#at least I have everything I need to unlock the other evokers

[unma]

Back in this hellhole once more.

[ddddd929eii29e29]

Unlock Your Creative Potential: Crafting a Short Story Idea📖💡

Are you an author? Do you enjoy learning about the creative process for yourself or simply because you find it fascinating? You're going to love this blog. You can actually position yourself for success in other writing endeavors by being skilled at short stories. That's why we're demonstrating how we create a short story.

Short stories are self-contained works of prose fiction whose function is to impart a moral, capture a moment, or evoke a certain mood. 

Short Story idea 1:

My life has been miserable since I was a child, full of lies, scolds, shouts, pain,  including problems. My inspiration on writing my short story is my own experience. This story encodes things that probably tell the flow of my life.

You may be thinking, “All this advice is good, but sometimes I just get stuck! What I normally do just isn’t working!” That’s a familiar feeling for all writers. Sometimes the writing just seems to flow as if by magic, but then the flow stops cold. Your brain seems to have run out of things to say. If you wait for the magic to return, you might wait a long time. Writing takes consistent effort. Writing comes out of regular practice, a habit. I also know that not everything I write ends up in the final draft. Sometimes I have to write what shitty rough draft. One of my favorite writing professors used to say that he was a terrible writer but a great reviser, and that’s what helped him write when inspiration wasn’t available. I develop a set of habits and have more than one way to write to get the words flowing again. You might associate the idea of writing anxiety or writer’s block with procrastination, and procrastination certainly can be either a cause or an effect of writing anxiety. You can learn more about procrastination later in this section of the text. But writing anxiety or writer’s block is more of a condition. We might even venture to call it an ailment. I included characters in my story as it is an element needed in a short story. These characters convey emotions of mine, they are the ones who elaborated my experiences to the audience which I can't do or share personally with others. These characters are friends of mine, I manage to gather pieces of information and more background details about them to truly make my story meaningful in each side of the elements. "Nighttime at the orange house" is my chosen setting where in I undergo problems. This time and place are where my "anxiety" started which is my plot. My story can either be easy to understand or not, based on the reader. If he/she may somehow encounter the same situation as mine they would understand. My story's center of attention is anxiety. The plot is the main conflict of my story, you can find another conflict in the story I made. But if we talk about the main conflict, anxiety covers the word conflict. Knowing the cause of your writing anxiety can help you move beyond it and get writing, even if you can’t eliminate the problem. If the topic doesn’t interest you or if you’re having problems at home, those probably aren’t issues that will just disappear, but if you try some of the following strategies, I think you’ll find that you can at least move forward with even the most anxiety-inducing of writing assignments.

Short story idea 2:

Romance has had to stand the test of time every once in a while. Add to it one’s individual struggles at home and work, and the idea of romance begins to seem highly unattainable. But then comes a person who makes you want to take a step toward dating and romance. They make you feel happy and loved, and you become ready to take risks. But even then, there are challenges one has to face; one of them is striving to achieve personal goals while at the same time devoting time to one’s partner. It becomes increasingly difficult to maintain a steady balance when two things demand your attention at the same time. This is where maturity, understanding, and compromise come into the equation. “A not so Inconvenient Love,” tells the story of one such pair who is learning what it means to love and at the same time achieving personal goals. “A not so convenient Love” draws inspiration from “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before” and adds a flavor of its own to this coming-of-age romantic comedy story. "An Inconvenient Love” paints the story of Maya, a young girl who works part-time at a convenience store. She hails from a middle-class family that can barely make ends meet. Then we have Colby, the son of a rich industrialist, who decides to carve his own path by setting up his own business. The two meet in the most unlikely situation one can imagine. Colby was running away from a protest rally held against his father’s corporation. He changes his appearance on the go, and while he is on the bridge, he asks Maya to play along with his story. Sparks fly between the two. Soon, Colby begins to frequent the store where Maya is working with the intention of courting her. But Maya is opposed to the idea since she is leaving the country soon to pursue an internship in Singapore. But with Colby’s constant visits and her colleagues’ encouragement, Maya agrees to date Colby but lists conditions for their courtship. They decide that they would break up on the day she was leaving for Singapore. The conditions also state that there will be no grand gestures of affection or celebrations of the monthly anniversaries. Thus, the duo begins dating on their own terms. Romance or romantic love is a feeling of love for or a strong attraction towards another person, and the courtship behaviors undertaken by an individual to express those overall feelings and resultant emotions. Love is a connection or affection between two or more people, but is commonly known between two individuals. Love can wait, Love can understand.

[thornedrose44]

For prompts: Kara and Lena holding hands for the first time. One of them tentatively reaching our, their fingers brushing until they are intertwined and the other gives a small affirming squeeze.

A/N: Okay so when I first saw this prompt I missed the first time part. So therefore enjoy this angsty hurt/comfort mess filled with love that I think is becoming my signature genre.

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

Lena’s entire body was in agony. Complete and total agony. 

Her legs were probably broken as well as a few ribs. Her right arm was numb and immobile which probably should have been the most concerning but at this stage Lena was just grateful that there was one part of her body that wasn’t pure pain. 

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

Two-hundred and fifty metres. A mile. A hundred miles. It might as well have been the distance to the moon and back.

Lena wasn’t even sure that she had managed to cover more than a couple of metres with how she was dragging herself forward mere inches at a time with her one good arm. 

She stretched out her left arm into the cracked and broken earth, digging her forearm in with the minimal strength she could muster (her teeth gritted and jaw clenched the whole time) before pulling her broken body forward.

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

It didn’t matter that she was making minimal progress, it didn’t matter that the pain was so intense she was close to blacking out every time she dragged herself forward. It didn’t matter because all she could see was the crumpled blue and red heap at the centre of the battlefield. 

All she could see was Kara and there wasn’t a force on this - or any other - planet that could stop Lena from reaching her.

Alex would be coming for them, Lena didn’t doubt that, would be racing through the ruins of National City to get to her sister but that did nothing to ease the unbearable fear that Kara’s immobile body evoked. Lena couldn’t just lie there not when Kara was in sight. 

An alien invasion of epic proportions had required a full scale evacuation of the city and, unfortunately, this time there was no lead weakness that they could exploit. It was their weapons versus Earth’s weapons which came in the form of two powerful kryptonians. 

Kara was the heavy weapon, taking the brunt of the attacks to protect the citizens she cared for so deeply whilst firing back with heat vision that eviscerated their ships. Superman was on rescue operations pulling people from rubble and hurrying them along.

Lena had been working with the DEO, tweaking weapons and plans to beat the enemy, when she saw the sight of Kara bruised and bloodied on the screens. It was then Lena did what she had promised herself she would never do.

Had promised herself the second she had seen Lex power-crazy and at his cruelest that she would never follow in his footsteps.

Would never ever, ever put on Lex’s suit.

That version of her had never been in love. 

That version of her had never seen Kara hurt.

That version of her had never wanted to inflict pain like she did in that moment.

She unlocked her most secure vault and unleashed the one weapon that made her physically sick to look at. 

Lena had been in the air and joining the fight less than a minute later, appearing out of nowhere to shield Kara’s faltering body from a rocket.

Lena looked over her shoulder as her kinetic field absorbed the explosion, watching as Kara’s face morphed from shock to gratefulness to concern. 

“Lena, what-” Kara panted, unable to fully summon the energy to shout.

“You’re not doing this alone!” Lena yelled back in return, green eyes desperate for Kara to understand.

“Lena…” Kara cried, blue eyes distraught at Lena being involved, at Lena getting hurt but most importantly of her wearing the suit that she knew Lena despised to save her.

“Together, Kara!” Lena shouted to break through the kryptonian’s mental spiral. “You promised, Kara. You promised! There’s nothing we can’t do together.”

Blue eyes slowly cleared to be replaced with sharp, determined focus.

Kara had made that promise to her everyday since they stopped Lex. Had made that promise to her whenever Lena’s guilt created even a slither of physical distance between them. Had made that promise to Lena whenever there was an awkward moment or fumbled conversation. Had made that promise to Lena every game’s night when she claimed Lena as her partner. Had made that promise to Lena whenever they came close to crossing the line of friendship that had been growing fuzzier and fuzzier with each movie night they had spent cuddled up in each other’s arms. 

“El Mayarah.” Kara murmured clear and proud, jaw lifting up and a familiar righteous fire flickering in her eyes.

“Up, up and away?” Lena teased, priming her jets in readiness.

“Up, up and away.” Kara repeated, hand twitching by her side as if she was about to reach out for Lena so that they could soar up into the sky together.

***

It was the final ship that took them both down and created a crater that wiped out at least two streets. 

Lena hit the ground first - though Kara followed less than a heartbeat later - the Lexsuit taking the brunt of the impact and saving her life but leaving her body wrecked. Crawling out of that hunk of twisted metal had been more traumatising than the terrifying plummet to Earth and knowing - because she could see Kara’s unconscious form falling nearby - that Supergirl would be unable to catch her.

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

Stretch. Dig in. Pull.

The closer she got to her red and blue goal, the more her hope dwindled, the more her heart broke causing an ache that surpassed all of her physical injuries. 

Kara was so still.

Kara, who Lena inextricably linked to activity, motion… life.

Kara, whose ever restless legs bounced through meetings and close games of chess.

Kara, whose fingers constantly sought to make contact with Lena’s hand or to brush through Lena’s hair. 

Kara, who was ever quick to spring to her feet and sweep Lena into a hug.

She should not be still in this dead wasteland as Lena crawled towards her.

Lena’s strength gave out a couple of feet away from Kara, her arm unable to pull herself forward. A scream of frustration and anguish ripped from Lena’s throat at being denied the comfort of simply touching the person she loved so much in the world when she was so close.

Her fingers stretched and stretched, clawing at the blackened earth, Kara’s pale finger milimetres from reach.

Stretch… 

Stretch… 

Stretch… 

Lena inhaled sharply as her fingers made fleeting contact, hope rekindling in her chest.

Stretch… 

Stretch… 

Stretch… 

Lena’s index and middle finger curled slowly around Kara’s index finger, intertwining them together with that single contact point.

“Kara…” Lena breathed.

She was grateful for this connection. Grateful to be with Kara in any way possible but still finding it not to be enough.

She was greedy. Greedy for more. Greedy for everything.

So this could not be how it ended. She and Kara would not end here.

“Kara.” Lena repeated urgently. “Please, Kara.”

She squeezed Kara’s finger with all the strength she had left in her.

“Not like this.” Lena begged. “Please, please don’t leave me.”

The returning squeeze of her finger was so light, so tender that Lena could have easily imagined it except for how heartbreakingly familiar it was. 

It was how Kara always touched her: soft and gentle. 

It was all the affirmation Lena needed. She knew then that this wasn’t the end of them. She knew then, as she slipped into a deep slumber awaiting the rescue that was undoubtedly coming, that everything would be okay.

[sugary-sheep]

An Analysis of How Deltarune Chapter 2′s Soundtrack Made Me Feel, Copied From My Discord Thread

Girl Next Door - a very good track for the beginning of the game. It serves to strongly establish noelle as a familiar, friendly character, since you might not have bothered learning too much about her in chapter which makes sense considering the later revealed fact that kris and noelle are chidlhood friendsIt doesn't have any strong hints of bittersweet, it's just a plain happy melody. You're just starting the game after all.

My Castle Town - this is where the first twinges of bittersweet/nostalgia come in.It's meant to bring back memories of your adventure three years ago, chapter 1. You're back "home," at least from the player's point of view, and the player is the one that all the music panders to. (which wouldn't be a thing to note if the game wasn't so meta). It isn't very strongly bittersweet though. It's a calming melody, meant to ease you into the world, and doesn't draw too much attention to itself. If Girl Next Door is a warm breeze, then My Castle Town is the pleasant chill of fall.

Queen - this song is a wacky and fun melody, borrowing both carnival rhythm and instrumentation. It has twinges of deeper emotion and all that but it's mainly just a funny clown theme for everyone's favorite clown: Queen.

A CYBER’S WORLD? - it starts off with the main melody outlined on a chiptune low-res synth, which drops into a rich collage of higher-res synths. It evokes emotions of adventure and energy and anticipation, while also being neutral enough to act as a backdrop for all the silly things you do in the cyber fields. it's a really damn good song. it doesn't tug on the heartstrings necessarily but it just. it's so nice to listen to.

A Simple Diversion - it’s. a simple diversion. chip tune rendition of the queen motif. it's good. nothing much to analyze.

Almost To The Guys , Cyber Battle , When I Get Happy I Dance Like This - (combined since basically the same instrumentation and the same motifs) god I fucking love these songs so much. they are so happy and sensitive and soft and warm. They are like the auditory version of a hug. idk what drugs toby fox put into these songs but it fucking. they fit these funny guys so perfectly. it's just a silly fun theme about these fun little dudes. it's energetic and happy and makes you wanna dance. It doesn't take itself too seriously and it's just. It solidifies that this is a Silly game with Silly things that happen and fun people that you can be friends with.

Cool Beat - too short to analyze.

When I Get Mad I Dance Like This - same as Cool Beat

Berdly’s Theme - bringing back the CLOWNS, this time without a harpsicord though. it's a synthesizer melody and emphasizes the silly gamer antagonism that berdly provides, while not painting him as a bad person. just an antagonist.

Smart Race - this is a particularly tense battle theme, playing off of the semi-betrayal and kind if indignation you feel towards berdly since like. He's a lightner like you! and he's working for queen! what the FRICK.

Faint Courage - an uplifting melody that (tries) to soothe the pain of getting a game over. The crunched nature of the synths is notable though, compared to other soothing songs on the soundtrack.

Welcome To The City - This is the first song that really starts to dip into the nostalgia. It's still an upbeat and adventurous melody, but like. Your friends just left you, and you're exploring the city alone. It has a lot of flourishes and flair that reminds you that you're in a cool exciting city, and slowly becomes more uplifting as it goes on, but still keeps the distinctly minor sound. (if it's in a major key shut up I don't care). It's also the theme for the time you spend with noelle, and like. in that context, it feels more like a friendly nostalgic melody than a bittersweet feeling. the familiarity of Girl Next Door is back, and honestly it borrows a lot of emotional cues from Girl Next Door. They are double edged and the feelings they evoke are very context sensitive. it can be a friendly warmth, or a wishing for better, older days. 

Mini Studio - a return of the resistance motif. noticably lower res synthesizers but like. your funny little dudes are here :] 

cool mixtape - Clown to the MAXIMUM. not in that it's the most carnival inspired but like. it's really bombastic and fun while also being built around queen's clowny and wacky motifs. The instrumentation also adds to the non-serious quality, making it sound like. well, a shittily recorded mixtape. Lol. It’s great.

Hey Every ! - This song evokes all the emotions of as corrupted seen on tv advertisements with a dash of clown. Very distinctly wacky upbeat song.

Spamton - This is where the creepy factor of spamton starts to kick in. It brings on the menacing atmosphere of being in this alleyway with an unstable puppet salesman who jumped out of the dumpster, however the silly vocals do take a LOT of the edge off the creepiness. Which is fitting for spamton. because he would more intimidating if his dialogue wasn't so ridiculous and silly, and if he wasn’t such a silly little guy.

Now's Your Chance to Be A - a very groovy and slightly menacing battle theme that makes you wanna get out of this situation, but it's not like. scary. it's just a little bit creepy. Like a haunted house. it's a really fun song though. the edge mostly serves to accentuate the wacky and fun qualities of the song, like salt enhancing the sweetness of a dessert.

Elegant Entrance - This has the same menacing/eerie quality as spamton’s battle theme, but much more genuine. it takes the formerly clowny harpsicord used with Queen’s themes, and makes it sound much more regal. It's not bittersweet though. just intimidating.

Bluebird of Misfortune - a VERY strongly minor sounding song, and while it's not a super deeply resonant sadness, it does minimize the wacky/funny factor.

Pandora Palace - the first majorly bombastic song. It's the buildup to the climax, and has a very unique blend of regal, groovy, and energetic sounds with a small sprinkle of bittersweet, mostly to build tension.

KEYGEN - really cool and gives an appropriate feeling for unlocking the door into the SECRET BOSS.

Acid Tunnel of Love - very relaxing, very happy melody. it almost dips into bittersweet at times, but is a solidly uplifting and soothing melody. It's a rest for the soul.

It's Pronounced "Rules" - Rgal in a way very different from Elegant Entrance and Pandora Palace. It's a kind of pretentious regalness, and is a big return to clowniness. Because Roulxs is a pretentious clown man.

Lost Girl - It’s. very bittersweet and nostalgic. It has solid uplifting moments to balance it out, but it's. not a super happy song. it's not a super sad one either. it's just. contemplative. emotional. it'd be a good song to cry to.

Ferris Wheel - A combination of Lost Girl and Girl Next Door, both in mood and actual motifs. It's got a lot more warmth than lost girl, and the chiptune main melody gives it the silliness it needs to take the edge off it’s bitersweetness. The upbeat and kinda whimsical harmonization helps with this too. It's a theme for two girls having an awkward but really nice and fun gay moment.

Attack of the Killer Queen  - oh man.oh MAN.Such a good song. It's absolutely bombastic, fulfilling all the promises of epic finality and regal power that have been set up throughout the mansion section. It makes queen feel like a POWERFUL and intimidating villain for honestly like. the first time in the game. It also has the emotional quality, the feeling of un-rightness, once again driven by berdly being an antagonist, but the context is stronger, since you had just had the emotional connection with him and bringing him to your side.

Giga Size - this song does not let down any of the pressure from killer queen. it has all the menacing strength that you would expect from it, and takes the regal intimidation up to another level. it's supposed to make you feel like you've lost, and as far as the player knows, they have. Also it's a lot longer than you would expect??? the soundtrack is honestly filled with really short songs. but Giga Size is one of the longer ones, despite the short amount of time it actually plays. I don't remember ever being in that portion of the cutscene long enough to hear the full thing. it's worth a listen to if you haven't already.

Powers Combined - the uplifting counterbalance to Giga Size. It gets you pumped, and it has an air of finality stronger than attack of the killer queen. This is the final push. you're on the precipice of victory.

Knock You Down - This theme continues everything from Powers combined. It's less bombastic than Attack of the Killer queen, though bviously it's still very energetic and cool. It's serious in a more uplifting sense, but also quite tense. there is a lot on the line. This is the do or die moment. It both hypes you up and calms you down, and evokes a very particular emotion, especially given the context. Really good for getting in the zone.

The Dark Truth - another song that, while more emotional, doesn't hit super deep. Imo it feels like it’s going for an "exaggerated" sense of danger and sadness. Which makes sense if it's meant to instill some doubt in ralsei's credibility. it's still a very serious song, but it feels like it's trying a little too hard. (not necessarily in a bad way)

Digital Roots - a very menacing song, and probably the most truly menacing song in the soundtrack. Sets the atmosphere for the basement perfectly.

Deal Gone Wrong - This is the climax of Digital Roots and the whole process of getting the secret boss. You're in real danger now. The puppet man wants to make a deal, and he wants your soul.

BIG SHOT - woooh boy. This song carries a lot of this menace, but brings in a ton of bombastic energy and a little bit of clown as well. it's like Now's Your Chance To Be A, but more intense. The vocal editing really adds so much to this track. The motifs are very well used, and it's just an incredibly fun and dramatic song. it's groovy! it's wacky! it's intimidating! It gets you pumped! it's a very good song

A Real Boy - This one is a really nice song. it's got a very nice uplifting quality and there's a very subtle and like. almost angelic sharp pad in the background of it that you wouldn't immediately notice adds a lot to the texture of it, combined with the crunched and low res main synth. the background of that scene fits it perfectly. Childishly painted sun and sky and all that. He’s a real boy now. You freed him :). He can escape his strings now :) 

dialtone - It’s like if you took one of the more emotional songs in the soundtrack and made it a little silly. Which makes sense. You're supposed to feel kinda bad for him, but he's still a weird wacky guy who just tried to kill you.

sans. - what do I need to say. it's sans's theme. it's wacky in an extremely chill way. it contrasts with basically all of deltarune's wacky characters, and that's perfectly cool. sans is a chill guy, especially in this game.

Chill Jailbreak Alarm To Study And Relax To - this one is just toby having fun. It's napstablook's theme with an alarm in the background. it's funny, it serves it's purpose as a gag. it's great.

You Can Always Come Home - this one has the nostalgic quality that I've been talking about very strongly, but the melody is just. It's so soothing and uplifting that you can't help but feel warm inside. it might be cold and snowing outside, but for now, you're home. you're with your family, you're sipping hot cocoa. Everything is right with the world, if only for a moment. You can always come home.

Until Next Time - another soothing melody, being a corrupted version of Don't Forget, and it evokes a lot of the same emotions, if a bit less strongly. It plays into the mystery of the ending, and would probably suit the snowgrave route pretty well. It's a good ending song in general though. It doesn't drown you in emotion. It lets you feel how you felt about what you just experienced.

Before the Story - really strong song. It's hard to fully analyze it given like. there isn't a lot of gameplay context. but it is a very dark and rich song. it's really good.

Berdly (Rejected Concept) - This song sucks ASS. it's like. pretentious. but also so cringe fail at the same.

[beca-mitchell]

there's no control (you calm my soul) (1/1)

Summary: Dani just wants to feel warmth again. She finds it in a motel room in Vermont, Jamie by her side. 

or,

the second first time fic nobody asked for. Rated M/E.

Word count: 3,190

A/N: Fic title from "Spiritual" by Super Duper, ft. Mr Gabriel. This idea would not leave me alone and demanded to be written no matter how horrible the outcome, so my apologies in advance. I wanted to explore how thirsty Dani would be after sleeping with Jamie for the first time so this is kind of a second first time fic.

Read below or on AO3.

“Yeah?” Jamie asks, finger curling around the strap of Dani’s bra.

Dani, who is already hovering above Jamie, basks in how natural it all feels. How natural it feels to hovering over this woman; this woman to whom she is so incredibly attracted.

“Yeah,” Dani agrees. “Please.”

And warmth—warmth spreads everywhere.

There is so much she wants to do.

 * * * * *

 America is cold.

Colder, perhaps, than how she left it just under a year ago (had it already been close to a year?). England had been cold at the beginning as well, then it had warmed, but nothing quite like a hot summer in the South. Nothing quite like sweet tea and ice cubes and endless sun. But it had been warm—warm enough until the unbearable cold.

And now she’s back in the U.S., less than a year after leaving everything behind. Fall in the Northeast. Close to winter now.

Dani is cold. She shivers, slumping a little in her seat as she takes in the snow-lined trees and the gloomy skies.

Of course, she’s cold, she tells herself. She’s cold because it’s winter. Almost, anyway. It’s fall, it’s winter, and she’s cold because she’s too tired to even reach out and crank the heat in the car.

But Jamie—Jamie is warm.

Dani takes a moment to glance over at Jamie who is seated in the driver’s seat, expertly navigating the unfamiliar roads as they make their way further north.

Vermont, Jamie had suggested. To see the snow. And Dani had agreed because it was better than feeling the ache that continued to permeate her heart—the same ache that had never quite gone away since leaving England for America.

(Perhaps, even, the same ache that never quite went away since leaving America for England—but that alone feels a lifetime away, even if it nips at the back of Dani’s mind from time to time.)

Instinctively, Dani reaches her hand out to her left, longing to touch Jamie again. To feel comfort. To feel safe. To feel grounded. She pauses halfway, hovering awkwardly over the middle console. Dani flushes, quickly turning her head to the side so she can gaze out the window instead. Her hand falls lamely just beside her thigh and she moves to pick at a loose thread in her pants just to have something to do.

As she follows a random, slow trickle of water sliding down the window, her eyes wander to her own reflection, slightly distorted in the rain-speckled side-view mirror. Without fail, she catches the disparity in her own eye color, still as jarring as it was the first time she had caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

But—ultimately, that was the important takeaway: she had caught a glimpse of herself and that alone. Herself. Alone.

A soft, gentle touch startles her out of her gazing. Dani turns quickly, eyes dropping to where Jamie has hooked her pinky just around the tip of her finger. Her gaze flicks up, a sheepish smile spreading across her lips involuntarily when she catches the barest hint of a smile—a smirk—on Jamie’s lips, though her gaze is fixated ahead, carefully driving all the while. Dani’s eyes track up and around Jamie’s profile with the kind of laziness she has only recently allowed herself to indulge in: she takes in the curve of her chin, the tip of her nose, the gentle natural red in her cheeks, and finally the unruly curls peeking out from under the soft hat jammed atop her head.

No, not alone, Dani thinks. She will not have to be alone for whatever stretch of life she has left before her.

With a smile and her lip tucked between her teeth for the briefest of moments, Dani relaxes in her seat, curling her hand around Jamie’s and letting herself drift off.

 * * * * *

  Jamie’s hands on her body are neither heavy or light. Quite simply, her hands feel like they are a part of Dani’s body. Not quite extensions of herself, but gentle like the lap of waves against the shore. Over and over. All over. Everywhere.

Everywhere, her hands roam—but the most striking intimacy happens when her hands grab Dani’s, both of them expelling a trembling breath.

“Touch me,” Jamie whispers. No—begs. She begs, eyes dark and alight with something wonderfully new and exciting.

And Dani does.

Dani won’t stop—she couldn’t if she tried. Not now, knowing what she does. Wanting what she wants. Being who she is.

Jamie has unlocked everything.

 * * * * *

 They end up in a cozy motel (two words that are not necessarily meant to go together, but Dani has experience with the unexpected at this point) by the time they reach the Vermont state line. It is dark and chilly and Jamie all but drags Dani from the car over the sound of Dani’s half-hearted protests that they just sleep in the back of their car all night. Keep each other warm. Cuddling. She’s sure one of those suggestions will land, but Jamie ignores her and they end up securing a room for the night.

“Motels freak me out,” Dani admits, finally, as Jamie nudges her fully into the room. “Always have.” Her eyes, however, land longingly on the comfortable-looking beds. The two notably separate beds. Dani chances a glance at Jamie to see whether Jamie has a comment or remark about their sleeping arrangement, but Jamie is already grumbling to herself and rifling through one of their oversized duffles.

It takes a moment for Dani to process—like, really truly process—but they’re here. They’ve left that part of their life behind. The very brief spell at Bly, pleasant and horrible memories alike.

A new adventure.

A new adventure, starting with the hunch in Jamie’s shoulders and the determination that seems to reverberate from her with every breath. Dani wonders which demons Jamie herself is running from (she has some idea); Dani wonders if Jamie knows that Dani isn’t necessarily something to run towards either (Jamie knows; she must).

But—

One day at a time.

Dani can try. For Jamie, at least. “Hey,” she calls, taking the chance to step into Jamie’s orbit again, leaning up to rest her chin just over Jamie’s shoulder to peer at the mess she’s making inside the bag. “Let’s just get some rest.”

“Impatient,” Jamie replies, offering a smile over her shoulder. Dani catches the smile with her lips, leaning in as best as she can to press a messy kiss to Dani’s mouth, only managing to get somewhat of an off-center kiss and the corner of her mouth.

Dani stifles a smile at Jamie’s surprised expression, happy to know that her kiss evokes as much a reaction as Jamie’s kisses do in her. She catches the way Jamie’s eyes flick down to her lips as she twists slowly in Dani’s hold, from where she is backed up against the little table in the corner. “We should probably shower though,” Dani suggests lightly, this time unable to keep the laugh from escaping when Jamie’s entire posture deflates and she ends up pouting right at Dani’s face.

Still. This is so new. And Dani still doesn’t quite know what to do with all the warmth that spills through her—spills out of her. A strangeness, almost, this sense of wanting and needing like she has never wanted and needed before. She gapes for a moment too long, something that she hopes looks like desire across her face as clear as day, because Jamie smiles again at her. Jamie smiles, playful and understanding all at once.

“For that, we’re doing this separately.”

Dani protests weakly, still not quite catching up to her own emotions, loosely letting Jamie’s shirt slip past her fingers. “I didn’t—”

“Sure,” Jamie drawls, flashing one last smile over her shoulder. “It’s okay, you’re valid, Poppins.”

Dani’s blush reaches all the way down to her wooly socks.

 * * * * *

 Dani is brushing out her hair, warm and fluffy from the cheap blow dryer in their bathroom, when she walks out, eyes landing on Jamie already tucked under the covers on one of the beds, nose buried in a book. A swell of affection rushes through her at the sight of her—her girlfriend, as foreign as the thought sounds. Companion. Company. Girlfriend.

She longs to test the word out on her tongue, but her own fears haven’t quite ebbed yet. The move back to the U.S. has barely settled in her chest, let alone the thought of a life past Christmas. And yet, here, in this nondescript motel room, Jamie is setting her book aside and gazing at Dani as if she hung the stars themselves.

One day at a time.

Dani flicks the light off, walking slowly over to the other empty (cold, desolate, lonely), unoccupied bed. She pauses midway and she peeks over her shoulder hesitantly, the question dying on her lips when Jamie is already lifting the edge of the comforter on the too-small bed.

“C’mere.”

Dani bites her lip, sliding beneath the comforter. She shivers as her leg brushes against Jamie’s. “S’cold,” she mumbles, tucking her head under Jamie’s chin.

“You’re always cold,” Jamie teases, though there is a hint of tiredness in her voice.

Dani doesn’t respond for a long moment, wondering if Jamie knows how close to the truth she is—the lingering thoughts and worries always nagging at the back of Dani’s mind. Maybe it’s all just banter to Jamie. Maybe it’s somewhere in between, in that gray area they haven’t really touched yet—but Jamie never pushes. Never forces Dani to talk.

Only when Dani’s ready.

“Not so much when I’m with you,” Dani finally whispers, letting her breath wash over the bumps of Jamie’s collarbones. She lifts a hand slowly, tracing the delicate bone, marvelling in the warmth that crashes through her when Jamie shivers as if she is drawing some of the cold from her lover. Entranced, Dani traces her finger up the delicate column of Jamie’s neck, then to her jaw, and finally to her lips, lingering. Jamie’s lips press forward, kissing her fingertip ever so gently that it makes Dani want to cry.

She doesn’t cry.

She surges up, kissing Jamie with as much gusto as she can, rocking the bed ever so slightly as she does so. Jamie’s tiny noise of surprise quickly morphs into one of distinct pleasure as she responds to the kiss easily and naturally, like they’ve been doing this for years. Like their lips have only longed to meet again and again with the experience of lovers who have had thousands of kisses before.

Jamie’s hand is sure and steady as it slips up the back of Dani’s shirt, fingers mapping new but familiar paths. The faintest memory of their first night together comes rushing back, but the new sensations scramble to overwrite the wiring in Dani’s brain as she arches into Jamie’s warmth. Each sensation feels like a jolt to her own senses—each fractured breath between them as they kiss, messy and desperate, like each kiss is their first kiss anew.

A new first kiss: there is no greenery; there is no lake; there is no haunted spectre. Just them, together in this bed (it’s a bed, even if it isn’t the best), finally.

(But not a first kiss that replaces their first kiss, to be sure. Dani would never.)

“You sure?” Jamie murmurs quietly, the words barely slipping past swollen lips. Dani pauses, taking in Jamie’s murmured inquiry. Jamie is unable to hide the faintest hint of self-doubt in her voice. It makes the last wall crumble; it makes Dani want to cry again, damnit.

Dani nods, swallowing. She leans in again to nip at Jamie’s lips once more. “Yeah,” she breathes. “Yes. Please.”

I need you.

I want you.

I missed you.

Her unspoken words fall away into the nothingness—and for once, it is a nothingness that she is comfortable with because the nothingness only highlights that she is with Jamie and Jamie is with her and nothing else matters.

Jamie gently cups the back of Dani’s head, tongue slipping into Dani’s mouth as she goes. With further tenderness, Jamie rolls Dani to her back, keeping a sure hold on her as she goes. Breathless, Dani longs to pull Jamie further into her, but there is no more space between them, not even air and yet—

(damn clothes)

“—Off,” Dani mumbles as best as she can between heated kisses. “Take it off.”

Jamie huffs, something akin to a laugh, and begins kissing at Dani’s neck, nipping and sucking with gradual intensity. She pushes at the bottom of Dani’s shirt, lifting it so painstakingly slow. Her hands follow the path of the shirt even as she stops pushing the shirt up. Slowly, oh so slowly, Jamie’s hand finally reaches the curve of Dani’s breast, hesitating for the briefest of moments before Jamie’s palm rests atop a straining nipple.

Dani exhales loudly, her head tipping back. Jamie does nothing for a long moment. Cherishing. Lingering. Remembering. Her lips move languidly across Dani’s skin, but she does not move her hand as Dani begins to shift restlessly beneath her. Her hands weave through soft damp curls at the back of Jamie’s head, somehow more unruly than before, and she is immediately, once again mesmerized by the texture and the ease with which she can touch her lover.

It is easy, like breathing—something that Dani remembers how to do, but for the first time in a while, it feels like she can do so freely. Breathe easy. Breathe freely.

In and out.

As easy as breathing.

Being with Jamie is as easy as breathing; as easy as existing; as easy as both breathing and existing when both those things were so hard not too long ago.

When Dani opens her eyes again, she is so present and so grounded that she startles at the clarity with which she is perceiving the moment. A soft, wanting gasp leaves her lips as she pulls Jamie in for another searing kiss, this time taking measures to roll Jamie onto her back, tucking their bodies as close to the center of the bed as she can.

Jamie makes a noise of surprise, head falling back against the pillow before Dani is kissing her eagerly once more. Freely. Messily. The rest comes easily, as natural as it was the first time. Something visceral claws within Dani’s chest, entirely needy and wanton as her skin brushes against Jamie’s fully. She gasps, hot and desperate against Jamie’s neck as she rocks experimentally down against Jamie’s thigh. Dani grabs at the sheets, the pillows, Jamie’s hair—anything to ground herself in the moment.

But that moment quickly bleeds into the next and she lets her hand wander as it pleases, delighting in Jamie’s pleased sounds and broken gasps. It is a reaction that Dani wants to elicit again and again until they’ve both exhausted themselves. Like the first night. And more nights to come.

Dani stifles a quiet moan of her own, slipping her fingers down past the plane of Jamie’s stomach—further, further—

“Yes,” Jamie murmurs softly, then louder, “Dani, please—”

It is the choked-off moan that does it for Dani, really. Her cheeks flood with heat and warmth and she clenches—hot and wet around nothing—at the wanton display of need.

She could spend the rest of her life doing this. How had she wasted time doing anything else? How had she bothered to live her life not knowing what Jamie looked like or sounded like with Dani’s fingers teasing at her clit, regardless of how clumsy or awkward Dani feels about it?

Slowly, she slips her fingers through hot, wet folds, careful in her ministrations. Dani tries to recall every single thing they did together that first night, but the memory feels more like an echo or an impression of a memory rather than a clear image. She does not despair. The thought of making new memories excites Dani—feels her chest with something infinitely more than dread.

It is hope.

Her fingers move.

Love.

Jamie whimpers.

Joy.

“Fuck,” Dani whispers, nearly silent. She tries again, louder, punctuating the word with a steady thrust of her fingers. The movement feels natural and when Jamie tenses around her so wantonly—

“Don’t stop,” Jamie mumbles. “I need you to—“ she cuts herself off with a gasp, a knee bending, her back arching—all to take Dani’s fingers in deeper as she curls her fingers experimentally.

It’s then that Dani feels another shift in her mind. She stares with open desire and wonder, looking down at Jamie’s flushed face. Unbidden, a memory of Jamie guiding her hand up her back. Jamie encouraging her always. Jamie wanting her and wanting Dani to want her back no matter what.

God, Dani wants her.

She wants her girlfriend and there isn’t a thing stopping her. Not either of their demons. Not what Dani fears lives inside her.

So she wants, and wants, and wants. The wanting—the sheer act of primal desire—warms Dani like a flame the begins somewhere in her belly and rises up to her forehead. Down to her toes. And oh—how it threatens to spill out of her.

She cracks herself open then and lets her desire run over.

Dani grabs Jamie’s hand, guiding it between her own legs. She lips her tongue into Jamie’s mouth to stifle the knowing chuckle that’s bound to slip past Jamie’s lips.

All that can come later. For now, she wants nothing more than to feel the gentle dampness on their skin, slow build of sweat along their foreheads; she wants nothing more than the rhythmic sound of the bed; she wants nothing more than to want and be wanted because it is better than being lost to the recesses of her own mind.

If Dani could say all this aloud in some way, she would. She could. But as Jamie's breath ghosts down her collarbone, hand curling around her hip, Dani finds that she does not need to say anything at all because she has everything she might ever need within her grasp.

Like benediction—a reprieve from all that has transpired—Jamie's name falls from her lips like a mantra; Jamie's name falls from her lips like she's forgotten her own name and quite honestly, she isn't sure that she would want it any other way. 

 * * * * *

 Dani wakes to the sight of Jamie’s face. Her eyes track slowly across every last inch of skin available to her. Jamie’s nose. Her lips. The golden hues of sunlight glancing off errant curls.

Inside Dani, she is warm. All is quiet and still as the morning air around them. She is sure the silence won’t last - it never does - but for once she does not feel dread or the urge to shiver.

She longs to wake Jamie, if only to see her eyes again, but she settles

One day at a time, as long as she gets this for the rest of her days.

fin.

[rpgsandbox]

Dearest Balin,

Almost six years have passed already since the last time you were here. I remember very well everything you and Gandalf said when we met. You were alarmed, and I took your warnings at heart, but I don’t think you would find it surprising to know that news of a nameless threat is hard to believe here in the dear old Shire. Gandalf came to see me again, on several occasions. He seems to care about our friendship, and he says I should indeed be worried, but his vague words of warning hardly make even less of a dent in the general sense of peace and protection that we enjoy here, away in the north-west.

But don’t think that I am completely clueless! All I need to know is to have a look at… the stuff I collected in my adventures to remember that there is a wide and dangerous world out there. Sometimes I even miss it, the road, the thrill, the narrow escapes. It’s my Tookish side. But then I look at my beautiful garden, my snapdragons and sunflowers, my trailing nasturtians… how they glow, red and golden, more beautiful than any Dragon-hoard that ever was, and I am back to being a Baggins.

I hope that what I say won’t be too much of a disappointment to you. You haven’t asked yet, but I know that you mean to invite me to join you in that Moria adventure you are always talking about. I am afraid that I have spent enough time crawling in the dark under the Misty Mountains not to wish to do that ever again! But there’s a good bunch of eager lads and lasses here that you might find to your liking. Why, they are just waiting for no more than a nod in their direction from me or from our Grey friend to go off into the blue for mad adventures! Theirs is an age that is more appropriate to that type of business, believe me,  and I have taught them a thing or two. I suspect that Gandalf has too...

From a letter from Bilbo Baggins, Esq. to Balin son of Fundin

“This is the Master-ring, the One Ring to rule them all.”

The One Ring™ is a roleplaying game based on The Hobbit™ and The Lord of the Rings™, two extraordinary works of fiction by the beloved author and respected academic, John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, published in partnership with Sophisticated Games.

First released in 2011, its award-winning design was hailed as the best attempt at bringing Middle-earth to the gaming table to date, thanks to its thematic rules and painstaking attention to detail. For 10 years, players of the game have traveled far and wide across Middle-earth, adventuring for multiple decades of game time.

Today, it is time for the game to enter a new era – this new edition of The One Ring brings players further into the Twilight of the Third Age with a new hardbound volume, presenting:

A set of updated and streamlined rules, developed thanks to years of players’ feedback and raising the game to the standards of quality that have made Free League so popular.

A new setting to experience – the Lone-lands of Eriador in the year is 2965 of the Third Age. This is a vast land that once saw the glory of the North Kingdom of the Dúnedain.

A complete visual redesign of art and graphics, offering a view of Middle-earth that is fresh and familiar at the same time.

                                Sample Spreads (Work in Progress)

“The Enemy still lacks one thing to give him strength and knowledge to beat down all resistance, break the last defences, and cover all the lands in a second darkness. He lacks the One Ring.”

The One Ring is set in the Twilight of the Third Age, a time-frame comprising the events narrated in The Hobbit™ and the start of The Lord of the Rings™. Encompassing more than six decades, this period is ushered in when Bilbo the Hobbit finds the Ruling Ring, and culminates with the war fought by the Free Peoples against the Dark Lord Sauron, and the destruction of the Ring.

The year is 2965 of the Third Age, and the players create a Company of heroes, Hobbits, Dwarves, Elves and Men seeking adventure in the Lone-lands of Eriador. It is a desolate country, a vast land that once saw the glory of the North Kingdom of the Dúnedain, the Men of the West. Here, many wars were fought, and countless ruins dot its landscape. Shadows move along its paths, and not all of them belong to the living. It is here that the One Ring lies, a seed of the past that will one day lead the world to open war against the returning Shadow.

This edition of The One Ring moves the focus of the game to the lands of Old Arnor, with a full description of the town of Bree and the surrounding areas, including famous locales like Weathertop, Fornost and Annuminas, providing the players with a new starting point for their adventures.

The Enemy is moving, and smoke issues once more from Mount Doom, in the land of Mordor...

“… you have been chosen, and you must therefore use such strength and heart and wits as you have.”

In The One Ring, players create individuals who led an ordinary life until something made them realize that they were simply pretending that shadows weren’t growing nearer and nearer every year. They are not soldiers or mercenaries, nor are they subtle Wizards trying to weave the threads spun by fate: they are adventurous souls representing the various Free Peoples opposing the return of the Shadow.

The core gameplay of The One Ring revolves around two alternate phases — the Adventuring Phase and the Fellowship Phase. This structure follows the deeds of the players not only geographically, as they explore the land in pursuit of their goals, but also chronologically, as time passes and the Twilight of the Third Age enfolds.

The game mechanics have been created from the ground up to match the source material and emulate the action as depicted in The Lord of the Rings™ and The Hobbit™. They feature a set of custom dice, but the game can also be played using a standard set including a 12-sided die and at least six 6-sided dice. The accessibility and elegance of the system fits in perfectly with other games by Free League.

This new edition of the game further reinforces the connection between its mechanics and the stories that inspired them. The rules for things like hero creation or the use of Hope have been tweaked to make the game run smoothly without sacrificing their faithfulness to the sources, while those for Journeys and Councils, for example, have been completely redesigned. New rules, like those for Magical die results, have been added to evoke elements that are vital to the theme of the game, like the subtle magic of Middle-earth.

The new edition will be compatible with modules for the first edition, requiring only minor tweaking.

Created for the first time for this edition of the game, the Starter Set contains everything you need to start playing, and more! Focused on the Shire, this set allows for new players to enter the world of Middle-earth from the land of the Hobbits, where all the stories began. A number of pre-generated characters allow players to take the road to adventure in no time. The boxed set, mainly written by seasoned RPG writer James Spahn, includes:

Condensed rules, including everything you need to start playing in Middle-earth.

An adventure compendium, presenting a number of adventures to be played using the pre-generated characters contained in the box.

Pre-generated characters of esteemed Hobbits like Drogo Baggins, Paladin Took, Primula Brandybuck or Lobelia Baggins, and more.

  The One Ring Starter Set – Contents Added as Stretch Goals are Unlocked

We know that many of you have been enjoying roleplaying in Middle-earth using the fifth edition ruleset in the Adventures in Middle-Earth. We are working on a new edition for the 5E rules as well – but it is not part of this Kickstarter. More information about this will follow in the months to come.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Thu, March 4 2021 8:00 PM UTC +00:00

Website: [Free League Publishing] [facebook] [twitter] [instagram]

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Final Fantasy III Review

Year: 1990

Original Platform: Famicom

Also Available on: Nintendo DS, iOS (DS port), Android (iOS port), Ouya (Android port), Steam (Android port), PSP (iOS port)

Wii/3DS/Wii U Virtual Consoles and Nintendo Classic Edition releases are only in Japan.

Version I Played: DS

Synopsis:

Four orphans (originally only named by the player, DS remake gives them names) fall into a crevice after a sudden earthquake. There, a mysterious crystal warns them about the oncoming darkness that will engulf the world. The four orphans must band together to restore the balance between light and dark.  

Gameplay:

ARE YOU READY TO GET YOUR ASS BEAT?

YOUR BALLS ROCKED?

I’m warning you – this is the most difficult Final Fantasy game to date.

There are no ethers - only elixirs, which you should definitely reserve for the hardest battles. Also, phoenix downs cannot be found in stores - only in treasure chests and as dropped or stolen items from enemies.

The gameplay returns to that of the original Final Fantasy –  turn-based combat and the Job System, only this time the Job System is greatly expanded. Vikings and Geomancers and Bards and Dragoons and the list goes on. Summons are introduced to the series via the Evoker job, which later gets upgraded to Summoner. The expanded Job System allowed for greater customization of your four characters than in the original Final Fantasy.

This game is notable for the Onion Knight. In the beginning of the original Famicom game, the default job is Onion Knight. If you continue playing as an Onion Knight, your stats remain relatively low. However, if you dare to play the entire game as an Onion Knight and reach level 99 – the Onion Knight suddenly turns into the most powerful job in the game.

The DS remake does things a little differently. Instead of the Onion Knight, you start out as a Freelancer – a new job that has a little bit of everything. However, the longer you use the Freelancer job, the weaker you become. This is a good incentive to have players naturally explore other jobs.

The unfortunate feature of the DS remake though is that the Onion Knight is ONLY available after performing sidequests via wireless with friends. This is impossible to do now since the wireless features for the original Nintendo DS (and also the Wii) have been discontinued. HOWEVER. Playing the DS remake through Steam allows you to unlock the Onion Knight by completing at least 25% of your bestiary. You will then receive a message via the Mognet to start the sidequest.

Final Fantasy III is notorious for its high difficulty. The trick mostly lies in constantly switching between jobs and finding the right balance for the right moment. However, changing jobs requires you to level up that job. This means grinding – lots and lots of grinding. Insane amounts of grinding. This is Final Fantasy: Grind City.

In retrospect, Final Fantasy II was hard as well, yes, but more in a stupid way. Leveling up there was annoying but people could find tricks around it like finding weaker enemies and purposely hitting yourself and healing yourself to raise your HP or defense stats.

Final Fantasy III is difficult but it hurt so good. This game turned me into a masochist. There's two types of video game rage - the good and the bad kind. The bad kind is usually because the game's mechanics are irritating or virtually unplayable. The good kind is cursing out loud but then saying, "I'LL GET YOU NEXT TIME!" and actually being pumped about trying again because you see it as a challenge.    

The game has an explosively difficult finale. The finale takes place in the Crystal Tower, which is surrounded by Ancient’s Maze. You have to walk through the maze, then through the tower, then fight multiple bosses through other events which I won’t spoil here. The entire ordeal can pretty well take up an entire hour. At least (in the DS version, I don’t know about Famicom) you can save before entering the Crystal Tower. But if you ever need to venture out into the world map again to get something you forgot, you have to go through the Ancient’s Maze. Once you enter the Crystal Tower, you cannot save the game. It’s one long shot to the final of final bosses. In the Crystal Tower, you get to walk around seemingly endless and maze-like floors such as this:

 YAY.

Seriously though - I still enjoyed the challenge and thought it was epic. If you're going to hit me hard, you might as well go all out. Nothing in this game is held back. Also, the expanded job system allowed you to try out so many different things.

I tried for the longest time to play Final Fantasy III on an emulator but for some bizarre reason, I couldn't save, not even on save states. When I have the time, I definitely want to go back to that, try a different ROM or something, and experience the original. But I played enough of the original to know how hard it is. I died right away when I ventured outside the first town.

The DS remake mostly retains the difficulty of the original, which I admired, unlike the watered down PSP Anniversary Editions of Final Fantasy and Final Fantasy II.

Graphics:

The original Famicom game definitely has a lot more going on than the first two Final Fantasy games. Battles are still 90% black space but the rest of the game is 8-bit Heaven. 

The DS remake is AMAZING. I would argue that Final Fantasy III DS is really the first great Final Fantasy remake. They got a chibi thing going on and it works here. It’s cute without being obnoxiously cute.

The FMV sequence for the DS is staggeringly beautiful.

I also kind of laugh at this one part where Luneth and Ingus are arguing and it’s the equivalent to a stock photo of two people arguing.

I only wish they added an ending FMV. That would have been the cherry on top for the remake. 

Story:

Final Fantasy III is kind of like crossing the original Final Fantasy with Final Fantasy II. The story is wider in scope and more epic. The fictional world is much more interesting. The score has a wider repertoire. You fly many different airships. It also begins what I like to call the "Crystal Trilogy." Final Fantasy III, IV and V, as you'll read later, are quite similar in their general plot, which utilizes crystals as important plot devices.

There’s more to the story than people give credit for. You venture into the world and run into secondary characters who have their own stories, such as Cid, Desh, Princess Sara (reference to the original Final Fantasy), Prince Allus, Priestess Aria, and even four imposters of the four heroes of light. You save towns with a variety of problems, from a village cursed by a genie to finding a missing precious stone for the dwarves. Then you discover the truth behind the world you live in. . .

The DS version elaborates on the story by giving the four orphans names: Luneth, Arc, Refia, and Ingus. This sharpens the story by connecting more dots. The DS story starts with Luneth and Arc as childhood friends. They later meet Refia, a runaway who was tired of her guardian's blacksmith trade, and Ingus, a knight of Sasune who protects Princess Sara. I was disappointed by one rather misleading thing in the DS remake. The opening FMV sequence seemed to imply that Priestess Aria plays a wider role in the story – she doesn’t. That disappointed me.

As I’ve said already, the DS version is a wonderful remake of the original. I very highly recommend it. It enhances everything about the original and more. The remake's heroes hardly get any recognition in other Final Fantasy media and that’s a shame.

Music:

As Final Fantasy games keep getting bigger, so does the score. Uematsu shone here. He did some unique things for a Japanese composer at the time. An example is the illusion of having chords in the track Crystal Cave.

Final Fantasy III’s soundtrack is twice as long as Final Fantasy II’s. I’d say that out of the entire Famicom/NES era, this game probably has the best soundtrack. The battle theme has a sexy bass with more drums added to it. Eternal Wind, the world map theme, is definitely the greatest map theme in an RPG. Period. It truly gives the feel of wandering around a fantasy world.

The DS version reinvigorates the entire score. I loved every second of it.

The way Uematsu composed the final of the epilogue is reminiscent of how John Williams does his finales in the credits for Star Wars or Indiana Jones films. In this case, he references the Final Fantasy Main Theme at the end of the credits.

The result is a wholesome feel to the game. Final Fantasy III has a fantastic score that is perfect for closing the 8-bit era of Final Fantasy.

Notable Theme:

I'm split between Eternal Wind and Priestess Aria's Theme. Fortunately, the DS opening cinematic includes both. It has a great orchestrated rendition of the classic themes.

Verdict:      

The hardest out of all the Final Fantasy games (so far). At the same time, there’s so much to enjoy – but it’s not for everyone. Because of the difficulty, I would save this game for last. There’s something about this game that actually gives me a true “final fantasy” feel. The final stretch is so kick-your-nuts-hard that nothing else in the series can compare to it.

If you go for the DS version, however, that can be a tad bit easier. Just a tad. A smidge. Nothing more. It’s one remake that I highly recommend. They did a good facelift on both the game itself and the story. The DS version was adapted into Android and then ported into Steam, so you can get it there. 

Direct Sequel?

No.

[imagineredwood]

Request: You’re Juice’s Old Lady and you find out you’re pregnant. You’re excited to tell but when you do, he gets scared about being a father and he bails on you. You end up moving away and decide to raise the baby by yourself. When your water finally breaks, you end up delivering a boy, but you end up flat lining twice before doctors manage to bring you back. Juice hears about this and comes back begging for forgiveness and a chance to raise his son alongside you

Pairing: Juice Ortiz x reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, emotional hurt, abandonment, heartbreak, death(technically)

Word count: 4.5k

***This one is a little shorter since my other request with Juice and the unknown baby has a lot of similarities and I didn’t want to overlap ❤️ I also didn’t want to make this a quick jumping back into relationship thing since the request didn’t ask for it. I’m leaving it open to interpretation so that y’all can pick which ever ending you prefer.***

You looked down at the positive pregnancy test with tearful eyes, a watery laugh falling from your lips. Who knew that two little pink lines could evoke such emotion in you? You couldn’t say for sure, but if your math was right then you were about six weeks along. It wasn’t much, your tummy not looking any different, the baby the size of a mere sweet pea, and yet there was an overwhelming sense of joy that came over you. Your brain was flooded with thoughts of baby clothes and nurseries, baby bottles and onesies and your smile was ear to ear. With your heart beating a mile a minute, you left the bathroom and went into the bedroom. Your eyes fluttered closed and you willed yourself to relax some. At least enough to go over into the living room where Juice was sat watching TV and show him.

Neither of you had been planning for it, this pregnancy likely to be as much of a surprise to him as it had just been for you, but it was still a beautiful thing and you were sure he was going to agree. Taking a series more of deep breathes, you calmed your nerves some and looked down at your tummy.

“Let’s go tell daddy.”

Your feet were soft as they padded across the floor until Juice came into view, shirtless and only in sweats as he laid across the couch. He had one arm crossed behind his head and the other resting across his own stomach. Your smile was soft as you looked over the man that you loved. You had heard all the warnings beforehand, about how Old Men were never held to the same standard as the Old Ladies. How they never committed as much as their Old Lady did. How it was often one-sided. Juice had proven all those warnings wrong rather quickly. He was been near perfect from the beginning, always having been considerate and attentive, respectful and committed. He had been as close to the perfect Old Man as you felt you were ever going to get, and the thought of beginning a family with him was filling you with joy. You smiled brighter as you walked up to the couch to give him the news. In a way, you wanted to do a cute gift to reveal the surprise, but your happiness was too overwhelming and telling him as soon as possible was your choice.

You walked around the front of the couch and Juice smiled as you came into view, his hand reaching out to stroke against the skin of your passing thigh. Pulling his legs in some so you could sit beside him on the couch, his tired and heavy eyes stayed on you. Your happiness was palpable, and he tapped his knee against you.

“What’s got you so smiley?”

Your grin only stretched further, and your hand jutted out to hand him the pregnancy test.

He looked down at the white stick and his smile dropped immediately. You laughed softly, what you perceived as shock amusing to you at that moment. His eyes shot back over to you and any traces of tiredness were gone now. In place of the sleepy heaviness was now a pure panic and he tossed his legs back over the front of the couch, sitting up straight now. He took the test for your hand none too gently and peered down at it. You watched him with your smile still in place, waiting for the moment when the shock cleared up and the happiness set in. His words caught you off guard.

“This is a joke, right? Please tell me this is a prank.”

His eyes were burning into yours as he looked for any trace of humor. When he came up empty, he turned his body toward you more, his voice louder, more frantic now.

“Baby tell me this is a prank. Chibs and the guys put you up to this to fuck with me, right?”

The smile on your lips slowly slipped away as you realized that he really didn’t believe it, but it wasn’t innocent disbelief. This was a hopeful denial and your heart started to rattle, feeling like it was going to drop any second.

“No, Juan baby, it’s real. I took a bunch, the rest are in the bathroom. This is just the clearest one. I’m pregnant.”

Your smile returned only a little in hope. The shaking of his head made it fade once more though. His body shooting up from the couch and starting to pace as he clamped his hands down on his head only made your stomach sink more. Your voice was small as your joy slipped away and an overwhelming fear started to bubble up in its place.

“Babe…”

He was silent for an agonizing 10 seconds before he abruptly stopped pacing and faced you.

“We can’t have a kid. We can’t.”

Your eyes were narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him.

“What do you mean, ‘we can’t’? We are Juice. I’m pregnant, I swear.”

The Son shook his head furiously then.  

“No, you’re not understanding. I’m not ready to be a dad. The club is a mess, we’ve got all these new deals coming up, I barely have my own shit together. How the fuck am I supposed to be a dad? How am I supposed to look after and help raise a kid when I don’t even look after myself well enough. Being a dad isn’t for me. It’s just,”

He shook his head quickly, more to himself than to you as his eyes peered at the floor. When they did finally look up at you, you could see that he wasn’t reasoning with you. He was informing you. He spoke it again though, just in case you weren’t getting it.

“I’m not ready to be a dad. I can’t be a dad.”

Your heart shattered and you had to force your voice to stay level despite the tightening in your throat as you tried to keep it together.

“Can’t, or won’t?”

At the pain in your voice, Juice sighed and took three long steps until he was in front of you. He dropped down to kneel in front of you, his hands reaching to grasp onto your bare knees as you sat there in front of him.

“I love you, baby. I love you. But I just can’t do it.”

You stared down at him and didn’t bother to hold the tears in anymore. They splashed down your cheeks, heavy drops leaving streaks down your skin.

“I’m not getting rid of my child.”

Your sentence was simple and to the point. Him being scared didn’t mean you were going to abandon the life you were carrying. Juice understood and nodded solemnly.

“I know. I would never ask you to do that, but I,”

He stopped, the words tasting bitter and burning his mouth like acid. He knew the pain he would cause to say them to you, but he hadn’t ever lied to you before and he wasn’t going to start now.

“You’ll be an amazing mother.”

Those words were the softest he could make them, the least painful way he could muster his rejection and still it felt as if you had been stabbed. There was a searing pain in your chest, your stomach twisted up into knots so tight it felt like your lungs couldn’t expand. You were blinded by tears and looked down at your lap in shock, Juice’s grip on your knees so tight your skin puffed out around his fingers.

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking your head, you pushed his hands off you and stood, walking hurriedly back into the bedroom, Juice still kneeling in place with his eyes glued to the ground. You went into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, staring at your unraveling reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red-rimmed and teary, wet streaks down the skin of your cheeks. Your throat ached from holding in the tears and you quickly threw both hands over your mouth as the sobs finally started to escape you. You sank down to the floor, hands trying to conceal the anguished cries that wouldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried. Tears poured down your face and you hiccupped, vaguely registering the sound of Juice moving around in the bedroom. You could hear the drawers opening and closing and the visual of him packing a bag to stay at the clubhouse brought on a fresh wave of tears.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there weeping but when the tears finally stopped and your breathing leveled itself out, you were able to hear that there was no more noise coming from the bedroom, or anywhere in the house for that matter. It was utter silence save for the distant sound of a lawnmower down the street. You stood on shaky legs and spared a glance at yourself in the mirror. You looked even worse than before and used a trembling hand to turn the faucet. Splashing water on your face and cleaning the dried tears from your face, you stood and used the towel to dry, not even bothering to give yourself a once over in the mirror. You were feeling enough of the pain, you didn’t need to see it too. You unlocked the door and opened it, stepping out into the bedroom that you had shared with Juice for years now. You had always thought that the bond that you had was unbreakable. That the love you shared could withstand anything. How wrong you had been.

Looking into the closet, you saw some of his clothes missing, no doubt him having packed up to give you time. With a new numbness washing over you, you reached into the closet yourself and pulled out your overnight bags and luggage. You were sure that he would spend a couple of days over at the clubhouse and you wanted to make sure that when he returned, both you and anything that ever showed proof of you living there would be gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

You cursed as you tapped your hand against the copy machine, frustrated beyond belief. You were eight and half months pregnant and everything seemed to bother you, but this copy machine had quickly become your arch enemy over the last week and you daydreamed about tossing it out of the third story window. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself, the shrill beep from the machine not allowing it. Looking down, you read the screen stating there was an error.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

There was a quiet laugh from behind you and you turned to see your favorite coworker Aiko standing with a grin. She walked the rest of the way to you, her jet-black hair hanging down in her face as she looked at the screen as well.

“I don’t know why they won’t buy a new one and get rid of this piece of shit. It’s not like they don’t have the money.”

You both laughed, knowing it was true. Multi-million-dollar company and they refused to replace failing equipment. You tried the machine once again and groaned as you got the same message. Aiko snatched the paper from your hand and tossed it into the trash bin beside the machine, wrapping her arm around your waist as best she could and starting to walk with you.

“Just forward it to me and I’ll have someone from the other department print it off.  Stop worrying about simple stuff. No need to stress out the little one here.”

She smiled brightly and leaned down slightly to coo at your tummy, sticking out and stretching your blouse. You smiled in return and continued walking with her until you both got to your cubicle. She leaned against the side as you sat down and looked down at your swollen ankles. Rolling your foot, you blew out a thankful breath, happy to be off your feet. Aiko tapped her hand on the wall and motioned out the window with her hand.

“You wanna just go ahead and take lunch with me now?”

Looking at your watch, you nodded with a shrug.

“Yeah, why not. It takes me an extra five minutes just to get down to the lobby anyway.”

Grabbing your bag and standing from your chair, you walked with Aiko down the hallway, offering smiles to coworkers who grinned at you and your pronounced bump. You took the elevator and made it down to the lobby, Aiko walking ahead of you some.

“You stay here, I’ll go get my car from the garage and pick you up.”

You knew better than to argue with her, yourself falling on the losing side every time. Not waiting for your response, she jogged out of the lobby, heading to the parking garage while you gave a yawn, your hunger finally announcing itself. You stood patiently as you waited, looking up and watching the birds fly in the sky with a smile. A sharp pain in your abdomen pulled your attention though and you leaned forward some, steadying yourself. Just as suddenly as it had arrived, the pain went away and you blew out a breath, standing back up straight. Your hand went to your tummy, rubbing gently but it did nothing to soothe the next pulse of pain, this one enough to have you doubling over. You rested your hands on your knees and braced yourself, your breaths coming quicker from the pain. The ache lasted longer this time and then went away momentarily, only to come back twice as bad. You dropped your purse down onto the ground beside you, your eyes closing as you tried to relax. The scene pulled the attention of two coworkers from the other department who jogged over to you. The older gentleman wrapped and arm around yours for support while the young new hire picked up your purse and clenched it in his hands, wide-eyed.

“You alright, ma’am?”

You nodded but said nothing, only for a sudden wetness to suddenly wash down your legs. It dripped down and pooled at your feet much to the horror of the new guy, who gasped and had to lean against the brick wall for support.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

Roger, who was much older and had four kids of his own hushed him.

“Relax. Everything’s fine, we just gotta get you into the hospital. Where’s your car?”

You pointed over into the garage, Aiko now visible as she pulled out of the exit.

“My friend was coming to pick me up.”

Seeing you doubled over, she rushed across the street, tires squealing. She was hopping out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop and running around to the other side where you were. She placed her hands on you immediately, leaning down to get eye level with you.

“Are you good, babe? What’s- “

She stopped as she saw the puddle on the cement beneath your feet and started to laugh excitedly.

“Oh my god, he’s coming. Shitty timing when we were gonna go get pizza but he’s coming!”

Wrapping her arm around your shoulders she helped you to the front seat, ordering the younger coworker to go to the trunk.

“Go get the bag that’s in there! Bring it to us.”

The ashen young man hurried to the back of the car and grabbed the bag before closing it and holding it out.

“Get out the towel.”

He nodded and followed her instructions, pulling the towel out of the bag and placing it onto the seat. Aiko helped you get in and put on the seatbelt for you, closing the door behind you and running around to the driver’s side, yelling at the two men as she did.

“Tell them we’re gonna miss the meeting at 2!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Aiko paced around the waiting room as she thought. She has thought that everything was going to go smoothly. She’d thought that you would deliver your son and be happy, enjoying your new child with your best friend at your side. Instead, things had gone wrong almost immediately when you were both in the delivery room. Your pains became sharper and sharper until they were unbearable. She could see you drifting in and out of it until suddenly you went still, and the heart monitor went from its pronounced beeping to one flat running tone. It was all a blur then, the nurses rushing her out as they started to work on you, the doctor shouting for a hemorrhage kit. It was pure chaos that broke out and now there she was, hands trembling as she walked back and forth, your phone in her hand. She looked down at it, her wheels turning.

When she had first met you, you both had clicked immediately. You had just moved into town and the fact that you were pregnant told her that whatever you had come from was a less than savory situation. She had taken you under her wing then, helping you get the new job, a nicer place, going to your appointments with you. She had taken on the role that Juice would have played, had he been man enough to stick around and care for the life he helped create.  

‘I’ll be the daddy, fuck him.’

That was something that she had always said, both because she meant it and because she knew it made you laugh. There were plenty of nights though where the humor and jokes melted away and it was just raw pain as you leaned on her, explaining the life that you had once had at the side of a Son. She was a bit more understanding then. No way in hell would she ever like Juice, but the background answered many questions. It was one night filled with rain and tears where she had brought up the offer and you had agreed reluctantly.

If anything ever happened to you or the baby, she was allowed to call Gemma and let her know. Juice may have fucked up, but the rest of SAMCRO was still your family and you understood that it would be fair for them to know. Aiko had made the pact with you and had joked that it was a nice clause, but it wouldn’t be needed. Now as she stood there though, worry consuming her after them having to revive you twice already, she knew that hypothetical plan was going to become a reality.

Unlocking your phone, she searched through your contacts and held her finger over Gemma’s name. She hesitated but then clicked it anyway, bringing it up to her ear as it rang. The woman’s voice had a slight rasp but happiness as it came from the other side, excited to see that you were calling her.

“Long time, no talk. How’re you doing baby?”

Aiko swallowed and stammered slightly as she responded.

“Hi, I’m her friend actually, she wanted me to call you. We’re in the hospital. Something went wrong.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~```

You smiled down at your son as you held him in the rocking chair, Aiko sitting beside you, her long nails running over his arm softly. You both sat in silence, exhausted from the day’s events. It had been a rough delivery and you had been out with no recollection of most of it. An emergency cesarean had been the best choice and that was how your son had come into the world. Despite the complications that you had had, he was perfectly healthy. He was bright and energetic, loved from the start, and he looked just like his daddy. Your first look at him was like looking down at Juice and even Aiko had seen the resemblance from photos you had shown her.

You knew she had called Gemma like you both had agreed on and she was on her way with Juice. To be fair, once you had recovered in the hospital you had wondered if it was necessary. You were better now, having mostly recovered as far as any complications went. Now it was just healing from the c-section. You were on your first week of maternity leave now and even Aiko had used her saved up week of vacation to be at home with you to help look after you. Leaving you alone wasn’t an option and she had been there for the last two days since you’d been discharged, sleeping in the spare room to be around whenever you needed her. Gemma had agreed that it would be best to give you a couple of days to settle in before they came down.

Part of you didn’t want Juice to be able to see him. He didn’t deserve to get to hold the precious child he had turned his back on, but it wasn’t about you anymore, nor was it about him. It was about your son and what was best for him. Getting to at least meet his dad was only fair. If Gemma’s timing was right, they would be here shortly.

While you waited, you put the baby to sleep and sat in the kitchen while Aiko made lunch.  You both talked and ate, laughing and joking, only stopping when you were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. You both looked away from each other and hesitated, Aiko standing and holding her hand out to stop you.

“I’ll get it, just relax.”

With a nod, you allowed her to get the door and she disappeared. You could hear the door opening, voices quietly talking, followed by footsteps and before long, you were looking at two faces you weren’t sure you were ever going to see again.

Gemma was wearing a bright smile while Juice looked terrified. You leaned forward to get up, pressing against you bandage across your abdomen as you did. Aiko quickly came to stand by your side, helping you up into standing. He held you for a moment longer, making sure that you were entirely stable before she released you and motioned to both Gemma and Juice. Gemma stepped forward first, taking you into her arms gently, being careful with you. She left a kiss to your forehead and looked into your eyes.

“I missed you, sweetheart. Jax sends all his love. Nero too.”

At that you smiled, a sense of longing and nostalgia coming over you as you remembered the people who were your family. Even the time and distance hadn’t changed that. Pulling away, she smiled at Aiko and motioned for her to come with her to the living room. Your friend hesitated, eyes on you to make sure that you were ok with being alone. Once she received a nod from you, she relented and went with Gemma, leaving only you and your ex Old Man standing silently in the kitchen. He was the first one to speak, his eyes locked with yours.

“Hi.”

You weren’t sure if it was the hormones, but you had the urge to throw something at him then. After all he had done, that was the first thing that he said? Your lack of a response spoke volumes and he dropped his head then, shaking it.

“I’m really fucking sorry.”

The fact he could barely look at you showed that he was disappointed in himself and that meant something. Your voice was tired when you spoke.

“Juice.”

He looked up quickly, eyes wide.

“Come sit.”

You motioned to the table where you had just been sitting and he quickly walked over. He reached out for you as you tried to sit and despite the irritation he could see you display, he grabbed you anyway, one hand on your back and the other on your arm as he helped you get into the chair safely. He then went and sat down himself, hands fidgeting as he clasped them together on the top. There was silence for a while before he finally started talking.

“I know that there isn’t ever gonna be anything that I can say that will make up for what I did. I abandoned you and our kid, and nothing will ever fix that. Nothing will make that right. I was wrong, and I was stupid, and I was scared, and I forced you to have to deal with that. You had to deal with my insecurities, and I won’t ever be able to tell you how sorry I am.”

His voice broke toward the end and no matter how shitty what he did was, it still brought a frown to your face. You stayed quiet though and let him continue. After taking a deep breath, he did.

“I was fucking stupid. I never thought that I would find someone that would be worth having a family with, then I found you and I was so scared that it was coming true I didn’t know what to do. I’m a fuck up. I’ve always been a fuck up. Half the time I didn’t know why you ever bothered with me, but you did. I just didn’t want to fuck up being a dad. I felt like the kid deserved better. I thought you deserved better. God knows you deserved even better now. I want to be there though. I want to get to know him. I want to help you. I wanna be there when he tries new foods or when his teeth come in or when he starts drawing. I want to be there for him. I don’t want…I don’t want to be like my dad.”

His eyes held tears and he brushed them away roughly.

“I know I started this shit like him, but I swear to you that I’m not gonna finish it like that. I get that you probably hate me and don’t want anything to do with me. I get that. I just hope that you can forgive me. I just really want to get to know my son. I want to help raise him. I won’t fight you on anything. I just wanna be there. Here. Wherever. I just want my family. Please.”

He was begging by the end, something you had never seen him do before. He was pleading for a second chance and even if you weren’t sold for yourself, you knew that he would make things right with your son. You took a deep breath, your own emotions on a roller coaster as you looked at him, his hands trembling as he awaited your response. Blowing out the breath, you sighed and motioned for him to come over and help you stand. He jumped up quickly and helped you back out of the chair.

“Follow me.”

He listened and fell in line behind you, following you as you walked to the nursery. You used your hand to motion to the crib and he looked at you wide-eyed. Finding a smile, you pushed him gently forward.

“Go meet your son.”

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Hey there, I'm not sure if you're taking requesting ATM. But if you are, I would love to see something with Ahk x reader. I was thinking, with remnants how you mentioned them just showing up one day at Larry's with Ahk mortal. But instead Ahk shows up at YOUR place in the middle of the day, having kept his becoming moral a secret?! Like the reader opens the door thinking it's girl scouts selling cookies, but there on her door step is Ahky! Hi, Yes I am soft for this man...

This ended up being SO SOFT that it needs a warning—WILL induce sighs and evoke feelings of disgustingly, achingly, so soft, so sweet love. Hope you like it!

A thousand times.

A thousand different ways.

Every day, I imagine what it would be like to walk through these city streets with the man I love by my side, the sunlight warm but the air cold as fall creeps up on us. A particularly chilly gust of wind would blow into our faces, tossing my hair wildly and ruffling his mop of brown curls, so I would press into him and he would wrap his arm around my waist, leaning over to press his cold nose onto my cheek, emphasizing that this weather was not his weather.

I would giggle and nudge him with my shoulder before wrapping my arm around his waist to hold on to him even tighter, like he’d slip through my grasp if I dared to let him go, and he would suddenly stop walking, not caring if the people behind us nearly collided into our backs. He would stop just to turn me to face him, and the sunlight would caress his brown skin as if in remembrance that he was an actual child of Ra, a god-king who once ruled the most powerful nation on earth and who once worshipped the sun properly with a reverence only possessed by the pharaohs of old. The sunlight could not forget his face, would not forget his face.

And how could I blame the sun?

As he would look into my eyes, I would smile because I couldn’t help it either, my eyes caressing his face with a tenderness to rival the sun’s, and his eyes would fill with a joy that flushed over his skin, cementing his face into my mind as the most beautiful thing I would ever behold.

“Heathcliff is an embodiment of the Moor, just like Cathy is. When she wishes to be “a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free,” she’s really only wishing for the release that only Heathcliff can give her.”

I sighed, pulled away from my daydream by classmates’ voices.

It was funny to sit in this class, listening to the conversations going on around me about one of the greatest fictional love stories of all time. If only they knew just how many more layers there were to what we perceived as our reality. If only they knew what it was like to truly love someone who could never be completely yours.

A quick glance at my phone told me my corpse of a boyfriend would be fully reanimated in about eight more hours.

The love story of Heathcliff and Cathy had nothing on us.

“Hey, Y/N. Wanna grab an early lunch?”

I smiled at my friend and shook my head. I was feeling too melancholy for company.

“Sorry—my afternoon class was cancelled, so I’m just going to head home. I need to catch up on my reading for Gamal’s class.”

“Like that’s even possible,” my friend said with an eyeroll and a smile.

I packed my books away and shouldered my backpack, savoring the crisp air of fall as I crunched through the leaves on the sidewalk outside of my university. I soon found myself lost in another hazy fantasy about Ahkmenrah as I navigated the familiar path between my school and my apartment.

I pulled open the door to the tiny lobby of my building, my eyes adjusting to the dim, indoor lights. I pressed for the elevator, glancing again at my phone to countdown the hours left until I could see Ahk again. I was missing him today, my mind seeing him in every brown-haired stranger, hearing him in every chitter of masculine laughter, and feeling him in every graze of sunlight.  

I stepped off the elevator, my head down, my eyes focused on my fingers as they found the key that unlocked my apartment door, and my body came to a halt as a pair of shoes popped into my line of vision.

“Oh, excuse—”

My mouth fell open and my fingers lost all control as my keys tumbled loose and clanged obscenely on the wood of the hallway floor.  

“Hello, Y/N,” Ahk said slowly as if he were trying not to startle a newly captured wild horse.

My eyes grew wide as my lips opened and closed, my mind unable to calm the rapid disconnect between itself and my senses.  

“Ahk—Ahkmenrah?” I said, my voice riddled with uncertainty, rising to an awkward pitch with the inflection of my question.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Ahk began, his hands shoved awkwardly in pockets he wasn’t used to having. “But perhaps this was not the best idea.”

I finally blinked, Ahkmenrah sharpening even further into focus, his stark beauty such a contrast to the faded paint that covered the walls of the hallway. I looked him over, clad in the clothes he wore when we ventured from the museum and into the city.

“How?” I breathed, unable to move.

“Perhaps we should go inside?” Ahkmenrah said, his eyes glancing at the elevator doors before they shifted back to me.

He bent to pick up my dropped keys, and I stepped back from him, shaking my head, blinking again to see if the image before me would dissipate like the figure in my daydreams.

Ahk straightened and hesitated, his face filled with hurt at the distance I put between us.  

For so long, I had warred with myself over the practicality of having a half-dead, 4,000-year-old boyfriend that my sanity was precariously based on routine—I lived my normal life during the day, and at night, always at night, I stepped into his world.

And now, in the middle of the day when he was supposed to be dead, he was here, very much alive. Or at least alive enough to put my keys in the lock and open my apartment door.

Ahkmenrah pushed the door open from the hallway, waiting for me to go inside.

I willed my body to move, to at least get the hell out of the hallway, and I brushed by him in a rush. He stood in the hall, clearly giving me the option to slam the door in his face and pretend this wasn’t happening, but when I made no such movement, he entered, quietly latching the door behind him.

I shrugged off my backpack, letting it fall to the floor with a thud, an echo of the obscene noise my keys had made in the nearly empty hallway moments ago.

“How?” I repeated as I sank onto my couch and tried to still my trembling hands by shoving them between my knees.

Ahkmenrah moved to sit next to me and his scent washed over me—that same smell of papyrus and the sand at the ocean, warm and comforting. I closed my eyes and my mind shot to the museum.

I fell asleep. Wouldn’t be the first time. I’m at the museum.

But when I opened my eyes, I was still in my apartment, sitting on my sofa, Ahkmenrah’s eyes bright and filled with such concern as he watched me; I could see the sunlight of the day still sliding in between the shades in my kitchen, and I watched the dust motes float in the air around Ahk’s head.

I blinked slowly, waiting.

“The tablet, my tablet,” Ahk began, clearing his throat, “is gone.”

“Gone?”

“In exchange for my heart once my mortal life has passed, Khonsu restored me. ‘The heart of a great king,’ he said, ‘is worth such a wait.’”

“Ahk—you can’t do this. You can’t—”

“It is done, Y/N. Please,” Ahkmenrah’s eyes filled with tears as he searched my face. “Please tell me this is what you want. Please tell me you meant all the things you said. Tell me you love me.”

“Please,” Ahk choked out before tears began to fall from his eyes.

I felt my own eyes fill with tears under the assault of his loving gaze, at the desperation in his voice as it broke caused my stupid inability to believe he was really here.

“Yes, I love you,” I breathed, my own tears spilling onto my cheeks.

“I love you,” I repeated as I finally, finally reached out to touch Ahkmenrah, my breath escaping my mouth when I connected with his warm skin, my thumb tracing over the wet marks on his cheeks.

I started to smile, a quick upturn of my lips as a laugh of disbelief escaped.

“You’re really here.”

Ahkmenrah returned my smile and reached up to grasp my hand that was still resting on his cheek. His large hand covered mine and he pulled it away, pressing a kiss to my palm.

“I’m here.”

My smile finally broke free, and I knew by the expression on Ahk’s face that my eyes were lit with happiness.

I wiggled my hand from his grasp and swiped at my cheeks, drying my tears, and he followed my lead, smiling softly at me. I leaned toward him and pressed my forehead to his, my hands resting on his shoulders. He placed his hands on my waist and I could feel a slight tremble as he grasped at me, almost as if it were his turn to make sure I was real.

Ahkmenrah moved first, angling his face so he could capture my lips in a soft kiss that quickly deepened, neither one of us able to keep our feelings at bay.

His lips moved against mine with intensity and I opened for him in a gesture that was beyond an invitation to only deepen a kiss. When I parted my lips for Ahkmenrah, it was to bare my soul, to give myself to him in a way I had never been able to when I knew he would return to dust with the first dawn of morning light.

Ahkmenrah’s body pressed into mine, his mouth dominating mine and it was clear he knew that despite all the times we had kissed before, this was truly our first kiss.

Our lips closed together again, reluctantly sliding apart as we breathed, neither of us daring to let the other get too far from our grasp.

“What do we do now?” Ahkmenrah asked, pulling back just far enough to watch my eyes slide open and refocus on his.

My mind swirled with possibilities, anything, everything, running through in a blurry mess of images.

I smiled and bit my lip as I ran a shaky hand through his soft hair.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

Ahkmenrah smiled so dazzlingly that I knew, even though his fate was now tied to Khonsu, he would always be favored by Ra, his smile a remnant from the sun-god himself.

“That sounds perfect,” he said, standing and proffering his hand.

I took Ahk’s hand and let him pull me to my feet, then I let him continue to pull me into a tight hug, his nose pressed into my hair, his chest expanding as he breathed me in.

* * * * *

The leaves crunched under our feet as the wind continuously swirled them onto our path, our bodies nestled tightly against one another as we walked, the sunlight wrapping its loving arms around us, blessing us with a gift I could scarcely believe was real.

[acdeaky]

nobody can

john’s birthday week - part 5

warning: fluff, angst

note: based off of this blurb here ! so @spacedust1124719 did a blurb requested by me and i was gonna do, like, a whole ass story, but i’m lacking inspiration, so we’re gonna have a fluffy/angsty one shot instead. enjoy :)

word count: 1.6k

when you met john deacon, you were in your first engineering class. against your luck, you were the only girl; you knew you would be. on your first day, you wanted to be early to get a good seat right at the front. also, it meant you missed all the typical shocked and surprised faces of your classmates as they walked through the door and saw you.

as you reached down into your bag, a pair of brown suede platforms caught your eye which belonged to the person sat next to you. even with people piling through the door, the seats around you were empty - as were the ones next to those chairs.

once you say back, you were met with a soft, sweet smile belonging to the adorable man next to you. a broad smile spread across your face.

“john deacon.” he held out his hand, strong and proud, for you to take.

you felt a blush appear on your cheeks as you replied, “Y/N L/N.”

and that’s how the first few weeks of your term went in engineering class. both of you would shyly say a small hi to the other at the beginning of class.

in the third week, you both got more comfortable around the other. this was evoked when an imbecile towards the back hollered through your answer to the professor. john stopped him, “if you’re going to be rude, at least have the correct answer. she did. i’m sure you didn’t notice though.” the entire class stared widely of john as he turned around, a little too smug about himself.

after that specific class, john accompanied you to the library to study. he would get distracted some days. talking to you, that is. often, he would glance down at his watch and suddenly take off without explanation.

an explanation finally came about when you were leaving your final exam together one cold friday. outside of your lecture hall stood an odd group of individuals: a drop-dead gorgeous blond wearing a unique choice of clothing that matched surprisingly well, an attractive curly haired lanky man who stood proud against the other two shorter men, and another good looking dark brown haired man with hair that looked as soft as a cloud and had the perfect beach waves. confused, you looked at john when they greeted him with wide arms. all he did was blush, quietly mentioned they were his band and they were about to go to a gig. one of the shorter ones, freddie, immediately invited you to join them.

throughout the gig, regardless of the other three men on that stage, you only looked at john.

john came out to find you after the show. he stumbled backwards slightly when you flung your arms around him, giving him a tight hug. after realising you’d never been that close before, you quickly pulled back.

“i don’t think i can watch you play again.” you confessed.

“what’s the problem?” he worried, “did you not like the music?”

you could only smile. “it’s not that. you‘re too cute up there. the dancing.” you glanced around before continuing, “and well, you look sexy.”

johns while face had turned as red as a tomato, redder even, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “thank you.” bashful.

“it’s distracting,” he was still red, but that didn’t stop you. “i couldn’t even watch freddie. do you have a drummer?”

his eyes were really bright. “really?”

“yeh,” you bit your lip, your fingers hooked through his belt loops and your pulled him closer to you. “this,” you motioned at his unbuttoned shirt, “isn’t helping.”

john swallowed, hard. “i like knowing you watched me the whole concert.”

you looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers creating a path down his arms and to his hands. “maybe i could come next time, too.”

“come on, deaky!” brian called from behind the stage, a few feet away from you. “we need to pack up!”

freddie looked out to see where his young friend was. he held brian back, by his arm, from getting john. “look at them, it’s adorable. he looks so smitten.” then, freddie called louder to john, “take your time, darling!”

this happened at almost every gig the band had afterwards. you got to know freddie, roger and brian better each time you were around them, and everytime you watched john perform you became hot and flustered. at the end of each concert, you’d end up in john’s arms like you’d done the first night; his hands on your hips, your fingers tracing lines up and down his arms and chest. regardless, he didn’t get out of packing up every night, but it allowed the boys to watch you and john fall for each other.

and you fell hard.

so hard in fact, that when john mentioned that he had met a woman called veronica, you stopped in your tracks. john was sat talking to the boys in their rehearsal space. they were on a break and just catching up on each others lives. you had hoped to surprise him, being as quiet as you could. but hearing another woman’s name fall from his lips had you rushing out of the door, not even bothering to say anything.

on your way out, you had dropped his favourite coffee and the cookie you had bought him. your exit had not been quiet. the coffee had spilt everywhere and the cookie was now broken in pieces.

when they heard your not-so-subtle gasp, all four of the boys looked at you just before you ran out. they were all stuck to their seats, not knowing what to do.

john was the first to move.

he gently jogged over to the spilt drink and broken cookie. the coffee cup had his name on it written in your handwriting he loves, a little heart next to it. the same on the paper wrapper of the cookie. but on the cookie, the words ‘i love you’ were written above his name.

john picked the cup and bag up, showing freddie, roger and brian the words written on both items.

“i wasn’t even going to see veronica again.”

but you didn’t know that.

you only heard what you thought you needed to hear to know that john didn’t like you. you didn’t hear the words john was about to say afterwards.

‘no one compares to her.’ he had said.

‘i met this girl, veronica was her name,’ that’s all you heard. ‘but no one compares to Y/N.’

now, you were running (walking fastly) away from the band. from john. this seemed like a whole movie scene to you, but that was at the back of your mind. that young 18 year old you had met in engineering class was now the love of your life. and now. now, you thought that after almost four years of friendship, he was going to drop you for this veronica. of course, that wasn’t the case.

but what did you know?

after you had left, and john had broken the news that he wasn’t going to see veronica again, freddie, roger and brian ushered john out of the door in search of you. the only place he could think of going was your apartment, or his. depending on how upset you were, you would usually go to john’s home to seek his comfort if you were deeply sad. and, for the first time ever, john had been the cause of your sadness.

and yet, minutes after you had ran, you found yourself outside of john’s apartment building. you rushed to the door, using your key to get into the building and using the lift to get to the tenth floor where john lived. it took seconds to arrive there, and by the time you had gotten into john’s apartment, he was just pushing his way through the front door of the building.

his harsh pounds were heard throughout the entire tenth floor as he tried to get your attention. nothing could drown out that level of noise. you had no choice but to unlock the chain and open the door.

john’s arms were around you in an instant. you couldn’t help but hold him back. there was something so comforting about having john’s arms around your waist, pulling your bottom had closer to him, as your arms around his neck pulled his top half closer to you. your bodies created an odd shape, but you were most content and happy in moments like these.

until you remembered why you ran.

“john, don’t.” was all you said as you pushed him away. he, fortunately, wasn’t very strong, so it was easy to do so.

“don’t what, love? what’s wrong?”

“i heard you.” you whispered.

“heard what,” he asked, “and how much?”

“how you met a girl called veronica. and that was it.”

“oh, love,” he sighed. “if you listened a little longer you would have heard that she can’t compare to you. nobody compares to you. nobody can.”

“you really said that?”

“yes. why wouldn’t i?”

“because you don’t love me like i love you.” you whispered, absolutely terrified of john’s reply.

“you what, love?”

“you don’t love me,” john’s face softened, “like i love you.”

“i love you. i love you. i love you. not veronica. not some groupie. not some random girl from a bar. you. because it’s always been you, love. no one else. ever since i met you in class, you’ve intrigued me in the best way possible. you’re everything i’ve ever wanted in a partner. i was scared you didn’t feel the same so i was going to move on, but it wasn’t the same. it’s not the same without you.”

“oh, john-”

“i love you.” he pressed.

“and i love you.”

-

TAGLIST: @never-kept-the-same-address @j0hn-deaky @sohoneyspreadyourwings @brian-maybe-not @deakysbabybooty @1001-yellow-daffodils @retromusicsalad @hardcoredisneynerd @painkiller80 @leatherjacketmazzello @scarecrowmax @mebeatlized @seesiderendezvous @alright-mrfahrenheit @someone-get-a-medic @miamideacon @chlobo6 @teenagepeterpan @spacedust1124719

[becausewerebatfam]

Mother Knows Best

Damian Wayne x Reader

After finally gaining your father’s approval to date Damian a new problem arises. His mother, Talia, also finds out and she is not pleased.

Warning: Violence & Suggestive Content, Damian’s age is 18+

[ Master List ]

“What is this I hear about my son?” Talia may not be involved in her son’s life but every so often she had people watching him and reporting back to her. She lost it when she heard of his romantic involvement with another of Bruce’s live-in charity cases. Damian was a very serious person who did everything properly. He was now of marrying age and if he had started to court someone she felt obligated to asses the woman. From what she had gathered, using the League, you were no match for her son.

Her son deserved someone better.

Bruce ignored her question and asked her to leave but it only fueled her anger.

“Who is this woman that has poisoned my perfect son?” She had yet to see you and was more than eager to confront you.

You and Damian arrived at the Batcave in time to hear Talia’s question. It hurt, but from what you had heard about Damian’s mother it was no surprise. Not being one to fear confrontation you acted before Damian could stop you. “That would be me.”

“Y/N don’t-” Damian called out to you but it was too late. You had left his side and gone to face his mother. He knew it was only a matter of time before she showed up after that run-in with the League earlier in the week.

Talia scowled at you making you question whether Damian got his scowling abilities from his father or mother. She wasn’t surprised at all to see you were also wearing a bat on your chest but she was still sure you weren’t worthy of being the wife of the Al’Ghul heir.

“This is unacceptable-” she pointed at you.

“This,” you repeated with resent.

She had dehumanized you with only one word.

“I don’t need your approval to court her.” Damian stood behind you urging you to let it go, “Don’t listen to her Beloved.”

Bruce stood behind Talia knowing very well that she was looking for a fight. Similarly, Damian stood beside you putting a hand on your shoulder as a reminder to mind your temper.

Talia’s eyes showed a flash of disappointment at the term of endearment. Her son would never show such weakness. “How could you have gotten so weak Damian? Is she to blame, because I can fix that.” Her voice lowered and her weight shifted showing she was ready to attack.

“Are you threatening me,” you ask taking a step forward.

Damian knew his mother had a gun on her while you only had a pair of katanas strapped to your back. “Stand down Y/N you can’t win.”

His lack of confidence hurt but not as much as his mother’s comments. You knew it was hypocritical to fight her when you had tried to avoid having your father and Damian fight. But this was different, your honor was being attacked. You were being dehumanized just like when you were in the lab. The thoughts took over your senses making you see red.

“Listen to Damian,” Bruce sternly warned. 

He couldn’t see your eyes but he was sure you were starting to get fired up. He didn’t like how close you two were in distance and in skill. It would end badly if you fought Talia as you were now. He was mostly afraid you would lose your temper forcing him to take you down.

“Fine,” you breathed out unclenching your fists. 

You turned walking straight past Damian shooting him a glare, and into the manor where you took your mask off and tossed it aside. In a huff of rage, you punched the nearest wall only to regret it immediately after. The consecutive whispers of apologies that accompanied your failed efforts to cover up the damage evoked laughter from behind you.

“Woah, bad night?” Dick asked after silently witnessing you lose control.

The last thing you wanted was to alarm anyone with your temper. Flashes of memories blinded you. Memories where your hands were bathed in blood. “Please don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded. Bruce would definitely lecture you and take you out of the field if you started showing signs of aggression.

Dick knew you were trying your best to live up to Bruce’s standards just like the rest of them. You had your own demons to overcome. “Only if you tell me what’s got you so worked up.”

You sighed, “Where do I begin...”

“At the beginning of course.”

You giggled at his lame attempt to make you laugh. Guess it wasn't so lame in the end if it worked.

Damian came up to the Manor after getting rid of his mother. He expected you to be mad about what had just happened but instead, he found you smiling in the kitchen as you ate some sugary breakfast cereal with Dick.

That only worried him further.

“Oh, Dami you’re just in time. We’re about to have seconds!” Dick opened the second box of Lucky Charms and poured its mix of marshmallows and cereal into his bowl. Just as you scooped your last bits of little brown cereal pieces.

He turned down Dick’s invitation instead, focusing on you. “Beloved,” he reached out to hold your free hand but you moved it. You avoided him altogether by getting up and walking away.

“Dami wait,” Dick stopped him when he tried going after you. “Before you go after her you have to be sure of what you are going to say or it will only make it worse.”

Damian’s brow furrowed, “What did she tell you?”

“Not much but something Talia said triggered her memories and nearly made her lose control.”

With that in mind Damian went up to his bedroom where you would most likely run off to. He sighed heavily upon entering knowing he would have to admit to a few things. “I understand your anger towards me.”

“Do you,” you asked cross-armed. Damian could be thick-headed when it came to emotions. He loved to mask or deny his emotions just like his father. 

You had spoken to him about the lab but it was one thing to hear about it than it was to live it. You did not expect him to completely understand what you felt when his mother dehumanized you. 

He closed the gap between you and reached out, holding onto either side of you. “Instead of standing up for you I put my efforts into driving her away. But I had a good reason for that.”

Your arms loosened as you waited for his response.

Damian’s hands slid from your arms to your hips. “I could not risk you getting hurt. I’ve foughten mother- she would not hesitate."

“You think I would lose?”

It was hard to say. “Your rage is unpredictable.”

You sighed, disappointed by the small amount of trust your boyfriend had in you. “Dami-” you tried prying his hands off of you but he would not let go.

“Beloved I know you have come a long way since then. Despite all the provocation, you have managed to control your actions but I know Talia.” 

A hint of sadness could be seen in his eyes making you less reluctant to pull away. Instead, your hand went to his cheek, “Sometimes I forget you too had a less than normal childhood.” Your other hand went to the back of his neck where you clung to him.

Damian held you by the waist now, wrapping his arms fully around you. "I do not doubt your skills.” He chuckled remembering the scar on his right pectoral that had remained a souvenir from his first encounter with Y/N Wilson. “I have the scar to prove it.”

Your hand slid from his cheek to said muscle on his chest with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that...” At the time he had stopped you from a political hit job you had been sent on. The job was long forgotten but you still recalled the wrath of Robin. “But I do think it’s incredibly sexy to see my handiwork on you.”

He knew the feeling. It was comparable to when he would see the markings on your neck the following morning after having spent the night with you. 

The hand on his neck pulled down on him so you could reach his lips. All your previous anger had been forgotten as you nipped and sucked his bottom lip. The kiss was being led by you until Damian dipped down and scooped you up holding onto your thighs. 

His actions caught you unaware making you open your eyes and mouth, an opportunity he took to explore your tongue with his.

He sat down at the edge of the bed with you straddling his lap. “Promise me that if Talia ever tries to contact you or you run into her, that you will let me know.”

You hesitated for a moment but ultimately nodded. “I promise.”

He gave you a sweet longing peck keeping his forehead against yours after. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Damian.”

With that, you began taking each other’s suits off. Being on his lap, Damian had managed to fully unclothe you fairly quickly while you had only managed to slip off the top half.

He watched you trace his scar with your fingers for a moment before replacing them with your lips.

You stopped when you heard the door slam open behind you.

“It’s too quiet, did you kill each-” Dick quickly regretted bursting in without knocking.

“Grayson!” 

Dick covered his eyes and quickly began to apologize to you. “Sorry the door was unlocked and it was so quiet I thought you two killed each other.”

Damian picked up his cape and draped it over you before chasing out his older brother. Even if it was an accident he had seen too much.

When Damian came back he was sporting a scowl. That was the second time one of his brothers had walked in on him. “He got away.”

“At least he apologized, unlike Tim.” You tried to make light of the situation. After all your back had been to the door so he hadn’t seen much. “At this rate, Jason will be next.”

“I’ll kill him again.”

+++

Unfortunately, you were unable to keep your promise when Talia took your prized katanas, specially made for you by your father, and only offered to give them back if you went to Infinity Island which is where you currently were. Although your father would understand the circumstances of their loss it had become more of a matter of principle. 

You would not allow Talia to taunt you now or in the future. 

“I’m not good enough for your son? You think less of me because I can’t take a life,” you ask incredulously. There is a moment of silence as you try to think of a response that wouldn’t offend her but sometimes people needed to be told their truths. “Bruce warned me about coming here...” He had tried to stop you. “Damian also-”

Talia’s eyes narrowed at you as her chest rose to show her confidence the same way Damian did. “There is nothing you can say or do that will hurt me. I am not weak like you, my son requires someone who will encourage him to achieve greater things.”

“I do that!” You were starting to yell and that wasn’t good. 

Talia didn’t know you had blood on your hands. In what felt like a lifetime ago you were once a mercenary like your father. At one point you were driven by anger like the one you felt now but thanks to your father you had learned to control it.

Unfortunately, he never taught you how to deal with someone like Talia. She was a smart, educated woman but her views were too extreme. Logic was beyond her.

“If I could speak freely I would tell you of all your weaknesses but I’d probably only need to point out one to get a reaction out of you.”

“Speak girl!”

Your hands balled into fists ready to embrace the consequences of your words. Oh, how you wished you would have taken a weapon from the cave. “Your greatest weakness Talia is your lack of maternal instincts. I don’t doubt you love your son but it is a twisted conventional love. You only show him favor when he is doing your bidding and when he isn’t you are more than willing to dispose of him-”

“Insolent girl!” Talia threw a knife at you but you dodged it just in time.

“My name is Y/N,” you replied from your newfound ground. The rage had taken over and all you could see was red. The gun strapped to her thigh was your target.

Talia threw a few more daggers your way. 

Each one of them missed and lodged into the wall behind you except the last. That one you caught in your hand and threw it back at her with a bit of laughter. She had tried to catch it just as you had but the speed was far greater than she had calculated.

She grunted in agony as the dagger impaled her hand, striking a nerve that made her unable to even feel the whole arm.

You laughed as you approached her with a smirk. Crimson red trails ran down her forearm fueling your blood lust. “Is this what you wanted?”

Talia’s brow furrowed in confusion as you removed your domino mask. She could see your eyes had literally become red.

“Taking a life is easy, there is nothing praiseworthy about that.”

When you got close enough Talia threw a few kicks your way and fended you off with her one good hand as she waited for the League to hear her and come to her rescue. 

You were quick, only allowing her to land a few hits while you reached for the dagger again.

“Ah!” Talia screamed loudly when you tore it out.

This time you did not throw it. Instead, you held it at her throat. “Is this what you want for Damian?”

The League of Assassins entered throwing shuriken at you from all sides. 

You let go of Talia and used the dagger to deflect the shuriken sending them off into multiple directions.

Talia used the opportunity to get away. Once she was safely out of your reach she used her non-dominant hand to reach for her gun. “Wha-” she nearly cursed when she found her holster empty.

Bang.

A satisfied smile appeared on your face when you saw the dark figure slump to the ground like a rag doll.  You could literally hear the bullet break through their ribs before it hit his heart. This was your first lethal shot in years and it felt so good. 

The rush of adrenaline, the ringing in your ears... you had to do it again.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Click, click... “Empty,” you sighed disappointedly as you discarded the gun.

Talia was shocked to see you had killed everyone. 

Her face spoke of horror which made you tilt your head in question. “Was this not what you wanted, what you expected for your son?" You smiled once more feeling light and airy after your first killing spree since leaving your mercenary life. “Surprised by the fact that your son actually chose an ex-merc as his girlfriend?” You laughed at the irony. “My name is Y/N Wilson, daughter of Slade Wilson.”

“Y/N!” Damian called out.

You turned towards the sound of his voice. “Dami,” you muttered as soon as you saw the horror on his face. Suddenly the red had left your eyes but not your hands. You could see Talia’s blood on your gloves and an overwhelming urge to wipe off a wet substance from your face- no doubt blood.

Damian looked around to see the many bodies, neither belonging to his mother. 

The smell of iron filled your nostrils and welled your eyes with tears of regret.

He rushed over to catch you as you lost all the strength in your legs. The emotional turmoil was crashing down on you like the unforgiving waves of the ocean during a storm. “What did you do,” he rhetorically asked with a mix of anger and compassion for his beloved.

For a moment you silently clutched onto him. Finding your voice was difficult when you were surrounded by your wrongdoings. “I- I lost it,” you managed to say in a low trembling voice. “I wanted to but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t control myself.”

Damian wiped your tears unable to see you suffering like this.

But the more he did for you, the more tears would slip. Eventually, the mix of blood and tears were too much for him to clear. “I’m sorry.”

Damian swallowed the non-existant lump in his throat. He knew what you were going through, he had felt similar after his year of blood. All he could do was hold you in his arms and stroke your hair lovingly. For he knew, as soon as his father heard about this you would surely be taken from him.

Distracted and withdrawn Talia managed to come up behind you two. She pushed Damian away before driving your own katanas through your abdomen and chest. “You are weak,” were the last words she spoke to you before pulling them out.

You dropped to your knees with blank eyes. The impact had hurt but now you felt nothing. You fell to the side looking down at your wounds. All you could do was stare at the blood as it seeped out.

“NO!” Damian did not know what to do. He could see the life leaving your body as your skin turned pale and your eyes struggled to remain open. His hands went to your wounds but the blades had gone through and through. You were bleeding from the front and back.

“Damian, Y/N,” Batman finally arrived.

“You’re too late Beloved,” Talia threw your katanas aside. “For a moment I thought perhaps I had underestimated her. She managed to do this much only to let her guard down in the end. Our son can do better.”

While his father dealt with his mother Damian tended to you. He ripped his cape and tied bands of it around your torso applying pressure to both the front and back of the wounds. “Everything is going to be alright Y/N.”

You shook your head too drained to speak but wishing he would give up and leave you there. You couldn’t imagine facing him after what you did. 

“It’s not your fault.”

How you wished you could believe that. A tear rolled down the side of your eyes before you completely blacked out.

+++

Three Months Later

“Y/N you have a visitor.”

You sat up on your bed as the guard opened your cell. Instantly your heart dropped when you saw Damian. He was dressed as Robin keeping his identity safe from the other inmates of Arkham Asylum.

Even with your private room he had to pass the cells of other villains like Harley and Ivy.

You turned away not wanting to see him. “I told you not to come here again.” Most of your memory from the when you encountered Talia was hazy. You recalled your initial attack of her and the moment she stabbed you with your own swords. The rest came in flashes. But, the moment you woke up to find yourself in Arkham you knew your life would never be the same again.

Damian nodded, “I know.” It was hard to see you dressed in the all-white uniform, your ankle chained to the bed. Your once long hair had been cut up to your shoulder to make it easier to manage.

“Then what are you doing here?” Your voice wavered a bit from the stern tone you wished to give off. When you turned to him your brow was furrowed but your eyes were too sad to truly scowl at him.

Although you rejected him since the day you regained consciousness Damian continued to return. He visited you every two weeks in between your treatments- like they allowed him. “Beloved please understand I did this for you.”

“For me?” You finally let your feet touch the cold floor. The sound of the metal chain banging against the bedpost echoed your small cell. “You locked me up in the very place I fear most.” Your chest rose and fell with every shaky breath you took. The doctors and scientists that overlooked you were far too familiar a sight. “I’m surrounded by the white coats again.”

Damian’s jaw clenched unable to refute your claims. In the past three months, he could see the fear growing inside you. His eyes went to your neck where a white ring began to beep. It was the collar that monitored your heart rate, aka your rage. “Beloved you have to calm down.”

“Don’t call me that!”

The beeping grew louder drawing the attention of a passing doctor. “Is everything okay here?”

“No, get him out!” you ordered.

The doctor went to look for a guard with the keys.

“Beloved this is for your own good.” Damian tried reasoning with you. He held you by the shoulders but you pushed him off. 

“Leave,” you breathed out. 

He shook his head, “I love you.”

Those three words triggered your tears. The strong facade you had been playing for the past three months broke down with you. “You shouldn’t,” you cried out.

Just as he was about to embrace you the guard came along with the doctor. 

You wiped your tears away not wanting anyone else to see you like this. “Sorry,” you mouthed to him. 

You wanted them to keep him away from you for good. 

The only way to do that was to convince them he had to be kept away.

The beeping started back up as your heart raced. It was a completely inaccurate tool. It hardly was able to map your rage. The memories of being with Damian were all you needed to trigger it. 

“No Y/N-”

The doctor pushed past Damian, “Sorry you have to leave the patient is becoming unstable.” He called for other doctors while Damian struggled against the guard.

As the small cell filled with white coats, your fear took over and you became hysterical. You fought them off not allowing them near you. “Leave me alone!”

Damian watched as they forced a needle into your neck that immediately stopped the beeping. You fell limp into one of the doctor's arms as they laid you back into the bed.

“Increase the dosage and bring her in for more tests. We must scan the brain again.”

The head doctor approached Damian with remorse. “I’m sorry Robin but the patient only reacts negatively when you come around. She’s usually pretty well behaved.” He has resigned to the fact that Robin was the cause for your issues. “I have to ask you to refrain from visiting until we run more tests.”

“Tt,” Damian turned away. He knew what you were doing and it was working. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“I understand but-”

“She was fine, there is nothing wrong with her.”

“If you believe that then why did you bring her here?”

He didn’t want to. His father made him. Now he could see it was a mistake listening to him. If he had kept you out of here you would be fine as long as he kept you away from his mother.

Damian didn’t respond. He looked to your cell where you were fast asleep and walked off.

“Boy wonder you really are just as cruel as the bat,” Ivy taunted him. “Sending your girlfriend to Arkham in chains...”

Damian ignored her and continued walking.

“Poor baby Y/N was let down by her birdie,” Harley chimed in. “If I were you I’d watch out for her Daddy.”

Damian stopped to look over at Harley.

“Oh, didn’t you know? Her Daddy knows what you did to her.”

-end-

A/N: Which did you like more: Father Knows Best or Mother Knows Best?

[ocsxinxpurgatory]

Protection (Emery Drake Introduction Drabble)

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: Emery and Lawson are mine as is the plot while everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Setting: Season One Compliant

Pairing: Emery Drake/Lawson Greaves

Rating: PG

No one is prepared for Doc Holliday to come stumbling into the park not considering the piss-poor situation at hand. Emery Drake could live without having to deal with the mess the entire situation is but there are just some things a gentleman doesn’t ignore no matter if one is a cursed demon. 

*~*~*~*

Protection

 “What...the hell?!” 

The bewilderment mixed with anger is what gets his attention first. Carefully, he slides the violin back in its case and rises knowing that at this juncture nothing that evoked that sort of mixed emotions was particularly promising. Emery is not a fool and this was already messy enough what with the newest Heir there and in “fine” form. Of course upon approach he’s definitely not ready to see the male who was staring in a mix of unease and distress. 

It was Doc Holliday. The Doc Holliday.

He moves around the group who he was sure meant that this was going to end up in a mess and gives a smooth, “I’m going to guess that there is something magical afoot, John Henry Holliday, as I’m sure you’re not a Revenant.” He watches blue eyes go guarded and uncertain and snorts softly. “Thought as much.” 

“Emery…” comes the warning that has him shifting his attention back over his shoulder and he knows this will not end well if he pushes forward with his choices. Unfortunately, he has no intention of allowing what no doubt would be an awful time for the gunslinger. Demon or not, Emery still is not about to let someone suffer needlessly.

That decided, he once again shifts his attention back to the wary male. “Since you look like someone who definitely is not ready for what he’s found, come along. We need to talk.” 

“Emery.” This time his name is a threat and he gives the speaker a sunny smile. 

“You can snarl all you want but this isn’t up to you. Talk to the Boss,” he retorts as he watches the male slowly shift towards him clearly sensing at least an ally. Emery makes sure to keep him against his side opposite the other Revenants as he brings him to the outskirts and a small empty trailer. “Inside,” he says quietly, “It’ll be easier to keep you out of their crosshairs for the time being.”

He can sense the tension in the other when he closes the door and watches the male almost hover by the chair. “How much do you know?” he asks as he makes himself comfortable on the small bench by the door. 

“There’s a curse at work. That’s...what I recall from my last meetin’ with Wyatt. He wasn’t exactly forthcoming wit’ the details before he ended our friendship over my personal choices.” 

“Which is why you are here looking just as you did before minus…” He cocks his head, “Ah, yes that would be it. You didn’t want to die. Well, Doc Holliday, I’m afraid you’ve managed to wander right into a group of cursed demons called Revenants. All of us were killed one way or another by your “dear” Wyatt Earp so you can understand the underlying desire to hurt you.”

“Suppose I get that,” he says quietly, “Might I have your name at the very least?” 

“Emery Drake,” comes the easy reply, “And honestly, I have the least bit of ill-will towards everyone’s least favorite marshall. Honestly, the curse is far more troublesome. Might I ask where you stumbled in from?” 

“A well...where I was pushed by a witch I am planning on murderin’.” 

Emery is quiet as he listens as he has a sinking suspicion that he knows is not his business to tell, instead he focuses on the part of the situation can be discussed. “You’ve spent a few decades in a well?” 

“Since...1887, I believe. What year is it now?” 

“It’s 2016,” he says quietly, “You’ve been in a well for over a hundred years.” Noting the rising panic, he brings a hand up. “Don’t. Relax. Honestly, you are less of a problem then what is going on with the newest Earp Heir. So just take a breath. Right now, let’s get you cleaned up so you look less like you climbed out of said well. It’s not becoming of a gentleman of your stature.” 

It’s not easy to get him to rescind his claim on his clothing and Emery knows to be careful with the items. He locks the door as he slips out before heading for where he needs to go. Of course he’s only at his truck before he hears, “Are you fucking kidding me, Drake?” 

He slowly sets the items in the passenger side before gazing at the Revenant glaring at him. “Red, I don’t know why you think this is up for discussion or why you think I’d ever be intimidated by the likes of you.” 

“You know the Boss ain’t gonna like someone protectin’ Doc fuckin’ Holliday, either.” 

“Well the Boss can tell me that himself. Until then, remember that I’m a gentleman and there are certain things you do not do to another.”

“You are going to regret this. You know where his loyalty lies.”

There is a shrug as he walks around the truck. “Perhaps, but that is not the point in this. So keep your sharp teeth to yourself at this point. He’s in my orbit and until the Boss makes a ruling he’s allowed to stay.”

“Tch.” 

Emery chuckles. “Gnash your teeth all you want, it's still the rules. Break them and you and I will have a conversation and you know that’s going to end poorly.” The threat is given with a look of cold contempt that he notes Red immediately recognizes as the Rev steps back. He watches him go back towards the park before pulling out a small phone and dialing a number. “Hey, do me a favor would you? There’s a new addition to the park in the small empty trailer by mine. Can you stay by it until I get back?” 

“Why do I think you’re up to something?”

“You know me, that’s why. I’m sure if you haven’t run into anyone you will by the time you get back so we’ll talk when I get back. Which will be soon, I promise.”

There is a quiet pause before would come, “Fantastic. Be careful, Minstrel.”

He chuckles softly, “Oh, you’re going to find that’s impossible at this point.” That’s where he leaves the conversation so that he can take care of the items in his possession. Sometimes it was the small things that could help ground a person feeling like a stranger in a strange place. Being shoved back after only thirty-ish years was harrowing enough so he cannot imagine over a hundred years stuck in a well. 

*~*~*~*~*

His return is met by Lawson whose gaze is guarded and dismayed. “Are you serious?” he demands in a low voice, “You have Doc Holliday in that trailer?” 

“Right now is not the time for this,” he answers as he maneuvers around him with the outfit in his arms; a familiar dark hat atop it, “There are more important issues to sort through that has nothing to do with the gentleman here.”

“Except…” 

He huffs at the red-head before retorting, “We’re not arguing my choices here, Lawson. I’ll take full responsibility for this.” 

“Oh, I am sure that you are going to be dealing with our irate boss at this point.” 

He shrugs before he opens the door. “I’ll risk it. Thank you for at least looking after the trailer.”

“Just...don’t make the Boss drag you across the line for stupidity, okay?” 

“I know,” he answers, “That’s not my plan.” 

“I doubt it ever is but…” 

Emery chuckles. “No, I get it. Let me go and check on him and be sure he hasn’t drowned himself in the shower.” 

“Would be simpler if he had.” 

“Lawson, be a gentleman would you?” 

“I’m an outlaw, remember? The gentleman in this relationship is definitely you. Just be careful, Minstrel. Like I said.”

“I will be as careful as I can at this juncture.” He steals a kiss before he unlocks and heads into the small trailer. Moving for the small room with the shower, he taps before murmuring, “Your clothes are clean again, Doc.” It’s a long moment before the door would crack so he could hand the items inside. And a few minutes longer before the male rejoins him in the main room looking more put together than before. “How are you feeling?”

“Less like I spent way too long in that well,” comes the quiet response, “Thank you.” 

Emery smiles as he settles on the bench before murmuring, “Don’t thank me yet. We still have a lot to discuss and a few things for you to understand about where you are.” As he watches, Doc settes again on the couch and gazes at him; blue eyes calmer more alert. 

“Then let us talk.”

[the-cabalist]

This evening, a man came to my humble hut. 

This is much stranger than it sounds. Given my reputation and my services, it is not normal for an average citizen of Ionia to seek me out, especially at night.

Regardless, he came to me seeking services. I didn’t recognize him as an agent of the Cabal, and he certainly didn’t look like a Noxian agent to me. I decided to believe his outfit, and took him at face value as just some run-of-the-mill citizen.

He looked skittish walking through my door. Unlocked, of course. No sense in locking the door when you don’t get any proper company anyway, so may as well leave it open for the wind. I welcomed him inside despite his skittish nature and offered him a drink, but he ignored my idle advances like most men do.

He was entirely business, which didn’t surprise me either. He wanted me to work on his wife, that is to say he wanted her out of the picture to claim her possessions. 

“So this is out of raw greed? Not some emotional discourse or her being a wretch..?” I had asked him, wanting to evoke whatever other information I could from him, as he appeared to not understand the nature of my service.

“Oh, well when you put it that way it sounds wrong, Demon!” the man quipped, wobbling like butter once I said something of substance. “No, I wouldn’t call it greed! I’d call it...” he stopped, likely thinking of a synonym for the word ‘greed’. “... I just want a fresh start! This slow life isn’t for me at all, Virtuoso! Oh, and i’m entirely sure that she’ll chase me half way to the Placidium if she isn’t taken care of!”

I got up from my chair, frankly insulted that this man saw me as some sort of clown that one hires to do a gag or two. He appeared to confuse my work, something methodical and filled with purpose, for something akin to assassination; a practice as simple as ramming a knife in the neck of some unassuming socialite as they sipped their umpteenth drink of the night. 

“So, you want me to remove this wife of yours just because you don’t want her following you around the land like some dejected puppy?”

“Could you quit talking like that, you madman!? Stop trying to inject emotion into everything! This is just something I need done! You’ve got a damn fine reputation as a death-dealer so you ought to know what business is!”

He was correct. I certainly did know what business was, and still do. This simply wasn’t my business, though. His confusion as to what I actually do for men in my line of work appeared evident, and I thought I would remedy him of it. One might say, ‘do him a kindness’. Firstly, I asked of pay.

“What are you paying for this work, sir?”

He didn’t answer with a number in regards to the gold, simply tossing an overweight brown bag of the stuff onto my desk, spilling it over the pages of the journal and into my lap. It served as another sign that this poor man had no idea who he was dealing with. Did he expect me to accept overpay for work? I rarely even care about what i’m paid, it is about the job itself. I took it as an obvious sign of disrespect, as he likened me to some under-the-table assassin from Noxus or Bilgewater, merely looking for coin in exchange for services. I would do it for free if it conveyed the proper message, frankly.

I reached onto the table and heaved the sack up in my hand, feeling it like the curvature on the side of a malnourished courtesan. It was bumpy and uneven, which felt awkward to the touch. I waltzed over to the nearby window which overlooked the craggy rocks beneath and slid it open, glancing outside as I let the evening air into the room. The tension in our dispute eased a little, and I welcomed the chill.

Before the man could cut in about asking as to whether the still undetermined amount of gold was enough, I sent the plump pouch sailing out the window and onto the rocks. It slapped against the various crags until I could no longer hear the annoying sound of jingling coins.

“That was MY MONEY, Jhin! We didn’t even agree to a deal, or a job, or anything yet!” The man shouted, his voice echoing out the window that I had just opened. “I hope you don’t expect me to go crawling down there to pick up all those pieces! Damn it, why did you do that?!” He finished, huffing as if he were a bull ready to charge me straight through the window.

I responded honestly, and in a much calmer tone than the one he took with me. “I did it because you just insulted me, my friend. You seem to equate me to lesser assassins, and I don’t appreciate you walking into my home to both insult me and then shout nonsense at me. Though, the offer was amusing and tempting...” I added, cluing him into my intentions despite my actions.

“Oh, so you’re up for it then, right? You’re going to go sack her?” He asked finally, a glint of emotional and instinctual hope hanging in his eyes. He knew full well that I was now his only option, having lost his pay. I had assumed such, as no sane man would do any risky work without a bit of coin, right?

I gave him a chuckle and drew Whisper off my desk, giving her leathery grip a squeeze. It gave me a bit of courage, and a slight inspiration to pull the trigger.

“Oh, no! No! Not at all! I am not some lowbrow showman, you hog! What about this do you not understand!? Your deal amuses, it doesn’t entice!” I barked, losing my temper for a moment and letting my first shot fly into his stomach. Not an accident, I will admit, but this individual clearly had it coming.

He wailed out, as expected. His hands tightened up and he slumped over onto my table, digging his gloved nails into the poor leg of the furniture. He struggled to stay half-upright. Upon snapping back to reality, he clutched a hand over the new wound in his stomach, only having one free one to support his weight against the table.

I fired off my second, and then my third shot. Not into my patron, though, but straight out the window. He was undeserving of the pain they would cause, and in my murkiness I did not think of two fresh places to bless him with the bullets. Off they went, and off I went around the corner of the table to grab him by the back of his collar.

“Fuckin’... madman...” He sputtered at me, getting a bit of spittle on the polished oak. “Shooting your clients... worse than I thought...” He added, seemingly digging his grave deeper and deeper.

I sunk my fingers just deep enough into his exposed neck to elicit some pain. He quivered and shook, his nerve clearly wearing down at the sense of pain, both fast and slow mixing together within him. I didn’t blame him, of course. When under so much pain and confusion, one could only ever wish for it to stop. Nothing in our realm could be more brutal and convincing than pain, and when faced against a mountain of it there was no room for the brave or the foolhardy.

Before he could throw another round of insults at me, I slammed his forehead into the table. I cracked it, a thing I now regret. The furniture was perfectly fine before I had to muddy it with this man’s skull. Nonetheless, I slammed him into it again, and brought him right up to the motionless lips of my guise so I could tell him something very important.

“You come to me seeking an escape from your lover? Do I look like I deal in petty squabbles of greed? No, I do not think I do. Perhaps i’ll pay your dear wife a visit myself. Now that I see you blathering like some dying animal I have the inspiration to see her.” I had smirked beneath my lips, and from the look the man gave me, I could only assume he could see right through my false face.

Regardless, I continued to teach him what he had to learn.

“There are those in this world that take flesh by the pound, and those that run around mindlessly killing innocents, splattering walls with their filth and their clumsy acts of evil. Ah, that’s the word. Evil. What you just requested of me is so entirely evil that it disgusts me, sir. I do not do the work of evil men, I do the work of necessity. Your request is not necessary. It is evil.” I concluded to him, nestling Whisper up against the side of his head. I let the smoke plume out from the spent shots, the hum of the mist filling his ear and heating his skin as if I had pressed a hot coal against it.

I considered his position. He would likely beg for his life if he had the stones to speak to me again, but he stayed silent.

“Perhaps this is my good deed for the day. I know most men like to keep to that principle, yes? A good deed a day, and it keeps something away. I do this out of charity, though. I have taught you the difference between necessity and evil. Teaching you this lesson is so wholly necessary that I think you’ll be better off in the end.” I informed him kindly, smiling genuinely beneath my mask. My momentary anger had faded away in the rush of my short instruction.

“Worry not, I will let your wife know you sent me, sir. I think I will take pride in teaching her something of value as well.” I assured him, just as I put my final bullet into the side of his head, sending a wave of red out my window.

‘Now it really was blood money.’ I had thought to myself, priding myself on some gallows humor as I heaved the man from his position, and levied him out my door. I dragged him around the perimeter of my home and cast him off down the crags. He sailed down just as swiftly as his money and his blood.

I would have prepared a proper scene for him, but I have little time on my hands. I have a date to prepare for, his wife is waiting! Well, I suppose she is a wife no more. Happily so too, I’d think. Who would want to be married to such a drab and senseless man like that?

I’m sure I will get her to see the light once I come upon her. He kept a photo of her on his person, so at least I have a lead. I merely need to gather my things and head off. I suppose I will have to clean up the mess when I return.

Pigs will be pigs, won’t they?

- Jhin

[movedyourchair505]

Napule Nights - quarantuno

Loads of help from Elana with this one again, she’s a queen. Also, smut warning, hope you enjoy xx

- chapter navigation -

x

The apartment door fell shut, yet Jade was left more startled by the fact that Alexander came to a stop right where he stood, his chin held high, his shoulders straight, his body still visibly tense. She thought for a moment to close the space between them, to move closer but despite his words ringing in her ear, that he needed her, she didn't want to overstep any boundaries, not now and potentially make it worse, for once she didn't know what to say, didn't know if distraction was a good or bad plan, a rare moment in which she didn't know what he needed from her.

Alex stood realising his hands were clenched into fists and he loosened them slowly, stretching his fingers, his chest tensing further when he slowly heard the clicking of her heels behind him, relaxed, slowly, shakily, but when her hands came down on his shoulders, kneading the tension slightly from his muscles, he couldn't help himself, exhaling slowly. “Jade...”

She swallowed, stepping closer so he could feel more of her, that she was right there like he'd asked, and she was relieved when she felt that she was making somewhat making a change, at least evoked a shift in posture, relaxing him slightly. She didn't want to treat him like any less of what he was, didn't want to assume that something bothered him, but it was quite clear that his interior at the moment did not match the exterior, but she pushed herself to speak anyway, at risk, but for the possibility. “Anything you need, Alexander.”

He let out a deep sigh, didn't allow something that was in the past to get a hold of him now and he turned around slowly, leaning into her touch when she placed her hands on his chest. “Come on, pupa” he drawled, clearing his throat quietly. “Weh're goin' up teh the roof.”

Relieved to follow, she held on tightly to his hand as he led her out of the loft and up the stairs, Helders following but staying outside the door when they ascended on a small staircase behind it, Alexander unlocking another door before the fresh air hit her, the breeze tickling her bare skin, yet she was instantly distracted by the spectacle she found herself in.

Lights shone up from the marble stone floor, a white, ornated fence lining the edges, a bar making up one corner, a bubbling, lit up jacuzzi on the other, there was green everywhere, large trees and flowers, a slice of paradise within the lights and sky high buildings that surrounded it, and she found her head turning slowly from side to side, then slowly looking back at him, but pressing her lips together instead of breaking the silence, letting him lead her towards the glow of the water, and she felt an instant urge to dip into the hot bubbles. Despite the warmth of the day, the midnight breeze had cooled the air and made her shiver.

“Take off yehr dress, pupa.”

She needed no telling twice, obeyed instantly and pulled her white dress over her head, licking her lips as she looked at him, stood in nothing but her thong and heels, and the jewel, her eyes wide as she pressed herself up against him again, watched him as he swallowed visibly hard, pursing his lips before he spoke. “Yeh not goin' teh undress meh?”

She hummed, saw the life return to his eyes, wiping away all her hesitation and she slowly ran her hands up his chest, unbuttoning the remaining buttons of his shirt, dipping her head lower to press a kiss to his collarbone, right next to his chain while guiding his suit jacket down his arms, his shirt following and she put them neatly to the side, licking her lips when he'd already unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his shoes, sinking slowly to her knees to push down his tight suit trousers, the smooth material now creasing, then let his underwear follow.

Jade looked up at him with wide eyes, but his hand instantly found its way around her neck to pull her up as an answer to her pleading question, a slight shake of his head and he stepped out of his trousers and underwear, taking a deep breath and already making her miss his touch. He took out his cigarettes from his trousers, then placed them down next to an ashtray by the jacuzzi before he stepped up onto the platform it stood on securely, climbing inside with a hiss of relief as the hot water started washing over his body, turning around and extended his arm to her.

She swallowed, her heart skipping a beat and she took hold of his hand thankfully, stepping out of her heels and ridding herself of little lace remaining on her body, then gracefully climbing in beside him, sighing at the warmth enveloping her, comforting her despite everything, the cold wind still flying through her hair, but the contrast was heavenly.

The darkness of his eyes kept her breath shallow, she was ready to tend to his every need, to act like this evening was no different to any other, or to treat him like the authority he was, to do whatever he felt suitable, but he broke instantly through her thoughts, his voice cutting through the silence between them, mumbling while he turned to draw a cigarette from the pack behind him, the flame dancing on his lighter before he lit the smoke and took a deep drag.

“I should've known sooner.”

Jade swallowed, pressing her lips together, waiting for a few moments, and as expected, she did not have to wait long for him to continue, her eyes locked on his when he looked up, somehow encouraging him that it was safe to elaborate, it was all it took.

“Sheh were wif them all this time...” he muttered, she could tell even though his hands were below the surface that his hands were balled into fists. “Been probableh tellin' them even more than I thought, I … I should've known...” he sighed, shaking his head, his lip stretching upwards as he spoke before he took another drag from his cigarette.

She shook her head slowly, was trying to let him finish, but she couldn't bear it. “No...” she said quietly. “Alexander, it's not your fault. You can't blame yourself for this. You had no way of knowing.”

“Fookin'...” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I'm Alexander Turner, 's me job teh kno'. After evrehfin' … fookin'ell, after all the damage sheh done, I thought sheh were gone, 'ad enough digniteh teh leave and feel ashamed but all this time … sheh were 'ere, she knew...”

She moved closer to him, taking a breath, before she could open her mouth this time, he already spoke again.

“When yeh saw 'er...” he said, his eyes wide as he stared back at her. “Back when … yeh kno' … sheh were there when Alfonso talked t'yeh?”

Jade pressed her lips together, already sensing what question he was slowly approaching, and she knew he would not like the answer. “Yes...”

Alex swallowed, the look on her face said it all, said that she knew his question, and was already offering a silent answer. “Rehyt...” he said quietly, diverting his gaze and crushing his cigarette in the ashtray on the side, then looking at the bubbles on the surface, tried to focus on something, anything but the war raging in his head. He had to be sure, couldn't bear any more uncertainty, but at the same time, he wanted to never think about any of it again. “So … 'er and … 'im...” he said, biting his lip, his eyes snapping up to look at her again. “Reyht?”

Her nod was barely visible, she hated that it was so important to him that he needed to know, even though she understood the reason, too affected by the look in his eyes to question it and she wondered now that she had a face to the name, to the damage if she'd physically been where she herself was right now, yet well aware that due to everything, due to the way he looked at her, searched for her hand underneath the water, she suited it better than her, suited him better and looked better, was better.

“'s so fookin' embarrassin'...” he muttered through gritted teeth, shaking his head. “Tha' 'e's got wha' I 'ad now, tha' … fook...”

Jade shook her head, squeezing his hand lightly as it came to rest on her thigh and he once again avoided looking at her. “More embarrassing for him, isn't it?” She asked. “That he is where you already were.”

Instantly, his gaze locked back with hers, the hint of a smile playing around her lips making his heartbeat tumble momentarily. She believed her own words, didn't look at him any different, judged everybody else more than him. “'s embarrassin' because she 'elped 'im. Especialleh after sheh fooled meh.”

Again, she shook her head, could sense that he was letting her see something he probably had never intended for anyone else to see, not then, certainly not now. “You know better. And you've proven that it doesn't faze you now, that you're strong, that you're powerful and that none of what he does, what she does matters to you, that you won't budge, that you won't agree to their deal just because they brought her like some sort of strategy. You didn't fall for it, Alexander, they were trying to get to you and you walked away the stronger man.”

He was silent, but she could tell that her words did not completely go past him and he breathed in slowly, his jaw tensing.

She felt like with the little he had shared now, there was not much to fill in now, that she knew what there was to know, and she didn't want to force anything, but there was something she could not shake, something she needed to know to assess how to move forward. “Did you love her?”

He blinked, swallowing hard, then blinking again before his face fell, and he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I dunno honestleh. I thought I did. She told meh she loved meh.” He pressed his lips together. “I knew it weren't fair not teh trust yeh, teh let 'er be the reason teh change 'ow I fink. I joost...” He sighed, scratching at his jaw. “Didn't fink there'd beh anehbodeh else, tha knows?”

Her eyes widened, her lips parting with a quiet gasp. “I won't betray you, Alexander.”

His brows furrowed, his eyes darkening. “I fookin' kno' tha'.”

Jade nodded slowly, saw the shift behind his gaze, tilting her head to the side as she waited for him to speak, knew now that if she was here with him, if she had made it this far, that he needed no reassuring that she was not going to repeat history.

“C'mere.”

He gave a pointed look from her own body to his, humming with approval when she shifted to sit in his lap, her legs pressing to either side of him, his fingers once again coming up to close around her neck and she lifted her chin to maintain his gaze, sighing softly, his familiar touch as welcomed as ever, now that she was close she was instantly intoxicated by the familiar cloud of smoke as well his now fading cologne.

“Alexander...” she whispered, felt him hard between her legs, igniting a fire within her and she instinctively moved to grind forward, purring with delight when she made his eyes widened, elicited a low, guttural moan from deep within his chest, the intensity of his gaze wild, his other hand coming down on her hip to steady her, then moving to press flat against the small of her back to curve her body towards him.

“I told yeh I need yeh, pupa” he drawled impatiently. “Get teh work. I want yeh teh ride meh.”

She needed no telling twice, steadying herself with her hand on his shoulder before lifting her hips, her other hand under the surface gripping the base of his cock, giving him a few tugs that had his eyes threatening to fall shut and she lined him up with her entrance, her back arching and lips parting with a long moan when she sank down on him without him holding her hips and restricting his movements, allowing her to take him all the way, his now hard length throbbing inside her, stretching her, filling her blissfully.

“Mmmm, thaaa's it, doll...” he drawled, his voice deep, thick with pleasure. “Fook, tha's fookin' good...”

She whimpered, steadying herself on his shoulders with both hands, breathing shakily because of how tight she felt around him, her walls squeezing him, the sensation of the stretch, the burn he ignited inside her overwhelming, her nails digging into his skin, the praise falling from his lips only fuelling her and she gasped as she lifted her hips, let him almost slip out before sinking down on him again, whining softly.

Alex groaned, his fingers tightening slightly around her throat, his eyes locked on hers, challenging her to hold his gaze, to keep her eyes open and focused on his. “D'yeh want meh, Jade?” He asked, stretching his jaw.

Her breath was shallow, her eyes open and wild and silently begging him to maintain control. She loved the way he trusted her, let her work for him and guided her into submission on a level where he knew she was going to what he wanted without him forcing her down, dominating her physically, but rather trusted her to please him, as well as take what she wanted. “S-So bad...” she whispered.

He hummed with satisfaction, the hint of a smile playing tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Rock yehrself back on meh, Jade...” he commanded, licking his lips as his eyes stayed on hers watchfully, his thumb pressing into the soft skin below her chin to angle her head up higher, for her to keep her gaze on him, to see the pleasure he evoked inside her in her eyes. “Show meh yeh want meh.”

She moaned quietly, found it harder to move now that he held on to her and held her in place, directing and restricting her movements, yet asking her to do as he pleased and she slowly started to rock her hips on him as much as she could, whimpering at the way his cock rubbed at her walls, pushed in and out of her, the friction tight, burning, hot between her legs, her eyes falling shut momentarily as she couldn't take the pleasure, her back arching, her head aching to fall back, but he gave a slight squeeze of his hand, made her eyes snap right back open, the blur focusing on him and he could feel her getting wetter as she whined, bounced on him, rolling her hips into his desperately, the water easing her task slightly.

“Mmm, makes yehr cunt drool, dunnit?” He chuckled darkly. “Me 'and 'round yehr neck? D'yeh need meh teh call yeh summat dirteh? Make yeh tell meh 'ow mooch yeh want meh?”

“A-Alexander, fuck...” she whined when his hips snapped out into hers and he filled her up hard, deep, his hand clamping down on her hip to hold her in place, cease her movements to take it upon himself to set the pace, her mouth falling open as she looked at him with wide eyes, her breath hitching in her throat as she took his thrusts gratefully, moaning each time his throbbing cock pushed deep inside her, tending to the ache she had for him, desperate for more, trying to move with him, to angle her hips to get him to sink deeper, her knees knocking against the hard surface of the seat.

“Yeh're me fookin' good girl, aren't yeh?” He drawled, stroking his thumb across her chin. “Keep yehr eyes on meh, doll, I'm gunna fook yeh until yeh're sore...”

She mewled softly, the lust growing behind her gaze and between her legs as she heard his words, desperate for him to stick to them, to make them come true, her eyes widening with need. “P-Please...” she whispered.

He hummed. “Mmm, yeh...” he panted, his voice shaky, his chest rising and falling quickly, the heat of the pool contrasting the breeze that cooled his skin, his forehead shiny with sweat. “Yeh like tha', dun't yeh? Like feelin' meh even when I'm done wif yeh...”

She nodded eagerly, whimpering when he filled her up hard again with no regard to shaking the water around them. “H-Harder” she begged. “I … I need it, please...”

He moaned with satisfaction as he felt her trying to move her hips with his, licking his lips, his eyes never leaving hers and he buried himself deep inside her, stilling his hips and holding her in place, making her feel every inch of him, feeling the way her walls fluttered around him, struggling to take him, desperate for him to create the friction she was aching for. “Can yeh feel meh deep inside yeh, principessa?” He teased. “Tha's it … moan for meh, pupa, moan for me cock...”

“A-Alexander, please...” she whimpered when he didn't give in to her pleas. “I … o-oh, fuck, I'll do whatever you want, just please...”

He chuckled darkly, tilting his head, his fingers caressing her throat. “D'yeh ever hate meh for the way I fook yeh up, Jade?” He groaned through gritted teeth, watching the pleasure creasing her smooth skin as he slowly started moving again, drawing tears that made the emerald of her eyes shine brighter than the stone around her neck.

“I love it, Alexander...” she whimpered. “I-I love you...”

His control faltered when he heard her words, saw the need in her eyes, the rawness of it all, his hand moving to the back of her neck to pull her closer, press her chest up against his, his grip simultaneously loosening on her hip so she could move with him, slamming her hips together as she bounced in his lap, clinging on desperately to him as she ached for more friction. “Yeh like when it 'urts, dun't yeh, pupa?”

She whimpered needily, panting. “It hurts so good, baby...” she whispered, her fingers moving up to take a fistful of his hair, gripping, pulling as she moaned loudly, his hand cupping the back of her head and she leaned needily into his touch, her breath shaking.

“Tell meh yeh're never gunna leave meh, Jade...” he panted, his deep brown eyes wide, hopeful, his voice strained as he groaned for her to cure the nature of his demand.

“Alexander...” she whispered, looking back at him in disbelief, hoping that he didn't need the reassurance, that he knew.

He groaned, his brows furrowing, eyes darkening. “Tell meh.”

Her eyes softened, threatened to roll back when he thrust up hard inside her again. “I won't” she whimpered, her breath shaking. “Y-You know I won't, I promise.”

He felt her walls contracting around him, could tell she was close and the way she drew him in had him reeling, struggling to hold on and without a warning she brought his fingers down between them, letting out a strangled moan when he twitched inside her, rolling his thumb against her clit harshly. “Cum for meh” he grunted, his voice trailing off into a moan as he felt her body tense, a string of desperate moans spilling from her lips.

“Ooooh, Alexander...” she cried.

He groaned at her nails digging into his skin, the beauty of her face underlined only by the pleasure he evoked within her, the way she pulled on his hair to hold on, squeezed around him and rocked herself on his cock to ride out their orgasms when he allowed her driving him wild and he watched her in awe, licking his lips eagerly when she calmed slowly, the movements of her hips slowing and without warning he gripped the underside of her thigh to lift her off his cock, the muscles in his arm straining, sighing at the loss of friction and heat around his cock, yet disregarding her soft whimper when he left her empty for a split second before forcing two fingers inside her, felt her slick with their arousal mixing, curling his fingers harshly inside her and gripping on to her throat again to keep her where she was, reveling in the feeling of how tight she had to hold on to him to not lose leverage with her knees shaking, unable to hold herself down on either side of his body.

She gasped loudly, taken off guard but welcoming the elongated pleasure, the afterglow of her orgasm intensifying the tightness and heat between her legs, his fingers not as snug of a fit as his cock, but he added more and more pressure to her clit with his thumb, the moans he drew form her obscene, almost embarrassing with how badly she wanted him, but she kept her gaze locked on his, whimpering when he curled his fingers harshly inside her over and over again, stroking at her walls until he had her whole body trembling again, had her writhing in his lap, completely at his mercy, her knees knocking against the seat harshly.

“Theeere we go, pupa, fookin' gorgeous...”

Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she came down again, her eyes wild with bliss, her skin flushed from the heat of the pool as well as the pleasure he'd evoked from deep inside her and she pressed her lips together, trying desperately to slow her breath as his grip on her loosened again, drawing his fingers from her.

She knew he was striving desperately for a control he after the meeting saught to intensify, had not quite made up his mind, but he refused to be humiliated even though she hoped he knew that she never would have perceived it that way, had never seen anything but authority and power when she'd looked at him, had never questioned him nor doubted his superiority, and she knew it didn't bother him who had betrayed and humiliated him, it was that it'd happened and how people perceived him because of it, a potential threat to the image, the realistic reflection of his strength and power.

He was silent for a few moments, looked back at her with a blur of expectation and adoration, his fingers now smoothing down her back, only adding pressure at the small of her back to pull her in closer. His thoughts were running wild now that the bliss and lust were lifting from his mind, now that he was forced to think about it all again, and he knew that if he had her to fall back on, to support him and could rely on her never betraying him the way he'd been betrayed before, it would give them a feeling he hadn't known he'd craved all along, only this time it would be real, something he could really fall back on.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard him speak and break the silence, had not expected her name to fall from his lips when she sensed he was trying to conceal the hurt in his voice. “Jade” he drawled. “Dun't yeh leave meh.” The look in his eyes was dark, and even had he not spoken to her with that tone of authority that attracted her more to him than anything, she would have promised him anything, be it on the rooftop with the warm water bubbling around them, the throbbing between her legs a reminder of the satisfaction he never failed to give her, or in any other, there was no need for him to coax the words from her, nor demand them. She gave him everything gladly, gratefully, needed him just as much as he needed her and she breathed out shakily when she felt him cup her face, nuzzling instantly into his touch, wanting nothing more but to wipe the tension from his features.

“I will never” she whispered, could sense what his mind had wandered to again and was desperate to draw him right back again. “You're the most incredible man I know, Alexander. I'm all yours.”

Alex exhaled shakily, resisting the urge to close his eyes as he couldn't stand not looking at her, making sure to see, to not miss anything. “I luv yeh, Jade” he drawled, closing the space between their faces and capturing her lips in a deep kiss, eager and hungry, all-consuming, he drew her in, felt her sticky skin press up against him, the water bubbling around them as their lips moved in sync, their tongues dancing.

She could feel his heart thudding strongly in his chest, pressed up against her own, matching, and she moaned quietly, tugged lightly on his hair and only causing him to kiss her harder, left her needy as well as satisfied when he drew back, his hand clamping at the back of her neck to hold her in place, his half-lidded gaze making her heart stop momentarily when her eyes fluttered open as he pressed his sweaty forehead to hers, his breath shaking as the hint of a smile made the corner of his lip twitch upwards.

She smiled weakly, her breath equally as uneven. “I know” she whispered. “I love you.”

[florbexter]

Hi my first time doing this but I love your stories. Can I have a TinCan when they are already in a relationship and is Tin's birthday. Can is used to his family a friends celebrating and showing affection so he is trying to do the same for Tin but when he gets a little emotional he finds out that his family has always ignored his birthday & never celebrated it so he tells his mom and they give Tin a real birthday celebration with cake, food, songs, kisses and all the love he never had before.

@julianswarren Thank you so much for taking the leap of faith and sending me a prompt. I’m honoured that you chose me :) and thank you so much for your nice words.

I hope this is going to be what you were looking for and wish you a Happy New Year!

 TinCan Ficlet [AO3]

Can got the message on the 9th of November in the morning. He wasn’t really awake, so he just grabbed the phone from the bedside table and lied back, the phone forgotten in his hand. It didn’t stop vibrating.“Why doesn’t he have anything better to do than text me in the middle of the night?”, he asked his pillow with closed eyes. After a few minutes, he squinted at the screen and frowned because it wasn’t Tin who had messaged him. It was Ai Pete.

‘I’m not sure if he already told you.’‘I mean Ai Tin.’‘Maybe he did, but if he didn’t I want you to know that Tin’s birthday is on November the 11th.’

Can read the message again. He sat up in a rush and tried to unlock his phone as fast as possible. He had no idea how but instead it slipped out of his hands and fell to the floor.

“Shit, dammit,” he cursed. He climbed out of the bed and joined his phone on the carpet. The line chat opened up, but Ai Pete’s message stayed the same. It was Tin’s birthday in two days.

Why didn’t he know that?

He opened his line chat with Tin, but there was nothing new, the pictures Tin always sent before he went to bed and Can’s memes Can sent back because cheesy goodnight messages made him blush.

He bit his lower lip and typed.

‘Is the 11th November your birthday?’

‘Good morning to you too Cantaloupe,’ was the fast reply. Can rolled his eyes.

‘Is it??’‘Yes. Why?’

“Why? Why he asks?” The nerve of this guy. ‘It’s your birthday!’‘No need for exclamation marks. It’s just another day.’

“Another day?”, Can yelled at the screen. How can he… how?? This was… blasphemy!

“Ley!”, he shouted. He thumped against the wall, but no answer. She wasn’t in her room when he went looking so he scampered down the stairs. Gucci lifted his head for a second, saw it was just Can and went back to sleep with a huff.

“Ley?” “Your sister is out with her friends!”, his mum yelled back from the garden. Great! The one time he wanted his sister’s help for his relationship and she wasn’t available.

“Why are you yelling? It’s Sunday and you’re awake before noon. Are you ill?” His mum slipped out of her garden shoes and smacked him with some sunflowers.

“It’s Tin’s birthday in two days.”“Oh? How exciting, are you two doing something nice together?”

Can took a deep breath. His mum had to be strong now.

“He said it’s just another day.”

The sunflowers fell to the floor and his mum stumbled backwards, falling down dramatically on the chair. She clutched her imaginary pearls. “No!”“Yes!”

“Oh, this poor boy! The young master without love every year alone on his birthday…” Can rolled his eyes and picked up the flowers.“Mum, this is not one of your dramas.” But you’re probably right, he thought. If half of what Tin told about Tul was right he had probably made Tin’s past birthdays as hellish as possible. His phone vibrated and he saw that Tin had sent another message.

‘You can give me kisses for my birthday if you care so much.’

Of course, I care, he wanted to shout but he didn’t want to alarm his mother to the message. He had thought that Tin would tell him his birthdate eventually and he would have more than two days to prepare something for him. This sucked! Would Tin want a birthday party? Did he even know what a birthday party was?

“We should at least invite him to dinner, don’t you think?”

Can nodded vehemently. Screw what Tin wanted. He wanted a birthday party for his boyfriend, so he was going to get a birthday party.

+++

“Why are you so nervous?”

Can looked up and realized that he still gnawed on his fingernail. “I’m not nervous.” To be safe he slid his hands under his thighs. It was his luck that Tin had to concentrate on driving because he wasn’t sure if he could survive an investigation. Tin had the habit to just look at Can until he started to switch and fidget and everything would break out of him.  

“You didn’t invite the football team, right?”

Can rolled his eyes because Tin made it sound like prison gang instead of football team. “It’s just us, my mum, dad, Ley and you. No one else invited.” Maybe he should have invited someone? But Tin was in a very weird state with Can’s friends at the moment.

He always said he tolerated Good which was a lie. He liked Good and they had a weird silent communication thing going on between them. Can wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He glared at P’Techno a lot wherefore P’Type glared at Tin in return. P’Champ wanted to invite Tin to drink with them all the time but Can hadn’t confronted Tin with drunk-Can yet and wanted to save that for a special occasion. Everyone else of the team was nervous around Tin.

Maybe he should have invited Ai Pete? But Ai Pete wouldn’t come without Ae and then Ae and Tin would sit across each other playing who would blink first.

No. Thank you.

If he was absolutely earnest with himself the idea to have Ai Pete at the party didn’t sit right with him. He liked Ai Pete. A lot, but… The pictures of Ley on that damn Twitter account were still in his mind and he didn’t like how everyone had commented under the picture how perfect Tin and Pete looked next to each other.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Tin’s frown was directed at the street and made Can feel a little guilty.“Peachy,” he said and cringed inwardly.

Tin stopped the car in front of Can’s house and Can knew he had to act quick before Tin would start to ask questions.

He hastily unfastened his seatbelt and grabbed Tin by the neck. As always Tin simply waited for him and for a moment Can just pressed their lips together until Tin let go of the steering wheel and laid his hands on Can’s waist and stroked him as if he wanted to pet the nervousness out of him.

Tin tilted his head and made soft sounds as Can nipped at his lips. There was always a point when Can’s self-confident vanished and Tin seemed to feel it every time. He flicked the tip of his tongue against Can’s lower lip and Can gasped, his insecurities forgotten. Finally, Tin curved one of his hands along Can’s jawline and licked into Can’s mouth teasingly. Can felt shivery and aroused and if his heart would burst out of his chest. He had to break the kiss to take huge gulps of air and before he forgot why they were sitting in Tin’s car in front of Can’s house.

“Your first birthday kiss,” he murmured and his voice shook a little. Sometimes he was afraid of all the feelings Tin evoked in him. Tin stroked over his hair and played with his earlobe. Can liked that a lot and he saw in Tin’s eyes the same fears so it was okay. “There will be more?” Tin’s voice sounded hoarse and Can was sure if he asked him to start the car, turn around and drive them back to Tin’s apartment he would do so. But they had a party to attend.

“Maybe,” he answered cheerfully and climbed out of the car. He opened Tin’s door because he took too long and grabbed his arm to drag him along.

He knew that Tin braced himself for Can’s family to yell Happy Birthday at him the moment they entered the house and they did. With thrown confetti and party hats and a big, bright cake with candles. And Tin wasn’t prepared at all. He squeezed Can’s hand hard but Can let him go so that his mum could force him to bend down to her height and hug him. Ley ordered him to blow out the candles and Can made him pose with Gucci, who wore a bowtie for the special occasion. They sang to Tin and it was loud and out of tune and Can’s mum filmed everything.

“Presents,” Can yelled and made Tin sit on the couch. “No presents… I don’t need…”“PRESENTS!”, Can shouted over Tin’s protest and at the end of the day, he wouldn’t remember what they gave Tin. He remembered that he gave Tin a birthday party with only four guests but all the warmth of a real family. He remembered Tin’s smile and his shining eyes and how he pressed his face in Can’s neck as if he wanted nothing else but to stay there for the rest of his life.

“Thank you,” he whispered against his skin and Can felt words stuck in his throat. Words he would say to Tin eventually, but not today. “Happy birthday,” he said instead.

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

Part 12

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else? 

@walkerinfolkvangr @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject  @krsnlove @littleblossom357   @annekebbphotography  @gibbles82  @bella-ca 

Masterlist

Part 12

Amanda couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable Maxwell was with asking her to dinner. Thomas was even worse. She pushed her hair out of her face before addressing the reluctant invitation.

"Maxwell, we don't have anything to fix. I know in your own way you were looking out for me."

His eyes narrowed. "No, I was trying to make you see things as they really are."

The olive branch she had offered burned between them as they glared at one another. He looked away first and began again. "Look, Nadia made me promise to do this and to," he held his fingers up as quotations marks, "heal the gulf that has parted us."

Amanda rubbed her temple. She looked up at Thomas and his stony expression. No help there, she thought. "When does she want us to go?" She felt Thomas stiffen and begin to move away. She put her arm around his waist to stop him.

Maxwell let his breath out. "Would tomorrow be okay?"

"Sure."

"I will come by around four." He said as he began to leave.

"Wait! Why so early?"

"Nadia booked a private dining room in a restaurant two hours from here. She, uh, she figured the long car drive back and forth would help." He quickly left with a wave.

Amanda shut the study door and locked it. "Thomas, I--"

"Have a date. A rather long one. Let's see. Two hours there, let's say it takes two hours to eat, then two hours home. Six hours at the very least spent with the man you were in love with for years." He folded his arms and leaned against the desk.

She lowered her eyes. He hadn't yelled or been sarcastic. He had simply stated the facts. "Nadia would have make us do something else if I had refused."

"She can't make you do something you don't want to do."

Amanda closed her eyes. "If she demanded this then he must be moping. She can't stand to see him unhappy and will do all she can to make things right."

"I see." He pushed off from the desk, unlocked the door, and walked out.

"Thomas! Please..."

He stopped and waited her to find the words. "I don't feel anything other than friendship for him."

His eyes softened as he walked over to her. "I believe tomorrow we will find out how true those words are."

Amanda covered her mouth when he walked away. The tears began to fall and she went back into her study, locking the door.

Later that night, Thomas paced back and forth in their bedroom, wondering if she was ever going to leave the study. He checked the time and saw it was half past one in the morning. He stormed out with a skeleton key she had given him and went down to the study. He tried the handle, then slipped the key in, and unlocked it.

He stepped in quietly when he noticed her asleep on the couch. He could easily see the dried tear streaks on her face. Her dreams were troubled, if her furrowed brow gave any indication. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then one to her lips.

Her lashes fluttered before focusing on him. She started to smile, to only look away from him. She sat up and scooted off the couch. Her arms were covered in chill bumps.

He took his robe off and placed it around her, lifting her hair out from under its collar. She bit down on her lip and began to silently cry at his sweet gestures. He paused when he saw her tears falling again. His arms slipped around her while she cried. She held on to him as a sob broke through.

"Don't cry." He whispered as he wiped her tears.

She looked up at him. "If...if I had never said anything about Maxwell, would you be as upset with my going to dinner to try and fix the friendship?"

He closed his eyes and considered her question. "No. I don't think I would have reacted the same as I did." He stared in surprise when she moved out of his arms.

She walked over to her desk and handed him a set of papers. "I finished the screenplay. In case you," She shook her head and left him standing in the study. He flipped through it and marveled at the final scenes she had written. Thomas thought over what she said and he hurried after her.

He waited until they were in their bedroom before questioning her. "In case I what?"

She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked away from his penetrating gaze. "In case you decided to return to California earlier than planned."

His eyes narrowed. "You mean leave you!"

Her temper snapped at his tone. "You practically have me falling under his spell. I wonder if you will ever believe that I don't feel that way about Maxwell. I realized after falling in love with you that what I originally felt for him was merely a minor crush." Her hazel eyes darkened as she searched his for understanding. "I can't fight against thoughts."

She took his robe off and handed it to him. Amanda grabbed her nightgown and went into the bathroom, leaving Thomas feeling frustrated and guilty. He stepped out on the balcony and thought of everything she had shared that night of his surprise party.

She had said that she no longer believed she had romantic feelings for Maxwell. That maybe they weren't as strong as she had originally thought. He didn't think, given the type of person she was, that she would have agreed to his suggestion to try and see if they could have a real marriage, especially when he had offered an "in name only" option...not if she were in love with someone else.

He gripped the balustrade and lowered his head. He had never been known to be a jealous person. He knew it wasn't a distrust in her, but rather a thought of how sad it would be for her to discover her feelings had been genuine for Maxwell and she was stuck in a marriage with someone else.

Amanda walked outside and gently touched his back. He turned swiftly and kissed her. His lips moved over hers with an urgency. It felt like there was an hourglass with sand steadily depleting the time he had with her heart.

They stumbled back inside and she pulled away from him. "Thomas? Please believe me when I say that you are the only one I am in love with." He swallowed uncomfortably.

"I believe you." He said softly.

She pulled him closer. "Then what is it?"

He had never found it easy speaking of how he truly felt. He could evoke so much emotion in his films, but when it came down to voice what was in his heart...his fears...

He took a few steps away from her as he tried to tell her. "Tomorrow evening, you will be alone with the one man that you thought for years that you were meant for. I--"

"But I don't think that now! I know who I am meant to be with." Her frustration made her stress each word.

He ran a hand over his face as he tried again. "What happens when after spending hours together, you realize that your feelings, past feelings," he corrected when he saw her about to interrupt. "That those feelings were actually true?"

She shook her head. "If they were true, don't you think it would have hit me as soon as I saw him?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to make her understand. "You were fighting with him. I doubt you would feel love with someone making you angry. I--"

"You are making me extremely angry and I still know that I love you. If you were to walk out and leave me, I would be heartbroken. I can't even comprehend how I would be." She folded her arms and held his gaze. "I was crying over you in the study, not Maxwell. Everything I have done the past month, possibly longer, has been because of how I feel about you. Maxwell was not the one who was on my mind when we married nor on our honeymoon. In fact, I thought very little over him during the time I spent with you in California."

He stood there silently listening as she continued her argument. His facial expression showed nothing of the emotions churning inside of him. He wanted to believe her. He did believe her, but what if once they were reconciled that deeper emotion crept back in.

"I'm not going to go. I will call, settle our differences, and stay home. This is not worth losing you over." She said as she searched for her cell phone.

Thomas stopped her. "Don't. Go to dinner."

Amanda could feel the tears building up. She could not understand him at all. "Thomas, please let me cancel this and we go back to how things were. I can't stand you doubting me."

He took her hands and felt a trickle of guilt as he looked at her. "We need to know. Both of us need this so that we will never wonder or fear a moment."

"I already know!" She wailed. Amanda jerked her hands from him, tired of hearing his calm voice repeat the same thing over and over again. She pulled the covers back and got into bed, exhausted from crying and trying to talk sense into the one man she had believed had a good deal of it to begin with. Now she wasn't so sure.

"Amanda? Are you going to--"

"Right now, I'm going to bed. I've said the same thing repeatedly. It's either not what you want to hear or are willing to accept. I can't keep arguing. I don't want to."

Thomas knew he wasn't making sense to her. He had that same urgency in him that he had when they married. This dinner needed to happen. He had to know without lingering doubts that she wanted him above all others. He could very well be causing his own heartache by pushing her into this. He frowned as she turned on her side. "Aren't you going to come to bed?" She asked softly.

His eyes widened in surprise. She propped herself up on her elbow and waited until he laid down next to her. She turned the lamp off and rolled over to look at him. He was on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. It reminded her of how he was at the beginning of their honeymoon, his thoughts keeping him awake during the night.

She wished it was thoughts of sweeping her off her feet that he was thinking instead of tomorrow night being the end of what they had together. Amanda reached over and placed her hand over his heart. She felt the jolt he gave with her surprising him. He slipped his hand over hers and lightly caressed the back of her hand.

After a long silence, Thomas turned his head and saw she was still awake. He rolled on his side facing her and tried to explain his reasoning. "I need you to meet with Maxwell and truly test your feelings."

Her brow furrowed. "Why? Do you think I don't know my own heart?"

"No. I don't doubt you, but rather I..." he frowned as he confessed, "I doubt myself in winning your whole heart."

Her face softened as she looked at him. She slipped her hand in his. "Whether you meant to or not, you had me falling for you from the moment I met you. I thought you were handsome, then I saw how kind you are. You were so patient with me learning how to do the screenplay. You made me laugh when I needed to and actually listened to me. You made it impossible for me not to lose my heart to you. I dreaded finishing the screenplay, because it would mean I would no reason to remain with you."

She let out a low laugh. "And then you only stole more pieces of my heart when you charged in to save me from having to be a suitor. Knowing you had feelings for me stunned me. Then the way you acted on our honeymoon...how could I not lose myself completely to you?"

He gently caressed her cheek and kissed her. Thomas focused on her eyes as he spoke. "When I told you what I wanted..."

"You have it. My heart, thoughts, all of it is yours."

He closed his eyes for a moment before looking at her. "All I am is yours also."

The next morning Amanda woke up and quickly called Maxwell. She snuck about getting dressed while Thomas slept. She hurried downstairs and went down to the rocky beach behind her home. A few minutes later, Maxwell arrived with doughnuts. He plopped down next to her and opened the box, giving her first choice.

She smiled at the peace offering and picked up a devil's food doughnut. He grabbed a chocolate cream filled one and set the box between them. "Thanks for meeting me now instead of tonight."

He nodded. "No problem. Nadia and I will go to the restaurant tonight so it won't be a waste." He took a bite of his doughnut as he watched the waves. He took a deep breath and turned to her. "Amanda, I'm sorry for the way I have been acting."

"Would you mind telling me what has made you so against my marriage?"

Maxwell avoided her eyes for a moment. "First, would you answer a question for me?"

"Sure." A teasing glint came into her eyes and she nudged him. "Was that the question?"

He snorted and shook his head, a ghost of a grin forming. "Heh. No. Is your marriage one....of love?"

She nodded. "Yes it is."

His relief was visible as he relaxed and actually smiled at her. "Yeah?"

"We love each other." A blush formed on her cheeks. "A lot. He means everything to me and it seems I do to him."

Maxwell pulled her into a side hug, squashing the box of doughnuts. "I am so happy for you!"

She glanced down and lifted the lid. There were a few crushed while others were saved. She reached in and grabbed another one to eat. "What made you think I didn't?"

He froze a moment and cleared his throat. "I...I know the reason you married so quickly."

"What?! Oh my...does Liam know?" She closed her eyes thinking of how hurt and guilty he would feel.

Maxwell stared at her in puzzlement. "I'm not sure if he knows or not."

Amanda put her half eaten doughnut down. "Poor Liam. He must feel horrible. I'm going to have to call him."

"Why would Liam feel horrible?"

"Because that is what prompted Thomas to propose we get married! I don't want Liam to think I found the idea of being his suitor repulsive."

Maxwell's blue eyes widened as he comprehended her words. "You married Thomas to keep from having to possibly marry Liam!"

"Well, yeah. You just said you knew why we married so fast." Her brow was furrowed as she noticed he was even more relieved than before. "Maxwell? Why did you think I got married so soon?"

His cheeks turned red and he tossed what was left of his fourth doughnut toward some seagulls. "I...okay, promise me this will not make you angry or embarrassed."

Amanda took a deep breath when it hit her. "You know? How? When?"

Maxwell winced at her squeaky voice. "I was walking by when Olivia asked you on the phone, right after you got married."

Amanda covered her face with her hands. "That's when you started in on my making a mistake." She said, her voice muffled by her hands.

He placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Hey. It's okay. I was unhappy at the thought that my marriage may have caused you to ruin your life. I wanted to fix it for you and help you find love. But now that you have Thomas, I don't have to worry anymore. Right?"

Amanda nodded and lifted her head. "If it's any consolation, once I realized how much I loved Thomas, I realized I didn't really love you. I mean I do as my best friend, but the previous feelings I had were more of a crush."

Maxwell's dimpled grin popped up. "I don't think I have ever loved hearing someone say that they don't love me as much as I do hearing you say it."

She shoved him as a laugh escaped her. "I'm sorry that made you feel guilty."

He shrugged. "It's fine now. You know I don't like to live in the past. Knowing everything is how it should be makes me happy." His eyes widened with realization. "Holy crap! Thomas must think I hate him! I have to fix this. I can't have my bff's true love think he isn't welcomed into the Cordonian fold!"

Amanda began to laugh, picturing Maxwell trying to "welcome" Thomas. She stood up and held her hand out to him. "We good?"

He smiled and took it as he hopped up. "We're perfect." He wrapped her in another tight hug. "So happy to have you back and know you are blissfully in love with your husband."

They walked back to his car and she waved him off with promises that a double date would be planned. She walked back into the house and saw Thomas coming down the stairs. His frown disappeared when he saw her. "Where have you been?" He asked after he kissed her cheek.

"I called Maxwell and had our talk on the beach instead of tonight."

He paled some and focused on her face. "And?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "And he is thrilled that I married the man I am completely in love with."

Thomas smiled and pulled her closer. "He's not the only one." His lips captured hers in a tender kiss.

"That was his reason for acting as he did. He was worried we had married without being in love."

He listened as she told him all that was discussed. He winced when she told him he had overheard her conversation with Olivia. Knowing that all misunderstandings were brought to light and that her feelings had not changed made his own uncertainties fade away. He stole another kiss in the middle of her saying that Maxwell wanted to go on a double date soon.

She let out a laugh and pulled him with her into the kitchen. "By the way, he feels bad for how he has acted toward you. So be prepared for his attempts to rectify that."

Thomas shrugged and went about getting his coffee pot started as she filled her kettle. He wrapped his arms around her, simply enjoying the moment. Holly came rushing in with a look of irritation.

"Thomas, that actress refuses to come here to discuss the role of Elizabeth. She says she has too many responsibilities back home and asks for you to come there." Her fists clinched as if it were an insult to her.

His own dark frown formed hearing that. "I should have known she would feel entitled to such treatment. Perhaps I should find someone else."

Amanda looked between the two. "We can go back if we need to. The season doesn't start for another two weeks. As long as we are back for the masquerade, there shouldn't be a problem."

Thomas felt his frown fall away at her willingness to help. "Are you sure? Didn't you want our portrait done before the season and filming begin?"

"We will figure something out. Perhaps Nadia would be willing to paint it." She dug in her pocket and pulled her phone out. "I'll call the airfield and have them ready the plane and then see if Nadia is interested." She walked out into the hallway as she talked to her pilot.

Holly frowned at Thomas. "Look, I know Lauren is talented but you know how demanding she can be with her directors, her handsome directors. I don't know if this is such a good idea. She seems to love trying to cause problems with their marriages and relationships."

Thomas considered her words. "So I've heard. She would be perfect for Elizabeth though. She and Ryan have a rocky past that would come through perfectly on film. If she remotely acts like she will be a problem, then being back in California will give me a chance to choose someone else."

"I think we ought to go with Matt's Tender Nothings' costar. She is new and has talent. Plus she doesn't seem like a troublemaker. There is no way Matt and Victoria would have put up with her if she had been a problem once Marcus walked off the film." Holly dreaded seeing Thomas trying to placate Lauren Benefield. She also hated the thought of Amanda having to see it happen.

Amanda returned and smiled. "Everything will be ready for us to leave later this afternoon. If Nadia's squeals were any indication, she is more than ready to paint our portrait."

Holly sighed, having secretly wished it was impossible for them to leave. "I'll go tell Addison to pack her bags."

Thomas slipped his arm around Amanda's waist and kissed her cheek. "Thank you." His lips lifted as a thought occurred to him. "You ought to pack clothes and items you would like to leave in our home in California. And if there is anything you wish to change décor or furniture wise, then feel free."

Her smile bloomed at the thought of that truly being her home. "I can't think of anything I would change. But I will go upstairs and pick out what I want there." She gave him a quick kiss and left, planning on what she needed.

Thomas pulled his phone from his pocket and frowned at the text message.

Mr. Hunt I believe we both know that I am made for the role of Elizabeth. I know you are a newlywed and now a noble in Cordonia. You must have quite a busy schedule. But I believe we can come to an arrangement that is beneficial to us both. I plan on seeing you soon. I think it is so much better to share expectations in person. Don't you?

Lauren Benefield