#The Lucky Cigar Case (Part 2)

[notspiders]

Oh, Honey! (Bumblebee! Reader x Monster! 141)

General Warnings: Mostly fluff. Reader is female and is described as rather small and chubby. Reader is clumsy. Reader has a very large family. Characters may act out of character. Poor grammar is likely. Cussing. Part 1??? Note: Monster! 141 belongs to @bluegiragi

~~~~

Price watches you through the window.

Truthfully, he isn't sure how he and his team ended up here. One day they were being chased by a bloody team of zombies/cannon fodder, the next- he's laying on this extremely cozy bed (although it is a bit small) with his wounds nicely patched. Soap has gone hunting with the other women. Ghost is satisfied that they're all safe in this... rather massive cottage and has been snoring away in the next room for the past hour. Gaz has told him that he's going to just fly around and keep an eye out- just in case if the enemies somehow find themselves through the dense woods and into this clearing.

They really were lucky, Price thinks. According to you, the woods were a force themselves. Navigating through it, especially at night, is practically impossible. Compasses don't work. There's no signal and, of course, any type of aircraft just fail here. The woods are miles long and unless you packed enough supplies- it's suicide to dive back in and try to find your way out. It's just that sometimes the woods can help you, and sometimes the woods just gives you Mother Nature's middle finger and kills you. So there's that.

Naturally, the team was suspicious.

1) The explanation made no sense. 2) They were just outnumbered by a ton of enemies and to stumble upon this welcoming lot is... well, it's too good to be true, yeah? 3) You and your family are just way too happy. 3.1) There are no guys in your family. Your mother stated that men generally just wandered in, the family would treat them, and then they go away by themselves after a few nights. 3.2) Honestly, all of you look the same. Maybe there's like, a difference in hairstyles, body types, and obvious age gaps between the women here and there, but Jesus… Gaz has already made the mistake of confusing you, your cousins, your many sisters, and other random girls multiple times last night. 3.3) Scratch out the 'massive cottage' you guys claimed it to be. It's a mansion. Your 'family' is very large. There are many aunts, other women, cousins, other girls that were adopt into the family- Just no men. All living under the same roof and might as well be an army itself with how efficient you all did your tasks.

That said, it's very rude to point guns at innocent, clueless civilians. You, an adorably chubby, little bumblebee-hybrid (identifiable by the two rather pathetic buzzing wings behind your back), opened the door to them last night and stared blankly at their guns before cheerily ushering them in without freaking your head out. Next thing they knew, they got some quality homecooked meals cooked and served before them, plenty of drink (the honey mead everyone shared is excellent), proper treatment with their wounds (with... herbs), and warm beds. Ghost had stayed up the whole night and snooped around (just in case) but reported nothing interesting except for a few old hunting rifles and some overdue library books. Yes, each girl did carry a tiny foraging knife, but he's pretty certain they could still punt them like footballs ten at a time.

Morning comes- the team properly introduce themselves without being too specific of their occupation. There was a great deal of oohing and aahing as Price unfolded his one wing. His smoke did cause one girl to faint and her mother quickly asked for Price to... stop. He did his best and has, for now, stopped smoking his cigar. Everyone just steered clear from Ghost. Many children were petting Soap's head and playing with his fluffy tail, and others were stroking Gaz's wings.

Despite all the attention, Price's gaze is always on you. Maybe it was because of the fact that he's seen you first. You were just the cutest out of all of them. He wanted to whisk you away just to squish every soft part of your body and have you cuddled up beside him in his nest back home.

He's sorely disappointed to be told that he needs to return to bed so that his wounds can heal faster. No matter. The window gives him a very nice view of the clearing outside. Some girls are tending to the farm. Others are beekeeping. Plenty have gone to the outskirts of the forest to forage or hunt. Soap has offered to go out with the girls and they gladly accepted his help. (Tomorrow, he'll get off of this bed and join everyone too.)

Right now, you're picking the berries in your garden. It's amusing to watch you. Sometimes you bend over to pluck a few pretty flowers too- he's gotten a very nice view of your plump arse here and there. He's watched you buzz your small wings to just barely get a foot in the air and pluck an apple off the tree. Oh, how he wished to simply go out to lift you up himself... Your weight would be nothing to him.

From his observations, he's smartly deduced: Your body is round. Your little wings aren't designed for distance.

He loves the way you'd burrow your nose into any flower. Sometimes you remind him of Johnny's eagerness by the way you'd get a bit too enthusiastic and faceplant into the bed of flowers to take in the scent.

Price watches you get up, bump into your cousin (or is it sister? Or is this another girl? He couldn't be arsed), and the two of you collectively squeaked and apologized at the same time. Adorable. Fascinating. Beautiful. He hasn't felt this way ever since the time he xaight the glimpse of the shiny Excalibur in that stupid rock.

The lunch horn has been blown. He's been told that today's meal would be freshly baked bread and creamy chicken with wild rice soup. There’ll be tea and coffee for the drinks.

Price wishes his lunch would just be you.

[ranknfoul-blog]

The diagnosis

Let me say that part of me expected to get cancer because until early 2020, I had been chewing tobacco for almost 40 years. I had quit, and switched to nicotine pouches (and I'm trying to wean off of those to this day). Honestly, I'm shocked I didn't get throat cancer sooner. The super weird thing is (spoiler alert), it was NOT the tobacco that caused the cancer.

One day, in November 2023, I got a sudden nosebleed on a Friday. By 'sudden,' I mean I felt like I had a runny nose, looked down, and there was blood all over the front of my shirt.

I went to the ER of a hospital that is only a few blocks away from me. Their answer? Something called nasal packs.

For the unitiated: Nasal packs are these thinner-than-tampon things that they jam down your nasal passage. These need their own paragraph.

Take a super slim tampon. Say, the width of a straw. Jam one up your nostril, past where your sinus becomes the sinus. That alone hurts. No. HURTS. Unimaginable pain. You think you're done there? Oh, you child. They then rip off the sleeve so the 'far' end can expand and start sucking up that blood.

Then they did it to my other nostril.

After 24 hours, I bled through the nasal packs, and went back to the ER. They referred me to an ENT (Ear, Nose, Throat) doctor.

Spoiler alert, I will love this man for the rest of my life.

He saw me, got the nasal packs out (Bear this in mind, kids: JUST AS if not MORE PAINFUL) and noted I had one huge tumor in my right tonsil, and a smaller (but noticeable) tumor in my left. He asked me if he could take a biopsy.

I'm not going to lie, and I feel a lot of people in my situation know where I'm coming from. I'm not an idiot, and I was pretty sure I knew where this was going. So I said yes.

He took the biopsy. Right after it (before any results were even possible), he asked me if he could present my case to the 'tumor board.' So wow, now I'm like an interesting case, being presented to a board and all. Yeah, bro, knock yourself out.

The diagnosis came back: Stage 2, squamous cell carcinoma of the tonsils. I never knew what the whole tumor board thing resulted in, probably because I didn't pay attention before he told me the most embarrasing part.

Before that, though: Through this interaction, I never knew what the different stages of cancer are. To this day, I'm not sure what all of them are. I'm not going to look them up, I don't need to be knowing how close I am/ was to death. Here's what I know: Stage 2 means basically you have noticeable cancer (I mean, the ENT doc spotted it with his naked eye). Stage 4 means you have cancer and it's spreading (I know this because he specifically told me this). I'm very lucky (Yeah, I know. Lucky??? Hear me out), that I had Stage 2 and not Stage 4. No idea what Stage 1, 3, or anything beyond 4 involves. I assume Stage 1 is like barely noticeable, Stage 3 means...I don't know, it's about to spread? And if there are stages past 4, NOT to be disrespectful, but you should probably be starting to make 'arrangements.'

The cause of my cancer? Not cigarettes (didn't smoke) or cigars. Not chewing tobacco (quit almost 4 years prior, remember). No. None of those. I got my cancer because of an STD/ STI.

My cancer was caused by HPV. This is something around 90% of the entire world's population has. There have been advances and vaccines, but there's one funny thing about this:

Men cannot be tested to see if they have HPV.

So basically, I have HPV. And all I had to do to get that confirmed was to get throat cancer.

FML. I wish I could say I was surprised, but this is how I find out about a lot of things in my life.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“McDougall Tells How They Planned Break And Spent Freedom,” The Province (Vancouver). March 14, 1931. Page 2. --- By H. H. C. ANDERSON. ==== UNCONCERNED and smiling, smoking a cigar which he manipulated with his manacled hands, Fraser McDougall, survivor of the sensational escape from Oakalla, Friday afternoon told the story of his eight days' fugitive freedom which ended with the death of his pal, Ellis Wilcox, in Burnaby woods shortly afternoon.

"What's today?" he asked as he cast back in his memory to tell The Province of his life since he and Wilcox made their point-of-gun getaway on Thursday, March 5. 

"Friday, the thirteenth," supplied the guard.

"God!" exclaimed McDougall. Then he smiled and went on with his story.

WILCOX AWFUL MAD ABOUT THOSE STORIES. "Wilcox was awful mad about those stories in the papers," he said in his only reference to the youth who died when the two were finally cornered by Burnaby police.

"We read the papers every day and Wilcox was awful mad that they blamed everything on him. We didn't hold up any milk wagons. We stole two cars, that was all.

"Yes, that was a real gun we used to get away from Oakalla. Who got the idea it was a dummy? That gun was put in the police van at the Court House - they were right about that. That part of it was all arranged, but there were no other arrangements."

HOLED UP IN U.B.C. WOODS FOR TWO DAYS. "It was Thursday night we got away, wasn't it? Well, when we got out of that taxi we grabbed at the jail, we stole a car. It was a sedan. We beat it for the woods near Imperial street. We holed up there and stayed there for two days, Friday and Saturday. We got grub by going downtown and going through parked cars. We were lucky and found a whole case of grub in one car.

"Saturday night we ditched our first car and stole a second one. That's the one we were caught with. We had been sleeping in the car and lying low all the time. We went back to the bush at Imperial street Saturday night and holed up there over Sunday. Monday and Tuesday we didn't move much; just lay around the bush and kept quiet.

"DIDN'T DO ALL THOSE HOLDUPS," MCDOUGALL SAID. "It was Wednesday that a provincial policeman came into the bush and found us. After we held him up and emptied his gun we beat it for New Westminster. That night we slept in the bush near Sapperton. 

"We stayed there Thursday, too, and had dinner last night in a Chink joint over there. Then we came toward Vancouver and holed-up where they found us today. "We were together all the time. We didn't do all those hold-ups they blamed us for. Well, that's about all. Friday the thirteenth, huh!"

McDougall is of slender build, short but wiry. He has bright, flashing eyes and is alert in appearance. He showed no particular signs of hardship and was cool and cheerful. He talked over the remains of a meal and puffed his cigar with relish.

[buckyalpine]

Pretty Little Thing Part 1

18+ Minors dni

Mob!Bucky x f reader, Rumlow x reader (forced marriage)  A/N: This is going to be in parts because it was getting way too long for a one shot. Felt like writing some protective Mob Bucky because he is an absolute treasure. Rumlow is a piece of shit. Please like, comment and reblog! <3 

Warnings: ANGST, forced marriage, swearing, abusive marriage 

Word count: 1.8k

Bucky reluctantly got in the SUV after Steve nagged him for 2 hours about the importance of maintaining civil relationships with business partners and rivals.

“You know what they say punk, keep your friends close and your enemies closer”

Bucky groaned, adjusting the gun in his holster wondering how he let Steve convince him to meet with Brock Rumlow again.

He had zero interest in having any business dealings with Rumlow; he had agreed to a meeting to maintain an air of peace. Though they were both part of the same world, Bucky had some morals.

As they neared the residence, something was different this time. Bucky frowned, wondering why the mansion they were pulling up to looked so…homely. A trail of flower bushes lined the gravel road to the entrance. A large garden swing sat on the lawn. Rumlow didn’t seem like the type to sit outside on a sunny day to lounge on a garden swing. Not unless someone half naked was on it. The large balcony that was typically occupied with the women Rumlow was entertaining that week was empty. Instead 2 guards that had previously never been seen had taken up residence at the main door.

“He’s up to something, this man didn’t suddenly turn into Mr. Rogers” Steve shook his head, doing a quick pat down of his weapons before exiting the vehicle.

The inside was no better; a giant bouquet of flowers sat in an ornate vase beside the stair case. The curtains had been opened, allowing natural light to pour through the living room. A number of family photos had been placed above the fireplace, replacing a previous cigar collection.

“Gentleman!” Rumlow descended the stairs, flashing them an unnaturally bright smile.

Bucky nodded, his stoic face unchanged. “I see you’ve made some changes”

“All this,” Rumlow gestured around him, “is for my beautiful new wife”

Steve hoped Rumlow didn’t hear him choke though Bucky definitely did, struggling to hide his smirk.

“Didn’t think you’d be one to settle down” Bucky said coolly, wondering which woman of the week he had convinced to marry him.

“You would too Barnes, if you got lucky enough to find a woman like mine. Let me introduce you!”

Before Bucky could protest (though secretly curious to know who would agree to marry such a creature), Rumlow called for you.

“Y/n, sweetheart, come down, meet my business partners!” “We’re not bu-”

Bucky immediately stopped upon seeing you descend the stairs. That wasn’t who he was expecting.

You quietly padded down the stairs in a simple white sun dress that stopped just above your knees, the soft material flowing between your legs with each step. Your hair cascaded down, softly bouncing as you approached them. As you neared, Bucky noticed the finer details that just added to your beauty. The small beauty marks on your skin that made you unique, the curve of your jaw, the way you nervously bit you bottom lip, the soft light color you had painted on your toes. Fuck you were angelic.

You stood quietly by Rumlows side, nearly hiding behind him, glancing at the two very handsome men that visited your home. If you’d even call it a home.

“She’s a pretty little thing isn’t she?”

Bucky and Steve stood in stunned silence, nodding after a moment. Rumlow smirked, getting the exact reaction he wanted.

“Barnes, Rogers, this is y/n, my sweet wife” Rumlow firmly gripped your waist, pulling you forward while placing a possessive kiss on your neck, his lips lingering on your skin for longer than necessary. You squirmed slightly, immediately stopping when you felt his fingers dig into your skin.

“Pleasure to meet you y/n” The handsome blonde gave you a soft smile, extending his hand. You hesitated before taking his hand; his hold felt firm, safe.

“Y/n, this is James Barnes and Steve Rogers, they came to discuss some of our business trades”

You smiled softly, nodding keeping your gaze down. You fidgeted with the large diamond ring that sat on your finger, the heavy rock a harsh contrast to your simple appearance.

“Gentleman follow me, we can discuss everything in the office. Y/n darling, prepare us some drinks please”

The office looked the same as the last time Bucky had been there; a large solid wood desk with simple arm chairs surrounding it and a large couch off to the side. Everything was the same except for one stark difference; a large wedding portrait hung on the wall behind Rumlow’s desk. He looked proud, as if he had captured the prey he prowled after, his arm draped possessively around you waist. You were in a plain white silk wedding dress, both your hands clasped around a bouquet of blood red roses. You’re lips were curved up in a small smile but your eyes looked lost, devoid of happiness.

“Take a seat, y/n please” Rumlow gestured for you to pour them their drinks while they sat. Another change; there were no longer maids or butlers in the house. There were security guards that walked the perimeter and few in the halls but the many women that previously waited on Rumlow hand and foot were nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t see any of your other….assistants?” Steve wasn’t sure how to refer to the lack of help. He knew for a fact Rumlow had them around for more than just cleaning the house.

“Ah, no need for them when I have this angel here. Got rid of them all after we got married”

He grinned at you, pawing at your waist as you dropped a few ice cubes into the crystal glasses. Your body tensed under his touch, quickly pouring the whisky so you could leave the room. Your nervous movements caused a splash of the dark liquid to spill onto Bucky’s shirt.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry Mr. Barnes” You looked up wide eyed, frantically grabbing a cloth to dry off the spill. Your hands trembled as you quickly dabbed his chest, feeling the hard muscle under tense.

“It’s okay doll” The name rolled off his tongue with such ease before Bucky could catch himself.  He took the napkin from your hand and set it on the table, giving you a soft smile. His eyes were a stunning piercing blue and you felt yourself get lost in them for a moment, collecting yourself when you heard a cough from your husband.

“That’ll be all y/n. Sorry gentleman, she’s still learning” Rumlow gave you a nod, smiling, however his voice and eyes were cold as they bore into you. You nodded, quickly retreating to your room before they could see the tears fall.

Steve shifted uncomfortably, while Bucky’s jaw clenched.

“Learning?” Bucky’s voice was cold. He already had no interest to be here but seeing the way you were treated angered him more.

“Yes Barnes, learning” Rumlow’s was voice equally cold, his hospitable demeanour slowly crumbling seeing the way you looked at Bucky.

“And how did she agree to this marriage in the first place?” Bucky sat back in his chair, genuinely curious to know how you ended up in his hellhole.

“Truthfully, that’s none of your business Barnes”

“We can talk about this first Brock” Steve said lowly, his hand gripping the arm of the chair to keep from punching the man’s jaw out of place.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you Barnes, or you Rogers, you came here to talk business,” Rumlow glared at the men, realizing the conversation would not move forward unless they got their answer. “But since you seem so keen, it was for her benefit”

“Benefit?”

“Her family owed me a large sum of money they couldn’t repay. Millions. I spared them in exchange for her”

Bucky felt sick, anger beginning to cloud his judgement. He should have known you would have been forced into this arrangement against your will. Steve sensed his friends change in mood, tapping his knee, signalling for him to cool down.

“So you forced her to be your wife?”

“Hardly”, Rumlow replied coolly, sipping his whiskey. “She agreed to the marriage in exchange for her family’s life”

“She’s a person Rumlow, you don’t trade lives for your benefit. She’s had to sacrifice her whole life for her own family, what the hell have you given her in exchange for it!?” Steve felt his own composure beginning to falter.

“ I’ve made plenty of sacrifices for her!” Disgust dripped from his voice when he mentioned you. “Do you see any women walking around this fucking place? Not one maid, no whores, all of them gone for her. I’ve remodelled the house according to her likings; I have not touched her once until she agrees. She is getting everything according to her needs, the least she can do is learn to pour a glass of whiskey”

Rumlow’s chest was heaving his frustrations grew. He knew your family would have paid the money off eventually but he wanted you. The pretty, sweet, angelic looking thing that sat on the swing in front of your family’s home, nose tucked in a book. So he made an offer. All debt’s cleared in an exchange of marriage. You protested, so he made another offer. He would change, become a better man. No more women, he would change his home to resemble your own. He wouldn’t lay a finger on you until you consented.

“You’re proud of not touching someone who doesn’t want to be with you in the first place?” Bucky scoffed, his hand itching to pull the gun from his holster.

It had been 6 months since the wedding and his patience was growing thin. The marriage had never been consummated and Rumlow was only willing to play his part for so long. He’d get what he wanted if you were not going to give it to him willingly.

“I’ve had to keep it in my pants for 6 months Barnes, I think I’ve been pretty generous, don’t you think?” Rumlow smirked, enjoying the reaction he was getting out of Bucky.

The floor screeched as Bucky stood out of his chair, heading straight for the door. A minute longer and a bullet would have found its way between Rumlow’s eyes. Steve followed without a word, as Rumlow sat back in his chair finishing off his whiskey.

In the car, Steve glanced at Bucky, shaking his head, knowing where his friends head was at.

“Be careful Buck”

“About?”

“I saw how you looked at her. Called her doll right in front of that piece of shit, God knows what he’s going to do to her now”

Bucky groaned, closing his eyes as you clouded his thoughts. Your bare feet softly padding down the stairs, your hair slightly tousled. Your soft y/e/c eyes that pleaded for forgiveness. The tear that slipped and rolled down your cheek. He noticed.

-

Part 2

[thran-duils]

Total Eclipse (P.2)

Title: Total Eclipse (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Sherlock Holmes (RDJ). Sherlock had an impression on the reader from a formative age but he was always so busy running with cases. Their moments of passions were coveted between the two but they were few and far between. He left with Watson on a case and in that time, her parents found her a suitable man to give her to. Wealthy and accomplished. Sherlock and her have not been able to let go of each other though. Words: 3,792 Warnings (for the whole fic): Angst, infidelity, smut, swearing, substance abuse, non liner storyline, character death, 18+ as always Author’s Note: There is heavy backstory here in italics! I was reading up on Victorian customs and tbh, I’m not privy to it at all, so I apologize if things are not historically accurate!

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You walked away from where your ladies tea was going on, brushing your skirts out. You had begun to become uncomfortable sitting on the blanket and wanted to stretch your legs.

“Do not wander too far,” your mother called out to you.

“Of course not, mother,” you called back over your shoulder.

She would not notice how far you wandered when she was this engrossed in the latest gossip from the castle.

Coming onto the cobblestone, your eyes set on the fountain. There were goldfish inside and you made a point to always come to the fountain when you visited this park. You nodded at a couple as you passed them, exchanging pleasant smiles. They did eye you somewhat curiously at the fact you were walking alone but pleasant, nonetheless. Reaching the edge of the fountain, you leaned over, peering into it.

Just as you were reaching into the fountain, a small gust of wind hit you and you felt your hat fly off the top of your head. You let out a noise of frustration, turning around, eyes searching. It was tumbling away and coming to the feet of a gentleman sitting on a bench. His eyes were on you, and you had a feeling they had been for a bit.

He dipped down, picking your hat up from the cobble stone and stood up from the bench. His hands came up to brush at it as he walked towards you. He was careful with the fabric, his own coat bristling in the small breeze at his sides.

“Your hat, miss,” he said holding it out to you, giving a small bow.

You thanked him and took it.

He was terribly handsome. Dark hair, tousled just so, not to the point that he looked unkempt. His eyes were an alluring shade of chocolate. There was a playfulness in them and they excited you.

“You must keep a good hold on that. It’s woven perfectly,” he continued.

“Perfectly?” you asked, putting the hat back on.

“Yes. It’s immaculate. The stitchwork. Whoever did it took great care. I believe it is the work of the hatter on Bishop’s Gate, east end?” Your mouth fell open in surprise as you pulled the ribbon down beneath your chin and you froze. He gave a light chuckle at your expression, “Sorry, I have a keen eye for detail and a memory to boot. May I?” He asked suddenly, his hands reaching ever so slightly towards your face, eyes on the ribbons for a moment to explain what he was asking.

You stilled, your hands falling to your sides, and he took it as invitation. You breathed easily even though your heart jumped at him being so close. You did not even know this man; he was bold. Coming forward, his hands latched to the ribbons, tying it better than you could. He had a nice smelling aftershave and you locked eyes, your breath hitching. He was suspended in your gaze for a moment before clearing his throat.

He gave a brief smile as he pulled away. “That’s better.”

Something had happened there. And you pressed it.

“Are you sure you would like to tie it that tight? I may want to lose it again if it means you’ll fetch it for me?” you asked.

He actually looked amused, and you were relieved. You were constantly scolded from a young age for being so coquettish. “Bold. Aren’t you?”

“I’ve been told so.”

“Miss….?”

“Miss Y/N L/N. And you?”

“Sherlock.”

“That’s it, then?”

Now he was coy. “For now.”

“So, there’s to be a future, then? Between us?”

He caught your wit, amused even further. Thankfully he did not think you crass and he did not chastise. He was returning your flirtations. “I think so, Miss Y/N.”

“Well, I look forward to the future then. You live in London?” you questioned.

“Yes. Do you?”

“Most of the time.”

“’Most of the time?’” Sherlock repeated and you shrugged.

“Sometimes I dream of escaping. It takes up some of my time, pulling me away from here.”

He smirked at that. “I suppose I should say most of the time too. My mind pulls me to places. As well as my job.”

“Lucky you,” you said sincerely, and his expression was warm. He was interested in you. He was older, not terribly but there was distance. Reaching out, you touched his topcoat. “You are a bit of a pyromaniac it seems. Or just terrible with the cherries of your cigars. Please tell me it’s not the latter.”

“What makes you say that?”

You cocked your head and pulled down his vest and his eyebrows rose at the movement as you exposed some of his chest hair peaking out from beneath his dress shirt. You ignored his stunned look, doing your best to not linger on his exposed chest. Your finger landed on his dress shirt, pointing out the singe. “Do you think I’m blind, Mr. Sherlock?”

He let out a small laugh.. “I thought I hid it well enough beneath the vest.”

“You must not move as quickly as you have been to keep it hidden. Now, tell me. Why would you not just get a new shirt? You surely have the money. I mean, if you know the hatters on Bishop’s. And it’s not just anyone that splurges on a silk tie.”

He cocked his head, eyes running up and down you. You smiled in response, seeing you had impressed him.

“I haven’t gotten around to it,” he shrugged.

“Busy man, then.”

“Quite.”

“Too busy to escort me through the park?” you asked.

He eyed you and asked, “Would that be entirely inappropriate? We did not set this up beforehand.”

You shrugged now and said, “I could tell the gallant story of how you saved my hat from getting dirty in the mud. And I asked for you to walk me back. I did get quite a look for being on my own on the way over here.”

Sherlock’s lips pulled into a smile, and he gestured for you to walk. You were thankful he had initiated it; it was societally appropriate for him to initiate everything. How you wished you could loop arms but that itself would be societally inappropriate considering you had just met. Your mother would simply have a heart attack if she saw that, especially with so many possible suitors in the park.

He came to a stop, and you stopped as well, watching him curiously as he left the path. He reached for the rose bush, and you grimaced as he reached straight into it. He could cut his hands. But he yanked, his fingers moving ever so, pulling a single rose off the bush. His hand was unharmed.

He presented it to you, and you took it gently.

“A token of appreciation of your company, Miss L/N,” he said.

Examining it, you observed, “Pink. Are you of grace and sweetness? Or is that to refer to me?”

“I would have given red would it have been readily available,” he smiled, and you felt heat creep. “Also, pink can symbolize admiration. That is breaching on the red, is it not?”

You shrugged, keeping it close. “Yes, I suppose so. A fine point.”

The two of you walked on and Sherlock asked lightheartedly, “Where is your escort, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I am here with a ladies group. They’re probably sitting at the blankets still, tittering about the gossip,” you responded. “My mother especially. She loves being in the center of all the gossip and drama.”

“My, I must watch my back returning you. Would not want to start any rumors.”

“Would rumors about us be so bad, Mr. Sherlock?”

He was tickled. “You really have no shame, do you?”

“Only in the presence of people I think I can trust. Not all women are complete straight laces. And frankly, most are only that way in public. Have you not spent a lot of time with women in private spaces?”

Sherlock chuckled, “That is a very loaded question, my dear. Where did you ever learn to banter like this?”

“I have an older brother. And your ‘dear’?”

“Have I offended you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

His eyes were alight, sharing a look with you. It was only interrupted as you passed another couple and nodded at them, Sherlock doing the same.

“Ah, like I said,” you said coming back over the bridge. You spotted them still eating their small cakes and sipping on their tea. Sherlock followed your gaze and you leaned in, “Thank you for providing me a walk. My legs had become quite numb sitting on the ground for so long.”

“My pleasure,” Sherlock responded.

You saw that one of the women had noticed you and Sherlock approaching over the bridge and you needed to hurry up the conversation. Pressing your luck, you asked, “Do you happen to have an invite to the Mayberry Ball?”

“Unfortunately,” Sherlock sniffed.

“Would it still be unfortunate if I was there?” you inquired.

Sherlock’s eyes were locked with yours and you came to a stop in the path. You stared at him with sincerity, waiting for his answer.

He cleared his throat, looking away. “It would liven up the event, that is for sure. I am terribly bored at those events, but I am dragged along by my… partner.”

“‘Partner?’” you asked, your fiery hope getting water doused on it.

“Confidant. Flatmate,” Sherlock explained quickly sensing your discomfort, meeting your gaze once more. You visibly relaxed, and he no doubt noticed. He resumed walking with you down the path. “He encourages me to get out. It is why I am at the park today. I had only been out for about a quarter of an hour before you showed up and I had already been considering heading back inside.”

“What a shame, sir. To hide yourself away. Who knows who you’ll meet if you only ventured out?” you stated, shrugging in a lighthearted manner.

“Too true,” Sherlock returned, eyes bright. He shot a look towards where the tea was being held and then cleared his throat, straightening up. “Well, it looks like we have been found out, Miss L/N. I suppose I should let you get back to your lunch. I have taken up too much of your time.”

“The pleasure was mine, Mr. Sherlock,” you assured him as you reached the edge of the grass.

Sherlock gave you a curt bow and turned towards the ladies and gave them a smile and a bow as well in acknowledgment. The ladies bowed their head in return, and you kept yourself from smirking at the fact they all looked like chickens bobbing their heads in unison, eyes fixated on him.

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon. Make sure to keep that hat tied tightly, Miss L/N,” he told you before turning on his heel and walking off.

You watched him walk off for a few moments before turning back to the tea.

Your mother was on you the second you sat down.

“Who was that man? And where did you get that rose?”

“My hat flew off and he fetched it for me before it went into the mud. I was foolish, I should have tied it before walking off. A gust of wind caught it,” you told her calmly, fixing your skirts around your legs as you relaxed in your sitting position. “And I made a comment about the roses, so he picked one for me. I was afraid the poor man was going to hurt his fingers, but he was careful. Very kind of him to do so, it does smell lovely.”

“And his name?”

“Mr. Sherlock.”

Your mother eyed where he had walked off and she said, “Why does that name not sound familiar?”

The other ladies looked at a loss as well and you merely shrugged in response. “Maybe he is new to the city. I am grateful he walked me back. Are there any cucumber sandwiches left? I am famished.” You acted as if you had little interest in him to get your mother off your back, but you were already thinking of what gown to wear to the Mayberry Ball.

<><><>

You looked down at your gown for the umpteenth time, making sure nothing had spilled on it. You had chosen a deep purple, silk brocade with silver detail. It was one of your finest and your mother encouraged it, considering it was the courting season and especially since it was your fourth season. Your father listened to you when you told him you were uninterested in the men who had tried to court you thus far, but you knew even his patience would wear thin with your pickiness and your hand would be forced.

Eyes wandering, you stood by where your brother was recounting a story to your father and mother. People spun to the dance, others off to the side, exchanging flirtations. You suddenly locked eyes with Sherlock across the room.

He grinned briefly before raising his eyebrows. He turned, disappearing back into the hallway behind him.

Your family was distracted with your older brother, and you easily slipped away through the crowd, following where he had gone. The hallway was empty and there were doors at the end of it. You pushed them open and were expecting him. But you were met with empty air and your brow furrowed.

“Sneaking away, Miss L/N?”

You startled hearing him from behind you. He was sitting on a bench against the wall, nestled between two tall plants.

Stomping over you glowered down at him.

“Did I offend somehow?” he asked as he stood up from the bench.

You scoffed, “You told me to sneak away! And then you startle me!”

“I did nothing of the sort! I merely made a face. And you assumed from there. I don’t argue your detection skills though.”

“Why do I feel as if you are jesting?”

“Never.”

You sighed before saying, “Well, I would accept a dance. But I am sure my mother would be on you in a second. She was already curious about the walk.”

“As you suspected. And she should be. A strange gentleman walking her daughter through the park. Especially during the season. And who said I danced?”

“Is that why you were standing on the outskirts?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You cocked an eyebrow and said, “If you haven’t noticed, I am single. I am to be escorted at these types of events. My father and brother were keeping me close until someone approached me to ask for a dance.”

“You’d already danced with three by my count.”

“You were watching me. For how long?”

“The detail on your gown is exquisite.”

“Will you always compliment my clothing? Is there nothing else about me to compliment?”

There was a pause, the two of you staring at the other. Sherlock’s lips twitched and he hid a smile. “It would be inappropriate of a me to engage in other compliments, no matter how much they are warranted.” Well, that answered your question in a sly manner, much to your pleasure. “But, being found outside with a man alone would tarnish your reputation. And yet you followed. Speaking of inappropriate.”

“And you encouraged it. Plus, it is not like I am a lady. I’m simply middle class. It would not affect me as greatly.”

“I would not say ‘simply’ in that regard. It is very respectable to be middle class. Especially since I can deduce your family is further into the elite side of it. And on the contrary, not being upper class, the situation which we are describing would certainly affect you greater considering you are closer to having less equity if a suitable match was not made within your own social class. Middle-middle class is less than lower upper class.”

He noticed your eyes were narrowed and he cleared his throat, stopping in his speech.

“Do you always speak so much?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

You spotted your brother going through the crowd inside in earnest, certainly searching for you.

“Well, do not change, Mr. Sherlock,” you told him, giving him a quick smile. His interest was piqued by the comment, and you added, “I’m quite serious. It amuses me so. You have intellect. But I must take my leave. I spot my brother who is certainly going to talk my ear off in an unpleasant way about wandering off alone. Even if I say I was using the lavatory and did not want to interrupt their conversation.”

“If you find yourself on New Bond Street…” you said in invitation. Sherlock looked taken aback and you quickly said, “I am sorry. I did not mean to be too forward.”

“No,” he recovered quickly. He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, that’s not it. You are just… very close to me. A few blocks actually… fascinating.”

You saw your brother cross again and you hurried, “Oh, well, yes, that is. What a coincidence. Well, good night. I hope to see you again.” You gave him a half curtsy before you turned.

He grabbed your hand and you stopped, facing him again. He brought your gloved hand up to his lips and gave it a kiss, keeping his eyes on you. “And I as well.”

A smile was on your lips as he let your hand go and you hurried back through the doors back to the ballroom.

<><><>

The day after your tryst with Sherlock, you were not surprised you were called on at home. Thankfully, Arthur was not home.

“A gentlemen is here to see you, ma’am. A Mr. John Watson.”

You greeted him in the parlor, the door cracked. You did not want to arouse suspicion about this gentleman visiting you while Arthur was out, no matter if he was known as an acquaintance. Although, he was far closer to you than anyone in the household would ever know. If the maids wanted to eavesdrop, they could do so gladly.

“John,” you greeted him and he took his hat off to greet you in turn.

“Y/N, you look lovely as always,” he complimented as one of your maids brought in a tray of tea.

John waited for you to seat yourself before he sat down as well. You reached forward, preparing two cups of tea for the pair of you.

“Thank you. You look well. Mrs. Hudson must be feeding the two of you well.”

“Quite,” he answered.

“Sugar?”

“Please.”

You handed him his tea and he placed it in front of him.

John asked point blank, “How was he?”

Of course John knew you had seen him. If Sherlock left 221B Baker, you were one of, if not the first, stops he would take on most of the time if John was not with him.

“He was Sherlock.”

John took a drink and you watched him closely. He met your eyes again and sighed, “He’s been manic.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s coming back out to see us then, correct? He confirmed he would be at the masquerade.”

“It’s gotten worse since—”

“I don’t need to be reminded again,” you told John.

“I think you do. Are you happy here?”

You bristled at the comment. Why did men think they had such a liberty to comment on your choices? Maybe you should have closed the door, but you did not expect something like this from John of all people. Sherlock, certainly. But not him.

John noticed your expression and he opened his mouth, but you cut in testily in quiet tones.

“I wish you wouldn’t speak so loudly about such matters right under my husband’s roof.”

You did get up now and go to the door, closing it. This was turning into something else entirely than what you had expected. John was watching and you hoped he realized he needed to be quick about this to not give too much time for them to speculate what was happening in here. You sat back down.

He matched your quiet tones, thankfully, even with the door closed. “It’s the most sure-fire way to get your attention on the matter.”

Taking a drink of your own tea, you kept your eyes pinned on him. Swallowing, you placed your cup back down delicately. “I cannot leave my husband.”

“I wasn’t asking you to do that.”

Cocking your head, you asked, “Then what are you asking, John?” His lips were pursed and you knew you had caught him. You shrugged, “You’re asking me to leave my husband. Divorce is illegal for me to initiate if you have forgotten.”

“I know that. He’s always better after he sees you.”

“But?” you asked, knowing there was more.

“But he always reverts.”

“Because he’s not with me?”

John gave you a look now and he said, “You know it is true.”

“John, is this for you or for him?”

“Can it not be both?” he asked honestly. “I am concerned for my friend, and I can simultaneously be concerned for my own mental health and anxiety.”

You sighed heavily, looking out the window.

“I know it is near impossible for you to obtain divorce – or even a separation – but… if you simply saw him more.”

“How?”

“Bring him into your circle. Then it would not be suspicious if the two of you were speaking with each other. On the street, in a restaurant, at the park.”

“You know it not just speaking that Sherlock and I engage in,” you whispered.

John rose his brows, looking embarrassed, but said, “I know. But just seeing more often may encourage him to imbibe less and relax.”

“Do you understand how much I wish I could be with him?” you asked seriously. John was quiet and you shrugged. “There will always be a hole, John, for me.”

John leaned forward and said, “Then try what I am suggesting. Please.”

Studying his face, you exhaled, running the risk of the idea through your mind. Sherlock was unorthodox, but perhaps he could put up a front to be around the gentlemen your husband surrounded himself with. It was farfetched but… possibly.

“I’ll consider it. I am going to see him tomorrow night at the ball. I trust you are attending?”

John nodded, “Yes. I am.”

“Good,” you told him, getting up again and going back to open the door a crack. You did not see anyone in the hall but you doubted they had not been there and had only run away when they heard your footfalls coming towards the door. Facing him again, you said in your normal voice, “I am looking forward to the gooseberry pie myself.”

~~~

Fic tags: @undecidedsworld @mcnegan

[albino-whumpee]

Lies are unsustainable - part 2

This goddamned chapter has been in the back burner FOR SO FUCKING LONG. IM SO HAPPY I FINALLY CAN WRITE IT!!

Anyways, there´s a lot of things that changed. Please, please, go read the first part to get a refresher. 

We start on the whump fest that is the chapter Broken Bridges. :)))

Taglist: ask to be added or removed!

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word​ @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn​ @rosesareviolentlyread​ @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @boxboysandotherwhump @unicornscotty

CW// Pet whump, shock collar, dehumanization, human trafficking, angst, BBU conditioning, hurt comfort, death and funerals, PTSD, nightmares, creepy Whumper and mute whumpee. 

Inside the thick walls of the Facility, Robert´s steps melted into silence. He knew the building and the people inside didn’t care that it was past midnight. For half of them the day had just started a few minutes ago, and they would go through their shift as usual. Yawning, Robert walked past a group of trainees on cleaning duty.

Robert´s eyes fixated on a freckled boxie´s neck. No scars on his neck, but just a black nylon shock collar wrapped around it.

It was odd to say he missed him sometimes. It was a lot less fun without him. He exhaled a humorless laugh. Being alone had never intimidated him so much. That’s why he had agreed to go to the archives to find what the doctor had asked for, as he promised he would stay a bit longer and make him company after the funeral.

After recognizing him as the guy who shared his Cuban cigars with them, the guards allowed him to get inside the maze of shelves with archives that led to a single computer inside the room. Once sat, he just needed to type the date, the company’s password, his password and then, the pet or handler´s number to get their files.

With just a click, he would gain full access to their training videos, their signing video, acquisition details, full medical report and accidents, the handler´s qualification exam scores and percentage of successful trainees.

All of PCS´s information would appear before his eyes. Unfiltered.

Robert doubted a second when the pop up for the pet´s number came up. The man looked over his shoulder to the surveillance camera in the corner, and took a deep breath.

“7, 9, 3, 0, 0, 3” he mumbled under his breath, as he typed and then pressed enter. 

What was a little indulgence?

When the window showed his face, it was comforting in a very strange way. Robert smirked at the name.

“Guess you got really lucky with my name choices” he giggled to himself, noticing the name written on the computer wasn´t the same he heard when he saw his introduction video.

He knew names for custom orders weren´t real in most cases, but Sann´s real name was a dark joke he could crack a laugh at. He held his breath a second when he saw the prospect´s name, but then leaned on the monitor to check if his eyes weren´t playing games with him with the “Social Reincorporation In Progress: stage 2 on hold” line, in bold red letters at the top of the page.

“That motherfucker…” he blinked slowly, pushing his seat away. After a moment, he pushed himself closer again.

Robert cracked his knuckles and neck and then went back to the menu “Ok, whatever. You owe me a big one, Claude” he sighed as he typed “7, 7, 8, 9, 0, and 0” and pulled Sann´s archives into a USB. To go through the videos later. Meaning to put Albus’ in it as well.

The photo of a younger Albus greeted him when clicking enter. It was only to check something as simple as the data about the boy´s surgery. However, when he read through it, he froze.

His eyes widened taking in the date he had learnt to dread every year. Going just a little far down, he found the details of his training and with them, a different name than Sarahi`s on the prospect line. 

“Sirius” he read out loud. Going over the quick order description when making a personalized order, tears sprung to his face as his easy way of talking bled in each word written in the file.

Robert slowly rolled away from the computer. Simply letting his tears run down his face. 

Albus, that pet, was supposed to be his wedding gift. He was supposed to come home after their honeymoon. Beautifully packaged just for him and his husband to enjoy. But it was specifically written that Robert was in no way notified of this. 

“It`s a surprise” he croaked, reading the last part of his description. 

It took ten minutes to stop crying and another twenty to get back into the computer to get the information Claude had asked him for. His guts twisting inside him as he continued with the task with shaking fingers.

He found the date the handler, Ryan Sanders resigned, and when they matched, his skin crawled for answers to questions that suddenly became too urgent to find the answers to. Right at his fingertips reach, he couldn´t hold himself still.

Swallowing hard, he dug further into the web of lies as something dangerous, resentful, began nesting in his heart.

—

That same night Albus was at the studio with Sarahi, holding in his hands the letter Rupert Glass had personally written for him, only folding it up again after he had read it for her.

The woman crossed the room to squeeze the boy’s shoulder with a smile, a smile he took a while to imitate before pulling his eyes down at the letter again.

“It’s…done. It’s official now” Albus whispered.

“Its official, '' she echoed in a sigh. Sarahi’s frown tightened at the cast eyes of her pet “What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy you finally made it?”

Albus opened his mouth, before snapping it back closed and pocketing the letter. “I-I am, ma’am. So much I could…” he stopped himself to look down to his feet again. “I haven’t told him anything about this yet. I wanted to wait to be certain”

“A wise choice” she said.

They both knew the real reason, but saying it was too cruel of a reality on its own. It had been a long and hard fight to find a judge that would approve of what they would do. It was a complete surprise Rupert Glass of all people would be the crucial piece to achieve that.

“It’s only been a few months, but he has grown so much. He’s nothing like the Sann who came back from…there” Sarahi took a deep breath before squeezing his shoulder. “I think he can take it”

Albus took a moment to reply. He looked down for a moment before lifting his head again. Sarahi`s heart crunched at the sadness in his gaze.

“I…I want this for him. I really do, but I just… don’t know if I’m strong enough to watch him go” Albus sincerely told her while his eyes fixed on his fingers pulling knots. “Ma’am, if he wanted to see me after that, if he came back…He wouldn’t see me as different then, right?”

The desperate need for an answer in her pet’s eyes was heart wrenching.

Sarahi took a deep breath before lifting her hand to wipe the tears rolling down Albus’ face. The boy only sniffed as his eyes dropped to the floor again.

“Sann isn’t that kind of person, Al. I’m sure he would try to learn how to fly just to be back to you sooner” she said, prompting a smile to appear in the boy’s face “Don’t worry and take your time to choose how to tell him, alright? I won’t let him go without saying goodbye properly”

Albus flashed a smile as he wiped off the tear tracks on his cheek with the sleeve of his sweater. “Thank you, Ma’am”

Sarahi felt a smile on her face as she went back to re-read her own letter. She couldn’t believe the chairman himself would give her a promotion to executive yet. The man had personally seen that the pertinent documents were in order just for her to accept her new position. With it, Albus would also get a slight promotion.

She knew Albus would keep up the pace, she knew her Pet was more than capable. But she was worried about his psyche to be suddenly alone, but even then, she knew that wasn´t the real problem they would actually be facing from then on.

Sarahi´s sharp eyes lifted from the paper on her hands to look at the young man in front of her. The leather collar resting on his neck was worn out, impeccably taken care of, and a heavy, constant reminder to the people around him of what he was.

“It will be a little rough the first weeks” Albus jolted at the sudden proximity of her hands adjusting the collar, but that didn´t stop her. It never did “We will have a lot more work to do now and you will have more responsibilities'' she let go easily. She had just wanted to touch it, as sometimes she would. A physical reminder serving its purpose when she rubbed it through her fingers.

Albus let out a calculated sigh “A promotion for me won’t be well received”.

“Asserting your authority is always part of it. I’m counting on you to handle it more diplomatically this time” Albus went red in embarrassment as she rested her palms on the desk behind her “Up to the challenge, Chief?”

It took Albus a moment of a deepening frown to look back up with determination in rimmed red eyes “Of course, ma’am”

“That’s my boy” she smiled before she lifted herself up and walked to rest a hand on his collar.

The boy jumped, startled by being touched again, but quickly caught up and lifted his neck to give her free way to the buckles on his leather collar. She took a deep breath as she felt the chafed skin under her fingertips. On the rare occasions it was off, like while he bathed, Sarahi took her time for maintenance.

Her thoughts soured as she worked her fingers to loosen up the collar when she remembered the first thought she had when he came into her room with hair still dripping, was that he looked naked without the leather wrapped around his neck. She could never be made to admit the thought of buckling up the shock collar stored on its box inside a drawer on her nightstand just to fill the space had flashed through her mind more than once.

With a swift pull, the collar hung loose from the boy’s thin neck.

“Tomorrow is gonna be a long day. Get some rest before that. You don’t need to think about telling Sann for now. We can wait until you’re ready” she reassured him with a short squeeze on his shoulder, getting a single nod as reply before he twisted the knots on his fingers again. “What is it?” She asked at the cue, flashing a warm smile.

“Should I order flowers for them too? You will be visiting their graves tomorrow, right Ma’am?” He asked slowly. She stared at him with widened eyes before her face slowly became stone. “I-I´m so-” he started, flinching when she rested a hand over his head.

“I would appreciate that. Thank you” she said with a smile that didn´t reach the eyes “Goodnight, Al” she subtly dismissed him, taking her hand off his head to cross her arms over her chest. “Tell Claude to come here would you? We…have a lot to talk about”

“Understood. Goodnight, ma’am” he said before closing the door behind him and move towards the living room where Claude had lost eyes nailed on the city with a glass of whiskey in hand.

“Is something bothering you, sir?” Albus asked slowly, making sure he didn´t accidentally spook the man. But to his surprise, his rimmed red eyes only drifted to stare at him in complete silence. He stared at him until Albus looked away. “Ma´am wants to speak with you, sir” In his discomfort, the pet couldn´t force himself to hold eye contact as he should. He had the impression he would be slapped if he dared.

His heart raced at the long sigh and the leather of the couch cracking as he stood.

“Got it” He simply said as he walked past him.

“S-Sir! I´m very sorry for your loss, Mister,” Albus rushed to say, turning on his heels to face him. The corpulent man stayed still on his place as he continued “My words may not have much value, but if anything, Mister Rupert appreciated all you did for his health and…Even Mister Robert must be really thankful for your care” as soon as the words left his mouth, Albus felt a fire burning on his cheeks, but his legs became jelly when the man turned around with a tight frown sitting on his face.

The man´s face softened and then hardened as he looked at the ground. The tension in the two meters between them was thick enough to cut, only making the pet struggle harder to hide his trembling limbs.

“Albus?”

“Yes!” The pet jumped to answer in a half choked yelp.

“In your dreams, the highway you see…Do you remember if you had been there before?” the man asked in a somber tone that left Albus speechless.

“How do you know about that?” Albus replied after a second, a bad feeling settling on his stomach and exploding when he had to readjust his glasses to see what the papers in front of him had on them. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed they were his drawings, made in a rush, furiously scribbled away and torn apart, pieced together with tape. “Why do you have that?” he asked almost in a bark, his training slipping for just a second.

“Sann is worried about your nightmares and came to me for a way to help you” . At that, Albus´ anger plummeted, switched entirely with slight embarrassment and guilt. He didn´t have enough time to dwell on the feeling as the man rasped his throat to catch his attention “I´ll ask you again, Albus. I need you to be honest with me. Do you remember anything having to do with this highway?'' The man said with eyes lacking the usual softness both pets were so used to now.

Albus stared at the pages extended out for him and immediately recognized the puncturing throbbing. Warning of a tight white pain buzzing on the left side of his skull, getting stronger the longer he stared. But as he had told Sann when he found them hidden below the mattress, there was nothing but hot, blinding pain when he looked at it.

“No, I´m sorry” he said, snapping his head to the side with closed eyes. Slowly exhaling in relief as he felt the pain recede. Harshly, he grabbed the Albino by the shoulders and pressed so tight he let out a yelp. 

“Dont you dare lie to me Albus” The man growled. The boy whimpered at the tightening of his grip. “You always get a headache when you remember something, don´t you?” that he couldn´t deny but… “Tell me the truth, Albus! That's an order!” the man all but screamed, making him flinch. 

“I-I don´t-” 

“Don´t you remember a Handler named Sanders?” the man watched his eyes blow wide, the pain of a headache so evident when his knees failed him “ah, so you do!” Claude huffed before straightening up. Claude was a corpulent man, stronger and taller than Sann, so when he shoved Albus against the wall, his head banged against it so hard his sight got spotty. “Tell me everything you know, right now, pet”

“Sir, please- I don´t remember! I don´t know!” he pleaded, trying to keep the pain -the memories- away. But he only got shoved to the ground. The shock of being sent flying against the tiles, made the blurry image of being tossed inside a van flash through his mind. 

“What's going on?” Sarahi emerged from her studio, only to find Albus on the ground with his hands covering his head. She knew the telltale signs of a headache when she saw it, so she stepped to help Albus up before Claude grabbed him by the neck of his coat. “Claude!?”

The doctor harshly grabbed his hair and parted it so Sarahi could see too “You see this?” he yelled at her, Albus yelping when he tugged him closer to her. “This scar wasn´t from training at all! Do you know how he got it?”

“What does it matter!?” Sarahi started watching Albus twist under him, the doctor firmly subduing him. “Stop it, Claude! You´re hurting him!” 

He ignored her swatting and went down to talk to the albino, his eyes crossing in pain as flashes of the past rushed through his head in waves of heat. His body's reaction to the Drip´s drugs to erase memories that didn´t belong to him anymore. That weren´t useful for being a pet. 

“Do you remember it, Albus? Do you remember how three years ago you got this scar?” the man said, furious when Albus flinched away with a yelp. “Don´t you remember how you fucking tried to escape the facility?! I would think something like that would be hard to forget!” he laughed histerically. 

“What?” Sarahi asked, freezing in place. 

“Didn´t you? Didn´t you try to run away Albus? Do you not remember getting so far, you actually reached the highway next to the forest?” The man shook him again as Sarahi yelled at him to stop.

Albus was in too much pain to bother trying to decipher what she was yelling that made Claude tug him away. He scrunched his eyes with a whine. The man´s words had made another wave of memories flash through his head. In them, just like in his dream, he saw the highway. He was running away from people in uniforms, and in his rush, he ended up ripping his clothes with the sharp foliage surrounding him. 

Why was he running? 

He remembered the sky, so clear above him, the sunlight almost blinding after who knows how long under the artificial lamps…It was a memory from his first training? But then, why was he outside? 

Sanders…His blond hair and the smell of meat sauce overwhelmed him. Sanders was the handler that gave him position training. Why…Why did Claude mention him? He had been ordered to tell him the truth, but…

“I asked you if you remember jumping into the fucking highway, pet!” Claude tugged on his hair so he could see his tear stained face. 

“Claude!”

The man only tightened his grip. “Hngh- I-I don´t know!” Albus yelled. “Sir, please! Please let me go, I don´t know!”

“Bullshit!” the man said, shoving him to the floor, the impact pushing the air out of his lungs.

He pleaded over and over again, saying he didn´t remember until Sarahi tried to pull Claude away from him, but the truth was, he felt he did. 

Every time he dreamt, he remembered more. It was just bits and pieces. A syringe he pulled to someone´s neck, a man fucking him with the room´s camera turned off, the vast blue sky of a sunny day and lastly, screams. 

He remembered Sanders, he remembered how strong his punches were when he disobeyed. When he was on the asphalt with ambulance sirens drumming in the distance and his shock collar just wouldn´t stop zapping him. 

Albus froze. How had he gotten outside? Why was he outside on the highway?

Claude didn´t give him much time to dwell on it before he grabbed him by his collar, choking him as tears fell on Albus´ face. 

“We lost everyone in one day” He cried as Albus froze underneath him “One moment we were happy and the next…” Sarahi had stopped trying to push him away from Albus to look at her partner with a tight frown on her face. Listening attentively to his every word “We lost my brother, Sarahi lost her kids and her husband. Robert lost his husband and his mother. They all died, because my brother tried to avoid something on the road…”

“Claude,” she suddenly went, delicately grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. Yet, his fists still held tightly to Albus´ collar, pinning him down “I already told you I don´t remember seeing anything like that. This is just an episode. You´re alright now, ok? We will take care of you, Claude” At every word, he shook his head. 

“You don´t remember because you were unconscious, Sarahi, '' he said, lifting himself and pulling Albus to his feet. “But you do remember now, don´t you?” he looked down at him as tears streamed down his face.

For a moment, silence ruled the place.

“...Pl-Please, let me go” the boy managed to say before he got backhanded so hard his world went black for a second. Only cleared up when Claude stopped him from escaping his grip by grabbing his arm. 

“YOU DO REMEMBER IT WAS YOU NOW, DON´T YOU?!” He stepped forward, making Albus shrink into himself. He could feel Sarahi´s eyes nailed on him, her face shocked. 

“Sir, Ma´am, please! I-I don´t-”

“Albus,” she silenced him, closing the distance between them. She yanked Claude´s hand off his collar then. Without the man´s support, his world still swirled around him, so he fell to his knees immediately. But when he looked up he saw an enraged, disgusted man and a woman who was trying her hardest to stop the tears rushing down her cheeks. 

“Ma´am, please, I don´t-” he remembered running through the woods. Rushing to a highway. “Please, I-I didn´t know” he remembered screams. “I never- I never imagined- I never thought-! “ he saw Sarahi´s face fall as fat tears rolled down her face and his heart wrenched. He saw Claude step forward and Sarahi stopped him by extending an arm.

“Don´t” she croaked before looking back at Albus “...and then?”

“I-” His voice failed him. 

“What happened then?!” she screamed, trying to not choke on her tears. He flinched at the desperation in her tone, tears springing to his eyes as he saw her lip trembling.

“I remember a van and- I didn´t see it until it was right before me, but it turned” and it turned and it turned and it turned, until the screaming stopped. 

There was a silence then and suddenly, stupidly, Albus hoped that memory was a fake one, like he was told all his memories were after being under the Drip. His hope shattered when he heard the exact same screams coming from the two people before him. 

Overwhelming grief making them choke in their wailing, Albus saw Claude pull Sarahi into a hug so tight, yet it couldn´t muffle her screams.

Albus froze on the ground, hearing their helplessness before they twisted in his head. The image of the two grieving people before him blurred and transformed. A tree and a red sunrise appeared before him. His throat burnt. But the reason wasn´t the leather collar, not the scratchy rope he could faintly feel sometimes, either. 

It was the same burning pain of screaming for a full day in overwhelming grief. 

It took only one second for the image before him to focus on the illusion -the memory- of a girl hanging by a branch of a tree, swinging with the wind ever so slowly. 

His screams joined theirs as he paddled away. Mind lost in a haze when Claude kicked him straight on his stomach. 

“What are you screaming for?” the man spat at the boy curling up into a ball on the floor, heaving to catch his breath. The man dragged him up by his coat and then pulled him to their room. 

“W-What are you gonna do?” Sarahi asked, lifting herself up from the floor to trail after them. Suddenly a door opened. She looked at the front door, from where Sann stepped in with shopping bags, trembling in fear. 

“What's going on?” he signed, but only watched Sarahi sprint towards her room when Albus screamed again. He was quick to toss the bags and follow after her.

“NO, PLEASE, PLEASE, WAIT! PLEASE, I'M SO SORRY!” He fought to escape Claude´s iron grip on his collar, throwing him into the bed to subdue him before grabbing something from a box. Sann´s heart jumped at the sight of a shock collar. 

“SORRY”? SORRY IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?” Claude yells above his screams and kicks, putting his whole body over him to take it off and quickly change it with the shock collar. “I'm gonna make you sorry” he said purposely tightening the collar so Albus would choke a little before he finished buckling it. 

Stepping out of his frozen state, Sann lunged over him, throwing him to the floor as he picked Albus up and pushed him behind him. 

“WHAT´S GOING ON?!” He signed in short flashes of movement. But before he could get an answer, he heard the door to the garden slide open and when he turned, he saw Albus running away. 

“CATCH HIM!” he yelled at Sann, but when he rushed to grab the sleeve of his coat, he whipped around and twisted his arm so hard, Sann bent over, ripping his sleeve at the shoulder.

Out of breath, Albus looked at the three people before him like a deer in headlights, legs shaking like jello before his eyes widened, noticing what he had done. 

“Sann, I-” suddenly his eyes widened and turned desperately to run away.

He didn´t stop running. Not even when they heard him scream in pain and Sann turned bewildered to find Sarahi, made an ocean of tears, pressing down hard on the shock collar´s remote. 

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

The Mother of My Child

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after Bloodbound 3, but I made a few changes. MC is still human, she is only Turned after they have a daughter. It came from a request, so it won’t be long, probably two parts, but I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: there’s a little bit of violence in the middle, but not much.

Part 1

The Mother of My Child - Part 2 (Finale)

During the last trimester, the only strong effect pregnancy was having on Annie was making her feel sleepy all the time. If insomnia robbed her nights for almost five months, now the woman couldn’t stay awake for long, always napping around the house. She was officially on maternity leave with no date to come back. Since her bosses were actually the child’s mother and godfather, the woman had all the time in the world to rest.

The pregnancy was already seven months long, almost eight. Her exams were perfect, nothing to worry about. It all indicated a healthy kid what would be born in nine weeks. Kamilah had put together a team of doctors in case of any problems during labour, with Annie or the child. She didn’t want to leave things up to fate.

“You are unbulivabu.” The human showed up at the bedroom door, a toothbrush hanging in her mouth. “Why is there four nursis checking on me??”

 “I gave them your number, so it will be easier to monitor what you feel.” Kamilah was laying on the bed while reading another book about breast feeding.

“Ughhhhhhh” Annie went back to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste and clean her face. When turned to leave, she accidentally bumped her toe on the door. “Ouch! Shit!”

 “Is it the baby??” The Vampire was suddenly in front of her, hands grabbing the woman by the arms.

 “Gee, chill. I just hurt my toe.” She laughed, letting Kamilah take her to bed. “You see, my Nana used to say that the more we try to control destiny, the more it escape our plans.”

“Not on my watch.”

That next afternoon, things got kind of busy at Ahmanet Financial. The Vampire was getting in and out of meetings, constantly checking her phone to make sure there was no messages from her wife. Annie was probably napping again.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Sayeed. The Baron wishes to have a word.”

“Ugh. Fine. Let him in. Thank you, Paul.”

Kamilah crossed her arms, waiting for that despising figure to emerge from the door. The smell of old whiskey and cigar took over the whole office. The Baron had two men with him, but both stayed a few steps behind.

“What do you want? The Council will meet next week.” she sighed, not in the mood to deal with another ‘Priya is stealing my territory’ argument.

“Good afternoon to you. That’s why I’m here. We must vote for whoever gets to control the north part of the city. I just want to make sure you choose correctly.” The Baron had such an ugly smile.

“Is that a threat?” the Vampire’s eyes were dangerously red. “I don’t wish that territory to belong to either of you. Both proved to be incompetents in the past.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to vote?” he approached her desk with heavy steps, pulling a phone from the pocket. “You know how much that area means to me.”

“What I know is that you want to open another underground casino, when you already have one working and causing us too much trouble already. I told you to get your men under control. It’s not my problem anymore. Now get the hell out of my office before I lose my patience.”

 “Careful there. You might regret it.” The Baron turned his phone so Kamilah could see what was on the screen. “I came to negotiate. And I’m prepared.”

The Egyptian felt her own nails digging through the skin when she closed her hands in fists. “How… Dare… You…”

“You didn’t leave me a choice. Now, I will tell you exactly what I want, and you’re going to do give it to me. I’ll even leave the phone here, at your table, so you don’t lose focus.” He laughed at his own joke, sinking in one of the chairs.

Kamilah just kept a tense posture, staring at the screen where Annie was being filmed. Four of The Baron’s men were there, one of them holding a gun to her ribs. Something caught The Vampire’s attention in the scene. The way her wife was leaning back, hands roaming the belly… “You bastard, she is in labour!”

“A small setback. Focus. The faster we solve it, higher are the chances of you seeing your first child being born.”

Kamilah took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be wise to lose her temper now.

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

 At the Penthouse

“Please, I need to sit…” Annie had tears on her eyes, only able to stand up because of a rough hand on her back. “This hurts too much, I can’t…”

“Fine. Sit on the couch. Don’t try anything stupid.” He pushed her forward, a gun still pointed at the woman.

It all happened so fast. One minute, she was asleep, taking another regular afternoon nap. Then, a man was in her room, two, three, four. Annie recognized all of them later, but the sudden view of strangers in her house made her heart speed at first. The body couldn’t take that much adrenaline all at once. When they pulled her out of bed, the woman screamed and felt a deep pain pressuring her ribs. A couple minutes afterwards, she had a liquid coming down her legs. It was too early to have the baby, and the fear this could hurt her child only made it worse.

Annie knew why they were filming her. That’s why she was holding it in as much as she could, trying hard not to cry or show too much pain. Kamilah was probably being blackmailed, and the last thing the human wanted was for her wife to lose herself in anger.

“Oh no, no, no, no, stay inside little one, wait for your mommy…” she whispered, holding the belly as contractions were getting stronger. There was this desperate wish to arch and open the legs, her own body trying to tell her what to do.

One of their cell phones started ringing. The taller man answered and gave the others a knowing signal.

“It’s your lucky day.” said the one who pointed her the gun.

All four of them disappeared behind the door. Now, alone, without a camera filming her, Annie finally screamed against a pillow, dizzy of pain. Her heart was pounding against the chest. Then, a hand touched her shoulder.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Lily was leaning in, trying to find any injuries.

“Where is she?” the woman cried, removing the pillow. It was all too much.

“I’ll take you to the hospital, Kamilah will meet us there, she’s with Adrian… Finishing some business. You know.”

Something exploded downstairs. Guns started to fire.

“I don’t care what the hell is going on in there, you tell my wife to come here NOW!”

“Girl, you need a doctor.” She tried to lift her, but Annie only slid and grabbed the couch. There was a fire in her eyes that would give Lily nightmares for months.

“KAMILAH SAYEED YOU COME UP HERE RIGHT NOW OR I’M GOING TO LOCK THIS CHILD INSIDE MY WOMB!”

All the noises suddenly stopped. No explosion, guns firing, things breaking… Just the soft sound of the elevator’s doors opening. The Egyptian didn’t have a single strand of hair out of place, although her blazer was ripped near the pocket. A woman in a white coat was following her, completely terrified.

“Finally!” Annie rested her back against the couch, squatting and screaming as pushed the baby for the first time. Her body was only covered by a thin nightdress.

“Oh goodness, get me a sterilized towel!” the doctor fell on the floor, sitting right in front of the pregnant woman.

“On it!” Lily left and came back in half a second.

“I am deeply sorry…” Kamilah started, finding her place beside Annie, but she was interrupted by a kiss. Foreheads together, their eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like the pain was slowly drifting away. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The human smiled, arching again in another strong push.

“Is it… Going well?” Adrian hesitated, not sure what to do. They didn’t even notice him coming out of the elevator, all covered in blood. “Can I get anything?”

“Yes, warm water…” the doctor gasped at that sight, almost losing track of what was happening. “Uhm… Right… You’re almost there, just one more push. A strong one. 3…2…”

Annie’s scream was substituted by a soft crying when the baby came out. Adrian had brought the water, so the doctor could clean the child a little bit before giving it to the mothers. Him and Lily were fighting against the tears, both holding hands.

“Oh man, we have a baby!” said the younger Vampire.

“Indeed, we do.” Kamilah took the child in her arms, cradling her close to the chest. It was the smallest human being she had ever seen in her two thousand years. “Lysia.”

“We have a family.” The most perfect family Annie could ever ask for.

“Well, I’m… I’m going to clean downstairs.” Adrian wiped his tears, slowly recomposing himself.

“Thank you, brother.”

“Wait, where did you come from?” Annie was suddenly staring at the doctor she had never seen before. “You’re not my doctor.”

“Mrs. Sayeed had me at Ahmanet Financial in case an emergency happened.”

“She… Oh my god, Kamilah. You had a doctor standing there, all day long, just in case?” the woman turned to see those guilty brown eyes.

“I told you I wasn’t going to risk anything.”

“Well, you know what?” Annie frowned, pretending to be mad for a second, but her sparkling eyes were telling the truth. She was the happiest woman alive. “I am so glad you’re the mother of my child.”

Tagging: @kamilahismyqueen and @nydeiri

[herohotline]

Wet Clay (P.2)

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Summary: You finally have your first session when Uraraka comes by your office. Things are steadily flowing in your job now, and you learn a little more about Aizawa as you talk with his students. 

Word Count: 5,000+

Part One | Part Three | Part Four

The first thing you added to your office was a tall bamboo plant- your sister gave it to you a while ago and you never thought it did very well in your house. Then you brought a few carpets, and then some lamps to create a better atmosphere. You even got some candles to sit on top of the miniature bookcase you hauled in with Ectoplasm’s help. After that, you started to bring in the items that were mainly for stimulation: squishy balls, clay, water beads… 

You always liked playing with them yourself whenever your patients left and you were alone. 

Besides introducing yourself to the 1-B class, you haven’t done much in U.A. You were beginning to feel a little restless, but you knew you had to give the students some time before they came to you. 

For now, it was just… boring. 

Today is Wednesday, so it’s officially been a week and two days since you were hired. Nezu came by at one point to admire the progress in your office, but you were ashamed to admit to him that the progress ended there. He didn’t seem surprised, though, so at least you weren’t in trouble with your boss. 

It was strange thinking of a little insanely smart mouse-bear as your boss, but that’s what the world is now. 

But, finally, something happens. You’re sitting at your desk and wondering what you’ll eat for lunch today when there’s 3 quiet knocks on your door. It surprises you so much you almost yell out- but you keep yourself quiet as you rush over to the door. Is it a student?

Opening your office, you see a familiar brunette with pink cheeks. “Oh, uh… Uraraka, was it?”

The girl smiles as she places her hands together. “Yes! I’m glad you remembered!” 

“Me too,” you laugh, opening your door a bit wider. “Would you like to come in?”

“Ah… yes please.” She bows her head respectfully as she enters, and then lights up again when she looks around. “It looks really nice in here!” 

Closing the door, you head over to one of the plush seats and sit on the edge. She slowly does the same thing, sitting on the couch instead. “Thank you, I worked hard to make it homey here. May I ask why you came to me today?” 

Uraraka lets out a nervous breath, still smiling as she fidgets in her seat. “Honestly, I just wanted to see what this was like… I know everyone’s pretty wary to come, and I wanted to see for myself.” 

Ah, that makes sense. You tried hard to make a good impression the first day, but teenager’s trust isn’t gained so easily. 

“Well, I appreciate you coming to me, Uraraka. You’ll see that I’m not very scary, I just want to help you have a shoulder to lean on. But we don’t have to talk if you’re uncomfortable.” 

“I… want to try,” she says. You admire her for her bravery and you silently lean back in your seat, giving her time to think of what she wants to say. With the look on her face, you can tell she’s trying to concentrate and you don’t want to break it. “...Sometimes I feel a little selfish.” 

She stops there, so you take that as your cue. “Why do you think that?” 

Her hands fidget in her lap nervously, wringing her skirt. “I want to become a hero to help my family. I want to make money so they don’t have to work as hard, but… becoming a hero for my own needs seems…” 

“Selfish,” you finish for her and she nods her head. You take a minute to think before reaching under your coffee table, pulling out your basket of goodies and setting it on top. “You can use any of these if you're nervous. I personally like the jumble ones, they act like knots,” you grab one of the toys and use it yourself. 

Uraraka hesitates, but eventually, she grabs one of the balls and gives it a firm squeeze. 

“Uraraka, you’re not selfish. You’re selfless. You love your family and you’ve decided to become their hero. Loving your family and wanting to take care of them doesn’t make you selfish- it makes you kind.” 

Your voice comes out low and soothing, the way you find it best to talk when you’re dealing with unconfident people. She looks up at you nervously, still squeezing the ball in her hand. “Are you sure?” She asks and you give her your best smile. 

“Very. Your parents are very lucky to have a thoughtful daughter like you, and I’m sure they know it, too.” 

Uraraka seems to lighten up, just a little bit. 

——

You and Uraraka continue to talk for around half an hour before she notices it’s time for lunch and she doesn’t want to miss it. You write her a slip in case she’s late to anything- and then you notice how she’s still squeezing the ball. 

“I have one more question for you before you go, Uraraka.” You stand up and she follows you. “Does squeezing that bring you comfort at all?” 

She looks down at the toy with wide eyes, her cheeks a little more pink than usual. “O-oh! I didn’t notice I still had it… I guess it does.” 

“Then you should keep it,” you suggest and she wildly shakes her head. 

“I- I couldn’t! This is yours!” 

“Don’t worry,” you smile at her and walk to your office door, opening it widely. “I have plenty. If it makes you happy when you’re anxious, I want you to have it. That’s what it’s meant for.” 

“Y-you’re sure?” She keeps looking at you unsurely as you slowly nudge her out. 

“Very.”

And then, surprisingly, she rushes back to you. Her arms envelop you in a hug, catching you completely off guard before she’s suddenly a few feet away from you again. “Thank you for today, ____!” Uraraka bows rather harshly before she’s running far, far away from you, down the hall and around the corner. 

You watch her with a big smile, your heart feeling just a little lighter- and you don’t think it’s because of her quirk. You’re still grinning as you lock your office and head down to the convenience store outside of U.A for a much-earned lunch- it’s like you can’t stop. But who can blame you? 

You’re finally doing your job, and it felt good. 

——

“Hey, what’s that?” 

The class is in the middle of a group project when Ashido points out Uraraka’s stress ball, placed firmly in her hand. 

“Oh! ___ gave it to me! It’s a stress ball…” Several of her teammates perk up in interest- Momo only sighing as she could tell that they weren’t going to work on the project for a bit. 

“You went to see them? How was it?” Jirou asks.

Uraraka flushes. “It was… really nice, actually. I was able to just talk for a while and have someone listen and not judge me for it. And ___ is really nice, too.” 

“Really? I’m glad you liked it…”

From a few desks away, Aizawa sits in his desk chair as he watches the students do their work. His ears perk up when he hears Uraraka talking about you, and his eyes drift down to the stress ball in Uraraka’s hand. 

How about that? Aizawa sighs, peeved that his students aren’t paying attention but glad that they’re finally getting help. He knows you’ve been sitting alone in your office for a while now- it’s good that someone finally went. They could all use it. 

Eventually, he has to get up and scold his students to get back to work, but he makes sure to pat Uraraka on the back as he walks off back to his desk. 

——

The next student to visit you was Yaoyorozu, then Asui (who insisted you called her Tsuyu, and you did your best to remember), and a few girls from class B. You’re not at all surprised that the girls were the first to come over to your office, but it made you wonder who your first male student would be. Teenage boys seem to be very headstrong, especially in this school, so it will probably be a while until one of them admits to wanting a little counseling. You’ll just have to wait, like usual.

Today you don’t mind waiting. Getting out of bed was a bit harder than usual, your feet dragging wherever you went. You know that you should probably eat to get some energy, the only problem with that was… you didn’t have any energy. You’re alone in your office, basically lying down on your desk when you suddenly remember an image you saw once. Apparently, a radish gives you enough energy to walk 28 feet- but the next radish was just one more foot away and a skeleton lied on the grown trying to reach it. You were that skeleton today. So close… but no cigar (or, in this case, radish). Silently you laugh to yourself about how ridiculous your head was being. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Uh-oh. You snap your head up from your desk to see Aizawa standing in the doorway. “Oh, hey-” your sentence breaks as you yawn uncontrollably, your body slowly sagging back on your desk. “...Hey Aizawa.” 

“Not all of us have access to a couch, you know. If you’re that tired you should use it.” 

“Mm… can’t. Then I’ll really fall asleep,” you chuckle and you force yourself to sit up, stretching your limbs out as far as you can. “I should get my work done.” 

Aizawa just hums, entering the office and leaving the door open behind him as he lounges over to your couch. You watch him fall against it with a chuckle. “What?” He eyes you as he shimmies to get comfortable. “You’re not using it.” 

“No, you’re absolutely right. It’s all yours.” 

A silence falls in the office then, but you don’t mind it. You get to work as Aizawa lounges, trying to be as quiet as you can while you fill out papers and put them in their respective files. Every now and then you let yourself peek at him, but he never moves. A part of you wonders why he suddenly decided to hang out with you- but it might just be because of your couch. Which is reasonable. 

Another yawn escapes you before you can stop it, making your eyes tear up. 

“Can’t be Plus Ultra if you come to work like this,” Aizawa murmurs and you roll your eyes before rubbing them free of tears. 

“You’re one to talk, sleeping bag. My body just isn’t used to working so much, but it’ll adjust eventually.” 

“Are the students keeping you busy?”

You laugh. “No, not really. They’re coming around, which is nice, but I still have my old job. Because of my school hours I either have to work in the evening or weekends.” The files you were sorting through were actually from your other job- just recently you had started researching Gender Studies for one of your patients that was questioning their identity, and needless to say, it took a lot of work. 

Aizawa finally sits up from his spot, still lounging on the couch but more upright as he leans against the armrest. “I didn’t realize you kept your other job.”

“Well, you still have your hero job, don’t you?” You smile up at him. “It’s the same thing. I worked hard to get where I am with my patients, I can’t abandon them now.” The hero hums in response, a thoughtful look crossing his face before he stands up. He groans as he stretches. 

“Have you eaten?” The random question throws you off a little as you stare up at him from your desk. 

“Uh… not really.” 

“Let’s go. Teachers get free lunches from Lunch Rush.”

“Oh- well-”

“I’m leaving.”

“But the radish…”

“What?” 

Your face flushes red as you realize what you just said and you quickly stand up from your seat, fumbling for your bag and wallet. “I said, ‘coming’!!” 

You could definitely use the food. 

---

It’s been another week at U.A, except the atmosphere is a little different than before. You heard from Yamada that exams for hero licenses just passed, so the students were buzzing from that energy. You assumed all of them had passed since you didn’t hear any different until the day that Todoroki came knocking on your door. 

He was rather blunt in his behavior, you could tell from how he entered your office and immediately sat down on one of the chairs that he knew what he was here for and he had a goal in mind. Which was good in its own way… but you have a feeling that this session is mostly going to be about getting him to relax. 

You start off small. “Where would you like me to sit, Todoroki?” 

He hums. “I don’t mind.” 

“Can I sit next to you?” You approach the chair next to him and you can see how he tenses- something you don’t think he’s aware of. Instead, you move to the couch across from him, putting a reasonable space between you. “That’s fine, I rather like this couch. Are you comfortable?” 

He’s silent. 

“You can be honest, Todoroki. It’s okay if you aren’t.” 

He’s still quiet. There’s a sigh building up within you but you press it down, not wanting to offend him in any way. Your mind is already coming up with ideas- one of them has you lighten up as you stand and move to your bookcase. “I have something I think you’d like. Would you help me?” Todoroki doesn’t stand but his eyes follow you as he silently nods. You smile back at him and take out an unopened box from the shelf, bringing it to the coffee table. On top of the box is a cup and you hand it to him. 

“While I open this, I’d like you to put ice in that cup. Is that okay?” 

The student seems baffled but he does as he’s told, putting shards of ice in the cup until it’s half full. “Great! Hey, have you ever tried making shapes with your ice?” 

Again, he’s baffled, but he finally answers. “Not really.” 

“Well, that might be something you can look into. It might be fun- with a quirk like yours, I think it’s nice you can experiment with it. That’s just me, though,” you break open the cardboard and slide out the plastic inside. “Alright, now if you would be okay with it, I’d like you to turn that ice into water.” 

You’re inadvertently asking him to use his fire quirk, which you know based on the information you got on each student is a sensitive spot for him. But he doesn’t look offended, just curious, as he wordlessly puts the cup in his left hand to warm up the ice. “Why?”

“Because this is one of my favorite activities, but it requires some water.” You pull out the hunk of grey clay before looking at your coffee table. “Actually, could you hold this?” 

You quickly hand it to him before rushing to your desk and pulling out some paper towels in one of the drawers. “I’ll have to clean up anyway, but this will help with the mess.” You place the towels on the table before sitting back down, asking for the clay back which Todoroki hands to you. You put it on top of the towels before breaking it in half, placing one part in front of you both and then grabbing the water. “Have you ever used clay?” 

“I haven’t,” he picks up his piece curiously. He puts it back down once he sees you roll up your sleeves and does the same thing- removing his uniform coat once it gets in the way. 

“So, we both put some of the water on the clay. Then it becomes slimy but moldable. With the clay, we can make shapes. I have some other tools we can use to make details, but we’ll start like this.” Todoroki watches you as you pour half the water he made onto your clay. It molds and squishes in your hands. 

“...It’s messy.”

You laugh, “it is! But it’s a nice activity to focus on. Will you try?” You begin to pick apart your clay and make various shapes. 

“What are you making?” His hands are on the clay, but he hasn’t moved for the water yet. 

“Just a flower. Kind of like a daisy, since it’s easy. I made the middle, for the head where the pollen is,” you place a single petal on the circle and use the water to mold it in place. “And now I’m making the petals.” 

Todoroki hums, still watching you before finally he moves and gets to work. He seems to have an idea already, his hands moving with purpose. It’s successfully gotten his mind off of whatever was bothering him, you can tell by how his shoulders relax and his eyes soften. The rest of the time spent sculpting is spent in relative silence, until you can’t help but ask, “what are you making?” 

“A rose.” He says. Suddenly all the shapes he had made make sense and you go ‘ooh’ under your breath. You continue to watch him as your comical daisy is already finished. 

“I should buy more colors,” you murmur as you watch him. Todoroki has started to put all the petals together now in a circular pattern, much like a rose. It’s a slow, delicate process, but you think he likes it. 

“I like gray.” 

“Oh,” you perk up and smile. “That’s good, then.”

Once the rose is nearly put together, Todoroki finally speaks about what was bothering him. He’s not looking at you- all of his attention is on the clay, but he still talks, slow and even. “...I didn’t pass my license exam.” 

Ah. 

“Neither did Bakugo.”

Oh, boy. You wonder how Bakugo is taking it… Todoroki was clearly affected enough to come to you, and you bet Bakugo is the same, but you doubt he’d ever willingly come through your doors. You just hope Aizawa has a handle on it. 

“I see. What did you learn?” 

Todoroki finally takes his eyes off the flower, meeting your gaze with a hum. You smile and begin to clarify for him. “You didn’t get your hero license. But you still went to the exam, you learned what it’s like there. Did you learn anything about yourself in the process, or what being a hero is like?” 

“Oh.” His flower is finally finished- it’s rather beautiful, and very neat, especially for someone who’s never used clay before. He sets it carefully on the table. “I learned that I’m different. I was a lot colder at the beginning of the year.” 

“What made you realize that?” 

“There was a boy… he hated me.” Todoroki’s face shifts into discomfort, clearly affected by the boy’s feelings for him. “I don’t blame him. I think he’s okay with me now, but…” 

“Do you regret something?” You can read it all over him. He nods, his hands moving to his lap before he hesitates- they’re sticky with clay. “Oh!” You grab a spare paper towel and dip it in the water that remains in the cup- which isn’t a lot, but it makes the towel damp as you hand it to him. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s fine. It was fun.” He softly cleans his hands before unraveling his sleeves and putting them back down his arms. Then he grabs the cup again, once again filling it with ice and then melting it before he hands it to you. “...So you can clean your hands.” 

“Thank you, Todoroki,” you smile gratefully and get your own paper towel, wiping yourself off. “Your quirk is very useful in a lot of different ways.” 

“I’m beginning to realize that,” he murmurs and you smile at him again. It’s then that the school bell rings over the speakers and you look up, surprised. 

“Oh! I guess the next class is starting.” And you were right in the middle of getting him to open up, too… “Would you like to stay or go to class?” 

“I should get going,” Todoroki says with a shake of his head as he stands, putting his uniform coat back on and buttoning it up. You suppose that’s fair- Todoroki doesn’t seem like the type who wants to miss class, especially now that he’s behind in his exam. He heads right for the door but you quickly stand up, trying to stop him. 

“Todoroki!” You walk over to him- he’s still a child, but he’s almost your height, which is a little upsetting for you. “Listen, I’m very glad you came to talk to me today. Don’t be afraid to come back, alright? And if you do,” you point over to your desk, “I’ll have your clay baked and maybe we can paint it.” 

He eyes the flower that he made- and surprisingly- he smiles. “I’d like that.” He tells you, honesty in his voice and you grin. 

“I’ll see you then. Have a good day, Todoroki.”

“...You too.”

---

The successful session with Todoroki has you buzzing with energy. This was good- great progress. If things keep going like this, you could successfully decipher what U.A needed and hire even more therapists for the entire school. If you could get these kids to open up, relieve their worries and help fix their problems, you could die happy knowing you made a difference. 

You rush into the Teacher’s Lounge after school, a pep in your step as you hold a small box in your hands. Inside is yours and Todoroki’s flowers. There are only a few people in the lounge- Yagi, Aizawa, and Yamada. Thankfully they’re all in the same corner so you rush over with a ‘hey!’

“Hey hey! What’s got you so pepped up?” Yamada grins, his voice is as loud as ever. You smile back. 

“I’m afraid that’s confidential,” Yamada deflates and you laugh. “But I was wondering if any of you have an oven? My apartment doesn’t have one and I need to bake this clay.”

Yagi looks at your little box. “Clay?” He scratches his chin, frowning. “I don’t have one, unfortunately.” 

“None of the teacher’s rooms have one, either…” 

“You can use mine,” Aizawa finally speaks up, tearing his eyes away from the computer he’s typing on. “When do you need to use it?” 

You think for a minute- you have no idea when Todoroki will come back, and you promised that it would be done when he does… You may have made a flighty promise. “Uhm… As soon as possible? Whenever you’ll let me, honestly.”

The hero sighs, closing his eyes as he scoots his chair back before standing up and popping his back. “Let’s go then.” 

Aizawa’s neverending deadpan behavior never ceases to amuse and surprise you. 

“Right now?” 

He’s already headed for the door, not saying anything else and you take that as your cue to follow. Quickly waving goodbye to Yamada and Yagi, you dash over to Aizawa, who’s already walking toward the doors. “Would it kill you to wait up?” 

“Yes.” 

For a nice guy, he really seemed to like keeping you on your toes.

---

Aizawa’s apartment is simplistic and minimalistic- you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you’re not surprised. You bow as you walk in, toeing off your shoes at the door. Aizawa removes his capture weapon- which you hadn’t seen him without before- and then he walks down the small hallway and disappears when he turns to the left. 

As you’re left alone in the hallway, you suddenly realize how personal it is to be in his home. You still don’t know a lot about your co-workers- you feel a little guilty to barge in like this. 

When you follow Aizawa’s path, you find him in his kitchen. It’s tile floors are a clean white color, the walls the same. He’s bent over the oven, reaching into its bottom drawer before pulling out a cookie sheet and setting it on top of a counter. “Is this good?” He looks over to you, his hair in his face as he’s still crouched and you nod.

“Yeah, it’s great! Thank you a lot for this.” 

Aizawa just hums, backing out of the kitchen. “Feel free to use it however you want- I’m getting out of these clothes.” He disappears right after that, leaving you alone in his kitchen. 

You place the box on the counter next to the cookie sheet and roll up your sleeves. Okay, time to get to work. You haven’t baked clay in a while, but you think you remember how to do it. The first thing that needs to happen is to preheat the oven and you do so- you notice that the thing looks sort of high tech, so it shouldn’t take long. 

...What do you do now? 

You hear padding footsteps from behind you, and when you turn around- wow. Just wow. 

You burst out laughing before you can stop it and you slap a hand over your mouth. “Shut up,” Aizawa sneers, “I don’t have a lot of clothes left here since we moved to the dorms.”

“It looks good!” Your laughter doesn’t really help with that statement, but it’s true! The pink sweatpants that he wears really give him a cuter look than usual. Your burst of laughter is thankfully gone now- thank god- and you calm down with a few more giggles. “Where did you get those?” 

Aizawa rolls his eyes. It’s only now that you notice that he’s tied his hair up, making his expressions a lot more animated now that you can see his entire face. “Kayama.” 

“Of course,” you grin. The oven behind you beeps, startling you for a second before you realize that it’s telling you it’s done pre-heating. “I’m envious of your place. It’s really nice here.” Aizawa walks up to your side, peeking at the clay you made before you pop it in the oven. 

“I miss it. It’s better than the dorms.” He sinks to his knees as he looks in the oven again and you shoo him away with your foot. 

“No looking! This is therapy work in the making!” 

“Did you make the daisy?” 

“...I can’t tell you that.” 

“It looks awful.”

“BUH- Hey!” 

Aizawa grins- a Cheshire cat grin- as he rises to his feet again before walking off to the living room. You realize he just tricked you into telling him that the daisy is, in fact, your project and you huff. “That was a dirty trick.”

“Yeah, well.” He flicks on his television, affectively showing that he doesn’t care, before taking a seat on his couch with a sigh. “How long does it take?” 

You hum, the irritation quickly fading away. “I’ll have to check on it in 15 minutes, and after that, it’ll either be done or need a bit longer. Thank you again for letting me into your home.” 

“Thank you for taking care of my students,” he says bluntly, catching you off guard yet again. His eyes are watching whatever news channel popped on but he spares you a glance. It lasts a single second before he looks back at the television. “They’re definitely doing better. I’m glad Todoroki came to you.”

“How do you know that?” You would have thought he’d keep something like that quiet. 

“After he failed his exam, I told him to come to you,” Aizawa says. “I’m still working on Bakugo.” 

“I figured... He told me about the exam, so I can only imagine how Bakugo is handling it. I want to talk to him more than anyone else, honestly, but it’s going to be difficult.” 

You finally decide that talking from across rooms is silly, so you move into the living room with Aizawa and take a seat on the other end of the couch. “Why Bakugo?” He asks and you snort, leaning on the armrest. 

“You’re his teacher, I’m sure you know. He’s been kidnapped, of all things! His behavior is loud and defensive- he’s always angry. Anger is a secondary emotion, you know. There’s always something that triggers it.” 

Aizawa hums, his fingers tapping on his thigh. It catches your attention for a split second before you realize you’re looking at his thighs and you quickly look away. “If you’re going to try to help Bakugo, you’re going to need to talk to Midoriya first. They’re basically rivals.”

“Oh, really?” 

Aizawa laughs. “Oh, yeah.”

You deflate a little bit and groan. “Maybe I should come to the classes again and observe or something. I still don’t know a lot about them.” You would have never guessed Midoriya would have a rival. 

“It’s not a bad idea. We can schedule something soon.” 

The oven dings again- has it really been 15 minutes? You scramble up from your seat and check on the clay from the glass- they look perfect. “Where’s your uh, your,” oh, you’ve forgotten the word, “Your.... claw hands?” 

“My oven mitts?” Even from across the room, you can see how his eyebrows shoot up as he snorts. “In the drawer next to you, on the right.” 

“Right,” you hiss through your teeth in embarrassment, your cheeks overwhelmingly warm as you grab the oven mitts and take the cookie sheet out of the oven. Thankfully, none of the clay has cracked, which is perfect. 

“A rose?” Aizawa’s voice comes up from right behind you and you jump in surprise, almost hitting him in the jaw as you do. 

“Fucking- Christ! What are you, a ninja?!” You place a hand over your heart as you stare up at him. He’s laughing at you again- which is honestly a really handsome laugh, but you don’t care because you’re kind of pissed. 

“It’s my job to be quiet.”

“Yeah- well!” You guess that makes sense. Not having anything else to say, you turn back towards the clay. You didn’t hit it, thank god. “And no, you may not ask why Todoroki made a rose.” 

“Do you even know why he made a rose?”

“Shut the fuck up, buddy.” 

You didn’t.

[mausi-shan]

I turned my Spotify 2020 playlist into lyric prompts

1.       “Show me a grey sky, a rainy cab ride Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time.” – London Boy, Taylor Swift

2.       “I’ve never been in love before, I don’t know what I’m doing I’ve never been too worldly in the ways of woman wooing I know how crazy lucky I am to love you.” – Get This Right, Jonathan Groff

3.       “Lights out, I found out my fallen star Goodbye, the sun rises and there’s no more you and I! Tell me how can you sleep? How can you breathe? Baby, tell me how, how you love me now?” - How You Love Me Now, Hey Monday

4.       “North is south, right is left when you’re gone I’m the one who sees you home but now I’m lost in the woods And I don’t know what path you are on” – Lost In The Woods, Jonathan Groff

5.       “Promise I’ve already learned my lesson, but right now I wanna be not okay” – You Don’t Know What It’s Like, Katelyn Tarver

6.       “This is falling in love in the cruellest way This is falling for you and you are worlds away” – Come Back… Be Here, Taylor Swift

7.       “From coast to coast I’ll make the most of every second that I’ve been given with this crowd Without a doubt, you’re all I dream about At night we lie awake with stories taking us back to the nights we felt alive” – Vegas, All Time Low

8.       “He doesn’t want to bang you Somebody hang you!” – Don’t Lose Ur Head, Six

9.       “I thought this time was different Why did I think he’d be different? But it’s never, ever different!” – All You Wanna Do, Six

10.   “If I said I want your body, would you hold it against me? Seven in the morning, wanna listen to Britney? Anything you want, baby, that’s okay with me now” – Sleeping In, All Time Low

11.   “My heart, my hips, my body, my love Trying to find a part of me that you didn’t touch Now I’m looking for signs in a haunted club.” – Death By A Thousand Cuts, Taylor Swift

12.   “And I don’t give a damn about my bad reputation Never said I wanted to improve my station” – Bad Reputation, Joan Jett

13.   “This distance tears me apart God, I need to see you So when the homesickness starts and you’re missing me too I’m gone too long, but when you’re here it’s worth it So just hold on” – Fall To Pieces, Junior

14.   “Lyrical smile, indigo eyes Hand on my thigh We can follow the sparks I’ll drive” – I Think He Knows, Taylor Swift

15.   “I’m a user and abuser so I don’t need no accuser To slap me down ‘cause I know you’re right” – When I Come Around, Green Day

16.   “He’ll never fall in love he swears, as he runs his fingers through his hair I’m laughing ‘cause I hope he’s wrong” – I’d Lie, Taylor Swift

17.   “I’ve been in love and lost my senses Spinning through the town” – I Wanna Dance With Somebody, Fall Out Boy  (Whitney Houston cover)

18.   “I’ve been first class, spent cash Been broke, no joke, nothing good ever lasts Been sued, been screwed, been chewed up Been loved, been lost but never used up This world’s not big enough for us You hate but you’re singing that chorus We’re kings you can’t ignore us” – Anti-Anthem, Sumo Cyco

19.   “She didn’t stutter, my chest flutters Cardiac attack in the cradle of the summer Superstitious, the kid’s vicious Bubblegum smile, taste the cherry on her lips” – Birthday, All Time Low

20.   “Got my heart out on the table And you didn’t walk away Love me if you’re able” – I Guess We’re Cool, Cassadee Pope

21.   “I can make the ground shake, Winds blow, Earth quake, Rain, snow Mountains, I can move mountains” – Move Mountains, Sumo Cyco

22.   “I wore the crown, I sold the lie I lived the life and paid for every crime.” – Some Kind Of Disaster, All Time Low

23.   “You can’t get under my skin But I get stuck in your head In case you didn’t notice, I’ve been living in it since I left” – With Or Without Me, Sainte

24.   “We’re bound to break And my hands are tied” – Rewrite The Stars, Zac Efron & Zendaya

25.   “Lovers dance when they feel in love Spotlight shining, it’s all about us” – All About Us, He Is We

26.   “A drowning will grasp at straws, a willing man drowns for a cause The blood will spill as cigars blaze and great white jaws will be your cage” – Sleep Tight, Sumo Cyco

27.   “Tell me that we’ll be just fine Tell me that you’re still mine Even when I lose my mind” – Afterglow, Taylor Swift

28.   “All this time, I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) Never turned things around (You never turned things around) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs. So many signs)” – exile, Taylor Swift & Bon Iver

29.   “What a shame, what a shame Beautiful scars on critical veins” – Kids In The Dark, All Time Low

30.   “Here we are, nearly strangers From two worlds that have rarely met But somehow you have made me someone new” – In A Place of Miracles, Hunchback of Notre Dame (but pheeble)

31.   “I give my hand to you with all my heart I can’t wait to live my life with you I can’t wait to start” – From This Moment, Shania Twain

32.   “I forgot that you Got out some popcorn as soon as my rep started going down Laughed on the schoolground as soon as I tripped and hit the ground And I would have stuck up for you Would’ve fought the whole town for you” – I Forgot That You Existed, Taylor Swift

33.   “The debt I owe, got to sell my soul ‘Cause I can’t say no No, I can’t say no Then my limbs all froze and my eyes won’t close ‘Cause I can’t say no No, I can’t say no” – Bury A Friend, Billie Eilish

34.   “Take a breath and let the rest come easy Never settle down ‘cause the cash flow leaves me always wanting more” – Dear Maria, Count Me In, All Time Low

35.   “I’m dizzy from jealousy And you’ve got something to lose But darling, don’t let that stop you” – Girlfriend, Best Ex

36.   “I’m your number one with a bullet A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it” – Sugar, We’re Goin’ Down, Fall Out Boy

37.   “When everyone believes you What’s that like?” – The Man, Taylor Swift

38.   “This is the last time I’m telling you this: Put my name at the top of your list” – The Last Time, Taylor Swift & Gary Lightbody

39.   “Do you have the time to listen to me whine?” – Basket Case, Green Day

40.   “Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are As my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost” – Wake Me Up When September Ends, Green Day

41.   “It takes a lot of courage to hold your own against the tide The wind is blowing, bar the doors, it wants to get inside It may seem hopeless, may seem like it’s the end In order to be broken, first it has to bend” – Run With The Giants, Sumo Cyco

42.   “No wonder your heart feels it’s flying, your head feels it’s spinning Each happy ending is a brand new beginning” – Ever Ever After, Carrie Underwood

43.   “There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvellous time ruining everything” – the last great american dynasty, Taylor Swift

44.   “Hey ho, let’s go Shoot ‘em in the back now What they want, I don’t know They’re all revved up and ready to go” – Blitzkreig Bop, The Ramones

45.   “You think I’m funny when I tell the punchline wrong Now every February, you’ll be my Valentine” – Teenage Dream, Katy Perry

46.   “If you want someone to save you, save yourself If you want someone to heal you, heal yourself If you want someone to save you, save yourself” – Free Yourself, Sumo Cyco

47.   “I wrote the gospel on giving up But the real bombshells have already sung” – This Ain’t A Scene, Fall Out Boy

48.   “I’m here on the kitchen floor You call, but I won’t hear it You said no one else How could you do this, babe?” – Babe, Sugarland & Taylor Swift

49.   “Sometimes I get the feeling she’s watching over me And other times, I feel like I should go When through it all, the rise and fall The bodies in the streets” – Welcome To The Black Parade, MCR

50.   “I knew you tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy” – Cardigan, Taylor Swift

51.   “But she’s so rock and roll And out of my league Is she out of my league? I hope not” – Trouble, NeverShoutNever

52.   “Do you see my face in the neighbour’s lawn? Does she smile, or does she mouth fuck you forever?” – mad woman, Taylor Swift

53.   “Diamonds, pearls and rubies all swoon Can I offer you a little salt for that wound?” – Don’t Make Me, Malinda

54.   “The night we snuck into a yacht club party pretending to be a duchess and a prince” – Starlight, Taylor Swift

55.   “I know I said some bullshit on the phone I never leave well enough alone” – ME! , Taylor Swift & Brendon Urie

56.   “Give me therapy I’m a walking travesty, but I’m smiling at everything Therapy, you were never a friend to me And you can choke on your misery” – Therapy, All Time Low

57.   “And I scream: For whatever it’s worth, I love you Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard? He looks up grinning like a devil” – Cruel Summer, Taylor Swift

58.   “Nobody tells me I need a rich man Doing my thing in my palace in Richmond” – Get Down, Six

59.   “We were something don’t you think so? Rose flowing with your chosen family” – the 1, Taylor Swift

60.   “And you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest I’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here ‘Cause I remember it all too well” - All Too Well, Taylor Swift

61.   “Run baby, run Don’t ever look back They’ll tear us apart if they’re given the chance” - Check Yes Juliet, We The Kings

62.   “Does he watch your favourite movies? Does he hold you when you cry? Does he let you tell him all your favourite parts, when you’ve seen it a hundred times? Does he sing to all your music while you dance to Purple Rain? Does he do all these things like we used to?” – Like We Used To, A Rocket To The Moon

63.   “There I go, so dishonestly Leave a note for you, my only one” - Only One, Yellowcard

64.   “Caution, police line, you better not cross! Is it the cop or am I the one who’s really dangerous?” – Warning, Green Day

65.   “You’re not quite Satan but I really think I hate you” – Both Sides of the Story, We Are The In Crowd

66.   “Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends? If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings?” – betty, Taylor Swift

67.   “Nicotine and faded dreams Baby there’s no one else like me” – Say You Like Me, We The Kings

68.   “That smile that made me believe But you were lying through your teeth” – Is She Better, Caitlin Hart

69.   “So every day now, you brace for the sounds you only heard on TV You go to class scared, wondering where the best hiding spot would be” – Only The Young, Taylor Swift

70.   “Soon I’ll have to go I’ll never see him grow But I hope my son will know My love is set in stone” – Heart Of Stone, Six

71.   “Been trying to cover this hear out on my sleeve Been set on playing this down but I think you’re catching onto me” – Lie A Little Better, Lucy Hale

72.   “I used to believe, in the days I was naïve That I’d live to see a day of justice dawn And though, I will die long before that moment comes I’ll die while believing still, it will come when I am gone” – Someday, Hunchback of Notre Dame

73.   “I close my eyes and all I see is you I close my eyes, I try to sleep I can’t forget you” – I’d Do Anything, Simple Plan

74.   “Welcome to a new kind of tension All across the idiot nation Everything isn’t meant to be okay” – American Idiot, Green Day

75.   “Somehow something gave you the nerve to touch my hand It’s nice to have a friend” – It’s Nice To Have a Friend, Taylor Swift

76.   “Stop fucking around with my emotions” – The Irony of Choking On a Lifesaver, All Time Low

77.   “If you can just explain a single thing I’ve done to cause you pain I’ll go” – No Way, Six

78.   “Don’t listen to the voices in your head Listen to your heart” – Listen To Your Heart, The Maine

79.   “If you wanna piss of your parents Date me to scare them Show them you’re all grown up” – 18, Annarbor

80.   “Remember when you broke your foot from jumping out the second floor?” – I’m Not Okay, MCR

81.   “Please leave me stranded It’s so romantic” – New Romantics, Taylor Swift

82.   “Not for us, we made a pact Death meet fear” – Love You Wrong, Sumo Cyco

83.   “Shade never made anybody less gay” – You Need To Calm Down, Taylor Swift

84.   “You push my love away like it’s some kind of loaded gun But you never thought I’d run” – Better Man, Little Big Town

85.   “You’re walking suicide You make me lose my heart and lose my mind” – Loose Cannon, Sumo Cyco

86.   “Every year when October comes around and it gets colder out I grab my favourite hoodie There’s still a hole from when you borrowed it You used to sleep in it ‘cause it reminded you of me” – Nostalgic, Simple Plan

87.   “I will be brave I will not let anything take away what’s standing in front of me” – A Thousand Years, Christina Perri

88.   “But I feel so alive with these phantoms of night And I know that this life isn’t safe but it’s wild and free” – Beautiful Ghosts, Taylor Swift

89.   “Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed” – Paper Rings, Taylor Swift

90.   “It’s nice to know we had it all Thanks for watching as I fall And letting me know we were done” – My Happy Ending, Avril Lavigne

91.   “And do you still think of me when I’m not there? Oh how could I still feel this way after all these years?” – Sleepy Kisses, Candy Hearts

92.   “Jaw breaker, you got the kiss that I wanna savour” – Candy Store, Faber Drive & Ish

93.   “As I walked out on the ledge Are you scared to death to live?” – Still Breathing, Green Day

94.   “Write me off, give up on me Darling, what did you expect? I’m just off, a lost cause, long shot Don’t even take this bet” – A Little Less Sixteen Candles, Fall Out Boy

95.   “Barefoot in the kitchen Sacred new beginnings that became my religion” – Cornelia Street, Taylor Swift

96.   “And I still talk to you When I’m screaming at the sky” – my tears ricochet, Taylor Swift

97.   “Now that I’m losing hope And there’s nothing else to show” – Pressure, Paramore

98.   “And if I open my heart to you Will you show me what to do?” – A Way Back Into Love, Hayley Bennet & Hugh Grant

99.   “Stopped running, started walking instead It was all in my head, nothing’s against me This war was more civil, I realised I had to secede from both sides” – Arrows, Fireworks

100.           “I like when you get mad I guess I’m pretty glad that you’re alone You say she’s scared of me? Well, I don’t see what she sees but maybe it’s ‘cause I’m wearing your cologne.” – Bad Guy, Billie Eilish

[this-is-gonna-hurt]

Day 2: a big bag of crisps and a packet of skittles...

Yup, i’m starting this on my second day of no smoking. And for no good reason either, other than my own painful lack of organisation and ineptitude in regards to actually executing any goals. 

ANYWAY. 

Let’s start with brand. Having been an off and on (but MUCH more on than off) smoker for coming up to 8 years, since not long before my 13th birthday, i’ve smoked a lotta shit. Rarely anything other than tobacco of some kind, mind you. From the most crumb and bark invaded, under the counter bought 50g, £6 pouch of what was allegedly “Amber Leaf”, to 80 Benson and Hedges Blue Superkings per day, i’ve always been happiest with some sort of tobacco product in my back pocket, or even better, hanging outta the corner of my gob. It’s become a part of my makeup as a bearded, overweight 20 year old human. Dumb, right? 

There’s always going to be the argument of ‘it isn’t my fault, my whole family were smokers when i were lad’, a reasonable retort to anyone ironically wheezing in disgust at such a mucus spitting based lifestyle, and in my particular case is very much applicable. I’ve been told many a time of my father smoking sweet sweet Golden Virginia out of our back door in Coventry as a new born, in arms baby. Weird that i ended up a severe asthmatic, eh? Regardless, a few weeks into my return home after being born, all smoking in our household ceased. Days and days i screamed, until father dearest licked the rizla once more and sparked his cheap Nisa plastic lighter, at which point our neighbours could finally sleep, and so could my dear mum as i stopped being such a drama queen and presumably resumed receiving that sweet-ass second hand nicotine rush. 

Onwards though, into today’s antics. I hadn’t been awake 45 minutes before i’d lost my shit and screamed at my multicoloured, oil burning money pit that other people call a 2 decade old Ford Fiesta, to the point of struggling to speak when apologising to the McDonalds car park attendant that’d truly shat his pants when i couldn’t get my ever fulfilling shit pile of a motor vehicle into reverse in order to continue on my way to work after realising the hot, warm steamy latte i’d conjured up in my head was in fact not waiting for my on the other side of the Maccies front door, since they didn’t open until 7am...incidentally the same time i was due to clock in to begin another day of sorting through tenderstem broccoli for slugs n shit. This situation did not sit well with my ever enraging need for nicotine and caffeine, especially after the 2 hours and 12 minutes of sleep i’d accumulated after being up most of the night, stopping myself from grabbing the Amber Leaf 3 in 1 out of my drivers door and going to town on the half pouch of tobacco. 

In reality, i’m nowhere near as much of an ungrateful twat-stain as i sound, the dry sarcasm in almost every word above is just simply needed at times. I’m extremely lucky to be where i am in life, in spite of more than a handful of set backs, shitbox car and all. And more than ever i’m aware the fags need to get kicked for my health, especially not being particularly healthy weight, diet and exercise wise on top the smoking. My mother shouldn’t have to watch me destroy myself in the ways that i’m so so sure will come to fruition if i were to continue on the path i’d comfortably and consciously deep rooted myself upon, all for the sake of a nicotine rush for fuck’s sake. Or even worse, plan a funeral. As dramatic as that may sound, i’m aware of my health otherwise, and i know how i feel within myself, and i’m more than well aware of the poor genetics absolutely yeeted at me from every direction. Not only that, I would in fact like a shot at my career as a musician, and no matter how cool you look in a 3 piece suit with an inch and a half thick Romeo y Julieta cigar hanging outta the right side of your cake hole whilst ripping into a blues solo like a cheetah with Joe Exotics nutsack, smoking ANYTHING as a singer is one of the most irresponsible things that any artist could do. In fact, i’m very much looking forward to experiencing some positive change in the vocal area as more time passes. That’s one of the things i plan on talking about, as its one of the main reasons i’d even considered doing this. There always comes a point when it just isn’t funny anymore and we need to take ourselves seriously. 3 days ago was that day, and i’m looking forward to  seeing what happens in the very near future - mentally, vocally, creatively, physically etc.

RIGHT. It’s time for a cup of tea. It’s fucking well 4.38am and i’ve got a very ironic programme to watch on American barbecue meat smokers. Welcome to my world of complaints, moaning, and hopefully a decently received sarcastic yet positive take on one of the biggest personal humps i’m going to have to drag my very own fat ass over in order to reach such a huge and personally set goal. Positive thoughts...in through the nose, out through the mouth...count to 10... now FUCK OFF!!!

[v-thinks-on]

A Social Visit

Part 2 of Jeeves and the Amateur Cracksman

Previous | Next

“Mr. Manders,” Jeeves announced, waving the aforementioned into the flat.

“What ho!” I exclaimed, jumping up to greet him.

While A.J. Raffles came closer to Jeeves in height, Bunny Manders, though dwarfed by Jeeves and even by myself, upon examination in the light of day, seemed to have some family resemblance in the set of his features that, combined with his youthful appearance, made it easy to believe he was Jeeves’s kid brother or young cousin, not that Jeeves gave any indication they had ever so much as exchanged a passing how-do-you-do.

“Hello,”  Bunny said with a sidelong glance up at Jeeves. “I’m sorry Raffles couldn’t make it, but he told me to convey his regards.”

“Not at all! I’m sure a famous cricketer like him has all sorts of places to be and things to go to and what not. Tell him I say, ‘What ho!’”

I waved it off genially enough, but I confess I was more than a tad disappointed that I didn’t get the chance to rub elbows with the acclaimed A.J. Raffles. Still, we Woosters are nothing if not gracious hosts, and if I was to be entrusted with his pal Bunny, then it was the least I could do.

I waved Bunny into the sitting room. “Have a seat, make yourself at home! Jeeves, drinks all around, what?”

“Sir?”

Jeeves had drifted over to fiddle with the window while I had been preoccupied with our guest, but now he resumed his place at attention. Jeeves had been on the frosty side for the past couple days - I couldn’t say why, having thoroughly rearranged the wardrobe, I had just about ascertained it didn’t have anything to do with my costume - and now was no different.

Bunny jumped a little at his sudden appearance, clearly unaccustomed to how Jeeves has a way of flickering in and out of the presence rather than walking like any ordinary fellow.

“Care to join us for a spot?” I asked. “Bunny’s your cousin after all.”

“That is very kind, sir, but Mr. Manders is your guest.”

I shrugged - that’s the only thing to do when the man is in such a state, though there was something in his tone that grated more than a little. “Have it your way, Jeeves.”

While Jeeves biffed off to prepare the drinks, I turned my attention to playing the gregarious host. “Lovely afternoon, what?”

Bunny tore his eyes away from Jeeves. “Oh, yes, it is, isn’t it?”

“Do you play cricket?”

“No, not really. Do you?”

“Hardly - I’ve never gone in for sports myself except for a touch of golf or tennis. I did try rowing once, but it didn’t last long. The coach, an old pal of mine, Stilton Cheesewright, was a real terror; I’ve never stood so much rapid fire abuse. But I throw a mean dart. My club, the Drones, has a competition every year and I would be a shoe-in if not for Horace Pendlebury-Davenport!”

“Really?” Bunny said, with the air of a man who had gotten rather lost along the way.

I was about to endeavor to explain when Jeeves shimmered over with a pair of glasses.

Bunny leaped like he had been stuck with a pin, nearly knocking the proffered glass out of Jeeves’s hand. For a moment, he just sat there, looking like a chap who had just seen a ghost, which I supposed wasn’t such a strange response to Jeeves appearing and disappearing like a genie out of a lamp, especially not for a fellow called Bunny. I’d only just grown accustomed to the man’s mysterious ways myself.

Finally, Bunny took the glass, though he kept an eye on Jeeves, as though he expected him to vanish into thin air at any moment, which I could have told him was sure to happen sooner or later.

“I don’t suppose you could walk a little louder, Jeeves? Tie a bell around your wrist or somesuch?” I suggested.

“I will endeavor to make my presence known, sir.”

You may know that Jeeves sometimes takes on an expression, or rather a lack of expression, altogether reminiscent of a stuffed frog or other such specimen, typically when he’s present and wants to give the impression of not being so. There’s something of a wax statue in the chap, absolutely silent with no presence at all. Well, I’ll tell you that Jeeves could have passed for a stuffed Jeeves then. I reflexively glanced down at my raiment, but as far as I could tell, there was nothing offensive in the lot, and it’s unusual for Jeeves to stay silent on such matters.

When I glanced back up, he was gone.

Bunny and I sipped at our drinks in a companionable silence for a tick or two before I remembered; “Say, you grew up with Jeeves, didn’t you?”

Bunny hesitated on the reply. “Yes... You could say that.”

“Has he always been like this?”

“I suppose so... How do you mean?”

“Oh, all brainy and whatnot. Ate a lot of fish, I expect.”

Bunny seemed to take a moment to process the question. “I don’t think we ever had fish,” he said at last. “But he’s always been intelligent, just like Raffles. I was the only- well, compared to them...” he struggled with the words.

“Oh, rather! I mean, you should hear my Aunt Dahlia - or worse, my Aunt Agatha - talking about how much of a lost cause I am, negligible intelligence, waste of space, you’d think I’d run away to live a life of crime the way they put it. I’m just lucky my cousins Claude and Eustace are worse. I couldn’t imagine what it’d be like if they had a real paragon like Jeeves to compare me with.”

“It’s not much of a comparison.”

I gave a sad shake of my head. “No, and I couldn’t tell you why he’s stuck around as long as he has. I would’ve thought he’d have left as soon as another posish. opened up, but he’s still here biffing around.”

“You don’t know why he’s working for you?” Bunny asked, sounding truly intrigued for the first time since he arrived.

“Not a clue. Did he always want to be a valet? With a brain like his, he could give Sherlock Holmes a run for his money. I assumed he went in to support his family and what not, but that was before I knew he was related to a fellow like A.J. Raffles, though really I should have known Jeeves couldn’t just be any ordinary chap.”

Bunny nodded thoughtfully at the comparison. “No, I wondered why he went into service. He did stay and help when the rest of us went our separate ways, but-”

Jeeves gave a quiet cough, like a polite sheep on a distant mountaintop, to announce his presence - Bunny jumped at the sudden interjection, but not nearly as much as before. “I could not help but overhear, sir - if I may.”

“Do enlighten us, Jeeves. Why did you decide to become a valet?”

“Life is too short, sir. To spend that shortness basely were too long.”

“Well, there you have it,” I declared, though I wasn’t at all sure what it was that I had.

Bunny frowned, seemingly intent upon deciphering it himself as Jeeves shimmered off.

Our conversation wandered off to other subjects until Bunny made his excuses and got up to leave. I followed him to the door, still expounding on whatever the latest topic was.

Jeeves coughed softly to announce his presence as he brought in Bunny’s jacket. He gave the jacket to Bunny and then took a step toward me.

“Sir, I took the liberty of liberating your cigarette case from Mr. Manders’s jacket pocket.” He held out the now unfettered case.

“I can explain!” Bunny burst out, looking rather like his namesake, as he glanced nervously between Jeeves and myself - mostly looking at Jeeves, to tell the truth.

“Another one of your pranks?” I asked - nothing else seemed to make sense.

He rather jumped on it. “Yes! It’s a competition. We’ve always tried taking things from each other, and, well, since Raffles failed, I had to try.”

The scales seemed to fall from my eyes, if you get my meaning. “Jeeves, I never would have expected you playing a game like this. Do you try to steal things too?”

“No, sir,” Jeeves said with some disdain.

“But you did?”

“Well-” Bunny attempted.

“I have not in many years, sir.”

I could nearly imagine it, Jeeves in miniature and all his cousins sneaking around an old manor house in the dead of night, trying to get away with a toy or book in a clandestine game of cops and robbers. I only wished I’d thought of it in my formative years.

“I say, Jeeves, you’re full of surprises! And Bunny, you’re welcome ‘round any time, though I’d rather you didn’t run off with my cigarette case.” I took a cigarette out for good measure. “I’m sure we can find you something else - I wouldn’t want to break a family tradition.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Bunny stammered, still looking rather beet-like.

“Anything for a chum. I have an old cigar box I never use, if you like.”

I had been hoping to get the bally thing off my hands ever since my engagement with the girl who gave it to me ended, but Bunny was having none of it, and so I dropped the case, or box as it were.

“I really must be going,” he insisted.

So, I bid him, “Toodle-pip!” and saw him on his way.

“A very amiable chap,” I proclaimed as I meandered back into the sitting room.

I had a mind to settle on the sofa and return to the tale of suspense I had been reading earlier that afternoon - they were just about to discover the second body - when I noticed that Jeeves had materialized by the window and was peering down into the street below.

“Something catch your eye, what? I hope we didn’t send Bunny straight into the fray.”

“Not exactly, sir.”

I meandered over to the window to see what it was Jeeves was making such a fuss about - by Jeevesian standards at least - but his powers of perception must have been much greater than mine if he saw anything more than Bunny making his way around the square.

“It’s a nice day for a stroll, but nothing to write home about,” I remarked.

“I was merely observing the unkempt gentleman with a pronounced limp following Mr. Manders.”

“Oh!” I spotted the fellow, sure enough trailing a bit behind Bunny, but gaining ground despite his awkward gait. “Do you think Bunny’s in trouble?”

“I expect not, sir.”

“If you’re sure, Jeeves.”

“Quite confident, sir.”

“Right-o, then!”

I tossed myself down on the sofa and not a few moments later Jeeves rippled in with the tea.

Part of The Mysterious Mr. Jeeves

[final-fantasy-mama]

Licorice Twists and Cinnamon Buns

''FFXIV: Emet Selch X Wol Licorice twists and cinnamon buns This is drabble for now but I do have a plot planned for future chapters. First part is fluff, second part is a bit angsty. Enjoy! ********************************************************************************

(Very sorry for any spelling mistakes, I don’t have a spell checker and have to edit manually so I miss many mistakes)

It wasn't often that the Warrior of Light got time to herself for anything. Most days were spent tending to battle wounds, civilian requests and the ever growing demands of her scion brethren but today was special. Today she had a full day all to herself and should she decide to rest, she could roost in bed till the chocobos came home. But she was a restless soul and having that much free time made her a bit antsy. So she wore her best casual clothes, a off shoulder sun dress and sandals, and made for the Musica Universalis for a small walk about. And as always, following closely in her shadows was her ever sneaky and equally snarky ascian companion, Emet Selch.

He had often spied in on her whenever it suited his fancy though she was quick to catch on to his Aether trail, making any chances of sneaking up on her null and void. If he kept his distance enough she couldn’t distinguish his presence from the multitudes of others within the crystarium which was the only opportunity he had to observe her habits and actions unabieted. He wasn’t really one to take too much of an interest in anyone or anything outside his devotions to Zodiark but he had to admit this one Hyur Female caught his undivided attention. 

She was pretty in a simple way, with features that could have easily passed for Garlean if it weren’t for her height. Not that Emet Selch placed much value on physical appearances outside of his own. And she was strong, oh so strong and noble in a un nauseating way. She never spouted nonsense of high ideals and morality, was pragmatic, straightforward and witty.

Now he watched her walk through the crystarium, stopping now and then to look at what bits and baubles surrounded her, her head tilting to one side as she studied everything with a keen eye only a warrior could possess. He watched from the shadows of a nearby pillar how her eyes lit up while she looked at a merchants jewelry stall, picking up a necklace and holding it to her chest while staring in the mirror afforded to her by the vendor. 

All women were wanton creatures for fine jewels and furs. Oh how he could give her all that and more were she his woman. What a empress she would have made with her proud face and feminine features but he didnt know her back then and avoided all contact with her or her shards on the other stars.  She was a poor sundered creature after all, albiet a charming one, and he didn’t need any more misery in his immortality then what was already afforded to him. If she had any clue just how far back her shards and former selves went, who and what she was, she kept it keenly to herself. He wondered just how much she did know. She never really talked about her memories short of what was absolutely necessary.

She struggled with the clasp of the necklace and just when he was about to step in to do it for her, a certain other man did it instead. The crystal exarch was making his rounds through town. Emet Selch gritted his teeth as her eyes turned to the cowled man and truly sparkled, her red lips spreading into a wide smile as she thanked him. They made casual banter with each other, each laughing and smiling as they walked away, her hand holding his arm in a way that was too intimate for the ascians liking.

That slick conniving whelp of a man! Emet sneered as he followed them in the shadows. Look how she touches him so casually, like 2 fools in love! What can this creature offer a warrior like her? By what magic did he bring her here and dare to speak to her so fondly! He stopped his train of thoughts and held his breath. He had seen this scene before oh so many millenia ago when the hero had been alive in Amarout. But it was a memory Emet did not want to remember and he quickly pushed it out of his mind.

The hero and the exarch stopped at a small candy shop and the hero exclaimed how she hadn’t sampled some of the confections since her childhood. She filled a small paper bag with her favorites and vowed to share it with her child when they reunited. Her daughter, only 8 years of age, and the only family she had in the source. Surely that child must have looked like her mother. Emet could see it as surely as his own children took after his late wife. Oh those long lost days when he had some small measure of happiness but lives came and went so quickly and thus his happiness was only temporary if not fleeting.

The couple moved on, once again arm in arm, their happy voices talking of frivolous things. The Hero leaning in and squeezing her shoulder into the exarchs as he hid his head shyly in his hood. In fact she seemed to go out of her way to make any sort of physical contact with her partner weather it was a touch of the hands, squeezing his arm tightly against her chest in a flirtatious manner or leaning in so her forehead was almost against the exarch. The shy Exarch laughing nervously but accepting her little showers of affections non the less. It made Emet suspicious. 

It would seem those two have a history with each other....how interesting. He clenched his fists at his sides tightly. She is obvious in her affections for him but he tries to hide how much she affects him. Ah, the exarch is hiding his identity but she already knows......then that would mean the exarch is not a native of the 1st and they both hailed from the source....by what means did he arrive her and manage to bring her as well?

When the couples time came to part, the exarch kissed the fair ladies hand and waved goodbye as she watched him go, once again left to her own devices in the market place. She did not move from her spot as he dissappeared from view and Emet used that chance to sneak up behind her, or at least try. She knew he was coming a mile away.

"Shopping for a swanking new coat Emet?" She asked as she turned to him and gave him her usual coy look.

"Shopping for a new lover?" He shot back and jutted his chin in the direction the exarch had left.

The hero smiled something sly and admitted easily. "Mmmm Hmmmm. That man is a cinnamon roll and I just want to bite right into him."

"So that's your type." The ascian said dryly. 

"And you, you sneaky bastard." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "Are Black Licorice."

"Licorice!?" He asked in surprise.

The hero reached into her paper bag and pulled out a black twig of candy, holding it up this face before saying, "They make it, so someone must love to eat it but most people want to spit it out after one bite!"

He pursed his lips as he stared down at the feisty lady who so defiantly waved her candy in his face and for once in his immortal life, he was speechless. He wasn’t sure if he should get angry or laugh. Her barbs at him were easily becoming legendary.

She didn’t wait for him to answer before taking a hearty bite out of the black candy. "Lucky for you I have acquired a taste for Licorice." and gave him her oh so sweet smile which meant both good things and dangerous things. He had to smile back and she noted how soft his face was when he was happy. He almost looked kind when he was like that as opposed to his usual grumpy self.

"Zodiark’s mercy hero, are you admitting you're in love with me?" He drawled out and held his hand to his heart.

"Hydaelyn’s blessing Emet Selch, You're such a drama king." She shot back and turned to walk away. "Lets see its just past 2....its a good time to break for tea. Join me if you dare."

"Bothering you is the only thing I have to look forward to in my day." He admitted and followed after her. **************************************** They both seated themselves at a small table within the atrium next to the market and ordered a few plates of cheeses and meats along with some pastries. The hero poured tea into two saucers and slid one over to him as she sat down in a wooden chair and fanned herself with the menu. 

"How do you survive in the Jacket? Its bloody hot out here." She complained.

"Is that your way of asking me to take it off?" He wiggled his brows at her and sipped his tea oh so properly like the blue blood he was.

She laughed. "Actually I am curious what’s under all that, I won’t lie."

He quickly unbuckled the front and in a dramatic flourish, stood up and swept if off his shoulders as he placed it on the back of his chair. The undershirt he wore was a plain white cotton one with a few buttons down the chest and loose sleeves.

"If you ask politely I may take off even more." He purred and She nearly spat out her tea.

"Woah their partner, you need to leave something to my imagination." She smirked and took a long sip of tea before reaching into her blouse and producing a small metal case from her brasier. She opened it up with a click and pulled a small cigarillo from it, put it to her lips and lit it with the small lighter. She took a long drag and offered one to her company.

Emet shook his head lightly. "A habit you picked up adventuring?"

"A habit I picked up from one of my "others" who was a middle aged drunk whiskey lover, smoked like a chimney and ate bacon like pork was going out of season." She laughed.

When She fumbled with her cigar case a piece of paper fell out. It was a small photo of some sort of a small child with dark brown hair and a cherubs smile, riding on the back of a tall elezen male with light blue hair and a equally charming smile. If he didn’t know any better he would have said this was a family photo but the child looked nothing like that man in the photo so he knew instantly the she wasn’t his

. "Your daughter and....?" He asked.

"Haurchefant Greystone, one of my dearest friends. He passed away a few years ago." She sipped her tea. "He had a way with children and my daughter fell in love with him. She said that If I didn’t marry him then she would." The small smile on her face spoke volumes of her feelings for this man.

"At first all the adventuring was just to secure some money for myself and my daughter....and then I was discovered by the scions....I suppose the rest after that was just cause and effect or the results of being the warrior of light." she shrugged and tucked the photo away. “After an attempted assassination on the Sultana of Ul Dahl, myself and the scions had to go into hiding. So I took my daughter with me to Ishgard where we parlayed for our protection. Haurchefant was the first to extend any hospitality to us and took care of us. He was really a wonderful friend.” She said fondly.

“You were in love with him.” Emet stated and she couldn’t deny it.

“I suppose I was. But his life was cut short and after that there was no one else, I never even bothered looking or trying.” she admitted sadly.

The Ascian looked at the hero carefully, noting how sad her eyes looked in that moment. She was lonely even though she would never admit it, using her duty with the scions as an excuse to fill her time. For one small moment, Emet saw something else as he looked at her, the ghost of another who’s face was equally sad but always had a small smile on her lips. He blinked the apparition away.

"Your child is what grounds you to this reality. You would fight and die for her." Emet said matter of factly. It was a universal fact that a mother protecting her young was the fiercest thing in the cosmos, something he had witnessed first hand so long ago. This will to protect is exactly what brought about Hydaelyn to begin with. In all these years, after all these rebirths and in all her incarnations, that one truth never changed, she would protect those near and dearest to her even if it meant tearing the universe apart. her child was the source of her power.

The uncomfortable reality that the child would die in the grand plan of the ascians was not lost on the hero or him. It was a unspoken truth that would always be the catalyst of her never ending battles with all her enemies and him. As cordial as the two were with each other, the fact that at the end of the day one or the other was going to be destroyed was not ever going to change.

  The hero stared up at the glass ceiling and finished off her cigarillo, putting it out in the small ashtray on the table. Her heart felt heavy thinking of the future, of his and hers but it wasn’t something she could express in words, its just the nature of her being Hydaelyn’s blessed and him beings Zodiark’s Tempered. When she turned her head to him it was obvious he had been thinking the exact same thing.

"Oh hero, don’t look at me like that." He cooed in a oh so sweet voice. "All is not lost yet, there is still time to change my mind. If you can accomplish the impossible then even I will be forced to throw my lot in with you. We Ascians don’t wish for our own destruction you know."

The hero cleared her throat and swallowed back her feelings, replacing it with a smile. "What a pair we make, Architect." 

"Oh yes, the warrior of light and her arch enemy sitting together drinking tea. What is this universe coming to?"

"Shite apparently."  She laughed.

"I'll drink to that." Emet agreed and they clinked glasses.

“So what’s next on our agenda?”

“101 ways to destroy the world.” He replied dryly.

She gawked at him. “Not funny!”

“You’re still laughing on the inside.”

She shoved a big piece of cake into her mouth and said in a muffled voice. “I laugh only so I don’t cry.”

He reached over a caught a dollop of frosting from the corner of her mouth then licked it off his white gloves slowly and deliberately.

She blinked twice. “Oh that was smooth.”

“Full glad am I to hear that.” He purred.

“Have you made it your personal mission to seduce me?” She squinted at him.

“Seeing as you get flustered when a man expresses desire for you, I’ve made it my mission to make you as uncomfortable as possible from here on out.” He admitted.

“Flustered?!” You gasped and that made him chuckle.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve hero.”

“I’ll wear a mask then.” She said suddenly and it made him stop. He watched her for a second before turning back to his tea.

He looked down into the brown water. “A thousand masks for a thousand desires.” He said off handedly.

She watched him carefully but didn’t quite grasp his meaning, something about it though made her heart feel strange. A small moment of recognition and longing. For him? For this ascian drinking tea with her? Surely not, but maybe just maybe for the man Emet Selch had been.

(I wasn’t sure how to end this so i abruptly did before it prattled on again. Next chapter will be main story driven and have more character development for Emet. Its just fun to write fluff for characters who are notoriously not fluffy lol)

[theliterateape]

5 SHORT POEMS

1) Playing the Ponies

 These new friends don’t understand

they secretly think me naive, foolish even

don’t I grasp what this friendship is?

we’re not sharing popsicles,

horsing around or chasing chicks here

there’s deals to cut

introductions to be made

favors to swap

like we’re all just sheister betters

groomed to run around an endless loop

 We just band together now

the business of relationships

it’s not even questioned

as the world gets more and more global

people grow more and more insular

shrinking affection by night

and playing the ponies by day

  2) Over Forever

 It’s often the case

that times you lived were

not the black nightmare of despair

and misery you thought they were

when looking behind your shoulder

in the rearview mirror now

there is no wreckage

all the dramas and fights

the broken up relationships, the battles

down to the smallest, most innocuos thing

that needled you back then

they’re gone

a super human cleaning crew came in the night

while you slept your way into ten or twenty years later

and they shoveled all that debris away

if you’re lucky, the crew was so dilligent

that with it they carted off the nasty residue

the grudges and ground axes

for who knows how long

and the way is now smooth behind you,

like road well traveled

you can take a breath where you are

light a blue cigar and wrinkle your eyes

into an open skyline

and see deeply into

the portal of time

and touch, slightly

the heart of a moment

lived long ago

and feel it clean,

no stakes

only soft,

fragile

and

over forever 

 3) Musical Chairs

Some men never come back

and some never went anywhere to come back from

but to those dropped into a nosedive

left bereft

broken

and dismissed

the love was never constant

that is the one consolation

it will flatline

leaving crumpled newspapers

frittered memories

and half-eaten sandwich crusts

 Some force soon after takes up under your legs

and helps you walk off the old hurts

nursing the wounds to a dull throb

and the front door to your inner palace opens again

out you step

back into the same cold world that threw you out

 The musical chairs start up again

of which you are always a part, like it or not

the biggest surprise is this:

you were one woman’s low and she let you drop

soon there is a brand new woman you met at the park

or the hospital, or even a party you got dragged to

and where she last stopped is where you start

the burning song in you captures her ear

and speaks to it

she learns from you, where you have been

and it draws her near

you don’t wince at this, you marvel

at the infinite combinations of man and women and harmony and sex

the places we find ourselves, and who we are seated next to

at different moments

in these musical chairs

 4) Blue ‘Trane

 I listened to Coltrane today

as a reminder

that a man and his horn can

gurgle up

from a depth not spoken

in polite conversation

 the bile and depravity

of inner turmoil

and without pause

 face this

spasm of

rummaging, discordant states

touch it

with grace

and rise up,

 blowing

notes of

clarity

in fresh, full moon air 

over virulent blue waters

 shrieks of hysterical relief

die down and

settle into radiant,

belly-warm tones

 rich tracks made

by pale white horse

in dark lowland

of desert night

 there rides

the blue ‘Trane

 5) Forward

It’s time to stay away

from the flash in the pan stuff

this very early morning

the sky curdles a cobalt-grey

breaks open into blue

timelessness

the planets orbit in no rush

miles plays his trumpet softly

on the radio

there is the burning down

of yesterday

an invisible current

carries me ahead

the old hurts will now

have a chance to

Heal

with some distance

the merciful

New

has a clear space to come in

to take my hand and hold it awhile

like a sweet lover would

this is not about hope

I tell you it’s the beat

I hear it

follow it,

like warm blinking lights up ahead

beckon me

Forward

[mcmedianoche]

“La Oscuridad Te Espera” (Chapter 2) - Sombra/McCree

McCree gently lifts Sombra’s chin with his metal-fire hand and takes his cigar back with the other, his deep honey-brown eyes roving all over her face and well-fit leather clothing. He stops at her white-gold irises and sighs, “Sure is a shame I don’t flirt with demons.”

“Sure is lucky that I’m not a demon,” Sombra replies, her heart suddenly thumping in her chest at his touch.

“So. Your employer’s workin’ with mine.” McCree is first to break the heavy silence between them on their short journey to Shimada Castle. The road has not yet cleared, but Sombra walks in plain sight; she has already vetted this crowd, and the only locals remaining are the sort who either won’t find her alarming or wouldn’t say anything even if they did. There are always a few on these cases. Demons aren’t the only beings who enjoy the shadows.

This is her second night here, but her first approaching the castle. She knows that the demons infesting the estate will sense another living being the moment they step on the property, and a being with her particular energy would draw too much attention before she’s ready. They have to be smart about this.

“Aw, look at you, playing detective,” she replies in as bored a voice as she can. This question has plagued her since they left the tavern, but McCree doesn’t need to know that. She’ll let him supply what he knows.

“Both of us, here, hired to do this now? Splittin’ the targets? That’s awful convenient, don’t you think?”

“I would call it ‘efficient.’” The split targets are the key. The banshee has a lot of enemies, but even so, she’s good at removing her emotions from a situation, if she has any left. When a pragmatic solution exists, she will take it, unless there’s room to entertain her morbid curiosity.

McCree lights a fresh cigar. “You’re not wrong.”

“Of course not.”

His brow flattens as he gives her an exasperated look, cigar smoke puffing ominously around his face in the moonlight. Sombra just presses her lips together to keep from snickering.

“Well then, ya cocky little shit--”

“Ah, mira --” she says, stopping in her tracks to point at herself. “Gorgeous, cocky little shit, remember?”

McCree’s lips tighten around his cigar, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

Sombra lets herself laugh out loud this time, plucking the cigar from his mouth to take a puff of her own. “Sending us here at the same time guarantees that we’ll get this done with no loose ends, and since they didn’t pit us against each other with the same target, we know it’s not a trap. Easy in, easy out.” She sucks on the cigar again and blows the smoke out of the corner of her mouth. “You’re taking this very seriously.”

McCree’s smile cracks in full, with nothing to hide behind. He gently lifts Sombra’s chin with his metal-fire hand and takes his cigar back with the other, his deep honey-brown eyes roving all over her face and well-fit leather clothing. He stops at her white-gold irises and sighs, “Sure is a shame I don’t flirt with demons.”

“Sure is lucky that I’m not a demon,” Sombra replies, her heart suddenly thumping in her chest at his touch. The prosthetic is somehow soothingly cool on the metal parts and pleasantly hot with the fire, setting off a strange tingle in her skin. This isn’t a mortal creation.

She takes advantage of his stunned silence to place her hand over his and press her cheek further into his touch, chasing that tingle. “Who made this?”

“My boss. I’d already been hunting demons, but it helps with work, sort of focuses whatever sensitivity I have to magic. And I needed a new arm, besides,” he answers, his attention zeroing in on the way her warm skin and eyes glow brighter against his hand. He grazes a metal thumb across her bottom lip and down her chin, propriety forgotten in this moment of discovery. “What are you?”

It takes all of her considerable self-control not to move. She knows the sweet, welcoming flavor of this magic, or at least, has felt something similar before. Now she knows why he’s here. “The Witch of the Wilds sent you, didn’t she?”

McCree nods.

“She sent you here to kill Hanzo,” Sombra continues, the pieces finally slotting together in her head, “because he’s hurting her precious Genji. She brought that demon back to life because she loved him too much to let him go. But… Moira sent me here to kill him. What, is Mercy putting him out of his misery?”

McCree’s eyes darken at that. “You work for the banshee? The Witch of the Wind? There’s always some kinda catch with her, Sombra. What were her exact words? What did she ask you to do?”

Sombra said it herself: Genji was a charmer. But demons are charmers, too. It hadn’t occurred to her that they wouldn’t be one in the same. Demons play the long game, some born as human-looking beings, living human-looking lives, amassing human family and friends, building a pool of human energy, until they bloom into their true selves, powerful and deadly, and devour everyone around them. But something about this isn't right. She hates this feeling, knowing a crucial detail has slipped through her fingers. “Moira collects demon souls for her magic. She wants the oni. Removing a demon’s soul from their body is the same as killing them… unless…”

“...unless that body wasn’t theirs to begin with.”

Sombra’s stomach sinks. She knows what McCree is about to say. Damn it, she really should have demanded higher payment.

He shakes his head, looking as disgruntled as she feels. “Shit. This ain’t a hunt, Sombra. It’s an exorcism.”

*

Shimada Castle forms an imposing silhouette at the edge of Hanamura. The few businesses just outside its outer wall have been empty for some time now. The mortals who toy with darkness a little farther from the property maintain a safe distance; it is true that those who go near this place are lost. Sombra knows that some have tried, have scaled the gate at the front entrance on a dare, or were simply curious, but the oni inside -- or, the possessed Shimada -- simply killed them and ate their souls.

“A demon infesting the body of a trained assassin. Fan-fuckin’-tastic,” McCree mutters, staring up at the front gate.

“Two. I thought Ichika had been fooled when she said they both used to be mortals. What are the odds Hanzo is a true oni?”

He grumbles, annoyed. “The oni couldn’t have picked the local sushi master or something?”

Sombra snickers and puts a silver claw under his chin, scratching gently. “Aw, are you scared? Pobrecito. I’ll protect you.”

McCree looks like he’s about to swat her away, but thinks better of it, taking hold of her gloved hand instead. “You never answered my question.”

“Well, obviously, the oni wanted someone with power and influence. A sushi master would have brought in lots of people, but--”

He takes her glove off. Tendrils of purple energy stretch from Sombra’s fingertips, then disappear into the air. McCree flexes his metal-fire hand around her wrist, staring down at it curiously before he looks into her glowing eyes again. “I felt that. You know which question I’m talking about.”

Sombra considers that question for a moment. She certainly won’t have time to discuss it once they’re inside the Shimada gates. Exorcisms are messy and there is no way around that, but if they both survive the encounter,  then they’ll go their separate ways when the job is done.

The thought disturbs her, and she isn’t sure why.

Sombra looks at her bare hand, and at McCree’s hand around her wrist, then stretches her fingers.

McCree’s mouth drops open as his hand mimics hers, opening with splayed fingers as if it’s going to wave. He tries to move it himself and can’t. Nerves deepen the lines of his face at this sudden lack of control, but comprehension softens them again. “You’re a witch.”

Sombra says nothing.

“But… your eyes. Is that from black magic? Mercy’s not like this.”

“Mercy is a hypocrite,” Sombra snorts, rolling her eyes. “There’s no such thing as black magic or white magic. Magic is magic. The only thing that separates her approach from mine, or from Moira’s, is fear. Magic takes all forms and comes from all kinds of places.”

“Like from demons, for example?”

Sombra stares into his eyes, white-gold meeting honey, and intertwines their stretched fingers. As it did before, the contact sparks something warm and inviting under her skin. She focuses on him, trying to communicate her magic and everything that it is to whatever’s inside him that makes him so sensitive to that energy.

“Does that feel demonic to you, McCree?”

He shakes his head and squeezes her hand. “That feels amazing.”

“That’s power. Mercy will tell you her specialty is life magic, but what she fails to mention is that life magic and death magic go hand in hand. They can’t exist separately. People are cowards, and nobody wants to hear the words ‘death magic’ when it comes time to ask for it. But we’re here because another witch, a necromancer , got caught in her feelings playing with life and death and it backfired.”

She hasn’t influenced McCree to keep hold of her hand, but he’s doing it.

“Feelings ain’t as dangerous as you make them out to be.”

Sombra laughs in disbelief. “Everything I just said, and that’s all you got from it? You’re so sentimental.”

McCree shrugs. “And you’re defensive. It’s like you said. Only thing that separates people is fear.”

For one brief, terrifying moment, something surges between them, tipping the fiery surface of McCree’s hand from enticingly warm to just this side of too hot against Sombra’s skin. She sucks in a breath and lets go.

“Ugh. Mercy’s magic is so… affectionate. It’s coming off you like perfume that’s too sweet..“

A slow smile spreads across McCree’s face. “Oh, that’s what you’re feeling. Mercy’s magic.”

“Of course.” Sombra snatches her glove back from him and puts it on. “It makes me sick.”

“Hmm. Does it, now.”

“Si,” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t be stupid.”

McCree raises his eyebrows thoughtfully. “I’ll try,” he says, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “But if you’re so smart, you might wanna figure out why I feel the exact same thing comin’ from you , darlin.’”

He has the audacity to wink at her.

Sombra fights down an instinctive retort -- and that tumbling in her gut -- and watches him walk towards the gate. She doesn’t even know what she would have said to that, which is yet another feeling she hates.

McCree looks up at the castle and pulls his crossbow from its holster on his back. “This won’t be easy,” he sighs. “A little extra firepower goes a long way, so, if it makes you feel any better, I’m happy to have you by my side. For this job.”

“For this job,” she echoes softly, taking a deep breath as she readies her gun and tries to push his words from her mind. This is no time to be weak. She needs to focus.

“Now, whip out whatever spells you got up your sleeve. We got work to do.” He looks back at her and jerks his head at the dragons carved into the gate. “I’m ready if you are.”