#(it was meant to be a medicine originally and that’s why it had like fucked ingredients; the guy who made it just used carbonated water)

[jackklinemybeloved]

love the cast of mentopolis talking about things that were invented by accident in adventuring party and being like !!!! I know these things!!! thank you book about accidental inventions I read in fifth grade!!!!

[shizunitis]

Luo Binghe: Original Drafts Edition! Who and why?

“[…] in fact, in his original outline, Bing-gē hadn’t even had a romance plotline; he had been doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever.” — The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, Vol. 4 (Mo Xiang Tong Xiu)

The drafts version of Binghe! Not Bing-gē, nor Bing-mei, but a secret, third thing! (I’m partial to Bing-xióng (兄) myself, just for thematic cohesion. Bing-mei remains as he is: Shizun’s special glass-heart maiden.)

So! Who is this elusive, mythical Binghe we never got the chance to meet? What is he? How do I get to pick this one’s brains?

Why is he haunting me! What does he want! So much to think about.

Listen: I love my trash sons, both the racoon and wet dog variations, but I am curious about this handsome demon lord who did not bed thousands, and did not steal his shizun to lovingly coax him into a loving and respectful marriage. Alas, Airplane-bro, as is custom, has left me hanging.

The solitary quote above has been floating around my brainspace for months. Intermittently, I would look up at the sky and sigh a big sad dog sigh, and think of this lonely demon-man emperor who seems to be both perfectly representative of No-Shizunitis Suffering Binghe, and on the exact opposite end of the line. I have spent many a night trying to rearrange the blocks of both SVSSS and PIDW like a sad toddler with no plan but plenty of amorphous longing.

Thus, Bing-xiong. My beloved new toy.

We know he is left alone and unaging. This means that:

He does not marry even once. (Sorry, Other Bing Variants. This one came broken.)

He is not defeated, killed, or left to suffer his not-father’s fate of sulking under a mountain.

From 1) we can assume two more things! Xin Mo either gets fixed/doesn’t influence this Binghe the same way, or: Xin Mo is completely written off à la Airplane Retconning, making Binghe potentially even more individually powerful than his younger counterparts.

(Or he just. Takes people’s cultivation ad-infinitum. Interesting thought, but too straight-forward for my tastes. Airplane’s thoughts? Unknowable.)

From 2) we can also assume Binghe cannot die, is under the influence of the Protagonist Halo unto infinity, and will only be put out of his misery once the heat death of the universe deems it a worthwhile endeavour. Either that or the story ends, but. It tickles a miserable part of my brain pink to think Binghe will not be let off even then.

Anyway. Bing-xiong, of course, has the same source material to work off of. Up until the Abyss, and including it, the plotline should be if not the same, adjacent enough to be indistinguishable.

However. This means:

Bing-xiong never got coerced into sex by Qin Wanyue, thus not starting him on the path of sex-dependency/addiction, avoiding Bing-gē’s fate by virtue of the Butterfly Effect. (Read this post because it explains Bing-ge's whole thing better than a lot of things I've seen.)

Again, Xin Mo implications.

Alternate Universe Shenanigans make an appearance. (Shen Jiu’s fever and death was actually meant to happen, Bing-ge just got very, very unlucky and his Universe’s Yue Qingyuan very, very lucky. For a few years. Either that or there is a Shen Yuan for every Binghe! Again: sorry, Bing-ge. You need to find your own. Middle child issues…)

Once the drafts/original outline got lost, all bets are off and now the characters become real people, without narrative influence. This also has the very fucked up implication that Bing-ge is actually a result of exclusively external forces and would have never gone down that path if not forced onto it by Airplane’s unwitting hands. I do and do not love this version. Very Mo Ran-esque, if looked at from afar and squinting.

Other options I’m either too not-high to think, or too high to put together. (Cold medicine is insane?)

I am fascinated by this… Schrödinger’s Binghe. A jaded, lonely emperor left in the ashes of his world, gazing upon his own history and finding fucking nothing and no one. Metaphorically and, like, practically, if I’m understanding Airplane’s musings correctly. Isolated, cursed by his own blood in a completely new and fucked up way!

I need Airplane to speak with me for like, half an hour. This is paramount to my mental health, I’m losing my braincells by the hour.

What happened to this impervious, cocky, badass demon bastard lord to become so alone? How did it happen? Why did it not happen to the other two, or at least Bing-ge, who has had every horrible and shitty thing possible and impossible piled onto his head? What the fuck is up with Xin Mo? Why isn’t it eating away at Big Bro Luo? Or, worse: why is it eating away at him in such a way that instead of turning into a violent yet charismatic, horror-creature of a man, it turns him into the existential terror-fate I’ve contemplated and abhorred since I was seven?

Tianlang-jun as the final boss. Discovering Huan Hua Palace Master’s crimes, deceit and… stuff. Perhaps even uncovering Shen Jiu’s backstory.

Ooh! Worse! Or better? What if he finds out everything, after having followed Bing-gē’s path, and simply… gives up? A grown up Bing-ge, minus the marriage and surrogate-lover part(s).

(More unlikely than other options, but still there, I guess.)

Fucking insane of MXTX to do this to me, personally and specifically.

I can only speculate forever, I guess! Left… alone and pondering forever.

So. Not a Bing-ge, and not a Bing-mei. A Bing-xiong, if you will.

[island-ofthelost]

Untitled House MD Speculative Piece

(that is the title btw)

for @sylviedonnas @housemdanniversary hope you like it, Hailey!

here it is on ao3

And here it is here:

For the last five months, Robert Chase had been a damn Ouija board. In constant communication with a dead person, phone calls, updates sending over prescriptions. Death is meant to rid a person from all worldly pain. So why was it that Chase had been getting a dead guy Vicodin?

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. One moment, Gregory House was dead. He had died in a fire, and all that was left of him was some teeth, they could only identify him by his dental records. The next moment he was alive, planning to spend five months with his dying best friend, taking him wherever he wanted, and in desperate need of pain medication. Who better to ask than his successor? 

Chase had always been House’s yes-man. Almost blindly agreeing with everything House had said. Well, he was usually right anyways. Chase was the only member of House’s original team who never quit, he had only ever been fired. Of course he always ended up on House’s team again. And Chase, he never had to worry about becoming like House. For all eight years he had worked at Princeton Plainsboro with House, it was always Eric Foreman who was “House-Lite”. Chase was the pretty Australian. He was kind to his patients, and cared about his job, and not just because he needed to keep his job to keep his work visa. Foreman was the one who needed to worry. Hell, Foreman ended up quitting the team because of that worry.

But now, eight years later, Foreman was the goddamn Dean of Medicine. And Chase? Chase had House’s job. Same job in that same office, with the same white board and same blood stain on the floor from when House was shot by a patient. But somehow, it didn’t feel any different.

Chase sat in the office, his legs up on the desk. The team- His team, had left for the day. And he was alone. He fiddled with the red and gray ball that had been there as long as he could remember. He supposed the ball was his now, as was everything else in that office. But it still felt like it didn’t belong to him, like House was going to walk in any moment and berate him with snarky comments for touching his stuff, but he wasn’t going to.

In all likelihood, House was never going to walk into that office again. Of course, that didn’t mean House’s voice would never be heard in that office.

Chase’s phone rang. He didn’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who it was. Who else would be calling him? His parents were dead, he wasn’t speaking with his ex-wife. He didn’t really have any friends.

Chase picked up the phone, “Hey, House.”

“Hey,” House replied. Something about his voice sounded off. Almost as if he had been crying.

“You okay?” Chase asked, “do you need me to send you a prescription?”

“No, uh,” House almost sounded like he was choking on his words, “It’s Wilson. He’s- he’s dead Robert.”

Oh right, that. Chase’s life had been so clouded by what was going on with House while he was gone, he had forgotten why he had left. Chase’s heart sank. He didn’t know Wilson very well, of course it was sad that he had died, but he was mainly concerned about House. House had given up his entire life for that man, and now that he was gone, well, what was left to live for?

“Uh, Chase?” House had interrupted his train of thought.

“Which state are you in?” Chase asked

“What?” 

“Which state are you in?”

“Shock and panic, mostly.” So House wasn’t totally devoid of his usual personality.

“No, I mean, where are you?”

“Currently in a hotel. Why?”

Chase sighed. All of this, and House was still acting like an ass. Maybe he had an excuse, but now really wasn’t the time. “You know what I mean.” he said through gritted teeth.”

“California. I still don’t understand why you need to know.”

“Because I’m going to come get you.”

“No the fuck you are not. It was never your responsibility to take care of me, and it still isn’t.”

“I’m not saying you need to be taken care of, I’m just-”

“You’re just what?”

“I’m just,” Chase sighed again, “scared that you might do something stupid?”

“Like what? Kill myself?” House’s words hit Chase like a ton of bricks, and he hung up before Chase had a chance to respond.

Somehow, against House’s wishes, Chase ended up on a plane flying into LAX.

When he arrived at the airport, he texted House, said he was in California and asked for his address. And he got it, the hotel, down to the exact room.

Chase knocked on House’s door, it swung open, and they were standing face to face. God, it was almost like Chase was looking into a taller, older mirror.

After Chase had gotten divorced and shaved his head, his hair got darker. Turning from a bright yellow blonde into a nearly brown color, Chase could still see the faint shadow of once-brown hair through House’s unkempt gray.

House’s eye’s were notoriously very blue, but Chase had never noticed how similar they were in shade, not to mention the dark circles and bags that were forming rapidly under both.

Chase almost looked like he could be House’s goddamn son, the same long face, long nose, permanently unshaven stubble. 

Chase didn’t know what to say, the fact that he was here at all, standing face to face with the dead man he had worked for for eight years. Standing there, for the first time, not at work or doing anything involving work. Whatever they had at the moment, it was mutual. 

Chase didn’t know what to do, start comforting him, scream at him, offer up his hand and say “good afternoon sir,”. Without even thinking, he hugged him, didn’t even say anything.

Much to his surprise, House hugged him back.

[applepiesupreme]

American Apple Pie

Pairing: Low/Mid Honor Arthur Morgan and female OC.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Savigne Ricci is a temporary guest at the Van der Linde camp. Her path crosses with the enforcer of the gang, Arthur Morgan, and despite their differences, a relationship develops between them. Whole lot of smut and fluff, slow burn-ish.

Chapter 43

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54945853/chapters/155915830

“Savigne, come. Breakfast.” The clatter of a tray being dropped on the table.

“You know I don’t do breakfast,” she growled and turned her back.

“I made ‘em, they ain’t runny.”

“How about you eat it then,” she mumbled. Who cracked their eyes open and snapped out a napkin to eat breakfast? Since she was a child, she had never been hungry as soon as she woke up. Which had caused her a good amount of grief because at the orphanage breakfasts were not only served very early (nuns believed in doing everything atrociously early), but also mandatory (waste and ingratitude was frowned upon and not eating breakfast meant no other meals for the day). First thing she had done when she had left, was to stop eating damn breakfast.

He came to the bed and rubbed her back and she stretched like a cat. “Doctor said you gotta eat more.”

“I just woke up and I’m not hungry.”

“You keep at this, grub is gonna come out a grub.”

“What the fuck?!” she startled.

“‘M just sayin’.”

She pulled the cover over her head and ignored him. Naturally he went and started doing the one thing that drove her crazy: moving stuff around the tent. Now that she was feeling better, all her old ailments were making a comeback and it irked her that Arthur was shameless enough to have zero qualms in exploiting them. She sat up, threw the cover off her head and watched him slide out a book and put it on another shelf. The hair on her arms rose.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’,” was his dismissive answer as he walked to the mirror. He ran his hands through his hair and, pretending to adjust it, dipped the mirror a little to the right. Her mouth fell open.

“Straighten it!”

“Just did,” was his smooth response, eyes flicking to her. 

“It’s crooked now!”

His lips bowed. “Looks straight to me.”

He casually walked over and stood by the bed. “Breakfast, come on. Made the coffee, too.”

“I’m not hungry,” she repeated evenly.

He hummed and glanced at his pinned photos.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“What?” he said, all innocence and reached out a slow hand.

“Don’t move them! They’re even now, you evened them!”

“Did,” he sighed. “But, looks like wind tossed them a bit.”

“What wind?”

His finger touched Copper’s photo and she catapulted out of bed. “This is entirely too much tension, Arthur!” she hissed, stomping to the shelf and putting the book back in its original shelf. Then she walked over and adjusted the mirror. “And that’s not a good thing, doctor said that, too!”

He was suddenly by her side and grabbed her arm and led her to the table. “Goin’ hungry ain’t good either,” he gently but firmly pushed her on a chair. She sat there glowering while he piled her plate and told her not to pout unless she wanted to be kissed. 

“They ain’t runny, see?” he coaxed as if she was a child.

“I’m not-”

“Eat it like medicine, then,” he cut her off. When she grumbled some more, his brows slanted: “Eat or ‘m gonna walk to that damn crate and pin them pictures upside down.”

She recoiled. “You wouldn’t!”

His forward tilt was full of menace. “Upside down and crooked.”

“You monster!” Her eyes welled a little at his brutishness as she cut off a piece of toast to furiously stuff it into her mouth.

“The hell ya learn to eat? Jesus, no need to be a savage,” he grinned, completely unfazed by her emotional meltdown as he poured her coffee. Then he sobered a little: "Today Saturday." She shrugged sullenly. "Want you to pick out nice clothes. I'll bring 'em with when I pick you up."

"Why, where are we going?" she swallowed the toast.

"Hotel?"

"I know, but which one?"

"Fancy one," he said dismissively.

"Why?"

“Cause that the one I booked,” was the patient answer.

"But how much-"

"Woman, y'aint gotta fight me on every damn thing like a hellcat."

She pushed eggs into her mouth and chewed, intrigued why he would pay so much for fancy place if all they were going to do as soon as the door slid shut was to tear each other’s clothes off. Arthur wasn’t coy about his impatience in the matter, and she herself had been suffering bouts of arousal spikes since his return. This was the longest they had gone without sex and the dam was ready to burst for both of them. Just thinking about it churned out a fresh wave of slick and she shifted on the chair.

"Sounds like a date," she said around her food.

He gave her an inscrutable look but didn't comment.

After this she was pushed up the cart like she was some invalid, and then instead of dropping her off, he followed her right into the steakhouse.

“You can’t just walk in here, this is a business,” she tried to dissuade him.

“Just wanna talk to Luther, won’ take a moment.”

“What for, you barely know him?” she asked but he outpaced her and she ran after his long stride. “Wait, what fo-…hello?!”

Luther gave him a head to toe. “Heard ya was back,” he said around his cigarette.

Arthur shook the offered hand. “Wan’ed to thank you,” he cleared this throat, “For lookin’ after Savigne while I was gone.”

Savigne relaxed a little. A reasonable, polite exchange, who knew?

“Sure. Savigne my friend,” Luther shrugged his massive shoulders and turned some steaks.

Arthur ran his tongue over his teeth and looked down at her. “Ain’t you gotta change?”

“I will. After you leave,” was her suspicious response.

His eyes shifted to the smoke rising from the steaks. “Clothes might smell of food, thought ya didn’ like that?”

She vexed with indecision for a moment, then hissed “Damn it!” and ran off to the changing room.

“How ya been, big guy?” Luther rumbled after she was gone, voice more relaxed. “Glad to have ya back.”

“Good to see you, too.” Arthur crossed his arms. “‘M gonna make it quick since she probably rippin’ her clothes off in there. ‘M here cause I don’ think she gonna ask: doctor said she gotta work less.”

“That so?” Luther’s eyebrows rose.

“Ya think that’ll fly or…?”

“I’ll take care of it." Then the cook narrowed his eyes and jabbed his fork at Arthur. “But ‘m doin’ it for Savigne, not you, cause I don’ like you much right now.”

“The hell I do?!”

Luther gave him a mean side eye. “Ya gonna put a ring on this girl’s finger or what?” The outlaw’s arms loosened with surprise. “Cause way I see it,” he rumbled on, “if y’aint, you gotta yield.”

“To?”

The big lips bowed. “A better man.”

Frost ghosted over the blue eyes. “Listen here…”

“No, you listen!” was Luther’s unfazed interruption. His eyes shifted to the changing room, then back. He lowered his voice: “That my girl. Ain’t nobody got time for you to get in a mood ‘bout it. If y’ain’t gonna do it, say it as it is, cause we on a clock here, case you forgotten.”

“Course I will,” the other man hissed, also glancing at the shut door first. “But I wasn’ gonna ask in a damn kitchen or with gators floatin’ by, was I?”

The cook waved his arm and spat a dark whisper: “Ya had time to do it proper but ya decided you was gonna go play pirate! Tell ya what, my girl ain’t short of beaus.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “That so?”

“That so,” Luther’s dark eyes flicked at him. “Found her a nice kid. You been 'round for months. This kid ready to pop the question in days.”

“Who the hell is that?” was the surprised growl.

“I got lotta friends,” Luther said smoothly and added another blithe “Case you forgotten.”

“You tryin’ to piss me off, old man?”

“You piss me off, I send you a damn invite to the damn wedding!” was the heated hiss.

Arthur chest inflated and he opened his mouth for an acerbic response but just then Savigne exploded out of the changing room in her uniform, hastily tucking her hair under the double caps. He swallowed his words and shifted on his feet to dispel his anger.

“I’m back,” she panted when she arrived and looked from one man to the other.

“See you tonight,” Arthur said softly, nodded a “Luther,” to the other man and strode out.

“What did you guys talk about?” she asked as she plated the mashed potatoes.

“He said you gotta work less.”

“I knew it!” Savigne spat. “He’s sticking his nose into everything, I swear he’s driving me crazy!” She did a double take at Luther’s hard face. “It’s just a recommendation,” she added defensively. The cook gave her a long unblinking stare as she pretended to be fascinated with plating vegetables.

“Now listen here,” he started, voice hard. “That his child, too. Man got a right to be worried, you bein’ the dimwit y’are.”

“There’s nothing to worry,” she protested.

“Ya tellin’ me youse a doctor platin’ potatoes Savigne?”

“No?”

“Then it ain’t yer call, is it? Doctor say you gotta work less, you say ‘yes sir’ and sit down. No - first you come talk to me cause ‘m yer friend, and then ya sit down.”

“You never listen to your doctor,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Believe it or not,” he growled, “there ain’t no child in this, might be that’s why!” He slapped his belly and it jiggled like pudding.

“Great. Now I have two people breathing down my neck,” she muttered as she loaded the plates on a tray. 

“I know yer proud, but what you doin’ is selfish. ‘M gonna talk to Mister Harrison.” She opened her mouth, then wilted under his dark gaze and closed it again.

“Ya got somethin’ to say Savigne?” was his menacing growl.

“No?”

“Good.”

“Doctor also said less tension but nobody cares about that part!” she spat just to have the final word. 

She caught herself checking the time all throughout the day, stupendously happy and excited because first time in what felt like ages, she was looking forward to something again. Deja vu flooded through her as she remembered the months she would explode out of Antoine's back door to pick up Cricket, her mind already going over the ingredients she was missing to cook dinner and calculating the shortest route to acquire them so she could get back to the camp as fast as possible. Somehow, no compliment from a chef, no glowing review of her food by a customer, not even the successes of her career could measure to knowing that Arthur was waiting for her back home. If only he was less bossy, she sighed wistfully to herself. Softer. Like Connor.

The idea jolted her out of her reverie and she felt guilt for leaving Connor hanging as she had. He had sent her a message asking if she would enjoy an evening on one of the gambling ships (which she knew would cost him a sizeable chunk of his salary) but before she could respond, Arthur had returned and she had grappled with how to break the news to him. She had written a very straightforward message but it sounded cruel so she had ripped it. That was followed by a vague one but that sounded dishonest and she had ripped that, too. Then she had thought that she owed him a break up in person but flustered at the idea. Savigne was experienced in the art of breaking up - of holding out her hand and saying "Things didn't work out, but we can remain civil", but ironically even though she didn't love him and had loved the others, Connor was harder to break up with than any of her previous flames because she was wary of hurting him. Stop delaying it, she told herself. He's a great person and he'll find someone else. Someone who isn't hung up on another man and he deserves that.  

She squirmed with the idea all throughout her shift and just when she was about to ask Luther how to go about it, Arthur walked into the kitchen, all dressed up, hair and beard freshly trimmed. 

Luther followed her gawking gaze and harrumphed, taking his cigarette out from between his lips. 

“You clean up well, give ya that,” he grumbled when Arthur arrived. The cowboy handed Savigne a bag and watched her walk back to the changing room with it.

“Take it you wisened up?”

“Was gonna ask anyway,” Arthur smarted and shifted a little on his feet. Truth is, he hadn’t been so sure if he should do it today and had initially decided to play it by ear, but Luther’s talk earlier had lighted a flame under his ass. “Didn’ want a ‘no’, is all.” He was surprised to notice that he had spoken with the same sullen timbre he used when he complained to Hosea.

Luther gave him a look. “Woman’s been mewlin’ my ears off since you gone, ya think she gonna say no?”

The other man straightened and rolled his shoulders. He stood there like the owned the place but Luther wasn't fooled and could see the nervousness underneath that veneer of confidence.

The cook ambled over to the shelf with the whiskey and returned with two full shot glasses. 

“Youse gonna be fine,” he said, voice softer as he handed one to the cowboy who took it and threw back the drink.

"Gotta say, between robbin' a bank and this, I'd much rather rob the damn bank," was his dark muttering as he inspected the empty glass in his hand.

"Let's hope yer better at this than y'are with robbin' banks."

Arthur guffawed at that and paused to look Luther in the eye. "’M shit at both."

Luther's lips bowed as he sipped his drink. "A boy falls off a horse, he gonna sit down and cry. A man will dust off and get back up. That what makes him a man. Ya fell off. Happens. Now you gotta get back up. Simple as."

Arthur thought it ironic that this was pretty much a different iteration of Hosea's 'pick up the damn ball' and his lips twitched into a small broken smile.

"Sides," Luther added. "Relax. She gonna say yes."

"How you know that?"

Luther shrugged and returned to his steaks. Arthur expected something that questioned his intellect like Hosea probably would have done, but instead what followed was “D'ya know, one time a fool asked if I can cook blindfolded?" He flipped some steaks. "He said Luther, 'm gonna give you meat, but y'aint gonna know the kind, y'aint even gonna know the animal and I want ya to cook it perfect. Not too well and not rare - perfect." He grinned smugly. "That fool lost good money that day." He took Arthur's shot glass from him and put it in the sink. "How I know when it cooked right? I know. Same way. She gonna say yes."

Arthur nodded and rolled his shoulders again as Savigne exited the changing room, her old clothes in a bag.

"I never had these adjusted," she squirmed as she walked over. "They're tight on me now." She self consciously pulled her coat around her.

"Get outta my kitchen," Luther grumbled and turned his back to them.

"Don't miss me too much until Monday, Luther!" she called to him as they walked out.

"I miss ya like a hole in my shoe," he called back.

Once they exited the kitchen, Arthur picked up the rope he had left in the hallway.

“Why did you bring rope?”

He adjusted the coils around his shoulder as they walked out the building. “You’ll see,” was his casual answer.

She swallowed as pink dusted her cheeks. That flutter ignited in her stomach again and suddenly the night wasn’t as chilly and that wetness was back in her bloomers.

"What will people think when we walk into a hotel with rope on your shoulder, Arthur?” she tried for a scolding tone to dampen her own eagerness.

“That we ‘bout to have a good time?” he grinned at her.

They walked into the heart of Saint Denis and joined the sea of people who were eager to celebrate the weekend. The city was strumming with life - people walking and talking and eating and laughing and singing. It always fascinated Savigne how lively Saint Denis was and how profound the silence and solitude as soon as you left its borders. Twenty minutes from here, the Bayou was quiet and so was where her cabin sat. She ruminated on this idle thought as they walked and then they turned a corner and there was their destination, blazing with light.

“This one?!” she gaped. It was one of the most expensive hotels in the city. “How much money did you spend?”

“Much as it cost,” he said curtly. 

“Are you insane? Why? We have a perfectly nice cabin ready in a few days…”

“Woman, what I say ‘bout money?”

“I don’t know, what did you say?” was her sour question.

“Said ‘m doin’ it, you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout it.”

“Well someone has to because you clearly don’t,” she grumbled as he opened the door for her but her churlishness faltered when she stepped in. Glamorous would be an underwhelming word for it. The place sparkled and shone, everything was either alight or reflected light. Bright light and yellow light and mellow, soft, searing light, colored light, flame light and electrical light. People walked by, dressed in fine attires, hair coiled, mustaches oiled. She stood, suddenly very self conscious in her best attire which was pretty plain even compared to the uniforms of the staff who were swishing by with trays of drinks and food.

“Wanna eat first?” Arthur turned to her. “They have a restaurant here.”

She had never eaten here and would love to try it, but her stomach was in knots with excitement. “Maybe later.”

The man who wouldn’t stop nagging about food all day accepted that answer without the slightest objection, grabbed her hand and pulled her to the spectacular front desk. The receptionist gave them both a high browed head to toe but this flustered Arthur none. He quoted his name and his reservation and the man’s eyes widened to find it for the special suite.

“Mister Kilgore,” he confirmed. “Please sign here.”

They were given the keys and she walked after him.

"Special suite? Are you out of your mind?"

"See, this why I got rope," he drawled.

"Why's that?"

"Five weeks and yer clearly confused who in charge here.” His gaze was like open flame. “Think ya need some remindin’ little bird.”

She bit her cheeks. It was obvious that Arthur was getting into a mood. The kind of mood that ended up with her being fucked senseless.

When they entered the room he locked the door and habitually placed a pistol under the bed and then one in the bathroom. Then he strolled around opening and closing drawers, parting the curtains to look outside. It the far corner of the room was a massive bed - high and plush, cover pulled aside and ready to be slept on. Across it a table with a pitcher and glasses, some fruit and a bottle of champagne sitting in ice. Everything looked like it was taken out of a treasure trove - shiny and elegant and fancy and reminded her of Bronte’s grandiose mansion. She had the compulsion to take her shoes off so she wouldn’t dirty the beautiful carpet and dropped into the armchair next to the door to do that as he walked over and knelt in front of her.

“Here, let me,” he mumbled as he untied the boots. He peeled them off and she sighed as her swollen feet slid out. He threw them aside and gathered her feet and massaged them and she groaned in contentment, sinking into her chair. 

“God, that feels…divine,” she sighed as those big callused hands kneaded her soles, gently curled her toes and moved up her calves, thumbs pressing into her arch and fingers coiling around her ankles.

“Wanna take a bath with me?” was the soft question.

When she opened her eyes, he was gazing back, eyes churning with hunger. She felt another wave of wetness between her legs and shifted in the chair to deftly rub her thighs together.

“Naked?”

A smile flitted over his face and he chuckled lowly. “How else?”

"We never took a bath in the dark. Could be interesting?" she offered but he saw through her insecurity and grinned as if he took it as a challenge.

He rose up and pulled her along. “Come.”

She padded across the plush carpet and followed him to the massive bathroom with the huge tub. He dropped her hand and turned the knobs, checked the temperature of the water and adjusted it, then turned back to her. 

“It’s kind of bright in here,” she cleared her throat. Unlike the first hotel they had stayed at, this bathroom had its own light source and it shivered with a dim golden shade. He stepped up and started unbuttoning her shirt. “I can do this,” she scrambled back. Was it unreasonable to be shy in front of a man who had seen her naked hundreds of times? Absolutely. But that had been before she had turned into a blob. 

“I wanna do it,” he stepped up and brushed her hands away. Savigne knew that any kind of resistance from this point on would be met with an even harder push, so she dropped her hands and tried to submit. Submitting didn't come easy to her and maybe that's why he enjoyed it as much as he did. His eyes flicked up to her as his thick fingers dexterously weaved the small buttons through their holes. He pulled her shirt apart and guided it down her arms, loosely gathered it in a hand and gave it an underhanded toss across the room. Then the fingers crawled back up her chest and he ran his palms over her corset, thumbs brushing over the mounds of her breasts bursting upwards. His jaw worked and she swallowed, abashed but also hopelessly aroused by the way he was looking at her. He walked around her and pushed her hair over a shoulder as he pulled off the clasps in the back one by one. The water rose in the tub and rumbled like a river and the muted music and tinkling of laughter from the other rooms muffled through the walls.

When the last clasp was undone, he pulled the stiff corset off her and threw it over his shoulder. It clanked against the door and slipped down. His hands ran down her back, butterflying to the sides and gliding down her rib cage. He pressed himself flush against her, palms ghosting over her stomach, then up to her breasts. His breath hitched when he gently cupped them through the chemise and they filled his big hands. An open mouthed kiss on her neck as he breathed in her scent before he hummed into her ear and ran his tongue along the shell. She closed her eyes and swayed a little, her heart beating in her throat. Thick steam filled the room as his hands crawled back down to the waistband of her skirts and his fingers deftly undid the buttons. 

“Or we can light some candles instead…” she tried again. He ignored the suggestion, pushed her skirts down, had her step out of them, then kicked the pile backwards.

He walked back around and sat on the rim of the tub, tested the water, adjusted the knobs and looked through the fragrance bottles. He found lavender and emptied the small bottle into the tub. An explosion of suds and bubbles followed. “I think you were supposed to add just a little,” she laughed.

He pulled her in to stand between his legs, wet hands running up her calves and her thighs. “Pull up yer chemise,” he mumbled, eyes locked with hers.

She bit her lip and criss-crossed her hands on the hem, then hesitated.

“Savigne,” his voice was thick with warning. “Pull it up.”

She could see it settling in - his assertiveness. It was in the manner he was looking at her, the way his jaw was set, the confidence of his hands, the brazen appetite in his gaze. With every layer of clothing that was shed, his commanding virility grew. He could tear off the thin fabric with a swipe of his hand, but that’s not what he wanted. What he wanted was to make her do it.

She pulled off the chemise and crossed her arms, her breasts bulging under them. He chuckled darkly at her feeble attempts of resistance and grasped her wrists. He locked eyes with her as he pulled them apart, then pressed them to her sides. “Don’ make me bind you. That’s for later.”

His gaze glided over the fullness of her bust and his expression changed. She stood, feeling very vulnerable and exposed as he raked his eyes over her. His jaw went slack for a moment and he placed his palms on her waist, thumbs overlapping, then glided them up to cup her breasts. He softly kneaded, the expression on his face almost reverent, fascinated.

“Does it hurt?” was his raspy whisper.

“No,” she managed. “They’re just…sensitive.”

He roughly jerked her closer and she stumbled into him, hands flying to his shoulders to find her balance. He placed a long kiss underneath the curve of a breast, watching her. Her mouth fell open and the steam swirled around her head as he kissed higher, never breaking eye contact. Then he closed his lips around a dusky nipple and gently suckled and her eyes fluttered, digits burrowing into his strong shoulders. She gasped when she felt the liquid uncoil and he released her nipple and flitted his tongue over his lips. A droplet of thick yellow trickled down her breast and she made to wipe it off but he arrested her wrist. He twirled his tongue over his teeth, tasting it. Then he muttered, “Let me,” and ran the flat of his tongue over her nipple, blue eyes smoldering at her. She moaned despite herself at his brashness and he proceeded to trail fiery open mouthed kisses on her other breast. 

She sighed his name, heady and dizzy as her fingers brushed through his hair, pressing him closer. The heat in the room from the steam was nothing compared to the heat in her gut. She was so drenched, she felt a trickle run down a thigh. His hands glided down her flanks and hooked up around the waistband as he pulled her bloomers over her buttocks and off her legs. He groaned when he saw how wet she was and his pupils dilated as he ran a hand inside her thigh, smearing her juices before he cupped her mound. A tremble went through her at the feeling of his closed hand on her and he watched with a grin as she tried to rub her thighs together for friction.

After a moment he turned and shut off the water before he pulled her closer again and buried his face between her breasts, breathing hard. She carded his hair.

“What ‘bout the grub?” was his quiet question.

“I was assured it’s fine. But don't smush it.”

He blinked and looked up at her, momentary surprise flitting over his face. Then impatience darkened his features and he rose to quickly undo his shirt buttons. “Get in.”

She tested the water and found it deliciously hot but not searing, sat down on the rim and threw her legs in. She sank into the water and hugged her knees and watched him, amused by the fancy clothes flying across the room. The broad planes of his chest emerged, muscles folding and bunching as he hunched over a little to unbutton his trousers. Then those thick thighs and the long legs. His cock was already red, strained and upright and she swallowed as her own desire climbed a few notches at the sight of it. He stepped out of his boots and dismissively tore the trousers off his feet and stood for a moment, feet apart. Seeing him standing there, lean and beautiful like a Greek god made her self conscious of her own body again and she sunk a little lower between the hills of white foam. 

He stepped into the tub and sat back across from her. His eyes were two piercing blue dots behind a curling curtain of steam. “Come here,” was his low command and she obeyed, unfurling and crawling to sit on his lap. His hands, heavy and confident, danced around her shoulders, down her breasts, gentled around her bump and grasped her thighs. “Ya never looked more splendid,” he murmured against her lips before he kissed her, full and hungry.

She snorted a little against his mouth. “Ya don’ believe me, little bird?” he ran his teeth against her neck as his palms gripped her buttocks to position her closer.

“There is this thing called a mirror…” she mumbled into his hair as he worried her neck.

He blindly guided her right hand to his rock hard cock to make his point. She curled her fingers around it and he moaned into her neck, hands twisting into her hair to pull her head back to kiss up and down. Her confidence revived at his reaction, she pumped him a few times, then circled her thumb over his slit and he shuddered against her. 

“Christ, I missed you,” he hissed against her skin. She smiled, getting increasingly comfortable with the effect she was having on him. Her smile faltered when his fingers slid across her folds, expertly moving them aside to circle around her opening.

“Missed you too,” she stammered.

He dipped the tip of a finger in there, slowly corking it and a smug grin bloomed on his face at the whimper that fell from her lips.

His other hand manacled the back of her neck to pull her in. His tongue invaded her mouth, brutish and rough, his kisses open mouthed and aggressive. She melted into him as he ran his fingers back up her folds, then cupped her face so he can relentlessly kiss her breath away. Arousal, already making her mind hazy, swelled fuller in her as he pushed her hand off his cock and squeezed her hips to tell her what he wanted. She rose on her knees and bracketed his thighs and slowly lowered herself. He nipped at her lower lip and mouthed her jaw as she felt the swollen head of his cock push through and gasped as he pierced her. His fingers dimpled her hips as he pulled back to look into the milky water. A helpless groan fell from his lips as he watched himself disappear inch by inch between her folds. She stilled for a moment when he was fully sheathed to enjoy the familiar feeling of fullness and his throbbing, twitching cock in her.

“Don’ move or this gonna be over real soon,” he rasped, voice strained as he leaned back to rest his head on the rim.

She smiled a wide smile and clenched her muscles around him and he hissed, eyes flying open.

“Sorry, did you say something?” was her innocent question.

He got as far as “Woman…” and then his words devolved into a moan as she ground her hips. His hands flew to her hips again and she braced her hands against his chest and started to rock up and down with a deliciously unhurried and teasing rhythm. The water sloshed and churned around them as she rode him, languid and deep. His head fell back to the rim of the tub and his breathing strained into pants. The scowl on his face betrayed his desperation to hold off his pleasure, but she was amused to see that it he was losing the battle. Already she could feel his legs straightening, his toes curling as he absentmindedly massaged her flesh and mildly notched his hips to thrust back into her.

God, it felt so arousing to see someone as big and strong as Arthur melt under her, his face slack with pleasure, his arms corded from the effort to control his grip on her flesh, his hips twitching involuntarily, his breath catching. She felt his thundering heart under her palms and straightened her arms to sit back as she set a faster gait and he could do nothing but exhale with mute pleasure, too lost for words. His nostrils flared and he chuffed like a horse, a big stallion she was in full control of with the mere lock of her thighs. In this moment he was hers, body and soul, and would do whatever she asked. If she commanded it, this stallion would gallop until his heart exploded or jump into a ravine. 

She felt him grow larger and harder inside her and knew he was close, so very desperately close. Even for a man of formidable self control, the desire that had built up over the last month and a half was simply too enormous and brooked no further delay. The notion shivered the coil in her own gut and she angled herself a little. Her eyes rolled back when his cock hit that spot in her. She gasped and bounced harder to feel it again, all her insecurities forgotten. Distantly she heard him mumble but she couldn’t make out what he said as she chased her pleasure, so close that her fingers brushed at it as it darted around. His upwards thrusting turned desperate and he exhaled her name one final time before his big hands clamped on her hips and locked her down on himself as he bucked up into her. His stomach muscles went rigid for a moment, a low keen fell from his slack jaws and then he was unraveling under her. She felt the heat explode inside her and she took to the air with him, horse and rider both clearing that high jump and flying over it with mingled wails and moans.

The pleasure was like a pent up beast that tore out of its cage. She heard herself choke with the intensity of her orgasm as the water slopped over the brim and Arthur arched under her as her nails dug into his chest. Her mind whited out as her body flailed and convulsed to prolong that thrill, to milk it to its very last drop. 

A good while later she collapsed on his chest, breathlessly gulping air against his shoulder. His pulse was so hard, she felt it thrumming against her breast. It took a long time for the water to calm down and the background noise of music and laughter to sneak back in again. He released his bruising grip of her hips and palms ran up her spine and pressed on her shoulder blades. She snuggled against him, slack with contentment. It had been months since their regular Valentine visits and she realized how much she had missed floating in his arms in warm water in the afterglow. So she lied, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, content against his thudding heart, his hands caressing her back, fingers tracing her ribs and the bumps of her spine, curling in her nape and massaging her neck. She dozed in and out of a flutter of sleep as he softened and shifted to pull out and her thighs relaxed around him. 

She was distantly listening to an aria playing in one of the rooms when his chest inflated against her. 

“Heard there’s some fool pining for ya.” Her eyes fluttered open. His hands caressed down her back, glided over her thighs and back up. “What’s his name?”

She swallowed her surprise and thought on what to say. His fingers curled in her hair and he tugged her head up. She sighed and rose, elbows braced across his chest to meet his eyes.

“‘None of your business’ is his name.”

His eyebrows cocked, something in his gaze shifted and she thought that maybe that had been the wrong thing to say.

“I thought you were dead, Arthur,” she flustered. “I just talked to him because of the child, that’s all.”

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times you met him?”

“Why are you asking?”

His jaw muscles worked. “‘M askin’.”

She huffed and looked away. A dripping hand rose from the water and gripped her chin and turned it back, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Three.”

His eyebrows rose a little more as he sat up. “Must be some guy.”

“He was nice,” she said evenly.

“Name?”

She glowered at him and set her jaw.

“Ya like this guy, do you?” he concluded narrow eyed, and sat up straighter still. She dropped her arms and made to move off but his hands clamped on her thighs and kept her in place. “Look at me.” He was unfazed by her glare. “Answer.”

“Fuck you.”

“Think ya just done that,” he said with dark amusement.

She tried to get off him again but he was far stronger and didn’t allow it.

“Listen here,” he growled darkly. “My woman. My child. My family.”

Savigne rolled her eyes. “Is that why you were camping away for a week?”

“Was coolin’ off,” he said flatly. “You was mine then as y’are now. Who is this guy?”

“Why? Are you going to beat him up like you were going to with Dunham?”

“The hell kinda man you think I am?!” he protested. She gave him a skeptical look. “Just gonna stretch his ear, is all.” Her arms exploded out of the water as she tried to lever herself off him and he laughed and arrested her in place. “Calm down, ‘m jokin’.”

“Bullshit!”

“Yer right,” he sighed, chuckling and ignoring her struggle to break free. “I mean to tell him to stay the hell away from my wife.”

That froze her in place.

He looked at her for a long time and she looked back, unsure what to say. Then he gently pushed her off her knees and back against the other end of the tub and followed to settle between her legs, hulking over her.

His hand turned up her face as he kissed her, deep but gentle, a rolling of his tongue against her teeth. 

“Member that day in the Bayou?” he whispered against her lips before his tongue glided against hers. She nodded and ran her palms over his broad shoulders and the warm muscles of his chest. “Took you against that tree…” he kissed the corner of her lips, then her neck. “You sang so sweet…” She inhaled the scent of lavender, legs floating in the warm water to tangle with his. His hand found her left leg and pulled up her thigh to curl it around his back to imitate the day. His other hand found hers and guided it back to his buttocks.

“Then after…I asked what you wan'ed. ‘Member?” he mumbled against her pulse.

She nodded again, her heart thudding so fiercely, she pressed her lips so it wouldn’t jump out and kill her in the process. 

“Ask me what I want, Savigne,” he sighed into her ear, his arm coiling around her waist to hold her up against the tub.

She swallowed to clear her throat and struggled with the words but he didn’t push, just kissed her neck and her cheek. “What do you want?” was her late hoarse whisper. 

He pulled back to gaze at her, noses almost touching. “Want you to be my wife,” was his low whisper.

Someone had asked for her hand once and it had been all candlelight dinner and beautiful bouquet of flowers followed by poetic words. But it hadn’t taken her breath away as it did now. Time stretched between them but he didn’t seem to mind and watched her as she tried to get air into her lungs. It shouldn’t feel as momentous as it did. They had been practically living like a wedded couple for a good while now.

And yet…

Marriage.

Until now, merely a necessity. Something she had resigned herself to suffer through for the sake of her baby.

But now at last a shadow had fallen on that child sitting in an orphanage corner with her mussed hair and her dirty clothes. Because despite all her churlish attempts to repel affection, despite her prickly armor and her sharp tongue, despite all her imperfections, someone had chosen her over others.

Her breath hitched. 

“Go on, little bird,” was the gentle encouragement. A thumb brushed across her lower lip.

The etiquette for a proper lady was to demurely say she will consider it, that she will sleep on it, because it wouldn’t do to look too eager or too desperate.

“I accept,” was her quiet exhale.

A smile broke out on his face, so intensely bright that it ached her insides. He leaned in and kissed her again. He had kissed her hundreds of times - thousands - but it felt strangely like a first kiss, gentle and timid. She coiled her arms around his neck and kissed him back, excited and bewildered both. He sat up straight and pulled her with him, arms pressing her shoulders into himself as she settled on his lap. His kiss deepened and became firmer, fiercer as their excitement bloomed into lust. His hand fumbled blindly to pull up the plug and she felt the pull of the water as it drained. He stood up and aided her out, then walked into her and pressed her against the wall as his lips latched onto hers, hungry and frantic now. She felt his semi hard cock against her thigh and gasped with renewed arousal.

She laughed into his mouth as he yanked a towel of the hook to hastily pat them dry. “Wait…” she chuckled between kisses, “…you’re not…doing it…right.” She took the towel from him in an attempt to do better, but he got impatient halfway through it, wrestled it off her hands and flung it away, then dipped down to hook a hand under her knees and lift her up. She laughed again as he marched to the bed. He crawled on her and kissed her again.

“We gonna do it my way now,” he whispered before he climbed off the bed, walked away and returned with the rope. Savigne swallowed. The one time he had used the rope on her, it had been a bewildering, explosive experience. He had enjoyed taking her all tied up and defenseless and she had enjoyed how crazy it drove him with lust. 

He stacked the pillows against the headboard and motioned her to sit back on them.

“Hands,” he rasped and the excitement in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She crossed her wrists and he pulled them up to tie them against the top of the headboard. She sat up and flexed her arms and found the knot not painfully tight, but firm. He pushed her legs apart and settled on his knees between them and kissed her again, now with renewed urgency.

He kissed his way down her breasts and moaned as he gently weighed them on his palms again. She arched her back against the pillows as he kissed further down, hands pressing her legs apart. The first contact of his hot tongue against her folds made her jerk up with a whimper and she instinctively closed her thighs on his head. He pressed her open again and ran the flat of his tongue across and she moaned, twitching against him.

“Don’ move yer legs,” he commanded casually.

She tried. Really tried. But the bastard knew all her weak spots and set to work on her with that formidable tongue and she found herself helplessly shifting and writhing until her feet were beating the mattress and her knees were jerking.

He rose up, the look on his face dark and feral. “What I say?”

“I’m…trying,” she whined, uselessly pulling at her tied up hands in frustration.

He clicked his tongue with mock regret and rose to retrieve the second rope. “Guess we gonna have to do somethin’ ‘bout that,” he snapped the rope.

“I don’t need it, I’ll keep still,” she stammered nervously. He ignored it and coiled a loop with practiced ease and pushed it up her left thigh. His eyes, stormy and pupils blown flicked at her as he leaned in around her to thread the rope through the bars of the headboard to her other side and then he wound it around her right thigh.

She chewed her lip when he settled back, showed her a flash of teeth and slowly pulled the rope. It straightened, tightened and moved her thighs apart. She reflexively strained against it, but his hold was stronger. When he was satisfied with the angle he tied the loose end to the headboard and crouched in front of her again. His gaze was as hot as an oven as it raked over her and she flushed with the shame and excitement of the exposure as he drank her in. His cock was erect again and when her eyes fell on it he casually pumped himself, watching her face flush further with arousal.

His hand gentled over her bump, then brushed down to cup over her cunt, fingers ghosting over her folds. A sob fell off her lips as he kissed her, suckled on her breast and dived back down to kiss the inside of her thigh before he placed an open mouthed kiss on her vagina, then another. He chuckled in satisfaction watching her face melt, eyes devilish before he grasped her buttocks and angled her up and went to work.

His tongue danced up and down, teasing at her entrance and flicking over her clit before he sucked it into his mouth. Then, while he held it behind his lips, his tongue did a rapturously slow pass over it. Then did it again. And again, slowly picking up speed. She cried out and her hips jerked forward as her legs shivered with the need to close. She could feel him smile against her even as he sucked at her clit, flicking his tongue up and down over it, stroking it over and over again and pressing her closer and closer towards the edge of a cliff.

She wailed softly and gripped the rope that was holding her hands and strained under the assault of his hot tongue as he licked her into a frenzy. The rope bit into her thighs the harder she pulled and somehow even that pain was delicious. She moaned his name helplessly, shamelessly as she neared that edge, delirious at the prospect of falling down. Then suddenly her legs went rigid, her head thudded against the headboard and she flew off. 

Her second orgasm felt endlessly long. Like there was a mile long noodle sitting in her abdomen all rolled up and he had found the end and was slurping it out of her. Pleasure unspooled inside her and he pulled and pulled and pulled as she trashed above him, whining and convulsing, rattling the bed. Afterwards she bonelessly fell back into the pillows stacked behind her, legs shaking from being held open at the angle they were. He kissed her inner thighs and traveled up to suckle on her breasts, then kissed her neck. 

He settled on his knees between the sprawl of her legs. She felt his cock at her entrance and tried to close her legs again, too scrambled to say anything.

He leaned over, an arm around her waist and shushed against her ear while he glided in with ease and didn’t stop until he was completely sheathed. He hissed and stilled as her inner walls fluttered on his cock with the aftershocks of her continuing orgasm.

“I…can’t…again,” she tried but she knew her protestations would fall on deaf ears.

“We’ll see…’bout…that,” he panted in her ear as he pulled out and slowly glided back in. His beard was wet from her juices and his skin still damp from the bath. His hips ground into her, then back out before he bucked back in. He pulled her ass over the pillow to curl his body over her so he wasn’t slapping against her belly as he rocked in and out with vigorous enthusiasm.

She gasped and his lips were on hers, suckling and biting and panting hard against her mouth. Then he moaned hard as his right hand gripped one of the bars of the headboard behind her and his left hand palmed her buttock to hold her hips in place. The headboard creaked and groaned as he bucked into her, making the bed jerk across the floor. He angled slightly to the left and hit that spot in her that made color burst behind her eyelids. She screamed in surprise and he huffed with satisfaction and did it again and again. Her legs flailed uselessly to anchor against something, but the devil’s knot held firm as he fucked her up into the pillows. 

She wailed his name again, feeling herself hurdled like a straw in a hurricane, spiraling higher and higher. The grip on her butt cheek seared and her simpering moans were lost under the noise of the headboard thudding frantically against the wall.

“That’s it,” he puffed into her ear, “go on.”

Her spine arched under him so hard, she thought she would snap it and still he fucked her on relentlessly, mercilessly.

“I’m…I’m…I’m…” she stuttered, no sentence in her head, just gibberish falling from her lips.

“Come for me,” he drawled as he bit down on that worried spot between her neck and her shoulder and the sting of pain sent her over the edge with a cascade of moans. She clamped down on him and his teeth pulled away from her skin and he barked a primal sound as he came, too. His hand on her buttocks pressed her against himself while his cock pierced deeper still, his grip on the headboard bar made the wood sing and he rumbled in ecstasy as he released himself a second time.

The experience felt surreal, almost divine as for a moment, she lost sense of where her body ended and his begun, couldn’t conceive them as separate instead of just one organism thrumming with waves of pleasure. Something in her cracked open and spilled all over, sprawling into every corner and niche, seeping into every finger and toe and buzzing in her hair roots, pulsing behind her eyes.

She felt faint as her body went slack against his hold and her arms snapped up when she fell back on the pillows. He quickly pulled the end of the rope and it unraveled easily to loosen her legs. Then he pulled the other knot and her arms fell off as her body awkwardly settled on the mound of pillows.

He pulled out and away, then extricated the pillows from underneath her to lay her flat.

“Hey,” he panted, gripping her chin to turn her head. “Savigne?”

It felt distant, like he was talking to her while she was asleep.

He shifted again and she felt the mattress slope under her when he placed his knees around her hips and hunched over and cupped her face. “Hey, you okay?” he puffed against her face. “Look at me.”

Her eyelids felt like lead but she pushed and with monumental effort managed to lift them. 

A huff of relief against her cheek as he dropped his forehead on her shoulder. The ceiling came into view and swam, then settled.

Then his face again. “Woman, say something.”

She opened her mouth and croaked the first thing that came to her mind: “I…’cept.”

His warm body around her shook with quiet laughter. He kissed her temple and turned her face up to meet his eyes. “You okay?”

“Think so,” she inhaled as the euphoria slowly dissipated like smoke and she shrunk back into her own body.

He inspected her wrists and ran his fingers over the rope bruises on her thighs. His palms bloomed on her bump. “Think the grub is okay?”

She swallowed and nodded. How to explain to him that she had never felt more okay, more alive, more unworried? Too many words. 

The worry on his face melted into cockiness as he watched her shudder still in the aftermath of enormous pleasure. He placed a hand next to her head and bent down to kiss her, lips soft and gentle. Then he licked and kissed the mark of his bite on her shoulder. In the aftermath of every wild coupling, a venerating, gentler Arthur emerged to handle her like she was fine china. 

He rose from the bed and she watched him walk to the bathroom naked, his body firm and hard and perfect. He came back with a wet towel to sit at the edge. He wiped her thighs and cleaned her up before he slid a pillow under her head.

“You touch meagain, ‘m screamin’ forelp,” she slurred.

He chuckled and threw the towel away. “Been too long,” he drawled, apologetic. He sat further down to massage her feet again and she groaned in pleasure. There was a long silence as they enjoyed the afterglow and eased back into the tranquility that came with the release of pent up need. Her mind was drunk and waffled between thoughts and memories and the perfection of the present moment. Marriage, she thought. All my life I said I didn't need a husband. That might be true. But turns out I want one all the same. This one.

“Just so you know,” she sighed with contentment. “I plan to be a horrible wife.”

“That so?” was his amused question. 

“Yeah,” she mumbled with exhaustion, fighting sleep off. “All that ‘obey your husband’ stuff is nonsense.”

He hummed and one by one stretched her toes and she sighed with pleasure. There was a moment of silence. “I want to ask you something,” she drawled at last. “But I don’t know how honest you will be.”

“Said no lies. But I get one in return.”

“Okay,” she chewed her lip and owlishly blinked up at him. “Are you doing this for the grub?”

“No.”

“Really?”

He dropped her foot and climbed on the bed to lie next to her. She made room on her pillow and he nestled his head nose to nose. 

“Meant to ask before. Long before.”

She smiled at that, relieved. It was no gimmick, no glitch after all - he wanted her beyond "doing the right thing". The idea vibrated in her chest like the buzz of bees.

“My turn.”

“Okay.”

For a moment she was worried that he would ask for Connor’s name again but instead he said “What’s the worm ya been turnin’ in yer head?”

“What do you mean?” was her attempt at playing stupid.

“Ya know what I mean,” he said drily.

“I thought you would be angry with me,” was her late admission.

“For?”

She chewed her lip. “The grub.”

He blinked in surprise. “Why?”

“That’s more than one question.”

“Woman…!” was his frustrated outburst.

“Alright, alright!" Then, softer: "Because you said you resented Eliza.”

An earthquake passed over his face and she sobered a little at his reaction. “I’m sorry to bring it up!” she said hastily. “But you asked!”

“That…” he stammered, “Savigne, that ain’t the same.”

She ghosted her fingers over the O’Driscoll wound. “It’s pretty much the same.”

“No it ain’t,” he scoffed with a tinge of irritation. “Couldn’ be more different. Eliza and I - told ya, we wasn’ well matched. I fucked her once drunk, that it.”

“But,” she tried timidly, “you were angry about the child. You said you were.”

He took a deep breath. “Was a different man then,” was his quiet response. “Didn’ wanna leave the gang. Felt like she was trappin’ me. Didn’ want her. But I came to love Isaac.”

She ruminated on this in silence.

“Savigne, ya been cookin’ up in yer head that I was gonna feel the same?” There was palpable offense in his tone.

“It was a plausible deduction,” she said defensively.

“You mean like that bullshit ya rattled off in Saint Denis when I had to chase you ‘round town after Mary?”

“That was plausible, too.”

“And wrong,” he countered flatly. His eyes narrowed. “You also thought I wasn’ gonna follow you to a cabin. That I was just fuckin’ you like that deceptive man.”

“That was also plaus-”

“And wrong.”

She pressed her lips.

He shifted closer. “If she had asked as you did, would have said no. I said yes to you. Why would you think yerself the same?”

“You said yes to me, I know that,” she whispered. “But you didn’t say yes to the grub.” She worried her lip. “And you never mentioned children.”

He blinked with disbelief and his voice rose in irritation again. “The hell kinda man ya think I am!? Why would I talk ‘bout kids when ya said you couldn’ have any?”

“Doctor said no tension,” she rattled off quickly.

He snorted despite himself. “Listen here,” he grumbled. “I want this. Ain’t doin’ this outta duty or obligation. I want this. Honest. No lies.”

She smiled a wide smile. Someone pushed a huge boulder off her chest. “Okay.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear and ran a finger down her arm. Suddenly a knock on the door. Arthur tensed like an animal and sat up. Before she could react he slunk off the bed, silent as a cat and grabbed his gun, then walked to stand a few feet away from the door, shoulders squared. She hastily threw the covers over herself.

“What d’ya want?” was his menacing grumble.

“Everything okay, sir?” was the muffled call from the other side. “Guests said…” a cleared throat, “…just wanted to check if everything is alright in there.”

Color shot up Savigne’s face and she pulled the covers all the way up to her chin. He, on the other hand, relaxed as if he wasn’t standing there butt naked, gun at hand.

“We fine,” was his casual response. He shot Savigne a smug look over his shoulder. She hissed like an adder and pulled the cover further up to her eyes.

“Mind if I come in to check?”

“Check what, you fool?”

“Just…wouldn’t want you to sleep on a broken bed. People said there was a lot of…they said it sounded like the frame snapped and well…if that’s the case, sir, we just wouldn’t want that. Could offer another room...” was the timid blabber.

Savigne was sure she was going to die of shame tomorrow at checkout and she swore silently to never come near this hotel again - scratch that, she swore she wasn't even going to visit this neighborhood again - but Arthur grinned from ear to ear.

“Bed’s fine.” Then he grew serious. “But y’aint comin’ in. Cause if you come in you gonna see my wife naked and then…” Arthur explained as if he was talking to an idiot. “…then I gotta shoot ya, don’ I?”

“I understand sir, please enjoy the rest of your stay.” A hasty pattering of feet followed and then, silence.

His cocky grin faltered a little when he turned to find her glaring. "What?"

“I’m never ever…EVER going anywhere with you again. EVER!” she hissed and pulled the cover over her head.

He snorted and walked over to glide the gun under the bed. “What ‘bout the restaurant?” he asked blithely.

“Anywhere!” was her muffled yelp. “Ever!”

“Was still worth it,” was his shameless mumble as he turned down the lights before he crawled up to lie behind her.

[jessjad]

Unexpected

Chapter 15 - Epiloge

Summary: After a Halloweenparty Y/N actually didn't want to got to, her life seems to be turned around. The reason is a very stubborn Supe that seems to have her in his visier. Is it just a coincidance or more?

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 881

Warnings: none really, again some medical freedom

A/N: Here we are. The last chapter. Do we still remember the little secret Y/N had? Well, here comes the answer to that. All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

5 Months later...

"You really don't need to come with me." Y/N said for the third time while she was putting on her coat.

She turned around to look back into her living space just to see Ben already standing there, waiting for her. He was wearing some black jeans, a dark green Henley, his most favorite boots and a very stubborn and determinate look on his face.

"I'm coming with." was all he said, his arms crossed infront of his chest.

One thing Y/N had learned in the last months was that the supe who didn't left her side anymore was a lot more work than she had thought. It was tough for him to get used to the new world he had woken up in. The technology, the new worldview of men and women. Y/N knew that he had felt lost.

After everything that has happened with Homelander on school side, mankind screamed for a change and the overthrow of Vought. Most people didn't want to be around supes anymore and they questioned if it was still necessary to have superhuman people on the loose. The discussion did not end, especially with recurring footage that the world should never have seen. Bloody, horrific splatter that showed how much the supes just did not care.

Everything Ben had lived for, worked for, was now the worst thing of all and he did not know what to do with it. The once most loved man had lost his worth and he just couldn't handle it. This drove even her to despair sometimes.

"Okay, okay." Y/N gave in.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in Doctor Field's consulting room, waiting. Doctor Field was a specialist in DNA research and nuclear medicine. He was recommended to Y/N after she explained her new situation to her previous doctor. While Y/N sat quietly in one of the chairs, Ben paced around the room.

"Ben, can you please sit down?"

"Where the fuck is this mountebank?" Ben said, ignoring her question. "Back in my day they never left me fucking waiting."

He sounded annoyed, but Y/N heared that he was a little on edge too. And she could not blame him. She hadn't felt any different when she first told Ben about her appointment with Doctor Field. Of course he immediately wanted to know why. But she found it difficult to find the right words. By now, Y/N knew that he had an abandonment problem and it was difficult for her to know how he would react to this news.

So she explained to him that they had Alzheimer's in the family. After her grandma showed the first signs, Y/N's mum had herself tested, but nothing was found in her case. So Y/N had dared to take the test too, but her test came back positive. She had inherited the ApoE4 gene twice. Which meant she would most likely get sick. Ben then disappeared for three days.

"Sorry I kept you waiting." the door opened all of a sudden and startled both of them. "But now I'm here. So let's not waste any more time."

The doctor sat down behind his desk and opend up Y/N's file. Now Ben also sat down next to his woman. Eventhough he looked normal he couldn't deny that he was a little worried now. But only minimally.

"So? What are my results?" Y/N asked nervously, but doctor Field did not answer right away.

"To be honest, I've never seen anything like this before." Well, that did not really help. "Your original test results were several years ago now. So we repeated the tests using today's standards. Normally the results should not have changed much. But still... it's different in this case."

Y/N and Ben saw how his eyes drifted from one to the other.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben wanted to know.

Ben had asked Y/N almost the same question after he came back three days later. The argument that had ensued afterward because he had simply left Y/N alone and then acted as if it had never happened had ended in wild, hot sex and his word that he just had to get out, getting high and brake a few things. And Y/N believed him.

"The ApoE4 gene has... changed. There is a certain blueprint for every gene, but for you it looks different now. It has changed. The radioactive radiation you've been exposed to for so long seems to be affecting the gene."

"How?" Y/N asked surprised.

Did that mean, that there was still hope? With one quick look to Ben, she saw that he seemed to think the same thing.

"To fully determine that we need to make further tests." But now doctor Field was looking at Ben, not Y/N.

"No fucking way." Ben stared back.

"To fully understand what has happened here, we need to find out how the radioactive radiation affects you. You're a supe."

"Fuck off!" he shouted. "I'm not gonna let you do some tests on me like I'm a fucking lab rat."

"Ben..." Y/N tried to calm him down, but she knew it was uselss.

"No fucking way!"

And as the discussion continued, Y/N had to grin. No matter how this turned out, she wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: This is it. I really liked these two. 🥹 Aaaand I left the ending open on purpose. Maybe I'll come back to them. 😊

Thanks to everyone who gave this story a try, reblogged or commented on it. It really meant a lot to me! 💜 And maybe we'll see eachother on my next story. 🤗

@lyarr24 @k-slla @leigh70 @deadlydivergentgirl @deans-spinster-witch

@chriszgirl92 @bitchykittenconnoisseur

[sobeksewerrat]

✨and🏳️‍🌈 with Hazbin for the ask game

(Also do I have permission to rant about Alastor to you. I hate that fucker so much.)

(yes you do. Please do it actually)

Note: added the cut cos I ended up yapping

✨what draws you towards your hyperfixation? what is interesting about it?

Tough one. Honestly part of it is that I cannot control my AuDHD and part of it is that it has a lot of potential and possible ideas?? I find myself to be more attached to media I can play around with, only God knows how many TMF fanfics, wips and AUs I used to have, and Hazbin is perfect for that.

Besides, I would consider myself to be religious and I'm quite interested in stories based on mythology and religion, and the core concept of Hazbin intrigued me as a Muslim (funfact! In Islam hell is temporary for most people iirc LMFAO). Also, what better way to explore my religious trauma?!

And it's chock-full of potentially interesting characters and dynamics that go unexplored, so that ties back into the first point.

And last but not least, I tend to be a fan of objectively bad and/or very controversial stuff (*coughs* danganronpa, mlb, Jeff the killer-)

I could yap forever about my love-hate relationship with Hazbin but I think I should stop here for now.

🏳️‍🌈do you have any headcanons (lgbt, race, neuro, etc) that are important to you?

YES!! TOO MANY ACTUALLY!!! Here are some of my faves :3

Adam is SWANA, mostly projecting but all abrahamic religions originated from the SWANA region soooo (obviously the term SWANA and the region prolly didn't exist when Adam was first created but shush) And my Eve is black BTW!

Transmasc Adam!! This headcannon is so, so important to me. So important I created multiple AUs with lore documents about it. I could write an essay about why I headcannon him as that. Multiple, actually.

Albino Lute!! I hc they're SWANA too (and Heavenborn, don't ask how, idk either) , but they have albinism (her natural eye colour is very light blue, they wear gold contacts).

NONBINARY LUTE WITH SHE/THEY PRONOUNS ‼‼‼

the exorcists, mainly Lute n Vaggie, as Adam's daughters (biologically or otherwise)!! I can't live without that headcannon and I'm so fucking upset there's not enough content about it out there

Autistic Lute and Cain (my oc at least). They inherited it from Adam. And Eve has anxiety, we've established that. She also has OCD. Trust me. And ADHD Abel. And Vaggie with PTSD (they all have it but her especially

AroAce Charlie and Angel Dust!! Ik they're bi and gay respectively, but who says they can't be both?

AroAce Lesbian Lute too.

Asexual Adam!! I already wrote an essay as to why I hc that but since then the hc expanded and I can write a better, updated one. Won't be as lengthy as my hypothetical trans Adam one, but still full of yapping. 

Adam wears his mask not out of insecurity (for the most part) or protection (that thing is LED, it ain't protective) but because he was recognised by one of his children during the first Extermination (even though he had already transitioned by then). Let's just say that didn't turn out well, and Adam was unresponsive for days. 

Adam is genuinely afraid of most things, even silly stuff to us like the dark. Because even though us modern people have the privilege of artificial lights, not living in the wild, medicine, etc.- he didn't. He was literally a caveman. A fever could kill anyone in his family. The night meant being at risk of being eaten. Water can and will kill you because of the bazillion bacteria inside. Winter meant death if you didn't have a fire going 24/7 or covered yourself up with anything. But, he hides his fears because he thinks they're fucking embarrassing (even though it's very clearly untreated trauma)

Adam loves his kids, truly. He fucked up A LOT (killed thousands of them and the whole Vaggie situation), but that doesn't mean he hates them.he just learned not to get attached to them. 

ADAM ‼ HAS ‼ ABANDONMENT ‼ ISSUES‼

Adam lowkey feels he doesn't deserve his spot in Heaven.

I literally came up with this like an hour or two ago with @an-theduckin but Adam actually did believe in redemption once and tried to advocate for it. Till he didn't. Wonder why that is 👀 (got a fic idea I won't finish. Dw abt it)

Adam gaining weight as a form of healing‼ I imagine he was deathly skinny on Earth due to food insecurity, and even though he improved after they invented agriculture and got better at hunting, he was still clearly unhealthy (and popping out the entire human population at the time didn't help). And also he just likes his appearance this way (fuck you Lucifer and your stupid fat joke)

ADAM LOVED HIS WIFE!!! SHE LOVED HIM TOO!!! OH MY GOD GUYS PLEASE GET IT RIGHT.

In a perfect world, Adam would've been Charlie's uncle/father figure. 

Lute and Vaggie cared about each other, things just kind of…well, yk how it ended. Lute has immense amounts of guilt over the whole situation, but they'll never admit it. Especially not after Vaggie started being involved the Lucifer's fucking daughter. 

Adam's secretly a feminist. I'm not even gonna elaborate, figure out my reasoning yourself. 

Vaggie grieved Adam and her fallen sisters after they died in the finale. Of course, she'll never admit it. (I HAVE A FIC WIP ABOUT THIS I HOPE TO FINISH SOMEDAY!!)

Gamer and Fandom kid Lute. This hc means so so much to me! I originally stole it from @bluexjayy ! They're really into cringey fandoms too (mainly danganronpa, FNAF, undertale and the creepypasta fandom- probably mlp too). Secretly writes fanfiction.

I have SO MANY hcs for Stan and I's Cain, Abel and Eve but I doubt anybody wants to hear them sooo

Redhead Lilith. It was ginger in Eden, turned blood red when she became a sinner. She dyes it blonde.

Annnddddd I think I should stop now oh my god I'm so sorry for yapping again Thanks for the ask though!! Please feel free to rant about Alastor.

[noa-de-cajou]

Day 17 : Washing something / Blurry image / The ultimate horror

Dolmund belongs to @corneille-but-not-the-author

The following text contains mention of relationship abuse and trauma and just. Well. References to Leonova. Which comes with a whole lotta ptsd.

Listen. I like my things clean.

Khaliun used to tease me about it, you’re such a cleaning freak, and that never failed to get a rise out of me, I'm a surgeon, Khaliun, of course those godsforsaken instruments need to be spotless or at least sanitized do you want RUST in your RAW ASS WOUND-

She'd laugh and say Ether, I'm kidding!

Said she couldn't help herself, that I was cute when angry.

Leonova sure as hell didn't find it cute when I plunged my scissors into her eyes. She was into a whole bunch of things, seemed to really enjoy gouging my eye out, but clearly the opposite wasn't well received. Should have felt satisfying to give her a taste of her own medicine – doctor pun intended – but it didn't.

Not only did it feel gross but now the blood won’t come off.

Her blood on my scissors, his gift.

I've been scrubbing with all the products I found but it's still not back to its original color. It’s still red, brownish, incrusted, like rust, and it's. Not. Coming. Off.

It wasn’t meant to be used like this. It wasn’t… It’s scissors. Not even surgical scissors. It’s to cut hair, hair, not threads, especially not flesh –

Cut hair. Cut hair. She cut it. My hair. I rub my hand against the back of my neck. It's short. It’s okay. It's short. I cut it. I cut it myself. Nothing to grab, nothing to sell, I'm fine. I’m okay.

Alright. Back to scrubbing.

It's gonna come off eventually. It's gotta come off.

That cloth I'm using's way too dirty. Can't even be called a cloth, that's a rag at best. Those scissors deserve better.

What would have happened if he didn't give those to me? How would I have escaped? Maybe if I used the knives on the table? Who am I kidding, I could barely stand, let alone outrun her.

I would have died. Alone in that basement, killed by the woman I loved most, with no one to tell where I was, no tomb, no memory, all of those years for nothing-

I scrub harder.

Even if it’s useless.

Fuck, it's been, like, an hour, when is it gonna…

Maybe never.

It’s ruined. I ruined it. She ruined everything. Now I won't be able to even cut my hair without seeing those damn stains. And she's a vampire so she’ll regenerate while I'll have to see this constantly.

You know what, lying to me for years and tearing off my eye was already bad enough, but sure, let’s say that was fine, but trying to ruin the only things that I have left from him, to sully his memory, my memories like that, it's the last fucking straw, now it's midnight and this bitch has gotten me scrubbing blood that had three years to dry off a fucking pair of scissors and… and…

It's not coming off.

Maybe she cut my hair with it too. My memories are too hazy. I can't remember. I don't want to remember. I want to erase it.

It’s not coming off.

I want to puke.

I scrub and scrub and scrub and scrub and scrub but it's not coming off it’s still there I remember everything and my eye hurts and my chest is too damn tight and I don’t want to remember.

Everything's blurry, I can barely see anything now, come on, get it together, you shouldn't cry for this, you've been through worse and…

And the worse in question is in those stains.

It’s not coming off, it's not coming off, fuck this, fuck everything, I hate this, why do I even bother, why won't it FUCKING-

“Ether?”

Shit. Shit. I scrub harder. Harder. Come on. Come on please please please-

“Ether, I'm coming in.”

No no no it’s still there I have to get it clean before-

The door opens. I squeeze my eyes shut, a tear escapes. Dolmund’s there. I can't see him but I know he’s standing there. Shit.

“What the hell are you doing kneeling on the floor?”

Can’t he mind his own damn business for once? How do I explain this? How do I explain…

“It won't come off.”

Great. Amazing. Couldn’t have sounded more pathetic if I tried. My voice doesn’t even remotely sound like mine. Good job, Ether.

Dolmund walks up to me. I'm so hunched over it makes him taller.

“... Again?”

Yeah. Again. I guess I just never learn. He doesn't even sound mad or disappointed and that's probably the worst part. I cough, try to get my voice to work.

“I need to… I don't know. Thought I might give those bad boys a good scrub again. Never hurts to try, right?”

“Never hurts? Look at your hand before saying shit like that.”

I open my eyes.

The cloth is all stained with blood. So are the scissors.

Didn't even notice my nails breaking.

And now it’s even bloodier than it used to be. Tears well up in my eyes again. Great. Just great. Can this evening get any worse? Stay tuned to find out.

Dolmund sighs with all the weight of his chest.

“Put those away and go patch up your hand.”

“I c-can't.”

“Why?”

“How am I going to defend myself if you try to kill me?”

That's ridiculous. He wouldn't do that. Rationally, I know he wouldn't.

But I thought Leo wouldn't either.

“Ether, you have eight guns on you. Use them. Defending yourself with scissors? You still in kindergarten or something?”

Oh, he thinks he’s so funny. I’d punch him if my hand didn't hurt like a bitch.

“Yeah, yeah, you can glare at me all you want once you put those away.”

“But I need-”

“What you need is a drink, Ether. A drink, and to get the fuck out of your room and fix your hand, your only good hand, in case you forgot.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“I can deal with an hungover doctor. Not an injured one. Put. Those fuckers. Down.”

…

I do. Put the fuckers down, that is. After washing my blood off right away with some water. I shut my drawer tight. Out of sight, out of mind, or whatever.

“That’s better. You comin’, or do you need help walking too?”

He’d help me, if I said yes. But he knows treating me like I'm sick would be ten times worse. I can pity myself just fine, thank you very much.

And we know we both need way more than what we can give each other.

“I'm good.”

Just a little wobbly on them legs. Wooooo.

“Hope you got something strong enough.”

“You bet.”

The drink is indeed strong.

It's the only thing keeping my mind right and clear lately. I’m glad Faloi and Khaliun are dead so they don’t have to see this, but it’s their fault for getting killed in the first place.

Hey, at least I did Leo one better.

Can’t sell or eat a fucked-up liver.

[bambiiboop]

Unconditionally: Joel Miller x OC (Part 3/10)

Summary: Lucy loves Joel Miller unconditionally. A cross country trip to escort an immune, bad mouthed teenager to safety might just prove it.

CWs: canon typical violence / unsafe sex / age gap / language / spoilers (if anyone cares) / canon divergence / mentions of attempted sexual assault / themes of previous suicidal tendencies

Note: this work is intended for adult audiences only. It is not strictly canon compliant, and was originally posted to A03 when I first ventured into the fandom.

Chapter Index: 1 / 2 /

The day was mostly uneventful; whilst that was good for their safety, it wasn’t good for their minds. It left too much time to think, to feel guilt and a sense of responsibility for what had happened.

“You should try and talk to her.” Joel said quietly, eyes on Ellie, who was striding a good six feet ahead of the adults.

“Me?” Lucy raised an eyebrow, “She’s more likely to talk to you, you know.”

“Yeah, but you know how I am… I’m not… good at that shit.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly; he was remembering what he’d said to Ellie in Kansas, after she’d shot that youth trying to protect him.

“Okay… if it makes you feel better… I’ll try and talk to her.” Lucy agreed.

Surveying the area one last time, Lucy broke into a light jog to catch up with Ellie.

“You wanna slow down for us old folks?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Ellie didn’t even crack a smile. Lucy sighed. She knew what grief looked like, but she wasn’t sure how to address it with such a strange, prickly kid like her. It was difficult; unlike Joel, she had never been a parent before. She had no idea how to connect with children, not really. The extent of it had been delivering medicine to sick kids and their families in the QZ, trying to cheer them up. That wasn’t to say she was bad with kids, she just… didn’t have the natural disposition that Joel had, buried deep down.

“Why couldn’t I help him?” Ellie asked, a mile or so up the road. Lucy had been keeping pace with her, letting Joel watch their backs. They’d been walking in silence, until now. She was surprised that Ellie had spoken at all, but now she had, she would try her best to comfort her.

“What do you mean?” Lucy couldn’t hide her confusion. Surely Ellie knew that once someone was bitten, once infected, there was no going back. Her condition was… possibly the only one in the world. For everyone else, it meant being shit out of luck, losing your mind, and a slow, miserable death.

“If I’m immune. Why didn’t my blood fix Sam? Isn’t it supposed to be medicine?”

It was in that moment that Lucy understood just how young Ellie still was. Just how much she had seen and suffered at such a young age. She stopped dead in her tracks.

“I don’t know, Ellie. Maybe it doesn’t work like that…”

“But why not?” Ellie persisted, “why doesn’t it work like that? It’s not… it’s not fair.”

The way she spoke, sounded as though she felt as though it was childish to finish on that note, but Lucy understood.

“I know,” Lucy said, “it isn’t fair, and you shouldn’t have had to deal with that. None of you should. You’re all too fucking young. So it’s okay to be angry, and upset. But it’s not your fault.”

“What if it is? I couldn’t help him.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It just means we haven’t worked out what your immunity does. I doubt he’d hold it against you, Ellie. You tried. You tried and that’s what matters.” Lucy squeezed the younger girl on the shoulder; she wanted to hug the poor kid, but she was never good with physical contact.

“I guess so…” Ellie sighed, looked to the horizon. “Think we’re gonna stop somewhere tonight?”

“Yeah. We’re not walking through the night.” Lucy agreed; they were on the outskirts of a tiny town, a motel and a gas station about the only buildings standing.

Right on cue, Joel caught up with them; they’d slowed down a hell of a lot to talk before coming to a halt entirely.

“We’ll clear out that motel. Make camp overnight. We’ve walked enough today.”

——

There are bars on the window of the motel bedroom. Once again, one bedroom. The adults insisted Ellie take it, to give her some space and some privacy. God knows she needs it, give her time to process the loss of her friend.

Lucy dragged the blankets from the second bed in the room out to the main room, while Joel shoved a heavy cabinet in front of the door for extra security. Neither really thought anyone would be out this way, not in this tiny speck of a ghost town, but it would help them both sleep at night.

“Did you talk to her?” Joel asked, voice low, as they settled in for the night. They were secure enough that shoes could be taken off, thankfully.

“Yeah.” Lucy put her boots beside his, “she just needs some time.”

“Understandably.” Joel moved over so she could lay beside him; he was facing her, but not really seeing her.

Lucy sighed, sensing how shut off he was becoming; although he was reluctant to admit it, Joel had become fond of the two boys, and was taking their deaths as a personal failure.

“Hey.” She put her hand on his shoulder, squeezed gently, “are you alright?”

Joel frowned slightly, but didn’t pull away from her; he was trying to work out the words that he wanted. It was difficult, when he’d seen so much death, killed his fair share of people.

“It never gets easier, does it? Seeing kids die…” he said finally, still not looking at her, “I keep feeling like… I should have done more.”

Lucy shook her head, rubbing her hand along his arm. She hated seeing him blame himself, especially when she had firsthand witnessed him do everything in his power to protect the three young people in their charge.

“You did everything you could for those boys, Joel. Everything.”

What more could they have done? It’s impossible to keep everyone safe from the infected forever, especially in such a close combat situation with so many enemies on every side.

“I just hate not… keeping my word.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her; she could feel how tense he was, like a tightly wound coil that could explode at any moment.

Lucy understood; she knew how difficult it was for him to let anyone in. First her. Then Ellie. Then Henry and Sam. He had let the four of them in, only to lose two of them. At his core, Joel was a protective figure, a father who had never properly grieved the loss of his daughter. Losing two young men who could have become like sons to him… she understood how it could - and would - reopen old wounds.

“You kept your word,” she assured him softly, “we took care of them, right until the end.”

“I don’t want to lose anyone else,” he said finally, “not Ellie, and especially not you. I can’t take another loss.”

Lucy wasn’t sure he had ever been so blunt and open with her, not about something like this. Joel wasn’t big on talking about his feelings, she had long ago accepted that. Even though their relationship had significantly shifted since their night spent at Bill and Frank’s place, she never expected any grand declarations from him, never expected any big conversation about feelings. It caught her off guard.

“I can’t promise you won’t lose us,” she said finally, “that’s not the world we live in. But… I can say… that I’ll be fighting, constantly, to stay by your side. And I’ll help you protect her. That much I can promise, and I will.”

She felt some of the tension leave his body at her words, his arms tightly wrapped around her still, as though he was afraid she would turn to dust if he let go.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I promise.”

He sighed, feeling a heavy sort of exhaustion fall over him, feeling, not for the first time, very old.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darling.” He buried his face in her hair for a moment, inhaling the salt sweat floral smell of her, reminding himself that she was, indeed, still alive and with him.

“I have every intention of trying to keep it.” She assured him, rubbing her fingers up his back, settling them in his hair. He sighed, then tilted his head down to look at her.

“We’re alive, Joel,” she whispered, “I’m right here.”

Something snapped inside him, some sort of restraint, as he leaned down and claimed her mouth in a possessive, desperate kiss, rolling so she was pinned beneath him. All his rage, all his pain, he channeled it into the kiss. She let him, not at all surprised or unhappy. If he needed an outlet? She was more than happy to provide one.

The kiss was rough, hungry, like he was drowning and she was air, his hands firm on her waist, tongue demanding entrance to her mouth. Her lips parted for him, surrendering to the storm that was his rage.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She promised against his lips, her fingers finding the buttons of his flannel shirt.

“Nowhere.” He almost growled it, his hands sliding up her shirt, discarding it to the side, caressing bare skin, desperately seeking contact between them.

“I promise.” She pulled him into another kiss, pushing the fabric of his shirt from his shoulders, breaking their embrace only for a moment. It was risky, yes, but they were far too caught in the moment to care.

Unlike at Bill and Frank’s place, they had the room to themselves, could afford themselves some intimacy that wasn’t hasty, that wasn’t half clothed and silent.

She pulled his undershirt up, over his head, let him discard it in favour of running her hands up his chest, fingertips caressing every scar, every muscle. Honestly, for a man of his age, his body was still in its prime, and she knew it.

She kissed along his jaw, not remotely minding the scratch of his beard, down his throat, pausing when he made a low sound in his chest; the sound only encouraged her to do it again, to kiss the same place on his throat, her hands still caressing.

“I’m right here,” she breathed against his skin, feeling his hands at the button of her pants, her own going to his belt.

They had never been fully naked against one another before, she realised, as she kicked off her jeans and he pulled the top blanket over them, keeping them from any chill in the air. If she was a little younger, if he was anyone else, she might have felt shy. There was no awkwardness between them as he settled between her legs, pulling her into another kiss.

There was something warm and desperate in their kiss that hadn’t been there before; like he was letting her in past another wall he’d put up around himself. She wasn’t sure how long that would last, so she’d take it for now. Somewhere between their shirts and their pants being discarded, his rage had cooled significantly. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to take it out on her and make this uncomfortable or scare her.

It scared him a little, what he felt for her, but it was a good fear to have.

She could feel the firm heat of him pressing into her thigh; there was almost a smug satisfaction in knowing she had caused that, in knowing that he wanted her.

“What are you smiling about, hm?” There was a softness to his voice, a gentle amusement.

“Nothing, why did you stop?” She pouted at him.

“Wanted to know what was funny.”

“I’m just… glad you want this. Glad you want me.” She admitted.

“Nothing’s changed,” he pressed a kiss to her throat, “if anything… just reminded me how much I don’t wanna lose you.”

Lucy sighed, kissed his temple. “I don’t wanna lose you, either.”

Silence as he dragged her into another kiss, slow and drawn out, before he kissed her throat once more.

“Gonna take my time with you, baby girl, should’ve done that the first time.” His voice was low in her ear, a promise.

“We didn’t have time last time,” she said, “I won’t hold it against you.”

He smirked. “We have all night, now.”

She hummed agreement; he was right, of course. They did have all night, and she planned on making it worth his while. It sounded as though he had a similar idea.

Lucy wasn’t sure what to expect; last time, he had used his fingers on her, but she knew damn well she was ready for him already without him needing to. He knew that too, could feel her wetness between her thighs, feel it against his length whenever he teased her with it.

He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he planned on taking his time with her, but that didn’t negate how eager he was, how much he needed to touch her, to feel that deeply shared intimacy that they had begun to form between them.

“Gonna go real slow, alright, darling?” His Texas accent got thicker the lower he spoke, she realised, somewhere in the back of her mind; it was hardly at the forefront of her thoughts when he was lifting one of her legs to wrap around his waist, lining himself up and then sinking into her, slowly, inch by delicious, perfect, torturous inch.

She let her head fall back against the blanket, the makeshift pillow, lips parted in a soft sigh.

“Gonna make me beg for it, huh?” She asked, a smile playing about her lips.

The ghost of a grin crossed his face.

“Considered it, but you feel too damn good to tease like that.”

He slid the remaining length of himself home as he spoke - home. That was how it felt, connecting their bodies together this way, feeling how soft and wet and tight she was, welcoming him back to her as though they’d been made for one another.

The sound she made when he filled her completely was closer to a whimper; every inch of him felt amazing, filling her so completely. He gave a slow, deliberately languid roll of his hips, drawing a definitive, quiet whimper from her.

“Oh? You like that?” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

Fuck, he’d wanted to take his time like this the last time. Hell, he’d wanted to take her to bed properly for months now, but there had never been the time, never been the privacy. Sure, the night they’d recently had had been great, but having a room to themselves? Where he could take his time drawing every sweet sound out of her? He was absolutely going to enjoy every moment of it.

“C’mon, baby girl, use your words.” The sounds he was getting from her were amazing, just from such shallow, lazy movements, but he wanted to hear her, really hear her.

“Feels good…”

“Just good? Guess I’ll take that, for now.” He hummed, amused; fair enough, he could work for it. He wasn’t particularly given over to patience, naturally, but it was a skill set he had learned over time as a smuggler, and hell, this was a damn good time to put it to use.

Slow and steady. That was the best way to get her all worked up, he figured, pressing deep with each roll of his hips then slowly, slowly, almost pulling fully out of her before sinking back in deep again. Each thrust drew a beautiful little moan or whimper from her parted lips, one of her hands balled in the blanket, the other wandering up his back, finding his hair.

She loved to touch his hair, running her fingers through it, pulling gently on it whenever he hit that sweet spot inside her. He’d been almost self conscious about the amount of silver streaking dark locks, but the way she touched him made him forget any notion of being concerned about his ageing looks that he might have had.

Another moan from her lips as she pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“You alright there?” A soft chuckle from his chest that faded into a low groan as she tightened around him. “Fuck, darling, you feel so good.”

She hummed, wrapped her legs nice and tight around his waist, pulling him in deep and keeping him there.

“You have no idea,” her voice was soft, a loving whisper into his ear. “You have no idea how good you feel.”

“Yeah? The way you’re reacting? I’m starting to get a damn decent idea of how good it feels.” He started to move again, faster this time, coaxing more delicious sounds from her parted lips. The hand that had been wrapped in the blanket moved to his back, to rest there.

She was desperately trying to keep quiet, aware of their companion in the next room, but it was difficult, especially when he picked up the pace, especially when she could hear every groan and growl he let pass from his lips, low and needy in her ear.

Her breathing was starting to grow more rapid, her nails leaving marks in the scarred, solid muscle of his back.

He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face, the rush of confidence and quite frankly smugness that he was getting such a reaction from her; he had twenty years on her, after all, and here she was, about to fall apart in his arms, not for the first time either.

“That’s it, baby. C’mon now…” he urged, soft and sweet and southern in his tone, “look at you. Takin’ it so well…”

He punctuated each of the last four words with a slow, deep, agonisingly lovely thrust, hitting her sweet spot over and over until she cried out, burying her face in his shoulder to try and muffle the sounds she made as he felt her tighten around him, again and again, until he thought perhaps the climax of the pleasure he was giving her might not end.

“Joel…” His name was the only word he could make out amongst her cries and moans.

“There we go, darlin’, ride it out, breathe through it…”

Honestly, Joel couldn’t help but talk her through it; he had absolutely no idea how goddamn attractive that was, either. No clue. It was just second nature to him.

“Wanna make you feel good…” her voice was still shaky from her recent climax, eyes half lidded and blinking up at him.

“Oh, baby, you are, you have no idea. You feel so fuckin’ amazing…” he leaned down and stole another kiss; he could feel himself getting closer and closer to his own release, but kept going. He would keep going, right until the last minute.

He was getting rougher now, chasing his own release, lost in his own mindset. Every nerve was on fire; wherever she kissed him, it burned, in the best way possible. It wasn’t possible, of course, but he was certain he would feel every spot on his neck, his chest, his lips, where she had kissed him for days to come.

God, it was tempting to just stay inside her; to fill her up and see her reaction to being thoroughly, truly claimed as his. But it was far, far too risky. She was younger than him. Young enough that it would be an enormous risk to take. Young enough that a single error could mean bringing a life into this world of pain.

He wouldn’t risk that. Wouldn’t risk her life like that. It was only that resolve that reminded him to pull out of her at the last moment, groaning softly at the sudden loss of warmth and tightness; she whimpered at the loss of their connection, stroked his hair as he spilled onto her stomach.

“Fuck…” he was half resting on top of her, trying to catch his breath. “That… would have been easier fifteen years ago.”

She laughed as he rolled them, pulled her into his arms, let her tuck her head onto his chest, her fingers tracing little patterns there. They could deal with their mess later.

“You wouldn’t have liked me fifteen years ago.” She said, smiling.

Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen from his kisses, but god, she was beautiful.

“You wouldn’t have liked me either.” He admitted, less amused. The things he had done, in the early days… the things he had done recently… it was a dark train of thought.

“Hey.” She tapped his chest gently. “Don’t go away into your head. It doesn’t matter who we were, right? Only who we are now.”

There was so much more she wanted to say; here, warm and safe and wrapped in his arms, her body still aching from how desperately he had made love to her…

She wanted so, so badly, to tell him how she felt. But she was afraid of rejection. Afraid of putting him on the spot and ruining everything they had, everything they were building.

“I like who you are now.” His voice broke the silence, quieter than usual, with a little hesitation behind it. Not because he wasn’t certain of what he had said, but because he wasn’t used to openly admitting such things.

“A nuisance who used to make you protect me and then followed your ass out of the QZ?” Lucy asked, because she didn’t dare take any deeper meaning from it without him explicitly treading that ground.

Joel laughed.

“Yeah, definitely. No, smartass. I mean the woman who approached me in the QZ because you wanted to help people. Who’s following me across the damn country, and not for some selfish ass reason.”

Lucy shook her head.

“You’re wrong there. It is for a selfish reason.”

“How so?”

She sighed. “I didn’t want you to go… I was… worried I would never see you again.”

“So you thought you’d risk your life… to stay with me?”

“… Yes?” She spoke as though it were the simplest thing in the damn world. That conviction… what the hell had he ever done to deserve such adoration?

He was silent for a moment.

“Lucy…”

“Yeah?”

He didn’t know where to begin; it took him a moment to find the words. The last thing he wanted was to fuck this up.

“You know… that I’m old, right?”

Ah, fuck, that hadn’t come out right at all, and he knew it.

“Not that much older.” She wasn’t even protesting too much, merely stating a fact.

“Twenty fucking years. You could have found someone younger in the QZ. Someone decent. Had a life. Had kids.”

The idea of her with someone else, though? It made him heated. When he’d come across that asshole trying to put his hands on her… he had seen red.

She shook her head, propped herself up to look down at him, so he could see her face as she spoke.

“I don’t care. There could be a dozen decent men in the QZ, lining up wanting me. I don’t fucking care, Joel. I chose you. I knew what I was doing when I left. I didn’t even care if you never noticed me. I still chose you.”

He stared at her for a minute.

“You were willing to risk everything, to lose everything… even if we had just remained… what we were?”

She shrugged, chewed her lip for a moment.

“I may not be the smartest person in the world. I never claimed to be. But what I do know is how I feel about you, and that I wanted to leave so I could stay with you, and protect you if I could, and even if you never feel the same, even if this is as far as we go… I won’t regret a single choice. Not for a second.”

Her confession surprised him; he had suspected, of course, that she had some deeper feeling for him than just sexual attraction. It was hard to call her out on it when he had the same… issue. But he had never given it much thought. He was older than her, had never thought she would ever consider him in a romantic light.

“You think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Was all he eventually said.

She shrugged. “I’m not egotistical, Joel. And I know you have… a lot going on. I never expected…”

“No,” he said quietly, “of course you wouldn’t. Because that’s you, isn’t it? You don’t expect anyone to care about you. You give and give and give, until you have nothing left, and you never ask for anything…”

Her cheeks heated.

“I don’t…”

“You do, and it’s not a bad quality. It’s a quality that gets people trying to take advantage of you, which means I have a list about a mile long of people I’d cheerfully beat to death, but it’s also a quality I like in you. Having a soul in this world is rare, and even though it means I worry constantly about whether some bastard is gonna hurt you… I’d never ask you to change.”

Joel had never, ever, been good at talking about his feelings. It had led to the breakdown of his relationship with Sarah’s mother. Had been the barrier that prevented him from ever considering anything like a relationship with Tess, no matter how much she had wanted it. But he owed her the truth. Those two women were dead, but Lucy was here, and alive, and looking at him like she so often did, her expression blank but her eyes soft and loving.

“Joel…” She was leaning in again, the unspoken words on her lips, in her gaze.

“I know, baby. I know.”

“Let me say it…” she breathed; they were so close now, so close together.

He had been afraid; perhaps that was why he had simply said he knew. But she was so close, so warm against him, and in his heart he knew the answer to her unspoken words…

“Say it, darling…”

“I love you, Joel…” her lips were inches from his, trepidation in her gaze as she breathed the words they both already knew.

A heartbeat passed, and he quelled his fears.

“I love you, baby girl. I love you, too.”

And he leaned in and closed the distance between them, finally, finally, letting her in.

[beantothemax]

ANGST DOUBLETEAM LETS GO (more WIP stuff)

“A thief is a thief is a thief, you oughta know that by now!” Miguel cackled. “You seem real fond of your little cutpurse friend there. Do you have any idea what he’s done?”

“Shut up!” Thwack - the clearing echoed as Alfyn’s axe missed its mark and hit the reinforced core of a spear.

“I wonder how many people he’s killed? How many children he’s held for ransom? More than a few, I’ll bet.”

“I said shut up!” Thunk - the glade rang as Alfyn’s fist collided with the body of a second spear, too incensed to dedicate himself to freeing his axe. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Therion shouted. “He’s trying to rile you up.” He knew these tactics. Sling insults to throw people off their guard, get them enraged so they fight sloppier. Risky, but highly effective if what you need is a few openings. A favorite of someone else he used to know, a different thief that he had met in Saintsbridge. In another time, another life, one that had ended tragically six years prior.

“Yeah, medicine man,” Miguel sneered. Something in Therion twinged, hearing the nickname he had given Alfyn, a condescending moniker turned fond epithet, twisted back into the snarling insult it started as. “You ought to listen to your boyfriend. He knows every trick in the book. How to use, how to abuse, how to take.”

“Hah, ‘boyfriend’, reeeal original.” Therion scoffed, slowly circling around to flank, steeling himself against the all-too familiar jabs that made him think of the iron of fresh wounds in his mouth and the beating sun of the cliftlands. “Why don’t you call me a ‘worthless thief’ again while you’re at it?”

“Ooh, how cold, little tea leaf!” The words dripping out of the mercenary’s mouth made Therion stiffen on instinct. Tea leaf. Only one other person ever called him that. His reaction was slight, but visible enough that Miguel’s sneer grew by a few molars. He had him right where he wanted him. “Ah, there it is. You see, medicine man?” He turned back to Alfyn. “A thief is a thief is a thief. We only care about one thing, and it’s ourselves.”

“You say that like you know him.” It was unusual to hear Alfyn growl. Even more unusual to hear him speak with genuine rage, simmering barely beneath the surface.

“Don’t need to.” Miguel tilted his head mockingly. “You know one, you know ‘em all. It’s a dirty business, this. And everyone’s got their little sob story. I bet you fell hook, line, and sinker for his, didn’t you?” Therion saw Alfyn’s grip tighten around the handle of his axe. His stomach sank. “Hey, you bought my story. I bet someone could tell you just about anything and you’d believe ‘em. He’s playin’ a long con on ya, mate. Hope you didn’t get your hopes up too much.” Miguel cackled again as Alfyn started to shake – Therion was at an angle where he couldn’t see his friend’s expression, but he could only imagine what had overtaken him. Rage, at this worthless idiot who could not speak in any language except cruelty. Horror, realization that he was right, that a thief was a thief was a thief, that he had invested far too much time and energy and care into someone who didn’t deserve an ounce of it.

Laughter. Incredulity, at the assumption that he ever cared about Therion in the first place. As if he was worth addressing with anything less than disdain.

“Ignore him!” Therion’s warning came out louder than he meant, his voice cracking with hurt. “Alfyn, don’t listen to him!” He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. Why was this hurting him so bad? Why did the idea of the stupid, stupid medicine man actually heeding this dipshit’s words make him want to scream, make him want to lose control and claw Miguel’s stupid eyes out of his shitty, good-for-nothing skull? “He’s a fucking liar, you know that!”

OHHHH MY GOD BLAZE. BLAZE…

hgggggfgghhhhhh miguel riling up alfyn by trying to make him doubt theri….. AUGH

THIS HURTS. THIS ONE HURT. MIGUEL DESERVES EVERY SINGLE OUNCE OF PAIN THAT THERION AND ALFYN ARE GIVING HIM

need these 2 to have a very long talk where alfyn is very clear about how much he loves theri.

[gaykarstaagforever]

Fans of my Tumblr will remember when I did this post about Stawberry Hill House, a quaint gothic folly of an 18th century mansion, built by some Georgian turbo-nerd.

I didn't in that post do any discussion about what "gothic" actually means, because it is complicated and confusing and is applied to different things differently, depending on who is doing it. Suffice it to say now, it was an artistic trend of the second half of the 18th century, based on the First Industrial Revolution and the so-called The Age of Reason, where people counterintuitively got real into liking ancient ruins and dark medieval stuff and spooky things.

Before then, things were good or bad because the church or king said so; after we figured out the steam engine and medicine, we realized that demons weren't in fact responsible for 80% of everything, so being scared of them in principle was kind of a waste. Being scared of or liking ANYTHING in principle was goofy. Instead of everything being objectively a way, things are now subjectively a way, and how we feel and react to them gives them their REAL value.

Yeah it just goes on like this. Entire books of this shit. Secularism and capitalism (as a philosophy) come out of this. It ties in to why America's Founding Fathers suddenly felt like they could say "fuck the king for being jerk," while Thomas Jefferson sat there crossing out all the stuff about miracles in the Bible and giggling.

But it ALSO meant that if you wanted to be into ghosts or the histories of banned religions, or do drugs and think your drug-dreams mattered, go for it, landed gentry! Weird things are fun and exciting, instead of risking your immortal soul! What if there are beasts? What if WE are the beasts?!

Yes, this is where the idea of modern horror has its earliest pop-cultural roots. In 1764, Horace Walpole - the guy who built Strawberry Hill - wrote The Castle of Otranto, which he styled "a Gothic Novel." It was partially based on a scary dream he had while at Strawberry Hill, involving random giant pieces of medieval armor being in his bedroom. ...Which is one of those things that doesn't sound scary, but you damn well know it totally would be if you had a nightmare about it while sleeping in your whimsical fairy house.

The Castle of Otranto was an immediate hit. With the first edition, Walpole published it under a pseudonym and claimed it was an English translation of a Renaissance Italian work. In subsequent editions he dropped the pretense and admitted he just wrote it, which didn't hurt sales but pissed off all the literary critics who had been tricked. ...Which is funny, so good on him. But they immediately changed their reviews of it to "awesome" to "this totally sucks and is stupid."

Which either means they were unprofessionally pissy, or they had been generous initially, and now knowing it wasn't a translation, were eager to admit that, other than the fun crazy stuff, it isn't very good.

Yes, even for 1764. Walpole is intentionally going for an arch, dated, Shakespearean style, to fit his made up date (the 16th century) for the original Italian. And, man - it sounds like what happens when someone does that.

Shakespeare was writing in iambic pentameter. It was performance poetry, so it sounded like that to fit the rhythm and be compelling on stage. Minus those two demands, everyone who apes the style just uses big weird words for everything, and everyone talks too much about nothing in an attempt to have speeches or be funny, and the goddamn thees and thous...!

The Castle of Otranto gets worse as it goes along. I'm a third of the way through this 4 hour audiobook version, and every single scene is someone important and the help taking 10 minutes to discuss a thing we all just saw happen. It's like if the guy writing the King James Bible was getting paid by the word.

Modern critics and book fans almost universally agree it is "virtually unreadable." I wouldn't go that far. It is generally coherent and does characters well. But there is no hint of any kind of pacing, and the plot is one inexplicable thing happening to obviously disturbed people after another, with extended breaks for them to Hamlet Whine about it.

The story literally starts with a giant Renaissance armor helmet falling from the sky and exploding a man on his wedding day. Which sounds fun and fascinating. But neither the author or the story are seemingly interested in that as anything other than an ominous trope that triggers a bad, confusing soap opera.

At least so far. There are six chapters and I'm only into the second one, and it is a rough listen. More weird things happen, but so far it could just be one family and their comedy servants going mad, and all of the dozen characters are starting to run together, and people seem to keep teleporting around, and about half of the action takes place between scenes, and someone has to explain what happened to someone else.

I guess as a gothic novel plot, "spooky weird soap opera about crazy people in a gross house" is par for the course. But this first attempt at that has a few flaws.

Check it out (pretty sure a real person is reading this, due to audio issues and funny pronounciation / accent choices. It's fine). Free pdfs are easily available too, though I hear the formatting is especially weird and makes it harder to read. I haven't looked.

Trigger warnings: gore, attempted SA, the kind of confusing misogyny only the 18th century could produce.

And that's just the first hour!

Also ESOTERICA did a video about the book and the Gothic aesthetic in general a month ago, which is what inspired me to try the book. He goes into detail about the philosophical side of gothicism, if you are interested in trying to keep up with that.

[pinkrangerv]

nobody called u a lolcow lmao u just throwing words in her mouth... get over urself like your whole argument is that having sex oustide is illegal because its somehow protecting us foolish citizens from getting instant gonnorhea from our butt cheeks brushing a mossy picnic table in the forest. like i dont even fuck outside ur response was just so condescending and obnoxious i had 2 say something. u realize the germ theory of medicine is way more recent than anti-sodomy laws yeah? i wonder why that is, i wonder if theres some societal predjudice that couldve informed that phenomenon hmm

like for real whos more likely to get arrested for fucking in their private campsite outside the tent, cis or trans people? queer or straight ppl? like why do u need 2 double down so hard take u goddamn lithium or smth

Oh hi! I see you're on anon now, transamus!

So if you look real close at my post, you'll notice I started with "The sex registry is bullshit" and ended with "since you get a say in making laws, what do you think should exist instead?".

I got ten experts in the English language to cut open entrails and divine the esoteric meaning of that. It means I don't actually support criminalizing sex outside. Weird, I know. No one could've ever figured this out.

Seriously, though, your original post actually had a lot of good thought in it. I'm not sure I agree on all of it, but you were citing some serious, heavy-duty social and legal theory there, alongside historic notes and logical testing of real-world situations.

What the hell happened? I posted something--which was meant to continue the discussion--and you didn't even double-check what you read, you just threw a tantrum. You claimed laws are only to punish, and the rest of your posts until now were just screaming "SHAME! SHAME!" at me (and let's note: this is paraphrasing, which...why are you confused by normal human figures of speech?). Shame for what? I should feel bad because you're mad at me?

You went from competence to toddler in ten seconds. You aren't even using basic punctuation or spelling right now. Want to clue me in on what's going on?

[punkscowardschampions]

Tancy pt.2

Nancy: I’d say she’s the only one that did it but I can’t put it all on her this time

Teddy: Original ideas aren’t something she has, copycat to her core

Nancy: I still feel bad for J, he didn’t think that included being trapped with a kid

Teddy: He didn’t think

Nancy: Did you ever get to the bottom of why she wanted a baby

Nancy: because it makes no sense to me, still

Teddy: She didn’t, she wanted to trap a sucker for a guaranteed 18 year meal ticket, it’s not as if she was going to uni, or going anywhere, but he was

Nancy: For me to say someone needs therapy

Nancy: non-existent self-esteem right there, Jesus

Teddy: & her family’s on the poorer side of the postcode, marrying up before the money ran out

Nancy: It’s not worth it

Nancy: I’d rather live in disgrace, truly

Teddy: She already has, daily, for 21 years

Nancy: We had that much in common, once upon a time

Nancy: how she’s chosen to go forward though… no thanks

Teddy: No, we have our ‘disgraces’ in common, hers are entirely different

Nancy: You’re still just a baby

Teddy: The baby of my family, not a baby

Nancy: It’s a compliment

Teddy: It isn’t & you’ll upset me

Nancy: I don’t want to upset you, I said that and meant it

Teddy: You also said I’m a man

Teddy: which is it?

Nancy: It can be both, for a start

Nancy: and I can’t remember saying that also

Teddy: Fine, THE man, if you insist upon the distinction, as I would your baby vs a 

Nancy: I’m only jealous, I’d kill to be your age again

Nancy: don’t take it for granted

Teddy: You’re aging like [giving a fine wine but being specific], don’t be jealous

Nancy: I like when people are jealous of me, don’t you?

Teddy: Don’t you like being my exception?

Teddy: how much I care that your feelings aren’t hurt

Nancy: I’m a big girl, I can take of myself

Teddy: I can take better care of you

Nancy: Oh, really

Nancy: but why would you want to do that?

Teddy: Why wouldn’t I?

Nancy: You don’t owe me

Nancy: I’m not [his gf but getting the name slightly wrong because we mean a girl like her/her age etc], we can just have fun

Teddy: It would be fun, I’m not a bore

Nancy: We’re just obsessing over it because we got interrupted 

Teddy: You’ve fascinated me since [another moment he’s dropping like before, which is obvs giving AGES ago]

Teddy: but noted, you don’t agree

Nancy: Not what I said

Nancy: I’m letting you know we’re good

Teddy: Fantastic

Nancy: Don’t do this again

Teddy: We don’t have to talk, I can just see you at [the time she said not the earlier one he did]

Nancy: Wow, okay

Teddy: See, your own medicine tastes horrible, doesn’t it?

Nancy: You’re so petty

Teddy: That’s how you sound when YOU do this

Nancy: YOU 

Nancy: it was you who stopped me coming to see you last time and you’re going to do it again

Teddy: Because you can’t stop yourself from ruining it

Nancy: That’s horrid

Teddy: You are to me, you don’t take me at all seriously

Nancy: I don’t take anything seriously, you can ask my parents

Teddy: Yes you do

Nancy: You know too much about me, you’ve paid too close attention

Teddy: Someone has to, your family, your boyfriends, they neglect you

Nancy: You want me to need you

Teddy: What’s wrong with that?

Nancy: when you take it away

Teddy: I’m not going to

Nancy: There’s literally some girl out there right now buying a dress and a veil

Nancy: I’m not that dumb

Teddy: You’re not, you know she’s no more than a plaything

Nancy: Wow, you almost got me to ask you what are we

Nancy: nicely played

Teddy: 🏸

Teddy: it’s your serve, it’s according to you that’s what we are

Nancy: I’m not buying you more things to never actually give them to you

Nancy: you’ll be seeing me, like it or not

Teddy: I’d like it if you stopped acting as though you can fuck me out of your system

Nancy: I’ve never needed to wait

Nancy: I mean, the obligatory three dates if that’s the image I’m going for but still

Teddy: I’ve never been on 3 dates, how do you think I feel?

Nancy: You should

Nancy: find a girl or boy you are interested enough in

Teddy: I have

Nancy: Is it [your new roommate]? 

Teddy: Ha ha

Nancy: You picked him for a reason, right

Teddy: The reason being, he won’t bat an eye at paying [her full rent]

Nancy: I haven’t forgotten you did that for me

Teddy: Try & remember each of my uncasual & very romantic gestures

Nancy: I’m sorry, Teddy

Nancy: I don’t know how to be good enough for you, but I’m acting insane, I know that

Teddy: If you weren’t good enough I wouldn’t be interested

Nancy: that’s what I’m afraid of

Nancy: your attention feels so nice

Teddy: I didn’t mean to scare you, I’ll dial it back

Nancy: Please don’t, I want it

Nancy: I’ll do better

Teddy: It’s okay, EVERYONE is ALWAYS telling me to, it can’t be your fault in that case

Nancy: Shut up, you’re not too much, and I’m not everyone

Teddy: You keep treating me like a baby on the same day my parents have decided they’re going to stop

Nancy: What are they stopping?

Teddy: 👑

Teddy: it may as well be my 36th birthday or some such nonsense

Nancy: Darling, that’s so sad

Nancy: why would they not take the opportunity to lavish upon you, I thought you and your mum were close

Teddy: I thought so too but she’s taken his side

Nancy: I knew something was up, I should’ve got to the bottom of it quicker

Nancy: we’ll think of a way to change their mind for you

Teddy: It doesn’t matter, if that’s where her loyalties lie I don’t need to worry about staying so to her

Nancy: You can admit it hurts

Nancy: but it’s her mistake to betray you for what your dad wants, considering how he treats her

Teddy: Expressing my feelings wouldn’t be very adult son of me

Nancy: You can talk to me

Nancy: believe it or not, I’m a good listener when I’m not in my own head

Nancy: I’ll take care of you

Teddy: I’m changing the party venue last minute too, from [wherever it was] to their house, they’ll have to listen then

Nancy: They should spend your birthday with you

Teddy: That’s what my nanny WOULD be for, if I hadn’t supposedly outgrown her

Nancy: You can’t be left all alone

Teddy: [an obscene amount of people to fit in what is probably a townhouse because he had a different venue before for that exact as well as a million other reasons] are invited, fear not

Nancy: It’s not the same

Nancy: but you’ve got me

Teddy: Have I?

Nancy: [the amended time he last gave], right?

Teddy: [an earlier one yet again to see if she will]

Nancy: Okay

Nancy: wearing what you asked me to, early

Teddy: With [the drug he asked her to bring]

Nancy: I’m meeting [the drug dealer] soon in [somewhere near these shops we been in]

Teddy: [send her some money to cover it even though you’ve already given her god knows how much on this day]

Nancy: You never let me treat you 🌹

Teddy: Excellent point, you should treat yourself to some flowers

Teddy: [and send her some more money for this]

Nancy: Teddy!

Teddy: My moping is tedious & you’ve had to put up with it

Nancy: You’ll undoubtedly return the favour on the come-down 

Nancy: but I’ll let you take it out on me with 🌹 thorns, as a treat

Teddy: YOUR mind

Nancy: I started missing you again, could feel you drifting from me

Teddy: This birthday feels cursed

Nancy: I’m going to fix it

Nancy: you have to have the best time, it’s now my mission

Teddy: We can’t let Ava win, hers being a perfect fairytale, no doubt

Nancy: Tell me what you want and I’ll make it come true, fuck a fairytale

Teddy: Us to be the last ones standing in a house which isn’t

Nancy: Consider it done

Nancy: you’ll be unignorable

Teddy: You are

Nancy: I’m obsessed with you too

Teddy: I’ll come & live with you

Nancy: if they aren’t going to look after you

Teddy: & I’ll pick you up from [wherever she’s meeting these dealers she said because needs to see her rn immediately]

Nancy: you can put your head in my lap the whole way there

Teddy: 🥺🐶

Nancy: yeah, I’ll stroke your hair just how you like

Teddy: He expects me in the office at [what is a rude and early AM for the day after your bday truly, not just by their lazy standards cos this shit dad is trying to make a point here], I’m SO tired of him, Nance

Nancy: I know, he’s absurd

Nancy: if he forces you to go when you’re not well, you’re only going to end up disgracing him anyway

Teddy: What’s his damage? I didn’t even tell anyone about [the stuff he saw as a child] besides G & you, YEARS later

Nancy: He’s a sociopath, baby

Nancy: what did your sister say/do?

Teddy: Excused him, as usual

Teddy: at this point, suck his dick or get over it, why am I the collateral?

Nancy: She should care how it made you feel, even if all it made her feel was excited 

Nancy: she had a duty to protect you

Teddy: All she cares about is calling me slurs, as if we’re living in the year her fiance was born 🦖🦕

Nancy: Very mature

Nancy: I’ll let her overhear me calling you anything but if you like

Nancy: she’s not going to know who I am

Teddy: She lives at the office & apparently so I do now, it’s easily achieved 

Nancy: Your old secretary girlfriend will be jealous but

Teddy: We’ll send her on a coffee run

Nancy: as long as your sister overhears, anyone else is a bonus/irrelevant

Teddy: Except J but he probably still has the brat plague or another like it

Nancy: or my sister bent over his desk 🙄

Teddy: My father would give him a promotion for that sort of thing, definitely

Nancy: Gia wouldn’t like that at all

Teddy: She won’t put her foot down about his affairs with girls her age, those are the consequences

Nancy: How else will she live vicariously, I suppose

Teddy: It’s all fun & games until the private abortions & pay offs to keep the poor things silenced outnumber my birthdays

Nancy: All it takes is one crazy bitch like Chlo to refuse… he’ll get his, one day

Teddy: I can’t wait for him to ask G to charge his child maintenance to expenses, personally

Nancy: If he had a girl her head would explode

Teddy: I haven’t met the right girl yet, but hopefully, one day

Nancy: You’ve changed your mind

Teddy: The right girl to set him up with, I mean

Nancy: Oh

Nancy: duh, that makes more sense

Teddy: None of [his gf]’s friends are suitable, she’s truly useless to me across the board

Nancy: She’s a little too… vanilla, maybe, to have those kind of friends

Nancy: I don’t think I can offer to have your brother or sister though, it’s a conflict of interests at this point

Teddy: You wouldn’t have to fuck II, we could do it scientifically

Nancy: Bold to assume it’s the fucking I’d have an issue with

Nancy: also I’d love to know how we’re stealing his jizz for this plan

Teddy: Oh no, my mistake, you’d LOVE to fuck him, of course

Nancy: Ha, ha

Nancy: I love fucking you and being pregnant with your sibling would probably put a dampener on that

Teddy: You’re not Chlo, your body isn’t automatically going to the dogs, you’d carry a child better, I’m sure

Nancy: I’m sure you’re throbbing at the stepmother fantasies

Teddy: As I’ve been abandoned by my own mother, yeah

Nancy: I’ll do a better job, you can be my only baby and focus, promise

Teddy: Replace her for me

Nancy: You’re going to live with me and we’ll share a bed and if you get nightmares I’ll hold you until they pass, you’re my boy

Teddy: I’m a good boy & you’ll be the best mother

Nancy: I’m so proud of you, you take care of me too like a big, strong boy

Teddy: I am

Nancy: that’s why I don’t need anyone else, just me and you

Teddy: You know I’d take actual punches that actually hurt for you

Nancy: and I’d get you ice if you did

Nancy: instead of making it so much worse

Teddy: You made it so much better, you have a genuine gift for doing that, which you keep on giving me

Nancy: The things that would cheer me up are what work on you too

Nancy: we’re both sick

Teddy: You don’t need to grow his parasite inside of you, you’ve got me

Nancy: I need you inside me

Nancy: I’m jealous your mother got you inside her for 9 months

Teddy: You can keep me longer

Nancy: I’ve taken you, that’s what happens to parents who don’t deserve their children

Teddy: She’ll never get me back, it’s too late

Nancy: You already crave my approval, my body and how right it feels when I call you daddy and let you cum inside of your mummy’s pussy

Teddy: I’m yours

Nancy: All the man I need at 16

Teddy: At 15, but I won’t tell about you taking what you needed before you were allowed to

Nancy: I never said I was good, just you, for keeping my secret, protecting me from trouble

Teddy: If I didn’t say it at the time, I will now, you were REALLY good

Nancy: We were meant to be being quiet, I’ll let you off

Teddy: I’ll let you be loud tonight

Nancy: No pillow?

Teddy: Unless you miss it

Nancy: Maybe, a little bit

Teddy: I’m not lacking in pillows nor testosterone, I’ll fuck you every way you want

Nancy: 🥰

Nancy: I’m going to be lacking in [some kind of boujee food/drink you were going to bring to this shindig], I got VERY distracted for some reason and may never be able to show my face again at [the shop]

Teddy: You’ll have to become a [even more expensive shop that’s giving so exclusive and so rich that she probably hasn’t shopped there because not as rich as him] girl

Nancy: I will have all of my rent money now too, thanks to you

Teddy: & my referral, I’ll vouch for you that you do have money, since my name’s worth it’s weight in gold in the city

Nancy: 😏

Teddy: Well, my mother’s is, which should be mine, & as you’re my new mummy

Nancy: What is your mother’s family name?

Teddy: [drop that because it’s serious]

Nancy: It would suit you better

Nancy: does it suit me?

Teddy: It does, you’ll need to stay blonde though

Nancy: I’d hate to ruin it for you

Teddy: You couldn’t, I didn’t mean that, I was just sad

Nancy: I didn’t know how sad, or I would’ve got to the point and cut out the rest 

Teddy: I was trying to put on a brave face, bear it

Nancy: I understand

Nancy: you can be honest with me, I know how much family matters can hurt, I’d never judge you

Teddy: I want you to be proud of me, but I ruined it

Nancy: Shh, no you didn’t

Teddy: Even my absent other mother thinks I’m gay, no one thinks I’m strong

Nancy: She just doesn’t want another DiL, Chlo has shit the bed on that score

Nancy: all parents think they need to lay down the law at your age, avoid another rehab stint, that isn’t your fault either

Teddy: She’d want you, you’d be a delightful asset to my family

Nancy: You think so?

Teddy: I know it

Nancy: I could be a total bitch and say it wouldn’t be hard but it’s too sweet a sentiment 

Nancy: and my family see me as a total loss so fuck it, anyone is better

Teddy: You’d be correct about where the bar is, but it isn’t about what makes Chlo defective, it’s about what makes you ideal

Nancy: You’re ideal

Nancy: and you told me being a real man is dressing however you want and fucking whoever, so don’t get caught up in what your family thinks, they’re wrong anyway

Teddy: Everything I touch turns to the same gold, despite being robbed of my birthright name by my father’s pointless ego but I’ve barely touched you, I can’t take the credit

Nancy: You can change it for your 18th, that’d send the message his ego needs to hear

Teddy: You can treat me

Nancy: 😁

Teddy: What did you do for your 16th? I don’t remember

Nancy: Me either

Nancy: [but tell him of the exploits you do remember from all the people he also knows like James and Chlo etc, just giving all that tea]

Teddy: [have a similar reminisce about her 18th, because she brought yours up, which you obvs remember more of cos it’s an even bigger bday, even if you weren’t actually there cos that pesky age gap lol and it’s all second hand goss]

Nancy: [me like you’d probably let him be there miss flopatop lmao but regardless, fill him in on anything else, just swapping scandals] 

Teddy: [ngl I had the same thought and James at that age would be in no fit state to stop him from attending, soz not soz, so we can deffo say he was, but yeah regardless you can swap tales etc, drag everyone for what they are doing now to make her feel better about being old and a flop lol, we know the vibes]

Teddy: & above all, I lost my virginity there, but you must know the story well enough to re-tell me in detail, it’s forever doing the rounds

Nancy: I’m not sure I do

Nancy: but you’re SO welcome, naturally

Teddy: I felt it, you’re a marvellous host 

Nancy: Who was it with? 

Teddy: You’ve honestly & sincerely never heard what happened?

Teddy: [and name drop this older girl whoever she may be because p much everyone he hooks up with always is older to varying degrees, the gf he has now is probably only a year or 2, but that’s his type lol]

Nancy: It was my 18th, I had my own memories to make

Teddy: Afterwards, it should’ve reached you

Nancy: You wanted it to

Teddy: Where did [virginity gal] go? I should invite her

Nancy: Prison, by the sounds of things

Teddy: Keeping a bunk warm for you, darling

Teddy: top or bottom?

Nancy: Back on your homo bullshit I see 

Nancy: prison fantasy is a DEAD giveaway

Nancy: [but send him all the info you found on this girl with a socials stalk]

Teddy: Which is, [the business lessons she took which he is gonna] teach me embezzlement & daddy & G get sent there because I couldn’t possibly be to blame, I’m just a child

Teddy: [+ drag this girl v specifically based on whatever it is she found because they love to, any excuse]

Nancy: Your sister would do GREAT in prison, she can ditch the old man, x2, start a whole new lesbian life

Nancy: 😏 are you going to invite her then or not?

Teddy: I know, she’d adore it

Teddy: What about [something she discovered while stalking] makes you think she’s earned her place at THE one to be?

Nancy: You can reminisce, as I can’t provide that for you

Teddy: Better memories you can, however, in spades

Nancy: It’s your party

Nancy: do I have plus-ones?

Teddy: If you wish, the more the merrier

Teddy: but I’d begrudge sharing you, at my party

Nancy: You can have my undivided attention, however many other people happen to be around

Teddy: & you run of the house, as though it were yours

Nancy: I’d have parties this big every night, if it were

Teddy: If it were, you could do whatever you like

Nancy: I already do, almost always

Teddy: It should be always, without exception

Nancy: I’m not about to get shunned for you though

Nancy: with some discretion and planning, it will be avoided

Teddy: I wouldn’t allow you to be treated appallingly under any circumstances, who do you take me for?

Nancy: Don’t you want another story doing the rounds?

Nancy: you’d come off well, as is another birthright of yours

Teddy: No, not at your expense 

Nancy: Good answer

Teddy: You don’t understand what you mean to me yet, but you’re going to

Nancy: All that concerns me is you having a good night, no one deserves their birthday ruined

Teddy: Okay, I will

Nancy: That’s my job, you relax and let the party happen to you

Teddy: But 0 job talk, I’m not a chore

Nancy: You know I like spending time with you

Teddy: When traffic allows

Nancy: Don’t worry, [the dealers] are taking forever anyway, as is their prerogative 

Teddy: No cake for them

Nancy: Will there be candles?

Teddy: To what end, my wish has been granted

Nancy: Now I know you can always think of more to want

Teddy: True, in which case, absolutely there will be candles

Nancy: 🥺 I’m picturing your face blowing them out right now

Teddy: How do I look?

Nancy: Adorable, makes me emotional

Teddy: Like a mother should be

Nancy: I don’t know what’s happened to me, I’m a hormonal wreck

Nancy: I just feel so protective of you

Teddy: I will need protecting from my father’s rage

Nancy: How does he expect perfectly behaved sons when he acts the way he does?

Nancy: My parents are just the same, as if they’ve given me any guidance 

Teddy: He expects me to be as blinkered as my siblings, but there aren’t enough drugs in the city to addle my brain to that degree & he certainly doesn’t possess enough taboo sex appeal to be my type

Nancy: Forget him

Nancy: these years are the start of the awkward detangling of yourself from your family ties

Teddy: You’ll make me emotional

Nancy: I know it’s scary but you don’t need him, you need to be free, to live how you really want

Teddy: You’re so right, it’s liberating & I’ve craved that for [however many years it’s been since he found that traumatising dad tea]

Nancy: No family will ever actually risk the shame of seeing you destitute, he’ll keep you in the lifestyle you’ve grown in and you won’t actually have to do anything he says 

Nancy: it’s working for me

Teddy: Everything I’m accustomed to with the added bonus of freedom I haven’t been

Nancy: The other week I stayed up [however long, it’s giving crackhead behaviour]

Nancy: and one month, I don’t think I ever saw daylight

Teddy: Break a record with me

Teddy: we’ll sleep when all our enemies are dead

Nancy: Please

Nancy: I so need a playmate

Teddy: Tag, I’m it

Teddy: but you’ve got to stop being such a knockout or I’ll never be able to stay up

Nancy: Jesus, I bet you look so angelic when you’re asleep

Teddy: Promise you’ll stay long enough to watch me

Nancy: I can’t promise to leave you sleeping though

Teddy: Where’s the fun in that?

Nancy: You’re going to be far too busy to go into work, that’s for sure

Teddy: I wonder who he’ll send to fetch me?

Nancy: Doesn’t he make your sister do all those sort of jobs?

Teddy: I promise she’ll overhear you, however loud the party continues

Nancy: I plan to make her very sorry for not being a better sister to you

Teddy: She thought she felt sorry for herself after what she walked in on the last time she was sent to locate me

Nancy: Go on

Teddy: Guess

Teddy: it was [and tell her the date so she knows what moments between y’all had occurred for him to be thinking of]

Nancy: Oh

Nancy: You were thinking about the drinking game we played, before you left

Nancy: where were you when she found you?

Teddy: Yes

Teddy: I’d taken over J’s office since he barely uses it

Nancy: You know I had to get him to come over so I didn’t just take you down my throat instead of the bottle on that balcony

Nancy: you aren’t mad anymore, are you, there were so many people watching, you were alone in private when you got caught

Teddy: A little, but I’m keeping track of the party tricks I’m owed being shown

Nancy: You left, you could have listened

Teddy: I left work too, remember

Nancy: Looking for me

Teddy: To be discovered at the bottom of a mimosa, eventually

Nancy: Hey, I said you could stay, didn’t I

Nancy: and I came back and took care of you

Teddy: You were feeling maternal that day as well, quite the habit forming

Nancy: You’re such a lost boy

Nancy: I’m only human, how can I resist

Teddy: Are you only human? I beg to differ

Nancy: 😳

Nancy: [send him back the accidental reflection nude he sent her that day]

Nancy: wanting to be caught might be one of your habits

Teddy: Wanting everyone to witness the effect you have on me

Nancy: She should’ve knocked

Nancy: or let you finish, at least

Teddy: I did finish, I’M only human & can’t resist you

Nancy: I’m so bloody proud of you 😁

Teddy: I’m a good boy

Nancy: You’re my good boy, I can’t wait to cover your pretty face in kisses

Teddy: [the exact shade name of the lipstick she was wearing last time they interacted/her signature one if she has one] doesn’t suit my hopeless girlfriend either

Nancy: Even a cheap imitation won’t come close and she’s nowhere near

Nancy: you search for me in every other person

Teddy: I have to have you

Nancy: You’ll still wake up in soaked sheets, calling for me

Teddy: Because they’ll still be from you the night before

Nancy: No one has made me wetter than you

Teddy: I couldn’t believe what I was feeling

Nancy: We’ve both done all of it so many times before but

Teddy: You were taking my virginity instead

Nancy: What made you pick her?

Teddy: I wanted to do it there & then, she was willing to & fit all the other typical criteria, you know, not horrifically hideous, experienced enough without being run through to the point I’d catch something

Nancy: All valid

Nancy: Why then?

Teddy: Who would you have picked for me?

Nancy: Hmm

Nancy: [a list of popular girls in his year like that’s the logical conclusion]

Teddy: All of them at the same time?

Nancy: Ha, no, you’d be terrified, poor boy

Nancy: any of though

Teddy: They would, which is why I went older, a non-virgin

Nancy: You always go older

Teddy: Girls my age are boring

Nancy: What about boys?

Teddy: They also think the type of rough sex everyone likes makes them adventurous, it’s a vanilla era

Nancy: 💔

Teddy: The uni years will make or break them all

Nancy: Allegedly what they’re for

Teddy: I’ll be waiting & watching

Nancy: I’ve never told anyone who I lost my virginity to

Teddy: Whyever not? Who was it?

Nancy: Everyone thinks it was [one of the boys in your friendship group of that time], which is the right look

Nancy: but I didn’t want to embarrass myself and have it told to everyone so it wasn’t really

Teddy: So tell me who it was really

Nancy: I doubt you’d even know

Teddy: I won’t unless you say

Nancy: [give this boy’s name], he was a couple years below me

Nancy: and not remotely anyone anyone went around with so

Teddy: [obvs immediately go and do your own stalk of him and tell her whatever it is you find]

Nancy: We don’t need to invite him, you’re okay

Teddy: How wet did he make you?

Nancy: Shut up, idiot

Nancy: I’ve told you enough

Teddy: Never

Teddy: x 2

Nancy: Maybe I’ve never stopped thinking about him, how about that

Teddy: Okay, I’ll invite him, once I tell him you said that he’ll be beyond excited to attend

Nancy: Don’t you dare

Teddy: Don’t dare me to, talk to me about it

Nancy: Why do you want to know

Teddy: Because you’d prefer I didn’t

Nancy: You’re so strange

Teddy: You love knowing things people don’t want you to

Nancy: To use against them

Teddy: I’ll use it against you if that makes you feel better

Nancy: You could already destroy me and that makes me feel sick

Teddy: But I’m not going to, you already know that

Nancy: I don’t, I have to trust you

Nancy: you need to commit a crime and confide in me

Teddy: I do confide in you, I’ve been crying on your shoulder all day

Nancy: It was the best sex I had until I left school

Nancy: he was sweet but I never spoke to him outside of hooking up, ever

Teddy: How many times did you hook up with him?

Nancy: I’d call him after every disappointing hook-up for a while, maybe that whole year

Nancy: he got a girlfriend at some point

Teddy: Are you SURE you wouldn’t like me to extend the invitation, darling?

Nancy: I’m sure I’d have to kill you

Nancy: he probably still despises me

Teddy: He answered your calls for a whole year, clearly not

Nancy: Because I trained him

Nancy: I showed him what I liked and how to do it and he got to in return, no boy I knew was going to be so willing to learn alongside me

Teddy: Exactly, he was eager & training rarely gets unlearned that’s why you get to call it that

Nancy: He got tired of being used

Teddy: He’s had plenty of time to forget how tiring it was but fondly recall the rest

Nancy: I can see the fantasy in your head but it’s not going to happen

Nancy: everyone is disappointing, I told you

Teddy: You’re not, you can make anything happen

Nancy: I couldn’t even make your brother sleep with me

Teddy: Forget him, Chlo keeps that part of my brother in her [another designer we’re shading] bag anyway

Nancy: Not now, he’s out there risking it all for Ava

Nancy: I could feel him recoil through my screen, and I was really off my face at the time, it was palpable disgust 

Teddy: Ava’s used to sleeping with girls who self-loathe, it makes no difference to her if he’s been castrated

Nancy: My father really will when he finds out

Teddy: You need a real man of your own for your daddy to disapprove of, for reasons that are amusing, not tragic 

Nancy: He despises me too, he’d sooner lock me away in a convent 

Teddy: How despicably catholic

Nancy: Buster did all the same things I did but he only applauded it in him

Teddy: My father is cut from the same sexist cloth

Teddy: if I were your daddy I’d give you free rein

Nancy: You would?

Teddy: Totally

Nancy: Would you be proud of me?

Teddy: You’d give me no choice but to be FULL of pride, Nancy

Nancy: You’d be a really good daddy to have

Teddy: The bar’s as low as it was for you being my mummy but I’d do my absolute best even so

Nancy: What do you think you’ve tried hardest at, in your whole life?

Teddy: Cheering you up

Nancy: 🥴🥴🥴🥴

Nancy: I can tell you mean that

Teddy: I hate seeing you upset

Nancy: Right now, I couldn’t be happier, promise

Teddy: Are [the dealers] there yet?

Nancy: Do you think I’ve started without you?

Teddy: I can tell when you’re rolling or not

Nancy: You miss me

Teddy: Almost always

Nancy: I’m assured they’re practically here

Nancy: not long now, darling

Teddy: Too long, a second would be

Nancy: We’re going to have to spend so long apart at the party

Teddy: Don’t say that, be close to me

Nancy: EVERYONE is going to be dying to be close to you, to wish you happy birthday, give you drinks and other presents

Teddy: I may as well be all alone if you leave me with anyone else

Nancy: I won’t go anywhere, it’s the place to be

Teddy: Inside you is the only place I want to be

Nancy: I want that too, more than anything

Teddy: Your narrow escape from convent life would make you more of an expert than I am but I can think of at least the 🍃 costume meaning we don’t need clothes & to stay in character we have to constantly fuck

Nancy: You are such an exhibitionist 🐍🍎

Teddy: & you a temptress 

Nancy: You’re getting into the Catholicism now

Teddy: Just us in the world is a tempting idea

Nancy: Yes

Nancy: but I still can’t be seen with you

Teddy: We’ll cover your face, as was the original plan with [whatever costume he picked before]

Teddy: how many other underage boys have seen your body?

Nancy: Wow, you’re funny

Teddy: I AM joking

Nancy: And it was SO funny

Nancy: I can be at the party, other older people will be, just start thinking of creative ways to not get caught

Teddy: It’s my party, you can be seen with me

Teddy: we were on your balcony & dancing together before I was rudely hit in the face

Nancy: Seen dancing and seen with you inside of me are different things but yeah

Teddy: I’ll keep my bedroom door on its hinges to fuck you against, fine

Nancy: I hate rules as much as you

Nancy: it’s not me making them, try to remember and only take it out on me in fun ways

Teddy: 16 is the silly rule & I am, we waited

Nancy: You have a girlfriend, I have a boyfriend

Teddy: Spell monogamy, I bet you can’t without autocorrect 

Nancy: I could sue if you keep abusing me

Teddy: It’s a word no one on the whole scene cares about & a number someone plucked out of nowhere

Nancy: It wouldn’t be you they cared to talk about if they knew

Teddy: Blah blah blah

Teddy: you aren’t committing a crime & you aren’t old enough to be my actual real mother, it’s a few years

Nancy: You get my point, you’re just being stubborn

Teddy: I understand you’re THAT afraid of being talked about you’d be repeatedly railed in secret by [+ a very specific drag for this poor sweet boy she lost her virginity to], perhaps he & I will wear a suitable couple costume given we belong to the same club

Nancy: Good luck with that

Nancy: You can go shopping for them when you’ve picked up

Teddy: Wow, okay

Nancy: You pushed me

Teddy: You’ve got catholic guilt

Nancy: You’ve got an ego problem

Teddy: Happy birthday to me 🎀

Teddy: there’s supposed to be a repetitive song sung not a dance done with the same wild yet dull missteps 

Nancy: You’re the man, you lead

Nancy: if we’re back here, it’s your fault

Teddy: It’s yours if you break my foot

Nancy: Like when you did nothing to provoke getting punched in the face?

Teddy: What did I do to justify your meathead ex hitting me?

Nancy: Don’t play dumb

Teddy: I’m under no illusion he’s capable of forming complete sentences but a grunt would’ve sufficed 

Nancy: You always want a reaction

Teddy: That’s what life is

Nancy: I’m just saying, you got it

Teddy: Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to react to me in front of anyone

Teddy: message received

Nancy: Is it?

Teddy: I’m not slow, this car is to turn around

Nancy: Are you getting your drugs?

Teddy: I’ll be gifted any I could want

Nancy: That’s not the point but sure

Teddy: Your point is, I’m a bad dancer & you don’t need a lift

Nancy: You aren’t a bad dancer, actually

Teddy: I know, but it’s bound to be my ego problem answering

Nancy: Stop pissing me off and I’ll be nicer to you

Teddy: You started it

Nancy: You, being so childish

Teddy: You, afraid of people you don’t even like playing chinese whispers

Nancy: Because I’ll be the one left with nothing but my reputation

Teddy: I’m not leaving you

Nancy: you will

Teddy: For what?

Nancy: 👰‍♀️👶👶🏡🚗

Teddy: Be serious

Nancy: Fine, for someone newer and hotter

Teddy: They don’t exist either

Nancy: Until I let you do the things we haven’t yet

Teddy: We aren’t going to run out of things to do, we’re both geniuses, use your brain for instead of against me 

Nancy: You think I’m stupid for caring

Nancy: don’t you care what people think of you?

Teddy: If I cared for reputation I’d be my father’s little wind-up toy & do as he pleases, set myself up for life

Nancy: What about our peers, not your family

Teddy: Our only true peers are each other, they’re all too far below us to bother mentioning

Nancy: I want to only care what you think, it hurts so much when you’re disappointed in me

Teddy: It’s hard for you to let go of them because they were the closest you had, I do understand

Nancy: My family has been out of the question for years

Nancy: but I can’t be alone

Teddy: But you can’t keep stooping to their level, you’ll lose yourself

Nancy: I’m scared

Teddy: I’ll pull you away, you don’t have to do anything except hold onto me instead

Nancy: You won’t let me go

Teddy: No

Nancy: Okay, I want you to

Teddy: Good girl

Nancy: Stupid girl

Nancy: but I’ll make it up to you

Teddy: Scared isn’t stupid, I’ll keep you safe

Nancy: No one has caught me before

Teddy: If only you were a rugby ball

Nancy: or another rugby boy 💔

Teddy: Your daddy should’ve taught you there’s 0 to fear for the girl you are, every door is open & every head turns when you walk through it

Nancy: You see me, how I’d want to be seen by everyone, myself included

Teddy: No one turns me on more than you, in all the ways a switch can be flipped inside someone

Nancy: I can see it in your eyes, what gets to you

Teddy: They go bluer for you because I want you to be able to see into me, like [insert the boujee-est body of water imaginable, eg the sea in the most expensive holiday destination, we know the vibes]

Nancy: Your eyes should be inspiration for the next [a boujee jewellery brand like Tiffanys etc] collection

Teddy: Did your body inspire [an expensive af car because some of them do be shaped saucy like that]?

Nancy: You’re such a charmer, but it’s so damn cute

Nancy: it actually works instead of making me roll my eyes

Teddy: I’ll prove how safe you are by crashing one into the house without putting a mark anywhere on that body

Nancy: I’ll help you crash, I can think of plenty of ways to make it happen

Teddy: & help me buy it, I can’t even take my test yet 🥺

Nancy: They haven’t got you a car for your birthday?

Nancy: That’s so, so mean

Teddy: My predictable father isn’t opening his wallet for anything but a suit for the office

Nancy: What a bastard

Nancy: good thing you’ll look so handsome in it or it’d be a complete waste

Teddy: I’ll ask again, what are you getting me?

Nancy: I can’t afford a car you’d want, baby

Nancy: don’t get your hopes up to be dashed

Teddy: I’ll pay for it, you drive it out of the showroom, teamwork

Nancy: long as you name it after me

Teddy: No other would do

Nancy: I got extra time on my theory test too, you know

Teddy: Did you pass first time?

Nancy: Yeah, the person who read it out to me was giving the answers away with how they read it

Nancy: flaw in the system but there we go, worked in my favour for once

Teddy: I’m imagining [insert a celeb with a hot voice]

Nancy: Would that not be distracting? 😏

Nancy: Everyone failed [the hot teacher Chlo fancied]’s lesson

Teddy: What a pity for Chlo’s sake he didn’t teach every lesson, because she certainly failed them all

Nancy: Too busy working out her really solid plan for life, obviously, it went SO well

Teddy: Eeny meeny miny moe is VERY taxing for her

Nancy: [pit the rest of these boys in your friend group against each other, not including your own brother but all y’all otherwise, like she should’ve gone with him because xyz, now that James has shamed you and you are going to have to be a hater]

Teddy: [ofc add your 2 cents about all these boys as if they were your friends too and you know them that well because the vibe with everyone you’re shading always]

Nancy: [name a couple of guys from this group] would let you blow them, for sure, [and give stories you either have on no real authority or it is not your business to out their bi-curiosity if it is true lmao]

Nancy: Don’t say I never do anything for you ✨

Teddy: [one of them lol] has

Teddy: [and obvs tell her the story of whatever you and this boy got up to and when]

Nancy: [this boy’s current gf] will be fuming when I tell her

Teddy: Whatever you do for me will forever be reciprocated ✨

Nancy: Teamwork, right

Teddy: Correct

Nancy: Tell me what you like about boys

Teddy: What do you like about them?

Nancy: That’s not an answer

Teddy: Our answers are more than likely to match

Nancy: Point made

Teddy: A more interesting question is, what DON’T you like about girls?

Nancy: Is it?

Teddy: What’s stopping you from being the same as me?

Nancy: I’d never date a girl

Teddy: I don’t date anyone

Nancy: Exactly

Nancy: dating isn’t just sex and it isn’t just about the other person

Teddy: What about [a girl who is everything she could possibly ask for in terms of status and the things that make dating worthwhile to them]?

Nancy: No

Nancy: for the same reason it upsets you that everyone thinks you’re gay

Teddy: Whatever can be weaponised is, life goes on

Nancy: I don’t hand people ammunition 

Teddy: Some bullets are worth taking

Nancy: Then that must be the difference between you and I

Teddy: It would seem to be a key one, the amount of arguments it has caused, to date

Nancy: We’re incompatible 

Nancy: but not as friends

Teddy: We’ll be compatible when you change your ways

Nancy: Why would I need to change mine when you could change yours

Teddy: Because mine are right & you said you would

Nancy: Why do you want me to end up with [this random girl he mentioned] so badly?

Teddy: She could be your happy ending, why are you this resistant to change?

Nancy: Happy endings do not exist, for starters

Teddy: According to which of your poor relatives?

Nancy: According to me

Teddy: You’re looking in the wrong places, that’s all

Teddy: no wonder you’re disheartened 

Nancy: I’m not gay and you’re delusional 

Teddy: Oh do forget about [this girl], it’s gay of you to still be considering her

Nancy: YOU

Nancy: or maybe you should stop whoring around and consider her yourself, if she’s that perfect apparently

Teddy: She was the perfect example to illustrate your hang-ups, but no thank you, I don’t want her

Nancy: you don’t want to stop, let’s be honest here

Teddy: Are you asking me to?

Nancy: Of course not

Nancy: but you illustrate the fact that it’s rude you’re trying to tell me what to do when I’ve done nothing of the sort to you

Teddy: It’s friendly advice for you to take or leave, stop being SO touchy

Nancy: I’m not taking advice from a child, thanks

Teddy: I’m not a child until you’re looking for an easy shot to fire

Nancy: Until faced with reality 

Teddy: You’re sulking, if we’re facing reality

Nancy: You’re a know-it-all who’s got no real-world experience 

Teddy: You literally live in a hotel, darling, there’s no sting in the tail of your argument, I’m afraid

Nancy: And maybe I’m sick of it all

Teddy: Tell me what you want

Nancy: You can’t give it to me

Teddy: Why not?

Nancy: I’m not going to insult you on your birthday

Teddy: Too late

Nancy: So stop it

Teddy: You’re impossible

Nancy: You think I don’t know that?

Nancy: so stop talking about happy endings and the rest of this because it’s unfeasible 

Teddy: I haven’t the slightest idea what you know, except that what fills your head isn’t any of the things which should

Nancy: Make a stupid gag and be done with it

Teddy: What makes you think I want to be done with you?

Nancy: All the arguing we KEEP doing

Teddy: Don’t you like it?

Nancy: You don’t

Teddy: Nonsense

Nancy: You’re so sick of me

Teddy: Of not being able to make you gag

Nancy: I didn’t vom and ruin all the fun, if you recall

Teddy: [whoever was sick] did, but only temporarily

Nancy: You came back

Teddy: & I’m on my way to you now

Nancy: You’re so much nicer than people give you credit, Teddy

Teddy: There’s 0 I can’t give you, I need you to understand that

Nancy: I’m scared of what I might want from you

Teddy: Whatever it is, I wouldn’t tell you no

Nancy: I know

Nancy: remember when [her ex] left and you followed me into my room

Teddy: I had to check how you were

Nancy: even though you were getting so much attention from her, which I know is your favourite

Teddy: Your attention is my favourite

Teddy: even though you wished for me to be in greater pain than Theo’s capable of causing

Nancy: Don’t bring it up again

Nancy: you know I didn’t know that you cared, that you would wait

Teddy: I’d be a fool not to

Nancy: I’ve missed you so dreadfully, I wish I’d dumped him over the phone

Teddy: While humping my leg would’ve been the perfect time, even he would’ve got the message

Nancy: 🥺🐶 don’t tease

Nancy: It was tortuous, having to talk about you ALL damn night whilst we argued

Teddy: He’s a tease, refusing to kiss me after an entire night of homoerotic displays, for who else’s benefit?

Nancy: One can only imagine, truly

Nancy: did you have to get your trousers dry-cleaned?

Teddy: It would break my heart to wash you away like that

Teddy: What did you say about me?

Nancy: I love the way you think

Nancy: you wouldn’t like it, I had to defend myself from his accusations of fucking you and rubbing it in his face

Teddy: Unfounded accusations, of course you did

Nancy: I had to say you were a kid, an old family friend

Nancy: neither technically untrue but the bitemark on my thigh felt realer

Teddy: How long did it take him to notice?

Nancy: You want to know?

Teddy: I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t

Nancy: He pulled my legs apart at some point in the argument, rather justifying his point that I’m a complete slut

Teddy: I hope you replied he’s a complete slut for [the numbers of the rugby teammates he was being especially extra with]

Nancy: If I’d had you with me, perhaps I’d have thought of that

Teddy: If he hurt you, you can think of a fitting punishment, it isn’t too late

Nancy: No, I let him

Nancy: I needed it and I knew you’d be with [his gf] and it was all for the best at the time

Teddy: She let me fuck her on your bedroom floor

Nancy: I hate you

Teddy: No you don’t

Nancy: No

Nancy: but I can’t stand that you replaced me

Teddy: You’re irreplaceable 

Nancy: You

Nancy: it felt like being [however old you were when you lost your virginity] again, the comparison between how you made me feel and how Theo didn’t

Teddy: You can stay [that age]

Nancy: You can’t stay a secret

Teddy: As long as you aren’t ashamed to be seen with me, that’s all I care about

Nancy: I’m not even ashamed of myself, that’s just how everyone will want me to feel

Teddy: I repeat, tell me what you want

Nancy: You, to be with you

[bates--boy]

Oh! Oh, so his plan is "shit", huh? Well, who gave a shit what the perpetually sad teen who desperately needed shots of Pediasure thinks about how to raise a child?

... Apparently Peter did, because nothing was stopping him from getting off that couch and walking out the door like he had wanted to when shit had hit the fan. He could go and continue to do what he knew was best for his child, instead of sitting here and letting his ears be filled with whole bunch of bullshit, his face probably flooding redder and redder by the minute. Except, there was the possibility that if he did walk out, there was no guarantee that Raivis wouldn't go blabbing to the whole wide world about his daughter. Probably not out of outward vindictiveness, but "c o n c e r n". (Yeah, fucking right.)

So, he sat there, hearing Raivis's plea for the child he knew nothing about, as well as the ways that Raivis used Peter's past to argue against him. (Yeah, so he's officially done with opening up to people.) And there was trying to ignore the churning of his stomach and the sour taste in his mouth forming because, dammit, Peter could not deny that for all the nonsense Raivis was feeding him and Peter hadn't want, there were some goddamn good points. He kept scowling at the coffee table and the dishware and food that littered it, waiting until Raivis was done with his tongue pressed into his cheek.

"Wow, Raivis," Peter said, feeling, of all things, a grin forming on his face. "That's quite a case you made there, but I also have a feeling that you don't know the lengths I can and will go to protect my kid."

Without looking at Raivis, Peter began to wring his hands and crack his knuckles. "I can forge her birth certificates and whatever else when the time comes." He was going to have to, anyway, so the documents would match their physical age and there wouldn't be any hiccups down the road; after that, he knew he would have to destroy the originals and whatever traces would connect her to Sealand. "And lies, secrecy, semantics, semantics, whatever. Fine, call what I'm doing 'lying', I don't give a rat's ass. I'll lie to her to keep her away from this shit." He'll gaslight, if he'd need to. Hell, he'll eternal sunshine his daughter if it came down to it.

...Okay, maybe he wouldn't do that, because that would take it too far, but he went on, "And I just have to get good at it, that's all. Which is a good thing that I'm a writer and she'd be a toddler. I can tell her... that we're test subjects for a longevity medicine or gene modification, and that's why we and her grandfathers stay young for so long while others don't." Again, meant to be a joke, and, again, something Peter stored in his head for later use.

The self-satisfied grin was gone as soon as it came, as Peter crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "And you say that I'm basing my decision to keep my daughter safe and happy on how I feel about my life? Well, no shit, I am; no shit, that I don't want her to experience what I've went through, on top of the mental disorder she's probably gotten from me and her ma. None of us popped into existence planning to go into war or getting involved in politics, and yet look where we ended up: going into war, some of y'all for hundreds of years, passed around from one sovereignty to the next.

"Unless you meant that Sadaf didn't have anything to worry about just because she's a capital of an abandoned war fort, which, yeah, I get it. Sealand's hardly a blip on the political radar, and no one thinks about the fort unless they're looking for gag gifts or an out-of-the-box topic to write their zany little listicles about. Sealand poses no threat, but that still hadn't stopped Arthur and his goddamn parliament from trying to destroy me, now didn't it? It didn't stop those Nazi-Lite weirdos from Germany and The Netherlands from tying me and my prince up while they staged a coup."

Both events were so long ago, but still felt so fresh in Peter's mind, because the bullshit felt like it didn't stop. "And despite all of that, and the fact that there's no longer anything to gain from ruling a busted up fort that's falling apart, my fucking idiot of a prince still plans on expanding Sealand!" Ah, shit, when did his leg start jiggling? When did he cross his arms so tightly that it felt like his ribs were going to pop? "All these renovations and additions to the fort, they won't do shit to give Sealand any political power, but you can bet your ass it would still draw some heat to us, 'cause if there's anything you can count on, it's Arthur being a power-hungry bully trying to get his kicks in any way he can." And, again, he was not going to put his daughter through that.

He inhaled sharply and dragged his hands down his face, hearing nothing in his head except Danger danger danger danger danger. She's in danger you're in danger you're both in danger. "She can grow to resent me all she wants in the slight chance that she finds all of this out," he said behind his hands, "but, sorry, I'm not going to reconsider shit."

"I have thought about it!" Peter shot back with more exasperation than he knew was necessary. "Like, I can tell her that she's still so small while everyone's getting bigger because she was born a preemie, and that's just what happens to them." Now, that was a joke. Or, it was meant to be a joke, but as Peter said it out loud, he considered it, and how long that lie would work for a gullible child until they outgrew the gullibility.

Peter took another sip, a swig this time, wishing that the damn tea would work to calm his nerves. Goddamn, did he wish he hadn't quit drinking; a long pull of whiskey would have been perfect now. "But seriously, you don't think I haven't thought about this?" Of course, he had; he broke his own heart every night imagining Sadaf watching her mother go gray, becoming too frail to take care of her daughter, crawling closer and closer to the grave as she became old enough to be Sadaf's grandmother. And her half-siblings; god, it was going to hurt to see his daughter, who'll probably be physically five or six, watch her sister and brother reach their thirties. But--

"I have. I really did, and it sucks. It's going to suck. But it's better than the alternative. She can't know about this existence or others like her--" except her family and, now, apparently, Raivis, "-- because you know how fucked up we all are? Almost none of us are stable! The ones even close to stable are my fathers and uncles, and they're going to give her more than enough of what she needs.

"And what she needs is to be happy." Finally, he looked back at Raivis. Once upon a time, Peter was terrified of mortality. Was terrified of becoming human, which seemed to come so easily for micronations, and all the issues that came with it, like becoming sick over and over and slowly fading away. Hutt River and Niko Republic, now wandering the earth as fragile and vulnerable, with no guarantee of waking up when he die. And he was still terrified. But there was an unshakeable resolve in his voice as he said, "Sadaf and I will become human soon. Sealand still has twenty, maybe thirty years tops before it finally falls apart, and that's if it doesn't dissolve before then. When she becomes human, I don't want Sadaf to spend the rest of her short life carrying the hell of being a geopolitical demigod like we have. "

The hell of dying of starvation and illnesses in his isolated little fort, only to wake up and do it all over again. To have his dreams crushed and his hard work ignored, his accomplishments mocked, and to be brushed aside unless they wanted a jester to perform for them or smile while they humiliated him. To be told that he would never be enough, he would never matter to Arthur, or anyone, in the way that Alfred or Matthew would, and still, still, he would have had to swallow his pride and beg Arthur for scraps to eat. He could be adopted by Berwald lifetimes over, and bask in the delight and warmth of Raivis' welcome and love, and he would still be that lonely, lost, feral little boy.

And though that despair came back to crush his soul, and though he was to the brink of tears, there was a hardness beyond the exhaustion Peter's eyes. "I don't know what I'll tell her when the time comes, but I know this: she's not going to know about this life. She's not going to know about her shitty bio family just like they don't need to know about her. She's going to have the happy childhood that I haven't had, and she's not going to grow up damaged like I have."

He drained the rest of his tea and set the cup on the table. "Besides, it's only going to be for the next twenty years; I think I can manage to keep up the ruse for that short time. After that, she can have all the normal connections she can make."

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu CD VERSUS Ⅳ Vol.1 Ayato VS Kino VS Shin [Track 2]

Original title: 真実(ほんとう)の想い

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS Do-S Kyuuketsu VERSUS Ⅳ Vol.1 AYATO VS Kino VS Shin [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Midorikawa Hikaru, Morikubo Shoutaro & Tomoaki Maeno

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

TRACK 2: GENUINE FEELINGS

You are running away from Shin as you enter a random room.

*THUD*

Shin: …Ugh!

You come to a halt.

Shin: …Hehe. Too bad. Seems like you hit a dead end. 

He approaches you.

Shin: …He got me, honestly. If it weren’t for the drug affecting me, I could have caught you in the blink of an eye. ーー Just like this!

Shin grabs hold of you as you begin to struggle. 

*Rustle rustle*

Shin: You little…Don’t make a fuss!

He retrains you. 

Shin: Haah, haah…Hehe. Did you seriously believe you could get away from me? I didn’t mind that little game of tag, but I’m starting to get seriously thirsty. …You heard him earlier, didn’t you? I need your blood to be able to suppress this thirst for blood …Those Vampires are sucking your blood left and right all the time so…You’re pretty much used to it at this point, aren’t you? …For one, as the King of Founders, Nii-san is the one you belong to. It’s only natural for you to offer your blood to us.

You protest.

Shin: Haah…? You still don’t understand your own position?

*Rustle rustle*

Shin: Ugh…Ah…My throat…

You ask whether he’s alright.

Shin: What makes you think I’d be alright!? Stop spouting nonsense but hurry up and…Ugh!

You give Shin permission to drink your blood. 

Shin: Haah…!? …Heeh. 

You ask him to be gentle.

Shin: Haah…? What are you saying? Of course I’m going to be rough with you. You refused to give me your blood right away after all. So I have to punish you now.

*Rustle*

Shin: I’ll suck all the blood from your body, until you’ve run completely dry. 

You begin to fight back again.

*Rustle rustle*

Shin: Oh just keep still already! You’re pissing me off…! You seem to have no issue giving your blood to that Vampire after all…Aah. Right. I wonder how Ayato will react if he finds out all the cruel things that were done to you? Hehehe…That’s yet another thing to look forward to. Well then~ …Now where should I suck from first? 

He takes in your scent.

Shin: Hm~ …Heh. Such a slender neck. I feel like it could snap underneath the slightest bit of pressure. I guess I’ll suck from here? 

*Smooch*

Shin: …Hehehe…You’re shivering. You want me to hurry up and bite you already, don’t you? …Hey, do you have any idea just how much it’ll hurt if I were to plunge my fangs in here? ーー Nah, I guess you know damn well. You’ve been getting a kick out of those Vampires preying on you after all. The blood they’ve been greedily feasting upon is honestly revolting but I have no other choice right now. …I’ll bear with it.

Shin bites you.

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

Shin: …Mmhah! …Haah, haah…How odd…Your blood doesn’t taste bad. Could this be because of the medicine as well? …Heh. It sucks that I had to be drugged as well but…this taste is pretty nice. I’ll leave my marks all over your body. To the point where Ayato will lose all hope!

You ask Shin why he hates Vampires so much.

Shin: …Haah? Honestly, the fact that he’s a Vampire isn’t the issue. It’s just…I can’t forgive that guy in particular. He was given immense powers. Even now, he should be capable of shaking the whole Demon World to its foundations. But those powers were actually meant for Nii-san…! If the only other option is for that Vampire to have them, then I’d rather just steal them myself! 

…Exactly! I should have had a chance at them as well. If I had inherited them instead, thenーー!!

You frown.

Shin: Ah, fuck…I said too much. It’s because my head has been spinning…

You protest.

Shin: Shut up! …I don’t want to hear another word from you!

He continues sucking your blood. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: Nnn…Yeah…You’re right…I wanted power…

*Sluuuuurp*

Shin: I can never surpass Nii-san…I knew that…But still…I wanted to nevertheless. That’s why I yearned for power. Power so overwhelming, it would allow me to crush everything and everyone in my path! But it was stolen from under my nose…by that guy, out of all people!

You attempt to comfort him but Shin pushes you away.

Shin: I don’t need your pity! …You chose Ayato as well, didn’t you? That’s why you’re with him, right!? Or why you always take his side!? …I can never get the things I want! …Ah. …Haah, haah…I can’t…I’m so incredibly parched…It feels like I’m going to lose it…

*Rustle rustle*

Shin: More…I need more…! Let me suck your blood!

He pins you down once more. 

*Rustle rustle*

Shin: Hehe…If you keep kicking your legs around, your skirt will move up. …Well, not that I’d get turned on from seeing your uniform. However…

*Rustle*

Shin: I don’t dislike these legs of yours.

You flinch.

Shin: Hehe…! Why are you pissing your pants? …Or are you shivering in anticipation, perhaps? Rest assured…I’ll only be leaving my mark on this pale skin of yours!

He bites your leg. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: Mm…Nnh!

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: Ah…This is bad…I’ve already sucked so much…But the urge isn’t getting any less…! If anything, I only want it even more right now…

*Rustle rustle*

Shin: I’ll suck from a different spot next…

*Thud*

Shin: …!? Ah…Why are you crying…? Look a little more happy at least! …You gladly let that guy have your blood all the time, don’t you!? So why am I no good…!? 

You explain that Ayato is more gentle and considerate with you.

Shin: Haah…? Heh! So that’s what you’re into? You humans are such fools.

*Rustle*

Shin: …All I need to do is hold your hand? Does intertwining our fingers like this really make it hurt any less? Heehー In that case…

He bites you once more. 

*Sluuuurp* 

Shin: Mm… ーー Hah. Heh. Just look at that dreamy look in your eyes. So this is how you like it, huh? I can’t get enough of your tears either, but this is what I wanted to see. …Makes me want to do all sorts of other things.

Mmh…Nn…

*Rustle*

Shin: Nn…Ugh…Hey, I’m just so thirsty after all…I want you. Not just your blood either, but your everything. 

*Rustle*

Shin: Even if I can’t have the power I wanted…I want to at least be able to make you mine. By doing so…While I won’t be able to surpass Nii-san…At least I’d win over that guy, over Ayato!

He cups your cheek.

Shin: If I were to steal these lips of yours, do you think he would get jealous? You know the answer to that question, don’t you? Hey…Tell me.

*Sluuuurp*

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[hotwings0203]

Gilded Cage

A/N: It’s embarrassing how long this took but oh well, happy new year to everyone and I hope you enjoy scummy yandere hawks!

Warnings: dubcon, kidnapping, abuse, toxic relationships, degradation, yandere themes

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

At first she welcomed the bright flashing lights like a breath of fresh air, but in due time it made her throat close up like the rest of the situation.

He had agreed to let her out if she behaved, and that meant no biting, scratching, screaming, flinching, temper tantrums, and worst of all, no silent treatment.

And she would take it like a champ if it meant seeing any other person in 6 months.

He had kept her here like a flightless bird in this cage of theirs, and oh how ironic it was that she was succumbed to be the prey of this ruthless hawk, with him able to soar amongst the people and buildings while Y/n stayed perched in the house, her ever-growing wings mentally becoming too much for her to control and stay silent about.

She needed space, she wanted to leave, but she didn’t dare voicing any of her wants, especially when Keigo made it so clear how her meager wants were of no match for his needs.

And his needs, as he’s made so clear thus far, include her being a pliant, quiet, yet loving little birdie who cooks, cleans, and lays with him day and night without complaint.

God forbid she speaks up about her...living conditions, as he liked to so generously supply to her the first and last time she ever had this conversation with him. She tried telling him how she originally had loved their relationship of a couple of months, and sure it might have been weird for him to push her into moving in with him only after 3 months, but it was because of how much he loved her or so he said at least, when he bashed her head repeatedly on the ground when she told him it “wasn’t normal to rush into things so fast”.

Sure, he had a big spacious penthouse lent to him by the Hero Commission so being physically cramped was never a problem, and yes okay he showered her with gifts and little trinkets, just like birds did with their mates even more so after a big fight that usually left her black and blue, with swollen lips, ripped up knees and big red welts on her wrists while the hero himself was left with not even a feather out of place.

But there were days where their movie nights and cuddling sessions didn’t cut it for her anymore. There were nights when she couldn’t take his suffocating arms around her a second longer, only to be replaced by an even heavier and darker presence when she tried turning on her side away from him.

Sometimes it would be a chain reaction caused by the smallest of catalysts, however. It would be on a day where he left the restraints on a little too tightly, and Y/n was forced to use toothpaste on her wrists instead of the salve Keigo always kept in the medicine closet. Other times it would happen when he would keep feeling up her sides and pressing into her after a long day of her cooking in hopes that the plentiful food would be enough to keep him occupied away from her, even if it was for an hour or two.

It never was, though. He always wanted her, whether it was her scent, her presence, or her clothes that he kept in his pockets on his missions.

On those days, the days where she felt too much Keigo, too many feathers and too much Hawks was when she snapped.

Down would go the plates, the expensive wine glasses, the vases filled with flowers sent by hundreds of fangirls who knew nothing about the monster that he actually was. She’d tear out her mussed hair, red-faced with tears that ruined her makeup the makeup that she liked to wear on these types of days just to piss him off, knowing that he thought “excess makeup is for whores and catfishes. I already know you’re a whore, well, my whore, but you’re not even good enough at applying makeup to be deemed a catfish so don’t even try it hummingbird” while screaming in his face to let go, for the love of god Hawks PLEASE let me go I want to go home I don’t want this anymore I don’t want YOU anymore this isn’t working out I don’t love you-

And crack would be the sound of his palm across her face, knocking her to the floor. On these types of days he wouldn’t even think she deserved a change in facial expression, staring down at her pathetic trembling body while his lips were set in a subtle casual smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets as if he never raised an arm a second ago, and his eyes remained golden and neutral, the only indication of him processing her tantrum was the black glint in his pupils that dilated every time she gasped and sobbed on the floor.

To ensure that his precious, oh-so fragile lovebird wouldn’t hurt herself any further with her stupidity, he’d crouch down inches away from her face and cock his head slightly as a real bird would do. He’d reach out and lift her chin to face him while his other hand would snake up her thigh to try and console her which only succeeded in making her shake and breath unevenly.

Leaning forward to ghost his lips over the shell of her ear, he’d relish in the way her mouth would part in terror as he would lovingly whisper every threat of what he’d do to her the next time she wanted to be like a brat, because god help her if she thought he couldn’t tame a brat after dealing with a lifetime of villains.

It was almost laughable, how easy she was to silence. He didn’t even need to use feathers to pull her to her feet when he would tell her to go to the bed and get on all fours like the bitch she was.

She had to earn her way back into being his good, obedient little dove, on days like these.

But after these days would pass and she would indeed realign with his expectations, he would reward her greatly.

Never like this, though.

Y/n is brought to the present again as another flash of light from the paparazzi snaps her out of her daze. As the spots begin to fade from her vision, she sees Keigo in front of her adorning his trademark “for the fans-only” grin, although Y/n would call it a sleazy smile, the same smile he would give her before he signaled his feathers to cut deep into her feet so she’d stop kicking at him as he dragged her on the floor and feels him squeeze her hand a little too tightly to be dubbed as endearing.

“Stop zoning out on me, you look like a ditz”, he hisses through his teeth, his grin now resembling more of a bared-teeth look.

She tries to try to fix her face and pull the corners of her mouth up, attempting to also brighten her eyes and looking interested at the blond interviewer who was now conversing with Hawks about his recent team-up with Endeavor. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to not shove past the phony smiles and flashy attire enveloping her and waltz down the red carpet to the doors of the gala. She thinks if she hears him utter another word about how he’s so incredibly blessed to have the love and support of my fans, family, and most importantly, my girlfriend who has stuck by my side through thick and thin, she’ll puke on the bedazzled yellow dress the interviewer has on.

As if. He’d probably whisk her off to the nearest bathroom and pummel her on the floor right then and there just for being distracted, but not before fucking her as well.

She feels Hawks nudge her side, and on cue she darts her head up and really plasters on a blinding smile as she focuses on the question that was just asked to her.

“Sorry, what was that? I think I got distracted by your outfit, you look lovely tonight, an absolute catch.” She winks for good measure, just to salvage the damage of ignoring the conversation and Keigo’s tight-lipped smile, which was beginning to soften.

Bingo.

“Oh you’re so sweet! I can see why Mr. Number Two here swooped in to take such a cutie like yourself.” The interviewer giggled, twirling a golden lock around her finger. “But no worries, I was just saying you should come make a public appearance more often! I mean, the media barely gets to see you with Hawks intimately, it would be a great excuse to get all glammed-up as well...I mean, if Hawks here hasn’t got his talons sunk too deep into you.” She laughs shrilly and doesn’t notice how both Y/n and Keigo tense up at her insinuation.

Yeah lady, you’re not too far from the truth. The last time I tried to look nice and go outside, I was bedridden for a week and a half while nursing frozen peas over 7 different parts of my body, inside and out.

But if Keigo can bullshit more than he can tell the truth, then so could she.

She laughs warmly and places her hand on his shoulder lightly, just to sell the “supportive girlfriend” look.

“Well, I really would love to come out and show my support for him more often, but we’ve both agreed that with all the publicity anyways, it’s just too much pressure for me to deal with. I’d rather just stick with what I know and keep it hush between him and I.” She turns her gaze to Keigo now, superficially giving him a puppy-in-love look but discreetly seeking his approval if what she said was the correct thing or not.

He merely gave her an amused smile, as if to say damn, wasn’t expecting that answer but I guess it’s fine. Yeah. Two can play at that game.

Pleased with her answer, the blond bimbo turns on her heel and sashays away, leaving the couple by themselves.

Keigo gives Y/n a side eye and cautiously holds out his elbow for her to take. A peace offering for the meantime, just to reward her for the quick save.

Don’t fuck this up for me, or you’ll regret it tenfold when we get back home.

“Shall we?” He waits for her to oblige, and of course she does.

Arm-in arm, they gracefully walk down the red carpet towards the gold plated doors. Upon entering, Y/n’s breath is taken away at the grand hall, with red banners hanging from the balconies that had navy blue and gold words of praise for the heroes engraved in the silk. Hundreds of pro heroes filled the room, much more than what she was used to from only interacting with her captor for months.

Guiding her over to the long granite bar, Keigo squeezes her arm before lightly dropping it. Before she can move, he stands directly in front of her and his vermillion wings unfurl and slightly surround the two of them, creating their own little space. To others, it might’ve just looked like two lovers embracing each other and having their own little moment. Y/N knew better, however, and suspected he had ulterior motives.

She was right.

“I’m gonna leave you here for a few minutes, ‘kay? I don’t want you moving from here,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and she had to suppress a shudder at his unwanted proximity. “The feather stays on, and I better not see or hear anything funny while I’m away.”

She nodded and touched her necklace that was indeed laced with one of his feathers, remembering the deal he made when he agreed to let you out for the day.

Ah yes, the dreaded feather.

When she had approached him on shaking legs two days prior, Hawks was brushing his hair in the bathroom, keen on meticulously keeping it styled and ruffed up in the morning. It was one of the things that Y/N would begrudgingly say was one of his finest features, along with his natural eyeliner-shaped markings and rugged yet handsome facial features.

On good days, she liked to lightly trace her fingers and across his sharp jawline and feel the stubble growing on his blushed face. She’d try to stop immediately however, when he’d open his eyes and catch her hand, moving it across his body much to her chagrin and down to his-

She had stood outside the door, fumbling with the hem of her thin nightie and desperately trying to pull the short material past her bare thighs as she mustered up the courage to bring up her proposition.

Keigo slowly ceased his brushing when he saw the meek little thing quivering outside his door, and he quirked up an amused eyebrow. He braced both arms on either side of the sink, and let out a light exhale, before addressing her.

“Something wrong hummingbird?”

She dragged her eyes from the floor up to his dilated golden irises, and blurted out what she had been rehearsing in her head for the past couple of days:

“DoyouthinkIcouldcomewithyoutothegala?”

“Huh?” he snickered, thoroughly bewildered by what incomprehensible nonsense she had stuttered out.

Y/N bit her lip and took in a shaky breath, strike one, she fumbled her first try.

“Haw- uh, Keigo,” she corrected quickly. He preferred her using his first name, his real name. He claimed it made things more intimate between them as if carving his name on her back hadn't been enough to seal their “intimacy’-she didn’t need to be told twice what to call him by after that day “I was wondering...if I’m good and I don’t give you a hard time, can I come with you to the hero's gala?”

Keigo’s brow furrowed slightly, and he cocked his head to the side like a real bird. He seemed to be contemplating it.

“Alright,” he conceded after a couple seconds. “If, and I mean if you listen to me and don’t try any funny business while we’re there I’ll let you tag along.”

Y/N darted her eyes up to him, hope swimming in her heart.

“But you have to wear the feather.”

She immediately blanched.

A major inconvenience that she had come to terms with in the duration of her stay with him had been his stupid fucking feathers that layed oh-so-casually around the floor where she walked and coincidentally clinging to her clothes wherever she went out of Keigo’s eyesight, even though she was trapped on the same floor with him.

They had special properties; they could detect any movement, sense any vibration whenever he called for it. This made for a perfect tracker for Y/N in terms of whenever he wanted an update on her heartbeat, her mood, her whereabouts, and anything in between.

Yes, it was suffocating. But she would much rather it only be a suffocating feeling rather than him actually directing hundreds of feathers to surround her and hold her down on the bed or floor to do whatever he wanted with her in any position he pleased.

She didn’t dare complain to his face, however. She’d grit her teeth, grin and bear it, listen to every whim he demanded of her if it meant one night of superficial normalcy.

And so she put on her best behavior on the days leading up to the main event. She made dozens of dishes that circulated around chicken (his favorite binge food), she let them have “cuddle time”, with no complaints whatsoever when he insisted on bathing her and dressing her up in stupid pink frilly skirts, and she even gave him little subtle looks with a batting of her eyelashes when he looked down fondly at her good mannerisms and praised her for being such a sweet little birdie.

Eventually, her acting paid off and on the morning of the gala she was merited with a silk red dress that stopped at her upper thigh, ornamented with gold earrings and a 12K necklace to really sell off the look-which was of course wrapped around one of his feathers. Hawks had even hired a makeup artist who was instructed to not ask or say anything to Y/N save for questions about the products, much to her pleasant surprise.

She was still reminded of how much she had to grovel for him every time he rewarded her that afternoon.

“You look stunning, chickadee,” Keigo leaned against the dresser with his arms crossed, and smiled warmly at Y/N. “You’re making her look like a real model, maybe she should take over my job instead. Or, actually, maybe you could stop by my agency and make me all pretty for my next photoshoot.” He directed this last tease at the makeup artist and winked, causing the oblivious employee to giggle and blush.

Ugh, barf. He’s even a sleaze when I’m right here.

Y/N feigned a roll of her eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed by the hero. She could feel his dilated eyes boring into her the rest of the 15 minutes of touch-ups. Eventually everything was done, and Hawks left praise after shameless praise fall from his lips and onto the poor fangirl’s heart as he guided her out the door, a hand on her lower back as he did so.

She took the opportunity to get up and walk to the full-length mirror, admiring how she looked for the first time in ages. Gone were the multi-colored marks that decorated her body as if she were nothing more than a mere canvas for her painter to use. Her eyes seemed a little brighter too, and it wasn’t just the makeup that caused it. She stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up more than before while she stared at her reflection. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror, and she liked it for once.

It was ridiculous, she knew it was to feel so vain but she couldn’t help but bask in her potential freedom for just one night. She looked gorgeous, she felt confident, and she had earned it all on her own.

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to practice a couple smiles to be camera-ready for when the time came. She turned the corners of her lips up, then showed her teeth, and even tried fluffing her hair up sensually. Biting her lip slightly, she threw her head back, causing her curled locks to bounce and lowered her eyelids to look sexy. She giggled at her own stupidity and poses, completely unaware that a certain winged-man had entered the room and leaned against the door for the past couple of minutes, simply watching the little show she put on.

“That's quite a look you’ve got there hun, why don’t you make those faces more often with me?”

She immediately froze, her breath hitching. She didn’t dare look at him in the eye from the mirror.

“I mean, I’m the only one who should be seeing such a slutty expression anyways, right?” He said ever-so casually, hands in his pockets as he slowly strolled up behind her, and she couldn’t help but think as her eyes darted up to meet him in the mirror that the sadistic shit-eating grin on his face didn’t suit so well with his god-like features.

She visibly wilted, her shoulders hunched and head down in contrast to the tall, powerful woman she had felt like mere seconds ago. Her breath quickened as he leaned over her shoulder, grazing his teeth over the sensitive part under her ear, and she bit her lip harshly to stop the squeak that threatened to escape her trembling lips.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some makeup would make you act like a wanton little whore, I would’ve done this wayyy sooner. I guess you really are just another dumb bimbo bitch who does anything she’s told if she gets to feel important for a night.” He whispered in her ear, resting his head on her shoulder and looking up at her with innocent eyes, ones that imitated the mocking tone of voice he used.

It seemed like he wanted her to feel disgusting, to wilt under his cruel words that he used like knives-knives that were sharpened with his tone and body language, knives that were so intimately and carefully chosen. They worded so that they were used to their full extent to cut and carve through her heart.

“Is that what you are my little songbird, hmm? You wanna be a pretty baby and have everyone’s attention on you? I’m hurt, here I was thinking I was enough for you.” He pouted, and with every word he spoke the grip his hands had around her waist tightened.

She tried to protest but he plowed through her pitiful attempts.

“Hell, if you want some attention so bad and whore yourself out, I should call over some friends! Yeah, we can skip tonight’s gala, would you like that songbird? For me to share you with my friends so they can satiate your whorish needs?” And at his he shook her lightly, his grip around her middle choking her and cutting off her circulation. “N-no, Hawks,” she wheezed out. “I just... liked my makeup, that’s it. I only want you, I promise. I won’t cause any trouble tonight, please don’t call any friends over.”

She looked up at him in the mirror with eyes the size of saucers, blinking away tears and trying her best to show how apologetic she was at her audacity to feel good about herself.

He loosened his arms and straightened up, peering down at her disgustedly. He had absolutely no regrets about the way she sucked in air immediately when he relented, or about the way she frantically brushed the tears from her eyes, trying to preserve her mascara from running. (not that he would’ve minded). She needed to learn her lesson; he controlled her highs and lows. Only he had the permission of holding her fragile emotions in the palm of his hand, and if she didn't want that palm turning into a fist and breaking her, she would do well not to piss him off and treading carefully about flaunting what was meant for his eyes only.

She wanted to lock herself in the bathroom and cry out to her heart's content from being embarrassed and degraded like this. She kept absolutely still however, when she felt his hands lightly tracing the feather on her collarbones. It was an unspoken threat, and when their eyes met once again in the mirror, the way he sized her up confirmed it.

The feather stayed on.

Which brought her back to the present.

Y/N had already downed 3 glasses of champagne while reminiscing about earlier today, something Hawks would’ve surely tutted at. Finding herself bored, she meandered around the bar, keeping close to where he left her.

She scanned the room for her ‘lover’ and found him laughing with a group of his friends, his head thrown back and the charming sound of his deep yet lilted voice carrying through the hall, entrapping anyone who was around.

He certainly had presence, no sense in denying it.

Any girl would’ve been crazy to deny him, and Y/N wished that Hawks had fallen for a girl that didn’t want to deny him out of his hundreds of fangirls a point that was set in stone in Y/N’s mind when she saw a tall brunette clinging to his arm while she shrieked with laughter at whatever stupid story Hawks was telling.

Said fangirl seemed to also have been put under his contagious spell, from the way she so obviously threw herself on his arm and pushed her chest against his side under the pretense of shaking with laughter. Various other parts of her body seemed to be shaking against him too, but he didn’t seem to mind based on the smirk he quickly looked down at her with.

For the second time that night, Y/N wanted to throw up.

Was it jealousy? Negative. Rather, it was frustration that he literally had girls throwing themselves at him, tits hanging out and all but yet he wanted what he knew he couldn’t have. She assumed that it was this mentality of his that landed him at being Number 2, chasing after the seemingly impossible until it was tangible.

It was easier on some days to try to understand his point of view. It was much better than getting lost in the hours pondering what kind of bad karma she inherited from a past life to go through this hell. But on some mornings when she felt stone-cold sober, she remembered that she was a person, not some objective or conquest that he had rightfully won. Deciding to try and take her mind off from the trainwreck that was unfolding in front of her, Y/N aimlessly wandered to the side of the bar and down a grand hallway that was less crowded and had less Hawks.

On either side of the hall, giant bronze frames held the portraits of past heroes and had little scriptures of their accomplishments. Hawks had always talked about how he wanted his name up there, and how one day he was going to do something incredible to have his own face up on the hall of fame. His idol, Endeavor, already has taken place on the wall right next to All Might’s frame, and Y/N looks up and ponders at both of their pictures.

And how befitting is it, that Hawk’s idol is also accused of a sinister and tumultuous family past.

Maybe he doesn’t need to work too hard to follow in the footsteps of the number one hero.

“Quite the hero, Endeavor is. Even though there is controversy about the nature of his past and his redemption efforts, he set many precedents as to how a true hero should act.” Y/N’s head snaps to the right where Edgeshot had just joined her. He wore a navy blue tux with red seams, his trademark mask covering the lower half of his face.

“Yeah, you’d think his admirers would try to follow in the footsteps of changing themselves too,” she muttered bitterly. “I’ve noticed his biggest fans seem to take after his more...old brutish traits rather than the better person he’s trying to be now.”

The masked hero laughed softly, and Y/N looked at him suspiciously.

“What, you don’t think heroes have their own fair share of flaws?” She challenged.

“No no, don’t get me wrong of course. I would be on an inappropriate level of naivety to assume that, considering I’m a part of the whole corrupt system itself. I think, however, that change within a person comes after an extended time of self-reflection. You have to look within yourself and accept that you were wrong in the first place, if you want to change.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment.

“Do you think the villains are ever right? About society brushing the flipside of heroism under the carpet, I mean. It doesn’t matter if the heroes are trying to save people because it's expected of them, if they aren’t actually compassionate about their cause then is there really a point?” She asked desperately, hoping he could understand her.

Edgeshot hesitated for a moment before answering.

“In my years of experience,” he said quietly, still looking up at Endeavor’s painting, “the ones who have at heart a solid reason for acting the way they do are most always justified. It may not always be a good reason, but a foundation always gives way to a justification that can be argued for.”

All of a sudden, Y/N gasped as white hot pain sliced through her sternum. She looked down and saw the red feather on her necklace quivering as a fine line of red sprouted from the cut it made.

“Are you alright?” Edgeshot asked, looking fairly alarmed, his hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Yes, of course! My necklace is just a little sharp, a little edge just nicked me that's all.” She said shrilly, already backing away from the concerned hero. Turning on her heel, she picked up the hem of her dress and tottered out of the hall, not paying any mind to the vermillion plumage that drifted down her chest, past her waist and eventually clinging onto her leg, making little nips and stabs here and there.

Blood was pounding through her head as she navigated the way back to where Hawks had left her to be. Her palms were sweaty and she was sure her hair was becoming messy as she whipped her head around, attempting to look past tall heads and bodies that blocked her way to the bar.

Shitshitshitshit god please don’t let him be there already please please please-

But it seemed as though god wasn’t in a merciful mood, because lo and behold, the raptor was leaning against the long granite island with a glass in his hand.

He seemed to be casually grinning, swirling a maroon substance in his cup and choking it down leisurely, but as Y/N drew closer she knew-as expected- he seemed off.

The smell of alcohol was nauseating around him, he must have been drinking something strong. His wings, although lightly flapping behind him, were pointed at the edges and shaking lightly. His eyes were completely dilated, and were shifting around the room until they settled on her meek figure rushing up to him.

“Hey there birdy, long time no see. Did you have a good chat with Edgeshot? I’m sure you both enjoyed talking shit about me behind my back.” Y/N winced at how charismatic and booming his laugh was after his ominous remark. It was too carefree, a complete cover-up of how she knew he was actually feeling, and that scared her the most.

“Hawks I-”

“Keigo, sweetheart, did you forget my name already after talking with just one person? Damn, I’m hurt, guess keeping you locked up at home was the right decision after all if you’re acting like such a stone-cold bitch now.”

She stared up at him, openmouthed and thoroughly panicked now. He was talking too much, he was going to expose himself and her-

Wait. Why is she covering for him? Wouldn’t it be better if he blabbed everything else so people could realize what he’s doing? Maybe someone would intervene and save her!

But it seemed like he was three steps ahead of her and had already figured that out, because his face flushed slightly and his eyes darkened and narrowed, with lips set in a flat line. When Y/N saw this change, she tried to back away but he quickly grabbed her hand and yanked her out the room and through the exit doors. It was all happening so fast, she could hear various people call out to Hawks but he plowed through them so fast that she didn’t have time to even process that they were out of the building and in the air.

She screamed as he soared to an even higher altitude, clinging onto his neck for dear life. The wind whipped past her face, stinging her cheeks with the frigid cold and water particles that embedded on her lashes. Hawks was laughing hysterically the entire time he gained height, his talons ripping through her dress and piercing her skin, even overlapping the previous cuts his feather had made earlier.

“S-stop, what’re you doing, are you fucking crazy?” She shrieked, her words losing volume as the air was ripped out of her lungs.

“KEIGO, its KEIGO you stupid fucking cunt!” he screamed in her face. His arms loosened around her waist, and suddenly Y/N was falling, falling, falling straight for the asphalt.

She couldn’t even turn her head as her limp body plummeted down for imminent death. Her lungs begged for oxygen, fear settling like lead in her stomach, but the second she closed her eyes for what she thought was the last time, (Hawks) Keigo swooped down and yanked her back into his sinister embrace by her hair.

Ignoring the ripping strands she felt in her skull, she flailed around in midair trying to grab onto something-she reached up to grab his foot but he noticed and kicked her square in the face. Y/N had never before felt such terror and pain, mentally or physically.

Damn her pride, she wants to live for god's sake.

“Keigo,” she sobbed, remembering just in time to use his real name lest he smash her teeth in again, “please put me down, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I talked to Edgeshot but I swear it wasn’t anything bad or about you.” The warm blood streaming down her nose began to harden on her upper lip from the chilly altitude they had reached.

Abruptly, he shifted his grip and pulled her up by her hair (she winced at that painful adjustment) so that he could hold her around her waist now.

They had to have been at least 200 or so feet in the air. The pair had cleared their way through some clouds and could clearly see the full moon right in front of them. It was deathly quiet except for Y/N’s labored breathing through her fractured nose, and her fear racked even further as she looked up at Hawks and realized that he was simply staring down at her with completely dilated eyes that narrowed and gleamed at her expression. He truly looked like a bird of prey right now, a predator that was forcing her to play the part of his prey, a point that solidified when he suddenly wrapped one hand around her throat to feel her heartbeat that thumped like a rabbits’.

The light from the moon reflected off his back, causing his front to be completely shadowed so that the contours of his sharp face seemed ever more looming and dangerous. Both of them stayed suspended in the air for a minute or two like that, Y/N not daring to speak unless he granted her a sign to repent.

After a long, painstakingly suspenseful minute of studying her face, he finally growled “We’re going home.”

It seemed to take only a mere couple of minutes for the Number Two hero to travel halfway across the city. Y/N barely had time to try and drink in the beautiful colors that accented the winding streets and buildings below her, knowing that it would most probably be a long time before she saw anything else that resembled freedom again.

He finally began to descend rapidly, forcing her to cling onto his jacket and shove her face into the crook of his neck to avoid getting whiplash. Peeking through her lashes, she recognized the balcony floor of his penthouse rushing underneath their feet. Dread and anxiety surged through her veins as he finally landed and postiviley threw her off of him and onto the wooden floor. She slid a good couple of feet and skinned her legs in the process, unable to stop her momentum as she slammed back into a lamp.

Dazed, she saw stars as she rubbed her aching head. Unfortunately she didn’t see him, rushing over to her the second she landed.

He grabbed her jaw tight and wrenched her bleary eyes to look up at him.

What he saw was beautiful.

A trembling mess beneath him, makeup runny and complemented with blood that flowed from her nose like an eternal stream. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way she kept flinching any time he shifted; it made his pants tighten and caused his teeth to grit in what he measured to be the absolute last bits of self restraint he had for the night. He had truly ruined her, and he internally patted himself on the back at his work.

Was he mad? Yes, wholly and completely at her betrayal of his orders.

Did he regret losing his temper? Absolutely not. In fact, if you ask him, he should get mad at her more often like this. If it merited her pliant and vulnerable being, then who was he to deny such pleasure? Fuck he should’ve done this from the start- blowing up at mild disobediance instead of acting like a doting, patient boyfriend.

“You alive?” he roughly shook her head and her teeth chattered inside her skull while he did so.

“Yes,” she whispered, mouth popped open by his gloved fingers as he shoved a digit inside her warm and wet cavern. It was embarrassing how drool seeped through her lips and dribbled down her chin, but humility was the least concerning factor in her environment at the moment.

“Good. After acting like such a tramp you better fucking be. I told you one thing,” and he slapped her for added emphasis to his frustration, “can you repeat what I told you? Or are you so braindead that you can’t remember the one order I gave you when I trusted you to sit still and look pretty like a good little bitch?”

“Nnngh, no I rem-I remember.” Y/N panted out, attempting to talk through puckered lips and drool. “You told me to stay at the bar and not to move.”

“Exactly. So what part of that was so hard to understand, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, looking deranged.

“I just got bored, that’s all. I wanted to talk to another person…” Even though she didn’t finish her sentence, Hawks understood her perfectly.

I wanted to talk to another person apart from you.

He let out a mocking laugh, stretching his arms over his head to hide his shaking fists. Rage swept through his body like wildfire, licking up his throat and cheeks. His face was flushed and unreadable to Y/N as he sauntered around the couch and plopped down on it, spreading his legs to seem as uncouth as possible.

She sat shivering on the floor, unsure of if he wanted her to follow him or wither away on the floor like a mutt.

As he sighed loudly however, her body immediately tensed as though bracing for another painful impact. She daringly peeked over her shoulder and saw the back of his head protruding from the black and red leather couch. Lazily flicking his wrist up to a height where she could see, he vaguely beckoned her over without saying a word.

Immediately she scampered over to him and situated herself at his feet (where she belonged). Her eyes were downcast, and he begrudgingly accepted it as a form of submission on her part. No sense in beating the disobedience out of her now if she already knows what she did wrong.

Hawks heaved out another heavy sigh and let his head fall backwards. On one hand, he was slightly drunk and his head was killing him-he just wanted to go to sleep and forget today ever happened. However, there was a problem that was contributing to his growing migraine, and that problem was sitting right in front of him, practically kneeling at his feet for mercy. More than sleep, he wanted to take care of said issue and call it a night, so he decided to skip the sweet talk and warm up.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, kid. I’m gonna close my eyes and by the time I open them you better have already thought of a way to make tonight up to me, and you better have already put that plan in action. Then, we’re going to bed and when you wake up you’ll regret the day you even thought of talking to anyone apart from me, since you seem to have forgotten who’s been coddling your ass all this time.” He sneered, relishing at the way Y/N’s face went pale.

True to his word, he closed his eyes, glad to see his last view as the pathetic bitch who was about to service him. The feel of slight fumbling on his zipper made him feel even more drunk and giddy as it was pulled down. Maybe the entire evening wasn’t a complete wash after all.

Yeah, he should take her out a lot more.