#(time to pretend she's repairing the roof)

[sonusresonet]

@sanctissimx sent: "could just be good luck, but sooner or later it's bound to run out." / BALDUR'S GATE 3 SENTENCES

♛;

"..." She remains quiet for a moment, gold eyes drifting to the entrance of the Inn in question. Luck should always be expected but not relied on in her experience--after all, it also played a prominent role on the battlefield. Despite that thought, there was also the need to make your own luck whether it be a simple fire starting somewhere to draw attention away or 'wandering' into the wrong room as you take on the role of a drunk fool.

"You said the scorpions have a nest here, correct?" She finally says, standing back straight as her eyes scale the two story inn. It had balconies and would be easy to climb up with her skills and night drawing close, she doubted anyone would be looking upward if she approached under the cover of darkness alongside the alleyway next to it. The hot summer's day has made everyone open their balconies and it would most likely stay open in a small room full of the sun's residual heat.

The left building would provide her more cover and room to navigate. Scattered men and women had arrived so there wasn't an actual count of how many were from the group the Commander General was warned about but there was no doubt more than the 4 people they originally had been given.

"This type of intel will work in your favor. So, would you like me to demonstrate some of my abilities tonight, Commander General?" Yin muses as she lets her sword lean against the wall next to him. He was still in charge of her for now and she wasn't one to break the chain of command. "I can get the headcount for you and the faces if you trust me for the hour."

[dancingtotuyo]

All Farms…

Javier Peña

Summary: Javier has to decide what to do with the ranch

Warnings/Tags: grief, loss, hurt (no comfort?), ranch/farm used interchangeably here.

Notes: I started this on Christmas after walking my grandparents farm which happens to be the same farm I lived on for the first 7 years of my life. My grandparents are getting older which has sparked a lot of conversation with what will happen to the farm when they're gone. Fast forward to now, I'm currently processing a lot of feelings this Easter weekend. I lost my step dad last year. He was a farmer too. After his cancer diagnosis, all of us kids (there are ALOT of us) came home for Easter. It was the last time I saw him look like himself and the last time we were all together before he died. In my processing, I started working on this piece again. It's one of those things I need to put out into the world for me. I hope for anyone else going through something similar, it brings you comfort or makes you feel not quite so alone.

Peep the cow picture. I took that one myself at Christmas :)

Words: 966

Author Master List

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. Typically along a ridge or tree line, piled-up equipment that was never sold or broken beyond repair sits in overgrown piles and sunken earth. The old family car. The beat-up sports car or pickup truck each son or sometimes daughter inevitably thought they could fix only to spend hundreds of fruitless hours with one glory ride before it went haywire. Scrap metal torn from barn roofs pile up. Every tire imaginable is half buried in the earth. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. The moment you do, you’ll find use or need for the items thrown out. 

The Peńa’s graveyard sits between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill. Javier rarely makes his way to that side of the farm. They don’t use that space for cattle since his dad downsized the herd. He pretends there’s no reason for it, but it’s more than just broken down cars and scrap piles to Javier. It’s a ghost town of memories. 

There’s his mom’s ‘62 Ford. The one she drove his whole childhood. The vehicle that took them across town, to Sunday services, and hosted their many road trips. It’s where his Mom feels most tangible, her soft voice playing in his head singing to the radio. 

His first truck. The one he’d spent months fixing up, he kissed Sally Jones on a Saturday night and done much more with Vanessa Reyes. He’s proposed to Lorraine in that truck, driven past the church in it too. 

Chucho’s first American Harvester sits further back. His dad is so proud of that machine… or he was. 

The ache grows in Javier’s chest as he stands at the edge of the graveyard. He begged Chucho for years to clean this up. His dad always waved him off, stating that he would get to it someday. Except, Chucho didn’t make it to someday, and now it is Javier’s responsibility.  

His fingers twitch, desperate for the feel of a cigarette between them. Nicorette gum sits in his breast pocket instead. He’s working to quit again, picking the worst damn time to do it, but that’s life. 

He should probably bring the tractor down to pull everything out. It’s overwhelming with no good place to start. Digging around down there will only dig up the memories. Javier can’t deal with the memories right now, so he leaves the project for another day. He only needs to clean it up if he decides to sell the ranch. 

The house is quiet when he walks through the door. Javier is used to the subtle sounds of life- the coffee pot going, the tv running on low, Chucho’s boots on the linoleum, but it never comes. It won’t ever come again. 

Javier kicks off his boots, lining them right next to his dad’s. He hasn’t moved them. He’s not sure he will. 

He heads for the back of the house toward his room but stops at his Dad’s door. It’s shut tight as he places a hand on the wood. Javier hasn’t gone in there since picking out clothes. It’s a strange thing to pick out clothes for a dead man. How does one pick out what someone will wear for the rest of eternity? 

His hand lands on the knob, and it gives way with a squeak. The same squeak that used to echo down the hall, waking Javier up before the sun to let him know it was time for chores. Javier is flooded with the comforting scent of his father. It envelopes him, pulling tears into his eyes immediately. The bed is fixed just as Chucho had left it before he went out and started the chores just as he always did. Except that day, almost a month ago now, Chucho Peña didn’t return to the house. 

He collapsed in the field. He was already gone when Javier found him. He died alone and that hurt almost as much as the fact that he was gone. 

A thin layer of dust covers the surfaces in the room. He should clean it, but would it lose its smell then? In here, Javier feels surrounded by his father. The closest he can get to him. His room, the one he shared with Javier’s mother, is perfectly preserved. 

Javier dares to ease onto the bed and look at the world from Chucho’s perspective every day as he woke up. On the dresser, there’s a photo of his parents when they first started dating, and one from Javier’s high school graduation. On the bedside table, there’s a book with a bookmark halfway through, a picture from his parent’s wedding day, and another of Chucho on the tractor with Javier in his lap. He couldn’t have been older than two at the time. Javier traces it with his finger, wishes he could remember that moment, wishes he could go back in time and relive it all, even the bad days, and treasure it all, ask his dad more questions, called him more often.

Javier lays down on his parents' bed. Chucho’s scent is thicker here with Javier’s head on his pillow. Big, hot tears fall from the corners of his eyes dampening the pillow. He rests his hands over his chest, letting his eyes close. Javier can hear his voice now, his laughter, catches a hint of his mother’s as well. It’s Javier’s job to carry on their legacy.

All farms have a graveyard. One of lost memories and stories. No farmer dares to clean out the graveyard. When a tractor kicks the dust or that farm use pickup can only be stripped for parts, Javier follows in his father’s footsteps. He lays them to rest between scattered trees at the bottom of the hill.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Witch hunt

Daryl Dixon x reader

Thanks to an emotional slip-up you almost risk your home in Alexandria

🐺 🐺 🐺

Rose was born four years ago.

Alexandria was thriving and had slowly begun to accept your daughter being a part of the group.

You were pregnant with Daryl's child when you came in with the group, but when she was born it was clear she wasn't human. She had inherited Daryl's curse and was born in her shifted form that she kept for the first few months.

You had kept your personal relationships quiet until you all felt comfortable enough but when the community learned the truth about your daughter you and Daryl agreed to never speak of your relationship and pretend to just be close friends.

Carol had taken up most of the co-parenting tasks in public and making sure to pass by wherever Daryl was working repairs and enforcements so he could say Hi to his 'baby niece'.

There had been a large disagreement about wether to let you and your daughter stay, but the ones wanting you both gone lost against your support party's arguments.

Rose had been fussy all morning. She had tried to steal the leftover meat from the fridge, complained her tummy hurt and whined about her head being loud.

You made sure she ate and drank properly, asked about her head and tummy. Trying your best to get a useful answer out of her but you couldn't seem to ask the right questions.

You guessed the hurt was just a stomach bug and the loud head was something resembling your active mind when you were uncomfortable, but the last hour she had started crying and whining out loud. Her whines were close to those of a hurt animal and it scared you more than any shrieking human wail she ever let out.

Picking her up and getting her noises down to sobs and hiccups you were close to tears yourself as you got to the new lot Daryl was building on with a team.

Daryl had sensed you coming from a distance and made his way off the roof in progress to meet you down on the street.

"Yo Dixon!" A voice called from up on the structure. "Who said you could take a break yet?"

Daryl called back a quick excuse and turning his attention back to you. He had noticed both your discomfort and took Rose from your arms as you ran him through your morning.

"Dixon!" The man called again. "How about you stick to women your own age."

"Shut it! She needs help." He had no time for bullshit.

A shaky breath left your lips when you continued. "My baby's sick and I don't know what to do." Sniffling you went on and a hand reached for your arm and squeezed softly. "I don't even know how to be a good mom I don't want her to be hurt.." with his one available arm he pulled you into a half hug, still holding sniffling Rose in his other arm.

"Come on, man! Quit flirting with the girl, she won't fuck you." You could feel Daryl's quiet growl rumbling in his chest. "Besides, you shouldn't stick your dick in crazy anyways. Her and that monster kid shouldn't even be here!"

Something inside you snapped right then and there, stepping out of Daryl's embrace and facing the man on the roof.

"Go the fuck back to work and let him deal with his sick child for a moment you useless piece of walker bait!" Tears were streaming down your face as panic set in. Ugly sobs escaping your lips as Daryl stood behind you, frozen with a now again crying child in his arms.

The man stopped all of his activities and stomped down to you.

"I'm sorry, his kid? I thought your monster brat didn't have a daddy and now you're calling Dixon its father?" He was all up in your face now and you recognized him as one of the people voting the loudest to kick you and your daughter out after learning she wasn't human. “So it turns out Crazy,” he called out for everyone around to hear. “-has a thing for older men. And dogs.”

He got real close to you for this last bit. “Did he fuck you as a dog, too?”

You now stood face to face with the man and were fuming with rage. He was clearly waiting for you to talk yourself out of the slip-up you just screamed at him and in turn gaining the attention of many bystanders who heard it all too.

Instead of answering you took a deep breath in and head-butted him. You could feel his nose crack under the impact and heard it crunch before he fell to the asphalt. On your turn to leave you looked back down at him and spat to add to the humiliation. You wanted to scream and curse at the man, but a large hand stopped you and pulled you away.

"We're going home. Now." He wasn't angry with you but he also didn't want to cause more trouble than already formed and Rose kept fussing so he just wanted to go and lock his family inside the walls of his home and calm down. Someone was gonna be knocking on their door about this later anyways.

The haunting stares of all bystanders felt like burning holes in your skin the whole way back to your home.

When all three of you passed the front door Daryl took no time locking it behind him and moving over to the living room to close the curtains.

He had placed Rose on the couch so his hands were free to grab you and place you next to her.

Rose had been fussing and crying so much she had tired herself out and had fallen asleep in Daryl's arms close to home. She still stirred every once in a while, small whines leaving her and a frown on her sleeping face.

Daryl softly stroked her head as he looked her over, seeing if he could sense something from his daughter and quickly found the issue.

When he sat up you immediately swarmed him with questions.

"She aint sick. She's just changin'. Hurts real bad the first time." He kept softly caressing her as he sat himself between you two. "We can't do much except make sure she's comfortable."

You sighed at the less than good news of not being able to help her. "How do I make sure she's good? Do we build her a nest?" An arm snaked around you and you were pulled to lay in Daryl's lap. "Just feed her enough n' giver her lil' rubs like ya give me after a long workday. Helps her hurt muscles." His hand moves over to rub comforting circles on your lower back. "Yer doin' great, momma. Ya were really hot defendin' us out there an' crackin' tha guy's face open."

You scooted over and rolled onto your back to look him in the eyes. "Really? I kinda regretted making an even bigger scene.." Your not so little outburst really didn’t help your already looked down upon status in the community. Daryl’s hand moved to your cheek and he smiled down at you. “Believe me, if ya let me I’d have another kid with ya without thinkin’ twice after what ya did for us today.” You looked up at him, hoping he’d continue his sweet words. “Yer always callin’ me yer guard dog but yer the one who’s protected me in here since day one.” Your hands reached up to hook around his neck so you could kiss him properly, showing him how much his words meant to you. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to say no to that, but we really have to get through this shit first before we can even have that conversation, don’t you think?”

The argument was agreed with and quickly dropped so you could focus on the closer issue of lying to the entire community and injuring someone in the middle of the street.

When the first knock on your front door came you jumped up in panic, sending Daryl a fearful look before going to see who it was.

Rick, Carol and Deanna stood at your front door, with a group of angry residents further off on the streets, no doubt ordered to stay back by Deanna herself.

You grounded yourself with some deep breaths before unlocking the door and allowing the people in.

Carol was quick to pull you into a hug as she saw you shaking and guided you back to the living room with the other two right behind you.

Rick was quick to put a hand in front of Deanna to stop her from getting too close to Daryl and Rose, knowing although he wasn’t a threat but he could still easily snap when threatened. She shot him an offended glance but had to remind herself she was in unknown territory and the two who accompanied her were familiar with the issue at hand.

“I believe you already know why we’re here, so we can go straight to the point.” Deanna had her stern leader voice on, but Daryl could feel her uncertain energy and decided to call her out on it. “Ya aint got no point so why’re ya really here, huh? To please tha’ crowd out there?” Deanna stood there in the middle of your living room, not knowing what to say. “The people want you gone. The ones that wanted the child gone back then are back to almost rioting about this issue. Now that they learned you have been lying for so long there’s nothing I can do to stop them..” She sounded sad, like the words were forced out of her and truly they were. She knew no matter what she’d say to the angry crowd of people, they weren’t gonna listen.

“And what do you want? Just you. Not them.” Your question surprised everyone in the room and Deanna had to give it a short moment before she found the right words.

“You’re different, but no threat.” She gave you the kindest smile she could pull, but was met with your unamused look in return. “Don’t try to sweet talk me, I’m the human one here.my partner and our daughter are the ones your people are threatened by.” You stepped closer to her only to be held back by Rick so you didn’t have the option to repeat this morning’s actions. “We’ve been living by your rules since day one.” You snapped at her. ��We had to fake our entire lives to make sure you would let us stay. So we wouldn’t be judged for our odd relationship. Yeah it sucks Rose was born the way she was and risked everything going to shit but if she was born human no one would have known so where the fuck is the problem?”

This time it was Rick who chimed in with some supporting words.

“She’s right. Daryl’s been part of our family ever since we met him years ago. He’s always been protective of us and never threatened to hurt anyone.” He gave his brother an apologetic look, letting him know he wished it never had to come to this. “And quite frankly I don’t think these people have a say all of this.

Deanna took an instinctive look at the covered front window, as if to read the thoughts of the people waiting for an answer outside.

She was taken off guard when Rose stirred and started crying as she woke up, kicking everyone except her in gear, dropping the entire situation and moving to tend to the child. Daryl picked her up as you were at their side in a second. Carol moved to the kitchen and called over if you had any food prepared for her, fishing it out of the fridge and heating it. Rick stood by, ready to take over anyone’s task if needed.

Deanna watched the scene in front of her, seeing a caring side of Daryl she hadn’t seen before. He sat with the child in his lap, calming her down and carefully showing you how to relieve her aches. When her cries died down to just soft sobs you accepted the bowl Carol had brought and tried to feed her. When she didn’t accept any your heart broke and it was clearly visible on your face that you were hurt by her reaction.

“Sweetie, she’ll eat when she feels good enough. You shouldn’t worry too much.” Carol’s sweet words had Daryl chuckle. “Ya can tell her tha’ till ya drop dead, I tell her she’s an amazing momma every day but she’ll still cry to me when Rose fussed about not wanting to wear a sweater in winter.” His loving smile towards you didn’t go unnoticed.

Everything seemed to be going the right way when a loud scream caught your attention and frantic banging at your door sounded through the house and for a second you feared for the lives of your family before Michonne came barging in, out of breath and yelling about walkers and a breach in the wall.

“This continues later. Walkers first.” Deanna turned to make her way outside but was stopped by Daryl.

“What section?” Michonne quickly answered and followed closely behind him. You stood in the hallway spotting his knives and crossbow left at the door. “Dee, what are you gonna do?” You called out, already having a bad feeling about his plans, but you guessed it was the only thing that would help see the people who he really was.

His winged vest was dropped at the bottom of your porch steps and his boots laid toed off in the yard. “Showin’ em the truth.” And with that he stalked his way over to the breach, through the swarm of people that hadn’t gone off to fight.

The crowd raved and howled at him to leave them be, to get out and take his offspring with him but he only ignored them as he kept moving.

With the first walker in sight he snarled and rolled his shoulders before hunching over and easily shifted into his large creature form and tearing into the lone walker that got past the defense line.

“Retreat!” Rick and michonne had caught up with him and got all the survivors to pull away and help with prep work for the wall as Daryl tore through the herd that thinned out within minutes as he drove them all to the ground and back into the hole in the wall. Glenn and Maggie had set themselves up at the front of the gate repair crew, seeing as they weren’t afraid of Daryl like this and got the hole closed up quick enough so the others could start reinforcements as the cleanup group got rid of the remains of the dead.

Daryl had shoved the last of the walkers out of the community and followed through the broken wall to thin out the large buildup that had started forming. Loud snarls, aggressive sounds of the dead and bodies dropping to the floor was all you could hear on the safe end of the wall after the initial reinforcements were placed.

Deana had shown up to assist with the aftermath, you at her side carrying Rose in your arms. “It seems your partner did an outstanding job getting rid of the dead.” Her calm observation gave you a small sense of relief as the chattering voices around you all voices different sorts of opinions. “I hope it changes their minds.” Was all you could say, trying to block out the negative thoughts of being in the middle of so many people with your daughter right now.

The crowd had dispersed after the sudden walker intrusion. The ones left behind were either cleanup crew or ones with strong negation opinions even after Daryl just helped them without thinking twice. You stayed close to Deana while you waited for Daryl to return, who after it al quieted down beyond the wall, climbed back over and back down to greet you. He trotted down the street, head held low and and steps small as he tried his best not to scare anyone off while he remained in his non human form. He had almost made it to your side when you saw someone run in from beside him and throw something. It glimmered in the sunlight and wrapped around Daryl, clinging to his fur. A loud howl sounded through the street as he dropped to the ground, pawing at the thing around him but it felt like all the strength had left his body. Pained yelps and whines left him as he shook around trying to get the thing off. You ran up to him, setting Rose down next to you and grabbing at item that appeared to be a jewelry chain. You wrapped your fingers around it and pulled it off him, but not without being knocked on your ass when the chain caught on something and he thrashed around again.

When you got it off him you took a good look at the chain. It was in fact silver jewelry chain, a bunch if them clipped together to form a makeshift lasso. With your attention so focused on the pieces of jewelry,

You hadn’t noticed Rose waddling over, wanting to go to her daddy but getting distracted by the shiny thing and grabbing onto it with both hands. The whole world around you faded away as she shrieked in pain, letting go of the chain and dropping down crying, clutching her hands to her chest. Daryl shot up and moved his head to nudge at her, now cradled in your arms. You rocked her as you apologized what felt like a million times, trying to get a look at her hands but she wouldn’t open them for you. You managed to get her arms stretched do Daryl quickly nudged his snout against her little fists and lapped at them, wringing his tongue between her fingers to lick at her palms. The good thing about her being a little kid was that she’d heal from almost any surface injuries, and him licking the wounds would help speed up the healing so she could use her hands again hopefully soon.

Daryl let out a content grumble as his daughter sniffled and looked at her hands with a funny look, squeezing them together at the tingly feeling of the burns slowly fading away. He gave her a careful lick to the cheek to wipe away her tears before laying back down exhaustion.

You turned your daughter around in your lap to get a good look at her. “Does it still hurt, sweetie?” A little shake of her head helped you calm down a little bit as the world around you slowly came back into focus. A few mothers that stood around with concerned looks on their faces and children of all ages begging to pet the big dog. One of the younger women came up to you with some sweets in her hand, looking at you before continuing. “Can she have a candy? To help with the shock.” You gave Daryl a look, who nodded yes so you did as well. Some candies wee held out for Rose to pick from, but before she could grab some you chose the lollypop for her, making sure she wouldn’t take the chocolate and thanked the lady for the kind gesture.

There was some ruckus going on behind you, voices you recognized as Rick and Maggie and some others you didn’t.

“She’s a psycho!” You heard a woman’s voice yell. Sinking back into yourself as you immediately knew you were the topic of that fight. “She broke my husband’s nose! She has a child with that.. That monster over there!” Daryl only let out a huff of air, telling you to ignore them and their annoying words.

On the other side of the street parents were trying to hold back their kids who were begging them to let them pet the cool big dog. You shared another look with Daryl who let out a chuckle and a soft nod. Waving at the parents you waved to get them to come closer with their kids. “He says they can pet him, only a little bit.” You start, raising your hand and pointing at the kids. “But. Don’t pet on his neck. He’s still hurt there.” The kids excitedly huddled around him and put their hands in his fur. “Woah!” “He’s so warm.” “Sooofft!” The children loved him and you couldn’t help but wish you had a camera right now to capture this sweet moment. One of the fathers sat down next to you in front of Daryl and apologized. Admitting he had been part of the group who voted to kick you and your daughter out those years ago but saw now he had made a mistake then, acting out of fear instead of taking the chance to really speak with you as s person.

It seemed Daryl’s act really did help to change at least some peoples’ minds. You thanked the man for his honesty and took a moment to tell the children they pet the big dog enough.

Daryl took the opportunity to sit up and immediately Rose went to climb off your lap and onto his, grabbing at his fur and nuzzling it, enjoying the softness and warmth. “Looks like her hands are fine again.” You laughed at how she tried to hide herself in her father’s fur. Daryl out a large paw around her, holding her close as you informed you were going to talk to Deana.

Taking the bundled up silver chain in your hands you moved towards the woman and inform her of the thing someone used to hurt your partner.

She took the jewelry from your hands and inspected it, informing you she would do her best to find out who did this and make sure they were punished. From behind her that same woman from before spat curses at you before being cursed out herself by Denise, who threatened to halt the medical care for her entire family if she couldn’t be more accepting of the people who had to hide away their true selves for so long. Denise was the only one not from your original group who knew about the relationship between you and Daryl, and thus also about his condition although she had never seen any of it in person. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at Denise’s harsh comeback and loved all the support your family was getting.

More women joined your side, letting you know how brave they thought you’ve been all this time going out with your child, knowing there were people out to hurt her. And some nudging you and pointing towards Daryl, suggesting you wee brave for …other things as well. You turned beet red at the implication of you sleeping with Daryl like that, which no, you hadn’t. They all giggled along with you, chatting about how your kids should play together some time to which your face dropped again, sadly having to explain about Rose’s current issue and not feeling comfortable having her around other kids for now. You were happy to learn they all respected your decision albeit not entirely understanding it. You were a relatively young mother with a child you yourself also still had to learn a lot about.

Daryl had gotten up from his spot, making sure Rose walked with him to your group. When something grabbed at your leg you were quickly pulled from your conversation to pick up your daughter and greet Daryl with a pat on the head. “Feeling better again?” He nodded and grumbled, sitting down to close the circle and suddenly getting all kinds of stares from the ladies which had him tilt his head in confusion and stare at you. The ladies giggled again as your beet red color returned making Daryl nudge you with his nose. “They ehm.. Made some assumptions about us ..together..” Fumbling with the fabric of Rose’s shirt you stumbled over your words and Daryl quickly seemed to realize what you were getting at. He let out a content hum that had the ladies crying with laughter, patting you on the back and wishing you good luck with your boyfriend before walking off to find their own families and head back home. You looked back at Daryl who still sported a smug look and gave him a light pat to get the idea out of his head.

Rick came up to you two, informing you the people who were causing a scene earlier got taken care of. One of them also confessed to using the silver jewelry to hurt Daryl.

The realization of people being out to hurt you for real freaked you out, but the confirmation of them being taken care of made you feel a lot safer, knowing there were always people around who were on your side.

“Hey, Dee. Wanna head home? I think Rose is tired.” You glanced over at the child currently drooling over your shirt as she slept in your arms. “Besides,” a nudge with your elbow had him make a curious noise at you. “We solved our issue, so we should have that second kid talk right about now.”

Another content hum left Daryl’s throat as he happily nudged you along, leading you home with an eager tempo.

Once back home you went to put Rose to bed and fetch Daryl a new set of clothes while he shifted back into his human form. When you rounded the corner you threw his clothes at him so he could get dressed while you grabbed something to drink for you both.

Daryl had just finished dressing and pulling his hair up in a messy bun like he always did in the privacy of his own home. You set down the glasses and walked over to your boyfriend, kissing him to celebrate your victory today.

“Those burns aren’t healing well, huh?” You put your hands on his jaw, moving his head to get a better look as he shook his head. “Nah. Silver burns scar most of the time.” Your stood on your tiptoes to kiss the wounds and took his hands in yours. “Come, drink and nap. Both of us.” He accepted the drink and kindly waited for you to finish yours while he gulped his down in seconds.

The second your glass hit the table he had hauled you over his shoulder and made his way up the stairs.

“We aint nappin’ just yet, bunny.”

[thought--bubble]

She is Happy Now Part (4/5)

Modern Aemond X (Ex Girlfriend Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,097

She is happy now Master List

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, Alcohol use, Cheater apology

Aemond entered the throne room at the red keep wracked with nerves. His legs felt like jelly, and his heart rate was through the roof. The only people there so far are those in the wedding party. The guests are still making their way over. Aemond grabs a glass of wine and downs it.

"Aemond!" Aemond turns around to see the exasperated look of his mother. "What was wrong with you up there? Jiggling about! It was very distracting."

"Sorry mum"

He hates it when his mother looks at him with that look. The look of disappointment. A look that used to be reserved for Aegon once upon a time but now seems to be Aemonds gift from his mother.

"An affair with a professor!" Alicent is nearly screaming. "You were meant to go to school to learn philosophy! Not sexual education!"

She is pacing back and forth.

"Mum, it wasn't an affair it was a one-time thing " Aemond taps his fingers nervously on his knee.

"This is why you and that sweet girl are no longer together? So you could sleep with a woman my age? Have you completely lost all sense?"

Aemond swallows loudly but suddenly falls apart. "It was a mistake, Mum. I swear it. I had too much to drink. I wasn't thinking clearly. I ruined everything. I ruined my life, " he says between sobs

Alicent lets out a sigh. " You haven't ruined your life, Aemond. This was a bad move, that's for sure. The professor has been fired according to the correspondence from the school. It seems they want you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Keeping this quiet and I would suggest you do. Since you plan on going into teaching yourself, this kind of relationship could really hurt your future. "

"I did ruin my life. She's gone" he says crying quietly now

Alicent stops pacing and looks at Aemond with a look of pity.

"Oh hunny" Alicent wraps her arm around him and kisses his shoulder. "Are you sure it's over? Have you spoken with her?"

He sniffles "no I haven't. She won't speak to me. Heleana said she is pretending she never knew me. She has blocked me on all platforms. Egg and Heleana both refuse to speak to her on my behalf. I can't get her to talk to me" he looks at his mother with utter heartbreak in his eyes.

"Aemond, sometimes we make mistakes and those mistakes. They break things. Sometimes, those things that are broken, they can't be fixed. We have to let them go. We have to learn to accept that they are broken beyond repair"

"I don't know how to live without her" he says his sobs getting louder

"You don't have to live without her. You just have to live with her in your heart. Just because something we cherish breaks, it doesn't take our memories, the joy or the love it just changes how we experience those things." She sighs deeply and runs her hand through the hair on the top of his head

"I know this seems so difficult right now, but you will always remember her, and one day, this won't hurt so much. Right now, it's like a broken leg. But that leg will heal, and maybe every once and a while it will ache when it's rains. But it will heal. And it will work just as it should." She hugged Aemond tightly.

"We were supposed to be forever. I promised her forever, " he says in a near whisper.

"Delusions of grandeur are common amongst young love Aemond. She doesn't have to forgive you. You do, however, need to forgive yourself. Don't make excuses or justifications, but allow yourself the peace of acceptance."

"Acceptance," he scoffs at the word. How could he ever accept it? He stands leaning against the far wall by the doors to the throne room, watching each guest as they enter.

Finally, he sees her enter, arm looped around that of her boyfriend. She doesn't seem to notice him. Keeping her head down.

He hates seeing her like this. She was so headstrong. Head always up laughing boisterously. Was this change because of him? Had he damaged her this much?

He stays skulking around the edges of the room, not taking his eye off of her but not coming close enough for her to see him. He wants to talk to her. No, he needs to talk to her, but how can he do that with her boyfriend stuck to her side like some sort of accessory. He finally sees his opening when Heleana starts taking pictures of them.

He moves towards them with quick, quiet steps coming up behind his sister much to her surprise.

"Sister, let me take a picture of you with your ..." he stuttered for a second unable to think of a word but settles on "friends"

"Yeah, ok, thanks, Aemond." Heleana hands him the phone, and internally, he pats himself on the back. He has found a way, albeit small. To interact with her.

He takes a few photos of the three of them, and then looks passed the phone, looking her directly in the eyes.

"Absolutely beautiful."As soon as the words leave his mouth, his eye goes wide. Of all the things he could have said to her the first time he gets to speak to her in years, it's this. He internally groans good eye shifting to her boyfriend, who is looking at him with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. The silence continues for a minute longer, and when aemond looks back at her, she is still looking at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Her boyfriend squeezes her, whispers something in her ear, pointing across the room, and the two walk away slowly.

Once they are gone Aemond feels a slap to the back of his head.

"What in the 7 was that!" Heleana whisper screamed looking up at him.

"What?" Aemond asked feigning ignorance

"I told you, she is happy! Why would you say 'beautiful' " she mimics"like a creep and then stare down her boyfriend?" Heleana is waving her arms around madly in frustration.

"I was talking about the picture I took" he knew it was the lamest excuse ever and there was no way Heleana was going to buy it. But he had to try.

"UGHHH," Heleana pokes her finger into his chest. "Leave. Her. Alone." She continues poking into his chest "leave. Her. Alone!"

Aemond raises his hands in mock surrender. "Ok, ok"

He walks over to the main table where the wedding party is seated and takes his seat. He can't see her from here, so he closes his eye and waits for the speeches to begin. Ellyn sitting next to him taps his shoulder.

"Congratulations on graduating with high honors. That's an amazing achievement! Especially at that school"

He replies with a light "hmmm" while keeping his eye closed.

"I will not" Professor Rivers replies sharply

"I need you to do this!" Aemond replies desperate.

"And what do you think that would help pray tell?"

"She needs to know that you took advantage of me! That you sought me out drunk!"

"I did nothing of the sort," she scoffs.

"You cheated on your girlfriend. The sooner that sinks in and you take responsibility for it the better"

Aemond closes his eye and takes a deep breath "you ruined my life!"

She rolls her eyes and looks at him with indifference. "You had plenty of chances to tell me you had a girlfriend. All those times we flirted back and forth in class or in the halls. You were not drunk. You were stone cold sober. You never once said "hey this is inappropriate. I have a girlfriend." That was your choice. Tell me if she hadn't shown up and caught you. Would you feel so badly? Would you have told her? Would you have told me it was a mistake? Or would you have carried it on? Continued to sleep with me while sending love letters with false proclamations of loyalty to your darling love back home?"

Aemond clenched his jaw tight.

"Ahem" Allyn the professors TA stood in the professors doorway.

"Ummm. I'm here to collect the quizzes for grading professor"

She stares at him wide-eyed "yes of course"

The laughing spreading throughout the hall brings Aemond back. He sees that his mother is sitting down after having made her toast. He feels his nerves bubbling up. it will be his turn soon. He had prepared a short speech with more than Cassandra and Aegon in mind. After the run in with Heleana he knows he will be chastised further for it but, there are things he needs to say that he never got the chance to say and may never get the chance to say so he plans to utilize this opportunity.

Borros Baratheon stands up and hold out his glass "Aegon and Cassandra, I can't lie and say that I believed you two were a love match from the beginning" he laughs "I have such a high standard I never thought Aegon Targaryen could live up to, I am so very pleased you proved me wrong. You two have a love that reminds me of the love I shared with Cassandra's mother. One that is not based solely on romance but on friendship. You are not simply lovers but best friends. Confidantes, trusted advisors. You share inside jokes that most, myself included, could never hope to understand. A marriage built on a relationship like this is built to last, and I'm so grateful that my daughter found that in you, to Aegon and Cassandra! May your marriage be happy, fruitful, and stand the test of time!"

Sometimes, that's what Aemond felt like he missed the most. Yes, she was his High-school girlfriend she,up to that point, was also his best friend. The gaping hole that loss had created was immense.

Aemond wipes the palms of his hands on his slacks before grasping his glass of wine and standing up. He holds his glass out in front of him. He is trying to exude confidence but knows his facial expressions are betraying him.

"Aegon and Cassandra. A love like the two of you share is a rare and valuable thing. It is irreplaceable and changes you forever. It only takes a second to loose it. So I ask you both, whoever you make a decision, be it innocuous or extremely important , ask yourself how this will effect the other. If the answer is ever negatively, don't do it. No matter what it is. Most things can be replaced, but a love like this cannot, a love like this is palpable, tangible even, one only needs to stand in the presence of thebtwo of you together tobfeel how the air noticably changes that cannot be replaced, duplicated or imitated, and if it is lost, trust me when I say you can spend a lifetime in mourning. That is real and the value is incalculable Aegon and Cassandra" Aemond sees Heleana looking at him with a face that screams "Shut the fuck up!" He clears his throat and continues "I wish you a marriage filled with love and all the blessings that come with that, but the thing i wish you the most of is time. A long, long timen to spend together and in love. Cheers to Aegon and Cassandra"

Aemond takes a quick sip of his wine and gets back into his chair as quickly as possible. He looks back at Heleana, who looks like a dragon that would gladly burn him to death in this very moment.

He closes his good eye and leans back in his chair. The speeches continue going on around him, but he isn't listening. He feels like a small bit of weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He knows she heard that. She's in this room, and she finally heard him say he regrets it. He regrets losing her and that it was the biggest mistake of his life.

He continues to sit there eyes closed leaning back just listening to the sounds around him when he hears someone clearing their throat in front of him.

He opens his eye and is stunned to see her standing right in front of him eyes on him.

"Hey" he says. Heart beat fast and hands shaking.

Her eyes dart to the side and then back to him.

"Could I talk to you for a moment?"

A/N:: I am still deciding between one longer part or 2 smaller parts. After that, this story will be complete ❤️

Part 5

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[honeeysagee]

Come In With The Rain

Sam W. x Bucky B. AU: where Sam is a cafe owner in Delacroix and a new mechanic, Bucky, blows into town.

For the first time that summer, it rained. And not just a gentle drizzle, but a full-on downpour. The sky hung low and gray, and the air was thick and muggy as if you had been standing under a dense canopy for hours. The scent of wet earth and damp trees filled the air, with water still dripping from the branches, making the humidity cling to your skin.

For Sam Wilson, the rain signaled a slow day at the shop, but it hardly deterred him. There were plenty of tasks awaiting his attention in the back. One project, in particular, caught his eye: the small battery-powered car he had promised to fix for his nephews, AJ and Cass. It had been months since he made that promise, and today, with the rain pouring down outside, he finally had the time.

For AJ and Cass, the rain meant a monotonous day at the shop, confined to their uncle’s watchful gaze.

As Sam tinkered with his toolbox, occasionally glancing at the shop’s door in anticipation of the bell's chime, he decided to focus on the car. He would look over at his nephews now and then, catching their admiring gazes before they quickly returned to their homework, pretending to be studious. Sam chuckled softly.

The rain drummed on the roof, creating a steady, soothing rhythm. Sam glanced out the window, watching the heavy drops splatter against the road, turning it into a shimmering, reflective surface. A few cars braved the weather, but most remained parked under the awning across the street, seeking shelter from the deluge. Sam flipped on the coffee machine and lit a fire for the boys to keep them warm.

After dusting off his hands, Sam stretched and groaned, then turned to his nephews. "Grilled cheese and soup?" he asked. Both boys perked up instantly. Sam smiled down at them, his grin widening as he led them to the kitchen, memories of his childhood flooding back.

Sam had been around 15 when his father owned the café. He spent countless afternoons and weekends there, working alongside his dad. He'd wander the kitchen with a grilled cheese sandwich in one hand and a hammer in the other. While his father managed the café, Sam busied himself in the back, fixing anything he could get his hands on. That same passion still drives him today, and he often felt his father's guiding hand on his shoulder whenever he cooked or repaired something.

Now, those days are just lingering in the back of his mind. But, they aren't forgotten. Not by a long shot.

"Mom is cooking fish tonight if you want to come over," AJ stated as he pulled bread from a cabinet. Sarah had mentioned it when she dropped the boys off, but Sam told her no. He figured he would be too tired from work today, but the storm came. He shrugged, "I don't know, buddy. How about I come over tomorrow?" AJ frowned, and Sam added, "Plus, tomorrow is the big game. Saints versus Cowboys. Don't we have a bet going on?" AJ brightened considerably at this prospect, "Don't you mean the bet that you're going to lose."

Sam rolled his eyes affectionately. After minutes, the food was ready, and the boys were back in their original seats. They ate in companionable silence while their uncle fiddled with his tools.

Then, the door of the shop was pushed open. The sound drew Sam's attention away from the engine in front of him, and he looked up to see a soaking wet man walking through the door. His clothes clung to his body, and his hair clung to his forehead, sticking straight up like porcupine quills. He looked miserable. Sam almost laughed.

Almost.

He had seen more than his fair share of grumpy customers - ones that didn’t take nicely to his jokes or helping hands. So, instead of asking how the weather was, he asked, “Welcome to the Wilson’s Café.” Sam stood again, his bones growing tired. “Looks like you need help.”

The stranger looked upwards - his eyes matching the clouds of the storm. Rainwater trickled down his sharp features, clinging to his long, dark hair that hung in wet strands around his face. His leather jacket, soaked through, clung to his broad shoulders, giving him a rugged, almost forlorn appearance. As he stepped into the warmth of the cafe, water dripped from his jeans and boots, pooling slightly on the floor. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, attempting to push it back but only managing to slick it further. Despite his bedraggled state, there was a quiet intensity in his steel-blue eyes that captured Sam's attention from behind the table.

"Um," His voice matched everything about him, "Just needed to come in from the rain."

Sam nodded, "You got it," he replied. He gestured to a nearby stool that was stationed by the fireplace, "Would you like some tea? It's very hot." The man eyed the stool warily. Sam added, "First drink on the house."

"You're lucky. We never get our drinks on the house." Cass threw the statement to the stranger, which made Sam roll his eyes. "How do you like your tea?" he asked pointedly. The stranger glanced up at the menu that hung over Sam's head. His eyes shifted left to right before looking back at Sam. "Earl Grey. Medium sugar. Thanks."

The man was short with Sam, which made him push his eyebrows together in confusion. He was new here definitely, he thought to himself. New to the area, anyway. Sam fixed the tea with ease - an order he frequently made for himself on days like this. Then, he marched the warm cup to the man with a leftover grilled cheese.

"On the house too." Sam mumbled. The man grunted and took the mug wordlessly, holding it close to his chest. "Thanks."

Sam returned to his work as the boys focused less on their food and homework and more on the silent stranger who was staring into the fire. Sam would occasionally make a face at the boys which would cause them to turn away but never for too long. As the silence grew so did his frustration with the engine of the small car.

"So, why do you look like that?" AJ asked.

"AJ!" Sam called out. When AJ merely raised his eyebrows innocently, Sam shook his head and sighed. "It's rude to ask strangers stuff like that."

AJ nodded seriously in agreement. "Sorry, sir."

Sam sighed and shook his head, "Okay, you know the drill. Dishes in the sink, and head upstairs," He helped them place their things into a backpack, "No fighting. No biting, and no,"

"Crying." The boys finished in unison. Sam only nodded and patted them on their heads. After they left the room, Sam fixed himself a cup of coffee and headed to the man. "I apologize my nephews. They kind of just speak their minds whenever they want."

The man nodded silently. His eyes trailed over the tools littering the floor with the car - the hammer, the wrench, the pliers. His head nodded to them, "You fix toys?"

Sam shook his head, "Not usually, but I made that thing for the boys, and it doesn't work." He pointed to the engine. "I tried everything that I can think of, but nothing seems to be able to work. And my nephews are getting restless just spending their evenings on homework," he joked, trying to make light of the situation. The man smiled wryly and Sam wondered what had caused such a sour expression. "What makes it tick?" The man asked.

"The engine's busted. Doesn't turn on."

He hummed, then, he stood from the stool. "May I?" He asked, picking up a tool.

Sam was his opportunity. "I usually don't let people touch my tools unless I get their name." The man raised his eyebrows as he began to unscrew the panel covering the engine compartment, revealing the wiring beneath. "It's James," he began, a sly smile playing upon his lips, "But, everyone calls me Bucky." Sam watched as the man slid his fingers inside the wires - his interest peaked by the minute.

"I'm Sam."

Bucky looked up. "It's nice to meet you, Sam." He said sincerely, his voice echoing throughout the cafe. Once the last of the wires was removed, Bucky settled to the floor. His dark blue eyes met Sam's brown ones. "You can ask me."

He had read Sam's face; and saw that he wanted to know more about this stranger who blew into the cafe and started fixing the engine on a fake car. Sam nodded and leaned against the counter. "It's not often we get newcomers. Are you new in town or just passing through?" He asked, curious but cautious nonetheless. He was known to pry too much too soon. So, he kept his distance and just tried to make small talk.

"Not sure yet."

Sam watched as Bucky worked, his deft fingers maneuvering through the tangled wires with ease. It was clear that Bucky had experience with mechanical work, his movements precise and confident. The rain continued to beat against the windows, a constant rhythm that seemed to match the methodical movements of Bucky’s hands.

"You're good at this," Sam remarked, unable to hide his curiosity. Bucky glanced up, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Spent a lot of time fixing things," he said simply, returning his attention to the engine. Sam studied the man closely; his gaze trailing along Bucky’s body, examining every curve, every freckle. Even though it wasn’t obvious from where he was seated, Sam could tell that Bucky was built like a brick house. Strong, sturdy arms, strong thighs, strong calves… Sam’s eyes lingered longer on Bucky’s waist. A little more defined abs than Sam was used to seeing.

Bucky noticed Sam watching him and cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling Sam from his thoughts. He coughed and sat forward on the stool he was perched upon, placing his hands on the countertop in front of him, "Your wiring was wrong. Common mistake."

"Thanks," Sam stated. "Think it will drive now?"

Bucky shrugged, "Maybe, if you get a new battery too. Dead ones don't make the car go."

Sam raised his eyebrows and grabbed his coffee mug. The coffee ran cold by now. Time seemed to speed by when he watched Bucky work. "Pas besoin d'être un connard." Sam whispered to himself softly. His gaze flickered over Bucky once again, who was chuckling into his cup.

"No need to be an asshole."

"French?" He asked, raising one brow. "Je ne voulais pas te contrarier. Pardonne-moi."

"I didn't want to upset you. Please forgive me."

Sam snorted quietly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. "You're forgiven." He lifted the mug and placed it on the counter with more force than necessary. "So, what brought you to Delacroix, Bucky?" His name tasted like honey in his mouth.

"I couldn't spend another night in the truck, so I decided to stretch my legs, and then, the storm caught me." His words were soft, barely audible as a slight shiver racked his entire being. "Not to mention, I saw the help wanted sign outside the shop," He cleared his throat, "I'm terrible at coffee, but I'm good with my hands."

Sam glanced down at them, which was covered by dark leather gloves. Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah," His tone was soft, "I noticed. I mean. it would be nice to have some help. I have a lot of projects back there that need to be finished," He leaned on the corner, "But, I still need to give you the interview. Can't just have anyone in my shop."

Bucky nodded, but Sam could see his mind was elsewhere with that statement. Sam was known for prying more than he should, offending people where he shouldn't, and he enjoyed it for the most part. He liked to watch people tick and wanted to know how to make them do so, but his mind had already decided that Bucky would not be one of those people - if he could help it. He started easy.

"Where are you from?" A simple question that made Bucky's face twitch. "Originally from Brooklyn. Moved around a lot." His eyes flickered towards him as if he were searching Sam's. "La maison est partout si vous la cherchez. My mother's saying."

"Home is everywhere if you are looking for it."

"Well, have you found it?" Sam whispered like a secret between them was about to be shared. Bucky matched his energy, "Not yet, but I'm not looking for it." Sam hummed as he thought.

"How soon can you start?" The sentence floated between the both of them, as they exchanged glances for several seconds before Sam pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth. Bucky smiled, showing his perfect teeth, and Sam swallowed - taking note that the man before him had no flaws.

"Tomorrow would be great."

"Good," Sam muttered. "We need a new face around here," His eyes flitted up to meet the man, a small smirk tugging at his lips. Then, he glanced over at the shop's window, realizing the rain had stopped. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans, then stood from the counter. "I have to get the boys over to my sister's place. I can show you around," Sam offered, "If you're up for it."

Bucky smiled softly. "That sounds like fun." The grin on his lips grew wider, "Lead the way." Sam walked to the wall opposite of them and let his knuckles rap the wood in four hard taps. Suddenly, a door from upstairs came bursting open with the patterns of small footsteps following. His nephews were down the stairs, huffing and puffing.

"Who's ready to see Ma?" He grinned, his nephews answering in unison with enthusiastic yeses.

With a laugh, he stepped aside. "This is Bucky. He’ll be helping me with repairs for now. So, you have to treat him nice, alright?" The two children nodded solemnly as Bucky stood awkwardly next to their bubbling energy. It almost reminded him of his sister back home. His heart ached for a moment before he was pulled back into the moment by Sam speaking to him, "Are you ready to meet Delacroix?"

Bucky nodded. "Of course." He followed him as Sam opened the front door. The streets glistened under the soft glow of the streetlamps, their reflection in the puddles creating a mirror image of the world above.

The air was cool and fresh, with a crispness that only a day-long rain could bring. Bucky pulled his jacket tighter around him, feeling the gentle embrace of the damp, clean air. He looked around, taking in the quaint charm of the town. The buildings were a mix of old and new, their brick and wood facades adorned with ivy and flower boxes that overflowed with vibrant blooms, glistening with raindrops.

Bucky felt a sense of ease washing over him. Sam turned to Bucky with a smile. "Thanks for walking with us. It's nice to have some company."

Bucky nodded, appreciating the kindness. "Thanks for the tea and grilled cheese. It was just what I needed." Sam chuckled. "Anytime. And about that job—we'll talk more tomorrow. Get settled in tonight."

Bucky nodded again, feeling a sense of anticipation for the days ahead. "Sounds good."

The evening was calm, the air fresh after the rain. Sam looked at Bucky, seeing a potential friend and ally. "You know, this place could use someone like you. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for here."

Bucky met his gaze, a small smile forming on his lips. "I hope so, Sam. I really do." They shared smiles. Sam could almost feel something else lingering underneath the surface of the smile that rested on Bucky's features, but it wasn't exactly clear. He looked back towards, noticing the lights flickering slightly against the raindrops. Somewhere in the air, Sam swore he could feel it that day, there was hope of something beautiful blooming.

[simplykorra]

the beauty of your repair - chapter ten

It’s still dark out when she finally gives up trying to fall back asleep.

Ava rolls onto her back and reaches blindly for her phone on the nightstand. She grabs it, tapping the screen and letting it blind her momentarily before squinting through the bright light just enough to see what time it is.

2:47AM

“Fuck,” she whispers into the emptiness of her bedroom. At least if she makes it to 3:30 she can pretend she got a decent night of sleep. It’s not going to happen now though, her brain is humming too much, too full of thoughts she can't control - if she lays here it will only get worse.

So she sits up and rubs the sleep out of her eyes, staring at a few spots of light from the streetlights outside that are coming in through her partially open blinds.

April is almost over, it’s still cold, but not as unbearable as it has been.

Ava drags herself out of bed and grabs her comforter to wrap around herself. She’s only in a tank top and sleep shorts and really doesn’t want to have to put any pants on.

Besides, the comforter is still warm as it hugs her, dragging along behind her as she moves to the window.

As carefully as she can, Ava cracks it open and steps out into the cold morning air.

She holds the comforter tight on her shoulders before stepping out onto the side paneling and carefully pulling herself up onto the roof.

This isn’t the first time she’s done this since she’s been here

CONT ON AO3

[dollsonmain]

Ok, so all at once (though not really, it's more that That Guy has neglected these things forever and made it impossible for me to take care of them), we have:

bathroom floor is rotting

AC is broken

driveway has sunken and there's a literal hole in it

very leaky window which he filed an insurance claim for and will be repaired whenever, but he probably should have just paid for the repair without filing a claim because it's under $2k and now his premiums are going to go up

the ceiling fan doesn't work

deck is literally rotting

gutters are clogged

garage roof has water damage

lots of small wasps inside recently

ants in the walls

all four outdoor lights on the front of the house need replaced

basement wall is leaking but he can pretend it's not because there are boxes in the way

fridge is rattling

And then add to that I have a "new" job that's wrecking me (it's gotten better after she stopped having me go into the cooler to schlep drinks around) and taking up both my physical and mental time because I'm stuck in a brain loop of frustrations with how the place is run.

Today I have work and then groceries and then after groceries I can barely move so I won't get anything else done. I have no idea how much I work this week so can't really plan anything. It's also going to be very hot this week so I won't be getting outside much.

[nifolution]

I Quit 7

Warnings: some smut, some angst, noncon touching, dubcon oral, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, being drugged, undressed and tied up, name calling, threats

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own. Thoughts are in italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 6 Series Masterlist  Main Masterlist

Chapter 7

“I’m uncertain what exactly you are asking of me.” Harlan picked at the cuff of his shirt, awaiting his grandson’s explanation.

Two days ago, a pipe burst ‘unexpectedly,’ flooding Ransom's home. In lieu of a hotel, he decided to stay at the mansion while repairs were being made. Meanwhile, his relatives were getting ready for a week-long ski trip in the Berkshire Mountains to celebrate his mom’s birthday. The conditions were looking favorable. Hell, his father was so certain that everyone would be busy having fun, that he already paid for his current mistress to meet him there.

As tempting as causing some mayhem with his family and bedding a few snow bunnies sounded, his focus was solely on the seemingly unattainable chef. He had stolen a taste and craved more. It was time to switch tactics, no more messing around. He would get what he wanted.

When Ransom informed his mother he couldn’t go, claiming his recent hardship had caused him to come down with a cold, Linda sucked her teeth, told him he was acting like a baby and put the back of her hand to his forehead. A brief look of remorse crossed her face before declaring he clearly couldn't go in this shape. She then screamed for Fran, demanding hand sanitizer.

He could barely suppress his devious grin. Keeping up the act was easy. A heating pad to get his head burning hot, making sure to appear completely worn down and in pain. He’d pretend to blow his nose, stuff balled up pieces of tissue up his nostrils to sound congested. Force out a few coughs, wiggle his tongue on the roof of his mouth to trigger a sneeze. He had looking sick down to a science.

Ransom coughed into his fist. “You’re still paying her, you should have her cook for me in your absence. All that sumptuous food will surely help nurse me back to health. Plus I'll be here to watch over the place.”

“Please consider it. I’m too weak to even make my own toast. It's bad enough I'm missing the trip, don't let me starve.”

Harlan was skeptical, well versed in his grandson’s antics. Refusing to be swayed by the young man’s act of malaise. While true that he planned to allow Y/N to spend the week off with pay, he had not informed her of the decision. Ransom’s pleas to not be deprived of her luscious creations were entertaining. He wondered what he was up to.

After some back and forth, they compromised. Y/N would be paid for the entire week, but only be required to come in for a single day to prepare a few meals for Ransom to reheat.

Ransom nodded in agreement, already having visions of taking her under the wheel of knives. “That’s all I need.”

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

Y/N walked into the manor unsure why it gave her a bad feeling. Shaking it off, she convinced herself it was because the house was empty except for major asshole sick upstairs. She probably wouldn’t have to see him at all today. Just cook a week of meals and get the hell out of here. She hoped whatever was wrong with him made him miserable.

Making her usual pot of coffee, she got started.

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

“Wakey wakey.”

Y/N groaned as she attempted to open her eyes. The jarring light made her quickly squeeze them shut again. She turned her head into the pillow. The dull throbbing in her brain not giving her any incentive to try to get up.

“There she is. I was almost afraid I gave you too much. That would have been unfortunate.”

Ughhhh, why the hell is he here? Of course he’d show up when I already feel like shit.

Feeling too groggy to deal with him immediately, Y/N began to stretch, preparing herself to beat his ass. Something pulled painfully at her left wrist, not allowing her arm to move. Opening her eyes, she could make out the shiny metal binding her to the bed.

“What the fuck?” Y/N tugged at the handcuff, willing it to release her. Confused and pissed off, she searched for Ransom. Even with her vision blurry around the edges, she could tell this was not her room.

She followed the sound of his wicked chuckle until his blue sweater came into view. He stalked around the large bed, amused at her current predicament.

“Let me go, asshole!”

A chill came over her as he passed. Looking down, she was alarmed to find herself without a stitch of clothing on. Y/N clamped her legs shut, throwing her free arm over her breasts.

This can NOT be happening. I’m going to fucking kill him.

Ransom’s handsome cocky face appeared above her, unabashedly devouring her with his eyes. “I don't think I will. I went through a lot of trouble to get you here, good thing you still need that morning caffeine fix.”

“You drugged my coffee, you fucking psycho?”

He shrugged, “Guilty as charged.”

Disappearing for a moment, he returned, holding a glass to her lips. “You’re gonna need this.” Noticing her hesitation, he swore it was just water. Satisfied as she cautiously sipped it.

When she finished, he set down the glass and climbed onto the bed. Running his fingertips down her side making her squirm. “I prefer you like this. No knives, no boiling pots, just you and me.” His eyes darkened with promise, “And I'm looking at the only thing I want to eat.”

Y/N wanted to tear his eyes out. She tried to slap his hand away without exposing too much of herself, “Get your perverted hands off me, undo these cuffs and give me back my clothes. NOW!”

“Your anger is a real turn on.” He smirked, running his thumb over her bottom lip, “Let this be a lesson to you…”

“I always get what I want.”

Ransom pulled her arm away from her chest, biting at her inner wrist. He crawled on top of Y/N, pinning her arm next to her head. Effectively caging her with his body, he placed soft kisses to her neck, quickly turning ravenous.

She didn’t want to be feeling these things. Y/N’s stomach fluttered and her heart beat faster. Words failed her, lost in the sensations his greedy mouth provided. She did her best to show no reaction, but the goosebumps on her skin and her quickened breaths betrayed her. The effect of his touch was undeniable.

Taking his time to reacquaint himself with her breasts, his wandering fingers glided over her nipples. Moving his kisses down between her tits, as his hands caressed them. Lifting his head, he blew air across her nipples until they hardened.

He placed his large hands over each breast, massaging and squeezing them together. Increasing the pressure until almost painful. His rough actions in contrast with the softness of the pampered pricks hands.

The flick of his tongue over each nipple had Y/N clenching around nothing. An involuntary whine escaping as the wet appendage traced her areolas. Using his hot breath to further stimulate her peaks, he sucked one into his mouth, simultaneously pinching the other. Ransom alternated his licks and sucks between both breasts while she futilely attempted to resist.

Her skin was on fire, all her senses intoxicated with her tormentor. She swallowed as he moved down her body, leaving a burning trail with his sinister mouth and hands. He spread her legs with little resistance, settling between them like this was his personal throne.

First exploring with his fingers, he gently rubbed her clit with his thumb. Y/N gasped and tried to close her legs. Ransom swatted them back open and lowered his chin to rest on her mound, waiting for her to match his gaze.

It took a moment for her to look down, greeted with his beautiful blues staring back at her. The sight of him between her legs making her weak. His eyes carried a mischievous glint as he lowered his face. Her breath caught in her throat when he eagerly lapped and sucked at her folds. Dragging his tongue down and around, dipping into her opening. Licking teasing circles around where she needed him most, gently flicking his tongue on her bud before repeating.

Any remaining fog Y/N felt disappeared as he took her apart piece by piece. Her free hand found its way into his hair, holding on for dear life. His tongue wiggled itself fully inside her aching hole. She cried out in surprise when he sucked as much of her into his mouth as he could. A loud satisfied hum sending ripples through her, electrifying every nerve.

Releasing her, Ransom licked his lips and dove back in for more. His hands moved from gripping her thighs to kneading her ass as he continued to expertly suck and lick at her most sensitive areas. Devouring her like a fine meal.

“Say my name, Killer.” He commanded, softly licking her clit up and down.

Her toes curled, “Oh God!”

“Close. Try again.” His tempo increased.

“Hugh”, she taunted, pulling on his locks.

A slap to her cunt made her gasp. She gave in, “Ransom.”

Satisfied, Ransom sucked on two of his fingers, smiling at her before slowly, maddeningly inserting them in her dripping pussy. Slightly curling his digits as he pumped them in and out, he continued using his entire tongue to lick from her opening to her clit.

She wrapped her legs around his shoulders, silently begging for more as she grinded against his face. Her hand squeezed her right breast as the sweet pressure built. Ransom reached out to grab her left. Y/N’s back arched more and more as her thighs began to quiver.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

The dam burst. Her body felt like it was levitating as she came with a shriek, collapsing in a boneless heap.

Withdrawing his fingers, Ransom slid up her body. Grabbing the back of her neck, he pulled her into a kiss, possessing her breath. To his sheer delight, Y/N held his cheek, deepening the kiss, entwining their tongues in a dance of dominance.

Suddenly, she broke contact by putting her hand over his mouth. “Get me out of these so I can return the favor. You won’t regret it.”

His eyes lit up. Pulling the key out of his pants pocket, Ransom excitedly unlocked the cuffs. She took a minute to rub at the freed wrist before encouraging him to lay down. He spanked her juicy behind as they switched positions, making her laugh.

Y/N wasted no time pulling his clothes off. Kissing him hard and groping every part of him she could reach. He felt as amazing as she imagined.

“I knew you wanted me. I knew it, I fucking knew it.” Ransom was elated at the turn of events.

Tearing off the black boxer briefs, Y/N marveled at his impressive cock. Fully erect and begging for attention, it made her almost forget she shouldn’t sink down on and ride him into next week.

She grinned at him as she closed the handcuffs on both his hands, securing him to the bed, “Fair is fair.”

“Kinky slut.” Transfixed on the gorgeous smile directed at him, Ransom submitted to her game.

Pressing her lips to his one more time, she began kissing down his neck, leaving a few love bites. He yelped when she tweaked both his nipples. Forgiven with giggles because she looked so hot worshiping his body. Ransom closed his eyes in pleasure.

Y/N paid special attention to his chest and abdomen, sucking as many hickies as she could. He wantonly moaned each time, encouraging her to mark him, make him hers. She had to admit she was loving having control over him. His desperate sounds making her drip.

Parting his thighs and kneeling between them, she scratched down both of his strong thighs causing him to hiss. “Eyes on me, baby, you don't want to miss this.”

Ransom watched with interest as her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking the firm velvety length. They locked eyes as Y/N gave it a long lick. Lowering her mouth over the crown, she started swirling her tongue around, gently sucking the head before pulling back.

Gathering saliva in her mouth, she swallowed him until he bumped the back of her throat. Gagging slightly, she pulled away. Y/N smiled coyly, tickling his frenulum with the tip of her tongue. Taking a deep breath, she firmly grasped the base, repeating her previous action. 

Gently sucking as he slid in and out of her mouth, she used her other hand to carefully fondle his balls. Ransom praised her, his head falling back onto the pillow, eyes falling shut again, relishing in the wet heat of her mouth.

Y/N increased her rhythm until Ransom was a panting mess above her, every muscle in his body tense. She switched to pumping with her hand, “You close, baby?”

“S-s-so close.”

She gave another lick…

Then pulled away, sitting back on her heels.

It took a few seconds before Ransom’s eyes popped open, “Why'd you stop?”

When she didn’t respond, he grew concerned. “What's wrong?… Killer?”

“I changed my mind,” she shrugged. “I quit.”

He nervously chuckled, “You can't do that. Babe, come on, stop playing around.”

Y/N got off the bed, standing with her hands on hips, staring at him in all his glory. Sighing she shook her head. “What a pity? If you weren't such an asshole…. Oh well.”

She picked up his sweater from the floor, putting it on. His pants and socks followed. His shoes were far too big, but better than nothing. She brandished the key she found, then repocketed it.

“Thanks for the orgasm, but I have better places to be.”

Ransom flipped out, yelling and calling her horrible names. Struggling against the handcuffs with all his might.

She just smiled, “Let this be a lesson to you.” Taking a few steps towards the door, his voice made her pause.

“Killer, Killer, come on, let me go,” he begged. “I’ll forgive you, okay. Shit got out of hand. We don’t have to do anything else. I won’t tell anyone. You won’t tell anyone. I’ll leave you alone for good. You can’t leave me like this. Just help me out of the cuffs, please.”

Wow, he said please. That must have hurt.

Y/N observed him for the last time; naked and handcuffed, chest polka dotted with marks and bruises and impressively still hard and begging. What a state. She felt oddly proud of her accomplishment.

“Sorry, I don't work here.” Cracking up, she turned and walked out the bedroom door, waving goodbye.

Making a small stop in Harlan's office, she could hear ransom struggling upstairs.

Poor baby.

The rush of cold air hitting her face as she left was invigorating. Feeling alive and determined, she walked to her car with a confident gait. Before taking off, she flipped off the house.

So long, assholes.

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

Ransom was beyond livid after suffering the humiliation of being found like THAT. He’d been trapped for two days before Fran came by. She had to call someone to come over to cut the cuffs off. He could tell the housekeeper was barely holding in her laughter at his predicament. Even threatening her job and her life didn’t stop her from leaking the information.

Currently he was sitting in his grandfather’s office. Harlan summoned him there, but had yet to speak to him directly. Puttering around, apparently too busy to enlighten Ransom as to why. The longer he was made to wait, the more irritated he got.

Finally Harlan addressed his grandson, “It was quite an unpleasant surprise to come home to my chef’s resignation on my desk. Less surprising was your involvement in her decision.” 

Upon reading the letter when he returned home, Harland immediately phoned Y/N to get the full story. He apologized to her several times, as she did to him as well. He let her know of his disappointment to see her go, and that him and his stomach will miss her terribly. She thanked him for the opportunity and friendship. They parted ways on good terms.

Staring down Ransom, he picked up the phone to call Alan. Instructing him to send his former chef her last check with hefty severance pay and that he would be including a glowing recommendation. Smiling as he spoke, watching his grandson ball his hands into fists, his jaw clenching and eyes ablaze with fury. It was so easy to ruffle his feathers.

Ransom flew out of his chair, knocking it over, going nose to nose with Harlan. “You’re giving that little bitch that much money. Are you out of your fucking mind, old man? You should be calling the cops, not rewarding that slut.”

His grandfather’s amused smile only furthered his anger. “You are my family. You should be supporting ME… You are nothing but a filthy traitor… You set me up, didn’t you?” The accusation rang true in his brain so he clung onto it. He would not stand for this betrayal.

Harlan found the act of intimidation humorous. He would not back down from rubbing the embarrassing blunder in his grandson’s face. “You’ve been harassing this young woman, drugged her, kidnapped her…”

Ransom interrupted, rolling his eyes, “It's not kidnapping if it's in the same house.”

“…bound and sexually assaulted her. And you're mad she got the upper hand?” Harlan threw his head back with a barking laugh. “If she was still on the payroll, I'd give her a raise.” He continued to laugh in Ransom's face. “You are a paragon of foolishness and pride. Do not think I will forget what you have cost me.”

“You will regret this. Just wait.” Ransom stormed out of the office, taking his rage out on everything he saw. 

By the sound of it, Harlan would have to repair a few things once Ransom was done with his tantrum. Turning his chair to face the window, he watched the falling snow. Lamenting the loss of a wonderful employee, he looked forward to supporting her on her next venture. She was going to go places. He would see to it. 

His grandson on the other hand, well, he was going to have to practice some tough love with him. Harlan’s soft heart decided to let Ransom cool off first. Big changes would come soon enough.

The End

A/N: A special thank you to everyone that has read this version or the original. I appreciate you all and I’d love to know your thoughts.

[tanoraqui]

On one hand: I now DESPERATELY want like, a 5+1 of times Maedhros went nuclear on the HOA/PTA (and one time Fingon did it for him).

But also I am now imagining the canon setting HOA/building codes. Like. They're like 95% defensive stuff about keeping walls clear and in good repair, fire suppressant means on hand, etc. But the remaining 5% is buckwild Finwean aesthetic bullshit.

Thanks for the ask! If it’s in any way reassuring, re: your tags on the inspiring post, Maedhros doesn’t run the HOA with an iron fist so much as…okay listen have you ever read the Meng Yao vs. the Board of the Homeowner's Association MDZS/Untamed fox series? Maedhros can’t use his power or his menacing reputation for the HOA (or PTA, etc) because this is his mild-mannered alter ego. He can’t even act too much like Maedhros Fëanorion(TM), because the disguise is glasses + Clark Kenting! So instead of being sexily threatening and supernaturally authoritative, he rules the HOA with nonthreatening charm, spreadsheets, and a dash of blackmail as necessary.

Also, actually, he has a full-time job as a CEO/supervillain, so most likely he rules the HOA through a convenient patsy.

Idk if I can pull out a full 5+1, but…

1. When they were still living in an apartment in downtown Echo City (penthouse, fairly fancy but not where the UBER-wealthy live), one time Maedhros suggested to the building manager that the rooftop garden would be more aesthetically cohesive and appealing with brickwork pathways. The manager brushed him off. Maedhros took offense (“Our contract says that the landlord will maintain the building for use AND aesthetics!”) and rallied other residents to make a fuss. After three weeks of escalating complaints, the building manager nearly started crying in an all-parties meeting as he tried to explain that he’d asked about getting superficial brickwork on the roof, okay, he’s sorry he was dismissive at first, that’s on him, but he did ask, and his boss said that he’s not allowed to so much as look at contractors to upgrade the garden paths—

It was at this point that Fingon pulled his beloved husband aside and asked, “Russo don’t you technically own this building?”

“Yes,” said Maedhros.

“So his boss, or his boss’s boss’s boss’s boss…”

“He was rude to me,” Maedhros hissed. “Which is a failure at his job, too! I will break him, and then I will have him fired and replaced with someone who is a more quality judge of interior and exterior design.”

2. When they moved into a house in the suburbs, neither bothered much with the HOA at first, because they were too busy with their newly untesttubed baby. Maedhros realized he needed to Do Something about it when the HOA wouldn’t let them put up an eye-searing display of Solstice lights. Fingon more or less said “sic ‘em” on this one; in all universes, Noldor are (sometimes fatally) attracted to shiny things. They’re like crows.

3. Maedhros licked the chocolate crumbs from his fingers with intense focus.

“This isn’t just homemade,” he said slowly. “It’s actually good.”

“That’s great!” said Fingon. Judgement passed, he bit into his own brownie. “Mmm, yeah, that is good—I can’t believe your weird little competition prompted her to not just make real brownies for once, but to make good ones! I assumed she lied about the storebought ones because she just couldn’t—hey, no. No.”

He grabbed his husband’s hand, which was pulling out a cellphone with the same forbidding fury that most people reserved for drawing guns.

“You are not allowed to call a hit on Laura from the PTA,” Fingon said sternly. “Be proud! Be happy! You inspired her, and now the bake sale stands a real chance!”

“I’m not calling a hit on her,” Maedhros said grimly. “I said I’d humiliate her and I meant it—so I’m doing far worse.”

He swiped the phone open and handed it to Fingon.

“Please call your grandmother and ask for her brownie recipe—you know, the really good fudgey one that my father always pretended to hate.”

BY THE WAY, it hasn’t come up at all in the au and I’m not sure about the details or implications, but the Vanyar are definitely an alien race. Maybe secretly? 2/3 of this extended family are only partly or mostly human. They still get their superpowers from Finwë’s side, though.

[zillyeh]

From the Cracks

companion piece to this one

Characters: Zipper Anthem, Castel Baclef

The near open walls of the Serpent’s Hands breezy cathedral let in every sound from the Old North. The repairs that had been done over the sweeps were never structurally sound enough to keep out the elements. It seemed like this time the ON was really putting in some effort, though. They had the funds and manpower for it now. Crumbled walls had real supports jutting out from the top, reaching past where there once may have been stained glass windows to touch the well abused roof.

At the base of the construction, looking far too long and gangly on the floor, squatted a purpleblood. The old drone-brick that still stood strong behind the pulpit interested him, much to the chagrin of the Undertaker.

She thought she was doing enough for him- keeping his uppity little south city bakery from getting Smiles branded bricks through his window- but no. His little bestie twisted her arm with another bribe to let him up here. In her church. 

If money weren't such a problem she never would have entertained this.

"Have you found what you're looking for yet or what?" Undertaker Anthem demanded, her voice rough and annoyed through her mask. Castel flinched at the sound of her voice, but let out a gentle hum in response.

"I may be getting close," he said, leafing through his old, battered book. "It is supposed to be low enough for the damage not to have reached…" The lilt of an Enfaris accent kissed the edges of his words, making Zippie grimace more. Clowns. He lacked the paint, but that didn’t matter. It couldn't. She couldn't afford to not be on edge.

"You could always help," he continued, "It might be-"

"No. I'm staying parked right here." For all her posturing and glares, her voice nearly gave way to the fear underlining her behavior. 

"Relax your shoulders, then." 

"Excuse me?"

"I feel your tension from here," he said with a flippant wave of his hand. "Even if I did bite, my teeth are rather flat, no?"

When she didn't respond, he turned. He flinched once more, struck by one of the daggers she was glaring into his head. He huffed, making some show of not looking away, pretending she wasn't scary. She was. Even seeing past the hardness in her silvery eyes- to her exhaustion- didn't change that.

Castel tilted his head curiously, fixated on her for a moment,  before shaking his head back to the bricks.

“It’s a spiral of names,” he started as if she’d asked. “Small, barely meant to be noticeable. Etched with an errant piece of metal off of one of my ancestors’ companions’ hands.”

Ancestors. The ones that truly existed were nothing but trouble. Bessba’s? Jackass. This guy’s? Forcing him into her church to look for more clues about his silly little existence. Those who could trace their lines like that- who knew that someone specific was responsible for them- were just so…

Annoying.

He traced his long, skinny fingers along the brick, continuing to talk to her (or himself, it was hard to tell) as he scooted further down the wall.

“It's supposed to be at about sitting height, thank goodness. It would be helpful if these walls weren't so dusty, but who am I to- oh!”

Castel's sudden noise and spring to action made Zippie jump. The purple grabbed a brush from his pocket, enthusiastically sweeping at a cracked brick near the middle of the wall. Zippie clenched her teeth, watching him with something beginning to approach curiosity. Some dusty graffiti was that exciting?

“Find what you're looking for, finally?” Zippie asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Shush- I mean yes, sorry, I just don't want the integrity of the brick to be compromised. Oh look at that, that must be all of them…” It sounded like he found what he was looking for. As much as she didn't want to turn her back to him, she had other things to do. He'd be done soon enough. Zippie turned back to her pulpit as he talked to himself, sketching in his notebook.

“Baclef of course, Payark, Sclera, Humera… Goz…. jam or is that silent? H sound maybe, Aarika-”

 Castel’s mumbling suddenly felt like a brick to the back of the head. For a moment she thought she misheard him, but the goosebumps on her arms were too solid for that to be the case.

“What did you just say?” she asked lowly, dangerously. She did not turn to face him.

“...Aarika? Sorry, I know I shouldn't speak that name too loud, but-”

“Before that.”

“Oh! Goz-Gozjam?” The sitting purple adjusted his glasses on his long broad nose. “Am I pronouncing that incorrectly?”

“No, you're not,” Zippie said before she could stop herself.

“Okay!” he said cheerily. He then paused and looked to the Undertaker, who'd turned to face him. The purple's fear of her had been overridden with curiosity. He looked at her, really looked at her and said:

“Your eyes… your pupils are teardrop shaped.” Given his tone, that meant something to him. Zippie hissed lowly behind her mask, straightening her posture further. He flipped through one of the weathered old journals he brought with him, but didn't look like he was reading it as he continued.

“‘It's a funny thing, seeing Gozjam with her eyes uncovered. Rare a sight as it is. So many of us have heavy eyes, it's the nature of our species, but the droop of her lids and the shape of her pupils truly ice the cake of her melancholy. Were she anyone else, I'd only call them droplets- but with her? To refer to them as anything but tear drops would do a poetic disservice to her character.’”

“Stop it,” Zippie ordered as he took in another breath to speak. He stubbornly opened his mouth again.

“‘It's a shame she has to hide them, and the unfortunate rest of her face. She is more lovely than-”

“I said enough,” she snarled this time. She felt something dangerous under her skin. Electric. Defensive. “Are you done over there? Did you get what you wanted? I didn't say you could be here all night.” He paid her bristling no mind, fully facing her on his knees. Examining her from his distance away. Seeing her.

“You don’t even know, do you?” There was something soft to his voice that made her want to punch him. “Anthem, my intention is not to distress you, but-”

“You’re failing, Baclef. I think it’s time for you to go.” It didn’t sound like she’d take arguing well. He sighed, glanced back at the wall, and began to stand. In that same instance, something dawned on her that turned her blood to ice- and her behavior violent. She tugged him up by the collar while he was still knelt down. Her eyes were wide now, showing off the entirety of those teardrops.

“What else does it say about her in those books of yours?” she asked with a panic that didn’t suit her. The rasp in her voice was more prevalent when she raised her voice like that, making her all the more terrifying. Castel stammered. He was unused to being roughhoused, even more so at this angle.

“N-nothing, they were friends that’s-”

“Physically,” she growled, shaking him again. He let out an honest-to-Messiahs eep. 

“He didn’t- tall? Skinny, robot arms-” Another shake interrupted him. He frantically searched his memory for the correct answer. When he looked her in her eyes, damaged red sclera and silvery pupils above a tight leather mask, it clicked.

“Oh, oh- nothing, nothing. I swear on my life he never described her past shape. It was a secret that he kept until they destroyed this place. I always thought it was rather obvious, since- ah!” 

Zipper shoved him back, looking like a snake about to strike. Castel dusted himself off, scrambling back towards the wall as she approached. Unbidden sparks lit up the rivets at the back of her neck, letting off small, ribbon-like bursts of electricity.

“I could be wrong?” he offered, clearly wishing he was less motor mouthed. “I could be way off. It doesn’t matter. Even if I knew I wouldn’t- I couldn’t. For the obvious wrong it would be of course, but-”

“But?” she said through clearly clenched teeth behind that zipper. Her sparking wasn’t getting worse, but it wasn’t stopping.

“...Our ancestors were friends.”

That stopped her in her tracks. The Undertaker swayed on her boots, clenching and unclenching of her fists without taking her eyes off of the heap of giant purpleblood on the ground.

“Get the fuck out of my church,” she said, something almost airy about her tone this time. The shift startled him enough to grab his things in one swift motion.

“Yes ma’am. Sir. I’m- I’m sorry.” Castel scrambled to his feet, still making her wince when he was drawn to his full height. He nearly dropped his books in his haste to leave.

“I’ll have, um, our mutual contact compensate for the trouble,” he called back as he strode towards the doors. “I really am-” He stumbled a bit over a piece of rubble that hadn’t been moved yet, making more of a show of leaving than this already was. 

Zippie stayed unmoving where he left her, staring at that corner of wall. The slam of the church doors woke her back up, and with a shake of her head she said:

“Annoying.”

[niffala]

I Quit (Pt. 7)

Warnings: some smut, some angst, noncon touching, dubcon oral, Ransom is his usual asshole self, the Thrombeys are horrible, being drugged, undressed and tied up, name calling, threats

A/N: Reader insert version found here.  The Thrombeys’ opinions are NOT my own.  Thoughts are in Italics. 18+ only due to smut and dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Chapter 6   Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist

Chapter 7

“I’m uncertain what exactly you are asking of me.” Harlan picked at the cuff of his shirt, awaiting his grandson’s explanation.

Two days ago, a pipe burst ‘unexpectedly,’ flooding Ransom's home. In lieu of a hotel, he decided to stay at the mansion while repairs were being made. Meanwhile, his relatives were getting ready for a week-long ski trip in the Berkshire Mountains to celebrate his mom’s birthday. The conditions were looking favorable. Hell, his father was so certain that everyone would be busy having fun, that he already paid for his current mistress to meet him there.

As tempting as causing some mayhem with his family and bedding a few snow bunnies sounded, his focus was solely on the seemingly unattainable chef. He had stolen a taste and craved more. It was time to switch tactics, no more messing around. He would get what he wanted.

When Ransom informed his mother he couldn’t go, claiming his recent hardship had caused him to come down with a cold, Linda sucked her teeth, told him he was acting like a baby and put the back of her hand to his forehead. A brief look of remorse crossed her face before declaring he clearly couldn't go in this shape. She then screamed for Fran, demanding hand sanitizer.

He could barely suppress his devious grin. Keeping up the act was easy. A heating pad to get his head burning hot, making sure to appear completely worn down and in pain. He’d pretend to blow his nose, stuff balled up pieces of tissue up his nostrils to sound congested. Force out a few coughs, wiggle his tongue on the roof of his mouth to trigger a sneeze. He had looking sick down to a science.

Ransom coughed into his fist. “You’re still paying her, you should have her cook for me in your absence. All that sumptuous food will surely help nurse me back to health. Plus I'll be here to watch over the place.”

“Please consider it. I’m too weak to even make my own toast. It's bad enough I'm missing the trip, don't let me starve.”

Harlan was skeptical, well versed in his grandson’s antics. Refusing to be swayed by the young man’s act of malaise. While true that he planned to allow Liz to spend the week off with pay, he had not informed her of the decision. Ransom’s pleas to not be deprived of her luscious creations were entertaining. He wondered what he was up to.

After some back and forth, they compromised. Liz would be paid for the entire week, but only be required to come in for a single day to prepare a few meals for Ransom to reheat.

Ransom nodded in agreement, already having visions of taking her under the wheel of knives. “That’s all I need.”

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

Elizabeth walked into the manor unsure why it gave her a bad feeling. Shaking it off, she convinced herself it was because the house was empty except for major asshole sick upstairs. She probably wouldn’t have to see him at all today. Just cook a week of meals and get the hell out of here. She hoped whatever was wrong with him made him miserable.

Making her usual pot of coffee, she got started.

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

“Wakey wakey.”

Elizabeth groaned as she attempted to open her eyes. The jarring light made her quickly squeeze them shut again. She turned her head into the pillow. The dull throbbing in her brain not giving her any incentive to try to get up.

“There she is. I was almost afraid I gave you too much. That would have been unfortunate.”

Ughhhh, why the hell is he here? Of course he’d show up when I already feel like shit.

Feeling too groggy to deal with him immediately, Elizabeth began to stretch, preparing herself to beat his ass. Something pulled painfully at her left wrist, not allowing her arm to move. Opening her eyes, she could make out the shiny metal binding her to the bed.

“What the fuck?” Elizabeth tugged at the handcuff, willing it to release her. Confused and pissed off, she searched for Ransom. Even with her vision blurry around the edges, she could tell this was not her room.

She followed the sound of his wicked chuckle until his blue sweater came into view. He stalked around the large bed, amused at her current predicament.

“Let me go, asshole!”

A chill came over her as he passed. Looking down, she was alarmed to find herself without a stitch of clothing on. Elizabeth clamped her legs shut, throwing her free arm over her breasts.

This can NOT be happening. I’m going to fucking kill him.

Ransom’s handsome cocky face appeared above her, unabashedly devouring her with his eyes. “I don't think I will. I went through a lot of trouble to get you here, good thing you still need that morning caffeine fix.”

“You drugged my coffee, you fucking psycho?”

He shrugged, “Guilty as charged.”

Disappearing for a moment, he returned, holding a glass to her lips. “You’re gonna need this.” Noticing her hesitation, he swore it was just water. Satisfied as she cautiously sipped it.

When she finished, he set down the glass and climbed onto the bed. Running his fingertips down her side making her squirm. “I prefer you like this. No knives, no boiling pots, just you and me.” His eyes darkened with promise, “And I'm looking at the only thing I want to eat.”

Elizabeth wanted to tear his eyes out. She tried to slap his hand away without exposing too much of herself, “Get your perverted hands off me, undo these cuffs and give me back my clothes. NOW!”

“Your anger is a real turn on.” He smirked, running his thumb over her bottom lip, “Let this be a lesson to you…”

“I always get what I want.”

Ransom pulled her arm away from her chest, biting at her inner wrist. He crawled on top of Elizabeth, pinning her arm next to her head. Effectively caging her with his body, he placed soft kisses to her neck, quickly turning ravenous.

She didn’t want to be feeling these things. Elizabeth’s stomach fluttered and her heart beat faster. Words failed her, lost in the sensations his greedy mouth provided. She did her best to show no reaction, but the goosebumps on her skin and her quickened breaths betrayed her. The effect of his touch was undeniable.

Taking his time to reacquaint himself with her breasts, his wandering fingers glided over her nipples. Moving his kisses down between her tits, as his hands caressed them. Lifting his head, he blew air across her nipples until they hardened.

He placed his large hands over each breast, massaging and squeezing them together. Increasing the pressure until almost painful. His rough actions in contrast with the softness of the pampered pricks hands.

The flick of his tongue over each nipple had Elizabeth clenching around nothing. An involuntary whine escaping as the wet appendage traced her areolas. Using his hot breath to further stimulate her peaks, he sucked one into his mouth, simultaneously pinching the other. Ransom alternated his licks and sucks between both breasts while she futilely attempted to resist.

Her skin was on fire, all her senses intoxicated with her tormentor. She swallowed as he moved down her body, leaving a burning trail with his sinister mouth and hands. He spread her legs with little resistance, settling between them like this was his personal throne.

First exploring with his fingers, he gently rubbed her clit with his thumb. Elizabeth gasped and tried to close her legs. Ransom swatted them back open and lowered his chin to rest on her mound, waiting for her to match his gaze.

It took a moment for her to look down, greeted with his beautiful blues staring back at her. The sight of him between her legs making her weak. His eyes carried a mischievous glint as he lowered his face. Her breath caught in her throat when he eagerly lapped and sucked at her folds. Dragging his tongue down and around, dipping into her opening. Licking teasing circles around where she needed him most, gently flicking his tongue on her bud before repeating.

Any remaining fog Elizabeth felt disappeared as he took her apart piece by piece. Her free hand found its way into his hair, holding on for dear life. His tongue wiggled itself fully inside her aching hole. She cried out in surprise when he sucked as much of her into his mouth as he could. A loud satisfied hum sending ripples through her, electrifying every nerve.

Releasing her, Ransom licked his lips and dove back in for more. His hands moved from gripping her thighs to kneading her ass as he continued to expertly suck and lick at her most sensitive areas. Devouring her like a fine meal.

“Say my name, Killer.” He commanded, softly licking her clit up and down.

Her toes curled, “Oh God!”

“Close. Try again.” His tempo increased.

“Hugh”, she taunted, pulling on his locks.

A slap to her cunt made her gasp. She gave in, “Ransom.”

Satisfied, Ransom sucked on two of his fingers, smiling at her before slowly, maddeningly inserting them in her dripping pussy. Slightly curling his digits as he pumped them in and out, he continued using his entire tongue to lick from her opening to her clit.

She wrapped her legs around his shoulders, silently begging for more as she grinded against his face. Her hand squeezed her right breast as the sweet pressure built. Ransom reached out to grab her left. Elizabeth’s back arched more and more as her thighs began to quiver.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

The dam burst. Her body felt like it was levitating as she came with a shriek, collapsing in a boneless heap.

Withdrawing his fingers, Ransom slid up her body. Grabbing the back of her neck, he pulled her into a kiss, possessing her breath. To his sheer delight, Elizabeth held his cheek, deepening the kiss, entwining their tongues in a dance of dominance.

Suddenly, she broke contact by putting her hand over his mouth. “Get me out of these so I can return the favor. You won’t regret it.”

His eyes lit up. Pulling the key out of his pants pocket, Ransom excitedly unlocked the cuffs. She took a minute to rub at the freed wrist before encouraging him to lay down. He spanked her juicy behind as they switched positions, making her laugh.

Elizabeth wasted no time pulling his clothes off. Kissing him hard and groping every part of him she could reach. He felt as amazing as she imagined.

“I knew you wanted me. I knew it, I fucking knew it.” Ransom was elated at the turn of events.

Tearing off the black boxer briefs, Elizabeth marveled at his impressive cock. Fully erect and begging for attention, it made her almost forget she shouldn’t sink down on and ride him into next week.

She grinned at him as she closed the handcuffs on both his hands, securing him to the bed, “Fair is fair.”

“Kinky slut.” Transfixed on the gorgeous smile directed at him, Ransom submitted to her game.

Pressing her lips to his one more time, she began kissing down his neck, leaving a few love bites. He yelped when she tweaked both his nipples. Forgiven with giggles because she looked so hot worshiping his body. Ransom closed his eyes in pleasure.

Elizabeth paid special attention to his chest and abdomen, sucking as many hickies as she could. He wantonly moaned each time, encouraging her to mark him, make him hers. She had to admit she was loving having control over him. His desperate sounds making her drip.

Parting his thighs and kneeling between them, she scratched down both of his strong thighs causing him to hiss. “Eyes on me, baby, you don't want to miss this.”

Ransom watched with interest as her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking the firm velvety length. They locked eyes as Elizabeth gave it a long lick. Lowering her mouth over the crown, she started swirling her tongue around, gently sucking the head before pulling back.

Gathering saliva in her mouth, she swallowed him until he bumped the back of her throat. Gagging slightly, she pulled away. Elizabeth smiled coyly, tickling his frenulum with the tip of her tongue. Taking a deep breath, she firmly grasped the base, repeating her previous action. 

Gently sucking as he slid in and out of her mouth, she used her other hand to carefully fondle his balls. Ransom praised her, his head falling back onto the pillow, eyes falling shut again, relishing in the wet heat of her mouth.

Elizabeth increased her rhythm until Ransom was a panting mess above her, every muscle in his body tense. She switched to pumping with her hand, “You close, baby?”

“S-s-so close.”

She gave another lick…

Then pulled away, sitting back on her heels.

It took a few seconds before Ransom’s eyes popped open, “Why'd you stop?”

When she didn’t respond, he grew concerned. “What's wrong?… Killer?”

“I changed my mind,” she shrugged. “I quit.”

He nervously chuckled, “You can't do that. Babe, come on, stop playing around.”

Elizabeth got off the bed, standing with her hands on hips, staring at him in all his glory. Sighing she shook her head. “What a pity? If you weren't such an asshole…. Oh well.”

She picked up his sweater from the floor, putting it on. His pants and socks followed. His shoes were far too big, but better than nothing. She brandished the key she found, then repocketed it.

“Thanks for the orgasm, but I have better places to be.”

Ransom flipped out, yelling and calling her horrible names. Struggling against the handcuffs with all his might.

She just smiled, “Let this be a lesson to you.” Taking a few steps towards the door, his voice made her pause.

“Killer, Killer, come on, let me go,” he begged. “I’ll forgive you, okay. Shit got out of hand. We don’t have to do anything else. I won’t tell anyone. You won’t tell anyone. I’ll leave you alone for good. You can’t leave me like this. Just help me out of the cuffs, please.”

Wow, he said please. That must have hurt.

Elizabeth observed him for the last time; naked and handcuffed, chest polka dotted with marks and bruises and impressively still hard and begging. What a state. She felt oddly proud of her accomplishment.

“Sorry, I don't work here.” Cracking up, she turned and walked out the bedroom door, waving goodbye.

Making a small stop in Harlan's office, she could hear ransom struggling upstairs.

Poor baby.

The rush of cold air hitting her face as she left was invigorating. Feeling alive and determined, she walked to her car with a confident gait. Before taking off, she flipped off the house.

So long, assholes.

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

Ransom was beyond livid after suffering the humiliation of being found like THAT. He’d been trapped for two days before Fran came by. She had to call someone to come over to cut the cuffs off. He could tell the housekeeper was barely holding in her laughter at his predicament. Even threatening her job and her life didn’t stop her from leaking the information.

Currently he was sitting in his grandfather’s office. Harlan summoned him there, but had yet to speak to him directly. Puttering around, apparently too busy to enlighten Ransom as to why. The longer he was made to wait, the more irritated he got.

Finally Harlan addressed his grandson, “It was quite an unpleasant surprise to come home to my chef’s resignation on my desk. Less surprising was your involvement in her decision.” 

Upon reading the letter when he returned home, Harland immediately phoned Liz to get the full story. He apologized to her several times, as she did to him as well. He let her know of his disappointment to see her go, and that him and his stomach will miss her terribly. She thanked him for the opportunity and friendship. They parted ways on good terms.

Staring down Ransom, he picked up the phone to call Alan. Instructing him to send his former chef her last check with hefty severance pay and that he would be including a glowing recommendation. Smiling as he spoke, watching his grandson ball his hands into fists, his jaw clenching and eyes ablaze with fury. It was so easy to ruffle his feathers.

Ransom flew out of his chair, knocking it over, going nose to nose with Harlan. “You’re giving that little bitch that much money. Are you out of your fucking mind, old man? You should be calling the cops, not rewarding that slut.”

His grandfather’s amused smile only furthered his anger. “You are my family. You should be supporting ME… You are nothing but a filthy traitor… You set me up, didn’t you?” The accusation rang true in his brain so he clung onto it. He would not stand for this betrayal.

Harlan found the act of intimidation humorous. He would not back down from rubbing the embarrassing blunder in his grandson’s face. “You’ve been harassing this young woman, drugged her, kidnapped her…”

Ransom interrupted, rolling his eyes, “It's not kidnapping if it's in the same house.”

“…bound and sexually assaulted her. And you're mad she got the upper hand?” Harlan threw his head back with a barking laugh. “If she was still on the payroll, I'd give her a raise.” He continued to laugh in Ransom's face. “You are a paragon of foolishness and pride. Do not think I will forget what you have cost me.”

“You will regret this. Just wait.” Ransom stormed out of the office, taking his rage out on everything he saw. 

By the sound of it, Harlan would have to repair a few things once Ransom was done with his tantrum. Turning his chair to face the window, he watched the falling snow. Lamenting the loss of a wonderful employee, he looked forward to supporting her on her next venture. She was going to go places. He would see to it. 

His grandson on the other hand, well, he was going to have to practice some tough love with him. Harlan’s soft heart decided to let Ransom cool off first. Big changes would come soon enough.

The End

A/N: A special thank you to everyone that has read this. I appreciate you all and I’d love to know your thoughts.

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

i wonder what happened for ursula and elisaria's marriage to go wrong

It's a good little story, so I'll tell you, dear anon!

To begin with, their marriage had the honeymoon period. But that was mainly because Elisaria completely changed her personality to fit with Ursula. She got active because Ursula was active. She read books because Ursula read books.

Problem is, no-one can hold up a facade of who they are 24/7 for very long and eventually Elisaria stopped pretending to be interested in those things. The other problem was that Elisaria didn't really have a clue what she did want to do instead - she was so used to being a Lady-in-waiting and following after Colette, she had never really developed her own interests.

In the end, her interest became her children. She was the ultimate helicopter parent over her first baby (who died as an infant) and then even more helicopter over Isabeau.

Ursula, on the other hand, believed child-rearing should be left to the professionals and much preferred being out and horse riding or in and reading. This didn't destroy their marriage, but it did cool things and mean that they spent a lot less time together.

The event that destroyed their marriage was the Crusades. For three straight seasons (those damn dice...) Ursula was away fighting in the crusades. At the time she left, Elisaria was pregnant with Cassian and his twin sister. Elisaria didn't mind being alone too much and dedicated all her energy to raising Isabeau and Cassian (his twin sister died as an infant).

While Ursula was out on the Crusades for the final time, the Great Revolt occurred. Ursula witnessed Wilkin take charge of nearly the entire army. It turns out that, for a very, very long time, Flori and Tate had been raising the orphans in their care as spies and spellcasters, planting them in the Crusade army and giving them Potions of Rejuvenation to keep them young and alive while they swelled their ranks. Wilkin took the charge of all of these orphans, turning on the British army and fighting to take back the Magic Realm. It was the bloodiest battle Ursula had ever seen and she barely made it out alive.

When she returned home, her trust in Elisaria was destroyed. She refused to believe that Elisaria had no idea of Wilkin and Flori's plans - after all, Elisaria had been close to Flori and had been the one to push for Ursula to use her connections and have Wilkin made a general in the Crusades.

The fighting was intense and both Isabeau and Cassian were old enough to watch and understand that their parent's marriage was over, even if they would never divorce.

But - a fractured couple living under the same roof can still have slips and there was one night that the two of them slept together. Ursula fell pregnant. Perhaps this could have been the beginning of them repairing their relationship, but Ursula and the baby died in childbirth so Elisaria never had the chance to try.

[imagineanime2022]

Work Hard

Chuya Nakahara X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1362

Requested: Anon

Request: Part 1 Part 2

You had been working hard after the incident with the guild, it seemed that you had more work than any of the others, there were many weapons lost and so many more that needed repairs or ammo that needed restocking, the paperwork was immense. You worked hard even borrowing USB drives from Chuya to store and send everything that you needed to. Now Kajii had presented you with another weapon that the mafia could use and you had every intention of presenting it to the executive at the meeting the following day.

That morning you woke up with a headache and likely a fever though you never actually checked, instead you went into the base as normal and tried to pretend that you weren’t sick. The first person to realise there was something wrong was Higuchi who ran into you on the way to meeting up with Aktuagawa. “Hey are you okay, your face looks a little red.” She frowned as she stopped to talk to you. “I’m fine.” You answered “nothing to worry about.”

The next person to realise was Hirotsu, it was just before the meeting you went up to the roof to have a cigarette, Hirostu was already up there in the middle of his cigarette as well, you had just managed to light yours when a dizzy spell took you and you stumbled slightly the cigarette slipping and burning your hand “Hey are you okay?” He asked as he walked over to you “do you have a fever?” He’d been around since you joined the mafia and he knew you well, you looked sick, but much like everyone that you had spent your life around you hid it. “I’m fine.” You answered and he looked at you as you walked away only to catch you walking straight into Koyo. “Are you okay?” Koyo asked as you looked at her. “Hey, why'd you get the same umbrella as Koyo…Chuya.” You frowned, confusion clear on your face, Koyo looked at you before looking at Hirotsu who signalled that he thought that you were sick, you blinked at her a few times before realising it was Koyo “I’m sorry.” You said quickly before disappearing off of the rooftop and back into the base.

The meeting was long and you could barely concentrate on anything that was said “(Y/N) I believe you have a new bomb to present.” Mori said as he turned to you, you stood gathering everything that you needed for your presentation, if you were looking you would have seen Mori realise that there was something wrong with you though he wasn’t sure what yet. Your presentation moved forward at a confusing and unfocused pace, at some point a dizzy spell caused you to clutch the bomb that you were holding tighter than you should have and activate it, you didn’t notice. “Hey, is that a fake bomb?” Chuya asked. “No it’s real…” You answered, Chuya looked at Koyo as both their eyes widened at the revelation as fear started to rise through them, you looked down at the bomb you were holding and realised the beeping in your hand was coming from the bomb and quickly diffused it. “(Y/N) take a seat, Chuya you’ve seen this weapon as well?” Mori asked. “Yes sir.” Chuya nodded. “Please continue the presentation.” Mori ordered, Chuya stood up making sure you got back to your seat before he finished where you left off. The meeting ended after that but you were still a little hazy. “(Y/N) follow me to my office.”

Once back in Mori’s office he checked you over, he found your fever and stood in front of your arms crossed “you shouldn’t have been working with a fever this high.” He scolded you. “I’m fine.” You argued. “You need to go home and rest, if you don’t I’ll be very disappointed in you.” Mori informed you with a small smirk on his face as you looked at him, in your state he was sure that you weren’t going to pick up on what he was doing or even fight him on it.

You headed back to your office to collect all of your things and your eyes landed on the USB on your desk and you stopped. Chuya was supposed to be going on vacation so you needed to drop it back to him. You grabbed the USB and made your way to Chuya’s office. You knocked on the door and he called you in “I wanted to give this back to you, since you won’t be here tomorrow.” You said as you walked towards the desk putting the USB on the table. “Oh thanks, you could have given it back some other time, are you okay?” He asked, frowning. “I’m fine…Mori wants me to go home. I have a small fever.” You explained, you were about to change the subject to his holiday when another dizzy spell took over and you stumbled before completely blacking out, your head hit Chuya’s desk hard, he flinched at the impact before getting up and rolling you onto your side so that he could see the damage. “Tch, Dammit.” He cursed as he noticed the small cut on your head.

After calling for help to get you back to your apartment Chuya takes the rest of the day off to look after you, he started by cleaning your apartment, it seemed that between working and getting sick you hadn’t had the time for home maintenance and so between changing the flannels on your head and checking to make sure that fever wasn’t getting worse he cleaned. Later that even Chuya thought that it would be safe enough to leave you alone for the night however as he turned to leave he heard you mumbling as he got closer he started to make out what you were saying “I’m sorry Oda, I'm sorry Boss, I never meant for this to happen, Dazai please… Please don’t leave me! I don’t want to be alone.” Chuya bit his lip, it felt like he shouldn’t have heard that, he had never actually seen you sick and now he didn’t feel like it was right for him to leave so instead he sat in front of you on the sofa, he took your hand and he waited for you to wake up.

The next morning you woke to the sound of someone moving in the kitchen, you assumed that it had to be someone taking advantage of your condition so you pulled out your knife and staggered towards the kitchen, but what you were faced with was not what you thought it was. Chuya was in the kitchen making Okayu, it seemed that he must have heard you moving because he wasn’t surprised by your presence behind him “there’s no need for the knife, just eat something okay?” He asked as he held the bowl towards you before helping you back to the sofa where you could eat. “Mori ordered that you take 2-3 weeks off to make sure that you get better.” Chuya watched as you slowly tried to eat what he had given you, only taking a few mouthfuls before you stopped. “Why were you working so hard? You know you can just ask for help, that's what our subordinates are for!” “Don’t yell at me, I'm sick! I just didn’t realise.” You answered as he stood ready to help you get cleaned up when he remembered what had made him stay in the first place. “Hey, did you have another nightmare?” He asked, you had told him about them before, he knew that they had gotten bad, you needed sleeping pills to help you sleep. You looked at him as if you were thinking about something before you nodded. He walked over and crouched in front of you. “I know that you don’t want to talk about it but I promise no matter what I’m not going to leave you.” “Thank you Chuya.” You said softly, thankful that he hadn’t asked what happened in your dream. “Now let's get you cleaned up so you can rest more comfortably.” He said helping you towards the bathroom.

*Part 2*

Request Here!!

[star-going-supernova]

Silly prompt: Gregory's first day at school

You say silly, I say EMOTIONAL DAMAGE. :)  Takes place in a vague, unspecified AU that follows standard post-pizzaplex adoption rules.

One Last Time

Vanessa put the car into park, and for a moment, they both watched the stream of students heading into the building. Even from the drop-off zone, she could feel the first-day jitters and excitement bubbling out of them. Old friends greeted each other, new ones were introduced into established friend groups. Most of the kids looked to have put some effort into their appearance, and the shiny new backpacks were innumerable. 

“Well,” she said, not at all choked up. “Get out there, squirt.” 

Gregory rolled his head against the seat to level an unimpressed look at her. “What an enthusiastic send-off.” 

She huffed and wrestled her seatbelt into allowing her enough slack to lean over the center console. It’d taken some getting used to, suddenly having a kid, but Vanessa thought she’d done a pretty good job adjusting and just not screwing up beyond repair. And part of that meant figuring out where they stood in terms of parent-child affection.

Despite his groans, Gregory obliging tilted closer, head bowed so she could press a kiss to his bangs. “Gross,” he complained, but the telltale tiny smile and shine in his eyes said otherwise. 

“Now, unless you want me walking in with you—”

Gregory flailed himself out of the car, just barely remembering to grab his backpack. 

She rolled the passenger side window down before he even managed to shut the door. “I see how it is,” she said, faux wounded. “Can’t wait to get away from me, huh?”

“It’s nothing personal, Ness,” Gregory snickered. She doubted he’d ever call her mom, but she was okay with that. Ness… felt right, coming from him. 

“Have a good day at school, sweetie,” she simpered. 

He stuck his tongue out, hiking his backpack onto his shoulders. Her gaze drifted back to the school for a moment, then to the rest of the parking lot. She was just another parent dropping her kid off for his first day of a new year. Not too long ago, she never would’ve guessed this would be even a possibility for her, much less a fond reality.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” 

Vanessa dragged her attention back to Gregory, who leaned against the passenger door expectantly. 

Her nostalgic mood took hold of her again. She stared at him, and it felt like only yesterday that they’d first met in the pizzaplex. And now here they were, and there he was. 

From a feral ten-year-old to the seventeen-year-old standing before her. He hardly looked different at all, just taller and less scrawny. A scar from his misadventures followed the curve of his jaw, edging onto his cheek; she could still imagine the bandaid he’d had over it after it was first made. His hair was just as messy, though the blue streaks hadn’t fully grown out yet, leaving him with faded ends. 

Hell. Her kid had grown up on her. This would be his last first day, a senior in high school. She wouldn’t be there for his first day of college, so it wouldn’t count. 

Remembering her line, she huffed out a little laugh and tried to pretend like her eyes weren’t welling up. “I shouldn’t need to remind you,” she said, her voice come out a little thicker and shakier than she’d have liked. Gregory, all teenage charm, shrugged one shoulder, grinning. But his eyes were soft, and she knew he felt similarly. “One last time, yeah? You can take the gremlin out of the ’plex, but that doesn’t really change that he’s a gremlin.” 

Vanessa bit her lip, chuckling. “Don’t go biting anyone, munchkin,” she recited, just as she had every first day for years. 

He straightened, comfortably leaning an arm against the roof of the car. It wasn’t a small car either; he’d shot up like a weed once he wasn’t halfway malnourished. But he didn’t snark back about the inches separating them, nor did he comment on the two rogue tears that had escaped Vanessa’s self-control. 

“I make no promises,” he recited in turn. 

Laughing, Vanessa shooed him away and listened to his cackles as he loped off down the sidewalk with the stride of someone who’d grown up around Roxy. He careened into his friends, throwing his arms around their shoulders. They slowly migrated toward the doors as a group, but she didn’t move to drive away. 

Just before Gregory, taller than most of his peers, could disappear into the building, he turned on his heel and waved one arm enthusiastically, high above the crowd. And Vanessa, who had long ago succumbed to his gremlin-ness rather than try to make him unlearn it, leaned on the car horn in return. 

The dirty looks were so worth it when it left her with the image of Gregory throwing his head back with laughter over the startled jumping and shrieks.

[dontyoufinditstrange]

The Lumineers Lyrics That Alter My Brain Chemistry

Flowers In Your Hair

"romanticized the time i saw flowers in your hair" "it takes a boy to live, it takes a man to pretend he was there" "its a long road to wisdom, but its a short one to being ignored" "be in my eye, be in my heart" "so now i think that i could love you back, and i hope its not too late cause you're so attractive" "cause it takes a man to live, it takes a woman to make him compromise"

Classy Girls

"classy girls dont kiss in bars you fool" "i belied it was as if something drew me closer to her lips"

Submarines

"no one knows the truth" "if it was a bigger fire i would be on the roof"

Dead Sea

"new york had lied to me, i needed the truth" "and i don't gamble, but if i did, i would bet on us" "you'll never sink when you are with me" "i was born to be your dead sea" "you told me you were good at running away" "would you stay with me? would you stay the night?"

Ho Hey

"i belong with you, you belong with me" "love, we need it now"

Slow It Down

"i feel a filth in my bones" "the walls they're closing in with velvet curtains" "some love was made for the lights, some kiss your cheek and goodnight" "act like you've been here before" "these boys are out for blood tonight" "and when she stood she stood tall. she'll make a fool of you all" "she ain't got nothing left for you" "and when it came to love, we were not good enough" "only love can dig you out of this"

Stubborn Love

"she'll lie and steal and cheat and beg you from her knees. make you think she means it this time" "she'll tear a hole in you, the one you can't repair" "but i still love her i don't really care" "its better to feel pain than nothing at all" "the opposite of love's indifference" "i'm standing on your porch screaming out" "and i don't blame you dear for running like you did all these years" "i never trusted my own eyes" "keep your head up, keep your love"

Big Parade

"and the beauty queens with the white gloves all sick from the night clubs, they wave with pageantry" "the violent men who dance the blood ballet" "there's hell to pay and hell to raise" "torn between romance and jesus" "burn the car and save the plates" "she's arrived, my saving grace"

Charlie Boy

"love should make you feel good" "and sons rebelled while fathers yelled and mothers clutched the cross"

Flapper Girl

"cut off all of your hair, did you flinch did you care?" "i'll never leave you again" "would you write would you call back baby if i wrote you a song?" "i need you at home" "lovers come, lovers go, lovers leave me alone, she'll come back to me"

Morning Song

"all i tend to do is think of you" "when all the trains have pulled away from local stations in decay, its i who waits, its you who's late again" "did you think of me when you made love to him? was it the same as us? or was it different? it must have been" "when they go, they're gone, they're not running late" "its a shame that it ends this way, with nothing left to say" "when my hands begin to shake, when bitterness is all i taste, and my car won't stop cause i cut the brakes, i hold on to a hole in my fate" "may you return to love one day" "i hope and i pray that you get what you gave"

[williamkergroach55]

Chapter 4: Meeting Baqir

Two days later, after a deep sleep lasting over a day, Liang woke up feeling drowsy and stiff. Kabul's suffocating heat began with the sunrise, causing Liang to sweat profusely. He took his time to eat and drink, savoring a delicious sesame seed naan and hot black tea. Then, he endured a painful hour of stretching and exercise to repair his body, which was battered by lack of sleep and days of hardship on rough roads. The small room where he stayed had a worn-out carpet and a wall adorned with improbable colors. Liang was far from home, and only the surroundings seemed unchanged.

Once ready, he tried calling Baqir, but unfortunately, there was no answer. Two hours passed without success, and then the line appeared to be out of order. Liang called for a taxi. The bustling and dusty streets of Kabul were filled with colorful vehicles, rickshaws, cars, and struggling motorcycles. Street vendors offered juicy fruits and exotic spices, filling the air with enchanting aromas.

Determined not to waste any more time, Liang decided to go directly to Baqir's address. They had to pass through Taliban checkpoints, but the atmosphere was calm. Men in plain clothes, armed as they might be, let the taxi pass without trouble. Liang didn't attract attention. The dusty, old Korean model taxi made strange noises as it rolled on the bumpy city roads. Liang had seen worse.

After an hour's journey, the taxi searched for another hour to find Baqir's exact address. Several times, the driver had to get out and ask people in the neighborhood. Traditional mud-brick houses with clay roofs lined the narrow alleys, creating a mysterious maze. The streets were adorned with shops bearing signs in Dari, offering products ranging from Persian carpets to handmade jewelry.

Finally, the taxi arrived at a deserted street off Kardoshman Road. Liang had finally found Baqir's address. He got out of the taxi and asked the driver to wait. He knocked on the rusty iron door, but there was no response. He knocked again, but still, there was no answer.

Pretending to return to the taxi, Liang made it stop two hundred meters away, after turning the corner. He discreetly sat on the ground, hidden in the corner of the alley. The walls were covered with colorful graffiti, a testament to the artistic vibrancy despite the troubled times.

As expected, after about thirty minutes, a man came out. He seemed anxious, looking around with apprehension. He didn't notice Liang, who had hidden behind an old gasoline can. When the man moved away from the door, Liang ran up to intercept him. "Baquir?"

The man was caught off guard. Liang knew it was him, Baqir. "Why didn't you answer?" asked Liang. Baqir remained silent and hostile. "I came, as agreed," insisted Liang. Baqir finally confessed, "I can't help you. There are complications." Liang pressed on, but the man grew impatient, pretending to dismiss him. This young man had the typical attitude of those corrupted by war, full of energy from partaking in the countless schemes that an army, spending millions of dollars a week on prostitutes, drugs, and various contrabands, offered to young people who came to fight and occupy a country uninvited. Liang knew this well.

He was furious. He had traveled thousands of kilometers to help Wazhma, and now this young jerk was telling him he couldn't help her leave the country anymore. "Nobody informed us of a change of plans," objected Liang.

The man finally said, "I can't help you, man, I told you. There are complications."

"I traveled thousands of kilometers to come here. I came to help Wazhma leave the country."

"She's not leaving anymore, you understand?" The man walked away in anger.

Unfazed, Liang approached him again. "Nobody informed us of a change of plan."

"Well, that's how it is, my friend. Now, get lost!" The man tried to push Liang, but he pounced on him, choking him on the ground, delivering knee blows to his chin before pulling him up.

Without saying a word, Liang forced Baqir to go back to the house's door, twisting his arm. "You bastard, you're going to explain yourself..." Liang forced Baqir to open the door. There was a courtyard, and he brutally pushed Baqir towards another door, smashing his nose against it.

Baqir was now panicking. He pleaded, "Wait, wait, calm down. I'll explain..." But Liang wasn't listening. He pushed Baqir inside, hitting him. In what seemed to be a living room, Liang violently pushed Baqir towards the room, making him fall brutally to the ground.

As Liang was about to hit him again, Baqir screamed, "Wait, wait, I'll explain!"

"I want you to call the girl and put her on the line. Now."

"I can't, there's no way to call her."

Liang approached, threatening. Panicking, Baqir cried, "Wait, wait, they don't want to deal with me anymore. I'll give you the number, you call and see."

Baqir quickly went to another room, a bedroom, to fetch the number. A young woman was hiding there, terrified. The room's walls were adorned with traditional Afghan tapestries.

Ignoring the young woman, Liang grabbed the notepad from Baqir's drawer and dialed the number. A woman answered, "? سلام." Liang replied, "Hello, are you Wazhma?"

"Mmmh? What do you want with her? Who are you?"

"I am Liang, the man coming to get her."

"Who gave you my phone number?"

"I came from China to get her out; her uncle asked us to help."

"Ashraf? I... I didn't ask for anything!"

"I traveled thousands of kilometers to come to Kabul. I am here now."

"Listen, nobody asked for my opinion. She's not leaving! Leave us alone!" She hung up.

Liang was devastated. He had made this whole journey for nothing. Cao would be furious. The Triad stood to gain immense profits from these precious stones. If the girl didn't leave alive, it could be understood, but Liang had to return with the precious stones, "a lot" of precious stones.

Liang had no choice. Baqir had to explain the situation and help him.

Seeing Liang's gaze, Baqir understood he had to cooperate. "It's Wazhma's aunt. She doesn't want her niece to leave. She especially wants to keep the stones her brother entrusted to her before leaving. She's the one blocking everything."

"You're going to take me there."

"But no, it was never agreed that I'd go there!"

Baqir received a swift kick to his thigh. He collapsed. Liang's hand was on his face to offer more "affection." "OK, OK, I'll take you there!!" he mumbled.

"Where's your car?"

"It's my brother who was supposed to..."

"We're going."

Baqir had just enough time to say "yes." They were already leaving.

Baqir's brother lived a little over a kilometer away, in a fairly upscale villa. Baqir, followed closely by Liang, explained the situation. Liang didn't speak Dari well, but he understood that Baqir's brother wanted nothing to do with it. Liang intervened. When Baqir's brother received five or six very painful and debilitating blows, he no longer had any objections. Liang turned to Baqir. "Let's go."

The car was a Toyota Tacoma, with off-road tires. It was a perfect model, reliable and sturdy for mountain roads. It looked like equipment modified for the needs of the American military, confirming Liang's thoughts about Baqir. These people must have profited greatly during the American occupation of the country. Baqir sat in the passenger seat, silent. Liang ordered, "Grab a weapon or two and take the wheel." Baqir got out of the car and, followed by Liang, went to "wake up" his brother to ask for a weapon. He went to get one, with Liang close behind. As the brother was about to choose, Liang took an AK47 and a Type 54, a Chinese semi-automatic pistol. The weapon was known to be solid, and the 9mm cartridges were easy to find. Liang demanded cartridges for both weapons, taking everything available, ignoring the furious look Baqir's brother gave him.

Seated in the car, Liang noticed a switch under the steering wheel. This confirmed his suspicions: it was an American car. It must be a switch to disconnect the brake lights for the Rangers' nighttime missions. The car was still too clean for Afghans.

Liang ordered Baqir to head to Wahzma's house. He slipped the "Black Star," the nickname the Chinese mafia gave to the Type 54, into his belt. "Baqir," he said, "you'll take me to Wahzma's house. If there's the slightest problem, a bullet will be for you, understand?"

"Yes. But I don't know the way there very well..."

The comment was received with a slap to the face. "Tell me what you need to tell me about the situation, Baqir..."

#Chapter4 #MeetingBaqir #Kabul #Afghanistan #Taxi #Rickshaws #StiflingHeat #Naan #BlackTea #Gymnastics #DefunctRoads #SlimPad #ColoredTags #AnimatedAmbiance #AmbulatingSellers #ExoticFruits #Spices #RoadBlock #Taliban #Weapons #AK47 #Type54 #Norinco#GunTrafficking #Triad #PreciousStones #FamilyDrama #RaceAgainstTime #DangerousTravel #Mysteries #ChineseMafia #BossedVilla #ToyotaTacoma #Interrupter #Rangers #NightMission #WazhmaHouse #Threats #Completions #Suspense #Thriller