#-looks over at Ms. ‘i have a right to kill and eat my own dog if i want’-

[clanoffelidae]

This whole thing really has made me think about Just How Many people I’ve met through fandom DISCORDS specifically that tried to gaslight me/my friends like damn what’s in the water man

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

At 11:08pm In The Music Room, I Was Saved (Part 2)

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Part 1

A/N: second and last part, lovelies. Thank you again anon for this prompt (I may have, once again, deviated from your original idea bear with me), and thank you @venablemayfairgoode for helping me figure out the end (tw: the death of a dog is mentioned :))))))) ). As always, English isn’t my first language. x

Word count:  ≈ 7 000

You were so fucking pissed. Also, you couldn’t stop crying. The world had ended on a beautiful late spring afternoon and now, for some reason, you were trapped in a gloomy building with people you didn’t know and the woman who had broken your heart bossing you around.

And the worst was, you had been so relieved to know she had survived. And you shouldn’t have. But the tears you had cried on the plane to Outpost 3 had not only been for your family and friends; they had also been for her. They had mostly been for her. And you hated yourself because of that.

She looked different. Her clothes were darker, her hair was darker, her eyes were darker and they were glazed. They looked as if they were made of stone. Tourmaline maybe. Something bad must have happened to her, but you decided you didn’t care. Bad things had happened to you, too, and one of them she had caused.

“There’s been a mistake,” she said, voice very deep and very slow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you sobbed.

“You were assigned at Outpost 2.”

You were so mad at her. Had she done this? Ripped you from your family and sent you to this dark place to spend the rest of your life consumed by grief and guilt and hatred? She couldn’t have done this, she wouldn’t have done this but then again and was that panic in her eyes? It was gone before you had time to take a good look at it, but you knew her. You knew how to read her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, as if you had chosen to, as if it had been your decision.

“Because some rude guys barged into my flat and shoved me into a plane,” you sobbed, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. “I don’t want to be here,” you repeated.

“You should’ve been sent to Outpost 2,” she said. She was trying so hard to hide the confusion from her face, but you saw it, and you saw that flash in her eyes again and it was panic.

Suddenly it hit you: how could she know where you should have been sent? How could she –

“Did you…” It was hard to speak. Your throat was too tight. Your eyes widened with horror, and hers hardened. “Are you the reason why I’m here?”

You were vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was staring at you and Wilhemina. You should have felt ill-at-ease, should have felt shy. But all you could feel was anger.

“I don’t want to be here!” you cried again, but this time it was fierce. This time it was a cry of rage.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the ground. The sound echoed off the walls.

“Better sad than dead,” she said coldly. And then she proceeded to ignore you as she explained the house rules.

You barely heard what she said. You were burning, and you couldn’t stop your tears from falling. This was not happening. You were in a dream. You would wake up and everything would be alright. You would count to ten and the nightmare would end.

You counted to ten. It didn’t end.  

What you did hear of Wilhemina’s speech sounded ridiculous. No technology? No sex? Death punishment for intimacy? People basically being your slaves? Her eyes were too cold. They were glazed. This wasn’t the Wilhemina you knew. The Wilhemina you knew had used cruelty for protection. This one used cruelty for fun.

A few people protested, but the protests didn’t last long. This Wilhemina was just as scary as the one you knew.

And then she was leaving, to the sound of her cane, every tap a stab to your heart. A Grey led you to your room and you collapsed on your bed, hugged your pillow, and cried.

The next few days you didn’t leave your room often. You felt so empty. You spent most of your time lying on your bed and grieving the people you had lost. You got up for lunch and dinner. Sat at the table and stared at your plate as the others tried to make small talk. The food cube had no taste. It felt like jelly in your mouth. You hated it. You hated having to swallow it. You hated how it never soothed the hunger in your stomach.

You sat on the left side of the table. Wilhemina sat at the head of it. The light from the candles would glint off your food cube and fork. Coco sat on your left, a girl named Mary on your right. Coco would do most of the talking. Complaining, really. Sometimes – but only sometimes – you would glance in Wilhemina’s direction. Once or twice, she met your eyes. Hers were cold and like a black hole.

After the first week your tears finally subsided. You spent more time in the music room with the others, playing board games, reading, talking. Coco was a bitch, but she made you laugh, and you soon befriended the girl named Mary. She was about your age, was very shy and didn’t speak often. She kept in her pocket a photo of the dog she had owned and loved more than anything else, a small, sweet thing with big black eyes named Sam.

You didn’t know how Wilhemina spent her days. You barely ever saw her. You could forget her, you thought, if you didn’t dream of her every night. You would forget her if only your stupid heart would stop skipping a beat and break into a gallop every time you heard the familiar sound of her cane, letting you know she was coming, she was coming! in a second you would see her and be near her and hear her voice. You would forget her if she wasn’t your first thought every damn morning when you woke up. If when she was near you, you didn’t feel like you were burning and suddenly became aware of every single sound that was her, the rustle of her dress, her breathing, her heart beating, her eyelashes fluttering, everything.

You barely ever saw her, but when you did, time stopped, and it lasted forever.

You fell into a routine. Aimless, dreary. Getting out of bed every morning. Eating your food cube. Making small talk with the other residents. A teary-eyed Mary showing you her picture of Sam. Trying not to think, not to remember. It went on like this for a week and a half, until two Greys were found having sex and were sentenced to death.

It was Mary who told you the news, just before dinner. At first you thought she was joking. But then every soul at the Outpost was talking about it and even Coco seemed scared.

You didn’t know the Grey girl, but you had spoken to the boy once or twice. His name was Mark. He smiled at you every time you would meet him in a corridor.

You ate your food cube in complete silence and shock. When dinner was over, when Wilhemina stood up and walked off, you didn’t think. You stood up, too, and followed her.

She didn’t become aware of your presence until she was halfway down the corridor to her room. You saw her slow down, come to a halt. She tapped her cane on the floor, then turned on her heel.

Time slowed down. You noticed every detail, even the smallest ones. The way the candlelight glided over her cheekbones as she turned. You were still so attuned to her, every inch of her.

You stopped breathing as her eyes locked with yours. And it would have been so easy, to take a step forward, to wrap your arms around her waist, to pull her close and go back home. It seemed her eyes were pleading you to do just that.

But then she blinked, and her eyes turned cold. Glazed. Tourmaline. You felt your body stiffen.

“May I speak to you?” you asked, almost a hiss. Then you added, “Ms Venable.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at you, raised her chin. “I do not care to hear what you have to say,” she said coldly.

You took a step forward and snarled, “I will say it. You can either listen to me here, or in your room. Office. Whatever.”

Her nostrils flared, and for a second you thought she was going to slap you. You had seen her slap some of the other residents who had dared question her rules. That was one of the things the new Wilhemina had no problem doing.

But she merely nodded, almost imperceptibly, and led you to her room.

You tried not to look. At the bed, perfectly made, at the pillow where she laid her head every night. At the vanity where she did her hair and make-up every morning. All the small rituals you knew so well.

It hurt. Merely standing there in her room felt like someone was crushing your heart between cold fingers.  

You came to a halt in the middle of the room and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. Wilhemina stopped in front of you, rested both her hands on the head of her cane.

How did she look so different? Why was her face so hard and so cold? She reminded you of the ancient statues of Greek or Italian gods. The powerful, lifeless stare. The dangerous power. How she could destroy you – how she had destroyed you – with one word or one tap of her cane on the floor.

You searched her face for the light, for the fear, for the love, the shyness and the boldness, the desire to be completely, truly seen and loved. You found nothing.

“Well?” she asked, annoyed, after a while.

You cleared your throat. “I heard you’re gonna have Mark and that Grey girl executed tomorrow morning.”

“You heard right,” she mocked.

You cleared your throat again. Your right hand twitched at your side. “Why?”

She made an annoyed noise. “You know why. They didn’t follow the rules. They put their own little disgusting needs first and compromised the group. We cannot have more mouths to feed.”

“Disgusting needs,” you repeated automatically. You took one step towards her and raised your head defiantly. “I don’t remember you calling sex ‘disgusting’ when we were doing it.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something that almost looked familiar.

“Don’t be crude,” she hissed.

“You cannot have those two Greys killed,” you went on, ignoring her. “That’s murder, Wilhemina.”

Her name dropped from your mouth before you had time to think. You paused. She didn’t react.

“I know you’re better than that,” you added, taking another step towards her. Closer. You wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed to you she was leaning forward, forward – towards you. It seemed to you her eyes flicked to your lips.

How you had missed her. How you missed her still. How you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and demand an explanation as to why she had destroyed your world, stolen all the stars from your night sky. How had she dared, who did she think she was, and what had happened to her that had stolen all the light from her eyes?

“For God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you cried when still she didn’t react, didn’t speak, didn’t move, “you can’t kill two people for being in love!”

“Why not?”she hissed, low and dangerous, like a snake.”What’s so special about love?”

“You know what’s so special about love. You felt it.” A pause. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. You may think you were good at hiding your feelings, but you weren’t.”

Wilhemina’s gaze hardened. “Those two Greys will die tomorrow at dawn,” she answered emotionlessly.

You raised your hands in frustration. “What’s wrong with you?” you cried. Again, she didn’t react. Her silence only fueled your anger. “If you do that,” you went on, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from yelling the words, “if you have them killed, you’ll be walking down a path I cannot follow you on.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess you don’t care. Who am I kidding? You don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You made that clear months ago. But ask yourself this question, Wilhemina: will you be able to sleep knowing you’ve killed two innocent people?”

Oh, she would. Without a doubt she would. She knew it and you knew it and you saw it on her face. Yours turned sickly pale.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lowering your head in defeat. “Okay. I – you know what, I –“ You met her eyes again. “I don’t even know how I could fall in love with you in the first place.”

She swallowed, but her face remained blank. But that familiar something flashed in her eyes again, something sad, that looked almost like the Wilhemina she used to be.

You knew confronting her would likely make her shut down. You knew that. But you were only human, for God’s sake, and you had been hurt and betrayed and it was a well-known fact, that anger was stronger than Man.

So you took yet another step towards her and clenched your fists.

“I have questions,” you growled, “and you’re going to answer them. Why am I here? What made you think you could dump me with no explanation? Did you even love me, or was it all a game to you?”

By the end of your little outburst you were breathless, and Wilhemina, the Wilhemina you had tried to reach and caught a glimpse of, had been roughly locked away.

“Say one more word,” she enunciated, glazed, empty eyes staring right into yours,” and I’ll have you arrested and whipped every day until you meet your pitiful end.”

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off. “Don’t forget who you are, Y/N. I’m the only one who has authority here. If you question me or my rules again, I’ll make sure that insolent tongue of yours is nicely severed from the rest of your body. And don’t think I won’t enjoy watching.”

Your whole body was shaking. But it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage, and with something else you didn’t like at all, for that something else was love. Love that was terrified and aching because this wasn’t her, this wasn’t right, and part of you desperately wanted to make it right again.

Someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened.

Don’t, you screamed at Wilhemina in your head. Ignore whoever it is. Talk to me. Let me in, let me help you, let me –

“Yes?” Wilhemina called.

The door opened, and Mary shyly stepped into the room. “I, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in her sweet, low voice. “But, um, Y/N, I need your help with something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you asked her, your gaze not leaving Wilhemina’s face, your voice shaking, your body shaking with rage and love and ache.

“Obviously it cannot,” Wilhemina answered, eyes boring into you. “Or else little Mary wouldn’t have been brave enough to push that door open.”

Mary shot her a scared glance and immediately lowered her eyes again.

Send her off, you begged Wilhemina. Make me stay.

Her gaze was too intense, it was too cold, too dark. You lowered your head and turned to Mary.

“I lied,” Mary whispered once she had closed the door behind you two. She glanced up at you with a smile. “I don’t need your help with anything. I just thought I should come and rescue you.”

You swallowed. Your body was still shaking, and you couldn’t unclench your fists. “Right.”

“I heard her threaten you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you retorted sharply.

Wilhemina wouldn’t hurt you, you thought. She had only tried to scare you, to push you away. She would never carry out her threat.

But then again. You didn’t know what this new Wilhemina was capable of. Fear vaguely sang in your chest. Maybe she had meant every word.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you,” Mary was saying, “please tell me. I’ll be happy to listen.”

You thanked her, told her you wanted to be alone, and went to your room.

**

Wilhemina had decided the execution would be public to set an example. All the residents of Outpost 3 gathered in the music room and the two Greys who were to die were ordered to sit down on their knees in the middle of the room. They were both crying. Pathetic. Weak. Wilhemina looked down on them and smiled to herself.

A guard walked in with a gun. The Grey boy whimpered.

Someone – the hairdresser – mumbled something, a protest probably, but he was too scared to say it loudly. The old lady who had once been a star nodded at Wilhemina and gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Wilhemina ignored her.

You were standing in front of her slightly on her left, by Mary’s side. Wilhemina was trying not to pay you attention, but somehow you were the only person she could see.

You spent an awful lot of time with Mary, she had noticed. Laughing together, talking together, napping together. Good thing for you. Mary was just the type of person who would treat you right. She’d be kind, and happy, and healthy, and enough.

The Grey boy said something, pleaded for his life, probably. Wilhemina didn’t care. She didn’t listen. She nodded to the guard, and he crossed to him, holding the gun in front of him.

Wilhemina saw Mary grab your hand, saw you touch your shoulder to hers. Oh, you would be alright.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes had started to sting. Her hands were shaking. She willed them not to. They would not stop.

The guard raised his gun, pointed it at the Grey boy’s head, but Wilhemina didn’t see him, not really. She saw you turn your head and look at her, your eyes glossy and pleading, your hand holding Mary’s, and Wilhemina took a sharp intake of breath and felt tears pool in her eyes for she had loved and loved you and she had lost you. And now she was losing you again.

But she couldn’t go back, not now. She would lose her authority, she would be laughed at. And besides, she didn’t want to. This execution was the right thing to do. It would make everyone at the Outpost fear and respect her. They would bow their heads to her and they would hate her but they would never, never laugh at her.

There was a low but fierce shout, “Stop!” Your voice.

The guard lowered his arm slightly. He looked at you, confused, then at Wilhemina, awaiting orders. You stepped forward, letting go of Mary’s hand, came to a halt as if you weren’t sure what to do. A second passed. Then you crossed to Wilhemina, cupped her face in your hands, searched her eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

Something inside of her melted. The warmth from your touch and the warmth from your voice seeped into her and turned ice into water. The water washed down everything and left her insides dripping wet and glinting in the sun like after a hurricane.

You had spoken too low for the others to hear, but they saw the change on Wilhemina’s face. They saw her eyes widen and the light weave in as if she had opened a blind to let the sun in. They saw life and emotion settle back on her face and soften it.

For the first time since the world had ended, since you had walked into this music room sobbing and looked up and met Wilhemina’s eyes, you found her again. And you fell in love with her all over again.

You tried to give her a smile, and it was small and quivering, but it was genuine. It was fond. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as she searched your eyes, wondering, hoping, and when she blinked a tear rolled down her cheek and you caught it with your thumb. You were crying, too, but you smiled again, stroke her cheek. You felt the tension leave your shoulders.

The gunshot echoed off the walls as loud as a crack of thunder. It made everyone in the room jump. The Grey girl screamed as Mark slumped onto the floor at the guard’s feet. The guard moved his hand, pointed his gun at the girl and pulled the trigger.

The second gunshot was louder, somehow. It deafened you and left a ringing in your ears. Your hands fell from Wilhemina’s face as you both turned to stare at the two corpses. Blood slowly pooled around them and shone faintly in the candlelight.

The guard met your horrified gaze and shrugged. “Following orders,” he said nonchalantly. “It was taking too long.”

Wilhemina was staring down at the two dead bodies with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she looked up at the guard, and her eyes were glazed again.

“I didn’t order you to shoot,” she said coldly.

“You did,” the guard argued.

“She told you to stop,” Wilhemina said, nodding at you, her voice growing angry now.

The guard shrugged again. “I only take my orders from you.” He raised his gun and held it to his chest, a defiant look in his eyes.

Someone in the room was crying softly. You didn’t know who. Your mind had gone numb.

Wilhemina turned away from you. Slowly, regally, she walked to the corpses, her dark, glazed eyes fixed on the boy’s head. She stopped in front of him and tapped her cane on the ground. Then she gave orders to carry the corpses outside and burn them.

Dinner was silent that night. You swallowed your food cube and drank your water. You couldn’t look at Wilhemina. Coco tried to diffuse the tension with a few sly remarks that made some of the residents laugh nervously. When dinner was over, you excused yourself and went to your room.

You lay on your bed and prayed for sleep, but sleep, unsurprisingly, didn’t come. You turned and turned until you gave up. You sat up with a groan and buried your face in your hands.

Blood, slowly pooling. The two bodies, not moving. Wilhemina’s eyes, widening. A tear rolling down her face, that you caught with your thumb. You couldn’t chase those images from your mind.

It hadn’t been her fault, not really, you told yourself. She would have spared them in the end. You knew it. Without a doubt.

You buried your fingers in your hair, dug your nails into your skull. She would have spared them, for the Wilhemina you knew had come back, if only for a few seconds – and she had been hopeful, and you had been, too.  

And you knew you should still be mad, you knew it was too early to forgive her. But you were ready to surrender and fall back into her arms the second she’d want you back. If she ever decided she wanted you back.

There was a whisper, in your head, that assured you she did.

At 11:00pm you gave up on trying to sleep. You got up and went to the music room, hoping someone would be there and would like to talk to help you pass the time. Maybe Coco, for she would make you laugh. Or Mary, for her kindness would soothe you.

There was only one person, and it was Wilhemina. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. You thought it was because of annoyance, or disappointment maybe. Bullshit, your heart told you. She had been the one you had wanted to find.

Wilhemina was sitting in an armchair, her hands resting on the head of her cane, her eyes fixed on the fire. She raised her head when she heard your footsteps, and met your eyes.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, not unkindly.

“There’s no curfew I know of,” you replied, probably too sharply, but Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then resumed her staring at the fire.

For a minute you hesitated. Going back to your room was the wisest and safest option. But before you had consciously taken your decision, your feet moved towards Wilhemina. A moth drawn to a flame. Always, when it came to her.

You sat on the armchair opposite the hearth from her. For a long moment there was only silence. The fire crackled lazily and warmed you up.  

You glanced up at Wilhemina, only to realize she was staring at you. You quickly lowered your gaze, nervously shifted in your armchair, then glanced at her again.  

The expression on her face wasn’t closed, you noticed. There was a wistfulness to it, some sprinkles of curiosity, too. You felt hopeful again.

“So,” you said, assuming a casual tone as if you two were having a friendly conversation in a bar, “what’s your plan in the long run?”

Wilhemina watched you for a few seconds before she answered. Her voice was emotionless. “The Cooperative should contact me soon enough with new instructions.”

That’s not what you had meant. You had meant about her and you. But you let it drop.

“So you’re still following orders, uh?” you taunted. “I thought you were the only boss around here.”

“This is bigger than this outpost,” Wilhemina replied coldly. “This is about building a new, better world, where everyone is at their rightful place according to their worth and abilities.”

“What is my rightful place in this new world, do you think?” You waited, but no answer came.”What is yours?” you tried again. “Let me guess. You are the feared, hated leader. Making sure everyone respects you, making sure everyone survives. Noble work, but it sounds awfully lonely. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in somebody’s arms every night?”

Wilhemina’s expression hardened. She kept silent, which surprised you, and averted her eyes from your face to stare at the fire again.

You watched her. You watched the shadows the flames threw on her face. Followed the arch of her brow, the line of her mouth.

Had she done something to her hair, or was it the dim light? It was darker now. She had let you dye it once when you two had been dating. You had frowned at the smell and coughed and splashed the walls with tiny dots of orange. Wilhemina had tried to scold you, but she had burst into laughter instead, her hair piled on top of her head. She had let you wipe the dye splatters from her face and tuck her hair in a shower cap. And while the dye processed, she had sat on the couch reading and you had rested your head on her lap and grinned at her.  

Wilhemina cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.

“What you said earlier, did you really mean it?” she asked in a low voice, still staring at the fire. “Or were you only trying to save the Greys?”

You leaned forward, digging your elbows into your thighs. “I’ll answer that once you’ve answered my own question. Why did you leave me?”

A pause. An annoyed look.

“Because I felt like it,” Wilhemina replied.

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Because you felt like it?” You shook your head, anger rising in your chest. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask it again. Why did you leave me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve just told you why. It’s not my fault you’re too proud to accept it.”

“Why did you leave me?” you repeated, clenching your fists.

Wilhemina made an angry noise. She tapped her cane on the floor, then slowly stood up. You jumped on your feet and followed her when she crossed the room and turned right down a corridor.

“Did you wake up one morning and realize you didn’t love me?” you called, as she opened the door to her room. You stepped inside after her. “You’d had your fun, but now it was time to plan the end of the world? Uh? Do you have any idea,” you growled, voice growing louder and angrier, “how it felt to watch you leave without even knowing what I did wrong?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Wilhemina said, voice quavering.

“Then why the fuck did you leave?” you growled, taking one step toward her. “Tell me! For fuck’s sake, I deserve an explanation!”

She couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. She was staring at the floor and her breathing was quickening at it always would when she was trying not to cry. And suddenly you were in the company of the Wilhemina you knew, the one you loved, the one who didn’t think she should be soft and kind but was still willing to try, for you.

“Elijah came to see me,” she answered, so low you barely heard it.

“So what?” you growled. “You fucked him and realized he was your one true love?”

She winced, and you bit your cheek, thinking that maybe you had gone a bit too far. But she deserved it, part of you thought. She had hurt you too badly.

You waited, but she didn’t add anything after that. So, rage beating inside your chest instead of your heart, you strode to her and planted yourself right in front of her, fuming, and she flinched but held her ground.

“Tell me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Why did you leave me?”

She drew in a breath, turned away from you and crossed to her chest of drawers. You were about to yell at her when she opened one of the drawers, closed it again. She crossed back to you and dropped something into your hand.

A lighter. Small and black and plain. You stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“What…?”

Wilhemina had never been good with words. But when you two had been dating, she had been willing to open herself up to you in any way she could. Actions sometimes were easier, she had found.

You glanced up at her, then back down at the lighter in your palm. “I don’t understand,” you said.

Wilhemina had averted her gaze from you again. “I couldn’t pick it up from the floor,” she whispered brokenly.

It didn’t hit you all at once like a revelation. Instead it felt like something spreading inside your head. A bubble. Slowly inflating until it burst.

“What?”

Somehow, it was the only thing you could say.

Wilhemina squared her shoulders, raised her chin, built up her walls. She met your eyes and glared.

“You got what you wanted. Now leave before I feed you to the monsters outside.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but instead you burst into tears.

Your chin dropped to your chest and you sobbed, as Wilhemina stared at you in shock. She extended one hand towards you, hesitated, changed her mind. Her brow pushed up in confusion and concern as she waited for you to calm down, dying to touch and comfort you, but not daring to. She had lost you, after all. She hadn’t been enough.

Some people are just too fucked up to be loved, Elijah had said. She could hear his voice now as if he were saying it again, remembered his exact intonation, the way he had pronounced every syllable.

“It’s alright,” she tried after a little while. “He was right.”

“Who was right?” you sobbed, wiping your eyes.

“Elijah. I did the right thing for you.”

That made you burst into tears again. Except this time, you wrapped your arms around Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her close.

She stiffened against you, but you buried your face in her chest and held her tight and cried and cried at how blind you had been. Your heart broke, but this time it didn’t break for you. It broke for her. For how low her self-esteem was, how she had tried over and over again to be kinder and softer and yet had still been convinced loving her was a burden. Loving her had been the best thing in your whole goddamn life.

Tentatively, Wilhemina slipped one arm around your waist and rested her chin on top of your head.

“I’m gonna bring Elijah back from Hell and kill him,” you mumbled against her chest.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Wilhemina replied. “He was right. All he did was love you so much he only wanted the best for you.”

You shook your head, wailing as Wilhemina brought her free hand up to your head and started stroking your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina’s fingers stuttered in your hair. “What for?” she asked, and you couldn’t see her face but you knew what her expression must be like right now, brow pushed up in confusion, eyes wide as she tried to think of something to say or do to help you calm down.

You sobbed against her chest and tightened your grip on her. “I’m so sorry he did this to you and I let him.”

“I don’t –“She paused, hesitated. “I don’t understand,” she breathed after a moment, which only made you cry harder.

You felt her body stiffen again. “No no no, please don’t cry,” she pleaded. Her hand hovered over your head, afraid to touch you now. “I’ll stop talking, I’m sorry, I’m going to shut up. But please don’t cry.”

You clung to her, clutching the back of her dress, wishing that you could… you didn’t really know what. Let her creep inside of you, let her nestle by your heart so the outside world could never hurt her ever again.

When you had calmed down enough to speak, you asked her what Elijah had told her exactly. You wanted to hear every word, so you could erase them from her brain and replace them with words of truth and love.

You had expected her to refuse, to shut down and keep silent. But to your utter surprise, she let out a shaky breath, pressed her cheek against your head, and started to speak.

It was barely a whisper, and at first she paused and hesitated every second or so; but then, words poured out of her, ashamed and painful. You closed your eyes against a fresh wave of tears as you listened.

It didn’t last long. When she was done, her whole body slackened and you tightened your grip on her, afraid she was going to collapse on the floor. She didn’t, though. She nuzzled your hair and sighed.

She hadn’t broken up with you because of you. She had done it for you. Or at least, she had thought so. And it made everything worse, for you had said hurtful things to her. Accused her of things that had never even crossed her mind. Rubbed salt on the wound.

Not your fault, said a voice in your head. You hadn’t known.

After a quiet moment had passed, you took a deep breath and pulled away. Wilhemina let out a faint noise of protest, but you cupped her face and locked eyes with her.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe,” you whispered, offering her a small, teary smile, “I’m the only one who can decide what and who’s enough for me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes widened a bit. You gave her another smile, then let go of her face and looked around the room.

“You said Elijah told you you could never be enough for me and you believed him,” you said, gathering unlit candles in your hands. “I know this kind of thoughts don’t go away easily. I know it takes time and work. But let me show you something.”

You came to a halt in front of Wilhemina and held out the lighter. She glanced at it, then met your eyes, frowning. You leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as you pulled away.

You smiled. “Let’s pretend these candles are my heart. Shush, let me finish. Sit down. Let me show you how you light up my heart.”

You set the first candle down on the bedside table. “Remember the day we met at the supermarket? I was blocking the aisle with my cart and you snapped at me. Told me my ass was too big for this world.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “My life was so boring before that day. I hadn’t realized it, but it lacked challenges, it lacked passion. It’s like my brain was asleep, and with just a few words, you awoke it.”

You flicked the lighter and lit the candle. The flame flickered, then grew. You glanced at Wilhemina, gave her a smile.

“Remember the first time we made love?” Wilhemina’s eyes were riveted on the burning candle. You bit your lower lip, set a second candle on the chest of drawers. “You were so nervous, and you tried to hide it, but Mina, honestly, I can tell you now, you weren’t very successful. You thought you would hurt me or not know how to pleasure me. Remember how many times you made me come that night? You’re a great lover, Mina. And you sure have talent in these fingers and tongue of yours,” you teased. Wilhemina’s eyes, wide and shining, flicked to you. “But do you know what you’re even better at? The way you take care of me after. The way you cannot seem to be able to stay away, how you always snuggle up to me and hold me and ask me if it was good.” You lit up the second candle.

You took a third one, put it on the floor by the door. “Remember my birthday?” you went on. “I’d spent the last one alone. You brought me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and a cake.”

“I ruined your birthday cake,” Wilhemina whispered sadly.

You shook your head, flicking the lighter again. “But you bought it. For me. To celebrate me.”

You crossed to the other side of the room, set two candles on the vanity. “I don’t know if you’re even aware you did it, but you’d always fluff my pillow when you’d make our bed in the morning. You’d never fluff yours. Only mine.”

Wilhemina let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“It’s only one example of all the things you did that made me feel so loved. Like how you’d always buy pears even though you don’t like the taste of them, just because you knew I do. Or how you read the whole of War and Peace just because I said it’s one of my favorite books. That’s more than a thousand pages, Mina.” Your voice broke as your lips parted on a smile. “You didn’t even think it was that good. But you read the whole thing. Valentine’s Day. You said you hated Valentine’s Day. You bought me flowers and chocolates and tickets for Carmen. Front row center seats, Mina.”

You were crying again by now, but these tears were happy. You set the last candle by the bed. “You made sure I’d survive the Apocalypse. It was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure it was you. I used to be mad at you for having saved me but left all my friends and family to die. But you saved me. Gave me another chance at life. Because you still cared about me.”

Wilhemina sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. You walked around the bed and took her hand.

The whole room was studded with bright, dancing dots of light, as if you had stuck your head into the night sky. Wilhemina’s hand was shaking, but she laced her fingers with yours and gave them a tight squeeze.

“So, you see,” you whispered, “see how bright you make my heart shine.”

A sob pushed out of Wilhemina’s throat. She wrapped her free arm around her waist, hugging herself as she cried. You leaned towards hers, bumping her shoulder with yours. For a while she didn’t move; then she, tentatively, laid her head on your shoulder. And then, as you did not protest, did not push her away, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.

Her hand cupped your face and her mouth crashed against yours as she sobbed and you sobbed and kissed her fervently back. How you had missed this. How you had missed her. One of your arms wrapped around her shoulders to press her closer still, tongue sliding inside her mouth. You were shaking, entirely too hot and so, so alive.

Something seemed to break loose inside Wilhemina. She let out a noise like a whimper, and suddenly she was crying over and over again “I’m so sorry” and “please” and “don’t go”. You pulled away slightly, cupped her face to make her look at you.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered. “I forgive you.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief as another sob pushed up her throat. “But what about Mary?” she hiccupped.

You frowned, stroking her cheek. “What about Mary?”

“And what about the two Greys?” she went on, voice growing frantic and breathless. “What about the rules? I’ll hurt you again, I’ll hold you back, I’m too fucked up –“

“None of that,” you shushed her gently.

“But I –“

“No.” A kiss on her mouth, slow and sweet, meant to reassure. You tugged softly at her lip, and she moaned, dug her fingers into your skin. She let out a breath that went all the way down into your lungs, and sank into you.

After a moment, she rested her cheek on your shoulder and opened her eyes to look at all the lighted candles. You held her, stroking the nape of her neck, rubbing circles on her back.

The candles were burning. They lit up the room.

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[chrisevansszn]

Valleys and Mountains Pt 2.🏔

1.5k words

Link to Part 1!

What to do? You love Chris, but you don’t think he can correct this. An affair for an entire three months. How did you miss all the signs? You have sex with him a few times a week, you tried to be the best wife you could…how did your marriage get here?

***

“Chris & Y/N, thank you for coming in today. This is a place where you can express exactly how you feel. Now, who wants to go first?”

“I will.”, Chris said. “I think a divorce is the best option.”

Your head swiveled so fast in his direction. The nerve of that son of that bitch! The doctor saw my face and had to take control.

“Ok Chris. You said that very quickly and without hesitation. Are there any other steps before we pull the plug on this marriage?”

Chris rubs his beard aggressively. You turn your body forward and stare out of the window in front of you. It’s raining cats and dogs outside. You stand up.

Chris and the therapist look at you.

“I need a minute please.” You walk out of the room and down the hall. You just needed out for fresh air. Therapy was the worst decision you ever made. You could hear footsteps coming down the hall; you turn around to see Dr. Grant.

“Are you ok.”

You took a deep breath.

“Yes, I am ready to continue.” You walk about to the room with Dr. Grant.

Chris didn’t even look your way. You guys have a mountain to climb.  

“Ok now. Chris you said you thought that divorce was the best option right now. Can you elaborate on that?”

“Sure. Yes, I fucked up big time. I cheated, but I vowed to put my marriage first because I realized that I made the worst fucking mistake on Earth. Then to find out that my WIFE wanted to get even and decided to go out and fuck some bum ass dude!”

You turn to Chris. “Sounds like we are even to me.”

If looks could kill, you would be a dead woman.

Ok yes, you did cheat on Chris after finding out about his affair, but he started it.

You were out shopping at the mall when a man approached you.  He was tall, about 6ft 3in, nicely tailored suit, and smelled excellent. His said his name was Jason and he owned business building homes. Very impressive. You chatted with him for a few minutes. He had to see you wedding ring. He asked to exchange numbers but that was too much for you. You put his number in your phone and said you will be in touch.

Maybe…maybe not.

You went a couple of days thinking about Jason, but you were so scared to reach out. You and Chris were in separate rooms and are avoiding each other as much as possible. He knew you needed sometime to yourself. After a couple of weeks, you send Jason a text message.

“Hi Jason. This is Y/N the lady from the mall from a couple of weeks ago.”

He responded very quickly.

“Ms. Y/N. I didn’t think you would reach out to me. I’m very happy you did!”

OK…that was nice. You two continued to text well into the night. Asking each other questions and getting to know each other. You finally looked at your clock and it was 2:17 a.m. You text Jason goodnight. You knew you were playing with fire, but you wanted more.

The next morning you woke up to a good morning text from Jason. Well, alrighty then!

You were in your bathroom getting dressed when you heard a knock at the door. It was Chris. He had such a pathetic look on this face. The cheating absolutely hurt you but him telling the girl that he was going to leave you for her….that’s what hurts the most.

You stand up straight and look at Chris.

“Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Can we sit and talk tonight?”

You take a deep breath.

“What are we discussing?”

“Us. I am a mess without you. I can’t sleep, I’m barely eating, and I just want to lay next to you and hold you.”

“That last part isn’t happening. We can discuss tonight.”

He nodded his head and walked out. You picked up your phone and sent a good morning text back to Jason. You finished getting dressed and headed out for work. The day went by super-fast, maybe because you were texting Jason the entire day.

You made it home dreading to hear what Chris possible has to say. You got out of the car and grabbed your things and walked inside. It smelled really good. Did Chris cook? You turned the corner to the kitchen. Chris is standing there in your apron. You shook your head and giggled, not too hard though.

“Welcome home.”

“Thank you.”

You set your things in a kitchen chair.

Chris made some shrimp pasta, a garden salad, and garlic bread. It wasn’t too bad. He really can’t cook. He made you a plate and pour you both a glass of wine. This is the first time you have been face to face with Chris in about 3 weeks. It was extremely awkward. You both eat in silence for a few seconds.

Chris sat his fork down and sat up.

“YN, I know I have fucked up really bad. I can’t express how embarrassed I am that you have to go through this, how sorry I am for stepping out of our marriage, and how stupid I realize I am for what I’ve done.  I am willing to do any and everything that you ask of me to make you love and trust me again. I’m very serious.”

You drink from your wine glass.

“Is that so? Anything?”

“Anything baby, I promise.”

“I want to meet her and ask any question I want to.”

Chris turned pale in two seconds.

“You want to meet her?”, He could barely get it out.

Fuck no, you didn’t!!

“Is that a problem?”

“Y/N please. I just want move forward.”

“Clearly you didn’t mean ANYTHING.”

Chris put his face in his hands. Finally, he looked up.

“No.”

“No?”

“No. That is giving her power.”

You took another sip of wine.

“You know what. I had no plans on actually meeting the girl. It was a test to see how far you would go with “anything”. Dinner was good.”

“Why are you playing games?”

“Me…playing games?”, you laughed.

You then stood up, guzzled your wine, and headed to your bedroom. WHAT A JOKE! You ran yourself a bubble bath and put on some relaxing music. You floated away into a head space far from reality…..that included Jason. You pick up your phone and sent a flirty text.

You two went back and forth sending text and then you went for it.

“Can I see you tonight?”

Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

He stops replying! Oh my God!

“Sure. Where?”

Whew thank goodness! You decided on a park that’s far from your home. You got out and decide to take even further by sending him a nude pic. Now, there is no turning back!  

You threw on some yoga’s and a top and took off your wedding ring. You didn’t want to make a scene leaving the house. You grabbed your keys and wallet and walked out the door. Chris was sitting on the porch having a beer.

You looked over at him.

“I will be right back.”

He nodded.

You jumped in your car and headed to the park. Jason was already there when you pulled up sitting in his truck. You got out of your car and got in his truck. You gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi beautiful.”

“Hi. How are you?”

“Better now.”

You instantly leaned in for a kiss.

“Oh, it’s like that?”

“Very much so.”

You and Jason made out for a few minutes and then you climbed on top of him in the driver seat. You begin gyrating on this dick and you felt it grow. Is that what you want to do? If you do this….you aren’t any better than Chris.

Jason took out a condom and held it up. He gave you “are you sure?” look. You took the condom out of his hands and opened it. Jason sat up and slid his pants down, and then you took your pants off. You put the condom on Jason and sat down on his dick nice and slow.

There is no going back now!

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[uwuwriting]

How they propose w/ Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Kuroo

Request: Oikawa, kuro and iwa proposing to their long term girlfriend??? -anonymous

Hi it’s me back again. *if anyone knows from which song this is I’m gonna give them a cookie no cap*. I’m back with another one and this one is just the cutest thing ever. Oikawas’ is a little dumb and goofy but I believe he would do something like that. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules 

warning: fluff and some dorkiness. 

Oikawa Toru

-Okay so he is obsessed with tik tok....and his proposal kinda made it on tik tok. 

-Its a nice cutesy proposal I swear he’s just overly proud of himself. 

-You had just moved in with him in Argentina. 

-Somehow you managed to get a job in your field in the town next to his place so when you told him that well you were moving to Argentina he didn’t hesitate to ask you to move in with him. 

-He misses you way too much, the distance makes it hard for him to feel your comfort. 

-He would never dream of breaking up with you; he would make it work even if it killed him.

-So it’s been a month and a half of living together and he is in heaven. 

-He knew that he wanted to marry you for some time now. 

-Since that moment at the airport the day he was leaving. 

-Iwaizumi was there along side Matsu and Hanamaki. 

-The three dumbasses were bawling their eyes out while you were semi chocking him. 

- “Call me when you land okay? I wanna know how jet lagged you feel.” 

-The sad smile on your face was enough to make him spill them tears, a sad smile of his own taking its seat on his face. 

- “You’ll make fun of me again.”

- “It’s part of my duties as your girlfriend you beautiful dumbass.” 

-And right there with you hands on either of his cheeks and tears in your eyes he knew that he would wife you up. 

-Now he has been planning this for some time. 

-He went all the way to California to find Iwa so they could pick a ring together.

-Both of them needed a ring but anyways.

-After obtaining the ring....he hid it for a few weeks. 

-He would wake up everyday ten minutes earlier than usual and just ask you to marry him while you were still asleep. 

-Once he was satisfied with the amount of times he has said it he gets up and is out the door. 

-He took you to meet his team.

-he wanted to do it then but he chickened out. 

-So what does he do? 

-He sulks on tik tok. 

-Until he comes across a video of a girl stepping into the shower with her boyfriend and pretends that she wants to ask him something important. 

-Of course that was a very dumb way to ask you something so big but he got an adrenaline jump and five minutes of dumb courage. 

-He sets up his phone right outside the shower curtain and just walks in with you. 

- “Hi?!”

- “Hi”

-*giggles* “Can I help you mister?”

-And here is where things take a turn because doubts start to make their way into his head and his palms are getting sweaty-

- “Toru love are you alright?”

- “Marry me.”

-The video went viral, the squad clowned him until your first child was born and your kids laugh with the story till this day. 

Iwaizumi Hajime 

-Unlike his best friend he took this wayyyy to chill. 

-It popped up in his head one night before one of your visits. 

-His roommate had asked him why he stayed in a long distance relationship. 

- “Is she really so worth it man? You could have a chick in your bed every night and not wait for her visits every three months.” 

- “You cannot imagine how worth it she is.”

 - “You sound like you wanna marry her dude.” 

-And from that point on he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

-Sure he had imagined your future before.

-The house you’ll have and where he would like to go on your honeymoon, what your kids might look like and what kind of mom you would be. 

-But all of it was pure speculation. 

-He just wanted to see how it would feel to be so domestic. 

-So here he is almost a whole year after that night, choosing a ring along side Oikawa. 

-This dumbass had taken the decision to get married too quickly and had called Iwa very VERY panicky and in need of some comfort.

-They both picked their respective rings and hid the velvety boxes deep in their pockets, the two best friends saying their goodbyes and heading off to their missions. 

-Now Iwa wanted this to be as lass forced and too thought out as possible. 

-He believes that these things are best  done in privacy and only netween the two partners. 

-So he doesn’t plan anything out. 

-He waits for the moment when it feels right. 

-And that’s why it took him over a year to actually ask you. 

-Of course it wasn’t such an improptu move like Oikawas’, he was a little less tik tok-y??? 

-You had ordered tak out and were eating in your shared apartment. 

-After graduation you got transferred to the USA and were placed near Iwa so now just like Oikawa you lived together. 

-It has been a nice calm year of just domesticated fluff. 

-You were telling him about your day, how one of your co-workers ate your boss’s pretchel and they flipped.

-Or how you saw a dog dressed as a hotdog right next to a hotdog stand. 

-And that’s when he just drops the bomb. 

-He has been keeping the small velevt box in his pocket ever since he bought it. 

-Wordlessly standing up he makes his way to your side of the table and drops to one knee. 

- “I’m pretty sure you know already that I believe you are my soulmate. My other half and I couldn’t begin to imagine my life without you in it. Not even a month without you. That being said, it would make me the happiest man in the world if you would give me the honor of calling you Ms. Iwaizumi. For the rest of our lives; until we are old and wrinkly with our family running around us. Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

-You were crying at this point, nodding your head since the moment he called you his other half. 

-Of course you said yes and some bomb sex followed.

-Oikawa and his now wife, were so happy to hear that Iwa finally gathered the courage to ask you.

Kuroo Tetsuro 

-Baby!!!!

-He may be nasty but he is my og husband. 

-Actually my second og husband. 

-The first one is Akaashi. 

-He bought the ring the same day he decided to ask you. 

-He had been in a meeting and he was bored out of his mind so he texted you. 

-You two started off by making fun of each other and ended up playing one of those dumb facebook games. 

-He was letting out small giggles here and there which mind you were barely audible but the guy next to him heard them alrtight. 

- “Talking with the missus eh?”

-Kuroo couldn’t control himself when he answered. 

- “Yeah.”

-His coworker let out a chuckle at the sight of Kuroo’s face of surprise at his own words. 

- “It was about time you wifed her. You two are so in love it almost makes me jealous.”

- “Jealous that you don’t have a beating heart Kai?” 

-He got slapped....moving on. 

-So with that he called you once the meeting was over and informed you of his plans for tonight. 

- “Get dressed baby I’m taking you out for dinner tonight.”

- “What’s the occassion mister?”

- “It’s something special. Be ready by 9 I’ll pick you up from our apartment. Oh and could you please wear that gorgeous red dress of yours?”

- “The satin one? The one I can’t wear a bra with?”

- “You without a bra is just a bonus baby.” 

- “You are a horny idiot Tetsu.”

-Now he was out on a mission. 

-The mission of the ring. 

-So he needed to call on the fellowship. 

-Thirty minutes later Kenma, Yaku and Daichi were waiting for him at the local Starbucks. 

-Alas the fellowship of the ring. 

-These four idiots could barely agree on a single thing. 

-Gave the shopkeepers a headache. 

-But finally FINALLY they decided on one. 

-Patting their friend on the back they were off, hoping that you would say yes. 

-Apart from Kenma who prayed to the rain gods that you finally open your eyes and see what you are dating. 

-While at the restaurant he was quieter than usual. 

-He would let you talk and talk and talk about everything and anything with giving you only small nods or hums. 

-He was so caught up in his head that he couldn’t see th worry in your eyes. 

-  “Tetsu, is everything okay? “

-And there was his oportunity. 

- “Actually something is kinda bothering me and you are the only one who can help.” 

-He slowly got up and made his way to your side. 

- “You remember a few months back when you joked about us getting married? Or that other time when you said that I would make a great dad? Well I guess tonight will determine all of that.”

-He kneeled down and opened the small box rubbing your knee with his other hand. 

- “Y/N L/N will you help me make those dreams reality?”

-Kenma disapproves. 

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[pyreo]

deltarune megapost

I wanted to make a Deltarune post about the lore and the things that aren’t  obvious. And once I do that I wanna focus on why Mettaton is incredibly important to this setting

And also why he poses a problem

Why did Toriel and Asgore get divorced?

Without the setting of Undertale, Asgore and Toriel’s marriage still broke up after they had Asriel. There needs to be a reason though. In UT it was Asgore’s ‘worst of both worlds’ decision regarding killing anybody that fell from the human world, including children. We saw how close they were before this happened. Only something deep and serious caused that rift. In Deltarune, what on earth did Asgore do?

What happened to Dess?

Mentioned a handful of times by Noelle, Dess was her older sister and is mentioned In Undertale.... in that Xbox exclusing casino thing. The way Noelle talks about her, the conspicuous way Noelle gets locked out of her big house - it implies Dess is gone or deceased. Berdly recalls a spelling bee when he and Noelle were younger where she, despite being smarter than him, misspelled ‘December’, allowing him to win.

In the two-player spelling puzzle, it also spells out ‘December’ as Noelle recalls the past and her silhouette regresses to a child while she does so. Being distracted by her sister’s disappearance, rather than pure shyness, could account for her misspelling her name on stage, and it clearly left a big psychological mark for her to have this visual regression in the Dark World.

However, there’s a graveyard in Hometown with no Dess. I heard another theory that she has been missing for years, because where each character’s personal room is made by Queen to reflect their tastes via their search results, Noelle has a calendar where every day is December 25th. This could imply that Noelle continually searches the internet for ‘December Holiday’, her sister’s name, to see if there are clues to her disappearance, but of course the only result you would get is the date of Christmas.

Who is the Knight?

It’s now implied to be Kris, who has been forcibly removing the player’s influence to act on their own. By all accounts the Knight is the game’s main antagonist. Spade King and Queen both mention the Knight as someone who influenced their position - they brought Spade King to absolute power, and showed Queen that creation of new worlds was possible.

We’re led to believe that Kris was doing this, because they’ve been acting outside of the player’s control. Eating the entire pie between chapter 1 and 2 might have been a red herring to cover that they also went to the library and used that knife to slash open a dark fountain there.

However. This has issues. How would they even manage to shuffle slowly all the way to the library and get in the computer lab? The Knight is also the one creating the hidden bosses. They talked to Jevil until he realised he was in a game and he lost his mind; they ruined Spamton’s life by elevating him to success and then crushing him. Whatever the Knight is doing seems to be deliberately planned with key players in mind.

Kris opening the fountain at home at the end of ch.2 can be explained in that you just figured out in Cyber World that anyone determined enough can do this, and so, Kris decided to. So a better question might even be...

What does Kris want?

We have no idea. They are capable of removing the SOUL, ‘us’, temporarily, and putting things in motion we cannot influence. But they also keep putting us back in control afterward. This is hinted at right when ch.2 starts, where if you inspect the cage in Kris’s bedroom they threw us into, the description says it’s inescapable. Meaning Kris came back and took us out, willingly.

They allow us to pilot them through the game. Why? Because they cannot live without the SOUL for long for some reason? Because they’re bad at bullet hell? Why did they slash Toriel’s tyres before opening the fountain, making sure nobody could drive away?? Why did they specifically open the door?

You can find out details about Kris through the creepy way you interact with the townsfolk, who think you are Kris. They play the piano at the hospital waiting room - better than you. They used to go to church just to get the special church juice. It’s all normal, relatable things, not like someone who’s trying to plunge the world into darkness. Judging by their search history portrayed in their Queen’s castle room, they really want to see their brother again. However the castle has a room based on Asriel’s search history too, and Kris (not you) closes their eyes and won’t look at it.

What is Ralsei?

His name is an anagram of Asriel. Is he an extension of Asriel? The slightly flirtier dialogue in ch.2 would point to no. Is he an extension of Kris themselves, given the link between Kris’s childhood habit of wearing a headband with red horns on it, to pretend to be a monster like their family?

Ralsei knows exactly where the Dark World in the school is located, and unlike regular Darkners, knows the world is folded up inside the ‘real world’. There’s a certain whiplash to Ralsei telling you to hop out of his reality into yours and go down the hallway to retrieve all the board game items.

How does he jump from one Dark World to another, without assistance? How does he not get petrified like Lancer and Rouxls? Is this a power level thing because he’s a prince or something else? We definitely do not know enough about Ralsei.

He also says this incredibly suspicious thing after you spare Spamton NEO. Susie was also curious but accepts that maybe it ‘didn’t mean anything’, which is a sure tell that these optional bosses do mean something.

Someone is orchestrating what’s happening, opening fountains, manipulating the rulers, and influencing NPCs to become the optional bosses. Why? I suspect Ralsei for both knowing too much, and pretending something doesn’t matter when it clearly does. Until Asriel actually comes home from college I’m going to suspect he’s involved in this too.

How much does Seam know?

Seam on the other hand knows a lot about what’s going on but is openly withholding information while helping you. He’s nihilistic. He says things like:

One day soon... You too, will begin to realize the futility of your actions. Ha ha ha... At that time, feel free to come back here. I'll make you tea... And we can toast... to the end of the world!

Either this ‘end of the world’ is a reference to The Roaring, where opening too many dark fountains dooms the Dark World and the real one... or, I can’t get out of my head the idea that Deltarune takes place in a fake, or weird reconstruction of Undertale where things don’t match up, and eventually it will have to disappear. After all, powers of determination and creating and manipulating universes are Undertale’s basic bread and butter. How can we look at an Alternate Universe containing the characters we already know and not suspect that? Seam also uses Gaster’s key words, ‘darker, yet darker’, seemingly to clue us in that he’s not off track here.

Why haven’t we seen Papyrus?

This is a bright neon flashing ‘something’s not right’ sign. It’s not like Papyrus’s voice actor was too busy or anything. His absence is noticable and for a reason. Nice of Sans to promise we could meet him despite being aware we’re piloting a child’s body around, though, even if he didn’t follow through.

What locations in town could be used for dark fountains in the next 4 chapters?

If the sequence continues, we have chapter 1 in the school games room, chapter 2 in a computer lab, and chapter 3 in front of Kris’s television, where the aesthetic of each setting influences the world, characters, and enemies in the Dark World created there. Future possibilities include the church, the hospital, sans’s grocery store, Noelle’s house, and the closed bunker.

What the hell’s in the closed bunker

This one’s too obvious, honestly. I think it’ll open for no reason in chapter 7 and a little white dog will bounce out and steal one of your key items and nothing else happens.

Why does Asgore have these

Unlike the bunker feeling like a joke teaser, I gotta believe this is foreshadowing something weird. For example, what does opening a dark fountain in here with the seven flowers do? Does it just take you into Undertale?

Each chapter will have a hidden boss with a ‘soul mode’ from Undertale

Chapter 1 let you stay red, but I think each subsequent chapter is going to change your soul mode to one of the seven colours and design the encounter around that. Purple, yellow, green and blue were used in Undertale, leaving the light blue and orange modes yet to be revealed.

How does Spamton emulate Mettaton Neo’s name, body, and incorporate his battle theme, and the ‘Dummy!’ theme, with no actual connection between them ingame?

This is a really fun one that’s explained over in this post here. Swatch is the Dark World creation from the paint program on the library computers, so he’s able to explain that a Lightner made the robot body decaying in the castle basement that way.

Mettaton went to the library and drew his ideal form, Mettaton NEO, in MS Paint, and the Dark World formed that into a puppet body which Spamton was able to hijack temporarily. So by doing that Spamton was able to channel Mettaton’s appearance, attacks, music, and SOUL mode for the fight.

This might mean that the future hidden bosses, each with their own SOUL mode, might be based on the associated character for that mode (Muffet, Undyne, and Sans or Papyrus), and the boss will take on some aspect of them from their world to leech their fight mechanics.

The Problem With Mettaton

We don’t exactly know what Deltarune is about. It’s an alternate universe where the characters from Undertale already live on the surface, have completely normal lives, but diverge from the storyline of Undertale and, crucially, have not lived through the changes Frisk brought to their lives.

Remember how Undertale had a dozen different ending routes depending on who you befriended? The constant reinforcement in Undertale was that your choices mattered. Through Frisk, you chose to bring Alphys closure about her mistakes, you chose to befriend papyrus instead of attacking him, you chose to help Alphys and Undyne realise their feelings for each other and it’s only doing that that leads to the golden ending and escape to the surface.

Deltarune is the opposite, your choices do not matter. The only thing you can do to force the route of the game to change is to force Noelle into a No Mercy run, which is indirect, and also, a total desperation to mess with an otherwise set course. This version of the characters have not been helped by Frisk - Undyne and Alphys are not together, Papyrus has no friends, Asgore cannot get over himself, and they’re clearly the worse for it, but potentially, you COULD still do these things. In fact it’s hinted that you already are.

But there’s Mettaton.

He’s still a ghost and does not leave his house. In Frisk’s world, Gaster deleted himself, promoting Alphys to royal scientist by bluffing with Mettaton, and she then build him his ideal body. In Kris’s world... Alphys is a school teacher. There’s no barrier to break, no reason to experiment on souls, no Flowey mistake, and no body for Mettaton.

It was sad in Ch.1, but now with the Spamton NEO fight in ch.2, it’s unmissable. Mettaton wants that body and he cannot get it. Alphys in this universe is not going to leave her teaching job and suddenly be able to build a robot. Mettaton is just... screwed out of his happy ending and cannot get it.

So what resolution could this have? If it wasn’t for Mettaton I might believe in the vaildity of Deltarune and Hometown. But. How can you doom this character? If Undertale was the only way Mettaton could be befriended, then Undertale is Primary Universe A and Seam is right - the world of Deltarune is doomed as some kind of aberration. It all relies on how this gets explained in the future, but the core mystery of Deltarune is how exactly this universe intersects with Undertale and whether one is an offshoot of the other. How the Dark World links into that is another complication. But even as we get more fun characters and neat stuff in the Dark Worlds, let’s not forget we have absolutely no idea why Undertale’s characters are living here with no mention of underground or why there are no other humans beside Kris.

[nobodyfamousposts]

A Different Purrspective (Original Work)

“Human. There you are.”

Oh. It again. Or is it a her now, given the body it’s in?

To be honest, I hadn’t really cared much at the time about its sex—or if it even had one. I was a little too busy panicking over this thing that just one day up and decided to come after me because...

Actually, I never did get a clear understanding of its motivations. I was a bit too busy trying to protect myself from the FREAKING DEMON!

In my defense, I hadn’t known demons existed until that moment.

In its defense...

Well, it had none.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while now.”

Sigh.

I forced myself away from my cozy nap time to look over at the one disrupting me.

It was...pretty, I suppose. Full cheeks. Long eyelashes. Hair was messy. Its clothing was disheveled. But otherwise it looked good. Something in me felt that a demon shouldn’t be so pretty.

I wasn’t bitter though.

Even if the body it was in used to be mine.

You know those horror movies with the main leads that have to deal with spirits and possession and body snatchers? Yeah. That was me then.

As to be expected in a horror movie, I lost the fight and the...whatever that thing was took my body. And trapped me in its former vessel.

So the orange tabby cat being spoken to on the front porch of a suburban street? Yeah. That’s me now.

The jerk couldn’t even get me in a female cat body.

Though given what I’ve since learned about cats, maybe that was for the best. Ugh.

“Do you have any idea what it took to find you?”

Huh. The weird thing was that it sounded offended. Not sure why it was supposed to be the wounded party here. I was the one whose body was stolen. By IT in the first place.

And then to add insult to injury, it took me to a shelter and left me there. Giving me an evil smirk and laughing all maniacally-like on the way out. Probably figuring I would be euthanized.

It hadn’t expected me to be adopted.

Ms. McGregor. A lovely old woman. She was pretty much the picture of the cat lady. And she took quite good care of me, all things considered. Fresh water. Good cat food. Some treats every so often.

Granted, it was a bit humiliating since I wasn’t supposed to be a cat, but after what had happened, I was willing to take what I could get and live out my days in relative peace and quiet.

...then this asshole had to show up.

“Human, we need to talk.”

Here we go.

“I...acknowledge that some mistakes have been made.”

Oh really?

“And we both have some regrets.”

The one thing I regret about being in a cat’s body right now is that I can’t roll my eyes.

I know it should be possible. I’ve seen the cat videos. But I just...haven’t worked out how to do it myself.

“I...may have been a bit...hasty. In my previous actions.”

You said you’d stalked me for weeks to learn about my life before attacking me and pulling a Freaky Friday. That requires a bit more forethought than you’re giving yourself credit for.

“I was just excited for the chance to experience life as a human.”

Uh huh.

“It was only going to be for a while.”

Ignoring that from what you had gloated at the time, ‘a while’ was going to be however many kitty years I had left. And considering how old this body was when I was forced into it...

“Just...long enough to get the ‘human experience’, you know?”

Guess the ‘experience’ isn’t working out for you, huh?

“But all good things have to end.”

Good for who?

“So I was thinking...” It trailed off, as if expecting me to finish the thought for it.

It waited, watching me long enough for this to get uncomfortable. Then it sighed.

“Perhaps we should switch back?” It asked, trying not to appear too eager.

It was failing. Horribly. But it was trying.

“You can go back to your life and family.” It continued, as if it was trying to sweeten the offer.

It was an offer though. And one I hadn’t expected to get this soon.

Or ever.

But what I expected even less was my own disinterest.

I mean...sure, the entire thing was terrifying when it was happening and I had no idea what was going on. And humiliating to no longer be human afterwards. But it’s been...what. Two months? Three? And so far, things have been pretty good for me.

Yeah, I’ll pass.

“Come on now!” It insisted “Don’t you want to be human again?”

...was it serious?

“You would get to go back to your fulfilling job.”

You mean the 60+ hour work week with no breaks, no paid vacation, and shitty benefits?

“See your family again. Spend time with your siblings and their kids.”

My self-important and egotistical siblings. With their horrible, horrible kids. And their untrained dog.

“And you can return to having a normal life in a healthy human body.”

My most recent labs read some issues. I had gingivitis and a cavity at my last dental exam. And my appointment for operations on those matters both happened to be after my body got snatched.

How did that go, by the way?

It tensed, fists clenching.

“I think I was a bit...unfair. And I would like to rectify that and switch us back.” It bit out. I think its eyes even flashed.

It was the period pain, wasn’t it?

“How do you LIVE with that?!” It shouted, furious and possibly somewhat embarrassed given the red tinge to its face.

Huh. I didn’t know I could turn that color.

“Look, this works out for both of us.” It insisted, gesturing at me. “You can go back to your life and I can go back to not dealing with your life!”

Wow, you make my life sound so grand when you put it that way...

“Really?” It asked, hopefully.

No.

It groaned, running a hand through its hair.

Wow. It doesn’t look washed. Have you not been taking care of my body? That was one of the few things you said I wouldn’t have to worry about after you left me to rot.

“It’s harder than it looked, okay?”

How do you not know how to take care of a human body?

“Hey, even you humans need years of training on how to properly manage yourselves!” It hissed.

Well, sucks to be you, I guess. As a cat, I can just lick myself clean and not have to worry about appearances.

Its nose turned up in disgust.

“How are you okay with this?!”

Well, it sucked when it happened. But you know, we humans are pretty adaptable. Horror movies end after the credits, but odds are that we would just sort of have to get used to it sooner or later.

Did you think I’d just be screaming in horror within my kitty mind forever?

It paused.

“Maybe?”

Wow. That totally makes me want to help you.

“What? No!” It insisted. “I’m trying to help YOU here!”

And how is this helping me?

It...actually seemed to fumble for a moment.

“Aren’t you sick of eating raw meat and cat food? Isn’t it disgusting?”

Eh, it was hard to get used to at first, I’ll admit. But the nice thing about being a cat is that taste isn’t one of the senses high up on the scale of priority. I’ve only got like...a few hundred taste buds now compared to the thousands I had before, so it doesn’t really bother me. I do miss tasting sweet things though. But at least it means I don’t have to worry so much about how bad things taste.

“Aren’t you tired of having to hunt for food? I’ve seen you going after rats and bugs. Clearly you must be starving.”

Nope, the lady here feeds me pretty well. I just take out the mice to help her out.

It wilted. “But...the bugs?”

It’s actually kind of fun to hunt bugs. And they have this nice little crunch to them—

“Okay, okay, okay!” It interrupted quickly.

Was it was because it was grossed out by the conversation or because it secretly liked those things as well?

“Don’t. Just...don’t remind me.”

Huh, how strange for a demon. Honestly, it had been a cat, at least for a little while. It should know these things.

For that matter, it should also know more about humans in general and my life in particular if it had been following me for months.

“Look, let’s just switch back.” It implored. “I’ll stay in kitty form. You can go home and do...whatever with your life.”

I could.

“You can.”

But this is actually the closest thing I’ve had to a vacation in...like...years.

“You can’t be serious.”

YEARS.

“Listen to me you little shit!” It hissed out, its features turning significantly more sinister and...wow. Stop. I don’t think my face is supposed to look like that! “You are going to switch back with me or so help me—”

You’re supposed to be the powerful demon here. You stole my body before. If you really hate it so much, why don’t you just switch us again?

A pause followed. An unsettling long pause.

“I...can’t.” It muttered, unhappily.

Wait.

What?

“I took it by force. Which we can do.” It shrugged. “But no one’s ever just...switched back before! Not without permission.”

Sooo...you need my permission?

“Yes.”

Huh.

Maybe you should have thought of that BEFORE you stole my body, you creep.

“Oh come on!” It shouted. “Please! I can’t take this anymore. Your job is impossible, your family is insufferable, and this body keeps doing...things I don’t like to think about.”

Yeah, it does that.

“What would it take to switch back?” It demanded. “I can’t take it anymore!”

I’m not feeling particularly sympathetic to your needs right now.

“Do you want me to apologize? I’ll apologize!”

Would it be sincere? Or would it just be a manipulation tactic?

It hesitated.

Right. Enough said.

“It could be both!” It insisted.

And we’re done. Excuse me, I think I’ll be going back to my nap now.

“You know,” It said with a dark tone. “I could just kill your family. Then you’d go to prison. How would you like that?”

Hah. Good luck. Before I met you, I was still convinced they were hellspawn themselves.

Not to say that meeting you has actually changed that belief, to be honest. If even you can’t stand them, what does that say?

“I could kill them all and make it look like an accident. So you wouldn’t get in trouble when you returned.” It suggested instead and...wow...was it trying to bribe me now?

Pass.

Knowing them, they’d be worse than any demon. And would take you out before you could do them in.

Nice try, though.

It glared fiercely at me but said nothing further. If I didn’t know better, I would say it was pouting.

Human expressions are one thing I miss. I’d be doing a long sigh right now.

Look.

You’ve lived my life for all of two months and already you can’t hack it. Imagine dealing with that...all of that. For year after year on end. Going to work at a high stress and low reward job. Dealing with people who look down on you regardless of how hard you work. Dealing with family members that either ignore you or act like they’re superior to you. Dealing with their rotten little children that they are incapable of disciplining even as they wreck your belongings for the sheer entertainment of it. Dealing with a body that’s slowly giving out on you regardless of what you do because you have to overwork it just to earn enough to keep it functioning.

And knowing that despite all the hardship, you still have another 30 plus years of that shit to go before you’ll get to enjoy...maybe 10 years of retirement before your body gives out?

Meanwhile, I have maybe another 10 years of kitty relaxation in this life.

Why would I want to give this up?

“Because you aren’t meant to be a cat!” It insisted.

I’m not. But somehow I am.

And whose fault is that?

It was...oh wow. I wasn’t imagining it! It was pouting.

Huh. Apparently it’s a demon that isn’t used to not getting its way.

And arguably, it was a good deal. Most horror movie leads would jump on a deal like this to “right the wrongs” done to them and return to their lives. Anyone would.

But would you look at the time? Gee, buddy. I’d love to help you out, but that sounds like an awful lot of work and there’s a nice patch of sunbeam that’s calling my name.

“Don’t you turn your back on me—”

And you may want to check yourself. People are starting to give you odd looks and you really don’t need folks to recognize you and question why you’re talking to yourself in public.

It glanced around nervously before lowering its voice. “You could try to help, you know!”

Well, I could. But y’know...cat.

It sputtered.

Clearly, it wasn't possible for cats to laugh. Otherwise I would be laughing myself to tears right now.

“I could disrupt this new little life of yours!” It hissed, turning to threats where pleas and bribes had failed. “The only reason you have it so good is because that old hag took pity on you.”

Let’s not forget that if you had your way, I’d have been euthanized by now and this would all be a moot point. So maybe you should be a little more grateful to that ”old hag”.

“So you do care about her.” It smirked. “But she’s old. Frail.”

It hummed, nonchalantly. Then it smirked, knowingly.

“She looks about ready to keel over at any day.”

And what good would it do you if she did? You need me to be willing, apparently, remember? I was already spiteful as hell when I was human. And everyone knows that cats are nothing but spite.

“We can see if you’d still have that attitude after a few months on the streets. After all, there’s always the chance she could have an...accident.”

Not a good idea. You have not seen that woman lug her purse around. I’m pretty sure that lady was a former heavyweight champion. She can carry four bags of cat food at once, she could probably bench press you while she’s at it.

And there’s no way I’d go back to a body after that.

It opened its mouth—my mouth?—into an expression of rage, and looked about ready to scream.

A loud noise cut it off before it could make a sound.

“There you are!”

Glancing over, it was the front door of the house. The screen door had been opened and on the other side stood a short old woman. Her hair was tied back into a bun. Her nose stuck out at a sharp angle, but it framed her wide if somewhat wrinkled face. She wore no glasses, but she was squinting so much that she looked like she could barely see.

That was her. My new “landlord”, so to speak.

“Jennifurr! Dinner’s ready!” 

It took a moment for the thing in my former body to realize she was talking to me. Cat me.

...oh. Did I mention that the Cat Lady had an awesome sense of humor?

Welp, that’s it then. Too bad, so sad. Looks like we’ll have to table this for another day. Maybe next year?

It gave a grunt of annoyance, but backed away. If nothing else, it wasn’t going to cause a scene here. More out of self preservation than anything. But it continued to glare at me, clearly indicating that this was not over.

I ignored it, going straight for the door as McGregor opened it to let me inside.

“There you are, dear! Everything all right?”

Eh, fine.

She placed a bowl with some cut up meat on the kitchen floor for me.

Oo. Chicken!

“Not too many pests, I hope.”

Only the one.

She continued making conversation as she milled about the kitchen. She does that often. Sometimes it even feels like she hears me.

I wasn’t lying. Not entirely, at least.

I miss being human. Parts of it, at least. The internet was great. I miss having hands that can type. And opposable thumbs. I miss my full taste buds. Some other things I can’t be bothered to think of right now.

But getting away from life does kind of help to put things in perspective.

I’ll go back though...eventually. Maybe.

What was that one meme? It seemed most fitting here.

Nope. I don’t wanna adult today.

Today, I will cat.

[sparkie96]

“Not Going Anywhere”

(A Happy Birhday Cleon Present to @midnightsapphiremoon (because Tumblr is acting wonky af on my end so sorry for the spam!) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!)

It was mornings like this that were either hit or miss for her, but right now? It was peaceful...bliss even. Claire just watched the storm, sipping her still hot and steaming coffee as she cradled it between her hands. 

It had been months after the Sushestvovanie Island incident, months after Alex Wesker, the bitch sister of the infamous Albert Wesker, had come in with her little mole and tore TerraSave apart from the inside out. She had lost a lot of good people that day...people she had worked with and had been friends with for years. She nearly lost Moira and Barry too. The whole thing had just been one hauntingly familiar shitshow...one that she would very much like to forget. 

So, here she was; sitting on the comfortable outdoor couch on the porch of the Burton Mountain House, protected by the overhang as she watched the rain soak the trees and drench the Earth while thunder rumbled all around. Lightning would occasionally light up the sky, brightening the darkened atmosphere. It was still early morning, and she didn’t make breakfast for herself yet. Mainly because her “roommate” for the weekend was still sleeping inside and she wouldn’t eat without him. 

“Jesus…” A voice by the screen door said as Leon finally wandered outside, wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, “It’s raining cats and dogs out here.” 

A smile crept onto her lips as Claire turned from the serene scene to the beautiful man standing before her, “The weather channel said it was going to be nothing but thunderstorms all weekend.” 

“True.” Leon said as Claire scooted over, allowing him to sit next to her on the couch, “So...how are you holding up?” 

She gently nudged her shoulder against his before leaning against him, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, “I should be asking you that. You went through that hell with my brother in China and Tall Oaks.” 

“We all went through some shit,” Leon admitted as his eyes met hers, his thumb gently rubbing her arm through the thick material of his sweatshirt, which he had just noticed she was wearing, “...You stole my hoodie.” 

Claire chuckled, “It was left unattended at the foot of our bed.” She pulled her knees up so they were up against her chest, “And it looked too comfortable to leave unattended.” 

Leon smiled and hummed as he settled his head against hers, both of them watching the rain, “Touché. Alright, you get a pass for now...but that’s only because you’re here to get over some shit.” 

“Isn’t that why you came here too?” Claire asked, “To get over everything?” 

Leon nodded as another bout of thunder rumbled above, “Yeah...and to get away from it all. It’s funny...how we all come here to get away from our problems.” 

“Yeah,” Claire agreed, breathing in the thick earthy smell of soaked dirt, “that’s because the view is nice and the mountains are nothing but peace and quiet. And the cabin feels...homey.” 

Once again, Leon nodded as the two of them grew quiet, listening to the whooshing sound of the rain as it pelted the roof above them. She had just noticed that the wind was picking up slightly, making the trees, bushes and windchimes sway. Claire could feel Leon’s warmth radiating through the material of their clothes, warming her body after the cool early morning Summer air chilled her skin. She could also hear the calming sound of his rhythmic breathing, and she couldn’t help but look up with a smile, wondering if he was about to fall back to sleep. 

He caught her gaze, looking down into her eyes with another smile of his own, “What?” 

“Nothing.” She said with a shake of her head, “Just wondering if the rain was making you sleepy again.” 

“It is peaceful,” He admitted, “But...I could really go for some breakfast. How about some pancakes from that Waffle House we passed on the way up here?” 

“Shouldn’t we be getting Waffles from the Waffle House?” 

“We could do that too.” 

“Okay...after a couple more minutes.” Claire said, “You’re too warm and I’m too comfortable to move.” 

“Fine.” He sighed with mock annoyance, but she had known him long enough to know that he was teasing, probably too comfortable to move himself. 

So, they sat there some more in their peaceful bliss, both too comfortable to budge. She did move to offer him a sip of her coffee, to which Leon accepted. He had made a bit of a face at the taste, but that’s because it wasn’t sweet enough for his liking. She poked her tongue out at him as he handed the cup back to her. 

“I like my coffee a little bitter with a touch of sweet,” She explained, “unlike you, Mr. Sweet-Tooth.” 

“You didn’t seem to mind the sweetness last night.” He teased, poking his tongue out back at her. 

She shrugged, “Marshmallows and chocolate are a lot different than coffee, Mr. Kennedy.” 

“Well, yeah,” Leon laughed, “No shit, Ms. Redfield, but a bit more cream and sugar in coffee wouldn’t kill you.” 

“Well, a little less wouldn’t kill you either.” She teased right back. 

“Hey, don’t knock Vanilla creamer.” 

“I won’t if you stop busting on my bitter dark roast.” 

“Deal.” 

There was silence once more between them that morning, and Claire knew that they had been dancing around topics that both had been purposely avoiding. Words unspoken hung in the air, questions unasked. They hadn’t talked about all that they had been through these last few months last night over pizza, Claire purposely putting on a movie and Leon eagerly watching to avoid talking about their experiences.

Though, clearly she hadn’t avoided Leon coming in to sleep in the same bed as her, nor did he reject her when she rolled over and cuddled into his arms. They hadn’t directly said anything to one another, or even hinted, but Claire kind of had an idea of what Leon had gone through via Chris and Sherry, and most likely, Sherry told Leon about what had happened to Claire. But neither Leon or Claire directly spoke to one another about what had happened...and if she was being completely honest with herself, she would rather like to keep it that way. 

At least until she was one-hundred percent sure that Leon was ready to talk about it and vice versa. She didn’t want to drive a wedge in between their already distant relationship and times like these were so rare that she didn’t want to drive him away and have to wait God only knew how long for another weekend like this. 

She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before they were tossed into the next hell fate threw their way. Because next time...what if one or neither of them made it out? And wouldn’t a thought like that make them want to talk and get shit off their chests? 

Claire thought about it, but then mentally shook her head. No, it was better off this way, there was plenty of time to talk and she shouldn’t think like that. They were both very strong people who could handle their own in a situation like Raccoon City, Harvardville, etc. They were survivors and would continue to survive until their time came. They had plenty of time still and no BOW or terrorist was going to change that. They wouldn’t let them. 

She had been so deep in thought, she hadn’t even noticed Leon gently shaking her arm, “Earth to Redfield? Are you alive in there?” 

“Huh?” Claire said, finally rousing to focus on him, “What?” 

“I asked how you’ve been.” Leon repeated, “But you seemed to space out on me there. Everything alright?” 

She gave a small but reassuring smile and a nod, “Yeah...just...thinking about some things, y’know?” 

He wore a concerned look, raising a brow, “Does it have anything to do with…?” 

She gave a sigh of defeat. Well, there goes that plan. With another nod, the metaphorical dam burst as she admitted that she had been thinking about the island incident and everything that had happened. She admitted that she was going to talk about it at the same time Leon was ready to talk about what had happened to him, but avoided it due to not wanting to drive him away. Both topics were nightmarish to them both and she figured it was better not to talk than to...well, talk. 

“I just…” She began but quieted herself once more, “I miss you, you know? And...it’s very rare that we get to hang-out or see each other due to working very different jobs and traveling and all that fun stuff. So, when we do hang-out or see each other…” 

“You’re afraid talking about our problems is gonna make things awkward between us.” Leon deduced. 

“Yeah, and...I don’t want that.” Claire admitted, “I just...want to pretend that things are normal and that we’re just a couple of old friends hanging out.” 

“But we’re not.” Leon pointed out, catching her off-guard, “We’re old friends, yes...but...a disaster like that brought us together...a couple of times actually.” 

At her questioning look, Leon continued on that they weren’t normal and things would never be normal for them because of the paths that they had taken. If it wasn’t for Claire, Leon probably wouldn’t have made it out of Raccoon City. Claire pointed out that it had been him who shot the first zombie that night and saved her ass, but Leon pointed out that she had helped him and Sherry out that night too. 

“You’re the one who got the train working.” Leon pointed out, “If it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t have made it out.” 

He then said that their lives had changed that night, and even though it had caused some future issues for them to face...it also brought them all together. Leon didn’t have much of a family before he met Claire and her brother and Sherry. It was because of them that he kept fighting, because they gave him something to live for. He had lost people along the way...but in the end, he still had them. 

Claire felt a tightness in her chest, touched by his words as she swallowed the lump now in her throat, “I...I felt the same…” She admitted, “I just...I didn’t know you felt that way too…” 

Leon smiled as he leaned in and kissed her forehead, “If there’s anything bothering you...you can tell me. And I know you’ll listen if there’s something up with me. So don’t you dare think I’m going anywhere, okay?” 

Claire took a deep breath and smiled up at him, “I know...and I won’t.” 

“Good.” Leon said with a nod, “Now...how about that Waffle House? I’m buying.” 

[ladyhaesoo]

hotel blue moon

"There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die. And some thoughtful freaks kill them for us in secret. That's why clueless civilians can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware. Which one do you think I am?"

“Which one do you think I am?"

part 2 | read on page (not for the mobile app, but prettier)

There were a lot of things Moonyoung did not enjoy doing. Smiling unnecessarily. Being touched. Having to censor her books for the general public when their intended audience had no problems with her content. Meeting with obnoxious directors of large hospital chains that took advantage of people's suffering to make billions while looking like great philanthropists.

Ham and Gam hospitals hosted the largest paediatric wards in all of South Korea, with the country's best (highest paid, inflated, overconfident) paediatric doctors and surgeons on their staff. The ugly posters of smiling doctors (couldn't they have hired models?) and smiling children with assorted bullshit statistics stared at her as she sat there, doing one thing she hated so she wouldn't have to do another thing that she, unfortunately, hated more.

The earliest reviews of Zombie Kid were not looking good. Sangin was crying or yelling every time he spoke to her. The art was too gruesome, the story was too violent—of course it was too violent for the timid reviewers that read it from the safety of newspaper positions that afforded them the right to have no critical thinking whatsoever. Themes? Metaphors? These were the people who ate Cinderella up and pretended no feet were harmed in the making of this fairytale.

Still, she had a fanbase. Her books would sell, and, per Sangin, if she went to a hospital and read her books to children who needed money and medicine and possibly new organs, everyone would clap about her good deeds and forget all about the child that ate his mother.

If that had been all, Moonyoung wouldn't have minded. She liked readings; the terrorised but delighted little eyes staring up at her, eating up every word, learning something that a good many adults would never understand. The reading of this book did not have nearly as much drama as she would like, and any more cannibalism-based artwork had been ruled out, but it was still a good read. She made chewing noises as she read, and the children were delighted.

But it was not all.

And the truly generous Ham Kojeon had then had the audacity to postpone their meeting.

Moonyoung had nearly turned around and walked for the stairs, but Sangin was getting scarily fast at keeping up with her; his arm had popped up in her way before she could take a step down, and he'd dodged when she'd gone for her purse, then said something and gone to argue with the secretary.

"The director's been called into an urgent meeting," the secretary had told Sangin half an hour ago. "But the director has arranged snacks for you in the waiting room."

The waiting room in question surrounded the director's office, separated by frosted windows that gave a nice view into the room itself. Nothing was clear, but she could just about make out a pair of nice broad shoulders walking around the room. "Oh my," she said when the shoulders visibly walked around the desk to stare down at where the director was presumably sitting. "Has he delayed us to meet with a personal guest? How impolite."

Sangin glared at her. On the other side, his makeshift assistant giggled into her folder.

"Well, maybe I should go join them. Better view from inside. I deserve some entertainment too if he's going to keep me waiting."

Sangin hissed something about the people listening, even though it was just them and the director's secretary. Moonyoung rolled her eyes and turned away. Sometimes—just sometimes—she almost wished she valued her creative autonomy less than she did.

She shifted to relieving her frustration with all of this by grinding the metal heel of her boot into the metal leg of the chair and enjoying Sangin wincing every time she did it. The trick to something like that was variation. A few seconds of relief meant he wasn't expecting it when—

A thin distant alarm bell began to peal throughout the building, and Moonyoung laughed. "Can this day get any worse?"

Sangin groaned. "Wait a minute, let me go find out what's happened. Don't go anywhere!" he commanded, then gave the art director a look that said make sure she doesn't go anywhere. Then he ran off, presumably to interrogate someone poorly.

Moonyoung gave it a second, then got up and left. "Ms. Ko!" Poor little Seungjae called, but didn't make to follow. Moonyoung ignored her and went down the stairs. If nothing else, she needed a smoke break, especially if she was really expected to shake hands with Ham Kojeon after this.

She was halfway down the stairs when she saw it; a man in a patient's uniform dragging a child into what looked like a supplies closet. She followed at some distance, eyes narrowing, mind whirring uncomfortably. The girl was crying, but the alarm bells were loud enough on this floor that she wasn't audible over them—was that smoke she smelled? Had the man taken advantage of the fire, or had he started it?

When she slipped into the still-open closet door, the man was on his knees in front of the sobbing girl. "I'm your father!" he insisted. "I'm really your father! Why are you crying?"

"My father's dead!" the girl was repeating, eyes screwed shut, "You're not my father!"

"Listen to Daddy! I'm not dead! We both have to go together, do you hear me? Children can't live alone without their parents, that's why we both have to go at the same time!"

Moonyoung clicked her tongue. "What is this? Some kind of personality disorder? Delusions? I didn't realise it was that kind of hospital." She did hope the contempt came through. It worked; the man dropped the girl's arms, and turned to glare at her.

"Who the hell are you?" the man's voice faded between ordinary and not-quite-ordinary. Moonyoung frowned despite herself as his face seemed to shudder into something grotesque for a second—but when she blinked, it was just a grey-haired man with yellowing teeth. "This is between me and my daughter! Stay out of this!"

"She said she isn't your daughter," Moonyoung said. "If you want to die, die alone. If you want to live, don't steal others' children."

The man scrambled off his feet and came towards her. "Do you want to die? What the hell do you know? This is my daughter, and I'll do whatever the hell I like."

"Hearing problem?" she yelled, making an exaggerated gesture towards her ear. "I said, she—"

The man lunged towards her, and she slammed the hard end of her purse into his face, knocking him clean to the ground. The purse flew open, and her knife—too pretty for this place, with its carved handle and its surgical sharp tip—flew out of it to land somewhere beyond the man's hand.

He reared towards it, but he was on the ground, she was faster, and she stamped on his hand, keeping him from reaching the knife, and kicked it out of the way but somehow the man was up again. He jumped, and reached for her throat, grabbing her in a violent choke and banging her head onto the tile. A storage shelf crashed to the ground somewhere behind him. Her legs froze. The hands on her throat went from warm to cool to warm to cool to warm. "Die! Die! Why won't you just die!" a familiar face screamed. Hair floated in her vision, and the face blurred out.

The pressure on her throat lifted abruptly. She grabbed at her throat, air coming in way too fast, the imprint of cold—cold? warm—no—they had been cold, hadn't they?—hands around her throat still stinging, along with every uncomfortable nightmare they drew up.

When her vision re-adjusted, the man was wrestling with another man in a waistcoat. Consciousness returned. She was in Ham and Gam hospital. She was awake. She was an adult. And a piece of shit had just—fucking—strangled her—

She got to her feet and grabbed the knife.

Waistcoat had won, but that didn't help her. "I'll kill you all! All of you!" the man was shouting, even on the ground and clearly restrained by something. Her ears were still buzzing; the man's voice phased again, into something wrong, before it came back.

She lifted her arm, and brought the knife down—

It was a sharp knife. Moonyoung always ate her steak rare, red and raw enough to bleed if she cut into it too quickly—tough enough that no dull knife would cut through cleanly, without ugly ragged edges. This knife cut through her meat perfectly, even with little pressure. That was why she liked it.

It sliced cleanly through flesh, catching on bone too tough for it. She felt the fingers that closed around the knife in her own grip on it, surprisingly sensory. Blood dripped down a forearm and stained the cuff of a sleeve.

Waistcoat stared at her, and she stared back.

"I'd appreciate if you stayed out of this," she said.

The man with the knife currently embedded in his palm said, "Do you know how difficult it is to get stains out of a suit like this?"

"Are you with the hospital?" she asked. "There's a vermin infestation. I was just helping." she glanced down at the man whose arms were bound behind his back —by what, she couldn't see. He started shouting again as he realised her meaning, then promptly fainted, mid-word. She frowned, about to say something, when Waistcoat wrenched the knife from her palm, wringing his arm like a dog shaking water out of its fur. Little drops of blood landed around her heels. He began to wrap a bright silk handkerchief around the knife.

Moonyoung scoffed. "What, is the knife hurt? Why are you wrapping that around the knife?"

He didn't respond. She opened her palm in front of him. He looked up—finally. "Your hand," she said, "not the knife."

Waistcoat smiled. "Haven't you injured me enough right now?" he asked, and slipped the bandaged knife into his pocket.

"That's mine. "

"You tried to kill someone with it," he said.

She shrugged. "If he's Non-Compos Mentis, I can say I acted in self-defense. I was only going to give him a small cut with the knife, but you overreacted and injured yourself," she said, placing her unnerving smile on her lips. The man's lips quirked up, too—he had little dimples at the very corners, which made the smile far too cheerful for his otherwise unsmiling face.

"It landed in my palm, so it's mine now," he said, then cocked his head. "That was a lot of power for a small cut."

She smiled, and grabbed a handkerchief from her own purse. "There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die," she said, grabbing his palm—apparently, she hadn’t injured him enough just yet. She began to wrap that around his hand, and it stained the red immediately, creating a deep blush in the center—blood in blood. "And some thoughtful freaks kill them for us in secret. That's why clueless civilians can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware." She tugged the handkerchief shut, smiling when he shuddered. "Which one do you think I am?"

Waistcoat's smile widened. He looked to the unconscious man on the ground, then to his hand, and then to her. "Just a clueless civilian,” he said, after she had stabbed him clean through the palm, held hard enough that the steak knife would go through skin and artery easier than meat. “But which one do you think I am?"

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

Found You Again~Sirius Black x Reader~

This is literally a self indulgence for me. I’ve been rereading the Harry Potter series and Sirius is my favorite character so this is my contribution to the Sirius Black tag.

Part 2 is here

Thunder rumbled loudly outside of Sirius’ hideout. The dark cave he was trying very hard to get some sleep in was occasionally illuminated by lightning flashes. Sirius had transformed into his dog form and curled up into a ball near the back of the cave. Being a great big dog saved him the trouble of having to find blankets, as his thick fur kept him warm. His escape partner, Buckbeak was sleeping beside him, unbothered by the storm outside their temporary home.

Sirius had finally gotten somewhat comfortable enough to fall asleep when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps crunching on the leaves outside. He lifted his head quickly and looked over at Buckbeak. The hippogriff had heard the noise too but did not move besides lifting his head from his enormous front legs. Sirius stood as he saw a dark figure approaching the cave entrance. He let out a low growl. Normally, would-be intruders turn and quickly leave in fear of being ripped apart by a wild animal, but the dark figure did not turn away. Sirius growled louder, warning the figure of their impending injuries if they continued. Then the figure spoke.

“Relax, Sirius. It is only me.”

Sirius immediately stopped growling and sat back on his hind legs. He recognized that voice. He watched as Albus Dumbledore entered the cave, surprisingly dry and smiling warmly at him. Dumbledore turned to the hippogriff who was watching him carefully. “Hello again, Buckbeak.” Dumbledore said, bowing low to the creature. Buckbeak bowed his head back to Dumbledore and, sensing that neither he nor Sirius were in any danger, lowered his head and went back to sleep. Dumbledore chuckled to himself and turned back to Sirius who had now transformed back into a man.

“Good evening, Sirius. I apologize for having disturbed your sleep.”

Sirius shook his head and rubbed his arms, now feeling the cold without his fur to warm him. “Not at all, Professor. I’d offer you a place to sit but…” Sirius gestured to cave around them, showing a lack of chairs. Dumbledore grinned. “That’s very kind of you, Sirius, thank you.” Dumbledore pulled his wand from his robes and conjured two squishy beanbag chairs. He nodded to Sirius, inviting him to sit as he settled into his own beanbag. Sirius couldn’t hold back the sigh of content as he sank into the soft chair. He couldn’t even remember the last time he rested on something that wasn’t hard ground.

“I assume you must be quite hungry, Sirius. Although I have noticed Harry has been visiting the kitchens quite often lately.” Dumbledore flicked his wand and a plate of sandwiches and a flagon of pumpkin juice appeared appeared in front of Sirius. Unable to contain himself, Sirius lunged forward and grabbed at the sandwiches. He tossed about half the plate to Buckbeak so he could eat too and tore into the remaining sandwiches in front of him. He nearly cried when the plate refilled itself with more sandwiches. “Harry…sends me food..mmm when he can. It really helps.” Sirius said, his mouth full. Dumbledore smiled. “I am sure the house elves have no trouble preparing extra food. They quite enjoy it. Please, continue Sirius. I don’t mind if you eat while we talk.”

Sirius had paused as a courtesy to Dumbledore, but at his words, dove right back into the sandwiches. “Is something wrong with Harry? He writes to me but if there’s something he hasn’t told me..” Sirius asked, worriedly. The only reason he stayed this close to Hogwarts this long was because he felt concerned about Harry’s scar hurting. He wondered if Harry had discussed his scar pain with Dumbledore already. Dumbledore shook his head and held his hand up to stop Sirius. “Harry is not the reason for my visit, Sirius. I am here with a possible solution to your current situation. I wonder if you recall a certain young lady? Y/N Y/L/N?”

Sirius stopped chewing. He felt his stomach do a flip and his heart sped up just a bit at the name. Y/N? Why is he asking me about her? Sirius thought to himself. He finished chewing slowly and swallowed hard before answering Dumbledore. “Yes…I remember Y/N.”

Y/N had been Lily’s best friend. Maid of Honor at her and James’ wedding. The love of Sirius’ life. They had moved in together as soon as they left Hogwarts. Sirius had been something of a ladies man in school. Until he met Y/N. The other Marauders had laughed at how quickly Sirius had fallen for her and how romantic and gentle he became because of her. It was like something had changed in him overnight. Sirius and Y/N had been together even longer than James and Lily had. He was going to marry her. He’d promised her he would. He’d promised her that he’d always be there to protect her and take care of her. Though Y/N always knew how to handle herself. He remembered fondly.

But surely Y/N thought he was guilty. Everyone else had. Even Remus, even Harry. He remembered the last time he saw her. It was the night he’d been arrested. He had just gone to check on Peter to make sure he was still safe. He’d found him missing and hurried to the Potter’s. When he found James and Lily’s bodies, Sirius was filled with rage, for he knew Peter had betrayed them. He told Y/N what had happened, told her that he begged Hagrid to let him take Harry where they could raise him. He told her that he was going to kill Peter. She’d begged him not to. She pleaded with him to stay and they’d figure something out together with Dumbledore. But he was too angry, too set on revenge. Sirius remembered kissing her goodbye, telling her to stay put and stay safe, that he’d be back for her. He remembered the terrified look on her face. Then he was hauled off to Azkaban and never saw her again.

Dumbledore’s voice brought him out of his memories and Sirius realized he’d begun to cry. He quickly wiped his eyes and shook his head, as if he was trying to shake the memories away. “She has been writing to me for months, since the news of your escape. Wants to know if I know where you are and how you’re doing. She seems quite concerned about you, Sirius.” Sirius was taken aback by that. “You…you mean…does she think I did it? Does she think I betrayed…” He let his voice trail off as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again. He couldn’t bear the thought of Y/N hating him, thinking that he’d betrayed their friends and killed Peter.

“Of course not, Sirius. I would daresay she knows you better than anyone and did not believe it for a second.” Sirius felt relief wash over him. Y/N…his Y/N knew he was innocent. Sirius felt the happiest he’d been since seeing Harry. “Why are you telling me this?” He asked. Dumbledore smiled again. “I have informed Y/N of all that has happened since Harry and Ms. Granger helped you escape Hogwarts. Face to face of course, we could not risk my letter being intercepted. She wishes to see you, Sirius.” Sirius felt like his heart fell to his stomach. Y/N wanted to see him? After all these years she still wanted to see him? Seeing that Sirius was unable to speak, Dumbledore continued. “She has provided me an address. I believe you already know where it is. I believe she expects to see you any day now.” He handed Sirius a slip of parchment. Sirius looked down at it, instantly recognizing Y/N’s near perfect handwriting. His heart sped as he read the address. Our old place…she never left it. “I do not think Y/N could bring herself to leave.” Dumbledore said, as if he had heard what Sirius was thinking. Sirius looked up at Dumbledore, smiling widely. “Thank you so much.” He breathed. Sirius couldn’t contain himself and threw himself on Dumbledore, hugging him tightly. Dumbledore chuckled and returned the hug.

Sirius remembered his filthy condition and quickly let go of the headmaster. “Sorry..” He apologized sheepishly. Dumbledore waved his apology away, smiling kindly. “I imagine you will want to get going straight away. Remember to keep out of sight. Y/N will write to me when you have reached her.” Sirius nodded quickly. “What about Buckbeak?” He asked. He longed to see Y/N again more than anything but he had grown attached to the hippogriff and couldn’t bear to leave him behind. “Hagrid has enthusiastically expressed his wish to take Buckbeak back. He doesn’t know that he escaped with you but believes we’d found him somewhere near Paris and decided to return him. But we’ve decided that for his safety, he has now been christened Witherwings.” Dumbledore added, with another bow to Buckbeak. The hippogriff didn’t seem to mind the name change and merely blinked at Dumbledore once before nodding his head to him again.

Sirius thanked Dumbledore once more and said his goodbyes to Buckbeak. “Behave yourself, mate. Don’t get into anymore trouble.” He said, rubbing Buckbeak’s head. Buckbeak tilted his head slightly and blinked at Sirius a couple times, before nudging him gently with his large head. Sirius smiled and patted the hippogriff on his neck. He turned back to Dumbledore. “One more thing…does Harry know? About Y/N?” Dumbledore sighed and looked away from Sirius for a moment. “I’m afraid he does not. I did not wish to overwhelm him and there was not much of way to explain who she was without mentioning who you were. This was of course when you were still in Azkaban, Sirius. If you wish to tell Harry now of his godmother, I see no harm in doing so.”

Sirius nodded once, thanked Dumbledore again and transformed into a great black dog. Dumbledore waved to him as he made his way over to the entrance to the cave. “Take care, Sirius.” Sirius barked softly back and bounded off into the forest.

It would take him almost a week to reach Y/N. They hadn’t lived far from Diagon Alley as Y/N had gotten a small job in Madame Malkins after they left Hogwarts. Sirius had tried to tell her that she didn’t need to work as he had inherited a great deal of money from his uncle, but she was stubborn and liked to have something to keep her busy. Sirius remembered how he would respond with something usually along the lines of “that’s what I’m here for, love.” and Y/N would giggle adorably and playfully push him away. Even in dog form for the majority of his trek to London, it took him about 6 days to reach their old village. Sirius padded down the sidewalk, his memories flooding back to him. He remembered walking down this sidewalk as if it were only yesterday.

It was midday when he arrived at the base of the small hill. He looked around at his old neighborhood and noticed some flowers blooming in a nearby garden. He snatched some up in his mouth and proceeded to walk back up towards the hill. He was exhausted but seeing his old home, knowing his love was waiting for him there gave him the push he need to run up towards the house. It looked very much the same on the outside. The paint hadn’t chipped and the grass was trimmed neatly. He could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen window that was open. Y/N loved to bake and always kept the window open. Their neighbors often commented that they could smell Y/N delicious baking from the end of the street. Sirius paused on the front porch, nerves flooding through him. He rested a large paw on the door and scratched at it gently, hoping Y/N would hear him. He waited a minute or two with no response. He rose up on his hind legs, flowers still in his mouth and smacked his paw against the doorbell. “Be right there!” He heard from inside the house. His heart sped up again at the sound of her voice. So beautiful and melodic. As footsteps neared, Sirius looked around, wondering if anyone had spotted him. The door opened and Y/N came into view. She looked over him confused for a minute when a person didn’t greet her. Then she looked down and quickly covered her mouth in shock.

“Sirius!” she gasped. Sirius dropped the flowers at her feet and gave her the best puppy eyes he could muster. Y/N collapsed in front of him, tears quickly flooding down her face. She threw her arms around him, hugging her to him tightly. She sobbed into his fur for a minute before realizing. She stood up quickly. “Hurry! Get inside!” Sirius snatched the flowers from the porch and trotted inside, happily. Y/N quickly closed the door behind her and turned. Sirius turned back into himself, causing Y/N to dissolve into tears once again. Sirius rushed to her and took her in his arms. He inhaled her scent as he held her, like he was scared she’d be ripped away from him again. He felt himself begin to cry as well and soon, they were both sobbing in each other’s arms.

Sirius kept his arms around Y/N as they stopped crying. He gave her a gentle smile and lifted his hand to her face, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks before bending his head down to kiss her softly. The two of them sighed into the kiss, having missed the feel of each other’s lips for years. Sirius held her face in his hands, feeling her soft skin beneath his rough touch. Y/N ended the kiss much too soon for Sirius’ liking, but she kept her arms around his neck, keeping her close to him. “I’ve missed you.” She murmured. Sirius pressed his forehead to hers and nuzzled her nose with his. “I missed you too, love.” Sirius kissed her again, He felt as if he stopped kissing her and let go of her, she would disappear from his arms. She let out a quiet laugh and she pulled back from him slightly so she could properly look at him. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “No offense, my darling, but you smell like wet dog.”

Sirius threw his head back and let out a bark-like laugh. “Well I did run here.” Y/N laughed and pointed to the stairs. “You can shower if you like. I um, kept the closet exactly the same. Your clothes are still there and everything.” Sirius grinned and kissed her once more. He made his way up the stairs, getting slightly overwhelmed as he recalled where everything was. He found his way to the bathroom and felt he could cry again as he turned on the shower. Finally able to remove his Azkaban clothing, Sirius stepped under the running water, groaning happily as the warm water cascaded down his body. He felt he could stay in this shower for hours, scrubbing 12 years of Azkaban and months of living on the run from his skin. He manged to rid his hair of the tangles and scrubbed til his skin was pink. When he left the shower, he felt more clean than he had in years. He left the bathroom and could hear Y/N humming to herself downstairs. She would always do that when she was happy. He recalled. She was evidently baking more things because the smell was stronger than when he had arrived. He wrapped a towel around himself to dry off and made his way to their bedroom. Y/N hadn’t been lying. She had left everything exactly as he remembered it. His clothes were hanging neatly and fresh, like she washed them even without him having worn them. He was happy to be in his own clothes again.

He paused to look around their bedroom, happily reminiscing. He made his way back down the stairs and stood in the doorway, watching as Y/N moved about the kitchen. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. He often moved silently and used that as an opportunity to sneak up behind her and scare her. She stopped moving as she pulled cookies out of the oven. Judging by the smell, she had made his favorite, snickerdoodles. “Delicious.” Sirius walked over quietly and wrapped his arms around her. She jumped, slightly startled. “Sirius! Merlin’s beard, don’t do that!” She exclaimed. Sirius laughed again and kissed her cheek gently. “I couldn’t resist, love.” Y/N sighed and turned to him. She inhaled sharply as she took in the sight of him. Now that he was clean, his face looked much less gaunt and his handsome features began to come through once again. She stroked his face gently and smiled warmly at him. “I have something for you.” She said. She took his hand and led him back to the living room. She sat him down on the couch and pointed her wand at the wall behind him. “Revelio.” She muttered. The paint on the wall began to peel away as though it was quickly disintegrating. A small safe appeared and Y/N opened it quickly. She pulled a long box out of the safe and handed it to Sirius. “Dumbledore managed to get this for me. I’ve kept it safe this whole time. I think I knew somehow you’d be able to be free.”

Sirius’ eyes widened as he opened the box and found his wand inside. “My wand…” He ran his fingers over the runes that were carved into the base. The wand felt warm under his touch. He pulled it from the box and felt a dull vibration all through his arm. He grinned and pulled Y/N into another kiss. “You are absolutely the best, love.” Sirius murmured against her lips.

Sirius and Y/N spent hours catching up. Sirius told Y/N how everything went down from his escape from Azkaban to now. Y/N told Sirius about all the things he’d missed and informed him that Remus would be by in a few days and couldn’t wait to see him. “Dumbledore must’ve told him because he sent an owl about two days ago asking if you’d arrived yet.”

“How is Moony, by the way? I heard he resigned the day after Harry had saved me.” Y/N made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes. “Would you believe it, that greasy slimeball Snape is the one who outed him? Told all the Slytherins about Moony being a werewolf, just because he was pissed off that the dementors hadn’t gotten you.” Sirius growled lowly. “Git...” He sighed and looked away, knowing Remus had loved that job and it was so difficult for him finding work at all, given his condition. “Moony comes by once in while. Stays for a couple weeks. He always takes off before his cycle starts though. Insists he can’t be around me when it starts. He always looks so worn out though, Sirius...” Y/N answered, sadly. Not wanting to make Sirius upset, she tried to change the subject.

“Oh but Moony’s told me so much about Harry. Oh Sirius, he says he looks just like James!” Y/N exclaimed, tearing up. “Except his eyes are definitely Lily’s.” Sirius replied, tears forming in his eyes as well. “I’d love to meet him. Properly since I assume he doesn’t remember me. Dumbledore....hasn’t told him about me I suppose?” Sirius shook his head, sadly. “He figured Harry would be too overwhelmed, especially finding out that I’m his godfather. He apparently found out when he still thought I was guilty.” Seeing Y/N’s sad expression he quickly added “But Dumbledore says if I want to tell Harry about you, I can. There’s no reason he can’t know he has a godmother as well.” Y/N’s face lit up and Sirius leapt up to start his letter to Harry.

After he had finished it and sent it with Y/N’s owl, he sat back down and took her hands in his. “You think Harry could come live here with us? Instead of with that dreadful aunt and uncle of his.” Y/N asked. Sirius squeezed her hands gently. “I offered that to him as we were bringing Peter to the castle. He seemed incredibly eager. I doubt his mind has changed since.” Sirius replied, excitedly. Y/N let out a squeal of delight and threw her arms around Sirius. “Oh this will be so wonderful!” She jumped up and began running about, straightening things as though Harry was arriving any minute. She began planning things rapidly, making changes, and thinking of all the things they would need to make sure Harry was happy. Sirius could only watch her and smile fondly. She always looked so cute when she got like this. She saw him watching her and paused, blushing slightly at the look on his face.

“What?” She asked breathlessly. Sirius chuckled. “Last time i saw you act like this was the day of James and Lily’s wedding.” Y/N grinned and brushed her hair out of her face. “Well I was busy then too. A certain clumsy Best Man had forgotten his socks and his tie somehow so I was quite busy worrying about that and dealing with a nervous bride.” She retorted. Sirius gasped in fake hurt and stood quickly, folding his arms across his chest. “How could you? I still looked quite dashing that day if I recall correctly.” “Yes, my love, but you also had no socks. So you did also look a bit funny.” Sirius gasped again then grinned wickedly at her. “Well now that’s just mean, love. You’re going to pay for that one.” He growled before lunging for her. Y/N screamed with laughter and took off, narrowly evading Sirius’ arms. She charged up the stairs, Sirius following quickly behind her. He managed to catch her in the bedroom, the two of them collapsing on the bed, giggling like children.

Sirius was on top of her, his long hair tickling her cheeks as he gazed down at her. They were both panting from their quick game and Sirius couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting down to glance at her chest that was steadily rising and falling. He stroked her cheek gently, love filling him as he gazed into her eyes. His hands slid down her sides slowly. Sirius felt pleased with himself as he felt goosebumps on her arms. He was satisfied to know his touch still affected her like this. She reached a hand up to stroke his face. Her skin was soft against his and Sirius closed his eyes, he enjoyed having her touch him again. She pulled him down and pressed her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to him and he rolled over on to his back so that she was now on top of him. She swung one leg over his waist so that she was now straddling him. Sirius felt like he was a teenager at Hogwarts again and they had just ditched class to snog in a broom closet. His hands roamed over her body, making her moan softly against his lips. He buried a hand in her hair and tilted her head to the side so he could kiss her neck. He’d memorized her body and still remembered where every single one of her sensitive spots was.

Y/N began to rock her hips against his, feeling him get hard beneath her. She broke the kiss to pull her shirt over her head. Sirius swallowed hard, his eyes widening. “You...are so beautiful, love.” He whispered. He didn’t think he’d ever get to see Y/N like this again and he wanted to savor it. Y/N blushed again as she continued to undress. “You’re way too dressed, my darling.” She purred. Sirius nodded in agreement, too transfixed on the now naked woman in front of him to say anything. He stared at her as he slowly removed his clothes. He pulled her to him again, her skin felt hot against his. Their lips met and it was as if something had snapped in both of them. Twelve years of restrained feelings of longing and need poured out of them.

The night was long and filled with hot, burning passion. Love exploded between them. Sirius felt so hot he thought he would catch fire any second. Y/N’s cries of pleasure combined with his own arousal quickly overwhelmed him. Their hands were everywhere. Sirius felt as though he couldn’t touch her enough. Y/N’s hands were all over him, burning deliciously wherever they touched. They tangled in his hair as his hands tangled in hers. She was chanting his name like it was the only word she knew. It had been far too long for both of them and Y/N was coming undone around him fast. They had immediately fallen into a rhythm but it was now faltering. Y/N was clinging to him desperately as she came but Sirius couldn’t make himself slow down for all the galleons in Gringotts. He felt himself nearing his release as he thrust his hips forward. He threw his head back and moaned loudly as his orgasm pulsed through him.

He collapsed against her, sweat dripping off their bodies. The two of them held each other, breathing heavily. Sirius rolled over to face her and stroked her cheek again. Her eyes were closed and she hummed happily at his touch. “I love you.” He whispered. “I love you too, Padfoot.” Y/N murmured back. He kissed her forehead and pulled her as close to him as possible. As his eyes began to get heavier, he felt more relaxed and at peace than he had in years.

Sirius Black was finally home again and he had the love of his life by his side once more.

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ropes and Roses part three

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Events in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship.

Warning: this passage contains some drunken shenanigans, heavy petting, making out, self deprecating humor, stripping down to ones underwear, sexual frustration, some insecurities, and angst. Oh and the beginning of Elizabeth showing her dominant side. If I missed anything please let me know

Word count: 2500

A/N: If you read it and like it, it would mean a lot to me if you could say something nice!

“And what will the lady be having?” The handsome bartender asked from behind the wooden top.

“Gentleman Jack, two fingers, neat. Please and thank you.” Elizabeth had her face all smooshed up in her hands, cradling her own head, resigning to the feeling of utter defeat. Gregory Chapman had called her and told her that the movie had lost its funding. The promises he made her were now as empty as the glass in front of her. As was her bank account. At least the bartender quickly remedied the empty glass problem. Henry saw her sitting there, her perfect posture was replaced by the pose of someone who wanted to be as small as possible.

“Oh shit, you are taking the news way harder than I thought you would. I also had no idea you liked whiskey.” He saw that her eyes were puffy, she had rubbed the winged eyeliner tip off on one of her eyes. He took the hand closest to him and gave her a gentle squeeze. The best part of having had their lessons was they had grown comfortable with touching each other. He appreciated the intimacy they shared, even if he though it had been platonic on her part. “Cancellations happen pretty often, don’t beat yourself up too much.”

“You were getting so good too.” Her voice came out as a whine, she took a sip of her liquor.

“I was mediocre at best, I just happen to look good while you dance around me.” The gold tinged light above them made her eyes and the drink the same color. Everything about her right then seemed angelic to him, even with her sad expression she glowed. “My only regret is that I won’t get to see you as much. I’ve enjoyed our time together.”

“That is very kind, Henry.” Elizabeth laced her fingers with his. “It was a pleasure to teach you.”

I love how she says my name, he thought. “So, what happens next for you?”

“I have to work harder to try to keep my dance studio open.”

“What do you mean? You have some great teachers, you have full classes.”

“Greg had told me that once he was given the funding he planned on investing in the dance studio with some of his earnings. I’m not sad about the movie being canceled, I’m just sad that this is just one more thing to have gone wrong this year...” she trailed off.

“Want to talk about it?”

“If I start, I will not shut up, I’m sure you don’t want to listen to me bitch and moan for an hour. Don’t you have more important things to be doing?”

“I could listen to you complain all night. Besides, nothing is more important than us getting drunk and possibly finding people to snog with tonight,” he said with the intention of making her laugh, but with a quick look around the pub, it looked like the their options would be limited. “I bet you could charm the pants off that lad at the end there.”

The lad was an older gentleman wearing a newsboy hat and a sweater with patches on the elbow.

“Oh Mr Cavill,” she said in a dreamy, playful voice, “he’s just my type. Do you think he’ll like me?”

“I don’t know Ms Rosehill, you might have to show him a little clevage.”

She pretended to pull the top of her dress down a little, big shit eating grin on her face, “How’s that? Better? Oh please, sir, notice me. Please come tap my ass like a keg!”

The remark caused Henry to choke on his drink. After a deep gasp of air he looked at her incredulously “never mind, you’ll kill the man. Give him a heart attack talking like that.”

The two talked, Elizabeth told him about how earlier that year she had gone through a bitter divorce, her ex had left her with more debt than she would be able to handle by herself and then her mother had passed away. She felt like she was drowning and the first life raft that had been thrown her way was being pulled from her.

“But you know what? I am a pretty damn good swimmer, and my momma didn’t raise no bitch.” She stated. She sat back sagaciously for a moment, “I think that might be the whiskey talking.”

Henry chuckled to himself. They were both a few drinks deep into their conversation and she was feeling it. He paid their tab and took her with him, “Come on, you lightweight, let’s go put some food in you so you don’t black out on me.”

Trying to get the teacher to do anything while she had been drinking was like trying to get a cat to cooperate. Every time they walked for more than a few minutes, she would wonder off some where distracted by anything that caught her attention. He stood there the fourth time when she stopped to look at display of macrons in a window.

“Are you like this every time you drink?”

“No, only when I forget to eat during the day before hand, I’m so hungry, I would perform unspeakable acts if I could get my hands on some fried pickles right now. Are those even a thing here?”

“Fried… pickles?” He responded moderately concerned for her sanity. “Why?”

“Do you want the drunk answer or the athlete answer?”

“Both. Oh my god woman, would you get off of that. You are like the worst version of the worst mission in video games. No, no, no, you wrap your arm around mine right now, I will get you food, I promise. Stay with me, Lizzie, tell me about the pickles.”

“Drunk answer is that they taste good, you know what takes a sandwich from eh to great. Pickles.” She tucked her arm right into his, with his other hand gently resting on top of her arm ready to guide her along. “Athlete answer is that they help re-hydrate you, after work outs, after drinking. Drinking pickle juice always cures my hangovers. Although chips work too, especially with salt and vinegar.”

They found a place still open that was serving delicious smelling fried food. He was together enough to set her down on a curb. “Please stay here. I’ll be right back.”

She leaned against him as soon as he sat down and handed her their snack. It was beginning to get late and a chill in the autumn air was starting to creep in. “You called me Lizzie earlier, I haven’t been called that since I was a little girl.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you still are a little girl. Well, compared to me anyways.” He nudged her with his elbow a little to get a smile out of her. “I hope you don’t mind, I won’t call you that again if you hate it.”

“It is totally fine, I’ve gone by Liz, Lizzie, Lizbeth, Beth. Just please don’t call me Libby. My middle name is Louisa, my ex would call me Libby-Lou, knowing how much I hated that nickname. Made me feel like I should be living in Whoville, waiting for the Grinch to steal my Christmas dinner.”

“They can be the worst, ex’s. They always know where they can jab at you with a mean joke or poke at an insecurity. One of mine would make comments about what I was eating, especially if I was between jobs.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and felt her whole body shiver.

“I’m sorry, you never deserved that.” She said softly. He looked into her eyes, the eyeliner had somehow gotten more smudged, she looked as exhausted as she sounded.

“No, neither did you. I don’t know what all he did to you, but you deserve better too.” His voice came out low and husky. “Do you want to come back to my place, I live pretty close by and you look like you are about to freeze.”

“I don’t know, Mr Cavill, I seem to remember you mentioning something about finding someone to make out with tonight, will I find one there?”

With the straightest face he could possibly muster, “As long as you don’t eat all of my pickles.”

***

A twenty minute walk later, they were in Henry’s home. They were both greeted by a very excited Kal, who snuffled and snorted at his daddy’s new friend. A warm welcoming glow came from the living room where the lights had been left on for his dog. He offered her one of his hoodies to help her warm up and planted her on the couch so he could take his boy to do his business outside. He came back as quick as he, honestly expecting to find her asleep. Instead, she was looking at him with her whiskey colored eyes. He had wanted another drink, and brought them both another glass of the liquor. He sat down at the other end of the couch, trying to respect her space. “Are you comfortable, can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m warming up well, thank you. You have a beautiful home, it’s nice and cozy.”

“Thank you, I like it here a lot, it is just enough for me. And Kal, for that matter.” His furry buddy was pressing as much of himself against the spot Elizabeth sat on the couch. She was delicately rubbing the area between his eyes and cooing at big beast, his fluffy tail wagging happily. “I think he likes you.”

“Oh good, I’m glad His Lordship approves of me.” She moved her hands to rub his chin. “You are just a big softy aren’t you? Good man, Kal.”

Henry watched them get acquainted, allowing himself to melt into the couch, legs spread apart. She turned her attention to the beautiful man before her. Maybe the booze was making her feel more bold than usual, but damn did she want him. Her mind was still swimming from their earlier adventure. Hopefully, it was an invite to climb between his powerful thighs. She shot back her glass and put the empty cup on his side table. He reached over to her and pulled her close. She positioned herself to face him and straddled his lap. His breath caught in his throat for a moment.

“If I’m being to presumptuous, I can stop. I will go sit on the other side again.” She said quietly.

“No, I want this. I want you.” He reached up, fingers were gently touching the back of her arms.

She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his, “Before you... we… whatever it is here that we are doing, I need you to know that I don’t know what all I can give to you right now. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I think you are worth the risk,” he whispered to her and they connected.

Henry had wanted this from the first time he placed her hands on him. Every nudge, posture correction, hand offered to help him, whenever he felt her skin on his he felt the current between the two of them and it was electrifying. He felt himself grow hard as she invited him to explore her body. His hoodie was off was off of her body as soon as they started, and then shortly after came her black dress. They continued to make out as she unbuttoned his soft flannel shirt.

He fingers searched the back of her bra for it’s clasp. She broke off their kiss long enough to lean back and unhook it from the front. Henry could feel the pressure building in his jeans as he looked at her body.  All she had left on were knee high black boots and a pair of silky purple panties. Elizabeth gave him a lopsided smile as she leaned back into their embrace. Her fingers danced and tickled down his chest running down to to the bottom hem of his shirt. Henry stopped himself before she removed the cotton undershirt, ever so gently. “Before I take this off, I want you to not be disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t look like Geralt right now. I’m in my off season, and I don’t know what kind of expectations you have...” Elizabeth slowly ran her hands back up his chest.

“I like you, Henry: your beautiful, overthinking, intelligent mind; your sweet nature; your burning passions. You as a person.” peppering his neck and face with tender kisses, her hands tangling in his hair. “Everything else is just sprinkles on a cupcake.”

“Sprinkles on a cupcake?” he smiled. She nibbled on his ear and he moaned, hungry for more.

“Cupcakes don’t need sprinkles to be delicious, I have never refused a cupcake because it didn’t have sprinkles on it.” She ran her fingers back down to the bottom of his shirt. “So, Mr Cavill, do I have permission to take your shirt off?”

“Yes, Ms Rosehill, you do.” The woman on top of him pulled the garment off, never breaking eye contact. After it’s removal, she kept a firm grip on his arms, inching ever closer to his wrists. With her hands on them, Elizabeth pressed her weight against his wrists and pinned him as best she could to the back of the couch. She ground her pelvis against his as she started nibbling and kissing his neck, her torso against  his. Appreciating the nuzzling and nibbles on his neck, he closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for her to continue.

All he felt was her soft breathing against his skin. A moment later her hands dropped from his wrists. Henry tried to move himself to see what what was going on when a soft snore came from his would be lover. He rubbed his face, not believing what had just happened.

“Liz… Lizzie… wake up, sweetheart.” He tried kissing her cheek to wake her. The only response she gave was tucking her arms to her chest and adjusting her head on his shoulder. He groaned, but knew what he had to do. Elizabeth was as limp as a rag doll, so he guided her arms through his flannel shirt, placed her down gently on the couch and prepared his guest room for her. Making sure his warmest duvet was on the bed, he left a bottle of water and some Tylenol on the bed side table for her. He carried her to the room and tucked her into bed, making sure a pillow was wedged behind her back to keep her on her side.  Henry then went to his room, fell face first into bed and yelled directly into a pillow. 

[feliciohno]

could i perhaps request itapan with the soulmate au 2 ??👀

First words your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your wrist (Send me a ship and a prompt)

“こんにちは, I am Japan.” 

It was so rare for nations to develop soulmates. Where for humans everyone had them, that wasn’t the case for the strange beings that walked the earth beside them. Soulmates worked much differently for nations in ways that most of them didn’t fully understand yet. For some of them, a new line would appear at random. Sometimes they’d be lucky enough to meet the human it corresponded with. But then, when they inevitably passed, the mark would fade away as if it were never there. No indication that they had ever had a soulmate in the first place. It was a sorrowful experience, to say the least. Most of them tended to try and avoid any soulmates they might develop over the years. 

But Italy was different. One night, he had a dream. It was a strange dream that he didn’t quite understand at such a young age. In it was a boy a little older than him. He looked just as lost as Italy felt as if he wasn’t even sure why he was in the other’s dream in the first place. Despite that, he introduced himself as Japan. After Italy woke up, he had a soulmark. 

He had shown Ms. Hungary the mark and she could only respond with a pitying look. She just patted his hair and told him to ignore it. It would be better that way. 

So he did. For years he practically forgot it was even there. It wasn’t till he spoke with France that he remembered it. 

Italy and France often held conversations, they were quite close after all. Especially after Italy had gained his independence it was nice to still have someone to go to. He knew he could still go to Austria and Hungary but it just wasn’t the same. 

“Another soulmark, another life span.” France let out a sigh as he looked at his wrist. 

Italy took a bite of the pastry laid before him as he watched the other. “Another?” he questioned as he swallowed his food. 

France leaned back in his chair and gave Italy an almost sad smile. “They happen all the time to me. What can I say, my heart just can’t stand being alone I suppose. But,” he gave another sigh. “It’s always the same. They fade after a number of years and another just relaces it soon after.” 

“Don’t you want to meet them?” 

France only gave a halfhearted chuckle. “If Big Brother was to chase after every soulmate he had I don’t think my heart could handle it every time.” He then leaned in closer to the other and gave him a wink. “Besides, between you and me I think England is finally starting to come around to me, no? I knew he couldn’t resist my charms.” 

Italy smiled at that comment. Happy to see France’s mood come back around. However, the conversation, as brief as it was, stayed in his mind the rest of the day. When he got back home he inspected his own mark. How long had it been there? Humans don’t live that long, even he knew that. 

Gently, he ran his fingers over the mark. The handwriting was beautiful. He wondered if his soulmate always wrote like that. He didn’t recognize the characters in the first half but it was clearly Asian. Did his soulmate live somewhere there? It didn’t make sense. There was no way they could still be alive. Italy frowned and pulled his sleeve back over the mark only to forget about it for another odd number of years. 

The first time he heard the name Japan it was in passing. One of his humans was talking to another on the streets of Venice when he overheard their conversation. The name felt familiar somehow. The ladies were talking about it like a location. Was it someone like him? Was that why it sounded familiar? He never paid much mind to world affairs. Why should he? Italy just spent his days cooking and painting. As it should be. Why get mixed up in the trouble of other nations. He only did what his boss told him to and then nothing more. Maybe it was a bit lonely that way but in his opinion,he was better off. He still talked to France sometimes, and Austria and Hungary visited every few years. He was fine alone. Didn’t matter to him one bit. 

He wasn’t alone much longer. He got shoved into the front lines of a war he wanted no part in. He blamed his boss. Who else could he blame? He hated fighting. He just wanted to go back home to his warm bed and stocked kitchen. Instead he found himself stuck hiding in a tomato box. Anything to get people to leave him alone. He didn’t want to be shot at! Whether the bullets could actually kill him or not had nothing on the fact that they still hurt like a bitch. 

Sadly, the safety of his hiding place was quickly compromised. It wasn’t too hard to convince the other not to kill him. It turned out to be one of his kind anyways. A man named Germany. Wasn’t that who he was fighting? He didn’t actually know. What he did know was that being a prisoner wasn’t actually that bad. No more fighting, he got to lay around and eat food (albeit, it wasn’t pasta but it didn’t out right suck), there were pretty ladies to chat up (though they could be just as scary as Mr. Germany on some occasions) and where there wasn’t much he could do creative wise it still kept him out of trouble. 

He, eventually, actually became friends with Germany. He learned some things about the other. For one, he was much younger than Italy, he liked dogs over cats, and he was a hardass when it came to training. All in all it wasn’t that bad making friends with someone. However, while hanging around the other he often heard a name being thrown around. Japan. Hearing the German talk about him only confirmed Italy’s suspicions years prior of it being one of them. Everytime he heard the name he felt this strange tug somewhere inside him. He wasn’t quiet sure why but he tried to ignore it. 

At some point Germany made a time to introduce the two. If he was friends with Germany than this Japan couldn’t be that bad. Italy really coudln’t care about the whole alliance thing, if he was honest with himself he was actually having a nice time just making friends. He had even reformed his relationship with Austria recently. It was nice to have people in his life. 

Japan was, admittedly, very cute. His short black hair framing his face and those soft dark eyes. Italy was already making plans to invite the other back to his place later. However, he couldn’t put his finger on why but something was all too familiar about the other. He was almost sure they had never met so why did he get such a feeling from him? 

It wasn’t until the other introduced himself that it clicked. 

“こんにちは, I am Japan,” he said with a bow. 

Italy stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. He could feel the strange tingling sensation at his wrist right whee he knew the words were edged into his skin. 

What was he supposed to say to that? Was he supposed to should to the high hevens that he had found his soulmate? Did he forgo words completely and just grab the other into an embrace? He supposed, his first words didn’t matter all that much. Whatever they were, they were already scrawled into the other’s skin. They had to be. That was how this worked. So, instead, Italy only smiled warmly at the other. 

“Ciao! I’m Italy.” 

Japan quickly looked up at the other. When their eyes met Italy could see the spark of realization in the other. It only caused him to smile wider. 

They waited till after Germany left to talk about any of it. And so, Italy was forced to sit and listen to their boring alliance discussions. He was sure this was all important information that his boss would want him to relay but he couldn’t fous on that! He’d just met his soulmate! Not that Italy was really looking very hard for him, in his defence of course he either thought it was a human and not worth the heartache, or he just flat out forgot about it. Not his fault. 

When Germany did finally go home Italy stayed behind, saying that he would catch his own ride home. Once the other was out of eye shot Italy scooted up close to Japan’s side. 

“You have it too, si?” 

Japan looked up at him, surprised to see the other so close. His face heated up some. “I assume you mean this,” he replied as he pulled his sleeve up just enough to show Italy his wrist. Just as he suspected, on the skin was Italy’s very words. 

Italy smiled at him. He gently ran his fingers over Japan’s mark. “We must be really special.” 

Japan looked from the mark to the other with a questioning brow. 

Italy returned his gaze. “For us to have these. It must really be special!” 

Japan smiled softly at the other. “Yes, I suppose it must be.” 

Italy moved his hands from Japan’s wrist up to his face and pulled him into a kiss. The sparks the came from their lips meeting, Italy felt them in his very core. As if the words on his wrist were somehow also written on his heart. 

[mystical-flute]

Home is Wherever I'm With You (ch. 6)

FFN || AO3 || Ko-Fi

“Last chance to back out, bud,” Neal said, glancing over at Henry as he stood near the door of their hotel room. “You’re sure you’re okay with us moving here?”

Henry nodded, grinning. “Positive, Dad! It’ll be a new adventure, like you and Mom always talked about.”

Emma couldn’t help but grin slightly, even if there was a knot in her stomach that threatened to make her scream that they were going back to Boston and to forget this little town. It would have been an adjustment to not having Audrey and Snoopy around, but they could have made it work - right?

But Emma didn’t say anything, only giving Neal a quick peck on the lips. “Be careful, don’t rush yourself getting everything packed.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve already emailed a few friends to help me out,” Neal said, squeezing her hand before ruffling Henry’s hair. “Good luck, listen to your mom, and don’t start complaining about your teacher before you’ve given them a chance, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t,” Henry said with a roll of his eyes.

“I mean it, moving is a big deal. We don’t want to start off on the wrong foot.”

“Especially in a small town like this,” Emma grumbled, before sighing. “C’mon kid. You’re lucky the superintendent was willing to meet with us on a Sunday.”

She gave Neal another quick kiss before heading out with Henry.

The school complex seemed enormous, although Emma supposed that’s what happened in these small towns - they didn’t have to travel miles from school to school because there weren’t a ton of shops and houses in the way.

She was surprised to see a woman standing at the top step, waiting for them.

“Good morning! You must be Mrs. Cassidy,” she said with a wide smile. “And this must be Henry.”

“Ms. Jackson, right?” Emma said as Henry gave a nervous wave. “Thank you for meeting with us on a Sunday.”

“Please, call me Olivia. And it’s no trouble. It’s not often we get new students enrolled here, so this is really exciting for us!” Olivia opened the door, guiding them inside. “Come right on in and we’ll get you set up. When we’re done with Henry’s schedule and the other paperwork I’ll give you a tour.”

“Sounds great,” Emma hummed, glancing around. It seemed like any other school she’d been in. A little older, even than the Boston schools Henry and Audrey attended, but it was that same sickly-sweet charming that the rest of Storybrooke seemed to have.

Olivia’s office seemed normal though, and Emma felt herself relax slightly as she began rapidly typing on her computer.

“Alright then, Henry. I received your records a few minutes ago from Boston - ”

“That quickly?” Emma interrupted. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect them to be working on a Sunday.”

Olivia shrugged. “When something like this pops up, sometimes the system actually moves like we want it to. Anyway, his records and notes from his teachers indicate he’s a fan of art, is that right?”

Henry nodded. “It’s my favorite class. And I was in a special art camp this summer.”

“That’s wonderful, Henry! I think I have an opening in the perfect class.” A few more clicks of her keyboard, the sound of a printer, and she was sliding a schedule across the desk. “You’ll be in Miss Blanchard’s class. She does lots of art projects during her lessons to help students learn in a unique way.”

“We met her yesterday!” Henry chirped. “She seemed really nice.”

Emma couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief, knowing Henry would be with Mary-Margaret. “She did. She was volunteering at the hospital when we brought Audrey in.”

“Oh! Yes, that’s right, I heard about Audrey’s return. It’s a miracle, really. She’s been gone as long as I can remember…” Olivia trailed off, seemingly lost in thought, before the bright smile returned as she reached into her desk. “So here’s some information on the schools, and a map for Henry in case he needs it. You can find the pieces for the uniform pretty much anywhere, so don’t worry about that. Although, I will need his size for the sweater.”

Henry soured a little at the mention of a uniform.

“He’s a medium,” Emma said.

Olivia nodded, rising to her feet. “I’ll grab one out of storage while we’re on our tour, if you’re ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

“The main menu for lunch rotates every day, and we’re lucky to have a local farmer that donates much of the produce we use,” Olivia explained as they wandered past a display of science fair projects. “Kids are welcome to eat inside or outside, weather permitting, and we have monitors in both areas.”

“That’s cool! We weren’t allowed to eat lunch outside in Boston,” Henry explained.

Emma couldn’t help but raise a brow. “How’d you swing the farmer donating produce to the school?”

“Well, it helps that he’s married to be one of our teachers,” Olivia explained with a laugh. “Daphne teaches high school, so maybe in a few years Henry will be in her class. Or maybe Audrey. I’m going to be taking her schedule and information to the hospital later.”

“I can take it to her, if you want. Henry and I are going to the hospital later this afternoon,” Emma offered.

Olivia hummed, tapping her finger against her cheek. “Well, since you are technically listed as Audrey’s parent on her school records, that will be fine. I’ll get her schedule and information settled when we head back to the office. Do you happen to know what size she wears?”

“Sounds like a plan. And she’s a medium as well.”

“I’ll get her sweater when we grab Henry’s. Miss Blanchard’s room is - oh, it looks like she’s here. That’s strange,” Olivia frowned as they approached the open classroom door. “Mary-Margaret?”

Something thudded to the ground, and there was a startled yelp.

“Superintendent Jackson! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were here too.”

“I’m showing Mrs. Cassidy and her son around… what brings you here?”

“I’ve been looking for my credit card. I tore my apartment apart but it’s nowhere to be found. So I thought I would check here.”

Olivia blinked. “Oh, I see. I’ll run the security tapes and see if anything’s come up. Nothing has been turned in at the Lost and Found, but that doesn’t mean no one has it.”

“Thank you, Olivia. I appreciate it.”

Emma kept a hand on Henry’s shoulder as they lingered in the doorway. “Hi, Mary-Margaret, I don’t know if you remember - ”

Mary-Margaret smiled slightly. “You’re the family from the hospital. What brings you to the schools though?”

“You’re my new teacher,” Henry announced, glancing around the classroom. “Which one is going to be my desk?”

“I’m - sorry?” Mary-Margaret asked, stepping back as Henry pushed further into the room. “His new teacher?”

Emma sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry about that. We’re uh, moving to Storybrooke. He was put in your class.”

“Oh! Well come on in then. I’ll get you caught up on what we’re learning about. Henry, this will be your desk right here,” she said, guiding Henry to a desk near the window. “I’ve been teaching them how to build birdhouses. It helps with building empathy and their math skills.”

“Combining art and math. I wish I had a teacher like you when I was growing up. Maybe I would actually like math,” Emma joked.

Mary-Margaret gave her a weak smile. “Math isn’t my favorite subject either, but just know if Henry finds he’s struggling, the high school has a great tutoring program.”

“You guys sure thought of everything,” Emma remarked.

“Well, we figured it’d be a good way for the older kids to earn a little credit, and help the younger students out. It’s also part of the after-school program.”

Emma smiled. “That all sounds great. It’s really making me feel better that Henry’s still going to get a good education, even if we’re not in Boston.”

“Storybrooke is… like a fairytale, Mrs. Cassidy. We may be small, but we prioritize education,” Olivia explained. “Shall we continue the tour?”

Why did her phrasing sound so odd to Emma? Still, she managed a smile. “Sounds good. C’mon kid.”

They saw the playground, the computer lab, and the library before Olivia led them to a small shop area. “And here we are. Two medium Storybrooke sweaters.” They were presented as if they were made of gold, which had Emma biting back a laugh as she took them. “We’ll just get Audrey’s paperwork all settled and that’ll be it. Unless you had any further questions?”

Emma wracked her brain. “No, I think that’s it. But I’ll contact you if I think of anything.”

“Fantastic,” Olivia said, returning to the office and setting up the same paperwork and schedule for Audrey. “It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Cassidy. We’ll see you tomorrow at 8:30 sharp then, Henry?”

“Yes Miss Jackson.”

Emma guided him out of the office, hearing Olivia answer a phone call as they disappeared down the hall.

“Lacey, what’s up? Yeah I can…”

---

Madalena was going to kill Rumplestiltskin if she ever got out of here.

No. When she got out of here. Because she would get out of here, of course. She was the Dark Queen Madalena after all! She could get out of here on her own… even if she had failed so far and she had no idea exactly how long she had even been trapped in this godforsaken book.

Her Handsome Hero. What a dumb name for a book. What a ridiculous idea for a plot.

If she had to watch Gideon the Great cut a spider in half one more time, she was going to scream.

And she had screamed multiple times already.

The worst part of living in a book was there being no plot for Madalena. The author hadn’t put a Queen Madalena in it, so she was relegated to being in the back of crowd scenes, completely ignored and unable to do anything to end the sieges that plagued this village.

Not that she wanted to be a hero, of course. No, Madalena just wanted to save her own skin and had been caught in the crossfire one too many times.

“Fear not, Duchess Prudence, I, Gideon, shall slay the evil Sorceress!” the hero of the story says, dramatically flourishing his hands.

Madelena rolled her eyes and made a face. Just once, she’d like to be able to turn Gideon or one of the other townspeople into a toad, or a dog, or something. Anything to make this more bearable.

“Madalena?” a voice suddenly said from above. That wasn’t right, and suddenly everything froze. “I don’t recall you being in the story before.”

“Hello?!”

Why could she move? Who was that voice? It was new, didn’t come from any of the stale creatures around her… had someone from the real world finally picked up the book?

“Madalena, I free you from these pages.”

She didn’t have time to think before she felt herself being yanked up, landing hard on a carpeted floor.

“Oh gods, are you okay?” came the same voice, only this time, it was much closer.

Madelena felt the world tilting for a moment, before everything stilled and she lifted her head from the carpet, heaving in deep breaths and staring down at her hands. Free. She was… free? She pushed herself up into a sitting position, feeling the world tilt slightly again as she glanced around the room.

She knew this place. Rumplestiltskin’s library.

She was free.

“Erm… hello?” the voice asked again, and Madelena jumped, glancing over. “Sorry, are you okay?”

That was a loaded question. Was she okay?

“I…” her voice was raspy. “How long… was I in there?”

“I don’t know… you’re Madalena of Keburg, aren’t you?”

Her head shot over to the young woman who had spoken, eyes wide. They still spoke of her? Good. Then it must not have been all that long.

“I am. They deposed me two years ago.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and Madalena’s heart sank. “No… not two years ago. They just celebrated their Decade of Peace.”

Decade? Decade?!

“I’ve been in that book for eight years…” Madalena whispered. “Oh my gods…”

“I’m glad I got you out of there. What happened?”

Madalena rose to her feet, brushing invisible lint off her gown. “That bastard Rumplestiltskin locked me in there. All I wanted to do was learn some dark magic to take control of a kingdom, that’s not too much to ask for, right?”

“Er… I’m probably not the best person to ask about that, but you’re not the only evil queen in the realm.”

“Oh, no, please don’t call me evil, just dark,” Madalena said, raising a brow. “Who are you, anyway?”

“My name is Belle. I’m Rumplestiltskin’s housekeeper.”

“May the gods have mercy on you then,” Madalena said, rubbing her head. “Thank you for freeing me, Belle.”

“You should hurry and get out of here. Rumplestiltskin will be home any moment.”

Madalena nodded, raising her hand to disappear, before she paused. “I don’t know where to go. I can’t go back to Keburg, I can’t stay in this kingdom…”

“I think you’ll find allies here if you stay off Rumplestiltskin’s radar. He’s not exactly the most popular man here. Now hurry, go!”

“Thank you again for freeing me, Belle. I’ll make sure to leave you in peace when I come to power,” Madalena said, vanishing in a cloud of black smoke. Where she would go, she didn’t know, but if what Belle said was true, perhaps there was a chance for her to find allies.

Maybe she could take down Rumplestiltskin and take his place.

That might be nice.

She landed in the middle of the woods, on some sort of carriage path. No matter which direction she looked, she couldn’t see Rumplestiltskin’s castle. Hopefully, that meant she was far enough away. Now all she had to do was find some food or shelter. Or, find some people to give her food and shelter. She was still a queen after all… even if she had fallen.

A small village wasn’t too far from where she’d landed, and Madalena sighed, pushing herself into the nearest pub.

“The next round is on me!” a man shouted, lifting an empty stein into the air. “Grimsund shall prosper once again!”

There was a roar from the crowd, and Madalena gasped as a mug was shoved into her hand from the nearest barmaid.

“Oh, I - ”

“No need to worry, Prince James paid for this round,” she said with a grin. “He’s just come back from a giant hunt.”

A prince, huh?

Madalena could work with that.

“Thank you, then,” she said to the barmaid. “Is that him over there?”

“Aye, that’s him, but if you think you’ve got a chance with him, you may want to temper your expectations. The rumor is he’s got a different woman in his bed every month,” she explained. “Truth is, I don’t know if he’ll ever commit to one woman, even if the king forces an arrangement.”

Ah, so it was that sort of deal, hm? Fine. Madalena could take out the competition.

“I see, thank you kindly,” she said, sipping at her beer before sauntering over to the prince and dropping into the seat across from him.

He raised a brow. “And who might you be.”

“I might be Queen Madalena of Keburg, I might be just a figment of your imagination,” she smirked.

James furrowed his brow. “Weren’t you deposed?”

“Details, details.”

James looked her up and down. “Well, what can I do for fellow royalty?”

“That’s just it. I’m not exactly royal anymore, and I just spent eight years trapped in a book thanks to the Dark One. As much as I hate to do this, I need help.”

Setting his much on the table, James leaned forward. “And what can you do for me?”

Madalena waved her hand, magic gathering in it. “What do you need?”

---

“Here you go, Emma, grilled cheese and onion rings. Hey - you alright?” Ruby asked, setting the plate down in front of her.

Emma rubbed her eyes and looked up from the newspaper in front of her. “Yeah, thanks. I’m just trying to find a place for us to live, and it’s not like there are a lot of options here.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me. If there were more affordable houses here, I’d have moved out of the bed and breakfast a long time ago. That, and if Granny would ever let me meet with Victoria…”

The last part was said in a mumble, which had Emma raising a brow. “What do you mean?”

Ruby looked around, before digging through her apron and pulling out a card. “Victoria Belfrey-Polastel. She’s a realtor in town. Wanted to buy Granny’s not too long ago and make it more modern, instead of a dumpy diner and bed and breakfast. Granny hit the roof and refused to ever serve her, but she gave me a card if I ever needed it, but you and your family need it more than I do, so here. Just… don’t tell Granny I told you about her.”

Emma took the card, sliding it into her wallet. “Thanks Ruby. I owe you one.”

“So long as you don’t tell Granny, consider us even.”

And that was how Emma found herself sitting in a way too spotless, modern office that afternoon after making sure Henry didn't need anything.

Seriously, was this Victoria thinking she was selling to celebrities and the too-wealthy in New York City? What was with this place?

“Mrs. Cassidy, welcome.”

Emma briefly considered reminding the woman that her name was Emma, but decided against it. “Thank you for meeting with me. I’m sorry it’s on such short notice.”

“Oh no need to apologize for something like that! This is my job after all, and it’s not often I get a client with a family that needs to be moved. Everyone here just seems to be so settled that they never go anywhere. But what sort of house were you and your family looking for?” Victoria said, flourishing a pen and smoothing out the notepad in front of her.

Emma paused. What were they looking for in a house? They hadn’t had many options when it came to apartments, aside from the location and the spectacular front door that Emma was going to miss.

“Er… at least three bedrooms, although four would be ideal, I guess, so Neal and I can have an office,” she started, running her tongue along her teeth in an attempt to think. “Maybe a nice yard. We’re from Boston and our son has never had a yard to play in.”

Victoria was nodding, scribbling away. “I have two daughters. I get it.”

“Maybe something updated? I don’t know if we can handle moving all of our stuff and finding out the house needs new floors or a new bathroom.”

“Ah!” Victoria suddenly said, tossing the pen onto her desk and rapidly typing on her computer. “I have the perfect house for you, Mrs. Cassidy. 715 Tenth Street. Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, nicely updated and a large backyard. It’s an updated Victorian, and one of the best Storybrooke can offer. We can drive over now, if you want to see it?”

Emma nodded, her throat dry.

But Victoria was right, 715 Tenth Street was what she would call perfect for that family, and she signed on the dotted line in the spotless kitchen - her kitchen, and blinked in shock as Victoria passed her the keys.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Cassidy.”

[cicici03]

When Two Worlds Collide- Chapter 1

Hey Y’all!

This is my new series and I hope you guys truly like it. I wanyed this out earlier but your girl had some bad writer’s block!!

—————————————————————

"Now Ms. Linda, I payed for this month rent. Then you wanted to tell me that my building have termites!" Nia shouted at her landlord over the phone.

"Nia, you know that I wouldn't take your rent if I knew there was a problem. However, I just found out today. You might have to move in with Trevante." Ms. Linda whispered out the last part.

Nia shooked her head even harder. Nia walked downstairs to the kitchen to make her something to eat before she needed to leave.

"Ms. Linda that is a definite no and you know that!" Nia said with much anger while finishing up her food before heading to the shop.

"Baby, the whole damn neighboorhood knows that! I know he have hurted you, but baby if you don't want a termite infested salon. I'm going to needed you to leave by Monday!" Ms. Linda shouted back at Nia.

Nia shook her head once again, still listening to Ms. Linda trying to give her other options to go.

"Ms. Linda, you can ask him because I am not." Nia quietly said to Ms. Linda. Nia got to the refrigerator and saw that last night dinner, rice and chicken, was in the back.

As Nia reach to grab the leftovers, Ms. Linda caught her attention.

"Baby, I will ask Trevante for you. However, honey you need to get over that heart break! I know Trevante was your first love, but baby if you want to live life, you need to move on !" Ms. Linda said in a motherly tone with Nia.

Nia froze as she was place the rice and chicken in her bowl. Cierra knew Ms. Linda was right, but she just couldn't. As she was about to reply, she heard Cause I Love You by Lenny Williams.

Nia smiles to herself, as she finish packing up her lunch.

"Ms. Linda, I will talk to you later and please don't make it sound that I need desperate help to Tre!" Cierra said with emphasis on the last part of her statement to Ms. Linda.

Ms. Linda laughed at the comment.

"Baby, you are in desperate help!" Ms. Linda continue laughing as she ended the call.

Nia walked into the dining room, hearing Lenny Williams song even louder. She saw her Gigi over there moving to the song.

Nia drop her lunch on the table to get her attention. As it drop on the table, Nia's Gigi turn around quickly.

"Little girl, you better not scare me like that. If y'all wasn't here, I would be naked!" Gigi Ruth exclaimed while turning down the music.

Nia laughed at her Gigi Ruth.

Gigi Ruth was the matriarch of the family. She wasn't originally from Chicago, but moved here when she turn 18 to get away from the Jim Crow South. Even though she still experience racism, she felt a little more comfortable than living in Alabama.

She didn't take shit from nobody, and she was going to act like how she felt: young.

"Well Gigi, I heard you and your little friend last night. Whom, was in the same bed my papa had his last breath!" Nia exclaimed while bringing out breakfast for the table.

"Nia, get out my business little girl. The last thing I remeber your old, ugly papa was six feet under!" Gigi Ruth starting grabbing some of the sausage off the plate. 

As Nia saw the sausage in Gigi's hand. She snatch out of her hand.

"Now little girl, you might be my blood! However, don't snatch my damn food out my hand!" Gigi Ruth said while giving Nia the death scare.

"Gigi, you know that you can't have this! You need to lower down on the greasy food!" Nia shouted back as she went into the kithen to get her Gigi's food.

"Well damn Nia what I suppose to eat! I should called the damn AARP on your ass!" Gigi Ruth said as she put her hands up to her chest. As Nia was walking out the kitchen with Gigi's food, her mother came downstairs. 

As Nia place the food, Gigi Ruth saw the contents of it.

Plain oatmeal.

"Cassandra, get your daughter before I kill her! There is no butter, milk, sugar! It is white people oatmeal because no black person a would ever touch this shit!" Gigi Ruth shouted even louder, while shaking her head looking at the oatmeal.

"Momma, please I have a headache right now." Cassandra calmly sat down on the plastic dining seat. As Nia heard that, she rush over to her mother with her medicine.

"Momma well take this one first. Then take the other ones!" Nia stuttered out, while rushing to get all the pills out of the bottle. Cassandra grab her daughter's hand and held it. Nia looked at her mother with tears in her eyes.

"Baby, it just a headache. I am fine." Cassandra reassured by grabbed the medicine and taking it. Nia went back into the kitchen to recollected herself. As she did that, Gigi Ruth looked at her daughter.

She wasn't getting any better.

Even though Cassandra tried to hide it, she couldn't hide it from her momma. 

Back in the kitchen, Nia looked at the time, seeing it was almost time for her to leave. She knew her younger brother, Nate, wasn't up at 7:30 on a Saturday.

Nia walked out the kitchen to her brother's room. As she got to the door, she didn't even knocked.

As she walked in, she saw not one body but two.

"I know your dumbass don't have a girl in the bed!" Nia snapped by pull the cover off the bed. As the cover came off, she saw her brother and some girl from his high school.

When the covers got snatch off, Nate realized that his ass is in for it. Nate look at the foot of his bed, and saw his sister. He looked at her face, and it was giving attitude.

"Wake her up." Nia gritted out with her hand folded across her chest. Nate looked at the girl and he was scared. As Nia saw her brother being scare, she took matters in her own hands.

Nia grabbed the girl's foot, and get start dragging. As the girl started to feel herself being pull, she woke up immediately. Just as she recognized was happening, she hit the floor.

"Now little girl, you need to find your clothes and get out of this house! With that, I know you sneaked in through the window, however you are walk out of the house through the front door!" Nia hissed out to the girl , who started to cry, as she realized that Nia was pulling her out the bed and she got caught.

As the girl starting getting her stuff, Nia turned to her brother.

"For you, you are going to get dress and be working like a dog at the shop today! You have five minutes to be down here!" Nia shouted at her brother.

As the girl had her clothes on, Nia pointed for her to walk first. As Nia and the girl got to the dining room, Gigi Ruth spit out her oatmeal.

"Now I know this ain't Nikki's little girl up in here!" Gigi Ruth chuckled out while shaking her head. Cassandra looked behind her and was shocked by the girl walking out the house.

"Baby, don't be like your grandma and momma: a hoe!" Gigi Ruth shouted at her the girl as she got to the front door.

"Momma!" Cassandra sighed while shaking her head at her momma. Gigi Ruth just went back eating her food. Nia shut the door and went back into the dining room.

"I can't believe him! He knows better than that!" Nia shouted out while sitting down waiting on Nate. 

"Baby, it is okay. He is just a teenager!" Cassandra calmly said to her daughter.

"Momma, I just don't undestand! He needs dad! I just don't understand, why dad would just leave like that!" Nia barked out.

As Nia said something about her father, Cassandra stomach drops like it always does. Even though, Cassandra did tell the truth about their father, she didn't tell them all the truth.

As Cassandra was about to say something, Nate came into the dining room.

"Now Nate, I am going to tell you, you don't need to mess with them Jackson women because all I know that they give people the itch." Gigi Ruth teased her grandson, as she head to the door to get into the car.

Nia and Cassandra laughed as they head outside to the car too. Nate on the other hand, was scared. Nate ran outside and closed the door.

"Gigi, I am itching a little bit!" Nate uttered out as he got into the car.

——————————————————————-

12:00 pm

The shop was busy due to it being a Saturday. With the salon, Nia sat at the very end on the left of the row. 

With everybody chatting and people jumping in, Nia went to the front were Nate was at.

When she finally got up there, she saw him talking to a girl. Nia looked and just saw all her breast hanging over the desk. Nia went behind the desk, which catch the attention of both of them.

"Ummm, Nia, don't you see I'm busy." Nate said in a hushed tone trying to push his sister away. 

Nia looked up from the computer to her brother and the girl. The girl seem like a smart girl, with her dark melanin popping and her braces shining in her mouth.

"Honeybun," Nia spoke holding the girl hand, "My brother is a broke man! You don't want a broke man, so I suggest you go back sitting over there. Cause I bet he said that you the most beautiful girl he ever met. With that, he suggest y'all go to the park and kick it. Then he going ask you do you want to go to the movies which he going ask me for money. " Nia said to the girl whom didn't look happy.

As Nia finally saw who her next cilent was, she walk in the back. As for her brother, who was trying to recover from his sister outburst, the girl slap him and walked back to her seat.

Nate followed Nia back to her station.

"Why would you do that Nia! I already have to be at this dumb salon helping clean! I can't even get my haircut at Tre's place because you so mad at him for cheating on you! Let me have my damn life! " Nate hollered out in front of the whole salon. Everybody stop their conversation and looked at the siblings. With that, Gigi Ruth walked over there to straighten them out.

"Now y'all stop acting a damn fool! Nate go over to the barbershop and get your head cut. " Gigi Ruth boldly stated to the siblings while handing money to Nate. As Nate left, Gigi Ruth looked back at Nia and her face showed how she felt.

"I want you to say something. I dare you. Your brother need somebody that want mess up his hair. Justin. " Gigi Ruth joked while looking at Justin when walking back to her station. Everybody started to laughed at her.

"Well I do know how to cut Ms. Bump the Ends!" Justin snapped back with his marcel curler in his hand.

"Baby, ask your grandaddy about bumping the ends because he was bumping my ends all last night!" Gigi Ruth scream while taking the rollers out of her head. With that, everybody was dying with laughter.

Nia just shooked her head while grinning to herself while sitting in her chair. She looked around seeing that her client wasn't here yet. She went and got her phone from the back to see if she was still coming. 

While back there, one of the many people waiting in the shop shouted out.

"Oh God, everybody Tre is coming over here!" the lady shouted so the whole shop could hear. All the ladies and Justin was straighten themselves out. 

Tre was like the Denzel on the Westside. His always straight white teeth, with his low fade haircut, and that clean beard just make every women a little moist.

Also, Justin.

As the door open, all the ladies and Justin looked at him.

"Hey ladies." Tre smirked at the ladies and Justin looking at him like a pack of meat. 

"Hey Tre!" All the women shouted back while looking at Tre and the sweatpants he was wearing.

"Y'all are some hoes! Trevante don't want y'all ass! Some of y'all needed to be worrying about y'all baby daddies and if they giving you some child support! " Gigi Ruth shouted at all the women in the shop. 

All of them sighed and turn back to what they were doing.

Tre laughed and looked at Gigi Ruth and gave her a hug. With that, the person behind him held on to his leg a little harder.

"Well I kinda needed some help. My babygirl hair needs to be braid! I know y'all busy but I really need your help. " Three calmly stated while bringing the little girl from behind him.

Gigi Ruth looked at the little girl, along with everybody else. The girl, Brelynn, felt all the eyes at her.

"Daddy why are all these people looking at me!" Brelynn quietly stated on the verge of tears. Brelynn was a really shy little girl and daddies girl due to her mother dying during childbirth.

"Lets go in the back!" Gigi Ruth stated while walking in front of them. As they was walking behind Gigi, people started to notice the little girl. They were talking alot.

“ Oh God, that the child!”

“ Were is Nia?”

“ Ah damn, keep me under the dryer a little while longer so I can what is going to happen.”

Tre heard the comments and shooked his head. As they finally got to the back, he saw her.

The person he still loves.

As Nia was getting off the phone with her client, whom was not able to make her appointment, she put the phone back in her locker after it. As she turns around she see her Gigi, Tre, and Brelynn.

Nia was just left in shocked, while looking at the little girl. The same little girl, whose mother that Tre slept with during their relationship.

The same little girl, Nia wish was hers because she wanted to have all of Tre’s kid.

“ I did not know you was back here!” Gigi muttered while looking at her grandaughter. Gigi Ruth can see the hurt on her granddaughter face when she Brelynn and Tre. Nia shooked her head and walk pass them. However, Tre grabbed her arm. As Nia realize that, she started to looked at him like he was crazy.

“ I really need somebody to do her hair Nia. I don’t trust nobody but you to do it!  I was really hoping you didn’t have anyone.” Tre begged to Nia. Nia looked at Tre and saw the man that she still in love with after ten years.

Nia looked back at the the little girl, whom was looking at Nia. Nia walked over to her and smiled.

“ What’s your name?” Nia asked while smiling at her. Brelynn went further behind her daddy. 

“ It’s okay. My name is Nia. I see that you like to read books!” Nia smiled at the book in her hand.

“ My favorite book series is Harry Potter too.  Your daddy use to take me to get the books all the time in the city.” Nia giggled while remembering when Tre and her went to the city to stand in line for the new Harry Potter book. Brelynn smiled at Nia, whom wasn’t like the other women her dad brought around.

“ My name is Brelynn.” Brelynn answered while smiling at Nia. As Tre was looking at the interaction, his love for Nia expanded even more.

“ Babygirl, can Nia do your hair?” Tre asked as she saw that Brelynn wasn’t behind him anymore, but was standing in front of Nia smiling and talking.

“ Yes daddy, I want her too!” Brelynn answered excitedly while going back to talking to Nia. As Gigi Ruth realize that her client was still under the dryer she went to go back to check on her.

As she was beginning to open the door, she heard whispering. So Gigi Ruth do what she does best.

“ I know y’all nosey, black asses are not at this door!Y’all need to get some business before you try to see what others are doing! That is why most of y’all asses don’t have no man!” Gigi Ruth screech as she open the door seeing clients and hairstylists trying to listen.

“ Now Hattie, I know you done had a hip replacement. You say you can’t go to church, but you can come to a door to listen to somebodies business!” Gigi Ruth scream while shaking her head as she closed the door.

Tre shook her head and laughed at the crazy, old woman.

“Okay sweetie, my chair is right on the left at the end!” Nia said to Brelynn as she skip out the door to Nia’s chair. Nia realize that it was only her and Tre in the backroom.

She finally looked at him in the eye, those chocolate brown orbs, and looked at him for the first time in a long time. 

“ Well how much is it going to be?” Tre quietly mumbled out to ease the tension in the air. Nia just looked at him and shooked her head.

With that, she left and started on Brelynn’s hair.

——————————————————————

2:00 p.m.

“ Hey everybody, I got hotdogs, pasta salad, fried chicken, smothered pork chops, and some baked chicken plates! I also got all the Madea movies on DVD.” Ms.Linda shouted out as she came in with her a mobile food stand. 

Ms. Linda did everything from being the landlord, selling the food, to the bootleg DVDS.

Nia looked up as she finish parting the last section of hair on Brelynn. Brelynn was preoccupied with her book. Ms. Linda recongized the Brelynn in her seat.

Ms.Linda walked over to Nia’s station to have a little chat with her.

“ Hey Ms.Linda!” Brelynn said while smiling.

“ Hi baby, Nia doing a good job on your hair!” Ms. Linda said while giving a hug to Nia.

“ Have you talk to the person you needed to talk to Ms.Nia?” Ms.Linda questioned while looking at the mirror to check out her makeup.

“ No. We only talk about hair Ms.Linda.” Nia answered backed as she was starting to braid the last braid. Before Ms. Linda could answer, somebody start talking about how men ain’t shit.

This was a very hot topic in the shop for all the women, plus Justin.

“ Now that nigga, Jacquees, at the barbershop is not shit at all! He told me that I needed to leave like I was some hoe.” one of the hair clients in Dajai chair said disgustedly.

“ Well honey you are hoe!” Gigi Ruth laughed while sitting her chair. Everybody else start laughing with her.

With that, Brelynn laughed at herself. Nia notice, but she thought it was something in the book that was funny.

“ Well, Mr. All Goody Two Shoes, Allen, he is a hoe too!” Emily, one of the hairstylist, said while pressing out the girl hair.

“ Nerdy Allen?” Nia question remembering Allen in high school. Emily look towards her and gave her look that said she was right.

With that, Brelynn laughed even harder, and caught the attention of everybody.

“ This remind of the barbershop! They talk about y’all too!” Brelynn laughed even harder. Everybody in the shop looked at Brelynn.

“ Well for you,” Brelynn pointed to the girl in Dajai’s chair, “ They call you duck lips becuase you tried to swallowed Jaccquees lips when kissing him!” Brelynn stated while still laughing.

“ Also you,” Brelynn pointed to Emily, “ Allen thinks you a nice girl and he really likes you! However, he just stand the smell of your. I don’t remember what it is call, but I know it started with a v.” Brelynn finished laughing up. Everybody else was left in shock and gasp.

“ Oh hell no, they talking about like us like that! Lets go over there now with the little girl!” Dajai’s client shout while getting up and standing in the middle of the salon.

“ Wait hold up now,” Gigi Ruth went to the little girl, “ What they say about me ?” Gigi Ruth said in a cocky tone.

Brelynn laughed even harder while looking at Gigi Ruth.

“ Well they call you a old hag!” Brelynn finish laughing. Nia shooked her head thinking, WW3 is about to happen on the Westside streets.

“Oh hell naw, they going need Black Jesus because I am about to pistol whip all of them bastards!” Gigi Ruth shouted while walking out the door, with mostly everybody following behind her.

Brelynn looked at Nia, whom shooked her head. 

“ Did I do something wrong Nia?” Brelynn question with much concern.

“ Oh baby, it is okay, but WW3 is about to happen!” Nia help Brelynn out the chair to see what is about to go down.

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

Well.........

Me waiting for the next chapter to see how this shit about to pop off!!

Once again I hope you truly like it!!!

Please comment, reblog, and like!!!

Plus if you want to join the taglist comment too!!!

Taglist: @soufcakmistress​ @lovesunnyandmary​

@19jammmy @twistedcharismaaa @munteanhore @ljstraightnochaser @l-auteuse

[hydra-collector]

Whole: Chapter One

AO3

Fic Page (all chapters listed here)

Second Fic in the Series

Chapters Finished: 6/6

Ship: Intrulogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders (minor)

TW: self-harm, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, food, sex mention

Words: 3,630

Summary: 

Logan can't feel.

Because every time he does, someone gets hurt. His emotions have no place in the world. He vows to squash them down until finally, maybe they'll be gone. But it's not a good idea to suppress such an important part of yourself, to tear your sadness, happiness, anger, until you're left dry and empty.

And Logan doesn't understand that until he meets someone. Someone very, very special.

Note: I actually have this finished, it will be updating daily. I’m likely going to write some extra works, later in Remus and Logan’s lives.

Why are you yelling? Stop yelling, stop.

Logan didn’t know what else to do. He had to tell them why this was happening, they were wrong, he couldn’t control this. It was awful, this awful feeling that made him completely unable to focus while incredibly worried about how he wasn’t focusing. He was just trying to tell them why.

 But he didn’t have to yell.

He had no reason to be angry at them. They did nothing wrong. But he couldn’t help it. He wanted to scream and cry and hug his mom. He wanted her to understand what this was like. The fuzzy mold that dug into his brain and gave him fears that he didn’t want. The bricks that crawled into his chest and weighed him down and he couldn’t get up. But she didn’t understand them and he couldn’t explain, so he yelled.

 He hated yelling. It hurt, it scratched, he knew it was bad and he should stop, but he couldn’t. He needed to cry and he did cry, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to destroy something, he was angry, he wanted to punch someone.

 He couldn’t.

 He was nine, he shouldn’t be doing this to his mother. She was good and kind, and all he did was hurt her. He was awful to her, and she tried to help, but he couldn’t stop from getting annoyed, or angry, or sad. He couldn’t help but wail when the bricks got too heavy, he wanted them to be lighter. He had to move, had to hit something when the fears wouldn’t go away. He was scared his mother hated him, that she would abandon him with his brother. It didn’t make any sense, but he knew what he was doing to her and he didn’t stop. He was too much work for her.

 Two years later, he was the same. Still loud, still full of emotions. His throat hurt all the time, his mother kept getting fed up (she’d tried to take him to a therapist and that didn’t work), his brother Patton was scared for his health, and his dog wouldn’t let him anywhere near her. He’d developed ways to stop bothering them, though. Hold his hand to his mouth and bury his head in the pillow until the frustration went away. Bite his arm so he couldn’t keep screaming. Hit his head again and again and again until he couldn’t be angry anymore. It hurt. It was calming.

 He’d managed to become a bit less of a nuisance, at least. He’d tried to stop explaining the bricks and the mold and just let them be. They always fade after a while to something manageable. His tears were his own now. His emotions were his, and no one else needed them.

 He tried to be happier for his mom. He spent more time with Patton, trying to make him happy. Patton was concerned for him, and he appreciated that, but he knew asking for help would only make them suffer, and they weren’t allowed to suffer. Only he could suffer.

 He vowed to become a robot someday. Where he didn’t want to scream or hurt people. Someday it would be gone, everything would be okay. Maybe he’d have a wife and kids that he didn’t hurt like the people he loved now. They would love him and he would deserve it.

 Another two years and it had a name.

 Depression. Anxiety. Mental illness. They told him what he was and he hated himself even more. He was a thirteen year old being told that he’d been sick since he was a child. He was given ways to cope. He’d never tried to bleed.

 He did the day he learned he could.

 It was freeing. Hitting and biting was hard, but slicing his skin was so easy and so pretty. The blood that rose from within told him that he was a person, and an awful one. If anyone ever saw, it would be the end of this.

 He didn’t yell anymore. Most of the time he was absolutely silent. Yes, he participated in class so he didn’t get a bad grade, but only the bare minimum. He never raised his voice, never allowed himself to laugh too loud. His brother was scared for him, but he didn’t know the half of it. He had few friends, only one other anxious teen named Virgil. He felt more comfortable talking about fear and self-hate, but only in a joking way. He had to close himself off from everyone. He couldn’t hurt anyone.

 His mother had, again, tried to get him to go to therapy. She said it would help his anxiety. God, she didn’t even know. He stopped cutting his arms pretty early on, since his mother got concerned that he always wore long sleeves. His legs got all the more blood on them.

 How could he have this with people who care? How could he hate himself this much when nothing had ever happened to him? Why had this ever happened?

 He didn’t know.

 Fifteen was his worst year yet.

 He’d made so many friends this year, yet it all got worse. He felt like he couldn’t breathe most days, like every day he was dying. He wanted that, he wanted this feeling gone. How could he heal after eight god damn years?

 It was a warm October morning today. The sun shone on his back, glittering across the autumn leaves. The normally boring school looked orange and majestic. Students laughed and chatted as he passed by.

 It had been a bad month. He was sure that he’d only been happy for a couple hours in the past thirty days. He didn’t understand why he hadn’t killed himself yet.

 Patton was talking to him about something, probably about another cute kid. Ever since he’d come out as pan, he’d endlessly talked about the people he found attractive. It was exhausting for Logan to hear his brother point out girls he might like. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to come out.

 He wanted to date. It might be nice to have someone to kiss and cuddle, to offer comfort when the days got bad. To have more comfort than cold, sharp blades. He couldn’t do that, though. He’d hurt enough people already.

 Still, he couldn’t help but fantasize about some guy that would share his interest in science, talk to him about space and chemistry and biology. He wasn’t good enough for someone like that. Someone that would never date him.

 He waved to Roman and Virgil as they passed. They were probably scheming some new way to get out of doing classwork. Logan sped up, realizing it was nearly time for him to organize Ms. Kachinsky’s books. He had to finish before she left her room in the morning to teach. There was supposed to be another kid, too, so he couldn’t be late.

 “Hey, Lo, where’re you going?”

 “Kachinsky, remember?”

 “Ohhh, yeah.”

 The building was cold inside. He headed into his teacher’s room, decorated blandly with supposedly motivational posters. He’d volunteered to do this job, no one else was going to organize encyclopedias for a 70-year-old woman. He didn’t know why she even had so many.

 As he walked into the half-renovated closet, he was presented with many emotions.

 One, this man was munching on a sheet of paper.

 Two, he was not adhering to the dress code.

 Three, Logan was glad he wasn’t because a crop top and booty shorts looked damn good on him.

 “Um. Hello.”

 The teenager looked up, paper in hand. He stood up and tossed it in the trash, swallowing. Logan pointed slightly to the trash can.

 “You were eating a piece of paper.”

 “Yeah?”

 “That doesn’t seem like it should be healthy.”

 “I looked it up, it’s pretty much fine. Are you here to start on the books?”

 Logan nodded and the two of them got to work in silence. The boy was pretty, he had a slight mustache that doesn’t work for many people, but it did for him. He looked a little like Roman, but with a broader build and stronger jaw. He was exactly the type of person that Logan would have designed as the most attractive, in his opinion, if he would have ever designed an attractive man.

 “How’d you get roped into this?”

 The boy turned his brown eyes to look at Logan expectantly, who wasn’t expecting any kind of interaction with him.

 “I volunteered.”

 “Oh, teacher’s pet?”

 “She’s 70. No one else was going to help.”

 “Fair. This is my substitute for detention ‘cause I have to work after school. I’m Remus.”

 He stuck out his hand, which Logan took.

 “Logan.”

 “Oh, really? I was kinda looking into that name. One of my friends stole it, though.”

 A look of confusion crossed over Logan’s face, but it disappeared as Remus held out the trans pin on his jacket. He noticed now how many pins there really were. There was the trans one, he/him, a weed symbol (however he got away with that), a skull one, an atom one, a chemistry tube, a gay flag, and various other little ones. They offered quite a bit of insight onto his personality, which seemed more and more attractive as their interaction went on.

 Remus kept talking to him, which he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t have much of a personality, and what he did have, he didn’t really show. Most of his personality was just extreme emotions. He didn’t show those, either.

 They did get to talking, though. Remus somehow pried out Logan’s interest in science and his plans for the future. They talked about how they’d do anything in STEM if they could. They talked about how annoying humanities majors were, and how annoying they were to humanities majors.

 They finished the books, and Remus’s conversational skills got Logan to stay a tiny bit longer. Too much longer.

 Before they even knew, there was a click at the door. The closet was big, so it wasn’t like they were right next to the door.

 “What was that?”

 Logan headed cautiously to the door and turned the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

 “We’re locked in.”

 Remus whispered “shit” under his breath before running to the door and banging loudly. The sound was fast and loud. They were locked in, they wouldn’t make it to class, they’d get in trouble, he’d be awful all over again-

 He couldn’t breathe. He was a failure all over again. He needed to get to class, his nails dug into his skin, his razor could help now, but he was shaking now and everything was wrong and this was supposed to be a simple morning thing and he shouldn’t have stayed and he shouldn’t have liked Remus and he shouldn’t feel anything, not anger, not fear, not sadness, not love-

 “Hey, hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

 This is the first time you meet him and he’ll already know you’re fucked up.

 Logan dodged away from him, tripping over a chair and falling on the floor. He could barely control his movements, his arms and hands wouldn’t listen to him, and he was already seeing this, he was never going to get a boyfriend or make another friend and he was dumb for thinking that. He grasped his upper arms with his hands, digging his nails into them, hoping it would help enough to stay fucking still.

 “Logan, can you take my hands? If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I know we don’t know each other, I just wanna help.”

 Logan tentatively reached out his hand, well aware of the indents on his arm. Remus’s hand was warm and strong, so he reached out his other hand as well. He rocked slightly, trying to steady his breathing.

 “If you’re worried about getting in trouble, they can’t exactly blame us for getting trapped in a closet. It’s only one day, I’m sure it won’t hurt to miss a class or two. You can make up work and you can talk to your teachers if you’re concerned about missing important stuff.”

 “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks. I’m sorry for wasting your time with that.”

 “Don’t be. It’s okay.”

 Logan leaned against the wall now, holding his knees. Remus slid down beside him.

 Why do you feel comfortable with him?

 Even from their distance, Logan could feel his presence there.

 You just met him.

 “Whaddya wanna do?”

 “...I think I have travel checkers.”

 “...Sure.”

 Logan searched through his bag, pulling out a tiny box and opened it. The little magnetic pieces had to be pried off of the board and rearranged. They played probably over ten times before the game couldn’t sustain their attention any longer. Logan started trying to stack them, knowing it wouldn’t work, but hey, he was bored. Remus took the ones Logan wasn’t using to form the shape of male genitals.

 “Hey, could I borrow some of yours?”

 Logan wasn’t getting anywhere anyway. He pushed his pieces over to Remus and leaned back on the wall. He checked his watch. It was already an hour past the time they were supposed to be in class, and no one had come by yet. They probably weren’t going to until Ms. Kachinsky came back to get her lunch. Since her room was being renovated, she was teaching health either in other classrooms or outside if they got desperate.

 Remus looked rather proud of himself when he finished his creation. 

 “So we’re stuck in here for another few hours, with nothing to occupy us but encyclopedias, whatever we have in our bags, and each other.”

 “The things you could do to someone in here… With someone. That’s not better.”

 “Who cares what anything implies at this point?”

 Remus joined Logan against the wall, staring blankly with him. 

 “You got your phone?”

 “Didn’t think I’d need it. How about you?”

 “Broken. Like it usually is. At least I have a job. And a brother.”

 Remus paused for a moment before speaking again.

 “I suppose we’re kinda obligated to become friends. After spending so much time alone in a closet.”

 “We could play a game. You do that with friends, right?”

 “Never have I ever been stuck in a closet before.”

 Logan held up his fingers and put one down.

 “If we’re talking metaphorical closets, yeah.”

 He took a moment to realize what he’d just said. He’d half-outed himself to a practical stranger. He hadn’t come out to anyone yet.

 “Oh, I guess I told a lie then.”

 Remus put one of his own fingers down.

 “...I’ve literally never come out before. You’re the first person and I barely know you. Heh, maybe I should actually tell my brother so he starts pointing out cute guys instead of girls.”

 “I’m honored. Your turn.”

 “Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll go for the boring one. Never have I ever been in a relationship. Not surprised, though.”

 “Can I be excused ‘cause it was a girl?”

 “Fair. You go.”

 “Mm… Never have I ever had a dog.”

 “Really? You seem like a dog person.”

 Logan put his second finger down, shifting slightly.

 “Nah. My dad’s allergic. I keep trying to sneak one in anyway, but my brother always catches me. Didn’t think it’d be that hard to get him on board. He loves dogs. Side effect of being the perfect child, I guess. You don’t let yourself do what you want. My parents are good parents, they just… trust him a bit more.”

 “It’s not so bad to be independent. No trans kid with transphobic parents ever chopped off their hair, or binded for the first time, or wore a wig or a dress with their parents’ permission.”

 “No one ever found their passion from someone who tried to choose their path.”

 “Very insightful.”

 “Thank you. Anyway, it’s your turn.”

 “Never have I ever worn a crop top.”

 “Hey, that’s cheating. You should, though, you’d look good.”

 “Would I?” Logan’s cheeks dusted slightly pink.

 “Would it be weird to offer you to try mine on?”

 “Probably, but I don’t think either of us are very normal. Plus, you develop a certain kind of relationship with someone you’re locked in the closet with.”

 Logan’s small blush only darkened as they turned away from each other and he heard fabric moving about. Remus tossed the shirt over his shoulder, and probably blushed as Logan took his own shirt off.

 Remus had buttoned his jacket to cover his chest. It didn’t completely cover it, but it didn’t matter to him all that much (Logan, however, turned red when he saw it). The shirt fit reasonably well, a little loose but it looked good nonetheless. Logan was hesitant, but Remus might have thought it looked very good according to the color of his cheeks.

 “Didn’t think you could get much hotter. I was very wrong.”

 Well that confirmed it.

 Logan didn’t usually get flustered so much that other people could tell, but this had triggered the darkest shade of pink to cross his cheeks. Remus giggled at that, which only made them darker.

 “Hah, made you blush.”

 “Was that your only intention?”

 “Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I meant it.”

 “We barely even know each other.”

 “Are you saying I’m not allowed to flirt?”

 “Do what you want, I guess. Sure. Flirt. All laws are broken, we’re locked in a closet.”

 “Whatever I want?”

 “Now it’s enough.”

 “Fine. Got any more ideas?”

 “Search for a morsel of food in my bag, maybe.”

 “I might have chips in my bag. If not, I may have to resort to cannibalism.”

 “Then you wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. And didn’t you say I was hot? Pretty sure a half-eaten body won’t be as nice to look at.”

 “You never know.”

 Remus found a small bag of chips in his bag, opening it and handing Logan some chips. They both munched quietly until it was done, then returned to their placement on the wall.

 “Oh, do you want your shirt back?”

 “Not really, but I should take it. Someday when we’re not trapped in a closet I’m gonna buy you a crop top.”

 They changed back into their original clothes, Remus nearly stealing a glance at Logan’s shirtless body.

 “How much time do you think we’ve got left?” Remus turned his head lazily towards the other boy.

 “Probably another hour or so.”

 “We never finished the game, did we?”

 “No. Your turn, I believe.”

 “Except now we both have to put a finger down ‘cause you wore the crop top.”

 “That’s not how it works!”

 “Hey, I put a finger down for metaphorical closets. Plus I let you wear my crop top, it’s only fair.”

 “Well… I guess I have two left now.”

 “Hah, three. I’m winning. Never have I ever,” Remus began, “eaten pie. It’s the one sweet thing I’ve never had. My mom tries to make it sometimes, but it always gets burnt. I’ve tried to convince them to let me eat it anyway.”

 “Hm. Me neither.”

 “Seriously? Hasn’t basically everyone eaten pie?”

“Too much sugar.”

 “At least it’s fruit, though. I mean, you accepted the chips, those aren’t exactly healthy.”

 “That’s an exception. We don’t have any other food.”

 “Well, fair. Your turn.”

 “Never have I ever… heh, never have I ever been happy. Shit, no, didn’t mean to say that.”

 It’s not that inaccurate, though.

 “Guess we’d both have to put a finger down. You’re smiling.”

 “Hey, doesn’t mean I’m happy.”

 “I know how smiling works. If it’s real, your eyes squint at least a little bit. Your eyes are squinting a lot. It’s cute.”

 Logan accepted this and put another finger down. He hated feeling because he knew what it did to people when he did. When he was happy, he wasn’t on guard. He had to be careful about what he was doing, else he could end up being insensitive.

 “Okay. If I can get one more, I win. Never have I ever been on a plane.”

 “God, I wish.”

 “Oh, come on. If you end up beating me, I’ll eat your homework.”

 “Never have I ever had to copy someone’s homework.”

 “Well I guess you managed to get both of us to one. My threat still stands. Never have I ever played piano.”

 “Nope.”

 “I’m gonna change that at somepoint. You’d be hot playing piano.”

 Logan leaned in closer.

 “Never have I ever been as pretty as you.”

 “We both lose.”

 “That- doesn’t even work.”

 “Sure it does.”

 “God, I barely know you and I’m flirting with you.”

 “Like we’ve both said, locked in a closet. Who cares what we do? Honestly I’d be down to fuck if we weren’t in school.”

 “We’re teenagers.”

 “So? Heh, we’ve already taken our clothes off in front of each other.”

 “We weren’t looking at each other.”

 They heard footsteps from outside. Remus got up immediately and started knocking on the door as loudly as he could. They thankfully got closer, and they were both relieved when the doorknob turned and the classroom’s light poured in and it wasn’t just a dim lamp lighting the room. Logan felt as if he’d lost something, despite the return to class supposedly being a good thing. He felt just a little bit emptier.

 “Ms. Kachinsky! I apologize, it seems as if we were accidentally locked in.”

 “Oh no, I’m sorry, boys. I mean, I’m the one who locked you in here, I’m guessing. Well, you’d better get to class. I’ll send you both with a note.”

 She wrote them both a note and they went on their way, no way of knowing what she’d just created.

[seeds-and-sins]

F**kin’ Diabolical (Chapter 4)

Master List

Pairing: Homelander / Original Female Character, Billy Butcher / Original Female Character

Rating: M (Strong language, sexual themes)

Decription: Carly Danvers is a reporter/radio show host/annoying little piece of- For reasons unknown to Vought, she decided to start a one man investigation on Vought’s operation. Her efforts had been quite successful so far, so much so that Stillwell would have done anything to see the young girl dead. Turns out Stillwell didn’t have to do anything at all, while one piece of evidence against Vought causes Danvers to fly too close to the sun. And Homelander flies after her.

Chapter Summary; Homelander didn’t realize that getting Carly to the Vought tower was only half the battle.

Her apartment complex was small, but in a cozy kind of way. She got lucky with the expanse of square footage the landlord had offered her, considering that she had seen other apartments and hers was the biggest in the building. At first, it was all concrete floors, scratchy wall paper, and a broken sliding glass door onto the balcony, but once she started making more money, renovations came into play. With Carly’s creative expertise, the place was a fun house in not time.

   The floors now were sandalwood and the walls painted a darker beige, where the longest wall was left a solid white, covered in doodles and painted pictures that she had spent hours on. She opened up the room to expand the windows out, now they spanned around a corner of the living room. The living room opened up at the entrance, where an L-shaped sectional with brown leather graced her guests as they entered. Off to their left would be a wall with an entertainment center and a flat screen tv, to their right the crimson granite counter tops that stood with bar stools, on the other side a kitchen of that counter. Aside from the hallway that led to her room, her apartment was fairly open, lots of seating areas because she liked variety. There were bean bags and stools for her bar, which had an array of liquors that she had saved up over the years. Her kitchen was closed in by the counter, an island in the center, with a dual sided refrigerator that she also had worked her ass off to get. 

  It was fairly lit, but sometimes she liked to dim the lights and turn on a flashlight to read her books with, as she cuddled into a giant bean bag. In her bedroom was a king sized bed, with tons of pillows, that was her favorite part of the apartment. She often drew pictures and played on her guitar in there, that was her safe space, where no one could bother her. 

    Across from her lived a rough looking, older man by the name of Billy Butcher. He was rowdy, single, and he had the cutest dog she had ever seen. They didn't spend time together or anything, but they certainly talked more with each other than they did with the other residents. Down the hall was a fresh frat boy/jock, and across from him was a single mother and her two kids. Billy and Carly felt more alike, more drawn to each other, so whenever they just so happened to cross paths they would share a few words. 

"Ey, I listened to your show today, definitely sticking one up to those cunts."

"Right?! They deserve it." They both shared laughs, cracked jokes, were extremely profane, and even a little too open with each other at times. Carly and Butch were similar in that they didn't have a sensor, so God forbid the two of them were ever together for a few minutes in passing. That poor mother had to shield her childrens’ ears in the elevator more than a few times. 

"Can you bloody believe that they even stretch that far?"

"I don't even want to imagine that happening to anyone, not even me."

"Well, its a bloody process I am sure..." Naturally, as they crossed paths, the two of them spoke that night before she went to the lab. She was grabbing a few things, Allen and the Doctor waiting outside in the car. As she shut her door, jiggling the key with a twist, jacket slung over her shoulder, he was also exiting his apartment. 

"Oh, well, what do you know? My favorite celebrity." He teased, she faced him with a grin and an eye roll. 

"Oh look, my favorite asshat." She mocked in the worst cockney accent she could muster.

"You shut your pretty mouth there, those are fighting words." They started towards the elevator with laughter bubbling up from them, cheeks rosy, God it would be a sickening sight to anyone. The two of them were like peas in a pod, munchkins, cuddle buddies or some shit like that. "So, where are ya' off to tonight?" He pressed the button to the elevator for her.

"Some stupid shit with Vought, you know me."

"I like stupid shit. Does it have anything to do with your show this evening?" The doors slid open with a ding. 

"Sure does, between you and me..." She came in closer to whisper into his ear, exhaling a giddy giggle behind a cupped hand. "I am breaking into a Vought Lab." He smirked, shaking his head, but never in disapproval as much as it was at the ridiculous stunts she'd pull. The door slid shut, the both of them now completely alone in an elevator. Nothing much different than the hundreds of times before.

"You think you'd have any time for drinks afterwards?" She blushed at the question, just drinks, right? No, she felt like the question was more than that and the way he awkwardly leaned on the elevator wall, said so much. As if he was nervous she would say no, or something worse. 

"I'd love to, but I don't know when I will be back." He nodded his head, fiddling with his thumbs out in front of him. "But hey, how bout tomorrow for sure?" His face lit up with that shit-eating grin of his. 

"Yeah, I'd like that." The elevator doors dinged open, but Billy didn't make a move when Carly stepped from the elevator. She faced him with her own grin and smiled, he waved at her. "You be careful there, sweetheart, some of us like seeing your ugly face every day." As the doors slowly began to close she stuck her middle finger up at him, and he stuck his tongue out. Children at best, that's always what it seemed like when they were together. When he was gone and they were apart, always after seeing each other, Carly felt empty almost, like she was missing out. She always shoved that away.

"Ms. Danvers! Are you going to answer me?!" An aggravated Madelyn shot out from across the desk, Carly blinked her eyes, coming to from her daze. She met Stillwell's steely gaze, Homelander pacing around the desk, eyes targeted on Carly in some threatening fashion. 

"W-What-What did you ask again?" Madelyn groaned, straightening herself and plastering a fake smile onto her lips, she crossed her fingers over the desk. 

"Did anybody else know you were going to the lab last night?" She stated more firmly, pronouncing each word with venomous emphasis, as if she was talking to a three year old child.

"No." Carly responded instantly, perhaps too soon, as Homelander's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. He was surprised. Carly had always been fairly good at lying to him, better than most, but she was in an emotional vulnerable state, not on her A game truly. Madelyn rolled her eyes and then sat back in her seat, arms crossed.

"You do know the position, you've put me in, right?" Carly sighed, shakily holding her hands on her lap, she gulped. 

"Look, I just want to get back to normal." 

"Back to normal?" Madelyn chuckled at the thought, she stood up and waltzed around the desk over to the window that spanned the wall of her office. Homelander stopped pacing at the other side of the room, still watching Carly like a hawk. "You are as powerful as Homelander now, Danvers, there is no normal for you ever again." She twisted in her seat to consider Madelyn with sorrow filled eyes, and Homelander couldn't hide his deep huff of amusement. Carly tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill, she had never felt so weak or insignificant in front of anybody before. Heck, she'd stand up to Homelander any day before this shit happened. Now she wanted to hide in a cave and wallow in her own self pity.

"Maybe there is a way, right? The doctor told me its genetic modification, all we have to do is convert my DNA back to what it was officially."

"But you would die." Homelander said with sardonic glimmer in his tone, he shuffled around the coffee table and plopped down onto the couch. His arm rose up, spanning the length of the back rest. He held his other gloved hand up, crushing his fist into a ball. "It blows my mind that you would want to be normal again, Carly. You have all the power in the world-"

"And I don't want it." She shot out, frustration taking residence over the desperation and she stood. She held her palms out and shook her head. "This isn't who I am. I am a simple girl, made of flesh and bone, nothing more." Homelander opened his mouth to reply, but Stillwell beat him to it. 

"You are right, you are absolutely right. And I might just have some options for you, Danvers." Madelyn paraded back over to her desk, perhaps she was having more fun with this than she expected she would. When Homelander told her about Carly’s situation, Stillwell was pissed beyond explanation. Here she was wanting the girl dead, and now the only person that could truly make that decision themselves was Homelander. Madelyn knew Homelander wouldn’t kill Carly, at least not without riding this high first.

"I have two options for you..."

"I don't have time for games. This isn't a joke." Stillwell laughed, leaning onto her desk with one hand, the other propped on her hip. 

"I'm not so excited about this either, but this might just be good for us."

"Whatever you have to say, it better not be what I think it is."

"It better be what I think." Homelander stood, soon coming to stand alongside Carly with that grin. 

"Option one," She placed a hand on her chest, "My preference..." She added slyly, and then, "We pretend you died from the fire, get you a nice place in Alaska and you live the rest of your days in solitude." Stillwell patiently waited, as if there wasn't a second option, and if there was she definitely didn't want Carly to have the ability to choose.

"What's the second option?" Homelander's voice was all too solid, glaring at Stillwell, forcing her to procure that second option like her life depended on it. It probably did. 

"Alright," Stillwell sighed, "We make you a hero. You denounce your previous claims against Vought and in return you live more famous than you've ever imagined." Since Carly woke up that morning, there was a stray thought that constantly teased to slip past her lips. The knowledge that she had against Vought, she could fight them, and now, more powerful than ever, she could fight them hard. Compound V was real, she was proof of that, all the heroes were. The compound injected into babies as if they were lab rats, the thought made her sick. She was reminded of why she was here, how she ended up in that lab. Now being offered a chance to be one of them, knowing all the cruel things they've done, if anything it made her heart race. 

   Homelander must have felt it too. The feeling made her want to do something but she didn't even know what. Impulses working through her mind, the need to just jump out that window, the realization that nothing can kill her now. Perhaps Homelander, but still. The options before her, and she had always been one to make an option three, to force it. Now there was no choice, one or the other, they say. Homelander’s hand landed on her shoulder and he laughed, harshly patting her on the back, a pat that would have anybody else coughing up their broken bones. 

"She'll do it, option two. She'll be wonderful!"

"I would like her to say it." Stillwell didn't like the feeling of not having control. Although for so long Homelander had been loose, the reins were gone, this was still different. She hated knowing that Homelander wanted Carly around and that she couldn't do anything about it. 

"Okay." Carly found herself choking out, despite her better judgment. She didn't know what logic came with the response, but she knew that it felt sound. Like something was in her path, something big, like it was worth it, like the universe was talking to her. 

"Perfect." Homelander said with such joy in his voice, now both hands on her shoulders, massaging at her neck. She closed her eyes and allowed him to shake her forward and backward for a moment. 

"I will work with my marketing team. Until then, Homelander can keep an eye on you." Stillwell hated that too, but the girl had zero to no control over her powers. Carly could destroy this whole building and without Homelander around, there would be no one to stop her.

"I've been waiting for this moment. So exciting..." Both women glared at each other, both for different reasons. "And I have already picked a name." Stillwell crossed her arms, cocking her head at Homelander, trying to hide the agitation surging through her. The level of absolute excitement he was feeling struck a nerve in Stillwell, the hero was crossing a big line.

"Oh, you have, have you?"

"Lady Liberty." He held his hands up like the name was gospel, like it was the most obvious name, the most fantastic name. Carly admitted to herself the fact that he even thought of a name was extremely unsettling, like this had been his plan all along. "Come on guys, get with the program." He waltzed over to the office door, now fixed after yesterday's door slamming incident. He waited, gesturing to Carly as he motioned out the door. "Let's go. Come on, the more we wait, the less time you have to learn those new powers of yours." Carly didn't think she'd ever beg in her life, but as she left Stillwell's office, that last glance to Stillwell was full of silent, raw begging. The last person she'd thought she'd ever beg for help, beg for a plan, beg for safety from him. But both of them knew, Homelander was not letting Carly go anytime soon. Carly made her choice, the moment she entered that lab.

[scumbagg]

Clemens Point

Ruby x Charles, Death Squad and VDL.

Warnings: the F word, injury.

Thanks once again to the writing queen @verai-marcel​ and the photoshop queen @theunholyoutlaw​ for the Ruby & Charles pic ❤❤

“Mr Smith, the stew is ready if you’d like to grab a bowl.”

“Thank you, Ms Grimshaw.”

“Anything new?”

“No, she hasn’t woken yet. I’ll find you when she does.”

Ruby stirs at the voices close by. She opens her eyes to blinding light and looks around, realising she’s laying in a cot inside a covered tent. More voices can be heard outside, and somewhere nearby a dog barks as a child laughs.

Ruby looks around and sees Charles Smith sitting in a chair by the entrance to the tent. He’s facing away from her, watching the back of an old woman walk away. Ruby tries to sit up, and immediately regrets it; the pain coming from her left ribcage is unbearable and she groans in agony, flopping back down on the bed. Gasping, she rips the covers from her to look down at her side. The left side of her abdomen is covered with bandages. She’s about to rip the bandage off when two big strong hands grab her wrists and pin them down to her sides.

“You… probably don’t wanna do that.” Ruby looks up into a pair of warm brown eyes. Charles is still holding her wrists down, but loosens his grip when she stops struggling. “Glad to see you’re awake and lively, though.” He chuckles at her frustration.

“Where am I and how did I get here?” Ruby looks around once more. She can smell water nearby, but it doesn’t smell like the river or the swamps.

“Clemens Point, just west of Rhodes.” Charles answers simply. “Arthur and I brought you back here after one of those men shot you,” he says, nodding at her bandaged ribcage. “The bullet went straight through, luckily.”

“Why’d you have to get involved?” Ruby demands. “I had it covered! I could’ve handled it myself… without getting injured.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. But you definitely would’ve caused some damage, and I think you’d rather not set your business on fire along with half the town.” Charles frowns. “You thirsty?” He asks suddenly.

Ruby realises her throat feels dryer than New Austin, and nods. Charles immediately gets up and heads out of the tent. Ruby watches him leave, frowning at his back. “She’s awake.” She hears him tell someone out of view.

Footsteps approach hurriedly, and Stevie and Kira come into view. Ruby gasps.

“Stevie? Kira? What are you two doing here?”

“I was on guard duty when Arthur and Charles brought you in,” Kira answers. “This is the Van Der Linde Gang.”

It’s as if a light flicks on in Ruby’s brain. “Oh! Of course! Javier and John were in the saloon the day the Lemoyne Raiders shot the place up trying to get to me. I didn’t realise it was them, though. I only heard him,” she nods in Charles’ direction, “shouting their names. Which also makes sense as to why you’re here.” She smirks at Stevie.

Stevie smiles slyly. “Yes, I was here for John, obviously. Kira came and got me as soon as you arrived here yesterday. But speaking of him-” She also nods her head towards the tent flaps. “He hasn’t left-”

“Wait-” Ruby cuts her off. “Did you say I arrived here yesterday?! I’ve been out of it for a whole day?!”

“Well…” Kira pulls out her gold pocket watch. “A day and a half, actually. You were bleeding pretty badly when they brought you back. Some of the gang members fixed you up, and you’d do well to leave that bandage on.” She adds, watching Ruby’s hand subconsciously move to her bandaged ribcage.

“Hey,” Stevie asks suddenly. “You thirsty?”

Ruby frowns. “Why do people keep asking me that? And yes I am, but Mr Smith went to get me something, I think..” She trails off, looking out the tent past Stevie and Kira.

The two women by the bed exchange a look that doesn’t go unnoticed by Ruby.

“What is it?” She demands.

“I’m surprised he left you,” Stevie smirks. “This is the longest he’s been away from your side since you arrived.”

Ruby narrows her eyes. “You make that sound like a good thing.”

“Actually, Ruby,” Kira quips. “It ain’t a bad thing.” She looks at Ruby warmly. “I haven’t spent much time around him, but Charles seems like a pretty decent guy. He pulls more than his fair share around camp, and Arthur seems to trust him, so I do too. Sometimes I trust Arthur’s judgement more than Javier’s.” She rolls her eyes.

“Yes,” adds Stevie. “I’ve only ever heard good things from John about him, and John don’t like just anybody.”

Ruby sighs. The movement of her ribcage expanding sends shooting pains across her whole abdomen and her face contorts in a pained grimace. Kira and Stevie immediately move over her, Stevie pinning Ruby’s arms back as her hands make their way to her wound once more.

“Fucking Lemoyne Raiders,” Ruby gasps, attempting to get up. “I’m going to fucking.. kill.. every last one of them.”

“Not in this state, you’re not,” says Kira firmly, pushing Ruby back down onto the bed. Even in her weak state, Ruby is unsurprised at Kira’s strength; as petite as she was, Ruby had seen Kira throw grown men to the ground before.

Ruby groans defeatedly. “Wait ‘til I find those bastards’ location,” she growls. “There’ll be no such thing as the Lemoyne Raiders once I’m finished with them.”

“And we’ll be right there with you,” says Stevie. “But for now, you need to get your strength back.”

Ruby looks up at her two friends, trying to find the words to thank them, but at that moment Charles re-enters the tent holding a bowl of stew and a bottle of beer.

“So, all I could find was beer, but I did bring you some stew. The camp cook, Pearson, ain’t the best cook, but it’s… edible.” Charles shrugs.

Ruby thanks Charles, attempting to sit up but struggling. Kira and Stevie scoot back and share a knowing look as Charles hurriedly sets the bottle and bowl next to the bed before placing a hand under her back.

“Need a hand?” he asks.

“Sure, thanks,” says Ruby grudgingly, annoyed at having to accept the help. She carefully wraps her arm around his shoulders as he places his other hand under her knees, gingerly shifting her so she is sitting up in bed. As he hands her the bowl of stew, Kira stands up.

“Well, I’ve gotta get back to guard duty. Stevie, you should find Roxy and let her know Ruby’s fine.” She looks at Stevie pointedly, and nods towards Ruby and Charles, raising her eyebrows before exiting. Stevie stands immediately, taking the hint.

“I’ll see what I can find out about the Raiders. I know Roxy had some trouble with them a while back.. I’m sure she’ll be eager to help. We’ll come check on you tomorrow.” She glances at Charles one last time as she leaves.

Ruby chuckles to herself at her friends’ subtleness, ignoring the pain in her side. Charles doesn’t seem to pick up on the exchange and sits down in the chair facing the bed.

“So what do you think?” Charles asks, nodding at the bowl of stew in Ruby’s hand.

“Did he.. empty a whole sack of salt into this?” She looks at the stew sceptically.

Charles chuckles. “Oh - ” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a strip of green. “Add some oregano, it’ll help with the flavour, at least.”

Ruby takes the herb gratefully. “Thank you,” she says, mixing it into her stew and spooning it into her mouth. The oregano made the stew almost nice.

Charles watches her eat with a curious expression.

“What, never seen a girl eat before?” Ruby asks irritably.

“What happened there?” He uses his own hand to gesture towards his eye, indicating Ruby’s scar that ran straight down her left eyebrow and over her cheek. Ruby places the bowl down on the bed and ducks her head so it was out of his view, something she had come to subconsciously do after all the years of shame from it.

“Don’t look at it,” she mumbles. “Please,” she adds, her eyes lifting to meet his. Charles’ hand gently lifts her chin so her gaze is level with his.

“You still look beautiful,” he says quietly, his eyes boring into hers. 

Ruby scoffs.

“A beautiful badass?” he amends, giving her a sheepish smile. .

“Much better,” Ruby says indignantly, returning to her stew. “I’ll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.” She nods, using her eyebrows to indicate towards the slash running across his right cheek and ending at the corner of his mouth.

Charles chuckles darkly, a sound that seems to come from deep within his chest. “I don’t want to send you running for the mountains. Maybe one day,” he says, standing up. “But for now, you need to heal. Unfortunately, you are going to have another scar under those bandages, but it just makes you even scarier.” He smiles as he heads out of the tent.

Ruby hears the question under it all: maybe one day… did that mean he intended to stay around? Suddenly, she remembers something.

“Hey – Charles! Bones?”

“What?” He turns, a puzzled look on his face.

“My horse.”

“Oh, right. He’s fine – he’s out with the other horses, being taken care of. Funny, actually. We didn’t even have to lead him back with us, he just followed along behind us the whole way here.”

The sun is beginning to set over the campsite, reflecting a bright yellow glow from the water over the camp as Charles walks away towards the water. Ruby watches him, wondering who this handsome stranger was and why he was being so kind to her.

  Ruby remains in Clemens Point for a few more days until she is strong enough to leave. The morning after, she woke to the smell of coffee and looked around to find a cup beside her bed along with a fresh set of clothes. Stevie came back daily to check on her (although Ruby suspected she also had ulterior motives for coming to camp), and she and Kira helped her change her clothes and bandage. Her wound from the gunshot had healed nicely in just under two days and by the end of the third, Ruby was able to sit up without the assistance of Charles, who had brought her stew every afternoon and even helped her hobble out to sit around the campfire on her third night.

The sun is setting once more on Ruby’s fourth day in Clemens Point. Just as Kira and Stevie are finishing up, Arthur Morgan comes into the tent, calling out loudly to make sure Ruby was decent.

“Mr Morgan,” smiles Ruby politely. “I never got a chance to thank you for helping me out the other day. I would say if it weren’t for you and Mr Smith, I wouldn’t have made it out of there alive, but…” she trails off, her lips pulled back in a taut smile and her eyes hard.

“I know, I know. You had it covered. Charles already told me about how you think you were gonna escape from four on one” Arthur waves her off. “Actually, I’ve got some news and I’m sure you wanna hear it. It’s about them Lemoyne Raiders.”

Arthur tells Ruby, Stevie and Kira about how he and Lenny found where the Lemoyne Raiders were camped out in an old estate house outside Saint Denis.

“Shady Belle? I know the place,” Ruby says. “Wasn’t aware it had any inhabitants.” She looks at the other two young women expectantly, leaning forward.

“We’ll scope it out,” says Kira. “Stevie and I will collect Roxy tonight and report back.”

“Okay, but-”

“We won’t hit it without you, Ruby. This is your payback,” says Stevie. “If you’re ready, we’ll do it tomorrow night.”

Ruby sighs and leans back against the wall of the tent. “I appreciate that. Thank you.” She looks at Arthur. “Looks as though my stay is almost up.” Ruby stretches her arms, showing how much her injury is allowing her to move.

Arthur chuckles. “Well, I know of at least one person who won’t be thrilled about that news.”

Ruby rolls her eyes, but they land on Charles, who’s sitting at a table across camp sharpening some arrowheads. As if she called his name, Charles looks up and meets Ruby’s gaze. His lips pull up into a small smile and he stands up and makes his way over to the small gathering in the tent.

“Well, Hosea mentioned something about wanting to find some ancient Braithwaite gold, so I’m gonna try ‘n’ find a lead on that,” says Arthur. “Take care, Miss Cortez.”  He nods at Stevie and Kira and claps a hand on Charles’ shoulder on his way out.

“Yes, Javier said he wanted to try out a new fishing spot that’s great for fishing at dusk, so I best go get ready. See you tomorrow, Stevie,” Kira says as she follows Arthur.

“Alright, well. I guess that’s my cue to leave too. I’ll be back to collect you tomorrow, Rubes.” With a final glance back at Ruby and Charles, Stevie leaves.

“Hey,” Ruby smiles up at Charles.

“You wanna join me for a drink by the fire?” Charles asks.

“Sure,” she says, getting up. Charles moves forwards to help her stand up, but Ruby holds her hands out to stop him. Charles gives a wry chuckle at her stubbornness but stands back. Ruby grits her teeth but manages to stand up surprisingly quicker than she had been able to earlier that day.

“You know, it’s not a sign of weakness to ask for help,” Charles says, offering his arm for stability as they exit the tent.

“It is, and I don’t need help anyway,” says Ruby, swatting his arm away and hobbling towards the campfire.

Charles grabs two bottles of beer from a crate on a nearby table and the two of them find a seat on a log by the fire. An older man who had introduced himself on Ruby’s second day in camp as Hosea was telling a story to a few other members of camp. Ruby and Charles both sat and listened, drinking as the night grew heavier and cooler air began to set in.

At some point in the night, during her fourth bottle of beer, Ruby realised her head was spinning and her eyes began to droop. Charles had ducked off for a bathroom break and to grab more beer, leaving Ruby sitting by the fire by herself, listening to an old man everyone referred to as “Uncle” playing a harmonica.

“Heeeey pretty lady.” A young woman with short blonde curly hair and freckles splattered across her nose sways up to her and plonks herself down on the log next to Ruby. “You’re the moonshiner Charles keeps going on about, right?” She looks at Ruby through half shut eyes and smiles. “I’m Karen,” She holds out her hand.

“Hi, Karen, I’m Ruby,” Ruby says, shaking her hand. “I’ve seen you around camp while I was stuck in bed.” Ruby giggles drunkenly. “Wait – what do you mean ‘going on about me’? I’ve only met the man once before,” she says, bewildered.

“Exactly!” Karen laughs. “For a man of few words, let me tell you, I’ve heard a few times now about how you shot up the Rhodes saloon, killed a bunch of these ‘Lemoyne Raiders’, then jumped off a balcony onto your horse!”

“When you put it like that, it makes it sound so much more badass. But really, it was nothing,” laughs Ruby, waving her off.

Karen sighs. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Ruby. And believe me when I say that at some point, us girls here have wished he would look at us that way.”

Ruby tries to think of something to say, but the alcohol clouds her brain and her mouth feels dry. As if on cue, a gangly red-headed man with missing teeth swaggers by, telling her he found something “really interesting behind a tree just outside of camp if she wanted to check it out”, adding a wink. Karen giggles and follows him, wishing Ruby good night as she leaves.

Ruby watches the pair leave, and spots Charles heading back to the fire with two more bottles of beer. He sits down in the seat Karen had occupied a moment before, handing Ruby a bottle.

“So,” says Charles. “You’re leaving tomorrow. Are you sure you’re healed enough?”

“Of course I am,” says Ruby, jumping up from the log and doing a small jog on the spot. “If I weren’t healed could I do this?” She lifts her arms above her head and turns in a small pirouette, but her stitches pull slightly and she collapses back on the log, laughing.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Charles laughs as he catches her, but his expression turns sombre.

“What is it?” Ruby asks

Charles sighs. “I just.. I guess I’m worried I won’t see you again,” he says quietly, looking down.

Ruby looks at him thoughtfully. A combination of alcohol, tiredness and humidity are turning her brain fuzzy, and her hand finds its way under Charles’ chin, tilting it up so his eyes meet her own.

“I know where to find you,” she murmurs, leaning forward. “You’ll see me again.”

Charles closes the distance between them, his lips meeting hers as his hand cups her cheek gently. Ruby leans closer towards him and Charles’ other hand finds her waist when a hooting laugh carries across the fire. Ruby pulls away and looks over to see Uncle watching them joyfully.

“Yes! I knew you’d do it Charles, I told John you’d do it! He doubted you’d make a move but I had faith in ya! Where is that greasy bastard, I gotta go get my money..” The old man gets up and hobbles away, muttering about ‘bets’ and ‘making moves’.

“Did they.. did they bet money on us?” Ruby asks incredulously.

“I think so?” Charles laughs.

“Well, on that note, I think I’m going to bed. I don’t think it would have been much longer ‘til you had to carry me there anyway.” She stands up.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I carried you to bed,” Charles chuckles. He stoops down and sweeps Ruby up into his arms. “And hopefully it won’t be the last.”

Ruby wraps an arm around his shoulders as he carries her back to the tent. Charles lays her down gently on the cot before leaning in to kiss her lips again, deeper this time, before pulling away.

“Good night, Ruby,” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Good night, Charles,” Ruby smiles, sleep already taking her over.