able to walk straight for weeks.”
“Is that a threat?” Annie teased.
“Oh, big mistake, Annie.” Ben bottomed out and thrust his hips into hers, growling in her ear, “huge.” He slipped out of her and sat back on his heels, stretching his hands back behind him to lean on. “I’m waiting.”
Annie kneeled, leaning forward, and lowered herself onto him. Her legs felt like jelly. She struggled to keep the frantic pace Ben had set earlier and brought one hand down between her legs, cupping Ben’s balls in her hand.
“Oh God.” Ben grunted, shutting his eyes tight.
“Need you to fuck me.” Annie muttered. “M’legs. Can’t.”
Ben smiled to himself before he hoisted them both back up to the sofa, spanking Annie’s butt playfully.
“You silly girl,” he breathed and pushed back into her, bringing one hand down to rub at her clit as he pumped his dick in and out. “All this cock wants is you.”
Ben rammed his hips into Annie’s feeling her breathe stutter out of her lungs as she gasped for air. Annie’s whimpers and moans grew louder, pitched higher, as she reached her climax. Her whole body tensed up, her cunt squeezing around him, pulsating. Her whole body felt like it’s buzzing as wave after wave of pleaser hit her.
“Got any juice left?” Ben chuckled when he felt her relax. “One more?” Annie giggled wickedly and clenched around him, making him inhale sharply. “Fucking devil.”
Chasing his own high, Ben grabbed and smacked Annie’s supple skin as he pounded into her, relentlessly. It wasn’t long before she started to quiver around him again. With each slap of skin against skin, Ben edged closer to his peak. His jaw slack, his eyes screwed shut, Ben pushed his hips into Annie, pulling her hips back down on him. Each spurt of cum made him stab his hips forward, trying to go even deeper into her, grunting and panting. With one last thrust, he wrapped both arms around Annie and pulled her back, onto his lap, as he collapsed on the rug.
“Do you believe me now, when I say I’m not into her?”
TAGLIST: @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @clara-who @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @rogerinamainbitch @justgivemethekeys  @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @rogerspoison @deacy-dearest @pinkmarvel @onceuponadetectivedemigod @darcyshire
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totallyrhettro · 6 years
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Territorial, chapter 17
Word Count: 2086 Rating: This chapter: PG-13. Overall story rating: explicit Warnings: Forced Human Captivity Summary: After finally realizing their shared love for one another, all internetainers Rhett and Link had to do was live happily ever after. Unfortunately, as it turns out, that’s a lot harder to do in a world of werewolves. Notes: Takes place 1 year after Animalistic began. Still no wives; Rhett and Link are in an established relationship. This is a sequel to that fic. You don’t have to read that first, but it is highly recommended.
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He didn't want to, really. He didn't want the police to get involved, but Max was his best friend and he was barely alive. Theo held him on his lap while Link paced the room, trying not to look at the blood splattered everywhere. The bartender-turned werewolf managed to do a decent job to stop the flow, and it looked as if the bullet had missed Max’s heart, but he was out cold. If the paramedics didn't show up soon, he wasn't long for this world.
“Why?” Link asked no one. “Why would he do this?”
“He's desperate,” Theo offered, leaning against the wall from his spot on the floor. “I've seen it before. He can seem so calm and collected, so… put together.” He shook his head, looking off in the distance, but his eyes didn't see the bar around him. “But inside, he’s…” Sad eyes turned to find Link, standing still to listen closer. “I've seen the wolf turn good men into monsters, but Seth is not a man. He is a demon in fancy clothes.”
Link stared at Theo, his jaw set and his hands trembling. He wanted to be more sympathetic about the dying man not five feet from him. He wanted to not be afraid about what was happening to the love of his life, somewhere out there with very dangerous men, but all he could think about was how he had missed it. Link had stared the devil in the face and shook his hand. The phrase ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ had never been so accurate. How had he not seen it? He had been completely fooled by a demon with a charming smile... and now...
“That demon has my best friend.”
~ ~ ~
With Caleb’s help, Rhett was easily carried back into the house and down the stone steps into the basement. It was fairly sparse down there, with a concrete floor and barren, unfinished walls. A single light hung from the ceiling, which Seth clicked on with a quick tug of a string. It dimly illuminated the large room and the ominous piece of furniture set up in the center of the cold space.
A cage, about four foot square and ten feet tall, sat open, waiting for Rhett with a heavy iron door that matched the rest of the giant metal structure. The thick grey bars were solid but marked with numerous scratch marks, undoubtedly made by a very large animal. This was not a cage for a simple dog.
“Do you like it?” Caleb asked, seeing Rhett examining the cage. “I had it custom made for mutts just like you.” As they got closer, and the full scope of the room come into view, he saw that this device was for more than just simple containment. On the bars of the right side, ran a set of tracks with large gears set into them. These connected to the roof of the cage, which Rhett now realized was unique as well. The entire top was lined with sharp spikes, stained with blood, pointed downwards. A giant stone block was placed on top; it looked like it weighed a literal ton.
Not far away, tucked nearly out of sight, a small crucible sat over a cold fire. A metallic substance sat inside, it’s disfigured surface glittering slightly in the dim light. Beside it were a few odd tools, a few Rhett could identify but others he could not. All together the entire set up looked like something out of the Spanish inquisition.
The three brothers stuffed Rhett inside the cage and slammed the door shut behind him. Using a large key, Seth secured the door before stepping back.
“Sorry about the head room,” he shrugged, watching as Rhett ducked to avoid the spikes. “Never had someone as tall as you in there before.” With one last glance at Caleb, almost as if to say ‘he’s all yours’, Seth headed back up the stairs. Damian paused at the base of the stairs, sending Rhett a sympathetic shrug.
“You brought this on yourself, Rhett,” he said. “Now make it easy on yourself. Tell him what he wants to know, while you still have a chance.” Rhett didn't reply at first; all this time he hadn't found the words to say that could make these men let him go. As Damian turned to follow his brothers out, Rhett grabbed the bars of his prison and croaked out a question.
“What do you want from me?” The shorter man turned and regarded him for a moment before answering.
“Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”
~ ~ ~
Link didn't even realize he had fallen asleep when he was jostled awake by Theo. He jolted slightly in his chair, almost knocking his glasses off of his face. At first he thought he was back home, sitting in the big living room chair downstairs having fallen asleep once again. When his eyes adjusted, he saw Theo standing over him, and the bright fluorescent light above him. They were in the hospital waiting room. In this late (or early) hour they were alone; the attending nurse was away making her rounds.
“You should go,” he was telling Link. His own face was ragged and exhausted, his eyes terribly bloodshot. “You need to find Rhett.”
“How’s Max?” Theo managed a small smile at Link’s concern but it was half-hearted.
“There’s nothing you can do here, Link. The doctors will do what they can but…” Link grabbed Theo’s arm as his words failed. His tear-streaked face threatened to moisten yet again, but he held back the tears knowing he wouldn't be able to stop them. “Find Alistair, the mutt leader. Here-” he handed over a small slip of paper with an address scribbled on it- “It’s one of his safe houses. He might be able to find out where the Lowells have Rhett stashed.”
“Wuh... well why would he listen to me?” Link had never even spoken with the mutts more than once, and it wasn't with the most pleasant of tones.
“I called him, told him you were going to pay them a visit. I have to stay here in case… in case…”
“Max will be fine,” Link stated. He didn't believe it; he wished he could but he had seen the damage that one bullet had done. Still, he tried to exude as much positivity as possible, to keep Theo’s hopes as high as he could. “Thank you... for helping me.” Getting to his feet, Link stretched the ache out of his bones.
“I know you two are close,” Theo told him without judgement, “but Rhett’s my friend too-”
“I’ll find him.” There was no uncertainty, there was no question. Link had to find Rhett, there was no other option. He just hoped he could find him quickly before anything terrible happened to him.
~ ~ ~
The Lowells left Rhett alone for the rest of the night, thankfully. He wasn’t sure he could stay awake much longer anyhow. The cage wasn’t even close to comfortable but, curling up in a somewhat fetal position, he managed to at least fit well enough inside the small space. His tall frame pressed against the cold bars and by the time the sun rose his body was aching all over. He promised never to complain about getting a small bed at a hotel ever again.
“Rise and shine, cupcake,” came a voice. Rhett didn’t stir, but held perfectly still. Moving hurt. There was an extremely slim chance that if he pretended to be asleep, he would be left alone. Too slim. The burly man kicked the bottom of the cage, causing it to shake, and vibrations ran through Rhett's body. “Come on now, daylight’s a wastin’.” Defeated, Rhett opened his eyes to see one of his captures standing in front of him. He didn't know much about Caleb; never really talked to him but Theo had said of the three Lowell brothers, this one was the worst. Unlike the others he had a real thirst for inflicting pain. “You can rest later. I want to have a chat.”
Groaning, Rhett pushed himself into a seated position. It hurt less to stay down. That seemed to suit Caleb just fine as he unfolded a metal chair he had been carrying and sat down before his prisoner.
“Now then, we’re shall we begin?”
“I don’t know anything,” Rhett mumbled, blinking his weary eyes.
“That’s fine with me, honestly. You can tell me everything or nothing. In fact-” Caleb grinned a wicked grin. “I’d prefer if you give me nothing. More fun for me.” Rhett squinted at the man. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, much like the first day they had met. His sleeves were pulled back, showing off his muscular arms. His hands were folded together as he leaned forward, elbows on knees. There was a scent about him, not like perfume or B.O., something a human nose would pick up. This was something else. A wolfy scent; it smelled like arrogance and pride. It smelled like someone who knew they held all the cards. There was something else, something more subtle and it took even Rhett’s keen senses to understand what it was: excitement. His skin radiated the smell of his delight.
“I don’t know where the mutts are, please,” Rhett implored. “I didn’t want to get involved with your fight.”
“Fight?” Caleb sounded the word in his mouth, testing it, tasting it. “No, Rhett. This isn't a fight, it's a war. It’s been a war since before you were even born, and it will continue until one side or the other is wiped out. There’s no other way. In the meantime…” He leaned back, stretching out his legs, like a cocky jock. “We might as well enjoy it.” Rhett said nothing. He wasn’t going to beg for his life, not yet. He didn’t want to give this man the satisfaction. He wasn’t going to answer any questions, not that he knew the answer to any of them anyway. He was telling the truth when he said he didn’t know anything. He and Link had kept out of the fight as much as they could and that left them ignorant of so much.
“Still, we don’t want you to starve before the good part so..” Caleb slapped his thighs and got to his feet. “You just sit tight. I’ll see what we can do to get some food in ya. Might be awhile. Maybe in the meantime you can put some thought into were those mutts are, huh?”
“I don't know!” Rhett surprised himself with his shout, but Caleb wasn’t phased. No doubt he’d seen this all before, probably in this very room. The man smirked and walked over to the side of the cage with the gears.
“I designed this myself, you know,” he bragged, grabbing a large handle on the side of the cage. “Custom built to hold mutts. Now, it’s certainly unpleasant for most humans, too, but that’s not what it’s for.” He looked down at Rhett, waiting for the curious question to be asked, but it never came so he continued. “It’s very simple, really. It’s built to hold even the most fierce of werewolves. Not even Seth could break out of it. See this?” He tapped the handle. “All I have to do, is crank it up a bit and-” he turned the winch, lifting the roof of the cage an inch or so- “and then I can lower it as far as I want.” Using strength no doubt ten times that of a normal human, Caleb lowered the roof of the cage an entire foot before stopping. It locked into place with a clang. “It goes all the way to the floor, you know.”
Rhett swallowed, instinctively cowering away from the approaching spikes, but they didn’t fall. Right now Caleb wasn’t trying to hurt him, just intimidate him, and it was working spectacularly. Rhett was beginning to understand what his future held. His captor stepped back to the front of the cage.
“You’re going to squish me,” Rhett guessed. Caleb shook his head.
“Nothing so quick. Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out soon enough. I’ll check back in a few hours with some grub. Sit tight and don’t go nowhere.” With a chuckle, the man picked up his folding chair, leaning it against the far wall, then headed back up the stairs. Rhett was once again left alone with his thoughts, none of which gave him any comfort.
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charlesrockafellor · 3 years
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Sometimes risqué, generally just titillating, I give you chapter 1 (of 8) of "In for an Amy, in for a Pond" (click the linked title for the entire story), an Amy Pond tale (plenty of pulpy sci-fi, with a few nuggets of actual physics for fun).
=====
Chapter 1: Amy's wife
Summary: In which Amy discovers Amy, and they go off in search of Amy (and Amy, of course, not to mention Amy, and Amy, and...).
Amy stared at it.
There it was, standing right in front of her.  The TARDIS.  She had no idea why it looked golden, but lighting was certainly a bit odd on this level.  Blue... gold; she had a dress like that.
Shaking her head, she stepped inside, walking straight through to her room.
First thing was a relaxing bath and change of clothing, then food. It had taken her forever to find her way back here, and some of the less-traveled corridors really needed a good cleaning — and she'd yet to figure out how in the world she'd even managed to get down there in the first place.
At last! This skirt was not meant for hiking.
Stepping in, she found herself staring once more.
What has Rory done this time?
Everything was rearranged. The bed, the furniture — everything. Including her clothes, as it turned out. In fact, a good number of those weren't even hers.
Lovely. The Doctor's gone and used my closet as spillover storage! Ooh, nice outfit, that — it'll look good on me!
“What the bloody...?”
For the third time in as many hours, Amy found herself startled to a standstill, staring.
“Glad to see that you've made it,” the other Amy said, stepping around the console, just as the time rotor began to piston.
She couldn't help staring, her eyes traveling over the other. It was an odd but quite fetching outfit, halfway between the Red Baron and Captain Hook, and every inch of it skintight and riveting. It had to be the hat. Other-Amy wasn't wearing one, but Amy could just feel it there, tilted at a rakish angle.
My God, I'm incredibly gorgeous! If only she knew the thoughts going through my head right now...
“I do know the thoughts that are going through your head right now, you know,” the other said, “and really, they're rather shocking. Shall we go take care of that now, so that you can perhaps concentrate for more than five seconds, or shall we simply ravish each other right here? I won't mind either way at all, you know. Been looking forward to it quite a bit, truth to tell.”
“How did you — I —” she began, looking around for the Doctor, “Right then, there's been another one of those time things, hasn't there? How do we fix it this time?”
“I'm afraid not this time, darling. We're on our own, with all of the time in the world,” the other explained.
“Wait. Do you mean — then who's operating the TARDIS?”
“The Doctor, I imagine, or one of him, at any rate. Technically all of him,” her duplicate replied, “This is the SARDIV.”
“Sorry?”
“Void,” said the other, coming closer and leaning in as Amy found herself leaning backward against the wall, “Spacetime And Relative Dimension In Void. It comes from nontrivial zeroes of Riemann zeta on a degenerate set — not actually null, but good luck with the antiderivative. It helps to have an omnidirectional control device.
“It also takes some getting used to, what with E-space and everywhere else,” she said, running her fingers over Amy's shirtsleeve, “but there are some benefits. Also, you'll be glad to know that I keep a few more of your skirts on hand at all times, for fashion emergencies.”
“So, just to be clear: you're not me.”
“I'm Amelia,” the other said, taking a step back to bow, “But yes, I'm you — at least I was you eventually — except that I never was.”
This gave Amy pause.
“Good Lord, you're as bad as he is!”
“I should be,” Amelia replied, “I've had some time to practice. To the rational mind, nothing is inexplicable, only unexplained.”
“All right then, explain to me how this... SARDIV situation came about.”
“Well, future-you had a bit of an incident with the heart of the TARDIS, absorbing the time vortex itself. No one's meant to have that power. If a Time Lord did that, they'd become a god. It split you into several versions. It took quite some time to get us all back together, not to mention the research, and you've no idea how much my heads ached with that. In the end, the only solution was to materialize the TARDIS outside of itself at a point parallel to the center of the universe, but in interstitial space. Needless to say, this presented an issue. We got it done, but between Blinovitch and all of the Artron energy buildup that we each carried... we grounded out and it all overloaded, and the TARDIS had to be absolutely anywhere except wherever it was, but even nowhere is somewhere, all of this sort of shorting out the universe and resulting in a bit of a paradox, with time winds tilting the TARDIS across several boundaries that she was never meant to cross and a few directions that don't even exist, and me stepping out unscathed, you being you all over again, the rest of us out there, and the original you never having been exposed to the heart in the first place to cause all of this.”
“And how's that explain our being here, then?”
“Alright, I'll show you,” Amelia replied, stepping away for a moment, “It's because combinatoric potentiae and collapsed wave functions are not in the same dimension.”
Reaching into a recess, she withdrew several boxes.
“Which box is the real one?” she asked, holding them up for Amy's inspection.
Amy stood there puzzled, unsure of where this was going, but pointing to one at random.
Amelia grinned, jumbled the boxes around at random, and set all but one down on the console, then returned to hold up the remaining one in front of Amy, obscuring the view.
“Now, of those that you can see, which one is real?”
Amy pointed to the only one that she could see, still at a loss as to what Amelia was driving at.
“This one?” she hazarded.
“But it looks the same as the others!” Amelia remarked.
“Well, that's because they're all boxes.”
“Exactly. If you were to remove all of those from this one — and have this one here as well — the variations would be indistinguishable from the original, other than their differences of course.”
“That's silly.”
“That's transphase-spatial engineering, my key discovery.”
“Wait. So we're the tiny boxes, popping out the side of the bigger box?”
“Yeah. No. But if it helps, yes.
“In any event,” Amelia sighed, “at least you're here now. It was only a matter of time. I've been going mad here, all by myself. Shall we simply start with lunch, then?”
“But, Rory. Well. The Doctor! And home?”
“You're there right now, love. They're fine, and you're with them right now, since you never left. It's just that you're here with me, while they're therewith you. None of this ever happened for them. Come on, you'll feel much better with a few biscuits in you,” Amelia said, taking Amy's hand and leading her off in search of a good meal, “We'll 'play doctor' later — cross our hearts.”
Amelia's hand was warm and comfortable, and the view afforded her of Amelia's bottom swaying back and forth in front of her was indeed a completely captivating compensation for the moment. If she hadn't known any better, she'd have sworn that Amelia was accentuating her movements just to draw her thoughts thither, focusing on delving therein.
If only I could pry those—
“Enjoying yourself back there, are you, dear?”
=====
“You can't have been here all that long,” Amy observed, setting aside the now empty salad bowl and reaching for her soup and sandwich.
“You'd be surprised what a little untempered vortex can do for a body,” Amelia smiled, “but the weather on Gallifrey didn't suit my taste.”
“You've been?”
“Had to, now didn't I? This ship doesn't exactly come with a 'read me' file1.”
“What did you wear?”
“A tuxedo, of course,” she said.
Amy waited a beat.
“You wore white, as I recall,” Amelia winked.
Amy gaped, “I never!”
“Not yet, no.”
This veiled innuendo gave her some pause, sneaking peaks at her other self as she pretended to consider dipping her sandwich into her soup.
“Go ahead and dip, I like the way you purse your lips around the bread when you do. And the way the juices still drip from your chin afterward.”
Blushing furiously, she proceeded to do just that nevertheless.
“And it was a smoky blue, with muted gold and silver-gray brocade. What can I tell you? It was true love at last.”
Then it hit her, “Why did you go to Gallifrey?”
“I had to learn how to drive this thing.”
“Then how did you get to Gallifrey?”
“I had to learn how to drive this thing.”
“What did you do after?”
“A bit of this, a bit of that,” Amelia said, “and then I waited.”
“For...?”
“For you, of course.”
“That's a change.”
“Well, I waited once before, you might remember, so I had some practice.”
“But you didn't have to, this time.”
Amelia remained silent.
“You didn't, did you?”
“The SARDIV can get a bit stroppy,” was all that she said.
“Oh you poor thing! How long?”
Again, Amelia was silent.
“How long?”
“Long.”
“What, like our Rory?”
“Longer.”
Amy melted inside, reaching out to put her hand on Amelia's.
Amelia smiled, though it still held a touch of gray.
“Water under the bridge. You're here now, and that's what matters. So here we are, and it all comes down to... just another happy ending.”
“Yes, well,” Amy replied, then realized that she had no snark remaining in her just then, ending with “just don't you go thinking that a sob story will get you anywhere, miss.”
Amelia looked at her sidelong, saying “Not at all, Heaven forfend. I had in mind dinner and a movie first! I don't just whip out my sonic probe2 and show it to a girl before the first date.”
O ~~~ O
Keep Reading
Notes:
1 Read Me file: Not technically true. The SARDIV has an Index File just as much as any good TARDIS should. She's just not always quite as forthcoming as one might wish... just as one might well expect of any canon-TARDIS, at this point.
2 Sonic probe: This version has all of the usual bells and whistles, but also doubles as an MIB red flashy thing (neuralyzer circuits courtesy of some nice young gentlemen in suits) and psychic paper. Amy further discovers that it serves other — and much more “personal” — functions.
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singledarkshade · 6 years
Text
Memory Wipe
Part Three
Amelia had lost her parents when she was young.
She barely remembered them but she could never forget the sight of the man who murdered them standing over their dead bodies and the body of her childhood best friend, covered in blood as he smiled then straightened the bow tie he wore.
Then her new mother came.
Mother looked after her taking her to a place where she was trained to ensure that no one would be able to hurt her ever again.
Amelia took to the training as naturally as breathing and she liked to fight. She liked to hurt people because she couldn’t find the man who had taken everything from her. One day though she would find the man who destroyed her life and she would kill him the way he’d killed the people she had loved.
Entering the room with her mother, Amelia quickly took in the inhabitants. Three men, who were all definitely not her type, stood around the room. They each wore a black suit looking serious and dull.
She stood leaning against the wall playing with one of her knives while Mother talked with their new acquaintances, wondering if there would be time to find a bar to get some entertainment.
Then the fourth member of their new associates arrived.
He was younger than the others with sandy hair and beard, although also dressed in black it made him look interesting instead of boring. He stalked into the room and took a seat swinging his feet onto the coffee table with complete disinterest.
“Rip,” Thawne, the leader, stated coolly, “I have asked that you keep your feet off the furniture. We also have guests so at least pretend that you have some manners.”
The man called Rip looked up and nodded quickly to Mother before his gaze transferred to her. He was out of his seat in one smooth movement.
“Amelia,” he breathed, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it, “I was wondering when I would meet you.”
Glancing over to her mother for a second, who looked slightly concerned, Amelia turned back to him.
“How exactly do you know me?” she straightened up liking the fact that he was only slightly taller than she was.
He chuckled, “You took me hostage and stabbed me once. But trust me I don’t hold a grudge.”
“Amelia,” Mother stated sharply, “I have something I need you to do.”
Rip took a step back and looked at Mother before he took his seat again a smirk on his face.
  Rip watched the women leave the room looking forward to finding out exactly what he had done for Amelia to stab him.
He remembered the kiss she’d given him. In fact he’d found himself fantasising about it at times, something he would never admit to any of the idiots he’d travelled with at the time.
Now here she was and he was no longer bound by who he had been, since Thawne and the others had released him from his boring morality as well as the prison of being ‘Phil’, so he was going to get to know her much better.
“Where am I going next?” he asked with a lazy drawl.
Thawne shook his head, “With our guests here you have a few days so take some time. I will call you when you’re needed.”
Rip shrugged and headed to his room to change into his gym clothes. He may as well get some training in while he was stuck here. Passing one of the rooms he spotted Amelia and her mother, smiling at her when she glanced his way.
He was going to earn that knife to the stomach.
  “Who is he, Mother?” Amelia asked as Rip walked past the room they were in and smiled at her, “And why did you pull me away?”
Her mother studied her intently, “Do you recognise him?”
Amelia shook her head, “Why would I?” before frowning in thought, “Though I must get to know him since at some point I stab him.”
“He was another child whose family were taken from him,” Mother answered, “By the same man who took yours.”
A feeling of kinship blossomed in Amelia at this revelation.
“I’m now concerned about him,” Mother told her.
“Why?”
“To protect him after his parents’ death,” Mother explained, “I had to alter some of his memories of that night. If our new friend Mr Thawne has used any kind of memory device on him then he could be in danger.”
“You need to check his mind?”
Mother nodded, “But he must be relaxed and not fight me. Can you manage that?”
Amelia shrugged with a smile, “I can give him a sedative.”
“Darling,” Mother called her before she left the room, “Be careful. This man may have been playful a few moments ago but he is dangerous.”
A slow smiled covered her face, “So am I, Mother.”
                          *********************************************
  Rip finished his training and headed back to his room for a shower. He’d had very little spare time since joining Thawne and his team but with what he had Rip used to ensure he was at peak fitness. Especially after his time as a film student who thought that weed was a food group.
Entering his room Rip pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it onto his bed stopping when he saw the redhead leaning against the wall watching him.
“I don’t see a wound from where I supposedly stabbed you?” Amelia noted her eyes sliding up and down his torso.
Rip folded his arms across his chest, “I had excellent medical care.”
“So, what exactly did you do so I would stab you?” she asked, delight in her voice.
Rip walked across the floor so he was standing only a few inches from her, “I have been wondering that too.”
He looked down at her smiling as she pushed herself off the wall so they were face to face, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“What else happened?” Amelia asked softly, her lips hovering close to his so he could feel her breath ghosting against his skin.
“You kissed me,” he smirked.
Amelia laughed softly, “I kissed you? You didn’t kiss me?”
“Not that time,” he answered before closing the distance between them.
Rip pressed her against the wall, his hands resting on her waist while her arms slid around his neck pulling him closer. Sliding his hands down Rip lifted her feeling Amelia’s legs wrap around his waist. They parted for a moment both breathing heavily.
“I think we should discuss this more,” Amelia told him, pulling him close once again.
  Amelia lay feeling her new lover drawing patterns on her stomach, his head propped up on his elbow as he lay watching her. She had always enjoyed finding new friends to play with, usually though it was in a bar where she would enjoy herself before leaving them in her wake. It was rare she would do this but it was nice to relax and enjoy the afterglow.
“Was that enough to stab me?” Rip asked amused.
Amelia turned pushing him to lie on his back sliding onto him, “Not yet but I’m sure you can keep trying.”
She kissed him again placing a hand on his neck and pressing the sedative patch onto him so her mother could perform her checks. She continued the kiss until he slipped into a deep sleep.
Sitting looking down on the unconscious man Amelia slid her hands across his chest musing on how she could do absolutely anything to him. Just a little nick at the right place in his neck and he would bleed to death without ever waking up.
Instead Amelia placed a soft kiss on his lips slipping off him and pulling her clothes back on.
Finding her phone to call her mother, Amelia covered Rip with the sheet protecting his modesty for a reason she couldn’t have voiced.
  “Darling,” Missy stated exasperated when she entered the room, “You know you didn’t need to do so much to give him the sedative.”
Amelia shrugged with a slight pout, “I thought he would be fun to play with.”
Missy rolled her eyes, “Go, put some proper clothes on and be ready. I have something for you to do after I’ve checked him.”
Amelia took one last look at the man on the bed before she left the room.
Missy closed the door, ensuring it was locked before turning back to the man on the bed.
“Well, well, well, Rory Williams,” she said conversationally, “I have to say I like the new look. The beard definitely takes away from the nose and the reputation you have managed to garner for yourself is impressive,” she chuckled to herself, “Do you like your wife’s new personality? I must admit she’s much more fun with a dagger in her hand. She will have sex with just about anything that moves but from what I hear you married someone else so you can’t complain.”
Silence answered her.
“Now, I just have to check my block is still in place,” she pressed her fingers to his temples closing her eyes, “Since you did that memory wipe to yourself and then these idiots playing with your brain I have to make sure Rory Williams is still well hidden. We can’t have you remember who you really are until I’m ready.”
She nodded pleased that everything was fine. She hadn’t planned for them to meet again until it was time for her plan to be enacted but it did amuse her to allow them to have a relationship.
It would make her endgame so much more fun to watch.
                          *********************************************
  Rip smiled when Amelia appeared in his room after his mission and without a word slid onto his lap.
“What’s wrong?” she asked brushing her lips to his neck.
“I shot one of the so called Legends,” he explained with a slight frown, “The kid kept saying her name, like it should mean something to me, like she should mean something to me.”
Amelia shrugged, “Don’t let them get to you. I am the only woman who means anything to you.”
Rip kissed her before flipping her onto her back stretching out on her, “You are.”
Amelia pulled him down to her and he smiled as she drew him into another kiss. Rip surrendered to her, forgetting everything in her arms.
It hadn’t been her intention to continue this. Her plan was enjoy his company a few times before moving on but Amelia found that anytime she wanted company she gravitated towards Rip. She even found himself staying in his bed after they finished, falling asleep wrapped in his arms.
  “I’m not sure why you’re letting this continue,” Thawne noted to Missy as they watched Amelia walk into Rip’s room.
Missy smiled slightly amused, “Amelia has quite an appetite. If she wasn’t getting her entertainment from your friend she’d go out to look for it elsewhere and that could get bloody.”
Thawne looked at her in concern, “How bloody?”
“Very. My daughter is extremely well trained,” Missy noted, “As your associate is well under your control these days it’s easier to let them enjoy each other for the moment.”
Thawne nodded.
“Once you have the Spear of Destiny Amelia and I will be leaving,” Missy reminded him.
The man known as the Reverse Flash mused on this, “Considering what you’ve told me about your daughter I would prefer that be sooner rather than later.”
Missy laughed, “You may be fast, Mr Thawne but interrupt Amelia when she’s enjoying herself and there will be nowhere for you to hide.”
                          *********************************************
  Rip opened his eyes blinking in the light.
“Hey,” Sara’s familiar voice made him turn slightly finding her standing watching him, “How do you feel?”
Taking a breath Rip rolled his shoulders before replying through dry lips, “Like my brain has been put through a blender.”
“Do you feel more like you though?” she asked.
With a soft deprecating laugh he nodded, “Actually, yes.”
“Good because we need you,” Sara told him with certainty, “Are you ready to stop the Legion of Doom?”
Rip pushed a hand through his hair, “As I’ll ever be.”
“Good,” Sara motioned him forward, “Let’s go.”
As they walked Rip looked down at her, “One good thing is I’m sure I now know why I was stabbed in Venice.”
“Oh, you didn’t?” Sara cried in disgust.
Part Four
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lucalicatteart · 6 years
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people of the realm: some roomates
Though originally i only had the demon who used magic to form a bunch of arms and etc.,  when thinking about his living situation, a roommate naturally occurred as well, since I guess it seemed natural, the typical trope of 'every stressed out uptight hermit must by law have another character they're forced to interact with that is the complete opposite of them' lol .
 Kaiel is a lazy goth elf art school student (mostly focused on painting) that owns like 500 hats and likes to play her really loud music while she paints, or just does anything in general (ALWAYS music.. one of those people who is like.. never NOT listening to music, she's always got a radio out or headphones in or something). She leaves junk food wrappers and craft supplies and clothes everywhere, and despite being pretty active and energetic, mostly likes to sit around the house and play games, or invite friends over,,, mostly to still just play games with them. The only thing that rivals her music collection is her games, game devices, game merch, etc. She has a bunch of small pets like mice and snakes and, most frighteningly for her roommate, lots of spiders and other bugs. Kaiel is pretty social but still stays at home a lot, she just prefers to invite people over rather than go out places.
 She’s just naturally a pretty loud and excitable person, and can be a bit sloppy and careless and more relaxed about everything (like messes around the house and deadlines and stuff don't really get to her, if she spills something she'll leave it and decide she can clean it up later, etc. Which she does ACTUALLY do, like, she gets her school projects turned in on time, pays rent, does her part of the house chores, etc. It's just she... often waits until the very last minute and is never urgent about getting things done, she's just.. very mellow and chill about things all the time) , which is fine for most situations, but with Virin being the exact opposite they can,, clash a lot.   
She doesn’t have any ill feelings towards him though, aside from sometimes being a bit jealous since he’s vaguely famous in certain music scenes and she thinks being famous would be cool, since people could bring her free food, and she always wonders why he doesn’t take advantage of fans and ask them to make free food for him (she's regularly like "HEY, you have fans right??? You think any of them would bring us free snacks? Some dinner? Do you have any of their phone numbers you could call on like, right now? Wouldn't that be so cool? I'm sure you could get in touch with someone!! Pleaseeee?!!?!!") . Sometimes she likes to mess with him, because she sees him as so emotionally unstable, she'll like, do something small like nail a shoe to the outside of his door , or re-arrange his food in the fridge to watch him freak out just because she's so baffled by the fact that he could be affected my something which she perceives as so trivial, but this has backfired in the past since like.. she does have.. basic empathy,.. and when it goes from 'oh hee heee he's annoyed for 2 minutes or so' to like, 'he seems to be having a legitimate breakdown over this and has been crying for 15 minutes' she starts to feel extremely guilty about her 'pranks'.  
Virin is a demon/jhevona who has the rare ability  to use magic to form functioning external arms (which if you’re not naturally inclined would be hard to do given how much energy it would take usually and would drain your magic pretty quickly), which he mostly utilizes by using them to play ridiculously elaborate songs that are only possible for someone with way more than two hands (so he’ll regularly write music where 8 pianos are supposed to be played by him at once and etc., or will simultaneously play 19 entirely different instruments all on his own, etc.), though he also uses it just for everyday stuff since the arms are kind of second nature to him now (like he doesn’t really have to consciously consider much, if he dropped something and wanted to catch it, an arm may just appear on it’s own to do so, etc.).  He spends most of his time sitting in his room with the door locked or off going to classes, just wants to be left alone to practice and write music.. He doesn't seem to actually have any friends, hobbies, or life, outside of classwork and his own musical projects and performances, though he has been known to try gardening every once in a while (he buys plants and tends to them for maybe a week, before he eventually gets so stressed out with other responsibilities he forgets to water them and they all die.. wait a few months and repeat lol). 
 Due to a combination of health issues, nightmares, and the severe burden of his workload (and his perfectionism in relation to it), he is pretty much always extremely sleep deprived which makes him easily annoyed and emotional (he’s that way even when not sleep deprived lol, but, it severely Amplifies it.. to the point where he stress cries over just dropping a notebook on the floor,, or will  run outside in the middle of the night because for the past 45 minutes his mind has been literally unable to do anything else but  fixate on this small dripping noise seemingly coming from outside his window so now he’s going to go angrily climb up the side of the building and fix whatever is making the noise before he burns down the apartment in an exasperated sleepless fit of noise rage, etc.). 
He regularly goes multiple days, sometimes even a full week without sleep, and is often just walking around like, disoriented and hallucinating and severely emotionally stressed, running into things or dropping stuff due to the reduction in motor skills (and just general cognitive processes) from sleep deprivation, feels like he's always about to pass out, etc. Though he's looked into a few different potions and enchantments to help with the effects of getting little sleep, most of them have had side effects he doesn't like, or haven't worked for some other reason, so for now he's still just stumbling around in the worst mental state possible most of the time (though he does luckily get a break every once in a while between school work and etc. and can actually rest, it's still usually only for a few days or less).  
He's naturally almost impossibly shy and reserved and soft spoken, though it’s not very obvious since most of the time when people actually see him outside of his room he’s stressed and only half awake (thus making him seem more confrontational or uncaring).  His only life goals are to gain recognition for his musical talent, and also to one day be in a position where he can sleep for three weeks straight and have no responsibilities to attend to. He also maybe wants to be a teacher but is the worst public speaker imaginable and would have no idea how to communicate with students. Since he's such a ridiculously extreme over-achiever, he'll probably come up with a hundred more goals for himself over the course of his life, but for now he can only handle so much in his already overburdened workload.   
They both get along generally, though they don’t know much about each other and hardly talk (aside from every once in a while when she does something like begs him to play rhythm games with her (because "you’re a professional musician so you’d be good at them right?!") and he reluctantly does for maybe 20 minutes before something about the game’s design or a random element of the environment (maybe a box of cookies spilled on the floor) makes him upset and he runs off back into his room stress crying (which she doesn’t understand how ridiculously little he sleeps or etc. so her perception of him is just that he’s like, legitimately so deeply affected by like.. cookies existing or something, she’s always just obliviously baffled about his moods like “wow, who would have thought someone hates lamps so much that they’d get upset over them! weird lol! :O “ ), they’re at least very civil and have enough common ground that it’s not impossible to share an apartment and they’re both responsible enough to pay their rent on time and etc. usually, despite constant disagreements over noise level and house chores (and bug friends).
 Though it'd probably help if they spent a little more time with each other, so that eventually he could see that she's much more than an irresponsible loud reckless but well intentioned fool that contributes to his sleep issues (especially since she has actual artistic talents, that could be something he'd have an admiration for if he ever actually saw them), and she could see the state he's actually in 24/7 and realize that he's not some insanely hyper-sensitive weird boy that sobs over seeing potato chips, it's just that he probably hasn't slept once in about a week and is usually in a pretty fragile state.
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