#Look i might be old enough to be their grandmother if i was very frisky as a teenager but i still want to bop
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Did I just buy a ticket to see Stray Kids when I'm in Bangkok in December? Yes.
Am I really far too old to be bopping around to kpop and gazing at pretty boys? Also yes.
Do I care? No.
#Stray Kids#Stray Kids Bangkok#Look i might be old enough to be their grandmother if i was very frisky as a teenager but i still want to bop#plus have you SEEN them?#What I wouldn't pay to see Felix or Hyunjin in a BL..
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Fated Instinct Chapter 16: Let’s Play
Author’s Note: I’m warning you guys in advance, this chapter was getting too long which is the ONLY REASON this chapter ends like this, you have been warned it was not intentional (....for once). Also this chapter will not make sense if you haven’t read Cabin in the Snow!
Summary: Sequel to Cabin in the Snow. Akari finds herself in a predicament after an accidental overnight stay in a cabin grants her the title of fiance to the chieftain-to-be M’Baku himself.
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 19(2), Chapter 20, Chapter 20(2), Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24
Character List
Warning: Friskiness
M’Baku X Akari (OC)
“Uuka, my grandson. What brings you here?”
The tall, humbly bowed figure stepped closer to his grandmother. He chided himself for thinking he could out maneuver her in his quiet observations. However Nobomi was not interested in scolding him, for she could see the distress as plain as the moonlight that struck his face. “Come, my grandchild.”
Uuka approached and sat cross legged at the feet of his grandmother on the rich dark tapestry she had woven herself. Uuka’s eyes traveled along one line of gold that darted this way and that, as he held his feet on either side of his crossed legs. Trying to focus on anything, but his undeniable truth.
“I cannot stop thinking about her.”
Nobomi said nothing, only slowly nodding as she raised her hand to lay her hand on his shoulder. “N’Ceba?” Nobomi felt him tense as she gently uttered the name he had been trying to forget for years.
“Yes. And when I look at Baku... it reminds me of how I used to be with her.” Uuka scrunched his eyes. Trying to rid his mind of the smiling face that had always greet him at the palace doors ever since they were children. The same smiling face that disappeared the day he was defeated.
“Well have you tried to approach her?” Nobomi prompted.
“No. She is not interested in a failure.” At these broken words Nobomi softly patted her eldest grandson’s head, back and forth. Ever since his challenge day, in his memory, N’Ceba had neglected to speak to him. Then again, Uuka himself had neglected to speak to anyone for days. Weeks. He honestly could not remember. At that time he had shut himself up in his own mind and heart. And by the time he had finally tried to open himself back up, she was gone.
Uuka had never held any ill will towards M’Baku for beating him. No. His loathing had been for himself. For being weak enough to lose everything. His birthright. His future. And his love. Even so, Uuka had slowly returned to his gentle, caring self, watching over his little brother Baku, and noticing how N’Ceba had grown closer to him in his stead. And Uuka had always said that even now
“Uuka, my dear boy. You have always had a soft heart.” Nobomi lifted Uuka’s chin to meet her. “But you cannot keep sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of others.” Nobomi tightened her grip with her shaky fingers while Uuka huffed slightly, is shoulders sagging even deeper. “Is that not the job of an older brother?”
“That is the job of the chieftain. To give himself to and for his people. But you. You are Uuka. And that girl would not have run to your side as you were taken from that ring after the battle, if she was not interested in Uuka. She would not have snuck into the healing room where you lay for two days and two nights, if all she wanted was the throne.”
Uuka’s head snapped up at this news to his ears.
“And she would not have sworn me to secrecy, if she did not care about you. My child, who do you think showed her the way?” Nobomi chuckled, amused at Uuka’s look of bewilderment as he processed this new information. But Nobomi thought the time for
“Do not let your kindness and consideration take the best from you. There is a time to wait, and let things be as they are.”
“But there is also a time to fight for what you love.”
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“Okay. I agree we tell M’Baku.” N’Ceba paced the familiar room with one hand against the dark stone walls. “ONLY on the provision that he makes sure to keep his mouth shut. He needs to promise not to tell Uuka. That is a given.”
Akari pinched the bridge of her nose as she sat in the chair, feeling like this banter had been going on for days. Akari, Runi and N’Ceba had been meeting in the early morning before classes in their usual secluded study room next to the cafeteria, making it harder for any spies to justify their presence at such a time. “I know he won’t agree to anything until he has the information first, say what you will but he’s too smart for that.”
Runi kissed her teeth before side-eying Akari, in all her early morning, messy hair and baggy pants glory. “Well then Kari, you might need to offer him something he can’t refuse.”
Akari quirked her head, peering at her with half lidded eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Well Akari, you are the fiance here.” Runi held both her hands out in a shrug, and N’Ceba’s eyes widened in realization, pointing in approval at the new line of thought.
“Yes yes YES anyone can see that he’s clearly head over heels for you.” She exclaimed, turning to Akari looking her up and down. “I bet you could convince him to do anything you wanted if you batted your eyelashes and with a swing of your hips.”
Akari burst out laughing not knowing if the early morning was hitting them harder than they thought, or if it was just Akari’s sole lack of sleep. “Oh as if that would ever work.” However her laughter was met with silence as N’Ceba and Runi’s eyes met, before turning to her. “Uh, you’re kidding, right?”
N’Ceba coughed out a surprised scoff. “Akari. Anyone with a pair of eyes can see you’re a bombshell. Akari you have a deadly set of curves and *clap* don’t *clap* even *clap* deny *clap* it!”
Okay now I definitely know N’Ceba didnt get any sleep. Akari pursed her lips at N’Ceba’s clapping, but before she could halt this snowballing idea Runi chipped in. “Oooh yes, and I know she has just the outfit to bring it out.”
Akari’s eyes widened. “No- NOOOO Runi you are NOT talking about that.”
N’Ceba leaned her head towards Runi with her eyes slanted. “Is it that good?”
“Oh it’s that good.”
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M’Baku laughed with his boys as they waited for their morning history class to begin. He was having a good time with his friends, which was a good distraction from the fact that Akari had been to busy the past couple of days to have ‘quality time’. It was true that his urges did put a strain on his body, but things had been going so well between them that he was willing to give Akari the benefit of the doubt.
Until he heard whistles from the rest of his class, to which he turned his head and almost fell off his seat.
Now. Usually, Akari had a very standard fashion motto: practicality. Anything she wore needed to be practical in some way or other, whether it be zip pockets, a double fur lining for warmth, or snowproof. This usually resulted in standard or loose fitting cargo pants and a warm puffy jacket that made her look like a cute snowball. A fashion sense that M’Baku was always secretly grateful for, in that it kept most guys ignorant and unawares.
But today. Of all days. His fiance had decided to walk in. With tight black leggings that accentuated her killer hips. Dark brown thigh high boots that had a white fur trim at the top and down the sides, gripping her thick thighs. And a fuzzy white, strapless, long sleeved jersey that sat well on her torso, showcasing just a hint of her full breasts above the cut, but almost leaving nothing to the imagination under the fuzzy fabric that couldn’t help but cling to the curves of her cleavage.
Her hair was up in a bun that gave way to her neck and collar bone, and shoulders where the jersey danced off and down her arms. Only just. It was an outfit that echoed Akari’s usual style, except it had such a sensual flair that M’Baku knew had to be the work of Runi. And of course Akari walked in the room without so much as a second glance at anyone. Except him.
All she gave M’Baku was the shyest of smiles and the smallest of winks. The smallest of KNOWING winks. Knowing that every aspect of her outfit was designed to make M’Baku’s blood rise with heat. Knowing that it was enough to send his instinct into overdrive.
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As soon as the class ended Akari briskly packed up her things and headed out into the hallway towards her next class. All of a sudden she felt the strong grip pull her behind the closed doors of a en empty closet. She knew instantly from the pulsing beat in her chest it was M'Baku, who her cornered against the wall with a glare in his eyes.
“Why the sudden outfit change, my love?” M’Baku looked her up and down like the sumptuous dessert that she was. Akari gripped the books in her hands towards her chest just so, that M’Baku saw her full breasts swell even more, dangerously close
“Its an old birthday present from Runi that I’d never worn.” Akari batted her eyelashes at M’Baku. “Do you like it?”
M’Baku looked her up and down one more time, before giving way to a carnal snarl. “You know full well what my answer is.”
Before Akari could protest M'Baku cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. Akari groaned at the feeling, the instinct heightening the sensation of M'Baku's touch. His tongue brushed her lips teasingly for access, and Akari obliged, giving into the yearning her body had for M'Baku.
As M'Baku pressed her up further against the wall they knocked over a broom or two, which snapped Akari out of it, frantically reaching for the lock on the door and sealing them in with a click. "M'Bakuuu." Akari breathed as he moved from her lips down her neck settling on her collarbone.
"Not here." She managed to get out. M'Baku stopped and looked in her eyes. Akari nervously cupped his face, M'Baku leaning into her touch. She then tentatively took the lead, walking them both further into the empty classroom towards the desks and chairs. “I have something to discuss with you, baby.”
M’Baku hummed in approval at the nickname, as he let Akari sit him down on a chair, before she straddled his lap with a devilish smirk. Akari brought herself close to M’Baku’s lips yet again, just close enough that M’Baku could take in the scent of strawberries from Akari’s skin, sending the pulse of a carnal and instinctual need surging through his body. It was building with every swerve of Akari’s lips, always just out of reach. It was so intoxicating that he almost didn’t register his fiance’s following words.
“Swear on my life that you will not tell your brothers, your father, or your family what I am about to tell you, without my permission.”
M’Baku’s head snapped up, realizing the weight of her words and the realization that this might have been a trap. “Akari-”
His words were cut short as his eyes grew ever more cloudy with a raging lust of the instinct shooting straight to his groin as Akari mercilessly dragged her hips up and down his hardened length beneath his clothing, the tightness of her leggings doing nothing to obscure the feel of her soft pussy just out of his reach.
Up and down Akari went, watching M’Baku’s breath grow more and more ragged, his nostrils flaring as he watched her. “Swear it.”
Suddenly Akari hiked herself up chest to chest with M’Baku, bringing her hands close to. Watching her starting her sultry expression turn into the soft wanton gaze that he had seen so many times in his bed, the feel of her fingers on his face, forcing him to look at her. It was driving him mad.
And a man can only take so much.
“I swear.”
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Taglist: @skysynclair19 @junesbride @great-neckpectations @muse-of-mbaku @hippiesandpeacesigns @jackburtonsays @coonflix @hi-looo12 @bonyg @romanceoftheeveryday @someareblindtoitsbeauty @wheredidallthedreamersgo @msblkshot710 @peaches-bbygrl @theunsweetenedtruth @blackpinup22 @airis-paris14 @macgruberrrsimplyyamberr @blackpantherreblogs @wawakanda-btch @im5ftbutmythroat66 @vanitykocaine @iamrheaspeaks @aykanna @laketaj24 @letsshamelessqueen-m @leahnicole1219 @cutewylie @titty-teetee @mbaku-babygirl @turn-thy-paige @chefjessypooh
#fated instinct#greennightspider#m'baku#m'baku fanfic#m'baku fanfiction#mbaku#mbaku fanfiction#mbaku fanfic#black panther fanfiction#mbaku x akari#m'baku x akari#mbaku x oc#m'baku x oc#m'baku x woc#mbaku x woc#i think you guys have enough fluff to survive the next chapters ahahahaha
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Simself Tag
Hey! So I’m almost finished with the semester, so to celevrate, I’m doing this thing! :D I’m just gonna say @berrysweetboutique tagged me because I’m a doof and nobody actually tagged me lol
i tag: You if you haven’t done it! Yes you, I’m talking to you.
traits: Creative, Clumsy, Hotheaded
You have to make a simself and put whatever you wish there, traits, anything about you. After the keep reading thingy are +100 questions I found that you can answer if you want, but you don’t have to.
𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨:
What is your full name? Kristyn Jo is my legal name
What is your nickname? Jojo, Krispen, Loony. I prefer to be called Nova :)
Birthday? june 28th
What is your favorite book series? I’m a huge Harry Potter fan. I also have a book of short stories about ghosts I take literally everywhere.
Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? Both actually. Thought I don’t know if aliens have been here.
Who is your favorite author? I really like Brandon Mull!
What is your favorite radio station? Does the Welcome to Nightvale podcast count?
What is your favorite flavor of anything? Either apple of pumpkin. fall ftw
What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful? Ballin
What is your current favorite song? my all time favorite is Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen, but lately I’m really into Venom by Eminem
What is your favorite word? preposterous
What was the last song you listened to? Dirty Car by Studio Killers
What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch? Lucifer
What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? The Princess Bride
Do you play video games? I do a lot, but a limited selection
What is your biggest fear? ceasing to exist
What is your best quality, in your opinion? my ability to be enthusiastic about anything
What is your worst quality, in your opinion? My crippling insecurity
Do you like cats or dogs better? Both. Just both. Also. Lizards
What is your favorite season? FALL BBY
Are you in a relationship? HAHAHAHAHA. no. Unless you count @ponderingpigeonsims (she’s ma wife)
What is something you miss from your childhood? The ability to make a fool of yourself without getting weird all looks.
Who is your best friend? Sarah, my tall blonde friendship soulmate who basically just adopted me into her family.
What is your eye color? goldish brown
What is your hair color? brown (or any color that strikes my fancy)
Who is someone you love? I love like 20000 family, but my grandmother might be the best person to ever person.
Who is someone you trust? my roommate
Who is someone you think about a lot? My brother
Are you currently excited about/for something? I’m always excited for Christmas
What is your biggest obsession? Top 10 creepiest countdowns
What was your favorite TV show as a child? lots and lots of things, but I adored Teen Titans
Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone? I’m non-binary so...?
Are you superstitious? yes tbh
Do you have any unusual phobias? The thing under my bed grabbin my ankles
Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? I like both
What is your favorite hobby? looking for cryptids
What was the last book you read? Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
What was the last movie you watched? To all the boys I’ve loved before
What musical instruments do you play, if any? i’m untalented
What is your favorite animal? Geckos :3
What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow? - There’s a lot! but I check @ratboysims @ridgeport @gunthermunch @tainoodles and @berrysweetboutique like daily
What superpower do you wish you had? telekinesis
When and where do you feel most at peace? Sarah’s house
What makes you smile? cats
What sports do you play, if any? hahahahahahaha
What is your favorite drink? MONSTERSSSSSS
When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody? I wrote one for my grandmother last week.
Are you afraid of heights? a little
What is your biggest pet peeve? When people talk as if I can’t hear them
Have you ever been to a concert? No :(
Are you vegan/vegetarian? nope
When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? an actress rofl
What fictional world would you like to live in? put me in that My Hero Academia world plz
What is something you worry about? Losing people
Are you scared of the dark? yes :(
Do you like to sing? I do!
Have you ever skipped school? yes. Sometimes I just ca’t get up you know?
What is your favorite place on the planet? My Grandma’s backyard
Where would you like to live? Ireland
Do you have any pets? I have a old dog named Frisky, and a leopard Gecko named Wilson
Are you more of an early bird or a night owl? night owl like really bad lol
Do you like Sunrises or sunsets? sunsets
Do you know how to drive? no
Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? headphones 2000%
Have you ever had braces? nope
What is your favorite genre of music? I like pretty much freaking everything. Really like rock and heavy metal though.
Who is your hero? uhm
Do you read comic books? does manga count at all?
What makes you the most angry? needlessly hateful people
Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book? real book
What is your favorite subject in school? besides studio classes, Reading
Do you have any siblings? I have an older brother
What was the last thing you bought? paint for my roommate
How tall are you? 5′2
Can you cook? yuppers
What are three things that you love? scary movies, fluffy dogs, telling bad puns
What are three things that you hate? ignorance, people with no consideration, vegetables
Do you have more female friends or more male friends? i have a good mix
What is your sexual orientation? am a bi buddy
Where do you currently live? USA. send help
Who was the last person you texted? my friend
When was the last time you cried? two days ago watching a Shane Dawson video <_< I cry a lot
Who is your favorite YouTuber? Phillip Defranco
Do you like to take selfies? yes
What is your favorite app? i still play pokemon go
What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? no comment
What is your favorite foreign accent? Irish
What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit? Japan
What is your favorite number? 13
Can you juggle? no
Are you religious? nope
Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting? hecc yes
Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? very mildly
Are you allergic to anything? nope
Can you curl your tongue? no
Can you wiggle your ears? no
How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? every ten minutes
Do you prefer the forest or the beach? forest
What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you? Be proud enough not to ask for help when you don’t need it. Humble enough to ask for it when you do.
Are you a good liar? yes
What is your Hogwarts House? Gryffindor!!!!
Do you talk to yourself? i do, it’s good conversation
Are you an introvert or an extrovert? extrovert, until im not
Do you keep a journal/diary? tried to, but im not consistent enough
Do you believe in second chances? depends
If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do? try to find who dropped it
Do you believe that people are capable of change? occasionally
Are you ticklish? no <_< I swear
Have you ever been on a plane? yes
Do you have any piercings? just me ears
What fictional character do you wish was real? all of them. like all of them
Do you have any tattoos? not yet, but i really want one
What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far? to stop caring about what people think of me so much
Do you believe in karma? hell yeah
Do you wear glasses or contacts? glasses
Do you want children? Kind of? Maybe? Possibly in like ten years
Who is the smartest person you know? I know of lot of smart asses
What is your most embarrassing memory? I have a lot and I think about them constantly. Weird things happen to me in bathrooms.
Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? yes. all the damn time
What color are most of you clothes? black bby
Do you like adventures? yessir
Have you ever been on TV? yeah
How old are you? 22
What is your favorite quote? shit happens
Do you prefer sweet or savory foods? sweet
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In the Garden
Part 14 of 15 of Aftermath, with plenty of hugs for @mychakk‘s hug!fest.
“Better now?” came a familiar and much-loved voice, and both Molly and Millicent looked up to find Sherlock coming toward them.
Millicent rose to her feet as he approached, and for once Sherlock did not balk at being embraced. Molly smiled her approval, and he returned the smile, though it seemed a bittersweet expression.
Millicent eventually ended it, but then took him by the shoulders and peered at him closely. “You’re certain you are alright? She didn’t harm you? Any of you?”
“Physically we’re quite intact, though John may get a head cold out of it. He was stuck in that well for hours. But having it all out in the open will be for the best. Even Mycroft knows that.”
“Mycroft,” Millicent repeated, and sighed. “I suppose you were right. He was trying to spare us -- though Rudy’s motives were likely less pure. I always felt Mycroft was more influenced by Rudy than was good for him.”
“I have to agree with you on that point,” Sherlock said. “I never liked my uncle, I’m sorry to say.”
“You’ve no need to be sorry for anything,” Millicent said with conviction. “Although I do think you owe Molly a great deal. She assures me that announcement about the two of you was not a merely a plan to distract me from the less happy reason for this visit, and I sincerely hope for your sake she was correct.”
“I promise you, she was – which reminds me.” He lifted a brow. “Did you bring it?”
“Yes, of course.” His mother reached into the left pocket of her trousers and brought out a small blue velvet pouch with silken drawstrings. She handed it to her son with a mischievous twinkle. “Your grandmother would be extremely pleased.” She glanced at Molly and said, “I’ll leave the two of you alone for a few minutes. I must see Mycroft and… well, not apologize. Clarify matters, I suppose.”
“He does try very hard,” Molly said, unable to help feeling sympathy for the eldest son of such a family, as well as for his mother.
Millicent nodded. “He always did,” she said, and directed a somewhat pointed parting glance at Sherlock.
They watched Millicent go back into the house, and then Sherlock turned to Molly. “Well, that went off better than I’d hoped, thanks to you.”
Molly shook her head. “All of us did our best. It was -- is -- a dreadful situation. Do you really think Eurus will respond to your playing?”
“I think she might. It’s worth a try, at any rate.” He studied her narrowly. “Molly… you do understand that I have to try to reach her? I promise you, I will be careful.”
Molly tried to smile. “I… I can’t help worrying about you,” she said simply.
He took her hand. “Come and sit here with me a moment.” He took in the ornate bench with its overarching plethora of roses. “An appropriately romantic setting for a proposal.”
“Are you going to propose to me again?” she said with a chuckle as she sat down. “It does seem a more appropriate spot than the Maida Vale tube stop.”
He sat down beside her. “Well, I thought our understanding was more or less a given, considering all that has passed between us these last two days, let alone the previous six years. But if you’d like I can arrange something even more formal, perhaps when we’ve shopped for a set of rings?”
This prosaic speech inspired both tears and laughter, and Molly threw her arms about him for a moment -- reveling in the way he returned the embrace and kissed the top of her head. Then she pushed away, swiped a tear from her cheek, and said, “You are an impossible man, and I had no idea I could love someone so very much.”
He smiled, bittersweet again. “The feeling is, as you now know, entirely mutual. It quite terrifies me.”
She knew what he meant. Accepting the joy of love meant accepting the possibility -- really the certainty -- of anguish. She took up his hand and said, “I know,” then drew that beloved hand to her lips.
But he pulled his hand away and took her in his arms and kissed her properly this time, and only broke off to slip his arms beneath her and pull her onto his lap.
She reached up and caressed his cheek, then closed her eyes as their lips met again. She had waited so long… too long… and now could not get enough of him.
Apparently he was of the same mind for after a bit he moved to run kisses across her cheek, then murmured against her ear, “Can’t we go back to bed yet?”
She laughed, and sat back a bit to look at him. “Is that what you’d like? At this moment?”
“God, yes!” he exclaimed. “Let Mycroft and Alicia deal with my parents. At least for now. They’ve taken up far too much of our morning as it is.”
“Well, fortunately for you, I believe your mother is very perceptive about that sort of thing.”
He gave a grimace of exasperation. “Yes, you’re right. My father, too. They’ve always been embarrassingly frisky for a couple that one might presume to have reached an age of discretion and sobriety.”
“Oh, dear!” Molly said, trying subdue her amusement. “You really are doomed to disappointment on that score. They have so many virtues, but not those, I’m afraid.”
“No, I suppose not. But on the other hand, my mother has an excellent memory. I sent her a text yesterday morning, before they left for London, and she brought this for me to give to you.”
He’d reached into his pocket and now handed her the tiny blue velvet bag his mother had given him. She opened it and carefully drew out a gold ring, a beautiful, old fashioned scrollwork setting with a small but very fine square-cut ruby in the center, flanked by two tiny diamonds. “Oh! Sherlock, it’s lovely! And it was your grandmother’s?”
“Yes. I always liked the ring, and my mother told me when I was a boy that I could have it if ever I found a woman I intended to marry. Ha! Never thought that would happen -- though I did imagine you wearing the ring years ago. It came to me in a dream, I think, before I returned to England and found you already engaged. I remember your cherry patterned jumper featuring in it--I may have been a bit out of it for some reason. Not drugs!” he said quickly. “Or, none I chose to take, at least.”
Molly stared at him, aghast.
“Now don’t look like that! That was ages ago.”
“Oh, Sherlock,” she said, close to tears at the thought of what he might have gone through in those years he’d spent destroying Moriarty’s web -- and it seemed to her now that she had betrayed both him and herself in becoming involved with another man. “Y-you really thought of me when you were away? In… in that way?”
He gave a short laugh. “That was all that kept me alive at a couple of points!” But then he said, dismayed, “No, now really, don’t cry!”
But she couldn’t help it. She leaned against him, clutching the lapel of his suit jacket, and wept into his shoulder. He scolded her for her sudden weakness, but very gently, and held her as though she were something precious as he did so. He also thoughtfully pried the ring from her hand and traded it for the box of tissues, which had fortunately been left on the bench.
It was some minutes before she was at all recovered. It was not an easy matter to quell the ghosts of the past, and the present--the events of this day–these two days, and nights--had rendered her surprisingly weary.
She did manage it, finally, and sat up and blew her nose once more. Then she gave a watery chuckle and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t seem to have much fortitude left.” She looked up then, rather shy and ashamed of herself, and to her delight his smile blurred before her eyes and he kissed her again.
A tender kiss, but with a latent passion underlying his whole aspect. “Oh!” she whispered at one point, when he paused for a half second, but then was swept away again. By the time he ended it, she felt almost light-headed. “You may be right,” she murmured.
“About what?”
“About going back to bed.”
“Of course I’m right,” he said, smugly. “We’ll both need a long nap. Afterwards.”
And she laughed aloud at that, in joy and wonder.
He grinned and then said, “Give me your hand.”
There was no implied please.
He knew she was his. She had been for a very long time. And now… now he would claim her. The thought piqued her feminist sensibilities. Her amour propre.
And yet… she could deny him nothing.
She sat up and disengaged her arm, which had been tight around his back, and solemnly gave him her left hand.
He took it, and slipped the ring on, carefully. Looking at it in all its perfection, he said, in a quiet voice, “It’s not your engagement ring, obviously. More a simple acknowledgement of… of what lies between us. But I wanted you to have it right away. To have something meaningful. A symbol of my promise to you, and… my hope.” He lifted her hand to his lips, pressed her fingers briefly to his cheek, then raised his eyes to hers with a small sigh, as though quite resigned to his fate. “I love you, Molly. You don’t mind me saying it so often, do you?”
She slid her hand up and around, and drew him close. “I will never mind you saying it,” she replied, her breath soft against his lips, just before they kissed again.
~.~
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Obsession
Obsession chapter 2: Hell Come Over Hill
Frisk woke up that very morning, covered in blood from the wall, at least that what Frisk thought it was; it had a strong metallic smell. Frisk spent almost all night trying to scrub the “note” off of her walls, crying and sobbing into the wash water next to her. Her breathing was hollow, her heart was racing, her skin crawled, she felt like she was in Satan’s pool of hellfire pulling her down into oblivion. Why me?! What the hell did I do?! She scrubbed, and scrubbed until she swore she felt her hands blistered, looking down at both of her hands, pieces of skin were peeling off her hands, revealing a pain of newly forming blisters. She grabbed her hair and slowly got to her knees, new wave of tears coming over her eyes as she curled herself into a ball, cowering on the floor until she drifted off to sleep.
She took the red washed water out the window and poured it to the abandon alleyway, throwing the bucket down as well. Slamming the window shut, she rested her back on the window, feeling a whole host of tears swimming back to her eyes again. Would you get a grip, you big baby?! It’s just Hills’ fucking with your head again! It’s not the first time! Oh yes! Frisk remembers when Hills first “employed” Frisk to work at the fucking club, he slapped her around, beat on her until she bled, ripped her dress off, curling herself in her bra and underwear, and threaten to rape her bloody if she didn’t follow his rules and his word. She felt humiliated, Hill kicked her out of club, on the street, alone and half naked, she never gave the bastard a hint of fear, but she couldn’t stop shaking. One of the “performance” girl took pity on her, gave Frisk her big coat and about ten dollars for a cab. Frisk grabbed her, gave her a big shaky hug and sobbed a “thank you.” Frisk remembered she broken down again, cried in her hands, hiding her face from the cab driver and the neighbors in her complex. When she finally arrived at her run-down apartment, she couldn’t help but notice that the door was half open. She pushed the door open slowly, revealing a hallway with a trail of red liquid, she followed it, pasting her kitchen, all the way to the common room where, to her horror, was a body hanging from the ceiling of her roof. She didn’t even realize she scream a hearty, scratchy screamed that had the neighbors knocking at her door worryingly. What’s worse is that the person who was hanged was the girl who gave Frisk her coat. The “performance girl” who was naked, cuts on every inch of her body, multiple stab wounds on her left thigh, busies covering her face, and a knife wedge into her stomach. Frisk looked closely to the knife and saw a note. “Cross me and you’ll end up like her, bitch! Welcome to the Red Death, Whore!” She heaved sobs and hiccups, her heart bounding against her chest, feeling like it was jumping out of her body. She took a deep and hollow breath, gripped a kitchen knife and climb towards the hanging girl. Frisk tried to evade the dead eyes on her face, but she could feel the girl clawing Frisk’s arms, climbing on her, her long dirty fingers wrapping around Frisk’s thin neck; choking the life outta her and dragging her to hell. When Frisk finally got the girl down, she heaved a nasty vomit in her throat, forming a large lump in the base of her neck. Waterfall of tears pour down her cheeks as Frisk wrapped the girl into old blankets and sheets, carefully dragging the corpse towards the back window, leading out to the back alleyway, she threw the body out; sodding a “sorry” out to her.
Frisk shuttered at the memory as she scrubbed the red off her arms, returning to present day. Frisk tried so hard to get rid of that memory, but it hides in every corner of your brain, waiting to drag you down into memory lane. Standing in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror, covered in faded red and encrusted dirt, red puffy eyes from crying. Pathetic girl! Get a fucking grip on yourself! Hills’ just trying to scare you! To remind you what a pathetic bitch you are! Frisk shook the voice from her head, trying to ignore the harsh voice radiating from her brain. She hated this! Hated torture! The lies she tell herself every day! The content attacks! The content beatings she gets! Everything that happened to her, every hellish thing that happened to her was because of that bastard, Frank! He forced her into that club, he killed that poor girl and hanged her in Frisk’s shitty apartment as a fucking warning! I hope that fucking bastard’s throat is ripped out and his fucking ugly smug face is smashed on the ground one day! Frisk thought, freezing as it passed. She always had those thoughts, but it was dangerous to say it out loud, his fuck head right and left men might tell him hoping it might appease him, even if he must kill someone or torture just for fun. Frisk remembered a young recruit, a boy barely out of his teens, was in charged to collect debt and “rent” from people in Frisk’s neighborhood, he collected about everyone’s due expect for a widow, a poor woman whose husband died from Malaria with her twin girls and her unborn child died from unknown circumstances, who didn’t have enough money for Hills’ fees, the young recruit let slip her fees for that month, and the month after that, and the month after. Until Hills’ lackeys got the wind of it and told Hills, two weeks later the young boy was found, hanging by his feet with his belly slashed open and the widow was hanged by her arms but her head was missing; it was found in front of the police department with a note stuck to the head, “You can’t stop me, motherfuckers! Catch me if you can!”
Speaking of Hill’s, Frisk looked at the clock from her small bedroom, 1:46 p.m. Fuck me running! I’m late! A day after every show, Hill always has a “meeting” discussing about Frisk’s performance and her “pay.” Well, they aren’t meetings, they are beatings usually on how well Frisk’s performed and her pay are usually nasty kisses and touching, while holding her down, from either Frank himself or one of his lackeys. His constant abuse is usually a routine to Frisk, she hated it, but she was grateful that they don’t force her into their beds. It was the only way to repay her debt to the bastard, all she had to do is to suck it up, close her eyes, and count thirty and it was over.
She did it over and over while brushing through long light brown hair harshly and quickly, grabbing a ribbon and tying it up in a ponytail. She removed the short yellow dress she wore and pulled out her grandmother’s old light blue dress. It was short, stopped just by the knees, with short sleeves on her shoulders, a long V neck which stop above her breast, it hugs so closely just like her grandmother did before she disappeared. Her grandmother loved to travel to new worlds, she always shared stories with Frisk and gave her treasure she always brings with her.
One day, on her way to Paris, a huge storm came through the Atlantic Ocean and her ship disappeared afterwards. Frisk still had her favorite dress and she wear it when she needed her grandmother the most, but Frisk’s most valuable treasure was her mother’s locket. Before he mother died, she gave Frisk her family locket, a locket that was in her family for nearly two hundred years, passed down from mother to daughter. It was small in Frisk’s hand, round with a peach color, along with a sliver-looking tree on the front. Her mother told her that this locket holds every story, and one-day Frisk will tell her story. Frisk could only look at the locket with disappointment and regret, Yeah, some shitty stories I can tell. Frisk groan, pulling the locket around her neck and tucking into her dress, grabbing her coat out the door and left her only claim for Sanctuary.
Frisk walked down the street towards “Drunken Men’s Ally,” a name that was given due to the constant drunk men found down there, while she counted the clanking her short old leathered heels made. Her breathing was deep and hollow, her heart beat was bursting and she could feel tears forming in her eyes. Hills’ hate it when a worker is late, the last time Frisk was late he gave her a double beating plus he tore of her dress, her mother’s Sunday dress, and shoved a knife in several various places on her body, luckily not too close to her woman parts. She had a friend to sew her injuries, but they turned into scars, reminding Frisk’s her chains, chains that belongs to Hills. After twenty-minutes of walking, Frisk was standing in front of a run-down, but newly refurbish building where Martin gave Hills’ as a “birthday present” when he put him in charge. You can tell it belongs to Hills by the musky smell of blood and stale beer, she slowly breath in and out, Keep it together, Shit Face. She walked through the brownish door, entering an empty room. The room was small, a large couch on the side, a large filing box with a medium size desk on the back wall, and a few desk chairs sitting and collecting dust. Frisk found this precarious, Hill usually had one of his lackeys at the front desk or that a recruit, fresh off the bus. But no, it was just Frisk and her thoughts.
Frisk looked around the room until her eyes caught the bleak, rotten bleached back door to Hills’ office. She always goes into that douchebag’s office for “meetings” but she never voluntarily, oh hell no, I will never go into that fucking hellhole myself! Frisk looked at the big clock on the wall, 2:21 P.m? Frisk found that strange, Hill never miss an appointment, especially with her. Then out of nowhere, a voice shouting from Hills’ office, but it wasn’t the asshole himself, it was someone else. His voice was more deep and brutal, like something out of a horror movie or a storybook. Her rational side was shouting at her, Fuck it and go, Frisky girl. You don’t have time for this bullshit! But her curious side was growing stronger by the minute, she slowly walked towards the door. Before her hand could touch the door, it swings open, and to Frisk’s horror, she was right. It wasn’t Hills. The giant in front of her was more brutish, wearing a light brownish suit with an orange top hat, his face was unshaved, and the long nasty scar under his left eye. Holy fucking shit, Iron Scar Martin!
The Mafia Leader of the Ebott City himself. The murderous, egomaniacal, narcissistic, sadistic bastard himself. Frisk’s heart stop when he stared down at her, but Frisk kept her cool, not letting him scare her. Martin stared at Frisk, he told out his cigar and blow smoke into her face, she coughs in annoyance. “Who in the motherfucking lovin’ world is youse?!” Frisk gulped silently, she could literally feel her heart jump out of her chest, running towards the Hotland District, and jumping into the Lava Lake, slowly burning to death. Martin grabbed her coat and yanked her closely to his nasty cigar, beer smelling breath, “Are youse deaf, Slut?! I said, ‘Whose is youse,’ you dumb whore?!” Frisk shuddered, “I…. I’m Frisk…..A-and I’m here t-to s-s-see Hills.” Martin was silence for a while, he was just looking at her, with hungry eyes; looking down at her breasts. Suddenly, he started to laugh a little, it started grow and grow until it turned into a nasty, dry, horsed laughter; his horrific breath was landing onto Frisk’s face and entering her nose, Oh God! Kill me now!
“Youse dumb cunt! Have you not heard the news?!” Martin threw Frisk onto the ground and gave her a sharp kick to the gut, a loud cry escaped her lips. She quietly whimpered at the sharp pain, but she still got to her feet, looking at the brutish man confusingly. “News? What news? Where’s Hills?” Martin took out his slightly chewed and threw it on the ground, stomping on it like a cockroach with a huge crunch! “Hills is FUCKING dead, youse dumb bitch! He was fucking murdered right here in the GODDAMN OFFICE!” Martin turned and pointed at the blood-stained wall, a dark shadow was sitting in Hills’ chair; when Frisk got closer she realizes it was Hills himself, his throat slashed open, multiple holes in chest, and one of his front teeth was missing. What caught Frisk’s eyes was the message above his head, Holy fucking shit!
don’t FUCK with my dolly motherfuckers or i’ll come after you next!
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