#and then deal with the hours-long exchange between you and me and our client and our teams

[pills-dolls-and-kittycats]

Part 2 - Samuel

Samuel was the perfect cross between Martha and Darrien. A grandiose narcissist who - at the height of our acquaintanceship - had delusions of occupying some high power position on Bay Street. When asked what he does for a living he would reply “I'm Bay Street,” with no job title or description attached. In fact, Sam was a failed musician who made his meager living by selling cocaine. He often proclaimed that, “one does not have to sell drugs, drugs sell themselves.” But he was so bad at handling the smallest amount of responsibility, like responding to messages or making deliveries within a reasonable time frame, that he often was unable to pay the rent on his low-income housing apartment. Most days Sam would dawn his grey or blue power suit, neck tie and all, grab his ratty old brief-case and drive down to Bay Street to sit in a Cafe for hours in order to sell cocaine to washed up Bay Street finance rejects, who sat around all day moaning about how woke culture has foiled their hard earned positions in the social and financial hierarchies. 

Sam was in his 50s, very tall but badly out of shape, painfully pale and wrinkled beyond his years with a gaping bald spot surrounded by a mess of silver curls. He vaguely resembled Richard Hell though he insisted he actually looked like James Deen and constantly bragged about how well preserved he was for his age. “The trick is to use toner on your face every day” - though moisturizer has never occurred to him. Sam’s true nature did not become apparent to me for years after we first met. He initially came off as so meek, sad and pathetic, so eager to please and to be liked, it took years to uncover the sadistic predator that lurked beneath.

I first met Sam when I was working at a gentleman’s spa on the weekends while paying my way through graduate school. Our paths kept crossing through odd strokes of coincidence and serendipity - things we read into far too much years later. When Sam first walked into the spa, I recall thinking that he looked interesting, certainly not an average client. He was scruffy, like an old rocker still living out his glory days of decades past. I was amused that he thought anyone can pull off a long leather trench coat with wide shoulder pads. I smiled intrigued, which I suppose resulted in him picking me for a session. He didn't want a massage, opting instead to massage me. He kept insisting that I found him very attractive. He attempted to pleasure me with his fingers. He seemed really high and could not keep an erection. When time was nearly up I faked an orgasm to give the session some finality and he suggested we exchange contacts, which at that point I've never done with a client. He finally brought up the fact that he's a drug dealer. While I wasn't interested in anything he was dealing, I did ask, “can you get acid by any chance?”

“I don't usually carry it, but give me your number and I'll call you if I get some in.” 

I declined.

A few weeks later he came in and saw me again. The session was the same, he massaged me, his dick never stayed hard, I faked an orgasm.

“I know you find me very attractive.” He persisted. “If you give me your number, I'll get you some weed for free”. When clients became persistent in any way they stood out as a red flag, but Sam seemed slow and shy. He would bat his eyes mischievously while asking - like he knew he was doing something wrong but just couldn't help himself. 

“Atleast check out my band, Crack Baby and the Love Triangle. It's psychedelic electro jazz, we just released a new album on BandCamp - my email is on the website if you ever wanna message me”.

“We’ll see”.

“Look, I told you exactly who I am. You know my identity. My sister is Sheela Bloomberg, you can look her up, she's a well known documentarian. I'm the vulnerable party here.” 

I laughed.

A year or so went by. I quit working at the spa when I landed a gallery attendant job, dyed my hair platinum blonde and was sporting something of a Nancy Spurgeon look but in an art world chic kinda way.

One night in spring we were opening our biggest show of the year, the house was packed and many of my friends were there to show support. I spotted Samual in the crowd checking out a collage that, coincidentally, was comprised of the back page ads from Now Magazine - I even recognized about three of my former co-workers in it. I went up to him to see if he ever did end up getting any acid, but it was clear he didn't even remotely recognize me. I took adnavege of the opportunity to try and fuck with his head a little. He told me he wasn't in the market for art and was only there to support a friend. “Yeah I figured as much. You don't look like a buyer. More like…maybe a musician? Like someone who probably paddles drugs to support a dwindling music career?” 

Sam didn't bat an eye or shift his tone. “No, I'm actually just taking a break from the music thing.” I couldn't tell if he's high or just kind of slow. He seemed so clueless and socially awkward, it was difficult to tell. The night was busy and I had many people to talk to, but come closing time Sam was still there, hanging on my friend Zilka who almost never went home at the end of a night without a man. The two ended up leaving together. 

The next day I was deathly curious about Zilka’s night. At that time she didn't know about my stint at the spa the previous year, so I never told her I knew her latest piece of entertainment. 

“He was so weird!” She recounted. “We hooked up and it was okay or whatever but the next day he insisted on driving me home and he wouldn't leave the whole time I was getting ready for work.” Zilka continued sounding perplexed, “he just sat on my couch and said ‘uh-huh’ to anything I said. I felt bad because I think he was kinda autistic, but I just couldn't get him to leave until I went to work.”

“Are you going to see him again?” 

“He seemed really interested but nah, I don't think I wanna call him back”. 

That was the last I've seen or heard from Samuel until about three years later when I went back to school for a philosophy program, and subsequently returned to the spa for some extra cash.

 

When a client came in without an appointment, he would be seated in the front of the house and each available girl would go out to greet him so he could make his choice. When it came my turn, I went out to see Samuel, significantly older and chubbier. I must have given off a look of amusement or surprise because he immediately picked me. Inside the room, as I began to massage him, it became clear he had no idea who I was. I asked questions about music or the drug trade, to which he responded straightforwardly and unintrigued, as though I was asking questions far more general, like “do you suppose it'll rain today?” or “do you think the Leafs will make the playoffs?” I decided to up the anti a little. 

“So how do you find living in the Eglinton Village neighbourhood? Is it as stuffy as it looks?” That's when he paused, turned his head and asked, “do we know each other or something?” 

“Yes, you've stayed with me several times before, like years ago. My name used to be Ivy.” 

“And I gave you my address?” 

“No, but you took my friend Zilka home one night and she texted me her location for safety”.

“Uh-huh”. 

The wheels in his head seemed to be spinning rapidly for a few seconds then he replied, “No I don't live in that house anymore, I moved to little Portugal.” 

“Weird, that's where I live. What street you on?” 

To my utter surprise he named my street. I laughed, “how come I've never seen you there before?” 

“I dunno, I just moved there recently.’  

He spent the rest of the session massaging me and I ended it by giving him a fairly convincing impersonation of an orgasm. A couple of weeks later he came back to the spa to see me. He told me he mostly dealt in cocaine since the illicit weed trade died up after legalization. By a stroke of coincidence my latest academic endeavour has led me to a renewed appreciation of stimulants, and so I took down his phone number. 

During a particularly stressful exam period in which I decided to not sleep at all, I messaged Sam to learn he lived in the building right next door to mine. He came by to deliver the goods and when I opened the door the first thing that jumped out at me was that the entire front of his grey hair was dyed purple!! Picture a middle aged, haggard man with a Bill Nye haircut, sporting purple bangs! I tried quickly to hide my amusement and paid him a half-assed compliment, “that's an interesting look.” 

“Yes, well I have this millennial girlfriend now, she did this for me”. 

I collected my drugs, he enquired if I'd be willing to give him a session in exchange for the drugs, I told him I had too much studying to do and we parted ways. 

When finals rolled around I messaged Sam again for another touch of pep. Sam came over without his usual energy or his shyly awkward yet flirtatious spark. He seemed annoyed. “It's my 50th Birthday today and my millennial girlfriend left me.” 

“I'm so sorry. But happy birthday no less!” 

“Can we have a session? I'll give you extra drugs”. 

“I really wish I could, but I really need to study, it's serious crunch time.”

“What if I pay you?” 

“Can we take a raincheck? Next week I'm off from class.” 

Sam didn't respond, he just got up and left. I thought it was quite rude but also figured, if I was dumped on my birthday and couldn't find anyone to spend it with, I'd be acting like a shitty little bitch too. I went back to my books. 

I soon switched to Adderall to support my study habit, and haven't contacted Sam again for some time, although I did run into him on our street a few times. He was back to being friendly, awkward and mischievous, making silly yet obscene facial expressions or gesturing to me provocatively. Then the Pandemic hit. 

   

It was summer when the restrictions began to loosen up a little. One day I got a message from Sam asking if I wanted to come over for a session. I knew it was a bad idea but I admittedly missed doing drugs, and furthermore, I could no longer afford to do them. And even though I have worked in the sex industry on and off for years now, the thought of exchanging sexual favors for drugs was filthy thrilling, and fully turned me on - perhaps also because I deeply missed having an orgasm I didn’t give myself. 

Sam’s apartment was dirty and out of sorts with music equipment and drug paraphernalia scattered everywhere. His walls were painted burnt orange and okra and he had these random Persian style rugs covering most of his floor. It was a fairly typical musician bachelor apartment and it didn't particularly gross me out. He told me that he and his millennial girlfriend got back together. “I don’t think it’ll last much longer,” he complained. “She’s extremely jealous and controlling but I know he cheats on me. Also, she refuses to finger my ass”. The fact that he had a girlfriend was of little consequence to me, as I still considered him a client, and myself his client. In fact we've been each other's clients for some time now so cutting out the middle currency seemed prudent. The rules of the spa applied, no sex or blowjobs, but I did let him go down on me. He was fairly skilled, I came maybe 2 or 3 times. When it was his turn, he managed to maintain an erection from getting fingered and eventually, with some wrist-numbing effort, he did cum. 

He told me that paying for sexual favors is his kink that no one in his life knows about. I wondered if that was not just a way for him to deflect from the fact that his charm and good looks are not always sufficient for his sex life. But then he added, “I have a special relationship to sex work and a lot of respect for sex workers you know. It's because I'm being possessed by the spirit of a dead hooker. Her name is Melody. She was a friend of mine.”

Given that Sam was artsy and eccentric, I wasn’t sure how literally he believed this at first.

I saw Sam sporadically a small handful of times over that summer. He told me the story about Melody literally every time I saw him, each time adding new details about his communications with her. When the school year began again, I switched mainly to Adderall and Vyvanse and hardly saw him again, probably until the following summer. 

Just after receiving my second vaccine, I recall taking some mushrooms in order to endure having my nails done. On my way home I received a message from Sam inviting me over, I missed cocaine, and with my newly acquired, post-vaccine confidence I showed up at his place. We had fun. We drank brandy and did lines while exchanging orgasms for a few hours, after which I went home with a couple of grams of coke. I was very pleased with myself. The life of a druggie-ho was a lot more fun than portrayed on TV. 

We maintained our arrangement into the school year, which was further facilitated by his final breakup with his millennial girlfriend. He told me that eventually she became so abusive to him that it would turn physical to a point that his neighbors had to intervene. Eventually the police got involved and now he had a no contact order against her. I felt a tinge of pity for this strange little man, who absolutely seemed like he would tolerate physical violence for attention or affection or a shot at being liked or accepted. For most of the school year I rarely had time to spend with him and often paid him in cash, but I was beginning to view him as a friend. Then sometimes during winter break he invited me over for our usual. I didn't require drugs to study at this time but I could use the entertainment. Sam was entirely nocturnal like me while most of my friends were not. He made surprisingly good martinis, which we drank while watching The Hunger - one of our mutually favourite films. We were having fun gossiping and laughing. He also talked about the long-term trauma he incurred from millennial girlfriend, whose name I finally learned was Meena. Apparently she attempted to stab him once, grazing his shoulder with a kitchen knife. “Erik from across the hall kept rushing in to break up the fights because she'd get so loud. Sometimes he had to pull her off me. I dunno why I took it for so long, it's like I just couldn't leave.” I assured him that it's a pretty common response to abuse and the important thing is that he is now healing. He offered me a bump of 2C-B to try. I immediately hated it, it made me dizzy, slow and disoriented. It was also nearly morning time so I opted to go home. He kept offering me cocaine to take home with his desperate “please like me” eyes, I declined. “You don't have to pay me to hang out anymore. We’re friends. I had a lot of fun”. 

“Okay, don't be shy, come by any time. We don't even have to do anything, just watch a movie or something”. We hugged goodbye.

The next day I woke up with one of the worst hangovers of my life. I attributed it to trying the new drug. The dizziness and weakness kept getting stronger and stronger all day until I finally realized that it was, in fact, Covid. 

I was laid up and isolating for the next 2 weeks - hauled up in my living room. My live-in boyfriend at the time refused to go near me though he made exceptions when he insisted on coming into the living room to blast television first thing in the morning while I was trying to sleep. The fact that our relationship had all but ended during the lockdowns was clear to everyone but him, but I was still too stressed to completely pull the plug, especially since I was in school and struggling to pay my bills. All the while Sam would stop by with his special soups, leaving them outside my door several times per week. I began to feel a genuine friendship between us. When I recovered, I would sometimes go to his place to get high, drink martinis and have him eat me out over vintage art house cinema. Sam claimed he was a film history major in his youth. I felt comfortable confiding in him about my sexless relationship with a brooding man who was growing increasingly depressed and angry each day.

One day I wanted to buy some cocaine, but I didn't hear back from Sam for about an hour, by which time I was halfway to the nail salon downtown. He apologized for the delay. “No worries, I'll be back home later this evening, I'll just stop by then.”

“I'm free right now, why don't I drive down to the salon, we'll grab a coffee.”

My nail appointment ran much longer than expected, and Sam waited across the street the entire time until I was done. I was becoming convinced he was developing feelings for me, but pretty soon the semester went into full swing, I stocked up on Adderall and haven't seen Sam for about a month.

At the end of February I got a text, “my 26 year old girlfriend just died while I was in BC. Can you come over?” I had no idea Sam had a new girlfriend, though I was in no position to judge. I expressed my condolences, told him I could not free myself up just that minute but I'd be sure to stop by on the weekend. 

The Quarentine Dream

The Quarantine Dream was a cocktail I created at the start of the lockdowns, and it became a fast faavourite amongst my friends.

Mix 1.5 oz gin

0.5 oz fresh lime juice

About a tbs blackcurrant syrup

Top off with sparkling water and serve over ice.

[plugrick]

Kenneth stared across the table rather blankly for a long moment, his face unreadable as his compound eyes moved between the demanding human and his former brother in arms. Not only was the flesh ape pushing the envelope, but now Mike was supporting his frankly brazen behavior as well.

Did they not realize that a less forgiving Grand Leader would simply extract the information pertaining to the drug?

Rick sat there as smug as could be, grinning from ear to ear. Mike backing him up in negotiations always made his confidence soar to new heights. It had been a while since the last time they’d made a deal together, and it felt good to be back in the saddle. Well before their prison stint slash breakup fiasco, this had been the norm. Rick declaring his wants and the assassin thoroughly intimidating his clients into bending to his will.

Some things never changed. Namely, Rick’s insistence to try and wring as much as he possibly could get out of any unfortunate sucker who happened to find themselves in his path.

“W-well, Ken?” Rick practically singsonged, truly in his element. “What’ll it be, buddy?”

Pressuring him. The human had the nerve to pressure him into making a decision. Ken gave a sigh that most certainly contained irritation, reaching up to rub at his brow as if this exchange was giving him a headache.

“And what, pray tell, exactly are you expecting in return?”

“Cold. Hard. Cash. I-IIII want money.” Rick emphasized his words by tapping his pointer finger on the wood before him with each syllable.

Money was hardly an object to the Federation. They were by far one of the richest organizations in existence thanks to their thousand year conquest, each planet under their thumb squeezed for every last ounce of valuable resources it contained. It was more about the nuances of giving the human anything, and how that reflected upon him, that was the issue.

“…. Granted.” He agreed. “You will be paid adequately. Now, we must—“

“I’m not done!” Rick cheerily informed, clearly loving the taste of power. “I-I want my stay here to be perfectly comfortable. I want liquor, I want smokes, I want a-aaa nice room that doesn’t look l-like shit, and I want my own private laboratory th-that nobody else gets to fuck with.”

Ken deepened his frown as Rick counted off his demands on one hand, really starting to display on his features just how much this was teeing him off. Much to the joy of Sanchez.

“Kenneth.” Quz firmly warned, displeased with the human undermining his protege.

“Oh, sh-shut up. Th-the big dogs are talking.” Rick mocked the former commander, rolling his eyes. “W-which reminds me! I also want—“

“Enough.”

The Grand Leader cut in sharply, his tone leaving no room for question. He was astoundingly patient, but would not stand for such a display of blatant disregard to his position of power. Everyone in the room should have learned that after what he had done just a few minutes ago.

Rick shrunk in on himself, finally - graciously - backing off. “Jeez. T-touchy guy…”

“Create the cure for me. Everything else is trivial, and will be dealt with later.” As in, not right now. It was ridiculous, to take up precious time in the sanctity of the war room when there were far bigger things at stake. “We must move on. There are far more pressing matters.”

What could be more important than getting his way? Rick huffed and sat back in his seat, visibly pouting. For all his genius, he could be incredibly childish at times, and this was one of them.

The Grand Leader briefly shut his eyes and collected himself, his demeanor returning to stark seriousness. He rose from his seat calmly, clasping his graspers behind his back as he addressed the table.

“Gentlemen. Our darkest hour may be upon us.”

It seemed as if he had saved the best for last. It certainly piqued Rick’s interest. A murmur went around the room, curiosity and concern getting the better of the esteemed who were gathered.

“As you are aware, we are currently shielded from direct attack. However, some of our sibling Outposts have not been so lucky.”

A display screen behind him lit up in imagery of intense destruction. Outpost 13, a herald of its kind, was now seen as a shadow of its former glory. It’s lights were dark in the midst of space, illuminated only by the rings of a neighboring planet that shared some of its light. Large holes were ripped in the massive hull, spilling debris in a way that was reminiscent of some great disemboweled beast.

It switched again. This time it was Outpost 11. Then 4. Then 16. Then 12. Then—

Generals and Commanders alike were shocked at the revelation being shown to them, their voices rising in notes of disbelief and woe. Entire Outposts, shining examples of their great warrior civilization, each destroyed in new and horrific visages; impossibilities come to fruition.

“That is to say nothing of our bases. The planets under our control. Our sites of importance.”

Burning buildings. Statues reduced to rubble. Corpses strewn across landscapes, painting sickly shades of aged blood where there had once stood proud cities, encampments - the inhabitants now removed from the living. Crashed ships littered the lands like common litter, crushed like tin cans.

“Make no mistake. The Federation is being targeted specifically.”

Yes, Lizardperson was destructive. But it had been only mere days since he was inadvertently freed, and the locations being shown were quite distant from one another. Which raised the question: how had this happened in such a narrow time frame? Was he really that much more powerful after feeding on an entire prison ship full of high powered emotion?

Rick suddenly didn’t feel like copping an attitude anymore. His eyes were as wide as saucers, and his face had drained of color.

Kenneth regarded his men with honesty, integrity, and graveness that communicated the gravity of the situation quite effectively.

“Soon enough, we very may well be one of the last standing Outposts that remains relatively intact.”

Continued from (X)

[geocait0815]

Demons Grasp - Chapter 20

Holy smokes, people! I have initially planned this story to have 5 or 6 chapters and now look where we are!

But we have reached the end of our journey :) I am very happy with how this turned out, especially with so many of you reading along and leaving positive feedback. This gave me the motivation I needed to see this through. I hope everyone enjoyed this as much as I did.

I raise my hand to shield my eyes from the bright headlights directed at us. Doors clap and a middle-aged man in an expensive looking gray suit approaches us. He is flanked by two mountains in black suits. They seem relaxed, no guns are pointing at us, yet. When they stop, the two huge men stand back a few steps, feet spread apart and hands crossed in front of their crotches. They are wearing a decidedly disinterested looks on their faces.

“MC Landon?”, the gray one addresses me. “Yes… Who are you?” “Irrelevant. We have come here because we share an interest in disbanding a rogue cell of government officials dealing with classified information.” Oh, really? “A few hours ago, we received a quite impressive collection of information that serves as evidence against said organization, including names, locations, clients and communications. There are raids being carried out throughout the country as we speak.” 

I wonder who this anonymous source could be. It must be someone from Tess’ group of hackers. They are the only ones with access to all the information. But what does this mean for us now? I can sense the men behind me shuffling. After all that happened tonight they can’t be happy about more agents showing up now.

“Look, we need to get out of here and to a hospital.” I take a small side step to grant him a view on Beaker and Curly struggling to keep Jake upright. “And you will. I won’t take up much of your time. We have come here tonight to ensure the men acting on behalf of the rogue cell are being brought into custody. I take it this is the wanted hacker, calling himself Nym-0s?” He takes a step forward but I step back between him and Jake. Several of Jacky's men also step forward, forming a protective wall beside me.

The two black-suited giants shift as well, reaching into their jackets. But the gray one raises one hand and they settle back. “We are not here for him. In fact, I have authorization to grant him and everyone involved in tonight's events full immunity in exchange for an agreement to keep everything confidential regarding the rogue cell, their activities and our involvement in its destruction. As long as none of this ever reaches the public, none of you will face repercussions or prosecution. As soon as you agree to this, all of you are free to leave and my men will get to work cleaning up whatever you left behind in there.”

This is a very surprising turn of events. And it sounds almost too good to be true. I glance around. The expressions of the men next to me betray no emotion, though I can sense a tension radiating from them. When I catch Jacky’s eye, she just shrugs. Several men died here tonight. Several more are incapacitated and tied up in and around the building behind us. This agreement would guarantee the safety of Jacky and her men after all they did for Jake and me. The same goes for Tess and her friends. And if this deal is real, it would mean that Jake would also be free, finally.

But can I make a decision like that for him? A cold hand grasps my heart when I look at Jake now, slumped between the two men holding him up. I am not even sure if he is conscious and aware of what is happening around him right now.

He must have read my mind, though. Because as I am standing here, looking at him, considering our options, he raises his head ever so slightly. His piercing blue eyes are barely visible behind the bruising and swelling in his face. But he seems clearer than before. And he gives me a brief nod.

********

A few days later

After getting lost a few times, I am now very familiar with the labyrinth of narrow hospital hallways. I have not left this building since we finally got Jake here. I can barely remember the drive here. But I do remember the relief after he got the much needed medical attention. I had to put up a fight with several nurses before they finally agreed to let me stay at his side.

Jake has been fading in and out of consciousness, largely due to the pain medication. Several of his bones are broken, including two ribs. Thankfully, his lungs were not punctured from this. Aside from this, there were several cuts and a myriad of bruises. And they had to get the drugs out of Jake’s system, that he was injected with to keep him calm while being held.

I had to undergo some medical checks as well, since I took quite a beating myself. The scratches on my left cheeks have been joined by several bruises and a cut in my lower lip. Right now I am returning from receiving the results of my bloodwork. Both Jake and I have been drained several times. For testing, they say. But by now I am convinced that this hospital is run by vampires.

Before turning the last corner I stop at a vending machine and grab several cups of coffee, and tea for myself. I have mastered the skill of carrying multiple plastic cups of hot liquid back to the room during the last few days.

Two men are standing guard in front of Jake's room. Jacky still does not fully trust the deal we have made and insists on stationing guards. Tess and Maya have visited almost every day as well. Even Max and Flex showed up once. It turned out that it was Max who leaked the information to a contact he had somewhere in the government. He told me that they owed him a favor and promised they were trustworthy. He never gave me a reason to not trust him so I left it at that.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I come bearing gifts.” I smile at the two guards and hand over two of the cups. Stepping into the room I am surprised by seeing Jake awake and sitting up, talking to Tess. She has propped herself into the remarkably uncomfortable armchair that I moved next to the window close to Jake’s bed.

“Jake! You are awake. How are you feeling?” I walk over and place the cups on the table attached to the hospital bed. Then I sit down at the edge of the bed. “Still a bit foggy. But much better. Your friend here has started catching me up on what you were up to since we got separated.” He raises an eyebrow. “You never told me you had connections like this.”

Oof, that is going to be a long story. “Well, I am full of surprises.” “You sure are.” The smile he gives me sends butterflies through my body. It feels so good being at his side again and seeing him being on the mend. I reach out and gently place my hand on his cheek.

A nurse bursts into the room. “I am going to need a moment with the patient.” I get off the bed. Tess also gets up. “Hey MC. Can I talk to you for a minute?” “Sure.” “Let’s go outside.” We walk into the hallway. “I’ve come in today to say goodbye” Tess says. “Oh?” “Yeah... I’ve landed a lucrative IT job at a major corporation. I think right now I prefer to lay low for a little while.” Why is she being so cryptic?

“But we will stay in touch? We still have so much to catch up on.” “Of course!” “Thanks for everything. I don’t know what I would have done if I had not found you. I owe you and the others a lot.” “We are all happy that we could help. This whole thing turned out bigger than anything we were ever involved in.” She pulls me into a tight hug.

When we separate, her expression is serious again. “One more thing: Jacky asked me to let you know that she considers her payment as taken care of.” “What do you mean? I did not get around to that yet.” Meaning I have not figured out yet how to come up with the full amount. Tess shoots me a conspiratory grin. “Don’t worry about it.” Then she just walks away leaving me baffled.

Back at the room I meet the nurse on her way out.  “Everything is looking good so far. He will need some rest now, though.” I nod and walk in. Jake really does look exhausted. I circle the bed and climb onto it next to him, making sure to not get tangled with his IV accidentally. “Do you need anything?” I ask, while gently stroking his hair. “A kiss would be paramount to my recovery.” I laugh and bend down to meet his lips. We stay like this for a long, precious moment. Then I carefully shift down to rest my head on his chest.

“I have talked to your sisters earlier.” This had been a long and excruciating call. I had a lot of explaining to do, since I had been ignoring Lilly's calls for several days. “They are on their way here. I might need protection from Lilly, though. She is furious with me for not telling them earlier about what was happening.” I do not get a reply from him. The silence stretches on for so long that I am convinced he has fallen asleep.

But then I feel his hand stroking up and down my arm. “Where were you earlier when I woke up?” Right. I sit up again, taking his hand into mine. “I was just down the hall with a doctor. He was giving me the results of some bloodwork they insisted on running after we came to the hospital.” I see concern flickering up in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, it depends on how you see it. Look, they have uncovered that I am suffering from a condition.” “What? What condition? Nothing serious, I hope.” “Oh it is pretty serious. And it will affect our lives permanently.” I lift his hand, which I am still holding, up to my lips and press a gentle kiss on his fingers. Then I lower it to my belly. The expression in his face shifts from concern to confusion as he stares at his hand.

Then the penny drops and he looks up into my eyes, beaming with joy.

Previous Chapter

[bukojuiice]

get you.

ೃ pairing: (husband! executive levi ackerman x wifey! reader)

ೃ  warnings: nsfw (18+) - the rest of the tags are below the cut! c:

ೃ genre: smut

ೃ word count: 2,696 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my college au! eren x fem! reader (fluff)

ೃ song inspo: get you by daniel caesar ft. kali uchis

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ “visit your husband at work” day is an actual event that happens every 3rd Thursday of the month at the company Levi works in. however, after he’s become too focused on the workload for the day and you’ve grown impatient as he wasn’t paying attention to you at all, you had to find a way to grab his attention. 

additional tags: fem dom! reader, slight bondage, sub! levi then a dramatic shift to dom! levi 

hope you enjoy reading!

Today is the 3rd Thursday of the month.

Which meant “Visit your Husband at Work” Day.

No. Like, it was literally an actual holiday that existed in the company.

One of Levi’s fellow executives, Hange Zoe, created a whole-ass holiday just so to tease you and Levi.

Not that it was a problem though, it was always so fun to watch your husband work so sternly and seriously. Even if he ignored you most of the time, especially when you were being annoying and were asking too many questions.

This month’s iteration of the holiday though… left much to be desired.

Your ever so busy husband promised you a lunch date at one of the swankiest restaurants in the business district, however he was so swarmed with papers, business plans, and taking calls from important clients that could he not take 1 hour out of his day just to spend time with you and keep the spirit of this “holiday” alive?

It really doesn’t make any sense. He could relay the client calls to his secretary, Eren, for an hour and a half, then once he gets back, he could go through them and call them back again.

Was it that hard to do?

Despite your many pleas of asking him to just stop working for a few minutes and eat some take out McDonald’s chicken nuggets with you, he still refuses to do so. He even remarked about how unhealthy they were, but you corrected him by telling him that it was alright to eat from time to time at least.  

The whole chicken nuggets exchange you had with him, put you into an even more sour mood.

Before he could even ask where you were about to go, you stormed out of his office, trying to get a reaction from him, so that he would try and make it up you. However, that did not happen and your romantic fantasy of Levi holding you by the wrist, whispering huskily into your ear, not wanting you to leave was not achieved.

So, you then head over to Hange’s office where they were eating lunch with their secretary, Moblit, and surprisingly, the company’s very own Erwin Smith, the CEO of Survey Corp. (get it? Because survey corps? Mwahahaah ok I’ll see myself out)

This got you even more confused, because why are both Hange and Erwin able to eat lunch so casually whilst your husband is so tense and stressed about all the paper works that he has to go through?

“AHH! Ms (Y/N)!” Hange beams at you as soon as they see you enter the room. “What brings you here? Does Levi not want to leave his office again?” They giggled. You greet the three of them back with a wave, but a sad smile present on your face. Erwin raises his eyebrow at you in worry.

“Ms (Y/N), is everything alright?” The blonde man asks worriedly, taking another sip of his afternoon tea. “Did you get into a fight with our most loved and hardworking executive?” He teases, trying to keep the atmosphere light and carefree.

“That’s the problem actually.” You laugh exasperatedly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “He promised me that we would go out for lunch, but he didn’t commit and told me he was caught up in a lot of business calls, and he didn’t want to miss any of them as they were very important.”

“Oh? He can just give them to Eren though. They aren’t extremely important calls. We’re not even trying to bag some huge business deal right now. I told Levi to loosen up a bit, but he continues to want to see through with everything.”

You breathe out an irritated sigh, crossing your arms in disappointment. “I’ll be going back to his office now. I’ll be talking to my husband about this and his workaholic tendencies.” You bite your lip, trying to muster a smile, waving goodbye and leaving as soon as you arrived.

“Aw. I wasn’t able to ask if she wanted some sashimi.” Hange pouts, holding a small paper bag that contained the premium dish. “Erwinnn should I go after her?”

“Nope. Don’t.” Erwin shakes his head, laughing, clearly in a very good mood.

“Huh!? Why can’t I-“

Erwin gives them a knowing look, raising his eyebrow suggestively as if referring to something.

“Ohhhh.”

You arrive back at Levi’s office, your arms crossed, waiting for the raven-haired man to greet you. The man you know and love so well, was still very much engrossed with the materials and blueprints he was reading.

He looks up at you then goes back to what he was doing.

You lock the door behind you and then proceed to sit at the long velvety couch situated in the middle of Levi’s huge ass office. Your arms remain crossed, so were your legs as you begin to read a random book laying on the coffee table.

Levi steals some quick glances at you from time to time and your petty self pretends that you don’t notice him doing so.

You hear him sigh and take off his black rimmed glasses that he only wears during work. He then rubs his temples and clear his throat, to try and get your attention.

“(Y/N) love, I know you’re disappointed over the fact I didn’t push through with our lunch plans. I know that you know how much I love you but this is a very important-“

You stand up from the couch and throw the book carelessly to the table. Approaching him with a rather alluring aura surrounding you, your husband giving you a puzzled look as you arrive in front of his table.

He stands up, thinking you were about to envelop him in a hug and accept his apology until…

You grip the lapels of his suit and yank Levi hard against you.

“Prove it.”

Your lips clash with his. Kissing him with every ounce of frustration and heat in your body. But even as Levi’s arms come around you, holding you flush against him, he suddenly pulls back with a questioning look on his face.

“(Y/N)…”

“Maybe you might be too busy for this too Mr. Ackerman.”

You push his jacket off his shoulders before your fingers slide along the back of his neck as you guide his wet, hungry mouth back to yours.

Levi spins you around, pushing your back against the cold glass of the windowpane, the beautiful city skyline as your backdrop whilst you make love? It was perfect.

He lifts your wrists up above your head, holding it there with one hand while the other explores your body, caressing the skin he could touch even though you were still fully clothed.

“Levi…”

You feel exposed in a way that makes your pulse race, the intensity and the heat between the two of you continue to escalate as his fingers find a strip of bare skin at your waist, then slide up beneath your clothes to trace the curve of your breast. He continues fondling it whilst his other hand slowly unbuttons your blouse, revealing the beauty that was your upper body. Levi takes in the view, breathing

You arch your back, pressing your body against him. His tongue continues to tangle  with yours, and he moans into your mouth.

“Can you even get back to work after this?”

“It depends how much you can keep me busy.”

Levi picks you up easily in his arms. You lock your legs around his waist as he carries you across the office.  He sweeps everything off his desk with a loud crash and lays you down.

Again, you were seeing a different version of him. Not only was it not typical of him to be careless and thrashing things around like this, but the way you can feel his heart beat and his emotions just by these gestures and the two of you haven’t even arrived at the good part yet.

Your head swims, going wild over the thought of what the two of you could end up doing as he unfastens your clothes and throws them across the room. Very out of character for a man who wants to be clean and organized all the time.

His lips trail kisses all over your body, pausing to skim his teeth along your side, caressing each soft spot, turning you on even more.

“I want to eat you up…” He whispers, continuing to smother you with all the love that he can give, touching you everywhere he can.

You look down your body at him, taking in the intense look in his eyes. You want him…

But you also want to make him pay for how he treated you today.

“You have to earn that privilege, Mr. Ackerman.”

You sit up from the desk, pushing him back lightly.

“(Y/N)…”

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Levi.” You wink at him, sucking your finger and waving it in front of him. “And you know what that means…”

“I’m going to tie you up.”

Levi, lets out a soft curse, as you hop down from the desk and motion for him to take a seat behind it. He has no choice but to follow you, albeit a bit surprised as this was something new that the two of you haven’t experience yet. He starts to move around the desk when you call out to him.

“Wait.”

You lean in and skim your fingers over the exposed skin of his chest, then tug lightly on the open flap of his shirt.

“I don’t want to have to deal with this later.” You wink at him again, running your fingers through his abs, caressing them, and you know that something was stimulating inside of your raven-haired lover.

Levi then quickly strips out of the rest of his clothes, then takes a seat in his office chair, arms on the armrests.

You grab a spare cord from one of his desk drawers, then tie his wrist to the chair. You do the same for his other hand, letting your fingers trail along his bare body, noticing the bulging erection in his pants before you step back and admire your handiwork.

“Aren’t you a sight?” You tease him, your husband smirks and shakes his head at how you were the one showing dominance this time around.

Levi tries to reach for you but stops when he pulls against the cords. He sits back with a pout.

“This isn’t fair.” He cursed under his breath. “I want to touch you.”

“Oh… you want to talk about not fair? What have you been doing all morning then?”

You lean over the chair, careful not to touch him, to try and tease him even more. You let your breasts idle near his face… so close, you can feel his breath ghost over your skin. He visibly gulps.

“And now you’re being punished for it.”

You hop back on the desk, facing Levi. You spread your legs so he can see every inch of you, you hear him gulp again and you were loving the attention as you slip your fingers under your panties.

“Tch…” He cursed under his breath.

Your head lulls back as you let the pleasure course through your veins, trying your best to stop yourself from mewling in pleasure. You call out his name, as if imagining that you were pleasuring yourself whilst he wasn’t around. “A-ah…”

Touching yourself in front of Levi is a power trip like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You can barely control your movements as your hips buck up. You continue to rub your clit in a circular motion. Your husband continues to watch.

Levi licks his lips as he struggles against his restraints. You slow your fingers as you consider him…

“Hmm… have you been punished enough yet?”

“No… but I can’t make it up to you properly unless you let me touch you.” He continues to breathe heavily, still trying to free himself from the restraints.

Selfishly, you know he’s right. You reach out to untie the cords, and he’s all over you, quickly pressing your body onto his, before the ropes even fall to the ground. Levi continues to kiss you deeply, pressing you back against the desk as his hands work your panties down your thighs.

“I haven’t been able to think about anything else all day. I know we could have just done this at home.”

“And now? What do you think is the point of this work holiday?”

His fingers make their way back up your bare legs, stroking you teasingly.  “And now… I can barely control myself. I want to devour you.”

You lean back and let your legs fall open as wide as they can. You fight back a blush as he hungrily takes in every inch of you. Levi bows at your feet, lowering his mouth between your thighs and working his tongue against you. He slowly licks the inside curves of your pussy, taking in every inch of you. He continues to make work of exploring your insides by a finger, pushing it in and out.

You shiver and grip the desk, reeling from the sensation.

“Levi!”

“If you want me to make this up to you properly, then you can’t come yet.” He stops for a second, now it was his turn to tease you.

“Can you do that, Ms. Ackerman? Can you hold back until I tell you?” Levi punctuates his question with a devilish twirl of his tongue, and you gasp.

“Yes. I can.”

“I can take whatever you have to give. Don’t hold back.”

Levi smirks at you, and you know he’ll rise to the challenge. He licks his lips… then dips his head and licks you. His tongue continues to ravish you, deeply and heavily, unrelenting.

“A-ah I’m going to!“ You mewl, your hands looking for something to grasp.

“Already? I thought you said you could take it?”

Your body trembles as he sucks and nips on your nipples, leading you toward the brink. He makes his tongue rigid as it flicks against your clit. You lift your head enough to see Levi’s hand working between his legs, touching his cock in rhythm with you as he groans out your name.

“L-levi…” You gesture him to enter you, your finger pointing down as your breath continues to hitch, craving more for him.

He slowly enters as if teasing you, and you feel your juices stimulate as you become one with him. He continues to thrust in, shifting from a normal to a fast pace, still relentlessly teasing you. How the tables have turned.

Levi’s pace grows even faster and faster, it was as if his dick was enlarging inside of you too. Your moans were in sync with his and with one final thrust…

That’s all it takes. Your body clenches, and you fly over the edge, ecstasy crashing over you.

You both exchange your I love you’s, leaning in for one last kiss as you feel the last pump enter inside you.

Levi slowly holds you and helps you down from the desk. It was such a smooth release that not one drop fell onto the desk. If it did though, his clean freak tendencies would probably show by now.

“Let’s clean up. I have a meeting at 3.” He says, still catching his breath, picking up his clothes that he threw from the other side of the room.

“So… you’re telling me that we can still have our lunch date!?” Your eyes lit up; the raven-haired man offers to help you clip your bra.

“Yes. Then let’s go to the spa after.” He smiles, combing a hand through your hair, kissing your shoulder before you finish wearing your blouse again.

“Does that mean we can also do it in the spa?” You ask, suggestively.

“No.”

“Aw. You’re no fun.”

Fin.

me after writing this and as i hit post now:

[rosesgonerogue]

How to be a Dad 101

Chapter Six - Modeling

Jasonette July Day Eight

Masterlist

When Jason was a kid, his family was too poor to take any sort of trip, which at the moment he was missing. He didn’t have any concept of how normal people travelled, but it turned out that even if you were travelling to Paris in a private jet, doing so with your entire family was a downright nightmare.

“Does everyone have all of their bags?” Bruce was calling above the din. “And passports? We need to act like a normal family, so you need to exchange your money for euros when we get there, we shouldn’t just show up with them.”

“B, you’ve already said that at least fifteen times,” Stephanie complained.

“Why exactly is she coming on a family vacation?” Damian demanded. “She’s not even dating Drake anymore.”

“Face it, Damian. Your family chose me, they were stuck with you.”

“Father, you need to choose between Brown and Drake. I cannot be expected to tolerate both for an extended period of time.”

“Oh calm down, Little D. It’ll be fun!” Dick said, slinging an arm over his youngest brother’s shoulder.

Jason sidled over to Cass and whispered, “How many weapons did Bruce say we could bring?”

She looked at him with her unreadable dark eyes. “None.”

“Okay, that’s what he said, but how many are you bringing?”

Silently she held up seven fingers.

“Damn, I have eight. Do you think I can get away with that?” They looked at each other a moment. “You’re right, B definitely has more than that.”

“If you all don’t get yourselves and your belongings on the plane within the next five minutes you’re finding your own way to Paris!” Selina called over the noise.

“Move it, suckers!” Babs yelled, running at least three people’s feet over with her wheelchair in her haste. Despite the pain she caused, once she got to the plane, she was able to expertly maneuver herself onto it, letting Dick struggle aboard with both of their luggage. Jason kept himself as far away from the eldest Wayne child as possible. Every time Dick looked at Jason, he could see the apology in his brother’s eyes, which only served to piss him off all over again. Maybe he was being irrational, and maybe he was just on edge because they were heading to Paris, but Jason couldn’t really find it in himself to care.

He slept fitfully on the flight, doing his best to ignore his family, be it Dick and Babs being the disgusting newlywed couple, or just Damian being… Damian. His dreams were strange and disjointed, filled with blue eyes and whispered French.

After dealing with customs and getting checked into their hotel (which was almost exclusively inhabited by their party, because of course it was), Jason had no desire to ever go on another family trip ever again. The thought of doing all of that without skipping lines and cutting corners they were able to thanks to Bruce’s money was almost painful. But then again, people with less money also didn’t have to deal with Damian and Tim in the same space for an extended period of time.

Thanks to the nap he’d had on the plane and the fact that he was in Paris, Jason found he couldn’t sleep. He found himself wandering the hotel, taking in the opulent surroundings. He thought he would only see hotel staff if he were to see anyone, but on his way to the hotel’s twenty-four hour gym, he stumbled across a blonde dressed vaguely like a bumblebee who was arguing with someone on the phone.

“Listen, Dupain-Cheng, you are not taking advantage of these clients. No! You’ve been staying up at all hours of the night – don’t you dare argue with me, you’re up right now, aren’t you? And you have to take care of gremlins in the morning. No, she agreed to do it, it’s not exploiting them, it’s allowing them to pay you back for the giant favor you’re doing them! Fine, I will give her a discount, but this is not how you build a brand! Now go to sleep, the photoshoot is tomorrow. Don’t give me that, we both know you’ll finish things up with time to spare. Now go. To. Sleep.”

After a few moments the blonde hung up, and she seemed to be in a foul mood when she saw Jason. “And what do you want?”

“To get to the gym? You’re blocking the door.”

“And you were just eavesdropping. Your French isn’t bad for an American,” she said, flouncing away with a hair flip. “But your accent is horrible.”

“It can’t be as bad as your attitude,” he sneered under his breath before shoving into the exercise room.

Once inside, Jason ran himself to exhaustion, grateful when he collapsed into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. His dreamless sleep was fleeting, though, because it felt like only moments later that he was jolted awake by the sound of his phone ringing.

Glaring at the offending technology, he considered silencing it, but when he saw it was Selina, he thought better of that.

“Yes?”

“You have an hour to look awake and presentable. Meet up in the hotel lobby.”

She hung up as abruptly as she had called, leaving Jason blinking at his phone. He considered rolling over and going back to sleep, but he’d probably need the entire hour just to get his hair to Selina’s standards.

Cass was already in the lobby when Jason was finally ready, and thankfully Dick was nowhere to be seen. Sidling up next to his sister, Jason asked, “Do you know what we’re doing?” His level of concern grew exponentially when she shook her head. Everyone knew Bruce was weak for Cass, so if Cass didn’t know, that meant that the scheme was entirely Selina’s.

Unsurprisingly, Grayson the peacock was the last person to make it to the group. Babs was too annoyed with him to even make some sort of innuendo, she just complained about how long it took for him to do his hair.

“So what’s the plan, Selina?” Stephanie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“You’ll find out when we get there. Follow me, we have a ways to walk,” Selina said, smiling wickedly.

The family obediently trudged after Selina, grouping up as they moved. Jason saw Dick make a beeline for him, but Babs caught his arm. “Babe, will you stick with Damian to make sure that he doesn’t maim any Parisians?”

“Sure, babe,” he said, deflating a bit.

As expected, only moments later Babs rolled up next to him. “Listen here, you giant. If you’re going to make me catch up to you, the least you can do is push my wheelchair.”

“Whatever,” Jason said, doing as she asked.

“I hope you know you’re killing my husband, by the way. He’s goingi crazy because he doesn’t know what to do to apologize to you.”

“Good.”

“I know you don’t mean that, Jason, and I know that because we both know I’m the one you’re actually mad at.”

“Am I?”

“Bringing up the French girl was a low blow. You told me about that in confidence, and I threw it in your face. I’m sorry, Jason.”

“That did piss me off, I just… Babs, why did you marry Dick?”

“Is that a trick question? Because I love him, stupid.”

“But how did you know that you loved him that much? Because ever since I met my ‘French girl,’ I can’t even think about looking at someone else. It’s insane because I knew her for like a day, but I’ve never… I’ve never felt like that with anyone before, but I didn’t feel right trying to make anything more out of what we had because of how royally screwed up our lives are. How could I subject someone who is possibly a literal angel to our lives? I’ve never questioned my decision on that before, but lately I can’t stop thinking about her, and now we’re here, in Paris where she lives.”

“Wow.” Babs said. “I didn’t know… That’s a lot, Jay.”

“Thanks.”

“Give a girl some time to process, okay? Geez. I don’t know if I believe in fate and that kind of crap, but this feels eerily like destiny. Maybe you’re meant to meet her here in Paris. If you do, then don’t run away. Stick it out for at least as long as we’re here. You wouldn’t be the first of us to have a relationship with a civilian.”

“But what if—”

“Jason, bothering yourself about all of the ‘what ifs’ is only going to drive you crazy. We don’t even know if you’re going to meet her here. Let things run their course.”

He sighed. “You’re right, thanks Babs. And I’ll tell your husband that I forgive him, the sap.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After a few blocks more, Selina abruptly stopped in front of a building. It was clearly some sort of business, but the doors only said, “MDC” across them. “This is it, kids. Come on in.”

Tim could be heard freaking out about something or other, but Jason found himself hoping that whatever was happening would be quick and painless. Inside, curiously enough, the same blonde from last night was waiting for them.

“You must be the Wayne family, here for the photoshoot,” she said in flawless English. “MDC had some personal affairs to tend to, so she will be here shortly.”

“Photoshoot?” Bruce asked, looking at Selina.

“This is the shop of the designer who is making my dress,” Selina purred with a winning smile. “Ordinarily she wouldn’t have been able to fit me, you and all the kids in with how little time we gave her, but she’s releasing her first line of clothes to the general public, and her normal models are away. It’s a fairly sizeable line, and she wanted diversity, so I volunteered our beautiful family.”

“We’re going to be modeling?” Damian asked, disgusted.

“We’re going to be modeling for MDC?!” Tim asked, nearly bouncing with excitement.

“Dude, you’re a CEO. Have some shame,” Babs said, elbowing him.

“You’re already booked and committed. Once MDC gets here she’ll decide who will be wearing what, and then we’ll get started,” the blonde said. As if on cue, there was a crash in the back room, and the blonde sighed. “That will be MDC now.”

Jason was only mildly curious what this designer might be like, but it seemed that things would be at least a bit entertaining. Even before she burst from the backroom, she was spewing frantic French to the blonde.

“Chloe, I’m so sorry I’m late, Jules kept spilling things on himself on purpose, and then the babysitter was sick, so I had to find someone else, and then I missed the train and –”

Emerging from the backroom was a beautiful pixie-like girl, a girl who had starred in almost every dream Jason had had since they’d met. Jason was completely frozen at the sight of her.

Marinette. Marinette was MDC, the only designer Selina would think of wearing on her wedding day.

She stopped at seeing the mass of people in her store, but she immediately smiled sincerely, eyes flitting from person to person. In English she said, “You must be the Wayne family, thank you so much for agreeing to model for me. It really—” she cut off mid-sentence, eyes wide. “Jason? Is that really you?”

Taglist: 

@jasonette-july-2k20 @ira-sairain @myazael @pawsitivelymiraculous @nik-nak-3 @dast218 @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm  @vixen-uchiha @momothefemur @toodaloo-kangaroo @marinettepotterandplagg @goddessofthewestwind

Note: 

In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t done yesterday’s prompt yet. It’s in the works, but my life is complete chaos, and it will just have to be late. Even though it was such a fun prompt, I have been having some severe writer’s block. Anyway, I’m super excited for the next few chapters, it’s happening! 

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (36)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Have you already seen an angry bull, charging at full speed, horn forward, ready to pick up the unfortunate one who will be on the road? Yes, I know, this question is a little strange but in the current context... it’s the order of the day. If you've watched one of these American police series at least once in your life, you know how interrogations take place... especially when they are muscular. After a while, the investigator loses patience and becomes a little upset. Well, let’s say that Danny is experiencing this scene and, fortunately for him, he’s not on the other side of the interrogation room. Because if Wilhelm has been able to remain patient so far... He’s currently like that famous angry bull. Without the horns.  

2 days after your... little tasteful evening with Ghostface, Danny found himself at the police station to attend the interrogation of Hoggins who, despite the media and police pressure, remained marble. How, that's the question. There is a lot of evidence that he’s a suspect, even though we know the truth about McKellan's murder. Danny's perfect plan was perfected even more thanks to this fool of rich man who was too stupid to stay in place. The photo, the interrogation of Devon, the phone calls... Everything incriminated him. And yet he remained serene as if all this was only a conspiracy and that he was the light of justice. Poor asshole. At least Danny didn't need to falsify any evidence. Hoggins brought them to him on a silver platter. Even if his "Jed" side regrets it a little, because he saw how much Wilhelm was involved in this case, he was eager to see the reaction of the latter when he’ll discover that from the beginning it was indeed, he, Ghostface, who had committed this crime. And that while he was going after Hoggins, other victims suffered this sad fate.

“I bet you 10 dollars that the boss will turn the table.” said one of the officers.

“I bet you 20 dollars and a restaurant that he will not.” responds another one.  

“What exactly is the point of anger?” asks Danny without looking away from the interrogation room.

“Let's say that we get to the critical stage and that any object in the room, including the table, can suddenly start flying.”

“Oh. Good.” Replied Danny, who feels the two officers look at him strangely.

On the other side, Hoggins did not move, his back straight, proud as usual. As if it was a bad dream and he was just going to wake up in bed. Wilhelm tried to remain calm, but in front of a man like him... it was complicated.

“Mr Hoggins, I don’t know if you realise what situation you are in. There is much, MUCH evidence against you. If you really have nothing to reproach yourself for, if you’re truly innocent, then cooperate.” said Wilhelm, trying to stay calm.  

“I can't help you more than that inspector. As I told you, all this is just lies and plots against me. Coming from whom, I don't know. I have always been an honest man and, although I admit that I had indeed ... had some unwelcome words towards Horace, he was a very good partner and a good friend.” responds Hoggins with a fake smile.  

“We have this photo, the testimony of the man who is on it, your phone records and the text message you exchanged! and you absolutely want to prove me wrong!? Stop taking me for a fool!”

“This man would be able to say anything for money or to have peace. I don’t deny the messages exchanged with Horace. As for the photo... it’s not evidence as it infringes on my privacy. I could file a complaint but I'm not to belittle myself to this kind of... stupidity.”

“The photo was taken in a legal framework, Mr. Hoggins. the journalist who took it was turned away at the entrance of your residence when he had come to write an article about you, long before the scandal broke. He had taken several photos of the place to illustrate his article. The prosecutor confirmed this to me. What about the car that was patrolling around McKellan's house a few days before his murder? We were able to find this vehicle and its owner, and he confirms that he was on the scene at YOUR request. And with the following terms: Watch me this scabby dog. Never leave his eyes. And take the opportunity to see how to enter, without being noticed.”

“... I don’t see what this man is talking about at all.” replied Hoggins with the same fake smile.  

Wilhelm inhaled loudly before leaving the room to join Danny and the two officers who were there. He entered the room by violently slamming the door, ready to destroy everything in his path. An image that made our beautiful murderer smile. Nothing makes him happier than to see Wilhelm on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

“I swear to you, that if it were not for the investigation, it would be a long time since I exploded his jaw against the table. Damn, I dream of being able to put this rotten man in jail. I can't get enough of his satisfying little smile, even you Olsen, you are more bearable and less annoying than him!” said Wilhelm trying to regain his calm.

“As you said to me, Hoggins is not a simple man. He’s a big fish. He knows how to play his pawns to win.” responds Danny before whispering to himself: “But he’s nothing than a kid compared to me. I’m a GOD in that category.”

“With everything we have on him he should talk! Even if it is to prove his innocence! But here, I don’t see how he could say that he is not involved in this case! it's all there! I... Damn, I need to hit on something. »

In a sense it was better for Danny that Hoggins defended himself. A man who confesses too quickly is not fun for him. No, Danny is a man who appreciates having strong opponents in front of him. And Hoggins is a prime opponent. Killing him is going to be a pure delight. 3 Days to wait... We will have to find something to deal with between now and then. Fortunately, some sad souls, drunk or drugged, hang out in the streets in the evening... Otherwise his life would be nothing but a mortal boredom.

And then at least... there's you. It's been two days since you and Danny officially lived together, something you celebrated of course. But something was wrong with you. As Jed, he pretended to ignore it, but in reality, he knew very well what you were thinking. He didn't stop thinking about it and he couldn't wait for one thing: to take his place again. How will you react? Several options are possible.

The most unlikely would be that you jump into his arms to kiss him, and just agree to live with a murderer, becoming his accomplice. That would be too good to be true. The second option would be fear and misunderstanding. Knowing that he lied to you all this time.... you would be despaired. But you’ll have no choice but to accept it, permanently tarnishing your relationship. Which will bother Danny a bit. And knowing you, the last possible option is that you fight him and notify the police. In this case he would have no choice but to kill you. It would break his heart, but his secret must remain so above all.  

Hoggins' interrogation lasted a few more minutes until his lawyer arrived. And we can say that he is as stupid as his client. Two head-to-slap for the price of one. He has every interest in not being there when Danny kills Hoggins. otherwise... Well, that will make two murders for the price of one. Christmas before time for our murderer. The two men leave the police station and Wilhelm turned the table in the interrogation room, making one of the officers win the bet. Danny left the interrogation room and crossed Hoggins' gaze in the distance, the latter smiling at him to provoke him. But Danny wasn't an idiot and responded in the same way.

“Hmph. Assholes.” Danny simply said.  

“Well Olsen... sorry for bothering you for that. But at least we are making progress. It may not be proven that it was Hoggins who paid the man who ransacked your girlfriend's coffee... But there is a lot of evidence to suspect him of McKellan's murder. It's a matter of time, I guess.” said Wilhelm.  

“Don't worry about that. He loses nothing to wait. You will eventually have him. His provocative little smile will soon fall. With that, I'll leave you. I still have work ahead of me. And an adorable girlfriend too. See you later, inspector.”

Danny left the police station to return to the apartment, still at work. The newspaper articles are not going to be written on their own. unfortunately. And in addition, he will be alone, given that you work at the café today. normally. He took the opportunity to do some shopping to fill the fridge, life for two, obviously the food goes down faster. Once he arrived, he put away the groceries, put down his belongings, took off his coat to end up in a tank top, and then walked to his office. And even there he locked it, from the inside. We never know in case you have the good idea to make him a surprise attack, when he clearly asked you not to enter this room.

He landed in front of his computer and began to write his articles, or even to finish others that he had already begun. Taking a break from time to time to rest his eyes, even with glasses you have to be careful. Drinking a sip of coffee, which was nothing compared to yours, he rereads what he had written so far. He was proud of it, proud of what he wrote, proud to see his work appreciated. Even if it is not his real name that is at the end of each article. Jed Olsen will always remain as a cover name... but in your eyes it will be Danny Johnson and nothing else. A name he can't wait to hear from you in your future... intimate evening.

He resumed writing his articles for a few more hours before stopping for today. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes and got up, taking his cup of coffee to wash it. He looked at his hunting board, including the photo of hoggins that he circled several times in red, then he left his office and locked it to avoid any intrusion on your part. It's not that he doesn't trust you but... Curiosity is sometimes too strong against reason.

“Well... Everything goes as planned... Hoggins even makes it easy for me. But I'm going to have to be careful. I feel like he wants to drag me along with him in his downfall. If I feel that it is too dangerous over the next 2 days... I wouldn't wait until the evening of the festival to kill him. Sorry honey, but I may have to speed things up.” said Danny to himself.  

Putting the news on TV, Danny started preparing the meal for tonight, when he got a call to say the least... singular. Wilhelm? But what did he want from him at this hour?

“Inspector? A problem?” he asks.

“Tell me Olsen... you lived well in Florida, didn't you? About 4/5 years ago? Does the name Nicolas Pheels tell you anything?” said Wilhelm.  

Danny's heart missed a beat. Obviously, he knew this name... It's the name of the man who destroyed Danny's life forever. The "doctor" who took care of Carla. But why and how did Wilhelm get this name?

“Olsen? Are you still there?”  

“Yeah. Yes, I know him. It was the doctor who took care of Carla until... until the end. Why?"

“My condolences. I did some research on Hoggins...  to learn a little more about this asshole. And it turns out that he lived in his second home in Florida and... he was visibly very friendly with this guy. From what I read, Hoggins financed the hospital run by Pheels. But some doctors said, in exchange for anonymity, that Hoggins was willing to fund a little more for each death. In order to pass this on to a material financial need. Of course... Pheels kept everything to himself.” replied Wilhelm.

“I knew it... What a son of a b**ch!” responds Danny.  

“This guy is dangerous Olsen... a real crazy one. So, pay close attention to you two, ok? He is not the type to be afraid of death.”

“Yes... I hope he will pay for what he has done. And believe me... he will pay dearly.”

Danny hung up, before hitting the worktop with force. Decidedly this little war with Hoggins has been going on for longer.... It's not just Pheels' fault... but also hoggins' fault if Carla had died. Pheels has already paid, Hoggins will pay double. 3 Days.... 3 small days... he couldn't wait. Suddenly he heard the front door open. And all his anger and frustration disappeared when he saw you enter, a cheerful smile on his lips. At least you had a better day than him.

“Hello Honey!” you said cheerfully.  

“Hi, Darling. How was your day?” Danny said with a little smile.  

“Darling? This is the first time I've heard you say that. Would I already be too old for you?”

“Ha ha, for me it's more of a form of politeness than anything else. And then it changes from Honey or Sweetheart, right?”

“Let us keep this expression for when we will be two old madmen in wheelchairs. And to answer your question... my day went very well. We are at the point on the cake for the festival, we are at the point on the festival anyway ... all we have to do is wait for the great event. And we had a lot of people at the café. What about you?”

Danny gently took you by the waist to stick you against him, burying his head in your neck. You hug him in return, rubbing his back to console him. He raised his head slightly, looking down at the front door, bad looking in his face. You know this look that could kill you without you being able to react... That's exactly what Danny looked... And if you weren't there, he would have made his smile the unhealthiest, the craziest of all the smiles he could make. But you are there so he has to stay in his role... All the way.

“So bad this day?” you ask even if you already know the answer.  

“No... let's say I just learned something... which I wish I had never known. I had my doubts... Now it's clear.”

And don't worry... You will also be in confidence.

And even you wouldn't dare to believe it.

***

(It makes an insupportable heat in my house, what a hell. Fortunately, fans exist! I am in the process of developing my fanfic on Re8 village, just to have a coherent scenario. I would like to warn that it will be a kind of... of alternative universe where unfortunately the Winters will be a little or not present at all. But there will be Chris! Since some characters like Lady Dimistrescu were inspired by Count Dracula and Countess Bathory, I decided to go in this spirit. If you dreamed of a lycan Heisenberg, I'll give it to you! (At least I'll try... I am not promising anything.) I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya!)

[cherryhanji]

tears and smudges

oneshot. bang chan x reader

genre: drama, angst, fluffy tones at the end

words: 4.3k

warning(s): foul language, super slight mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of degradation, themes of prostitution and sex, themes of violence, suggestive themes, mentions of drinking, lots of kissing at the end (lol)

alexa's note:

hello! this is my first time writing a scenario with those themes mentioned above. again, i'm not used with these kinds of themes but I tried my best to write this one. (But really, I can't write some scenes with explicit sex, graphic sexual content, as I've mentioned on my request guidelines)

If you're not comfortable with these kinds of stories, I do suggest to you that I have other works listed on my masterlist and most of them are fluffs (if it's your thing)

Sex work is the one that makes you stand on your own feet for almost five years. In this kind of living situation, you already met different kinds of people, and one of them is the person you really trust the most, the person that never judged you in all aspects. You met Chan at the bar you're currently working at, he is the kind of regular that never asks for sex unlike those grumpy old horny businessmen and horny college dudes in exchange of money.

Chan is a drunkard, tho. You'll never know about him if you didn't insist him to take you, a challenge you accepted from your coworkers who didn't charm their way into the man's heart. his looks are breathtaking, one thing that made your coworkers drool for him. But he didn't budge, saying that it's not his thing. This scenario continued until you gave up and decided to offer to be friends with him which he gladly accepted. That's when you knew he has respect for every woman, including you. That's why he always refuses to have sex either with you or your coworkers. That's when you knew he's the only guy you'll put your trusts into. And he never failed you. Always taking care of you after work. Listens to your rants about different clients you've encountered every work. He's the one who can bring out the inner you, the vulnerability that you always hide whenever you're at work. Showing him all the frustrations and judgments that you always, but despite that, he never, ever judged you. And you're beyond grateful for that.

"Hey, y/n. Is baby boy not coming tonight?" Your coworker asked when she didn't saw any traces of Chan on the bar stool.

"hey! Don't call him that! He has a name!" You said and chuckled.

"I think he's busy at work. It's not like he'll always spend the night here and drink until he becomes wasted as fuck." You said while putting on heavy makeup on your face. It's always been your routine before the clients went into the bar. Putting on those thick eyeliner and brick red lipstick that your regular clients like.

"Ladies! Listen up!" You're manager called all your attentions.

"This night is our biggest break! One of our biggest clients is here and you y/n" she pointed at you and you listened intently.

"You're the one he suggested tonight. Accept it, you'll have your big paycheck tomorrow after." She said and winked at you. You nod slowly as the thought sink in. Having a big paycheck means to you. But it also means that the client you're assigned tonight is quite tough, it's been five years since you started this kind of job but you still feel nervous about it. Shaking it off from your head, you prepare yourself as the bar finally opened its working hours now.

before you head out from the staff room, you checked first your phone if there are any messages on it, you smiled as you saw Chan's name on the notifications.

you chuckled as you read his message.

from: Chan

are there lots of people tonight? sorry I didn't go early. Work, you know.

to: Chan

yep. A lot, as usual, I got assigned to this biggest client of our bar. Good luck to me! Anyways, it's okay if u didn't come early tho, just focus on your work so you can have lots of money to spend on our booze.

your heart skips a beat as you read the familiar pet name he always calls you with, his princess. you shrugged and put back your phone inside your bag before starting to work.

from: Chan

I will princess, and I'll stop by later, I'll walk you home okay? Keep yourself from any harm. see you :>

_____

as usual, the bar is now stuffed with people who don't do anything but to have some fun, drink with friends, people who are brushing off their stress and frustrations away with the help of alcohol. You were used to these kinds of scenarios. And you once experienced them. Being an orphan made you lonely, in and out of foster homes to find your own kind of "home", you were once adopted by a couple who can't have their own child. You decided to leave the couple when your foster father always hit you whenever you do something that isn't to his likings. Growing up without someone guiding you made you face all the struggles that a person will always encounter without any knowledge on how to properly deal with it. That's why alcohol is your only escape. Brushing it off with alcohol that you always throw on your system. Temporarily forgetting all the problems that you will still face when you're sober.

You met someone who you thought will never leave you and betray you. But it turns out he just used you for his own sexual needs. Leaving you wasted and a crying mess for believing his shit. That's when you started having trust issues. Struggling to trust someone for not wanting to be abandoned again. But ever since Chan came to your life, you never once contemplated bringing back your trust to a person again. And you're glad that you did the right thing.

"Hey! Y/N!" Your coworker called you as soon as you went out of the staff room

"Oh, what is it?" You asked as you wander your eyes on the bar.

"Your client is now waiting for you." Your coworker said and pointed out the man who you assumed is in his late 20's. he looks so young for a millionaire, you thought.

"He's hot, isn't he? Go now! If I were you, I would love to have him as my client, lucky you, he picked you." She said and winked before she pushed you towards the client. You glared at her before fixing yourself and went to your client.

The man can't hide his desires as soon as you approached him on his seat.

"You're y/n if I'm not mistaken," the man said and you nodded confirming him.

"I've never made a mistake in choosing you. Come, join me here beautiful lady," he said and tapped the side of the couch signaling you to sit beside him which you accepted.

"Being your new client, I guess you know already who am I." He said. you gasped slightly, completely forgetting to ask your manager the name of your client. Stupid you.

The man chuckled at your sudden silence. "Oh I guess Ms. Jang didn't tell you, I'm Lee Minho, you can just call me Minho." He said and offered his hands to you asking for a handshake. You accepted it and smiled shyly at him.

"I, I'm sorry M-minho, I forgot to ask Ms. Jang about you." You said and smiled sheepishly.

"It's okay, dear. As long as you came here, I'm beyond okay with it. Want some drinks?" He offered you the glass containing expensive booze from your bar and gladly took it. Looks like with his oozing expensive looks and wealth, you think he can also buy the entire bar you're working at.

After a couple of drinks and talks with Minho, you can now sense that he is nearly intoxicated with the alcohol he's been drinking. You decided not to drink too much so you can still be aware of what was happening to your surroundings. While your eyes wander at the people who were having fun, a hand slowly nestled on your thighs, which made your breath hitched at the cold feeling. Looking at the owner of the hand, you saw Minho cocked his head at the side while smiling at you, a hint of desire in his eyes.

"Uh, Minho... Is there anything you need?" You're already used to these kinds of scenes so you just brush it off by asking him. You surely saw that his eyes darken for a second. His jaw clenched, hands now near at your inner thighs before he pulled it off and fixed his tie.

"Is there any room we can occupy?" He asked you. You stand up from your seat and ask him to wait for you while you asked your manager about it.

You went straight to the staff room and quickly check your phone first. You saw a message from Chan and you opened it.

you decided not to reply to him and went straight to your manager to ask what room did Minho purchase.

from: Chan

10 minutes more and I'll be there. I'll wait for you later, princess.

You went back to Minho who is calmly drinking while waiting for you. He immediately stands up as soon as you went near him. Grabbing your hand, he lets you guide him to where the room is.

As soon as you closed the door, Minho's hands wander to the different parts of your body, satisfying himself by touching your smooth skin.

"You're so fucking sexy, you know that?" Minho said as you just nodded at him.

"You don't know how much I want to wreck you now," Minho grunted, hands still exploring your lower part.

Minutes later, the touches were slowly getting rougher, one that made you winced because of the aggressive touches Minho giving you.

Hearing your whimpers that he thought came from the pleasure he gives you, he aggressively grabbed your chin with his big hands forcing you to look at him.

"I knew it. You love it when someone's being hard on you, huh? You like it, slut?" He said making your eyes widen and shook your head.

"No? Isn't this enough for you? You want it a harsh way? Okay. I'd love to do it then." He said and pulled you towards the bed, hands still on your chin. He pushed you harshly on the bed. Removing his top, he climbed on the bed giving himself space between your legs and harshly dive into your neck. You cried because of the harsh bites he gave you, with zero pleasure, pure pain. You try to wriggle out from his hard grip but it's no help.

Annoyed by your actions, he stopped what his assaults to you and slapped your face hard. Making you cry out because of the pain.

"What do you think you're doing, slut? Do you think you can deny me? I already bought you, remember? I paid a high amount to have you as my property now. You can't do anything but to obey me, because you're just a little slut, hungry for money." He said and put his hands on your throat with such force making tears slowly flow out from your eyes because of the lack of air. Did your manager just sell you out to this man?

He removed his hands from your throat making you choke, gasping for some air to breathe in, while he continues doing all his assaults to you. This is one of the things you really hate in this job, giving them the pleasure they want is okay not until they lay off their abusive hands to you. And because of this kind of abuse you mostly encounter because of your job, you learned how to properly defend yourself from it. Adrenaline rushed into you as you kick his crotch very hard making him fall to the side of the bed.

"Fuck you slut! What do you think you're doing?!" Minho blurted out while wincing from the pain on his crotch. You quickly get up from the bed and ran out of the room. Rushing to the staff room looking for your manager. You've had enough.

"Y/N?! W-what are you— where is Mr. Lee?" Your manager asked you as soon as you enter the staff room. Shaking with anger, you question your manager, "How could you—" you stopped trying not to cry out of anger. besides Chan, Ms. Jang is the second person you gave your trust into, taking care of you like a real mother. You just can't believe that she will sell you out in exchange for a big fucking amount of money.

Trying to ask you again, you interrupted her, "Did you just let that man bought me for a big amount of money? how could you do that to me, I thought you care for me?" You said, not wanting to cry in front of her. You stopped her when she tried to go near you.

"No, please don't go near me." You said

"I'm, I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't plan to do that. It's just that he threatened me, he said that he will report our bar to the police if I didn't give him what he wants, he wants you, Y/N. I, I can't risk our business. That's--"

"So you decided to sacrifice me?" You nodded and continued. "I understand... Who am I to refuse, I'm just a wasted orphan you adopted, a new girl you added to your collection. You know what, Ms. Jang, thank you for taking care of me for the last five years, I felt the love that I thought was real. Thanks for letting me experience how to have a real mother. It's been a nice journey. But I've had enough, it's like I've ever wanted this kind of life anyway. Thank you, and please tell the others, I'm thankful for them, too. I need to go. I can't stand this place anymore." You said and grabbed all your things. Ms. Jang tried to stop you but you didn't budge, you want to get out of this life for so long, maybe now is the time. As soon as you stormed out of the room, you saw Chan peacefully sitting on the barstool, assuming that he's waiting for you. He smiled as soon as he saw you but quickly withdrew it as he saw your expression. He immediately went to you and held your arms gently, softly caressing it.

"Hey, what happened?" He asked, eyes glassed with worry. You faintly smiled at him and grabbed his hands in your arms and squeezed it.

"Let's get out of here?" You asked and he just nodded, still clueless with what was happening.

"Where do you want to go?" Chan asked you as soon as you went out of the bar. Because of the situation, you can't go straight to your home as it was also Ms. Jang's home.

"Can I stay at your place for a while?" You faced him. Examining your face first, he sensed that something's definitely wrong. So he just nodded and hailed for a cab.

_____

"Wait for me here, I'll just get some water." You just nodded and hummed in response. You just fiddled with your fingers as you recall the happenings a while ago. Your trust had shattered again, making you feel devastated. Ms. Jang sacrificed you? Maybe Minho was right, you're just a worthless slut. You were never loved by anyone because you're just one of those existing trash here on earth. No one dared to love you, words are just words. People who say that they love you were never real. They meant nothing. People loathed sluts like you. You are a failure, a total failure. Thinking those thoughts, you didn't notice the tears that are now falling from your eyes, eyeliner mixing with your tears making it smudged on your face.

"Y/N! Shit! Why are you crying?" Chan immediately placed the glasses of water to the coffee table and sit beside you. Feeling his presence beside you, you quickly grabbed the hem of his shirt asking him for a hug which he immediately gave you. Chan shushed you, swaying your bodies side to side as he let you cry your heart out. You felt him kissed the top of your head and caressed it after, making you calm.

"What happened back there at the bar?" Chan asked when you finally calmed down. Grabbing the tissue box and wiped your face gently, also removing the smudges of eyeliner on your eyes.

"Ms. Jang just sold me to our biggest client. I... I trusted her, Chan. I thought that she'll take care of me. I just can't believe she betrayed me for a big amount of money." You told him what happened at the bar. Chan stayed silent before attempted to speak.

"What are you going to do now?" Chan asked you. Tucking in stray hair at the back of your ear.

"I'll stop working there. I want to change, Chan. I can't be stuck there forever. I need to improve myself." You said, tears slowly falling to your cheeks again. Thinking how will you start to change your life for the better. You're afraid, you're afraid of the changes. But you wanted this. And you know Chan will always be there for you. Chan smiled at you dearly. Hearing it from you makes his heart clenched. He never judged you because of your way of living. But he's glad that you wanted to change your life for the better. And he's willing to help you and guide you.

"Sssh... Don't cry, princess. I'll stay with you. You know that, right? You know you can rely on me." He said and you nodded at him.

"Thank you, Chan. For not judging me, for always taking care of me, for everything that you did for me. Thank you for coming into my life. You're my angel, Chan." You said and smiled at him. Hearing those words from you, his happiness jolted up. He's also beyond thankful to you coming into his life. And he'll never stop taking care of you, never stop protecting you, and will never stop giving you the love that you deserved.

Chan held your cheeks, which you leaned in. He slowly lowered his head, and kissed you. Your eyes opened out of shock, but quickly melted in as soon you felt his soft lips on yours. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly breaks the kiss. You opened your eyes, looking at his face mirroring regret. Also realizing what happened, you stayed silent. You always have a soft spot for Chan. But after he kissed you, it's like there's a place inside your heart you didn't know you that had only for him.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to kiss you. Fuck." Chan said and cursed himself making you chuckle. He looked at you confused as to why you're laughing.

"It's okay. You like me, do you?" You teased him making his eyes widen at you, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"H-how did you know?" He asked, confirming that he does likes you.

You shrugged and shift from your seat. "Dunno, I just guessed." You said. He just facepalmed. Completely cursing himself for being stupid.

"Yes, Honestly speaking, I've been in love with you ever since we met." He continued.

"You caught my eye, and that made worse when we grew close with each other. I just learned each day that you're so special to me. I, I love you, Y/N." Chan said making you shut in silence. Slowly sinking in all the words that he confessed. You're never used to these kinds of things. You don't know the feeling of being truly loved by someone, and hearing this from Chan, made you realize that you've been truly loved for a long time, you've been truly loved by Chan. The moment is too much for you making you cry again. Chan saw you making him baffled and held your face slowly.

"Hey, don't cry. It hurts me." Chan said, wiping your tears away.

"It's just that, I've never been so loved before. I've been a failure, Chan. No one ever loved me the way you do Hearing this all from you, it's too much, making me cry." You said trying to stop from crying.

"Don't say that. you're not a failure, y/n. You're the best thing that happened to me."

"But I don't know how to love again. I mean, I don't know how to start loving again." You said.

"You don't have to, princess, Just let the time. Just let me love you, okay?" Chan said and kissed you once again. The feelings, the atmosphere is too much for you to handle, making you burst out again into tears as you felt the love Chan is giving you. You don't know what did you do to deserve this. But you just let the moment pass by and relish all the love this man was giving you.

You were the one to break the kiss because of a lack of air. Chan leaned his forehead on yours and chuckled. You felt his thumb on the corner of your lips. You looked at his thumb that obtained red stains from your lipstick.

You also looked at his lips, chuckling as you saw the visible lipstick stains, courtesy of you.

"Your lipstick made a mess, princess." He said and chuckled.

"You look sexy, Chan." You blurted out, grabbing a tissue to wipe the smudge of lipstick on his lips.

"Don't say that, princess. I know I am." Chan said, combing your hair gently. You finally wiped the smudges on his lips and yours.

"Promise me you'll never cry again, princess, I just saw how much of a crybaby you are." He said and you just smacked his chest lightly.

"It's because you made me cry." You said and pouted.

"But not because I hurt you. And don't do that, please. It makes me want to kiss you again." Chan said and pointed out your pouty lips.

"Then do it." You teased him making him grunt.

"We all have the time in the world princess, so take a shower first so we can have our dinner and we can do all the kissings later." He said and chuckled making you blush at his playful banter. He just pinched your cheeks and stand up.

"Take a shower, I'll prepare your clothes for now." He said.

"Shower with me?" You asked making him gasped with your suggestion

"W-what? Hell no!" Chan completely refused to make you chuckle

"Why? We're already dating." You teased making him rolled his eyes dramatically.

"That doesn't mean I will accept your offer." He said and slowly pushed you towards the bathroom.

"Okay, okay. Fine." You laughed and stuck your tongue out before closing the door of the bathroom. You just love how to make him blush on the spot, looking so cute.

____

You and Chan's bodies were comfortably slumped on the sofa while watching some movies after you ate dinner. You snuggled on his broad chest, while his arms encircled around you making you warm and comfortable.

"Y/N..." Chan called you softly. You hummed and lift your gaze to him.

"Now that you left the bar, when will you gather your things from Ms. Jang's house? You know I can help you with it." He said and combed your hair.

"I'll gather my courage to face them first. I need to clear my mind. I don't think I can face them for now. And I need to think of a place to live now I already left the bar." You said

"Live here with me?" Chan suggested making you look back at him.

"I might be a burden-"

"No. You'll never be, princess. At least you'll only have to think about looking for a job. Living here with me can lessen your problems. Besides, I love you being here." Chan said and smiled at you. Chan never failed to make you smile even at the smallest things he did and said to you

"Fine. But let me contribute to it. Let me have a share in paying other bills. I am also now living here. And I am consuming the things that you consume." You said.

"You sound like my future wife." He chuckled and pinched your nose.

"Do you want me to be?" You asked and he nodded.

"I'd love to. Mrs. Bang." He said making you both laughed at the thought.

"You're tired, Chan. You need to rest." You said pushing his face against you.

"But I'm serious!" He whined and you just nodded.

"Yes, I know. But that's not our priority for now. I know that you love me, I'll just be here with you." You said and give him a peck on his lips. You were about to move back when he grabbed your face and made you stay still, catching your lips with his. You smiled against his lips and soon gave in with the kiss.

"You're too much of a kisser huh? Maybe you waited for this time to come, did you?" You asked, gasping again for air after the breathtaking kiss

"Maybe yes, maybe no. You guess." He said and hugged you.

"I love you, princess. I love you." Chan said. Wanting to say those words to him, you contemplate as you still not yet completely have the confidence and assurance of those words. You still need to find the real meaning before you finally tell him. Sensing your uneasiness, Chan sighed and cupped your cheeks.

"You don't have to say it now, princess. Just what I've told you a while ago, just let the time, don't worry about me. Just let me love you. I won't force you tell to me." Chan said and smiled. Maybe what he said isn't that hard to do. Because you can see how much he loves you, you'll soon learn how to love him back. You know how much he also deserves the love that he always gives you. You just need to let the time do its thing.

[super-duper-stupor]

Not so bad - George Syszek (Banzai runner) x reader 

"Beck what have you gotten yourself into now." you muttered to yourself, irritation and fear manifesting in the quickness in your walk. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" You scold yourself. 

You approached the Motel room door with a sudden sense of realization of what you were doing. You were gonna be entering an isolated, dark place in the dead of night quite possibly surrounded by dangerous people. Nobody knows you're here and you have no place to run to if things go awry as you're at least an hour away from any help that you know of. This was a horribly thought out plan, to put it bluntly. Yes you can run back to the car but a bullet will always be quicker than you. 

Beck was your longtime friend, since childhood even and you suspected he'd fall into the temptations of this fast lifestyle but you also knew him well enough to know that he'd eventually see this seedy way of life for what it truly was, a snakepit. 

It was a foolish idea of Beck to meet George Syszek, the main cocaine supplier of this racing circle, or anyone for that matter from this reckless "sport" in such an isolated place. From what Beck told you he was the main supplier for not only cocaine but for plenty of racing cars off the black market.

He also told you, however about how the people affiliated with this type of racing was bad news, drugs, sex and apparently even murder was the lifestyle and you quite frankly wanted to keep as far away from it as possible. But you, at least an hour ago, felt it necessary to come and either rescue Beck from this idiotic situation, somehow or at the very least make sure he wasn't in this dreadful ordeal alone. 

You took in a deep breath and did your best to swallow the fear in your chest, tilting your head upward slightly to fake some defiance and rose a closed fist to knock. However your hand barely touched the door before you nearly jumped out of your skin when the door swung open, revealing Beck with an expression of worry and surprise. 

"Y/n" he whispered loudly, looking back at the men inside then quickly back to you. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here, it isn't safe." Panic prevalent in his tone.

"No! I'm here t-" 

"Well well well," a tall man with devilish blue eyes and a devious smirk on his face crept from inside the room and laid a hand on Beck's shoulder, leaning against the doorway, eyeing you up and down.

"Kid, you didn't mention your woman stoppin by." The man said staring seemingly right into your soul with his intense gaze. "And a fine lookin one at that" he said in a slightly softer tone, tilting his head in curiosity of the pretty young woman. 

The man was handsome, that was for certain, just as certain was the sense of danger that hung around him, despite this you couldn't help but notice his high, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, his devilish good looks...

You caught yourself before you completely zoned out and quickly  cleared your throat, taking your eyes off of the man and onto the ground below before looking back up at him, putting on the bravest attitude you could conjure up.

"I'm here to take my friend home, his father's wondering where he is." You said coldly. 

"Is that right?" The man said, removing his hand from Beck's shoulder and stepping off of the front stoop closer to you.

 You gulped nervously as he came nearer to you. 

"Well aren't you sweet" The man smirked then proceeded to look down to your chest. 

"Kids got good taste.." He looked back up into your eyes  "In friends." 

You couldn't help but look away from him, trying your best to hide your bashful expression, as repulsive as this man seemed, he sure was having an effect on you. 

"Y/n, i think it'd be best if you just left-" Beck stepped forward

"Not so fast, kid" The man interrupted whilst placing a hand on Beck's forearm, stopping Beck in his tracks.

You looked up at Beck then back to the man, inwardly, panic was stirring in your stomach, outwardly you kept a stern expression. 

Keeping his strong gaze on you he spoke "Y/n, a pretty name for a pretty girl." A sly grin grazing across his features, removing his hand from Beck's arm.

"Now I'm sure ya won't mind joining us while he and i settle some business, won't ya sweet thing?" 

With that you finally noticed that there was two other men in the room. Lightly peeking around the man's stature you caught a brief glimpse into the room and the two men. 

One of them a tall man with dark brown hair, wearing a gray suit with a black button up underneath and a flashy gold watch, he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed watching the exchange intently, brows slightly furrowed in curiosity. Also there, is a shorter man with slicked back blonde hair, blue suit with the buttons done up with a white button up underneath, he was leaning back on a small dresser drawer that was right across from the door. His attention also on the interaction, only he had a slight smirk playing on his lips. 

Before long the man in front of you moved right into your line of sight, obscuring your view of the room "Don't mind them, sweet thing. I'll be sure they won't hurt ya." 

"Syszek, just let her leave, please" Beck urged the man.

Before you can make an argument for Beck to leave with you, Syszek spoke again, taking his eyes off of you and onto your friend, a trace of amusement in his expression.

"Now now, I'm sure she'd like to see how we settle our business." 

Syszek looked at you with a grin "Whaddya say, kitten?" He said softly, looking your body up and down, taking in your form with a hungry expression as he took a step closer towards you, you took a step back.

"Ya don't need to worry with me, you'll be in really good hands" He purred. 

"Please-" you practically whispered, every bit of confidence you've had before, fake or not was gone. 

"Dammit Syszek, leave her out of this." Beck stepped in front of Syszek, acting as a barrier between him and you. Syszek's grin fades into a look of contempt. 

"She has nothing to do with anything-" 

"She does now. If the girl wants to be a hero then she's gotta pay the price for her bravery." 

The man then violently shoved Beck aside, knocking him to the ground before grabbing y/n. You fought, clawed and kicked with every bit of energy you had but he was still able to get a grip around your torso and one of your arms and drag you inside the room, you yelled and screamed, that was until he moved his hand from your arm to over your lips, stifling your screams. The man was strong, no matter how much you'd kick and drop your full weight downward, he was still able to drag your dead weight into the room.

Whilst you put up your fight with Syszek, the two men inside had come out and managed to restrain Beck and drag him inside as well.

You were thrown down onto the floor with a loud thud that was sure to leave you bruised. 

You grunted as you hit the solid carpeted floor, ignoring the throbbing pain in your hip and shoulder, you rolled over onto your back and with a wince you sat up, staring incredulously at Syszek as he clicked the doorlock and fastened the latch closed. 

The yells and insults from Beck towards Syszek and the men were all you could hear.

With fear and shock coursing through you, you looked up towards the bathroom sink area to find Beck being restrained by his arms by the pair of Syszek's goons. 

"Fuck you Syszek!"  Beck was yelling and hurling swears left and right. Like you, he was putting up quite a fight to break free of his captures but to no avail. 

Syszek sauntered over to the boy, bringing a hand up to Beck's jaw before gripping it tightly, making Beck grunt in pain.

"If you don't keep it down then I'm just gonna have to shush you myself, aren't I?"." Syszek sneered.

Then to your's as well as Beck's horror, Syszek reached inside of his jacket and pulled out a gun, Beck practically froze in place, eyes widening and breath hitching in his throat. Bringing the edge of the barrel up to the frightened boy's chin, a sinister smirk graced Syszek's features.

"That's a boy. Now, when we put our trust in a client we expect that trust in return and part of that trust is that the client don't run their mouth!" the man exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"How many people have ya told about this exchange?" Syszek demanded, pushing the barrel into Beck's cheek, making the boy grimace. Syszek's grip on his jaw still firm, he held his head in place, forcing Beck to face him.

"No-nobody just her! I told her, yeah but all i said was that i had an important meeting, that's all! I don't know how she found this place, i swear! She's not a threat, George please" Beck pleaded.

"Well isn't that sweet, what with you protecting her and all" Syszek said in a condescending tone. 

"It's true, she's not gonna rat you out, i promise." 

"It's not that i don't trust her, it's that I don't trust the both of ya." Syszek loosened his grip on Beck's jaw with a light shove and lowered his gun.

"The fact ya ran your mouth at all has landed you into some deep shit, kid. Now you gotta pay the price." At that Syszek gave a brutal gut punch to Beck, Beck keeled over, coughing and gasping for air before the man almost immediately brought Beck to stand straight again with a forceful tug of his hair making Beck groan in pain.

"Take this as a lesson." The man remarked coldly, without releasing the boy, Syszek turned his sights toward you.

As this was happening, you were watching it all from the floor in sheer terror, yelping in horror when he struck Beck, afraid to say or do anything knowing this lunatic had a gun and would most likely blow either of you or Beck's brains out, no problem. Not to mention the two men that most were likely armed as well.

Eyeing you intently as if contemplating. Syszek's gaze made you look away towards the floor, heart pounding profusely. You shut your eyes and hoped what ever was in store for you wasn't as bad as it could be.

Syszek took another glance towards Beck.

"I'll let these gentlemen deal with you someplace else, I can take care of your little friend, here." Syszek remarked, giving a menacing grin before releasing Beck's hair and waving his hand to the men to take him out of there.

"You son of a bitch! Don't you fucking touch her or I'll kill you!" Beck was shouting, pain quickly subsiding and vicious anger taking its place as he was drug towards the door. However he was cut off by another demand from Syszek to his goons.

"And shut him the hell up!" 

At that the man in the gray suit gave Beck a savage blow square on his jaw, knocking Beck out cold. You stifled a cry behind your hand and watched as they drug Beck's limp figure out the door. 

Syszek didn't waste anytime to close the door behind the men. Using his free hand to click the dead bolt lock shut then fastening the latch back on. 

Turning back towards you, he leaned himself against the door letting a lazy grin grace his features "Now with that out of the way, we can get to know each other a little better." 

As terrified as you were, you couldn't help the faint blush that covered your cheeks and your heart to skip a beat despite how clearly sadistic this man was. Which is why you shifted your gaze from Syszek to the floor beside you once more, crossing your arms over your chest and hugging yourself, inwardly cursing yourself for feeling such a way. He eyed you like a hungry lion stalking a wounded gazelle, you were his prey and he savored that fact.

Syszek raised himself from the door, swiping the curtain as closed as it could go and made his way over, never taking his intense gaze off of you. Stopping just in front of you, eyeing you intently, no doubt admiring your helpless form below him. 

"Look at me." He says softly but maintaining his commanding tone. 

It took every ounce of willpower but you did as the man said and slowly brought your eyes from the carpet to the man in front of you.

You took in the sight of his stature above you, taking your time to let your sights linger over his body before meeting his gaze. 

"That's a good girl." Your heart leapt into your throat at those words. 

Bringing the tip of the gun to your chin your breath hitched in your throat and you suppressed a frightened whimper

"C'mon, where's that hellcat I met outside? Not so confident now are we?" He smiled.

Leaning down and snaking a hand behind your neck, with the barrel of the gun still pressed to your chin, Syszek ushers you to stand with a slight upward wave of the gun. 

You do so, the pain in your hip making you cringe, your eyes close momentarily before setting your gaze on his again once your standing. 

"Syszek, please-" 

"If you had any brains honey, you'd keep your mouth shut." He taps your jaw lightly with the gun. "I have to give it to the kid, though. He picked one loyal woman." He says releasing you from the grip on your neck and lowers his gun.

"He'll be alright, don't you worry about him. As for you, I'll take real good care of ya." 

                          end of part 1.

@thehighsign♥️

[spectraspecs-writes]

Tatooine - Chapter 108

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 107. Chapter 109.

@averruncusho @ceruleanrainblues @chubbsmomma @strangepostmiracle thank you for reading, you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for support, you get a tag.

——–

I find myself waking up early, far earlier than I meant. But then I’m amazed I got to sleep at all, or even stayed asleep. The nightmares were awful, but I couldn’t wake up. I felt like I was being suffocated by that mask but I couldn’t pull it off. Revan’s mask. My mask. No. No. Revan’s mask. Because I’m not Revan, I don’t know what she knows, she doesn’t know what I know. Or knew - what she knew. I’m a scout. Revan was a killer. A murder. A Sith Lord. I’m not Revan. I’m not.

T3 stayed with me the whole night after Carth changed our course. And the engine isn’t making any noise, so I guess we’re here. Tatooine.

And it’s morning. I suppose I should go check, shouldn’t I?

The cockpit is empty. Carth’s not there. He’s not in the main hold, either. And I don’t sense him in the port side quarters. I guess he left. Not that I blame him.

I’ve got to get out of here. But not like this. Not these robes. This isn’t me. I’m not a Jedi, I’m a scout. And out there is a world I haven't explored. All I looked for was the Star Map. All I cared about was the Star Map. But this is not a dead world. Not even a desert is dead. Where there is life, there is water, and where there is water, there is life. That’s one of the first things you learn as a scout.

But did I even learn it? If I’m Revan, then…

No. No.

A Jedi robe does not a good scouting outfit make. The copious lack of pockets alone makes it a poor choice. I tie up my hair so it’s off my neck, and pull out a soft white tunic. And my vest. I’m torn between shorts for the heat and pants to fight the sand, but I eventually settle on a loose pair of pants and sturdy boots. I keep only a single lightsaber in my pack, opting for my swords instead. I’m not a Jedi. I'm a scout. A lightsaber is a weapon. A sword is a tool, far more versatile in use. I have my sunglasses. Now all I need is my droid. T3 doesn’t need much prompting. Like he doesn’t want to leave my side.

Much as I hate it, Czerka is the only game in town. They’re the only ones sending people into the desert. I could go alone, but that’s not a good idea. The clients always have insurance if something happens - it’s in your contract. They pay for whatever you find, even if all you find is pain. You never go out alone. I need to be myself, even if that means taking one job with Czerka.

This is good. I missed this. Missed my vest. Missed myself. But it isn’t myself, is it? Who the hell even am I? I remember being a Republic scout, I remember turning over rocks, discovering insects I’d never seen before. Watching eggs hatch and documenting what I saw. Seeing lemurs hang from trees by prehensile tails. Leaves no one had ever seen, trees no one had ever seen! I remember finding a hot springs on Utapau! Spending the nights on the rocks while we analyzed water quality, microbial landscapes, geological makeup, or just plain swimming! Are those memories even real? Do those insects even exist? Those eggs, those lemurs, those leaves, those trees? Is there a hot springs on Utapau? Where did the data come from? What was real?

But I know. Whether any of that was real or not, anything I see today, anything I find today will be real. Anyone I meet today will be real. My memories here will be real. Maybe I wasn’t a scout before. But I will be today.

I step into the Czerka office - the same representative is there from the last time. “Greetings from the offices of Czerka Corporation.” The disgust I feel is thankfully different than the disgust I’ve been feeling for myself. “How can I help you?”

I pull up my Republic file, my fake scouting record. Doesn’t feel fake. “I’m a scout,” I say, “with a specialty in ecology and droid repair. Do you have any expeditions going out?”

She hums a bit, reading over my record. “According to this, the Republic holds your contract. Czerka corporation has no interest in any legal disputes with the Republic.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” I assure her, “The Republic violated my contract, and the mission I was on came to an abrupt end when the Sith destroyed the ship I was on.

She hums again. “I suppose that is a risk when your employer is at war.” Tell me about it. “For long-term employment, however, you would have to fill out an application with Czerka headquarters. Business hours only, please.”

“I’m not looking for long-term contract negotiation,” I say, “This is just for a one-off freelance gig.”

“I don’t think our teams would have much use for an ecologist,” she says, looking back at my file, “but I am interested in your technical skills.” Better than nothing, I guess. “Our mining teams have had difficulty keeping the machinery functioning. As I’m sure you know, sand has a tendency to interfere with machinery. How soon would you be able to start?”

“I’m willing to head out now,” I say, “What’s the pay rate?”

“When you return at the end of the day, you will receive 150 credits.” She transfers a file to my datapad. “This is a standard contract. It stipulates that Czerka corporation is not liable for any harm sustained on the Dunes. Any disputes you may have with Czerka Corporation will be settled through binding arbitration. When you return to this office you will receive 150 credits in exchange for your work.” I don’t expect any problems, nothing I can’t deal with. And despite what she says, you can’t absolve yourself of all liability when you send out scouting teams. It’s been galactic law for the past two hundred years or so and there are scouting organizations who take it very seriously. Czerka tries to skirt the law but it never lasts. Scouts who know what they’re doing hold them to it, or threaten to call in the authorities. And Czerka tries to keep all that on the down-low, paying off officials, making donations, counting on the ignorance of the people signing the contracts. If I was doing anything other than a one-off gig… well, actually, you should just shoot me if this was anything other than a one-off gig. But anyway, if it were anything but that, I’d get into it myself. No one is expendable and they can’t pretend to be ignorant of the hell they’d catch if they tried to say otherwise. Even so, I sign the contract but I’m not even sure it’s legally binding. Rena Visz doesn’t exist. I’d have to sign Revan’s name but I don’t know what it is.

Nope. Nope. Nope, I don’t want to think about that.

“Excellent,” she says as I transfer the signed contract back, “There's a speeder outside - input your datapad and it’ll direct you to a set of coordinates. You’ll meet one of our mining teams there.”

And that’s that. I load T3 into the pilot’s side of the speeder and input my datapad, like she said, and off we go, onto the Dune Sea. The speeder takes us past the Czerka marker points, past even the Star Map. I can feel it calling out to me as we pass it. And it feels different, so different, from how it felt… oh God, it was barely last week. It felt like such a long time, so much has happened. I met Jolee, Bastila and Canderous got together, Kashyyyk was liberated, Carth’s son, Carth… Carth! That happened! That happened two days ago! And now… he probably hates me now. And I can’t say I blame him. If T3 wasn’t driving, I would have stopped. Because its call is so loud, so strong. And I can’t tell if it’s calling for Rena or Revan. But T3 drives on, and with distance the call fades. It doesn’t go away but it fades.

The speeder pulls up to a cave and slows to a stop. The sand is different out here. Still sand, of course, and a very fine sand, at that, but it’s dirty,. Soot and smoke from the machines. Polluted. To think what this sand could have given with care. Something like this doesn’t happen naturally. There’s nothing I could do about the state of this world now. As if anyone would listen to me if I could. Not even the Sand People, I think - they would surely feel the same way, but I can never know the same as they do. They should be the ones to rehabilitate the planet. I am only another outsider with an opinion. And besides, this is a stable state now, any massive changes, if not done slowly and carefully, could just as easily land the world in a worse state as it could a better one. And it’s not my place.

I have to assume it’s the site foreman who comes up to me. I get T3 out of the speeder. “You the Czerka droid tech?” he asks.

“Droid tech, yes, Czerka, no, but suffice it to say I’m here to help,” I say.

He chuckles. “You hate the bastards, too, huh?” he asks rhetorically, and I shrug and nod. “I don’t know why we're still out here, the ore’s no good, and the machines hardly work with all the sand. You’ve got your work cut out for you with fixing.”

“I’m hoping for it,” I say, “in fact, I’ve got something that should make everything easier.”

“What? You’ve got a way to teleport us off this rock?”

“I wish,” I say. I set my pack down on the speeder and open it. I’ve got an old shirt in here. “The machines stop working because sand gets into the vents and clogs with the gears and the works. Close off the vents and the machine overheats, but leave them open and the sand gets in and they’re useless.” There’s the shirt. “So what you need is a way to keep the sand out and prevent overheating. And we’re gonna do it the same way the animals do.”

“But that fabric will hold the heat in,” he objects.

I scoff. “Yeah,” I say sarcastically, “because I’m stupid.” I indicate T3. “Check out his vents - does he look like he’s overheating?”

He stoops to look. Sees the fabric under the vents, and around the joints. “I don’t believe this.”

“Then watch me. Got a machine down?”

He indicated a machine near the mouth of the cave. “Just pulled it out a little while ago. Started sputtering and smoking. We’re down to just one - if that one craps out, we’re stuck mining by hand.”

Easy enough. “T3, help me get this open.” T3 has a laser cutter, and he carefully lasers off the seal on the large access panel. I can pop it open with my panel tool once the seal’s off. Tool, panel, open - yep, the wires are loaded with sand. I shut the vents off, because the first step is to get the sand out, and I don’t want it getting to other parts of the machinery. Too big to tip over and dump out, so I get in and sweep.

This is a good feeling. I can do something with this, and the machine won’t care who I am or what I’ve done. Won’t care that I had no idea who I was when I woke up this morning and I still don’t. Won’t care that I can’t help but hate myself for atrocities I don’t even remember committing. Won’t care that I have two people in my head, two sets of memories even if I can’t access one set, and no way to reconcile them. Because I can fix this. And even better? Revan can’t take this away from me. Because I invented sand shields, not Revan.

Okay. Sand’s all out. I tear the fabric to a more reasonable size, popping the panel closed with my foot and T3 welds it shut again. The vent should be… there we go. Doing this outside could prove a little tricky, more sand could get in while I’m putting the cover on. Quick work is needed. I pull my vest off and use it to cover the majority of the vent, except for the bolts, which I set to work getting off. Once the bolts are off, I quickly whisk the vent cover off and put the fabric in its place. Then I put the cover back on, and replace the bolts. “That should be good for most of the time. It might need replacing after a sandstorm, but as you could see it wasn’t that difficult to do,” I say to the foreman, “And this is more basic that what T3 has, but like I said. It gets the job done.”

Still skeptical, the foreman turns the machine on. With a healthy whir it comes to life. He comes around to the vent and holds his hand in front of it. Waiting. A few seconds later, he looks at me, then back, then me, then back again. “I can feel air coming out,” he says simply, surprised, “This… but it’s so simple! But it works!” He turns the machine back off. “This could solve half our problems. This is great. Did you come up with this?”

Yes, as a matter of fact, I… wait.

I… I remember.

No.

“The sandstorms aren’t the worst of it, Master Jedi.” Someone said that. A long time ago. “It’s the sand. It chokes out the machinery. Our engineers tell us there’s nothing they can do to stop it, but it’s leaving us like sitting ducks out there.”

“And the Mandalorians don’t have the same problems?” That’s me. That’s my voice. But… not me. No.

“Not that we’ve seen, though damned if we know why.”

“Maybe they’re using a different power source,” Hanna said. Who’s Hanna? She was my best friend, but who was she? I don’t know. I don’t know.

But a thought struck me. I don't know why or how. But it came to me. Revan. Me. Revan. She pulled her robe off and tore it. “The insides of the machines are sealed up tight, with no way in or out. Except the vents.” She pulled out her lightsaber. Green one. Held it on the metal, where it met the fabric. The metal melted and fused with the fabric, and when she removed her lightsaber it cooled and the fabric stayed. Sand shields. The very first sand shields. And she must have refined the process… because that looks exactly the same as the sand shields on Hk-47. Revan built HK. I built HK.

“No,” I finally say, “I didn’t.” Because she took it from me. Revan took this from me. That was my accomplishment, something that I did, something I achieved and she took it from me. My stomach turns. This is going to be the rest of my life - every single thing I’ve ever done, every good thing that’s ever happened to me, poisoned by Revan. I’ve done nothing. Revan has. Nothing good ever happened to me. It happened to Revan. Carth was the only good thing and Revan spoiled that too. I can’t have anything. Revan will only take it away.

I don't feel so good.

I fall to my knees and retch into the sand. I can’t stop it. Everything hurts. Everything burns. “Get some water!” the foreman shouts, “She’s got sun sickness!”

“It’s not sun sickness,” I manage to say, forcing the words out.

“I’m not willing to take that chance,” he says, “I’ve lost more than a few miners to sun sickness, I’m not about to risk another.”

“I’ll be fine,” I repeat, “It’s not sun sickness, I’m positive.”

“Oh, yeah, doctor?” he says sarcastically, “Then what else could it be?”

Well… there really is no way to tell a perfect stranger you used to be a Sith Lord and it’s destroying your life. So I shake my head a bit. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He doesn’t believe me. He hands me some water. “Drink this slowly. And let’s get you back to Anchorhead.”

“You send all your miners back to Anchorhead when this happens?”

“You’re not one of my miners. You’re from the company, and in their eyes you matter more than these miners.” T3 gets loaded into the speeder first, then the foreman helps me in. Makes me feel even more like shit now - not only did Revan take sand shields away from me, she’s taking away what could have been a good day’s work. I wasn't even out here for an hour!

I try my hardest not to cry. No one would get it anyway, and I’d just come off as a pitiful little girl. Because it turns out none of my memories of dealing with that are real and I have no idea how Revan would have dealt with that. Because it turns out that at heart I’m a terrible person even though I don’t want to be.

“I know it doesn't seem like it,” the foreman says, “but you did a lot of good today. Those machines are a lifesaver for my miners. If even just one of them keeps working because of this, you’ve saved us a lot of pain.”

Maybe so. But none of that makes up for all the pain Revan caused. There is a massive debt of blood owed that Revan accrued, that I could hardly begin to pay back. I've already, personally, accrued a debt, but it was easy to justify - I was trying to stop Malak, stop the war, and in doing so would save countless lives. But Revan started the war. Revan is responsible for the deaths of billions, Republic and Sith. Not even counting the Mandalorians from the last war! Saving the lives and limbs of a handful of miners doesn’t begin to make up for that.

When we get back to Anchorhead, the foreman tells me to wait in the speeder, so I do. He’s gone for maybe five minutes before he comes back. “You’ll find 250 credits transferred to you,” he says, “She wasn’t happy about it, but you saved the company way more than that, so I persuaded her to increase your cut.” He gets T3 out of the speeder while I pull myself out. “I’ll make sure the rest of our machines get shielding under the vents. And thanks again, really.” And he speeds away, back to the mine.

I don’t want to go back to the Hawk. I don’t want to go to Manaan. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t. Maybe I can get passage on a freighter out of here. Actually join the Republic scouting corps. Or, hell, maybe the Sith. Mandalorian. Aratech. Free-lance - just to actually do something. To feel something other than hatred and anger. Because there’s no way I could hope to make up for all the shit I’ve done that I don’t even remember. Not by finding the Star Map, not by ending the war, nothing. And staying and doing all that only increases the chance that I’ll hurt the people I care about. The only way to avoid that is to just… go. Run away. Take T3 and just go.

I find myself at the cantina. That feels about right. So I go in. “Hey!” the bartender shouts to me, "You can’t bring that droid in here. It’ll have to wait outside.”

Oh, hell, no. I’m not leaving him. And I think I could get away with a little intimidation. I look at a bottle resting on the bar. Reach out with the Force and lift it high above his head. “How about now?”

He looks from the bottle, to me, to T3, and back to the bottle. Decides it’s not worth it to argue. “Just don’t cause any trouble.” I gently set the bottle back down and take a seat.

[xparadisexlostx]

So this is a little drabble in my verse with @stcriestcld. We never did really talk too much about how Beck got to SHIELD. There’s some dialogue in here I am not in love with because I tried to cut some length down. I might go back in an tweak it.

For some back story Beck works with a group who helped save her from her brother/mother (verse dependent). They masquerade as nuns under the name The Sisters of  Holy St. Marciana of Mauretania but another common name is The Sisters of Emily, which pertains to their founder as well as some of their coded language. They operate out of several “churches” as well as a convent that is a front for their headquarters. This is just a glimpse into how Beck interacts with them that I thought was fun to write out. Plus it helps me get my mind around how Beck came to work for SHIELD despite zero qualifiers. 

Exchanging favors for favors was always messy. Beck had known that from the time she was small. Witch’s deals weren’t unheard of in the magical community, but it would be a stretch to call them common. Her people didn’t tend to enjoy being held to anything--not laws or contracts--but Beck had always found that in a tight spot a clever witch could twist her words and strike a deal that wouldn’t turn around to bite her in the ass. In hindsight she should have realized that her silver tongue was bound to turn to lead at least once or twice.

When she’d picked up the drop she figured it would be the same as any other job: meet the client, make a plan, execute, and run. She’d done it dozens of times. Almost all of them, apart from the occasional retrieval of a magical artifact, were domestic violence cases. The wife of some asshole cop that no one was ever going to hold accountable for his violence, the queer kid being beaten down by their devout and religious parents, the foster teen tired of being abused in the home that was supposed to provide them refuge. The Sisters, and Beck in particular, were very good at helping people who wanted to disappear do just that. Beck agreed not because of a contract or any kind of payment, but because she’d been those kids. The difficult child with the saintly, blameless parent. That’s what most people had seen… but only because they didn’t want to see the truth. If she could help anyone trapped like she had been, she was happy to do it. After all, if it weren’t for the Sisters, her mother would have likely killed her years ago.

Beck pulled open the enormous oak door to the convent chapel and entered silently. Wood pews without cushions lined the barren stone walls up to the front, where people knelt with clasped hands murmuring softly. Wayward souls seeking the kind of religious guidance that places like this were meant to offer. They didn’t know---couldn’t know---what this place actually was.

She stepped out of the way as a small party of nuns walked two-by-two down the aisle in perfect sync. They positioned themselves in front of the wooden altar, fanning out so that there were six on either side of the entrance to the dias. A clock chimed in the distance, low and solemn, the bell sounding three times in total before beginning to echo off into the early night air. By the time the ringing had left her ears, the room was in total silence, and without looking at one another, the nuns began a slow, harmonious chorus in a language Beck didn’t understand.

Once the song began, she knew she was free to wander back into the aisle. She kept her head down, her hands clasped in front of her, and cautiously approached the left side of the chapel where dozens of flickering candles lined the wall. There the abbess stood, rosary wrapped around her aged fingers as they pressed together in prayer. Her eyes were closed, and Beck didn’t want to startle her. The witch lit a candle, mimicked the sign of the cross she saw them make a thousand times, and knelt at the altar beside the feet of the abbess in waiting.

It felt like she knelt there for an hour, struggling to sit still and quiet. Finally the singing stopped, and a gentle hand reached down and squeezed her shoulder.

“What can I do for you, child?” The abbess asked, and even in the silence, Beck scarcely heard her.

“Revered mother, I have come in search of a miracle.” She didn’t look up. Staring into the flames, she summoned tears to her eyes. 

The abbess hummed. “What would you ask of our Blessed Mother?”

Beck didn’t particularly enjoy the song and dance, but she knew the script well. “God’s eyes are so much greater than my own. My sister has gone missing, but I know none of us can stray from the Lord’s gaze. Can he see her? Can he see my sister, Emily?”

The hand on her shoulder squeezed, and raised her head to look into the knowing grey eyes of the abbess.

“Dear child, you must be so tired. Come, we will pray together.” 

Beck accepted the hand up and let the woman lead her out into the halls. There was a gate that separated the private quarters from the public area of the abbey, and she unlocked it with a skeleton key that looked older than the abbess herself. The metal groaned as the gate swung open, and Beck followed closely behind as they crossed the threshold and into the old stone corridors. They were dark, only lit by an occasional lantern hung from an iron hook.

When they came to a room near the end of the hall, the abbess opened the door and led her inside. 

Beck waited until the door shut behind them to speak. “Out of all the people to contact me, I didn’t think it’d be you.”

She could hear the older woman shuffle through the darkness fearlessly, and then the sound of a match being struck, before a vibrant flicker of firelight came to life at the end of the little wooden stick. Abbess Fina transferred the flame to a candle and took a seat at a little wooden table. She unraveled her rosary and pulled off a bead, which she rolled between her fingers until it began to glow. It clicked quietly against the wood of the table, and streams of light shot up into the air, creating a picture.

“New target?” Beck tried not to be irritated by how cagy Fina was being and how long this whole thing was taking. It was why she rarely took jobs directly from headquarters. 

The man in the shimmering picture was pale. His eyes were brown, similar in shade to his hair, from what she could tell, which appeared to have been disappearing for some time. His expression was deathly serious, and it looked like he was holding something. A file, maybe? She couldn’t be sure with the distortion. 

“Your new boss.” Abbess Fina said. She saw the way the younger witch’s jaw clenched and the dark shadow that passed through those blue eyes. “Eleven years ago my people brought you here to this abbey. We hid you for months while you recovered, and when we gave you the choice to run off into the darkness or stay in contact and help us on our mission, do you remember what you did?”

Beck pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I asked you to make a deal with me.”

“I tried to tell you no. Said I didn’t want to extort favors from you in the state you were in.”

“And I told you that you saved me, and if it ever came down to it I would return that favor… at any cost.” Beck didn’t like where this was going.

“Beck, I’m in trouble. We all are. Ever since New York was attacked the humans have been foaming at the bit, looking to punish anything or anyone they don’t understand because they never got to string up the idiot responsible for the whole mess.” Fina said. She looked older than Beck remembered, which was odd for a witch. Eleven years meant nothing to a skilled practitioner like Fina… but stress could kill anything, she supposed.

Beck fished in her pocket for her packet of cigarettes, her noise snarled up a little as she spoke. “Asgardians have been fucking things up since the vikings. Can I smoke in here?” 

A wave of the abbess’ hand and the little window over the barren cot on the far wall flew open. Beck extended the box to Fina first, and the old woman gladly took one and lit it off the candle on the table. Beck followed suit, looking back at the image the bead was still reflecting. 

“So what is this, exactly? And how do I fit into it?”

“The mortals have made up this---organization. They call it SHIELD. It---keeps track of us and-”

“No.” Beck said, her voice taking on an immediate edge.

“Listen to-”

“No.”

“Beck-”

“No!” She wasn’t one to yell, but the venom in that word made it echo around the room. Beck lowered her voice to a whisper again. “Are you out of your mind?! Out of all the witches on Earth you think it’s a good idea to feed me to these fucking wolves? Have you forgotten that my brother is still out there, half mad off sacrificial blood magic and looking for me? You saved me from him, and now you’re going to sell me out to a bunch of suits that will dig into my ugly past. He’ll find out. He’ll kill whoever he needs to, and he will drag me back to Cali and throw me in a hole so deep I’ll never get out.”

“Beck! Listen to me!” The abbess grabbed her hand and pressed it to the table. Her grey eyes blazed with intensity as they locked with Beck’s. “That is not what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

“SHIELD’s director has made contact with a few of our agents. I wouldn’t call him pleasant to talk to, but he says he doesn’t want any trouble, and for the most part I believe him. He’s well aware that the---sensitivity of the mortals could result in another witch trials and if that happens it won’t just be you that has to fear the wrath of your brother. Or your ex, for that matter.”

Beck put her head in her hands and groaned. It was true. Fenris and Harper both wouldn’t hesitate to go to war with the humans if they started killing witches. The other clans would have no choice but to get involved. It would be a bloodbath---and one she doubted the mortals would win. Witches didn’t fight in mobs of mindless hordes, converging on a single city, fighting out in the open. Cities would burn with no indication of who started the fire. Crops would shrivel no matter how well tended. Assassins would carefully pick off anyone that mattered. Chaos would be carefully cultivated, and when people were at their weakest, then armies would rise. Their only hope would be Asgard stepping in, but they’d be breaching a treaty thousands of years old with the witches. Even if they were willing to do so, it’d likely be too late.

She had a very limited love for mortals, but she loathed war.

“So what does your new friend suggest to stop this impending chaos?”

“Our visions aren’t unaligned, Beck. Director Fury has agreed that it’s best the magical world stay in the shadows where it is. At first he asked us to submit all our agents to this index he has, but I refused. Instead, as a gesture of good faith, I agreed to send him a handful of agents to aid SHIELD in its different departments. No--wait. Before you get upset.” The abbess squeezed her hand, and Beck looked back at her. Concern was writing lines into her tired face. “I made my own witch’s deal. With him. That I would send him aid, send him some of my best people, but with my own files. The deal forbids him from digging any further. Even if he suspects the information on them is nothing but lies. In return for your help, SHIELD will pay you and help protect your identity as best they can. Just like with any other agent. I’m just asking for a couple of jobs, Beck. After that, consider our deal fulfilled. We’ll extract you, and you’ll be free to do as you please.”

“But they’ll have my face.” She said, still not convinced she wasn’t marching off to an early grave. 

“They can’t be any harder to shake than Fenris. And the deal explicitly states they aren’t allowed to track you or listen to you without consent. Please… I don’t have a lot of people I’d trust to be smart enough to swim with these sharks and walk out whole.”

“I want Boda to look at the file.”

Fina nodded. “Of course.”

This wasn’t going to end well for her. But she reached out her hand anyway, and Fina smiled as she shook it.

“Right then. So who is this guy?”

“His name is Harry Pearce. He’s in charge of the anti-terrorism department based out of London, England. He’s expecting you there in seventy-two hours.”

[twiistedgalaxies]

Genesis: Chapter 7: Clandestine Meeting

How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves.

Or, alternatively:

The origins of All for One and One for All.

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

        The rest of the day had gone on agonizingly slow, with Hisashi constantly glancing towards the clock and mentally recounting contingency plans. He sat on his hard bed, chewing on his lower lip as his eyes darted around the sleeping quarters. Several hours had been spent observing the staff’s shifts. A glance towards his burner phone. He only had just enough time to get to the rendezvous point, it was now or never. The floor creaked as Mr. Stewart crossed the room’s threshold and left. Hisashi sprung into action, throwing on his clothes at a pace that would impress what remained of the firefighting force in this country. Hastily, he patted down his pockets, making sure that he had all of his things. Burner phone? Check. Bobby pins? Of course. Knife? A familiar companion in his coat pocket. Placing his bag and some dirty laundry under his covers, he made it look like, at least at a distance in the dark, that he was still asleep in his bed. He was about to start to climb through one of the large windows in the back of the room when he heard the door open. Quickly, he dropped to the floor and slid under one of the beds, heart in his throat. Footsteps

        “There they are!” he heard Mr. Stewart softly proclaim. Out of the corner of his eye, a rotund hand picked up a shiny object from the grimey wooden floor. A jingling of keys. After what felt like ages the door finally clicked shut again. Hisashi breathed a sigh of relief.

        He resumed his escape through the back window, and landed in thorny rose bushes with a wince and a silent prayer that they wouldn’t tear one of his only jackets. Before stepping out, he cautiously scanned the grassy yard. There was a chain link fence in the back, something he’d frequently climbed throughout the week. He ducked his head down and held his breath. The janitor walked across his field of view, flashlight in hand. Absently, Hisashi realized he would need to close the window behind him, otherwise he might arouse some suspicion. The janitor, a sickly sallow man, rounded the corner. Hisashi shut the window as quietly as he could, then he shot forward, quickly tossing his coat and scrambling up the fence. Time was of the essence after all. Oxford shoes, significantly more worn than they were a week prior, landed on the pavement with a loud thud. Grabbing his coat, he cringed at the racket he was making. The flashlight pivoted towards him. He lunged towards the safety of the dark alleyways, determined to put as much distance between himself and possible capture as possible. It seemed he’d evaded pursuit, and ended up behind a McDonald’s, hands on his knees and gasping for air. Perhaps he had overreacted. Besides, what would the Janitor have done if he’d been caught? Cane him to death? Doubtful. He only resided in the orphanage for the convenience of food and shelter. They wouldn’t be able to contain him if he was truly determined.

        With a deep breath to compose himself, he set off towards the abandoned warehouse. 

                                                        -@~*^*~@-

        The warehouse was a rickety old thing, next to a junkyard and ramshackle houses. Its broken windows were sunken eye sockets housing spiders and rats. Warm breath pushed out a cloud of fog from Hisashi’s mouth and curled in the air. He appraised the location from a distance. It seemed to have long fallen out of use, an old Costco perhaps. There were likely two exits, in the front and back, and the windows were always an option if need be. He didn’t understand why his clients had insisted upon meeting somewhere so filthy. People in these trying times seemed to lack class.

        There was no point in beating around this bush with this, he’d take the front entrance. If this truly was a trap, they’d soon be well acquainted with the sharp end of his knife. He clutched the metallic thing in his pocket as an odd sort of comfort. Like a child with their favorite stuffed animal. Finally, he set off, and opened the building’s front double doors with a flourish. It would be poor form if he didn’t at least try to make a good first impression after all. He felt the wind pick up behind him, it was wonderfully timed and added more drama to his entrance.

        The warehouse was pitch black. He felt his eyebrows knit together. When he stepped forward he noticed the floor was sticky and made a god awful noise whenever he picked up his feet. Hisashi grimaced. Disgusting. Truly this was Eastern Los Angeles’s finest.

        A light was flicked on, and he squinted at the sudden harsh glare. A lantern sat upon a crate in the center of the vast, otherwise empty room. It illuminated four figures. An Asian girl, around his age, with mousy hair drawn up into puffy pig-tails and baggy clothes obscuring her slouched form. From her mouth dangled a toothpick. A black man in what seemed to be his early twenties, dressed in a bomber jacket and earth coloured jeans. An older looking Hispanic gentleman clad in a dress shirt and slacks, like he had just gotten off of work at a call center. Finally, there was a hulking, pale man who towered above his companions. He had long hair and a beard. His clothes were simple, jeans and a muscle tee, the latter of which showed off a series of ornate tattoos.

        Hisashi’s interest was piqued, this was certainly a vibrant bunch. “So I presume you all have summoned me here for something other than a staring match, yes?” he began.

        The girl scowled, a muscle in her cheek twitching, “You’re the one who wanted to meet us face to face, scumbag.” Ah, so she’s the one he’d spoken to.

        He hummed, the ghost of a smile on his lips, “A reasonable request. Now let’s talk business, who, exactly, am I working with?”

        They all exchanged glances, having a silent argument amongst themselves.

        Finally, the Hispanic man spoke up, “We’re part of a network of Meta-humans, fighting for a just cause. Unfortunately, not much of the country views us this way, so we occasionally have to recruit outside help. I’m Raquel.”

        “Amy,” the brat spoke up. Hisashi had the sudden urge to rip the toothpick out of her mouth and stab her with it. He restrained himself.

        “Michael,” the black man said, his voice a smooth baritone.

        The large man looked awkwardly between everyone else, and then muttered something under his breath. Michael nudged him, a sly smile on his face. The man flushed red, “Bjame.”

        Hisashi felt his head tilt slightly with curiosity, it was an odd name, sure, but why would Bjame feel embarrassed about it?

        “So,” Raquel cleared his throat, “What did Amy tell you about the job we’re giving you?”

        “Something about taking someone out, I didn’t get all of the details, I prefer to learn them in person,” he shrugged. It was far easier to ascertain how much bullshit you were being handed when you could see others’ tics.

        “We need you to kill Isaac Markov, he’s the head of a pharmaceutical company and has a heavy security detail following him around,” Raquel continued. 

        Hisashi frowned, that might be above his pay grade. Sure, if he had the right tools he could probably manage, but going after a well-guarded business executive with a dull pocket knife and force of will? This was going to prove to be a challenge.

        Raquel must have sensed his hesitance, because he said, “Always surrounded by security that is, except for on Christmas. He prefers to spend it with his family in Beverly Hills, his bodyguards only get in the way. We’ll provide you with what we can on loan to help you finish the job.”

        That would make things easier. “What intel do you have? I’m not going in blind,” he replied.

        Michael pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his back pocket, and passed it to Hisashi, “Here’s a map of the place. Amy can hack into their security, it’ll be up to you to sneak in while they’re sleeping that night and execute the target. Honestly? Your best bet will be to enter through their cellar window, but I’m not the boss of you, do what you want.”

        Hisashi looked over the floor plan. The mansion was convoluted and massive. Fucking rich people, who needs six sitting rooms?!

        “How do we know he’ll be able to pull it off? He’s just a kid!” Amy pointed out, fixing Raquel with a glare, it seemed like her face was frozen in that expression at all times.

        “So are you,” Bjame pointed out gently. She let out a huff of indignation.

        “We trust our contact,” Raquel replied simply, “She’s never led us astray before after all, and who else among us is more devoted to our cause?”

        “Fine.” Amy bit out, clearly not happy with the situation.

        “I don’t work for free,” Hisashi casually brought up, “I’ll need some form of compensation.”

        “You can have whatever you find in the mansion, plus any cash we can scrounge up,” Michael replied offhandedly.

        Hisashi tutted, “Now, you all know that I don’t work with cash, it’s too… fragile.”

        Michael raised an eyebrow, “Then what do you want?”

        “I need information. Anything you can dig up on one Hana Shigaraki and her connections with the mafia.”

        “We don’t tangle with the mob,” Bjame said with a frown.

        “Then you need to find someone else to do the job for you, and given that Christmas is in a few days? I bid you good luck,” Hisashi smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets. Amy looked like she was on the verge of lunging towards him to try to beat him senseless.

        Raquel raised his hand in a silent gesture to stop further protest, “We’ll do what we can. Do we have a deal?”

        Hisashi reached out his own hand towards Raquel as if to shake, “Of course.”

        “My colleagues and I will stay in contact,” the man replied, shaking Hisashi’s hand with his own.

        “I look forward to it.”

                                                        -@~*^*~@-

        The journey back was relatively quiet, and a little longer than Hisashi had originally anticipated. He had come across a mugging in progress, and had to quickly change directions to avoid it. The meeting and repeated late night outings had sapped him of any motivation to get involved. It wasn’t his business, and truly? He just wanted to crawl back into his uncomfortable bed and scrounge together whatever sleep (and sanity) he could.

        Hisashi was just about to climb up the chain link fence into the backyard of the orphanage when he froze. Matron Abra was leaning against the building’s wall, the orange ember of the cigarette in her hand illuminating her hawkish face. It seemed she hadn’t spotted him yet. He slinked backwards and slipped into the shadows of the alleyway. Unfortunately, he’d have to wait her out. There was no way he was reenacting Monday night’s meeting with the front room cameras, especially now with the enhanced security.

        Someone approached her, by the looks of the silhouette it was a man. She exhaled a puff of smoke, its wispy tendrils wrapping around her head like a crown. “Detective Shepherd,” she began, voice raspy from nicotine, “What a pleasure it is to see you.”

        He hummed, “I made sure you got your latest stock, now it’s your term to uphold your end of the bargain.”

        The matron took another drag, “Yes, yes, well, you know my specifications,” she paused, glancing towards the detective, scanning his face for something, “and yet you failed to meet them.”

        Shepherd shook his head, “I have a.. feeling about these ones. They’re going to be something special.”

        “Doubtful. The youngest is defected and the eldest too rebellious. If anything, you should be paying me for getting them out of your hands,” she hummed, the shadows on her face grew harsher as her expression soured.

        “But their hair-”

        “We both know that a slightly unusual physical appearance is hardly an indicator of mutations,” she crossed her arms.

        The detective clenched and unclenched his fists, “Look, you either pay me what we agreed upon, or I’m telling the precinct about your little operation.”

        “No need to get hasty,” the matron huffed, and took something out of her night gown’s pocket, “I have your payment right here.” She passed over a wad of cash into the detective’s hands.

        “Thanks,” he grit out.

        “A pleasure doing business with you,” she replied, tapping the ashes from her cigarette onto the grass, voice far too chipper for the exchange they just had. The two went their separate ways, Abra slipped inside the orphanage through a back door (had that always been there?) and the detective walked towards the front entrance.

        Well, Hisashi thought as he watched their retreating forms, we don’t have enough time to unpack all of that. Once he was certain that the coast was clear he climbed over the fence and headed towards the boy’s dorm window. He looked into the room, it was difficult to see if the coast was completely clear, but it seemed that sleeping quarters were empty of staff. He opened the window carefully and slipped inside, closing it behind him. Hisashi chewed on the inside of his mouth as he crept to his bed. Slipping off and stowing away his gear was easy, the thin blanket on his bed was able to obscure what was under the metal bed frame fairly well. The less bulky (and more incriminating) items he slid under the mattress or into his pillowcase. When his pajamas were finally returned to his body he collapsed onto his bed like a dead weight. The full force of his exhaustion and sleep deprivation had hit him like a truck.

        He burrowed himself under the blanket and pulled out his burner phone, using the blanket to obscure the light it radiated.

                                                        Pest

                                                      2:08am

                                                                                         [The meeting went well.]

                                       [What do you know about a man named Isaac Markov?]

[I’m glad to hear it!]

[How much are you paying me?]

                                         [I’ve been doing tasks for you all week. You owe me at 

                                                                                                      least this much.]

[Fine, fine, I’m just pullin ur leg.]

[Wikipedia says that he’s some pharma company CEO]

                                                                                                              [Obviously.]

[He got into a scandal a few years back for charging 

states crazy high prices for rona vaccines.]

[Also some embezzling.]

[CEOs can have a little embezzlement, as a

treat.]

                                                                                                      [Anything else?]

[Not really? There’s some rumors of his

company doing something shady, but

that’s a given at this point.]

[Oh that’s spicy!]

                                                                                                                    [What?]

[If you find a way to confirm or deny that his

company is doing human experimentation,

I will pay you handsomely.]

                                                                [It’s too early for this. I’m going to sleep.]

[Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs

bite!]

        Hisashi turned off his phone and stifled an irritated groan, what had he gotten himself into?

A/N: I almost didn't put out a chapter this week, things have been busy with college and the like. I was able to pull what I wanted together this weekend thankfully! As always, comments and feedback help fuel my writing, so feel free to leave them. 

AO3

Next Chapter

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 22- Before I Lose Faith- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Ivar has a conversation with Ives. Aaline expresses her displeasure.

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Lagertha, Ragnar

Warnings: arranged marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault

Ch. 21

Word Count: 2324

AN: Wow. To say a lot has happened since I last posted is a gross understatement. I hope everyone is staying safe out there and I hope my story can bring you a little bit of joy during these difficult days. Stay safe, everyone. Thanks for reading. 

“No one ever fell in love gracefully.”

~Connie Brockway

Ivar looked up when a knock sounded on his office door. His secretary, Idunn, poked her head in. “Mr. Lothbrok, Ives Jensen is here.” Ivar’s smile was downright sharklike and he pushed back from his desk. 

“Thank you, Idunn. Please hold all of my calls until I return. I should be back in an hour, 90 minutes at most.” She nodded at him, standing back as he passed her. Ives was sitting next to Idunn’s desk, his leg bouncing. Ivar could see the sweat beading his brow and his eyes shifted from side to side. Good. Ivar wanted him on edge. 

“Ives! How wonderful to see you! Thank you for agreeing to meet me for lunch on such short notice.” Ivar extended his hand to his father-in-law and gripped tight, reveling in the wince that crossed Ives’ face. He swept his free hand out in front of him and let Ives lead them to the elevator. 

Once inside, Ivar pressed the button to take them down to the lobby. A town car was waiting for them at the front entrance. Ivar waved Ives forward and the man hesitated for only a second before he got into the car. As soon as Ivar was inside, the car began to move.

Ivar wasn’t taking him far. He didn’t even really plan on Ives staying long. His motive was simple. 

“Did you enjoy the party?” Ivar adjusts his shirt sleeves, tugging them down past his blazer. He looked up. Ives was still sweating, his hands clasped tight in his lap. He kept glancing from Ivar to the window and back. Ivar smiled, baring his teeth. 

“Ives,” The man looked at Ivar, his eyes staring somewhere between his forehead and his chin. “Did you enjoy the party last weekend?” Ivar asked again. 

Ives cleared his throat and wiped his palms down the tops of his thighs. “It was very...eventful.” Ives said, avoiding Ivar’s gaze. Ivar hummed and looked out the window, watching the cityscape pass by. 

“I saw you had to be escorted out.” He turned his icy gaze towards Ives. The man had gone pale, the circles around his eyes standing stark against his face. He shifted against the leather beneath him, his sweaty palms squeaking against the seat. 

“Was that what you meant by...eventful?” Ivar said. He kept his tone light on purpose. He wanted to keep Ives on edge. He wanted the man to sweat. 

This man had caused harm to his wife, a woman he had recently admitted he loved.

Ivar was a possessive man. Things, people that he cared about were important to him. If they were hurt or damaged in any capacity, Ivar saw fit to take action. He’d broken bones, bought properties, demolished houses, even killed for lesser crimes than what Ives had done to Aaline. He felt it was his husbandly duty to remind Ives of what he was capable of. 

“My wife hasn’t divulged to me the details of your conversation last weekend but I do know this.” Ivar readjusted in his seat, leaning forward. He lowered his voice and stared at Ives with an impenetrable gaze. 

“I know that she has sworn never to speak to you again. I know that is a difficult promise to keep but she’s done a reasonable job at accomplishing that goal.” Ivar took a deep breath and sighed, twisting the band on his left hand around his fingers. 

“I know that my wife refused to have you walk her down the aisle. I know that she wouldn’t dance with you at our wedding. I know that you have been invited to social gatherings as a courtesy, strictly because you are on the board of Jensen Construction. If I made up the guest list, you would forever be removed from attending such functions.

“My wife has told me what you’ve done.” He looked up at the trembling man before him. Ives had tears in his eyes. Excellent.

“The pain and suffering you have caused her. Now, the only reason you are not dead is because of the deal you made with my father. Our marriage in exchange for your life and your company. A reasonable trade, in Ragnar’s eyes. But not in mine.”

Ivar studied Ives for several seconds. The man was vibrating against the seat, his body ready to hurl itself out of the moving vehicle at a moment's notice. Ivar suspected the only thing keeping him contained was the very real threat in Ivar’s eyes. The man would stay seated until Ivar had expressed himself. 

“If it were up to me, you would die slowly and painfully so that you may know just an ounce of the pain my wife has felt because of you. Your body would never be found and no one, absolutely no one, would miss you.” 

Ivar sat back and cleared his throat, rubbing his hand over his mouth, collecting himself. Ives was crying now, tears streaming down his face freely. Ivar rolled his eyes and pressed a button on the console next to him. The car came to stop. He looked at Ives. 

“My driver has been instructed to take you home. And you will be returned home.” Ivar could see the man relax just enough to no longer appear pale. He couldn’t have that. 

“But know this, Ives Jensen.” The man looked up and met Ivar’s eyes with an astounding amount of courage. “If you ever speak to my wife again, if you even think about speaking to her, looking at her, visiting her, I will find you, I will hurt you, and I will kill you.”

Ives looked like he was going to vomit so Ivar jerked his head once and the man leaped from the car and onto the sidewalk. As soon as the door was closed, Ivar felt the car move beneath him and he pressed the button to roll down the partition. “Cafe Italia, please. I’m craving something red.”           

.

She had been at lunch, enjoying a nice outing with Torvi and Lagertha when her phone started to ring. It was her father so she sent him to voicemail. On her way back into the office, she listened to it and was surprised to find a long, detailed message about how Ivar had threatened his life if he so much as looked at her again. 

She wasn’t sure how to feel, at first. Astonishment at her father’s bravery, for one. Not many people were threatened by Ivar and then blatantly disregarded his threats. It was a surprising amount of bravery from Ives. 

Then she felt a steady heat that began to simmer in her belly. It started in her stomach and steadily moved down between her legs. She felt her face and chest flush and ringing began in her ears. It wasn’t until she felt a dampness between her legs that she realized she was aroused. 

Ivar had defended her. He had threatened her own father with bodily harm if he tried to see her. For a man to go to such lengths, he had to possess some kind of feelings for her. She had to take a steadying breath to control her heartbeat. 

Rage was the next thing she felt. How dare he! Did he think she was incapable of taking care of herself? He watched her train. Even trained her himself. He saw her physically subdue Ives at the party last weekend and he had the nerve to threaten her father? After everything he knew?

She hardly remembered asking her driver to turn around and head to Ivar’s office. She didn’t even remember getting there. The next thing she knew, she was stalking up to Idunn’s desk. Idunn stood up at her sudden approach. “Is he in there?” She spat. She didn’t wait for Idunn to reply before she shoved the doors open. “Did you threaten my father?” She pointed an accusing finger at him, ignoring the stunned faces of the two men seated in front of him.

Ivar was in the middle of a business meeting when his wife slammed through his office and started shouting at him. Her long hair flowed behind her like a cape and her eyes were ablaze with anger. Her face was flushed in her ire and he could see the snarl forming on her lips. 

She had never looked more beautiful than she did right at that moment. He could feel his own anger rising to the surface and he stood carefully from his chair. “Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption. If you wouldn’t mind stepping outside for a moment.” Ivar ushered the two men around his seething wife and locked the door behind them. He turned back towards Aaline, his mouth drawn down in a thin line and glared at her. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’m conducting an important business meeting with high-value clients and you just storm in here demanding things. Who do you think you are?” He stalked towards her and invaded her space. They were nose to nose and Ivar could feel the anger seeping out of her. If she were a cartoon character there’d be steam coming out of her ears.

She narrowed her eyes at him and huffed. “I’m your wife, Ivar. Did you, or did you not, threaten my father with bodily harm if he tried to contact me again?” Ivar glared down at her just as fiercely. He sneered and moved around her body, leaning against the edge of his desk before he answered her. 

“I did. As you stated, you’re my wife, anything that displeases you displeases me. I didn’t like the way he touched you the other day and I felt that he needed to know it. Besides, you’re not on speaking terms with him anyway so I don’t see how it matters what I did or didn’t say to him.” 

Aaline marched towards him. “He’s still my father, Ivar. It doesn’t matter if I’m speaking to him or not. I’m the only one who gets to threaten him.” Ivar snorted and rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. Aaline eyed the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his jacket. “I mean it, Ivar. Don’t speak to him again.” 

Ivar straightened and stared her down, the fire in her eyes igniting something deep in his gut. He felt the blood rush from his head down to his groin and he nearly moaned at the heat reflected in her eyes. 

“I don’t remember asking you who I can and can’t speak to. I can threaten him as many times as I want. I could even kill him if I wanted to.” Her hand snapped out faster than he could catch it. His head swung sharply to the side and he could feel the sting up through his temple. 

He jerked back around to stare at her and opened his mouth to retort when she was on him. Her lips smashed against his and he tasted blood. Whether it was his or hers, he wasn’t sure, but the taste lit something inside him and he moaned. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself fully against him, aligning her body with his. She could feel him hard against her and she whimpered. Ivar knotted one hand in her hair, gathering it in his fist and pulled. She gasped and arched back over his arm. He moaned against her lips, driving his tongue against hers and memorizing her taste. She dragged her leg up the outside of his and rested her knee on the edge of his desk. 

Ivar groaned and released her hair, bunching her skirt up in his fingers and exposing her core. She pushed against him, knocking him back against his desk. There was a clatter as something spilled out over the desktop. 

Ivar licked deeper into her mouth, exploring her. He felt drunk, his movements were stilted and slow like he was moving through molasses. Her skirt was pushed up to her waist and he trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh. He groaned when he felt the heat of her. She was already soaked through her panties.

Aaline shivered as Ivar traced his fingers up her leg, dancing over the sensitive flesh. She gasped when his fingers met her core. She rocked forward, pushing his fingers harder against her and Ivar moaned. She threaded her fingers through his thick hair and felt him shiver. She smiled against his lips and felt his answering grin.

She brought her hands down to his shoulders and pulled on the labels of his jacket. Ivar dipped his fingers past the line of her panties and groaned at the wetness he felt. He stroked his fingers over the slick dripping from her. She clung tightly to his shoulders, whining low against his lips. 

She jerked away from him at once and rubbed the back of her hand against her lips. Ivar glared at her, infuriated, when he heard a knock on his door. He rolled his eyes.

He stalked forward and yanked it open, the hinges squealing dangerously. Idunn jumped when he snarled at her. “What?” She pointed shakily towards the two men standing behind her. 

“They said they have another meeting at 3:30 and it’s 2:30 now. They said there’s still a lot to discuss and they’d like to be on their way.” Ivar turned when he felt Aaline press gentle hands to his back. He shifted and watched her squeeze around him and the door. 

She turned back to him and stood on her toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before disappearing back the way she’d come. He stared after her before turning his eyes back to his clients. He huffed and pushed the door open, letting them pass. 

He’d never been so sexually frustrated in his life.

@dreamlesswonder @youbloodymadgenius @inforapound @bcarolinablr @khiraeth @funmadnessandbadassvikings @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @londongal2810 @didiintheblog @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

[xxiaotiqinn]

Save Me (OT7)

Requested by michelle on Quotev <3 

a/n: so this is my first time posting something on here; I typically write on Quotev lol. I really hope you’ll enjoy it :)

Pairing: OT7 x hybrid!OC

Genre: mafia!BTS, fluff, hybrid!au

Word Count: 2.5k ish 

Summary: Bangtan Sonyeondan, the toughest mafia in South Korea. Ruthless, skilled, and emotionless. That is, until a hybrid changes their view of life completely.

Bangtan

The seven men were in the shadows, watching, waiting. One on the roof, sniper at the ready. Four on the ground, knives or pistols cleverly concealed within sleeves. One in a tree, fiddling with his earring as he carefully observed, waiting for the signal.

The last stood boldly on the docks, lamplight glistening on his silvery hair. The waves gently lapped against the soaked wood. A small smirk played on his lips as he glanced at his watch.

23:59:55

23:59:56

23:59:57

23:59:58

23:59:59

00:00:00

Another man appeared. The first looked up in mild surprise. “Didn’t think you would show up, Moore.” His tone was smooth and charismatic, and he spoke in English.

The other scoffed, stepping forwards. He eyed the Korean in front of him. “Don’t play nice, Kim. Where’s the package?”

The first—Kim—remained where he stood. “Moore, we made a deal. Give her to us first.”

Sighing, Moore raised three fingers, and two men came out from one of the ships with someone between them. She cried out when they threw her on the ground.

A soft gasp could be heard from the roof, so soft that only the ones on the ground below him could hear it. One of the men in the shadows tightened his grip on his knife, his knuckles turning white. Oh, how he longed to sink his blade into Moore’s throat. But that could wait. Yes. That could wait.

“Now the package.”

Kim sighed heavily and handed Moore the box. “There’s a lot in there. Be careful.” He tapped his ear twice, and the man on the roof lowered his sniper. “Let’s go.”

At the signal of Kim, one man stepped forwards, taking the girl in his arms.

Moore’s men raised their eyebrows or widened their eyes in surprise as five others slithered out of the dark corners, following Kim out.

Min Yoongi didn’t like to show that he cared. He didn’t like to show that he worried. In fact, he didn’t like to show anything at all. So when he returned back to base with two bullet wounds and a young girl protectively clutched in his arms, you could imagine the others’ surprise.

Yoongi was very good at what he did. He was an assassin, and one of the best at that. He could lie for hours on a rooftop, waiting for the perfect shot. His fingers would grow cold around his weapon and his leg would fall asleep, but his victim would always be dead in the end.

His mission was to take out the ‘illegal experiment’ that a scientist had created. But when he finally caught a glimpse of the beautiful girl with black silky ears and tail and dark, sorrowful eyes, his fingers refused to pull the trigger. He had lain there, shaking with internal struggle.

She was his mission.

But she looked so sad.

He had to obey his orders.

But had she ever seen the light of day?

Yoongi had finally thrown down his sniper and slipped through an open window. He ran down the hallway. A guard fired at him, his leg taking the bullet. Yoongi gritted his teeth and dived for the open door, grabbed the protesting girl, and emerged with only another shot on the same leg.

Namjoon hadn’t been very happy at first. While Yoongi’s wounds were tended to by Taehyung, Namjoon had lectured Yoongi for a solid thirty minutes.

Yoongi still didn’t really know why he did what he did. But all he knew was that none of them regretted it in the end.

Aera POV

Three months ago

I cracked my eyelids open, groaning softly. My limbs hurt all over. Where was I?

I looked around. I was in a plain white room, a pair of medical gloves thrown carelessly on the table beside me. My ears pressed against my head as I hissed softly, the strange atmosphere making me distressed.

”Ahh, you’re awake.” A young man walked in, smiling gently at me. “How are you feeling?” Everything about him felt soft and clean, his eyes crinkling pleasantly as he smiled. He smelled like vanilla.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly.

“Jimin. And you are?” He pulled on the gloves and gestured to me. “May I?”

I bit my lip, tensing up but allowing him to carefully examine me. “I-I’m Experiment 309.”

Jimin frowned, looking at me in kind sympathy. “They didn’t give you a name, did they?” When I shook my head, he smiled again. “I’ll call you...Aera. It means love, you know.”

I didn’t feel particularly loving or loved, but I nodded again.

”You seem to be pretty healthy,” Jimin continued, carding his fingers through my hair and peeking into my ears. I hissed when his fingers caught on a tangle. Noticing, he pulled a comb from a drawer and combed my hair until it was smooth.

Despite myself, I began to purr quietly, relaxing and slumping forwards. He giggled from somewhere above me, brushing away my baby hairs from my face.

“I’ll go get the others,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “Stay here, Aera.”

Six other boys filed in behind Jimin ten minutes later, talking amongst themselves. I recognized the scent of the one who had rescued me; the short, pale one in the back with feline features to rival my own.

“So. Experiment 309.” One finally spoke. He was breathtakingly intimidating, tall and unbothered.

“Aera,” Jimin cut in, glaring at his hyung. “Her name is Aera.”

The youngest smiled discreetly at his toes, bright teeth appearing in a cheeky grin.

I eyed all of them carefully. “Yes?”

”You...aren’t supposed to be here. In fact, you should be dead.” The first man glared at my savior, who looked coldly back. “But, now that you’re here, you can’t leave us. Welcome to Bangtan Sonyeondan, Aera.”

A few of them looked at him in surprise. He shook them away. “I’m Kim Namjoon. Seokjin here—“ he motioned to a stunning man with broad shoulders—“will give you the guidelines on how everything works. Break rules and we will not hesitate to kill you. Is that clear?”

Shaking slightly, I nodded silently. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Namjoon clapped Seokjin on the back. “I trust you all will get to know each other soon enough.”

Jungkook POV

Present day

“Noona,” I said softly, peeking into Aera’s room. She looked up, a bright smile gracing her features.

“Hi Kook.” I joined her on the bed and stuck one of her earbuds in my own ear. I grinned when I heard Yoongi’s piano track playing. Aera had been with us for about a month now, and we had all grown much closer.

Although we might be a tough mafia, most of us were gentle and quiet on the inside. Taehyung and I loved photography and art, Namjoon adored nature and museums, and Seokjin loved cooking. Jimin and Hoseok spent a lot of their time dancing, perfecting their moves, while Yoongi’s best friend was his piano.

Aera spent a lot of time with us, practicing in the shooting range with Yoongi or wrestling with me. She had definitely grown stronger both physically and mentally in the past few weeks.

Namjoon had wanted to make sure she could fend for herself, and the others agreed. But all of us liked it most when we cuddled in a heap, playing with Aera’s hair and smoothing her tail.

I had to admit that I was starting to fall in love with the cat hybrid. And perhaps the hyungs were too. I had seen, in a split second as the tv screen flashed across the dark room, the look in Yoongi’s eyes. A moment of longing and tenderness in his dark, stoic face before his eyes clouded with a cranky scowl, batting Tae away.

Aera’s soft purring pulled me from my thoughts. I looked down, smiling fondly as she picked at a thread on my shirt, her head against my shoulder. “Jungkookie,” she said cutely, looking up at me with innocent eyes. “You’re really warm.”

My heart fluttered. “Thanks noona.”

The door opened and Taehyung came in, strapping long knives to his legs and arms. “Come on, Kook. Hyung’s got another shipment in.” He smiled at Aera, his mouth in a big boxy shape.

I sighed heavily, not wanting to leave the safe, happy bubble that was Aera’s room. “I’m coming, hyung.”

Aera watched the both of us, worry swirling in her onyx eyes. “Be careful,” she said, standing up to hug Tae. He patted her head gently, dropping a peck on her cheek.

“We’ll be back in a minute, Aera,” he reassured her.

She nodded, turning to me. I reddened when her lips brushed my cheek for a brief moment. “Don’t be reckless, Jungkook,” she reminded me gently.

Aera followed us downstairs, hugging each of the hyungs tightly. Yoongi grumbled under his breath, his cheeks a rosy pink as Aera kissed his cheek and embraced him. Namjoon and Jin exchanged a teasing smile.

“Don’t lose your temper too easily, Jimin,” Aera told him. He grinned and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Since when have I ever done that?” Jimin teased, but he blew a kiss to the girl on his way out the door.

I lingered for a moment at the door, turning back to look at Aera. She smiled comfortingly and waved. I returned the gesture before finally following the others out the door.

Yoongi POV

We headed back home, talking amongst ourselves. We had successfully delivered the shipment of drugs to our client unscathed, except for Jungkook, who had received a slash from a knife.

“We’re home!” Hoseok called, but there was no Aera waiting by the door. The house suddenly seemed dark and foreboding as we entered.

“Aera?” Jimin yelled, looking around.

“I’ll check upstairs,” I said, glaring at Jungkook. “You stay put.” I bounded up the marble staircase and burst into Aera’s room, expecting a slumbering girl.

I choked, my heart stopping when I saw the rumpled covers, torn curtains, and smashed picture frames. My breath caught in my throat as I bent to pick one of the frames up. It was a photo from the day that we took Aera to the beaches. We were all ruffled by the ocean breeze and dripping with saltwater, but huge smiles were plastered on our faces. Aera was in the middle, with Jin’s and Taehyung’s arms around her waist.

Emotion rarely got the better of me. But I felt a choking, swelling feeling in the back of my throat. My eyes and nose stung with a strange numbness, and a drop of water speckled the broken glass.

I was crying.

The great assassin Min Yoongi, emotionless, quiet, deadly, strong. Crying like his heart would break.

I stood there for a long time, tears streaming down my face in an endless torrent. Aera, sweet Aera, love.

I loved her. Yes. I’d finally come to realize that.

And I’d be damned if I didn’t do everything in my power to get her back.

Three days later

“Hyung!” Taehyung bounded up the stairs and into my room. I looked up from the piano, my fingers halting in their mournful melody. Biting my lip, I shut the piano and let my hands fall to my sides.

“Yes, Tae?”

He frowned, sitting next to me on the piano bench and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Hyung, you-you look terrible.”

He was right, I thought, looking at my reflection on the shiny piano lid. My eyes drooped with exhaustion, I hadn’t brushed my hair in the past three days. An overall look of shabbiness and hopelessness. “I miss her,” I whispered with the tiniest sigh.

Taehyung shook me slightly. “Come on, Yoongi-hyung, Namjoon-hyung has something to show us.”

I reluctantly followed my dongsaeng downstairs to the meeting room. Namjoon and the others were sitting in a circle around the table, Jin’s arms filled with papers. Hoseok was furiously typing away at his laptop.

“There you are, hyung.” Namjoon sent me a smile that I tried to return. “We have a lead on Aera.”

I felt as if I had been dosed with cold water. “W-What?”

“We found her. Another mafia got her. American.” Hoseok spat out the last word as if it was a curse. “We contacted them. They want drugs from us before we can get her back.”

I balled my fists. “Let’s get her then. What are we waiting for?”

“We have to steal some from the dealer in Busan.” Jimin high-fived Jungkook. “That’s where we’re coming in handy. Let’s just say we’re basically locals in that area. We’ll be able to walk in and out with no suspicion.”

“Let’s get it!” Jungkook cheered, springing to his feet.

Jimin POV

“SHIT!!” Jungkook screamed, diving to the ground just seconds before the grenade went off. I cursed under my breath as well, grabbing the younger’s hand and tugging him to his feet.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” I growled, shoving the package into my large pocket. Jungkook hurled a knife through the air, successfully hitting his target. The man spluttered, clutching his stomach as he fell to his knees.

We had managed to sneak into the shady store, and I had tried my best to distract the female at the counter. I had bent over the counter, biting my lip as I stared at her through hooded eyes. Jungkook had extracted the package from underneath another box, and had just made it out the door when she saw him, slamming an alarm under the counter.

Jungkook and I had to flee, pursued by guards. We had tried our best to shoot them while running, but one of them had thrown a grenade.

Taehyung was waiting with a car at the entrance of the alley, and we leapt in. “Go go go!!” I screamed, opening the window and shooting one more man between the eyes. There was a spray of blood as he fell on his back.

There was silence in the car before we all burst out laughing. “We did it, hyung,” Jungkook said breathlessly, grinning at us.

Two days later

We showered Aera with kisses and hugs the second she was with us. “We were so worried,” I told her, grasping her small, bruised hand in mine. “Yoongi-hyung cried a lot.”

Yoongi’s cheeks turned a bright red as Aera turned to him in surprise. “I-I wasn’t. I mean, I was, but I was just-“ he was cut off when Aera flew at him, throwing her arms around him and kissing him. He responded with passion, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her back.

She finally pulled away, running to Namjoon and kissing him next. Aera embraced each of us, finally coming to me.

“Gonna give me a kiss, baby girl?” I asked. She grinned and reached for me, pressing her soft lips on mine. I smirked, placing my hands on her waist. “I love you.”

“Love you all,” she mumbled, burying her face in my chest.

“My turn,” Taehyung whined, and we all laughed.

[revisitingstoneybrook]

#68 Jessi and the Bad Babysitter: Chapter 9

Phew, sorry for the long delay! Real life happened and I’ve been super busy. But I’m back now!

So last we left off, Jessi caught Margo shoplifting when they went to the party store to buy props for their BSC Project du Jour. But since this is the BSC, Jessi doesn’t tell the Pikes or even Mallory what she did. *eyeroll*

Also, something is rotten in the state of the BSC and it isn’t the 2-year-old box of Ring Dings in Claudia’s closet...

Next BSC meeting on Monday. Mallory doesn't say anything about Margo, so Jessi concludes that, sure enough, Margo didn't tell her parents. She frets about what to do and still doesn't say anything to Mallory! Oh my god, TELL HER!

Mallory's at the meeting, by the way, but still looks like she's going to nod off at any moment. Hey, as long as she's there. Or else there would be bad things on the horizon for her for missing another meeting. *cue lightning and thunder clap*

Jessi's mind is taken off of shoplifting and Margo briefly when the clock changes to 5:31 and Wendy isn't there! Uh oh! *cue more lightning and thunder clap* Jessi says it's the third time she's been late. Um...they were exactly on time the first BSC meeting she attended and they got to the Barretts a little late, I'll give them that. But the only meeting she had ever been to, they were on time! Geez! Kristy gets all huffy and demands to know where she is. Jessi says she can't be sick because she was in school today and Kristy snips that she should have called. It's a fucking minute, calm the hell down!

And what do you know, tons of the neglectful parents of Stoneybrook start calling in to get someone else to do the child-rearing while they're off doing who knows what and it's all jobs that Wendy could have taken. Steam is now pouring out of Kristy's ears at this point. Jessi, trying to defend her friend, suggests that maybe Wendy had a sitting job run late. But a scan of the record book shows that she had none scheduled. Kristy, shaking like a geyser about to explode, says she'll call Shannon to see what she can take on. Um, why don't they just have Shannon come to meetings if they're calling her so much? And for that matter, Logan too. Are they that busy? I mean, Shannon at least is home whenever they call her! That’s the logical solution but as we all know, the BSC lacks logic.

Before Kristy can call Shannon, Mallory says she wants to call her mom to come pick her up. She also tells the club that her mom finally remembered that she isn't the live-in nanny and made a doctor's appointment for her the following evening. The club (well, most of them, because Kristy is still simmering with rage) is relieved and Claudia says she was starting to get really worried. Mallory says she's worried for herself and then realizes...hey wait. The rest of the Pike Army needs someone to watch them! Jessi's the only one free but since there's so much of the Duggars Pikes, they need another sitter. Hey, what about that "Vanessa's really responsible" thing from the last chapter? No? Already forgotten? Ok.

The only other one free is Wendy and Kristy reminds everyone that, uh...she isn't at the meeting. So she's useless. Mallory calls her mom and goes to wait downstairs. Claudia and Jessi hope there isn't some serious, terrible disease afflicting Mallory, and they get an *eyeroll* from Kristy. And I'm posting the next exchange in its entirety because I don't know whether to laugh or get the urge to punch Kristy. Or both.

“She's probably got some kind of flu or something. And I hope we don't all catch it. If we have to close up for a couple of weeks we might just have to close up for good.” What a horrible thought! “Why?” I asked. “Because everyone will find other sitters,” said Kristy. “And once that happens they'll stick with their new sitters. We haven't heard from the Hills once since we couldn't take that job last week.”

Ok, what the fuck?! The BSC shutting down for a couple of weeks?! What about all those times the club went on a group vacation, Kristy? Did Shannon and Logan take every single job while you guys were away? Geez, being an associate requires a lot of time! And Kristy's whole rant doesn't make sense. I guess the Hills are still dead to the BSC because Mr. Hill did the unthinkable and said he would have to call other sitters.

Stacey, saying what we're all thinking, tells Kristy to stop freaking out about the Hills not calling, they probably just didn't need a sitter since last week. But...but...but this is Stoneybrook! Parents are ALWAYS going out and ALWAYS need someone else to raise their children! Kristy shoots down her argument:

“Maybe, but I don't like it,” Kristy grumbled. “It makes me nervous. The Hills may not be our biggest customers,” but Norman sure is our biggest charge, hoo-boy is he a fatass! “but I don't like to lose even a single client.”

I love how Kristy is freaking out because a family hasn't called for ONE WEEK. No calls for one week = they hate us and are moving on with another sitter. Paranoid and delusional, party of one!

Stacey reiterates that they haven't lost them, they probably just haven't needed a sitter since and Kristy says, “We don't know.” Good lord. Calm the fuck DOWN! Another job comes in, it's another Wendy could have taken and Kristy orders Jessi to call her. Jessi does and no one's home. Oh, if Wendy shows up and it was a family emergency, would Kristy still yell at her? Yeah, she probably would.

The meeting goes on, Logan and Shannon are called many times, it sounds like some jobs have to be turned down, so I guess more families have made it onto the “DEAD TO THE BSC” list. At 5:55, Wendy strolls in. Uh oh...she's in for a bad punishment now! *cues lightning and clap of thunder again* What will it be...50 lashes? An hour in the stocks? Babysitting for the Rodowskys without a crash helmet?

Kristy blows up at her and demands to know where she's been. Wendy, bewildered, says she had a babysitting job run late. She asks if any jobs came in for her and Kristy says, “Plenty. But you weren't here.” Oh, it's on, bitch! 

Jessi says Wendy “didn't react the way I would have. I'd have been mortified and apologetic. Wendy grew angry in return.” Yeah, because she hasn't had the BSC Kool-Aid yet! Of course she's going to react with anger, instead of bending down and begging for an apology from Kristy.

Wendy asks what's the big deal, why does she have to be here if Mary Anne can tell from the record book when she is and isn't available. Kristy, whose face is turning pink again, growls, “Because you have to be.” God, Kristy is such a bitch in this book.

Jessi reminds Wendy that she HAS to be at every single BSC meeting on penalty of death unless it's an emergency. Wendy says it was, she had a babysitting job, she couldn't leave the kids alone. Well, then you bring the kids WITH you! Gosh!

Mary Anne tells her to call next time and wants to know why Wendy took a job without telling them. Wendy's confused and Kristy explodes, “That's the second club rule you've broken! First you were late without calling, then you took a job that wasn't offered to the rest of the club.” Wendy, completely dumbfounded and now irritated, says she had no idea and is shocked that she has to hand her regular jobs over to the BSC.

And why is Kristy yelling at her for breaking the rules? NO ONE EVER TOLD HER WHAT THE BSC RULES WERE!!!!! Remember? You gave her a dumb entry “quiz” and didn't explain ANYTHING about how the club operates, except for showing her how jobs are assigned! I understand the concern over her being late but how the hell was she supposed to know that she's expected to hand over her own personal sitting jobs?

Stacey explains, “We all share jobs. Even if a client asks for a certain sitter, we offer it to everyone in the club. That's the only way to be fair.” And avoid any potential bitch fights if a client asks for someone specific and the club flips out at said sitter. See: book #15 (shameless plug - I’ve done that one on here! Check the tags!)

So Wendy is supposed to tell all her clients, who the BSC doesn't know, “Sorry, I can't be your main sitter anymore. You must call this number, 3 times a week, ONLY at this time, and reach other sitters too. Sorry, but that's the only fair way! Hail Kristy!” That is so stupid.

Wendy apologizes and says she'll call next time she's late. She also accepts the Pike job with Jessi, who begs Wendy to please please PLEASE be there on time. After the meeting, Wendy bolts out of there and Jessi catches up. Wendy asks Jessi what we've been wondering for ages, “Who does Kristy think she is?”

Jessi, ever the brainwashed BSC member, responds Kristy Thomas is the kindest, bravest, warmest, most wonderful human being I've ever known in my life “She's the president of the club. If she wasn't strict, things wouldn't run nearly as efficiently as they do. Our customers wouldn't be as happy and neither would we. It's better that Kristy makes everyone obey the rules.” Yeah, but there's a difference between strict and crazy dictator. Mallory shouldn't feel guilty about being sick and Wendy shouldn't be yelled at for breaking rules she had no idea existed.

Wendy calls Kristy crabby (that's an understatement) and Jessi insists she's just worried that the club is in trouble. And Jessi ponders...is the club really in trouble?

[catsafarithewriter]

“Aww, I always knew you could be a romantic! How are you hide this from me!” I imagine Louise saying this to baron when setting up a date with Haru for the first time or Louise saying this to Persephone on their first date. Either one basically. Also love your The Bureau Series so amazing!!!!😍😍😍👍👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👍👍👍

A/N: Thank you! This went through several variations and AUs, before I settled on just a generic ficlet, inspired by the date scene out of Thor: The Dark World. 

(Human Baron is - as usual - based on @letterstoathens‘ design, because I love floofy Baron! His fashion choices come from the manga, although the polka dot tie turns up in both the manga and WotH.) 

x

There was a strange human standing in the Bureau, and Louise could already tell this flying visit was going to evolve into chaos. 

She could usually handle chaos. Chaos was the natural state of the universe, after all, especially after she had dropped by, but, even so… Her brother carried a certain kind of chaos that was usually compounded by his own tendencies to overthink and then overreact. If he was lucky, in that order. 

As the Bureau doors swung shut behind Louise, the man looked up and she saw bright green - familiar - eyes. 

“Humbert?”

He fumbled with the hideous bow tie he was knotting, and jumped like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Louise?”

Maybe she should have visited before now. 

She marched over to the desk he was standing before, and pointedly looked her brother up and down with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?” she asked. “What is going on?Why are you…” she gestured to him in general, “human?”

Humbert hesitated. “Would you believe me if I said this was a mid-life crisis?”

“We’re immortal, Humbert. We don’t have a mid-life to have a crisis over.” She gave him another sweeping look. “At least, you were immortal…”

 “It’s a temporary shape-shifting spell, Louise. Just enough for a couple of hours, nothing more dramatic than that.”

“Sure, but why do you even need to be human, unless…” She trailed off, and for the first time, looked beyond his immediate humanness. He wasn’t wearing his usual grey suit, instead opting for a sleeker, more understated black suit, offset by a yellow waistcoat and that awful polka dot bow tie. He had forgone fighting with it, and was now attempting to rein in the new challenge of hair - curly, ginger hair that didn’t behave anything like fur, much to his dismay. His movement was precise and curt, but Louise had known her brother long enough to recognise the undercurrent ebb of nerves. “Are you going on a date?” she demanded. 

His hair slipped loose from his grip, and he scowled at her. “How did you even–”

“You are! Oh, this is adorable!”

“Louise–” He cut off as Louise abruptly squeezed his face between her hands. 

“You’re in love?With a human? Tell me all about them!Where did you meet them?What are they like? Do they know you’re a Creation?Why didn’t you tell me about this before–?”

Humbert swiped her away, and consciously tucked back the hair that had fallen over his eyes. “I don’t have time for this–”

“What you don’t have time for is for me to not fix up your appearance. I mean, really, when was the last time you went out socially into the Human World? Never mind, that top hat says it all. You want my advice–”

“No.”

“–lose the top hat. And the cane. It’s not 1885 anymore, so unless you’re meeting this human at a renaissance fair, you need to look like you’ve at least heard of the 21st Century.” 

Humbert watched, visibly nonplussed, as Louise vanished into the back room and started rootling through his wardrobe. 

“So,” she called, “are you going to tell me about this person or not?” She poked her head back out when he didn’t immediately respond. “Oh, don’t sulk. This is exciting! The last time you dated someone, it was called courting and it required a chaperone.” 

Humbert glowered, but relented. “Her name is Haru, and we met on a case.”

Louise’s head appeared at the door again. “A client? You’re dating a client?”

“Ex-client,” Humbert stressed. “And, technically, we’re not dating.”

“But you want to.”

“Would you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

Humbert took a steadying breath, and Louise mentally upped the nervous level she had originally pegged her brother at. “It was… years ago. At least a decade. She rescued a cat who turned out to be the prince of the Cat Kingdom, and had to come to us for help when the Cat Kingdom took it upon themselves to thank her.”

“It doesn’t sound that bad.”

“They kidnapped her and tried to marry her off to the royal family.”

“Oh.”

“Needless to say, we managed to bring those plans to a halt, and only broke one tower in the process–”

“Wait. Wait, Haru? Haru Yoshioka? The human who saved King Lune and Queen Yuki?”

Humbert blinked. “You’re familiar with her?”

“I…” and Louise did her best not to give a telling blush, “may have had some dealings with the Cat Kingdom in my travels. News of King Claudius abdicating in favour of his son was kind of a big thing.”

Humbert considered this. And then, to Louise’s relief, nodded at the sense she was making. “Regardless, we brought her home safe, and we thought that was that…”

“Until?”

“Until recently when we met her again during a case.” His eyes softened at the memory, and it took all of Louise’s self-control not to coo. “I had almost forgotten her, certainly didn’t recognise her until she dropped her name, and even then I couldn’t recall her case immediately.”

Louise snorted. “That bodes well.”

“It was years ago,” Humbert retorted, heat rising to his face. “We’ve had many cases since then, and I had expected her to forget me in kind. Most humans do when they return back to their normal lives. I certainly had not expected to find her exorcising a haunted office!”

“Okay, it’s official; she’s way too cool for you.”

“Yes, well,” Baron continued, not entirely denying her claim, “it seemed the natural course of action to work together - it turns out that after her brush with the supernatural, she can’t unsee it, and so she’s been working as a… I believe the term she used was ‘monster-hunter’ in the years since - and–”

“And you fell in love with her.”

“I wish to get to know her better,” Humbert hotly amended. “I do not know her well enough to claim my feelings to be anywhere in the realm of love, but–”

“Yes, yes, yes, but that doesn’t explain all this,” and Louise motioned to his human form once again. “If she knows you’re a Creation, why not just invite her to another world and have tea there? Why go to all this…” and she gestured to his hair, “trouble?”

“She doesn’t know I’m a Creation.”

“But you said–”

“The case required a human form, and so I took on this disguise.” He had the decency to look very sheepish. “When I met Haru, I didn’t recognise her and so I gave her my cover story.”

“And now you have a date with her and you’re too embarrassed to tell her the truth.”

“I will tell her the truth,” Humbert retorted. “It’s just…” And he mumbled something.

“What was that?” Louise asked.

“It’s just, she still remembers our first encounter.” 

“And?”

He mumbled again. 

“Humbert, really, speak up. You were created eloquently, don’t pretend otherwise. What happened on your first meeting?”

“She confessed she had… feelings for me. A schoolgirl’s crush.”

“So you turned her down.”

“Obviously.” 

“And now she’s a monster-hunter, ass-kicking badass, and completely out of your league–”

“Thanks, Louise.”

“–you’ve ironically developed a crush on her.”

“I told you that I merely wish to get to know her better…” He hesitated and then, after a dubious pause, added, “The issue lies in that I do not wish to… worry her with reminding her of our last conversation.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I imagine she has long since outgrown that schoolgirl crush, so there’s no need to remind her of it.” 

“Hm,” Louise responded noncommittally. “Yeah, okay, but before you head off to sweep this Haru off her feet, you’re going to need to swap that bow tie.”

“What’s wrong with my tie–”

“Have you looked in the mirror?”

“It’s fine–”

“It has polka dots,” Louise retorted. She threw a plain blue tie at him. “Wear that instead.”

“Louise–”

“I mean, if we had the time, I’d suggest maybe something a little less formal for a first date, but I’ll settle with the removal of that abomination. Where are you meeting anyway? A restaurant? Movie? Wait, I’ve got it - are you going on a joint case together? You know, they say situations of dire peril are meant to bring people closer.” She cooed, “Aww, I always knew you could be a romantic! How dare you hide this from me!”

Humbert raised an eyebrow, but did exchange bow ties. “We’re just meeting at a cafe.” And then, when he saw Louise’s gleeful expression dissolve into disappointment, added, “Ordinary, human date, remember?” He finished tying his bow tie with a flourish. “Tonight, it’s just two humans having a perfectly ordinary afternoon.”

x

Louise had got a point, Baron couldn’t help but think as he watched Haru absorb herself in the menu. He hadn’t really spent that much time out in the Human World, and he certainly couldn’t consider himself an expert in the realm of modern dating. Not even a little bit. 

Still. He was fairly certain that it didn’t take this long to choose a cake. 

He should say something. Start a conversation. Get to know her, as he had told Louise. But the manners that his artisan had built into him rebelled against the idea of interrupting someone when they were deep in thought - and Haru was deep in thought, regardless of whether the menu was the cause or not - and so he found his tongue tied. 

He wrote ‘hello’ on a napkin and slid it onto Haru’s side of the table. 

He felt her gaze guiltily move from the menu and onto him. 

“Hello,” he greeted cheerfully. He offered a reassuring smile across the cafe table.

Haru sheepishly returned it. “Hi.”

Throwing all caution to the wind, he jumped in. “So what’s the story with you?” 

“Story?” She laughed and shrugged quickly. “Why does there have to be a story? There’s no story.” 

“You’ve spent the first ten minutes of our date hiding behind a menu that has three cake choices,”  he told her gently. “It’s either brownie, lemon drizzle cake, or carrot cake.” He grinned. “And you’re a self-described monster-hunter. Now, I think there’s a story, and given how you are suddenly indecisive over cake, when you were perfectly capable of facing down an oni two days back, I think this has less to do with the food choices, and more to do with the date situation.” 

She stared at him for a long moment, and he abruptly wondered whether he had already messed this date up. Then she laughed and batted a hand before her face to hide the already-rising blush. “Okay, you got me. Darn it, and I thought I was being so subtle.”

“So there is a story?”

“There’s a guy,” she said. “Past tense,” she was quick to add. “A guy that I knew… years ago, who I had the biggest crush on.” She reddened. “He, uh, made it quite clear that it was a one-way thing though, and we lost touch with one another after that. But, um…” and here, she deliberately avoided Baron’s gaze, “you… kind of remind me of him?”

She waited for him to say something, evidently mortified by her own admission. 

Baron had to resist the urge to laugh. 

“I remind you of an old crush?” he asked instead.

“Just a… just a little bit. You know,” and she motioned weakly to his face, “the eyes, your accent, the outfit…”

“Was he also English?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I mean… I guess? The accent was, anyway.”

“Then that explains it. In England, you’re only allowed to wear such dapper suits if you have the accent to match.”

She laughed then. The anxiety drained from her, and the blush adorning her cheeks went from embarrassment to amusement. She leant in with a conspiring glint. “What if you’re caught faking the accent?”

“That’s what the Tower of London is for.” 

She laughed again, and Baron found himself beginning to relax. This really wasn’t so difficult. Maybe he needn’t have worried after all. Yes. This was all under control. He could do this. 

A shadow appeared over them, and his brain kicked onto automatic. “Sorry, we haven’t made a choice yet, but if you could bring over a jug of water, that would be grand.” 

“Water? On a date? How exciting.” 

Baron looked up and saw that the shadow was not that of a waiter, but of a young woman, short, with her brown hair cut into a neat bob. Definitely not staff. 

Haru sighed. “Sorry, this is Hiromi, my future ex-friend. Hiromi, this is my date, who I told you about.” Haru shot a meaningful look at the newcomer, who completely sidestepped it. 

“Sweet. He’s cute.”

“Hiromi.”

“Anyway, I’m just dropping by,” Hiromi continued. She grabbed a nearby chair and hauled it over. “Are you going to eat those biscuits? No? Cool.”

“Hiromi, what are you doing here?”

Haru’s friend set to picking out the on-the-house biscuits, snapping them in half and nibbling along the edges. “Okay, so, I drop by your house, fully expecting you to be cleaning off the goo off whatever monster-of-the-week you stopped this time, but you’re not. You’re wearing lady clothes and jewellery, and you’ve actually showered with proper scented shower gel, not that nasty goo-be-gone gel that gets out bloodstains–” 

“Is there a point to all this,” Haru asked desperately, “because there really needs to be a point to all this.”

“Right, okay.” Hiromi finished her biscuit and brushed the crumbs off the table. “Well, then I remembered that you said you were meeting up with that dude you met when stopping the office oni–”

Baron had to resist the urge to remind her that he was right there.

“–which is just as well, because you remember that programme you made to alert you if there were any sudden blips of that weird strong toy magic?” Hiromi thrust a phone across at Haru. “Well, you might want to take a look.” 

“It’s not toy magic,” Haru could be heard to mumble, but her fingers twitched as she read the screen’s data. She looked sharply - hopefully - up at Hiromi, and then her gaze slid guiltily back to Baron. The shrug she gave aimed for nonchalance and missed. “I’m sure it’s just… a blip. Make a note of the location, and I’ll check it out later. It’s probably nothing.” 

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Hiromi said. “It kinda looks like the readings you went cuckoo over last winter. You know, with the talking tin soldier?”

Baron suddenly recalled hearing about a fellow Creation - a toy soldier - in the next town over, and suspicions began to crawl into his bones over the exact nature of Haru’s search. He flexed his human hands and wondered whether the transformation magic might have triggered the blip. 

“Oh yeah,” Hiromi said to Baron, “Haru told me that you know all about the magic and monsters and everything. All supernatural creatures give off a distinct type of magic signature, and Haru has this interest in these living toys–”

“They’re Creations,” Haru amended, “and he’s really not interested–”

“I’m interested,” Baron said. 

“–and I’m not interested,” Haru continued. “Time for you to go now.” 

Hiromi paused, and glanced between the two of them. She raised an eyebrow and rose back to her feet. “O-kay. Well, enjoy the date!”

There was a long, dubious pause in the silence that followed. 

“She seems… nice,” Baron eventually ventured. 

“She needs manners,” Haru said. “I’m so sorry–”

“Don’t be. Actually, she reminds me a lot of my sister. All energy and good intentions wrapped up in a chaotic bundle.” 

Haru snorted and flipped open the menu again. “That’s Hiromi, all right.”

Baron smiled and followed suit. He glanced over the options, as if he hadn’t chosen a good fifteen minutes ago.When an acceptable minute had passed, he said, “I think I’m going to go with the carrot cake.”

“Carrot cake,” Haru echoed. “Yeah, carrot cake sounds good.” Baron watched her as her eyes glazed over the page. “Carrot cake. Carrot cake, carrot cake, carrot cake…” The words continued to trip over her tongue, barely conscious of the shape of them. “Carrot cake…”

Baron smiled and folded his menu. “Haru?”

“Hm?”

“Maybe you should stop saying ‘carrot cake’ and go after your friend.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t just leave–”

“It’s fine. I can just stay here and say carrot cake alone.”  He offered her a good-natured smile. “Go on. It’s obviously important to you.”

Haru’s guilty expression sank into relief. “Thank you.” She had already half-risen to her feet before she visibly remembered her manners. She spun back to him. “This has been… so much fun, we should… definitely do this again.” She grinned apologetically and ran off after Hiromi. 

Baron waited until they were out of sight before jumping to his feet and shooting in the opposite direction. He tripped over a trash bag obscuring the alleyway, his gaze so intent on the skies. “Toto? Toto!”

Toto landed on a bin skip, appraising Baron’s ruffled appearance with a critical eye. “That date was short.”

“Haru is… Haru is… she’s…” He motioned for Toto to wait for him to regain his breath and senses. He broke out into a grin. “She’s looking for me.”

“Looking for you?”

“She’s following spikes of Creation magic, and she’s picked up the shape-shifting spell I used to become human, and...” He trailed off as his train of logic hit a brick wall. 

Toto, as usual, filled in the dots as quickly - or if not quicker - than Baron. “The spell which you used halfway across the city,” he said, “while you are here. Human.” 

“Yes.”

Toto sighed. “I’ll find her and stall her until you can get back.” Toto gave an amused grin. “Hopefully the human disguise will have worn off before then, otherwise you’re going to have a lot of questions to answer before you even start.”

Baron grinned back. “I’ll improvise.”

“Oh good.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Sanctuary -Chapter 49

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​

Nik has arranged a private flight; her list of wealthy and well established connections is long and prosperous, with more names being added as the days go by. Most are former satisfied clients offering services in exchange of hefty payments, others are associates of big name and influential marks. Word travels fast in the dark underbelly of the soldier for hire world, and once you've established a reputation, it follows you; your client listing growing larger, the money offered much more substantial, the jobs more dangerous and life threatening.  

She'd reluctantly given him the departure time; slightly remorseful for causing an even bigger issue than she'd intended, and eager to keep the peace between Tyler and her herself. It would never be the same. They both know that. The last thread that had been keeping their friendship intact has finally been severed, relegating them to nothing more than colleagues. There's been too much damage done; the years of pursuing him and attempting to convince him to commit adultery, the trust issues that have been plaguing them since he refused to dump Ovi in the street in Dhaka (going against her direct orders), and now going behind his back and almost single handily ruining his marriage.   The latter is partly his fault as well; he shoulders his blame and has had a little more than twelve hours to torture himself over the decisions he'd made. With more meds in his system; he's finally starting to think straight again; the confusion beginning to lift,  the doom and gloom dissipating, the harsh reality of what he'd done sinking in. He's disgusted with himself; for resorting to the means he'd had, for allowing himself to spiral so far out of control that he hadn't even realized he was making a mess out of himself and his life,  for keeping such a horrendous and vile secret from his wife and for not letting her help him sooner.  And for reacting the way he'd had during their fight; for that brief moment when he'd come so close to not being able to control his temper and had thought about grabbing her or hitting her.

It makes him feel sick even now. When he thinks about getting to that point. That he'd allowed his brain to get so fucked up that hurting her had even become an option.  Under normal circumstances, the thought would never have even crossed his mind, not even in the midst of their nastiest and most intense of fights.  And the fact that it had had been enough to make him realize just how much things needed to change. How much he needed to change.  So instead of going on a bender and drinking away his misery, he'd proceeded to raid the mini bar in favour of dumping every bottle of booze down the drain to avoid temptation, and instead of going into an uncontrollable rage and trashing and destroying the hotel room, he'd sat down and had an emotional breakdown instead. Allowing the tears to fall and the sobs to wrack his body; feeling emotionally and physically spent afterwards, but determined to make his life better. He wasn't going to lose his wife and his kids. And he was going to make whatever changes he needed to make to ensure that didn't happen.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his flack jacket as he crossed the tarmac; Nik and Esme are at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the floor of the jet, quietly conversing as one of the stewards finishes loading the bags. Nik sees him first, attempting a small smile that he doesn't return, and her lips set themselves into a grin -almost remorseful- line before she whispers something to Esme, gives her upper arm a tight squeeze and then climbs the stairs to the jet without a glance back.

“Hey,” he simply greets, and attempts a smile. He's been miserable since she walked out the night before; heartbroken and desolate instead of angry and destructive. But he'd kept his promise; staying away from her, not even calling or texting, no matter how desperate he was to talk to her.  It's the first time in almost the entire five and a half years they've been together that they've gone that long without talking; always finding ways to communicate even when he was halfway around the world.  And he didn't realize that he'd miss her that damn much in such a short period of time.

Hey,” she sounds tired, sad. And he hates that he's done that to her. But her smile is genuine; it makes her smile sparkle and the bridge of her nose to crinkle. She's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen; no make up gracing her still youthful features, clad in a pair of jeans and one of his hoodies.

“I was looking for that,” he teases, and nods at the sweater.

“You know it's my favourite one. I wasn't going home without it. And it still smells like you, so...” her voice trails off. “...what are....?”

“I know...”  he begins at the same time, then gives a small laugh. “Go ahead. Ladies first.”

“Age before beauty,” she playfully retorts, and even this small return to their often playful banter gives him hope.

“I know I said I'd stay away from you, when you called me to let me know you were leaving, but Nik told me what time the flight was at.  And before you get mad at her, I kind of put a huge guilt trip on her and forced her to tell me.”

“What are you doing here? I thought we both agreed we wouldn't see each other until you came home.”

“I'm not here to try and convince you to stay. I want to. But I won't.” He wonders if she wants him to; if she wants him to grovel and beg. Because if if that's what it will take to change her mind, he's more than willing to do it. He's far beyond worrying about his pride.

“You need to concentrate on the job,” she says. “And you can't do that if I'm here. You'll spend too much time worrying about me and the baby. And that's dangerous. If your head isn't one hundred percent in things.”

He nods in agreement. “I got a hold of Ovi. He's going to give it a couple of days and then they're going to make their way back to Colorado. I told him not to go to the house and to go to your mom's instead. It's going to be crowded as all hell there. Especially with Nik staying with you.”

“I told her she didn't need to, but she says it's for the best. She feels better if she can keep an eye on all of us. She said it would probably be okay if we went back to the house, but I don't want to be there without you. I'd feel better if you were there with us.”

“And I'd feel better if you stayed away from the house,” he says. “Until I got back. Just in case.”

“Are you okay?” she asks, and takes a step towards him.. “And don't say you're fine. Because I know you're not.”

“I'm not okay, but I will be.”

“You're taking your meds?”

He nods.

“Are you sober?”

“Yeah. I am. And I'm going to stay that way.”

Her smile is a little bigger this time, and she moves even closer to him.

“Have you been back there?”  she inquires. “The storage place?”

“No. Not since yesterday. Not since we...well...you know...”

“And are you going to? Go back?”

He shakes his head. “I told Mark to handle everything. That I wanted nothing more to do with it.  That I never should have done it in the first goddamn place. And I'm sorry. That I ever did do it. And that I never told you how fucked up my head actually is. As soon as I did it, I should have told you.”

“You thought you had a valid reason,” she says. “That's what your brain was telling you.  And I get that. That it was you but it wasn't you all at the same time. Promise me this won't ever happen again. That that's a direction you won't go in again. Because that isn't who you are. No matter what your brain tells you.”

“I promise. It won't ever happen again. That's not who I am; you're right. And it fucking makes me sick that I even thought about it.”

“Don't do that to yourself, Tyler. The guilt. Don't dwell on that. It happened. You can't go back and change it. For what's it worth, it wasn't all your fault. You had people enabling you. Making you think you were doing the right thing. And that's not who you are either. You don't normally give a shit what anyone says.”

“Guess I'm even more fucked up than I realize.”

“You're sick, not fucked up. And when you get home we'll deal with it. Together. Not on your own. You're not in this alone.  And the sooner you realize that, things will get better. You have to let me help you, Tyler. I know that's hard for you. You think I've already done so much. After Dhaka.  But I'd do it all again. I'd make the same decisions. In a heartbeat.”

“I didn't mean what I said. About wishing you'd let me die. I was just pissed off and on the defensive and...”

“I know...” she lays her hands on his hips.  “...I know you didn't mean it. And maybe things would have been easier. If I had have. But I wasn't letting you go. Not that easily anyway.”

He smiles at that.  

“I'm going to call the doctor when I get to my mom's. I should probably get into see her as soon as possible. I think I'm further along than I either of us think. Probably close to three months. If not a bit past it.”

“When I came back from El Salvador,” he easily recalls, and she nods. “Yeah, that was a wild eighteen hours. When I first got back. You were kinda...noisy...that night”

She blushes. “Yeah, well you have that effect on me. I just can't let it out when there's kids in the house. And if that's the case, that that's when it happened, I  need to get in to the doctor sooner rather than later. Just to make sure things are okay.  But I'll call you and let you know what she says. She'll probably want to do an ultrasound. To check on everything. I can send you copies of the pictures if you want.”

“Yeah, I'd like that. Then I go around showing them to complete strangers, bragging about my super sperm.”

She laughs, and shakes her head. “You're never going to let that go, are you.”

“Probably not.  Billy Flynn called. The IRA agreed. They'll take him off our hands. For everything we asked for. I'll let him know where you and the kids are. So he can have his people go there. So once I hand McMann over, that part of the job will be done. And no, I won't be doing it alone. I'll have someone there with me. So I don't flip my shit and fuck him up even more than I already have.”

“He'll get what's coming him to Tyler. Even if it's not you that does it. And I don't want you to be the one that does it.”

“I won't be,” he assures her, and reaches out to take her face in his hands, thumbs gliding across the tops of her cheeks. “I leave for New Zealand, In two days.”

“You found them? The kids? He told you where they are?”

“He just said they're in New Zealand. It's up to me to find out exactly where. But I'm thinking you were probably right about the grandmother's old store. That it's somewhere I should check out.”

“Don't go alone, okay? Because McMann may be out of the picture, but the Buckmans are still in it. And those are people you do not want to cross by yourself.”

“Mark and one of his guys are going to come along. Just in case.  As much as I can't fucking stand Mark...”

“He'll have your back. Mostly because he knows I'll kill him if he lets something happen to you. Please be careful, Tyler.”

“I will.”

“Because I kind of want you to come home,” she says, and fights back tears. “I really, really want you to come home.”

“I'm coming home, baby. I promise.”

She nods, and then drops her forehead onto his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. And he can feel her body trembling against him as she cries.

“It's going to be okay,” he drops a kiss on the top of her head, then places one hand on the nape of her neck, the other on the small of her back. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I'm sorry. For some of the things I said. I know how bad they must have hurt you and...”

“Don't be sorry. They were true. I needed to hear them.”

“I would never, ever, take your kids from you. And I never should have said that. That was a horrible thing to say you but I was just so shocked over the whole thing and I was so angry with you and I was so hurt when you said you wished I'd let you die that I just snapped and....”

“Esme, it's okay,” he presses a kiss to her temple. “What I did was fucked up. And I'm sorry I did it. That I lied to you. That I disappointed you.”

“You're a great dad, Tyler. And when I said that you should try being a dad for once...”

'Baby, stop. Just stop.  It's okay. And it's true, I've been away more than I've been home. I've missed a lot. But I always tried to make for it. With them. But I never tried hard enough to make up for it with you. And I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.”

“There's things we both need to work on,” she says, and he nods.

“Me more than you though. I've got a lot more shit to work out.”

“We'll do that together, right?” she sounds worried, and she looks up at him, her top teeth digging into her bottom lip. “This isn't something you want to alone or...”

“I'm coming home, baby. I already said that. Neither of us are going to do this alone.”

She smiles at that. “How long do you think? That you'll be in New Zealand?”

“Few days. A week at the most. It'll take us a couple days once we get there to track down a location. Unless the IRA can get more info out of McMann before they kill him. And I asked for proof. That he's dead. So we know for sure. So we don't have to worry about showing up on our doorstep a year from now.”

“I'll definitely be able to sleep better at night if I know for sure he's gone. And when you're home and I don't have to sleep in that big old bed by myself.”

“Yeah, that'll be nice. I know I know I'll sleep like shit until I get home.”

“You sleep like shit anyway,” she sniffles.

“Well I'll sleep like bigger shit until I get home,” he chuckles.  “You should go...” he rubs his palms up and down her back. “...Nik's probably starting to get antsy. Your mom picking you up at the airport?”

“Kyle said he would do it.”  The youngest Drummond boy. The only 'non cop'. A firefighter in Denver. For the most part he's neutral when it comes to his opinions on his sister's choice in men and her hasty marriage and pregnancy. But when his mother gets out of hand and he can't handle anymore, he becomes what they call 'Pro Tyler'.  It's mostly to piss her off, but they appreciate the support. And he's a good uncle; taking the time out of his schedule to spend time with his nieces and nephews, unlike the others who have a hard time even remembering birthdays.

“You'll call me?” he asks. “When you get there? So I now you're safe and sound?”

She nods.  “Don't go to New Zealand without letting me know about it, okay? I'm thousands of miles away, but I still like to know where you are and if you're alright.”

“I'll call you,” he promises. “Give the kids hugs and kisses from daddy. Tell them I miss them. That I'll see them soon.”

“I will,” the tears are threatening again. “Be home soon, okay? I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too,” he takes her face in his hands and kisses; tender, sweet, long. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Tyler. Please stay safe.”

“Always,” he says, and places a kiss to her forehead before taking a step backwards and watching her as she climbs the stairs to the jet. Smiling when she pauses in the doorway to give him a small wave before disappearing inside.

****

Kyle is already waiting at the edge of the tarmac when they arrive; leaning against the passenger's side door of his pick up truck, hands stuffed in the pockets of his navy blue Denver Fire Department jacket. The third youngest, he's the tallest and biggest of the three boys; just hitting six feet, with broad shoulders and chest and strong, powerful arms. He's the spitting image of their late father; brilliant blue eyes, the same easy smile and witty and sarcastic nature,  the graying hair clipped short to his head in a brush cut. He gives his sister a bright, cheerful smile as she raises her hand in greeting as she descends the jet steps, then hangs back as she and Nik exchange a brief conversation and a quick hug before Nik departs to meet with the waiting 'security experts' she'd assigned to the family.

“Who's that?” he asks, as he quickly strides towards his sister, relieving her of her carry on bag and suitcase. Watching as Nik...in her well tailored charcoal grey pant suit and pink blouse...climbs into the back of a Lincoln Navigator.  

“That's Nik. She's going to be staying at mom's too.”

“Friend of yours?”

Esme nods. “She's also Tyler's boss. Sort of. She's the one that calls him when she has work she needs done.”

“What kind of work?”

“We've talked about this. A million times. Private security.”

“Private security, huh?” he slings the strap of the carry on over his shoulder. “Why do I get the feeling that's code language for something else entirely?”

“It's been five and a half years, K. Let it go.”

“Yeah? Well It's been five and a half years of thinking you're full of shit. Hold up...” he places a protective arm across her stomach when the Navigator comes within feet of them on it's way off the tarmac.  And he notices how Nik is watching them; oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, a slow smile spreading across her face.  “She's cute,” he says.  “Your friend.”

“She's with Mark.”

He frowns. “Mark as in...”

“As in my ex Mark. The Mark who you dragged out of a bed at a hotel in Aspen and beat the shit out of in front of a prostitute. That Mark.”

“He's lucky all I did was beat the shit out of him. I should have killed him. I could have, you know. With my bare hands. I could have honestly killed him. Why would someone like her want to be a dick like him?”

“Maybe she didn't realize that you're single and 'looking to mingle',” Esme playfully digs her elbow into his side. “I mean, what's not to like about you? You're buff, crazy handsome, a firefighter. Chicks dig men in uniform. Even someone like Nik, I bet.”

Kyle chuckles. “Easy now. All I said was that she was cute. I'm not looking for you to hook me up.  Besides, I don't know if I could get with someone that's been with that prick. Not after all the stuff he's done to my little sister.”

“Typical, K. Always the protective older brother.”

“Always,” he declares. “How you doing, kid?” He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her tight into his side, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Not sure about the red. Never thought I'd see you with that colour. What's that all about?”

“It is a long story that I do not have the energy to tell. But I'm dying it back as soon as I can get to a store and get a box of hair dye. I want this part of my life to be over. It's been a nightmare and I need every memory of it gone.”

“It's hair.”

“And I want it gone. It needs to be gone.”

“We can stop at a store before we get to mom's, if you're that hell bent on changing things. What did Tyler say about? Did he like it?”

“He was okay with it, I guess. He never complained about it. But I just want it gone. I don't like what it represents. I don't want to hang onto those memories. I need this part to be over.”

“This part as in Tyler or...”

“What?” she gives a short laugh. “No. Not as in Tyler. Tyler and I are fine. Sort of.”

Kyle arches an eyebrow.

“We aren't splitting up, so don't get hopeful.”

“Why would I be hopeful? I actually like the guy. I'm the only one who does. Everyone else has their heads so far up mom's ass they just go along with whatever she says. But I think he's  a good shit. It's kind of cool having an Australian as a brother in law. And he's good for you. Good to you. Worships the ground you walk on. And he's a great dad.”

She nods. “He is.”

“But? Why do I feel like there's a but coming on?”

“But, we're having some issues,” she admits.  “Not bad enough for us to call things quits. But bad enough that I had to come home. He's got a lot on his plate. With work. The thing he is working on is stressful and it's taking a lot out of him and he's not doing well. Mentally. I was only in his way in Ireland. He couldn't concentrate on doing his job when he was too busy worrying about me all the time.”

“This all sounds a little ominous,” he loads her things into the back seat of the truck, then opens her door for her, a hand on her elbow as he helps her climb into the seat. “All the more reason I think this private security business goes way deeper than you're letting on. What would he be doing in Ireland that would require private security?”

“Nik has a lot of international clients,” Esme explains, as she buckles her seat belt. “Tyler goes where she needs him.”

“For private security.”

Esme nods.

Kyle shakes his head. “You're full of shit,sis,” he says, and slams her door closed.

****

Their on the highway for several minutes before either of them speak again. Kyle turning down the volume on the radio and then taking a sip of coffee from the take out cup sitting in the holder between the seats.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks. “Whatever is going on? Whatever is happening between you and Tyler?”

She gives a small, almost apologetic smile. “Not really.”

“How bad is it?”

“I already told you. Not bad enough to split us up. There's no reason to hire a lawyer and get divorce papers drawn up.”

“What if I told you that mom's already been on google looking up good lawyers and taking their numbers down?”

Sighing, she shakes her head in disbelief.

“I know,” Kyle snorts. “What a bitch, right? Considering her marriage is a huge dumpster fire. She should be the last person judging anyone for their choices. You know she's convinced that he has women all over the globe? That he's hooking up with different people every place he goes?”

“She's a piece of work. I can't believe I'm willingly going there.”

“Does he? Have different women everywhere?”

She laughs. “No. He doesn't.”

“Is he cheating on you? Is that what the issue is? You found out about it and you're pissed and...”

“Tyler is not cheating on me. Tyler would never cheat on me. In the same way I'd never cheat on him. Why the hell is everyone so against us being together? It's been five and a half years. We have four children together. We are people still so bent out of shape about this?”

“Well you did run off to Australia, meet some random guy, hook up with him, and never come home. First time we're hearing about him is when he's in the hospital near death? In some messed up work related incident? What? What is a work related incident when you're in private security.”

“It's like being a cop. In a way. It's dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than being a cop.”

“So he's packing heat, then.”

She nods. “And being shot at by other people packing heat. Among other things.”

“And he almost died?”

“Yes. On the job. He was shot...in the neck...and almost died.”

“Almost bled out. In your arms.”

She sighs. “Yes.”

“How the hell would that even happen? Why would you even be there? Where he's working? While he's working?”

“Because I was working too. With him. On the same thing.”

“Wait? What?” Kyle laughs. “I thought you were in Australia on a business trip.”

“I didn't meet him in Australia, Kyle. I mean, I did. In a way. I went to his place in Australia to meet him because we were going to be working together and Nik thought we should meet each other first.”

He frowns. “Nik? His boss? She's also your boss? What? How? I thought you were in business. Why would you and Tyler be working for the same person if he's in private security and you were in business?”

“This is a very long story. And it's weird and it's twisted and it's complicated and...”

“And we've got a two hour drive so start talking,”  he interjects. “What the hell is going on, Esme? Because there is something that you're not telling me. There's a lot you're not telling me. So talk. Now.”

She sighs heavily, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.  “I wasn't in business. I was in intel. I was hired by people like Nik to go places and get information. Valuable information. That no one else was able to get. On people that are suspected of doing some horrible things.”

“Like a spy?”

“Sort of, I guess. I don't know. I would just go where I was sent and weasel my way into peoples' lives and I'd get the information they'd need and then they'd go in and take care of things.”

“They? Who are they?”

“Mercenaries.”

Kyle's eyes narrow.  “Excuse me, what? Did you just say mercenaries?”

Esme nods.

“As in soldiers for hire?”

Another nod.

“You're kidding, right?” he gives a short laugh.  “You've got to be kidding. So what does this have to do with Tyler?”

“Tyler isn't in private security, K. He's a mercenary.”

“What?” he chuckles. “You're really expecting me to believe that? This is all a joke right? Some big joke that the two of you have cooked up to play on mom. Get her riled up. Give her some more gray hair and maybe some heart issues. There's no way you're being serious. Tyler? A mercenary?”

“It's how we met. Nik recruited him for a job that she needed me to take. We were sent to Dhaka.”

“Isn't that the capital of Bangladesh?”

“A drug lord kidnapped another drug lord's son. But Nik couldn't figure out where they were keeping the kid other than somewhere in the market area. So she went me in to poke around and make nice with the locals and see what I could dig up. And she sent Tyler with me to protect me. And to eventually get the kid away from bad guys and home safe to his family.”

“I am having a really hard time wrapping my head around all of this,” Kyle admits, confusing on his face, brow deeply furrowed.

“Tyler and I were pretending to be newlyweds there for humanitarian work. That's how we ended up...well...you know...”

“Fucking,” her brother finishes for her.

“And it went really well until it didn't. Things fell apart on the way to the extraction point. Tyler wasn't able to get there safely because the kid's father sent someone to try and steal the kid off of Tyler and....”

“What the fuck? What are you talking about right now?”

“I'm explaining it to you!” she snaps. “They didn't want to pay Tyler his money so they tried to steal the  kid back and all hell broke loose and we were the only two people from the team that didn't die and I had to hide out in the forest until the coast was clear and then walk back into town to meet you with Tyler and Ovi and...”

“Hold up...just hold up...Ovi? As in Ovi who lives with you?”

“There were cops everywhere,” she continues. “And the cops were in on it. And this drug lord Asif had these street hooligans chasing after us and it was still a big mess, so we had to hide in a sewer and Tyler's friend had to come and rescue us and he took us back to his house and then he back stabbed Tyler and Ovi had to kill him and...”

“Jesus Christ, are you honestly serious about all of this? What the hell, Esme? What in the ever loving hell?”

“...and we had to try and get across the Sultana Kamal Bridge but we needed help so Tyler got the guy that originally tried to steal Ovi back in the first place. And we had to split up and I went with them and Tyler stayed behind and...”  her hands begin to tremble, tears brimming in her eyes. “...and Ovi and I got across okay but Tyler had a harder time and a sniper shot him and get back up and then this kid...this fucking kid shot him in the neck...”  she wipes at the tears that manage to escape. “...and he was bleeding out and I was holding him and I was telling him not to give up...that he'd promised me we'd do all these things together and get to know one another better. And I had to put my hand over his  neck and there was so much blood. There was so much of it and there was nothing I could but watch him die.”

“Okay...okay...calm down..” Kyle drops one hand from the wheel and rubs at the back of her neck.  “Do you want me to pull over? I can pull over. Want me to?”

She shakes her head.  “That's how it happened How it really happened.  That's how Tyler nearly died. When he was stable, they transferred him to Australia and I went with him and I decided to stay with him. I didn't want to leave him there alone. I didn't want him to wake up and not have anyone there for him. So I stayed. And then I realized it was because I was in love with him and I wanted to be with him. And then I found out I was pregnant with Millie. So when he was well enough to be released, we moved in together and he asked me to marry him. That's how I ended up in Australia. With Tyler.”

Silence descends on the truck. Nothing but her soft sniffling and the windshield wipers back and forth as they clear away the light rain that's begun to fall. Out of the corner of her eye, Esme can see her older brother watching her; mouth slightly again, rendered speechless by her incessant rambling. And the hard truths it brought forth. His eyes rapidly -and repeatedly-  flicking between her and the road. Eventually, he pops open the compartment between their seats, pulling out a bottle of water and a handful of fast food napkins, gently drop the bounty in her lap.

“Thank you,” she manages through the remainder of the sobs wracking her body, and when she has a hard time opening the bottle because of the tremors in her hands, he does it for her.  Rubbing her knee softly when she gives him an appreciative smile.

“It's okay, kid,” he says. “Just try and stay calm. Everything's okay.”

“It's not. It's really not K. It's fucked up and it's a mess and I wish we'd never had to keep it a secret. But we didn't have a choice. It was to protect you guys. Just in case someone ever wanted revenge on Tyler. Just in case they didn't go right after him and went after family first.  We didn't want anything happening to any of you.”

“I get that. I do. I understand why you couldn't say anything. But...Esme...what the fuck right from the beginning? Why would you even get involved in all of this? Why would you even get involved with him?”

“It just happened. We didn't go into it wanting it to happen. Or expecting it to happen, It just did. And then it kept happening. For the entire five days we were there. We couldn't stop. And then when the job was done...my job was done...we realized that we wanted to keep seeing each other. We were going to take some of the money we were paid and travel. Spend time getting to know each other. To see if we could have something. Something real.”

“But why?  Why would you want that for yourself? Someone like him? That does that for a living? Something that's dangerous and scary and...”

“Being a firefighter is scary and dangerous,” she interjects.

“Being a firefighter and being a trained killer are two totally different things.”

“He isn't a trained killer. I mean, he is. If he has to be. He kills because he has to. He doesn't do many jobs where he has to kill people intentionally. Like assassinations or hits.”

“Oh my God,” Kyle groans. “This just goes from bad to worse.”

“He mostly does extractions. Like he did for Ovi. He gets hired to save people. And sometimes he kills other people to save them. To save himself.”

“Are you listening to yourself right now? Are you? Your husband kills people. And he gets paid for it. Does that sound at all normal to you?”

“I just told you! He doesn't just kill people. He helps people. Sometimes he has to kill. Especially if it's to save for himself.”

“Jesus...fucking...Christ...” Kyle mutters. “And you're okay with this? That he has to sometimes kill people?'

“It is what it is. It's the job. The people he kills deserve to be killed. He's not killing innocent people.”

“How do you know that? How do you know someone doesn't hire to take out someone that is innocent?”

“Because I know Tyler. And Tyler would not do that.  Every job he takes, he's very thorough and very detailed and he leaves no stone unturned. And he has great instincts and they never let him down.”

“I can't believe you're trying to rationalize this. How long has he been doing this?”

“Since he left the army. So about fifteen years, almost sixteen years, I guess.”

“And he's still doing it ? Even though you guys are married and have kids.”

She nods. “This is his last job. He has two kids he has to be find. They're being held somewhere in New Zealand.”

“And you came home because...”

“Because I knew he wouldn't be able to focus if I was there. That he'd be too worried about me and his head wouldn't be right into the job and those kids need him to be totally on his game. He wouldn't have been if I'd stayed.”

“Why? You're a big girl. You can take care of yourself. What would he be worried about?”

“I'm pregnant,” she reveals.  “He didn't want anything happening to the baby.”

“Esme are you serious? You're pregnant? You're having a baby?”

She nods.

“Holy fuck...” he runs a hand over his hair and down onto his face. “....what the hell have you gotten yourself into? Are you sure? That you are?”

“I'm one hundred percent sure. We've been trying. To have a baby. It's just happened sooner than we thought it would.”

“You're willingly bringing a baby into this goddamn mess?”

“I already have four. Tyler's been a mercenary longer than any of them have been alive.”

“Is that why you sent them away? With Ovi? Because of this mercenary shit?”

“Someone was after Tyler. They threatened to grab the kids and hurt them. So Tyler told Ovi to take the kids and run. To protect them.”

“This is insane,” Kyle breathes. “This is fucking insane.  My brother law kills people for a living.”

“Stop it!” she orders. “That's not all he does. He helps people.”

“I'm going to break his fucking neck. I'm going to hunt him down and I am going to beat the ever loving shit out of him.”

“For what? What has he done? Other than provide for his family?”

“What has he done?” He's gotten you...my sister...mixed up in this bullshit. In this life!”

“He didn't get me mixed up in anything. He didn't force me to stay with him. To fall in love with him. I did all of that willingly. It's not like he held a gun to my head and forced me to have sex with him or to marry him. You can't blame this entirely on him.”

“Like hell I can't! He got mixed up with you knowing what kind of life it would bring you. He could have just walked away and left you alone. And that's what he should have done. Even if you guys just fucked each other and then went your separate ways! But to get you tied up in more than that? Let you get mixed up in that life? He should have just fucked you and left you alone.”

She smirks. “I honestly never thought I'd hear you say that. That a guy should have just fucked your sister and took off.”

“I never thought I'd have to say it. But this isn't a normal guy. He's a fucking mercenary! He kills people!”

“And saves people,” she reminds her brother.

“I don't give a shit. Killing people sort of takes the shine away from saving them, don't you think? He had this life all along and he never should have let you get mixed up in it. If you loved you the way he says he does, he would have cut you loose. He wouldn't have wanted you to live this life. Why would you want this for someone you love?”

“Kyle, I got into this life knowing what he did and knowing what he's capable of. He didn't force me into anything, okay? You can't hold Tyler totally responsible for this. Because he's a good man and he's a good husband and he's a great father. And you can't deny him any of those things.”

“I didn't say he wasn't any of those things. But just because he's those things, doesn't mean he's not a goddamn hired killer.”

“For the last time!” she shouts. “That's not all he does! He helps people! Innocent people like Ovi! And if wasn't for Tyler, I never would have gotten out of Dhaka alive. So you need to shut the fuck about him being 'hired killer' and show him some respect. Because he's so much more than his job. So much more! And if you'd all give him a goddamn chance,  you'd realize that and stop shitting all over him all the time!”

“Whoa...whoa...settle down.  I'm not mom. I don't hate the guy. You know that.”

“He's my husband. He's the father of my children. And I am fucking sick of how she treats him all the time. Because he doesn't deserve that. He's not the horrible person she thinks he is. That she tells everyone he is.”

“I know that.  And I've never thought that about him. Ever. Like I said, he's a good shit. And he treats you well and he treats my niece and my nephews even better. And you know much I adore those kids. Like they're my own. I would do anything for those kids. And they wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him kicking in some DNA.”

“I'm just so tired of her shit and I know she's going to get on a tirade about him and I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with that. I'm worried about him and I miss him and I'm sick all the time and I'm so goddamn hormonal because of this baby!”

“Alright...easy...easy...” Kyle chuckles, and rubs the back of her neck soothingly.  “Just calm down.”

“I don't know what is wrong with me. It is so bad this time around. My hormones are out of control! They've never been this bad before.”

“”You're kidding right? They have been this bad before.”

“When?”

“When you were pregnant with the twins. You were off the charts insane when you were having them. Don't you remember? You were either crying or you were raging. No in between. Who was the one that was there? When Tyler was away? Who came to spend time with you and help out with Millie? I did. I was the one who had to bear the brunt of your hormones. I remember it very well.”

“Maybe I was a little...off.”

“A little off the reservation, maybe,” Kyle laughs and she glares at him.

“You're going be okay, kid,” he assures her. “You and that baby are going to be just fine. And I promise I won't kill Tyler when he gets home.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. Because I kind of  like him and I like having him around.”

“I may break some of his bones or mess up that face of his.”

“Yeah, not the face, okay? He's kind of nice to look at it and I'd like to keep him that way.  Just don't go off on him. He's having a hard time and he doesn't need that shit. He's trying so hard. To keep his shit together. To keep us together. He's not a bad person, K.”

“I know he's not. And I know he's wildly and crazily in love with you. I've never doubted that for a second. I just worry about you, Esme. This is a hell of a life to be caught up in.”

“He's keep me and the kids safe for five and a half years. I trust him. With my life. With their lives. I'm safe with him. We're safe with him.”

Kyle nods slowly, considering her words.

“I just want this to be over with,” she laments.  “I just want him to come home. And stay home. Is that too much to ask?”

“You'd have to ask him that. Does he want to give it up?”

“This is his last job. He's done after this. And it's time. Because it's starting to break him down. I hate what it's doing to him. What it's doing to us.  I just want him home.”

“Soon,” Kyle says. “I'm sure whatever he's up to, it'll be over soon and he'll be back. He'll come home, kid. You know he will.”

She nods in confirmation, then leans the side of her head against the cool glass of the window. Seeking some relief for the overwhelming fear and loneliness threatening to swallow her whole.