#WHOEVER WAS IN CHARGE OF VOICE DIRECTING DID AND EXCELLENT JOB

[midnightwerewoolf]

I really like the way Ramona was portrayed, I loved seeing Knives getting so much justice and gaining a healthier relationship with the older characters in comparison to the comics, I love the exes interactions with Ramona.

But even more importantly...

Him.

As always, all my praises go to the gay man ever. Slay you magnificent king.

[burnedbyshoto]

for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war. 

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again. 

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do. 

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck. 

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good. 

.

.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

.

.

.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation. 

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours. 

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals. 

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor. 

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that. 

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

.

.

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath. 

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

.

.

.

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like. 

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day. 

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave. 

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

.

.

.

.

.

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

[britishassistant]

Crowley kid! Yuu gets kidnapped by one of the villain dorms and Crowley is touring the the lair and just come across his kid, just chilling their designated chair snacking and roasting the villains, maybe joking around with the minions a bit and then they see each other and it’s like that Spider-Man pointing meme

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

This kiiinda got away from me a bit, but I thought it would be good since this blog has now reached over 200 followers! Whoo! Thank you all for your support!!

Crowley was just popping by to see how Leviathan’s operation was running.

He liked to do this kind of thing, show up when the supervillains competing for his attention least expected (or appreciated) it and demand they show him how their operations were running. The reactions and sights he got to see where always so much more honest than what a prearranged visit could offer him.

Take Leviathan-kun, for instance.

The young man is uncommonly nervous in Crowley’s presence, not quite stuttering, but clearly not far off from it either. He keeps adjusting his glasses minutely, making the light flash off them even as he rattles out his salesman’s spiel of guarantees and flattery.

The thieving corvid inside Crowley preens. Today was an excellent day for a surprise inspection.

There’s clearly something going on right now that Leviathan was desperate to hide from him, which just makes Crowley want to dig deep and uncover whatever this dirty little secret is and drag that wriggling, struggling weakness into the light.

Great Seven, he loves his job.

It doesn’t take long for him to ferret it out—as desperate as Leviathan is to redirect his attention the loyal minions moving like schools of fish through the lower levels of the lair, he doesn’t have the authority to do anything but totter after Crowley as he strides towards the control room of this fine establishment, his cane clicking against the ground with every step.

Great Seven, he loves his job.

There’s the raised voices of Leviathan’s lieutenants emanating from within, along with...someone else?

Crowley pauses, taking in the scene inside.

There is a person is tied to a chair in the center of the room with one of the Leeches hanging sideways off of their lap, arms wrapped around their shoulders as he leans backwards and swings his legs back and forth. The chair is beginning to teeter dangerously.

“Floyd, if you make us fall again, I’m suing you for damages.” A familiar voice quips.

Crowley’s insides go cold.

“Aha! So mean~ I’d never let you get hurt, Shrimpy~” The reckless and violent twin coos, nuzzling close.

“You already did.” The most kidnapped reporter in this city deadpans. “Twice.”

“Bold of you to assume that you’d be able to press charges in the first place, Yuu-san.” The sadistic and coldblooded twin grins.

“Azul likes me better than you two, he’ll represent me if I sell him my kidneys.” Yuu says loftily. “Plus I have witnesses, like that guy...there...”

Well, that’s ruined his dramatic entrance, but Crowley slams open the doors anyway, making his cloak billow and letting those leeches see the angry flash of his eyes.

“A-hem!” He booms. “What exactly do you think you’re doing? Is this how you think professional villains behave?!”

The sadistic twin stands to attention, bowing shallowly to him, as though that will keep Crowley from noticing how he’s moved in front of the hostage and his violent brother, who’s curled over Yuu with his feet planted firmly on the ground and is cocky enough to think baring his teeth at Crowley is somehow a good idea.

“Floyd.” Leviathan’s voice is clipped, moving towards his henchman and the captive. “My deepest apologies on behalf of my staff, sir. I’ll instruct them to take the prisoner back down to the holding cells to continue the inter—”

“No, you will not.” Crowley commands, swirling towards the aquatic supervillain. “You will release them from your custody immediately, and as I am so gracious, I will be sure to educate all of you about how violating personal boundaries—”

“Oh, come off it, you old crow.” Yuu drawls, one eyebrow twitching. “Don’t start pretending like you care now.”

The sadistic brother makes a small, choked noise. Leviathan has gone so still it’s doubtful he’s even breathing. Even the violent twin is staring at the reporter like they’ve grown a second head.

He clears his throat to hide the small sting in his chest at the remark. “W-why I don’t know whatever you are talking about, stranger I have never met before. I will arrange for an escort to guide you home, as I am so gracious.”

The reporter scoffs. “Well, isn’t that just the story of my life. I told you last time, I don’t want any of your goons within ten blocks of my apartment, remember?”

“Yuu, while I always appreciate your sparkling wit, please stop talking.” Leviathan mutters, eyes focused on Crowley. “Are you aware of just who this person is?”

“Who he is? Of course I know who he is.” Yuu’s exasperation is evident in their voice. “He’s my bio dad.”

Crowley bristles, feeling his feathers puff up in alarm. “Hatchling!!”

Leviathan chokes, wheezing for air as he gasps out, “Bio—what—?”

The sadistic Leech brother is visibly startled, whipping his head back and forth between Crowley and Yuu, lips moving too fast to read though no sound comes out.

“Eeeh~? The big scary boss man is Shrimpy’s dad? No waay~” The violent Leech brother jabs a thumb in his direction. “Who would fuck him?”

“HOW DARE YOU—!”

“Nobody.” Yuu says. “I was born via in vitro fertilization.”

“Hatchling~!” Crowley whines, disliking how wrong-footed his child leaves him. “That is hardly kind!”

Yuu lets out an undignified snort. “Sure, because that compares to dumping me back on Uncle Divvy after a week out of the test tube with instructions to leave me under a bridge somewhere.”

Both Leech twins pin him with equally unnerving stares, and Crowley has to remind himself that he is three times the villain they’ll ever be, that they couldn’t actually hurt him even if they did both attack at once.

Leviathan is just leaning against his desk, mouthing “Uncle Divvy” to himself with the sort of frquency usually reserved for those afflicted by Divus’ hysteria gas.

“We talked about that!” Crowley pleads desperately. “It was to make sure that you could grow strong through adversity! I could hardly expect you to take up my position if you grew up soft and dependent, now could I?”

“Babies are soft and dependent, that’s the whole point. I’d have been dead within the week if Uncle Divvy hadn’t given me to Mom and Dad.” Yuu sighs, slumping back into the chair. “Whatever. I’m never taking over from you and I don’t want any of your money. Can I go home now?”

“I’ll arrange for a car as I am so gracious—” Crowley states firmly at the same time as Leviathan interjects with “Ah, let me take you—”

He shoots a poisonous glare at the young upstart, and then at the unprofessional lackey who’s still clinging to his child.

“No thanks, to both of you.” Yuu sighs. “I’ll just call Yuuken to pick me up—”

“Eeeh?! But Shrimpy, he’s so lame and boring!” The twin in Yuu’s lap whines. “I can’t even squeeze him properly!”

“Yeah, that’s not really a negative here.” The reporter quips, putting up with the way the merman whines and nuzzles into their shoulder, teeth dangerously close to their jugular.

“I don’t like him.” Crowley sniffs. “He’s too good an influence on you.”

“Well, guess whose business that is?!” His offspring asks cheerily, before dropping back into their irritated moue. “Not yours. I’ll spend time with whoever I please, you can go suck an e—”

“I’ve called you a cab, Yuu-san.” The sadistic Leech brother pipes up, pulling his phone away from his ear. “It’s already paid for, so please don’t worry about it.”

The reporter frowns again, before shaking their head with a tired sigh. “Thank you. I need to go sleep off a migraine, so untie me and I’ll see you three next week or something.”

Leviathan moves forward to tug swiftly at the ropes pinning their arms behind their back and pulling his henchmen off of them, finally. “Let me escort you out at least. It wouldn’t do to have any more unpleasant surprises before you got home.”

“Fine.” Yuu pins Crowley with that look that always makes him want to squirm. “Have a lovely day, Dire Crowley-san.”

“Likewise.” He watches his heir walk out as the violent Leech twin calls out “Bye bye, Shrimpy~!”

He turns to those two upstarts, drawing himself up to his full height. “I am certain I don’t need to impress upon you the fact that none of what went on in here leaves this room, yes?”

The sadistic one meets his eye for a moment, spreading his hands wide with an unpleasant smile. “I am unsure of what you mean, Crowley-sama.”

“Yeah, dunno~” The violent one chirps from where he’s now perched in the recently vacated chair.

“Well, suffice it to say that Divus came up with a very interesting potion to affect merfolk, some years ago.” Crowley allows himself a cruel smirk. “One that gives them legs permanently. Shame it doesn’t do the same for lungs. I will not tell him how...carelessly you boys have been treating one of his most prized experiments, as I am gracious, am I not?”

He watches the pair of them swallow reflexively with a thrill of dark satisfaction. “Yes, Crowley-sama.” They chorus.

“Wonderful!” Crowley chirps, clasping his hands together. “Now, I think it’s time for a special lesson on respecting the personal boundaries of one’s hostages, don’t you?”

[thelastdrop]

Festival 2: Explanation

TWICE Momo & TWICE Nayeon x Male Reader

3877 words

Categories: smut, threesome, oral

Read on AFF

You couldn’t get into the hotel room fast enough. Before you and Momo can scan the card to enter the room she’s already wrapped her arms around your neck pulling you in for a kiss. Once again taking charge she pushes her tongue into your mouth

Fumbling your way through the dark room, clothes are flying everywhere landing near each other on the floor as you take a seat on the edge of the bed. Momo makes quick work of your pants tossing them to the side and begins stroking your hardening cock in her hand.

Momo moves her lips up and down the side of your shaft before taking it into her warm mouth. Slowly and steadily taking you all the way down to the base, causing you to throw your head back onto the bed letting out a low moan.

—

When Momo had asked you if you’d like to go back to her room or your’s, you weren’t sure how to respond.

“Aren’t you sharing a room?” you asked curiously. She’d come here with all her friends so wouldn’t she be saving money by having her own place to stay?

“Our company is handling all our travel expenses, so each of us have our own room,” she cutely replies, swinging her shoulders.

“Oh well let’s just go to whoever's closer then.”

“Ooooooh eager to get me alone again, aren’t you?” Momo teases nudging you.

“How could I not be? I’ve wanted to see you begging for more since I laid eyes on you.”

“Begging for more huh?” a voice echoes from behind the both of you.

You turn to see Nayeon trailing close, almost too close, behind you two.

“So Momo you sure he’s the one you want to have with us while we’re here?” Nayeon continues, “I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to find someone to replace him now, you still have time.”

“Oh there’s no way I’m switching. Like I said before I know how to pick ‘em” she replies back, sending a wink in your direction.

“Well if you're so sure, you wouldn’t mind me tagging along would you? I mean our hotel is two blocks away so it must be the closer of the two rooms. And you’re going to need my help if you're going to make it to your room without them noticing.”

Without them noticing? What the hell did Nayeon mean by that? She must be talking about the rest of the girls, right? You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Momo then at Nayeon. Both seemed to be waiting on your approval of the whole situation.

“Well if it’s okay with Momo it’s okay with me.” Momo happily nods her head. She must really want to show you off to Nayeon the way she’s acting. “But I do have one rule, Momo gets fucked first we have… a previous arrangement.”

“That’s fine with me” Nayeon says, walking closer to you and placing her mouth close to your ear. “There are plenty of other ways you can take care of me while you fuck her,” Nayeon whispers, gently blowing on your ear.

Shivers run up your spine as she takes a step back and works out a plan with Momo. They both began talking in Korean, which you were only able to pick up on because your company deals heavily with importing and exporting goods to and from South Korea.

You still had no real grasp on the language, but could tell when someone else was speaking it.

Momo informs you of the plan. You’ll need to wait with her for about 5 minutes to let Nayeon have a head start, then you both can make your way to the hotel. Once Nayeon walks away Momo asks if you have any clothes in the backpack you’ve been carrying around all day. She scrounges around inside of it for a couple seconds and pulls out your favorite hoodie.

“Perfect! I was starting to get a little cold.”

A little cold? To you it felt super nice after how hot it can get in the middle of festival crowds being in the open air felt nice. And you could have sworn you saw Momo sweating while you were dancing together during Post Malhone’s set.

Nevertheless you and Momo made your way to her hotel. After a couple minutes of walking you notice Momo pull the hood up far enough to hide her face. Was she embarrassed to be seen walking with you? Once you got close and saw how much more extravagant it was compared to your own, which caused even more questions to start buzzing through your head.

As the elevator’s doors closed Momo quickly took off the hoodie and placed it back into your backpack. While still behind you she slyly snakes her hands around your waist she cups your dick in her hands.

“God I can’t wait to feel this stretch my tight cunt to its limits”

—

As you picked your head back up off of the bed to take a look at Momo giving you another mind blowing blow job, there was a knock on the door. Momo releases your dick from her mouth with a little pop.

“Don’t move.”

You give her a slight nod and watch her raise up walk toward the door. Watching Momo’s naked ass sway side to side as she strode toward the door, kept your dick firmly against your stomach as you waited for her return. You couldn’t wait to grab and squeeze it like there’s no tomorrow as you pound her into the mattress.

Momo moved onto tiptoes and peered through the eye hole of her door. Lowering herself down quickly, you watched her butt and thighs jiggle as she stepped to the side opening the door allowing the knocker to enter.

“Not even waiting for me before you st-” Nayeon’s words were cut off as she entered the room and saw you laying on the bed. “Holy shit Momo you really did pick a good one.”

“Oh trust me I know” Momo says cockily as she returns to her previous position.

Momo, not wanting to waste anytime, quickly takes you to the back of her throat. Swallowing around your head just like she had done several hours before. Working into a steady pace moving up and down your shaft, while her hands follow her lips twisting in a corkscrew motion is enough force yet another low moan out of your throat.

“I see you’ve started using some of my techniques now,” Nayeon says as she begins walking into the room making her way behind Momo.

“Oh my what’s this,” Nayeon coos as she kneels behind Momo. “Baby peach is soaked just from sucking on that big, thick cock?”

Nayeon reaches down and quickly shoves two fingers into Momo, causing her to hum around your dick sending vibrations throughout your body. Nayeon begins to furiously pump her fingers in and out of Momo’s cunt making an even bigger mess on the floor below her.

Momo’s lustful gaze is aimed directly at you while she continues to lather your dick in her spit and saliva, gagging every now and then as she takes you into her throat. Nayeon removes her fingers and brings them to her mouth. Momo lets out a whimper not wanting Nayeon to stop. Nayeon gives her a sharp slap on her ass, causing the girl to let out a muffled yelp, and locks eyes with you.

You are completely fixated on the stunning Korean girl standing in front of you. Nayeon begins strip teasing you as Momo continues working your cock and balls. Slowly crossing her arms and grabbing the hem of her top, she works it up her body revealing a delicious midriff, not quite as defined as Momo’s but still just as delectable.

She continues to pull it against her body, making you notice her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her top, signaling to you she must not be wearing a bra underneath. After a couple of quick jiggles she pulls it up far enough to free her tits with a bounce. While not nearly as big as Momo’s, the air of confidence that Nayeon has around her really accentuates her features. Biting her bottom lip she pulls it over her head and tosses it on the floor next to Momo.

With a slight spin she turns her back to you and grabs the waistline of her pants. Bending down, making sure to keep her pants tight on her ass, she slowly moved them down her legs freeing her delicious ass and thighs from the tight confines they were being held in. Almost instantly you notice that she was also going commando, giving you an excellent view or her already wet pussy.

Momo sensing you haven’t been paying attention to her takes you deep into her throat, forcing you to instinctively buck your hips up off the bed.

“Now Momo there’s no need to get jealous, you’re still going to get the first crack at Y/N,” Nayeon jests.

After several long seconds of being trapped in Momo’s throat she slowly rises up and releases you with a pop. Momo stands up chest heaving up and down, wordlessly her wonton body lets you know exactly what she wants. You reach for her arm and pull her onto the bed. You shifted into place over Momo and guided your cock toward her pussy. With a steady motion, you sank into her pushing all the way down. Feeling her tight walls stretch around you was almost enough to make you pass out after the intense blow job you had just received.

“Oh my God” you shuddered, hips bucking once at the feeling of Momo’s tight, wet heat. You needed to stay still though, feeling overwhelmed at how good it felt.

Nayeon came up behind you and pressed her bare chest onto your back. Feeling her soft tits roam up and down your back as her hands roamed your chest and abs just added to the sensations you were already feeling.

“Take it slow to start out” Nayeon whispered as she nibbled on your ear.

You gave a slight nod, pulling your hips back till your head is almost out, then sinking back in again. Momo’s tight walls continue their grip around you making each motion that much more difficult. Momo mashed her lips together at just how deep you were hitting inside her.

“F-Fuck your so big,” Momo moaned as you bottomed out inside of her.

Those words were all the encouragement you needed and caused a switch to flip inside you. Your hips took off, increasing in speed and strength filling the room with loud clapping sounds and your hips met Momo’s.

“Fuck!” She yelled as she grasped at your arms.

Nayeon sauntered her way up onto the bed leaving you without the warm sensation on your back you had become accustomed to. She straddled Momo's head, placing her pussy within licking distance of Momo’s mouth.

“We can’t have you making so much noise Momo, now can we?” She said as she lowered herself down onto Momo.

Momo began to hungrily lap at the folds before her now. Switching between long, slow licks and quick, focused ones around Nayeon’s clit.

“Shit Momo you always eat me out so well,” Nayeon moaned.

Feeling emboldened, you reached forward and grabbed the back of Nayeon’s neck and pulled her in for a lust-filled kiss. Keeping your hand firmly on Momo’s creamy thigh in an attempt to keep the pace that you were going, you pushed your tongue into Nayeon’s mouth fighting for dominance. Nayeon moaned into the kiss, throwing both her arms around your neck.

You then moved your hand downward till you found her nipple and captured it between your thumb and forefinger. You gave it a little tug which elicited another hum from Nayeon letting you know it was something she enjoyed. Opening your hand you palmed her tit and began to knead it.

Breaking the kiss you and Nayeon stared into each other’s eyes before you leaned back and grabbed Momo’s waist, lifting her up while increasing your pace once more. A long muffled moan escaped the lips of Momo as she continued to eat out Nayeon. She then moved her attention and latched onto Nayeon’s clit sucking it harshly. Nayeon let out a whine, moving both her hands to Momo’s swinging tits for stability.

As Momo gave one long lick along Nayeon’s folds, Nayeon started to buck her hips across the long, slick surface.

“Shit Momo I’m almost there.” Nayeon hissed out. Only lasting a couple of thrusts Nayeon’s eyes rolled back as she began to quiver on top of Momo. Covering her face with her warm honey. After about a minute had passed Nayeon leaned toward you, threw her arms around your neck again and gave you a deep, long kiss. This one felt... different though there was no battle for control, no sloppy use of tongues, just a deep, long kiss you hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

She broke your kiss and lifted herself off of Momo, freeing her. Momo’s mouth and chin was now soaked with Nayeon’s juices. You quickly leaned down and captured her lips so you could taste the mixture of both her and Nayeon.

“Goddamnit, your cock is so fucking good.” She moaned as clung onto your biceps and wrapped her legs around you.

You swallowed and moved lower to wrap her lips around a nipple, sucking lightly. Nayeon’s hand moved down along Momo’s body and began rubbing her clit. Momo became a mess at this point moaning both your and Nayeon’s name, so Nayeon pressed their lips together to silence her.

“Shit... I’m gonna cum soon.” You husk out.

“M-Me too. Oh fu-.” Her words were cut off as she began shuddering below you, coating your cock in her juices. Her walls tighten around your dick, making you grunt as you continue to thrust through it. Abs on fire you showed no relent as you continued your assault on Momo.

“Momo…”

“Outside. Today isn’t safe for her.” Nayeon relayed as her friend continued to tremble beneath you.

You quickly pulled out and began to jack off. You only lasted a few more strokes before unloading all over Momo’s body. Some landing on her stomach, some landing on her tits. As your orgasm stopped Nayeon moved and began to lick all of your hot cum up off of Momo’s body.

Once she gathered it all up, she looked at you with lustful eyes and swallowed. Smiling, she looked down to see your cock, still hard and standing proud.

Your gaze was focused on Momo’s body, watching her chest chest heavy up and down as she was still coming down from the state of ecstasy you placed her into.

A tug on your arm causing you to flip on your back laying down next to Momo snapped you out of the trance-like state you were in.

“Just relax baby, I’ll take it from here.” Nayeon said as she began to straddle you.

As you looked upon the gorgeous Korean woman above you and the stunning Japanese woman to your side, you began to wonder if all your luck had been used up tonight. Had all of the good karma you’d been saving been blown in a one-night stand? Would you ever reach a more perfect place than the one you found yourself in now, with two of the most sexy women you had ever met vying to be with you.

Nayeon slowly lowering herself onto you brought you back into the present moment. Placing her hands on his abs as she took her time to savour the stretch that your cock provided.

"Fuck, that's big," she whined, hands tightening against you as she grit her teeth and tried to steady herself.

She then began to rock her hips back and forth making your cock hit every nook and cranny of her tight cunt. Nayeon wanted to get the full experience that this dick could provide her, trying to satisfy needs that looked like they hadn’t been in a long time.

Wanting more, Nayeon began to ride you hard and feverishly, moaning in ecstasy as she started up and down your big dick, a gasping mess greedily pursuing all the sensations she could muster. She was chasing something shameless, bouncing quickly and roughly on her new found toy.

You were happy to let her keep going at this pace, especially as her ample tits began to bounce and heave before your hungry and delighted eyes. Your hands moved up Nayeon’s soft, creamy thighs before they settled on her hips allowing you to lay back and enjoy the show that she was putting on for you.

“Fuck Nayeon you feel so good around my dick.”

"Mm, and I have to thank Momo for helping me get some dick this nice," Nayeon whined, biting down firmly on her lip as she continued to heave atop him proudly.

Being able to let a bombshell like Nayeon have complete control over you was something you gladly accepted, letting the waves of ecstasy roll over the both of you. Watching your dick appear and disappear while getting coated in a mixture of both Nayeon and Momo’s juices dragged you deeper into an amazing state of bliss.

Nayeon trembled, body inching closer and closer toward the excited rush of pleasure she craved. She knew her orgasm was drawing closer, able to feel herself aching and shivering with the hot, throbbing want and Nayeon didn't want it to stop. Not for anything.

“Y/N!” Nayeon yelled as she came, howling your name as she bucked and shivered.

Hearing other moans coming from beside you, you turn to find Momo playing with her pussy. Unable to hold back as she watched Nayeon work herself into a state of complete bliss. Watching her friend become lost in the hot, lustful desire that you had put her into was too much for her to just watch idly.

Planting your feet firmly on the bed you began thrusting upwards into Nayeon chasing after your own orgasm. The quick change of pace sent Nayeon into another orgasm, shuddering and digging her nails into you abs as you pounded into her.

“Oh fuck! Come inside me I need to feel your hot cum deep in my pussy.”

Losing yourself for the second time tonight, you roughly thrust upward grunting and groaning as you loosed a massive flood of cum deep into her pussy. You pulled Nayeon down for a sloppy kiss as she was lost in her own orgasmic state.

“Momo… you... REALLY... found a good here” she gasped as she laid her head on your chest.

“I’m glad you finally see that I do know what I’m doing when it’s MY turn.”

“Well I’m going to get cleaned up first. Unless someone would like to join me for another round?” Nayeon smirks looking at you.

“No way Nayeon you need to get back to your room, you don’t know when someone will be coming around to check up on us.”

“Fine, fine I’ll go alone,” Nayeon coincided, “but I can’t wait to brag to the others about the stallion Momo picked out.”

—

After Nayeon finished cleaning up you and Momo moved into the shower together. Other than groping Momo’s breasts as you applied soap to them or her fondling your empty balls doing the same, there were no advances made. Once out and drying off you finally had to figure out what was going on with this group of girls.

“Okay Momo you really need to start explaining. First, you and friends all pick out someone whenever you go somewhere, and make him your sex toy? Then you say your company is paying for you to stay in a super nice hotel like this one and everyone has their own rooms? And you guys had to, what, sneak me in here?” you asked tying a towel around your waist, “I know, I know it’s a lot of questions, but I can’t help but wonder what the fuck I got myself into.”

Momo lets out a sigh as she finishes putting her robe on and takes a seat on the bed. She pats the spot next her and looks at you. You oblige her request and take a seat next to her.

“Okay, so how do I go about this… Kinda, yes, yes.”

“... Kinda, yes, yes?”

“To your questions! Yes our company put us up in this hotel. Yes we had to sneak you in here. And to say we just pick someone out and make them our sex toy while we’re where we happen to be isn’t entirely true,” Momo responds. “With most places we go, we each take turns picking someone out to spend time with us while we are staying in that city. As soon as the majority of the group vetoes the choice though we move onto the next person’s turn. We’ve never all fully accepted someone that we’ve picked out. There’s always someone who doesn’t like the guy for various reasons, but with you…” she pauses for a brief moment and looks you in the eyes, “you’ll definitely be sticking around.” A warm smile creeps across Momo’s face as she delivers that last line to you.

Your heart skips a beat as she stares into your eyes. You feel your face getting hotter and turn to face the ground. Once you calm down, you turn to face Momo again.

“But what’s with all the secrecy? When we were almost to the hotel you hid your face while you were walking next to me.”

“That’s the other big thing we hide to start out, but I know that you wouldn’t let anyone know about what I’m about to tell you right?”

Thoughts start dashing through your head. Are these girls in some kind of Asian mafia, are they secret agents, powerful business women who would be ruined if they got caught cheating on their spouses? You take a deep breath and calm your thoughts. I mean honestly what’s the worst thing she could possibly say? She’s a part of some internationally popular girl group that has adoring and sometimes crazy fans?

“Yeah, sure whatever you tell me now I’ll never repeat to anyone else.”

Momo’s smile becomes even bigger. She leans in and gives you a deep, affectionate kiss.

“Okay so take your time to process what I’m about to say and let me know what you think.”

You give her a slight nod.

“So me and the eight other girls you met today are part of an internationally popular kpop girl group that has adoring and sometimes crazy fans.”

A/N Welp there it is. You’ve somehow gotten into some kind of relationship with TWICE. I hope you guys like where the story is going, and the plot doesn’t seem too boring. It took me a lot longer than I’d thought to get through this chapter, but I am really proud of how it turned out. Like always feel free to leave comments with your feedback or suggestions. Thanks for reading! 

[lochnessies]

Same anon who sent the byleth feh voice ask. Cassandra Morris has range enough to do an emotionless character (she did kyubey in the madoka dub). Another random question is there any voice actors in the fe3h dub you think could've been great/perfect if given different direction (this is ignoring the script/translation issues)?

hmm… i can’t say that i have too many issues with the voice acting outside of jeritza (and rhea a bit but at the same time i do enjoy her anger on cf so that’s a toss up with me). i feel like whoever was in charge of casting did a really excellent job all things considered

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

PART I

concept: this is a collection of happenings, the little moments with him, rather than a whole thought-out fic. the slowest of slow burns. this is the second part, the reunion. this is what happens when the night is over.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 2,618

warnings: none, except a little profanity

author’s note: part two is here! i hope you like it :)

The second time you met Chris, was while you were at work. You were a cocktail waitress at a relatively posh, incredibly elite, uptown bar. The kind that charges you way too much for a drink so little, and probably sells diamond infused vodka. This was the night spot of everyone who was anyone – gods that sipped golden champagne from fine, polished Baccarat flutes that were probably worth your house.

You had no problem with rich people. You just had a problem with the way some treated you – and that was to say, not very well.

“Hey.” A male voice startled you out of your near robotic drink making. They were a bit understaffed that night, so you had taken the liberty of helping out behind the bar while the tables in your section remained vacant. You were somewhat of an expert cocktail maker – you could even safely say you could do it blindfolded (an exceptionally wild bachelor’s party provided proof enough). So it wasn’t uncommon for your mind to drift elsewhere while you mixed a drink. You tilted your head slightly in the direction of your co-worker, letting him know you were listening, while still pretending to be way more immersed in your task than you really were. It was that anti-social kind of night, where you’d rather be curled up at home with Netflix and a mug of tea rather than be there (despite being fully aware of how many girls would kill to have entry to the most exclusive club in Los Angeles). But the pay was good – excellent, actually – and you did get some really nice patrons at times. And your co-workers? They weren’t half bad, either. “There’s a table that just sat down in your station.”

You swore under your breath, finished mixing the drink with a sped efficiency, and handed it off to the patron. “Your station” was the VIP section, and was rarely very busy so early in the evening. You knew club routine well enough by now: pre-drinks before the party were often done at home, in the limos, or in a relatively tame bar somewhere nearby. This was for the pleasantries, the catching up, the conversations that would inevitably be drowned out by the pounding music if done anywhere else. That usually occurred around this time. This club – and many like it – the kind that was where everyone who was anyone had to be seen at – was the second phase. The party phase. The phase where most of the time, drama, and scandal, took place. This was often from 10pm till 4am, depending on the stamina of the party goers. And then the wind down: after parties, often held at someone’s house. This was the natural order of the night world, and you respected people who respected that. You modelled your entire schedule around that.

That’s why you had assumed that your station would’ve been empty until much later – until after pre-drinks and conversations. Whoever just sat down in VIP – they were disturbing the natural fucking order, and you were not having it. Well, you were silently not having it; you still needed, like, money.

Your job didn’t come without it’s perks, though. A murder of stunning people were sat on the plush leather couches surrounding black marble topped tables behind the velvet chain that separated them from the masses. Some you recognised instantly from the big screen, and others from the tabloids. And one from a personal encounter… Your breath caught and you damn near choked.

There he was, reclined on the couch, so at ease with his arms spread over the back, grinning and laughing at something someone had said. He wasn’t looking at you. Yet. That changed abruptly, as soon as you (after having gathered your confidence) introduced yourself to them.

He faltered slightly in his laugh, but his grin remained – growing even wider, as slowly, he tilted his head to look over at you.

Immediately his eyes brightened. If there was any doubt in your mind as to whether or not it was really him, it dissipated with that single nod of recognition he gave you.

You cleared your throat as a small diversion to clear your head. “Are you ready to order?”

They rattled off their orders, almost all of them barely paying any attention to your silent exchange with Chris. Almost.

A (begrudgingly) stunning female on Chris left, who was pressed eagerly into his side, gave you a dirty once over and sneered out her order to you. Oh. She was one of those. The ones who looked down at literally anyone not a billionaire.

He noticed her disdain, and his grin fell. A small victory, he revoked his arm from around her – bemused by her display of deluded superiority. You had to physically hide your smirk as you got the last order – his – and slipped behind the bar with the orders engraved in your mind.

——————

The group departed after about two hours. Two hours of eyeing the table (mainly to check if their glasses were still full, or if they needed anything else – or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself), two hours of stolen glances – ones that you were always the first to pull away from, usually after the inevitable smirk that touched his lips when you looked for a bit longer than you should.

When they left, you cleaned the table. Who was he? He seemed to have friends in high places, but there was something else… You knew, when you first met him, that you knew his face. Ugh, that itch was back – the one in the brain where you know you know something but it’s evading your every grasp – and it was refusing to go away. Like an earworm of a melody, lyrics forgotten.

It plagued you for the remainder of your shift – which wasn’t necessarily long, just an hour or so more – and even as you got ready to go home.

It was approaching peak hours now, and so you knew the front would be bustling with paps and desperate social climbers begging for entrance from the surly bouncers, who stood as monoliths in churning seas. Because with peak hours, came the rich and famous; socialites, actors, singers, designers, models. And with them, the gods of the nightlife, came the screaming hordes.

God, you were dramatic. You smirked to yourself, at the internal monologue you were maintaining, as you punched in the code to slip out the back. Anything to keep a scrap of sanity in these long nights. So wrapped up in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice him following you until he laid a scopic hand on your shoulder.

You whirled, shoving him against a wall, knee approaching dangerously close to his crotch before you mercifully faltered at the familiar face.

“Chris?!” You were breathless with exhilaration, adrenaline thick in your veins at having been caught off guard. You released him, stepping away to run your hand through your hair to brush it away from your face. “What are you doing, hiding in a back alley, trying to catch unsuspecting girls off guard?!”

He chuckled at your scolding tone, at the way you pressed a hand to your beating heart, over the top dramatism at play in your actions. “Trying to catch an unsuspecting girl off guard. Obviously.”

You realised then how strange it was for him to still be here; his party departed at least an hour and a half ago. “Did you wait out here for me?”

“Can you promise not to kick me in the balls if I said yes?”

You laughed as he cautiously eyed your legs at his sentiment. “So, what, you’re following me now?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m not the one who waited an hour for someone, out in a back alley, in the freezing cold.” To punctuate your point, a cold blast of wind ripped through the alleyway, worming its way under your coat to stroke at your skin with cold tendrils. You shivered, crossing your arms to preserve the warmth. “You’re not an axe murderer, are you?”

He patted down his pockets. “Ah, shit. Must’ve left my axe at home.” His tone was dead serious, but at your roll of the eyes, he grinned.

You buried your hands in your pocket to stave off the chill. Weirdly enough, after the initial shock, you were glad to have someone with you to walk with you to your car, parked three blocks away to make room for the patrons’ stretch limousines. You inclined your head in the direction of your vehicle, nodding for him to walk with you.

He smiled softly, following you out of the dim lighting of the alleyway, into the lights of the main road. The clamour outside of the club was a roar, the leering of the paps at the celebrities who entered becoming a jumble of white noise.

You noticed how, as soon as you both approached the light, he ducked his head and upturned the collar of his jacket, avoiding the peoples’ attentative eye. You both pushed by relatively unnoticed, and you only spoke again when the bellowing crowd was a distant memory.

“So, who are you?”

The question took him by surprise. The action of lighting the cigarette he had propped between his lips stuttered, and he gave you an apprehensive look. He struck the match he had poised in his hand, looking down to watch where the flame licked. “You know who I am.”

“You just sat where Justin Bieber sat. I served drinks to the Kardashians on that couch. Only the VIPs of VIPs sit there. So, are you famous or something?”

Shaking the match out, he took a drag – prolonging his answer as long as he possibly could. He deliberated you, wondering what your reaction would be. Would you treat him differently, now? “Or something.”

You eyed him up, skeptical, before breaking into a massive grin. “Cool,” you said non-chalantly. Or at least in your head. What you really said was: “I fucking knew I wasn’t losing my mind! I fucking knew it, Mr I-Just-Have-One-Of-Those-Faces. Oh my God, I’m not crazy, fuck yes!”

The look he gave you negated that entirely, because indeed, he was looking at you as if you were a mad woman, in spite of the amused twist of his lips. “Are you done?”

After a moment of appraising him, you nodded, calm again. “Yeah, I’m done.”

You were less excited that you were in the presence of celebrity royalty, more relieved that you weren’t insane for feeling he was so familiar. That was refreshing for Chris; usually after someone discovered his identity, they would treat him differently – sidling up to him, for a favour or money or status or cloning DNA. Or for workout tips, but he got that regularly. Barring the brief moment of unhinged happiness you displayed, you treated him as you did before. Like when he stole your cab.

“Andy Barber!” You had started walking again, him alongside you, in a pleasant silence. Your outburst caused both of you to pause again. “Ransom Drysdale? Steve Rogers…”

He arched a brow in question, taking a pensive drag from his cigarette. “Are you having a stroke?”

“That’s where I recognise you from.” Mumbling to yourself, you muttered “God, I knew I wasn’t crazy.”

He chuckled, flicking the ash off his cigarette, both of you continuing on in a comfortable silence.

“So, what did I do to deserve the chance at having you escort me to my car?”

He stomped out the cigarette, smoke curling from his lips as he tried to find the best way to word his question. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh, you can proposition my fist to your face,” you chuckled in disbelief. “Just because you’re all high and mighty and famous doesn’t mean that every girl you meet is going to throw themselves at your feet even if you did buy me pizza and you’re all smug and handsome and have impeccable dress sense like, seriously, what is that? Armani? What? Why are you laughing at me?”

He had started laughing sometime during your rant and the sound, contagious and warm, had caused you to falter. You fought a smile that was threatening to rise. You were trying to make a point, goddamnit, and you would be damned if he was going to ruin it with his smug, handsome face.

“A business proposition, {your name},” he managed to say among the peels of laughter. “But please, do go on my impeccable dress sense.”

You were mortified. You probably sounded proper arrogant, thinking that he wanted to get in your pants. You groaned, hiding your face in your hands for a moment to conceal the fast rising heated flush of embarrassment. Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let him know. Thanks, Elsa.

“What, uh,” you cleared your throat, turning away to continue your stalling trek (and to avoid his gaze). “What business proposition?”

“Do you like dogs?”

You ignored how laugh-drunk his voice sounded – gravelly and lilted with amusement. It just served to feed your embarrassment further. “Love them. Why?”

Now it was his turn to clear his throat. “I recently, uh, split up with my girlfriend and I’m heading to Vancouver for a few months for a film. She was meant to help look after Dodger and the house while I was gone, but, given the recent change in plans, that would appear to no longer be an option.”

He avoided your gaze as you glanced over at him, but you could see the throb of the muscle in his jaw, indicating the grit of his teeth.

“And you have deemed me worthy?” You tried lightening the mood a little, and was satisfied by his small smile and accompanying chuckle.

“I know it’s too much to ask of a stranger–”

“Why don’t you get a friend to do it?”

“I would, if any were deemed worthy,” he teased. Warmth swelled in his eyes when he looked at you next, and paired with that smile and the words he spoke next, you knew you would do anything he asked. “And I am asking a friend.”

A beat passed. “Fine. I’ll live in your stupid mansion and look after your stupid dog. Okay, I didn’t mean that last bit, I’m sure Dodger is lovely, but I’ll have you know: I don’t come cheap.”

“What, living in my mansion isn’t good enough?”

“Fuck no! I still need to feed the dog, clean up after it, clean the house, have money on hand for damages in case I get too wild by myself… There’s a long, fucking list.”

“I’m sure we can make an arrangement,” he smirked.

You shivered slightly at the double entendres laced in his words; good thing it was cold, so you could easily excuse it.

“What makes you think I’ll say yes?” You tip your head in the direction of the club from which you were making your slow escape. “They pay well, a lot better than house sitting.”

“Are you happy there?”

You balked at his question. “The money is good–”

“I wasn’t asking about the money, I was asking if you were happy.” He arched a brow, something close to concern crossing his face.

“I–”

He cocked his head, waiting for an answer. You knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“No, not really. Some people are real assholes, especially when drunk.”

“Then it’s settled. You’ll come work for me.”

“Woah, hey now. I can’t just… Uproot my life and live with you. For starters, I have a lease and stuff. And I have a life, a job, a–”

“I have an adorable mixed boxer and a Jacuzzi.”

“When do I start?”

[whitleyschn33]

RWBY7 Soundtrack

Should I be reviewing/giving my thoughts on the OST when I have plenty of asks in my inbox to answer and have no musical authority at all? No, probably not. Am I doing it anyway? Yes.

This is just going to be in what (I assume) is the track order. Let me know if I miss any; I’m going off a YouTube playlist.

1. Trust Love

Initial thoughts: Eh.

It’s okay. It’s not my favorite opening, that honor goes to When It Falls, but it’s competent. Very optimistic, which is a trend for this volume’s soundtrack despite how dire the tone of the latter half is, so I don’t think it fully fits the volume it opens for, but it’s by no means a bad song. It’s easy to sing along and bop to, just doesn’t seem as impressive as the other opening songs. It feels like a different sort of sound than what RWBY songs have been in the past, which is also a running theme for the OST this volume - new artists singing, a lot of experimentation in the style. That’s not a bad thing; the tracks I like the most on this album are the different sounding ones, but it’s very.... noticeable, and didn’t go in the direction you would think for Atlas. 

2. Touch the Sky

Initial Thoughts: Why is the best part of this song the ending?

No, but seriously, that outro is a very different sound to the proceeding song and it’s so good. Other than that, I’ve got questions. Like, whose song is this? I’m leaning towards Team RWBY as a whole, but I’ve seen people suggest it’s Weiss’s, it’s Blake’s, I could see an argument for Yang - it’s very unclear. Also, why is the POV character(s) so happy? Their situation isn’t all that much better in terms of Salem and the Relic and all that; they should still be weighed down with that knowledge, shouldn’t they? They don’t trust Ironwood to help make things all better, they still have to carry the Relic (for plot reasons), the only thing that’s changed is that they’re going out on missions. Well, fresh clothes and a distraction are always nice, and it is a chance to put all that stuff on the back burner. I’ll give them that, then.

3. Brand New Day

Initial Thoughts: From the writers that make every Blake song a duet, here’s her volume 7 song; a duet with.... Qrow?

Have Blake and Qrow ever even spoken to each other? And, is there actually no solo Blake song, or am I beating on a dead meme? Actually, to be completely serious, these two actually work well in a song together. Their character directions compliment each other in this volume - both trying to reinvent themselves some and become better (Blake with her new hair and outfits, Qrow with a new outfit and a resolve to recover from alcoholism), it’s just a shame that, you know, this kind of talk or relationship never happens in the show. At all.

Someone in the YouTube comment section said this song sounds like a 90′s sitcom opening, and I have to agree. It really does, mixed with a bit of 50′s doo-wap. It’s not bad, I actually like the doo-wap, but it also has bits of the usual RWBY style rock, and they don’t mix as coherently as I would like in some places. The guitar bridge after Qrow’s verse is pretty nice, though.

Overall, it’s another good song to bop along to, but like the songs before it, I’m not sure it’s one I’ll be listening to over and over.

4. Let’s Get Real

Initial Thoughts: So, even the song thinks they should talk - why didn’t they?

Here’s something you may not know about me. I don’t romantically ship Renora. I’ve always preferred them as a brother/sister pair - probably in part because I’m a sucker for found family. I’ve never really had anything against romantic Renora, though... but this volume definitely made me go from neutral to dislike. Ren’s confused, he’s worried, he’s having doubts about their relationship that he’s not sure how to vocalize. He admits as much. And instead of, I don’t know, respecting that and letting it be for the moment, or pulling him aside to try and help him talk it through, she... kisses him. Instead of stopping to let them work through where their relationship is at the present (which would be nice, to clue the audience in on what exactly their status is), she pushes their relationship to the next level, presumably. It leaves a very bad taste in my mouth, that Ren’s emotions about his relationship with Nora are just shoved aside and aren’t brought up again. Hopefully it does in the next volume (Nora and Ren are notably split for, like, the first time ever in the Volume 8 preview), but still - I thought Tumblr had decided that “guy shuts a girl up by kissing her” trope was sexist or something - shouldn’t this be similarly scrutinized?

Putting that aside, I actually really really like this. It’s very reminiscent of Shine, but a Renora version; it’s got a great beat, the lyrics do a great job in character insight (something I love from RWBY songs, which are probably why Touch the Sky doesn’t do a lot for me), and it’s just a very fun, peppy song. It also feels very at home in Atlas with it’s more techno-leanings. The ending chorus chant of “Is it love?” is also a nice touch.

5. Celebrate

Initial Thoughts: The better Brand New Day (musically speaking).

And by that I mean, it leans all the way into this different style than the half/half approach Brand New Day did, and it’s all the better for it. Once again, another good dancing song, easy to listen and bop to, but it feels... oddly generic. For one thing, there’s no character tied to it, no character insight - I guess you could make an argument for Robin or the Happy Huntresses, but... not really? For another, while as a song I really enjoy the genre of music, it also makes it feel very much not like a RWBY song (something not helped by name-dropping Vegas). It’s fun, but it doesn’t feel like it adds much to the show.

6. War

Initial Thoughts: Wow, I didn’t think you could make me hate the AceOps fight more, but look at that.

Probably the first RWBY song I just flat out hate, and that’s a crying shame considering the excellent music and vocal performances. Those lyrics, though.  Just - I hate them. I hate them so damn much. I refuse to give this song more than that.

7. Hero

Initial thoughts: Hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah HELL YEAH - 

Best song on the album probably. It has all the usual RWBY flare, gives us a great insight into Ironwood’s thoughts and motivations, and is a fantastic performance by Caleb Hyles. The operatic section at the beginning is wonderfully chilling, and the rock section is very epic. 10/10 song even though I’m not rating these.

8. Until the End

Initial thoughts: Time to play “Who does this gorgeous song belong to?”

Actually, I really, really enjoy this song. It’s creepy in its melancholy, but I love it for that. The piano and subtle strings are beautiful, and the way Casey’s voice echoes gives the illusion of solitude in an empty place, perfect for the tone this song conveys.

Now, the matter of whose song it is. The consensus seems to be Ruby and/or Summer, and that’s pretty likely (and letting Ruby actually have a song would be nice). However, I heard a rumor before the album dropped that this was an Ozpin song, and going through it with that lens makes a whole lot of sense - the repeated “I’ll be here until the end”, the constant use of “we”, “our” and other plurals, the lines “ In waves of shame, we’re desperate to make amends / But through a simple soul, we lie complacent” could refer to him lying dormant in Oscar or other souls in the past instead of actively working to defeat Salem, and in the lines “ As light fills my eyes / I’ll picture me beside her / And pray that I’ll inspire”, it could be him thinking of Salem when he dies, and then praying that he’ll be able to inspire others to fight for humanity, for the light. 

I could see it either way, honestly, but no matter which it is, I love this song.

9. Fear

Initial thoughts: Fire whoever was in charge of sound mixing, otherwise, not as preachy as I was fearing.

This is actually the first time I’ve listened to this. I was pretty pissed at the ending of the finale so I didn’t stick around for the credits, and hearing that it was called “Fear”, I was not in the mood for more Ironwood bashing or “You’re just as bad as she is if you act in fear” or whatever BS Oscar said. So, yeah, wasn’t looking forward to this track.

Thankfully, though, it was not another War. I actually enjoyed the lyrics, and the music was top-notch. Don’t really have much more to say about it other than it was difficult to hear the lyrics over the music in some places, but that could be a factor of the video I was listening to. All in all, pleasantly surprised.

10. I May Fall (Acoustic)

Initial Thoughts: Can someone tell the Williams that “acoustic” doesn’t always mean “depressing?”

Like, acoustic doesn’t have to be a super slow, piano/strings, somber rendition, right? It’s just the instruments and the singer without any added computer editing/layering/whatever, if I’m not mistaken. That style of acoustic works alright with songs like Time to Say Goodbye, but not so well with more upbeat songs. This version isn’t bad, per se, but I’d like to see an acoustic version more in line with the original. 

That aside - the original I May Fall is my favorite RWBY song, bar none. This rendition was always going to be something I liked, and I do appreciate a lot about it. The strings are absolutely beautiful, particularly the cello(? I think, again, I’m not much of a music person, just have a sister that plays violin), and I love the way the violin/viola picks up for the second verse and gives the song a second wind, implying more strength and resolve. I love the music cutting out completely to let Casey sing, with the instruments slowly coming in to join as she gets louder and stronger, as if standing with her - beautiful, it’s all insanely beautiful, and this is one I will probably buy.

Closing Thoughts

This album was... average, to me. Only a couple songs really jumped out at me, while most were good, but not something I was dying to listen to again, or were dragged down by the context.

What’re your thoughts on this volume’s songs? I’d love to hear them! Until then, have a good evening, and stay safe!

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Seven

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    

Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.

                                                ⁂

       Check out my writing commission information here!              Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content!                          Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

                                                ⁂

                                        Chapter Index

           <<1>> <<2>> <<3>> <<4>> <<5>> <<6>> <<7>> <<8>> <<9>>

                                               ⁂

The brief hour-long respite Toshinori had blessed Hizashi with had been just enough to keep him from trekking up to the roof of his agency and either jumping or throwing a couple of idiots off, but the hour had ended and Hizashi was once again contemplating either suicide or murder. He was leaning towards murder since no one would really fault him and, plus, Shouta and Toshinori would even be proud of him for picking that option out of the two! 

“Alright. Explain this to me again.” Because Hizashi, despite what people thought, could be patient and understanding. Even on his bad days he did his best to keep his own emotions in check and hear out the people he worked with when a problem occurred. “How did you end up setting one of the lower labs on fire?” 

Two support engineers, one support intern, and the director of the lab in question all exchanged looks with one another. The director clutched his clipboard as if he were about to break it in half due to fear and stress before he cleared his throat, “Well, sir, it’s actually a rather intriguing scientific act that caused the… commotion.” 

Hizashi resisted the urge to faceplant on his desk and instead cursed everyone in his agency for leaving him to deal with this mess. Typically, in cases like lab destruction, it would be dealt with by someone who actually worked in the support labs. The problem with that, however, was that that person was out sick and that left Hizashi, who understood how the support labs and the items inside worked, to deal with the problem.

Hizashi should have taken the day off sick, too. He should have just finished at school and then gone straight home, but no. He had to be stubborn and noble and care about his job. He was regretting his choices in life more and more with each passing second.

“Present Mic, sir.” The intern, a sweet little thing that looked equal parts nervous and excited with hair sticking up in all directions, gave an encouraging grin. “We actually managed to contain the fire to 67% of the lab, as well as keep all volatile projects safe and discover a quicker-burning fuel that gives a more intense burn for Wildfire. With a bit more tweaking, I have no doubt we could have a fuel that would burn through all three layers of skin, barring any quirk changes or effects, within 2.7 seconds!” 

Quiet for a long moment, Hizashi looked up at the lab director, who gave a weak, nervous smile before opening his mouth. He then must have realized that nothing he could say would help the situation because he then closed his mouth and gave an apologetic smile. Hizashi felt his headache, which had been coming in and out all day, give a throb of pain. 

“Alright. You,” Hizashi pointed to the director. “Write up a report of this and send it to whoever is in charge of your lab this week -- not me. Include the fact that not everything was destroyed and you’ve discovered something to better help Wildfire. That’ll take some of the heat off of you.” The only one to appreciate his joke with the intern, who gave a snort of startled laughter. 

“You two.” Hizashi pointed at the engineers, who straightened up nervously. “See what the damage was to everything and draw up a plan to deal with it. Don’t worry too much about cost right now but do what you can to minimize any losses. Try to reuse any supplies that didn’t end up too bad off in the fire, too. And you.” 

Hizashi stared at the intern, who gave him a cheerful, happy little grin. The kid was one of their only first-year interns who had been brought in as a special case and Hizashi could feel himself waver at the bright enthusiasm. Well, no one had said he was strong, really. “Excellent work today, but I want you to write up a one-page essay on fire and lab safety and hand it in to the lab director by your next workday. I also want you to send all the data you collected today to my email with everything you learned.” 

While he didn’t need the data, it would be interesting to see those numbers. Typically a fire that burned that hot and that fast only came about through quirks, so it would be interesting to see how far they could push the effectiveness of it. If they did a good enough job then they could have some support equipment that was on par with some of the quirks that came out of Endeavor’s agency, and it was always nice to knock him down a peg or two.

“Yes sir, Present Mic sir! I’ll even be sure to write two pages about the lab and fire safety!” The intern was out of the room like a shot, Hizashi feeling a twitch of a smile before one of the engineers cleared his throat. 

“Um, sir?” Oh. Oh, Hizashi did not like that tone. “One of the projects that was, uh, compromised today was meant to be Sonic Whip’s.” Ah. Right. Sonic Whip. One of the most terrifying women that Hizashi had ever had the displeasure to meet and who had a temper shorter than a deranged villain’s. “It was of a rather sensitive nature and… She’s expecting the first prototype tomorrow.” 

Hizashi resisted the urge to climb out his office window and escape, instead sucking in a calming breath and grabbing his phone before heading towards the door, “I just remembered I have a meeting.” It was a very important meeting, too; one with his face and a brick wall in the half-forgotten hidden lounge on the bottom floor of the agency.

Thankfully, Hizashi had long since mastered the art of looking like he was on his way to an important meeting, which meant no one tried to stop him as he marched himself through the agency and threw himself down on the first couch he saw in the empty lounge. It was dark, from no one having repaired the lights in a while, it was quiet, where it was tucked away into a back corner with thick walls, and it was always empty where everyone forgot to refill the fridge. It was heaven. 

At least, it was heaven until he heard someone collapse on the couch across from him, the sound of a grunt barely being finished before it turned into a surprised, “Yamada! I wouldn’t have thought you were in here with how quiet it was!” Oh, god, it was the only other person in the agency who could be as loud and cheerful as him. This was punishment. It had to be.

Inching his gaze to the side, Hizashi mourned the peace and quiet he had gotten for only a few short minutes as he looked at Shima Hikari, the hero known as Radiant; a light-quirk user that was no doubt going to make his light sensitivity even worse if she felt even the slightest uptick in excitement. She was looking far too cheerful considering her, and the sidekick Hizashi hadn’t even heard at first, looked like they were a few seconds away from hitting the ground in a puddle of exhaustion. 

Taking a moment to weigh the options between responding and ignoring her, Hizashi finally let out a sigh with a quiet, “Alright, you two?” 

“Peachy keen!” Shima chirped, crossing her legs and then looking over to her sidekick, who had her own legs thrown over one end of the couch and her head resting near Shima’s thigh. Poor kid looked exhausted and Hizashi took a moment to be grateful his own sidekick days were over. Sometimes, even if he truly hated to admit it, he’d rather take the paperwork over dealing with stupid villains and angry cops. “Isn’t that right, Stardust?” The kid gave a pathetic groan that sounded half exhausted and half pained. “That’s the spirit!”

“I think you’ve killed your sidekick,” Hizashi snorted, pushing himself up and biting the inside of his cheek to stop a groan at the throb in his head. “We’re supposed to be careful with those, you know. We only have a limited supply of them.”

Shima huffed, placing a hand against her chest, “Excuse you, I take the utmost care of my sidekicks, thank you very much. At least I don’t load them full of caffeine and sugar and energy drinks and hope they don’t die of exhaustion before the end of a patrol like you do.”

“And yet they love me anyways,” Hizashi snickered, readjusting himself against the couch as he flicked his eyes over the two again. They were both covered with dust and rubble, scratches across all visible parts of their skin. Stardust had one of her ankles tightly wrapped, and Shima had a bandage around her head, but neither of them looked too bad off. “Interesting patrol, then?” 

“Started with chasing a purse thief and then he led us all the way to a drug den where a deal was going on between some pretty important figures,” Shima snorted, pulling out her phone and starting to type on it at once. Hizashi couldn’t really blame her since his phone, and Shouta and Toshinori, were the only reasons he was no doubt still sane. “Seriously, though. You’re quiet as shit. What happened? Another lab blew up while you were stuck on report duty?” 

“Fire, actually,” Hizashi responded, watching with amusement as Shima’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed and studying him. They then widened with sympathy. Even Stardust, half-asleep as she was, made a noise that sounded sympathetic.

“Oh, fuck, I thought I was just joking.” Yeah, that’s what made it even worse, really. “Everyone alright? Any injuries?”

“No injuries, thankfully.” Hizashi collapsed back on the couch, groaning at the flash of pain in his back. “It’s not the worst lab disaster we’ve ever had but add that on top of everything else that’s been happening, and it’s been a long day.” Plus, his sensory overload, flashes of memory, and trauma were all acting up to make the day try and kill him once and for all. 

“We told you, right back at the beginning, to not take that job at U.A.,” Shima lectured, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You already had a full-time job here and with that radio station of yours, and what did you do?” 

“I took the job at U.A.,” Hizashi mumbled, wincing as Shima repeated the words even louder. She truly was his punishment in life.

“You took the job at U.A.! Being a teacher is a lifestyle and you’re doing that with two other jobs! Which are also lifestyles!” Shima made a very dismissive tsking noise, Hizashi cracking an eye open to glare at her. “What? I’m right and you know it. Right, Stardust?” 

The kid cracked her eyes open, blearily staring between the two of them before looking back to Shima, “Sorry, Shima-san, but I refuse to take sides in an argument with pro-heroes when all three of us work in the same agency.”

Hizashi snorted, the serious tone of voice lifting his mood for a few moments, “Smart kid, Shima. She’s gonna be better than you one day.” 

Shima scoffed, beaming and radiating pride as she turned back to her phone, “Yeah, yeah. Oh, you might wanna go get your stuff and get ready to leave, by the way.” 

“What?” Why would he leave? Hizashi still had another two hours of his shift at the agency before he had to head over to the radio station. “Why would I-?”

A loud ping from his phone had Hizashi frowning before he was looking down at it, seeing an incoming message from one of the higher ups. It only took a quick scan of the message to see that he was, not-so-politely, being told that he was done for the day, already clocked out, and that his husband was on his way to pick him up so he could ‘get some goddamn rest.’ Shima gave a proud, beaming grin when Hizashi looked up at her. “You’re welcome!”

“I hate you?” Hizashi looked from her to his phone, feeling a shock of warmth at how much the people in his life cared for him. The fact he was already clocked out meant he legally couldn’t even try to get back on his computer and do anymore work for the day without getting into legal trouble. He was legally being told to get out and go get some rest. “Why are you so mean to me?” Which meant once he finished at the radio station he could go home and cuddle up with Shouta and Toshinori and let their warmth and safety drown out everything else.

“Aw, I see you as a friend, too,” Shima cooed, voice softer and quieter. When Hizashi glanced over, he saw she was petting at her sidekick’s head, the girl halfway to being asleep as she breathed softly. “Seriously, though, Yamada. I know what a rough day looks like, so just… take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Fuck,” Hizashi breathed out softly, pulling himself up with a groan. “I’m going to have to actually get you something decent for Christmas, aren’t I?” The ugly snort of laughter had Hizashi managing a larger smile as he shook his head. “Make sure to get some rest yourself, Shima.” 

“Just as long as you do, Yamada,” she winked, shooing him out so she could coddle her sidekick even more than she already did. Honestly, Hizashi was waiting for Shima to come in with adoption papers with how she was about that kid. 

It wasn’t until Hizashi was halfway to his office that his phone dinged again, this time a message from Shouta with a laughing emoji and a simple, ‘Got kicked out huh?’

‘I was politely told to get the fuck out and get some goddamn rest before I had a heart attack and would need to be replaced,’ Hizashi texted back, trying not to snort as Shouta sent a row of more laughing emojis. It was hilarious that everyone assumed Hizashi was the emoji abuser when Shouta’s texts typically contained an emoji with each line or sentence. ‘You don’t have to come get me.’

‘Too late. Already omw.’ Which meant Shouta had probably left to come and check on him just like Toshinori had even before he had been texted by Hizashi’s agency. ‘Get your things before they lock you out of your office workaholic.’

‘You have no rights to call me that considering your own work ethic.’ Hizashi sent a little emoji of his own before tucking his phone away and heading to get his things. Considering the type of people he worked with, he truly wouldn’t be surprised if they kicked him out before he could so much as grab his bag. They wouldn’t even feel bad about it, they would just laugh at him.

Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to gather the files he needed and head back down towards the lobby, everyone soundly ignoring him. It wasn’t the first time an agency wide message had been sent out to warn people that Hizashi was getting kicked out and, knowing him and his co-workers, it wouldn’t be the last. Hizashi hated and loved every last one of them. 

Hizashi was on the sidewalk when a pair of footsteps fell into step with his own, Hizashi feeling something in him soften and relax at Shouta’s quiet laugh, “Radiant was the one to kick you out, huh? How’d that feel?”

“Like the universe was throwing everything I’ve ever done back in my face,” Hizashi snorted, smiling when Shouta’s shoulder brushed against his own. “I could have finished my shift, you know. It’s not a patrol day.” 

“You could have,” Shouta agreed, looking at him with that look of his that was far too understanding. “But you don’t have to. You’re the one always yelling at me about teamwork and cooperation with others, after all, aren’t you?” 

“That’s because you try to take on two dozen human traffickers without any backup.” That had been far too nerve wracking of a night, in Hizashi’s opinion. Nemuri, at least, had shared in his suffering when Shouta had ended laid up in the hospital with a concussion and a broken wrist.

“Mm, you all were running late.” Ass, Hizashi thought to himself fondly. “I’d ask if we were going home, but…”

“Radio station,” Hizashi finished, closing his eyes for a moment. As much as he craved going home and finally resting, he still had work to do. He wouldn’t let a bad day ruin all the work he and everyone else he worked with at the station had been doing. Besides, it wasn’t a recording or live day, so there was at least that much. 

“You’re lucky you don’t need to record today,” Shouta snorted, reading Hizashi’s mind as he always did. “Alright. Let’s go, then.” Hizashi half-wanted to argue that Shouta didn’t need to come with him, but he knew it was a fight he wouldn’t win. 

Hizashi took a breath anyways, getting ready to gather up the energy he would need to ask about Toshinori, and dinner, and how the students were after Shouta had checked on the dorm. Stupidly, though, Hizashi forgot that he was talking to Shouta.

He hadn’t even gotten a word out before Shouta was talking again, firm enough to be heard, but soft enough to make it easy on his headache, “Toshinori made it home alright, by the way. He also started digging up American Sign Language books, but I decided I didn’t even want to ask since I knew I’d hear about it from you later. He’s also starting dinner. For a man who doesn’t eat food typically, he’s a better cook than I would have thought. 

“Oh, and I think the kid is gonna kill all the troublemakers in 1-A if they keep trying to kidnap him like they have been,” Shouta continued, Hizashi feeling tension drain out of him as he listened to the man’s voice. “They actually had him trapped in the dorms when I went to check on everything before Nemuri took over watch. He was taped to the chair and making at least two of them do handstands.”

Shouta didn’t stop for a moment, talking softly and damn near rambling as his steps kept time with Hizashi’s, not expecting him to say a single word back in response. It was a routine that was years old and familiar enough that Hizashi could let himself get lost in the words as Shouta led them along to where they needed to go. 

His eyes slipped shut for a moment, the phantom feeling of pressure around his throat and leather cutting into his skin damn near gone. He was still exhausted, and stretched thin, and felt like too much at once would put him right back where he had been, but… 

The day was almost over and he had Shouta by his side. As far as he was concerned, he would be just fine for a few more hours.

[vulcan-highblood]

(Blue) Spirited Away

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Pairing(s): Gen Chapter: 4/? Words: 5k Summary:  Prince Zuko wasn’t able to escape the Northern Water Tribe after the disastrous conclusion to the Siege of the North. However, Aang is more than happy to invite his old pal, the Blue Spirit, to join him and his friends on the first leg of their journey to the Earth Kingdom.

(An AU where Aang never learned the true identity of the Blue Spirit, Zuko is desperate, and Spirits enjoy interfering in the lives of mortals)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Read it on AO3

Taglist: @duh-dobrik

Chapter 4: Stalking and Talking

By the time Zuko felt safe moving again, he was so cold his limbs seemed to have locked up. He wasn’t dumb enough to go back to the same house he’d been in before, but that meant he was once again at a loss for what to do. He needed to find Uncle and get them out, but Uncle hadn’t been in the prison, so where could he be?

Zuko half-wished he’d had the presence of mind to ask the Avatar, but a question like that probably would have come across as suspicious.

Well, fine. Obviously he was going to need to do a little reconnaissance in a more populated part of town.

...once he got the circulation going in his limbs, anyway. Damp furs were the worst, and his breath of fire could only do so much. He was so glad Uncle had taught him the technique, or he’d likely be frozen solid by now. The only problem was all the deep breaths weren’t doing his injured ribs any favors, and using his firebending constantly was exhausting.

Zuko’s stomach growled, reminding him his meager meal of jerky and prunes had not been enough. He wasn’t going to be able to sneak around if his stomach was going to give him away, he was realizing. He’d need to take a few minutes to find another house, rummage through the stores, and find enough food for a meal, and hopefully something to snack on so his stomach would stop complaining. He’d never forgive himself if his grumbly stomach turned out to be the thing that landed him in Water Tribe custody.

Moving slowly so he wouldn’t make a dumb move and get caught (his arms and legs still weren’t working quite the way they should), Zuko began picking through the catapult-decimated area, keeping a sharp eye out for food. As usual, his luck was in full swing, because it took him far longer than he’d hoped just to find something to eat. Then he had to find somewhere hidden so he could lift his mask away from his face and actually eat the food. By the time he had found the food and started eating, he realized he was thirsty, too. Which was stupid, he was surrounded with ice, but somehow the air was dry. He considered the ice scattered around, but it was pretty dirty, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about sucking on someone’s wall. Finally, he found a pot. Then he found himself facing another dilemma - did he drink water straight from the canals? What kind of weird things might be floating in that water? Zuko had learned the hard way the kinds of nasty illness that could get you after drinking bad water - he understood after that why Uncle insisted on drinking so much tea - apparently boiling the water made it a lot less likely to give you horrible stomach cramps and force the contents of your stomach out both ends.

He’d been working on his heat production - after all, he’d used it to melt through ice a few times already, so he should be able to boil water without producing a flame, right? Before he could second-guess himself, Zuko grabbed the pot and marched in the direction of the nearest canal. Only one way to find out, and that was to try. He hadn’t gotten this far by wondering about stuff, he’d just done it. After looking both ways to make sure no one was watching, Zuko scooped some water into the pot and scuttled back for the nearest crumpled building, easing into a narrow corner and clutching the pot between his hands. He had to bend the heat away from his hands, so they didn’t burn, but still needed to heat the water, so it would boil and kill any nasty stomach-cramp diseases that might be in it.

He couldn’t tell at first if his heat-bending was really doing the job, but after a few seconds, a wisp of steam curled from the water in the pot. Then, more steam. Bubbles started to form, and Zuko held it at a rolling boil for a few minutes, until he could feel sweat running down his face from the effort of concentrating on bending the heat in the water but keeping it away from his hands. He was about to set the pot on the ground when he realized that boiling hot and ice didn’t mix. He was going to need to keep bending the heat away from his hands, unless - With a sharp exhale, Zuko pushed the heat out and away from the water entirely, causing a bloom of steam to escape the water. It should be right around  Uncle’s tea temperature, now. He hoped. Otherwise he was about to scald his mouth, because Zuko needed to drink something, now. He’d been thirsty before, but now that he’d been sweating  for the better part of a minute, after having eaten nothing but salted vegetables and salted meat for two meals? He felt like he might die if he didn’t have water now.

Predictably, the water burned his mouth. But only a little bit, and Zuko was too thirsty to care if his tongue felt weird for the next hour or so. He did try to bend a bit more heat off, though, because he didn’t want to keep burning his tongue every time he took a sip. Once he’d drank his fill, he stared at the pot, still half-full, wondering what to do with it. It seemed like a waste to discard the water after he’d gone to all the effort of sterilizing it, but it wasn’t like he could bring it with him, he’d have a hard enough time sneaking around the city without lugging around a large clunky water pot. With a longing look, Zuko stashed it in his hiding place, fairly certain he wouldn’t make it back here, but leaving it just in case. If nothing else, at least he now knew he could boil water without an open flame. That was something, anyway.

Hunger and thirst satisfied for the moment, Zuko slunk back in the direction of the populated areas of the city. Now all he needed to do was find Uncle.

~~*~~

It took Zuko longer than he would have liked to find an area where people were actively walking around, and even longer to find a place where he could hunker down to eavesdrop on the people going by on the streets or sailing along the canals.

It was just his luck that he’d only been there for about twenty minutes before the Avatar and his group walked by. Zuko couldn’t hear much, but what he did hear made him start rethinking his current strategy.

“I still don’t know what kind of guest would be more special than the Avatar,” the peasant girl was saying as they approached. “Who on Earth could be so special that Master Pakku was hosting them in his own home?”

“I think it’s less about how special they are and more about not wanting to host a bunch of kids,” the non-bender said, his tone obviously implying that he didn’t count himself as a kid when he made this point. “He’s not exactly good with… Actually, is he good with any kind of people?”

“Master Pakku is an excellent teacher!” the girl protested as they continued past Zuko’s hiding place.

“Yeah!” the Avatar chimed in, “he’s not very nice, but-”

“That’s what I’m saying! Honestly I feel bad for whoever’s staying with him, that can’t be an ideal situation…” And the group turned the corner, quickly fading from earshot.

But now Zuko was thinking. Master Pakku was in charge of the prisoners. He had a “Special Guest” despite an apparent record of misanthropy. Uncle Iroh was still missing.

Zuko didn’t want to believe it, but Uncle wasn’t exactly the General who led the Siege at Ba Sing Se anymore. Hadn’t been, ever since he came back, after Lu Ten…

The point was, it was entirely possible that a master waterbender like Pakku was holding Uncle Iroh captive! And his best chance of finding Master Pakku’s residence had just walked past him.

If it turned out Uncle wasn’t with the old waterbender, Zuko had no doubt he was going to get an earful about this plan. Even if Uncle was there, he’d probably get a few proverbs, a soft frown, and entirely too many cups of calming tea. Ugh, he never thought he’d miss the exasperating advice and hot leaf water, but he did.

Hopefully, the Avatar wouldn’t notice a shadow following him to the master waterbender’s home. If he did? Well, Zuko would deal with that when it happened, he didn’t have time to think about it now.

Slipping from his hiding place, he trailed the Avatar and his posse. It wasn’t hard, they weren’t exactly moving quietly. The harder part was keeping to the shadows when they kept crossing bridges over canals. Slipping from building to building was one thing - trying to stay surreptitious when you were crossing a bridge? Much harder.

A few times, Zuko thought he’d lost them, but again, they weren’t exactly secretive, and he was able to follow the sound of their voices without much trouble. He caught up with them just as they were gathering around a door, arguing over who should try to get the Master Waterbender’s attention.

“He likes you best, Katara,” the airbender was saying, “You should be the one to ask if we can go in.”

“I don’t know about that,” the girl (Katara?) was protesting.

“He doesn’t even know I exist, I think,” the boomerang guy sighed, “I think it should definitely be you.”

The girl was frowning at that. “I still think the Avatar would be more convincing-”

“Oh by all means, continue bickering about who should announce your presence,” the thick furs at the entrance of the house were flung aside to reveal the grumpy old waterbender. “It’s certainly not going to alert the entire neighborhood to your presence.”

“Master Pakku!” the waterbender girl exclaimed. “We came to ask you about Water Tribe legends.”

That managed to take the old man by surprise. “Why me?��� he asked. “I am a warrior, not a story dancer.”

“But you’re an elder, aren’t you?” the Avatar pointed out, which was a nice way of saying the man was old. “I thought all elders know the important stories of the spirits.”

“Knowing them and being good at telling them are two very different things,” the waterbending master replied with a sharp look. “I have had no children of my own to instruct, and the students who come to me are often advanced learners. Most of the tales I tell are those of men, not spirits.”

“Well then who should we ask about the Dark Water Spirit?” the waterbender girl demanded, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at the waterbending master with some measure of defiance.

Zuko was almost impressed. Sure, he was pretty infamous for standing up to authority figures, but he’d also learned the suffering that often followed such insolence. He really hadn’t learned, even in these three years, because he’d turned right around and challenged Zhao, and where had that landed him? Here, stranded in the Northern Water Tribe, with no ship and no crew because Zhao had blown it to smithereens. He’d lost his face (literally, as well as metaphorically, he supposed) to his father’s punishment, and then he’d lost his ship and his crew to Zhao’s retaliation. When was he going to learn?

Shaking his head sharply, Zuko dismissed the thought, returning his attention to the conversation.

“I have heard about a masked figure breaking into the prisoners’ holding area, yes,” the waterbending master was saying, a sour look on his face. Zuko noted with smugness that the man didn’t bother to say he’d been there at the time.

Of course, if the waterbending master had been close enough to actually see Zuko, then Zuko likely wouldn’t have been able to escape, so he pushed aside the urge to smirk and settled back to wait and see if the Avatar’s group was ever going to go inside so he could sneak around to the back of the ice house. If they could keep the master waterbender distracted, it would be all the easier for Zuko to find out if Uncle was here.

“Well we were trying to figure out what it might mean,” the Avatar was saying, “And we thought you would know best, because you’re an elder of the tribe, and a teacher.”

“I teach combat, not history,” Master Pakku grumbled, but it was becoming clear he’d nearly given up on discouraging the Avatar and his water tribe hang-ons. Now he just had to capitulate, let them in, and Zuko could start investigating. “Oh very well, you may come in,” he finally said, tugging the firs aside to allow them entry.

Zuko allowed a small sigh of relief to escape as he watched them bundle into the waterbending master’s house. Once he was certain they’d moved away from the door, he began to creep around it, looking for any other windows where he could listen, or maybe even peek inside.

~~*~~

Master Pakku seemed irritated to be interrupted by them and their questions. Katara had been so excited to come and ask him about the masked person, but now that they were here she began to wonder if they’d made a mistake.

“So what do you want to know?” Master Pakku demanded, settling down on one of his furs and gesturing for them to take one of the other furs scattered around his small house. For an important figure of the tribe, Master Pakku didn’t seem too interested in showing his wealth or influence - which was quite modest of him, Katara found herself thinking absently. She would have expected something more impressive, considering how proud the man was. But perhaps it was the sort of pride in what he could do, more than what he had. She could understand that, it was the same sort of pride she and her brother had. The Southern Water Tribe had very little, but they took great pride in their accomplishments. It was just another little thing that she was coming to appreciate about Master Pakku.

“So I went looking for the mask guy after I heard about him,” Aang began, settling down on the fur nearest Katara before picking up where he’d left off. “And I found him! He was hiding in a hut.”

Master Pakku’s eyes narrowed fractionally. “What was he doing there?”

“Uh, sleeping? I think?” Aang scratched awkwardly at his head as he wilted under the man’s critical eye. “He hadn’t even picked up his sword yet when I got there. But he didn’t try to attack me or anything, he just… left. As soon as I turned around.”

“Tell him about the Fire Nation stronghold!” Sokka urged.

“Right!” Aang turned his earnest gaze back to Pakku. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him!” he exclaimed. “I met him once before, in the Earth Kingdom. I was captured by the Fire Nation, and he broke me out of their cell.”

Master Pakku’s hard gaze grew even more sharp, like a shard of ice. “How do you know the same person who broke you out there is now here?” he demanded.

“Well, he moves the same,” Aang explained, faltering slightly. After all, she and Sokka had believed him right away. They hadn’t thought to really argue with him.

“He was wearing a mask both times, and if someone had similar training, would you be able to differentiate between one warrior and another?” Master Pakku asked.

“Uh… probably?” Aang answered, squirming uncomfortably on the fur. He obviously hadn’t expected the conversation to go like this.

“That’s not why we came, though,” Katara interrupted. “Aang recognized the mask as one of a water spirit. We were wondering if there might be some sort of spirit connection to this person’s actions.”

“A water spirit, yes,” Master Pakku said slowly, “but not a spirit of the Water Tribe.”

“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” Sokka griped from his seat, but a sharp look from both herself and Master Pakku had him quickly backing down. “Fine, sorry, forget I said anything.”

“The Dark Water Spirit - more commonly known as the Blue Spirit - is, in fact, a lesser ocean spirit, but he is not typically found in polar waters,” Master Pakku explained. “He is a spirit of trickery and cunning, who finds pleasure in toying with human lives and has even, at times, taken those lives in the name of La, the Great Spirit of the Ocean.”

Katara turned to look at Sokka. “An ocean spirit that takes lives?” she repeated quietly. Of course, in the Southern Water Tribe, they all knew the ocean was not truly good or evil. Like the tides, sometimes it pushed good favor to them, and other times, it pulled that fortune away. You could depend on the ocean, yes, but it was never safe to trust it completely. The ocean was cold and unforgiving, yet brought forth life and abundance. But a dark water spirit… Katara shuddered to think of the horrors a dark ocean spirit might wreak.

“Yes, although these lives lost are often due to foolishness, absent-mindedness, or a lack of respect for the power of the ocean,” Master Pakku explained. “If you do not respect the ocean, it can very easily remind you of the consequences of such a poor decision.” He turned, then, to Aang. “Tell me, Avatar, have you ever played on the ocean’s shore?”

Aang nodded quickly. “Yeah! It’s a lot of fun, you get to splash in the waves and-” he shut his mouth quickly, seeing the pained look crossing Master Pakku’s features. Katara felt a little sorry for him; Aang was just excited to share, he loved to talk about his experiences. She was a little annoyed with Master Pakku for dimming that enthusiasm. Then again, they’d come here for information, so maybe Master Pakku wasn’t all wrong in his death glare, though Katara still thought he could have let Aang finish.

“And have you heard of a rip current?” Master Pakku continued, apparently choosing to ignore the dirty look Katara was sending his way.

Aang tilted his head quizzically. “No, I don’t think I have,” he answered honestly. “What’s a rip current?” Katara turned to Master Pakku with equal curiosity, noting that Sokka, too, looked more than a little interested.

“Sometimes called the Blue Spirit’s hand,” Master Pakku intoned, “A rip current is a small, surface current - similar to the ones used to navigate the seas,” he explained. “But much smaller, and much more dangerous.”

“How could it be small and dangerous?” Sokka piped up from his seat beside Katara. “If it’s small, it couldn’t really affect any of our vessels, right?”

“Quite right,” Master Pakku agreed, more amiably than Katara had expected, considering Sokka had interrupted him. “However, unlike the poles, in more temperate waters, people often swim on the beach.”

Katara nodded, thinking back to their own fun on Kiyoshi Island, before wincing at the memory of the Unagi. Ice dodging with Bato had been fun, too, but they hadn’t really had much time to play in the sea water.

“Wait a minute,” Sokka said, his voice sharp. “Are you telling me… the current takes people?”  

“Sometimes it just knocks them down and rolls them around a bit, sometimes it drags them out into deep water. Sometimes, those people never make it back to shore,” Master Pakku answered, his eyes serious. “A rip current is a dangerous thing, but if you know what signs to watch for, you can avoid it. As is the case with most trickery, a keen eye for detail and a firm head on your shoulders will help you avoid most of the troubles headed your way.”

Katara nodded, frowning as she considered that. “So a trickster spirit who kills people…”

“Or just likes to play tricks on them!” Aang interrupted. “A trickster, you said. So they aren’t evil?”

“What is evil, to the ocean? What is good?” Master Pakku replied. “The Ocean is, and you must respect it. If you don’t, sometimes people get hurt. You don’t call a polar jaguar evil if it kills a man, for it is in a polar jaguar’s nature to kill and to eat. You blame the man for not approaching his hunt with the necessary caution and respect to subdue such a beast. The Ocean is like that, too. You must approach it with caution and respect, and should you lose your life to it, perhaps you have not respected it as much as you should.” Master Pakku nodded firmly to emphasize his point.

Sokka was nodding along with Katara - they’d both grown up knowing this, but it was still a difficult concept to think about, especially when there was a person out there taking the guise of a killer trickster spirit. Because while the Ocean may not be evil, people sure could be. Katara frowned, slowly bringing up that point. “So if the man in the mask is disguising himself as a trickster spirit of the ocean…”

“He must be against the Fire Nation! I mean, water and fire are opposites, right?” Aang looked hopeful. “He helped me once before, I’m sure he’d help us again if we needed it.”

Master Pakku looked about as convinced as Sokka, which wasn’t much. Katara wasn’t sure she agreed with their skepticism, though. Anyone who was helping Aang escape the Fire Nation couldn’t be all bad. Sure, whoever it was wore the mask of a trickster. They might be tricky, then. That was a lot better than the Fire Nation, which really was evil! As far as she was concerned, tricky beat evil any day.

“We don’t know what that man wants,” Master Pakku replied, “And I urge you to approach him as you would the ocean - with caution, and respect.”

“I can do that,” Aang promised, with a speed that made Katara wonder if he really meant it. “I just wish we could find him-”

At that moment, as if by providence, they heard a crashing sound and some yelling from just outside.

“Hey! You there!! Stop!”

“It’s the masked intruder! Get him!”

“Master Pakku! The masked man!”

By the time the third person had finished shouting, all four of them were piling out of Master Pakku’s house and into the street, where they saw - a man, not very big, bundled in pale furs, dual swords drawn, with a blue spirit-mask tied over his face.

And Aang, of course, couldn’t resist stepping in, breezing his way past the warriors to stand right in front of the sharp swords of a man wearing the mask of a trickster spirit. “Hey! Masky! You came back!”

~~*~~

If Aang looked surprised to see the Blue Spirit Mask Guy, the Blue Spirit Mask Guy (Sokka was going to have to figure out some better shorthand, that took way too long to say) looked way more surprised to be confronted with a bubbly airbender. Which was fair, as he’d obviously been gearing up for a fight with some guys who must have caught him sneaking around. 

Actually, now that he considered that, why was the guy sneaking around? What was he after? Was he looking for someone or something in particular?  

“Avatar Aang,” Master Pakku called exasperatedly, “Those are swords.”

“I know, cool, right?” Aang replied, gesturing to the gleaming steel with a wide grin, obviously having completely missed the point.

In fairness, the Blue Spirit Mask Guy (ugh) looked as exasperated as Master Pakku, which was impressive considering all he had to work with was his body language. Sokka considered getting a few pointers - he’d kill to be able to express sheer exasperation through a slouched shoulder or two.

Slowly, which was probably a good idea considering he was facing down some heavy hitters in the form of Master Pakku, Aang, and Katara, the Blue Spirit Mask Guy (Blue Guy? Mask Guy? Ugh) slowly sheathed his swords and lifted his hands in the air.

“Where did you go before?” Aang was asking the guy, apparently not having absorbed any part of Master Pakku’s suggestion that the mysterious Mask Guy (yeah no he wasn’t feeling it) be approached with caution and respect.

Oddly, the Blue Masked Guy (that's a negative) gestured briefly, waving his hands in a small circle before pointing to the street. Sokka had no idea what the guy was trying to say, and it seemed like Aang wasn’t too sure, either, because he tilted his head as if scrutinizing the Mask-Wearing Menace (nah) before brushing the matter aside. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here now,” he declared, grabbing the Blue Spirit’s arm (still not quite doing it) and dragging him towards Master Pakku, Sokka, and Katara. “Hey guys!” he called as he manhandled a man who seemed almost twice his size past the first of the three Water Tribesmen who had sounded the alarm, “This is the guy who saved me from that Fire Nation fortress!”

Sokka hadn’t realized it was possible for someone to look embarrassed while wearing a mask, but this guy’s cringe was on point. He looked like he was shrinking into himself more with every step closer that Aang took. Sokka was about to remind Aang to proceed with caution and respect when Katara stepped forward.

“Hi,” his darling, idiotic sister said, approaching Aang and his Masked Friend (not that one, either). “I’m Katara. Thank you for helping Aang, it means a lot to us.”

If Masky (it would do, for the time being) could have melted into the ground, at this point he probably would have. At least, it sure seemed that way. He nodded jerkily, before shuffling into an awkward Earth Kingdom style bow. Huh. Interesting. Sokka noted Katara filing that information away as well, and felt a small flush of pride. She was annoying, sure, but she was still his sister, and she was smart and capable. He’d never ever admit it to her face, but moments like these, he was glad to be her big brother. “And I’m Sokka,” he added, joining the group because it seemed like the situation was pretty well defused at this point (at least the swords had gone away) and he figured a bit of solidarity was in order. “And you are?”

Masky shrugged one shoulder, gestured briefly with his hands, then shrugged again.

“Can’t you talk?” Katara asked, sounding concerned. “Are you hurt?”

Masky shook his head in a negative response, pointed to his throat, gestured low to the ground (about toddler height), made a slashing motion at his throat, then shrugged again, as if to say it was something from when he was young. Pretty impressive gesture work, all things considered. “So what do we call you, then?” Sokka pressed, not willing to let this one drop. He was not going to keep calling him Masky.

Masky had the audacity to shrug, then point to his mask.

“I am not calling you Masky,” Sokka declared.

Masky recoiled a bit, as if he hadn’t expected that, then pointed at his pants, next.

“I’m also not calling you pants,” Sokka added. “Or any other clothing or accessory.”

Masky gestured exasperatedly for a second before pointing at the sky, his mask, and his pants in rapid succession, then pointed at Sokka, Katara, and Master Pakku. This confused all of them.

“I gotta admit, I am totally lost,” Sokka said. “I guess Masky it is.”

Masky made a sort of strangling gesture in the air, then sighed, nodding slowly.

“So… Masky,” Master Pakku said dryly, wincing slightly as though the word Masky left a bad taste in his mouth, “Why are you here?”

Masky made an exaggerated gesture of looking, lifting a hand up to his forehead and gazing dramatically to the left and the right.

“You’re looking for something?” Sokka guessed.

Masky nodded sharply, then lifted his left hand up over his eye and wiggled his fingers.

Aang and Katara exchanged confused glances with Sokka, but Master Pakku seemed to figure it out pretty fast.

“You’re looking for the Fire Nation Prince, Zuko?” he asked.

Masky nodded a few times, then gestured as if setting something aside, and stretched his arms out wider, as if he were more bulky, then pantomimed drinking tea.

Master Pakku’s eyes narrowed as he said, “And his … Uncle?”

Masky nodded again.

As surprising as it was to hear that there was someone apparently pursuing Aang’s pursuer, Sokka had a bigger question. As far as he knew, Pakku had been out fighting the invasion when Zuko and his Uncle had shown up.

So how did he know they were here? And if he knew that they were here, why wasn’t he looking for them?

[thadelightfulone]

The Firm - Chapter 7

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Summary: Erik has been hired to find an embezzler for an old friend. Now, the investigation begins.

Pairing: Erik x Black!OC

Genre: Suspense

Words: 7K

--- 4 Years Earlier ---

Matt enters the warehouse, not knowing what to expect. He received a phone call earlier that afternoon at his office about an opportunity to earn more money from his job. It sounded official even though he knew the voice wasn't Mr. Green. He had heard around the office that Green had pet projects that he would invite people to join from time to time. He finally had the chance to move up in the office, and he wasn't going to turn it down.

He looks around and sees a desk in the middle of the warehouse floor. The person at the desk has their back turned to him and is flanked by two big built men. Must be the guards. Wait…why are guards at this meeting? Am I the only one here? He glances at his watch. He was right on time. He approaches one of the chairs in front of the desk. One of the men walks forward asking him to raise his arms. I am getting frisked, what the hell? The guy nods to his partner who looks at the person in the chair behind the desk.

“Have a seat, Matthew. We should talk.” Matt sits in the chair with his hands on his knees to keep his legs from shaking. The chair spins around. “How would you like to work for me?”

“Uh, I thought this was a meeting with one of Green’s people for a special project.”

"Oh, it is a special project. Just not with Green. Although he is involved.” They stand to walk over in front of him. “So, are you interested or not?”

“I was told that I would get three times my yearly salary. Is that true?”

Shaking their head, “Money talks, I understand.” Sitting on the desk and pulling over a few sheets of paper, “Have a look.” Matt grabs the papers. “For the duration of this project, you will receive monthly paychecks that will equal three times your current salary with Greenbridge. Of course, that is on top of your salary from him as you will still be working there.”

Matthew has been working for GBI for five years and barely made senior funds manager. He had to jump through hoops just to get his supervisor to notice him and approve the promotion. This opportunity is coming at an excellent time for him. He plans to propose to his long-time girlfriend, Laura, and knowing her as he does, she will want nothing less than the finest and most expensive for her dream wedding.  

“Wha-what do you want from me?” He puts the papers on the edge of the desk.

“What do you know about Green, Matt? Do you know why he started his business?”

“Uh, Green is married, no kids. And the company is about 10 years old, linked to his interests in giving back to the community. He loves helping others and giving away money.”

“Really? So, why did it take you so long to move up?”

"I never said he loved giving it to those who work for him. The companies he works with allow him the opportunity to give out money, which makes everyone look like saints, him included."

"Smart man," nodding, "You are perfect for this job." They stand up and move back behind the desk. “Let me lay this out for you, and then you can make your decision.” Sitting down and pressing a buzzer, “We’ve been watching you and have handpicked you for this assignment.”

The door to the warehouse opens and closes. And Matthew nearly breaks his neck turning around to find out who the mysterious person in front of him just let into the open space. “Aaron! What the hell are you doing here?”      

“Sit down, Matt, and let me tell you about your new job.” Aaron walks forward and takes the other available seat. “Aaron works for me. His job was to find me someone with position security at GBI to participate in a long-term,” twirling their hands with a lavish flair presenting the many diamonds lacing their fingers, “endeavor.”

"My position is still in a probationary period since I was promoted last year. I don't have this security that you speak of; I could be gone tomorrow if Green or someone else make that decision."

"Not true. I have put you in a position to be exactly where I need you to be." Opening the right desk drawer, the only sounds in the big warehouse are of a gun cocking before rising from behind the desk. A shot rings out, and the chair that Aaron was sitting in falls back to the ground, blood spreading around it.

“Oh my god, you shot him! Why?”

"Like I said, you are where I need you to be. At this point, Green or whoever handles HR will be searching for an immediate replacement for your Team Leader. Why not pick the person with the most seniority on the team?” nodding towards Matt.

“Sandi has more seniority than me.”

“But she is the newest analyst on your team. Listen to me, Matt. Aaron finally had you promoted for this reason. But he no longer serves a purpose for me in the grand scheme of things.”

Matt looks over at Aaron’s lifeless body. He worked with this man for the last three years and never figured him to be a plant. But now, it seems they want him to be the new inside man for whatever they were already working on. “I- I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You don’t have a choice, it’s either you get with the program or meet the same fate as Mr. Aaron here.” Standing up, Matt is pulled up from his seat. Linking arms, they walk to the front door where a town car is waiting. “Join me for dinner to celebrate your second promotion this year.”

The driver opens the door for them, and Matt looks at his new boss before climbing into the car.

Over dinner, Matt is given the specifics of his assignment. There is a particular fund that his team oversees, a scholarship fund from which his new boss would like him to embezzle funds. Since he will be chosen as the new team leader, he is in the position to manipulate the reports after receiving it from the analyst, transferring the money to accounts linked to his new boss. He will make sure that the trail, should anyone discover the fraud, leads to the analyst in charge of that account’s maintenance.

--- 6 months later ---

Matt is sitting in a bar, at a booth in the back with a direct view of the front. He sees the goons before his boss walking in from a back entrance.

“What was so urgent, you could not wait for my next call?”

“We have a problem.” The boss signals for him to continue, “Stacey is gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” Raising a hand towards Matt and speaking to one of the bodyguards, “Get me a Scotch and Water, please.” He turns to leave and get the drink. “She is still on GBI’s payroll.”

“Yeah, but she is not in our department anymore. Green officially moved her out last week. She is now his executive assistant.” Matt looks down at his legs, running his hands over his thighs.

Scoffing, "Damnit, he liked her work on the project." The requested drink is set down on the table. "Thank you." Picking up the glass, and taking a sip, “Have they replaced her yet? We can work with HR.”

Matt looks up and shakes his head. “HR has started a search, but I don’t know much about it. Normally, I would be brought in because they are replacing a member of my team, but I know nothing. That is what is bothering me. Stacey was supposed to –"

“Yes, I know.” The boss cuts off Matt. “And now she isn't, and we have to find a new scapegoat. This new person will be taking over all the accounts that Stacey had, correct?"

Matt nods, “I think so, and I mean they are not changing tasks for any of the other team members, so I figured that they are leaving it alone."

Sipping a bit more and then placing the drink on the table, “Ok, then we wait for the replacement and get more information on them before going forward with moving the money.” Standing from the table, “Thank you for letting me know. I can see that you will not fail me in the long run." The boss leaves out the back, followed by the goons, and Matt grabs the drink to finish it off.  

--- 3 Months Later ---

Nails tapping on the desk on top of an open manila folder, looking at pictures of the girl while waiting for the phone to pick up. “She is perfect. Her connection to them will bring the whole empire down.”

“Hello.”

“Yes Matthew, thanks for the information on the lovely Miss LaNyah Cole. I have found out what I needed to know. She is good to go. Start next week.” The caller hangs up as Matt looks at the burner phone. The boss just told him to start altering the weekly scholarship reconcile reports that LaNyah is in charge of, which means the boss made her the new fall guy. Matt throws the phone into his desk drawer, watching as the skittish woman in question walks past his door.

“LaNyah, just the person I need to see.” He stands and walks to his door, making sure he has her attention, ”I wanted to talk to you about the GBI scholarship, there have been some changes to how we will process the reports starting next week. Do you have a few minutes?”

She looks up at him over the binders in her hands, “Ummm, sure. Let me drop these off, and I will be right back. Say 5 minutes." He nods in agreement, and she continues to her office across the floor.

--- Two Days Later: Thursday Morning ---

Erik is in the office working on a list before his scheduled meeting with LaNyah at 9. She has spent the last two days working in the conference room, still uneasy about being in her office after her run-in with Matt. He clenches his fist, thinking about the irritating man he encountered. He set LaNyah up, and Erik wants to know why.

Staring at his list, he pulls the background file he has on LaNyah from his briefcase. He uncovered an incident that happened her junior year of college that Ashley never brought up during their conversation. But he knows that was what sent her to need Ashley’s help in the first place. No wonder, her circle is small, if you count having Ashley and Green around as her circle.

LaNyah has no further contact with her mother and is basically on her own because her father died when she was younger and she was their only child. This information is not something that Matt would know, but if he is working with someone, they may have figured it out. She is a single, black female. She is alone, and no one would miss her if she ended up in jail on embezzlement charges.

LaNyah has an accounting degree, which gives her knowledge on how to create those spreadsheets and reports. Her position allows her to keep a close eye on the accounts that hold the money before the checks are cut. She would be able to alter those at will and cover any tracks regarding the movement of funds to different accounts.

Her access to Green would make it seem like he is stealing from his own company. Her connection to him, which can be discovered based on his treatment of her and how she was hired, also makes it look like it is a job from higher up. No one is going to believe that this young woman who is basically an orphan got the bright idea to steal from her boss on her own. But her boss could steal and make it look like the orphan had all the means and opportunity to do it, and let her take the blame, especially if he uncovered it himself.

--- 15 Years Earlier ---

Stevens and Green noticed that their superior officer was absent from all the chaos surrounding them, finding Bridges after she was assaulted. They both tried their comm devices just to see if maybe he was out testing along with them. He did leave before the rest of the team, stating he had a phone call to make. Everyone figured it was something back home that drew his attention away from the current task. It is probable that he had Bridges give him a comm to test upon his return.

Lee, their team medic, called for assistance. Everyone was currently waiting for the medical team to arrive and for other officers to show up for the investigation they knew was coming. Green stayed by Bridges’ side as they waited and Stevens along with Daniels walked the property to see if they could find any tracks that don’t belong. As Stevens made his way back to the front of their quarters, he sees McCoy walking up looking clean and refreshed.

“Where were you, McCoy?” Stevens barked at him.

"Watch your tone with me, boy." McCoy hears the helicopter preparing to land nearby. “What the fuck happened here?”

“Bridges was attacked while we were out. We heard the commotion over our comms and got back here as soon as we could.” Daniels responded while Stevens just stared at McCoy. There was something that did not feel right about McCoy’s countenance as he stood before the two men.

“Yeah, Lee called the Medical Team and another CO since you were nowhere to be found.” Stevens walks toward the group getting out of the helicopter.

“I got this Stevens.” McCoy follows behind him, grabbing his shoulder.

Stevens shakes him off, glaring at him. “You don’t know anything about what happened.”

“I said I got this. Stand down, Stevens.” McCoy continues walking to the medics and greets the other COs who arrived with them.

--- 3 Days Later ---

Stevens and Green have been discreetly watching McCoy and his actions since the incident. Bridges was taken away and is recovering in a separate location. They may clear her to come back to her assignment, or they may send her home. She was unable to give any clues about her assailant but thanked her team for getting to her as soon as possible.

Word came down that they are sending another communications person in the meantime so as not to hold up their ongoing operation. They were supposed to start their current mission a day ago, but everything has been put on hold until their new team member arrives. Green and Stevens are sitting on their beds, after completing an afternoon run. Everyone else is tending to their own business with the extra free time on their hands. McCoy was acting like the ever-present and concerned CO, so he has been riding back and forth with the officers investigating the assault.

“He has a history of harassing his female officers.” Green pulls out a small notebook, looking over what he has written. “Isn’t he married with kids?”

“Yeah, but when has that ever stopped a man who travels overseas for months at a time?" Stevens responds. "He definitely perpetuates the whole' out of sight, out of mind' mentality that most servicemen abide by when out of the country."

Shaking his head, Green adds, “He worked with Bridges earlier in her career. It was before he was given command of this team.”

“So, there was truth to his comment about requesting her for his team.” Green nods as Stevens continues, “Are any of the complaints from his overseas missions?”

“No, all complaints were stateside, and all the women who have filed complaints never saw any time overseas.”

“How long ago did he take control of this team?”

Green looks at his notes, “About 18 months before we came on.”

"Sounds about right. He would have had to prove himself worthy of being able to pick his team. A year of successful short-term operations would be enough."

“Son of a bitch!” Green shouts, “He planned this all along.” Stevens nods as Green puts it together. “He kept tabs on her so that he would be able to bring her overseas and do whatever he pleased, and no one would be the wiser.”

“Correct, our wonderful CO is a true fucking predator. Although, not that smart.”

“Why do you say that?”

Stevens stands and stretches, "He did not realize that people would be watching his interactions with her. He is used to a team that only does their job and leaves everyone behind. I’ll admit, that is what I am known for, but something about what we saw when we introduced ourselves to her; it rubbed me the wrong way. Especially when I noticed there was no other female on the team.” He walks over to a table near the door. “And he was stupid enough to insert himself into the investigation when he was not around in the first place."

“You really think –“

“That he has been planning the perfect attack on someone he has wanted for so long? Yes.” Twirling the pen attached to the clipboard on the table. “He moved further along in his predatory behavior because he figures no one would care.”

Green looks down at his notebook. “Predatory behavior? Takes one to know one. No offense.”

"None taken. I know my reputation proceeds me. So yeah, I can clearly see how he set this up for his benefit." He turns to look at Green, who is now looking at him from across the room. "This was probably his first time putting it into action." His eyes darken as his voice grows deeper, "And it will be his last."

Shaking his head, Erik stops his recorder and puts everything pertaining to his investigation in his briefcase. As he locks it up, he hears the elevator chime. LaNyah has arrived for the day and their meeting. He looks at her, wondering if he bit off more than he could chew. Being a private investigator is one thing, but he has never been someone’s personal bodyguard before. Yes, it is clear that she needs someone looking out for her in Green & Bridges’ absence. But if Matt is not working alone, then that means someone might just come after her, especially if they figure out that she knows about the embezzlement.

How is he supposed to find the real embezzler and protect her at the same time? Is it possible to keep her out of harm’s way as he closes in on the person behind this attack on Green? He hasn’t felt the need to protect someone like this since Bridges. Sighing and running his hands along his dreads, but he also didn’t find himself attracted to her either. LaNyah is an altogether different story, and he doesn't have the time to sort it out.

Jumping up from his desk, he walks into the conference room from his office where LaNyah is putting down her stuff for the day.

"Good morning, Erik," LaNyah smiles up at him.

"Morning. Can I get you anything before we start our meeting?" Erik asks, crossing over to the outer door of the conference room.

“I’ll take lemon tea with some honey. Thanks.” She goes back to setting up her workspace and pulling out her notes for their meeting.

“Sure thing.” Erik walks out of the conference room, greeting Stacey on his way to the coffee bar. “Hey Stacey!”

"Good morning, Romeo." She giggles and points to the machine, "You need some help?"

“For one, I need you to stop that.” He looks over to where LaNyah is, “She may hear you. And two, I think I can handle making a cup of tea.” He stares at the machine, looks over to his right at the tea packets, then back to the machine. “Is this thing on?”

“Seriously?” She gets up and walks over to him. “You see the menu on the screen?” She points to the LCD screen on the top right of the machine, and Erik nods, “The fact that you see it means it is on.” She shoves him with her shoulder, “And I know you know I turn it on each morning, you ain’t slick.” She moves about showing him how to make tea using the machine since he has only ever used it for coffee. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Stacey looks at him then at LaNyah, she looks down at him like he’s small. She hovers over the teas, glaring at him.

“Try again.” He waves her off and grabs the lemon packet. Stacey adds it the container and closes the lid; it starts brewing. She looks over at him like she is waiting for his real answer.

"It's nothing that I can't handle, ok." They both turn to the machine as it dings, indicating that the cup of tea is done. He picks up the cup, "Thanks, Stacey." Grabbing some packets of honey, he walks away.

"Any time, you are ready to share. I am here." She watches him shake his head as he reaches the door; she fixes herself a cup and returns to her desk.

Erik enters the conference room, and places her tea on the table, "Here you go. I'm gonna get my notes, and we can start." He drops the honey and a spoon next to it before heading back into the office.

LaNyah picks up a honey packet and squeezes it into her cup, “Thank you, Erik.”

He reaches his desk and takes a few deep breaths. Feeling a bit more settled, he grabs his meeting folder and his coffee before walking back into the conference room.

Sitting down to start the meeting, they exchange polite pleasantries. LaNyah brought in some folders and opened the conference room laptop for her update on what she had been working on over the last two days. LaNyah shares her updates on the account activity since she noticed the funds disappearing. Concluding her portion of the meeting, she mentioned that they still needed to get the reports from her office per his request from earlier in the week.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” LaNyah looks towards him, “Well, more about working here in the conference room.” He watches as her eyes grow big and then she looks down at the table.

"I'm sorry I will go back tomorrow. I just needed –"

“No, no, that’s not what I – Ok, let me try this again.” He waits until she finally looks his way, “I just wanted to gauge how you were feeling about going back to your office. You can work in here for the whole assignment if it makes you more comfortable.” He sees a soft smile emerge.

"Thank you, Erik. I just want to take it a day at a time."

“And that is fine with me, I understand. But I was hoping that you might wait a week before returning.”

She scrunches her face in confusion, “What, why?”

“I want to work out of your office next week. You have a prime spot to watch the floor from your office. I was hoping to complete some of my tasks from there if that is ok with you?"

“Oh, uh, I guess if you want. I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Great, and I can look over the original reports while I am down there. So, we won’t have to bring them back up here.”

“Works for me.” She sits down as Erik stands to share his preliminary findings.

"I wanted to start by letting you know how much I appreciate your help in this investigation. Your clear and concise reports including all the details of the accounts that hold and distribute the scholarship checks; it has all been instrumental as I figure out the angle I need to conduct my part of the investigation.”

LaNyah blushes at the praise. No one besides Mr. Green and Ashley have been on her side and shared in her personal triumphs. So, to have someone who doesn’t know her comment on her work ethic from a professional standpoint is new. It’s a pleasant feeling to know someone trusts her to do what is asked of her. Even Matt is kind of an asshole about it. She starts twirling one of her colored pens so that she doesn’t have to look at Erik.

He is watching her reactions to his praise. She is not used to that kind of attention. She isn’t looking at him anymore. He softly chuckles, observing how she decided to keep herself present but not under his intense stare. He rolls his eyes and picks up his notes; he's gonna have to be more aware of how he looks at her. He is aware of how he can appear to others, and he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable when they need to work together — just another thing to add on his list when it comes to LaNyah.

Erik begins by going over how he wants her to deep dive between her originals and the live reports in the system. Nyah is writing in her notebook, making notes of things that she should look further into for the accounts and any current activity on them. They have not been stopped just yet.

"It has not been decided, but Green may freeze activity on the accounts linked to that scholarship fund. I figure the reason he hasn't yet has to do with the fact that it will tip off whoever is involved here in the office." Erik continues speaking as LaNyah starts drawing swirls along the perimeter of the page she was writing on.

She misses his last statement and shakes her head when she looks down and sees that she did not write what he said. Oh no, this is not good. She raises her hand, which causes Erik to grin as he addresses her. “Could you repeat that last part?”

"Sure thing, after freezing the funds?" LaNyah nods her head, he backtracks, "I said that Green knows this goes above you simply because the account reports that you reconcile are reviewed after you complete the data entry." Nyah starts writing again as Erik moves forward with the rest of his thoughts on where he must focus the investigation.

Nyah puts her pen down and looks at Erik, who is still talking. His lips are moving, but she is not hearing the words, just this soothing vibration and humming that she recognizes from when she is trying to reach a place of calm and relaxation from intense moments. If she isn't careful, she could fall asleep listening to him. She takes a sip of her tea to clear her head, inhales and exhales quickly before picking up the pen, and tries to focus on what Erik is saying.

Erik briefly discusses his intent to investigate the entire accounting department, but the main focus is on her team since the fund in question is under their purview. He mentions that he will have to have a one-on-one conversation with her to make it official, and Nyah only nods her head in understanding but has not heard a word due to the calm tone of his voice. Nyah’s mind drifts as she keeps her eyes on him -

Looking out across the park on a warm summer day, LaNyah is sitting on her favorite blanket under a tree in her favorite park. She watches the families and pets run around having fun in the sun. Red glasses on with a matching jumper, she leans back on the tree with her legs crossed. She reaches over to pick up her book when she notices someone walking over to her. She smiles when she focuses on Erik making his way over with a picnic basket. He is dressed in a black tank that shows off his solid build and some black shorts.

He gives her a peck on the cheek before setting everything down and getting comfortable on the blanket. He sits across from LaNyah, and together they clear the basket. It is filled with some of her favorites - chicken salad sandwiches, tortilla chips w/ guacamole and salsa, chocolate chip cookies, some raspberry ice tea and water to drink. Looking at their spread, Nyah fixes a plate for Erik who smiles at her letting his deep dimples show along with some gold-capped teeth. She jumps at the sight.

Erik has been waving his hand in front of LaNyah’s face for the last few minutes. When she didn’t respond to his question, he noticed her gaze flicker before her eyes closed. She was so zoned out that she had him worried. He walked out of the office, "Stacey, could you come here for a moment?”

Stacey walks over, "What's up?" She looks over at LaNyah, who is sitting up straight in the chair with her eyes closed. “Did you hypnotize her?”

He glares at her, “No. I was in the middle of my report and asked a question. When she didn’t respond, I looked up as her eyes shut.” Stacey moves in front of LaNyah and snaps her fingers. No response. “I have called her name and waved my hand, but nothing. What should we do?”

They stand there watching her when suddenly her eyes start fluttering and then she jumped back in her seat. When Nyah finally looked up, she noticed both Stacey and Erik watching her with concerned faces.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you, Erik.”

"It's all good. I'm just glad it wasn't something else." LaNyah looks down ashamed by her actions. "Hey, it's ok, LaNyah. It happens to everyone."

Stacey observes how Nyah is not making any eye contact with Erik, but there is a slight flush to her face. She puts her hand on her shoulder. "I should have warned you. He is a typical boring boss man. The kind that makes it easy to be bored to death in a meeting." LaNyah laughs along with Stacey and Erik but still does not look up at them.

“Alright, and on that note. I think we can end this meeting today.” He grabs his notes and coffee, waving to the table, “It’s all yours.” LaNyah just nods and moves the laptop in front of her blocking Erik’s view of her.

Stacey follows him out of the conference as he makes his way back to the office. He sets his things down, and she sits down, trying not to laugh. "I mean this is the nicest way possible." Erik looks up at her, "You are both dangerous and in danger."

“Ok, Miss Perceptive, what gives you that idea?” He sits behind the desk, giving Stacey his undivided attention.

"She was not asleep." The look he gives her lets her know, he knew that already. "My thoughts are that it was a daydream." He scratches his beard, "And it was probably about you."

“Now, I know you are buggin’.” Shaking his head and laughing.

“Am I, though?” She looks up at him and stands. She straightens up her skirt, “Send me your lunch order. I’ll take her with me and give you some time to yourself.”

She reaches the door, ready to open it, “Stacey,” she turns toward Erik. “Thank you.” He looks over at LaNyah in the conference room head in the laptop, just typing away.

“No problem. I got you both.” She walks out the door back to her desk.

Erik stands up and walks over to the window behind his desk. Looking at the bright sunny day overlooking downtown Irvine. He breathes out, "I don't need this right now."

--- In Sydney, Australia ---

Sitting in their hotel room after spending the day relaxing on a beach, Bridges is staring at Green from her spot on the couch. She was enjoying the great weather and the opportunity to not think about work and her caseload. Except thanks to this man, she has to think about one case in particular or rather a good friend. Who is she kidding, LaNyah is more like family than anything. Straddling the line between daughter and kid sister, the latter due to their age difference. But she has never connected with any of her clients like she did with LaNyah.

She wanted to be there for someone like others, which is how she fell into her current line of work as a PTSD/PTSS and extreme sexual assault counselor. She took on the worst of the worst; cases no other counselor wanted to touch for fear of not being able to handle it. Bridges thinks about the consequences of her own assault and how she wasn't able to continue working in the field of communications, her first love. However, she found that even though she couldn't do it any longer, it doesn't mean that she could not help others find new passions or continue to be able to work in their current occupations which they love.

When Ashley met LaNyah, she reminded her of herself. Just like how communication techniques breathed life into Ashley, she noticed that was numbers for LaNyah. Finding out that LaNyah was working on an Accounting degree when her last traumatic episode occurred, Ashley knew she wanted to help her get back to a point where she could enjoy the chance to work with what brought her comfort. LaNyah took a full year off from school to recover, but she did the work, and Ashley made it known that she would have the support that she needed to have a career in the field. It helps when your husband owns a company where a significant number of his employees maintain multiple business accounts with millions of dollars coming and going daily.  

Green walks over to the couch and sits down next to Ashley. He puts her legs on his lap and starts rubbing her feet. He trails his fingertips up her legs, reaching her thighs, causing her to laugh. She suddenly sits up and pulls her legs under her. She leans forward mean-mugging him. He shakes his head at her and tries to reach for her again.

“Come on, Ash.” She is pouting and has her arms crossed over her chest. “You cannot still be mad about Stevens.” She scoffs and sits back against the couch. “Look, I was going to tell you,” lowering his voice, “when we got back home.”

“I heard that.” She takes a pillow and hits him over the head. “I cannot believe you would do this to her.” She looks down and shakes herself to keep calm. This whole thing has her wound up and going into Mama Bear mode. Something she hasn’t had to do since LaNyah left the program.

“Ashley, she will be fine." He grabs her hand, and she lets him. "You can't coddle her forever. She will need to adjust to changes, especially work-related ones." He rubs his hands over her one. “Just think if I want her to lead a team one day, or at least become a lead analyst where she oversees one or two people.” Ashley nods her head.

"I get that; you want her prepared to move up in the company." She smiles at him. He is guaranteeing her job security at GBI, and she knew that already, but it was nice to hear him say it and not just because Ashley presented it that way in the beginning. "But this has nothing to do with the workload and the job itself."

“Then what has you ready to bite my head off? The best man we know for the job is protecting her, and he happens to be a skilled investigator who can help uncover the other details of the embezzlement. She is covered, I promise you.”

She pulls her hand out of his hold, standing up and starts pacing the room. “It’s Erik.” She looks at him, throwing her hand up to stop him from interrupting her train of thought. Because of course, he wouldn't understand. "You have seen what he looks like, right?"

"What kind of question is that?" He rolls his eyes, and Ashley gawks at him. "Ok, the man is built like a brick house. He fits the typical tall, dark, and handsome trope. So what?"

“LaNyah.”

"What about her?" Green takes a moment before answering his question with a loud bark of laughter. "Oh, you can't be serious?" He continues to laugh as he looks at her.

“Stop laughing, and I am serious. This is her first adult crush, and I do not know how to handle it." Ashley frowns at him. She is worried about all the things happening around LaNyah being too much for her to deal with, even using her usual calming and grounding techniques. Her mind drifts back to her lunch date with Nyah, and when she discovered her little crush on him.

Green tries to catch his breath. “So, she has a crush on him.” He grabs his stomach. “It was bound to happen at some point. She is a beautiful young woman, and it is natural for her to have some form of attraction to another.” He slowly stands up and walks over to her. Wrapping his arms around her, “At least she has good taste in men.” She smacks at his arms.

“You sir, are an ass.”

"I'm your ass." He sways the two of them, "Besides, I don't think you have anything to worry about, Stacey seems more his speed. No harm, no foul."

Ashley turns around in his arms, “No harm, no foul? Do you know what you are saying right now? LaNyah has a crush on Erik. A crush that could grow, the more they work together, one on one.” Green shrugs as she continues, “If he ends up dealing with Stacey on a romantic level –,“ she lets her statement fall off, hoping he will catch her drift.

“And? They are all grown adults.” Ashley backs out of his arms, shaking her head.

“I don’t know why I even bother.” She walks onto the balcony for some fresh air. “Maybe because I know what it feels like to crush on someone and have it fall flat.” She turns around to face him as he stands at the open doors, “This is going to have an impact on her Alexander. Regardless of what happens, I am concerned for her safety, mentally and physically. That is my priority. You both protected me and the same way you did that for me, and I am going to do it for her. She has no one.”

“She has us. And well, now she has Erik too.” It doesn’t make Ashley feel any better, but he does have a point. He walks forward, “Look, we cannot control things like this. You of all people should know that.” He points between them.

She laughs, "Oh, you mean how you made it seem like Stevens was feeling me, and it was really you?"

“Aye, you don’t have to bring it up. I’m just saying you know feelings and situations can lead to some interesting outcomes.” Ashley grabs his hand and drags him onto the balcony. "She is in good hands. Erik is not that insensitive that he would take advantage or something."

“We haven’t seen him in over 15 years.” She stands beside him. “Last, we knew he was still very much a playboy.” She laughs, “Or a fuckboi, as some of my girls would say.”

"You haven't, but I have. Just like him, I’ve kept tabs on every team member. He was at your graduation. Still rocking a military cut, back then. But I doubt that he is the same, not the man who stood in front of me days ago.” He leans against the railing. “I am not worried about LaNyah because you have prepared her for dealing with anything and everything that comes her way, including men. This is just one of those things we have to let her deal with, ok.” Ashley nods and leans on his shoulder, “If she needs us or we see her crashing, you know we will be there to support her in any way she needs us.”

“You really think it’s time to let her go?”

He turns Ashley to him, “Hey, who said we have to let her go? I know how much she means to you, especially after all that we have been through together. You knew when we signed up to help her reintegrate after her stay, that we basically adopted her. I love her just as much as you do. I just know we cannot hold her back from growing into the woman we know she can be."  

Ashley wraps her arms around Green, “I didn’t even deal with the diapers, terrible twos or teenage years, and now I have to let my child grow up.” Green chuckles as he pulls her into his chest. She inhales deeply, “LaNyah will be fine. Everyone who knows her loves her and those who don’t would be privileged to make her acquaintance.”

"That's right, baby girl.” He kisses her forehead, “Now, can we eat?" His stomach rumbles, and Ashley laughs.

Chapter 8

Taglist: @killmongersaidheyauntie @dacosmicdame @muse-of-mbaku @panthergoddessbast @youreadthatright @princessstevens @amethyst1993 @stark-red19 @kreolemami @bidibidibombaclaat  @iamrheaspeaks @missumuch1918 @simplyyamberr @cheychey10142 @ajspencer1892 @chrismarcs @loosewindmill @sydneebleu @semianta @eyeknowmywrites @alexundefined @itsjustmezari @goddessofthundathighs @purple-apricots @kissmyafropuff @gimmeface​ @fonville-designs​ @jozigrrl​ @soufcakmistress​ @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​ @missshae​ @localtrapgod​ @post-woke​  @theesotericqueen

[ladynonsense]

A Royal Disgrace (TRR/PM Crossover) Part 7

Catch up on my masterlist

Sorry for the long wait! We’re nearing the end, and I’ll try not to drag this out too much longer :)

Pairings: Damien x Liam, Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley, Damien x m!Kai

Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)

Summary: Damien’s not sure why Liam invited him to this ball, Kai visits the police station to share intel, and Riley has a rough night.

Tag List: 

@hustacks @hopefulmoonobject @brightpinkpeppercorn @perriewinklenerdie @pixieferry @nazariobae @zaffrenotes @ritachacha @h3llostrang3r @choiceslife @blackcoffee85 @wannabemc2 @sleepwalkingelite @debramcg1106 @furiousherringoperatortoad @bobasheebaby @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @hopefulmoonobject

Words: 1900

Diplomats milled about, swarming Liam as politely as possible, everyone wanting a piece of the handsome young king on his first visit to the U.S. since his coronation.

Damien perched at a standing cocktail table in the corner, frowning.

What am I doing here?

A small, perfectly manicured hand appeared on his shoulder. “What’s a grumpy P.I. like you doing in a place like this?”

He turned to face Riley, a genuine smile on his face for the first time since he’d arrived. “I was just asking myself the same thing. How’s your night going?”

Riley shrugged, sighing. “Not the greatest, to be honest.” She gestured towards the general direction of Liam, his fiancée Madeleine on his arm, pointedly not turning to look. She grabbed Damien’s drink and took a swig.

“Can I ask you something?” He pushed his glass towards her, gently encouraging her to keep it.

“Sure, why not?”

“Do you want to marry him?”

She stared at him for a long moment, mouth agape. Damien gave her an apologetic smile, but let the question continue hanging in the air.

“Of course I want to marry him,” she answered finally. “He’s...he’s Liam.”

They both looked across the room at Liam. He caught their gaze and gave a small wave and smile. “Liam is great,” Damien agreed, “but it’s not just Liam. It’s…” he gestured towards the crowded ballroom, “...It’s all of this. Fancy balls, press conferences, living in a palace, every aspect of your life judged and scrutinized on a national, if not global, stage. Are you sure you want all of that?”

Her expression turned cold, her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me this.”

He laid a hand gently over hers. “Because I care about your feelings, Riley. Liam’s too. You’re good people, and I just hope…” He noticed Drake approaching from behind Riley’s back. She turned to see him before looking back to Damien.

“Hope what?”

“Hope you figure out who you want to be with.”

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

Kai left the police station charged with adrenaline. He pulled out his phone to text Damien.

K: Your buddy at the station is HOT. Why didn’t you tell me?

D: He’s straight. And married.

K: That doesn’t make him any less fun to look at.

D: So did you talk to him about the investigation or just look at him?

Kai rolled his eyes at his phone before hitting the call button. He didn’t feel like typing out a full report on his phone, and it would be nice to hear Damien’s voice, anyway.

It rang several times before going to voicemail. He hung up just as another text came through.

D: Can’t talk. Sorry.

K: OK they have Drake’s statement from this afternoon and everything Bastien had on Stathos. Hot Stuff seemed excited. Call me l8r for deets?

D: ok

He sighed as he tucked his phone into his pocket and hopped on a bus for home. It was always fun when Damien enlisted him as his assistant and he’d get to play detective for a while. But it was a lot more fun when it meant working with him, rather than going out and doing the dirty work while he did...whatever he was doing.

Going to fancy balls. Having a secret affair with real-life royalty. Investigating high-profile murders. None of this made sense, not for Damien, at least not for his Damien.

Kai caught his own reflection in the bus window and frowned. He’d never been one to lack self-confidence, but it hurt that Damien had friend-zoned him for nearly four years and then jumped into bed with a guy who resembled him but...better. A little more handsome, a little older, a lot richer. Ten thousand dollar suits, bodyguards outside the door, elaborate galas...was that what Damien really wanted?

Did he even know him at all?

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

Damien tucked his phone away, smiling. “The police are thrilled with your intel, Drake. With any luck you’ll have blown this thing wide open for them.”

Drake nodded, taking a small sip of whiskey. “I just want to see whoever’s responsible behind bars. Stathos and whoever’s paying him...I just need this to end.” He shot a pained look at Riley.

“Me too,” she said softly, squeezing his free hand in hers.

Damien coughed awkwardly. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air.” He headed for a large, quiet courtyard off of the ballroom, the night too chilly for anyone else to be out there.

He was staring blankly into a fountain, contemplating his next move, when he heard familiar footsteps behind him. He stood perfectly still, waiting for him to say something, not knowing how to act around him here.

“You came.”

Finally Damien turned to face Liam, trying not to show how his body reacted to the sight of him, so close. How the corners of his mouth pushed upwards against his will, his heart raced, his breath became shallow and… “Yeah. You invited me.” He sat on the edge of the fountain, gazing up at Liam, all dressed up in god knows what...sashes and medals and long, formal coat tails. Damien was suddenly very aware of how underdressed he was, even in his best suit.

Liam’s gaze, fixed firmly on him, didn’t seem to mind. “I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you personally earlier.”

“It’s OK. Riley’s kept me company.”

“Ah, excellent. Well…” Liam’s regal bearing faltered for a moment, his eyes suddenly not meeting Damien’s, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. He recomposed himself quickly and Damien frowned, wishing the playful and passionate man he knew would break through the carefully controlled facade.

Not here. It was too much to ask for him to be himself in a place like this. It might look like a party, but Liam was very much on the job. Damien cleared his throat. “Well?”

“Well…I suppose I should leave you to your investigation.”

“There’s nothing to investigate here, Liam.” Damien took a small step closer to him, almost too close, but not quite a scandal. Or maybe it was...were there rules about how closely you could approach a king? He was so far outside his element he had no idea how to behave. He stared down Liam anyway. “Kai’s doing the investigating and I’m just...here.”

“Then why did you come?”

He didn’t answer, just held his gaze, licking his lips absent-mindedly.

Liam stared right back, barely breathing. “Follow me.”

Damien followed him along the wall of the building to a small, dark alcove just off the courtyard. In the dim light he could only see Liam’s outline, leaning against the wall. He reached for him and took his hand. “Is this OK,” he whispered.

Liam lifted his hand to his lips, kissing it softly.

Damien chuckled. “Such a gentleman.”

“I never feel like a gentleman around you.” Liam pulled him closer, and now he could see his dark eyes shining in the night, fixed on his.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Probably not.”

They stood staring at one another in the dark, close enough to listen to each other’s breath, no other sound but the white noise of the city, seeming so far away. Liam started to lean in, but Damien turned his head, listening. He held a finger to his lips, straining to hear a voice in the distance.

“Not here. The security, the bystanders, your daughter is here, for fuck’s sake…”

Liam gawked at Damien in disbelief. Damien stared at him in wide-eyed panic, hoping his face was communicating what he needed it to. Don’t move. Don’t speak.

The voice grew closer as it continued. “Maybe as she’s headed back to the hotel later...I have to get out of here before I get recognized by security. I know, sir. Your Grace. Of course...wait...is that…?”

Another voice cut through the night, much louder, and much too close. “Liam? Are you out here?”

Damien was running before he had time to think, crossing the courtyard in a few seconds that felt like an eternity.

There’s no way. I’ll be too late.

His body crashed into hers as he tackled her gracelessly to the ground, hissing an apology in her ear as she fell hard on the ground, gasping for breath underneath him, eyes wide with horror.

No gunshot.

He looked up and saw Liam, righteous in his fury, kneeling on the back of a man in all black, pointing the man’s own gun at the back of his head. Damien gasped. “Liam!”

“Stathos,” he responded bitterly, digging his knee deeper into the man’s back, causing him to cry out in pain. Liam’s guards were already pouring out into the courtyard, two of them efficiently disarming and cuffing Stathos while another two whisked Liam away into the night without a word.

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

“Riley!” Drake was suddenly in front of her face, kneeling over her. He offered her his arm and helped her to sit up, shaking off the daze. Her head hurt like hell and she gasped desperately for breath, but none came. Drake fussed over her, gazing into her eyes. “Breathe. You’re OK. Jesus, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Riley,” Damien sputtered, backing away to give her some space. “I was trying to protect you from him. God, if Liam hadn’t gotten to him first...I’m an idiot.”

She finally caught her breath, a small sob the first sound that escaped her lips. “Thank you,” she wheezed. “Just knocked...the wind…”

“Shhh.” Drake stroked her hair, pressing his forehead to hers. “Just breathe.” She collapsed into sobs in his arms, all her fear and pain and shock and relief coming out in a mess of tears that soaked his shirt.

When she’d just about worn herself out, Drake and Damien helped her to her feet. She frowned at her dirtied ball gown, knowing it would cost her more to dry clean it than she had ever even spent on a dress before going to Cordonia. She wouldn’t have to worry about these things if she became queen.

At what point did “when” become “if”?

She shook the thought of her mind, Drake already speaking to her. “...back to the hotel…”

“Absolutely not.” Damien cut him off abruptly. “Before Liam took him down, hitting her on the way back to her hotel room is exactly what Stathos was planning. We can’t be sure no one else is coming for her.”

“Oh god,” Riley moaned, burying her face in Drake’s chest once more. “I can’t live like this.”

“Come back to my place,” Damien offered. “I can sleep on the couch. You can’t go where anyone is expecting you.”

Drake eyed him skeptically. “I don’t know…”

“You’re welcome too, of course. Everyone just needs to lay low until we’re sure everyone involved is in custody.”

“Liam…” Riley cut in, not really knowing what she wanted to say.

“He’s well taken care of,” Damien assured her. “Whisked off by some guards that can keep him safer than I can. But I’ll do what I can for you, if you’ll let me.”

She nodded resolutely, her head starting to clear. “I trust you.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of here.”

[thepurebredking]

CHANCE ENCOUNTER w/@DarksDestiny

#ChanceEncounter

Destiny:

Scrolling through the job ads for the Caldwell are, I made a note of a couple but being that I am limited to evenings only, there weren’t a lot of options besides bars.  I have done the bar/club scene more than I care to mention and really didn’t want to go down that route again.  There were several waitress positions around the area and the one for Sal’s sounded promising.  A waitress/hostess position which listed the hours needed were for later evenings.  It was a place to start anyway.  I decided to change into something nice and head down to apply in person tonight.  No time like the present, right?  As I stared at my reflection, a memory from the past popped into my mind as they often do any time I wear anything white.  I was in the sanctuary all dressed white waiting to be called to service that one special male again.  I shook the thoughts from my mind and went to my bag digging for shoes.  Being back in Caldwell was sure playing havoc with my mind.   I picked up my phone and made a quick call for a taxi and then made my way to the lobby to wait.   There were several people rummaging around and I felt like all eyes were on me.   The taxi arrived and the trip to Sal’s was actually shorter than I thought.   Just ten minutes out.   That will be good for the time being.   I walked into Sal’s and asked for the manager and when a very attractive male walked over and I introduced myself and brought up the job.   The position had not been filled and he asked me to follow him to the office towards the back. The place was extremely busy and very few tables were empty.  After a short interview, he asked when I could start and I told him anytime as I had just moved back to Caldwell and have no other commitments at this time.    He said he would let me know in a few days and walked me out of the office.   He offered me a seat at the bar towards the back of the restaurant which I happily accepted.   I hadn’t had a good meal in a few days and my stomach was growling through the whole meeting just from the smell.  I ordered a drink and the special for the night then pivoted on my stool to look around the restaurant.  I noticed the private section of the restaurant and heard male voices coming from that direction, even laughter.  I couldn’t help but be curious about who would be sitting back there.   One voice came through the rest and it gave me chills. It was a familiar voice but I wasn’t sure why.   Must just be my imagination.  

Wrath:

Vishous, Syn, and Peyton had decided that things had been way too strenuous on me lately and I needed a night out. My only stipulation in agreeing was that we didn’t head out to one of the many nightclubs in town. That, they determined, was a fair request. It was one thing to get out of the manse to blow off some steam, it was totally another to bring the King of the race straight to any one of the nightclubs that the new lessening society knew we, as Brothers, spent time. Not that I was a slouch by any means, but I was blind, and in a place where the music was so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think, I was at a severe disadvantage, especially seeing as this new breed of lessers didn’t have quite the stench that the others did. You barely knew these ones were coming.

So, in the end, the males elected for Sal’s. A smaller scale restaurant, with a bar, subtle sounds of traditional Italian music rolling off the speakers, and incredible eats. Yeah, I could deal with a night of that.

We weren’t there 5 minutes before iAm came out to greet us and make sure we were happy with the service. He ensured us that we were being taken care of by only his best wait staff. But, to not hesitate to ask for him, should we feel his employees were not meeting our needs. We assured him that the staff was taking excellent care of us and he need not worry. Once reassured, he took a load off and joined us at the table for a couple, okay a few drinks on the house. It wasn’t long before we were all enjoying the time, outside of the manse, away from the stressors of my job and the fight we had been dealing with on the daily for what seemed like eons. It was as if we had carved out this one night and set it aside from everything. It felt easy to just relax for the brief moments of time we had here.

Destiny:

As I sat waiting for my dinner, the old saying curiosity killed the cat kept running through my mind.  I was definitely curious about who was back in that section. But I didn’t feel like I could actually take a peek though.   My dinner was delivered and I tried my best to put the thoughts of the males’ bantering out of my mind.  The man who interviewed me came back over to where I was seated. He brought with him another male and introduced me to him letting the male know I had applied for the open position. He was iAm and apparently the male in charge.   He had a few questions of his own as to experience and my availability during the day.  I explained quickly that I would only be open to an evening position. Before he could say anything else, a male from the private section walked out and I immediately knew who he was. Well, not who but what he was. He was one of the Brothers I had seen during my visits to the mansion.  His intense crystal gaze went from me to iAm and he motioned to the room behind him.  I sunk in my seat sure he would have no idea who or what I was.   That was the last thing I wanted to happen.  iAm followed the male and I took a deep breath staring down at my meal wondering if I should just leave.   But again, curiosity was coursing through my veins and I wanted to know who else could possibly be there.  

Wrath:

As soon as the meals came out from the kitchen, iAm got called back to work. He promised to come back out and check in with us, one more time, before we finished up and disappeared.

Conversation stayed light for about 15 more minutes before business got brought up by Peyton. The kid never learned. Always wanting to know, what was next? How were we going to hit the fuckers, now? You know the old saying, “He’s got ants in his pants?” Yeah, well, this was the type of kid they had in mind when they came up with it. He never stopped. Every chance he got to bend my ear, he did. I’m not saying the kid was brimming over with ideas. It’s just that he had that ram kind of mindset. The one where you go into every situation, guns out and blazing. He never understood the whole process of planning out a strategic attack. V, in his usual frustration with him, got up and walked off for a time. He can only take so much of Peyton, once the kid starts going.

I let him ramble on for a bit, before Syn finally cut him off. “Jesus, fuck, kid! We’re here, at a restaurant, trying to enjoy a nice meal. Don’t ya think he hears enough of that shit back at the manse? Chill your ass out.”

I could hear Peyton shift in his seat. “Whatever, man.” All these years later and the kid still felt out of sorts around Syn. I guess it was good for him to have a healthy respect for us, more experienced warriors.

A few minutes of awkward silence and V came back to join us. “Good, you’re done. I’ve got dessert headed our way.”

Destiny:

The grumbling in my stomach answered my question about leaving.  Not until I ate the pasta that had been placed in front of me.  I pulled out my phone and pulled up additional job opportunities while I ate.  This place would be perfect for me but I’m not sure I would get the job.   If they want someone who is available during the day too, I’m not an option.  This has to be the best pasta I had ever eaten and I actually ate every single bite.  I ordered dessert and a glass of wine and kept scrolling. My attention only partially focusing on my phone.  I kept wishing the male from the manse would come back out and bring along whoever is back there with him. I did not expect anyone to recognize me for who or what I was, which was a good thing.   I wanted to stay independent but I thought maybe, just maybe, I would recognize the others.  I shook my head not even sure why that would matter. I didn’t want that part of my life back.  Maybe it would just have given me a feeling of security.  Something I have not had in a long time.  My dessert was delivered along with the wine and I sat back, watching the waiters and staff.  This place ran smooth and classy.  Glancing down at my dessert and then my phone I realized I had been here for over two hours.  I asked for my check and if my dessert could be packed to go.  It would be another lonely night and I guessed my dessert would be my bedtime snack.  The waiter asked me to stay a bit longer as iAm wanted to speak with me again and he was just checking in on some guests who would be heading out for the night and would be over in a few. Obviously I said I would.

Wrath:

The dessert in this place had always been my favorite, everything from the cannoli to the Italian ice, to the tiramisu. The tiramisu being my all-time favorite. There were nights that Fred would drive all the way into the city, just to pick up some of Sal’s tiramisu. He’d been trying to bribe iAm for the recipe, for years, but iAm wouldn’t budge. So instead, Fred would trek all the way here just to get me one slice. Tonight I savored every bite.

V had been right. I really needed this night away. Even if it were just for a few hours and out to Sal’s, it had done exactly what he said it would. It had given me a small break in what had seemed to be a never ending shit storm that we had been experiencing, as of late.

iAm boxed up a few more desserts for us to take with and we collected our jackets and began to head out. As we filed through the dining room, I caught a whiff of a scent that literally stopped me in my tracks. It was rose-scented jasmine, wrapped up in the sensation of silk on my bare skin... and it stank of memories of Beth’s death. I had never sensed such a conflicted disturbance in my life. On the one hand, my cock was straining against the strength of my leathers, and on the other, I wanted to vomit up the whole of my meal and start a mass destruction of everything in the place. I could feel the aggression taking control as a massive growl grew from the depths of my gut.

“Woah, man.” I felt a shove from behind. “What say, we get you out of this place and head home? True?”

It was enough to shake me from my thoughts long enough to get my feet moving again.

Destiny:

(I was just taking a last sip of wine as my eyes caught the males in the reflection in the mirror behind the bar. A couple of males I did not recognize lead the way heading directly behind me and then I saw him and I almost dropped the empty glass.  He was as I remembered him.  Massive in stature and the aura of his power and royalty were obvious. My pulse increased and I felt the urge to fall to my knees before him but I did not move.  My eyes watched his reflection as he walked closer heading towards the door, the crystal-eyed male on his heals.  He walked right behind me and just as he passed me, his steps faltered for just a moment and I swear I heard a growl but then the male behind him spoke and they moved to the door and were gone.  

My heart was racing and imagines of the feedings, his sorry and pain flooded my body.   All of the emotions hitting me as it has then.  iAm suddenly appeared beside me starling me.  He said the job was mine and I could start as soon as I wanted if I was truly interested.  I’m not sure if the look of shock on my face was from the job offer or because the past had just slapped me in the face.  I needed this opportunity and I accepting hoping I hadn’t just made a grave mistake.  Could I keep my identity a secret? He asked me to come back the following night for training and I agreed then picked up my purse and to-go bag and headed to the door.  As I stepped out, I scanned the street wishing for another glance of those males.  Shaking my head to stop those thoughts, I stepped into the shadows and dematerialized back to my hotel room for the night. 

#ChanceEncounter #ISBDB

[alexskylar]

Welcome to my World

An erotic tale by Alex Skylar

Bella knew something was wrong before she even stepped foot in the bedroom. The first sign that something was off was the car parked on the street in front of the house. It was nondescript, a little old with a faded green paint job and one hubcap missing. The car itself wasn't unusual, but they lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood that was off the beaten path. Most of the residents parked their cars in their driveways, and visitors usually did the same. When people did park on the street, it was always in front of the house they were visiting. So why was this random car parked in front of her house?

Bella shrugged off the oddity and grabbed her purse, then headed toward the front door. Usually Fridays were one of the busiest days in the catering industry. There wasn’t a lot going on this weekend though, so her boss had let her go home early. It was only three in the afternoon, which left her a few extra hours before her husband John came home from work.

The next sign was waiting for her just inside the front door. She saw one of her husband’s t-shirts sitting in the middle of the entryway, with pink shirt lying next to it. The odd part was the white lace bra hanging from the doorknob of the coat closet nearby. It looked like John had tried to wash some clothes but hadn't actually gotten all of the clothes into the laundry room. The only problem with that idea was that the bra wasn't one of hers.

Before the truth of it could hit her, a soft moan floated through the house, coming from the hallway where her bedroom was.

It was a woman’s moan.

Her feet started to move toward the sound, while her heart sped up and her mind began to spin. The moans continued, and with every step, she moved faster. She was steps away from the door when her husband’s voice joined his partner’s overtures.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned.

Bella rounded the corner and found herself looking at her husband, buck naked on top of some blonde bimbo.

At first, they didn't notice her. Bella stood staring blankly as John plowed this woman she had never seen before. She couldn't understand it. They had been happily married. Everything was great. They had even had sex last night.

Now he was cheating on her.

Bella’s mind was consumed by rage. Her blood began boiling and every muscle tightened. She was going to attack, and nothing would stop her.

Her keys were in her hand, and just as she pulled back to throw them with every ounce of force she had, the girl looked up at her and screamed. Her hand whipped forward and they flew threw the air, striking John in the side of the head. He yelled and rolled off of his playtoy, then looked up at his wife with a shocked expression.

Bella didn't wait for him to speak. She grabbed a vase from the hallway table and chucked it at him. The girl was still screaming as he ducked to the side and avoided it by mere inches.

There was nothing else nearby, so Bella hurried into the room and toward the dresser. She grabbed the alarm clock and yanked the plug from the wall, then turned to hurl it at whoever she saw first. The girl had already jumped out of the bed though, and she scrambled naked out the door and down the hall.

Bella could deal with John later. She chased after the bimbo, following her to the front door and out onto their front doorstep. The girl booked it across the lawn, still completely naked and covering her privates with her hands, as the alarm clock sailed brought the air and crashed into her car. She hopped into the driver’s seat, but she had forgotten something. Her keys were still inside the house.

Suddenly, John bolted out the door past his wife. He had paused to throw on some pants, and he had his girlfriend’s keys in his hand. Bella had nothing to throw, so she began screaming at him with everything she had.

“Get the fuck out and don't come back, you useless piece of shit!” she cried. “I hope you fucking die!”

He slipped into the passenger seat and jammed the key in the ignition. The car started and the tires squealed as they sped off.

Bella stood on the doorstep, still in shock. A few neighbors had poked their heads out to see what was going on, but she didn't care. Her life as she knew it had just ended, and she fell to her knees crying.

 A year had passed since that day, and Bella looked back on it with fond amusement now. They had only made it a few miles before a cop pulled them over and arrested the girl for driving naked. There was something bittersweet about knowing that little detail.

John would later admit that he had been carrying on an affair for almost six months. There was no coming back from that, and Bella wanted nothing to do with him. They divorced, and she had done quite well in the settlement. Life moved on, and she had somehow kept going through the darkest part of her life.

Now things were looking up. She was eating healthier, working out regularly, and just feeling more healthy in general. John had been toxic to her and she had never even realized it. Now that he wasn't dragging her down, she had excelled in almost every aspect of her life.

Bella had not yet started dating, but instead put all of her energy into her work. That was how she had moved up to the position of event manager, overseeing a crew of chefs and waitstaff at different events. The event manager was the big boss whenever they were outside of the main office, and she took pride in being one of the best in the company.

It was a beautiful Spring day when she was called in to run one of their biggest events. A local businessman was holding a fundraiser at his luxurious mansion off in the hills of an obscure Massachusetts town called Belton. She had never even heard of it before she was assigned to the event there, so she arrived an hour early to scope out the location before the event started.

When Bella got there, she was greeted by a heavy wrought iron gate that had been left open for the guests. Following the directions her boss had given her, she made her way up the driveway and took a right where the road forked. The path to the left took the guests up to the main entrance, but this one wound around the back of the property to the kitchen entrance. That was where her staff would be unloading.

As she got out of her car, a small, flustered man in a black tuxedo came rushing out the door to greet her.

“Thank god you are here,” he said frantically. “My name is Bryan. I’m the event organizer for Mr. Singleton. He is extremely anxious about this event and I need everything perfect! Where’s the rest of your crew?”

“They are on their way,” Bella replied calmly. “We weren't scheduled to be here for another hour, but I wanted to get here ahead of time to see if I needed to do any prep work beforehand.”

“Early?” Bryan replied, exasperated. “They were supposed to be here an hour ago. My email said eleven in the morning!”

“No,” Bella said, still keeping her cool. “The message sent to us said one in the afternoon.”

“Oh, great,” he said, burying his face in his hands. “I must have typed it wrong. If you can get them here as soon as possible, that would be great. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Mr. Singleton, so we don't want a misstep.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Mr. Singleton before,” she replied, pulling out her phone to ask her crew to leave earlier.

Bryan stared at her, dumbfounded.

“How have you never heard of Kevin Singleton? He’s all over the news and tabloids every other day. The Beast of Belton?”

It suddenly dawned on Bella who he was talking about. She hadn't made the connection to the name of the town, but now it all made sense. Singleton was known for his aggressive business tactics, which had made him into a billionaire by the time he hit thirty. He often made business deals that resulted in massive layoffs, and always showed little empathy for those who got caught in the wake of his actions. As long as he made a profit, that was all that mattered.

Singleton also had a reputation as an abusive womanizer. Several female employees had filed sexual harassment charges against him, but somehow they all seemed to fade away before they made it to court. The rumor mill claimed that he would simply pay the women to go away, while others said that he would make the victim’s lives a living hell until they gave up on their claims. Either way, the cases always disappeared before they made it to court.

Now Bella understood why Bryan was so flustered. Her heart began racing and her palms were sweaty, but with a few deep breaths, she pulled it together. She was a professional, and she always did her best. There was no room for errors, and even more so today. With a few texts, she made sure her crew would be there with time to spare.

By the time the guests started to arrive, all of the prep work was done and the wait staff was passing hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Within a few hours, they had finished their work and were cleaning the kitchen before they left. Once again, Bella had pulled off a miracle and made it work, even when the mistake wasn't hers to fix.

As the afternoon wound down, Bella was bent over the stove scrubbing away with her staff when the kitchen door swung open abruptly. A towering man in a finely-tailored suit came charging in, with two men in tow. One of them was Bryan, who looked incredibly nervous and agitated. The other was unfamiliar, but he seemed much more calm and relaxed as he busily scribbled notes in a small organizer. His hair was slicked back, and he would occasionally glance up to peer at her over the top of his thick-rimmed glasses.

Bella recognized the taller man from his many appearances in the news. His jet-black hair was carefully combed and contoured. He had a handsome face, but it was hidden behind an angry scowl. The Beast of Belton looked like he was on the warpath.

“Where is Mr. Barbeaux?” he asked haughtily.

“It’s Miss Barbeaux,” Bella proclaimed proudly, setting her rag down and approaching the billionaire.

Mr. Singleton had a look of disdain on his face, but when he turned toward her, she saw his expression falter for a minute. He looked her up and down carefully, then crossed his arms across his chest like a spoiled child.

“It's my understanding that your staff was an hour and a half late today. Would you care to explain yourself?”

“Actually, sir,” she said smugly, “we were given the wrong start time. Once I was made aware of the mistake, I had my crew here a half hour early and still managed to keep our operation running on time with the schedule I was given.”

“Milton, who was responsible for giving them their start time?” Mr. Singleton asked, his eyes never leaving Bella.

“That would have been Bryan’s responsibility, sir,” the third man replied, and they both turned toward the nervous event organizer.

“A mistake like that is unacceptable,” Mr. Singleton told him bluntly. “You're fired. Perhaps you should look for a new line of work. Event organizing doesn't seem to be a good fit for you.”

Bryan began to stammer in his own defense for a moment, but he knew there was no point in squabbling. With the Beast of Belton, once something was done, it was done. There was no coming back. He lowered his head and left the room without another word.

“You handled yourself very well today, Miss Barbeaux,” Mr. Singleton said, turning back toward her. “Thank you for your hard work. I’m very impressed.”

Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heels and breezed out of the kitchen.

Bella inhaled deeply, realizing she had been holding her breath during their encounter. She returned to her work, but a few moments later she was interrupted again when Milton returned on his own. He handed her an envelope with the remaining payment for the evening.

“Mr. Singleton has a dinner this Thursday evening, and he asked me if you could attend to the catering for the evening. He will offer double your usual fee, but he would like you to run the evening. Would that be a possibility?”

“I believe we are available that evening, but I would have to check the schedule when I get back,” she said.

“I would suggest saying yes,” Milton advised her. “Mr. Singleton can do a lot for your company, and he doesn't like to hear the the word no.”

He turned to leave, but Bella was quick with her reply.

“From what I saw tonight, I don't feel very confident about saying yes, either.”

Milton stopped and turned slowly toward her. He stepped a little closer, watching her sternly.

“Mr. Singleton is not as bad of a boss as some people might have you believe,” he said, speaking in slow, measured tones. “He does ask for careful attention to detail, and I will tell you that this was not Bryan’s first mistake. Don't be so quick to judge. Bring your staff here on Thursday and see if you still think that. If you don't feel comfortable after that, I will remove you from our lists and make sure you are never bothered again. Does that sound fair?”

Bella paused for a moment to contemplate it, then nodded. If the schedule wasn't open, she would make sure it was. This was a great opportunity to expand her personal client base, and she couldn't complain about getting paid twice her usual fee. It was worth the chance, and it was only one evening.

 By the time Bella had gotten back to the main kitchen, Milton had already emailed her all of the details for Thursday. It was a simple menu for a dozen guests, so she would only need a barebones crew. She was still a bit nervous, but she knew she could handle it.

Once again, she arrived early to make sure everything was in place and ready to go when her crew arrived. Now that she knew what was at stake, she had dressed in server’s attire so she could bounce back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room. That way she would be able to keep an eye on every little detail.

When the first dish was ready, Bella grabbed one of the plates and pushed through the service door. She found herself standing in a long, dimly lit hallway lined with display cases. The other servers had already been to the dining room to set the table, so she followed them down the hall until they pushed through the door at the end. The room beyond was a spacious one with lofted ceilings over a huge wood table. A sparkling chandelier cast long shadows across the wall, giving it a spooky feel. Despite the dire atmosphere, there were a dozen men in suits seated at the table

Mr. Singleton sat at the head, and Bella headed toward him while the other servers delivered their plates to the remaining guests. As she set his food down in front of him, he looked up and gave her the faintest smile before returning to the conversation. She perused the table to make sure everything was in place, then ducked out the door after the rest of her staff.

As the evening progressed, Bella continued to serve Mr. Singleton herself. He gave her that faint smile each time, but his gaze seemed to linger a little longer as the night went on. There was something behind his smoldering blue eyes that captivated her.

With every trip down the hall, Bella would look into a different display case. There was one in particular that stood out to her. Every shelf held several books placed on stands with the front of the book facing outward. It was the only case with a lock on the door, and Bella found herself wondering how valuable these old books must be. After delivering the last course to the table, she lingered a little longer to try and get a closer look. One particular book was all by itself on the topmost shelf, and she stood on her tiptoes to try to get a better view.

“That's one of the earliest printed versions of Grimm’s fairy tales,” a voice spoke, startling her.

Bella spun around and found Mr. Singleton watching her intently with his hands in his pockets. Somehow, he had managed to make it most of the way down the hallway without making a sound, and she suddenly panicked when she realized she had made a huge mistake.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she said apologetically. “I was just admiring your collection. I love old books, and it caught my eye.”

“Please don't worry like that, Miss Barbeaux,” he said, chuckling as he approached the display case. “I can't be mad at a fellow book lover. They open us to a whole new world, and show us dark details of the human condition that we might not have considered otherwise. This book is the perfect example. Did you know that the Grimm brothers didn't consider themselves writers? They didn't make up these stories themselves. They were tales that had been passed around orally for generations, and they simply wanted to collect them in one place to preserve their memory. These stories have inspired countless others, and you can't really put a price on influence like that.”

“Certainly not,” Bella answered. “I never knew that.”

Her nerves had started to calm, but she didn't want to be rude and just walk away, so she lingered for a moment.

“Do you read often?” he asked her.

“Almost every night,” Bella admitted. “I love being able to escape to another world and just forget my problems for a little bit. It's quite freeing.”

“I feel the same way,” he said solemnly. After a brief pause, he changed the subject. “You did an excellent job this evening. My colleagues were very impressed with the food and service, as was I. I hope you will continue to provide us with your services in the future.”

Mr. Singleton turned and walked slowly back toward the dining room. When he got to the door, he stopped and turned back toward her slightly.

“There was a few issues with the placement of the dinnerware at the beginning of the meal. The guests didn't notice, but I did. Please make sure to check before the guests are seated next time.”

Then he was gone.

Bella felt her cheeks burning red. He was right. She should have checked the settings before they had sat down at the table. If there was a next time, she wouldn't let that happen again.

 Over the next few months, Bella was called back to the estate in Belton to oversee dinners as often as every other week. Each time, she checked every detail meticulously and made sure her servers did the same.

Whatever the group was that she had been called on to serve, they seemed very secretive. She began to notice that whenever the servers entered the room, the conversation would fade away quickly. Their business was none of hers, but she did find it intriguing that they would be so covert that even a fragment of conversation wasn't allowed when others were present.

Bella’s interactions with Mr. Singleton were infrequent, but he would sometimes stop to thank her for her hard work. Every now and then he would correct some minor mistake, but he wasn't overly rude or overbearing when he did. The Beast of Belton seemed pretty tame to her, but that didn't mean she didn't occasionally see his darker side with his other staff. The only one besides her that seemed to be immune from his controlling behavior was Milton, who never seemed to make even the slightest mistake. He had adapted to the whims of his boss and was very adept at making sure the anger never fell on him.

After one particularly successful dinner, Bella was cleaning up with the rest of the staff when Milton made one of his rare appearances in the kitchen.

“Excuse me, Miss Barbeaux. Could I speak to you in private for a moment?”

Bella set her rag down and stepped out the door into the hallway. For a moment she feared she had made a significant mistake, but she would have expected Mr. Singleton to handle something like that in person. Milton’s calm demeanor helped soothe her fears.

“Mr. Singleton will be attending a fundraiser at the Boston Public Library this Saturday night. Because of your fondness for books, he asked me to see if you would be willing to attend the event as his date for the evening.”

Bella was caught off guard by the request. She smiled on the outside, but something inside her told her this wouldn't be a good idea. If she said yes, she would be opening the door for a non-professional relationship with him, and she had already worked so hard to maintain her lucrative deal with the estate. Plus, she remembered the rumors about his penchant for harassing women, and she wondered if this was how those incidents began. The entire idea made her hesitant.

“I don't think that would be a good idea,” she said finally. “I usually work on Saturdays, so I might be busy already.”

Milton gave her a stone-cold stare. Bella could see the wheels turning as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this.

“If that is your answer, I will pass it along to Mr. Singleton. However, I would remind you that he’s not the kind of man who likes to hear the word no. He was quite insistent that you attend the event with him, and I worry that denying him might affect your professional relationship with him.”

Bella furrowed her brow, feeling frustrated. She was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and either answer seemed to have negative consequences.

“I don't even have anything to wear, though,” she said in a last-ditch effort to get out of it.

“That won't be an issue. You can come here around noon I will set you up in one of the spare rooms. There will be a gown for you, as well as someone to do your makeup and style your hair. Everything will be handled. All you have to do is show up.”

“Then I guess I don't have much choice,” she replied sullenly.

Milton smiled victoriously, then turned and walked away, leaving her standing in front of the case that held Mr. Singleton’s prized book collection. Bella took a deep breath, then returned to her work.

 On Saturday, Bella was up early in anticipation of what was to come. There was no way to tell how this evening was going to unfold, and that made her incredibly nervous. She had handled so much up to this point, though, and this was just another drop in the bucket. If he made her feel bad in any way, she wouldn't hesitate to find a cab to take her home.

She pulled into the driveway just before noon. Unlike her previous visits, the gate out front was closed, but when she buzzed the intercom, it opened before her.

Instead of taking the right fork toward the kitchen, Bella decided that she should come in through the front door this time. As she pulled up and parked in the empty loop in front of the main entryway, Milton was waiting dutifully for her.

“I’m glad you decided to come today,” he said with a smug grin. “Follow me and I will show you to your room.”

Bella fell in behind him and followed him obediently as he led her through the house. She had only seen the kitchen, the hallway, and dining room, but she knew there was a lot more to it, just based on the palatial size of the building. The grand entryway was open and spacious, with two separate staircases curving up to the second floor on the left and right. She had seen places like this on television, but this was the first one she had seen it in person. She hesitated for a moment to take it all in, then hurried after Milton as he climbed the right staircase.

The hallways turned left and right, winding past dozens of closed doors. Every now and then it would branch in two different directions, like a giant maze. Even if she wanted to leave, Bella wasn't sure that she would be able to find her way.

When they finally got to her room, she was in awe. The room was enormous, with couches and a television off to one side. The centerpiece of the room was a huge four-poster bed made from intricately carved mahogany wood. To the right was a set of double doors that led to the bathroom and a dressing area.

Milton pushed the doors open and Bella was greeted by three women bustling about. As soon as they saw her, all of their attention was on her. They hurried over excitedly like fairy godmothers preparing a young woman for a night at the ball. The only thing missing was a pumpkin that they could turn into a carriage.

Their names were Sherri, Terry, and Clarice. All three were dressed in eccentric outfits. Sherri was blonde, while Terry was a brunette. Clarice was the standout of the bunch, with a frizzed-out mop of hair on her head that had been dyed to a faint shade of pink. Together, they made an amusing trio that constantly vacillated between friendly joking and frenzied snipping.

Bella wanted to see the dress, but her stylists refused until they had finished everything else. She was ushered into a chair in front of a mirror, where they set about preparing her hair and makeup. It took over an hour as they carefully twisted her long brunette hair into braids, then spun them into a tight little bun on the back of her head. They then added a few decorative pins that made her hair look like it was dotted with starlight. Despite her nerves, Bella smiled widely when she saw the finished product.

Once they were done, they pulled her by the hand and led her out of the dressing room and into the main room. While they had been hard at work on her, someone had brought in four beautiful gowns and laid them out on the bed. There was a pink one, a blue one, a yellow one, and red one. Bella found herself drawn to the yellow one. It was a long flowing dress with modest accents that were tactful and beautiful. As soon as she pointed to that one, the women began clapping their hands excitedly. The decision was unanimous.

The women swarmed around her and began stripping her clothes off without any concern for her modesty. The dress had built in support, so when they unhooked her bra and removed that as well, her hands quickly clutched her breasts to hide them. Thankfully she had chosen a pair of cute red panties, because that was all she was left with when they were done.

They carefully guided her into the dress and zipped it up around her, wrapping her in radiant sunshine. The girls were ready to do any alterations, but somehow the dress just fit her perfectly, as if it was meant for her. Once everything was in place, she was led back to the bathroom and placed in front of a huge mirror where she could see the entire finished product.

As Bella looked at her reflection, she was filled with excitement. This was her fairytale moment, where she could be the beautiful princess with no worries or concerns. It felt magical, but there was a tense undertone of frustration behind those positive emotions. Ever since she had left John, she had promised herself that she would never let a man walk on her like that again. She had pushed herself to be strong and independent every single day, but now she was going to this benefit to satisfy a man and preserve herself professionally. That wasn't the way she wanted to live her life, but she told herself it wouldn't hurt to let herself feel beautiful and magnificent for one night.

With their work done, Sherri, Terry, and Clarice vanished and left Bella alone in the room to soak it in. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the bedroom door. She crossed the room with her dress swishing behind her, and opened it. Mr. Singleton stood before her, and when he looked up from the cufflink he was fiddling with, she could see the awe in his eyes. A smile spread across his lips and his entire face brightened. For a moment, she would never suspect that he could ever be called the Beast of Belton.

“You look amazing,” he said, unable to put any other words together.

“Thank you, Mr. Singleton,” Bella replied, feeling her entire body flutter with excitement.

“Please, call me Kevin tonight,” he said.

“Very well, Kevin. Is it time to go?”

“It is. May I escort you to the car?” he asked humbly.

“Certainly,” she answered, then held out her hand to him.

Kevin took it and led her down the long, winding hallways. Eventually they emerged in the front hallway and made their way out to the limo waiting out front.

As the car wound its way toward the city, the two of them chatted amicably. Bella was once again surprised by how inaccurate the popular opinion of her host could be. He was a sweet man with a gentle nature, but he seemed to hide that at every turn. It made her wonder what had happened to make him such a heartless cutthroat in his professional life. She knew from personal experience that it took a certain degree of control to succeed, but he seemed to take that idea to new heights.

Bella found herself captivated by his boyish charm. Whenever she would crack a small joke, he would let out a hearty laugh that was contagious. There was nothing beastly about him in that moment.

The car pulled up in front of the library, and Kevin jumped out first. When he opened her door, she saw a bright red carpet stretching from the curb up the steps to the door. On each side of the carpet was a line of photographers scrambling to get a picture of the billionaire’s mystery date. Kevin held out his hand and guided her to her feet, then slowly meandered past the press. He would stop every few steps to pose for a photo, and Bella followed his lead nervously. She had never had this much attention focused on her at one time, and it was overwhelming.

The inside of the library had been cleared for a huge dance floor. A small orchestra played softly in the background while women in boisterous gowns were spun across the floor by their dapper dates. It looked like something out of a movie.

Kevin passed her some champagne, and she downed it in a minute. Her quick move made him smile, but he also stopped to pass her another. Bella made a mental note to take this one a little slower while Kevin guided her around the room. He seemed to know everyone there, and many of them were happy to see him. At the same time, there was a fair share that seemed equally fearful and nervous in his presence, and she was once again struck by the two sides of his persona, one personal and one private.

Despite spending a lot of time networking, Kevin seemed to make sure that Bella was more than just arm candy. Every now and then he would pull her aside to a quieter area and chat with her for a bit. After they had finished off a few more glasses of bubbly, he took her by the hand and led her out onto the dance floor.

Kevin was an amazing dancer. Bella had never done any type of ballroom dancing, but her host led her around the floor with a series of twirls and spins that made her feel even more like a princess. She was still in control of herself, but there was something freeing about giving in to his guidance and letting him lead her with the flow of the music. A permanent smile had taken over her face, and she giggled a little more often.

As the night wound down, Kevin notified his assistant that they were ready to make their departure. He said a few goodbyes to his closest colleagues before they made their way outside. Bella felt a comfortable buzz, but she was far from drunk. Being with Kevin seemed to have a calming effect, and she had imbibed a lot less alcohol toward the end of the evening. When they slipped into the back seat of the limo, she was smiling from ear to ear with giddy excitement.

The ride home was even more enjoyable now that she had fallen into stride. Kevin turned the attention away from himself and took a little time to get to know her better.

“How long have you been in the catering business?” he asked, giving her his full attention.

“About ten years now. I started right out of school, but I didn't really get into it until after my divorce last year. After that, I dove in head first to keep myself distracted. Since then, I’ve really found my place in it.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear about the divorce, but it looks like something good came from it at least.”

“It is a good career,” Bella agreed with a shrug.

“That, too,” he chuckled. “I actually meant it was good because it gave me the chance to meet you.”

Bella blushed and looked away. He was doing something to her, making her feel like a teenage girl. Was she ready for this again? Her scars from John were still fresh, and that made it hard to trust anyone. Kevin seemed different, but after everything she had heard, she wasn't so sure.

He sensed her unease and hurriedly changed the subject.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight. That charity is one of the most important to me. As a child, I was an avid reader, and I feel it's important that books be available to anybody with the desire to find them,” he said, somewhat somber in comparison to their earlier conversations.

“I think that's a great cause,” she said, once again surprised by his humanitarian efforts. She had never read about his charitable side, but something like that wouldn't really sell as many magazines as the sexual harassment charges. “How long have you been involved with the Public Library?”

“I can't even remember, honestly. As soon as I had enough money to share it with others, I was contributing to them. They say that people who like to read have a much broader imagination and much higher level of intellect. What do you think?”

“I agree,” she said, watching his eyes as they returned to her. “It takes a lot of imagination to paint a picture with words, but it can also take you to a whole other world.”

The car had just pulled into the driveway, but Bella was thoroughly lost in those deep blue eyes. A spark of excitement crossed his face, and he smiled gleefully.

“Can I show you something?” he asked her suddenly.

“Okay,” she replied, quite curious about what could light up his face like that.

Kevin exited the car and once again offered his hand. Bella took it and followed his lead. Her dress swished around her feet as they hurried past the stairs and through the belly of the house. They made their way through the maze of hallways until he stopped in front of a huge set of double doors set into a towering archway. She looked at him nervously, wondering where he was taking her.

“Is this some sort of kinky sex room?” she asked, only half jokingly.

“Don't be silly,” he answered, narrowing her eyes at her. “I may be an eccentric billionaire, but I’m not going to make an entire room just for sex. That's just ridiculous.”

The two of them giggled for a moment, before he grabbed one of the door handles and twisted it. The doors opened, and the room beyond was enough to take Bella’s breath away.

The space inside stretched up to the top of the house, taking up two stories of an entire corner of the building. Lining the walls were bookcases stretching all the way to the ceiling. A small balcony surrounded the second level, where more books covered every inch of available space. There were a few small tables and comfy chairs in the center, making the perfect area to sit and disappear into any one of the millions of books surrounding you.

Bella rushed through the door and began perusing the spines closest to her. The subjects were just as varied as the colors of the bindings that held them, from Shakespearean plays to classic Greek and Roman literature, with a selection of modern authors intermixed. It would take a lifetime to read this many books, but she would never be lacking.

Kevin stood just inside the doorway, watching her run about like a kid in a candy factory. Every wall held new surprises that captured her attention for only a moment before she discovered the next one.

There were small ladders on sliding tracks that gave access to the upper shelves. Bella spotted an old leather-bound copy of Huckleberry Finn on one of the higher shelves, and she quickly grabbed one of them and rolled it nearby. Within seconds, she had scaled the ladder and grabbed the book, but as she tried to come down, her bellowing dress caught her foot and she felt herself teeter backwards. Suddenly the air was rushing past her as she toppled backward. She winced in anticipation of the coming impact, but instead she felt the soft embrace of her date, catching her a few feet from the ground.

Kevin had foreseen the accident as soon as she grabbed the ladder, and was already below her when she stumbled. Now Bella looked up into his anxious eyes with his powerful arms holding her, and she felt safe, safer than she had felt since the day she had left John.

Just like that, he was there, inches away from her face. He smiled down at her, his eyes seeming to probe her soul, and she suddenly realized she wanted him. Her eyes drifted closed and his lips were on hers, kissing her as he cradled her in his arms. Bella wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled him closer, wanting to feel his presence. She craved him in a way that she had never wanted any man before. Her entire body ached to feel him.

When he stopped kissing her, Bella knew exactly what she wanted.

“Take me to my room,” she whispered longingly to him.

Kevin turned on his heels and rushed out of the library. His feet seemed to float across the floor as he guided her down the hallways and up a back staircase to the second floor. Bella buried her face against his shoulder and held him close, feeling the power in his body as he carried her. When he pushed through an anonymous set of doors and into the room where she had gotten dressed earlier, he deftly set her down on her feet and pulled her back into a kiss.

Kevin’s lips were rough and firm, brushing against the softness of her skin as he moved down and began kissing her neck. Every touch seemed to fuel her desire even more, driving her crazy with lust. Part of her couldn't understand how she had even gotten here. She didn't even want to come tonight, and now she wanted the Beast of Belton to take her, to control her. She wanted to feel his lips on every inch of her body, but the dress seemed to act like a wall between them.

Bella pushed him away and took a few steps back. It had taken three women to get her into this dress, but taking it off would be much easier. She reached behind her back and slowly pulled the zipper down. The fabric loosened around her, and she pulled it down. As the dress passed below her chest, she remembered that she wasn't wearing a bra, and Kevin would have a clear view of her naked breasts. That didn't bother her though. She wanted to show him. She wanted him to see her.

As the dress collected in a pile around her feet, she stepped out of it toward Kevin in only her panties. He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again, this time with a fresh passion. His strong hands were on the bare skin of her back, holding her close as their lips came together fervently.

Bella broke away from the kiss and began pawing at any button she could find. First his jacket came off, then the vest below.  As she unbuttoned his shirt, Kevin pulled at the bow tie around his neck and tossed it aside. Soon he was down to his undershirt, and she peeled that up and off to reveal his toned body below. Her hands slide over his muscles for a moment before returning to the warmth of his kiss again.

Kevin scooped Bella up in his arms and carried her across the room. He set her down on the edge of the bed and slipped her panties off, then dropped to his knees. She laid back, letting his hands spread her thighs. When his tongue slid along the soft folds of her pussy, she let out a sigh of relief. He began tracing gentle circles around her clitoris, teasing it without touching it. A long, undulating moan escaped her lips, and she grabbed his head as he explored her sex with his mouth.

Kevin’s tongue moved deftly, touching her in places that had been long neglected. Her entire body was vibrating, her muscles trembling. The first pangs of an orgasm started inside her, and when he slid one of his fingers into her wetness, she felt it spread through her body like a tsunami.

As her climax passed, Kevin moved up onto the bed. His body hovered over her, teasing her. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the bed above her head, once again showing his fierce dominance.

“Do you want me?” he whispered in her ear as he kissed the soft curve of her neck.

“Yes, please,” Bella pleaded.

“Tell me,” he pressed, his lips brushing her skin.

“I want you inside me,” she begged. “Fuck me.”

For more of this story, check out Welcome to my World by Alex Skylar, only on Amazon!

[daetur]

Breaking and Entering (Dyrihm Personal Event Log, Part 2)

After speaking with Dyrihm earlier in the week, Nob’s concerns continue to eat at him until, finally, he suggests checking in on the Death Knight, with Rey in tow. The three decide to take action, to get a better picture of this sinister “Father Trevarde,” and Nob sets out to sneak into the man’s house and snoop around.

Jackdaw toys with his gloves absently, nodding.  "Might not be a bad idea t'check in on 'im... he promised me he wouldn't do anything stupid, an' if I'm gonna believe anyone t'actually hold ta that it's Dyr, but..."

Jackdaw has seen a whole lot of Stupid in this unit he Knows you people.

Reyanel | Doubt.  Rey thinks Dyr does stupid things all the time because he never takes care of himself.

[Reyanel]: Well, we can stop by his place then.  Best to get back to the City anyway.

Jackdaw nods, the faintest hint of dawning horror behind his ghostly eyes.  Riding tandem again.  Light, he needs to get a bat.  Or not. Not... has perks...

Reyanel doesn't see this horror as he looks up to call his bone beast.

Reyanel | It doesn't need calling.  It clatters to the ground with a snort.

Dyrihm has left the hatch that leads down into his home ajar- an invitation. He can be found bustling around his kitchen.

Reyanel slides right in, looking absolutely fine for once, "Dyrihm." He greets, "Good, you're not dead, excellent."

Reyanel | Well....deader.

Dyrihm raises a brow. "Not any more than usual, no- should I be worried?"

Jackdaw gives Rey an Odd Look at that greeting.  "I think he means, he's glad nothin fishy's happened with that Father wossname fuck.  Yet."

Reyanel settles in the chair Frost has pointed out to him at the Winter's Veil party, gesturing towards Nob. What he said.

Dyrihm says, "Trevarde." He seems to mull the name over, an furrow between his brows. "Yes, I- haven't heard anything from him. Or the Blade, so far."

Reyanel kicks his feet up like he just lives here.  Rey, don't be so rude!!!  

Dyrihm | Rey is allowed to be Dyr's shitty visiting sibling.

[Reyanel]: Anyone in the Blade I should keep an eye out for by the way, Dyrihm?

Dyrihm gives Rey a look. "Besides ALL of them? They still think you tried to kill me to escape with your runeblade, remember? If they find out we're fuckin' pals, I'm toast." He sounds like he's spent a lot of time on this train of thought.

Reyanel winces. Right.  That.

[Reyanel]: Trevarde stopped by Hael--Varun's place and I met the priest there.  So he knows me.  I don't know if they've connected us.

Dyrihm puffs out a breath. "Well, he's not really Blade, so it's unlikely he recognized you, at least. I just wish I knew who he was reporting to."

Reyanel pauses. "I wonder if any Knights would know." He ponders that, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

Jackdaw raises a hand, completely useless as he's being invisible.  "Excuse me?  Invisible man?"

[Jackdaw]: He's prob'ly stayin' in the city, right?

Dyrihm nods. "I assume he's staying at the return address on his letters- it's residential. Which is... frankly, real stupid."

Jackdaw is already planning to fuck with the Apothecarium why not add another vindictive, dangerous organization to the list.

Reyanel looks at Nob. "If someone looks into Trevarde, it might help in the long run."

Reyanel | Cough, someone. He's a terrible influence.

Dyrihm stares at where Nob's voice has been coming from. "Not just anyone with shadow magic can see you, right?"

Jackdaw shakes his head. "Most folks CAN'T see me, even Shadow priests an' the like.  Atlas ain't been able t'see me until we got, uh- linked up, like."

Dyrihm nods. "All right, hopefully safe there, then- Nob, you know you don't have to do this," he blurts. "I don't want any of you getting in over your heads just for my sake."

Reyanel tilts his head. "I could try looking into it as well." He muses then looks to Dyr with a sharp smile.  "I have orders to hound the Blade, Dyrihm, don't worry."

Jackdaw smiles at Dyrihm. "Light's sake Dyr, ya let Reya half kill ya doin' him a favor, least I can fuckin' do is raid some priest fuck's office."

Reyanel flinches. Just slightly.  He looks up at the ceiling.

Jackdaw is just trying to make a POINT about how STUPID people are in this GROUP about their SELF DESTRUCTIVE TENDENCIES

Jackdaw 'noooo its only okay when -I- do it'

Dyrihm grimaces. "I know, but-" He sighs. "So many of you seem like you're ready for friends to turn on you, just doesn't feel right, you risking yourselves for my sake, when I-" He makes a frustrated noise. "I'm not sure you'd really believe I'd do the same."

Jackdaw is aghast. "What the fuck ever- what gave ya THAT bloody stupid idea, mate?"

Reyanel looks at Dyr. "Honesly, Dyrihm, who have you been talking to?"

[Dyrihm]: Varun and Maul!

Dyrihm gives a frustrated grumble.

[Jackdaw]: They're fuckin' PARANOIDS!

Reyanel sighs.

Jackdaw drags a hand down his ghostly face.  Chill.

Jackdaw makes an effort, and Appears, with only mild flickering.

Dyrihm sighs, drawing in. "I'm sorry. I'm just- maybe I'm a little paranoid myself, lately."

[Reyanel]: I think I understand why the Executor said to get some of us after pirates.  I think you need to blow of some steam.

Reyanel deadpans at Dyrihm, lounging in the chair.

[Jackdaw]: Look. Varun is- he's Varun, all right? He's jes LIKE that.  An' Maulfalcon's a giant bloomin' arse wart of a man who don't respect no one.  They ain't the best measurin' stick fer this kinda shit.

Dyrihm rubs the back of his neck. "I- I suppose maybe I do need more than Frost and I have been-" he clears his throat, as Nob speaks. "They may not be the best bars, but they're in CHARGE, Nob! When push comes to shove, if they don't think I'd be there for them, why would they risk the Corps for me?" Ah. There it is.

Reyanel makes a small FACE at where that first sentence was going.

Jackdaw groans. "Maul's jes bein' a VAIN SHIT, 'cause he's got some kinda stick up his ass 'bout bein' an elf, right?  I tol' him 'bout the letter, okay?  An' he weren't happy about it none- he WANTS ta make sure they ain't breathin' down yer neck, right?"

Reyanel sobers though as Dyr continues then, quietly, almost hesitantly. "You know the Executor's sending me after the Blade so we can figure out why they want to know you so badly?"

[Jackdaw]: Ya don't- folks DO care what happens to ya, don't be daft.  Honestly.

Jackdaw huffs.

Dyrihm glances at Rey. He scrubs a hand across his face. "I- of couse that's why he'd send you after Blade." The Knight sighs. "I'll try to stop second guessing that. Guess I'm just... not myself, lately. Everything with the Blade, and... well. Fresh memories.

Dyrihm You know."

Reyanel looks to Dyrihm. "I..I don't know about fresh memories." He glances towards Nob. "But if you need an ear, we're here, you know.  Don't have to go along on your own."

[Reyanel]: We're a team, Dyrihm.  And I think the Executor made his point about communication earlier, and that's that we all don't.

Dyrihm snorts. "Well, he's not wrong about that."

Jackdaw backs down a little, abashed.  "Sorry. Yeah, it- shit's been weird since that time stuff.  That was... hard enough.  Ya don't need me yellin'.  But- Lightssake, don't think we don't care about ya."

Dyrihm crosses his arms in front of his chest. "All right, well- You're right. I'm always a damn hypocrite about this. There's not much I wouldn't do for you guys. So, I'm glad you've got my back." He looks between the two of them. "I want to know more about Trevarde. I have a couple hunches- try and find out his first name, if you can, for starters."

Jackdaw nods. "Worth a go."

[Dyrihm]: Find out who he's reporting to- that's going to be your best bet for Blade to go after, Rey.

Dyrihm still looks worried about that, but he's committing.

Reyanel looks to Nob. "You're better at clandestine work than me." He states.  Simple fact.  "If you catch anything, I can get moving to look for whoever he's talking to."

Jackdaw grins. "Course.  I'll head there an' have a look tonight, even."

Jackdaw is fucking delighted to BE GIVEN A JOB IN HIS SKILL SET do u relaize that's all Maul would have to do to get him to stop being asuch a sullen fuck.  Just utilize him man.

Dyrihm nods. "Careful and quick," he says. "Nothing risky."

[Dyrihm]: They haven't contacted me yet, so I doubt they've come to a decision. And I don't plan on doing anything stupid to push them to make one.

Jackdaw pulls off a pin-tight salute, smiling gamely, a thing that continues to be odd when consciously considered, as most of his face is not visible.  "They won't know I was there."

Dyrihm looks to Rey. "Suppose you can wait to see what Nob finds, or try to get lucky."

[Dyrihm]: Might want to hide your face, though, to be safe.

Jackdaw helpfully tosses his cowl into Rey's lap.

Reyanel can't help a grin, teeth showing.  "I mean, I did technically try to kill you in Archerus.  Could just be looking for you to finish the job."

Jackdaw is downright chipper, after what a sad sack he was at Rey earlier it's amazing.  He just likes to feel USEFUL.

Dyrihm makes a considering face. "I hadn't thought about that. That's true."

Reyanel picks up the cowl and wears it across his face like a mask, arching a brow at Nob.

Jackdaw chuckles. "Dashing.  Mysterious."

[Reyanel]: Why, thank you.

Reyanel settles the cowl over his arm, looking to Dyr. "Could work, it's an option..."

Dyrihm nods. He looks... relieved. "Thank you." He shifts, a bit awkward. "I- It feels strange not to be doing anything. Having you two taking care of this."

Reyanel shrugs a shoulder. "You're pointing us in the right direction." He flashes a smile, sitting up properly.

[Jackdaw]: No point walkin' straight inta the lion's den when ya got resources, right?

Jackdaw seems honestly pretty damn excited about this.  The little nerd.

Dyrihm smiles. "True."

Reyanel stands up, rolling his shoulders.  Dear void, it's so weird not to be tense there...

Reyanel shrugs, “Anyway. I do have to stop by home." He looks to Nob. "Comm me and don't forget to report."

[Dyrihm]: Be safe.

Jackdaw nods, smirking faintly.  Even his leathery real-face gets in on it.  Seeing his actual physical expressions is weird. "'Course."

Reyanel flashes a smile at Dyr. "I will be.  I'm always careful." And he waves over his shoulder as he leaves.

Jackdaw bows with an obnoxious flourish, and vanishes.

Jackdaw already had the address memorized- he books it through the city, fast when he wants to be.

|| It was a residential home indeed, what Nob found at the address. A simple wooden door with a single lantern, and a small address plaque of tarnished bronze. There are no windows.

Jackdaw is patient, when he needs to be.  He waits outside, invisible, for some minutes, listening, watching for any movement or light under the door.

| | There is no light to be seen under the door, and the house is quiet, as far as can be heard from the outside. The lantern gutters. It has been lit for some time.

Jackdaw | Reasonably satisfied that the occupant is either asleep or out, Nob quietly tries the door. Locked?  That'll be interesting.

| | The door is, indeed, locked. There is also the faint tingle of magic.

Jackdaw grins.  He's ready for this.  Thank the Light for favors from uptight techno-magus nerdlords. He produces a key.

|| The latch clicks, and the tingling subsides. The home is dark inside.

Jackdaw slips in, his usual 'being as thin as possible' maneuver, and leaves the door open for now just for the light.  First things first: a quick look around to be SURE whether the occupant is home.

|| The home is small- a large, study-like room functions as both the entrance and main space, it appears. There is an orderly desk, papers stacked upon it, small personal affects clustered around the corners, a pen in an inkwell. A bookshelf stands against the far wall, far less orderly- stuffed with ratty journals and texts, each sporting a myriad of torn parchment bookmarks. A table is set in the center of the room- one chair only. A birdcage hangs above it, and something dark slumbers within. A doorway to the left leads to another dark room, but the light doesn't reach it.

Jackdaw decides leaving the door ajar is an acceptable risk for now- better than lighting a candle, and an escape route if someone is in that back room.  He's not a fan of the birdcage, but he'll have to work around it.

Jackdaw heads for the desk first- correspondence is awfully illuminating.  He intends to make this place look like he was never here- he's very careful with the papers, going through in an organized fashion and stacking them carefully in order.

|| Nearly every letter is signed slightly differently- the same handwriting, but the tone changes, seeming to suit the recipient. "Father Trevarde," is common, but some bear "Ebon Liaison Trevarde," "Shadowpriest Trevarde," "Shadowmender Trevarde," and one letter- a copy of something addressed to Atlas- is signed "Ebon Liaison Father Trevarde, formerly of the Church of Holy Light."

|| Of particular interest are a set of letters addressed to Knight Solis, all simply signed "Magnus." These appear to be reports, and grow increasingly frustrated.

Jackdaw is Heartily Entertained by all of this.  He reaches under his tabard and produces a tiny sheaf of paper- note taking will be part of your final grade.

|| The reports contain some odd comments along with more expected ones. That Dyrihm "Appears to be much like the man I remember," "Cannot be trusted to adhere to orders above emotional attachements," and "Comrades appear protective."

Jackdaw | Shove it up your ass, you manipulative old fuck. Nob notes the varying names and titles, the essential contents of the reports and their recipient, and replaces everything on the desk as closely as he can manage to how it was before he disturbed it.

Jackdaw creeps over to the bookshelf- notes, perhaps, or personal entries.  Again, great care is taken to leave no sign of what he's moved.

|| The journals are nearly all research- into Void and Shadow magic. Most entries are impersonal, academic. The oldest handwritten notebooks are about defensive spells and debilitating threats. The newest ones... seem to be about ways to avoid true death- phylacteries, rituals, the Shadowlands, soul manipulation.

Jackdaw, both interested and disturbed for personal reasons, makes a note of this progression... and perhaps lingers a little longer than he should, pouring over the newer material.

Jackdaw, too curious for his own good, EVENTUALLY gives up the journals in favor of the rest of the room. Step one: determine what the dark, possibly sleeping shape in that bird cage might actually be, before approaching.

|| It appears alive, and feathered, its body rising and falling with its breathing. The tingle of void magic can be felt from it, upon attentive inspection. It is about the size of a clenched fist.

Jackdaw doesn't care for THAT bullshit AT ALL.  He avoids the Likely Familiar, and slinks around the margins of the room to the interior door.  Closed?

|| Ajar. A dark room lies beyond, but the light from the entrance doesn't reach it.

Jackdaw replaces his tiny notebook From Whence It Came, and from that same disturbingly deep pocket produces... a lighter.  A Goblin lighter.  Light help him.  He clicks it.

Jackdaw covers the flame with his free hand, partially dampening it, and risks a peek in the room.

|| The light illuminates a messy bedroom- notes strewn across the bedside table with its small drawer. A few sets of robes hang from pegs on one wall. The small bed is untouched.

Jackdaw |  No occupant, no problems.  The notes are promising.  Those first.

|| Many are intelligible scribbles, some about the Void. A few appear paranoid, frightened. Another stack seems to be planning for his reports- one here is concerning. It reads, "Spoke with an undead at Deathstalker Varun’s residence- very little to no information on Dyrihm, but the undead willingly impersonated an Undercity official- suspicious- Dyrihm fraternizing with a non-Blade Knight? Any known connections to rogue Knights matching this description?"

|| On the bottom of this note, in a different pen, perhaps written at a different time, is one hastily scrawled word. "WRAITH."

|| Interestingly- this was not IN any of the reports.

Jackdaw , horrified, fumbles out his notebook again one-handed, and writes that one down word for word.  His usual pretty penmanship is a left-handed, frantic mess.  Rattled, he tucks the notebook away again and looks for any other leads in the room.

Jackdaw has never in his life been above going through pockets.

|| The robe pockets are mostly empty- some coins, blank papers, and a few dark, purple feathers that feel oddly cold to the touch. In one pocket, however, is something hard and metallic. A set of old, tarnished dog tags. [Magnus Trevarde], they read. [Troop 77]. Clearly, the man no longer wears them, but they must mean enough to have kept.

Jackdaw 's little packet of papers appears once more in his hand.  It's a difficult job with the lighter, but he makes a rubbing of the tags in his notebook.  No better proof than proof engraved in fucking metal.  He also pockets one of the feathers.

Jackdaw |  There's something magical about this shitty animal- if HE can feel the cold, it's magical.

Jackdaw automatically distrusts it.

Jackdaw has to have a go at the drawer, at least.  Though he's beginning to worry about pushing his luck.

|| The drawer is locked, but not magically like the front door.

Jackdaw is still in possession of a perfectly functional skeleton key, enchantments or no.  He'll try it, for shits and giggles.

|| Whatever key this drawer takes, it's not the same style as the skeleton key. Alas. A mystery remains.

Jackdaw , personally offended, produces lockpicks.  This is the LAST STRAW.  

|| Click! The drawer opens. Inside is... a personal notebook. Not academic, like the others. It contains pressed feathers and flowers, and frightened entries about visions of what awaits the undead after true death. An old, shabby portrait of a group of people is tucked between the pages. Six people standing side by side- A grim looking fellow in dark armor in the center, flanked by two hooded, smiling women. To the left, a blond giant of a man with a bright grin, and a dour looking sort in a robe, with long dark hair. To the right, on the end- is a familiar face. Yellow eyes instead of blue, and a fleshy jaw, but it is unmistakably Dyrihm.

Jackdaw , not for the first or hopefully last time in his sham of a life, curses his inability to draw. He tries to ignore his own interest in the priest's scrawlings, doing his best to commit the picture to memory.

Jackdaw tucks the entire affair away carefully when he's done, and re-locks the drawer.  Time to get the fuck out of here.  Okay, he's curious about the bird, but... no.  Fuck it.  It might talk or- have a mind link to the man or something.

|| Probably wise.

Jackdaw turns up at Dyrihm's doorstep like a lost dog, kicked and confused.  But Light help him, he's going to let Dyr know what's going on.

Dyrihm is busying himself in the courtyard again today- tending a few sad-looking plants.

Jackdaw rasps somewhere behind him, "Hey Dyrihm."  He's thoroughly invisible back here.

[Dyrihm]: Nob! How did it go?

Jackdaw pauses just slightly too long.  "Heh. Went smooth.  Found some stuff you oughta hear, I think."

Dyrihm turns, looking curious, and sighing with relief. "Oh good, it went well? What- what did you find?" How fucked am I?, it sounds like he means.

[Jackdaw]: Well, ya wanted 'is name.  First name's Magnus.

Dyrihm curses, colorfully.

[Dyrihm]: I was afraid of that. Light.

Jackdaw shrugs, unseen. It's a relief to know he can stay invisible.

[Jackdaw]: I got the impression he knew ya.  So... true, then.

Dyrihm nods, looking a little reluctant. "Long time ago. We haven't spoken since I became a Knight. It was... a different time."

[Jackdaw]: He's gone off th' deep end fer shadow magic, if that means anything t'ya.  Necromancy stuff.  Phylacteries, soul magic.  He had a picture've ya with some folks.  Ya had a regular jaw still.

Dyrihm looks grim, and a little sad. "Yeah, I would've- probably of our old unit." His brows furrow. "He still had it? It's been more than a decade." The Knight shakes his head. "I don't know, he wasn't- he wouldn't have done something like this, back then. I was hoping it wasn't him."

Jackdaw rasps, "I got no idea what he actually thinks he's DOIN', so if you do kindly fuckin' enlighten me.  He's been writin' all over t'folks tryin' ta get info on you."

[Dyrihm]: He wouldn't be trying to get a friend killed.

[Jackdaw]: D'we know fer sure that's what he's aimin' at?  Anyway, contact's someone called Knight Solis, if that rings any bells.

Dyrihm sighs. "I don't know why he's- well. Maybe..." He rubs the back of his neck. "No, don't know any Solis, more than any of the other Knights up in Acherus."

Jackdaw nods uselessly. "Well- he'd figured out who Rey is, so ya know.  But far as I can tell he ain't actually wrote anybody about it.  maybe he ain't reported it."

Jackdaw is, beneath his cloak of shadows, looking pretty miserable right now.  But he's faking it hard, and manages to sound relatively normal.

Dyrihm pales. "Shit, that's not a good card for him to have. Okay. All right. If he hasn't told anyone-" Dyrihm looks frustrated and confused. "What the hell DOES he think he's doing, if he's digging like that, but not reporting something that big?" He sighs.

[Jackdaw]: Sorry mate, I jes- can tell ya what I found, but not what's in 'is head.

Dyrihm smiles, kindly through his worry. "Sorry. Just thinking out loud, I know you can't. Thanks, Nob." The Knight looks thoughtful. "Maybe- if it really is the Trevarde I knew, I could try dropping by after all..."

Jackdaw rasps, surprisingly firmly for the usually skittish little man, "Not without me ya ain't."

Dyrihm chuckles. "I remember. I'll bring backup, don't worry." He shifts, suddenly, looking guilty. "I, uh- I haven't told Frost, yet. I don't want him doing something rash. Mind mentioning that to Rey or Reya, next time you see them? I just- I need to talk to him soon, I know, but- I want him to hear it from me first."

Jackdaw cringes, unseen. "Yeah.  Sure, I'll pass it on."

Dyrihm nods. He looks a little comforted. "Thanks for having my back, Nob. Really."

[Jackdaw]: 'Course. Always, mate.

Jackdaw really, honestly sounds like he means that.

Dyrihm smiles. "I- Normally I'd invite you to stay, but I've got a lot on my mind, and I- well. I think I'd like to be alone with my thoughts." An unusual sentiment, from Dyrihm. He sounds a little shaken by what Nob's brought him, frankly.

Jackdaw nods.  Light, it feels like he's forgetting something important... but he's just drawing a blank.  "Sure, Dyr.  No worries, right?  You jes'... take it easy, an' lemme know if ya need anythin'.  I already- I reported, so.  Varun and Rey know."

Jackdaw 's shitty, croaking voice breaks faintly on that last line.  He clears his throat.  Just a hardware error.

Dyrihm nods. "All right. Good." He pretends not to notice, but his lips twitch slightly. "Take care of yourself, Nob."

Jackdaw mumbles a "You too," and it already sounds like he's running the fuck away before it's half out.

[disndatradio]

Stereogum’s 40 Best New Bands Of 2018

This fall, an artist found her voice. In A Star Is Born, Ally Campana goes from unknown to sensation in under a year. The movie is unrealistic wish fulfillment, but her upward trajectory embodies our hope for all artists, at least on a smaller scale: to become popular enough to follow their muse without sacrificing their integrity, to provide us with music that has a lasting impact. The narrative of the film is, of course, messy and more tragic, but perhaps in some alternate timeline ALLY would have made our list of the Best New Bands Of 2018. (Or not, if her debut was more “Why Did You Do That?” and less “Always Remember Us This Way.”)

Stereogum has been putting this list together since 2010, and we pride ourselves on doing a pretty good job of sussing out talented artists as they reach their crest. Of course, there are a few caveats: “New” is a relative term — a lot of these acts have been cutting their teeth for years. The viral, immediate fame that ALLY comes by in A Star Is Born is a rarity; instead, it’s usually a slow and steady climb. And, stubbornly, we still call it Best New Bands, even though a lot of the inclusions on this list aren’t bands at all, because why change a good thing when it’s working?

This list, which we purposefully run a bit removed from the year-end list onslaught, is meant as recognition for artists that have had a great year and as an investment in them for the future. Many of these names will be familiar to regular Stereogum readers, present in our daily music posts and Band To Watch column. If you revisit our lists from 2017, 2016, 2015, 2013, 2012, 2011, and 2010, you’ll find that we’ve been pretty on-point. So get familiar with Stereogum’s 40 Best New Bands Of 2018, presented in alphabetic order, below. You can also listen to a playlist of our picks on Spotify. Enjoy! –James Rettig

03 Greedo

LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA

An American original. His voice is an expressive wonder, a tangle of yips and cackles and sudden, overwhelming bursts of energy. Plenty of rappers have taken the weird early days of Young Thug as blueprints, but Greedo is the only one who has pushed Thug’s style further out into the ether. And yet he remains grounded to his own dark realities; he calls his music “emo for gangbangers.” Throughout the first half of 2018, Greedo pumped out an insane amount of music, and we’re going to need all of it. In July, Greedo turned himself in to start serving a 20-year prison sentence for drug and weapon possession. We won’t hear anyone like him anytime soon. –Tom Breihan

Anna Burch

LOCATION: Detroit, MI

Anna Burch isn’t exactly new. She’s been around for a while, singing in Frontier Ruckus and Failed Flowers and playing with people like Fred Thomas and Minihorse. But the Detroit rocker’s debut solo album Quit The Curse still feels like a real coming-out party. It’s easily the best thing she’s ever done, spinning wryly relatable tales of love and heartbreak over indie-rock that marries old school starry-eyed girl-group harmonies with scruffily melodic ’90s alt-pop. It sounds warm and comfortable, confident yet understated. In other words: It sounds like Anna Burch. –Peter Helman

Ashley McBryde

LOCATION: Nashville, TN

An Arkansas native, Ashley McBryde had spent a full decade in Nashville, trying to get a country music career going, before her tough and elegant song “A Little Dive Bar In Dahlonega” finally got the ball rolling. “A Little Dive Bar In Dahlonega” is a hard-luck ballad about ending the worst day of your life amidst a bunch of other sad sacks in a place where the drinks are cheap. And that song, it turns out, wasn’t a fluke. Girl Going Nowhere, McBryde’s debut album, is a gorgeously lived-in, righteously sad, painstakingly crafted piece of work. McBryde namechecks Townes Van Zandt on the very first song and then spends the rest of the album living up to his example. It shouldn’t have taken this long for us to hear her. –Tom

Bat Fangs

LOCATION: Carrboro, NC

Early this year, Ex Hex bassist Betsy Wright and Flesh Wounds drummer Laura King released their debut album as Bat Fangs. It fucking rocks, full stop. Their songs are simply constructed by design but pack a huge punch. They put a fresh spin on old rock ‘n’ roll clichés, turning them on their head and reminding you why those clichés endured in the first place. Bat Fangs relishes in excess, with slick riffs and a charismatically goofy sense of fun that still manages to get to the heart of some pretty deep issues. –James

Black Belt Eagle Scout

LOCATION: Portland, OR

Black Belt Eagle Scout is the moniker of Katherine Paul, a queer indigenous artist who grew up on a reservation near the Puget Sound. Her music is a direct reflection of her upbringing, and she describes the songwriting process as a kind of therapy. There’s a universality to Paul’s soul-searching, a yearning that transcends the boundaries between people and speaks to the human condition in general. Single “Just Lie Down” starts with distorted feedback that could soundtrack a migraine or the worst day of your life. It eventually quells as Paul beckons in a revelation. “It’s all in your head/ It’s all in your head,” she sings. –Gabriela Tully Claymore

Black Dresses

LOCATION: Toronto, ON

Black Dresses is the collaborative effort of the artists known as Dei Genetrix (formerly Girls Rituals) and Rook, and we named their debut album WASTEISOLATION one of the best albums of 2018 so far. Not long after that, Black Dresses put out the HELL IS REAL EP. The duo’s noisy dark-pop is as ferocious as it is fun, even when they’re singing about traumatic experiences. Catharsis is this band’s driving force; if you don’t have anything to scream about, they’ll give you something to scream about. –Gabriela

BlocBoy JB

CREDIT: Shareif Ziyadat/Getty Images

LOCATION: Memphis, TN

2018 has been a big year for viral dance crazes, and leading the charge was BlocBoy JB. With a practiced kick-and-pump motion, the Memphis rapper set off a chain reaction that would eventually lead to children and video game characters performing his signature move. BlocBoy debuted the “Shoot” dance last year, but the move, and the man behind it, gained wider recognition when they came attached to a Drake feature. “Look Alive” underscored and amplified BlocBoy’s effortless flow, his words hitting with the same ease and intensity as his jerky gyrations. That unique charisma runs through his Simi mixtape. Energetic production mimics his lighthearted wit, each punchline matched with its sonic equivalent. In the same way that Drake labors to keep up with BlocBoy’s moves in the “Look Alive” video, the rest of Simi’s featured artists can’t help but adhere to BlocBoy’s style and pace. –Julia Gray

Booji Boys

LOCATION: Halifax, NS

Think of how hard it must be to work up a sweat in a place as cold and remote as Halifax, Nova Scotia. And then listen to the way the music of Halifax punks Booji Boys positively drips with sweat. Booji Boys are named for a Devo reference, but they offer messy catharsis instead of twitchy and precise theory. The band has been releasing music since 2016, but they really picked up steam with Weekend Rocker, a beery rush of an album full of muddy guitar tones and adrenalized hooks. In a place like Halifax, you have to make your own fun. Booji Boys have clearly made plenty of it. –Tom

Bristletongue

LOCATION: Lake County, IL

It takes a lot to make a big impression with just four tracks, but Bristletongue do just that on their debut EP. Femme Florale is a towering quartet, each song epic in its own right. The band locks into a painterly blend of post-rock and emo that’s elevated by L Morgan’s capacious voice. Their narratives deal with a lack of self-worth, told through repeated imagery of flowers dying and blooming once again. “Must I be wanted to be worth anything?” they ask on standout “Daisy Chain.” Bristletongue’s music sounds like the cycle of life playing out in your ears, capturing the intense sadness and unimaginable beauty contained within. –James

Camila Cabello

LOCATION: Miami, FL

Camila Cabello put out one of the catchiest and most memorable Top 40 pop songs in recent memory. All you have to do is sing, “Havana, ooh na-na,” and whoever’s in your vicinity will respond, “Half of my heart is is Havana ooh na-na.” That song is inescapable, the single that made Cabello’s departure from Fifth Harmony suddenly seem like an excellent career move, and her debut solo album Camila is chock-full of hooks. Opener “Never Be The Same,” with its chorus delivered like a bird song, rolls out the red carpet for Cabello to sashay her way down. –Gabriela

Caroline Says

LOCATION: Austin, TX

Caroline Sallee’s whisper takes many forms across No Fool Like An Old Fool, her sophomore album as Caroline Says. Layered atop a smoky bossa nova beat, it conjures the alluring hum of a lounge singer. It sways with a jangly guitar, breathing new perspective into familiar indie rock. Submerged in padded synth, it sounds weathered and knowing. The LP finds Sallee reflecting on her Alabama hometown, where she recorded her first album. Her whisper, now deliberate and adventurous, is guided by an acknowledgment of decay. She likens the arid setting to her aging body: “I used to love this town…I was born and will be buried.” Time passes and she remains an “Old Fool,” but wise in understanding her naiveté. –Julia

Closer

LOCATION: New York, NY

Two-thirds of Closer play in the indie-rock supergroup Real Life Buildings. Now forget that. Closer don’t sound anything like Real Life Buildings, and they don’t sound like indie-rockers dabblers trying their hand at post-hardcore either. They sound like the genuine article — raw, passionate, and urgent, building from twinklingly pretty atmospheric post-rock valleys to headrush screamo-assault peaks. And at the center of all of it is singer-artist-poet Ryann Slauson and their drum kit and throat-shredding roar, bashing feelings straight into your skull. –Peter

Control Top

LOCATION: Philadelphia, PA

Philly punks Control Top released an EP of purposeful, tough garage-pop in 2016. But it wasn’t until the 2018 single “Type A” that they really found their voice. The Control Top of “Type A” have a new lineup and a new sound, and the result is two and a half minutes of the most feverish and cathartic music we’ve heard all year. It’s a motorik grind, the bass and drums locking into a fast and tense lockstep while jittery and molten riffage erupts from the guitar and frontwoman Ali Carter talks her shit: “Your false authority is dreadfully boring to me.” The band’s debut album can’t come soon enough. –Tom

Ella Mai

LOCATION: London, England

“Boo’d Up” was everything you could want in a hit single, a plush, sleek ’90s throwback swooning with the intoxicating power of new love. Thanks to “Boo’d Up,” Ella Mai became a star almost overnight, and with her self-titled debut album, she’s surrounded it with a whole constellation of sexy, retro R&B executive produced with a steady hand by Mustard. If nothing quite matches the sheer wattage of “Boo’d Up” or its winning follow-up single “Trip,” it’s still a pleasure to sink into the sumptuous atmosphere and the fluid power of her voice. –Peter

Empath

LOCATION: Philadelphia, PA

The very foundation of Empath is enough to guarantee some buzz. Formed by members of All Dogs and Perfect Pussy, the band of schooled DIY punks quietly released their two-song debut CRYSTAL REALITY way back in 2016, but it wasn’t until this year that they were able to commit to the project more seriously. Their breakthrough tape, Liberating Guilt And Fear, channels the pop punk and hardcore that fueled their previous projects, but there’s a candy-colored sheen to these songs that glimmers beneath scuzzy production. It’s a promising start for a band predestined to turn heads. –Gabriela

Gia Margaret

LOCATION: Chicago, IL

Gia Margaret’s debut album is called There’s Always Glimmer, and that’s as apt a description of her music as any. Her whispered lullabies waft in like a cool mist through an open window, swirls of synth, piano, and guitar twinkling as they catch the moonlight and receding back into the night. Even when she sings of aching sadness, she does it with the kind of hushed, intimate beauty that sounds like a soft glow in the darkness. There’s always glimmer. –Peter

Haley Heynderickx

CREDIT: Alessandra Leimer

LOCATION: Portland, OR

An album is like a garden in a way: all these little creations grown from seed, carefully tended until they bloom together into a collective whole more beautiful than the sum of its parts. I Need To Start A Garden, Haley Heynderickx’s debut LP, is the sound of such cultivation paying off. Her folk-rock songs sneak up on you with sudden bursts of beauty or intensity, never more so than when she finds herself wailing the album title in a frantic fit of catharsis on “Oom Sha La La.” It’s a rare moment of lost composure from one of this year’s most assured new singer-songwriters. –Chris DeVille

Haru Nemuri

LOCATION: Tokyo, Japan

Haru Nemuri doesn’t make pop music, but she’s doesn’t not make pop music either. The Japanese artist mixes elements from J-pop, rap, post-hardcore, noise, and electronica and sets the genre concoction on fire. Its flames just happen to be extremely catchy. Her full-length debut, which came out earlier this year, is packed with sonic ideas that each evolve in three minutes or less. Maybe it’s this brevity — the immediate payoff — that makes her music so rewarding. Blazing guitars and crisp drums race to the finish line, tense arrangements linger just long enough. Nemuri is carving something completely new out of recycled pieces. She’s also making a very strong case for short songs. –Julia

Hatchie

LOCATION: Brisbane, Australia

Dream-pop can be such a slippery slope. Over the years, how many bands have come and gone who could create enveloping atmospheres but didn’t have the songwriting to guarantee the kind of dream you remember when you wake up? Sugar & Spice — Harriette Pillbeam’s debut EP as Hatchie — avoids that fate because it has songs. Occasionally leaning harder on the pop half of the dream-pop equation, Hatchie arrived armed with hook after hook. In “Sure,” the verse and chorus and refrain are in open war for which part can be the catchiest, while “Sleep” boasts a synth riff that is incredibly, giddily addictive. Sugar & Spice is essentially a perfect EP. It’s exhilarating to imagine what Pillbeam will be able to pull off next. –Ryan Leas

House Of Feelings

LOCATION: New York, NY

Before House Of Feelings was the name of a musical project, it was the name of a party. It sounds like one, too. Matty Fasano would invite his friends to come DJ, dance, and escape their workaday lives for a few hours, and he, Joe Fassler, and Dale Eisinger apply the same liberating everyone-is-welcome ethos to their music, bringing in guests from the indie scene to bare their hearts over an infectious disco-house thump. But even as they tackle the anxieties and insecurities of modern life, they invite you to lose yourself to the beat — because in this house of feelings, the biggest room is euphoria. –Peter

Illuminati Hotties

LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA

Sarah Tudzin is the full package: a gifted producer, songwriter, singer, lyricist, melodicist, and instrumentalist whose album Kiss Yr Frenemies is one of the best debuts in recent memory. Under the name Illuminati Hotties, the LA musician cranks out charming indie-rock tracks that represent the full scope of her personality. Some, like “For Cheez (My Friend, Not The Food),” are touching. Others, like “Pressed 2 Death” and “Shape Of My Hands,” are hilariously scathing. The lot of them are clever, winsome, and richly conceived. Tudzin’s fan base is small and fervent at the moment — a secret society, you might call it — but if there’s any justice in the music industry, she’ll be a star someday. –Chris

JPEGMAFIA

LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA / Baltimore, MD

Veteran is hardly JPEGMAFIA’s first release, but it is his first one that sounds fully-formed. After a couple years kicking around the Baltimore rap scene, Barrington Hendricks moved out to Los Angeles around the time Veteran was released, but the project spends its whole runtime looking backward, synthesizing everything he’s worked on up ’til this point. It’s an intoxicating, glitchy, often abrasive mix of textural ingenuity. The album’s title has a double meaning, both in that Hendricks got his start in music while serving abroad in Japan and that, in 2018, he’s fucking tired and over all this shit. Veteran paints a portrait of someone that’s above it, told through hazy sporadic beats and samples and a scatter-brained energy that only adds to its appeal. –James

Lala Lala

LOCATION: Chicago, IL

Lillie West picked the perfect band name. There’s a sing-song quality to the music she makes as Lala Lala, an intentional silliness that belies the distress beneath. On her new album, The Lamb, Lala Lala processes a fear of losing control, inspired in part by newfound sobriety and a home invasion that left her deeply paranoid. Some of West’s fears manifested in songs about the apocalypse (“When You Die”) while others nestled into lyrics about inner balances gone awry (“Destroyer”). Lala Lala’s strength lies in West’s voice and the glitchy melodies she writes make what could just be another indie rock project sound fresh and exciting. –Gabriela

Long Neck

LOCATION: Jersey City, NJ

When Lily Mastrodimos put out her first music as Long Neck back in 2014, she was coming from a place of interior solitude, a respite from the louder music she made with her then-band Jawbreaker Reunion. But on Will This Do?, the project’s full-length full-band debut, she’s looking outward for answers — from the cosmos, from her ancestry and hometown, from her friends and potential partners. On the explosive “Mine/Yours,” she explores the dichotomy of the title with her remarkable voice and a rollicking forward momentum. Will This Do? is an album about learning to make space for yourself, unmatchable in both its earnestness and ferocity. –James

Many Rooms

LOCATION: Houston, TX

Many Rooms’ debut album is called There Is A Presence Here, and it sure sounds that way. It’s a spectral and skeletal singer-songwriter record, Julien Baker’s barebones post-rock balladry haunted by Grouper’s eerie ambience. Brianna Hunt’s songs seem to materialize out of nothing and hover gracefully over barren wastelands, like God leading the Israelites as a pillar of fire. Sometimes they sound like demos captured in a closet, weighed down by heavy burdens. But mostly they feel like supernatural events — mirages where spiritual turmoil plays out in the space between this world and one unseen. –Chris

Retirement Party

LOCATION: Chicago, IL

Retirement Party are just getting started. The Chicago trio play bright, energetic, relentlessly hooky pop-punk, but their debut album Somewhat Literate is as much a product of frontwoman Avery Springer’s restless mind as anything. Her hyper-analytical gaze focuses inwards, on her own anxiety and depression and self-doubt, but even at its darkest, her navel-gazing never sounds anything but fun. “Sometimes I think that I can do anything,” Springer sings at one point. “But then I sit down and I qualitatively analyze my acute sense of awareness for my environmental surroundings.” And sometimes, she does it over some breathless shredding. –Peter

Rico Nasty

LOCATION: Prince George’s County, MD

When Rico Nasty is playing, there are no bystanders: You are her, you fear her, or you worship her. Depending on your mood and general disposition, you could very well be “the bitch with the long hair and her top off” like Rico. On a bad day, you might be the “bitch bleedin’ out” while Rico “still got the speakers loud.” The SoundCloud-bred rapper doesn’t deal in subtlety. Rico recently released her major-label debut, Nasty, after years of sharing mixtapes with her growing audience. The new one is one giant flex — a wicked storm of lo-fi beats, goth and emo flavor, and immutable personality. Whether Rico’s sing-rapping or snarling into the void, her power is awe-inspiring. –Julia

Shannen Moser

LOCATION: Philadelphia, PA

If you’re from Pennsylvania, the state’s landscape can seem nondescript. While Shannen Moser might be based in Philadelphia now, she hails from nearby Berks County, more of a small-town rural area. And on her excellent sophomore effort I’ll Sing, she has fleshed out her folk-indebted songwriting in a way that perfectly conjures the feeling of long, rambling drives through her home state. I’ll Sing is plenty aware of the traditions from which it draws, and Moser’s songwriting is so sharp that all the dusty guitars and winsome melodies make a convincing argument that she should soon be inducted into a long lineage of American songwriters born from endless wandering through this nation’s highways and countrysides. –Ryan

Sidney Gish

LOCATION: Boston, MA

Sidney Gish’s second proper album, No Dogs Allowed, is a collection of everyday objects, simple melodies, musings, and memories. The Boston singer-songwriter imbues items and ideas with confession and insight. She keeps a food diary to retain some modicum of control over her life, draws a line from sine triangles and biblical sin to “two-faced bitches,” mispronounces words as a power move, and tunes her guitar to echo each sentiment. The bittersweet confusion of early adulthood plays out in the harmonious tension between her sarcastic realism and tender twee. “Upon realizing I don’t know anything, there’s a lazy sense of glee,” Gish sighs, adopting the perspective of a city rat. Elsewhere, she sings alongside a campy keyboard, “We’re gonna go to a show and then come home and probably die.” Throughout the album, Gish acknowledges that lingering fear of death and foolishness with spirit and wit. –Julia

Sir Babygirl

LOCATION: Brooklyn, NY / Hanover, NH

A couple months ago, Sir Babygirl seemed to appear out of nowhere with the single “Heels.” As an introduction to Kelsie Hogue the songwriter, you couldn’t ask for a more effective or attention-grabbing track. “Heels” was a roiling, cathartic pop song that defied easy categorization, and much of her forthcoming debut Crush On Me follows suit. Sir Babygirl, as a project, is overflowing with ideas and influences, colliding into an idiosyncratic, colorful, and often overwhelming sound. You never quite know where Hogue is going to go next, and that’s part of what makes her great: This is the sound of someone emerging, shaking loose old hang-ups and anchors, to seize life and make art that reflects it in all its messiness. –Ryan

SOB x RBE

LOCATION: Vallejo, CA

This time next year, Vallejo quartet SOB x RBE might not still be rapping together. Signs of internal turmoil are spilling over into the public, and solo careers beckon. If so, the dynamic runs directly contrary to the celebratory spirit that courses through their music. At a time when zonked-out, robotic trap music has gone from an innovation to a cliché, the group’s pair of Gangin albums represent some of the most vibrant and inviting hip-hop on the market. In the grand Bay Area tradition, they’ve got bounce, they’ve got swagger, and they’re a hell of a lot of fun. –Chris

Sorry

LOCATION: London, England

The breadth of influences Sorry displays is impressive, especially for such a young group. Normally a band emerges with a signature sound and branches out from there, but the UK four-piece have made it a point not to be pigeonholed. So far, their discography consists of a string of increasingly sturdy singles and two rock mixtapes that are an intoxicating blend of breathy vocals and hazy thoughts, rendered in sharp pop hooks. The band’s two dynamic poles are childhood friends Asha Lorenz and Louis O’Bryen, and the project leaves enough space for them to shine as songwriters in their own right. Whenever the band manages to cook up a proper debut album, it’s sure to be a knockout, and until then they’ve left a beguiling collection of songs in the meantime. –James

The Beths

LOCATION: Auckland, New Zealand

Wheels don’t always need to be reinvented. The Beths, from Auckland, aren’t doing anything new. Instead, they’re operating within grand continuums — of New Zealand indie romantics, of ‘90s-besotted power-poppers, of hook-happy slackers with fuzz pedals and big hearts. The members of the Beths all studied jazz in college, and yet they play with all the giddy gusto of a group of teenagers who just heard the Blue Album for the first time. The songs on Future Me Hates Me, their instantly lovable debut album, all shoot straight for the pleasure centers of anyone who has ever enjoyed, say, a Lemonheads record. It’s an old sound, and yet it’s a sound that never gets old. –Tom

Thyla

LOCATION: Brighton, England

There have been other bands like Thyla, groups looking to decades past and mining the impressionistic soundscapes of shoegaze. But it’s hard to remember another band that’s attained the peculiar, almost-paradoxical balance Thyla has: the anxious forward momentum of post-punk and the brooding and heaviness of grunge underpinning the melancholic-then-transcendent parabolas of prime dream-pop. And perhaps more importantly: Those other bands didn’t have Millie Duthie. As far back as Thyla’s early, powerhouse singles like “Pristine Dream” and “Tell Each Other Lies,” Duthie immediately proved herself a force to be reckoned with, a singer capable of sounding like a hurricane even amidst all the layers and intensity of Thyla’s music. With their debut EP on the way, Thyla are still changing and exploring. But with Duthie’s voice guiding the way, chances are whatever they discover will be fruitful. –Ryan

Tomberlin

LOCATION: Louisville, KY

Despite Sarah Beth Tomberlin’s devout Christian upbringing, the Louisville-based singer-songwriter never liked going to church. She no longer identifies as Christian, and instead practices a sort of self-communion, writing and recording music as Tomberlin. Her debut album, At Weddings, is made up of 10 personal ceremonies, quiet hymns of introspection. Gentle fingerpicking and reverb-laden electric keys conjure a holy presence as Tomberlin meditates on relationship patterns, self-worth, loneliness, faith, and growth. Each concern carries the same weight and godliness in her “church.” –Julia

Ultra Beauty

LOCATION: Washington, DC

There’s not much good in the highest reaches of our nation’s capital these days, but it’s never faltered as a hotbed of great music. Ultra Beauty count themselves among the same scene that, in recent years, has birthed Priests and Flasher and many more acts that espouse radical politics in songs that go down smooth. The trio’s self-titled debut EP is an airtight collection of wiry and shimmering tracks that manages a string of delightful surprises, melodies and little touches that sneak up on you but make perfect sense once they’ve settled in. –James

Valee

LOCATION: Chicago, IL

GOOD Job, You Found Me, Valee’s debut EP for Kanye’s West’s record label, goes a long way toward explaining the Chicago rapper’s appeal: that delicate, meticulous “old-timey tiptoeing burglar” delivery that makes even boilerplate rhymes sound good and renders him a genius when setting an evocative scene like so: “Walked in Shell, flamed up a L/ Bumpy Margiels, feel like braille/ Dirty ass ginger ale, came through the mail/ I fucked your girl, in the hotel.” But summer smash “Womp Womp,” on which R&B stud Jeremih imitates Valee’s flow, most clearly encapsulated his glory. Lots of rappers claim to be God, but few approach the beat with such a still, small voice. –Chris

Vein

LOCATION: Boston, MA

There’s no easy way to say this: Vein are a nu-metal band. What’s more, they’re a supremely dope nu-metal band making the genre sound vital in the year of our lord 2018. There are traces of early Deftones and Incubus in the Boston band’s recent Errorzone, but also far less critically rehabilitated sludge monsters like Mudvayne and Static-X. It’s brutal, ballistic, hellishly discordant cyborg rock in which even the dreamy reprieves are rapidly swallowed up by nightmares. If every trend must recirculate two decades later, Vein represent close to a best-case scenario for reliving this much-maligned moment in rock history. They might remind you why some long-discarded version of yourself used to love this stuff. –Chris

Westerman

LOCATION: London, England

Westerman didn’t know if he was going to keep releasing music. After two EPs and a split with management, he was a bit defeated. Then “Confirmation” arrived, a revelation for him and us alike. Songs like “Confirmation” don’t come along too often — instantly alluring, infectious yet still enigmatic even after dozens of listens. It felt as if Westerman had suddenly located some kind of alchemy, fusing his plaintive folk roots with slick urbane textures and giving us a song that unveiled new subtleties listen after listen. That’s a hard thing to follow up, but recent singles like “Edison” and “Albatross” further fleshed out Westerman’s new world and, well, confirmed that we may be watching the birth of one of this generation’s most unique and captivating songwriters. –Ryan

YBN Crew

LOCATION: Birmingham, AL / Galveston, TX / Suitland, MD

In the past, rap crews have all been geographically focused: All the best rappers within a certain neighborhood, or within a certain circle of friends, all getting together to do their own local sound better than anyone else can do it. But the three core rappers in the YBN Crew come from Alabama, Texas, and Maryland. They didn’t grow up together. Instead, they met up while playing Grand Theft Auto online and freestyling into their headsets. And yet they still give off that conquer-the-world vibe — young guys doing their best to impress each other and somehow catching a zeitgeist-wave. Their debut full-length YBN: The Mixtape is all unrealized potential, weighed down with repetitive beats and unfortunate guest spots. But all three rappers, especially YBN Cordae, are almost frighteningly talented. And when they truly find their voices, look out. –Tom

Source link

source https://disndatradio.com/stereogums-40-best-new-bands-of-2018/