#the first 10 hours was a wild ride at least and I think I barely scratched the surface | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oworiio · 3 years

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non con w/ kisaki <3? welcome to tumblr cant wait for ur other writings btw

impure

summary: it was only a nice gesture, but now your vision is blurry and things seem so, distant. . . characters: tetta kisaki x reader content: 18+ mdni, dub/non-con, drugged sex, breeding.

a/n: first rq!! kinda scared..!! this is kind of rushed so bare with me :(

"One more for me and her over here!" your co-worker calls out to the bartender, grabbing their purse "I'mma go to the restroom I'll be back quick, besides," They sharply nod their head behind you, "I think he wants your attention (Y/N)." You turn your head, quickly glaring at the man— who's making intense eye contact with you. "Go for it, He isn't even ugly (Y/N)." They wink, leaving their seat to the back of the dinky bar you're at.

'I mean they're right, he isn't that bad looking', You think turning back giving him a quick smile— Giving the bartender a faint 'Thanks' before grabbing your drink, walking up the man.

"Hey." you gave him another smile setting your drink down as you adopt the seat beside him. "Hello." the man replies. "So, you've seen me looking at you, huh?" he picks up his glass downing it fairly quickly. " 'Tender, one for me and the woman." he declares— a slight smug forming in the corner of his mouth "The special."

"Oh no! It's fine, uh my co-worker actually bought me a drink already," You hold up your drink, "See?"

You could swear you saw his eye twitch a little, "I insist."

'That was oddly stern. . .' You willingly accept his alcohol, "Oh- um, My name is (Y/N) by the way, you?"

"Kisaki. Tetta Kisaki." He slides your drink to you, "Hope ya' like sweet drinks." Kisaki smiles devilishly, wide and white plastered his face as he watches you take a sip of it. His smile makes you hitch a bit, maybe he's just bad at smiling? Who are you to assume something's gonna happen?

He turns to his side grabbing his drink to join you— cocking his head; mentally searching your body, "What do you do for work, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just an office worker."

"Oh? you' into business?"

"No no, it's just-"

"You know I have a business myself," He curtly cuts you off—pushing his glasses up. "Really?"

He nods, "Mm."

—

Has time flew by? You don't know. You feel like you've been here for hours, No 10 minutes? No 30 minutes? Has it even been minutes? You can't tell, Kisaki has been mindlessly rambling about business and his work, shit you can't even understand or even care to understand. Things have slowly become muffled and blurry.

"Ki-saki" you call out in a whisper, Things are rapidly becoming unclear and faint, what the fuck is happening to you?

—

"Wake up, wake the fuck up already." A familiar voice being thinly heard as you return to consciousness— his hand wavering your face. "Jesus fuck, finally."

It's Kisaki, wait wait what happened to the bar? where the hell are you? You look beside you, you're on top of a building.. when the hell did you get here? And why were you bound up with a folding gag on your mouth?

Things were finally making sense. Tetta Kisaki drugged you. Your realization and awareness quickly makes your breathing erratic, tears flowing from your face as you cry. Tetta Kisaki drugged you.

"You've finally woken up" Kisaki smiles, squatting down to meet you as he holds and caresses your face softly, "It's been an hour." He strikes your face with no remorse, making your ears ring, returning back to cup your now red cheek.

"Pleafs, let mpf go!" You pleads becoming completely muffled as you sob— face feeling extremely tingly and burning.

"I'm sorry, but no." Kisaki scoffs, "You're lucky you're so beautiful that I didn't want anyone else to have you." his tone is soft— giving you an oddly gentle smile, "After you've been nothing but a fucking bitch to me."

What? you've been nothing but nice to him? Is it because you didn't accept his drink at first? Is that why you're in this situation? Oh god.

"Usually, if whores like you are that impolite they get gang raped, and killed shortly after." He says, flat and cold as if saying something that wild is completely casual. "Mm, but you're different I guess." His warm smile returns as his hands slowly progresses down your shirt, harshly unbuttoning your blouse exposing your lacy bra— causing you to completely shut down and weep into the damp covering; Kisaki's eyes widen with a quiet gasp, "Such a naughty bra (Y/N)."

He quickly moves on, forcefully spreading your legs causing your pencil skirt to ride up and unintentionally revealing your matching panties under your pantyhose. "It's like you're begging for me," He chuckles, "How'd you know I'm a fan of pantyhose (Y/N)?"

His question catches you off guard until he vigorously rips a huge opening on your crotch as he licks his lips, pulling your panties to the side to reveal your slit, "Such a pretty pussy..." he murmurs rubbing his calloused around your folds, momentarily touching your clit making you inhale sharply, "Oh? Is this the special spot (Y/N)?" his voice in a low grown as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking and savoring the little taste making his two fingers moist before returning to your pussy, as his uninvited fingers barge inside your hole. Cruelly sliding in and out, curling and scissoring your walls, you couldn't help but moan into the rag and making his fingers wet with your lewd juices

"You're getting a kick out of this aren't you?" His laugh echos over and over again inside the big room, making a pit in your stomach form more and more. Oh god why does your body have to betray you? Kisaki moves over yanking the gag out of your mouth, "I wanna hear you, tell me how good it feels." his request being ignored as you focused on trying to conceal your moans. No response pisses Kisaki off, removing his fingers to suddenly slap your pussy, He tuts, "Fine. I'll just fuck it out of you instead."

Your eyes widen as you realize he was not joking, The sound of his belt unclasping with his pants unzipping, his cock is out in the open, you don't get a clear image of it since your tears plus the drugs hindered your sight, but it was a decent size. The shamefully say the least. He took no time in trying to prepare you, you've lost that privilege. He positions himself on top of you, pushing your legs all the way to your chest, fully mounting you as he wiggles his tip all over your pussy to find your hole, and when he does he takes no chance of going slow. All in in one go.

Kisaki groans as all of his inches effortlessly get swallowed by your cunt, "Fuck, it's tight." He whispers, "Keep grippin' my cock like that and I'll cum inside you." You couldn't help it. He was so.. thick.

As he recollects himself as he begins to move, pleasure engulfing both you and him with each thrust becoming more and more intense as he picked up the speed and strength, you let out uncontrolled weeping moans. You could almost feel Kisaki's egotistical smile as he hears your mewls, letting out some of his sighs and groans with you. "I'll, fuck- ask again, tell me how good my dick feels (Y/N). Tell me." His voice breaks down a bit unable to keep his fierce tone, moving his hand to your throat when he's ignored again, gripping it as he violently thrusts and bucks his hips inside of you, "Tell me now!" He raises his voice a bit more this time, losing grip he moves his hand to push your face onto the ground as he frantically fucks you, he's close.

The movements making you feel brain dead, you finally comply, "Yes... it's- so good, Kisaki.." Your shameful moans make you stutter, as you're close as well. Hearing you finally obey, Kisaki groans as his frenzied movements blow up as his seed spurts inside of your womb, still stroking making sure you're filled to the brim with not chance of spilling his sperm.

"Good girl."

#tokyo revengers #kisaki #tetta kisaki #kisaki x reader #tetta kisaki x reader #tokyo revengers writing #smut #fanfic #kisaki smut #tetta kisaki smut

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jeonqqin · 4 years

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MAN UP™ Masterlist

A final masterlist of all my stories written within the Man Up universe, listed out chronologically and in the order that I would have you read it.

MAN UP.

cast — han jisung, bang chan, lee minho, reader

genre — [f] fluff, [c] crack, [a] angst, [s] smut, brothers best friend au, love triangle au

rated — TV-MA

synopsis — Even with classes, annoying brothers, and an unrequited crush, you still figured your first year of college was going pretty well. Until you managed to get your first boyfriend, and suddenly your brother and his stupidly attractive best friend were attached to your hip for the whole damn ride.

or alternatively;

Why did Jisung care about you so much, and had his eyes always been that pretty?

—episode directory

⊳ ep: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

STOMACHACHE.

cast — hwang hyunjin, reader

genre — [f] fluff, [a] angst, [s] smut, best friends to friends with benefits to lovers au

rated — NC-17

synopsis — Your best friend had never been a sit-down-and-talk kind of guy... at least for as long as you’d known him, and despite that and his promiscuous nature, you loved him more than anything. But it’s a wild proposition that Hyunjin makes that puts your life-long friendship at risk.

or alternatively;

What the hell does it mean when your best friend—your dumb, beautiful best friend—comes up with the idea to have sex?

⊳ watch here

OUTPACED.

cast — lee felix, han jisung, reader

genre — [a] angst, [f] fluff, [s] smut, gaming au, vr (virtual reality) au

rated — R

synopsis — Plauged by a shadow that never disappears, you had never once met someone who was able to counter that—with you always being the downer or the killjoy. It wasn’t what you did or who you were, it was only because of what was wrong with you. People felt bad, and they always would. Until someone doesn’t.

or alternatively;

Who is this guy that you keep running into and why won’t he leave you the hell alone?

⊳ watch here

STAINS.

cast — seo changbin, lee minho, reader

genre — [f] fluff, [a] angst, [s] smut, mechanic au

rated — R

synopsis — You were convinced that you were blessed by the gods to have your car break down in the middle of nowhere, only to have an attractive man fix it up and take you in. You had to be the luckiest girl in the world to be able to watch him work on your shitty car with barely anything covering his arms, and see him every morning coming out of the shower. But, of course, all good things must come to an end, and how do you even know if he’ll ever want to see you again?

or alternatively;

The mystery guy keeps helping you, but what is he actually thinking?

⊳ watch here

STUDY SESSION.

cast — kim seungmin, reader

genre — [s] smut, [f] fluff, tutor au

rated — NC-17

synopsis — It was true that Kim Seungmin was as smart as he was attractive, but that didn’t make up for the fact that he was irritable in every other way known to man. It was all your mother’s fault that he was sitting in your bedroom with you, doing work that he assigned, watching you with his infamous smirk like he owned the place. He knew that he held you in an inescapable clenched fist, and you only hated him more for it.

or alternatively;

The way his smirk has a direct line to your patience as well as your pants just makes you want to kill him. Fuck Kim Seungmin.

⊳ watch here

RUSH HOUR.

cast — yang jeongin, reader

genre — [f] fluff, [s] smut, waiter au, diner au

rated — R

synopsis — The bustle of the crowd and the stress of the mid-day rush was what got you excited to go to work every day. Work was your escape from the hell that was high school, where you never had to worry about being teased and picked on or knocked into a locker in the rush to get out. But your sanctuary was suddenly compromised when the bane of your existence became your co-worker.

or alternatively;

Why did the hottest guy in your school have to start working with you—hold on... Is he still looking at you?

⊳ watch here

SEE YOU.

cast — bang chan, sana minatozaki, reader

genre — [a] angst, [f] fluff, [s] smut, strangers to lovers au, wingman au(???)

rated — TV-MA

synopsis — So he had sworn off relationships—they never worked out for him anyway. It was just too exhausting to be a hopeless romantic all the while being unable to hold a steady relationship, and Chan figured it would just be easier to just stop trying. Even when he saw a sliver of hope and felt the telltale sign of his heart racing, he refused to believe it. Things were always too good to be true.

or alternatively;

Love is just a construct anyway, right?

⊳ ep: 01 | 02

TIME AND TIME AGAIN.

cast — lee minho, reader

genre — [a] angst, [s] smut, ??? au

rated — TV-MA

synopsis — For as long as you remembered, Minho was there. Without a question, he would be at your side and prepared to take on the world. But did you necessarily want him there? Absolutely not.

or alternatively;

Why won’t you just look at him?

⊳ ep: 01 | 02

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consumeconstantly · 4 years

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Those Who Are Kind

1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (you are here) | next

Summary: Siblings are the last thing on Marinette’s mind as she begins her frantic search for Tikki. Really, she can’t even consider them siblings, not yet. But they’re along for the ride, whether she wants them to be or not.

Duke doesn’t know what to make of the current situation.

He’s always known that the Waynes are crazy, insane, even, but he loves them all the same, in the begrudging, cautious way he cannot shake. (This approach has served him well over the years, allowing him to avoid multiple schemes that Tim or Jason typically start up to rile up Damian. From there, everything is guaranteed to snowball. The only time things get really bad is when Cass gets involved.) To him, it’s always been a bit uncanny how similar all the brothers looked, despite the fact that none of them shared blood. All of them had the same sharp jaw, piercing blue eyes, chiselled cheekbones and defined bodies. Only Tim and Damian differed slightly, with Tim having a dancer’s figure instead of that of a body builder or demolitions expert, and Damian having green eyes instead of blue. It’s also disconcerting that everybody the Waynes are more intimately involved with have some sort of alter ego. He often joked with other members of the Justice League that heroism ran in Bruce’s blood.

With the new addition of Marinette to their family, he has to say that he’s been proven right.

A girl who had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes in any capacity other than the fact that she and Bruce share blood becoming a hero. The leader of a team. Fighting supervillains at the age of thirteen.

He’s very, very glad that he was not adopted by or shared blood with Bruce. He doesn’t think he could have handled being a superhero at age thirteen. He can barely handle being Signal now some days, and he’s an adult. The amount of responsibility on Marinette’s shoulders is difficult to understand. To be the sole wielder of magic that can revert an entire city back to its original state. To bring people back from the dead.

Dick is strangely quiet. A car is driving them from a pit stop near a zeta tube to Marinette’s hospital.

Hands down, Dick is the most sane male of the Wayne family, not including Alfred. But there are times when Duke sees the weight that he carries. All the times that he refuses to talk about the burdens that he bears. Moving forward with a smile when he’s in pain. When he gets in a mood like this, he’s hard to read. But given the circumstances, it’s fairly clear exactly what’s bothering him.

“He’s known about her this entire time,” Dick says, tinted windows allowing Duke a glance at his expression, carefully devoid of any telling emotions. “Nineteen years. He kept her a secret.”

“It’s Bruce.” The man is known for keeping secrets.

“Yeah, but Marinette is family. She should have been, at least. And now…”

Now she’s all alone when she should be surrounded by people that love her, praising her for her victory, for how she shouldered so much responsibility at such a young age. But by bringing her to a hospital in America, she’s been cut off from her team, and any support system she should have had is gone.

“You and her,” Duke says, looking for a way to comfort him. “You’ll get along. You’re similar, after all.” After they brought Gabriel and Lila to the a top security prison and sent Emilie to a hospital that couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, they got two files from Tim. One detailing Ladybug and all of her exploits. The second, detailing Marinette’s life.

Duke has watched the videos. Has watched how Ladybug leads by example, comes up with the plan and begins the execution. How she shoulders more battles than she should.

He’s seen Marinette pull people together with a smile on her face, even while she’s running on empty after a strenuous akuma attack.

Dick and Marinette are alike.

“We’re too much alike,” Dick says. “I suspected for a long time that Bruce had another kid that he wasn’t telling us about, but I thought that if he was keeping her away from us, then maybe she’d have a shot at leading a good life. A normal life. Not the one she got. Sabine’s— Bruce’s biological daughter shouldn’t be somebody like me. She deserves better.”

Duke is acutely aware that Dick’s parents were also murdered, but whatever relation he had with Sabine is something he’s never been willing to talk about. There are pictures in his apartment of a petite Asian woman with a soft smile standing next to him, but whenever asked about her, Dick never gives a straight answer.

“Nobody has the ability to change the past.” Duke claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He sags imperceptibly under the weight.

Well— actually, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities, given the fact that magic, aliens, and metahumans all coexisted, supplemented by the fact that multiple members of Marinette’s team do have the ability to travel back in time, but that’s another matter entirely. There’s not a lot of information on the Miraculous, and all of their knowledge is coming from Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Zatara, and even the three of them don’t know everything.

“But you have the chance to do good by her. Be a good older brother, like I know you are.”

A thin smile appears on Dick’s face. “She’s going to need more than just one good influence on her life. And Damian is better, but you saw how he looked at her when Bruce brought her through the Zeta tubes. Tim’s not going to react well either, and Jason is a wild card. She’s not going to get the support she needs if she stays with us.”

Duke crosses his arms, knees brushing up against the back of the car seat. “The only person whose actions you’re responsible for are your own. Don’t worry about them. If they don’t like her, they’ll just avoid her.”

That’s certainly not true— all of the members of the Wayne family are notorious for going hard after all of the things they don’t like. But... it’s comforting to hear. Sometimes temporary and known lies are much nicer than harsh realities.

She’s gone.

All of her belongings are missing, the IV needle is hanging from the stand, the window open, and Marinette is missing from her bed.

At least she left a note?

Be back soon — Marinette

“Great,” Duke mutters under his breath. “Another incredibly vague, cryptic Wayne.”

Dick’s face turns to ash. “Her legs. Her head. She can’t go out so soon. Hold on, maybe Barbara can pull up some footage.”

“On the bright side, there’s no blood,” Duke says.

“That’s not a bright side.”

“It is,” Duke argues. “She fell in the worst places possible, right on top of that broken glass casket. If she’s not bleeding that clearly means she didn’t pull her stitches on her mad escape out.”

When Ladybug fell, they’re not exactly sure what happened, because the screen showed Ladybug collapsing almost gracefully. When they arrived on the scene, she flickered between Ladybug and Marinette as her earrings beeped. Her legs were slashed from falling on the glass with a seemingly unnatural force— simply falling would not have garnered cuts that large— and her head was twisted at an odd angle, debris bloodied beneath her.

Somehow, the Miraculous Cure seemed to be working backwards. Not from the epicenter out, but rather from the edge of the damage, in. It worked slowly, every mile taking minutes instead of mere seconds. It hadn’t happened before in any of the battles.

It was useful in apprehending Hawkmoth and Pavona, who were still knocked out. But Marinette, even after the Miraculous Cure washed over her, didn’t get healed. Her injuries didn’t revert. There was still a gash on her stomach from Hawkmoth’s cane, still muscles exposed on the back of her legs and blood on her neck. When she was first brought in, the doctors feared that she may be permanently incapacitated.

Good at keeping to her word at least. She came swinging through the window with worry on her face and grief in her eyes.

“I need to go back to Paris,” she says.

Dick will undoubtedly say no. He’s a very protective person, and Marinette is the center of his current efforts.

But she doesn’t look injured. He eyes her stance. She’s standing with no effort, walks with no limp. No hospital dress, no blood on her neck, no bruises in all of the places he was expecting them to be. Marinette does not look like she just faced a world ending threat less than twenty four hours ago. She certainly doesn’t look like she’s permanently lost the use of her legs. There’s the familiar Wayne Brand Stubbornness in her eyes— no way she’s not Bruce’s kid— that tells him that she’s going to get to Paris one way or another, and that they’re either lucky they were even notified in the first place or that she wants to use a resource that they have that she does not have access to. It’s fairly obvious what that resource is, considering that Paris is nine hours away by any normal plane and it sounds like she wants to get there in minutes, and not hours. Duke also knows that if they don’t take what she’s offering now, she’ll use an alternative method that definitely won’t be as nice or clear cut.

He jumps in before Dick can say anything. “We’ll take you as long as we go with you every step of the way.”

Oh, he’s going to get in so much trouble for doing this. Dick is looking at him with his Disapproving Dad glare, and he can imagine Bruce going into brooding silence when he hears that Duke allowed this to happen.

Marinette’s lips pinch together, but she nods. “Where’s the nearest zeta tube?”

Barbara gets Dick’s text and sighs in frustration.

She’s already got her hands full with watching Tim, who’s spiralling trying to find information about the Miraculous, muttering under his breath in the way he does when he gets a particularly hard case to crack. He’s gone through six cups of coffee in the last hour, and he kicked off his research with a combination of 5 Hour Energy, Monster, three packets of sugar, and 10 caffeine shots. Soon, she’ll have to start limiting his caffeine intake, but right now it’s clear that any attempt to get him to stop his research now will fail spectacularly. At least she’s not in charge of Damian and Jason. Wherever they are, they’re definitely on the move and not happy.

She never thought she'd be able to say she’s happy about being paralyzed from the waist down, but she certainly doesn’t want to be chasing after one of the two hellions. Cass definitely has her hands full and whoever’s watching Jason— wait, is anybody even watching Jason? Typically Roy gets stuck with Jason-sitting duty, but he’s been out for a while.

Barbara groans. Jason is probably on his own, wreaking havoc.

Great.

She’ll deal with that later, even though she has no doubt she’ll regret that decision, but if Marinette is gone from her room, Dick needs the footage, and somebody needs to find where she is. The nurse put in her latest report that her legs were almost healed and that she didn’t show any signs of a concussion, but Marinette was in bad shape when she got admitted to the hospital. Even though Barbara doubts that there was any misdiagnosis, given that Bruce sprung for a VIP room in one of the pricier hospitals, in a world where magic and aliens are present, who knows what’s true or not.

“Tibet!” Tim jumps up from his hunched over position for the first time in hours. “I’m going to Tibet, the closest zeta tubes are three hours by car away, but I can get somebody to loan Wayne Industries a helicopter while I’m over there.”

“Sit down, Tim.” Barbara takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose. Why can’t Bruce rein in his children? Why is she the one stuck babysitting? “Marinette left her hospital room.”

That certainly gets Tim to put the brakes on his movements towards the zeta tube in the bat cave.

“What?”

“I said, she left her hospital room. Just sit down while I send the information over. It’s not going to do you any good to rush into things anyways.”

A quick review of the surrounding CCTV shows that Marinette didn’t travel far, just around the hospital. She’s looking for something, calling out for it, too. Barbara grabs that file and slows it down so she can read her lips. “Dickie? Do she and Dick know each other already?”

A quick text back to Dick reveals that Marinette has already returned to the room and—

Oh, hell.

“Well,” Barbara pushes her laptop away from her, letting Tim watch the files she’s pulled up. “It looks like we’re taking a family trip to Paris.”

Somehow, Marinette almost manages to lose all four of them within the first four minutes of roaming around Paris.

Luckily, their family has an almost absurd amount of luck between all of them (not all of it good) and the person Barbara was half sure she could only find in prison, beating up Hawkmoth and Pavona, runs into Marinette on the streets and herds her back to them.

“Lose something?” Jason asks, arm slung around Marinette’s shoulder, the smaller, younger girl looking rather upset at having her plans thrown off.

“I told them that they could follow me,” Marinette argues without much real bite. It’s not my fault if they can’t keep up, is the clear meaning of her statement.

Again, Barbara is very impressed that the barely nineteen year old somehow managed to shake off vigilantes with decades of experience with ease. But it is, at least, partially due to her disability. Every time she goes out in her wheelchair, her heart aches a little, especially as the civilians she passes eye her with pity. Barbara doesn’t want pity. Doesn’t need pity. She shouldn’t feel anything when people look at her like she can’t keep up, because she can keep up.

Most of the time, anyways.

It doesn’t matter how she uses her tech skills to modify her wheelchair and deck it out with all the equipment she could ever need, or that she can easily get up to speeds rivalling sports cars for short periods of time before the power runs out. When she’s stuck in her wheelchair, she loses the maneuverability she had when she wasn’t paralyzed.

She couldn’t follow Marinette through the alleyways because she was stuck. Barbara was the one who noticed her escape first. If only she were more capable, she could have—

But it’s okay now. Jason ran into her. Marinette is back with them.

“I need to search for something, and none of you can help.” She’s not intentionally being rude when she says it, and if anything, sounds apologetic. Barbara sees the similarities between Marinette and Bruce. It makes a lot of sense that the two of them are father and daughter, when the two of them are so insistent on keeping major issues to themselves. Marinette twists herself out from underneath Jason’s arm, clutching her purse. Her head doesn’t move, but her eyes are wild.

“We can help,” soothes Duke, ever the voice of reason. “You know who we are.”

“And I’m guessing you’ve all either deduced who I am or have been told my identity,” counters Marinette. “Which means you should know why I can’t have you helping me.”

Barbara and Duke exchange pointed glances.

“That’s not really clear to us, actually,” says Barbara. Marinette isn’t moving, but the way her shoulders tense makes her believe that the younger girl is ready to run at the drop of a hat.

A small group of people from the parade on the streets tumbles into the alleyway they’re resting in. They smell like cheap booze and sweat.

“What are all of you doing in this alley?” one says, after he finished vomiting up his last (very colorful) meal. “You should be out there partying with the rest of us! Celebrating Ladybug and her team.”

“Fuck Hawkmoth and Pavona,” says another solemnly, with neon face paint and pigtails with glitter string intertwined. “Their defeat should be celebrated by even the darkest souls.”

Jason, easily amused by their antics, looks very willing to join them. “Yeah Marinette, we should be celebrating Ladybug not—”

As one, everybody looks at the place where Marinette was, just moments ago. The alley is decidedly empty of a small asian girl with blue eyes and pigtails.

“Fuck,” Jason curses.

“Fuck is right,” Duke agrees, placing a hand over his temple.

Marinette manages to disappear for three hours.

Three full hours.

“She’s good,” Tim says, typing into the holographic computer embedded into his sleeve.

Paris’ CCTVs are painfully easy to hack into, though he suspects that the lack of attention to them may have to do with the fact that everybody in the city is celebrating. Policemen, politicians, artists, students, scientists— people from all walks of life are in the streets today, screaming and shouting and being free for the first time in years.

He spies more than just a few dozen people bawling their eyes out within a few minutes. But that’s not surprising, considering how long Parisians have had to suppress their emotions for.

Dick and Barbara are still in the midst of profiling Marinette, trying to determine the most likely places where she’d stop by, either as Ladybug or herself. All of Ladybug’s usual haunts are decidedly devoid of the young heroine, though Tim does manage to catch a good amount of footage of the other young heroes like Carapace and Rena Rouge, who are most definitely in a relationship based on their makeout session on top of the eiffel tower (one of the first places Tim checked), Viperion, who seems to be the only one from Ladybug’s team to be seeking out the crowd which seems rather atypical considering that the hero never frequented interviews or was spotted on news coverage all that frequently, and Chat Noir and Queen Bee who Jason insisted were in a relationship as well, though the rest of them believed they were only embracing each other out of comfort— Chat Noir looks like he’s been crying for hours, and Queen Bee looks like she’s barely holding it together.

Ryuko has not shown up on camera once today. Neither has Ladybug.

The second place Tim checks is the bakery. She is not there either, though another girl is. It doesn’t seem like the girl has any ill intent, but Duke is more than happy to pull up past files to see if she’s been there before, if she has any reason to be there, and who exactly she is.

Just as Barbara and Dick are debating the chances that Marinette would be at Le Grande Paris, she walks past one of the cameras focused on Tom & Sabine’s Boulangerie. Tim has the system rigged up so that any facial matches for Marinette automatically alerts the room. He hadn’t been able to replicate that with Ladybug’s face for some bizarre reason which is why he, Barbara, Dick, and Jason are manually combing through the areas where Dick and Barbar think she may be (magic is why, but Tim has always believed that technology can be used against and with most forms of magic) so it’s lucky that she enters as Marinette.

“Kagami Tsurugi,” Duke says triumphantly. “She visited often when Tom and Sabine were still alive. Potential candidate to represent France or Japan for Sabre in the next Olympics. Definitely friends with Marinette.”

“Thank God,” sighs Dick. “Now let’s get over there.”

It’s truly, truly unfortunate that they set up shop quite a distance away from the bakery.

They take too long to arrive.

Perhaps it was a mistake, telling Kagami first.

No, not just perhaps. It was a mistake. A bad one.

But Kagami was pushing so hard, and Marinette was so tired and so alone without Tikki at her side, without the knowledge that her parents would be waiting for her. Kagami pushed and pushed and pushed about why the house felt so empty, why there was dust on the floor, why the bakery was closed for so long, and where were Tom and Sabine? Why weren’t they there for the team yesterday, when the battle was won, when they knew how important it was to be there for Adrien who had just lost all three of his parental figures?

The moment the words fall from Marinette's lips, she knows she shouldn’t have revealed it at that moment, because Kagami draws in on herself, lips turning downwards, hands curling into fists.

Kagami has come a long way from the girl she was in lycèe. The thrill of victory is still something she enjoys, but not something she needs to feel secure in her place in the world. She has trouble expressing her emotions, but when it comes down to it, she communicates everything necessary to understand why.

With the news of Tom and Sabine’s death, she withdraws into herself, shifts back into that thirteen year old Marinette first met. Logic and rationale thrown to the wind in favor of cold anger.

It’s no secret that Ryuko, Ladybug, and Viperion are the main strategists of their team. Viperion, out of his duty of using Second Chance and his ability to keep a level head in the face of constant death. Ladybug out of necessity as her position as team leader and the power of Lucky Charm. Theoretically, the two of them should have been enough. But over the years, Kagami became Marinette's favored confidante; though Ladybug trusts all of her team to keep a tight hold on any information she gives them, Kagami is one of the few who is able to pick apart a given situation and transform the monsters they face into manageable pieces.

Today, it is Kagami who has broken to pieces. Very angry, razor sharp shards that seek to hurt.

“You lie to the media, tell them a pretty tale of how they died due to a break in. Why do you avoid pinning their deaths on Lila as you should? To absolve a quality woman from guilt?”

Marinette can’t look Kagami in the eyes.

Her parents deserved a peaceful death. To pass on in old age, hand in hand. Not looking on as a family member died, in fear of what would happen next for their daughter.

“The police know. The judges know,” Marinette protests weakly, but without much eight behind her words.

Kagami just scoffs. “Tom and Sabine were kind people. To not tell the media what truly happened— that’s preventing Lila from getting the full force of what’s coming to her. What happens if she gets out of prison one day? Without any real deaths to her name, she could just flee to another country to escape it all. And when another person loses their life because of her…”

She doesn’t need to finish her sentence. If somebody else gets injured in any way, shape or form at the hands of Lila Rossi, it’s Marinette’s fault. Marinette gets what Kagami is trying to say. She thinks the same thing, after all.

“My parents would not want their death publicized in that manner.” It’s the truth, but it’s said so weakly that the words come off as little more than a weak defense, and Kagami takes the words and twists their truth.

“You know little of your parents, considering that you’re their daughter.” Kagami stands stock still, not a single extra muscle moving. “Perhaps if you spent more time with them as Marinette instead of unsuccessfully gallivanting around as Ladybug, you’d have realized that Tom and Sabine admire truth above all else, even if it is painful.”

Kagami does not ask a single question about where Marinette was last night, or how Marinette felt over the loss of her parents or when she saw all those she held dear lying still on the ground after Hawkmoth and Pavona’s final attacks. She just purses her lips and sweeps out the door.

And then she’s gone, and Marinette is alone once more.

The bakery is bone-achingly quiet.

Every step Marinette takes creates such a disturbance in the peace that moving hurts.

But she can’t stay here. She can’t stay here. She does not deserve to stay here. Kagami is right. Marinette was a bad daughter. She could have prevented their death, could have given them justice sooner, could have—

And Marinette can’t breathe. She tries to, she tries so hard to, but she chokes.

She kneels down on the floor— Kagami is right again, the place is dusty, because Marinette couldn’t bring herself to use the living room and kitchen without her parents, could barely bring herself to sleep in her bedroom because she knew that her parents were not sleeping soundly in the bed below hers— and scrabbles at her throat, vision coming in and out.

Her legs burn. She knows that during the final battle, her legs were cut towards the end of it, and they should be healed, she should be okay now, she’s better than this, she’s—

Somebody gathers her in their arms. They smell slightly of Lotus flowers, just like Maman, and cradle her ever so gently.

Marinette’s eyes open— black hair, greyish eyes filled with understanding and love and—

She can breathe again.

She falls asleep.

“Cass?” Dick’s eyes widen at her unexpected appearance at Marinette’s home.

“I thought you were on Damian guard duty,” Barbara says, fixating on the red around Marinette’s eyes and the barely dried tear tracks on her face.

“Where’s that Kagami girl?” Jason scuffs his shoes on the hardware floor, silently marking the footprints on the floor and getting a general idea of what occurred before they were able to get here based on Marinette’s current state and the other girl’s absence. “I want to have some words with her.”

Cass inclines her head sharply, eye sparking with anger. Jason’s fists rise unconsciously— Cass rarely gets angry, and whenever she gets angry at a specific person, that means they’ve done something very, very wrong— ready to hunt down Kagami. Marinette sniffles and shifts in Cass’ one armed embrace, to which Cass places a finger over her lip and shakes her head, a universal sign to be quiet.

Jason scowls but settles down.

They’re quiet as they wait for Marinette to wake.

@biodad-bruce-month

Maribat tag list(to be added onto this pls send me an ask/dm): @our-precipreciousss @my-dear-friend-anxiety

Who Are You (and what will you become) tag list (to be added here just comment): @anjuschiffer @theunquiet-dead @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @cresentmo0n @allulily @myazael @zalladane @rebecarojas07 @keepingupwiththemalfoys @frieddonutsweets @all-mights-asscheeks @thornalchemist23 @trippingovermyfeet @jiso-lee @redscarlet95 @ira-sairain @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @ramos123 @cutechip @theunquiet-dead @sleep-deprived-aroace @enternalempires @lilkymilky @woe-is-me0 @officiallydarkgeek @miyla-lokidottir @queencommonsense @demonicbusiness @iamablinkmarvelarmy

@emark7 (i will have the edited version of these on ao3 eventually but i think the link to ch 1 on this one works)

where i ended this doesn’t feel very good but ehhhhhhhhhh my writing process is summary then word vomit that barely correlates which means nothing makes sense unless i edit but looking back at my work makes me cringe so at a crossroads yayyy

also can you guys tell which prompts ive written these for because i’m curious

#bio!dad bruce wayne month 2020 #bio!dad bruce #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #duke thomas #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #barbara gordon #tim drake #cassandra cain #batfam

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fatefulfaerie · 3 years

Text

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know”

Febuwhump prompt #10/28

Franchise: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of Wild university AU by the wonderful, magical @snickerduu like honestly don’t even read this just go follow them

Word Count: 1,454

“So,” Link said as he handed her the cone of ice cream he had bought her, a heap of strawberry ice cream piled on the top. “You’re a biology major, huh?”

His fingers had brushed hers as he gave it to her, but he tried not to blush, sitting down with his own cone packed with peanut butter ice cream.

“How did you know that?” Zelda asked with a smile. Link looked over with a similar expression, the natural upwards curve of his lips showing his happiness with his present company.

“The flash cards?” Link tried to remind her. “On the subway? Last week when we met. I trust you haven’t forgotten already.”

“Of course not,” Zelda insisted. “I could never forget my knight in shining armor, waking me up at the correct stop. I would have missed my exam if not for you.”

Link chuckled.

“And your shoulder made a pretty comfortable pillow, too,” Zelda continued, bumping Link’s shoulder playfully.

They both laughed before entering the tentative, pondering, and shy silence that comes with all first dates, licking their ice cream on the bench they sat. Link in particular was trying to find any topic of conversation to make him worth her time, but it seemed she beat him to it.

“What is your major?” Zelda asked.

“Undeclared,” Link said, turning to face her with on knee bent against the back of the bench and the other leg straight and dangling off it. “I’m sort of just going through the GEs while I figure out the answer to the big ‘What do you wanna do when you grow up?’ question,” Link chuckled and Zelda found herself absolutely loving the noise. “I haven’t exactly figured it out yet.”

“That’s okay,” Zelda said in reply, now facing Link as well, except her legs were crossed in front of her. “You’ll sort it out when the time is right. Do you have any hobbies? Things that interest you?”

“I basically play every sport under the sun,” Link said. “But that’s just because I like to keep active. It’s never been a career thing for me.”

“Honestly, I envy you,” Zelda said. “I find myself with a serious lack of hobbies at all. I suppose I lack the courage to try some.”

“I like cooking too,” Link said. “You could try that. It isn’t too hard and it’s like science…but fun.”

“Science is fun.”

“If you say so,” Link said just before Zelda grabbed the side of her arm with sudden and heavy breaths, eyes frolicking with panic and ice cream splattered on the floor.

“Zelda?” Link asked, a similar worry in his expression. “What’s wrong?”

Zelda was literally gasping for air, Link standing up and trying to figure out what was wrong with impatient, scanning eyes and timid hands.

“Bee,” she barely managed. “Allergic.”

“What can I do?” Link asked immediately.

Zelda shook her head, Link refusing to believe that he really could do nothing when she was literally dying in front of him. But that was exactly what she meant as she quickly rummaged through her small pastel blue purse with a golden chain still around her shoulder. She pulled out a small cylindrical object that Link had never seen before. Zelda aimed it near her thigh.

“Zelda, what are you doing?” Link asked. Zelda closed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“No!” Link yelled as she stabbed the cylinder into the side her of thigh. But, instead of roaring with pain like Link expected, she instead started to breath easier, withdrawing the cylinder. She placed it back in her small purse as she slowly reclaimed normal breaths, head drooped around the back of the bench, eyes on the sun, the leaves of the trees, the blue sky and the small birds.

“I’m allergic to bee stings,” Zelda explained.

“Zelda, I…” Link said, “I…I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have asked you to the park.”

“Could you call UPD?” Zelda asked, almost interrupting him. The lack of accepting his apology worried him until he figured that perhaps he didn’t deserve an acceptance from her. “I’m fine for now, but I should get to the clinic on campus. I can’t drive in my condition.”

“Yeah…yeah, of course,” Link said, scrolling through his contacts as he sat back down on the bench. This was the first time he had actually called the university police department since they told him to put it in his phone on orientation day last month. At the time, he wondered what on earth he would use it for, but put it in anyway. As he clicked on the number and heard his phone ring, he actually silently thanked that boring orientation session for at least one beneficial thing.

“Yeah, hi,” Zelda heard after a few moments. “I’m a student at Hyrule State University Necluda. I’m with another student who just got stung by a bee and has an allergy. She poked herself with some plastic thing…oh is that what it’s called? Anyway she used her epi…whatever you said, but she says she still needs to get to the clinic on campus…Yes! A ride! That would be great! We’re at Blatchery Park. Okay…okay…yeah, yeah that’s fine, thank you so much!”

“They’re on their way,” Link said, turning to Zelda, who was still looking up at the sky. Link worried that she was mad at him, and so he tried to lighten the mood.

“I’ll fight any bees that try to assault you again, I promise.”

Zelda cracked a smile.

“Aren’t you a real Necluda Knight?” Zelda said in jest, Link absolutely thrilled she that didn’t seem to be mad at him. “You should sign up to be the mascot. Walk around in that heavy armor at all the games.”

Link laughed.

“Not a chance,” he said.

They engaged in conversation until the transport came, taking both of them back to campus.

Zelda expected Link to go about the rest of his day when she went through the doors of the clinic.

But, an hour later she found him sitting on the curb looking out at the horizon. Her cheeks blushed and she knew for certain that she really did like this guy. She knew love wasn’t something that came too quickly, but she could see herself loving him eventually.

“Are you okay?” She asked him, Link turning his head immediately around and standing up messily quickly.

“Hey!” He said as he jogged towards her. “That’s my line.”

Zelda shrugged playfully.

“I thought I would beat you to it,” she said.

“But you are okay, right?” Link asked, concerned.

“Yes,” Zelda said. “Of course. The doctor said I’m in perfect health. The epinephrine did just fine, but he was glad I came in anyway just in case.”

Zelda took Link’s hand.

“I wanted to thank you,” Zelda said. “I was going to text you later but since you’re right here, I just want you to know how grateful I am for your help. I think I was too busy managing my symptoms and trying to breathe earlier to really convey that.”

“It was really no problem,” Link said. “I’m glad I could help, but…”

Link seemed to hesitate.

“I’m sorry this wasn’t much of a first date,” Link said. “I understand if you don’t want another, but…well…I actually really like you and—“

Zelda interrupted him with a kiss, one he was more than happy to reciprocate, only the moonlight to bear witness where they stood on this empty campus. There was an odd yell from one of the nearby dorms but they both knew that as part of the university ambience by now. Zelda in particular remembered a night where she couldn’t focus on studying because a group of intoxicated males where roaming the halls singing off-key the latest hit song from that tacky pop rock musician Robbie Cherry.

But this moment was so much more important, her heart filling with warmth and her lips obsessed with his until they mutually withdrew with smiles and melted eyes.

“Are you free Friday night?” Link asked.

Zelda nodded.

“Good,” he said. “I’ve got a hobby of mine for you to explore. I’ll take you down the list. See what you like.”

“Any hints?” Zelda asked playfully.

Link twisted his lips, looking up at the moonlight.

“Dress sharp,” he said before pecking her cheek and taking her hand into his.

He walked her to her dorm thinking of all the hobbies he would run her through, all the moments he would love to share with her, in particular the first one on his last and how he couldn’t wait to dance with her this coming Friday.

#febuwhump #febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday10 #tloz #botw #the legend of zelda #breath of the wild #hope you guys like it #zelink

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higuchimon · 3 years

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[fanfic] Osiris Red Hot Springs

i"Come on!" Juudai dragged on Manjoume's coat. Manjoume tried to pry him off but he wasn't having a great deal of luck with it. Juudai seemed more like an octopus than anything else, grabbing and insisting that Manjoume come along with him.

"What are you talking about?" Manjoume grumbled. He'd intended to stay in his room and get some rest. Unfortunately, he'd needed to go out and get food since Osiris Red didn't offer room service like a reasonable dorm. He'd barely started to eat what they'd served him - did it really count as food? - before Juudai popped up, babbled something about showing him the "hidden wonders of Osiris Red" and dragged him away.

"Didn't you hear me?" Juudai's eyes twinkled at him. Manjoume didn't think anyone's eyes could have twinkled, but Juudai's did. Not a single bit of brains in there, but plenty of fluff, and more than enough strength to haul him along to wherever Juudai wanted to go. "We're going to see the hidden wonders of Osiris Red! Have you ever been to the hot springs?"

"Of course I have!" Manjoume snorted. He would have crossed his arms over his chest if Juudai didn't have a grip on his arm. "The Obelisk Blue hot springs are some of the best hot springs ever!" He would know. He'd been to some of the most fantastic hot springs in all of Japan. Obelisk Blue's springs ranked in the top five in his opinion.

"Not those!" Juudai waved his free hand dismissively, as if the Obelisk Blue hot springs weren't worth his time. Clearly he'd never seen them. "I mean the Osiris Red hot springs!"

There were several springs on the island. Two for the Blue dorm, one for the Yellow dorm, and Manjoume guessed it wasn't such a strange idea that Red also had one. There were plenty of them on the island in general. There was even two in the main building itself, one near the infirmary and one somewhere else, for the teachers. The other hot springs were reserved for specific dorms. The one near the infirmary could be accessed by anyone at all, regardless of dorm. He'd visited it once or twice, but he'd always preferred using the Obelisk Blue hot springs.

But right now, Manjoume's lip curled faintly. "What's so special about that?" He could imagine what it would be like. Just because it was a hot spring didn't mean that it would be what he was used to - a beautiful work of art, with polished statues and spigots emitting a variety of lovely scents and soaps and lotions, with many helpful attendants who'd scrubbed his back, scrubbed between his toes, and offered a vast array of snacks and drinks to choose from while he'd enjoyed himself, as well as soft, heated, and scented towels. He'd spent many lovely hours in there, soaking up water and sunlight alike. It was even better than at home. He was going to miss not being able to go there.

What would the Osiris Red springs be like? Small, he decided, and probably dark. Busted light bulbs and it probably hadn't been properly scrubbed in a while. He'd seen the Osiris Red showers and they were tolerable. Someone clearly went to a lot of effort to keep them clean, though Manjoume had no idea of why. They were Red. No one would care if it all piled up. Someone probably just didn't want to go to the extra effort that would result by ignoring it.

Juudai kept on dragging him through the trees. Manjoume tried to get his arm free but nothing he did actually worked. He probably could have tried harder, but the farther they went into the woods, the harder it was to see where they were going. He didn't have the faintest idea of where they were going and unfortunately, Juudai's grip on his arm was the only thing that kept him from being utterly lost.

"Where are you taking me?" Manjoume finally snapped out the question. He wasn't sure if he expected a proper answer or not. "This isn't where the hot springs are!" Though to be fair, he didn't really know where they were. He just sort of knew they existed. But he did know they weren't half an hour’s walk into the woods!

"I told you!" Juudai declared. "It's the Osiris Red hot springs." He made a face, something like what Manjoume thought he looked like when Juudai turned up at his door. "Not those tiny ones, though. That's boring."

Oh, no. Manjoume groaned quietly. Juudai was taking him somewhere else. No one else knew they were out here. Marufuji was busy studying - he needed all the help he could get - and Maeda was drawing or something. Manjoume wasn't at all sure why he was drawing, but because he was, it was just the two of them out here. That wasn't how Manjoume looked forward to spending any amount of time.

Before he could stop long enough to express his distaste for that, Juudai lifted a branch out of the way and Manjoume could see clear space beyond. After grass tufts catching his feet and twigs and branches lodging themselves in his hair, bugs helping themselves to his sweat and trying to do the same to his blood, he couldn't have been more glad to see a clearing. Instead of holding back, he surged forward, going past Juudai and stumbling to a halt.

"Here we are!" Juudai declared, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the whole area, and even worse, as if he'd invented this entire place out of whole cloth. "This is the official Osiris Red hot springs! At least as far as I'm concerned."

Manjoume slowly looked around. The hot springs on Duel Academia that he knew something about were all enclosed in buildings of various sorts. They had windows and doors. Obelisk Blue had rugs in the antechamber.

This place didn't. This was a wide pool set beside some moss-covered cliffs. He could hear water falling from somewhere out of sight. Large rocks rose out of the steaming water and there was a spread of sand on one side that would do for a beach.

There were several rocks close enough to climb on and still be in the water. Manjoume looked all the way around as slanted rays of sunlight arched into the area, sending up sparkles from the water as they struck it. If he hadn't known better, he would have actually called it beautiful. But he wasn't going to call it beautiful if Juudai liked it. Juudai didn't have taste. If he liked it, there was clearly something wrong with this place. Manjoume just didn't know what it was yet.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered, gripping onto the towel Juudai had tossed to him when first taking him on this wild ride. He knew his luck wasn't that good, though, not when Juudai merrily tossed his clothes off and died into the wide pool - perhaps more accurately called a lake. He looked as if he were actually happy doing this, instead of being in a proper hot springs! Had Juudai ever been to a proper hot springs? Probably not.

There wasn't any soap that he could see. The only towels were the ones that they'd brought with them. Certainly not a single attendant to wash between his toes or wash his hair or do anything. He'd been getting more used to doing things himself and he rather liked the feeling that came with learning to do for himself. His brothers would never approve. Yet day by day he cared less and less what they thought. There wasn't much that they could do regardless. Try as they might, they couldn't even cut him off from his share of the money. Their parents' will made sure that was impossible.

He could have bought all those cards that they'd wanted to give him. He could have bought virtually any card that he wanted - he tried not to think about their ill-fated attempt to purchase the legendary Gem Beast deck - but that didn't make a good duelist. He'd learned that the long, slow, and hard way. What made a great duelist was the ability to forge winning combos from nothing at all.

He was getting very good at that. He was a good duelist. He was going to be a great one. He would be better than they ever dreamed of, and they would beg for his help instead of assuming that they would get it no matter what. Even better, he might not give it to them.

"Come on, Manjoume!" Juudai waved at him, pulling Manjoume out of his thoughts before he could fully be absorbed into his fantasy of his brothers begging for his talents. "Come on in, the water's fine! We can wash each other's back later! I haven't seen the bear around here in ages!"

Manjoume snorted as he headed towards the water. As if he'd ever wash Juudai's back or let Juudai wash his own. One good bath and that would be it. Maybe a little sunning afterwards. He'd gotten a little paler on his trip up north.

But nothing else. He could learn things in Red, but this was only a single stopping point on his way back to Blue.

Then he stopped. "Juudai? Did you say bear?"

The End

Notes: No, Manjoume didn’t get eaten by the bear. Neither did Juudai. The bear is friendly.

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #ygo gx #gxmonth2021 #manjoume jun #yuuki juudai

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skellebonez · 3 years

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Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks

Hey. So. Remember THIS fill from like... a week and a half ago? Because of the comments I received I decided to rewrite it as a multi-chapter fic. The first chapter has the same premise but is completely written (barring a couple lines) and has many new scenes. Like a hint as to where the trio is maybe?

AO3 Link!

Summary: It had been over a year since MK had become the Monkie Kid. Months since Mei formed an unlikely bond with the Monkey King. Fewer months since Red Son had defected from his parents and was desperate to prove to everyone he could change a second time. In all that time a routine was set, communication alleys were formed, and agreements were made. Things had been going well.

Now the trio was missing without a single clue to where they had gone. And they weren't the only ones.

Warnings: None for this chapter, but perhaps mind the tags on AO3 for future ones.

Chapter 1: Thunder and Lightning

They were late. They had made sure to remind him of their plans multiple times last night... and they were late.

Sun Wukong, The Monkey King himself, would have been starting to get angry if he wasn't so worried. He wouldn't be surprised if Mei was late, it wasn't odd for her get distracted by some new thing she wanted to show him and take the time to get it before coming by. But Red Son and MK as well? That wasn't normal. MK had only been late to training once, that had been during the entire incident with Macaque training tricking him (they don't talk about that anymore), but even then he wasn't this late. Not to mention Red Son's thickheaded determination to show off just how serious he was about joining their side. He'd made promise after promise and did his best to keep his word in attempt to impress them, even going as far as going far over and earlier than what he promised.

The three of them were supposed to come to Flower Fruit Mountain for the day. Some training for MK, video games with Mei, and Red Son just tagging along so someone could keep an eye on the new comer (by Red Son's own insistence). They never showed. Didn't even send him an e-mail. He'd waited almost a hour, a personal record for patience, but not a peep from any of them. Something was wrong.

That was why he found himself standing outside of Pigsy's Noodles in the middle of the day disguised as a human, tail wrapped around his waist as a "stylish belt". Though, in retrospect, a mysterious man with flawless eyeliner falling from the sky without a single injury was not the most inconspicuous way to arrive. He didn't take the time to think about that, instead entering the noodle shop with a hastiness in his step he couldn't hide.

"Welcome to Pigsy's Noodles, home of the lon-oh..." The chipper greeting from the shop owner was cut off, a mix of annoyance and confusion taking over the tone. Pigsy looked over the counter at him and the ever present Tang turned around in suit. "It's just you. Ain't you supposed to be not here? With the trio?"

"Yeah," Wukong started, laughing oddly as he rubbing the back of his neck. There was an awkwardness he wished he could get rid of, something that didn't really belong on him. But things had always been tense between him and his once-younger brother and the tenseness had only grown since their separation after the journey. After he trapped the Demon Bull King. After he vanished for 500 years... after he came back. "See, funny story about that! I was waiting for them and you know how impatient I am but I was doing my best to not be so I waited for almost an hour and they kinda never... showed up?"

"What do you mean never showed up?" Pigsy questioned carefully, coming around he counter and brandishing a ladle in one hand.

"They did leave pretty late," Tang offered quickly, awkward smile showing he could sense the tension between the two old friends. "Red Son was fixing some of the equipment in the kitchen, maybe they ran into a demon and are on their way to the island right now! Maybe you just... missed them?"

"Yeah!" Wukong agreed immediately, laughing harder to hide his worry. Tang didn't seem convinced by his own explanation but Wukong as more willing to believe that without question than think about what the alternative could mean. "Yeah, that's probably it! I'm sure they're just fine, but if it makes you feel better I'm going to take a look around. If they make it there before I do they're sure to come home when they realize I didn't wait for them. Yup, totally sure of it. BYE!"

He ran out the door, jumping on his cloud faster than anyone could follow and took off in the direction of his home. He didn't miss the odd frown on Pigsy's face at his overly quick reaction.

----------

They weren't anywhere he could see on the way to Flower Fruit Mountain. They weren't on the island or in any of the surrounding areas. There were no boats or any sign of a pogo ride on the staff on the sandy beach. There was just... nothing.

He only waited for another 10 minutes before the concern (not worry, he was not worried the three were very capable adults despite him thinking of them as his kids kids, one was even an ancient demon who nearly bested him centuries ago for Heaven's sake) took over once again and his somersault cloud was getting more distance this day that it had in years. He zipped back and forth over the ocean, looking for any sign of bodies people, boats, anything, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he found absolutely nothing in the calm and clear water. But this only raised more questions. They had left Pigsy's, there were witnesses, but had they made it to- Sandy! He was so focused on them coming by that he forgot how they would get there!

----------

"I'm sorry, elder brother," Sandy said with a frown. "They weren't going to come by today, see?" He held up his phone, way too small for his massive hands, a text from Mei reading "Took ur boat yestday, srry! Will return tmm! *heart heart heart cat*" Well. That at least explained how they were supposed to get there without going to Sandy.

The Monkey King, changed back to his usual form, took a half shaky breath and sipped the tea the fish demon had offered him the moment he opened the door. Mo sat in his lap, purring softly as he no doubt sensed the tension in the air. "Then where are they..?" He wondered out loud. He hadn't seen one of Sandy's boats anywhere, they stuck out like a big blue sore thumb just like his still-younger brother.

"I don't know," Sandy answered, standing and stretching before giving the shorter man a wide smile. "But I'll do anything to help!"

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He'd returned to Pigsy's shop immediately after that, not bothering to change back into his human disguise. That took so little energy and time but it was still energy and time he didn't want to waste. It had just started to sprinkle rain, the weather station having planned this for some time now. He had sent Sandy out to check all the waterways in the area, just to be safe, and he hoped that his search would be fruitless. He really hoped he sent Sandy on a wild goose chase...

"Are they back?" He demanded the second he opened the door, startling the 2 customers in the shop in addition to Tang and Pigsy. "Pigsy, Tang, did they come back?"

The dawning worry on the two men's faces was enough of an answer for Wukong to immediately run out, ignoring the shouts that followed him as he flew off again.

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It was starting to rain harder. They weren't at Mei's house.

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It was starting to downpour. He didn't see them at any of the food stalls.

----------

The downpour worsened. They weren't at the anti-gravity arcade.

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It was a torrential downpour. Red Son's apartment was empty.

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There was electricity in the air. They hadn't been taken to the hospital.

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Thunder and lightning. He carefully flew around DBK and PIF's hideout. He heard them talking about their next plan to "knock sense" into their son. They weren't there.

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It was when he was nearly struck by lightning, nothing that would have actually caused him real harm but would have hurt like he'd been hit by a truck, that Sun Wukong finally decided that he wasn't going to find the trio. Not like this. Running around without a plan was not helping. He wouldn't find his kids like this.

So he made his way back to Pigsy's, soaked to the bone and brain fuzzy. Numb almost, not from the cold but in a mental exhaustion he couldn't explain. He walked in with his head down, dripping icy water from his fur, and was greeting with an almost as cold hiss before he could say anything.

"Where are my kids, Wukong?"

He looked up and took in the sight before him. Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, and Mo were all gathered in the shop. He hadn't even noticed it was closed until that moment. Sandy had a towel over his shoulders, as did the little blue cat, and they sat sipping a bowl of hot broth each.

"You said they'd come home. So, where are they?"

Wukong grit his teeth, continuing to avert his eyes from the furious gaze of his once-brother. "Idon'tknow..."

"What was that?" Pigsy almost yelled, stepping forward to grab he tails of his soaked cloak to drag hi down to eye level. "You said they'd come home! Where the FUCK are my kids, Sun Wukong!?"

"I don't know!" He grabbed Pigsy's hands, not gripping them or moving to remove them just holding them, grip shaking as he tried to keep his tone level. "I don't know, Pigsy, I looked everywhere but... I couldn't..."

For a split second there was nothing but disbelief and fear in the shorter ancient's eyes and it hurt Wukong more than he thought it would. Far more than he prepared himself for. Everything from the entire day came forth to hit him like the lightning truck he barely missed and he collapsed to his knees, mental exhaustion finally taking it's toll and tears began to mix with the rain water running down his fur as he looked off into nothing. He came to the horrifying realization that he really had no answer.

"I don't know where they are Pigsy..."

----------

"You ok, bud?"

MK groaned as the Monkey King grabbed him by his arms and stood him up, brushing all the dirt from his clothes. Training had been going well, Red Son and Mei battling each other in the new Monkey Mech game as he continued to have his butt handed to him. But he had gotten a single hit in on his mentor, matching his last training session, and he looked so proud of him! "Yeah, we gonna go again?"

"Nah, I think making a new crater with your own body twice in one day is more than enough," Monkey King laughed out, guiding MK toward the small house he called home now. "Besides, I want to kick your butt in Monkey Mech too!"

"Hey! I'll totally kick your butt!"

"Prove it Monkie Man!"

Despite the lighthearted banter between them something just felt... off. MK couldn't quite put his finger on it... now that he really gave it thought...

Didn't the weather station call for rain today?

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hogwartsfirebolt · 4 years

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Hi again! This is part two (out of three!) of my 2019 drarry fic recs. In the first part I recommended ten of my absolute favorite stories I read this year, and here I am today with ten more that I also love dearly and hope you’ll enjoy too. The banner art is by one of my FAVORITE ARTISTS, @aceveria-art who was kind enough to let me use their art for this and just LOOK AT THAT STUNNING PIECE (here’s the link for you to reblog if you want cause omg). Now, in no particular order, here’s some of my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2019 PART TWO

1. Of Wands and Trees - Omi_Ohmy - 45k - All Draco wants to do is be a wandmaker, but to do so he needs to understand the soul of trees. Of course, the only man who might be able to help him is the one man who is more of a mystery to him than any tree.

We’re starting out this list with this absolute gemstone of a fic. It’s got everything: adventure, redemption, cabins in the middle of nowhere, a spin on the kind of magic we’re used to in this fandom, ancient trees, passion, wandlore, Draco being forced to work for his own food, Harry bathing naked in streams (my mouth’s watering as we speak), and it’s so, so good, the writing, the characterizations, the setting so vibrant I felt like I was standing right there. Just, a gem all around.

2. Take Into the Air (My Quiet Breath) - guardianmira - 11k - Draco is dying of Hanahaki Disease. Serves him right, Harry thinks.

This fic felt, to me, like something completely different from the eighth year fics I usually read, and, having found it by accident, it absolutely blew my mind! I did not expect to love it as much as I did, and I definitely did not expect to feel it as deeply as I did. Just the right amount of angst to give us that sweet, sweet relief at the end. Very lovely.

3. We have a Problem - @xx-thedarklord-xx - 3k - Weddings tend to have a variety of things happening at one time. With a groom as meticulous as Draco, Ron expected nothing to go wrong. When shenanigans, walkouts, disasters, no-shows, and a lack of food strike, it’s up to Ron to save the day.

SO SWEET. Just so, so freaking sweet and funny and different. Ron’s POV was fresh and lovely and so clever, and the plot is hilarious and engaging. It reads so quickly that you will barely feel time passing, and I am 10000% sure that everyone’s bound to adore this. It’s just one of those fics. I cannot recommend it enough. It will be the absolute best 15-20 minutes of your day.

4. Foreplay - @lqtraintracks - 6k - Getting a raging hard-on on the duelling room floor, pinned under Harry Potter’s sweaty body, is not how Draco saw his day going, but… Well, here he is.

Mmfffff. Can barely think about this without having to fan myself, because it’s probably the hottest fic I read all year. Aurors sparring, a Harry who is unbelievably hot, a Draco who tries but simply can’t resist him, showers, a bit of semi-public sex, and the very literal definition of “not safe for work” can be found in here. Just, goodness, it should’ve taken me half an hour to read it and it took about one because I KEPT STOPPING TO BREATHE. Lqt never fails to deliver powerful, incredibly sexy stories and you should all go see for yourselves what I’m talking about.

5. Safe Words - felix_atticus - 26k - Draco discovers his husband has been keeping a secret from him. At first he’s amused. Then he’s curious. The problem? Harry’s always had a hard time saying no.

Speaking of powerful, this one here stabbed me right in the chest and twisted the knife, but in the absolute best way possible. It’s FANTASTIC. The writing is beautiful, the characterizations astounding, and I felt every single emotion so deep inside me. It paints how difficult it is to navigate trust, how impossible it feels to put our own wants and needs over what’s expected of us, explores consent in so many different aspects of life and just presents a beautiful relationship at its core. It really is gorgeous.

6. Upstaged - @lettersbyelise - 3k - West End actor Drake O'Malley starts receiving fanmail from a (not so mysterious) stranger.

The epistolary format already makes this stand apart from our usual fic, but the plot itself is also something I hadn’t ever read before. It’s written so smoothly that it reads like a dream, and I loved every second of it and how it allowed me to build up an entire picture of what was happening with each letter. I’ve gone back to it two or three times just to experience it all over again, and I always have a great time when I do. This is so lovely, witty and just different.

7. Pure Imagination - @aibidil - 14k - An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.

My god is this fic lovely. I spent about three quarters of it clutching my chest because I loved it so much, I love these kids so much and it hit me right in the feels to see everything they go through after the dust of the war settles and they have to figure out their place in life. This is hope in a jar, it’s that light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel story that becomes a metaphor for life itself. A beautiful, beautiful ride.

8. Poor Unfortunate Souls - @doubleappled - 19k - Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there’s an octopus in the lobby.

Chaotic, unique, HOT!!! The whole set up is brilliant, Draco’s work is very interesting, the scenes where we get to see with Harry and Ginny are so incredibly well done that my jaw fell to the floor a little, and what can I even say about the entire buildup we get for Draco and Harry’s relationship, it was MASTERFUL. This fic is absolutely amazing and the ending is so good I can still savor it when I remember it. Go check it out, right now!!!

9. Weather With You - @quicksilvermaid - 29k - Flood. Heatwave. Cyclone. Epic storm ready to rip London apart? Something strange is happening to the weather inside the Ministry of Magic…–Featuring magical creatures, Harry wearing minimal clothes, a snarky snake, and Draco Malfoy who is definitely Up To Something.

This story is such a fun ride that can, at times, be absolutely freaking hilarious (the whole “He Is Up To Something” narrative never fails to crack me up), and at times become sweet and tender. There is nothing more relatable to me than a Draco who wants Harry so much he doesn’t even know what to do with himself, and it was a joy to read him here, and actually, both of their characterizations are so fantastic that they definitely feel like an extension of what we know about them to begin with, and I just had the best of times watching them work their way out of this mess. Sprinkle in a bit of parseltongue, witty snakes and shirtless Harry, and you’ve found yourself the best way to spend the evening.

10. A Sword Laid Aside - @korlaena - 128k - When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be. Draco has to navigate dealing with this Potter while being hunted by Dark wizards and wanted by extremists in the Ministry. When things take a turn for the worse, Draco has to decide whether he’s going to keep running or find a way to protect the world and the people he cares about most.

There are so many things I want to say about this one, so many little details that drove me wild and I want to mention but I just… I- this story is absolutely MIND BLOWING, it’s deep, it’s amazing and frankly extraordinary and I don’t even know how to tell you how much I adore every single word of it. This must be one of my absolute favorite versions of Harry that I’ve ever read, his immense power, his internal conflict, pain and sheer physicality made me weak in the knees; Draco’s characterization is also so heartbreakingly spot on that I could barely believe what I was reading. This story gripped me, squeezed me, spun me around a little and then put me upright again, and there is honestly nothing like it. I haven’t even told you anything about the plot, which… omg. There are no words to tell you how much you NEED to read this. Just typing this is making me want to embark on this adventure again. — I have no excuse for the amount of Harry thirst to be found on this list, I just- well. I really hope you like these little gems! Hahaha. If you do end up reading any of them and want to chat about them, or have questions about any tags or warnings that might worry you, my DMs are always open!!! Enjoy ❤️

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fic recs #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry fic rec #drarry rec list #2019rec #ficrec

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 3 years

Text

BFCD Story Concepts by Nesha

Story Concept 01: No Saviors in the Wild Pt. 3

Read Pt 1 | Pt 2

Notes: Not writing out an entire cohesive story, but just hitting y’all with lore and the occasional scene is refreshing for me, but also like... I feel like I leave out so much since I’m not painting the full picture of it. So, because this is an installment of when they “met,” figured this is the good place to tell exactly what they look like. Sure, Birgundi Baker is too old to play the roles she plays and Shani is 16, but Birgundi’s look is perfect, so she is Birgundi at a 16 year old version.

Atlas, has no FC, because the image doesn’t exist in Hollywood, as far as I could find: Brown eyes, red hair, a freckles/acne collab skin type - this kid is covered in freckles - and will have acne his entire life, broad shoulders, tall, large ears, hands, feet, and Adam’s apple. Generally scowling. Has an overbite when he smiles and it's the only thing he's really self conscious about at first because when he does smile, it seems to be the thing that people's eyes move towards.

* Shani tells him it's because they're so used to boring, perfect teeth that a smile with character gives them the wrong reaction. "It makes me smile bigger," she adds, with a little shrug. He blushes and tells her to shut up.*

@shslargue @jacksope-lives Thank you for putting up with fragments of an idea that I wish I could mold into a world for you both.

A Savior is Born: The Rise of the Rebels 01

Shani: Objective problem solver, analytical mind, sometimes mistaken for being cold or detached, overthinker who doubts herself and tends to worry that she’s potentially acted or reacted without thinking with her heart.

Her field of study is communications, with special interest in linguistics, because comm can get her a media job and this is one of the careers that can make for a comfortable life in their society (lucrative, if she can handle various languages and/or several fields of communications). She’s focused on intercultural and multilingual communications at the start of the story and has a bunch of stuff about language and speech in her brain.

School is only available for pay, and Shani has applied for a program to work for her schooling - which includes lodging, clothing and food, but is extremely expensive. Students in said programs typically only have time for school and work, having to work an equal amount of hours to process payment for courses and meals, and having to put in a certain amount of hours per dollar amount of clothing, food, and class resources. She has everything available for her education accessible, but in the event that she can’t work for it, she loses that access.

Shani has been working her way through this school system since she was 10.

Prior to that, her parents struggled to pay for her to have a bright start, and also homeschooled, when they could, with outdated publications of any books that they could find, to stimulate her mind and figure out what she might excel in, because they couldn’t afford testing and she wasn’t on the successful track that kids with money were put on. Being a smart child and excellent student, Shani soon earned the right to apply for the scholarship.

At that point, she moved into the dormitories, ate in a cafeteria that was typically full of students BUSY studying, as study hall was more expensive than at home study, and many of them had too many work hours to get a decent amount of study time in.

Shani rarely struggled with taking in information, performed tests extremely well and didn’t take too long to complete homework, as to not interfere an extreme amount with her work schedule. A lot of the kids who were barely hanging on resent her for it, and one particular event that occurs when she’s 16 between herself and a few students who were being removed from school due to grades or insufficient work hours (both of which, at the time, Shani had the displeasure of having to be record keeper of), she was jumped and while she only shielded herself to prevent maximum damage, the aggressors had a matching story that she was involved in a fight with them and she received her sentence (and lesson that kids like her better know their place), along with an academic probation and a fine from the school.

It was taken into consideration that for all 6 years of being in the program, she made excellent scores in all school assignments, performed admirably in all job assignments, and held perfect attendance. She wasn’t removed from the program during her sentencing, but would have to complete her courses remotely while serving her time, or repeat her semester later (having to work to pay off both the “abandoned” one and the one that she would have to make up. So, she chose to continue remotely, through her sentence.

She’s the only kid enrolled in school for the sentencing assignment and that automatically puts a target on her, from the other kids, particularly because she also clearly doesn’t belong here. They can just *tell* that she didn’t earn the sentence she’s serving, and (as always in her life when she gets into a group setting), others resent her for being where she “doesn’t belong.” The rich kids did it in class. The less adept kids did it in the dorms. These kids did it during assignments. She was used to it. But, she was actually terrified of these kids.

They were criminals! Especially, that one.

He was tall and imposing. Not… dangerous looking, really. He didn’t ever smile, but that didn’t mean much in a place like this. What was there to smile about? She noticed him before anybody else, even though he was quiet and not rambunctious like some of the others were on the bus ride to the worksite. She noticed him first because of his hair.

It was bright red, but she didn’t think it was dyed. She had seen red hair before, but not as bright and it definitely wasn’t common. She’d read that it was rare, and had only gotten more rare as time went on. She could think of maybe 3 redheads that she had seen in her life, and none of their hair had ever caught her attention that way. He was covered in freckles. Every visible part of his skin that could harbor freckles appeared to. She couldn’t remember if she knew anybody with freckles, but she liked them. She could stare at them and pretend to make little images by connecting some of them. Her brain imagined a series of patterns while she looked at his arms, slightly less vivid red hairs coated them.

And on his face, he had severe acne. She was a little entranced by it. She found herself also mentally tracing patterns in the bumps, sometimes even incorporating freckles for accent. Up until the point where her brown eyes met his and his were not as dark, but way more mean. She smiled uncomfortably, and his expression didn’t change. She made prayer hands and awkwardly turned away. She could feel him glaring at her, though. She could feel it for the rest of the ride to the woods, and didn’t dare to glance his way when they unloaded.

They wound up standing next to each other as the chaperone took roll call, and verified their identities and sentences. Shani only looked at him again whenever the chaperone read his sentencing as “aggravated robbery.”

He didn’t even blink. He just said, “Allegedly.” Shani noted that although he wasn’t muscular or that solid, he was even taller than he seemed on the bus… maybe 6’1 - 6’3. He was nearly a foot taller than her, at 5’5, but not quite. Still, with his broad shoulders, his brooding expression, and the collar on his neck (the consecutive crimes collar); she felt very unnerved not just being next to him, but being on this site with him. Aggravated Robbery was SERIOUS. You couldn’t even purchase an education with that type of charge. Of course, Shani WOULD be thinking in terms of education. She didn’t even know this boy. His education wasn’t her business...

Next, the chaperone read her name, and stated, “First time violent offense?” And she read it like it was unbelievable and all of the kids looked at Shani as the woman continued, “Judging from your record, I’m assuming that you’re here because of a misunderstanding?”

Shani felt her face grow warm with everyone staring, including Mr. Collar, but she explained, in a low voice, “All I did was try to shield myself. I’ve always read that if you never attempt a hit, you can plead self defense. There were multiple assailants, therefore, my defense was futile and the judge sided with my aggressors, that it was a fight instead of a gang attack.” She heard groans and snickers. She looked at the redhead. He shook his head in disbelief. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel very insignificant. She didn’t realize that the last thing that she should have done in that moment was tell everyone THAT. The chaperone gave her a sympathetic smile and moved on. Mr. Collar scoffed, laughed a little and turned away from her. She studied his profile. His eyes drifted over, checking to see if she was looking at him. Whenever he turned to face her again, she quickly looked away, her face hot from being on the verge of being caught staring again.

Whenever she glanced back, he was still staring. He didn’t look as mean as on the bus. He seemed to be... studying her. She would have loved to know what he was thinking. Whatever it was, his brown eyes were softer than before, at least. She offered a smile and he didn’t return it, but at least he wasn’t glaring. He turned away very suddenly, like something had happened. She noticed that he looked like he was turning red. That was... interesting. Imagine somebody tall and dangerous blushing over one little smile. Her own face grew warm at the thought. He might be... whatever the records alleged... but he was a tall boy with features she liked, too.

#BFCD Story Concepts by Nesha #stories #story concept #writing #original content #Story Concept 01: No Saviors in the Wild #Shani Saviors #Atlas Saviors #A Savior is Born: Rise of the Rebels #Shani Moodboard

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homebody-nobody · 4 years

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touch me someone

HIIIII it’s your favorite fic writer back from the dead with TWO whole fics real close together maybe I’ll finally become a consistent publisher?!? we can dream. Anyway. JJ and Kiara are my new Bellamy and Clarke I guess so enjoy this VERY angsty smutty hurt/comforty poetic nonsense the idea for which would not leave my brain til I wrote it. Please for the love of god read this bc I actually kind of love it and need validation or concrit or literally any feedback at all bc my none of my irl friends like this show so pls interact/comment

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ao3

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He pulls away from her, and his eyes are wide but dry as his chest heaves. He looks wild, uncaged and raw, the moonlight turning his blond hair white and his blue eyes into pools of silver. Tragedy and shock have destroyed him, the chains he’d wrapped around his brash, heedless, unending want twisted into shards by an explosion of hurt and grief. He has always been the victim, the boy left behind in empty rooms with nothing but loss and bloody fragments, told to piece himself back together. Finally, they’ve taken the last thing. When he told John B they had nothing to lose, they still had each other. And now, he doesn’t even have that.

But she’s still here.

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Touch me someone

I’m too young to feel so

numb, numb, numb, numb

You could be the one to

Make me feel somethin, somethin.

The Phantom went down around 8:30 PM. Or maybe 10:30. Kiara doesn’t remember. She only knows that the hours between then and now have felt like a lifetime and also no time at all. Like she’ll turn and John B will be there, behind her shoulder, laughing at something JJ said, Sarah hanging off his arm; but also like the world is dark and will be dark and has been dark forever. Like the sun will never rise after this. Like the storm took the light and heat from the world just like it took her best friend.

Later, she’ll learn that John B’s official time of death is listed as 8:34 PM, when they stopped trying to establish radio contact with him and Sarah. Later, she’ll watch news stories about the manhunt for Rafe Cameron and the scandal of Ward Cameron’s property being left to his second wife, rather than his remaining daughter. Later, she’ll get an email from an internet cafe in Bermuda and her whole world will flip upside down one more time.

But now, she is laying in her four-poster bed, watching the ceiling fan lazily trawl the same, tired circle, listening to the pull-chain tap not-quite-silently against the glass fixture. Now, her hair still damp from the shower that her mother made her take, eyes stinging from sharp wind and tears not yet shed, the inside of her mouth shredded and sore from the hours she spent chewing on her lips, the world is too quiet, too peaceful. The crickets outside sing soft and gentle, just like they have every night her whole life, and the texture of her comforter, the quiet harmony of the night, the soft click and whoosh of the fan -- it all feels so chokingly familiar, like spiralling back down to earth after spending weeks dipping in and out of orbit.

She wants to scream until her throat is raw, sob and fight and unleash herself on every single adult that hurt John B, that brushed him off or refused to help or wouldn’t listen to him. She wants to gut Ward Cameron for ripping everything away from John B, first his father, and then the gold that was his by right. The gold that was theirs. She wants to rip off Rafe’s skin piece by piece until he’s in shreds at her feet. She wants to eviscerate his father with the same gaff hook he used to rip apart those two mainlanders and ruin John B’s life. She’s so full of hurt and grief and anger that her fists keep clenching white-knuckled in her blankets and she wants to bring down the sky itself. But at the same time, she’s haunted by that same emptiness that followed her after Sarah’s childish betrayal, like she’s watching it all from the outside.

She can’t sleep. She won’t. Sleep is just an escape, a place to forget, and she’ll have to wake up and remember what happened all over again, remember the rush of hope and the hours of adrenaline and apprehension that ended in a tragedy none of them could have ever predicted. What child foretells death?

Rolling over, she presses her face into her pillow, smothering herself until her lungs force her to turn her head for air. She opens her eyes, no less heavier than they were hours ago. Her throat tightens like tears are about to well up, to spill over and stain her sheets, but they don’t come. Itchy and claustrophobic, she throws back the sheets and paces over the smooth boards of her room, bare feet making soft noises over the lacquered wood. She has to get out, to make sure that she didn’t dream up the whole goddamn thing.

She dresses quickly, throwing on denim cutoffs and an old drug rug that cycled its way through at least two of the boys’ wardrobes before landing in hers. She doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t know what she needs, but she throws her wallet, her charger, a flashlight, and her water bottle in her beat up backpack, and, on second thought, a toothbrush and some deodorant. She picks up her keds and tiptoes down the stairs, avoiding the creaky eighth stair.

The key rack is empty, and, chastising herself for believing her parents would leave the car keys out after everything she’d pulled in the last few days, she rocks on her heels, assessing her options. The most prudent one is probably just to go back to bed, given the usual risks of going out at night as a teenage girl, the massive punishment that looms in her future, and, now, the lack of a vehicle. But the thought of returning to her stale room, skin crawling and mind racing at a standstill, makes the decision for her. She slips out the back door, making sure to catch the screen door before it slams, and digs out her bike from next to the garage. The tires could use air and the gears are misaligned, but it still rides, and it’ll get her… somewhere else.

Her original intention is to go to Pope’s house, mostly because it’s closest, but then she thinks about how she kissed him earlier that afternoon -- and God, was that just this afternoon? There’d be implications, now. Showing up in the middle of the night, throwing pebbles at his window -- it would mean something. So she stands up on the pedals and pushes past his street, floating like jetsam through the night.

She ends up heading for the chateau, which is where she was going all along. After her family moved to the outskirts of figure eight just before high school, it was the only place that felt like home anymore. She cruises deep into the cut, where even the smell of the air changes, from freshly mowed grass and chlorinated in-ground pools to gasoline and oil, rotting seaweed and the salt marsh.

The little house sits in the reeds, ramshackle and welcoming as ever, tired and reaching under the moon. It’s empty and forlorn, alone on the edge of the edge, out past the main cluster of the cut, pushed past the tideline, separated from the rest of the flotsam by a freak wave. The Routledge boys never fit in, even with the outcasts, and they made their home like they knew it. Skidding to a stop in the gravel driveway, the sting of tiny rocks against her bare ankles is the only thing she’s really felt in hours. Her heart picks up, skipping over itself as her memory stumbles over all the years seeping out of the wind-weathered boards and the sinking foundation.

Again, it feels like this would be a moment for tears, like the sight of John B’s house, the memory of Big John’s booming laugh and all the bonfire-scented nights on that sagging porch should mean enough to make something in her crack, to finally shatter the glass walls of shock and let the grief come pouring in. But it doesn’t. She just stares up at the chateau, one part of her aching for the ease of a found family she’ll never get back, the other dreading the fate of the little house.

The breeze changes directions as she stares up at the rickety shutters and holey screens, bringing with it the tinny sound of music played out of a cell phone in a solo cup, a noise she knows well. Her stomach drops to the hard-packed dirt, crashing there with her bicycle and sending up a cloud of dust. Maybe John B survived. Maybe he made it back to shore, and he’s laying low, doing that stupid, chivalrous thing he does, trying to protect them by not letting them know. Maybe he’s out by the shed in that old metal lawn chair, Sarah in his lap, exhausted and defeated and alive. But as she gets closer, the moonlight glints off tawny waves crusted with sweat and salt, and the momentary, wild hope crashes and ebbs away from the shore.

JJ hears her, of course, sitting up in the hammock and turning toward the sound of her flat-soled sneakers slapping the dirt. “Hey,” he says, his expressive face, for once, inscrutable.

“Hey,” she says, slightly out of breath from the sprint. “I thought you were…” she trails off, because he knows. Because he’s the only one in the whole world who can look at her and understand the cathedral dreams and vaulted memories crashing down in her chest.

“I’m not,” he says, an answer that belies more than either of them knows. JJ gets this look, when he’s seconds away from doing something particularly concerning (and usually criminal). Manic energy lights up in his blue eyes, burning anywhere from mischief to stubborn determination to full-tilt rage. The well-developed muscles in his shoulders and arms refuse to relax, and his hands get so fidgety they lose the coordination it takes to flip the zippo lighter between long, practiced fingers. His face fights with itself, half already spitting with well-steeped anger, the other tired, and broken, and grieving.

“I noticed,” she responds. She drops her bag on one of the metal folding chairs, dooming it to a coating of flaky, faded paint. Crossing the grass, hoping her broad strides will disguise the rattling breath in her chest, the shake in her hands, she moves to sit next to him in the hammock, and he shifts his weight to allow her.

There’s no verbal communication, no squabble about personal space or indignant demands she find her own seat. There never is, not with her boys. The Pogues. It seems so silly now, hiding behind that name for themselves, a name she’d never really belonged to, anyway. He’s holding a lit joint in one hand, a bottle dangling from the other, and he offers her one while swigging from the other. The old favorites of a Maybank in crisis. She takes it.

He falls back next to her, sending the hammock swinging as he gazes up at the stars. Sarah had known the most about constellations, of the five of them, but JJ knows a fair amount, too, some of the only memories of his mother the nights when she would hold him under the stars, tracing the designs across the sky, her hand wrapped around his tiny one. His eyes keep drifting off the sky and landing on Kiara, eyes distant, bathed in moonlight.

“He’s not dead,” JJ says, surprising himself as much as her. He sits up, and she follows. He stares at his feet for a while, and she thinks about putting her arms around him. “I --” he picks his head up to look at her and stops, voice stolen by the hope in her eyes. “I’d feel it,” he finishes lamely, and watches the spark die.

“The first stage of grief is denial,” she says, and it’s supposed to be at least slightly lighthearted, but it falls cruelly to the crabgrass.

“You sound like Pope,” he counters, and there’s too much weight to that name to throw it around for long. They’re both thinking of Kiara kissing him, and the memory is pleasant to neither.

She doesn’t really know why she did that. Maybe it’s because he’s everything she’s supposed to want, intelligence and ambition and ingenuity, everything she tells herself is important in a guy. Maybe because he’s in love with her. Maybe because she’s definitely in love with one of her best friends, and he’s the one who makes sense. She takes another hit and hands the blunt back to JJ.

“I’d know,” he repeats, and she knows it’s not her he’s trying to convince. He lays back in the hammock, putting the blunt between his lips and dragging deep before tilting his head back and blowing the smoke into the tumultuous night. She looks back over her shoulder, watching his jaw and the movement of his throat as he exhales. Laying back next to him, she tries not to think about the warmth of his skin against hers, the strength of the body pressed to her side. It’s only JJ, the same reckless, stupid asshole who carried that damn pistol everywhere all summer and has a talent for getting into trouble. He’s not giving her butterflies with his proximity, and she’s not thinking about reaching down and lacing her fingers through his.

Eventually, JJ flicks the roach into the darkness and stands as quickly as he can without tipping Kiara out of the hammock. She starts, not realizing she was dozing on his shoulder until it’s gone. “It’s late,” he says.

She stands as well, tucking her hands into the pocket of her sweatshirt as he kicks at the dirt. “I don’t --” she starts, and the hesitation makes him stop his nervous movement, meeting her eyes. “I don’t want to go home.” He opens his mouth to say something, but she interrupts him. “I can’t go home.”

“Okay,” he says, after a second. He doesn’t want to be alone, either. She nods, and walks past him, picking up her bag. He follows her up to the house, and they stop at the foot of the stairs to the porch, staring at the buzzing light. JJ takes a stuttering inhale Kiara pretends not to hear, and he goes up the stairs first, wrapping a shaking hand the handle to the screen door. He pauses before going in, frozen, and it isn’t until she lays her hand on his shoulder that he summons the courage to push the door open.

They knew the place was going to be tossed, but it still hurts Kiara and kills JJ, to see the overturned table and scattered papers, the couch cushions scattered on the floor and the coffee table flipped. He tries to shuffle backwards, to run from the sharp, fresh grief and the deep, familiar ache of loss and violation, but Kie is in the way, and when he turns to escape she catches him, her arms around his shoulders, his clutched around her waist. “I can’t --” he chokes, his face pressed to her neck, “It’s not --” his breath speeds up, his shoulders shaking. “They --”

“I know,” she says, swallowing down tears, herself, in that same small voice from the night in the hot tub. She knew JJ was broken, on that deep, fundamental level that, intellectually, she could conceptualize, but she could never feel. But that night, seeing the bruises on his ribs, damning as fingerprints, the ghost of his pain, the whisper of breath knocked out and the brush of betrayal, turned her chest inside out. This feels the same way, watching him lose the last shred of some semblance of home to the same kind of mindless anger and selfish authority that claimed the first one. “I know.”

But she’s still here. “Kie…” he breathes. She opens her mouth to reassure him again, but then his hands are on her face and he’s kissing her, deep and rough and desperate. She bursts into flame underneath him, paralysis broken, stupefaction overcome, as the glass walls she’s been watching through crack and shatter at her feet. JJ’s hands wrap around the back of her neck and spread across the small of her back, pushing her up against the door, and she twists her hands into his shaggy, sun-streaked hair. Every desperate question is met with his touch, and she chases it, even as he pulls away in horrified shock.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Fuck, Kie, I’m so sorry --” He tries to shove himself away from her at the instant she curls her fists in his shirt, and it almost rips as she pulls and he slams back into her. Teeth clash and noses bump and it’s not perfect or soft or loving, but passion born from desperation and terror of what it would mean to stop. Putting his hands on the door on either side of her face, he pushes himself off of her, even as she tries to yank him back. “What are we doing?” he asks, in a voice that won’t like the answer.

“JJ,” she gasps, pushing her fingers back up to tangle in blond, salt-sticky waves. “Shut up.” Pulling his mouth back down on top of hers, she gasps into him as his hands come down and frame her ribs, one of his arms sliding around her waist and the other pushing back up into her hair.

“Don’t you think --” he tries, even as he leans over her, their breathing ragged, his knuckles white in her impossibly soft curls. His forehead is pushed to hers and he can’t pull away any farther, sucked into her gravitational field, helpless to it.

“I don’t want to think,” she insists. “I want this, I need this,” This momentary pause is already too long, and if he stops kissing her, stops touching her, the tears she’s been holding back will crash over her and they won’t stop. The dark room is loud with heavy breathing as she catches the scent of him, salt and sweat and smoke. “I need you.”

His grip falters and the momentary relaxation has her pressing herself against him. “Are you sure?” he asks, and this is a choice, now. This isn’t something that either of them can pawn off as a mistake made in the heat of a desperate moment. He wants this, has wanted it, ever since he met her, but he won’t be a decision half-made, won’t take advantage of vulnerability only to become a regret. He’s giving her a way out, knows her pragmatic nature and her anxious need for well-thought plans. He wants her to think, even if she’s desperate not to.

He’s right, when he almost never is, but she knows that if she waits too long or lets in the doubt that expects her, she will break. “JJ,” she gasps, “Please.” His name, she knows, he can’t resist, not when paired with urgent pleading, and in this way, she makes her choice. He surrenders to her.

They fall onto the creaky pullout, still set up from JJ’s most recent stay, not minding the sheets and blankets wrought asunder by the angry police search. He can’t let go of her, his hands pushing up her sweatshirt, dragging over her sides and up her thighs, tangling in her hair like he’s drinking her in with his touch, intoxicated with the smell of peach in her hair and the taste of sweat on her skin. Kiara lets herself get lost in him, ride the wave of desire pushing through her, moans and gasps when he hits the right spots and closes her eyes as he lifts her shirt over her head and attaches his lips to her neck, his hands finally coming up to cover her tits, and the long careful fingers she’d spent so many afternoons watching prove adept at twisting and pinching her nipples and leaving her begging for him.

She almost rips his t-shirt off, pulling his bare chest against her own and letting the feeling of skin on skin light her up, setting fireworks off behind her eyelids. Wrapping one hand around the arm holding him up, she can feel his teeth on her neck, and she knows he’s leaving marks, and, for once, it doesn’t feel like she’s being claimed. She knows what it is -- proof this is happening, that they’re alive and feeling and crashing together again and again. She sinks her nails into his bicep as his fingers skim below the waistband of her shorts, and feels him smirk against her lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, and the teasing in his voice is tortuous and reminiscent of his old, humorous self, just enough to make her sad for a moment, and when she nods quickly in return, it’s a bid to forget that sadness. His fingers flick open the button of her shorts and as his fingers dip lower, the only thing she can think about, the only thing she can feel, is his touch, his all-consuming presence, radiating heat. The bastard takes his time, her only gratification the press of him against her hip, hot and hard. He teases her through her underwear, and she can’t say she doesn’t enjoy it, arcing into his touch, shocks of pleasure building in incredible anticipation, but he’s going too slow, and he’s wearing too many clothes, still, and the intense want gnawing at her has too much potential to turn into grief.

“Would you just --” she grunts against his mouth, cut off on a moan as he presses his fingers against her clit. “Fucking -- ah,” he works slow, hard, circles, enjoying himself as she tries to form sentences with his hands on her. “Fuck me already!” Because even this can’t be easy, not between the two of them. Because she’ll always be fighting with him, even with her bare chest pressed against his and his hand down her pants.

JJ grins, scraping his teeth over her ear. “What,” he says, still teasing, still bittersweet, as he finally pushes his hand into her underwear, “aren’t you enjoying this?” Slowly, much too slowly, his fingers part the lips of her cunt, pressing down over her clit before finding the wetness further down. JJ practically growls as his middle finger dips between her folds and he finds her soaked, dropping his forehead against the forearm braced above her head. “Fuck, Kie,” he moans, and he can’t disguise the wasted crack in his voice. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He’s already drunk on her, every new sensation dragging him deeper.

“Your fault,” she stutters as he puts his hands, lean and strong and practiced, to good use, dragging slick fingertips back up to her clit and teasing small circles, rough, calloused skin creating delicious friction. And this -- this is what she was so desperate for, to feel only his touch and the way he pushes her higher, closer to an edge far away from the bleak grief of their every day world. He moans, too, as he dips his middle finger into her and she keens into his mouth, and she’s not thinking anymore, only chasing heat and skin and pleasure, the rest of the night foggy and distant, moonlit and blurred.

She doesn’t even know how much time passes before he’s kissing his way down her body, only that he’s fucked her so well with his hands he has three fingers inside her and she’s asking for more. He pulls his hand away and she lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched noise at the loss of contact, only to end on a gasp when she opens her eyes to see that he has his fingers curled around the waistband of her shorts and his face is hovering near her hips, pupils blown wide as he looks up at her. He asks her something, but blood rushes in her ears as her heart pounds and her chest heaves and it isn’t until his tongue darts out to wet his lips that she realizes what he’s saying.

“Fuck, yes, please,” she whines, and it feels like less than instant before her shorts are on the floor and his head is between her legs, his tongue on her clit, and she screams, pushing her hands into his hair as his mouth launches her higher and keeps her there, wave upon wave crashing over her until her legs are shaking, and when she feels the pull deep in her stomach and he takes half a second to breathe, she has enough presence of mind to yank him back up, slamming his lips down onto hers, tasting herself there.

“Inside me,” she gasps, ragged and raw and scraping. “Now.”

“But you haven’t --” he breathes, and she reaches down, shoving past the waistband of the shorts he’s still wearing, her hand on his cock stopping him dead.

“Now,” she repeats. And then, leans up to kiss him, slightly softer than before, as if in apology for being so rough, but more as a distraction as her hands unbutton his shorts and shove them down his thighs, her hands finding him again and stroking his cock until he’s gasping into her mouth. “Unless,” she says between short kisses, trying to keep her tone light, even as her cunt aches for him. “You changed your mind?”

He scrambles out of his shorts and boxers so fast it’s almost funny, but the laugh falls out of her chest as he braces his forearms on either side of her face, pushing her hair back from her forehead and looking at her so carefully it almost hurts. “I don’t have a condom,” he says, uncharacteristic worry trembling in his voice.

“I’m clean,” she says, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair once more, to ground her, and disguise their shaking. “You?”

He nods. “What about --”

“I have an IUD,” she says, more grateful than ever for her liberal mother and her own presence of mind.

He licks his lips again, eyes dropping to her mouth before flicking back up to her eyes. “Last chance,” he says, like she’s going to change her mind and push him off of her, run off into the night and leave him here, disgraced and embarrassed. “Still sure?” he asks, like he’s expecting her to say no. She nods without hesitation, caught in his blue eyes, turned cobalt in the half-light. He kisses her one more time, and it’s laden with years of things he hasn’t said, and she surges up with urgency, not ready for the tenderness in his touch. JJ tries to slow her down again, to revel in the moment of bare skin and vulnerability, no matter how guarded it may be, but she reaches down, wrapping her hand around his dick, guiding him closer to her, and he’s falling into her touch, into her orbit, helpless.

She draws him inside her, his forehead dropping to her shoulder with a forsaken, heavy breath. It’s too soft, this moment before he moves, too easy to break, every sense on fire. The air is too close to her skin, too tight around her arms, like she could rip the fabric of it with the barest movement. She wants to be lost in him again, to feel separate, far away and floating above herself, not so torturously in her body, JJ trembling and present above her. “JJ,” she says, opening her eyes to find his, a split-second mistake, the next word hitching on its way out of her chest. “Move.”

He does, mercifully lowering his face to press against her neck, the eye contact too substantial, too burdensome to hold. The bubble surrounding them expands as he works her up to that blissful edge with ease, his mouth letting out a stream of filthy words about how good she feels surrounding him. Closing her eyes, she tilts her head back, letting her hands have free reign over his back, his shoulders, his arms and up into his hair, every place she wants to touch him when she watches his ridiculous muscles ripple under his young, tan skin. He shifts his weight, hooking her knee over his hip so his cock hits exactly the right spot with every thrust, and she cries out, racing higher.

She should have expected that JJ likes to run his mouth -- she only catches parts of what he’s saying, things like ‘so fucking hot’ and ‘sound so fucking good’ and ‘so fucking wet for me’ and as her moans increase in pitch and volume, he growls “c’mon, Kie, cum for me,” and she falls apart. He fucks her through the aftermath and she barely knows what noises are coming out of her mouth, her nails digging angry welts in his back. Just when she thinks she can’t take anymore, he tenses and spills inside her on a half-broken sigh.

Her vision sharpens as he rolls off of her, collapsing on the squeaky bedsprings, and the house is too quiet all of a sudden, the air once again too close. Her breath slows, the sweat cooling on her skin in the soft breeze pushing through the wooden walls, the still-open front door. Neither of them says anything, and Kiara can feel him looking at her, his blown out smile too loud in the fallout. She sits up, almost flinching at the light touch of his fingers on his spine when he picks up a strand of her hair. “I’m gonna pee,” she says, finding her underwear and pulling them on, and then, after half a moment, pulling his discarded t-shirt over her head.

Her head echoes as she steps over the scattered mess to get to the bathroom, like she’s walking through a tunnel. Her legs ache and tremble, and she wraps her arms around herself, numb and falling. She fights tears as she washes her hands. The bathroom is, as always, a deplorable mess, products everywhere and hair all over the sink. Her green bikini top is still on the floor from when she’d forgotten it just the other day, and that girl feels impossibly far from the one staring at herself in the mirror, wearing her best friend’s shirt while he’s naked in the next room. There’d be shame, and guilt, too, if the smell of John B’s deodorant didn’t choke her with overwhelming loss. Bracing her hands on either side of the sink, she can’t hold it back anymore, and sobs spill out of her, harsh and echoing in the small space.

JJ is behind her an instant, half-dressed in basketball shorts and drawing her into his arms, tucking her close to him, her tears hot on his skin. “He’s gone,” she whimpers. “He’s really gone.” He doesn’t say anything, just guides her back to the pullout and straightens the blankets enough for her to fall in. She curls up on her side, crying so hard she can’t breathe, and he climbs in across from her, pushing one arm under her neck and using the other to pull her against him, his lips pressed to her forehead.

Tears leak out of his own eyes, silent and soft to her earth-shattering grief. “It’s gonna be okay,” he reassures her, fighting the quiver in his own voice, his chin shaking with the effort of it. He stares into the empty darkness above her head, every jerk of her prone body another crack in his breaking heart. “He’s coming back,” he says, more to himself than her. “He’s coming back to us.”

When she finally quiets down, the betrayal of dawn is beginning to lighten the sky, the moon fading, and the idea of this night being over feels impossible. For a short while, they breathe each other in, her forehead pressed to his collarbones, his hand trailing up and down her spine. Her head aches and her eyelids fall heavy over gritty, exhausted eyes, but she still fights sleep, stubbornly resisting another day, the beginning of a life without John B and Sarah. “I can’t stay here,” she says, finally, pushing back from him. “I should go home.”

He reaches up to catch her chin as she watches her hands curled close to his chest, reluctant to go. “Kie,” he murmurs, lifting her gaze to meet his. He moves forward to kiss her, and she flattens her palms against his skin, stopping him even as her eyes fall to his lips.

“JJ,” she says, an exhale more than his name. “We -- I mean, I --”

“Shit,” he sighs, and it almost sounds like a laugh, formed from expectations he wished hadn’t come true. “Okay.” His eyes flutter close, and she watches him draw back into himself, close all the doors, like he wants to turn off the lights and pretend he’s not even here. But then, he looks at her again, gently smoothing a curl behind her ear. “It’s just --” he starts, and inhales again, wetting his lips as he struggles to keep his eyes on her deep brown ones. “Can we go back to normal tomorrow?” Her eyebrows push together a fraction of an inch, and he focuses on the wrinkle there, a thousand times easier than holding her gaze. “Please,” he says when she inhales to say something. “I don’t want to be alone.”

It’s the first time either of them have been completely honest all night, and the most he’s said in hours. “Yeah,” she says, agreeing without thinking. Making it about him instead of admitting to herself that she wants to stay, that she doesn’t want to be alone either. “Yeah, okay.” She allows herself to be kissed, to be held and kept softly. JJ twists his fingers in her curls, skims his lips over her hairline before pressing his forehead against hers.

He tucks his hand against the side of her neck, his fingers spanning from her ear to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright,” he promises, and they both pretend he’s saying it to her. She’s seen JJ cheerful and stubborn, breaking and angry, seen him a thousand different ways. But never like this, kind and soft, quiet in the grey, grieving dawn. Eventually, she falls asleep under his touch and reassuring whispers.

The morning is just as sticky and unforgiving as every other that summer, and she wakes up damp and sticky with sweat. JJ is stretched out on his stomach, arms tucked under his head, mouth slack and hair falling over his eyes. Her head still hurts, and now so do her back and thighs, and she stretches her hand out across the rumpled sheets, tracing the red lines she’d left down his back. He blinks awake, closing his mouth and freezing when he feels her touch on his skin.

“Hey,” she murmurs.

“Hey,” he replies.

She waits for him to say something, but he just watches her, his clear blue eyes unflinching. She bites her lip. “I should get home,” she says, keeping her eyes on the knuckle tracing over his back, his gaze too heavy to hold.

“Yeah,” he says, “okay.” Neither of them move. The world waits on a hair trigger, and JJ’s more familiar with this kind of silence than she is. She wants him to break it first, to be the impulsive hothead he always is, to make the choice for both of them. But he doesn’t, and the moment crumbles, and she sits up and goes in search of her clothes.

He doesn’t say anything until she stoops to pick up her bag, sweatshirt in hand, ready to shove it into the biggest pocket. “Kie,” he says, and she stops dead, looking up at him. She doesn’t know what she wants him to say, but she deflates anyway when he just asks “my shirt?”

She’d forgotten she was wearing it. Pulling it off, she feels his hungry eyes trace up her bare chest as she untangles the drug rug before pulling it down and arranging it around her hips. She tosses him the shirt, and he holds her gaze as he flips it right side out and tugs it on. They stand on either side of the disheveled living room, daring the other person to say something, move, do anything first. He knows what he wants, what he can’t have, what he’s convinced himself he never will. She remembers the line she drew, the boundary she’d very clearly set. He chooses to respect it while she waits for him to break the rules.

Birds sing in the unflinching morning, and a breeze stirs the hair around her face. She slings her backpack over her shoulder. The sun blazes as gulls call and waves lap against the dock. He tilts his chin back, like he always does just before a fight. She turns to go.

#outer banks #jiara #jj x kiara #kiara x jj #kiara/jj #jj/kiara #outer banks fanfiction #jiara fanfic #jiara fic #jiara fanfiction #jiara smut #jiara angst #angst #smut #hurt/comfort #PLEASE interact with this I'm LITERALLY BEGGING YOU

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horansqueen · 4 years

Text

You & Me : chapter 47

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

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 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43 || CHAPTER 44 || CHAPTER 45 || CHAPTER 46

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: last filler chapter. the next 3 chapters are all planned. this is the end omg im so sad! i love you guys so much for sticking to this story! thank you so so much! the others chapters will be separated in two so i can write each POVs :)

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : this is, i believe, the last request i’ll add to this story. thank you times a million to all of you who sent some! I received over 200 requests just for YOU&ME! you guys are incredible and i hope youll want to participate to my next story as much as you did for this one!

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 47 : His chapter

NIALL

October 2018

Tour was finally over and we were back home. We had decided to get back to California for a while, if only to spend some time with friends and relax. I knew Olivia wanted to be around Louis and I just enjoyed being in LA for obvious reasons. Things had never been better between us but at least once a day, I could feel the ring I bought burning in my pocket or whispering to me from my underwear drawer. It always felt like the right time to get on one knee and ask her and at the same time, it also never felt like it was the perfect moment. I knew it was ridiculous because I was pretty sure she wanted to spend her life with me, but I was scared of being rejected, I was scared of what a 'no' would do to us and to our relationship. So many times, I had looked in her eyes and almost dropped down on one knee to ask her to be my wife, but I never did. I liked to believe I hadn't asked her yet because I knew she deserved something bigger than just me giving her a ring in a hotel room while we're waiting for our ride to the airport, but it was definitely not the biggest problem. I was just fucking scared and every time the words were about to come out of my mouth, I'd swallow them. I had no idea who I was trying to fool : Olivia was never the type to enjoy attention or extravagant things. She was reserved and private, pretty much like me, and I knew my proposal didn't have to be anything wild. It could be simple, and cheesy, and as long as I could find the right words, it would be perfect.

I heard the key in the lock and it took me out of my thoughts, pushing away my inner confusion. I waited until the door opened and she appeared, making my lips curl. She made a quick head movement but everything seemed to go on slow motion, like in a movie, and i watched her hair fly behind her shoulder. I was in it so deep I almost groaned and grimaced at how cheesy I was.

"Hey babe, what are you doing?"

I breathed in deeply, realizing I had completely stopped, and sent her a smile, licking my lips.

"Waiting for you like the loser I am." I half-joked before chuckling. "You were with Louis? How's he?"

She smiled at me and took a step closer, tilting her head. "First off, you're not a loser. You're cute. You're sweet. You're super endearing." she just said, staring at me fondly. Her expression changed and she glanced down, sucking on her bottom lip before putting her purse next to the couch. "I was not with... I didn't spend the night with Louis."

I frowned, waiting for her to continue and when her eyes met mine, I knew it was bad.

"I went to dinner with Dylan."

My lips parted and my heart jumped in my chest. I was never the jealous type and I was not about to start now, right? Then why did something seemed to stir in my stomach? Why was there a lump in my throat that had seemed to appear suddenly?

"No way, tell me you're kiddin'."

"Niall, please-"

"No, don't act like this is normal and that I'm stupid to be angry." i cut her, shaking my head. "I can't believe you spent all this time alone with Dylan."

She sighed again and sat on the couch, rubbing her hands on her eyes. I walked closer and dived my hands in my pockets, trying to remain calm but the truth was, I was hurt and I was not sure what all of this meant. All I knew was that I felt betrayed and I could barely believe we'd have to go through something like this again. This time, the roles seemed to be reversed but I didn't want this to break us.

"Obviously, you knew it was wrong since you purposely omitted to tell me." I continued, pressing my lips together to be sure I wouldn't let out a mean remark. "Why did you do that to me, Liv?"

It took her a few seconds but she finally got up very slowly, right in front of me. Her body was close, so close I could feel the warmth of it on my skin, but I just stared in her eyes, feeling my heart soften at the way she was looking at me.

"I don't love him, you know it." she expressed in a soft tone. "I don't love anyone but you. He's still my friend, and also my co-worker. I probably shouldn't have gone with him, especially not without telling you, but... I don't know, Niall."

I stared at her for what felt like an hour as I tried to calm the beatings of my heart and finally passed one of my hands in my hair and sat down on the couch. She turned around to face me but remained up as I shook my head.

"I'm not going to tell you who you can and can't be friends with, and I do trust you." I let out carefully. "But Olivia, how would you feel if i came back here one night and told you I spent the evening with Heidi?"

I could feel her body tense near mine but I didn't look up at her. I waited and eventually, she sat next to me and reached for my hand on my thigh, squeezing my fingers with both her hands.

"I'd feel betrayed, and sad, and... and hurt." she admitted. "I'm sorry Niall, it was wrong of me."

I brought my other hand and placed it over hers, squeezing her hand and brushing my thumb on the top of it.

"If it can reassure you though, Dylan is seeing someone." she added, making me look up in her eyes. "A pretty blonde. Actress too. Not your type, obviously, but I think they really fit."

"Not my type?" I repeated in an amused tone, raising my eyebrows. "Says who?"

"Your dating history." she explained with a chuckle. "She's a small cute blonde and you like tall and sexy brunettes."

I pressed my lips together again and shook my head. "Naa, that's not true anymore." I just shrugged, making her frown. "I just like one sexy brunette."

She laughed and tilted her head. "You're crazy, I'm not sex-"

I cut her by pressing my palm against her mouth and raising my eyebrows, moving slightly closer. My eyes roamed on her again as something jumped in my stomach. I wanted to ask her to marry me at this exact moment. I wanted to tell her she was everything I needed in this life and that my heart was aching for her to become my wife. Instead, I breathed in and finally swallowed.

"Don't argue with me. You're sexy." I whispered before moving my hand away very slowly. "And I love you."

She licked her lips and the left corner of her lips raised up. "Your love is blinding you." she whispered, moving closer to brush her lips against mine. "But I appreciate it. I love you too."

She kissed me so gently that if I had closed my eyes, it would have felt unreal, and when she pulled away, I saw her facial expression change.

"I'm sorry, Niall. That won't ever happen again." she apologized gently in a soft tone.

"I know." I whispered before suddenly realizing something. "Hey, does that mean he broke up with Heidi?"

Her lips curled and she shrugged. "Yea, that's what he told me tonight. I feel a bit sorry for her, she's been through a lot in the past few weeks."

I stared at her for a few seconds, surprised by her words but at the same time a bit impressed. The fact that she could be empathetic even to people who were mean to her was something I appreciated. Of course, we hadn't been too kind to Heidi either and Liv was not wrong, she had been through a lot, even if it was not all on us and that she had put us through a lot too. Still, I felt my lips curl and she tilted her head before sighing as she turned her upper body my way.

"It's horrible what we all did to each other, don't you think?"

My traits softened and I nodded. "It is." I admitted in a low tone. "Let's just use this so we never do that again."

Her lips curled a bit and she licked them slowly as I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to me. Her arms slithered around my neck and I sent her an amused smile.

"It won't ever happen again." she confessed, tilting her chin up. "I plan to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you."

Her words made me chuckle and I raised my eyebrows, still looking at her, "Oh what a coincidence, I plan the same with you."

I brought one of my hands to her cheek before pressing my forehead against hers. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. It made me smile and gently, I rubbed my nose against hers, making her chuckle low.

"Shower?" I proposed in a low tone.

"Mm no, a bath. Together."

I laughed a bit but we ended up in the bathroom together as she filled the tub with warm water. I let my eyes roam on her as she got undressed, leaving her clothes on the cold tiles, and when her eyes met mine, she raised her eyebrows. The left corner of my lips raised up into a cheeky smile and she just shook her head but I took a step closer, placing my hands on her waist and making her smile too.

"Fifteen minutes without thinking about sex. Please." she asked, tilting her head and making me laugh.

"But you're just standing naked in front of me I mean..."

"Niall James Horan, you're not sixteen anymore, you can be around a naked girl without feeling the need to shag her, i'm sure!"

"Around any other girl, yea, but when it's you..." I let out, half-joking and making her roll her eyes.

"Come on, get naked too." she let out as she started working on my pants. I helped her take them off and before she could do it, I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, letting fall on the pile of her clothing on the floor. "Alright, seeing you in your usual white boxers does something to me." she admitted, bringing her hand to my cock over my boxers and biting her bottom lip.

"Look who's all horny now." I laughed as she got on her tiptoes to kiss my lips, letting go of me and smiling against my mouth. "Come on, get in the tub."

After a few minutes, I was sitting in the tub, legs spread, and she was sitting between them, her back leaned against my chest. I didn't remember us ever doing that before but I enjoyed it a lot more that I thought I would. We started talking and laughing together and it was exactly like when we were younger and we'd spend all night talking together. Well, almost : the younger versions of us were definitely not naked.

"I can't believe we're dating again." she let out after a while as her thumb brushed gently on my arm. "If someone had told me that a few months ago, I wouldn't have believed it. Who would have thought?"

"Me." I replied before she moved slightly to look at me. "I mean, I wrote 'you and me' about that. I knew we were meant to be, and I've always known I wanted to spend my life with you."

I knew this discussion could go wrong but I had to be honest about all of this.

"I could have refused, you know. I could have been over you by then." she argued calmly. "I thought I was. But then you appeared with that stupid gorgeous mug of yours, that fucking insane smile and those ridiculously incredible eyes..." She shook her head. "I had no chance to win that fight."

I let out a loud laugh and she tilted her head to reach my chin with her lips, leaving a small kiss on my skin.

"When I found out you were getting married... I started doubting everything." I admitted, looking down at my hand moving slowly to bring warm water on her skin after seeing her shiver. "I thought maybe it was too late. But I couldn't seem to give up."

We remained silent for a while until she grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers tight. "I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too." I whispered. "And I feel so lucky that you gave me an other chance."

Once again, she turned around slightly but this time, I moved my chin down to kiss her lips.

"We don't even have an anniversary date." she pointed out, raising her eyebrows at me.

"Of course we do! It's April 16th of this year."

I felt my heart jump at my words and held my breath. April 16th was the day I bought that promise ring for her in Paris. It was when I decided that I wanted to marry her and that I would ask her to be my wife. Since that day, I had almost asked her so many times I couldn't count anymore. I hadn't dropped on one knee yet but I knew that I would at some point, and April 16th was the day I realized that. Some days I would bring the ring with me in my pocket, some other days it would stay in one of the drawers in our room, but it was always in the back of my mind. I obviously couldn't tell her that and when she turned around an other time to frown at me, I suddenly remembered something she had said.

"Y-Yea, I mean you don't remember?" I stammered. "There was an article about that earring you gave me and you said that you didn't care that people knew we were together."

We had also mentioned not being official the day after, I remembered that too. but I decided not to mention it. I was pretty sure she had mentioned that we were together but I was also aware it was probably just a bad choice of words. She was right, we didn't have an anniversary date, but I hoped that it would become that date if only because it was a big day for me and I hoped it would become a big day for her, too.

"I don't remember, but I trust you." she just shrugged before her lips curled. "Alright, April 16th, then."

I felt my heart jump in my chest and I kissed her gently but firmly again, making her chuckle against my mouth. I could have spent the whole night with her body pressed on me as we chilled in hot water but after a while, we got out, dried ourselves and got back to our room to put on pajamas.

"I'll make us some tea." she proposed as we walked back to the living room and she finally disappeared in the kitchen.

I sat on the couch and started looking for the remote on the coffee table. I was about to give up when something caught my eyes and I grabbed her notebook. It was similar to mine but of a different color and I knew she wrote ideas for her tv show or her future book in it. I was about to ignore it when I realized it was open and I could have sworn I had seen my surname. Without thinking, I grabbed it and a smile appeared quickly on my face when I saw 'Olivia Horan' scribbled everywhere on a page, surrounded by hearts and stars. It seemed like she had tried to create a signature with her future name and it made me think about the ring in my drawer. If I was scared she wouldn't accept, that notebook was a good clue that her answer would probably be positive. I put it away when I heard noise and leaned against the couch as I watched her walk slowly up to me to make sure she wouldn't spill our hot beverages and I thanked her as I grabbed a mug. She sat next to me and our eyes met before our lips curled. I couldn't believe how happy I was.

"I love you, Niall. I'm... I'm glad we're dating now." she admitted before taking a sip.

"Me too, petal. I'm happy you accepted to be my girlfriend again."

---

December 2018

When Liv told me she was spending the day with Julia, I was a bit surprised, but the truth was, I enjoyed the fact that these two got along so well. She said she wouldn't be home late but I knew how she could get and when Louis proposed that we grabbed a bite (and a few pints, of course) together, I jumped on the occasion.

I knew Louis had become Olivia's best friend and even if we used to be very close, I was fine with that. Somehow, they had been through a lot together, and I knew it was partially my fault : they probably wouldn't be that close if I hadn't broken up with Liv. Of course, they'd still be friends, since they were before we broke up, but I knew their pain brought them closer and it was obvious that nothing could tear them apart now.

I was also slowly but surely getting over the fact that Louis and her had sex a few times. I was not sure how often but I was sure I didn't want to know and anyway, i couldn't blame her or him. It had happened and I had to live with that fact. Besides, I knew there was nothing between them anymore.

I smiled when I saw Louis walk in the restaurant and got up to hug him before we both sat back down. We ordered beer and when we got them, we clinked our glasses together and drank half of it. It was weird to think I was with Olivia's best friend and she was actually hanging out with mine, but the fact that we appreciated each other's entourage was perfect.

"So, Neil, how are things for you?" he asked, playing with his beer and turning it around in his hands. "Where's my queen tonight?"

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, amused. "Your queen is with Julia, but she's not supposed to come back home too late. She'll text me. Where's El?"

"Gone for a few days."

"Ah. That's why you called me." I pointed out before laughing when I saw his face. "It's ok Tommo, I get it."

"I'm thinking you're ding quite well these days." he pointed out, ignoring my last comment. "When are you gonna pop the question?"

I almost choked on my beer and wiped my mouth on my shoulder before swallowing hard and making Louis laugh.

"We've just been taking bets on that." he continued, shrugging a shoulder.

"We?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Liam and I. Trying to bring Harry in it but he says it's none of our business."

"I've always thought Harry was the smartest of my bandmates." I joked, making Louis laugh again.

"Oh yea, you definitely thought that when he was balls deep in your best friend's fanny right?"

"Shut up, Tommo!" I frowned as he laughed again. "He probably shagged her less times than you did."

Louis took an other big sip of his drink. "Touché." he shrugged again before chuckling. "Not sure what it says about the relationship they had, though."

I raised my nose up in a grimace and drank what was left of my beer. I didn't really want to have this discussion and I decided to change the subject.

"Well, I don't know which bet you took, but I hope you lose." I admitted as I looked through my pocket, taking out the ring and placing it right in the middle of the table.

Louis' eyes got bigger and he moved closer, bending down to look it it without daring to touch it. I stopped the waitress to order us two other beers and a few shots and when I turned back to my friend. he was still staring at the ring like he didn't know what it was. I snatched it quickly, taking him out of his thoughts, and put it in my little finger to stare at it.

"I've thought about asking her so many times." I confessed, my eyes still on the ring. "But it never feels like the right time."

"I know you're a romantic man, Niall but... will there ever be a right time?" Louis said gently, making me sigh. "Aren't you just a bit scared that she'll say no and leave?"

I groaned and closed my eyes before raising my nose up in a grimace again. "Maybe."

He was right, I knew it, but at the same time, i wanted to make it special for her. I wanted it to be something that she'd remember forever, something she couldn't forget even if she tried. I wanted to express my feelings to her and tell her everything she wanted and needed to hear, just to make her happy. I had tried to write down the right words but everything seemed cliché and cheesy.

"Do it. She's your soulmate. I can't make up a scenario in my head where she'd actually say 'no'." he continued. "I think deep down, you know I'm right."

I looked up and sighed again, putting the ring back in my pocket.

"I don't know anymore, I just don't want to take her for granted, you know?" I shrugged. "I've done that before and it messed up everything. Never again."

"That doesn't mean you can't be confident and believe in the love she has for you."

I frowned a bit as I stared at him. "Are you trying to win your bet against Liam by making me ask Olivia to marry me?"

"No." Louis chuckled, leaning against his chair. "I just think you've been hesitant for too long. When exactly did you buy this ring?"

"Mm, well, about, 8 months ago?"

Just saying it out loud sounded ridiculous. Had I been waiting that long? It was almost pathetic. How scared of rejection could a guy be? Seriously. I had never reacted like that in anything I did before, and I was always the confident type, but asking Olivia to marry me was something that made me so nervous I could feel my hands sweat and I passed one of them in my hair.

"8 months? Are you fucking insane? How did you manage to keep that secret?"

"I don't even know." I mumbled in a low tone, staring at my glass, not daring to check Louis' amused expression.

"Niall, we're talking about Olivia. The girl you've known all your life, the girl who's been in love with you since the very first day she found out what love was. Put your big boy pants on and pop the fucking question before that fucking ring starts to get rusty!"

"It's made of gold...."

He rolled his eyes and kicked me under the table, making me groan again as I moved my leg away. Damn, that kid could kick.

"Don't be a fookin' idiot, mate, and just ask her."

I finally looked up in his eyes and he raised his eyebrows at me. He was right but at the same time, I didn't know when I should do it. I wanted to do something special, or at least slightly romantic, but all I could think about were ugly clichés from movies. Nothing original came to mind and it was driving me insane.

"Alright. Soon." I gave in. "I'll do it soon."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #my fanfics #yam

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schnees-and-schnugs · 4 years

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head empty baby schneebling ficlet ??? (just so yall know i had no idea what this was going to be about until i started typing so im gonna be surprised by what i write too). if it seems that winter has chronic ADHD brain in this fic its bc i have chronic ADHD brain and that’s just how i roll.

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Winter tried to ignore the meowing as long as she could. After all, there was not a single feline creature to be found in the manor, so either she’s dreaming or hallucinating. Or maybe her ears are ringing from her father’s latest tantrum.

Being held hostage at the dinner table and forced to listen to his incessant barking voice ought to have caused me permanent brain damage. She smirked under her covers. Now if I can close my eyes and go back to sleep-

“MEEEEROOOWOOW”

What the fuck is that?

Winter knew she ought to get up but she really did not want to. Her thighs ached from horse riding lessons earlier in the day. Her head ached from her business studies her father forced down her throat. Her soul ached from the pain of existence. She was beginning to think she was being punished for some transgression- if being unbelievably charming and sexy deserved- actually, I don’t think I’m going to finish that train of thought.

Winter could only tolerate her own sense of humor in small doses, but giver her situation- her entire life up to this point- she didn’t think having an unbecoming jocularity was high up on her list of Current Problems and Tragedies. In fact, it’s quite low given that her father makes up the better part of the first half.

She rolled onto her side, one ear muffled by her pillow, and the other under the soft thick layer of her cotton blanket. The noise seemed to have disappeared, and Winter was quite okay with that. She wondered briefly of the possibility of a mountain lion finding its way into the Schnee Estate. She wasn’t even sure if wild animals such as that existed in Solitas, much less bright and pristine Atlas. Winter wasn’t even sure if mountain lions meowed.

If a beast made it’s way into the manor, what would I even do? No doubt she would try to locate the animal, gather Weiss and Whitley in her arms and stow them somewhere safe. Maybe even use a piece of meat to lure the lion into father’s bedroom, she mused. Winter tried lull herself back to sleep with the thought of her father begging her for mercy as she unleashes her new pet-

“MREEEEEEEEEEEWOOOOOOOOOOOOOW”

Her eyes snapped open. Gods-

A soft muffled voice followed the feline yell. A familiar voice. A voice exactly suited for one little boy she new very well.

Winter narrowed her eyes and listening closely. She could tell it was Whitley from the general childish sound of his tone, but due to her very comfortable position in bed, she couldn’t quite her the specifics. Huffing, she sat up and pricked up her ears.

“... quiet....please kitty... you’re going to wake up....”

Winter sputtered. Kitty?

Did Whitley somehow bring a cat into the manor? She didn’t doubt that given the chance he would- he was overly fond of animals in a way that Winter never understood. Not that she hated animals per se, but the idea of the added responsibility of a pet on top of her already ever-growing responsibilities of being heir to the SDC did not sit well with her. Whitley on the other hand, being the third child, and well, and actual child, didn’t really have much to care about beyond his normal tutoring sessions. Which means that, of course he can have a tiny bird feeders outside his window to feed the little birdies and cry at the sight of a roasted chicken because how could they kill and cook and innocent little animal?

Winter didn’t understand how a child under 10 years of age could be taken by vegan persuasions- even Father was shocked to silence at that outburst at the dinner table.

The sound of Whitley’s voice faded out as Winter strained her ears. If he did bring a cat into the manor, she needed to fix that immediately. Father would be furious at not only being woken up in the middle of the night but Whitley breaking the strict rule of no animals whatsoever allowed indoors.

Father is allergic.

(What animal he’s allergic to is unknown, but Winter suspects he’s just afraid of them).

Sliding off the bed, Winter winced at the feeling of cold tile on her bare feet. She simultaneously thought of giving Whitley a good scolding for making her roll off of bed at such an ungodly hour and thanking the Gods that Whitley’s room was right next to hers on the other side of the wall. And the farthest away from Father’s room.

Sliding her feet into a pair of pale blue fluffy slippers, she cautiously stepped out of her room and into the hallway. The moment the clock strikes 12 the hallway lamps usually shut off on their own, leaving at least this portion of the manor pitch black until the sun rises and lights up through the windows. If Father was working late he would manually change the lights to turn off at a later time- only to suite himself, of course. Everyone else who had the misfortune of living in the manor had to finish up and be back in their rooms by midnight or suffer having to find their room in the dark among the endless doors that lined the hallway. Winter had mastered the art of blindly walking down this hall- but not without multiple mishaps and embarrassments at first, unfortunately.

Arms outstretched, Winter felt her way from her doorway to Whitley’s room. She kept close to the wall and tiptoed, feeling for the doorknob before pressing her ear against the room door.

“Are you hungry little kitty?” There was an affirmative purr and Whitley hummed. “I’m going to have to find you some treats...”

Winter could practically hear the cogs turning in his little adolescent mind. She knew for sure that Whitley was formulating a plan to break into the food storage for the animals in Mom’s garden- would they even have any cat food in there? He surely is going to be disappointed.

Winter sighed. She almost wished she had stayed in bed. She turned the knob and nudged open the door, prompting Whitley to softly gasp.

“Winnie!” She heard him quickly shift on his bed. Winter stepped fully into the space before gently closing the door behind her. She turned towards him and assessed the scene before her. Whitley, in his white nightgown, sat in the middle of the bed. He was cradling a suspicious lump wrapped up with his blanket while his round face was contorted by a small frown as he stared back at his oldest sister.

“Father says that we shouldn’t leave out room after midnight”, the lump shifted and Whitley clutched it tighter.

“Father also says we aren’t allowed to bring animals into the manor...” Winter crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that on your lap?”

“Nothing!”

“Are you sure?” Whatever annoyance Winter felt melted away at the sight of Whitley pouting. She sauntered playfully to the edge of his bed and wiggled and finger in his face. “Are you lying to me? Your older sister Winnie? You’re lying to me?”

Whitley broke eye contact. “Well...” The lump mewed and a furry white paw extended from out of the cover of the blanket. Winter raised a brow.

“That looks suspiciously like a cat.” Winter crawled into his bed and uncovered the little creature. The cat loafed on Whitley’s lap, grooming the pristine white fur on around its pink paw beans. It looked to be a few years old.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Whitley caressed the cat’s back, having already moved on from the earlier argument. Winter tried to pat its head but the little critter swiftly dodged her palm and scampered to the edge of the bed and curled up, seemingly to sleep. Rude.

There’s a more present matter at hand anyways.

“Where did you find it?” Winter turned her attention back to her little brother.

“Her”

“What?”

“It’s a she, Winnie! Look at her butt!” Winter politely declined the suggestion. She had no interest in inspecting the cat’s backside- she didn’t seem to like Winter anyways.

“Well, where did you find her?”

“I didn’t find her! Mr. Hartley gave her to me”

“The grounds keeper?” Winter scoffed. “Why would he give you a cat?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why don’t you don’t believe me?” His eyes started to brim with tears and he grabbed Winters right hand with his own two smaller ones. “Father said we’re not allowed to bring animals in here but I didn’t know what to do! Mr. Hartley said he’s leaving but he can’t take her with him. I said I would keep her. But Father is going to yell at me if he finds out- I’m scared...”

Winter’s chest ached at the desperation in Whitley’s voice. This isn’t normal is it? For a child to be so terrified of their parent like this. When she was his age, she felt the same way- so scared and vulnerable. It was the end of the world to get negative attention from Father, and most of the time it seemed to be the only type of attention he gave. It almost seemed par for the course all those years ago. She didn’t know any better- it was just the norm.

Looking at Whitley, petrified like she was- she could see the abuse from the outside. Almost as if she’s watching her own experiences and she’s chained to a front row seat. Except she didn’t have an older sibling to hold her hand and to share the pain with. To protect her. To defend her. Isn’t that what she always wanted in the worst days of the past? Couldn’t she be that now?

Whitley couldn’t keep the cat. There was no amount of convincing that could make Father give in- it’s always been about his own ego, more than anything. But that doesn’t mean that Father has to know this cat was ever here in the first place. Atlas has plenty of animal shelters, and having a pet cat was in vogue now. She would convince Whitley to let Klein take the cat to the nearest one in the morning. Father would never know if they were discrete.

“Winnie...” Whitley’s bright blue eyes searched her face.

Winter grabbed him under his arms, and with little struggle, sat him between her stretched out legs. She hugged him around the waist from behind and softly told him her plan.

“... do you want to do this with me?”

Whitley sniffed. “I can’t keep her?”

“Father won’t allow you to. We can make sure the kitty is safe and taken care of though... Klein will do this for us, I know it. You won’t get yelled at and you can tell her goodbye in the morning. Father will be none the wiser.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that he’ll never know.”

Whitley was quiet for a few seconds before Winter felt him nod softly beneath her chin. “Can I sleep with her tonight?”

Winter blinked. She forgot it was currently hours past Whitley’s bedtime. He must be half asleep.

“Yes. Just make sure to keep her in your room, okay? I’ll leave a message for Klein to see in the morning. Don’t...” She paused. She noticed Whitley breath start to even out as he fell asleep against her.

I suppose I’m going to be sleeping her tonight also. She needed to make sure that this all goes well. However, Winter couldn’t ignore the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Was she just getting Whitley used to this? Hiding secrets out of fear? Was she allowing Father to have his way in Whitley’s eyes? Getting Whitley accustomed to living under Father’s thumb? She was just trying to protect him. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of selfishness, that she was denying Whitley happiness for the sake of peace with their Father.

Mom always told her to choose her battles carefully.

She couldn’t help but feel that if she chose all the wrong ones, she’ll end up hurting Whitley beyond repair.

#rwby #whitley schnee #winter schnee #fic

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1152

survey by emptyspaces

What song reminds you of being in middle school? Patron Tequila was a huuuuuuuuuge bop in 5th grade, and I can tell you too many kids who were too young for the song nevertheless vibed hard to it. Down by Jay Sean also reminds me of mid-elementary school. I believe both have so far been one-hit wonders, lol.

What was the first thing you learned how to cook? I don’t cook cook, but I remember we had one day in like preschool when we were taught how to make homemade pizza. That was the first dish I remember making. We used white bread for the crust and topped it with tomato sauce, grated cheese, and sliced hotdogs. I ended up liking the ‘recipe’ a lot and frequently asked my aunt or grandma to make it for me.

What does your hair currently look like? It’s slightly damp since I took a shower a couple of hours ago, and it’s currently styled in a low side ponytail.

Who's the worst driver you know? It’s been years since I’ve been in a car where my uncle was in charge of the wheel, but I would always end up feeling nauseous whenever he was the one driving. I never figured out why, but my best bet is because he tends to press hard on the brakes. I also don’t trust anyone who’s fine with being way too close to other cars.

What are some wild animals commonly found where you live? I live in a residential area where there are approximately 0 wild animals roaming around lol. I do have some neighbors who keep chickens, but that’s as wild as it gets over here.

Does it take a lot to make you cry? Nah. Just show me a stereotypical emotional video, like anything to do with grandparents or pets reuniting with their owners, and I’ll produce some tears for you in seconds.

If the last dream you had came true, would that be a good or bad thing? Bad. I was relieved when I finally woke up.

Have you ever had a lucid dream? No. I’ve tried doing it before but just could never get in the zone.

How long did your last car ride last? Something like 20 minutes. The mall isn’t that far away and most of the travel was because our house is way too far from the village’s entrance.

Isn't it disgusting when people chew with their mouth open? I mean c'mon... It’s icky but I have other worse pet peeves.

What's your most prominent memory from 2009? I used to keep this journal where all of my entries were of me roleplaying in the Twilight universe. Obviously it’s embarrassing to think of now, but I must’ve written quite well back then because my classmates loved reading it and used to pass it around during recess and lunch hahaha. That was my only successful stint in fiction writing ever. I know the notebook is still around somewhere, but I refuse to see even just the outside; too much cringe lol.

Do you think there will ever be world peace? A little pessimistic answer but no.

What's your biggest problem at the moment? A client was supposed to send us this file that I needed so I can proceed with a deliverable that we were asked to do today, but he never followed through. That’s fine by me since executions get moved all the time, but it also means he’ll probably send it sometime during the Holy Week break and I’ll have to work during one of my days-off this week. -__-

Has anyone ever told you you're too emotionally needy? I don’t think so. If someone has it would most likely stick with me.

Has an ex ever told you that they want you back? Nope. She has an infinite amount of pride in her bones for her to do that.

Have you ever turned down a job offer? I have never had to, and so far I’ve only been the one turned down haha. Joke’s on them; I’m super happy with the job I’ve landed.

What's the longest hospital stay you've had? For what? I’ve only had to be confined once and that was just an overnight stay. It was a dengue scare but turned out to be just a low platelet count.

Do you know anyone who doesn't know the basics of using a computer? My maternal grandma refuses to learn anything that’s got to do with modern technology, and I suuuper doubt she’d be able to figure out how to turn on a laptop or computer.

What was the last snack you ate? I was feeling hungry earlier and had a bite of this guava chip that my workplace had sent over as a care package; but it tastes super healthy and blech and I felt like I deserved something more junk food-y for finishing off the work week haha. Now I’m having KFC delivered at 1 AM :(((

What's something really basic that you're terrible at? Lighting up a matchstick. I’m scared of fire and I always ask my dad to be the one to light up my scented candles every single time.

Is it just me, or are tv shows/movies getting to be really dumbed down? No. Different generations, different tastes catered. I also think I’ve answered this survey before because I remember saying that I actually appreciate how content these days are more inclusive and open about tackling sensitive issues. That’s the complete opposite of ‘dumbed down’ to me.

Do you know any same-sex married couples? Finding one in the Philippines is like looking for a needle in a haystack, but yeah I happen to know a couple of couples. They probably handled all the paperwork in the US, but still. I’m glad their family is able to thrive here.

What was the last appointment you scheduled? It was a telemedicine consultation. I didn’t need it, but one of our clients recently partnered with this telehealth service and they wanted someone from the agency to use a free trial so we can have a better idea of what the service offers. I was the sacrificial lamb (lmao) and so I had to have this quick video call with one of their doctors. That was the first instance I was glad to have scoliosis because it gave me something to talk about, because otherwise I would be completely lost on what to consult about.

Are you happy with the person you have become? Getting there :) I definitely don’t have as many self-loathing moments than I used to just a few months ago.

What year were you born? 1998.

What does your favorite watch look like? I don’t have one; I don’t use watches as I will probably lose them in like a month anyway.

Did you have one of those Tamagotchi things as a kid? Yeah, but I personally didn’t get the hype and quickly went back to my other toys.

What's your favorite kind of wine? Sweeter ones. I can’t stand bitter wine.

When was the last time you felt lonely? Last Sunday. I was talking to Angela and Andi more excessively than usual that day; and it was most likely the quarantine getting to me. Even though they reassure me that I’m not being too clingy or annoying I still feel like I am, so that day made me rethink and reflect about ways to expand my circles and gain new friends.

Are your parents still together? Yeah, I literally just got them their KFC orders like 10 minutes ago.

Have you ever been so broke you didn't know how you'd keep a roof over your head? I’m thankful to have never been in this position.

Do you know anyone who believes that vaccines cause autism? Possibly. But at least they’re smart enough to keep their mouth shut about it.

What was the last piece of furniture you bought? OMG OMG OMG I *literally* just received it this afternoon but I finally bought a cute lil night lamp for my room :> :> Hahahaha I’ve spent my last four employed months spending on nothing but food, but I decided to switch it up a bit and finally purchase something that won’t be gone the next day, hence the lamp. Not really furniture, but still. It’s the cutest thing ever and it’s currently lighting up my room really prettily!!!

What's a new skill you'd like to learn? Climbing.

How did you celebrate your last birthday? It was the peak of the pandemic when the entire world was still scrambling to figure out how to handle it, so all stores were closed and no one could go out. I barely remember what had happened since that day just flew by, but I do recall that Angela had a box of sushi delivered to my place.

Do you have any great housecleaning tips? Not really.

What's your favorite cocktail? Zombie.

Did your favorite movie come out before or after you were born? Way before I was born; it’s 31 years older than me.

Is there anything you need to do before the end of the day? Nope.

#survey #surveys

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