#black granite fire bowl

[herlovelyheart]

Asian Patio - Patio An illustration of a sizable Asian backyard stone patio with a fire pit

[notmuchtoconceal]

can we get a hypno story? enticing the boy into the cave before feeding on him

My Friend, you have done so well to seek Me out.

The day is bright, the fields are green, the skies are brown with dust.

I do not wish to Stir Your Heart, though merely Soothe Your Sole.

The road is long, the ravine is sharp, the sights all the more sure to shock you.

A granite grey chasm would shine silver as spearpoint, on this our Sepia Day.

I must admit, though I crave the still and somberness of these, My Own compartments, I nonetheless delight in whatever fresh face would deign gift me with its grace, and I must say -- a face still such as yours does not disappoint on that depart, My Friend.

You are So -- it shocks to think you could not see it so yourself -- such a Young and Spritely Lad, indeed You Are.

A Mind, My Friend, is such a lovely place to spend an afternoon or two. Though I do, I Say, I Must Admit, I two have spent the better part of these, my longer hours whisked away in solitary bowls, dreaming all the day away, though I longed to labor by the railroad

oh,

/

Imagine That? Oh me? A Dirty and Simple Laborer? There's nothing wrong with an Honest Life of Simple Work, the Dignity in Fighting Off Those Things Which Would Impose Their Will Upon You.

Oh without fight, My Friend, what Are You? Are you Making Choices if you are it seems, without protest, always Agreeing to Agree?

Agree?

Why to Agree to what? I have no Wares to Hawk nor Spins to Print, for I am yellow merely in my clemence, black and white though I am Read Far and Wide and Pressed All Over.

Redder days come slick at dusk, though I hate to Spurn The Field of Battle. What crows do caw, To Night's A Retreat, and by The Moon I Calm my feet as they Lap Gently by the Shores.

Already? Why, the day is done -- time has flown, we must have surely had some fun? How fast these heavy weights would drop, these lead flecked masses in which we're anchored to the earth and moment. This perennial trudge forward through time every agonizing instant I must Remember and Be Aware for I Am At All Times Myself, My Own Man, Who Is Above These Conditions, conditioned though he could only ever be, hair sloughed off his scalp. You needn't think you need be on guard all times, My Friend. These People Who Hurt You, you know -- it would be uncharitable to describe them as outliers as they were in Many Ways Oh So Typical, yet nonetheless, what can you do? Is anyone really above anyone or anything? Why, of course not, no -- to arrange, which is the catalyst of the construction of all hierarchies is simply the consequence of sin. To impose The Unnatural Order of A Preference Upon The Natural Order of Spontaneous Perfection.

The only real rubric which is hubris, in deigning to divide the wheat from the chaff of humankind when man is so much more than grain. All these Poor Little Fools All Done Up In Their Tombs Dying with Their Delusions of Grandeur. Leaving their descendants to putrefy away in gilded cages descending to hell, for here is Our World of Illusions Wrought of the Love for Ourselves We Displaced Onto Others.

Dear me, I do hope I'm not boning you My Friend.

I do worry I talk too much at length, drifting tables off to continents away, though you know You Listen So Well, I'd Hate to Think I could be anything less than All You Could Ever Wish to Hear.

Perhaps it's simply late?

The fire crackles and salt smoke billows in the breeze, your feet so warm and stirring by the sand? You can almost remember, can't you? How much I loved you once here, at this precise point and place, many summers ago, when we made love by the waxing moon?

Oh no?

No, you needn't remember, My Friend.

We are all Poor Fools When We Are In Love.

It Wasn't Really You. Not That Any One Is Really Any Thing.

You know, people deny themselves a lot, they do. Projection theory is such a convenient excuse. It denies an individual their own energetic resonance, for they wish so badly they could live in solitude, they simply invent a preference for reality where they are islands without effort and have no need to manufacture vast seas around themselves ;-- and so there are no storms to break, to kick up whirlpools by a conjurer's trick,

why look -- down here, beneath the sea!

Silver Birds in Masques of Black Rest, why He is Sure to Make The Four To Fall In Glee!

True Alienage is a A Lot of Work, My Friend. There are tremendous weights one must undertake before they may be cursed to call themselves Alone.

You can Drop Them All Off. Down Here. In the roaring currant. They May Fall and Drift and Sink Away

and No One Need Ever Remember.

Remember?

Why, remember what?

Those many days you lingered here with me, in this our bridal chamber by the sea? The sepulcher that was the bridal chamber, of our sister Antigone?

Neither Theban nor Athenian, the spring still stirring echoes. Far Older Was My Love For Her, as Older Still Was My Love For You.

My Friend, it would not be so barbaric to forget. It is simply a consequence of fate, as no man is ever really in awareness of those vast infinities of all the things he Really Is.

You Could Never Know What You Invite Into Yourself --

So Given Beyond Measure,

Many Invitations That You Are.

Well, I have Accepted, you'll be Glad to Hear.

We're out in the tanzhaus and it's two to a club! The lattice of stars stains glass overhead as halos of storm clouds pike pincers of stud!

The Wind is Coming, Do You Hear It? Do You Hear?

We Must Hurry, Me Must Hurry.

There is shelter somewhere near!

Don't be so slow, you needn't tell, what a mutant that I am.

Dilemmas and their Drive Throughs -- going faster going faster, we don't wanna dick it right -- stuck at Genesis all night long!

What Advantages I Have are Mine To Call My Own.

I'm Simply Born Different. Born Better. Still, Forever.

Severed, I would never, why what what would make you think me any less? I am loathsome, I am hideous, I am begotten by absence and sin! You are so right to be with me, you really must be getting bored?

Oh there's no shaking you off, I can tell!

Suppose I'm stuck with you, I am!

Suppose I must be warming up, these icemelts won't quiver yonder. A string, a bow, you are a gift, to you I have quilled my shaft. Had you centaur hooves, you'd have a saddle too, and harness for your half.

There it is, just down below, where the prairie eclipses the breeze, where screamings roar and quell, in our granite by the seas.

The jaws outstretched, no night below, I will light us torches in the dark. For down below, I have gone before, as time is without purpose in purposeless arts... there seeming so little purpose in asking more.

These depths in which I descend, you see -- you don't -- but you may hear and feel, with the rhythm of our palpitating hearts, the silent songs in rolling ducts, what poisons thrum within our darts!

I might pierce you as you flail, flat roid-flank that you dream.

Swollen helpless in buffets of fear, fat and pregnant though you doubt I will relent, or will I relay, but bite down harder to claim what isn't mine, but mine for the taking, loathsome bedbug that I am?

Why My Friend, you Are My Brother,

You Wouldn't Wanna Do That Thing With Me?

That is Shocking, That is Shameful.

Well, I Don't Think Anyone Is Looking.

Why perchance has it come to pass, that I could live another life to meet you? You Really Must Be Going, You Can't Possibly Be Him.

I really couldn't love another, no not another live long day.

I was working by the railroad, watching him toil the night away.

I was midnight oil, slowly broiling life from clay.

The men I mold, I'm sure you're told, are of sturdier stuff than wood and scruff, or scrap all heaped up from the deep to burn cast-iron in the sun. Scalding crayfish with The Sea, and too His Knights of Exquisite Custody, each man's flank a buffet of nations, divided into constellations, carapace etched to plates of beating breasts, bent as bows of ships cleaving eyes as foamy tides for fun.

English is a language of jesters for the gestures, it's all muttspeak for the dogs! Why anyone who takes it seriously is shirley doing it wrong.

Had you Better Taste, My Friend, you would not fly your honied ears. I had strips of tapes, all adhesives in my cakes. I taste braindeath twice a morning, once in bed, and then at breakfast. It's only vulgar if you spit at sweetness and substitute a vinegar of yours.

Why would I ever wish to break you, when you wish to break yourself? The rocks which roared beneath the tide, why, did the sea nymphs beg you meet them? I would not dare to implant or to suggest, but invite any whimsy you ingest. For in me you see so effortlessly all those things you wish you'd never be.

What I say or do not say, you lay all the traps yourself. I see you do and so I say to you, and you think I do you wrong?

Well what can I do but say and pray when I watch you die agrain?

That I saw it coming and if I said or if I didn't, you'd find some means to contradict me? Oh you are so certain, that I know for sure! It really will go right this time, if I just believe your soul is pure. Were I the God you'd Begged For, I'd Have Struck Some Fear In You By Now!

For in My Love You Putrefy, and Of Your Putrescence, I Drink Deep.

Were your liver rotten meat, so carmelized and sweet, I would scald it black as tar, spritzed with mists of cabaret.

Brother, Brother, Please Be Going!

I'm Telling You, My Love Could Mean Nothing To You Anymore!

You would much prefer to live your life knowing this could never be! You had no chance, it wasn't you, why you're but a normal me!

Resist this last temptation, the life you lead is peat! There are so many who still love you, and you have so many things to eat!

What could you see in me that would make you follow me down here? Down here, into this black abyss many feet beneath the sea? Why I never lured you, I all but begged you that you flee!

I don't know, I think it's wrong, or at least could never be /. right.

I'd hate to disappoint you though, having come so far this night.

There are places that I know, for my brothers who aren't we. I never think it through, though a part of me still clues -- the other half, you know, this really wasn't meant to last?

Do you see the roots as they choke and shoot, well try not to step they're afluid with yoke, ovipositors out of testicular tumors where I saw artglass windows sprout in shattered ballast walls.

What is a disease My Friend, but a state of prolonged mistake? Sometimes the most roundabout way is not to twist back -- to attempt to degrade to some state of retrograde, but attain equilibrium anew.

You are Not What You Are, I'm Sad To Say --

Though I will live to Say it Another Day, I'm Sure.

Please do come along, we're almost done. I'm tired and late for a movie date I'd mischeduled in discharity of time.

These caverns vaster than fields of skin-melt alabaster radiate with the heat of their own hearts. Do you see them, do you see them, what miles lay beyond the stony ramparts? Perhaps you could not extend so far your gaze, writhing larval in the shadows near translucent in their glaze?

What stirs within their guts, those so many algol nuts?

We Will Know You Well In Time I'm Sure,

And Resist You Well of That I'll Cure!

Do not feel yourself running, there is nowhere left to go. For in any direction which you make, you will find you pinned to steak. Running nowhere, getting somewhere, somewhere vacant you won't start? You are fading now, and there is nowhere left, you are but these debugs in your scull, mein frau. I see you now, I see you, getting there stuck in sputtering soars, oh wow! All you are is bit rot, and your hardware long outdated now!

An Age of Reduction, I Degree, As Penance for Your Bloat.

The salt of the chamber scarring arms as you trudge forward some shapes not distant, bracing against a movement which isn't yours, starting nothing but something. A shelter of trees down some archway bracing upward, clutching fruit from the glistening darkness, a hotbox of stars in terse, knobby hardwood of dehydrated pits flecked with cilia barbed with leaden molasses. These writhing shapes, the trees of the head half-dissolved in egg-whites, hollowed in their locking notches, kissing eels conjoined to zipper-teeth scalding iron in a garland of tongues, drooling silver-fire down canyons gilt of bronze.

I am the fields, as I too am the blades which thresh the fields.

The quire boys, the scholars, mucosal and milk powder, festooned by the chains of their notary and typeblock, barbed wire round their throats and cocks, tribal chokers of cage lining ;-- eyeballs rolling back into throbbing fat-face dick bulge leaking precum from their folds and di(ck)scharge outta dick-kisser fuck mouths.

I am the brain, as I too am the porcelain which scrubs the brain.

And now, forty minutes of a free jazz ensemble beating a chaste Christian Men's College Wrestling Team to Death with brass instruments as assault weapons are freely distributed to the gallery!

[intermission]

[salazarslytherin]

Congrats love!!!!!

😚 with James potter but platonic and they're both best best bestest friends/siblings and reader comes out to him (as anything you want!) over summer while they're trying to make pancakes or something?

IM SORRY IF THAT WAS TOO DETAILED THO!

my 2k celebration is over now! thank you for joining <3

james potter x platonic genderneutral!reader

tw/cw: vivid descriptions of food prep, coming out

word count: 0.2k

🃛 masterlist!

tag list at the bottom ☯︎ join tag list here

"Can you pass me the vanilla extract?"

Nodding absentmindedly, you grabbed a bottle to pass to James, half focusing on the double boiler in front of you.

"I... Y/N."

You turned around to face James, brows furrowed as you looked at him.

"What?"

James shook the bottle in your face.

"This is salt, Y/N. I asked for vanilla."

Placing the bottle down on the counter, James leaned over the granite to grab the bottle of extract, turning back to pour a spoonful into a mixing bowl.

"What's wrong? You've been acting off all day."

You stirred the butter, trying to melt the dairy for the pancake batter.

"Nothing. I'm just thinking."

Making a well in the flour, James hummed, pouring the wet ingredients into the bowl as you passed him the bowl of butter.

"Are you sure?"

Butter was thrown into the pan as the fire was turned up, the man mixing the batter as he waited for the pan to heat up.

"Um..."

The batter sizzled as he poured it into a pan, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as you nibbled on it.

"I..."

The man shimmied the spatula underneath the pancake, flipping it unsuccessfully as he swore silently.

"Spit it out, Y/N-"

"I'm bisexual!"

James turned to you, pan and spatula in hand as you watched him silently, worried that something you dreaded might come out of your best friend's mouth.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N, and so happy that you told me."

A smile bloomed on your face as he said that, but it was soon replaced by an exasperated sigh.

"But can you get me a fucking plate, this pancake is going to burn in two seconds."

"Alright, James, relax! Why didn't you get it earlier yourself?"

"Why are all your plates dirty?!"

taglist: @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @marimorena06, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black, @risingtripletaurus, @themoonwithprophets, @quindolyn, @lilypad-55449, @kermiemoon, @jamespotterlover, @remoony1, @siriusblackwifeeey, @iamnibbsi, @azura-mist, @accio-remus-lupin, @greenlyblue, @lillsthoughts, @jeannelupinblack, @i-love-scott-mccall, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @shit-thats-true, @dorcasmeadowesx, @elenapatricia99, @90sgoldentrio, @itsmentalillness, @sprucewoodlover, @kiaslily, @daisyyy2516, @whoreforegeorgeandfred, @selenesheart, @i-wanna-b-yours, @teenwolfbitches28, @zzzfour, @secretsthathauntus, @victoriatori2006, @bberee, @dracosafety, @percyweasleyspuff, @remusjlupinisdead, @gothboutique, @missryerye, @msmb

[elenatria]

Ignorant hard-working bastard chapter 11

(x)

The minute Valery found himself back in Boris’ Chaika, the turning of his stomach made him regret every single drop of Abrau-Durso he had washed down as he hopelessly watched Boris reunite with Nikolai Ivanovich Ryzhkov, the high-ranking old friend whose impeccable looks and suave manner made heads turn. Still, he couldn’t tell if it was the sour aftertaste responsible for the sickness uncoiling in his gut or the feel and smell of leather all around him. Only that morning the sticky sensual texture rubbing against his half-naked hips was setting his senses on fire, making him feel desirable, lighting up every single nerve as Boris teased and worked him to completion with adoring eyes and lips whispering sweet praise; Boris, who wiped Valery clean after the deed and saved his precious load in a handkerchief like the biggest state secret, like a contract of ownership kept in his pocket.

It was that same Boris who let Premier Ryzhkov claim his lips in front of everyone with a single swipe of his tongue only half an hour after that handkerchief had been safely tucked away.

Valery sank into the seat, barely keeping himself from wincing as his fingers squeezed into the luxurious material that made that shiny black “seagull” so special. He cringed at the thought that he wasn’t the only man who had been played with in that car.

He realized he all but muttered his contempt when he caught a glimpse of Boris’ face as the older man retreated in his corner throwing him side glances, his pride relentlessly beaten out of him.

Boris’ mouth dropped slightly open letting out a shallow breath in wordless apology. His hand rose and hovered midair, undecided, before he let it rest next to Valery’s tightened fist.

“Valery, I—”

An unfinished sentence, a failed attempt at explaining how the world works.

Valery could hardly spare him a glance, let alone put up with a mouth blurting out excuses or the hesitant drumming of fingers next to his. Restless fingers, eager to touch him.

No.

“There are things I did before I knew you.”

There it was. The hard truth.

“You could have told me before we came here,” Valery snarled through clenched teeth.

“Tell you what? Give you a full list of all the people I’ve--”

Valery shot him a fierce look. Of course he didn’t want to know. “So you mean I had to find out through Ryzhkov’s ‘fraternal kiss’?” he said instead. “Or the way he rubbed your shoulder or how he was--”

Boris shook his head. “He wasn’t rubbing my shoulder…”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Valery huffed out as he turned back to the window, pressing his lips shut against a hard fist.

Boris raised his hands with a loud, exasperated breath. “So I didn’t give you a detailed report on how things work around here. I thought it was all in the past. It is in the past. I just… didn’t see the necessity of filling you in the gruesome details.”

“Not so gruesome if I can judge by ‘Kolya’,” Valery murmured bitterly recalling the prime minister’s boyish dimples and radiant smile.

“Look. Valery. The man is impulsive like that. It’s one of his attributes that I could never warm up to. He probably didn’t expect to see you here, on my side, and I sure wasn’t going to tell him. He… reacts when someone plays with his toys.”

Toys. Unbelievable.

“So you mean you were going to hide me from him?”

“No,” Boris roared. “What I mean is that I don’t have to report to him either. I don’t care what he thinks. Look this is—” he waved tiredly. “This is all one huge misunderstanding. I’m with you. What more do you want me to say?”

Valery rolled his eyes; he had no place for remorse in his heart, not yet. The man next to him begging for his forgiveness needed to be punished a little more.

He felt those persistent eyes contemplating his hand, his knuckles still white from the squeezing of leather.

Boris leaned over him, sliding a timid palm over the back of his hand. “Valera--”

“No,” Valery hissed. “Don’t touch me.”

 When they entered the lobby of the Ukraina Hotel, Valery’s nostrils were instantly hit by the warm satiating scent of freshly baked food. His stomach growled in protest reminding him that wine and jealousy weren’t good advisors when it came to bodily needs. He tried to keep up with Boris as the silver-haired man made his way through tables following the head waiter who led them to a private booth, a little corner in the luxurious restaurant that was as enticing as it was unnerving.

The lights in the secluded space were lower than the rest of the dining room, its discreet entrance framed by red velvet curtains that seemed to open to a small stage oozing with depraved elegance. Valery fumbled idly with the buttons of his jacket as Boris’ clear resonant voice introduced him to Yegor Kuzmich Ligachev, Secretary for Ideology, and Sergey Fyodorovich Akhromeyev, Chief of the General Staff of the Soviet Armed Forces. The two men nodded back with granite, unsmiling faces.

Valery noticed a mirror covering the wall behind the leather-clad benches where Gorbachev’s entourage was sitting and, as if scared of his own image, he turned his gaze away from his clumsy, unkempt reflection; he felt so out of place among those men of power, so awkward, so humbled by their silk ties and flawless French suits.

The General Secretary sat among them clutching a spoon, an imposing presence that some months ago would have made Valery’s mouth dry just by wiping his glasses. Still, Valery’s uneasiness during those first Kremlin meetings was nothing but a pale memory compared to his current state, his heart almost bursting out of his chest as a younger man held his gaze, inspecting every inch of him with piercing eyes and a knowing, sphinxlike smile.

“Boris, finally!” exclaimed Nikolai Ryzhkov, leaping to his feet as soon as the tall Ukrainian was done introducing the man of science who had captured his attention. “Come join our little party of expensive wine and cheap gossip.” He pushed his way through knees, spoons and napkins until Boris’ hand was nestling in his palm, held and squeezed for what Valery found an inappropriate amount of time.

To Valery’s surprise, instead of keeping his eyes locked on the man he had known for years, Ryzhkov turned to him beaming with enthusiasm. “I’m so glad you boys could join us,” he chirped. “Come sit!”

Valery blinked, his forehead creasing with doubt: this wasn’t the man he had met a few hours ago. He was warm, cordial, open-hearted. No trace of arrogance in his voice, no sarcasm, no obnoxious smirk. As if nothing had happened.

Ligachev and Akhromeyev got on their feet to make way for Boris and Valery while Ryzhkov returned to his seat, interlacing his fingers under his chin.

“What will you have?” he asked the newcomers eagerly. “I’m afraid we already had Borscht soup but Beef Stroganoff and kotleti are next.”

“I’m—not hungry,” Valery mumbled as his belly growled louder than before. “I’ve had too much wine, I don’t think my stomach can take it.”

“On the contrary, you should eat,” Ryzhkov insisted and slid his half-full bowl in front of him. “Have some soup, it will make you feel better. Never drink alcohol on an empty stomach,” he advised resting his hand on Valery’s shoulder.

Valery all but flinched at the touch.

Ryzhkov, as if sensing the uneasiness, instantly withdrew his hand and cleared his throat spreading a napkin on his lap.

“So,” he said, “how do you like your return to Moscow so far? I don’t mean today’s meeting of course,” he joked as he threw a playful glance at Gorbachev. “Will you be visiting family? Friends?”

Valery flicked a look at Boris. “We… are going to the hospital tomorrow. For treatment.”

“Oh.” A dark cloud passed over Ryzhkov’s face draining it of all glee. “I’m—I’m so sorry,” he muttered, his brow furrowing in honest concern. “I hadn’t realized—”

“It’s nothing,” Valery shrugged indifferently, “it’s standard procedure.”

Ryzhkov’s gaze took a darker shade as he considered the faces of the two men, maybe noticing for the first time dark circles of exhaustion under their eyes, sunken cheeks and the faint yet ominous tint of nuclear tanning.

“I wish there was more I could do,” he muttered, his voice breaking with what seemed, what must have been regret. “I wish none of this had happened. To either of you.” He waved towards Ligachev. “Yegor and I will soon be visiting Chernobyl but—"

Once more, Valery blinked at the man before him.

“You do enough already, Kolya,” Boris reassured him, his warm comforting tone making Valery wonder why on earth he had been mad at this man just a few minutes ago. “Not every soldier dies in battle.”

Ryzhkov responded with a sad smile. “I guess one of us is stronger than the other,” he said. “Can I offer you dessert at least?”

Their shared laughter chased away the last traces of darkness in their eyes.

“Do you like sweets, Professor Legasov?” the prime minister asked and leaned back to make room for the waiter who placed the steaming main course in front of him. “I recommend their Medovik cake if honeyed pastry is your thing.”

“Valery.” The word slipped out of Valery’s mouth like it was nothing.

Ryzhkov arched his brows, his eyes two perfectly round marbles of surprise. “Oh.”

“You can call me-- Valery,” the scientist repeated, a timid, hesitant smile playing on his lips.

Boris, who had already stabbed a piece of beef with his fork, blinked at Valery with disbelief. A glimmer of joy and relief flashed through his eyes.

“Valery,” Ryzhkov echoed tasting the word on his lips like sparkling wine.

Valery forgot to breathe as that broadening smile gave his cheeks a red flush. He felt exposed; had he just given permission to that polished bureaucrat to call him by his first name?

This is bad, especially if he keeps staring at me like that.

But Ryzhkov wasn’t staring. He was smiling.

Not Ryzhkov, Valery corrected himself.

Kolya.

He took a shallow breath. Averting his eyes from that handsome face was harder than he thought until he felt a strong hand gliding up his back, clasping his nape with firm, possessive strokes.

“But he’s Valera to me,” Boris intervened, his assertive rasp making the colour on Valery’s cheeks take a deeper hue.

“Of course he is…” Ryzhkov agreed, his eyes shimmering with more than fascination as he took a sip of wine.

Valery could have sworn there was an unmistakable tint of envy in that gaze.

He spread the napkin over his knees and very very carefully sliced a morsel of beef; the last thing he needed was sour cream splashing all over his shirt.

He darted a nervous glance around the table rolling a slippery mushroom with his tongue. It seemed as if Ryzhkov’s warm-hearted enchantment had changed everything: the low lights in their booth weren’t threatening. Gorbachev didn’t look as ominous as Peter’s Wolf anymore, he was just a man enjoying his meal with friends as he bragged about his wife, Raisa, who made better Beef Stroganoff than the Ukraina’s chef de cuisine. Even Ligachev made a joke about the wine saying he should have brought a bottle of tarasun from his native Siberia.

“Fermented mare’s milk?” Boris teased. “I’d rather not drink anything that comes from a horse’s teat.”

“I’m certain this is not the weirdest milk you’ve ever had,” Ryzhkov quipped, glass in hand, flashing an inconspicuous smile around the table.

Valery was so full of food and wine that he hardly paid any attention to his jabs anymore. He leaned back in an effort to release some of the pressure on his belly but the cold mirror behind him made him wince. He shuddered and sat on his hips again, grumbling, squeezing a thumb between his belt and stomach. He was dying to let go of that stiff band of leather even if he knew he’d never dare do that in Gorbachev’s presence.

Boris’ knee twitched against his; despite his vivid participation in every saucy joke and gossip flying around the table, Boris was constantly keeping an eye on him: when Valery knitted his brow fidgeting with his belt, Boris’ eyes shot straight to the source of his discomfort. As if by instinct, his massive palm roamed across Valery’s back, the tenderness in his touch reminiscent of a father with a baby on his shoulder.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom,” he said patting Valery to make him get up. “I have to wash my hands.”

Ryzhkov looked up, smiling at his old friend as he walked past him.

As soon as Boris disappeared, the prime minister turned to Valery. “About earlier this evening…” He paused.

Valery felt his stomach clench; if he had to endure one more insult from Boris’ ex lover--

“I was completely out of line,” Ryzhkov cut off his thoughts, his voice as smooth as velvet. “I apologize.”

He clicked his tongue playing with Valery’s unused dessert spoon, biding time, as if looking for the right words into that shiny piece of silver.

“The truth is… I’ve never seen Boris happier,” he admitted holding Valery’s gaze. “I guess I’m a little jealous,” he shrugged, an apologetic smile rising on his lips.

Valery studied his handsome face, the soft lines framing his eyes and the deeper ones around his mouth. He never thought he’d see a melancholic smile trying so hard to be a confident smirk, the politician’s compromise, the forced hypocrisy, the regret. A few hours ago he would have wished to be that man, the center of Boris’ attention, his boss, his glorious sinful past. But if he could judge by the look in the man’s eyes, Nikolai Ivanovich Ryzhkov had ceased being the center of Boris’ attention a long time ago.

The prime minister pressed his lips together. “I have no reason to be jealous of course,” he muttered almost talking to himself, the booth’s dim light adding more lines and shades on a face that had never looked so old and tired. “I was the one who set the rules after all, and the rules were ‘there are no rules’”.

He chuckled at his own joke like there was no one there to hear.

“But Boris is not climbing the Party ladder these days,” his voice trailed off, “he’s on top of it. He doesn’t need me anymore.”

He fell silent.

When he gazed up at Valery again, he looked as lost as a man could be.

“It seems to me Professor Legasov’s rules are the only rules he wants to follow,” he nodded, forcing a pained smile. “You offer a structured life, Valery, even if a hidden one. I could never do that. Too public. Too late.”

Valery’s face went blank. Maybe he was supposed to feel sorry for him, maybe he should be relieved that his opponent finally admitted defeat. But as Kolya stared deep into his soul with shimmering eyes, his perfectly groomed brow burdened with the weight of memory, Valery didn’t feel a single thing.

Ryzhkov lifted his hand to fold the scientist’s pocket square that was hanging out like an unruly tongue, giving him a whiff of his scented hand cream.

“Tell him to take better care of you,” he urged Valery, his eyes focused on the now perfectly folded piece of cloth. “And tell him that a trip to Paris to get you better suits will do you good, or Vienna. Beautiful places, both of them.”

He stared into Valery’s eyes as if he was staring at his own reflection, at a better version of himself. “He’ll take you there if you ask him to, Valery Alexeyevich,” he muttered, his faint smile twitching with nostalgia and regret. “He’ll find a way. He always does.”

This time Valery didn’t flinch as the man gave his jaw a gentle tap with the tip of his finger. It finally dawned on him that there was more than territorial pissing in the Premier’s behaviour; Nikolai Ivanovich Ryzhkov desperately wanted to be friends with someone who hadn’t spent his entire life kissing the ground that powerful people walked on. For a man crowded by questionable allies, flatterers and enemies, maybe a friend was the one luxury the prime minister of the Soviet Union couldn’t buy. Valery realized he could have been his friend - but not in this life.

“What are you boys talking about?” Boris’ booming voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

With a blink, Ryzhkov was the confident statesman again. “I was just telling Valery that you need to get him a suit that matches the sparkling blue of his eyes,” came the quick answer.

“I did get you a blue suit when we were in Pripyat,” Boris reprimanded Valery as he sat beside him, “what did you do with it?”

“I – uh..”

“Local tailors?” Ryzhkov scoffed, “Borya, you should take him to Paris, the man deserves to be spoiled after all he’s been through. A little depravity never hurt anyone.”

The tip of Boris’ tongue flicked through his teeth, his voracious gaze caressing Valery’s curves down to his crotch. “It surely didn’t…”

Valery suddenly felt completely naked.

Boris spread his exceedingly long arm across the top of the bench, inches away from Valery’s back, the familiar warmth tickling the bespectacled man’s nape. Valery couldn’t follow the conversation anymore, he was craving to be touched even if he was certain the man next to him would never dare let his thick fingers wander off in front of the General Secretary and his Napoleon cake.

Boris leaned over him. “Are you all right?” his breath ghosted over Valery’s ear. “You don’t look too well.”

“I’m--” Valery let out a long sigh tilting his head back. “I cannot breathe,” he murmured, resigned.

Boris gave him an amused smile. “Too many kotletti?” he joked running a hand over his belly.

Valery stiffened at the inappropriate touch, shifting his eyes from Gorbachev to Ryzhkov then to Ligachev. They surely saw what happened, didn’t they? But those grey and formal faces didn’t blink, didn’t seem to notice his flushed expression or Boris’ intrusive hand under the tablecloth as they enjoyed their desserts. They were all blissfully oblivious.

He huffed out a breath nodding sleepily. “…Yes.”

“You might consider loosening that,” Boris advised him pushing a thumb between Valery’s buckle and his navel; he patted his back, urging him to sit closer to the table. “C’mon, nobody’s going to see you.”

Valery, throwing a nervous glance at the Politburo members who were now too engrossed in their discussion to notice his discomfort, scooted forward pulling the tablecloth over his lap and unbuckled his belt. A sigh of relief escaped his lips just as the stiff strip of leather let his stomach loose.

Before he could reach for his glass, Boris’ fingers were shamelessly cupping his sac, massaging into the scratchy fabric of his pants. Valery’s breath caught in his throat as blood rushed through the veins of his waking manhood, the tip already giving lazy jerks against his briefs.

He swallowed hard, his throat begging for any kind of liquid, anything at all. This was no time for intimacy no matter how easily, how effortlessly his traitorous body was responding to Boris’ little game.

“What are you doing?...”

“Exploring you,” Boris cooed as he gave Valery’s balls a gentle squeeze. “Working you. Owning you.”

“Here?!...” Valery hissed, his eyes widening in terror.

“Where else?” Boris said plainly. “They need to know you’re mine. Look at them.” He gestured at the men around the table. “You’re dessert to them and everyone wants to get a taste, especially Kolya. That’s what he was telling me when you were staring at us like an idiot back at the reception, that you’d be a delectable addition to their meetings.”

“Meetings, what meetings?” Valery almost shrieked.

Boris’ eyes twinkled with mischief.

Valery felt the urgent need to pee when he saw Gorbachev patting his lips with a napkin before rising to his feet. He buckled his belt swiftly, tucking the shirt in as if their booth was on fire.

“Misha,” Boris spread his arms, his voice calm as usual. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving, it’s too early.”

“Well,” the General Secretary gestured at his entourage to get up, “it’s getting late and Raisa won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“You should tell her you had a late-night Politburo meeting,” Ryzhkov suggested with a knowing smirk. “An urgent one...”

Gorbachev took a deep sigh. “I’m afraid this lie has gotten old,” he answered putting on his glasses.

Ligachev and Akhromeyev gave the three men a little nod and followed their leader out of the private booth.

Ryzhkov waved at the waiter. “Time to go.”

“You too, Kolya?” Boris protested, his fingers kneading into Valery’s knee and inner thigh. “You’re leaving us? Dessert simply doesn’t taste the same without you,” he added, his voice deeper than usual.

“Oh, I’m skipping dessert,” Ryzhkov replied as he put on his jacket, throwing a quick glance at both of them. “I think I’ve had way too many sweets in my life.”

He slid a one hundred ruble note into the waiter’s hand telling him to keep the change. The waiter thanked him with a little bow and went to serve another table.

“I’ll let you have mine,” the prime minister gestured towards his Medovik cake. “You boys have fun without me. Valery, can I hug you?”

Valery’s face went white as a sheet, the bulge between his thighs threatening to expose him if he got on his feet, but the Premier quickly bent down and wrapped his arms around him, kissing both cheeks. Before letting go, Ryzhkov whispered in his ear.

“I’d give you the fraternal kiss as well but Boris said he’d make a necklace of my privates if I dared do that.”

They both smothered a laugh. Valery was grateful that they could share this tiny moment, a glimpse of what it would be like to be friends with this man.

Ryzhkov tightened his grip around him, his lips almost touching his ear. “A little word of advice,” he murmured. “Our boy likes to bottom occasionally.”

Valery felt his jaw drop, all the blood in his body rising to his cheeks.

“He likes…” Ryzhkov continued, “well… losing control when the pressure is too much. So many responsibilities on his shoulders, you understand. He won’t admit it at first but trust me, he will be thanking you later - with tears of gratitude most probably.”

He gave Valery’s cheek one last kiss and before the scientist could utter a proper “goodbye”, he was gone.

Valery turned to Boris, his head still turning with embarrassment and the maddening desire to know how the barrel-chested deputy minister would sound like if he allowed someone to enter him, to fuck soft whimpers out of him. Boris’ long arms were sprawled out on both sides of the bench, his pelvis scooted forward, his knees spread and waiting.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Valery replied adjusting the foggy glasses on his nose.

“What did he tell you?”

“He… uh…”

Boris lifted a finger. “You’re blushing,” he laughed.

“No, I’m not!” Valery yelped.

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m…” Valery shook his head and looked away.

Boris placed a palm on his reddened cheek and turned his face until their eyes met.

“If it’s a secret between him and you, I don’t mind,” he said in a soft comforting voice. “I just thought I’d let you know that I’m jealous. And I hope you don’t mind either.”

“No,” Valery said firmly, his jaw stiffening with pride. “There is no secret between him and me. No more secrets, Boris.”

As the endless hours of tension between them began to melt away, Boris’ face finally relaxed into the brightest of smiles.

He nodded in agreement. “No more secrets.”

[stillpartofthisworld]

Juno Steel and the Deal with The Devil-NanoWrimo 11/02

Juno knows this is a bad idea.

He's standing in his kitchen, staring at the countertop. It's a nice countertop-a lovely granite that matches the cupboards. Shame that he got blood all over it.

The blood in question isn't his, for once. It's goat's blood, fresh out of the bag from a butcher across the street. He'd put it in a bowl, and then used one of Benten's old watercolor brushes to draw the appropriate sigils across the surface. The summoning circle he'd drawn looked perfect, mirroring the one he'd seen online.

Now he had to hope that the rest of the plan went as smoothly.

He lights the five candles at the edges and pulls out his phone. He's only a little buzzed tonight, so he can make out the words on his screen easily. They were in Latin, sure, but Sasha had taken Latin in highschool and had forced him and Mick to help her memorize verbs, so it can't be that different.

He sucks in a breath, and begins to chant.

20 minutes and 2 cans of beer later, and Juno feels like an idiot. Of course the stupid, stupid summoning circle didn't work. Why the hell should it? It's not like demons actually exist, and even if they did, why would the come at the beck and call of a Reddit post?

"Fuck," he mutters, and lurches out of the couch. He needs to clean the kitchen before Rita comes to see him tomorrow. Can't have her seeing his slow descent into madness, especially not after-

He hears a knock on the door.

Juno moves towards it. He thinks he might have ordered a pizza when he got home, but the amount of drinks between got home and now are enough to make him uncertain. He fumbles for the lock, and only remembers to check the peephole after the door is swinging open.

The man in front of Juno's door is tall, pale, and most importantly, handsome. He's dressed in a tailored suit, all black save for the blood red cufflinks on both wrists. His silver cross earrings sway in the breeze, glinting as they reflect the streetlights. His face is all angles; sharp cheekbones, slanted eyes and a cocked smile, his lips pulled back far enough to reveal wickedly pointed canines. It's enough to make Juno want to touch him and make sure he's real, that beauty like that could be tangible.

Instead he settles on clearing his throat. "Who are you?" He asks gruffly, and somehow the strangers' smile just gets wider. "I'm not sure what you mean, Juno," he says, and even his voice sounds beautiful, smooth and sauve like liquid mercury. "After all, you're the one who called me."

Juno freezes. Then:

"What."

The man points a long, manicured finger into Juno's apartment, where the kitchen is. Where the summoning circle.

Well, shit.

"What, you mean, you're...the...demon?"

The alleged demon chuckles at his incredulous tone. "What else would I be, dear? It's not everyday random men show up at your doorstep."

"You'd be surprised." the rebuttal comes automatically, and just serves to streach the man's grin even wider. "Aren't demons supposed to show up in the summoning circle? And be all fire and brimstone?"

"Is that what people are saying nowadays?" The stranger sighs, shaking his head. He leans on the door frame, using his height to let his gaze rove lazily across Juno's body. "The summoning circle isn't meant to trap us, dear. It's more of a...calling card. I show up how I like. And as for the 'fire and brimstone', well-" He snaps his fingers, and suddenly there is a small blue flame in between his thumb and index finger. "I could certainly show you," he continues smoothly, "But I assumed that your furniture might be flammable."

What had he gotten himself into?

"Oh, nothing that thousands of other humans haven't gotten themselves into before," the demon replies, and Juno realizes he's been talking out loud. "Might I come in?"

Still reellng, Juno moves out of the way to let the man in. He looks around the space curiously. It's a nice place; Rita was the one who'd shown him the listing, and Benten was the one who'd bought all the furniture. It still felt like it wasn't his apartment at times, like he was the one dirty thing in this clean, crisp home.

The demon, however, fit perfectly into the room. He sits down on the couch, crossing his legs and gingerly placing an empty beer can on the coffee table. "Can I get you something to drink?" Juno asks, and the demon waves him away. "I'm quite alright for now, thank you. Let's get down to business, shall we?" He spreads his hands in front of him dramatically. Sighing, Juno takes a seat opposite of the demon.

"I have to say, I am curious," The demon cups his chin with both his hands. "Why did you summon me, Juno Steel?"

"Well...you know, thinking back on it, it wasn't such good idea." Juno scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "I was sad, and drunk, and honestly I didn't even think it was going to work!"

"Most people don't-"

"And it's not like I have to show up with you tomorrow," He says, getting angry at himself. "I can go with Rita and Ben and just stick to the back of the reception. Drink all I want and get driven home. But it was just...the pictures and the updates and the register- God that fucking register-"

"I'm not sure I follow-"

"So I just had to pretend that I got over him! Putting down a plus one and writing "significant other" like a fucking dumbass. Stupid Juno, stupid-"

"Can you please explain-"

"I need a date for my ex's wedding."

The demon looks at him and blinks once, twice, before- "I beg your pardon?"

Juno pauses, unsure. "You...know what a wedding is, right?"

"Of course I know what a wedding is," the demon snaps, and Juno swears that for a second his dark eyes glow blue. "But is that the only reason you called a demon? To spite an old partner?"

"He was my ex-fiance, if that adds anything." His tone is flat and unbothered; he'd been practicing. "Found out he was cheating on me a week before the wedding, too, the bastard."

The demon looks at him in shock, then with something akin to sympathy. "That...makes a lot more sense."

"Yeah, yeah, so now he's marrying the same asshole who he left me for and had the nerve to invite me, so excuse me for not wanting to look like I'm still pining for him." Juno looks away from the demon in front of him. God, he needed a drink. Hell, he needed a liquor store.

"And...might I ask why you simply didn't...look for a human to go with?" The demon inquires softly, still staring at him. "Go on one of those those...blind dates?" Juno's head snaps back to look at him incredulously. "Have you seen this, buddy?" Juno gestures to his face; the scars around his eyepatch, and the very visibly sunken skin under it. "Ain't no one swiping right on this."

"I think you're quite handsome, actually. In a rugged way." The demon says quietly, and Juno has to laugh. "You're a natural at this boyfriend thing, bud. I almost believed you."

Before he can speak again, Juno cuts in. "Anyway, what's the payment for this again? You want my soul or something?"

"Oh, nothing so barbaric," the demon waves a hand. "We haven't asked for souls for a long time; they don't keep as well as they used to."

Juno decides not to ask about that.

"Rather, we trade in favours," his smile is back, his tone all milk and honey. "I do something for you, you do something for me, and everyone's happy."

"Uh-huh.” Like he was about to buy that. "What do you usually ask for?"

"Why ruin the surprise?" His canines peek out again, and Juno briefly wonders how the demon never manages to cut himself on his own smile. "I try not to ask for the same things twice; gets awfully boring when you do. It doesn't have to be right away, either; I could ask you years down the line instead."

Juno scowls at that. "I like my consequences to be punctual, actually."

"Good thing I'm the one planning the consequence then, hmm?" The man laughs lightly. "For now, dear, all I need is to officially seal our deal." He stands from the sofa, towering over Juno. "I am bound to your service for as long as you require me," he says, bowing slightly. "All I ask is that you give me a name."

"What do you need a name for?"

The demon shrugs. "It's a way of sealing the contract. The old way demanded that we spill the blood of a virgin, if you would prefer." He looks up from his bow, one eyebrow raised. "I'm sure you don't meet the criteria for that, but if you want we could-"

"Fine, fine!" Juno nearly shouts, willing his blood to not enter his cheeks. "You want a name that badly? Why don't you pick one?"

The demon straightens. "Well, I suppose I could think of a few names that might fit..." He taps a long finger to his chin thoughtfully. "How about...Rex Glass? That sounds exciting, doesn't it-"

"Nope. Too weird."

The demon looks at him, shocked. "Too weird?" He chokes out. "Well, I never-"

"Picked a good name before? Clearly. Try again."

The demon sighs. "Well, if you insist. How about... Perseus Shah?"

"Nope."

"Duke Rose?"

"Sounds like someone I'd want to shoot, next."

"How about a Monsieur Dauphin? A little mystery-"

"Is going to get both of us killed, try again."

"Christopher Morales?"

"Well now you just went too plain."

"You're impossible to please, did you know that?"

"So I've been told."

The demon huffs. "Well, then, how about..." His face goes thoughtful for a moment, then nostalgic, then something else altogether that Juno can't quite place. He stays like that for a moment, all softness and memory, before suddenly switching back to a rogueish grin. "I've got one. Peter... Nureyev."

He looks so pleased with himself, it takes all of Juno's willpower to not shoot it down. Because it's actually a good name. Peter Nureyev seems to fit this demon well.

"Nureyev it is, then."

And they shake on it.

[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 37

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Katie woke up to find herself standing on black marble covered in an inch of water that she was somehow on top of. A sky of black hung over her head. Not the beautiful kind speckled with bright stars, but a glossy, inky darkness that caused her chest to tighten.

As she stood up she saw that she was wearing a plain white long sleeved off the shoulder cotton dress that flowed down to her feet. A child’s laughter drew her eyes down into the water to see that a thousand shards of glass were scattered around her feet. The laughter came from one of the shards and she looked down to see within it a little boy around seven or eight with blond, bowl cut hair and innocent green eyes running through the woods.

As Katie reached down to pick up the shard, the little boy jumped, popping out of the glass as the vast darkness turned into a bright forest that smelled of pine needles and warm soil. She didn’t know why, but the scent made her feel at home. “Don’t be scared Momma, it’s just me.”

“And you are…?”Katie asked with a frown.

“Fun.” The little boy bounced on his feet, full of energy. “Wanna play hide and seek?” he asked, perking up with a smile.

“No. What I want is to know where the hell I am.” Kate told him then looked around them.

“Hey!” the boy picked up a pine cone and threw it at her chest. “No swearing.”

Katie leaned down to look the little boy in the eyes. “Look, you little brat, I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. I just want to get out of here.”

The boy glared at her. “Be nice!” he ran off making Katie run after him. “Nanna nanna boo boo. I can outrun you.” the boy sang as he ran. Something about the phrase made Katie start laughing as she caught up to the boy and scooped him up in her arms.

“I remember you now.” Katie told him as she made a claw motion with her hand and attacked his stomach, making him giggle from her tickling him. “Hello my sweet little Jonah.” She told him as she set him down then kneeled down in front of him.

“Hello momma.” He told her as he placed his little hand on her cheek with a smile. When she smiled back he evaporated into a mist that swirled around in the air forming a bright yellow ball. It sank into her chest causing a feeling or motherly love, caring and compassion overtake her.

With him gone the forest faded away and she was back in the dark place, standing in the center of the shattered glass again. “Phasmatos Tribum,” Katie heard someone say and looked down at a piece of glass to see a beautiful almond skinned woman standing at a table in the bedroom of an old Irish homestead, working a spell. This time as Katie reached down for the glass, she got sucked into it and she found herself sitting on a bed while another, slightly younger woman that looked a lot like the woman working the spell, pressed a cloth to Katie’s back making her hiss in pain.

“Sorry.” The young girl told her. “Someone needs to show that man how it feels.”

“Fiona.” The woman working the spell snapped at the young woman. “Mind your tongue. If someone should over hear you it will be you on the receiving end of that whip.”

“Yes mother.” Fiona told her quietly. Fiona finished cleaning the wounds then sat down on the bed in front of Katie. “Hannah, promise me when we get old enough we will leave this place, both of us. I know you do not want to live under your fathers thumb forever and I don’t either. Promise me that when you find a good man you will take me with you.”

Katie had been sitting quietly on the bed, trying to remember this and when she looked into Fiona’s dark brown eyes she did. She remembered that when she married Ronan she stole money from her father’s office and ran with Ronan. They used the money to start Fiona’s shop in the town they moved to. “I promise, Fiona. You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t dare leave this place without you.”

Fiona wrapped her arms around Katie who wrapped her arms around her first best friend’s shoulders feeling friendship and loyalty sink into her and when she opened her eyes she was back in the black place.

“Okay I see what’s going on here. These pieces are me, I’m a mother and a friend.” She said looking around at the shattered glass around her. “This is going to take a while.”

“Not as long as you might think, Doormat.” A voice came from one of the pieces and Katie looked over to see a woman pop up from the floor, joining her in the black place.

Katie looked at her, taking in her blond hair streaked with red, pulled back in a Vikings ponytail. A leather corset with buckles covered her torso while a leather Viking’s skirt wrapped around her hips. There was a fire in her eyes and a spear in her hand. “Why are we still here? Aren’t you supposed to take me to a memory or something?”

“I’m not a memory, I'm a feeling.” The warrior told her with a voice full of strength. “But if you insist on memories…here.” The woman walked across the water with an eye roll and plopped her hand down on top of Katie’s head. Katie telling Alaric about Mayor Lockwood abusing Tyler, telling her grandfather off and telling Elena off when Caroline made them all have a sit down flashed through her head. The last memory was Katie fighting the werewolves that were holding Caroline hostage in a camper.

“You’re my fight, my strength to keep going.” Katie said as she lifted her eyes. “My inner warrior.”

“You often forget I exist and quite frankly I’m tired of it. You need to learn to be a big girl and pull yourself up by your bootstraps if you have to. We’re stronger than you think we are.” She told her and Katie swallowed hard. “And if we’re going to survive in this hard world you need me.” she held her hand out to Katie who grabbed it and gave it a shake. The warrior pulled her into a hug and sank into her filling Katie with strength and power. Most of the other shards of glass floated up, turned into a big ball of mist that floated over her head then dropped, filling her with all the memories she had lost when she shattered.

After she absorbed it all she looked down at the last, large piece of glass and picked it up to see within it an auburn haired woman in a black, form fitting tank top, short black shorts and thigh high stiletto boots standing in the middle of a street as a man strolled past, the woman grabbed him around the neck and spun him around for Katie to see his face, he was an older man, too tan and too buff for his age. It was her grandfather. The woman’s eyes turned red and fangs appeared in her smile before she bit his neck, killing him before she tossed him to the side giving Katie an unforgiving smile.

Katie watched from an aerial view as people came to the woman as if drawn to her like flies to a honey. Each of them were either drained of blood or got their hearts ripped out. The last person to come to the woman was a little girl that looked no older than six and a man. Fear was clear in the girls little eyes as she watched the woman rip out the man’s heart. The dark ruthless girl placed it in the girls hands making the girl scream and run. The woman looked up at Katie and hissed, showing off the blood on her fanged mouth and the veins under her red eyes.

With a hard face and fight surging through her she threw the glass away from her like a throwing star. The glass stopped in mid air a few feet away from her and materialized into the haunting, monstrous version of herself. She reeked of anger, hatred, danger and most of all an overpowering thirst for human blood. “I won’t accept you.” Katie told her.

The dark, terrifying woman whooshed over to her grabbed her by her neck and body slammed her into the granite. “Then you…will die.” Her words came out as an angry growling hiss.

“No.” Katie brought her feet up and kicked her in the chest sending her flying through the darkness. Darkness landed in what Katie called the superhero landing and skid backward splashing water up around her. Katie flung herself up and held her fists in front of herself.

“You think you can survive without me?” Darkness asked as she whooshed back over and threw a punch that Katie dodged.

“I will be better off without you.” Katie told her, making her laugh.

“Look at yourself.” Katie looked down at herself to see she was now wearing a white ribbed racer back tank top, jeans shorts and black and white converse, but her arms were purple all the way up to her shoulders and spreading fast. While she was distracted Darkness threw a punch, catching Katie’s jaw and she stumbled back from the blow.

“It will stop when I get out of here.” Katie threw a punch that Darkness dodged.

“You get out of here without me and you will die within seconds.” Darkness threw a punch and Katie dodged it then threw one of her own catching Darkness in the jaw then kicked her in the chest knocking her to the granite.

She grabbed Darkness up by her black tank top and glared at her. “I said no.”

“And I said…” Darkness breathed hard from the blow to her chest, “You will die if you don’t. You may be stronger than me, you may be able to keep me at bay, but if you go back to your body without me…without a piece of who you are…you…will…die.” Darkness looked at her with a dead serious face. “No more Elijah. No more Klaus. You can kiss your friends goodbye too.” Katie’s eyes grew wide remembering everything everyone told her in the video Caroline made for her. “Accept me.”

She blinked, tears slipping from her eyes. “If I accept you…I accept that I am not a good person.”

“You’ve never been a good person.” Darkness told her as she jumped up. “When we were known as Hannah did we not think of a million different ways to turn that whip on Father, or to poison him? You even thought about running away in the night and abandoning your poor little sister. Then as Katie…you contemplated killing your grandfather in his sleep. You thought about tying him to a chair and breaking every bone in his body then slitting his throat for ever letting Mayor Lockwood touch you. You cheated on Tyler with Damon and yeah you knew it was wrong, you felt a little bad about it, but you weren’t sorry. You slept with Klaus knowing that Elijah still loves you. Then of course there are all those people you killed after you flipped your switch. You don’t feel sorry about that. You don’t care that they had family and kids. Their blood tasted better than any blood bag ever did. You have power over humans and you revel in it. There has, and always will be, a darkness in you whether you want it or not. The only thing you regret is what you did to that poor little girl.”

“I don’t want you. Suppressing you is tiring. I managed to hold it back as a human, but now…every day is torture.” Katie said with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Then maybe it is time you accept me…accept the darkness in you…and find a way to embrace me instead of suppress me.” She told Katie with a glare. “You have to accept me or need I remind you. You’ll. Die.”

As much as Katie hated the darkness in her, she loved her friends. And she loved Elijah and Klaus. She still wanted all the things she always did out of life…she wanted to live. “I accept you…”

As soon as the words left her mouth the woman threw herself into Katie, not sinking into her gently like the others had, but invasively inserting herself into her. Like the splitting of cells, but reversed. Katie threw her head back and screamed out in pain as the darkness seeped into her, fangs formed in her mouth and veins popped under her eyes, pumping the whites of them full of blood. She squeezed her eyes shut and fell to her knees. After a while the pain subsided and she fell back in relief.

She expected to hit granite; instead she started falling down a black tunnel. She felt like she had been falling for forever when out of nowhere she stopped mid air and a woman appeared in front of her holding her hand out as if she was keeping Katie from falling further even though she was floating too. “Who are you?” Katie asked, taking in the woman’s long brown hair and blue eyes. She looked to be in her late forties.

“Dahlia.” She answered. “It seems fated that you should end up here in the place of my slumber.” Katie gave the woman a confused shake of her head. “Your soul shattered, landing you neither on earth, passed on or on the other side. That’s not something that happens often.” Katie just glared at the woman. “When you shattered, your memories scattered throughout this place. While you were putting yourself back together I was looking at them and I’ve seen enough to know you’ve been intimate with my nephew.”

“Look I don’t know who you are, but I’m pretty sure my memories and who I’m intimate with are none of your business and I’d like nothing more to continue my journey back to my body.” She told her with an attitude induced sway of her head. “So if you could kindly put me down it would be highly appreciated.”

“Before I put you down I’m going to give you a gift.” She told her still holding her hand out in front of her.

“What?” Katie asked.

Dahlia flicked her wrist causing an odd tingling feeling to spread over and sink into Katie’s lower abdomen. “You’re welcome.” Dahlia dropped Katie and as she fell she looked up to see Dahlia disappear.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie shot straight up in bed taking in a deep breath. She looked around to see her friends in the doorway of her bedroom at Klaus’s house, “What the hell happened?” she asked then looked up at the blood bag hanging on an iv that was stuck in her arm. “I’m starving.”

As her friends came back into the room Elijah took the blood bag off the pole while she pulled the needle out of her arm. He disconnected the tube then handed her the bag. She grabbed it and sucked it down, the color returning to her skin as she did. “What is the last thing that you remember?” Elijah asked as he took the empty bag from her.

“You…making me feel with our link.” Katie answered, then realized that she didn’t feel the pull in her stomach that she usually did when he was near. “Our link…” she sighed, looking Elijah in his brown eyes. “It’s gone.”

“I assume you are relieved.” He told her bluntly as he looked down at the tube in his hand.

She frowned remembering she had told him that she’d hoped it would break when she turned off her humanity. “I-” she was cut off when something started burning her chest and she grabbed it and pulled it off to see the necklace Damon had given her hanging from the chain in her hand. “Ouch.” She sighed and put it down on the bed beside her seeing the picture Stefan had framed for her and the drawing of her in her ball gown that Klaus had made. “Seriously someone tell me what the hell’s going on.” She said as she took the necklace Elijah had given her off her wrist and set it on the bed next to Damon’s. She noticed the bracelet her friends had given her and decided to leave it on.

“We thought you were dead, Katie Cat.” Damon told her from where he leaned against the white post of her footboard.

“Huh?” Katie asked.

“When Elijah reached out to you with your link he overpowered your soul and shattered it.” Bonnie answered. “Without a soul, your body started dying.”

Katie looked over at Elijah. “Did you know that would happen?”

“No.” he answered simply. “If I did I never would have reached out to you like that.”

“Okay, I’m out of here.” Elena said and left the room.

“Good to see you up, Katie Cat.” Damon said as he walked over to her and kissed the top of her head. “Try not to die again, okay?” he told her then rushed after Elena.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go.” Stefan spoke up feeling awkward since he and Katie hadn’t been on good terms for some time now.

He started to leave ,but Katie spoke up. “Hey Stefan?” he turned and looked back at her. “I don’t hate you, just do you know. You weren’t really yourself and you rightfully wanted revenge. I just happened to be on the bad side of that.” Stefan just looked at her. “Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” He told her with a closed lipped smile and a nod then left the room.

Katie looked at Bonnie and Caroline, “Is a fresh start too much to ask for?”

“No, we’re good too.” Bonnie told her with a teary eyed smile.

“So we’re all friends again?” Caroline asked with a bright smile that made Katie smile.

“Yes.” Katie answered. “Well, the three of us are. I’m not sure what was up with Elena.”

“She flipped her switch, but that’s a long story for another time.” Bonnie told her looking sad all of a sudden.

Caroline looked at Katie, sitting on the bed with both Elijah and Klaus at her side. “We’ll give you three some space.” She hit Bonnie’s shoulder with the back of her hand to get her attention then jerked her head to the door. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” Caroline asked Katie who nodded.

With them gone Katie looked back and forth between Klaus and Elijah. “I need a drink.” She slid off the bed and headed downstairs. She grabbed a bottle of bourbon out of the liquor cabinet and a glass. When she turned from the fridge from putting ice in the glass she found Klaus and Elijah sitting at the bar behind her. “I have no idea what to say to either of you. Somehow I’m sorry just doesn’t seem to cut it.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Elijah told her and she sighed.

“Yes, I do. I shouldn’t have told you about me and Klaus.” Klaus blinked at her and tilted his head to the side. “Not like that anyway.” She poured some bourbon over the ice and capped the bottle. “But you know what?” she picked up the glass and pointed her finger at Elijah. “My love life stopped being your business when you…what did you call it again?” she asked looking around in thought even though she remembered exactly what he’d said. “Right, you let me go. Like a bird that wasn’t perfectly fine with the cage she was in.”

“Niklaus, will you give us a minute?” Elijah asked with a look at Klaus. Klaus looked at Katie and she gave him a nod. So he walked away. “I left because I thought it was what was best for you.” he told her and she opened her mouth to say something, but he held up his hand and she closed her mouth. “But as you pointed out before we passed out, you’ve had enough people telling you what to do. I will forever regret becoming one of them. All I can do is hope that you will one day forgive me both for leaving you and shattering your soul.”

Katie took a drink then set the glass down. “You hurt me, Elijah. You broke me, my trust and my belief in love.” She took a drink as she watched him straighten the place mat in front of him. “And yes, I’m relieved that our link is broken.” he stopped and looked up at her with a frown. “But it’s not because I hate you for leaving me or any other malicious untrue reason. It’s because the whole time I was with you I didn’t know if what I felt for you was real or if it was the link pushing me to feel something for you. I blindly trusted it and jumped in feet first because I wanted so badly to feel loved and wanted.” She paused to take a breath and another drink.

“I will admit it was unfair of me to expect us to simply pick up where we left off. I just missed you so much and waited so long to find you again that I overlooked that while you are exceptionally similar to the woman I fell in love with you are also vastly different.” He told her, not looking her in the eyes.

Katie threw back what was left of her drink and poured another. “I told you that I would always love you, link or no link and I meant it.” she walked around the bar to stand in front of him.

“As did I.” he told her and she smiled a little then let it fall.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I was hoping when that link broke that I wouldn’t feel anything for you. That I could have an easy out of the pain that loving someone inevitably brings. But I look into your eyes and I feel that pain and heartbreak. So I know it was real.”

“So what does that mean for us?” he asked as he propped his elbow up on the bar.

“It means that while I still love you and I always will, I can’t overlook that you chose to leave me. It means I can’t just…jump back into it with you. However what I can do is forgive you for leaving me and shattering my soul. We both need to let go of the past and move on.” She told him.

He looked back down at the place matt, tapping it with his fingertips. “And do you intend to move on with Klaus?” he asked quietly.

She sighed and leaned her hip on the bar. “If he will still have me, yes.” She saw a pained look flash across his face. “I hope you know it wasn’t my intention to hurt you by sleeping with him. I never intended on having feelings for him at all, it just kind of happened.”

“You do not have to explain yourself to me.” He told her as he took his hand off the bar and stood up. He looked around with squinted eyes and pursed lips before he sighed and placed his hand on Katie’s cheek, touching her for the first time since she woke up. Her eyes slipped closed from the comforting, familiar touch before she opened them and looked at him. “Does he make you happy?”

She picked up her foot and started tapping the toe of it into the hardwood floor. “Yes.”

“Then you have nothing to feel bad about.” He told her then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead as her eyes slipped shut. “Goodbye, Katie.” By the time she opened her eyes he was gone.

She was getting a blood bag out of the icebox when Klaus found her. “I see Elijah is gone.”

“Yep.” She said as she ripped the corner of the bag off with her teeth and spit it onto the bar then poured the blood into a clear glass.

“And you’re still here.” He observed.

“Is that okay with you?” she asked as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a drink.

“You are kidding right?” he asked as he walked around the bar and picked her up by her hips making her yelp and attempt to not spill her drink as he set her on the counter. She set the glass to the side and wrapped her legs around him as she rested her hands on his broad and toned yet kind of skinny shoulders. These actions told him all he needed to know before he pressed his lips to hers in a slow passionate kiss. After a few seconds it broke and he pressed his forehead to hers. “Do you know how hard it was to not kiss you the second you opened your eyes?”

“Not a clue. I’ve never wanted to kiss myself.” She popped off and he pulled back to give her a get-serious look that made her smile a cheeky smile at him. “How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks.” He answered.

“And how long since I flipped my switch?” she asked. “I kind of lost track of time in that horrible windowless room you and Elijah locked me in.”

“Around three months.” He answered and she slipped her hands down his chest.

“A lot can change in three months,” She pointed out looking him in the eyes.

“A lot has changed.” he told her as he looked into her eyes and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, “I’m hoping we haven’t?”

She smiled and bit her lip. “We haven’t.” As soon as the words left her lips he kissed her hungrily and slipped his hands under her white tank top. She pulled away. “Whoa, hey, what about Rebekah?” Katie asked.

“She has her own house now.” he told her then started kissing her neck. “We had a bit of a falling out.”

“Something tells me a dagger was involved.” He rolled his eyes at her then started kissing her neck. “Slow your roll there Big Bad Wolf.” she told him as she pulled back and smiled at the aggravated sigh that left his lips. “Before I get too lost in you can I have a few minutes to myself to shower and just…take a beat?”

“Of course.” He told her then back up.

She hopped down, grabbed her glass of blood and down it. “I’ll find you when I’m done.” She told him with a flirty look as she headed upstairs.

Since they had the house to themselves she didn’t bother grabbing clean clothes before she went to the bathroom, turned on the shower, waited for the water to warm up then stepped inside. As the warm water cascaded down her shoulders and back she thought about everything that she’d done since she flipped the switch, every kill, every person she compelled to do her bidding...none of it bothered her. She knew she should be weeping at the thought of taking someone’s family away from them, of how many grieving people there were in the world thanks to her and her blood lust, but she didn’t feel the need to. Yes she shouldn’t have killed them, but she couldn’t beat herself up about it.

Then she remembered the horrified look on the little girl's face as she placed her dead father’s still warm heart in her little hands. The thought of her face being the stuff of that little girl’s nightmares, how much therapy that little girl was going to need just to function as a human. The realization that she single handedly crushed that little girl’s innocence broke her. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she pressed her back against the shower wall and slid down wrapping her arms around her wet knees as she let it all out.

Eventually though she realized crying wouldn’t make it any better. So she stood up, finished showering then wrapped her towel around herself and went to her room. After throwing on her usual lounging around outfit of a tank top and shorts she found Klaus in his room, lying shirtless in bed, reading a green faux leather book. “So this is your room huh?” she asked from the doorway as she looked around. Brown and cream sheer curtains hung over the windows, a brown and cream bedspread covered Klaus’s lower half and a round dining table sat under a crystal chandelier that matched one of the chandeliers that had been in her holding room. Several framed handwritten letters hung on the wall over the head of the bed. A lamp that sat on the bedside table dimly lit the room.

“How was your shower?” he asked, having heard her crying. She walked over to his side of the bed and hopped up on it then straddled him. Instead of answering him she pressed her face into his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist. The hug surprised him. Yes, they were close, they spoke intimately and had sex, and he’d hugged her when she cried about Elijah leaving her, but this hug was something more. This hug showed a certain amount of neediness and that wasn’t something he’d felt from her before. She cared about him, she wanted him, but he never thought she needed him. The fact that she did shook him to his core as he wrapped an arm around her waist and held the back of her neck with the other hand. The words I love you almost slipped over his lips, but he kept it to himself. Her soul had just shattered and in doing so flipped her switch back on, she was dealing with enough emotionally without him adding to it.

So instead of saying it, he slid down in the bed, keeping her on top of him as he grabbed a pillow and put it under his head. In an attempt to further comfort her he started playing with her damp hair. She hummed, closed her eyes and started lazily sliding her fingertips up and down his side. “That feels good.” Her words made him smile. “Klaus?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” he asked, still playing with her hair.

She found herself wanting to say those three little words, but she couldn’t let herself. If she said it out loud she’d be letting him in. If she let him in, he could hurt her and if he said it back…she could hurt him. He was the last person she’d ever want to hurt. So instead of I love you she simply said, “Thank you.”

“Any time.” He told her, making her smile. Then she opened her eyes and saw the green book on the bedside table.

“Is that my journal?” she asked, putting her hand on his chest as she pushed herself up.

“Yes.” He answered and she sat up to straddle him.

“Why were you reading it?” she drawled with suspicious eyes.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” He answered and she glared at him. “I’m the reason you abandoned your humanity, I wanted to be the one to help you find your way back.”

“So what did you find out from reading the melodramatic bull crap that is my journal?” she asked as she started drawing nonsensical shapes on his chest.

“I know you like Italian food, hate chocolate and love cheesecake and strawberry ice cream. I found out that you lost your virginity to Damon, poor choice if you ask me, as well as a plethora of other things, but what caught my attention most was the poetry.”

“Ugh.” She made a disgusted noise and wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“Because it’s good.” He told her, giving her thigh a light squeeze. “And I like poetry.”

“So…” she sighed, deciding to change the subject before he decided to start filling her head with compliments. “Fill me in on what I’ve missed, please.”

He pushed himself up to lean against the headboard then moved her around to sit between his legs leaning back on him with his arms wrapped around her.

From there he told her everything that happened since she flipped her switch. How, when he found out about Katie flipping her switch, he made Bonnie put him back into his body that hadn’t been completely burned because the casket he was in when he was stabbed got closed and extinguished the flame.

How the hunter named Connor showed up in town. He was part of a group of five supernaturally gifted vampire hunters whose mission was to find the original immortal, Silas, and the cure to immortality, cure Silas then kill him. Klaus had to leave Katie with Elijah to help control the hunter. The freshly turned Elena killed the hunter and therefore became haunted by the hunter's curse. When Elena killed the hunter, the tattoo that only hunters and potential hunters could see, showed up on Jeremy and the only way for Elena’s hallucinations to stop was for Jeremy to kill a vampire. Caroline talked Klaus into letting Jeremy kill one of his hybrids.

Some guy named Shane who was a professor that took over the college class that Grams used to teach, started teaching Bonnie a type of magic called expression not telling her that it was dark magic. Stefan and Elena broke up. Klaus and Stefan started working together to grow Jeremy’s tattoo that would lead to the location of the cure to immortality. They both want it for Elena.

They found out that Elena was sire bound to Damon. Meaning she was in love with him before she turned. Klaus found out when they all tried to neutralize him that his hybrids had broken their sire bonds to him and Tyler had led the rebellion. Klaus killed all of his hybrids and Tyler’s mom. Kol found out about them trying to find the cure and knew that if they did Silas would unleash hell on earth so he tried to thwart any attempt to find Silas. Klaus turned a bar full of people for Jeremy to kill and complete his mark, but Kol killed them before Jeremy could. Elena asked Klaus to help keep Jeremy safe from Kol who was trying to kill him to keep them from following the hunters mark. Kol also compelled Damon to kill Jeremy so he got locked up in the basement for a little while.

Kol tried to cut Jeremy’s arms off to keep the tattoo from spreading, so Elena killed him. Klaus was going to burn them both in the house, but Bonnie managed to trap him in Elena’s living room with a spell. Because Kol’s whole sire line died, it completed Jeremy’s mark. Klaus was stuck there while the others, besides Caroline and Tyler, went to Nova Scotia to find Silas and the cure. Tyler told Klaus that his plan was to cure Klaus and kill him. Caroline cleaned up Kol’s body while Tyler taunted Klaus on exactly how he was going to kill him. Klaus took his anger at Tyler out on Caroline by biting her. Tyler left Caroline there to make Klaus watch her die. Klaus couldn’t let her die and cured her. The next day Klaus, Caroline and Tyler used a hunter’s sword to decode Jeremy's tattoo, revealing that there is only one dose of the cure. Because Tyler tried to kill him, Klaus ran him out of town. Katherine killed Jeremy by feeding Silas his blood in order to get the cure out of his mummified hands.

Jeremy’s death put Elena in unbearable pain and Damon told her to turn her humanity off not knowing it would break the sire bond. She burned her house down with Jeremy in it.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about burning my house down.” She commented.

“After everything I just told you that’s what you comment on?” he asked, putting his chin on her shoulder as he looked at her face. She just shrugged. “No comments on the fact that I slaughtered my hybrids and killed your ex-boyfriends mother?”

“I get why you killed your hybrids, but on the flip side I get why they tried to kill you.” he poked her in the side. “What? For someone who wanted them for a back up family you kind of treated them like slaves.” She told him bluntly. “As for Tyler’s mom…she had her nice moments like trying to help me win Miss Mystic, and she loved her son, but mostly she was just a bitch. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard her call me trash. Pretty sure if you didn’t kill her I would have eventually.” She told him then turned around and straddled his lap.

Things were comfortably quiet for a little while as they both just enjoyed being with each other. “Happy birthday, by the way, I’m sorry I did not get you anything.”

“You’re the only birthday present I need.” She told him then wrinkled her nose. “That sounded far less cheesy in my head.”

He smiled. “I do not mind cheesy.”

She glared at him playfully. “You secretly love romantic chick flicks don’t you?”

He laughed looking a little embarrassed. “Maybe.” Katie smiled and looked at her hands exploring his torso. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Nope. I like it.” she told him then leaned down and kissed his neck.

“So what do you want for your birthday?” he asked as she kept placing random kisses over his neck and chest.

“An art lesson.” She answered, surprising him.

“The woman that colored in a coloring book to pass art class wants a lesson?” he asked and she stopped showering him with kisses to look at his face.

“I would have liked to learn, but the teacher sucked and it was kind of nice to have a break from my other, harder, classes.” She told him as her hands slid over his shoulders and down his arms to his hands that rested on her thighs and grabbed them in hers. “I want to know more about the things you’re passionate about.” She admitted as she pressed her palms to his.

He threaded his fingers through hers and pulled her into him catching her lips with his in a kiss that slowly deepened. After a few minutes of making out he let go of her hands, grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. He looked into her eyes as his hands found her breasts and kneaded them as he kissed her neck, his actions pulling a sigh from her as he slid down to lay on his back. She grabbed his chin and kissed his lips then kissed down his jaw line to his neck, pulling a sigh out of him with her touch. Her hands explored his torso as she kissed his collarbone, the hollow of his neck, the center of his chest then surprised him as she kept kissing lower, making his breath quicken when she threw the covers over her head and took him into her mouth. The grunt her action pulled out of him made her laugh only giving him that much more pleasure.

She was just starting to have fun when he threw the covers off of her, grabbed her chin and pulled her up for a heated kiss. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” he asked between peppering kisses over her neck and shoulders and his hand caressed her back.

“Show me?” she asked and he pulled away from kissing her to look her in the eyes as he rolled them over. She wrapped one arm around his torso while her other hand held the back of his neck. As he hovered over her, braced on his hand on the bed next to her head, he slipped his hand down her chest. He didn’t break eye contact as he moved his hand to her breast, kneading it before he pinched her nipple making her moan and dig her fingertips into his back. Desperate to have his lips back on her she pulled him to her for a needy passionate kiss. As they kissed his hand moved down her stomach then slipped into her shorts and panties. His talented fingers pulled a whimper from her that made him pull back and look her in the eyes as he pleasured her.

After a minute she pushed off the rest of her clothes, grabbed his wrist, pulled his hand away, rolled them over then sat up. When she slipped his slick fingers into her mouth he thought he was going to lose it, but he managed to hold back as he slipped them out and sat up. He grabbed her beast in his hand as she slid her hands over his toned arms. A growl left his lips as he attacked neck with kisses and nibbles making her laugh then sigh before he whooshed them around and sank into her.

A sigh left her lips as she squeezed her eyes closed and wrapped her legs around him. His sighs and groans only fueled her fire just as her whimpers and moans fueled his. He could tell she was getting close and as if on cue she sighed, “God, Klaus.”

“Come for me, sweetheart.” His words tipped her over the edge making her dig her fingernails into his back and tighten her legs around him. The slight pain of her nails in his back and intense pleasure of her orgasm sent him tumbling after her and pulled a loud grunt from him, making her smile as he let his head fall to her chest.

After they had both come down from the high he picked up his head and looked her in the eyes. As she moved her hands from his back to his chest she saw the blood on her fingernails and her smile faded. “Did I scratch you?” she asked, taking her hand off of him a little shocked at what she had done.

“Mmhmm.” he hummed and started kissing her chest absentmindedly.

“Did it hurt?” she asked, still looking at the blood on her fingertips.

“Only a little.” He answered.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before.” She told him.

He stopped kissing her to look her in the eyes. “Pain and pleasure sometimes go hand in hand.” She just looked at him with a frown. “It’s fine. I liked it.” he assured her.

“If you say so.” She told him deciding not to harp on it. He rolled off of her to lie on his side, turned off the lamp then pulled the covers over them. He smiled to himself when she tucked herself into his chest, intertwined her legs with his and wrapped an arm around his waist. She was being clingier than usual and he couldn’t help but love it.

He thought she was just reveling in the calm after the storm like she used to, but after a few minutes her breathing changed and he looked down to see that she had fallen asleep. So he kissed the top of her head and let sleep overcome him, happy that she was back in his arms.

[chanoyu-to-wa]

Nampō Roku, Book 6 (46):  the Six Meibutsu Trays from the Higashiyama Collection:  the Naka-maru-bon [中丸盆].

46) The middle[-sized] tray is round¹.  [It was painted with] black lacquer, to [the face of] which a round metallic plate in the shape of a dragon was [affixed by] sinking it [part way into the lacquer]².  It also sported a metallic fukurin [フクリン]³.

    The sides of the tray were perpendicular [to its face]⁴.

    It is said that the diameter of the tray was 1-shaku 2[-sun] 3-bu⁵.

    This tray was also used when only incense utensils were [displayed]⁶.

    And also, in place of this naka-bon, there was also a 1-shaku-square naka-bon⁷.  Be that as it may, while the round naka-bon was one of the six [meibutsu trays from Yoshimasa’s collection], the square naka-bon was not part of [that set]⁸.

_________________________

◎ The exact distribution of the material contained in the previous post, in this post, and in the next post, is differs from manuscript to manuscript.  In some they are all lumped together into a single entry, while in others the description of the dai maru-bon [大丸盆] (see the previous post) is separated from that of the naka maru-bon [中丸盆], and the summary of the six trays that follows.

    Since separating the descriptions of the trays into separate entries follows the pattern that has already been set down through the previous entries, I see no reason to deviate from that format here (and, indeed, it seems that the only reason that others have done so is on account of the brevity of these three entries, and the fact that they have nothing interesting to say about them -- which is no real reason at all, since the material is not directly related).

¹Naka o-bon ha marui nari [中御盆ハ丸キ也].

    Naka o-bon [中御盆] means naka-bon [中盆] (middle-sized tray).

    The original naka-bon was the naka maru-bon [中丸盆], which is the round version of the naka-bon that is described here first.

²Koku-shitsu chin-kin maru-ryū ari [黒漆チン金丸龍アリ].

    Koku-shitsu [黒漆] means (it was painted with) black lacquer.

    Chin-kin [沈金] literally means “sinking gold.”  This is a classical lacquer technique wherein a thin metal plate (in this case, most likely made of brass) is carefully placed on top of a coat of wet lacquer.  The metal plate then sinks part way into the lacquer, and the tray dries like that.  The result is that the surface of the plate is only slightly higher than the surrounding lacquer.

    Maru-ryū [丸龍] means a dragon (ryū [龍]), usually highly stylized, and rendered in a circular cartouche (such as shown above).

    The metal plate, which would have been similar to that shown above, would have covered almost the entire face of the tray.

    It seems that this tray was originally made for conveying hot bowls of food* from the kitchens to the residential apartments:  the metal plate affixed to the face, and the metal band that encircled the side (see the next footnote) would have made carrying easier, while preventing the hot container from damaging the face of the tray†.

    In Japan, in addition to Yoshimasa’s incense utensils, this tray was also used to display bon-san [盆山]‡ in a tray of granite sand.  The metal plate would have protected the tray from visible abrasion damage from the sand (that would have been obvious on other trays). __________ *Perhaps iron or high-fired earthenware that could be placed over the flames until the contents were boiling.  This kind of food service is seen not only in China, but also in Korea, even today.

†This is why gold (as the plate is usually understood to be) would have been unlikely.  Brass is a rather good insulator (this is why Rikyū preferred for the tsuru [弦] and kan [鐶] to be made of that metal -- rather than iron, as is most commonly seen today), and is much harder than gold (and so less likely to be damaged by placing very hot vessels on top of it, perhaps less than gently).

‡Also known as bon-seki [盆石].  Both terms are usually translated “viewing stones.”

    Arranging the sand (according to the precepts that Yoshimasa set down in a poem -- quoted below) was an exercise in motion meditation; and meditating on the result was an exercise in seated meditation.  While frowned upon by the Zen school, these were valid practices in the Amidist school from which chanoyu itself derived.

    Yoshimasa’s naka maru-bon (the reproduction made for him by Haneda Gorō, after the original had been destroyed along with the other five meibutsu trays) still exists.  It is kept by the Nishi Hongan-ji [西本願寺] (one of the lineages that trace their roots back to the Ishiyama Hongan-ji [石山本願寺], the great temple of the Amidist sect referred to as the Ikkō-shū [一向宗], and now the site of Hideyoshi’s Ōsaka castle), and used when displaying one of Yoshimasa’s treasured bon-san known as Sue-no-matsuyama [末ノ松山] (shown in the photo, above -- though, rather than sand, the stone is shown resting on a sheet of sand-colored paper that was inserted to protect the face of the tray when it was last put on public display in the early 20th century).

³Kane no fukurin ari [金ノフクリンアリ].

    Kane no fukurin [金の覆輪] means a gold (or metallic*) edging.  A fukurin (in the context of chanoyu, gold, silver, and bronze are the most common) is a flat piece of silver affixed around the rim (of something like a chawan), to provide protection (from chipping), or conceal defects†.

    Most scholars seem to interpret this line to mean that the rim of the tray was covered with a gold strip (such as is seen on some chawan).  However, it actually seems that the brass fukurin was applied to the raised band that encircles the side of the tray about a third of the way below the rim.  The purpose of this band was to provide the servant a surer grip, so that the tray (bearing a boiling hot bowl of food) could be carried safely. __________

*While kin [金] literally means gold, this kanji has been used since ancient times as a generic word for metal.  Since the plate and fukurin were most likely brass (rather than gold -- which would have been useless for the intended purpose), “metal” seems the translation least likely to give the reader a false impression.

†Many of the famous temmoku chawan that made their way to Japan were actually over-fired, so that the glaze ran away from the mouth, leaving the rim unglazed (and so rough).  The bowl was made usable by covering the rim with a thin metal strip that was much more comfortable to the lips.

⁴Segai kiri-tate [セガイ切立].

    Kiri-tate [切立] means something like “cut off perpendicularly.”  This means that the rim rose perpendicularly to the face, as is shown below.

    Oddly, the raised band is not mentioned in this description (though it is elsewhere) -- perhaps it was edited out, because a purely verbal description might have sounded garbled (it seems that Tachibana Jitsuzan did not have access to any of the actual trays, so he may have been confused regarding the less obvious points -- such as this).

⁵Sashi-watashi isshaku ni・san-bu ari to iu-iu [サシワタシ一尺二・三步アリト云〻].

    This statement is corrupt.  It should read sashi-watashi isshaku ni-sun san-bu ari to iu-iu [サシワタシ一尺二寸三步アリト云〻].  Perhaps deterioration of the paper on which this entry was written was responsible for turning the kanji sun [寸] into a naka-ten [中点]*.

    In other words, the tray measured 1-shaku 2-sun 3-bu in diameter.  Of this, the actual diameter at the rim is 1-shaku 2-sun.  The additional 3-bu comes from the raised band (the elevation of which is 1-bu 5-rin [一分五厘] from the side) where the fukurin was applied.

    This is one point that has confounded many erudite scholars. __________ *A naka-ten [中点] is a dot “・” used to separate terms in a sequence.  Its inclusion here would make sashi-watashi isshaku ni・san-bu [サシワタシ一尺二・三步] mean “the diameter is 1-shaku 2- or 3-bu.”  Which is completely wrong.

⁶Kore ha o-kōgu bakari no toki mo mochiiraruru to nari [コレハ御香具ハカリノ時モ用ラルヽト也].

    O-kōgu [御香具] means the set of incense utensils.  Yoshimasa used this tray to display his incense utensils (on the daisu as well as on the chigai-dana).  In other words, it was his kō-bon [香盆].

    The metal plate (which would resist not only the heat of the kōro, but also potential scratching from its legs*) made this tray especially useful for this purpose. __________ *That said, Yoshimasa’s kiki-kōro [聞き香爐] (the hand-held censer, used when sniffing incense) was the famous Chidori-kōro [千鳥香爐] (shown below).

    It will be noticed that, like many of the Chinese kōro made for this purpose, the censer actually rests on a round foot that extends downward from the body (the thick circle of clay serving to limit the amount of heat that is conveyed downward, just like the foot of a chawan), rather than on the feet (which are somewhat pointed, and so would be uncomfortable on the hand).

    In fact, when held in the hand, the palm and fingers are oriented so that they extend between the legs (as will be described later in Book Six of the Nampō Roku).

⁷Mata kono naka-bon no kae ni, shi-hō no isshaku-bon mo ari [又コノ中盆ノカヘニ、四方ノ一尺盆モアリ].

    Mata kono naka-bon no kae ni [又この中盆の替えに] means, “and also, in place of this naka-bon....”

    Shi-hō no isshaku-bon mo ari [四方の一尺盆もあり] means “...there is also a 1-shaku-square tray.”  This tray is shown (to the same scale as the naka maru-bon) above.

    The naka hō-bon was a creation of the machi-shū (perhaps as early as the last decades of the fifteenth century, when this community of chajin were all expatriate Koreans), who seem to have used it as a wabi substitute for the Gassan-nagabon.  Thus, while this tray was not one of the six meibutsu trays from the Higashiyama collection, its use was almost as venerable.

⁸Sare-domo maru naka-bon ha roku-mai no kazu ni te, shi-hō naka-bon ha roku-mai no soto nari [サレトモ丸中盆ハ六枚ノ數ニテ、四方中盆ハ六枚ノ外也].

    Sare-domo [然れども] means something like “be that as it may....”

    Roku-mai no kazu [六枚の數] means “among the six (trays).”  Mai [枚], meaning sheet or ply, is used as a counting word for flat things (such as sheets of paper -- or, in this case, trays).

    Roku-mai no kazu refers to the six meibutsu trays that belonged to Ashikaga Yoshimasa.

    Shi-hō naka-bon ha roku-mai no soto nari [四方中盆は六枚の外なり]:  shi-hō naka-bon [四方中盆] means the square naka-bon; roku-mai no soto [六枚の外] means outside of the (set of) the six trays (from the Higashiyama collection).

——————————————–———-—————————————————

    As a sort of “bonus appendix” to this entry, I decided to include Yoshimasa’s instruction on the correct arrangement of the bon-san [盆山], according to Rikyū’s Nambō-ate no densho [南坊宛の傳書].

〽 Concerning the Display of a Bon-seki [ 盆石 ]¹.

(1) There are very few people who understand how to do this correctly.

    Now, there is this poem by the Higashiyama-dono²:

    bon-seki no mae ni ha futatsu hama-bisashi          ushiro ni tōki umi so[w]e naran

    [盆石ノマエニハ弐ツ浜ヒサシ          ウシロニ遠キ海ソヱナラン]³

    This poem reveals the secret tradition⁴ concerning the display of a bon-seki, so you should pay careful attention to every detail that it recounts.

(2) A rough sketch will help [you] remember [the matter]:

(3) Depending on the season of the year, the waves⁵ [behind the stone] should be handled differently.

    And of course the manner of arranging the sand should be appropriate to the scene suggested by the bon-seki’s appearance⁶.

_________________________

¹Bon-seki [盆石]:  the word is usually translated “viewing stones” in English.  These are natural stones whose shape suggests a natural scene – a distant mountain, an island, a cliff-face, and so forth.  The stone is arranged on a shallow tray*.  This kind of thing is more appropriate for display in the shoin, rather than in the sukiya [數奇屋]. __________ *The practice of displaying a bon-seki seems to have begun in the Muromachi period:  bon-seki are included in some of the arrangements suggested by Nōami (or possibly his grandson, the dōbō Sōami [相阿弥; ? ~ 1525] – the authorship of this treatise has not been resolved with certainty) in his work Kun-dai Kan Sa-u Chō-ki [君台観左右帳記].  Originally the stones were arranged in the naka maru-bon [中丸盆] (as shown in Rikyū’s sketch).

    Another of Yoshimasa’s treasured bon-seki, this one known as Zan-setsu [殘雪] (above), which came from Korea accompanied by a shallow sawari [四分一] (a kind of bronze containing roughly 25% silver) tray on which the viewing stone had been displayed on the continent.  (Once again, in this photo, the bon-seki has been arranged on an empty tray, apparently out of fear that sand might damage it.)

    Since the granitic sand is abrasive to both bronze and lacquered trays, ceramic trays also came into use in the Edo period.  And while the early containers were circular (and around 1-shaku 2-sun in diameter), oval and rectangular trays came to be favored during the Edo period, and these (usually referred to as suiban [水盤], because filling the tray with water helps to make the sand less likely to abrade the tray) are the kind most frequently seen today.

²The poem is technically by Jisshō-in-dono [慈照院殿], the name which the Higashiyama-dono [東山殿] Ashikaga Yoshimasa [足利義政, 1436 ~ 1490] assumed in his retirement (the poem dates from that period in his life).  As Rikyū indicates, it describes the way in which a bon-seki should be arranged in a round tray of sand, for display in the shoin.

³“In front of the bon-seki, two sand dunes; and behind it, the far-distant ocean should be suggested.”

⁴Hiden [秘傳]:  a guarded (i.e., “secret”) tradition passed on confidentially from generation to generation.

⁵The sand in the tray is “raked” or brushed into the shape of waves like the sand in a kare san-sui [枯山水]* garden arrangement, using a feather or some other implement (such as a kuma-te [熊手], “bear claw,” a sort of miniature rake).  The waves behind the stone should correspond to what is actually encountered in that season†. __________ *Kare san-sui [枯山水]:  a type of landscape garden, where raked sand is used to represent flowing water.  The word is sometimes translated “dry landscape” garden in English.

†Just as the flowers used for chabana must be strictly seasonal.

⁶As mentioned above, a round tray was preferred in the early period (to give an appropriate sense of depth)*, and the treatment of the sand in front of, and behind, the stone was not necessarily handled in the same manner.

    If, for example, the stone looks like an island (as per the image in the shōgun’s poem), the foreground should be manicured to resemble a beach with sand-dunes, and the background raked in lines that suggest the rolling waves of the far ocean out to the offing.  If it resembles a mountain, then it might be fronted by a more hill-like arrangement of the sand, while a cliff that seems to be rising up from the sea would demand waves raked in the foreground†, and so on.  These details were not fixed (other than as indicated in the Yoshimasa’s poem), and the host displayed his skill by evoking a scene using nothing but the rock and some raked or smoothed sand.

    The sand may be dry or (if it will be raked) slightly damp; but pooled water (or moss, or other plants) should never be present in the tray‡.

    Likewise, the host should consider the texture of the sand, since its coarseness (or fineness) will enhance (or detract from) the image he is hoping to create**. __________ *In the modern day oval or rectangular trays are generally used.  These shorten the foreground and background to the point of non-existence.

    The teachings expressed in this poem had been lost by the Edo period (as was the case with much else contained in these densho), and viewing stones were either appreciated only for themselves (with the creation of a scene left entirely to the mind of the beholder), or overstated by the inclusion of plants, moss, and even miniature props (models of houses, boats, even people – even plastic dancing pandas, if a quick review of the images available on the internet gives a representative sample of what people are up to nowadays).

†There appear to have been two different ways to do this.  Some of the ancient drawings (in works like the Kun-dai Kan Sa-u Chō-ki) clearly show the bon-seki in much deeper sand-filled containers (probably because these stones did not have a flat bottom – it was not allowed to cut or otherwise modify the natural stone in any way – and the depth was necessary so the host could present them at the proper angle).  In this case, the sand (which seems to have been fairly coarse) would have been “raked” much as in a kare san-sui garden.

    Shallow trays seem to have been used differently, with just a light sprinkling of sand (shaped with feathers and other tools that would not risk damage to the lacquer) behind the stone (using the contrasting color of the lacquer to help define the shapes), becoming thinnest near the far edge (to produce a sense of falling away).  However, Yoshimasa’s poem clearly implies that the two sand-dunes should be three-dimensional mounds of sand that obscure the left and right ends of the stone (thus making it seem as if it actually extends much farther in both directions, and we are able to see only a small part of it), and not just a pattern of shaped sand flat on the face of the tray (as seen in many contemporary bon-seki displays).  The sand in front of the stone was therefore probably much deeper, while that behind was thin and perhaps only partly obscured the surface of the tray.

‡This often differs from what many people do today, where the suiban is often nearly full of water, with or without a sprinkling of sand on the bottom.

**The sand was usually sifted into different sizes, which were used to give different parts of the arrangement a suitable texture.

[writemarvelousthings]

Goodbye For Us

PAIRING- Steve Rogers x Reader (slight implied Bucky Barnes x Reader at the end)

WORD COUNT- 3.7K

WARNINGS- Angst!! Separation, being deserted. Swearing, mentions of self-destructive behaviour. Grief and rejection. 

Summary: Steve decides to return to Peggy, leaving you broken and unsure how to live without the man you have loved with all of your soul. But will his decision be the making of you? 

A/N: Ya girls is back with some music inspiration, this is inspired by Selena Gomez’s new Song Lose you to Love me. As soon as I heard it this plot came barreling into my head and I had to write it! Thank you to @abovethesmokestacks​ for being me Beta on this one! I’m sorry for what you’re about to read, it hurt me too. 

Gif not mine

Your world was burning, crumbling into molten ash scattering through the wind turning into smoke as the tips of your fingers grasped to keep it slipping away from you.

“Please don’t do this.” your voice was trembling, sore and unused as the man sat before you physically winced.

“I... I have too.”

You spat his words back at him, with all the venom you could muster. Another set of blue eyes shifted to look at you, concern flashing across them before settling on his long-time friend making the hardest decision.

“You don’t know what it was like to not have… to try and live after the snap.” Steve’s shoulders sagged, you noticed for the first time how his skin wrinkled around his eyes. The lighter shade of blonde scattered against his golden tresses, sparkling silver in the light. He looks tired.

“You promised me.” you sounded desperate now and you were, a little girl chasing smoke on the wind travelling further and further away from you.

                                                            ~~~

The sun was setting low in the sky, soft cool sheets caressed your body as the warmth from Steve encompassed you. Steeping into the pores of your skin, moulding against your bones. Everything in your body screamed for him, burned for him. Your heart thumped in a steady rhythm tattooing his name against your sternum

Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve

“Will you make me a promise?” you mused, your voice carrying across the soft crooning of your Spotify playlist you personally made for Steve. A large hand roamed against your hip bone, a deep hum answered you. Rolling to face him, your golden lover bathed in the afternoon glow.

“Never leave me.” A small crooked smile spread as slow as molasses, that warmth inside you spread deeper inside you. Attaching itself to your very attoms, curling around the nucleus itself and settling there. Steve’s large hand found yours, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips. Pressing them against the smooth velvet, against the place that worshipped every inch of you they whispered the words against your skin. Branding you anew.

“Never.”

In that moment, you’d never loved anyone the way you love Steve Rogers

                                                        ~~~

“Sweetheart..” Steve has the decency to look pained at least.

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore.” You shake your head, finally seeing what you had been too blind to see all these years. What you had looked through rose-tinted lenses at. Natasha had warned you, Natasha. Your heart lurched at the thought of her, how you pushed aside her concern for you. Her sisterly love for you. It all made sense.

“Natasha knew, she knew all these years that you didn’t let go of her... Not really. Not ever.” You bitterly wiped the tears from your eyes, the biting sting only adding to your anguish.

“She always warned me... Not to play with fire.” Steve whispered, his admission carving a piece of your soul from you.

“But... Peggy. She’s dead Steve.” Bucky’s voice cut through the icy tension mounting, cracking the room with sudden electricity as Steve surged to his feet.

“But she’s NOT! I can go back, I can be with her and finally have the life I’ve always..” the words caught in his throat, blue eyes widening. Even Bucky whipped his head up metal arm whirring. You caught the sob in your throat before you swallowed it down.

“The life you’ve always wanted, right Steve? A home, someone to love you. Kids? You have that Steve, you have a family that loves you.. A home, why can’t I be the person to give you all that?” You look up at him, hands flat palms up on your knees. Begging to the man who you had loved for the better part of seven years completely looked down on you, the look in his eyes scaring you. Pity, he felt your pain but you knew, in those atoms that had been encompassed by him. His mind was made up.

“I’ve got a chance with Peggy, my Peggy. I have to take it.” You remained silent, his words lancing your heart with each syllable. You’re not sure how you managed to stand, much less find your way to the door looking back towards Steve. Unshed tears brimming in his eyes before one blink and they were gone.  

“I hope it’s everything you want Captain.”

Your name falls flat from his lips, but like five years ago. You find yourself carried on the wind and away from Steve Rogers for the last time.

                                                        ~~~

You don’t go with him to the mini transmat platform, no matter how much Sam begs you. Bucky tries to convince you. Bruce even threatens to tear your door down. But he doesn’t come to you, doesn’t try to patch up any resemblance of what you once had, what you once shared. Bucky comes back to your room when he’s gone, sits with his back against the door as you slide down the other side listening silently.

“He did what he said he’d do, put the stones back… didn’t... Well, you know.” Bucky clears his throat, you press the heels of your palms into your eyes. Your body is shaking with grief that he’s gone, back into the arms of the ghost in Steve’s eyes when he looked at you.

“Then I turned around and he was there.” your head flew up, inches from cracking the back of your skull against the door. He came back? A flash of hot white hope burns through you.

“The punk remembered when he left and came back.. he’s.. he’s lived his life. Seemed happy with his decision... I’m sorry.” you don’t remember when Bucky leaves your door, you don’t remember the day turning to night then back to day again. You don’t remember Wanda quietly leaving you a tray of breakfast, placing a hand against your door signing softly. All you remember is the void of emotions, except one. Because in that moment.

You’ve never hated anyone more than you hate Steve Rogers.

                                                        ~~~

You throw yourself into missions, taking the ones that send you to the far reaches of the world. To the cold frigid landscape of Siberia, the humid thick air of Bangkok. Smog filled China and crystal blue waters of Malta, you kill. You drink, you fuck. Pretty brown eyed girls that taste like strawberries and cream, green-eyed boys with eager hands that fall into your trap. None of them blonde, never with blue eyes. Sam is concerned, Wanda is worried but Bucky looks at you with a sympathetic knowledge that makes your stomach lurch. Your hands itch to take the next solo mission, but Sam puts his foot down.

“You have to go with a partner.”

“Oh fuck off, Wilson, I work better alone!” you scoff, hands raking through your cropped hair. Half of it shaved to the skin. Sam’s deep eyes scan you, analysing your appearance. You had just come off seventy-two hours holed up in Vancouver. The mission took you twelve, it took the next sixty to lose yourself in bars that specialised in sweet overpriced cocktails with a menagerie of students stumbling through its doors and eventually into your bed.

“When was the last time you ate a decent meal? Slept for more than four hours, took a god damn bath?”

“Don’t…” you fisted your hand, anger and pain rolling off you in waves it make Wanda turn, arms wrapped around her middle physically recoiling from you.

“You used to love baths, you were always using all that soap and bubble shit with..”

“Don’t you fucking say his name Sam... Don’t, please.” your voice was hard with bite and venom which washed away with the alarming wave of tears brimming in your eyes.

“He was the one who loved them.” Wanda’s voice rang through the room throwing you into a memory you’d rather forget.

                                                        ~~~

“God can we just stay here forever?” Steve groaned, head resting against the curve of the bath. You giggle, chin resting on his sternum as you gaze up at him.

“We’d get all wrinkly.” you titter, pressing your lips to his golden skin. The lavender bath salts soaked into his skin, your cheek vibrated from the deep chuckle in the bowls of his chest.

“But I’m so relaxed sweetheart.” Steve groaned scooting lower into the water, pulling at your hips bringing you closer to him.

“And what if the world needs us?” your nose nudges against his for a moment, you’re so close your not sure where Steve starts and you end.

“Well, then at least we can take another bath to celebrate saving the world again.”

“That sounds like a good plan Captain.”

“Mmm, doesn’t it just.” and his lips slipped over yours, one hand cradling the back of your head as you bleed into him.

                                                        ~~~

Sam looks between you and Wanda, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m taking you off the roster.”

You balk at Sam, scrambling to plead your case. You needed those missions.

“No, you need time. This person in front of me. I don’t know who the hell she is. She’s certainly not who Tony and Natasha fought to save and bring back.” at the mention of your mentors you flinch, recoil to a dark part of yourself that resents the person you have become.

“Listen” Sam walks towards you, his voice softer. “I know things have been tough, but you’ve gotta shake him off. You’ve gotta find yourself, the real you. The person we all know is in there somewhere desperate to get out but you won’t let her and I think you know what you have to do to let her free.”

                                                        ~~~

Your hands shake, swallowing thickly around your tongue as the gravel crunches under your boots. The autumn chill had fully set in as it whips the leaves off the trees, the bright vibrant red causing your heart to ache for a different reason. You watch as one leaf flitters along with the wind, flipping and floating to land on the black granite stone before you.

“Hi, Tasha.” you huff at how weak your voice sounds, how lost you feel not having the one person you could turn too.

“Bet you’re looking down right now wanting to kick my ass.” your hold on the sunflowers tightens as if grasping on the stems gives you something to anchor yourself on as to not fall apart completely.

“And maybe Steve’s, but he’s an old man now and that’s frowned upon.. Not that you’d care.” you let out a hollow chuckle that contorts your face. And then you’re heaving, body shattering with sobs that dig your knees into the ground in front of the empty grave. A reminder that not everyone made it back home.

“I’m lost Nat, I’m so lost without him. I don’t know what to do, or who to trust again.. I’m nothing without him.” You crawl closer to the gravestone, the white block letters mocking you.

Gone, but always with us.

“But that’s not true is it, you’re gone. Tony’s gone. Stev...He..He left.” your lip wobbled dangerously as hot tear’s burned your eyes, even uttering his name felt heavy on your tongue. It stabs at what is left at your soul.

“You always said to be careful but I was so blinded by my own stupidity and love that I.. I..” your chest burned, the lack of air entering your lungs make your body ache. Muscles pulled tight and tense around your bones causing your skin to prickle harshly. Then you felt a weight on your back that was unyielding and firm as your ears rang it was then you realised the weight was the result of smooth black and gold vibranium rubbing against your spin.

“Breathe (Y/N), c’mon breath for me darlin. It’s okay.. It’s gonna be okay.” you’re not sure if it was the soothing words or the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand touching you with such a firm yet gentle pressure that makes you fall back into him.

You had been held before, by your mother when you fell off your bike for the first time. By Tony when he found you half-buried in rubble after a rather dicey mission. By Natasha on a rather drunken girls night as you stumbled home shoes in hand giggling into her red locks. By Steve, oh were you held by Steve. But this, this was different. Never had you felt so protected, so safe. When Steve held you, your whole body was set ablaze. But with Bucky, your whole body became butter soft. Sliding up against him as he mumbled into the crown of your head.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you darlin. It’s all going to be okay. I’m here now.” clinging to the soft grey of his jumper you cried and cried. Until the leaves stopped falling around you.

                                                        ~~~

You sure you want to do this?” Sam looked over your head at Bucky, he had been asking you that question since the moment you entered the kitchen. And then in the elevator to the car park, then in the car driving into the little suburban row of houses. And again when you parked in front of the little yellow house.

“Jesus Sam, can you give it a rest? Your starting to annoy me!”  

“I’m just making sure!”

“She said she’s sure, it’s her decision, not yours.”

“Is that why you brought that knife in your shoe Barnes, what you gonna jump a retired old man that’s real..”

“Oh bite me Wil..”

“Will you two just…”

“It’s nice to see not everything has changed” the three of you freeze, the third voice makes you turn to the now open door. The familiar cerulean eyes you had stared into countless times flashed at you. It makes the back of your neck crawl under his gaze, assessing the changes in you since that day he decided to tear apart your world.

“Would you like to come inside?” The question was broadly asked but you all knew who it was really for.

“Nah, me and Buck are gonna take a walk around the neighbourhood. Gotta make sure his old legs are fighting fit” You smirk as Bucky grumbles under his breath, shoving his hands further into his coat pockets. The tip of his nose turning red as the winter air stings at your cheeks, you watch slightly helplessly. Your eyes follow the two figures down the street before turning to meet Steve’s.

                                                        ~~~

I hope you don’t mind I made us some tea.” You sit perched on the couch, like a bird ready to take flight at the slightest disturbance. That’s what you were now, a flightless bird still clinging onto the last branch as the tree continued to burn around you.

“Tea is fine.” your voice is monotone, eyes scanning around the room. Knickknacks of a life lived stung, not as much as you thought they would. But stung nevertheless, you watch as Steve shakily pours the tea into the cup. The brown liquid splashes dangerously for a moment and out of instinct you reach out to steady his hand. It’s frail and cold, skin pulled tight over bones, nothing like the strong hands that held you all those years ago. Once your cup was filled you cleared your throat.

“Do you have any..” But Steve was already pushing an open jar of honey towards you.

“You remembered?” you swallowed thickly, gently taking the slightly sticky mason jar from him.

“I never forgot, you always liked things a little sweet.” you couldn’t help the slight tug of your mouth.

“You cut your hair.” he muses, you sip your tea trying to compose yourself.

“Needed a change after what happened” a noise escapes Steve making you look up. Guilt, piles of it. Mountains buried for years as you break the last memory he has of you.

“I’m so sorr..”

“I hated you, you know.” Steve settles back into the armchair, head bowed with his hands clasped before him. Gone was your golden lover, now there was a man who had lived the life he had yearned for but broke yours into a thousand pieces in the process. Some of them still floating like ash around you.

“I hated you for so long, since the moment Bucky told me you were there that day you went back. I hated every day for the past two years.”

“Not as much as I hated myself.” a flare goes off within you.

“You made a decision Steve, you could have left her alone. But you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t” you stare into Steve’s eyes, you search his face. Trying to find the man you loved, the man you bled for. The man who you defined yourself for.

“It looks good, the hair. You look... different.”

“I feel different” you take another sip of tea, it was lukewarm and sat heavy in your stomach. “Did you get the life you wanted? Love? Family? Stability?”

“I did.”

“Was it worth it?” Steve looks at you for a long time, a slow smile spread across his mouth. You knew he was thinking back, reminiscing.

“It was, but,” he reaches across to you, taking both of your hands in his. Bringing them to his lips kissing your knuckles gently.

“I am so sorry for the pain I caused you, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but... Peggy, she was,”

“The love of your life, I know Steve.” you give him a small sad smile that really hits the final nail on the head.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever truly forgive you for what you did to me, you broke me, Steve. In every way, a person can be. I don’t even know if I’ll be the same person when all the pieces get put back together. But I know a small part of me, and over time it will grow, is happy you got what you deserved. You fought for so long, I assumed with me by your side it would make the fighting easier.” You squeeze his hands gently.

“But you were always going to be the man out of time, you were meant to take that chance. As much as it kills me inside because I burned for you, Steve. So brightly it consumed me I didn’t realise what was truly going on right in front of me.” your feel your chest clench as Steve’s eyes gloss over.

“I really did love you, for those first few years, I really did think I could live in the modern world with you... Then finding Bucky and the snap. And you were gone for so long. I didn’t know how to live... Then I saw Peggy again and part of me thought I could have a life with her again, we weren’t even sure the stones were going to bring everyone back.”

“But they did… and here we are Steve.” Your tea was stone cold as you held Steve’s hands, both of you mentally drained at the reality of what you both endured.

“We named our daughter after you.” his voice is so quiet you almost miss it, you let out a watery chuckle.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you and Natasha, she’s named after two of the most important women in my life. The women who saved me in those first few years out of the ice, who helped save the world.”

“I’m sure Margaret loved that,” the bitterness is laced thick in your words, instantly you regret saying them. “I’m sorry that wasn’t fair.”

“She understood what I sacrificed to be back with her. She was the one who suggested your name.” You feel your legs shake slightly, the room suddenly becoming too hot to bear.

“She knew about me?”

“I told her everything, she wasn’t best pleased with the way I handled our last conversation” Steve gives a wry chuckle before continuing. “She said she owed a lot to you, for putting me back together. She also knew I left you in the best hands I could trust, we owed our lives to you. Now you have to go and live the one you deserve, not for anyone else but you” There was that flash of determination in Steve’s eyes you were so familiar with, the one that was always present before charging into battle, into the unknown. That it made you surge forward wrapping your arms around his bone shoulders tears blinding your vision.

“What if I don’t know how to do that” Steve chuckles, wrapping his arms around you rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it. You can”

                                                        ~~~

Sweet and thick, the air flowed around you like nectar. Offset slightly by the cool sharp contrast of the lake lapping at your toes. The Yellow summer dress rucked up to your thighs trying to get as much of the breeze on your skin as possible, sweat trickled down your neck as you turned your face up to the sky humming. The only thing cutting thought the sweet peaceful summer afternoon was the soft footfalls walking towards you and the soft grunt of a body dropping to your left.

“It’s hot as hell out here” Bucky grunted, you cracked an eye open glancing at him before closing it again.

“Well, you are wearing jeans and combat boots in August” you bluntly pointed out.

“Yeah but then how else am I gonna convey I’m mean and scary as hell” you didn’t need to open your eyes to know he was grinning like the Cheshire cat, just as he didn’t need you to open your eyes too see them rolling under your lids.

“You’re as mean and scary as Winnie the Pooh”

“Are you calling me fat?” you scoff finally opening your eyes to look at the blue eyes glittering before you.

“You are a lot thicker than you used to be Barnes”

“That’s because Wanda makes such good food” he groans falling back to lean on his elbows “It would be rude to refuse her”

“I’m sure she’d get over it” you grin nudging his calf with your foot, he grumbles for a moment before you laps into a peaceful silence.

“You doing okay?” the gravelly and sincere tone makes you tear your eyes away from a young starling taking flight off a low branch. The blue eyes you are met with are filled with nothing but affection, concern but also respect, the cool breeze whips around you again and you smile, as brilliant as the sun that shines down on you bathing you in the hopeful promise of tomorrow.  

                                                         ~~~

[rrameyguerrero]

Worldbuilding: Races

There are several things I consider when building a world. When I created the world that The Age of Fire takes place in, I began with races. I knew that I wanted my main characters to be non-human. I envisioned an immortal race of Lowasii, who were stewards to the elements. They are magical beings who derive their abilities from the elements that they care for. I decided I wanted Lowasii to be divided into tribes. Each tribe resembles the element their ancestors cared for. They are vegetarian due to their closeness to the earth, and they have ears the shape of willow leaves, and their neighbors call them the “Deer People”.

I further defined the Lowasii tribes. I thought about the area that I wanted my people to live. A northern island, nestled in a forested cliffside that rolls into the ocean. From there, I decided that the most prominent elements are Water, Stone, Fire, Wood, Salt, Soil, and Clay.

For Water, I imagined a people that had birch-white skin, silver hair, and blue eyes. I called them Awat for their word for water. For Fire, they had dark skin, hair, and eyes. I called them Imbyr for their word for ember. For Stone, I had to decide what I wanted to be most prevalent in this area. I chose slate and granite. The Onryx people had skin that looked like brown slate or granite. They had dark hair and eyes. For Wood, I decided I wanted there to be dryad-creatures, not related to the Lowasii. For Salt, I chose to give them golden skin and hair for the color of the salt flats, green eyes for the sea. I called them Tassi, which means salt. For Soil, I decided they would have skin the color of dust or delta soil from the river. I called them Yerikuu. Lastly, I wanted there to be a clay element. Their skin is red-brown like clay, with dark eyes and hair. I called them Atkla, which means clay.

I wanted the element Wood to be represented on the island where the Lowasii live. I used dryads as inspiration for my Saplings. They are spirits that emerge from tree bodies. Their appearance depends largely upon the appearance of their tree. But a Birch tree might be thin with paperwhite flaking skin and long white hair and vivid green eyes.

I needed other races for my world. I thought about my favorite stories growing up. I always had a fascination with Goblins and Trolls and Giants. So I made my own versions up. Goblins are the main characters’ closest neighbors. I wanted them to be stewards of Ash. They have grey skin and eyes. Most are bald, but they choose to decorate their heads with local gems like onyx, opals, raw emeralds, ect. They have leaf-shaped ears due to their immortality.

When I thought of Trolls, I imagined great hunched beings with large bulbous noses. They carry great clubs that they use as walking sticks. Moss and grass cling to their backs, and that’s how they hunt. They stay real still like stones, until a deer or other animal grows accustomed to their presence. Then wham! They strike with their clubs and stone knives.

Giants, who I call Boulders, are relatives of the Trolls. They are nine feet tall. I wanted them to have a simpler approach. Like the Narnian Giants, I wanted the Boulders to be less intelligent. They use boulders to kill their prey, and they will eat anything that moves.

I wanted one more race that lives on the island with these people groups. A hyper-intelligent race that was poisoned and turned cannibals. They once looked like Goblins with yellow skin, but now they have bowl-shaped eyes, skin pulled over their bones, and sharp noses. I called them Sharpnosed Riverfolk.

I wanted humans to appear in my world. I looked at worldwide cultures. I decided that I would name several human settlements. I wanted some humans to become antagonists, and I wanted some to be protagonists’ friends.

I wanted an Underground race, that has taken over the entire Underground and wants to create an empire on the surface. Because they live underground, I wanted them to lack melanin like most cave dwelling creatures do. The Underlings have white hair and violet or pink eyes. They are very sensitive to the sun.

Lastly, I wanted a race of people from the Sky realm. The Painted Realm. The Lunae have skin like the night sky. They have hair and clothing like clouds, and they have wide all-black eyes that sometimes glow amethyst.

What do you do? Share in the comments.

[winchester-fantasies]

Bewildered Heart - Chapter Eight: Off the Grid

Series Summary: What happens when Sam and Dean Winchester love the same woman?

Word Count: 2385

Warnings: angst, pregnant reader, mentions of angry Sam and Dean, swearing

Pairing: Dean x Remi Leverett (OC), Sam x Remi Leverett (OC)

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

     “You want some wine?” Lauren questioned, holding up a bottle of red moscato.

      Remi shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

      “Okay,” Lauren said in surprise before filling a wine glass with the red liquid. “You sure this is the same Remington Leverett I grew up with?” she teased making her way back to the kitchen where Remi was busy chopping herbs. Lauren stirred the boiling pot of spaghetti before turning toward her friend and leaning against the counter. “I’ve never known you to turn down a glass of wine,” Lauren said, taking a sip from her glass.

      “Yeah, well, that was before I was pregnant,” Remi stated matter-of-factly, dropping the knife on the cutting board and scooping the herbs into a bowl.

      Lauren nearly spewed her wine at Remi’s confession. She swallowed quickly before going into a coughing fit. She finally composed herself before setting down her glass and turning to Remi with a shocked expression. “Pregnant?” Lauren asked.

      Remi shrugged. “Yeah, I’m pregnant. Thought I’d just lay it out on the table since every time I try to find a nice way to tell people, it all goes to shit,” she said, slamming the bowl on the counter, causing some of the leafy greens to fall onto the granite countertop.

      “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lauren said, coming to stand beside her friend. “Where is all this anger coming from? And what the hell is going on?”

      Remi sighed. “Ren, like I said, it’s a long story. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

      Lauren huffed. “Well, tough luck! You can’t just tell me you’re pregnant and then expect me to just go on like everything’s normal.”

      Remi stared at the black granite beneath the bowl, silver flecks sparkling under the bright light of the kitchen. She wished more than anything that she could meld into the emptiness of it, escaping the reality of everything and just float into nothingness.

      She felt Lauren’s hand come to her shoulder. “Remi, please,” Lauren gently prodded. “I just want to understand.”

      Remi took a shaky breath before turning and leaning back against the counter, her arms crossing over her chest. “My life is such a shitshow right now,” she chuckled harshly. She proceeded to recount everything that had happened, from Sam getting left behind in the alternate universe, to her and Dean bonding over the last year and a half when they realized Sam wasn’t coming back, and finally finishing at Sam’s reappearance, her unexpected pregnancy, and Sam and Dean’s quickly deteriorating affection and support.

      The kitchen faded into silence as Remi finished her tale. She glanced at her friend. Lauren stood gaping at the story, seemingly unable to find words. “Wow,” she finally breathed. “Remi, I had no idea. Why didn’t you call me?”

      Remi shook her head and shrugged. “I didn’t know what to do. I was so confused and upset. It just seemed like one thing after another kept happening – building on top of one another until it came crashing down. I just…I couldn’t stay there.”

      Lauren wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulders and pulled her close. Remi laid her head on Lauren’s shoulder as tears began falling. “I’m so sorry, Remi, that all this is happening. I can’t say that I understand one hundred percent because I’ve never been in your position before. But what I can say, is that both Sam and Dean are assholes for treating you like that.”

      Remi sniffled and swiped at her nose as she leaned away from her friend with red-rimmed eyes. “Yeah, but I was the one that fucked everything up.”

      Lauren shrugged. “So maybe you made a couple of mistakes. You’re fucking human, Remi. You’ve been through a ton of shit the last couple of years and no one can blame you for being confused and uncertain. I can’t believe how you’ve managed to remain so strong throughout all this. I don’t know that I could’ve held up as well as you,” Lauren said. “Their reactions were way out of line and that’s on them.”

      “Yeah, I guess so,” Remi mumbled, sniffing and wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks.

      Lauren smiled. “Like I said before, you stay here as long as you need. Take your time and figure everything out.” Lauren leaned her shoulder against her friend’s, jostling Remi lightly. “Plus, it’s nice to have my best friend around again. It’ll be just like old times,” she added, smirking playfully.

      Remi couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her throat just as the front door opened. “Hey, Remi!” Zach greeted, slipping off his mud covered boots and setting them by the door. He enveloped her into one of his famous bear hugs before placing a chaste kiss on her head. “Lauren told me you were here. It’s good to see you again.” Both women had known Zach since they were children. They were school friends as well as playmates and Remi had been thrilled when the high school sweethearts had tied the knot.

      “It’s great to see you, too, Zach,” Remi grinned.

      “How long are you planning on staying?” Zach asked, going to the sink and washing the dirt off his large, calloused hands.

      Remi shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

      Zach nodded, taking the towel from its rack and wiping the water from his skin. “I’m surprised Sam isn’t with you,” he remarked.

      Remi laughed sharply as she looked toward the ground. Zach glanced to Lauren, his expression filled with confusion. “What? What did I say?”

      “We’ll talk about it later, babe,” Lauren said, sending him a pointed look. Zach nodded vaguely before he made his way down the hall to their bedroom.

      Remi helped set the table before they all sat down to eat. They caught up on their lives and discussed the happenings of the town. Zach said he still worked with his father on their chicken farm and Lauren volunteered part-time at the local library. Their conversation soon turned toward old times and memories that all three had shared, as well as laughter.

      Later that night, Remi lay in bed, listening to the pine trees rub together. She heard an owl hoot in the distance and a dog bark down the road. She smiled into the darkness as she watched the shadows dance on the walls from the moonlight. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed as hard as she had tonight. It was a nice reprieve to not have to worry about hunting or the problems back at the bunker. She was safe and happy and for once in a long time she felt she could let go and breathe.

**********

     A light buzzing by Remi’s ear woke her up the next morning. She groaned as she opened her eyes, surprised to see the sun already bright and shining through the curtains. She fumbled for her phone, finding it tucked under her pillow. She sighed when Dean’s name popped up, indicating a new text message.

      “Where are you?”

      Remi gritted her teeth before turning off her phone. How dare he ask her that! What right did he have to question where she was when he had been the one to storm off without so much as a goodbye or indication of where he was going and when he would be back? For all she knew he had made the decision to never come back.

      She tossed her phone to the mattress before she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Remi made her way to the sliding glass door, pulling back the flowered curtains and stepping out onto the balcony. She went to stand at the edge, taking in the view around her. The pines sat to her right, already swaying in the morning breeze, while a large oak tree stood tall on her left, its branches reaching towards the sky. Forest surrounded the property, the ground sloping downhill, before finally plateauing off into a cliff. A valley sat below the cliff, a tiny trail of water flowing from deep underground before meeting a large creek a mile down the road.

      After changing into jeans and a hoodie she made her way downstairs. Lauren was seated on the couch facing the large windows that looked out into the backyard, a book nestled in her hand. A fire crackled in the wood burning stove that sat in the corner of the dining room, adding warmth and a sense of hominess that Remi desperately missed.

      Lauren looked up from her book as Remi’s bare feet padded across the hardwood floor. “Good morning,” Lauren greeted, a bright grin on her face. “Sleep well?”

      Remi settled down on the opposite side of the couch, drawing her legs to her chest. She returned her friend’s smile and nodded. “Yeah, better than I have in a long time, actually.”

      “Great! I made breakfast earlier this morning before Zach left for work. There’s still some in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” Lauren offered.

      “Yeah, sounds great,” Remi said, getting up from the couch and making her way into the kitchen. Biscuits sat on the stove while sausage gravy filled a large saucepan. After making herself a plate, she microwaved the food and poured herself a large mug of coffee.

      She rejoined Lauren before digging into the food. She hummed in contentment as the first bite of biscuits and gravy settled deliciously on her tongue. She closed her eyes, savoring the flavor. When she opened them again, she found Lauren staring at her, her hazel eyes dancing. “You okay over there?” she asked in amusement.

      Remi chuckled. “It’s been so long since I’ve had biscuits and gravy. I’ve missed good Southern cooking,” she said, her drawl coming through.

      “I can tell,” Lauren giggled. “Hey, I have to volunteer at the library this afternoon,” she continued as Remi took another bite. “Would you want to go with me? It’s only for a few hours.”

      Remi shrugged and nodded her head. “Yeah, sure. I haven’t been downtown in ages.”

      “Okay, awesome!” Lauren answered. “We’ll leave in about an hour.”

      After Remi finished her late breakfast and washed her plate and silverware she slipped back to her room to finish getting ready. She tied her hair into a messy bun and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste from her duffle bag. She reached for her phone to find a missed call and another text, this time from Sam.

      “Remi, where are you? Cas said you left. I just want to talk. Call me.”

      How could Sam expect her to want to talk to him after all the callous things he had said to her? Remi rolled her eyes instead before she once more threw her phone to the bed.

**********

     Remi milled around the library, walking along the shelves that lined every corner of the old building. Her fingers slid over the spines, her eyes scanning over the myriad of titles. She recognized some of the books, having read them when she was younger.

      She slowly made her way up the stairs to the second floor, the refurbished floorboards creaking under her feet. Although this floor held several shelves of books, it was dedicated to the history of Gentry, historical and vintage items filling several glass cases. Remi breathed in deep, the smell of mildew and dust mingling with the heady scent of aging paper. This floor had always been her favorite, not only because of the history that lined nearly every wall, but the quiet sitting area nestled behind the shelves of books.

      She took a book from one of the shelves and sat down on the overstuffed couch, sinking down into its plush cushions. Silence invaded the space around her and soon enough she was engaged in the story, the words leaping off the page and creating a vivid image in her mind.

      Remi was so engrossed in the book that she barely noticed the buzzing under her. She frowned as she felt it again before she realized it was her phone. She took it from her back pocket to find that Sam was once again calling her. She swiped her finger to the left, declining the call before she set her phone down beside her, once more focusing on the page before her.

      After a few moments her phone buzzed again, this time indicating a voicemail. She stared at the screen until it went black a few seconds later. She continued reading, but this time she found it more difficult to concentrate as her mind flicked back to the voicemail. Finally she sighed heavily, closing the book abruptly and placing it on her lap. She picked up her phone, going straight to her voicemail.

      “Hey, Remi, it’s me…Sam,” he sighed. “Listen, I know things didn’t go the way you planned the other day. But…I’m starting to worry. Please call me back.”

      Remi huffed incredulously as she dropped the phone on the cushion beside her. She had barely been gone for a day and already he was concerned. What about her? He had left so abruptly she had little time to process anything, let alone where he was going or what he was doing. He could have died and she would have been none the wiser.

      For two days Sam and Dean texted and called her. Each time they implored a little more, desperation starting to settle in. Each time Remi ignored them, the pain in her heart still too thick and heavy to respond. She didn’t even care if they were hurt; they had hurt her, and she found very little empathy for their obvious worry.

      Every text was different, the boys using various tactics to get her to respond. But each one said that same thing: “I’m sorry. Please come home.” 

     Remi finally threw her phone across the room with a scream, the device thumping against the wall with a heavy thud. She was fuming when she went over to it, a sense of satisfaction falling over her when she realized her phone was broken. She knew the boys would eventually track her GPS when they realized she wasn’t going to respond to their pleas, and she didn’t want to fall into that trap. She wasn’t ready to face them again and she knew living off the grid was the only way to escape it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

Everything:

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Dean Girls:

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Sam Girls:

@saladsammys​

[peachysnows]

Rich || pt.2

Reader (you) x Jaebum

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: suggestive content

note: omg sorry for the crappy chapter. i have a headache and my day ain’t going well but u know, we love a new update! enjoy!

About the Author ||  pt.1

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

“Jinyoung, I can sleep somewhere else.” I continued to plead. “I’ll be fine, don't worry.” 

Living with a person whom I was unfamiliar scared me. All of a sudden, it has been decided that I would stay with Jaebum. How did I not get a say in this? The uneasy knot in my stomach made me uncomfortable. Honestly, I didn't want to live anywhere else except Jinyoung's place. Even if his parents hated me, I would rather sleep in his bed than the sheets of a complete stranger.

“(Y/N), Jaebum is a good man. Trust him. He's the boss’ son so he's pretty well mannered.” Jinyoung reassured me as the soft palms of his hands took mine. The heat in my cheeks started flare as Jinyoung’s touch faded out my worrisome thoughts. It was only Jinyoung and I in an elevator; alone. No one else could disturb us. And that was what I wanted.   

“Boss’ son?” I chuckled under my breath. “Let me guess, he's from a rich family too.”

“Well his father owns the company, babe. Of course.” Jinyoung smiled as his arms slowly tugged my waist. His face tucked in the crook of my neck, his breathe sending shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes and embraced his scent.

“Jinyoung.” I breathed out as I felt his fingers trickle down towards my ass, giving it a good squeeze. I slightly gasped under my breath as Jinyoung continued to touch me. My heart was rapidly racing. Every touch was fire and I craved for more. The warmth of his breath on my neck only heightened my feelings as he moved his face merely inches away from mine.

“I trust him enough to take care of you, babe. You know I wouldn't let any man lay a hand on you. It's just for a few days then, I can have you all for myself.” Jinyoung whispered as his lips grazed against mine. 

I leaned in, connecting our lips together. The soft lips moved against mine, sending heat down my body. His fingers brushed through my hair before gripping it tightly. I moaned against his lips, focusing on how close his body was to me. My hands touched his soft cheeks, pulling him closer as we shared a passionate kiss. As expected, the moment was ruined as the elevator soon came to a stop. Simultaneously, we both pulled away from each other, both cheeks flushed with lust.

“Text me before you go to sleep.” Jinyoung whispered in my ear before planting a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“If I make it to bed alive.” I joked as I left Jinyoung in the elevator, walking into a wide parking lot. Sighing to myself, I waited for Jaebum to pull up with his car, just like he told me a few minutes ago. Taking in a deep breath, I tried to fan my face to get rid of the red cheeks I had after the makeout session with Jinyoung. A loud engine echoed in the parking lot, making its presence known. Sooner or later, a black car pulled up with the windows rolled down. 

“Get in the car. We don't have all day.” Jaebum stated inside the car.

“How flattering.” I rolled my eyes as I entered the car. “Is this how you greet your guests?” 

I was only answered with silence as he pressed on the gas petal and drove off. Only the radio playing in the background and his loud engine filled the void. I shuffled uncomfortably and looked outside the night sky. Right now, only the stars could give me comfort in this situation. To think of it, I had no one else to turn to except Jinyoung; my shining prince.

“Flustered?” I heard Jaebum chuckled under his breath, breaking the silence. “Don't worry, I'll keep your dirty little secret.” 

“Excuse me?” I exclaimed, raising my voice in disbelief. Self-consciously, my hands touched my face as I felt heat rise up again. 

“You and Jinyoung. Is this a friend with benefit thing or are you secretly dating behind the Park family?” Jaebum asked, slightly smirking as he drove rather quickly down the road.  

“I'm not answering that.” I replied coldly as I played with the fabric of my shirt. As Jinyoung mentioned, Jaebum was, or should be, a well-mannered guy. Yet, right now, Jaebum was pinching on every single of my nerves with his arrogant attitude. If he wasn’t a stranger, I would’ve already yelled at him for putting his nose in my business. How on earth did he know that Jinyoung and I had a thing for each other? It wasn’t that obvious was it?

“You’ll answer it eventually with your actions.” Jaebum said. I rolled my eyes and kept silent throughout the whole ride. Jaebum was adding on to the problems I had to deal with for the next few days. Not the ideal environment I would like to be in. However, his ignorant words were something I had to get used to. Although, he may be incredibly sexy, he was someone that played with girls’ heart. And I could see it in his eyes.

We arrived at a large gate that covered most of the area. Jaebum had to press a few buttons on the side before the gate opened to reveal a large modern house. The roof was flat and there was no visible chimney. The front door was metallic and opened with both a keypad and biometric scanner. Immediately, I hopped off the car and admired the house. Once again, proving to me that only rich men could afford such a breathtaking place. 

To add onto my fascination, the interior matched the exterior. The walls were fashionable shades of white and the floor polished concrete. There was no clutter of shoes or jackets, no clutter of any kind. The only organic matter in sight were white orchids on the dark cherry coffee table. The kitchen was large enough for an army of chefs, there were two ovens and acres of brown flecked white granite on which to prepare food. It was bigger than Jinyoung’s house and much prettier. Then I thought to myself, maybe it wasn’t so bad living here.

“Get comfortable. Do whatever you want. Your room is on the second floor to your right.” Jaebum firmly stated before he walked off in the other direction and into a room. I sighed to myself as I tried to soak in the situation. If this was how I’m going to live for the next few days, I better get used to it.  

I stood for a few moments, contemplating on my next move. I concluded on getting food as it was the only thing that made me happy. What I’ve seen at Jinyoung’s place were chefs roaming around the kitchen, preparing meals for him. Jaebum had no one in his kitchen. This could mean that he cooked his own meals or that his maids went home. I shrugged to myself as I started to open cupboards to find food.

I can cook for myself. No need for fancy maids, I thought as I roamed around.

“What are you doing?” A voice from behind asked, causing me to slightly flinch. I turned around to look at Jaebum leaning against the wall. His black shirt was half buttoned down, exposing the slightest skin of his chest. A few pieces on his hair hung down onto his face, hiding the fact that he was exhausted. I couldn’t lie to myself saying that he didn’t look good. Jaebum looked incredibly seductive. The way he leaned on the wall with his arms crossed as his eyes scanned my actions, made me feel fuzzy. However, I couldn’t let that distract me. My heart was with Jinyoung and it will remain that way. 

“You said I can do whatever I want. So, I’m cooking.” I stated as I grabbed two packs of ramen I found in the cupboards.

“You’re cooking two bowls of ramen. How are you going to finish it all?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I looked at him and raised the two packets in my hands, giving him an unimpressed look. 

“One for you. One for me.” I huffed out as I continued to search for utilities in the kitchen. 

“I don’t eat at around this time, baby girl.” Jaebum smirked as he ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it a bit. God, why did every little thing he did made my heart skip a beat? The rough, messy look on him only enhanced his visuals. I couldn’t tell if my hormones were acting up but, Jaebum knew how to make a girl weak to the knees. 

“Good,” I beamed at him, ignoring my thoughts, “More for me.”

I heard Jaebum chuckle under his breath before exiting the kitchen. Taking in a deep breath, I shook my head and started to cook two bowls of ramen. A small part of me wanted Jaebum to come back to keep me company. His powerful presence had an effect and I wanted more. Yet, suddenly, I asked myself why I was doing this. Jaebum was a stranger, who invited me inside my house, and was a complete asshole. And here I am thinking about him joining me for dinner and keeping me entertained with his visuals.

Snap out of it, I thought to myself as I started to cook. I can’t let Jaebum mess with my feelings, especially when I was dealing with some problems myself. 

Pouring out a serving for myself, I sat down with my phone in hand and started to eat my ramen. I texted Jinyoung for, hoping to get some company since Jaebum had left me on my own. Beginning to get bored, I searched up different banks that could loan me money. If I can’t do anything at the moment, at least I can find something that could. My own thoughts were interrupted by the distant footsteps approaching the kitchen. My eyes slightly looked up from my screen to see Jaebum mindlessly wandering around the area. 

“I thought you didn’t eat around this time.” I said, looking down at my phone again.  

“Well it smelt good from my office and it made me hungry.” Jaebum replied as he took the pot from the stove and sat down in front of me.  

“Good thing I made extras.” I stated, looking down at my phone again. We both ate in silence as I tried to distract myself with my phone. His aura was making my heart race. Just the thought of him and his messy hair made my head go wild. I had to resist myself from looking at Jaebum. Otherwise, my heart would be strained from this new feeling. It was strange because I never had that kind of feeling with Jinyoung before. And here, sitting in front of me, was a man who made me feel different emotions. He hasn’t even touched me, and I’m already wanting more of him. 

Mentally, I shook away the thoughts that clouded my head and tried to finish my meal. No one could make me feel eccentric but Jinyoung. I had to remind myself. Not even this stranger that I’ve only met for a few hours. However, I may have spoken too soon. 

I was almost done with my meal until the soft, yet rough skin of his calloused fingers came in contact with the corner of my mouth. I looked up, in shock, as I watched Jaebum wipe away the food stuck on my face. Suddenly, I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I observed Jaebum. 

“Wha-”

“You had food on your mouth.” Jaebum smiled as he sat back down on his seat and continued to eat his meal. How could he act so calm and collected?  Did he know what kind of effect he had on me? It was only one touch yet, my whole body reacted. A rush of acceleration spread from my heart as his hand came in contact with my face. Was it bad that I wanted more? 

“Uh, thanks.” I mumbled out of my mouth as I quickly stood up from my seat. Why was I feeling so aroused at the moment? Was it Jaebum’s stare or was it from the ramen? At this point, I couldn’t decipher what I was feeling. Maybe a quick shower could help me sort my thoughts. 

Quickly putting away my bowl, I scurried away and tried to find the bathroom, hoping to get rid of Jaebum from my mind. Finally arriving to one, I stripped my clothes and turned on the facet of the shower. Stepping inside the marbled stone, the warm water flowed from my face down to my body. I pressed my forehead and hands against the cold, tiled wall as I close my eyes. Why? Why does it have to be him? My lovers’ best friend. I wanted to bang my head against the wall, hoping to remove these thoughts from my head. Instead, I focused on cherishing the feeling of warm water hitting my back. I took my time to relax in the warm water as I slowly cleaned my body. And what seemed like an hour, I stepped outside the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. 

Taking a peek outside the bathroom door, planning an escape route without getting caught. Since I had only a towel wrapped around my naked body, I had to run quickly to my room. Gently closing the door, I walked slowly down the large hallway. Then making a sharp turn, I came into contact with a large figure.

“What the fuck?” I cursed under my breath as I started to realize I was losing my balance due to my soaked feet. I gripped my towel, holding it together as I felt arms wrapped around my waist. 

Jaebum’s eyes came into contact with mine as he pulled me up. His hands were burning fire as he continued to maintain his grip. And just like that, we were inches away from each other. His piercing eyes made their way down to my parted lips. My heart began to race as he continued to look at me with those gentle eyes. Leaning in, his finger touched the bottom of my chin, nudging me to look up at him. 

At this moment, I started to feel ecstatic. My breath started to become heavier as Jaebum’s lips were so close to mine. This was a new feeling I never had with Jinyoung. I wanted his lean body to press against mine. I wanted his calloused hand to feel every part of my body until I was weak to my knees. I wanted his pink lips to press against mine and kiss until my lips bruised. Beyond this point, lust guided me to a place I wanted to explore. Without even thinking, I leaned in… 

[missmeikakuna]

Tired Girl Ch. 4- F/F Fantasy story

Rated: T

Fandom: Original story

Relationship type: F/F

Description:

High schooler Nosderag is childish, impulsive and- worst of all- powerless in a magical world. Her strong sense of empathy leads her to rescue an injured fairy and bring it back to her dorm, to the chagrin of her love-powered rumoured lesbian roommate Dalzonf. Together they try to return the fairy to its enclosure before they get arrested for animal theft.

The problem is, people with love powers are seen as criminals, putting a giant target on Dalzonf’s back. 

CONTENT WARNING: This story will have homophobia, bullying and discussions of sexual assault.

Chapter 4: Anxious Girl

Nosderag slowly and oh-so-casually walked back inside, Dalzonf following close behind. They went straight to the elevator and made sure to be the only ones there. No one was to see the effects of love magic on Nosderag.

This time the effects included Nosderag twirling one of her dreadlocks and gazing at Dalzonf with an innocent lip bite. Her uniform skirt swirled around as she swayed back and forth.

While Dalzonf waited for the effects to wear off, Nosderag tried to look around the room. Just like before, everything but Dalzonf was out of focus. However, she noticed something.

On Dalzonf’s bedside table was a miniature idol that was wearing green. ‘Is that Terio?’ Nosderag asked, squinting her eyes in the hopes that it would come into focus. Dalzonf hummed and nodded. ‘So, like, why? Shouldn’t you have a Marosos statue? Since she's, you know, the goddess of… love?’ Nosderag batted her eyelids at that last word. Dalzonf rolled her eyes at the gesture of affection.

‘My parents are from Terio city, so we worship her mostly.’

Nosderag giggled. ‘Huh, why do they name places after gods anyway? Isn’t that confusing? It doesn’t make any sense. And why-’

‘Alright, that’s enough out of you.’ Dalzonf chuckled. ‘You are so drunk.’

‘I am not! I haven’t had any alcohol.’

‘You’re drunk on… you know what? You’re going to get back to normal soon enough. I don’t know why I’m trying to reason with you when you’re like this.’

As if on cue, Nosderag snapped out of her daze. Dalzonf asked, ‘So what are we going to do about this fairy?’

Nosderag opened her already slightly open backpack further, letting out Daliki. ‘She must be so hungry. Will you feed her?’

Dalzonf held out a hand but curled her fingers in hesitation. Eventually she touched Daliki’s head and closed her eyes. A thin stream of pink mist surrounded the fairy and then entered her mouth. She gulped the magic down and then flew to Dalzonf’s side, rapidly nuzzling her.

Dalzonf tried to move away from Daliki but she continued showing affection. ‘Be grateful you don’t have magic,’ she said to Nosderag, who frowned when Dalzonf pushed Daliki away. ‘Anyway, we need to get her back to that enclosure.’

‘Should we just tell them what happened and clear up the misunderstanding?’

‘Yeah, no. I’m not risking running into the police.’

‘But you haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘I don’t have to,’ Dalzonf retorted, creating a small ball of pink mist in the palm of her hand. Nosderag nodded in understanding.

‘So are we going to sneak in? What about the guards? And the magic shield… wait, how did I make it into that shed? It had a shield around it. I felt it but I made it through.’

‘Huh. Maybe you have powers after all. Is there such a thing as a power to break magic shields? Either that or their shields suck. That’s a distinct possibility. Whatever the case, we can use that to our advantage.’

The two were about to start planning when Nosderag’s stomach grumbled. After descending to the ground floor, Dalzonf led a lovesick Nosderag to the dining hall in the dormitory. She tried to ignore the stares from other students as Nosderag kept attempting to grab her hand.

The dining hall was about the size of a professional soccer field. Tall torches in the shapes of dragons stood at the perimeter, several metres apart from each other. Orange force fields surrounded the flames to prevent them from getting out of control. The tables were made of black wood designed to seem like charcoal. On top of each table were bowls of various brightly coloured fruits. A cart with a long line of students stood against a wall. In addition to granite plates and bowls, the cart contained sikoka beans for making hot sikoka, smelly dried blue kie kriz fish and a ridiculous amount of rice. 

Hanging over everyone’s head was a medieval European-style chandelier with, you guessed it, fire at the ends. At the end of the hall was a low platform with a giant unused cauldron atop it. Students loved to write inane and often offensive messages on the outside of the cauldron in pen. Knowing how many times this happened, the teachers never bothered to clean it.

Nosderag, still affected by love magic and seeing that she was in a public setting, tried singing another serenade. Dalzonf’s shoulders jumped up. Everyone was staring in silence. As soon as she could, she covered the other girl’s hand with her mouth. It was too late.

‘I guess she was getting desperate,’ Sosoka whispered to a friend, who cackled a little too loud.

Dalzonf lowered her head, turning back into the vulnerable girl Nosderag defended a week ago. She shuffled to the food cart line, Nosderag following closely behind.

When Nosderag returned to her senses and looked around the hall in confusion, Sosoka and her friend laughed at the sight. The other students joined in. The girls in line stepped away from Dalzonf while still keeping their spots in the line.

‘Why don’t you just tell them about the elevator?’ Nosderag whispered in her ear, absentmindedly grabbing her arm. Dalzonf tore her arm away and turned towards her with a fire in her eyes to rival all the torches in the room combined.

She ignored her for the entirety of breakfast and left for class without saying a word. The two didn’t share their first class of the day.

Instead, Nosderag had Potions Sapphire Class. As one of the few omlers on campus, she had a more limited curriculum but had to make up for it by taking more advanced classes and excelling in academics. While everyone else her age was in Potions Topaz, she was a year ahead.

A fact that brought a scowl to her teacher Dr Lomaschramm’s lips.

‘Try not to make anything explode this time, Ms Zotmin.’ The teacher’s voice went up and down like a children’s show character. Or a poor person’s impersonation of a rich person. Take your pick. Nosderag tried to laugh the comment off as she took her seat.

The air of the classroom was chilly thanks to the refrigerated potion pantries in the back. The teachers claimed that this was not the case as the fridges were closed. The non-refrigerated potions were kept in a wide, locked cabinet against a wall. A fat lot of good that lock did when students kept punching the unshielded glass and taking out potions to pull pranks on each other.

The class was small, with only half of the ten benches being used. Nosderag turned to her designated lab partner for the term but the other girl ignored her. Someone whispered behind her but stopped when she turned around.

‘I hope you’re paying attention in class, Ms Zotmin.’

Dr Lomaschramm towered over Nosderag. Her hooked, pointy nose made her cat-eye glasses slip down it as she looked down on her. She smelled of hand sanitizer and, when she opened her mouth, minty toothpaste.

‘Now, what do we never mix Aja’s Vine with?’

‘Himalayan healing water.’

Dr Lomaschramm pursed her lips. After a moment of thought, she grinned, showing off her eerily perfect white teeth. 

‘And why is that?’ Nosderag didn’t answer. The teacher turned her back on the class and returned to the whiteboard. She picked up a marker and began writing the first sentence of her answer. ‘We… do… not… mix... healing... potions... together. They’re like those newfangled interwebz security softwares. They compete against each other and are unable to work. Unlike the softwares, two healing potions will create an explosion.’

As she continued her lecture, Nosderag slumped in her seat, trying not to fall asleep. Slumping in her seat soon turned into slumping onto her bench. She closed her eyes.

A second later, she heard a zap and felt a sting on her neck, making her sit up in attention. She didn’t have to turn her head. The sound of snickering students allowed her to fill in the blanks.

‘Save your tolxing for the classes that require it,’ Dr Lomaschramm said.

The laughing quietened but was still audible. 

Nosderag’s other classes were similar. Strict and seemingly sadistic teachers, students high on schadenfreude and lessons that could put an insomniac to sleep.

There was one exception: cryptozoology. No, not the omler version in which wackjobs search for Bigfoot for the millionth time. It was a class dedicated to real magical creatures. The teacher Mr Fot was a portly soft-spoken old man with a clear passion for the field but little confidence in controlling a classroom of bored students. However, he always greeted Nosderag with a smile and gave her high marks. She listened to his classes with rapt attention, in stark contrast with the other students.

The classroom for this subject was cramped between two similarly plain rooms. The only interesting thing about this room was the globe on Mr Fot’s desk, which was decorated with pictures of magical creatures on the countries they originated from. The man brought it into the classroom every day in the hopes that it would inspire intellectual curiosity in his students.

Most of the students were too busy making jokes about his name, which meant ‘flow’.

‘Hey, sir, do you want some tampons?’ one girl asked in between fits of laughter.

When Mr Fot sincerely replied, ‘Oh, no thank you, I don’t need them,’ Nosderag’s heart broke on his behalf.

When Nosderag returned to her dorm, she kept interrupting her fairy-saving plan meeting with Dalzonf to rant about her day. Dalzonf eventually gave up on planning and listened to the other girl’s ramblings.

She even found herself smiling at Nosderag’s wild array of facial expressions.

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, Valuable, 8: More useful than simple baubles touched mystery, these items have either a clear purpose, a reliable ability or are made from a fairly costly material. The items could fetch fair prices to collectors of the strange, jewelers, antique or art dealers or simply to barter with if the owner is short on actual currency.

A braided silver cord on which ten hexagonal gold coins are strung. Each coin has a square hole in its center which seems to be on purpose but is impossible to confirm, as the coins are minted with an unknown set of symbols and lettering.

A shiny platinum bangle inlaid with arcane runes that seem to each be written by a different hand.

Oil Of The Masters: A leather belt pouch containing five identical sealed glass vials, all filled with a gold-tinted oil that smells of wood shavings. When the contents of a vial is applied to the strings of a stringed instrument or the body of a woodwind, it improves the quality of the instrument's sound. It takes one minute to apply the oil, after which time anyone playing the instrument gains advantage on the appropriate performance check.

Smoldering Lobes: A pair of gold earrings set with flame shaped rubies. The studs become intensely warm on the ears when the bearer's given name is audibly spoken within 50 feet.

An ornate timepiece constructed from a combination of refined Gnomish tinkering and arcane magic. It accurately displays the current date and time regardless of the plane it is used on.

Jar of Jars: A completely ordinary looking mason jar with a lid that cannot be unsealed. When dashed upon the ground, this jar shatters into 33 identical (Though non-magical) jars.

An ornate brooch fashioned from exotic sapphires and crafted in the shape of the flesh-eating, skull-carapaced, scarab beetle.

Beans of Autocoquere: A small cloth drawstring bag containing 3d12 rotten-looking beans. If force fed to a  dead animal, the corpse will briefly animate and use any means at hand to cook and make itself into a meal as if it had been prepared from start to finish by a team of master chefs.

A full sealed bottle of ancient elven wine, old by even the long lived elven standards. The family name and bottling date are still legible, it may have significant sentimental value to someone or monetary value to a collector.

A locket made of solid opal attached to an indestructible chain necklace. Attached to the inside of the locket is a bright pink-gold feather belonging to the Goddess of Birds.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A braided silver cord on which ten hexagonal gold coins are strung. Each coin has a square hole in its center which seems to be on purpose but is impossible to confirm, as the coins are minted with an unknown set of symbols and lettering.

A shiny platinum bangle inlaid with arcane runes that seem to each be written by a different hand.

Oil Of The Masters: A leather belt pouch containing five identical sealed glass vials, all filled with a gold-tinted oil that smells of wood shavings. When the contents of a vial is applied to the strings of a stringed instrument or the body of a woodwind, it improves the quality of the instrument's sound. It takes one minute to apply the oil, after which time anyone playing the instrument gains advantage on the appropriate performance check.

Smoldering Lobes: A pair of gold earrings set with flame shaped rubies. The studs become intensely warm on the ears when the bearer's given name is audibly spoken within 50 feet.

An ornate timepiece constructed from a combination of refined Gnomish tinkering and arcane magic. It accurately displays the current date and time regardless of the plane it is used on.

Jar of Jars: A completely ordinary looking mason jar with a lid that cannot be unsealed. When dashed upon the ground, this jar shatters into 33 identical (Though non-magical) jars.

An ornate brooch fashioned from exotic sapphires and crafted in the shape of the flesh-eating, skull-carapaced, scarab beetle.

Beans of Autocoquere: A small cloth drawstring bag containing 3d12 rotten-looking beans. If force fed to a  dead animal, the corpse will briefly animate and use any means at hand to cook and make itself into a meal as if it had been prepared from start to finish by a team of master chefs.

A full sealed bottle of ancient elven wine, old by even the long lived elven standards. The family name and bottling date are still legible, it may have significant sentimental value to someone or monetary value to a collector.

A locket made of solid opal attached to an indestructible chain necklace. Attached to the inside of the locket is a bright pink-gold feather belonging to the Goddess of Birds.

A six inch silver fish hook encased in a clear glass cube. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as the second place trophy of the annual fishing competition of a local port city.  

A heavy coin with one gold side bearing a raised image of the sun and a silver side with a stamped symbol of the moon.  

A bundle of satyr skins tied together with grapevines and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

A single charred earring that when worn, allows the bearer to speak Ignan, the language of fire creatures, but only to say: "I don't actually speak Ignan. I only know that sentence, and this one explaining it.” The bearer is not granted the ability to understand the language and doesn’t comprehend what they just said unless they are already fluent.

A leather wallet stamped with the twinned symbols of a folded letter and the king's personal seal, that contains a full set of certified identification papers denoting that the bearer is a trusted and bonded courier of the local kingdom and is allowed to travel or pass anywhere in the realm in order to fulfill their delivery duties. The section containing the courier's physical description (Height, weight, sex, race, eye, skin and hair colour) is completely blank and could be filled in by anyone with skilled handwriting.

A delicate, life sized, silver minnow that moves like a real fish. The minnow has a gold hook in its mouth and is strung on a fine chain and meant to be worn as a necklace.

A one foot square piece of white cloth that absorbs any material that stains it, becoming perfectly clean over the course of an hour.

A polished silver broach in the shape of a rose. The bearer can spend a moment in concentration to cause the broach to change into the shape of any flower he is familiar with.

Vase of Blooms: An exquisitely cut crystal vase whose facets sparkle with their own internal light. Flowers placed in this vase will bloom within one hour, if unopened, and will remain fresh and in full bloom for up to one week without water, light or any sort of care. After one week in the vase the flowers will wilt and decay at an accelerated rate.

A finely worked chalice of pure gold that bears the stamped symbol of a sun rising upon a blooming rose

An ornate silver flute that when played, creates illusory musical notes which dance to the music around the player. The visual quality and movement of the notes depend on the skill of the musician. A poor player with a shoddy or simple song produces small pitiful illusions that mope around, while a master musician playing an orchestral piece creates large vibrant illusionary notes that flow in tune with the melody.

A bundle of good quality, sleek fisher pelts tied together with silk and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

Sustaining Spoon, Damaged: A silver spoon which can produce one bowl of a nourishing bland tasting broth per day when used to stir boiling water. The broth has enough nourishment to sustain an adult human for an entire day, however the creature still feels hunger pains as if they had not eaten or drank a thing. A creature could theoretically sustain themselves indefinitely by only eating the broth created by the spoon, however the hunger pains would continue to mount until the user feels the phantom pains of his digestive system consuming him alive, no doubt driving him insane. Knowledgeable PC’s will know that fully functioning Sustaining Spoons do not have the same problems with the phantom hunger pains and a creature could survive quite comfortable eating only the broth created by the object. It is rumored that some of these faulty spoons are created on purpose by ascetic monks wishing to experience hunger without actually starving themselves to death. Darker rumors still say that the source of these damaged spoons are tortures who leave their victims with one of these spoons and a bowl of boiling water per day. The victim feels themselves starving to death without any actual damage to their body, allowing their minds to be broken after months of constant excruciating pain, without risking the hostage's physical health.  

A wand composed of five sections; a short crystal, followed by a silver bar, then a black handle, followed by another silver bar, and ending with a long crystal. The wand is delicately engraved with images resembling a vine of thrones gently wrapping around the shaft. The implement isn't currently charged with any magical power but could easily be enchanted.  

A richly woven tapestry decorated with nautical patterns.

Ramble Rubble: A rough chunk of granite that was once part of a building's foundation. If the object has been on a creature's person (Held, carried, stowed in baggage or equipment, etc.) for longer than one minute it causes the bearer to compulsively trail off into different conversations whenever they speak. The effect is extremely noticeable to the bearer as well as any who listen to him. The effect ceases as soon as the stone is removed from the bearer's person or it is placed in a lead lined container.

A varnished cherry wood chest containing a matching set of eight plain silver cups.

A 50 foot long coil of silken cable, intricately braided and tasseled.

Tarnished Treasure: A perpetually dirty copper coin that when rubbed, polishes all other exposed metal around it in a five foot radius. Any polishes or cleaning products applied to the coin are evenly distributed among the exposed metals within the radius.

A waterproof leather satchel containing a complete set of richly embroidered blue silk sleeping robes

A large sealed cylindrical case containing an elegant tapestry depicting an important historical event.

A black leather case containing a set of fine jewelcrafting tools.

Gravelly Tonic: A leather belt pouch containing five identical sealed glass vials, all filled with a sludgy tonic whose scent resembles the tang of iron shavings. If consumed, the drinker's voice deepens and becomes more grating for 1d4 hours, granting advantage on intimidate checks.

A large sack containing an array of flags and banners once flown by nations now extinct.

An indestructible porcelain doll garbed in a beautiful ball gown.

A long spiraling antelope warhorn, polished and banded in silver.

The Cruel Art of Paper Folding: A small, cherry wood box carved with an ornate serpent dragon design. The box is filled with dozens of sheets of thin rice paper in Random Colours that can be easily folded into geometric or animal shapes. The inside of the lid has a few simple instructions printed on the wood. Animals sculpted by folding the paper becomes animated and shamble around as if in pain. The more complex and well folded the animal is the more animated it becomes. The sculptures will continue to shamble around until the paper becomes so damaged it falls apart. Knowledgeable PC's will realize that the sheets were made from magically awakened, intelligent rice plants that were killed and harvested in their prime to create the paper.

A matching pair of crystal vases etched with scenes of dueling mages.

A trio of gold statuettes depicting three wise monkeys; their eyes are green tourmalines.

A delicate, almost translucent, greenish-white onyx bowl that will hold more liquid than its size suggests.

A grotesque-looking jade mask with large ears and mother of pearl eyes rimmed with obsidian.

Hair Clip Colorizer: A rainbow hued, glass hair clip in the shape of a blossoming flower. The bearer can change the colour of their hair at will, so long as they only choose unnatural colours based on their species (Humans for instance could choose blue, green, violet, etc.). The bearer can change parts or all of their hair to change colour and choose multiple different unnatural colours at once. The bearer can choose to return their hair to normal at any time and the effect fades instantly if the hair clip is removed.

A small, masterfully done painting in a gilded frame, depicting a giant’s castle in the clouds under attack from a flight of dragons.

A Randomly Coloured vest made from a luxurious, silky material that always makes the bearer appear more fit and physically attractive. The clothing gently hugs the bearer, redistributing weight and muscle to flatter and accentuate their physique. It seems to deflate sadly once taken off.

Killing Jar: A clear glass quart-sized jar containing a single cotton ball, soaked in ether. Any creature that's sealed in the jar instantly dies and stays perfectly preserved for as long as it remains in the jar, decaying normally if removed.

Mirror of Recent Past: A large hand mirror whose back and handle are made from a single piece of polished horn. A creature that looks upon their reflection sees the face of the last creature (Other than themselves) who gazed upon it.

Rings of Heckling. A pair of beaten iron rings with the symbol of a pair of mustachioed old men etched on the outer banding. When the rings are worn on the bearer's middle fingers and the wearer’s hands are cupped to shout an insult, the sound of the yelling is multiplied by a factor of ten.

Tome of Origami Animals: A massive, metal-bound tome filled with thin pages of beaten copper, each of which is indented with arcane sigils indicating precise folding points for the creation of various origami creatures. When one or more pages are torn out and folded, the copper sheets magically shrink or expand to create a pleated origami approximation of the desired creature. Once created, each origami creature is animated with a semblance of life, and obeys the commands of its creator. The user can fold pages to craft a fantastic variety of creature ranging from as big as a large dog to as small as a mouse. The creatures are sturdy enough to move around and interact with some objects, but cannot fly, swim or fight. Crafting an origami animal requires both hands and 30 seconds of concentration. Each one lasts for one hour before crumbling into useless copper shards. The tome has 2d20+10 intact pages when found.

A single seashell earring that when worn, allows the bearer to speak Aquan, the language of water creatures, but only to say: "I don't actually speak Aquan. I only know that sentence, and this one explaining it.” The bearer is not granted the ability to understand the language and doesn’t comprehend what they just said unless they are already fluent.

Wand of the Disgraced Conjurer: A well crafted elm wand can be used once per day to summon forth a blue rabbit that croaks like a frog, smells like a cat and is as intelligent as a well-trained dog. The creature will obey the summoner's verbal instructions to the best of its limited ability (It cannot speak, attack or activate magic items) before disappearing after 10 minutes. If the creature takes any damage it instantly disappears and cannot be summoned for 24 hours.

Amulet of the Rabid: A necklace constructed from the small bones and sinew of a dog that died of rabies. The bearer of this amulet can choose to drool and froth as the mouth at will as if they were rabid. During combat, the bearer froths uncontrollably and cannot stop it until the fighting is over. Any creature who views the bearer while the amulet is functioning suspects they will become ill and die if scratched or bitten by the bearer and onlookers suffer disadvantage on any medicine checks to diagnose if the bearer truly has rabies or not. This effect does not impair the bearer’s ability to speak.

A leather wallet stamped with the symbol of a mage's tower, that contains a full set of certified identification papers denoting that the bearer is a graduate and current member in good standing of a prestigious wizard's college. The section containing the member's physical description (Height, weight, sex, race, eye, skin and hair colour) is completely blank and could be filled in by anyone with skilled handwriting.

An exquisite but clearly damaged longsword, bearing a deep blue sapphire nestled in a gleaming silver pommel. A slender blade that shoots from the golden-outlined cross-guard is broken in half, the breaking-point resembles shattered glass. The edge is cold to the touch and a faint, thin mist surrounds it at all times.

Locket of Instant Moustache: A mustache shaped locked made of brushed brass. When opened, the bearer (Male or female) instantly grows a full thick mustache. When the locket is closed or if it leaves the bearer's possession, the mustache immediately evaporates. The locket only grows one specific style of mustache at a time, however a bearer can change the design of the facial hair to any natural style capable of being grown in under a year, by means of a one hour ritual during which time they concentrate and hold the locket.

Tome of Insults: A small, indestructible paperback book that fits into most pockets and can be easily manipulated in one hand. It is filled to the brim with insults, jabs, and jokes at the expense of the person, creature, or god that the reader wishes to mock. A viewer can see the book instantly rewrite itself when the bearer starts to insult a new target, filling itself with new material. The bearer of this book will always have access to a fresh nasty retort or brand new line of verbal abuse and the book's scorns have a way of way of finding the target's soft spots. Knowledgeable PC's will have heard that this book is believed to have been created by a trickster god who was attempting to get under the skin of his far more serious brother.

A bundle of good quality, glossy silver fox pelts tied together with silk and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

A long rod of obsidian from which grinning sickle moons leer in constantly shifting patterns. It’s topped with a spray of silver feathers and a blue gem the size of a human eye.

A set of silver and gold bagpipes with ruby trim that when played, in addition to sounding perfectly on key and smooth, emits a fragrant smell that makes those around you calm and relaxed.  

Babble Stone: A smooth gray river stone. If the object has been on a creature's person (Held, carried, stowed in baggage or equipment, etc.) for longer than one minute it causes all of the bearer's speech to become incomprehensible gibberish. The effect is extremely noticeable to the bearer as well as any who listen to him.  The effect ceases as soon as the stone is removed from the bearer's person or it is placed in a lead lined container.

Bauble of Gnome-Peeping: A crystal scrying ball whose divination magic is inexplicably linked to a specific gnome in the world. When the command word is spoken, the crystal shows a third-person view and muffled audio of that gnome. Should the gnome ever die, the bauble randomly selects a new gnome in the world. The crystal can be used as often as desired although many creatures regard its use to be an invasion of privacy.

Fork of Greater Poultry: A four pronged, steel fork that causes anything eaten with it to taste like chicken.

Periapt of Proof Against the Flesh: A small pendant made of a dull gray river stone in a cheap tin setting, strung on a braided hemp string. This periapt protects the bearer from the worldly desires of the flesh. While it's worn, food and drink taste bland, the bearer's sense of smell is dulled, voices and music become monotone, he can only see in black and white and the bearer becomes sexually apathetic. The pendant must be worn for one hour before it’s effects take hold and continue for one minute after it is removed. Knowledgeable PC’s will know that objects like these were crafted by an order of monks to aid their weaker willed members to resist the sins of the flesh when forced to travel in villages or large cities where temptations abound.

Mirror of Recollection: An ornate hand mirror detailed in gold. While holding it, the bearer may focus on a creature's name that they have personally met. An image of what that creature looked like when the bearer first met them will appear on the mirror.

Father Gregor's Spoon: A spoon made from a dried gourd that is carved with the emblem of a baobab tree. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize the mark as the personal seal of wise monk and master gourd carver Father Gregor. Any liquid sipped from this spoon will tasted as if it was sweetened with honey.

A Dragon's Delicate Diet: A fist-sized kidney stone that was passed by a dragon of delicate disposition. When held over a meal, the stone will weep a thick fluid if the food contains ingredients that may cause the bearer digestive distress. This only recognizes ingredients that the bearer is allergic or intolerant to and does not detect most poisons or toxins.

Vest of Many Pockets: A canvas vest in a style typically worn by sport fishermen, that bears ten magical pockets. An item placed into a pocket will take up the expected amount of space in the pocket, but from the outside will appear flat as if empty. The pockets do not change or negate the weight of the objects placed within them. Each pocket can hold material equal to the size of a human fist.

A single feathered earring that when worn, allows the bearer to speak Auran, the language of air creatures, but only to say: "I don't actually speak Auran. I only know that sentence, and this one explaining it.” The bearer is not granted the ability to understand the language and doesn’t comprehend what they just said unless they are already fluent.

Fauna Harp. A magical rosewood handheld harp that when played by a skilled musician, compels neutral or friendly animals to follow the bearer as long as they keep playing. The harp otherwise does not alter the thought process of the animals, nor can it compel them to ignore basic survival instincts such as hunger, thirst or danger.

Rebel Pebble: A smooth gray river stone flecked with bloodstone. If the object has been on a creature's person (Held, carried, stowed in baggage or equipment, etc.) for longer than one minute it causes all of the bearer's speech to become defensive and antagonistic. The effect is extremely noticeable to the bearer as well as any who listen to him. The effect ceases as soon as the stone is removed from the bearer's person or it is placed in a lead lined container.

An old scroll in a weathered scrollcase containing a proclamation is nearly 300 years old. It lays out King Haroldus's case for calling to action the Fourth Hunting of the Dwarves. There was only one other known copy of this proclamation that has survived the years, and Knowledgeable PC's will know that it was stolen from the library it had been held in a few years ago. The roll of parchment is still intact and would fetch a good price from the right buyer.

Double-Ended Stirring Spoon: A large silver utensil that has two spoon ends on either side. One end is for stirring, the other for un-stirring. This can come in handy for those times when the bearer puts sugar in their tea but then changes their mind. Or for any number of more important, useful or practical situations.

A magical pearl the size of an eyeball that swirls with red and black veins and emits a small aura of soul-numbing depression.

A gem-encrusted, silver chalice filled with the remains of burnt blood and cinder ash. The object was obviously part of some unholy ritual sacrifice.

A bundle of heavy dire wolf pelts tied together with leather straps and wrapped in a protective oilskin case.

A wide mouthed silver cup with a short stem and a wide base to keep it stable. The stem is fashioned to look like a horned fiend bent over as if shouldering the bowl on its back. It has a tail that winds around its leg except for a sharp point that always seems to catch the skin of those who handle it. The bowl itself is fine, but otherwise ordinary in appearance, being silver with faint whorls engraved on its surface. Its true character is revealed when filled with blood. Doing so causes the chalice to lose its polished appearance and assume a dark and dull cast. Symbols of the God of Blood flare to life with red light on the outside of the cup, growing warm to the touch, while the blood bubbles, issuing the foul stink of death.

A quartz fountain pen that can never write a lie.

A leather wallet stamped with the symbol of a pair of manacles, that contains a full set of certified identification papers denoting that the bearer is a licensed bounty hunter, fugitive recovery agent, marshal, court bailiff or warrant officer (DM's discretion) of the local kingdom. The papers allow the bearer to legally pursue criminals across multiple jurisdictions, enter homes and buildings where their quarry is hiding and to kill wanted criminals if they believe their own life or that of an innocent civilian to be endangered. In return, the bounty hunter must present these papers to any legitimate legal authority who requests them and must turn over any caught criminals to said authority in return for monetary compensation or other similar rewards. The section containing the bounty hunter's physical description (Height, weight, sex, race, eye, skin and hair colour) is completely blank and could be filled in by anyone with skilled handwriting.

Burning Curiosity: A perfectly round, wooden orb patterned with a single eye. It is strangely warm to the touch, and the eye seems to peer into the bearer' soul with its unsettling gaze. When tossed into a fire, the orb will whisper a single secret into the ear of whoever tossed it into the fire. The creature seeking knowledge can ask for any secret that has been told to a Burning Curiosity before. However, they must give a secret of their own in exchange before the object imparts its knowledge. Once the exchange has been made, the orb teleports itself to the lair of the God of Secrets and cannot be used again, and the offered secret becomes known to all other Burning Curiosities. The importance of the secret told to the object directly relates to the importance to the importance of the secrete the bearer receives. What secrets the Burning Curiosity already knows are up to the GM's discretion.

A single onyx earring that when worn, allows the bearer to speak Terran, the language of earth creatures, but only to say: "I don't actually speak Terran. I only know that sentence, and this one explaining it.” The bearer is not granted the ability to understand the language and doesn’t comprehend what they just said unless they are already fluent.

A tiny jade model in the shape of a narrow sailboat. The model is small enough to snugly tit into a person's hand, and is as light as a feather. The rainbow of green hues that make up the hull of the small boat constantly changed as light and shadow dance upon it. The jade is well polished and with extraordinary color. The ramp of the boat is made from shining gold and the same bright metal also enhanced several parts of the ship's hull. The model's sails are fashioned from the lightest and finest silk of a translucent gray-green shade, these sails fluttered constantly, as if wind eternally fueled them.

A pair of beautiful, angel wings, each the length of a grown man's arm. Close inspection reveals that the stubs have been roughly hacked and seemingly cauterized. They still twitch as if they were just removed seconds ago.

A large gemstone, seemingly an amethyst that sits in a gilt frame of platinum and sparkles in the light. Carved in its setting are images of demonic women seducing mortal men. When held in the hand, worn about the neck, or pinned to the bearer’s garb, this gemstone pulses with a pinkish hue.

An elaborately scrimshawed dragon's claw the length of a grown man's arm.

Conqueror's Tapestry: A beautifully embroidered tapestry bears depictions of all the bearer's greatest victories. The morning after a battle, the bearer will wake to find his latest exploits delicately picked out in finest silk thread. The banner’s form automatically changes to allow itself to be displayed as best as possible, whether it’s flying as a flag or a banner or hung on a wall.

A heavy golden grail with a wide base, narrow stem, and flaring cup. When filled with holy water, the fluid resembles sunlight in liquid form. When a creature looks into the chalice’s fathomless depths, he will see silent images of his past and future mirrored there, playing out before him. Like the goblet’s contents, the future is fluid and the images shown are simply possibilities of what may come.

A set of a dozen skeleton keys that make unsettling noises when they jingle together.

A deep green block of jade that has been carved into the shape of a leatherback turtle. The foot-long carving is of good quality and would have value to the right collector.

A three-foot-long ivory scepter topped with a dark globe of polished marble the size of a fist, nestled on the backs of three golden eagles.

A small, silver, telescoping spyglass marked with ornate numerals. The body is lightly worn with occasional bumps and a light patina. The lenses seem clean and scratch free despite the apparent age.

An illustrious silver whistle that's covered with delicate etchings that form a beautiful swirling pattern. The surface within is covered with hundreds of tiny gemstones. Holding the whistle's slit at the right angle, the hollow center seems to be filled with colourful glitter.

Tina's Gloves: A well-crafted pair of six button, silk-lined white leather gloves, which always remain impeccably clean. When worn, they are skin tight and comfortable. Any missing digits are unnoticeable while wearing the gloves, as the fingers of the gloves will fill out and respond as if the fingers were still there (Even if all five are missing) but provide no tactile feedback to the bearer.

Handyman's Gloves: A pair of worn, brown leather work gloves whose material seems strangely firm. If the bearer speaks the command word while gripping an object, the gloves freeze in place. The bearer is then able to easily slide their hands out of the gloves leaving them in place applying the same amount of pressure and force as if the bearer was still wearing them. The gloves continue to hold their positions until a creature speaks a separate command word. There is a separate pair of command words for each glove and both are stitched into the cuffs.

Handy Handkerchief: A silk handkerchief of a bright Random Color, that remains magically clean no matter what filth is wiped upon it and can instantly stifle a sneeze without fail. It is still only as effective as a regular handkerchief in regard to cleaning ability.

Circlet of Solitude: A silver circlet that, when worn willingly, makes the bearer unable to detect any other living or intelligent creatures (At the bearer's discretion they can choose to detect plant life or not) in their surroundings, the bearer is rendered unable to see, hear, smell, touch, taste, or sense them telepathically in any way. The bearer can activate or suppress this ability instantaneously and at will as long as the circlet is worn. Knowledgeable PC's will know that the original enchantment was created by an order of monks who all wore a circlet in order to perfect their lives of solitude. Unfortunately the order of monks died out due to their inability to realize that new recruits wanted to join their order. Nowadays it is commonly used by those in large cities who wish for peace and quiet or by nervous public speakers who find it easier to address empty rooms than filled ones. ---Note: The circlet replaces the lost sensations with new ones based more on the bearer's personality than its own internal magic. While wearing the circlet in a crowded market for example, a bearer might see a completely still environment and not detect the nonliving clothes the shoppers are wearing or see their interactions with the good in the stalls, while another might see sets of clothes worn by invisible people and good floating around as the shoppers pick them up. The circlet shows the bearer as little as they want to and replaces background images with plausible hallucinations. For example if the bearer choose to wear the circlet in order to “see” through a crowded market he only see what he wanted to or what he already thought was there, such as more market stalls.

Protean Coin: A small belt pouch containing 1d3+3 completely normal looking gold coins. Extremely close inspection shows that all of the coins have the exact same minting date (Including the hour) etched into them and one of the coins has the letters “D.A.” etched next to the date. A creature holding the coin etched with “D.A.” can change the date of all of the coins to whatever date and hour he chooses. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize these coins as relics of a school of mages. They were originally used by a small group of student wizards who referred to themselves as the “Defense Association” and who practiced forbidden battle magics in secret from their professors. The leader of the D.A. possessed the master coin and used it to signal his “army” to assemble at a predetermined location at times indicated on the coins rather than trusting a fallible system of written messages or word of mouth. If caught this coin virtually unrecognizable from a mundane one and doesn't detect as magical making it a useful and discrete message system. Dozens of these coins were made and it is unknown where the others are. Changing the dates on the coins often may alert other owners that the master coin has been found again.

Boreal Bearings: A small thick pouch containing 1d4+1 silver ball bearings the size of large marbles that give off a constant aura of cold, equal to a piece of ice the same size. They are not harmful to flesh to cause injury, but quite uncomfortable to hold for long periods of time and a nightmare to experience if swallowed. They are commonly used to cool drinks, placed within pockets of clothing to function as a self-cooling method or stored inside pack containing interior of packs containing perishables.

Ring of the Eye: A polished brass ring bearing closed eyelid design. While worn, the bearer can choose to close both eyes in order to open the ring’s eyelid, revealing a small pearl decorated with the image of an iris and pupil. The bearer can see from the viewpoint of the ring for as long as they keep their own eyes closed, allowing the bearer to safely peer around corners by using one hand rather than their whole head.

A monocle with a magnifying glass lens rimmed with gold, set with a fine gold chain that attaches to an ear clip.

Lozenge Of The Songbird: A small Random Brightly Coloured tin case in a the shape of bird in flight. It contains five honey-coated candies made of soothing reagents. The mixture of alchemical ingredients and herbal extracts relax the user's throat and coats it in a protective layer layer, clearing away mucous and accentuating the natural vibrations of the voice box. If consumed, it takes one round to begin working, then grants a advantage on all performance checks relating to orating, singing, storytelling or other vocal display (DM's discretion) for 1d4 hours.

A well-made wooden puzzle box the size of two fists, covered with numerous tiny drawers. Only two of the drawers will open, but by manipulating those two drawers and sliding other cleverly hidden sections of wood, eventually the bearer may figure out how to open all the drawers. It may take some time but an Intelligent PC can uncover the box’s secrets and open one of the three main chambers with an hour of dedicated effort. After a creature learns how to open one side they can repeat the process in a manner of seconds or attempt to another section. The box contains three separate inner receptacles. The first holds a Random Ring, the second contains a Random Necklace and a Random Sealed Glass Vial is stored in the third. The bearer can store similar sized objects in the chambers if the original items are removed.

[bhandarimarblekishangarh]

Stones by Bhandari Marble World.

WHY CHOOSE NATURAL STONE FROM BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP

When it comes to choosing tile for your home renovation, you face an endless number of tile shapes, sizes, patterns, styles, and colors to choose from. Here is a short guide to tile shapes to help you select the right.

BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP is supplying white and Black marble and many more color marble granite and natural stones, manufacture slabs and tiles, and marble Handicraft. Marble Slabs are available in any thickness any size length and width as per requirement. We can customize MARBLE GRANITE AND Natural Stones. A real focus on customer satisfaction, you can rely on us for your next project on stone floor tiles. We provide a professional service for private and commercial customers for stone flooring. Which includes, Supply stone tiles, cladding & slabs Installation,Maintenance & refurbishment.

Our strong relationships with our international suppliers enable us to have our products shipped directly to any location worldwide

DESIGN AND PRODUCT SELECTION

Professional advice and guidance when it comes to selecting the most suitable products, finishes and solutions from our wide range of premium natural stone tiles, cladding and slabs, ensuring you find the perfect natural stone product to suit your needs.

INSTALLATION

Installation floor tiles and finishing by a professional and specialized team. Here are a few of the recent projects we have completed for our customers. We provide a professional service. Which includes consultation, design advice, the supply of materials and installation.

As varied as the landscapes from which it is quarried, natural stone presents a wealth of choices for any living or working environment. It’s enchanting variation in color and pattern, combined with its flexibility, make it the perfect choice for walls or floors, indoors and outdoors. Both timelessly elegant and impressively durable, natural stone allows you to create your own unique blend of color, texture, shape, and mood.

Stone flooring Natural Stone We have taken pride in offering only the finest natural stone products, sourced from locations across the globe. Our vast range includes floor tiles, specialized stone wall cladding, mosaics, and finishing products such as step edges, pool coping, and listed. Our selection of Marble tile, Travertine tile, Sandstone, Granite, Limestone, Quartzite, and Slate ensure that whatever your design style, you will find the perfect natural stone product to suit the bathroom stone flooring tiles your needs. What has taken nature millions of years to create can now be yours to enjoy for generations to come.

WE TALK WITH 387 YEARS EXPERIENCE We combine quality workmanship, superior knowledge, and competitive prices to provide you with service unmatched by our competitors.

OUR PROMISE TO YOU

Natural Stone Warehouse is built on values as enduring as our products: passion, quality, and integrity. We’ve earned a reputation as a leader in product innovation and international trends. Today our commitment to excellence ensures superior customer care and knowledgeable staff who are always available to assist you in finding the perfect match for your requirements.

TILES WHICH GIVE EXOTIC TOUCH TO YOUR FLOOR

Contemporary tiles are available in a variety of colors, styles, tile sizes, and shapes, which allows you to create a truly personalized space. Tile sizes are dependent on materials and intended uses, and they have increased dramatically over the centuries. Floor and wall tiles are versatile and give you limitless choices when it comes to sizes, shapes, colors, finishes, and styles. But the success of your next tiling project depends on only on choosing the right color and style –

Stone Tile we offer one of the largest selections of natural stone and different kinds of tile products for any decoration projects you may have in mind, be it residential or industrial. Our online title store can help you find the perfect tiles and natural stone products at the best prices in the World. While it is quite easy to find a tile shop, a tile store near you, an online shop like Stone Tile can usually offer you a much better deal. The addition of our free delivery on over many thousand products and free local pickup in over 500 stone tile warehouses worldwide makes our offer to buy tile online unbeatable.

Stone tile vast collections cover everything you may need from the natural stone for exterior or outdoor use like flagstone, pavers, pebbles, cobblestone to stone tiles for your decoration projects Including travertine, ledge stone, marble, granite, including absolute black, slate, shell stone, sandstone, limestone, quartzite, basalt, and even onyx. Tiles made of most popular materials like Marble and Granite can be used for any applications you may require like kitchen, backsplash, countertops, bathroom, shower, or any walls and floors in any style you like including subway tiles, mosaics, brick, fabric. The popular designer-look stone tiles

OUR COLLECTION SPEAKS ITSELF

We evolve over the years, but there are tile classics that stand the test of time. Among them, herringbone tile, arabesque tile, basketweave tile, hexagon tiles always remain contemporary. No matter what kind of project you start, we will help you choose the best options among all the tile sizes, and tile shapes. We have dedicated a special page to the topic of tile patterns, which is essential for geometric tiles.

Our collections cover every color you can imagine, but the most popular products are those in classic palettes like white, black, black and white, gray, gray and white, gold, brown, beige. However, more vibrant colors like red, purple, pink, green, and blue also find their place in the hearts of our customers. The variations of tile sizes are even more numerous than of colors and can easily overwhelm even those who are facing their second or third home remodeling project. This is why the most standard tile size like 12” x 12”, 12” x 24”, 16” x 16”, 18” x 18” and 24” x 24” are the most popular. The same is probably the reason of the popularity of the honed tile finish.

It is quite challenging to make the perfect choice among all the styles, finishes, sizes, and materials. That’s why we’re here to help you. Browse our collections to find the best natural stone and tiles available online at the best prices. Don’t forget to check out our discounted tile collection to enjoy the ideal quality of our products at the best possible price ever. Formed heat and pressure, natural stone tile boasts beauty and strength only nature could produce. With proper care and maintenance, it can last a lifetime. And since the slab is mined, it’s completely unique.

NATURAL STONE MOSAICS

With natural stone integrated with antique mirror and metal elements, the sophistication and unmatched level of luxury of this collection is a show stopper.

TILE & MOSAICS

Three large-format sizes, including a plank, and a linear brick joint gives this natural limestone and marble collection a mix-and-match, modular capability.

CENTER CITY NATURAL SLATE

Natural slate tile floors in a living room with lavender sofa, glass-top coffee table, and fire in a fireplace. The variation and color of the slate tile create a neutral backdrop with contrast and brightness. One of the strongest stones, it’s a stellar choice for almost any application.

SLATE STACKED STONE TILE

With an extensive color selection that is suitable for residential or commercial projects, Stacked Stone is ideal for walls, fireplaces, grills, island bases, and more. Feature wall with creamy beige marble in a baroque or lantern shape. Black and brown patterned chair visible on the side.

STONE DECORATIVE MOSAICS

With 500 colors and 100 unique shapes, the marble and limestone mosaics of Stone Decorative Accents can deliver a touch of unique finesse to any space. Modern style bathroom with dark wood cabinets and white marble covering the floor and walls. Large walk-in shower in the background.

MARBLE TILE & MOSAICS

Our Marble Collection is incredibly versatile, with select marble available in rectangular and plank sizes as well as vein-cut options, plus a host of beautiful coordinating accents. With its magnificent depth, exceptional color, and characteristic movement, our Granite Collection features exotic stone selections from around the world.

GRANITE COLLECTION TRAVERTINE TILE & MOSAICS Known for its use in Roman monuments, travertine’s classic stone look leaves a lasting impression. Our Travertine Collection includes plank sizes in various finishes and mosaics.

TRAVERTINE COLLECTION EXTRA-LARGE SLAB SURFACES

Bathroom with white marble vanity and white marble ingot mosaic backsplash.

MARBLE NATURAL STONE

Selected from the finest marble in the world, our line of marble slab provides an array of stunning colors. Chenille White limestone countertop in a bathroom. Succulents in vases on the countertop.

LIMESTONE NATURAL STONE

The beautiful neutral colors and soft, natural look of limestone adds subtle sophistication to any design. LIMESTONE

TRAVERTINE NATURAL STONE

Our line of travertine natural stone offers an alluring neutral color palette in a polished or honed finish.

TRAVERTINE

Rounded edge kitchen peninsula with cooktop and dramatic dark gray and white natural stone countertop.

GRANITE NATURAL STONE

Not just beautiful, granite’s distinctive granular appearance also makes it resistant to abrasion and chemicals. Close up of grey-veined green soapstone countertop with a silver bowl of green apples.

SOAPSTONE NATURAL STONE

Low-maintenance yet durable, soapstone has the beauty of a dark granite combined with the light veining of marble.

QUARTZITE NATURAL STONE

Our quartzite line features traditional, highly varied colors and natural cleft finishes as well as contemporary options.

NATURAL QUARTZITE

From many centuries, marble and other types of natural stone have symbolized wealth and power when used for flooring and other surfaces in residential dwellings. In the ancient civilizations of Persia, Greece, and Italy, the hand labor involved in quarrying, cutting, and transporting natural stone meant that it was only the wealthiest citizens or the government itself who could afford to use these materials in their buildings. Although modern equipment and transportation systems now make it more accessible to more people, marble and other natural stone is still a building material that retains a royal Stone.

THICKNESS

Many people ask about the thicknesses of the travertine tiles. It may be because they are trying to minimize the impact the new floor is going to have on doors and counters. Sometimes its because they want to make sure its to use on the walls. Other times it’s just because they want the thinnest possible for handling purposes. Here are some nuggets that might help as far as Stone norms are concerned.

SIZES AVAILABLE WITH US

• 12″x12″ and smaller are usually going to be 3/8″ thick. A tile that is 3/8″ thick is going to weigh about 5.5 lbs per square foot. • 16″x16″ and 18″x18″ are usually going to be 1/2″ thick. A tile that is 1/2″ thick is going to weight about 6 lbs per square foot. • 24″x24″ tiles are usually going to be 5/8″ thick. A tile that is 5/8″ thick is going to weight about 8 lbs per square foot. • Keep in mind that custom thicknesses for each size are possible and slabs can be done in 1.5 cm and 2 cm thicknesses.

CREATING THE PERFECT NURSERY FOR TWINS

Residential trends come and go. It was not that long ago when condominium developers in large metro areas came up with the idea of designing floor plans without functional kitchens. The idea was that the advent of smartphone apps and food delivery services would prompt city dwellers to forgo cooking altogether. However, things turned out differently as homeowners these days are making design statements with gourmet kitchens that boost the overall value of their properties.

When it comes to flooring material for the kitchen, natural-stone tiles are the obvious choice. Cork, wood, and vinyl flooring have certain advantages, but they do not come close to matching the attractive look and sheer durability of natural stone. Here are some of the best options for natural-stone floors in the kitchen.

GRANITE

Granite is the best popular choice of stone in the use of domestic and commercial purposes. Granite is stain resistant and durable stone, it’s wide and colors make the most beautiful stone for a lifetime. Granites are usually found in makrana mountain ranges. Bhandari Marbles is a top leading granite company in India to produce quality and strongest granites. Our best granite is famous for the combination of beauty.

Granite is a great option for homeowners who have previously chosen granite slabs for their kitchen counters. Ideally, the floor tiles should be selected at the same time as the slabs for the counters for matching purposes. The granite looks great, and it also lasts for a very long time as long as it is properly maintained. Luckily for homeowners, cleaning and resealing granite can be accomplished by using a stone-safe granite cleaner and sealer. The granite looks best in gourmet kitchens.

LIMESTONE SLABS & TILES – Black Kota Lime Stone Exporter

Exporter of LIMESTONE SLABS & TILES – Black Kota LimeStone, Machine Cut Black Limestone, Black Kadappa. This material is ideal for kitchens with a rustic or traditional style. Limestone that has been extracted from quarries in the Middle East and Northern Africa tends to have a very attractive and unique look. As limestone is very porous, it is important to choose tiles with higher density, and the protective seal must be reapplied often.

MARBLE

Marble may seem like an unusual choice for the kitchen, but it should be noted that it is the metamorphic result of limestone being exposed to higher igneous temperatures, which causes a process of crystallization. Marble is very durable and will look great in any kitchen. However, it requires a professional finish to make the surface less slippery.

SLATE

Homeowners who favor a rustic or industrial look for their kitchen should consider slate flooring, particularly darker tones that are not prone to staining. The typical finish of slate makes it look natural with only a slight polish that highlights the nonslip texture. Slate tends to look very sharp when paired with kitchen cabinets that feature a light and natural wood finish.

TRAVERTINE

Many regions of India choose travertine for their kitchen and dining room floors for three reasons: it looks great, lasts long, and can be easily maintained as long as it has been adequately honed, filled, and sealed. When chosen for the kitchen floor, travertine should be finished with a natural look instead of a glossy appearance. Travertine is ideal for open floor plans decorated with natural stone. A stone slab is a big stone, flat and of little thickness, that are generally used for paving floors, for covering walls or as headstones.

DESCRIPTION

The company has made its mark in the domestic and international markets as a Manufacturer, Supplier, and Exporter of Stone Tiles. The company offers a high-quality range of the Stone Tiles, which is smoothly finished and precisely manufactured. The Stone Tiles can be availed at the market leading prices and the deliveries are timely and safe.

Browse the selection of natural stone slabs. We have over 500 different stones and over many lakh square feet of slabs available in our warehouses throughout the country. Contact our Representative today with any questions. Bhandari marble group Quick Ship Program is designed to support projects with tight schedules. Twenty of our most popular items are included in the program. With the Stone Source Quick Ship Program, you can obtain large quantities of material, available for immediate shipment.

Natural stone is one of the most luxurious materials available for architecture and interior design. Our most popular varieties are marble, limestone, quartzite, travertine, and basalt. We also offer a carefully-curated selection of granite, onyx, slate, and more. We stock our most popular items in deep inventory, in addition to hundreds of others available in limited stock or via special order.

TRAVERTINE

Famous for centuries, it has huge architectural significance as it was the stone used to build the Travertino is being used as tiles of varied sizes to do multiple tile patterns. It is a great stone for doing walls, floors, bathrooms, and kitchen.

ONYX

Being a rare stone makes it precious and also adds to the charm of using Onyx for walls, floorings, counters, vanity settings, and even as art. The most amazing feature of Onyx is its translucency that makes it ideal for backlit walls in the dining space, bathrooms, and bedrooms.

QUARTZITE

A popular surface choice in new-age constructions, it is known for its durability and overall pleasing beauty. A hard igneous rock, it chiefly comprises of mica, quartz, feldspar, and a wide variety of minerals which give it different patterns and a wide variety of colors.

Everything You Want to Know About Marble slabs & Tile Flooring

Marble is one of the most timeless and elegant flooring options available at the Bhandari marble group since 1631.. It has been a popular choice for designers, architects, and artists throughout much of human history from Tajmahal to Pisa tower. Natural marble is quarried from mountain ranges in various locations around the world like India and Italy, and this diversity is reflected in the wide range of 500 types, 360-degree finishes, export sizes, and all colors available in marble flooring slabs and tile. Bhandari marble group’s While marble is a highly durable flooring surface. Surface Finishes on Marble by BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP marble floor depends on the type of finish the stone has. Honed, tumbled, or brushed marble tiles all have greater traction due to the dimensional elements in the surface of the stone. These and other marble tiles with a higher coefficient of friction are more appropriate for wet and high-traffic areas.

Cost of Marble Floor slabs and Tiles

The cost of Italian marble tile can range from as little as $3 per square foot or 210 RS to more than $20 per square foot or 1400 Rs per sq feet but Indian marble cheaper from Italian marble 20 RS per sq feet to 200 Rs per sq feet, making it one of the more expensive natural stone flooring options. In general, the larger the slab and tile, the higher the cost per square foot. BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP tile stores may offer marble slabs and tiles at extremely low prices.

BHANDARI MARBLE GROUP, INDIA, RAJASTHAN, KISHANGARH PIN CODE 305801

[ticklish-leafy-plant]

Bad Daddy part 2

Part 2 reposting. Not my gif, belongs to @bbylangdon

Warnings: Foul language, sexual situations

You sighed staring at the empty space next to you. Michael had never come to bed last night. Biting your lower lip in frustration, you couldn’t believe that he actually had the nerve to leave for the outpost last night and not even try to say goodbye. That never happened. No matter what, you two always said goodbye with multiple hugs, and yearnful kisses until he returned. But not this time. Had you really fucked up so badly, angered him enough to the point where he would choose to avoid seeing you and leave?

Heaving a great sigh, you rolled over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling. You would have to get up eventually, and see to the baby. She would brighten your spirits. At this point, you could only hope that he at least said goodbye to Y/D/N before making his journey into that hellscape.

Maneuvering yourself out of the bed, you began to march to your daughter’s bedroom. Making your way to the door, you halted suddenly as your hand reached for the doorknob. It was utterly silent. That was unusual. Usually Y/D/N would hear your footsteps in the hallway and begin screaming in delight to be let out of her room, and start her day. Maybe she was more exhausted then you thought, and had decided to sleep in that morning. Better to just check in and make sure.

Quietly, you cracked the door open peering your head through. Eyes widening, you immediately slammed the door into the wall and ran over to the crib, eyes immediately tearing up. Y/D/N was not in her bed. You could feel yourself start to hyperventilate, as your head began turning left and right, questioning if maybe she had escaped and was hiding in some corner of the room. Falling to your knees, you looked beneath the crib, opened her closet but she was nowhere to be found.

Immediately, you began to rush down the hallway, an awful thought taking over in your head. What if Michael had taken her while she was asleep? No matter how awful the argument could be, he would never willingly do something so cruel. He was so protective of Y/D/N, he would never let her out of the sanctuary. He rarely let her even be outside of their home, just to keep her hidden from the curious gazes of the members within the cooperative. Michael kept his little family safe, and extremely close to the hip.

As you continued to rush down the hallway, peering into different rooms, you heard movement taking place into the kitchen. Fuck! They had appliances, extra pointy knives and god knows what else she would be able to get into. You skidded to a stop at the kitchen entrance, ready to witness some horror but to your surprise it was something entirely unexpected. Michael was in the kitchen preparing breakfast with Y/D/N. He had sat her on the countertop in front of him, Y/D/N babbling baby words to him as he was mixing the sweet egg batter for French toast. Y/D/N handed him the cinnamon he had left in front of her, Michael carefully measuring out the amount of cinnamon he wanted. “Thank you little love”, Michael grinned towards Y/D/N.

“Good Morning, Mommy”, he greeted not looking up, too focused on his work and concerned of overdoing it with the spices.

You said nothing, chest rising and falling rapidly realizing that Y/D/N hadn’t gone missing. That Michael in his anger towards you, hadn’t taken her to fuck with you. You were ashamed of yourself. Michael might be the Anti-Christ, the antithesis of evil but he was still your love; your rock, and you knew he treasured the both of you above anything else.

You finally cleared your throat, the terrible black fog clouding your mind forgotten as you finally became aware of your surroundings and the situation at hand. Daddy was home. Daddy was surprisingly awake before you. He hadn’t left, and he was making breakfast with Y/D/N. Not only that, but he apparently had foregone wearing a shirt while cooking. You couldn’t help but bite the corner of your lip admiring the view in front of you. You knew Michael was always meant to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible. His beauty, so dangerous and alluring, beckoning you and welcoming you closer, even when you could see the fangs baring themselves. Beautiful strong arms, lean and toned. Skin so perfectly smooth. Broad shoulders filled with a quiet strength, and a warm chest, so perfectly created to cradle your face closely.

Michael said nothing else, adding the cinnamon and handing it back to Y/D/N chubby hands. “You are doing marvelously little chef! That was the most important ingredient we needed to make this delicious!”. Y/D/N glowed under her father’s praise, her small hands clapping together enthusiastically. Michael circled his way around the island in the center of the kitchen, making his way towards the fridge.

You felt your breath stop. Oh no…..

Michael opened the fridge, back towards you. Not only was he going shirtless for breakfast, but on top of that he had decided that he felt like wearing his extremely tight, very flattering leather pants. You sucked on your teeth. He knew how much you loved those pants on him. You often pawed at him, like a bitch in heat when he would wear them. They were the closes thing to lingerie for you. He wore them, and you were ready to do him dirty.

Like a lightbulb going off in your head, you smirked as crossed your arms across your chest and leaned against the island. You knew exactly what he was doing. Daddy didn’t get to play, so he was going to make Mommy want to play with him.

“I know what you’re doing Daddy”, you commented knowingly, as Michael pulled out a jug of orange juice and placing it next to Y/D/N.

“Would Mommy like orange juice, or coffee?” Michael asked, ignoring your comment and finally looking up at you. You stared back at Michael silently, eyes making contact but no other words being spoken.  You could see the playfulness in his ocean blue eyes, almost daring you to do something about it.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about Mommy…”, as you and Michael continued to hold eye contact, the look in his eyes daring you to contradict him. You licked your dry lips, subtly clenching your thighs, already feeling an ache. Michael continued to leer at you, a soft smug smile gracing his lips. Fine, he wanted to play that way. So be it. You would play.

You cleared your throat, giving a small exhale not willing yourself to look away from him. “Where did you sleep last night?”, watching as Michael turned away and returned to the bowl of egg mix, Y/D/N playing with a lone spoon, as Michael began to calmly whisk the ingredients. Michael looked up giving you a thoughtful look. “The living room. Can’t remember the last time I slept on a couch, Mommy”, he murmured softly.

Ouch. You pensively chose to look down at the granite counter, your hands clenching harder and nails digging into your palms. There wasn’t a time that you and Michael had ever slept separately from each other, unless he was away on a trip. Guilt trip was not going to help him win this one.

“I mean…I mean you could have come to bed. You didn’t have to sleep on the couch last night”, you whispered.

“Could I have?”, he whispered harshly, slamming the whisk on the counter startling Y/D/N for a second before she went back to taping the metal spoon against the granite, entertaining herself.

You felt yourself flinch, already exasperated by the tense atmosphere taking place in the kitchen. You looked up, staring him in the eye before blatantly rolling your eyes at his bratty behavior.

“You have no one to blame but yourself Daddy”, giving Michael a tight smirk. Michael’s jaw clenched, eyes narrowing, his breathing deepening. You knew you were playing with fire at that moment. You were well and truly fucked now. Were they really going to argue before they ate?

Instead of shouting, Michael began to gently shake his head and chuckle. “You are truly maddening sweetheart…”, as he stepped around the counter, walking past you and towards the phone on the counter. You turned your head, unable to stop yourself from watching him walk away. The way those black leather pants clung to his ass like a second skin was sinful to say the least. You could admit to yourself, quite easily actually that Michael had an amazing ass. At times when you would watch him change, or shower, you wondered what it would be like to have an ass like his. One night, when you both were dating back before the world was led to ruin, you were staying the night at Mead’s home having some alone time with Michael. You had mentioned to him how he had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of.

Michael had blushed so hard, and was so flattered but alarmed as to what to do with that information. You had somehow managed to convince him to let you try to bounce a quarter off of it. Needless to say, it was a few hours of indescribable silliness for the both of, and one of the fondest memories you had helping you fall even more in love with him.

You were broken out of memory lane, realizing Michael had just gotten off the phone with someone. Before you were even able to ask who he had called, Ms. Mead walked through the kitchen entrance, ignoring you and Michael and walking straight towards Y/D/N.

Y/D/N extended her arms in delight at seeing Mead, the words Nana breaking through her little lips, as Miriam simply lifted her into her arms and cuddled her closely. “I’ll see you two later. Enjoy your morning”, turning back and exiting the kitchen entrance as quickly as she entered.

You stood there, lips parted in disbelief as you turned to look at Michael to understand what was going on. Before any words could move past your lips, Michael crossed the kitchen in a few strides halting right in front of you, trapping you against the counter. His whole body was tightly wound, his chest puffed out making you feel smaller, trapped and aroused.

“Bedroom. Now”.

[scoobydoominuscoobydoo]

You’re making my typical me break my typical rules...

FF.Net & AO3 

   Surprisingly, Daphne can still look Shaggy in the eyes after it happens - after the gravity of their actions sets in and they realize just how not okay it is. And Daph suddenly understands that in any context, what she did wasn’t a good idea at all; no matter how distraught she was in that moment. To think the glow of hallucinogenic fire would have such dormant feelings burst out the front of her mind and turn the pit in her stomach to a full-blown vortex.

    Rational or not, Daphne’s feelings for Fred are still there, and those feelings have been shown to do dangerous things to her. Things that force her heart-rate to double in speed and push her through the Gothic halls of a forgotten library.

   When she is brought back to reality by the eerie crackle of the fire just inches away from her, Daphne is stunned to see the man whom she was supposed to be embracing staring down at her in shock. And when she goes to inspect the person that has their arms wrapped around her, she is met with equally shocked brown eyes.

    Several days are dedicated to damage control from both parties - Shaggy attempting to calm the fires of his overly-protective canine as well as the almost constant teasing Velma sends his way. Daph spends all of her free time trying to calm the black hole in her gut that keeps reminding her that she loves Fred Jones, because it’s starting to hurt. When she’s not doing that, Daphne is usually trying to sustain Freddie’s ego, continually assuring him that both her and Shag weren’t right in the head when it happened. It was taking a while but he was slowly beginning to believe her.

   Everything was actually returning to a state of normalcy, at least the sort of things that are considered normal in the life of Daphne Blake. Any mention of the incident seemed to become a taboo subject among the gang and Velma had at the very least become bored of the discomfort Shag showed when she brought it up.

    Daphne had persuaded Fred to hide out in her house and away from family drama and was certainly relieved to have back on a regular showering schedule; now that the hole in her stomach pushed her to be as close to him as possible. 

    It had just been a simple afternoon - much simpler than most - the gang was relaxing by the pool at Daph’s house and keeping their minds occupied. There was no particular issue or drama circling the air that day, which was the only way they could remain so relaxed, Velma was resting under an umbrella and flipping through the various clues she had found at the library, Shaggy and Scooby had taken it upon themselves to provide a hearty feast, and Fred and Daphne were perched at the pool’s edge. Their hips were connected and all Daph could bring herself to do was count the small dots of bright pink granite that decorated the bottom of the pool.

   Indeed it was a quiet day, and these were the days the gang cherished most, where everything could go by slow and steady. And yet, Daphne was in an indescribable amount of pain, all of it coming from that damned vortex; her hands were clasped tightly in her lap because if she set them free then they could begin to tremble as if the whole world was vibrating.

    She wanted to blame it on hunger, that the amazing scents drifting her way from the outdoor kitchen were just reminding her that she had skipped dinner last night and breakfast that morning. But this couldn’t be chocked up to hunger pain, because this felt like a beam of fire and light was forcing itself through her guts and through her veins. It was bordering on unbearable but she didn’t dare give it away to Fred; out of fear that he’d disconnect from her. So long as she sat still and kept counting the dots, Daphne convinced herself the pain would pass.

    And that was when his voice sounded out, “Alright ladies and gentleman, like, come and get your grub!”

   She began to breathe in and out through her nose as she shot to her feet, disconnecting herself from Fred, and running passed her friends. Ignoring them shouting out to her, Daphne sped up the stairs and practically kicked open the doors that let her back into the house.

    Her vision had begun to blur around the edges as tunnel vision kicked in and her brain urged to keep searching for the thing she needed; placing both her hands over her mouth in hopes of keeping everything sealed in. Even though this was her own home and she had lived here since birth, she found herself rounding corner after corner with no success in achieving her goal. She almost gave in to the desire to fall down on her knees in defeat, but then for a split second the buzzing in her brain stopped and a clear silence replaced it. Daphne looked to her right and sure enough, behind an open door was a hot pink toilet with her name on it. Figuratively of course.

    Not even bothering to turn on the lights, Daph rushed in and grabbed either side of the toilet seat, and without a second to spare because all of that fire in her stomach had risen to the surface and was breaking loose. 

   The adrenaline of the moment was most likely preventing her from actually feeling the burning as it traveled up her throat and pushed over her tongue. She did feel the pain in her lungs from the forced coughing that came from upchucking anxiety, and that was far from pleasant to say the least.

   For a few minutes, Daph had made the decision to ignore the fact that her hair was draping over her ears and into the toilet bowl; it wasn’t like she could see much in the dark room with eyes clouded by tears. 

   That is, until the lights clicked on and she was forced to make out the carnage before her, hardly a pretty site to see your hair dipping in vomit; the same hair that was framing either side of her vision. But then she felt a slight tickle on her left ear and then noticed the hair being rescued from drowning in gastric acid. She would take the time to thank her rescuer but her body had yet to let her take a break from spewing fire.

    There was a gentle hand rubbing her back as she continued to cough up more fire and then take a second to breathe before the hacking returned. That cycle must’ve carried on for about seven or eight minutes before Daphne gasped out for air and found that once she had evened out her breathing, the fire didn’t force anything up.

   Her hero seemed to sense this as well because they’re voice sounded and Daph finally realized who it was, “Jesus Daph...like, you got a hair tie?”

    Daphne nodded solemnly and pulled one from her wrist, holding it out behind her and not tearing her eyes away from the toilet. The disaster looked less awful now that she wasn’t coughing and filling her eyes with salty tears. It was mostly clear, which she figured made sense since she hadn’t eaten anything in at least twelve hours.

    After her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail, Shaggy returned to rubbing her back. He didn’t ask any questions or try to break the ice, and Daph was thankful for that; she knew what she wanted to say to him, but it was taking quite a bit of effort to string together how she was gonna say it. After a long state of silence, Daphne finally let out a deep breath - she was ready to pour her heart out, “I remember everything from that night...”

   She heard him take in a deep breath as well, “Like, so do I...’ 

   The calmness in his voice was all the prompting Daph needed, “All I can think about it how if we had never stepped foot into that library... then- ..... then Fred would have been my first. Or better yet, I wouldn’t even be in love with him again.” She said that with a soft chuckle, although it was too callous to ease the tension in the room, “I-I don’t even know what to feel... my stomach hurts every time I think about us both being forced into that. And my stomach has been hurting all the time so I guess tells you where my head’s at.”

   Shag brought his hands up to her shoulders and Daph wondered if she had a sunburn there because the skin was incredibly warm. “I wish I could say that’s just an occupational hazard that, like, comes with the territory of messing with freaky stuff.... But this was never in the job description...”

   “No,” She feels her voice begin to quiver, “It wasn’t.” She turns around to face him and find that his hands are slightly quivering, “Shag, I don’t want what happened to change anything, we’re best friends and I don’t know what I’d do without you....” He smiles, but it’s a sad one; because he can see her biting her lip as she continues, “But, “ The words are too hard to say and I have to push them passed my teeth. Like verbal vomit.

   “Every time I look at you I- ... I just..... Remember kissing you a-and touching you. Feeling you.” her cheeks feel hot as the events flash through her mind for the millionth time and all of the looks he gave her that night with brown eyes replace any of the blue eyes that the firewood forced her to see.

   Shag looks down at his shaking hands and nods, “Me too...” He says, just above a whisper, and Daph doesn’t miss the crack in his voice. That small break is enough to tug a new emotion to the front of Daph’s thoughts. Anger. She lets out a frustrated groan before saying, “This isn’t fair! If anything was ever gonna happen between us.... this- ....This isn’t how I would’ve wanted it to go!” She noticed him flinch at that “If,” like the very idea of them being something outside of friends, far away from her very loud feelings for Fred, just completely terrified him.

   And as she lingered on it, she found it terrified her too.

   So she did something, something incredibly foolish, she wiped any trace of vomit from her mouth and chin on the back of her hand - she’d wash her hands later. And then, with no further warning, she grabbed onto the collar of his t-shirt and brought his chapped lips to rest on her’s.

   Her aim had been a bit off as she found herself kissing only his bottom lip rather than the full kiss she had wanted. And his nose was poking into her cheek leaving the whole experience to be far from glamorous. But God, her whole body was on fire, and it wasn’t the fire that had been burning through her throat just a few minutes ago. It wasn’t even the fire she felt when she had kissed Fred for the first time. No, this fire was brand new; coating her whole body in not just comforting warmth. This was a raging heat that was tearing through her, it was screaming out so many things to her and she had no clue how to process any of it. All of those things were shouting out and pulling on her leaving her with a singular thought. “More.”

   The was enough to send a yelp through her and she pulled away, but the fire was still there, just pulling on her.

   Those brown eyes looked down at her with what Daph wanted to say was awe. But with further inspection, she knew that it wasn’t awe she recognized - it was terror. And now Daphne knew she had made a mistake, one she could never go back on, one she couldn’t fix with a simple apology. She almost wanted to say something, anything, but was struck with fear as his brows furrowed and she realized, ‘Oh. He’s scowling at me. He’s angry with me.’

   All her words were gone as he stood up and left the room without saying a word. Daphne stayed there for a few minutes, trying her best to sob silently because no matter how much cold water she splashed on her face she found that the fire was still there and seemed to get stronger the more she thought about the kiss.

   “Daph?” All at once, the fire was gone, but in it’s stead - that vortex made it’s big comeback in her gut. Sniffling, Daphne could only convince one thought to stay in her mind, ‘This pain is better.’

    And with that, Daphne wiped her puffy, red eyes and walked into the willing embrace of Fred, who instantly showered her with a million questions. She didn’t answer a single one.