#and i am Not going to investigate my deeper feelings regarding this at the moment because i am saving my full breakdown

[sparrownnax]

fuck work fuck my job corporations should all die a quick but painful death

[lets-try-some-writing]

The Grim Dark Archives: Transcript #004 Higher Ups

[Transcript taken [Redacted: Sensitive data]. The following transcript is technically personal, but I've decided to put it here nonetheless. The conversation I had was with one of the higher ups who I will leave unnamed for privacy reasons. I was attempting to explain my reasoning behind my decision to... attempt further investigation into the aliens on my own.

I just can't sit here and listen as problems arise. [Redacted] is indeed useful when he feels like being so, but I refuse to wait around twiddling my thumbs while more horrors go on around me. I want to be proactive and learn as much as I can about this threat so that hopefully, when the time comes, I can do something to stop it.

Transcript begins.]

══════════════════

Agent Witwicky: Thank you for accepting my request for an audience BLANK.

BLANK: Of course.

Agent Witwicky: I am sure you saw my report and my detailed plan.

BLANK: I did, and I can't say I fully agree with it. I assume you came here to explain yourself?

Agent Witwicky: That would be correct, Sir.

BLANK: Go on then.

Agent Witwicky: Very well. I will try to keep things as concise as possible.

Agent Witwicky: To begin, I feel that we should begin looking more into the Autobot threat. They have claimed to be allies, but [Redacted] has proven this to be at least quite likely to be false. Not to mention these Decepticons have yet to do anything whereas the Autobots have already claimed civilian lives.

BLANK: And what exactly is your goal here Witwicky?

Agent Witwicky: I understand that it would be dangerous to dedicate a team to the task of understanding these aliens. And so I would like to suggest a singular agent be assigned this mission. That way if things fall through, this agent could be cut off from the government and claimed to be rogue, saving the US military from the ire of any potentially harmed parties.

BLANK: A sound suggestion. Let us imagine that you are this hypothetical agent for a moment. What would you be doing exactly?

Agent Witwicky: I would first get into contact with Agent Fowler and establish communications. He is by far the most knowledgeable and I would like to collect statements from him regarding the Autobots.

BLANK: That could be done without a dedicated mission.

Agent Witwicky: Yes, but what I would do after this would be less easy to accomplish for anyone tied down by military regulation.

Agent Witwicky: I would then take the risk of speaking to Optimus Prime in order to possibly acquire further information on Cybertron and its people. We currently have very little actual information. [Redacted] is a good source, but he only speaks on subject we inquire upon. I would like to dig deeper, to ask the Prime himself about Cybertron and its history. Maybe then we can determine the best course of action.

BLANK: That goes far beyond what we need to keep them in line.

Agent Witwicky: I need to know Sir. I need to understand these beings. Don't we have agents sent to other countries to understand them? Why can we not have an agent here to understand the aliens too? They could have valuable data, maybe even information on other worlds for NASA to use-!

BLANK: Enough. I understand Witwicky. Let us drop all pretenses here. What do you intend to do?

Agent Witwicky: I want to interact with the Autobots personally, to get their statements and stories. The more we know, the better chance we have of fighting back. I don't intend to tell [Redacted] about my visits either. Having two sources of information will help us pick out what is real and what are lies.

BLANK: We can make you a Diplomat. But I see that look in your eyes, that isn't the extent of what you want to do. Right?

Agent Witwicky: Correct Sir. I also want to look into the children. I want to see the changes they undergo and hopefully gain greater insight through them.

Agent Witwicky: Rafael runs a blog. He hasn't posted much, just a few thoughts every couple of days. But [Redacted] has implied that he will join the Archive, an organism of knowledge. A human mind cannot handle huge amounts of data, so there must be an outlet for all of it. I want to see how his thoughts change.

BLANK: You want him to be a test subject?

Agent Witwicky: Isn't he already one? We can't get him out now. So the best thing he can do for humanity is show how he is changing.

BLANK: ...

Agent Witwicky: The girl, Miko, she has a journal and a sketch book. I intend to get access to those things and transcribe the information they hold. Miko is the only one out of the children who is unaware of her situation. I want to see how that changes her view and if she can pick up anything we can't.

BLANK: I see...

Agent Witwicky: Then there is the older boy, Jack Darby, Arcee's target. He is by far the most interesting at present. He has been issued regular conversations with the military sanctioned therapist, correct? I want access to those recordings. Jack must hear things we could never comprehend. He must know so much more than us-

BLANK: Witwicky, what are you really after here?

Agent Witwicky: What do you mean? I've already said that I want to understand our potential enemies to help us fight back more effectively-

BLANK: No Witwicky. You have a personal investment here. What are you actually hoping to get from all this?

Agent Witwicky: ...

Agent Witwicky: I want knowledge. [Redacted] is hardly explaining anything. I hate having missing pieces in my puzzle.

BLANK: I see.

BLANK: ...

BLANK: Your orders will be issued soon. Consider yourself no longer outwardly affiliated with the United States Military. We will fund you and you will have access to everything you need, but if you are discovered, you will have no protection. Do you understand Sam?

Agent Witwicky: Yes Sir. When can I begin my work?

BLANK: As soon as you feel ready. Keep this information from [Redacted] as long as possible. He's already proven capable of violence when threatened.

══════════════════

[Transcript ends.

The higher ups were dubious about granting me my new position, but they will understand with time. It's going to be dangerous, that's for sure. But this way we will learn so much more about our enemies. Especially with [Redacted] here as well.

I don't mean to use the children, but considering they are all but lost causes, I think its for the best to just... make the best of their situation. Learn what we can so that no others share their fate.

Here's hoping the Decepticons are less convoluted.

Agent Witwicky signing off.

Recording end.]

[dollycas]

Requiem for a Mouse (Cat in the Stacks Mystery) by Miranda James #Review @BerkleyMystery

Requiem for a Mouse (Cat in the Stacks Mystery) Cozy Mystery 16th in Series Setting - Mississippi Publisher ‏ : ‎ Berkley (June 25, 2024) Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 288 pages ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 0593199529 ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-0593199527 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CJT8QC1J Audiobook ASIN B0D6NKY8Z2 Librarian Charlie Harris and his ever-intuitive feline friend Diesel must catch a killer in a deadly game of cat and mouse where no one is who they seem to be... At last, Charlie and Helen Louise’s wedding is only a month away. They’re busy preparing for the big day, and the last thing Charlie needs is a new mystery to solve. Enter Tara Martin, a shy, peculiar woman who has recently started working part-time at Helen Louise’s bistro and helping Charlie in the archive. Tara isn’t exactly friendly and she has an angry outburst at the library that leaves Charlie baffled. And then she abruptly leaves a catered housewarming party Charlie’s son Sean is throwing to celebrate his new home in the middle of her work shift. Before ducking out of the party, Tara looked terrified and Charlie wonders if she’s deliberately trying to escape notice. Is she hiding from someone? When Tara is viciously attacked and lands in the hospital, Charlie knows his instincts were correct: Tara was in trouble and someone was after her. With the help of his much beloved cat, Diesel, Charlie digs deeper, and discovers shocking glimpses into Tara’s past that they could never have predicted. Will they catch the villain before Charlie’s own happily ever after with Helen Louise is ruined? Dollycas's Thoughts Charlie and Helen Louise's wedding day is getting close. As they work on all the final details Charlie receives a large collection of books to catalog at the archive. He is happy to have an assistant to help him but Tara Martin is an odd duck, shy, quiet, and standoffish. She also has taken a part-time job working at Helen Louise's restaurant. Then one day Charlie sees a whole new side of the young woman when she steps out of the office to take a phone call. She yells at whoever she is talking to and throws and breaks her phone. Helen Louise's restaurant was catering Charlie's son Sean's new home and Tara was working the party, but she suddenly left looking scared of something or someone. Charlie finds her and she feigns a panic attack. Later Tara is the victim of a hit and run or was it a deliberate attack? Charlie knows now someone was after her. Someone at Sean's party? Soon he and his handsome feline, Diesel are finding clues that make him delve deeper into Tara's past with surprising results. Working closely with the police he strives to get justice for his former assistant. ______ Some of my favorite cozy mystery characters are Charlie, Diesel, and all the folks in their world. I love catching up on what is going on with all of them and am delighted that we are getting close to Charlie and Helen Louise's wedding. After 16 stories these characters are like old friends and I get a comfortable feeling from the moment I start to read. In Requiem for a Mouse, Charlie wants to stay out of the investigation but he keeps finding clues in his office and suspects keep stopping by. Melba Gilley, his longtime friend and co-worker does her best to run interference or alert the authorities as needed. Helen Louise also had an interesting visitor at her restaurant. Sheriff's deputy and Charlie's friend and boarder Haskell makes several trips to the archive to pick up Charlie's finds and getting statements regarding those finds. They also have some kitchen table discussions with Haskell's life partner Stewart and their housekeeper Azalea, who happens to be Sheriff Kanesha Berry's mother. I love how everyone gets in on the investigation including Diesel with his well-placed chirps and reactions to the strangers he meets. Everyone connected to the case seemed to have an alias and secrets. I always have a great time following all the clues and interactions. This time I had part of the puzzle figured out and loved the surprise ending when most of the clues fell into place. I enjoy that the author blends normal everyday happenings in the characters' lives seamlessly with the things to move the mystery along. The story has a nice flow but there are some repetitions to get all the information to the key players. Requiem for a Mouse is a captivating addition to this long-running series. I look forward to the big event in Book 17 and Charlie and Helen Louise's exciting adventure. They have to take Diesel with them, right? It should be a blast. I voluntarily reviewed an Advance Reader Copy. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Thank you to Berkley Mystery, and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC. Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent About the Author Miranda James is the New York Times bestselling author of the Cat in the Stacks Mysteries, including The Pawful Truth, Six Cats a Slayin', and Claws for Concern, as well as the Southern Ladies Mysteries, including Fixing to Die, Digging Up the Dirt, and Dead with the Wind. James lives in Mississippi. Find out more about Miranda James and her books on her webpage here. This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you. Thank you for supporting Escape With Dollycas. Find the whole series here.  Southern Ladies Mysteries The publisher is unable to offer a giveaway at this time. Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Receiving a complimentary copy in no way reflected my review of this book. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” “As an Amazon Associate, I earn a commission from qualifying purchases.” Read the full article

[autiponi]

Jeremy...?

...

A-1 and Master Daiki awaited directives to enter the conference chamber, where they would divulge any initial findings regarding Agreas' slayer to the demon queen.

-Do you remember what you're supposed to say?

-Yes master.

-Stick to the plan at all costs. I need her alive.  If Aj finds out about her, everything will be... Difficult.

-Master, please be aware that it is not just us who will be there, but all four of us. It may be difficult to control them.

-Just, remember what you have to say. If everything goes according to plan, they will only find out as much as we want them to.

-I understood.

Then they heard footsteps behind them. Turning around, they saw that it was Tenebris behind them. It was another one of the creatures who was

-Ah, as  I see Daiki and Miss A-1 came faster than expected! Respectable attitude as always... However, I assume that you have not found as much as we have. How unfortunate...

Daiki hated him from the moment they met. The arrogance and nasty self-confidence put Daiki in a very bad mood. He felt like getting into a deeper discussion with the puppet king again, but for the success of the mission, he put his pride in his pocket and just turned his head quickly.

-That will be seen, Mr. Tenebris. Nothing is known yet, and besides, this is not a race, but a serious investigation for .... serious beings.-You haven't changed a bit since the last time we met. The same proud, wonderful and calm Master Daiki. With his wonderful disciple too, of course.... I think I'm going to throw up.

Tenebris looked at A-1, showing his razor-sharp, holly-nasty teeth as he smiled even more than before. Seeing this, A-1 quickly turned her head away, feeling a new sense of disgust for Tenebris. She looked at the window and impatiently began to touch her katana with her finger. When the master saw this, he drew his pupil a little closer to him, causing her to move away from Tenebris.

-To you, I am MASTER Daiki, and she is MISTRESS A-1. And for now, please step aside. Your ugly teeth are not what we want to see today before we meet the queen.

Before there could be a bigger fight between them, the gates opened behind which stood a guard in snazzy armor and Aj herself, clearly tired with big bags under her eyes. The robe she wore could be seen to have belonged to Agreas before, her father's blood was still quite visible on the garment. The blood itself was black and shiny, it looked as if there were pieces of further shining stars in it.  In that one moment, she resembled her father even more than before.

-Please come in... The other two representatives from other worlds unfortunately can't come today. Therefore, we will start the meeting without them. So I welcome you Tenebris, Agreas, and.... you, whatever you are.

-This is my best student queen. Thanks to her alone we can have as much information as we have.

-I am A-1, my queen Aj. Nice to meet you.

A-1 tried as much as she could, to smile kindly while making a big bow. Aj, despite her attempt to remain neutral, was clearly disgusted.

-No matter what is… this. Come in and let's not waste any more time.

Aj took a seat at the end of the table and asked the rest of those gathered in the room to sit next to her. At least one of the guards also stood next to everyone in the room , for reasons of security and slight paranoia. However, they were not the standard demons that you would usually see in the H-666 dimension. They were a variety called "Primitive" or "Hollow" by the residents, depending on who you asked.

-Let's get straight to the point. Master Daiki, did you find out anything about the killer?

-Unfortunately. As is usually the case at the very beginning of such cases, I have little information to offer today. However, I have speculations about the person who would certainly be willing to kill Agreas. I am so sure of this that I think it would be a waste of time to look for someone else to blame. This... individual has already revealed himself more than once, not only to me, but also, for all I know, to your father. I hope he told you once, and do you know who I mean?

-Apparently he didn't. .... So tell me who you mean.

-Mike Insidios. A fanatic, a person out of this world, literally! He is a vicious murderer, a scumbag who is not only responsible for this case! And in addition, a great manipulator in his own right. I am more than sure that he is connected to this case. Agreas had something in him that this psychopath has been looking for for years, it was only a matter of time.

-But what was so special about my father that he decided to kill him? Please explain, Master Daiki.

-Mike pursues throughout the multiverse the children of Apollyon. They are creatures that have a piece of the soul of the ancient first creator within them. Legends once said that only one of the children can survive, and by then this one, in his quest for power, will destroy everything else that opposes him....

-Wait, my dad was a pure of fire and ashes demon, just like me. He couldn't have been that.... something you are talking about now. He was also never like you are telling, he never tried to destroy anyone. I'm sorry but this is absurd Master Daiki.anybody, I'm sorry but it's  ridiculous Master Daiki.

Aj was about to ask Tenebris  for his evidence, but Daiki  quickly cut her off.

-Your father didn't tell you much about what he did during the war, didn't you, Queen AJ?.

Saying this, he gently rose from the table and approached Aj with a slow but firm step. The queen, clearly confused by the Spar's question, also moved slightly away from the table and the guards were ready to attack if necessary.

-Didn't you ever wonder... that Angels in ours are in fact already practically an extinct species? You can only see them in armies of a fairly high category, but something strangely, you don't see their universe on star maps.

-What are you-.

-Also, perhaps you were not puzzled by the fact that Demons now tower over Angels in terms of species for some reason? This is not a normal thing, a few hundred years ago it was completely different in this regard.

-Master Daiki-.

-Something peculiar must have happened that demons no longer have a problem with the rather cocky, but still angels. Queen, your father, before he started taking care of you, was very fond of winning in all kinds of battles and fights on a scale that the universe has not seen, and probably never will see again. He was able to win definitively, without any victory on the other side.... he spared no one. He didn't even spare the universe itself.

Aj fell silent and began to look down bewildered. Daiki, seeing this, continued the argument while increasingly toning his tone to one resembling that of a snake.

-He, he must have had something special in him. Something that gave him so much strength and vigor in these battles. Do you know that during the war he was able to kill three pairs of troops without the help of anyone? No one ever won, every time! Your father, he must have had the soul of Apollyon in him. This is the only explanation why he was so strong, charismatic, yet aggressive and murderous. In addition, my Queen, he had all the syndromes of being... someone different from the rest of the demons. This "purity" you are trying to make us believe is only a half-truth.

-He was not like that... No...

-He was certainly not like that with you, that's obvious. But he had something left of it, however, this time instead of winning the war, he decided to successfully raise his daughter! Isn't that beautiful Queen Aj?

-...

-...No matter who he was now. It matters who he was before!  Before, he perfectly showed that he had the soul of Apollyon in him, that's also probably why Mike hunted him. This is my theory.

Master Daiki patted Aj gently on the shoulder and sat down again. The atmosphere became even more tense than before, Aj began to breathe more deeply and was visibly distracted. Her mind was still on the words she had just heard. She shook herself free and reluctantly sat down on the seat.

-...I will think about it, but so far I will not take too hasty conclusions. In any case, thank you Master Daiki.

Tenebris looked at each of them with his usual clear and unrestrained disdain, then laughed heartily.

-That is an interesting theory, moron. But I think I have a slightly better one! And best of all, it comes with proof!

-Then please show it.

Tenebris after making a couple of turns in his chair out of excitement took out quickly from the pocket of his fur what he had around his neck, developed photos of the party at which Agreas was murdered.

-Look and learn woodenly how to do an investigation! So, as we all probably know here, during such parties it is common to take all sorts of pictures of guests, they went around and took pictures, right queen?

-well-.

-YOU DON'T HAVE TO ANSWER! I KNOW THEY DID! So, I decided, through the hands of my servants, to ask some of those willing to help for photographs of that awful evening. And, this is the part when you can start clapping, I noticed an interesting thing....

Tenebris pointed a big sharp finger at the silhouette of a woman with red and white hair with obvious excitement. Daiki recognized Blackjack in her, which immediately caused great trepidation in him as well as in A-1.

-This beautiful lady's face is obscured... but she still seems distinctive because of that gorgeous hair! She was talking to Agreas before the coup, and then left with a bunch of other guests afterwards! I think it's her, FOR SURE IT'S HER! As well as these others can be connected to this! It is very strange that then they had to oh so go, don't you agree?

-Sounds pretty convincing, even for you Tenebris. Did you perhaps find out who these creatures were before they left?

-Unfortunately, no, at least not everyone because I'm guessing that maybe the Queen AJ can associate some of them... but the ones that didn't can be found too, right, Master Daiki? Or in other words. MASTER OF POOR EVIDENCE! HA!

Master Daiki did not know what to answer because of the shock he had just experienced. A-1 seeing this quickly joined the conversation, she wanted to improvise before her master thought of something.

-It would be possible, you're right Mr. Tenebris. But if we don't know if those definitely did something, it could be a very big waste of time. That's why I suggest focusing on those we know who they are.

-...I understand your reasoning. However, there still may be truth behind those we don't know here!

-Maybe, but I still think it will be better to focus on those about whom anything is known. Unless you want to prolong the investigation unnecessarily.

-I agree with my student. Queen, it will make things easier if you show us who of them you know, maybe they are the ones who just threatened your father? 

-I can check....

Tenebris quickly slid the photograph under Aj's hands. after a moment of intently looking at the silhouettes of the exiting guests, she saw a certain, specific person.

-I recognize one of the demons here. He is wearing the coat of arms of the Magids, those, to say the least, have never gotten along with our family. They are a close family, having risen from the same flame as my parents' parents, and so on...

-You think, Queen, that they might have had something to do with his death?

-... Yes. Definitely yes. They always wanted to take over my father's throne.... maybe-

-Maybe they were trying to pretend to be innocent through this? And in a moment they may attack again, it's dangerous to keep such people at large!

-This is the first time I agree with you, Master Clown Daiki! This family may not want to wait for power anymore.... MAYBE THEY ARE ABOUT TO COME FOR THE WHOLE-

-After my speech, Urana, one of the Magids, came up to me. She said directly that I am not fit for power now, and can she.... help?

-TRAITOR! TRAITOR TO THE NATION! KILL, KILL! KILL- ULTRAKILL-

-Silence Tenebris! But I agree that you need to keep an eye on them, they can attack at any time.

-What about the rest of these individuals? I guess we won't ignore them oh just like that!

-I think you can let the rest go for now, let all forces focus on the most suspicious ones.

-I completely agree queen.

-Well, then, we have the first clues where to look. I am glad that you have approached this matter with due respect, you will certainly be rewarded.

-This is our duty.

-I will notify the other representatives of our discovery. You, I ask you to continue searching and.... possibly check on the Magid family. I authorize you to spy on their every move.

...

Blackjack was sitting anxiously in the cab and breathing heavily. She was looking around and trying to reach Jeremy incessantly. Mike, seeing her in such a state, worried himself, tried to calm her down.

-Blackjack... It won't help if you keep calling. We'll be there in a while and see what happened.

-Maybe, maybe she will answer something after all. Maybe he will at least give a damn signal. Why doesn't he answer... FUCK!

-He's definitely ok, we'll get him out of there if we have to.

Mike gently hugged Blackjack in a further attempt to calm her down,she did not resist however she still looked concerned at the tear-drenched phone screen.

-...I, really don't want anything to happen to him. What if it has already happened. Just, not Jeremy... 

-He's not a stupid guy so he's more likely to manage.

-... Do you promise?

-...Yes.

-...Are you sure?

-...Definitely.

-... It doesn't help anything, but thanks for your efforts.

Blackjack reciprocated the hug very strongly. It lifted her spirits slightlyodź her fear for Jeremy's condition did not diminish one bit.

-Thank you...

...

They arrived near the hospital as quickly as possible. From the outside, it was obvious that something was wrong; a black, glistening ooze could be seen behind the doors of the building. The bright red light from the alarm and the scarlet blood could also be seen from the once clean windows. Blackjack ran straight into the building without hesitation after quickly getting out of the car. Mike was barely able to catch up with her, he tried to call her to him, but that had no effect either, and so they finally separated in the dark and gloomy hospital.

The sound of an alarm siren could be heard everywhere. All the doors to the patients' rooms were ripped open or thrown wide open. There was an intense stench of blood and medicine scattered throughout the facility. The medicine themselves and their smell had an intoxicating effect on Blackjack, but even though she felt weak, she didn't care. The only thing she was looking for in the midst of all this was Jeremy, the only one who mattered right now.

-Who the hell could have attacked him...demons...? No, they don't know about me after all....probably. Wait...that slime looks familiar.

Blackjack knelt down to take a closer look at the smear on the floor, but her vision was too blurred to draw any conclusions. Just as she rose from her knees, she heard heavy metallic footsteps. They moved slowly toward her, giving her time to take cover behind a vine; she had no desire to face her potential attacker any closer.

She tried surreptitiously to see what it actually was, but the light and darkness did not help very much. The thing itself, whatever it was in the corridor was making sounds, surprisingly for her, instead of aggressive and wild sounds, they were sobs and crying whispers.

-No... no... NO NO NO NO NO, this is totally not how it was supposed to be! THIS IS NOT HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE! I'm sorry.... sorry... sorry... all of you.... I'M SORRY! I-

-...Jeremy?

Only after a while did it occur to her that she recognized that voice perfectly, she couldn't mistake it for anyone else. She slowly left the place of her hiding place and with a slow step approached Jeremy. He, seeing her, began to shake visibly harder from fright. Blackjack, shocked by such a state of her friend, lightly grabbed his face while gently stroking his cheeks

Blackjack tried to get a little closer to him, but he was clearly moving away in fear.

-There was no one else here.... no one attacked us.... it's my fault.... it. is. my. fault. that. I. called. you. is. my. fault. 

-This... you did this to yourself...? these implants.... Why?

-I... didn't... want... you... to... know... I... .... have a problem... a disease. The ability to move me is slowly disappearing....it cannot be cured, Amelia, I had to do it to myself, this, it can help me....

-This is not your kind of technology, Jeremy.... what are you hiding? I could-

-YOU COULDN'T! you couldn't...the only thing that could help me was...the redemption I got.

-What are you talking about?

-From the sky... on my head .... fell a being that helps me understand, everything. Even what I really am... what I need.... Amelia, you were never there when I needed you, I was the one who always had to help you! You took away the meaning of everything for me when you left. SELFISH! I lived for you, Amelia, I hid it from you.... My life is slowly losing its meaning.

-Jeremy, try to focus! You are not thinking rationally right now! What has fallen on this head is why you are not yourself!

-I am myself. More than ever!

Jeremy's attempt at an attack on Blackjack was a hard fall to the ground, and it was obvious that his whole body was panting as if he was fighting with himself. In the midst of it, he began to repeat one word louder and louder.

-Run... RUN!

Terrified and shocked at the same time, Blackjack began to run down the hallway she was in before. After passing through the first door, she noticed that the next hallway was completely different from the one before. She didn't have much time to think about it because she heard screams and Jeremy's footsteps getting closer and closer. She started to run in any direction she could, getting completely lost and limping through the door, which was lying on the floor. Not knowing which side of the hospital she was on, she hid in one of the patients' rooms, thankfully escaping with her life. With that rather tenuous moment of calm, her emotions finally let go and tears came to her eyes of their own accord.

-Why... why exactly he!? .... Or, no... no... no! There must be a way to save him.... MUST BE!

She sat on the cold floor, helpless. She felt that if she didn't find a way to get Jeremy back to normal, she would probably lose him forever. She wanted to avoid that at all costs, but at the same time she could not think of a possible solution to the problem.

Her thought of a solution was interrupted when she heard footsteps slowly approaching her direction, at which point she realized that she had been talking to herself all this time due to stress.She quickly pulled herself together, picked up the metal tube that was close to her hands, and waited for the right moment...when the footsteps would only get closer to her.

-OU, YOU ARE OUT OF YOUR MIND?!

It was… just Mike.

-I'M SORRY! I didn't mean it! I didn't mean to hit you! I...

-I know, I know, I understand. Who were you trying to hit with that? My head is bursting through this pipe. ....

-Head... head! Yes, the head! He mentioned that it fell on his head, we need to get to his head!

-What are you talking about? Are you okay?

-I... I saw Jeremy.

-Oh, that's probably good then, so where is he?

-He...

Blackjack threw the metal tube on the floor and told Mike about the meeting with Jeremy, trying to hold back her emotions and tears. Mike was clearly shocked to hear more and more of the story.

-Something fell on his head.... and it made him "redemption"?

-That is what he said. That something probably also made him put those implants on, strange what was going through his head... he sounded like a complete lunatic. Mike, he was never like this before. Is it still him at all...? what happened to him?

-It could be the fault of a parasite.

-Parasite? No normal parasite takes over the brain, right?

-No, but there is one that specializes in it. Maybe you know Veranders?

-No... what does this thing do?

-In a nutshell, it gets into your brain and weaves a second personality into it. This abomination uses the worst traits of its victim so that the victim often becomes frightened and wild and very aggressive. In such a state, you are not fully aware of everything and cannot control your own body to a large extent. At the same time, the victim has characteristic eyes, the kind that are all black and dilated.

-Sounds familiar... very familiar.

-What do you mean?

-I had to tell you about it. Last night I was attacked by a strange woman. At first she was quite normal, I helped her not to freeze outside, she seemed scared but at the same time quite calm, she did not seem threatening... or crazy. But then she clearly wanted to eat me alive.

-Maybe she is the same spice, this creature does not take over the brain all the time, the victim can regain control, but only for a while... and then it is practically irreversible.

-So if Jeremy has it, we need to get rid of it now! We will find him quickly and...

-Careful Blackjack, it's not as simple as pulling it out like a tick and you're done. This thing, especially when you pull it out, can attack you and start controlling you. This is very dangerous, especially in the current situation.

-I'd rather it control me than him if something happens, he doesn't deserve it! I can get out of it somehow, he can't necessarily....

-...

-Mike, you promised to help, right?

-...And I will keep my word, but we still have to think carefully about how to get to him. Remember, he's still got implants that make him bigger than me and definitely stronger. Which, combined with being a lunatic, might make .... uninteresting.

-Yes, but for that you are stronger than me, and bigger! You'll give me a lift up to him when we stun him with this or that....it's stupid....or I know!

-And then what?

At the same moment she got the idea, Blackjack began to search vigorously through all the shelves of medicine, taking specific packages and vials. After gathering everything she needed, she sat down on the cold tiles and began to mix everything together in exact quantities into a vessel.

-We will drug him. Once he's anesthetized, it'll be easy to get the stuff out of his head.

-You took-

-Yes, I took ketamine plus prolofol, we need ketofol. except for a little pain at the puncture site, he should be fine. 

-I don't have a better idea, so I'm relying on you.

-It's the only way, but he'll need a very small dose. I don't want anything to happen to him, so I'll take care of injecting it into him, you'll have to take cover in the meantime so he doesn't kill you.

-I can go scout for him, you finish it and...

-Something is wrong with this place and everything is not where it should be, I found that out while running away from him.

-So I was right that something was wrong with this hospital. .... What could have caused that?

-Isn't the parasite responsible?

-No. The only thing the parasite is responsible for is the black goo that is spilling everywhere. The parasite is strong, but it can't interfere with anything but its owner. ....

-We will deal with this matter once Jeremy is safe.

After an intense moment of putting it all together, Blackjack poured what she had made into the smallest syringe so that there would only be a decent dose. After tucking it into the pocket of her sweatshirt, she and Mike made their way through the dark corridors of the hospital, listening for Jeremy. After walking down a similar corridor several times, they began to get the uncomfortable feeling that they were walking down the same corridor over and over again. In frustration, they tried to go the opposite way, which turned out to be necessary, for only then did they finally hear the unmistakable, shrill crunch of metal. Jeremy was somewhere nearby, Blackjack heard it, and with an anxious step she went behind Mike's back and began to hold him lightly by the hands of his coat.

-Are you scared?

-...No...No, that's not the point....

-Worried?

-More than ever, I don't want anything to happen to him. 

-Better worry about yourself now. Even if you help him, it will not be better if you have this parasite with you.

-What a sudden worry.... I do not care what happens to me.

-And for me it is the opposite. I've already lost a close friend once, so I don't want to lose the only person I have left of him now.

Mike smiled gently and stroked Amelia's dishevelled hair. Although she did not usually like to be touched, it gave her a surprising amount of confidence, which was needed at this point if everything was to go according to plan. They began to approach the source of the noise. However, they approached slowly enough to avoid any unnecessary footsteps. They could hear a faint scream, which they found extremely frightening in the current situation. Jeremy sat in the middle of the wrecked dining room.

The dining room reeked of fresh blood. The bodies of humans and various creatures were crumpled and twisted into horrible and unnatural poses that made one want to vomit. It was easy to guess that Jeremy was responsible for all this apparent carnage. Worried, Mike turned his gaze to Blackjack, whose face was painted with all sorts of emotions.

-J-Jeremy...why...why you?

-Remember this is not his fault. All he could do was watch....He can't control himself.

-Let's deal with him quickly, I can't see him like this anymore.

-I will go and distract him. Wait for my signal and then do the right thing quickly. Are you ready?

-...Ye, I'm ready.

Mike entered the dining room with an uncertain step, only now realizing what he had just gotten himself into. He started to search the floor for something to hold onto to get Jeremy's attention. He picked up a piece of shabby flooring and after a few steps threw it right at his head.

-YOU... NASTY MONSTER! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD KILL EVERYONE LIKE THAT YOU.... YOU... KANALIO... Damn, I'm terrible at this.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Mike felt an inner humiliation after what he had said.  But he stopped thinking about it when he saw that Jeremy slowly stood up with anger in his eyes.

-GET. OUT. OF. HERE!

Mike was attacked with razor-sharp claws, which he dodged quite gracefully, even though he felt he was barely able to do so. After a few more dodges, Mike managed to grab one of Jeremy's hands and momentarily knock him to the ground with a thud. Jeremy was in the perfect position for Blackjack to finally take him down, so without a signal and with strong emotion, she moved to take him down. Mike, seeing this, was lost, so he was finally hit by Jeremy, who hit him behind the door of the dining room with a loud bang.

Jeremy got up and slowly started to walk towards him, but then...

He felt Blackjack hanging on his back, holding him with great force. Without further hesitation, Amelia took the syringe and stuck it into the back of a distracted Jeremy's neck, but even after that, he still managed to grab her leg, causing her to be thrown onto one of the tables. Seeing her, Jeremy began to shake slightly, clearly trying to keep his body from killing her, but only avoiding the inevitable.

-S-Sorry, Amelia... .... I really don't want to do this! I warned you!

Jeremy was already swinging his claws over her. But suddenly they heard a huge roar. Something was running. Very fast.

The strange creature knocked Jeremy to the ground, but instead of focusing on him, tearing him apart, or simply killing him, it moved on in a frenzy. Blackjack was shocked, but seeing this as an opportunity to save Jeremy, she quickly woke up and ran over to him, covered in bruises. Before checking his head, she made sure he was definitely unconscious. After determining that he was stunned, she began rifling through his hair in search of the parasite.

-Rip it out and put it in the jar. -Rip it out and put it in the jar. After all, murder with pleasure. EASY.

She grabbed the tip of the parasite's tail a little hesitantly, and after a moment of hesitation and repeating to herself over and over what she had to do, she was ready for the operation.

-One... Two... THREE!

She grabbed the parasite with a powerful movement. A foul-smelling black goo began to fly from Jeremy's head, and the parasite itself, clearly wondering what was happening, tried to wrap itself around Blackjack's hand. Amelia managed to quickly finish it off, slapping its writhing body with her metal hand and dropping it into the jar without a second thought. It was all over now, she managed. She sighed in relief and began to look at the parasite in the jar as it wriggled madly and began to threaten Blackjack with its teeth. This creature was, in her opinion, far too conscious for a mere parasite.

-... What a nasty abomination, and on top of that, ill-mannered. May you die as soon as possible. Anyway, it doesn't matter now.

She put the glass down and looked worriedly at Jeremy. There was already an immediate improvement in his face, it finally seemed to be the same as before, she gently removed the syringe from his neck, laid his head in her lap and began to stroke him.

-It's all right Jer...it's going to be okay...you're safe now.

She snuggled his head against hers, her emotions already overtaking her, and she was flooded with tears, but this time they were of happiness. Although she had always appreciated Jeremy, this was the first time she felt so strongly how much he really meant to her, and every moment she couldn't be with him hurt even more. She sat with him for a long time, thinking and waiting for him to wake up, but suddenly she heard footsteps coming towards her.

-Mike? Is that you? I managed to save Je-.

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt something hit her hard. It was a heavy metal tonfa, glowing with electricity. It knocked her to the ground almost instantly.

...

-General, we managed to find a suspect .... However, there is another problem.

~Is her accomplice with her?

-Not exactly. I just found our decoy with her. She snatched Vandere from our bait. Anything we can do about that?

~I advise against it Lieutenant, it can be dangerous, leave the bait and bring the target, the accomplice will be taken care of later.

-I understand, out.

Yey! I did it!

[bansheescreamsfics]

Little Banshee Chapter 3

Summary: Little Banshee is adjusting to her powers but she realize so many want them too.

Pairing: Eric Northman x reader x Pam De Beaufort (polyamorous relationship)  reader x special guests *not guests but i don’t want to give it away)

Word count: 2K

Warning: +18 minors DNI. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. cursing? violence. mind blowing stuff. 

A/N: Btw I am @castiellawolfkissed . This is just the new blog i’ll be posting on for this story. fyi. also. please don’t hate me. the chapter three people begged for but did not want by the end of it. maybe not the angle people expected. but i like where this is going but it’ll make sense. Love you guys. Mean it. 

Title: Little Banshee Chapter Three

@hausofobsession @grimeundglow @fallensilencefics

Chapter one  Chapter Two

It was the noise of opening and closing cabinet doors in the other room that woke me up from my slumber. With a fast-beating heart and sweaty palms I sat up quickly in the bed looking around the room. It was far too dark for me to tell where I was or investigate anything. I slowly began to take deep breaths as my eyes very slowly adjusted to the dark in the house to see what was in the room. The only warmth I felt was covers over me I could still feel the cold body laying beside that was now stirring beside me. Slowly sleep that was fogging up my brain was slipping away as the memory of yesterday flooded my brain slowly in bits and pieces.

“Shhh… you are safe little banshee,” He spoke softly but his voice sounded deeper as he was trying to wake up himself too.

I could hear shuffling at the door before a dip in the bed made me jump and push my back against the headboard of the bed without a second thought. “You are so jumpy in the morning aren’t you little banshee.” The female voice registered as Pam after a few second and I slowly began to catch my breath before it was soon gone the moment, she straddles my lap.

“Bastards never stocked the place, so we have to get food for her, but it’s still sun light outside,” Pam said sounding extremely annoyed while getting comfortable on my lap and stroking my cheek gently, “But good morning to you sleepy head.”

The kiss alone woke up ever feeling and nerve in my body as I began to kiss her back while I felt Eric’s kisses against my shoulder. “Pam call who you need too now. I don’t care how we get the fucking supplies,” Eric’s stern voice made me shiver and I could even feel Pam’s body stiffen from the command. I almost forgot who was in charge in the room.

Without saying a word, she left the room without saying another word leaving the both of us alone to sit in silence. I didn’t even know what to say and to nervous to even move at this point, but his hand began to roam my body a little bit more. He ran it slowly up my back, pealing it from the headboard, until I was pulled gently into his lap, “Don’t worry little banshee. We’ll get you fed soon. I can hear your stomach growling already,” he said simply.

“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered into his chest. The words were barely audible but with his hearing he heard it just fine.

“Yes, I do. We said we’re going to take care of you. I know it doesn’t make sense. I know it seems weird to have us be so kind to you after all you’ve been through, but you deserve to be taken care of.”

“You just met me,” I whispered.

This made him chuckle slightly, “Hmm true. When you have lived as long as we have, you begin to realize that humans’ lives are too short. For you it’s very unknown how long your lifespan is to be honest. Far too many stories in the world regarding Banshee’s. Each one adding their own culture into it but generally being the same regarding their powers.”

As he spoke, he was gently rubbing my back and rubbing gently circling on my hips in such calming way that it was easy to melt in his arms. I smiled as he continued to speak, “You’re not the first crazy creature that’s showed up on our doorstep. Not the last either, but the first with your story. You know our story and who we are and yet you trust us. We drank from you and could feel it to be genuine. You trusted us with no strings attached. Pam and I don’t receive that type of love often.”

“That’s because it’s true. I hope you know that.” I whispered.

“I know. You weirdo,” He whispered. I simply laughed. I didn’t expect it back so soon nor ever but them simply caring for me was enough.

“Can you do that with everyone, the whole see their lives when you feed off of them?” I asked softly playing with his hair.

“Not always. Sometimes it hits us whether we want it or not, and sometimes we don’t see a thing,” He whispered and leaning against my hand as he was almost purring at the affection.

“Why would people want me? Not in that way but why are they hunting me?” I asked. The affection was over as quickly as it started. I felt his hand move up and grab mine and move it to his lips to kiss it before he kissed my forehead.

“You jumped into what you’re saying is a fictional world. And if you’re saying this is the past then you also time traveled. Little banshee you’re able to do more than ring out the call of someone’s death. Something inside of you can do more and we need to find out what. Sadly, others are going to want to know too. Except they’re not going to be nice about it. Do you understand?”

I hated that he was speaking to me as if I was a child, but I understood why he was saying it like this. I could only assume he was trying to be gentle with me, but I nodded my head. “Yes, I understand.”

The conversation stuck with me for the rest of the day as both Eric and I tried our best to entertain ourselves while we waited for Pam. Not that we didn’t make out or touch, but it was hard to continue when we the question was in the air. Where the hell was pam? I had no way of contacting her and I saw Eric on the phone all day and could only assume it was his attempts to contact her or contact people who could find her at this point. Pam was his partner in life, and I understood that he was freaking out at this point and the guilt of her being out there before of me was killing me.

“You should go find her,” I finally said once we opened a few windows to let the moonlight in.

“I can’t leave you by yourself,” he said but I could see him looking at the door and the keys. I sighed.

“I can go—”

“I said no!” He yelled across the living room leaving me to suck in a sharp breath. I know he was upset I couldn’t blame him either and me nagging him wasn’t exactly helping either. Instead of instigating I backed away to give him space while he began to dial on his phone once more.

I was trying to make sure their coffins were okay when I heard the front door opening. It was either Pam or Eric finally left. I rushed out the room to see a man that didn’t belong here at all. I gasp so loud, and another sick feeling was creeping in my stomach. The same bubble of a scream was at the pit of my stomach was begun to crawl once more, but I tried my best to hold it back.

“Who the fuck are you,” Eric said standing in the way of the hallway.

The man slowly looked up and began to laugh with a cocky smile on his face, “You weak fucks and the inability to walk in day light. This universe is very strange and honestly can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. So how about you give me the girl. I’ll give you back the mouthy bitch in our van, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

Eric with lightening speed was in the man’s face in a blink of an eye which made me gasp because the man just laughed again. “Well, I guess lightning speed is on your side, but weird we look a little alike. Maybe vampires are breed from the same fucking guy.”

Before I had a chance to even scream the man threw Eric into the living room wall and threw the bricks until he was laying outside. “Peter, grab her.”

The moment I felt his arm on me I punch him, but I knew his strength was stronger than mine, but I tried my best to struggle until the scream that was creeping up couldn’t be held back anymore. The scream was let out so strong that it rumbled the building we were in.

The arms that were around me let go quickly. All I could do was scream as the building around me began to collapse around me. I was pulled from the building until I felt metal underneath me and felt a hand around my mouth. And a vehicle being driven in light speed.

“How the fuck do you get her to stop!?” I heard yelling in my ear.

“She’ll stop when she’s ready just hold her tight. I should have just fucking killed you if I didn’t need answers from you,” that voice I knew and suddenly the screaming stopped, and it ended until I could finally feel normal once more.

It took far to long to finally be able to breath once more. I blinked a few times until the hand pulled away from me and the vehicles brakes were slammed making both mine, and the body behind me slam against the seats in front.

“Fucking Christ old geezer learn to drive!”

Before I knew it the back doors were open, and two men were on top of each other beating the crap out of each other before I had to run out of the vehicle. I took a deep breath and just let out the biggest banshee scream I could muster. I had never tried it on my own, but it disabled both because they both pulled away holding their ears.

Eric pulled away and rushed towards me and pulled his arms around me, “Okay I’ll stop!”

I stopped screaming to look at the man on the ground who looked rough from the collapsed building he must have run from. “Roman why are here!” I yelled.

“You know him?” “You know me!” Both men said at the same time before looking at each other. Roman coughed up blood but stood up before they looked at each other.

“Of course, I do.” I said softly. “You’re Roman Godfrey, CEO of Godfrey Industries and you don’t belong here!” I yelled slapping him across his face.

“Why are you here roman? What happened to everyone!?” I yelled.

“We don’t know but you screamed means someone died. I’m still very connected to Pam and I feel her very much alive,” Eric said before looking up at Roman who looked shocked and shook his head before looking like he was about to cry.

“I’m a fucking idiot.” He whispered. “I came here too. Help me. I’m trapped in my world. I want to break away and change things, but I guess I fucked that all up.”

I sighed trying to figure out what he might mean until it kind of clicked in my head what he meant but I needed more answers, “How old is your daughter Roman?”

He pulled the phone from his tattered suit jacket and showed a picture of an adorable child that looks about 1 or 2 standing up with a smile. That answered my question perfectly but that didn’t excuse his actions at all. I knew what he wanted but now what he wanted was going to be without his best friend unless we went back and changed his fuck up too.

“You realize I’m new to this right? I’m to all of this. I don’t even know how you crossed into this story and now I must save Peter. I now how to … wait if you know your ending. What is stopping you from getting help!?” I yelled.

“Because I’ve fucking tried and every therapist I get has gotten killed off!!!” He screamed back. “I’ve tried everything!”

I could feel Eric wanting to step in at this point, but I hold my hand to stop him. I understood what was happening. Roman was trying to fight back against one of the strongest enemies no one’s think of. The writer.

Eric must have felt my same realization as I felt his hand on my hip before he spoke while Roman tried to wipe away his tears,

“True,—This!

Beneath the rule of men entirely great

The pen is mightier than the sword. Behold

The arch-enchanters wand!— itself a nothing!—

But taking sorcery from the master-hand

To paralyse the Cæsars��and to strike

The loud earth breathless!—Take away the sword—

States can be saved without it”

[xserpentlife]

Innocent

Request: I love your writing. Can you do a story/blurb where Sweet Pea is dating someone very innocent (doesn't know lots of sexual things) and he is very supportive and offers to teach her?

Word Count: about 1500

Warnings: smut

Sweet Pea met you a few months ago at the Whyte Wyrm. You two never talked much. Here and there you did when you would pass him his drinks but it was never like you two were the best of friends. However, the night of your serpent dance that all changed. You always vowed to never do it, but you needed the protection of the Serpents and you wanted in. FP told you he would let you in without it, but you wanted to do it the right way, so the Serpent dance it was.

Pea knew you before that, you were a bartender for the Wyrm, always filling his glass a little higher than everyone else’s as he’d drop you a tip a tiny bit larger than the others. Everyone noticed that glances that were stolen here and there between the two of you but no one mentioned it, that was until the night of your dance. Your eyes on him the entire time. When you got off stage he was there covering you in his flannel so the guys would stop gawking and buying you a drink so you both could chat the night away. 

That night was everything to you and more, Pea learned everything from your favorite snack, to color, to the way your nose scrunches when you laugh, your how your eyes turn just a tinge darker when you get drunk. 

Dating Pea was like dating an investigator whose sole purpose was to know everything about you, it was all he cared about it was like it was his one job. He wanted to know anything and everything, Everyday it was a question of how your day was and if it wasn't good he made it good. If you had a bad day at work he vowed to make it better. Pea never pressured you when he learned just how innocent regarding the sexual aspect of things you were. You were a virgin, you never hooked up with anyone, and you knew you wanted to be with Pea forever, at least that is how it was in your mind, but you were afraid. Afraid of not being good enough at it, afraid you wouldn't be what he needed, or even know what to do. 

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

You’ve been wanting more with Pea for a while now, but you were so nervous. You’ve been making him wait for so long. After a year of being together you were surprised he hasn’t mentioned it yet. Every time you almost got there Sweet Pea would play it off knowing you didn't want to go that far. And even though you were nervous you were sure you were finally ready. Pea was sitting at the kitchen table in your trailer you walked out of your bedroom

“Hey baby I uh... Can I talk to you?”

“Course bubs”

“Look I love you and I wanna be with you and I am fine how we are but, if we were to do more or uh try to would that be okay?”

“You mean…?”

“Mhm”

“Of course I want that baby” you looked down to your hands, Pea stood up tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“What's wrong baby?”

“I just… I don't really know anything Pea, what if I don't do it right or, what if I'm not good at it?”

“It’s why we try baby, and i'll teach you” his lips met yours in a small kiss that turned into one much bigger, as he began pushing you towards the bedroom and onto the bed. 

“Woah” 

“Too much?” you shook your head no giggling, Pea pulled off your shirt and shorts leaving you in your bra and panties. He connected your lips once again before making his way to your neck and then to your stomach. He pushed the pad of his thumb against your panties rubbing, you felt how sensitive you were and a shiver ran through you. Your grip tightened on his arm, letting out a breathy moan.

“D-don’t stop” his lips lifted off of yours but his thumb continued

“Feel good?”

“Mhm” You nod, swallowing hard as he continues to rub your clit. 

“… t-take them off, please,” He reached around your back first, unclasping your bra. 

“Beautiful baby” his thumb lifted off your panties as he slid them down your legs, his lips meeting yours once again. 

“Pea wanna help you…”

“Wanna focus on you right now baby” you blush looking up at him, before pulling him down by his dog tags, and grabbing his belt with your hands before unhooking it.

“Take them off” 

“Okay baby” he stood up slipping off his pants and shirt before climbing back on top of you “now back to you princess”. 

You felt Pea’s tongue lick down your hip bone. You soon felt his hands grab your thighs as small kisses were placed there, and your legs were spread apart, and you threw your head back. You were dripping at this point, your arousal obvious to Pea. He placed his head between your thighs as his tongue made its way to your core. Licking from your opening right up to your clit, a loud moan rang from your lips. Your legs shut in response to the foreign feeling, but he wasted no time in pinning them open with his hands. Your cheeks heated with a pink blush

“Keep them open, baby” he placed multiple kisses to your click licking and sucking gently and hard all at the same time, you felt something in your chest rising, 

“Fuck omg Pea I…”

“Go ahead baby” he didn't stop his tongue moving faster as your eyes rolled back as you let out a massive moan 

“W-w-want more Pea”

“Yeah baby? You nodded and bit your lip. He sat up his fingers coming closer to you, baby I'm gonna star with one finger okay, 

“Want two Pea”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm” His middle finger prodded your entrance, pushing it in slowly before adding a second. He was being gentle, you knew that, you appreciated it, but you had done basic things, you wanted more, you craved more. His two fingers curl up to push against the top wall, you knew exactly what he was doing. 

“If you go in a little more, my g-spot is…” but you’re moaning out his name before you can even finish telling him where it is. Whimpers fall from your lips as he pushes against it over and over again.  His thumb made its way to your clit and your hips buck against his hand, a soft chuckle erupting from his lips as he does it again. 

He pulled his fingers out before you could cum, You whimper in response looking up at him “why”

 “want you to cum with me this time princess”

Pea stands up sliding  his bottoms down his legs, the bundle of fabric hitting the floor with a thump. You stare at his chest as he climbs back on the bed staring solely at one spot as he comes towards you. 

“Baby I need you to know that at first it may not feel the most comfortable, but it'll feel good after a minute and if it hurts i'll stop,” ” you looked up at him smiling leaning up and pecking his lips.

“I want you, i want this” 

“Ready?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

His tip brushes against your heat, making you bite your lips instantly.

“You okay baby” 

“Y-yeah I just n-need a moment” 

“He slowed waiting for you to say something”

“Want more daddy”

“You sure princess?”

“Mhm”

He pushed further inside of you  A loud whimper escaping your lips, Your hands grabbed onto the bed sheets, a sensation spreading that you never experienced before. Slow thrusts making you comfortable but eventually they turned to not being enough you bucked your hips towards him. 

“Harder,” you beg. He smirks down at you, pressing his lips to yours  “Fuck,” you whine, tangling one hand in his hair.

He leaned down thrusting harder, putting his body flush against yours and holding himself up against the side of your body, placing gentle kisses along your jaw, as you screamed out, hand tangled in his hair. 

“Pea. I’m gonna- I c-can't”

“Me too, baby,” he cuts you off. “Fuck,” he yells still inside you,  you feel his cock twitch against your walls. His thrusts deeper than before, a warmth feeling you as he cums deep inside you. He thrusts for a moment longer as you continue to ride out your high, your body arched back as he kisses your neck, You slowly leaning back onto the bed as he pulls out. Your mouth lets out a tiny whimper from the loss of contact and emptiness you felt inside.

He pulled you into the side of his body, nothing but the sounds of heavy breaths filled the room. 

“so, daddy, huh?”

“Pea! That's not funny!”

“Not so innocent anymore huh baby?”

You eventually fell asleep in each other's arms, the exhaustion from the night taking over.

[rumblelibrary]

The Diary of Doctor Laszlo Kreizler

Chapter 1  -  Chapter 2

Synopsis: Alienist’s notes are private, sometimes gruesome, secrets of others and of himself.Those pages belongs to secrecy and decadence, have a glimpse to this world made of drafts, notes, accidents and reflections. Or maybe it is you the only person that should ever reach for it.

While you read this imagine Laszlo mostly at the end of his day, scraping the ideas and the thoughts, adjusting previous notes with additions, closing the day behind himself with a couple of sentences while sitting in his evening robe, a good glass of whiskey and his glasses bridged almost at the tip of his nose. Or maybe imagine yourself, you sneaky thing, reach for it from a far shelf.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: listen, this is the set of ideas and confessions of a man living in the 1890’s. Most of them will be outdated, rough, even deprecating in some analysis of the roles of men, women and social status, religion, etc.So be prepared, my point is to make Laszlo reflect upon those topics, but to be as faithful as I can to his time. Mention of death, mutilation, self harm and sex. Psychologically troubled young children ahead! Author’s note: The story is placed between season 1 and season 2. Thank you for everyone that encouraged me to keep going. I have to wait for my local drop of serotonin to get fully Laszloed to go through this.

Lyra’s Contellation, Illustration taken from Uranographia by Johann Bode

Routine. Routine is comfort. Habit stabilises the character.

If you follow a routine, you won’t ever be victim of imprudence, of evil jokes of fate. The stability earned through calculated and repeated actions brings a sense of fulfilment that forbids other thoughts to come bashing in, breaking rules, breaking hopes that a solid scheduled routine forbids to have. I take my time to begin this week, I planned the things to do, the next steps for the case, the people to meet, the resources I am allowed to contemplate. I feel good, I feel back to myself and the events of the weekend seem far from me and my own perception. I probably got ahead of myself, carried by some instinctual though and random rush of emotion, to be always in contact with the same people and mostly kids probably doesn’t help my stance in the presence of other adults. I feel silly now reading back the last page, I felt tempted to tear it off, but to keep it there should be a small memento of not losing my temper so easily. I read it over and over and I know I am not as charmed as I thought I was. I am just lonely. I have always been and it is normal to face ups and downs even for a man of my age who is more accustomed to it.  To desire a partner is a natural instinct, to find somebody attractive is meant by nature, it is the body calling for the natural fulfilment of the reason we are put on this very Earth.  But even in a state of nature my own condition would be forbidding me to be part of the natural process of growing my own kind. I am the type of male that would be excluded because of his impossibility to give the protection to the pack, therefore it is just more reasonable to me to adapt to my condition. No matter what my Potentia generandi might be (the ability to procreate).

With all the smugness that characterises him, Niki showed off that he passed my challenge. But to be really of an help to his antics I didn’t show any kind of surprise. I treated him like he did the bare minimum, like he didn’t prove me any kind of superiority. He has a natural attitude toward challenging the figure of power, he is trying to overpower me, but I won’t satisfy his need. I have noticed he has a very technical brain, he finds ways to solve problems in ingenious way and not by throwing himself into the task. I proceeded giving him to work on a clock, an old broken one we had in the institute, one of the kids hit it with a ball years ago and nobody ever worked on repairing it. I gave him the clock, a couple of screwdrivers and a book. He called me a number of German names I won’t transcribe, but it gave me a certain amount of satisfaction. If my intuitions are right, I am sure the clock will be repaired by next week.

Analysis of the victim’s body through John’s eyes. The drawings and sketches are as detailed as I requested, all of this thanks to you joining him. I deal with art critic section, I am used to notice these things. You assure me, you play yourself low and I wonder why, nevertheless you did notice things neither John or I did, which pleased me. It fooled me, distracted me from my purpose to not give in to your witchery, as I leaned closer watching your pale hand move across the pages tracing this or that line, showing how this must be done with the killer on this side and not that side, with words so deliciously elaborate, your way of composing your speech is compelling, you could sell the drawing of a kid like it was a Botticelli. I noticed the shape of your hands, the way you move them, I wonder if you play an instrument, or played, some habits just stick with you through life. I focused on taking notes, your ideas and instructions giving me a new point of view, a new stimulus. What if that is the only way the killer can communicate? Or what if this is the communication that works for him? Could our killer be mute or deaf? Or that’s how society made him feel? This man, or woman, needs a listener and I am afraid that now, since he got our attention and the public’s, he won’t stop. Another killing could be just as close.

Scheduled: meeting with the parents of Alex Garel for new admission, Monday next week at 11 am. Love at first is a fetish and like all fetishes it is based onto an object that hides a deeper meaning, like gloves mean hands, to love at first sight means to see somebody that you think, and think only, to have the chance to share not only a sensual kind of bond, but an intellectual. Love at first sight is based onto not knowing someone well enough, but having the time to idealise most of that someone. I can see why I feel this attraction, using a particular phrase that Sara often mutters when investigating: you tick all the boxes. I know you do, your beauty is everything but conventional, you’re the kind of face that painters would paint and musicians would write hymns about, but any animal on the street would never be allowed to see. You have the grace of the body and the fire in the eyes, and then you speak. When you speak, I realise, you could bring the world to its knees. Also, you never speak out of context, and if you do it is to ease somebody’s position. You do it often with John or with Stevie, you say something really silly in order to put them back to a place of comfort. Some women would call it self deprecating, but I see that you only pick wisely your fights and your wins. You don’t need to earn your peace and quiet by neglecting, but by lifting up the others. I wonder if you do it with me too, if your silences are just you allowing me to be in a better place while instead your judgment is tearing me apart. I shouldn’t care, but I keep wondering, sometimes I take my time to answer you, I analyse every shade, every peculiarity of your question, I am looking for sarcasm, for a condescending voice, for something to hang on and bare you open. To prove myself you’re not perfect. But deep down I know that you do, you judge me and you do well.

Mother never said so. That’s what one of the girls in my care said today. Ursula. She is tough. Skin as thick as an alligator and the tendency to pull her own hair at night or when under a massive amount of stress, enuresis alongside erratic episodes of mutism. I tried the soft approach, it didn’t work. She is too accustomed to be indulged. Therefore today I pushed her a bit overboard, I teased her over opinions on the female body, the female role, she is only 12, but she is soon to bleed, she knows, I can tell from the way she clenches to her skirts, from the way she looks at me as a threatening figure. I am the incarnation of danger to her. Under her steady silence, I pushed a bit more, asking how her mother taught her to be nice and submissive. Does her mother tells her she is going to be a good wife? The phrase, which I reported at the top of the page, surprised me.  What is her mother teaching to her then? What closed her so much, locked her soul away, making a small bird like this choose the silence and the retirement of self inflicted pain over, what? Mankind? Or just Men? Is that even a curse? Should I cure her from a truth that her own mother whispered to her ear one night before bed and made a child decide that the world wasn’t a place to share her time with? Am I the man supposed to teach her that men are worth of trust? In the eyes of modern society, who measures its own value over the modesty of the women, she would be a champion, but at what price? I can’t in any way let her parents bring her back home after our recent meetings. Nevertheless, I have to make up my own mind on how to give her troubled soul ease without making her believe in fables. I, as a man, regard myself not worth of any of the trust they expect me to teach her.

In all of my years practicing with people’s feelings and traumas, I challenged myself to find those same traumas within my own mind. It is a tricky game, terrible, anguishing at times. But it straightens me, the pain of others, the pain of kids mostly, so unadulterated and pure, breaks the curtain between me and the lies that I often surround myself with. Pain is made of method, you can open it up, you can scrutinise it, part it piece by piece dividing it in sectors and, partitions, centre part, side part, heart of the problem. Pain is reliable. Happiness is not. It is random, cruelly sudden, unexpected, it washes over you in such deflecting way only to leave you alone a moment after ashamed and alone. I saw you again today. You were in a table full of what I could only guess as your former university colleagues, I saw pain in you, not heavy but constant. Annoyance, a bit of sadness. Your head titling on side and your eyes drifting on the left, you’re imagining something away from them.  A place? An object? Or maybe someone? Your hands play circles at the bottom of the flute of your drink like kids do, your smile only one sided. I don’t see you speak at all, only listen.  What could keep your voice down? I almost gulped down my own breath as you looked up and I realised how I must have looked. I was having lunch on my own, in a very private table and even entertaining myself with a newspaper on the side. I wish you didn’t, but you came over, your eyes shining.  Did I save you? Or maybe I was just a good excuse to leave that painful meeting behind. Don’t be so nice to me, it is not healthy. Don’t look at me like you expect anything more from me than me listening. I won’t smile back at you, I won’t give you care, attentions or thought. I won’t lean for your perfume, I won’t obsess over that dress you wore, that pin that adorned your neckline keeping your undershirt in place, a silver robin, I remember. I won’t remember the number of the buttons on the side of your glove, three. I won’t observe the little moles just under your ear. A small constellation, I later realised, hidden between your ear and the beginning of your neck. I don’t need to check in my books. It is a constellation. It is Lyra. Why? Why you must be like this? Are you the Lyra? Are you the instrument of Orpheus come to me to drag me out of Hell? The Tartarus holds my soul and you should know already, I am not worth the quarter part of Eurydice to be saved and she never came back anyway. I won’t be now recollecting the way your teeth sunk in the inner side of your cheek when you apologised for the annoyance.  You apologised twice, I ignored you both times with a raised hand to request peace and silence. I am not letting you in.

Reserved: Tickets for Wednesday’s evening Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. The guest female lead promises a beautiful show.

Leonardo, as I am learning through Paul Valery essay, is who I would define as a figure of projective identification of the Subject or, to better explain it, of the knowledge of the Subject that formed and grew through the use of sketches in the experience of the Artist. I have always thought that the finest form of art was the representation of knowledge duly undressed by any personal identification. Leonardo, instead, proceeded to represent the figure through the essence of the artist, a representation technically unlimited on objects and symbols and that keep expressing the transformation and development of Leonardo’s own being.Some artists are testimony of the destruction of the world, of the loss of eternal beauty over decadence. And then you have Leonardo, who creates an art that is the gravity of the world’s system, of the nature, of thoughts and abstractions. I wonder if our killer does the same, if the way they presents the victim through their own personal view, if what we can read there it is their stories, their pains, their needs. Their happiness and troubles. What are they trying to tell me?  I need to know, I need to know to save a life, of course, but I also need to know to be able to sleep at night. Hair, hair are the epitome of femininity in any era. I keep studying Ursula and her habit to pull the. I took notes on it: she picks them by the bottom, slowly separates them until she gains an amount her mind defines satisfactory and then she rolls her finger and pulls, she does it until her finger is empty and there are no hair left. I find her process incredibly interesting. In men’s case the display of physical attributes is not as vital, a beard can be appreciated but does not modify the power of seduction of a grown man. On the contrary, for women hair are a vital part of their attractiveness toward the opposite sex, society sees the hair of a woman as part of their vital characteristics, also in ancient times for a woman to cut her hair or have her hair cut was a sign of deep separation from the society. Only heroines or whores wore that mark and the association of the two is so rooted into the way society always parted the role of a woman in two that it is nauseating to think of. I am still fearing to let Ursula go away, the repulsion that she is showing toward her own body makes it difficult even for me to crack her shell open as a man, but my deepest worry is when that hate will take a scarier and deeper tool on her. How a girl with such  a fear of what her body can do, like sex or pregnancy, can endure in the future to have an husband? Or even to be courted by anyone?

John is helpless and I admire him for that. He doesn’t hide it, he just is. He is vulnerable and exposed, he is an open well bursting with doubts and feelings and troubled waters. He is genuine in a way I could never be. Maybe that’s why I despise even more him talking about you, how he sees you every morning, how you greet everybody, how you behave even with interns, how you like your coffee.  Your talents, your wits, how you said this and acted like that and reasoned through him. How you forbid him to drink even when he felt tempted. How you stayed late over to help him collect all the informations I requested him to get. To him. Not to you. The evil demon of envy scratching in the back of my head screaming like a siren out in the sea, he demands to be heard, he demands to be allowed a part in this game. I won’t allow him that. I won’t allow myself any of that. This is a pure game of chess, if I give in a pawn now, I will lose my knight, and I know it. I advice him to not be so closed minded when he praises you, only to get surprised by the charms of a natural logical mind. I find a way to hurt him, he is an easy target, I look at him as his eyebrows twitch and he summons his patience on me. He lost the plot about you already, his bruised pride taking over. You won’t come into my life.

“Un dì, felice, eterea, mi balenaste innante, e da quel dì tremante vissi d'ignoto amor.”  (“On a day, happy and ethereal, you appeared in front of me and from that day, trembling, I lived on an unknown love”)

The words of Alfredo in the first act of the Traviata keep running through me, a chant that won’t let me go, almost painful. The Opera House, that was my hiding place, a place where in plain sight I could let out myself, unleash. The catharsis of the characters involved running through me, I didn’t need anything but their voices and those musical instruments to let out my fears, doubts and anger. When Alfredo came to the scene tonight, the lights were strong and slightly pinkish, the performer bursting out of the seams with passion. My eyes diverted only to see you there. Alone. Those blinding lights gave you the the radiance of a vision singing the notes of greek myths and heroes, that dark blue evening clothing rang through my eyes like it was a bright yellow, the little shiny details that adorned you so clear against the heavy lighting to look like transparent pieces of water collected to adorn your beauty. I wasn’t me, but Alfredo, and I was helpless against you sitting so far and yet too close from me. I was naked in front of thousands. I am aware of the effect you have on me and our last conversation was barely regarded as one. This is infatuation, this is the pure work of a lonely mind and not something worth of any of all the words that I am dissipating here. Yet. I saw you cry at the climax of the opera, Violetta, the protagonist, heartbroken falling on stage consumed by pain and regret for her lost love and ultimate sacrifice. Your eyes shone as you tried to hide the tears and collect yourself. Through my binoculars, I saw your throat tremble and gulp down something more than just a sigh of pain. Your jaw clenched, your gloved hand moves to hide your shaking lips. I reckon, I have never seen such sad lips look more inviting. You look at the wall on your side breathing through your nose and not even that can save you by the strength of the voice of the soprano. You’re defeated and so you brought a fine silk handkerchief to your eyes, your shoulders bent inward in self defence.  The Opera won. It won you like it always wins me. I wonder if you felt like this because of a past lover, somebody that broke your heart and made you feel wrong in any way.  And because of that little wonder it is even more clear to me why I am a man worth of no trust. Because for a moment, I know, I wished to be the one that broke your heart. That gave you just the pain you’re inflicting on me so mercilessly by offering intoxicating kindness and beauty.  To own your thoughts, tears and shame. To be the one man you have to look away from. I want to own all of that and, maybe, I will be freed of you the day you’ll be just another human being that hates Dr Laszlo Kreizler.

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[magalidragon]

n°7 - “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

In the “Heat Wave” universe, pretty please!😊

YES! Love these beans! 🔥🔥🔥 And  because I also got another ask for this same universe, I’ve combined it into one Drabblish-ish (2700 words, not 2500, lol).  And THANK YOU FOR THE MOODBOARD DARLING!  Enjoy!

Smutty One Liner Prompts

7. “Is there some space left in that bathtub?”

10. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

Bliss, that's what this was, Dany thought, her eyes still closed, her breathing even, and her skin tingly and warm.  She sighed, exhaling out any worry she might continue to have—there was no more worry now that she was out of the Hell House and living in Heaven's Hall—her body nestled in a soft, fluffy mattress with thick quilt and soft flannel sheets covering her.  She smiled, serene, and opened her eyes slowly, peering up at a set of red eyes, watching her.  

She smiled wider, quirking an eyebrow up.  "That's really creepy Ghost."

Ghost said nothing, licked his chops, and then her face, and hopped away from his nighttime stalking.  She chuckled, sitting up on her elbows, glancing at three faces underneath one of the throw blankets over the bed, all of her little dragons purring contentedly, no doubt thankful she had relocated them completely.  She wiggled her toes, returning feeling to them, and scanned the room, which was empty.  

The snow had eventually stopped, the wind fading away, and now the sun was out, but to her surprise, she must have slept through most of the day.  Bloody cold, she cursed inwardly, for she never got sick.  She had slept most of the last couple of days, interspersed with coughing fits, cranky moments of letting Jon take her temperature and pour soup and tea down her throat, and the occasional "I am not sick, so you can totally fuck me, I promise I won't pass out" debates.  He had refused, tucking her into the big bed in his room, saying that she was his patient now, and one did not take advantage that way.

"You're too honorable for your own good," she bitched, the last time she'd tried to suggest a little nookie.

"Sue me."

"Hmm, I might."  

He simply kissed her nose, told her she was adorable with her pouting, and she fell asleep before she could reply, cursing her body for succumbing to this strange Southern cold during this strange Southern storm.  

It was almost sundown; the light fading overtop the trees cocooning the house on the mountainside.  She blinked at the reflection of the snowy treetops in the huge windows and felt good.  Good enough to get out of bed, she figured, sliding free of the sheets, the huge Night's Watch hoodie falling over her hips to her knees and sleeves over her fingertips.  She shuffled in her thick wool socks—also stolen from Jon—to the bathroom, flicking on the light and taking stock of her reflection.  

Her nose was chapped from blowing into Kleenex, her eyes slightly blood-shot, and her hair was a nest of epic proportions, she wondered if there was a dragon living in it.  She scrubbed her cheek with her palm, shaking her head, and glanced at Ghost, who looked up at her curiously.  "Do you think I'm sexy Ghost?"  She put on a fake pose, thrusting her hip to the side, pretending to look cute in the oversized sweatshirt and nothing else.  

Ghost did not indicate one way or the other.  He just wandered off towards the sunken tub, hoping into it and then put his paws on the other side, tail wagging and gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows.  She wandered over, sitting on the edge, and followed his gaze, smiling down at Jon, who was moving firewood from the deck into the house.  She scratched Ghost's head.  "Thank you for keeping me company, I'm sure you'd rather be with him."

She ran her fingers as best through her hair as she could, wincing at tangles.  "Ugh."  A shower was necessary.  She shivered; it was still chilly, even with the heat returning, the pipes back to working order.  

Somewhere in the bedroom, her phone dinged.  She left Ghost to his watch, getting off the bathtub edge and went to pick it up from the nightstand, staring at the email notification from Tyrion Lannister.  

Thank you for your message, Lannister Properties is currently closed due to significant weather activity, we will respond in due time. She scoffed, opened up one of the emails that had been sent immediately after and saw that indeed, Tyrion had replied.

Ms. Targaryen, I was sorry to see your negative review of our property.  As you know, significant weather activity is possible, and while we cannot compensate you for any destruction caused by Acts of the Gods, we would like to offer you a 20 percent discount on your next Lannister Property rental.  A Lannister always pays their debts, and we would like to no longer be in debt to you!  Thank you, Tyrion  P.S.  Our insurance investigator will survey the property damage and be in touch regarding your payment options.

Her mouth dropped.  "Fuck you!" she shouted at the email.  She would definitely be handling this stupid little lion herself.  After drafting a very strongly worded email with tons of legal jargon she hoped would have the Lannister quaking in his boots, she dropped her phone, a muscle twitching somewhere in her shoulder.  She rubbed at it, scowling at the dragons, who were watching her from where they now were seated on her pillow.  She shook her head.  "Fucking Lannisters."

At least she had Jon, she figured, and picked up her phone again, sending a quick message to Missandei.  Despite the weather, the plague, and the shitty rental, I'm feeling much better now.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.  She smirked at her BFF's reply:  Yes, I've heard endless banging can do that to a person.

After saying that she was not endless banging Jon-- they'd had to take a break because of the plague after all-- she put the phone on silent, charged it up, and then padded back into the bathroom, because now she well and truly needed a hot, long, relaxing shower....or...maybe...

Her eyes landed on the tub.  It had been used just to store water those first couple days without power, but a week later....she swished her lips around and decided.  She deserved a soak.  Just like she wanted when she first saw it.  She leaned over and tugged on the taps, letting the hot water pour in, steam instantly rising.  It was rather deep, like a small pond, and she puttered about looking for some candles, finding a few in another bedroom and even some bath salts.  They smelled divine, lavender and eucalyptus, perfect for relaxing and also shaking loose any remaining crap in her nose from the cold.  

She watched the bubbles foam, fluffy and cloudlike, almost resembling the snow that pillowed along the windowsills outside.  The sun had fully disappeared behind the trees, the stars peeking out.  It was rather breathtaking, maybe even something she might have seen if she'd been up at the Wall with Missandei and Grey instead of down in Dorne, when she had planned to just watch sunsets over red sand dunes and mountains.  Go figure, she was getting the North and she didn't even pay for it.

Stripping out of her hoodie and her granny panties— Jon had thankfully not continued to make fun of her for their use while she was sick—she slipped into the tub, hissing at the first touch of the hot water on her skin, and then moaning in delight, her dragonblood positively singing.  Her brothers jokingly referred to her as "the Unburnt" because for whatever reason she did not feel pain with heat.  Barely even flinched when fire flicked her fingertips as she loaded the fireplace with wood, to Jon's shock.  

It was straight out of the Heavens of Valyria, she thought, sinking fully under the foamy bubbles, the lavender soothing her dry skin, the eucalyptus filling her lungs, crisp and healing.  She reached to adjust her knotty hair, piled on her head, and closed her eyes, groaning happily the deeper she sunk into the tub.  The lights off, the candles all around her, it was how she wouldn't mind spending another power outage.

Ghost was not one to leave her out, his head on the edge of the tub, accepting wet scratches now and then on his head.  She chuckled, opening an eye to peer at him.  "If you want in here, you're welcome to it, but I'm not dealing with that wet dog smell later."

He huffed, annoyed.  

The only thing truly missing, she realized, after an undetermined amount of time later, was some music, a glass of wine, and a very attractive, very sexy, very naked Jon Snow.

"Well look at you."

Eyes springing open, she turned her head sideways, spotting Jon leaning against the door frame.  His sweaty curls slicked at his neck and temples, his t-shirt and sweats damp from the snow and exertion of moving all the firewood around.  In his hands, he had a bottle of beer and a glass of wine.  She smirked.  "Which one is for me?"

"Which one do you prefer?"

"Gimme."

He already knew her, handing her the Dornish red, while he sipped at the Northern ale.  He glanced at Ghost, who was scowling up at him.  "What?  I'm not giving you a bath."

"Am I in his tub?"

"Yes, he likes baths."

"Your dog is very weird Jon Snow."

"Don't I know it."  His eyes darkened, the candlelight shooting off the gray irises in sparks, his lip curling over his teeth in a wry smile.  "In fact, I have to say, I'm a little upset with you."

She smirked, flicking some bubbles at him.  "Oh yeah?"

"Aye, you're sharing bathtime with my dog and not me."

Ghost stuck his nose into the bubbles, blowing them up into the air and snatching them with his teeth, until some went up his nose and he sneezed, rubbing his nose into the rug.  She sat up, peering over the edge of the tub, laughing.  "Oh Ghostie!  You alright prumia?"

The Valyrian for 'my heart' had begun slipping easily when it came to the fluffy dog, who whined, rubbed his nose with his paw, and accepted her kisses, even if some of the water dripped from her arms and shoulders when she leaned over to reach him.  She fell back into the tub, once Ghost had finished with her, and wandered off, the door banging shut after him.  She frowned, about to ask, but Jon answered the unspoken question.

"Aye, he closed the door.  He also likes giving people privacy."

As he had kept to himself, hiding off away from them during those couple nights on the floor in front of the fireplace, she had to thank the dog for that.  She smirked up at Jon, who looked a bit annoyed, and was toeing off his socks, the beer now on the edge of the tub.  She sipped he wine, surveying him appreciatively, the black t-shirt falling to the floor.  She purred, recognizing the gleaming lust in his eyes.  "Who knew jealousy was such a powerful motivator for you?"

"Jealous?" he scoffed.  "No way."

"Hmm."  She disagreed.  

“Is there some space left in that bathtub?”  

When she opened her eyes, she found that he was naked, the sweatpants joining the t-shirt and his socks.  She licked her lips, shifting and gestured; there was more than enough room.  She smirked at him, as he stepped in and yelped.  “Careful, it’s hot,” she cooed.  Gathering some bubbles, she piled them in front of her, annoyed that they shielded her favorite part of him from her gaze.  She had an ulterior motive of course, for hiding her body from him, smirking as he scowled back at her, no doubt mad he couldn’t see beyond the lavender scented shield.

He sank back into the tub, his head popping over the side, leaning on the other edge and his feet sliding along her legs, before they stopped on either side of her arse.  She slipped her leg along his, the salts and soaps giving her skin an added slickness.  He narrowed his eyes on hers and she smiled, innocent, as her foot moved over his calf, his thigh, and then pressed between them, her brows arching.  “Hmm,” she murmured.  “Such…hard work out there.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was alone in bed when I woke up,” she continued.  She sniffed, hoping her voice didn’t have the added thickness to it from her cold.  She was trying to be sexy, scooping up a handful of bubbles and blowing them towards him.  

A little pillow of bubbles landed on his head and he smiled, eyebrow lifting.  “Cute.”

“You do look cute.”  

“I don’t usually like baths.”  He flicked some bubbles away from her chest, scowling again at them.  “They’re blocking the view.”

“Well that’s too bad.”

“It really is.  Makes things…inaccessible too.”

“And what are those?”  Her foot was still sliding along his cock, her toes tickling along the hard, thick length, and suddenly it fell to the side, as he lunged towards her, a wolf with its prey.  Water splashed around them, bubbles everywhere, and before she knew it, his arms were around her thighs, hoisting her up to the edge of the tub, and splaying her legs out.  A wicked grin shot up at her, his sinful lips twisted, and eyes black.  She cried out, before she even knew what was happening, and he tugged her forward, arms wrapped around her legs, which fell over his shoulders, and he dove down.

The first thing she felt was his tongue, spearing straight into her.  “Fuck!” she screamed, clenching around his head and grabbing at his wet curls.  She moaned, long and low, her head falling backwards, smacking against the foggy windowpane.  She kept a hand on his hair and her other fell back as well, grappling for something to hold, and eventually found the edge of the window itself, holding tight to the wooden frame.  

He feasted like a man starved, his tongue slipping in and around her folds, which had already been damp at the sight of him and had grown increasingly slick with her need for him as he teased her and stripped in front of her. She panted, Valyrian babbling with “Jon” and “fuck” and “yes”, everything he did in response to her body’s craving.  His tongue was pure magic, lips suckling here and there, and his hand breaking free of her leg to slip between them, a single thick finger sliding inside, crooking at just the right angle to find the spot inside of her that had her whining, high-pitched, desperate to come.  

Flicking his tongue around her entrance, he gathered up her wetness with it and carried it to her clit, nibbling and sucking the little bud, alternating between giving it the attention she wanted and sliding it back into her, a second finger now joining the first.  He let go of her other thigh, since she was holding herself up and his other hand pressed above her pubic bone, at the exact moment his fingers pressed to that magic spot, the pressure too much for her to bear.  

She was coming, the flame already flickering, and stoked higher and higher.  She gripped his hair so tight; she almost tore it clean from his skull, and when her eyes pried open long enough to meet his, that devious, devilish look that told her he knew exactly what he was doing, she couldn’t take it.  It shattered her, the flame exploding into thousands of tiny ones, engulfing her.  

Hand falling off the window, smearing finger tracks down the condensation, she thrust her hips aimlessly into his mouth, her body clenching, spasming around him.  He carried on, careful of her sensitivity, and kept moving, fingers slipping along, this thumb tapping and circling, and tongue angling through, drinking up her sweetness.  She came again, her body quivering, exhausted.  

It all felt so good, so fuzzy, and she slipped back into the tub, water splashing out over the edges, her head almost falling straight under the top of the still steaming water.  He caught her, turning so she was draped over his chest, the bubbles fading away around them.  His cock was still hard, pressed between his abdomen and hers, and she lifted her hips enough to trap him there, teasing her and him both.  “Soon,” she sighed, eyes closed.  “Give me a minute.”

He brushed his lips over top her hairline, damp now with sweat.  “Feeling better?”

Rising over him as best she could, at the awkward angle, bathwater and bubbles still coating her skin, she reached her hand around his head to pull his mouth to hers, groaning at the taste of herself she still felt on his tongue.  “Oh Jon, you have no idea how good I feel now.”

“Glad to hear it.”  

[viridiave]

NARUMITSU <ATTEMPTING TO READ THE SUBTEXT PLATONICALLY>

*Wrote all this some time last month so I might be off- really really off- also full disclosure I too am a Narumitsu shipper- this is just me giving myself a bad time doing the impossible and having fun XD

-I am going to fail sooner or later. Looking at you, Bridge to the Turnabout.

FIRST GAME >Turnabout Samurai -Yep. We're jumping right in with 'unnecessary feelings'. I'm going to be put on a stake for this. -This is going to become the main argument with any and all homoerotic subtext present in the first game- that it was unintentional. They didn't actively start making it gay until the second game, and even before then the producer for the games had to warn the development team not to try and insert these themes for fear of getting it wrong and lose the fanbase they'd accidentally caught the eye of. I can still create arguments for why this specific, hilariously meme-able line could be read romantically of course- but as far as the game development team at the time was concerned this interaction was never meant to be read as romantic. -Unease and uncertainty are... very valid feelings for Edgeworth to feel at this very moment and as much as I'd like to joke that he was feeling uncertain about his sexuality after seeing his childhood friend as an adult, this line was really just likely meant to lead up to the conclusion of Turnabout Goodbyes and Edgeworth's character arc for this game. His perfect win streak had just been shattered in a case prior. In this case, he was meant to persecute the lead actor of his favorite show- and in some ways his helping the defense can be taken as his biases getting the better of him. His sense of justice and his entire worldview is about to be overhauled, and I can see how he would regard this budding doubt in himself as an unnecessary (heh) distraction from what he believes is his true purpose in life.

>Turnabout Goodbyes -Edgeworth wanting to keep him away from DL-6 has its own section mostly because of how stubborn he becomes when it comes to Phoenix's insistence in particular. It's clear that this stubbornness is a front, I will concede with that- but there are merits to his initial reluctance in accepting Phoenix's defense. It's evident that Phoenix himself has grown over the course of the game so far, but in both of the times that he faced off against Edgeworth in court, his victories were... a tad bit contrived. For instance in Turnabout Sisters, Phoenix really only wins because Mia was being channeled and blackmailed White as he was about to leave the stand. Turnabout Samurai is a little better- but had him rely on quite a lot of coincidences (proven later to be substantiated) that surfaced during the trial. This is nothing to say of the deeper reason Edgeworth has over dissuading Phoenix from taking his case ("You in particular I cannot ask to do this.")- where I can make an argument for his pride and/or concern over Phoenix's career as an attorney. The stakes are relatively high here as well- if Phoenix fails, Edgeworth is incarcerated, Manfred von Karma goes free, DL-6 goes cold once again with no hope of getting re-opened, and everything that Phoenix has been working towards as an attorney would have been in vain. DL-6 is a case that has ruined many lives- it'd make sense if Edgeworth himself felt as though it would be a waste of time and effort to take this case because of how convinced he was of murdering his own father prior to Gourd Lake. He'd grown up for the past 15 years with a nightmare and a death sentence over his head- I wouldn't be surprised if he simply gave up and accepted that he was going to die at the hands of his prosecuting mentor. Even if he were acquitted for the murder of Robert Hammond, his perceived involvement in DL-6 would have thrown a wrench in his freedom- any lesser attorney would have given up on that. And this is unloaded BEFORE Phoenix tells him about the true reason as to why he became an attorney. -Phoenix's insistence to defend Edgeworth in this case can easily just be read as platonic- his complete, unfettered faith in Edgeworth's innocence is heavily influenced by that class trial, for better or for worse. While I'm perfectly happy to imagine that Phoenix's attachment to his idealized version of Edgeworth grew into something deeper sometime in the fifteen years that he hasn't seen him, I do believe that Phoenix in particular really is just that much of a sentimental person. This is to say nothing of his nature as a defense attorney- and what little time he's managed to spend with Mia has taught him that unbridled trust in his client is what gets him through the day, and he's putting it to practice here. Edgeworth was what he has been working towards the moment he decided he would practice law- as Phoenix at this point in time still believes that he could do no wrong despite seeing what Edgeworth is truly like in court. -Cutting into the meat of Phoenix and Edgeworth's shared past, I made a point earlier to say that Phoenix's perception of Edgeworth as a person is idealized. Every memory that Phoenix has had of Edgeworth prior to the events of the first game were from their childhood- and they had 4-8 months (plus one year if we're generous with the retconning some of the official art gave us) MAX to develop a friendship so strong that Phoenix makes major life decisions just to meet with this man. The fact that this time spent together was ENOUGH for Phoenix in the first place is... really hard to skirt around. To quote Dan from GameGrumps "this is something that you would only do for someone you're trying to marry" and if one of them was a woman I guarantee this ship would be canon already. But then again- since this is Phoenix Wright in particular somehow I can believe that he really is just that sentimental- and that isn't always a bad thing. He'd managed to save Edgeworth twice with this conviction after all. When Phoenix sees Edgeworth, he doesn't see a demon prosecutor, he sees his childhood friend who aimed to become a shining example of justice following in his father's footsteps. They address how shaky his foundations for becoming an attorney were in the Phoenix Wright Files once actually- going through a mini-existential crisis because he'd become an attorney with the main goal of saving Edgeworth from what he'd become, and now that he's accomplished that he's just kind of... lost. Edgeworth himself manages to pull him out of this, though. -man that hurts my case a lot actually but to be fair I was banking on failing -I just didn't expect it to happen so early even with the first game -in fact ESPECIALLY with the first game -though I cannot for the life of me wonder how I can come up with a heterosexual explanation for why the buildup towards Edgeworth telling Phoenix and Maya about his nightmares reads so much like a stunted love confession. I'm serious- just read any high school shojo manga ever. You'll find that it hits a lot of the same beats.

>Rise From The Ashes -It's in this case that we observe some of the consequences that the intial upheaval of Edgeworth's worldview in Turnabout Goodbyes causes him; distrust in the enforcement of the law. Not exactly the time for him to be dabbling in another, meme-able brand of unnecessary feelings. Several things like the Prosecutor's Office's relationship with the Police Department starts to waver with the murder of Bruce Goodman, and this becomes the final nail in the coffin for Edgeworth's worldviews and values as a prosecutor. His and Phoenix's teamwork in this trial becomes prevalent- the story behind the King of Prosecutors award represents this best despite it's currently incomplete state. The backstory behind this award paints an ideal of justice in the courtroom wherein the truth comes out as a result of the efforts of contradictory forces. A broken halberd that can cut through any shield (the prosecution) and a broken, unbreakable shield (the defense). Read as representation the text becomes something of a metaphor for the ideal justice that manifests itself in the best parts of Edgeworth and Phoenix respectively- the duality of their opposing professions rather than something that is limited to their relationship. -The same argument that I've used for Phoenix's unwavering belief in Edgeworth's innocence in Turnabout Goodbyes can be used for this case as well. -Though Edgeworth still goes M.I.A for a year after this case, it does grant his disappearance a bit more context as to why exactly it is that he left- and I'll be taking a tiny liberty with this and apply the interpretation that the Miles Edgeworth Files grants us, and that he left in order to better himself and grow as a person, a prosecutor, and as a friend to Phoenix Wright. It's... difficult for me to want to read this as anything but romantically-charged because the narrative beats are NOT lost on me (the dialogue makes this especially hard. send help.)- there's a possibility that Edgeworth at this point in time realizes the value in having a better, more functional dynamic with the one defense attorney who he considers a true equal in court. This dynamic will allow for less chances to encounter missteps and errors in any verdicts handed down in court, and if Edgeworth is to pursue his ideal of justice- Phoenix Wright is undoubtedly essential to this endeavor. The aftermath of Rise From The Ashes is indicative of this newfound goal of his- the symbolism behind the old King of Prosecutors award and the two halves of the evidence list certainly helps this case. -<"It seems all you do is worry about me." -Miles Edgeworth, Rise From The Ashes> For good fucking reason Edgeworth. You were accused of murder and have implicated yourself on the stand for DL-6 just a few months ago- and if the Investigations games are anything to go by, you're more of a danger magnet than PHOENIX is. I had to say it. The first Investigations game takes place over the course of 2-3 days and the sheer amount of shit that Edgeworth had to deal with in between that interval truly makes me wonder how Phoenix Wright ended up with the title of danger magnet. And THIS time- Edgeworth's car becomes a crime scene because his corrupt superiors needed a convenient way of transporting a corpse. There's VERY good reasons to worry about the livelihood of Miles Edgeworth. -Okay I... can't believe I forgot about the chessboard. Here's the kicker- the one we see from his office isn't even the only one he owns. I... legitimately cannot give you ANY purely heterosexual, platonic explanation for why Miles Edgeworth has THREE (THREE. I CANNOT OVERSTATE THIS. HE HAS T H R E E OF THESE FUCKING THINGS. GOOD GOD. HE CAN'T BE ANY MORE EXTRA.)(there exists a similar, portable set in the Investigations games- and he has a new set by the time of Dual Destinies) sets of custom-made chessboards with personalized, highly-specific red and blue designs made purely to depict his rivalry with Phoenix Wright. I fold. I give up. I forgot about the chessboards I wAS NOT EXPECTING TO FAIL THIS E A R LY- -You know what the real kicker is with Rise From the Ashes? The main argument that I have introduced back in Turnabout Samurai does not apply here. Rise From the Ashes was made as a DS-exclusive case and did not exist in the original GameBoy version of the Trilogy. Which means if there is homoerotic tension written in for this case (and there happens to be a lot. the chessboard is proof enough.), then we can safely assume that the writers at this point were well-aware. So yeah- maybe don't feel TOO bad about the unnecessary feelings line- because ever since then the writers have been playing off of that and it SHOWS. -Is there really a point to this I'm just- everything is stacked against me tryna interpret this platonically -Like I know I make a point to say that a romantic relationship isn't the end-all of all relationships because this franchise LOVES pushing the Found Family dynamic and I'm an absolute sucker for that -good god by the time Dual Destinies rolls around I'll probably just give up and happily say they're happily married -that's literally what they act like don't even pretend

[timebird84]

🎄 PotO Advent Calendar 2020 🎄

By @a-partofthenarrative​

“Silver and Gold”

A/N This is a sequel to my 2018 Advent Calendar piece, “Evergreen”. It is not necessary to read that first, but it might be helpful as there are some references to that here. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading. Happy Holidays, y’all!

 Christine loved New York at Christmas.

 The sights, the sounds, the smells…every moment of strolling through the city streets, block by block, had brought an exhilarating thrill that had been absent from her heart for far too many years. Even hours later, as she stood in the kitchen, elbow deep in pie dough, she had been unable to wipe the smile from her face.

 Ms. Fleck had disappeared to somewhere or another at one point, claiming “errands” and leaving Christine to wander lower Manhattan for the better part of an hour. Weighed down by the variety of shopping bags, she had meandered uptown at a leisurely pace, stopping to admire the newly erected Christmas tree in Washington square before making her way up 5th Ave. to Herald Square, where she would find Ms. Fleck and Erik’s odd horseless contraption that had initially spirited her to Coney Island.

 As she passed the stream of elaborate shops boasting anything any man, woman or children could ever desire, she lingered here and there, casting appreciative eyes to the elaborate window displays attracting crowds along the sidewalk. One particular window snagged her attention: a fanciful tower of toys teetering precariously on top of one another, held aloft in some miraculous defiance of gravity. 

 Biting back a smile, she stepped away with a silent resolution to return with Gustave. The poor boy would be positively beside himself when he saw the treasure trove in front of her.

 She had located her shopping companion only moments later and, with confirmation from both parties that their feet and funds were exhausted, bags and passengers were located into the carriage for the trip home.

 At least...she hoped it would become home. Goodness, but it did feel like home; this crazy, complicated family she had formed in a strange netherworld of curiosities. Upon returning to Erik’s home, it had been discovered that they had beaten “the boys” back to the residence, so with no tree to decorate, Christine had set her attention to another one of her favorite holiday pastimes.

 Now, planted firmly in the large kitchen, covered in flour and holiday cheer, she rolled the stubborn dough into a thin sheet, a pie plate stuffed full of apples set to the side patiently waiting for its cover. Satisfied with her work, her fingers had just curled around the edge of the thin sheet when a commotion drew her attention to the front of the house. Brow furrowed, she wiped her hands on her apron and left the kitchen to investigate.

 Ms. Fleck was already present and Christine cast her a questioning look before another shout snapped her eyes to the foyer.

 Dr. Gangle stood just inside the door, the sole member of the group lucky enough to claim the prime position out of the cold, although one’s definition of luck would depend on one’s opinion. The poor man’s arms were wrapped around the top of one of the largest evergreen trees she had ever seen, this one seemingly dwarfing the childhood giant she had described to Erik only hours before. No doubt this had been Gustave’s doing. As his father before him, her son had a tendency to want to “one-up” anyone or anything that he deemed worthy of bragging rights and she bit back a chuckle despite herself. Maybe it was time her beloved masked enigma had a taste of his own medicine; the fact that it was delivered by his own progeny was turning out to be a delightful twist of Fate.

 Shouts echoed from beyond the door, phasing in and out in a cacophony of chaos as the tree twisted and turned in a macabre dance in attempts to be pushed over the threshold.

 “Left! Move it to the left!....No, the OTHER left!”

 “That IS left! Watch it! You’re going to take the paint clean off the frame!”

 “Gangle! Squelch! If either one of you idiots scratches the paint, you’ll be repairing it yourselves with Ms. Fleck’s mascara brush!” 

 Both women watched in stunned silence at the tenuous exchange before Christine glanced down, brow furrowed and voice weary. “Goodness, but it sounds like they’re having some trouble, doesn’t it?”

 The smaller woman shrugged. “Frankly, I’m impressed that the Master knows what a mascara brush is.”

 Christine blinked, unable to answer before the tree moved just so, allowing a small blur through the doorway and straight into her skirts. “Maman!” Gustave beamed up at her, thick snow caked in the hair along his brow. “Look at the tree we found! Isn’t it wonderful? I think it’s even bigger than yours!”

 “It is..something!” she exclaimed brightly, hunkering down to look him in the eyes. “What happened, cherie? You look as though you’ve been caught in a snowstorm.”

 Gustave pulled off his hat and swiped a carelessly palm over his hairline, sending clumps of snow to the wooden floor. “We had the best time! Dr. Gangel and mr. Squelch had a hard time cutting down the tree, so Mr. Y stepped in to help them. Well, the three of them began to argue over which way was the best way and while they were yelling at each other, the tree started to creak and then fell- right toward the sleigh!”

 Christine gasped, feeling slightly “Oh no…”

 “Oh yes!” The boy chattered on, seemingly oblivious to the picture he was painting. “That seemed to get their attention and then they ran toward the sleight. I didn’t get to see much after that because Mr. Y grabbed me, but we ended up in the snow. You should see him, Mama! He looks so funny!”

 “Gustave, do you realize any of you could have been hurt or worse?! Mr. Y likely saved your life!”

 Gustave rolled his eyes in a fashion so similar to Erik that Christine’s breath caught. “Maman, I’m fine. The tree didn’t even land anywhere near us.” His little brow furrowed as he glanced at the tree in the doorway, a frustrated Dr. Gangle staring at its branches with open disdain. “Do you think we’ll be able to get it inside?”

 “I..don’t know, love. I’m sure Mr. Y and the others are doing everything they can.”

 More grunts and shouts caused mother and son to glance up and Christine quickly snatched Gustave and stepped back as the tree hurtled forward, succumbing to a final desperate push from Squelch and Gangle. With one hand planted firmly on her son and the other pressed to her chest, she watched wide-eyed as the men muscled the enormous evergreen deeper into the house, and a masked figure stumble in behind them, shutting the door with an echoing bang and slumping against it with a weary sigh.

.

This man looked nothing like the impeccable figure she had always known. Instead, the man before her was a disheveled mess; wilted against the doorway, chest heaving, hair caked with snow, overcoat askew and one glove and his cravat missing (although really, who wore full evening dress to trek through the woods?).

 With a quiet word and a promise to reconvene soon, Christine sent Gustave upstairs with Ms. Fleck to clean up before pasting a sympathetic smile on her lips and moving to his side. “Oh, my poor Erik,” she soothed, taking his gloveless hand in hers. “Something tells me today did not go exactly as planned.”

 He cracked one eye open at the sound of her voice. “Christine…” Even his voice was exhausted. “Never again…”

 “But Gustave is happy, Erik. You did well.”

 “...and nearly killed us both in the process.”

 “Yes, well, he did mention that,” she muttered. “But thankfully no one was killed or maimed and the tree was delivered successfully…”

 Both eyes opened to regard her now and she only sighed and smoothed a hand over his snow-wet face. “I am nearly done with an apple pie. I meant it to be a surprise, but given the circumstances…” She chuckled at the faint light that came to his gaze at the mention of his favorite dessert, another newly discovered similarity to their son. “Go and clean up while I finish and then we’ll all decorate our new tree together.”

 This brought another groan as Erik let his head fall back against the door with a thump. “Christine, I have a bountiful staff. This is what they are paid for.”

 “Not this year.” she countered. “Besides, decorating is the most fun of all. I’ve already laid out the popcorn to be strung and I picked out some lovely ornaments in the City today.”

 “The City? Christine, you went to Manhattan alone?!?”

 “Of course not, Erik. Ms. Fleck accompanied me” She squeezed his hand. “Now up you go.”

 “But Christine!”

 She met him eye for eye. “Don’t! I am a grown woman. We were perfectly safe. Now go upstairs, change into some fresh clothes and decorate the Christmas tree with your son.” Stepping back, she helped him to his feet, smoothing her hands down the sleeves of his overcoat and pressing a kiss to his frozen lips. “I shall join you as soon as I get this pie in the oven.” 

 *********************************************************************

Nearly an hour later, the pie covered and browning nicely, Christine untied her apron, let down her hair and migrated to the living room where the festivities already appeared to be happening in full swing.

 The tree now stood in the place of honor in the front corner of the room, beautifully centered in front of the large bay window, creating a lovely visual for anyone who happened to pass along the street. Dr. Gangle, Squelch and Ms. Fleck had taken up positions nearby, sorting through the packages and parcels from their shopping excursion, taking turns to comment on the contents of each.

 Muttering from the back corner turned her attention to Erik and Gustave, both dressed in fresh shirtsleeves, waistcoats and trousers, and seated side-by-side on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them. Gustave was attempting to teach his father to string the snack food to create a festive garland that would be just perfect. Erik, bless his heart, listened indulgently as he tried to copy Gustave’s motions. Unfortunately, while the former Opera Ghost was a master of innumerable things, the muttered curses and muffled cries of pain indicated that the needle was making better progress connecting with skin rather than kernels. 

 The rustling of skirts announced her presence to the room and Erik immediately set the string and bowl aside as he stood to greet her. “Ah, there you are, Christine. Would you care to ah...take over the garland crafting?”

 Biting back a smile at his attempts to cover his inadequate stringing skills, she gave him an impish grin as she drew near. “And deprive you of the experience? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

 “It’s all right, Maman,” Gustave commented, never taking his eyes from his work. “He’s not very good at it.”

 Erik’s gaze snapped to hers as if to say There! You see? but she quickly and quietly tempered it with one of her own. “Not everyone excels at the same things, Gustave. But if there is one thing I know about Mr. Y, it is that he has quite the eye for making beautiful things.”

 “Except popcorn garland,” Gustave supplied.

 Erik’s expression was positively indignant as she worked to suppress the quirk of her lips. “So it would seem.”

 “We’ve got all of the ornaments arranged for you when you’re ready, Boss,” Squelch announced, waving a hand over the various boxes of colored bulbs laid out beside the tree. “Ms. Christine picked up quite the selection.”

 “Wonderful. Thank you, all.” Erik managed, taking Christine’s hand as they approached the tree. “Shall be begin?”

 The three glanced between themselves, then back at the Master and his lady. “You want us to help?”

 “Of course!” Christine smiled, “besides, none of this would have been possible without you.”

 No further permission was needed by any of the parties. Gustave, finished with his popcorn garland, wound it around the tree, accepting assistance from Erik and Dr. Gangle at different points depending on height and availability. Christine, Squelch and Ms. Fleck declared themselves in charge of the myriad colors of ornaments and directed where and what were hung until the tree was transformed from a blank green palette to a wonder of color and light.

 One of the most important purchases for Christine had been a set of candles for Advent. “This was one of my favorite traditions growing up,” she remarked as she struck a match. “With all of the traveling my father and I did, there were many of our traditions that we were forced to forego, but he always made certain we had a set of candles for Advent.” With a radiant smile, she lit their first candle, relishing in the pop and crack of the wick catching fire. “This one represents hope.”

“The second represents faith,” Passing the match to Gustave, she helped him light the second candle before offering it to the masked man standing at her side. Wordlessly, he accepted it, his expression unreadable as he set the match to the wick and the third candle spring to life. “And the third,” she supplied, meeting Erik’s gaze over the flickering flame, “is for joy.” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips then and her heart squeezed a bit tighter in her chest.

 “What about the other candles?” Gustave asked.

 Christine blew out the match and smiled down at him. “Traditionally, there are four Sundays in Advent and each week one more candle is lit. The fifth is lit on Christmas Eve. We’ve started a bit late this year, as it’s nearly Christmas, but all will be lit as the season progresses.”

 Gustave studied the candles, then glanced at her “Did mofar teach you any other traditions that we can have here?”  

 “Oh, cheri, so many! Although, we rarely had the chance to partake in any of them given that we were never in Sweden much after my fifth birthday. The legend of St. Lucia, julbord, julklapper.” She brightened. “I may be able to make julmust for Christmas Eve if I can find the proper ingredients. That is, if you don’t mind, Erik?”

 Slipping an arm around her waist, he remarked. “I want to know everything that is important to you, ange. If it makes you and Gustave happy, then consider it done.”

 The boy’s attention shifted to him then. “What about you, Mr. Y? Did you have any traditions growing up?”

 Erik’s panicked eyes immediately shot to her and Christine smoothly took control of the conversation. “Gustave, I’m sure Mr. Y knows many of the same holiday traditions that you do.”

 “But he’s never even had a Christmas tree before…”

 “And there were many years where I did not either. Like myself, Mr. Y has spent a great deal of his life traveling, haven't you, Erik?”

 “I have,” the masked man confirmed, but offered no further explanation.

 Thankfully, this seemed to satisfy the boy for the moment. “So... we’re blending. Maman’s traditions with Mr. Y’s?”

 Christine glanced at Erik, who looked as lost as she felt. “Er…”

 “In a sense, I suppose,” Erik supplied. “But perhaps it is more accurate to say that we are starting our own traditions. As a..” he trailed off suddenly, his normally stoic face slipping into something akin to sudden wonder.

 “As a family?” Gustave ventured.

 “Yes, my love,” Christine whispered, fingers covertly creeping into Erik’s palm as he held her hand like a lifeline. “Exactly that.” Drawing him close to her side, she bent down to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve had an exciting day and according to that clock in the hall, it is much past your bedtime. Say goodnight to everyone and I’ll be up in a moment.”

 “Ah, actually, Christine, may I speak with you for a moment?” Erik cut in.

 “Come on, little master,” Ms. Fleck said with a wink, catching Erik’s eye. “If you can get your nightclothes on, I’ll read you a story before your mama comes to tuck you in.”

 Gustave broke into a grin, pecking Christine on the cheek before dashing for the stairs. Christine watched him go with a loving smile before tipping her head back to smile up at the man stationed behind her. “Look at how happy he is, Erik. You gave him one of the best days, despite all of the trials that came with it. That boy worships the ground you walk on.”

 “I care for him in a way that I never knew I was capable of,” he admitted, tucking her hand in his arm and turning to the tree. “I would move heaven and earth for that boy.”

 “Welcome to parenthood, my love,” she whispered.

 With a sigh, Erik moved to stand before her, cloaked in the colors cast by the candles flames against the glass ornaments of the tree. “Christine, I admit I’ve been struggling when it comes to you and Gustave. I am not proud of it, but you must understand that I spent the majority of my life in utter solitude. Even in our...early acquaintance, the very notion that someone would care for me, let alone that I would one day have a son of my own…. was laughable.

 “Both of us know how the last story ended and quite frankly, as far as I was concerned, that was the end,” He shook his head, glancing down to the floor. “But then our paths converged again, ten years later with the knowledge of Gustave...and almost losing you again...it awoke something in me, Christine. Something that made me realize that I never want to feel that way again.

 “You, my darling, are the only thing that matters to me. You and Gustave and, if it is agreeable to you, you would make me innumerably happy if you would remain in Coney Island.”

 Her breath caught as the weight of what he was asking began to sink in. “Erik, are you…?

 He gripped her hands tighter, gaze steady, but pleading. “Stay with me, Christine. Be my wife. Let’s give Gustave the family we should have been from the beginning.”

 ‘Erik…” she whispered, leaning her forehead into his chest as tears flooded her eyes. “Truly?”

 In response, he pulled a box from his vest pocket, flipping it open to reveal a diamond solitaire. On one side, a band of gold, warm and radiant, linked a band of silver on the other, cool but elegant, joining in metallic harmony to cradle the diamond that winked up at her.

 “Oh, Erik…” she breathed again, “it’s stunning”

 “I know the tradition is bended knee, but I seem to have had a traumatic incident with a rather aggressive evergreen,” he replied dryly, “so I hope you’ll forgive...”

 “Yes.”

 He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

 “Yes. I’ll marry you. We shall stay.” Christine beamed up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “With all of my heart, I love you, you stubborn boar. The answer is ‘yes’.” Curling her fingers around the edges of his waistcoat she pulled him forward in a flash of motion and kissed him thoroughly in front of said evergreen tree.

 A chorus of enthusiastic cheers broke the spell a moment later and the couple turned to see Gustave, Ms. Fleck, Dr. Gangle and Squelch positively glowing at them from the stairs. “Way to go, Boss!”

 “Yes, well...” Erik sputtered, looking to Christine for assistance. She only chuckled, kissed him deeply again and extended her left hand, to which he responded by obediently sliding the ring on her finger.

 Gustave rushed down the stairs to embrace them both, begging to see his mother’s ring, then beaming up at Erik as if he had just been handed the world on a plate. “Does this mean I can call you ‘Father’ now?”

 Christine’s breath caught as her brown eyes collided with Erik’s mismatched ones, which looked slightly watery again. She watched as his throat bobbed, silently struggling for control before managing an answer. “Of course, my boy. You may call me whatever you wish,” he said, stooping down to look the boy in the eye. “You are my son and I am sorry if I’ve done anything to make you feel as though I’ve held you at arm’s length. I..love you, Gustave. I always have.”

 Christine pressed her hands to her mouth, tears flowing anew as the boy’s mouth trembled and he launched himself into the arms of the masked man whom he had come to idolize. Erik caught him, holding him in an awkward embrace as he met Christine’s teary smile, unbidden moisture already beginning to track down his visible cheek.

 Erik stood, bringing Gustave with him and Christine moved forward to join the embrace. As Erik’s free arm came around her and Gustave’s little hand held tight to hers, she was sure her heart would burst. 

 Her father used to say that a broken, battered path often led to the most beautiful destination and as she stood in the embrace of the two men she loved most in the world, bathed in the silver and gold glow of the candles and Christmas lights, she knew that she was finally home.

 With a family of her own making.

 As it always should have been.

 Eyes slipping closed, her fingers languidly trailed up and down Erik’s spine and smiled as the large hand at her waist squeezed her imperceptibly closer.

 From this day forward, as it always would be.

[fandom-necromancer]

Coffee, crushes and complications 

This was prompted by a lovely anon! I hope you like it, I sure did!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: pre-Reed900 [Prequel]   [Part2]   [Part3]   [Part4]

 ‘Reed? In my office!‘ Gavin couldn’t think of what he had done wrong, but considering how many times he had heard this sentence before, the anxiety settled in immediately. Still, he stood up, downed the last sip of coffee and walked over to his boss’ office. ‘Yes? What’s wrong?’, he asked, sitting down in the chair in front of the table. ‘What’s wrong?’  The man in front of him laughed heartily and Gavin nervously laughed, too. God, had he phcked up that badly with his last job? ‘Reed, nothing’s wrong, quite the opposite! How you handled this rich asshole was… I would say impressive, but that doesn’t do the thing justice. God, how they could ever throw you out of the police force, I can’t understand. You didn’t let him off the hook until he answered your questions and gave him nothing to work with! That is investigative journalism at it’s finest and damnit, Reed, no one else deserves it more!’ ‘What?’, Gavin asked relieved, but also proud. ‘A raise! I would promote you, but I need you where you are now. I hope you understand that?’ ‘Hey, sure. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than in the field.’ ‘Alright. Then I’ll just sign the papers and send them to you. Really, Reed, you out-did yourself with this one!’

-

When Gavin came home that day, the first thing he did was jump and cheer in triumph, then pick up his unsuspecting cat and hurl her around. ‘Oh, Bready, today is the day!’ He kissed her on her shoulder, before she finally decided she had enough with an angry growl. Immediately Gavin let her fall to the ground and hurried to the kitchen, grabbing the phone along the way. The number he searched for was only two clicks away and he let it ring while pouring out some kibble for Bready and heating up yesterday’s leftovers. ‘Hey, Eli!’, he excitedly called into the phone. ‘How are you? You won’t believe what happened today!’ He let his brother guess a few times until the microwave pinged and he let himself and his food fall on the couch. ‘Urgh, Eli you are boring and have too much creativity at your hands. No, I got a raise! Honestly, getting fired might have been the best thing to ever happen to me. I get raises for being a nosy asshole! My new boss phcking loves me and my colleagues actually seem to like me. Oh, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. We need to celebrate that! When are you free?’

He took a breath and began eating while listening to his brother complain about new work politics. Gavin actually felt with him for once. His view on androids had changed quite a bit. He got to know quite a few androids during his work and the day one of his colleagues had come in in tears saying they would have to resign because of some anti-android assholes, Gavin had changed. It had only been a few months since he started his new life, but for the first time he felt like he had his life under control. And like he enjoyed it. Being fired from the only job he thought to be ever good in had been hard. But after being stuck in that low for weeks he had realised that if he wanted to be happy, he had to work for it. And he did. And it had become better. Seeking professional help, reconciling with his brother and finally finding a new job he actually liked had been the end of a long journey that was far from over. But he was happy. And he was confident it would go up only from now on.

Their conversation dropped into casual talk, a few jokes and teasing. It was already late when Gavin decided to end it for today. He was tired and he wanted to at least watch another episode of this new show he enjoyed so much. ‘Okay, so when do you actually have time? Tomorrow? Nah, can’t do, I’m meeting Tina at this new coffee shop. Maybe on the weekend? Yes? Oh, that would be awesome. Okay, bye! Love you too!’

He smiled as he wanted to stand up to bring the phone back, but Bready had already made herself at home in his lap, so he just laid it to the side and switched on the TV.

-

‘Hey Tina!’, Gavin greeted the woman already standing in line. She turned around and her face lit up. Shortly after, Gavin was encased in strong arms and had to chuckle. ‘Hey, hey, let me down, alright?’ ‘God, I haven’t seen you in ages!’ ‘You saw me last month’, Gavin reminded her. ‘I see you dipshit every week on TV! That’s not the same. I miss you.’ ‘Wait you watch it?’ ‘Of course I watch it!’, Tina said and punched his shoulder. ‘What do you think of me? Also, it’s funny seeing you be a dick to people that obviously hide one or two bodies under a rug somewhere.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Well, whatever floats your boat.’ ‘It’s good to see you like it’, Tina then said seriously. ‘I worried about you after you left.’ ‘I know’, Gavin groaned. ‘But I’m fine, okay? Really, I feel better than ever. Now shut your mouth for a while, I have to think what I want to order for a moment…’

They got their coffee and tea as well as two slices of cake soon enough and sat down in a corner of the room. ‘So, how’s work on your end?’, Gavin asked. ‘Hmm, nothing interesting at the moment. We had a suspected serial killer last week, but it turned out the cases weren’t connected after all and thankfully nothing more than the two murders happened before we got them. Otherwise… Nah, nothing interesting you want to talk about.’ So only stuff regarding the new guy. Gavin had said upfront he didn’t want to know anything about the person that had replaced him. It wouldn’t be any use after all. Tina thankfully respected his decision.

‘I did get to know someone’, she then smirked as silence threatened to stretch. ‘A beautiful, funny android lady. She also likes cats!’ ‘Oh that’s cool, tell me more!’, Gavin demanded and smiled, listening to Tina ramble on, cake and tea completely forgotten. Gavin had been determined to listen intently to her, but his attention was drawn from her as someone entered the coffee shop. Someone very familiar. ‘You got to be kidding me’, he hissed, and Tina caught on to him, turning around. There at the counter stood Hank and Connor, looking at the board. Wait. Was that another Connor? ‘Hey, T, who’s the other Connor?’, he whispered. ‘Can’t tell you without breaking a promise’, she admitted, ducking her head. ‘No phcking way a damn Connor replaced me!’

Maybe he had been louder than expected, maybe Connor just had picked up his name, but the RK800 turned around to him, eyes going wide and tapping Hank on the shoulder pointing over. Hank looked in his direction and apparently wanted to bolt immediately, but the friendly barista behind the counter had already placed their drinks on it. In that moment, the other Connor following them had spotted him too. The next thing he did was march over with large steps.

‘Oh hell no, I’m not doing this! I-‘ ‘Hello. My name is Richard. I’m sorry to have replaced you.’ ‘Oh, get phcked!’ Gavin was not having it. He had wanted to drink his coffee and talk to his best friend. He had no interest in talking to this machine. ‘I have waited very long for this moment, my colleagues having tried their best to make this meeting impossible. So, no, I won’t “get phcked”. Not before I you didn’t accept my apology.’ ‘Yeah, whatever. It’s fine. I was an asshole. Deserved getting fired. Now shoo!’ ‘I still don’t deserve getting a job when a human needs them to survive. It wasn’t fair. I heard you… did not fare well after being fired.’ Gavin took a deep breath, before standing up, the sound of the chair scratching on the ground like a precursor of a fight. ‘Listen here, Richard’, he said, pointing his finger at his chest. ‘My personal history doesn’t concern you in the slightest, okay? It’s true, I wasn’t stable in my old job. I was easily angered, I overworked myself on a regular basis without even realising it in the end. I had no friends. I am depressed. My life was one giant, gaping shithole. When I was fired it was for a good reason, but it send me spiralling even deeper down. But you know what? One day I hit rock bottom and knew it couldn’t get any worse than this, might as well try to make it better. And I worked hard for it. I worked my ass off trying to rebuild bridges I’ve burned and seek help. Get over my own walls and live. Be happy. Find a job. And you know what, you goddamn tin-can? I did it. I am a different man and I am happy. So don’t-‘ He took another breath to steady himself. ‘Don’t you dare giving me pity. I am no sorry broken soul you can comfort so you feel better! So you have completed your good deed a day! I am fine. I am better than fine. So thanks, but no thanks. Don’t need it. Phck off.’

That actually worked. The android blinked at him, obviously processing, before apologising and heading over to where Connor and Hank had sat down. Gavin got back on his seat, too and took a large gulp of his coffee. As he sat the mug down, he stared into a grinning face. ‘What?’ ‘So aggressive’, Tina laughed. ‘Dude, the guy just wanted to be nice.’ ‘Oh, did he?’, Gavin grumbled and tried to get an inconspicuous look at the android. Of course, he had chosen the same moment Richard had looked over at him, so he quickly turned back around. ‘Yes’, Tina chuckled. ‘You don’t know how annoying he can be. Replacing you being unfair is the one topic he can’t shut up about.’ ‘Perfect’, Gavin sighed, but couldn’t keep his thoughts in check. Had this android really tried to advocate for someone he didn’t even know? ‘Yeah, always said how after going through your open cases and notes, he couldn’t believe someone fired you. He thinks you are some kind of genius I think.’ ‘Oh, wow, an android has a work-crush on me’, Gavin over-exaggerated and rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, you wouldn’t be that far from the truth there’, Tina shrugged. ‘”Gavin Reed would not have” is like every second sentence of his. It’s cute actually. And ever since you put him in his place just now, he is staring at you, that fancy mood-light turning yellow.’ ‘It’s what-‘ Gavin turned around, cursing when he stared in his eyes again: ‘Shit! What’s his problem? Anyways, you wanted to tell me more about Steph. Please. I beg you. Ramble about your soon to be girlfriend, I want to think about anything but this android.’

-

Richard on the other hand knew exactly what his problem was. He had exactly 335 software instabilities and errors to keep track of while he couldn’t keep his eyes off this human. He had known the man to be remarkable. But after that reaction? Oh, he definitely had to get to know him better. So, long after the human had left the shop and even after he had driven home, Richard was still planning how to see the man again. Maybe Tina had been right. Maybe he truly had a crush.

[>next part]

[a-libra-writes]

Queens - Daenerys x Dragon Owner!Reader

this was a request! finally got it finished whoop whoop. I took a lot of liberties, sorry about that~ 😅

Summary: Daenerys meets a strange woman who has far more in common with her than most.

Daenerys thought she would feel something. She thought she’d hear something, at least. Instead, there was a yawning opening of a cave, completely silent and dark. Just stepping in a few paces, she could feel the temperature drop in spite of the broad daylight outside. 

The sound of Jorah’s armor was close to her. She could hear the knight’s worry without even looking at him. “Khaleesi, we can’t be sure it isn’t a trap.”

It would be the boldest trap she’d ever heard of. While word was beginning to spread about the Mother of Dragons and her three children, each story more exaggerated than the next, it was odd that this particular rumor was kept so quiet until now. She could scarcely believe it, but here she was, wishing it was true.

People said all sorts of absolutes - There are no more dragons, there is no magic, there is no khalasar led by a khaleesi - yet, hadn’t she seen the contrary? The more Daenerys heard absolutes, the less she believed them.

So here she stood, at the entrance of the supposed location of another dragon, and the person who hatched it. A bold rumor, but weren’t the things they said about her even bolder?

It wouldn’t take long to investigate, and Daenerys tried to hide the anticipation pulling at her. She insisted on going herself, throwing some excuse out, in lieu of sending her bloodriders or Jorah. She left the safety of Qarth for just a day to see this for herself. 

Daenerys walked into the coldness, her strongest child on her shoulder. Drogon’s lack of fear gave her courage. If anything, he smelled the damp cave air in curiosity. Would he smell the dragon first? 

The cave floor was mostly solid beneath her feet, with a few patches of spongy spots here and there. Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and several feet behind her, Ser Jorah was holding a torch. Dark as it was, the light reflected slightly off small piles of bones. Daenerys stopped at one of them and looked at it carefully. Drogon hopped off her shoulder to do his own investigation. The bones were charred black, and brittle. The small dragon happily took one in his mouth and gnawed at it, snapping it into fragments.

“Goat and sheep, it seems,” Jorah said, nudging one of the bigger bones with his foot. “The way it’s broken up, it wasn’t consumed by humans.”

“Nor scorched by them.” The bones still carried the faint and familiar smell of fire. It encouraged her rather than frightened her. “Let’s press on.”

They came to a narrow passageway that opened to a large cavern. Here there were small, makeshift torches and a little burning brazier on the floor. Daenerys squinted her eyes to make out the shapes in the shadows. There were bundles of blankets neatly laid about, some bowls and urns, even a small chest that gleamed with some kind of metal. 

She was studying so carefully that Drogo’s sudden movement startled her. The dragonling returned to her shoulder, pressing his talons into her shoulder almost too tightly. His small growl, mighty as he thought it was, only echoed slightly off the wall.

She saw what he was upset with. A form emerged from the shadows, a tall set of wings rising up from shoulder blades. Daenerys steeled herself until the form entered the light, looking more like a woman and less like a monster.

The wings sat at her shoulders, then the dragon’s head rose. Its golden scales glinted in the limited light, yet Daenerys could still see the red of its eyes. Her breath caught as she stared at it, a beautiful creature nearly the size of a dog, perched on the woman’s shoulders. Daenerys forgot about Drogon’s smaller talons pressing into her own skin.

The woman regarded her just the same. “How did you find me, khaleesi?”

The woman spoke with an accent Daenerys couldn’t place. She used the tongue of Valyria, although it was awkward in her pretty mouth. “You know who I am?”

“Most do. You do not hide.” 

“As you are?” Daenerys couldn’t believe the rumor was true. She had so many questions, but it was all coming in a jumble. “Why are you here in a place like this? Why aren’t you … For so long, the world thought dragons were gone.”

The woman said nothing at first. While she looked down, her dragon had yet to stop staring directly at Daenerys. “Magic could never be truly gone. People just don’t look hard enough.”

Drogon chirped at the gold dragon, whose response was a deeper and louder chirp. Daenerys watched it in awe, wondering if this is what others felt when they saw her’s. She marvelled at the little things, of course, but in front of her was what they would be, and they were still growing.

“You should go,” The woman said. Her voice had become hard. “You should leave here, khaleesi, and leave Qarth.”

How had she known? Daenerys thought, but a different question got to her lips. “Will you not come with me?”

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“The world believes dragons are dead. When mine are grown, I plan to take back what is mine - the throne my family was killed for. If you came with me -”

“No.” The woman said swiftly. “I know all about your ambitions, khaleesi. I won’t be a part of them.”

“They aren’t mere ambitions.” Daenerys felt her anger rising, and she understood what this woman was saying. “And what do you plan to do with that dragon? Hide away in this cave? What happens when he becomes older?”

The woman cast her eyes down again. She said, “That is not something to concern yourself with.”

Daenerys caught how she touched her dragon’s golden muzzle, and as the shadows danced, she noticed deep marks in the woman’s shoulders, the old stains on her dress. The khaleesi now realized it was dried blood, and the marks patterned into her shoulder and arms were scars.

Daenerys wouldn’t be dismissed so easily, but the woman was turning away from her. Even her golden dragon seemed to share her disinterest, and both the khaleesi and her dragon were left watching them disappear into the darkness. Daenerys realized there was more to the cave than she initially thought.

She stepped forward, but Jorah said, “We shouldn’t.”

The woman disappeared into the blackness of the cave, and only the meager little room and its low burning torches were left. Drogon restlessly flew from Daenerys’ shoulder and away from her, toward the mouth of the cave, where the open sky was awaiting him. 

“Khaleesi, we’ve spotted it.”

The chair scratching across the floor echoed through the grand chamber, but Daenerys paid it no heed. She was close on Grey Worm’s tail as he added, “Quickly.”

He didn’t need to tell her twice. Daenerys nearly ran ahead of him as she came to the wide balcony of the grand pyramid. Against the brilliant blue sky, she saw it. Its scales glittered far more beautifully than any jewels that had been laid at her feet. Under the sun, it was radiant, just like her own. She couldn’t mistake that gold color.

It was as large as a small house now. If she were someone with poorer eyesight, or someone more ignorant, she could mistake the dragon for Viserion. However, her youngest mostly had scales of cream, and was not nearly so big. Not even Drogon was this size. 

“How long has it been here?” She asked impatiently.

“Only minutes. It came from the clouds.” Grey Worm said. “The people think it is your’s, khaleesi.”

That was for the better. It had been so many moons since she’d met that woman in the cave. Her eyes still haunted Daenerys, but more than that, her calm posture as her dragon dug its claws into her skin. Daenerys visited that cave several times before she left Qarth. Hadn’t the woman warned her about it? But where was she? Why did she hide herself, and her dragon, and for how long? 

She hated these unanswered questions. For a moment, Daenerys thought they’d never be answered -- what if that woman had died, and now her dragon roamed free?

No. The way she could control it, as young as it was … She must be here in Meereen.

“Have the streets searched.” Daenerys said. “I’ll have a description given to the Unsullied, even a picture painted, if that’s what they need. She must be here.”

The gold dragon had become a fleck in the sky, gone quickly as it came. Daenerys wondered if her own children had seen it, but they didn’t fly overhead. This was the time they spent hunting, anyway. They’d become more independent, and wouldn’t be back for hours. 

It was startling to see the woman in the brightness of her throne room, and not the darkness of the cave. Daenerys had replayed those quick moments over and over so much, she thought she’d memorized the woman’s face, but now she realized how much she missed to the shadows. 

The woman was far younger and prettier than she’d initially thought, and the light in her eyes made her look far less apprehensive. Her hair was done simply but neatly, and while she had a proper dress that was clean and well-fitted, it was just as simple. Her only fine accessory was a stylized broach that held the front of her dress together. Daenerys couldn’t make out the shape from where she sat.

“Khaleesi.” The woman gave a polite bow, not looking confident in the gesture. 

“There is no need to bow to me.” Daenerys decided as she said it. “Nor should we act so formal here. Will you speak to me in private?”

The woman hesitated a moment before nodding in agreement. She followed Daenerys to a more cozy and private meeting chambers, where all were called out, even Missandei. A young serving girl gave them a large pitcher of water and poured two cups before exiting.

Daenerys was buzzing with too much curiosity. She got straight to the point. “I’d like to have your name.”

“Y/N,” The woman said. 

She said it far more easily than Daenerys expected, given how … restrained she was in their first meeting. She hadn’t expected that name, either, but it fit. 

“Y/N.” Daenerys tested it out for herself. She looked at the broach and finally made out its shape: A circle of teeth carved like a dragon’s encircling some deep green rock. Perhaps it was an unpolished emerald. 

Y/N looked almost lost without the darkness to hide inside, but she still looked Daenerys in the eyes. “I told you to leave Qarth, and then you came to Meereen … With some roads in between.”

“You’ve been keeping track of me?”

“I don’t need to. All of Essos speaks of you now.” Y/N glanced aside, toward the window.

Daenerys followed her gaze, and she saw the faint glittering of the dragon’s wings in the sun. It must have been coming back. 

“Yet they don’t speak of you. There’s a fourth dragon in the world, and this is only the third time I’ve seen it.” Daenerys turned back to Y/N. “You can’t tell me you’ve spent all this time hiding in that cave. Where have you been? Where has your dragon been?”

“The same places as me,” Y/N said, a little twinkle of humor in her eyes. “Well, just higher up, I suppose.”

A silence passed between them, one that wasn’t entirely comfortable, but it wasn’t strained, either. Daenerys looked at the woman, she was closer than she’d even been before. She looked tired. With this closeness, Dany could see the partially faded scars running up her shoulders and around her arms. 

Y/N noticed her staring. “I can’t control it anymore.”

“... What do you mean? Has it tried to hurt you?”

“No, because I pick my battles. It’s grown too large and strong to keep close.” Y/N sighed and pushed her cup away from her. She’d hardly had any water. “This is why I came to see you, khaleesi. I was hoping to slip away from it, but it followed me all the same. I hope that hasn’t brought trouble.”

“It hasn’t. Why would it?”

Y/N’s eyes were lovely with the sun falling on them like this, especially as she tilted her head and let some of her hair brush across her scarred shoulders. Her eyes were much older than the rest of her. She’d been carrying this burden for years, and Daenerys had a feeling she’d only seen a small part of it. 

“One dragon is difficult enough, but you have three of them. It won’t be long before you lose your hold on them, khaleesi.”

“They’re my children,” Daenerys said firmly. “I’ve taught them and trained them since their birth. I know how to control them.”

“You know how to control children. Dangerous children, who will only become more powerful. One human can’t hope to --”

“I’m not one human,” Daenerys’ note isn’t harsh, but it is harder than what she used before. She squares her shoulders and sits upright, a proper Queen all respects. “I’m Daenerys Targaryen, and my ancestors rode dragons to conquer Westeros. I intend to do the same.”

Y/N was not subdued by this. Daenerys should’ve found the obstinate look in her eyes a challenge, a slight, but it was good to see something other than fatigue on the girl’s face and body. She merely nodded. “As you say, khaleesi.”

Five days later, a sobbing farmer dropped a burnt bundle at Daenerys’ feet. Swathes of cattle and sheep had been burnt and eaten whole before, but this was the first time she saw a little charred body. Her dragons didn’t even eat it all.

Y/N said nothing as the father’s body shook with anguish. She sighed deeply when he left, and that was all Daenerys needed to understand.

At Daenerys’ request, Y/N stayed in a guest room. She almost seemed as though she’d refuse the request, and was more or less pushed in and ordered to rest. Her first day, she bathed herself quickly and slept for nearly twelve hours. Then she ate bits of the dinner that was brought to her, and went right to sleeping again.

Once she emerged from the chamber with a new dress, a proper meal and more sleep than she’d had in months, Y/N was radiant. The sun of Meereen seemed to favor her, as everything from her hair to skin shone when she walked the gardens of the Great Pyramid. She was most at peace here, a rare moment when her expression wasn’t cloudy and troubled. Y/N was loveliest like that.

Daenerys felt silly for watching her enjoy the gardens instead of talking to her. Y/N bowed her head as Dany came into her view. “Good morning, khaleesi.”

Daenerys had a sudden wish to hear her name from those lips, not her titles. She pushed the distracting thoughts aside. “I wanted to talk to you. Could I sit here?”

“Of course.” Y/N gave Daenerys room on the stone bench she was resting on. Her new dress was technically a single bolt of soft cloth wrapped around her body and secured in place with a pretty metal belt and fixings on her shoulders. They were a gilded gold, like her dragon’s scales. When Daenerys gifted it to the woman, she feigned that it was something she did for all guests. Privately, Daenerys hoped she liked it. Y/N wore it often, so she must have. That was a pleasant thought.

Y/N tilted her head in curiosity. That’s when Daenerys realized she hadn’t said anything further. “I’ve been thinking about the boy, the one … that was brought to me, and what you said to me. You didn’t want me to chain the dragons.”

“I still don’t,” Y/N’s smile fell just slightly. That disappointed Dany more than she thought it would. “Did something happen? Are you considering it again?”

“No,” Daenerys said quickly. “I was just thinking. You seemed to have experience with this. … I don’t know much about you. I wanted to learn more.”

Y/N’s smile may have left, but the blush on her cheeks was even better. Daenerys hadn’t expected it, nor did she expect the girl’s eyes to flutter down in modesty. 

Daenerys took Y/N’s hand in her own, and the warmth of it was kinder than the sunlight hitting her cheek. The gesture had surprised Y/N - she looked up with those pretty eyes, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, her cheeks looked even more pink. 

“I want to learn more about you,” Daernerys said, careful with her words in case any more would spill out. “You know about me, after all.”

The smile was back in full force, and it’s sweetness was almost too much. “I said I heard the rumors, khaleesi. If you wish to know me, then I’d like to know you better, too.” 

“It’s a deal.”

She squeezed the slightly calloused hand in her own, comforted by the way Y/N squeezed back. 

She woke up feeling cold. Daenerys didn’t open her eyes, but she sleepily reached forward to confirm her suspicions. As luxurious as a feathered bed with silken covers was to Y/N, it was still other. Sometimes she struggled to settle in comfortably, especially when she was already kept up with her restlessness.

Daenerys sat up and rubbed her shoulders. A lazy night breeze drifted into the room, and she blinked through her sleepiness as she saw the outline of Y/N sitting at the open window. She’d thrown a robe on and curled herself up on the ledge, looking down at the still streets of Meereen.

“I’d think you’d be looking at the stars,” Daenerys said once she was at Y/N’s side. It was nearly a full moon, and a silvery light was washing over the two of them, like it was made just for them. Daenerys hadn’t had such silly thoughts for some time, but Y/N tended to bring them out in her. 

Y/N opened her arms and Daenerys comfortably rested against her, still tired. She patted the khaleesi’s long, curling hair, almost the same color of the moon itself. “I am very familiar with the stars. It’s the city that’s new to me.” 

Daenerys closed her eyes and took in Y/N’s scent, fresh from the bath they took hours ago, but the soap was giving away to her own natural scent and warmth. Her skin was smooth now, from months of enjoying the soaps and oils, and her face stopped looking so drawn and weary. She smiled more than ever, laughed even, but there were still nights like these. Y/N had spotted her dragon with Drogon that morning, and since then, she’d be withdrawn.

“They only grow stronger,” Y/N said. Her hand was running down Daenerys’ back now, and Dany shivered pleasantly. “I’m glad they’re fond of each other.”

Daenerys hummed her agreement. It just seemed right, their dragons joining together as a family. It made Daenerys feel like her bond with Y/N was stronger than most, something more binding than a marriage. A bonding of dragons, emphasizing the bond of their hearts.

In the few daydreams she allowed, she thought of this being stronger than any marriage, something more than a queen to stay at her side. They’d be the new Visenya and Rhaenys for Westeros, but without a king. They didn’t need one. 

Daenerys didn’t tell these fancies to Y/N. Not yet, anyway.

It was hard to stay tired with such things running through her head. Daenerys sat up and gave a proper kiss to her lover, whose lips she was already missing. The smile was back, so Daenerys kissed her neck. 

Y/N was ticklish, but she didn’t attempt to move Dany away. She just reclined further into the the cushioned window sill, and Dany gladly rested against her. She brushed her hands across Y/N’s shoulder and arm, across scars that were visible even in the moonlight. 

There were other marks besides those, ones that Y/N hid for years. Dany suspected she was the only person who had seen them. Burns and bites, covered by silken and linen dresses, proof that Y/N’s dragon had become too much for the cave they stayed in for too long.

I don’t begrudge my dragon for it, Y/N had said. I was the one trying to keep a bird in a mountain.

Those were the same words she used when the child’s body was dropped at Daenerys’ feet, more or less. She gently touched Dany’s arm. Khaleesi, please don’t. Don’t keep them somewhere without their sky, without the fresh air. 

All three of her dragons had come to be fond of Y/N, as well as they could be, because she understood. She may have only raised one, but she seemed to just know the other three. Rhaegal was especially fond of her, Viserion preferred her dragon, and Drogon was surprisingly steady around both. 

Daenerys sighed in contentment and nuzzled against Y/N’s neck, planting a few kisses there before she settled in. 

Y/N’s voice was full of sweet amusement. “Love, I cannot carry you back if you fall asleep.”

“You shouldn’t have moved.”

Her response was a chuckle and a kiss to her brow. Sleep was beginning to take Daenerys, aided by the complete comfort and affection she was bundled in. She was well and truly asleep when Y/N began stroking her hair again.

The wind whipped harshly above them as a set of powerful wings flew above their heads. Y/N’s hair was tied back, but several strands still escaped from her braid as Rhaegal took flight. She watched him rejoin his brother in the cloudless sky. 

Daenerys was at her side, waiting for her. She didn’t have to ask anything. It had been a long time coming, but Y/N was ready. She’d made her peace with it, and she’d walk forward with no fear or regrets. 

She straightened the leather gauntlet at her hand, meant for keeping her hand protected from the harsh scales of her dragon. It had been a trial for the both of them, but they were stronger for it. Y/N looked toward the sky, spotting the dear creature. She knew it was looking down at her, always aware of where its rider was.

“They can smell the sea air, too,” Y/N said. “It’s gotten them worked up. They’re ready.” 

“So are we.” Daenerys said. It wasn’t overconfidence or blind bravery in her words, only the truth. They’d been ready for the better of a year, and now it was finally time to realize what she’d been waiting a lifetime for. 

“What did you say their names were? The conqueror queens you descend from,” Y/N said, remembering as she spoke. “Visenya and Rhaenys. That was it.”

“We’re greater than conquerors, closer than sisters.” Daenerys took both of Y/N’s hands in her own, facing her with eyes full of power and adoration. An intensity that was unique to a Mother of Dragons, one that Y/N was very familiar with. “We are queens.”

Y/N had heard the word before, but now it held such great power. A new world, a new kingdom across the sea, just waiting for them. They would be kind and just, yielding to no man, constrained by no chains. 

Queens and liberators, not conquers and butchers. Y/N could see it in those violet eyes, the ones that always held the world, yet still had room for love and compassion. The ones that belonged to her, just as she belonged to them.

[wendydarling1400]

JANE EYRE: INFP

Fi:

Jane Eyre, throughout the novel is completely devoted to her principles and beliefs. Although quiet and isolated Jane is not afraid to express her true opinion and judgments. When she observes Mr Rochester alienating Adele she gently teaches him that Adele should be treated with respect; Jane shows that she has strong empathy and will not accept people talking down to children “Adele is not answerable for either her Mother’s faults or yours (...) forsaken by her Mother and disowned by you, I shall cling closer to her than before”; Jane is stubborn and unmoving in her moral judgments in which she pulls from her internal beliefs (this is evident in the fact that these views are deeply against the social norms of the time). As Jane moves from place to place the things she clings to is her sense of self and her determination to be happy with her moral actions, this brings her great comfort in her circumstances  “I can live alone if self-respect and circumstances require me to do so”; Jane leaves Thornfield on the pretence that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she were to stay and be tempted into living a bigamous marriage. Mr Rochester recognises that Jane is innocent and “untainted” leading him to ask Jane continuously if the actions he has taken are morally right to which Jane happily and honestly gives advice “you would in time find it possible to become what you yourself would approve”.Although Jane expresses to the reader that she loves Mr Rochester “while I breathe and think, I must love him” and is completely loyal to him, she will not act immorally for him “I like to serve you in all that is right” again proving that her principles are the most important thing to her and that she constantly evaluates things from an Fi perspective. Jane longs for love and affection which is what makes following her principles even harder as they often cost her the gateway to that in which she is seeking “to the crib I took my doll. Human beings must love something.”  

Ne:

After establishing her principles and gaining all she feels she can from Lowood, Jane decides to move on. Although Jane is in search of a place or someone she belongs to, she easily becomes bored with the mundane and longs for deeper conversations and interactions finding  Miss Fairfax, though kind, does not satisfy Jane in this way. Jane is intrigued and drawn in by Helen Burns and Miss Temples conversions as they discuss the bigger picture, she sees this as meaningful and interesting. Jane attaches herself quickly to Helen who is at first not particularly welcoming to Jane “you ask too many questions, I want to get back to my book” although this interaction could have put Jane off, she enjoys Helen’s insights and wisdom “Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animosity or registering wrongs”; Helen is wise and unlike other people around her, she talks about deeper matters of life in which Jane asks many questions about and seemingly absorbs the answers to (her Ne feeds her Fi); it is clear that many of Helen’s teachings are absorbed by Jane and brought into later life. Jane’s Ne lives for the excitement of deeper conversation and a thirst for diving into multiple hobbies including, painting, writing and playing the piano. It is this saviour function that ironically actually works as a saviour for Jane in her life, as a child she is told that she has ‘bad blood’ due to her emotional responses but her Ne and openness to new information (Helen and her teachings) transforms Jane into a principled and responsible young woman. In Mr Rochester Jane finds another person who enjoys deeper topics of conversation, he is also out of the box and strange, before Mr Rochester returned to Thornfield (before they met) she begins to find as months move pass by that she is becoming restless and again thinks of finding herself a new situation. However it is Mr Rochester and his company who keeps her at Thornfield. Jane also possesses a vivid imagination as she constantly invisions ghostly experiences in Gateshead, down the path whilst posting a letter (Gytrash), and most obviously at Thornfield hall; she expresses that as a child she only enjoyed reading stories about “fairies” and “genii”, and in later life is constantly told by Mr Rochester that she is like numerous different fairytale creatures and that she is“Unearthly.”

Si:

Sentimental and comfort seeking, Jane moves from place to place in search for a home and love. Jane consistently looks back over the past romanticising elements and also feeling upset over others. Though the book has to recollect her past, Jane has very strong feelings and statements to make regarding it. Jane reviews her past deeply and, remembers in great detail how she categorised each person and event she encountered. Jane has a Fi-Si loop which pulls her back in her personal journey; she has at times an unhealthy look on the past as she jumpes from one extreme view on the past to the other (pain and romanticism). After meeting the aristocratic group in which Mr Rochester brings to Thornfield one of the women automatically reminds Jane of Mrs Reed, Jane begins to sink into some of her past experiences of Mrs Reed and then forms somewhat of a disliking for the woman because she looks like her. When Jane returns to Gateshead to see Mrs Reed, memories flood back hitting her hard showing the power that Jane’s Si holds over her hitting her Fi at times very harshly. Obviously, we can all have bad memories but Jane is strongly guided by them and refers back to them many a time throughout her life, sometimes strongly living in the past “Old times crowded fast back on me”; “the inanimate objects were not changed; but the living things had altered past recognition” Jane clearly remembers Gateshead vividly as she travels back there in her mind frequently. It is clear that Jane’s Fi is strongly attached to her Si and is sometimes fed negative thoughts “I did not need directions to the well-known room, to which I had so often been summoned for chastisement in former days”; “the recollection of childhood terrors and sorrows revived”.  Even the physical places in which Jane lives mean a lot to her as she categorises each place as a new stepping stone in her life. 

Te:

Jane has a quiet and gentle nature however at moments during the novel her Te shows in a direct and passionate way; when Mr Rochester first talks about sending Jane off to a new place/situation, Jane quietly digests it trying not to show her grief, but over time Jane feels she cannot hold in her emotions anymore and speaks directly to Mr Rochester in an effort to get her views across which she had previously kept to herself “Do you think because I am poor, obscure, plain and little that I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! - I have as much soul as you - and full as much heart! And if God had gifted me with some beauty and much wealth, I should have made it as hard for you to leave me, as it is now for me to leave you." Mr Rochester is shocked by this side of Jane as it is rarely shown. Jane also speaks to the ‘gypsy lady’ directly as the interview she conducts feels uncomfortable, making Jane feel on edge and as a result she has a sharper tongue than usual “ ‘Why do you not consult my art?’ ‘because I am not silly.’ (...) “‘You are cold and you are silly’ ‘prove it’; Jane is more blunt and short when put on the spot by someone who is trying to read her deep emotions; making her defensive. 

Hufflepuff:

One of Jane’s main traits is loyalty, she is loyal in many ways; Jane is loyal to her principles sticking to them strictly, she is loyal to Helen and her guidance, and she is most obviously loyal to Mr Rochester. Jane has no idea what Mr Rochester’s big secret is and doesn’t try to force it out of him or investigate herself (by perhaps going up to the tower), instead she trusts him and does whatever she can to serve him as a friend; “Can I help you, sir? - I’d give anything to serve you”, Jane earns the trust of Mr Rochester very quickly despite the fact that he is deeply secretive, as he sees that Jane is loyal and honest and would keep his secrets not wishing to harm him “ ‘my little friend!’ Said he, ‘I wish I were on a quiet island with only you” Mr Rochester knows that Jane does not easily judge or cast aside people and that if everyone else around him were to hate him, she would not. Jane is forgiving, even though she feels great sorrow in regard to Mrs Reed she forgives her “a strong yearning to forget and forgive all injuries- to be reconciled and clasp hands with amity” this shows that Jane is caring and not prideful or bitter, she has true Hufflepuff traits (wanting peace and harmony). As Well as this Jane is also hugely modest and uncompetitive in nature “I will do my best; it is a pity that doing one’s best does not always answer”; “If he expects me to talk for the sake of talking and showing off, he will find he has addressed himself to the wrong person”, Jane is disinterested in gossip and being boastful and competitive, when Jane and Mr Rochester plan to get married Jane refuses to have anything big and over the top wanting only the simple things in life, the simple things strongly include love for Jane; “There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow-creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort”. When she learns that her uncle died and left her a huge sum of money, Jane’s initial reaction was sadness as she had never met her uncle, and not excitement towards the money that would mean a different life for her. Jane holds love above everything else. Jane is a Hufflepuff because she values, loyalty, kindness, modesty, fair-play and hard-work.

-WendyDarling1400

[47-shades-of-hitman]

In Your Likeness | Chapter 2 - You seem familiar

Four weeks later

 The white noise of the lights around buzzed in your ears.

Sebastian walked up to you, cup of tea in hand.

“Here.” he said, placing it onto the table, the teaspoon resting in it rattling at the movement.

You sighed, leaning back, putting down the small pieces of equipment you were holding. Instead, you wrapped your arms around the hot mug, relishing in the sweet smell that came from the herbal beverage. You never took your tea with sugar, but opted to not tell him.

“Thank you.” you mused, smiling at him whilst bringing the cup up to blow into it, cooling it down just slightly. “Where would I be without you?”

Sebastian scratched his beard and smiled. “Well, for beginners, you wouldn’t be in sunny Jerusalem if it weren’t for my lead on a Piece of Eden.”

“That’s my lead, too!” sounded from the other side of the room, followed by a crumpled piece of paper being thrown at Seb’s head.

“Oi! Yeah, I get it, Miranda.”

“Sunny Jerusalem, you say?” you countered playfully, bending over your work again. “Then tell me, why are we hidden several floors underground instead of floating on the Dead Sea? I could’ve stayed in Tel Aviv to do more research there.”

Sebastian perched himself on top of the table you were working on, taking a swig of his coffee.

“Oh, come on (Y/n). You love Jerusalem. No-one who knows the city as well as you do. You’re only glad to be back.”

A large grin spread over your face, knowing he was right.

“(Y/n), take a look at this.” Miranda appeared at your side, handing you a yellowed folder.

“What’s this?”

“Information about your new target. Azra El-Sharani. A dangerous woman, mind you. She might seem harmless, but according to our spies, she killed her own husband. Templar ties? No doubt.”

You whistled through your teeth, flipping through the papers Miranda had so carefully compiled.

“I like a challenge from time to time.”

“This is not a game. Especially not here, on this soil. It’s drenched with blood of all kinds. Let’s not add too much to that, please.”

You tipped your chair back so you were leaning on its hind legs, balancing it just right.

“I know, Miranda.” you said. “I know this place like the back of my hand, but I know when to  not  strike. Thing is, if I don’t remind myself to have fun every once in a while, I might slip into madness. It’s not only what  makes  me the best at what I do – it  keeps  me that way, as well.”

Miranda nodded, her blonde curls bouncing at the movement of her head.

“Naturally. On with it.”

“Of course.” you replied. “I will let you know when I leave.”

As she walked off, the heels of her pumps clicking almost obnoxiously against the floor of the bunker, you leaned forward again, returning to your work. The acetone was sharp in its scent and stung in your nose, yet had evaporated in the time you had left it to dry. With practised ease, you re-assembled your bracer, clicking the blade back into place.

“You need to eat before you go.”

“Do I?” you asked your friend. “I believe I just had tea. With sugar, even though I never really take that in my hot drinks. That should give me enough energy for the rest of the day.”

Sebastian hopped off the table and followed you suit when you stood and made your way over to the exit. Grabbing your coat, you threw it over your shoulders. Despite it being your summer garment, it was immediately sticky against your bare skin.

“(Y/n), I am being serious. We can’t have you faint on us.”

“Being peckish keeps me sharp, Seb.” you explained, putting on the bracer. From the chest underneath the mirror hanging on the wall you took another gauntlet, this one equipped with built-in tranquilizer darts, which you could use should the need arise. You wished you had it on you on your previous contract the other day  – that rival hitman, of whom you didn’t know the name. 

He had crossed your mind more than once this month.

You shuddered, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the aversion you felt towards the ICA or the vivid memory of his  impossibly blue eyes.

“Are you sure you’ve read the file well enough? We could go through it together while enjoying some sandwiches? I could get you some falafel, too? Or something sweet… Babka?” Sebastian tried.

You sighed, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Time is of the essence and there is no way that I can wait any longer. Jerusalem is waiting to be rid of her Templars. My absence has made the lower ranks lazy.”

Sebastian let his shoulders hang, knowing that there was no use in pressuring you any further.

“Alright.” he said, “Enjoy your surroundings. Many people would be jealous of you, regarding your whereabouts, I mean.”

You laughed a little at the IT-manager. “Oh, Sebastian. No one should be jealous of me in any regard. Anyway, isn’t your break over already?”

Sebastian checked his watch, hiding the expression of shock on his face. “Shit, I’m five minutes late. Never mind, I’m the manager after all. Good luck on your endeavours, now.”

You nodded and folded your hands on your back, watching him trot away, a certain spring in his step he always had whenever he was late.

Before you left the premises of your quarters, you dropped by Miranda, just as she had asked of you. However, when you turned the corner, you ran straight into her, almost colliding against her shocked face.

“Oh, (Y/n)! You startled me!” she breathed. “I was just about to get you, really. I just got a call from the Council’s office. They want you upstairs.”

“Why? What is going on, have they told you? I was about to leave for that file, actually, I—”

“I’m not sure, but the Eldest of Council told me that you needed to meet with him right away.”

“Mr Howard?” you countered, feeling your stomach tighten. He was the highest ranking member of the Council, making you immediately nervous.

“Yes.” Miranda sighed, seemingly just as scared. If Mr Howard called for you, it couldn’t be good.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

You rushed away, pushing through the doors after straightening the lapels of your coat in the mirror. Walking up a few flights of stairs to where the Israeli Council had their headquarters underneath Jerusalem, your mind started to run.

Was it something you had said, or did you take breaks that were too long? No, if that had been the case, you wouldn’t be called into office. After all, you were the best Assassin they had and the most hard-working one at that. If you took a break that was ten minutes longer than planned, it—

You halted mid-step, standing still for a moment as realisation hit you. The agent from the ICA you had run into a few weeks back… Mentally cursing, you rubbed your forehead in frustration, resuming your walk to the main office, though with a heart that was even heavier. They must’ve found out that there were rivals on their turf. Took them a long while, too. Perhaps you should’ve reported it, but you hadn’t regarded it as a threat.

Oh, you were going to get the lecture of the century. On why you should’ve killed that hitman instead of letting him walk out, or at least how you should’ve neutralised him. About how he had probably now killed someone prominent within the Creed and that it could’ve been prevented if you had ended him. Perhaps you’d be banished for negligence or charged with the guilt of a fallen brother- or sister-Assassin.

Your knuckles rapped on the metal door in front of you and you took a deep breath. A Master Assassin felt no fear when it came to scaling buildings, killing people in high places, taking  Leaps of Faith. .. And yet, you were about to shit yourself because you had to speak with your superiors.

“Enter.” sounded the way-too-familiar voice of Thomas Howard, Eldest of Council and thus, the highest power when it came to the Brotherhood of Assassins. And so you went, closing the door behind you after slipping through the tiny gap you had created by pushing it open.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you were surprised at how confident your voice sounded.

“Yes, Miss (L/n). You may approach.”

The walls were covered in photographs of places, people and objects, red thread lined through here and there, revealing the on-going development of plans. You halted at the front of Mr Howard’s oaken desk, folding your hands on your back.

The middle-aged man looked at you thoughtfully.

“Miss (L/n)… You’ve been our best Master Assassin ever since your brother died. Is that correct?”

“Affirmative, sir.” you replied, swallowing away the lump in your throat at the mention of your deceased brother. “For five years now, sir.”

“Time and time again, you’ve proven loyalty to the Creed. I would trust you with the Brotherhood’s most secret investigations concerning Pieces of Eden and the extermination of Templar forces.”

You bowed your head humbly. “Thank you, sir. I’m honoured to hear that, sir.”

“Now.” he said, standing up, his robes swaying at the movement. “I need you to follow me.”

Why the secrecy, you wanted to ask, but opted to bite your tongue instead. It would be too rude a question, especially to the Eldest.

And so you went after him in silence, the only sound the beat of your footsteps.

“I will explain in further detail later, but we’ve picked up on a lead that runs deeper in importance than just exterminating the Templar Order. No, what we found will shake the world. You’re my most capable Assassin, so I need you on board.”

You nodded. “Sir, I’ve sworn fifteen years ago that I would do my all for the Brotherhood, that I would give my life and my dignity if it meant to serve it,” you paused before adding “...Sir.”

Mr Howard hummed in response. “I don’t think you’re going to like this, though.”

“Sir?” you asked, but he didn’t reply anymore.

“How about my other mission, sir?”

“I’ve placed Bethany on it. She’ll handle it just fine.”

“But Bethany is just a novice, sir. She won’t be able to—”

“I need you here.” Mr Howard said, displeased with your prying, and the tone of his scolding voice made you immediately cast your eyes downward.

“I apologise for my nosiness, sir.”

“Alright.” he said, and swiped a key-card to open a large, thick door.

The room was near empty, an ominous hue omitted by fluorescent light, a large table littered with files and documents in the middle. A few members from the High Council stood around, but an unfamiliar woman had her eyes on you. You locked her gaze to yours and raised an eyebrow.

Who was she?

“Here at last, Thomas.” an older lady you knew well stated, clearly unhappy with his late arrival. Siobhan Vermont glared at the two of you with narrowed eyes.

“I apologise, Mrs Vermont. The most important thing is that we’re here now, and I guess there are a lot of questions.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but someone cut you off before you could even start.

“You withheld information from us, (Y/n). You forgot to mention a rival assassin roaming the streets of Jerusalem. Someone of your ability should notice a thing like that right away.”

Casting your gaze downward, quite ashamed. “I apologise, sir. I should’ve reported it, but I threatened—”

“We already knew of their presence.” Mr Howard said. “There is no harm done, yet keep it in mind next time something like that happens.”

Your head whipped up to him and you frowned in confusion.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

Mr Howard walked to the strange woman and whispered something to her. She nodded and went to the adjacent room silently.

“This is a mission we hoped we never had to plan, but the situation forced us into cooperation with people who have ties to the ICA. Something big is going to happen, something that will make the entire world shudder, something that will make the eradication of our own, current enemies seem insignificant.”

Mr. Howard ushered you to the middle of the room, to the table, and on the other side of it, someone was being led forward as well.

When you halted and looked up, resting your hands on the files underneath you. In front of you, mimicking your position, he stood. 

Icy blue eyes met yours, something in his gaze stirring.

“We meet again.” he dryly stated.

You sighed, feeling puzzled, then, your gaze hardening.

“So it would seem.”

[grlbandit]

Writing when you have a day job

It’s hard to make money as a writer. For most of us, it takes a while to hone our skills. It took me five years to get my work to a place where I would even show people, and I am still constantly learning and growing (check out Ira Glass’s The Gap if you need some encouragement there).

But bills don’t go away just because you are following your passion. If anything, expenses usually go up as you’re paying for classes, writing competitions, software, etc.

Day jobs are necessary to survive. They can be supportive and fun if you find something flexible that allows you to still create on the side.

However, they can also be absolutely exhausting.

I was a personal assistant for two and a half years. After long days of running errands and trying to remember a list too long for two people, I would come home completely drained. I worked for a very nice couple (and am extremely lucky in that regard), but it didn’t always leave much mental space for creativity.

That being said, I still had to find a way to write. Here are a few tips for how I got through it:

1. Work on one thing at a time. I feel the need to do a million things at once, too. But you’re not doing yourself every favors. Pick one project to focus on. It’s great if you have lots of ideas, but write them down somewhere and shelve them for later. It is always easier to start projects than finish them.

*Sometimes your focus can change. If you know at a deep level that there is a different project that needs your attention, then pause and focus on that first. If you feel the need to switch again, then maybe it is time to investigate why and where you start to get hung up.

2. Utilize the “dead space” with things that inspire you. Listen to a podcast about writing as you drive to work. Listen to a YA book on Audible as you cook dinner or clean your house. Read an article while you wait for an email. Watch a short film while you wait in line for your to-go order. Or simply pay more attention to the people that come into your work and write down some notes for character inspiration.

You don’t always need to fill every moment with something, but in my own journey, I realized that I would use driving as a time to check out and disengage. When I started filling that time with content and actively listening, I noticed I felt more inspired when I sat down to write. Plus, I had new wealth of knowledge to draw from.

3. Write things down when they come up! As you fill your time with more things that inspire you, you’ll probably find yourself having more ideas. Great! With a day job you might not always be in a place to dive deeper, so write down the thought and save it for later. I once heard a writer say she emails herself every time she gets an idea and puts them into a folder. For me, I keep notes in my phone. I probably have around 400 that list out everything from soft outlines for novels to descriptive words to themes that feel important to me.

4. Using one or two hours effectively is more important than a whole day of forced productivity. You only have the time you have to work on your projects. As someone who has spent both two hours extremely productive and entire days writing nothing but a few sentences, I promise you that it is not always about total time spent. I would always prefer an effective amount of time over a lot of time. Use what you have to the best of your ability. Sit down and see what you can accomplish in even just twenty minutes with no distractions.

5. Write with someone else if that helps you stay accountable. Scheduled writing sessions with another person are a great way to commit to your work. Whether you’re actually writing on the same project together, or just working side by side, it is more difficult to bail when you’re meeting someone else. Plus, you get some social time, too!

6. Find a writer’s group. I am part of two all-women writing groups that I absolutely adore. Prior to COVID, one of the groups met monthly to share work. Getting feedback in realtime, as well as hearing what other people are working on, always leaves me feeling inspired. Now, we still meet on Zoom occasionally to check-in. The other group is more panel and event focused, while just as valuable. Surrounding yourself with what you care about, and with people who care about the same things, is a great way to stay on track.

7. Take breaks. We can’t be on all the time (as much as I try to tell myself I should be). Self-care and actually living your life is equally important. I often find that productivity flows so much better after I take a bit of time off. Suddenly, “the grind” feels like less of a grind and I find myself actually wanting to write.

8. But do make time. Start distinguishing what is important and what you can skip out on. You don’t have to go to every social engagement. You don’t have to say yes to helping your friend move. Sometimes, it is okay to say no and carve out a whole day for your writing. I think your true friends will always understand and support you as you strive to make a career doing what you love.

[fuwafuwamedb]

Salvaged from Wreckage (Cu Chulainn, Rin Tohsaka)

She’d thought she would die.

The moment that Shinji had approached, his intent sinking into the very depths of her bones, she’d been sure she wouldn’t survive the night. She’d been sure that she was going to die, that there would be no salvation. She’d felt Shinji’s hands touch her legs, feeling her thighs above knee highs and below her skirt’s protections. She could see the gleam in his eyes, his face moving closer.

Then there had been a flash of a fist.

The boy was flying against one of the walls. A flash of red was coming, landing near her legs. The rope clinging to her legs felt loose, but she couldn’t breathe. The flash of a smile came her way, grim and pleased at the same time. The eyes, red as the blade in his hands, gleamed as the man stood over her. Her mind wasn’t connecting.

She couldn’t comprehend what was happening around her, not entirely. She could see Kirei coming into the room. She could see his lips moving, but Lancer was swinging his hair as he moved to stand before her. She could feel the warmth radiating off him, like a furnace to the cold she’d felt seep so deeply into her.

A blade slammed home into him.

Air was gone.

Hope burst into a thousand shards that jabbed at her heart.

She could see the blade dripping blood onto the floor as Shinji moved to get closer. She could see the amusement dancing in Kirei’s eyes as he moved to get closer.

Then movement.

God, but Lancer was such a damned hard man to kill. He never faltered. Never failed.

The moment they counted him out, just as she had before, he was back. He was up and he was in their face. The blade was singing in the air as it moved. The heat coming off him was coming in waves, filling the room with an energy that left her grinning. There was nothing else she could do but grin at the sight.

He slammed the priest against the wall, his blade stabbing him right back.

“If I died that easily, I wouldn’t be much of a heroic spirit.”

No, he wouldn’t have.

That was a servant.

Loyal. Dependable. Enduring.

She watched Shinji approach. She watched him get prodded and flee. The laugh that came out of her was only paused when she found the man approaching her.

Her eyes met his, the pounding in her chest picking up the pace.

“It looks like you’re in a bad spot.”

“Lancer.”

She went to thank him, but her eyes landed on the wound he sported once more. The elation dropped.

Mana was coming off. There was a fleeting feeling to him, even as he cut her binds and freed her hands. He moved to sit nearby, landing hard against the floor before he spun his lance to rest against his shoulder.

“Get out while you can,” he warned her. “I’m gonna burn that priest and myself out of this world. A gal like you needs to be gettin’ back to the war. I have a feeling you’ll win.”

“…Lancer.”

“Get movin’,” he warned her again.

She couldn’t.

The man was bleeding out. The fires were beginning to build, spreading forth around them and heading towards the direction of the priest’s stabbed body. She could see the mana breaking apart, the servant before her vanishing.

“It’s a shame,” he tells her. “I could have gotten a confident master like you.”

He could have.

She could have also gotten a good servant-

Rin paused.

She had no one. When she left this room, she would have to make Emiya come back to heel at her feet or find another servant. She would have to have a servant to help her win…

Her eyes fell to the man with his eyes closed, his head was leaned back against the pallet of wood behind him.

Each step brings her closer to the flames and the slowly vanishing body of the servant before her. She can feel the floor meet her knees. Her hands are reaching out as the man murmurs.

“Summon me again when you’re a little older.”

Rin shakes her head, moving in closer and holding his face a little more. Her head tilting, eyes closing as she closes the space between them. The fire is kissing at her skin, warming her as she feels her mana flowing forth to the man. She pushes more into him, feeling him moving to hold her back. A shiver is running through her. A current is running through her veins.

The stone floor meets her back, the sound of the man’s weapon skittering to the floor can be heard before she feels his hands running down her person.

“You’re supposed to leave.”

“I-I can’t.”

Her eyes open, looking up at the red eyes glinting as he looks down at her.

She can’t leave here without a servant. She won’t last a moment out there. She is surrounded by those who would betray her. No one had come to rescue her, only him.

“I told your little friend that I wouldn’t take you from him,” Lancer reminds her.

“I don’t even know what that means, but you need a master. I need a servant.” Rin holds onto his shoulders, feeling a shiver run down her spine as she stares up at him.

“It ain’t safe here.”

“Then as my servant, you should get me out of here.”

His mouth came down hungrily, setting her body ablaze in more of this feeling. Those arms of his are pulling her up from the fire’s path, bringing her close.

The words of the summoning are on her lips, welcomed a moment later by his own response.

His lips press to her neck as she feels the room moving. Or rather, the man is carrying her towards the door, bringing out into the world.

The sound of fighting can be heard.

She’s not sure what’s going on, but she’s outside before she can look into what’s going on. Her head feels woozy. Her body feels weak.

“We’re leaving,” he murmurs. “We’re going home, master.”

The sound of the title for her seems to hang in the air, charged with the sound of excitement. She can feel his hand delved deep into her hair and holding onto her back carefully. Her legs are wrapped around his waist.

Rin moves her hands carefully to hold his shoulders, looking back as the building behind them fades away.

They’re still in a war.

Nothing has changed in that regard.

However…

The air whips passed as Lancer takes a leap to one of the fences nearby. She can feel him holding her waist as they continue off through the night. She can feel the wind whipping passed her face, making her shiver and hold onto the man tighter.

His warmth envelopes her so nicely.

His lips pressing to her temple a few minutes before she finds herself in front of her house.

“Let’s get you inside.”

“You knew where I lived.”

How had he known?

“My former master wanted to have me keep an eye on you. I stayed off the premises and kept watch. I was only within view of the place, never inside.”

He sounds far too animated about things though.

She can feel him behind her still as she opens the door. A hand carefully leads her in before she finds the door closed and bolted.

They’re home.

They’re home, but it’s different.

She can’t figure out what to do now. He’s here. She’s here. She’s contracted to him. He’s checking the windows and moving around the house.

But she doesn’t know what to do.

Archer would move to make her tea, complaining to ease things from the battle. Lancer checks the house before coming back to find her still in the doorway. The man’s armor dissipates, leaving him in a casual looking white shirt and dark pants.

He’s… different.

The thought had never struck her as much as it did now. Archer and Emiya had both been similar. She had control and she could feel that she could take them, if need be. They could throw a comment or two back, but she never felt like she was really testing her limits or around something foreign with them. There was nothing new about their presence.

Lancer, on the other hand, was tall and muscled. His blue hair was long and he brushed it back lightly before moving over to her side.

“Come on. You’re still in shock from things. We should have you rest up for a while.”

“I-I’m fine.”

The man’s face came too close.

“I-I am!”

“You’re not fine,” Lancer murmurs. “You’re gawking at me. We’ll get you a blanket and something warm for the gullet before settling in. The priest is dead and that former servant of yours is probably gone as well. We’ll investigate later.”

“You think he’s gone?”

“Probably. A guy can’t last without a master for long.” The man shrugs again, “we’ll investigate in the morning, but tonight is celebratory.”

“Oh?”

There was no missing the fangs in his grin, the light that came to those red eyes as he glanced down at her and practically glowed.

Rin found herself under a heated gaze, her thoughts washing away into obscurity.

“Of course, Rin. I got one hell of a master tonight and it didn’t involve dragging my legs over coals and fire to get. I’m damned lucky for once.”

“Y-yes, well,” Rin moved to brush some of her hair back, only to find it tangled.

“I’ll take you upstairs and brush it out,” the man murmured.

“That’s n-not necessary, Lancer-“

“Cu Chulainn.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s my name, Rin. The hero of Ulster and wild lancer, Cu Chulainn,” Cu gave a low, sweeping bow, that gaze returning as he lifted his head to meet her gaze with his own. “You can feel free to drop the lancer talk and simply use my name.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

A servant’s name said everything. Their strengths, weaknesses, ires; it said exactly how to get under their skin and control them. Like great Achilles and his bad heels, the man’s name could give her insight into exactly how to defeat him.

Cu Chulainn had essentially handed him his leash.

“Nah,” the man replies easily enough, “you’ve got me tamer than a lamb. All yours, in fact.”

The man moved closer, bringing her deeper into the safety of her home. He was bringing her further and further away from the door. It feels like an ocean between her and that front door now. Civilization and another living soul are so far. She’d won tonight, in her own manner. She had her own rewards for being smart.

And somehow, despite that, it felt like she was going to lose something entirely different.

“We’ll make you somethin’ warm to drink, master. Maybe somethin’ sweet.”

The lips that pressed to her cheek had her shivering, nearly dropping as her legs went weak. The kitchen stools were a saving grace as she found the man moving to the stove and pulling the kettle to the sink.

“I’ll keep ya warm,” that teasing voice promised. That smile flashing her way. “You just take a seat and enjoy a better servant’s company.”